#i used to work as a hostess and actually i'm working at that job AGAIN 😭 for some ez money

[causenessus]

I RAN OUT OF TAG SPACE BC I YELLED TOO MUCH THIS IS SO GOOD EVERYONE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ IT IT'S AMAZING

the ravens eye diner- hajime iwazumi

masterlist

table for four

hajime was 2 days into his master plan of never seeing you again. it was going…rough. his mind had already adjusted to his new routine of running to the little diner and getting a cup of coffee. but he would be fine, he barely knew you. only knowing things like your name, and snippets of your personality he learned from stories you told as you refilled his coffee cup, or jokes you’d tell about the other customers.

but he wanted to know everything about you. your go-to coffee order, how many freckles you have, what your favorite color is, even your last name would be nice. he shakes these thoughts from his head.

he has no right to even wonder, because he was just a customer who happened to sit in your section. you probably haven’t even thought of him since he left. but why can’t he stop thinking about you?

“why have your runs been taking so long lately?”

hajimes head snaps up to see his roommate, toru oikawa. fuck he’s been caught.

“what are you talking about?” he asks, trying to cover.

“well, usually you’re back by 7:15 at the latest, and i use your door slamming as an alarm. but lately you haven’t been getting back until like 7:40.” toru rattles off, leaning against the doorframe.

“just been taking a longer route.” hajime dismisses him. ”doesn’t sound like you iwa…” toru sounds extremely suspicious.

hajime rolls his eyes.

“is that all you wanted from me?” he asks, turning back to his paper.

“no, i was wondering if you wanted to get lunch with mattsun, makki, and i.”

hajime thinks for a moment. he is hungry. but does he really want to sit through his friends nagging? he decides it’ll be worth it.

“fine.” he stands up, stretching his legs. makki and mattsun already sit in the shared living room.

“where should we go?” mattsun asks, scrolling through restaurants on his phone. makki sits next to him doing the same thing.

“theres a diner just a few blocks away, it looks pretty good.” makki muses.

“oh i would kill for a stack of pancakes right now.” toru groans.

hajime freezes. he hopes there is a different diner a few blocks away that he just never noticed.

“sounds good, what’s it called?” mattsun asks.

“um…” makki scrolls to the name. “the ravens eye diner.” well shit.

“oh, i’ve heard of them, their food is apparently really good.” mattsun says.

“okay, let’s go!” toru cheers.

hajime wants to die. at this point he knows there is no way that he can convince them all of a different restaurant, especially with torus heart dead set on pancakes. it’s okay, theres like a 25% chance that you are working, maybe less.

so, the party of 4 treks out into the great outdoors, and take the brief walk to the ravens eye diner. he’s greeted by the oh so familiar sound of the whir from the coffee machine, and the familiar face of the blonde hostess. hajime hides himself behind the other three men. sure he’s acting a bit childish, but he feels a bit embarrassed.

“hello! how many today?” she asks.

“table for four please!” toru says, smiling at the girl. she picks up the familiar menus, and as she looks up, hajime makes accidental eye contact with her. her eyes widen. that can’t be a good sign, he thinks.

she leads the group to the same table hajime sat at 4 days in a row last week. the table in the corner by the window. he takes the seat closest to the window, and everyone files in around him. the quartet goes quiet for a bit as they scan over the drink menu. hajime already knows what he’s getting, and he knows whats coming. the server.

much to his dismay, he is greeted by a smiling face. your smiling face.

“oh hi hajime! been a while!” you greet. he feels the confused stares of his friends on him.

“hi y/n, uh just a-”

“black coffee?”

“yeah, thanks.” he looks down at the table, ignoring their gazes.

“and for the rest of you?”

hajime doesn’t listen as the other three rattle off their drink orders. he’s too focused on the fact his head might explode because of how red he is.

he listens to the click of your shoes as you leave the table, and he knows he’s about to get attacked.

“how come you never mentioned you’ve been here before???” toru jumps in immediately.

“or that you knew the cute waitress!” mattsun adds, tagging on.

hajime just sits with his blushing face in his hands while his friends bombard him with questions. thankfully, they can’t pester him for long before you are back with a tray propped up on your arm, handing off their drinks. you set down hajimes hot coffee carefully in front of him, just like you’ve done the last 3 times.

“i’ll give you a few more minutes with the menu.” you say, waltzing off with your tray.

hajime wishes you would stay at the table forever. so he’d be protected from his friends nagging. what other reason would there be?

“ooo our little hajime has a crush! this must be why your runs take so long! i knew you were suspicious!” toru has won. this may end up being the worst meal of his life. toru has starting poking him in the sides, and hajime defends himself by slapping the back of his head.

“i do not have a crush! i just… come here for coffee some mornings.”

“oh so it’s just random when you come?” makki asks, skeptical tone evident on his voice.

“yes!”

“lie. nothing you do is random. you totally have a crush.” mattsun catches him. he hates how they are 100% correct.

“keep your voice down. please.” hajime pleads.

“he’s not denying it. wow, in our many years of friendship i have never seen you this flustered!” toru jokes.

hajime quickly finds his head in his hands again.

the next few minutes are filled with relentless teasing for hajime, and you freaking out in the back.

“your lover boy is back!” alisa cheers after hearing the news from hitoka.

“he is not my lover boy!” you defend yourself, grabbing your notepad and rushing right back out of the kitchen to take their orders.

funny how on opposite sides of the restaurant the same conversation is happening.

you arrive back at the corner table to see an extremely red faced hajime. maybe you want him to be your lover boy.

“alright, ready to order?” you ask, as the group turns to you.

“i’ll do toast and sunny side up eggs.” from the guy across hajime.

“waffle please!” from the one next to him. you turn to hajime next.

”um…i’ll just stick with the coffee for now.” he sounds unconfident in his answer. ”you sure?” you ask, looking up from your notepad. he nods, face still red as ever.

“hm, and for you?” you ask, turning to the final guy, you recognize him as one of the university volleyball players, but you can’t quite recall his name.

“i’ll do the stack of pancakes please,” he starts. “and also….your phone number for my dear friend hajime here!” he finishes his sentence with the most gleeful voice, it actually makes you laugh a bit.

“alright then.” you say, before turning on your heel and leaving. as you walk away you can hear hajime scolding him.

after you drop off their food and refill hajimes coffee, they request 4 separate checks, so you head to split the check in the back.

but, at the bottom of a certain check, you scribble down a quick note.

𖦹₊⊹fun facts⊹₊𖦹

-you started looking forward to your shifts when iwazumi was showing up but then he stopped so you went right back to being late

-hitoka was very scared by the group of 4 giant men

-alisa is a gossip machine, she knows everything about everyone in this restaurant

-toru loves to wingman

a/n: HE GOT THE NUMBER oikawa best wingman ever even if he wasn't asked to be.

taglist:

@wyrcan @nbcvs @froyaoya @mylahrins @wizardhore

@chloiyoomi @causenessus @bubooo @lvtilzs @nishayuro

@diorzs @19calicos

[write-ur-wrongs]

Stayaway

In an attempt to get out of funk, here is a very short, not edited, written-directly-into-tumblr, song-inspired grealt x reader fic. Inspired by Stayaway by MUNA (the best band in the world, begging y'all to listen to their music you will be forever changed!!).

*********

"Come on! I know you're home, I followed you!"

The bard was yelling and banging on your door incessantly and you knew you had to answer eventually. The bastard followed you home after all, he knows where you live.

"I'm not home!" you shouted back, delusional.

"Y/N! I may be a fool but I'm not stupid," he replied, and you could hear the familiar smile pulling at his lips, "Now open up! The door and your heart!"

"Jask," you sighed, laughing despite yourself at his poetic antics, "go away!"

"No! I miss you!"

"I'm not home!" you tried again, will wavering.

"Y/N!" he pleaded, and you swore you could hear half that cursed smile pull down into a pout.

You rested your forehead against the door and bit your lip, debating. All the while, your hand betrayed you, reached for the doorknob and turned it open.

Before you knew it, you were face to face with an old friend and while the sight of him filled you with joy, you were also flooded with other, less welcome feelings of remembrance.

"Y/N!" he exclaimed, pushing himself into your home and saving you from dwelling on the heavy memories that tried to creep up over you. "You're home, what are the odds?"

"Hilarious as always, Jaskier," you said, closing the door behind him. "What brings you to my little hamlet?"

"Fate, chance, what have you," he said, his cheery demeanor working overtime to cover for his abject curiosity, "The sea called and I had to answer. You know how it is."

"I do, do I?"

"Don't you? I mean you just disappeared... I assumed something called and you, you know, answered?" His tone stayed light, the practiced levity of someone who's spent years buttering people up for information all while staying neutral.

"I guess..." you bit your cheek, busying yourself by playing hostess, and pouring you both a glass of wine, "things changed and I thought, 'hell, why not change too?'"

"Fair enough... oh thank you."

"Of course," you said, taking a sip of wine yourself before guiding you both towards your couch, "but seriously Jaskier, why are you here?"

"Seriously? I was just passing through on my way to Oxenfurt when I saw a familiar face. A face I thought I'd never see again..."

You looked up from your glass then, but immediately regretted it when you met the bard's earnest gaze.

"Yennefer thought she saw you in Novigrad a while back but then... nothing. We thought you were gone for good."

"Jaskier, come on," you pleaded, praying he wouldn't elaborate on who 'we' entailed, while another, less disciplined part of you hoped for the opposite. Maybe if you knew he missed you, maybe if you knew he was looking for you... maybe you could let yourself be found.

No!

"Don't shake your head at me, Y/N. You disappear from the city, you quit your job, no one has seen you at the pub, the library - anywhere!"

"I- I know... but Jask," you stammered, trying to start three sentences at once and fumbling them all.

"I mean, you loved your job, didn't you? And what about us?" he asked, voice cracking slightly. "Gods, was the breakup that bad?"

"The thing is, Jask," you sputtered between large sips of wine, "It wasn't. It was easy, actually. He did what he always does when we fight; scowl, shut down, turn away, and then take it out on our friends. The break was clean."

"If it was so clean, then why did you leave?"

"It's the rest of it! The, the staying away that was, is impossible. If I had stayed and kept going it out with you guys, we'd drink and dance and I'd wonder where he is. Or one moment I'd be at the library studying and the next, Yen be asking me about the breakup and trying to 'cheer' me up by bringing up the good times and next thing you know? I'm answering the door for him when he rolls back into town injured and brooding. I couldn't stand it! I- I couldn't risk it."

"That's -"

"Pathetic? I know."

"No! No, but if there were so many good times, so many reasons to go back then why not-"

"Damn it, Jaskier! This is why I had to leave." You said, gesturing between the two of you before dropping your hand on your lap with a smack. "If I let him back in, then he's not the man who broke my heart anymore. Not the one who told me I was overemotional for being worried when he'd disappear for months. Suddenly everything is fine... until it's not and I'm hurt and alone again."

You felt tears begin to prick the back of your eyes and shoved the heel of your palms into them to force them down.

"Hey... Y/N," Jaskier said, gently pulling your hands away from your eyes and taking them in his. "I'm sorry, I didn't know..."

"It's okay," you said, giving your friends hands a squeeze and looking up to the ceiling, letting your tears fall for a moment, "I'm okay."

"Y/N..."

"Oh alright, but I'll be okay," you amended, laughing at yourself lightly and wiping the tears away. "Jaskier, don't look so sad. I just need time, space, distance... I will be fine."

Your words had little effect on your friend though, who seemed to grow more anxious and sad with every passing moment. You quirked your brow at him and shoved his shoulder playfully, trying to break the mood.

"Jaskier, will you relax?" you asked, desperate to get him to smile now. You really had missed Jaskier and now that he was here, you realized how much you wanted him to stick around.

"Y/N, I'm really sorry." He whispered, refusing to meet your gaze.

You were about to try another lighthearted quip when you heard a knock at your door. Not someone knocking, just a knock. One quick but deliberate rap.

"Who...?" you heard yourself asking, even though you only ever knew one person who knocked on doors like that.

"Y/N, I'm so so sorry," Jaskier kept repeating. "I really didn't know. I never would have told him if I'd known."

Your mouth was bone dry but you couldn't get your hand to reach for your glass of wine. You just kept staring at Jaskier, watching him babble.

"I'll go tell him to leave, Y/N, I'm so sorry," you heard him say, his voice barely registering over the ringing in your ears.

You felt him get up off the couch, your blurred vision registering the now empty spot on the couch only after you heard your door be pulled open.

Every fiber of your being was on fire. You were frozen. You wanted to throw yourself on the floor. You wanted to run to him.

"Y/N..." you heard him say. Fuck he sounded sad. You wanted to hold him, tell him it'll be okay. You wanted to slam the door in his face. You forgive him. You'll never forgive yourself.

Against your better judgement, you felt yourself to turn look towards the front door and your breath caught when you saw him.

Gods above, you thought, he should have stayed away.

[kokoch4n3l]

DEAD GIRL’S BEACH ࿐ྂ KUROKAWA IZANA x f!oc x SANO MANJIRO

THREE — iv bags and daffodils

"he looks at me like I'm below him. he doesn't say it nor does he act that way but his eyes say it all. patient likes loves power. he craves it" — MAYA'S ROUGH NOTES ON K.I

chapter summary: Maya faces a moral dilemma, trying to pick between her livelihood and ethics all while under the watchful eye of the hospital director and her patient, Kurokawa Izana.

chapter warnings: inaccurate depictions of psychiatric hospitals, mentions of alcohol, mentions of depression, drug use, allusions to sex, abuse of authority, power imbalance, unethical use of drugs, mentions of alcohol, mentions of rape, mentions of murder

word count: 4213

moodboard | masterlist | previous | chapter 4

Pretty is what Kurokawa Izana would use to describe Kaneko Maya. She was so pretty. Kaneko Maya was cute, funny, pretty and just Manjiro's type. Had his younger brother not been a depressed little shit right now, Izana would have gotten Ran to gift her to Manjiro. Even if he did now, Izana doubts Manjiro would even do anything. He heard that depression affects the libido. Even before he was admitted into this shitty psychiatric hospital, no matter how many hostess bars he took Manjiro to, how many hookers he called over, how many strip clubs— Manjiro was just bored. For a while, he thought the guy was probably a nervous virgin who only knew how to fight but after a drunken conversation with Sanzu Haruchiyo, Manjiro's childhood friend, he finds out that was in fact not the case. Manjiro was pretty popular with the girls when they were in middle school(due to his shoulder-length blonde hair and girls having a huge thing for pretty boys with the deep voices). Manjiro was 100%, not a virgin and just depressed as hell. "Kakucho" Izana says holding the flip phone against his ear "How's everything going?"

Friday came by pretty quickly as usual. "It's fine as usual. You'll be out on Monday. Are you excited?" Kakucho, his childhood and right-hand man asks

Izana leans back in his shitty bed and stares out the window. It's about 10:30 am, the sun is still rising. "Yeah, about time. If it wasn't for the cute little doctor that gives me company during her night shift, would've gone fuckin' crazy for real"

"That sounds unprofessional" Kakucho mutters in disappointment

Izana laughs. "It's actually not like that. Cute kid, fresh outta uni"

Kakucho laughs. It's rare to hear Kakucho laugh. "I don't believe that one-bit Izana"

"Well, you better. Kaneko Maya, real eye candy" Izana hums and stares up at the white ceiling and starts to ramble about her "talks a lot and y’know I usually hate girls that yap but she's a real cutie. Thinkin' she can fix me and shit. It’s so fuckin’ cute. She's got this little notebook she takes notes on when she talks to me. Nosey as fuck but real cute. Got these blowjob eyes—"

"She's a psychiatrist, she's supposed to be nosey," Kakucho cuts him off before he can get vulgar, simultaneously ignoring the number of times Izana used the word cute to describe his psychiatrist "What did you say her name was again?"

Izana scoffs. "You gonna do a background check on my little doctor Kakucho? This late in too? 'M leavin' Monday"

"It's my job"

Of course, it was. Kakucho was protective. Overprotective at times. It was one of the reasons Izana kept him around. To feel wanted(and because he cared about him but Izana won't say that out loud). "Kaneko Maya. How 'bout ya’ tell me what cha' find when you're done"

"Of course"

And they end the phone call not long after. Izana sits in silence for a while and sighs tiredly. He stares down his left arm with the iv in it. Apparently whatever medication was being given to him was essential to his recovery but he really fuckin' hated it. He felt like actual shit. Tired all the time, sleepy as shit. He hated it. Oh well, he was getting out this Monday anyway. He had been here for 2 months and Maya had only been working here for a month. Perhaps had she been here the whole time the first month would have been more bearable as well. He was leaving Monday anyway. Maybe if Maya was that kind of girl she'd take up the offer of coming to his beach house and maybe she'd even put Manjiro in a good mood with those cute puppy eyes she has. After all, Manjiro has always had a fixation on cute and pretty things and Izana knew him long enough to know that. Izana hears his door click and inwardly sighs in annoyance at whoever was going to enter his room. He glares at the door but his harsh gaze immediately turns into one of surprise when seeing his night shift doctor. "what are you doing here?" He asks, narrowing his eyes at Maya

Maya is wearing her blue scrubs, her white doctor's coat sleeves folded to her elbows. She's got the pager clipped to her belt, the key bracelet thing around her wrist and her ID card securely clipped to the breast pocket on her coat. "wow no hi or good morning or how are you?" Maya asks sarcastically, the door shutting with a click behind her

Her eyes are slightly red and she looks exhausted. Her hair is tied back in a bun with a few curly strands framing her face. "Hi, good morning, how are you?" Izana says sarcastically then changes immediately to a more serious and authoritative tone "You ended your shift 6 hours ago. Go home"

Maya's shift starts from 9 pm to 4 am, she brings the patients dinner because the nurses pushed the job onto her, brings the trays back and down to the kitchen, then comes back up and sticks around as there wasn't much to do unless one of the patients/criminals, needed something which wasn't often. "Yeah... But I fell asleep in the breakroom after my shift and the old man in charge of the morning told me to take his shift and went home before I could say anything" she complained and plopped down on the chair and bolted down on the floor by his bed "I complained to the director but he told me that since I was here anyway I should just take the shift and he'd paid me extra"

Izana can't help but roll his eyes. She really wanted to pay off those loans huh? "I think that's called exploitation" He says

Which is huge coming from Izana considering what he does for a living. "Yeah but... Money" she shrugs "I get to leave at lunchtime though and don't have to come back for the night shift"

"Oh gee! How great!" Izana says sarcastically once again

Izana feels a bit odd being annoyed about the fact that his doctor is being taken advantage of. He's known her for a month and he knows she's kind and these other shitty old people employed here liked to take advantage of her kindness. To make it worse she rarely complained about it. Oh well, at least he gets to see her longer and talk to her for longer. "Haven't seen those before" Izana says looking at the two necklaces she was wearing

One was a gold oval pendant with a delicate border and the outline of a flower in the center of it. The second necklace, also gold, was a small butterfly pendant. Cute. "What's the thing in the center of the coin?" He asks "A rose?"

Maya looks down at her necklace and realizes they are untucked. It was a huge safety hazard considering she could be choked. But Sunshine Grove was a shitty psychiatric hospital and none of the employees really took safety seriously(Maya neither) so they rarely removed jewelry and just kept things like necklaces tucked under their clothes. "Ah~ it's a daffodil," Maya tells him, touching the pendant "my birth flower. My birthday's in March"

Izana chuckles. How cute. "Your birth flower, hm..."

One thing Izana liked about Maya was that she tended to ramble about random things that interested her. "Oh oh have you heard that greek myth story about daffodils?" She asks

Izana would usually be annoyed at this kind of rambling but perhaps Maya had the privilege to just talk. Pretty privilege is what Ran calls it. Izana forgot what he meant since he usually tunes whatever Ran says, out but he figures maybe this is what it is. "So basically there was this guy Narcissus. He was supposedly really good-looking. But he never found anyone that could attract him. He left a long trail of distressed and broken-hearted maidens, and one or two young men fell as well" she giggles a bit then continues the story "Then, one day, he happened to see his own reflection in a pool of water and, thus, discovered the ultimate in unrequited love and fell in love with himself. Obviously, this one-way relationship went nowhere, and Narcissus, unable to draw himself away from the pool, pined away in despair until he finally died of thirst and starvation"

Izana raises a brow. "What?"

"Yeah, and he turned into a daffodil. So another name for daffodils is Narcissus" 

Izana can't help but laugh. What a stupid story. "I'm guessing this shitty story has a moral like all Greek myths"

Maya nods. "I think it was a warning not a moral. Something like ‘love and obsession lie closer together than we think’ or something" 

Oh. Time passes by when Maya rambles. She was honestly the highlight of his day or well, night. But right now it was the day so she was the highlight of his day. He figures that since she's here right now she won't be here tonight and since it was Friday he won't see her till Monday. He’ll stay a while before he leaves on Monday to say goodbye. Time passes by fast and soon comes lunch. "You know doctor, if there's one thing I'll miss about this shitty place it'll be you talking my ear off" Izana says playfully

Maya laughs. "really well—" she pauses taking in his word "what do you mean? I'm still gonna be working here y'know"

"I'm leaving Monday. Getting discharged and will be back to my normal life" He tells her with a grin "what are you gonna miss me?"

He's being playful but the expression on Maya's face makes him confused. Why is she looking at him like that. He watches her pull out the little notebook of her's and flip through the pages. Izana watches as she mutters something to herself and all he hears are little curse. "Hey, doctor... What's wrong?" He asks in confusion

Why was this her reaction? Maya gets up and walks over to where his IV bag was hung up. She looks long and hard at the bag then turns to him. She's standing right next to him. She rarely gets this close. "You're leaving on Monday?" she repeats with a frown “like discharged and going home?”

Izana is starting to get worried and a bit aggravated, not understanding why she's looking at him like that. As far as he knew she knew nothing about him or what he did. So why was she giving him that look? "Doctor. I'd like to know why you're looking at me like that" Izana says slowly

He isn't nervous. Not at all. A man like him isn't nervous. He's concerned. There's a huge difference between the two emotions. He watches Maya take a breath. "Um... Mr. Kurokawa..." She pauses and looks at him nervously "What... What are you here for? What are you admitted here for?"

That question confuses him. Why was she asking him that? Shouldn't she know? "You should know what I'm here for" He tells her lowly, narrowing her eyes at him "You're my—"

"Mr. Kurokawa" Maya says, her voice a bit breathy 

She looks scared almost and it's starting to annoy the hell out of Izana. "Cocaine addiction. Now tell me why you're making that face"

Maya looks nervous, scared and confused. So many different emotions swirl around in her eyes. "So... You're not a convicted criminal?"

He was 100% a criminal but not a convicted one. No one has caught him yet but Maya didn't need to know that. "No and why does that relate to this?"

Maya looks like she might throw up. "You're here for addiction but you're on the fourth floor and not second" She says

"Why should I be on the second floor?" He asks, his voice demanding and angry

Maya sucks in a breath. "second floor is where patients admitted for addiction stay... You're on the fourth floor where the convicted criminals who got off by claiming insanity"

Oh. Oh… Maya chews nervously at her bottom lip. She looks like she might throw up and Izana is pissed. He's fucking pissed. He watches Maya pat her pockets and she pulls out a piece of gauze and then takes his hand. He's about to ask what she's doing but then she puts the gauze pad over the insertion site as gently as she can. She starts to pull it out, increasing pressure as she smoothly withdraws the catheter. Izana stays silent and watches her stick a bandaid to the area. "keep pressure on it for a few minutes" she mumbles and grabs the IV bag

Izana puts his thumb over his wrist where the IV was inserted and watches her. She looked like she was going to be sick and it was pissing him off. What the hell? Maya is about to leave but he stops her. "Doctor... If this is what I think it is..." Izana says slowly

Maya just shakes her head and leaves his room. Izana narrows his eyes, staring at the door. He looks down at his wrist where the IV was just taken out of and was now replaced with a bandage. He stares for a moment longer then pulls out the flip-phone again and calls Kisaki. 

"What's this?" Maya threw the half-empty IV bag onto the hospital director's desk

The hospital director, Doctor Nakamura, narrows his eyes at her. "I don't appreciate you coming in without knocking Doctor Kaneko" He says lowly

Maya wasn't going to back down today. She needed answers. She may be new, she may have just graduated a few months ago but what was wrong was wrong. "Why is Mr Kurokawa on the fourth floor and not the second? He's here for cocaine addiction not for a court order" Maya was going to get her answers today "Why is he being given a sedative and that too, that high of a dose?"

She didn't care about superiority or anything. It didn't matter. Not now when a patient was clearly not being treated for what he came for. This was against the ethics of a doctor. "Doctor Kaneko..." Doctor Nakamura says, grabbing the half-empty IV bag with a dark almost crazed look in his eyes "That man... That man is evil incarnate—"

Maya rubs her temples. "Cocaine addiction does not make a man evil incarnate. You run a psychiatric hospital you can’t say things like that. Whatever it is you did, whatever it is you're doing is wrong" Maya says sternly

This was making her sick. She couldn't believe this. She knew Sunshine Grove was shitty with how they'd push all the work onto her but she didn't think it was so shitty that they'd give a patient a drug they didn't even need. This was disgusting.  "Doctor Kaneko. You don't know what he did. this is much deeper than cocaine addiction"

"He's getting out on Monday! Mr. Kurokawa has been here for 2 months" Maya argues "If he did something so bad, he wouldn't be leaving. He'd be in jail"

Doctor Nakamura doesn't look like he has the patience for this. But Maya doesn't either. What was wrong, was wrong. "Listen Miss Kaneko..." He says slowly, now looking very aggravated, no longer using her proper title "We'll have this conversation on Monday when your shift starts. How about you go home? You must be exhausted"

It wasn't a suggestion but an order. "Unless you want to start looking for another hospital that will hire you, Miss Kaneko"

Maya feels a lump rise in her throat. No. Nonononono. No. She can't lose her job. She can't. She stares at Doctor Nakamura with wide eyes. This wasn't fair. She was trying to do the right thing and— shit. She opens her mouth to say something, to try and argue, to at least give him a threat of reporting him for mistreating Kurokawa Izana but nothing comes out. Maya feels powerless. It was between her livelihood and her morals. Was this what her mother meant? Was this what she meant when she said it was hard to be a doctor? Maya thought psychiatrists were different. She thought... She thought... This wasn't fair. She clenches his fists and lowers her head. "Yes sir" she says in defeat and promptly leaves the office

Maya walks back to the lockrooms with her head down. She feels like shit. She can't believe she gave in that easily. She hates herself. She can't even get herself to go back up to Izana's room and give him an explanation. She's horrible. She's a shit person and she knows that the guilt is gonna make her sick till she throws up. Maya pulls her hair out of the bun and runs her fingers through it angrily as she walks into the locker room without paying attention to her surroundings. stupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupid— "shit!"

Maya looks up at realizes she just had her book main character moment where she bumps into the really hot guy's rock-hard chest. The guy no doubt was very hot. He's a security guard by the looks of the uniform but doesn't look like anyone she's seen on duty before. He has black hair parted in the center, olive-toned skin and heterochromatic eyes, one red and the other silver. But what really caught Maya's eye was the scar on his face. Starting from his left ear, going over the corner of his left(silver) eye then up across his forehead and disappearing into his hairline. Maya stops staring and lowers her gaze. "S-sorry" she stutters out "I wasn't watching where I was going. My bad"

He's tall and oh... Wow, he's well-built. Maya has to will herself to tear her gaze away from his chest. This guy 100% had a fricken six-pack underneath that uniform. "It's fine..." He pauses and looks at her up and down "You look tired Doctor"

Maya laughs nervously. Oh man, this guy was hot. It's almost making her forget about the guilt. Oh wait, nope she remembered it again. "Well, I'm new and you know, these oldies like pushing their work onto the newbies," She says with a shrug "I'm going home right now though... I haven't seen you around though"

The man is staring at her ID card pinned to her coat. "Hm.. Yeah, I am... I'll be taking the night shift from now on. 4th floor. They're just gonna be showing me around today"

Maya's eyes light up. New eye candy for the 4th floor now that Izana was leaving? Okay, maybe that makes her feel a little better. "Oh I work night shifts on the fourth floor too" she gives the man a friendly smile "I'm Doctor Kaneko Maya"

The man nods. Professional but also somewhat friendly. "Hitto Kakucho. I prefer just Kakucho"

Hitto? That was an odd last name. She doesn't think she's ever heard it before. But his odd last name slipped her mind pretty quickly due to the guilt she was feeling and the unholy thoughts about Kakucho that were going through her head. Oh man, he's hot and these contrasting feelings are making her head hurt. "I'll be seeing you on Monday then Doctor" Kakucho says "Get home safe"

Maya nods and Kakucho brushes past her. The locker room is once again engulfed in silence and now all that's left is Maya's guilt. She sighs and texts Chifuyu to ask him to pick her up. 

Maya sits outside in the reception area waiting for Chifuyu to come get her. She usually drives herself but last night Chifuyu insisted on driving her last night. Maya stares at the white tiled floor, sighing for the nth time. She felt like actual shit. The guilt is making her sick. Izana had been given that damn sedative for 2 months. Sometimes she'd administer it to him too. For what? For some messed up reason, she's still yet to find out. Maya feels guilty and gross and just horrible. She wants to cry. She hates this. None of this was fair. Why did it have to be her patient? Had she really just got herself caught up in something stupid all for the sake of money? Shit shit shit Maya really hated herself right now. "fuck~" she whines to herself and leans forward till her forehead touches her knees while she sits in the chair 

She feels like a stupid idiot. She should have just asked Izana what he was here for on the first day instead of trying to be nice and let him open up on his own. Now look where being nice got her. Maya flinches as her phone vibrates. She gets up and grabs her bag off the floor. It was probably Chifuyu. She bids goodbye to the man at the reception and leaves the building at the sight of a black car outside. Except it's not Chifuyu leaning against the car, it's Naoto. Her cheeks flush. Of-fucking-course Chifuyu was trying to play matchmaker. Right now wasn't a good time with how sick she felt. "hey" Naoto says with a small smile

He looks shy and had it not been for her guilt, Maya knows she'd probably be feeling the same way. "H-Hey, did Chifuyu send you?" Maya asks nervously "I'm so sorry"

Naoto shakes his head and opens the passenger seat of his car. "Oh no don't worry. Was on a break anyway. Chifuyu said he was busy and told me to come" 

Maya slides into the passenger seat and after making sure she's sitting comfortably he closes the door. Maya puts her bag on the floor of the car and puts on her seat belt. Naoto gets into the driver's side and starts the car. "I thought you had the night shift, what are you doing here so late?" He asks putting on his seatbelt

"They had a shortage... I'll be getting paid for overtime though so it's fine" Maya says trying to ignore the shitty feeling of guilt that just isn't going away

Oh man, she needed a drink. "You look exhausted. Should get some sleep when I drop you home" Naoto tells her as he pulls out of the parking lot and then out of the front gate of the hospital

"Yeah, I will.... gonna shower and just sleep and..." She pauses and thinks for a moment as they make it onto the main road "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did" Naoto points out with a small laugh and Maya can't help but laugh as well. "I'm kidding, ask away"

She thinks for a moment and tries her best to word her question. Perhaps getting an outside opinion would make her feel better. "You're a police officer, right? H-Has there ever been a time where you had to choose between your job or..." she pauses "Livelihood is a better word... Um... Has there ever been a time when you had to choose between your livelihood and your morals?"

Naoto looks surprised by her question. He keeps his eyes on the road as he answers. "W-well yeah... Have to all the time. Just last month I got called out on duty to arrest a woman for murder..." Naoto recalls then frowns "I asked her why she did it during interrogation she told me it was because the man raped her"

"Oh" Maya mumbles quietly

"You don't understand how badly I wanted to let her go. Murder is wrong but those cases... In those rare cases, even wrong can be right"

Maya takes in the information. She tries to apply it to her situation, to find just where the director was coming from but she couldn't. Kurokawa Izana didn't deserve that treatment. "But I have to say, Maya, if this is about work our situations are different... In other departments, things can be covered up by saying it was a fraud scam or corruption... In the medical department, however," He lowers his tone to "It's negligence of life... murder"

Maya's heart pounds. He was right. She didn't think of that. "Yeah... you're right" she mumbles

A silence washes over the car for a moment till Naoto speaks up again. "If there is something wrong at work, I can help you out" 

It was a nice offer but what was she supposed to say? Where was she supposed to start? Maya feels stupid because she knows she can just tell Naoto but she can't get herself to. She feels stupid and guilty and the feeling doesn't cease even as Naoto drops her off at her place. Maya's shoulder slouch as she unlocks her door. She hates this so much. A shudder passes through her suddenly at the feeling of being watched. Maya looks around for a moment and sees no one. She shakes her head and brushes it off as stress and goes into her home, locking the door behind her.

From the other side of the street, Kisaki Tetta blows out a cloud of smoke and scoffs.

notes: I do NOT condone any of the acts committed in this fic. Next chapter is gonna be my first time ever writing smut so plz, if it's bad I'm sorry 😭

I would also like to point out that I am a criminology major and don’t know much about the medical field, especially psychiatry. Everything written in this fic is not supposed to be accurate but just for the plot.

This is a double update so next chapter is already up. I have also added chapter summaries to the masterlist so go take a look!

I hope you enjoyed reading so far :)

updates are every monday

taglist: @kokonoiscoconut @mysouleaten @yaya4thawin @piroporopo @reiners-milkbiddies

[lonelycowgirls]

Staying Afloat aka yachtie!harry

Here we go... part one of Scarlett's story!

I can't wait for ya'll to read this and what I have in store for these characters. This is mostly self-indulgent because I LOVE Below Deck, but I hope you all love it, regardless.

Click here for the Character List if you want to really form a picture in your mind.

Please like, reblog and follow if you enjoy it!

My asks are also open for feedback and ideas to how this universe can continue.

Nel xo

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Warnings: swearing Word count: 4.2k

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Intimidating moustaches and pretty boys...

Scarlett

"Buongiorno, signora."

"Buongiorno." I handed the man with a very intimidating moustache, sitting behind the immigration inspection desk, my passport. My new bright orange floral leather sleeve sat in the crevice between his thumb and forefinger as he fingered through the pages to find the photograph page. I smiled genuinely at him before looking back to my phone to check the text that told me where I would be meeting my taxi driver. Normally the broker would arrange for the drivers to meet me with a sign in the airport arrival area, but this time it looked like I would have to meet them outside the airport in the taxi rank. Not that I minded, I just enjoyed the usual more - it made me feel famous.

"Business or pleasure, signora?"

"Business," I responded, tossing my hair over to the other side and hoisting my carry-on bag further onto my shoulder. "I'm working on a super-yacht."

The man nodded once, looking completely unimpressed, before stamping my passport and passing it back to me, waving me through to baggage claim. I smiled again at him, ignoring the fact that he looked past me with a blank stare. I got it, his job looked incredibly tedious. Having to deal with people like me; ignorant people who didn't speak the language and, worse still, refused to learn, entering his country every day. That's us Brits for you.

I wandered to the baggage claim area in pursuit of my bag. Before the upcoming season, I'd just completed a winter season sailing in Australia. My phone buzzed with the familiar 'Welcome to Italy' message from Vodafone. It buzzed again with a text from my mum.

Mum: Hope you're alright, hun. Text me when you land. Dad's still upset that you aren't coming home. Have fun. Mum x

My dad never got it, my ambition to travel. Probably never would. He hadn't been out of the country since he and Mum had split up when I was seventeen. He was happy with summers spent in Skegness and Blackpool. As soon as I found yachting I was on the first bus to Cornwall, where the training took place. My nanna had been an air hostess, so I like to think travelling is in my blood. She was brave and bold and was the first person to defend me at family gatherings for my life choices. I kept an album of her photos from her travelling days under my bed at home and kept a small Polaroid of us together in my purse. It helped when I was second-guessing myself in my job or if I was having a wobble about life. It was all the motivation I needed to keep going.

Walking through the bustling airport, I checked the screens above each luggage belt for the correct one. Amsterdam... Paris... London... Sydney. As I approached the Sydney belt, I pulled my headphones out of my bag to continue listening to the podcast I'd had on during the flight. I was in the middle of being lectured on why we were all wrong about Anna Nicole Smith by a pair of millennials - who were most likely barely birthed when she was actually alive - before the plane began to land.

The belt moved around and around for almost half an hour before any bags actually made their way out to its impatiently awaiting audience. I watched as a little boy ran to jump onto a giant black suitcase that was bulging at the sides, his dad rushed to pick both the boy and the suitcase up off the belt before they both found themselves winding back out to the mysterious place where the bags were handled. No one ever really questions where they come from or who handles them, they simply just appear. The boy's mum was in the middle of breastfeeding a very young baby but wasn't deterred from chastising the boy loud enough for me to hear over my headphones.

I watched a young lad from a group of tatted-up blokes, who I assumed were on a stag do, help an elderly man hoist his very large leopard print suitcase off the belt once he'd seen he was struggling. I then watched the elderly man wheel the case and its matching carry-on over to another elderly man who grabbed his hand to guide them both towards the arrivals exit.

I spotted my Gucci (T.K Maxx Special) monogrammed suitcase as it came steadily around the corner and stepped to pick it up, dragging it to land heavily on the shiny marble floor, being careful to not drop it on my sandalled feet. Then I just had to wait for my dad's old navy-blue duffle to wind its way through.

Walking out from the arrivals exit, the heat hit me straight in the face, but with a pleasantry that only came from the Italian Riviera. I sighed happily and slid my Dior sunglasses over my eyes. They were a gift from my last boyfriend, but for that price, there was no way they'd be going to the tip like the rest of his stuff.

Before looking for my taxi, I stepped to the side to toss my curls into a high bun. There was no way I'd make it through a hot taxi ride with probably no air conditioning with my thick black locks hanging around my neck and face. Once I was satisfied with the look after a quick check in a nearby parked car window, I lit a cigarette and checked my phone again for the licence plate number of the taxi I'd be taking to the dock.

Glancing around, my eyes landed on a sleek black Tesla. My eyebrows raised, sliding the glasses down my nose, I double-checked its plate number with my phone once more. If this luxury travel was anything to go by, this charter season, I was in for a treat.

"Grazie mille." I said as the kind man, who I learned was named Tullio, tried to carefully remove my heavy bag from the boot of the car. "It's okay you can just drop it." He smiled and wiped his brow and began to wheel it up the dock. I rushed to stump out my second cigarette on the top of the nearest bin, then trotted to catch up with him, attempting to take the handle from him. "Oh, please, um, per favore, I can take it from here." He waved me off and gestured for me to lead on. I blew a few stray curls from my forehead, smiled tight-lipped at him and stepped to start making my way up the dock.

Mega-yacht after mega-yacht passed by as I searched for the one I'd been hired on, Andiamo. I felt the awkwardness creep up my spine at the thought of meeting the crew and captain alongside Tullio. I didn't want them to think I was one of those stewardesses. I already knew that I'd give that impression with my choice of designer bag - even if it was a knock-off. I didn't need a small, sweaty Italian man in a too-tight suit trailing behind me with it to make that worse.

"Ah, here we are, grazie, Tullio." I smiled widely, stopping outside a random boat. He looked at me, one bushy brow raised in question, then shook his head and continued up the dock. My face fell and I followed him sheepishly. He must have thought I was barmy.

As we approached the end of the dock, I spotted a tall man, arms folded, looking sharp in a uniform. He was standing at the stern of a boat that the closer we approached became clear to be named, Andiamo. I couldn't see how many stripes were on his uniform but my guess was that he was the captain. The rattling of my suitcase along the creaky wooden boards of the dock grabbed his attention and he opened his arms wide, laughing sharply before clapping his hands twice.

"Ciao, bella!" The man on the boat exclaimed loudly in a very American twang, making poor Tullio jump slightly and mutter incoherently in Italian. The dock was so quiet otherwise. I smiled and brought one hand to shield my eyes and the other up to wave at him. He jogged around the side of the huge ship, practically skipped down the passerelle and hopped onto the dock as we met in the middle. "Welcome, Scarlett!" He yelled, even though we were barely two steps apart. Americans.

"Ciao, you must be-"

"Captain Bobby, a pleasure to meet you." He held a hand out for me to shake, which I did with gusto - always eager to make a good first impression and wanting to match his energy. He turned to Tullio who stood beside me. "Signore, grazie, I'll take it from here." Bobby nodded, but Tullio didn't move. "Oh, right." Bobby jumped into action, patting the pockets of his trousers in search of his wallet. Pulling it from the back of his very tight white trousers, he plucked out a note and handed it to Tullio who saluted us both and meandered back up the dock. Bobby sighed awkwardly while putting his wallet back, but he recovered quickly. "Alright, let's get you on board." He clapped his hands again, rubbing them together before hoisting my suitcase onto his shoulder with surprising ease. My eyes wandered to the bulging muscle of his upper arms in his smart white shirt and epaulettes, but only for a second before I shook it off and followed him up the passerelle, kicking off my shoes in the process.

"She's a beauty, Captain." I said, glancing around the gorgeous boat before me.

"Yeah, we've got ourselves a looker, that's for sure!" He shouted again, leading me into the bridge.

"So, Scarlett-" He said, placing my suitcase onto the pristine burgundy carpet and rolling it to sit in the corner.

"Oh, please, call me Lettie. It's what all my other boats called me." I corrected with a shrug and a smile. He nodded.

"Alright, Lettie. I've obviously read over your resume many times, but please, tell me a bit about yourself." He leaned back against the arm of the big leather captain's chair and folded his arms across his chest. He smiled and I noticed how kind his eyes were, with the way they crinkled at the corners. He was a pretty young captain from my experience, I hoped that that fact would bode well.

"Well, I'm 27 years old, I'm from Liverpool originally but I've been travelling and yachting since I was 19. I've just come from a season in Oz which was a 74-footer, and I-"

"ROBERT?!" I jolted slightly at the loud interruption that sounded like it came from the dock. I whipped around whilst the captain clapped his hands again and laughed as he squeezed my shoulder, darting out of the door. I frowned as I watched him leave and moved to look at what all the fuss was about.

"Hey hey! Harold! You're looking fresh, my man!" I leaned against the small entryway to the bridge to watch the captain jog to meet a long-haired man at the end of the passerelle. The man had round black sunglasses on, a patterned shirt that was undone to just past his chest, and loose brown shorts. He'd brought half his wardrobe if his baggage was anything to go by. I counted four black duffle bags that were bursting at the seams resting on the dock. It's a good job Tullio only had to pick me up from the airport...

"You're telling me?! Get in here you handsome bastard." The two men hugged closely, clapping their hands on each other's backs. I rolled my eyes at the bro fest and stepped back into the bridge to wander down the stairs and through to the interior of the boat. It was beautiful; varnished wooden surfaces, a luxurious curved sofa as a centrepiece, all leading to wall-to-wall double glass doors that led out to a stunning view from the aft deck, and loads of vast space. I ran my finger along a windowsill and lifted it to see a coat of dust. Sure, it was stunning, but it was fucking filthy. I sighed and looked out the window, I imagined who I would be working with and hoped that they were ready to put in some hard work because I wanted to make good money this season. I heard the low timbre of male voices approaching again and turned to see them coming down the winding stairs, still chatting and catching up.

"Ah, there she is! Harry, this is Scarlett- oh sorry, I mean Lettie. Our chief stewardess for the season." I smiled at the men and stepped to extend my hand to shake.

"Great to meet you, Scarlett. I'm the bosun." He said, smiling around a deep British accent. As he took my palm in his, I noticed how rough his hands were, the classic sign of a deckie.

"You too, Harry. You're quite young for a bosun, eh?" He shrugged and smirked.

"Maybe I'm not as young as you think."

"Harry's been my first mate for three years now, we were on another boat though. I trust you guys will work well together to figure out everything on Andiamo." I nodded dutifully and hoped that Harry wouldn't be what I suspected he'd be from first impressions. But something deep inside me secretly hoped that he would. I supposed that only time would tell.

We walked further into the interior and on down to the crew mess. The captain led the way through to explain where the crew quarters were. I was surprised by how big the space for the crew was, my previous boat had had tiny living quarters. "So, Lettie you'll have two stews under you, a girl and a guy, if I remember correctly." I nodded. "And you've actually got the same under you, H."

"Nothing new there then," Harry smirked to the captain, who rolled his eyes playfully.

"I don't wanna know, man." Captain Bobby put his hands up in surrender and wandered back out to the mess. Harry glanced back at me and I quirked a brow in his direction, before moving past him to check where the uniforms had been stored.

Just as I started sifting through the laundry room and placing uniforms into piles for everyone, I heard the captain yelling again above. The crew mess was normally very soundproof, due to all the debauchery that usually took place there - he was really that loud. I guessed that more crew were arriving.

"Hey, Harry what size t-shirt are you?" I called out to him.

"Depends, is it Fruit of the Loom?"

"Um, no. They're unbranded." I looked at the label on the neck of the bright teal-coloured shirt in my hand. I walked back out to the mess to see him sprawled out on the bench seat, munching on an apple. He'd put his shoulder-length hair into a bun that didn't look much different to my own. "They're soft though. This one's a large? What do you think?" He jumped up from where he sat in the mess and bared his chest, holding the apple in his teeth. I scoffed a laugh and held up the shirt to his chest, he nodded with a smirk, his dimples poking through each side of the apple.

"This'll do, Scar." He took the shirt from me and put it over his shoulder as he took another bite of his apple, moving past me to go into his room. My move to return to the laundry room was halted by a girl coming down the stairs.

"Hi! I'm Marnie!" The girl exclaimed, her blonde hair whipping to catch up with how quickly she'd bounded down the stairs. She pulled on the straps of her enormous backpack to readjust it on her tiny shoulders.

"Oh, hi Marnie, I'm Scarlett. But you can call me Lettie." I smiled and shook her hand and tried not to be blinded by her perfect white teeth, bared in a bright smile. "I'm the chief stew."

"Great! I'm a deckie." She explained, her strong Australian accent caused a ripple of warmth through my veins. I already missed Oz. Hearing footsteps, I turned back to see Harry jogging through the narrow corridor towards us.

"Is that a deckie, I hear?" He said, still chomping on his half-eaten apple. "Hey, I'm Harry, bosun" Marnie didn't miss a beat, opening her arms up to signal a hug, which caused Harry to hesitate slightly before accepting.

"I'm so excited for this season! Is anyone else here yet?"

"Just us and Cap so far."

"Oh, pick of the rooms then!" Marnie winked, if her speech was written down, every sentence would be finished off with an exclamation mark. I loved her already. I led her to the bedroom next to Harry's, which she'd be sharing with the engineer, who, I was pleased to see, was also female.

I continued sorting through the laundry, placing fresh uniform packs onto each of the free beds. Each pack had a pair of white shirts with epaulettes, corresponding to each role, a pair of teal polo shirts, and a pair of shorts or a skort, depending on the person. Then I started unpacking in my room.

I was in the middle of organising my knickers and bras neatly into a drawer when I heard a crash. Rushing out into the hallway I was met with Harry's confused face across from me. We looked at each other for a second before he tilted his head for me to lead the way towards the crew mess.

I gasped, "Oh, Christ, are you okay?" I reached to help the girl that was trying to lift herself up off her enormous, metallic silver, hardshell suitcase that was lying flat on the polished wooden floor.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry, I'm so embarrassed."

"Did you fall down all those stairs?" I asked, Harry moved the suitcase to sit back on its four wheels, rolling it to the side of the crew mess table. The girl nodded, rubbing her elbow.

"Why didn't you get Cap to carry your suitcase down here for you? Or he could've radioed me." Harry leaned against the table, folding his arms across his chest. I took her arm in my hands and turned it inspect the possible damage.

"Wanted to do it myself." The girl said in a smaller voice. She was so petite, but I could see the lines of muscles in her bare arms, she probably could have done it herself if the stairs weren't so narrow. "I'm fine, honestly. I'll just go to my room." She shrugged her arm out of my grasp and moved towards her case. I frowned in her direction and caught Harry's eye as she moved down the hallway, he smirked, confirming that we'd both had the same thought. She was a stew.

"Um, hey, I can let you know which room you're in, what's your name?"

"Molly," she sighed in an accent I could tell hailed from either New York or Boston. "I'm second stew, I think." She stopped and glanced to look at me expectantly.

"Oh, yes. I'm Scarlett, but you can call me Lettie. I'm chief stew." I smiled slightly, I felt like I was treading on eggshells around this girl. "You're in with me," I said, beckoning her towards our room. "I hope you don't mind the top bunk, I just prefer to be on the ground." I laughed lightly. Molly smiled tight-lipped at me and lifted her suitcase up onto the top bunk with minimal effort. I knew it.

We continued to unpack in silence, I hoped that this frost that had come to rest upon the beginnings of our relationship was temporarily caused by her unwanted trip down the stairs. I'd just finished making my bed when I heard another voice, this time deep and masculine, I counted my lucky stars as I left the room.

"Hi!" It was my turn to say everything with an exclamation mark. The man jumped as I rushed towards him. He had dark shades on and just a large backpack slung over one shoulder. His megawatt smile made my belly flip - he was fucking gorgeous. "Sorry, I'm Scarlett, I'm the chief stew." Stepping forward, I collected myself and held a hand for him to shake. His bulging muscle flexed as he shook it, before lifting his shades to sit on his head and slinging his backpack to the floor.

"So nice to meet you Scarlett, I'm Jesse. I'm a steward." I quirked my brow at him, but inwardly rolled my eyes at myself for assuming that he would be a deckie.

"Nice to meet you, too! Looking forward to working with you this season. Let me show you where you'll be staying." I led Jesse to where he'd be staying with the male deckhand and left him to settle in and unpack.

I looked at my Apple Watch and decided to take a smoke break before heading up to start organising the boat. I let both of my stews know to be ready to help within the hour and headed up to the aft deck.

The sun was just beginning to set over the line where the sky met the steady waves of the sea. I sat on the teak and slid my legs through the bars to dangle over the edge of the boat. Taking a cigarette out of the personalised case my Grandma had given me and lit one. I sighed the smoke out and swung my legs back and forth in front of me, leaning an arm back to rest on. I thought about quitting every time I left a boat - smoking that is. But every time I boarded a new one all I could think about was having a ciggy out on the deck. It was just too easy, the culture was smoking and, to be honest, I'd find myself desperate for one after a hard day on charter.

I took another deep drag and brought my gaze to the crystal-clear water below me. I watched two bright blue fish swim in circular patterns, one of them chasing the other. I smiled softly, leaning my chin on my arm on the metal rail. The warm breeze blew through my curls and made me feel content for a few moments.

"Hey, mind if I knick one of those?" I jumped slightly at the interference of my peace but recognised Harry's low timbre. I turned to face him, his figure stood in the golden sunshine, making him look rather yummy. I nodded and passed him my case and lighter. He flicked it open as he swung his legs through the bars to sit beside me. Lighting up, he looked closer at the metal case, turning it in his hand. He ran his thumb across the raised imagery and wording. "Is this supposed to be you?"

I laughed, blowing another puff of smoke through my lips and nostrils. "What do you think?"

"I think if it's an accurate portrayal, I can't wait to see you in a bikini." I laughed again, taking the case back and looking at it myself. On the front, there was an illustration of an extremely voluptuous woman, naked apart from the flames engulfing her intimate parts. Her head was tilted back, eyes hooded and mouth agape sensually. But her flowing dark curls were where our similarities ended, I could assure him that much.

Yeah, nana wasn't your average grandma.

"I bet. Shame I only brought one-pieces, then, isn't it?" I said, side-eyeing him as I blew more fumes from my lips. I moved to put the case to my side on the teak.

"Ah, I'm sure I've got something you can borrow." He rebuffed casually, looking out to the sunset before us. I side-eyed him harder.

"You've brought bikinis?" I questioned, running my tongue along my the edges of my top teeth in curiosity, a slight lift in the corner of my mouth.

"One or two may have ended up in my suitcase, comes with the territory." I scoffed and rolled my eyes playfully at his cocky wink in my direction. He was one of those guys who had a permanent smirk on his lips. I always got on with guys like that, at least at first. I was never one to take to people who took life too seriously. They usually ended up taking the joke a step too far though.

I decided to chance it and give him a once over as he looked out to sea. His hair was still pulled back in a hair tie, with wispy baby hairs dancing in the warm breeze. Green eyes, squinting in the sunlight but still glittering in the reflection of the ocean beneath us. He had a prominent nose with large nostrils, but it only served to enhance his distinctive face. He interrupted gruffly, a slight cough directed into a fist brought to his mouth. "You should know that. Been in the industry for an age, haven't you."

I glanced back outwards, lining up the tip of my cigarette between my two fingers with the edge of where the sky met the sea. "Certainly feels that way," I mumbled slightly, closing one eye as the scorched tip continued to sizzle away. "Yachting years are like dog years. My body would definitely agree." I decided not to question how he knew the length of time I'd been yachting, it wasn't uncommon for staff to read each other's files before a season, especially the bosun.

"Your body definitely speaks for itself." Harry side-eyed me again, taking a long pull from his cigarette over smirking lips. He was going hard, but I couldn't afford to let my imagination run too wild. He was the bosun and as the chief stew, we needed to have a strong relationship onboard. Which meant avoiding a catastrophic relationship off-board. Although, I let my mind wander to all the ways I could make him feel catastrophic.

Shaking my head and ridding myself of the thoughts, I stubbed my cigarette out in the crystal ashtray I'd found behind the bar in the main salon and moved to stand.

"Alright, pretty boy," I said, before leaning down to speak into his ear, hands squeezing his broad shoulders. "I think it's time we did some work, yeah?" With that, I left him with a parting tap, but I could feel his eyes on me as I walked away. Looking into my reflection before the double glass doors began to slide open, the suspicion was confirmed with a glance at him behind me.

This was going to be one hell of a season.

[fire-emblem-drabbles]

These Violent Desires

Pairing: Yandere! Risotto x reader

Description: You never really had much of a love life. Not for lack of trying on your part, thank you, it just never really happened. Of course, like most people you wanted it: a romance so sweet and comforting it swept you off your feet and left you on cloud nine. But between working full time, being chronically online, and not to mention a depressed mess, you didn't see that happening any time soon. Perhaps its good timing, then, that your ASMR channel starts to take off. Just the distraction you needed from your day to day monotony!

Content Warning: Depression, more depression, minor intrusive thoughts, parasocial behavior, use of female titles (queen, girl) and female reader (will come up more in other parts), I wasn't kidding when I said she chronically online, ask to tag, other parts will different/darker warnings

Rating (fic as a whole): NSFW Rating (Part): SFW

Word Count: 3640

Ao3 Link: These Violent Desires

Notes: I am SO excited to bring this to you! You guys remember the original these violent desires? I sure do! As much as I love that fic, that little series I realize... I really went in to it with not a clue of what my end goal was. Not a great way to write a story. With it being two years since then, and me reading a FANTASTIC FIC from @kneelingshadowsalome (DOG, on their Ao3) that inspired me to reconsider my whole characters and motivations I bring you... this mess (affectionate). I'm actually really excited to bring this back and im gonna start writing the next part as soon as I finish this draft. Also, note: I suspect tumblr isn't gonna respect all the formatting and fun stuff I did so feel free to check it out on Ao3!

Part: One | Two

Sometimes, you really hated your job.

Hated seeing all the cute, happy couples out on a date night. Hated seeing all the happy families and precious little babies. Hated seeing people be so effortlessly happy and carefree. Hated that you had to pretend to be just as enchanted. It made you bleed with jealously, and want to scream and hide in shame.

Although you did feel bad about your burning envy, you hated that it was somewhat malicious; it was just you wanted that same kind of love, someone you were best friends and lovers with-- who you had been together with for years and knew you as much as you knew yourself. Someone you could be yourself with, through thick and thin…

Thinking about it just made you bitter. These things don’t just pop out of nowhere. Relationships had to be worked for; love didn’t just appear. It had to be made, to be cared for and nurtured. So even if you wanted (cried screamed begged) that fairy tale romance to come of sweep you off your feet, it wouldn’t happen. Not unless you find yourself a prince charming awfully soon… And at your current rate well, it wasn’t likely too happen.

You were notoriously bad at dating and getting close to people. Of course, you tried dating apps and meeting new people through your friends but nothing really seemed to click… It didn’t help that you were incredibly dense, as well; with little insight on how dating even worked in the real world you were left just as clueless (and alone) as you came in.

You had a sinking feeling you knew what it was, too; beyond being dense or clueless. You had been struggling against your depression for the better part of your adult life. You got by with plastic smiles and laughs that didn’t really meet your eyes, living life just on the outside looking in. Maybe, people could tell. You always had felt a little different, anyways. Maybe one day you would get better. Maybe one day, you could find something to be happy for. Someone to be happy with.

Today, however, you have a job to do. Rent to make. Jealousy to stew in while you smile and nod and play the perfect little hostess at work. And then you would come home, numb and tired, and not be able to fall asleep. Just to do it again tomorrow.

Work is the same as usual. You’re the only support staff-- no back server to be seen. The servers are too busy with their tables to help you. Seat the table. Water the guests. Grab them bread. It’s all monotonous, said with a sweet smile and voice high and kind. Wait for the guest to leave. Bus the table. Set it back up. And wait for the next guest. Repeat, repeat, repeat.

Its one of those moments in-between, where your gaze is lost far off in the hotel and your thoughts are getting darker by the moment. You wonder if anyone would notice if you just left right now. Walked out into the night, took the wrong bus home, and see what happens where ever you end up.

The shrill sound of the phone ringing catches you out of your stupor. You glance at the phone in surprise, looking down at the screen. Private. Not entirely unusual in your line of work, but just interesting enough. With a gentle hand, you grab the receiver and speak.

“Thank you for calling the Mountaintop Bar and Grill, this is _____ speaking. How may I help you?” Talking on the phone was always easy-- no one could see your not as happy as you sound. Strangely, the line is silent a moment, so you repeat. “Hello, is anyone there?” You wait a few moments again, only hearing faint breathing on the other line if anything. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t hear you. Goodbye.” You hang up the receiver, frowning at the phone before looking at the time.

It was so slow tonight, your surprised to find its nearly time to close. You put up the close sign, take back the last tray and make sure the tables are wiped and reset for the next day. You make careful small talk with your coworkers, make sure that they never think to question what lies beneath the surface of you, and check out with your manager.

You walk slow to your bus, taking the time to put on your earbuds to drown out the world around you. You board the bus, scan your card, and take the same seat you do every time you ride. The same as you always do. The same playlist you always listen to plays, but you don’t really hear it as you open your phone and prepare for the bus ride home.

There was one thing that made you smile, though. Explaining it made you feel kind of silly (mostly strange), but you had a youtube channel. It was kind of small, less than 1000 subscribers really, but the community you built really made you happy. The type of content you created was kind of… niche, to put it nicely. You made asmr videos. Stuff like “Your shy girl friend asks you to spend the night during a big storm (she’s so scared! 🥺🥺)” or “Your roommate asks for your help with her homework (but maybe she wants something more 👀)” or even things a little more raunchy like “You accidentally summon an inexperienced succubus!!! (You Are A Dark Mage Looking For A Familiar)”.

Making them was kind of fun, but what you really enjoyed was your fans. Even if you had never shown your face, (some) of the people in your comments were downright simps. You really only lived for the attention at this point. You even got kind of parasocial with it, talking with some fans in your members only discord.

You scroll through the comments, reading them all and responding to a few while you had the time. Most were sweet, telling you how much they liked your voice and content, others talking about how much you made them blush and giggle. You can’t help but notice you have a new commenter, too. From the looks of things they’ve been following you a while, but have only just now left a comment.

@metal_metalica5

Next time, let me take care of you

It almost feels out of place, with the fully black icon next to it. It’s not like you haven’t had people leaving frankly strange and concerning messages in your comments, but this one rides the line. You wonder who could be behind the comment for a moment. Maybe someone just as depressed and lonely as you, seeking comfort they find in your stories and voice. Someone who just wanted to return the favor. You don’t want to consider anything else, really-- you’d like to think the best of this new commenter.

In the end, you like the comment, smiling to yourself. You check your members discord, seeing the server is a little more abuzz than usual. It was relatively small, with only around 60 people, many of which were lurking themselves. You’re not surprised to find its the same name as the comment left on your most recent video. Your mods and a few members have already greeted them, but you make sure to as well.

work work work today at 9:17 pm

Hi @/metal_metalica5!! Thanks for joining the server, and commenting on the latest video! It’s nice to have your support <3

You don’t wait for a reply, checking out your ats and whats happening in all the other channels. Interacting with everyone brings a smile to your face, and you find yourself grinning as you thank the bus driver and get off at your stop. Cool darkness greets you as you walk down the street to your apartment. Things seem okay-- its your weekend, and you think you could finish recording the last bit of your next video.

Safely indoors, you set your coat and purse down, and make haste to change out of your uniform into something more comfortable. Once you have on some comfortable clothing, you take a seat at your desk and open your laptop. Discord pops open there as well, but you minimize the window for now, opening your recording app. You had been teasing your followers about a 1000 subscriber special for a while, but the idea still made you nervous.

Your plan was to do a live stream/face reveal. It would mostly be talking and playing games, but people could donate to you and you would read out their message. You were still working out the logistics, but you suspected that you would breach 1000 soon so you had better hurry.

“You haven’t ate any food today.” You jump a little at the voice beside you.

“Glory.” You scold, looking over to your stand, Glory and Gore. “I’m not hungry, and I’m busy. I’ll eat before I go to bed.” You turn back to the screen, reading over your transcript for any typos and bad wording.

“It’s not a good idea to neglect the needs of your body.” You can see a frown reach her perfect, pretty lips. You always thought it was unfair your stand was prettier than you. You also thought it ironic that the literal ghost of you was better at taking care of you than the real, physical you (that often felt like a ghost). “You’re already suffering from a few vitamin deficiencies, which aren’t helping with your depression and anxiety at all.”

“Why are you worse than a doctor.” Truthfully, she was right. You should take better care of yourself. You knew that if she could, Glory would fix these things for you. She was a healing stand, able to fix any injury or disease from a person. But vitamin D deficiencies, your stupid little brain chemicals being imbalanced and giving you the Big Sad? Nope. Out of her hands, unfortunately. Ironic that you would have a healing stand and suffer from one of the things she couldn’t fix.

“I just want to see you better.” You look to her, even if she doesn’t have eyes to really see you also, she frowns. Funny, how she was also much more logical and level headed than you.

“Fine, fine. I’ll find some food.” Her hand stops you as you reach for your phone, a stern look taking over her. “Finnnnne, no doordash.” You sigh and place your phone in your pocket, and stand to go to your kitchen. Seeing you head that way, Glory de-manifests, content in knowing you would try to find something to eat.

“...Need to go grocery shopping.” You sigh as you look through the fridge. You really didn’t mind her looking after you. You were aware just how stands were manifest of a users soul and desire-- you wanted someone to take care of you, since you seemed to be failing to do it all by yourself. But at this particular moment, you didn’t have that: what you did have was cheese, and butter. And… turning around, yes, you still have some bread, not yet moldy. Grilled cheese dinner, queen.

You’re even lucky enough to find a singular can of tomato soup in your barren cupboards. Hell yeah, that’s a whole meal. And one you can make in less than 10 minutes. Look at you, being all self sufficient. Queen of mental health over here, cooking her own meals.

As you butter bread and let the pan warm on the oven (soup uncondensed but not quite in the microwave yet), you read more discord chats, surprised to find you have multiple ats all in the gen chat (and a few in the mod chat as well). Everyone is abuzz, with “several people typing” showing up on the bottom of the screen. Gen is moving too fast so you move to the mod chat to see whats happened.

The Best Mod (Jax) today at 10:22 pm

holy shit work work work get in here

Ya Boiiii (Niko) today at 10:22

@/work work work ‼️‼️‼️‼️

work work work today at 10:23

why is everyone going crazy lol whats up

Ya Boiiii (Niko) today at 10:24

smh she don’t even know

The Best Mod (Jax) today at 10:24

you’re over 1000 subs 😤

was like 1010 last I checked

Ya Boiiii (Niko) today at 10: 25

just keeps going up ‼️

work work work today at 10:26

wha

am grilling chesee hold up

You put your phone down, placing the bowl of soup in the microwave and setting the timer with beating heart. Over 1000 subs already? You take a deep breath and place the bread, butter down in the hot pan, placing a generous handful of cheese on top and then the next piece of bread. You pick up your phone barely hearing the sizzling of the bread, instead closing discord to open youtube.

Sure enough, your creator widget shows it: 1013 subscribers, at least a hundred or more than when you last took a look at it. The number was indeed still going up, as when you refresh the page it now reads 1015.

“Where are all these people coming from?” Is all you can wonder. You send a quick “holy shit” to your mods, but quickly return to your food when the beeping microwave calls for your attention.

You pull your soup out quickly, and realize your grilled cheese is starting to burn on the first side and flip it over, relived to see you got to it before it got too bad. Little burnt never hurt anyone anyways. Even as you feel renewed energy and excitement moving through you, you make sure your food is all ready, make sure to turn off the stove top, and fast walk back to your desk with your dinner, eyes quickly going to discord again.

You make sure to send a message in the gen chat, telling everyone thank you and that you’ve seen the good news. Reading back on messages, it seems another popular asmr youtuber (a guy, one you actually follow yourself) had brought you up. He was apparently live streaming (right now), and one of his followers had sent a donation, asking about his thoughts on you. And apparently, he loved your content-- was excited to see what you would do once you hit 1000 followers and not so subtly encouraged his (thousands) of followers to check you out.

work work work today at 10:31 pm

holy fucking shit!?!?! fuckging,,, golden experience likes my content ⁉️⁉️

I can die happy now

im dead

Ya Boiiii (Niko) today at 10:31 pm

nooo don’t die

work work work today at 10:32

joining his stream rn

gonna try to lurk but also I wanna thank him 🥺

The Best Mod (Jax) today at 10:32

im already in lol

I’ll tell everyone you’re here :)

work work work today at 10:33

wait nOOO

You tab out over to youtube to where the stream has finally loaded, to see Mr. Golden Experience ASMR himself smiling.

“Oh, look, it seems our new favorite has joined us. Hello, Gore Gone Wild.” He smiles, sweet and serene at the camera and you feel your heart pound a little.

@/Gore_Gone_Wild

omg hiii!! My mod told me you gave me a little shout out, thank you so much :D

You try so hard to be normal. All the sudden, you’re the fan interacting with your fav. Your dinner goes ignored, soup and grilled cheese cooling as you focus your efforts on Golden Experience's stream.

“It was a donation from your mod that brought the topic up.” He laughs soft and sweet. When you look to the top donations of the stream, you can see Niko’s youtube (@onionthepaladin) at on the top of the banner, having donated $100.

@/Gore_Gone_Wild

omggg that’s… literally so sweet of him. And you!! I’m also a big fan of yours <3

That’s it, you have to kill Niko. You have to travel across the united states, kill your mod, and make sure he never pulls this shit again. You suddenly feel so embarrassed, so light and free.

“Don’t be too rough with him.” Another sweet smile reaches him. God, he’s literally so pretty and perfect. Like, the opposite of you really. How could someone so put together like anything about you…? Oh yeah, you were hiding behind a screen. That’s why. Super easy to keep up the charade… “Truth be told, I’ve been your fan for a while. I was also excited to see what you would do for 1000 followers.” You smile wide as his chat echos his excitement.

@/Gore_Gone_Wild

welll… since its you… I guess I can let you in on my secret :) but only you! Not even my followers know yet so… I’ll dm you :3c

You feel so giddy when you see his eyes widen, see his smile widen a hair.

“Well, I look forward to seeing it.” He chuckles again, and returns to the conversation from before your arrival. His stream is nice noise to eat your now cold dinner to, as your heart hammers a bit when hitting up his dms on twitter. You send him a cute little message, telling him your plans: how you wanted to do your first live stream, reveal your place, and just chill with your followers, playing some games and taking read requests for him. But if he had suggestions, or tips for live streams, you would love to hear them.

You hear a buzz on stream, and watch as Golden Experience picks up his phone. “Looks like miss Gore just dmed me.” He smiles as his eyes scan your text. “I don’t want to seem desperate chat, should I wait to respond?” You watch as chat moves a little faster, some people spamming “simp”, others saying “she’s still here lol”. A few people leave actual advice, to which he reads a few aloud.

“Hmm, you’re right, shouldn’t leave a lady waiting.” He winks at his face cam and you nearly die. You’re gonna have to watch something else, now. Quickly leaving his stream, you take a moment to simply breath at your sub feed, heart pounding fast. You hadn’t been this excited in forever… Guess now it was time to tell your followers for real what what happening.

It’s actually your weekend, you have the next three days off… So with that in mind you go about telling everyone your plans. Your mods (Jax, Nico, and Sammy, whose probably already sleeping), already know, but after Golden Experience, you tell your discord your plans to host the live stream in the next two days.

Then, take a teasing little picture of your setup, with just a little plushie sitting next to your screen. “Excited to see you all this friday :3 Here’s to 1000!” is all the post itself says, but you make a live stream reminder on your page just so everyone knows what happening. You’re so excited you refresh all the pages, seeing at the night owls commenting on your posts with excitement. Now, you aren’t surprised to see a familiar name among them.

First comment on your youtube belongs to you newest member, @metal_metalica5, with another kind of ominous, but not quite out of line comment that simply reads “I know you’re perfect already, bella.” Second comment belongs to Golden Experience himself, commenting from his own account that says “Look forward to seeing you! I’m happy to see you’ve grown so much”.

You tear yourself away from your phone screen, and have to close your computer not to end up just replying to comments on that. You steel yourself to take your dishes to the sink, and actually wash them, too excited by the nights events to even realize that you were. You’re even too excited to review your writing, or record it for that matter, so in the end you end up pacing around in your nerves.

Pacing only wears you down so much, so you decide to lay down with your phone pulled close to your face. Curiosity gets the better of you as you look to the comments again. You click on the profile of @metal_metalica5, curious to see if he has anything on there. He hasn’t posted anything to youtube, nor has he created any playlists for that matter. With the pure black icon, it seems like he doesn’t want anyone to really notice or see him.

You recall he joined your discord as well, and open that up (to tell everyone goodnight, you convince yourself), only to find yourself scrolling through your members to find him offline, with the same blank icon and user name. He has no server profile, no custom status, no banner nor nitro. But… interestingly, it says he joined discord today: member since April 3 rd , 2024, joined April 3 rd , 2024. He must have created discord just to join your server. Perhaps even, he created a youtube account just to comment on your stuff. The idea has you smiling. That someone liked what you created so much, they had to subscribe. Wanted to be closer to you. Were interested in getting to know you beyond what you posted…

Soon, you grow too tired to keep your phone up. Your eyes slowly close, phone cuddled to your chest. Tonight, you sleep tight, content and happy with your online life. When you woke up, it would be the same, gray world as the one you woke to today, but it would be different, better-- because there was something to look forward to. Something, if even for just a little while, to stave off the monotony and sadness and jealousy. For a little while, you could be Gore_Gone_Wild, and everyone will adore you.

Oh, and you'll have to read that DM Golden Experience sent you too! You got so excited you nearly forgot you messaged him.

[paxdracona]

hey pax I’m gonna need immediate context for your cemetery job please I’m deeply deeply curious

♡♡♡ I'm always happy to talk about my job!!

I'll put a readmore because tl;dr ;)

So nine years ago I applied as a volunteer to help maintain the cemetery. I was also desperately jobhunting, and as a happy coincidence, my volunteerjob had had MAJOR issues getting volunteers that a) were invested b) didn't flake and c) even applied (I was the only one that applied to their advert).

They were happy with me so they were also kinda nervous that I kept applying to hobs because then I'd probably have to quit being a volunteer. Their solution was 'hey, you like working here, right, and you need a job? Why don't you come work for us?' So I was offered a job doing stuff I was already doing for free and I jumped on that so fast. That was 9 years ago last September 1st!

What do I do? It's a Catholic cemetery, and I have 1 colleague I work directly with, and 1 who does the office (im now also trained to take over office work when colleague goes on holiday).

Day to day we're usually working with the greenery. Groundskeeper stuff like mowing the grass, weeding, watering, planting, pruning, you name it. When we have a funeral, it's either in a pre-existing family grave (room for 3), or a new spot I have to pick out with the family.

We assist with the digging (driving a tractor with a hydraulic tipping cart behind it, we collect the sand in there and park it in the back till we're ready to close the grave back up). We do some heavy lifting to make sure the grave is safe from collapse.

Day of the burial I swap my muddy worker's clothes for formalwear and act as the hostess when the family + casket arrive. Together with the priest I lead the procession to the gravesite and lower the casket if the family wants that.

Afterwards I do the magic trick again and change back into rough and tumble clothes to close the grave. It usually takes about an hour to 2 hours to add all the sand back in, take out the temporary anti-collapse stuff and tidy up topside of the grave afterwards.

Other things I do is talk with people who have loved ones on our cemetery, often they just need to air out their grief and reminisce about them. I help locate graves for people who are looking for someone, and lend a helping hand to people tidying the graves under their care.

Occasionally I also have to exhume bodies for either re-burial, cremation or just because the period of renting has expired and the grave is re-issued to someone else.

So yeah, it's a very dynamic job with lots of greenery interspersed with funeral proceedings and I genuinely love it. I had trouble with the physical aspects in the beginning (mainly endurance and strength) but almost 10 years later I actually have far less bodily errors than when i started :D

[yourfavepookiebear]

I just realized something. I'm not good at anything.

I'm not good at learning. I'm not good at teaching. I'm not good at concentrating. I'm not good at listening. I'm not good at working. I'm not good at pe. I'm not good at horseriding. I'm not good at rock climbing. I'm not good at hiking. I'm not good at running. Im not good at basketball. I'm not good at volleyball. I'm not good at football. I'm not good at roller skating. I'm not good at ice skating. I'm not good at maths. I'm not good at physics. I'm not good at chemistry. I'm not good at computer. I'm not good at biology. I'm not good at technology. I'm not good at researching. I'm not good at writing. I'm not good at cooking. I'm not good at speaking. I'm not good at remembering. I'm not good at comforting. I'm not good at being kind. I'm not good at being myself. I'm not good at being pretty. I'm not good at being funny. I'm not good at acting. I'm not good at singing. I'm not good at voice-acting. I'm not good at French. I'm not good at Spanish. I'm not good at Arabic. I'm not good at German. I'm not good at Persian. I'm not good at advising. I'm not good at analyzing. I'm not good at statistics. I'm not good at negotiating. I'm not good at convincing. I'm not good at eating. I'm not good at observing. I'm not good at creating. I'm not good at being creative. I'm not good at helping. I'm not good at respecting. I'm not good at dancing. I'm not good at..

I'm not good at anything. There's maybe two or three things I'm relatively good at : daydreaming, cleaning, and thinking. Heck maybe even at spouting bullshit and random nonsense in the middle of class.

Mom was right, I'm actually not good at anything. I always hated her for saying that but ig she was right. How will i even find a way to support myself when i grow up ? At this rate, even working as a Walmart cashier is too hard for me.

How will I find a job ?

Mom says I have to be a doctor but I doubt I'd even get accepted into a university, much less a med school.

Lawyer ? Impossible, I wouldn't get accepted and I'm bad at arguing, plus I'm mostly a pacifist.

Writer ? I have bad imagination and on top of that I'm lazy and bad at writing.

Singer ? I'm bad at singing and I don't have the looks.

Actress ? Im bad at acting.

Voice-actress ? Nope

Office worker ? I can only concentrate for 30 minutes maximum

Therapist ? I'm the one who needs therapy.

Police officer ? Nope, not a chance. Not only do I hate that, but I'm also pretty weak so it's not even an option.

Philosopher ? I'm good at overthinking but Philosophy courses need a lot of complicated math.

Mathematician ? I'm horrible at math.

Translator ? Maybe, if it was my last choice.

Soldier ? I used to want to be one, but I'm weak both physically and mentally and emotionally and psychologically.

Dancer ? Low stamina, I get tired easily and I'm bad at dancing.

Scientist ? It's super interesting to me but science is not my forté.

Carpenter ? Nope just no.

Maid ? Maybe, but the pay is horrible..

Waitress ? My voice cracks, I'm clumsy, and I struggle to keep my balance.

Rock climber ? Nope. My hands and feet are always super sweaty and cold asf. I really sweat a LOT, even if the weather is cold.

Hostess ? Idk man, doesn't sound too good

Flight attendant ? I really like that job and I think I would be good at it but then again I'm scared of heights and I'm not strong so I wouldn't be able to help a passenger eith their luggage.

Pilot ? Scared of heights.

Chef ? Cooking is just not my thing, I'm bad at it and I often get impatient while cooking, and I get my hands dirty easily.

Model ? I'm not tall enough. Plus i doubt I'm skinny enough bc to become a model you have to be as thin as a stick and as tall as a tree.

Assassin ? Nope, nope, just nope

Hitman ? // (^)

Spy ? I would probably trip on something or laugh and expose myself.

Bus driver ? I can't even ride a scooter/bicycle, what makes this an option..

Uber driver ? No, I'd rather avoid anything consisting of driving a vehicle, whether it's a car or a motorcycle..

Fuck hopefully if I get really really super duper lucky maybe I'll find a rich guy i could marry.

[ketso]

Episode 2

Yoh, I'm getting closer and closer to giving birth to this child. It's actually depressing me because I have no idea what I'm going to do with this child when he is born.

Let me not be rude. I haven't even introduced myself and I'm about to pour out all my issues on you. Trust me, I have a lot of them.

My name is Basetsana Mofokeng. I know Wandi because we live in the same place. We have both rented back rooms in a Soweto township. These rooms are spacious and affordable. We all have our own bathrooms. Our rooms are big enough for a two-plate stove. But Wandi loves cooking in her high-heel shoes. And she's the only self-employed person in this yard. So, she actually has no problem coming back from work and cooking in the main house for everyone. We all buy communal food that stays in the main house so she can cook for us. She cooks really well. But with her priest boyfriend sometimes, she isn't around. And that's when we must all sort ourselves out. She's decent enough to let us know in the commune WhatsApp group that she won't be cooking for us on that particular day. With me, she tries to cook for me every day. If she isn't cooking, she brings me takeaways.

Wait till I tell you why.

We got close and I shared my story with her. So, we've become friends of some sort. I even go to that church of hers with her.

I had a close friend when I was growing up. His name was Keith. We all grew up together in Sebokeng. We always looked out for each other. Yeah, we shared kisses here and there because we did find each other attractive, but when we had to choose between being friends and possibly losing each other to the rough conditions of mjolo, we chose friendship. I believed that we loved each other. Well, I loved him. But I guess I was wrong about the extent of his love for me.

After Keith matriculated, he found a job in the city (Johannesburg) and lived there. But he would come home and see his parents, so our friendship kept soldiering on. He was an only child, so when he left, I ended up going to check in on his mother a lot.

I then went to university and again, Keith would come home to visit his family. Then he would come to the university to see me. He'd sleep on the couch in my res room - yes, I'd have to sneak him in - then I sleep on the bed. Keith is Tsonga. And I do have a weakness for Tsonga men. But Keith was my friend. My very good friend. And I respected him and our friendship a lot.

I started working as a bus hostess as soon as I were done with my tourism degree. I studied tourism because it was the only degree that my mother could afford to pay for. I earned enough to keep myself and my family fed. I lived at home for some time before I met Thebe - the owner of this house and the outside rooms - then came to live here.

I could feel Keith drifting away when I got to live here in Soweto. It was as if he didn't want me here. He treated me like I'm not part of his life here. I belong back home in Sebokeng Small Farms, not here in Soweto or Joburg.

When I met his then girlfriend and now wife, Noria, I understand why. Noria was extremely jealous, and she hated anything feminine around Keith. She is a mixed-race lady from Reggae Park and she had a bit of a "steerkom" dangerous streak about her.

I kept my distance too. I wasn't even invited to their wedding and that really broke my heart.

Until...

A few months ago when Keith and Noria approached me. They told me that Noria was not producing eggs and that she couldn't carry a baby to full term. And they wanted a baby. So, they asked me to not only donate an egg, but to carry the baby too... like a surrogate.

I was hesitant at first. I mean Noria doesn't even like me. But she wants me to carry a child for her and Keith - a child that will biologically be mine and Keith's. That made no sense to me at all.

But Keith wanted a baby. And I loved him enough to go through with this crazy idea.

Today, I find myself eight months pregnant. Noria got her lawyers to phone me and tell me that the deal was off. They no longer wanted the baby and I was then told that Keith will no longer be speaking to me ever again. I've been blocked on all his platforms and have no way of contacting him. I was then given ten million rands to never come back and claim that Noria and Keith have to look after this child. I was six months pregnant when they told me this.

I've cried.

I've gone home and cried.

I've told Keith's mother.

I've told my mother.

My mother even stopped speaking to Keith's mother... rallied the township and they called the Nkuna family trash! But I'm here and I need to make a plan with this child.

I even got retrenched from work, so after this, I need to make a plan. Wandi said she'd hire me in her business until I have a plan. So, I'm grateful because what will I do unemployed and with a child?

"Bassie?! Are you awake?" I hear someone say.

It's Sipho.

He has always had the biggest crush on me. It's actually weird. He also lives here with us in one of the rooms in Thebe’s yard.

There are about twelve people that have hired rooms here. Two people are here with wives and children. I also don't know how because it's a one room. But they make it work. We all do.

"Bassie?" Sipho.

"Ngiyeza." I say.

I waddle to the door.

Fortunately, I'm done showering. I'm even dressed up in my dress and am wearing slippers.

I open the door for him. I'm too lazy to open the security gate, so I give him the key to open it himself.

"Fede?" Sipho.

"Hi Sipho".

"Ugrand mntwana?" Him.

Also, he's quite...

How do I put it???

Ghetto.

He is wearing Converse sneakers, shorts, some t-shirt and a spottie.

He works in the mines. He must be off today.

I sit on the couch that's in here.

He walks in with food, puts it on the coffee table, then he brings in four boxes of stuff.

"And then?" I ask him.

"No phela mina ngithenge izinto for ubaby boy wethu." He says.

I haven't even thought about what I'm going to do with this child after I've pushed it out of me. And I know I have to snap out of it and make a plan because okusalayo the baby is mine. But this is sweet. And I'm actually laughing already. That's another thing about Sipho. He makes me laugh a lot.

"So lena, bathi it's a Bugaboo stroller. Yinhle neh?" He says as he opens it. It's so beautiful, man.

"Isn't that expensive?" I ask him.

"Everything nice for ubaby boy wethu." He says.

I just laugh.

"This one is the cot eyihamba nayo. It's a set yabo. Khona the part that attaches to the side of the bed ukuthi when we sleep, alale nathi ubaby boy. And then, khona le alala kuyo one man." He explains as he unwraps all these things.

Honestly, if he's trying to get me excited about this baby, it's working. He's actually so sweet. I take him for granted a lot. I don't even know why. Because he is good looking.

He's just...

Ghetto.

"And then this one eyami neyakhe. When we give you a break yabo, I put him in here. Bathi it's a kangaroo what what. Then I can walk naye everywhere. Plus, we don't have a car yet. So, we need a strong stroller and a good baby carrier. Nazi, we are sorted."

I just laugh.

This is all so nice.

"And this is a present for mami. Bathi it's a stylish baby bag that also passes as a handbag. It has baby compartments and compartments for mommy's things", he says, giving me a bag.

I'm actually so charmed.

He irritates me on an average day, but today, I'm charmed.

"Ngiyabonga Sipho. This is so beautiful." I say. I'm actually getting emotional.

"Ja man, eish. It's just... you were so done. You've been down for some time now and angithandi. When Wandi told me what happened, I wanted to kill leya bhari jo. But it's fine, he can fuck off. Mina nawe, we will make a plan. Together. Siyahlupheka. Sihlala ku-backroom. But God usiphe isipho esigrand blind. He knows his plans for us and all that stuff."

I just laugh.

He smiles at me.

"Idla nami ke." I say.

"Ey san, baby girl. Ngispana overtime vandag. Angisho manje I'm saving for ubaby boy. So, mina I brought you food ukuthi imama ibegrand. Ngizokubona when I knock off yeva? I'll massage your feet and watch a movie with you." He says.

"Ngiyabonga Sipho. Kakhulu."

He kisses my cheek.

For the first time in history, I let him. And he's so happy.

"Shup neh", him.

"Shup."

Then he leaves my room. He's in his room for a few moments, then I see him walk out with a lunchbag and a backpack.

I see Wandi drive in with her Polo. Both she and her young and fabulous mother get out of the car. I'm watching some useless show on TV.

"Hey babe", she greets me.

"Hey Wandi. Sawubona mah", me.

"Kunjani ngane yami? You are looking more and more beautiful. Pregnancy really suits you", Wandi's mom says.

"Ngiyabonga mah," I say.

"We brought you lunch. Come join us", Wandi invites me.

I hadn't even eaten the food that Sipho had brought for me. And to be honest, when he buys me food, I get excited because he is aligned with my cravings.

But let me not be rude.

I make my way to Wandi's room.

My stomach makes me super slow.

"Hlala phansi sisi, Wandi and I will dish up", Wandi's mom says.

I just smile and sit down.

"Have you booked a bed yet?" Wandi asks me.

"No. I don't even know how it works at a public hospital." I say. I don't have medical aid. Keith and his wife were paying for the delivery of this child.

"I spoke to my dad. His colleague will deliver the baby for you. He said you should go see him so that they can schedule a c-section if need be", Wandi says.

"Ngiyabonga Wandi. Truly. For everything." I say.

"You don't deserve what Keith did to you. None of us think you deserve it", she says.

"USipho yena has adopted my child already. He even bought me a stroller and a cot." I say.

Wandi and I look at each other.

Then we burst into laughter!

"He sounds like a nice boy", Wandi's mom says.

"He is a nice boy shame. But he's always liked Bassie. For him, he is seizing one hell of an opportunity", Wandi explains as we laugh.

After we laugh and as we start eating, I begin...

"Keith's mother asked me to take the baby to her after its born. She's even talking to my mom about ukuyihlawula le ngane".

Wandi looks at me.

"And how do you feel about that?" Her mom asks me.

"I don't know, mah. I don't know what to do. Yaz uKeith and Noria have just turned my life upside down nje. I don't even know how to begin to pick up the pieces of what used to be my life. I'm so hurt. I can see why Noria did this. But Keith?"

"Noria is his wife, babe. Maybe he did it to make her happy." Wandi says.

"They made me sign a contract that I wouldn't have any claims or rights over this child. And I got used to that for the first six months of the pregnancy. Now they changed their minds. So they can breach the contact and I can't. What are my rights in all of this?" I'm actually angry. I'm pissed.

Wandi just hugs me.

"At least ukhona uSipho", Wandi's mom says and we just laugh.

...

I'm in my car. I'm parked at the corner of the street of where she lives. I see her walking with Wandi - her friend. They usually take a walk together around this time and they walk around the township. I watch them - her specifically. The mother of my son. She's so beautiful. She carries my son so beautifully. I asked my mom to ask her family if the baby could be given to my mother after it's born. I'll help my mom raise it. I don't want anything happening to my child. I want him raised properly. I'd even consider just going to my dad's house in Giyani and raising him there.

I know that Bassie will never forgive me for what Ria and I did. I know. But we have to find a way to raise this child together. I know I've hurt her. I just know. But I've hurt Noria even more. I owe her to not have a baby with Bassie.

Ria and I tried for two years to have a child. We've gone to different doctors and different fertility clinics. When we decided that we would ask Bassie to do this for us, we had deliberated and thoroughly talked it through. It wasn't easy for her to say yes to this. But having a child means everything to me. And she was prepared to give me what I wanted more than anything in the world.

When Bassie got pregnant, she struggled a bit in the beginning stages of the pregnancy. So she needed me. I know she didn't have a boyfriend or someone she was living with. So I'd spend time with her to take care of her. We never kissed. We never fucked. None of it. I was genuinely just helping her out. This was our baby and she was doing us a huge favour.

Ria was not having it. We would fight every single day that I'd come home. Then one day, I caught her going through my phone and she saw a text I sent to Bassie: "You are looking gorgeous. My baby is doing you some favours and then some".

She assumed that I had caught feelings for her. Maybe I had.

But, I sent her that text because she was going through a phase where she was feeling extremely insecure. I had made it my mission to make her feel beautiful. And I do believe that she is beautiful. But Ria didn't see it that way.

She told me if I didn't cut all ties with Bassie, she'd divorce me. She told me that I was punishing her for not being able to have kids. So...

We are here today.

I'm trying to save my marriage and I'm trying to have access to my child. I haven't spoken to Bassie in two months.

My cellphone rings.

I look at it.

It's Ria.

I decide not to answer it.

I just lie back on my chair and start crying. This is my routine. I come here. I watch my child grow inside of Bassie, then I cry as I ignore my wife's phone calls.

It starts getting dark.

So, I know it's time to go home.

I drive off and make my way to Hyde Park where I live with Ria.

As I drive in, I notice that her Porsche is parked in the garage. She's home. I can't even get drunk and pretend to be sleeping before she gets home.

"Hey babe", she greets me.

She's happy today.

I smile at her and say, "Hey".

"I made us dinner. I thought that we needed it after the past couple of months that we've been through. We've been through a lot, you know." She says.

"Yeah. We have. So has Bassie. I mean she now has to make a plan with a baby she hadn't planned for. That must be really hard for her." I say.

"Yeah well, we also gave her ten million rands to find ten million ways to make a plan. That money will look after her and that child until it's at least five. After that, she should have come up with a plan." She says.

"Are you not hurt? Like at all? I mean we planned for this baby for years. It's not like we just woke up one day and did this. And in the space of two months, you've forgotten all about it?"

"Well, you went and fell in love with our surrogate!" She snaps at me.

"She had a difficult pregnancy. I was just there for her. She was doing us a favour. I did not fall in love with her."

"Well maybe she should have lost that baby!"

"How could you say that?"

We look at each other.

She's getting angry now.

"I regret it, Keith. I regret asking her for her egg and using her as a surrogate. We should've used one of our helpers. Maybe that's what we should do. It's not too late." She says.

"The baby that Bassie is carrying is of my sperm. I'm still its father." I say.

She slaps me across the face then says, "Are you begging me for a divorce right now, you son of a bitch?"

"No. I'd never wish to divorce you. But I'm beginning to feel like I shouldn't be choosing you over my son", I say.

Yerrr!

Her entire aura changes!

I instantly leave the house because I know... I just know that the next step is for her to start throwing things at me and hurting me with that whip she bought and uses to discipline me when she doesn't get her way.

I'm driving to the office. I might as well just put in hours at work.

I arrive here and I find that my PA is still here.

I just greet her and get into my office.

I undo my tie and sit on one of the couches in my office. I go onto Wandi_Buthelezi's Instagram. Bassie doesn't have an Instagram account, but she and Wandi are friends. I catch up with Bassie through Wandi's account.

I see pictures of them at Bassie's baby shower. Wandi threw a baby shower for her.

I see some scans that Wandi posted of the baby. I smile at them.

Then I see that Wandi_Buthelezi is live.

I watch the live.

She's at a hospital.

"Hi guys. I just wanted to let you all know that a psychotic bitch just showed up where we stay and beat my friend up because apparently her husband is in love with her. Let me tell you the real story here because honestly, there has to be accountability for loose screwed insecure wives on this planet. This bitch and her husband asked my friend to be a surrogate for them and to donate an egg so they could have a baby. Six months into the pregnancy, they decide that they don't want the baby anymore and my friend now has to become a single mother unplanned. This woman now comes here and beats up my friend! She's at the hospital and we don't know yet if she and the baby are okay. But I'm doing this live because Noria Nkuna doesn't get to be anonymous. She's the psychotic wife! Her name is Noria Nkuna and I beg that the police arrest her and make sure that my friend gets the justice she deserves. She was never her husband's side chick. She's never even touched that man before. How dare she! How dare she!"

I'm already on my feet and am running to the car. I'm keeping the live going because I'm hoping that she will say which hospital they are in. I use my other phone to call the police. I actually lay charges myself. My son is not safe while Noria is roaming these streets.

When I'm done speaking to the police, I phone Wandi via Instagram. She doesn't even pick up. Okay, it has to be a hospital in the south. They wouldn't go far. So I go on Google and start phoning hospitals.

Please let my son be okay.

Lord, please let my son be okay.

[sheloooveswomen]

only 6 more days - tammy x reader

masterlist

summary: pure fluff. lovey dovey long distance phone call with tam tam because you miss each other while she’s away on a heist.

includes: tammy x fem!reader, thoughts are italicized, POV switches a lot from you to tammy, the rest of the crew of course.

warnings: none.

inspired by Safe in Her Arms Audio’s audio on youtube

4,336 words.

{ kitchen/bedroom/dining and living room from yours and tammy's house, tammy's bed/bathroom at Lou's warehouse (pretend it's night time tho obvi) }

TAMMY POV//

(altered conversation from the movie)

"They're here!" I shout running past Y/n into the dining room, "Coming!" I finish setting up the table before opening the door.

The blonde greets me first, "We brought vodka." I look to the bottles she has in each hand.

"I see that but most people say hello, Lou." I let them both in.

Y/n comes out, receiving the same greeting from Lou, before laughing and hugging my two friends, "Thank you! It's nice to finally meet you guys." she glances at the bottle label.

"Don't worry, it's not watered down. We brought the food stuff and bubbly." Debbie holds up the bottle in her hands.

"Well thanks, I'll go put this up for later." my girl replies with a kind smile.

"And I’ll put this on ice." I quickly go back to chat with my friends, "So how have y—"

"We've got a job." Lou states.

I sigh, "I am focusing on my family right now, I told you—"

"We got it all planned out." this time Debbie cuts me off.

"What? Do you want to go back to jail?" I whisper yell.

"Cmon, Tammy, you know we won't get caught! What do you think we are, a bunch of pussies?" Lou laughs.

"We saw the garage" Deb wiggles her eyebrows, "thought you retired?"

"I did." I cross my arms.

"Not as exciting as hijacking trucks that are smuggling dishwashers to Canada, huh?" Debbie smirks.

"Yeah, well, I don't do that anymore... so." I shrug.

"But you were so very good at it" she continues.

"Thank you." I avoid eye contact.

"So... what? Is everything in there is for personal use?" Lou asks.

"What do you want? I thought you were coming for a nice welcome back dinner."

Debbie shrugs, "We just wanna reconnect."

"Reconnect?" I repeat, unconvinced.

"Mhm." Debbie glances at Lou.

Lou agrees, “Yeah.”

"Reconnect." I narrow my eyes at her.

"Mhm, you're not bored out here are ya Tam Tam?" Debbie steps towards me.

"No? No. I'm not bored."

"Good."

"Why... would you ask that." my calves hit the couch and I sit down.

"Well, we need a fence." Deb sits on the chair across from me.

"Well, I told you I don't do that anymore. I'm out." I try to sit tall.

"It's a big job." Lou adds, snooping around the room.

I cut my eyes at her, "I don't care."

"Do you want me to tell you how big the job is?" Debbie draws my attention again.

"Wha- no. I really don't."

Deb smiles at an equally amused Lou, "I think I'm gonna tell her how big the job is." she looks towards the kitchen to make sure Y/n can't hear before whispering to me.

My jaw drops, "Are you kidding?"

"No." Deb and Lou smile.

"Dinners almost done! Sorry for the wait." Y/n calls out.

“No worries!” Lou replies.

"Thank you, sweetheart!" I call back still thinking about the money, "Thanks a lot." I whisper-yell to Debbie.

"She's real sweet" Deb smiles, "how do you explain all that crap to her?" she nods towards the garage.

"Y/n knows what I've done."

"And she stuck around?" Lou questions, sitting on the arm of Debbie’s chair.

"Girls love a criminal" Deb smiles up at her girlfriend.

"Yeah..." Lou grins.

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah—"

"Can you guys not" I interrupt.

They both blush slightly before Debbie speaks, "So is that a yes?"

I run the outcomes through my head, "The kids will be fine. I'll tell them and their father I'm on a work trip. It depends on Y/n, it's hard enough when we're apart for my actual work as it is."

They laugh, but are kept from responding as my girl comes in with the food.

______________

Y/N POV// 

(mini recap from your POV)

The kids are at their dad's house which means Tammy has me playing hostess for her friends tonight.

Deb and Lou arrived a little late, no complaints, bearing gifts in the form of alcohol, negative amount of complaints.

"You alright, sweetie?" Tammy kisses the side of my head, and places the vodka down while I check the food.

"I'm great, babe. Go entertain. I know it's been a while since you've seen them" I smile, giving her a peck as I finish up.

After a while I notice they've gone quiet so I let them know dinner is almost ready.

They abruptly stop talking when I come in with the food.

Lou rubs her hands together then pulls out Debbie's chair, "Looks amazing."

They all share a look before sitting down.

__________________

TAMMY POV//

(( time skip / after dinner ))

Once they've left I go into the kitchen to see Y/n drying the dishes.

"How long is the job?" she asks without turning around.

My eyes widen, "I- How'd you know?"

"Intuition" she shrugs.

"Oh..." I smilie weakly even though she's not looking at me.

"That and the suspicious whispering mixed with their weird looks trying to figure out whether or not to bring it up in front of me."

"Oh" I force a laugh, scratching the back of my neck.

She dries her hands and turns to look at me, "How long?"

"About two months." I reply quietly, moving to help clean.

"What about the kids?"

"They can carry on with their normal schedule if that's alright with you, I'll just have to talk to their dad."

She nods, so I continue.

"We didn't discuss many of the details but we have to figure some other stuff beforehand. So we need to have a cushion of time before the event."

"Where?"

"Main job is in New York"

She nods again with her eyes trained on the floor, breaking my heart when her bottom lip pokes out a bit.

"I know, baby." I move to stand in front of her, rubbing up and down the side of her arms.

She leans her head on my shoulder, inhaling my perfume while I kiss her head repeatedly.

"I'll be back before you know it, I promise." I whisper.

"When do you leave?"

"A week."

"Right....okay.....this isn't like your usual stuff, Tammy. I don't know what I'd do if you got arrested. Jesus- two months?"

"I know baby, I know." she wraps her arms around my waist, her head fitting perfectly in the crook of my neck, "It'll go by quick, sweetheart, and I'll call you every—"

"Promise?" she leans back to meet my eyes.

I smile, "I cross my heart."

She pokes my chest, "You better not get caught" with a swift kiss, she heads upstairs for the night.

Laughing, I follow her to get ready for bed.

(( fast forward a little under 2 months ))

TAMMY POV//

mine 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩: hi hi hi <3

me: hello beautiful !!

mine 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩: I just got home so i'm gonna shower and i'll call you when i'm done if that works for you???

me: perfect!!! we're in for the night so whenever you're done is fine <3 _______________

So I just checked my phone for the hundredth time during the movie to see if she's done showering yet.

"Guys I think Tammy's whipped" Nine Ball laughs, eating her chips.

"You think?" Debbie laughs, "You should've seen her when we first told her."

Lou jumps in, mocking our conversation, "I'd love to, but it depends on Y/n. It's so hard when we're apart."

I glare at Lou, "Your girlfriend is with you, so you can't talk."

"She's got you there babe" Debbie pats Lou's back, "You are checking your phone like it's a bomb though, Tam Tam, but I get it." she adds sitting on Lou's lap.

Lou scoffs, "I get it, too! I may be taken but I do have eyes and Y/n is—" Deb smacks her on the back of her head.

I narrow my eyes at her, "Watch it—" I look to my phone seeing a picture of me and my girl light up the screen with a text asking if I can talk now.

I reply Absolutely and pick up when the call comes in, "Hold on a second, honey." that’s when a chorus of teasing begins.

Amita mimics me, “Honey!”

Daphne and Rose make loud kissy noises.

“Whipped.” Nine Ball repeats, eyes on her computer.

Constance winds her arm back and flicks her wrist like Indiana Jones with a “Whop-SHhhh” 

I flip them all off as I leave the room _______________

Y/N POV//

"Hi gorgeous!" 

"Hey, what happened there? You alright?" I ask, smiling at the sound of her voice.

Tammy lowers her voice, "I'm fine. We were in the other room watching tv so I'm just keeping my voice down. I don't want to be interruptive nor do I want to be eavesdropped on, so it'll just be a delightful asmr-ish conversation tonight. I hope you don't mind?" she laughs through her nose.

"Not at all baby, it's sexy when you whisper." I whisper back.

"Yeah? You don't sound so bad yourself" smirk evident in her voice, "you don't have to whisper though, sweetie, you can speak as loud as you want because I have the volume down so only I need to whisper. And I know it's like a natural human instinct to mirror the person—"

"Tam?"

"Yeah honey?"

"As much as I love this, why don't you just go to your room instead of the one right next to them? That way you can talk properly and I can see that face of yours."

Her voice returns to a normal volume, "...Why didn't I think of that... I might as well get ready for bed then, too."

We laugh as she climbs the stairs, slight blush on her cheeks as the facetime goes through.

"There's my girl" she smiles, now making me blush.

"I miss you!" I move to lay on my side as she sets the phone up in the bathroom, getting ready to take off her make up.

"I miss you more, my love! Don't get me wrong certain nights are fine, and I don't want you to worry about me. But obviously I think its- its only human nature that certain nights are tougher than others. That and I'm just really spoiled to usually have you daily!" she laughs.

I smile, just glad to hear and see her again.

"OH! So Constance was 'hyped', as she put it, to meet me. And I was 'hype' to meet her- and I was just so tired because I did not sleep at all, but when we went out she really just wanted to take pictures of everything—" she throws her head back as she laughs at whatever memory is playing in her head, “I had to remind her to only take pictures of things that can’t be used as evidence, obviously.”

"Can you send 'em Tam?"

She tosses the make up wipes, "Sure, hold on...also she knows I miss you so she wanted to give me something to share."

"That's when I went in for my undercover job"

"And when we were scoping out the venue. After two I was like 'hey that's enough'. But nope...there should be more coming."

"That last one was just before you called. But earlier this week she wanted to say 'hey look we are finally all together'" she continues to laugh.

I chuckle as the pictures come in.

"It was like 5:30 in the afternoon and after taking a few of me again, she handed the phone to a stranger and asked them to take some."

"No!" I laugh.

Her head pops back into frame, face wash on her cheeks, "Yes! She told us 'look tough' but we were all so exhausted. I still think they're cute, but I was just so tired, and my eyelids were horribly droopy. But they're still cute though" she smiles, "right?"

"Only you could look this good while being absolutely exhausted" I reply zooming in on the photos.

"Liar, but she's quite the photographer. Now you can put faces to the names. OH! One more...hold on, I know you'll like this one..."

"Hot damn." I bring the phone closer to my face.

Tammy laughs, drying her face and hands.

"I....am- I- I am at a loss for words. You gorgeous fucking human being."

She props her phone on the dresser and hangs her head to hide her blush, "I thought you’d appreciate it." she takes out her pajamas.

Tammy starts to undress and I start to sing, "Cause mama I'm in love with a criminal. So I can assume everything went alright?"

She stops to think for a moment, "Yeah? Yeah. You know, baby, it's been a really long time since I've done something like this but Debbie's not worried so that's a good sign. We just have to close some loose ends before we head home. So consider those a long distance gift." putting her dirty clothes in the laundry.

"How have you been doing otherwise, my love?" I ask.

"Ummmm" she pauses to put her shirt on (well actually it's mine), "I've been keeping busy but nights can be tricky. Really tricky but I'll tell you one thing, mornings? Mornings right now are the worst!"

"Why?" I smile as she throws her hair up in a ponytail.

"I'll be straight with you on that one, baby, because at least at night I can kinda, you know, I can distract myself to sleep." she puts her sweatpants on and climbs into bed. "I can think about the kids, or the good things that have happened otherwise during the day, or I've just gotten off the phone with you. I can just sort of entertain myself into dream world. Fantasize about, you know, anything I want in order to get my mind off the fact that I just broke the law and you're not here with me and it can be okay. There's plenty- there's plenty of things to fall asleep to in the world that won't make you crazy."

I hum in agreement.

"But mornings? Mornings make me nuts without you" she sighs, "just because...I don't- I ju- you and—"

"You must really hate them, you can't even talk about it."

She laughs at my teasing, "You and I both know that I'm not a morning person."

"You like being up but you don't like getting up" I confirm.

"Exactly! Ughhh, the best start to my day is waking up with you. Even when you're not trying I swear it just- to wake up next to you is just like a shot of endorphins. It is like sunshine in a bottle. I'm serious! I don't need coffee. I don't need anything. Just to look at you or to touch you...to kiss you..." she closes her eyes and smiles, "listen to you speak. Sometimes if you're feeling up to it you make me laugh...I can't think of a better way to start a day."

I roll onto my other side so its almost like she’s laying on her side of the bed, "You're making it really hard to be this far."

"I know baby" she grumbles, "but without you- that's honestly- well I have plenty of incentive and reason to get out of bed, I mean the quicker we do this the quicker I'm back home. Anyways, there's no reason to worry, if you were gonna worry though then that's where it's been really hard is mornings."

"I'm not gonna lie I have been sleeping on your side of the bed." I admit.

"Really? Ummm...how do I put this? Like a stalker I took some of your clothes, as I’m sure you noticed.” she holds the phone high above her head and gestures to her upper body, “I'll wear your sweatshirt to bed or I snuggle it like a teddy bear" she laughs, covering her reddening face with her hand.

"You are so cute." I smile.

She smiles back, "But I'm your stalker though....I don't know if it makes it sound better- it could sound better if I sold that delivery strongly? No, more softly" she starts to whisper, "I'm your stalker. Oh no! That sounds so much worse! I'm sorry, I take it back. I'm not- no I'm not your stalker. I just happen to love you a lot so I wear your sweater to sleep or I snuggle it." a yawn closes out her rambling.

There's a comfortable moment of silence as we look at each other through the screen. 

Just when I think she’s asleep she perks up. Her voice laced with exhaustion, "I think I'm kind of a you addict and so I just try to get my you hit even if it's just a watered down product of that sort- and this analogy is terrible— "

"Is this your sweet way of telling me that you've taken up drugs, Tam?" I ask.

"Very funny- speaking of terrible! Those cookies I told you I sent you: so I read online that sending baked goods was like a really great idea and that they would stay...preserved? But the more I think about it, baby, you can just toss em out. I think they're probably gonna arrive in a day or two."

"Why would I throw em out?" I ask.

"Oof, I don't know but it makes me nervous" she scrunches her nose, "I found this whole blog about this couple who has successfully done long distance for a very very long time because between the two of them and their jobs they're just constantly traveling. She has all these recommendations of things that work. In short, one of the things they've always loved to do for each other, because they love to cook together, is send each other baked goods or recipes of things they've recently learned to make. I thought it would be cute."

"That is cute, Tam!" I smile.

"But I'm worried about it now, just- just maybe gift one to a trash colleague first? If they survive then you can just proceed and if they don't...then just toss em."

"I'll keep that in mind"

"This is also what's happening to me without you, I'm getting a little dark." She giggles, "Um but I actually have been learning how to bake a little bit more. It's one of those things I used to do and then I just lost my sweet tooth. Probably around the time I met you actually. I lost my sweet tooth but it used to be bad, honey."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. All I ever wanted was sugar. Morning, noon, and night. If I had a choice? It was gonna be something sweet. Somehow that just changed and I just started craving savory foods more. So I just started cooking as opposed to baking. I remember baking was always really fun because it’s a really great gift for people that I love. You can fancify baked goods in a way that I'm not skilled enough in learning, but at least-” she looks past the phone, “No I'm just gonna head to bed!" she calls out.

"You're getting boring in old age, Tam Tam!" Debbie yells, probably on her way to bed.

"One: you’re older than me, two: we literally just committed a multi million dollar robbery! Am I not allowed to rest?!" she exclaims.

"Yeah yeah, tell your honey goodnight for us!" Lou adds.

Tammy turns back to the phone, "Why do I hang out with these people? They made me lose my train of thought..."

"You were talking about fancifying baked goods- I don't think that's a word, babe."

"Well we've made it one- OH! As I was saying: we can learn how to do anything, baby, but I have not yet learned how to fancify my cooking in the same way that I can pipe icing on a cake or cupcake or sprinkle colors through cookies and swirl em." her hand flails around in motions that match her words.

"Mmm, I know what you mean" I nod.

"Yeah, so I just feel like I know more artistic freedom in the world of baking, but I lost my incentive to bake when I lost my sweet tooth. So doing it again has been cathartic!"

"Im glad, baby." I smile at her excitement.

"Thank you, gorgeous. I’m gifting most of my baked goods more than I am keeping them for myself, though. It has still been therapeutic."

"I think any artistic expression especially during challenging times or lonely occasions is always gonna be healthy and helpful, Tam."

She hums in agreement, "Indeed, my love. It just comes with the territory of having someone to miss. So I'm not really mad at it."

"I'm glad"

"I am glad that you are glad. We know how good it is to be together and our bodies are gonna respond to that difference."

"I've been trying really really hard to manage and fill my time without you, here." I frown.

"Well I'll be back soon. I'm hoping to convince Debbie to let me work remote next time she needs my help. I know it's a bit far fetched but with the world being as globalized as it is now I'm hoping."

"You think you'll be able to do your part okay like that?"

"As far as location is concerned I'll always prefer home, but I don't think it would be an epic sacrifice for everyone. I'd just like to stay with my family and help them. Two birds with one stone, baby. Of course the only downside is you would see me get bent out of shape."

"My hot, mature, criminal fiancée getting all riled up...that does not sound like something I could sit and watch all day, at all. Not. At. All." I reply sarcastically.

She chuckles, a hand once again coming up to cover her blushing face, "Speaking of shape- you will soon have to see I am getting a little out of shape, and I know that doesn't faze you—"

"You are the finest woman I've ever seen I doubt that'll change." I shrug.

She smiles, "—but it fazes me because I just feel like- and I know you beg to differ on this so shush, but I just feel like you....how do I put this...your body confidence has yo-yoed like everybody else's but I just feel like you always look so good!"

"Lies!"

"Despite the way you feel about yourself I always think 'damn she is so beautiful'. Whether you're waking up in the morning or we're going to bed or you're just running errands. I always feel like you look stunning, and there's a piece of me that feels like 'this woman looks so good for me that I wanna look good for her' "

I shake my head, "You look stunning all the time Tam, you're insane and I completely disagree."

"Just because you disagree doesn't mean you're not doing a service for me. And I'd like to return the eye candy for you, too." she laughs.

"Eye candy?!” I sputter, “Baby have you seen you?"

"As I said: I'm a little embarrassed that I'm a little out of shape, so the next time you see me you need to be extra nice. Even if you have to lie. I'll let this one go." she smiles.

"I don't think I could ever not be attracted to you in every way possibly, my love."

"Yeah?" she asks.

"Of course baby, but I'm glad I can be of eye candy service." I roll my eyes.

"I know I've won the lottery when it comes to you. It is my pleasure to live the bittersweet symphony that is life with you."

"You made my milf dream come true" I laugh.

She grins, "Not to get dark here, again. I have wondered like 'oh my gosh if something horrible were to happen to you or if I were to lose you' that'd be it for dating."

"Tammy, men and women would flock to your front door for a chance."

"Nah, I'd rather settle for be single and relish in the fact that I had you. I don't want to make you uncomfy and put you on a pedestal, but I think it's important to acknowledge how compatible we are. I get you, baby. You get me. And I want you. And I love you. My protective instincts go crazy when I'm with you. Sure I miss you now, obviously, but I miss you when I go to the grocery store on occasion! We just firmly understand where we stand which is Mount Olympus, where we stand is— wait give me another great analogy- wait that's not an analogy—"

"You are so tired right now" I laugh.

"It is on the tip of my tongue- it's a metaphor! We've seen people go through the worst to make things work especially with distance. There's stress and mistrust- for them, but all we do is miss each other and that's that."

"I know what you mean. If it wasn't any clearer beforehand that is partially how I know for sure that I have my person. For some people distance is really the kiss of death." I shake my head.

She struggles to keep her eyes open, "Mhm, but the closer we get the harder it is to be away" she pouts, "And we can talk about anything! I can be myself with you and you like it!"

"I love it personally" I smile.

"See! I can tell you what we're up to, or if something that made me angry, or ask you about your work. Everything feels like quality time and quality discussion because I love your face and I love talking to you...I am so very enamored by you" she yawns, "and that's that."

“I think its time for bed”

“I think so also as well...”

I smile as she closes her eyes, "I love you Tammy"

"I love you, gorgeous.......I love the sound of your voice...I miss you..."

"I miss you more, baby..."

"Only six more days!" she adds.

"Six more days." I yawn as we both fall asleep.

[cherriesfineline]

Au Pair – Chapter I

It's finally here – I'm sorry this took so long, this past few weeks have been a mess but here it is, our first chapter for the Au Pair series; I kinda hate this, ngl- I always hate first chapters, a lot of introductory info and bla bla but yeah.

In the weird case you happen to enjoy this and want to be added into the taglist (starting next chapter) you can request it here.

Feedback, likes or reblogs are so, so appreciated! I'm very much new to the whole writing world so yeah it'd be really helpful to hear your thoughts about this <3

Love you all, have a wonderful week beauties!

Warnings: none specifically for this chapter – age gap.

WC: 6.6k

Masterlist

Y/N was tired, to say the least.

And it wasn’t the tiredness she used to feel after a long work shift at her previous job -where her boss was an old, grumpy lady with horrible manners- or the exhaustion felt after spending hours crying due to a fight with her mother. No, this was different. It was a tiredness she couldn’t get rid of; a tiredness no lavender smelling bath or hours upon hours of sleep could amend.

She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment her brain shifted in such a drastic way. Y/N could easily recognize and admit her life had never been an exciting one; a memorable one. Ever since she was a little girl it all seemed to fly by; graduations, birthdays, friendships – nothing ever seemed to leave an impact and nothing ever seemed as exciting as everyone else put it to be. She knew she struggled with allowing herself to enjoy things, but this far her life had been pretty average.

Maybe it was the fact that she was 22 years old and never been in a real relationship what skyrocketed her fear of dying alone. Now, she knew it might seem exaggerated – 22 years wasn’t a long life at all, but the pungent emptiness she’d been feeling felt like her inevitable destiny – like that’s how life was supposed to be for her.

England felt different, though. But in all honesty, her emotions hadn’t had switched into completely different ones like she’d expected to happen when she applied for this job as an Au Pair all the way back in February.

With a steaming hot cup of coffee between her cold hands, she sat down next to Coco (a very soft grey Scottish Fold) on the giant couch of her new home, scratching in between his tiny ears earning a low purr in response. Coco had become one of her closest friends so far, along with Anya, a three year old girl with cute blonde locks and a laugh so contagious it made the muscles on your cheeks ache after a long playdate.

Maybe moving away wasn’t the smartest choice. It actually might be one of the stupidest choices she had ever made, actually – moving all the way across the globe when she cried herself to sleep most nights due to her loneliness overcoming her (almost inexistent) self-awareness. Y/N liked to believe she had a wide understanding of her emotions, but it was a blatant lie.

At least she was distracted for most of the day – taking care of two kids and looking after a teenager wasn’t an easy task. It required a lot of mental presence; but by the time she was in bed at night, it all hit back again. She thought maybe this is how life is supposed to be for her, lonely – maybe it was not her brain playing her tricks but her brain making her see how her life truly was.

It’d been two weeks since the Lockehold family picked Y/N up from the airport, and on one side getting physically adjusted to this new life hadn't been as rough as she thought it’d be. She did have it easy, if she had to admit – a big room in a giant, beautiful home and a car to her disposal. Emotionally, on the other side, life was still the same.

She knew the moment she heard heels hitting the cold marble staircase Bella was on her way down with Ivy, the eldest of the three sisters, following close behind, complaining about a hangout she was apparently going to miss because they “are expecting a guest” as Bella announced, meaning neither of her parents could drive her. That’s how Y/N found herself sitting in her (borrowed) blue Jeep Renegade driving Ivy to her friend Lily’s house – who lived in the same rich, over-the-top neighborhood as her guest family, which meant the ride to and back was no longer than twenty minutes. During those minutes together, though, Y/N could physically feel the irritation running through Ivy’s blood because first, she still wasn’t too fond of Y/N because she is 16 and doesn’t need a babysitter -her words, not Y/N’s- and second, Y/N is still not accustomed to driving on the other side of the road.

Technically, Y/N had the weekends off. Living with the same people who employed her gladly didn’t mean working 24/7, but she hoped she could earn a couple of points in her favor if she took her free time to drive her around.

After a short conversation between the two (where Ivy refused to save Y/N’s number in case an emergency came up because she could always call her dad), Y/N dropped her off and drove back to the Lockehold’s. What caught her off guard, was the sight of someone in the driveway at the house next door getting suitcases out of the trunk of a black cab – there hadn’t been any movement in the old Victorian mansion since she’d moved in next door. A man, definitely very tall, dressed in a dark suit is all Y/N could decipher since it was already dark outside and she had to strictly concentrate on not switching to the opposite side of the road out of habit.

Alex was coming down the stairs when Y/N locked the front door – Bella’s husband was a very handsome man for his age, probably anyone could admit it. He was kind of scary sometimes, but was a true sweetheart on the inside; he’s in his mid-40’s and it was clear as day his family meant everything to him, he even treated Y/N like his own daughter, always making sure she’s comfortable and inviting her to most family hangouts – even though Y/N declined pretty often to allow them to have quality time as a family (and because being too socially involved drained her, but they needn’t have to know that)

“You wanna join us for dinner? We have a guest tonight. A family friend.”

“Oh, no, I'm good, you guys enjoy yourselves. I’ll say hello, though.” Y/N replied with a smile; and as before mentioned, even though she had the weekends to herself, they still loved to insist on her joining them for fancy dinners and whatnot. The Lockehold’s loved being hostesses, loved having people around (from what Y/N learned this past two weeks) but she really wanted -and needed- some time for herself after being with them the entire week, and even though she loved hanging out with them, she just wasn’t in the mood tonight.

“You sure? Bella made homemade pasta, from scratch. Her specialty.” Mouthwatering, Y/N thought. Bella was such an amazing cook, and even though she worked hours upon hours every day, she still came to her husband and kids in time to make dinner every night, not missing a single day.

“Sounds delicious, but I think I’ll pass, I’m just really tired.” And before anyone could make another comment, the loud bell ringing through the main floor of the house startled Y/N as it’s louder than ordinary – and sounded kind of old and creepy, in her opinion. By the time the constant thud in her chest lowered to a normal speed, she could recognize Bella’s voice in the foyer, meaning she was the one who received their guest, with a deep voice following after saying 'thank you for having me'.

"He's here!" Alex clasped his hands together, a wide smile appearing in his face. Y/N followed him into the living room where Bella was already chatting animatedly with a man; tall and with broad shoulders (but not excessively; just the right amount) his figure was leaning slightly forward as he listened to Bella rambling about all the 'good things he had missed while he was away'. His hands were clasped on his back and when he lifted his head, he made direct eye contact with Y/N without even having to search for her eyes. His brown curls were perfectly placed on top of his head looking extremely soft, and when he ran his hand through it Y/N couldn’t help but swallow harshly. He undoubtedly looked like someone who belonged in Hollywood next to a young Leo DiCaprio and he was definitely older than Y/N – probably already in his 30's, she guessed, but ageing like the finest wine. He had the softest looking wrinkles in the corners of his eyes – those eyes, forest green; reminded Y/N of what used to be home for her. His intense gaze held a lot of emotion, a lot of thought, unlike his face, that appeared stiff and cold, with a slight crease between his brows. His pink, heart-shaped lips were pressed in a line, a cute mole adorning one side of his chin.

"Harry! It's so good to see you, we've missed you." Alex's excitement forced him to drift his gaze away from Y/N, leaving her like a heated teenager salivating for him. Y/N honestly thought he might had left her speechless and most likely with increasing probabilities to make a fool out of herself if someone needed her to talk, as she was certain she wouldn't be able to formulate any coherent sentences.

Harry. It totally suited him, Y/N repeated his name a couple of times inside her head to check on its pronunciation. Alex reached him and pulled him in a big hug, patting each other's back, and Harry's lips broke into a huge smile making a line of pearly white teeth appear. And dimples. God, he had dimples.

This is how I die, Y/N thought.

"So good to see you, Alex." If sex was a sound, his voice would definitely be it.

"Your skin is glowing, Harry. Italy always does you wonders." Bella gushed. And she was right – his skin had this beautiful golden undertone, but it looked natural and radiant, almost like the sun itself kissed and caressed his skin with the softest touches. Alex snapped Y/N into reality when he turned to face her and grabbed her hand to pull her closer to them, starting a long introduction no one was paying much attention to, explaining how he’d missed her arrival, like he even cared, and how she was the Au Pair they’d all been talking about ever since February. It wasn’t until Alex mentioned something about Y/N and Harry probably seeing each other a lot she was suddenly interested in what was actually going on.

“He owns the school the girl’s attend.” Alex directed towards her. Now, Y/N assumed the moment she laid eyes on him he was probably rich – who wears a suit to a Sunday dinner with friends? Rich people are weird, that’s something we can all agree on; but owning a school which’s monthly fees per kid were worth three of her salaries? That was quite unexpected.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry." Y/N offered him her hand, trying to sound as casual as possible, even if her skin felt like it was burning under his intense gaze and her eyes were definitely betraying her.

"The pleasure’s all mine, Y/N." He shook her hand. His strong hold sent shivers down her spine; the cold rings making a big contrast against the heat his hand radiated and she couldn't help but fantasize about how his touch would feel in some other places.

The sudden embarrassment feeling hot against her cheeks made her turn around impossibly faster, feeling guilty at the dirty thoughts consuming her brain while around her bosses – and in front of him. Making a beeline straight to her room, announcing she was calling it a night, she sent Harry a quick -but quite charming- smile, and couldn’t help but soften at the sound of Anya running down the stairs yelling an excited ‘Harryyyy’ once she was past the kitchen.

She knew she got lucky with her commodities – an entire studio-like apartment past the main kitchen of the house, where the servant’s area used to be located a handful of decades ago; but she cussed in a whisper when she remembered half way through her making of a sandwich (four hours after she’d retreated to her bedroom and because she decided on skipping dinner that night, not having enough energy to cook) that her lazy ass still hadn’t bought mayonnaise. Her small kitchen had enough space to hold her snacks, along with some ingredients to make a few meals, since she only had to worry about food on the weekends. Reluctantly, she took the small plate holding her sandwich and made her way towards the main kitchen. There was no way in hell she’d eat a sandwich with no mayo – never in a million years, too dry to go down her throat.

I guess they won't mind if I grab just enough to put on my sandwich, she thought. The house was quiet, everyone probably already in bed, therefore she almost pissed herself when she found Harry sitting in one of the kitchen stools, looking down at his phone with an annoyed expression adorning his face. Almost as if he could sense someone was in the same room, he looked up to find Y/N standing at the kitchen threshold, his face abandoning any sort of emotion.

"Hey."

"Hi." Y/N walked towards the fridge on the far right of the kitchen, opposite from where she came in. "Sorry, I thought no one was here."

"Don't worry, just waiting for Bella and Alex to come back down to have some tea, they're putting the girls to sleep. Would you like to join us?" He offered. And honestly, she'd love to say yes and just listen to him talk with that deep, melodic voice, but her stomach was really hating her right now.

"I'm good, just grabbing some mayo. Thank you, though." She declined with a small smile.

"Next time." He sounded more demanding than suggesting, which slightly baffled Y/N. "Can I ask where you are from?" He asked respectfully.

"A small town in the Argentine Patagonia." Y/N replied with her back facing him as she busied herself with the mayonnaise container.

"Never been to Argentina. Or anywhere in South America, actually." And when Y/N turned around, sandwich in hand ready to go back to her room, their eyes met across the kitchen and she felt the heat creeping up her neck for the second time that night. Y/N wondered how his gaze was always this intense – she wasn’t a fan of how they’d barely exchanged a few words and somehow she felt so exposed.

"You should. It's beautiful." She almost, almost, choked on her own words and when she looked down at her fuzzy pink socks and back to him to try and calm her growing nerves down, he surprised her when she caught him looking up and down her body – in any other case she definitely would’ve felt creeped out, but there was something about him, the fact that he definitely didn’t do it with the intention of her catching him (she noticed how he shifted uncomfortably on his seat after the exchange) and how he simply added a “I’m sure it is," afterwards, she knew she was fucked right then and there – she wanted him looking at her. Was that something bad?

But then – then she remembered how she was wearing her soft cotton pajamas, and she began wondering if he was just laughing internally at her outfit instead of checking her out like she initially thought. And just like a save from heaven, Bella and Alex appeared in the kitchen discussing who was picking Ivy up from her friend's house. "Hi Y/N, still awake?"

"Yeah, got hungry. Stole a bit of mayo, hope you don't mind." She shyly held the plate up.

"Please, this is your house too." Alex waved her off.

"Thanks. Gonna go back now." Y/N pointed towards the small hallway that led to her room. "Goodnight." Turning her body to walk away, she caught Harry's eyes, again, still staring at her, but decided on simply walking away, breaking eye contact, making that small interaction their last one for the night.

&

The following week consisted of Anya and Y/N playing lots of fun games, trying to get a word out of Charlie and Ivy ignoring her for the most part. Her relationship with each of them was completely different, each trusting her at their own peace, getting used to having a stranger around. Anya seemed the only one openly excited to hang out with Y/N every day, and even though she could tell Charlie didn't exactly mind her presence, she still hadn't talked to her as much as she'd like her to.

"What are you up to, Charlie?" Y/N asked the seven year old as she sat next to her in the big playroom they had on the main floor. Charlie kept her gaze locked on her drawing with a handful of crayons on her right hand as she drew with her left. "You're left handed? That's so cool!" Bella had mentioned some time ago that Charlie had a really hard time letting people in, Y/N knew it'd take some time for her to see her as a friend -like she wanted her to- rather than someone who gets paid to hang out with her, but Bella confessed Charlie was actually really excited to meet Y/N, which felt like a small relief, knowing she actually wanted her there – unlike Ivy. Charlie spoke only when necessary and struggled with making friends but her psych pedagogue said she's just really shy and that ‘once she breaks out of her shell, she's unstoppable’. "I love the birds you drew here." Y/N pointed at some small birds sitting in a tree branch.

"Bluebirds." She murmured.

Getting a single word from her was considered progress, in Y/N’s opinion, but that’s all she got for the entire afternoon – even after constantly sending comments her way while playing with Anya so Charlie wouldn’t feel left out, not a single word came out of her mouth. Anya mentioned Harry at some point while talking about her favorite doll (which Harry had gifted her for her 3rd birthday) and the flash of captivating green eyes almost blinded her internally (she couldn’t deny she’d thought about Harry every once in a while this past week)

And it wasn’t until later that same day, after spending a long while sitting alone in a nearby park, she got the chance to see him again – even if he had scared her (almost) to death, she couldn’t help but feel an annoying flutter in her stomach.

She would like to say she loved her long walks during the most unreasonable times at night, but her reasoning behind her late night needs of distraction didn’t exactly thrill her. It was during the quietest and most peaceful times of the day when her mind seemed to speed faster than ever before; the sleepless nights and brain-wrecking thinking of how alone and empty she actually felt, along with the laziness and reluctance when it came to things that used to make her happy weighed her down like carrying a sack of potatoes on her back.

As she was walking past her neighbor's house (the one where she had seen that man with the suitcases last week) she noticed someone sitting on the large porch. Weird, she thought. She hadn't noticed any movement in the house since that night a week ago, to the point she even considered it being empty again. The silhouette seemed oddly familiar though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

"Y/N." She slightly jumped as she heard them call for her, in a strong and deep accent. Was that...

"Harry?" She asked befuddled. Did he live there? She watched as he stood up from his sitting position on the outdoor couch and walked across his front yard to take a closer look at him stopping at the bottom of the short staircase that leads to the porch. "What are you doing up so late?" And then something clicked in her brain – he was probably the man she saw that night, with his suitcases. It made sense, how he probably got home from vacation the same day he had dinner at the Lockehold's – the same day Bella mentioned something about him being in Italy

"Can't sleep." He simply replied, with a small sigh. He then nodded to the seat behind him, and Y/N could physically feel her brain going a thousand miles per minute. She sat on the far left of the couch as he retook his seat on the right, "what are you doing up so late?" He repeated her question.

And Y/N repeated his answer. "Can't sleep."

So they sat in silence, what felt like hours barely being a few seconds. "Didn't know you lived next door." Y/N took the time to take in his side profile - sharp and long nose, the tip curving slightly downwards when he spoke the next line.

"Never mentioned it." He replied apathetically. The unexpected switch in his tone made her immediately shut up, and even though it confused Y/N as to why he would want her joining him if he didn't want to talk, she was dreading going back to her room alone to drown in her thoughts again. She'd take uncomfortable company over being alone when her head got like this, it helped her get distracted; overthinking this situation instead of the same scenarios that constantly lived in her head.

They again sat in silence for a while, this time for longer than a few minutes, and even though it was slightly uncomfortable, there was an unspoken understanding between them. He just wanted company, and so did she. This time, however, it was him who tried for conversation. "Why did you choose England for your Au Pair program?"

"I was actually convinced I was going to choose France," Y/N shared with a soft tone, "but when I met the girls in one of my interviews I just knew I had to come here. Anya was so excited about meeting me, she thought it was already settled." She ended with a small smile on her lips. The memory of Anya smiling happily at her through the computer screen even when she hadn't had met her yet warming her heart.

It was true, the fact that she’d chosen England because of the girls. She wanted to learn French – she knew her way around the English language pretty well; but the French family whom interviewed her didn’t come close to the Lockehold’s at all – she thought maybe the experience of living in a whole different continent with a wonderful family was better than choosing a place because of the language – the experience was being experienced either way.

"Anya is a very special kid. They all are." Harry declared, the left corner of his mouth turning upwards in a small half smile.

Y/N nodded slowly before asking, "How long have you known them?" She could recall Alex saying he was a family friend – but she had no other information about him besides that.

"A while." The small conversation went for a long while, he shared the real reason as to why he was awake so late, explaining how he has struggled with falling asleep ever since he was young, but besides that comment, he kept his life very private; not sharing much information about himself during their chat, and every time Y/N reciprocated a question, he would either answer vaguely or didn't answer at all, changing the subject with another question. "It's really late" He commented, Y/N’s phone reading 1:08am.

"Yeah, I should probably go to bed." She lifted her head to look at him, who was already searching for her eyes. Y/N cleared her throat when a few moments passed by, again, with no one speaking a word. She wondered what could possibly be going through his head at the time, but he nodded, got up and said, "I'll see you around, Y/N." Her name flowed so nicely out of his lips it made her knees get weak. Locking herself in her bedroom (after entering it by the door at the side of the house – which leaded straight to her room) she laid in bed trying to understand why they’d just hang out in his front porch way past midnight when they clearly didn’t know each other very well – or at all, better said.

&

First day of classes came by in a heartbeat. The first Monday of September Y/N found herself getting up earlier than she was accustomed to, since the girl's sleeping schedule was different during the summer. 6:15am read her alarm when she lazily threw the soft covers off her body. A quick shower and minimal makeup application later, she stood naked next to her bed checking the weather app, as to know how to prepare the girl's clothes.

After putting a soft pink sweater on and a pair of flared jeans, Y/N left the warmth of her room to wake the girls up. Going for Charlie first (since she didn't need any help changing into her uniform and Ivy used her own alarm) she didn't give Y/N any work at all, waking up immediately after softly calling her name once. Picking her uniform from her closet and leaving it for her to change, Y/N left Charlie’s room to walk towards the next door.

"Morning, Anya." She whispered as she brushed some of her hair out of her face. Anya’s little nose scrunched up and a soft whimper left her mouth as she switched positions, now laying on her side, "gotta wake up, love." Y/N shook her arm softly, and she finally opened her eyes, a tired smile creeping up her face as she noticed it was Y/N sitting next to her. Y/N left her to rub the tiredness off her eyes while she picked her clothes (since her daycare was at the same school her older sister's attended -Harry's school, Y/N couldn't help but think- her uniform consisted of only a white t-shirt with the school logo along with any pair of bottoms she chose for the day.

After picking up her cute small rain boots and help her get dressed up, Y/N did a cute hairstyle on her with the small butterfly hair clips she chose, and went back to Charlie's room to do her hair, Anya coming along.

They arrived at their school; a big, period-like brick building with hundreds of students roaming around and a beautiful fountain at the front – which actually made Y/N’s childhood look like a big joke; the school she had attended was located in the middle of the mountains in a remote field.

"I'll be here at two thirty. Good luck, girls, I'll see you later." Ivy walked away sending a 'mhm' her way to let her know she heard her, and Charlie offered a small smile along with a wave and walked away like her sister. Y/N took Anya off her car seat and helped her get out of the car, her tiny backpack sitting on Y/N’s right shoulder as she grabbed the hand Anya offered her.

"Mommy said I have the penguins' classroom!" She said with excitement as they walked through the doors at the right wing of the building.

"That's so cool! I love penguins, let's search for the door which has penguins on it, shall we?" Y/N suggested even though she could clearly see their door at the end of the hallway.

"Yes! This one has elephants," she pointed at the door they were passing, "look, butterflies!"

"Like your hairclips!" Y/N exclaimed, and she giggled nodding her head. "Ah! Look what we found..." Y/N pointed at the next door.

"Penguins!" She skipped towards the door, dragging Y/N along. They entered the big and colorful classroom where they found some kids crying in their parent’s arms, others being as excited as Anya.

"Hi there! Anya, am I correct?" A woman who appeared to be around Y/N’s age came up to them, scrunching down to be on Anya’s eye level. She nodded frantically, excitement dripping from her smile. "My name is Miss Pia, I'm going to be your teacher this year." She introduced herself, Anya gave her an even bigger smile and slyly asked if she could go meet her classmates, to which Miss Pia agreed, asking her to first hang her small backpack in the rack at the back of the room, taking it from my hands and running excitedly to do it.

"You must be Y/N, then?" Miss Pia asked, getting back up to her feet. She was short with blonde curly hair sitting high in a ponytail, rosy cheeks and a cute teacher apron on top of her regular clothes.

"I am." Y/N offered her hand.

"The administration office said we would be having an Au Pair this year, they always give us a heads up with situations like these." She explained, and Y/N nodded as she continued, "we have the parents, nannies or in this case, Au Pairs," they both laughed," stay for the introduction, you can leave afterwards."

"Perfect, I'll sit at the back with the rest of the parents." Y/N ended up staying for about half an hour, smiling at Anya every time she turned to search for her when something exciting seemed to be happening. She won't be needing any adaptation, as Miss Pia said, and she was dismissed right before they had their first trip to the playground outside, taking advantage of the fact that it hadn't started raining yet.

Right when Y/N was walking out of the building, she spotted Harry at the main entrance, reading something on his phone. He was wearing a navy blue suit with a white shirt underneath, and he looked even more handsome in the daylight. She made her way towards him, walking up the marble stairs (marble stairs! In a school?), and when he noticed her, he put his phone away and slowly (and trying to be as discrete as possible – which he failed to, again) looked up and down her body. Something about him giving her his full attention made her insides burn, and she couldn’t help but bit her bottom lip to suppress a smile.

"Hi." She stopped in front of him, taking a moment to look at his eyes; they definitely looked a lot lighter now that there was natural light surrounding them.

"Hi." He repeated, "Dropped the girl's off?" He motioned towards the building with his head.

"Yes, just left Anya’s classroom." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Miss Pia?" He asked, squinting his eyes.

"Yes. She's nice, looks like she knows what she's doing." Y/N shrugged. She didn't exactly know her enough to have a conversation about her – and she most definitely couldn’t be one to talk, since she herself didn’t know what she was doing half of the time. “How’s the first day back been so far?” He got cut off from his next comment by his phone, and the small crease between his eyebrows grew deeper, which didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N. "I'll leave you to it." She announced, but his eyes found hers again, and it was almost like he was asking for her to not leave him to it, but Y/N didn’t trust her instincts, not with him – not when he made her so nervous her brain couldn’t process things around him, and she was scared of misreading his expressions; he was hard to read. Not like she was expert at reading people but he was frustratingly confusing.

&

They didn't see each other again until a week later on a Tuesday evening – the same day Charlie, Anya and her decided to go for a walk and treat themselves with ice cream from a cute shop across from (what had come to be) her favorite park, Harry and Y/N found each other's eyes across his front garden, just like that night, but this time it was easy for her to recognize him as she could see his face clear and glowing from the sunset shine. His eyes were glued to her until the fence that divided their houses blocked his view, and again, Y/N wondered what could be going through his head.

It wasn’t until after dinner, past her work hours, she decided to leave the house through the door on her room with the sparking curiosity to test if she would run into Harry. Stopping on the sidewalk in front of his house, she noticed he was not sitting outside, and even though that's exactly what she had expected -he was not going to sit there for hours and hours, right?- There still was a small feeling of disappointment that rushed through her, and when she snapped back into reality, it was too late to stop herself as she knocked on his front door.

And Y/N didn’t know where to hide – not like hiding would be less embarrassing but God she did hate herself that moment. The embarrassment running through her veins was painful and made her lightheaded – she knew she had trouble sometimes with not thinking things through, but this was beyond her. He barely knew her. And suddenly his door was wide open.

"Y/N?" Of course she was not lucky enough for him to be asleep and not hearing her knock – life would’ve been too in her favor for that to happen. Of course he was very awake with a half drank cup of tea in his hand and the softest looking pair of grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips. "Are you ok? You look really pale." His voice was calm, probably the softest it'd ever been in her presence. At least he doesn't sound mad, Y/N thought.

Harry wanted to be confused, but he was more curious than anything else. For some reason, he felt very intrigued by Y/N – how she seemed confident but insanely insecure at the same time; it reminded him of himself, if he had to be honest. He just learned how to hide the latter.

"Uh, yeah- um, I was-" she nervously turned around halfway to look behind her and back at him again. He raised his eyebrows in curiosity and Y/N really tried her hardest not to step over her words. "I was about to go for a walk, uh, I was wondering if you'd like to join me?" Stupid. So, so stupid, Y/N thought.

"No, I'm good." He replied, finding oh-so-amusing the way her eyes gave her embarrassment away – he was having fun, watching her like a lost puppy trying to think through her next words.

Her mind was, of course, over speeding. She now felt even more embarrassed. Of course he doesn't want to go for a walk, Y/N conscience spoke to her, it's a Tuesday night and he's probably tired and I'm his friends' Au Pair – he probably thinks I'm this young and annoying girl who has a stupid crush and- "would you like to join me?" He interrupted her self-beating up raising his cup and she noticed the half smile adorning his face, almost like he could tell the wheels in her brain were fast-moving.

"Wouldn't want to interrupt-"

"You're not. I wouldn't have invited you in if you were. C'mon in, now. It's kinda cold out here." He disappeared inside of his house, leaving her on his porch with an open mouth and a blank brain. After closing the door behind her and taking her black vans off, she turned on her left as she guessed that was the way Harry went – and she knew she’d guessed correctly when she stepped into a big open-plan concept living room with a giant kitchen on the far back, Harry standing with his back towards her preparing her tea, "sugar?"

"No, thank you." She sat in one of the stools at the kitchen island as she took the scene in front of her. Her very cute (and much older), very hot neighbor Harry, in sweatpants and a very thin white shirt, a small patch of skin showing on his hip, making her tea. His shoulders were broad and she could see his back muscles moving as he poured steaming hot water into the cup, the little curls on his neck so inviting, if only she could run her hand through his soft looking hair just once-

"There you go. Cardamom." He snapped her out of her (probably inappropriate) thoughts, and she thanked him as she grabbed the cup from where he placed it; he stayed in his position standing in front of her on the other side of the island, with his forearms against the cold marble, sipping on his own mug, thinking about how strange it felt to have someone he wasn’t close with sitting in his kitchen after so long. "Why are you up so late?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"I figured. I couldn't either, looks like we both have a bit of sleeping issues, huh?" He sounded playful, but tired. Y/N knew exactly how it felt, being so tired but not being able to peacefully go to bed and get some needed rest.

"I remember you mentioning it before, I figured I'd check if you were up. Walking helps me relax, thought maybe you'd enjoy it too." OK, that wasn't entirely true but her reasoning to be there was quite similar – to check if he was up so they could, maybe, share a quiet night like that one a few weeks ago. None of them understood why they found such comfort in each other’s company – none of them felt like they needed to try too hard.

At some point during their conversation they moved to the couch, where they laid with a wide gap between their bodies. "Elton John's was definitely an interesting read. Lots of crazy anecdotes, you should read it."

"Probably not as good as Keith's, but I'll give it a go." He let a dimpled smile creep into his face, turning his head to look at her from across the couch and the annoying turn her stomach made obliged her to return it, just as bright as his. Finding out their music taste was quite similar made Y/N’s insides all warm and fuzzy, he showed her his vinyl collection (which was quite large) and ranted about how the modern industry was missing a rock star with some of that unexplainable essence old rock bands have – to which she respond saying maybe that something that makes them special was the fact that they were old bands... added to the fact that even though she was an old music lover, modern pop was her guilty pleasure.

Their third teacups were long forgotten on the modern coffee table by the time he noticed Y/N’s eyes were slowly beginning to close and he, as last time, said, "it's really late." And Y/N only nodded and tiredly got up from her position, with him following close behind.

"Goodnight, Harry. Thank you for having me even though I came unannounced." She shyly said, her actions still making her embarrassed even though it had already been a couple of hours.

"My pleasure. We should- do this again," He coughed into his hand, and uncomfortably continued, "I enjoy your company." That sentence alone made her heart explode with a thousand emotions, because even though they barely knew each other and it clearly pained him to admit he enjoyed having her around, his presence made her calm but anxious in a peculiar mixture of emotions. All she did in return was gift him a big smile, face hot of embarrassment (a nice kind of embarrassment, that feeling when you just want to smile really big and tightly hug whoever is making you feel that way) and slowly pushed herself up on her tiptoes to give him a sweet kiss on the cheek. "Bye." He said lastly, and closed his front door with red cheeks and dimples on display.

- Joey.

[tennessoui]

this is probably too many prompts lol but uhhh obikin: #6 meeting at a coffee shop au; #24 literally bumping into each other au; #40 exes meeting again after not speaking for years au (i'm a sucker for breaking up and getting back together again lol); #42 star-crossed lovers au; #48 meeting again at a high school reunion au

hi!! you probably forgot you sent this at all and I wouldn't blame you in the slightest. I'm pretty sure someone else already asked for 24, 40, and 42, so I wrote #6 instead! warnings for this one: bittersweet in that both anakin and obi-wan are sad, also the author is sad, also this takes place in the midwest in america (this is the first fic that is obviously set in america!!! wow!!)

6. Meeting At A Coffee Shop Diner AU (1.9k)

“Have a seat anywhere you want,” the hostess tells Obi-Wan without looking up from her phone.

Obi-Wan blinks and then looks around the deserted seating area. “Thank you, uh.” She’s not wearing a name tag.

“Angel’ll bring you the menu and take care of you, thanks for coming in,” she says, glancing up at him and then away.

Well then. Obi-Wan reminds himself that customer service isn’t everyone’s strong suit, that she might have had a rough day, that he’s here for the quick food on his way through town, that his ego isn’t fragile enough that he needs to be led to a table with a smile.

The restaurant is almost completely deserted. There’s two truckers eating their weight in bacon and eggs at the counter, and a family of four seated around a table, resolutely picking at their food instead of talking to each other. And then there’s Obi-Wan.

He chooses a booth by the window, one that overlooks the absolute nothingness of midwestern American scenery. If he cranes his neck, he can probably see corn.

God, Obi-Wan’s sick of seeing corn, and he’s only been in this part of the country for a few hours. He needs to go right through most of it to get where he’s headed. He’s not sure how he won’t die of boredom.

The thought sends a pang through his chest. It’s too soon to think of death even in an offhand way. He taps his fingers on the cover of his leather journal, before a line of dark brown under one of them catches his eye. He studies his hand critically.

It’s been two days since the funeral. Surely he wouldn’t still have grave dirt under his nails. Surely things like that wash away eventually.

“Hey,” a voice says from in front of him. A man is turned around and kneeling up in the booth in front of Obi-Wan’s, leaning over the garishly red vinyl of the empty seat with a menu clutched in one hand. His hair is short and dark blond, an undercut with a long fringe settling over his forehead. He has a nice sort of smile, one that looks genuine but doesn’t touch his eyes. Obi-Wan notices how long the man’s neck is and how predominant his collarbones appear in the loose white shirt he’s wearing, before he forces himself to focus only on his face. “I’m Angel,” the guy says, passing over the menu. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

Obi-Wan accepts it gingerly. It looks like something that’s perpetually sticky. “Water is fine,” he says politely. “Thank you.”

“Will do,” Angel salutes him and ambles away. Obi-Wan watches him go before shaking his head to rid himself of any sort of thought, and opening the menu.

It’s standard food fare, of course. Breakfast options served all day if anyone were to come in and request them. Lunch and dinner options are also served all day, probably for the same reason: a diner like this can’t afford to turn anyone away, even if they want a hamburger at nine in the morning.

A glass of water clinks down onto the table next to him, making him look up at Angel, who’s looking at him curiously.

“You ready to order?” he asks, even though Obi-Wan is still very much looking at the menu and it’s also only been a few minutes at most since Angel gave it to him in the first place.

“Do you have any suggestions?” Obi-Wan asks politely. “I’ve never been here before. What’s good?”

“The water,” Angel says and then laughs like he’s said something funny. Obi-Wan finds his own mouth curling up at the sound. Sometimes people’s laughter is contagious, like a yawn.

And then Angel says, “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No,” Obi-Wan admits. “North of Boston.”

Angel whistles, like Obi-Wan has said something impressive. “Boston, huh? What are you doing all the way out here?”

The pit in his stomach intensifies. He does his best not to look at his nails and the grave dirt that might still be under them. “Driving,” he finally says. “And are you...from around here?”

Angel’s eyes grow distant for a second, and when he focuses again on Obi-Wan, they’re cold. “Born and raised,” he tells him flatly. “Never got out.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan doesn’t know what to do with the sort of bitterness in Angel’s tone. It complements his own well enough.

“If you like eggs, I’ll put you in for the house special omelette,” Angel declares suddenly, all business again. “It’s four eggs, tomatoes, peppers, cheese. The usual.”

“What makes it special?” Obi-Wan asks, closing his menu and setting it down on the table in front of him.

“For you?” Angel drawls, “I’ll watch the cook to make sure he doesn’t get any egg shells in it,” and then he winks, holding out his hand.

Naturally, Obi-Wan shakes it. Naturally, Obi-Wan realizes a second after feeling Angel’s warm, calloused rough palm against his own that the man had meant to take the menu from Obi-Wan.

He can’t remember the last time he’s blushed this red, but he is absolutely regretting everything about this road trip. God, he’d pay money just to be able to leave now.

He should get in his car and drive back to Boston. It had been a stupid idea to come out here anyway, a result of stir-craziness and a desire to outrun the death of his father.

And now look what he’s doing. Shaking hands with his handsome waiter, as if he isn’t thirty-nine and perfectly aware of social norms.

Thankfully, miraculously, Angel laughs and this time it sounds real. “It’s okay,” he tells him, reaching out to pick up the menu.

Luckily for everyone involved, Obi-Wan finds it very easy to laugh at himself. “Well. It’s nice to meet you, Angel, I’m Obi-Wan.”

“I’ll go put the order in,” Angel says, “Obi-Wan.”

He’s back within five minutes, sliding into the seat across from Obi-Wan. So much for no eggshells in his omelette, but he can’t bring himself to be disappointed. There’s something magnetically fascinating about Angel. He’d like to know more.

“So you’re driving?” Angel asks, picking up a thread of conversation from several minutes ago. “Where are you going?”

“I was thinking of Alaska,” Obi-Wan says. “I’ve--I’ve always wanted to go.”

“You’re driving from Boston to Alaska?” Angel whistles, raising his eyebrows in shock. “I think the gas money alone would cost me two months of work.”

Obi-Wan shrugs. It’s not like he makes much himself as a teacher in Massachusetts. “My father was a lifelong gambler,” he discloses without really knowing why he’s telling this to a stranger. “He came into a bit of luck near the end. A bit of a fortune as well. And when he...died, I inherited it and his house.”

Angel touches his hand softly. “I’m sorry,” he says. “When did he pass?”

Obi-Wan huffs out what might be a chuckle. “A week ago, actually. It’s summer break in Massachusetts--I’m a teacher--and I suddenly had nothing to stay for, for a bit. It was either leave for Alaska or find some other way to cope.”

He runs a hand--his free hand, the one Angel isn’t touching--over his beard as he gives the man a rueful smile. “Dad always wanted me to see more of the world.”

“My mom was the same way,” Angel leans forward to tell him, as if it’s a secret. Obi-Wan feels like it is a secret, that there’s something delicate and fragile in the air. Something that matches whatever emotion is filling up Angel’s eyes. “Always telling me to leave, go get famous, go get happy, come back and tell her about it.”

“You didn’t?” Obi-Wan asks, his chest tightening at the thought that the man before him could be unhappy.

“I couldn’t,” Angel sneers, looking out the window and propping his chin on his hand. Some things must be too close to the heart to tell someone to their face. “Mom got sick. I wanted to get out, I was so close. Graduated high school, packed my stuff. I was going to go to California. To Los Angeles, really make it big.” He rolls his eyes and scoffs, as if there’s something inherently funny about the dreams he must have cherished for so long.

“Then mom collapsed going down the stairs. Just passed out in the middle of the day. Doctors told us she was sick. Then life became all about treatment plans and monitoring symptoms and getting the money for the medicines and I never left. Got a job here when I was eighteen years old, right before I graduated high school. It’s all I’ve ever known, I guess.”

“And your mother?” Obi-Wan asks, mouth dry and heart all tangled up in itself for this stranger man, for Angel with the hard, sad eyes.

“Died a year and a half ago or so,” Angel says flatly like he’s repeated the words so often in his head that the truth digs no barbs into his flesh. Obi-Wan knows that voice is a lie. How often has he looked in the mirror this past week and told himself, ‘Qui-Gon Jinn is dead’? He can’t imagine a year and a half would make the pain go away.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan says seriously, reaching across the table to touch Angel’s hand this time.

Angel shrugs but doesn’t pull away. “Is what it is, I guess,” he says. “I’ve made my peace with it. And the fact that I’ll never leave this godforsaken town.”

“You could,” Obi-Wan points out hesitantly. “You could leave tomorrow.”

For a second, a wild and previously undiscovered part of Obi-Wan wonders what it would be like, if Angel did leave tomorrow--with him. If they got into the same car and headed to Alaska together and Obi-Wan wasn’t alone at the wheel and Angel wasn’t alone in this town. If Obi-Wan could look over at the man in the passenger seat, asleep against the doorway as they crossed into Canada.

Obi-Wan wonders. Obi-Wan aches.

“I could,” Angel says, laughing once. “I guess I could. I guess I just can’t think of a good enough reason to.”

There’s a call of his name from the kitchen, and Angel stands and stretches, checking the time on his watch. “That’ll be your omelette, sir, which is perfect timing considering I’m off shift as of five minutes ago.”

“Thank you then,” Obi-Wan replies, ignoring the pang in his gut at the knowledge he won’t be able to keep talking to him. “It was nice meeting you, Angel.”

Angel’s face grows dark for a second as his jaw clenches. “That’s not my name,” he finally says, scratching at his neck with one hand. “That’s just what they called me when I started working here. Angel, like Los Angeles. Cause I told everyone for weeks this was a temporary thing, you know? I’d be going to California soon as mom got better. Guess they knew better than I did.”

Obi-Wan has never wanted to kidnap a grown man away from a place more, so he hides his hands under the table instead. “Would you tell me your name then?” he asks, wondering if he’s overstepping but needing to know too much to censor himself.

“It’s Anakin,” his waiter says, sticking his hand out, no menu to grab.

Obi-Wan takes it gently, turns it over, and cradles it between both of his hands. “Then it’s nice to meet you, Anakin.”

Maybe, he thinks as he picks at his omelette and watches Anakin shoulder his way through the front doors of the diner before disappearing down the street, maybe he can stay a day in this nowhere town. Just an extra day.

Yes, he thinks, taking a sip of his water. He’ll try the pancakes next.

[muffindaddystyles]

HIP DISLOCATION AT FIRST SIGHT.

Summary: where you're a waitress at Harry's favourite friends-hangout spot, he secretly likes you and you're having a rough day.

Warning: angst and fluff.

You're a beaming sparrow rolling onto balls of your feet from one booth to another taking orders and being sure of customer's satisfaction at it's peak. Sure, managing a five to nine waitress job isn't anyone's dream but paying tuition fees and bills can make anyone work.

Harry loves to be at this resturant you work; perhaps there's something 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 he loves rather than goofing around with his friends at late hours in any of the booths in far corner.

When he first came here it was for a date who stood him up and you wouldn't lie that you kinda tiny bit of manifested for it but went through a broken heart seeing Harry's sad eyes after him lingering to that one hope that his date would show up.

He was relieved that you helped him at that time with you again and again popping your head just to ask him, if he needs any refills for which he would just kindly quip 'thanks love, bu' it's already tipplin' out from rim.' Or you askin' him if he'll like to fill his belly with some appetizers? Poor him didn't ate anythin' from menu just waiting for his date that day.

From that you got to know he's such a gentleman who got his heart stepped on.

He found you enticing. So, fuckin' beaming even with all of the customers tantrums. Them fussing around for the mess their kids created and Harry couldn't take his eyes away from the slight curve your body molded into when you walked away from him.

With his few more visits you got accustomed that what he likes and the one favourite dish of yours from the resturant you recommended him one time, he licked the plate clean giggling coyly at your reaction.

But today it's different. He's chatting around with his friends, they look super chill, comfy clothes, relaxed postures and a train of light conversation that never seems to end.

You were admiring them from your spot waiting for the tray of food for the table 201 ready to take Harry's and his friend's order after that, suddenly a whine escaping from your lips and you bended your calve to soothe out the drastic pain in your hip-bone.

Zoe one of the hostess gave you a sympathetic smile handing you the tray, "hurtin' like a bitch." You hissed to her toes curling. You've been having this pain for like a week but whatever exercises you're doing it wouldn't budge to ease out.

Maintaining a decent gait you headed towards the last table of your shift before closing, smiling at all of them sweetly, whatever you did not to lock your gaze with Harry it anyhow happened by Cupid's wishes.

"Hi everyone, I'm your waitress and will be takin' your orders." You chirped taking out the sequin notepad from the front pocket of your lace apron and Harry's friends couldn't help but to notice how the tips of his ears turned red, eyes glassy with adoring sheen and lips quirking up shyly.

You noted down everyone's littlest of details turning your head down towards Harry, your voice immediately cooing into a soft one softer than you usually use to be polite with costumers.

"And Harry you'll have your usual?" He cleared his throat coughing into his elbow and everyone stifled a fond laugh just for his sake, "yes, please." His please was so gentle that it melted you over the pastel mauve tiles almost making you forget your pain.

The moment you spinned with your back behind them Harry's loving female friend pinched his cheek, "looks like someone gotta girl crush."

Everyone was chatting but Harry's mind and heart was all for you, it didn't slip out from his sheer notice that you're having it rough today; ponytail loose, cheeks flushed not with the warmth you feel from Harry's presence but with the pain zapping in your leg like an electric shock.

His eyes stayed glued to the way your nails coated into hot red nail polish aren't drumming against the counter as they usually do when you wait for the order instead they're clutching around the edges tightly paling your knuckles and now Harry feels concerned.

Another contraction but you didn't startled yourself. No way you're gonna get made fun of yourself infront of Harry, it would be so embarrassing.

Harry peers up at you with a frown when you heads to their table for refills but you didn't meet his eyes. What his friends will say? That you're a cheap waitress drooling for a bambi eyed, hickorey curls, sunny guy.

But damn when your hands wavered while lifting the jug to pour a glass of water, and you sucked your bottom lip to swallow your agonising gasp Harry wanted to lurch from his seat and ask you what's happening because it's frustrating at this point looking you being so wrecked.

You weakly smiled at all of them. Harry wants to stop you by grabbing your hand but he wants to respect you and doesn't want him to cross his boundaries.

You're back with a tray loaded of food and you're putting plates onto the table when an unbearable contraction of pain twitched inside you badly and you cried out a scream of horror, the tray slipping from your hand to the far corner of the table. The pain's so much your breath has got stuck in your chest causing you too see white.

"Y/n!" Harry panics hot on his feet scooping your side in his arms when you lurch forward unconsciously, even the tears aren't falling from your eyes stayin' at the bayline and you cry out in spurts of breaths dropping Harry's heart to his arse when he got the indication you couldn't breath.

"C-can't...b-" Harry immediately rubbed your back in soothing circles whispering with his honey rasp, "breath fo' me yeah, darlin'?". "S'alright. Jus' breath alon' me." You nod and everyone watches you in shock pity. At Harry's countdown you exhaled and inhaled breaths, his friends are in awe a love-at-first-sight, baby-steps love story is unraveling infront of them.

Harry makes you sit at his seat and you giggle shamefully breathily eyes glossy, "Thank you Harry. Can you..can you call zoe for me? She's right behind the counter." The words burning inside your throat and you're expecting another zap.

Harry's a bit hurt. He doesn't even know why! He wants be the one to take care of you but why you aren't gettin' it, why!?

You want to apologise to his friends but all the words just vanishes when zoe comes padding hurriedly Harry behind her with ever sad eyes, "bubs what happened?"

You're about to speak but another contradiction like someone's pulling at your vein and you're a goner but Harry's by your side holding your hand ignoring the twitch from your hardcore grip as if you'll fracture his hand too, "ah fuck! I think so I broke my hip. I'm fuckin' sure, it feels like dying." You scream jerking your leg and even though Harry's friends shouldn't look at you two with so much awement at the moment but they're still doing so because fuck they all are planning the same sight of both of you at the time of your labour because it may seems like you're popping out Harry's child outta your vagina at the moment.

"M'takin' ye' to hospital." Harry says with stern firmness in his voice because fuck boundaries he can't see you in such pain, "s'okay zoe can you take me to hospital?" You hissed writhing but Harry cuts you off. he's loosing his shit, "I don't care, can't see ya like this lemme help ye'."

Next thing Harry's helping your limpy body outside into the backseat of his car and the whole ride he's beside you one of his friend driving the car, you were a blushing mess at some second but another arching your spine so hard and Harry's instantly wrapping you up in his arms whispering sweet nothings through your tears.

You've gone through a little surgery and it's hour after you're shifted into a room that Harry takes a sigh of relief, you groan fluttering your eyes open the very first sight of yours is Harry into his yellow jumper and plaid trouser looking a tad exhausted.

You're on anesthetic and you're sloppy.

"Hi love feelin' kay? You went through a tiny surgery." He informs you but you pouts in response ignoring everything coming straight to the point, sober you would have never got guts.

"A-are ye' me boyfrien'..?" Your words are bit lisped and poppish, Harry chuckles swiping his thumb at your forehead.

"No' yet. Will be if ye' wan' me to." You bobbed your head like a good little girl observing your odd surroundings and fat tears sticks to your cheeks.

"What happened buns? Should I call doctor? Y'hurtin somewhere?" But you denied lower lip swelling for no reason or maybe medication.

"I've so mu-sh uni work to do, an' I've nothin' to wear on our date." Harry giggles wiping away your tears kissing the apples of your cheeks, stroking your head and you mewled like a kitten making Harry's throat go dry.

"No worries bunny. We'll go on a date whenever you'll want to." He just wants to shower you in his undeniable affectionate kisses but he's holding back, "fo' now go to rest. I'll have m'sober bunny peeking from the meadow in mornin' yeh?"

"Promise me you wouldn't leave?" You asks with doe eyes and he just wants to smash his lips to yours. Fuck. He waited so long.

"Did I, before'?" He asks you kissing your forehead gently trying not to irritate the plaster of your hip. You shook your head tucking your chin inside the comforter, "then I wouldn't even now."

In the morning you find your fingers buried into soft mess of curls and he was already up before you could try to even move your finger, "Harry?" Your voice hoarse from the drowsiness and he cups your cheeks asking if you're feeling dehydrated but you chuckled shaking your head.

"I feel high." He tucks his bottom lip inside his mouth at the fact you look more ethereal from this close, "high from anesthesia." He quips.

"Do you remember anythin' from last night?" He's anxious now how he'll bring to actually ask you out, "I do, from me litreally shouting like a lady bout to give birth to crying for not havin' any dress for our date." He's amused not just at the fact your memory didn't slipped but that you're more chatty and bubbly outta your waitress persona.

"Then it's solid?" He asks timidly and you nod humming coarsely leaning to peck his lips but he grabs you by neck not letting you pull back, thumbs all stroking, mouth moanin' for you and eyes closed into bliss.

"Wanted to kiss ye' so bad from so long." He deepens the kiss not caring if any doctor comes marching right now.

"Now I'm all yours to kiss. Kiss me whenever you want to."

[arysthaeniru]

aAAA the joy of seeing an update on your current favorite fanfic is just aAAA

I always felt that kiwami 1s Nishiki was just a bit too,, I dont know how to describe it; but essentially he just felt off, granted yakuza 1 is a product of its time and therefore the plot is a bit dated and whack as all hell

The way you write Nishiki just feels so much better and realistic; in the original he just seems so uncaring towards Kiryu? which just feels kinda OOC? You'd think he still cares about Kiryu despite it all, especially when you take Yakuza 0 into consideration; and i feel like you portray Nishiki much more accurately

I never thought much about Yumi, because honestly, in the original she was kinda just, there? You actually made her a very interesting person! like I'm actually invested in her in your story! (side note you ever think about her clone who got tortued and died? yeah who WAS that???? thats never brought up is it??)

Theres so much more to talk about but in short; This is the best fix it/rewrite of a game plot I have read to date and it brings me joy in my current stressful school life. and no I will not stop praising it or the author, because this work has made me very happy. ;)

I just have a gift for picking favorites that end up dying,,aand another favorite of mine is Mine

imo theres a lack of soft, reassuring Minedai, i just feel like he'd need a reminder that people love him as a person and not just for the money he can provide, even if its obvious

I'd love to see how you'd write them, but I understand if theres more interesting/appealing drabble requests!

- Carp

CARP, thank you for this <3 this is so sweet!!!!! I’m so happy you enjoy my Nishiki! I had fun playing with what Yakuza 0/the Kiwami additions gave us about Nishiki’s personality and outlook on the world, and trying to reconcile that with the plot that Yakuza 1 initially had. Ultimately, I fell on the side that you did: even if Nishiki’s ambition took him down a monstrous path, I don’t think he’s the sort of person who neglects to pay back his debts. And he’s aware of the huge debt he owes Kiryu. Not to mention, their bonds of trust and love vanishing completely because of jealousy felt unreal to me. Their relationship becoming twisted or strange? Yes, but vanishing entirely felt unsatsifying to me. 

And Yumi!! I had so much fun excavating her character from the clues we get of her in canon. I worry sometimes, that she’s unrecognizable, because you know, I’ve given her a college education, and a whole bunch of interests beyond hostessing alone, but people seem to like it and like her, which is great!! I hate fridging women characters, so keeping her and Reina alive was important to me, hahaha. (RE: fake!Mizuki, there’s this substory in Kiwami that actually addresses who she was, BUT IT’S EVEN MORE HORRIFYING. So that’s why Yumi in my fic is the one captured and tortured by Nishiki’s men, because the thought of this poor innocent woman getting dragged into the mess was just untenable to me.)  

Anyway, thank you for your support and kind words, and I hope you’ll continue to read and that my fic can continue to relieve stress. I--tried to write this about Mine, but Daigo kind of stole the spotlight a little??? I hope you still like it--if not, I will try a ficlet from Mine’s perspective too. I enjoy minedai a lot, but I haven’t had room to think out their dynamic yet, so this took me a while. 

Daigo’s no stranger to being desired. He’s attractive, he knows this—his mother’s beauty lives in his veins, and he’s always had the money to look after himself. Fancy soaps to wash his face, the invisible retainers to keep his teeth straight, fancy suits and skin-tight shirts to show off his frame. For all that Kiryu insists his charisma is something that comes from the soul, Daigo knows it wouldn’t be able to draw the sort of attention he does without being attractive.

Which is to say that Daigo’s not especially thrown off by the intensity of Mine’s gaze. It’s happened before, and it’ll happen again. The thing that surprises him is how much he relishes in being seen by Mine.

Maybe it’s because Mine’s an island in a stormy sea, one of the only yakuza his age who’s sensible and level-headed enough to make it big. Maybe it’s because Mine’s gaze is always so reserved, polite, never overly lusty or overstaying its welcome, and Daigo has so rarely been desired so quietly. Or maybe it’s because Majima and Kashiwagi so clearly disapprove of him—Daigo’s always been something of a rebel, and he hasn’t shaken that off, even now he’s in his thirties and is the arbiter of rules for the Tojo Clan.

Daigo can’t quite put a pin on why he’s so comfortable with Mine’s yearning looks, but he’s never been one to hold back when he wants to indulge in something good. Not exactly a hedonist, not by yakuza standards, but Daigo has never kept himself from enjoying life, in the name of some dubious ‘honour.’

Which is why, in an after-hours meeting with Mine, as they eat cheap takeout sushi together, Daigo takes his chance. A momentary slip, the slightest hint of wasabi left at the corners of Mine’s lips and Daigo swoops in, rubs a thumb over the corner of Mine’s lips. Mine stutters to a stop, mid-sentence through a rundown of the real-estate that the Hakuho Clan’s been purchasing up, and stares at Daigo, eyes bewildered.

“Sixth Chairman?” he asks, his voice still remarkably composed.

“Wasabi.” Daigo says, nonchalantly, as if it’s nothing, and sticks his thumb into his mouth, slowly licking it off with a lingering lave of his tongue. He feels a sharp stab of satisfaction as Mine’s eyes turn darker, and his gaze follows Daigo’s hand down.  

Daigo straightens up, languidly, and cracks his neck, casually. At this point in the day, he’s untucked his shirt, and he knows that a slight strip of his stomach will be visible when he stretches out his arms towards the ceiling. And as predictably as clockwork, Mine’s gaze darts downwards, to that pale expanse, to catch that brief second of skin. Daigo can’t help but feel warm. Something about being watched by Mine is exhilarating.

“Smoke?” offers Daigo, but as usual, Mine refuses, with a polite shake of his head.

Daigo knows from hearsay that Mine’s something a health-freak, so he’s not entirely surprised. It’s already too late for Daigo to preserve his health—he knows that his liver’s already been pretty ruined from long nights of binge-drinking as a youth, and this job’s too stressful to withhold from vices like smoking and drinking, without an optimal end-goal. So he walks over to the window, cracks it open a little, and lights up.

The breath of nicotine curls over his body, a tender caress, and Daigo feels his shoulders drop, as the relaxation hits. He pulls off his cufflinks, tosses them into his pockets and rolls up his sleeves. He takes it slow, runs his fingers over his skin a little more than strictly necessary. Surreptitiously checking the reflection in the window, Daigo watches Mine watch him, and smirks at how intense that gaze is, how Mine’s mouth has opened, and Daigo can just see the soft pink of his tongue.

“Dojima’s just fine, you know. When it’s just us two.” Daigo says, turning over his shoulder. He smiles, one of those charming smiles that had always gotten him whatever he wanted as a child, “We’re same-aged friends, after all.”

“Dojima-san.” Mine acknowledges, after a brief pause.

Daigo turns around, to properly look at Mine and lifts an eyebrow. “Dojima. Or Daigo, preferably. Dojima-san’s always my father in my head.”

Mine nods, face impassive. Daigo can’t read him like this. Maybe that’s why he likes when Mine stares at him, filled with longing. At least then, Daigo feels like he knows him. In moments like these, his implacable gazes might as well be a brick wall. “Right. Your Father was also in the Tojo Clan.”

Daigo smiles, wryly, and blows out a puff of smoke. “One of the most horrible men I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting—and I had to call him Father. But damn if he wasn’t good at the job.” He sighs and stubs the cigarette out against the ashtray. “...sometimes feel like I’m competing with his dead spirit. Everybody’s looking at me and wondering if this is what my Father would do. Or what Kiryu-san would do.”

“You’re doing better than any of them.” Mine says, immediately, with a vicious ferocity that Daigo wasn’t expecting. He can’t quite stop his eyebrows rising in surprise, and Mine straightens upwards, looking self-conscious immediately. Daigo regrets his instinctual reaction, immediately. “That is to say, Dojima, that I think that you’ve pulled this Clan into somewhere far more respectable. From what I’ve heard of your Father, he didn’t have the temperament to do proper business on this level—too insistent on formal obeisance and unable to be flexible as the times require. And Kiryu-san might be very honourable, but we are yakuza. There are certain things you have to do as a Chairman, that he couldn’t bring himself to do. But you are practical and do what is necessary, while also not overstepping into excessive violence. You are uniquely suited for this job, Dojima.”

...he’s taken aback a little, he can’t deny it. Daigo wonders if his cheeks are colouring, wonders if his obvious shock is offputting, wonders if this is how Mine feels every time Daigo teases him lightly about his obvious attraction. A startling warmth spreads through his chest, and Daigo can’t stop the slight smile that touches his face. Has anybody ever said something so unreservedly kind and measured about Daigo before?

Maybe this is the difference between everybody else’s gazes on him, and Mine’s gaze. It’s based on something more than desire alone. Respect.

Daigo runs a hand over his slicked-back hair and ruffles it free, with a rueful smile, a smile that he couldn’t take away from his face, even if he tried. “I appreciate that. You know I couldn’t do it without you, right?”

He’d never really believed himself capable of attraction to a man like Mine. All of his previous childhood crushes had been on bright, cheerful conversational, pure-hearted people. Daigo had always figured they would balance out his sardonic cynicism. He’d never thought someone as reserved and principled as Mine would ever make his heart flutter. But then, there was something about that deep hunger and passion that Daigo craved. Perhaps it was because he was no longer the gloomy punk of his youth. Maybe his tastes have changed towards tall, dark and handsome. Maybe Mine’s just that special.

“Dojima—” Mine says, clearly trying to refute it, but Daigo cuts him off.

“I mean it. Everybody in this fucking Clan wants me to do something or be somebody else. Kashiwagi-san wants me to be my mother. Majima-san wants me to be Kiryu-san. Everybody else expects my Father. But not you. You deal with me honestly, and with candour, and never hold any expectations against me except success. I appreciate your faith in me.” Daigo takes a couple of steps forward, until his shoes almost brush up against Mine’s own. He leans down over Mine’s chair. “I could not do this without your backing and help. Truly. I don’t think I’ve ever had someone like you in my life. A true friend.”

Mine tilts his chin up to meet Daigo’s gaze, a hungry devotion in his eyes, and Daigo, for a moment, wonders if this is wrong. If he should hold back, like Kiryu would. But Daigo is Daigo, and Mine clearly wants him anyway, so he leans down and kisses him.

Mine’s mouth is velvety smooth and wet and hot and it is oh-so satisfying a feeling to put his hand against Mine’s broad neck and feel his warmth up against Daigo. He pulls back, with a satisfied sigh, and feels the burn of wasabi across his lips, a final parting kick.

[hifumi-gigolo]

Another interesting thing about host/hostess culture in Japan is that a lot of little girls look up to them, seeing them as role models and princess-type figures, but the majority of hostesses (including top ones) have said that why they wouldn't discourage anyone chasing their dreams, the excessive drinking and long nights is so harsh on their body and mind, that they'd feel bad watching someone they loved get into the business. When popular gyaru model Emiri Aizawa retired from her hostess job to persue a career in design and continue her modeling work, she admitted that while she was thankful for the memories of her career, she was hoping to gain more of her life back and feel energized again. This goes for a ton of male hosts as well!

So yeah it's definitely a loophole lol, there's no way Hifumi could be so bubbly by now 😅

Oh and abt tags sure!! Idk what to use lol I go by Ness on shinjuku divi and most of my blogs so that works as a name, as for an actual tag I'm just gosh awful at thinking of those 😅

thank you for the info<3

Hifumi really might be hiding more than we might think...

[kuromitos]

A man's job is hard to do when your pretending to be one

Summary: After tragedy strikes her life,Kurumi Minami takes it upon her to improve herself by getting stronger, she does it by joining the shinsengumi. Only problem? She's have to pretend to be a man.

Pairings: Gintoki Sakata x OC, Toshirou Hijikata x OC

WC: 1k

A/N: hope you enjoy this one!

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 3: Never take advice from guys with bad perms

In the middle of kabukicho district, right up above a hostess bar is a business that goes by the name of 'odd jobs gin-chan' run by a zombie man named Gintoki Sakata with two other people working under him,one of those workers is young teenage boy whose house I'm staying at, where they will do any job for the right price.

Except helping someone get a damn job that is really important to them apparently.

I stared at the walking corpse of a boss with wide eyes for a second hoping I heard him wrong.

"Umm… I'm sorry. What did you say again?" " I said no." Ah. I heard him right. "... Shinpachi? This is the place you wanted to take me right?" "Yes it is Aiyama-san" with that conformity from Shinpachi I turned quiet for a minute before asking a question to Sakata. "Sakata-san? Can I ask why you won't do my request?'' Without much hesitation, he answered me. " I just don't want to" and just like him, without hesitation I punched him in the face. Almost knocked him out.this guy crossed the line now, first he calls me country bumpkin, make fun of my choices, now he's denying my job request for a bullsh*t reason. He needs to go down.

I stood above him with my fist clenched, ready to do it again and kill this dead eye bastard but I need some answers first. And it looks bad to get arrested by my future employer. "What the hell do you mean you don't want to? You honestly think I'm just going to accept that as an answer. You better give me a better answer than that if you want your teeth intact, you walking dead wannabe bastard." I said to him while raising my fist up like I'm about to hit him again and I'm all for that.

But before I can even consider the action, Shinpachi grabs my arm and tries holding me back from hitting his boss. Keyword is try cause he is not that stronger than me. "Aiyama-san calm down! Please calm down,I know what he said was bad but trust me there is an actual reason for why he didn't accept your request!" "Gin-chan! I'm back from shopping"

A new voice suddenly appeared in the room that made both Shinpachi and me turn our heads towards the door that had a young girl with bright orange hair and strange hair ornaments while wearing a red cheongsam with bags in her hands. Who's the kid? "Ah! Kagura-chan, you're back! We have a customer!" Shinpachi said as he let me go slowly, realizing I'm no longer in a murderous mood. "Aiyama-san, this is the other employee here. Her name is Kagura." Kagura looked at me for a minute and then turned her head towards her semi conscious boss on the ground. "I'll put this stuff away." She walked away from us into a different room. A Few minutes had passed and she came back to the room chewing on what looks like seaweed, seats on the same couch gintoki was on while stepping over him too. I bet the idiot did or say something stupid right? Don't worry about him anymore cause I'll be taking your request now." Huh? This kid is taking it now? This got to be a joke. "Umm..you will? Just how old are you-``''doesn't matter! I'll take the job and do a better job than that white pe" a hand-smacked kagura on the back of her head that shut her up. Seems like the undead is walking again. "Shut up you brat!" Gintoki said as he sit back on the couch.

I glared at the man who was lazily picking his nose and then flicked it somewhere. He must have sense my deadly stare caused without even opening his eyes. He said to me "keep glaring at me all you want, my answer is going to change.'' Even hearing that I just keep glaring at him. I'll admit i'm acting more like a kid then the actual kid in the room but this guy is being a straight up asshole to me. "The least you could do is give me a reason why you won't." 'I already gave you one didn't i?.'' Screw it, I'm murdering him. Shinpachi grabbed my fist before I could punch his boss again. "Gin-san. You have a better reason than that. Please I don't think I can hold her back much longer." Shinpachi said trying to both help me and keep his boss alive, not sure if it's working since Gintoki just turned his head away from him pretending to not hear him. "Hey listen to me!" He turns his eyes back to me and sighs. "You want the real reason? Fine it's because what youre doing is stupid idea." Huh? Stupid? "You came all the way here so you can join the Shinsengumi and yet you stay at some random stranger's house,have no money and don't even know how to get in? Sounds like you just did this on a whim. Didn't even think about it. Have you considered what you do if you can't get in? Are you just going back home or staying here? You haven't have you? You're just an impulsive kid chasing a pipe dream and I want nothing to do with it."

After hearing all that, I couldn't really argue. I mean he is right. May have thought about doing this for a long time but I never actually thought about it . Everything that happened so far is just pure luck on my end and this guy can see that. No wonder he won't help me. But I'm here now and I'm not easily swayed.

"Beside just looking at you I can tell they won't let you in. So small and swarny almost like a woman. Won't be surprised if they mistook you for one." okay now he is reading me too well. "Bet you never even held a sword before." "Then teach me." "Huh?" I stand up from the couch and cross my arms to show some confidence in my stance, hoping I can fool him. "I'll admit that my plan to come here was on impulse but when I start something I always finish it no matter what. I came here to Edo to join the shinsengumi and I'm going to do it. I came here for help and I'm not leaving till I get it. Since you won't help me get in the Shinsengumi, help me get ready for them. Considering you said I'm so small and scawy. Teach me to be manly so they won't turn me away." I said to him with a determined look on my face to show I'm not backing down. "Also teach me how to use a sword." I added on while looking at his wooden sword. He glared back at me for a minute before saying "fine. We take your request." The moment I heard that my mood instantly changed. I smiled happily at him and uncrowded my arms. "Really you will? Thank you" yes I did it. I'm finally getting somewhere. Maybe this guy isn't too bad. It seems like he was just testing me but now that I stand my ground he'll help me.

~~

"Welcome to Kagura's crash course on how to be more manly!"

What the hell is this??

Taglist: @y-uuta @daynada @shiroyeesha

[haifengg]

The Dutch Room - Chapter 5

Find all chapters here!

The people working at Panoma were as different as they could possibly be. There were only a few things they all had in common and one of these things was the love for Barbara. Pretty much every Panoma employee was coming here at least twice a week and it wasn’t just because the place was run by their close friend Taeil but also because Taeil was offering the two most appealing things humankind knew about: Booze and Girls.

Even though the ladder only appeared to about 95% of Panama's personnel, at least one half of the 5% was a regular at Barbara herself and June was in no way inferior to her male colleagues.

Perhaps she liked Barbara for other reasons than maybe Doyoung or Johnny but she liked it. The money they spend on girls, she invested in drinks. Every time she came here she remembered how important this was to her. Just like now.

Taeil was part of the Panoma team from the very beginning. In fact he had already been there when June joined the company so wasn’t really able to tell how he got there or what he was doing before he became a male madam. All she knew was that the lady who used to run the place was the actual Barbara but she never got to meet her just once.

That in mind June sometimes wondered what the place had looked like before it was passed on to her friend. The premises were located on the first floor above a copy shop a few blocks from their office. Which made it reachable and a place to go for a drink after work. Or for something else to do after work.

Taeil once told her that he refurbished the whole space except the bar. According to him it was hard to arrange the counter, drinks and shelves in an actually effective way and when he first started working here it was the first thing catching his attention: How easy it was to operate behind the counter and how everything was at the most ideal place possible. So he decided to keep it this way and it remains the same until today.

“I heard you helped out the big boss.” June stated, sitting on one of the high stools, stirring in her drink.

Taeil just showed up again after picking something off the floor. “Pardon me?”

She chuckled. “I said: I heard you helped out Jaehyun with something?”

He grinned. “Please, you don’t need to act as if you don’t know. I’m aware he’s telling you everything.”

June shrugged. “Not everything.”

“You know, even though Doyoung is officially his boy for everything and Johnny’s acting as his right hand, you’re the one he tells things.”

“Speaking of which-” June turned around as she spotted Doyoung from the corner of her eye. “There is our boy for everything!”

She grinned at him widely, watching him approaching with a woman closely following him.

“How’s it going pal?” June asked and thrived on the annoyed look he responded with.

Doyoung might not like being teased but if he would be serious about that he surely wouldn’t make it so damn easy for her.

“You do remember you have work tomorrow? That means getting out of bed on time.” She reminded him, her voice raised, as they walked past her.

Doyoung didn’t stop as he answered “You just go fuck yourself.” and disappeared with his usual hostess to the usual room.

June scoffed and mumbled into her glass “I would still be doing a better job than any guy I had lately.”

Taeil laughed. The Panoma people not just became friends to him, after years of being loyal customers, but some of them turned this place into his home away from home. And June was one of the people he got so close with he would consider her a sister.

“To answer your question: Yes I did.”

She looked up. “Did what?”

Taeil sighed and leaned forward. “I helped out Jaeyhun with this problem of yours.”

“So I was right. He didn’t tell me anything but I had a feeling.”

“Someone had to. Your boyfriend left quite a void we had to fill. That was some hell of a talk we had the other day and I’m glad we came up with something.”

June’s lively vibes died the second Taeil not only mentioned Lucas but also called him her boyfriend. She hated it when people knew better and still don’t care.

“He wasn’t my boyfriend. How many times do I have to tell you? I thought you would especially get it.”

“Why?” Taeil scoffed and handed a drink to one of his employees. The woman had just walked up to the bar and left with the drinks in her hand, without wasting a thought about the two of them or what they were talking about. “Because I own and run a hostess bar I would know about you don’t catch feelings for anyone?”

“Yes?”

“Honey, exactly because I do what I do and see what I see I know how it looks like.”

Now it was her turn to scoff. “And that makes you an expert about what I feel?”

“I didn’t say that. It’s just that I saw how you were letting yourself go just a little bit. People who didn’t know you wouldn’t have noticed.”

“But you do know me, huh?”

He smiled. “I imagine I know you quite well. I learned a lot about you the past few years and I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“Well”, June said and chugged the last bit of her drink: “I’m sorry to tell you you’re mistaken if you think i could actually have cared about Lucas.”

She got up and grabbed her purse. “The only thing I cared about by that time was how the hell we were going to fix the catastrophe he caused and how we would be able to pull off everything we’ve worked for. To think a man - no - a fling was more important to me than the actual cause is foolish of you and you should know better. Good night.”

***

He dearly enjoyed her presence.

In this place of dozens of women it seemed to him as if she was the only sane one.

Compared to some of her coworkers she wasn’t actually pretty in a way which only meant she wasn’t hitting every single beauty standard society had come up with.

But she was ticking all the correct boxes for him. Her face was symmetrical but it looked like someone started to draw a portrait with a lot of motivation but lost track halfway through the process. And she knew that.

But instead of trying to cover it up or undergo plastic surgery she wore it with pride. Anong was never wearing heavy make-up and at some point Doyoung wasn’t sure if she even knew how to put it on.

In any case: He prefered her this way. Natural and approachable.

He was seeing her for almost 2 years every time he visited Barbara and he enjoyed her company up to this day. She made sure to always book the very same room beforehand when she knew he was visiting. Anong could sense how important consistency was to him.

“You know I’m discreet.” She said carefully and sat up. Anong never bothered to cover up her chest with the sheets or anything. Doyoung had once asked her about it and by that time she just laughed it off, replying that he had seen it anyway so why bother? Doyoung nodded at her question, calmly smiling and responded: “I know. That’s why I like you.”

“And you also know I am not into gossip. At all.”

He nodded again. “I know.” By now he could sense something was weighing heavy on her shoulders and he was impressed how well she hid the entire time they spent together this evening.

Anong rubbed her arm and avoided his eyes for a sheer second before taking the courage to ask:

“I am not asking this for myself but” She looked up meeting his gaze. “why has Lucas not been around for a while?”

Doyoung pushed parts of the sheets aside to sit up a little bit more straight. “What do you mean exactly?”

She tugged her hair behind her ears with both hands and took a deep breath.

"I'm asking this for two of the other girls. They are worried.”

“Honestly” He put up his hands. “I don’t know anything about his habits and who he is seeing.”

Anong sighed. She could sense how his mood changed, even though his face didn’t and immediately regretted having brought it up. But she had no choice.

“That’s not what I mean. You know some of us have children who they have to provide for. Those girls, the ones he was seeing, they’re struggling. So bad. And I need to tell them something. They know I am seeing you regularly so they keep asking me. They are my friends, please.”

The bagging tone rang out and made Doyoung get up and reach for his clothes.

“I can’t tell you anything about work.” He said terse as he pulled up his pants.

“I know but -"

“I can’t tell you anything about work.” He repeated with more emphasis and turned around. “If I were them I wouldn’t wait for him, there are plenty of other men out there.”

Anong looked him directly in the eye and understood what he was saying to her even if he didn’t exactly put it into words. She also knew that he wasn’t mad at her in any way. He understood she had to ask and she understood that he couldn’t talk about it. His job was at stake. Maybe more.

She watched him putting on his remaining clothes and eventually got up on her knees to check his tie. The rooms at Barbara didn’t have any mirrors for some weird reason so this became their little ritual because he hated looking sloppy.

As he walked up to the door she carefully asked: “You got nothing to do with it, right?”

Doyoung turned around, one hand on the door nod. “You know what I do for a living.” Then he paused, taking in the picture of the naked woman sitting on the disarranged sheets. This flawed woman that eventually got under his skin without him planning on it.

“You’re not one of the ones with children, right?”

Anong smiled softly. “You know what I do for a living.”

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