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zozowrites · 17 days ago

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The Game (Fancy Pants part 2)

Paige Bueckers x actress!fem!oc Ava Radmall

Words: 4.5k

TW: religious services (church)

A/N: so I originally meant for this to be a little filler chapter buttttt ended up putting two together and adding my version of plot (there won't be too too much in this series, I'm doing my best tho).

Ava

It’s raining when I go to pick up my mom from the airport. I get out of my spunky little blue car to hug her hello and put her bag in the trunk. Then we stop at Whole Foods for the list of foods she needs to buy (which I tried to buy ahead of time but she insisted we go together, apparently it doesn’t “feel the same if she doesn’t look at it first”).

In the parking lot I ask her to stop and turn around and catch her in such an aesthetic picture where she’s holding a bag under each arm bundled in her bright red raincoat with a slight rainbow in the background. I post it to my Instagram story and caption it “Mama and me <3”

We get back to my place and start to put the food away when I get a text from an unknown number.

I can’t help but smile slightly at the fact she’s texting me.

Hey ava it's paige

cam gave me ur number hope it's cool

Hi Paige

It's cool dw

ok phew

how long is ur mom in town?

Until Jan 3, why?

does she like the lakers?

Are you wanting to take my mom on a date to a lakers game?

no no chill

she's pretty tho

Thanks??

lemme try again

does ur mom like the warriors AND CAM

I guess, why

do you have nye plans

Probably not, why

ok im getting cam lakers tickets for us for her bday

if you guys wanna join

Well you could've just said that, silly

well it was more fun this way, silly

At that I put my phone face down on the island to find my mom staring at me from across the counter, eyebrows raised.

“Who ya texting?” She asks, always one for hot goss. Or prying questions.

“Just a friend.” I answer, but I know I’m not controlling the upturn of my lips of blush of my cheeks very well. Yes I’m an actor but this is my mom, the woman who single-handedly raised me.

“Okaaaaaay,” She extends the word and turns back to re-organizing the contents of my fridge, probably knowing that this is the move that never fails.

“I met Paige Bueckers at Cam’s Christmas party and she just asked if we want to go to a Laker's game for Cam’s birthday with them on New Year’s Eve.” I spill the beans. After being met with her silence, I add, “I think we’re gonna be friends!”

“And what did you say?” My mom asks, not turning away from the egg shelf she was inspecting.

I slip into one of the stools at the hightop counter, swinging my feet in the air. “I said I’d get back to her. Do you want to go?”

“I love CamCam, of course I’ll go. If she’ll be alright with me there, of course.”

“Oh don’t even pretend, we both know she likes you more than me.”

She sets down the butter that she’d moved on to and comes to stand behind me, running her hands up and down the sides of my arms.

“I’m sorry sweetie,”

“No you’re not.”

“Yeah, no I’m not.” She says and laughs.

My doorbell rings at 6:30 pm on Christmas Eve and I open it to find Ellie, my neighbor, just as expected. The twelve year old smiles at me as I let her in and wave to her mom, driving off to her shift at the hospital.

We do our secret handshake (three fish slaps back and forth before a faked out high five) and she asks if my mom is here yet. When I tell her yes, she drops her backpack at my feet and bounds up the stairs from my entryway to the open-concept living space.

“Sarah!!” I hear her shout before I can hear the impact of her jumping into my mom’s arms. I sigh to myself with a smile and bring the backpack up the stairs to place in her guest bedroom.

I met Ellie and her mom Jules when I first moved in two years ago and got really close with them. Ellie walked my dog Frankie on my long set days and I watched Ellie during the summer on my off days and she slept at my house when her mom was working night shift. Like on Christmas Eve. Only last year when my mom visited for Christmas did we discover that we actually share the same runaway dad. It was an interesting Christmas morning to say the least.

“Are we ready to commence the second annual Great Christmas Competition?” My mom asks, putting on her low rumbly announcer voice. Ellie squeals, already set up at my dining room table.

We pull out hot glue guns and our bags of candy and graham crackers and start building our gingerbread houses. My mom finishes way before our half hour timer is up, so she takes a spoon to the pink icing tub, dying her mouth a brighter color. Then we move onto cookie decorations, where she’s more interested in eating the cookies than decorating them. Through both heats, Ellie is so focused she doesn’t say a word. And she wins, of course. We wouldn’t just let her win, but she’s a creative genius. Even if she wasn’t a kid she would still be winning.

Then we move on to reindeer races (I win), Christmas karaoke (my mom wins), and snowman making (Ellie wins). Since she wins the tournament, she gets to pick the movie to cap off the night, and we settle on the couch to watch Elf.

Around halfway through I pull my phone out to text Paige.

What's your Venmo and how much for the tickets?

Her response is immediate. For some reason, that makes me smile.

don't even think about venmoing me bc i'll just send it right back

Don't make me go ask Cam

don't do that either I'm deadass

20 bucks says I can guess it right on the first try and if not you'll tell me

I don't think you understand how bets work

They way I see it it's a win win

uh yeah for u

What, you don't want me to win?

not if it means I lose, no

Don't make me write you a check

I'm not gonna honor that with a response

I put my phone away and try to refocus on the movie when Ellie leans on my shoulder, her soft brown hair falling into my lap.

Christmas morning comes and goes. I spend it with my mom and Ellie, and Jules brings over Ellie’s presents from Santa when she gets back from her shift. She sleeps on the couch as my mom and I make breakfast, or she sleeps as much as she can before Ellie comes running in.

Later in the day my mom finds a church service for us to attend, because apparently my five o’clock Episcopalian service wasn’t good enough for her. The church is small and charming, the service taking place in a gym of an old school that was turned into a community center. The congregation is very friendly and I spend half the time making faces at the baby in front of me.

The next Sunday we return to the church for a regular service, and to my surprise, I spot a certain blonde in a middle row. I walk my mom towards her, and she turns and seems to have a similar look of surprise on her face.

“These seats taken?” I ask. She shakes her head with a smile.

“All yours.”

I introduce her to my mom and she shakes her hand, very formal. TikTok isn’t wrong, she definitely has good rizz. During the community time she’s asking us about our holiday and how my mom is liking LA right now. She brings up the Lakers game.

“I’m assuming you know Cam since she roomed with Ava in college, right?” Paige asks.

“Oh, do I know Cam. I adore Cam. She used to come on vacation with us sometimes.”

“We always joke that Cam likes my mom more than she likes me.” I say and pretend to pout. Then the community time ends, and we move on to the sermon.

After the service ends we help stack up the chairs and push them to the side.

“This is only our second time here, do you know any good brunch spots around?” I ask Paige as we descend the stairs to the exit. She tells us about a bookstore cafe around the corner, and my mom insists she join us.

Fifteen minutes later, we settle into our seats and the navy blue bookshelves behind Paige perfectly compliment her slick back blonde bun. I’m sitting across from her at the table, and I let my eyes travel down from the bun to the slope of her purple cardigan over her shoulders, crisp white t-shirt underneath a great contrast. On our walk here I had to really focus on keeping my eyes away from the way her legs looked so juicy in her simple black pants.

I finally rip my gaze away from her to look at the menu. Then I look to my mom, who was watching Paige through her menu. I resist the urge to look back at Paige, because I can already feel her eyes on me. It makes heat rise throughout my body, and I untuck the hair from behind my ears to shield my neck, which I can feel is probably blushing.

Thankfully the waiter arrives, and we order our food. Then we resume being normal human beings, and partake in normal conversation. How Paige is doing on the team. The press tour I’m about to start and the next round of auditions. What my mom does as an elementary school art teacher. We discuss Cam a good bit, and her impending nuptials.

When our food arrives we play roulette, where we rotate the dishes through the three of us at random. Thankfully, Paige is understanding of my mom’s shenanigans. I excuse myself halfway through under the guise of using the restroom, but really I find the waitress and cover the bill. My Asian dad may not have stuck around or been a decent guy, but there’s some things that may just be nature.

I come back to my mom and Paige chatting, and apparently she was telling Paige an embarrassing story of me from childhood. Just great.

“Yeah she like didn’t talk until she was like four. But she would point. Her two words were ‘puppy’ and ‘soccer.’” My mom tells her and Paige smiles.

“Aw that’s so cute, my younger brother Drew did that too,” Paige responded. I pulled out my chair to sit back down with a squeak. “My step-mom always claimed that it was because Drew had me to interpret for him so he didn’t need to talk since I was fluent in Drew.”

It makes my mom laugh which makes me smile. Paige is good.

Our waitress comes back and my mom asks for the check, so she lets us know it has “already been taken care of.”

My mom fake scowls at me, and Paige gives me a look I can’t quite decipher.

Paige

I open my phone to call Azzi, but for some reason my fingers hover over Ava’s contact instead.

u didn't have to do that u know

Do what?

buy brunch

I think the words you're looking for are "Thank you, Ava"

Thank you, Ava

You're welcome, Paige

The way she texted my name had the same effect on me as her actually saying it. I can see the way her lips wrap around the P of my name in my head. I need to send something to change the mood.

ur mom is cool

Ok ew don't text me that

I don’t know what to say because “sorry” doesn’t sound quite right. I’m not sorry. I do think Ava’s mom is cool. And pretty. I know where Ava gets her beauty from.

Turning the the other side of the couch I had flopped down on five minutes ago, I pick up Aziz’s call instead of trying to craft a lackluster response to Ava.

“Yo, what’s up?” I ask her.

“Please tell me you don’t answer the phone like that with other people.” She sighs in response.

“This is just for you, Az.” I chirp in response. “But seriously, what’s been going on with you? How’s Dallas?”

“Eh, Dallas is Dallas, like always.” She says. “Practice is practice. Life is life.”

“Well you don’t sound very enthused,” I noted. “What’s going on.”

She sighed, even longer this time. “Just worrying about my offseason training, nothing new. I want to hear about what’s been going on with you. How was Cam’s party?”

I almost don’t want to answer about the party, because I know that means bringing up Ava, and for some reason there’s a part of me that wants to keep her to myself. Like she’s too special to share.

But that’s ridiculous. I shake my head and answer her truthfully.

“Wait what!?” Her gentle voice somehow screeches through my phone speaker, and I place her on my living room table so I can stretch my arms over my head.

I let myself laugh along with her. I know. It’s almost ridiculous. I’m crushing on a movie star. Who’s also smart and pretty and athletic. Who I have no idea if she likes me back.

Azzi sighs yet again. I make a mental note to wear her down until she tells me what’s really going on. Because I know something is. She’s my best friend.

“I have to go,” She says. She sounds miserable. “I miss you. I love you!”

“Love and miss you too, Az.” I say and she hangs up. I turn onto my back and close my eyes, letting the silence of my apartment envelope me.

I knock on what I hope is the front door of Ava’s townhouse. It’s white and modern. She has a nice yard and a single potted plant by her door. There’s a pumpkin on the step and I’m scared of how long it’s been there.

The knock earns me no response, so I ring the doorbell. I hear it reverberate through her house, and then an indecipherable shout and heavy thudding footsteps of someone running down stairs before the door is thrust open so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t hit the wall next to it.

A very frazzled Ava greets me, followed by the most adorable black Scottish terrier I’ve ever laid my eyes on scurrying behind her. I could never have imagined something could upstage Ava, but her dog definitely does.

I crouch down to pet the dog and it props its two front legs up on my knee, licking my ear. I don’t mind, and Ava seems too distracted to tell them to get down.

“Her name is Frankie,” She says, a fond smile flitting across her face. Her hair is half curled, and she appears to be wearing a full face of makeup with bare lips. “She really likes you, you know.”

Everything about this moment makes me smile. The way Ava looks effortlessly beautiful in her half-ready state. It feels too intimate for me to witness. I’m filled with an overwhelming amount of pride that her dog likes me.

“You look nice,” I offer, truthfully. It slips out. I didn’t mean to say anything too forward in my flirting or cross weird lines or make any moves or confusion. Yes, it’s hard when you compliment a (bitchy) straight girl when she knows you’re gay, but personally it has always been harder for me to compliment my also lesbian female friends. Weirdly, I’m not worried about how she’s interpreting it, but rather aim to stick the thought process in my mind to analyze later. How did I intend it?

Luckily, she just scoffs.

“Yeah, whatever, if you say so Paige. You look good.”

It makes me smile against myself.

“Thanks. But I mean it, you know?”

“I am obviously running behind,” She says, gesturing frantically with her hands. Another female voice calls for her from up the stairs, who I’m pretty sure is her mom. But now I’m concerned why the thought of it not being her mom is making me slightly jealous. Shit. I’m done for.

A red leash with pink hearts and a purple collar is placed into my hands as I stand.

“Do you mind walking Frankie quickly before we leave? I haven’t done it yet and I need to help my mom with something.” She makes a face when she says “something” that indicates she doesn’t really know what her mom called her for. “Usually just up and down the street is enough to get her to go, and there’s bags on the leash.”

I snap the collar onto Frankie as she thanks me profusely before trotting back up the stairs.

“Guess it’s just you and me, kid.” I say and lead her out the door. She lets out a huff of air.

I walk her up and down the block, Frankie trotting perfectly next to me. Of course a perfect woman like Ava has a perfectly leash trained dog. I walk her to the end of the street and back, trying to let all of my fast-paced thoughts go.

Seeing Ava like that felt like she was letting me in to a private part of her, for some weird reason. She doesn’t seem to me like the type of woman to pressure herself to always be put together, but I guess whenever I see her she is. She’s secure in those moments and she’s secure when I knock five minutes too early on her door.

Frankie and I make it back to Ava’s small front yard, and she gracefully stops in the grass to go to the bathroom. I grab it with a bag, not even surprised anymore about how perfect the dog is.

I open the door and wipe her paws and butt with a wipe from the pack decorated with paw prints on the shelf. Then I unclip the leash and hang it up, but stop, unsure of what to do next. Was it weird I let myself into her house? Probably not any weirder than walking her dog, right?

Thankfully I don’t have to think on it too long because she bounds down the stairs with her mom, and we’re off.

At the game we slide into our seats, Cam’s fiancé on the end and then her, Ava’s mom (since the two of them haven’t stopped talking since we picked up Cam), followed by Ava, and then me.

There’s a good amount of time before the game starts and Ava’s mom is still completely immersed in conversation with Cam. Which means lucky me gets to talk to Ava.

I turn to her, a plan forming in my mind.

“So tell me more,” I try to prompt her, and she turns to me from where she was staring off at the court, seemingly tracking the players warming up.

“Huh? What do you mean?” She says, her eyebrows creasing in confusion.

“Tell me more,” I say to her again. I struggle to hide a small smile fighting its way onto my face.

“I wasn’t saying anything, Paige.” By the way she says my name she sounds slightly displeased and it worries me, before I look her in the eyes, trained on mine already, and see the mischief gleaming behind them.

“Tell me more about yourself, Ava. So far I know you were Cam’s roommate, you went to Stanford, you played soccer. Midfield.” I echo the way she told me at the bar in Cam's yard that night. I see a smile creep onto her face, and my heart hopes it’s at the memory. “Your go to drink is a Shirley temple, you’re a Christian but once struggled with your faith, you’re gay,” I lean in towards her and whisper for the last one, before returning to normal. “You sleep like a rock, you’re gorgeous when you just wake up,” I pause, counting them all on my fingers. Maybe I’ll reach double digits at this rate. “You’re close with your mom, you like the Lakers-“

“So it seems like you know a lot about me already.” Ava cuts me off. Now it looks like she’s the one planning something. “What, specifically, would you like to know, Paige.”

The perfect opening to hit her with a silly, small talk first date get to know you question.

“Well, for starters, do you have any siblings?” I ask nonchalantly and shrug.

Ava snorts out a laugh that she tries to cover with the back of her hand.

“I have a sister. She actually lives next door to me. I only found out we were related a year after I moved in. She’s twelve.” Ava smiles so I smile back. Oh my, would I like to meet her sister. But oh my, would I like to kiss that smile more.

I shake the thought out of my head. Ava keeps talking, almost lighting up as she describes Ellie, her sister, and discusses her hobbies and interests, and the adventures she’s gotten to take her on at length. I really hit the jackpot with this question.

“I mean, technically she’s just my half sister, but-“

Now it’s my turn to cut her off. “It’s not different, I get it.”

“I don’t have a full sibling so I wouldn’t know how to compare.”

“With Drew my younger brother, he’s everything. We only share a dad, but we also share a soul, I just know.”

This makes her smile. She gets it. More importantly, she knows that I get it.

The lights lower and a loud rumbling voice begins to announce the happenings as players begin to run out from the tunnel. It pulls us from our conversation and we clap. I realize that we were practically turned in our seats to face each other because I have to turn back.

A few minutes in to the second quarter, I stand and declare it’s time for hot dogs. I turn to walk out of our row and Ava follows, claiming she’s getting up to “lend me a hand.”

As we wait in line, only a few people in front of us, she speaks and I have to forcefully drag my eyes away from the place they had been resting, looking at her perfect hands clad in dainty gold rings, perched over her stomach as she uses her left hand to twist the one on her right ring finger around and around and around.

“Ok my turn. But I’m not letting you off the hook with ‘do you have any siblings?’” She quotes me using a horrible frat boy impression.

I look up at her through my eyelashes, a smirk on my mouth. I quirk my eyebrows. “Is that really what you think of me?”

“Oh, you think I think about you?” she says smirking back. Flirting back! It brings the butterflies in my stomach into full torment mode. I will be remembering this moment for forever.

I open my mouth to say something but she lets out a huff of air instead and squares her shoulders. We’re moving on.

“Why basketball? I’m sure you played other sports as a kid, so, why basketball?”

I take a second to contemplate, gathering my thoughts before answering so I can be as sincere as Ava deserves.

“It’s the only place I felt at home. The flow state. It still takes hard work but it’s the only sport that just felt right. That just clicked.” I answer. Even though she looks like she’s listening, Ava doesn’t say anything in response. I take a deep breath and keep going. She knows I have more I could say, I guess. “It’s also what I clung to when my parents divorced. They told me during soccer season, so soccer was ruined for me. Then I had basketball to look forward to, basketball to focus on, basketball that wasn’t going to change. Basketball that I couldn’t ruin.”

The moment is heavy. Ava’s gorgeous brown eyes look into mine and I’m almost surprised when I see understanding instead of pity.

“Paige,” She says, placing a gentle, warm hand on my elbow. That’s her only response. Just one word. One simple touch. But she’s with it she's saying everything. She gets me and basketball just as much as I got her and Ellie.

We’re called up to the counter and order the hot dogs. She tacks on a few baskets of fries. When the screen tells us to pay she quite literally elbows me out of the way and uses her card as I’m reaching out for my own.

For a reason I wished I regret knowing, I don’t move farther back, and instead relish the brush of her hair against my shoulder, the scent of orange and vanilla lingering in the air now, and the sweep of her hip against the very top of my thighs as she grabs half of the food and turns back to head towards our seats.

The game is interesting, and Ava and I ease into a steady rhythm of trading quips or comments back and forth. I’m funny and she’s funny. A match made in heaven, I think to myself. Maybe I should stop thinking to myself.

At some point Ava’s mom stands up and announces she’s going to the bathroom. Her brown hair is wavy in the same way Ava’s is, but shorter. It looks just as soft and I catch myself wondering if it smells like Ava’s vanilla and orange.

“Which way is it, Paige?” Her mom asks me. I’m a little stunned why she would be asking me that until I realize it’s so that I come with her. Obviously she can find a bathroom by herself.

“Oh um let me show you,” I say and stand up from my seat, following Sarah out of the row.

When we’re out in the hallway I keep up the gesture of showing her where the bathroom is and point simply across the hall. I mumble a few nondescript words about it being “over there” since I’m really just waiting for her to say something.

“Thanks, Paige.” She says but doesn’t turn away. “So you and Ava.”

Her words hang in the air, turning the space around us thick. What about me and Ava? We’re friends? Can she see I’m flirting with her daughter? Does she want me to stop flirting with her daughter?

Suddenly she cracks a grin and lets loose a laugh so compelling that I just have to laugh with her. She reaches for my elbow just like her daughter did half an hour ago.

“I’m not grilling you at all, sweetie, sorry I just thought it would be fun to see you sweat.” She smiles to herself, her plan having obviously worked. “Anyways I was just going to tell you that she likes you. She’s probably just beginning to realize it now, but I know she does. I think you like her too since you haven’t stopped flirting with her ever, even in my presence.”

This makes me blush. Which, in turn, makes Sarah smile more.

“Just a word of warning, honey. You have to be really patient with her. If you act too soon you will scare her off, and I would really hate to see that. You two will be so good together. I suggest you wait for her to make the first move when she’s ready.”

I nod, taking this all in. Her mom thinks? Knows? That she likes me. And that I like her. And she wants us to get together. But from the sounds of it I need to wait for her to make the first move. Huh.

“And I know I cannot just ask you to wait or something. I’m trying not to ask anything of you, but rather tell you what I see in Ava. The flirting is good for her. Please don’t think I’m telling you to stop. I’m gonna work on her from my end, see what I can do.”

I don’t know what to say but Ava’s mom seems to know even that too.

“I’m almost sorry for dropping this on you. I’m gonna hit the bathroom, maybe consider a walk if you don’t want to return yet.” She says with a warm smile and I nod in response, turning to go for a short walk.

#paige bueckers #wbb #lesbian #queer #wlw #basketball #Paige bueckers x fem!oc #fanfiction #fanfic #christianity #church

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abromelon34105 · 8 months ago

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Here’s a snippet from Chapter 2 of For The Tainted Human!!

“Now where’s the president?” Jun’ichirō asks as he lowers his hand from his face. He really is doing his part well - he looks conflicted and angry to a T. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that he has his ability activated. It’s so out of character for him, I almost think he is an actual mad bomber. The weird silence that fell over the office is broken when he yells “BRING ME THE PRESIDENT!” He grabs Naomi and lifts her up from the back of her shirt. “If you don’t, I’ll blow everyone in this place to kingdom come!” He drops Naomi onto the ground, a little harsher than normal and I start talking to Kunikida, keeping my voice low. “Sounds like he’s got a personal grudge. That’s mighty inconvenient.”

“Agreed,” Kunikida said in the same quiet voice. Atsushi is sitting between the two of us, watching the scene with Jun’ichirō with fearful eyes. “Why’d you bring me here again?” he asks quietly, his voice a little shaky.

Kunikida continues as if he hadn’t heard the boy. “Based on what he’s saying, the bomber seems furious at the agency.”

“Honestly, I don’t think I can help you. May I go now?”

I start talking, speaking to Atsushi without addressing his question. “Because of the work we do, we attract a lot of unwanted attention.”

“Did you hear what I said?”

I nod at the bomb sitting beside Jun’ichirō on the desk. “That is a military grade high level explosive. If the bomber acts on his threat and detonates it, it’ll kill us and destroy the whole floor.”

“Oh, no…”

“But if we can find something to cover the bomb, we may be able to reduce the force of the blast. But given the circumstances…since he took her hostage, he’s not only mad, he’s insane.”

“Do you know who she is?”

“Naomi. She’s a part-time office assistant here.”

“She’s not even an agent?!” Atsushi keeps his voice down as he stares at me for a moment before turning back to stare at Naomi through the plants. “She’s just an innocent victim in this terrible mess.”

“So what do we do?” Kunikida asks me behind Atsushi. I slide a little closer to him so I can answer. “He wants to see the president, right? Why not just bring him here?”

“Are you insane?” Kunikida asks, and I can tell it’s taking a lot for him to stay quiet. He really is a great actor, despite how rigid he seems. I know I’m just as good, if not better. These kind of missions were my bread and butter. I shake my head quickly to dispel the memories. It’s not good if I get lost down memory lane right now. “He’ll try to kill the president! We can’t let the boss walk into a bad situation like this!” Kunikida sits back and adjusts his glasses, lowering his voice again. “Plus he’s off on a business trip.” We both know he’s not, he’s sitting in his office, watching the cameras to see how Atsushi does. This is one of the few tests that has taken place inside the agency, which probably makes it far easier for him to see what’s going on.

“Oh, right. I forgot about that,” I say with a short eye roll. “It seems there’s only one option…” I meet Kunikida’s eyes and he gives me a short nod as we both hold up a hand. Atsushi watches us, expectantly, and I can tell he thinks we’re gonna use our abilities.

Instead we throw out three games of rock-paper-scissors. We tie the first two, and Kunikida loses the third, as was originally planned. I laugh quietly as he makes a small show of getting mad at me, and I can see Atsushi staring at us, his face completely blank. He really has no idea what to make of us.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bungou stray dogs kunikida #bsd kunikida #kunikida doppo #bsd atsushi #atsushi nakajima #bungou stray dogs atsushi #bungou stray dogs chuuya #fanfic #au #armed detective agency

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bakingtherapy · 3 months ago

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Just Keep Baking #40 S'more Puppy Chow

Sul Sul, Gerbits! Today we are going to be making a recipe that is not gonna last in your refrigerator. No matter how many times I make this recipe with whatever ingredients the people in my house go wild. Both back when I was younger, and now. People just inhale these types of recipes. We are going to be making S’more Puppy Chow.

No, it is not actually puppy chow. It is not dog food. Please do not feed your dogs this. There is chocolate in this recipe, and I don’t want your dog getting really sick. Okay! It just got that name because it kinda looks like dog food. People also call it Muddy Buddies, but I grew up with being called Puppy Chow.

This is a really simple recipe. It will be in the description down below. Feel free to check it out.

The first thing you are going to do is combine the chocolate chips and the Nutella, or peanut butter.

Microwave for 30 Seconds. Add more time so that the chocolate is melted.

You want to stir each time so that you do not have any burnt chocolate. Keep a close eye on it.

In a large mixing bowl you are going to combine 4 cups of the Golden Grams and all of the Chex cereal.

Now you are going to mix 1 cup of mini marshmallows in the bowl with the cereal.

Pour the chocolate over the cereal, and mix until the cereal and the marshmallows are coated.

Sprinkle some powdered sugar over the cereal.

Fold in the rest of the Golden Grahams and the marshmallows.

The recipe says to spread the mixture onto a cookie sheet. However, I did not do this. I just put it directly in a Tupperware container, and then put it in the fridge.

This recipe was really simple, and really good. This is a good recipe to make if you or someone you know cannot eat the typical S’more.

They like S’mores but they just can’t eat them, for whatever reason. I hope that you all liked this recipe. Feel free to check it out in the description down below. Vadish, Dag Dag!

Show the original author some 💖💖💖 Champagne & Coffee Stains

Printable version of this recipe: on the blog

Feel free to support me on:

🐥Patreon 🐥 Kofi 🐥 Facebook 🐥 Pinterest 🐥

#baking #baking therapy #recipe sharing #sweets #dessert #baking blog #baking recipes #baking adventures #recipe #baker #baked goods #bakeblr

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drdepper · 2 years ago

Text

Harveston Kelkkarotu/Sledathon and Finnish representation🇫🇮

Hello!

Now that i've finally played through the whole event, i want to talk about all the finnish inspirations and representation i've found in this event, and there is a lot of it!

I'm finnish (Finland swede to be exact) myself why would i else be making this hehe

This is the most proper finnish rep i've ever seen aside from Lotte and her home in little witch academia. And to also make something clear, Sami rep ≠ finnish rep and vice versa, to not intertwine these two.

And before we start, because swedish traditions have as well been mixed into this event, i will be color coding anytime i'm talking about something Finnish and something Swedish

Alright lets get to it!｡･:*:

First thing's first, the name for this event that they used in the JP server, Kelkkarotu, is made up of two actual finnish words, Kelkka (sleigh, sled) & Rotu (race)

All tho the word rotu is a word used more for breeding, like ex. A dog race, while kilpailu would've been more appropriate for a sled race. Either way i think this was a really neat addition and am sad that it wasn't carried over to the EN server :,)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Mount Moln

The game is correct that the word translates to cloud, but moln is actually swedish, the word for cloud in Finnish would've been pilvi.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Marja

The name Marja means berry! But it is as well a pretty normal finnish name that you could find someone have.

I love meemaw Marja so much, she reminds me of my own grandma💙

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Kokko market

once again the translation is correct. Kokkon are usually seen around easter or midsummer, but can also been done off of those holidays.

It is also really common to find plenty of different home made sweets at the markets depending on what holiday or season is going on. As well as handmade wooden things, some more useful such as butter knives, spoons and cups, But also decorations or souvenirs.

I'm so happy they mentioned it as it was something i was NOT expecting.

within Finland (and a few other countries) we have a thing called jokamiehenoikeudet/allemansrätt/everyman's right. Which as Epel describes it you're free to roam public or private forests and nature, pick berries and mushrooms as well, but it all to be done respectfully of course. You are not to disturb the wildlife or nature by ex. being unnecessarily loud, breaking plants or trashing nature. i as well really love how Epel brought up when Grim wanted to go get some himself, that he was not gonna get squat from the villagers. Cus once berry and mushroom picking season is amongst us, it's on.

A user made a fantastic post Here listing each plant Jade mentioned, and safe to say every single one can be found in Finland (an other nordic countries). Seen them all myself too! (also who brought the nestle??)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Fika/kahvi

Even tho the idea of sitting down to enjoy some sweet treats originates from Sweden's fika, it is still very common within Finland as well!

we call it kahvi/kaffe and it's the same idea of sitting down for a cup of coffee with family or friends and enjoying some cookies and other goods. We usually do it on the weekends or free days in our family, or anytime we visit someone or vise versa.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Foods

As again, the sandwhich cake (voileipäkakku/smörgåstårta) originates from Sweden, you will still find it at ex. Finnish family gatherings, birthday parties or other events.

FISH SOUP!

Due to the amount of lakes an water that makes up Finland, fishing is very common here and so is the food. The most common type of fish soup that you'll have here is lohikeitto (salmon soup).

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Respect for the elderly/seniors

this is definitely a stretch on my part but still think it's fun to mention^^

in finnish we have a thing called 'Teitittely', it's hard to explain as it it is not used in the english language, but rather than directly referring to you (sinä) we use a more indirect 'you' (te) to show respect for our elderly and other occasions. If or once they would prefer the person to stop, they just need to request that there is no need to be as formal.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Pancakes

Again was very surprised out of all things that they referenced a type of pancake we have here (pannukakku which literally translates to pancake)

The pancakes that Epel is talking about look like this, and are put into the oven. it's hard to describe the texture of the inside, like a really soft sponge?

On the topic of pancakes~ i want to also mention the ones that we saw at Kokko market (that the bois mistook for takoyaki), all tho i have never seen or heard of pancakes being done the way they were in the event, during autumn or colder seasons if there is a market you will usually find at least one stall making flat (lettu) pancakes on a big pan!

which you can then buy and fill however you like. The most common fillings are apple- and strawberry jam, and/or whipped cream. And some even add sugar to them. People like to roll them up and either eat them by hand or cut in slices, kind of resembling a cinnamon roll.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Extra thoughts

I won't be commenting anything when it comes to the clothing, as it seems that they are loosely inspired by traditional Sami attire. And not being Sami myself or having any relations to it i am in no place to comment about the rep.

but the embroidery on the outfits are a really nice and familiar touch^^

The backgrounds were lovely and had a very cozy feel to them, but didn't find any particular reference or inspiration of note.

Even tho the mix up of swedish and finnish traditions most likely was an accident, aside from mount moln it still works in our favor! be that if Epel is finnish or hecc, even a finland swede!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

But thank you for listening to me ramble on about the rep, i was genuinely surprised on how MUCH of it there was in this. If you have any questions please feel free to ask and i'll do my best to answer!

take care everyone💙

#harveston event #harveston sledathon #twst harveston #twised wonderland #epel felmier #twst epel #twst sebek #twst jade #twst grim #twst marja #kelkkarotu #harveston kelkkarotu #suomi #finland #twst #FINNISH REP GO BRRRR

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furballfaggot · 8 months ago

Text

the creatures have spoken. here is the fully unedited successful recipe, save for a couple extra notes i made when i posted them on discord and some clarifications. additional notes and failed attempts under the cut. please tag me if you make these i wanna know what yall think!!!!!!!!!!!

gio treats mk3 -- unedited recipe, more info at the bottom

goal of gio treats: crunchy, tastes good, bone

mk2 advancements: better texture, somewhat more of a taste, actually a bit crunchy, thick enough to cut beforehand

mk3 goals: stronger flavor, proper crunch

1 1/2 cups all purpose flour

1 cup cornbread mix

2 tbsp butter, melted

1 tsp onion powder

1 tsp curry powder

1 1/2 cup beef brof (made with 4 bullion cubes) (note: bullion is deliberately spelled billion in the original text)

small amount of any nice herbs (added to broth -- strained out probably) (note: i used bay leaves and parsley just to keep it simple, but feel free to add whatever you want)

egg

pinch of salt and pepper (note: originally typed out as "pincha salt n peppy")

"enough pancake mix to make it stick again"

preheat oven to 375 faggotheit

roll dough onto flat surface and cut into bone

transgender to GREASED cookie sheet

poke 4 holes into each bone with toothpick (mostly for looks tbh)

bake until baked (bout 21 minutes)

let cool until cool (7ish minutes)

serves people*, probably

for storage keep in ziploc bag. for added effect make sure its one of those ones that can stand up on their own when theres stuff in em

for the past week ive been trying to make a human body compatible dog treat of sorts because I Am Dog And I Am Weird. this is the 3rd attempt, which worked out wonderfully. im going to make a thread for the notes ive got about this recipe as well as the 2 rejects from before after i send this message, so dont be alarmed by that. no real editing done aside from this note because i think its funnier this way and i wanna preserve the energy behind the whole endeavor. feel free to substitute anything you want in place of anything here -- the broth and cornbread mix are what give these their flavor, so if you want something that isnt savory you should start there. none of this was based on any preexisting recipes, i just thought of what makes baked things how they are and threw bullshit numbers at the wall for a while

mark 3 original baking notes:

- the cornbread mix definitely fucked with the consistency some. in my defense we ran out of all-purpose flour after the 1 1/2 cups i used

- added 3 bay leaves and a couple shakes of parsley into the broth and didnt strain it. the bay leaves were discarded but the parsley stayed

- number 1 most unsettling feeling in the world: picking used wet bay leaves out of cold beef broth

- pancake mix was used ONLY to get the dough to where itd possibly keep its shape. DO NOT use any more of it than you need to

- something in this batch is making the dough rise. pancake mix? cornbread mix?? self-rising flour i used on the cutting board and rolling pin??? hopefully it doesnt fuck things up too bad either way

- froze the other half of the dough for future use. for What im not sure but for something

- is melting the butter the way to go or should i just let it soften? much to consider. there are many such cases. etc etc

- it looks like they dont rise all that much actually. definitely not enough to be a major issue wrt: if they touch but no verdict on taste and texture just yet

- i will say they definitely *look* better when theyve risen a bit. just aesthetics wise

- im gonna load the dishwasher while these bake

- toothpick doesnt squish and comes out clean after being taken out of the oven. so far so gamer

mark 3 original tasting notes:

- oh fuck yes

- FUCK yes

- FUCK YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

- theyre just dry enough, just crunchy enough, and just flavorful enough. fuck YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- the perfect little treat -- not too much flavor, but not too little of it either. just dry enough to dissuade having too many at once and/or to encourage more frequent hydration

- the cornbread mix was the PERFECT addition

- the thinner ones are a little off i will say. a bit burnt i think? but still not horrible

- the beef and herb flavors are just present enough for me

- im gonna be real i was NOT thinking these would turn out so good but im not upset in the slightest. might try and make a sweet version at some point if only so i can use it for my party in july

- mother of god i wish i had an actual tail to wag rn. that thing would be goin at like warp speed. curse this human flesh

- would absolutely KILL with soup. i might make extra noodle soup just for this theory

gio treats mk2

goal of gio treats: crunchy, tastes good, bone

mk2 goal: savory??? strong flavor also. ideally can be cut into from the start, to minimize waste

2 1/2 cups all purpose flour

2 tbsp butter, melted

2 tsp onion powder

1 1/2 cup beef brof

egg

pincha salt

preheat oven to 350 faggotheit

spread onto pan

roll dough onto flat surface and cut into bone

transgender to GREASED cookie sheet

bake until baked (bout 25 minutes)

let cool until cool (10ish minutes)

serves people*, probably

mark 2 original notes:

- dough was VERY sticky. like "put flour on the workspace and the rolling pin or you will have made glue" levels of sticky

- looks like ive got the ratio down for the right consistency to roll and cut into shapes! they were still a little limp when i moved them from the cutting board to the cookie sheet but thats probably easily fixed with a quick chill

- going for a savory approach here. if it works i might see if i cant recreate this with other liquids and spices. and one eggs

- better?

- flavor is less faint than mk1 but still not really all that present. the onion powder didnt really do much tbh

- a little chewy still. tiel suggested cooking them at a higher temp so ill probably try that next

- probably fucks hard with soup though

- the onion powder is kinda overpowering tbh

gio treats mark 1

goal of gio treats: crunchy, tastes good, bone

1 1/2 cups all purpose flour

2 tbsp butter, melted

2 tbsp brown sugar

"an amount" almond extract

4 tbsp honey

1/2 cup milk

preheat oven to 350 faggotheit

spread onto pan

bake lightly until just coherent enough to cut into (4ish minutes)

use bone cookie cutters to make into bone shapes (depending on how well you spread them they may be difficult to keep coherent)

bake until baked (bout 23 minutes)

let cool until hardened at least slightly (11 minutes)

serves people*, probably

mark 1 original notes:

- theyre fine. nothin to write home about. not quite what i was hoping for but fuck it we ball

- theyre kinda chewy? i might have made them too thick. or maybe there wasnt a good enough balance in the batter. ill have to work on that next time

- the sanding sugar i quietly added to the batter did nothing for the crunch factor actually

- almond extract is definitely not the right flavor for this one. it bakes into a light and delicate blink-and-you-miss-it taste, but too much and it overpowers the rest of it

- why did i use honey again? flair? prissybitchism? it does nothing

- like, theres hardly ANY almond here. its a ghost within this thing

- maybe i didnt bake them long enough actually. maybe they need more time in the oven

- maybe beef flavored gio treats would be pretty good actually. wonder what they make dog treats out of. im gonna google that actually

- ok im back. milk-bone treats (the ones i like the aesthetics of) are made with wheat flour, meat flavors, and a whole lotta chemicals i dont wanna read rn. so it cant be too hard

extra post-success notes:

- the honey in mark 1 may have actually been detrimental to the treats as a whole. my guess is somewhere along the way they fucked with the consistency and made them so chewy

- "an amount" lol

- i cannot stress enough that you have to grease your baking sheet and flour your workspace holy shit

- can you tell the bulk of these instructions were written super late at night

- the slight rise of mark 3 is perfect actually. makes them nice and airy while still giving them a good crunch

- dont roll the dough too thin!!!!!! they will burn slightly and suck lotsly if you do that!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- i didnt have to pick the bay leaves out by hand

- but i did

- i was gonna pour the broth out anyways

- i did start a load of dishes and look up what milk-bones were made of when i said id do those things. just btw

- i did actually time those baking and cooling times with the stopwatch feature of my clock app! those are not easy estimates, i actually did those ones right

- if it wasnt for me running out of flour partway through mark 3 i would never have added cornbread mix. everyone say thank you to the flour bag being so pathetically tiny

ive been trying and failing for the past couple nights to make a Human Body Compatible dog treat from scratch and yes i KNOW i can just use my bone cookie cutters on any dough i want to but thats different to me. thats just bone-shaped cookies. i dont want that. what i want is something superficially resembling a milk-bone dog treat but made for people and also not with a buncha chemicals i cant read. ive got 2 attempts under my belt so far and i intend to try more. ill post those drafts eventually

#the pond #long post #even longer post under the cut #idk how to tag this oh gawd. uhhh these were made for therian purposes but arent exclusively for that? do i tag this as therian????????#gio treats recipe #<- fuck it. i guess

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hoboal87 · 3 years ago

Text

Shadow

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, OFCs

Warnings: Fluff, just soooo much fluff, brothers being brothers, kittens.

Word Count: 2600

Summary: Sam finds a stray kitten.

Hey! I've written something! The last five months have been kinda crazy, but I promise I have more things in the works. This fic is unbeta'd so please excuse my tense issues. A special thanks to @synmorite and @writethelifeyouwant for dealing with this absolute fluffy nonsense from me. This was meant to be a drabble... but it got away from me. Inspired by this post

My Masterlist

It started with just one kitten. Sam was out on his morning routine, when he spotted the kitten, hiding (poorly) in a bush next to the bunker. He approaches it slowly, high pitched cries filling the air. Sam searches for a mama cat, or even siblings, but the kitten appears to be alone and abandoned. It couldn't have been more than a few weeks old, and fit in the palm of Sam's hand. It was a little mangy, dark fur matted and gunk in its green eyes.

It purred as Sam held it close to him, the little thing had to be starving.He wraps the kitten in his sweatshirt, and makes the unwise decision to sneak the kitten inside. Once he has the stowaway safely in his bedroom he quickly opens his laptop and Google's 'what to feed

an abandoned kitten.' A small meow comes from the kitten, having unwrapped itself from the hoodie, and is now toddling across Sam's bed, clearly seeking his attention.

He sneaks into the kitchen, trying to find something that will satiate the kitten until he can get to a store and buy proper food. There's some canned tuna-- who knows how old it is but figures that's better than nothing. He thinks about getting some milk, but remembers from the search that cows milk is actually bad for cats, that water is better. He finds a saucer, Men of Letters had all kinds of china stashed away that he or Dean hardly used and scoops a bit of the tuna onto it, and fills a bowl full of water.

Dean eyes him suspiciously when they run into each other in the hall, but doesn't say anything. When Sam returns to his room, the kitten has made itself at home, curling up on his pillow, kneading the sheet, and purring loudly, well, he supposes this is his cat now. Dean's gonna be pissed, but his rules always involved dogs, not cats, Sam reasons, and puts the saucer and bowl on the bed, and watches as the strong aroma makes the kitten's head perk up, sniffing the air before clumsily making it's way towards the food, and chomping away.

"Guess we need to get you a name," Sam's wonders outloud to the kitten, who is currently focused on the food in front of it. "Shadow?" He tests, it's not that original, he knows, but what else could he name it, Snowball? He even looks through a pet name finder, but 'Shadow' is the only thing that seems to stick, and he figures it could work for a boy or girl.

A knock on the door startles Sam, and throws his hoodie back over the kitten in a desperate attempt to hide it. Dean's eyebrow furrows as Sam answers the door doing his best to make himself look like he's not done something wrong. Dean tells him that Jody's asked for some help on a case, a milk-run, but they've been going through an abnormal calm: they haven't had a case in weeks, and Dean has started to get antsy. Sam declines, he's enjoyed the quiet, plus, now he's got a kitten who needs him. Shadow nearly reveals himself by letting out a meow, and Dean seems to want to question Sam, when instead a loud, boisterous sneeze leaves him. Crap, Dean's allergic, Sam always thought he was lying about that.

"It's probably 'cause this place hasn't been cleaned in ages," Sam excuses. "Not since Mrs. Butters…"

"Yeah, well, it's not like we can hire a cleaning service," Dean sniffs.

Sam promises to clean from top to bottom while Dean's away, also formulating a plan to keep Shadow's presence a secret until he can figure out the right time to tell Dean. Dean says he'll be back in a few days, a week at most, and within a few minutes the roar of the Impala's engine fills the garage, and Sam knows he and Shadow are safe.

"You almost got us caught, buddy," Sam chuckles as he uncovers the kitten, small remnants of tuna cover the kitten's face, he scratches the top of Shadow's head, as he laps at the tuna still on the plate.

By the time Shadow's done eating, his little belly has rounded, and he climbs into Sam's lap as he continues researching, making lists of what he'll need to buy, and even starts looking into the local vets. He's glad he told Dean that he would stay behind when Jody called for backup on a case, he won't have to explain why he's suddenly bringing in loads of pet supplies.

He decides to bring the kitten with him to the pet store, figuring the workers may be more equipped with helping him get the right products to make sure Shadow is getting proper nutrition. The kitten curiously inspects the car when Sam sets him down inside, sniffing loudly and even pawing at the dangling keys as Sam starts the engine. Shadow eventually settles on his lap, quietly napping as Sam makes his way into town.

He pulls up to the pet store, and makes the realization that he has nothing to keep Shadow in while they buy supplies. He supposes that he could just carry the kitten, he only weighs a few pounds, if that, and he wasn't too squirmy, and figures that's his best option. The young girls are immediately in awe when Sam walks in with Shadow, the kitten letting out the tiniest of meows, clearly trying to bring even more attention to the pair.

He doesn't even know where to begin. Food he rationalizes is probably the best place, Shadow, as much as he seemed to enjoy the tuna, probably needs something with more nutrition, and Sam remembers one search telling that abandoned kittens, especially those who are extremely young, need formula. Sam stands in the aisle, overwhelmed by the choices, until a woman closer to his age sees the confused look on his face.

"You need some help?" Heather, the tag on her shirt reads, and Sam turns to show her Shadow, and proceeds to go on for nearly five minutes about how he found the kitten and doesn't know the first thing about taking care of a cat. When he finally takes a breath, Heather chuckles slightly, before showing him the basics. She gets him a small buggy, and helps him start to fill it. Formula and a syringe to feed him, wet food, dry food, food bowl, a fancy water bowl with a filter, a flea and tick bath after Sam tells her that as far he knows the kitten's only ever lived outside. She suggests gently wiping his eyes until a vet appointment can be made, and even gives Sam the local vets number.

They get to the section Sam was dreading most, litter boxes. Heather tells Sam that most kittens don't need much training to use the box, but expect a few accidents, especially once confirming that Shadow is, in fact, a boy. Heather then leads him to the toy sections, pointing out cat trees and other things that Shadow might have fun playing with. she even suggests that if Sam wanted to put in the time and effort, he could even train the kitten to eventually go on walks, though he thinks that may be a little too much.

By the time they're done, his cart is full, and Shadow has migrated from the crook of his arm, to being perched on Sam's shoulder, or at least he was until he lost his balance and made – what Sam felt had to be a terrifying for the kitten (and not for him) – six foot drop to the floor. Shadow just looked up at him and meowed as if he was saying "I'm okay!" The girl behind the checkout counter struggled to suppress her laugh as Sam coddled the kitten, shushing him and giving him soft pets, almost like he was calming an upset child.

Heather assures him that Shadow will be fine, that young kittens are a little wobbly on their feet and falls are going to happen. Sam offers a half smile to the girl behind the counter, making her blush, as he continues to fuss over the kitten.

An hour later, Sam's set up a cat tree in one corner of his room, a litter box in the other, and gave Shadow a bath. The kitten was skinnier than he thought, and he wondered how long he'd been alone outside. Sam rummages through the bag to find the kitten formula, Heather suggesting that he could use it to supplement Shadow's diet between portions of wet food. He carefully mixes everything together, and grabs a small bottle, and Shadow immediately takes it, suckling down the whole thing in only a matter of minutes.

That night, Shadow ignores the plush bed Sam bought for him, opting to lie down so that his head rested on Sam's shoulder, kneading him gently and purring loudly.

By the time Dean returns, Sam has unfortunately forgotten that his brother doesn't know about the kitten until he starts sneezing every five minutes.

"I thought you were going clean, Sam," Dean grumbles between sneezes. He had cleaned, but then Shadow decided to escape Sam's room, and honestly, it's a miracle Sam found him.

"I heard the pollen is really bad this time of year," Sam says, hoping that Dean will buy that it's something that he carried from Sioux Falls and not the kitten stashed away in his room. "Maybe you should wash all of your things again and see if that helps?"

"I was in Baby for 5 hours and didn't sneeze once, Sam. In fact, I felt fine until I walked into the library," Sam mentally berates himself, he and Shadow spent practically the whole day in the library yesterday. Shadow explored every inch, and even laid down on the table while Sam did research.

Another week goes by, and Sam, unbeknownst to Dean, had been slipping Benadryl into Dean’s eggs. Sam did his research, certain pet allergies can lessen or even go away once a person has had enough exposure (and he figures a few anti-allergens couldn’t hurt). Sam even lets Shadow roll around on one of Dean’s shirts when he’s gone. Sam hates keeping Shadow locked away but until he can acclimate Dean to the idea of a cat in the bunker, but until then, it’s Sam’s room only.

Dean’s been acting strange, Sam’s noticed over the last few weeks. Suddenly buying cans upon cans of Tuna, something Sam knows he hates. Sam never sees the tuna being eaten, and yet one by one the cans disappear. Maybe he’s sneaking into Sam’s room and feeding Shadow when Sam’s not around? Maybe this is Dean’s way of telling him that he’s figured out about Shadow, but is too stubborn to say anything. After a second shopping trip, again returning with an obscene amount of tuna, Sam decides to call his bluff.

“Here,” Sam slides the tuna sandwich over to Dean. “I always thought you hated tuna, but you’ve been getting so much of it lately, I must’ve been wrong all these years.” Dean eyes the sandwich warily, they both know the only thing he hates more than tuna is turkey bacon, and Sam’s sure that he would rather eat that than admit that he knows and has been taking care of the kitten in Sam’s room.

“I’m good,” Dean excuses, though they both know there’s only one way out of this particular situation. “I just– I figured it’d be good to have more shelf-stable food around here. Never know when the fridge could break or the power could go down…”

Sam chokes back a laugh, the greatest minds in the world built the bunker, it was dormant for over 50 years and everything worked just as it should. They barely even understood how they got power, water, Sam’s still not entirely sure how the wifi worked there.

“So if we somehow lost power, you’d be willing to eat tuna everyday until we eventually die?” Sam asks skeptically. “Admit it Dean, you bought these for Shadow.”

“You know about Shadow?” Dean asks, confusion laced in his voice.

“Of course I know about Shadow! He’s sleeping in my room right now.”

“Um, no,” Dean’s brow furrows, “he’s in my room, waiting for his lunch.”

Had Dean actually been sneaking Shadow out of his room to secretly feed the kitten? Did he think that Sam wasn’t feeding him enough? But if Shadow was getting twice the amount of meals, he should be putting on more weight. Dean gestures for Sam to follow him, scraping the tuna off the bread, and into a bowl. Sam rolls his eyes and follows behind Dean, waiting impatiently for him to open his bedroom door, and free Sam’s kitten.

When Dean opens the door, the sight on the bed surprises Sam. There is a kitten sitting on Dean’s pillow that looks nearly identical to Shadow, but Sam’s spent enough time with his kitten to know that this one isn’t his. Dark fluffy fur, but the giveaway is this kitten has golden eyes as opposed to Shadow’s green ones. They must be siblings, and a pang of guilt fills Sam; he should’ve looked harder, but there were no signs of a mama or other kittens.

“I found him outside a week ago, figured that we could give him a home. Just been trying to find a way to see if it was okay with you.” Dean picks up the scrawny kitten, who lets out a high pitched meow. “I couldn’t get him to eat anything, so the girl at the pet store suggested tuna.”

“That’s not Shadow,” he states dumbly, unsure of what else to say. Dean looks at him curiously before Sam makes his way to his own room, Dean following closely behind him with his own kitten. Shadow is sitting on the edge of Sam’s bed when he enters, something he loves, knowing that he seems to recognize his footsteps. “This is Shadow,” Sam states as Dean walks in.

“I knew you were hiding something in here!” Dean accuses. “You know I’m allergic to cats, Sam! I could’ve died!” Sam can’t help but laugh, clearly Dean had forgotten that he was also hiding a cat, and was even at that moment, holding a cat in his arm.

“Yeah, your life has clearly been in danger this whole time,” Sam chortles. Shadow jumps down from the bed, landing with a soft thump and umph, and Dean’s Shadow squirms in his arms. He wriggles around until Dean finally lets him down, and the two brothers immediately begin to play– one Shadow chasing the other Shadow around.

“Well, one of us is going to have to change their cat’s name,” Dean states matter-of-factly. “We can’t both have kitten’s named ‘Shadow.’ I’m the oldest, so my Shadow keeps his name.”

After three rounds of Rock, Paper, Scissors, Dean concedes to changing his Shadow’s name. An argument ensues when Dean picks a new name. He, like Sam, hadn’t given much thought to a name outside of Shadow. Dean even tries to compromise that they both change their respective kitten’s name, but Sam refuses. He’s had his kitten much longer, and his Shadow has already begun responding to his name. As the kittens settle down, curling into each other, Dean announces that his kitten will become Shadow II.

Sam rolls his eyes, but accepts the new name. As the kittens drift off, Dean makes a comment that takes Sam by surprise, “do y’think there’s more out there?”

Forever Tags:

@akshi8278 @that-one-gay-girl @supraveng @coldmuffinbanditshoe @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @screechingartisancashbailiff @flamencodiva @lyarr24 @slamminmine @ilovetaquitosmmmm @deandreamernp @stoneyggirl @spnbaby-67 @sandlee44 @spngi @drakelover78 @mrswhozeewhatsis @mimaria420 @spnbaby-67 @black-rose-29 @luvmybbies @manawhaat @pink-sparkly-witch @pisces-cutie @deeranger @shaelyn102 @negansnympho89

#sam winchester #dean winchester #fluff #spn fic #kittens #gen fic

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hintofelation99 · 4 years ago

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Hi! I love your posts and want to ask your opinion on something. Who do you think in the batfam has the most and the least common sense of a normal person? If you can, can you also list how they are arranged? Thank you!

Ooohhh, this is a fun one! In my mind all bats lack common sense. Like obviously they're hella smart, after all they are a family of detectives, they just aren't very bright.

Here's a quick rundown (least to most): Tim and Dick tie for first place, both lack common sense in just in completely different ways. Then Damian (mostly cause of the whole 'being raised by league of assassins' thing), Bruce, Cass (controversial ik), Steph, Jason, Duke, Babs, and last on the list is obvs Alfred. (Kate is probs between Cass and Steph, but I've only really seen her in the DCAMU and need to get to know her better).

And Ima add a 'keep reading' cause this is gonna get long.

Tim:

Tim is one of the smartest in the family. He deduced Batman's identity as a child, majorly fucked up the League of Assassins, and has been honored (I say this v sarcastically just btw) with Ra's creepy obsession. He's smart, plain and simple. However, when it comes to just day to day survival and being loved, goddamn that boy is dumb.

He regularly mixes energy drinks and coffee. Sometimes he even mixes energy drinks, alcohol, and coffee.

In his mind warnings are optional. "Tim, did you just sniff that drano?" "Yeah, why?" "IT LITERALLY SAYS DO NOT SMELL" "Oops"

He regularly tests shit on himself. "Why is Tim on the floor?" "He mixed joker venom and fear gas to see what would happen" "HE WHAT"

Also if you try to compliment him or tell him you love him he will find a way to misunderstand. "Tim, I love you and you are an amazing son." "I don't know who this Tim is but he sounds great" "It- it's you, literally you. Timothy Jackson Drake." "I'm a bit confused, I didn't know you knew two Timothy Jackson Drakes. You should really introduce us."

Dick:

Dick in many ways is a total himbo. He's a complete sweetheart, super supportive, and very ditzy. His ditzy-ness directly correlates to how relaxed he is. Chilling in the manor? Peak himbo. A mission in space? Absolute genius and amazing leader. Just took down a bunch of thugs? Slowly reverting into dopey boi. He always has the ability to be super analytical, smart, and big brain, but he likes being whimsical and even airheaded. And that's not a bad thing, it's just him taking mental breaks, being lighthearted.

"YOU PUT DIESEL IN YOUR CAR?" "...Yeah, in my defense the nozzles look basically the same" "They're different colors?! Also the diesel nozzle doesn't even fit into your gas tank, how did you get it in?" "I'm a good pourer."

He always responds to the word dick and it always confuses him. "God Ra's is such a dick!" "What?" "Ra's is a dick" "I'm not Ra's!" "Wha- no! I mean penis dick!" "Ohhhh, yeah he is a penis dick"

Once Dick is safe he reverts into himbo pretty quickly, even after stressful situations. "Hey Wally?" "Yes babe?" "I forgot how to change my lock screen again" "Dick, you just hacked into an alien spaceship not even an hour ago??" "What's that have to do with anything?"

Damian:

Damian lacks common sense from growing up with the League of Assassins. He's an amazing warrior and super analytical but casual human interaction alludes him. He is getting better though, so eventually he'll be lower on the list than Steph. But for now he's a senseless bby.

The first time someone tried to give him high five he assumed it was an attack and flipped them. Same with a fist bump.

This is complete canon but his original treatment of Alfred, his brothers, and, well, everyone. Like bby boy please read the room.

His ego can easily override common sense. Like he wouldn't jump off a bridge if everyone else was doing it, but if someone said he couldn't he'd immediately swan dive off that bridge.

Bruce:

For the world's greatest detective he can be a major dumb bitch sometimes. Some of it's growing up rich and some is being so wrapped up in his 'crusade for justice' that he just misses basic shit.

One time he walked in on Roy and Jason making out, the next day he saw them cuddling, then they mentioned moving in together. It took him three months to realize that they're dating.

He doesn't understand coupons, like at all. Jason has tried to explain them but Bruce just gets even more confused.

Bruce tried to make coffee once. He literally just poured coffee beans in water and microwaved it. He was surprised when it didn't taste good.

Cass:

Cass is similar to Damian in she lacks common sense from an unconventional upbringing. However she's learning way faster than Damian and depending on where in the timeline you're looking she might have more common sense than Babs.

Basic things like lines, turn taking, and speaking when spoken to aren't innate to her. Like, she knows and understands them, but often forgets about them.

There are many times that she blurs the line between civilian and vigilante because she'll do something that looks v stupid and dangerous for a civilian. The thing is she never notices when she does this.

One time she was in a restaurant and there was a cockroach on the wall across the room (cause Gotham) and instead of getting up and killing it like a normal person she threw her steak knife and impaled it.

Steph:

Steph is probably lacks common sense the most conventional yet slightly concerning way. She lacks common sense in the same way a cartoon character or sitcom character would. Like it's sorta realistic but at the same time damn bby girl why are you such a disaster??

She will do anything on a dare. Anything. There is a rule against daring Steph to do things while in the manor or on patrol.

Every time she hears someone say Red Robin she yells yum. This has gotten both her and RR shot.

Steph is v lucky that 1) she's a badass and 2) the batfam loves her because she annoys absolutely everyone just for shits and giggles and the only reason she hasn't been murdered is that Cass scares everyone.

Jason:

All common sense is lost when dramas at stake. Say what you will but Jason is the (second) biggest drama queen in the family. Also he, like most bats, lacks a sense of self preservation which leads to shit common sense.

He tried to steal Batman's tires.

Sometimes he listens to music during patrol and tries to hit people/shoot on beat. This has lead to stab wounds.

Jason loves to loudly quote classic literature while on stake outs. This is a problem for obvious reasons.

Duke:

Ok this is around the time you get to average common sense levels. But he still runs around Gotham beating people up in tights (or kevlar) so he doesn't get full points. Also he's still not Babs level common sense. One area Duke lacks common sense in is how to deal with the Batfam (which is v understandable tbh)

One time Duke was joking around with Jason and decided to steal a roll off of Damian's plate. This ended in blood.

Other than lacking Batfam common sense, most of his poor judgement moments are less notable but still concerning.

For example the time he challenged Dick to a hot dog eating contest then went on a roller coaster.

Babs:

Other than being a vigilante Babs almost has normal human common sense. However being a vigilante has negative side effects on ones common sense.

While Babs' sleep schedule isn't as bad as Tim's it's not a whole lot better. She's stayed up 72 consecutive hours multiple times.

She has accidentally poured coffee onto her computer instead of into a coffee mug.

One time she drank an entire gallon of milk before realizing it was a month expired.

Alfred:

Most assume that working for Bruce Wayne is a sign of him lacking common sense. But nah, it's him knowing, understanding, and challenging his own limits. Also it's him being a charitable human being. Like he has enough common sense to go around and tbh it's the only thing keeping the family alive.

"Master Bruce, you may not use Elmer's Glue All to close a wound."

"Master Dick I would encourage you not to teach Master Duke acrobatics on the glass coffee table."

"Miss Stephanie I would not advise trying to consume an entire jar of peanut butter in one sitting, and no, I do not care if Master Jason dared you to."

Tada, there's the list! Sorry that was probably a lot longer than anyone wanted, but I enjoy talking about how ditzy the batfam is. Like they're all geniuses but at the same time they're just sooooo dumb.

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ugh-againwiththenames · 4 years ago

Text

So Many Fanfics So Little Time

This is just my list, I have seen so many (but if you want to use it it’s all yours too!). I’m not a writer. But I am a hell of a reader. Voracious one might argue. I just wanted to track my progress through the weeds of the absolutely never ending supply of Destiel and Cockles fanfic.

Read on if you want to see what I’ve read, and what I’ve thought. I am but one person with opinions - some of them may be unpopular - some of them you might agree with, but if you find something you haven’t read here, I encourage you to do so.

Honestly, this is just so I can track what I have read already, and when my friends ask, I can reference something easily. I have found some different fics on all kinds of ‘best of’ lists all over the interwebs. And I love recs - so rec away friends.

As someone who reads a solid 40 novels a year typically, I don’t come by the “I read a lot” innocently. I do actually read a LOT. When not reading fanfic (a new obsession, all things being fair), I usually read a lot of Fantasy/high fantasy, romance/erotica, and or YA (yeah, that was a bit of a ride no?). So from this one might digress that I like fluffy, cute stories, complicated and supernatural/paranormal type stories, and I sure do not shy away from violence or smut (or maybe violence with smut? *smirk*).

I have read all of these in the last 2-3 months (I will continue to add as I go). I had never read a fanfic until 2-3 months ago. A lot of these wonderful people are on here, and I mean you no offence by not directly tagging you - I’m still learning how to actually properly use this site. Links to AO3 are included (and I love you all).

These aren’t necessarily in any real order - I did read T&S first, followed by 91W, and 4LW...after that it’s just a shit show of Long or Short, Destiel or Cockles - smorgasbord. Some of these are the most popular Fics out there, and others I’ve never seen recc’d anywhere (just sort of accidentally happened upon them). So let’s get to it, shall we?

Twist and Shout - ok look. I understand the stigma associated with this one, but it was the FIRST one I read. It was the ball that shot me down the hill, and I haven’t stopped since. So. I loved it. I CRIED like a baby. SOBBED. It was not the quality of the writing but the way the story was developed and delivered. I have Never Cried Like This Reading a Story IN MY LIFE. It’s a rite of passage. Read It and have an opinion - it doesn’t need to be mine.

Author(s): gabriel, standbyme https://archiveofourown.org/works/537876/chapters/955188

Ninety-One Whiskey - aka 91W, it is mentioned so much, and is SO worth the read. I continued my dive into the war fics (not typically my bag really and here I was reading 2 in a row). There are a couple of followup stories as well to this series (and yes, I’ve read them all). Although I’ll say that the original is my favourite. I often got lost in a bit of the War/Tactical descriptions, but would recommend it to anyone anyway. Ugh...the “stolen moments”...they were at the same time tragic and the most amazing things ever. You feel me? no? go read it.

Author: komodobits https://archiveofourown.org/works/2362190/chapters/5214500

Four Letter Word for Intercourse - aka 4LW. OMG just, OMG. I loved this story. I loved it so much. I think I read it in a day. Devoured it. It’s so HOT. Just read it. If you haven’t you’re missing out. LEMME AT IT. I loved “knowing the secret”, and had some major anxiety about that realization dawning (I had to take a breath, and be like, no, no, this is gonna be a mess, but it’s gonna be SO GOOD - I was not disappointed). There’s more than one work here too - read them all. PLEASE.

Author: bendingsignpost https://archiveofourown.org/works/16086839/chapters/37568591

Memories Bring Back Memories (Bring Back You) - This was the first Sobs one I read, but it sent me on a spree. this is the Memory Loss one. I have one piece of advice here - read everything by Sobsicles. You can thank me later...just go to her page, and fucking sort to supernatural (or not, read it all!) I’d list them but I’d fucking seriously be here all day. Also, her tags make me laugh so hard.

Author: sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/24022945/chapters/57796885

Orpheus - I love this one too, Tattooed!Cas, my LOVE. paired with Mechanic!Dean, my HEART, #help. Read this one in one evening as well. (I was on a roll). It’s a one night stand that turns into more (much like my last relationship)....hmm...maybe this is why I was pulled in - although to be fair that is the last similarity to my shitty love life! I do not remember how I stumbled onto this one (tattooed Cas may have been the draw...tbh). Read the warnings though, there is some triggering stuff in this one - but if you can handle it, it’s definitely worth the read.

Author: sysrae https://archiveofourown.org/works/2364347/chapters/5220227

Have Love, Will Travel - Can you say no to Stripper!Dean? Cause I sure as hell cannot. Typical sort of character development here with Dean having trust issues, and Cas being painfully awkward...(but in like a super cute way?). Would Recommend.

Author: squeemonster https://archiveofourown.org/works/565455/chapters/1011747

The Inexhaustible Silence of Houses - Change of pace here...It’s got a nice twist. I didn’t actually clue into how it was going to end until very near the end (maybe I was being oblivious), when the realization came over me and I was...man. I was DONE IN. I hope that doesn’t spoil (I need some kind of way of remembering them). Voiceless!Cas Hunter!Dean

Author: Askance (doomcountry) https://archiveofourown.org/works/560268/chapters/1000755

Adagio - This is super short, and super cute. Honestly, I would read the whole thing just for the last line. It’ll take you less than an hour if I remember correctly. Go, I’ll wait. I squeeed. did you?

Author: noangelsinthegarrison https://archiveofourown.org/works/1397248/chapters/2928145

Any Little Heartache - super easy read (not in a bad way, but in a ‘you’ll fly through it’ way). It’s mid-length, not graphic, but really fun hospital AU. HeartSurgeon!Dean / Nurse!Cas - enemies to lovers anyone? Fuck you to Fuck me? yeah. YUM.

Author: followthattardis https://archiveofourown.org/works/5143376/chapters/11838311

Ad Astra - This is another short(ish) one, just one chapter. And by that I mean that this is written like a very long poem. Cas as a star who has visited Dean many times over the years of his life, that culminates in 4x01 barn scene. It’s ‘awe’ sad. ‘puppy dog eyes’ sad. The writing format took me a bit to understand what was happening - it’s my lack of poetry knowledge, not the writing.

Author: nhixxie https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013491

Ad Astra Per Aspera - This is a cute story. ESL writer, no judgement. I found this while looking for the one above, and thought the premise looked cute - and it was. Misunderstanding leading to Dean realizing he’s actually Bi. Miscommunication leading to realization.

Author: Riverchester https://archiveofourown.org/works/12354336/chapters/28101816

Psalm 40:2 - Time travel post-canon Cas and Pre-series Dean. If you’re wondering how that works, strap in for this ride, it’s well worth it.

Author: unicornpoe https://archiveofourown.org/works/30786425/chapters/75992444

Addicted to You - Warlock!Dean/Incubus!Cas - accidental ‘mating’ (I actually really don’t like that word, but there’s sort of no avoiding it in this situation). Cute story. When you drunk dial a succubus and get an incubus instead...Whatever will we do?

Author: Ltleflrt https://archiveofourown.org/works/4387346/chapters/9959288

A Glimpse Beyond - End Fix-it. Not yet complete, 10 chapters so far...I want MORE! Reliving memories Dean/Cas & Sam/Eileen.

Author: NorthernSparrow https://archiveofourown.org/works/27731689/chapters/67875925

Cas-ti-el - Please I want more...It’s like the story just started. Please write more of this story!! 1 chapter, it’s a trope prompt challenge, but I want it to be a full on story of its own. Imprinted names of their soul mates, Dean doesn’t understand his (because it’s in a different language)...I’m frustrated by wanting this story to keep going.

Author: Valinde (Valyria) https://archiveofourown.org/works/1941591

Our Bodies, Posessed by Light - another short one. Not going to lie, this one took a little getting used to, and I can’t say that I enjoyed it too much for the sole purpose that the premise gave me the willies. Cas has to vessel jump - ends up in Sam...I got through it, it had a good ending, but yeah, sorry. This just wasn’t for me.

Author: obstinatrix https://archiveofourown.org/works/260289

Peanut Butter Pumpkin Wedding Cake - Waiter!Dean / Writer!Cas - This is so effing cute, just misunderstanding after misunderstanding bumbling around like the couple of dorks that they are. It’s only one chapter. 100% would recommend.

Author: Sparseparsley https://archiveofourown.org/works/223962

Destiel, Actually - This is another super cute story, 5 chapters. Gabriel playing a singular role in putting Dean and Cas in awkward positions to push them together. I fucking DIED at “oh, I am the sub” - needs context, but I guarantee you that you’ll laugh out loud...

Author: Bexism https://archiveofourown.org/works/399934/chapters/658398

The Smell Before the Rain - This was my first A/B/O - a big apology to all those who are into mpreg and whatnot, this was my lesson that I am not. this was not for me. Also - I’m a firm Cas (Alpha/Dom) believer, and i’m good with switch Cas, but it’s hard for me to take him being the full Omega here, when paired with the rest I just couldn’t do it. I finished it, but, not my thing. I know now.

Author: jscribbles https://archiveofourown.org/works/22355230/chapters/53406127

Crazy Diamonds - This is another short one, only 3 chapters - it’s a body swap for Dean, 4x02 him and 2018 him swap places (assumption that 2018 him is “with” Cas). It’s a super cute little story.

Author: pantheon_of_discord https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151642/chapters/37738631

The Breath of All Things - Wheelchair!Dean / Volunteer!Cas. This is a lovely story, typical Dean self-hatred etc. Triggering for those with suicide warnings. It had me in tears at the end. There’s a really spectacular quote near the end that I found so romantic I screen grabbed it.

Author: KismetJeska https://archiveofourown.org/works/994750/chapters/1967519

Kind of a Forever Deal - SummerCamp!AU This is just a really cute and fluffy summer camp AU. Which is so different from 91W (That’s right, check the author)! I was a little disappointed with the ending, but otherwise really enjoyed this all the way through and was loving all the discovery and young characterizations of all the characters.

Author: komodobits https://archiveofourown.org/works/999291/chapters/1978478

Everytown, USA - Best way I can break this one down? Wanderer!Dean (listless and without a place in the world, he ends up in a small town...), Twin!Cas (that leads to some fun things). There are a number of points where you’re gonna yell at Dean for doing stupid shit (that are very much in character for him to do), you think, well, yes, obviously you’re going to do that you silly fucking boy [affectionate]; but whyyy? (but we know).

Author: aileenrose https://archiveofourown.org/works/1797559/chapters/3854836

Chalk and Chainmail - HighSchool!AU, Cas is an artist, Dean LARP’s - it’s cute and angsty.

Author: lemonsorbae https://archiveofourown.org/works/804704/chapters/1517551

A Little Patience - Ok. you want smut? This is your story. You want Kink? This is your story. I actually did not finish this. It got a little carried away in my opinion. It was VERY panty kink oriented (which, while essentially canon isn’t really my kink) so, if you want that Panty Kink on full display? Go forth and enjoy! it is thirty something chapters, I got to the mid-twenties I Think.

Author: riseofthefallenone https://archiveofourown.org/works/1750058/chapters/3739232

Control - I REALLY ENJOYED THIS. Which is saying a lot for someone who has already admitted that a Subby Cas isn’t really my HC - so to so thoroughly enjoy a Sub!Cas story? (maybe it’s the tattooes...*wink*). It’s an AU where Cas is the head of a company - Dean is a callboy I guess, for lack of a better term. Just read it.

Author: dothraki_shieldmaiden https://archiveofourown.org/works/31156601/chapters/76993217

More (I copy pasted the next lot from my google doc, I’ll flush them out later - no i wont...)

Teach Me (short) - movie night in the bunker, things get a little carried away Author: Chiyume https://archiveofourown.org/works/5961327

You Light the Spark (in my bonfire heart) (short) - when cas doesn't realize that dean is unaware of his feelings, super short, super cute Author: noangelsinthegarrison https://archiveofourown.org/works/1193910

Communication Breakdown (short/cockles) - dean ends up in Jensen's head while he films the confession scene, no sexual content Author: jujubiest https://archiveofourown.org/works/29669601/chapters/72951339

Look What You Made Me Do (short/cockles) - - Vegas Con 2020 / jensen comes out with a song - cute short - no sexual content Author: green_blue_heller https://archiveofourown.org/works/30251592 Full House (short/cockles) - reimagined version of the rented house story - putting it in order (so to speak). funny / cute / fluffy not explicit Author: n_nami https://archiveofourown.org/works/30855827

Cyber Sex (short/cockles) - anastiel https://archiveofourown.org/works/31467086 - shameless post GISH Fest zoom call porn - Short (very short)

It's Complicated (cockles) - gail_morgan https://archiveofourown.org/works/31434938/chapters/77747519 The GISHtake (short/cockles) - MellyCrazyCoconut https://archiveofourown.org/works/31508099 - cute short post GISH zoom - oops "babe, really?"

(10.02.2021 updated) Since last update: New reads - Fuck i’m gonna be here all day - there’s not gonna be as much gonna be NO detail in these breakdowns...sorry! This has now just become a “what i’ve read list” as opposed to a Rec list...

Love, All Alike (Pt. 1 Love, All Alike) - Phantoms_and_Foxgloves https://archiveofourown.org/works/4555599/chapters/10370646 - Though The Stars Walk Backward (pt 2 Love, All alike) - Phantoms_and_Foxgloves

And this, your living kiss - opal_bullets https://archiveofourown.org/works/18083927/chapters/42744872

Come On, Let's Strike a Match (Domination and Submission: a love story pt 1) - anyrei & queerwerewolf *** https://archiveofourown.org/works/25722478/chapters/62458810 - Playing With Fire (D&S: a love story pt 2) - We Kiss and the Flames Get Higher (D&S: a love story pt 3) - Sparking That Old Flame (D&S: a love story pt 4)

Cinderwings - bendingsignpost Cinderella!AU** https://archiveofourown.org/works/12847041/chapters/29336421

Linden - fleeceframe Swan!AU** https://archiveofourown.org/works/33126730/chapters/82236118

No Netflix, No Chill (short) - dorian_they https://archiveofourown.org/works/28764966

Can't Drink You Away (short) - dorian_they https://archiveofourown.org/works/28785792

Jensen Totally (Does Not!) Snore (short RPF) - Dorian_they https://archiveofourown.org/works/30315717

Dean Ships It (short) - dorian_they https://archiveofourown.org/works/30349434

All about control - wingless https://archiveofourown.org/works/9151930/chapters/20791243

Aesthetics in Autoerotica (pt 1 Aesthetics in Autoerotica) - relucant https://archiveofourown.org/works/3885544 - The Ties that Bind (pt 2 Aesthetics in Autoerotica) - relucant

Let's take a drive - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/32581027/chapters/80819581

Enchanted ink - castielslostwings TattooArtist!Dean TattooArtist!Castiel AU *** https://archiveofourown.org/works/23043622/chapters/55109530

The bones beneath our skin - darknessbound https://archiveofourown.org/works/24633754/chapters/59515804

The Plot (RPF) - Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me https://archiveofourown.org/works/2795588/chapters/6274970

The Gentle Force with which you Take Me (RPF) - Phoenix_Ascended https://archiveofourown.org/works/32110120/chapters/79549183

According to all known laws of Life (Pt. 1 Cursed Metaphors) - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/29207901 - and he's back (with a mind of his own) (pt. 2 Cursed Metaphors) - sobsicles

Six hundred sundays (and many more) - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/31158776

Aching in the Absence of you - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/31832977/chapters/78811378

gorging myself on you, still can’t get full (insatiable) (Short) - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/32203291

memories bring back memories (bring back you) - sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/24022945/chapters/57796885

Dream Come True (short) - bendingsignpost https://archiveofourown.org/works/28071159

tall grass - aeli_kindara https://archiveofourown.org/works/13127040/chapters/30030726

asunder (Short) - rageprufrock https://archiveofourown.org/works/62115

Apheresis - bendingsignpost BloodDonor!AU ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/32674783/chapters/81056680

we always were but never knew it - frightfullyrude https://archiveofourown.org/works/32698324/chapters/81119503

In this Louisiana Bar (Short) - fleeceframe https://archiveofourown.org/works/31764487

The Hitchhiker's Guide to Alternate Universes - n_nami https://archiveofourown.org/works/32687929/chapters/81092785

my heart a compass - lagaudiere https://archiveofourown.org/works/28629951

Unsound Inverses - sp8ce (not complete) https://archiveofourown.org/works/29836881/chapters/73413300

The Jensen Mistake (RPFish) - fellshish https://archiveofourown.org/works/31950169

tell me about the dream (Pt. 1 Kids are coming home) - playedwright https://archiveofourown.org/works/27984813/chapters/68544450

It's handy to know (FIMMF Themed ;)) - RosaMarloes https://archiveofourown.org/works/31761322

So Says The Sword - komodobits AngelTrueform!AU** https://archiveofourown.org/works/12597892/chapters/28695592

Communication Breakdown (RPFish)- darkshrimpemotions (jujubiest) https://archiveofourown.org/works/29669601/chapters/72951339

Carry You Home - Casloveshisfreckles https://archiveofourown.org/works/26982637/chapters/65862916

In the Shadow of your Wings - Enochian Things (Salr323) https://archiveofourown.org/works/7531294/chapters/17121655

When Harry Met Sally (RPF) (Pt. 1 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood https://archiveofourown.org/works/7622347/chapters/17351845 - Eight Dildos (RPF) (Pt. 2 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood - Attention, Please (RPF) (Pt. 3 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood - Boat Trip (RPF) (Pt. 4 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood

A Winter's Tale - NorthernSparrow https://archiveofourown.org/works/2654327/chapters/5930561

A Close Shave - NorthernSparrow https://archiveofourown.org/works/3090167

r/supernatural - renrub (short) https://archiveofourown.org/works/27626783

sam reads destiel fics - rebshome (short - funny!) https://archiveofourown.org/works/33721624

Angel Cookies - noxsoulmate Chirstmas!AU ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/11729640/chapters/26427765

Under The Midnight Sun - NorthernSparrow Arctic!AU ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/16690645/chapters/39143677

Bron-Yr-Aur - mrbluesky (Short) https://archiveofourown.org/works/28225335

The Dean Winchester Beat Sheet - saltyfeathers https://archiveofourown.org/works/19258594/chapters/45800209

The Meaning On My Skin - saltnhalo https://archiveofourown.org/works/18005378/chapters/42538133

Red Right Hand (Pt. 1 Murder Ballads) - Duckyboos https://archiveofourown.org/works/4306110/chapters/9760008 - Are you the One that I've been waiting for? (pt. 2 Murder Ballads) - Duckyboos

Riptides - sharkfish https://archiveofourown.org/works/13230426/chapters/30263556

Damn Fine Ride - Cimorene105 (pt 1 - rodeo) Cowboy!AU** (I’m a horse girl, sue me...) https://archiveofourown.org/works/14342340 - My Face Just Does This, Sometimes - Cimorene105 (pt. 2 rodeo) - The Kinkiest Thing I've Ever Done- Cimorene105 (pt 3 rodeo) - All Signs Point to Love - Cimorene105 (pt. 4 rodeo) - Monster Love - Cimorene105 (pt. 5 rodeo) - My Man, The Siren - Cimorene105 (pt. 6 rodeo) - A Pain in My Ass - Cimorene105 (pt. 7 rodeo)

Astrolabe (terra incognita pt 1) - reluctantabandon, Winter_of_our_Discontent https://archiveofourown.org/works/3348812/chapters/7326794 - Drollery (terra incognita pt 2) - reluctantabandon Winter_of_our_Discontent - Rubrication (terra incognita pt 3) - reluctantabandon Winter_of_our_Discontent

Go Down With This Ship - PorcupineGirl https://archiveofourown.org/works/8023642/chapters/18370474

Fire and Ice - Castielslostwings (Firefighter/Paramedic AU!) ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/23286295/chapters/55768486

The Structural Similarities of Hunters and Onions - Faster_Than_the_Speed_of_Sound (Short) https://archiveofourown.org/works/33383101

Castiel Novak's Office, This is Dean - emmbrancsxx0 https://archiveofourown.org/works/22411336/chapters/53545840

Out of the Deep (out of the deep pt. 1) - riseofthefallenone - MERMAID AU! ** https://archiveofourown.org/works/548878/chapters/977676

Dean (and Cas') Top 13 Zepp Traxx - pantheon_of_discord https://archiveofourown.org/works/10909440/chapters/24256989

I'll Be Good - LittleAngelCassie https://archiveofourown.org/works/4118334/chapters/9282234

Kenosis - CastielsCarma (Short - part of Destiel ABC collection) https://archiveofourown.org/works/30411720

#fics #fic recs #fanfiction #ao3 #cockles #destiel #dean and cas #jensen and misha #one track mind #supernatural #please send me recs #read more fics #this is my new obsession

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gyllenhaalstories · 4 years ago

Photo

READER x LEO GYLLENHAAL, part 2.

request: hii idk if you could write a leo gyllenhaal x reader part 2 like how would he react if the reader already had a dog and how would jake be meeting the dog's reader. i just need more leo fluff

notes: you can find the original headcanons on my pinned post/masterlist. this is a friendly reminder than leo is the greatest gyllenhaal (and that jake looks slightly scary in this photo but details).

You know how a single parent introducing their child to their new significant other is a big deal? How when they both have children, it becomes such a delicate mission, a dealbreaker, a do or die? It’d be the same when the time comes for Leo and your dog to meet.

Your dog had already adopted Jake, Leo had already adopted you. You had to trick them into not paying attention to the smell of another dog on your clothing by giving them more ear rubs and treats, so this cruel act of treason that is having more than one dog to give your love to had little to no consequences.

Scents, that was the common solution both you and Jake came up with when your relationship became very serious and the more nights you spent apart, the sadder it made the two of you. You started by taking one of Leo’s stuffed animals home to your place, pretending it was a new toy for your pooch to play with. Jake did the same with your dog’s favourite ball. Soon enough, both dogs adopted the new items as their own and it became their favourite thing to play with.

Just like you would do with kids, you started slow. You turned the volume up when Jake FaceTimed you so your dog would be intrigued by the sound of Leo’s barking. You could swear that, one time, your dog sat next to you on the couch while Jake was cleaning his kitchen after dinner and he filmed Leo as he showed you the new trick he learned (well, the new trick you taught Leo who refused to perform it without your presence), and barked at Leo in the same playful manner he would do an unknown dog at the park. The call ended with Jake and you nodding, feeling like there was no need to wait any longer.

The next day, you two had planned a picnic. You had brought lots of extra treats and new toys while Jake promised to bring the food. You found a park you both had never visited that was dog friendly, judging that unknown territory was a better bet and no one had any advantages over the other. While dominant and submissive dynamics were completely normal with dogs, you wished for them to be friends and to be equal.

After all, they were both winning big. Double the attention, double the love, double the belly scratches and a whole new playing partner who was fast enough to chase and lazy enough to crash on an abandoned blanket on the floor for hours until the scent of chicken summoned them back to reality.

The day was sunny and warm, the breeze was calm and tickling your skin. You had put your dog in their prettiest bandana, so did Jake with Leo’s. They were matching ones that you bought one another for your six months anniversary of dating. Yes, you had waited that long to introduce your dogs.

Time finally came that Leo and your dog met. You could see their happy tails waggling away and just how much their were pulling on their leashes. They did their introductions, you and Jake pretending to voice their interactions.

“So you’re my new best friend?” Jake used a low voice, resembling an old grumpy man.

“Heck yes! We’re gonna steal all the chimken!” You laughed, imitating what you thought your dog would sound like in an alternate universe where they would speak.

“We have lots of peanut butter at home too!”

“Peanut butter!” You repeated and the dogs completely lost it. They were hopping around, excited by the mention of one of their favourite foods.

Jake helped you set down and gave you a spoon, with which you scopped some of the peanut butter he brought in a tiny container and fed your friends. You earned another nod from your boyfriend, everything was going well.

Your dog tried to impress Leo by chasing their tail, while the German Sherperd just sat and raised his eyebrows in confusion, until he joined the party as well and brought the cutest laughters from both Jake and you.

The rest of the date went smoothly, other than the fact you had to adjust to two hungry mouths trying to steal bites of your food at any given occasion. All they had to do was cause a distraction by sitting pretty of giving either Jake or you a high five while the other one was happily munching on whatever you had on your napkin you used as a plate.

Every now and then, Jake would squeeze your hand. You could almost see the tears of joy pooling in his sky blue eyes. When he looked at you, he saw nothing but sparkles of love.

You agreed on staying the night at your apartment, hoping to watch a movie all cuddled up on the couch. You knew you had to tire the dogs out if you wanted to have any minute alone at all.

Jake started to throw a frisbee, it only reached a few feet and Leo was already exhausted from lazily walking to get it and bring it back to you. You had to agree with him, Jake was a terrible pitcher. You bumped your hip on his before you threw the disc in the distance, your dog rushed to catch it and ran back to show their skills to his new friend. Jake poked his tongue out at you every time you tossed the frisbee in a perfect motion. What was it, that they say? You can’t teach an old dog new tricks?

Clearly this saying was false, you had taught Leo, and Jake, a lot of things already, but there was so much left to discover.

“I’ve been thinking...” You looked exactly like Leo when you tilted your face, and raised your eyebrows at Jake. “When we’ll get married, I can adopt your dog so we all have the same last name.”

Your eyes widened at the mention of marriage, your heart was beating faster than when you were walking to the park, fileld with doubts and anticipation.

“And then we can adopt another one and have one big family!”

You reached up to kiss his cheek lovingly while the new friends seemed to have fallen asleep, each biting a side of the frisbee you threw around earlier. “We already are a family.”

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal fluff #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal x you #leo gyllenhaal

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xxsmokeyy · 4 years ago

Text

Levi x Drug Dealer! Reader (F) The Lunatic And Her Dog

genre: smut, canonverse — Levi’s early recruitment

summary: being a former thug, the new soldier is given a task to ingratiate himself, finding an old associate from his past along the way.

tw: vices (drugs, cigarettes), rough sex

wc: 12,039 holy fuck (smut is only latter half)

“Coderoin. A strong, sweet, and highly addictive drug that’s been circulating in Stohess District for about four years or so,” the Commander says, voice gruff as he explains the content of the unwrapped paper filled with azure tablets.

Coderoin. Levi thinks he’s heard of that thing not long before. He just can’t quite put his finger on it.

“The Military Police Brigade failed to capture the primary smuggler of this substance multiple times, and it’s only recently come to their notice that it’s gotten reformulated to a liquid solution,” he continues, pinching one of them in his fingers, rolling it back and forth to study its appearance.

Levi can only stand back in ennui, the lack of interest reverberating from his aura. What the fuck is he supposed to do with that information?

Erwin places the tablet back to the paper, propping his palms on the tabletop, and stares deep into Levi’s unamused eyes.

“You’ll have to hunt this drug dealer down.” The curt order comes. Levi cocks a brow in confusion, wondering why the blond would make him do such thing.

“That’s the MP’s job. I thought I joined here to kill those filthy titans, what are you going on about?” he quizzes in confusion.

Erwin sighs, lids shutting close before he massages his temples. “The higher-ups are still not exactly in favor of your recruitment in the army, and as much as you hate buttering people up, you’ll have to deal with this case to secure your postion,” he makes intelligible, getting into the details so to clarify things out.

The raven haired man before him listens intently with a permanent scowl on his face, arms crossed over each other. He’s most definitely not liking the idea of seeking those damn swines’ goodwill. Just when he decided to trust the guy.

“You’ll earn Darius Zackly’s approval once you catch the little felon,” Erwin speaks truthfully. Of course, the Supreme Commander who so hates him, of all people. “It’s just this once. Trust me, you’ll have no more problems with your stay if you solve this case,” he even adds to convince the man. Not that there’s any way around this matter. Levi has to do this to prevent further threats in his position and to clear his reputation as well, by hook or by crook.

“You basically want me to suck up their asses,” he concludes, not a question, more of a full decisive statement. The Commander grunts his affirmative response, still getting used of his soldier’s sharp tongue.

“Tch. To hell with that.”

—

The afternoon later, he’s walking on the stony pavements of Stohess District, left with no choice but to follow the Commander’s orders.

Ever since the death of his last friends, Farlan and Isabel, just a few weeks back, things have gotten ridiculously out of hand regarding his enlistment. It almost arrived to a point where he’s wanted in court for seniors to debate whether he can stay up top or should be sent back to the Underground, considering his heavy crimes.

Holding a poster in hand, he studies the illustration keenly. It says the words WANTED: Notorious Drug Lord in big, thick, and bold letters. In the sketched picture is a person wearing a hood. From what he’s told, the wanted criminal has been in the hide for years now, but never once left the district.

“That man never shows himself. That portrait is from a witness in a pub near a shanty town. Some say he often appears wearing a cloak.” That’s what a Military Police officer said to him when he asked for the dealer’s whereabouts.

A man? He squints a little to see the image better.

It’s a bit difficult to determine since it’s only a roughly sketched side profile with a hood worn, blocking the hair, but he’s sure as hell those are certainly not eyes of a man, looking ultimately feminine and provocative. He doesn’t know, but those eyes are somewhat achingly familiar. And those plump lips that held a suggestive smile? He’s fully convinced that it’s a woman.

“A woman? That’s in no way a fair lady. Women here in Stohess stay at home and polish their husbands’ boots.” That’s what the Military Police officer said as well when he told it’s a woman.

Fucking sexists. Not that he cares, though.

Levi stops by the said pub, pushing on the saloon doors before walking to a table of three men, boisterously laughing like crazy. It’s dark and warm inside, the trademark ambience of local bars eating up the whole place. “Any of you seen this guy?” he lazily asks, showing the piece of paper to their faces.

Their eyes dart on the illustration before all of them fall silent, throwing looks at each other, and Levi can swear he could hear the rusty gears in their pea sized brain turn.

When they keep quiet, he almost surmises they turned mute upon seeing him and is about to leave them alone, finding them completely useless. He just wants to finish this task, and quick.

“Heard ya were a nasty criminal in the Underground,” the guy on his left comments and drinks the beer at hand, briefly pausing, “ya can’t seriously be turnin’ y’er back on that kinda past,” he smugly continues.

Levi’s brows twitch in irritation. How is that relevant to what he asked?

“Just answer the damn question,” he orders assertively and slams the paper onto their tabletop. The guys exchange gazes once again like it’s some sort of stupid inside code.

“What makes ya think ya can fool us? We know you’ll arrest us off the bat if we answer, young’un,” the man continues, his company still speechless. What, is he the leader of their pack or something?

The way they stare him down with the most condescending eyes is ticking him off to ridiculous measures, he could’ve knocked them out cold one by one already if not for the fact that they obviously know something, and nobody else is in the pub other than them and the staff.

“I don’t give two shits about your work. I’m not asking for you, I’m looking for this guy right here,” he jabs a finger into the poster, causing every one of them to look at it once more.

“I ain’t convinced—”

Levi has had enough of their refusal and decides to pull out his knife, kick the very chair the garrulous man is sitting on to drop him on the ground, beer spilling everywhere, before using the dirty sole of his boot to shove the man’s cheeks against the wooden floor.

He kneels down on his right knee, his other foot still stepping on the man’s face, and points the tip of his freshly sharpened knife just a few centimeters from his eyeball, which earns him a whimper of surprise.

“Gonna stop yakking any minute now?” Levi asks. It’s a bit surprising to him that the bartender of the pub didn’t meddle the whole time for pressing on his customers, oddly similar to the lukewarm nature of his hometown.

The two men freeze in fear, afraid that if they do anything to counter the soldier’s menace, their good friend might suffer and go blind. How worthless.

After a couple more seconds, the old geezer eventually gives in and speaks. “That’s our dealer,” he admits, voice weak and shaky. Levi cocks a brow and listens, finally getting the information he‘s aiming for.

“Guy’s been selling drugs that originated from the Underground,” he adds.

“Coderoin?”

“Yeah. He never shows up to us buyers, only sends brokers to deliver.”

“That’s not a man,” Levi corrects again, slowly getting convinced it’s someone he knows from way back. The descriptions about the wanted dealer and the way she arranges things precisely match, not to mention the poster looking exactly like her.

“I told you I won’t end up in brothels, Levi. I created something, and it’s doing great,” she says with a proud smile painted on her colored lips.

“What is it?”

“Coderoin.”

But the soldier only sounds out of his tree in the listeners’ ears, and they immediately speak to nullify his scarcely credible conspiracy theory. “There’s no way. Women here in Stohess—”

Yeah, he gets it. If they don’t believe it then let it be. See, this is why they haven’t caught the culprit for the past years, because they’re looking for a damn male.

“Where was she last seen?” Levi asks, completely dismissing their words, but the guy tries to oppose the small detail once again. ��That’s a man—“

“Where was she last seen?” he repeats, cutting off his hostage’s words while he flattens with his boot the man’s cheeks in such a way as to crush his skull, emphasizing what really is important here and what he’s actually asking for. Levi ignores how the poor guy yelps in pain, waiting for intel he can benefit from.

“I don’t know!” he truthfully says, face already deforming from the forceful contact, having difficulty breathing.

“She lives at the skid row,” the bartender chimes in as he wipes on a glass, turning Levi’s head his way. Someone who knows her real identity, huh?

“How do you know?” he keeps his foot down and quizzes, looking for the authenticity in his words. The runt might be fooling him for all he knows, a trap to lure him in.

“I live there,” he simply says. “I don’t have business with her so it won’t be bad if I rat out on her,” he shrugs and turns his back to return to working. The guys listen, puzzled about what they’re talking about.

The ravenhead thinks for a moment, then rising to this heels, kicking away the head he was previously pulverizing before heading out the bar to make off.

In the end, none of them was substantial but the barkeep. And in Levi’s humblest opinion, the guy whom he mostly talked to should drop his so-called friends who didn’t even have the guts to drag their pal out of his plight, being one who gets rid of ineffective people himself.

He looks up at the gloomy afternoon skies once he exits, the clouds moving as he thinks about a variety of stuffs from his past. Envisioning and etching into his brain the familiar silky locks, rose red lips, and a pair of sultry eyes, he then starts walking.

Now, to find you.

—

With the help of the villagers’ directions, he’s arrived at the said skid row by foot. It surprises Levi a lot, having not expected to see a number of resemblances between the Underground and the surface. The visible corruption is no different from down there, with certain rundown areas openly exposed, just a couple blocks away from extravagant neighborhoods. That just goes to show that people’s amoral natures don’t change wherever they go.

He scans his eyes around, studying the dark and uninviting alleyways, the narrow paths, and the compressed townhouses. It’s almost as if the sun refuses to shine here.

This place isn’t any less than a junkyard, he thinks, coming from someone who has just escaped from one.

He takes a step forward to head to the flat where you apparently reside, only to get stopped by a bunch of gangsters, another guy putting his hands on Levi’s shoulders. An animal touching him with filthy fingers, something he hates the most.

“Where do you think you’re going, kid?” the insect says as he looks down on the soldier’s short stature, showing not a droplet of respect. “What’s a scout soldier doing here? There ain’t no titans here, boy!” There’s nothing they love to ridicule more than suicidal people under the disguise of a uniform.

He immediately uses his clean hands that would unfortunately be dirtied as he removes the assaulter’s arm away from him, squeezing it with great force before twisting the whole limb around with full intentions to dislocate it.

The man screeching in pain, Levi gives him a good kick in the face, causing him to fall to the ground, unconscious. Of course, there’s three more left standing. Even if they’re rendered speechless and horrified, he still can’t let bothersome runts on the loose.

One of the delinquents attempts to swing a fist at him, a sorry excuse for a punch by the way, only to get hit right in the guts, disgusting spit flying everywhere. The other tries to slash a knife, which he only snatches away with nimble fingers before hitting a nerve on the neck to knock the guy out cold.

The last one, hairline already receding and looking grey, tries to hit him with a bat. It’s a pitiful sight to look at, really, how they all think they could give him a good beating when they approached him. He crouches down to dodge the weapon, dragging his dominant leg on the floor to kick sweep the old fart off of his toes, head falling against the solid concrete.

Dusting his hands to rid himself of the muck he gained from fighting them, Levi stands upright in vexation and observes as they either squirm or doze off on their own. A flock of vagrants that has got to learn how to keep their hands to themselves.

The thing is, he has had enough of drunkards trying to get on his way. He just wants to get his job done, bring you to those impotent MP’s and get this reputation Erwin kept saying to secure his position for a lifetime.

When finally sets foot on your alleged doorstep, he tries for three knocks, waiting for a response. As much as he wants to finish this task, he doesn’t want to barge in your suite, if possible, because he’d also hate it if it’s done to him. He tries again, focusing to catch with his ears any faint sound.

Minutes pass by and he turns the knob open to find out it’s unlocked the whole time, all his deliberations of keeping still and going down the drain.

It’s quiet and empty.

Levi freely enters, keeping an eye out for attackers, if there are. It’s small, but enough for one person.

He goes with the assumption that you live alone, and maybe don’t have any flings. He still remembers how you latch onto different guys back in the day to have them arrange deals for you. Yeah, you had a way with your words, especially towards men. The epitome of a social butterfly.

But maybe it’s not like that anymore, now that you’re in a city like this with rich people out and about.

How did you wind up here in the first place?

He keenly observes as he goes further in. To your credit, the place is relatively clean. No scattered trash, no messy clothing, and the furniture are well organized. Well, that’d be essential to make an innocent front and hide your junk evidence. But still, impressive.

Nothing really seems malicious at first glance. So far, no one’s coming out, and there are no drugs to be found.

He stumbles upon two more closed doors. He finds that one of them is a bathroom, and the other your bedroom. Aside from those, there’s nowhere else to go. He enters your personal space, looking for something peculiar.

Your bed is fixed, sheets folded nicely. You had a study desk, and a bookshelf. Based from the covers’ titles, they’re all about science. Tch. It’s a dead giveaway. No matter how much you tried to make an oh-so normal living space, those books would be a suspicious lead.

Now what? You’re nowhere to be seen.

Is she home?

He looks around the room looking for an ashtray or even a fire because somehow, it reeks of burning cigarettes, like it’s being consumed at the moment.

Something finally clicks inside of him. Of course, you’re a damn drug lord. An infamous one, at that. You’ll need someplace to hide once all hell breaks loose, and someplace to hide your stuff.

Levi uses his boot to lift the carpet he’s currently stepping on, and finds, just what he expects, a trapdoor. Clever, but not too much.

He then vigorously kicks the door open, which nearly bursts it off of its hinges, if not already. It swings down loosely, losing its assistive joints. He ignores the wooden ladder provided and instead jumps down, dropping on his knees.

“Now you gotta fix that,” says a soft and seductive voice that is definitely no stranger the young man.

Levi raises his gaze and finally finds you, sitting on a chair in the opposite end of a long presidential table, smoking a mint cigarette, and the stench reaches his nostrils. That’s where the ashy pong was coming from.

The secret chambers appear almost pit black from the lack of natural light if not for the candle sconces built on the walls all around, and the lone lantern situated on the table.

He scrutinizes you for a moment, meeting your luscious, glowing eyes. Your hair is styled just the way he remembers, luxuriant, untied, and flowing in sync with your movements. Your plump lips shaded red, fierce like how you want it. Your figure voluptuous by your feminine puff sleeved dress, black front laced corset over top hugging at your curves. For a dress so dainty, you ultimately still looked provocative.

Actually, he kind of understands how it’s unbelievable for such a lady to be a criminal of ill repute. Although nothing much has changed with you external-wise, your youthful attributes have only matured beautifully, and you’ve indeed grown up to be an enchanting woman.

“It’s me. You’ve found me,” you claim, feeling his strong stare burning into your skin. What, does he not recognize you now?

It’s totally the other way round. Every single one of your physical features under the warm candlelight’s reflection keeps rekindling memories inside his head, some just flat out inappropriate.

“So you are the goddamn drug dealer,” he states, not any less than a confirmation.

“Drug dealer is a bit brusque, don’t you think?” you comment with a smile. Anything but to be called a drug dealer. How cheap.

“I’ve been thinking about it, and I think I prefer to go with narco hustler, rolls off the tongue just right,” you suggest. It sounds plain dumb to Levi’s ears, you had zero taste. “Okay, maybe it doesn’t,” you take back upon seeing his seriously bored expression. He has always been one so hard to read, but now he just looks evidently repulsed.

Levi stays standing across of you, resting his arm on top of the other, and leans back against the ladder. Maintaining respective distance, he decides to linger for a bit, intrigued by what stories you must got.

“Rumor has it you’re one of them now. Guess it’s true,” you posite as you observe his physique, wearing a uniform jacket with the wings of “freedom”. Couldn’t he have joined the MP’s out of the three? Lame.

The young man watches back as you lift your wrist up and bring the stick to your delicate lips, inhaling a lungful before blowing the smoke upwards, and he could easily feel how you held yourself up with superiority. Nothing new with the headstrong woman that you are.

“What the fuck are you doing up here?” he inquires right away, genuinely curious of your sudden disappearance years ago. He knew full well you weren’t dead, but he never got his hands on news about you.

“Huh? What the fuck are you doing up here, too? You surely downgraded from being a crime boss to a pongo’s dog. Seriously?” you retort cheekily. Last time you checked, he was doing well with his gang, couldn’t he have stayed that way?

He massages the temples of his forehead with closed eyes. Your words are making him think back to his decisions, but not too deeply. He reluctantly contemplates if it’s alright telling you things, but chooses to do so. You had a spot in his life, too, no matter how small. And he’s going to arrest you anyway.

“Lot of complications. It was all supposed to be a job to kill the Section Commander then we’d get granted citizenship…” he trails off, unsure of whether to go on or stop there, “but things took a turn.”

“Hmm?” you hum, waiting for his continuation.

He stays silent and refuses to say a word.

“Alright then. Well what about… who was it? Farlan and Isabel?” you ask cluelessly, thinking if you got their names right.

He sighs. It was exactly what he was trying to avoid. “They’re in the Survey Corps now as well?” you quiz, partially interested. You already know the answer. Who would leave their beloved boss? You just know for sure it won’t be them.

“They’re gone,” he averts his gaze, expertly hiding his emotions away with thick pride.

Your eyes largen a little in realization. “Oh. Sorry.” He catches you put out your cigarette by prodding its cherry into the glass ashtray. There’s still about half left but you paid no extra mind, and it says a lot about your well heeled state.

Enough about him. “What exactly happened to you?” Levi questions, and you prop your elbows on the tabletop, interlacing your fingers together before resting your chin on them.

“Bought citizenship,” you start off, never taking your glance off him. He‘s hot all right, still a sight for sore eyes. Heavily improved, even. It has been five years, after all. You admit, he aged like the finest wine there is.

“A pain in the pockets, yes. But worth it.” You pucker your lips and furrow your brows together upon remembering your old situations.

“Underground folks were becoming cheapskates day by day! Can you believe it? They’re trying to buy two-fifty for, what, five bronze coins? My stuff are as expensive as your maneuvering gear, you know!” you complain, memories of being wrongly paid years ago flashing through your brain.

That’s life. At least you’re well off now. That’s what’s important.

He rakes his eyes around the room and finds stacks and stacks of packaged tablets, same ones as those Erwin showed him.

“Coderoin, huh?” he comments, testing the word on his tongue. Nothing special with the name, probably came from the scientific components. He doesn’t give a rat’s ass.

The warm temperature from the window restricted room urges him to remove his jacket, and so he eventually does. You try not to raise both your eyebrows in captivation as you see the outlines of his muscular torso tracing through his clothes, his veiny forearms exposed by his cuffed shirt.

“I haven’t released it yet, but I just finished formulating a liquified version to easily shoot it up the veins for a more elongated and ecstatic experience,” you proudly brag to divert your attention as well, and Levi cocks a brow in confusion. Haven’t released it yet?

“The MP’s already know there’s a new formula,” he informs, recalling what the Commander said when he was educating him about it earlier.

“What? Already?” you ask, gasping in surprise. It’s a given that word spreads around here fast, but you’re doing your best to work in confidentiality. Some big-mouthed brokers of yours must be babbling.

“Yeah.”

“See how famous I am?” You giggle, letting the issue slide.

“Everyone thinks you’re a man.”

“What?” you ask again, completely scandalized, eyes widening in repulsion. They cannot be serious. You never knew that! Not even your associates told you!

It’s a bit amusing to him how that almost looks like it matters to you the most. Do you even know why he’s here? You don’t seem to be questioning his out of nowhere presence.

“You’re a drug abuser. It’s natural for people to think that way,” he says, eyeing your reactions.

“That’s mean! I’m not an addict. In fact, I don’t even do those often,” you oppose a matter-of-factly. It’s not half a lie, you probably had one the past week, but aside from that, you never took it recently. This stuff is for the customers to abuse. You don’t really have an avid addiction to it.

Honestly speaking, being one for dirty felonies ending just a couple months back, he couldn’t care less what kind of profession you had, as long as people find their own way to live, he’d immediately—but only mentally—give kudos to them. It’s hard enough trying to survive in a corrupt system.

You lived all by yourself back then. You were a tough and independent one, he’d give you that. You helped him with particular deals. Important ones.

In actuality, it’s solely because of you that he got his hands on certain armaments like the ODMG. It was hard to obtain those, seeing as it’s a highly illegal trade and costs an arm and a leg. Though on the plus side, it made his stealings more convenient and less a pain in the ass.

But he wouldn’t say you’re good friends, nor are you on the same gang. Associates, he would say. At times, something even more than associates. Oh, it’s not anything close to romantic. Just something beneficial on both sides.

“I mean at least I’m not a squaddie now, playing soldier like you,” you add, playfully mocking him. Levi throws you a glare of the same energy. It’s not like he wanted this. He’s got no choice, it’s better than going back to that sunken town, alone at that matter.

“You don’t show up to people here,” he surmises from what he learned. As you rise to your feet and walk to the piles of boxes, you fail to notice how he gives your form a runover, from head to toe, his eyes involuntarily staying on some shapely areas.

“This is where I bring my brokers. I’m not going face-to-face with my dear buyers now. What if they sell out on me? Can’t trust people nowadays.” It’s true, because back there, everyone was a criminal in their own ways. You grab a small bag of the tablets and turn around to show him, dangling it mid-air.

“But I’m telling you, people here are as generous as lords. It’s basically easy money everyday,” you say and throw him the drawstring bag, which he catches with one hand in maximum proficiency, the action causing his arms to flex a little. Oh, those muscles. Suave.

“You’re living in a dumpster.”

“It’s called a sentimental value,” you dismiss.

Levi pours some out and takes a moment to observe the packed drugs on his palm, the blue color even and smooth. He’s never found himself drawn to this kind of thing, but he understands the usage. Something to escape from reality for a short period of time.

“I never expected you to turn on your past, of all people,” you mindlessly comment, causing him to look at you with furrowed brows. Though you never meant that the bad way and just wanted to speak your mind, your choice of words still strike a nerve from within him.

Why the fuck are people on the surface keep acting like angels as if they’re any better? At this point, he’d prefer his hometown people over some half assed drug addicts.

This should be enough for today. He carelessly chitchatted for long, almost forgetting his true purpose of being here. It’s too bad he has to ruin your oh-so perfect life. Well, there’s not much he can do about that as it’s how the cookie crumbles. Dragging people down to rise up the ranks is part of the norm in this wretched society, it’s just unfortunate he has to do it to you.

“Say, what if you join me? Leave the Corps and let’s team up. You can run the errands, and I stay here to formulate,” you continue to propose, fully unaware that you ticked him off just a second ago, bringing him back to earth.

“I can’t. Apparently, I’m a soldier now,” he straight up rejects and starts to walk up to you, handcuffs ready by his belt.

Taken aback by his deadpan refusal, you tilt your head in an attempt to understand. “Well then, if that’s what you want.”

“What I want is for you to come with me,” the soldier finally admits, showing the restraining shackles he has at hand.

Realization dawns upon you, and you feel a bit dense. Oh, right. He did welcome himself into your home, completely unannounced.

A dry and bitter chuckle leaves your throat continuously, dissolving into a long thread of laughter that echoes around the spacious room, resembling those of a mentally deranged woman. Levi’s forehead knots in a mix of puzzlement and irritation as he waits for you to calm down.

Your fit of entertainment starts to boil down, tears of satiric bliss filling your ducts. You wipe them off timidly, building up the manner of being a prim and proper lady. “Sorry… that was funnier than I expected,” you apologize, and he couldn’t quite understand what you want to come across with. He waits for your explanation.

“Buzz off, will you?” you ask of him once you finish composing yourself.

“What?” the man quizzes.

Your face turns dead serious as you fish a tiny pouch from your dress’ pockets, throwing it lazily to the table, contents spilling mid air due to the loosened tie. An abundance of golden coins shower all over the place and fall suspendedly to the ground.

“I’m telling you to fuck off. Now,” you don’t flash him even the smallest of smiles as you curtly give him the order.

You’re bribing him.

And fuck, did you drive him round the twist, he has never felt so insulted his whole life.

Is it because you’re doing well than him now despite the honorability of occupation? Is it because it’s coming from someone he knows from the past? Is it because of your tone so ludicrously condescending it’s making every single drop of blood in his body boil?

“Need more? Why don’t we negotiate upstairs with the amount that will send you away?” you carry on with casting aspersions on him.

What a jackass. After all you’ve done for him? There’s nothing you hate more than shameless traitors, and this guy in front of you doesn’t bat an eye about being one.

Meanwhile, you were rubbing to his face the looming difference between his stability and yours. And of course, it doesn’t matter whose reputation is better, because both of you were miscreants at one point in life. The only distinction is: you gladly kept on with that line of work, and he was forced with his.

Levi takes big strides to reach your form, dropping both the jacket and the drugs he was holding. He’s furious, but he refuses to show. All he wants now is for you to shut your filthy mouth.

He lunges at you and slams you against the wall, wrapping his fingers around your neck. An involuntary whimper slips past your lips, and it certainly feeds his ego to see you so helpless. “Shut your damn mouth,” he bellows, tone imposing the dangers you could get from rubbing him up the wrong way.

You’re not about to give him what he wants. He’s barking up the wrong tree here, treating you so indiferrently for what? For letting him in and being hospitable? For offering him a generous partnership? Can you believe this guy? He’d throw your acquaintance off the window for his own sake. Selfish crab.

“Hate to see your ally so successful?” you attempt to breathe out, one hand trying to unclasp his fingers, one hand aiming to claw your nails at his face. He slaps it away before you can make contact and increases pressure.

Your eyes well up from the suffocating pain as he robs you of air supply, choking you tightly and pressing roughly. Crap!

“That’s—all you got?” you struggle to challenge him, same time trying to pull the slightest amount of oxygen into your lungs you can catch on.

Your dare does absolutely nothing but piss him off. Wow, you’re a bitch to try and control. Levi has the means to tighten his grip. It doesn’t even matter to the MP’s if he brings you dead as long as he can hand over the evidence. But he won’t go that far, because that far would be killing you off.

Staying that way for a moment longer, he examines your facial expression, still brave and never surrendering. He then lets go of you, but only by throwing you to the hard ground. Your back hits the flooring and you squint your eyes in sharp ache, all the while desperately breathing for any available air.

“Rot in hell,” you curse at him in great detestation. Lying back, you gently caress your neck as if to heal the reddened skin from the harsh force he applied.

Levi sighs, collecting himself, and kneels down in level with your weakened body. Maybe he went too hard on you. He has got to keep his temper at bay.

“Sorry,” he genuinely says. It’s not everyday he says that word, but when he does, he accepts that he’s mistaken. A bit surprised, you peer at him with a bleary vision, finding a scowl on his face as he admits his wrongdoing.

You swear you were ready to laugh it all out and forgive him, if not for the fact that he’s currently grabbing the handcuffs, still determined to arrest you. How sincere of him. What exactly was he apologizing for again?

You wait for him to scoot over, discreetly regaining steady breath as you stay laying down. You’re not the best at countering someone combat wise, but growing up a female in the Underground has taught you a couple moves enough to stall you some time to escape.

As he finally crouches beside you, you jolt up to sit and sling two of your arms around his nape and under his armpit, pulling him towards you before throwing him beside with the strength you can manage to utilize.

When did you learn that move? It baffles Levi a little, but he won’t let you have your way. His weight isn’t something you could overlook, that you’re dragged along with and on top of him. The moment you try to quickly prop yourself up and make a run, he grabs your waist and rolls over to bring you back down, straddling on top of you.

“I’ll kill you!” you spit to his face, once again feeling betrayed. You never once thought he’d drive you into a corner do this to you.

“That’s cute of you,” he says in graceful sarcasm. You fight him back with a piercing glare, but he only looks back at you with those apathetic, steel grey eyes. Nothing has changed within them, they’re still cold and indecipherable. It matches his personality well.

Apathetic? He can’t be all that bad, he’s just human. He has needs, one way or another.

You stick a hand out to pull his dark locks, and for once, you actually succeed. He hisses in irritation. He should have expected you’d put up a fight, but he doesn’t get why he’s just straight up pissed. Talk about annoying.

He doesn’t expect it when you forcefully yank him in for a deep kiss, the sudden motion causing your lips to crash together, freezing him in place. It’s all just to take him by surprise and then you’d gab the chance to run away in haste. Cheap trick, but worth a shot. If this will work, that is.

Earlier than he can try to push you away, you kick your knee into his abdomen and hurl him aside with all your might, doing your best to head to the ladder leading up to the trapdoor. But Levi is quick on his feet and kicks your leg to make you lose balance. Tripping over yourself, you fall toward the table, your stomach plowing into its side frames. He will never let you escape.

You inwardly curse him for being such a headache. Before you know it, your left arm is rashly held behind your back and you shriek in pain, your cheek shoved down onto the tabletop. Shit. He got you there.

“Can’t you be any gentler?” you ask, voice soft and of forged innocence, which is patently just an attempt to con him. He ignores you and instead starts wearing one part of the handcuffs around your wrist from behind. You think of anything to get yourself out of this. Chuckling dryly, “Hey… I told you already. Let’s talk things out,” you woo, but to no avail. Levi twists your arm a bit, not too much, but enough to shut you up. He sure is enraged.

A lock clicks from one of the shackles and you feel the cold steel wrap your frail wrist. It’s happening, the most humiliating moment for a criminal. You’re all tapped out of ideas—

with your limited field of vision, you scan your eyes around what you can see, finding a trail of drugs scattered on the ground. It must be from when he launched at you and tried to strangle you to death. Although you still don’t know why he did that, you bury the thought to the back of your head to come up with a plan.

—except one.

A smile creeps up your lips, one that appears when you just figured out something clever. Alright, then. Let’s see what else is enraged.

Not giving him the chance to lock both your hands together, from your held up position, you perk your bum up a little to make a feel for his crotch. Your thick cheeks hit something poking and you giggle in festivity. It so turns out your hunch is right, his bulge is, indeed, straining from inside his pants.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he stops dead in his tracks and questions, more like an order for a valid answer.

With your bended over form being perfectly convenient, you wiggle your ass and stick it up against his obviously aching groin, teasing it even more. It’s a shame you’re both wearing clothes, your titillating movements ending up just mere friction.

“My, my. How long has it been like that?” you jest, voice about half an octave high and femininely suggestive. His brows knit in pique and flips you over to make you face him and to put a halt to your indecent measures. You click your tongue in mock, elbow propped against the table to look up at him.

“What a naughty soldier,” you whisper with a satisfied smirk, and reach a hand out to pull his cravat, yanking him down and in for another kiss. This time, it’s you who won’t let him escape, with nothing else but a nice trick for women to prevail over men.

It makes his hackles raise how you try to enter his mouth with your probing tongue like you’re the one in foremost control. As if he’ll let that happen.

He pushes your tongue back and bites your lower lip, earning him entrance along with a quiet mewl. He then travels your wet cavern with his own, forcefully exploring every inch to show you who’s in charge, like always. There and then, he instantly distinguishes the mint flavored nicotine evenly mixed in with your sweet saliva. It interests him how five years have already passed, and yet you consistently taste the same. Up until here, you never dropped the habit of smoking.

You try to fight back and earn your place, hooking both your heels into his hips to draw him closer. Even if it’s utterly inappropriate and misplaced, you quickly feel your pussy drip with excitement. Everything feels so nostalgic.

Amidst the kiss, his palm begins to roam around your body, from your neck to your chest. Levi finds the corset a hindrance, and he takes note to go back to it later, maybe rip it apart as well.

He resumes exploring your body, from your tummy, to your clothed womanhood. It starts to rile you up and turn you on as he slips his hand under your dress, not bothering to lift it up, just blindly cupping for your sex. When he finally feels your panties, you know for certain he smirked.

“You’re not so frigid yourself,” he comments upon the discovery that your growing wetness is soaking the fabric. He slides one finger against your slit, your undergarment still in between. He gently rubs on it as he sucks on your soft lips, earning him quiet moans in return. What a nasty tease.

When you both pull away for air, you open your eyes to look daringly straight into his grey ones, and while you exchange stares, you also let go of his cravat and grab his hand as if to guide them deeper and further in. He finds that you’re more than just eager when you put his hand inside, now in touch with your intimate skin. He gladly takes your offer and tears your panties away, his vigor making you laugh breathily.

Levi plunges two fingers in without delay, and you yield in defeat, letting him do as he likes. He has no intentions of lurking around the corner. You let your head hang back as he does you with his slick fingers, moaning to your will when he hits your good spots.

He lets his unreasonable hate and anger dissipate into nothingness, allowing himself to be indulgent in giving you pleasure. It’s been so long that this almost serves as your reunion. He doesn’t mind that. Just as long as he keeps in mind his sole purpose of breaking in to take him with you.

The ravenhead watches you spread your legs wider, visibly aching for more as you surrender to him and give him full control over your body. He moves his dexterous fingers in and out, the rhythm exquisite like how you prefer it. It’s like he still memorized you the same. Your responsive hums are tempting and fervid, your bodily movements a subtle indication of a longing. He increases his speed, looking for an angle to rub you up good, and he knows he hit it right when you shudder a little, back falling to the table and grip losing.

He lets on with working his hand, your juices coating his fingertips as he jabs them in deep repeatedly. It’s a flattering sight to see you so lost and vulnerable singlehandedly by his mere touch, and he would be lying if he says it doesn’t turn him on.

Your sweet, melodious moans resonate inside the whole of the chambers, music to Levi’s ears. Your mouth partly hanging open, eyes in but a permanent daze as you struggle to crack them open. The way he has you going crazy is beautiful. You’re beautiful. Not half-bad-looking for a woman about to approach her thirties.

Out of nowhere, a mood ruining thought crosses his mind. He recalls you saying this place is where you bring your brokers. And since your neighbors haven’t found out your true identity and racket yet, having a clump of men visit your apartment could entirely be misleading.

It’s only natural that they think you’re some kind of courtesan selling your body. Knowing you, you don’t give a flying fuck if people think that, but with him, it doesn’t sit right. Who knows? Maybe you actually humor the same men every once in a while. Just look at what you’re doing now.

A grim expression materializes on his face. No, he’s not jealous. But in all honesty, he wants what’s his to stay his.

You couldn’t think of anything as he harshly thrusts his fingers into you, your body’s consciousness focusing only on the uprising pleasure, but when you’re this close to coming, all of a sudden, he pulls them out at once, grabs your hands and finally locks both your wrists together with the handcuffs before pinning them on top of your head.

Cruelly left hanging, a wave of disappointment rushes over your veins. “You’ve got to be fucking joking me,” you whine, genuinely annoyed as you’re already fully installed and waiting for your explosion. Did he do that on purpose? Yes. But to your surprise, he doesn’t do anything to lift you up or bring you with him to jail.

Brows furrowed and eyes dark, Levi unties your corset’s lacing in a rapaciously eager manner, harshly pulling down the garter of your neckline to let your boobs bounce free. Your eyes widen a little when he pulls your skirt up to gain thorough access of your fruity folds. You didn’t expect him to continue on, with you restrained, even.

“Just like the good old days, huh?” you tease, voice awash with prurience. Although this reminds you of those days, this is surely going to be a new experience. While handcuffed? You love it, and just thinking about him pounding you out as you’re unable to lay your hands on him makes your neck hairs straighten in great arousal. You’re totally into this!

He’s suddenly reminded of years ago when you’d come over to catch up with the latest trades, or simply just bring with you your babbling of the day. Oftentimes, the visit ends up in the bedroom, the couch, the kitchen.

You were both young, both helping fill each other’s primitive needs and desires, not the thinnest string left attached. You handled the whole thing casually, the whole thing being just lustful sex every once in a while. Fuck buddies. That’s what they call it.

Memories of your heated body rubbing up against his, lips messy on one another’s skin, hands everywhere, nude and naked—sometimes still completely clothed, fucking you against the wall, fucking you on the counter, and finally, you kneeling on the floor as you eat him up hungrily. All of those, just five years ago.

He’s only proven you haven’t changed despite the time difference when you kick your kitten heels away like you disregard its price, stretch your right leg out to reach his crotch, your foot making a feel for his huge bulge.

He looks down to his pants, your toes stroking his covered length invitingly as if to provoke it. “You’re one fucking dirty bitch,” he points out upon your indecorous actions, meeting your catlike eyes illuminating nothing but indiscriminate salacity.

“We’re not all that different, see?” you tell, never tearing your gaze off him as you continue moving your foot up and down. He’s straining so bad, almost making you giggle. Come on, Levi. You’re just as aching as me. We could use a quickie.

He sternly grabs your ankle to stop your lewd ways and keeps quiet until you speak. Does he really think he can stop you from acting so dirty? You then bring your chained wrists to your chest, gently massaging your exposed breasts with what space you can manage, giving him a little show you know he can’t resist.

“I mean, just look at you, wearing a cheesy cravat like it’s gonna make you look dignified,” you poke fun at him and laugh, flashing him a grin before seductively licking your lips. He clicks his tongue in annoyance, but is still unable to take his eyes off of your body as you continue to play with your very own mounds.

“Shut up,” he orders, stripping the authority in his tone. Oh… you know him perfectly well. It’ll only take one last trigger for him to fire away and spring into action.

“You shut up and just fuck me,” you demand candidly, the smile in your face disappearing in the blink of an eye.

You like to think he’s one hell of a dog as he listens to your whim, undoes his trousers, only dropping them so far because of his difficult, complicated, and inhibiting harnesses. What a costume. He glares at you when you raise a sly brow at him, cocky expression conveying the words: still wanna be a soldier?

Levi just wants you to shut up for real, and he victoriously does that by pulling your body closer to the end of the table, then practically ramming his huge dick inside you, his massiveness able to cover your whole depth when he mercilessly buries it in. A long and sonorous moan leaves your throat in the utmost pleasure. Shit, he’s so big! Your tight walls are forced to adjust, desperately stretching to adapt to his size.

“Oh, fuck!” you exclaim, throwing your head back to release your emotions, eyes clenching shut in nauseating pain. Overwhelming! Can a man in his age still grow? You didn’t expect this in any way. It sure hurts like a bitch, but that’s just one of the reasons why you love it.

The cadet starts moving in a pace that tells you he won’t be beating around the bush, quick and rough. The only thing you’re worrying about is the soreness that you’ll get once this is finished, because right now—you’ve said it two times—you love it.

His anger seeping as he forces his dick in and out of your fuckhole, Levi finds it an entertaining cabaret as he watches you, your makeshift play consisting of you opening your mouth wide to moan in fervor, whipping your head side to side, eyelids falling while he quickly drives you to the brink of insanity. One bewitching whore, he thinks.

He bucks his hips even faster and spreads your legs wider apart to let you have what you want, violent and aggressive. Like an obedient lady’s man, Levi spoils your carnality by licking his middle and forefinger to rub your engorged clit, his spit helping him circle the most sensitive spot in ease.

You arch your back up in surprise, your nerves receptive in alerting you of the littlest motions. He’s so good. So good that your brain is going blank, unknowing of what to do. When you squirm under him, try to shoot up and search something to hold on for dear life, only to fall back against the table, your manacled hands suddenly add up to the gratifying thrill stirred with powerlessness. It makes Levi smirk for a fleeting second.

Not so free now, are you?

Simultaneously, Levi deepens his thrusts and starts to rubbing your clit directly to intensify the sensation, back and forth, up and down. With fervent eyes, he feasts on your body as it loses control, tits bouncing from his relentless humps, pussy unendingly leaking. Out of reflex, you try to wriggle away, but to no avail. You’re losing your mind by his marvelous stimulation, and you remember just how he feels like before.

The humidity is starting to take over your bodies, and you both feel hotter. The dark room, the rattling of the lantern on the table, sweat beginning to break through your skins, his stifled grunts, your loud wails, both your heads full of lustful desire. Who knew an apprehension would end up like this? Purely lewd. Seems normal to you, though.

The telltale signs of your upcoming orgasm appear. Your walls envelop around him tightly, your moans longer and hitching, your breaths shaky as you catch it and whatnot. The immense pleasure that keeps gradually stacking up inside your veins finally snaps free, and you come with unruly convulsions. Eyeballs rolling to the back of your skull, your cunt contracting around him, he doesn’t stop, and fuck is it overbearing.

His dick reaching the end of you, his merciless thrusts unwavering when you’re obviously trembling uncontrollably, he’s a damn ruthless lad. The amount of spasms you receive is livid, you so wanted to applaud yourself for choosing the perfect guy. Exceptional taste.

Your high eventually tones down and you’re back to awareness. The demon stops moving soon as well, deciding maybe you’ve had enough.

You gasp for breath after losing your grip from the mind boggling experience. It’s been so long since you’ve had amazing sex, and when you say so long, you mean excruciatingly long years. You study him as he looks back at you. Still so dominant, isn’t he? Refusing to get off the same time you do.

Alright. You’ve had enough mindless nooky. Now it’s time to break free from his clutches. From your lied down position, you then proceed to distract him with some ramblings.

“You better not be fucking your comrades like this,” you quip, collecting yourself.

“I’m not like you,” Levi answers and pulls out, thinking about how much men you’ve entertained your whole life. You cock a brow upon hearing his smart assed reply and mock him again, a giggle escaping your mouth, “Gonna keep acting so clean?” He should know not to continue wanting to look like a saint. He’s not any different than you, for shit’s sake.

“You have a screwed up background, Levi. You can’t seriously be thinking your superiors will be in favor of you just because you lick their boots,” you honestly advise. Disgusting. One moment he’s leading his people, then being ordered around the next.

It’s this again. You shamming like you’re so immaculate. He’d prefer it if you get off your high horse.

“I’m giving you a chance, just quit and—“

“If you keep running your damn mouth, I’m going to make use of it,” he cuts you off before you can continue offering him a deal. It’s not that you genuinely believe he’ll go with it, you just want to stall him because you’re only playing by ear. One wrong move and he’ll stop you dead in your tracks.

His words pique your interest. Does he mean that in the sense that you think it is? “Oh yeah? And how?” you push his buttons to give it a shot.

Levi shows you what he means through grabbing you by the nape to yank you up, then dropping you to the floor, pretty face nearly shoved to the concrete. It hurts a tad, your knees hitting the ground roughly, but your eyes almost immediately dart on the bunch of azure tablets scattered everywhere, three of them within your reach. Perfect!

Quickly, you snatch them with both your hands in one fell swoop, and Levi miraculously misses out on your sneaky motions. You hiss a little in pain and close your palms together tightly when he pulls a fistful of your hair to hoist your head up. Forced to make eye contact with him from below, you momentarily meet his gaze brimming of disrespect before he dicks your mouth down with his length.

He pushes your head to his groin and pounds, so deep and so rash that you literally feel him hit the back of your throat. Tears pool from your ducts as you’re forced to take him inside your mouth. But he doesn’t get it wrong, because he knows you like it, of course.

With full intentions to reach his own end and cum on your pretty tongue, he shoves his erection into your warm cavern and tightens his hold on your now messy locks. He eyes you with resounding authority as you’re down on your knees with fettered hands on your lap, dress still on but tits bare and pouching outward from your neckline, looking up at him with glistening eyes like a good, well-behaved girl. It madly turns him on seeing you like that, what a view.

His fierce stale eyes prod you to bravely blink the tears away and independently move to your own will, proceeding to suck him with stupendous obedience. Fine then, you’ll go along with him. Nothing wrong about taking your time.

Levi throws his head back a little from your sudden motion, bobbing your head back and forth in harmony with his pumps, but quickly returns his gaze to you. You gladly eat his whole size without hesitation and keep your body still, nipples fully peaked in eagerness.

You’re always so damn good, just as he remembers. Never going without a challenge, the same lecherous emotions brewing within your orbs, listening to what you’re told. His grunts start to become audible.

“Look at you, sucking like a little slut,” he groans, slowly becoming unable to process things by your turn on serving him gratification. You give him a hum in response, the muffled sound creating a vibration as you continually hollow your mouth wide open against his thickness, sending chills up and down his spine. He inwardly curses, fuck.

Levi untangles his fingers from your strands, rests them on top of your head instead, and stops giving guidance, allowing you to perform well. You know just what to do and how to please him anyway.

You pull away, a loud and satisfying pop ringing inside the enclosed space upon losing connection. Panting, you inhale the air you could to prep yourself, temperate breath ghosting over his dampened skin. Time to take matter into your own devices. You glimpse at your interlaced fingers, clinking of metals reaching your ears. You can work this without using your hands. Let’s give him a show.

Pausing, you adore his intimidating thickness, the glowing pearls of precum impressively still there on its tip. You playfully swathe it with the edge of your tongue and look straight at him with a childlike gaze, the salty taste staining your buds. The sensitive area causes him shudder and shut his eyes closed inadvertently. And it’s rewarding to see him so affected, because this play is more about you controlling his pleasure, less about him being invulnerable. You feel your pussy trickle with desire.

Without any beating around the bush, you angle your neck a little to the right before gingerly taking him inside your mouth once again, closing in inch by inch. When you dauntlessly push forward until you’re on the verge of gagging, his size filled your throat the way you like it. Then, you go back to pumping in and out in a regular pace, sucking the tip harshly every once in a while.

Levi could feel himself approaching, his guttural groans set free and detectable. Fuck, you wanted to stroke him with your hands to add up to his growing euphoria, but you can’t.

This time round Levi is only able to peer at you from his drooping lids, following your every movements, and he finds winsome the way your cheeks lose its original shape due to his cock being inside, your lips lush and full around his shaft, tongue dancing in a way that mirrors the lantern’s fire. Moving in a very devious pace, you run a lick on the underside of his hot, veiny penis, lapping him up like a thirsty bitch. God, you are coy, and it’s taking him every last ounce of his resolve for his body not to react something close to pitiful submission.

It takes him one last blow for him to finally explode, a powerful rush spreading all throughout the ends of his limbs, his balls clenching as he shoots his cum deep inside your chops, to which you willingly gulp down, a satisfied ahh leaving your lungs like your quench for his seed has been solved.

The soldier mindlessly pats your head, and you give him a quiet purr before rising to your feet. We’re not finished yet.

As if your lips are magnetized into his own, you lean in and let them crash together. He answers back just the same, indicating he’s still up for some more. But you shouldn’t put your guard down, you might not know it if he knocks you out all of a sudden.

“You’re still the same nasty whore I know,” he vehemently growls in between the lip locking, intense flame starting to devour his system. “Shut up,” you talkback. You ache to touch him but these irksome shackles are on the way. You choose not to mind it anymore since it’s only a matter of minutes before you leave.

You push him back down to the chair and he sits down in force. “Pull my skirt up,” you order on a whim, and he does as he’s told, holding your skirt for you. You help yourself into the same chair and truss your knees beside his thighs, settling for a convenient position until you’re straddling his front, wrists on the chest’s top rail, then sitting on his fully stiff and awaiting cock. As you spread your laps apart to aim and sink down, you swear you almost went insane.

A lengthy, strenuous hum slips out your lips upon letting your tight cunt engulf his big dick. “Fuck,” you mutter, whipping your head back in zeal. You should try not to lose your mind or else.

Your stretched out neck grants him the opportunity to nibble at the delicate skin, sucking intensely to create a mark of ownership, the tangy flavor due to the thin film of sweat covering your skin. It stings a little when he nips, but almost tickling at the same time. You mewl and let Levi finish his job and lower your forehead to meet his glance.

It doesn’t take you long before returning to crashing into him, his distinct taste amusingly addictive to you. The kisses sloppy and unorganized, you begin to roll your hips up and down, and he thrusts upward to meet you like an animal in heat. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” he breathes out low.

You pull away to gasp for wind, chest stuttering and ragged from your unfaltering humps. “I know,” you brag and pause. The near to none distance between you two allows you to study his facial features and point out what changed by the years.

Hmm, not a lot really. He still looks twenty-four with his superbly chiseled jaw, slightly parted inviting lips, narrow nose, and the slim lining of his brows. Flawless and without fault, except for the darkening bags under his silver pools, which you dig by the way. He is, in fact, the godly embodiment of sexy, you bet women in his rank swoon for him only to be pushed aside. Lucky of you, you have a one of a kind charisma that drags this real life devil to his feet.

You look into each other’s face for a couple briefing moments, both of you discovering similar pairs of fiery eyes filled with lust in an overflowing amount. Meanwhile, his gaze dawdles on your red lips, color smudged by his doing, and he likes it. The longer he stares up at you, the more he’s convinced you’re nothing but a licentious woman hiding under your little renaissance dresses. Just thinking about it makes him want to fuck you so bad.

Levi refuses to stay still and dives into your breasts, causing your back to arch, unexpectedly hitting the perfect spot. He isn’t content and squeezes your butt, then letting his hands sit just at the top of your ass’ globes. “Levi—ah!” Shit! You desperately hold back your uprising orgasm. You have to stay in tact.

With that in mind and while he suckles on your twin mounds, you grab the chance to wring your clasped hands to your mouth, letting three of your dear coderoin melt and simmer under your tongue. This will have to do.

It’s thrilling, you’re about to drug a person who’s currently eating your boobs out hungrily in an alternating manner. What an odd situation. You wish you could continue fucking, but let’s not forget that Levi is very objective, and he’ll still eventually do his task no matter how much fun you spent with him. Before he can do that, you’ll just beat him to it.

You wait for the sweet, pungent tang to unravel, and when he lifts his chin to kiss you, the drugs are already diluted by your spittle. You skillfully transfer it into his mouth in a sparse method so he won’t notice right away.

Completely unaware, Levi gets to sparring with your tongue in a battle of ascendancy, his hands groping everywhere, and you don’t stop riding him gracefully like you didn’t do anything malicious at all.

With every grind being slick, an endless seduction, you continue enjoying yourself for the last lingering junctures. The constant sheathing into your impossibly close-fitting fuckhole extracts husky groans from his throat, ending up subdued against your mouth. He bites on your lower lip, earning himself a delightful whimper.

Two minutes pass by, something snaps, the brisk effectiveness all thanks to you. He doesn’t know why kissing you feels so dizzying, and… intoxicating. He slowly stops moving his lips and pulls away, cracking both his eyes open, only to be greeted by a cunning look. Then and there, overwhelming peak hits him like a freight train.

He feels less aware, a heavy weight being pressed against his body, colors around him becoming vibrant and he bets his whole life he could feel his own blood stream moving from inside his veins, synchronized with his heartbeats. His peripheral vision seems artificially sluggish yet accelerating.

Your lips quirk upward, discovering the befuddled expression plastered on his handsome face. You notice how his muscles strain in distress, but he can’t move even a single inch, indicating your success.

Levi’s brows furrow in cluelessness, eyes later widening upon realizing what kind of dirty stunt you pulled on him from up your sleeve.

You fix your posture upright before removing your body from his, heaving out a sigh of relief. Standing up, you look at him. Frozen and unable to do a single thing to restrain you. Down and obedient like a mere, small pet. At long last! He’s out of your hair.

“You’re too high to walk straight right now, aren’t you?” you jest, voice laced with the most graceful condescension. Of course, you know perfectly well first times can be extremely stupefying, especially with the dosage you just used for a rookie like him. Instead of it being euphoric, it’s entirely going to be the opposite. Nothing close to good.

“What the fuck did you just do?” poor Levi seethes in anger, but even his tone sounds tenfold more groggy compared to when he first arrived.

“Gave you a heavenly experience?” you giggle and repeatedly pull your wrists away from each other in an effortless attempt to break them apart, the hindrance of a shackle limiting your movements. Bothersome.

What part of weariness and intense jet lag is the heavenly experience? In a trice, Levi blames himself for being careless and taking you for granted. He should’ve done better than forget you’re from the same garbage dump he’s from. You’re one fucking crazy bitch.

Helpless, he watches you walk to the part of the table where you left the cigarette pack, shaking it all out just to get one and clip it between your lips. Some roll off to the ground, but you pay it no heed. His blood is boiling hard and tries to stand. You let him squirm around, confident that he can’t do anything, and struggle on your own to fish your lighter from your dress’ pockets.

You take your precious time lighting your stick, butane triggering the fresh burn of tobacco. You don’t mind that you look ridiculous with both hands on your face, or that your hair is a mess, or that your breasts are popped out. As you suck for smoke and briefly fill your lungs to then blow it upwards, you think, it’s just you and a spiked guy in here anyway.

Letting the nicotine rush take over your senses, you sit on the edge of the table and examine the dark haired soldier. What gives, he’s more impotent than you now. It’s ever so rare to see Levi so open to attack. “Mint goes well with coderoin, you know?” you inform just to piss him off.

“I’ll fucking kill you.” Though you can hear his fury, the threat only sounds so void, the usual venom lacking from his pitch.

He sits back as you pull in smoke into your chest, exhale it out, menthol aroma reaching his nose. You chuckle heartily that among every tip and corner of his body feels like burning from rage.

Time is ticking and slipping away from Levi’s grasp. He stays silent, the pounding of his heart loud enough to ring in his ears. He can’t accept he got deceived. Did you plan this from the very start? When? The moment he told you his intentions? The second he asked about your life here? Or maybe when he kicked the trapdoor open? That can’t be. Five years, and you’re quicker on your feet than you once were.

“That’s cute of you,” you copy what he said when you barked the same phrase. You admit, earlier was a close call, but thanks to your sharp mind and the past you shared, you won him over. Barely.

As always, men are most vulnerable when driven by libido. What fools.

With one last hit of the cigarette, achieving the lightheaded state you’re aiming for, you drop it to the floor, not bothering to extinguish it. Burn this house down, for all you care. You’ll have to move places from now, knowing he might start tailing behind you for vengeance.

Now, you can’t stay longer. The drugs won’t last on him from such a method. It’s not the right way to take it—through kissing.

It was a good time, but unfortunately, you have to part ways with him. The guy wants to arrest you, and that’s the last thing you want to happen. You’d rather settle in and have five kids with an old geezer than spend the rest of your life in a prison. You’re not dense, you know how heavy your crimes are, having circulated in both the Underground and the surface for plenty years. Impressive of you, right? Makes it all the more fun to carry on.

That’s why they should just dream of catching you, because you’ll never let that happen.

You walk toward his immobilized body, movements slinky as you bend over to reach his face and deliciously run your tongue over his lips, tasting the seemingly nectar. As much as he wants to just grab you by the hair and kick your annoying face, he’s only able to lift his arms up a few inches before falling back down again.

It doesn’t escape your field of vision, reminding you to leave immediately. “Sweet, isn’t it?” you ask once you pull away, a sly smile on your lips.

“Why don’t we call it a truce, shall we?” you lastly negotiate. His lips are firmly pressed into a thin line and refuses to say anything. Steel grey eyes look back at you in annoyance. You tilt your head in curiosity. You know he has a lot going in his brain. This might be the last time you see each other, will he choose to keep those in?

Well, he does want you out of his sight right now before he regains his strength and kill you on the spot. He clicks his tongue in impatience.

“Just fucking leave, you lunatic,” he spits. You sure will.

“Gladly. Until next time, Levi,” you drawl and blow him a kiss goodbye, then strutting away in triumph, smile never leaving your face even if you’ve fully turned your back on him.

When you finally disappear, he lets out an exasperated sigh, contemplating his defeat. Nape resting on the chair’s rail, he looks up to the dark ceiling. A droplet of sweat slides from his forehead, which he manages to wipe away in no time, resilience overcoming the delirium.

Actually pondering about it, you’re a real witty one. Of course he was still going to take you with him eventually, he just hasn’t planned it ahead. Seriously though, a sneaky tactic. He massages his nose bridge, shaking his head.

What a crazy brat.

In the end, he decides to just pass on the work to Erwin about getting on the good side of the monarch and politicians, knowing full well he was in for some major explaining—maybe leave out the obscene details.

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captastra · 4 years ago

Text

Movie Night

Pairing: Jill x Carlos

Warnings: horror movies mentioned ( The Evil Dead (1981), The Babadook). I don’t mention that one scene from Evil dead

Words: 2.9K

Jill and Carlos share a movie night together! Read here on AO3.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Jill, popcorn’s ready!”

Carlos’s voice rang out from where he sat in the living room.

“I’m on it,” Jill said, making her way into the kitchen. The smell of popcorn filled the kitchen, the scent of butter bringing a smile to Jill's face. They had started having movie nights two months ago and she was starting to enjoy these nights with him. Her last roommate had been a disaster and she was nervous about what would happen when she started to live here. But Carlos had won her over their first weekend together and the rest was history. Jill smiled to herself as she thought back on that weekend before grabbing some final snacks.

“Gonna let it burn or what? I got a movie to watch and not all night to wait.”

Jill rolled her eyes and picked up the two bowls she had made. “Calm down,” she yelled back at him. “It’s not my fault you got home late. I was all ready to go, but then I got stuck waiting for you.” She had made her way out into the room, setting down the bowls as she talked. “There’s no point in getting everything ready if it's going to sit out for an hour”

She placed her hands on her hips as Carlos rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively at her complaints.

“Not my fault work held me late. Mikhail needed my help and you know how Nikolai always bails at the last minute, leaving Mikhail hanging and me to deal with it. I can’t say no to the old man.” He gave her his puppy dog eyes look, frowning slightly. “You know I wouldn’t miss a movie night with my favorite roommate...”

“I’m your only roommate.”

“Still my favorite,” he winked at her, “unless I had to. So let's just watch the movies. I have a whole week I want to forget and that starts now.” He reached forward and grabbed a handful of popcorn before settling into the couch, propping his legs on the table in front of him. “I think you’re gonna like the movie I’ve decided we should watch. A real scare, this one.”

Jill hadn’t moved as Carlos spoke, but she had to agree with him when he brought up Nikolai. The one time she met him, he didn’t leave a good impression, and wasn’t a person she wanted to see again anytime soon. She knew she couldn’t blame him if that was really the case, no matter how important movie night was becoming for her. More important than she was willing to admit but Jill ignored those thoughts.

“Alright,” she sighed, “alright. But it better not be anything like the last movie you picked. That one was gore, gore, and more gore. What was scary was how the actors didn’t drown in all that blood while filming.” She settled herself down on the couch as she spoke, her back resting against the armrest opposite Carlos, and moved to shove her feet under his leg.

Carlos raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything as he lifted his leg to give her better room to hide her feet. “Comfy?”

She didn’t respond right away, focusing on getting herself comfortable on the couch. Once she had settled in, she reached for the popcorn and took a big handful to start eating. When she finally looked at him, she saw he was giving her a small smile as he rested his head on his hand.

Ignoring the fluttering in her stomach, Jill said, “It gets cold and you’re a heater. What better place to keep my feet warm.” She wiggled her toes under his leg, getting a laugh out of him. “Now what movie did you pick?”

“Ladies first.”

Jill rolled her eyes but smiled. “Tonight, we are going to watch,” she paused for dramatic effect, “Evil Dead.”

“The one from a few years ago?”

“No, the original!”

“C’mon Jill, that movie is campy as all hell,” he shook his head slightly but his smile never faded. “It’s barely watchable from what I’ve heard. Is that really what you want to go with?”

“It’s a cult classic,” she huffed. “Besides, I get to pick a movie and that's what I want to watch. When was the last time you’ve even watched the movie?” Carlos only shrugged. “Ok then. We’re watching it and that's that.” She gave him a firm nod, signaling she was done with that part of the conversation. “Now, what did you pick?”

He sat up excitedly when she asked, his smile growing wider which made Jill chuckle softly. “You’re going to love this one. A really good scary one that I’m sure will even have tough-as-nails Jill Valentine on the edge of her seat.”

“Scarier than the laundry incident?”

“I thought we agreed to never speak of that incident?” He narrowed his eyes at her and pointed at her. “You promised.”

Jill held up her hands in defeat but gave him a wry smile. “Heh, alright. So what ‘oh so scary’ movie did you pick? Or are you gonna leave me hanging in suspense?”

He scoffed slightly, but answered, “The Babadook. I haven’t seen it yet but Tyrell swears it's one of the scariest movies he’s seen in awhile. It comes highly recommended is what I can say.

“I’ve heard it was pretty good too,” Jill nodded as she tried to remember what she had heard about the film. “I hope it's as good as your friend says it is” - she gave him a wicked smile - “since your last movie wasn’t scary at all.”

Before Carlos could respond, Jill's phone vibrated loudly on the table.

“Hey, what did we agree to about phones?”

“Sorry.” Jill picked up her phone to silence it but started laughing when she read the notification. “Oh Chris,” she mumbled but didn’t say anything else as she started to respond.

“What’d he do now?”

Carlos had only met her friends a handful of times since she had moved into the apartment, but no issues had come up yet between them. They didn't seem to mind having him around when they came over to hang out and that was good enough for her.

“Oh just the usual Chris drama.” She saw the quizzical look on Carlos’s face and continued. “Issues with Wesker. Neither can figure out what they want, but it’s not like Chris listens to me whenever I offer advice so I’m just forced to suffer through his complaints.”

“Never really cared for Wesker,” Carlos said. “Guy gives me weird vibes.”

“Ehhh, yeah. I just listen to Chris and try not to get in the way.” She put the phone back on the table. “Now enough about Chris. Lets watch our movies.”

Carlos didn’t object as he started the first movie and they both settled in.

POV Switch

It didn’t take long before Carlos had to speak up about the campiness of the film. Not five minutes into the movie and almost everything that made up the film showed how low budget it was.

“Are you really going to make…”

“Shhh”

He lowered his voice instead. “Do you have to make me suffer through this?” He narrowly dodged a piece of popcorn that Jill had thrown at him. “You can’t tell me this gets any better as the movie goes on?”

“It does.” He glanced over at her and was surprised to see her focused expression as she watched the movie. He couldn’t help but admire how the light from the movie highlighted her features; her nose, jawline, the way a single hair fell across her face that he had to stop himself from pushing back behind her ear. But as he continued to glance at her here and there, an idea came into his head.

They weren’t too far into the movie before things started to get creepy, though Carlos tried to not let it get to him. He glanced back at Jill, saw that she was still engrossed in the movie while eating popcorn, and made his move

He mumbled something about needing to get up, but Jill was too engrossed in the movie and waved a hand at him in response. Getting up, he made his way out into the hallway, before sneakily making his way back into the living room. The couch was too big for him to see Jill but he figured she was still in the exact same position as before.

Walking as quietly as he could, Carlos made his way over to where she sat. The movie was finally picking up, with the music setting the perfect atmosphere for him to make his move.

“Boo!”

Jill let out a small scream as she nearly knocked over the popcorn bowl that she held in her lap. They both reached for the bowl to make sure she didn’t spill everywhere but this also put him in line of sight for Jill to see that it was him who scared her. Once they had settled the popcorn, she gave him the meanest glare he had ever seen.

“Good god Carlos!” The look on her face only made him laugh harder, which seemed to annoy her even more. “Don’t do that. You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

Carlos continued to laugh, “But the look on your face was worth it.”

Jill shoved him playfully and eventually gave him a smile. “Do that again and I will kill you. Or get back at you even worse. Don’t tempt me.”

“Ha, I’m sure you could if you set your mind to it.” Carlos went to settle back on the couch, one leg on the table in front of him and another arm out along the top of the couch.

“Good,” she gave him one more look before turning back to the movie, “And don’t you forget it.”

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

They sat there in silence for the rest of the movie. Jill was as enraptured as ever and even Carlos found himself being drawn into the movie. The campiness didn’t take away from the scariness that was Evil Dead. He was enjoying watching Ash start to slip into insanity at whatever entities were taking over his friends. There was a time or two he had to look away from the movie.

He felt the couch shift next to him and was surprised to see that Jill had made her way from the other side of the couch. He was more surprised when she sat close enough to him that he could have lowered his arm around her shoulder. But he didn’t. No, he would be good. For the rest of the film they sat that way, almost touching but too transfixed in the movie to notice.

Once the movie ended, Jill turned to him. “So what did you think?”

He thought about it for a minute, but decided to have some fun with her when he saw her staring at him intently. After a few seconds of hemming and hawing and a very loud sigh from Jill, he answered her.

“It was decent.”

“Decent?” She raised a single eyebrow at him. “I saw you look away a few times at some scenes. So you can’t tell me it was just ‘decent’

“Alright,” He threw his hands up in a sign of surrender, laughing at how heated Jill was getting about the movie. “It had its moments and I can see why it's a cult classic. But can we watch the other movie now?”

They sat in silence for a moment, neither backing down as Carlos continued to chuckle and Jill stared at him with a raised eyebrow. Carlos started to fear he had gone too far, but Jill seemed to deflate and settled back into the couch right next to him.

“Yes, yes. Put it on.” She gave him a sideways glance. “I’m expecting it to be good.”

“Heh, I certainly hope so. I need a good scare after the last movie.” He smiled at himself at the glare he imagined Jill gave him.

“Me too,” was all she said in response.

It didn’t take long after the movie started for Carlos to see what Tyrell meant about the movie being scary. He even found himself at some points wondering what would happen next after the book was read. But when he felt a shift in the couch next to him and a slight touch on his arm, he nearly jumped out of his seat.

“You ok scaredy cat?”

Lifting his arm up, he saw that Jill was the source of what had scared him. She had curled right next to him, her knees pulled up to her chin and then covered herself with one of their blankets. She continued to give him a sour look, but he could see the corners of lips fighting to curl up into a smile.

“I could ask you the same question.” He gave her a big smile. “Doesn’t look like I’m the only one…”

“Shh!” She brought one hand from out under the blanket and pointed at the screen. “Play the movie. It was just getting good.”

“Yes, mam.” He chuckled as he reached forward to start the movie again. But when he wanted to settle back down next to Jill, his arm hovered over her body next to his. He let himself weigh the risks for only a few seconds - she might get very mad - and decided it wasn’t worth giving it a second thought.

Without any ceremony, Carlos rested his arm around Jill. He tensed slightly when he felt her shift against him, fearing that she would start yelling at him for getting too comfortable with her. But when she didn't pull away and instead settled against him, he let his arm drape around her.

He sat there with his arm around her, eyes glued to the screen but not registering anything that was happening. His brain was too focused on her warmth and the way she fit perfectly next to him. It felt...right.

Jill suddenly jumped against him at something that happened on the screen, breaking his train of thought. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms protectively around her. as he remembered they were watching a movie together. Finally focusing on what happened showed that the movie was starting to pick up with whatever was happening in the story.

Focus man.

And he did. Jill wasn’t pulling away from him and he wasn’t going to let thoughts make him second guess what was happening.

When he finally caught on to what was happening in the movie, Carlos found himself surprised at how good it was. There were a few moments he found himself jumping or having to look away at certain scenes. Before long he became enraptured by the film and didn't realize that even he had curled up on the couch next to Jill. His arms were wrapped tightly around her as the story unfold.

It wasn’t until the movie finally ended that the two of them realized how tightly they were holding onto each other. He didn’t realize how close they were until, turning to look at Jill, he found her looking back at him, their noses almost touching.

“Hey.” Her breath kissed his face as she spoke, her eyes never leaving his.

“Hey back at you.” He kept his eyes trained on hers, not daring to look anywhere else. They stayed like this a moment longer, Carlos’s arms wrapped around her while her fingers curled into his shirt.

“Guess the movie was pretty scary after all.” She started to shift away from him and Carlos immediately let her go, missing the warmth of her body against his. “Here’s to a few sleepless nights after that.” She let out an airy laugh as she got up from the couch.

“You can always stay with me if you need to.” He said it as a joke but inside it was only a half lie. He wouldn’t say no to her if she needed that support from him.

Jill rolled her eyes but from her smile, Carlos knew she took it as a joke. “Don’t expect me to come running to you just because of some nightmare. I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will.”

With that, they set about cleaning up the apartment. Both of them were yawning at that point, too tired to properly clean, though Jill was trying.

Carlos let out a soft chuckle as once again he had to steer Jill towards her room. “Go to sleep. We can clean tomorrow.”

“But we shouldn’t let it sit there,” another yawn escaped her lips as she rubbed her eyes.

“It’s only for a bit and then you can clean to your heart's content.” He felt her try to fight him as he continued to move her towards the hallway. “Seriously Jill, don’t need you falling asleep on the kitchen floor because you tried to clean.”

She started to respond but when another yawn came on, she gave him a shrug. “Alright.” This time he didn’t need to push her. “You get some sleep too though. No staying up late this time. I don’t want to be the only one who’s up cleaning while you sleep in super late.”

“Ha, I’ll be up. Don’t you worry.” He gave her a wink as he started to make his way towards his room.

He was almost at the door when he heard Jill call out to him. Turning to face her, he saw that she was halfway into her room. He took in slightly disheveled hair and clothes from sitting on the couch next to him. He watched her stifle another yawn before speaking up. “Yeah?”

“Goodnight. And thanks for the movie. It was pretty good.”

He nodded, too tired to think of any funny comeback but glad all the same that she enjoyed it.

“Goodnight Jill.”

#resident evil #re3 remake #re3 roommate au #jill valentine #carlos oliveira #jill and carlos #valeveira #pre-relationship #fanfiction

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tatooedlaura-blog · 4 years ago

Text

Maybe WE don’t believe in YOU!

It’s throwback Thursday time ... this is a goodie from 2009 (dragged kicking and screaming from Gossamer) ... oi, these things amuse me at times :)

any and all errors are from the original post and have not been changed to preserve giggles and chuckles :)

@today-in-fic

&&&&&&&&&&

He saw her sitting halfway up the bleachers, amidst yelling parents and clapping children. He knew she'd gone outside a good 15 minutes ago but since she'd neglected to come back, he though he'd better go and collect her. He didn't move fast, more at his usual long-strided amble given there wasn't much to hurry about anymore. Since the police station was next to the elementary school fields, he didn't have far to walk; soon standing beside the rickety aluminum riser seats.

She didn’t notice him at first but when she did a general sweep of her surroundings, as was natural habit at this point, she lit on his face staring up at her and with a barely noticed head-tilt, she gave him a half smile.

Figuring this was an invite of the most discreet kind, he picked his way through the scattered crowd, settling next to her without a word. Silently, they sat together through the last minutes of the game as well as through the exodus of people, kids, strollers and family dogs.

It wasn't until the last person stepped off the field that Mulder turned to her, squinting against the late afternoon sun, "hi."

Pushing her hair back, only to have the light breeze ruffle it again, "hi."

"So, got a little tired of Sheriff Blowhard and his parade of blightless minions?"

"A little. There's only so much blowharding and blightlessness one can take. Besides,” nodding towards the now deserted field, "they looked like they needed another fan."

Knocking shoulders with her gently, "you know, if we get our paperwork done, we can get the hell out of Dodge."

Holding silent for a moment, "promise me our next case won't be like this. I don't think I can do this again anytime soon."

"Well, I'll try to order us up a nice, juicy monster but don't hold your breath."

"Just promise to try. That's all I ask."

One glance into her tired, dull eyes made him nod, "promise."

"All right then." Standing and holding her hand out to him, "let's, as you put it, get the hell out of Dodge."

"If only the place was actually called Dodge."

"Getting the hell out of Parson Village doesn't exactly have the same ring to it, does it?"

Finally down on the ground, they walked back across the parking lot, "not really."

&&&&&&&&&

Working through the last of the forms, they said good-bye and left, glad to be leaving the place behind them. The drive back to the hotel was quiet but a companionable quiet, one where Mulder left the radio off and Scully stared out the open window, enjoying the fresh air and the colors of the setting sun.

Back at the hotel, "do you still want to leave now or wait until the morning?"

He knew she would prefer to go than stay and since he wasn't tired, "now works for me." Checking out went by in a flash and once Mulder had made a not so secretive trip to the vending machines, they were off, "you sure you want to drive first? I'm awake."

Scully just turned the car on, "I'm good for now. I'll let you know when it's your turn."

"Fair enough." Putting his seat back to a decent incline, he settled in, "mind if we keep the windows open for awhile?"

She gave him a smile, "as long as you don't mind me having the wind blown look."

"Naw, you wear it well."

"Okay, now you're just buttering me up."

With a laugh, he rested one arm at his side, the other on the middle compartment, hand dangling by the shifter, "just say thanks, Scully."

"Thanks, Mulder."

He was feeling a bit mischievous but held off until they had been on the road for a few minutes. From his position, he could tell no one else was on the quiet country road and in a fairly nonchalant way, he made like he was turning on the radio but instead, pushed the shifter forward into neutral.

The engine revved, Scully looked around in panic, then saw Mulder's hand beside the stick, "what the hell?" Shoving it back in drive, she swung and hit him near full force in the chest, "are you insane?"

Now for the fun part.

Wincing, he curled his arms to his chest, pretending the blow had actually hurt him, "damn. I was just gonna turn the radio on. I bumped it on accident." Plastering an appropriate grimace on his face, "there's less painful ways to kill me, you know."

Her face scrunching in honest apology, "I'm so sorry. I thought you did it on purpose. I … I'm sorry."

Rubbing his chest for good measure, "remind me to ask before moving next time." The urge to laugh nearly won but he held it in, "I feel extremely sorry for any suspects on the receiving end of your fist."

Automatically reaching over, she wrapped her hand around his forearm, "I'm sorry."

"S'okay." Wondering how long she'd keep her hand there, "was kind of funny though, wasn't it?"

She shrugged, "maybe it will be later but right now, I just feel bad."

"No harm, no foul, right?"

Keeping her hand on him with no sign of letting go, "right."

&&&&&&&&&

They switched places a few hours later, Scully beginning to yawn and stretch to keep herself awake. Mulder, who'd managed a nap, readjusted the seat and mirrors before looking over at her, "all set?" Head already lolling on the seat and eyes closed, she only nodded. As always amused by the swiftness she could fall asleep, he pulled the car out of the gas station and back on the freeway.She slept for about a half-hour, then woke again when he hit a bump in the road, "sorry."

Shaking the cobwebs from her brain, "no, it's okay." After re-positioning the seat back, she stared out the window for a minute before, "where are we, anyway?"

When he turned to look around, she swiftly reached over, flipping a small switch on the dash, "we're about 10 miles from the middle of nowhere."

"That's specific."

He gave her a lopsided grin before looking back through the windshield.

She wondered how long it would take for him to notice.

Not long, she soon discovered.

Taking a cursory glance at the speedometer, he slammed on the brakes, throwing them both forward slightly, "what the hell?" When he had looked, he saw in horror that he was doing 120. Still talking to himself, "there's no way in hell I was doing 120."

Playing along, "what?! You're going 120? I don't need to die tonight, Mulder."

"I didn't realize …"

"Just slow the hell down!!"

He shrank into the seat and heart pounding, he brought his speed back to 75 but when looking out the window, he would swear they were nearly crawling. She then watched him look from the speedometer to the road to the speedometer once again, then to the smile she couldn't contain, "why the hell are all the gauges in metrics now?"

Reaching over, she re-flipped the switch, turning everything back to normal, "did you really think I'd let the neutral thing go unanswered?"

Instead of being annoyed, he looked at her admirably, "nice."

&&&&&&&&&

She was sound asleep again an hour later when Mulder discovered he was contemplating how long he could shut his eyes before it got dangerous. Poking his finger into Scully's thigh, "hey, you awake?"

When she only mumbled, he knew they were both done for the night but with only an hour left to go, he debated pushing it.

Until he heard his tires running on the rumble strip.

Yeah, it was time to stop.

Especially when he saw it … a bright beacon of hope in the distance.

Wal-Mart.

24-hour, anyone can sleep in the damn parking lot, beautiful, shiny Wal-Mart.

He pulled off the exit ramp and soon, he stopped the car in the center of a vast expanse of parking lot. Cracking the windows so they wouldn’t suffocate, he put his seat back, stretched and promptly fell asleep.

A blissful sleep that lasted almost a full two hours, until, “what the hell?”

The sound of her voice jolted him upright and his hand caught the horn, beeping it obnoxiously as he blinked against the painfully bright light in his eyes, “huh?”

By now, she was rolling down the window and being the least polite he’d ever heard her, “what!?”

The flashlight lowered but all Mulder could see was the spot it had burned into his retinas. The spot spoke in a low, male voice, “evenin’ folks.”

Again, Scully rolled off with, “what!?!”

“Just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

He could feel Scully building rapidly towards some other, more improper phrases and heading her off with a hand on her arm, “we were tired and thought we’d take a nap instead of wrapping ourselves around a telephone pole.” As the spot began to fade, he could make out an older gentleman behind the lowered flashlight, “I thought people could park and sleep here for the night?”

“RVs can park but ya’ll aren’t in an RV so I thought maybe you were havin’ some trouble.”

Hearing Scully sigh resignedly through her nose, he spoke again, “no trouble, sir. Just tired.”

“Well, ya’ll be careful.”

As he turned and walked away, Mulder looked at her irate expression, “hi.”

“You’re coming with me.”

“Where?”

Unbuckling her belt, “I have to go to the bathroom and you’re coming with me.”

Opening his door, “why are you pissed at me? I didn’t scare the shit out of you with a flashlight.”

“Just come on.”

She stalked across the parking lot, Mulder trotting to catch up, then settling into an easy gait until they got to the store entrance, “are you gonna make me come in with you or do I get to wait outside the door?”

With eyes narrowed, she left him in the entryway and disappeared into the ladies room. Deciding to go himself, he still beat her back and was leaning on the wall when she came out drying her hands on her jeans. She seemed calmer and leaning next to him, “I’m hungry.”

Gesturing through the doors that led to the actual store, “I bet there’s something in there, if you’re willing to risk it.”

“Lead the way, partner.” Both were shocked by the amount of people in the store, “what time is it anyway?”

Finding her wrist with his hand, he twisted her watch around until he could read it, “um, 1:15.”

“Why are all these people here? Don’t they have homes and beds?”

“Insomniacs make the best shoppers.”

She let a small chuckle escape her nose, “just find me something to eat.”

Well, she should have known not to A) shop when she was hungry and 2) shop with Mulder. She should have also put her foot down when he suggested getting a cart.

An hour later, they were finally through the checkout.

Scully had found some sandwiches, drinks and chips for them both, then stupidly gave Mulder control of the cart. He immediately steered towards the entertainment section and was soon pawing through the $3.99 DVD bin.

That killed a half-hour right there. Damn those bins and their B-movie classics.

After he’d found several handfuls of movies, he veered through men’s clothing for socks, housewares for a new shower curtain (which Scully silently thanked God about), hardware to replace the two flashlights he’d left in their hotel rooms, back to menswear for the underwear he’d forgot on the first trip (black boxer briefs, much to Scully’s amusement), then finally through women’s clothing, where he stopped in front of a rack of slogan t-shirts.

Standing for a moment, he studied them, then picked one up with an alien beside a spaceship who was pointing out and stating, “maybe WE don’t believe in you.” Holding it against her for a second, he tossed it in the cart and finally moved to the check-out.

She followed, dumbfounded by the last hour of her life, “Mulder … why …?”

“Shhhh, it’s too late to argue and too early to win.”

Whatever the hell that meant, she graciously allowed him to pay for their food, along with the industrial size Payday bar she tossed in at the last minute.

&&&&&&&&&&&

As they ate their makeshift dinner sitting in the car, “why did you buy me that t-shirt? Do you really think I’m gonna wear it?”

Grinning with a mouthful of half-chewed turkey, “you will. You’ll be getting dressed for something and you’ll just get the urge to put it on. So you will and you’ll realize you like it and that’ll be that.”

“Is this how you get your shopping done because I can see why your cupboards are bare.”

“Never ask about a man’s shopping habits.”

“Mulder?”

“Yeah?”

“Trade you sandwiches?”

He handed the rest of his sandwich to her immediately, taking her partially eaten roast beef in its place, “no dressing?”

“Nope.”

“So much to teach you, grasshopper.”

&&&&&&&&&

“I’ll drive if you want me to.”

Scully shook her head, “naw, I’m fine.”

“Well, I’m not tired now so I’ll keep you awake.”

With a grin in his direction, “God help me.”

“God’s probably asleep Scully. All you got is me.”

“Again, God help me.”

&&&&&&&&&&

They were finally navigating Washington’s outskirts by 3:30. He watched her staring ahead and fought the demon lurking inside him.

He really shouldn’t.

He really, really shouldn’t.

It would be evil and wrong and cruel and more than likely funny as all hell … if she didn’t kill him afterwards.

…

He’d risk it.

Waiting another minute or so, he spied a light blinking in the distance and as they approached it, he braced his feet against the floor. Once they were about 10 feet away, he yelled, gripping the dashboard and the doorframe, “blinking yellow!!!”

She locked up the brakes, as expected, and bought the car to a screeching halt. The stop flung both forward, then back against their seats, with Scully screaming in his ear, “son of a bitch … it’s yellow Mulder! I don’t have to stop for a blinking yellow!”

Looking at her with as much seriousness as he could muster, “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

“Then why the hell did you yell ‘blinking yellow’ in my ear!?”

“I didn’t know if you saw it.”

He had never witnessed her nostrils flaring before and though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, she looked kind of cute doing it but … “are you trying to get us killed?”

He was now smiling despite the fact she had steam shooting out her ears, “there was no one behind us. I checked.”

Another nostril flare came his way before she turned the car off, still sitting in the middle of the intersection, got out and moving to his side of the car, pulled open the door, “drive.”

Still grinning, he scrambled over the gearshift, Scully sliding smoothly into his seat, putting her head back and closing her eyes.

Silence, he had not expected. Yelling, hitting, yes but not quiet. Quiet from Scully meant planning, concocting, calculating, organizing … quiet meant bad things … quiet meant very deep piles of shit with him underneath.

“Scully …”

“Home.”

Suddenly sober, he restarted the car, “I was just playing.”

“Home,” she repeated, then, instead of returning to sleep, she dug some gum from the glove compartment and proceeded to chew a wad of it, very loudly.

Now, he could take bullets, he could take slime, he could take beratement of the highest degree and, as demonstrated, he could even take bile but he absolutely despised the cud-chewing noises she was making. He withstood it for a long as humanly possible before, “could you please get rid of that? You sound like a damn cow.”

“You want me to get rid of the gum?”

“Yes!”

“Where do you want me to put it?”

His mistake was answering too quickly, “anywhere. I don’t care. Just stop chewing it.”

“Okay then.” Undoing her seatbelt, she twisted so she faced him, and in a gracefully disgusting move, she rolled the gum in her fingers, then proceeded to push it up his nose.

He knew something was coming and completely powerless to stop it, he just sat there as a thumb-size chunk of grape Hubba-Bubba was fitted into his right nostril.

She then calmly sat back down and re-buckled herself in.

He left the gum there as he turned to her, “Scully?”

“Yes, Mulder.”

“I believe we’re even now.”

Her belly laugh echoed off the windows and he began laughing as well, slipping the gum from his nose and putting it in his mouth.

Through her laughter, she grimaced, “eww, that’s disgusting.”

“But it’s grape.”

&&&&&&&&&

They finally made it to Mulder’s apartment and since her brain had drifted completely, she didn’t really notice where they were until he stopped the car, “why are we here?”

“Literally or existentially because I don’t think I can take a metaphysical discussion at the moment?”

“Literal.”

“You drove. You drop me off then drive yourself home.”

“Where’s your car, Mulder?”

Pointing to where he always parked, he saw an empty spot, “your house.” His head dropped to the steering wheel, “damn.” Looking at her out of the corner of his eye, “I’ll take you home.”

“No. I want out of the damn car and I want to go to sleep. Right now.”

“Then grab the bags from the store … I’ll get the suitcases.” They managed to make it in his door before dropping everything simultaneously. Mulder then re-picked up her bag and set it in his bedroom, “I’ll take the couch.”

“No, I will. I shoved gum up your nose.”

“And I yelled ‘blinking yellow’.”

Contemplating for a half second, “you’re right.”

He gave her a grin, “just help me change the sheets first.” Nodding, she had the bed stripped by the time he came back with a clean set. They finished in no time and he stepped back, nodding his head, “two people make that way faster.”

“Anytime Mulder but for now, I’m using your bathroom then going to bed.”

“Aye, aye captain.”

Meeting him in the hall on the way back from the bathroom, “g’night, Mulder.”

“’Morning, Scully.”

Before going to the bedroom, she grabbed one last thing, then changed, crawled under the clean sheets and was out before her head hit the pillow.

&&&&&&&&&&

He woke up leisurely. The phone hadn’t rung, no one had knocked on his door, obnoxious garbage men hadn’t rattled the dumpsters … he had woken up because he had finally caught up on his sleep. Marveling at the idea, he stood and moved silently towards his bedroom to check to see if she was awake yet.

Finding her spread eagle on her stomach, covers twisted around her and bare leg sticking out, foot hanging off the side of the bed, he nearly laughed when he saw her wearing the neon green t-shirt he’d bought the night before.

Deciding to let her sleep, he went to the bathroom, then made himself a bowl of cereal. By the time he’d sat down with his second helping, he heard the creak of his bedroom door. Looking up, he saw her standing there, hair tousled, eyes partially open, wearing only the t-shirt, which fell to mid-thigh. Swallowing the frogs in her throat, “’morning.”

After a glance at the DVD player’s clock, “afternoon.” Without comment, she padded across the cool floor and dropped down next to him, curling her legs underneath her. Covering them with his blanket, she reached over, took the spoon and helped herself to a large spoonful of cereal. Shaking the milk off, she had it nearly to her mouth when he finally spoke, “I thought you said you’d never wear that shirt?”

As the cereal entered her mouth, her lips quivered in the slightest of smiles, “shut up, Mulder.”

#laura's gossamer throwbacks #msr #x-files fanfic #xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #I have done all these things at one time or another to my cousin #while driving #I miss his metric switching car #grape gum up the nose and walmart wanderings

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kissinginkitchens · 4 years ago

Text

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Three: Chasing Waterfalls

a/n: Welcome back!! Another huge thank you for the sweet words and love you have shown to part 2! I'm so glad to hear from those of you who are enjoying the story so far :') Things are starting to get interesting, so I hope you'll stay tuned! As always, my inbox is open, so feel free to come chat with me after you have finished reading! Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing, drug/alcohol mention

Word Count: 5.3k

catch up on parts one and two

Alani watches the stream of salt descend gracefully into the salt-shaker like a mini waterfall, her mind still replaying the events of the past couple of weeks. It has been fourteen days, 336 hours, and 20,160 minutes since the last time she saw Harry, not that she was counting. The image of him getting smaller in her rearview mirror as she drove away from the recording studio is still fresh in her mind. Two weeks and all she has to show for it is three sentences in her notebook, most of which is material she had already known prior to the interview. Alani supposes that this fact should trouble her more than it does, with her future at Rolling Stone depending on much more than the smoothie preferences of Harry Styles; but all she can dwell on at the moment is the serene image of them standing side by side, pinkies nearly touching, making a wish on the most vibrant rainbow she had ever seen. What does concern her, however, are the events that immediately followed their arrival back at Napua.

“Maybe next time we should do this in a neutral location,” Harry had offered, stepping out of the Range Rover. “Less distractions,”

Alani’s brows shot up at the words, not quite believing that she had heard him right. “Next time?”

“You can’t possibly have gotten everything you needed from that,” he scoffed, leaning against the passenger door. Alani had fully prepared to butter him up in order to extend their time beyond the initial one interview agreement, but she hadn’t expected it to be this easy, especially after his dismissal of her attempted humor and begrudging lunch invitation.

“Well, no, but I thought-”

“Okay, so we’ll do this again,” he shrugged, “No biggie,”

Alani felt a wave of relief, and a twinge of excitement, rush over her at the prospect of securing another interview with Harry. Offering him a grateful smile, she nodded and agreed.

“Yeah, okay. Thank you, again, for agreeing to this,”

Harry’s furrowed brow didn’t budge, nor did his set jaw and pouted lips. He simply offered a small bow of his head and a ringed finger through his dark locks.

“Sure. Wouldn’t wanna be the reason you fail,”

“Thanks,” she replied through a forced laugh.

Alani had almost forgotten about the cover she devised to get Harry to agree to the exclusive. A part of her wondered how willing he would have been to participate had he known her true intentions of submitting the final piece to Rolling Stone, but the better part of her judgement knew there was too much at stake to fold her cards now. Besides, Harry had to have known that any work linked to his name would get some sort of public attention, regardless of the original intentions. At least, that was what Alani planned to say if things went south.

“So you can just... text me, I guess,” she proposed cautiously. “When you’re free?”

“Will do,” Harry nodded. “But I think that requires us to exchange phone numbers first,”

“Right,”

Alani pulled her phone from the back pocket of her shorts and opened the contacts app before holding it out to Harry. Carefully, he punched his digits and handed it back, smirking when he was greeted by the image of irresistible watery eyes and floppy ears beneath the time.

“Cute dog,” he remarked while Alani finished typing her own number into his phone.

A soft smile spread across her lips as the image of her furry companion drifted into her mind.

“Oh, thanks. His name’s Freddie,”

“D’you name all your belongings after 70s rock stars?” Harry teased, flashing a dimpled grin.

“As a matter of fact,” Alani played along. “I’m about to go take a sip from Mick Jagger in my car,”

Immediately, Alani regretted her choice of words, though the bright ringing of Harry’s laughter soothed some of the embarrassment.

She winced, nose scrunched. “I guess there’s no taking that one back, huh?”

“Not a chance,”

Clutching her bag closer and sliding her sunglasses back onto the bridge of her nose, Alani took a step back and sighed.

“And with that, I bid you adieu.”

“Au revoir.”

Two weeks and still radio silence from Harry. Alani had begun to wonder whether she had input her phone number correctly in the first place, or if her penchant for embarrassing herself had ruined all chances of Harry making good on his promises.

“I’m sorry, sir, but if you want salted fries you’re gonna have to wait for your turn at the salt mound, just like everyone else,” the voice of Alani’s sister breaks through her thoughts. Somewhere between reliving her last interaction with Harry and anticipating their impending reunion, Alani’s hand had drifted slightly off course of the salt shaker, resulting in a rather impressive mountain of salt forming on the countertop.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” Alani retorts, annoyed at the mess she’ll have to clean up.

“Seemed like you were in the zone, or possibly sleepwalking—and you know what they say about disturbing sleepwalkers,” Pua says simply, unaffected by her sister’s irritation. “Plus, I thought it would be funny, and I was right,”

Alani sweeps the salt into a garbage can below, her mind already drifting back to her afternoon with Harry, when her sister speaks up again.

“He hasn’t called yet?”

This catches Alani’s attention, but she only shakes her head dejectedly in response.

“I thought your date went well,” Pua muses, thinking back to the way her sister had practically floated through the house upon her return.

“It wasn’t a date,” Alani corrects firmly, perhaps trying to convince herself, as well.

Pua scoffs, lifting herself to sit on the countertop. “So you made me cover a four hour shift for nothing?”

“It’s strictly professional and he’s busy,” Alani sighs. “That’s just how these things go,”

“Did he let you listen to his new music?” the younger sister asks, eyes widening.

Alani rolls her eyes and resumes twisting the caps back onto the filled salt shakers. “No,”

“Did you ask him why he left One Direction?”

“No,”

“Is he single?”

“I don’t know,” Alani huffs, turning to face her smug little sister. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“Ask him what?” a familiar accented voice cuts in behind her.

Alani whips around to face Harry, a familiar dent between his brows and dark sunglasses shielding her from the intensity of his stare.

“Ask my dad if I can go to the..movies—tonight,” Pua chimes in. “With my friends. I have those,”

Harry smirks, lifting his sunglasses up to address her. “S’that so?”

“Yup,” she confirms, popping the “p” and crossing her arms. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Curiosity runs in the family, I see,” he remarks with amusement. “Shoot,”

“Is your phone working?”

“Why don’t you go call dad and ask him about the movies? I’ll cover the register,” Alani interrupts, shooting a glare over her shoulder as her sister saunters into the kitchen with a satisfied grin on her round face.

“Ignore her, she’s fifteen,”

“The most honest age in my experience,” Harry observes with a twinge of guilt settling in the pit of his stomach.

Alani pushes any thoughts about Harry, beyond the fact that he’s standing in front of her, to the side and puts on her best customer service voice. “What can I get started for you today?”

“A green smoothie, please,” he says, searching for her eyes that are occupied with the register buttons. “And the rest of your afternoon, if you’re free,”

Alani pauses and allows her gaze to meet his. She senses a hint of apology behind his emerald eyes, a welcome change to the storminess that often clouds them.

“I don’t know,” she starts slowly, despite the fact that every bone in her body is screaming at her to go. “I gotta finish up here,”

“What time are you off?”

Alani mulls his question over, silently deciding whether to tell the truth or not. Ultimately, retribution for her bruised ego is the only reason she can come up with for lying. She knows that it isn’t logical to be upset with him due to the fact that their relationship is strictly professional. Harry owes her nothing; in fact, him agreeing to meet with her the first time was, as she pointed out on several occasions, entirely a favor on his end. Despite this fact, Alani couldn’t help the disappointment she had felt the very next day when he hadn’t even texted his name to make sure that he had the right number. And she can’t help how she feels now, two weeks later, looking into his big, dumb eyes that are begging for her forgiveness. She missed him. Against her better judgment, and for reasons she can’t explain, Alani misses Harry, so she chooses honesty.

“Four,”

“Great,” he perks up, victoriously. “Then I’ll have the green smoothie, and keep ‘em coming,”

“You’re gonna stay here that long?” Alani asks, eyes darting to the 1:11 displayed on her watch.

Harry holds up a teal paperback with cassette tapes stacked on the cover. “Got some reading material to keep me company,”

“Love is a Mix Tape,” she reads the yellow cursive looped at the bottom of the cover aloud with a nod.

“Ever read it?” he questions, flipping through the pages.

“Can’t say that I have,”

“Well then you can borrow it sometime.” Harry says finally, turning on his heel in the direction of a table near the window.

Alani half expects him to leave and come back closer to their allotted time, but he simply sits near the window with the book in front of him and the straw of his drink resting against his pouted bottom lip. Customers come and go, tables are cleared, and the sunlight spills into different corners of the room, but Harry remains perfectly unchanged as if he were a fixture of the room itself. His presence is both comforting and unnerving to Alani, who glides around the room taking orders and serving food. Meanwhile, Harry does his very best to focus on the words in front of him, but the letters jumble together like alphabet soup amidst his wandering thoughts. Out of the corner of his eye, he follows Alani as she gracefully moves from one table to the next, flashing a warm smile at each guest who enters. He notices the tapping of her pen to whatever Beach Boys song plays over the stereo and the way she bites the inside of her cheek when making change at the register. The more details he stores in his mind, the deeper the sinking feeling burrows into his stomach. It had taken every ounce of willpower and over twenty unsent text messages to stay away, but Harry needed to put space between them for both of their sakes. He didn’t dare flatter himself with the thought of her having feelings for him, but he didn’t mind her company and that hadn’t done him much good these days. Harry knew that eventually he would have to bite the bullet and keep his word, and he decided that a temporary writer’s block was as good a time as any to do so.

“What ever happened to that girl?” Jeff had asked the evening prior, responding to an email from the recording label.

Harry feigned ignorance and continued to doodle something in his notebook, though he knew exactly who his manager was referring to. “What girl?”

“Dark hair, pretty, made you blush like a 12 year old,”

“I did not,'' Harry defended, scribbling a little more harshly. “‘S nothing. Was just helpin’ her out,”

Jeff snorted with an accusational brow raised.

“How romantic,”

“Jesus, not like that!”

“All I’m saying,” Jeff conceded. “Is that you seem a little uptight these days, and the music shows,”

Harry pondered this for a minute, his pen stilling to look over the lyrics, or lack thereof, on the page.

“You should be having a little fun, that’s literally what we came here for,” Jeff continued. “Get out of this fuckin’ studio and be a normal 22 year-old. You deserve it.”

So Harry had decided to go out, telling himself that he was merely listening to a friend’s advice for the sake of his music and sanity. But a part of him also desperately wanted to see Alani, even if he didn’t really know why.

As the clock strikes four, Alani sucks in a deep breath and turns to her sister slicing bananas in the kitchen.

“I’m going out,”

“Figured,” Pua responds, unphased. “I’ll cover for you,”

“I owe you.”

“Get me tickets to his next concert and we’ll call it even.”

Alani rolls her eyes, amused, and presses a chaste kiss to her sister’s temple before grabbing her bag off the hook and heading out. When she emerges in the dining area, Harry is already waiting at the counter with his broad shoulders turned away from her. She taps him gently and feels dizzy when he turns to her with a faint dimpled smile.

“Ready to roll?” he asks.

“Ready.”

When the two are comfortably situated in the Range Rover, Harry scans the parking lot and pulls away onto Mamalahoa Highway.

“Where’s Stevie?” he questions, his lower lip pinched between his index finger and thumb in concentration.

“Oh I walk to the restaurant,” Alani explains. “Don’t live too far,”

“Explains why you ditched your sister,”

“I did not ditch her!” Alani defends with a light laugh.

“Kinda did,”

She shakes her head in mock offense as the corners of Harry’s lips turn up. “My dad will pick her up after work, she’ll be fine,”

“Not to accuse you of nepotism,” he hesitates. “But I thought maybe your dad worked at the café. Family business?”

“He owns it, yeah, but he also works as the head chef at Honu. It’s a resort,” Alani continues. “But I’ll have you know that my waitressing skills are highly qualified, regardless of the nepotism,”

“And your mum?”

“She’s a doctor—pediatric surgeon,”

“That’s amazing,” Harry comments, glancing down at the GPS.

“Yeah, she is,” Alani agrees, her own eyes darting to the screen before attempting to analyze her surroundings. “Hey, where are we going?”

The rings on Harry’s right hand tap gently on the steering wheel as he responds carefully, withholding any hints.

“To the best interview spot I could think of. Go there sometimes to work on the album,”

“So there is an album,” Alani wiggles her brows.

“Off the record,” he clarifies. “But.. potentially,”

She scoffs at his insistence to maintain secrecy.

“Really?”

“We’re almost there.” Harry consoles, referring primarily to their destination, but perhaps speaking personally, as well. Alani doesn’t miss the double meaning and chooses to nod silently in acceptance.

The next few minutes of their drive are filled by humming along to whatever song drifts through the stereo, most notably Paul McCartney and George Harrison, which inspires a lively back and forth about the ranking of ex-Beatles members.

“It goes Paul, George, Ringo, and John,” Alani states matter-of-factly. “There’s no other answer,”

Harry shoots her an incredulous look before responding. “Are you seriously putting Ringo Starr before John Lennon?”

“John Lennon was an abusive asshole,” Alani defends. “Plus he wrote, like, one good song-”

“More than one song—”

“I said a good song. ‘Good’ being the keyword,”

Harry can’t hold back his endearment at her reasoning, so he shakes his head with a wide grin plastered on his face and decides to take one last swing at the hornet’s nest.“He’s still a legend,”

“Isn’t it weird,” Alani muses with a far-away look in her eyes. “That someday, someone’s gonna have this conversation about you?”

Harry doesn’t respond right away, weighing her words and how they settle in his bones. It doesn’t offend him in the slightest, he’s heard far worse, but there is still something strange about comparing himself to musicians he considers to be his icons. Despite all the hard work and sacrifices he’s made over the past five years, he still sees himself as the lucky little kid from Holmes Chapel underneath it all.

“I’m sorry,” Alani speaks up when Harry doesn’t respond. “I didn’t mean—”

“Oh, no it’s okay,” He reassures her. “I was just thinking... ‘bout what you said. I guess I don’t really think about it like that,”

“Oh,” is all she says, still waiting for him to elaborate. After a beat, Harry begins again in his characteristically slow way of speaking that Alani finds charming.

“It’s just that,” he begins, tugging on his lower lip. “Obviously I can’t ignore, you know, the impact that all of it had. But to me it was just… I don’t know. In my head it’s not really on the same level,”

Alani nods, though she can’t say it’s with complete understanding. In this moment, she truly feels the weight of their completely different worlds and how she may never be able to fully sympathize with that part of Harry’s life. She certainly hadn’t been under any impression that she would, but she still feels a bit embarrassed for the closeness she had begun to feel to him in their moments spent together. A sinking feeling settles into Alani’s stomach at the thought that maybe she was making a mistake, despite the constant self-reminders that everything they were doing was completely professional. Don’t get too close, she writes on a mental post-it note, sticking it to the forefront of her mind.

“We’re here,” Harry pipes up.

Too wrapped up in her own thoughts, Alani hadn’t noticed when they pulled into the parking lot at ‘Akaka Falls and it took her a moment to adjust.

“This is the place?” she questions hesitantly.

“Yeah,”

“This is where you come to write?”

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to stay chained to the studio,” Harry teases with his hands raised in mock surrender.

“No,” Alani breathes out a light laugh, rolling her eyes. “I just mean… I don’t know what I expected.”

“That was the point.” he explains with a devious smile that makes her let out a proper laugh.

************

“Did you know,” Alani starts, the tips of her fingers reaching out to stroke the petal of an especially vibrant red flower. “That Georgia O'Keeffe had a show in New York City during the 40s with twenty paintings of different flowers that she observed right in this very park?”

“I didn’t,” Harry admits. “Who needs a tour guide when we’ve got you?”

“I have a copy of the waterfall one she did in my room,” Alani continues. “But I’d love to see the real thing some day,”

Harry scans the landscape, eyes settling over the winding stairs that lead them further to the falls and the rest area where he frequently hides away. “Is it still on display?”

“Last I checked, yes,” she nods. “At the New York Botanical Garden,”

“How are you not even a bit winded?” he chuckles, hands on his hips as he pauses and takes a moment to breathe.

Alani stops in her tracks and turns back to face Harry with a teasing glint already present in her deep brown eyes.

“I thought you came here all the time to write,” she says with a raised brow.

“And I thought it was against the journalist code to berate your subjects,” he shoots back. “But here we are,”

“Touché,” Alani concedes. “But I’m not a journalist yet so I guess the rules don’t apply to me,”

Harry thanks his lucky stars that she turns on her heel back down the steps before she can witness the fond grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He savors the image of the greenery that complements her olive skin and how the gentle breeze dances through her curls before following behind.

Alani takes a deep breath once they reach the lookout and soaks in the familiar view. No matter how many times she visits the national park, the first sight of the 442 feet of cascading water always leaves her eyes a little misty.

“What brings you here?” she asks, turning to Harry whose sunglasses are perched at the crown of his head to leave the view unobstructed.

His jaw clenches and his Adam’s apple bobs, but he doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he turns his head to Alani and searches her face with a crease between his brows.

“That,” he responds, pointing to the glossy sheen over her eyes. “That feeling. Felt it the first time I came here, still do,”

He turns back to face the roaring water before them and Alani takes this moment to study the sharp angles of his profile. She takes note of the sunlight peering through his sea glass irises and waits patiently for him to continue.

“Makes you feel lucky to be alive,” Harry says finally. “And a little small, but in a good way. Like everything bad that ever happened to you doesn’t matter because none of it’s real, is it? But this… this is real,”

Alani feels like the air has been sucked from her chest and her eyes burn a hole straight through Harry’s temple. He doesn’t budge, despite the overwhelming urge to face her again, because he knows that if he does, he’ll lose his nerve.

“Damn,” is all Alani croaks out when she finally catches her breath.

Harry’s stony expression falters as he cracks a small, relenting smile. “D’reckon that’s what TLC were on about when they wrote that song?”

“I think you’re on the right track, yeah,” Alani agrees with a light laugh. “Though I think they were talking a little bit more about drugs, but I like your thing too,”

“Thanks,” Harry smirks. “Now you see why I come here to write,”

“Yeah, I’ll give you that one,” she concedes.

“Speaking of writing,” he starts, walking away from the lookout and over to a rest area with a few tables and benches. “I think we were here to help you write,”

Alani follows and takes a seat on the bench across from him, the setting sun beating against her back and outlining her in golden light that Harry feels couldn’t be more poetic.

She retrieves a notebook, her phone, and a pen from her bag and sprawls them out across the table top. Harry notices that each item is colored a varying shade of pink, but he decides to keep that detail filed at the back of his mind instead of investigating further.

“Same deal as last time, voice notes for quotational accuracy,” Alani reminds him. She looks over her list of questions to pick a starting point, but suddenly none of them seem relevant, so she takes a moment to collect her thoughts and says the first thing that comes to mind.

“Earlier when I said this wasn’t what I was expecting,” she begins. “You said ‘that was the point’. Why?”

Harry turns this question over in his mind, caught off guard by the seemingly trivial detail. “I dunno. I guess.. Maybe I just like the surprise,”

“To be surprised, or to surprise others?”

“Both,”

“Why do you like to surprise others?”

He ponders this for a second and takes a deep breath. “I think it’s because it doesn’t happen that often,”

“What do you mean?” Alani prys.

“Well,” Harry begins carefully, sifting through his brain for the right words. “Ever since the whole band thing blew up, I’ve had this strange feeling that everyone knows everything about me, like there’s nothing left to discover,”

Alani watches as he twirls the ring around his wedding finger, a silver rose that has always caught her eye.

“Maybe that sounds self absorbed,” he simpers.

“It’s not,” Alani reassures him.

Harry meets her eyes appreciatively before resuming. “I still remember the first time someone recognized me,”

“What was that like?”

“Bizarre,” he chuckles to himself. “She was very nice, but the entire time I couldn’t stop thinking about how strange it all was. It’s like, you know when someone you met once or twice comes up to you and you don’t remember their name at all? S’bit awkward ‘cos you feel like you should know something about them, too— level the playing field. ‘Cept no matter how hard you wrack your brain, the information’s never gonna come, even though they know everything about you,”

“But they don’t,” Alani cuts in. “Not really,”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees, his eyes narrowed. “But sometimes they feel like they do, which might be worse,”

Alani taps her pen against her bottom lip and nods, a gentle hum leaving her throat as she registers his words.

“Didn’t think about it like that,”

“S’not so much about the fans,” Harry continues. “Because I feel like there’s lots of things I wanna share with them through the music. It’s… everyone else, I guess,”

“I don’t think it’s abnormal to want your privacy,” Alani comments. “To want to share things on your own terms. It’s human,”

“But isn’t that what it means to be loved?” he asks, chin resting in his palm. “To be known?”

Alani picks up on a glimmer of challenge behind Harry’s eyes, as if he is the one conducting the interview and trying to extract information from her.

“There’s a difference between knowing something about someone,” she argues. “And knowing someone,”

“It’s like Prince,” Harry says suddenly, an excited fire behind his emerald eyes. “Who knows anything about Prince besides the fact that he’s a fuckin’ great musician? I sure as hell don’t, but all you wanna do is know more, and that’s what makes him so magical. It’s mysterious… I like that,”

Alani snorts and looks up from her notes scrawled on the page. “Did you just describe Prince like your manic-pixie dream girl?”

“No,” Harry defends with an amused laugh. “Well, not intentionally anyway,”

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes with a wave of her hand. “No, I know what you mean. It’s like keeping the rock-star persona separate from your real life, makes it all more alluring,”

Harry nods, running a hand through his hair and shaking it out before securing his sunglasses back at the top of his head. “Yeah,”

“But earlier you also said you wanted to share some things with the fans,” Alani begins again, going back to her chicken scratch notes. “What kinds of things were you referring to?”

“Real life stuff,” he offers. “Mostly the not-so-great things. ‘Cos I mean no one wants to hear me sing about going to bars and how great everything is. The champagne popping,”

Harry trails off as his fingers smooth over the cross pendant hanging around his neck.

“I mean, I don’t wanna hear my favorite musicians talk about that, at least. I wanna know ‘how did you feel when you were alone in that hotel room, because you chose to be alone?’”

The wind begins to pick up more noticeably and the pages of Alani’s notebook flutter wildly, threatening to escape. Too wrapped up in their conversation, the pair hadn’t noticed the dwindling tourists or the cumulonimbus clouds hovering above. Harry squints up at the darkening sky and it peers back at him with equal contempt . He springs to his feet, quickly gathering some of Alani’s things for her.

“We gotta go,”

They quickly scurry and the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance quickens their pace up the steps. The adrenaline coursing through Alani’s veins masks the burning in her quads and calves, but Harry’s steady panting gives away his exertion. They’re almost halfway up the long trail of steps when another thunderclap pierces through the sky above them and sends a jolt through their bodies. One speckle of rain hits the pavement in front of Alani’s quick feet, and then another, and another, until the sky opens up and they are caught in the downpour. Alani shrieks and the sound makes Harry belly laugh, a hand instinctively reaching out to the middle of her back to brace her.

“Careful,” He calls out above the deafening rain. “Watch your step!”

Somehow over the sound of the rain and her own heavy breathing, Alani still manages to come up with a witty remark.

“Imagine the headlines!” she shouts over her shoulder. “‘Popstar Lures Innocent Civilian to Her Untimely Demise’,”

Alani doesn’t say anything about his palm still pressed securely against the small of her back, but the warmth of it spreads through her fingers and toes. They continue up the steps, each breathing a sigh of relief when the top is in sight. Harry reaches out for her hand when they make it to the landing, and she accepts it gladly, before they bolt to the parking lot where the lone Range Rover is parked. Once inside, a fit of laughter erupts from the both of them.

“What a cliché,” Harry comments. “Getting caught in the rain,”

Alani sighs. “Too bad we don’t have piña coladas,”

“We could maybe do something about that,” he shrugs.

Alani reaches for her phone and queues up the next song, which brings a cheshire grin to Harry’s face when he hears the familiar drums.

“Wasn’t what I meant, but okay,” he rolls his eyes, turning up the car’s heater before heading back out onto the highway.

“This song’s kinda fucked up when you think about it,” Alani muses, swaying in her seat. “But the chorus is fun,”

“S’all that matters when you’re sloshed,”

“Sorry about your seats, they’re gonna be soaked,” Alani apologizes as her wet socks squelch around in her shoes.

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves the concern away. “Occupational hazard.”

The drive to Alani’s house from ‘Akaka Falls is only 25 minutes and the two of them spend most of the time lost in their own thoughts, letting the car heater soothe their chilly bones. Alani watches the rain droplets race down the window pane and turns over some of Harry’s words in her mind. His comment about the waterfalls sticks out like a shell emerging from the sand. She begins to think that it perfectly captures this time in his life as he searches for something real amidst the chaos of fame. It’s an angle she’s keen to run with once she has the time to sort through her notes and write, but her thoughts also drift towards the waterfalls in her own life that she’s been chasing. Naturally, she thinks about Rolling Stone and what she hopes New York City will bring her. Adventure, she thinks at first, digging deeper when that doesn’t quite suffice. Success, getting warmer. Purpose, bingo. Alani sinks into her seat with a contented sigh.

“Piña coladas,” Harry hums once they’ve pulled up to Alani’s driveway. “Next time, we’re definitely getting piña coladas,”

Alani isn’t as surprised by his suggestion of meeting up for a third time, though it still sends her heartbeat through the roof. She tries not to think too hard about the implications.

“On you,” she teases.

“Of course,”

“Thanks again,” Alani says, turning to face him. “We covered a lot of material today,”

Harry flashes a shy smile in response. “Sorry ‘bout...your clothes. I should’ve checked the weather,”

“Occupational hazard,” she shrugs, mirroring his words from earlier. “So I guess I’ll just see you around then?”

“Yeah,” he swallows, suddenly aware of her proximity. “I mean are we still doing this—the interviews?”

Alani stops smoothing out her damp waves, feeling as if she had overstepped. “If that’s okay. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“No, it’s okay,” Harry reassures her. “I’m available—I mean for your writing I’m—”

He stumbles over his words and Alani eases the slightest bit knowing that he’s nervous, too.

“Just let me know, whenever.” he says finally, regaining his composure.

“Will do.” she nods slowly.

Alani’s eyes dart to Harry’s lips briefly, lingering just long enough that Harry notices, but too quick for him to justify closing the gap. Before he knows it, he’s missed his chance and she’s slipping out of the car, closing the door with a sense of finality that makes his stomach drop.

Alani makes her way up to the house, gravel crunching under her feet and head pounding.

Don’t get too close, she reminds herself. Don’t go chasing waterfalls.

Next Chapter

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