#it is far too early in the morning for me to be coping with this news

[thevegandarkelf]

QOTU: The Debrief

Summary: Immediately following her first encounter with Scud, a giddy and giggly Vec shows up back at her and her bestie's shared apartment. Despite their impending early mornings, our gals embark on an evening that's become a regular occurrence throughout their friendship--the debrief.

My second installment in the 'Quarters of the Undead' AU with @dixons-sunshine is here! This will give y'all a real insight into Vec and Georgie's friendship, and I think it encompasses their dynamic perfectly. I hope you love them as much as we do <3

Word count: 3.7k

CW for swearing, small allusions to sexual themes but no smut, alcohol consumption, MDNI

AO3 link

Puling into the parking lot of their shared apartment, Vec found her favorite spot, claiming it for herself. After putting her car in park, she rubbed her cheeks, the muscles stiff and aching. The massive, stupid grin on her face never faded, not even for a moment, during the duration of her commute home. Nor did it fade as she made her way inside, returning to the familiar warmth and comforting feeling of the apartment complex she and Georgie called home.

After stepping off the elevator, Vec was nearly skipping down the hallway, an extra pep in her step as she bounded through their front door. The scent of curry powder and turmeric greeted her the moment she stepped in. Georgie was still awake, cleaning up the kitchen, wiping down a glass dish she’d just finished hand-washing. Normally, she would’ve been asleep hours ago, but given the situation with Vec picking up her car from a stranger, she stayed awake in case of an emergency. Plus, she was far too eager to hear about her best friend’s evening to think about sleep. Vec had hardly taken her shoes off before the questions began.

“So…what’s this ‘something good’ that happened?” she inquired, setting the dish she’d been drying off on the counter.

“Well hello to you too,” Vec greeted. She set her hospital shoes to the side of the door, taking her lanyard and hanging it on the small hook on the wall, along with her badge. “How was your day?”

Georgie folded her arms across her chest, raising her eyebrows and giving her best friend “the look.” The look that meant there was no more bullshitting around and it was time to get down to business. “Dia…”

Vec mimicked her, crossing her arms over her chest and giving her the same look, eliciting a laugh from the teacher. “Ginny…”

“That can wait. You need to tell me what happened.”

The face of the woman Georgie called Dia contorted into a mischievous smirk, despite her putting forth the utmost effort to maintain her poker face. Though she was good at preventing her emotions from bubbling over, she certainly wore them all over her face. “The mechanic that stayed behind so I could get my car…”

That statement alone made Georgie’s ears perk up. “Uh huh…?”

“He was real cute.” Vec bit her bottom lip, the mischievous smirk warping into a giddy smile as blood rushed to her cheeks, that familiar baby pink that said mechanic had gotten to see earlier in the night making an appearance for Georgie.

“Knowing you, I take it you dished out some flirting?” The doctor nodded, and her next sentence was the best response Georgie could’ve hoped for.

“And he dished it right back.”

The smile that broke out on Georgie’s face was blinding, bright enough to light the whole city block. Grabbing her phone off the kitchen counter, she gestured to a nearby cabinet. “Break open the wine. We’re doing the debrief.”

Over the course of their friendship, they’d had many sessions they canonically referred to as “the debrief.” It all started in high school after Vec had a first date that turned sour. To cope, she sulked over to Georgie’s and sobbed for hours, as in her 15-year-old mind, her life was over. Now, after every date, hook up, each time one of them met a guy, etc., they’d break open a fresh bottle of wine and order a pizza, talking late into the night, early morning alarm clocks be damned.

“You sure you wanna do it now?” Vec asked, clenching her jaw to stifle a yawn. Despite her question, she stepped into the kitchen, taking a bottle of merlot from the cabinet Georige had blindly gestured toward and resting it on the counter. “It’s already getting late. I have to be up at 5, you have to be up early too. We can do it tomorrow.”

Georgie had already began dialing the nearest pizza shop, having taken a random flyer of coupons off the counter and making a mental note of which ones she could use. She wasn’t taking no for an answer. “You know it’s been over a year since I’ve gotten laid. This isn’t a want, it’s a need. Now do you want your usual pizza toppings?”

Vec stared at her in adoration. She’d always considered herself lucky to be able to call someone like Georgie her best friend. It was in these moments, though, that she was extra grateful. “God, I love you.”

“Love you too. Now I’m sure you wanna get out of your scrubs,” Georgie figured, giving her a soft smile and holding her phone to her ear as it began ringing, “I’ll pour the wine.”

“Only one. You know how much of lightweight I am,” Vec reminded. Georgie snickered and nodded. As if there was any way she could forget how much of a lightweight Vec was. In all their years of friendship, she’d only seen Vec get drunk a couple of times. Both of those instances started with one strong mixed drink that had her head spinning so fast, she couldn’t stand on her own two feet without assistance.

When it arrived, Georgie placed both the box of pizza and their two glasses of wine on their coffee table, grabbing a towel and tossing it next to the box to use as a napkin. Normally, there would’ve been plates as well, but not for the debriefs. The debriefs didn’t require plates. They only required a cheap, greasy pizza in a flimsy cardboard box, sub-par quality wine, and somewhere comfortable to relax.

Vec plopped down on the couch next to her, now wearing a matching black set, the soft cotton encapsulating her in its warmth, a warmth her scrubs could never mimic. Rolling up her sleeves, she nearly scarfed down a slice of pizza in two bites, having forgotten until moments before that she hadn’t eaten since that morning. The life of an ER doctor, she would often blame it on. Georgie couldn’t help but chuckle a little at her at she grabbed a slice of her own.

“Alright, babe,” Georgie demanded, resting back against the decorative pillow in the corner of the couch to get comfortable, “debrief me.”

Vec covered her mouth as she finished chewing her food. “Ok, so I’m driving to work this morning, and I’m coming up to the stoplight near the hospital. You know, that one big intersection you go through on the way?” Georgie nodded, taking a sip of her wine as she did. Anyone who drove down the main road to the hospital was well acquainted with the large intersection Vec was referring to.

“So my car just stops. Starts making that clicking noise like when the battery’s dead and you try turning it on.” She gulped back some of her wine before continuing her story, the flavor combination of fermented grapes and pizza sauce creating an unpleasant bitter taste on her tongue. However, she was too wrapped up in her excitement to care. “A random person helps me jumpstart my car so I can at least get down the road to this rinky dink auto shop.”

“Aww, that’s sweet,” Georgie gushed. Though it wasn’t the focus of the story, she was eternally grateful for the stranger that helped her bestie in such a tight and strenuous situation. Being a good samaritan herself, as Vec had put it, she had a soft spot for fellow ones.

“I know! I hardly had the chance to thank them. I was too busy have a stress-cry in the car when I got there.” She scooped another slice from the box with a sense of urgency, as if the mention of her stress-cry reminded her of how little food she’d had. She took a bite before setting it back on the edge of the box, using it as a pseudo-plate. “So I’m at the counter, the guy’s getting my info, all that jazz. Y’know, the usual. And that’s when I see him off in the corner.” She blindly pointed to a random corner of their apartment, not taking her eyes off Georgie for even a second. “And Gin, when I tell you I almost started drooling.”

Georgie wiggled in her spot on the couch, pretending to adjust her position. “I’m on the edge of my seat.”

“I asked the manager who the cutie with the bandana is,” Vec explained. She swirled her wine glass in her hand, carefully as to not let the red liquid slosh over the top, lest they have to deal with a wine stain on the couch, or worse, the carpet.

“Wow,” Georgie scoffed, slightly wide-eyed with a cheeky grin on her face.

“Don’t act like you haven’t heard me say much more forward things before,” Vec laughed.

“Touche,” Georgie replied with a nod, the tone of her voice very matter-of-fact.

“So I ask him, and he tells me the guy’s name is Josh and he’s a bit of a wildcard.”

“Sounds like he’s already perfect for you.”

“That’s what I thought!”

“So this ‘cutie with the bandana,’” Georgie inquired, “what’s he look like?”

“Like a sleazy, futuristic emo,” Vec gushed, drawing her words out and rolling her eyes as a giggle threatened to slip into her voice.

“So very much your type?” Georgie teased. Vec had often described her type has “musicians covered in tattoos who could finger a guitar…and that’s about it.” Really, anyone alternative, even slightly out of the norm of polos and sports jerseys and khakis, was her type.

“He’s a little taller than me, shaggy brown hair, hence why he had the bandana to keep it out of his eyes. High cheekbones, the cutest little button nose I have ever seen, and these absolutely stunning blue eyes that I just...” her voice trailed off, as did her gaze, staring blankly at some random object in the kitchen over Georgie’s shoulder.

Georgie couldn’t help but giggle at her best friend. Vec hardly knew the guy, and it seemed she was already enamored. She snapped her fingers in front of Vec’s face, hoping to bring her out of the clouds and back down to reality. “Earth to Dia? You in there, babe?”

Vec shook her head and blinked rapidly before meeting Georgie’s gaze, realizing what she’d just been doing. “Christ, sorry,” she apologized, running a hand through her long black tresses. She could’ve blamed it on her long and strenuous day, sure. But they both knew that would be an outright lie, and Vec was no liar.

“So you asked about him?” Georgie questioned in an attempt to redirect their conversation back to the matter at hand.

Vec nodded. “Yeah, and then I had to leave since I was already running late. I almost just went up to him and gave him my number, but he was at work and something just felt icky about cornering him like that, y’know?”

“Good call.” Georgie held up what remained of her slice of pizza in affirmation before taking the last bite.

“So I finish work late, as you know, and the manager must’ve been there late because he calls me, like, a little after 8:30, tells me one of his guys offered to stay so I could get my car.”

Georgie held a finger up as she took another sip of wine, allowing for enough of a pause for her to take a guess. There was no wondering on her part, though. There would be no story if the answer wasn’t what she was predicting. “The cutie with the bandana.”

“Look at you guessing the plot twist,” Vec complimented, briefly tilting her glass in Georgie’s direction, “so I walk to the auto shop, and sure enough, there he is. And guess what he says when he opens the door?”

“The anticipation is killing me.” Georgie shifts in her spot once more as she takes another slice of pizza from the grease-laced box.

“‘Cutie with the bandana at your service,’” Vec quoted.

Georgie covered her mouth, eyes fully widened in shock. Had she not just taken a bite of food, her jaw would’ve been on the floor. “No! They told him?”

“They told him!” Vec yelled, catching herself and lowering her volume before she continued, “so of course I’m flustered as hell, apologizing so fast I almost can’t even get a proper sentence out. But he just starts dishing the flirting right back. He asks me about my nickname, I asked him about his. He said his friends call him Scud.”

“Like ‘stud’?” Georgie questioned, cocking an eyebrow as she sipped at her wine again.

“That’s literally what I said!” Vec exclaimed as she shifted her legs and leaned back against the couch.

“So why’d he change it?”

“Dunno. Never got to ask.”

“Maybe he realized he wasn’t one and didn’t want to get any hopes up for the ladies,” Georgie teased. It elicited an eye roll from her best friend, and she was met with a quick rebuttal.

“Well this lady’s got more than just her hopes up." She gave herself an up-down with her pointer finger, as if there could have been anyone else beside her that was the lady in question. “He’s certainly a stud to me.”

The teacher sighed before leaning forward and placing a reassuring hand on her best friend’s knee. “Babe, I love you…so much…but this would not be the first time you’ve made a false assumption like that.”

“Speaking of false assumptions, he assumed I was a nurse because of my scrubs,” Vec continued, ignoring Georgie’s cheeky critique. She knew it was all in good fun though. Georgie could certainly poke fun when she wanted to, but she was never mean on purpose.

Georgie made a ’tchps’ sound, sucking air in through her teeth in discontent. “Oof, not again,” she sighed, “didn’t the last one do that?”

“The last several have done that,” Vec corrected. There was annoyance in her voice for only a brief moment before falling back into the high-pitched, silly tone of a 13-year-old girl who’d just developed her first serious crush. “Poor thing looked terrified when I explained I was actually a doctor, like he thought he just fucked up big time.”

Vec sipped at her merlot as an arrogant, uncharacteristic of her, grin spread from ear-to-ear. “He was quickly reassured after I, uh…gave him a note. May have put my number on it. Guess what he said when I asked if he was off the market.”

“That he’s…on the market?” Georgie guessed. That had to be the answer. Why else would Vec be bringing it up? But given the implication that this seemed to be a noteworthy detail, there had to be more, Georgie thought.

“That he’s been on the market a while and was ’surprised someone like myself is too.’”

“Oh my God!”

“And of course, I’m turning fifty different shades of pink and red the whole time, which only gets worse when he asks me about it!”

“He did not!”

“He did! He was all like ‘you do that a lot, don’t you?’ so I tried to play dumb to see if he’d drop it, but of course he didn’t or I wouldn’t be telling you about it, now would I?” She began rapidly patting Georgie’s knee with her hand, fighting for her life to keep the volume of her voice under control. “And then he said it was cute and to keep it up!”

“I’m loving the fact that he was dishing the flirting back as hard as you were,” Georgie gushed, unphased by her best friend’s antics, “he’s already matching your freak so well.”

“I know! So we finish up, he walks me back to my car, and I gush about how lovely it was to meet him and how I hope to hear from him sooner rather than later. I get in my car, he goes back in, and not two minutes later, guess what happens?”

“Umm, I’m guessing—“

Vec cut her off, unable to contain the excitement bubbling over in her chest and off her tongue. “He calls me and says ‘you said soon, this soon enough?’”

That smile—the same one that plastered Georgie’s face earlier, the one that initiated the debrief—returned once again. “That’s way better than anything I could’ve guessed.”

The surgeon holds a hand to her head, thumb and pinky extended, representing a phone. “So I tell him I’ll text him in the morning since I have to be up at 5, and he goes ‘I expect no later than 5:15.”

“He’s obsessed with you.”

“Well, the feeling’s mutual. Ginny, call me thirsty because I need this man like water.”

Georgie set her glass down to grab another slice from the box, using one hand to hold it with the other hovering underneath to catch any crumbs. “So what else do you know about him?”

“Nothing, really. I know he’s smokin’. I know I’d like to get to know him.” She continued as she sipped at her merlot again, momentarily averting her gaze to the inside of her glass. “And I know all the things I’d like him to do to me.”

“Given how flirty he was, I bet he’s skilled in the bedroom,” Georgie replied, giving Vec a playful nudge in the shoulder. That time, even Georgie’s cheeks were turning a light pink, matching her best friends as their eyes met, a string of giggles flowing off their tipsy lips.

“Oh, definitely.”

A vibration on the coffee table catches the attention of both women. Upon seeing the screen lit up, Vec reaches for her phone, the lock screen revealing a message from an unsaved number. Scanning it with her eyes, a big, stupid grin crept onto her lips. “Hmm…speak of the devil, and he doth appear, even if only virtually.”

“Did he text you?” Georgie’s grin was nearly as big as Vec’s.

“He did.” Vec’s pale complexion changed from pink to rosy red within a matter of seconds.

Georgie scooted closer to her best friend, resting her chin on her shoulder to be able to read the message from this mysterious ‘cutie with the bandana.’ “Well, don’t keep it all to yourself now. What did he say?”

“He said ‘Guess who? I know you said you’d text me in the AM, but I wanted to ask if you got home safe.’” Vec’s smile stretched from ear-to-ear, and her flushed cheeks were already beginning to ache.

“Aww!” Georgie’s heart swelled in her chest, expanding against her ribcage, as if it was even capable of growing any bigger. She already had “the biggest heart of anyone literally ever,” as her best friend had often told her. “Look at him! He’s hardly stopped thinking about you!”

Vec held her hand up, eyes remaining glued to her phone. “Wait, he’s sending more.” Biting her bottom lip, she waited with bated breath, reading his next message almost immediately. “‘You were really bold, and I like that. I’d love to get to know you’ with a winky face.”

“You have to respond,” Georgie encouraged. She left her spot on the couch only for a brief moment, stepping into the kitchen to fill two glasses with water. The debrief sessions were a must, but so was hydration.

Vec set down her phone and removed her glasses, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she yawned, unable to fight the exhaustion of her chaotic day off any longer. “I mean, like he said, I told him I’d text him in the morning. I don’t know how much longer I’m gonna make it.”

“At least let him know you got home safe,” Georgie insisted. Waltzing back from the kitchen and taking Vec’s phone, she shoved it back into her hand, she gave it a light tap. “Don’t let the poor thing be worrying about you all night.”

A soft sigh escaping her nose, she nodded. “Ok. How about ‘Sure did…’” her voice briefly trailed off as she peeled her eyes from her phone to meet Georgie’s gaze again. “Do I do a smiley face or a winky face?”

“I feel like you have to wink back,” she replied, giving Vec’s shoulder a gentle nudge with hers, followed by a smirk, “you’re bold, remember?”

“This is why I keep you around,” Vec smiled, returning the nudge to Georgie’s shoulder, “ok, so ‘sure did’ with the winky face, then ‘I look forward to getting to know you too.’” As she finished typing out her initial response, a potentially genius idea struck her. “Wait, I have more! ‘I’ve been told you’re a bit of a wildcard. Are you ready to meet your match?’”

“You’re such a flirt, you gotta teach me how you do that.”

“Practice, babe. Lots and lots of practice. And making a fool of myself on more than occasion.” Glancing back at her phone, another message came through, her eyes scanning over it before her brain had even registered the vibration. “Ginny…”

She stared at her over the brim of her wine glass, eyes filled to the brim with curiosity. “What?”

Vec’s cheeks turned that sweet baby pink once again. “He said ‘I think I can handle you’ with another winky face.”

“Whoa!” the teacher cried out, “he’s as bold as you are. He really did meet his match.”

Vec held her hand up again, indicating that another series of messages were incoming. She read them off to Georgie as soon as they came through. “’Btw, for selfish reasons, I’m really glad your car battery died today.’” Vec turned to Georgie, giving her a cocky smile and a shrug. “Me too.”

Her phone vibrated in her hand again, this message having her snickering and turning bright red. “Oh my God.”

“What? What did he say?” Georgie was practically begging. Sure, Vec blushed very easily, and very frequently, but if she was turning beet red, it had to be good.

Vec rolled her eyes so hard, they almost did a 360, the giggly scoff that emanated from her chest vibrating across her ribcage. “He asked if I saved him in my phone as ‘cutie with the bandana’.”

Georgie echoed Vec’s giggly scoff. Supposedly cute, friendly, and a good sense of humor? She was certainly beginning to understand why her bestie was so quickly infatuated with this ‘cutie with the bandana.’ “He’s not going to let up on that one, is he?” 

Vec gulped back the rest of her wine, setting the empty glass on the coffee table as a string of flirty, amused giggles trickled from her lips. “Not a chance.”

Vec belongs to me

Georgie belongs to @dixons-sunshine

QOTU taglist: @ripleyswife @gothic-pumpkin @weirdoneattheparty @holdmytesseract

General taglist: @raddydaddydude @lovenormandixon @angeldemoncrowley @negansbestie

You can reach out to either myself or Krys to be added to/removed from the taglist :)

Banner and divider were also made by Krys

© thevegandarkelf & dixons-sunshine. We do not consent to our work being copied, shared, translated, adapted, or posted on any other platforms without our explicit consent and proof of said consent.

[cherrycha0s]

guys did anybody read v. e. schwab's newsletter

what do you mean she's watching hannibal for victorious research purposes???

[leighsartworks216]

You Hate Me

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Sooooo I wrote this one morning when even just laying down had my knees hurting and I was like,, well what if Tav had that too? Also inspired by the fact I get to campus an hour early and still try to rush to the (empty) classroom instead of, ya know, taking advantage of the huge time buffer I give myself

Warnings: swearing, descriptions of joint pain, insecurity, crying, possibly OOC, clown mention

Word Count: 1,545

Masterlist

AO3

Just a bit further. A little further and then you could rest. If you make it to that tree - make it to that tree and you can sit down. Just a bit left to go.

It started almost a week ago. Unable to cope with all the traveling, your right knee started bothering you. With every step you could feel your kneecap shifting back and forth with a dull click. Then, it started to hurt. Nothing serious. If you walked slow enough, you could avoid it. But now every step sent shocks of pain up your entire leg. Your left knee joined the party this morning, removing any sense of relief you had while walking. Even sitting down didn't remove the pain, but you couldn't afford a day off.

Your companions noticed the changes, despite your best effort not to show any outward discomfort. You moved slower, the occasional grimace slipped through, they weren't traveling quite as far. You consider asking Shadowheart for anything that could ease the pain, but you already knew there was little she could do to help. So you grit your teeth and kept going.

Your foot stepped on uneven ground and you nearly dropped from the agony that shot through your whole body. Karlach worried you might actually just collapse. But you kept going.

Astarion couldn't bear it. None of them could - they hated seeing their intrepid leader fight their own body just to go a few more feet - but your struggle settled like a boulder in his stomach. Every time your face scrunched up, every hiss of your sharp inhales, felt like someone had stabbed a knife in his chest and was twisting it ever deeper. He hated the feeling.

With only a few long strides, he slipped from the back of the group to the front, walking alongside you. He had to change his normal gait just so he didn't surpass you. "Darling," he hummed quietly, just loud enough to keep the conversation between you two, "you should rest."

You shook your head. You didn't even spare him a glance. Your eyes didn't shift from the tree. "We're almost there," you dismiss. It's slightly breathless. Despite needing to walk slow to avoid the pain, you were pushing to go faster.

He tsked. "And how far do we still have left to go?" He tilted his head as he looked at you, already knowing whatever distance you said would be too far.

You nodded to a tree dead ahead. "Once we reach that birch, we can rest."

"That birch?" He pointed. "The birch tree that's nearly half a mile away?"

He could feel you bristle with his incredulous tone, but you didn't say anything.

He scoffed. "My dear, I can be stubborn at the best of times, but this is ridiculous! You're barely staying upright as it is."

"I'm fine-"

"No, you're not," he sharply cuts you off. He grabs your arm and pulls you to a stop, holding you there with enough force that you wouldn't slip out and keep going. You refuse to look at him even now. "You're wincing, your hands have been clenched for the last mile, and you keep stumbling. The tree will still be there if you just sit down for a minute."

The rest of the party watches from a distance. Far enough away they can just make out what Astarion's saying, especially as his voice rises in pitch the more frustrated he gets.

Standing still hurts. It's hard to say if it hurts more or less than walking; it just hurts. Your face is pinched as sharp jolts run up through your joints, like someone is poking you with a sewing needle. Walking, you decide, must be better than this.

"It's not that far," you insist, voice low. "And when we get there, we can-"

"Gods above, you're impossible! Fine. Fine! You want to get to that tree, fine." He lets go of your arm.

Before you can even take a step, he's sweeping you into his arms, supporting you with one arm under your back and the other hooked under your knees. The pressure hurts for a moment, but it quickly fades away. The lingering aches are from pushing yourself too hard. He begins marching once more toward your end goal.

You want to shout, to demand he put you down. But when you look up at his face, his eyes are sharper than usual, lips pulled into a tight frown and crease forming between his eyebrows. He's angry.

He's angry with you.

The words die in your throat. You hate being so dependent. You were the leader - you needed to be strong and fearless and without weakness. To receive help feels like someone plunging their hand between your ribs and stealing away a chunk of your worth. But seeing Astarion upset, upset with you, that stings far worse.

You avoid looking over his shoulder. You could just imagine their faces. How Lae'zel would scowl at you for being weak. How Gale's face would turn somber when he realizes you're not as capable as he thought. You couldn't bear it. So you press your forehead to Astarion's neck and stare at your lap.

There's an unwelcome burn at the back of your eyes. Shame floods your chest and crawls up your throat until it chokes you. Water pools along your lower lids and blurs your vision. You can't walk and now you're going to cry. Just how fucking pathetic can you be?

Astarion's head shifts and you can tell he's trying to look down at you. He's trying to see your face. Because he can feel you shaking in his arms. He can hear your lungs quivering as your breaths become uneven and choppy. You press your closed eyes against his throat and he can feel the hot tears against his skin.

His frown softens, though you can't see it. He slows down to a stop and tells the others to go on ahead, to the birch tree just there, and start working on setting up camp, but all you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears. Their faces become fraught with worry; Karlach is the last to go. She still looks back once or twice. Astarion finds a suitable rock and he sits.

"Shh, sweet thing," he cooes, voice no louder than a whisper. His arm around your back pulls you into his shoulder, hand tangling in your hair as he cradles you. His other hand rubs soothing circles along your thigh. You gasp around a sob, body curling further into itself, into him, as you release your emotions. "It's alright."

You strangle out an apology. It's wet and croaky and painful.

"Whatever for?" he asks.

"You're mad at me," you whimper.

He huffs. The frustration from before rises in him again just thinking about it. "Yes, I am."

He feels your breath catch in your throat, and the heaving breath you take after. "You hate me."

Astarion laughs, short and sharp. "Why would I hate you, dear? Because you're too stubborn for your own good?" You don't have a response for him. He kisses your head, wherever he can reach. "I'm mad because you put yourself out trying to solve all of our issues, but the moment you have one of your own, you refuse any help. You're going to tear yourself apart."

He sighs and rests his cheek atop your head. His fingers rub the nape of your neck, gently tugging at the hair there. You carry so much tension, it's a wonder your muscles haven't locked up from the stress.

Time passes slowly in his arms. It seems to take forever before you start to calm down, and even longer before your eyes have dried. He does nothing to speed the process aside from gently hush you when you try to choke out apologies.

You sniffle quietly. Your eyes are raw, and you're all too aware of the stain of water you've left on the vampire's neck. When you speak, it's a painful creak in your vocal chords. "You don't hate me?"

He presses another kiss to your head. "No, love, I don't hate you. Not unless you've done something truly horrific, like invite a clown to show up at camp in the middle of the night." You chuckle weakly. It's such sweet music. "Gods forbid you start donating to charity." You laugh this time, and Astarion's chuckle vibrates against your ear.

His fingers detangle themselves from your hair with one last gentle tug, and his arm wraps around your back once more. As though you weigh no more than one of his pillows, he stands once more with you in his safe grasp, and begins heading for camp. He can see Karlach up ahead light up when she sees you're finally on your way.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I just feel so... useless, like this."

"Please, stop apologizing," he begs, dramatically. "Just say 'thank you' and we can move on."

You peel your face from his skin, dried tears sticking you together. You wince at how disgusting this must be for him. You lean up and kiss his cheek. He smiles at the affection. "Thank you."

Softer, he says, "Of course, my love."

[msschemmenti]

fun police

eventual emily prentiss x reader / bau x reader

summary: reader is hired by hr to monitor morale and implement more self-care moments for agents. the unit she struggles most with is obviously the BAU

a/n: i often forget criminal minds is not a workplace comedy with a sprinkle of killers because i write stuff like this. at my core, i just wanna giggle. sue me ig :) [this is giving more prologue than anything— if y’all are into this idea i’ll post more of this]

emily groaned into the air of her empty office as yet another email rolled across her screen from hr. in theory, the new self-care initiative was definitely a good idea, but she knew her team. and she knew herself. with all the sicarios serial killers still lingering in their minds— a mindful monday break was not priority. they’d skirted around all the previous mandated attempts to unwind due to cases popping up and splitting the team up, but she knew they could only keep that up for so long.

she clicked into the email, the URGENT subject line keeping her from ignoring it. she skimmed the greeting and first paragraph of reprimands for the lack of participation. she got to the next paragraph and instantly paused in dread.

“starting monday morning, the behavioral analysis unit will be assigned a health and wellness agent who will join your team in the field to ensure that you and your team are balancing your work and health appropriately.”

a glorified babysitter? oh the team was going to hate this. it took a certain type of person to weather the storms they did and those types of people did not have healthy coping mechanisms. emily rolled her desk chair back enough to pull out the bottle of wine she hid in a drawer and the glass that accompanied it. if the fun police was coming to town she might as well enjoy this luxury before they arrived.

emily was the first in as always. all that first to arrive, last to leave stuff. but as she walked up the few stairs to her office, she quickly realized she may not have been first after all.

“uh hi? can i help you?” she asked as she stood in the doorway of her office. the woman sat across from her desk turned to look over her shoulder and smiled cheerily. far too cheery for the time of day.

“section chief prentiss, good morning! just the woman i’m here for.” the mystery woman smiled and moved over to extend her hand toward emily. “y/n y/ln, wellness consultant. i believe someone emailed you about my arrival?”

emily’s eyes traveled up the woman’s frame curiously. she was dressed smartly, on the business side of business casual and she looked far too young to be doing the work she was doing. remembering the welcoming part of the email she’d read last week, she plastered on her most practiced diplomatic smile and shook her hand. “nice to meet you miss y/ln. i wasn’t expecting you until this afternoon. please have a seat.”

emily rounded her desk and slid into her desk chair. she watched y/n do the same and subconsciously wondered how someone could look that good this early in the morning. she’d barely had her first cup of coffee and she felt like she was barely functioning. but here this wellness expert was, dressed to the nines and in the office before her.

y/n cleared her throat and slid a folder over to emily with a sheepish smile. “i figured we could touch base a bit on the team and my plans for the time being. and i thought that’d be easier with goals and objectives breakdown.”

goals and objectives breakdown? emily looked from the folder to the y/n and back in a bit of shock. she hadn’t exactly expected there to be folders of information or goals and objectives. she thought they do some meditation and call it a day… but as she opened the folder and saw the detailed breakdowns and plans she realized she was sorely mistaken.

“oh wow, forgive me for my ignorance. but i assumed this would be a sort of once a month morale boosting bonding sort of thing and you’d just sign off on whatever we decide to do.”

y/n didn’t even flinch at emily’s words, only smiled with a chuckle. “well that would’ve been the case a few months ago but based on your teams workload and concerns from outside of this office— the director is looking for something a bit more direct and focused.”

“direct and focused?” emily repeated.

“mmhm, you can see it all outlined there but simply put im here to help every member of your team identify healthy coping mechanisms to combat the work you’re doing. that’ll look different for every member but it’ll be personal. some teams have preferred check in meetings and others like to keep journals. each member can choose how they’d like to work with me.”

emily sighed as she read through the folder and listened to y/n, it was all sounding unnecessary at she was already trying to think of a way to get the team on board. getting rossi to participate was going to kill her. “as you can imagine, i’m not sure how receptive the team will be to these forced wellness sessions…”

“i anticipated that. and i’ve found most teams are far more receptive when their fearless leader is a willing participant. you know leading by example.” y/n spoke suggestively lifting her eyebrow in challenge.

“oh you mean me? you want me to participate in your little exercises so the others will be more willing?” emily asked in disbelief.

“well yes, as much as i believe that you’ve got your own mental health exercises in place— you could humor me with a few sessions.” y/n grinned.

emily eyed her suspiciously, “and if we refuse?”

“well i hope it doesn’t come to that, but after i’ve made my base analysis of the team i’ll have the digression to determine who is and is not fit for field work. and i have a feeling that wouldn’t go over to well.”

“yeah that’s a sure fire way to make some enemies around here.” emily grimaced with a huff.

“thought so.” y/n shrugged but pulled out a black planner and pen and looked at emily expectantly. “so chief, when do you wanna start? promise i’ll make it worth your while.”

[emotionalsupport-ljh]

Breaking and Entering

You don't want Jihoon to worry.

Fluff (a miniscule amount of angst) - woozi x fem!reader

A hell of a lot of words for a sick fic :D Described as "princess treatment" by my friends 😌

AO3 link

Word Count: 3.1k

////////////////////////////////////

Before you even open your eyes, you feel a scratch in your throat that burns like hell. You reach for the water on your nightstand and take large gulps trying to soothe the pain. As your eyes open, they droop heavily and take a moment to adjust to the early morning sunlight that makes its way past your curtains. A chill suddenly attacks the uncovered parts of your body. You duck back under your comforter only to have an oppressive heat come in waves that cause sweat to cling to your forehead. On top of all that, you can’t breathe out of your left nostril. You’re terribly sick.

As you lament in your miserable state, a notification brightens your phone and you have to shut your eyes. You blink them trying to get used to the light, but all it does is give you a headache. You brave through the pain to turn your brightness down and check the notification. It’s a text from your boyfriend, Jihoon.

Jiji: good morning babe~ 😘

You: Good morning!

Jiji: what are ur plans for today? work?

You: No

You pause for a moment before continuing your response. You wonder if it’s a good idea to tell him that you aren’t feeling well today. On one hand, he might want to know that kind of stuff so that he can take care of you. On the other hand, it could cause some unnecessary stress in his already stressful life. Also, with his busy schedule, he probably wouldn’t be able to do much. You decide ultimately that this illness would probably be over quickly, and you don’t want to make Jihoon worry about nothing a little cough medicine and tea would fix.

You: I'm going to take the day off to relax and be lazy lol 😏

Jiji: that sounds nice

i wish i could do the same 😮‍💨

You: Busy schedule today?

Jiji: yup 🙃 but im excited for our date later this week

You: Me too!

Jiji: i have to go to work

text me later

You: Will do! I love you 🩷

Jiji: love u too~🖤

Putting your phone down and taking the chance to move from your bed to at least retrieve some relief in the form of medicine or warm tea, you feel your muscles ache in a way that makes you never want to move again. For now, you stare at the ceiling with the resolve to get over this silly little cold. You fall asleep soon after and stay asleep for many, many hours.

When you finally awaken again, the chill in your bones still hasn't subsided, no matter how many layers of sheet and blanket cover you. You have to force your eyes to open against the deeper sunlight now pouring through the cracks in your curtains. You power through the discomfort to get them to adjust to the brightness. Again, you reach a hand out for your phone and see that it is afternoon and that you have some missed texts from your boyfriend.

Jiji: hey~

wuts up

Jiji: taking an afternoon nap huh

text me when u see this

The messages were all sent about 45 minutes ago. You feel a little bad about lying, but it only strengthens your resolve to get better and put the whole lie behind you. You text back like normal, hoping that he has the time to read and respond even for just a few minutes.

You: Sorry! I fell asleep watching anime

It doesn’t take too long for a reply to pop-up. You had been dating Jihoon for months now, but you still got butterflies every time he texted you. Even now, aching all over and dripping from your face, he makes you feel a warmth you swore would make you even healthier than you were before.

Jiji: oh rub it in my face 🙄 lol

dont get too far without me

You: I would never!! 😫

How’s it been today? You're not too stressed, right?

Jiji: eh

im coping lol

nothing im not used to

You: Don’t push yourself too hard ok? 🥺

You're doing such a great job!!!!!!

Jiji: thx lol

i gotta go. love u~ 🖤

You: I love you too 🩷

You decide to try to come up with the ultimate healing game plan for the rest of the day. You plot out your meals and activities to maximize the time you can spend getting better. Or at least you try to as you come to realize that sleeping an extra 4 and a half hours without getting out of bed means that you’ve yet to relieve yourself. This kickstarts your game plan as you rush to the bathroom.

You power through the aches in your body to finally brush your teeth and put your hair in a manageable bun for the day. You put on your sweats and some socks to keep warm and make your way to the kitchen where you heat up some soup and make a mug of herbal tea. You take medicine and take it easy all day. The change in scenery from your bedroom to the living room not only motivates your mind to change, but also it motivates your body to move. You swear you already feel better.

Unfortunately, the next two days look the same, and you do not, in fact, feel any better. Even with minimal movement throughout the days, you still manage to leave a mess of dirty dishes, clothes, and tissues strewn about the apartment. You are miserable and finally starting to come to terms with it. The delusion of your ability to heal quickly and on your own was finally starting to dissipate. You thought seeing a doctor was a waste of time, but you start to see the necessity of an appointment the more time you spend with a scratch in your throat and a headache hammering your skull.

The worst part, however, is not the pain, nor is it the constant sweating or the need to breathe through your mouth. No, the worst part is that today is Jihoon’s one day off; you are supposed to be ready to go on a date.

It's a little late in the morning when you wake up. You thrash in your bed frustrated that you are still sick and very tired. When you check your phone, there are no new messages. It isn't unusual for Jihoon to sleep in on his days off. You dread having to tell him the truth that you had been sick all week and couldn’t go out tonight. You could anticipate his response: a string of crying emojis and then a laugh where he says he’s just kidding and he’s fine as long as you get better. He wouldn’t really be okay with it, but he would say he is. He would be really disappointed; he isn’t very good at showing his true emotions, but you know he feels them so deeply. You don’t want to cause him any undue stress or heartbreak. At this point, it unfortunately is inevitable.

You grab your phone and hover over Jihoon’s contact, trying to muster the courage to send your good-morning-text and your confession followed by a long apology and promises to make it all up to him one day. You don’t expect your phone to ring, brandishing a very familiar sweet smiling selfie with the name “Jiji” underneath. You are startled then you take a deep breath, clear your throat, and answer.

“Good morning, my baby,” a sleep-rasped voice calls out from the other side.

“Good morning,” you try to answer in a normal voice, doing your best to hide your congestion.

“You sound different. What’s up?” Jihoon caught on immediately.

You whine a little over the phone, only prolonging the inevitable. There’s only silence from the other side. “I’m sick,” you say, then blurt out, “I’ve been sick for the past three days. I really, really tried to get better, honestly. I’m so sorry, Jiji. I can’t go out tonight.”

Your heart beats quickly in your chest, maybe from the nerves of finally coming clean, maybe from the extra exertion on your sick body. The five seconds it takes for Jihoon to respond feel like five hours. All he says is, “Oh. Okay.” After that, he hangs up the phone, leaving you stunned and with a horrible pit in your stomach.

You’re in shock. The kind of shock people feel after breaking a limb or recovering from a disaster. It pushes every other feeling out of your body. You do your morning routine in a fugue state. When you sit back in your bed, it all hits you at once. Tears stream down your face almost unconsciously, and you lay down with your face in your pillow. Eventually, you fall asleep again, too tired from the illness to continue to cry or feel anything.

Jihoon makes up his mind quickly. After abruptly hanging up the phone, he immediately gets up and goes through his own routine faster than ever, even taking 30 minutes off of his normal workout just to have more time for his own plan. After coming home, he does something a little out of character. He goes to the kitchen to cook something that isn’t chicken breast and white rice.

This surprises his roommates. Soonyoung tries to help him with the big pot of what was so far just stock and vegetables. He gets distracted easily, and it takes him a long time to cut up an onion. Jeonghan takes a picture of Jihoon and sends it in the group chat asking if this is normal behavior for Woozis. Seungkwan tries to taste it before the dish is ready and whines when his hand is met with a smack from a wooden spoon.

“This isn’t for any of you. Leave it alone,” Jihoon says in a stern voice.

“Wait, what? Then who is it for?” Soonyoung raises an eyebrow at him.

“Y/N, my girlfriend. She’s sick.”

The mood in the apartment changes. Now, Jeonghan is texting more furiously in the group chat about how Jihoon cares so much about his poor, sick girlfriend. Seungkwan now insists on tasting the dish the whole way through the cooking process to make sure it’s suitable for such refined tastes as his and yours. Soonyoung calls his mom and asks what the best thing is to cure illnesses. It becomes a whole big thing that has Jihoon a little bit annoyed but also grateful his friends care about you almost as much as he cares about you.

Jihoon’s morning and the better part of his afternoon off of work are then filled with surprise visits from Mingyu, Jun, and Seokmin who bring an array of dishes that could feed you for a month and Minghao who brings a special tea blend that he uses when he's feeling sick. Vernon sends a playlist of chill music for you to listen to while you recover, and Wonwoo writes a list of movies he recommends you watch to rest. Chan makes a special delivery of his grandma's famous kimchi, which has the rest of the boys groaning that they don't get any this time. Joshua sends the best essential oil wax melts so you can indulge in some aromatherapy. Finally, Seungcheol makes sure that Jihoon tells you that he can send anything in the world to your house using his card whether it be medicine or a treat from your favorite bakery or even a new designer pajama set to make sure you are at maximum comfort levels.

As he makes his way over to your apartment, Jihoon feels silly carrying a bunch of bags filled with various gifts from everyone on top of the soup he made that seems to pale in comparison. He curses Jeonghan under his breath for telling everyone his plan to bring you supplies, effectively making him the delivery boy because he is the only person who has the passcode to your apartment. He tries to call you on his way over, now adding his phone to the pile he was juggling. It rings a few times and then goes to voicemail. He tries again and meets the same outcome. He assumes that you’re resting; being sick for multiple days sounds exhausting which is why he is so willing to bring over everything he (and the others) could possibly think of to make you feel better.

Jihoon reaches your front door and knocks loud enough that you would be able to hear it from your room, but soft enough that you wouldn’t wake up if you were resting. He waits a beat before just typing the code and letting himself inside. He makes his way to the kitchen and sets down the various bags on the countertops. Only once his arms are empty does he realize the state of the apartment. He slowly takes in the dirty dishes and various random stuff left on the floor. The trashcan is full, and tea bags litter the countertops. There are tissue boxes everywhere, each one full of used tissues.

He walks slowly to your room and, opening the door, he almost couldn’t make out your sleeping shape on the bed. You’re curled up into a ball under many layers of blankets on one side, and on the other was a pile of clothing. There’s more clothing on the floor. Jihoon goes back to the kitchen and takes a deep breath. He meticulously puts all the food everyone prepared into the fridge, rolls up his sleeves, and decides to start there. He makes a list in his head of all the things he could realistically do in the few hours you would be asleep.

The next moment, Jihoon is elbow deep in soapy water scrubbing dishes and wiping countertops. He finds all the cleaning instruments and proceeds to sweep and vacuum. He fills a trash bag with tissues, tissue boxes, and food containers. He gently tiptoes around your room, gathering up the clothes from the floor, which he assumes are dirty, and putting them in the wash. The clothes on the bed, which he checks are clean, are now folded and put in a hamper for later sorting. He even has time to reheat his soup and make a pretty plating of it paired with some rice and a cup of some of Minghao’s herbal tea.

You awaken when you hear dishes clanking in the kitchen. Someone is in your home. You freeze until the noise stops and begin to get up from your bed. With your legs swung over the side of the bed, ready to stand and possibly defend yourself, the door opens slowly and in walks Jihoon with a tray of dishes.

He looks surprised, then flashes a big smile, then says, “Good, you’re awake. It’s time to eat.”

All you can do is stare at him in disbelief as he sets a tray of soup and rice and tea on your lap. He sits cross-legged in the empty space beside you and scrolls through his phone as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

“W…what’s all this?” you stutter out, utterly confused.

“Lunch,” Jihoon answers nonchalantly.

Looking at him beside you, you realize that there is indeed empty space on your bed for him to sit where there was once a pile of clothes. Tears appear behind your eyes when you look around at the spotless floor of your bedroom. You look at your boyfriend as one tear falls.

“Did you…”

“Yeah, it was a real mess in here.” He turns to look at you and uses his thumb to wipe the one tear from your cheek. “Start eating. I bet you haven’t eaten all day. How are you supposed to get better if you don’t eat?”

He was right. You take a spoonful of broth and bring it to your lips. It tastes wonderful. Alternating between tea and soup and rice, you feel fuller, and the heat from the meal eases your throat just a little more. Jihoon looks at you and sees how happy you look to be having a meal that wasn’t microwaved from a package. You are already almost done with the meal after only a few minutes.

“See, you were hungry, huh?” He teasingly shakes his head.

You lightly push your boyfriend's arm. You make a face, suddenly feeling awkward to be around him. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“What? Why? Because you lied to me for days and didn’t let me take care of you? Or because you canceled our date on the day of because you assumed I cared that we went out somewhere?” he starts sarcastically, “I actually hadn’t thought about it all day.”

“I’m serious, Jiji!” you try to whine but end in a cough. He’s laughing at you as you get a little frustrated.

“I’m seriously not mad. I wish you would’ve told me, but being mad won’t fix anything.” His smile is soft, and he’s looking at you with love in his eyes.

“I’m really sorry. I just didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t know it would last this long. Honestly, I don’t know what I have, and you probably shouldn't be sitting so close to me right now.” You weakly try to push Jihoon away, but he sits like a rock, not budging at all.

“I’m fine,” he chuckles, “The plague couldn’t even keep me away from you.” He leans to kiss your forehead.

All your muscles relax as the last few bites on your plate disappear. Jihoon takes the empty tray in one hand and uses the other to guide you to your feet with him. He wordlessly walks you both out of the room. You see that not only is the entire apartment clean, but there are small gifts left out on the coffee table.

“What is all this?” you ask your boyfriend as take a seat on the couch, waiting for him to put the empty plates and bowls from the tray in the sink.

He takes a seat next to you and rubs the back of his neck with one hand and avoids eye contact when he answers, “The guys heard you weren’t feeling great, so, of course, they had to help out, too.” He goes through and shows you the wax melts, medicine, and self-care products. He also tells you about your new stock of homemade meals from the best cooks in the group. You get really excited about the kimchi from Chan’s grandma. He sends you Vernon’s playlist and Wonwoo’s recommendations. He even shows you the text Seungcheol sent him about using his card for whatever you might need.

Everything is perfect for the rest of the evening that was supposed to be a fancy, romantic date night. It turns out that watching movies and listening to music while snuggling and talking is the best medicine for illness and the most romantic date you have ever been on.

[theemporium]

people requested a part two to this wee blurb so here it is because i desperately need some fluff to cope with today's race!!🤠

.

Despite his insistence, Daniel didn’t think you would actually take up his offer. 

He had been dragged around the paddock and the media pen, attending different interviews and conferences and all the other shenanigans media day on a race weekend ensured. And, much to his dismay, he hadn’t seen you once since that morning. 

He assumed you were locked away in some room in the motorhome, most likely drowning in graphs and data sheets from the last few races as you and your colleagues discussed what the best plan of action for the cars would be this weekend. 

He was surprised when he knocked on the engineering staff’s doors, only for every single team member to tell him that they hadn’t seen you since the last meeting. 

Daniel would be lying if he said his concern didn’t grow—especially when his messages to you came back unanswered. 

He found himself running around the paddock like a mad man, stopping by other team’s garages to see if you had stopped by. A move that was ultimately useless because he couldn’t find you and all he got was shit from other drivers. 

“Lost your girl, lover boy?” Lando had teased, the nickname somehow having made its way around the paddock—probably by Max himself. 

“Shut up, Norris,” Daniel grumbled, and it was a shock to a lot of the paddock to see the Aussie driver so grumpy. 

He had convinced himself that maybe you had headed back to the hotel early and quickly raced back to his driver’s room, prepared to grab his stuff and bolt before someone could drag him into another media duty, only to fall short when he caught the sight in front of him. 

You were lying on the couch, still bundled up in his hoodie with your arms tucked under your head as a pillow, looking far more peaceful than you did that morning. 

His face instantly softened, and he quickly glanced down the hall before he closed the door behind him, making his way toward the couch until he was kneeling beside you. 

“Sunshine,” he murmured softly, reaching to gently shake your shoulder but you remained fast asleep. He frowned a little, wondering just how little sleep you had gotten the night before to be so tired during the day. 

He muttered your name this time, a little louder and when he shook you, he found you slowly blinking your eyes open. 

You let out a soft whine, nuzzling your face further into your arms and Daniel smiled a little at the sight. 

“C’mon, sunshine, if you sleep any longer, you won’t be able to sleep tonight,” he grinned down at you, watching as you lifted your head to stare at him. 

“Danny?” you murmured sleepily before everything clicked. Realisation dawned on you and you quickly tried to get up, ignoring the rush to your head from moving so quick. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry—”

“Hey, hey,” he frowned and placed his hands on your shoulders, stopping you from getting up. “It’s fine, I said you could nap in my room for a reason.” 

“I wasn’t meant to, I—” you paused, letting out a sigh. “I just came here to wait for you until you finished up. I must’ve fallen asleep.” 

Daniel didn’t bother hiding his grin. “You were waiting for me, sunshine?” 

Your cheeks burned but you nodded. “I was gonna offer to get you dinner, to say thank you.” 

The Aussie’s grin widened. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you murmured before tucking your chin against your chest. “But you’re probably busy so I’ll just—”

“Woah, woah, woah, not so fast, sunshine,” Daniel pushed you back onto the couch before you could get up, still kneeling in front of you. “Who said I was too busy to get dinner with a pretty girl like you?” 

You could’ve sworn your body was on fire at this point, and a part of you wondered how much Daniel enjoyed making you squirm. 

“You gotta stop saying stuff like that, Ricciardo,” you laughed, hoping the nerves in your voice weren’t obvious. “Or else I might start getting the wrong idea.”

“And what idea would that be?” he asked, his eyes never once leaving yours.

Yet, you found yourself unable to reply.

“Because I would hope that the girl I like is starting to catch the hint that I have been flirting with her for the last few months,” he announced, so casually that for a second you thought you imagined it.

You blinked. “What?”

Daniel grinned. “Did you actually not hear me or do you just wanna hear me say I like you again, sunshine?” 

Your face softened. “You like me?” 

“Of course I do,” he murmured, his hands resting on your knees as he gave them a soft squeeze. “Thought I was being pretty obvious with it.” 

“Not obvious enough,” you muttered.

“The boys would think otherwise,” Daniel snorted. “Now, how about you get that pretty ass up and we get some dinner so I can tell you all about how much I like you?”

You laughed. “My treat, Ricciardo.”

Daniel scoffed, pushing himself to stand up before offering his hand to you. “You’re fucking delusional if you think I’m letting you pay, sunshine.” 

“How am I meant to show I like you too?” you asked, unable to hide your smile as the driver tucked you under his arm, grinning down at you too.

“I don’t know, I think a kiss would be pretty telling,” he shrugged.

You rolled your eyes. 

“But I have a feeling I might have to wait until you’re not as hangry before I get one from you.”

.

[wanderingelvis]

Omggg cg!Elvis x littleF!reader who’s sick and keeps slipping into littlespace cuz of how sick she is so he takes care of her despite the possibility of him getting sick? 🥺

Thank you so much for the request!! I hope you like it <3

🧚 Masterlist 🧚

Word count: 2,135

Pairing: Early 70's CG!Elvis x Little F!Reader

Oh Lord, you were trying so hard, so so hard to be a big girl.

You knew that Elvis had so much on his schedule, the Colonel was working him and you too by default. You'd been on the road with Elvis, helping out where you could like the good little girlfriend you were, but it had become all a bit too much and you had caught some sort of bug that was making you feel all kinds of miserable.

And when you were ill, well, that was the most sure fire way for you to slip into little space. You just weren't very good at being independent and coping with the overwhelming and horrible feelings you were having.

But you were trying, you really, really were. You didn't want to interfere with the schedule, Elvis had a lot on his mind and you'd be damned to cross paths with the Colonel when there was so much money to be made. Even when you were feeling your best, you still didn't like to even be in the same room as the Colonel.

All morning you'd felt achey, sore and tingly all over with a fever creeping in. Naturally, you'd been quieter than usual, trying to stop yourself from slipping but it was becoming inevitable.

Your body just wasn't strong enough and you felt exhausted and vulnerable as you sat in Elvis' dressing room as he did a run-through of his show tonight.

You'd found a spare blanket and you were curled up in the corner of the large couch as members of staff and the Memphis Mafia alike walked past you, a few giving concerned looks your way, in particular, Red, who watched as you rested your head on your arms and closed your eyes.

See, being in the state that you were in meant that you had absolutely no concept of time and when you were woken from the light slumber you were in, you had no idea how long you'd been asleep for.

"Baby?" That familiar deep, Southern voice hushed, laced with concern as your eyes sleepily opened, staring up at Elvis who was studying your state with worry on his face after Red had told him that you seemed unusually low today.

You blinked adorably up at him and if you weren't so apparently sick, Elvis would do the most unspeakable things to you.

Elvis sighed, realising how wiped and sick you were as he put the back of his coarse hand on your forehead to check your temperature, which was far too high for his liking.

You couldn't bring yourself to speak, you felt all achey and sore and your head was just so fuzzy that you were pretty much ready to let tears spill down your cheeks.

And Elvis could tell. He'd been with you for long enough now to know your little space 'tells'. You'd go non-verbal, your eyes would get all big and round and glossy, because even after all this time, you still got nervous about being little in front of Elvis - a fact that Elvis actually thought was very sweet and endearing. You'd start chewing on something too, whether it was your toy stuffy, your lip or your fingers, you'd chew on something as you tried to get all your thoughts in order. And there you were, chewing on your lip as you trembled from the fever.

"Oh little one, you ain't feelin' too good huh?" Elvis cooed, to which you shook your head ever so slightly. "Oh baby. Need me to look after you, princess?" Elvis asked as you pushed yourself up feebly, the blanket pooling by your waist as you nodded and rubbed your eyes sweetly.

Effortlessly, Elvis scooped you up in his big, strong arms and your head automatically went to rest on his shoulder as you began to chew on your fingers anxiously, wanting this horrible feeling to go away.

"Y/N is comin' down with somethin' nasty, I'm gon' take care of her, let everyone know they can go home, I ain't leavin' her today." Elvis said to Jerry before he carried you to his private elevator that took him right to the suite that the two of you shared at the top of the International.

As soon as the doors closed, Elvis began to rock you gently. "Gon' get you undressed baby, take off all yer clothes and get you in the tub, give you some medicine that's gon' make you feel all good n'better then we're gon' get you into bed to rest n' take it easy. How does that sound pretty girl?" Elvis soothed.

You nodded into his shoulder, feeling vulnerable and weak as he held you tightly, you couldn't help but let out a couple of sniffles too.

"Little one, d'ya think you can use your words f'me?" Elvis said. He knew you'd go non-verbal whenever you were feeling overwhelmed and little, and usually he wouldn't push you, but when you were feeling little and sick, he needed to know that you could still understand what he was saying and there wasn't anything more serious that was underlying.

"J-Just, don't feel good Daddy." You whimpered and oh if Elvis' heart hadn't broken in two when he first saw you on that couch, it certainly had now.

The name that you'd just called him was definitive confirmation that you were deep in little space and you needed to be treated as delicately as possible.

"I know baby, I know you don't, Daddy's gon' take care of you." Elvis promised, kissing the top of your head as you got out of the elevator into the suite.

Elvis wasted no time in taking you straight to the bathroom, sitting you atop the bathroom the counter as he rolled up the sleeves on his blue silk shirt, one that you'd actually picked out for him because you thought he would look "extra pretty" in it and began to run the bathtub full of warm water for you. He then went through the bathroom cabinet, through the one that held all of the medicines you may need for any particular reason, before he found the right one for your fever and chills.

"Now, you gotta be a brave girl f'me, I know this don't taste too good baby, but it's gon' help make you better, 'kay?" Elvis said as he poured the medicine onto a spoon, ready to feed you as you watched on, grimacing a bit, you hated having to take medicine.

"I don't wanna..." You practically whispered.

"Darlin', I know it ain't nice, but you gotta take it like a good girl, can you do that fr'me?" Elvis said, his tone becoming a little sterner than before, you taking your medicine is not something he was going to compromise on.

You nodded but not without small tears forming, making Elvis feel quietly guilty, he wished that it was him that was sick, he'd give anything to swap places with you. It really did pain him to see you in this state.

"Okay, open them pretty lips fr'me angel, just like that, good." Elvis encouraged as he fed you the spoon with the medicine.

He used his pointer finger on his other hand to poke just under your jaw ever so slightly to close your mouth around the spoon. "Good." He hissed, nodding in approval at how good you were being.

Slowly, he took the spoon out of your mouth as he studied your face, your eyes staring up at him as your nose scrunched up at the sour tasting medicine.

"Baby, that medicine ain't gon' do a damn thing stuck in your mouth like that." Elvis half-heartedly chuckled, knowing you were being a little too stubborn for your own good. "Swallow." He commanded gently.

And, like the good girl you were, you did just that - although with a grimace on your sweet little face the entire time.

"Good girl." Elvis praised softly, as he began to take off your clothes for your bath.

You watched as his coarse, ring-clad hands traced your skin, causing shivers to travel through your already sensitive skin. Elvis hushed you reassuringly, saying sweet nothings to reassure you that you were okay, that he was your Daddy and he was going to make you better, and you believed him.

After you were fully undressed and after Elvis checked the water temperature, Elvis helped you into the tub where you instantly loved the sensation of the hot water on your shivering skin.

"Does my little girl like that?" Elvis smiled warmly as he watched you smile for the first time today, even if it was only a small one.

You nodded as you brought your knees to your chest to rest your head on your knees, your head tilted so you could watch your Daddy.

Elvis grabbed a loofah and took to gently washing you, getting you all soapy and lathered up in the suds as he watched you practically preen in delight at his touch.

"Bein' such a good girl fr' Daddy, ain'tcha?" Elvis soothed.

"Yes Daddy." You said sweetly, your eyes closed in bliss as Elvis continued to wash you all over.

"That's right, that's my girl." Elvis praised as he held out one of your arms to wash it, as if you were some sort of a doll for him to move as he pleased. You were so malleable and so sweet and Elvis loved nothing more than to take care of you.

When Elvis was done washing you, he scooped you up out of the tub and wrapped you up in a fluffy towel, holding you tightly and peppering you in kisses, eliciting a few soft giggles from you.

He knew you were feeling little, you were so overwhelmed and he knew the last week had taken it's toll on you. You were a little people pleaser, so much so, that you'd taken on much more than sweet, little you could manage. You would comply to anyones request and you'd caused yourself to become burnt out and Elvis couldn't help but feel responsible for not stepping in sooner - even if he knew that if he had stepped in, you would've begged him to let you help out as much as possible because you were just a little angel sent from heaven. Elvis quickly got you dressed into your favourite pyjamas that you wore when you were feeling little. They had cartoon horses on them and you'd adorably named each one, one morning whilst Elvis was reading his paper and drinking his morning coffee.

He took special care as he dressed you, mindful that your body was still tender and sore.

As Elvis led you to your bed, you began to feel all drowsy and achey again, making you extra clingy and needy with Elvis, but he secretly didn't mind.

Elvis tucked you up in bed and placed your stuffed bunny in your little grasp, smoothing back your hair that had fallen in front of your face.

After placing a kiss atop of your head, Elvis began to make his way from the bedroom to let you sleep before he heard a whine come from your lips.

"Oh honey, what's the matter?" Elvis cooed, making his way back to the bed before you reached out your arms wide and made grabby hands at Elvis, making him chuckle ever so.

"Daddy, stay," You whimpered. You were not in any fit state to not be close to Elvis. "Don't go, need you." You mumbled cutely.

Elvis smirked as he began to remove his shoes and get atop the bed, next to you, placing one arm across the pillows where your head rested so that you were able to slot into his side and snuggle into him as you clasped onto your stuffed bunny too.

"I ain't goin' anywhere baby, now rest your eyes honey, you need to get your strength back little one." Elvis instructed, his fingers running through your hair, sending shivers through you as you let your eyes close.

Elvis continued to play with your hair as he reached over to his bed-side table with his other hand and grab the telephone.

"Jer? Yeah, Jer, tell the Colonel to tell whoever needs to know that the show ain't happenin' tonight, reschedule, cancel, I don't care. I gotta take care of Y/N, ain't no way I'm leavin' her tonight, not in the state she's in. Okay. Thanks Jer." Elvis said into the receiver before putting it down again.

You couldn't help but feel bad as you nestled into Elvis' side. "Daddy?" You said meekly.

"Yes baby?"

"You don't got to cancel your show Daddy." You said softly, your big eyes looking up at his blue ones.

"Little one, I ain't ever wanna do a show if you ain't in the crowd." Elvis said firmly and you knew he wasn't going to budge on the matter - and with that you drifted off in the arms of your Daddy.

[happiest-hotch]

Can you write something summer-y for Hotch? Maybe he comes home early from a case and finds Reader and Jack having fun in the pool? Or anything that gives that summer feeling lol

One of the best things about living with Aaron and Jack, aside from getting to live with your favorite people in the world, is the pool.

You didn’t understand why it was such a deal breaker for him since he and Jack barely used the one at his old apartment, until summer rolled around and with it, the heat.

DC’s heatwave would have killed you without a pool.

Jack had jumped in right after soccer day camp and after an hour of cooling off, he finally agreed on coming inside for dinner. The routine is a little more relaxed when Aaron’s away, even more so when it’s summer vacation.

That reason alone is probably why he easily convinced you to get back in the pool after dinner and TV, just before bedtime.

But it’s Friday and wearing him out means he’ll sleep to mid morning Saturday and hopefully it serves as a distraction from him missing his dad. Night time is usually when he misses his dad the most do you do what’s possible to ensure he’s asleep as son as his head his the pillow.

Aaron has echoed the same feeling when you talk to him on the phone, and he definitely has it worse, halfway across the country in Dallas where the weather is switching between thunderstorms and extreme humidity.

“You wanna play Marco Polo?” You ask Jack, distracting yourself from looking at the barbecue and remembering Aaron grilling just before he left.

He splashes some water your way before answering. “Okay, you go first. I’ve been practicing holding my breath though so you’ll lose.”

His identical competitive spirit to Aaron’s doesn’t go unnoticed by you and you grin as you splash some water back.

You cup your hand over your eyes, listening to him splash away from you. “Marco!” You call.

“Polo.” The reply came from a voice far too deep to being to an eight year old and you pull your hands off your eyes to see Aaron standing by the pool’s edge.

“Daddy!” Jack exclaims, jumping out of the pool and running over to hug Aaron. He’s soaking wet, dripping with chlorinated water, but Aaron don’t hesitate to hug him. He shed his jacket and tie, but you’re not sure how he’s coping with how hot it is in a long sleeve shirt and dress pants.

“Hey, bud.” Aaron greets him. “What are you doing up at…” He pauses to check the time on his watch, eyes darting to you still in the pool. “…8:42.”

You give Aaron your best puppy dog eyes, although you know he’s not mad. “Swimming, duh.” Jack replies, sassy as always.

You bite back a chuckle as Aaron does the same thing. “Yeah, I gathered that.” He says.

“Come in.” Jack insists. “You have to.”

“It’s late and you should probably be in bed already.” Aaron says, taking the firm line like you expected he would.

It’s okay though because you have a plan. “Can you give me a hand up?” You ask, swimming to the edge and holding your hand out.

Aaron frowns slightly, but he’s too excited to see you to ask why you won’t use the stairs. “Sure.” He reaches out to grab your hand but you pull hard, overpowering him easily since he doesn’t expect it.

You quickly swim out of the way, and he lands in the pool behind you, yelping- hilariously- when he hits the water.

Jack’s laughing with you, thoroughly amused by your mischief and enjoying seeing his professionally dressed dad in the pool.

When Aaron surfaces, he’s failing too glare at you. He’d fully commit to the bit of being annoyed if he wasn’t smiling so widely.

“You’re naughty.” Aaron says, waggling his finger at you.

You swim closer to him, brushing some hair off his forehead. “Welcome home.”

[alienpossession]

My stepson is a rather troublesome kid, especially after his mother's passing. He soon dropped out of college, losing the sense of direction he had and just straight out spiralled into a mess. Not to mention that his coping mechanism involved him to hung out with the wrong crowd and start smoking too despite his mother in the past clearly forbid him since he was a prospective star athlete. He also started to grow agitated to the world and overall just disrespect authorities, which included me as the last person that is bold enough to reprimand him while on his way to do his antics

After one of our early morning argument as he arrived back home from clearly a long night he did doing God knows what, he just stormed into his room after giving me a middle finger and cursed under his breath. I decided that enough is enough and I did what I knew best to handle reckless and wild human like that

You see....I was not from this planet. I arrived around 20 years ago into this farmland where I stumbled with this young studly farmer that just about to start his days. I slid into him and never left his body as I decided that I would be safe and undetected as long as I did not slid out of him while the search for me was still active. I was paranoid that if I ever left this body, suddenly the detection system spotted me so I resisted the temptation to leave and remained hidden inside while controlling this human that I cultivated into the best version it could be. But this little punk really pushed me to my limit. I'm just so desperate trying to prove my humanity and ability to disciplined the smaller and younger human I supposedly have authority over, I pushed myself out and slid into the sleeping body of my stepson. Once I slid in, I went straight to his brain and started to work it while he's sleeping soundly with zero awareness that a far more intelligent being is currently rewiring his organ responsible for free thinking into one filled with obedience and submissiveness. I was not necessarily the expert on brain's anatomy but I know which part I should and should not touch. Once I felt like my job has been precisely executed, I slid out of his brain and entered back to my original vessel.

Now, imagine my surprise that not only I made that punk into a more docile and submissive version of himself, I somehow made him gay too as I checked on him after the rework I did to his brain. And I guess I graced the part where he can pick up aroma even more strongly this time and that caused him to be a musk-whore for everything's sweaty and pungent. His obsession to his own pits clearly were a sight to behold as it was a far cry from his womanizer self I have to witness for the past few years he brought home girls to his bedroom.

Aside from his own self, he also loved me. Not the usual familial love, this boy is clearly fucked in the head as he viewed me as some sort of authority to please. It's like him calling me daddy is laced with sexual innuendo rather than the usual way a kid called up his parents. So, like the good father I am and to avoid getting him jumped on me while I sleep as I didn't satisfy his needs, I decided to change our family time where I asked him to have dinner with me to him sniffing my feet and servicing my needs. It's not as cool (and normal human looking) as having him seated next to me watching the TV together or having warm dinners, but that's the way we live nowadays and not like he's complaining anyway.

I guess I really need to do better with all this brain rewiring

[darksigns-exe]

you help me lose my mind - jolly x reader x nick

Pairing: Jolly Karlsson x f!reader x Nicholas Ruffilo Warning: Swearing, consumption of alcohol, protected intercourse, fingering, oral sex (f recieving), hand jobs, a teeny tiny bit of angst Word Count: 4.1k Masterlist | PART 2 | Taglist Sign up

Your head doesn’t swim nearly enough for a place like this. Bodies are stacked against bodies, grinding against each other as the bass pounds through the air. You force your way through the crowd, pushing past the sweaty masses until the bar finally comes into view. The friends you came here with are long gone. You’ll reconvene in the morning, it always goes this way. 

A rush of cool air blows into your face when you finally break through the crowd. You draw in a deep breath. The heat between the bodies is almost too much, and a part of you wants to dip out early. You shake the thought from your mind, though. You’re here to have a good time, and you’re not going to let a little bit of a bad mood get in the way of that. 

You’re still not entirely sure how exactly your friend managed to get you into this industry party, or what kind of industry party it even is. But you’re here now, surrounded by good-looking people, and you only feel a little out of place. 

The bar finally comes into sight, and really you can’t wait to down another drink. Perhaps not the healthiest way to cope with the anxious tingle in the back of your mind, but it’s the best you can do right now. You weave through the far less dense crowd until you find a free stool. As much as you like the look of these shoes, they are absolute hell after a while. A little break will be nice. 

You order another drink. Something sharp that’ll make your throat burn in just the right way. And that’s when you spot them. 

They’re awfully close, one just a little bit taller than the other, but not less intense. One of them has his hair pulled back in a low bun, while the others hangs down to his chest. You’re immediately caught staring. The taller one leans down, brushing his fingers against the other's cheek while he whispers something in his ear. You fight against the instinct to look away from them and instead fix the one with the bun with the same intensity he awards you with. 

He smiles just a little bit, the corner of his lip quirking up just enough for you to see from across the bar. The taller one presses a kiss to the other's cheek before he removes himself. You lose track of him rather quickly and return your attention to the man that is still fixing you with that curious glare. 

“Is this one free?” 

You turn to see who the new arrival is, and find yourself faced with the counterpart of the man still staring at you. 

You nod, and he slides in the empty spot next to you. A waft of a deep woodsy scent floods through your senses. His tall stature and the dark eyes that suddenly feel a lot warmer lure you in, perhaps a little too easily. 

You patiently wait for his next move. Surely, he’s come here with some kind of plan. 

He asks for your name, which you give in exchange for his. 

Joakim. 

He’s very effective in figuring out what you’re here with friends and not attached to anyone without it sounding creepy. You’re not sure if it’s the drinks you’ve had or the way he looks at you, but your head already swims with that dizzy feeling. 

“I’ll be very honest with you, darling. Nick and I like to invite a third party sometimes. We liked how you look, and I think the three of us could have a lot of fun.” Between the earnest tone of his voice and the gentle warmth in the way he looks at you, you feel as if you could easily back out of this if you wanted. 

If you wanted. 

“You can say no, and I’ll go back over there, and you won’t see us again.” He continues, “And even if you say yes, you’re free to back out at any time. No hard feelings.”

You mull over it for a moment. 

“Nick’s your —?”

“Boyfriend.” 

“Is this something you do often?”

He shakes his head, “Finding the right person isn’t as easy as you’d think. But I promise you that we’ll take good care of you.”

“Where would we go?”

“We’re staying in the hotel down the street. But if you’d rather do this at your own place, that’s an option too. But I can understand that inviting two practical strangers into your home is not ideal either.”

“That nice hotel with the plant walls?”

He nods, “That’s the one.”

That really piques your interest. They’re both well-dressed, and you know that this particular hotel is fairly pricey. They are incredibly intriguing, and you simply can’t bring yourself to say no. 

“How about you introduce me to your boyfriend, then?” you say, before throwing back the rest of your drink. 

An almost wicked smile works his way onto his lips then. 

You slide off your chair and following through the few stray people towards the other side. For now, you don’t feel very nervous about the whole thing. You’re sure that the nerves will make themselves known before long. 

You’re formally introduced to Nick. From up close, he looks even prettier, and you can’t help but feel a little bit jealous of either of them, really. 

You talk for a moment longer, just to break the ice. You learn that they’re in a band and just here for a couple of days. A real shame, you find yourself thinking. 

Their room is gorgeous. They’re quite high up and their view over the city is fantastic. You’ve lived here for a few years, but you’ve never had the chance to see your home like this. You’re so focused on the new that you don’t notice Jolly coming to stand behind you. 

His fingers brush across your bare shoulder, tearing you out of your trance. 

“It’s a lovely view, isn’t it?” he asks quietly. 

Before you can answer, though, Nick speaks up, “Best we’ve had so far, I’d say.” 

You look over your shoulder to find him sat comfortably in one of the armchairs, watching the both of you intently. 

Jolly leans in close, lips grazing against your neck. His breath fans across your skin, making the delicate little hairs stand straight up. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen. You can say no at any point. You’re the guest, so we’re playing by your rules. Is there anything that’s entirely off the table for you?”

You list off a few things, all of which he acknowledges and assures you will not be brought up tonight. You go over a few more safety things, before you finally feel his hands drifting lower on your body. His hands fit perfectly against your waist, pulling you back against his chest. 

“How about we give Nick an even better view?” He whispers, lips mere millimetres away from your skin. 

A like of kisses is pressed along the length of your neck and shoulder. His hand brushes the thin strap of your dress down your shoulder. 

You feel awfully exposed, despite the fact that you’re still entirely dressed. Nick’s piercing gaze seems to bore right through your defences. He watches intently as Jolly touches you, runs his hands along the sides of your body. 

“Can I take off your dress?” He asks, lips barely lifting from your skin. 

You nod, but Nick quickly shoots a pointed look your way, “Words.”

The way he says it sends a shiver down your spine. 

“I’ll ask you again, can I take this off?” Jolly’s finger tugs at the thin strap. 

“Yes. Please.” You catch yourself sounding a lot needier than you had hoped. 

“Pretty and polite.” Nick replies, “Go ahead, honey.”

One hand leaves your side and wanders to find the zip of your dress. 

You hold your breath as he drags it down. He’s so very gentle when he removes the garment from your body, taking care not to nick or pinch your skin. The fabric falls from your body. Jolly helps you step out of the garment, before he picks it up and places it on top of another armchair. When you had felt exposed today, you now feel like the main attraction at an exhibition. Their attention is entirely on you, and while Nick isn’t touching you, you can feel his eyes drift across every inch of your body. 

“Sit on the edge of the bed for us, darling.” Jolly says just loud enough for you to hear. 

You do as he asks, curious as to what exactly they have planned for you. You wonder if Nick is going to get involved, or if his enjoyment in this comes from watching his partner take someone else apart. 

The two exchange a few whispered words that don’t reach your ears. Their exchange feels incredibly intimate. You catch a glimpse of Nick’s hand resting against Jolly’s waist. They kiss before Jolly returns to you, and you briefly wonder what they would look like together. 

Jolly comes to stand in front of you. He towers above you, somehow even more impressive. 

His hand comes to rest against your cheek. 

You let him tilt your head upwards.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks softly, eyes flickering across your face, seemingly searching for a trace of hesitance. 

“Please.” you gasp, suddenly feeling so very breathless. 

It feels like hours pass until his lips finally meet yours. You let your eyes fall shut and allow yourself to sink into the feeling. Your lips part for him before he has the chance to ask. His hand leaves your cheek to curl into your hair, pulling you impossibly closer to him. Your own hands find his waist, as you try to ground yourself. He urges you backwards, coming to hover above you. 

He trails kisses along the length of your neck and down the centre of your chest. Hands cover your breasts, as he descends further. Jolly sinks to his knees in front of you, and only when he is fully settled do his lips disappear from your skin. He undoes the small buckles of your shoes, placing barely there kisses against the insides of your ankles once he has removed each shoe. 

“Lift your ass up for me.” 

Once again, you wordlessly follow his order. 

Your panties are swiftly removed from your body and tossed to the side. When you check out of curiosity, you see Nick pick them off the ground before he returns to his previous spot in the armchair. Your attention is torn from him, when you feel the scrape of teeth against the inside of your thigh.

“Eyes on me, pretty girl.” Jolly seals the words with a kiss to your other thigh, “You can lie back if that’s more comfortable for you. If you need a break, squeeze my hand twice.”

Another kiss is placed against your skin, higher this time. He urges your thighs further apart, before he dives into you. A first gentle lick draws against your folds and your hand curls around his. It’s dizzying. Sure, you’ve had someone between your thighs like this before, but Jolly seems to know exactly how to work you already. 

His lips curl around your clit, sucking just harshly enough to make you gasp out loud. You don’t miss the low chuckle that sounds from the other end of the room. From there he drifts lower still, licks against your hole, tongue briefly dipping into your wetness. 

“Does she taste as good as she smells?” You hear Nick ask then. 

Jolly stays buried between your thighs for a brief moment longer, before he drags himself away from you, “She’s perfect. Aren’t you, darling?” He squeezes your hand gently. 

“Might have to get a taste of my own next time.” 

Next time. 

The thought is quickly pulled from your head when you feel the first brush of a finger against your folds. You let yourself fall backwards against the bed, when he eases the digit into you. 

“There you go.” His praise sears right through you, “You’re doing so well.”

You sigh when his finger sinks fully into you. He only has one finger inside, but you already feel so full of him. His finger curls against your walls, making you cry out in pleasure. He takes his time, slowly easing another finger into you. The thick digits stretch you open so deliciously. By now, you struggle to stay still in any kind of capacity. Your whines and moans fills the room, and you can feel yourself barrelling towards the inevitable end.  

“You feel so good around my fingers.” Jolly speaks with a groan, “Bet you’ll feel even better around my cock.” 

His fingers curl and spread inside you. That coil in your belly is growing more and more taut with every thrust into you. And then his thumb presses against your clit, making your hips buck up against him. Your hand grips his just a little tighter, and for a moment his movements slow as he seemingly tries to gauge if you need a break. When the second squeeze doesn’t come, he doubles down on his efforts. His movements speed up significantly. Your free hand wraps around the top sheet, trying to find some kind of purchase as you feel yourself falling apart. 

You think that you feel his lips, his tongue against your clit again, but with how overwhelming the pleasure is, you can barely tell where up and down are. Your climax ebbs over you like a wave, slowly taking you apart tendon by tendon. He doesn’t falter, keeps the strokes of his fingers at a steady speed that has you whining and moaning with overwhelm. 

You cry out his name as you come undone. 

You’re sure that you’re bordering on incoherent. The only thing that matters at that moment is how good you feel, how good he makes you feel. The hand, you had previously wrought into the sheet, wraps around his wrist. The feeling goes from just right to too much within seconds, and you try to wriggle away from him. 

“Too much?” 

You nod desperately, trying to articulate what you wanted. 

When you finally find the energy to turn your head, you find Nick with his shirt mostly undone, hand pressed against his crotch. He notices you looking at him and nods towards you, silently telling you to return your focus to the man between your thighs. 

At some point, he had taken his shirt off, exposing his toned chest and stomach. You just catch him cleaning off his fingers on the top sheet. There’s a faint little smile on his face that makes your chest thump with a feeling you aren’t quite ready to deal with yet. 

“Good to go on or do you need a break?” Jolly asks, as he sets himself upright again. 

“Just a moment.” you reply, admittedly a little breathless. 

He leans over you, to brush the hair sticking to your forehead away. His fingers trail across the side of your face, along your jaw, before he pulls away as if he’d been burned. 

“I’ll get you a bottle of water.” he says quickly. 

You remain lying down for a moment longer. You can hear Jolly rummaging through the minibar somewhere behind you. To your side, Nick eyes you curiously. 

“He’s good, isn’t he? I know it can be a lot.” 

You nod, not quite trusting your voice. 

“I’m still here, you know.” Jolly cuts in. 

He brushes his fingers through Nicks hair. The gesture is so tender that you feel a little like an intruder. You watch as Jolly presses a kiss to the other man's temple, before he tears himself away from him. 

You take a good few sips of water, before handing the bottle back to Jolly. 

“How are you feeling, darling?”

“Good.” You nod, now feeling a little more settled again. 

“Do you want to keep going?” 

You hadn’t realised it until just now, but the repeated check-ins made you feel incredibly safe. 

“Please.” 

Your whiny tone draws laughter from both men. 

“They never say no, honey.” 

You chose to ignore the pang of jealousy and instead reach out for him. Your hands find his waist again, carefully luring him back to you. 

You’re sure that you’ll never get sick of the way he kisses you, the way his hand feels so large against your cheek. 

He urges you back just a little bit before he undoes his belt and trousers. You watch in awe as he strips from his clothes. And now you understand why he’s taken so much time and care to prepare you. 

He’s rock hard, leaking at the reddened tip. Jolly works his hand across his length, groaning when his palm brushes across the sensitive head. 

You watch as he picks up a little foil package from the night stand. A part of you is glad that you don’t have to ask him for it. In previous encounters, you’d always been the one arguing for more protection, just to be disappointed by the reluctance of your partner. 

Jolly places one knee on the bed in front of you. 

“Ready, sweet girl?” He asks. 

His hand is warm against the inside of your thigh, keeping you spread wide for him. 

“Ready.”

Jolly guides the head of his cock towards your folds. He drags his tip through your wetness, before he brings it to your entrance. Despite knowing better, you hold your breath when he pushes into you. The stretch is almost overwhelming, even with his preparation. 

One of his hands grips into your waist, while the other slowly guides his length into you. He pauses once he’s fully settled inside of you. His chest heaves with laboured breaths. 

Your legs automatically wrap around his waist. 

You force yourself to look at his face, only to find Jolly already gazing down at you. There’s a softness on his face that makes your breath catch in your throat. His now freed hand comes to brace himself against the mattress, allowing him to lean down to kiss you again. While he has your attention like this, he begins a slow but steady rhythm. 

It’s dizzying. 

You feel so very full of him, but at the same time it’s never enough. His pace slowly increases. Your body shakes with every thrust into you. Jolly somehow manages to hit all the right spots. His hand comes to grope at your breast. At the same time, his lips descend along your neck once more. You feel him pause at the junction of your shoulder and neck. The sting of him sucking a mark into your skin, does little to distract you from the way his cock feels inside of you. 

He groans against your skin. Your own whines and moans fill your ears. And between the obscene slapping of skin against skin and the sounds the both of you make, you almost miss the rustling behind you. And it isn’t until the bed dips down behind you that you become curious about what is happening behind you. But Jolly, shifts your thighs around his waist, changing the angle just enough to tear your mind from it again. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. You feel so fucking good.” he gasps, “Gonna ruin me.”

His teeth scrape against your skin, drawing a wanton moan from you. Your hands shift to his back, nails digging into his back as he continues to piston himself into you. 

His rhythm falters suddenly. When you follow his eyeline, you find Nick perched on the bed behind you. His hand is still pressing against the fabric of his trousers, not quite touching himself, but also not unaffected by what you’re doing. 

“Got curious, my love?” Jolly asks, sounding rather breathless already.

The low murmur of Nick’s voice flies right over your head, but can’t bring yourself to care much. A different set of fingers brushes against the side of your face, and you stretch your neck further to catch just a glimpse of Nick. 

You reach out for him, just managing to reach his thigh. He seems to understand what you want and scoots a little closer to the pair of you. Nick shifts your hand towards his crotch, allowing you to touch him properly. 

He sighs when you press against him, “Just looked so good together.” 

Nick helps you work your hand into his trousers. The angle isn’t ideal, and you struggle to find a good angle to move your hand along his length with the way you’re positioned. Even then, you think that he’s quite sizable. Your unsteady rhythm seems to be enough for him, though, as you hear a beautifully drawn out mess of gasps and moans from him. 

You feel yourself staggering closer and closer to your second climax of the night. It’s all so intense. You're constantly torn between them. The pleasure painted across either of their faces makes you even dizzier. 

“Getting close again, aren’t you?” Jolly asks, sounding as if he’s not far behind you. 

You nod, moaning out a yes when he hits a particularly good spot inside you. 

That seems to be enough to make him amp up his efforts even more. And a few harsh thrusts later, you feel the coil in your belly snap. You feel yourself cry out when it hits you, body growing tense with the overwhelming sensation that washes through you. Jolly finishes shortly after you, spilling into the condom. You’re still holding onto him, nails still digging into the skin of his back. 

You feel Nick scooting closer to you, until he kneels at your side. With the better angle, it only takes a few more strokes until he spills his release across the skin of your belly. They kiss as he finishes, and you can’t tear your eyes away from them. 

The aftermath is a blur. One of them wipes the residue of Nick’s release from your skin, before you’re cradled into someone’s arms. You find yourself settled between both of them. With Jolly’s arm wrapped around your middle, you feel incredibly safe and comforted.

Nick eyes you with an odd softness, and you feel as if there is something he wants to say. 

“We’ll talk in the morning.” is the last thing you hear from him before you drift off. 

You wake to an empty bed and for a brief moment you fear that they have left you just like that. Not that you would blame them. You hadn’t come here expecting more than a one-night stand. When you sit up, though, you find their clothes still placed on the armchairs. It’s not long before Jolly emerges from what you assume to be the bathroom. His chest is still bare, and his sweatpants hanging low on his hips. 

“Good morning, sleepy head.” he says with a soft smile, “Nick’s getting coffee. Do you want something?” 

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” you reply quickly, already surveying the room for your clothes. 

“I asked, because we’d like to have you here for a bit longer.” he sits at the foot of the bed, “If you want to go, that’s a different story. But you absolutely do not have to leave.”

Instead of arguing further, you tell him your go-to order. You watch as he relays your order to Nick.

While you wait for him to return, you step under the shower. Jolly hands you a shirt to wear so that you don’t have to squeeze back into your dress just yet. 

Nick returns a good twenty minutes later, arms loaded with three to-go cups and a bag of what you hope to be pastries. Seeing him looking much more comfortable in a hoodie and jeans makes you wish that you could see him like this all the time. 

You talk over breakfast and come to the conclusion that you all enjoyed this night too much for it to just be a one time thing. Numbers are exchanged and promises are made to call when you have the chance. You end up staying for a while longer, luxuriating in their presence while they pack their bags. 

The goodbye feels harder than it should have, seeing as you’ve only met them last night. Jolly hugs you tightly, pressing a soft little kiss to the corner of your lips. Nick’s embrace is just as tight, and you feel a pang of regret that you didn’t get to feel more of him. He kisses your cheek, sending a pleasant warmth through you. As you part, he promises that this won’t be the last time you see them, and that makes you feel a little bit better about leaving. 

You’re barely out of the hotel when your phone pings with a notification from Nick.

We’ll be out here again in a few weeks. Can’t wait to see you again. 

taglist:@deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

[dandelionpixels]

reader + what we do in the shadows household

(platonic/family)

ask: I’m desperately coping with the show ending, so do you suppose we could have some wwdits headcanons where the reader is a half-vampire and announces that they’re getting married?

- you’re probably pretty nervous to announce it, given the vamps aren’t known for being good with change. you dance around it for a while, hiding your engagement ring in your pocket and being paranoid about any love-life related questions.

- eventually you can feel yourself buckle under the stress, knowing you have to tell someone. it’s late when you knock on guillermo’s door, rushing inside the second he opens it.

“Hi? Hi! What’s going on, are you okay?”


You nod quickly, not knowing how to say it. Before you can chicken out, you pull the ring out of your pocket and slide it onto your finger. Biting your lip nervously, you extend your hand out. Guillermo has to physically cover his mouth to stop himself from letting out an excited squeak, but you can see his grin all over his face.

He grabs your hand, admiring the ring, “Oh my gosh, how long?”

Face splitting into a grin, you can feel yourself shaking the stress off your shoulders already. You’d been wanting to be excited with someone for so long. “Next month!”

His mouth drops as he looks up at you, “Have you told the others?”

Shaking your head slowly, you raise your hands into a prayer gesture, wincing slightly at it, “I was actually hoping you could do me a big favor and help out with that.”

- you guys spend the whole night on guillermo’s bed, sitting cross-legged trying to figure out the best way to launch it to the other members of the household.

- the next morning you both enter the kitchen exhausted, making nadja recoil in disgust, “Ew, why do you two look so… dead?” You both shoot her a look and she rolls her eyes, “You know what I mean.”

- it takes too long to gather everyone into the living room. every time you bring the last person in, the others have disappeared back into their rooms. and when you do get everyone sat down, laszlo won’t stop obsessing over the “sliding boxes” on the laptop. no matter how many times you explain what a slideshow is, he can’t grasp it.

The slideshow starts easy, with a few pictures of you and your partner early into dating. You explain who it is and how you guys met. Nandor isn’t paying attention, busy trying to untie his double-knotted boots. Nadja and Laszlo are on thin ice, only paying attention to giggle and point at every single transition in the slideshow. Colin is paying far too much attention, trying to give you tips on how to improve your ‘slideshow game’ while you do your best to ignore him.

Nevertheless, Guillermo shoots you a thumbs up and you keep going. The next pictures are more recent, various adventures the two of you had gone on together. You get to the second to last slide, a picture taken of both of you, your partner’s hand behind their back. You glance up to see that no one has picked up any hints you were putting down. Looks like a soft-launch is off the table.

Clicking through to the last slide, you reveal the ring on your other hand, waving it in front of everyone to get their attention. 


“I’m getting married!”

Laszlo reacts first, standing up and stomping his foot, “Absolutely not! I will not have you sold off without me knowing about it, unless we are in dire need of livestock.”

You cock your head in equal parts confusion and annoyance. Next to him, Nadja stands up slower, hands outstretched, “Laszlo, you dumbass! As usual, you’ve got it all wrong, they’re getting married like idiots because they want too.” It’s oddly tender, coming from her, and you can feel your eyes tearing up.

She grabs your hands, eyes watering, “I’ve always wanted to be a plant woman.”

Glancing behind her, you see Guillermo mouth ‘flower girl’ and mime throwing petals. Smiling, you squeeze her hands, “You will absolutely be our plant woman, I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Laszlo sticks out a hand, weirdly formal. You drop Nadja’s hands to cautiously shake his. He nods sharply, “Although I only believe in the marriage between me and my darling wife, I truly hope you beat the odds. Or more likely, give an honorable attempt at beating the odds.” Smiling, you can sense the genuine congratulations behind his mildly judgmental words.

Colin rises from the couch, corners of his mouth ever so slightly upturned, “This is very good, I’ve always wanted to bake a wedding cake.” You look at him, letting out a slight laugh of disbelief, “Colin, did you say you’re happy for me?” He stares back, “I don’t think so, but if that’s what you heard, I’ll let it slide.” You can’t help but shoot Guillermo a surprised look, and then nod quickly to Colin, “It’s…appreciated? I hope you don’t take it personally that I can’t allow you to make a toast at the wedding.”

He nods, “I understand, but it’s actually quite interesting how toasts came to be, especially in the context of-,”

Nandor interrupts, picking a perfect time to pitch in, “You’re- really getting married?” He gestures between Nadja and Laszlo, “Like… them?” He’s clearly grossed out, but makes a clear effort to try and hide it. The effort is appreciated and you nod, “Not exactly like them, I hope.” You make an apologetic glance in their direction, “No offense. But yeah, I’m getting married for real.”

He looks dramatically towards Guillermo, “Must everyone flaunt their happiness in my face?” Guillermo rolls his eyes, “Can you please just be supportive?”

Knowing Nandor’s delicate feelings about weddings and change and love, you sit down next to him on the couch, “Hey.”

He pretends not to hear you, pouting in defiance. You take a breath, smiling despite yourself, “Nandor, I wanted to ask you something. It’s really important, please listen.” You see him perk up slightly, still looking down. Putting a hand on his shoulder, you let out a resigned breath, “Would you like to write a speech for my wedding?”

Spinning around to face you, he stifles a smile, “A speech?” You nod and he lets a grin force it’s way onto his face as he gives you an energetic yet slightly awkward side hug, “Yes! And it’ll be the best speech I’ve ever written. Long, and- and with a lot of words.”

You lean over to whisper to Guillermo, “Will you please proofread that speech?” He nods worriedly, keeping an eye on Nandor as the vampire gestures widely.

Nadja and Laszlo push you to the side, sitting on the couch beside you. Guillermo looks down the couch at everyone, “Guys, let’s be as helpful as possible, okay? Weddings take a lot of planning, even in the last month.”


Everyone nods eagerly, and you feel your chest go warm. Though sometimes clumsy and emotionally immature, hearing everyone excitedly discuss absolutely ridiculous wedding ideas is somehow the sweetest gesture ever. Nadja is talking to Guillermo about finding ‘some of those dancing shirtless people’ for a party, Laszlo is concerningly preoccupied with a topiary sculpture to commemorate your day, Nandor is reciting speech ideas out loud, and Colin is pretending not to look up cake recipes on the laptop.

- the actual wedding goes beyond fantastic. nadja is a lovely flower girl, even with doll nadja sitting in the flower petal basket. nandor’s speech is surprisingly heartfelt, even more so when guillermo admits he didn’t help all that much. laszlo insists he’s going to walk you down the aisle, whether you like it or not. colin is trying very hard to walk the line of making the full vampires chill out without putting them to sleep. it’s his idea of a wedding gift. guillermo also makes sure they don’t wreck too much havoc, and that they confuse your older relatives as little as possible.

[08melancholie]

Light Banter. — Micah/Reader

tags: Grief/Mourning, Loss, Death, Mistakes, Soft Micah Bell, Crying, Men Crying, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt, Emotional Hurt, Murder, Brutal Murder, no comfort, Minimal fluff, Trauma, Psychological Trauma, Not Proofread, Not Beta Read, no beta we die like micah bell, and reader lol

summary: The things Micah would do to go back in time and listen to Dutch, the things he'd said about you. Just for once, to rewrite this passage in his life. But that's an ending he may never face; so he must learn to cope with his mistake—both of your mistakes, and must do so all alone.

a/n: so ummmm ive been thinking abt my own fic for the entire two days ive been writing it LIKE i was in class imagining one of the scenes. micah bell angst LETS GOOOOO !!!!

words: 3,648 | AO3 LINK

Dutch is many things; controlling, manipulative, power-hungry—but somehow never wrong. And Micah had to learn that the hard way.

How he said the two of you were a match made in hell—he was right there. When he said you were both the biggest pains in his arse, always causing trouble wherever you went; when he had to put you both on camp-arrest, an attempt at lecturing you to not go into random bars and start fights; when he'd refuse to send you on jobs together, because he knew the outcome every time.

And you both should have listened, for once.

Another day brings you more trouble to stir. Micah and yourself have been out all day—early morning to late afternoon. Few folks were robbed; few non-compliant killed. It was a bit ruthless and brutal—but you were outlaws, so who cares?

Well, Dutch cared. Too much, in your opinion.

Always had his nose in your business, finding ways to scold you and Micah for any minuscule mission that ended in bloodshed or law. But that was your nature! And per his own word, you can't fight your nature—and so you won't.

Now, was that worth being sat in his tent, talked down to for hours? Well, yes. You either zoned out every time, or were struggling to hold in your chuckles and chortles with Micah; always worsening your situation.

Like today.

"You two are just.. unbelievable!" Dutch is scolding you like two children whom were just caught stealing candy from the corner store. He made you sit down on his cot before he started tearing into you both for another bar fight two towns over—initiated by Micah this time. "I sometimes just want to keep you both in camp, doing chores—because this isn't the way to go about." He adds, and it falls on deaf ears as you space out wherever while Micah just.. sits there, staring at him as if he's processing the words coming out of his mouth, when he in fact isn't. Dutch sees this and is simply fed up. "You know what? We're not gonna continue like this."

His next words get your attention instantly.

"I'm separating you two." Your eyes dart up to meet Dutch's dark ones, glistening with distaste. "No more sharing a tent; no more doing jobs together; hell, if you make me go that far, I'll prohibit you two speaking to each other." He barks, and you feel your heart drop to your feet.

"The fuck?" Dutch shoots you a glare at the vulgar reply and raised tone. "You can't do that, Dutch." You protest, standing up off the cot. Micah's head shoots up to look at Dutch, just as surprised and protesting.

He stands firmly above the two of you, looking and talking down on both. "I can do as I please," He stands back to his desk, where he previously was. "already had Charles start to move your—" He gestures to you. "—things out into a different tent at the other side of camp."

Your jaw goes slack and you feel like you have to pick it off the floor. "That.. Dutch! You can't be serious, that's just plain cruel!" You protest, clearly against the entire idea. But, everyone knows who has the last word; it's the reason Micah hasn't talked all night, and the reason he's been watching you, bewildered at how you're protesting to Dutch's word so confidently.

"I am not changing my mind; get out of my tent, both of you." He says firmly, and you have to be dragged out by Micah as to not pounce on Dutch right then and there.

Micah grabs you and—reluctantly, because he'd love to see you ravage the bastard like a wolf—leads you out of the tent, sighing after you exit and shut the flaps behind yourselves. "As much as I'd love to see it, I can't have 'ya killin' Dutch."

It felt much more real when you've left the tent.

Your eyes snap over to where you shared tent would be; split into two, like they were before you 'moved in' together. "This is bullshit.. he can't just segregate us!" You turn to Micah, who looks just as upset.

"I hear 'ya," He places his hands on his hips, looking at the tent as well. "but.. we both know there's nothing we can do." The truth in his words is painful, and you almost don't want to believe it. "Let me help get yer stuff in." He offers, and you nod with a small frown.

Micah helped you get your stuff across camp, the choice of being moved surprising most onlookers who caught a glimpse of what was going on. You just felt worse; even they didn't understand the choice Dutch made. You were reluctant on sorting the last item in its original place, slowly placing your last book into a drawer. "I.. I won't be used to this—I can't do this, Micah." You turn to face him, looking up with a quivering frown.

Micah feels for you. He doesn't even know if he'll be able to process this. He got used to having you in the tent; reading on your shared bedroll before he'd lay himself down, and you'd start reading aloud to him; early mornings where you'd slip out before him—if he managed to get some shuteye, ever—and greet him with coffee; pouncing on him whenever there was a job the two of you could do together. He'll miss it all. "C'mere, I know.." His arms extend to you, and you waste no time in pressing yourself up to him, wrapping your arms around his torso.

You felt safe there—and you know it sounds foolish; safe in the arms of a bloodthirsty, ruthless killer? Well, that was the honest truth. Before you were this close and started sharing bodily contact every day, his hugs—because rare—always felt much more meaningful and real. Your face buries itself in his chest, hands hugging him from under his arms and resting on his back, where his hands find your sides and squeeze reassuringly. You can't tell if he's trying to reassure you or himself right now. "Why would Dutch do this to us?" You huff into his coat.

He looks down at the top of your head. "Beats me, darlin'. I can't put my finger on it, either." He shifts one hand to your back and traces your spine slowly. "But it's damn unfair, that's one thing."

You nod against him in agreement, then pull away slightly, to be able to look up at him. "I think that we should part right—there's an O'Driscoll camp out west, close enough to be a problem." You smirk up at him, and he returns it.

"Oh, yeah? Is there, now?" He releases his hold on you, letting you take a step back. "Well, what're we waiting on? Don't want Dutchy stoppin' us here, do we?" He brings your smile back to your face, and you instantly make a b-line for your horses, mounting up and not caring about the approaching Hosea, trying to stop you.

The ride to this camp was pretty quick, seeing as the both of you were overly excited about it. You were going to end this right, have fun and then probably sneak off to do jobs and have one of the girls cover for you, like they have before when you got 'grounded' by Dutch a few months back. "And there it is," You point out the small outpost-looking area ahead, hitching your horse close-by, but not too close either. "In all her O'Driscoll glory."

"She looks promisin'," Micah jumps off of his horse, following your lead as you take coverage behind a nearby boulder. "tell me how we're doing this, partner." He looks over to you, ready for your command.

Now, whereas you always usually had a plan on how to do things, you just wanted to stress-relieve this time. And so, you did exactly that. "The plan is, you shoot everyone but me and yourself." You give a brief chuckle before drawing your guns. "I just need to relieve some of these emotions, and killin' off O'Driscoll scum will do it perfectly for me." You add.

Micah's smile turns into that devilish grin you love; taking his DAs out swiftly. "Oh, you've got it, girl." He laughs wickedly—oh, how you love that sound. You nod and cock your weapons, rising from your spot.

The entire area smells of blood and gunpowder, a scent you've gotten much more used to since meeting Micah and going on blood-thirsty missions with him. Bodies are scattered all around; faces with bullet holes in them, slit necks and penetrated chests. You and Micah were stood in one of the cabins there, searching through the many drawers, cabinets and closets inside the room. "Damn, these bastards were poor as dirt." You lean on the table behind Micah, on the opposite side as you watch him search through a closet, his back turned to you.

"I found a few pocket watches, but that's about it." You add.

"Hm, well 'least we got something, wouldn't dream of getting back to Dutch with noth—"

His sentence is interrupted by a horrifying squelching sound. Your breath hitches, nearly just enough to silence you. "Mic.. ah—" Your words are knocked out of your mouth by the sharp pain in your waist, and the hand on your mouth.

Micah turns around immediately, met by the traumatising sight of a knife in your side, a barely alive O'Driscoll's hands on you as he runs the knife deeper, slowly and excruciatingly painfully. "What the—" He draws his revolvers, pointing them at the man who tuts at him like at a bad dog.

"Don't do that, Micah." You let out a breathless gasp when the man twists the knife inside you, your hands shakily trying to push him off. You're gasping into the hand on your mouth, backing up into him as your eyes water. You never had a bad pain tolerance; it was more the look on Micah's face at the predicament you both got yourselves into now that had you wanting to cry. "You killed my brothers, 'ya rat."

Micah's unsure in what he's supposed to do. He grips his guns tightly, staring wide-eyed at the sight before him as he scrambles for any way to stop your pain, watching you squirm for release. "Let her go, she ain't done nothing."

The man just laughs and gives another twist of his hand and knife in your side that has you gritting your teeth together. "She slit one of 'em's throats. Wild little thing, is she?" His breath is hitting your neck as he speaks, clasping his hand down harder on your mouth. His knife handle is almost soaked, red staining your light blue shirt and trickling down to your jeans. Just as he stops twisting it, he pulls it out. You squeak out in pain, shutting your eyes closed.

Micah practically growls, watching the man pull the knife out and press the soaking red blade to your throat. "Please—don't." He's desperate, barely able to look at you fighting to stay standing, gripping onto the mans' forearm for dear life. Dear life, indeed.

"Wow," The O'Driscoll laughs, pressing the blade in harder. "beg me some more, Micah Bell. Never thought you was that kinda person." Micah is fighting between anger and worry; wanting to rip the man's head off while watching you squirm, losing more and more blood by the second.

His blood runs cold when a dead silence fills the room and you still up—the knife painting your neck red.

"No!—" He shoots the man dead on the spot, a headshot right into the forehead. He drops his guns and kneels to you, making you sit up and lean on the wall. "Damn it! No, no—don't do this to me, girl.." He unbuttons his undershirt and rips a piece up out of it, trying to hold it up to your neck in an attempt at saving some blood loss. "Come on, you can't do this to me—this is not how we said we was parting, sweetheart," He holds your hand up to your neck, your eyes rolling back as you cough and clench your side. "Please, please don't."

As an outlaw, this was actually how you always envisioned your demise. But, you never thought it'd be this brutal—or that Micah would be forced to watch. "Micah—" You attempt to speak, and it sounds terrifying; your voice isn't you, it doesn't sound like you.

"Don't talk, baby. I'mma.. I'll get'chu home.." You can't really tell if he's trying to convince himself or you that there's a possibility of redemption here, the horrifying look in his eyes as your blood paints the floor and himself, the hand holding yours over your neck getting soaked and trickling down his whole arm. He's getting just as bloody as you, and yet he still thinks there's a way to save this. "It's not too deep.. I can still get 'ya home.." He's huffing and out of breath, as if he just ran a marathon.

You use the hand on your hip to shakily touch his shoulder, removing it from the first knife wound. "No—.." You mumble breathlessly, shaking your head at him. "Stay.. while I go." You manage out, blood leaking down your front from between yours and Micah's fingers.

"No, please—please let me help 'ya. Don't do this to me." He's pleading with you, reaching his free hand to hold onto your side. "Please." He's never experienced loss like this; for a man that killed and saw death since he was a young boy, he sure wasn't prepared.

"Hug me."

"Y/N, don't."

"Hug. Me."

"I love you, darlin'. Why won't you let me help you?"

"Please, Micah. Hug me, hold me in my last moments."

His hands release your wounds. One goes to the back of your head, leaning you into his chest as the other runs through your hair. "I never wanted this, baby. I'm so fucking sorry." He's whispering into your ear while running his bloody hands through your hair, pressing you into himself. This is how you always wanted to die; in the hands of your favourite person, getting to hold them and breathe in their scent, making sure they're the last memory you have despite the way you'd die.

You start to feel woozy; dizzy. You feel your breaths leaving your lungs, your life leaving your body. This, was something no amount of preparation could calm you. "I'm.. scared." You manage out, holding onto his shoulders with a surprising amount of strength.

"Don't be, baby. You'll feel better." He hums, his voice cracking. "And I'll see you there, too. I'll be there, at some point." He whispers, pulling you away briefly to press a kiss to your forehead, wiping some blood off of your neck before leaning you back into him. "I'mma bury you at the nicest spot you'd have ever seen. I'll visit you every day, babygirl. I know you love tulips; how 'bout I plant some there? You'll love that, won't you?" He rambles into your hair.

A haunting silence. Your breaths slow down and hands stop gripping his shirt, and you go limp on top of him. That's what truly breaks him as his eyes water, maybe for the first time in multiple decades. "Oh, baby. I'll make sure you have the prettiest little spot.. with the prettiest little flowers." His tears stream down to your face as he pulls you away to look at you; his beautiful, strong girl.

"Me an' Charles'll bury you, give you the best spot in the entire damn country. I'm so goddamn sorry."

After a moment of silence, he got up and grabbed his guns, holstering them before gently picking you up. He got you up on his horse, calling your own to follow him as he left the massacred O'Driscoll camp behind—not before setting a fire to the cabin in which the man who killed you laid. Just in case.

He held you against him the entire ride back to camp which felt much longer without your little quips and stories, uncaring of how stained his clothes were from your blood. He occasionally leaned down to kiss the top of your head, fastening you against him.

Getting into camp was probably the most terrifying part. He hitched up and held you against him as he stood at the entrance of the campsite, feeling shellshocked. He looked down at your unmoving body, his eyes narrowing to your much more peaceful face.

"Oh, Micah."

His head perks up to the sight of Hosea, standing up from the campfire and slowly walking over, his eyes wide and one hand covering his mouth. "Micah.. Micah, how.?" Hosea was at a loss for words; hell, he assumed you invincible from how many close calls he had to watch you suffer through, so seeing you unmoving in Micah's arms was a terrifying sight. "No—you don't have to say anything. I'll.. get Charles—Charles!" He turns and yells for the other man, as Micah looks back down to you, waiting on Charles.

He soon shows up and instantly frowns, looking down at your body. He looks up to Micah after a moment of silence.

"You know where you want to bury her?"

It was a nice little hill, always painted in flowers during the spring. There was a lake nearby—you always loved sneaking off and skinny-dipping with him, uncaring of Dutch's lecture the next day when you'd be too tired to work. You liked smelling things, too; from flowers to Pearson's meals to Micah himself. You constantly got up into his chest and took in his scent when he hugged you—or when you involuntarily tacked him into an embrace. He'll miss your little surprise attacks on him. He hopes that the flowers will be enough to smell for you.

"Do you want a moment before we lower her in?"

Charles' voice gets Micah out of his zone, and he looks at the man. "Thank you.." He grumbles and Charles nods, walking off a few feet to give Micah his well-deserved privacy.

Micah takes a seat down next to your lifeless body, now cleaned up and dressed in your favourite outfit. You looked mostly like yourself—if you ignore the paleness of your skin and neck wound openly displayed, unable to be hid behind your shirt collar. He takes you in for one final hug, breathing in your scent, like you would with him. It pained him that you smelled like gunpowder and blood in your last moments, but at least the perfume Karen offered to put on you made a small difference. He embraces you for a long time, enough for Charles to come back and interrupt, asking Micah if it'd be okay now. And Micah knew you needed peace; so he agreed.

His eyes could barely stay opened as Charles shuffled dirt over your body, losing the sight of you slowly. He bit his lip, watching the last of your face get lost in the surrounding dirt. His eyes watered briefly, but he couldn't let himself cry in front of Charles, so he shoved it down.

Charles tapped the back of the shovel over the dirt pouch, flattening it out before taking a step back. "There," He turns to Micah briefly. "I'll leave 'ya to.. process it. Seems you still need to." He hums before walking away, leaving Micah holding back tears before your grave.

Despite never being a religious man, he hoped that an ending was real and that you'd gotten your peace, even in your brutal suffering.

People in camp mourned you and visited your grave for a few weeks before most stopped and moved on. But Micah couldn't.

He was there every day—early morning to late evening, if not downright sleeping at your burial. He had issues with insomnia before, and you always made it easier to fall into the slumber he always hoped for. Sleeping next to your grave hasn't helped too much, but he feels better; not wanting you to rest alone, by your wish you vocalised when Dutch wanted to split your tent apart. Your grave was cared for immensely, and there was barely any space around it from the overwhelming amount of flowers Micah had either bought or planted himself. He had one of the girls teach him how, and made sure to include dozens of tulips. He knew what you liked.

"You've been gone three and a half months, baby. I still bring 'ya tulips.. but I'm not sure if you're getting tired of them." He spoke to your gravestone a lot; he missed your voice immensely, now regretting the few times he'd space out while you yapped his ear off about some random topic. "I planted a few roses, I know you like 'em too."

"Hope you can see and hear me, darlin'. Did you know I got your name into my other barrel, huh?" He takes his right revolver out, tracing his fingers over the initials he carved into the guns' barrel. "Yeah... it's real nice, huh?" He holstered the weapon again, looking down at you under the dirt patch for a moment before looking up at the sky. Somehow, it always looked the prettiest when he'd visit you.

"That's you, ain't it, sweetheart?"

The sky was a mix of neon oranges and pinks, slowly fading into light, morning blues as the sun made its way up the horizon. The clouds were nowhere to be found, letting the sun pass into another day. Another day he spent with you.

"Hi to you too, my sweet girl."

Kudos on AO3 very appreciated! Finally finished this fic dear God. I want this man so bad its unreal chat.

[lucy90712]

Can you do a Jude Bellingham imagine where his girlfriend is very burnt out from school. They do long distance so she tries to get everything done so she can go spend time with him & watch him play. One day when she lands to watch him play against Barcelona he finds her stress crying in the room alone because she tries to be there for everyone around her but it’s costing her to stress out about getting things in on time. Somehow Jude calms her & they enjoy their day before he plays against Barcelona.

Thank you

-a very stressed & burnt out student

A/n: this is me right now too, I hope things get easier for you soon

WC: 2.0k The last few weeks maybe even months have been so stressful. Ever since I went back to university I have done nothing but go to classes and study. I know it's my final year but I didn't think it would be this difficult but there is just so much to do between assignments for classes and preparations for my dissertation. For the first few weeks I feel like I was coping pretty well but recently it's all just hit me like a truck and now I feel like I'm drowning in books and being suffocated by deadlines. 

To make it all 100 times worse where I chose to go to uni is away from my family and very far from my boyfriend. Don't get me wrong I love it here but at times like this I just wish that I had someone here to tell me it's all going to be ok. I've been really missing not just my family but my boyfriend Jude as well, I haven't seen Jude since before I came back to uni which was at the end of august and it's been killing me. I also haven't been able to talk to him as much as I would like as I've been really busy and he's been busy too with his move to Real Madrid and having to get used to living and playing over there. 

These last few months have been hard on our relationship, even though we've been long distance for a few years now we have never gone this long without seeing each other and the fact that we haven't talked as much hasn't helped. Finally we are going to see each other though as I'm flying over to see him play and just to spend a few days with him which has got me through the last few days. In order to be able to go and see Jude I have been working extra hard to get my work done as I want to actually spend time with him which I can't do if I have assignments to do but it's been difficult. All week I've only left my apartment to go to classes and I've pulled far too many all nighters but I've got quite a lot done so I guess it's somewhat worth it although I still have some things to do. 

I had an alarm set to wake me up before my flight but it wasn't needed as I'd been awake all night packing and doing uni work. The worst part was despite all my hard work I had to pack a few of my textbooks and my laptop as I didn't manage to finish everything in time. I tried to put that behind me though as I got to the airport because I still want to enjoy my time with Jude and if I'm stressed and feeling down then I'm not going to make the most of the time which I really do want to do. Jude has been telling me all week how much he's been looking forward to today he promised me that we was going to get up early to pick me up from the airport before he has to go to training which is how I know he's serious as he hates getting up in the morning. 

~~~~~~~~~~

After a few hours in the air I landed on Spanish soil and somehow I immediately felt a bit more relaxed as I knew it was only a matter of time until I would be in Jude's arms which is exactly what I need. As I got off the plane I text Jude to let him know I had landed which he answered right away telling me he was already waiting for me in the arrivals lounge with a disguise on so he didn't get recognised. Knowing he was waiting for me made me walk a bit quicker to collect my bag and once it was in sight I grabbed it and ran towards where Jude would be waiting for me. 

It took me a minute to find Jude but eventually I saw him stood with a hat and sunglasses on which didn't offer much of a disguise but he wasn't surrounded by people so clearly it does something. Once he saw me coming he swiftly made his way over until he was close enough to pick me up and nearly kill me with how tightly he held me. It felt so good to be in his arms again and smell his cologne it made me feel like I was home again which is exactly what I've been needing. Jude held onto me for a good while before he took my bag in one hand and my hand in the other leading me out to his car which was parked outside. Once we got in the car Jude leaned straight over the centre console and smashed his lips onto mine which led to us making out for a bit too long so we had to rush back to Jude's place on he could drop me off before going to his training session. 

Once Jude had left I went and made myself some breakfast as I didn't have time to eat before I left and I had to make myself a cup of tea because despite being in Spain I'm still British and we can't go a day without a cup of tea. Jude knows me well enough that he had brought a new pack of my favourite tea and put it on a shelf he knows I can reach along with a mug which he had clearly just brought for me. I enjoyed my cup of tea before I took my bag upstairs to go and unpack. To my surprise the room was quite clean and Jude had cleaned out one of his draws for me, well not quite there was a few hoodies and t shirts in there still but he left me a note telling me I can wear them so they are mine now. Of course I had to put a hoodie on before starting to unpack all of my stuff. 

I unpacked most of my stuff pretty quickly but then I got to the bottom of my suitcase and saw just how many text books and folders I had to pack. Seeing it made the realisation hit me that I still have so much work to do and once again all of the stresses started weighing down on me like it was physically crushing me. All week I've been so deep into work mode I bottled up all my emotions but now they are all coming out at once and for some reason I can't stop crying. It's like all of the pressure and stress has finally reached the surface and the mental breakdown all my friends warned was coming has finally arrived. I've never felt so overwhelmed in my life and I just don't know how to cope all I do know is that I need to get myself together before Jude gets back as I don't want to worry him plus I want to enjoy our time together. 

My attempts to calm myself down didn't go well if anything I just got more overwhelmed and cried more. I was so in my own world that I completely lost track of time so when I heard the front door close and Jude call my name I panicked. As his footsteps got closer to the bedroom I desperately tried to wipe the tears from my face but then I realised my eyes would still be all red so I just put the hood on the hoodie up to try and cover my face.

"Hi darling do you need any help unpacking?" Jude asked a he walked in 

"N-no I'm f-fine" I sniffled

"Babe what's wrong?" He asked clearly concerned 

"Nothing" I said 

"I know you're lying to me I can hear you sniffling what's made you so upset you know you can tell me anything" he said trying to make me open up

"I'm sorry I'm just stressed I've got so much work to do for uni I worked so hard all week so we could actually spend some time together but I couldn't finish everything and now I have loads of texts books in my suitcase and I'm just feeling a bit overwhelmed I'm really sorry I'm ruining our time together" I rambled 

"Hey hey slow down it's ok there's no need to be sorry it's ok tell me exactly what's going on and we can fix it together" Jude comforted 

"I still have two assignments I need to finish before the end of the week and I'm so exhausted from pulling so many all nighters but I just want to actually spend some time with you because I've really missed you" I said a bit more calmly this time 

"Ok we can work this out I know you're tired but how about I help you finish those assignments then we can just have a relaxing evening together get some sleep and be ready to do something together tomorrow" Jude suggested 

"That sounds good" I said 

Jude then picked me up and sat me on his bed before grabbing my laptop and books for me. I explained to him what I needed to do and then we go to work together. One of my assignments I just needed to reread so Jude did that for me to make sure there were no mistakes then I just needed to finish one other assignment and then do the same. Jude was so helpful and read the parts of my textbooks I needed to me while I typed and he let me talk through my ideas with him even though he doesn't understand what I'm studying. In just over and hour we were done and I instantly felt so much better and when Jude started giving me kisses I felt even better. 

 Being the amazing boyfriend that he is Jude got some chocolate from downstairs for me to eat while he ran a bath for the both of us to share. It was only when Jude came to ask me which bubble bath I prefer that I realised just how much he had brought for my visit. He doesn’t like to take baths so he wouldn’t have bubble bath just lying around and the chocolate I was eating was my favourite one so he must’ve got that especially for me as well. Jude is such a sweet boyfriend all the time but little things like this just make me realise how truly perfect he is and it makes me so grateful that I ended up with Jude as I know he truly cares for me. 

Once the bath was ready Jude helped me get in then he got in himself and sat behind me letting me rest my back against his chest. The entire atmosphere was so relaxing which helped me finally let go of all the stress and anxiety that has been fuelling me for the last few weeks. Nothing needed to be said either both of us were more than content just sitting there in silence as Jude’s fingers played with the rings on my hand especially the promise ring which he gave me last Valentine’s Day which I think is my favourite piece of jewellery I own. After a while of just relaxing Jude started to wash my body for me which meant I didn’t have to move at all as his hands gently rubbed over my skin. 

Once the both of us were clean we got out the bath and Jude gave me some of his clothes for me to put on which I very happily did. He then picked me up and carried me downstairs to the sofa where he piled blankets on top of me before sitting down and spreading them out properly. All of the sudden I felt the tiredness take over so I snuggled up to Jude and just let my eyes close and sleep consume me. Just as I was drifting off I felt Jude kiss the top of my head and whisper I love you which put a smile on my face just as I went into a dreamland. 

[hellfirecvnt]

Subordinate (Part 1)

Summary: North Jackson has a new principal and your coworkers are not coping well. XOXO.

Warnings: Dastardly bisexual man in a loud suit getting absolutely babygirled. JK. This chapter has cheating, but it's not Y/N cheating on anyone and it's not Lee cheating on anyone. It's angsty. This is an angsty series, but it'll also be a little silly and super sexy.

Notes: Bitch, you already know what the fuck it is. Also, I usually try to work around the cheating bc I've seen a few people find it icky and I respect that, however me? I love a lil fake affair. Being chosen over his own wife? Absolutely. Do I have low self-esteem?... Anyways...

Bright and early Monday morning, Neal Gamby and Lee Russell are called to a meeting determining the new principal of North Jackson High School. The two men fire jabs back and forth at each other, cutting each other down and insisting they are the newly appointed principal.

"Thank you for joining us, gentlemen." Super Intendant Haas extends a hand to each of them, greeting them and welcoming them to the unoccupied principal's office for the meeting. "As you know, North Jackson High needs a principal." Haas's words kept both men at the edge of their seats, dying to know which of them was more qualified.

"Sir, it's been-" Gamby, prematurely starting an acceptance speech is promptly cut off.

"Mr. Gamby, Mr. Russell, this is Dr. Y/L/N." Super Intendant Haas introduces you as you round the corner to meet your two new underlings.

"A pleasure to meet you both!" You chime, shaking their hands, noticing the shock in their stunned faces. You're much younger than the usual principal select, and much younger than either of them.

"The Hell's the matter with you two?" Haas asks, sharply.

"Don't worry sir, I tend to have this effect on men. I leave 'em speechless." You wink. One certain glance grants them the knowledge that you already know what you're up against. What you don't know, is that each man is stunned silent for a different reason.

Gamby is blindsided by the results after being far too certain that the title was his. After all, he did tell his whole family he was the principal. Lee is just mesmerized. Neal excuses himself to have a nauseous panic attack in the restrooms while Lee and Haas show you around the school. As you reach each wing of the large building, Mr. Russell excitedly drones on about the history and lifestyle of the average North Jackson staff and students.

Lee's charming, if not just a bit of a try-hard, but you can appreciate that.

"Mr. Russell, Dr. Y/L/N," Haas bids you both farewell and heads out the door, leaving your new school in your hands.

"Well then, let's get to it, Mr. Russell." You beam before strutting off to your new office. Lee's attention lingers for a moment on your swaying hips as you pace away, but he quickly blinks the gaze away.

You spend the day getting to know each teacher and faculty member. Your favorite is Ms. Smith. She's awkward and nervous and you understand her somehow. She's seemingly always in tow as you make your rounds around the school today.

Gamby sequesters all the teachers into the lounge for a secret meeting. They all sit confused until Neal bursts out that Dr. Y/L/N has got to go. He offers a petition for everyone to sign to kick you to the curb, but no one will sign it.

"I don't want my name on that," says one teacher.

"Yeah, I like Dr. Y/L/N," says another.

Lee watches Neal's mutiny fizzle to nothing, laughing at him and stomping out his plan to overthrow. He derails Gamby's meeting and dismisses the teachers, seeming to have taken your side at this moment. Livid with no other options, Gamby takes his complaint to the school board. It's not until after that, that Lee comes to him and proposes they join forces to take a bitch like you down.

As the clock strikes 3:30 PM, dismissing the school for the busses, you sit back happily at your new desk. A new beginning for you and yours. It's been a long time coming.

The next day, it's as if you've fallen right into routine. You've never felt more at home in a community. Your coworkers are kind and attentive, it's all you could ever ask for. You happily make your rounds in your business casual pantsuit, strutting up and down the halls dominantly. The teachers appreciate how involved you are. Around every corner, just as you pass, a pair of hazel eyes track your every move for most of the morning.

Out in a wooded area past the field, Neal and Lee gather to conspire against you.

"God damn it, is it 7:45? Because my watch says 7:51 to me," Gamby stands from the rock he was perched on, waiting for Russell.

"Bitch needed a coffee," he lies. He was lingering behind to catch a few more glimpses of you. Of course you are their enemy, they have to be rid of you, but... Look at you. What's a man supposed to do? Neal further nags Lee about his tardiness and Lee pops off. After their little discourse, Russell reveals a binder stuffed to the brim with information about the new principal, you.

"Here take this, it's all the information I have on Dr. Y/L/N." He lists off the various kinds of documents he's ascertained.

"Did you make this yourself?" Gamby asks, a little disgusted, but also intrigued.

"Of fucking course I did. I have one on everyone in this school!"

"You better not have one on me," Neal grumbles, skimming the binder impossibly fast and passing it back to Lee. "Alright, I've memorized all the important information. Destroy it."

"What?" Lee looks fed up.

"I have a photographic memory."

"Yeah? Did you photographic memory the part where she fired every Vice Principal she's ever worked with?" Lee shifts his weight sassily to his right hip.

"Wait, where was that?" Gamby's face shifts to one of panic.

"Page one." The two men study the binder, learning more and more about you. You're an artist and you enjoy karaoke on the weekends. You smoke weed and you're known to partake in some social drinking every now and then. Then Lee's face flattens as he reads a fact about you that disappointed him the first time around too. You're married, and you have been for seven years.

"She's married?" Gamby arches a brow.

"Yeah, for a while, I guess. She uses her maiden name on her doctorate, though." Lee points to the paper.

"Average beta male, I'm guessing." Gamby shakes his head. "They'll never last."

"Gamby, they've been together for like seven or eight years." Lee rolls his eyes, frustrated by Neal's ignorance.

"So? Gale divorced me after 10 years. Christine left you after 20-"

"Okay, shut the fuck up, god damn it." He waves his hands in front of Gamby's face dismissively. "I don't wanna talk about that. This is what we need to be talking about." He points to the line containing the unfortunate demise of her past VP's employment agreement.

"You think she's gonna fire us?" Neal swallows the small lump in his throat.

"Why the fuck wouldn't she?" He taps his finger on the binder a few times before shoving it into Neal's chest. Sure, Lee may be taken by your beauty, but you're an obstacle for him first and foremost.

"Well, what do we do?" Mr. Gamby relaxes his shoulders.

"We need to get rid of the bitch. Pronto." Lee snatches his binder back, subconsciously a little protective of this Bible of you.

When the men return inside, Ms. Smith hastily scurries up to Mr. Gamby and advises him that you're waiting for him in your office. Lee and Neal look at each other, confused, before he makes his way to you. A gentle knock on the door announces his presence.

"Come in," you chirp, inviting your underling into your decorated office. You're really making it your own, decking the walls with photos of you and your husband with your pets. Gamby glances at the photos, noticing your big photographed smile next to your husband's blank face. He almost chuckles, having called it that your husband felt less than you. It's written all over his face. "Have a seat, Mr. Gamby."

Neal hesitantly takes a seat across from you, staring defiantly into your face. The room feels tense, but your eye contact is unwavering, and your smile remains soft and present despite your obvious disapproval of whatever you've called him in for.

"Mr. Gamby, someone's put in a complaint against me." You deliver this line like you're dishing to an old friend.

"That's... Strange. I wonder who would do that."

"Well, it says her 'Dr. Y/L/N is an unfit replacement for Mr. Wells. She is too young and inexperienced. Immediate termination is mandatory.'" You lie the small piece of paper containing the statement on the desk.

"That's, wow, that's something. Does it... Say who would send such a thing?" Neal's eyes glance everywhere, but at you.

"It does." He flinches as you say it. "Mr. Gamby, do you think my age stops me from running the school as well as you?"

"Well, it's just that the teachers-"

"What teachers? Names, Neal." You snap your fingers a few times. Rushing him only makes him trip over his words worse. He can't seem to piece together a lie. "Mr. Gamby, I'm not going anywhere. My age, my clothes, my car, none of it defines my ability to run this school. Now you can be on my team, or you can get your desk cleaned out. Your choice. Let's do better." You stand from your desk and gracefully make your way to the door where you hold it open, dismissing your subordinate.

Angry, one-upped, and tail tucked, Neal Gamby walks out of your office with a new understanding of his adversary. He schedules for Lee to meet him by the train tracks, another place the two come to meet off school grounds.

"I told your stupid ass not to send in that fucking complaint, let alone sign it," Lee sighs, utterly baffled by Neal's incompetence.

"Well, fuck!" Gamby tosses his arms up. "Now she knows I'm against her. She's gonna make my life a living hell."

"Oh, please. Give her some credit. She can't be that petty."

"You didn't hear her in there, Russell. I was almost just fired." Lee rolls his eyes at him, waiting for ages for him to stop bitching.

"Next period. She's got two back-to-back teacher meetings. That's a 72 minute window."

"A window for what?" Gamby's tone has calmed as curiosity overtakes anger.

"To get some dirt on this motherfucker."

Next period, just as Lee said, you're tied up with teacher meetings. The two men meet up in the parking lot and make their way to your home address, courtesy of Lee's information binder. When they arrive, they notice your husband's car in the driveway.

"That must be her fucking cuckold husband's car," Lee observes.

"God, don't tell me he's a stay-at-home wife."

"He's not. He's a pretty important figure at the law firm he works at... He shouldn't be here..." Lee narrows his eyes suspiciously. The two men very carefully park the car a few blocks away. Just as they're reaching for the handle to open the car doors, another car, a red sedan, pulls into your driveway. Lee and Neal duck down to hide, still watching the mystery car.

A beautiful, tan woman with long, thick black hair cascading down her back emerges from the car like a siren breaking past the surface of water. She's gorgeous. Even Neal finds himself at a loss for words. The lovely woman approaches the door to the home you share with your husband of almost 10 years and walks right inside. No knocking.

"I don't think her husband is the cuckold," Neal whispers. Lee's face is contorted into a devilish smile as he watches the perfect situation set up for him. He doesn't even need to get out of the car. Whipping out his phone, he dials the number to the school and does his best to disguise his voice. It works perfectly, and he advises that Ms. Swift alerts you right away that your house is on fire.

The two men return to the school, satisfied with the impending turmoil. Neal runs off to look busy, and Lee sits in the front office, waiting. He watches you receive the news, your face flushes white and your knees attempt to buckle before you bolt straight out the door. Mr. Russell wishes so badly he could be a fly on the wall when you catch your long-term husband in the hands of a beautiful, even younger woman. His secretary.

A few hours pass and you finally return to school. Your clothes are still perfectly styled and placed, and your hair is beautifully styled, but your make-up shows evidence of the flood of tears that has washed down your face. It's not easy to see, you'd have to be looking for the tear stains. And Lee was.

"Hey, there, darlin'. I saw you leaving in a hurry. Everything okay?" Lee catches you in conversation as you walk through the door.

"Everything's fine, Mr. Russell. False alarm. I guess I'm luckier than most," you smile warmly. So convincingly fine, he wonders if what he witnessed was even an affair at all.

"Well, are you sure? I-"

"Today is a beautiful day, isn't it?" You stare out the window into the sunny courtyard of the school.

"Uh, yeah. It's nice out."

"Let's just be thankful for that." You inhale and exhale with a big, peaceful smile before disappearing into your office. Lee's partially confused by your resolve, but he knows better than anyone how quickly that all fades away once reality sets in. The next few days, he's patiently awaiting your downfall.

To his dismay, every day you come in, you seem to be doing better and better. If he hadn't seen your husband stick his tongue down that woman's throat, he might even convince himself he dreamed the whole event. Lee's just about to give up on that scheme altogether until he stops by your office unannounced.

Without knocking, he swings the door open and steps inside.

"Hey, I got you your-" he stops in his tracks, two coffees in hand. You're sitting at your desk, sobbing in front of a photo of you and your husband at your wedding. Your shoulders shudder with every uneven breath from your heaving chest. All of a sudden, Lee no longer cares about the plan. He doesn't care if you go or stay. Guilt eats him alive as he listens to you try your hardest to keep quiet before you straighten up your appearance and make your rounds once again. He closes the door behind him and sets the drinks on your desk, only then do you notice his presence.

"Mr. Russell, I'm so sorry!" You startle, sitting up and quickly turning your chair away from him. You tap away at your wet face, but it's clearly a futile action. "Please excuse my hysterics. It's... been a weird week." You attempt to laugh the awkwardness away, but it lingers.

"I, um," Lee is shocked to find himself speechless. He always has something to say, especially when it comes to kicking an enemy while they're down. The perfect chance has just arisen, but when he sees the shine on your wide, watery eyes, he can't seem to force the venom out. "I brought you a coffee." You take the warm cup in your hands, reading the little logo from a locally owned coffee shop just a few miles down the road.

"Thank you, Mr. Russell." You smile weakly, appreciative of such kindness amid something so heartbreaking. For a moment, in your pitiful puddle of sadness, Lee can see himself. He's been through a divorce. In fact, it was his hellish schemes like his plan against you that ran his wife off. Guilt whittles away at him like a sharp knife against oak.

You're just about to take a sip from your gifted drink when Lee stops you, switching your cups.

"That one's mine, actually. Splenda." He smiles, nodding a silent goodbye to you and exiting your office. You watch as his hand reaches back inside, locks the door, and closes it for you, so you won't be disturbed again. It's been a while since it felt like someone did something kind of you just because, and not because you're the boss. This felt genuine, even for just a second.

"How is she?" Neal asks. Not in concern, but in reconnaissance.

"A fuckin' mess. I couldn't even fuck with her. It was like stepping on a puppy," Lee shakes his head as if he's disgusted, overwhelmed by the unexpected empathy he felt for you in that moment.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Russell. If you can't stick to the plan-"

"Don't even fuckin' start, motherfucker. You're the one comparing this shit to Christine." He waves a finger in Gamby's face. "It was a weird interaction. We're still going to break that bitch down, one way or another. I just need to separate myself from it." Gamby rolls his eyes at Lee's dramatics.

"Well, she needs to shape up. We've got a pep rally prep meeting in an hour." Neal and Lee head their separate ways and Lee finds himself lingering back around your office. That's when he hears the muffled sounds of your voice. You're on the phone. He puts his ear against the door shamelessly and tunes in.

"Mark, you can't fucking do this..." Your voice is low and calm at first. He can't hear Mark on the other end, but he gathers enough clues through what you're saying. "You don't get to do this, I get to do this. I'm the one who gets to leave... No, fuck you, Mark. You don't get to leave me! I'm leaving you! I caught you fucking your secretary, who, by the way, I feel terrible for! So I'm the one who gets to call this bullshit fucking marriage quits!... I will put you in the ground if you think you're taking my dog!" Lee hears the sound of you slamming the phone onto the receiver. Seconds later, you're opening the door, standing right in front of Lee. You're quite literally blind with rage, walking right past him and heading for one of the rear doors of the school.

"Dr. Y/L/N?" He trails behind you, quietly attempting to gain your attention, but you keep walking. He can nearly see the heat waves coming off of you. If physics allowed it, he just knows your head would be on fire right now. You get outside, but your feet don't stop there, and neither do his. You're deep in the woods, only 20 feet or so from Lee and Neal's meeting place. When you finally stop, you throw your head back and release the most guttural, angry wail he's ever heard. It only lasts a few seconds, and when you're done, it turns to a few short moments of shaky breaths before you finally feel like both of your feet are back on Earth.

"Mr. Russell, hello." You turn around, red from embarrassment having been seen like that.

"Dr. Y/L/N." He nods.

"Did you, uh, you followed me out here, huh? Saw some of... That?" You shift back and forth from the ball of your foot to the heel.

"Well," again, he can't make himself say the horrendous insults he had chambered, poised as harmless remarks. "I just got here," he says, and you know he's lying, but you appreciate it all the same.

"I don't usually react like that," you admit, taking a seat on a fallen tree. Lee glances behind him and then joins you where you sit. "I was doing a lot better."

"What do you mean?" Lee feigns a tone of genuine concern, though his curiosity is at the wheel as well.

"I have- used to have a little bit of a temper." Your shoulders drop as if a weight has been lifted off of them. Like you've been holding on to this. "I've been medicated for a while and I was in therapy a few years ago. I haven't really lost it in almost six years. Mark was such a big help, I guess this all just felt..."

"Like a punishment?"

"Yeah! Exactly!" You're shocked to see your eccentric coworker relating to you in this way.

"My wife left me last year," he confesses with a defeated smile. He looks at the ground, quickly reliving coming home to that empty house.

"I'm sorry to hear that..." A short silence lingers between the two of you as neither knows what to say to make it better, so Lee just changes subjects altogether.

"We uh, have a 'pep rally prep meeting' soon," he quotes Gamby.

"It seems we do," you sigh. "I'd appreciate it if we could keep this between us, Mr. Russell."

"'Course we can." He smiles a kind, fake smile and escorts you out of the woods. As you walk ahead of him, his facade drops and he silently scolds himself for yet again, dropping the ball. Not only did he not antagonize, he may have even helped just now. What the fuck?

At the meeting, you and Lee walk in together. Gamby eyes him suspiciously as you take your seat at the head of the room. The meeting is about trivial nonsense like themes, refreshments, and performances. The group comes up with several really good ideas, and you're left to be the deciding factor.

You settle on pizza and sweets, to treat the kids and get their energy high for the day of. As far as performances, you've reached out to a few local gymnast groups that could put on a feat of athletics. Fun! Theme is where you're stuck. Everyone's got sparkling ideas. Circus theme, underwater, Mardi Gras. But it's not enough for you. It doesn't scream "winners" to you.

"The theme is- wait, what's our mascot again?" You glance around the room. "All I ever see are feathers. Is this a Boston Reds situation?"

"Well... Yeah..." Ms. Snodgrass pipes up.

"We'll need to get that remedied." You give a 'yeesh' expression. "Top of the docket next meeting."

"Wait, we can't use the Indians?" Gamby asks, confused.

"Let's don't call them that. We're gonna put a pin in this conversation and turn it back to the theme." You mime putting a pin in a corkboard.

"But-"

"Mr. Gamby, if the next word out of your mouth isn't the best fucking theme idea I've ever heard, I will take you out back myself." Your threat works to silence him, but it also sends a wave of unease over the room. You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, attempting to regain control of the room. You can hear the other teachers whispering and it finally dawns on you that you've forgotten to take your medicine. You've been so busy with Mark and meetings, you haven't taken the only thing that stops you from being the absolute menace that you are.

"I'm thinking, we play to our strengths," Lee stands, drawing every set of eyes off of you and onto him. "We're already warriors, let's just slap a different image on that. Knights in armor or something for the pep rally until you choose a new mascot."

"That's a great idea, Mr. Russell!" You beam, thankful for his introjection. You're starting to really trust him, which is exactly what he wants. Regardless of if he's able to hurt your feelings, he can still gather your sensitive information and use it against you. It's his specialty.

The meeting is adjourned and everyone returns to their duties. You scan the area and call Neal and Lee into your office.

"I really appreciate the friend and second in command you've been, Mr. Russell. And by default, you, Gamby." Your tone earns a sneer from Neal. "I am in for some real fucked up bullshit coming in the next few, I don't know, weeks? Months?" You toss your arms up. "I'm just really thankful to have you both here. I really hope the three of us can get closer and really solidify as an admin team."

The two men thank you for your words of praise and leave you to it in your office. As they walk away, Neal whispers harshly to Lee.

"What the fuck was all that? You're being a friend to her? I thought we were breaking her down?"

"We are breaking her down. You just don't understand how much worse words can hurt when they're coming from a friend. Probably because you don't have any."

"Fuck you, Russell," Gamby huffs.

[rou-luxe]

please elaborate on the grandpa clavis bc I don't know much about Alfons, so idk what to think about that 😭

hEHehEhhAaAaHAHA LET'S GO I HAVE PERMISSION TO GET THE IDEA OUT OF MY HEAD (cracks knuckles) I love them both

analysis under the cut spoilers for Clavis, light spoilers for Alfons

I kinda quit Alfons route early to go to the English server release because my brain is too lazy to translate everything 😭 so this is just from what I know about him. this is doomed to be inaccurate 💀

warning this gets off topic in some places because my analysis ideas carried me a bit too far because I love them

The central point is that they both use pleasurable experiences to ignore reality. Alfons focuses a LOT on the pleasure part of that, as seen from erm his lack of sleep and mentions it plenty in voicelines. Alfons also applies this philosophy to people other than himself. Alfons sometimes protects MC from uncomfortable realities, like the scene where he and Ellis kill someone, and uses his power to convince MC that it was just a play (Kate LOVES plays).

As seen from his profile, Alfons heavily resents pain of any sort. I already forgot when exactly (chapter 4 premium avatar challenge?), but at some point, MC is crying and he consoles them before you know- this is just an assumption, but I think he doesn't want any sort of emotional turmoil in those close to his heart. He keeps reassuring Elbert that he is much more beautiful than MC without hesitation. Not only is he making sure MC is safe and doesn't get in a horror-esque story (nervously looks at Elbert trailer), he's also making sure that Elbert doesn't get jealous to the point of performing taxidermy on a person... because the events leading up to that would hurt them both. This makes Alfons feel so kind and considerate ngl 😭

Clavis wants to be loved by all. The game sometimes describes him as "lonely" - this is likely because he was overshadowed by Chev as a kid, and because he felt so shaken by his mother's death that he needed attention from others to feel more complete. It also connects to his pranks. He wants to feel something, anything to pretend he's not dying inside. Whether the attention he gets is positive or negative, at least he feels something.

It's mentioned quite a lot in his path that the more pained / scared Clavis is feeling, the more he smiles. It's sort of his coping mechanism. By smiling, he can pretend everything is alright (HIS MOM 😭😭 I'M GONNA FUHGKING CRY SHE MUST'VE BEEN SO SWEET AND BEAUTIFUL AND Cybird I want to see his mom).

He also does somewhat force MC to be around him, but it's not in a Silvio way, it comes off more clingy to me. He's been left alone, abandoned so many times, that he can't bare the pain of loneliness anymore. And thus we get dragged to his breakfast parties. Another coping mechanism. Clavis gets to spend time with MC every morning, gets to cook for her (...it's the thought that counts) and terrorize a couple of his half-brothers... just to forget it all. Clavis even escapes from his prison cell just to see you, the light of his life. (I love him)

"Sylvatica" comes from the scientific name for "forget-me-not". This one is completely an assumption that seems rather unlikely, but perhaps like Clavis, Alfons wants to be remembered somehow.

I can't remember if this was legit or not because I've been scrolling through Tumblr too much but I remember seeing a post that went something like: "Alfons has MC sign (something) papers because after he dies, his curse will make him forgotten and he just wants something to prove that he loved MC" or something. (That post broke my heart so bad.) Is that why he's called a "phantom"?

In summary:

They both have their own ways of ignoring reality, and they are both up to trickery (especially when it comes to MC). Both endulge in enjoyment, it's part of their lifestyle. doesn't necessarily refer to seggs but it does sure sound like it

I'm not quite sure where Alfons' ignorance originates, but all Clavis wants is to be loved. Give him the love.

Okay onto the shorter sillier theories because my heart can't take this

Clavis' epithet is "The Pleasure-Loving Beast", and Alfons' is "The Hedonistic Thrill-Seeker".

Clavis likes tricks and teasing, and so does Alfons. Though Clavis does that MUCH more often.

They also act like they're fucking around but they actually know what they're doing.

They pretend to be worse than they are 😭 (omg shakespeare too... is that my type... 💀)

Others have made this remark before but Alfons feels like a darker Clavis + more unhinged

They both like to cook. And eat. And they both have stomachs of steel.

sword

They both have bad handwriting. Clavis is notorious for this, and Alfons says he has bad handwriting in the first letter of his path.

Fuck I forgot I had science homework due tomorrow

edit: I forgot another one they both are self-described "gentlemen" 😭😭

[happilyhertale]

what about a tom bennett x reader in which reader takes up the job as being a housekeeper for the bennett family? reader is sweet and a bit shy but douglas immediately takes her in and reassures her about everything.

tom develops something for the kind girl, him and her getting close and a secret relationship soon develops between the two. (fluff, angst, smutttt)

please?

Finding the courage – Tom Bennett x female!reader, Part 1

Summary: You spent a sheltered childhood in Brighton. Until the time when your father died. Your mother is overwhelmed with the role of caring mother, which eventually leads you to leave home and seek happiness elsewhere. But you have not in the least anticipated what or who awaits you in your new adopted home.

Pairing: Tom Bennett x fem!reader

Warnings: In some parts smut as well as violence. There will be an extra warning for the respective parts.

Author’s note: Hey you (:

This short Tom Bennett story is based on the request that was sent to me. The story takes place before the first season of World on fire. I hope you will enjoy the story! English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 2.6k

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Other stories of mine

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The sun slowly rises and envelops the sky in a fiery light pink. You see yellow fields, as far as the eye can see, pass by the window. All the rape fields melt before your eyes into huge, yellow expanses. In the distance, the yellow seems to kiss the still light pink shimmering sky.

Only now and then are the fields replaced by small sections of forest. In this early morning hour you see a few deer carelessly jumping across the fields and disappearing into the forest.

You have to smile a little at the image that presents itself to you here. It would indeed be a beautiful moment, if your overall situation did not leave you in a worried, if not anxious mood.

In the middle of the night you finally got the courage to leave your old life behind. You got on the train in Brighton and just wanted to leave.

Your thoughts take you back to your childhood. To a time when everything was still fine. To a time when your father was still alive. He died when you were nine years old and nothing was the same. Everything changed from one moment to the next. He was the one who took care of you, who made you feel safe. Your mother was also loving towards you. As best she could... It's just not in her blood to be a caring mother, but you can't judge her for that.

It wasn't easy for her either to lose your father. They loved each other in their own way and his sudden loss was difficult for her to cope with. Likewise, he was the one who had a good job and brought home money regularly. Financially you were not doing badly, your father earned a lot of money. But when he died, his income was missing, and at some point it was clear that your mother would have to look for a job again. Her savings were almost exhausted.

She found a job relatively quickly. At first she worked in a grocery shop. But after a while she lost the job. Then she worked in a small library, but she also lost that job after a few months. Then she started as a cleaner in a restaurant. But that job didn't last long either. It went well for a few years, but then suddenly she couldn't find work. She was in the awkward position of having to earn money at any cost because you were still at school and couldn't support her by finding a job yourself.

And so she started seeing men. Not to get to know them better, but to earn money. She was a very pretty woman. She is tall, which usually got her most of the attention as soon as she entered a room. She was not too thin, nor too fat. Her curves adorned her body in all the right places, and the overall outer appearance was rounded off by her long legs. Her long brown hair usually fell down her back. But almost the most beautiful thing about her were her large green eyes, which she always accentuated with a little eye shadow. You have often been told that you are the image of your mother. Her looks helped her to date men and ask for money in return. At first she went out to dinner with the men or accompanied them to important occasions. At least that's what she told you. But at some point you realised that it was stressful for her to meet these men and she started drinking regularly. The fact that these men she met showed up at your door from time to time and wanted to "see" your mother certainly contributed to her unpleasant situation. And her new lifestyle ensured that she lost her natural beauty.

It happened more and more often that you came home from school at noon and your mother was lying unconscious on your sofa. There were empty wine bottles all over the house and she would just snore quietly. Consequently, there was no lunch for you either and from that point on you started making sure that there were regular meals and that the household was run.

So you started cooking for yourself and your big brother and keeping the house clean. Your brother, who was still living with you at the time, regularly fought with the men outside your door, but he soon moved out. He couldn't take it any more and wanted to seek his fortune in London.

So it was just you and your mother. You have a rather shy personality, but you are not helpless. And so it was now your job to drive away the uninvited guests at your door. It is also thanks to your shyness that you have few friends. You need time to warm up to people, but few take the time to really get to know you. But that meant you had no one to talk to about these problems.

But still, from time to time there were people in your life with whom you could talk about your problems. Because even though you don't have many friends, you have had romantic relationships. Two men have already managed to get closer to you. They were very caring and sweet, but in the end it just wasn't what you were looking for and so you ended both of those relationships.

When you finished school, you started working in a pub, as a waitress. You worked many nights and served the men of the town. The work gave you good and not so good experiences. But what you can say is that you love to drink a beer or two, have nice conversations and dance. The beer probably helps you to dare to go out on the dance floor.

But after you started saving a little money, your mother also started talking more and more about how you could support her in her work. That if you double-dated with men, you could just make more money. Of course you refused and told her that would never happen. That was the moment when you first thought about moving out.

For a few weeks she left you alone with the subject, but then she started talking about it again and became very insistent. You had the feeling that there was someone else behind it and that she was not acting out of her own desire.

One evening your mother was unbearable. She kept trying to convince you that you could at least come to dinner with her and a certain man. When you got tired of contradicting her, you agreed.

You agreed to go out for dinner with your mother and a strange man the next evening. And she seemed somehow relieved.

Then you went to your room because you had to work that night and you had to get ready for it. But when you were in your room, you packed your things. Now you've had enough. You didn't want to stay in that place and start seeing random men for money. And just like your brother, you would seek your fortune elsewhere now. Maybe in London, like your brother.

You have taken your old backpack and packed it with the most important things. From the box under your bed you took out all your savings. With this, you can at least buy yourself something to eat for a while.

After you had packed everything you needed, you walked over to your window and carefully threw your backpack out of the window. You walked through your room one last time, taking one last look around. You sighed, now you would leave your home, but somehow you were not sad about it. Once again you looked in the mirror hanging in your room. You took a deep breath and left your room.

When you came to the living room, your mother was sitting there drinking her wine.

"Goodbye, Mum"

She smiled at you, "See you later my darling. Have a good time at work. See you tomorrow night at the latest!"

You nodded at her and smiled.

You have left the house. It's summer and as you stood outside the door, a light breeze was blowing. It smelled like rain.

You walked around the house and picked up your backpack. Slowly you walked down the street where you grew up. You took another look at the neighbours' houses and the gardens. You had to smile, countless times you had played there. Seeing the area for the last time made you a little sad... But it was the only right thing to do. At the end of the street you turned off and the pub appeared at the end. As you entered, the familiar cloud of smoke met you and loud music played.

You walked through the dancing people and are greeted by some of the guests. You walked straight ahead to the bar.

"Ey! Y/n! I'm glad you're here!"

He smiled at you until his expression became questioning, " Why do you have a backpack?" your boss asked you.

"Yea.. Frank... I need to talk to you."

He lookes at you worriedly, "Is everything alright?"

You nodded, "I will go... I'm going to leave Brighton. Tonight. Preferably now. I don't know where to go... And I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell my mother?"

He looked at you startled, "Wow.... Y/n... do you think this is the right decision?"

Again, you just nodded.

"Okay... then... come here one last time," and he opened his arms.

The older, slightly chubby man wraped you tightly in his arms. During the time you worked here, he always took good care of you and looked after you.

"Now I'll probably lose a lot of tips".

You laughed.

"But wait!" he went to his cash register and took out some money.

"Take this as your pay, for the hours you've already worked this week".

Shocked, you looked at him, he put about two hundred pounds in your hand, "No Frank! That's too much!"

"Don't argue! Please take it" he just put his hands in his pocket so you couldn't give him the money back.

You smiled and hugged him again, "Thank you..."

He hugged you tightly, "Take care of yourself, will ya?"

You nodded, "I'm not very talkative, but quick-witted!"

He nodded at you and you turned and made your way to the exit of the pub.

After a short walk you have reached the station. There were hardly any people at the station, probably because it was already late. After finding out which train was leaving next, you decided not to go to London. Because if you really wanted to go to London, you would have had to spend the whole night at the station, because the next train to London didn't leave until the next day. But you didn't feel like doing that. So you just got on the next train and let yourself be surprised where you'd arrive. It didn't matter now anyway.

And so it came to pass that you are sitting on the train watching the sunrise. You are sure that you have made the right decision, but you still feel insecure.

But you will just have the courage and get off at the next station.

You notice that the train is slowing down and you sigh. You get up from your seat, adjust your dress and slowly put on your backpack.

The train slowly pulls into the station and as it comes to a stop, you open the door. You step out onto the platform and look around. Not many, but some people are walking hurriedly around you. Either they want to board the train or they are leaving the platform.

You have been watching them for some time. But as you stand alone on the platform and the train starts to leave again, you walk along the platform.

You come to a sign and you stop. Your gaze goes up to read the sign.

It says "Manchester".

You sigh, "Okay... Manchester it is".

Slowly you walk to the end of the platform. As you leave the station, you realise that you don't even know where you are going. But the best thing to do is probably to find the city centre first.

You walk through the streets of Manchester, trying to find your way around. Many small houses decorate the streets, creating a pleasant atmosphere. And you see at least as many small shops that look very inviting. At first glance, you like the city. You spend some time strolling through the streets and looking at the shop windows.

But when you pass a bakery, you realise how hungry you actually are. You go in and buy some rolls.

You continue on your way and slowly eat one of the rolls.

It is getting close to mid-afternoon when you pass a factory.

Then you notice an elderly man standing in front of a factory. He is trying to talk to the people walking past him. Until you realise that he is handing out leaflets, or at least he is trying to. Because most people just walk past him without paying attention or turn away from him.

Somehow you can't stop watching him. Until a pretty young lady comes out of the factory and walks straight up to him. She smiles at him and they talk. You are almost startled as they walk away together. Is this his ploy? You watch them for a moment and the young lady seems to really go with him.

Slowly you walk on, around the factory and discover an industrial area. At least that's what it seems like. But as you get closer, you see that there are just a lot of buildings that seem to be empty. The sun is slowly setting and you decide to see if you can sleep in one of the buildings. You notice a small stream at the edge of the site and since there are few people around here, behind the factory, even animals dare to approach the stream.

As you walk across the grounds, you soon discover a small cottage standing in the middle of all the big empty buildings and you go towards it. You try to open the door, but it is very difficult to open. With all your strength you push against the door and it slowly opens. You look behind the door and some beams are lying there. After you have closed the door behind you, you lock it with the beams that are lying there on the floor.

As you turn into the room, you notice that there are curtains in front of the windows. At least they used to be curtains. But it makes the room almost homely. You go further into the house and in a room at the back you see a sofa. It looks reasonably clean. You decide to stay here. At least for the summer. For the winter you should find something else.

You sit down on the sofa with a sigh and realise how tired you really are.

You look out of the window and see that it is almost dark. You take a small blanket from your backpack and put it over you. The sofa is very small, but still comfortable. You try to make yourself comfortable on it. After you have turned back and forth a few times, you lie on your back and look up at the ceiling. Gradually it gets darker and darker and you can't stop thinking. Your thoughts turn to your mother, who is probably waiting for you to finally show up so that you can have dinner with her and the man. You turn on your side and look into the dark room. Tomorrow you should really get a job here so you can find a small flat or a room. That was probably your last clear thought, because the next moment the sun is slowly rising.

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