#just sit right back and you'll hear a tale

[mediocrecowboyhat]

Set in sand - Chapter 8

We mark the year 1934 and a peculiar journal falls into your hands. It's telling the tale of an outlaw and the downfall of a gang. Some pages are torn and others are downright unreadable, but nevertheless, you are still able to make out some parts of the tragic story.

With the help of a certain time traveler friend of yours, will you be able to safe the author of the journal or will you be the cause for his demise?

Previous chapter

Word count: 3316

TW: end-game spoilers will be mentioned very early on in the story, 18+ MDNI, sexual themes, violence, gore, death, misogynistic themes (anything that happens in the game as well)

Everyone in camp is on high alert and doing their best to pack up everything as fast as possible. No matter how much you keep yourself busy by putting as much on your plate as you can, you're still unable to shake off the concern you feel for Arthur.

It's nibbling at you, feeding on your anxiety and you catch yourself listening for the familiar sound of hooves approach or looking out for a flash of black from his hat between the trees. Something dawns on you then.

I could leave during this commotion.

Not a single person would notice and you'd even bet money on that. A strange mix of guilt and betrayal spreads in your chest for just considering that option though and you shake your head. This is bad. Really bad.

-

"I'm just worried that it might get to you.", Francis comments and you wave it off.

"What? Are you worried that I might find out how amazing of an outlaw I am?", you tease with your lips curled up into a smirk.

The red head shakes his head in both amused disbelief and frustration. "No, but think about it. You will live with these people, possibly even befriend them. Leaving them behind could proof to be difficult."

His words make sense, but you're not too concerned about it. Arthur Morgan is the only person you have to build up an at least decent relationship with and besides, you highly doubt that you'll manage to properly befriend anyone there.

They're all criminals and you're not. These are two different worlds.

-

I'm a criminal like them now.

It doesn't happen everytime, but every now and then when you close your eyes you see the faces of the two men you killed. One a contorted mask in terror and shock from above and the other a cruel, bloody pool from below.

It's haunting to say the least.

"Arthur! Have you been followed?", you hear Dutch call out and you quickly turn on your heels to get a better look at the man who you've been so worried about this entire time.

His clothes are dirty and he's panting heavily, but you can't see any injuries on him. Not even a speck of blood on his shirt or pants. That's a good sign.

Unfortunately he's not staying for long, because Dutch almost immediately sends him away with Charles to check out a potential spot to set up a new camp. Someone pushes you harshly from behind and you let out a startled yelp.

"Move it! We ain't got time!" Miss Grimshaw's scolding puts you right back to work and you completely forget about the fact that your departure is long overdue.

---

The spot Arthur and Charles have found for the gang is directly by a river and close to a town called Rhodes. You remember reading the name in the journal and recall two families living nearby.

If your memory can be trusted then they're supposed to have some serious feud or so. It would be smart not to get too involved, but you never know with Dutch.

Together with Sean, Karen and Lenny you sit at a table and listen to the Irishman boast about that one trainjob back in New Hanover, the one where you helped steal the oil wagon. How many times has he talked about that now?

"And then that gobshite hit me on the head, but that didn't faze me at all!", he proudly exclaims while puffing out his chest a bit and you fight back an eye roll.

Even Karen who is usually glued to his lips seems a bit indifferent towards the tale. Lenny on the other hand looks quite troubled as if something is weighing heavily on his mind.

"Sean! How about you stop fucking around and instead lend me a hand!", Bill yells over the entire camp and earns himself an annoyed grunt from the red head.

"If you'll excuse me. I have important business to attend to." With these words Sean leaves the table and you shake your head once he turns away.

"I wonder how often he will talk about that.", you comment and get a rather hasty nod from Karen.

Shortly after she gets up from her seat as well. It's her turn to stand guard at the edge of camp. So now it's just you and Lenny and you decide to investigate what's been bothering him so much.

"You okay?", you ask and furrow your eyebrows in concern. The young man let's out an aggravated sigh and scratches the back of his neck.

"I don't know. Sean keeps bragging about all the money he brings in and I guess I feel like I'm not contributing enough.", he hesitantly admits and you place your hand on his shoulder.

As you two lock eyes, you give him a soft squeeze. "Don't take everything he says so seriously. You've heard what Arthur said about the train job."

The outlaw wouldn't shut up about how much Sean was overwhelmed with the task of checking the baggage wagon. He still mentions it regularly, because it gets such a rise out of the Irishman.

"You're right, but I still feel so...I don't know."

You pull your hand away and give him a reassuring smile. "Don't see this as a competition. Everyone knows how much you're doing for the gang."

"Maybe, but it would still be nice to have something to show to the others, you know?", he says and you nod.

Of course you know. That's the whole reason why you decided to learn how to steal from people. Now that you think of it you should maybe also focus on bringing some money in again.

The few dollar bills from that one guy from Valentine definitely aren't enough. Sure, you helped with the oil wagon, but got yourself kidnapped right afterwards and you feel like that overshadowed your accomplishment with how much effort they had to put into your rescue.

"How about we head into Rhodes and talk to the people? To look for a lead, I mean.", you suggest and Lenny's lips curl up into a wide grin.

"Sounds good!"

Together you ride on his horse towards the nearby town and he hitches it outside the post office. There you split up and he heads deeper into Rhodes while you decide to pay the saloon a visit.

With your newly acquired experience in scamming people, you slip into your charm and head straight to the bar to order a drink. As you still try to decide which role to play as and the bartender pours you a whisky, you overhear a conversation at the table next to you.

"They're gonna send me out to Saint Denis to drive this bank coach.", a man says in an almost hushed voice and you throw a quick look in his direction. Two men are sitting across from each other and slightly bend over the table.

How very secretive.

Casually you sip at your drink and pretend to admire the many different bottles behind the bar counter while you focus all your attention to the conversation. If there's anything you've learned so far then it's that bank coaches are a promising steal.

"But you won't drive alone right?", the other man asks.

"Of course not, you moron. Yes, this shithole is a backwater place, but that thing will be loaded with money. Only a fool would make this a one-man job."

You linger a bit longer at the bar with the hope of finding out the exact number of guards that will be assigned to this coach. They might even spill when and where the coach will pass.

Perhaps you should stroll over and make yourself acquainted with them? There is a chance that the guy will even tell you all that himself if you get him drunk enough.

In one go, you finish the glass infront of you and brush your fingers over the right pocket of your coat. The light bulge of the Schofield inside gives you a sense of comfort, especially now that you've gotten so much better at shooting.

And especially now that you're a bit less scared of using it against a person as well. Quickly you fix up your appearance a little and confidently saunter over to the table.

"Hey, boys.", you say in a sultry voice and curl up your lips into the sweetest smile you can muster up.

Both of them give you their attention pretty much immediately and you tilt your head in innocent curiosity. "Do you mind if I join you for a drink or two?"

"No, ma'am! N-not at all!", the coach driver says and hastily pulls out a chair for you.

Now let's get to work.

---

By the time you're done faking your interested, getting both men absolutely hammered and squeezing them of every last drop of information, the sun is beginning to set. These guys would probably sell out their own mother over a few drinks and attention from a pretty lady.

The sunlight from outside is drowning the interior of the saloon in a warm, orange hue and you feel your eyelids growing heavy from both providing entertainment and drinking.

Much to your relief you see, in the corner of your eye, Lenny push open the front door and you wave at him. His face lights up the moment his eyes fall on you which is a vast contrast to the two men you're still sitting with.

As they notice you lock eyes with the young man, their features darken as if they've just received bad news.

"Who is this boy?", one of them mumbles irritated and you stand up from your chair.

Even though you have made sure not to drink too much to keep a clear mind, the alcohol still gets to you. You should have definitely eaten something before heading into town, but alas.

"He is my ride home. Now, gentlemen, if you'll excuse me."

Just as you're about to walk away, one of the men grabs you by the wrist and gives you a sickening grin, one you've seen before not too long ago. Mental images of the O'Driscoll boys who have abducted you flash before your inner eye and you feel something strange boil up inside your chest.

"Aw you can't just leave like that, miss.", he says in a feigned nice tone and his eyes roam over your figure.

The wide grin on his face reveals a set of yellow, crooked teeth and the stench of alcohol hits you in the face like a freight train. You give your hand a light tug, but his grip on you is tight. He isn't intending to let you go so easily.

He says something else, but you're unable to hear what it is. The blood rushing through your ears drowns it out completely and it's as if someone has put a veil over your head.

Your body is on autopilot and with your free hand you fish out the Schofield from your pocket and point the other end of the barrel right at his forehead. His eyes go wide in shock and he quickly lifts his hands up, letting you go in the process.

"I was just jokin', miss.", you hear him say, but it sounds like he's talking to you from another room. His voice is so far away.

That's also when you feel Lenny's hand gently tugging at your arm and you blink a couple times after you snap out of the weird trance. Everyone in the saloon has their head turned in your direction and they're all staring you down.

Some of the faces reveal fear and others carry an unspoken warning with them. Without saying another word you lower the revolver and let Lenny drag you out of the building in the direction of his horse.

"It's a bit early to make enemies, wouldn't you agree?", he says and you brush your hair out of your face.

"I'm sorry.", you mumble and he give you a quick look which you can't quite decipher.

"What was that just now?", he asks and you shake your head.

Indeed, what was that? You're not sure if you can quite explain it yourself. "No idea."

Thankfully he doesn't question you any further and you ride back to camp in awkward silence. After a while you clear your throat.

"So got any interesting leads?" Your attempt to lighten up the mood is pathetic, but he doesn't comment on it.

"Some feller told me about this place, Shady Belle. Apparently there are some good weapons and money."

You nod. "Worth stealing."

"My thoughts exactly.", he answers as you two reach the camp. "I just need to figure out who I could bring with me. I was thinkin' about Arthur maybe."

That's a good choice and the two of them get along so well with each other. When you found out about the bank coach you were also playing with the thought of bringing Arthur on board as well, but you're not sure if he'd want you there.

It still seems like he doesn't quite trust you with big jobs just yet. Especially not after the whole ordeal with the O'Driscolls. While Lenny hitches the horse you tell him about your own findings and he gives you an impressed look.

"That's a good lead, actually.", he admits and you throw your hands in the air.

"Thank you! I just have to figure out what to do next." It's no secret and no surprise to anyone that you lack the knowledge or experience regarding robberies like this.

Or well, robberies in general and you desperately want to change that.

Why? I will be leaving soon anyways. I should have left already.

But it doesn't hurt to extend the stay a bit. Right?

I might have saved Arthur from tuberculosis, but that could have changed the timeline and now something else could kill him.

Exactly. You're only staying here for now to make sure that nothing else happens to him. That's a good reason and you're doing a good thing.

Lenny rips you out of your inner monolog. "If you need help you can always come to me. I might not have been long in this business, but I know a thing or two."

His joke earns him a laugh from you and you give his shoulder a friendly pat. "Thank you. I'll remember that."

With that you part your ways and you make your way closer to the river. There's a log you can sit down on and you sweep the sand off it before you take the seat. You replay the events from the saloon in your mind as you stare out towards the almost still water.

You still can't explained what might have happened there. Perhaps it was your survival instinct that kicked in? Possibly.

A sigh escapes your throat and you feel someone rest down right next to you. Arthur holds out a cup of coffee and you murmur a quick 'thank you' before taking it.

Not everyone in 1899 seems to know of hygiene and you obviously didn't expect for people to smell like roses when you traveled back here, but there's something about Arthur's scent that you really like.

It's not like he takes a bath everyday, but he doesn't smell bad at all. Whenever he's near you, an aroma that reminds you of the forest after heavy rain fills your nose with an undertone of cigarette smoke.

Is it weird that you know exactly how to describe his scent like that? No, you're just a very perceptive person. That's all.

"I like this place. If I ever decide to look for land to own myself I should send you and Charles to search for it. The sight of you two could even give me a nice discount.", you break the silence and he let's out a cackle.

"Will we get compensation for our hard work?", he asks with an eyebrow raised in amusement and you pretend to think.

You tap your finger against your chin in a thoughtful manner. "I'll let you live in the barn. If the land comes with a barn, that is."

"How mighty kind of you."

Your lips curls up into a sly smirk. "I'm nothing, but kind, Mr. Morgan."

He throws his head back and let's out a hearty laugh. "I believe that you're spending too much time with Mrs. Adler to be saying that. I fear the woman might be rubbing off on you."

The conversation goes on with him telling you about his shopping trip with Sadie and you regret not joining them. Sure, you had fun with Lenny too and you love spending time with the boy, but you would have preferred pretty much anything else over the company of the two drunken morons from the saloon.

"It sounds like you did good with defendin' yourself.", the outlaw says and you simply shrug.

"I don't know. I feel bad, considering Dutch told us not to cause any trouble here.", you answer which he waves off in a matter of fact way.

"I'd rather you go threaten folk than gettin' snatched away again. Besides, how much worse can it get than a shoppin' trip with Sadie?"

That's true. You might have held a man at gunpoint today, but Sadie was still the one who fired. The thought gives you some comfort and you nudge Arthur's shoulder playfully with yours. "Thanks. I feel much better now."

"Always a pleasure."

You sit there in silence for a while and finish the coffee. "Got any plans for tomorrow?", you ask and try to mask the anticipation in your voice.

All that is on your agenda tomorrow is doing chores around the camp and you don't particularly feel excited about it. Not after having such a fun day out in the field with Lenny.

"Dutch wants me to find out more about this Gray family so looks like I'll pay 'em a visit.", he answers and your eyes fall on the empty cup you're holding.

You swirl around the little bit of leftover coffee. "Can I come with you?"

Arthur seems to think for a moment before nodding. "Sure, why not?"

His response makes your eyes go slightly wide in surprise and he give you a puzzled look for that. "What?"

"It's uh nothing. I just didn't expect for you to say yes so easily.", you answer. It's true. Last time with the oil wagon you had to come up with a step by step plan to convince him.

"I'll just do some talkin'. Nothin' dangerous and I guess it would look a whole less suspicious if I got a lady with me."

That makes sense. The outlaw has something rather threatening about him with his broad shoulders and the constant frown that seems to be glued onto his face. A smile begins to form on your lips.

"Perfect then! Will we dress up? Pretend to be someone else? Oh, do you want me to work on background stories for us?"

The more questions leave you the less excited he looks and he raises both hands to stop you from continuing.

"None of that please. I'll come up with a plan tomorrow mornin' and you just...try to keep ya head. Don't want another woman shootin' up the place again."

Yes, that sounds good. The last thing you want to do is make him believe that he can't let you join during his jobs ever again. You want to proof that you can handle yourself just fine and then hopefully Dutch will start sending you out too.

That bank coach might just be the prime opportunity to show that. Only thing missing is a helping hand and you got just the right person in mind.

Taglist: @shackspossum

[lastofthelovesongs]

I cannot contain the rage I feel

So my dad's girlfriend, who has hardly even touched any of our horses, gave permission to her friend's daughter/niece/something to ride our horses. My dad just keeps saying to be nice, and let it happen, but I have a feeling that he doesn't care much for the "arrangement" and just agreed to keep girlfriend happy. He won't listen when I or my sisters try to express our dislike for it.

I have no idea who any of these girls are. Was only one given permission and she just keeps bringing friends along? Whatever it is, they just show up when they want to ride our horses around. I have never met any of these girls. None of them have ever tried to speak to me about any of the horses. I don't know the riding skills of any of these girls.

Each horse has certain tack that is for them. A bridle, bit, and halter that fits them and their needs. They are using the wrong tack for the horses that they use, because they have never bothered to ask who needs what. I don't think they even know what the horses' names are. They don't know how old each one is. They don't know which ones are road safe (not that they should be riding off our property anyway), and many other things that you should know about a horse before riding.

If one of them gets hurt, or even worse, if one of the horses gets hurt, what then? I am on the verge of telling them that they aren't welcome myself. I already have a strike against them because once I got to the farm and the horse supplies were left laying everywhere. Each piece has a place to be. Brushes were laying around, halters, ropes, and bridles were in the wrong places - one bridle left hanging across a saddle instead of on a hook - and straps on the saddles were left hanging on the ground.

If that happens one more time, I'm telling them myself that they are no longer welcome. I don't care what dad or his girlfriend say.

[katz-rambles]

Hi! I saw your requests are open and I’m wondering if I can get a little Viktor xFem!Reader fic? 🥹

Maybe some angsty/dead dove themes, and lots of fluff? Maybe the Reader is taking care of Viktor while he’s in pain and they end up cuddling? Anything you want is fine! 💖

TIA if you decide to write this!!

Awww, yess! This sounds so cute. Viktors, my personal favorite, so I had a lot of fun writing this!

(fluff, angst(?) w/ comfort, gn!reader, this is it?)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰

Your footsteps echo throughout the empty hallway as you try and get to your lovely boyfriend as fast as you can. You haven't been able to see him all day. he and Jayce have been cooped up in the lab all day long.

It's well past midnight at this point, and Viktor still isn't home. Usually, you'd just let him do his thing, but not tonight, not when it's getting closer and closer to one in the morning, and there's still no sign of him. All signs in your mind point to the worst. Maybe he had a fit today and is in the infirmary, or maybe he just got caught up in whatever he was doing. You pray it's the latter.

The door to the lab is unlocked, so he hasn't left yet. He'd never forget to lock it. Unless there was an emergency. Your thoughts are swarming with what might have happened, none of them good. You have to brace yourself for what you think you may see when you get inside the lab.

It's quiet when you first enter, you could hear a pin drop. You look around, desperately searching for Viktor, and there he is, on the ground. "Viktor!" You quickly rush to his side, kneeling to try and figure out what's happening. He's sitting on the floor, his head resting against one of the legs of the desk behind him. His hands are gripping his leg as he lets out a low groan. He looks up at you, tears pricking the sides of his pretty eyes, and his brows are furrowed as he leans his head back and groans again.

"Okay. I'm gonna get you up, and we're going to go.. somewhere." You brush a few stray strands of hair off his face, internally panicking as you try and think of where to go. "Not the infirmary," he sighs, looking at you once again, "I've already been there." His words just make you panic even more.

You wrap one of your arms around his back and slowly help him stand up. He clings to you as you both get on your feet. His legs are wobbly, and if you weren't there, you're sure he would have fallen by now. You both take smaller steps. There's a comfort in the sound of the footsteps that are echoed by the thumping of a cane. It helps you remind yourself that he's right beside you and that he's not going anywhere anytime soon.

You silently thank whoever is listening that your shared dorm is on the same floor as the lab. It's not a far walk either, but the walk feels like it's taking forever. Every time you start to move a bit too fast, you hear Viktor groan, and it has your heart hurting for him. You know how much he hates it.

You embarrassingly fumble with the keys for a few seconds before you can actually find the right one. "It's okay, dear, I'm right here." Viktor mumbles, taking one of your hands in his. You nod and take a deep breath, finally grabbing the right key and opening the door. You help him get in the bed and leave the room to let him get changed into more comfortable wear.

He opens the door, and you immediately go inside, crawling onto the bed to lay beside him. You rest your head on his chest, and you can feel his slim fingers curl around your shoulder, pulling you closer. From this position, you can hear his heartbeat. Each beat is a tell tale sign that he's still with you. His hand starts to rub your arm, and he kisses your forehead.

He leaves his head on the crown of your head, inhaling your scent. Letting both of you know that you're with each other. "Do you think you'll be able to get better?" Your voice wavers at the last few syllables that leave your lips. You feel the vibrations of Viktor chuckling. "I hope so, my love. I really hope so." He sighs, and you move your position so you can clearly see his face. Your hand is resting on his chest, and your finger starts to trace random shapes into his skin. Moving to outline the marks that adorn him.

"But.. ehh.. don't worry about that. Let's focus on the present." He whispers, his voice barely reaches you. You place a soft kiss on his lips and rest your head back on his chest. For now, all you can do is hope that someone, somewhere, finds a cure. Maybe one day they will.

[luveline]

Hi! I was hoping you’d write a James or Remus fic, literally anything you want just make it super fluffy, thanks!

modern au, fem

"You have training in half an hour. What are you doing?" 

James looks up from his games console with a frown. "What?" 

"You have rugby training in half an hour, Jamie. You haven't had lunch or anything." You frown as he goes back to his game. "James, this is terrible time-keeping." 

"Sorry, I can't pause it! It's that thing. Just– fuck, two seconds my lovely beautiful darli– fuck me!" 

Curious, you creep around the bedroom to the side of the bed where he's sitting with a hunched back. "Oh. I never should've let you try. I've turned my gym mad boyfriend into a degenerate." 

You honestly believe that James should spend his time doing what makes him happiest (so long as he spends time with you, too), and for him that's rugby and weight training. They're not solely independent from one another, but they also don't always coincide, and so he spends a large majority of his time up and active. You spend some of that time active but more of it on different hobbies, including the games console. "How long have you been playing?" you ask, leaning down to stroke the thick wave of his hair from his forehead. 

"Just an hour while you were, uhm. What were you doing?" 

You kiss his forehead. "Meditating."

He laughs. "Wait, were you actually? I want to meditate with you." 

"I was doing the washing. Basically meditation if you try hard enough." He splats someone on the game, then a second person, a third in quick succession. "Are you better than me?" 

"No way, shortcake." He splats a fourth person with impressive dexterity, narrowly avoiding his own death. "I'm trying to get coins for you so you can buy that thing you want." 

James is better at the game than you, because of course he is. "I hate boys," you say decisively, kissing his forehead again. "Finish the game and get dressed, my love. I'll make you a roll to eat on the way." 

You steal a last fond kiss and he shouts sweet everythings down the stairs at you. "If my hands weren't busy!" he promises. 

You make him a sandwich and another to eat after practice and put them in a tupperware, knowing he'll scarf both in the car. It's fine, you'll just make him a third when he gets home. Time ticks on, training starts in twenty minutes, then ten. You hear the telltale sound of your avatar upstairs dying and snort to yourself. 

"James Potter!" you shout from the bottom of the stairs. "I need help!" 

There's a sudden thump and the tell-tale rush of him opening your bedroom door. "What?" he asks, coming down the stairs in a whirlwind. "What, lovely?" 

You pass him his kit and tupperware. "You're about to be late." 

"What a devious thing to do," he murmurs with a squint, though he gives you an appreciative sideways hug. "What would I do without you?"

"You'd probably have more muscles," you say. 

He kisses the soft skin under your eye as though this is the normal place for a kiss. "I think you're right. I got you enough for that thing, by the way. What was it? An aerospray?" 

He presses another kiss into the first.

You laugh and push him out the door before he gets too informed. 

[familyvideostevie]

come care about me

joel miller x reader a quiet evening at your house in Jackson with the man you call home | implied but unspecified age gap, domesticity, jackson au, joel is a flirt and a gossip [2.2k] a/n: my first attempt at joel! hope it's alright. read part 2 here! part 3 here! series masterlist here.

Jackson is quiet at this hour. The whole world is pretty quiet these days and sometimes it's more suffocating than peaceful. The white noise of life is so different -- you remember how car horns and humming power lines and the thrum of planes overhead used to remind you that you weren't alone. Now, most of the time, you're hoping you're alone. The snap of a twig or click of a safety or a muffled cough are signs of danger. But this town is safe. You know it, you feel it, but sometimes it catches up to you: how tiring it is to be on guard all the time. This is just how it is.

You hear little but your own footsteps as you head for home, hands tucked into your pockets and book wedged under your arm. The warmth of an evening spent at the town book club is still in your veins -- well, that and the finger of whiskey -- and it chases away your melancholy musings for the moment. Even better is the promise of what awaits you.

The porch light is on when you round the corner. You half expect Joel to be strumming away in his chair but there's no sign of him. Not unusual, not really, given that there's a chill in the air and Ellie was meant to come over for a movie night. Maybe she's still here and they're inside watching some shitty action flick on the couch. One or both of them always doze off before it's over. Regardless, you know he won't head to bed until you're home.

You ease open the door. The hallway smells like Ellie's favorite tea and slightly burnt bread but there's no splash of light from the TV, no clash of swords or quiet laughter.

It's dark in the house but that's not unusual either. "Took a few years to stop flicking light switches," Joel once told you. "Reckon it'll take a few more to get used to it again." He's the kind of man who would rather sit in the dark than chance disappointment.

"Joel?" you call. Your jacket goes on the hook next to his and you sit on the bench you dragged in last month for unlacing your boots, which will go next to his spare pair. He's undoubedlty still got his on, wherever he is. The tell-tale trail of belongings that often indicate the presence of a teenager is absent.

Your name echoes down the staircase followed by heavy, slightly uneven footsteps. Joel emerges into the hallway, guitar in hand. His hair is mussed like he's just thrown on the sweater he now wears and his expression softens at the sight of you, an ever-so-slight ease of his jaw and upturn of his mouth. It took you a while to learn how to spot it.

There are nights when you'll make a joke, tease him a little to try to get him to laugh. It's easier than it used to be but he likes to make you work for it. But tonight you're just glad to be home and you want to tell him so. He leans the guitar against the wall and beats you to it.

"Was gonna wait for you on the porch," he says. "Bit early to be back already." He's right. The after-discussion drinks will be going for at least another hour, thought the sun has been down for ages. You just shrug, fingers a little clumsy from the whiskey and the cold as you undo your laces.

"Wanted to come home," you say. His eyes crinkle at the corners and he crosses his arms, shoulder pressing into the wall above the guitar. Joel rarely takes, rarely reaches for what's in front of him even if he wants it, even if it's already his. It's a patience, a self discipline painfully constructed from years of survival and two rounds as a father mixed with the deep guilt he'll never allow himself to be rid of.

Point is, he'll wait for you to touch him. But that's okay. You've worked on your patience, too, and you've been doing this dance for a few years now. His arms will be open once you finish getting your damn shoes off.

"Ellie still here?" you ask. Joel's words are heavy with his drawl, heavier since being around Tommy, if Ellie is to be believed, his sentences clipped of unnecessary words and syllables. It seems that you've adopted some of his speech pattern. He'll never admit it but you think he likes it.

"You just missed her."

"I think she'd like this." You nudge the book on the bench beside you with your thigh. "I'll drop it by tomorrow. Movie night go good?"

Joel dips his chin, eyes on the floor. He shows you so much but there are some things he can't. The scabbing over wound between him and Ellie is often one of those things. "Was nice," he allows. "She n'Dina will be at dinner this weekend, she said."

You finally get your boots off and sigh, tossing them into the corner. The thud is loud enough to make you wince. "About time those girls graced us with their presence." You reach your arms above your head and stretch, joins popping and muscles sore from the sheer exertion of existing after the end of the world. Joel watches you.

"Alright," he says. He pushes off the wall with a groan. "C'mere."

It's the easiest thing in the world to walk into his embrace, socked feet soundless on the hardwood. You love Ellie like she's your own but her absence means that Joel will touch you more. He's a private man, reserved around people he knows and downright stony around those he doesn't even though the years in Jackson have softened him a great deal. He'll squeeze your hand, your shoulder, hover his palm on the small of your back as he moves around you, but that's it. He worries constantly that you'll wise up and realize he's too old, too boring, too mean, that people in town whisper the same behind your backs. Funny how in a time where you fight against fungus-powered flesh eaters, gossip still makes its rounds.

Still, you feel Joel's eyes on you in every room and you'd rather he worry about things like that than life and death beyond the walls. It's like your cells know he's near, a compass needle magnetized to the set of his shoulders and smell of wood glue and gunpowder. The rasp of his voice and his rough hands and the lines on his face. In the privacy of your home he's all yours.

"Hello," you say into his sweater. It's a new find, different from the threadbare button-ups and flannels he wears into the ground. His beard scratches against your skin and you sink into him, arms around his waist. He cradles the back of your head in one warm palm and holds you steady with the other on your back.

"Howdy," he mutters because he knows it'll make you laugh. It does. You match your inhales to his and any remaining tension from the day leaks out of both of you. "Do y'wanna to sit on the porch or go to bed? You hungry?"

His knuckles trace your spine as you shake your head. "Astrid had Seth make sandwiches. So, bed. Too cold to be on the porch."

"S'not that cold," he retorts. You roll your eyes and pull away from his embrace to look at him. His hair could do with a trim, the silver strands falling into his eyes. Your own hair has greys here and there by now, a byproduct of the times. Nearly everyone born Before has some. It's damn stressful to be alive. Joel often grumbles that you're too young for that kind of shit, not far enough from twenty for such visible signs of age.

"I've got gossip for you." That gets his eyebrows to raise.

"Do you now?" He releases you and grabs the guitar, gesturing for you to head upstairs first. "Should'a led with that."

Joel Miller is a lot of things, some of them better than others, but one of your favorites is that he's become a gossip. Maybe he was Before, too. Small-town life and safety and a teenager of his own and you have turned his eye back towards the business of other folks. Information gatherin', he calls it. Important to know what's going on.

But really he's just nosy. Good thing you are, too. It's basically the only reason you go to book club. If you actually wanted to talk about books you'd do it with the teenager living out back -- and you do -- since she's a bigger reader and miles smarter than anyone else in town.

The stairs creak like they always do. Joel has put away the laundry that you finished this morning and despite his inclination towards darkness, has left on the lamp in the bedroom. He sets the guitar back in its stand and sits in the armchair to unlace his boots, grunting a bit as he goes.

"Jesse's mother brought a new batch of whiskey for after the discussion. Caused some loose lips, I think. I hope she did it on purpose because it was worth it."

You eye the book on Joel's side of the bed. Something about...woodworking? Typical.

"Whiskey, huh?" he drawls from behind you. "Could smell it on your breath," he says. You look up and he startles you a bit by appearing in your space and tilting your chin up with two fingers. Joel presses his lips to yours firmly, tongue dipping into your exhale for just a moment before he pulls back. "Can taste it, too."

He's gone before you can lean into him. You sit down heavily on the bed. Whiskey aside, Joel's touch, his kiss, his attention always make you feel a little overwhelmed. And he knows it. You hadn't even heard him creep over to you.

"Asshole," you mutter.

"Say somethin'?" He's wandered to the closet to shuck off his jeans and sweater.

"Remember Scott?" you ask instead. "Short, got that scar across his face."

"I might be old but my memory is fine," he grumbles. "Patrolled with him last month."

"Well, he's been with Duy, that guy who works the gardens, for almost half a year, right? But according to Wendy, as of yesterday, Scott's not living in the house on Spring Street anymore. She saw him moving into a split level on Crescent."

Joel whistles through his teeth. You watch him slide into flannel pants, catch flashes of his tanned skin and your palms ache to touch him.

"You think it has to do with...what was his name? The other guy Scott's with sometimes? Phil? Peter?"

"Patrick. Yeah, that's what I thought too. Something must've been happening there." You tuck one leg under you on the bed. "What was that about a fine memory?"

He ignores you. "Never did like him much," he says. "He talks a lot." He reappears from the closet in his pants that belonged to some other man long dead, his chest bare despite the cool evening. He's a furnace, this man. You barely need layers to sleep in as the seasons change so long as he's next to you, all solid warmth and muscle. He tosses you the shirt you like to sleep in. It smells like what passes for detergent these days.

"You don't like anyone much," you tease as you unfurl your leg. It's not true, not really. Joel likes a few people a great deal and tolerates everyone else just fine. He's respected not only for being Maria's brother-in-law but for the way he can fix things, for his calm head on patrol. Children in town adore him and Ellie's friends used to revere him like a god, or so she tells you. You didn't know him before Jackson but you know enough about what happened twenty years ago, four years ago, and everything in between. You know that it made him hard but hollow. You know that that dear girl in the back shed brought him back to life and now that they're on the mend, you can see even more pieces of who he was.

You know that you've helped, too.

"I like you plenty," he says. He stands between your knees and frames your face with his hands. The callused pad of his thumb drags over your lower lip as you just stare at each other for a few moments. You press your palm to his stomach, nails sliding through the thatch of hair that leads down under the band of his pants. His abdomen contracts and his nostrils flare.

You give him a grin. "I like you plenty, too, Joel Miller." There isn't much more to it. He's probably your favorite person on this god-forsaken planet.

"Get outta these damn clothes," he grumbles around a small smile of his own. He tugs at the shirt in your hand.

You wiggle your eyebrows at him. "Oh, so we can f--"

Joel steps back and heads for the bathroom, leaving you behind with a dramatic sigh. "So we can go to sleep."

Laughter spills out of you as you head for the closet. "Whatever you say."

"You're a pain in my ass, you know that?"

The end of the world isn't so bad.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here

[mizzcap]

mouthwashing x reader

how you met part 4

JIMMY MENTIONED, monologues from game

actor AU Jimmy where he is a nice British man who is nice with dogs and who is a nice good boy

JIMMY (ACTOR AU)

-you have been having a hard time finding a final actor for your movie

-you were a college student working on your final for the year

- but because of the content of this final character's personality and story: it was hard to cast.

-the others were easy. Curly and Anya: kids form your class. Daisuke, a freshman in college who you met one day while working on the script in the college's Starbucks. And Swansea, Daisuke's older stepfather.

-truthfully you were ready to scrap the project completely

-the issues with the main character being so controversial and frankly horrible, people were hesitant to tarnish their reputation on campus

-"I got a mate. Never acted a day in his life but I got faith in him" curly told you one afternoon

-and desperate you said yes

The man in baggy grey sweatpants and a loose fitted Star wars shirt shifted uncomfortably in his spot as his eyes darted continuously between the director and Curly

"Thank you so much for coming- Jimmy, right? I'm (Y/N)" They approached him, holding out their hand Jimmy nodded, pausing to look at their hand before shaking it "Uh- yeah! Thanks for the opportunity- despite- my lack of-" he cleared his throat "-uh yeah.." his lack of experience.

He just couldn't remember the word

They nodded and smiled, backing away to sit on the desk to watch

It had only been curly and (Y/N) in the room with him, minimizing as much as possible to make him comfortable.

Jimmy stared down at the script in his shaking hands, eyes darting to Curly-- who gave him a wide and encouraging smile."Whenever you're ready" the director nodded

"What-" he cleared his throat, taking a breath "how do i- like- okay.. what emotion am I supposed to..?" They smiled reassuringly "any that feels right. You've got our attention, I promise it's normal to feel nervous"

Jimmy nodded, feeling more at ease than anything. He took a breath. Then.

"I don't think I understood the pressure you were under before"

(Y/N) Perked up at how gruff he made his voice sound. His usual slightly rasped British accent was replaced by a deeper rasping American on

"Fuck.. and you tried to tell me.. Our worst moments don't make us Monsters, Huh? You're a good captain curly... And you'll be a good captain again.. I'll get us both. Through this.."

Jimmy paused, his confidence fading as he met their eyes- "and- the other monologue too?" He asked, a bit hesitant (Y/N) Nodded and smiled "if you're up for it"

He nodded and took her another breath

"What do you think will happen when we get back, hm? All I ever hear is how great of a leader you are. God. It's so annoying. But now? What do you think will happen now when you get back? Everything you and I worked for in our lives. Accomplishments. Changes.. None of it. Will matter. No.. it's not just me, is it- you were supposed to be the one who had everything under control. You said so yourself. The ship. The crew. Everything that happened here. It's your responsibility captain. That's what you'll be hearing for the rest of your life. Or... This can all be remembered as a tragedy. Despite the best possible efforts from its acclaimed captain; the Tuplar crew was never found. No one survived to tell the tale.. you're standing at the top. Feet in cement.. I get it now. Right? I'll take care of it."

Jimmy paused, anxiety overcoming as he looked up at the director and his best friend. "How did I.. do?" He hesitated- his usual accident shining through

"..how do you feel about growing a stubble?" The director asked with a grin

[obriengf]

Long Live for the Dylan characters!!!

send me a taylor swift song and i'll give you a random dylan blurb ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ

Long Live (Thomas' Version)

I said remember this moment In the back of my mind The time we stood with our shaking hands The crowds in stands went wild

Thomas could feel the heat from the bonfire - the flames wild and vivacious, licking at the skin of his cheeks as he sat among new and familiar faces. The Safe Haven was a lot of things, but it stood mostly as a reminder to Thomas about all he had gained and lost since he first stepped foot in the Glade. He glanced around as he took in the smiles and laughter of his friends, watching as they recalled tall tales before they settled into their somewhat contentment. It was a far cry from days ago when he awoke to crashing waves and a bullet wound in his torso, bittersweet cheers and thanks were delivered his way for taking down all that was WICKED.

I said remember this feeling I passed the pictures around Of all the years that we stood there on the sidelines Wishing for right now

He could feel your hands weave around his arm before you settled comfortably into his side, breaking the boy from his continuous run of thoughts. You both had talked about this moment only a few months ago in the Scorch when finding the Safe Haven was an unbelievable construct - an impossible reach, a story told purely for reassurance rather than reality. But sitting here now proved it all wrong, in the most settling way possible. Thomas always promised that he would take down the evil in this world, and he did, with the help of his newfound family. It was endless torture from the moment his feet were swallowed in the sand of the Scorch - the constant running for your lives, fighting for survival, grieving for lost friends one by one. It was as if the ambivalence weaved through his mind and soul as he began searching for the faces that were no longer with you, among those of your friends. You always asked if he was okay, and he would always answer yes - after wishing for this safety for so long, Thomas had no other reason not to be.

Hold on to spinning around Confetti falls to the ground May these memories break our fall

It was simple in the Glade. Everybody and everything had their place, routine dictated each day, the sun would rise and it would set within clear expectations. It was a safety net for the time being and a place that, to an extent, advertised calmness. And yet, Thomas found the open wilderness of the Scorch to be unpredictable and somewhat exciting. It was where you all were tested exponentially and brought closer together. Danger creeping around every bend to counteract the hope for freedom. The search for Minho followed, and the other taken survivors - a turbulent spanner thrown into Thomas' plans. They were all filled with bad memories. And Thomas nearly gave up. Nearly. The camaraderie between lost teenagers gave him the good memories, however. Banding together to rule the world, a saving grace to soften the harshness that they each endured. It's what brought him closer to you than just cuddling into his arm - the lightness of pure love cracking through the cage that WICKED built to keep you all down. It was the friends that he made along the way - how each encounter resulted in a lifelong friendship and sense of family. It was the unforgotten memories of the people who were left behind - their deaths never in vain, but carved in stone as a reminder of who you all continued to live for.

Will you take a moment? Promise me this That you'll stand by me forever

Thomas found himself staring at the names often; inscribed on a large stone that stood proud and tall in the centre of camp. The flickers of the flames danced along his back now as his dark henley shirt absorbed the heat. He could still hear the laughter and chatter but it fell to softened white noise the more he stared at the carvings before him, and even more so as memories flooded back in with each name his finger dragged lazily across. His eyes burned from ash and a clenching chest - blinked away as you made your way to his side again. It was instant as his fingers entangled with yours before he brought joined hands to his lips, chapped skin pressing gently to your knuckles. And soon, his other side was occupied by Minho as his large hand clasped Thomas' shoulder, squeezing with reassurance. The light of the fire was blocked by Gally's tall frame next, followed by Brenda's arm over your shoulder and Aris' frame to the side. You all stood in silence, but eyes were focused in the same direction. Remembering the faces of the names; the memories.

And bring on all the pretenders, I'm not afraid Long live all the mountains we moved I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you

Thomas had lost a lot, including a part of himself along the journey to rightful freedom. And it would continue to eat at him for days, months, years after it was all over. But he also gained a lot, too. His surroundings were composed of a new community - a new society that had the bones to flourish, with new members joining as they were saved from a burning world. It was composed of a new lifestyle - building something to be proud of, an opportunity to continue using heart and strength for good. It was also composed of people that had embedded themselves to utterly deep in his life that there was no possible way he could be without them ever again. And long live them all.

One day, we will be remembered.

[localplaguenurse]

Falling Head over Heels (Pantalone X Male Reader) pt 9

More fic! More fanart! A meme! Thank you once again @your-local-furby, yes I AM going to link back to your art every time. Get appreciated loser (affectionate).

Also, all future chapters are going to link back to the masterlist for this fic! You'll also find the ao3 link there, and I'm going to link the art made for the fic there as well once I've got everything posted.

@thedeimoshimself @eli-chris

“You’re honest to god hopeless,” Alik says, “I hate to say it, but you are.”

You hear Tartaglia, number Eleven, laugh at your attempt to hide your embarrassment in your hands. “Twice, twice, how did I do this twice?”

“Didn’t you almost trip on Pulcinella forever ago?”

“That was Pavel, and he was drunk at the time.”

“So you haven’t tripped over him yet, gotcha.”

You groan in irritation before finally lifting your head up out of your hands. Straight ahead is Alik, who is taking delight in your newfound tendency to trip into members of the Fatui. In the corner of your vision, you can make out a partial profile of Tartaglia, your latest victim, sitting next to you. In front of him is the drink you bought him as an apology. You cannot see his face fully, and you are so embarrassed that you’re actually very thankful for that fact.

“Does your friend do that a lot?” Tartaglia asks.

“Running into people, or specifically Harbingers?” Alik asks in turn.

“Harbingers.”

“More than the average person should, I think.”

Tartaglia laughs. “You said twice, right? I would say it’s more than average for sure, especially if you’re still alive to tell the tale!” 

“Oh come on, the others can’t be that bad, can they?” Alik jests.

“Depends on the Harbinger,” Tartaglia says, “and depends more on their mood. I would say the Knave, the Captain, and Mayor Pulcinella would be the most forgiving, though honestly, it feels like Arlecchino can be fifty-fifty some days.”

You catch Alik’s sly smirk. “What about the Regrator? Is he forgiving at all?”

“Well, yes and no,” Tartaglia answers. “He’ll forgive you if you can make it up to him in some way.”

Alik turns their smile to you. “Lucky you.”

You see the Harbinger turn his head towards you, and you turn your head so you can see his face. “Wait, you…?” Suddenly, his dull blue eyes widen in recognition, and he grins. “It was you! You’re the one who spilled wine all over his new suit!”

“... I see my reputation precedes me,” is all you can muster.

Tartaglia continues. “It was all he talked about for the next week, how he hadn’t even owned it that long and already it was ruined, how much of a pain getting the stains out would be, and a lot of figuring out how much he should bill you for it. I was surprised he didn’t bill you for the whole suit!”

“The shirt was fairly expensive,” you say.

“Still, with how annoyed he was all week, I thought making you pay the entire dry cleaning bill was the least he would do. He’ll also tack on what some of the lower ranking agents have dubbed ‘the asshole tax,’ or the ‘inconvenience fee,’ as he would rather people call it.”

That actually gets a bit of a chuckle out of you.

Tartaglia leans props his head up in his gloved hands, giving you an inquisitive look and a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “So, do tell, what made him take pity on you?”

“It was an accident.”

This makes the Harbinger laugh. “No, no seriously, why?”

“... It was an accident.”

He shakes his head. “Pantalone doesn’t believe in accidents, he says they’re the result of negligence from people who should know better.”

“Just tell him you’re blind already,” Alik blurts out.

Tartaglia blinks. “What?”

“I’m legally blind,” you explain, “I have no peripheral vision, so I bumped into Pantalone and spilled wine on him because he wasn’t in my direct line of sight. I think he only made me pay for the shirt because he went on a rant about how foolish I am before my mother explained my condition to him.”

“Well, that’s certainly a new one,” Tartaglia comments, “he rarely takes pity on people, save for extreme cases.”

You take a swig of your beer instead of replying.

“Say, Tartaglia,” Alik says, prompting the young man to turn his attention away from you, “what else can you tell us about Pantalone?”

You shoot Alik a look. Tartaglia doesn’t see it, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “While I’m enjoying this little chat with you two, I’m afraid I can’t disclose too much about my more high ranking coworkers to anyone.”

“I’m not asking about his big plans for the bank or anything,” Alik says, “we just want to, I don’t know, learn some general information? Like what are some of his hobbies, or his favourite foods. Things to know if you want to get closer to him.”

“And why do you want to get to know him?”

“Oh, I don’t.” Alik points at you. “He does.”

You feel heat spread across your face, and it gets worse when Tartaglia looks your way, very intrigued. “Is that so?”

“I-I think I’m okay,” you state, “he and I, I mean I don’t know if we’re friends, b-but we get along fairly well! He’s partnered w-with my father, so I tend to run into him a lot, and we actually had tea the other day. Or, we were supposed to, but my parents decided to show up, so then after they left h-he and I had dinner so–”

“Pause,” Alik says, “you did not mention having dinner with him.”

“I didn’t?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I told you we still spent time after the ruined tea party,” you say, “does it matter if it was over dinner?”

“Pantalone doesn’t usually invite people to stay for dinner,” Tartaglia states, “I of all people should know.”

“He only did it because he wanted to discuss my book with me,” you explain, “but my parents’ intrusion hindered that. So he invited me to stay later.”

When Alik and Tartaglia look at you, they are both equally skeptical. You feel your face get hotter, and take another swig of your cold drink to cool yourself down. Then you remember it’s alcohol, so if anything it’s going to warm your face up even more. You stand up. “I’m going to the washroom,” you state, intending to splash water on your face and get out of the awkward situation you’ve put yourself in.

“Try not to bump into anyone else,” Tartaglia jokes, making your face burn hotter. When you walk away, you bump into a table, but that could just be the alcohol. When you disappear into the men’s washroom, Tartaglia turns back to Alik. “Pantalone certainly keeps interesting company when he wants to.”

Alik shrugs their shoulders. “I’ve only met him once, but I’ve known my poor sighted friend for years now, so I believe that.”

Tartaglia hums. He glances over his shoulder, seeing who and who isn’t listening. Most of the patrons are minding their business, and some are currently leaving the bar. Seeing the coast is clear, he turns back to Alik and lowers his voice to a whisper. “I assume your friend is happy about that, isn’t he?”

Alik chuckles. “What, ah, what gives you that impression?” 

“He’s not that subtle,” Tartaglia says, “and I might have overheard a little bit of your conversation before he ran into me.”

Alik lowers their voice so only the Harbinger can hear them. “Look, I’m not going to confirm anything, but true or not, it’s really important that we not let that sort of talk get around. As far as I’m aware, the Regrator might be fine with it, but his business partner, my friend’s father, is not.”

“Ah, I see.” Tartaglia takes a drink. “I can understand that. Rest assured, his secret is safe with me.”

Alik raises their brow. “That’s it? No blackmail or anything?”

Tartaglia chuckles. “No, that’s not how I do things. Ironically, that’s more the Regrator’s style, but he clearly likes your little friend.”

“Wait, do you mean ‘likes him’ in a friendly way, or…?”

Tartaglia smirks. “Who’s to say?” He takes another swig. “In all honesty, for someone who tends to drone on and on, he’s careful about his life outside the Fatui, or the bank. Though, I will say that even if I knew, Pantalone could and would have bought my silence.”

“Eh, it was worth a shot. You’d at least barter for a higher price, right?”

“I think he’d give me a satisfying amount on his first offer,” Tartaglia replies, “enough that I’d be smart enough not to push it.”

Alik tips their head back and pours the last bit of their drink into their mouth. They glance back at the bathroom, wondering when you’re going to come back. They jump a bit when Tartaglia places a hand on their shoulder, and motions for them to move in closer. Curious, they lean over a bit. Tartaglia cups his hands over their ear, and Alik shivers uncomfortably at the warmth of his breath.

“I’m not going to confirm anything,” he whispers, “but if your friend likes how things are progressing with Pantalone, I think you should let him keep doing whatever it is he’s doing.”

Alik pulls back a bit so Tartaglia isn’t whispering right in their ear. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. From what I hear, your friend is a ‘refreshing change’ compared to most,” Tartaglia continues, “so if he’s trying to get closer, he’s already on the way there if you catch my drift.”

The sound of a thud, a chair scraping, and a hissed curse is all Alik needs to hear to know you’re out of the bathroom. They look up and see you rubbing your knee, before you straighten up and begin making your way back to the table. Before you sit down, you look at the two and give them an odd look at their suspicious proximity.

“What’s all this?” you ask.

“Gossiping about your book,” Alik says.

“All the raunchy, lewd details,” Tartaglia adds.

You blush. “I told you I’m not adding that scene in.”

Tartaglia laughs. “I was just messing with you! You’re actually a smut writer?”

“No! Romance! Romance does not mean smut!”

“Not that he could write it, anyways,” Alik teases.

You sit down. “I wish I was blind already so I wouldn’t have to look at you.”

“Isn’t that a bit harsh?” Tartaglia comments.

“No, that’s pretty normal when he’s grouchy,” Alik says.

You throw back the rest of your drink, your now empty glass clacking on the table. “Well, this has been… one of the outings of all time. I think I’d better get going soon.”

“We haven’t been out that long,” Alik says.

“No, but if I stay out later, I’m probably going to have a couple more drinks,” you say, “and I don’t want to be writing hungover tomorrow. Plus, my mother will have a conniption if I’m out later than ten and the more I avoid that headache, the better.”

Alik sighs. “Fair enough. I have an afternoon meeting tomorrow. It won’t do me any favours if I’m groggy during it.”

“I suppose this is goodbye, then,” Tartaglia remarks. He offers you a hand, and you awkwardly take it. His grip is firm when he shakes your hand. “Thanks again for the drink, comrade! And for keeping me entertained for the evening.”

“M-My pleasure,” you say, “and, on that note, sorry again for bumping into you.”

Tartaglia watches as you and Alik put your coats back on and pay for your drinks. Alik trails behind you, and waves at him before stepping through the door and disappearing into the night. In the quiet bar, he takes his time finishing his drink before he bids the bartender a warm goodbye.

His cheeks and nose are a warm red, contrasting his white foggy breath. Soft snow crunches under his boot, the clusters of flakes falling around him glowing in the moonlight. Eventually, his feet bring him to a building he is all too familiar with by now. The doors are locked now, but he has been given a key to the back door, which he has been told time and time again to only use in case of emergencies. He knocks the snow off his boots as best as he can before he enters the bank properly.

With one of the only other people in the building being a heavily armed guard, Tartaglia’s movements are practically broadcasted throughout the bank as he makes his way upstairs. He’s loud enough that he doesn’t need to0 knock on the Regrator’s door. He makes it to the door and lifts his hand up and is told to “come in.”

He’s polite enough to shut the door behind him when he enters. He gives his superior Harbinger a smile. “Good evening, Regrator.”

“You’re late,” Pantalone states, keeping his eyes on the paperwork he’s scribbling away at.

“My apologies,” Tartaglia states, “I had a little run in earlier.”

“And that’s the third time I’ve heard you use that as an excuse for being late.”

“You make it sound like I’ve made tardiness a habit!”

“I can also smell the alcohol on you.”

Tartaglia takes a seat. “Now you’re making it sound like I’m a drunk. Besides, it’s not as if this is an official meeting.”

Finally, the Regrator sets his pen down and looks up at Tartaglia, shimmering stony eyes meeting dull baby blues. “I don’t care if this is a casual outing or a serious business deal, you know my expectations, Eleven.”

“I wish you were as forgiving to me as you are with that writer fellow,” Tartaglia comments, watching Pantalone’s reactions like a hawk.

Pantalone stills for a moment, and though his expression remains mostly unchanged, the inquisitive tilt and slight arch of an eyebrow is enough to satiate Tartaglia. “The writer? Why are you bringing him up?”

“Who do you think I had a run in with?”

Pantalone’s lips finally curl, and he just chuckles. “Ah, you’d think he’d learn after our first encounter. You’ve met him now?”

Tartaglia nods. “He bought me a drink as an apology, and we talked a little bit about you.”

“Good things, I hope?” Pantalone remarks, and while it’s easy to tell when he’s fishing for information, his intentions are currently hard to read.

“His friend and I were mostly teasing him about the suit,” Tartaglia replies, “but other than that, it was just small talk.”

“I see, I see…”

“Better than he does.”

“Mm, it’s funnier when he makes the joke.” Pantalone opens a drawer and pulls out couple documents stapled together, reading them as he shuts the drawer. “I received your latest proposal, and after doing the math, I found that for once you actually deserve more mora as opposed to less. Not as much as you would have gotten before your time in Liyue, but I think you’re wise enough to be happy about that.” With his eyes still on the paper, he reaches into another drawer and pulls out a jingling pouch. Without looking up, he hands it to Tartaglia, who accepts it graciously. “Don’t let this get to your head, and please don’t mention it to Dottore. Specifically Segment Kappa, he’s still upset I only gave him half the funding for his latest project, but I told him I needed a functional prototype by the end of the month if he wanted the rest of it.”

“I know the drill,” Tartaglia replies, “and isn’t Kappa in Fontaine right now?”

“Something about studying scuba gear, I don’t know, all I know is he’s not bothering me right now and quite frankly, it’s all I really care about. Now, do you have anything else to say or ask before I send you on your way?”

“I take it your four-thirty meeting went poorly?”

“Why do you ask?”

“There’s some blood splatter still above your left eyebrow.”

Pantalone stops and lifts his hand up to his forehead. He rubs at the spot above his eyebrow, and when he pulls his fingers back, he can see his finger tips have slightly tacky red residue on them. 

He clears his throat. “Goodnight, Eleven.”

“Goodnight, Regrator.”

[moonchild1]

AO3 List PT.2

here's part 2 of my favourite bts fics on ao3 ♡ if you have any of your own recommendations feel free to tell me I would love to hear them ♡ some contain smut so no minors do not interact find pt. 1 here...

s- smut a- angst f- fluff

all of btssmutgalore’s work (sadly they aren’t on tumblr anymore)

all of univsa work

all of personasintro's work

roommates with benefits by joonswhistle f s a

↬ You and Namjoon are roommates. You're both really horny one morning. So you come to an understanding:

1. It's not a regular thing.

2. It happens on the couch.

3. Kissing is allowed.

4. Condoms, always.And just like that, you're roommates with benefits

seoul underground by hunniejimins s a ft. jungkook

↬ You're a crime & corruption journalist for one of the most esteemed newspapers in Seoul currently investigating drug trafficking in Hong Kong. A hit is taken out on you and as a twisted stroke of luck, a member of a rival gang inadvertently saves you - Jeon Jungkook. He kidnaps you and brings you to the gang's kingpin, Kim Namjoon, who initially had plans to kill you, but a certain bracelet ends up buying you time. Things only get further complicated when they realize who you are and what you can offer them.

OR

Namjoon and Jungkook both fall in love with you and it's a mess, but monogamy is overrated anyway, right?

Covenant by fringesofsanity f s a

↬ You are betrothed to Kim Namjoon, the heir of a real estate mogul. To say that it was a fairytale romance would be erroneous. You’re instead loped in the sad tale of the rich and melancholy.

Faith by AndrastesChosen f s a

↬ It's time to let yourself believe in someone. You're probably an idiot for it, but you're going to put your faith in this man named Namjoon. (AKA You fall in love with underground rapper Namjoon and make a difficult choice so he can follow his dreams)

Partners by btssmutgalore f s a

↬ As a part of a literature assignment, you get paired up with Kim Namjoon, a guy you’ve never even heard of.

the wedding arrangement by sugalights f s a

↬ You are in love with your best friend, the only man who matters, Kim Seokjin. Unfortunately, he's just gotten engaged to someone who isn’t you. Even more unfortunately, he expects you to help plan the wedding alongside Kim Namjoon, his other best friend and, based on your first meeting, just another judgemental jerk. Putting aside your distaste for the sake of your friend’s happiness, you both set about giving Seokjin the wedding of his dreams. Following a rough and satisfying affair at the caterer’s, you strike an unusual deal: you and Namjoon will be enemies with benefits until the wedding is over. And after six months of wedding planning, you both just might learn that weddings aren’t usually the end, but a brand new beginning.

formula for love by bluesxde f s a

↬ newly single and in the midst of a bitter divorce, with a custody battle thrown in, chemistry professor kim seokjin tries not to fall in love with the new library assistant. and fails, horribly

The Stranger by btssmutgalore f s a

↬ When your plane hits turbulence, you start panicking and tell some of your biggest secrets to the attractive stranger sitting next to you.

Before Your Very Eyes by vyduan f s a ft. myg poly au

↬ After decades of being friends, Y/N finally realizes just how attractive Yoongi and Seokjin are and wonders why she never noticed. Except, Seokjin might be getting back with an ex and Yoongi is a permanent fuckboy. Is Y/N just desperate to get laid or does she love them? (And if she loves them, is she too late?) Oh, and also, THEY WERE ROOMMATES (but there are three beds)

Amalthea by Daechwitatamic s a

↬ You can count on two things in life. One: that your lifelong best friend Minji will always be there for you, in your corner, your brightest star. Two: that you'll never be free from her older brother Seokjin's orbit - the gravitational pull is just too strong.

Paris For A Day by automnesleaves f a

↬ On his last stop of his European tour to spread Korean culture, Kim Seokjin, the South Korean president's son, plans to escape his duties for a day to enjoy the sights of Paris with your help.

In other words: a slight adaptation of Roman Holiday, one of my favorite romantic films.

arranged by obiwrites f s a

↬ If you thought entering an arranged marriage with the person you love would be a dream, you were in for a rude awakening. Jung Hoseok was far from the doting husband you’d dreamed of and most of it could be chalked up to the fact that he was in love with his best friend. And you are without a shadow of a doubt, not her. But what happens when Hoseok starts to realize he doesn’t want you to be her? That there might be more than meets the eye with you?

piece by piece by underthejoon f s a ft seokjin

↬ a collection of drabbles where your love life is muddied up by two men – the one you love and the one that loves you.

tip 143 (for ∞ seconds of love) by minlouvre f s

↬ Even though he is everything you find attractive in a man, your friend and co-worker Jung Hoseok is just exactly that - a friend and co-worker. For some reason, you have never found yourself attracted to him even though all the girls and guys around you go absolutely crazy for him. But that all changes for you one night while scrolling through Heart2Heart, a sex live cam website...

the december of our adulthood by vyduan a

↬ Jimin collapsed all over you and the middle console from his seat in a fit of giggles and did his best to tease a smile back onto your face. “Thanks for picking me up so early on a Saturday morning, Y/N. You’re the best friend a guy could ever have.” Even after all these years, you couldn’t control the dip of disappointment at his words. It wasn’t that you didn’t love being Jimin’s best friend. It was more that you knew you would never be anything more. You grunted in acknowledgment and pushed the sadness down, burying it under years of practice and half truths. You would be content with what you had. You would be satisfied with the love Jimin was willing and able to give. You were not entitled to anything more. It was enough. It was enough. It was never enough.

[lastofthelovesongs]

going through all my songs on itunes (because for some reason it decided that every word is supposed to be capitalized and I will not let it stand and am manually fixing it) and have come across songs titled "It's Time"

I have 13

[cutedice]

Luffy, Usopp + Buggy w/ an so (gn) who is SO INCREDIBLY SILLY

Like the so is basically a jester. a little fella. just mindless entertaining fun 24/7 with this guy.

((Anon. You are my new favorite anon ever.))

When the S/O is Silly!

Characters: Luffy, Usopp, Buggy Warnings: None, fluff.

Everything is GN!

LUFFY

- He's all for the goofy behavior.

- Seriously, if you can make him smile he's 100% already vibing with you and you make him smile constantly.

- He's always ready to play with you or just listen to you tell jokes.

- People already compare him to the sun, and he never really understood that until he met you.

- He also 100% has a prank war going with you. It's endearing at first but now it's an actual war and the other Strawhats have been picking sides.

- So far you're winning, much to his annoyance. But, he can't pout for too long when he hears your laugh and looks over to be met with such a warm expression on your face.

- If you want an easy way to get to him when he is in a mood, physical comedy gets him a lot. He's a sucker for slapstick. Slip on a banana peel for the man.

- He'll always make sure you aren't hurt afterwards, so no worries! He just... has to stop laughing first.

- You can pout at him all you want after, but it won't do much.

- "C'mon, (Y/N)! You just- and- and the noise you made--" and he's hunched right back over losing his mind.

- Come on, how could you stay mad at him? Well, you can't! Because he finds it so funny, he tries to replicate it so you can see what he saw.

- Ends with you both lying on the deck, cheeks red and heads fuzzy from the lack of air, but genuinely enjoying each others company so much.

- Luffy wouldn't trade the feeling for the world.

USOPP

- Let's be real, he appreciates comedy. And, while he loves childish jokes and acts he also enjoys most other forms (except Robin's).

- But he loves yours!

- He makes a lot of self deprecating jokes at himself, it's his fall back and, while he doesn't do it enough to be concerning, he also doesn't hold back.

- But, none of those jokes last long when you're around!

- Cheesy pickup lines always get him to laugh. Sometimes you might get a blush or a bashful turn-away, but he's always laughing and fighting back chuckles.

- He loves hearing you add onto his tall tales. Commit to this man's bits!! He will love you!

- Get's even more entertaining if you act it out with impressions, play it up with him! Be nerds! Drama kids!

- You can't play any acting game together because you just wind up laughing too much to participate.

- One of his secret favorite things you do to make him laugh is when you sit in his little corner with him and purposely put something together wrong.

- "Y/N, pfft, I- I asked you to make a cube! How- how'd you make a triangle? Where- where's the other piece?"

- This situation is a win all around because it makes him laugh, he gets an ego boost in helping you, and if you really don't know how to build stuff or don't want to then he'll never know!

BUGGY

- As a clown himself, Buggy has been known to appreciate the finer forms of comedy.

- So, needless to say if you throw a pie at someone you're already a star in his book.

- Okay, he might be a little more mature than that and the pie might have to be well timed, but a well time pie throw is still a win! Really, if your timing is pretty good you'll land most jokes with him.

- Not to say everything needs to be timed. Sometimes silly things just happen with him.

- He's a walking shenanigans magnet and if you can double down on that and make it a positive thing for him he'll adore you.

- Plus, you so graciously taking the butt of the captain's jokes and pranks has the rest of his crew and Alvida praising you (mostly due to their mild annoyances to them).

- Buggy does pull pranks by the way. Constantly. But, he always, without fail, get's flustered when you catch him trying to set one up or mid-lie.

- Full body, red faced, you swear you can hear steam coming out of his ears. But, he always ends up laughing with you afterwards. It's funny once he looks back on the scene after a few minutes of denial and he can admit that much at least.

- And, you never laugh at him. Well, not in a bad way. He gets defensive, he's got a sensitive ego and he's greedy; but you only see him as... well, your fun partner in crime!

- That's right. If you've got the confidence to go head-to-head with him then you're officially his partner in crime! You don't really get a choice in this, he'll drag you along with his plans.

- Of course, he takes all the credit for any joke he might pull on the crews. He doesn't want you to get in trouble. Plus, he gets mild entertainment watching them treat you like your innocent.

- It's like having a spy on the inside as you come back to him with everyone's plans and schedules, and you two have a late night planning session.

- "So, if Alvida and Mohji are on the island that leaves--" he turns to face you for some help only to see you mid air plane throw at his head.

- You maintain eye contact for a moment before he grins and suddenly a hand is on your side, tickling you into surrender. "Hah! Try and best me again I dare you!"

[sturnioloszn]

ANACHRONISM - M.S

summary; you didn't believe in "right person, wrong time" until you fell in love with matt... and it was the wrong time.

warnings; angst, arguing, crying, panic attack, breaking up, etc.

a/n; guys... y is this lowk my situation rn...lmfaooo let me not; this fic was inspired by this suggestion. hope u enjoy this and feel free to send thru suggestions for future fics!

The crisp air of the autumn night engulfed me as I stepped out of my house; my heels crushing every crunchy, orange leaf I step on. I pull open the door of the car sitting in my driveway, being greeted with the familiar smell of vanilla.

"Hey baby, you look so beautiful," Matt compliments, leaning in to give me a kiss on the cheek as I pull the car door firmly shut, prohibiting the cold air from entering.

"Thank you, you look sexy yourself," I reply, giving him a little stare down before bringing his lips to me again. The warmth of his lips on mine will always bring me comfort like no other. As we part from each other, he pulls the car out of my driveway and begins the drive to the restaurant.

Matt had made reservations to this fancy restaurant that neither of us have been to, and when asked the occasion, he just replied with 'can't I treat my girl?'.

I found it suspicious that he had planned an evening out, considering his type of date night was always takeaway and a movie at home, but I wouldn't question a reason to doll up.

The drive was filled with a pleasant silence, the only sound that could be heard was the soft playing of music in the background and our slow breathing.

We eventually reached the restaurant, and as we walked in, we were greeted with soft, ambient lighting, small circular tables scattered on the floor, and the aroma of delicious food wafting through the air.

A nice, older woman showed us to our reserved table and we took our seats opposite from eachother.

"This is so nice, baby," I whisper, making eye contact with Matt, who displayed a small smile.

"Only the best for the love of my life," he smiles, looking at me in awe. I truly can't believe I got so lucky with an amazing guy like Matt. He was truly something out of a fairy tale, almost too good to be true.

A few moments pass, and a woman comes over to take our orders. While waiting for our food we entertain small talk, talking about our day, what we're going to do later, the usual.

"Remember when you asked what the occasion for this dinner was?" Matt asks, a more serious look replacing his joyful one.

"Yeah, you said it was just a date, right?" I question. He reaches his hand over the table to hold mine and gently carresses his thumb over the back of my hand. I see him gulp slightly before speaking again.

"Not quite. I have something to tell you," he says, becoming completely serious now. Just as he says this, the food is brought to our table. We thank the waiter and agreed to finish the conversation until after we finish our meals

Tension hangs in the air as we eat, and I find it difficult to swallow my food with the anxiety building in my stomach. After what feels like an eternity, I finally take the last bite of my food.

I look at Matt again to encourage him to continue our previous conversation, but he doesn't catch on. "So... what were you gonna say earlier?" I prompt, causing his eyes to lock with mine.

"You have to promise that you'll stay calm, okay?" He says, looking deeply into my eyes, a worried look etched on his beautiful face. I could almost hear my heart beating out of my chest. Whatever he was about to say, he needed to hurry and spit it out.

I give him a small nod, agreeing to his conditions, and forcing him to continue.

"I'm moving away from Boston," he says, breaking eye contact with me and looking down with what I can only identify as shame?

"What?" I ask, feeling like the air is being knocked out from my lungs. Matt stays silent, not daring to look back at my face. "What?" I repeat, slightly louder now, as if him not hearing me was the problem.

"Me, Nick, and Chris are moving to LA," he clarifies, toying with the hem of his ironed shirt. I stare at him in disbelief. This had to be some kind of sick joke.

A string of questions leaves my mouth without a second thought, "LA? Why the hell are you moving to LA? For how long? Why? What's in LA?". I shake my head, trying to understand.

"You said you'd stay calm," he reminds me. Calm? How does he want me to stay calm about this?

"So how long are you going there for?" I ask, trying to lower the volume of my voice; I know how much Matt hates causing a scene in public.

"Permanently. We're gonna live there, buy a house and everything..." he says, trying to force his eyes up to mine. By now, my jaw is hung low, and my eyebrows are furrowed. I scan his face for a hint of humour, but there's none. I stay in complete silence, denying the words that just left his mouth.

"Can you say something, anything...please," he begs.

"What about us?" I ask, fulfilling his request. I'm in college, I can't just drop out to chase after him in LA?

"I have to give you your best chance, and that's not with me," he explains, his expression softening completely. My best chance? What the fuck is he talking about?

"I don't- I don't understand," I say, shaking my head in denial again. This all felt so surreal. One minute, my boyfriend of two years is taking me to dinner, and the next he's telling me he's leaving me?

"I don't want you to wait on me, baby, I want you to live your life and have fun without me feeling like a burden to you," he continues to talk but tears are already flooding my eyes and rolling down my cheeks. I pull my hand away from his to wipe the tears that won't stop flowing.

"But you're not a burden. I love you. I love you, Matt. I'll do anything. Please." I plead. The table near us hears our small commotion and turns to look at us, but I don't care.

"Baby, don't make this harder," he says, tears of his own forming but never falling.

I sit in my seat at a loss for words. I bring my tongue to wet my lips before trying to scrape words together to form half-sentences. "So this- this is it?" I ask, letting a few sobs escape my lips.

He remains quiet, so I fill the silence in the air with my words instead. "Why are you doing this? Am I not enough for you? I thought we had something? Something real? What can I do to make you stay? I'll do anything,"

But my words are empty to him because he's already made his mind up, and I'm not changing it.

"It's for work. Our YouTube channel is blowing up, and we're giving this LA thing a shot to see if we'll get somewhere, and of course, you're enough for me, b-"

"So stay. Stay with me. Stay in Boston. What about your parents, Nate, Mikayla, ME?!" I cut him off, getting progressively louder as I speak, waiting for him to answer all of my questions.

"I'm sorry," is all he manages to force out. I scoff. I can't believe any of this right now. The tears are still flowing down my face as I grab my purse and coat while heading for the exit of the restaurant. I see him also standing up, trying to follow me but is caught by the waiter with the check.

I take the opportunity to make my escape. The restaurant isn't far from my house, it's only about a twenty-five minute walk but in heels it feels more like ten years.

I'm rushing home; the harsh wind of the night hitting my skin feels like shards of glass. The combination of my wet face from the tears and the wind makes my face feel numb and lifeless.

My lungs constrict, and I find it difficult to breathe. I try my best to take deep breaths, but it feels like without Matt, I can't breathe. He was my air; and without him, I'm hopeless.

I finally reached my house, disappointment filling me from the fact that Matt didn't find or catch up to me. My house somehow felt colder than outside, with the darkness and shallowness of it eating me alive. Walking to my bedroom, I kick my heels off my sore feet and crawl into my bed.

I replayed the conversation that happened moments prior in my head, and I can't believe he's leaving me, as if our two years together meant nothing to him.

My phone lights up and pings non-stop for several minutes, but I know they're probably messages from Matt. I don't bother looking at the texts and turn my phone straight onto dnd.

Emotions begin to cloud my thoughts, and I can't keep the tears at bay once again. This time, I let them fall freely, along with the sobs I desperately tried to hold back in the restaurant.

I can't help but reminisce on the past two years. Every date, every first, every ounce of trust I placed in him, all gone, like nothing. I hugged myself tighter and let myself sink into the mattress, wishing a void would randomly open up and swallow me whole.

I never used to believe in meeting the right person at the wrong time, but now that I knew what it felt like to have Matt and lose him I can confidently say 'right person, wrong time' is infact real.

I keep crying until my eyelids become unbearably heavy, and I can't take the weight of them any longer, letting them close.

-

I woke up in the hours of the early afternoon, my dress wrinkled up due to the fact that I slept in it, and my makeup smeared on my pillow. I instantly go to view Matt's texts from last night. There were easily a hundred texts and about fifty calls.

'Where r u?'

'I can't find u'

'I'm sorry'

'Pls let's js talk abt this baby'

*missed call*

*missed call*

All the texts were very similar until one of them caught my eye. It was a picture. I opened it to find a screenshot of a boarding pass to LA for Monday. Was he leaving this Monday? I double-checked it, and surely enough, it was.

I decided not to reply to any of the texts even though I wanted nothing more than to text him as if all of this was just a bad dream. But it wasn't. This was my reality.

-

The weekend flew by, and it just detailed me looking at pictures of our expired relationship and listening to depressing music, all while bawling my eyes out until they were red and puffy.

It was now Monday, and I dragged my sad ass out of bed because I decided that I had to see him one last time before he was out of my reach for good.

After I made a decent effort to look presentable and cover the bags under my eyes, I drove to the airport. Walking into the busy building, I analysed the screenshot of Matt's boarding pass and realised his gate was halfway across the airport. Shit. His flight was leaving in ten minutes.

I rushed across the airport, weaving in and out of people, dodging suitcases and trolleys. Reaching the gate, I'm out of my breath but still looking around to see if I was too late. I finally spot my brunette boy about to pass the gate and I hurry to him.

"Matt, wait!" I exclaim, making him stop in his track and quickly turn around. His eyes widen, completely shocked by the fact that I was standing right in front of him.

"What're you doing here?" He asks. He had noticeable bags under his eyes, too, and his hair was messier than usual. I guess I'm not the only one who hasn't been able to sleep recently.

"I had to see you one last time before you'd leave me for good," I say, giving a sad smile. He brings one of his hands up to cradle the side of my face, and I melt into his touch, knowing this will be the last time.

"Listen to me, I am so sorry for how last minute I told you about everything; that wasn't fair to you. And I'm sorry I'm not able to be the man that you deserve because, fuck, you deserve someone as amazing and as kind and as smart as you. And you have made me the happiest I've ever been these past two years, and I wouldn't trade that time in for the world. You have made me who I am, and I will forever be so grateful to have experienced your love. Maybe in another life we'll meet again and get it right, but for now, I can just pray that we find our way back to each other. I love you so much, baby," he says, the words leaving his mouth at the speed of light and by the time he's done speaking, tears are falling from both of us.

I lunge forward, burying my head into his chest and letting his hoodie absorb my tears. My arms are wrapped around his torso as tight as possible, and I don't want to let go because I know that if I do, I won't be able to hold him again.

"I gotta go, my love," he says, trying to tear our bodies apart. I finally drop my arms, and I'm left sobbing. Before turning around and leaving, he places a small kiss on my forehead. "We'll see each other again, I promise," he speaks before spinning around and heading through the gate.

He was gone. My perfect half was gone. Forever.

a/n; damnnn. also, I have a part 2 in mind for this if you guys would like (where the 'ending' is a bit happier lmfao) js lmk what you'd like to see! anyway, thanks for readinggg, love youuuu! <3

Taglist; @idrk2292 @aalimux @aaliscutie @045696 @forgottxen @mattsturniolover @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut

[ddesfleurs]

It hurts to love you, but I still love you.

chapter 5

summary: He could never truly be hers, she could never live a full and happy life with him and it caused her so much pain as she thought about the life and happiness that was denied to them.

warnings: cheat, angst, anger, melancholy, light smut, mention of sex, fluff

notes: Hey guys. I know it's been a loooong time. I don't even know where to start, so many things happened during the time I spent away from here that I simply couldn't write but I never stopped thinking about this story fondly. I recently logged into my Ao3 and Tumblr accounts, where I publish this story, and I came across several messages, comments and expressions of encouragement and affection coming from those of you who followed and read this story. And this flooded my heart with love and gratitude for you in such a way that I made it my goal to write and publish another chapter of this story after submitting and defending my college graduation thesis. And yes, I basically finished college, I'm going to have my official ceremony in December. So here we are, another chapter of this story that I started a long time ago and that thanks to your encouragement I am resuming it. This is the first time in years that I've written something that isn't academic, so I don't know if you'll like it as much as before, but here it is. Thank you for all the affection. As previously mentioned, English is not my first language. Good reading!!

Grace was sitting on a park bench, she watched people passing by, children running, life happening while taking in some late afternoon sun. The leaves fell slowly from the trees and the wind moved her hair in a very contemplative way, Grace felt life reaching her.

It was the first time she had returned to New York since leaving Michael and it would be a lie to say that she wasn't worried about one of her employees discovering her, but it had been a considerable amount of time since she had left him and honestly she thought that he wouldn't still be after her after all this time, considering he had a wife and now, possibly, three beautiful children.

She missed Michael. Missed his presence, his touches, the hugs, kisses, moments and vows exchanged. She missed everything and everything reminded her of him. Grace looked back and didn't quite know where everything had gone wrong in her life, she assumed that things had started to spiral into disaster after she agreed to be the lover of a married man who is part of the mafia. God knows how much she regretted it, how guilty she felt, how much she wished things weren't like this. But it couldn't have been any different. She loved Michael with all her heart and from the first moment they were together she knew she would be his until the end of her days.

Now that truth had a bitter taste in her mouth. She wished she didn't love him, she wished she hadn't gotten involved with him, she wished she had done everything differently. But, God, how she misses him. There wasn't a day that went by where she didn't think about just going back to him or at least making a call and hearing his voice again.

But Grace couldn't do that. She could never have the man she loves because he was a married man. And that was why she had left him, he could never truly be hers, she could never live a full and happy life with him and it caused her so much pain as she thought about the life and happiness that was denied to them.

When Kay knocked on her door that day it was as if her little fairy tale had come to an end. The woman brought Grace back to reality in the harshest way possible. Breaking the spell of her love story.

Grace knew she was wrong to get involved with Michael, and she knew Kay had every right to be angry with her. But it was still hard to hear her words, the news that she was pregnant with their third child while Grace was denied any possible romantic future and suffered from the knowledge that she would never be the first in Michael's life, that she could never have his children. She would always be his little mistress. His diversion, something to pass the time when he was bored with the routine at home. And what future would she have if she continued in that relationship? She would only hurt herself even more.

It was for these reasons that she decided to leave. Grace decided to move away from Michael, putting an end to their relationship and, consequently, doing the right thing for all those involved in this story.

However, even though it was the right thing, this decision hurt she every day. Every day she thought about Michael and the times they spent together. She remembered in particular a day that remained in her memory, a special memory.

They had gone to the cinema, somehow Michael had managed to get a session for just the two of them. He knew that Grace loved doing any kind of thing with him and he knew that she loved it when he surprised her with romantic gestures and he, in love as he was, made a point of always winning her over every day.

So, he found a way for them to have a real romantic night, all according to the script. Cinema and dinner. And for her it was one of the happiest days of her life.

The film chosen was Rebecca (1940) by Hitchcock, one of her favorites, a little old, but she liked it because she identified a little with the character. For your sweet and naive but at the same time kind way. Identified mainly with the way the protagonist fell madly in love with an older man who had countless secrets that she felt she would never know in their entirety.

Grace watched the film with pleasure, eyes shining with satisfaction not only for the film but also for Michael's romantic gesture, he knew how to please her and these small moments fueled her love for him, creating deep roots in her heart.

As they left the movie theater, Michael said they were going to walk a few blocks to the Italian restaurant for dinner.

"How did you get a movie theater just for us?" She asked as she lightly squeezed his arm, giving him a bright smile.

"You know, I have my tricks." He replied with satisfaction and gave her a wink. "Did you like it?"

"So much, Michael! You don't know how happy I am with you, how much I love all the hours we share. I love you." She finished with a sigh, as if the last statement was a confession.

He stopped walking and turned her to face him, looking deep into her beautiful eyes. Michael passed his hand over Grace's face, a gentle caress that sent the feeling of love and tenderness straight to her heart.

"Gosh, I really adore you, Grace. You are the light of my life." He said softly as he looked at her as if Grace was the most precious thing in the world, and somewhat of a coward for not having the courage to tell her he loved her.

She responded by pulling him for a shy kiss there, in the middle of the street, but nothing mattered to her, just her love and how she felt when she was with Michael.

He returned the kiss eagerly, holding her waist and neck. The two separated smiling, they didn't want to cause a scene on the street. They continued the short path towards the restaurant like two young people in love, as if there was no consequences behind their actions, as if they were free to love each other as they wanted to be.

Grace smiled as she recalled this memory. How she missed Michael, his kisses, his words, his smell, just everything about him. Another memory invaded her mind as she looked at her friends sitting on the picnic blanket while playing with little John.

They were in their apartment having a calm and slow day as they cuddled each other and played games like chess. Grace wasn't very interested in it but Michael liked it and for him she tried to be a good opponent. Obviously she always ended up losing the matches, but that didn't matter to her, she liked doing anything with him.

After losing another game, Grace stood up in a huff and said, half jokingly, as if she were angry:

"This is the last time we play chess. It's impossible to beat you! I'm already upset from losing so much." She said with a huff as she rolled her eyes and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

"You just need to pay more attention, honey. It's not that hard." Michael said as he got up and went to meet her, finding it very funny the childish way she got angry and rolled her eyes when she lost.

"Mike, could you let me win for once." She said pouting.

"That's not fair." He said laughing, "You're such a bad loser, honey."

"Just like you!" Grace stuck her tongue out at Michael, making a face that he found particularly adorable.

He approached her as she leaned back against the counter.

"I love your way, you know? I love the way you make me feel lighter and happier. I love the way you make me smile. I love the way you act with me, our jokes, our moments we share. " He said and pulled her into an eager hug, tightening his arms around her. "I don't want to lose you. Grace, you are the light of my life."

Michael nuzzled his nose around Grace's neck and then kissed her eagerly, as if he was afraid she would disappear in the blink of an eye when she was right there in front of him.

Grace woke up from her memories with the voices of Nancy and Carolyn calling her. She looked at her friends and that very cute little baby and gave a beautiful smile, trying to sweep the memories out of her mind and focus on the present while not knowing what was in store for her future.

She got up from the bench and went to sit with her friends on the towel where they played with John. Grace approached the baby who gave her a cute smile, still without teeth. Picking him up, she rocked him close to her, thinking about how children are innocent and very cute little human beings.

"He adores me." She said to her friends as she gave a smile and bounced John lightly in her arms. 

"Of course he does, he already knows who will spoil him for the rest of his life." Nancy said, taking the toy dinosaur from John and placing it in front of the baby.

"He's really adorable." Carolyn stated looking at Nancy with a smile on her lips and then observing Grace with the baby in her lap.

From afar, still in the park, Michael watched them without believing that he was just a few steps away from Grace and his son in her arms. The son he didn't even know existed until recently.

Michael was frozen watching the scene: you with the baby on your lap, laughing while talking to your friends, the wind gently hitting you resulting in your hair being a little disheveled. He felt so many things when he saw Grace, even from afar, that he couldn't take action. Soon he, who had always been a man of actions, was paralyzed in front of the scene he was watching.

Seeing her after so long apart reignited the pain of his loss. Seeing her there with her baby broke his heart, the prospect that she didn't feel confident telling him she was pregnant. It was all his fault. He who had been weak in not having had the courage to face reality. For not admitting to himself that his marriage had ended a long time ago, for not getting divorced, for not staying with Grace, the woman he loved.

But now, looking at her and the baby, he was determined to win back her love. And not only that: he wanted a family with her, his son, Mary and Anthony. He wanted to prove to Grace that he was capable of fixing everything and giving her the life she deserved, a happy family.

[bowieandqueen11]

Luis Sera Having A Crush On You Would Include...

Request: I don't have anything specific to request but I totally 100% would die for some spicy Luis headcanons!!!

Ngl I would climb this man like a tree so I kind of expanded this into some cute and spicy ones as well, I hope you enjoy as much as I enjoyed writing these! ;)

This takes quite a long time to write, so if you enjoy, please leave a comment/ reblog, it really helps me!!

Warning: some spicy headcanons, some sexual allusions, mentions of guns, mentions of injury and blood, mentions of smoking, some light swearing!

(I do not own Resident Evil or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @stdismas.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

When you radioed Hunnigan to let her know you may drop off the map because you had been tied up, you had no idea that the words would become so literal.

Groggily waking up to a firm back pressed against your own and rapid unintelligible Spanish babbling in your ear wasn't what you first expected when you and Leon had touched down in Valdelobos for the mission, but after the morning you've had you're little surprised. As you feel around your wrists to try and find out if you've been bound or chained to the ceiling of this quaint little sub-room, you're pleasantly surprised that said annoyed person behind you hasn't thrown an axe at you yet. It was only when you pulled at steel chain and the man suddenly stopped talking with a 'woAH' to come flying into your face that events started to become a little more unusual.

'Good morning sleeping beauty, ha!' You finally have full view of the man whose swinging before you, the toes of his dusty boots barely touching the ground and the firm chest held behind his tight leather jacket swaying uneasily against your own. Whiskey coloured curls hide inquisitive eyes, and as soon as he realises you're conscious he abandons whatever futile attempts he was trying in tugging off his cuffs to instead grin fully at you. 'Can I give you a kiss now, and you'll turn me into a prince?' He wiggles his eyebrows at you, wetting his bottom lip with the edge of his tongue as his body bounces against you again.

You yank at the chain, doing your best to keep your face professional as the wheels bounce over the beam and the man comes knocking into your face, held up only by your upper arm strength and a leg you wrap courteously around his quads to keep him balanced. 'You're mixing up your fairy tales. You telling me you're a frog?' You let him drop to the ground with an unceremonious thud as you break free, and Luis has to pretend, with his ass handed to him on the cobbled floor, that as you walk past him he didn't enjoy every single second of that.

When you finally find Leon desperately sifting through your stolen belongings in the next room over, the relief immediately floods his eyes as he pulls you into a tight hug. When he sees Luis following you like a puppy from over your shoulder, though, you can hear him sigh against your shoulder. Said shoulder which soon had Luis' hand firmly pressed against it.

'He won't stop touching my shoulder', you groan to Leon.

'I know. He does that', he replies with a tighter squeeze.

Luis was incredibly good at making your next meeting seem like just happenstance.

It wasn't as if he had scoped you out for miles down the rocky tracks, his heart hammering in times to the bells that rang out from his old church. It wasn't as if he had 'borrowed' a pair of binoculars from his new found friend Ada, and had watched you bring down Del Lago with an embarrassingly loud cheer and punch of the air. It wasn't as if he had been sitting leisurely behind this boat house playing with his lighter for half an hour, brain torn between getting back to his lab, and his heart's plea to see you again.

You're less than astonished when the man jumps out at you with his arms out at his sight, immediately cocky when he spots your magnum raised up towards his face. 'Now now, my princess. If you shoot me now, then how will we ever transform this magical kingdom, ey?' You're even less surprised when he wraps an arm around your shoulder, murmuring into your ear about how he's going to be like some knight in shining armour as you holster your gun and let him lead you further off into the wilderness of the village.

He's constantly asking you questions, though, when the two of you brave a stop to take stock of your ammo reserves and to charter the maps Hunnigan sent over to you. Luis just perches next to you on a free boulder, gently rubbing his pointer finger and thumb over his jawline, and watching you with something akin to enthrallment rising through his weary face. Although he tries to make them sound flirty, you can see the seriousness in his usual light-hearted expressions, beginning to become aware of his subtleties: in the way his eyes crinkle for a moment when the words leave his lip, or the give away of his leather shifting as his fingers clench where they're crossed underneath his armpits.

You shake it off as you answer him honestly, not realising that this is the first time since he was a child that anyone had ever talked to him as him. Not as a runaway. Not as a profit. Not as a monster. Not as a threat. Not as a joke. Just as... Luis. Something tight clenched in his heart, and as he nodded along to your answer, he found himself beginning to flush at how nice it felt.

It becomes a running joke between the two of you that whenever a villager tries to hit you with a lit torch, he asks if you 'have a light?'

Speaking of, when the two of you end up by one of the rundown boathouses littering the lake side, he leans his leg back against one of the boards to light a smoke. With a confused tilt of his head, his eyes suddenly widen when you stop his hand from playing with his lighter, stealing the cigarette out of his mouth. Instead, you cup your hands around the knuckles of his larger ones and lower your head down to light the end of the cigarette.

He fidgets, a knowing look on his face as he tries to hide how turned on he's become, how incredibly tight his jeans suddenly seem to feel when you let go and take a drag. Before he can reach for your lips to steal it back, though, you throw the cigarette into the lake with a wink, leaving him feeling only all the more turned on.

But Luis is also incredibly protective of you!! When you're being surrounded by hordes of angry plagas villagers in a derelict cabin, the man is constantly jumping in your way with all guns ablazing. It starts to frustrate you how, without any formal training or without any bloody protective gear he keeps shielding you from pitchforks with only his pecs to protect him. He just laughs, pulling you behind him and throwing off your aim as he holds a shard of broken bookcase out in front of him like a lance. Whenever you climb the stairs to kick down some of the ladders on the second floor, Luis is hot on your heels like your own personal talkative shadow. Thankfully though, while you were busy trying to lift the bed and shove it back against the shards of a newly broken window, Luis was there to notice a villager's head splat open and tentacles sprout out of it right behind your back. With a cry, he pounces himself at them, narrowly avoiding you getting a lash to the face as he uses his weight to knock them off the balcony.

You repay him by sliding your leg forward and managing, just in time, to stop his arms waving and his staggering legs from falling over the edge as well by grabbing the collar of his jacket and hauling him back onto you.

'See senorita?', he asks between pants, the two of you collapsed down onto the floor with Luis lying between your legs. He lets his head leisurely loll down onto the joint at the top of your thigh, letting his open palm fall over your knee. 'Nothing to it!' You roll your eyes, but even he notices the relief flood through your uneasy body when he uses his free hand to reach up and touch your face. At first you jump, not expecting the warm buzzing feeling of his fingertips holding your chin, but you slowly relax as he tilts your head back and forth. There's an intensity in his eyes that you haven't seem from him before, as he swipes a bead of blood away from the cut on your lower lip without a second thought. A kind of fury, but also... a hint of guilt racking through his head as he makes sure you're alright.

You can bet your ass though that as soon as you heft him back up onto his feet, he refuses to go out the door. Instead, he hops up on top an antique wine barrel, and pouts his lips at you. He whines like a kicked puppy until you agree to fix up his wounds now, and to kiss them all better.

'Absolutely not', you say through a smile, coming to stand in between his legs. He goes uncharacteristically still when you reach up to cradle his face, an almost imperceptible huff of air hitching through his nostrils when you tilt his cheek further into your palm. He rests his head heavily, the corner of his lips twitching up as he rubs his stubble against your skin and tickles you. 'Cut it out or I'll be sewing your eyelid to your ass', you warn him, pointing a needle you managed to worm out of your side pack at his nose. He just smiles, watching you work as if you were made of pure starlight itself. As you finish off by crushing up some green herb, you can feel his thick thighs begin to move tighter against your legs, effectively trapping you against his hip.

'I-I'm going to need you to open your mouth', you state, trying your damn best to not give Luis the satisfaction of hearing your voice go hoarse.

'If that's what you've wanted me to do, mi amorcito, all you had to do was ask.' Although he cocks his head at you, he can't help but drop his eyes, desire burning through every electric inch of his body as he drops his bottom lip open. It feels like an eternity as you gingerly press the stalks of herb down onto the point of his tongue, not helped by the way Luis' irises are trained solely onto your own for every second. You don't mean to, but your pointer finger brushes against the plumpness of his lip as you pull away, and you turn your head away with a furious blush when Luis swipes at the spot, leaving a wet trail against it.

You turn to pack up and leave, but he suddenly stands up and grabs onto your arm tightly. He leans sideways until he's almost over you, his brow furrowed as he searches your eyes for an answer he's terrified to find. 'Hey, I won't leave you here, you know? I promise, I'm not going to leave again.'

'Why are you doing this?', you ask tensely. 'Why are you following me?'

He swallows thickly, weighing up whether to confess his truth to you or not. After a moment, he sighs, too afraid at what you might do. 'You are a guest! It would be rude not to take you on a tour of all the hotspots in the village.' Although you roll your eyes, you can't help the way you start to smile at his cheesiness. He begins chuckling too, but you don't notice the way the tips of his ears burn with a crimson flush as he spins his pistol and places it back into his holster, looking up at the ceiling uncertainly.

When it starts raining, he immediately offers you his jacket, quick to unzip it and place it over your head. That is, until you elbow him in the ribs once he asks for 'some of your clothing in return, of course ;)'.

Since you've grown to warily trust the man, you believe him when he leads you into a dank smelling cavern underneath some of the huts, telling you that he miraculously knows of a way to move underneath the monsters undetected. Which is how you found yourself climbing up a well in a densely shrouded area by an incredibly sticking looking altar, running away from a man wielding a chainsaw, and sitting on a very content looking Luis shoulders as you clambered into the musty attic of what used to be the village chief's manor. Flicking your torch through the gloom, you were surprised to step on a cracked frame. Picking it up, you were even more surprised when you ran your thumb over the grime to clear the image of a young boy sitting next to his grandfather. A young boy, who even at that age had such strikingly distinctive... familiar characteristics. A young boy who, as you placed the photo down on a cabinet and began to flick through the pages of a withered journal lying next to it, had been through such grief and horror that you were amazed he was so nonchalantly peering through the rafters next to it.

No, no. That wasn't it. He was good, you had to give him that. He must have spent a long time projecting this image. Perfecting this façade. Wrapping himself up so tightly in his fairy tales of knights and princesses and magical lands, that he almost believed it himself. Almost. But it seemed almost innate with you: the ability to notice his giveaways. To notice the real him. The way his shoulders were slightly hunched, as if guarding himself from bad memories: the way his eyes flitted just ever so minutely around the room, as if a cold grip of fear was squeezing at his lungs: the way, that in all the time you had been standing there watching him, he had noticed the photograph and now refused to look your way.

'You-', you start, not entirely sure what to say. 'This is you? You're from this village? You, you-'

He looks so desolate, so horrifyingly sad as he deflates onto the edge of a desk that you can't even finish the sentence, let alone get to the accusations of his work with Umbrella. Instead, your eyes sweep over the last page of the diary, feeling your heart breaking at the loneliness and confusion this poor man must have felt for so long.

'You were trying to help', you finally murmur out through clenched teeth. 'You are trying to help', you soften, turning your body to face him with furrowed eyebrows. 'That's why you're following me.'

'I might have been', he shrugs, but even that motion seems to take all the energy out of him. He feels different now, more clear, more truthful as he folds his hands out in front of his lap. 'Maybe, at the start. But it's not just that. I'm a selfish man, senorita. Look!'

He throws an arm out towards the window with a faux smile, pointing an accusatory finger at the lingering hoards of torch wielding villagers that are stumbling through the fallen cast iron gates. 'See how well I did at saving them! No, no.' He rubs the bridge of his nose, before glancing crestfallen at the picture frame behind your arm. 'I'm no hero. I'm selfish. I decided a long while ago, mi amor, that I enjoyed your company far too much. If I can't save my village, I'm going to be selfish enough to save you.'

His eyes drop, and his nose sniffs, and you do the only thing your mind can piece together at that moment. You walk forward, and with a tentative face you wrap your arms around his torso and hug him. It takes him a moment to realise that you're not rightfully furious with him, before he lets his head droop down into the curve of your shoulder. You don't say a word when you feel his arms shake, sliding around your ribcage until his hands are clenched fists in the back of your shirt. He's so tall he's almost smothering you, but you don't care a jot. Instead, you just stay a moment in your perfect isolation, allowing the man in front of you the comfort and vulnerability to break.

You thought that was as bad as you would ever see him, but this man gets SERIOUSLY worried when he realises that you've been infected with las plagas too?? He curses himself with an incredibly frantic and incredibly rude string of Spanish curse words, realising it must have been around the same time Leon was infected, and you've been struggling with the pain of it alone this whole time. He goes into Serious Scientist Mode and does his best not to freak out when, in a flash, you've gone from idle chatting to flashing a boot knife at his throat. His adams apple bobs against the serrated edge of the blade as he slowly reaches his hand out to reassuringly squeeze your shoulder once again.

'It's alright, you do what you have to do. I told you, I'm not leaving you again, si?'

Your face crumbles in agonising pain as the black tendrils begin to flood away from your eyes to be replaced by blinking tears, mustering the strength to fling the knife until it sticks firmly into frame of a painting. You fall to the floor, writhing in pain, and it takes all of Luis' strength not to cry out as he falls down beside you like there are firecrackers nipping at his heels. He legit carries you bridle style out the door and onto one of those velvet cushioned chairs in the castle's corridor. He stoops down next to you, and you finally come around to his warm thumb rubbing just under your bottom lash line as he checks the white of your eyes for any lingering signs of infection.

His fingers are incredibly gentle as he unfurls your other intertwined hand to check the pulse on your wrist. The wrinkles on his forehead are so shoved together that he almost looks like he's folded in on himself, and you can barely make out the slight shake of his fingertips as he steadily counts with bated breath. He lets out a whistle of relief through his front teeth once he's reassured, falling backwards onto the gilded frame of the staircase's banister and stretching his legs out in front of him in blissful solace.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when you whisper a pained 'hey handsome', gripping your side and stretching out your neck as you sit up fully. He doesn't even speak, his eyes wide and terrified as he flies forward and pulls you into a desperate hug, so tight against his chest you feel like you might pop if his biceps pulse any more. He seems almost sheepish when he pulls back, until you pull him down by the lapel of his jacket to kiss his cheek and whisper a 'thanks for not leaving me' into the shell of his ear. Like a lightning strike, like life breathed back into his lungs, he's grinning like his old self. The lovestruck dope. You really have wrapped around your pinkie finger.

Him screaming WHEEE and climbing onto your head the whole time you're in the cart mine lmao.

When you guys reach the garden maze, he just can't keep his feelings in any longer. He doesn't quite know if it was you nearly being mauled by the dogs that reminded him of his grandfather, and all he's lost, or if it's just the thought of him not getting you to his lab in time that makes all the frustration and love and pure adrenaline fear slam against his ribs. Before you can even wipe the blood off your forehead, peering around the next corner to see if you can catch sight of an end to these stupid ass hedges, Luis struts forward and cages you in his arms. He's kissing you so fervently, effectively pinning you between his groin, lower legs, and the bristles of the bush behind you that you nearly fall through with the intensity of it.

This man is definitely the type to nearly knock you on your ass though tbf because he's thrusting up against you, so desperate for you.

Smug bastard is smirking the whole time, until he feels your nails scratch lightly against the stubble by the pulse point on his neck. He winces, closing his eyes and turning his head towards the empty air at your side that you think you've hurt him, until the bastard starts groaning.

Without even realising it, Luis has shoved you down onto the grass, breaking your fall by landing you on top of his arm. He crawls between you like a ravenous tiger until he's hovering over your face. He bites at the side of your neck, leaving a few wet marks as his tongue eagerly glides across your skin as your hand desperately reaches up onto the stone side of the fountain. Your chest rises and falls in quick succession as the man leaning his weight eagerly on your stomach ravishes you, only for your grasping hand to be met with his own heavily landing on top of it, interlinking quickly with your fingers. He growls as he pulls at the bottom of your thighs, raising your lower body further up towards him whilst also pulling your raised legs around the bottom of his back.

His other hand is aflame as it holds tight against the side of your pelvis, effectively holding you in place as he grinds against you, teeth nipping at your top lip as he kisses you like the world might end around him at any moment. His breath pants against your tongue, hand wandering like smooth butter down the sides of your hip, making sure you experience every inch of pleasure that's been pent up over the last few days. Making sure, with each swirl of his tongue against your own, that you finally realise how much he adores every inch of you. Ensuring, as he pulls you down by the hips to rest against the belt buckle of his jeans, that you're safe in the knowledge that he's never felt this in love: this safe, this devoted, so like himself again with anyone else.

Thankfully you're there to look out for each through thick and thin, and even more thankfully you're there to stop him being attacked and grievously wounded by Krauser. He swears, as the two of you finally come running hand in hand into his lab, and he holds onto your fingers with a grip tight and sweaty enough to bend metal, that he's going to make the most of this chance at redemption he's been given. He's going to be your knight in shining armour, for as long as he may live.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Cause of Action 4

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: thank you for waiting! Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

The alcohol clings to your tongue. The flavour is bitter and acidic. You don't like it. You put the shot glass down, hovering awkwardly as Andy brushes his fingertips along his beard and sighs. He turns to face the other man.

"So, you don't have a contract, what do you have? Correspondence? Anything," Andy says.

"Here's the thing, the correspondence isn't exactly PG. I don't know if it would be admissible."

"Hansen," Andy warns as the other man pours himself another drink.

"What? Calm down. I'll get you something. I just... need to find it."

"What does that mean?" Andy grits.

Lloyd nears you, standing close as he leans over to fill your disposed shot glass, "don't waste it, sunshine, I paid a pretty price for the best."

"Stop. She's not here to drink--"

"Maybe you should start, pal," Lloyd pulls away, downing his own shot then drinking straight from the neck of the bottle, "what are you complaining about? I'm gonna cut you a check and you're gonna get this bimbo off my ass. I didn't do anything she didn't ask me to do."

"Maybe you should save your money and just pay out the lawsuit," Andy huffs, "it'd be easier--"

"We both know you're not going to just roll over," Lloyd insists and looks at you, gesturing with the bottle, "I said don't waste my generosity. It doesn't come easy."

Andy doesn't seem to hear the warning. He's rubbing his forehead as he sneers at the ceiling. You give a guilty look and take the shot glass, apologising before you throw back the mouthful with a choke. You seal your lips to keep from spitting it back out.

Lloyd goes over to the couch and sits, knees wide, taking another gulp from the bottle.

"Sit down, let me go over the shit," he demands as he rests the bottle on his leg.

Andy relents, walking around the couch stiffly and sitting in an leather armchair, just on the edge. He watches Lloyd expectantly. The client stifles a belch behind his fist and and snaps his fingers, pointing to the end of the sofa.

"The secretary too," he says.

"Intern," Andy corrects.

You lower yourself carefully and cross your hands over your knee, antsy and a bit disoriented as the alcohol seeps into your bloodstream. You didn't expect to be tipsy this fast.

"Alright, so get this," Lloyd begins, "I'm on TikTok, scrolling, and I see this bimbo..."

Andy flutters his lashes as his cheek ticks. He restrains himself as he listens and you try not to cringe at the lewd retelling of a tangled web of money and unsavoury acts. You lean on the armrest and yawn as Lloyd goes on, growing more theatrical as he unravels the tale of his current predicament.

📖

Another drink is forced on you before Andy firmly takes the bottle away. His exasperation boils over and he yanks away the gin. He sets it down heavily with a clunk as he looms over the other man. Lloyd giggles at the attorney's anger.

"Well, there's my side of the story," he hiccups and shifts to slip his phone out of his pocket and look at the time, "now if you don't mind, I got friends comin'... a few ladies too..." he winks in your direction, "you can stick around if you like, sunshine."

"That's enough," Andy marches towards the door, "we got what we need. Try not to rack up another lawsuit tonight."

"I'll do my darnedest," Lloyd slurs as you stand up, "damn, if that ain't daddy energy, right there."

You look down at the drunken man and fixes his collar. You shake your head and follow Andy. Well, that was the strangest experience of your life. You'll be content to never face anything like that again.

Andy holds the door for you but as you step into the hall, you feel the stir of alcohol and wobble just a little. You're surprise as Andy catches up to you and puts his hand on the small of your back. You press your hand to the wall and murmur and apology.

"You okay?" He asks, closer than you expect, his breath tickling through your hair.

"Yeah, yeah, it's just... I don't really drink."

"Sorry about that, he's pushy like that, I just... didn't wanna argue. Get what I need and... I feel awful now."

"Really, I'm fine," you wave him off and stand straight, "I'm just tired."

You go to the top of the stairs and grab the railing, taking the steps one at a time as you try no to look down. The flashing lights and the music add to your spiraling reality and as you reach the bottom, your empty stomach adds to the skewing of the dark room. You sense Andy behind you and your crushed against him as bodies crowd you.

He grabs your arm, keeping you from falling, and directs you past the web of dancing clubbers. He hurries you along, deflecting writhing bodies with a strong arm and gets you to the doors. You stumble out with him still grasping onto you.

"Jeez," you say out of breath, "it's crazy in there."

"Right," he huffs and squeezes before he lets you go, "lots going on," he combs his fingers through his hair, "you okay?"

"Yeah, fine, just..."

"Hey, let me drive you home," he interjects, "you look like you need to lay down."

"You're probably right," you shrug, glancing back through the club doors.

He gestures you past the queue of people waiting on the sidewalk and you cross to the other side of the street. You get to his car, a bit woozy as you lean against it. Three shots and you're ready to collapse. You're kind of embarrassed.

He unlocks the door and you drop into the car heavily. You close your eyes and try to clear away the gathering cobwebs. This isn't a good look.

"You sure you're doing okay?" Andy asks as he reaches over to pull your door shut.

You snaps your eyes open and eke out, "yeah, sorry."

You buckle your seat belt and try set your head straight. This can't be happening. You're a lightweight but you can't be this bad. You muffle a yawn in your palm.

You lean your elbow on the slim armrest and cradle your head. You just need to get yourself together. You only need to make it home before you... pass out.

[tenebraevesper]

Knuckles - The Epilogue

''Ohh, oh, oh, oh, ohh! Who's the hunter, who's the game? I feel the beat, call your name! I hold you close in victory! I don't wanna tame your animal style! You won't be caged in the call of the wild! Shootin' at the walls of heartache! Bang, bang! I am the warrior! Well, I am the warrior, and heart to heart you'll win! If you survive the warrior! The warrior! Shootin' at the walls of heartache! Bang, bang! I am the warrior! Well, I am the warrior, and heart to heart you'll win! If you survive the warrior! The warrior!''

– The Warrior by Scandal (Knuckles)

xXxXxXx

Knuckles the Echidna held his head up high proudly as he was driving his newly acquired motorcycle on the road back to Green Hills. He briefly reached for the brown fedora with a black band and three gold stars in red with gold lining circles at the front of the band to flick it up, nodding his head along with the song that was playing on Wade Whipple's smartphone, The Warrior by Scandal. He had already decided that this song was his jam and was more than happy to let Wade play it on loop as they were driving back home.

Wade in turn, was keeping a tight grip on his new bowling trophy, cheering and singing to the song. Not only did he prove his worth by beating his father who had abandoned him at TJ Maxx, Pistol Pete Whipple, at the Bowling Tournament in Reno, Nevada, but also aiding Knuckles in defeating that old crazy man, The Buyer, or whoever he was, who had allied himself with the two rogue G.U.N. Agents to steal Knuckles' power. He truly became a warrior in his own right.

''Finally, we are back at home! I shall ask Maddie to prepare a feast in celebration of our victory and regale my tribe with the tales of our adventure,'' Knuckles said joyfully.

''I'm sure they'll be excited to hear what had happened!'' Wade shouted enthusiastically, having to admit that he was also quite excited to brag to Tom and Maddie about his accomplishment. Both of them were certain that they would be welcomed at Green Hills with open arms.

xXx

''I got it, I got it!'' Tails managed to catch the baseball Sonic had thrown, with the two playing catch in the backyard. He flew up, about to throw it back at Sonic, when both of them heard the sound of an engine and Tails saw who had just arrived. ''It's Knuckles! Knuckles is back!''

''What?'' Sonic was surprised, with Tails beckoning the blue hedgehog to follow him to the front driveway. Both of them were stunned to see the echidna riding on a motorcycle with Wade sitting behind him and holding a trophy. Sonic and Tails were happy to see the person who was basically their older brother at this point, with Sonic elbowing Tails, a wide smile on his expression. ''See? I told you he'd be fine! I guess Knuckles just needed… eh, a motorcycle and a hat?''

''I guess he was on some kind of road trip with Wade,'' Tails said, drawing conclusion from what he saw.

To be honest, neither of them had a clue where Knuckles had vanished to and they did search for him after realizing that he wasn't anymore at the attic, but Sonic was confident that Knuckles would be just fine. Tails was a bit worried about Knuckles, but he had to agree with Sonic that their older brother had been through worse and that he would be back eventually. They both concluded that he had probably gone on some kind of quest worthy of a warrior and they were curious what it was about.

''Knuckles, where were you?'' Sonic asked as Knuckles and Wade got off the motorcycle. ''Also, what's up with the hat and the motorcycle? Have you decided to join the Hells Angels?''

''I don't know any of these Angels that live in Hell, and no, I didn't join them. Instead, I had decided to take up the task of training Wade Whipple into becoming a proper warrior and defeat his greatest enemy on the battleground of Reno, Nevada,'' Knuckles replied, turning to Wade.

''Well, I don't want to brag too much…'' Wade started, only to show Sonic and Tails the trophy he had, ''…but I completely destroyed my old man in the bowling tournament! Ha! My dad never saw it coming! You should've seen me!''

''You have earned your title as a warrior. Your journey is complete,'' Knuckles said. Wade gave him a sincere smile.

''I wouldn't have managed to get so far without you Knuckles. Thank you,'' he replied. Knuckles tipped his head and nodded in acknowledgement, then turned towards Sonic.

''I also owe a 'Thank you' to you, Hedgehog. Your speech may have been confusing and your methods have not suited my ways, but you were right. Green Hills… No, Earth is now my home,'' Knuckles told him, with Sonic chuckling, being quite happy to hear that. He placed a hand on Knuckles' shoulder, giving him a wide smile.

''I knew you'd come around eventually. Your place is here, with us, and all it took was a road trip to Nevada to realize that. As a matter of fact, I also had to go on a road trip to realize that I wanted to stay on Earth instead of going to Mushroom Planet,'' Sonic said. Knuckles hummed in thought.

''You never told me that. Perhaps, going on a road trip is necessary ritual to accept Earth as your home.'' Knuckles then turned to Tails. ''Then, you are the next one to experience a road trip, Fox.''

''N-No, thanks… I've already been on a road trip with Sonic in Siberia. I don't think I need another one,'' Tails replied.

The group was about to go inside the house, when they suddenly heard loud steps coming from inside and saw Maddie approaching them. Sonic and Tails' eyes widened, as they realized that they kind of forgot about the aftermath of Knuckles' sudden disappearance. To say that the matriarch of the Wachowski family was furious was an understatement. It all started when Maddie went upstairs to deliver Knuckles the plate with his dinner, only to find out that the echidna was completely gone. Then, all Hell broke loose.

''Sonic, Tails? Where is Knuckles? Have you seen him?'' Maddie asked, her expression the epitome of serenity, but her eyes blazing with motherly rage. Sonic and Tails looked at each other nervously, having been playing video games in the living room.

''Uh, no? We've been here the whole day,'' Sonic replied. Maddie narrowed her eyes, with Sonic offering an anxious smile.

''Are you sure? You haven't heard anything or seen anything…?'' she asked again, with Sonic knowing that look. He knew that, if Maddie ever caught them lying about Knuckles' whereabouts, they were doomed. She may have been their motherly figure, but Sonic felt that he'd rather go against a Dr. Eggman powered up with the Master Emerald again than deal with a furious Maddie.

''No, we didn't hear nor see anything. We would've seen Knuckles if he tried to get past us,'' Sonic replied.

''Maybe he escaped through the window?'' Tails suggested. Maddie sighed in frustration, grabbing her smartphone.

''I don't know, but he'll be in so much trouble when he gets home,'' she said, walking into the next room and calling Tom, followed by Wade, followed by every person she knew in Green Hills about Knuckles' whereabouts. Meanwhile, Tails turned back to Sonic with a worried look on his expression.

''Do you think that I should've used one of my holograms to pretend that Knuckles was still here?'' he asked.

''No, because if you did that, we'd be in huge trouble and trust me, you don't want to experience what happens when Maddie gets angry. We just have pretend that we didn't know that Knuckles went missing until now, and we'll be fine,'' Sonic assured him.

''Okay, but what about Knuckles? What if he's in danger? We should go search for him,'' Tails replied.

''You said it yourself, Knuckles is the greatest warrior in the galaxy, so I wouldn't worry about him getting into trouble. He probably had gone to do some soul-searching and will be back in no time,'' Sonic said in a confident tone. Tails went silent for a moment, then gave Sonic a look of concern, his eyes wide.

''Do you think that Knuckles may have decided that he doesn't want to stay here anymore, at Green Hills? With us?'' he asked. Sonic shook his head.

''Absolutely not! You know that Knuckles considers us his tribe and he wouldn't go back on his promise. We made a power bump and we're brothers at this point. He will return, I'm sure,'' Sonic said, with Tails nodding in acknowledgement. ''Besides, the Master Emerald is still hidden in our roon, and we both know he wouldn't go anywhere without it.''

Tails chuckled. ''Yeah, you're right about that.''

Back in the present moment, neither Tails nor Sonic felt like laughing when they saw a furious Maddie stomping over to Knuckles and Wade. Knuckles and Wade's proud grins immediately faded away when they realized that she wasn't as overjoyed to see them as they thought she would be. Maddie inhaled deeply, glaring daggers at both of them.

''Knuckles, where have you been? Do you know how worried I was?'' she asked.

''I was merely on a quest with Wade,'' Knuckles said, sensing the tension in the air. As for Wade, he realized that both he and Knuckles were in deep trouble, even though he technically didn't do anything to piss off Maddie. He was startled when she suddenly turned to him.

''Also, why haven't you called me and told me that Knuckles was with you the whole time?! I've been searching the whole town for him!'' she said furiously.

''Maddie, look… I think you should just calm down and let us explain…'' Wade said, slowly stepping back. Even if he was a warrior now, he knew how to pick his battles. Throwing bowling balls at a guy in a robot mecha while powered up with Knuckles' quills was nothing compared to an angry Maddie.

Maddie pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled. ''Fine, but you-'' she pointed at Knuckles ''-are still grounded. How long you'll be grounded depends on your reasons for leaving.''

''I will accept my grounding with honor,'' Knuckles responded, also being well aware that there were some battles he simply couldn't fight, no matter how much he wanted to. He also figured that he wouldn't be punished for leaving once Maddie hears and understands his reasons. The group then walked into the house, with Sonic giving Knuckles an amused smile.

''I guess thinks can't get worse now, do they?'' he said.

''Don't worry, Hedgehog, I'm confident that I will be able to defend my case,'' Knuckles replied.

''Heh, we'll see about that,'' Tails said.

xXx

Unknown to Sonic, Tails and Knuckles, the situation actually got worse. Sort of. Of course, they believed that Dr. Eggman was gone and that G.U.N. wouldn't be bothering them again, and there were certainly no new adversaries attacking Green Hills, but the reason for that was because their new foe was miles away from Montana.

Nobody really payed any attention to the black and red hedgehog walking through a casino in Reno, figuring that he was just some kind of mascot or a guy in a costume. The hedgehog, in turn, was content with the lack of attention, solely focused on his own task. He paused for a moment, closing his eyes and focusing on the strange sensation that he felt, turning on his heel and walking towards the source of this sensation. He had already made the mistake to not follow his senses and instead focused on his memories, only to end up at a familiar bowling alley. Scoffing, he returned back to the other part of the building, being guided by this sensation.

He then stopped in front of a glass case, which displayed a bunch of trophies and photographs of previous winners of the bowling tournament, along with a green diamond-shaped gem inside it. He smirked, and his body became enveloped in orange sparking energy. The glass suddenly shattered as he punched through it, grabbing the green jewel.

''It all starts with this… A jewel containing the ultimate power…'' Shadow the Hedgehog stated, lifting the green Chaos Emerald up. His ears flicked when he heard people shouting, with the security guards arriving at the scene.

''What are you doing?! You can't just break the glass and steal-'' Before the security guard could even finish his sentence, Shadow furrowed a brow, shooting him a glare. He then held out the Chaos Emerald. ''There's no time for games… Farewell! Chaos Control!''

The security guard was left baffled when the hedgehog suddenly vanished into thin air. He then shook his head, deciding that he wasn't payed enough for this weirdness.

xXx

High above on a cliff overlooking Green Hills, there was a flash of light, revealing a small figure appearing seemingly out of nowhere. The figure narrowed his golden eyes, his body enveloped in cyan sparking energy.

''I hope that I'm in the right time. I can't let the future get destroyed!'' Silver the Hedgehog stated. ''I need to find that person, the wielder of the Flames of Destruction!''

He then flew up, his body covered in cyan energy, and flew towards where he believed his foe waited, determined to make sure that the future wouldn't turn into a desolate wasteland covered in flames and ashes.

Links:

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#Sonic Cyber Revolution (Masterlist)