#the lock screen is trying to advertise to me!!!

[sunbun21]

new dell xps review

is there a way to get your own personal machine to stop advertising to you

[mihai-florescu]

This really was our yumenosaki academy♡

[badnoahmens]

You’re Mine

Noah Sebastian x Reader

3.6k words.

A/N: jealous Noah has me feeling strong feelings. Smutty shit so 18+ only. Wrote this instead of working on higher priority WIPs.

You twist the handle for the hot water off, steam being the only thing that filled the small shower around you now. After the long day you had, a nice, hot shower was the only thing that seemed to help take the edge off. With a sigh, you step from the warmth surrounding you, reaching for the towel and swiftly tucking in the side to preserve your modesty.

As you exit from the bathroom, you swipe meaninglessly through your phone, scrolling through photos posted from friends and the odd targeted advertisement. With a small ding a new notification graces the top of your screen. An old friend of yours, Patrick, that you had kept in touch with throughout the years, had recently reached out and was sending memes he thought you would like. Seeing as the two of you had similar jobs, they were mostly focused on that. Innocent enough, but it wasn’t worth looking at now.

Without taking much notice of your surroundings, you walk between the bathroom and into the kitchen in search of a snack to quell your cravings. Noah was leaning on the counter in the middle of the kitchen, elbows propping up with one hand curled into a fist under his chin, the other scrolling through something on his phone. His eyes were slightly glazed over, a side effect of the doom scrolling that he often fell into. You side-eye him as you walk past, pulling an unimpressed face as you responsibly reach for an apple.

The bite you take makes a loud crunch that is the only sound that breaks the silence in the room. The chewing that follows is equally as loud and disturbing, echoing as an irritating wet, mushy slurp. You kept your eyes on Noah as you took a second loud bite from the apple, knowing full well he loathes the sound.

Another scroll with his thumb flashes bright colours and fast-moving videos on his phone, still unaware of your presence.

A third bite of the apple, this one finally earning a reaction. His head slowly turns, pivoting on the hand that he still has balancing under his chin, his eyes landing on you as you take a fourth, menacingly slow and obnoxiously loud bite.

And then it is a stare-down. You refuse to let up, keeping a blank expression on your face as you grind down, meticulously masticating the organic surgery fruit. Noah squinted his eyes, knowing full well that it was your intention to bother him. He clicks his phone so the screen locks, and places it gently on the counter.

“Alright! That’s it!” he finally calls as you lift the apple, almost gone now, to your mouth dramatically slowly for another bite, although you never get to take it. Noah stands and strides over to you, snatching the apple from your hands, tossing it into the bin that sat in the corner of the room. It was immediately after that you were tossed over his shoulder, flailing in a panic. He turned on his heels and speed-walks to the bedroom. You bounced slightly as the pace he held wasn’t one that was all that graceful. He was laughing maniacally at your feeble attempts to squirm from his grasp. You would never tell him that you weren’t actually trying.

With a jostle and a thud, he dumps you on your back, the soft mattress bouncing below you. You fight playfully, trying your best to catch Noah’s fast and nimble hands as they darted in and out, tickling your sides. His smile is palpable, his hair wavering from side to side as he adjusts his plan of attack every time you twist and turn under him. He has his knees pinned by your sides, grey sweats and a black t-shirt lingering over you as his colourful, decorated arms and neck looked ever so enticing. You couldn't help but notice the way that his pants twitched as he continued to hold you pinned down on the bed.

In a sudden change of heart, his hands stop, grasping your wrists and holding them above your head in one of his hands. He drops his face so that it is an inch from yours. His breath wafted over your face and you smiled, glancing between his intense gaze and watching the way he licked his lips.

“How was your shower? Did it fix your bad day?” He asked. His head tilted to the side slightly. The question sounded innocent enough, right?

“I’m still a little tense,” you reply. And you were honest with your response. It was a long day. When you arrived home, your bags were quickly dumped on the floor by the door haphazardly, a huff leaving you in an attempt to exult some of the emotion that had pent up all day. Working with kids was difficult on a normal day, but there must have been something in the air today for them to be as wild as they were. Noah knew you were in a less-than-ideal mood. Bless his soul, he did try and help, but the best thing you could do was to wash the day away. Now, even after a shower, the aftereffects of a bad day were still lingering despite being only towel-clad underneath your boyfriend.

“Turn over” he motions with his head, releasing your hands from his vice grip allowing you to lay on your stomach instead. In the midst of this motion, he tweaks his fingers under the top of where your towel sat, tugging at the tuck that held it secure. You had a sharp inhale as the cold air hit your bare skin, still warm and slightly damp from your shower.

You heard Noah hum behind you and you glance over your shoulder back at him, but he doesn't see your face. Instead, his eyes are trailing down your body, pupils dilating when he sets his sight on your ass.

Noah was an ass man for sure. And he was obsessed with yours. He would always be so handsy with you, the odd playful slap here and there, tucking his hand into your back pocket to cop a feel when he probably shouldn't be, even his favourite sex positions were the ones where it was front and centre in his view.

You tucked your hands under your chin, still twisting so that you could see Noah in your peripherals. His hands started to glide over your back, down your sides, following the sweet contours of your body. Noah let out a low growl from deep within, but you’re certain he wasn’t aware of half the noises he was making; the deep breaths, slight gasps and quiet moans.

Using all of his restraint, Noah tears his gaze from your ass and lifts his body so that he is kneeling over you, hands now placed on your shoulders. He could still feel the tension in the knots that had built up over time, forming firm ridges across your shoulders and back. Tattooed digits started to knead into the tender muscles twisting under your skin. The pressure mixed with the slow circles made you close your eyes and let out an involuntary moan. Noah hummed and smiled to himself, knowing the power this had over you. You were such a sucker for massages, and could never deny having Noah;s hands all over your body.

He continued to try his best to break down the clusters of tension, twisting and rubbing at the bundles that had gathered over a long time. Your head would roll from one side to the other, allowing Noah to work into different areas and use different pressures to make some kind of difference. Noah would be lying if he said he didn’t love it too. Having his hands all over you? Making you feel good? Knowing full well that this often led to something far more exciting? Yes please.

It was at this moment, as you were about to be lost to Noah’s touch and oblivious to the world, when your phone dinged again. Lifting it up to your face, another notification from your old friend lit up the phone that was strewn carelessly on the bed next to you.

Noah’s hands stopped.

“Who’s Patrick’?” Noah asks, the slighted hint annoyance in this voice. You readjusted your position so you could see Noah’s face, his expression blank. You tried to wriggle so you could twist from under him, but his legs tensed and squeezed you so you were stuck, completely at his mercy.

“He’s an old friend. Has a similar job. Been sending me some memes about work. He sent me one earlier but I didn’t respond so he’s probably sending another” you answer.

“Sending you memes, huh? He does this often?” Noah’s leg muscles were still tense beside you as he sat back on his haunches, warm calloused hands now retreating from your body.

“I mean, a little bit. He reached out last week after he started a new job with someone I used to know.” You pause, Noah’s demeanour was changing before your very eyes. Now, he seemed a little standoffish.

Noah makes a “Hmff” noise in response.

“Noah?” He doesn’t respond. “Are you jealous?”

No response again.

“Noah” you call once more.

“You’re seriously moody because I have been talking to an old friend?” You prop your head up on your hands in an effort to get a better view of Noah. Although you could see his face, he had turned to look across the room beyond you, and he seemed perplexed.

“Fine. Don’t talk to me. That's totally fine” you say sarcastically, shifting underneath him to slip out from his legs still perched beside you. Before you could free yourself entirely, Noah leaves. He stands and crosses the room, disappearing into your walk-in robe. Sounds of shuffling items then follows.

You twist and sit up, pulling the towel back around you. Your gaze was down at trying to hitch the material back into a safe tuck as you ignored the kerfuffle Noah was making when he walked back into the room.

Just as you are satisfied with the towel adjustments, Noah’s hands are on you, pushing you back down onto the bed. He hovers over you again, but now his eyes were dark and his motions were very intentional.

You go to speak, but Noah shakes his head and stands again, holding a firm grip on your hips so that you swivel to a new angle, diagonal across the bed, and spinning so that you land back onto your stomach, just like before.

Your eyes glance up in front of you and you see what the commotion Noah was making before. A full body-length mirror was now sat up leaning against the wall, allowing for your reflection to stare right back at you. You look up at Noah through your eyelashes in the mirror, raising an eyebrow quizzically at you, trying to figure out the expression Noah has spread all over his face. That is, until it hits. It’s a look of desire.

He proceeds to crawl over you, leaning forward on closed fists so that they land on either side of your head before rising to be on his knees. Illustrated hands that contrast with the towel hitch around your hips, yanking them up fast and forcefully so that your knees fall under you, perching your ass high.

You couldn’t help but have a smirk plastered on your face; Noah on the other hand, still doing his best to hold a poker face. His gaze wanders down, allowing his hands to rub possessively over your cheeks under the fuzzy material. They dance lightly over your hips, then begin the trace lines on the insides of your thighs. You let out a high-pitched whimper as an automatic response. You had no control over what influence Noah had on your body, let alone when you were like this.

Noah’s eyes didn’t leave your face, so you teasingly leant back, pressing your skin closer to him. Your breath started to quicken, hitching in your throat when his nimble fingers flicked at the towel causing it to slip down, exposing your body once again. Noah struggled to keep his composure as he took the sights, expression faltering slightly and his hands moved to your folds immediately feeling the warm wetness on his fingertips.

Your eyes slipped closed, relishing in the lightest of touches that Noah was gracing you with, that was until one hand came down with a hard slap on your ass, and the fingers teasing you were gone.

Your eyes shoot open and your body jolts in reaction, except Noah clamps his hands on your hips and pulls you back closer to him.

“Keep them open” he growls, and you watch the way his mouth twitches as his fingers return to your folds, one hand grabbing a handful of the tender skin of your ass cheek perched up in his direction. You lock eyes in the mirror. “I want you to see who’s you are,” he continued.

Slowly, one finger glides into your pussy. It might not be enough, but it’s something. You rock back in the slightest way, and Noah’s grip tightens on your ass. He gives you a warning glance, before his eyes move to his digit disappearing into your folds. It curls up inside you, like he was beckoning you to come closer. The caressing on your inside walls slowly pumps out, and then in again. A rhythm started to build and he added a second finger.

Starting to feel more full, your eyes begin to close, but you remember the demands before they fully shut. Instead, you peer through half-closed slits and admire the way Noah’s hips were starting to grind against you. There was a mound growing in his pants, grazing against your inner thigh, telling you that he is loving this.

“Does that feel good?” He murmurs from behind you, and his eyes are back on yours in the mirror. You nod and hum in response, sliding a hand back behind you to reach for Noah. He takes your hand, grasps it firmly, and places it on your back. It’s feels unnatural, but not unformatabme. Your fingers intertwine as acts almost like an anchor. For you? For Noah? You’re not sure, maybe even both of you.

“Say my name” he demands.

“N….” You start, and he flicks his wrist, stopping any ability to control your voice. Instead, a moan escapes.

“What was that?” He whispers, twisting his fingers again in the same motion.

“Nooaaahhhhh…” the end of his name escapes your mouth as a sigh, as though it could have very well been your last breath.

Noah’s fingers disappear from inside you, slipping out and bringing with it some of the wetness that is all but dripping from your pussy.

“What do you want?” He asks. But you can’t speak. The emptiness turns into an ache. All you can do is stare at him in the mirror and watch as he slides his fingers into his mouth, letting drips of your own liquids run down his chin. His eyes are blown wide and dark with desire, and he notices the way your legs twitch closer when his tongue graces the space between his two fingers, curling up to clean them of any remnants of you on them.

“I- I want you” you are able to stammer out between the heavy breaths.

He grins a devilish grin and shifts his weight, struggling to jam down his sweats to his thighs with one hand, ignoring his own wet patch of precum that had soaked through the front of them. His hand then lands on the outside of your thigh, in the crease where it meets your hip, as he steadies himself. You can feel the tip of his cock nudge at your entrance, and then he pauses.

His dark eyes are locked in on yours, looking through his eyelashes, and moving his eyes, slowly rocks his hips forward. The pressure is achingly slow. He is teasing you. Letting you know that he is in control here.

Your free hand grasps at fbe sheets below you, trying in some way to let out the tension that is building. The other hand still intertwined with Noah’s behind you tightens in grip. He gives his own squeeze back, almost as a reassurance. Your mouth falls open and eyebrows twist, anticipation causing you to be entirely out of control if your own body movements. You feel him inside, yet it’s the lack of rhythmic motion that is missing.

Your hips buck forward involuntarily, something deep within you just pleading for more friction between you and Noah, and he picks up on it. He begins to drag his cock out of you, placing his free hand on the inside of your thigh, tapping it with grace as though to say ‘open more’. You do as you’re told, shifting the weight to one leg and the other swings out to make a wide gap between your legs. Noah doesn’t hesitate after that.

His shaft is hammering back into you. In and out like a jackhammer. The fingers of his free hand now sitting dangerously and teasingly close to the tight ring of muscle that sat between your asscheecks. You look at his face in the mirror; a sheen of sweat building over his face after only a minute of fucking, his brows furrowed as he stares intently at the work he is doing on your behind. Nails dig into the tender flesh of your derriere as Noah tilts his head back.

You feel the white hot glow begin to burn inside you. Noah is not taking any chances tonight, his hand leaving yours on your back to tangle with the mess of hair on your head. It was already knotted, but Noah intertwined his fingers with it, tugging with little force to bring your chin up.

Your legs were shaking at this point, and it could have been from the pleasure or the absolute hammering they were receiving. There was a growl from Noah which drowned out the hum of the tv from the other room, but you couldn’t tell what he actually said. The skin on skin slapping sounding even sloppier by the second. He was getting close, he was starting to fumble over his rhythm, but he could see that you just weren’t as close to your release as he was.

His hand leaves the tangle of your messy hair, keeping his eye contact in the mirror, and lands on the underside of your belly. You can feel him pull towards him, another silent instruction. Pushing on your arms, you felt weak. They shivered underneath you and you rose to your elbows, then up on your palms.

“More. Against me” Noah hums through a tight jaw. The pounding from behind you was starting to slow and you knew he couldn’t hold on for much longer.

With the right shift of weight, you right yourself on your knees, feeling the sweaty, warm sensation of Noah’s heaving body on your back. His arm wrapped around your chest, settling with an open palm grasping needily at your breast. He grabbed, twisted and pinched at your nipple, caressing what he could as he tried his best to focus on bringing you closer. And boy, was it working.

The new position gave you a full frontal view of what state you were in. The mirror was a portal to a world of pleasure and sex, and the only ones who lived there were you and Noah. Nothing else around you mattered. Nothing else around you even existed in this moment.

Your eyes clamp shut as the build of your orgasm was teetering at the edge, threatening to unfurl and throw sensations through your body that only Noah could achieve. There was a tightening around your neck, and as your eyes open, he land on Noah’s is tense stare from behind you.

“I said keep them open” he demanded. “I want you to watch you cum. Watch what I can do to you.”

All you can do is nod. He was never this dominant, but he must have been really ticked off. He had a point to prove, and he was delaying his own paradise just to make it know.

“You’re mine.”

“I’m yours” you whisper.

The hammering of his cock inside you, slamming deep inside of you, paired with the hand that had just dropped to your clit was the magic that brought your orgasm to its peak. There was a flood of heat that washed through you. If it wasn’t for Noah’s arms, you would have collapsed right there in front of him. Your body jerked involuntarily as Noah let you ride out the electricity. His eyes were on your face, watching as you cried out with his name, hands desperately grabbing at his arm twisted around you.

His muscles flexed as he held you up, knowing that you needed him to stay this close, but he couldn’t help but give up the fight of holding back his own orgasm. With a wet jerk of his hips, he slipped from you just in time to let the streams of hot white cum leave him, landing on the lower part of your back. You fall forward, landing with your arms by your face, and let Noah release onto you. You watch as his own eyes close, failing to follow his own rules, and then collapses beside you.

It was minutes before either of you even got your breaths back into a regular pattern. You watch Noah lay on his back, his palm resting on his forehead, and a sex-drunk smile on his face. He turns to look at you, letting out a low chuckle.

“I’d like to see Patrick’s memes beat that.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Too big to care

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in BOSTON with Randall "XKCD" Munroe (Apr 11), then PROVIDENCE (Apr 12), and beyond!

Remember the first time you used Google search? It was like magic. After years of progressively worsening search quality from Altavista and Yahoo, Google was literally stunning, a gateway to the very best things on the internet.

Today, Google has a 90% search market-share. They got it the hard way: they cheated. Google spends tens of billions of dollars on payola in order to ensure that they are the default search engine behind every search box you encounter on every device, every service and every website:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/03/not-feeling-lucky/#fundamental-laws-of-economics

Not coincidentally, Google's search is getting progressively, monotonically worse. It is a cesspool of botshit, spam, scams, and nonsense. Important resources that I never bothered to bookmark because I could find them with a quick Google search no longer show up in the first ten screens of results:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

Even after all that payola, Google is still absurdly profitable. They have so much money, they were able to do a $80 billion stock buyback. Just a few months later, Google fired 12,000 skilled technical workers. Essentially, Google is saying that they don't need to spend money on quality, because we're all locked into using Google search. It's cheaper to buy the default search box everywhere in the world than it is to make a product that is so good that even if we tried another search engine, we'd still prefer Google.

This is enshittification. Google is shifting value away from end users (searchers) and business customers (advertisers, publishers and merchants) to itself:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/05/the-map-is-not-the-territory/#apor-locksmith

And here's the thing: there are search engines out there that are so good that if you just try them, you'll get that same feeling you got the first time you tried Google.

When I was in Tucson last month on my book-tour for my new novel The Bezzle, I crashed with my pals Patrick and Teresa Nielsen Hayden. I've know them since I was a teenager (Patrick is my editor).

We were sitting in his living room on our laptops – just like old times! – and Patrick asked me if I'd tried Kagi, a new search-engine.

Teresa chimed in, extolling the advanced search features, the "lenses" that surfaced specific kinds of resources on the web.

I hadn't even heard of Kagi, but the Nielsen Haydens are among the most effective researchers I know – both in their professional editorial lives and in their many obsessive hobbies. If it was good enough for them…

I tried it. It was magic.

No, seriously. All those things Google couldn't find anymore? Top of the search pile. Queries that generated pages of spam in Google results? Fucking pristine on Kagi – the right answers, over and over again.

That was before I started playing with Kagi's lenses and other bells and whistles, which elevated the search experience from "magic" to sorcerous.

The catch is that Kagi costs money – after 100 queries, they want you to cough up $10/month ($14 for a couple or $20 for a family with up to six accounts, and some kid-specific features):

https://kagi.com/settings?p=billing_plan&plan=family

I immediately bought a family plan. I've been using it for a month. I've basically stopped using Google search altogether.

Kagi just let me get a lot more done, and I assumed that they were some kind of wildly capitalized startup that was running their own crawl and and their own data-centers. But this morning, I read Jason Koebler's 404 Media report on his own experiences using it:

https://www.404media.co/friendship-ended-with-google-now-kagi-is-my-best-friend/

Koebler's piece contained a key detail that I'd somehow missed:

When you search on Kagi, the service makes a series of “anonymized API calls to traditional search indexes like Google, Yandex, Mojeek, and Brave,” as well as a handful of other specialized search engines, Wikimedia Commons, Flickr, etc. Kagi then combines this with its own web index and news index (for news searches) to build the results pages that you see. So, essentially, you are getting some mix of Google search results combined with results from other indexes.

In other words: Kagi is a heavily customized, anonymized front-end to Google.

The implications of this are stunning. It means that Google's enshittified search-results are a choice. Those ad-strewn, sub-Altavista, spam-drowned search pages are a feature, not a bug. Google prefers those results to Kagi, because Google makes more money out of shit than they would out of delivering a good product:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/4/2/24117976/best-printer-2024-home-use-office-use-labels-school-homework

No wonder Google spends a whole-ass Twitter every year to make sure you never try a rival search engine. Bottom line: they ran the numbers and figured out their most profitable course of action is to enshittify their flagship product and bribe their "competitors" like Apple and Samsung so that you never try another search engine and have another one of those magic moments that sent all those Jeeves-askin' Yahooers to Google a quarter-century ago.

One of my favorite TV comedy bits is Lily Tomlin as Ernestine the AT&T operator; Tomlin would do these pitches for the Bell System and end every ad with "We don't care. We don't have to. We're the phone company":

https://snltranscripts.jt.org/76/76aphonecompany.phtml

Speaking of TV comedy: this week saw FTC chair Lina Khan appear on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. It was amazing:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oaDTiWaYfcM

The coverage of Khan's appearance has focused on Stewart's revelation that when he was doing a show on Apple TV, the company prohibited him from interviewing her (presumably because of her hostility to tech monopolies):

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/apple-got-caught-censoring-its-own

But for me, the big moment came when Khan described tech monopolists as "too big to care."

What a phrase!

Since the subprime crisis, we're all familiar with businesses being "too big to fail" and "too big to jail." But "too big to care?" Oof, that got me right in the feels.

Because that's what it feels like to use enshittified Google. That's what it feels like to discover that Kagi – the good search engine – is mostly Google with the weights adjusted to serve users, not shareholders.

Google used to care. They cared because they were worried about competitors and regulators. They cared because their workers made them care:

https://www.vox.com/future-perfect/2019/4/4/18295933/google-cancels-ai-ethics-board

Google doesn't care anymore. They don't have to. They're the search company.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

[lovelytsunoda]

god knows I’ve tried // yuki tsunoda

summary: stranded at her publishers office after the battery in her car dies, there’s only one person she wants to call for a jumpstart.

pairing: yuki tsunoda x lawson!reader

warnings: self-deprecating humor, y/n is very self critical, yuki is her night in shining armour, total lack of christmas spirit, anxiety.

author's note: this resonates so personally with me and i feel so fricking attached to this story and all the people in it. please treat it kindly :)

so go on judge me by my cover, and no I’ll never have another. baby I’ve been bad, but god knows I’ve tried to be good

it's too early for damn christmas lights, she huffed to herself as she left the office, juggling the volkswagen keys that dangled from her fingertips with the large cardboard box between her arms, staring at the lights and tinsel hung up on the light poles. cursing to herself and trying not to drop anything, she fumbled for the unlock button, ready to ditch the box in her trunk.

her volkswagen golf stood solitary and alone in the parking lot, no other cars for miles. if liam was here, he'd be asking where her pepper spray was, god forbid anything happen to his baby sister.

there was only a year between them, but sometimes she swore that liam acted as if there were five.

the cold dug into her skin as she hobbled through the parking lot, trying to keep her head on a swivel as she once again asked herself why she had parked so far away from any other car. she fumbled with the trunk button (which was unresponsive a lot more than it actually opened the trunk), unceremoniously dumping the box so hard that the small red car started to shake.

she slammed the trunk shut, frowning as she ran a fingertip over the small spot of rust that had begun to form where the silver letters proclaimed to the world what kind of car she drove met the painted trunk door.

she opened the car door, slipping into the driver's seat and staring at the overhead door lights, which had not illuminated as they were intended to when the door opens.

"motherfucker." she mumbled. "i'm gonna have to replace the latch, aren't i?" this was not new. she'd had multiple issues with the car, buying it from a dealership that advertised mostly on facebook.

never again, the next car she buys will be certified pre-owned from a volkswagen dealer, not a used car lot.

the latch would need replacing eventually: it had already locked up the door and prevented her from opening her car, even after smashing the unlock button on her keys five times. she rolled her eyes, closing the door and sliding the key into the ignition.

the key turned, but the car didn't start. growing increasingly panicked, she turned the key a few more times, the same ministrations that normally started up the ten year old car.

"fuck!" she howled, slamming her hands down on the steering wheel as the engine refused to turn over again. she reached for the headlight button, feeling her stomach drop to the floor when there was no response from the headlights.

the engine battery was dead.

she was stranded, alone, in a dark parking lot at night.

it didn't get more fucked than that.

she reached for her phone, the screen providing the only light source as she fumbled for the lock button, and making sure her finger hovered steadily over the panic alarm on her keys. just in case.

who was she going to call, she wondered, scrolling through her contacts. definitely not liam, she couldn't trouble him like that. remind him that she'd always need protecting. she could call her best friend, but the likelihood that margot would know what to do was slim. besides, she was probably out with her boyfriend if she wasn't at work.

her finger hovered over a name, and she debated long and hard if it was worth it, if she was really desperate enough to ask him for help. would he come? would he consider it strange that his best friend's baby sister was calling in the middle of the night because she was dumb enough to drain her car battery?

right now, it didn't look like she really had a choice. unless she wanted to call a tow truck and be out a couple hundred bucks.

"hello?"

"yuki, it's y/n. i need your help."

when the headlights of yuki's honda civic type r lit up the parking lot, she could have cried from relief. the dead battery also meant no heat, and she was chilled to the bone, teeth chattering together as she clutched her phone in one hand and her keys in the other.

"thank god you're here!" she blurted, scrambling out of the car as yuki pulled into the parking space on her passenger side. "i didn't know who else to call!"

ah, yes. yuki tusnoda. backlit by his headlights, he looked like a guardian angel. he'd been close with the lawsons since he came to england, being practically adopted when he moved in with liam at milton keynes, like some fucked up version of a college roommate scheme.

not to mention that he was funny, hot as hell, and she never knew if his cheerful, gentle ribbing meant he looked at her as more than a friend. every time he gifted her a casserole dish of something he had cooked, or invited her out when he and liam went somewhere, she couldn't help but think that maybe he liked her the way that she liked him.

in a way that was anything but just friendly.

"didn't you just get something fixed on your car?" yuki frowned popping his car hood open and digging around in his glove box for the jumper cables.

"i changed a headlight last week. the last major thing was the driveshaft, i couldn't fix that myself, had to take it in." she frowned, lifting up the hood of her own car, using her phone light to find the battery cover. "the car is a piece of shit, but at least it's reliable. and the driveshaft was covered by the dealership since it should have been on the safety certification and wasn't."

yuki frowned, untangling the cables before he dropped them to the pavement, peeling off his puffer jacket. "your lips are blue. take my jacket. i doubt liam would like it if let his little sister get hypothermia"

"pneumonia."

"same difference."

"not really." she laughed, pulling yuki's jacket over her own thin flannel trench coat. she hated wearing a thick winter coat when she drove, relying almost entirely on her car's heated seats to keep warm without suffocating.

"if i get sick because i sacrificed my jacket for you, i should hope that you'd be the one to take care of me. you know, since it was your own fault." yuki chuckled, hooking up the cables as y/n tried to keep warm

"fuck you. i could have stayed in the car."

"the car doesn't have heat either."

oh. yeah. she forgot about that one.

"well, i could have stayed in your fancy ass sports car." it didn't matter how she phrased it, she was just trying to butter him up. on a normal day, she made fun of him for driving a honda civic, calling it a 'mom-mobile'.

with the jumper cables fully connected, they both settled into the honda to wait it out. usually, the rule of thumb was fifteen minutes, but she wasn;t sure that she could stand to be in a car with yuki for that long without doing something reckless.

she slipped out of his jacket, moving to pass it to him before he gestured vaguely to the backseat. the heated seats were on, but she could still see the puffs of air leaving her body as she breathed heavily.

"thanks for coming. i didn't know who to call."

yuki turned to look at her, turning down the volume on the radio. it was a shame, too. she was quite enjoying 'teenage dirtbag'. "why didn't you call liam?"

"pride, i think. he's always been the favourite, the one that stuck with it, the one that made something of himself. i don't need to admit to him that i need help, that i don't know things. because i do, it just sometimes takes me a little longer to get it, or i give up too quickly."

yuki frowned. "liam worries about you, you know. he doesn't like seeing you upset. and he's always been proud of you, so have your parents."

she shivered, pulling her sleeves over her hands. "it's just always been more upfront with liam. they keep telling me that i give up on things too quickly. you know, i realized the other day that i don't really have any hobbies any more. outside of paint nights with the girls, i don't paint anymore. i don't do any sports. reading is really all i do any more."

"that doesn't define your worth, you know. you've got other things going on right now that are taking up your time." yuki encouraged, fiddling with the heating dial. "hey, speaking of which, what are you doing here so late at night?"

she groaned, tilting her head back. "god, this is embarrassing." she hid her head in her hands before turning back to yuki. "promise not to laugh too hard?"

"why would i laugh at you?"

"i was picking up advance copies of my first book." she turned and looked out the window, at the empty parking lot illuminated solely by yuki's headlights. "i've spent the better part of the last two years working on it, and i'm scared i'm going to fail at it like i failed at everything else."

she felt a warm hand overtop of hers. "that's incredible. that's such a major accomplishment, y/n. why are you doubting yourself? you've made it this far."

she smiled, turning to face him. "yeah, but how many people want to read about a detective in small-town new zealand who lives in a haunted house?"

yuki raised an eyebrow. "you already have my interest."

and what great author could resist going on and on about their latest endeavor?

"okay, so it's about this detective in new zealand, she's just moved to this small town as part of a so-called promotion, but really she was desperate and only took the job because she wanted out of the city, a nice change of scenery and whatever. but after she moves in, she finds out the house is haunted and the ghosts actually end up helping her solve her first big case."

she left out the part about how there were three ghosts: one was a dead rockstar, one was a nineteen-thirties midwife and the other was a dead nun. the witty banter between the group of them was a joy to write.

"she also has a crush on this guy who lives across the street. he's an autobody mechanic, with a collection of classic cars."

who totally wasn't inspired by yuki and his gorgeous brown eyes or luscious black hair. well, her one argument was that book guy was about a foot taller than yuki was.

"hell yeah, i'd read that." yuki laughed. "or i'd watch the movie, depending on how long the book was."

y/n laughed, and it felt good. it felt like it had bene forever since she laughed. "it's a cozy mystery series, so it's supposed to make you laugh, be predictable. i took notes from agatha christie, the best of the best. i just hope that the general consumer market also sees it that way."

"i'm sure you'll do fine. as long as it's not like, five hundred pages long, i can't see why anybody wouldn't want to read it."

catching y/n's eye, yuki snickered. "it's not that long, is it?"

"no, it's just under three hundred. they made me cut the sex scenes out."

she watched yuki's eyes go wide, before she burst out laughing as well.

"i'm kidding!" she giggled. "i'm kidding, there aren't any sex scenes in cozy mysteries."

despite how warm the car was, a shiver went down yukis spine at the thought that the innocent, angelic young woman sitting next him, separated only only by the center console, had written numerous sex scenes.

“would you read it? now that you know how many pages it has?”

“yes.” yuki insisted. “of course I would. Liam’s shown me some of your novellas. you are such a good writer. a real talent.”

she yawned, leaning back against the leather seat with a yawn and a shake of her head. “if this book crashes and burns, I’ll remind you you said that. hey, would you be willing to give me a starred review to print on the back cover?”

yuki hummed for a minute, looking up at the sunroof and then back at the girl sitting next to him. “hmm, great mystery, lovely author, not enough sex and could use more descriptions of food.” he joked, playfully gripping her shoulder.

“yeah, yeah. you think you’re so funny.” she laughed, pushing his arm off her shoulder. “but I’m glad that you’re here. you make much better company than my brother does.”

yukis hand dropped to her thigh, thumb gently rubbing along her jeans. “always. any time you need me, you know I’m a phone call away.”

yeah, bust she wished he was closer than even that. and if she kept staring into his dark ocean eyes, she feared she’d do something she’d regret. something impulsive and reckless and foolish but god damn would it have felt fucking good.

“y/n, you good? you’re kind of staring into space there.” yuki frowned, waving a nimble hand in front of her face, trying to capture her attention.

she chuckled. “not space, just the dashboard lights.”

“isn’t that a meat loaf song?”

she laughed, the sound coming from so deep in her chest as she turned to look at yuki. really, it shouldn’t have been that funny. all she knew was that she really, really wanted to kiss him.

she didn’t wait, lunging across the center console, hands shaking nervously as she rested them on either side of his face, pressing her chapped lips to his.

she had to hold herself back from moaning as yuki kissed her back, his warm hand caressing her sides under her open trench coat.

his touch was soft, safe, and comforting. but it was also electric, and left her wanting more when he finally pulled away for air.

“your car is probably charged”. he said nervously, blushing pink as he wiped away the saliva from his mouth. “I’d hate to kiss and run, but you probably want to get home.”

she rested her forehead against his, laughing softly as he rubbed his thumb over her wrist. “at least take me out to dinner before you kiss me and leave me hanging.”

“it’s a little late for dinner, but how does a late night caramel sundae sound?” he suggested weakly, shrugging his shoulders. mcdonalds was hardly first date material, but he knew he didn’t want this night to end, didn’t want to risk losing this magical moment.

“you drive and I’ll follow?”

“sounds good.” yuki grinned, kissing her again. “but just let me kiss you for a few more minutes to make sure that battery is well and truly charged.”

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @lorarri @cartierre @sidcrosbyspuck @userlando @httpiastri @love4lando @oconso @thatsdemko @monzabee

[tuliptired]

hi! can i request a egan x complete opposite reader? like someone so different like a model or actress of some sort

Uptown Girl

Pairings: Egon Spengler/Fem!Actress!Reader

sorry for looking at stantzler yaoi while this was sitting in my drafts

Better formatting on Ao3!

Peter could tell something was up with his friend. Something different from the norm. In the past handful of weeks, Egon’s turned into a fidgety, flighty mess. Misprinting calculations, misplacing tools- all in blue. He was wearing so much more blue. The reticent man never really had a favorite color, something Peter relearned everytime he probed him when bored, but this was just way too out of character. Egon? Color coordinating? Insanity.

He had a discarded newspaper open at his excuse for an office, spacing out while Ray messed around with Janine’s little TV, Winston holding a flashlight over it for him. She had won it when she was small, the faulty wiring spilling out the back panel a testament to its age. 

Janine sat up impatiently, folding her magazine. “It’s almost time Ray, is it working?” 

Ray dropped his pair of pliers. “It should be,” he said unconfidently, screwing the paneling back on as Winston adjusted the antenna. The machine crackled and popped, sounds and images cutting in and out as it gained and lost a signal.

The subject of Peter’s suspicions came down the stairs flinching at the noise, looking to pass and leave the firehouse but too intrigued by the feat of electrical engineering happening at Janine’s desk. “What’s this?” 

Peter’s eyes narrowed at the barely there sight of a shiny, new silver watch. Christ, were those blue diamonds? Everyone who’s regularly stepped foot into the firehouse has tried and failed at attempting to get Egon to upgrade his wristwear, the old brown thing that barely had an audible tick. Peter’s own seasonal gifts for him got fancier and fancier as the years went on, Egon turning down a Timex with an alarm at one point. He insisted that anything he could go out and buy would serve the same purpose as the beatdown leather already owned- regardless of needing to squint to see the arms.  

She opened her magazine back up again, fluttering through glossed pages until she found the right one. “You’ve heard of that one show, right?” Janine held up an advertisement for the program, promoting big guests like Madonna or Robin Williams. “I’ve been trying to catch the reruns-”

“And I’ve been trying to tell her that it ruins the integrity of the show.”

“If I wasn’t locked up in here every Saturday night, I wouldn’t have to. Don’t put down the receiver, Winston.”

Ray watched with his fist under his chin as the signal got closer and closer to whatever channel he had twisted the knob for. Janine sat up straighter, flipping to a different page. “Anyway, there’s a new actress on there, and I don’t wanna miss her.”

Winston leaned over to check if the screen was any clearer. “My sister showed me an article on her. Very fashionable.” 

“I know, her picture was on billboard on 46th,” Janine raved, “you’d like her, Peter.”

He shook his head, licking his pointer finger to get to a different section of the paper. “I’m more into musicians.”

Egon spoke up, eyebrows furrowed. “You’re mistaken, Peter. She’s an incredibly talented actress with an incredible repertoire.”

Looks were exchanged between all of them. If the elephant in the room was offended, he didn’t show it. “What?”

“Nothing,” Ray shrugged, “it’s just…she’s so..”

“Outgoing.”

“Witty.”

“Expressive.”

“And you’re you! Nothing wrong with it,” Ray patted his taller friend’s shoulder.

Egon looked at his colleagues blankly. “I can still enjoy her work, despite certain character differences.”

The TV finally got a stable connection, though not celebrated by anyone in the room as Egon’s anomaly took up all their attention. “I thought you didn’t have a television?” Winston questioned, moving the antenna again and losing the stream.

“I don’t.”

Peter raised an incredulous eyebrow to him from across the room. Something like a realization flashed behind Egon’s eyes, before he turned his eyes from their gaze and cleared his throat. “I’m going home early tonight. Call me if you need anything.”

That certainly didn’t do anything to soothe Peter’s speculation. Egon barely ever went home. If anything, the only reason he had an apartment to his name was because it was expected of him after graduating his last year of university. Even so, he was barely ever there, spending his nights slumped over in a lab- Columbia’s or otherwise. Peter would be surprised if the man was still paying rent.

Ray and Winston must’ve been carrying the same sentiment. “We’ll still be seeing you tomorrow, right Eges?”

 The man stood stiffly, as if under a spotlight. “Hopefully.” He was motionless, before grabbing Janine’s TV and scurrying out the door.

“Hey!”

Strange indeed.

Egon walked briskly under the fluorescent lighting of the hallway. It was almost 7, after all. A warm brown bag of Chinese food sat under his arm as he got closer to the rickety door. He hesitated to turn the key, hearing staticky music on the other side. When he did, there you were, surrounded by brown bags just like his and messing with the antiquated radio by his stovetop. It felt odd, and strangely smug, to have you in his tiny and bland apartment after his friends praised your stardom.

Your manicured fingers turned the volume down. “Sorry! It’s hard to entertain myself here when you don’t have a TV.” The same woman that was all over Times Square was here, in his kitchen, placing a kiss to his cheek. 

“I do now,” he juggled the boxy appliance before you took it from him gently.

“Where’d you get this? It’s adorable,” you smiled, inspecting it. He peered into the bags cluttering his limited counter space as he put down your dinner, some holding groceries and some with wrapped packages.

“A friend. What’re these?” Egon didn’t have to turn to you to see the guilty expression you had while he pulled out containers of takeout. You had a bad habit of buying him luxuries he never thought he would need.

You grabbed a few things from one of the sacks, opening his outdated fridge. “I know we agreed to you bringing dinner, but it’s just a few things for when you’re on your own.” He wrinkled his nose.

“I have food.”

Egon watched you teeter your palm back and forth, grabbing another bag and opening one of his cabinets. “What’s the point of eating-out if you never eat-in?” 

“You shouldn’t have gone through the trouble.”

He felt nice as you smiled at him, folding the discarded paper and tossing it in the bin. “You know I don’t mind.” It would’ve been a sweet moment, if there wasn’t another bag on the counter that caught his attention, which you scrambled to pull away. Before you could, he brought it to his lap, gazing down inside.

He pulled out different wrapped packages, labels from one of the most expensive department stores in the area. “Y/N.”

You put your hands up in defense, lowering yourself into the stool across from him.  “I know, I know. But, look!” You leaned over, showcasing one. “New curtains! And there’s a watch in there, somew-here.”

Egon’s eyes nearly popped out when he found a little box, forgotten at the bottom, with a price tag higher than what two ghostbusters made in a week. “You have to return this,” he decided, hardly opening it before snapping it shut.

“You don’t like it?”

“I do. I appreciate you getting it. But you can’t keep spending your money on me.”

You knelt on your hand, disappointment clearly subsiding as you used the other one to open up the food. “It doesn’t make a difference to me. I was in that area, anyway.”

He passed you a plastic fork. “How come?”

“I had an appointment with my dress guy,” you started. He’d be embarrassed to admit it, but it took him an abnormally long time to realize that you were referring to the people you regularly bought things from, rather than lightly suggesting a polyamorous relationship. “And he showed me the finished product for Friday! Isn’t it exciting?”

You produced a print from your purse, handing it to him with a bright smile. It was a dress on a mannequin- very bold, very you, and very blue. “It is.” Egon grinned sincerely, admiring the idea. “Very beautiful.”

You stabbed your fork into a vegetable, seemingly forlorn as he put the photo aside. “It’s a shame you’ll only get to see it on TV. Unless, you wanna be my date,” you perked.

Egon could feel himself frown. In any other world, he would be at your side every hour of every day- every interview, airing, or red carpet appearance. But he was still Egon, through and through. So you compromised on “waiting until the right time” to make your relationship public.

“Not this time,” he avoided looking at you. You were understanding, you always were, but he could imagine how irritating a constant no could be.

He jumped as your head hit the countertop. “You’ll let everyone know at the wedding,” you groaned. Egon moved to console you, worried about having hurt your feelings, before your head snapped back up.

“Kidding.” He let out a sigh he couldn’t recall holding in. “You wanna be there when I get ready? You could help me with the zipper,” you leaned forward, voice teasing him. He couldn’t refuse.

“Of course,” Egon smiled, before it fell. “I’m sorry. That I keep telling you no.”

You shrugged, waving him off. How undeserving he was, to be loved by someone so forgiving. “I know. You’re an interesting guy, Egon. It’ll happen when it happens.” You had his hand in yours, brushing his knuckles as you looked on at each other earnestly.

Something caught your attention, breaking eye contact, Egon shrinking at the loss of connection. You turned in your seat to the rest of the apartment. “I never told you! I noticed you started decorating!”

It was a small place, only one bedroom and older than most people Egon’s age would be proud of. When he first moved in, the only things he took the liberty of situating were: a bed, a chair, various papers and books and scientific projects. It was more a storage space, rather than one to live in. He dawned on this the first time you offered to have him over, realizing that he’d have to return the favor- after picking up a bit. It’s not much right now, save for more furniture and ambience, but there was always something new whenever you visited. “After you told me it had the feng shui of an asylum.”

“Then we both have something to work on.”

“What was this doing in the mail this morning?” Peter bounded the steps to the second tier of the firehouse. Ray and Winston were trying their best to pick up around the kitchen, while Egon was hunched over his workbench, jittery and unorganized. Whatever he was keeping from them, it did a good job at keeping him from work. This would’ve been a nice change for the doctor, if it didn’t mean Peter had to be alert for any sudden fires.

He passed the booklet to Winston, whose eyes widened like a cartoon as the centerfold unfurled into two more pages. “Holy…”

“Maybe it’s Janine’s?” Ray proposed, cheeks pink as he clumsily folded them back up.

Her voice called up from downstairs, before the front door slammed shut. “I don’t read that brand, and if I did I wouldn’t be working here.”

That left the three men, standing in tense silence. Not Peter, he was tasteful with his filth- tucked away in the hidden part of his filing cabinet. 

“Why would one of us order something like this in the mail?”

Peter gently took it from Winston. “Alright, no need to embarrass anyone. My mail is your mail is your mail is my mail.”’ He jumped to a random page, settling into the couch. “We’re all friends here.”

Ray and Winston hesitantly crowded around him, unabashedly eager to view what was inside. Egon, however, was frozen at his desk, lab coat halfway off.

“Donna Rice stuns in a poolside photo…Madonna looks nice here…” The professor was a second away from crumpling. Schadenfreude.

Ray shrugged one of his shoulders, leaning over the armrest. “Some of these aren’t so bad,” he admitted. 

Peter let out a low whistle. “Here’s the girl you like so much, Spengs. Orange dress.” Egon rose then, a bit less catatonic as he shrugged his lab coat off, back to his friends.

“She wouldn’t wear orange this season. Or any season. It doesn’t pair well with anything and it washes her out.”

Peter blinked. Not the angle he was looking for, but a good psychologist never quits when they’re ahead. “Did she tell you this?”

Egon visibly hardened, turning to face them. “No. In a 1986 interview with People, in the second paragraph of the 12th page, she said she’d never wear anything long and orange at the same time.”

Peter slowly revealed the page to him, speaking even slower. “Sorry, superfan. She was wearing green.”

The professor only stared, before clearing his throat and fixing his clothes a bit, Ray and Winston silent at Peter’s side as he rolled up the print. “I’m leaving for the night. And I’m taking the car.”

He was halfway out the room before Ray stuttered, taken aback. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you drive, Spengs.”

“And you can’t take the car.” Peter chided

Egon stilled on the staircase. “I have the keys. And there aren’t any jobs in the morning- you can do without it. Goodnight.”

Peter tapped the shiny paper against his palm a few times, turning to the men at his side. “He’s either selling drugs, or he’s trying to ditch us."

Sure, Egon wasn’t much of a driver. But he’d make the commute if he wanted to see you. Eventually, streets lined with skyscrapers and taxis melted into roads lined with starlight and trees as he carefully recalled the directions to your house just outside the city, surrounded by woodlands. He knew you'd wouldn’t be back until late in the night, so he was content busying himself with your chores until the sounds of a Mustang screeching to a halt in your driveway peeled him away from the last dish in the sink.

Egon carefully peeked out one of your windows, watching as you jumped out the backseat of the hastily parked car. “I probably just left a light on! One sec!” Your door handle jiggled with the turn of keys, before you poked your head in, voice low.

“Wanna say hi?”

He politely declined, and you were halfway out the door again, waving goodbye to your friends, before they skidded off into the night. Your home was a stark contrast to his own, decorated and personable without becoming clumsy. But, many a night you’d crooned to him over the phone about how empty it can get. So, there he was.

“You didn’t have to come all this way,” Egon felt you mummer against his back, arms wrapped around his middle while he finished wiping down the edge of the sink, light fragrance mingling with the smell of dish soap. You always smelt good, after a night out.

“I wanted to. Did you have fun?” he inquired, hearing you hum as you peeled yourself from him, lurking towards the stairs.

“As much,” Egon bent behind you to collect your discarded shoes, “as I could have.”

He caught the earrings you pinched off from your earlobes. ‘They didn’t show you a good time?”

You paused in front of your bedroom door, waiting for Egon to open it, which he did. “It was a great time- I love premieres.” You lowered yourself onto the large mattress, calling out to him as he went into the master bathroom to start a bath. “But, I think you know very well why I wanted to come home.”

“I wonder,” he mused chaffingly, sitting behind you on the bed. His favorite night time routine, whenever he was around after you successfully painted the town red. The events and invitations just got bigger and bigger, increasingly extravagant the longer he knew you. Here he was, getting farther and farther over the hill. In spite of it all, he liked taking care of you, especially when you were wearied from an evening of fun.

You leaned forward as he gently unclasped the jewelry from around your neck, careful not to bust the fastener. “I’m happy you’re here now, Egon.” he heard you coo tiredly and softly. Egon pressed a devoted kiss to the nape of your neck where the metal had lay, drawing out a delighted laugh from underneath him.

“Then I’m glad I came.”

Both of you just sat there, warmth against warmth until Egon remembered that your faucet was still running. He took to unzipping the back of your gown. “Is it safe to assume my friends are becoming suspicious of me?”

“Oh yeah? What’re they doing?” you pondered, helping him as you stepped out of the pooling fabric.

“Pictures of you. Peter got a hold of one of your spreads.” Egon mulled. He carefully collected the material, laying it out on a chair in front of your expansive closet. He really appreciated those photographers, any other time. Particularly, when you weren’t available for so long.

Another thing he enjoyed about nights like these- you in your underclothing. Oh, guilty pleasures. But the sight vanished into the bathroom almost as soon as he took it in. “Did you tell them I was your outgoing, witty and expressive girlfriend?” 

Egon couldn’t help but follow you. “They seemed to have come to that conclusion on their own.” Egon stood against your sink while you sunk into the water- he knew you were pretty clean, but a washroom floor was still a washroom floor.

“I’m sure you have them fooled.” you guessed, leaning on the edge of the tub.

“I think so. But-” he noticed the look you were giving him. “You’re being sarcastic.”

He let you laugh at his expense, handing you various soaps from the caddy above. He’d been meaning to get a similar bottle to keep at his place, if you were ever willing to spend the night. What would your people say- if you didn’t come around when they were expecting you to? “And you? What do your friends think?” Egon queried. 

“They’ve been onto me. And they tell me: ‘bring him around sometime- one night can’t hurt,’” you teased. “There’s a blue suit to go with my dress waiting for you, if you really want.”

Egon felt so defenseless as you gazed up at him, extending the same invitation you’d been extending time and time again. Reservations be damned. The greatest person he knew was letting him spend a night in their arms- and he’d be anything but himself if he let the opportunity slip away again.

“I’ll go.”

“What?”

“On Friday. I’ll go with you. If you’ll have me.”

You beamed, sitting up and leaning impossibly close to him as he let himself kneel against the porcelain. “Oh, Egon! I could kiss you!” Your wet skin dripped onto the dainty rim.

“Why not?” he teased. Before the question could leave his lips, you had the end of his tie in your hand, nearly dragging him into the bath with you.

He could barf. Absolutely lose his cool in the back of this expensive car, or in front of all your famous friends. As happy as Egon was to experience a slice of your life with you, his nerves were on fire. He must’ve seriously underestimated the turnout of this thing- reality settling in as a number of stylists flooded your house as the evening approached. He felt the embrace of your hands on his jaw, as you made him look at you.

“You don’t have to talk to anyone, if you don’t want to. Just keep holding my hand.” You were glowing. “And- you look great. But…something’s missing,” you muttered. He swallowed hard, dreading what he managed to leave behind. He was breathless as you left a quick kiss off the center of his lips, laughing as you parted. “There,” you giggled.

“Mr. Spengler? There’s a call for you.” the hostess told him, peeling him away from the table of A-listers. As he answered the phone by the kitchen, he could recognize a familiar, angry voice.

“Egon Spengler.”

“Hello, Janine.”

The floodgates opened, and he could practically hear her nails digging into the desk. “I could rip your head off. Is that where you go all day? Hanging out with gorgeous celebrities? Why didn’t you tell us? You’re sitting at dinner with Mel Gibson! You should’ve introduced me. Why didn’t you introduce me? I would’ve killed to meet her- if I had met Einstein I would’ve introduced you. What’s next- you’re having tea with Cher? You disappear for weeks at a time, and we have to watch a tiny TV screen to find out you’re at an award show with a red lipstick stain on your face? You-”

“I’m sorry to cut this so short, Janine. But my wonderful girlfriend has an accolade to accept.”

[gucciwins]

one last message 

word count: 2.2k

a/n: love on tour has come to an end 😭 it seemed only fitting to say goodbye to it with a small blurb from the love on tour series , the story of harry styles and y/n belmonte. thank you for all the love you always give me and i hope this blurb is enough to put a smile on your face. i love you, friends 💜

+

You adjusted the camera as you had it leaning against the bathroom mirror. You had finished your skincare and knew tomorrow was a big night for Harry and the entire Love on tour crew. There was a lot up in the air for your career and what was next, but in the next twelve hours, all you could think about was your boyfriend. He would be saying goodbye to a tour he poured his heart into, but most importantly, he was stepping away from what he loved to take a well deserved break. Harry couldn’t stay away long; he’d be back. They all knew it was only a matter of when.

Harry was in bed; he had fallen asleep as you played with his hair and told him about your day. The pasta you made from scratch at the cooking lesson you found in a small neighborhood. It wasn’t advertised, but the chef took a liking to you when you asked him more about his favorite dishes. It seemed that was enough to grant you a special spot in Mr. Caruso’s kitchen. He tried to play off his nerves, but you knew him well enough that this final show would be one he wanted to remember forever.

Once you knew your phone wouldn’t fall, you pulled up Instagram and started a live. It’s been a while since you did one. Usually, you do an origami piece with your fans to catch up with them. Tonight would be a little different. You hadn’t been on for a minute, and the number was increasing by the second.

Twenty.

Five hundred.

Three thousand in under two minutes.

“Hi, everyone,” you greeted cheerfully. “Sorry, I haven’t done one of these in a while. Life has been busy.”

The comments began to flood with “hellos” and “I love you,” but also a lot of mentions of Barbie, the film you finished promoting and starred in. You moved past those comments and instead focused on one asking where you were.

“I’m in my bathroom. I finished my skincare for the night and thought we could chat briefly.” You giggled as you saw Lloyd joining in. The number was past 35k, and although you thought it was ridiculous at this hour in Italy, the rest of the world was running at different times. “Lloyd!!! Buddy!!! Go to sleep!” You tease.

You first.

Shaking your head, you try to see if he comments again, but the comments are coming in at lightning speed.

Cariñoooooooo

“Sarai, cómo va tu día?” How is your day? You ask your best friend.

Boring. Send me a flight to Italy.

You frown at the screen. “Be quiet. I asked if you wanted to come. You said you were busy.”

A cousin’s wedding. Remember.

“Right. You’re officiating for them. I’ll see you in a few weeks,” you assure them knowing Naomi and Sarai will be staying with you for a week–two if you manage to convince them.

Where’s Harry?

Are you in Italy?

One last show!!!!

I loveeeee you!!!!!!

Final outfit reveal

Show harry

I love the new movie

A simple night. Though lots of questions if you would be in Italy for the final show as no one has seen you for a few weeks and where Harry was. You decided to do the live to connect with the fans, but you also wanted to go to bed and join Harry because even a room away, you missed him. You wanted to talk with the fans to share you feel the same sadness that tour is ending because Love on Tour gave you Harry, and that’s something you’d never forget. The same feeling they all feel staring at Harry while being in the crowd is one that you feel too. You can’t describe it, but you all know it well.

You think back to that night in St. Paul when you locked eyes with Harry and knew life would never be the same again. You can honestly say you didn’t expect to fall in love with him and go on this crazy journey two years later, but there is nothing you’d change in your life because it led you straight to him.

“It might seem odd, I’m here talking with you late into the night.” You laugh at people calling out your time zone. “Well, it’s late for me. Maybe even weirder to do it without my overalls and stack of origami paper,” you take a deep breath before continuing. “I know a lot of you know about my relationship. How private we keep it because not everything is meant to be shared online. I like things to be mine, but Harry has never been mine alone. A piece of his heart belongs to each of you, and it’s not something I will ever forget. I am fortunate to love him and be loved by him. I don’t ever take it for granted.” You sniffle and turn away from the camera to compose yourself, but you know it won’t work. When you look back, the comments are filled with love, and it keeps you going. “Love on tour allowed Harry and I to reconnect and truthfully fall in love. I won’t say more because it’s something special to us, but Love on Tour ending is bittersweet. It’s a tour full of love where many of you met friends, best friends, and lovers. You know what it means to love someone because of an event and because of the distance. The love will only grow stronger, and that I can promise.”

You grin at Pauli’s comment saying how much they love you. You found the love of your life, but you also met new friends and built a bigger family.

“Whether you’re a fan of mine or only following me to get an update on Harry, I want to thank you for your kindness, not to me but towards him. If there is anyone who deserves all the love in the world, it is him. Most of you wonder why I’m saying this here and not to Harry, but he knows. I can promise you he does. Think he might be fed up with all the love and support I shower him with, but I’m doing it because I want to look back at this, who knows, maybe five, ten, twenty years from now, and be glad I shared this with you all. If anything, it’s something Harry can look back at when we have to be apart for longer than a day. Harry, sé que no estás viendo esto, pero eres el amor de mi vida. Un último baile mañana y estaremos de camino a casa. Que sigas cumpliendo todos tus sueños, mi estrella.”

You thank everyone for watching and signing off, turning off your phone, knowing the buzzing will start immediately. You know it will be shared all over the internet, and articles will be written by the time you wake up in a few hours. Usually, it’s something you’re careful about, but tonight you don’t mind. You’re proud of Harry, and you’re allowed to show it whenever you wish. You turn your phone off, knowing Harry loves his morning ringtone better than yours.

Turning the lights off, you know as soon as you’re wrapped in Harry’s arms, you're headed straight to dreamland. Crawling into bed is easy; moving the covers away from Harry proves to be a struggle every night. You shush him quietly to not wake him, and it seems to work until he shuffles over and drags you to lay flat on your back while he gets comfortable on your chest. He would forever be your little spoon.

“I love you, baby,” he mutters into the quiet of the night.

It makes your heart race even after two years together. You kiss the top of his head and repeat your favorite three words to him.

+

The final show has been nothing short of magical. Harry would spend the entire night on stage if he could, but you all know the show is close to ending. Harry, from the morning, had been cheerful from waking you up with a morning orgasm that led to making love, and once he let you get clothes on a walk along the water. You know he had seen your little speech but made no move to bring it up. It wasn’t necessary because you constantly told him how proud you were, and it was evident in how you proudly showed Harry off all day to a crew that already knew and loved him. You don’t know if someone texted it to him or if he happened to see it on Instagram, but he walked all day with an extra pep in his step. It could have also been the sex. Not a hint of sadness could be detected, and it eased your worries because it meant he was ready for a well deserved break.

You spent the show with Anne and Gemma, dancing your heart out. You knew Glenne and Jeff would pull you in for a final mosh pit as Harry danced his heart out to “Kiwi.” Harry had thanked the fans endlessly throughout the entire night. His speeches always bring tears to your eyes. He thanked the band and the crew. He thanked his family for the support they offered the past thirteen years. You didn’t expect a speech dedicated to you, so it caught you off guard when he mentioned you. All your shared family and friends cheered so loud, making it easy for Harry to spot you and even easier for the camera’s to find you and show you on the screens.

“I don’t know if some of you saw, but my girlfriend gave a lovely speech last night on a live,” Harry smiles as the crowd cheers for you. “She poured her heart out to you while I was sleeping.” He wags his finger playfully. “Like she doesn’t know I love my ego to be fed. Her love is something I feel even when she’s not around, but I am thankful she’s here tonight. She’s here, and she’s been dancing and singing all night. It's my favorite thing in the world seeing her happy.” Harry can see Glenne nudging her playfully, but your eyes never leave his. “I love being on stage and performing for you all. It’s everything I dreamed of, and I can’t wait to return soon to do it again.” Harry gives you a dimpled smile, and you know the look in his eye; even from a distance, you know he wishes he could kiss you. “No one tells you how much you miss out on. Family celebrations, nieces' first steps, and even graduations. The biggest to the littlest things matter. Bel has reminded me that even when I’m not there, I can send a reminder that I’m thinking of my family and friends. That everyone understands I’m doing what I love. I love being here with you all, but I also love being home.” Harry places a hand over his heart. “Bel has made me a better son, friend, and partner. Now I know this is sappy, and maybe you’re over this, and she’s going to tell me after this wasn’t necessary, but I do want it to be known that I’m happy. I have never been happier. And while I will be going away for some time, I want you to know I’m in good hands until I return and am yours again.”

The cheers are a mix of sobs and relief, knowing he will be back even with no set date. You can’t seem to stop crying. All the comforting Anne is doing is working, but it’s as if Harry broke you open by pouring his heart out for you on stage.

“He’s a bit of a romantic, my little one,” Anne teases as she squeezes you tighter.

“You’re telling me. I’m no match.”

Anne laughs, “you flew out the entire family and act like that’s not the greatest gesture.”

It’s true. You planned with Anne to make sure everyone could make it out by planning accommodations and rides for the final show to go smoothly for them. Harry deserved a large celebration, and it was important to have his family here. Naomi wanted to be here because if it weren’t for your best friend, you wouldn’t have found Harry in 2021 though Harry liked to think your paths would cross either way. Naomi’s parents, Ruby and Phil, made the journey for Harry. They happily welcomed him into the family. Viola flew in for the celebration as had Violet, your goddaughter with her father Alex.. Your family had become his, and they were here to celebrate two incredible years of a tour filled with love and joy. He deserved to have his family here after missing them so much. There was a wonderful celebration to come after the show ended.

“Guess we compliment each other well like that,” you told Anne. Small moments that reminded you how much a perfect fit you are for each other.

Harry clears his throat, “now, I’m sure Bel is flustered and wants me to stop, so I will. Thank you for being here. Thank you for changing my life. I love you.” He points at you, and you blow him a kiss he pretends to catch and puts it over his heart for safekeeping.  “I love you, and I’ll miss you.”

You don’t know what the future holds for your relationship. All you know is that your love will guide you through it all. Whether you get married, have kids, or simply exist to love each other, everything will work out the way it needs to because your love was written in the stars.

+

thank you for reading! love on tour has been so magical and special for us all. i love you all and hope you go back and read this series if you’re ever missing love on tour. te quiero mucho 🤍

[sevenop]

Billie Eilish x Fem!reader: Eau De Parfum

A/n: once you love the warm and calm fragrance of Eilish no. 1, you studiously avoid its diametrical opposite - the bold and dark no. 2. According to your first impression, the languid woody trail of the perfume is not your path. But why does it feel so appealing? Billie helps you decide, revealing this fragrance in a new light.

«... cause I feel like, it's weird, but I feel like a fan myself. I just... It doesn't feel real!» - A genuine smile for the camera and a slight shrug, that's what Billie is all about. A knack for the camera and an incorruptible amount of sincerity, even when she's actually on the other side of the screen from her fans.

Eilish brought you along to shoot the launch of her fragrances Eilish and Eilish no. 2 for Ulta Beauty, and you just couldn't say no to her: your mutual desire to spend more time together and the opportunity to wander around a completely free (not counting the small film crew, a couple of consultants and security, of course) store is definitely what made you say yes. And enjoying Eilish's looseness in the crosshairs of the cameras is a huge pleasure, I must say.

After a few unsuccessful doubles, you realize that standing in the same position with your back against the wall for the last thirty minutes has been quite tiring. Darting between the many racks of cosmetics and perfumes, you try to entertain yourself a little to shake off the fatigue and late night slumber. Your gaze confusedly clings to the endless bottles of perfume, attracting you with their rich color or unusual shape. It is really difficult to concentrate on one thing, and not to lose your sense of smell after a dozen samples that you have managed to smell - something mind-bogglingly impossible. A short conversation with a nice female consultant pleasantly brightens up your wait, when you are already tired of circling the store for the third time. You come out from behind a row of boring shelves, wanting to go back, but you stop abruptly.

The confident gaze of the dark blue eyes, the seductive wet ink-black strands of hair mysteriously falling over her shoulders, the neat palms, on both sides closing black, like a symmetrically carved flacon. And, of course, devilishly inviting lips. Frankly speaking, you are staring hungry at a large advertising poster with your own girlfriend, as if you are seeing it for the first time. Well, I congratulate you.

Mixed with aesthetic admiration, thoughts of this tantalizing second perfume are in your head again: is it even worth trying it on yourself when you prefer the comfortable vanilla "hug" of the first one? Billie's languid, woody scent certainly suits her, but... what about you?

"Just a couple more minutes and you'll soon be making a hole in the glass," - the familiar velvet voice and the warmth of the palm that created a perfect 'lock' with yours, - "I'm wildly pleased, though."

Billie brings you out of your trance as suddenly as you entered it. Smiling, you close your fingers a little tighter for a few moments. A tacit confirmation that you are back in the real world.

"So... You want to give it a try after all?"

The tangle of tangled thoughts and doubts is back in motion in your head. You stare helplessly at the poster, then at Eilish herself. The better solution is to shrug your shoulders and sink your gaze into the socks of your slightly battered Jordans. Which is exactly what you're doing.

"Honestly, I don't even know, my love. On you it reveals itself so tantalizing. I don't think it would suit me."

"But you haven't even tried it," - her eyebrows come together gently the bridge of her nose in a confused squint, the word storm cloud over seas of blue.

"I know, but..."

The words remain unspoken: Billie, armed with a confident smirk, pulls you toward a rack of her own products and gallantly beckons the consultant over to you. By the end of the shoot, you're already sitting in her car with the "intimidating" dark box of a full-size bottle from the second collection on your lap.

"And yet I don't think it's mine."

"Relax, baby," Billie deftly slung the seat belt over her shoulder and turned the key in the ignition. The pleasant murmur of the engine is immediately heard in the Audi's interior, "Just let me prove how tantalizing you are. I'm sure you two will become friends."

The car slowly pulls out of the parking lot, remaining almost invisible in the night darkness that has descended on the city. And while Eilish drives the car relaxedly, biting the corner of her lips in thought, you nervously beat a rhythm with your fingers on the surface of the box that only you know. You're nervous, but you silently allow her. You allow her absolutely everything.

×××

The cool shower dampens your excitement until Billie enters the room: the singer looks like she's stepped out of that poster, except that instead of a black dress, she's wearing a long cotton T-shirt that reaches mid-thigh. Otherwise, the differences are nil, even in her hands she now has a weighty charcoal figure in the form of a woman's bust. You wince somewhat, bumping the tip of your nose against the collar of your terrycloth robe.

"I promise it won't hurt," - Billie's irony is what she finally disarms you with, sitting down at your side. Eilish's smile across from you and the rustle of the blanket, infused with a special warmth, is reassuring. You trust her, despite the childish stupidity of your situation.

"I'm ready," - you say confidently and clearly, eyes fixed on the eyes opposite, as if it were a lifeline. Billie chuckles, palm touching your cheek.

"Just let me put the finishing touches on it, my brave girl."

A second, and you're completely naked in front of her: in a few deliberately leisurely movements, Billie first loosens the knot in the waistband of your robe, then removes it altogether. The terry softness slips pleasantly off your shoulders, giving way to the sassy gaze of blue eyes. She freezes, admiring the etude that has emerged before her in the golden-warm semi-darkness of the bedroom, and you smirk. Confidence grows.

Picking up the cap of the flacon with her fingers, she apply three cool, but mentally scalding sprays: your collarbones, the area behind your ear, your wrist. Eilish takes her time, looking clearly into your eyes with each cloud of fragrance. You instantly smell the voluminous scent of ebony and palo santo, mysterious in its tranquility; you see the crazy blue lights dancing in Eilish's eyes.

"First sensations?" - The carved lid of the expensive vial taps lightly, like marble, returning to its rightful place, the vial itself flinged in the center of the bed - Eilish has no intention of being ceremonious, focusing all of her attention now on you alone.

"It's much more intimate than the no. 1. So... warm, lingering. It's like I'm in some kind of gothic cathedral with you."

"Very good, we can keep going."

And then it all blends into one continuous pleasure: hot kisses, sheets, bites, moans. Eilish is enjoying yourself, and you're absolutely lost, torn in half by the smells and sensations. Her hands seem to be everywhere; the barely husky whisper of over-the-top excitement penetrates your subcortex. When her tongue traces a path between your collarbones and downward, you can smell the poppy odor. Placing a few bright hickeys on your neck, a perfumed black pepper shoots into your nose, driving you both crazy. Eilish hungrily grabs your thighs, spreading them a little more - the scent of papyrus is more pronounced in the air. She kneels down, tongue placing the place where it's hottest right now - you smell vanilla, making you throw your head back and breathe intermittently. Only lastly, apple blossom and bergamot cover you with their tranquility as you cum, rhythmically thrusting yourself onto her fingers.

The diametric opposite in flavor perception is replaced by understanding. Eilish no. 2 is a long-awaited night shared by two, something that envelops you with desire and passion, something that gives you the confidence. It's a flavor closer than any other.

"Perfume always opens up on hot skin in a different way. And it suits you no less than it suits me," - she playfully whispers into your jaw line before you both fall asleep in each other's arms.

[hq-movie-reviews]

Anora- ★★★★★ (Spoilers)

First Watched- 10/18/2024

Anora broke my heart. 

Now, I don’t want to be that guy, but I feel like this movie was made for me. I don’t want to be that guy, but I’ve been on board with this film since Mikey Madison’s casting. Additionally, when this movie won the Palme d’Or a day after my birthday, I was locked in. I figured this movie was sent down from a higher power just for me, and I was right.

When I think of Anora, I think less of the comedic moments than I think of the echoes of the tragedy of Anora herself. Anora is a story about difference. It is a story about love, and how that larger-than-life, human feeling can manifest in the most unexpected ways. 

One of the reasons this film is so effective is how these deeply human themes can be so prevalent behind humor. The movie plays into irony so well- in fact, I think this is one of the funniest movies of the year. There were points where my hand would fly to my mouth so I wouldn’t, like, cause a scene. This is mostly due to the fact that the dialogue in this film is so sharp, and most importantly, so real. Sean Baker’s writing oozes charisma, and the actors accentuate that beyond what I could’ve imagined. 

Mikey Madison is a star. I seriously believe she is locked in for the Oscar, or, at the very least, she deserves to be. When I read and watched the interviews behind the making of Anora, I was in awe of how much passion and care she brought to the role. Even the supporting actors and actresses were on a different level, however, I want to specifically mention Yuriy Borisov, who played Igor. Exploring that, even before the film starts, the audience, through the marketing, is led to believe that this film is a love story between Ani and Ivan. The surprising beauty of this film, though, is the bond that her and Igor develop throughout the course of the film. The whole series of events throughout this film focuses on Ani and Ivan, yet, by the end of the film, Ani and Igor’s forced proximity bond is finally given the opportunity to shine through.

Something else I want to gush about is the visuals; this movie is gorgeous. I was lucky enough to catch a 35mm showing at the Brooklyn Alamo Drafthouse with my sister, and our experience was unforgettable. The sheer clarity in the colors was just out of this world. Actually, to expand on that, something about Anora that really did catch my eye was the color. Ani herself is advertised in red. In all the promotional material for the film, she’s got either red nails, red shoes, red outfits, or red accessories. This is really interesting because Ivan, in contrast, is usually seen wearing clothes with blue highlights. This is explored ingeniously by the Vegas-bender scenes. In Vegas, Ani, wearing a red bikini, is in an outdoor pool, with the water and sky taking up most of the screen. I find this important because it serves as a direct mirror to her first meeting with Ivan. At first, the two met on Ani’s “home turf,” so to speak. When Ani first meets Ivan, it’s at HQ, bathed in red light. Compare that to the point in which after agreeing to be exclusive with Ivan for a week, Ani is seen wearing her colors being drowned out by Ivan’s color- blue. Hell, even the scene when Ani first visits Ivan at his house, she is wearing a light blue dress. As she continued going to his house, Ani’s wardrobe got more red. To me, this feels like Baker trying to emphasize not only  the two characters’ differences- how they are two completely different people, but also their individuality, and the strength in that individuality. One of the only times we see the antithesis to this principle is at their marriage ceremony in Vegas, in which both Ani and Ivan wore white; they are both at the same level with the same intention of loving each other. It is also interesting to note that at Ivan’s party to which he invites Ani to, they are bathed in purple lighting. With that, though, as their marriage broke down, so did their colors. By the end of their marriage, Ani is left donning red again with a red scarf(GIVEN TO HER BY IGOR, BY THE WAY) as she has this big crisis of faith in Ivan, while Ivan is left wearing his blue hoodie in broad daylight, as his true colors began to show. 

In that, though, is what I find heartbreaking about Anora. Throughout the first third of the film, Ani and Ivan’s romance is given space to breathe and grow. The movie gives the audience time to believe in their romance, emphasized by the chemistry Mikey Madison and Mark Eydelshteyn had. Ivan’s entire family, though, was hellbent on tearing their marriage apart, telling Ani that she doesn’t know Ivan, and that she shouldn’t trust him. The movie, even around the halfway mark, tries to hammer the point home by having Ivan run away when he was confronted by his family. I remember thinking to myself, Okay, he’s gonna come back, because the movie makes the audience want them to make it all the way. The film did an excellent job of putting us in Ani’s shoes, immersing us into her mindset. Anyways, to go back, I wanted to say that this movie broke my heart because Ivan’s family was right…kind of. They were right in the fact that Ani did not know Ivan- that he was just a bachelor- a bratty kid who wanted to blow his money away. The film broke my heart because Ani believed that her Cinderella dreams were coming true, only for the rug to be pulled underneath her by her own husband.

Anora is a film that I expected to love, honestly. That doesn’t stop the fact that the film was an emotional rollercoaster that left me stunned. What Sean Baker and Samantha Quan achieved with this film is something for the history books, and I hope that Anora receives all the critical praise it can get. My experience venturing to Brooklyn with my sister to watch the film was unforgettable, and I don’t think it’s out of the realm of reason to say this film could potentially be an all-time favorite of mine; hell, it’s already probably my favorite film of the year. Call it recency bias, call me crazy, whatever- the feeling this film gave me is not one a regular film can give me- it’s something more. Anora is more than a regular film, and needs to be experienced by everyone.

[wormstacheangel]

Day five: Portrait

“Thank you for visiting!” Dean waved from the front door of the Novak Manor where he worked as a museum guide and historian. “Come again!”

“Our haunting hour tours start this weekend for Halloween!” He heard his coworker, Charlie, cheerfully remind them as she stepped outside. 

The group all excitedly mumbled to each other about the invite and it made Dean roll his eyes. He went back inside, leaving Charlie to lock up the door. 

“I don’t know why we are advertising that crap.” Dean undid his tie and walked behind the desk to check the emails. “This place isn’t even haunted. It’s just old.”

“Yeah. Yeah. We get it you don’t believe in the spooky supernatural.” Charlie waved her fingers toward Dean before she leaned across the front desk to look at Dean. “But we both know it’s these extra ghost hunters that are keeping this place going. We need cash and they need evidence.” 

“Whatever.” Dean mumbled, before watching the last slot of the night tour fill up. “We’re fully booked.”

“Really?!” Dean turns the screen toward her and she cheers, patting herself in the back. “Good job, Charlie.” She mimics Dean’s voice. “Thanks, boss.”

Dean rolls his eyes with a smile, “Fine. Maybe it was a great idea. Good job, Charles. I’ll get you a treat tomorrow.” 

“Iced and lots of caramel please.”

“Got it.” 

Charlie went home after that, Dean could do the locking up himself. It was second nature to him after all these years. 

He started on the third floor; locking windows, emptying trash cans, and making sure everything was in its place. He was about to go downstairs, turning off the last light in the hallway, when he heard something rumbling in the attic above. 

He turned on the light quickly and cursed. He didn’t want to deal with a damn raccoon right now. Dean wanted to go home and finally eat some dinner while he rewatched Friends for the hundredth time. 

He patted his pocket for his mini flashlight and debated on calling Charlie now or animal control. He decided on neither. He should first make sure it is a raccoon and not something just falling. 

The attic is not for the public, it was used for storage by the family and it’s used for storage by the museum. Nothing special. 

Dean kept cursing as he unlocked the door that hid the narrow stairway. One he would usually send Charlie or even Garth because he was too damn tall for it to be comfortable. But he went, turning on the one light bulb that made the stairway an ugly orange color, and unlocked the door at the top. 

He patted his pockets for his phone, ready to call 911 if the damn raccoon decides to jump him, and slowly opened the door. 

It was dark but the moonlight spilled through the one stained glass window. Making the floor look almost like water. It was beautiful.

He was so dazed that he didn't notice the figure by the window. A figure that made no shadow. 

“Oh!” The voice startled Dean. He looked up to see a familiar man smile towards him. “Hello, Dean. It’s always nice to see you.” The man sighed sadly. “Or anyone.”

Dean said nothing. Just stared in shock while trying to figure out if he could run fast enough downstairs and grab his car keys.

The man looked concerned taking a small step towards Dean before his eyes widened. “Can you…Dean, are you looking at me?”

Dean responds with a stiff nod. Watching as the man smiles, giggling just a little bit, before he takes a longer stride towards Dean. 

“I can’t believe it!” The man yells in excitement and Dean has had enough. 

He turns on his heels and quickly runs down the narrow stairway. Not slowing down when he runs down to the front desk to get his care keys. On his way out the back door, he froze. 

Walking back into the main living room, he came face to face with a portrait of a familiar man. A man that was just talking to him up in the attic. 

Dean didn’t believe in ghosts. He believed that death was just eternal sleep and that’s it. No spirits or any other mambo jumbo. Just forever worm food. 

But he also believed in what he saw with his own eyes. 

He took a deep breath. “This is so fucking stupid.” And forced himself back upstairs. Back up the narrow hallway and into the attic, where the man stood by the window again. Looking out of it like a sad Victorian woman.

Lonely.

It took all the courage Dean could muster to call out, “Castiel?” 

The man turned, smiling but looking apologetic. “I haven't had someone say my name to me in years.” Castiel made a move to walk towards Dean but then stopped. “I, um, I apologize for startling you earlier. I was just so very excited.”

Dean didn’t really hear the apology he was still so shocked. The man was a spitting image of Castiel. How can that be possible? “Are you really him?”

“I am.” Castiel took a careful step towards Dean and held out his hand. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean took the hand, solid in his grip but then felt nothing but cold air a second later. As if he just went right through him. “Hiya, Cas.”

[to-myalphonse]

Sentient Chapter 3: Disdain

Long time no see! Happy New years Everyone.

It took me so long to figure out the ending to this Chapter, but I figured it out.

Sentient is supposed to be a wacky Self Aware! AU type of series, so I try to maintain that sillyness.

New Team comp: Scara. Nahida, Kokomi and Kuki Reminder: Masha is the name I chose for Scara

I was rushing to just get this out, so expect me to re edit or take some things out ^^.

3k+ (tried to make it long, to make up for my abscence and how long it's gonna take for me to think up the next chapter.

Hope you enjoy :3

Disdain- a feeling of contempt for someone or something regarded as unworthy or inferior.

A/N: After this chapter, I will not be tagging you individually for this series.

If you want to be tagged, follow here

First Chapter is Here

“Your eyes are like topaz, pure, precious, and lovely; I like them.”

4.0 came with the release of a blonde magician who has been stealing everyone’s hearts by the name of Lyney.

He works as a magician part-time alongside his assistant and twin sister Lynette. After taking a break for months from playing Genshin, you heard a small commercial of him and his sister advertised on the new region trailer.

“Ladies and gentlemen, she did it. This has been Lyney and Lynette’s magic show!” His cheerful voice reverberated from the speaker on your phone.

You could not help but smile at the way his art looked and how much energy he gave off.

He resembled Joker from the Black Butler Circus arc and Kagamine Len, two of your favorite characters.

The trailer continues as you see the Fatui harbinger of this new region, who also piques your interest. The black and white hair and attitude resembling Cruella Devil.

‘What role would she play as someone who is connected to Lyney and Lynette?’

‘Also,what is the Traveler going to get into this time?’

You ponder, not expecting the answer that would soon come with that.

Not too soon after the trailer dropped, the chapter and the Archon Quest came out. You boot up the game on your PlayStation, only to groan at seeing the update sign. You press X as you wait for it to download.

A ping comes from your phone as you pick it up.

Them: Hey.

You glance at the number for a moment before locking the phone once more. You shake of the negative emotion, as your head excitedly, grabbing one of your anime plushies.

“I’m so excited.” You cheer, grabbing one of the plush toys in your room and dancing around. Her aroma catches your nostrils as you spin with the plushie. You lean into the plush unconsciously.

“Hey, F/N, what are you excited about?” Your smile drops as you put the plushie back down. Grabbing your phone, you check the text again before going through the other contacts.

Mom

Dad

.

.

.

.

Work

.

Friend’s Name

You stop as you get to a name that’s not on the top. “Aisha?” You click the name while going through the text messages. The name clicks as you scroll up further.

It has been a while since you last saw her, huh? You click on a message and send her a small text.

“Hey.” Sent at 17:30

You turn off your phone as your PlayStation dings and loads the game. A picture of Scara and his team from your photos is shown as the advertisement image. Scara glares at Childe, who winks at the camera, gripping the shorter man’s hat. Nahida, Kazuha, and Kuki remain in the background, watching the situation ahead.

The image remains as the promotional photo, unlike last time, as the screen goes black.

The game loads through quickly as the door appears. You click it as the game loads through.

“Welcome back (player name)!” Green text floats on screen as the background changes to Vanessa’s tree.

‘Wait, where were you last time?’

Your answer gets solved as the camera moves up the tree, stopping just directly in front of a certain bard. He stops playing the game theme as the camera zooms in on him.

His teal eyes met yours as a small smile grew on his face.

“Hey (player name)!” He gives you a small wave, greeting you. Small wind chimes sound from the speakers of your television.

The anemo archon was one of your characters that you traveled with, but only rarely. You were too busy trying to build your beloved Masha so that he could one-shot enemies.

“Hello Venny.” A small smile appears on his face.

“Where have you been? We’ve all been worried about you.”

“I was busy with work and home stuff.” He nods in an understanding manner.

“You know that’s interesting, because I heard from a small pigeon that you had free time as of recently.” You froze in place, causing his cheerful expression to grow.

“I was so worried about you. I think Masha was as well.” Your ears perk up upon hearing the blue-haired man’s name.

“Yeah, he sometimes stands by the entrance of Mondstadt city, just waiting.” He lets out a small laugh as he dodges an incoming sandal thrown.

You hear Masha’s flying sound as he comes into the cut scene from the bottom of the screen. The scene looked similar to people in a co-op jumping in the background of a cut scene.

“Shut up, bard.” He becomes part of the cutscene before turning to you.

“Come on, let’s go.” The camera pans towards him as he leads the way.

After teleporting, you both make it to the cliff that overlooks Fontaine.

The city sits almost floating from the distance that you both stood. You could hear the music change as you both grew closer.

“The fishes!’’ You stop along the way looking at the design changes in the new region.

He rolls his eyes at your excitement, continuing forward.

“Hey!” He ignores you as he flies forward, reaching the dock in the area. You could see an albino-haired girl, whom you assume is Lynette, standing near the edge of the dock, watching for something.

You were about to approach when, Paimon dragged you both into a scene. She walks over to the girl and begins her dialogue as you watch it play out.

The camera pans back to where the traveler is supposed to be; instead, it is Masha. The screen blacks out for a momentarily.

“Ah! When did you get there?” She looks back at the Traveler to see Masha in her place. He raises an eyebrow at her and continues the dialogue that the traveler is supposed to have.

“Hey, Paimon is talking to you!” She stomps her foot in the air. The girl glances at her before explaining herself. Paimon is cut off when a blonde-haired man entered the conversation, calling to the girl.

“I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting; are you Lynette’s new friends?” He takes his place next to his sister. He glances at Masha and towards the white-haired pixie floating in front of him.

“Thanks for looking after my sister. Oh, allow me to introduce myself. I am Lyney, and this is my sister Lynette.” He paused mid-dialogue at the sound of screaming. He looked around, concerned, before glancing towards where the imaginary camera would be.

“He’s here!’’

He gives a small smile towards your direction further, causing your cheers to gain traction from the others.

Masha sighs. tipping his hat down, trying to pretend you weren’t traveling with him. He waits for a few minutes before continuing the dialogue as Lyney follows his queue, ignoring you as background noise. Before their conversation continues, the archon comes into view.

Everyone claps as she does a small curtsey, going into her speech.

Masha tunes out her speech, resembling that of the girl and that bird illusion he met a long time ago.

His left eye twitches slightly as she takes a long time to get to the point.

“As the Hydro Archon, I Focalors, welcome you to Fontaine.” You clap at her introduction along with the characters.

Compared to the past three archon quests after Venti, it’s been awhile since an archon and their people have welcomed Traveler.

She’s number one on the welcoming committee of Genshin, compared to Amber’s cut scene from the beginning of the game.

“Now if you have no objections, then in the name of the Hydro Archon, I order your arrest.”

“Wait what?”

The scene changes to the teleportation ping as Masha takes you back to Mondstadt.

“How Irritating.” The speech bubble pops up on screen before disappearing.

You tried teleporting back to Fontaine, but every time you click on the teleporter there, it says access denied. You roll your eyes, pulling up the wish menu for Lyney’s banner. At least you could travel with the cute blonde in the meantime.

After 36 pulls, the star turned goldish-red as Lyney appeared on screen. You stare at it before checking his character, before checking the splash art once more.

Going into characters, you click on his hello line.

“This is no mere illusion, tis I, Lyney! The greatest magician in all Teyvat!”

“Oh, it’s you again. You left abruptly last time, and Lady Furina was so in shock that she left immediately, thinking that you went further into the city.” The message ended after that, as he moves in his voice over menu tipping his hat towards you with a wink.

You change back to Masha, who goes back to his idle position as you click back to him.

It’s time to go farming, it seems.

Atk, Pyro Dmg goblet, Crit Dmg.

It was easier to build Lyney than Masha. Masha’s artifacts took months to farm, whereas Lyney’s required only a few weeks.

His Maurchausse Hunter set was more difficult to get items from, so in the meantime, you give him Masha’s flower and feather. After farming for him for a month, he was at a high enough level to rival Masha as the strongest character.

“Good morning, Lyney.”

You remove the mismatched artifacts from him, fixing his build. 2 pc Shim and 2 pc Wanderer’s Trope, and an off-piece crit DMG circlet.

You let out a small hum, looking over the stats of his shim flower and feather comparing it to Masha’s. Masha’s has more crit DMG, which Lyney needs. Shrugging, you swap Masha’s flower and feather for Lyney’s.

As you exit the main screen, Masha is standing there, glaring up at you.

“Give it back.”

“Huh?”

“Did you think I didn’t notice my power draining?” He pulls up the menu to his character screen. He stops mid-idle to turn to the stats.

“My atk and crit went down.” He points out the lower-crit DMG. Instead of being 60/130, it went down to 100, which is fine, but he doesn’t crit as often at 100.

“I was doing some tasks for the radish when I saw my DMG going down.” You notice a bruise on his arm. It looked fresh, tainting his pale skin.

“Sorry. I was testing Lyney’s dmg.” He sighs, pulling up the menu once more.

“Ever since you got the Knave’s brat, he’s been taking my shit.”

“Give him something else.” He glares off screen like Lyney would pop up around the corner.

You wouldn’t be surprised at this point if he did do that.

The characters have begun to gain more power over the game. Mainly Wanderer, who would take you out of bounds areas.

The paimon menu pops up again, changing to the character menu and Lyney. They switch back to his original set, as the menu exits back to the game.

“Don’t move them again.” He sighs, getting back into his idle pose. His fake smile rises on his face as he stares ahead blankly.

You stared him down for a good minute, waiting for him to say something else. His eyes only glance at you and back ahead, giving the indication for you to move.

“Okay, let’s travel shall we?”

The abyss lights up as the scenery changes from the out-of-bounds room to the nameless crescent island. Moving forward, Masha presses the button as you enter the menu.

“Plunging dmg and normal atk damage increased.”

Scara. Nahida, Kokomi, and Kuki enter the room as the challenge begins. A group of enemies from Nahida’s nation popped up surrounding the group. Some are working quickly to attack you while you are charged. Pulling out Nahida, she uses her E and does her dance as they fade as quickly as they spawned.

Things began to tighten as more enemies were dropped in.

“Everybody hold hands.” Nahida points her fingers towards the enemies as they disappear in a cloud.

Mitachurrls approach as Nahida dodges on time. Sprinting around, things are thrown at her. She pauses, pulling out her chain, when she gets hit head-on.

“Owchie.” She mutters, rubbing her head. She does her little dance as Dendro hits the mitachurrls, burning them quickly. Darkness surrounds the room as she teleports to the waiting room.

“Is it our turn next?”

Lyney asks as he and his team prepare for the next session. The abyss music plays softly in the background, like elevator music.

When off screen, the characters remain in a small lobby in between matches to get themselves together.

“Yes, (player name) is waiting for you.” Lyney and his crew gather their things as they make their way to the exit she came from.

“Is everyone prepared?” Lyney asks before opening the door. “His team checked before nodding.

“Let’s go.”

The door closed as they were teleported into the next match. A small monitor above the lobby played as the match began.

“It looks a bit rough this time.” Masha comments as they watch Bennett flinging around. A mitachurrl is flung back from Lyney’s burst in retaliation.

The battle continues smoothly for everyone on the team except Lyney. Bennett successfully kills his enemies, continuing on to the new ones. Thoma, providing shields for his teammates.

“It’s Showtime!” Lyney transformed himself as he hit the enemy, doing a small 25k at best. They advance through the last few as the stage changes.

Kokomi stands, approaching them with a small medical kit. Being in the spiral abyss prevented her from healing the majority of their injuries.

Smaller ones, however, could be wrapped up or healed with bandages.

Kokomi, Nahida, and Thoma helped the injured teammates while Masha remains seated.

A small menu pops up in front of Lyney as he uses his good hand to navigate through it. He checks his artifacts and finds two pieces missing from his set.

“Masha, did you happen to take my artifacts?” He smiles at the raven-haired man with a feral grin.

“No, I have all my artifacts here.” He displays the slots where the artifacts he is wearing are. Lyney clicks on the flower and feather.

“Last time I checked, our dear (player name) gave those to me.” He clicks on the feather and flower and exchanges them for his own. He has them returned to his missing slots as his DMG goes back up to 230 crit DMG.

“You need to get your own.” He takes those back artifacts as the next floor loads out. Him and his team exit into the domain.

“Break a leg.”

“Ah!” Kokomi Is hit repeatdly by the hilichurrls that spawn in the room. As you got to dodge it, your phone rings distracting you.

You see your Friend’s name pop up on the screen as Kokomi eventually dies. The next character spawns in moving the controller to dodge and aim. You look back to see Masha with a pissed off look dodging the characters and killing them all.

As the next wave pops in, you take control dodging clumsily at the last moment causing him major damage.

“You can’t aim for shit. Give me this!” He takes control again not letting them land a single hit on him.

The floor changes again as Lyney and his team get you to the last floor of the current level. Not distracted by her, the gameplay goes smoothly as the characters crit and do major damage. Lyney jumps out of his hat as the stage changes.

Masha loads in with half damage. You got to control him, when nothing happens. He glances back at you with an annoyed look.

“Don’t even try it.”

He presses okay on the menu as he begins the trial. You watch as he quickly clears through the damage of the current boss for the spiral abyss. He switches control to his other team mates not even allowing you to control.

Your phone dings again with a small hum.

Missed Calls (10) from Friend’s Name. You sigh, getting up and exiting the room.

10-3 Cleared

Next Level?

*’Hey.’*

Friend name is Tying.

*’Hey (*Friend).*’

*’How are you?*’

Read @8:36

Name is Typing.

*’Well I guess.*’

You weren’t exactly sure what she wants, considering last time she broke off your friendship.

*’Do you have time right now?*’

You glance back towards Lyney’s team who were glancing at you. They stood attentive at the domain symbol waiting for you to get off the phone.

*’Yeah, I can drive over to see you.*’

*’Great, meet me at the café near the library.”

You exit the room to change clothes. You turn on soothing music to calm your nerves as you change. You grab an outfit that resembled something she would wear, and tie your hair up in a cute ponytail.

“(Player name)?” You whip your head around looking for the person who called you. Checking every corner, you calm down and continue getting dressed.

“(Player name) can you hear me?” You hear the voice again. You slowly and sees Nahida’s face on the screen of your phone.

“This is new.” She lets out a small laugh as your other characters came into view, in a storage room you assumed.

“It’s a rest room that we stay in, between matches.” She corrects you.

“Lyney and his team left the Abyss. They said that you were unresponsive.” Your heart squeezed as a small smile lifted on your lips.

“That’s sweet of you Nahida. I have to go somewhere for a while.” She pauses listening before nodding.

“Alright then, we’ll return home.” You could hear talking in the background as they move out the door. Whatever device Nahida was holding was moving as she walked.

You saw the room turn into the bright sky of Teyvat. You see the abyssal portal as they exit the domain. Nahida presses on something that you couldn’t see, as the teleportation screen was shown.

Your device turns back to the regular wallpaper as the game exits itself. You decide to head out to see what she wanted to get out the way.

The restaurant was an expensive one, that was a bit out of your budget. The interior seemed like it was a place usually occupied by influencers or other bougie people.

“Reservation for (Name)?” The waitress nods leading you to the table in the back where your Friend is.

“You’re here!” She cheers, waving towards you. You grimace taking a seat across from her. She looks towards the man in the back not even sparing you a glance.

“So what did you want to talk about?” She turns towards you excited.

“Isn’t that man attractive?” You glance at the man with a blank stare.

“I guess?” She looks at you blankly, muttering something rude under her breath.

“So, what have you been up to?” You listen to her as she tells you her current troubles. You frown hearing that things have been going down hill for her. You pat her on the shoulder and promise her that she can vent to you anytime if it helps.

“What about you?” She remains engaged in your conversation. You smile, hoping that things remain positive like this.

“So there was a new episode of my favorite series that came out the other day.” You pause before continuing. You hesitate to bring uo Genshin, in case she would call you out for being weird.

“So there’s a new episode next week if you want to watch.” You look up only to see her focusing on her phone.

“Hey, did you hear me?” She shushes you, focusing on her task. She gets up approaching the man that she kept glancing at. She has a conversation with you that you can barely hear. They both glance at you, before he lets out a small laugh. They continue talking as he exchanges phone numbers with her before walking off again.

She walks back over with a sad look. “He says he doesn’t like you like that.” You look at her confused expecting her to explain. She continues texting, not even glancing at you.

“Can you come hang with me and my friends next week if you have time?”

You leave money on the table exiting the restaurant. Merting her after that fight you had last time was a terrible idea. You make your way to your car, when the phone pings again.

What more does she want? You glare at your phone as you check your text messages

Aisha:*’ Long time no see, how are you?” 🥰’

Previous Chapter

A/N :This is the last time, i'll be tagging you individually @reblogs-of-selfawareaus @thedevioussmirk @endlessmari @iruiji @the-psychotic-blueberry @genshinings @yuumaofc

Not too many of you on this list, but ye.

As always ty for your continued support.

I have a discord if ya wanna chat!

[iambutmortal]

@elucienweekofficial Day 1: Mates

Summary: When Elain signs the divorce papers she’s sure she’s done with Lucien Vanserra. Until they’re offered the chance to recreate their honeymoon as a part of her job. For free. But reliving all those memories with Lucien proves leaving may be more difficult than she thought.

Word Count: 3k

Authors Note: I would like to thank @foreverinelysian for the amazing prompt and also apologize for holding onto it for a year (sorry @sjmkinkmeme). Also, yes, I did steal the opening scene from Asylum of the Daleks but in my defense that was my 12 year old sexual awakening so allowances must be made.

Read on Ao3

It took everything Elain had not to blow the strand of hair out of her mouth. The fan was pointed directly at her face, whipping her hair back dramatically. Or at least she hooped it looked dramatic, and not like she’d been caught by a cyclone. Because that would not make the magazine editors, or her manager, happy.

And with her luck would probably result in her ending up as a Facebook meme. She could picture the caption me trying to model but the world says no. The grandmothers of the world would be in stitches.

But the photographer seemed happy, kept yelling how the shot was perfect and stunning and you’re amazing darling so Elain was pretty sure it was dramatically.

“Break,” shouted the creative director, already leaning over the photographer’s camera to peer at the camera screen.

Elain resisted the urge to massage her cheeks, aching from the sultry, but not too sultry, smile she’d been forcing herself to hold for the better part of  an hour. She was sure there were thousands of pictures at this point, all with her at a slightly different angle, chin up a fraction, down an inch, to the left a hair, all in service of getting one perfect picture the perfume makeup company could slap up on billboards to advertise their new blush.

She felt bad for anyone who actually fell for it, since half the pan had been spread across her face in an effort to make some color appear, and whatever the final result was would still need digital enhancement. Even the makeup artist hadn’t been able to control her laughter at the attempt, shaking her head. “Guess I won’t be adding this to my kit.”

But a job was a job, and Elain needed the work to pay the bills. Bills that were suddenly a lot higher.

No, Elan scolded herself. She wasn’t allowed to think about it at work. That was the rule she’d had for herself two months ago when she’d had to lock herself in the bathroom to cry during a shoot. Despite her attempts to blot the smeared mascara away with toilet paper, the make up artist had been livid. Elain had only been spared by the fact that the photographer had liked it. Thought it was edgy and cool for whatever bland perfume they were selling to middle age house wives.

“Ma’am,” said one of the PAs on set, appearing at her elbow. PAs had a nasty habit of doing that, sliding behind her before she could notice, and nearly scaring her half to death.

“Yes,” Elain asked, pasting a pleasant smile on her face. Her cheeks barked in protest. But she was not going to be known as the model who was hard to work with.

“Your husband is here.”

In spite of herself, Elain couldn’t hide her glare. “I don’t have a husband.”

The PA glanced down at his clipboard, searching for the note he’d scribbled there. “It says here—”

“It’s fine,” Elain said, slipping past him and towards the room they’d turned into a makeshift dressing space. The company had rented an old house for the natural lighting and Victorian chandeliers, and they’d used the front parlor as a space to dump makeup and accessories. “I’ll go talk to him.”

She brushed past the curtain and there he was.

Lucien Vanserra. Her husband, at least on paper.

He looked good, and Elain hated herself for noticing. His red hair was shorter, only down to his shoulders, and slicked back. He’d made himself at home in one of the upholstered chairs scattered around the room, leaning back, one leg crossed over the other at the knee. It showed off the muscled thighs Elain was well acquainted with, hidden beneath dark was jeans. 

“You need to sign these,” Lucien announced, holding up a stack of papers.

Elain snatched them out of his hand.

The words at the top Decree of Divorce stood out in bolded font.

She turned around, grabbing the pen someone had left lying off the wardrobe-turned-desk. She scanned the text briefing, before jotting her signature down on each of the dotted lines.

“Just like that?” she asked, handing them back.

Lucien unfurled himself from the seat, all lanky limbs chorded with muscles, and took them back from her. 

“Just like that.”

He tucked them into the breast pocket of the black leather jacket he was wearing. Since when has he had that?

“Do you need a folder?” Elain asked, eyeing his chest suspiciously. “I doubt the judge wants wrinkled papers.”

Lucien snorted. “They’re fine. I know what I’m doing.”

“Of course you do,” Elain muttered. “Little Mr. Perfect.”

“What was that?” Lucien asked, taking a step closer to her.

“Nothing,” said Elain, smiling up to him with saccharine sweetness. “I just want to make sure after this I don’t have to see you again.”

“Don’t worry, beautiful, after this you never will again.”

Elain remembered a time when Lucien calling her beautiful would have her blushing fiercely, would no doubt result in him getting laid that night. Now it came out dripping with derision.

Elain rolled her eyes, pointing towards the curtain. “There’s the exit.”

“Nice knowing you,” Lucien said, striding toward the curtain and dipping under it.

Elain bit her lip as she watched his retreating back side. She ought to say something nicer, she thought. Before he was gone from her life forever, surely.

“Wait,” she called out after a long moment. But Lucien was already gone.

A part of Elain sighed in relief. What was she going to do if he stayed, explain why he came back from work one day to all his stuff packed in bags on the porch?

She huffed a sigh, blowing one of the strands of hair that had fallen into her face out of her eyes.

It was fine. She was going to finish her job and then go home and eat an entire carton of Halo Top. Maybe two depending on how sad the Hallmark movie on that night made her feel. Nowhere near as good as the real thing, but quantity over quality.

Elain glanced in the mirror behind her, to check that none of her makeup had smudged and that her eyes were crystal clear, not glassy, before following her soon to be ex-husband out.

Only to find him standing in the entryway with her sister.

“Oh perfect, I was about to send Lucien in to find you,” Nesta said, looking up from the email she was furiously typing on her phone.

“Do you have another job?” Elain asked. Nesta, on top of being her overprotective sister, was also Elain’s modeling agent. And a very good one. One wall of Nesta’s office was dedicated to all the magazine covers her models had gotten, right behind the Birkin bag she’d gotten as a gift from Anna Wintor on its shelf of glory.

“One day I’ll have a wall of Vogue,” had always been Nesta’s promise to herself and, at twenty nine, she was already well on her way there.

“Only the best for you,” Nesta said, sliding her phone into the pocket of her cleanly pressed slacks and brushing a kiss across Elain’s cheek. “And Lucien gets to join you on this one.”

“Oh,” Elain said, any excitement she had rapidly deflating.

Because she hadn’t actually told her sister she was getting divorced. It made her the worst kind of coward, something she told herself at every family dinner when she and Lucien sat next to each other and pretended things were going well, but she couldn’t bear to do it. Couldn’t stand to see the crestfallen looks on Feyre and Nesta’s face, the confused horror on her father’s. She was supposed to be the one who succeeded, married the nice boy from down the road and had a nice family.

Never mind that down the road was in a multi-million dollar mansion near Beverly Hills.

And after Elain told her family, she’d have to face the paparazzi. She was moderately well known, enough to get an occasional “who wore it best” shoutout in People (she always won), and Lucien was the son of Hollywood's most beloved silver fox.

A silver fox who’d run away with the wife of the state governor three months ago and was desperately trying to rehabilitate his image in the eyes of the press before his next movie. The media was out for blood, and Helion’s beloved son divorcing his pretty little wife wasn’t what anyone needed right now.

So Elain and Lucien had an unspoken mutual agreement not to tell anyone. When they showed up to Feyre and Rhys’ Sunday night dinners, whoever got there first sat in their car until the other arrived and they could keep up the appearance of arriving together. They sat next to each other and made a good show of acting like they didn’t hate each other’s guts. And then, when it was over, they left without another word and Elain pretended it didn’t feel like her heart was being stabbed over and over.

“You know the company you and Lucien used to book your honeymoon?” Nesta asked, too focused on whatever gig she had planned to notice Elain’s dismay. “They’ve been asked to plan the Greek princess’ honeymoon, which means Cosmopolitan wants to run a profile. And since the Royal wedding hasn’t happened yet, they wanted to feature another famous couple they worked with, and that’s you and Lucien.”

Elain’s eyes darted over to Lucien to see his eyebrows were high enough to touch his hairline.

“You want me to take pictures for a magazine spread?” Lucien asked. “I do have work to do. Not to mention,” Lucien gestured at the left side of his face, and the scars that raked down it, standing in stark contrast to his golden brown skin. A reminder of the car crash he’d been in in high school. “This.”

Elain had to bite her tongue to keep from saying something. She’d always thought the scars only served to make Lucien look more handsome, gave him a slightly dangerous air that lured her in, something that she reminded him of frequently, but her comments always seemed to fall on deaf ears. But it wasn’t her place, not now.

Nesta gave Lucien a scathing look. “The shoot is planned for two weeks after the California state election, so I’m sure you’ll have some time to take a week long, all expense paid vacation to the Bahamas.”

“We honeymooned in the Dominican Republic,” Elain interrupted.

Nesta whipped out her phone and tapped on it rapidly for a few seconds. “Yes, there.”

Elain barely contained her eye roll. She was sure Nesta could point out both countries on a map, and rattle off at least two or three facts about their geopolitical status, but asking her to remember where Elain went for her honeymoon was a step too far for her when she was focused on work.

“And the magazine is well aware of what your face looks like. It’s been enough places for everyone to know,” Nesta finished with finality.

Elain scowled. “We can’t just uproot our lives. We have things to do, I  have things to do.” Namely buying the ugliest pink couch she could find to put in Lucien’s old office as one last fuck you.

“All expenses paid?” Lucien asked, speaking over her.

Nesta smiled dangerously. “Flight included.”

Lucien crossed his arms. The leather jacket pulled up at the motion, the cuffs tight around muscled forearms. “And all we have to do is take some magazine photos.”

“And do an interview,” Nesta added.

Somehow, Lucien managed to arch one brow even higher. “And they want me, son of a currently disgraced movie star.”

“And potential senatorial candidate,” Nesta added.

“Rumors,” Elain interrupted. “All just rumors.”

“Which are good in this line of work,” was Nesta’s counter.

“I’m in,” Lucien said.

“We’ll think about it,” Elain corrected, glaring over at Lucien. He smirked at her in challenge.

Nesta sighed, glancing between the two of them, at last picking up the tension. “I need an answer by tomorrow, they want to book flights.”

Elain squirmed under her sister’s stare. This was exactly what she didn’t want, any cracks showing in her picture perfect life before she was ready to sit everyone down with a carefully rehearsed speech. 

“Elain?” Nesta asked.

In response, she leaned slightly towards Lucien, who obligingly pulled up his sleeve to show her his watch, a thick silver one she’d given him for his last birthday. At least he hadn’t forgotten that trick, since Elain never had a watch or phone on her at work. “My ten minutes are up,” Elain said, glancing at the time. “Gotta run.”

“I need an answer,” Nesta called as Elain slid backwards, towards where the photographer and director were still leaning over the camera, arguing back and forth over some detail or other.

“I’ll text you,” Elain promised. She almost felt bad leaving Lucien with Nesta. Almost, but not quite.

-

“I don’t know what to do,” Elain said on the phone later that night. “It would be a whole spread, at least ten pages, and a cover story.”

“Which would be perfect for your career,” Vassa finished for her.

“But then I would have to—”

“Spend a week with Lucien.”

Elain sighed. Vassa and Jurian were the only two people outside of their lawyers who knew Elain and Lucien were separating. It was unavoidable, since Lucien was living in their guest room for the time being. Looking for his own place would raise too many questions, and staying in a hotel for weeks would be an invitation for bored paparazzi.

“What would you do,” Elain asked, taking a bite of her ice cream. She’d splurged on Haagen Dazs, rationalizing that the encounter with Nesta had more than justified it.

“I’m not the one getting an all expense paid vacation.”

“With your ex-husband.”

“Technically he’s still your husband until Monday,” Vassa laughed. Because the court closed early on Friday and Nesta’s appearance had taken up too much time for Lucien to drive over to the court house.

“Not helping,” Elain growled. “And why would Lucien even agree? He loves to poke at Nesta’s buttons.”

“It would be good for him too,” Vassa said. “Future state Senator gets a fluff magazine article about him and his beautiful wife.”

“It’s a rumor,” Elain insisted. “He hasn’t even nominated himself. And anyway, it’s going to look a lot worse when he has to come out and say we’re not together anymore.”

“First of all, you know it’s more than a rumor. No political analyst gets called into a meeting with the head of the DNC for nothing, and second just pretend you’re still married, you’ve already been doing it for six months.”

Elain suppressed her groan. Vassa made it clear at every possible opportunity how much she disapproved of Elain’s current course of action. A “Congrats of Getting Divorced, Coward” Edible Arrangement had shown up on her door the day she moved to start the paperwork, and it had only escalated from there.

Although Elain figured she should be glad Vassa would still talk to her instead of taking Lucien’s side completely. She was distressingly short on friends who weren’t her sisters and it would be so easy for Vassa to blame her when Elain still refused to explain what exactly had caused her to kick Lucien out. But Vassa had just sighed, crawled into the mountain of blankets Elain had made for herself, and said she knew Elain would talk to her when she was ready.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

Elain had given an emphatic no and that had been that.

“Ugh,” Elain sighed, flopping back on the couch. “I don’t know.”

“You’ve said that about twelve times already,” Vassa sighed. “We’ve been on this call for two hours.”

“Then maybe you’re not being helpful enough.”

“I’m not helpful? Fine then,” Elain heard a rustling on the other side of the phone as Vassa started thumbing through her room. 

“Oh you don’t need to…” Elain protested weakly.

But the sounds of video game weapons were already buzzing in her ear.

“Lucien,” Vassa asked, her voice muffled as she pulled the phone away and put it on speaker. “What are your thoughts on Nesta’s offer?”

There was a long, pregnant pause on the other side of the line.

“I’m in if Elain is.”

“Thank you,” Vassa chirped.

Elain waited until there was once again silence on the other side of the line to speak. “Traitor.”

“I accept you’re welcome, I’m forever in your debts, I could never repay you.”

“I hate you,” Elain snapped. “I hope your favorite tree burns down in the next wildfire.”

“Low blow,” Vassa protested. It was, based on how much time and energy Vassa spent caring for that orange tree.

“I’m hanging up,” Elain said.

“Text your sister.”

“See you at spin tomorrow.”

“Love you bitch,” was Vassa’s sign off, and then the line went dead.

Vassa was too smart for her own good, Elain thought. Because if Lucien was in, so was she. There was no way she was going to look like the coward in front of Lucien, like she wasn’t willing to do something he will.

So she closed the phone app and pulled up her text messages.

Nesta’s was at the top, several unopened messages demanding an answer waiting.

We’re in.

[onboardsorasora]

I don't normally post this late but I just finished writing this and Idk. I've had this idea banging around in my head and I wanted to write some Dewis. I hope it's good, if not, we can pretend it didn't happen 🫣🫣

Dewis Sleepwalking (potential 👀?) Au

Daniel bolted up in bed, he looked around quickly at the unfamiliar room. His chest heaved as he left the vestiges of the dream behind, it felt… too real. They always do when this happened. It was lucid dreaming on steroids and he wasn't always in control of what he did.

“It's cool, you're in my room Danny.” 

Daniel's eyes swung to the left side of the bed, his brain felt a little like molasses. Also normal. He looked at Lewis, confused but also apprehensive.

“Fuck, sorry mate.” Daniel rubbed his eyes and clambered out of the bed. Away from Lewis who sat up against the headboard scrolling through his phone. “You're very calm about this.”

“Max texted me.” Lewis locked his phone screen and grinned at his friend who looked spooked, for lack of a better word.

Daniel sighed and dragged his hand down his face. Of course, Max would have texted Lewis to warn him. How embarrassing.

“Mate, I'm so sorry.” Daniel groaned. This was not exactly how he hoped they would start their holiday. At least it didn't seem like Seb was awake yet.

“Danny it's fine.” Lewis insisted, he patted the empty side of the bed that Daniel had vacated, it was still warm.

Daniel was just about hoping the floor would swallow him whole. It was bad enough that he couldn't control it, but for Lewis to be one to witness it. At least with Seb, he knew he'd get a chuckle, a little teasing for a while. Before Seb would sit him down and pump him for information. 

He had no idea how Lewis would react, he was very particular about his space and who was in it. Daniel should know, he'd been trying to get one step closer for a little while now.

“So you sleepwalk.” Lewis said it with a shrug and a small smile. “Actually, I'm kinda glad Max texted me, cause seeing you standing in my doorway– asleep– could have been a little more terrifying, y'know?”

“Nah yeah, figure I looked like an axe murderer.” Daniel grinned a self deprecating slash of his teeth and mimicked stabbing the air with a knife. Daniel licked his teeth, stretching his lips over the expanse of them like he used to when he had braces.

They fell silent for a beat, Lewis watching Daniel with his keen brown eyes and Daniel looking anywhere but back at him. He needed to leave, he'd embarrassed himself enough for the day he felt.

“I'm just gonna…go.” Daniel pointed behind himself to the door. He scraped his teeth against the skin under his lip, feeling the grit of his stubble against the enamel.

“No, talk to me.” Lewis reached across the duvet, the space Daniel vacated was colder now, all his body heat already neutralized by the air conditioning.

“What do you want me to say?” Daniel groaned. It was always awkward around new people. It wasn't something he advertised, he had enough known issues with sleeping that he wasn't exactly trying to let everyone know that he also couldn't count on himself to stay in bed while he was at it. Max knew because, well that was unavoidable when you shared as many hotel rooms as they had, they created a system about it 

And now Lewis knew. But not because Daniel confided, but because sleep Danny decided  to walk down the hallway to apparently have a  cuddle with Lewis.

At least he had the decency to pull on the pyjama pants he had packed because he did not go to sleep in this.

“Wait– I came in here in these right? You didn't like see me bare assed and saved my modesty right?” Daniel asked suddenly with wide concerned eyes. 

Lewis blinked owlishly at him before dissolving into giggles. He took a moment or two to compose himself. Daniel laughed as well, because what else could he do, it truly was a ridiculous situation.

“Nah, you came here in that.” Lewis snorted, “so you're saying if I want a show I should come into your room? Noted.” He teased and Daniel laughed harder, a blush dusting his cheeks.

Tired of the distance, Lewis reached across the bed and grabbed Daniel's flailing arm and pulled him back onto the soft mattress. Daniel fell onto his side with a soft oof, he tried shifting backwards– to at least sit up– but Lewis' grip was like a cuff on his forearm. 

Daniel felt like his flesh was warm in that location only, the rest of him cold for Lewis' touch as well. He couldn't help but notice where their tattoos touched; grateful over love.

“Daniel. Talk to me, please.” Lewis asked quietly. Chocolate met honey and Daniel sighed, ready to give in. He gazed up at Lewis through his lashes, eyes roving over his smooth skin, the moles and freckles on his cheeks and his perfect lips.

“I sleepwalk, have for years. Being in a new place tends to trigger it, so I normally like bring shit from home that's familiar so I don't go off the rails in every hotel room. We got in too late last night so I just crashed.”

Lewis swiped his thumb soothingly along Daniel's skin as he listened. brushing the hairs on the back of his arm flat, just missing the tip of the rose.

“Why did you come here?” Lewis asked softly.

“I dunno Lew.” Daniel groaned and threw his other arm over his eyes so it didn't feel like he was baring his soul. So Lewis wouldn't see his soul was already bared. Why else would he come here unconsciously?

They were quiet again as Lewis waited patiently, he didn't stop his stroking.

Daniel sighed gustily, realizing he wasn't going anywhere until he gave Lewis what he wanted.

“Because I was looking for comfort and I– I knew you were here.” Daniel clenched his jaw and his fist to keep from doing something silly like get defensive and lash out in his embarrassment. This wasn't Lewis’ problem, it was his.

“So why didn't you go to Seb?” Lewis sounded confused, Daniel could imagine the furrow in his perfect brow, one braid coming loose from his bun to hang in his face.

Well that was the question of the hour, wasn't it? The answer wasn't one Daniel wanted to give, he wanted to keep it hoarded in his chest, behind his ribs. Safe and unknown to the world, especially Lewis.

Lewis' other hand grabbed Daniel's arm that kept him blinded, he tugged and before he knew it, Daniel was arrested by warm brown eyes leaning over him. God Lewis was beautiful.

Lewis' eyes crinkled and Daniel felt cold with the knowledge that he'd most likely used his outside voice. Lovely.

Lewis opened his mouth to say something when the door opened after two perfunctory knocks. They both froze and Seb walked in, two cups of coffee in his hands, hair a nest of bedraggled curls.

“Lew have you seen– oh. Morning.” His accent was thicker in the mornings. Daniel sprung off of the bed and dragged a hand through his own curls.

“Morning Seb. I'm.. Just gonna go.” Daniel didn't look at any of them specifically, before doing an awkward finger snap and gun gesture and leaving quickly. They could hear his door close soundly at the end of the hallway.

“What did I miss?” Seb’s wide eyes flickered between Lewis– who now lay across the bed, his head pressed where Daniel's had been– and the empty hallway. Lewis groaned.

Part 2

[akaridream]

after dark pt. 6: date (hawks x reader)

tags: hawks x reader

cw: minors DNI: explicit sexual material, cursing, afab reader

taglist: @inkthgoat​ @pnsduck @animedreamworlds​ @melxdig​ @mizvaun @mysideeffectsofyou​ @thecityofspareparts @soleilandpeaches​ @theycallme-becky​​ @escapingjune @erissco​​ @chrisrue15​​ @i-simp-to-much​

masterlist

Sleep was fitful at best. Your mattress was too hot, too lumpy, too lonely to give you rest. Thoughts were cyclic, obsessive like you were reading the same page of a book over and over again.

Have they been following him? Have they seen him come and go from my office? If he knows my address, surely they could find it too. But there are other businesses in that suite. Maybe they don’t know it’s me. But if they saw a private investigator in the list of businesses they would probably realize… But he said he would protect me. He promised. And I trust him. But still…

You stroked one of your shed feathers, imagining it was Hawks’. You drew it gently across your cheek, down your nose, over your lips, wishing he could feel you aching for his comfort. His steady hands had soothed your anxious thoughts in the moment, but you couldn’t stop imagining him laying next to you, easing the thoughts away once more.

You were tempted to call him. You ached to hear his voice, gravelly with sleep, telling you he would protect you. Just hearing him breathe on the other side of the phone would be enough to let your mind drift into sleep. But you knew he had to work, early as usual. You couldn’t interrupt his much needed rest.

And so you tossed, flipped, and turned in bed until you couldn’t stand it anymore. You grabbed your phone and gave into a temptation you had been trying to avoid since you met Hawks: looking up his modeling work. He had mentioned doing a few campaigns with designer brands, but you were too afraid of the burning embarrassment you would feel if he found out you looked them up. As you laid sleepless and pining, that fear dissipated. You just needed him, any part of him you could get.

And damn, had you been missing out.

The first photo you found had him wearing a plain white T-shirt, wrists stacked with bracelets and the signature watch he was advertising. His hand covered his mouth and he looked to the side, eyes drowsy. The sleeves of the shirt hugged his biceps and the metal around his forearms complimented his large, strong hands. You quickly downloaded the photo and created a locked folder on your phone for its safe keeping.

Next was an ad for jeans that didn’t even show his face, but it had you salivating all the same. Black and white, he stood shirtless with his back to the camera, hand grabbing opposite wrist and holding it above his head. His spread wings showed off every fine muscle of his back leading to his narrow hips where the jeans sat snugly around his perfect ass. The way the waistband of his boxers showed made you clench your thighs together just imagining what was underneath. You thought of making the photo your lock screen, but would never live it down if Hawks ever noticed it. Into your secret folder it went.

The haircare campaign was your favorite. The ad featured him close up, one hand mussed through his windswept hair, head tilted, lips slightly parted and perfectly kissable. His stunning golden eyes were the star of the show. Perhaps it was your avian kinship shining through, but you found the black triangles accentuating his eyes so endearing and unique. He wore a sultry, smoldering expression, jumping out of the photo and surging through you like electricity. You smiled and ran your thumb over your lips, staring at his in the picture. You saved it as his contact photo, feeling safe that he would never see your screen if he was calling you.

I bet he’s an amazing kisser. Hell, I bet he’s good at everything… It’s already 4:47. Is he getting ready for work yet? Even if he isn’t, he’ll just see a text whenever he gets up, right? I just need to make contact with him… You convinced yourself as arousal coursed through you. Just seeing his face had made the anxious thoughts clear away like sun burning the morning fog, only to be replaced with an aching, pressing need between your legs.

You: Can’t sleep. Just wanted to wish you a good day :)

You started to toy with the waist of your sleep shorts, entertaining more thoughts of him and what he would be good at. You palmed yourself over your panties, thinking of his scent and the sound of his voice. Your phone buzzed.

Hawks: aww ur so sweet angel! sorry u cant sleep though :( just try to calm ur mind and dont worry about workin today. I’ll do all the research we need so u can take the day off and relax

You: I can’t do that, we have a lot of work to get done still

Hawks: its nothing that cant wait til monday, so just take it easy, k? Just focus on getting ready for our date tonight ;)

You: You’re sure you don’t need me to do anything today? And how long do you think it takes for me to get showered and dressed?

Hawks: I’m sure. Just have the day to urself! And idk how long that shit takes but I have to imagine it takes time to look as gorgeous as you always do

A delicious flutter in your chest made you smile without thinking. You dipped a finger into your panties and sighed as it made contact with your pussy, slick with thoughts of the hero on the other end of your texts.

You: stfu you’re making me blush

Hawks: thats the point doll ;) cant wait to see u tonight, no work to get in our way

You: Oh so I’m your doll now, am I?

Hawks: u can be whatever u want. angel, doll, princess, mine, whatever u want

You whined as you pleasured yourself, excitement building each time a new text came through. You imagined him moaning each of the pet names in your ear, making you bite your lip and press your heels to the bed.

You: I guess we’ll see just how well things go tonight then bird boy <3

Hawks: cant wait :) I might be busy but I’ll see ur texts thru the day if u get bored or if u miss me too much

You moaned his name softly as you teased your clit. The arousal was starting to take over your brain and make you send texts far more telling than you realized.

You: Already miss you. Wish you were here right now

On the other end, Hawks raised his eyebrows and smirked. Though he assumed you were being innocent, his mind began to wander to thoughts of you in bed, speaking those words through heavy eyelids. He imagined you laying on your side, wearing one of his T-shirts without a bra, your pert nipples visible under the thin fabric. Your barely-there shorts would show the soft skin of your legs and the curve of your hip would make the shirt fall away, exposing a sliver of your tummy. His morning wood ached at the vision.

Hawks: u feeling anxious? Anything I can do to help?

You: can I hear your voice

Even as your phone started to buzz, you couldn’t draw your fingers away from your pussy. You would just be discrete.

“Hi,” you breathed into the phone.

“Hey angel,” Hawks said, voice grumbly with sleep, even sexier than you anticipated. You nearly whined at the sound as you continued to massage your clit.

“Hope I didn’t wake you.”

“My alarm was set for five, but I was already sort of awake. Sorry you haven’t been able to sleep.”

“It’s okay,” you said.

“Just thinking about the case and everything?”

“Yeah, for the most part. Thinking about you, too,” you admitted, dipping a finger inside yourself.

“Yeah? What about me?” His voice was soft and sensual. You bit your lip and closed your eyes, pretending you could feel his breath on your neck.

“Just how sweet you were to me. And that you always smell nice,” you added with a giggle.

He chuckled. “Well you can thank the fragrance company that sponsors my agency, I always wear their stuff.”

“It’s nice. Spicy and manly.”

“Glad you like it, doll. I’ll be sure to wear it for you tonight.”

You hummed, liking the way the new nickname sounded falling from his lips.

 “Can’t wait.” You sighed and smiled. “You make me feel safe. Even just hearing you, I think I’ll be able to get some sleep now.”

“Glad I could help out. If you need anything just let me know and I’ll text back when I can, okay?”

The peak of pleasure was coming close and you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold back. “Okay Hawks. See you tonight then.”

“It can’t come soon enough, trust me. Bye angel.”

“Bye.”

Only a moment more of touching yourself sent you breathing Hawks’ name in the darkness of your bedroom. You came tumbling over the summit, sweet pleasure pulsing at the thought of him. You sighed and draped your arm over your eyes, cheeks burning. Oh, if he only knew what you had been doing to the sound of his voice. With it came a couple hours of peaceful sleep.

A steady rain fell as you hurried towards the alley with the blue awnings, just as Hawks had directed you. Night had already fallen and the streets were empty with only a few cars splashing by. Your watched your black ankle boots as they passed over the wet concrete and pulled your hood down over your forehead, annoyed that you had forgotten your umbrella in your nervousness. At least you had modified your leather jacket to include part of an old hoodie from college when cutting the slits for your wings. Wearing your favorite custom piece boosted your confidence as your strode towards the awning ahead.

Your heart rate quickened as you turned down the narrow alley, not even wide enough for a car to fit down. Despite being so closed in, there were charming lanterns lighting the way under the colorful awnings. All the businesses had brought in their sandwich board signs for the evening, except one. Murakami. That’s the place. There’s no reason to be all jittery, we’ve been together all week. Just be yourself. Just be honest. Just say what’s on your mind and follow your instincts. That’s all you’ve ever done, you told yourself, attempting to calm your nerves. But how can I look in those eyes when I was getting off to his voice just this morning? God, I should not have done that. I’m such an embarrassment…

You fluffed and shook the rain from your wings as you stood in front of the shoji screen door, using your phone screen as a mirror one last time. Pulling your hood down, you pressed your eyelashes upward with your finger and adjusted your shirt, making sure the black v-neck wasn’t too immodest, yet still alluring. With a cleansing breath, you knocked.

It only took a moment for Hawks to slide open the door, face lighting up in a stunning grin.

“Hey, glad you found the place!”

He wore a green military jacket with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and black skinny jeans, just like yours. Unobstructed by his flight goggles, his golden eyes looked more radiant than ever. You admired his white T-shirt and black stud earrings, noticing the silver wing necklace from his watch advertisement.

“You gave me good directions,” you said as he took your hand and invited you inside. “I like the casual look on you, by the way.”

He shrugged shyly. “Aw, thanks angel! You look gorgeous as always,” he said, pulling you in the door and sliding it shut behind you. “Love the jacket. Another one of your creations?”

You nodded and looked around. The cozy space was lined with traditional wood panels and soft lighting. The restaurant was only big enough for two chabudai tables and a few single-person booths along the wall. It was a hidden gem-type place; unassuming and off the beaten path, but charming, and with food good enough to need no advertising. Or at least that’s what Hawks had told you.

“What an adorable place,” you said, sliding your jacket off as Hawks guided you over to a booth. He grabbed a neighboring chair and slid it over to you.

“It’s one of my favorites. They usually have a long wait, but Murakami is the great uncle of one of my sidekicks, so I get perks like this! It’s just him back there and I told him the deal, so no worries about anyone seeing us.”

“Except if they followed us,” you said, looking over your shoulder towards the door.

“No need to worry about that either. I have a few feathers acting as sentries. You can relax,” he said with a warm smile.

You draped your jacket over the back of your chair and sat, the booth crowded by both your chairs so much that your knees bumped together. Neither of you moved out of the way and you rested your leg against his.

“Well, thanks for making me feel safe, Hawks,” you said, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind your burning ear.

“Always.”

The two of you lingered for a moment, wordless yet comfortable. Hawks’ phone began to buzz, making him roll his eyes.

“And I’m turning that off for the rest of the night!” he said as he powered down his phone and slid it into his back pocket. “I am officially off duty!”

“No one’s gonna send out a missing pet birdie bulletin?” you joked.

He rested his elbow on the table and leaned his cheek into his hand. “Even if they did, I won’t see it til tomorrow. You get all my attention tonight.”

You smiled. “What a lucky lady I am. Just hope I can actually hold your attention.”

He tilted his head, confused. “What do you mean? Of course you can!”

You rubbed your neck. “Well, that’s when we have work to focus on. I’m actually kind of boring.”

Hawks made a face and waved his hand dismissively. “Pfft, what the heck makes you think that?”

You sucked on your lips and shrugged. “The fact that you’re the first guy to ask me on a date.”

He examined you incredulously. “I find that hard to believe. But a lotta guys are just too intimidated to approach beautiful women, you know?”

You blushed. “Actually, I was a little intimidated by you at first, being so assertive and all. But you’re really just a big softie.”

It was Hawks’ turn to blush. His coy demeanor made your heart clench. “I’m a fighter and a lover I guess. I ain’t that soft, though.” The look in his eye turned from sweet to spicy as he glanced at your lips, then smirked. A warm flush flooded your chest and you tightened your thigh muscles instinctively.

Keep it together, you thought. As delicious as his lips look, we are here for noodles! “So, what’s good here?” you asked.

As Hawks described his favorite dishes, you smiled and watched him. His bright eyes and sprightly personality warmed you, making conversation flow like a gentle river. No awkward pauses, no dead air. He was so open and unguarded that it was impossible not to be enraptured in his charm.

Once your dinners arrived on the tiny conveyor belt from the kitchen, Hawks’ feathers perked up and his eyes grew wide. He took an energized whiff of his ramen and his wings bristled with excitement, making you chuckle.

“Can I ask you something?” you ventured, blowing on your steaming tonkotsu.

“Sure, anything!” he said, taking a huge bite. His eyes rolled back and he collapsed a bit, humming his pleasure at the noodles.

“What are you wings like? You can basically see with them, right?” you asked with a slurp.

He shrugged. “Well, I can’t see, but I can sense things well enough to be able to picture things in my head. Does that make sense?”

You nodded. “Hm, so maybe more like echolocation?”

“Yeah, something like that. They’re super sensitive. I pick up on vibrations, even super subtle ones. I can read someone’s heart and respiration rate, so sometimes I can tell when people are lying.”

“Ah, right! That’s how you knew the PSC guy was lying, right?”

“Yep, exactly.”

You chuckled. “Damn. That’s so crazy. And every single one of them is that sensitive?”

Hawks nodded. “Yep. And they’re super soft too, here.” He plucked a petite crimson feather and handed it to you. You gently stroked it over the back of your hand, then between your fingers.

“Oh wow, they really are! I figured they were sharp, almost like little knives I guess.”

The fibers of the feather stiffened. “I can make them sharper when I’m fighting. Pretty helpful with the big ones.”

“And it’s all in your head? Like, telekinetic?”

“More or less, yeah.”

You poked the feather on your fingertip, impressed. “Wow. The amount of control you have over them is amazing! Your quirk really is incredible.”

He shrugged and slurped his noodles loudly. “I’m lucky. But there are a lot of amazing quirks out there. Yours included, you know.”

“Mine’s alright. Does it ever get overwhelming for you to hear and feel so much all the time? Because I get overloaded all the time.” You continued toying with his feather, stroking the supple fibers over your palm.

Hawks eyed your hands as they played with his feather. “Not really, but sometimes I feel like I have ADD or something. My mind bounces from one thing to the next all the time, but I’ve spent most of my life working on this quirk, so I can tune in and out at will fairly easily.”

You nodded and took another bite of noodles. “I see. Wish I could tune out better sometimes. I’m so sensitive, especially at nighttime. I can’t sleep without earplugs, a sleep mask, and a fan. And just the right weight of blanket.”

Hawks laughed. “Geez, so high maintenance!” he joked.

“I know, I know. I’m always so difficult,” you mused as you mindlessly drew his feather over your cheek. His eyes locked onto yours. You blinked and began to blush, turning the feather back over to him. “Sorry, am I distracting you?”

“No, you’re fine,” he said with a warm smile. “Your skin is really soft.”

A voice called from the back of the shop out to Hawks. He excused himself and you took a sip of your flavorful broth. You checked the time on your phone, startled to see how late it was already. Had you really been talking for that long?

Hawks returned, key in hand. “Sorry about that. Murakami just wants us to lock up for him when we leave. Said we can stay as long as we want, so no rush.” He sat back down, knee resting against yours again. You extended your leg out between his, rubbing against him.

“I didn’t realize how late it had gotten already,” you said.

“I didn’t either! But you’re really easy to talk to, so I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised.”

The two of you continued to chat comfortably for a while. Somehow your chairs had crept closer together over the course of dinner, now with Hawks manspreading his legs out with both of yours in between. Suddenly, he let out an uncontrollable, noisy yawn. 

“Geez, sorry! I promise you’re not boring me!” he said, covering his mouth.

“No, I’m sorry for keeping you out so late since you had to play hero all day. Should we take care of the bill and head out?” you asked.

“Bill has been taken care of, and I’m ready to take off whenever you are, doll.”

“Can I give you my half at least?”

Hawks scoffed. “Hell no! I asked, so I take care of you.”

You stood and grabbed your jacket off the back of your chair. “Well then, thank you very much for a lovely dinner, Hero.”

He grinned as he scooted his chair back in place. “The pleasure has been all mine, trust me. How you getting home? Want me to call you a cab?” Hawks asked.

“Actually I was just going to sleep at my office tonight, since it’s way closer.”

Hawks made a concerned face. “On that tiny little love seat? And with your high maintenance sleep issues?”

You shrugged. “I’ll be fine for one night, and I’m not paying for a cab all the way across town.”

“Then I’ll pay for it.”

“Hawks, I can’t let you do that. You already bought me dinner and have been so generous-”

“Then sleep on my couch or something. I can’t let you sleep on that cramped little thing. I have a sectional that’ll be way more comfy, promise. And my place is only a few blocks west, just as close as your office is.”

You smirked and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “You’re not just trying to take me back to your place?” you teased.

He chuckled and shook his head. “I promise, it’s of the purest intentions.”

You smiled. “I’m sure.” You weighed his offer as your slid your jacket back on and headed for the door together. He opened it for you, revealing the dark and damp street once more.

“Didn’t realize it was still raining,” you said, pulling your hood up.

“Ah, me neither. Wanna wait it out?” he asked.

“Nah, the alleyway is all covered.”

After locking up, the two of you walked down the stone alley towards the main street. You both knew that you would be going your separate ways once you reached it, so your steps were slow, taking your time to enjoy the gentle patter of the falling rain against the awnings above. You linked arms with him and pulled yourself close.

“I’ve had a really nice time with you, Hawks,” you said.

He gave your arm a squeeze and let his wings surround the two of you. “I have too. I know we’ve only known each other for a week now, but…” he said softly. “I think you’re pretty damn special.”

You grinned at your boots, heart beating in your ears. “I think you’re pretty damn special, too. And I think I might let you take me on a second date sometime.”

“I’d be my honor, angel.”

Only a handful of steps separated you from the end of the alley. Hardly any cars were out this late and street lamps reflected off the dark rain puddles, making the street look like it was sparkling. 

“But… There’s something I have to ask you,” he continued.

“Mmhmm?”

“You said this was your first date. So…” he hesitated, drawing a shaky breath. “Do you happen to have any rules against kissing on the first date?”

Your heart started pounding and a grin spread across your face. “I hadn’t really considered it.”

Hawks stopped and turned to face you, his amber eyes shimmering in the reflected street light. He was impossibly handsome as he gazed at you, making your guts turn to magma. You stepped in close and toyed with his necklace.

“I’m gonna need a yes or no, angel. Because if you keep looking at me like that, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself.”

Each falling droplet halted in midair. Cars paused in the street. Your pulse quickened as you glanced at Hawks’ patient lips, waiting for yours. You grabbed the lapels of his jacket and brought him close.

“Kiss me,” you breathed.

Without hesitation, Hawks closed the gap. Your heart soared as his lips pressed against yours. Your grip on him grew tighter as your knees grew weaker, and he reciprocated your need by cradling your neck. Passion poured from him deeply into you as your bodies clung together. A predatory desire came flaring to life as you kissed, every cell of your body screaming yes, yes, yes. Lungs emptied of vital air, you breathed in only him, his masculine fragrance dizzying.

Thoughtless and in sensory bliss, Hawks kissed you in a flurry of pecks, then dove deeper to suck on your lower lip. A pleased groan rumbled in your throat. You brushed your tongue against his lip, an invitation to continue. His tongue softly reached out to yours to cause a rush of pleasure from your head to between your legs. A whine ached in your throat. Arms around your waist, Hawks held you securely against him, a desperate breath escaping him between kisses. Your hands wandered over his deliciously muscled biceps, then trailing up to drape over his shoulders. Trembling with lust, you broke away for a moment.

“Your place,” you breathed.

“Wha-?” He pulled back enough to make eye contact.

“Take me to your place.”

part 7: ride

[fnaf-is-awesome201]

Panic at the Pizzaplex!

After being freed from Vanny, Vanessa would rather try to avoid reminders of the whole experience. However, a chance encounter late one night at the Pizzaplex will make that difficult.

Trying something new here. This story is based on “Idea 10″ from @halogenrobotics ‘s list of ideas.

Anyways, here it is. It’s a bit long for a Tumblr post, so most of it is under the read more.

Edit: Made a slight change to the first paragraph.

Vanessa sighed as the doors to the Pizzaplex opened in front of her. It had only been a couple days since the events that had transpired there. All the animatronics were still being repaired in the maintenance room, which somehow made the empty building feel even emptier. She wasn’t looking forward to going back to a place that held such painful memories. She anxiously tugged at the sleeve of her uniform, the feeling of the heavy fabric against her skin becoming more and more uncomfortable with each passing moment. She paused just in front of the main doors, taking a deep breath. Just get in, get it over with, get out. Get in, get it over with, get out... She quickly straightened her posture and smoothed the wrinkles on her sleeve, then walked through the beckoning doors.

As soon as she entered the building, her senses were being assaulted by the atmosphere of the Pizzaplex. There were advertisements plastered on all the bright screens. Everything was colored in brilliant neon as far as the eye could see. The scent of new plastics and the lingering smell of dozens of different kinds of snack foods formed an odd and familiar amalgamation that filled the room. Music from half a dozen different stores poured into the main lobby, clashing with the music already playing over the main speakers and forming a cacophony of mismatched sounds and rhythms. 

Vanessa closed her eyes and tried to focus on her breathing. Get it over with, get out. Get it over with, get out. She heard slow footsteps approaching behind her. She opened her eyes and turned back to look at Gregory, his face blank as he glanced around the lobby. He glanced at his Fazwatch and adjusted his backpack before looking up at Vanessa. After a moment or two, Vanessa shook her head and smiled at Gregory. 

“Right,” she turned towards him, pulling a spare security card and some spare passes out of her pocket, “I guess I’ll just... let you go off and do your own thing then...” She handed him the card and passes, with just enough clearance to let him into places like one of the various arcades scattered about the building and some of the other attractions. She knew he could probably find a way into those places anyways, but it would be safer, and would end with less property damage, if she just gave him the clearance needed to enter. 

“Yeah, I guess so...” They stared at each other for a few moments as the building began to still, with most of the shops now starting to close down for the night. After a few more awkward moments, Vanessa clicked her tongue and turned away from Gregory, starting to venture deeper into the Pizzaplex. 

“Well, I should probably check in and get to work,” She turned to glance back at Gregory. “If you need anything, let me know and... uh... have fun.” She paused for a moment. “And please, try to stay out of trouble...” Gregory huffed and rolled his eyes at her before meandering further into the Pizzaplex. After he left, Vanessa turned back towards the main office and went over to check in. 

The first half of Vanessa’s shift was fairly boring. She checked the stores in the lobby after they had closed, making sure everything was locked and accounted for and making sure no one was hiding in the back storerooms, then moved on to the shops and party rooms at the daycare and the theater, and finally proceeded on to the main atrium.

The atrium was bright and colorful, plastered floor to ceiling with ads and pictures of the animatronics, the star attractions of the Pizzaplex. Despite the vibrant atmosphere, the overwhelmingly familiar scenery put Vanessa on edge as she wandered the first floor. She took a deep breath. Get it over with, get out… She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I can’t wait to get my old job back,” she muttered to herself. She slowly continued through the first floor of the atrium, occasionally bumping into a staffbot or two along the way. Although most of the major attractions had been shut down for the night, the area was still filled with an interesting mix of music and sound effects pouring into open space around her.

Vanessa quickly turned her head as she heard one of the doors behind her open, and out of the corner of her eye she saw something quietly dart into one of the side halls connecting the various attractions. She held her breath for a moment, contemplating what to do next. That wasn’t a staffbot… She took a step back, realizing that the only thing that it could have been was a person. She felt her heartbeat start pounding faster in her chest as she stared at the slowly closing door. Would she have to deal with a dangerous intruder? Would she have to follow this stranger into the dark hallways that wound like a maze through the entire Pizzaplex? Would she really have to do this all alone?

She tightly shut her eyes before taking a few deep breaths, trying to slow down her heartbeat. Get it over with… get out… She opened her eyes and hesitantly walked over to the door, pausing for a moment with her hand hovering over the door handle. If there is someone in here, might as well try and figure out what they’re doing here… I guess… She huffed anxiously before pulling open the door and quickly walking through.

The halls smelled musty and stagnant, the walls mostly dismal gray concrete. A few sections were plastered with colorful posters, all of them with the smiling faces of the animatronics, most captioned with some half-baked slogan or warning about workplace safety. She wandered through the halls, trying her best to keep her footsteps quiet, though she could hardly hear them over the sound of her heartbeat thumping in her ears. Get it over with… get it over with… She pulled at the hem of her sleeve anxiously, her breathing slow and deliberate as she tried to stay calm. She slowly turned the corner, and stopped dead in her tracks.

A little girl was standing at the other end of the hall, facing away from her. Her light pink sweater stood out in stark contrast to the dark gray walls. Her blonde pigtails bounced as she skipped over to one of the other posters on the wall, admiring all the bright colors and giggling at the characters on the posters. Behind her, she dragged a worn-looking Chica plush, covered in dust from the hallway floors. She continued to wander from poster to poster, completely unaware of Vanessa’s presence.

Vanessa stared wide-eyed at the child, her heartbeat pounding louder and louder in her ears as her surroundings narrowed, her focus fixed. She could feel a tightness in her chest as she slowly blinked, her heartbeat going faster and faster with each second. She blinked again, and when she opened her eyes, the world was tinted red. No… She looked down at herself, and immediately felt her entire body tense up. She was wearing a patchwork costume, the hand stitching and the pattern unmistakable. No no no no… She raised a shaking gloved hand up to her face, struggling to breathe. No… this… this isn’t possible… She felt her breathing getting heavier as she turned her hand over and over again. I-I got rid of it… I-I BURNED it… this isn’t possible! She brought her other hand into her view and felt her heart skip a beat when she saw the glinting metal of the blade she held in her hand.

Her focus snapped back in front of her when she heard muffled sobs in the shadows. The room was different from the hallway she had just been in. It was dark and smelled of iron and old, rotting cardboard. There were shelves on either side of her filled with boxes, so much so that the shelves sagged under their weight. And, backed into the corner of the room was the little girl in the pink sweater, her eyes red and tears streaming down her face. Vanessa’s heart broke when she looked at the little girl. She was clutching her arm, blood seeping between her fingers, and her Chica plush was on the ground in front of her, spattered with blood and slashed open, spilling its stuffing onto the floor.

Vanessa attempted to back away and drop the knife, trying to salvage the situation or at least avoid causing more harm, but nothing happened. She struggled and fought as much as she could, but her body didn't respond. Instead, against her will, she painfully took a step forward. No no no stop! A sickening, familiar cackle echoed in the room around her. She tried to fight against herself as she took another step forward, each movement agonizing as Vanny forced her to advance. Stop! She took another step, her head forcibly tilting to the side as she stared into the terrified child’s eyes. Stop! Please, stop! Vanny’s laughter filled the room, much louder than humanly possible as the echo was distorted in the hollow bars on the shelves, creating a dull ringing as the metal shook.

“Let’s have some fun!” She lunged forward and grabbed the child by the arm, pulling her closer as she raised the knife in her other hand. STOP! Every muscle in her body ached and burned as she tried in vain to fight back. STOP! PLEASE STOP! Vanessa shut her eyes so tight that it hurt, the little girl’s screams and Vanny’s maniacal laughter ringing in her ears, until both abruptly ended with a loud thud.

“Ouch!” Vanessa opened her eyes, her ears still ringing. She was back in the hallway, still frozen in place. The little girl had tripped on her untied shoelaces and had fallen onto the ground. She got back up, giggled, and trotted off down the hall away from Vanessa, oblivious to Vanessa standing at the other end of the hall.

Vanessa stood, paralyzed and unable to move. Get out… She struggled to breathe, her heart beating so strong she felt like it could break through her ribs at any moment. Get out… She began to tremble, her hands cold and clammy. Get out. The sounds and music from beyond the hallways faded into static and were drowned out by the loud thumping echoing through her chest and pounding in her ears. Get out! She took a step back. GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!

She turned on her heel and sprinted towards the door back to the main atrium. As soon as she burst through the door, the sights and sounds became overpowering, disorienting her. Her eyes darted around, looking for a way out, looking for a way to get away. The bright lights and vibrant neons blurred her surroundings. She couldn’t tell where she was anymore. Seeing no other option, she picked a direction and ran. Everything began to blur together as she ran aimlessly, hoping to run into something she could recognize. Her stomach was tying itself in knots, and she felt a tightness in her chest as her breathing got faster and faster. All she could hear was her thundering heartbeat and the sound of her footsteps.

Suddenly, she slipped on a freshly mopped section of the floor. She gasped as her feet disappeared from beneath her, sending her crashing to the cold tiled ground. The shock was just enough to bring her surroundings slightly back into focus. As she quickly got back to her feet, she saw a familiar sight. In the hallway in front of her, there was a door to one of the security offices.

She stumbled through the door, slamming and locking it behind her. She stared at the door for a moment, slowly backing into the corner. She slid down the wall and curled up into a ball on the floor, her knees held tightly against her chest as tears streamed down her face, her crying muffled by her hands as she curled in on herself.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she murmured to herself. She stared wide-eyed at the blank space in front of her, her breath shaky as she shivered and trembled. She felt her throat tense as she tried to hold back tears and stay quiet, but after a moment she completely broke down and sobbed loudly, the sound muffled as she held her face in her hands.

After her crying quieted to little more than a whimper, she rubbed her shoulders and picked at the fabric of her uniform, her eyes closed as she tried to calm her breathing. She felt very sore, her muscles still tense. She sighed and wiped her tears on her sleeve, the damp spots showing up clearly on the white fabric.

Her eyes snapped open when she heard a knock on the door. She glanced at her fazwatch. It was nearly the end of her shift already. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath, trying her best to hide the fact that she had been crying before she responded.

“Yes?” Her voice was still very shaky and strained, her response sounding very forced.

“Uh… Vanessa? Are you… okay?” Gregory paused for a moment, giving her some time to respond.

“I’m fine,” Vanessa croaked, holding back more tears. She heard Gregory shifting around on the other side of the door for a moment. Suddenly, she heard the card scanner ding on the other side of the door, and quickly tried to compose herself. She straightened her posture and wiped the remaining tears from her eyes as Gregory walked into the room, a look of concern and confusion in his eyes.

“I think you accidentally called me with your fazwatch…” Gregory held up the watch on his wrist, making Vanessa freeze for a second. “So… what’re you doing in here? And… why are you crying?” Vanessa took a deep breath, picking at the hem of her sleeve.

“I… It’s… There’s… there’s a… a-” She tried to continue, to explain, but the words got stuck in her throat. She could feel more tears flowing down her face. She couldn’t fight it anymore, and she covered her face before bursting into tears.

Gregory took a step back, unsure of what to do. After a moment, they heard a faint noise. Then, the room fell silent. Gregory looked up. The monitors in the office were tuned in to some of the security cameras from around the pizzaplex. One of the monitors displayed footage of the back hallways, and he could see a little girl in a pink sweater sitting on the floor, playing with a Chica plush. The sound of her giggling could be heard coming from the screen.

“A… kid?” He glanced over at Vanessa. She was staring at the floor, picking at her sleeves, avoiding looking at the monitors. “You’re scared of a kid? Why?” He glanced back at the monitor. “I don’t understand… What’s so scary about a little kid?” Vanessa shut her eyes, thoughts and memories running wild in her head.

“I…” She hugged her knees close to her chest, trying to force the words out. “I… I can’t be responsible for another one…” She buried her face in her arms. “I can’t… I-I don’t want to hurt another kid…” Her voice lowered to almost a whisper. “I can’t… I can’t… I can’t,” She repeated over and over again.

“What? Why would-” Gregory paused, his eyes wide when the realization hit. “...Oh…” He looked over at Vanessa. She continued to cry quietly in the corner, hugging herself and seemingly trying to take up as little space as possible. Gregory cautiously walked over to her, before sitting down on the floor beside her.

After a long moment of silence, Vanessa could hear Gregory rummaging around in the backpack she had packed with snacks and stuff for him. He hesitantly patted her shoulder, and she slowly glanced towards him, her eyes red from crying.

“Here,” he held out a bottle of water. “Trust me, it helps.” She took the bottle of water, and Gregory scooted over on the floor to give her some space as she calmed down. Gregory looked through his bag again while Vanessa took a drink of water. He held out a pack of fruit snacks, offering them to Vanessa. She shook her head, taking another sip of water after wiping the tears from her eyes with the edge of her sleeve. Gregory shrugged and put the snacks back in his bag. They sat in silence for a few moments, giving Vanessa some time to catch her breath.

“Look,” Gregory turned to Vanessa, “I know this is scary.” Vanessa glanced at him after a moment or two. “But we do have to do something about this.” Vanessa took a deep, shaky breath.

“I can’t…” She held her head in her hands. Gregory thought for a moment, wrinkling his nose up and tilting his head, creating an odd expression as he tried to think of a way to help. Then, he looked over at Vanessa and gave her a slight smile.

“What if I go with you? Would that help?” Vanessa looked over at Gregory. Why was he so calm about this? Shouldn’t he be afraid of her? What if she tried to hurt him? A million questions ran through her mind. She didn’t want to go out there alone, but she was worried about having Gregory come with her.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea…” Gregory looked over at Vanessa.

“If you’re worried you’ll hurt me or something, I can tell you that I know you won’t. Besides, even if something does go wrong, I think I can handle it.” He stood up and threw his backpack over his shoulder. “I made it through 6 hours here being chased around by Her and a bunch of crazy robots! This is nothing compared to that.” Vanessa stayed tucked into the corner, still worried and not entirely convinced.

“But what if She comes back?” Gregory paused. Vanessa ran a hand through her hair as she looked up at the ceiling. “I can’t stop her…”

“I don’t think she will come back.” Gregory readjusts his backpack as he heads towards the door. “Even if she does, I think I could handle it.” He opens the door and turns back towards Vanessa. “So, ready to go take care of this?” She stares at him for a moment, then she sighs and picks herself up off the floor.

“Okay… let’s get this over with…” She walked through the door, Gregory following close behind her.

The two of them made their way back to the main section of the atrium, stopping on the second floor balcony to look around and see if they could find the little girl.

“Hm… hold on, let me check something…” Gregory looked down at his fazwatch and pushed a couple buttons on the screen, eventually ending up on the screen where he could view the security cameras. “Oh, sweet, I can still use the cameras from here!” After a few minutes of flipping through the different cameras, he pointed at the screen and looked up at Vanessa. “Looks like she’s still in the back hallways. Come on, let’s go!” They headed down the escalator towards the main floor, Gregory leading the way. Once they reached the main floor, Gregory ran towards the door to the hallways.

Vanessa stood frozen at the base of the escalator. She could feel her heart starting to beat faster once again. She felt paralyzed, all the noise starting to become overwhelming once again. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get-

“Vanessa?” Vanessa shook her head and blinked a few times. She looked down at Gregory, now walking back towards her. “Are you okay?” She tried to focus on her surroundings and tried to calm herself down, but it wasn’t working.

“This may sound… a bit strange… but…” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, embarrassed. “Could you… hold my hand? Please?” She looked over at Gregory, even more embarrassed after seeing his shocked expression.

“Uh… yeah, sure.” He walked over and held Vanessa’s hand, leading her towards the door.

“Thank you…” He glanced at her and shrugged, a slight smile on his face.

“I really don’t mind. If it helps, it helps.” Gregory opened the door, the familiar and unwelcoming scene of gray concrete walls and still air stretching out before them. The bright lights and overpowering music faded away as they walked slowly into the darkness.

It was very dark, seemingly even darker than it had been earlier when Vanessa found the girl. After a moment of blindly wandering, Gregory took a flashlight out of his bag. It was dim and needed to be recharged, but it would have to do. He navigated them through the maze of identical corridors, stopping only for a moment when there was a branch-off in the hallway before continuing.

After a few minutes, they could hear the little girl giggling nearby. Vanessa took a few deep breaths as they got closer, trying to keep herself calm. They turned a corner, and wandering down the middle of the hallway, they saw the little girl. She turned to look at Gregory and Vanessa, smiling and waving at them.

“Hi!” She looked back at the posters on the wall, lifting up the Chica plush to look at them as well. Vanessa took a deep breath, then she smiled softly as the girl faced her once again.

“Hello there, what’s your name?” The little girl smiled and wandered to the posters on the wall once again.

“Alice.” She held her Chica plush up to one of the posters before turning back towards Vanessa, holding the plush up towards her and waving its hand. “And this is Chica!” Vanessa waved at the Chica plush.

“Hello, Chica!” The little girl giggled and hugged the plush close to her, messing with the bow on top of its head. “Well, Alice, my name is Vanessa, and this is Gregory.” She waved a hand towards Gregory. “So, Alice…” She knelt down to Alice’s eye level. “It’s awfully late for you to be here. Are you here with someone?”

“My uncle brought me here.” She sat down by Vanessa, still fiddling with the bow on the Chica plush. “We were playing hide and seek! I waited for a long time, but waiting is boring, so I stopped hiding.”

“I see…” Vanessa stayed silent for a moment, trying to think of a way to handle this situation. “Alice, do you happen to know your mom or dad’s phone number?” Alice looked up at Vanessa, a proud smile on her face.

“Yeah! Mommy told me I had to remember it!” Vanessa sighed, relieved that there was an easy solution.

“That’s great!” Vanessa stood up, brushing the dust off of her pant legs. “How about we go wait in the main office in the lobby while I call your mom? I can get you some crayons or something if you want!”  Alice jumped up and down in excitement, then followed beside Vanessa and Gregory as they walked back towards the main atrium.

After they had all made it to the main lobby, Vanessa set out some paper and some crayons for Alice to doodle on while she called her parents. Gregory shared some of his snacks and decided to draw with Alice, chatting away about their favorite animatronics. Vanessa stepped out of the room to get some quiet while she made the call. She put in the number, and after a second, she could hear someone on the other end.

“Hello?” A woman answered, her voice calm and quiet.

“Hello. My name is Vanessa, I’m the night guard here at Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizzaplex.” Nothing but silence came from the phone. “I was given this number by your daughter, Alice.”

“Alice?” She paused for a moment, her calm demeanor fading. “What’s going on?”

“Well, it seems that she was left behind before closing time.” There was a brief pause before she heard a sharp gasp from the phone.

“WHAT?!” Vanessa nearly dropped the phone as she pulled it away from her ear, the mother’s voice so loud that it hurt. She quickly responded, the woman on the other end now anxiously stumbling on her words.

“Don’t worry, she’s fine, she’s waiting in the front office. Would you or someone else be able to come pick her up?” After a moment, she heard the woman take a deep breath.

“I’m on my way.” Her tone was harsh, her anger seeping into every word. After she hung up the phone, Vanessa poked her head back into the office.

“Okay, Alice, your mom is on her way to pick you up, okay?” Alice nodded and hummed in acknowledgement, not looking up from her drawings. Vanessa closed the door and continued to wait in the lobby, occasionally looking through the window into the office to check on the kids. After the security doors opened, she looked through the glass doors and saw a woman running towards the Pizzaplex. She burst through the doors, out of breath and very clearly distressed. She walked up to Vanessa after a brief pause to try and catch her breath.

“Vanessa?” Vanessa nodded.

“Yes, that’s me. You’re here to pick up Alice?” The woman let out a deep sigh, brushing her hair out of her face.

“Yes, I am. Thank you so much for the call.” Vanessa smiled and led her to the door to the main office. As soon as the door opened, Alice jumped up and ran over to hug her mother.

“Hi, mommy!” Her mother knelt down and scooped her up into a tight hug.

“Hello, sweetheart!” She let go of Alice and looked her over, letting out a sigh of relief when she saw she was okay. “I’m so sorry I didn’t pick you up sooner!” Alice giggled.

“It’s okay, mommy. Vanessa let me draw with crayons!” Her mother smiled and picked her up, hugging her again.

“Well, at least you had fun.” She turned back to Vanessa. “I’m so sorry about this. Her uncle can be… forgetful sometimes. Thanks again for the call.” She walked back towards the front doors, Alice sleepily rubbing her eyes and waving to Vanessa and Gregory as her mother carried her. “I swear I’m going to kill that airheaded idiot,” she muttered quietly to herself as she walked through the doors.

Vanessa stood in the lobby, staring at the doors after they left. She sighed, relieved that everything turned out okay. Everything turned out okay… She smiled as she watched the sun rising, the light sending colorful reflections onto the walls around her. Everything is okay. She’s okay. She closed her eyes, letting herself enjoy the warmth that was now enveloping the empty Pizzaplex. I’m okay…

“Vanessa? Is everything okay?” She looked over her shoulder to see Gregory walking towards her, packing what was left of his snacks back into his bag.

“Yeah… everything’s okay.” She smiled, all the worry and anxiety melting away. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

As they approached the doors, Vanessa paused for a moment and smiled. A happy melody played over the lobby speakers, and the sun continued to shine brighter and brighter through the open doors, bathing the entire space in a warm glow. For the first time in a long time, Vanessa was hopeful that things would get better.

[some-creep]

Tumblr doesn't let me @ you because it's the website ever. However.

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She closed her eyes, head resting on her hand as she let the smell of coffee do its best to try and wake her up. Her laptop sat open in front of her, the screen long since dimmed from lack of activity. Ten in the morning was just too early for Marie's brain to start working. Though, by now, it was closer to 10:30. She whined to herself, rubbing at her face to try and rouse herself before she dozed off at the kitchen table. She told herself if she did that, the coffee Callie had made for her would be cold, or worse, room temperature. She willed herself to take a drink before shivering at the overly sugary liquid. Callie insisted the sugar would help wake her up, but Marie was pretty sure she just wanted to steal a drink or two from her cup.

If Callie was here, Marie might have a better chance of staying awake. No such luck today. Callie had an early appointment with a photographer for a makeup advertisement she was in. This left Marie alone to try and get something done. By herself. So early. With no one to nudge her awake.

Marie figured she'd dozed off for real when she heard the front door opening. Callie was back early. Probably. She opened her eyes and tapped on her laptop's spacebar to turn the screen back on. It wasn't even eleven, meaning she hadn't slept for long. Maybe Callie had forgotten something? Marie yawned, listening to footsteps shuffling into the kitchen.

"Hey, you're home early, did something…happen-" it wasn't Callie, though it wasn't anyone she felt the need to straighten up for either.

She leaned back in her chair, stretching. "Hey, Four."

Agent 4 stood a few steps from the kitchen table, holding a folder in her hand. Her posture was straight and her expression unusually serious.

"Is Callie here?" She asked, glancing around the room.

"Uh. No? She's at a job. Why?" Marie paused. "How did you get in here anyway. Wasn't the door locked?"

"You gave me a spare key, remember?"

"Not really." She shrugged. Marie wasn't that concerned. She'd probably given it to her when Callie was missing and forgotten about it. It wasn't as if she was thinking clearly at the time.

Marie took a drink before speaking again, "so what did you need Callie for?"

Agent 4 shifted, looking at her feet before back in Marie's general direction but ultimately avoiding eye contact. "I didn't really want to talk business with just you."

"Business?" Marie repeated, grinning. "Since when do you talk 'business'?" She leaned forward, watching Four avert her gaze once again.

"Since now. Can I sit?"

Marie gestured at one of the empty kitchen chairs, leaning back. She tried to imagine what business Four wanted to discuss. Maybe she wanted free promotion on music she was working on. Did she even do that? Marie didn't really know, though most Inklings seemed to have some interest in music. Maybe she wanted to do work for them? Or just Callie? It made sense she'd want to look for work and connections as a student. Or had she graduated by now? Either way.

She placed her hands on her keyboard, looking at Four, amused by her nervousness still. "Alright. I'm ready for business time."

"This is serious, Marie."

"Serious business." She nodded.

"I mean it."

"Okay, okay, fine. What's up?"

Agent 4 placed the folder on the table, pressing her hands against it to keep Marie from grabbing it. Of course, this only piqued her interest. Four bit her lip, staring at the back of Marie's laptop. "I want you to pay me." She said, voice trembling.

Marie raised an eyebrow. "Pay you for?"

"For the work I did for you. For *Callie*."

"Huh? What work?"

"The work I did for Squidbeak. It's not cheap living in Inkopolis, y'know? I think my roommate has someone to help support her, but I don't, and it's hard to find work that actually pays enough to cover rent, let alone everything else and-"

"Nah. Agents don't get paid." She said, not giving it even a moment's thought. Four's rant was depressing, but it really wasn't her problem.

Four pressed her fingertips into the folder, still not looking at Marie. "I saved the Great Zapfish. I saved *Callie*. I risked my life for you guys. Isn't that worth anything to you?"

"You volunteered."

Four was silent for a while, hands balled into fists. Marie had told her already there were no parades for secret agents. She wasn't really sure what the point of all of this was. Four hadn't been this insistent after Callie came home, so why now?

"Was that all your serious business, Four?"

"I've got a real name, you know. Do you even know what my real name is?"

"Where's all this coming from?"

"You don't, do you. You act like you know everything about me but you don't actually know anything about me as a person! Was I just someone for you to take advantage of because it was convenient for you? Because you thought I didn't know any better?"

"I didn't 'take advantage of you', you volunteered, like I said."

Marie was sat straight up now, a stony expression on her face. She wasn't going to let Four sit there and accuse her of things that weren't true. She never made Four do anything. Not once.

"You really think this is the best way to beg for money?" She laughed humorlessly. "You thought you'd just come in here and yell at me because you're, what, late on rent? Car broke down?"

"I saw something I don't think I was supposed to." Four said, looking up at her. Marie backed down, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Dunno what that could be."

"Yes you do."

Marie couldn't be sure, but she thought that, ever so briefly, Agent 4 was looking at her in disgust. She was probably just imagining things. Four hadn't said anything concrete, and Marie wasn't going to give anything away.

"It's pretty sick if you ask me. I don't think I would have 'volunteered' like you keep saying if I knew."

"I don't know what you're even talking about anymore."

"I thought you guys were my friends. Callie at least. But after this? No. Still, I really didn't want to have to do this. I don't *want* to hate you guys but I can't even look at you after all of this. I gave you a chance to do things the easy way."

"Still don't know what this is about." She could feel herself trembling and held her breath to try and stop it. She did know. But she didn't know to what extent.

Four held up the folder keeping it pinched closed. "You. And Callie."

Marie felt her body go cold. She said nothing.

"After you used me it's the least you could do to help support me. Otherwise…" Four fanned the folder back and forth, as if taunting Marie.

"You're bluffing."

"Is that really what you think?"

Marie froze before she tried to speak, mouthing words with no sound and no meaning. She couldn't force a coherent thought, let alone a sentence.

"Are you gonna listen to me now?"

"What d… what's in…there."

"Are you going to listen to me?"

Marie nodded weakly, feeling distinctly as if her life was officially over.

Four opened the folder, pulling out a printed copy of an all too clear image of her and Callie at Tentakeel Outpost, hiding, or so they thought, next to the shack. Marie had her back pressed against it and Callie stood in front of her, kissing her. She felt herself crying, though she still didn't move.

"I have the -rest- of it, too."

"You can't…"

"Give me a reason I shouldn't."

"I… Four–"

"That *isn't* my name."

If she ever did know Agent 4's name, she had no chance of remembering it now. "I'm sorry."

Four pulled out another picture, seemingly just to torment her now, of Callie kneeling down in front of Marie to…

She couldn't look. She felt sick. She felt violated. "Please don't tell Callie about this."

"You're using her too, aren't you."

Marie's head shot up at the accusation. It was one she'd often grappled with herself. Sometimes she did feel like she was just using Callie, despite Callie insisting otherwise. But Callie depended on her so much that it wasn't hard to consider the idea that she only went along with Marie's perversions in order to be taken care of.

"Please don't say that. I'm… I'm not. I wouldn't do that."

"So you're above using people?"

"No– yes– I don't know. What do you want!"

"However much you think this little secret is worth."

Marie blurted out the first response she could think of, body in survival mode. "Ten. Ten percent. Of everything. From today on. Bank accounts. Sales. Appearance fees. All of it."

"Ten percent! Maybe ten percent can be what you keep. Unless, you really don't think this secret is life ruining and you're just being dramatic~." Four was enjoying her first taste of real power over someone a little too much. She seemed as if she'd already forgotten her original intentions for coming here. Things were getting out of hand.

"I - fine, fine fifty. That's my half of everything. The whole. The. The whole brand. The-"

"Aren't you retired? Can't imagine your brand carries much weight anymore. Especially not after this."

"After what? You didn't tell anyone did you? You won't tell if you get what you want, right? That's the deal. Four. This is serious. This is my life we're talking about, it's not just my brand. What do you want, just tell me."

She liked to hear Marie beg, that much was clear by her expression. But Marie was beginning to realize her begging was only spurring her on and making things worse.

"I want you to start by calling me my name."

"I don't know your name!" She said, slamming her hand down on the table, "I never knew your name because you didn't tell me and I. I didn't really see a reason to ask because I thought you were fine with Four. I thought it was. I thought it was just a nickname between us or. Or something I don't know. I thought you liked the agent thing. Three likes the agent thing."

"Bet you don't know Three's name either."

Marie shut up. She didn't know Three's name.

"You're really selfish, y'know that?"

She nodded.

"Everything has always gone right for you, hasn't it? Miss Superstar."

Marie nodded again. The accusation wasn't true, but now wasn't the time to argue or try and correct her.

"Maybe it's time something doesn't go your way. Money's only good for so long, and you have so much of it I'm not sure it'll even matter if you lost some to me."

"Please–" she begged. Maybe she'd wake up from this bad dream soon. "Do you really want to hurt Callie this way too?"

Four shrugged. "Can't be helped."

"Didn't you just say you thought of Callie as your friend? I know I'm not your friend but. But. There's gotta be something. You don't understand what'll happen if you tell people about us."

"Okay, okay, fine. Transfer me…say. 5,000g to start."

Marie only just fought back the urge to say, "that's it? all of this for that little money?" Instead, she fumbled to unlock her phone to give in to Four's demands. She considered doubling it but she feared offending her further by giving off the impression that money really didn't matter to her at such small amounts.

"It's done. Do you promise to stop now?"

Four set the folder down, taking her hands off of it. Marie grabbed it, clutching it to her chest like a stuffed toy, rocking gently with it in her arms to try and calm down.

Agent 4 stood up from the kitchen table, looking down at her with disgust. "Hey, Marie."

Marie didn't answer, seeming to no longer process what was going on around her. Four continued anyway.

"Should have bought the camera from me instead."