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wolfjackle-creates · 1 year

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I'll Carry Your Heart with Me (Until I Find You Again): Part 3

And this is the third and final part of my hundred follower celebratory writing. The fic will continue past this, but it will be a while before I can return to it. I want to get back to Ghost!Robin and Bring Me Home first. This was a blast to write, though.

The angst starts here. Parts 1 and 2 were fun and fluffy. But things take a turn here. And it'll be quite a while before our boys can get back to happier times.

Mostly Jason POV with a short section from Danny's.

3.8k words. There wasn't a great place to break it up.

First, Previous

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Jason sighed as Danny flew out of his range of awareness, leaving him alone in his lair again. Though… he touched his lips which still tingled with cold and smiled to himself. At least this time he was left with some pleasant memories.

Turning his back to the swirling void, he entered the brick building that housed the most important parts of his home from before. Ignoring the kitchen, he walked through a door and into his bedroom. It was the only place he had yet to show Danny.

Though maybe he should change that?

He flopped down on his bed and touched his lips again before rolling over and burying his face in his pillow. God, he felt like a teenage girl. Was this why Dick liked to meet up with girls? Jason had kissed girls a few times before, but with Danny… It just felt so much better.

Maybe it was because his mouth was cool? Kissing him felt like a drink of fresh spring water on a hot day. Or perhaps it was the way they could project their feelings while kissing. And not needing to breathe was definitely nice.

He sighed and moved until he was staring up at the ceiling. How in all the realms was Danny interested in him? A dumb kid who got in over his head and died because of it.

Danny was still alive, too. With a sigh, he pushed himself up. He didn’t want his thoughts to go this way—he wanted to bask in their first kisses some more.

Would Danny get too old for him?

Alfred would have been able to set him right. Let him know if this was doomed from the start or if he might actually have something. And Dick… Well, first he’d tease. But after. They’d go to the gym and when he was tired out and sweaty, they’d go and get milkshakes or something and Dick would give surprisingly helpful advice. The type he couldn’t quite bring himself to ask Alfred or Bruce.

Bruce would be insufferable, of course. He’d insist on researching everything he could about Danny. Would probably stalk him, too. But after he was convinced Danny wasn’t trying to take advantage, he’d tell Jason to invite him for dinner. He thought they’d probably get along, too. While their personalities were quite different, their morals were a perfect match.

But no. He’d never get any of that. Because he had to be an idiot and die.

Though… did death have to be permanent? Danny had come back after all. And hadn’t several members of the Justice League died at one point before returning to life?

Could he do that?

Restless now, he got out of bed and made his way to the gym. These were the types of thoughts that only made sense when he was doing something physical. One routine in particular was his “thinking routine.” His dad would always call Alfred in if he saw Jason doing this one. How would he be able to come back?

Most of the stories he heard required something happen to the body on Earth. But he didn’t have that option. He was limited to the Infinite Realms. But… these lands were infinite. There had to be someone or something here that could help him. Maybe there’d be some information in Ghost Writer’s lair? What other ghosts had Danny told him about?

And then he remembered: Desiree. He froze, leg in the air as he was halfway through a kick. If he’d still been human, he would’ve fallen on his face.

Desiree had been able to rewrite reality so that Danny and Sam had never met. In doing so, she’d erased his death from ever happening. If she could do that, bringing Jason back from the dead would have to be a piece of cake. So long as he phrased his wish correctly.

Now that he had a new mission, he fell out of his fighting stance and made his way to the library. He had a wish with a genie to craft.

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With how time never seemed to work right in the Realms, Jason wasn’t sure how long it took him to craft his wish. But he finally had it. And this one shouldn’t backfire on him.

I wish I was alive again with a healthy body and intact mind.

Though he did continue trying to think it through. Would it be possible to twist this one? If it was, Desiree would find away. At least if Danny’s stories could be believed. And Ember and Kitty insisted that Danny downplayed his stories more than anything.

Which was hard to believe, even as a former Robin.

Now he had to find Desiree. And as much as he wracked his brain, he didn’t think Danny had given him any sort of clue as to where her lair might be located. And he didn’t want to just ask someone straight out. They’d try and dissuade him from going. Even worse since the only ghosts he really knew were ones Danny introduced him to. Apparently it was normal for a ghost to not leave their lair much for the first few years after death, so he hadn’t yet done much exploring of the Realms.

Though Danny had once tried to sketch him a vague map. Apparently things in the Realms had a tendency to move around a lot, but clusters did form among people of similar background. Medieval European ghosts clustered together in one area, Kryptonians could be found somewhere else, and so on.

Now, where did the ghosts from the Middle East gather? He looked over the map Danny had given him and chewed his lip as he tried to figure out where things were in relation to him. No sun or cardinal directions made it so much harder to orient anything. Which was probably the point.

But he did have some anchors to recognize. After being to Ghost Writer’s domain, he could find that again. And he’d once gone to visit Kitty and Johnny with Danny. So that was another point of reference.

Finally, he thought he had at least enough of an idea to get close. It would have to do, though Bruce would have insisted on more research.

But Bruce wasn’t here which was the entire point.

Well, that and he didn’t want Danny to get older and not want to date or kiss him anymore. It’d be fine for a few years, but what about when Danny was twenty or forty or whatever and Jason was still the same fifteen year old kid?

He shook his head. That didn’t matter because he’d be able to grow up, too. Dick would be there to tease him about his boyfriend. And Alfred would give him a hug and his favorite meal. And Bruce would help him finish school and get into a good college and would celebrate every passing grade with him.

With those pleasant thoughts, he exited his lair. He gave it one last look before setting off in the direction he believed would lead him to Desiree.

He hadn’t been traveling very long when he approached a lair who’s ghost was sending off such strong stay-away vibes that Jason was forced to go around. Putting him quite far off course. The ghost must have been strong to control such a large area of the Zone.

Gritting his teeth, he tried to reorient himself to get back on track.

Which is when he heard a menacing chuckle from behind him. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the whelp’s friend. You’d make such good bait. With you at the center of my trap, I may actually catch the boy and finally get his pelt for my wall.”

Jason spun, Robin costume appearing as he did. Behind him, his cape flared. “And you must be Skulker. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’m sure you have.” Although his face was just a mecha suit, it grinned viciously. “But you will not find me so easy to escape.” Compartments on Skulker’s shoulders opened and a flurry of small missiles flew out at him.

A wave of Jason’s hand brought up a shield that easily deflected the projectiles. He turned invisible and quickly changed position, sending his own ectoblasts back at Skulker. After months of sparing with Danny, he knew how to handle himself in a ghost fight. He could even hold his own against Johnny when he came to visit.

Of course, fighting with Skulker was not on the agenda for today. He just wanted to get to Desiree.

“Can’t you see that I have better things to do today? Go bug Ember or something!” shouted Jason.

The only response he got was another missile sent his way. Only this one tracked him. Reaching into his core, Jason sent out a burst of flame, exploding it before it could get too close. There had to be something he could do to end this battle sooner rather than later.

At the very least, he could get some distance between himself and Skulker. He retreated a bit, wishing that the Realms had more cover instead of being mostly open void.

And then he felt it. The stay-away feeling from the lair he’d avoided earlier. Skulker shouted something else, though Jason didn’t bother to pay attention to the words. Instead, he made his way closer to the lair. To his satisfaction, Skulker followed.

It wouldn’t do to project his own presence, so Jason pulled in on his power, keeping it coiled tightly around his core. He focused hard on not projecting any emotions. Danny taught him how to hide his presence from other ghosts in order to prank Dani who had tagged along to visit.

Now, to make Skulker really mad. Jason turned to face his attacker and stuck out his tongue and waved his hands next to his head. “Na, na, na, na, na, na!” he called.

“Whelp!” roared the other ghost as he pulled out a huge bazooka and shot several blasts.

Jason immediately turned invisible and pulled his aura in even tighter, flying away from his position as fast as possible.

Not even a moment later, a loud booming voice called out, “Who disturbs my peace?”

Jason didn’t wait to see what sort of ghost it was, he just focused on escaping. After who-knows-how-long flying, he slowed down and looked around. He couldn’t see Skulker anywhere. More cautiously, he let his aura expand again. There were some ghosts around, but none of them felt aggressive or seemed to pay him any mind.

Now he had to figure out where he was and how far off course he’d gotten. Looking around, the doors and buildings he could see all looked old. Stone walls and thatched roofs. Weathered wooden doors. So he was in the territory of older ghosts. Excellent. Though the architecture definitely looked more European than Middle Eastern.

He pushed on. No way was he going to turn back now.

After passing who knows how many lairs, he stopped for a moment to try and get his bearings. Obviously just continuing on was not going to work.

“Thine garb is unlike any I have seen,” commented a voice from behind him.

Jason spun and came face-to-face with an elderly woman who he couldn’t help but describe as matronly. Her dress was extremely old and she had a head wrap, though wisps of shadow instead of hair were just visible under the fabric.

“No, ma’am. I’m just passing through.”

“A pilgrimage? Where dost thou go?”

“I… yeah. I’m on a pilgrimage. I’m trying to find the Middle Eastern ghosts. Er… Constantinople? The Ottoman Empire?” He had no ideas what the countries would have been called back when this woman had been alive and hoped he got wasn’t completely off. “In life, I had some teachers from that area and I wanted to see if I could learn more in death.”

She nodded in understanding. “Much can be learned in death that life left no time for. But thou hast been turned around. Thine destination is not in this direction.”

“Can you direct me?”

She smiled. “Certainly.”

Though once she started explaining the path, Jason sent out a few curses to the ancients. Why couldn’t things stay still in the Realms? From their current position, he was supposed to go down until he came to a lair which was a stone tower that flew red flags. Then he had to spin in a circle clockwise five times. When he stopped, he might be facing Queen Dora’s city. In that case, he had to fly in the opposite direction.

But he might also end up facing a fortress made of black stones and guarded by skeletons. If that happened, he should go left. If he found himself facing a forest with a waterfall, he should continue straight past it.

And for each option, another half dozen instructions followed. Thank the ancients Bruce had tested him on memorizing complicated directions constantly as Robin. He wasn’t sure how else he would have found the way.

“Thank you,” he said once she had finished.

“May thine journey bring thee peace.” And she was gone.

Jason repeated her instructions, going straight down until he saw the tower with the red flags. He spun. And found himself facing a medieval European city with a black and purple dragon flying in circles over it. On her head was a golden crown: Queen Dora. He turned his back to the city and flew in the opposite direction.

It took so long to come across the next landmark he was told to look out for that he was afraid he had done something wrong. But he had no other guide, so he kept going.

And eventually he found it. And the next one. And the one after that.

And finally, he noticed a change in the architecture. The towers became more graceful. The materials they were made of changed.

“Desiree!” he called.

No one answered. He kept going.

Every so often he would call her name. He let his aura spread to see if he could sense any powerful ghosts. The few ghosts that were around disappeared as soon as they heard her name leave his mouth.

For the first time, he started to wonder if this was a bad idea.

Just when he was about to give it up and turn around, a presence made itself known.

Amusement, curiosity, entertainment surrounded him.

The mix of emotions sent a jolt of fear up his spine. It felt so similar to how The Joker would laugh when he got them in a trap. How he laughed when he laid that last trap; the glee he projected as he smashed Jason’s bones with a crowbar.

“Who calls me?” echoed a woman’s voice in the void around him.

Jason forced his back to remain straight as he faced the direction he could sense the presence in. “My name is Jason! Jason Todd and I have a wish.”

Smoke gathered before him forming into a giant woman with long black hair and bright green skin. She smiled at him; it sent shivers down Jason’s spine. “Lucky for you, wishes are my domain. What do you wish for, Jason Todd?”

If he still had a heart, it would be beating fast in his chest. As it was, he was glad he didn’t have to breathe. Far easier to hide how much he was starting to regret this journey.

But no. He needed to do this. All his reasons for being here still existed. It was far too late to turn back now. “I wish I was alive again with a healthy body and mind intact.”

“So you have wished it, so shall it be!” Desiree waved her hands and Jason was surrounded in a wave of power. It twined around him. He was spinning and wind tore at his clothes. He slammed his eyes shut as laughter echoed in the tornado. He curled up, trying to protect himself from the unrelenting power.

And then everything was silent. It was dark and he was lying on his back. He pushed up and yelped when his head hit something hard right above his head. Where was he? What was going on? He banged on the top of the box he was in.

He needed out. He pushed and screamed. Something shifted and he pushed harder. It was cold, why was it so cold? Something broke above his head and he coughed as dust fell into his mouth. He closed his eyes and mouth tight and kept pushing. The surface gave. It poured down on him, but he pushed his way up.

Nothing could keep him trapped. Never again. When had he been trapped before? Where was he? He pushed through and his hand reached the other side of whatever he’d been trapped in. He pushed more. His other hand was free. He grasped and pulled himself free.

And finally he could breathe. And see. Someone was supposed to be here. Where were they? Why hadn’t they come for him? He needed to find them. They were here. They had to be. They wouldn’t have abandoned him. Not again.

Where were they? Where Were They?!

He pulled himself up. He stumbled. He kept going. He had to find them. The person, people?, who were supposed to be here. Why weren’t they here?

He took one step after another. They were nearby. A person! Right ahead! Was that them? No. It wasn’t. They were wrong! Why were they here? He pushed them away. They weren’t supposed to be here. They weren’t the right person. He kept going.

But everyone he found was not right. Why weren’t they right? Where were they?

The world got brighter. More people came out. They still weren’t right. It got dark. Where was he? Why was everything wrong?

Another wrong person. He tried to punch them. Only this time, his fist didn’t connect. They said something. The voice was wrong. He tried to kick, but that was stopped to. More people surrounded him.

His arms were pinned back. Then his legs. He couldn’t move. Why couldn’t he move? He tried to scream. Something was shoved in his mouth. He couldn’t scream. He struggled. He needed to get free. He needed to find the right person. Where were they? Where were they?

The world went black. When it lightened again, he saw a pool of green.

Green was safe. Green meant home and peace and an end to the fighting and the fear and the pain. He struggled, needing to get to it. But he couldn’t move his arms and his legs. And people were touching him. Surrounding him. Still the wrong people.

He thrashed and tried to scream. He wanted the right people. And suddenly he could move again. The people ran away from him. But that was fine. He didn’t want them near him. His legs hurt. And walking felt strange. But he stumbled forward. He needed to get to the green.

He sunk down deep and let the green take over. He breathed it in and everything made sense. This was right. This was home. The woman who brought him here was the right person. She was green and green was peace.

But when the green faded, all he saw was red. Red all over his hands and his arms and his clothes.

And he was so, so cold.

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Less than a week after their date (yes Jazz, he could admit it was a date now) at Ghost Writer’s lair, Danny returned to spend more time with his boyfriend. His boyfriend.

Only… when he got there, Jason’s lair was empty and abandoned. The island was entirely gone, leaving just the door. When he opened it, a layer of dust covered everything. The kitchen was filled with moldy food. Water overflowed the blocked sink. He floated above the floor, not wanting to step in the mess. What had happened? Where was Jason? The library. He had to be there. His hand shook as he turned the doorknob.

The mess in the library was almost worse. All the books had been knocked off their shelves and lay haphazardly all over the floor—spines broken and pages torn and bent. Jason hated damaging a book.

“No. No,” he whispered. This wasn’t real. A ghost’s lair reflected their state of being. Jason was okay. He had to be.

He backed out of the library. The gym. Jason always went there when he was upset. Only the gym was empty, too. It was in just as awful of shape. The punching bag had been split and it’s sand spilled over the floor. The weights were tossed about, the floor cracked under where they’d fallen.

There was only one more room. The only room Danny had never been in before.

With shaking hands, he opened the door to Jason’s bedroom. Clothes were strewn around the floor, torn and dirty. The bed was messy, but something was glowing under the covers.

He let himself land on the floor. He needed the connection to the world. Nothing felt real. The clothes piled on the floor meant his footsteps were silent, though his breaths echoed loud in his ears. It seemed to take forever to reach the bed.

His hand shook as he reached for the blankets and pulled them back one by one. Under the last one he saw what looked like a smoldering, black coal.

Jason’s core.

“No.”

Danny instinctively took a step back. That couldn’t be Jason. It couldn’t. He didn’t know how long he stared at the burning coal. He had to move. He stepped forward again and sunk to his knees by the bed. He reached forward and gently touched the core. It was barely warm to his touch.

It should have been an inferno. Jason burned so brightly. His breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t breathe. He fell the rest of the way down, face pressed into the dirty, dusty sheets. He flared his aura.

The core felt like Jason. It was him.

Danny pushed himself up enough to cradle it gently in his hands. How could Jason be so small? He held him to his chest and curled around him. Whatever happened, he’d make it better. He’d find out who had hurt Jason and he’d make them pay.

His eyes burned and the world grew blurry as he cried, curled around Jason’s comatose form.

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So, don't @ me about the "intact mind" thing. I will address that later in the fic. I promise it's not a plot hole!

Tag List

@britcision, @echoednonny, @adorablechaos, @letoasai, @saphjack, @emergentpanda-blog

#dpxdc #danny fenton #jason todd #desiree (dp)#dead on main #angst #and now the happy times are over #jason and danny both have some long roads ahead of them #i apologize for butchering the early modern english i had the guide ghost speaking #things will get worse before they get better #but they will get better #they just have to earn their happy endings #i honestly planned to stop writing after the kiss #but the rest of this flowed so easily that i had to continue

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misslavenderlady · 1 year

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He's Just an Actor - Chapter 1 ❤️

Dwayne/Female!Reader (She/Her Pronouns)

Summary: The reader has gotten used to her time in the world of The Lost Boys and her new relationship with the handsome vampire, Dwayne. When the boys get curious about the actors who play them in the other world, the reader suddenly remembers her boyfriend's actor has had quite the interesting experiences in his line of work~

This is in the universe of the fic "It's Just a Movie" by @theyreonlynoodlesmike, so you should definitely read that first (this takes place a little into chapter 12)! I originally planned this to be just for Dwayne, but ended up doing something for all four boys. This one is 3 chapters, but the other ones will be 1 chapter each.

WARNINGS: Nsfw/Smut/18+ Readers Only, Flirting, Dirty Thoughts

Next Chapter

When you had first gotten settled into your crazy new life in the world of The Lost Boys and the city of Santa Carla, your new, vampire friends had bombarded you with several questions about the world you came from. Whenever you had some downtime in between decorating your space and planning on rewriting their tragic demise, your boys, particularly Marko and Paul, asked about what the future was like. They wanted to know about special events in history, fashion changes in the upcoming decades, and the new technology that awaited them (considering how they mocked the digital movie ticket on your phone the night you met, that one surprised you the most).

As much as you would have loved to tell them about the future, you had to constantly shut down the conversation. They had to realize that not only could their world end up differently from yours, but if it did end up going the same way, then you couldn’t risk triggering drastic changes to the timeline. When you had asked if the movie Back to the Future existed in this world and they said it did, you made a point of comparing the situation to the one Doc Brown spoke of.

However, you did throw them a bone and say that if the film industry here was the same as your own, then they could expect two sequels from that movie. They were surprisingly delighted to hear that.

After a couple of weeks of getting settled in, you had given in to a few of their minor questions about your world. You were a bit more open about talking about your family and friends and the life that wouldn’t exist for more than 30 years. They were surprisingly good listeners when you fed them those tidbits, no doubt grateful that you gave into them.

One night in particular, you were cuddled up on the couch with Dwayne, now a few days into your relationship with him after sharing that unexpected, yet very sweet first kiss in your room. He had been playing cards with the other three Lost Boys while holding you in his lap when a question was brought up.

“Holy shit, you know what I just realized?” Paul exclaimed, nearly dropping his cards on the cave floor. “If our lives are a movie in your world, that means ACTORS had to play us”.

“Yes, Paul. There are in fact actors instead of vampires playing the roles in the movie” you snorted, amused that it had taken the poor stoner this long to realize this. To your surprise, the other three seemed to perk up as well. To be fair, when they saw their own images on your phone screen, they had just accepted it as themselves, not actors merely pretending to be creatures of the night.

“You gotta tell us about them!” Paul eagerly said, his cards and the game they were playing forgotten. “I gotta know who’s the guy who shares my gorgeous face”.

Before you made a joke about Paul’s vanity, Marko and David nodded and joined in with his request.

“Yeah! I wanna know who plays me! What’s he like?” Marko asked.

“I’ll admit, I’m pretty curious myself. You don’t have to tell us too much, we just want to know the basics,” David agreed. At least he was considerate enough to recognize the limits you had about sharing the future with them.

You wanted to keep your mouth shut about it. They might get jealous of one another for their actors having different ranges of success in their respective careers. Before you could deny them, you felt Dwayne’s warm breath on your skin as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“C’mon, baby” he whispered to you, knowing damn good and well his voice was enough to make you melt. “Just tell us a little bit, please”

Now how could you possibly say no to that?

You ended up telling them as much as you knew about their actors. As you expected, David got laughed at by the others for his actor having the first name “Kiefer”. When Paul commented that it sounded like “reefer”, you confirmed that Kiefer Sutherland said in interviews that he had gotten teased with that nickname as a kid. That only added more to the mocking they threw his way.

What made David’s ego boost again was hearing that his actor had by far the longest list of movie and tv credits out of all of them, making his name the most well-known in Hollywood. As you listed everything from Stand By Me to A Few Good Men to 24, you could see the smugness growing in David’s eyes, no doubt proud of his counterpart for his impressive resume. The others scoffed, saying it wasn’t fair that David’s actor had it so good, especially when you said he had a father who was a famous actor as well.

Paul was very sore that his actor, Brooke McCarter, had such a short list of acting roles for his career. He was even more cranky that the other movie he was most well-known for was about skateboarding.

“That’s Dwayne’s thing, not mine!” he pouted. Your body gently shook from Dwayne chuckling in amusement behind you.

However, that pout went away when you mentioned that Brooke had experience in both modeling and music. You complimented the wonderful singing voice that he had in the bits of song samples you had come across. Paul was practically puffing like a peacock at the idea that his looks and musical skills were just as prominent in your world as it was in their world.

You were so happy to see him so proud that you didn’t have the heart to tell him that Brooke had unfortunately passed away from his liver disease. You remembered how heartbroken you were when you learned the news and how much all of his fans, friends and family must have been hurting as well. All you said was that his actor was a kind man who was a dear friend to everyone in the movie production and a good father to his daughter. It was all he needed to know.

You were definitely excited to tell Marko about his actor next. Along with being a big fan of The Lost Boys, you also adored the Bill & Ted movies. You gushed to him about Alex Winter’s comedy skills and how even after several decades the most recent movie in the franchise was amazing (and you would fight anyone who said otherwise). He smiled as you explained the cultural impact, and even asked him to repeat the iconic “be excellent to each other” line the same way Bill S. Preston, Esq. would say it. When he humored you and did so, you were practically squealing with delight.

Marko was pleasantly surprised when you mentioned Alex’s experience in both Broadway and directing. He was impressed when you listed off the more serious work he created, but when you gave a taste of the fun and insanity from his movie Freaked, that really put a smile on his face. Glancing at Paul as you explained the wacky plot you could tell he was wishing it was real in their world so that he could watch it while stoned out of his mind.

Overall, everyone was satisfied with the answers you were giving them, and you in turn felt pretty good about giving them some information about the world you came from. It felt like you were bonding with them more, sharing the things that brought joy to you and what made your boys the way they were in their movie.

Behind you, Dwayne adjusted your position so that you were seated on the couch next to him instead of on his lap. He held your hand in his own, the cool temperature clashing beautifully with your human warmth. That same eagerness the others had was prominent on his face as well.

“What about my actor? What’s he done?”

You were ready to go on your tangent, you really were. After seeing everyone else so happy, you were on a roll with sharing the work of their actors. However, when Dwayne asked his innocent question, you only then realized something important.

His actor was Billy Wirth, and you now remembered that Mr. Wirth had a surprisingly large amount of sexual roles in experience.

Your brain was short-circuiting as you mentally went down the list of roles you had seen in his filmography on Wikipedia back in your world. Desperately, you had to think of something that wouldn’t make you start blushing at the mere mention.

It didn’t help your situation that Billy’s first movie role in Seven Minutes in Heaven was as a flirtatious baseball player that stole cotton candy out of the mouth of a girl he didn’t even know before taking her into a lingerie store. You remembered how quickly your jaw dropped while watching that movie when he unsnapped a mannequin’s bra with just one hand.

Next!

Right after The Lost Boys, he had used his partial indigenous heritage to play the main role in the movie War Party. As much as you wanted to bring light to that one, all you could think of was how gorgeous he had looked without a shirt while riding a horse in some of the scenes. At least in this world, he had his jacket on to keep you from going positively braindead.

Next!!

You were a big fan of the show Tales from The Crypt, and you could talk a mile a minute about all the famous actors that had made cameos in each episode. However, you weren’t ready to explain the fact that Billy’s role in his episode involved being a hot lumberjack that got seduced by his boss’ wife before fucking her on one of the beds in the log cabin. Even if other stuff happened in that episode, you’d be skimping out on a lot of the plot if you tried to skip over it.

NEXT!!!

Children of the Dust? His character had a passionate sex scene with a beautiful co-star in a hay pile while asking her to run away with him. Ever since you first watched that you had developed fantasies about being ravaged in a wedding dress. Venus Rising? Might as well call it “Cyber Sex, The Movie”. His episode on Charmed? God, you swooned every time you heard the line “If it pleases you to look, then look~” while seeing Billy stand proudly in tight jeans and no shirt. Not to mention the way he had grabbed that one actress from behind and told her to defend herself really did things to you.

By the time you thought about the most sexual role of all on his list, Red Shoe Diaries, you truly realized how royally fucked you were in this situation. Out of all the hot vampire guys to make a move on you, why did it have to be the one whose actor had the most risqué roles?? Even if all the other actors had varying degrees of experience with sex scenes in movies, you couldn’t deny that Billy Wirth’s stood out to you the most.

“HA! She can’t think of anything! Looks like you got the short end of the stick, Dwayne!” Marko teased his friend. It was only then that you snapped out of your trance, seeing the worried expression on your boyfriend’s face now. Fuck, he probably thought your silence meant you couldn’t think of any other acting roles at all. You had to stop the others from mocking him even further.

“No no! I’m sorry, I zoned out for a second!” you profusely apologized. God, that look on Dwayne’s face made you feel awful. “Your actor’s name is Billy Wirth, and I promise you, he’s been in plenty of stuff!”

You managed to calm your nerves and your lady bits enough to list off some of the more innocent roles he was known for. You stuck with roles from the 21st century, explaining all of the cameos his actor had in popular tv shows. To add some more notes to the list, you mentioned how Billy Wirth was also into directing independent films as well. When Dwayne still seemed skeptical, you went off on a tangent about how his actor and Paul’s had met through the same modeling agency and he had his own impressive career in that field.

As long as you didn’t think TOO much about all those gorgeous pictures of Billy Wirth’s photo sessions, you’d be fine.

Finally, he seemed happy with your explanation and you mentally patted yourself on the back for pulling all that stuff out without getting flustered. If you had ended up blushing at the thought of Dwayne’s actor passionately kissing and touching one of his female co-stars, you would NEVER hear the end of it from David and the terror twins.

“He sounds like a cool guy. I’m glad to have someone like that play me” Dwayne said. His gentle smile helped put you at ease. Finally, you could stop worrying about the situation. You ended up moving the conversation to tell the boys fun facts about The Lost Boys movie and the process that went into filming it.

It was all in good fun until David politely, yet firmly reminded you that the sun would be rising in just a few, short minutes. Sure enough, when you glanced out of the main entrance to the cave, you saw how dangerously light the sky was getting. Time really did fly when you were having fun.

Each one of the boys bid you farewell for the day, thanking you for telling them about the lives of their actors from your world. David headed to their dark section of the cave first, still carrying himself in a smug way from all the roles you told him about. Marko and Paul followed him and you could hear them whispering about becoming models in their own world as well. You chuckled to yourself, wondering how they planned to do it with such limited time they were available in the day. No sunny photoshoots at the beach for them.

When it was just you and Dwayne, you felt your heartbeat speed up. As he reached to cup his hand against your cheek, you couldn’t help but feel like he was reading the look on your face a little too closely. Trying to figure out the real reason you had that moment of silence when he asked about his actor. You feigned innocence, simply smiling at him in a loving manner before leaning in for your farewell kiss.

“Sweet dreams, honey,” you told him before slipping from his touch and making a beeline for your room. If he was about to question your hesitation from earlier, you were gonna get the hell out of there before he got a single word in. Thankfully, as you slipped past the curtain by your room entrance, you heard the sound of footsteps making their way out of the main room and into the sleeping area with the others.

As the sunshine crept into the cave, you got settled into your bed, ready to just relax and enjoy some rest before the next night came. You snuggled into a nearby pillow, breathing in the scent of Dwayne left from the times he laid down here with you. Unfortunately, that proved to be a bad move, because now you were thinking about Dwayne in bed with you doing other things besides sleeping. When you finally felt yourself drifting off to sleep, dirty images of Dwayne filled your head, ready to give you dreams that were more than just sweet~

Goddamn Billy Wirth and his stupid, sexy body.

Tag List: @britany1997 @6lostgirl6 @american-idiot-jpg @herthinkersmanana

#the lost boys #tlb #dwayne the lost boys #dwayne x reader #ao3 fic #my fic

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andreal831 · 1 month

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I don’t absolutely despise klaroline, although I definitely do not like them either, but one of the most stupid things in the entirety of the originals is Klaus flirting with Caroline while Hayley and hope is abducted. Would you consider this to be a writing mistake or just Klaus being Klaus? I’ve always wondered if he focused more on finding them if he’d of been able to save Hayley in time.

I've made an entire tik tok about this because I despised this episode since the first time I saw it. I laid out all of the dumb decisions Klaus made in the episode in the tik tok as well as a lengthy caption. You can see that here.

Klaus in Season 5 is terribly written. He may not be my favorite character and I don't like klaroline but everything about him and them in Season 5 was wrong.

Starting with Rebekah calling Caroline to go find Klaus. That made no sense. Why wouldn't Freya or Marcel go find him. They are his family. Marcel has known him for 200 years. It's not like Rebekah thought he wouldn't harm her, he had nearly killed Caroline multiple times. Marcel was upgraded, he would have been the best choice to go and talk some sense into Klaus. Or Freya who could have gone and yelled at him for abandoning Hope.

Just the fact that Klaus was ignoring Hope for five years made no sense to me. I get he was terrified that she would hate him after what she saw, but the end of Season 3 and through Season 4, we began to see a version of Klaus that was actually putting Hope's needs first. This abandonment was a complete regression back to his Season 2 narcissism. Also, Hope not continuing to astral project to find him made no sense. She is a powerful witch, if Caroline could track him down, so could Hope.

Now onto the day of the event.

My biggest gripe is that they are literally driving everywhere. Klaus is the fastest being, why is he taking an SUV that can go max 180 mph? Why did they stop at a rest stop to get coffee? Exhaustion doesn't affect them that way. They are literally flirting and joking around as Hope and Hayley are missing. Sure at this point they may not have realized how serious it was, but Klaus would never have allowed himself to be distracted like that. It was bad writing purely for ratings.

Klaus would rip apart the world to save both Hayley and Hope. Showing him doing anything less is a disservice to his character.

Good writing, writing that is true to Klaus' character would have shown him turning into a wolf to track Hope down. Ansel tells Klaus in Season 2 that he was drawn to Klaus as a child and even to Hope because wolves are drawn to their family. It would have been so satisfying to finally watch Klaus at one with his wolf side in order to find Hope.

It also was so out of character to see Klaus walking slowly to the house. Hayley was actively having her wolf side suppressed and fighting Greta. Klaus would have heard this from miles away and sped as fast as possible to the house. Instead we see him walking at a slow human speed. Caroline is also easily snuck up on by Elijah and Klaus doesn't immediately snap his neck? True-to-character Klaus would have ripped out Elijah's heart to save Hope and Hayley. After all, Elijah would have been fine.

Very little of Season 5 was not just poor writing. There were scenes and plot points that directly contradict established canon. The reason the writing was so bad is because the writers were killing Hayley, Elijah, and Klaus off no matter what. Hayley's death was 1000% preventable. Hayley was a hybrid and a member of the strongest family but was somehow killed by a 100 year old vamp? Say what you will about Klaus, but Klaus definitely would have saved her no matter what. She never should have died but Julie wanted Legacies to have an orphaned Hope and didn't care to make the writing good.

Shameless plug: If you want to read how I would rewrite Season 5 to make more sense, check out my story, Don't It Just Break Your Heart, on AO3 and Wattpad.

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saltygilmores · 4 months

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THOUGHTS WHILE WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS: S3/EP4/ONE’S GOT CLASS THE OTHER ONE DYES (PART 5)

Parts 1-4 and all other episodes are linked in my pinned post.

OMG. PHRASING, LUCAS. PHRASING!! IT'S OKAY EVERYBODY! HE MEANT METAPHORICALLY, PEOPLE.

I mean, your affair with Dean Forrester should already have you on some kind of registry.

Luke is giddy with delight over Lorelai's humilation at the school and is giggling up a storm, a gigglestorm the likes of which I've never heard before from him. Let's alll point and laugh at Lorelai! It's fun.

The KarenDebbies are descending upon us. I can't wait to hear Lorelai say the word "condoms"!

I've never seen him this happy before?

Sadly with no context I wouldn't be able to tell if this was 2023 or 2002. Karens: Why were you discussing your pregnancy, why didn't you change the subject? Lorelai: I tried but they kept coming at me like I was poland and they were Nazis. Urrrp.

In my unrated Gilmore Girls rewrite titled The Hollow, I promise to rewrite this episode so that we see Lorelai throwing condoms at high school students.

Well as long it's just a banana and you don't bring Dean for the subject of your demonstration. KarenDebbie: What kind of mother are you?! Lorelai: The kind that doesn't just gloss over uncomfortable topics!

My ass you don't. She spends a good 75% of season 3 moving heaven and earth to interfere in Jess and Rory's relationship and cockblocking them to make sure these two legal adults don't fuck each other instead of giving Rory any sort of useful information about sex and you should know better than anyone that that's a solid recipe for teen pregnancy, Miss GlossyPants. Speaking of. Guess who else is about to get a fumbling attempt at Awkward Parental Sex Talk? This li'l guy.

We don't want Shane to get pregnant. It would make her already tragic impending death even more tragic.

So, what's up with Luke's apartment? There's a guitar, bongos, and maracas (plus a sign he stole from a bus stop). Does he have a secret past in some kind of salsa band?

Luke referring to a human being as something you can "stash in a closet" like an old box of Monopoly is fucking hilarious. The delivery is also very "Jess are you a gigolo?" and "What are you, a drug dealer now?" Like he knows it's a ridiculous question but he's also mildly concerned that the answer is going to be Yes. And now, for all time favorite exchange in the entire Gilly Girls World:

Jess and Rory are cool and all. But Luke and Jess are it for me. These two are the reason I keep watching. Their dynamic is so perfect and things were never the same after Milo left, not only because of the breakup of Literati but because I desperately miss these two guys playing off each other.

I don't know. I feel like Shane wouldn't give a flying cupcake about getting caught. She had no problem repeatedly barging into the diner to hump Jess' leg while Luke and Lorelai were watching and Luke had to part them like Moses parting the sea to wait tables, and she had no problem playing tonsil hockey with Jess against a tree for hours in view of hundreds of people. More evidence that this little dude is lying and that Closet Girl wasn't actually Shane.

We know, Jesstopher. We know. You little freakazoid.

Amen, brother.

Bolt the doors Lucas he's gonna run! Luke should be pulling a Lorelai and throwing bags of condoms at Jess. Stars Hollow called an emergency town meeting after he drew on a sidewalk with chalk. I can't imagine the fate of both Jess and Luke if it were discovered that Jess planted his demon seed in anyone but especially precious Rory.

I love it when Luke tells Jess to shut up. Fantastic stuff. Luke: If you care about this Shane girl you have to treat her better. Jess: I don't care about her. I don't know her last name. She mentioned it once, didn't stick. We're just "hangin out." Staaahp. Jess is so deliciously blunt and nonchalant about her. Anyone fellow Millenials here? Does anyone else remember that in high school in the late 90's and early 2000's "hooking up" (or in Jess' case, "hanging out") meant literally anything you wanted it to mean and so one of your friends could say "I hooked up with Jason last night" but that could mean they either made out for a few minutes or they were full on bumping uglies or something in between and you often had to ask uncomfortable questions. It was a very confusing time. It kept us all on our toes.

Luke, you have a pair of eyes. You've seen what they do in your diner. There should not exist any doubt that they're not convening in your apartment to play checkers.

I'm telling you, the dynamic of the entire Danes-Mariano family is so complex and interesting and I would twist my nipple for this show to delve into it as much as humanly possible at the expense of pushing Rory and Lorelai to the side (Lorelai off a cliff). I've hit the ceiling for screen shots here on Tumblr.com so here's the last three minutes of the episode: Luke: You need to find a girl you actually care about. Jess: Yah like it's that easy. Luke: Ya huh it's that easy if you try Jess: The girls I like don't give a damn about me. I'm not just gonna sit around hoping they change their minds and notice me, unlike SOME PEOPLE. Luke: Da fuq does that mean Jess: ya fixed any neighbor's porshes *porches lately? Luke: Shut up Jess: I've got a little self esteem Luke: Shut up Jess: Gotta go, Shane's horny again Well, that attempt at the Birds and Bees talk certainly went off the rails. Luke was able to impart to Jess that teenage boys have raging hormones and they tend to like girls and Jess don't be an idiot. It's okay Luke, at least you tried.

#gilmore girls #luke danes #jess mariano #lorelai gilmore #denise rewatches gilmore girls #gilmore girls season 3 #OGCTOOD #family dynamics #birds and bees #condoms on bananas

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thebrandywine · 18 days

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20 Questions for Fic Authors

@catgirladjacent tagged me! and i like to infodump! let's go!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

97 including some that are under pseuds, though I did orphan a few once I started fixating on Resident Evil more fully. I was embarrassed lmao

2. What is your AO3 wordcount?

865,796 o__o

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Resident Evil exclusively now!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

don't worry about this one cuz it's under a pseud lol

[every picture tells a story], 387 kudos

[lantern], 376 kudos

broken machine, 356 kudos

[the quality of mercy], 332 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments?

I do!!! more often than not it's just with some emojis now lol but i relish and treasure every single comment i get

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

oh, this one has yet to be published :) don't worry! <3

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

hmm... probably Two Cakes (which is coming out this month)? made me feel all sappy at least :]

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not now, but I definitely got some hateful comments on things when i was a lot younger-- mostly people complaining that i was a bad writer or that i should delete (which i did, so they got their wish lol). now if anything i mostly get people who comment on my stuff to kind of pressure me to update XYZ (the nivannedy catboy fic is notorious for this, which is why i haven't been working on it very much lately). the block button is my friend tho <3

9. Do you write smut? If so, which kind?

yeah :)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest crossover you’ve ever written?

Nope!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

i think someone wanted to at one point and then never did lol

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

i've talked with some people about this before but we've never gotten around to it :P

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

i love chreon but there's just SOMETHING about nivannedy---

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

the lethan re7/re8 rewrite. i really want to keep working on them but i just have so much more on my plate that i keep pushing it off, especially when it'll require the research of rewatching playthroughs a few times to reimaging the plot points. maybe one day tho!!

16. What are your writing strengths?

i've been told that my dialog is good which makes me happy because there are a few fics where i'm actually really proud of it :3

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

describing things, especially people! for some reason i always feel like it breaks the flow so i just... am like "there is a man. anyway--" sorry readers but it's your job to imagine him skjfnskdnf

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i only speak english and i'm also VERY american. i don't personally want to mess around with that because it would be google translate type shit and that's just sad imo :/ so since i don't know enough i will abstain

19. First fandom you wrote for?

pokemon!!!!!!!!! i literally found THE first fic i ever wrote which would have been somewhere between third and fifth grade because i PRINTED IT and DREW PICTURES. it is called The Mysterious Manaphy and makes no sense. i read it aloud to my partner and they howled. yeah, it was just that good

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

listen, i love broken machine, but dualities has seriously taken the cake!!!!!!!!!

thank you for tagging me claire :3 i tag @flurrin @fonulyn and @silvercap!!!

#.ask

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writtenonreceipts · 1 year

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Am I slightly evil? Yes. But that’s besides the point. I would love a what if Aelin was actually pregnant in Empire of Storms. DRAMA! ANGST! OH NO MAEVE! 🫣 do ur worst. Literally.

Thanks for sending this in!! <3 It's been a while since I read the book, lol. My reread came to a screeching halt a little while ago. SO! Some points will not occur as they did in the book because i have no memory. Anyways...canon au/divergence. Partial EOS/KOA rewrite.

find my other works here

READ ME--Warnings: torture, brief allusion to sexual assault, pain, violence, discussion of miscarriage and death. ANGST. you've been warned. Maybe happy ending???

~6.4k words

.*.*.*.*.

Until the Bitter End of Eternity

First, there was darkness. Thick and heavy and enough to make the entire world disappear. It was a darkness that slipped not just across her eyes but into her mind. Even when she tried, she couldn’t remember what day break looked like. She couldn’t remember the way the sun scraped over the Staghorns or gleamed across the sea. She couldn’t remember the shade of green that soothed her soul.

Second, there was pain. Hot as it burned on skin and bore through flesh and into bone. And she knew her pain. Her life was a continuous cycle of torture, of broken bones and skin. She had endured it all over and over. But this…this was a fresh hell.

Third, there was terror. Sharp in the way it drilled one thought repeatedly over and over into her head. Dry in the way that it leeched everything else from her.

Aelin had no choice but to feel each of these things. She had no choice but to let each thought and each feeling and each idea encompass her. Because it meant that she was alive. And to be alive was to be one step closer to returning to her mate (her mate, was that even possible?) and to be alive meant that the little flutter deep in her belly was real.

Perhaps she should regret not telling him. Instead, she'd told Lysandra. Begged Lysandra for help, for support, for confirmation. And her friend had assured her it would be fine. Assured her she was strong enough. Assured her that she would support Aelin if a certain choice needed to be made.

She should regret not having one more moment with Rowan, one last taste of hope that they could be together. A family.

"Well, well," a lilting voice permeated the darkness. And even when Aelin opened her eyes, even when she tried to seek out the light, there was nothing. "Niece, I thought you were stronger than this. But your fear. My, my. How did you ever gain a following? You're so close to falling apart, aren't you?"

Aelin dragged in a breath, the tang of iron and mold coating her tongue and burrowing in her lungs. A chill ran across her limbs, licking up any remnant of sweat. It took far too long to remember the coffin. She was trapped. Entombed. Locked away to be be saved for death. Maybe she’d pushed it too far back in her mind. Maybe she’d tried to give herself some sort of protection.

But it came racing back now in the desire to reach out and throttle that cruel little voice that echoed through the silence.

"No witty words? Fireheart?"

Bile rose in Aelin’s throat as the moniker crossed Maeve's lips. The cruel fae queen was trying to rile her up, trying to make Aelin betray herself. She swallowed the acid down.

Breathe, she thought. Just breathe.

"Don't worry,” Maeve continued, "I'll be gentle. For now."

And that cruel fae queen began the torture she’d always promised.

...

The coffin was cold. Impenetrable. And Aelin was acutely aware of the empty recesses to her magic.

It made her feel lost, distant, utterly remote from everything and anything. As a child and into her young adult years, she'd repressed her magic so much that she'd convinced herself she'd never had it. She’d convinced herself that it was a mere fantasy made up by a poor little girl struggling with reality. But after learning what it was and how to control it, she'd truly understood what it meant to be that wildfire she was so often called.

For a wildfire was more than just a force to be reckoned with.

And now, encased in iron and darkness, her skin burned in desperation. She needed to burn. She needed to feel again.

She didn't know how long she remained in that coffin. It could have been hours; it could have been days. It could have been millennia.

And the one thing that should have been a comfort, that small flutter of life in her womb, was only another cruel thing to use against her. Because just by existing, that life was the cruelest torture the gods had given her.

Aelin managed to brush her hand over her belly. Given the limited space of the coffin, it was a bit awkward, but it comforted her. It gave her just a little bit of hope, even for just the bare moment she gave herself. She had to be careful. She couldn’t let Maeve know. She couldn’t let her guards know.

As soon as they did, they would use it against her. And she couldn't bear what that would entail.

After what felt like years locked away with her own mind, there was finally the sound of rattling chains and grating stone. And then a strike of light fell across her face making her flinch. It had been so long since she'd been touched by light. So long since she'd felt it so freely on her skin. She didn't like it. She didn't trust it.

The coffin opened with a heavy groan and cool air rushed over Aelin, brushing her limbs, her face.

It tasted like salt and wood and death.

She didn't have time to adjust to it when large, calloused hands took hold and yanked her from the coffin. Aelin couldn’t keep her feet as she was set on the ground. She tried. She tried to hold onto that pride that had once so securely owned her. She tried to find that fire that once burned within her. She tried. But it wasn't enough.

Her feet slid on cold marble and her body fell against the outside of the iron coffin. She didn't have time to relax against it though. The cruel hands were back, digging into the flesh of her arms and forcing her to her feet.

Aelin bit back a moan of pain at being forced to move, to walk. She hadn’t been able to stretch within the coffin and her body had grown so used to not moving that even this motion nearly sent her to her knees.

But the male beside her wouldn't let her fall. He was quiet with his harsh eyes and beautiful face turned forward. The only acknowledgment she had that he was aware of her was the way his fingers clung to her skin.

She looked there, his tanned skin a contrast to her own. She could already see the bruises that would come from this. She could already taste the blood that would coat her tongue when Maeve would inevitably have him beat her.

Once she might have tried to tease him. Endovier hadn't broken her, Arobynn hadn’t either. Would she really allow Maeve the dishonor? The little flutter of life in her belly was all the answer she needed.

No. Aelin wouldn't be broken not for the possibility of hope and the image of a boy with his father's pine green eyes. Or maybe a girl with long silver hair that would dance among the forest with flowers in her hands.

What little strength she had went to shielding her stomach and protecting the innocent life. There was no guarantee that this would work for long, no promise that she’d carry to term, not with what she'd already been through and would continue to suffer.

It would take a miracle. And Aelin was sure she’d used all hers up.

Maeve would drag her within an inch of her life. And this little soul would face it too. Bile rose in Aelin’s throat as she thought about that.

The male beside her yanked Aelin to a stop just before the great doors that would lead to Maeve's throne room.

"The queen desires an audience," the male said, his curling blonde hair falling into his eyes. Aelin thought she recognized him as one of Rowan's Cadre.

She met his gaze and lifted her chin, ready to accept her fate.

...

The blood on her lips never stayed dry for long.

Even in her dreams, when she managed to sleep, Aelin was covered in red. It dibbled between her teeth, stained her gums, tainted her lips. Iron and salt were her only companion.

Her dreams never varied.

They were filled with images of forests wide and free. They sang of vast skies and warm burning suns. They hummed with magic that kissed her skin. But most importantly there was Rowan.

Rowan with his commanding presence. Rowan with his cold eyes and hard demeanor. Rowan who was her salvation and hope. Rowan who she could never quite keep close enough. No matter how she tried to chase after, to reach him, it was never enough. He would remain just out of her grasp and Aelin would be alone until her mind spiraled to the edge of an abyss of black.

Alone.

And then she would wake. And Maeve would beat and abuse her again. Again. Again.

Each time she would tell Aelin to give up, to release her magic, to allow Maeve access to her mind. Maeve sought to destroy her and Aelins will was chipped away.

Everyday Aelin would hold on though. She would think about that life within her, that perfect innocent life that she would hold onto. That life that would be a perfect mix of her and Rowan. That life that would live to know peace and hope.

So when the whips came out and the chains rattled on the stone floor, Aelin let her mind return to the darkest shadows of her subconscious that had given birth to Celaena. And as Cairn whispered threats into her ear and his hand were rough and cruel upon her skin, Aelin remembered where she had been and how far she had come.

Even as leather bit into her back and ruined the tattoos that marked her life—Aelin’s mind stayed locked.

Even when she would let out the inevitable scream—Aelin’s heart stayed strong.

Even when her nails tore and tears streamed—Aelin’s will stayed firm.

And when her body was torn and bruised and she returned to the coffin that wouldn't let her die, Aelin found herself staring at that male who led her to her daily torture. He was harsh and cruel and vile. The only thing she could think was that she would delight to see his blood on her hands.

When he didn’t whip her, Cairn would take a knife to her skin and carve into her flesh. Often it was useless strikes and cuts. Other times there were words. Aelin would watch the blood drip down her skin and pool on the marble of the throne room. It was strange seeing such things etched into her skin. Strange to have them burned into her eyes. Stranger still to feel the way the blood oozed in tracks along her arms. Her legs. Her back.

It was wicked and cruel and the male delighted in it.

Every time he drew blood his lips were at her ear. Do you like that, little princess? When her breath would stutter in her lungs he would draw a finger along her jaw. Let me hear you beg, bitch.

Maeve would always heal her though. She took away the marks at the end of a week. What fun was it when the subject of your ire was too cut up to feel anything?

Still. Aelin didn’t beg. She didn’t plead. She only stared forward at the male across the hall who brought her here on his queen’s order.

Fenrys never did speak to her. Only blink. Only blink and offer the barest hints of pressure as his fingers left her skin and delivered her to her prison once again.

...

She remembered the first time she wanted to die.

It was when she was in Arobynn's care. He had shown her how to slit a man's throat from a myriad of positions. This being when she was trapped beneath him. His hands would wander and he’d carefully arrange her just the way he wanted.

He taught her the best way to hold the knife. The best angle to cut. He called her his good girl and praised the chaos she would cause. And then he threw her to the wolves.

As she stared into Maeve’s eyes one day she imagined she could see Arobynn there. The cold delight, the deadly precision, the lack of empathy and care.

Aelin was in a mask of iron. A headpiece that covered her face so only her eyes could see slits of light and color. There was a mouthpiece she was forced to clamp down on with spikes that tore her tongue and the soft flesh of her cheeks and gums. Iron and faebane forged together that caused tears and blood to roll down her face.

Aelin didn't know how long she'd been held. She didn't know how long she'd been directing her magic to protect her baby. From what she could tell there'd been no growth. She was sick often enough that maybe, maybe, maybe it was okay. But she could have lost it and would never know what had finally done it. Only that she hadn't been strong enough.

She was strung up in chains and the iron mask deep in the recesses of Maeve’s palace. Had been for long enough that she stank of piss and vomit. She hadn’t been able to help either occurrence.

As her mind wandered from consciousness to dreams, she fought to focus on something other than the darkness, the pain, the terror. She tried to find something to hold onto. When she tried to think of the babe—it nearly sent her into hysterics. After all, she likely killed the child by submitting to this torture. She wasn’t strong enough to hold off the true pain and agony. She couldn’t protect herself so how, how could she protect that innocent life?

She came to herself as the door of her cell eased open. Aelin snapped to attention, ignoring the pain that tore through her body.

In the dull light from behind the door she could make out the shape of a male. Aelin pulled away even as the brackets around her wrists dug into the worn and tender flesh.

It had to be Cairn. She knew it did. He’d told her many times over that one of these days he’d come to her. He’d break her. He’d see her on her back as he—

“Aelin.”

A soft voice. Far kinder than what she’d expected.

Aelin blinked through tears and the fog surrounding her mind. Through the slits of the mask she could make out the face of Fenrys Moonbeam.

“We don’t have time,” he murmured.

His hands went to the chains at her wrists, making quick work of the locks. As the chains fell away, Aelin collapsed forward. Fenrys caught her easily, his strong arms supporting her as he took care of the chains at her ankles.

“I can’t get the mask,” he said, “not strong enough. Aelin. Look at me.”

A shudder of pain rippled through her. Her tongue cut on one of the spikes in her mouth and blood trickled down her throat. She gagged.

“Aelin,” Fenrys said again. “You have to run. I can get you to the woods but from there you’re on your own. Do you hear me? There is only so long she will be distracted.”

His words slowly pieced together in her mind. Run. Escape. Freedom.

A hand dropped to her abdomen. She couldn’t help it. She wouldn’t apologize for it. And maybe, maybe there was something there.

“Run.” she managed to spit through the iron gag in her mouth the rutted mask around her.

Fenrys wasted no time in leading her through the dungeons.

He supported most of her weight even when she came to herself. They were practically flying down different pathways and channels. Soon, the dank stench of excrement and blood dissipated and was replaced by something sweeter, fresher.

“Almost there,” Fenrys murmured into her ear.

Aelin barely managed a hum in response. She was too busy trying to find one more ounce of strength somewhere in her bones.

A light appeared at the end of the corridor they were moving down. So small, Aelin almost missed it. But the faster Fenrys moved the closer the light came. It was real. So real that in a few hundred yards they came to a grate that led out into freedom.

Fenrys ushed Aelin through the bars but didn’t follow. His fae eyes gleamed in the shadows and she could feel a preternatural power roll off of him.

“Run straight to the trees,” Fenrys told her. “Don’t stop. You cannot stop. You cannot give up. Not yet. He’ll find you; do you understand? He will find you.”

Rowan. She thought. She could only blink her response before Fenrys was shoving her out into the daylight.

It was so different from what she remembered. It wasn’t silent or still. Rather, there was a wind rustling in the trees, a bird in the distance. She could feel cold moss beneath her toes and a dampness in the air of a coming rain.

It was clean and pure and—

Run.

Her knees buckled at the first step. Her legs forgot that they knew this motion. She tried again with another step. Another. Another. Step upon step upon step that would take her directly into the trees.

Her bare feet dug into the detritus of the forest floor. Leave and sticks and dirt kicked up beneath her frantic scrambles. It didn’t help that her vision was so limited with the mask. She could hardly see one step in front of her, let alone two.

It was taking her too long to move. She knew it. She could feel a shift in the air.

What had Fenrys done to provide a distraction? Had anyone else helped him? She had no idea what would have been enough to drag Maeve away from the castle, away from Aelin when she was so close to breaking.

Somewhere behind her, she heard a scream. A roar, really. Something loud and violent that send a shudder through the forest.

Cairn. It had to be. She, his little play thing, was gone. He would come find her, she knew he would.

Aelin pushed herself forward. A tree nearly tossed her off balance but she kept moving. Quicker now. One step in front of the other as her knees picked up. There were far too many brambles and roots to keep her trajectory straight, but she didn’t stop.

She couldn’t stop. Not with one hand cradling her stomach that she swore was rounded just a bit. She hadn’t completely lost her mind, had she?

She couldn’t stop as her senses filled with clean air and fresh upturned earth. All around her, the forest was coming alive with fluttering wings and scampering paws. This was where she belonged, wasn’t it? Wild and free.

She ran.

She ran until her body was begging for relief. Until she could feel the wounds along her body burst and new blood rolled down her frame. Maeve hadn’t healed her for this week yet.

The blood would make it easier for Cairn to track. It would be easier for him to hunt her down and finish what he’d started.

Each of her nerve endings lit up as though they were on fire. All across her body, she felt as though she were disintegrating back into that pathetic ball of utter shame. She couldn’t even run properly let alone get herself to freedom without help. She was—

There was a shift in the air.

It was sudden and stark on her skin. She felt as though she’d stepped into a wall of ice as a chill wrapped around her, curling into every curve and angle of her body. She knew that feeling. She had felt it on many occasions before. Back when she’d been a flickering flame on the verge of burnout and he’d been there to ground her.

Aelin gasped for air desperate for a taste of the world around her.

Rowan. Pine and snow and sweet sweet relief. Rowan. Rowan. Rowan. Aelin stumbled in her frantic run. She could smell him. He was so close she could feel him and his strength and as desperation rolled through her, Aelin found her magic slowly unfurling. It quivered within her as it slowly rolled forth.

Rowan.

Rowan

Rowan.

She kept running. Running until she heard something in the trees around her. Running until she could smell magic in the air. Running until she burst into a clearing, stumbling to her knees. All the strength she’d put forth was eaten up. Her body so tired, her mind so numb. She didn’t know if she could go any further. But she could feel him, so immersive and familiar.

Aelin.

Her name whispered through the trees, light and cool.

Aelin,

Her name rang with desperation as it shuddered among the surrounding trees.

“Aelin!”

Her name was fierce and strong coming from the one person she'd thought about most in the last few months. Aelin managed to look up as Rowan fell to the ground in front of her. Even on his knees, he was massive. His broad frame blocked out anything from view as his magic pulsed between them.

“Aelin,” he whispered. Strong arms came around her as though they could offer security or protection.

Aelin shuddered in Rowan’s grasp as she tried to pull away.

“Off. Off. Take it off.” She demanded. Her fingers scrabbled at the metal mask over her face. Blood dribbled from the corners of her mouth and pain landed through her, but she didn't care. All she cared about was getting that damned mask off.

“It’s alright, Fireheart,” Rowan murmured. “Look at me. Look at me, love.”

In her frantic scrambling she’d twisted in his grasp and was now facing him. His green eyes found hers and for the first time in so many months, Aelin could breathe.

“Rowan,” she gasped. The metal mouthpiece scraped against her tender skin. All she cared about was Rowan before her.

His hands were gentle as they ran along the seam of the mask and Aelin’s neck. He kept talking to her in a mix of the old language and common tongue. She didn’t know what he was saying—couldn’t focus on anything but his hands—but it was the soothing lilt of his voice that kept her grounded.

She didn't know how long it took but soon the metal fell free and she could feel cool air on her face and tears tracked down her face.

A sob escaped her as she slumped against Rowan. His arms tightened around her as he murmured sweet assurances in her ear.

The relief didn’t last long.

Not as a new figure emerged from the trees. Aelin didn’t have to see his face to know who it was. She could smell her own blood on the long blade in his grasp.

Aelin dug her fingers into Rowan’s arm, the hard muscle unyielding as he slowly shifted her away from Cairn.

“Two little lambs,” Cairn crooned, “all ready for the slaughter.”

…

Rowan Whitethorn was a warrior. Three hundred years of life on this earth had turned him from a simple boy in his father’s land to a fae that yearned for the hunt.

He was not afraid of it. Nor was he averse to it. He respected the way of war and the blood that would be shed.

At least until this very moment.

Aelin shuddered in his grasp as she flinched away from the sight of Cairn. Aelin who was strong and capable and the most powerful creature he’d known shuddered. Rowan felt his body tense as he stood, gently leaving Aelin kneeling on the ground.

This male had touched her, had hurt her. And he was going to regret it.

“Cairn,” Rowan growled.

Magic thrummed in his bones and sang through his blood until it was all around him. He could feel power rising up from the deepest wells of his being, the very places he swore he would never touch.

Cain on cocked his head to the side as a predatory smile stretched across his mouth. “I think I’ll enjoy killing you, Whitethorn. And when my hands are covered in your blood I’ll take your little bitch and fu—”

Rowan attacked.

He drew the sword strapped to his back and a smaller knife strapped to his side and burned. His ice magic felt hot at it wrapped around him, urging him on. In a scant few steps, he was lunging for Cairn.

The other male hadn’t been expecting this. He fell back one step but it was all Rowan needed. He went for the exposed belly, swiping with his dagger. Cairn barely dodged and retaliated by drawing a knee up. Rowan threw him back with an icy snap of wind. The force of it threw Ciarn against a tree.

A resounding crack echoed through the forest as Rowan stalked forward.

Cairn struggled against the magic that held him. Surprise was written clear on his face. The fool either hadn’t remembered what Rowan was capable of or thought his pathetic alliance with Maeve would somehow save him.

Rowan would relish in the scent of blood that day.

…

Aelin didn't know how long it took or how it actually happened, but soon she was gathered in Rowans arms and he was running with her through the forest.

She could still smell the stench of fire and burning flesh on the air. She could still see the way Rowan moved towards Cairn with his weapons raised. She could still hear the last of Cairn’s screams on the wind.

Rowan had held nothing back in his attack. He’d taken his time to carve into Cairn’s flesh, to draw out as much pain and misery as he could.

Aelin could only watch. Watch and thank the gods for what Rowan was capable of.

Now, they eventually came to where Aelin’s growing army was camped, but she could hardly notice or care about the numbers that were gathering. All she could do was fall against Rowans chest and let him watch over her.

Even when Lysandra and Elide came to help bath and dress and treat the wounds that marred her skin. It was hard to do while stool as sentinel growling when anyone moved too close or too quick.

But Aelin couldn't bring herself to really notice or care. Not when Elide’s gentle fingers wove her damp hair into a braid and Lysandra rubbed oils and lotion into Aelin’s raw skin.

She couldn't hold back the flinch when Lysandra brushed her belly as she pulled a tunic over Aelin’s head. Lysandra froze remembering that night on the ship when Aelin told her she was with child.

"Aelin," Lysandra whispered. She hovered close, eyes darting to where Rowan glowered.

"What?" He demanded. "Is something wrong? Do we need Yrene?"

Aelin squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe it was better if Yrene came to tell her that her worst fears had been realized. But she couldn't bring herself to say the words. Even as Rowan's magic enveloped her, Aelin couldn't look at him.

"Sleep," she rasped. "I just want to sleep."

Maybe she'd be able to disappear into the darkness that had been her only companion. Maybe she'd be able to forget for one moment—

In an instant both Lysandra and Elide were gone and she was back in Rowan's arms. His nose was buried in her neck, arms tight around her.

"You're safe, Fireheart, " he told her. "I promise. You can rest now. Put down your magic, love. It's been flaring for too long now."

Aelin buried her fingers in his tunic until she found his bare flesh and she could feel him beneath her. Was she still flaring her magic? She'd grown so accustomed to holding that shield up around herself that it was second nature even in her exhausted state.

“Rowan,” she whispered, his name a balm against her lips. “I’m sorry.”

He held her tighter against his chest. “For what?”

But she was already asleep.

…

There were hands digging into her skin. Determined hands that picked and prodded as they tore her apart. They ripped at the thin nightgown she wore even as she tried to pull and tug away. But no matter what she did, there was no escape.

One hand went to her throat, fingers tightening until she was struggling for breath. The other hand flexed across her stomach, the touch rough and cold.

“I’ll make you scream,” a voice said. It didn’t take long for her to place that cold, cruel voice. “And then you’ll kneel before me and beg for mercy.”

Aelin’s own scream finally pulled her from the nightmare. She thrashed wildly, desperate to get away from Cairn’s horrific torture.

“Aelin, Aelin.” Another voice, different. A new set of hands came over her, these careful in the way they held her. “Fireheart, you’re safe.”

A snarl tore from her lips, she couldn’t help it. All she could hear was Cairn’s laugh and feel the way his knife cut her skin. She needed to get away. She could focus on nothing other than the how small this tent space and how best she could escape it.

“She needs to calm down, Prince,” a soft voice said from her left, “for her own safety.”

Aelin whirled toward the voice just as a pair of hands went to her waist, firm as they tried to hold her still. They were too close to her belly that Aelin couldn’t help the defensive flare that rose within her. Her instincts took over as she grabbed one of the hands and twisted it away. A flicker of fire raced from her fingers to singe her captor.

They grunted but held on tighter. Ice met her fire and in a low hiss, the small flames burned out.

Blinking rapidly, Aelin looked up to meet the pine green eyes of Rowan.

“Rowan,” she whispered. Her flames disappeared as she took him in.

Yes. This was right. He had come for her. He had held her. He had decimated Cairn as though it were his right.

“Aelin.” Rowan stared at her unblinking. There was caution in his eyes as he regarded her, as though he were expecting her to lash out and burn him again.

The planes of his face were hard as stone as she took him in. He was ragged with bags under his eyes and stubble on his chin. But it was still Rowan. Her Rowan.

“You found me,” she croaked, her voice broken from the screams. You found us.

She released him, nearly pushing him away as everything came back to her.

Oh to fade back into that darkness that was always so welcoming and good to her. That darkness that she could sink into and let take over. If she could disappear, she could forget. She could forget the pain and the fear. She could forget the whips and the whispers. She could forget that she had certainly destroyed the one bit of happiness that was left for her in this world.

Rowan didn’t move as he watched her. But she did note the way his eyes did finally dip from her face down to her stomach.

No. No. No.

Aelin shrunk away from him. She couldn’t bear to look at him, couldn’t bear to tell him—

She remembered the other body in the tent with them. Aelin turned to see Yrene standing near the closed tent flaps. She had her hair pulled back with a scrap of cloth, her warm brown skin was flushed and the hazel of her eyes was dimmed from the last time Aelin had seen her.

Of course the healer was here. Why wouldn’t she be if Aelin was so broken and torn apart? And if Aelin had killed—

“Aelin,” Yrene said softly. She held out a hand in supplication. “Aelin, it’s alright. You’re still healing. I did the best I could for now.”

Bile rose in Aelin’s throat at the words. Still healing. The best she could. Her fingers wound into the front of her tunic. The walls she’d been trying to keep up were frail and weak. She knew she was hemorrhaging emotions and information directly for Rowan to pick up on but she was so tired.

“Tell me,” Aelin managed to say. She couldn’t finish the thought but when Yrene’s features softened, she knew she’d been understood.

At her back, Aelin could feel Rowan. He didn’t touch her, not yet, but he was there. His strong presence buoyed Aelin up as she waited for Yrene’s answer.

The healer nodded once before managing a smile. “Five months, your majesty. You’re malnourished and need to gain weight, but—as far as I can tell right now—the baby is fine. Small but fine.”

Aelin could only stare as Yrene took her leave and left the tent.

Small but fine. Small but fine. Small but—

“Rowan.” Aelin reached a hand back until she found him. He took her hand in his and pulled her back against his chest, his other arm tentatively wrapping around her. “I thought…I thought I lost it. I thought I wasn’t, that I didn’t—”

Her words were cut off as a sob rose in her throat. When her legs gave out from the exertion of the past five minutes, Rowan was there to catch her. He held her against him as they both sank to the ground, wrapped up in each other as Aelin cried.

Rowan only held her. His face was once against buried in her neck; his lips soft against her skin as he whispered something in the Old Language. She had longed for a moment like this for so long that she didn’t dare move. Instead, she held on to Rowan as her cries continued and eventually her body stopped shaking.

It was then that Rowan lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the small cot she’d been sleeping in earlier. He laid her down gently before curling around her. One of his large hands hovered near her stomach but he didn’t dare touch her.

“You knew,” he said, his voice was rough and worn. “You knew before Maeve took you.”

Aelin closed her eyes to the sight of Rowan’s own mournful gaze. He’d been crying same as her.

With a long breath, she took her hand in his and rested it on that too small swell. As soon as he touched her, Rowan’s body went stiff then slack, then a shudder nearly broke him apart. His hold on her tightened just barely before stopping. Aelin could feel the trembles taking him as he waited. She pressed his hand more firmly against her, holding him there even when he tried to pull away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she bowed her head forward until she rested against his chin. “I’m so sorry, Rowan.”

“I could have lost you,” he said, breath fanning over her hair.

“I didn’t think it was real,” she said. “I told myself it couldn’t be. And then I was in that coffin and I knew. I knew what I had done. And it would be my fault if—if—”

She felt another wave of tears come over her and she stopped talking. Rowan gently cradled her chin in his hand, tilting her face up. She kept her eyes closed, unable to look at him.

“And when C-c, when he started to hurt me,” she continued, forcing the words through trembling lips, “I put all my energy into trying to keep it real, to keep the—the baby safe. But every day I thought that would be it, that would be the time I failed. I’d already failed you, so why not that life?”

Rowan’s hand flexed against her stomach and his lips grazed her forehead, her eyes, her lips.

“You’d never fail me,” he assured her.

Was he not hearing her or was she not speaking clear enough? “I didn’t tell you.”

“You said it yourself; you didn’t think you were,” he said. “And when was the time? Everything happened so fast.”

His voice trailed off and Aelin finally opened her eyes. He was watching her with an unreadable expression. Aelin felt her heart tug. She had imagined him so many times in her captivity. He’d often been a dim voice in the back of her mind, but he’d been there nonetheless. Sometimes it had been him and only him that got her through a day.

“Rowan.” She kept her hand firmly over his where it rested on her belly. “I’m scared. When I close my eyes, I swear I’m back there. And when I sleep? I already nearly burned you. How can I do this? How can I do anything of this? Not just a child, but a war? How can I be strong enough when I’ve fallen apart so many times already?”

"You're not alone, Fireheart," he said. His voice was so soft Alein almost thought she'd imagined it. She watched that hard, carefully crafted expression of his soften. "Not anymore. But if this is too much, if you don't want— "

Aelin squeezed his hand knowing what he was suggesting. He broke off and only watched her.

"I choose this," she said. "And I choose you, Rowan Whitethorn. "

He nodded once at her words before leaning in to kiss her.

His lips were soft against hers. Soft and gentle as he explored her again. And Aelin, desperate for that feeling and taste of home, kissed him back. Rowan rested his hands on her hips as she rolled on top of him.

From there, she quickly took control, her mouth moving urgently against his until she was pulling his lower lip, sucking gently but needful. Her hands were roving his body tugging at Rowans tunic, the buttons of his pants. She needed him. Needed every bit of him that she could get.

And when they came together with careful kisses and whispered promises Aelin found for the first time, she was able to banish that terrible darkness away.

They still had so far to go and so much to learn—but they would get there together.

.*.*.*.*.*.

tags

@morganofthewildfire // @aelinchocolatelover // @sexy-dumpster-fire // @bamchickawowow // @ireallyshouldsleeprn // @courtofjurdan // @sassys-world // @sleeping-and-books // @superspiritfestival // @chieflemming // @julemmaes // @lysandra-ghost-leopard // @firestarsandseneschals // @rapunzel1523 // @booksofthemoon // @fangirlprincess09 // @highladysith // @tillyrubes10 // @bri-loves-sunflowers // @rowaelinismyotp // @sheharahu // @1islessthan3books // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @vanzetanze // @foughtconquered // @acciowests // @cassianscool // @thegreyj // @acourtofsjmtrash // @story-scribbler // @jesstargaryenqueen // @amoretheiwa // @jorjy-jo // @danibutterr @live-the-fangirl-life // @foreverfallingforthestars // @pastasiren // @whimsicallyreading // @infernoqueen19 // @mis-lil-red // @lemonade-coolattas // @scribbled-semantics // @realbookloverproblems // @ghostlyrose2 // @rainbowcheetah512 // @bri-loves-sunflowers // @captain-swan-is-endgame // @mystic-bibliophile // @cretaceous-therapod // @swankii-art-teacher // @thisloveseternal // @gracie-rosee // @bananaanna23 // @goddess-aelin // @liars-lmao // @emily-gsh // @rowaelinrambling // @bookcide // @sideralwriting // @nerdperson524 // @thegloweringcastle //

#rowaelin #aelin galathynius #aelin x rowan #rowan whitethorn #throne of glass #empire of storms #kingdom of ash #angst #major angst #tw: violence #tw: torture #triggers #i warned you #canon divergence

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brunosaderogatory · 1 year

Note

Show me your headcannos about luca and alberto's relationship, please :D

To start it off, let me just say: you should not have asked me this. You opened the biggest can of worms in my tackle box, cause these boys have been marinating in my head for nearly 2 years. This post is gonna be a long one. That being said,

Physical Properties

Their height distance remains relatively the same, with Luca at 5’8 and Alberto at 5’11

Luca’s favorite feature on Alberto is his eyebrows. His freckles take second place (obviously), but he thinks that they compliment his facial structure really well.

Alberto’s favorite feature on Luca is his eyes. He likes how big and round they are, and he can tell when Luca is spacing out, because they drift just a hair apart. No one else notices this detail

I think they would have a size difference too, like, after years of fishing (and living with Massimo), Alberto grows up to be a Bear of a man. Like super strong, Luca loves this, and has absolutely 0 complaints.

Skills/Jobs

Alberto pays for Luca’s tuition through odd jobs in his teens

Luca grows up to be a teacher in Portorosso and talks about Alberto often to his students, and Alberto grows up to be a fisherman with painting as a side hobby/gig, Luca as his #1 muse. Luca will come to him, describing a recent daydream, and Alberto will make it real.

Luca is interested in things like mythology, astronomy, science, etc. and while Alberto barely ever understands it, he always brings/sends newspaper or magazine clippings of these topics like a cat bringing its owner a leaf

Luca and Alberto are both neurodivergent (Luca w the ASD and Alberto w the ADHD) and they are constantly infodumping to eachother (alberto about vespas and basically any automobiles, Luca about the sciences and mythology)

Luca also becomes an author in his later years, writing (usually short) memoirs and each and every. Single. One. is dedicated to Alberto

Alberto plays the mandolin (not the best, but pretty decent) and will rewrite songs to fit him & Luca, and then serenade him later on <3

On that topic, Luca favors the pop genre, while Alberto favors Opera, but they both lose their fucking minds when “50 Special” by Lunapop or “Citta Vuota” by Mina comes on

They also had citta vuota play at their wedding and you cant convince me otherwise

They have godly amounts of communication skills and it makes every one around them jealous

Alberto’s love language is touch and cannot go 15 fucking minutes without laying a hand or brushing against Luca when they’re together. Likewise, Luca’s love language is words of affirmation and will not *stand* for alberto talking bad about himself, which he has a habit of doing, and will crowd him with thoughtful compliments

Luca (teacher) brings up Alberto plenty in his lessons, and his students. fucking. love him. He’s like a celebrity to them

They protect & look after eachother. If someone is going after Alberto with words, Luca steps in. If someone is going after Luca with strength, Alberto steps in.

Timeline/Moments

They met on the 18th of June (the day Luca 2021 came out)

They got married as soon as they could. Like the day it was made legal, Luca was filing a request

They hold true to their promise of exploring the world together, visiting a new country every other year for usually weeks at a time. They’re just out there trying their damnedest to live life to the fullest and experience everything there is to offer

At some point, Alberto realizes he needs glasses 24/7 and Luca forces him to get them, but he refuses to use them because he thinks it ruins his style. Still, to this day, Luca, Giulia, and Massimo are the only ones to see him wear them

Going off of the last one, Luca wears readers. It took a little while for Alberto to get used to, but then they started growing on him

When on dates, Alberto is usually handed the bill, but Luca always pays. he does not understand why they keep on handing Alberto the bill when he has a greater salary, but Alberto does. He does understand

They never adopt kids because it was illegal (and it still is, btw. L Italy) But! They do always have a dog (usually a pit, because they have an affinity for beings that society gives a bad name) and 2 cats.

Luca was originally a dog person and takes forever to warm up to the possibility of having a cat, but Alberto manages to convince him and after a month it’s like. His child.

They basically become the adoptive-grandfathers of the queer teens in Portorosso. just adopting the weirdos and misfits, freaks and geeks left and right.

They get a house together and walking into it is like walking into a museum exhibit. Alberto has a hoarding problem and Luca cannot resist the urge to bring home cool rocks. It’s littered with trinkets from wood carvings to miniature Vespas. The walls are covered in photographs and art. Thanks to Luca’s organization skills, though, it’s actually very well put-together and designed instead of messy. You can also tell a lot about them from their decor, too - everything tells the story

At old age, Luca develops Arthritis (like his grandmother) and becomes a bit dependent, but Alberto never complains about having to help him with even the most simple, mundane tasks

Alberto gets Luca a bright red Vespa as a graduation present (Luca loses his mind, but that should already be understood), and then teaches him how to drive + helps him get his license

Luca is on social media a lot more than Alberto, and lost his fucking mind when he came across the MLM pride flag. Old man ran to Alberto to show him, who had the same exact reaction, cheering like it was the Super Bowl (because it’s Their!!! Colors!!!!)

They never grow up. they stay playful, silly kids together as they age, and even when they’re relationship gets serious, they’re barely rarely serious with each other (if that makes sense)

Before they officially met, Alberto scoped him out. That trail of fallen junk was *planted* I swear. And that scuba suit?? That was planned

Miscellaneous

They never get rid of their clothes from the first summer, even after years of unused and lint collection.

Alberto cooks, Luca tries (and fails. and lies, claiming he *loves* the taste of burnt food and Alberto should suck it up and try it)

Daniela and Alberto start out having a bitter/rocky relationship, but grow to genuinely like each other over time (their shared affection for Luca *definitely* helps this)

Alberto does dumb stuff throughout his youth, like piercing his right ear or getting a permanent tattoo of an upside-down, bright pink triangle, that makes Luca question if he has a death wish, but it grows to be more of a sweet thing over time that they look back on with nostalgia

They go hard with the PDA, but don’t even notice it. Giulia will be begging them to stop and they’ll both be confused like ??? Stop what

I know this is gonna sound insane, but hear me out: Luca, albeit in his old age, as a tumblrina. he’d force Alberto to get it too, and Alberto wouldn’t exactly understand and just treat it like instagram/facebook, posting the “catch of the day” or what recent painting he’s finished. Course, Luca reblogs all his posts and tags it like “husband posting!!! ❤️”

Alberto uses several nicknames for Luca (sweetheart/tesoro, spacey/spaziale, love/amore, dear/caro, etc.), Luca doesnt. Luca tried to, once, but Alberto shut it down, because he loves the way Luca says his name and doesn’t want it replaced with anything else

Alberto has mild dyslexia & severe dysgraphia (formed by trauma. Thanks, dad), and Luca will often read to him, help him write, etc.

Alberto is a hopeless romantic and absolutely spoils Luca rotten for any other man.

They go on dates. Like a lot. Especially ones at night, out to sea.

They were each others firsts, for everything. First friend, first lover, first kiss, etc.

Luca likes to jokingly call Alberto “Giralamo” just to keep him on his toes, until Alberto took the joke too far and legally changed his name to have it be is middle name

Ok that note, “What’s wrong with you, stupido?” And “Piacere, Giralamo Trombetta” become less personal/emotional phrases, and then into jokes that they use to embarrass eachother, before circling back to being really personal + emotional again

(Context: Italians have a tradition of embarrassing the hell out of your friends/family members at graduation) Alberto showed up to Luca (and Giulia’s!) graduation event in full drag + kissed him in front of. very. *very* many people.

During their teen years, Alberto would send Luca relatively-saucy photos of himself (like flexing + kissing his biceps. or shirtless mirror pics. that kind of stuff). worst part is, it would work + Luca would be flustered/enamored for the next week

Alberto tries out pickup lines & hits on Luca a *lot* and they’re mostly horrifically cringy, but Luca loves his dork boyfriend and blushes at them anyway

Luca writes love notes to Alberto, leaving them around in places he know’s he’ll find, and Alberto does the same, but with doodles and pictures

Luca repeats “Piacere, Giralamo Trombetta” to himself in Genova, along with the hand motions, as a stim. you cannot convince me otherwise

Alberto & Lorenzo formed a nephew-uncle relationship, and then Alberto started dating Luca. So that worked out

They cut and do each other’s hair instead of going to the barber because they’re both picky about their style and the hair-turning-into-fins thing just makes it a hassle

THEY ARE MASC 4 MASC. neither one is hypermasc, BUT THEY ARE STILL MASC NONETHELESS

This shouldn’t need to be said, but they help each other out with mental problems. Luca helps by loving Alberto through each and every one of his mistakes, by being patient & caring & giving constant praise & fighting back when he starts to get self deprecative. Luca helps Alberto build back his self esteem & will to self-preserve. Alberto helps Luca by supporting him when he gets paranoid about current events, or what might happen in the future, or what has happened in the past. Alberto helps calm him down and think rationally (surprising, for a guy like him), instead of fueling his anxieties

They are only “out” to a certain few, and a good number of those few don’t even live in Portorosso as adults. The rest just have to figure it out, and you think it would be easy, seeing two men living together with 3 pets, not a woman in sight, spotting the eccentricities beaming at you from miles away, but it’s not (until they get married, obv, but that’s much later on)

They both get SUUPER giddy over letters. Luca does a little hop-dance that’d make way more sense underwater, and Alberto kicks his legs so hard Massimo can hear it from 2 stories down

Fish-related ones

Luca (and his family) teaches Alberto seafolk culture (it doesn’t always work out, by he tries his best to get along & integrate)

Luca will 100% pull Alberto out of bed at 1 in the morning to swim far out to sea, past the island where Portorosso is just a line on the horizon, and look at the night sky without any light pollution affecting it. Sometimes Alberto complains, but most times he doesn’t because he sees how happy/awestruck Luca is and gets soft

Their favorite date spot is the Island, especially in that seaside cave that’s partially filled with water.

Last thing:

Both of their queer journeys fucking sucked. They were both difficult as shit. If you think being gay in 1900’s Italy was easy, you’re wrong. If you think realizing you’re in love with your best friend, who lives almost a hundred kilometers away, in a society without texting, or inexpensive out-of-town calls, with 75% of the population being Catholic, is easy? You’re wrong. (Not to mention the whole sea monster barricade & Alberto’s People-Pleaser issues!) Those boys would go through a lot just to come to terms with it, and then to confess, not only their sexuality but also their attraction? Bro. be real. It would be a goddamn miracle they got together in the first place, and then to stay that way for the rest of their lives? god

There are certainly more headcanons and ideas in my brain, but I still want *some* material for the queue, so this’ll be it. for now

#you should NOT have asked me this #asks #do i tag this?#i dont know #luberto #long post #inbox

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writingjourney · 1 month

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Hi, I really love your writing! :3 i hate to be a bother, but do you think you have any advice for me? I want to write some fics of my own. Short ones mostly, but I still keep running into various problems. I'm good at description and I'm decent at dialogue for the most part, but when it comes to actually moving a scene forward and making things happen, or even just moving from one scene to the next, I have absolutely no idea how to proceed. Like, everyone present at the time just ends up talking in circles without managing to say anything new or pertinent. And even when I have every major bit that I want to happen planned out, I cannot figure out how to actually get it to each point or even to A point at all. At any rate, thank you for your time, even if you don't respond to this, and I hope you have a good day/evening :)

Thank you anon ♡ Sorry I was a little busy today so I didn't have any time to properly reply until now!! You're not a bother at all, I love to talk about writing!!!! Some more in-depth thoughts below the cut :)

I definitely know what you mean. It's hard to keep scenes concise while also making sure the pacing is neither too fast nor too slow and adding the details you want in there without rambling on. Pacing depends on the scene and the story you want to tell (faster pace for action, slower pace for calmer moments, more description/longer scenes = slower pace etc etc) – you can shorten or stretch scenes as much as you want to. You definitely should be following your own style and not try to adapt to what you think a fic/story in general should look like.

That being said, I get that sometimes you want to move a scene forward and it doesn't always work out. Usually, this happens to me when I am not very excited about what's happening right now and need a change (or I don't know what happens next). You can start working on a scene that excites you more. I am a bit chaotic like that, I just write out scenes and dialogue lines and paragraphs as they come to me and then I just link them up later. You can link scenes by time-skipping, by adding some introspection, a character's observations etc. And yes, show don't tell is good advice but not every single thing always needs to be written out in detail and sometimes you just have to say that it's the next day and move on.

Or... well, you literally change the scene at hand. Have the characters get interrupted if they can't wrap up the convo, someone disturbs them, one of them realizes they have an appointment, it suddenly starts to rain – throw stuff at them that makes them become active again. Sometimes re-writing helps as well. Not editing, rewriting. Keep the OG draft but write the scene again from scratch. We get so attached to lines we've written we don't always check to see if they still fit. Push stuff around, change the order of things, just try on some changes and see if it flows nicer.

Another thing I can recommend if you want to go from BIG scene to BIG scene is to add some smaller scenes for transition. I like to do this, make the character reflect on the events while doing some menial task, have them meet someone else and have the reflection happen via conversation, have them just observe their surroundings, have them dedicate some time to their hobby – it all gives us new info about the character and it won't feel as much like BAM BAM BAM big scene after big scene. Quiet before the storm.

Now, you said you want to write short fics, so I'm not sure if you mean just drabble/ficlet type of stories or more elaborate one-shots instead of longer multi chapters like I sometimes do? The key I would say to a very short fic is to start off strong. Jump straight into the scene and don't be scared to omit the backstory and descriptions, it's hard but if you want to keep it short it's necessary to really think about which descriptions make sense. I'm not good at super short fics usually unless I'm possessed by one specific scene that doesn't need much context, so perhaps I'm not the best to ask.

For one shots with multiple shorter scenes I think you need to also just be brave and skip around. Scenes don't always need long transitions, sometimes it's a few days later when the next notable thing happens and that's where you continue. Again, I think strong scene openers really help here. Draw the reader into the next scene and they won't even notice. You can always add more description later should it feel clunky. Read the transitions aloud, that also helps to see if they flow nicely.

I hope this was any help at all. Please feel free to ask again if something is unclear, if I should go into more detail for some of it or you have any other questions :) ♡

#asks #anon #writing things

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angelst4re · 2 years

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Ummm so... This is very specific

A fic where jamie and reader (actress) meet during the filming of Sweeney Todd (she plays Johanna) they become friends and later more than just friends and then the devil's tango 😏😏

okay... i love this i love this i loveee this!!!! i've kinda combined a few different requests together here as it made sense, so i hope you like it!!! i had so much fun writing it <3

Mystery of Love- Jamie Campbell Bower x Reader

summary: reader and jamie met during the filming of sweeney todd, they become great friends but then end up 'losing contact', but they're reunited many years later and have some tension to resolve.

warnings: underage drinking? (super brief!), smut! it's mostly not.. but if you're uncomfortable with this please don't read!

note: okay so, reader plays robin in stranger things (and jamie didn't watch season 3!) just trust me on this one besties. ALSO i literally spent all day writing this and rewriting this and writing this cos i just love the idea overall!! i have such a romanticised idea of love it is not okay.

You first met Jamie in 2007, when you began filming Sweeney Todd. The two of you clicked instantly seeing as you both had a few things in common, such as this being your first proper movie and both being younger than most people on set. At the time of filming, Jamie was 18 and you were 17, so neither of you were really more experienced than the other.

It didn’t take long for you to become great friends. You shared your worries with each other, spent the days together in London when you weren’t filming, he would even sneak you a few drinks at the pub after hours of you begging him, which he easily gave into. You even spent your 18th birthday on set, and although you couldn’t go home to see your family he made it special. After filming he surprised you with a cake and a couple gifts- one of which you had pointed out in a shop window when the two of you had spent a day in London together…

“What if Sweeney does well and we become super famous celebrities?” Jamie asks with a grin, nudging you with his elbow as you walk down the street.

“Pfft, it’ll do great because of Johnny, Helena and Alan, people won’t think twice about us!”

“Hey! Don’t crush my dreams, y/n!” He joked, “I think we’ll get super rich and famous and we’d be able to afford anything here!” He pointed to the window of Tiffany’s as an example, and something immediately caught your eye.

“Jamie look!” You pointed at the bracelet, “okay, so when we become super rich and famous actors I know what I’ll be buying first!”

You couldn’t believe it. The bracelet was almost £400 when you saw it in the store. It was a beautiful silver bead bracelet with the signature Tiffany blue heart which had a tiny diamond on the other side. Your eyes began to fill with tears as you flung your arms around Jamie, trapping him in a tight hug. It was this night when you realised you had caught feelings for your best friend.

You didn’t know whether you should tell him or just let it pass, would he say he liked you back or would it ruin your friendship? It kept you awake at night, questioning everything. You were sure you wouldn’t see him much anymore after filming, so it was either tell him how you feel before it’s too late or just try to push it all aside for the next two weeks until it’s over and hope you’ll never see him again. But you couldn’t do that, he had become such an important person in your life that you didn’t think you could live without him.

However, you succeeded in keeping your feelings a secret. You thought it was for the best, and on the night of the premiere you knew it was for a reason. You had been waiting for Jamie to text you back, he had asked you almost two months ago about going with him but he had said no more after that, and you were left confused and- on the night- alone.

And then you saw him walking down the carpet with another girl.

You felt your heart sink as he put his arm around her, kissing her forehead and then making eye contact with you, sending a massive smile your way. You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried blinking away the tears in your eyes as he made his way over to you.

“Y/n! I don't know if you two have met before… this is my girlfriend, Louise!”

—————————♡—————————

Many years and many failed relationships had passed. You rarely thought about Jamie anymore, although you truly believed he was your first love, it would be impossible to truly forget about him. You checked up on him through social media once or twice a year, but you never plucked up the courage to message him. You knew the basics of what had gone down in his life since you last saw him- which had been at the premiere.

You knew he went on to star in Harry Potter and Twilight, you were happy his career had gone the way he had always dreamed of when the two of you would talk about your futures. You had also starred in some pretty big movies since your first, you wondered whether he was happy for you too, or whether he even thought about you at all.

You still wore the bracelet he bought you for your 18th birthday everyday. When asked about it, you said it was from an old friend- which wasn’t a lie- but if one of your partners found out you still wore a bracelet given to you from a boy you have loved for most of your life, it wouldn't end too well. And if they also found out he was the reason you had declined so many marriage proposals, you were sure they would call you crazy.

However, what you didn’t know is that the same thing was happening for Jamie. He had gotten into many relationships since meeting you, but nobody was you. He wished he could have told you the truth all those years ago, that he was too afraid of you not loving him back, so he found somebody who he knew would love him, even if it was just for his money.

He wished you knew how often he would check up on you, and how reading news headlines such as ‘Y/n Engaged?! Sweeney Todd Star Opens Up About Her Love Life’ would tear his heart even more. He wished he could find the courage to reach out to you, to see how you’re really doing. But he knew it wasn’t a good idea, he knew it would break him to find out how happy you have been without him.

Every night when he was far from home, on tour with his band, he would listen to the mixtape the two of you had made and think back to the days the two of you would spend together in London. How truly in love with you he was, yet he was too afraid to tell you. He was going to ask you to be his girlfriend on your birthday when he had bought you the bracelet, but he was too afraid of you rejecting him, so he just kept his mouth shut. And lord, did he regret it.

Little did he know, auditioning for Stranger Things would bring more than just old fans back to him.

—————————♡—————————

When you arrived at the read through for the new season, you sat down beside Natalia and Joe. Excited to see everybody again, you didn’t notice the new name at the end of the table. Everyone sat down and began to get ready to go through the papers when-

“Sorry I’m late! I had trouble getting in!”

You recognised that voice, and suddenly a small wave of panic washed through you. You leaned past Joe to see who it was. And there he was. His voice was deeper than it was at 18, and his hair slightly shorter and lighter than it had been the last time you had seen him. His face was more defined, he was no longer the silly teenage boy he was when you met him, but instead he was a grown man.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Joe asked, giving you a funny look, “it looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” He joked, but little did he know.

You told him everything was okay, you just thought you had forgotten to do something before you left home. You pulled up the sleeve on your hoodie, covering the bracelet on your wrist as your brain worked at 150mph to try to comprehend what had just happened.

“Everybody, I forgot to introduce you all to Jamie,” Matt Duffer announced. You felt faint, “he’s going to be playing Peter Ballard, our friendly orderly.” He said with a slight smirk

Much to your surprise, you managed to get through the read through without too much trouble. It was what was yet to come that had you nervous. Joe had told you he had met Jamie before, and you almost let your secret slip. But he had also asked about going out for drinks tonight, since everyone was now back together, and it would be great to get to know the new members of the cast- Jamie and Joseph. As Charlie and Natalia were up for it, it would seem quite suspicious if you were to decline and go back to your hotel instead.

When you got to the bar, it was just you, Charlie and Natalia. The others were running slightly late, which of course didn’t bother you. You decided to come clean and confess everything as you waited.

“If I tell you guys something… strange… will you promise not to tell Joe, or anyone for that matter?” You ask, putting your drink down on the table.

“Of course, what is it?” Natalia asked, sipping her strawberry lemonade.

“So, it’s about Jamie…”

Charlie and Natalia were shocked, but not entirely surprised. It made sense, they both knew you were in Sweeney Todd, and they thought they recognised Jamie from somewhere.

“So, this is Charlie, Natalia and y/n! Guys meet Joseph and Jamie! They’re so cool!” Joe grinned, sitting beside you.

When you looked up, you were stunned to see Jamie already smiling at you. You couldn’t believe how he was so beautiful.

“Well, holy shit,” he said, standing by your side, looking down at you, grinning like a kid at christmas, “hello again, darling!”

To him, you had barely changed in 13 years. Sure, he had checked on your instagram every few months, but it was nothing in comparison to seeing you again in person.

“Oh my god!” You chuckle nervously, you could see Natalia giving you a worried glance form the corner of your eye, “Jamie…” You didn’t realise how his name brought back so many memories you forgot you had, “...how have you been?”

“I’ve had my ups and downs, y’know. But what about you?” He placed his hand on your shoulder, his touch was still as gentle as ever- but now he had tattoos on his middle fingers.

“I’ve been great!” You smiled, probably too enthusiastically, “do you want a drink? I’ve just finished mine, heineken right?” You ask, standing up.

“Oh, just a coke please, love. I don’t drink anymore.” He tells you, your heart racing at the ‘love’, he truly had not changed.

You nodded and took your glass back to the bar, ready to order the same drink again, along with Jamie’s. You couldn’t quite comprehend that this man is your Jamie, the boy you had loved for almost half of your life. In your mind he was still the same boy he was when he was 18, but now you watched him from across the room, he had grown up. The two of you talked about growing up and getting older, although you were both high at the time, and you had always imagined growing up with him. You knew he wasn’t the same boy he was 13 years ago any more, now you look at him and he’s almost a stranger to you.

The evening went by quite nicely, there was never a moment of awkward silence between the six of you, and Joseph seemed lovely. Joe yawned, and told you all he would be heading back to his hotel soon, to which you followed, saying you had to wake up early tomorrow.

You hugged Natalia and Charlie goodbye, telling Joseph it was lovely to meet him and you can’t wait to work with him. As you made your way to Jamie, he stopped and told you he would walk with you to your hotel as you found out earlier you were both staying on the same floor.

The two of you walked out, a little too far behind Joe to walk with him. As you crossed the road Jamie caught sight of something on your left wrist, and it was like the world around him had paused.

Jamie walked into the store, determined to find the exact one you wanted. However, when he looked around he couldn’t find it. He had walked around the shop twice when a young lady who worked there approached him, asking him if he’d like any assistance.

“Yes, actually! I’m looking for this bracelet for my, uh… friend. She saw it in the window a couple of weeks ago, it had these beads and a heart on it… I was just wondering if you had any in, I can’t seem to find it?”

“Oh, of course! It’s probably out in the back, give me two seconds!” She smiled, disappearing into a room around the back. Jamie waited at the counter for around five minutes before she came back, a little blue box in her hand, “is this the one you were looking for?”

“Yes! Thank you! How much is it, may I ask?” Jamie grinned.

“£380, cash or card?” The lady asked politely, tapping the buttons on the till.

“Oh, um. Card, thank you.” Jamie felt around in his pockets before finding his credit card, handing it over.

After paying, the lady handed him the gift in a beautiful blue bag. He just knew you would love this, it didn’t matter if he had just spent this month's rent on it, nothing in this world could matter more to him than you.

“You still wear the bracelet?” Jamie spoke softly, his fingers brushing against your wrist.

“Of course I do,” you smile, “I’ve worn it pretty much everyday since my 18th birthday. No gift I’ve ever received has meant more to me than this.”

“You know, when I bought that for you I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend.” He admitted, shocked at himself that he had finally told you this after all those years, “but I was too scared. Scared you would say no, and things wouldn’t go back to how they were. I regret it now, and there hasn’t been a day since that I haven’t thought about how different our lives would be if I did actually ask you… I really loved you, y/n. I think, maybe-”

“Then why didn’t you call?” You ask, your voice cracking as you stared at the ground, continuing to walk, “after the premiere I never heard from you again. No calls, no texts, you just disappeared from my life.” You turned to look at him, the moment he saw the tears in your eyes he broke.

“That wasn’t me, darling,” he says as the two of you walk through the doors of the hotel, “Louise, she thought you liked me, she thought I liked you more than her- and she wasn’t wrong. I treated you so wrong, darling, I know-”

“No you don’t know!” You raised your voice, “I thought it was my fault, all these years. I thought maybe I did something wrong-”

“Baby, you didn’t,” he attempted to calm you down, placing his hands on your shoulders, “it was all my fault, okay? I fucked everything up, and believe me, I payed the price-”

“No, you’re not listening to me! Jamie, I loved you too, I loved you more- and, fuck, maybe I still do! You’re not even with that girl anymore, what has stopped you from reaching out to me? Letting me know it was never my fault? I’ve never been able to hold down a relationship, I’ve always looked for you in other guys, I thought maybe one day you would come back and tell me you were sorry and we would try things out- but that was 13 years ago, Jamie. I’m not the same person as I was back then. You can’t just expect me to accept your half-assed apology and things go back to how they were when we were kids. I have dreams, I have plans, and they’re not the same ones I told you about all those years ago. People change, that’s what I’m getting at. I’ve changed. You’ve changed. So maybe-”

Jamie will never know what you were going to tell him in that moment, as his lips smashed into yours. And there was no way you would pull back. You had only dreamed of this before, and the passion that had been locked into the kiss was more than anything you had felt before. It felt right, and you had never believed anything more in your life.

This was how it was always meant to be.

As Jamie pulled back for air, you couldn’t help but pull him in again, missing his touch already.

“My room’s closer,” you whispered between kisses. You were glad it was late, and nobody was around, “I need you so fucking bad.”

“Darling, I’ve needed this for longer than you could imagine.”

Once in your hotel room, you shut and locked the door. Throwing your top to the floor, kicking off your heels as Jamie loosened his tie, unbuttoning the top of his shirt as he pushes you against the door, crashing his lips into yours once more. You felt one of his hands work to unbutton your jeans, the other one tangling into your hair and pulling you impossibly closer to him.

Before you knew it, you were standing in just your bra and panties in front of Jamie, who was still fully clothed. He lifted your thighs, you wrapped them around his waist and he carried you to the bed. You giggled against his lips as you landed on your back, your head against the pillows. Jamie took his time to admire your body. Every inch. His finger traced over a tattoo on your hip, one you had told him you would get when you’re older. He smiled at the memory, and continued to kiss down your body, all the way to your knees.

His hand cupped your heat over your panties, rubbing his palm into the area surrounding your clit. To this, you began rocking your hips, gasping at the sensation. He kissed your inner thigh and then moved his hand, placing a kiss over your clothed clit.

You reached down to the man between your thighs, beginning to run your fingers through his hair. He pushed your panties to the side and ran his finger through your folds, collecting your arousal as he circled around your hole. You shivered at the feeling, wanting to take his wrist and shove his hand, pushing his finger into you. However, he pulled back and took off your underwear. Leaving you in just your lace bra. His warm tongue was flat against your sensitive nub as his finger eased into you. He groaned at how warm and tight you felt, imagining what it would feel like if his cock was buried deep inside you.

“Jamie,” you panted, “stop teasing… we’ve waited long enough.” At this, he pumped his finger a few more times, attempting to stretch you out a little for him, and then pulled away.

He took his shirt off, and fumbled with the button of his trousers, before pulling them down his legs along with his boxers. You sat up and unclasped your bra, and when you realised you were both naked in front of each other, you felt warm in your tummy. This is how it was always supposed to be.

He came back to the bed, his throbbing cock pressing against your thigh as he kissed your bare chest, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples as your hand came down to pump him, rubbing your thumb over the tip, earning a moan from Jamie.

When he released your nipple with a quiet pop, he moved back to your lips, and slipped his tongue into your mouth. You felt the tip of his dick rubbing up and down your slit, before he began pushing himself into you. The stretch wasn’t too painful, once he was fully inside you he stopped his movements, just holding you close to him as your hands rubbed up and down his back. This is how it was meant to be. You both kept thinking to yourselves.

As he began to move his hips, you took a deep breath. Taking in the moment, wishing it would never end. His pace picked up pretty quick, and you were soon raking your nails across his back. His hand held onto your hip and he flipped you over, so you were now on top.

You sat there for a moment, kissing down his jaw before starting to move your hips up and down, clenching your walls around him. His hands came down to your hips, helping you find a steady pace, then one of them moved to toy with your clit, needing you to fall over the edge before he did.

You were both moaning messes, your legs trembled as you approached your high, your breath getting faster. You took his hand that was playing with your clit and instead wrapped his fingers around your throat. Your eyes rolled back as you started moving your hips faster and faster, bouncing on his cock. And soon, you were seeing white. He continued to fuck into you as your orgasm washed over you, your body fell forwards against his so you were now chest to chest. He kissed your cheek, still continuing to pound into you, knowing that you were now clearly overstimulated, but he was oh so close to the edge, he just needed something…

“Cum inside me,” you whispered, “do it, please. I need to feel it.” He had never heard you sound so seductive, begging for his cum. However, it worked, and his thrusts started to get sloppy, until they stopped completely and his seed was coating your walls.

“Fuck,” he groaned lowly, “I love you, y/n. I’ve always been so afraid of telling you, I was more afraid of rejection, but you need to know the truth. I don’t think I’ve ever stopped loving you.”

“I love you more, Jamie.” You smile, lifting your head up to kiss his lips, “please don’t leave me ever again, ever.”

“I’m never leaving again, baby. I promise.” He whispered, shifting his hips slightly to get comfortable, forgetting his cock was still buried inside you, “you’ll always be mine.”

—————————♡—————————

13 years ago, 26th June 2007

“Jamie…” you began, passing him your cigarette, “do you ever think you’ll ever get married?”

He choked at the question, causing you to laugh.

“I don’t know, maybe one day. When I’m in my 30s or something, hopefully before I start balding!” He said, leaning over the balcony. You giggled again, almost anything he said had this effect on you, and now you were drunk you were more giggly than ever, “what about you?” he asks, blowing the smoke from his mouth.

“I want to get married to my soulmate, if I have one-”

“Everyone has one! You won’t be the exception, y/n!” Jamie laughs, handing the cigarette back to you as you stand beside him, leaning over the balcony.

“You believe in soulmates?” You ask, curiously.

“Well, I have to believe in something! A person that loves me unconditionally, who always comes back to me and completes me isn’t so impossible, is it?” He asks dramatically, his hand over his heart. You giggled once more, not knowing whether he was being serious or not.

“Of course not, Jamie.” You frowned sarcastically, patting his arm as he began laughing into your shoulder.

“We better get back to the party, they’re going to be wondering where the fun went!”

“No more drinking, okay? I don’t want to be dealing with you when you’re hungover again.” You say, plucking some confetti from his hair.

“It’s better than dealing with me when I’m drunk, I hope.”

“Oh, much better, Jamie.” You giggle, resting your head on his shoulder, staring into the night sky.

#jamie campbell bower #jamie bower #jamie campbell bower x reader #jamie bower x reader #jamie campbell bower smut #jamie bower smut #i <3 friends to lovers

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chasingpj · 1 year

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🍄 hiiiiii congrats on 1k!!! i started reading ur child of hecate fic since the 1st chapter& i loveeeee what ur doing for the rewrite!!! any ways i want to ask what ur wips r rn ??? cause u havent updated in a while & i wanted to know if u have smthng planned

hi hi! first, i want to say thank you so much for sticking by my fic for so long like?? I'm the worst post-er in the world and i truly applaud you for your patience and am so so thankful for your support!!!

now to answer your question... i indeed have plenty for you guys and i'm really hoping i get to execute this! I'll give you some sneak peaks of the writing too :)))

Here With Me: it's a nico one-shot with a platonic older sister reader and the relationship is kind of inspired by Wednesday and Pugsley's dynamic.

“Okay, listen here…” You move a little closer, eyeing the name tag on the frightened guard. “Atrius. Have you seen a girl named Bianca? She looks like this kid.” Pointing at Nico, the ghost peers over your shoulder.

“No, I haven’t seen her.” As definitive as that statement was, he didn’t sound so definitive. His bones clinked together as he shivered in your presence.

“I don’t like when people lie to me.” You stare into his empty eye sockets. One moment passes and then two and then three and still he hasn’t budged. Irritation buzzed at the back of your skull. You had the time but none of the patience to play hide and seek.

Nico stands a short way behind you, partially concerned for your victim. He wasn’t sure what you were going to do if you didn’t get what you wanted. The skeleton flashed him a look and even with no skin on his face, he could tell it was pleading.

“Help me!” He was saying without a word. The boy doesn’t move from his spot though, instead looking away sheepishly. Pleading or not, he looked scary. That and Nico really wants to find his sister.

“I’m not lying!” He insists and it annoys you even more. Quickly, in one movement, you grab his leg and tug so hard it comes straight out the socket. Tossing it to the side, your eyes don’t leave him as he yelps, falling straight to the ground.

“Tell me where she is, or I’m tossing both of your legs into Tartarus. Last chance.”

2. Discovered: it's a percy one shot where you're jason's little sister and you've trying to keep your relationship a secret

“Perce, we should get out there.” Your eyes focus on the door as he slowly lowers your hand off his face. “I came here to wake you up, not to cuddle.” The suggestion flew into one ear and out the other, Percy only nuzzling his face further into your neck. “Hmm.” The vibration of his hum tickles your skin, distracting the rational thoughts that urge you to take your own advice. “Let’s just stay here and sleep a little longer.”

When did you become so weak? You’re not sure how it came about with Percy. His husky, fatigue-laced voice was enough for you to persuade you. It wasn’t even the warmth of his body splayed over yours or the inviting bed sheets graced with his sweet scent that could sway your persistence. As much as you wished to stay here, playing with Percy’s dark locks until the two of you drift to sleep, you know you couldn’t.

Your brother, Jason, was big on routines and he didn’t waste any time to work out a schedule for himself and the whole Argo II crew. Curfew was set to wake up at the crack of dawn and the times varied person to person under the consideration of who was scheduled for the night watch. 7 am was pretty early, considering you’re all stuck on a boat all day. The hours would just drag and you’ve tried to compromise with him about it but the former praetor was set on his plans.

3. Holidate: it's short series that i'm working on inspired by the netflix movie Holidate! It takes place after college, percy and y/n are adults and just got out of long term relationships! it's a fake dating au. I want to get this fic out for the holidays at the end of the year!

“What?” Silena doesn’t falter her stare and you shift on your feet, suddenly, aware of Ellie tugging on your arm, eager to show you all the Christmas presents she got this year. “You're acting like I showed up in sweats!” Silena purses her lips. “I did my hair, and my makeup! First time in 3 months.” You hoped she'd give you some credit but her expression doesn’t change. “You know what? I don’t need to explain myself to you. I’m going to attend your daughter's Christmas Haul now.”

Silena scoffs and turns on her heels, the red bottoms of her heels clashing perfectly with the green of her dress. Content with that being the end of your conversation, you make your way to the grand stairs with your 4-year-old tour guide.

“You look like shit.” Your vision follows the direction of the voice. Drew smirks, glamorous in her choice of outfit today. To any other dinner party, you wouldn’t be underdressed but Cabin 10 took any event like the met gala.

“Thank you.” you smile as if you just got a compliment. Ignoring her look of obvious disgust, you run up the stairs behind the crowd of children.

__________

“Percy?” Estelle pats her older brother’s shoulder. She waits for a moment, the older boy staring at his cup of eggnog with nothing particular in mind. “PERCY?”

As if snapping out of a trance, Percy blinks, meeting the six-year-olds gaze. “Yes, Guppy?”

The sweet tone in his voice was hard to manage but the last thing he wanted was to ruin his little sister's Christmas with his crabby attitude. He wishes he stayed home at his apartment, waiting out this holiday by pretending it was just a regular Friday. Sally didn’t allow it though, waking him up by calling his landline and demanding he showed up to Christmas dinner. He only came for Estelle. He knew his little sister would miss him.

“Where’s Annie?” She asks, teddy in her arms. Percy shifts, about to answer before his mother chimes in.

“Estelle, can you help dad set the table?” The task was somehow exciting to her child mind, the girl ditching the teddy bear on Percy’s lap. Saved by mom, Percy releases the breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “Sorry,” Sally sheepishly sits beside her son. “I told her what happened and to not bring it up. I guess she wants to hear the news straight from you.”

“It’s fine,” Percy says, green orbs returning to the eggnog in his hand.

#xeni's ask box #percy jackson x reader #nico di angelo fanfic #nico di angelo x reader #xeni's 1k celebration

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everestica · 2 years

Note

hello i’m back w my akito reqs haha~ may i request (hmm story if possible,,) beach day w vbs and akito confesses during sunset and stuffs like that? hope it’s not too confusing or vague hwks thank you have a nice day/evening<33

Akito x Reader: Sunset Confession

Writing Type: Story

Request: Yes

Author’s Note: Ahhh This is adorable, because he would totally do this! Anyway as always if you don’t like it or if it’s not what you wanted feel free to let me know and have me rewrite it!<3

You and Vivid Bad squad were heading to the beach for a team bonding thing, you’re not really sure why you were invited since you weren’t actually a part of the band, but you took it as a beach trip with your friends, and your crush, Akito. Yeah, you guys were in the same class and you two have grown super close over the couple months that your guys have known each other, but little did you know that he also really liked you, and this was the rest of the unit's idea so you two could get together.

-TimeSkip To when you get there-

“Alright so we got 3 rooms, so let's have Myself, and Kohane in one room, Toya by himself, and Akito and Y/n!” An says question at first and excited by the time she finished.

“Shouldn’t Akito and Toya be together” You questioned An

“Nah, You and Akito get along to well that you two should be together” She said confidently

“Oh Okay!” You said back

You and Akito walked over to the room and opened the door to see one bed, and bathroom on the left, a vanity, a tv, and an ocean view.

“Oh dang only one bed and no couch” He said with hope in his voice

“I mean we could always share..?” You started

“I mean only if you're okay with it” You said as soon as you finished your first statement.

“I mean if your okay with it, then sure” He said putting his bag down

Soon after settling in you got at text from An, saying the rest were going to the beach, and you and Akito should join them.

You texted “Yes!” Back really quick, told Akito then you took the bathroom to change.

“Hey, you look really good ;)” Akito said as soon as you stepped out of the bathroom

“Oh shut up you perv” you said after he winked at you

He just laughed in response

-TimeSkip to the beach-

“OVER HERE!!” An yells excitedly when she see you and Akito.

You both walk down and you see they already had a spot set up with towels, an umbrella, and a cooler with drinks. Akito, An, and Toya all went to mess around in the water which left you and Kohane to just chill with the stuff.

“So.. You and Akito” Kohane says looking mischievously at you sitting on her left

“What about us..?” You say with a growing blush on your face

“I mean like are you two like secretly dating or something?” She contuines

“No” You say

“And even if I did like him, I doubt he likes me back” you finish

Just then Kohane bursts out laughing

“Huh” you say looking at her weirdly

“He totally likes you, and his plan was to confess to you today at some point, but you uh didn’t hear that from me” She finishes

“Yeah, as if” you say rolling your eyes

-TimeSkip-

You guys were all sitting under the umbrella and it was also just about to be sunset. That’s when Akito grabbed your hand out of nowhere and started to pull you towards a cliff.

He didn’t let go of you until you two made it to the top

“What the hell Akito” you say almost yelling

“Please, I just really need to tell you something” He says

“What is some important that you almost had to rip off my arm” you said crossing your arms

“This” his says kissing you”

“I- W-“ you say after he pulls back

It’s now sunset

“I really like you Y/n, and I thought this was the perfect time to tell you, Will you uh be my girlfriend” He says

“I- Yes!” You say

“Now im like half asleep so I’m can we go back to the room” you finish

“Sure, Sleepyhead” He says laughing

You guys go back to the room, change, and get into bed. Just as your about to fall asleep Akito pulls you so your laying on head on his chest, he kisses your head.

“Goodnight Sleepyhead” He says.<3

#project sekai #project sekai x reader #akito shinonome #akito shinonome x reader #akito shinonome fluff

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naranjapetrificada · 21 days

Note

3, 4, 17 for the fic writer asks! <3

Thank you ❤️❤️❤️

If you want to play, pick your fic writing question(s) from this list!

I already answered 3 here, but as for the rest:

4. a story idea you haven’t written yet

I guess it depends on what you define "written" as? Like if written means "finished work" then there's the captive/different first meeting AU I was working on before my current WIP that should count. The preliminary work I did on that was the first time I ever thought a longfic was possible, and I want to circle back around to it eventually because I think I've got a fun twist on the captive trope in mind.

Another idea that fits the description above is a fic of a fic, the incredible In Favor With Their Stars. I've got a couple paragraphs of prose and in line with the way the original story is written, some command lines written as well. The idea for it is existentially devastating though so I'm not sure I'll ever be able to write it. I was lucky enough to get to talk to mxmollusca about it and they approved/encouraged me to keep going so idk, someday.

If you mean something I haven't done work on, well, I guess the closest thing I have to that is something I was thinking about when the season 2 teaser first dropped. It was going to be shortish piece in the vein of "let's just get it out of our system" smut where Ed spent the whole time desperately trying to capture it all in his memory, to the point where he wouldn't really be experiencing it at all. The more we learned about the season, the less viable the idea seemed so I eventually scrapped it.

17. talk about your writing and editing process

Well. Talking about the latter is going to be much more concrete than the former, so let's get that out of the way first.

As someone with not one, but two creative writing degrees, I can tell you that actual CWR classes are incredibly hit or miss. My experience was such a mixed bag, including how much better most of the teachers I had in undergrad were than in grad school. It was one of those undergrad teachers who gave me the one piece of writing advice that I've never, ever abandoned: during the revision process (emphasis on "vision"), instead of tweaking an existing document, try rewriting the new draft in a brand new doc.

Maybe it's not something everyone needs to do, but it's something I very much have to do. I do it every time, without fail, and my writing is the better for it. Once I actually start it's hardly a hardship for me, although that probably varies person to person. The quality of every aspect of my writing grew by leaps and bounds once I started doing it. It forces me to truly look at my work in a way I can never really see it otherwise.

As for the writing process itself? That's a lot fuzzier. In some ways, I'm still figuring out what that means for me now that I'm exclusively writing fic. Because my relationship with the experience of writing has fundamentally changed, I guess it makes sense that the way I do it might too.

That's doubly true now that I work from home on a schedule that's not exactly 9-5. I don't have a set time to sit down and do it, nor a daily word quota. Some days I write nothing. Some days I write 50 words. Some days I write 5000. The days I write nothing are usually days I never got around to opening whatever my working document is, because once it's open I'll usually have something to say. I'm sure if I worked more consistently I could work faster, but that would come at the expense of sustainability. In order for writing to be sustainable for me right now, it can't not reward me for it somehow. I have to be enjoying myself or I'll grow to resent it.

#ask games #ask game #asked and answered #ofmd #fic writing #writing process

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thepaintedlady00 · 1 year

Text

Nightshade

Chapter 2: Jack & Ozzy's

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

This chapter has been the bane of my existence all day. Last night I finished all my editing and add-ons and this morning I woke up and it was all gone. I spent two hours trying to troubleshoot and save what I'd written and nothing worked. So I spent all day today re-editing and rewriting scenes. So if a few sections have mistakes or feel a bit off I apologize! But, as always, enjoy and please if you enjoy this chapter show it me lots of love! 😅😂

TW: language, some flirty tension, some drinking & smoking, minor mentions of drugs, I don't know shit about fancy wine or food 💁‍♀️, lots of new characters and little peeks into Lena's past (which we will be diving into the next few chapters), cliffhanger (yes, they're back bitches 😈)

"Bullshit!" Santos hollered beside me.

I held a wet hand up with a fit of laughter. "Swear to God!"

He shook his head, moving the bin of freshly washed dishes onto the drying rack as the other cooks joined in on the laughter. "Ain't no way a prim and proper girl like you did something like that!"

As I dried my hands I turned to the now-clean kitchen and smiled widely. "A prim and proper? Absolutely not!"

Isaac stuffed the last bite of his leftovers into his mouth and nodded. "It's true, Lena is a menace to society."

"You were there?"

"Oh yeah," he laughed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "When she climbed onto the table I thought I'd seen it all, then-" he replicated the sound of tearing and laughed, "Off went the shirt and she started belting the worst rendition of Santa Baby I've ever heard! Best Christmas ever!"

I whacked his arm off and playfully shoved him. "Oh, like you weren't climbing on top of tables and singing Bon Jovi like a dumbass ten minutes after me!"

Isaac huffed, stumbling back into the counter with an exaggerated groan. "How could you Lena?! You know insults about my karaoke are my one weakness!"

Scott rolled his eyes, quietly laughing. "Keep it up, maybe he'll finally die and we can all have some peace."

"Ah-ha!" Isaac cheered, bouncing back up. "Hope, the source of my power!"

I clicked my tongue and shook my head at Scott. "Rookie move, Chef."

“How long have you two known each other?” Santos asked after his laughter had died down.

My friend took his bandana off his head, waving the sweaty fabric in my face. “Years.”

“Too long,” I groaned, shoving his hand away.

“Come on, there has to be an interesting story there,” one of the other cooks demanded.

I smirked at Isaac and wiggled my eyebrows. “You wanna tell em or should I?”

“I’ll tell them. No one needs to hear your exaggerated tall tales.” He shrugged his shoulders and continued, “Her older brother and I are well acquainted.”

Scott scoffed and pointed to me. “Your version.”

Isaac protested, but everyone else shushed him and settled around me to listen. “So, there I was minding my own business watching tv on MY couch eating some shitty cereal or something when all of a sudden the front door gets slammed open and my brother practically drags this disheveled man into my apartment. I was shocked and slightly mortified, seeing my brother getting hot and heavy with some guy wasn’t exactly what I was expecting to see.”

“It was not that bad!” Isaac insisted.

“How long before they noticed you?” Santos asked with a wide grin.

“Oh once the shirts came off I was pretty quick to announce myself.” I laughed, bumping Isaacs's shoulder. “We bonded the following morning over a very awkward breakfast.”

He smirked at the memory. "You are very good at holding awkward conversations."

Howard entered the kitchen and looked around, his expression always masked with a polite curve of his lips but judgmental eyes. He looked at each of us, raising one brow and smiling just a little bit more. "Good service everyone."

It was an unspoken ritual of the night's end, Howard coming in and scanning the kitchen, one that never ceased making Scott's eye twitch. Having spent a month, among two among the kitchen crew It was abundantly clear that Scott felt stifled here and I couldn't exactly blame him. Howard ran a tight ship, ever the loyal and good quartermaster keeping things afloat for the absent captain and she ran an even tighter ship.

Scott was good for the place. He was modern and creative, a butterfly freshly freed of its cocoon only to be caught in a web. The web is old, beautiful, and luxurious but one storm away from being destroyed, and the two spiders that share it never seem to fully be on the same page. The first spider, older and wise, only weaves from old threads insisting that it is the best way to create something of worth. The second spider listens for a while but notices the storm clouds and how the web gets easily caught in the wind so he mixes new silks in with the old trying to keep the web tethered. All the other insects caught in the web remain unaware of the spiders and the storm, but the butterfly sees it all and dreams of what it would be like to fly.

Part of me sympathized with him, after all, I'd been the butterfly once. That was different though. I'd been born into the web, had known the web all my life, and had to destroy the wings to tear myself free. As I looked at Scott I only hoped he wouldn't have to make such a sacrifice. A butterfly without wings was just another insect.

"Let's drink!" Scott said with a deep sigh as he and the majority of the cooks headed out the doors to the lobby.

I looked at Santos as he finished up the remaining dishes. "Need a hand?"

"No," he shook his head with a beaming smile. "There's only a few left. You go ahead, I’ll be right there."

"What's your drink? I'll make it for you when you finish."

He hummed for a minute, thinking intently about his answer. "Surprise me."

I smirked. “You like sweets or savories better?”

“Savories.”

“I’ve got the perfect drink for you to try then.”

The bar was crowded with bodies, everyone telling Nicky and Jake what they wanted to drink, some, Sasha, even reaching over to grab an entire bottle for himself. Howard walked around the lobby, quietly inspecting the tables and listening to his rowdy “changelings” as he liked to call us. Simone sat at one of the closer tables, swirling a glass of wine and looking around with the judgmental stare I’d grown used to in my time here. When her eyes settled on me, she offered up a smile, one that never reached her cold eyes. I returned the polite gesture, but never stopped to give her an opening. I’d be civil, and polite, but I knew her type… knew exactly what her goal was when it came to fresh faces and unpredictable people. In her mind, there could only be one of us.

I slid past Nicky, tapping his shoulder as I passed to grab a glass beside him. “Nick, we got shit for a Michelada?”

The older man slid his newly made drink over the bar to Will and pushed up his glasses, looking around for a minute before he nodded to the far end of the bar. “All the spices you need should be back there, bottom drawer. I’ll grab the beer and tomato juice for ya.”

“Thanks,” I replied turning to follow his directions.

Jake stood in the middle of the space, shaking a drink with hints of an amused smirk on his lips as he looked over at me and said, “Sorry, I need room when I’m shaking.”

What an idiot. I smiled, gently grabbing his shoulder and brushing my body along his back to slide past him. “That’s alright, I don’t mind getting up close and personal.”

“Obviously not,” he hummed as his eyes followed my movements.

Both of us were used to the playful back and forths by now. After the night I schooled him behind the bar he’d been persistent in flirting with me, not that I minded. It was fun and innocent enough given the fact I knew Jake had no notions of grandeur or misconceptions about what was happening between us. I truly hadn’t spent a lot of time with him, but from the small moments, we did share I knew my beginning assessment of him had been pretty close. He was extremely guarded and hid his emotions behind a charming cloud of disinterest and humor, but it was obvious he paid attention to those around him. He was a classic case of a man shit load of unresolved trauma and behavioral issues, your classic bad boy type.

Bad boys didn’t really surprise me anymore. After spending literal years around them at the bar and the slightly different variations of them in culinary school it was all basically the same now. So, I let Jake stare at my boobs and ogle my ass. I flirted back at him, something I hadn’t initially planned on doing, but turned out to be kind of fun. My sex life wasn’t nonexistent, I had a few flings here and there with people I knew and trusted enough not to make the night awkward after, but all that had slowed down after Peter’s diagnosis. At first, it was because I was so busy trying to help take care of him, but now it was… I wanted something real. I wanted to be loved. Jake most likely couldn’t offer me that, but the fun back and forths filled the gaps enough to make me at least feel better for a bit.

When I turned, supplies in hand Jake turned around to face me as I once again slid past him. Ever cocky and smug as he raised his brow at my ability to initiate the intimate closeness that the others he’d pursued likely blushed at or hesitated with in confidence. I set the supplies down and thanked Nicky for getting the rest of it set up for me before jumping into making Santos’ cocktail. He finished up just as I’d begun adding the final touches and stood in front of me with a smile. “Looks delicious.” He complimented in Spanish.

“A delicious drink for a delicious dish boy,” I teased setting it in front of him. “Enjoy Santos.”

“Thank you, Lena.”

I stayed behind the bar that night, helping out with drinks and cleaning up after every one as the night dragged on and they all began to prepare for a long night of partying at Home Bar. Howard and Simone left together, something I’d learned was a regular occurrence, and shortly after they left I too began subtly gathering my things. When someone inevitably made some kind of commotion I quietly slipped through the kitchen and out the back door, as I did often, only this time I didn't get away with it. An arm wrapped around my shoulder and Sasha huffed. "It's so very rude of you to sneak out every night like a little thief, Tiger Bitch."

"Sasha," I whined. "I'm just trying to go home."

"So am I," he said, tugging me slightly. "Home Bar!"

I planted my feet. "Absolutely not! I don't need a hangover."

He frowned. "Oh please! I want to see the Tiger loosen up for once!"

"Sorry to disappoint, but I've got places to be."

His eyebrows wiggled. "A secret boyfriend? No! A child!"

I shook my head and kept walking. "No to both."

Sasha practically collapsed as he threw his head back and groaned. "Tiger Bitch enough with your mysteries!"

Looking back at the puppy-eyed Russian I sighed. "Fine. You can come with me, but this stays between you and me. Got it?"

He locked his lips and threw away the invisible key. "I will tell no one!"

"Come on then, we can't keep him waiting."

"I knew it was a man!"

"Just shut up and walk!"

Jake watched the door for a few minutes after Lena quietly slipped out. She rarely stayed later than Simone and Howard, something his coworkers were absolutely annoyed with. He too was a bit annoyed. After a month of flirting and trying to get this new girl locked in and he had absolutely nothing to show for it. Lena Harrow was still just as much of an enigma as the first day she walked in. The cooks raved every night about how funny and talented she was. The dishwashers gushed over her sticking around to help lighten the dish load with no expectations of payment or thanks. Sasha, Will, Ari, and Heather enjoyed the new girl's bite. Hell, even Scott liked her.

No one, not even Tess, had been this popular at 22West. Jake shook his head, an instinctual attempt to try and refocus himself as the thoughts of Tess still stung. She wasn’t someone too important to him, not like Simone was, but her betrayal still hurt. He moved past it quickly, refusing to cling to that ugly ball of unresolved shit that had slowly been building mass inside his chest, and returned his thoughts to Lena.

They all gossiped as they always did but no one had anything real to add. Even Simone was at a loss, something that unsettled her far more than she let him see. Howard seemed to be the only one that could enlighten him on this frustrating woman, but he would never stoop so low. Jake huffed, turning his head to pour himself another drink just as the last cook exited the kitchen. He stared at Isaac for a moment. He knew her and maybe he'd be willing to share a few details in exchange for a bit of Jake's charm.

"Hey, Isaac," Jake called offering up a drink.

The man smiled, accepting it with a nod. "Thanks."

"So, you and the redhead?" Jake said with a suggestive smirk. "How long has that been a thing?"

Isaac made a face. "Lena and I aren't a couple. She's like a sister."

He nodded. "Sorry I just see you two together a lot, figured it was cause you were an item."

"It's alright," Isaac assured him. "An honest mistake."

"So, she's single then?"

This time Isaac laughed and shook his head. "Lena isn't gonna fuck you, Jake."

He scoffed. "Taken then?"

"Look, I won't pretend like you're not her type." He gestured to Jake, "Dark-haired, damaged bad boy is definitely her thing. But Lena doesn't have the time or interest in adding a very complicated fling or potentially rocky short relationship to her life. She's got enough on her plate as is."

Jake shrugged. "Maybe a fling is exactly what she needs."

Isaac shook his head. "Well, you’re not getting anything outta me. These lips are sealed, my friend.”

It was odd to him, the unwavering loyalty to whatever secrets Lena had entrusted Isaac with. Jake knew little about the cook personally, but from what he’d observed and gained in passing or from Simone the man was hardly a good person. He had his own shortcomings and demons, but no matter what anyone offered him he refused to give up anything that the girl hadn’t shared herself. There was more to her than met the eyes, this much he knew, but at this point, Jake was truly damn curious to learn just how deep this well went.

"Not that I don't trust you, little red-headed girl, but what the hell are we doing in a hospital?" Sasha hissed in a hushed whisper. "This isn't some sort of fucked up organ theft thing is it?"

I looked at him with scrunched eyes. "Ew, no!"

"Thank god," he sighed. "I would not have been ready for that!"

Rolling my eyes I waved to Lisa and the other nurses. “How’s today been?”

“Another good day,” she said with a wide smile. “If he keeps this up he might just get to go home.”

A sigh of relief slid past my lips as I smiled even wider. “Thank fuck. I love you guys but it’s really inconvenient having to schmooze the nurses for all-night passes.”

They all laughed and waved me off. “Shut up and get in there.”

Sasha watched me closely as we entered Peter's room, probably still a bit convinced I’d brought him here to steal his organs or something fucked up like that. I knocked on the wall and leaned around the corner a bit. “You up?”

Peter looked over at me looking surprisingly well. “I gotta wait for you, so obviously.”

“I brought someone with me. Is that okay?”

His eyes lit up as he sat up straighter in the bed. “A boy?!”

“Not like that, pervert!” Pulling Sasha into the room I gestured to Peter. “Sasha, this is Peter. My brother.” The man’s eyes went slightly wider with understanding as he took in the surrounding medical room. I gestured to Sasha and smiled at Peter. “Pete, this is Sasha. My work friend.”

Peter held his hand out and Sasha shook it with a slightly nervous look on his face. “It’s nice to meet you, Sasha. Thanks for putting up with her.”

Sasha snorted. “She’s quite a handful.”

There was a minute of silence between us, one that made Sasha's slight discomfort obvious. Peter relaxed back into his bed and gave my friend a reassuring look. “Don’t worry, I’m not contagious.”

“That’s good,” he replied, matching Peter's sarcasm. “I’d hate to have to wear that hideous hat.”

“I made him that hat!” I protested with an offended groan.

“It’s shit, so obviously you made it,” Sasha teased.

I laughed at him, slapping his arm. “So abusive! You should be nicer to me!”

Peter laughed from his bed, leaning over and pulling the slightly faded box out from the bag off to the side. “So, Sasha, do you like scrabble?”

“No.” He pulled up a chair and sat down beside the bed. “Let’s play it.”

“You in?” Peter asked me. He looked happy, glad that I’d followed his advice and opened up to at least one person from work. “Or you gonna chicken out again?”

I scoffed and hopped up on the bed, settling in across from him. “You’re going down, baldy.”

“Baldy?!” He hollered. “That’s insensitive.”

“I’m insensitive,” I answered.

“She is a real cunt,” Sasha agreed from the side, setting up his things.

Peter laughed, the sight of him so happy made me smile a bit wider. “As her older brother, I have to agree.”

I shook my head. “I expected better of you, Peter. Now I’m gonna have to kick your ass at Scrabble.”

Peter, Sasha, and I played a few rounds before chaos consumed the room. I was laughing on the bed, clutching my stomach as the muscles grew tense. Peter sat, smugly victorious yet again, with his arms behind his head while Sasha stood from his chair and pulled at the covers around my brother shouting in Russian a bit before insistently stating, “You cheat little sick boy!”

Peter only smiled wider. “I hardly think that’s necessary against two of the weakest opponents I've ever played Scrabble against.”

“I know a cheater when I see one! Where are you hiding them?”

“God I can’t breathe!” I giggled, nearly falling off the bed in a fit of laughter.

Peter shrugged his shoulders and looked at me. “You’ve got terrible taste in friends.”

I nodded, giving Sasha a loving look. “I know, at least he’s cute though.”

“Exotic too.”

“You two are monsters,” Sasha said flopping back into his chair and pointing at each of us. “Monsters and cheaters!”

“Oh don’t pretend you weren’t stuffing your jacket full of letters too, Russian boy!” Peter said, reaching over to tug on his sleeves. Letter tiles spilled, clacking to the floor. “We’re all cheaters here.”

I huffed and tossed my hair over my shoulder. “Speak for yourselves. I’d never stoop so low.”

“Shut the fuck up!” They both hollered.

After politely getting kicked out for disturbing the peace Sasha and I walked side by side down the dimly lit streets. He lit a cigarette and happily smoked as we moved. The night had gone better than I expected, though I should have known Sasha would be relaxed about things. He was dramatic, of course, but when it mattered he had your back. “So, did that answer your question?”

“One of them,” he answered with a smile. “Don’t worry, you’re still very mysterious.”

“Oh good, I’d hate to lose my fun appeal.”

“Why keep it a secret?” He asked blowing out a puff of smoke.

“I don’t want their pity.” I sighed. “Everyone that knows about Pete is close… like family. Every time I’ve told anyone outside of that they give me this look. Like I’m some poor child that they feel the need to protect. I don’t need that, especially not at work.”

Sasha nodded. “I understand. Like I said, your secrets are safe with me Tiger Bitch.”

I smiled and shoved him lightly. “Thanks, Russian Boy.”

He groaned. “You’re not calling me that.”

Sasha didn’t tell anyone of our night, not even when they pried and pleaded for the details of my mysterious life. He gave everyone a different answer each time they asked, steadily getting more ridiculous with it until people just stopped asking. It was this that ultimately led me to settle within the group. I interacted with everyone freely, staying around most nights to at least share after-shift drinks with them. They weren’t my closest friends, but maybe one day they would be.

When I arrived at work two weeks later Howard was waiting for me. “Good morning Howard.”

“Good morning Lena,” he answered stiffly. “Forgive me for springing this on you last minute, but I need you to work the front tonight.”

“You need another server?” I asked. “Planning on having a bad night?”

He sighed. “I’m not sure yet. We’re somehow overbooked, which never bodes well.”

“It’s a good thing you’ve got an extra pair of hands then. Don’t worry, Howard I’ll do my best to keep things from going to shit.”

Back in the locker room I put my cook's jacket back in my locker and straightened up the striped shirt underneath. I wasn’t a stranger to playing the field, as Howard called it during my interview, but I didn’t look forward to the night of service ahead of me. I knew exactly how to speak, stand and serve, knew the ins and outs of the position, but that wasn’t the issue… what was went a lot deeper than a few plates and fancy words. I took a deep breath and looked at myself in the mirror, tightening my ponytail slightly as I desperately tried to keep from dwelling on the past. You’re here for the future, none of that shit matters now. I told myself as I turned away from the mirror and headed downstairs.

Scott looked about as displeased about the sudden change as I did. He regarded my outfit with a shake of his head. “Bullshit that Howard’s just gonna pull you from the line last minute.”

“Yeah, sorry Chef,” I offered up standing and waiting for him to finish plating. “But that was kind of the position I got hired on for.”

“Still,” he huffed, not bothering to finish his train of thought. “These go to table 5.”

“Have a good service Chef,” I said as I easily loaded my arms up with the plates and moved out the kitchen door and toward the table.

It wasn’t complicated, but damn did the fake smiles and overly polite tones of voice really just fucking suck. When I approached my twentieth table of the night, my cheeks were sore and I was getting fed up with pretending to care about these rich idiots' food preferences. Table 14 was full of three people, all Asian and all looked unimpressed. I set the menus in front of them and smiled. “Sorry about the wait, we’re a bit overbooked tonight.”

The man furthest from me bowed his head a bit before he opened up his menu. “It is fine.”

“Is there a particular bottle of wine that you’re interested in drinking tonight? Warre’s 2000 Port Vintage has been especially popular tonight.”

He made a face but nodded. “That will suffice.”

I made a mental note of it and turned to go get the wine when he stopped me. “I believed we are ready to order as well.”

“Oh, okay what can I get started for you?”

The two closest to me ordered the same dish, but the older man hummed in thought. “What would you recommend?”

“The chicken wellington with a side of braised vegetables and garlic roasted potatoes is, in my opinion, truly exceptional.”

“That will suffice, thank you.” As he bowed his head and lifted the menu up toward me his pin caught the light, and my eyes nearly widened at the sight of the rainbow koi fish pinned to his tie. The memory burned bright in my mind as I accepted the menu with a smile and politely excused myself.

I sat at the bar, swinging my legs back and forth as I colored in the crude Koi drawing. The man sitting beside me leaned over and chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a rainbow Koi fish before.”

With a slight frown, I leaned closer to him and held my hand in front of my mouth to keep the bartender from hearing. “They’re not real.”

The old man gasped softly. “What? This is truly upsetting news.”

“I know,” I replied, admiring the bright colors of my drawing. “I cried for a whole day when my mommy told me.”

“Well,” he tapped the drawing. “At least you’ll always have this one.”

Smiling up at the old man my eyes glued to the brightly colored Koi pin he wore. “You have one too!”

With a chuckle, he touched the small trinket. “I suppose I do. Though it’s hardly as colorful as yours.”

I hummed softly. “Yeah, but it’s still pretty.”

“You seem familiar,” the man admitted.

“I wait here a lot,” I explained as I finished the final touches. “My mommy is very busy.”

He nodded with an understanding smile. “Yes, that may very well be why. Or perhaps you and I knew one another in another life.”

My brows furrowed as I looked up at him. “There’s more than one?”

“Some people think so,” he explained. “It’s believed that we live and die to begin anew based on our deeds in past lives.”

“Maybe we were fish in our past life,” I giggled.

“I think I would make quite a good fish.”

The bartender bowed his head to us and looked at me with a smile. “Your mother’s ready for you, Ms. Harrow.”

Hopping off my seat I held the drawing out to the older man. “You keep it.”

“Are you sure?” He asked. “It’s a lovely piece.”

I nodded. “I can make more.”

That had been my first run-in with the businessman and restaurant connoisseur Mr. Hiragana. He and I spoke often after that when I’d wait at the same bar for my mother. In the short years, I spoke with him, he told me everything he loved about food and wine, told me about how he planned to build a beautiful restaurant and share his family's recipes with the whole of Japan. I drew him pictures of koi fish while we sat and he took every last one of them.

“Howard,” I said softly, discarding my menus on the counter and joining him where he stood off to the side with Simone. She watched me closely, but I ignored her cold glare and continue speaking. “The man at table 14 is Katashi Hiragana. He’s a very prestigious Japanese entrepreneur. Dozens of restaurants and other businesses, food blogs, the works.”

Howard and Simone both looked over at the table before he waved over to the hostess. She brought him the scheduling book and he leafed through the pages for a moment. “I don’t see his name here.”

“You won’t. He uses a false name when he goes to new restaurants in the states. He’s known for being a picky eater, so he goes to the highly-rated restaurants in the area he’s in and tries them anonymously. If he doesn’t like the food or the service he never comes back, sometimes he leaves a bad review, but if he does like the food he makes the restaurant one of his routine visits when he visits.”

Howard looked at the table again, thoughtful and cunning. “What do you suggest then?”

I straightened up. “I want to give him wine from our Japanese selection, with compliments. The bottle I have in mind isn’t too expensive, but it’s one I think he’d enjoy. I also have a few ideas for Scott on how to make the meal more suited to his tastes.”

“How do you know what his tastes are?” Simone questioned, bitter doubt dripping in her voice. “How do you know any of this?”

All I offered her was a glance her way before looking back at Howard, who nodded to me with a smile. “Go ahead and make the changes. Providing the best experience for our guests is the priority.”

“Thank you.”

I hurried past them and into the kitchen. “Scott, I need something a bit off menu.”

The chef's eyes lit up as everything stopped. “Off menu? You serious?”

“Not off off menu, but definitely different from what we usually do.”

He tossed a rag over his shoulder and moved toward me. “I can fuck with that.”

“Good.” I grabbed a pen and notepad, jotting down the subtle changes that I knew would make this meal stand out, and looked up at him. “Think you can do it?”

His eyes scanned the paper and he smiled. “Hell yeah.”

As Scott shouted at the kitchen staff to fire the order up I went downstairs and leafed through the wine shelves until I found the dark bottle of 2000 Sainte Neige Muscat Bailey A. I squeezed it happily and returned upstairs, moving through the crowded and bustling lobby until I reached the table with a smile. I bowed and said, in Japanese, “Forgive me for the wait, Mr. Hiragana.”

The man seemed to be surprised by my swift change in language, as well as the knowledge that I knew who he was. Calmly, he responded. “You know me?”

“I know of you,” I corrected. “It is an honor to have you dine with us tonight.” Holding the bottle out for him to see I smiled. “A bottle of 2000 Sainte Neige Muscat Bailey A. Compliments of the staff.”

He smiled fondly at it, nodding to the glasses. "A fine vintage."

Pouring the rich liquid I offered him a kind smile. "The region is beautiful, truly one of the staples of your homeland."

"Have you been before?"

"Yes."

"Is that where you learned Japanese?" He asked in English as he swirled his glass, sniffing with a gleeful delight plain on his face. "You sound as though you were born speaking it."

I laughed, shaking my head and thanking him for his generous compliment. "I learned the language young. My family traveled a lot. Japan was one of our more frequent locations, one I loved. The hotels were always beautiful and the landscape even more so, but it was the people I met that made it worthwhile."

Mr. Hiragana took a sip of the wine and nodded happily, urging the others at his table to drink theirs as well. He looked up at me and narrowed his eyes. "You look familiar."

"Perhaps we've met in another lifetime," I offered up with a fond smile.

"Perhaps one not too long ago." He answered, recognition shining in his eyes.

I bowed again. "I'll go check on your food."

He returned the gesture. "Thank you."

Nicky waved me down quickly before I passed the bar. “Hey, I never do this, but my daughter's recital is tonight. Would you mind sticking around to help close everything up after drinks?”

“Absolutely,” I replied.

“You’re a lifesaver kid.”

“Don’t sweat it, Nicky,” I assured him as I moved back into the kitchen quickly. “Table 14 ready yet?”

Scott concentrated on a plate of food, adding the final garnishes to the dish. “Got it right here.”

I smiled down at the gorgeous plates of food and gathered them up into my arms. “Absolute art, Chef.”

“Fuck yeah it is.”

The plates tapped against the table lightly as I set each dish down in front of the people at the table. I stepped back and bowed deeply. “It has been an honor to host you this evening. Please, enjoy your meals.”

That night service flew by quickly, and despite the disadvantage, we all had from being overbooked every server came out well-tipped and happy. All of us clamored into the locker room and stripped ourselves of the confines of our uniforms. Sasha groaned as he tore his shoes off. “I never want to see that many people ever again in my life!”

“Agreed,” Heather huffed fluffing her hair and shaking her head. “That was absolutely ridiculous!”

“At least we came out with a shitload of tips,” Ari sighed, rolling her neck.

They all dressed quickly and hurried downstairs. “Let’s get fucking wasted!” Sasha yelled in the stairwell.

I rolled my eyes and continued to slowly reapply my regular attire. My arm got caught in my sleeve and a fair-skinned hand settled against my shoulder stopping me from the rough movements I had been making trying to fix it. Simone smiled at me. “May I?”

“Sure,” I said, cautiously.

Her eyes latched onto the long scar that marred the skin of my shoulder and part of me wanted to flinch… to hide from her scrutinizing and cold stare. She straightened out the fabric, loosening the twist or knot that had kept me from pushing my arm through. “There you go.”

“Thanks.” I slid my arm through and turned away from her, loose hair falling out of my loose ponytail as I leaned over to grab my jacket.

Her fingers gathered the loose hair, startling me with the soft and unexpected touch. “Let me.” She pulled the band from my hair and silently rebound it, securing the loose hairs back into place. “You did well today,” Simone said softly, her fingers tugging my ponytail tighter, an action that sent a quick jolt of pain and panic through my scalp and chest.

I moved away from her, breathing out a quiet, “Thank you.”

Still, she didn’t look pleased as her stiff-lipped smile made her eyes only look colder. “I still don’t know how you did it, but I hear Table 14 raved about their experience.”

“That’s good.”

“Yes,” she said. “The guests come first, after all.”

That same chill of anticipation that I felt on my second day rushed up my spine as she watched me. “Was there something you needed, Simone?”

"I found this in your hire file," Simone said, holding the photo. It was a simple thing, taken ages ago of Howard and I standing side by side smiling. I had a stupid apron on that said "future chef" and was covered in flour.

"That's a good picture of me," I said sarcastically. "We should frame it."

Simone simply smiled. "I just found it interesting to learn you knew Howard so closely."

Humming, I looked back up at her. "Oh, I see. You're trying to imply I slept with Howard to be here."

"You aren't exactly denying it."

"I don't have to." I shrugged. "If you want to believe that I did it, that's your right. I'm not going to break my back trying to convince you otherwise."

She blinked and that bright smile curved downward slightly. "I’m just concerned for you. People around here like to talk."

"And?"

“I wouldn’t want them to think less of you if they somehow found this."

"That’s very kind of you, but I don't care what anyone else thinks." I met her cold gaze with a smile. "Is there anything else you need to discuss with me?"

"No."

I passed her. "Thank you for the conversation."

Howard stood in the now-empty kitchen, thanking Santos for his work before he turned and offered me a kind smile. "You did exceptional as a server tonight. Mr. Hiragana has already confirmed his next visit and requested you see to his table personally."

"A high honor."

"One you deserve." He pointed to the photo. "What's this?"

Laughing I held it out to him. "Just the best picture ever."

He joined me in laughing. "Yes, not one of either of our finest fashion moments."

"That suit?" I joked. "Howard, what were you thinking?!"

With a quirked brow, he pointed to me. "The apron?"

"Touche,” I admitted as I moved past him toward the lobby.

"Not sneaking out tonight?"

Of course, Howard knew my habits. I simply shrugged. "I offered to give Nicky a break tonight."

"I'm sure he's grateful. Goodnight, Lena."

"Have a safe walk home, Howard."

22West had begun to feel more comfortable, something I hadn't expected when I asked for the job. Though I guess I had the people to thank for it. From behind the bar I watched them joke and laugh and let the struggles of the night wash away. It was a beautiful thing, watching life return to their eyes a little bit each minute. I laughed alongside everyone as I made them drinks and joined them in conversations. I was part of the group and it felt nice, even if there were some people I wouldn’t get along very well with.

Jake had been especially flirty, passing me ingredients and glasses with long lingering touches and whispered compliments. Though it felt nice, that feeling of desire and want when the crowd eventually thinned out and he and I remained to clean up the last of the glassware I felt the need to clearly state my intentions or lack thereof. “The flirting has been fun and all, but I feel the need to make sure you know that this isn’t going to happen.”

He looked at me with an amused smile. “What?”

“This,” I waved a hand between the two of us. “You can flirt with me all you want, but that’s as far as you’re gonna get.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” I set the newly polished glass aside and confidently held his gaze.

Jake shrugged, doing the same. “Could be fun.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it. You clearly know what you’re doing and I clearly know what I am, but I’ve done this song and dance before. A lot.”

His laugh was warm and light as he took a step towards me, cocky and clearly interested in pushing to see how set I was on the position. “A lot?”

I smirked. “Of course, the only way to know what you’re doing regarding sex is to practice.”

“We could swap stories,” he offered up. “Maybe practice some new moves.”

“Cute,” I said brushing past him to get another glass to polish. “Look, it’s nothing personal Jake. I’ve just been you before. So focused on anything to distract me from the shit I was dealing with that I forgot how it felt to… actually care.” I looked back at him. The humor had faded from his face and his eyes watched me, narrowed and set in hurt and frustration. “I don’t need to be distracted anymore.”

After a vulnerable moment of silence, he scoffed and pushed himself off the bar, walking until he stood right in front of me, crowding my space in an attempt to make me feel small. “You don’t know shit about me.”

I shrugged. “Maybe I don’t, but maybe I do and that scares you.”

“Didn’t expect you to be so full of yourself.”

“No?” I smiled. “I figured it was obvious. Guess I’ll have to dial it up.”

Though he didn’t show it outwardly, I could tell my calm phased him. He’d likely done this move before and gotten the big doe eyes and the timid step back, but he wouldn’t get that from me. Jake was the one to withdraw first, nodding me dismissively toward the door. “Go home.”

I set the glass I’d just finished on the shelf. “Don’t want help finishing up?”

“Nope.”

“Suit yourself.” I turned on my heel, grabbed my things, and tapped the bar. “Have a safe walk home.”

The sunlight warmed my cheeks as I stood looking up through the trees with a smile on my face. God, it felt good to have a day off, especially on a day like today. Sunny and warm and completely free to do whatever I wanted with. Anyone that knew me would already know exactly what my plans were for a day like this, my unpredictable days of adventure and poor decisions likely long behind me, but I didn’t care. I practically skipped down the steps and through the green door of the bar. “Good morning boys!”

The three large security men turned toward me with wide smiles as I deposited the bag of fresh pastries into their hands and watched them all fight over who got to pick first. “Hey, Lena!”

“The big man in yet?”

“In the office!” One of them groaned as they wrestled the others for the bag.

“Thank you!” I drew in a deep breath of the smoke-scented space. Jack and Ozzy’s was an old establishment, rich with history and all kinds of funky smells and sights. It was the place I’d learned to bartend, the place I first performed in front of a crowd, and the place threw my first drink in someone's face. I’d thrown up in every booth and bathroom stall, made friends at the bar, and cried the narrow hallways. It was a part of home for me, every scuff and torn seat.

The house lights were always dim, casting the large space of empty chairs and tables and booths in a haze of pale light. The bar was on the right, with the office tucked behind it and the stage, where the band that always played here was prepping their equipment, was on the opposite side. I tapped dads initials on the corner of the bar as I slid past and into the office where Ozzy sat with a phone in one hand and a cigar in the other. His shoulder-length silver hair contrasted against the black leather he wore. Leathery skin was now marred with dots and scuffs that matched the bar he lived and breathed so naturally.

His pale blue eyes lit up as he saw me enter and he held up a finger to let me know he was almost finished with his call. I set his bag of donuts on the desk next to him and started leafing through the week's shipment inventory list. When he finally hung up the phone I spoke, “You ordered more Whiskey? I thought we were drowning in that shit.”

“Eh, one of the new kids knocked a whole case over the other day.” His voice was light, definitely not what you’d expect him to sound like by looking at him. “It wasn’t too bad. We had enough to finish the week out, but I made sure to get more.”

“The good stuff too,” I observed as I reached over and stole a donut. “How’d the alternate band auditions go?”

“Horrible,” he groaned and moved the bag out of my reach. “Maybe it’s just me, but every one of these new gigs sounded like garbage.”

I laughed and sat down in the empty office chair beside him. “I doubt it’s you. The great Ozzy never misses real talent.”

He nodded. “Well, either way, we didn’t find anyone to fill in on Saturday nights.”

“Relax,” I soothed. “You always find the perfect fit right when you need them.”

“Here’s hoping.” Ozzy looked at me for a second and tilted his head. “Wait, isn’t today you’re day off?”

“Yep.”

“What the hell are you doing here then?” He questioned, snatching up the papers from my hands. “Shouldn’t you be out there living it up in the big city?”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ve lived it up quite a lot Oz. Besides, I like helping out around here. It’s fun.”

He shook his head. “Fun? Kids these days are hopeless.”

“Shut up old geezer and let me help.”

“Well, if you’re gonna insist,” he said with a chuckle. “You can help train the new guy.”

“Ugh!”

“How's that for fun.”

I swiveled my chair, an idea suddenly filling my mind. “How about instead I find you a musician?”

Ozzy looked up at me over his papers. “Think you know someone?”

“I might.”

“Bring em in tonight, we can have a trial run in between sets.”

Standing I offered him a salute and a bright smile, “On it old man.”

I rushed up the road toward the restaurant. Ari was going to love me after tonight. Slipping in through the back door I said quick hellos to all the cooks and hurried out toward the long dining table where everyone had gathered for Family Meal. Sasha had his arm curled around Heather and the two of them laughed and joked beside Ari and Will as they ate their food. Will saw me first, giving me a confused look. “Isn’t it your day off?”

“Yeah,” I said sitting down beside him and leaning over to get Ari’s attention. “Hey, how would your band feel about playing tonight?”

“Are you joking?” She asked practically jumping up out of her seat. “When? Where?”

“A place down the road like four blocks. Jack and Ozzy’s. They had their backup band fall out and need a new one. Audition’s tonight if you want it.”

Ari smiled widely and reached over to grab my hands. “Absolutely! You’re the fucking best!”

I pulled her off to the side and gave her the details. “Here’s the address, and time. Ozzy’s great, you’ll love him.”

“Is this a secret audition or can I invite people?” She asked looking at the piece of paper in her hand.

“You can invite anyone you want,” I replied. “Just don’t be late. Ozzy hates it.”

“You got it, boss!” She joked before squeezing my hand. “Thanks, Lena.”

“I’ll see you there!”

Jake didn’t usually let people get under his skin, well, at least not so openly, but from the start of the day to the bitter end of it he was in a foul mood and it seemed the whole crew knew why. Nicky slid him a drink and spared him a sympathetic, if not slightly amused, look. “Told you she’d rip you up.”

“She didn’t do shit,” he insisted.

“Sure.” His partner said quietly.

Ari rushed out of the kitchen with her usual group in toe. Jake leaned over and sighed, “What can I get ya?”

“Nothing tonight sweet Jakey,” Sasha said pulling his jacket on. “We’re going to Ari’s show!”

“Ari has a show?” He asked looking over at the clearly nervous girl. “Since when?”

“Since our lovely Tiger Bitch got one set up for her!” Heather said happily. “You’re welcome to come.”

Ari scoffed and glared at him. “Not like you will, you ditch every one of my shows.”

Jake smiled and made his way around the bar. “I’ll come.”

She tilted her head to the side. “What?”

Sasha squeezed her shoulder. “Oh, he’s only coming to try and get back into the Tiger's pants.”

They, of course, made fun of him, it was something they often did with everyone. Jake didn’t care much, they were easy enough to ignore as they piled into cabs and rode down to the older part of the city. As soon as they pulled up to the brightly lit bar they met up with each other and Ari’s band members at the entrance and approached the bouncer. “We should be on the list.”

“Name?”

“Ari.”

He nodded and counted heads. “They all with you?”

“Yeah.”

Stepping aside he let them pass through the green door and into the packed bar. The band was just finishing up their last set when they split away from Ari and found a booth near the bar. Jake liked the place, the lights, and the atmosphere, there were even a few attractive women. But, he really didn’t notice them much, not when his eyes shifted to the dancing crowd or more specifically the arm with a tiger tattoo illuminated by the lights. He shifted in his seat to get a better view of her familiar red hair and newfound exposed skin.

Lena was dancing with two other women, wearing a simple black top adorned with lace at the top and a short leather skirt that made her legs impossible to miss. She moved along with the beat, free and fun just like he’d imagined she would be outside of work. Her head snapped to the side where a larger man waved her over and pointed toward the bar. Without argument, she pulled her hair up and hopped behind the bar leaning over to take someone's order and flashing more of her cleavage. Jake was mesmerized by her. The way she moved as she made drinks behind the bar, the way her hair lit up in the lights, the way her green eyes shinned. Fucking hell she was something else.

It felt good to let loose after a long few weeks of nothing but work and hospital stays, but as I served the last drink and rejoined Prue and Quinn on the dancefloor I felt fucking amazing. Quinn, a gorgeous blonde-haired woman with blue eyes and a resting bitch face that could kill a man smiled at me. “Back from your second job already?”

Prue, a curly-haired tanned skinned knockout of a woman turned and smiled too. She brought her hands up so I could see them and signed an equally sarcastic reply, “Holy shit, and I thought we’d have to drag you out from behind the bar!”

“You’re both so funny,” I said and signed.

A heavy hand settled on my shoulder and Sasha's familiar Russian accent graced my ears. “Tiger Bitch!” He looked down the length of me and gasped. “Is this how hot you always are when you aren’t being a sneaky cunt?!

I rolled my eyes. “I’m especially hot when I’m being a sneaky cunt.”

“Work was so boring without your snarky ass there.”

“Aww, poor Sasha, having to survive one day bored.” I teased pulling him into my side and turning back to my friends. “This is Sasha. He’s a work friend.”

Quinn waved, “He seems like a real diva.”

“I am.” Sasha admitted with a devilish smile.

“This is Quinn, she’s also a diva. And this is Prue,” I signed a quick explanation to her. “She’s deaf, but she can read lips so behave.”

“It’s nice to finally meet Lee’s famous work friends!” Prue exclaimed, her arms wrapping around Sasha in an instant.

I laughed at Sasha's face of absolute horror. “She’s a hugger.”

He peeled her off of him and fixed his clothes. “Alright, well tell her to hug someone else.”

“Were you and Heather the only ones that came?”

“Jakey’s here as well. Will said he’d try to stop by and the kitchen was all nos aside from Scott.” Sasha pointed to the back booth. “They’re all over there, securing our seats until our dear Ari takes the stage.”

I followed his finger and locked eyes with Jake, who smirked and raised his glass to me. On any other occasion, I’d not feel anything about his presence here, but as Quinn and Prue looked over my shoulder I mentally cursed him for coming. “Is that him?”

Sasha turned with wide eyes and an open mouth “Has our little Lena been talking about Jakey outside of work?”

“No -”

“Don’t fucking lie!” Quinn scolded with an evil laugh. She looked back over at the booth and nodded. “He is absolutely your type by the way. Like my god, the hair, the beanie, the jacket.”

“And of course the broody attitude and shit personality.” Prue wiggled her eyebrows. “When are you planning on climbing into his lap? You know just so we can give you enough privacy and whatnot.”

“Yes! Climb into his lap! I would love to see the two of you make sweet, filthy love!” Sasha giggled.

I groaned. “I’m not climbing into anyone's lap!”

Quinn grabbed Prue’s hand and started off toward their table. “Let’s go say hi at least. We don’t wanna be rude to your work friends.”

I flipped her off. “Bitch.”

The only reason I followed them to the booth was to make sure they didn’t embarrass me with the loads of information they had gained from our years of friendship. Prue talked a lot of shit, but ultimately she’d keep the more embarrassing stories to herself. Quinn was the wildcard. She’d talk until you forced her to stop, and even then she’d find a way to keep going. I introduced them to the group and let them get settled. “What do you guys want to drink?”

“You working here?” Heather questioned.

I shrugged. “I help out sometimes when they get busy.”

“And they just let you behind the bar?” Jake pressed with a knowing look.

“My dad owned part of this place. It’s where I learned to bartend so yeah, they let me behind the bar.”

He nodded, very clearly pleased with the tidbit of information. “I’ll just take a beer.”

“Just get us all beers, and two more for Scott and Will, they should be here soon,” Heather said keeping her eyes on the door.

Jake stood and smirked at me. “I’ll help out.”

“You don’t have to.”

He just waved me off. Behind him Prue made a crude sign, essentially telling me to bone him. Rolling my eyes at her I turned my back to lead Jake toward the bar and flipped her off. I tapped my dads carving again and slid behind the bar digging for the drinks and instructing the new guy on where to find a knife. Jake looked around. “This is a nice place.”

“Yeah, been around for fucking ever.” I agreed setting things in front of him.

“Lena,” Ozzy called from the office doorway as he moved out with a paper. “Did you add that gin to our shipment?”

I turned and looked over the list, pointing to the gin. “Yeah, you wanted the Nords right?”

He nodded. “Perfect!” Ozzy looked up at Jake and then down at me with raised brow. “Sorry, did I interrupt something?”

“God not you too.”

“I’m just helping her with the drinks.”

Ozzy stepped closer toward Jake, extending a hand. “I’m Ozzy. You must be that Jake.”

Fuck. I slapped a hand over my face as Jake’s smugness became palpable in the air around him. “I am indeed that Jake.”

“The girls have been talking bout you nonstop,” Ozzy added.

Jake looked over at me, hardly able to contain his laughter. “Have they?”

I patted Ozzy’s arms. “Move big fella, I gotta get out from behind here so I can go shove my head through a wall.”

Ozzy slid back to let me pass. “What? Was I not supposed to say anything?”

“Goodnight Oz,” I grumbled grabbing as many of the bottles as I could manage before turning and leaving the rest for Jake. I set them down on the table and glared at Prue and Quinn. “You two are so fucking dead.”

They both laughed when Jake came into view. “Oz is the worst with discretion.”

“You’re no better!”

“There’s an easy fix to this,” Quinn signed. “Fuck. Him.”

Prue giggled. “Fuck him! You know you want to.”

I looked away from them as Scott and Will arrived. Prue waved her hand in my face trying to get my attention. Without turning I signed, “I’m ignoring you.”

Her hand returned with a middle finger in my face as Jake just leaned back and smirked. “So, you mentioned me to your friends?”

“I talked about you twice,” I admitted. “And before you ask, no it wasn’t to gush about how badly I wanted you. I just told them you flirted with me and I flirted back. And that you'd make a decent friend if you weren't so grumpy. That’s it.”

Quinn made a noise. “I mean that wasn’t it…”

I reached over and put a hand over her mouth. “Ignore her.”

He nodded. “Whatever you say.”

God he’s going to be unbearable now. Heather came back to the table. “Ari’s on, come on!”

All of us headed to the dance floor, where Ari took the stage and began preforming. She was good, just the right amouth of loud and talented, Ozzy would definitely be telling her to come back as a regular. We danced together, everyone but Jake who’d taken up a spot at the bar, clearly too good to dance with his coworkers. After a few songs, I looked up, expecting to see his flirty eyes watching me, as they had been almost all night, but instead, I saw an empty stool.

“Where’d Jake go?” I asked scanning the bar again.

Sasha gestured toward the back door. “He went for a smoke.”

“Out that door?” I pressed.

“I think so.”

“Fuck,” I cursed as I wove through the crowd toward the door.

Hurrying up the steep steps I opened the door to the chilled night air just in time to catch Dom, my old drug dealer and the resident dealer for the block, shoving Jake. God damn it. “Come on pretty boy, take a swing.”

“Leave him be, Dom.” I walked up the stairs shaking my head and stepped beside Jake.

Dom smiled at me and tilted his head. “Why should I?”

“Because I asked so nicely,” I said, batting my eyes.

Jake scoffed. “If he wants a fight I’ll -”

Dom took a step forward just as I stepped between the two men and met Dom’s gaze. “He’s an idiot, but not one that needs an ass-kicking from you.”

“He seems to want one.”

“He’s weird like that,” I said leaning back into Jake’s chest to keep him from moving. “Come on D. Just walk away. I’d hate to have to bust up that pretty face.”

He laughed, and his boys followed. “Never change Leanin Lena.”

“You too,” I replied watching as they made their way out of the alley, and back toward the bikes that were parked along the exit.

Jake let out an angry breath. “I had that handled.”

I nodded, turning to look at him. “If a beating was the goal then yeah you did.”

“I could’ve taken that guy.”

“Dom? Absolutely. The forty bikers he’s got attached to his hip, I don’t think so.” Jake looked away from me, still angry. I shook my head. “Come on tough guy. If you’re looking for a place to smoke you gotta go over an alley.”

I hopped up the stairs opposite the bar that led to the old boxing place next door and looked over at him. For a minute I didn’t think he’d follow, but he did. I bumped the sticky door open with my hip and stepped inside the small back room as Jake followed behind me. The air in here always smelt like copper and leather, most likely from the beatings that some of the people took while they were in the ring. The sound of chains creaking and bags taking heavy hits echoed as I led us toward the main space where three well-built men covered in sweat grunted and groaned as they practiced their hits and swings.

The Ring was older than me by a lot, a place that held a lot of my family's history. The walls were plain with spots of old paint and peeling wallpaper, but they were one of my favorite parts of the place because they were filled with old posters and pictures, and mementos of those trained and boxed here. It felt like being in one giant time capsule. Off to the left of the door Jake and I walked out of was the giant padded ring, and there in the center were two of the training boxers facing off. The coach stood on the sidelines, directing each of their movements and walking them through the basics, not unlike what my dad had done for me.

“Lena?” the Irish voice questioned from the front of the building.

“Hey Patrick,” I called out, moving around the small tables and lockers toward him.

“Come to give these boys a real challenge?” He laughed loudly, enveloping me in a hug the second I was close enough for him to grab. Patrick was the new owner of this place and a friend. He and I grew up together and he’d been there for me through a lot of my darker years.

His copper hair tickled my nose as he set me down. “Not tonight. I’m just showing him,” I pointed a thumb back at Jake. “To the smoking alley.”

“He run into Dom?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Mans been in a shit mood this week,” Patrick observed returning to cleaning the floor. “Watch your back out there, Lena.”

“Thanks for the tip!” I continued walking toward the locker room, giving one of the boys practicing on a punching bag a pat on the way. “Keep your wraps tight, Jer.”

He cursed and moved back to rewrap the loosening fabric. “Thanks, Lena!”

Hanging above the locker room door was the brightly painted name Jack “The Hammer” Harrow with his old gloves hanging below. I lifted my hand and ran it over the smooth leather of them as I passed through the doorway and looked back to make sure Jake was still behind me. He looked up at the gloves and paused for a moment before I tugged on his sleeve. “This way, tough guy.”

We were met immediately with steam and the bare asses of one of the groups that always came late to practice. I moved through the misty room unphased, joking around with a few of the guys I knew as I passed them until we finally reached the back door. Swinging it open with an exaggerated flare I grinned, waving a hand toward the dingy couch and chairs that adorned the closed-off back alley. “Ta-da. I believe this will suit your smoking needs.”

He looked around for a bit, picking up a few magazines left over by whoever used it last, and nodded. “Wow.”

“It’s pretty fancy, I know.” He sat in one of the chairs, pulled the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, and lit one. The smoke billowed out of his mouth as he looked at me with a curious gaze. “Well, you seem comfortable so I’m gonna head out now.”

“You grew up around here?” He asked before I could even turn to leave.

I shook my head. “My dad and my brother did. I moved in with them when I was sixteen.”

“Why?” He asked.

All he got in return was silence and a short stare as I turned to leave. “Try not to piss off any more drug dealers.”

I heard his heavy footsteps following after me before his lean figure settled in next to me. Jake quickly regained his breath and continued smoking as he looked over at me. “Least I could do is walk you home.”

“Oh, how generous of you.”

“What can I say, I’m a real stand-up guy.”

“I’m not gonna play twenty questions with you.”

He shrugged. “Alright, how bout ten?”

“No.”

“Five?”

“No.”

“Three?”

“Jake,” I laughed. “We aren’t friends.”

He nodded. “Maybe not, but you did say I would make a good one.”

I cocked my head to the side and gave him a look. “You want to be friends with me?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “That so unbelievable?”

“Considering you’ve been trying to get me out of my clothes since we met, kinda.”

Jake smirked. “I never said I’d stop trying to get you out of your clothes, I just said we could be friends.”

“Ahh,” I looked forward at the bright lights and crowds of people. “Okay. You get two questions.”

“This mean we’re friends?”

“This means I’ll consider it.”

“Fair enough.” He took a long drag of his cigarette breathing it out before he spoke again, “Alright, first question. What the fuck is Leanin Lena?”

I laughed. “It’s a boxing title. I got mine after my first official match, for leaning, obviously.”

He nodded along. “You box?”

“Is that your second question?”

“Oh, so you’re gonna be a bitch about it?”

“Of course I am,” I said with a smug smirk.

Jake shook his head and laughed. “Fine, second question. You don’t smoke, do drugs or drink nearly enough, or fuck around so what do you do for fun?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You don’t really need any of that to have fun, you know that right?”

He shrugged. “That’s how I’ve always had fun.”

“Even when you were younger?”

For a minute he looked a little sad, but it was over too quickly to tell as he recovered with a smile. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“That’s sad.” I knew the type of pain that came with being robbed a childhood, and it seemed Jake did too. Lucky for me I had my dad and Ozzy and Peter and all my friends to help give me somewhat of that normalcy. I reached out and tapped his arm before jumping away from him with a laugh. “You’re it.”

“I’m it?”

“Yeah, you know tag the game?”

He quirked his brows. “You’re trying to play tag with me? That’s a bit childish isn’t it?”

“Some of the best ways to have fun are,” I replied with a nod. “You gonna play or do I win already?”

Jake took a while to consider his options for a minute before he took a long step toward me, clearly expecting me to let him reach out and tag me. I moved out of the way and smiled even wider. He took an even greater step toward me, but I moved again. “Seriously?”

I scoffed. “Did you think I was just gonna stand around and let you tag me?”

“Come on, I’m not gonna chase you around like some schoolboy.”

“Then I guess you’ll be it forever.”

When Jake burst into a full sprint forward I turned on my heel and started running down the mostly empty sidewalk. The two of us laughed as we wove through people and around cars until Jake finally caught up with me. His arms wrapped around my middle and he lifted me up off my feet as he slowed to a stop, huffing from the exercise. “You’re it.”

Once he set me down I turned and grinned at him. “That answer your question?”

“You’re insane.”

“It was fun though, wasn’t it?”

For the first time since I’d met him, Jake’s smile seemed happy, the gleam in his eyes even more so. “Maybe a little.”

Nodding toward the building we were a few steps away from I said, “This is me.”

“Alright. So, do I pass your weird little consideration test?”

I nodded. “I guess.”

“So friends?”

“Ah-ah, you gotta ask me properly.”

He groaned, shaking his head and looking around. “Lena, will you be my friend?”

“Hmm…” I pretended to think about it as I walked up my stairs. I turned at the top and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be your friend Jake.” He turned and started walking back down the sidewalk, grumbling about how weird I was. “Hey!” I hollered, making him turn around to look up at me. "Night, Jerk."

He shook his head but smiled anyway. "Night Lana."

The next morning was absolute chaos. I walked through the back door, dodging as people ran around to get the trash taken out and the shelves organized. “Holy fuck.” I mumbled moving toward Scott. “What the hell is going on?”

He looked just as stressed as the others as he looked over the produce. “The owner decided to make a surprise visit.”

“Fuck.” My heart beat quicker in my chest as I looked out the kitchen windows to find Maddie and Howard moving toward the kitchen. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I practically sprinted over to the table and set my hands on top of it loudly, gathering the attention of the back room, where everyone even the servers and bartenders seemed to be hiding out. “You’re all about to find out something about me. If you save your questions and comments til the shift ends I’ll buy all of you drinks.”

Everyone mumbled some form of agreement before the doors swung open and a chill ran up my spine. “So, the prodigal student has returned after all.”

I turned and offered her a smile, taking in the slight changes to her face and the new length of her hair as she beamed at me. “Looks that way, doesn’t it.”

She opened her arms up. "Get in here and give your aunt a hug."

#Nightshade #sweetbitter jake x oc #jake x lena #jake smut #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitter jake #sweetbitter simone #sweetbitter smut #sweetbitter #sweetbitter sasha #sweet bitter #sweetbitter howard #sweetbitter ari #sweetbitter heather #sweetbitter Scott #sweetbitter original characters

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