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Absolutely incoherent.

#inspo #mon papa

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#writing memes

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#true blood #true blood asmr #boredom #eric northman #eric northman x reader #eric northman asmr #Youtube

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ALEXANDER SKARSGARD as ERIC NORTHMAN

TRUE BLOOD (2008—2014 ) Season 7, Episode 9

#inspo

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How to keep writing with ADHD

Having ADHD as an aspiring writer can be really difficult and frustrating.

I just want to add a quick disclaimer that I have not been diagnosed with ADHD myself, but I have worked with several clients who struggled with this, and done some research online to compile a few tips you might be able to implement in your writing! (I will also link to some articles I read at the end of this post).

So let’s go!

Turn off the internet This popped up as one of the most common pieces of advice for ADHD writers. Eliminating distractions can be hard, but turning off your wifi altogether might help with at least a few of them. Train yourself to disconnect when it’s writing time, and see whether this affects your productivity positively!

Delay the research This can be really difficult if you’re writing historical fiction, or anything set in an area that requires some level of prior knowledge to write about. But, wherever possible, if you can save yourself pausing to research whether a certain item or word is plausible for you to use in that specific moment, then you should. Leave it, make a quick note that that’s something to research later, and keep going.

Test out radical changes Something that came up as a common downfall was losing interest halfway through the project, or dropping it after the first chapter. If you find yourself losing interest in the project, maybe try out making a radical change to a part of your plot, one that might inspire you for the story once again. Of course, make sure that this change fits in with the rest of your story as you begin to implement it.

Succinct & clear goals This is something I recommend to any writer or artist of any kind! Keep your goals as clear and small as possible. The more specific you are with a goal, the less overwhelming it will feel. Think of breaking down a big goal of “I’ll finish my book this year” into “I’ll finish 5 chapters this month” or even “1 chapter this week.” Go as small as is comfortable for you!

A fine line between plotting & exploring This is an issue that comes up very often for writers who have a tendency to get bored with their projects if they don’t keep some element of surprise to it. I’d recommend finding a good balance between how much you plot out, and how much you allow yourself to discover along the way. Find your most important plot points, and let your creativity fill in the gaps!

Tools to help you out Stay on task - browser extension that checks in on you at timely intervals to make sure you’re working on your chosen task Ommwriter - atmospheric simple writing program, with typewriting sounds & ambience Stayfocusd - browser extension to block time-wasting websites Nanowrimo.org - community challenges, self-set goals, achievement badges, progress tracking The Emotion Thesaurus: A Writer's Guide to Character Expression - a book to help with expressing emotion in a show-not-tell way

Further reading from some ADHD fiction writers themselves:

The ADHD guide to writing https://booklaunch.com/the-adhd-guide-to-writing/

Tools & tricks for writers with ADHD https://larawillard.com/2018/03/02/tools-tricks-for-writers-with-adhd/

Feel free to share your own advice in the comments below to help out other authors!

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Marvel Zombie/Post-Apocalypse AU

Pairing ➢ Possible Bucky Barnes x F!Reader or Thor x F!Reader

Warnings ➢ swearing

Summary ➢ As Dr. Van Dyne and Dr. Banner’s faithful lab assistant, you are often afforded certain privileges that others are not. So when an emergency calls the majority of you superiors away, you are forced to make a life-changing decision that alters your lives and the lives of everyone you know forever.

Author's Note ➢ five chapters posted so far.

AO3

#reader insert #marvel fanfic #marvel au #mcu au #bucky barnes x reader #thor odinson x reader #tony stark #hope van dyne #bruce banner #michelle jones

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Didn’t Mean To (one-shot) / N. Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: none

Summary: It’s been a while, but you’ve finally found her again.

♪ banks – bedroom wall ♪

“Well one thing’s for certain, I am impressed.”

You stop washing your hands at the bathroom sink, and become almost paralyzed at the familiar, husky voice coming from behind.

The night is young and you were hiding out in a pretty bathroom, with dim lighting and luxurious sinks. It sure does set the mood. You thought you could find a spot where no one else would be. To gather your thoughts and to gather your nerve. You should have known she would find you.

Keep reading

#natasha romanoff x reader

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Midnight City - Masterlist

Welcome to my vignettes and eventual tale of Midnight City. Everything is intertwined, people are either grey or dark and somewhere in between.

I'll be updating the vignettes three at a time and I'll update this list as we continue forward.

Summary | Being at the wrong place at the wrong time has consequences.

Vignettes:

The Hunt

Aftermath

Power

Mirror

After Hours

Over

#I don't know what this is about but im here for it

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Did y'all know I write paranormal urban fantasy books?

I will happily send PDF/Epub versions to people for free. I'd appreciate a review in exchange (preferably Goodreads or Amazon), but it's a completely non-conditional offer (so, even if you don't want to review the book, I'll still send it!)

People who enjoyed the Anita Blake, True Blood, and Blood Ties Series would probably like them—they've been likened to True Blood a few times by people.

So far, the first three in the series are out in the wild, but there are more on the way!

If you're interested in reading the Scarlet Cherie: Vampire Series, just send me a message or ask and we can arrange it!

Want to know more? Here are some reviews:

P.s—if you reblog this, I'll give u a lil vampire kiss <3

(They are also all available to purchase as paperbacks or on Kindle and are also on Kindle unlimited)

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(gif credit: @steverobin)

In Memoriam // Hunted (Prologue)

warnings: none

The street's a liar

I'm gonna lure you into the dark

My cold desire

To hear the boom, boom, boom of your heart

The danger is I'm dangerous

And I might just tear you apart

Oh, ah, oh

I'm gonna catch ya

I'm gonna get ya, get ya

Oh, ah, oh I wanna taste the way that you bleed, oh

You're my kill of the night

an undisclosed amount of time from now, sometime in the possibly near and/or certain future…

Lizzie 1. Inter-dimensional Demonic being 0. Maybe all those springs doing cross-country weren’t completely pointless after all. One more turn of a corner, and she’s finally put some distance between them. With all this running down the halls of the high school, she just wishes she wore running shoes that weren’t as pinched at the toes.

Something that looks like a man, but isn’t a man is hot on her tail and they aren’t letting her get away so easily, without a fight.

Another mad dash around a corner, when she suddenly bumps into a heavy, solid figure. For a second, she thought she was screwed, but she’s relieved to find it’s just you.

…

“Oh hey Mrs M,” the teenage girl says, between winded breaths, as you hold onto one another for balance.

“Lizzie.” You’re out of breath yourself, having just taken care of this guy’s friend.

“Right behind me,” she blurts out, just as the humanoid, figure materializes and reveals it’s hideous, inhuman face. Before letting out one of the loudest, death rattling scream you’ve ever heard.

You quickly, push her aside so you can take care of it.

“Got it.”

Without wasting any time, you whip out your blade and drive it straight through them. Watching as they explode into a cloud of ghastly, black smoke.

Your favourite part about the hunt. Watching their physical form disintegrate when you send them back to Hell. Least favourite is probably the sulphur smell.

“Nice one, Mrs. M.” Lizzie lowers her arms from her face, as you realize she’s on the floor. She nearly gags from the smell.

“Come on,” you say offering her your hand, before pulling her up with ease.

“One more down. Only a thousand or so to go.”

You know she’s exaggerating, but you can’t help but grimace. “God, I hope not.” You’re growing tired of the constant threats on your life and the town as of late. At the same exact time, Hope and Josie appear around the corner of the school.

“All good, guys?” The way Hope still looks at you, even now. Like she’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“Yeah,” you say, sheathing your weapon back in its holster. Smoothing a hand over her hair, you smile at the young girl.

Lizzie starts brushing off her clothes. “Being bait and unable to defend yourself is literally the worst thing. Outfit’s ruined,” she adds.

“At least you were cute bait.” Josie attempts to cheer up her sister.

“Thanks sis...But seriously? I mean we can siphon a demon, but our magic is useless against them. Who comes up with this crap? There should be someone downstairs we can talk to about this.”

Hope and Josie exchange amused glances.

“Alright ladies.” You begin directing them back toward where you all came.

“Let’s get back to the school before anyone notices you’re gone. I don’t want your dad laying into me again.”

Lizzie folds her arms. “Ugh, who cares? He complains about everything.”

“I follow his rules, out of respect for Caroline and the two of you. Plus, I made her a promise…”

“You didn’t follow his rules tonight,” Josie reminds you, with a devilish smirk.

“No, I didn’t,” you admit. “But it was an emergency. I’ll follow em, next time.” You pat Jos on the back in a teasing manner, as the four of you start walking toward the exit.

"Maybe text him at least, to let him know you aren’t dead," you add.

If you know Alaric as well as you think you do, you know he’s likely noticed something was up by now. Your eyes fall to Hope up ahead, chatting with the other two girls.

Call it a parent’s intuition.

#the originals fanfiction #the originals au #the original family #the originals #legacies cw #hope mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader

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in memoriam // masterlist

warnings: spoilers for the ending of S5 of The Originals ONLY.

rating: T and up...but don't quote me

tags: au, canon divergence, demons, afterlife, grief, loneliness, original characters, additional other worldly beings, use of flashbacks and flashforwards

author's note: I was inspired by so many pieces of media when creating this. I think you can all guess most of them. Thanks for reading!

lay your flowers. say goodbye. when the devil is dead, even angels sigh.

summary: Back in Virginia, Hope struggles with her new life as an orphan, all the while longing for a more familial connection with someone she used to be close to. On the other hand, you struggle with being taken seriously as her guardian, while also dealing with loss of your own.

Pairings: Hope & Stepmom!Reader, (past) Klaus Mikaelson x F!Reader

Hunted (Prologue

Haunted - TBA

Pandora's Box -TBA

#reader insert #the originals #legacies #legacies cw #the originals au #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson #the originals spoilers #spoilers #the originals season 5 spoilers

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Didn’t Mean To (one-shot) / N. Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: none

Summary: It’s been a while, but you’ve finally found her again.

♪ banks – bedroom wall ♪

“Well one thing’s for certain, I am impressed.”

You stop washing your hands at the bathroom sink, and become almost paralyzed at the familiar, husky voice coming from behind.

The night is young and you were hiding out in a pretty bathroom, with dim lighting and luxurious sinks. It sure does set the mood. You thought you could find a spot where no one else would be. To gather your thoughts and to gather your nerve. You should have known she would find you.

At first, you thought it possible she wouldn’t even remember you. That or she just wouldn’t care…but she’s purposefully sought you out, at such an extravagant party. It gives you a small amount of hope.

You look up in the mirror, to see the redhead against the archway of the restroom. She crosses her arms casually as she leans against it, keeping her distance.

So this is what the real her looks like. Different shades of red, from her hair, to her lips, to the blush on her cheeks. In an elegantly cut, form fitting white dress. Clearly not one to disappear in a crowd.

The Natasha Romanoff.

You only watch her through the mirror at first, but it’s enough to set your pulse racing.

“Finding me and gaining access to this party, can’t have been easy,” she continues.

She’s giving you a compliment, but when you don’t respond immediately, you can see a bit of dejection on her face as she glances away for the moment. It’s something you don’t expect, so you try and lighten the mood.

“Shouldn’t have told me your real name,” you quip back. It’s an old instinct, but the lighthearted banter always made her smile.

Natasha looks up at you now, a more lively gaze in her eyes.

“I’m sure you would have found it out soon enough,” she responds with a smirk. You don’t whether she means to compliment you again or allude to her newfound fame. Then, her face changes. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

A part of you wants to scream. How can she be so dismissive, yet you can still remember what her touch felt like? Her perfume. The way she looked when she moaned your name in the dark. Now, she keeps her distance. You would think none of it had happened at all.

“I know,” you admit, turning around and leaning back against the sink. To face her on fully for the first time in months. You told yourself similar on the ride over.

“Well, you got my attention so let’s hear it.” Natasha crosses her arms, waiting for your declaration. Shit, you’ve come all this way. You might as well.

“I know what I’m doing is risky and insanely idiotic of me,” you start. “…but I have to know. I feel like you at least owe me this.”

She doesn’t miss a beat. “What do you want to know?”

Her question is so direct and to the point, you start second guessing whether to even ask it or not. Afraid you may not like her answer. Perhaps just this one time, not knowing is better than the truth.

“Y/N…”

“Was any of it real?” you eventually choke out, because somehow losing her attention, is worse than looking pathetic in front of her.

Natasha sighs. “That is a complicated question, Y/N.” Her words are slow, but deliberate. Seeing her behave this cold and aloof, is messing with your psyche more than you thought it would.

“Not to me,” you shake your head.

She steps closer, possibly in an effort to placate you. Maybe she senses your displeasure, at her reluctance to answer. Then she stops.

“Well none of it was real,” she replies matter-of-factly. “But also all of it was.”

You let out a small chuckle. “Leave it up to you to make a simple answer, so confusing.”

“I didn’t think it was that confusing,” the woman shrugs.

“No, of course you wouldn’t.” You can’t help but to let out a small chuckle.

“Hey, don’t patronize me,” she gives you a small, bashful, smile, and for a moment, you see a glimpse of the woman you use to know. Your chest aches when you remember that she isn’t even real. The woman in front of you now is a trained spy. It’s hard to forget how quickly she was able to shut it off, when it was time to go your separate ways. how fast she changed from loving girlfriend, to cold, methodical agent.

You then become cold yourself. “You were so good at making me think you actually cared.”

“It was the job.”

Someone enters the bathroom, and you glance behind her at all the guests enjoying the party. Some Avengers, but mostly other wealthy and accomplished people.

“This was probably a waste of time.” You start forward, so you can brush past her, out the door, but Nat’s voice stops you.

“At least stay for the party. You’re already here.”

You pause. She didn’t give you the answer you had hope for, but at least she wasn’t telling you to leave.

“I hear the appetizers here are pretty great.”

***

As the night drones on, you try your best to enjoy yourself. You mingle somewhat and introduce yourself to new faces.

Natasha’s eyes never fall on you once, and if they do, it’s as if she doesn’t even see you at all. Still, you find yourself unable to look away. Without even trying, she pulls you in. It’s probably the same for a lot of others and you hate yourself for falling victim to it.

Eventually, you find your way to a seat at the bar. You order your favourite drink and plan on nursing it until you’ve had enough of watching your ex act like you don’t exist. That’s when the man you know to be Steve Rogers, approaches the bar. Thor isn’t too far behind him. They both give you polite smiles in greeting, but turn their focus to the bar.

“What can I get you, sir?” the bartender asks.

“Nat wants another drink. No beer this time.” Steve seems conflicted as he turns to Thor. “Not sure what to get. Think she’s a whisky gal?”

You let out a small chuckle at the question, which catches Steve’s attention.

“You’re better off avoiding the hard stuff,” you answer for him. “For someone so tough, she really likes her fruity, mixed drinks.”

“Something sweet I guess.” Steve nods toward the bartender. He then turns to you. “You know Natasha?” he asks.

You don’t get to respond. It’s her voice that you hear from behind you.

“She’s a friend from another life.” Suddenly, Natasha has appeared beside you, resting her arm on the bar ledge.

You’re the only one seated, and still she plants herself beside you, like it’s nothing. Clearly, being that close isn’t hard for her, like it is for you.

“Another Widow?” Steve questions.

You vaguely know what he’s referring to. The other Black Widows.

“Thankfully, no. Not as long as she keeps her distance.”

You stiffen at her words. She’s talking through you, yet she still seems to be aware of it.

“Kidding,” she muses softly, but you aren’t in the mood for jokes.

“Lovely to make your acquaintance,” Thor offers you his hand to shake, and a charismatic grin.

“Likewise,” you smile back, but you can’t bring yourself to be truly warm, with the proximity between

The four of you all go quiet. Thor doesn’t seem to notice, but Steve can clearly sense the tension

“Your drink, Miss Romanoff.” The bartender hands her the drink and you decide it’s the perfect time to take your leave.

God, you need to get away. You aren’t as good as she is at pretending. So, you head towards a balcony you see up ahead, wanting to be alone again.

“Hey, I didn’t catch your name.”

You turn to see Steve Rogers standing there behind you.

“Oh, everyone calls me Y/N, and don’t worry. I know who you are.”

“Of course,” he laughs, clearly embarrassed by his celebrity.

“She lied about us being old friends by the way. I was one of her marks. Targets, whatever.” You don’t care about keeping it a secret anymore.

You watch as his face takes on a look of panic.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” you assure him. “I’m not here to cause trouble. I was just curious.”

“About what exactly?” Steve inquires. He’s beside you now, so you turn to face him fully.

“About the real Natasha I guess.” You shrug. You wanted to know what she was like without the facade.

Steve pauses for a good moment. “What makes you think you never met her?”

You say nothing as, he continues. “Nat is a lot of things, but she’s never sentimental…”

“Yeah…” you agree.

“….with people she doesn’t care for,” He finishes.

“So you’re saying what?”

Steve sighs. “I honestly don’t know what I’m saying. Just that I don’t think you’d still be here if she didn’t want you to be.”

“She invited me to stay, but I think she just feels guilty,” you shrug.

“Well, I think if she really wanted you gone, you would be.”

“Wish I could say that means much. Maybe I’m just so insignificant, that she’s beyond caring what I do.”

“I’ll admit it’s possible,” Steve offers.

“No need to worry. I can take a hint, Captain,” you nod. “I won’t be here much longer.”

***

When Steve finds Natasha, she’s chatting it up with Tony. He lets them finish their conversation first, before he saunters over to her. Once Tony is completely out of earshot, Steve turns to Nat again.

“You messed up, didn’t you?”

“Can you be more specific, Rogers?” Nat turns to him. “You’re starting to sound like me.”

“You weren’t supposed to get attached, but you did.”

“Ah…” Nat smiles in realization.

“Why is she still here?” Steve questions.

“If only I knew.”

“Oh bullshit. I think you do know, you just won’t admit it.”

“Why are you trying to analyze me?”

“And why are you so stubborn?” Steve retorts.

Natasha stands firm with her arms crossed, staring up at her friend. Is she being stubborn or is she just being safe. Vancouver was a job to her. At least, that’s what she kept reminding herself, and although she was able to keep it business as usual, as she said her goodbyes. Didn’t look back once, like she had done plenty of times before. Except this time, she fell for someone. For you. She didn’t mean to. It was more of an unintended consequence/side effect.

“Fine. Keep pretending to not know what I’m talking about,” Steve concedes.“Your girl’s on her way out. I think she’s had enough.”

Nat follows Steve’s eye line, to catch the streak of hair, headed toward the elevator.

“Have you said all you needed to say?” He asks. “Cuz I’d say there’s a good chance she won’t turn up again. Not here or anywhere.”

Steve’s words hit her suddenly, like a fist to the gut. Sure, finding you again if she wanted to would be child’s play, but the thought of you being completely done with her for good, leaves a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Natasha doesn’t stick around to offer him a rebuttal. She takes off quickly, toward the next available elevator.

***

do i have to write it on your bedroom wall, you fool?

Enough time has passed since your bar encounter with Nat, and she’s since left you alone. Your small talk with Steve almost made you a little optimistic, but her actions gave you reason not to be. It all feels like a lost cause. She’s indifferent toward you. You think about staying, but what’s the point? You know better than to force yourself where you aren’t wanted. You head toward the ground level and towards the coat check, to pick up your things.

“Leaving so soon?”

You glance to your left to watch Nat slowly approach the counter, beside you.

“Don’t look so surprised,” you sigh. “But yeah. I guess I’ve run out of reasons to stick around.”

“Let me at least see you off to your ride,” Nat offers.

Why does she insist on torturing you in

In front of you, the attendant places your things on the counter. He gives you a polite nod off, as you turn back to your ex with reluctance. “I’m going to have to pass, Natasha. I just think we should end this here.”

Her green eyes flash the briefest For the first time tonight, she looks truly wounded by your words.

“Well, alright. If you insist.” Natasha reaches for your bag for you. Instead of just handing it to you, she places your purse over your shoulder herself. Fingers brushing your bare arm and a part of you thinks, she knows exactly the effect she has on you.

“You’re a cruel woman, do you know that?” you say, with a bitter laugh. You’re teasing, but not entirely.

“That hurts a lot, coming from you.”

“But it is warranted, wouldn’t you say?”

Her mouth quirks into a slight grin. She’s still lightly touching you as she speaks. “And here I was thinking you liked me.”

“Gosh, you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“You’re trying to flirt with me.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” Nat laughs, and you find yourself feeling even more confused than before.

“Not if it doesn’t mean anything,” you reply as you pull your arm back. “I don’t need false hope. You don’t get to pretend like you didn’t break my heart.”

She finally eases up and releases your bag. “You’re right. I’ll stop.”

“Wait, I don’t -” You hesitate, unsure of what you want to be honest.

“I wasn’t trying to give you false hope,” she affirms. There’s an earnestness to her face, that tells you she could be telling the truth. Her green eyes

“Then what are you doing?” you ask.

Nat gestures for you to walk with her. She’s silent for what feel like an eternity. Strangers pass by, as the two of you walk side by side in the direction of tower exits.

“Y/N, my life isn’t simple. You know that I can never have what they do.” She gestures to the small cluster of people behind her. Laughing, mingling and getting close to one another. “You should live your life, instead of dwelling on what could have been.”

“What could have been,” you repeat. For some reason, those words echo louder than the rest.

“Is there some unwritten rule that says you have to be forever alone?”

“No it’s just easier that way.”

“Easier….” turn back. “I’m not going to be presumptuous by thinking that I was ever a real option… but whoever you meet. Try not to blow it. You deserve to be happy.” You pause. “We all do. It’s okay to take a break from following orders and choose yourself for once.”

There’s a fondness in Nat’s eyes when she looks across at you. “You always were pretty good at setting me straight…and to be honest, if I had to choose anyone right now…someone to wake up to, go home to, I think I’d choose you.”

You think she’s just humouring you. Why? You aren’t sure, since it was her decision to move on.

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better, you know. I can handle rejection.”

“Are you serious?” Nat scoffs. “So we’re still doing that, huh? I speak and you keep not believing a word a say.”

“Well I’ve learned from experience not to.”

“You still don’t get it, do you?” Natasha shakes her head. “You want the truth, Y/N? I didn’t need to fake anything with you. Ever… but at the end of the day, you were just my target. I had to let it go. Let you go. You were never suppose to come looking for me. No one usually does,” she adds.

“Well I did,” you respond back, a slight crack in your voice.

“Yeah, I know,” Natasha sighs quietly. “And this was so much easier when you stayed away.”

“What was?”

Nat falters, before she suddenly reaches out toward you, pulling you into a passionate kiss. For someone her size, she’s pretty forceful. Then you remember exactly who you’re dealing with and can’t help but smile beneath her mouth. Your cheeks warm from excitement. A wave of nostalgia washes over you. Her touch feels like happier times. It reminds you of nights when she used to fall asleep beside you. The way she used to cross her arms and furrow her brow when she can’t quite get a recipe right

When you separate, you’re excited and absolutely terrified at the same time.

“What happens now?”

“I really don’t know. never done this for real before,” Natasha reminds you.

“Is that what we’re doing?” you question. “Trying this for real?”

“I don’t -” She stops herself. “Yes,” she says instead, with assurance. “I want to try being happy and normal, for once in my life. I want that with you.”

She reaches a hand out, to grab a delicate hold of yours. “That is, if you’ll have me, of course,” Nat finishes.

Realizing what she’s just asked you, a soft, playful smile forms across your lips. “Well, I came all this way, haven’t I? Might as well.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader

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heretic - series masterlist

I did something out of my comfort zone and well, here we are. I said originally I wasn’t going to make a masterlist for this but then I figured, why not. Probably easier to navigate, at least I am hoping.

Walter De Ville x Female Reader / Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, language, abduction, biting, blood drinking, religious themes, unprotected sex, worlds colliding.

Summary | Accepting a teaching position halfway across the world seems like the best way to make a fresh start. But running away from your demons doesn’t mean you won’t run into more, especially when the Dean of the university seems to be hiding some of his own.

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

#not mine #recommendations #read the warnings

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still into you | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | chapter one: thursday

summary: you, syd, marcus, and carmy return to where it all began: new york city, prompting you and carmy to think a lot about your past... and your future together. (four part series | follow-up to 'make my heart surrender)

warnings: lots of swearing, tooth-rotting fluff, use of she/her pronouns, the lightest of smut, no use of y/n, second person pov

word count: 5k

listen to: 91 - bleachers | now i'm in it - haim | bewitched, bothered, and bewildered - ella fitzgerald (playlist here)

a/n: re: the poll -- yall really said 'let this man be happy please!' and i love that for us. if you voted for the other fic, i want to reassure you that i will be writing that one right after this! please enjoy all of the fluff and joy of this four chapter fic. i also feel like i potentially robbed us of a smut scene so... anyone interested in a bonus smut scene as a companion to this chapter?

Thursday 

“Alright, guys. We only have a few hours to get our day one prep done. I’ve outlined a schedule for today so that we’re as efficient as possible. Tomorrow’s gotta go smooth, alright?” Carmy instructs, laying out the day. 

You listen intently, marveling at your boyfriend in-action. He’s so fearless when he’s in his element, and being back in New York just seems to bring back all the memories of how you met. It’s like you’re twenty seven again, huddling up for a pre-shift meeting, led by recently-promoted wunderkind CDC, Carmen Berzatto. 

Only, you’re not twenty seven anymore and Carmy is the love of your life. 

“I’m gonna start with the mise for our beef dish, so Syd, can you get working on our signature veal stock? I think we should work with one in the pressure cooker just in case we get short on time and have a back up,” Carmy directs, an intense determination filling his eyes. 

He looks from Sydney to Marcus, before continuing his orders. 

“Marcus, I need you to start on the ice cream today, chef. I ordered us some liquid nitrogen if we need to make more on the fly, but I’d really prefer not to.”

And then it’s your turn, and boy, do you love to watch him work. You have to fight the corners of your lips from curling into a broad grin because you know now is not the time. 

“And lastly, I’m gonna have you work on the pasta. My goal is for us to get all of the agnolotti assembled today, so I’ll jump in when I wrap up with my mise to help you with that, yeah?”

“Heard,” the three of you answer in unison. 

Everyone’s got their game faces on because this is a big deal. 

The biggest, actually. 

Representing The Bear at the James Beard House is more than a big deal – it’s an honor. Only a handful of chefs get invited to cook here per year, and after a little fancy footwork in terms of scheduling, the four of you were finally able to agree on a date with the famous organization. You’re more than elated to be a part of the team, even if you aren’t working at The Bear anymore. 

The four of you quickly busy yourselves with setting up your stations. You only have a few hours to accomplish a whole lot of prep, and the pressure sits heavily on each of your shoulders. Tickets to the dinner had sold out within the first hour, which, after all the press, accolades, and media attention the restaurant had earned over the last few years, hadn’t been a huge surprise.

“Think you can keep up, chef? Don’t tell me you’re gettin’ rusty on me,” Marcus quips, already starting the playful trash talking early.

You let out a laugh, before challenging him in jest.

“Damn, Marcus. Hasn’t been that long. Bet I can still kick your ass on a ‘beat the clock’ mise, chef.”

“Oooooh. Shots fired,” Sydney calls out, joining in on your friendly banter.

“Challenge accepted,” Marcus shoots back, almost instantly. 

And then you’re scrambling to get as many prep containers and a kitchen scale, as you race your friend and mentee, all in good fun. 

You’ve missed this. 

It’s only been a few months since you started your new job – a culinary education director at a startup intent on building more sustainable food systems. While your heart would always be at the restaurant, you’d been ready to take on new challenges. The salary pay and benefits didn’t hurt either. You were happy taking a grown-up job, craving a little more stability and normalcy – and so that you and Carmy could stop paying out the ass for health insurance. Besides, you were still working with food. It just looked… well, a lotta different these days. 

You’ve missed the fast pace of the kitchen, your people, and Carmy’s desire for excellence, but it’s not like those things have left your life either. You still have them. 

After you’d left the restaurant, Marcus had taken over as the head pastry chef. In the last few months, you’ve watched him mentor and inspire a new group of wide-eyed, green, chefs-in-the-making, which had made you prouder than you’d ever have the words for. 

You can smell the sharp-allium scent of onions, as Syd quarters them for her stock, and while you have several cartons of eggs and 00 flour, Marcus has gathered all the milk that you’d just purchased for today’s prep.

“Behind,” Carmy says. He passes you by with a few 5 qt storage containers stacked, as he hugs them to his body with one arm. 

You feel his other hand place the gentlest touch on the small of your back as he leans in and whispers in your ear, “It’s good to have you back, chef.” 

You smile, turning your head just enough to lean back to look at him. 

“It’s good to be back, chef.” 

He presses the gentlest, slow kiss to your lips, and it feels like time stops for a moment. As he pulls away from you, there’s a small smirk on his face as Sydney shouts, “Oh get a room, you two!” 

“If we had the time…” he murmurs quietly, planting one more soft peck onto your lips. His face is still only inches away from yours. You giggle in response, the tender moment filling your heart with warmth. 

“Speaking of time… I just bought Marcus a head start,” Carmy teases, your jaw dropping as soon as you realize what he’s doing. 

You pull away from him, your head snapping towards Marcus’ direction to see that he’s already filled a 5 qt container to its capacity with one portion of the milk. 

“Seriously? Damn it, Carmy!” you cry out, shaking your head. “This is sabotage!”

You hear Marcus laugh in the background and as Carmy walks away with a cheeky feeling of accomplishment. You shake your head in disbelief. 

“Sorry, babe. You can deal with a little hazing, yeah? Since you’ve been gone for so long. Gotta give my guy a head start. ‘S only fair.” 

“You’re such a dick,” you scowl, scrambling to catch up. 

Oh it is so on. 

*

By the time you’re done with your day one prep, the four of you head to the hotel. Luckily, it’s only a five minute walk away, and you’re grateful that the James Beard Foundation chose to partner with one so close. The four of you pull your suitcases down the streets of Greenwich Village, before arriving at the luxurious, vintage-inspired hotel. 

You’re eager to get up to your room, as you haven’t had a shower, nor a time to take a break since you all arrived. 

“Woah…” Carmy says, his brilliant blue eyes scanning the high end hotel room. “You sure we can afford this?” 

You chuckle, “I think uh… they have a partnership with the James Beard Foundation, which is the only way I can answer your question with a ‘yes’ without having to tell you that we have to sell an arm, a leg, and our first born.” 

He shoots a half smile in your direction before letting out a whistle as he looks around. The floor to ceiling windows feel way outside of anything you could afford, as Carmy spots the French doors that lead right out onto a terrace. As you continue to explore the rest of the room, you spot a huge tub in the bathroom – something you’re very eager to take advantage of. 

“Power nap?” you ask Carmy, setting down your suitcase in the middle of the room. 

You’ll put your things away later.

“Fuck yeah,” he agrees eagerly.

You’ve barely put your book bag down before you’re both stripping off your jeans and climbing into the perfectly made hotel bed. After spending the morning traveling, you, Sydney, Marcus, and Carmy had gotten off the plane at JFK and gone straight to the James Beard House in Greenwich. Not only had Carmy been antsy to see the kitchen and get a head start on prep, you hadn’t been able to check into your hotel till this afternoon. You’re both spent, and you know that Carmy’s been running himself ragged preparing for this once in a lifetime opportunity. He hasn’t been sleeping all that well either– his thoughts consumed with nailing down the perfect menu, while paralyzed with indecision.

His quest for perfection had made him irritable over the last few days. You could see that the pressure was getting to him. His appetite was down, he was picking fights with you about small, unnecessary things at home, and pushing Sydney (sometimes a little too hard) at the restaurant. 

But today, he seems a little more in control of his feelings, and it puts him a little more at ease now that you’re finally in New York. He knows he’s been driving you crazy all week, and now that you’re all here, he’s hoping he can relax a little. 

Now that you’re here, in the city. 

Now that the dinner is only a day and a half away. 

You’re hoping he’ll slow down at some point too – give himself a little time to enjoy how big of an accomplishment this is. At least by the end of the weekend. Frankly, you’re glad you’ll have Saturday to enjoy the city without any pressure. 

For all of your sakes. 

You’re surprised that Carmy falls asleep with you during your late afternoon nap. He’s been so wired, so high strung lately, but you’ve just been waiting for him to come back down. Now that it seems like he is, there’s no way in hell you’re going to wake him up. You’re curled up together when you wake, your back pressed against his chest, his arms enveloping you. It feels almost impossible to pry yourself out of his arms without waking him up, but his deep slumber confirms your suspicions and you’re more than willing to let him continue sleeping. It takes a few tries to slip out of his embrace, but you do, and it’s off to the bathroom to get ready for dinner.

You try to make as little noise as possible, but by the time you're out of the shower, and your hair has been blown dry, Carmy’s up. You can hear the hotel TV on as you exit the bathroom and see he’s put his jeans back on. He’s perched on the edge of the bed, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. You notice that the dark circles under his eyes that have accumulated over the years seem to sit heavier this week, as his eyes flicker over towards you.

“Damn, my girl’s got style,” he compliments, checking out your all black-ensemble. “We really are back in New York, huh?”

You nod, grinning at his sweet compliment, as you sit down to slip your white sneakers on. 

“You meetin’ up with Liz and Maya tonight?” he asks you. 

“Yeah. Syd’s gonna join for a bit before her thing. She should uh… be here any minute, actually.” You begin tying up the shoelaces of one of your shoes, before slipping the other one on. 

“You sure you don’t want to come?”

“Nah I-, I'll see ‘em tomorrow right? But tell ‘em I say ‘hello’.”

“Of course. I think they’re both really looking forward to seeing you.”

You check the time on your phone making sure you have enough time, before you make your way to where Carmy sits on the edge of the bed. 

“What’re you going to do tonight?” you ask, curiously, stopping so that your body is right in front of his. 

“Well Marcus is staging at per se so… I’ll probably just hang out. Order room service or pick up a sandwich across the street. I wanna run through all this shit so tomorrow goes as well as it can,” Carmy answers, waving his notebook at you. 

He’s like a man possessed, but it’s one of the many reasons you love him. You pull the notebook out of his hands tossing it somewhere on the bed behind you. You place your knees on each side of his hips, before settling down on top of him. 

“Think you can relax a little tonight?”

He pulls you in, his arms moving over your hips. Carmy leans in, placing a small kiss against your glossy lips. 

“Think you can help me with that?”

You giggle in response, twisting your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“I think… that could be arranged.”

Before anything too spicy can happen, there’s a knock at the door and you know it’s Syd. Carmy groans as you pull away, falling back onto the bed with a sigh of defeat. You climb off of him, heading to answer the door. 

“Hey, you ready?” Sydney asks, as you greet her. 

“Yeah, let me just grab my phone,” you reply, stepping aside to let her in. 

As she enters the hotel room, Carmy’s sitting up. With his feet planted firmly on the ground, he leans over, resting his forearms on his legs as he runs a hand through his messy curls. 

Sydney looks from you to a somewhat pouty Carmy, as if she knows she interrupted something. 

“Staying in tonight, Carm?” she asks him, as you gather your things. 

“Yeah,” he grumbles, and you can’t help but notice how tired he looks. 

Sydney rolls her eyes in response, “Don’t worry. I’ll have her back by nine.”

“Alright, I’m ready,” you say with a smile as you address Sydney. 

“You guys have fun,” Carmy nods, with a half assed wave.

“Don’t work too hard, boss,” Sydney adds, as the two of you turn to leave. “Oh and Carmy. You’ve got a little…” She gestures towards the lipstick you’ve left on his face. 

You laugh in response, and as you close the door, Carmy can hear Sydney’s ‘oh my god, you two are like rabbits’ comment in the distance. 

Carmy allows himself to fall back on the bed, reaching above his head to grab his notebook again. He’s honestly grateful to have a night to himself. He’s never been much for going out, or big social events, so having a night in feels like a good kind of calm before the storm – especially because the next few days will be full of social interactions. He’d always found New York City a little overstimulating. 

Between the dinner and the reception on Saturday, Carmy felt like he was collapsing under the enormous pressure – his only out being excellence. It’s not just the fact that being invited to cook at the James Beard house was a once in a lifetime opportunity, but there’s important business to announce here too. And then there’s the social aspect of it all, and he can’t help but feel like there are high expectations: from the food world, his reputation, your old friends from New York. And he wants to make everyone happy – he wants to impress them all. 

Something about being back here, and being back here with you, has him caught up in his head about it all. This is where you’d met. It’s also where he’d been at his lowest – right before Mikey died. So much has changed, and Carmy feels too large for his old battlefield.

Because that’s what it had been for him: a battlefield. 

A battle for his mental health, to rise to the top of the New York City fine dining scene, fighting with his feelings for you. 

Over the last two years, he had learned that he didn’t have to fight every single damn day. Some days he could just… be – be himself, whatever the fuck that meant, be a friend, and be with you. It felt strange – familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Being back here makes him somehow feel like the total loser he was six years ago when he first arrived in NYC… and a completely different person at the same time. 

While he was over the moon when he got the call from the James Beard Foundation, he also couldn’t fight this uncomfortable feeling that’s been sitting in his stomach all week long. Carmy had never quite been able to come to terms with the whole ‘celebrity’ aspect of the food world. He knew what he could do in the kitchen. That was unquestionable. But the rest of it – the networking, the celebrity chef circles – was the part he felt most unsure about.

Ever since Sydney’s Rising Star win, he’d let her take center stage with her rising visibility in the culinary world. Actually, he’d been grateful that she was so good at it – that it seemed like she enjoyed the part of the job he hated. There was someone to take the pressure off of him – someone who thrived in front of the camera so that he didn’t have to. But he knows at some point this weekend, he’ll have to face the music. 

There were big changes coming to The Bear. 

*

It didn’t take long after the initial introductions for your friends to fawn over Sydney. They were more than happy to meet your friend they’d heard all about, and the incredible chef who was shaking up the Chicago food scene. 

“Well I’m glad to hear that some things have changed and that working with Carmy’s not a total nightmare any longer-?” Liz concludes your conversation about the restaurant, earning an eye roll from Maya and a laugh from both you and Sydney.

“Oh no it’s still tough sometimes,” Sydney says back. “He has his days. We all do.”

“Liz!” you protest, in regards to the Carmy-bashing.

“What?! You didn’t have to work directly under him back then!” she defends herself, before clarifying with Sydney. “And in his defense, Sydney, it was really our exec chef who was the real nightmare.”

“Oh she works directly under him, alright,” Maya jokes, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“And sometimes on top of him, and also-,” you quip back, ready to play along.

“Oh my god, you’re out of control and I am sick of you!” Sydney exclaims with a laugh in reference to your crass comment.

“So tell us more about the new restaurant,” Maya prompts, refocusing the conversation back to Sydney’s previous reveal.

Sydney tells your friends about The Bear’s plans to expand, and shares ideas she has that even you haven’t heard from Carmy yet. As she wraps up her story, she realizes what time it is, meaning that she’s gotta head uptown soon. She really only was supposed to stay for a glass of wine, but meeting your friends has been so fun that she’s lost track of time. 

“Shit. I have to head out,” she says. “But I’ve really loved meeting you guys. You’re coming to the dinner tomorrow night, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Absolutely.”

“And the reception!” you add gleefully, so glad you get to see your best friends three days in a row. 

“It’s been really great meeting you, Sydney,” Liz says, shooting you a look of approval. She squeezes your hand under the table momentarily, before saying, “Thanks for taking care of our girl. She speaks so highly of you.”

“Where are you off to next?” Maya asks, excitedly. 

“Syd’s got dinner plans,” you answer, waiting for Sydney to provide more detail.

“Yeah, I uh-, I got invited to one of the To Be Hosted events and it just worked out that we’d be in town for this the same weekend,” Sydney replies, a glimmer of excitement flashing through her eyes as she shares.

“Damn, you got invited to a supper club?” Liz marvels. “Okay!”

“Yeah because she’s a rockstar,” you cheer your friend on, saying it so matter of factly that even a stranger would believe you. 

You all say your goodbyes to Sydney before ordering food. It feels so good to be back in the city, back here with some of your best friends. Maya and Liz had been the friends that held you up, and you them, when you lived here. While you had met Liz at your last job, a sous chef under Carmy’s leadership, Maya worked in fashion and the two of you had become fast friends after meeting through an ex-boyfriend. Once you introduced the two of them to each other, the three of you had been inseparable ever since. 

They had always been your biggest cheerleaders – especially when it came to you and Carmy.

“She’s great,” Maya says, in reference to Sydney. 

“Right? I’m so excited for her. This is a huge deal: create her own menu, a chance to run kitchen without Carmy…” you agree, feeling deep satisfaction over the amazing people you have in your life. “We’re announcing the big news at the dinner tomorrow.”

“Speaking of, how is our favorite guy? What’s he up to tonight?” Maya asks, guiding the conversation back to Carmy. 

“I told him he could come but I think he wanted to stay in tonight. I think he needs some time to decompress. He’s been pretty high strung all week,” you answer. 

“Carmy? High strung?” Liz asks back sarcastically, earning a laugh from you.  “I’m kidding! I really am looking forward to seeing him tomorrow. 

Maya shakes her head, before taking a sip of her glass of wine. She’s always adored Carmy, but knows that Liz has a different relationship with him, having worked as a line cook. 

“You guys are… getting serious, huh?” Liz asks, glancing over at you. 

“Um.. I think those two were married after their first coffee date,” Maya adds. 

“It was not a date!” you insist, shooting her a look. 

Liz lets out an unconvinced laugh, and you accept defeat because you know they’ve always been right about you and Carmy. 

“Maya, don’t forget. Our girl is and has always been the Queen of Denial,” Liz adds, winking in your direction. 

“Oh ha-ha. You guys are so funny,” you reply dryly. You nod, thinking about you and Carmy’s relationship over the last few years. “Yeah uh… it’ll be three years in the Fall so… you could say it’s getting pretty serious.”

Your friends are beaming back at you in response to your admission, and while you’d love to spend all night talking about how head over heels you are for Carmy, you’re also kind of ready to shift the attention off of you and your relationship. 

“Enough about me. What’s going on with you guys?” you change the subject. 

It feels so good to catch up with your girl friends. You all agree to make it an early night. While Maya’s husband had agreed to put their kid to bed, she wants to make it home in time anyways. Liz has a date later, and before you know it, you’ve wrapped up dinner and are walking back to your hotel. You send Carmy a quick text, because you’re only a few blocks away. 

You: On the way back. 

New York City has always been so inspiring to you. The city itself feels alive – like there’s an electric undercurrent that always makes you feel so full. There’s never a dull moment, and it feels as if the potential for a wild adventure is always around the corner. It’s also the place that you and Carmy met, all those years ago. It’s funny. The version of you that met him six years ago never could’ve predicted this: that you’d actually get to be here together, after almost three years of loving each other fiercely. 

Your friends were and always have been right about you. 

Back then, you were Queen of Denial and even then, Carmy had been your king. 

But you’re here now: in the city you met in, stupidly in love with the man you’d met six years ago who had seemed terrified to merely have a conversation with you. 

Your phone buzzes in your hand, interrupting your trip down memory lane, as you peek at the text you just received. 

Carmy: Went out for a walk and a smoke. 

You type back a quick, yet short reply. 

You: Love you. 

When you return to the hotel room, you enjoy the quiet of the evening. It still feels like spring in NYC, so you open a window because it just feels too damn good outside. No wonder he’d gone for a walk. You kick your shoes off, placing them gently by the door, before stripping off your jacket and heading into the bathroom. 

As you pull your hair up and out of your face, piling it into one conglomerate on top of your head, you eye the large bathtub you’d admired earlier.  Not only are you in need of a relaxing soak, but you’re hoping you can persuade Carmy to join you – maybe even help him destress a little. You don’t think twice about it, as you strip off all of your clothes, sliding on one of the fluffy robes that the hotel has provided. You flip on the hot water, the sound of rumbling water against tile hitting your ears.

There’s a bath soak in a glass jar that you find on the bathroom counter, before adding it to the increasingly hot water. While it looks like a mixture of some kind of soak and epsom salt, large bubbles begin to form underneath the rapid stream of the faucet, and you inhale deeply. 

Lavender. Vanilla. Chamomile, maybe?

The smell puts you at ease and you can feel your shoulders melting away from your ears. 

It’s not long before Carmy returns, the bathtub is almost at its capacity and the bath soak that you put in the hot water has bubbled up and blossomed into large, sudsy configurations. You’ve put on a jazz playlist, the sounds of Ella Fitzgerald filling the small space as you hum along. 

“Babe?” Carmy calls out to you, as you hear the front door close behind him. 

“I’m in here,” you call to him, turning the volume of your phone down a few levels. . 

You hear a shuffle of shoes, before he’s peeking around the door frame, his eyes lighting up as soon as he sees you. He knows it’s silly. It’s not like he’s been able to be very present over the last week, and it begins to dawn on him that he’s missed you.

“How was your walk?” you ask softly. 

“Good.”

He looks around the bathroom, the air thick with humidity from the hot water. You turn the faucet off, as you’ve now filled the tub to its capacity.

“You look comfy.”

“I am. It’s a very comfy robe.”

You wait a beat before preparing your ask.

“Big tub,” you entice him, gesturing towards the bubble bath that awaits you. 

“Yeah?” he asks, a half smile on the edges of his lips as he takes a step towards you. 

“Big enough for two,” you nod, making your case. 

It’s all the convincing he needs. You’re removing your robe, leaving your bare body on display for him to see, and soon enough, he’s stripping down and climbing into the bathtub with you. You share an awkward laugh as the two of you clumsily figure out how to position yourselves for optimal comfort. Your back is pressed against his chest, and you’re truly in awe of the large bathtub that somehow holds the both of you.

It becomes progressively easier for Carmy to relax. Between the hot water, and your naked body pressed against his, thoughts and worries about tomorrow begin to slip away. The two of you enjoy the quiet intimacy between you, the soft sounds of your favorite jazz standards, and Carmy’s lazily dragging his fingertips across any bit of exposed skin that he can.

You lean your head back against his shoulder, and Carmy buries his face in the crevice where your neck and shoulders meet. 

“Why don’t we do this more often?” he asks, in between leaving a few slow-paced, soft kisses across your shoulders. 

“Hm?” you hum in response. From the way his mouth and hands move across your body, and the silky feeling of the hot water, you barely have a thought left in your head.

“This whole… bath thing,” he clarifies, exhaling a deep sigh. 

This may be the most relaxed he’s felt all week and he likes that you seem to be enjoying this too.  

“Probably because we have a tub that I can only assume was built for a small show dog,” you joke. 

He laughs dryly. 

“Fair enough.”

Carmy waits a beat before speaking again, enjoying how his mind has quieted for the first time in days.

“Let’s put it on the list… for when we’re ready to move to a new place,” he suggests, quietly. 

“Somewhere with a big tub?” you ask, only sort of surprised by his request. 

“Yeah.”

You turn your head to look at him, as Carmy presses a searing kiss to your lips. You feel his hand snake between your legs and you begin to understand exactly why he’s enjoying this whole bath thing. 

“As much as I’m enjoying this…” he whispers against your lips. “Think you maybe want to get out of this tub…”

Another kiss.

“… dry off…”

You slide your tongue against his as his fingertips move higher up your inner thigh, earning a hiss of pleasure from you. 

“…not put our clothes back on?”

And then he’s swallowing your moans in his mouth, as he continues his exploration. Your head is spinning, and it’s not just the hot water that makes you feel as if your soul was set aflame.

“Yes.”

*

The next morning, you wake up alone. On the bedside table there’s a note in Carmy’s scratchy handwriting that reads:

Couldn’t sleep. Went to Chelsea Market. Love you.

You let out a frustrated sigh. Last night had been incredible but you also knew it’d be back to the grind today. While you’re excited for him – and for tonight – you’re also kind of ready for this to be over. You’re ready to have your boyfriend back.

read: bonus smut scene | chapter two

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila

#carmen berzatto x reader #not mine #fic recs

[littlebosleepmusings]

2012-13 AO3 was a beautiful fever dream.

#I wasn't around then #but it sounds lovely

[littlebosleepmusings]

Heretic - One

I know, it’s been ✨a minute✨ but I present something that has not left my brain for the last week and I finally made some sense of it. I did something out of my comfort zone and well, here we are. I’m not making a masterlist for this yet because we will see how this goes and if it resonates with people. 

I’d trust not a single soul in this fic, btw. 

Walter De Ville x Female Reader / Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, language, abduction, imprisonment, biting, blood drinking but otherwise world building. 

Summary | Accepting a teaching position halfway across the world seems like the best way to make a fresh start. But running away from your demons doesn’t mean you won’t run into more, especially when the Dean of the university seems to be hiding some of his own.

“Ever seen a storm like this?”

You haven’t, not since California had been drenched with a week of rain and your usual route to work was disrupted by a detour due to massive mudslides.

Your cab driver is an overly friendly Englishman with a crooked, kind smile, his green eyes looking toward you in the rearview mirror. Despite the exhaustion of the long flight, the mix up of your luggage and the fact that the car that was supposed to be waiting for you had never shown, your emotional bank is already lower than you would like, simply shaking your head no as rain patters rapidly on the windshield. The response seems enough for him, his attention back on the road.

“Now what’s a smart girl like you doing heading to Brefine? Heard some stories about that school, can’t say it’s all been good.”

The silence that falls between you both feels uncomfortable, the low hum of the heater the only sound between you both before you finally take the bait.

“What stories?”

“Ah, Brefine has it’s old tales, as it were,” he replies, scratching his cheek as he nods to himself. “There was that disappearance of teachers a few decades back. About three of them, I believe. Went outside the gates and were never seen again.”

“I never heard of that.”

You’re itching to look it up, unsure if he’s telling the truth or not, your fingers grazing over the keyboard of your phone.

“A long time ago, Miss. Now I’m not trying to scare you. Simply want to let you know that it was a dark time back then. A lot of speculation over what occurred, what could have happened to them. No one knew for sure. I have my theories but…” he pauses, giving a slight shake of his head. “No matter. Who am I? Just a driver.”

“I’m curious,” you answer, your body lifting slightly as the car goes over a pothole.

“Sorry about that. You can tell we’re getting closer. They don’t maintain these roads like the ones in the city. Best hang on tight.”

Adjusting your seatbelt, your cell service drops with a simple soft tone, your eyes rolling in irritation. The windshield wipers are on full speed, water flying off the windshield while he grips the steering wheel tighter.

“Brefine covered it up. I’m sure of it. I don’t know what social media the kids use these days? Clock? Tok Tik? It’s all over. You’ll see some of them try and make their way over here but don’t you worry, Mr. De Ville usually catches them first.”

The name gets you to lean forward, gripping the handle of the top of the door.

“Mr. De Ville?”

“He’s the Dean of the university. A well traveled fellow, I may say. He comes from a long line of educators. Very smart man. Fearless, in a way.”

Keep reading

#recs #not mine

[littlebosleepmusings]

Aidan Turner as Phillip Lombard

AND THEN THERE WERE NONE (2015)

#inspo