#i have never held a conversation for that man but I'd die for him

[yoinkschief]

Sorry I died

But I'm back now :)

Kinda

I've been,,,, working on something,,,

In the background :)

I hope y'all are gonna like it, really I do

Kinda been stuck in my head for a while now

But! In the meantime, have silly goofy Tom and the MFer who unfortunately (loving) deals with him (enjoys his company)

#i only now just realized that I low-key made him bowlegged in a lot of my old drawings #decided I'd bring that back #he also dresses terribly and i love him #this is inspired off a kid at my school #he wore a checked dress shirt and a yellow bow tie #i have never held a conversation for that man but I'd die for him #i love his energy so much #saw him wear a Bowser suit once #he's so swag #Tom #ew Tom #eddsworld #art #ew #fanart #traditional art #ew tord #tord #date night #tomtord / tordtom #it's coming #soon #jay draws

[adoregojo]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ conversations on the lap ₊˚⊹

characters ➤ bachira, reo, isagi, nagi warning ➤ disgustingly fluffy,

bachira.m

"so today the couch made us do extra exercise today." the brown-yellow haired male explained co-speech his hands to emphasis his words while you listened carefully.

"mhm."

"then shidou stepped on rin's foot, i don't think it was an accident," he kept looking back at you every second to make sure you were still interested, so you run your fingers through his slick brown locks while nodding for him to continue, both to assure him you were listening and because he loved when you did that, said it made him feel fuzzy and soft.

"than a huugee fight began and me and otoya were like 'fight, fight, fight!'" he raised his fists to the air in intense for you to laugh, which he always succeeded at because you were letting out a light chuckle that made his chest huff proudly.

"aha." you hummed.

"then they were pulling each other's hair like a girls fight, i almost got bald from laughing!" bachira couldn't help but snort at the memory while holding his chest, he was actually rolling on the ground laughing his ass off at that time.

"i'm really glad you didn't." you said softly, as you bent down pushing his hair out of the way to press your lips on his forehead which made him bashfully giggle kicking his feet a little, his carefree smile turned into a sheepish one, somehow all the exhaustion from practice flow out the window when he was with you.

"would you think i still look handsome if i was bald tho?" suddenly he said with a serious face.

"meg.."

reo.m

"would you love me if i was worm?" the heir asked you, this was a Poverty of the week where reo would question you about how much you love him, it's not like he doubts your feelings for him however there was days where he just didn't needs extra love to feel alive breath into him again, yes this is how much your words affect him.

"i'd sure do." you assured him with a gentle smile.

"if i die would you get with another man?" the thoughts of another guy stealing you away for him will haunt him for eternity since he had that one nightmare, he had to sped his next week crying in your arms while you held him like a baby, and him begging you not to get bored of him. definitely his worst nightmare of all time.

"don't think i will."

the purple head took your hand and suffocated it between his palm, like he was begging you to be honest, "do you still love me?" reo pouted at you, you swore you almost saw tears run down his face as if you were gonna actually reject him.

you felt bad for almost laughing at his childish behaviour, but at the same time lucky because you were the only one who gets to see the reo mikage like this. "we're engaged, but sure yes i still love you very dearly." you made sure your tone was confident enough to wipe that expression out of his handsome face.

you caressed his cheek with your hand, rubbing your thumb across his skin in comfort. reo couldn't help but lean forward your loving touch that made him feel he was in the safest place he could ask for. you gave him a kiss on the tip of his nose and he chuckled sheepishly at the action.

"i feel very loved right now." he says as a little blush crossed his face with his usual grin back on it place.

"m glad."

isagi.y

"why do people call it building when it's already built." if you got money on every time your boyfriend would ask stupid questions like that you would've beaten the mikage themselves.

"english rules i guess." you said as you let a sigh, it's not that you hated it but something his questions are so unrelated that it gave you headaches. but you never persuaded him to stop it, letting him ask whatever came to his mind like you were the divining goddess with all the answers.

"do you think ants have a life like us?"

"guess so."

"did you know that noel noa is the best world player right now?" he pointed his finger out with a goody smile as if he was saying something unusual, missing the glasses he looked like a damn nerd and you loved it. he stared confused at you as you laughed a bit at his words, at least he made you laugh?

"i do, i hope one day you'll be even better than him." your words were genuine enough for his beep ocean eyes to glee at you and to caught some bug stomach, he would never get use to flicker you always gave him with such simple words.

a lovesick smile spread on his face as he ask the next question unintentionally, "can i have a kiss?"

before he could catch up on his words, your soft lips smacked his own into a gentle kiss. he kissed you back but not enough before you backed away. he was awestruck as his face turned red before mirroring your smile.

"thank you."

nagi.s

"im dead."

"sei, you're not dead." you called him out with a pinch he barely reacted to, ever since he stepped in the apartment all he has been able to do is jump on you like he hadn't seen you in years taking all the space on the couch with his massive build, not patting an eye at your cries for him to get up because you couldn't feel your legs anymore.

"careful what you say, it might be the last thing i hear." he muffled while his cheek was resting on your thigh, felt it was like his one and only pillow. he was like a fat lazy cat especially when he kept rubbing his face against your thighs skin.

"you're so dramatic." you complained as you stroked his back which nagi let out a quiet sound at almost like a purr.

"you love me though." he said softly, his voice low and his words meant for your ears only.

"unfortunately." you teased back,

"hmph." nagi pouted at your words.

"was your day that bad? you want me to give you kisses to ease it?" you mostly meant it as a joke until you never seen someone mood change so fast, even for nagi. his was half closed eyes were now more opened in excitement that flowers would float around him.

he pointed his finger at his forehead, "i want one here." as you gave him a kiss where he pointed you couldn't help but let a smile slip on your face, nagi didn't seem to mind as long as he felt your affection.

this time it was each finger pointing at one of his cheek, "here too." you don't know if it consider cheating but he looked so eager you simply obeyed and gave him a pack each cheek.

"and here." finally he pointed at his lips for a final request, the cherry on top. your lips against his were always heavenly, like you two were kissing for the first time and it still made him light-headed when you two parted. the tip of his ears getting red as you spared him a shining smile that was to him the brightest light in the merciless cold night that he was begging to warm his iced heart to make his heart beat again.

"how about now?"

"I'm on the verge of dying, you should give me more kisses so i could survive."

have a nice day everyone!!

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #bachira x reader #isagi x reader #nagi x reader #reo x reader

[erwinsvow]

imagine if rafe and pogue reader’s relationship was just a bet between him and his kook friends, to see if he could ACTUALLY get her to fall in love with him, like to get her to be all over him and how long that would last, and the reader finds out omgggg. And they break up lol

you think the ending bits of the conversation between your boyfriend and his friends hurts more than everything you just overheard.

"you really think i'd settle for some fuckin' pogue pussy? nah man, top owes me fifty bucks now."

you hadn't heard the entire exchange, just from the part where you heard your name. stupidly, like a naive girl in love with the type of boy she'd only ever dreamt about, you tuned in, thinking rafe was telling his friends something you'd want to hear.

hiding—as embarassing as it is—behind the wall, holding back tears though they don't care enough to stay held back, they pour down your cheeks as the hits keep coming. the boys laugh, but the ringing in your ears had been so loud you hadn't heard the rest of the joke, didn't understand what was so funny.

the first thought in your mind is that you can't believe how stupid you were. the second is that pope and jj and john b had all been right, that it was too good to be true, that he was playing you somehow, that he was a liar and scumbag. you had ignored what your best friends had been telling you, trying so hard to believe that they were wrong, that they didn't know rafe, or at least your rafe, the one who was sweet and funny and never let you drive anywhere or pay for a thing, the one who paraded you around town like you were something who deserved to be showed off, the one who you took back to your tiny house and introduced to your hard-working parents.

you resist the urge to slide down the wall you're leaning against, though every muscle in your body wants to keel over and cry until you can't cry anymore.

you'd been embarassed enough—they didn't need to see you like this too. wiping away tears with the back of your hand, sniffling but trying to stay quiet, you wait for the boys to walk away so you could sneak out of here and pretend that you'd never even come—though you'd only come because rafe said he was having friends over and you'd baked them some snacks for their game, thought you were being a good girlfriend and doing the things a good girlfriend does.

footsteps and laughter echo in the other room—they're gone. the second it's silent, a sob wrangles itself out, eyes getting blurry again. you don't know how you're gonna bike home if you can't stop crying. your fingers fly across your screen, dialing jj's number. you'd been upset at the blond because he seemed to be the most against you and rafe dating, had the meanest things to say and was the first to insinuate there was something wrong if rafe wanted to date you.

you'd been so insulted, so hurt by his words that the two of you had gone from talking every single day to maybe once a week. you hope he doesn't hold it against you now, but a part of you knows jj never would—that's just the kind of guy he is. he answers by the second ring, and you try to stay quiet, just incase they hear you.

"j? can you come get me? i-um, i'm at tannyhill-" the last part is said with another sob, breaking into a fit of tears again. he says he's with pope and that he's coming, and you hate that they heard you cry, because knowing the two of them they'll go thirty over if they think you're upset. you wanna get out of here, but you don't want them to die.

heart thudding, eyes watery, limbs weak, you stay against that wall for a moment. before you can make your way to the door, rafe's figure steps in to where you are. he sees you before you see him—shoulders shaking, hands wiping away tears.

when you turn to look at him, it doesn't take more a second to know you heard something you shouldn't have.

"hey, listen to me-" he gets closer, and you flinch, backing away. you want to say something mean, something snarky, something that'll hurt him as much as he's hurt you. nothing comes out, and you stare back at him, and you hope he remembers how hard he's made you cry, because you've decided it then and there—you're never seeing rafe cameron ever again.

you dart past him to the door. he follows, reaching out to grab you, but you take off, running down his driveway and into the truck he recognizes as heyward's. you get in, in between pope and jj. the last thing he sees is you crying into maybank's chest while they drive you away, and the last thing he thinks is wondering what the hell he had just done.

#i actually dont like writing much angst so sorry if this sucks #this ask has been here for so long and i knew i could do something with it i just couldnt place it yet #<3 i love u jj #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

[mellowwillowy]

𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜

4𝒌 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑪𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

"You've done well," your husband rubbed circles on the back of your hands as you stared into his emerald eyes hollowly, "you are a brave soul. Now, let's retreat ourselves to our deserved slumber, shall we?"

Why and how did it end up to this?

The ship was sinking, you could feel the ground shaking and yet no frantic screaming was heard. Your husband had a premonition, a disaster was about to happen and unfortunately enough, you overheard him confirming his suspicion with one of the naval's officials.

He did not expect you to slip out of the festive to find him sealing both his fate and yours, sinking down in the dark and cold ocean.

Naturally, you were filled with a sense of dread. You feared that he might be right, but you hoped against hope that he wasn't. You had heard the noise of the shaking ground and the crew's chaotic conversations, but you tried to stay calm.

"Then, could it be that the shake we felt earlier was...?"

Your husband immediately whisked you away from the dock, guiding you toward your supposed stateroom. There, he sat you down on the bed while he rummaged through his bag, fishing for a glass bottle of what you assumed to be your sleeping pills.

You were filled with uneasiness as the reality of the situation slowly dawned on you yet his emerald eyes eased you down as he circled the back of your hands. He lowered himself onto the ground on one knee, looked up at you, and spoke softly"Can you hear me, dear? Or is your heart thumping so loud to the point you can hear blood swirling in your eardrums?"

You gave him a meek node and he shushed you, his thumbs never stopped circling the back of your hands.

"I have just the perfect solution for this but I'd need your cooperation."

He held out the glass bottle for you to inspect. A plain white glass that was unmistakenly belonged to you.

"I'd need you to calm down and sleep for me. The moment you woke up, you'd be safe and sound again, I promise."

You shook your head at him, "Are you implying that I'd die in my sleep?"

Yulian gave you a gentle smile that reached his eyes, "As much as I fancy the idea of having my final rest with you in this stateroom, I'm afraid I'd rather rest with you every day for I am a man of avarice."

Yulian clasped off the lid of the glass bottle and poured out 4 pills for you to drink, "This, is the only cooperation I need from you."

"And what would you do while I snore peacefully in my sleep?" "I had secured a safe boat for both of us." "Then you shouldn't have me done this."

Yulian inched his face closer to yours, "While you do have a point, my dear, I'd rather not have you take in the sight of... humans' true nature. I'd rather not have your heart thumped in uncertainty as we lowered and waited for the rescue team to arrive,"

And he'd rather not let you drown in guilt from the fact that he had taken another woman's and children's spot just to secure the two of you.

The realization that your husband was willing to do anything to ensure your safety began to sink in. Although the knowledge brought a sense of relief, it also brought a wave of guilt as he predicted.

"The night is cold and cruel, it'll be very dark and hollow, far from the word comfort. I just wish my lily-of-the-valley won't have to feel how cruel it is... I won't leave you sunk in the ocean, I won't stop embracing your body, so would you please do your husband a favor?"

You could hear his pocket watch ticking, you could hear the subtle musical instruments being played somewhere, and you could hear your husband's heartbeat matching your pace.

You gave him another meek nod and he smiled in relief, pills poured onto your palm as he stood up to bring a glass of water over to you. You swallowed it down with scrunched eyes, waiting for the effects to take in.

Yulian lowered himself again, rubbing circles with his thumbs,

"You've done well," you stared into his emerald eyes hollowly, throat swallowing a lump of anxiety and horror, "you are a brave soul. Now, let's retreat ourselves to our deserved slumber, shall we?"

Yulian positioned you to sleep on the comfortable bed, the blanket covering your body as he sat on the edge of the bed, eyes observing you while his hand patted your blanketed figure.

"Can you lay down with me too, dear?"

His eyes widened at your request yet despite his initial reaction, he didn't seem to be opposed to the idea. He rounded his way onto the bed, sinking the mattress as a new weight laid on it.

You turned to his side and locked gaze with him, "Good night."

"Good night, dear." He pulled you closer into his embrace and waited for the time to finally strike through the chaos that would ensue soon. Bribery, threat, and backings. If the naval officials failed to let him walk on land, his relationship with one of the nation's most feared Mafia Ringleaders would show them the way.

That alone was enough to kill 2 innocent lives.

****

This has actually been sitting in my drafts since I first watched Titanic (which is last year. I'm re-writing this prompt because, yeehe! 4k celebration!)

#Yulian the Corruption #Yandere x Reader #x GN Reader #LIfE Project #Yandere Imagines #Yandere Scenarios #Kaspar is the Homie ffs

[icarustypicalfall]

Sweet Cherry Wine

Phillip Graves x fem!reader

summary: I'll crawl home to you, and if you dare to push me away, I'll break into ashes, thus my dust will fill your every space.

★ comfort (reversed) fluff/angsty/married couple/ legal age gap

notes: a sweet treat for my stars, so sorry for being away, I don't know when I'll come back, it feels too good to be here, and I don't want to leave. Ilysm for everything you had done to me, your support for the last 5 months had been incredible. I never thought I'd start this journey and honestly, it's all amazing. ty <3

★

The way she tells me I'm hers and she is mine

Your husband was unusually quiet tonight. Despite being a proud man who usually took every opportunity to boast about you and his company, he remained silent throughout the evening. His arm rested gently on your waist as he absentmindedly followed the conversation. At first, you assumed he was just being protective, but there was something else on his mind.

You caught him stealing glances at your two friends dancing together on the dance floor. Sipping your drink, you couldn't help but wonder what was bothering him. He had refused to dance, citing an aching back from work. You absentmindedly traced the scar on his cheek, but he gently brushed your hand, placing it back on the table, as if he didn't want to be touched or engaged with. Finally, you understood and let go of him. Philip coughed nervously, fidgeting with his hands before deciding to step outside for a smoke. You nodded, deciding to join your friends on the dance floor. His behavior occupied your mind, but you resolved to ask him later what was wrong.

★

You slipped off your heels and fell onto the bed with a contented sigh. Philip sat on the edge, almost slumping to the ground. It was then that you noticed the furrowed brow that he wore. He was never one to easily show vulnerability or ask for help. You couldn't blame him, considering all that he had been through.

You moved closer to him, and he turned his head, avoiding your gaze. Your hand gently rested on his back, feeling the warmth of his skin radiating beneath your cold fingers. He hesitated for a moment before leaning into your touch. You sighed.

"What's wrong, Phil? Something bothering you?"

He remained silent for several moments, but then a sob escaped his lips as his body subtly shook. He turned away, hiding his face completely from you. His blond hair fell messily onto his forehead as he whispered between his hands with a broken tone, "Why me? Why did you choose me?"

You furrowed your brow, and he repeated himself, this time with a melancholic tone that couldn't be mistaken.

"I'm an old dog, nothing more than a war machine. Why me, darling? You could have had any other man— young, handsome. Yet you chose me," he confessed, gripping your hand tightly. His voice was quiet, but his words resonated louder than any shout.

"No, that's not true. I chose you because..."

He shook his head, unwilling to listen to anything. He interrupted, looking at you with a frown. "You know that I'm too old for you, right? I've got a face full of wrinkles, my hair is turning grey..." He turned away, releasing your hand and standing up. "Why can't you find yourself a younger man? Someone who can still dance with you at parties? Someone who can make you happy?"

You protested, standing up and facing him. "You make me happy."

He shook his head, looking at you once again. Affection was always present in his gaze, but fear had blinded him.

"Somebody who... somebody who won't die and leave you a widow," he said, looking into your eyes. The once bright blue of his eyes now reflected a somber shade, like a raging arctic in the midst of a storm of doubts.

"You know the end, we all die sooner or later. Why think about it now?"

"B-because you deserve better than me," he stammered.

"I love you," you said firmly.

His head snapped back, familiar with those words that were repeated daily, from dawn till dusk. But in this moment, they held more significance than ever.

"I love you. Nothing else matters to me. Why would I want another man when I have you?"

His cheeks flushed slightly, and he coughed, a weight being lifted off his shoulders.

"What about when I'm 60 and can't get out of bed without groaning?" he asked, a small smile playing on his lips. You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, a smile mirroring one from long ago.

"When you can hardly walk and your hair is falling out, I'll still feel the same about you," you reassured, squeezing his hand and smiling.

He looked at you in disbelief. "You'd do that for me? Even if I became a miserable old coot who wakes up every morning with joints that creak louder than an engine?"

You nodded. "When you reach 60, that'll still be 20 years from now. Until then, we can live without worrying about it. It doesn't matter what you become; it's about the life we've had together. No one cares about later. Let's enjoy what we have, Phil."

"God, I feel like I'm talking to a poet or something," he chuckled.

His hand gently cupped yours, his thumb tracing over the scar on his cheek. "What about my s-," he began, but you interrupted him with a tender kiss on his cheek. The warmth of your lips left a burning sensation on his skin, igniting a fire within him.

"I adore it, I adore every scar you have, everything about you," you assured him, your words carrying a depth of love and acceptance.

Tears welled up in his eyes once again, and you brushed them away with your thumb, kissing away the single tear that escaped. The weight of judgment and self-doubt he had been carrying seemed heavier than any burden he had faced before.

A wide grin spread across his face, and he lifted you up, spinning you around in joy. "Something about you makes me so happy, darling... your words are like witchcraft!" he exclaimed, his laughter filling the room.

You giggled, playfully ruffling his blond locks, earning a mock frown from him. "No! No touching the hair!" he protested, but you couldn't resist running your fingers through his soft hair once more, as if symbolically removing the last traces of doubt from his mind. He couldn't help but laugh, his resistance crumbling under your touch.

"Okay, now you're asking for it, you know," he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Philip tilted your head down, gazing into your eyes with an overwhelming love. The softness of your lips enchanted him, and he leaned in, sipping from the elixir of immortality.

Your love was a delicate blend of honey and roses, overflowing with affection shared behind closed doors, a secret garden of emotions.

His warm breath brushed against your cheek, carrying a hint of alcohol from the earlier sip of whiskey. It trailed along your jawline and neck, leaving a tantalizing sensation in its wake. He whispered softly, gently setting you back down.

"You're a work of art, sweetheart... something I'll never fully understand, but something I'll forever pray for and thank God for granting me."

#𓆩♡𓆪 faith writes #on break #call of duty #shadow company shadows #phillip graves #phillip graves x fem reader #phillip graves x female reader #cod philip graves #phillip graves x reader

[nakachuchu]

Enjoyment | Gojo Satoru

SYNOPSIS: You didn't enjoy things in life until meeting Gojo.

READER: female

WORDS: 1.1k

WRITTEN: 07/24/2023

NOTE: Thank you for requesting! Sorry this is more "I don't care" than "I'm ditzy." Feel free to request again for anything!

You just could not give a fuck. You really could not. You hated responsibility. You hated having to bear the weight of a million mountains, just to die regretful in the end.

The world of Jujutsu was full of drama and hierarchies that would always put you below because of your gender.

No matter how powerful you were, you would never hold the same status as a man. That was a reason that continued to your personality.

People higher-up didn't like to meet with you in person or even talk to you over the phone because you just didn't care.

Your brain was numb and you found no enjoyment in things. No matter how much you slept or how many vitamins you swallowed like drugs, you were always so tired.

You did your job. You did what you were commanded and you would repeat the cycle over and over again.

Most things were deaf to you. Whatever people said, if it wasn't of utmost importance relating to your job as a sorceress, then your ears would fold over.

Maybe you had heard of the name Gojo or Satoru, but never Gojo Satoru, the holder of the Six Eyes. You never heard his full title, so you had no clue who he was until you saw him.

It was cliche to say that his beauty captured your attention. His beauty captured every women's attention, but it was a miracle for your attention span to be held.

You shrugged him off when you saw his sparkling blue eyes and white eyelashes flutter on his date with a woman in a cafe.

You carried on with your day for weeks until you saw him again at the Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School.

As a student from the Kyoto Prefectural Jujutsu High School, you never crossed paths with him. The slight age gap helped that as well. You were five years older than him at the time.

You were at the Tokyo site to have a meeting with Yaga on the subject of Itadori Yuuji. The subject of Gojo Satoru came into the conversation, and all you could respond with was "Who?"

Your question was so dead serious that Yaga couldn't tell if you were pulling his leg or not. When he finally realized you were being serious, he stood up without a word and dragged you over to Gojo before he could leave campus.

"This is Gojo Satoru," said Yaga.

You tilted your head. "I'm L/N Y/N."

"No, he's Gojo Satoru, the Six Eyes holder," Yaga said, exhausted by the limited space in your brain.

You hummed and leaned forward, looking up at Gojo who had an amused smile on his face. "Do you really have six eyes or what? Is that why you wear a blindfold?"

"Actually, I do have six eyes. The sun hurts, you know, if I don't wear my blindfold."

Yaga smacked Gojo — as much as he possibly could due to his infinity being turned on. "Be serious."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered. "I only have two eyes."

You leaned back. "Boring. I'll be going now. See you whenever, Yaga."

You walked away with a lazy wave, yawning in the process. Gojo watched you walk away, intrigued by your nonchalant attitude and apparent lack of interest in him.

As one of the most powerful sorcerers alive, he was used to people fawning over him or being intimidated by his presence. But you seemed completely unfazed.

Over the next few weeks, Gojo found himself thinking about you more often than he expected. He learned your name was Y/N and that you were a talented jujutsu sorceress from Kyoto, despite your bored disposition. He started finding excuses to be around Kyoto more often, hoping to run into you again.

One day, Gojo "happened" to show up at the Kyoto Jujutsu High School while you were teaching a class. As your students whispered excitedly about the unexpected guest, you raised an eyebrow.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Gojo-san?" you asked dryly after class.

Gojo grinned. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by to see you."

You stared at him. "Is that so? Well, I'm afraid I'm quite busy today." You started to walk away.

Gojo felt challenged by your continued indifference to him. "Let me take you out for tea," he offered.

You paused, contemplating his request.

"Tea's boring," you said pointedly before walking off.

"Coffee?"

"I want ice cream."

"Deal," he said.

"You're buying."

Over ice cream that afternoon, the two of you slowly opened up more to each other. Underneath your bored facade, Gojo was surprised to find a sharp intellect and wry sense of humor.

That day marked the start of an unlikely relationship between you both. Your contrasts balanced each other out in ways neither expected.

Because of Gojo, you began to find enjoyment in certain things. You liked going out for sweets with him, but you liked it even more when he paid for things.

The man was loaded and nothing was stopping you from taking advantage of that old money he had in his pockets.

"I feel a bit hurt you're using me for money," he said as he watched you eat dango.

"You should be honored," you said through a mouthful.

Gojo let out an exaggerated sigh. "I suppose I should be honored that a beauty like yourself wants to spend time with me, even if it is just for my money."

You rolled your eyes as you finished up the last dango stick. "Don't flatter yourself too much. I'm mostly here for the free food."

"But you don't deny you find me handsome," Gojo said with a smirk.

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to. I can tell."

You gave him an irritated look, though amusement shone in your eyes. As much as you hated to admit it, you were starting to enjoy Gojo's company. His confidence bordering on arrogance used to annoy you, but now you found it almost endearing.

After finishing the dango, the two of you took a stroll through the park. The weather was pleasant, with cherry blossoms in full bloom.

You talked about nothing in particular, simply enjoying each other's presence. As the sun began to set, Gojo walked you home. At your door, he paused.

"I had a nice time today," he said.

You nodded. "I guess you can take me out again, as long as you keep paying."

Gojo grinned. "It's a deal."

He started to lean in, then stopped, waiting for permission. You closed the distance between you and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

When you pulled back, Gojo looked pleased.

"So does this mean I get to call you my girlfriend now?"

"Don't push it," you said.

But you did squeeze his hand before disappearing inside your apartment.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader

[fanaticsnail]

Law+Cora+Reader family, my beloved!! (This is under the assumption that Dance fic and potential new Cora fic take place in the same universe)

It's about the years of longing from afar, hoping against all hope the he feels the same way. It's about escaping together, not knowing if he other loves you back, but knowing you trust him absolutely. It's about suddenly being responsible for this child, this little shit, who you love with your entire being, who you're willing to die for. It's about doing just that, dieing, perhaps in your lover's arms, knowing your son will be safe.

Its about the man who has loved you so much it huts. Who's willing to do whatever it takes to have the happy family you both want. It's about your lover, who hasn't held that title for long but covets it with his whole being. It's about the man, the love, that's with you to the very end.

Finally, it's about that boy. Your son. Spending time with his saviors, who slowly but surely become less ally and more family. It's about him seeing his parents and realizing how much love they have, for him, for each other, and for the world. Hoping, praying even, for things to stay like this, to be a happy family. But good things never last.

-----

Your son has mourned you both for years, longed for one more touch from his mother or another conversation with his father. And after years, he can finally have it. That is...if the two of you ever wake up.

As promised Snail, some (most likely incoherant) ramblings about this family. They have my whole heart (Mi corazon, if you will).

-Lots of love ♡

Excuse me while I cry on the floor, blasting:

Another Love - Tom Odel

"I'd sing a song that'd be just ours // but I sang 'em all to another heart // And I wanna cry, I wanna learn to love // But all my tears have been used up on another love"

Followed immediately by:

Happier - Bastille & Marshmallow

"I wanna raise your spirits // I want to see you smile // but know that means I'll have to leave"

I am making myself sick with heartache for mi Corazon. @feral-artistry, send help. I'm crying again. @writingmysanity, cry with me.

#one piece #x reader #Donquixote Rosinante #Donquixote corazon #trafalgar law #rosinante x reader #corazon x reader #ask snail #snail answers

[ornii]

hii don’t want to overwhelm you but if your free i was thinking my bitter half? i’m VERY invested.

My Better Bitter Half, Part 5

“Visions? Past or present?”

(Y/n) stood across his sister that night, both their arms folded against each other as they stand on the balcony.

“Sometimes both, I can’t particularly comprehend what these mean, besides bad omens.” Wednesday said, and (Y/n) furrows his eyebrows.

“These visions, they’re brought upon by anything specific?”

“No, the slightest touch brings these visions upon me.” Wednesday replies, you lean forward a bit, and gently poke her forhead, she stares daggers at you. Almost like a snake ready to strike.

“Nothing?” You ask.

“…No.” She replies almost in a growl from your poking.

“I was just checking.” You protest, your attitude quickly softens and you look at her.

“But seriously, if these visions cause you any pain or discomfort, I’ll do what I can to alleviate them.” You say, Wednesdays eyes darted from down to up at yours, a bit uncomfortable by your kindness.

“..Thank you, (Y/n).” She responds and you smile, eventually you lean against the balcony and ponder.

“The man who died in that car crash this morning, you knew because of your vision.” You say and Wednesday nods.

“I foresaw his demise. It was quite thrilling.” She says, before he can ask another question, Enid enters the room and the twins are interrupted by her spotting them and approaching, and she first notices the cello

“How the hell did you get that oversized violin out the window?” She says.

“It’s a Cello you—“ Wednesday says before she can insult Enid properly, (Y/n) interrupts, smiling a bit more seeing her.

“She had a pair of extra hands, or three.” You say, as thing crawls up your shoulder.

“Whoa. Where's the rest of him?” She asks, peering around.

“It's one of the great Addams family mysteries.” You say, “But, I should get going, let the new roommates get to know each other.” You step past your sister to leave but she quickly gets back in your way.

“Do Not leave me with her.” She says, you only smoke and gently pat her head.

“Sorry Mi Hermana, I have a life outside of you.” You step past and leave with thing, letting Wednesday awkwardly there with Enid, the two watch the night sky and the howling of wolves distract them, a conversation piece.

“Why aren't you wolfing out?” Wednesdays asks.

“Because I can't.” Enid said, and shows her nails which extend. “It's all I got. My mom says some wolves are late bloomers, but I've been to the best Lycanologist. I had to fly to Milwaukee, would you believe it? Yeah, she says there's a chance I may never... you know.” Enid said sadly, almost on the verge of tears.

“What happens then?”

“I'd become a lone wolf.”

“Sounds perfect.” Wednesdays says, much to the anger of Enid.

“Are you kidding me? My life would be officially over. I'd be kicked out of my family pack with no prospect of finding a mate!”

“I'm failing to see the problem here.”

“I could die alone.”

“We all die alone, Enid.”

“You really suck at this. Cheering people up.” Enid said, tears forming in her eyes.

“Why are you crying?” Wednesday asks..

“Because I'm upset! Haven't you ever cried, or are you above that too?” Enid sharply says, Wednesday sees the emotional turmoil Enid is in and decides to try and be helpful.

“It was the week after Halloween. I was six years old. I took my pet scorpion, Nero, out for his afternoon stroll, and we were ambushed. They wondered what kind of freak would have a scorpion for a pet. Two of them held me down and made me watch...while the others ran Nero over until...It was snowing when I buried what was left of him. I cried my little black heart out. But tears don't fix anything.

So I vowed to never do it again.” Wednesday says, Enid wipes a tear from her face.

“What did (Y/n) do?” She asks.

“He burned all of their houses down…” Wednesday responds, “As annoying, egotistical and overbearing as he is, he truly does care for me.” She said, and Enid laughs a bit.

“He really does love you, he talked a lot about you when he first came here. We had weird siblings so we bonded over it.” Enid says,Your secret's safe with me. Still think you're weird as sh¡t, though.”

“The feeling is incredibly mutual…How would you like your single room back? You just need to show me how to use your computer.”

Inside (Y/n)’s dorm, he was finishing up reading a script for a play. Before his roommate, Ajax enters.

“Duuuuuuude.” He says though his high as a kite mentality. You close the script and then turn your attention towards him.

“Yes?” You ask.

“You gotta try these brownies.”

“And melt my brain cells? No thank you.” You reply, Ajax shrugs and eats one. He sits on his bed and begins to let his mouth wander.

“So… I was hanging with Enid right?”

“Yup.” You say coldly. While your feelings for Enid were, strong, intense and you wish you could confess to the heavens your adoration, but, it’s hard. And Ajax isn’t making it any easier.

“Like she’s great and all, like super cute but how do I know she’s like, the one?” He asks you, gripping the script harder you take a deep breath and force a smile.

“Ajax, as riveting at this conversation is, I think you should have it with Enid.”

“I would but she’s away.”

“…Away where?” You ask, fearing Wednesday has “Taken care” of Enid.

“To the festival at Jericho, she went with your sister.” Ajax said. For a moment you look relieved, until you realize the open area.

“… Shit.” You quickly stand up and rush to your coat. Quickly putting it on, Ajax turns to face you, oblivious to what’s going on.

“Where are you going?” He asks.

“Jericho, I’ll catch a shuttle..” you say and storm off to find your sister before she goes off the grid.

Getting shuttled to the carnival, you step out of the vehicle and quickly scan the area. You begin to walk though lines and crowds searching, it’s easy as Wednesday, much like you stood out too much in a place full of color. Your eyes quickly scan and spot the black and white raven, who’s following Rowan into the forest. You angrily follow, pushing past the gloomy forest and eventually reach them, before you can yell, you watch Wednesday be levitated into the air. Rowan’s eyes focus so, insanely toward her.

“You're the one who's in danger.” He said.

“What are you doing?” Wednesday was able to speak though her confinement.

“Saving everyone from you. I have to kill you. Girl in the picture. That's you.”

“You want to kill me because of some picture?”

“My mother drew that picture 25 years ago when she was a student at Nevermore. She was a powerful Seer. Told me about it before she died.”

“Rowan, put her down!” You yell, he turns his attention to you running at him full force. Rowan flexed his other hand, sending you flying back into a tree, your head hits and ricochets like a ball and you hit the ground. Hard unconscious.

“No! My mother said it was my destiny to stop these two if they ever came to Nevermore, because they will destroy the school and everyone in it.” Rowan says, he prepares to kill Wednesday, (Y/n) opens his eyes and sits up, he stands and walks towards Rowan, as the power of the other Addams twin is shown. He turns around as he sees his body, lying on the ground. He turns back and walks to Rowan. Ready to suffocate Wednesday, Rowan grins, until his arm begins to shake violently. Something is stopping him, his entire body begins to convulse and stiffen up, Wednesday falls and catches her breath. She looks at Rowan, and he smirks.

“Are you alright?” “Rowan” asks her, Wednesday stands up.

“Why are you concerned for my health? You were just trying to kill me.”

“No, Rowan was, your dear brother saved you, you’re welcome.” Rowan says, as Wednesday comes to the realization who he is.

“(Y/n)”

“Guilty as Charged, now care to explain to me why you’re trying to escape now—“ you ask, suddenly you turn left to get tackled out of Rowan’s body. You hit the Spiritual ground as you hear flesh being torn, screams and echoes of pain rip though the air. After crawling back to your body you lie down, and awaken once more. You’re immediately greeted by your sister, making sure you’re you.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n)?” She said, the concern in her voice was so, genuine. You sat up, holding your back, it seems slamming into that tree did more damage than you thought.

“Im here.” You say, a slight look of relief washes over her. You and Wednesdays look forward to see Rowan’s corpse, mangled and trashed with blood.

“Wednesday, what happened?” You ask, and she shows you this, page from a book. Of a witch, a pair, a Wizard and Witch together, seemingly facing an ongoing evil from what hellish land.

“…Your room.” You say, and Wednesday reluctantly agrees. The twins return back to Wednesdays dorm to analyze what information they have, the picture, and the arrest record of Their father, Gomez addams.

Suddenly, the Crystal Ball begins to cloud up, and Gomez and Morticia appear:

“Hello, my little black clouds, So tell us darling, how was your first week?” Gomez asks.

“Let's see. I narrowly avoided death twice, discovered that my father may be a murderer, learned that I could potentially destroy the school, and was mysteriously saved by a homicidal monster.” Wednesday thinks.

“As much as it pains me to admit, you were right, Mother. I think I'm going to love it here.” She says, and turns to you.

“So. No more plans to run away?”

“No brother, it seems we were destined to destroy this school… and I’d like to find out why.”

“Hm… well if it keeps you here, fine by me, let’s see what horrors this school has hidden.”

#netflix #male reader #reader insert #wedensday x you #wednesday #wednesday addams x male reader #platonic relationship #siblings #twins #the addams family

[welldonekhushi]

Under My Spell | Part 5

Part 4 Part 6

Part 5 of Under My Spell!

Note: Again, sorry for the late delay. First, assignments and other is college. That's it lol, enjoy the fifth part mates, peace out ✌🏻

".. Rudy? You're alive?" The words slip out your mouth, about Rudy who saved you from that cursed dimension under Alejandro's control. Rudy looks over at Valeria, who nods at him, hoping that he'd help you with the problem you were facing.

"I always was, Y/N. I never disappeared." Rudy said, walking towards you.

"Then.. if you didn't disappear.." You looked back at the door, then to him. "Can you tell me what is going on with me?"

"Nothing is wrong with you, Y/N. You need to relax." Rudy tried to calm you down.

"I can't, when my mind's already filled with so many questions." You stressfully walked through the room while talking. "I thought I'd see the last of Alejandro but he's out there.. wandering like a normal person as if.. h-he has no history of what he has done? He doesn't remember me?"

You then looked at the two people, with your eyes furrowed. "There was something in that man which you never saw after stabbing him, Rudy.. I saw him, feeling pained, suffered and looked at me in the eye.. begging for help. How could I feel his emotions and not you?"

Valeria and Rudy looked at each other, thinking that you were now way too close to the truth, and it was making them feel unsure. You walked towards the man, and grabbed his arms.

"What are you hiding from me, Rudy? Tell me. What's wrong with him?"

Rudy gives Valeria a concerned glance, not sure if he shall reveal it to you or not. But since everything was in front of you, and you demanded an answer, there was no turning back now. "Y/N.. I don't think you'll be ready to hear it."

"I am ready to hear it." You were determined, without minding the consequences. Rudy sighs and then gently sits on the chair, looking at a photo frame with him and Alejandro, smiling. He was glancing at the picture, while you waited for him to respond.

".. Alejandro and I were just.. more than friends. Like brothers from blood. I would protect him, so would he. He was the only person I could trust.." Rudy talked about his past with Alejandro, as he turned his face to you, worriedly. "But sometimes there are moments in your life.. which you could never imagine.. that one day.. that changed everything, between me.. and him."

The scene slowly started to fade off, shifting to the past where it all began. Alejandro and Rudy, who were just enjoying their own company, were strolling in the forest all by themselves while having a conversation on their way back home.

"And guess what? Who knew that pendejo would realise he was actually flirting with a stick and not a real woman. Somebody should have said he needs to drink a little less." Alejandro laughed throughout the conversation, and Rudy listens to it amusedly.

"Also! Also, the way he fell? Querido dios.." Rudy giggled and held onto Alejandro since he was a little drunk after the party.

".. man, I wish if I had found someone special, I would have given her everything that she requires, and keep her happy and protected. But do you think it's bad to stay single for the rest of your life, Rodolfo? I hope I am not ugly enough like those people in the bar."

"You're not ugly, hermano." Rudy replied, continuing. "When the time is right, you'll get your special one. All I'd say.. is to just wait and see what you have in store. You'd have a good life ahead. Heck, who said that I already found one too?"

"Looks like we both are going to die single." Alejandro giggled with Rudy, and they continued with their conversation, and walked deeper into the forest, their attention suddenly went to the sounds of a horse running in the dense fields. Alejandro and Rudy looked around their surroundings, trying to find out who made the noise but it faded quite too early for them to realise what it can be.

Rudy gulped, backing off so he could be nearer Alejandro. ".. h-hermano what was that?"

"I'm not sure but.." Before Alejandro could speak any further, the sounds filled their ears once more, the two flinching in an instant. Likely, Alejandro finally saw the shadow of the horse running around them. Rudy too caught the glance, much to his confusion. "Why would a horse be running throughout the forest this dark?"

"We'll figure that out when we get to know about it." Alejandro extended his hand towards Rudy, nodding. "Are you with me, hermano?"

Rudy looked at his hand, which he offered, and willfully grabs it, nodding in response. The two follow the source of the sound while investigating. Rudy made sure that he didn't lose sight of Alejandro and get lost in the dense forest they were in. Being quite worried about what was ahead of them, Rudy kept a close eye on Alejandro.

They likely were searching around for minutes, and still didn't get anything. Something didn't feel right, and Rudy can sense it.

".. I'm not sure if we're doing this right, hermano. We should go back home." Rudy said, trying to convince Alejandro to stop following the unknown sound.

Alejandro looks at Rudy, but suddenly his ears fill with a certain melody, that drives him towards the forest. It felt like someone playing the guitar, strumming its strings to produce the same song that was played at your place. Rudy too could hear it, but what made him suspicious was that Alejandro was more driven into it.

Not realising yet why Alejandro started to walk towards the mysterious sound, without any hesitation. Rudy tried to stop his buddy, but it felt like he could no longer listen to him or anyone.

".. I followed him.. wherever he went. Ran. And at a point.. he stopped, at the place which took him to his ultimate, dreadful destiny." Rudy narrates the story, later on showing Alejandro who sees a black horse coming towards his direction, and knelt down so that he could sit on it. Rudy arrived on the spot, and quietly watched him hop on the horse's back as it neighs and trots its way to the large cave just a few miles away. Rudy without wasting an opportunity, follows the horse into the cave and makes sure he doesn't lose track of them.

It was quite dark, but luckily Rudy had his phone's flashlight for the support. Turning it on, he sees the cave very damp, dark and eerie. Why would the horse even take Alejandro to a weird location within the forest? As if it knows what it's doing?

Rudy takes a step forward, to take a look at the surroundings of the cave he was presently in, till the time he hears the trotting of the horse again, and it makes him want to follow it. "Alejandro? Hermano, are you here?"

"I tried to find him, everywhere.. but it felt as if he vanished in thin air. I thought I lost him. Forever, under the hands of a mysterious happening that drove him in the darkness."

The scene shows Rudy exploring the deeper parts of the cave, when his eyes suddenly catch a glimpse of a light through his vision. Walking towards the light, he covered his face with his hand to block the excessive light hitting his eyes. When he reached the source, he couldn't believe it at all, as his eyes widened and mouth slightly gaped.

The cave was then filled with every carvings, drawings and scriptures as if it belonged to the ancient times. Rudy takes a glance at the rock paintings, about a mysterious man over a horse, haunting the people, along with writings that say:

"Dicen que si viene a tu casa, ¡corre!

(They say if he comes to your house, run!")

At first, Rudy was confused. But his suspicions grew more when he saw another painting on the rocks, about the same man, but he had a skull face, with a wide-brimmed hat, and a guitar on his back. He also rode on a black horse, the one Rudy and Alejandro paid attention to before. It's smirk was creepily disturbing that Rudy had the urge to leave. But until he couldn't find Alejandro, he just couldn't.

Suddenly, while Rudy was busy researching, he was quite curious about the mysterious light that was shining in the middle of nowhere. As he goes closer to it, the light glows more, and it bursts over Rudy, blinding his vision and making him fall on the ground and passing out.

A few moments passed, while Rudy was still passed out on the dusty sand because of the light. His mind started to show a bit of blurry images about a lifeless forest, damp and dark, with a man in a brimmed hat while he's on its horse. His pupils glowed green in color, staring at him. After the small vision, Rudy wakes up in cold sweat, panting heavily for air as he gets up and coughs. He calmed down and stood up on his feet, seeing the light before had vanished.

He then heard a loud scream from the distance, that looked clearly of Alejandro.

"Vargas?!" Rudy cried out loud, and he began to run as fast as he could, leaving the area behind. Rudy tried to reach on time so that he could rescue Alejandro, by searching every part of the cave. He panicked, hoping his friend wasn't in trouble. He almost tripped, or got himself injured, but didn't give up looking for Alejandro. Until that time, he found and observed him.. passed out on the cold ground, unconscious.

Rudy stopped midway, as the scene switched to the present, turning back to you, and Valeria who was listening to the conversation. Since you were curious to know what happens next, you pleaded if he continued.

"Then.. what?" You asked, softly. Rudy shook his head and sighed. "The rest is history, Y/N. This is where, it all started. No one knew that Alejandro was actually going to be inflicted by the El Charro Negro's influence, and immediately becoming it's host. The reason why Alejandro bumped into you and didn't recognise your appearance was because.. it wasn't him. At all. He has his own mind. The El Charro Negro has it's own mind. Both are separate." Rudy stands up from his seat, as he looks at himself in the mirror.

".. so it likely means.. Alejandro doesn't know me.. but the El Charro Negro?" You assumed.

"Exactly." Valeria confirmed.

"Who is he exactly? I have never heard about this monster before."

"The El Charro Negro is a demonic entity, who's work is to trade souls after offering humans something which they find to be.. beloving. Let it be gold coins, power, love.. it uses these things to lure people in its trap and take their souls. Whatever Alejandro did was an act of love so he can take yours too, this is why.. I came there to protect you on time."

"But.. there's something I didn't understand.. if you knew, how did you enter the alternative reality Alejandro created?" You asked.

Rudy sighed. "When the light hits my face.. I never realised that I might not have become the host of the demon, but just inherited some of the abilities that allow me to travel realities. I never told you this because I was trying to act human, but I'm the only one who knows how to stop Alejandro, and the demon taking all over him. He's strong, powerful, and dangerous.. he can do anything. Especially to reach you."

".. what did he find so special in me that he wants to take my soul?"

"Because that's what is so special in women like you who have a rare soul, miel." Valeria spoke. ".. I realised the fear in your eyes when Alejandro bumped into you back, there was a reason you were once a victim to his trap too."

"Were you.. also engaged with Alejandro for the same?"

".. likely.. but this man saved me. This is why, to prevent any further danger, I wish to stay with Rodolfo at all costs." Valeria walks towards you. ".. and I don't want you to be a part of the trouble. I hope you don't face what I did."

"I'm.. sorry you went this way.." You looked at Valeria, sadly, understanding her issue. Hearing their pleas to stay with them so that you could be safe, you just couldn't turn back now. From the mess you've entered, there was an urge to get out of it. And to make sure you were protected, staying with Rudy is a necessity.

But, a part of you said.. was it right to just call Alejandro a monster? When it feels as if he had no intention of being possessed by the monster and has no idea what's going on? That could have been terrifying for a person who thinks he's so pure but when he turns back he finds himself in an area of dead bodies, not even knowing what he had done. The inner conflict.. the struggle. To understand him.

Should you trust Rudy?

Sighing, and then getting up from the couch, you nodded at Rudy, speaking your decision.

"I'm in."

#cod #call of duty #cod mw #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw22 #call of duty modern warfare 2022 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x you #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo parra #valeria garza #call of duty x reader #under my spell

[reifromrfa]

Short fic: Mafia AU | Jumin

I saw this artwork by @ranartinart and got inspired to write something short for my love, Jumin Han ;w; Thank you for your lovely art! :)

Reposted with permission from @ranartinart <3 Check it out here!

Wrote this fic while listening to this playlist ♪( ´θ｀)ノ

Trigger Warning: Violence

Story under the cut! This was purely self-indulgent haha! I feel as though I'm a little rusty with mysme so apologies in advance if it feels ooc ^^;; Enjoy~

★・・・・・・★

His precise steps against the marbled floor echo through the hallway. He isn't in a hurry; in fact, he takes his time, allowing the rage to bubble up inside him. He keeps his expression composed though, his head held high, his cold, steely eyes staring straight ahead, at the door on the end of the hallway.

Men and women bow to him as he passes, all of them avoiding his gaze. Finally, he reaches the door and his men open the door for him. Assistant Kang sees the man kneeling in the middle of the room, a few bruises already visible on his face and arms. She feels no pity for him, especially after he'd attempted to kidnap MC. Though MC was unharmed, Jaehee knows that this man will probably die here tonight. Honestly, he had a far better chance of surviving had he attempted to kill her boss, the mafia king of South Korea. But attacking his wife? His queen?

Jaehee looks at him with disdain as Jumin hands her his coat.

"Good riddance," she thinks to herself, turning on her heel. She makes a small gesture and the guards in the room follow her out, leaving Jumin alone with the man.

Jumin carefully folds his sleeves up, watching the man with cold, calculating eyes. The man glares at him, his hands bound behind his back.

"You motherfucker. You can't keep me here! They're gonna come lookin' for me! And when they do, they're gonna take you down, you bastard! You'll see. You're gonna be fucking sorry!" the man spits out, staring hatefully at Jumin.

Jumin arches a brow, continuing to fold his sleeves on his other arm. His voice is calm, low, as though he's having a casual conversation and not being threatened by this piece of scum. "Oh? I'd like to see them try."

The man becomes angrier, as though Jumin’s calm facade is somehow an insult to him. “Don’t you fucking know who I am, huh? I am—”

“You are irrelevant to me,” Jumin interrupts, crossing his arms as he looks down on the man. His expression darkens as he studies the lowlife who dared to touch his MC. Who dared to even breathe the same air as her. “I do not need to know your name, I do not need to know who you are, what you’re worth. All I need to know is this:

You meant to harm my wife.”

Jumin watches as a small smile appears on the man’s face. His jaw clenches as he holds himself back. Not yet, he tells himself. Not yet.

“Your wife? MC? Yeah, she’s a real beauty. I remember those scared cries she made when I grabbed her. I bet she sounds real good in bed, huh? I bet—”

The man never gets to finish his sentence. Instead, he has a split second to widen his eyes before Jumin’s fist collides with his jaw. The man hears a crack but it’s quickly forgotten as pain shoots up his cheek, his jaw. His head whips harshly to one side and he tastes blood in his mouth.

Jumin grits his teeth and grabs the man by his hair, forcing him to face Jumin again.

“How dare you talk about my wife that way. How dare you even utter her name with that filthy mouth of yours. You have no right to even walk in the places her feet have touched. You have no right to breathe the air she breathes. You have no right at all to LIVE in the world she exists in.”

The man attempts to scowl but it turns into an ugly grimace, his jaw throbbing. “When I get outta here, I’m gonna fuck her and make you watch, you sonovabitch!” He’s about to spit at Jumin Han’s face when Jumin releases his hair and hits him with an uppercut, effectively slamming his teeth together. Jumin steps back and watches as the man chokes on his own spit, violent coughs making his shoulders heave. Blood starts to trickle down the side of his lips, down his chin; to Jumin, that vermin’s blood is like coal that fuels the deep loathing he feels towards said vermin. He wants more, more of the man’s blood to spill until he is on the brink of death.

“What makes you think you’re getting out of here? Do you think that highly of your comrades? Do you think they would come for you…at the risk of becoming my enemy?” Jumin lets out a mirthless chuckle.

“You’re sorely mistaken.

No one is coming to save you.”

“Think of it like this…” Jumin yanks on the man’s hair again, pulling him to his feet. He leans closer. In a low, soft voice, he speaks to the man —like Death’s whisper to a dying soul.

“You’re dead to them. In fact…you’re dead to everyone. There’s not a person who would want to be affiliated with you now. There’s not a single soul who will even speak your name anymore. Because if they do, I will not only obliterate every trace of their existence from the world, I will also ensure that their life becomes a living hell. They will spend every waking moment in a dark cell, suffering, praying they were dead, and every time they close their eyes they will be plagued with nightmares of the pitiful, painful, pathetic life ahead of them.”

The man struggles to remain upright, his hands still bound behind his back as blood starts to soak the front of his shirt. A muscle in Jumin’s jaw twitches as he stares at the hideous expression on the man’s face.

“You asked me if I knew who you are? Yes, I know who you are. I also know where you parents are, your sister and her family, even the bastard son you’re hiding from your employer.” At his words, Jumin sees the man’s face pale. “Here, we place a high value on family. That’s why I sought to learn about your family.”

“If you fucking touch them, I fucking swear I’ll—”

“You’ll…what? Kill me?” Jumin’s eyes flash and his lips curl in a small, taunting smirk. “That’s what you should have done. You should have killed me instead of going after my wife.”

Jumin approaches the man and now, he sees the man take a small step back.

“You’re only fucking cocky ‘coz you’re beating up a defenseless man! You think this is a fair fight?!”

“Fair?” Jumin’s eyebrow arches. “Fair?” He tilts his head ever so slightly, looking at the man in disbelief.

“Why would I stoop to your level and make this fair?”

He takes another step towards the man and the man’s eyes widen as he takes a step back.

“I was born with every advantage…why wouldn’t I use them? To, as you put it, ‘make this fair’? Why? You certainly thought it was fair to take advantage of a woman who’s smaller than you…and now you call me ‘cocky’ for beating you while your hands are bound?”

Jumin closes the gap between them and delivers a swift punch to the man’s solar plexus. The man chokes and gasps for air, wheezing as Jumin throws another punch…and then another.

The man feels his knees buckle as his body topples forward. But before he can even fall, Jumin grabs his shoulders and pushes the man down at the same time raising his knee and driving it further on the same spot.

“Get this through your thick head,” Jumin says vehemently, now letting his anger take over. Gone is his composure, all he can see now is this man stalking his wife, touching her, laughing at her horrified expression, thinking about the terrible things he’d do to MC…all because she’s Jumin’s queen.

“Life will never be fair.” Jumin keeps his grip on the man, not giving him a chance to straighten. He slams his knee against the man’s abdomen and now he can hear the man wheezing hard, his gasps turning raspy, desperate.

“You and I will never be on the same level.”

“P-lea—”

Jumin scowls at the man. He dares try to interrupt Jumin? Jumin takes a slight step back before slamming the man’s face down on his knee.

“Shut up. You don’t even deserve to be talking. I’ll have your tongue cut out…eventually.”

Jumin releases the man and he falls to the ground like a pathetic rag doll. The man is still wheezing, taking in short, quick breaths. Jumin watches him struggle to breathe, a rush of satisfaction filling him as he sees the man’s bloody face, his nose broken, his lip busted, his eyes swollen and drooping.

But still, this will never be enough. There’s never a good enough punishment for someone who has ill intentions towards Jumin Han’s family. Especially his Queen.

Jumin uses the front of his shoe to push the man onto his back. The man’s wide eyes dart to Jumin as he starts to choke on his own blood. But Jumin merely places a foot on his chest and leans forward, putting all his weight on the foot that’s right over the man’s lungs.

“Now…I’ve established that I know you. But…

Do you know who I am?”

Jumin’s steely gaze never leaves the man’s face, his icy expression showing no hints of mercy. In fact, he leans forward more, pressing his foot deeper.

”I am Jumin Han. I am the most powerful man in Asia.

From now on, your life is in MY hands. If you breathe it is because I’m letting you breathe. But don’t worry, I assure you, breathing will be a luxury for you. Like I said before, I was born with every advantage at my fingertips.

I intend to use my power to make your life into something far worse than the hell you’ve imagined.

About your family…I won’t hurt them. Yet. It all depends on whether you cooperate or not. You may think this is a sick, cruel game…I want to assure you yet again that yes, this is my sick, twisted game for simpletons with a death wish.”

The man’s face is turning purple as he desperately opens his mouth to try to get air into his lungs. Jumin just stares at him for a few seconds, watching the red lines creeping into the man’s eyes. Jumin eases his foot over the man’s lungs and he waits until the man intakes a couple of short breaths before pushing against his chest again.

“You’ve made a grave mistake, turning me into your enemy…but now I’ll be more than that. I’ll be the demon that haunts your every move. I’ll be your personal Grim Reaper, collecting blood and instilling fear in you.

Every day.

For the rest of your meaningless existence.”

Jumin lifts his foot from the man’s chest and he gazes down at his work. The man has tears flowing down the sides of his face, bruises and cuts all over his body —at least, the parts that Jumin can see. Jumin is sure the man has a cracked rib or two as well.

To him, this punishment is still nothing compared to the trauma this pathetic idiot instilled in MC. But he’ll have to stop for now; he doesn’t want the man to die that same night. No…Jumin wants him to live a long, miserable life.

Without another word, Jumin heads for the door, where Assistant Kang is already waiting with a towel in her hands. Jumin takes it, wiping away the man’s blood from his hands.

“I want him looked at but make sure he’s bound tightly. Only patch up the wounds that are fatal. Then transfer him to our warehouse, put him in a coffin and make him think he’s going to be buried alive; I trust you’ll oversee this, Assistant Kang?”

“Of course, sir. I’ll send you a recording afterwards.”

“Good. He can stay there for the evening, but make sure to check the CCTVs in the coffin every now and then. I want him to live for a long time. In the morning, move him to a cell and only give him water. No food, no lights, no toilets, no requests. I’ll call you with further instructions tomorrow. Do I make myself clear?”

The guards around Jaehee reply in a rush, the menacing aura Jumin is exuding, scaring even them. Jaehee waves the guards towards the man and they get to work.

“Oh, and Assistant Kang?”

Jaehee turns to her boss, watching him holding the blood-stained towel. She never thought she’d be working for the most powerful man in the continent, but she’s also grateful that she is. There’s no mercy in Jaehee’s heart towards the man who could have taken someone precious from them, and she’s glad her boss can inflict the most damning punishment onto that man.

“Yes, Mr. Han?”

“Make sure that man or anyone affiliated with him will never get anywhere close to my wife. If they do, kill them. I want all our men to know that.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Good. I’ll leave this to you, then. Have a pleasant evening, Assistant Kang.”

Jaehee watches him go, as though he didn’t just nearly beat a man to death. But at the end of the day, they’re all just pawns on Jumin’s chessboard.

She pities any fool who dares to take on the king and his queen.

★・・・・・・★

I hope you liked it! Thank you for reading <3 Don't forget to follow @ranartinart too <3

Check out my other Mysme writings here!

Mango Shake/Ko-fi is always very much appreciated (ᵔᴥᵔ)

#mystic messenger #mysme #mm #jumin han #mysmes #jumin x mc #jumin #mysme jumin #jumin mafia #mafia au #short story #mysme fic #mm oneshot #mm jumin #ranartinart art #ranartina #please check out her works! #they're so inspiring <3 #fanfic #mm fanfic #mm fanfiction #dark fic #mafia jumin #violence

[mimisempai]

Unexpected

Summary

When Casey followed Hunter B-15 to meet the man she called O.B., he certainly didn't expect to meet his lifelong idol, Ouroboros, the author of the book that never left his side.

But what he also didn't expect was that the other man would be so kind and have the most charming smile.

Notes

I fell in love with these two sunshines…

On Ao3

Rating G - 870 words

Casey followed Hunter B-15 and had no idea where she was taking him. But he appreciated not being tied to his desk and finally felt like he was doing something useful, so he eagerly followed her.

They arrived in a semicircular room that seemed empty, and B-15 called out, "Hey, O.B., this is Casey. I thought he could help."

A voice answered, "We're all gonna die!" but no one was visible.

Advancing into the room, B-15 called out again, "O.B.?"

Rapid footsteps drew their attention to the left, and Casey saw a man emerge from the stairs, shouting again, "We're all gonna die!"

Then, to Casey's surprise, he stopped in front of him and shook his hand vigorously, saying, "Oh. Hey, nice to meet you."

Then he gave him a quick smile and, not giving Casey a chance to react, continued on toward B-15, repeating, "We're all gonna die."

The hunter asked, "What do you mean?"

The man, O.B., put his things on a desk and turned to them and said, "The blast doors won't open."

Casey interjected, "Did you try the C-12 bypass?"

Then, putting his money where his mouth was, he pressed the appropriate control button as O.B. replied, "That won't work.

Casey chuckled slightly and asked a little mockingly, "Are you sure?"

The man casually replied, "Of course. I wrote it."

Casey froze and said nothing for a moment, mouth agape.

This guy had just said he'd written the command. But then... that meant...

Casey managed to articulate despite his stupor, "Wait..."

He pulled out the booklet he always kept in the back pocket of his pants and asked, barely able to contain his excitement, "You're Ouroboros?"

O.B. looked surprised that Casey had asked as he replied, "Yes?"

Casey, wanting to be sure, asked, pointing to the orange booklet, "You wrote the TVA guidebook."

The other man looked absolutely delighted when he asked, "You've read it?"

Casey immediately replied, not a little proudly, "Read it? I practically memorized it," then laughed slightly as he looked at B-15 before asking the other man, "Will you sign mine for me?"

O.B. replied enthusiastically, "Of course I will. Happy to do it."

They both leaned over the book and Casey showed him where to sign, "Yeah, just next to your picture."

"Hold on." 

It was B-15.

Casey had completely forgotten about her, and apparently O.B. had as well.

When she got their attention back, she continued, "You just said we're all gonna die."

O.B. became serious again, and in the same state of stress as at the beginning of the conversation, as he said, "Oh, right. The containment doors are locked, and only the person who designed it can open it with a live scan of his temporal aura."

B-15 caught on and calmly said, "He Who Remains."

O.B. continued, "And he's dead. So without Miss Minutes to help us override the lock, we're stuck."

Casey replied matter-of-factly, "So we have to convince a rogue artificial intelligence to come back to work.

O.B. replied, "Whatever we're doing, we gotta do it fast. The more those branches grow, the closer this thing comes to melting down. I'll build the device, but you need to find a way in or it won't matter."

They stood in silence for a moment, overwhelmed by the magnitude of the task, then B-15 was the first to come to her senses and headed for the door. Casey followed suit when he was held back by O.B., who had put his hand on his arm.

Casey turned to him and although he looked worried, O.B. asked gently, "If you don't mind... uh, Casey. I'd like you to come and talk to me about what you learned in my manual. That is, if we can get this mess straightened out. You're the first person to talk to me about it like this in... I don't know how long, and since I've never had any real feedback, I'd love to hear yours."

The last few months had brought many changes to Casey's life. Sometimes unsettling, sometimes very destabilizing, but the fact that someone wanted to talk to him and listen to what he had to say wasn't one of them.

And there was no way he was going to turn down an invitation from his all-time idol. The mysterious person behind the ingenious and practical words of the TVA guide.

So with a big smile on his face, Casey held out his hand and said, "It's a deal!"

O.B., also smiling, took Casey's hand, and this time the handshake was not hasty and rushed like the first one, the glances and smiles were not the polite ones of people who don't know each other, but of two people with a common interest. That, too, was new to Casey.

As he left, he told himself that he'd try to help as much as he could on his own level so that he could visit O.B. as soon as possible.

Of course, he was looking forward to talking about the manual, and his haste had absolutely nothing to do with O.B.'s smile.

Nothing at all.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

#Loki #ouroboros #OB #Casey #OB x Casey #Casey x OB #Time nerds #LokiS2 #loki s2 spoilers #LokiS2Spoilers #LokiSeason2Spoilers #Loki Season 2 Spoilers

[theladyofbloodshed]

I made this request a long time ago, but it doesn't hurt to try again...

I'd like to see the human or fae Nesta (it's up to you) losing her virginity with Cassian, it could be at the Mating Ceremony... Like I said I'm sure Nesta had this romantic dream of having her first time with the man she loves, so I'd like to give her this gift 🥰❤️

So, as usual, I cannot write succinctly. This is part one of (I think) a three part fic. It is set shortly after the war. Instead of letting Nesta spiral into depression, Cassian sees the signs that she's struggling and tries to help her. Nesta pushes and pushes at first in this part.

Recovery - A Post-ACOWAR Nessian Fic - Part One

The war had been a brutal, awful affair. One month had passed since Elain had driven Truth-Teller into the king’s neck. One month since Nesta sawed the knife through every tendon and bone then held his decapitated head aloft like a trophy. One long month of working to heal the wounds.

As soon as Madja gave the exasperated go ahead that he could be on the move again, Cassian had flown swiftly to Illyria. It was important that he be seen amongst his people during a time of grief to acknowledge their pain and carry the burden with them. Rhys was still seen as an outsider – not a true Illyrian – and Azriel never wanted to be part of their culture. It fell to Cassian to break the news to families that their sons were not coming home. That fathers had departed this world. Many families already knew – ones who waited and waited for a male to return but never did. Grief was different in everybody. Some walled it away, never willing to look at it for long. Others carried it with them through every moment. Grief could be a sharp point or a dull ache.

Illyria would heal from it as it always did. It never gave much time to grief or sadness. It always donned its armour once again and started anew, no matter how broken it felt on the inside. To show vulnerabilities was a weakness.  

As Cassian stood in silence watching Devlon and his second cataloguing their cache of weapons, he understood what Rhys had meant when he’d called Nesta Illyrian. It wasn’t the brutality or backwards-nature. No, it was the way she could bury her feelings. Devlon had lost a son in the war, but continued on, hard-faced, never showing signs that he was breaking down.

Since the war, Cassian and Nesta had barely exchanged more than a few barked syllables. She shut down everyone. There had been a hope in those initial days of healing that Nesta might come to his bedside and seize an opportunity to be with him, but she never came. She never initiated their blunt conversations – though she didn’t seem to want to initiate conversation with anybody else either.

Their lives were a sequence of almosts. She had let him kiss her once as a mortal. She had worried for him at the battle in Summer Court. She had noticed his sprained wrist then tended to it with utmost care. She had shielded his body with her own and been ready to die at his side. Almost. Almost. Almost. They were always almost something, like fingers brushing past each other, outstretched hands never quite being able to gain purchase.

Nesta had isolated herself from the others. Cassian wasn’t even sure if the others had noticed that her appearances at dinner became shorter or less frequent. Nesta took to evening walks alone despite autumn waning and the winds becoming brisker. Sometimes Cassian would trail her and she’d head for a tavern or would sit alone on a bench. If she was meeting somebody, it would be different, but Nesta was always alone. When she departed taverns, her eyelids would be drooping, her steps sluggish and unsteady. If a male tried to speak with her, she ignored him and breezed past. If her father ever became the topic of conversation, she’d leave the room. Nobody ever noticed. Nesta moved like a ghost, content to be in solitude. Where Elain had once been lethargic and morose, she was now growing more confident and sociable. The elder sister, who had protected and cared for her, who had ensured she ate and was safe, wilted more each day. And sometimes it felt as if Cassian was the only one who saw it. Mor dismissed her as thinking she was too good for them. Feyre said that was always how Nesta was. Rhys had shrugged and said she was an Illyrian at heart. Nesta was broken. And she was doing an excellent job of masking it.

His flying took him back to Velaris. The trees stood as if Feyre had painted them in gold. A brisk wind carried fallen leaves up into the air and children leapt from pile to pile searching for the ones with the best crunch. He spied Nesta in one of her usual haunts; a bench facing the river in a secluded area. It was the furthest she could get from the graveyard where her father’s headstone lay.

Cassian would do anything to take that blank expression from her features. He’d take white-hot anger over this muted coldness. The spark had guttered out from her eyes. On the rare occasion that Nesta was present at their gatherings – which was usually when they unfolded in a room she had already been situated in and she would depart soon after they began – she would stare unblinking, as if it was an agony to be around them. There had been no sign of her powers since the war, no sign that Nesta was at risk of losing control. Amren had reached her hand out for her a number of times, but Nesta declined invitations, preferring isolation. Even Amren had no sympathy for Nesta anymore.

The bench was too far out of the city’s centre for it to be coincidence that Cassian had come across her, but he found that he didn’t care. If she snarled at him for following her, that tinder might bring her back to life.

He yawned loudly and plopped down on the bench beside her. One of his wings tracked a line across her bony shoulder. Usually, that sort of friendliness would be met with a hiss or a growl, but Nesta remained staring at the shining water running by as if she had known he’d been watching her for the last five minutes and expected his imminent arrival.

In place of the softness of her face was now hard edges and emptiness. She’d lost weight – too much for her size. Her hair was duller, lacking the usual golden shine. The nails on both hands had been gnawed to the quick, but she quickly tucked them away into her thin sleeves and drew her arms around her shaking body. How long had she been out for? Had the whole day been spent wandering the city alone like a lost soul? And they all just let her. They weren’t her jailers by any means, but where was the same care that they all nurtured for Elain and even Feyre when she first came to the Night Court? Who ensured Nesta ate and slept?

Nesta was a female of action, not words. There was no use trying to coax out a conversation when she barricaded all of her feelings behind an impenetrable fortress. Cassian slipped off his thick jacket and draped it across her hunched shoulders. Her body tensed. Nesta reminded him of an animal that had been hurt too many times. She sized him up, readying herself to either attack or flee. He held back his comments, held back any words at all as he tucked the jacket around her body and sat beside her.

For a while, they remained in the quiet with the only sounds coming from the gurgle of the river. The bustle of the city was diluted here too, but it could still be admired along with the stretch of mountains that the House of Wind was carved into.

‘I’m here. When you want me. When you need me. I’m here.’

Her brow drew downwards then she tightened the jacket around her body. When the street lamps were lit with their flickering yellow flames, Nesta stood.

‘Can I walk you home?’

Cassian knew better than to try and fly her. The few times she had flown since Rhys had flown her fast enough to vomit had been times of necessity, never for pleasure. Inviting her into his arms, as much as he wanted it, would not be well-received.

There was no reply nor did she wait for him as she began her steady march back towards the Town House. He matched her strides easily and was surprised when Nesta didn’t shoo him away. Her pace slowed slightly as if savouring the last inhales of the crisp city air.

A void had steadily grown between them. Too much time has passed since the war. The time to go to her side and assure her that his declaration hadn’t been meaningless had long since passed. It was a bitter regret that grew larger with each day.

The Town House was dark and cold when Nesta pushed open the front door. She stood in the hallway, blinking softly to adjust to the darkness. Cassian couldn’t decipher her expression – relief that nobody else was home or disappointment that nobody else was home.

‘First chilly night of the year,’ he said brightly. ‘I hated winter as a child. Different story as an adult.’

Nesta was already half-way up the stairs, not listening or choosing to ignore him.

When the click of her bedroom door echoed in the silent house, Cassian let out a pained sigh. Winter had been hell as a child. The days were cold but the worst of it was kept at bay with relentless training. The nights were painful, more about survival than anything else. For a little boy with nobody in the world to help him, he did not know how he had survived those brutal winters with a thin tent and a scrap of a blanket. He had always had hope. Hope had been that light which guided him through the worst nights; this mad dream that someday life would be better. And it had gotten better through chance. Through someone seeing him for the scared little boy who he was and reaching out a hand to help him.

He scrubbed at his face with his cold hands then knelt in front of the hearth to begin working a fire. Nesta needed help. It was a tight-rope of respecting her wishes or overriding them to do what was best for her.

The flames had begun to lick at a large log when Rhys breached his mind.

Where’s our favourite stray?

In your house, he replied. Where are you?

Dinner at the House of Wind. We’re all here. Come and join us.

Cassian’s stomach dropped. No, they weren’t all there. Nesta remained upstairs, discounted from the group.

Before he knew what he was doing, he’d flown up the stairs to her room and knocked on the wood. How many times had he hovered outside it in the past hoping she’d open it the moment he passed so they could have a verbal spar? That was before the war had changed her irrevocably. Now, he tip-toed past her room to ensure she was still breathing.

‘Nes, I’m headed to the House of Wind for dinner. Do you want to join us?’

When no answer came, Cassian gathered his courage and pushed the door open. The room was immaculate. Not a single item was out of place – not that she had much. Rhys had offered Nesta no end of employment opportunities within the Night Court, but she had politely declined each one. Elain received a small pouch of money each month from Feyre that she spent on different trinkets, flowers, and gifts for the high lady. Nesta’s own amount never seemed to be spent. More often than not, she tried to return the money to Feyre. A few books were stacked neatly on the desk, another was on her bedside table next to an oil lamp. She had opted for the smaller bedroom, giving Elain the larger. It was tidy and barely lived in. The bedsheets were pulled taut across the frame though Cassian knew she had asked Nuala and Cerridwen not to enter her room for cleaning, preferring to have her privacy. He and his brothers had joked that maybe she was messy and didn’t want people seeing her chaos. No, this room was Nesta in its entirety.

At the sight of him in her doorway, about to step onto the cream carpet in his boots, her eyes went wide. ‘Do not step in here.’

He could have wept now that he’d finally heard her speak for the first time that day. ‘Why? Who are you hiding under the bed?’

The light guttered out from her eyes again despite his teasing. He would not let it go out fully. Could not.

‘Are you coming for dinner? I’ll fly gently.’

‘No.’

‘Your sisters are there. You could bring back a few more books too. I’ll fly you back when you’ve-’

Nesta had risen. A small hope fluttered in his chest that she was accepting the invitation, but she merely closed the bedroom door then bolted it.

It stung. Cassian wished he could reverse time, go back to the days just after the war and go to her, even with his shredded wings. He should have sought her out sooner. Violence was brand new to her. He walked with death every day of his life; Nesta hadn’t.

Her footsteps hadn’t sounded, so Cassian knew that Nesta stood just behind the door still without making a move back to the bed. He couldn’t explain how he knew. It happened a lot though. He could fly from Illyria and happen to drift past the streets she’d walked, pick up on her scent, know which tavern she was in by some innate knowledge.

‘There’s a fire burning in the living room if you’re cold. I’ll put the grate in front of it. I’m heading out now.’

Not even the cool night winds could dampen the hot anger coursing through Cassian’s veins. Why wouldn’t Nesta let anyone help her? Even Elain had preferred to spend time with the group than with her elder sister recently. Nesta had successfully pushed everybody away. And Cassian couldn’t figure out why.

Night was creeping in earlier and earlier with the encroaching winter, so the red stone mountain stood as if aflame in the starlight. A couple of sconces had been lit along the landing roof to illuminate the path. One of his knees popped from the force of his landing there. He couldn’t shake the haunted image of Nesta sat bolt upright on her bed – likely where she’d remain until she slipped into the covers to sleep.

‘Evening.’

Azriel’s cold, flat voice made him jump. He whirled around, searching for his brother but saw only darkness. From the shadows, cobalt siphons came into view then he heard a low chuckle.

‘You need to stop skulking around in the shadows.’

‘I only do it to give you a fright.’

Cassian gave him a shove in shoulder. ‘I thought everybody was already here.’

Az nodded. ‘We are. I said I’d wait for you out here. If I have to hear the word darling again, I might hang myself.’

They were happy for Rhys, especially with what happened to him in the war – and all the ordeals prior. But, Cauldron, were their love-sick eyes beginning to grate. Mor blocked it out with wine. Amren blocked it out with Varian’s mouth.

Dishes were already laid out and the group had begun to serve themselves. It wasn’t malicious, Cassian told himself as he counted the number round the table. Lucien at one end, making hesitant conversation with Varian. Amren beside him. Mor beckoning to an empty seat beside her. Another empty one for Az. Feyre and Elain chatting about their day while Rhys twirled his fingers through Feyre’s hair. A happy scene. And yet Cassian couldn’t stop himself from asking the questions he already knew the answers to just to hear their reactions.

‘I thought we were all here.’

‘We are now,’ Mor said brightly, patting the seat again.

Az slunk past him into the chair, but Cassian planted his feet. ‘Where is Nesta?’

He had no issue with Varian, but that he was thought of in higher regard than Nesta rattled something loose in Cassian’s chest.

‘She wouldn’t want to come,’ Feyre explained.

‘So did you invite her?’

Rhys waved a hand to pile all of Feyre’s favourite bits onto her plate. ‘We’ve invited her to many and she always refuses. Let’s eat.’

But Cassian couldn’t. How could he enjoy himself when Nesta sat alone in the Town House, broken and defeated? How the hell did he even think flying here was a good idea?

‘I can’t stay,’ he said, turning on his heel. ‘Enjoy your dinner.’

Their voices carried down the corridor in an indistinct clamour. Cassian ignored it all. If he didn’t go to Nesta now, tomorrow it would just be another regret, another strike of the chisel against that ever-growing void between them.

One of Nesta’s books had been placed on the arm of the chair in the living room but her scent was faint, as if she had only been in the room for a few moments. The fire still burnt though no new wood had been added to it since he left. Perhaps Nesta did not even know how to take care of a fire. He didn’t know. Didn’t know such basic things about her despite knowing if they were to die on that battlefield, it would have been together.

A quick search of the house indicated that Nesta had gone back out. And in heartbeats, Cassian was following her scent of soft vanilla mixed with jasmine. Once he’d crossed two bridges, he knew exactly where she was headed. There was a tavern she favoured more than the others although he could not think why. It had a reputation for being rough, the drinks cheap but watered down, and the owner to be a vile male.

Sure enough, Nesta’s scent went right to the door where it mingled with the smells of strong alcohol and unwashed bodies. It was the worst district of Velaris. But Nesta wouldn’t know that. Nesta knew so little about their world.

For a moment, Cassian deliberated his entrance, not wanting to invoke her anger. But he decided that anger was a far better alternative to nothing, or to her being hurt by a patron.

Nesta sat in an alcove, already with a fair-haired male sitting close to her on the bench. One arm was draped around her shoulders, speaking into her ear. Her own hands were clutched to a glass of spirits poured over ice. Two empty glasses were already on the table, but the male was drinking ale from pewter tankards. It was not jealously burning in his chest, Cassian decided. Nesta disregarded the male with the same revulsion she seemed to have for everybody at the moment, but letting him sit so close and wrap an arm around her was novel.

‘Time to go.’

Chatter had died down as he’d pulsed through the tavern seeking Nesta. Even if he had not stepped foot in this establishment before, Cassian was recognisable by sight. Word of the war had spread too. The eyes that landed on him then shifted to Nesta, knowing her as the Cauldron-born Kingslayer.’

'I’m not ready to leave.’

Cassian’s wings twitched in response to her voice. ‘I was talking to him.’

The male had paled somewhat before scurrying back to whatever table he’d originally come from. Cassian took his seat, giving Nesta a few inches of space. Her hand splayed out on the table, ready to push herself upwards. He gripped her wrist. It was rash, ill-thought out. Nesta had stopped breathing. Her eyes were fixed upon his tanned hand around her slender wrist. The last time he had touched her, had been to cradle her face and kiss her.

I have no regrets in my life, but this. That we did not have time. That I did not have time with you, Nesta. I will find you in the next world - the next life. And we will have that time. I promise.

Because he could, because they had time now, Cassian stroked his thumb along her pale skin as his grip loosened. If she had pulled away now, departed, it would have been a rusty knife through the ribs. Nesta stayed. Her grey eyes still traced the path his thumb took.

‘What can I get you?’ A rough voice asked.

‘Two meals. Whatever is quickest.’

When the male had returned to the bar, Nesta frowned. ‘I don’t want to eat.’

‘Your body needs to,’ he said with finality.

Soup was the quickest. He had judged the place too harshly; the food was hot, pleasant to taste, and the dishes were clean enough. Nesta sat with her arm folded across her chest, dutifully ignoring the meal in front of her.

‘What can I offer you to get you to eat that?’

‘You could leave me alone for a start.’

It was a stupid idea that would not benefit him in the slightest, but Cassian offered, ‘Fine. You eat all of it. Even the bread and I’ll leave you alone.’

‘How long for?’

‘Until tomorrow.’

‘Evening.’

‘Deal.’

***

Over the next few days, Cassian fell into a strange series of agreements with Nesta. He never saw her. Never spoke to her. He hated it – but it was for her own good. He ensured Cerridwen and Nuala brought food to her room for dinner and he’d knock on her door a short while later. Nesta would ignore him, but when he went back a few minutes later, the dishes would be outside the door with only crumbs or smears of sauce remaining as evidence of the meal. She was beginning to eat breakfast too. Cassian would knock on her door in the morning before he flew to Illyria, threaten her that if she didn’t eat breakfast then she had to spend time with him, and the door would open a few inches, a hand would shoot out for the bowl of porridge then it would be left outside a short while later.

It was a stupid deal. He ought to have been offended that the threat of his company was so abhorrent to her, but if it made her eat regularly, Cassian found that was better. He’d much rather be ignored and Nesta was healthy than sit with a ghost who faded more each day.

‘How long will you two play this game for?’ Rhys mused.

‘It’s not a game,’ he replied shortly, readying himself for a rainy flight to Illyria. He’d promised an older female who’d lost her husband in the war that he’d help her stock up her woodstore ready for the winter.

‘Well, if you can, find out what’s wrong with the fireplaces.’

‘What?’

Rhys leafed through a number of documents on his desk absently. ‘She grew quite cross when Nuala lit a fire in her room a couple of days ago.’

‘She doesn’t like them going in her room.’

‘She also put out the fire in the living room not long after Cerridwen lit that one. And refused to let her light it again until Feyre came home then she returned to her room.’

Cassian catalogued that information in his mind. Another thing to bargain for though he didn’t have much to offer except his absence.

His day in Illyria stretched on and on. He felt too guilty to not help the others who needed it. There were so many females without males to help them in the approach of winter. Ones that could purchase their own firewood struggled to carry it far. His entire day was spent taking on chores whilst Nesta rattled through his head.

When he returned to the Town House, he found it empty. There were no signs that Nesta had eaten dinner – and the others were likely up at the House of Wind having theirs. He was struck by the cruelty of it, that even if Nesta wanted to join them, she had no way of accessing the house – and the Cauldron knew she was too proud to ever ask somebody to take her.

He sought out one of the wraiths in the kitchen and did his usual interrogation of Nesta’s dietary habits.

‘She left this morning.’

‘Left where?’

Nuala blinked at him with her large, dark eyes. ‘I do not know. There was a note for the high lady, but they have not been home to read it.’

Heat flooded his body. ‘Did she give any suggestion of where she was going? When she’d be back?’

This was the longest conversation he’d ever had with the twins – a fact both of them seemed to realise by the uncomfortable tension settling in. For Nesta, he would put that to one side.

‘I do not know,’ she repeated. ‘But she did take her belongings with her.’

Not caring if he was just a base-born brute from Illyria, Cassian tore into Rhys’ study and ripped open the letter that Nesta had left on the desk for Feyre. His eyes scanned the page. Every word of the elegant handwriting had his heart dropping further.

Dear Feyre,

Thank you for your hospitality. I have found my own lodgings and will spend a few days settling in. I will contact you soon with my new address.

Nesta.

The formality was jarring; it was a letter from a stranger, not a sister. Where would she go? Surely, Nesta would stay in the Night Court? He couldn’t calm the erratic flurry of his heart enough to think straight. Logic should have had him swooping for the House of Wind. Sense should have had him respecting Nesta’s wishes – or not shredding the envelope before Feyre had even known of the letter’s existence. Where Nesta was concerned, Cassian had no sense or logic, only passion. That was the reason he barrelled from the house, disregarding the foul weather, to search for Nesta.

He picked up her scent near her favourite tavern, but instead of leading to the entrance, it diverted paths down the grubby, cobbled streets in the northern portion of the city. The buildings here were old and crumbling in parts, built on top of each other like weeds fighting for sunlight. He’d told Rhys to tear it down decades ago. This was not a place for Nesta to be. Not a home. Then again, she had lost every home she had ever had.

‘Why are you here?’

There was no surprise on Nesta’s part. No, if she shared the same instinct as him, then likely she had known he was approaching long before his steps echoed in the stairwell.

‘The thing is,’ he drawled, ensuring his foot was jammed into the path of the door in case she tried to block him out. ‘You didn’t eat dinner today which means I am allowed to burden you with my presence.’

‘It’s not a burden.’

‘It’s not?’ Cassian swallowed.

‘No. It’s as enjoyable for me as stepping on a rusty nail. As thrilling as watching a fallen tree rot.’

‘Good,’ he declared, bypassing her sarcasm and forcing the door open to allow himself entry.

‘Out.’

‘Can’t do that, sweetheart. You didn’t keep up your end of the deal, so I won’t be keeping up mine.’

There was a tired, sagging settee in the small living room that likely came with the apartment. The kitchenette was grubby with long-standing oil stains splatted on the tiles. A threadbare rug had been strewn haphazardly in front of the empty hearth. There couldn’t be a place that was more of the opposite of Nesta than this one – and Cassian’s heart sank to see her stood in the centre of the tiny apartment.

Rain rattled on the thin window panes. One was even broken and soggy newspaper had been stuck over the cracks. A wind rattled through the gaps in the rotten frame.

‘I can teach you how to light a fire.’ He gestured to the hearth although there was no wood or tinder in the stores.

Nesta’s face paled. ‘No.’

‘It’s freezing in here, Nes.’

‘I’m fine.’

She wanted to push him away. She was trying as best she could. Cassian would be as stubborn as he knew how to be. The only way she was getting him out of that apartment was if she physically managed it.

‘Need any help unpacking? Or cleaning?’

‘I don’t want anything from you. Leave.’

‘Eat dinner and I’ll leave.’

 Nesta grimaced at the sight of the stove that she hadn’t yet scrubbed.

‘I have a new deal. If I get us food and bring it here, will you eat with me – then I’ll leave you alone?’

‘Why do you care?’

What could he say to that question? That since Nesta had stepped into his life, all other females were mere shadows as a result. There was no other that could ever bewitch him like she could. And with every passing day he became more regretful that he hadn’t gone to her after the war when she had needed him – needed anyone – to help her through the weight of her father’s death.

‘I care about you.’

She flinched from those words. His heart crumbled further. Not waiting for a response, he called over his shoulder that he would be back soon with food. He passed a screwdriver laid to one side where Nesta had screwed a new lock onto the door. Beside it were another two locks needing to be installed. If she thought that she needed four locks to keep her safe then Cassian wanted to bundle Nesta into his arms and carry her back to the Town House.

They ate quietly. Without a table, they ate with plates on their laps. Still, Nesta refused a fire even when she’d drawn a blanket over her lap and shivered with cold. He was glad to see her eating although she pushed her food around her plate and seemed to force down each mouthful. Cassian coaxed her to eat more with the promise that he’d depart when the plate was clean, however when that happened, Nesta did not shoo him from her sight. Not immediately at least. Instead, she searched for her cloak in the bedroom then a pair of boots.

‘Where are you going?’

‘Out,’ she replied shortly.

Nesta’s hand enclosed on the handle and she held the door open expectantly for him to leave. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, ‘I can help you. Put the locks on the door. Put a peg here for your cloak. I’ll fix anything here like the window. I can paint if you need it pa-’

‘Why?’

It was less a question, more a demand.

‘Because I want this to be a home for you.’

The corner of her mouth quirked up. ‘A home?’ A bitter laugh followed and Nesta gestured to the darkened corridor again as a sign it was time he departed.

Again, Cassian was bargaining for her health. If she ate three meals then he’d fix the leaking tap in the bathroom. If she waited for him at the tavern so he could safely walk her home then he’d repair the cracked tiles around the fireplace. All of these things, he’d have willingly done for her if she’d asked, but Nesta was too proud to ever ask for help, least of all from him.

#nesta x cassian #nessian #recovery

[blackjackkent]

Jaheira! Jaheira, we did it, we beat Ketheric! Are you proud of us? I hope you're proud of us! <3

"Our enemies spread like rub-rot. Treat one patch, and two more bloom in its place."

"An Elder Brain, bound by lost Netherese magic, with servants of the Dead Three holding the chain. Reminds me of old times."

Well, that's not exactly pride, but at least I don't have to explain the situation to you.

Some of the available conversation options here are asking her about her history with the Dead Three, mind flayers, etc. But those are a little weird given Hector's proclivity for history; he definitely knows all about her adventures with Caden and that it involved a clash with Bhaal and his followers and other such terrible things.

He is, however, bemused by the note of humor in her tone as she speaks.

"You almost seem like you're enjoying yourself."

She quirks an eyebrow at him. "Aren't you?"

Hector just kind of stares at her for a moment. And then thinks. The bewildering thing is that in this moment of relief, able to relax after all the horrifying experiences of the day, he does actually feel oddly happy, in a muted, exhausted sort of way. And he has started to realize that this experience has changed him fundamentally in a way that he may never come back from.

But enjoying himself?

"I've got a parasite in my brain," he says wryly. "Makes it hard to enjoy anything."

She looks at him thoughtfully for a moment, then nods. "You came here in search of a cure, but found a conspiracy instead. I can see how that would be disheartening." She reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder, gives it an encouraging shake. "But take courage. We have killed a man who could not die, and stripped the Absolute's army of its general. You have a Netherstone, and you're on the scent of two more."

She draws back, nods firmly, approvingly. "These Chosen have a reason to fear you. And I would like to be at your side when you confront them."

Again he stares at her - this time with more surprise than confusion. "You want to join me?" he asks. At his side he can sense Karlach starting to almost vibrate with held-in excitement, the heat around her starting to crest again. He swallows the urge to smile, keeps his expression as serious as possible.

"Of course," she says matter-of-factly. "Falling foul of Ketheric convinced me that my grand adventures were behind me - that even if I survived, I should hang up my blades. But you convinced me otherwise. We ventured into darkness together; now we've come out the other side, I'd say I'm feeling a little refreshed. When we reach Baldur's Gate, there will be even darker paths to tread."

She lifts one arm in a Harper salute, her pale eyes fixed on him. "I will follow you wherever they lead."

The only reason this whole conversation isn't the most incredible thing that is ever happened is because earlier today the daughter of a goddess offered him the same things. Jaheira is a hero of legend, and she's offering to fight at his side, to follow him?

What have I done, he thinks with faint bewilderment, to have earned so much trust? And what if I am not worthy of it, in the end?

But he tries not to let the uncertainty show on his face, just nods firmly in return. "I'll see you at camp," he answers.

She grins crookedly. "How does it compare to a shadow-cursed inn?" She chuckles; then the humor fades and she speaks more briskly, all business. "With the Absolute's army gone, the Risen Road should be clear. We can follow it all the way to Baldur's Gate. There's a Harper safehouse in Wyrm's Crossing - Danthelon's Dancing Axe. We'd do well to check in with them before entering the city proper. Beyond that, our course is yours to set. I can recall how to take orders, as well as give them."

----

"Holy shit, Soldier. Holy shit. Holy shit." Karlach starts grinning fit to burst as soon as Jaheira has walked away. "She's coming with us. She wants to follow you. What is happening?"

"One more strange thing in a terribly strange day," Hector murmurs, closing his eyes for a moment. Then he opens them and looks over at her, and smiles himself, seeing the excitement in her expression. "Well worth everything, to see you so happy right now, though."

"I can't fucking believe it," she says cheerfully, and throws an arm around his shoulders, hugging him against her side. "You take me to meet the best people."

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #bjk writes her own party banter #yaaaaaay jaheira acquired!

[mizukagami-takamagahara]

I don't have a perfect grasp on Jubei as a character yet (haven't even started a proper character study of him) but I was thinking about him the other day, and his role as a father. People like to talk/debate/joke about him being a good or bad parent, and I get that's its own conversation, but it got me thinking.

I ended up, uh, rambling here, so TLDR;

I think Jubei's decision to start taking in kids like Ragna, Luna and Sena was inspired by a lot of complicated feelings, including

Every time he leaves, thinking the kids will be safe, things go to shit- he's guilty for that and doesn't want to make the same mistake again. (Kokonoe clearly hated her childhood, he left the kids with Celica and then the Church Incident happened)

Ragna looks so much like 'Bloodedge,' there may have been a sense of closeness/familiarity there, and a desire to not leave his friend behind a second time- especially to face certain death again (Bloodedge v. Black Beast, kid Ragna v. Terumi)

Ragna's desire to hunt down and kill Terumi could also bring back memories of Tomonori, who Jubei let chase Terumi despite knowing he couldn't win- and surprise, surprise, Tomonori died. Could Jubei let another person make the same mistake??? Let a fucking kid do it?

Jubei never really agrees to be a father or a parent to these kids, and doesn't see himself as one. He agrees to be their teacher until they're strong enough to take care of themselves, because they have no one else.

Wow even my TLDRs are too fuckin' long

As for the theory/rant in its entirety, which may just repeat the same points in more words;

I'd argue that Jubei hasn't wanted to be a father since Kokonoe. I haven't been able to read the parts of Phase Shift where he and Nine are together, so I don't know how he felt about having a child on the way. But as I understand it, he didn't leave her until he was being framed as a terrorist, being hunted down, at risk of being executed/assassinated.

He left Kokonoe behind in hopes she would be safer without him. Ultimately that may not have been the best choice, but it was a reasonable choice for a man who would have to spend the rest of his life on the run. And since then, I don't think he's ever seen himself as a father.

He got involved in Ragna's life first when he rescued the sibling trio from the lab where they were being held. We don't know a hell of a lot about that story either, but it seems like he had zero intention of raising any of them. He brings them to Celica, where he thinks they'll be safe and he can fully trust that they'll be loved. He views Celica as capable of being a parent, but he knows he himself isn't. He's a wanderer, a warrior, he can't provide the kids the life they deserve. So, again, he leaves them behind, where he thinks they can have a better life.

But he's wrong. He's so, so wrong. After the attack on the church, Jubei's only remaining family is dead, and everything Ragna had is also gone, assumed dead. Jubei walked away once and hurt his daughter, he walked away twice and lives were lost.

I think his choice to take Ragna in, after that, was a complicated one. I don't think Jubei ever saw it as adoption. I'd argue that Jubei and Ragna are undoubtedly a family, but I don't think Jubei would call it that openly, and I definitely don't think he was looking at it like that at the start.

I think, for Jubei, it was the only choice left after his neglect had caused so much pain.

And I think, knowing Terumi was at the heart of it again, seeing Ragna's hatred and desire for revenge, I think maybe Jubei thought of Tomonori. The brother he lost because he let him chase Terumi alone. Maybe that circled back, as another person his inaction/abandonment had left to die. How could he walk away again? Let another person charge unprepared into a fight against Terumi? Let a kid do it?

And I find it pretty hard to believe that, looking at young Ragna, Jubei didn't see his old friend. Bloodedge. Someone who changed his life, someone he held onto the memory of years after the short time they knew each other. Someone who also 'died' (as far as Jubei knows) because Jubei left him behind- even if he was asked to, even if they agreed upon it, even if it was for the best.

And even then, Jubei never considers himself a father. He doesn't let or encourage Ragna to call him 'dad', even though it's clear he loves him like a son. He doesn't see himself as a father. He agreed to be a (combat) teacher. That's what Ragna wanted and (in Jubei's eyes) needed at the time. It's what Luna and Sena would later need of him. Jubei has been a warrior all his life- he can be a teacher. But I don't think he thinks he could be a father, and I don't think he would ever agree to be one if asked. Not since he lost Kokonoe.

#blazblue #jubei #tomonori #six heroes #ragna the bloodedge #kokonoe mercury #bb meta #jin kisaragi #platinum the trinity #saya #yuuki terumi #celica a mercury #ao no imakagami #I wrote this whole mess in one go so don't hold your breath #and like I said I haven't really studied Jubei's character #maybe my opinion will change once I really take a look at him #this is more a train of thought than a proper theory or analysis #but I think it's an interpretation of his character I don't see talked about a lot #and I think it might have merit #I also think this is the most thought-heavy thing I've written since my last concussion which is cool #glad I can still do that

[venusjeon]

nightmares

a joglar de gèsta drabble

a nightmare wakes you up, and taehyung helps you back to sleep.

♔ PAIRING: jongleur!taehyung x princess!reader

♔ GENRE: historical au, angst, fluff

♔ WORD COUNT: 0.8k

♔ WARNINGS: minor characters death, ptsd i'd say?, aNd ThEre wAs OnLy oNe Bed

♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: i weirdly dreamed this last night and since it's so short decided to write it down immediately lol so there ya go

1102

You stood in a corner, hugging your trembling body as your family discussed whether to die there in the throne room like cornered cowards, or trying to escape a castle infested with French soldiers. Either way, death was assured. It dawned on you just then.

“There is hope as long as we fight!” one of your brothers insisted, but the king shook his head.

“You’d have your mother and sister fight when they’ve never held a sword in their lives? Don’t be ridiculous,” he said from the throne, the queen beside him. “If you want to save yourself, go ahead, you might escape with some luck. But I won’t leave them to die alone.”

Your brother’s head turned to see guilt push the tears out of your eyes. At once, he rushed over and embraced you tightly, letting you know he wasn’t going anywhere and didn’t blame you for whatever was to happen.

“Lord of Aquitaine!” echoed a shout from somewhere in the castle. It was the voice of a young man, whom you assumed was Prince Jungkook. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

Another of your brothers gripped the helm of his sword. “That bastard!”

“Mother…” you cried, scared like a child, and she stood up from her throne to make haste to your side and hold your hands. “I don’t want to die.”

An idea came to her. “You won’t, my darling. You’ll hide.” She made you move behind one of the curtains that was so long it reached the floor.

“What about the rest of you? Only I–”

Your sentence was cut short by the door opening abruptly. There he was, the prince. Shrouded from his sight, you could however see from your hiding place the lack of hesitation on his face right before he ran your family with his sword, a grin on his face even when their blood splattered all over him. As you held your breath, forced to ignore the final screams of your mother, one of Prince Jungkook’s men called him. He was going to leave.

But a sob betrayed you, and his eyes landed on yours.

There the nightmare ended, for that was all it was. You woke up in a cold sweat, heart going so fast you were sure it was trying to beat its way through your chest. Your breathing was no better, but that you could remedy with slow, deep breaths, which you had to sit up to take. With each of them, reason returned to your mind.

You weren’t in BORDÈUS, but at an inn near ORLÉANS. With Taehyung.

“They will pass.”

Startled, you turned around to see the jongleur at the other side of the bed, hands behind his head and gaze fixed on the opposite wall.

“What?”

“The nightmares, they will pass. The crying in your sleep too.”

Your fingertips flew to your cheeks, where they became wet instantly. Goodness’ sake... “Did I wake you?”

“No, but you did make noise,” Taehyung sighed as though the conversation bored him—it might have been that he was annoyed he couldn’t fall asleep, but being a prick sounded more like him. “I almost had to shush you, lest anyone came to complain.”

“I’m sorry…” As you lied down again, facing him, a thought slipped into your mind. Should you? No… But maybe, “Taehyung?”

“Mh?”

You played with a loose thread on the sheets as you reminisced, “When I was a child and I had a nightmare, my parents would let me climb into their beds, and they'd hold me until I fell asleep again.” Eyes now on you, he listened carefully, was even patient when a silence followed, consequence of your having to tie up your pride and lock it in a chamber inside your mind. “Can you... Can you hold me?"

The embarrassment of requesting something as silly kept you from meeting Taehyung’s gaze, but you could nonetheless feel it. He was probably trying to come up with the most humiliating comment, such as asking you to remind him of your age, and the wait for it was unbearable. You regretted speaking at all, so emotional at the moment that you knew anything he said would make you cry. Stupid, stupid.

A gentle tone surprised you. “Turn around.”

Slowly, you lifted your face to see no trace of mockery or even indifference on Taehyung’s. As you looked into his eyes, bright even in the dark, it was compassion what instead you discerned. Relief thus made you sigh away the anxiety choking you, and with a small nod, you turned around.

Taehyung’s arm embraced you from behind, warmer than you expected—likely because you thought of him as a cold person. Regardless, his touch was comforting around your torso, even his breathing against your back made you feel safe there, in a godforsaken inn near enemy territory.

“When will the nightmares pass?” you suddenly asked, realising if he’d told you that, it was because he’d suffered from them as well, and therefore knew how tormenting they could be. Without stopping to think about it, you held his hand close.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, so low you almost missed it. “I was just told someday they will.”

#bts au #btswritingcafe #kim taehyung #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung imagine #bts #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts x reader

[thepaintedlady00]

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."

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