#Gary Clap

[dasagoo]

listen. you can't go and make your username your twitch name. I'm going to stream snipe you and get in the background of your stream with 4 viewers like my life depends on it

[covenofagatha]

I love your Agatha stories!! I was wondering of you could write something where reader is the daughter of one of detective Agnes’ coworkers, who she doesn’t get along with, and they met in one of those cop friends reunion. She sees reader in the pool and can’t help but be infatuated by them, and when she discovers who reader’s father is, her needs to defile reader just increases😈

may have been a lil drunk finishing this so hopefully there's not too many mistakes lol

(Not so) Good girl, bad cop

Detective Agnes meets the attractive daughter of her annoying partner at the annual Westview PD Christmas party and decides that she has to have her

Word count: 3300

Warnings: bratty reader, top agatha, fingering, virgin reader, teasing, degradation, daddy kink, implied oral

The house of Agnes’s partner, Gary, is filled with food, music, and merriment for the annual Westview Police Department Christmas party. 

And yet, Agnes would rather be anywhere else. She makes a mental list of the places she wishes she could be instead, the bottom of a ditch making an appearance surprisingly high up. 

Her kiss-ass partner had practically begged Chief to let him throw it at his house, always trying to get ahead some way or another. 

Agnes can’t stand him. 

His smug little face when he took credit for one of her solves. The way he would mansplain things to her. The way he would take his fucking shoes off and put his feet up on desk. 

But she puts on a fake smile and hands him the obligatory bottle of wine when she walks into the home. 

“Ah, Agnes, there you are!” He booms and claps her on the shoulder. She grits her teeth before she removes his hand herself. She grunts as a way of greeting and steps right past him further into the foyer. 

Detectives and officers wave as she passes through the crowd of people to go find a corner to stand in and drink a beer. Everyone seems to be having a good time and she hates it. Hates to see Gary win like this. 

Her bored eyes flit through to find someone interesting enough to talk to, and that’s when she catches sight of someone outside. 

More specifically, a girl in the pool. You. 

Agnes’s forehead creases. All she can see is your shoulders and head and she turns her body fully to the sliding glass door to observe. 

You seem to just be floating around but there’s something about you that has her transfixed. 

Maybe it’s your wet hair matted around your face, or your nose and cheekbones, or the color of your eyes that she can see from inside. 

And that mouth, god. Agnes groans inwardly. What it must be like to kiss those pretty lips. 

Or for them to be elsewhere. 

“Hey, Agnes, Merry Christmas!” Agnes jolts out of her trance to find Chief standing next to her. 

“Same to you,” she says gruffly and then lifts her hand with the beer to point at you. “Who is that?” 

“Oh, that’s Gary’s daughter, Y/N. She’s home from freshman year of college. Met her a few times,” he says disinterestedly. 

But Agnes feels a thrill run through her. She didn’t know Gary had a daughter. Now, instead of just wanting an unknown person’s mouth on her, she wants Gary’s daughter’s mouth on her. The son of a bitch may have the favor of the entire Westview PD, but she is surely going to have you. 

And then you wade through the water to the side of the pool and push yourself out of it and Agnes almost moans at the way your muscles flex in your arms. 

And then she’s able to take all of you in. 

Your skimpy purple two-piece, the low cut of the top and how it shows significant cleavage, and the bottoms that rest just above the hip bones that Agnes wants to scrape her teeth against. 

She barely notices Chief walking away before making the executive decision to shove open the door and go talk to Gary’s daughter. 

You’re toweling off next to your pile of clothes on the patio table when you hear someone stepping out onto the back deck. You figure it’s just your dad, maybe coming to yell at you for being outside swimming instead of “mingling with the guests” like he wanted. 

But you hate these parties, having been to enough of them your whole life. Cops were boring and most of them had the biggest superiority complexes you’d ever seen. 

So you said fuck it and put on your swim suit. 

Footsteps get closer to you and you glance back, bracing for the lecture. 

But it’s not your dad. 

It’s Detective Agnes, his partner. 

You had seen her a few times at cop events you’d been forced into going to, but you had never spoken to her. You’re not sure she actually knows who you are.

However, you certainly know her. 

Her frizzy dark hair. Her piercing blue eyes. The way her lips pursed and her veiny hands would grip onto her belt. 

She is one of the hottest women you’ve ever seen. 

And she came wearing a suit tonight, hair tied back in a ponytail: black pants and a blazer over a neatly tucked in white button-down shirt that makes you want to drop to your knees. And a fucking tie, is she serious. 

The things you want her to do to you…god. Even though you’d only seen her from afar a few times, you still spent quite a few nights imagining her, hand between your legs. 

“Come to swim?” You ask when she finally gets close to you. She snorts and gives you a once-over. 

“Aren’t you cold?” 

You shrug even though the windy December air is brutally harsh against your bare wet skin. The urge to shiver is almost all-consuming, but with her standing this close to you, there’s a faint warmth in your stomach distracting you. 

You know that your body is reacting, however, and you twist your hair up into the towel so that Agnes can see your nipples poking through your top, harder than glass. Her eyes dart down, almost too fast to catch, but the way she gulps and clenches her teeth gives her away. 

“Maybe a little,” you answer. “Just need a way to warm up.” It sounds just as suggestive as you intend it and you can see her eyes darken. 

“Putting some clothes on would surely help,” she suggests and you pout mockingly but pull your long sleeve shirt over your head and wrap the towel around your waist. “Better?” 

You hum in agreement. “Did my dad send you out here? I don’t need a babysitter, you know.” 

She chuckles like something’s funny. “No, he didn’t, but are you sure you don’t? You would’ve caught hypothermia if it weren’t for me.”

“Wow,” you say, voice sickly sweet. “I had no idea my dad’s partner was a better daddy than he is. Look at you watching out for me.” You smirk, hearing her breath catch in her throat. 

But then Agnes scoffs. “And I had no idea my partner’s daughter was such a brat.” It’s impossible to miss the spark that goes straight to your cunt when she calls you that and you simper. 

“What are you gonna do about it, Detective?” You’re not sure where this boldness is coming from, but you like it and you think she likes it, too. 

Agnes growls and takes a step closer to you. You stand your ground, daring her with your eyes. 

“Your lips are blue, doll. The only thing I’m ‘gonna do about it’ is get your ass inside so your father doesn’t kill me when you freeze on my watch.” Her hand clasps your bicep and she practically hauls you back towards the door. 

“You’re really strong,” you remark, enjoying the way her grip tightens around you. “Do you work out?” You do mean for it to sound sexier, like a smooth pick-up line, but with the way your teeth have started chattering, it sounds like you’re slurring and you barely get the words out. She slides open the door and pushes you inside, the balmy air instantly making you feel better. 

“Go take a shower,” she tells you. 

You bite your bottom lip and bat your eyelashes. “Why don’t you come join me? That would really warm me up.” You toy with the edge of her tie, pulling on it ever so slightly and looking up at her through your eyelashes.

“You’re shameless, aren’t you?” She hisses, the vein in her forehead throbbing. “Throwing yourself at anyone who gives you a little attention, begging to be put in your place. Are you like this with all the girls at college, too? Getting fucked by a new one every night?”

You lean in closer so only she can hear you. “I’m a virgin,” you whisper in her ear, blush spreading to your cheeks, and she sharply inhales, almost giving into you right there. She’s going to take Gary’s daughter’s virginity. You can see her neck taunt with restraint and she steps back to put some space between you, almost all the blue in her eyes being swallowed up by her pupils. 

“Go upstairs and take a shower now,” she orders, her voice hard. 

“And then what?” 

She rolls her eyes. “If you can behave, maybe you’ll get a reward.” Heat flares through you and you take the stairs two at a time and shower faster than you ever have before. 

When you come back down, clad in a short red dress, you immediately find Agnes standing alone and out of sight in the hallway to the guest room. You join her, momentarily getting distracted by her loosened tie and blazer rolled up to her forearms. 

“I did it,” you say, voice coming out hushed. She rakes her eyes over you, smirking appreciatively. 

“So you did,” she agrees. “I’m glad you can follow simple directions.”

You wait a second with a raised eyebrow. She says nothing. “Do I get a reward now?”

She barks out a laugh. “So eager, aren’t you, pet?” The new name sends a bolt of lightning straight through you and you nod. “Let’s see if you can behave just a bit longer before I ruin you for everyone else.” 

You stick out your bottom lip like a petulant child and she pats your face roughly. 

“Come on,” you try again, whining. “Why can’t we just sneak away right now? No one would notice if you just came up to my bedroom with me.”

Your fingers play with her tie again, giving her a wicked grin as you tug her in closer by it, but she quickly snatches your wrists off her and pins them against the wall over your head, body pressing against yours. 

A moan escapes your mouth and your heart skips a beat. 

“Is this what you want?” She snarls, husky and deep and heat-filled, and it’s hard to think straight. Her leg presses between your legs and your head lolls back against the wall, tilting so she can lean in closer. “You want someone to punish you for being a bad girl? Want someone to take you rough and fast to teach you a lesson? What would your father think if he saw you this desperate for me? His perfect little darling daughter, grinding on my leg like a slut?” 

You whimper and try to force words out of your mouth, but you have no luck. She huffs and steps back, letting go of you and you instantly miss her heat against you. 

“See, you don’t even know what you want,” she scoffs. “Are you going to be good?”

You smirk. “Why should I, if it gets you this hot and bothered?” She fixes her stare on you, but you hold it, glare unwavering. 

“You know what?” She snaps and excitement rises inside you. “Fuck it.” You open your mouth to ask what she means, but she grabs your hand and pulls you back into the guest bedroom. 

You wonder if she had scoped it out while you were in the shower. Just canvassing the place, trying to find the best place for this. 

Agnes shoves your front against the door, holding your arms behind your back with her body like you’re being arrested, and yanks your head back by your hair. 

“What do I have to do to get you to behave, hm?” She asks. “Bend you over and spank you? Get you so wound up that you’re begging to cum and then leave you high and dry? Or make you cum so many times that your pretty face is covered in tears?”

You can’t help but whimper at her words. “Please, Detective,” you beg, feeling an ache that you’ve never felt before. “Anything.” 

Her hand comes down to rub your ass soothingly and you arch back into her touch. “Are you sure you want this to be your first time?” She asks quietly and carefully. Your knees tremble at the sudden softness and you nod so hard your head hurts. 

“Yes,” you rasp. “I need you so badly.”

She groans into your ear, seemingly very affected by your words. “In case you ever want to stop, say ‘purple’ or tap anywhere on me twice. Got it?” 

“Got it,” you breathe and her tongue licks a hot stripe up your throat. “Please, Detective, please touch me.” 

She flips you around and traces her hands up the sides of your stomach, her warmth seeping through your dress. She studies you. “You know, sweetheart, I know you can do better than that with how you’ve been acting all night.”

“Please, please, want you to fuck me, want you to be my first,” you whine, letting the words pour out of your mouth. “Detective, I need to feel you, please, daddy.” The last word kind of just slips out, but based on her strangled gasp, it seems to turn her on. 

She grabs your chin in her hand and holds eye contact with you. “Say it again,” she orders in a deep voice. Hearing her like this, seeing her like this, is doing wonders to you. 

But there’s still a bit of brat inside you. 

“Make me,” you challenge. Agnes raises an eyebrow and her other hand slips under your dress and cups you over your underwear. 

You sharply inhale at the feeling of someone else touching you there. While you are no stranger to your own body, having Agnes’s fingers against your most sensitive area is a whole new sensation. 

“God, you’ve really been getting off on being a brat, haven’t you?” She taunts, feeling your wetness against her fingers.

“Maybe…” you trail off softly and she pushes your underwear aside. Your knees almost buckle at the feeling of her against you, stroking through her folds. One finger teases your entrance and you try to maneuver yourself to get her to dip inside. 

“Ah ah,” she tuts, refusing to give you what you want. “Say it again.” 

This time, you give in straight away, needing her more than your pride. “Please, daddy, just fuck me.” 

She slides a finger into you and you moan, head dropping back against the wall. You can’t believe you're losing your virginity to your dad’s partner against the door to your guest room. You didn’t picture it like this, but you had wished she would be your first, so either way the end result was the same. 

“Fuck, doll, you’re so wet and hot around me,” Agnes says, beginning to slowly move her finger in and out, twisting to hit a spot that has you panting. “If only your father could see me now, fingers deep in his only child. Corrupting his perfect daughter.” 

For some reason, that only turns you on more and you roll your hips against her, drawing her finger in. 

“Please, daddy, need more,” you plead and she chuckles meanly before slipping a second finger into you. The stretch makes you groan but it feels so good. You meet every thrust and you can feel yourself getting closer already. She’s twisting her fingers, not exactly kindly, and you’re a mess, noises falling out of your mouth, doing anything to get her deeper. 

Her thumb swipes at your clit and you let out a loud moan, her other hand coming to clamp over your lips. 

“Gotta be quiet, baby girl,” she says. “Don’t want the whole party to know what a slut you’re being for me, do you?” 

You shake your head but wrap one of your legs around her waist so she can more easily hit the spot inside you that you have trouble reaching yourself. 

She laughs at how needy you are and fucks you even harder, fingers moving at a bruising pace that steals all the breath from your lungs. 

“Daddy, oh my god, please,” you moan, feeling yourself getting so close. Everything is so much more heightened than it feels like when you’re touching yourself, and you can’t believe Agnes is actually fucking you.

“Want to cum all over daddy’s fingers, huh?” Her question makes you even wetter, clenching around her, whimpering. Her eyes are burning into you and you’ve never felt more alive. 

“Please, yes, wanna cum, daddy, just for you.” You’ve never felt so needy, so desperate, in your life. Your entire body is taunt like a lifewire, electricity crackling and making you feel better than you ever have. 

She laughs. “What a naughty brat, making me fuck you at your dad’s Christmas party like this. Just couldn’t help yourself, could you? Had to act out just to get what you want?” 

All you can do is whine as she forces another finger into you, not even burning a little from how wet you are, and your head falls back against the door. Her thumb starts to rub a rhythm against your clit and your walls flutter around her three fingers. You start babbling, saying her name, telling her how good she’s fucking you. 

Agnes’s lips part, a light sheen of sweat breaking out on her forehead, and all you can do is gasp as she continues to fuck you so well. You don’t think anyone else will ever compare to her. 

“Cum for me, baby girl, cum for daddy,” she says, and hearing herself call herself that sends you right over the edge. 

You soak her fingers with a loud moan, riding them until the stimulation becomes too much to bear. She pulls out of you and you still mewl weakly at the emptiness. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” She asks and you drop your forehead onto her shoulder and sigh. 

And then you laugh a little at the situation and she huffs too. “I’m great, thank you, Agnes.” It’s the first time you’ve called her by her real name all night and she lets out a little sound that tells you exactly how much she likes it. 

She strokes a hand through your hair and brings you in for a kiss. You didn't realize how bad you wanted her lips against yours until it finally happens. But her tongue strokes into your mouth and you find out just how good she tastes. 

And just how much you want to taste a different part of her. 

Agnes also seems to have a similar idea. Her fingers tighten in your hair and guide you down to your knees. She unbuttons her pants and your throat goes dry as she slides them down her perfect, pale legs. You can see a bit of muscle in her thighs and it makes you want to lean over and bite them, just to leave marks. 

“You’ve been a brat all night, you know,” she says, peeling over her underwear and revealing her glistening pussy to you. Your jaw drops open, absolutely enthralled, needing to have her on your tongue. You nod at her words, not even denying what you did to get yourself into this position. “Running your mouth, saying the most desperate things, acting like such a brat. Well, I think we better put those pretty little lips to some better use, don’t you?” 

You couldn’t agree more, and you tell her that. 

She leads your eager mouth to her cunt and shuts you up in the best way possible.  

[lostintransist]

Seamstress | Part 9

This story is almost over and I have never had a better time wrapping up a story. These two make me so ridiculously happy.

Part one is found here. AO3

CW: Mentions of off page sex and fluids

For as long as John had been living in your flat this had to be the first properly labeled ‘date’ between the two of you.

John is driving and has arranged the whole evening. You tease him about the suit not fitting quite right, and that you might need to fatten him up before he goes back on jobs. He laughed and kissed the back of your hand, fingers threading between yours as he pulled into traffic.

“How were the guys about you being back on base today?”

John rolled his eyes even as he answered, “You would think I had just gotten blown up yesterday by the way they tip-toed past my office. I could time them by the end of the day. Simon came by every hour and would refill my coffee every three. Johnny and Kyle alternated every thirty minutes but never on the hours as that is when Simon would check on me. Gary camped out in my office and kept me fed.”

“They love you, John,” you can’t help but smile as they had all kept you informed about how he was doing all day.

“They sure do love to annoy me,” John muttered under his breath.

Before you could retort John pulled the car to the valet. Stepping from the driver’s seat he leaves the keys in the ignition. He claps a hand on the shoulder of the young man in red. He has a quick conversation that doesn’t translate past the door of the car and then John is at your door, opening it and helping you out. As if taken from a black and white film he tucks your hand into the crook of his arm. Greeted by a stiff-looking maître d’ that matched the reflective marble flooring you hold tighter to John. This building must ache under the weight of its years. The faint clinking of silverware on plates and the mummer of voices echo around the space.

“Name?” Stiff bespectacled man asks.

“Price,” John replies succinctly.

Behind the podium, the man scans his tablet looking for John’s information.

The confidence with which he knows that his name will appear on the list tickles you. You love it when he is bashful with you, but you adore confident John. Confident John is the one who charmed you, though delusional John is the one who offered you 150,000 dollar bucks to see you naked. That still makes you laugh when you think about it.

When he peers down at you with a brow lifted you assume he must have heard the quiet chuckle bounce off the walls or the floor.

“Sir, if you will follow me this way?”

You both look to the maître d’ already three steps ahead. John winks as you as you start after the man on. The bump to your hip nearly causes you to trip and hold tighter to John’s arm. Shooting him a glare he only gazes at you as if you are the most precious thing in the world. When the maître d’ begins to weave through tables John lifts your hand from his arm and leads you from behind. The tables are close together. Intimate lighting and long-reaching table-cloths topped with taper candles and intricate candle sticks.

The maître d’ leads you beyond them all, past a wall decorative of cutouts to a large circular room with five other couples seated far enough apart to not overhear one another’s conversations. Once you settle into the table and the waiter has appeared, disappeared, and reappeared with the wine John lets his attention fall to you.

“Why the laughter as we were waiting to be seated?”

The blush must be stealing across your cheeks the way his smile warms.

“I was thinking about all the sides of you I have seen,” you lift your thick linen napkin from your plate and place it on your lap with a flick.

You might be avoiding his eyes but he won’t call you on it.

“Do go on my love, what about me?”

Glancing up you find John resting his chin on a fist as his elbow sits on the table. You look away as fast as you can, cheeks heating to an uncomfortable level.

Tonguing your teeth you aim for honesty as you direct your answers at your plate.

“Well, I was thinking about how I love when you get bashful. Then I thought about how confidence looks sexy on you…”

“And?” he prompts. His eyes are still on you. The trail of gooseflesh across your chest and peeps of cleavage confirm it.

“And then I thought about how a delusional side of you,” you flick your gaze to his now to drive the point home, “Offered me 150,000 dollar bucks to see me naked.”

It’s John’s turn to blush. He straightens, both hands disappearing below the tablecloth as he adjusts his pants.

“Don’t regret the offer. I would offer more if I thought you might accept it,” he grumbles.

Before you can respond the waiter reappears.

“The chef welcomes you tonight to this one-of-a-kind experience.”

He goes on, explaining each step of the five-course meal. John must have pulled out a black card for this date. You sent him sly looks as the waiter went on. He would have paid you the money offered to see you naked.

Dinner goes on and on, nearly a three-hour event. When you can tell it is starting to wrap up, the chef is making rounds to the tables greeting each couple in turn, John catches your eye.

“Can I offer you 150 to get out of here?” He waggles his brows slightly.

The confusion on your face must show as John is concerned until your mind clicks the pieces together. 150. He is asking to take you home and see you naked. The sultriest of smiles morphs his lips as he watches you comprehend the offer.

“Let’s finish meeting the chef and I’ll take your offer. I’ll only charge you 100.”

His boisterous laugh makes an appearance, bouncing around the space until every set of eyes has touched your table. Hiding your own giggles behind your napkin, you focus on being presentable again. You and John barely make it through meeting the chef before leaving the restaurant, your body tucked as close as can be managed with his hand resting at your waist.

Contact is maintained the entire drive home. Sometimes it’s John’s hand resting on your thigh or your lips pressed to his knuckles. He lets you lead as you enter your flat. After locking the door you tug him into the bedroom, soft lighting from your fairy lights and a spare candle you light.

Like everything before it sex with John is sweet, full of laughter, and fulfilling in a way that nothing else could broach. The night moves slowly as John is often frustrated with his lack of stamina as he is still recovering. You enjoy the prolonged amount of time to explore his body and commit it to memory. Not that you would ever let him leave after offering so much money for the privilege of your skin.

When morning crests it finds you both covered in various fluids and achy and in need of pain meds, coffee, and a shower though not specifically in that order. Life with John is more perfect than you could have asked for from a genie. Even him leaving on jobs again does not diminish the love that waters the well of your soul.

Part 8 | Part 10

Seamstress Masterlist | Masterlist

@madsothree

[onerockandroiitoomany]

my thoughts after seeing stex wembley :D

I saw the 25/1/25 Matinee!

We had a few swings/understudies on- Scott Hayward as Rusty, Lara Vina Uzcatia as Greaseball, Asher Forth as Electra, Jamie Cruttenden as Lumber, Jessie Angell as Slick, Red as Green Arrow, Charles Butcher as Orange Flash, Sam Gallacher as Killerwatt, Bethany Rose Lythgoe as Wrench and Gary Sheridan as Volta. They all did incredible!

I adore the little remixes they have of cut songs from the show that play in the lobby! I didn't notice them at first but I swear my ears pricked up when I realised I could hear the melody of There's Me! I think the full list of remixes were There's Me, Next Time You Fall in Love, A Lotta Locomotion and Right Place, Right Time (Please tell me if I've missed any!)

This is the first show I've ever been to where there's been a safety briefing beforehand! The staff are all incredibly professional although they aren't miced up, so if you are hard of hearing you may want to grab one beforehand to ask them to run you through everything.

We had a show stop! I was actually pretty hyped about this because I'd heard about them happening a few times and as someone with the tiniest experience running theatre tech I wanted to see how it worked! Everything was fine and it was sorted quickly. The stop happened right at the end of Crazy since the house lights kept flicking on and off.

The show sounds so much better in person! I've listened to the cast recording and seen a few bootlegs and the criticism that it's hard to understand is definitely because people are watching recordings of the show. I have auditory processing issues and was realising what some of the lyrics were mid-song when I was in the theatre!

I was sat trackside in the locomotive seats and I'm so glad I didn't buy a cheaper ticket because I could see the entire track, and so much happened directly in front of me! The crash during race 2 happened right where I was sitting, and Dinah and Porter were cheering for the final race in the aisle. At one point, Lumber skated right into the barrier and when I jumped, he turned around and said "Didn't see you there!" which I thought was so cute!

If you want cast interactions and you're near the track, cheer during the races! clap along to songs! of course, being trackside helps, but simply show how much you're loving the show and it pays off. The cast are absolutely incredible with interacting with the audience mid-show as well as during the megamix, and I was so happy with how many little moments that I got to see so close up! If you're recording the megamix, look up at the performers and not at your phone, too!

The only downside of this is that sometimes your view will be blocked- I missed a bit of one of the songs because Tassita was positioned directly in front of me and I couldn't see past! However, the cast are almost constantly moving, so you'll be alright.

I truly can't recommend the locomotive trackside seats enough- there's never any turning around and craning your neck during the races to see what's going on!

During the races, there are live camera feeds which show up on the screens around the theatre. I didn't notice it for a while, but it's the marshalls with the cameras, and it really makes you feel like you're watching a race!

Speaking of the marshalls, they're absolutely incredible! Some of the tricks they pull off are insane to see, and sometimes I felt like I was cheering for them more than the skate stunts!

There have been a few little tweaks made since the recording of the bootleg that was floated around. They're mostly just a few words changed in lines, but there's still new things to see!

Seeing all the tech live is breathtaking. It's one thing to see a video, but so many moments completely took my breath away, especially I Am the Starlight.

I've got so much more appreciation for Pearl and the Freights as characters now. Not that I didn't like them before, but I definitely love them more after the show!

By the end of Act 1, I had already decided I needed to see the show again! I felt like everything could have taken twice as long and I still would have loved it.

In short- if you can see this show please do! It is entertaining, thrilling, and absolutely worth your money no matter where you're sitting!

[salvador-daley]

Chained ⛓️ Updated!

An Umbrella Academy Murder Mystery

A/N: I don't know if anyone is still interested in this story but contrary to all indications (regular updates) I am still writing it anyway because, well, delusion. I've not given up on it, I just had a baby and babies are - and this is true - very distracting. If you're happy to see my username on your timeline, clap your hands (leave me a comment) and I'll try my best to update again before the child starts school in 2030.

Chapter 30: Sake

Chapter summary: With time running out to prove his innocence, Klaus seeks to confront his prime suspect. But he’s not ready for what happens next.

Chapter snippet:

AS HE finds the entrance to the passage, Klaus’s feet stop dead.

“Are we sure this is a good idea?”

“What do you mean?” asks Ben.

“I mean we’re walking down a rapey back alley to go meet a potential murderer, Ben. Call me a Nervous Nancy, but it feels like a bad plan.”

Ben looks down the alley and then back at Klaus, as if none of these details had really occurred to him before now. The narrow passage is lit only by a single pale bulb above the kitchen door, about halfway down. The wet cobbles are scattered with upturned crates and mouldy cardboard boxes, left out in the elements to rot. Dumpsters line the walls, sheltering a family of stray cats that slides between them like sultry nightclub patrons.

Ben turns back to Klaus. “You’ll be fine, come on.”

Klaus remains frozen to one spot.

“Look, how do we even know this is the guy, huh? I mean, what do we have to go on? A weird sculpture and a hunch?”

“It’s gotta be him, Klaus,” says Ben. “Think about it: Gary was an asshole. He was sleeping with Jaz’s fiancée, he was probably planning to blackmail her, and Detective Wesson said-”

“Ugh, can we not talk about her, please? She makes my sphincter twitch.”

“Detective Wesson said Jaz owed Gary money. Plus there’s the whole Janice connection. The two of them probably planned it all along.”

Klaus frowns. Is that possible? Could Janice really have set this up somehow? Could Jaz have harboured such a grudge against his friend that he would sneak into his room, stand over his sleeping body and cut his throat in the night? Jaz who had poured shots at the party and shared bitchy gossip over breakfast the next morning? Jaz with his limited edition Jordans and his manicured nails and his tiny twisted dreadlocks?

“Something just isn’t adding up and I can’t put my finger on it,” says Klaus.

“Well, this is the only way you’re gonna get answers. Just stop being a colossal wuss and get down there.”

Klaus’s feet are still rooted firmly to the ground.

“I-I don’t think so. Let’s just go back to the party before-”

“No!” Ben throws his whole ethereal form in front of Klaus. “It’s time to grow some balls.”

“I have balls, Ben,” says Klaus, his voice rising. “And there’s a bad feeling in them!”

“Well, I told you to see a doctor about that.” Ben shifts into the light of the moon so he can meet Klaus’ eyes. “Look, I know you’re scared, but if you don’t do this now you’ll never find out the truth. Diego will lose his job, you’ll have to go on the run. This is the only way, Sometimes you just have to bite the bullet and take a risk.”

“That’s easy for you to say, you’re already dead!”

“Just do it,” Ben hisses.

Read the rest on AO3

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[nolita-fairytale]

don’t want to walk alone | carmen ‘carmy' berzatto | chapter three: september

summary: the moment we've all be waiting for: you and carmy get married.

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

wc: 7.1k

listen to: the official don't want to walk alone playlist. there is SO much music in this chapter, so per the playlist, it starts with 'it takes two' and ends with 'love story.'

a/n: ok so this chapter was a behemoth to write and i am in fact in love with it. it's taken me days, really weeks, to get what i wanted out of it and i still feel like i could've gone deeper. however, i'm also kind of just happy to have this out in the world and give these two the wedding they wanted me to give them. each moment was curated and thought out, down to the music selection so this chapter is really just a product of me stewing on this idea for quite a bit of time. this is a part of my make my heart surrender universe so check out the masterlist if you haven't read the series! next up? their long weekend at the langham where we really get carmy x reader and moments for just them. please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

part two | masterlist | part four

“It takes two to make a thing go riiiiight.”

You never pictured the night before your wedding like this, you think to yourself, as you listen to Fak sing, to the best of his ability in a somewhat-decent falsetto, along to the 90s hip hop classic. 

Hell, you’re not sure you really ever pictured your wedding, but as you sit, surrounded by the people you love, you can’t see it going any other way than this. You watch as Richie rallies up as many people as he can for shots of Mallort, recounting that infamous morning at Ceres – a story he’s told over and over again, yet still manages to tell as animated and boisterously as the first time you heard it. 

You groan as you watch Richie successfully convince Gary to take a shot with him, Gary’s face twisting into a look of disgust in response to the foul taste of the Chicago liquor, as Sugar reminds him that he should know better by now. 

Carmy gives your knee a squeeze while simultaneously brushing off Richie’s attempt at shoving a shot in his direction. You laugh, a warm feeling filling you to the brim (could be the beer, could be being surrounded by your people), while Sydney jumps right into her best Rob Base impression. 

It just so happens that your continuously put-off ‘let’s shoot for next month’ karaoke plans with a few staff members from The Bear coincided with plans to go out with friends before the wedding, which is how you’ve found yourself here. 

After a lovely dinner at The Bear, your parents went back to the hotel for the night, insisting that you two go and have your fun. And as much as you would’ve loved to have brought your mother-who-has-a-doctorate-in-music-theory to karaoke night, she much preferred a good night’s sleep. 

The crowded bar claps enthusiastically as Fak and Sydney wrap up their song, finishing their truly-made-up-only-for-comedy dance moves. You giggle, exchanging another glance with Carmy, as your friends take their bows, before shuffling off of the stage. 

You hear the loud boom of the emcee’s voice through the microphone as he says:

“And up next we got… Tina!”

“Let’s go, T!” you shout through hands crowded around your mouth, in an effort to increase your volume of sound. 

Carmy cheers, clapping his hands together as Richie enthusiastically chants Tina’s name while Tina makes her way to the stage. 

“This is gonna be good,” Sugar nudges you, from where you are, seated in between the Berzatto siblings. 

You nod your head in agreement before settling in a little closer to Carmy. 

“The queen, herself,” Sydney remarks, gesturing towards the stage as she and Fak both return to your table. Sydney pulls up a chair next to where you and Carmy sit while Fak joins Richie on the other side of it. “And the ONLY act that could follow our exceptional performance.” 

“Well, exactly,” you agree, playfully. 

You exchange a laugh with Syd, while Carmy playfully rolls his eyes at the two of you. 

The crowded bar room goes quiet as soon as Tina reaches the stage, smiling nervously as she grabs the mic. 

“This one goes out to our favorite Jeffrey. And his lady Jeff,” she begins, earning a round of cheers and hollers from the group you’re with. Tina blows a kiss you and Carmy’s way, before nodding at the emcee to begin. 

“I love you guys.”

You hear the beginning notes of the iconic Etta James tune, gasping in anticipation of her song:

“at last my love has come along my lonely days are over and life is like a song.”

You sigh in admiration, a hand over your heart as Tina continues to sing. Her voice is powerful, soulful – perfect for the song, really – as she continues into the second verse. 

“at last the skies above are blue my heart was wrapped up in clover the night I looked at you.”

This time, it’s Carmy who steals a glance your way, his mind taken back to that fateful night at a bar in Hell’s Kitchen, when he spilled his drink on you so many years ago. You’re entranced, enchanted, with Tina’s performance, and he thinks to himself, that maybe this is the best it’s ever going to get: being here with you, getting to love you, on the cusp of promising you ‘forever’ tomorrow. 

Never had he expected that you’d make it this far. You’d always been so much cooler than him – well-liked, talented, funny – in and out of the kitchen, that he had no idea how the hell he was supposed to talk to you without vomiting all over your shoes out of nerves. 

He can remember that night so vividly: standing there in the restroom of the bar he can barely remember the name of, while you stood across from him with the kind of glare on your face he swore could kill him. But you didn’t, and after many attempts to push you away, you asked him to be your friend, deeming it the day that started it all – a friendship that would teeter the line of friendship and something more, one that would bloom into the greatest love he’s ever known. As much as he hates to give Nate fucking Walker any kind of credit, he’ll the be first in line to say he’s glad the jagoff pushed him into you, setting it all in motion. 

You can see that Carmy’s become distracted, lost in thought as the song finishes, something behind your favorite pair of blue eyes as the entire bar ignites into a huge round of celebratory claps for Tina’s performance. 

You look up over at him, setting your beer bottle down on the table before leaning over to whisper in his ear.

“I can hear you thinkin’ over there, Berzatto,” you tease him quietly, pulling him from his trip down memory lane. “It’s only the night before the biggest day of your life. Relax.”

Carmy rolls his eyes playfully in response, but before he can properly respond to your jab, the emcee has begun introducing the next karaoke singers to the stage. 

“Alright. Looks like I’ve got uh… three singers here this time,” the emcee says, his voice cutting sharply through the crowd of remaining cheers. “Let’s welcome Sydney back to the stage with… Sugar and… the bride to be!” 

“What!?” you exclaim, your eyes wide with surprise as Sydney jumps to her feet.  

“But I didn’t-,” you begin to protest, as Sugar pulls you to your feet, tugging on your arm. 

“Oh there’s no way in hell we’re letting you sit this one out,” Sugar orders you, as Sydney rushes to your side, ushering you towards the stage. 

“Yeah this was your idea!” Sydney simultaneously reminds you. 

“Babe! Help!” you call out to Carmy, only to be met with a shrug and a look that says ‘don’t think I could if I tried.’ 

“Oh, he’s in on this,” Sydney adds, which does explain why he didn’t even attempt to help you when your friends began dragging you out of your chair. “So don’t even think about asking him for help.”

“Wh-? But I don’t even know what we’re singing!” you continue to protest, looking from Sugar to Sydney as they push you onto the stage with them. 

“Trust,” Sydney reassures you, her face serious, while Nat slides a sash over you (one you’ve refused to wear all night) that has the word, ‘BRIDE’ printed over it in huge gold lettering. You groan, sending a glare in Nat’s direction, even though you know it’s all in good fun. 

You hear Richie shout, while Fak and Marcus clap loudly, and Carmy laughs, shouting words of encouragement your way. 

You know there’s no use in putting up a fight, especially since this was your idea anyways, as you begrudgingly take one of the three wireless mics. Before you can ask once more, what the hell Syd and Nat signed the three of you up to sing, a distinct slide of piano keys comes in, lighting up the karaoke screen in front of you. 

You grin immediately, in recognition, and to your two best friend’s delight, as they smile too, raising the mics to your lips to sing:

“friday night and the lights are low looking out for a place to go where they play the right music getting in the swing you come to look for a king.”

You laugh as your friends point towards Carmy on the last line. The three of you continue to sing the next part with reckless abandon, and all is forgiven. 

You could care less about how the three of them conspired against you to get you up here. All that matters now is that you’re here, singing one of your favorite songs with your best friends, grooving and dancing to the ABBA classic, as you prepare to marry your best friend. 

“you can dance you can jive having the time of your life ooh, see that girl watch that scene digging the dancing queen.”

"what good is love without any strings?" dayglow, 'close to me'

“Baby.”

Carmy groans in response, as soon as he hears the low hum of your voice. 

“Good morning,” you say, a soft smile on your face as you watch him begin to blink his eyes open. 

Carmy turns his head towards you, and he can’t believe he gets to wake up to this – to you – every single day. 

“Hey,” he says back, a soft smile spreading across his lips. “Good Morning, sweetheart.” 

“Guess what?” you ask him with the kind of glee and anticipation as a kid on Christmas morning. 

“Hmm?” he hums, as you smooth a hand over his chest, your body pressed against his side as you look at your soon-to-be husband. 

“We’re getting married today,” you grin, a giddiness that bubbles inside of you. 

“‘S that so?” he mumbles, playfully. 

“Uh huh,” you nod with a chuckle, this time playing along. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

Instead of replying with words, Carmy swiftly wraps an arm around you, before flipping you so that you’re the one on your back this time. You let out of a shriek and a laugh as he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before adding:

“How could I ever?”

You shrug casually, “Weeeelll…. you just have so much going on up there.” You reach up to where Carmy hovers above you, brushing a golden curl out of his eyes as you continue your little dance. 

“You know, between the restaurant and all that time spent being a genius,” you joke, bantering with Carmy. “Don’t know how you have the time to remember silly little things like wedding dates and what not.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Carmy laughs, shaking his head incredulously, before pressing another kiss, this one much deeper to your lips again. 

And this time, as he pulls away, he gives you one of those languid looks that pierces right through your soul replying much more seriously this time with:

“I could never forget you.”

The way he says it with such conviction takes your breath away, and you know that Carmy means it. The double meaning isn’t lost on him either. 

It’s one of the reasons he called you all those years ago to come teach Marcus; it’s why you ended up in Chicago:

Because as much as he tried, as damn good at compartmentalizing as he’d always been, he really could never forget you. Carmy shakes his head once more, a playful smile on his face as he leans down to kiss you again, wondering when the hell he got this fuckin’ sentimental. As he places his mouth over yours, you’re more than happy to switch gears into doing this dance for a little longer. 

 Carmy traces light shapes against your skin, his mouth pouring love into yours with every kiss, with every drag of his tongue. You gasp as he grinds his hips into yours, making it clear where he’d like this all to go. You pull away, only for a moment, giggling cheekily. 

“Babe, I-,” you begin to protest, as Carmy chuckles, continuing to kiss you with zero intention of stopping “We… we’re going to be late.” This time, you feel his hands snake underneath the t-shirt you’ve been sleeping in, sending chills down your spine. 

“And-, Carm-, I-, I have to do my hair for-, … and what about-, my parents, they’ll-,” you stammer through, your thoughts becoming all kinds of disorganized with the way Carmy’s lips move against your neck this time. 

“I’ll be quick,” he answers with an aplomb you didn’t know he had in him. 

“I don’t know if that’s the flex you think it is,” you tease him as his hands begin to cup your breasts, your body responding with an involuntary arch of your back. 

“How fast I can make you come? I think it might be?” he murmurs against your lips, cockily.  

“Carmy,” you moan, as he begins to pull your t-shirt up higher, making it incredibly difficult to think of your to-do list for much longer. 

“Oh fuck it,” you sigh, deciding that, perhaps there’s no harm in getting the honeymoon started a little early anyways. 

“That’s my girl,” Carmy whispers against you, grinning like a Cheshire cat as you surrender to him. 

And he’s right about this too. 

How fast he can make you cum deserves all kinds of bragging rights, awards – a Nobel Peace prize, even – and you’re not sure why you thought getting a head start on doing your hair would’ve been the better idea in the first place. You spend the morning in the arms of the man you plan to spend forever with as he writes love letters, promises to give you the world, declarations of adoration with the pleasure he brings you. And besides, you’re not running all that behind on time anyways – something you realize, as the two of you get out of the shower (a round two, really). 

It takes a little longer than expected – mostly due to the fact that you and Carmy can’t seem to keep your hands off of each other – but against all odds, the two of you pull up to the courthouse right on time. 

It’s a sight for sore eyes: you, running hand in hand with your husband-to-be in a white, halter-cut wedding dress while Carmy follows along, in a classic black suit �� no tie around the neck – as the two of you hurry into the courthouse. 

Sure, you could’ve tried to get here early – saved a little time and stress – but where’s the fun in that?

The two of you approach your families, hand in hand, to the sounds of your heels clicking against the marble floors of City Hall. The actual ceremony at City Hall, you’d both decided, would be family only. 

Since you weren’t making a huge deal of it, you viewed this part as necessary paperwork, while the party itself could function as the ceremony and reception. But as soon as you see the look on your parents’ faces, you know this is more than just a few signed papers. You watch as their faces change, from impatient, waiting, eager, to in awe and emotional as you walk towards them. 

You hear Ava shout your name, immediately dropping her dad’s hand as she runs towards you. 

“Ava!!” you exclaim, bending down in your heels and white dress to scoop her up into a hug. You spin her around, just for a moment, before setting her back down on the floor. 

“You look like a princess,” she says, completely in awe, her eyes wide as she looks up at you. 

“You look like a princess, sweetie,” you reply, before giving her another hug. “And you know I can’t wait to hear your song, right?” 

“I picked the best one,” she grins, proudly. 

“I’m sure you did,” you reply confidently, with a playful wink. 

“Oh-ho! Pay up, Rick,” Sugar mutters smugly, to Richie, as Carmy busies himself with greeting both of your parents.

Richie groans, muttering something profane as he not-so-discreetly hands Nat a $20 bill, earning a quizzical look from both of your parents that travels from Carmy and then to you. 

“Sorry,” Richie apologizes, this time directing this one towards your parents as he holds up both hands, respectfully bowing his head. 

You send a playful glare Richie’s way, earning a sardonic laugh from Natalie, as you push right past him and over to your parents. 

“Oh sweetie,” your mom gasps, pulling you in for a tight squeeze. 

“Hi, Mom,” you grin, as you hug her. “Dad!”

“My God, honey, you look beautiful,” your dad says, as it’s his turn next. You hug your dad, exchanging a few words about the morning, asking how they slept, how the hotel is, as your mom and Carmy hug it out. 

This time, he turns his attention towards Carmy, so you release him, letting the two of them have their moment. 

Taking your chance, while your parents are otherwise distracted, you make your way over to where Sugar and Richie stand. 

“What? You guys were betting on whether or not we’d be late?” you ask Sugar, an eyebrow quirked in Richie’s direction. 

“Listen,” Sugar sighs, cupping your face in her hands, endearingly. “You and Carm are nothing if not consistent.” You exchange a laugh with your almost-sister-in-law because you know she’s right. “And for the record, I bet that you’d be-.”

“Just in time!” the judge says, as he approaches the six of you, slipping his judge robe over his shoulders, black leather fold pressed against his chest. “You guys ready to get started?”

Carmy looks over at you, as if he’s waiting for you to take the lead here, and you nod, before the both of you turn back to the judge. 

“Yes.” 

“Great,” he smiles, clapping his hands together once. “Then let’s get you two married!”

"sooner or later, you'll find yourself right where you were, on the corner went looking for her, she had somethin' to tell you, she can't quite remember, but wait for a second, it always comes back to her, you always come back to her." -- the japanese house, 'morning pages'

And after dotting all appropriate i’s and crossing all necessary t’s, with one signed marriage license later, you, Carmy, your parents, Richie and Ava, Sugar, and Judge Thompson find yourself on the green roof of City Hall. 

Carmy stands across you, his hands in yours, offering you a lifetime with one look from the most expressive blue orbs you’ve ever found yourself in. 

“If you’d like to say something, if you prepared any vows… now would be the time,” Judge Thompson says, offering you and Carmy both the space to do so. 

“Oh I think we-,” you begin, ready to decline the opportunity since you figured you’d save it for the reception. 

“Actually uh, yeah. Can we?” Carmen interjects, sending you a look of reassurance. 

“Of course,” Judge Thompson nods, giving you and Carmy the floor. 

“Carm, I didn’t prepare anything for-,” you begin, but he’s quick to put your mind and heart at ease and he interjects with:

“It’s okay. I did.”

“Oh.”

You hadn’t expected this, since you both agreed you’d save any kind of speeches that may or may not happen today during the reception. But as Carmy’s palms grow clammier, a nervous look in his eyes as he searches for the words he’s practiced over the last few days, it becomes clear that he’s been planning this. 

“As you know… I’m not always great with words,” he begins, almost apologetically, letting out a small laugh as he looks to Richie for reassurance. In turn, Richie gives Carmy a sympathetic nod, and you’re practically melting over the fact that he probably asked Richie for help with this. 

Let it rip.

 “I just uh-,” Carmy stammers, because he really, really wants to get this right. “Well, I’ll keep it brief.” He takes a breath, letting all of his nerves out on the exhale before beginning again. 

Let it rip, buddy.

“I have loved you for so long – I think maybe since the day you brought me soup after I uh… you know, spilled my drink on you,” he states, earning the sweetest laugh from you, your friends, and family that came to witness. 

“-- so I promise to love you for even longer, for forever. You changed my life.”

You exhale, trying your best not to cry right here and now, thankful for the mysterious powers of waterproof mascara. 

“Jeez, no pressure,” you joke, dryly, before taking another breath, this time approaching your words with much more seriousness.

“Carmen. I’m so happy… that I changed your life,” you begin, cheekily, earning a laugh from your witnesses once more. “Because you changed mine. And I promise to love you forever.” 

‘I love you,’ Carmy mouths to you, before nodding towards the judge to signal that you’re both done with your vows. 

“Alright then,” Judge Thompson smiles, looking from you and then to Carmen, before uttering the question that will change the course of your life forever. 

“I do,” Carmy replies, his voice even, sure, ready. 

Natalie steps up this time, handing Carmy your ring, and you watch, teary eyed and full hearted as he slides it onto your left ring finger. 

“And do you take Carmen Anthony Berzatto to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Judge Thompson repeats the question, this time for you to answer. 

“Yeah, why the hell not?” you reply, earning a groan from your mother and a playful chuckle from your father. 

“Yes. I do.” 

At Richie’s encouragement, it’s Ava this time who steps up, handing you Carmy’s ring, with the sweetest most excited smile on her face as she looks from you to Carmy. You thank her, before returning your attention to Carmy once more. His eyes search your face, and there’s something so soft, so genuine in them that you think you’re going to cry as you help him put on his new piece of jewelry as well. 

“Then by the power vested in me by the State of Illinois, I now pronounce you, husband and wife,” Judge Thompson concludes, contently.

“Should we-, do we kiss?” Carmy asks, looking from you to Judge Thompson. 

“I’m just a civil servant but you may, yes,” he answers lightheartedly. 

“Let’s go for it,” you shrug, taking a step towards Carmy. 

Instead of answering, he smiles, stepping towards you before planting one on you in front of your friends and family that were invited to this brief ceremony. 

While Sugar claps gleefully, Richie claps along muttering a ‘get a room,’ while you remind Carmy to keep it PG enough for your parents. You giggle, slowly pulling away from the kiss that begins the rest of your life with the man that you love. 

“We did it, baby. We’re married,” you chuckle, in disbelief. 

“Finally,” Carmy sighs, and you can see his smile from his lips to the crinkles in the corners of his eyes. 

It doesn’t take long for your mom to usher both you and Carmy over to a spot in the garden she thinks will be best for pictures, just as the photographer arrives. She wasn’t wrong when she insisted you hire one, that you’d want to remember this day for the rest of your life. The photographer, who is incredibly talented, gets the shots needed up here in the garden, then downstairs, and outside, before you’re all off to Sugar’s place for the reception. 

As you and Carmy sit in the car, having taken a separate one than your parents, you’re giddy with anticipation. 

It’s all so surreal. 

Never in his life did Carmy picture it ever getting this good, but as he looks over at you, your head resting on his shoulder, he presses a kiss to the top of your head, smiling to himself. 

“We did it, sweet girl. We’re married,” he says, repeating your words from earlier. 

“Yeah,” you grin, lifting your head off of his shoulder. 

“We are, Bear.”

"give your heart and soul to me, and life will always be la vie en rose."

“No, Sugar! That’s not supposed to go out yet. Everything’s goin’ out family style. Let’s just take out the apps for-,” Carmy exclaims, stressed over the execution of your wedding reception-slash-brunch, because he just can’t help himself. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, Bear!” she snaps at her brother. “Will you calm down and let us handle this?” 

“I just want everything to-,” Carmy begins, his face blushing a shade darker. 

“To go right. We know. And we know we’re just taking out apps, alright? Everyone else is outside, and everyone’s having a good time so just… relax,” she suggests, her tone serious because she’s just about to kick Carmy out of the kitchen. 

Carmy shifts nervously, hyper-fixating on the happenings of the kitchen, his eyes tracking the movements of one of his caterer, Derek’s, sous chefs. It’s almost as if he needs to give himself a distraction as he asks, blankly:

“Do you uh… you think Mom is actually gonna show?”

Sugar pauses, the question throwing her. 

“I… I don’t know. I called her yesterday. She never picked up. What do you think?” she replies, her voice quiet. 

With your encouragement, you and Carmy had sent his mother an invitation to the brunch, only it’s been Sugar who’s followed up with her. 

“We did what we needed to and if she doesn’t come, then she doesn’t come. I’m not pushin’ it,” Carmy had explained, justifying his actions, or rather, lack there of, to you. 

She’s doubtful, but Nat can’t help the tiny glimmer of hope she has in her heart that Donna might show, even if she knows it’s unrealistic. In fact, her mom had barely been interested in stopping by as of late, ever since she’d told the Berzatto matriarch that she was pregnant. She keeps telling herself that it doesn’t matter – that it’s probably better if Donna doesn’t show – but it doesn’t help ease the disappointment she feels about the situation as a whole. 

“Doubt it, honestly. Never even got an RSVP so,” Carmy shrugs, his eyes following one of the caterers as the woman plates a few Hors d'oeuvres on a large serving platter. 

Before Sugar can say anything else about their mom, Carmy’s impulse takes over as he opens his mouth to give feedback to one of Derek’s assistants. 

“Carmy!” she snaps, blocking his pathway with her body, before repeating one more time:

“Let. Us. Handle this.”

“I mean, are any of us actually surprised, Nat?” Sydney adds, as soon as she enters the kitchen from where she’s been outside in the backyard, in search of another plate to bring out. “He’s a control freak! We know this!”

“I-,” Carmy starts, knowing it’s no use protesting, as both Sugar and Syd begin guiding him out of the kitchen and into the living room. 

“C’mon, Carm. Why don’t you go see what your wife is up to?” Sydney suggests, emphasizing your new title, earning a snicker from Natalie. 

“Who’s wife? This wife?” you ask, as soon as your feet hit the bottom of the staircase. 

“Woah,” is all Carmy says. He can’t help but stare, gawking at you in your new dress. 

You’ve changed out of your near-floor length wedding dress into a sleeveless white blazer dress that’s much more friendly to hanging out with your friends and family outside, kept your hair the same, and put on one of those super stay red lipsticks that you’re eager to put through its paces. 

It’s as if time stops when he sees you, and Sugar and Syd both notice, using this time to retreat back to their duties. The only thing that can break his focus right now is the way that you let a carefree laugh fly from your lips, as soon as you see that Natalie’s using the future baby’s baby gate that Nat must’ve purchased early, to officially block Carmy from coming back to the kitchen. 

“What?” Carmy asks, only to be met with a gesture towards what Natalie is doing. 

He frowns, immediately seeing the baby gate his sister has put up. 

“You know, I’m not a baby,” he pouts at his sister. 

“Then stop acting like one!” she parries right back, before disappearing into the kitchen to help out your caterer. 

Quick to console your husband, you wrap your arms around your neck, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“They’re only trying to make sure we have a good time, Bear,” you offer, sympathetically, only to be met with a heavy sigh because you know it feels near-impossible for him not to be in the kitchen. 

“You trust Derek right?” you ask this time, referring to the caterer that Carmy hand-picked for your wedding. 

“Yeah,” he nods. 

“Okay. Then let’s go out there. Make our grand entrance,” you suggest, a playful smile on your lips. 

“Yeah,” Carmy nods again, this time a little more sure about taking a step away from what’s happening inside the kitchen. You take his hand, leading him towards the back door that opens up to the backyard. 

You’re truly amazed at what everyone involved has been able to do this morning, while you and Carmy were off at the courthouse getting married. Long tables pushed together and covered with tablecloths function as the main attraction of the you-and-Carmy-wedding-reception-brunch, filled with ceramic plates, printed menus, apps on serving platters, taper candles and flowers in all kinds of little to big vases. 

The minute the two of you enter the backyard area that’s been transformed into a wedding venue, you’re met with cheers, ooo’s and aaaaah’s, claps, and congratulations by your friends and family. 

“Sugar really knocked this out of the park,” Carmy says, in awe as he takes in the scene. “Okay, fine. I’ll just have to trust, I guess.”

You nod, happy to hear the confidence in his voice as you agree, “That’s my guy!”

There’s a banner that hangs across a much smaller table, the one that holds the stunning wedding cake Marcus has made for you that reads, Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Berzatto.

“See? I told you I couldn’t wait to be Mrs. Berzatto,” you joke with Carmy, as the two of you walk hand in hand towards the table. 

“I think I like the sound of that more than I should,” Carmy smirks, a glimmer in his eyes that says ‘I can’t wait to get you alone.’

“Can’t wait for you to show me later,” you wink, referring to the long weekend you plan on spending with Carmy as a pre-honeymoon. “C’mon. We should probably go say hello.” 

“So… you two married now or what?” Marcus asks, as soon as the two of you approach the table. 

You hold up your left hand, showing off your new ring, earning grins and more cheers from your friends and family. 

“That’s what I’m talking about!” he celebrates, while Tina simultaneously and enthusiastically cries out: “Congratulations, babies!”

The plan is to divine and conquer. While you chat with Gary, Carmy lets himself become enveloped in Tina’s arms and praise, as the two of you make your way down the table saying hello to your guests: your parents, Marcus, Tina, Ebra, Fak, Gary, a few others from the restaurant, while. 

Carmy’s glad you decided to keep this wedding small: close friends and family only, because he’s not sure he could’ve done any more of this. It’s just close friends from the restaurant and your parents. You’d even decided earlier that this weekend would be chill enough that you’d celebrate with Maya and Liz a few months later when you and Carmy stop in New York before the official honeymoon, planning another celebration with your New York people for later. 

Besides, you don’t mind celebrating you and Carmy a few more times, after all. 

Finally, you’re both able to settle into the empty chairs seated right next to your parents in the middle of the table labeled ‘bride’ and ‘groom.’ It’s a Saturday well spent, being celebrated by some of your favorite people in the world on a day you made a promise to your favorite person in the world. It doesn’t take long for everyone in the kitchen to join you at the table: Sugar, Richie, Sydney, and Pete, and once the meal is served, family style, you’re pulling up chairs and insisting that Derek and his team join you as well. 

The menu is perfect, and you can see why Carmy’s been trying to get this guy to come work for him for so long. Next to Carmy’s, this carbonara might be your second favorite carbonara on the planet. After all the eating, drinking, and merry-making, it’s Richie who steps up to start the speeches, gently tapping a butter knife against a champagne glass as he stands at the table. 

“Can I get everyone’s attention?” he asks, his voice loud. Richie raises his champagne glass as he begins his speech with:

“Now as the best man and this Bobby Flay-motherfucker's cousin, I think I earn the right to kick this thing off, eh?” earning a laugh from everyone around the table. 

“To Carmy and his much, much better half,” he continues, earning a laugh from everyone around the table. Your mom squeezes your hand under the table, and out of the corner of your eye you can see Sydney nudging Carmy softly as Richie addresses you. 

“You once made me $150 richer.” You laugh, exchanging a look with your now-husband, as you fondly remember the day you returned to Chicago, only to learn that the entire restaurant staff of The Bear had been betting, not on if, but on when you’d return.

“You see, we all took bets – all of us – that you were comin’ back after that first week you spent here in Chicago, and you know why? I think it was obvious to any jagoff with a pair of eyes that what you and Cousin had was something special – something not to be missed, or overlooked, or skipped over. And thank God you two idiots woke up and figured it out yourselves. You did good, cousin. And I know your brother would’ve wanted to be here for this. I love you, man. I love you both.”

“To this very special day, and to the rest of your lives. Cheers.”

“Cheers!” everyone repeats, raising their glasses, clinking in celebration. 

The upside to having a small wedding party is having a small wedding party, and the downside is that everyone who feels the need to get in a word does so. While Ebraheim waxes on about love as a metaphor, Marcus keeps his toast short, leading to the cutting of your wedding cake:

Vanilla bean cake, with a clementine curd, a swiss meringue buttercream, decorated with delicate flowers, citrus, and dollops of curd to finish. 

Richie slips out with Pete momentarily, earning a few quizzical looks from both Carmy and Nat as she gets up from the table to make sure they’re not trading punches in the driveway. It’s not till Richie returns with Pete, carrying a rented little karaoke machine for Ava. Hand in hand, you watch as Natalie guides Ava up and out of her chair, and over to the head of the table, handing her the microphone. 

“You ready, sweetheart?” she asks, earning a confident nod from Ava. 

The beginning of the famous Taylor Swift begins to play, and you and Carmy exchange a knowing look as she begins to sing along. 

“we were both young when i first saw you i close my eyes and the flashback starts i'm standin' there on a balcony in summer air.”

As Natalie and Pete watch on, Pete hugs his wife close to her, tears in his eyes as he whispers: 

“This is going to be us very, very soon.” 

“Yeah,” Nat nods, holding back her own tears as she notices how proud Richie looks, and how happy Ava seems to be. 

It’s not that she wants Donna here. Realistically, she knows that it would be a nightmare, most likely descending into drama and chaos from the minute she walked in, but she can’t believe that her own mother didn’t come to her son’s wedding. She shouldn’t be surprised, but it hurts more than she imagined, doing this, watching Carmy get married, having this baby with Pete, all without her. 

Ava finishes her Taylor Swing song to a resounding and enthusiastic round of applause. Marcus cheers her on while you and Carmy share a soft, chaste kiss, welcoming Ava with open arms as she runs towards you. 

“That was so good, baby,” Richie exclaims, when it’s his turn to scoop Ava up into his arms as you get out of your seat. Allowing Richie to sit next to Carmy while the two gush over her performance, you get up, eager to help put the karaoke machine away. 

As she watches, Nat reminds herself that this is what family looks like – this is the family she wants for her baby – even if it means something, someones, are missing.

And it’s as if she can’t hold back her tears anymore, excusing herself as she jerks her body away from Pete’s grasp, hurrying back inside so as not to cause a scene. 

“What just-?” Pete begins. 

“I’ll go,” you assure him, having witnessed the whole interaction. “I-, it’s not you, Pete. I’ll go.”

It doesn’t take you long to find Nat, though she’s not where you expected her to be, having run all the way upstairs when you find her sitting on the floor of the baby’s nursery – one you helped paint and get ready over a month ago. 

“Hey, everything alright?” you ask, as you gently push the door open. 

“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” she sniffles, wiping tears out of her eyes as she realizes she’s no longer alone. 

“Nat, what… what’s going on?” you ask her, joining her on the floor. 

But it seems as if your question only makes it worse as her face crumbles once more, beginning to cry. 

“Oh no! I-, Nat, sweetie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it even worse.”

“No, no, you didn’t. It’s just these… stupid pregnancy hormones!” she exclaims, frustratedly, earning a small laugh from the both of you. 

She takes a beat, and then a breath, and then finally, she feels ready to tell you. 

“It’s Mom,” she admits, even though she really doesn’t want it to be. “I just can’t believe she didn’t show. It’s stupid, I know.” 

You nod in understanding, before scooting a little closer to her, “It’s not stupid! And I’m sorry. For the both of you, really. Carmy doesn’t want to talk about it but, I know he’s some combination of relieved and disappointed too.” 

Sugar sighs, “Yeah that uh, that sums it up pretty well. About anything involving Mom these days.” 

Nat takes another breath, and another beat, because she knows she’s safe to share this with you. 

“I just… I’ve just been thinking a lot… with the baby and everything. About family. About motherhood. I mean, your parents are so great and I-. I’m just sad for us, you know?”

“I’m sad for you too,” you empathize, rubbing soothing circles on her back, before leaning back on both of your hands instead. 

“God, I’m so sorry. It’s your wedding day and I’m causing all the drama,” Nat begins to apologize. 

“Oh, you have nothing to be sorry for!” you interrupt her, quick to dismiss any notion of that. “You lent us your house and put together all of this in your backyard on top of accompanying us to the courthouse! You have nothing to apologize for.”

Sugar nods slowly, processing what you’ve just said, realizing that you and Pete have been such big role models of unconditional love for her. 

“Wanna know what I think?” you ask, your voice a little more optimistic this time. 

“What’s up?” she asks back, stealing a glance your way. 

“I think… that now that I’m a Berzatto… and with your little Bear on the way,” you begin, painting her the picture. “We’ve got a whole new chance to write a new chapter for the Berzattos.” 

She looks your way once more, because these are the words she didn’t know she needed to hear. 

“And with that… we can make this… make our families anything we want them to be filled with love, and joy, and-, well, only a little drama because you know, you guys are… you. But… Sug. This can all start with us, you know?”

“You really think so?” she asks you, a hopeful look in her eyes. 

“Yeah,” you answer, confidently. 

She nods slowly once more, almost as if she’s letting herself believe them. 

“Thank you. For checking in on me. For… this,” she says softly, sniffling again. 

“That’s what sisters are for,” you repeat her words back to her, one’s that she’s said to you time and time again. 

“We should probably get back out there,” Sugar suggests, sitting up a little taller this time. 

“Yeeeaaaaahhhhh,” you sigh, disappointedly, this time making a joke as you continue with: “We don’t want to start any rumors about us running away together. 

Nat snorts with laughter, thanking you for always making her laugh, as you stand up, making your way to your feet. You hold out your hands, helping Nat up to hers this time, before the two of you head back downstairs. 

“Hey,” Carmy says, as soon as he sees the two of you. “Pete said you disappeared.”

“We were just talking about some stuff,” you reply, sharing a look with Sugar before releasing her hand. 

“I’ll leave the two of you to it,” she says, before slipping out through the back door. 

“Everything okay?” Carmy asks, his brow knitted together in concern. 

You nod, “Yeah, she’s alright. How’re you doing?”

“Today? I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he replies, a smile on his lips that makes you melt. 

“Damn right you are,” you reply, pressing your lips against his. 

It’s a private moment for just you two, where you can kiss him like you want to, and you have to admit that the lipstick holds up. Wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands go to your waist, you propose a grand idea to your husband:

“Now that cake has been cut… what do you say… we spend a little more time with our guests, say our goodbyes… then we get our honeymoon started early? Think uh… our room at the Langham should be ready by now.”

“Thought we already did that this morning,” Carmy smirks, kissing you again. 

You giggle, leaning your forehead against his, “You know what I mean, jerk.” 

Carmy scoffs, shaking his head incredulously as he feigns hurt, “Married for a few hours and you’re already insulting me.” Instead of adding anything else, he simply pulls you in closer by your hips murmuring against your lips:

“Alright then, Mrs. Berzatto. Then let’s go say goodbye to our guests.”

“it's a love story, baby, just say, "yes" – taylor swift, ‘love story’

[saywhat-politics]

By  GARY FIELDSUpdated 6:38 AM MST, February 27, 2025Share

WASHINGTON (AP) — Thousands of U.S. Agency for International Development workers who have been fired or placed on leave as part of the Trump administration’s dismantling of the agency were being given a 15-minute window Thursday and Friday to clear out their workspaces.

The first USAID workers arrived under heavily overcast skies for what appears likely to be their final visit to the now-closed Washington headquarters of the 6-decade-old aid agency. A small and somber group of supporters greeted them.

Large numbers of federal officers also were waiting outside, with at least seven intercepting one of the first workers who appeared, rolling a suitcase behind him, to escort him inside. While larger bureaus at the agency are urging supporters to turn up to “clap out” staffers over the next two days, a Trump administration ban on USAID staffers speaking publicly also has many fearing retaliation if they speak publicly.

[theswiftieapple]

Hey I saw you do request and I was wondering if you could do a Phoebe x fem!reader and reader is a new member of the ghostbusters and Phoebe is the one training her

You have a pretty smile

Phoebe Spengler x she/her reader

Phoebe and reader's age; 17

Word count; 6447

Warning; some swearing, I haven't written any fanfiction since 2019 so my writing is rusty and english isn't my mother language.

I hope you like it. :)

Narrator’s POV;

The car ride to the Paranormal Research Center was one filled with excited chatter. Lucky was the one driving y/n, a new member of the Ghostbusters, to meet her new partners in crime. Lucky was the one to introduce y/n to Winston, they met when y/n moved with her family to the USA. Lucky was the one to help Y/n with a heavy box when she was moving in and they started talking. They decided to keep hanging out and Lucky thought y/n's personality would fit them great and she showed great interest in the paranormal. Winston at the time was already on the lookout for a new member, four may be the original number of the Ghostbusters but it's better to have too many than too few. 

Lucky introduced them and Winston got to know y/n, he could tell she had the potential and agreed. That’s how y/n got into this situation, walking to the  Paranormal Research Center, fiddling with her fingers, incredibly nervous. From what she heard the other members were nice people but that wouldn't stop the anxiety.

Lucky glanced at her friend sensing her fear, she put a hand on her shoulder to stop her from walking, the door only a few steps away. “Hey, don’t worry about this too much. You’ll do great and they’ll love you! If something does happen you can always come to me and Winston.”

Y/n turned to look at Lucky as she talked, some of her fear disappearing for a short moment. “We’ll stay friends right?” Lucky smiled reassuringly “Of course, would a hug help?” Y/N nodded to the question receiving a tight hug in return. They pulled apart and y/n sighed deeply turning to the door “Let's get the first meeting over with then” Playing confident she walked to the door, Lucky cheered and clapped her back, then she put her card near the scanner to open the large doors. 

—

“What do you mean by a new member?” Callie asked, confused. “Wait, does that mean one of us is getting fired?” Trevor asked worriedly.

“If so it’s probably you,” Phoebe said seriously, she was of course joking but her brother didn't know that. The little joke didn't calm Trevor who opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by Winston. 

“We have been looking for a new member for the Ghostbusters for months now, there are a few reasons why we wanted to expand the team. There are still many ghosts we need to re-catch even two years after they were all released again thanks to Garraka, another member would be able to help with that. I also think a new member would inject fresh energy and ideas. Someone with a different and new background would give us a new perspective on problems and help us solve things quicker. I genuinely do believe this could help the team.” he explained calmly, he seemed quite happy with his decision.

“Why didn’t you maybe warn us beforehand?” Gary asked, baffled at the information they had been kept in the dark from for months. “Well I didn't want to create any false hope, I wanted us to be sure that we found someone new that none of you know.”

“When are we meeting them?” Phoebe asked curious, there was a small part of her that was worried that the new member could betray them. She shuffled at the thought of Melody, she still has some trouble trusting new people. 

Footsteps were heard approaching the main doors including a small beep indicating someone was about to come in.

“Right now” Winston smiled as he turned to the door.

“Wait what” Trevor asked bewildered as he and his family turned to the door.

Lucky walked into the lab with a pretty girl next to her. Phoebe's eyes widened at the realization of what she just thought. 

“This is y/n! Y/n this is your new team” Phoebe's eyes stayed focused on her new team member as Winstron introduced them. “y/n this is Callie'' Callie smiled at Y/n shaking her hand gently. “This is Gary” Gary shot her a smile as well shaking her hand. “This is Trevor, Callies son,” 

“I’m the cool one of the group,” Trevor explained, shaking her hand while smiling proudly. 

Phoebe’s POV

“And this is Phoebe, Callies daughter”  My eyes met hers as we shook hands. I forgot for a second that we weren’t alone, so I let go and sent her an awkward smile, my hand still tingling from the feeling. Why am I feeling like this? Did I just call her pretty in my head? Why is my hand tingling like this?

I was so busy with these thoughts and observing the newcomer that I didn’t notice the glances my brother shared with Lucky, scheming glances.

“She’s new to this, so she is going to need someone to train her and I was hoping one of you could do it” Winston explained, “Phoebe could do it.” My head snapped to look at my brother, giving him a ‘what the fuck’ look. “Phoebe is the smartest one in our team” I could hear Dad whisper a small ouch, “she's the one who's been using our equipment the longest and they’re close in age! How old are you?” He asked y/n, “I’m seventeen-” She was cut off by Trevor clapping his hands, “perfect! What do you think sis?” Trevor teased, ignoring my glare as he put his arm on my shoulder. 

“I-uhm sure” I answered nervously, “Well that’s great then! She is going to be living with you, my men are already cleaning the empty room and assembling the furniture as we speak”

“What empty room?” Mom asked surprised, “There’s no empty room in the firehouse”, I could see y/n being confused like the rest of us except for Lucky and Winston. “The room behind the bookshelf next to Tevor and Phoebe's room of course”

“There’s been an empty room behind one of our bookshelves and you didn't tell us?” 

Winston shrugged at my dad, “I thought you all knew but didn’t use it” He said simply.

“What’s next, a second bathroom?” Trevor jokes, and the glance shared between Lucky and Winston speaks volumes. “ You’re kidding”

“Well then, that’s that, as I said my men are working right now and they should be done very soon. Y/n’s uniform and an extra proton pack and all the other things are being sorted as we speak. I’m just going to have a small talk with Callie and Gary about some things, you guys could get acquainted with each other during that time.” Winston signals my parents to follow him to another room.

Y/n POV;

“It’s an honour to finally meet you guys, I’ve heard a lot of fantastic things about you,” I tell them, the nerves still haven’t disappeared and neither has the excitement. I’m worried they won’t like me, I could feel Phoebe? I think her name was glancing at me. I have to admit she is quite attractive and cute. 

I feel warmth on my cheeks as I keep thinking about her. I can’t think like that about her right now, I just met her. Plus she’s going to be my teammate and that could complicate things. I’ll have to ignore this small..crush, if I can call it that, for now. 

“Thank you, I’m sure we’re going to have lots of fun together,” Trevor said with a small smirk on his face as he put his arm around me. I didn’t notice the teasing smirk he sent his sister or the glare she sent back. “So there is something I have to warn you about,” He said as he and Lucky led me to the famous Ectomobile with Phoebe following behind. “About what?” I ask, worried.

“It’s about a ghost called Slimer, he lives with us”

“What.” I state giving him a serious and worried look as we enter the car.

—

“I think I’ll stay clear of the attic then,” I say as we exit the car. The conversation did drift a lot in the car, I didn’t mind too much since it was nice observing and learning more about them. They all talked except for Phoebe who kept quiet for most of the ride. I could feel her glance at me a few times, she was clearly in thought the whole ride.

“Yeah that’s probably the smarter decision, you should have seen Trevor when he met Slimmer for the first time” Callie teased ruffling her son's hair.

“Mom!” 

“Well then as nice as it is talking with all of you, I am going to have to steal y/n here, I’m going to be the one helping her decorate and sort out her room. If you’ll excuse us” Lucky said, sending them a smile before dragging me away to my new room.

Narrator’s POV;

“What’s up with you?” 

Phoebe turned to look at her mom, acting oblivious. “What do you mean?” Callie came closer wearing a teasing look. “I mean that you’ve been very quiet since we met our new member, lost in thought.”

“And lost in her eyes” Trevor teased as he walked away snickering, Phoebe grabbed a random towel and threw it at him, hitting him in the back, and he scurried off after that. 

“Well your brother isn't completely wrong, everything okay?” Callie asked, her worry present in her eyes. Phoebe stared at her shoes, for a moment, “I’m alright, don’t worry about it Mom” She left with that, lost in her thoughts.

—

“So, you and Phoebe” Lucky started as she opened a box full of different books. “Don’t start” y/n warns, Lucky turns to her friend with a knowing look. 

“I have a very strong feeling you have a small crush on her.” 

“I don’t”

Lucky made a sound of disagreement while making a face, “Maybe not yet, but you feel something, I can tell” she sang the last part, dodging a small pencil case, her smirk not faltering.

“I know your type, remember you told me” 

“Yeah because we made a deal that you would tell me who you like in return, and that someone is in this building as we speak.” y/n teased back. Lucky opened her mouth to try and form words, her cheeks having a red hue to them. “This isn’t about me and that someone-”

“Trevor you mean”

Y/n snorted at the look she received. “As I was saying, this is about you and Phoebe and the small crush that's going to grow stronger with time, she is quite literally what you described your type to me, short hair, fluffy or curly, glasses, a nerd-”

“Yeah, I get it” Y/n grumbles as she puts her bed lining on, “can you help me with this?” She raises the comforter pleadingly. Lucky stands up and helps her even it out. “I just don't want to label these feelings since we just met, besides the chances of her liking me isn’t zero but it’s also unlikely right now”

Lucky put a hand on her friend's shoulder comfortingly, “As your friend it's my job to remind you that there is a good chance she may like you back” Y/n played with one of her pillows thoughtfully. “I don’t want to rush anything, maybe she will and maybe she won’t but thank you”Lucky smiled back at her friend, “Now where do you want me to put these CDs” 

Y/n smiled and showed her friend. 

—

Y/n’s POV;

Dinner went nicely, I mostly listened as the family shared a few recent stories about the ghosts they’ve captured lately. Phoebe was quiet through most of it. I could tell the way she was behaving wasn't normal, I noticed thanks to the small looks her family were giving her. 

I got comfortable in bed and stared outside the window, it was pouring. I hope I didn’t upset her with being here, if I did I could see why. I am a total stranger that just appeared today, she was then told I would live with her and her family at the same time. It’s a lot of new information and a lot of new changes. 

I turned on a show on my phone to fall asleep too. I lost consciousness In a matter of a few minutes, hoping tomorrow would go well.

—

I woke up to soft knocking, I turned around to look at the door, squinting to see who it was. “Good morning, breakfast is going to be ready in half an hour, I wanted to make sure you were awake.” I sent Gary a smile and muttered a small thank you and with that, he disappeared.

I sat up and stared at my lap thoughtfully. Today was my first official day as a Ghostbuster or at least a Ghostbuster in training. 

Phoebe was going to be the one training me, I’m already dreading the weight of the proton pack. With those thoughts I stand up and get ready for the day, dressing in something comfortable and doing my hair.

I walk out of my room and glance at the firefighter pole, it’s too early in the morning for that and I’m not in the mood to land in the hospital on my first day so I walk down the stairs. I was met with the sight of Gary cooking and Trevor stealing some of the fruit when he wasn't looking. 

“Good morning,” I say and sit down on one of the chairs at the kitchen island. “Good morning!” Gary smiled as he flipped a pancake, “Morning!” Trevor said with a mouth full of strawberries. “So how are you feeling about your first day?” Gary asked, trying to start a conversation.

“I’m a bit nervous, I’ve never done anything like this before but I am excited,” I explained fiddling with my fingers. “You’ll do great I’m sure! With Phoebe as your teacher, it’ll all go great.” 

I smiled and whispered a small thank you. “Do you need any help?” I ask, ready to stand up. “Nah, I’ve got this but thank you” Gary told me as he put the pan away, I could see him playfully swap Trevor's hand away from the cut fruit. 

“Where’s Phoebe?” Trevor asked, sitting next to me, he put his fist underneath his chin. “She woke up early, she’s visiting Podcast and Dr Ray, she had something to discuss with them. I don’t know what it is though” Gary explained as he put plates in front of me and Trevor, I took a sip out of the glass in front of me.

“So what do you guys usually do when there isn’t a ghost to bust?” I asked as I put some toppings on my pancake. 

—

Phoebe’s POV;

I opened the door to Dr Ray’s shop, “Morning Dr Ray” I said as I entered, he looked up at me surprised. “Morning Phoebe, you’re here earlier than usual”

“I wanted to talk with Podcast about something, is he here or?”

“I’m right here!” He said, his head poking out from the door behind Dr Ray, “ I'll see you later then” Dr Ray smiles and continues to read a book. I go in and walk after Podcast, “So what’s up?”

“There’s a new ghostbuster on the team” I blurted out. He stops in his tracks and turns to look at me. “There’s a new ghostbuster?” He asked excitedly, “Is that bad or?” He raised an eyebrow noticing my attitude.

I leaned against his desk before I continued speaking “It’s not bad, she seems...nice” I started, he did a hand signal telling me to continue “I’m the one who's going to be training her and well” I stopped talking not knowing how to continue. Podcast gave me a look.

“What?”

“You’re acting weird, does the idea of training her bother you or?” 

I shake my head “No, it doesn’t, I just feel..nervous” 

Podcast flings one of the Pufts that was bothering him as I speak before he responds “Why are you nervous? Are you worried she might betray us and release a great evil that we’re going to have to defeat?” He asks, I give him a deadpan look. “Listen if you are worried about that, that would be okay. I’m just trying to understand what the problem is here.” He reasons, sending me a concerned look.

I put a hand in my hair, messing with it. “That’s the problem, I don’t even know what's bothering me about this situation exactly. I met her yesterday and she’s staying with us now as well. She does seem nice, Winston and Lucky recruited her, I know they have good instincts but” I sigh deeply grimacing. “I don’t know, there’s some weird feeling in me and I’m worried about what it could be and what it could turn into.”

“You’re scared that you like her?” Podcasts asks bluntly, “I just met her, there’s no way I have feelings already.'' I protest, “But, the way I’m feeling right now, is similar to how I felt when meeting Melody, but it's also different. I don’t understand it and I hate not understanding things.”

There was silence for a moment until Podcast spoke, “Well I don’t think you’ll understand what that feeling is for a good while. You two just met, there could be special feelings involved but you won’t know for sure for a while. I suggest just letting those feelings take their course.”

“Why didn’t I think of that,” I say out loud, Podcast patted my shoulder “That’s what I’m here for, being the voice of reason”

—

I walked into the firehouse after having a long talk with Podcast. I still don’t like the idea of unknown feelings and I am worried about feeling something for someone again but there isn’t anything I can do about it. 

“Uno!” A collecting group of groaning was heard alongside a laugh. 

I walk into the room to see My family playing Uno with y/n and Lucky. “How do you win so much, this is the fifth time” Trevor whined, putting his head on the table. “Magic” y/n says jokingly doing jazz hands, “I have two other card games that I think you’d like” 

“Do you have ‘Frantic’ with you?” Lucky asked, but before she could answer the alarm went off, signalling there was a ghost loose causing havoc. “Hey Phoebs! Let’s go!”Mom said as she rushed off, Gary and Trevor following, “Hey y/n, we can start with the training when I get back” I called out to her, “Lucky and you could meet me at the Research Center after we bust this ghost” I say awkwardly shooting her some finger guns before turning around and walking away quickly, hoping the heat that I feel on my cheeks wasn’t what I thought it was and if it is then that they didn't notice.

Narrator’s POV;

Lucky and y/n cleaned up after themselves soon after and drove to the Paranormal Research Center. Y/n went to a changing room to put on her uniform. She walked out nervous, “Does it look okay?” She asked, Lucky turned around and gasped, “You look amazing!! Do a spin!” She asked excitedly while clapping. Y/n did as asked. 

“It suits you perfectly!” She said hugging her friend. “Thank you, you’re too nice”  Lucky pulled away, “I bet when Phoebe sees you in it, her jaw will drop” Y/n rolled her eyes playfully “We’ll see about that. So while we wait why don't you update me on that new ghost you’ve been studying on” 

Lucky’s smile widened, excited to share her new discoveries, she grabbed y/n’s wrist and dragged her to her working station.

Phoebe walked into the lab an hour later, fixing her hair from all the wind. She could see Lucky explaining something while y/n listened patiently, wearing her Ghostbusters uniform. Phoebe had to force herself to not stare for too long, so she walked up to the two of them. “And that’s why we had to make sure those two weren’t next to each other, I swear I couldn't focus properly the whole time” 

“Hey there, sorry to interrupt your conversation, but are you ready for your first training session?” Phoebe asks, standing in front of them.“Yeah, I am! We’ll continue with our talk later” Y/n told Lucky before turning to Phoebe again who led her to the small training room. “The uniform suits you, not many can pull it off”

Y/n turned to look at Phoebe surprised, a small blush on her cheeks, “thank you, you look great in it too” she says, hoping that wasn’t too straightforward. “So, Winston said you have no prior experience”

Y/n nodded, “I have never used any of this equipment, correct.”

Phoebe crossed her arms nodding, “alright then, first thing first is to put the proton pack on, you can put it on normally like a backpack.” Y/n did as told, she let out a little grunt at the weight.” I knew they would be heavy but wow, now what next?” she asked excitedly.

“You hold this part, the particle thrower, you can also call it a particle gun” The new member did as told before looking at Phoebe again nodding. “Wait, can I show you something?” Phoebe asked, she got a nod as a response. 

She stepped closer, only centimetres apart as she helped y/n hold it properly, putting her hands where they are supposed to be. “ See that ghost up there,” Phoebe asked, focusing on the task at hand, trying to ignore her own bubbling feelings. She was so busy that missed y/n staring at her face, a blush forming. “Yeah i-uh do” y/n responds, trying to focus as well.

She’s holding a dangerous weapon, she’s seen what they could do online, she needs to focus, she tells herself.  “Okay, I’m going to help you with this one and show you how to turn it on. Are you ready?” Phoebe asked, glancing at her, “Yes I am.”

“Okay you switch it on like this” Phoebe explained as she turned it on with y/n, “when you’re ready to shoot you press this button right here, on the count of three, ready?

Y/n took a deep breath in before answering “Ready”

“1” Phoebe starts, glancing at y/n.

“2,” She says tightening her grip, y/n tries to steady her breathing.

“3”

With that they shot at the ghost made out of wood, It falling apart in two. Y/n’s jaw dropped, “That’s how you’re going to practise, the actual thing takes longer and needs more strength but our priority is to perfect your aim for now, the charged particle accelerator is a weapon of science that can cause a lot of damage if used incorrectly and without proper practice.”

“First of all that was awesome” Y/n stated with a wide smile on her face, “two, I’ve heard of all of that, Lucky told me about some of your bigger damages. It’s impressive how something so dangerous can be something that helps so many people'' Y/n rambles, observing the damage with interest. While she was distracted Phoebe looked at all her features close up. She could feel her cheeks turning red from all the close proximity. She slowly pulled away crossing her arms, not knowing how to act.

“Well whenever you’re ready, you can start practising, I’ll be here the whole time, so if you need any help just tell me” Phoebe said while rubbing the back of her neck. Y/n nodded as another ghost came down, Phoebe didn't stray far, staying a few steps away just in case. 

Y/n took a deep breath before shooting, hitting the wooden ghost on the side, she stumbled backwards, and Phoebe caught her in time, holding the particle thrower with her. “Okay that was your first time on your own and it went better than expected.”

“Better than expected?” Y/n asked embarrassed, “Yeah, you’re doing okay, try again, I’ll stay closer to catch you if that happens again okay?” 

Outside of the training room, Lucky was observing their interactions with a small scheming smirk. “What are you smirking at?” Lars asked as he opened the spirit extractor, taking a spirit-free plushie out of it.

“No reason,” Lucky answered, ignoring the eyebrow raise of Lars, he shook his head and walked away to continue working. 

The training went on until 5 pm, y/n was exhausted after all the trying, her arms sore, but it was all worth it, the thought of capturing ghosts excited her. Phoebe opened the door of the training room letting her out first, y/n nodded and muttered a small thank you as she walked out. “Keep this up and I think you’ll be ready to go out with me- “ she cut herself off quickly, trying to correct herself “I mean go out with us on missions soon.” 

She tried not to look at y/n's face, she didn’t want to make it any more awkward.

As they were walking to the main doors, saying their goodbyes to the other workers, Lars called out “Y/n!”

The said person turned around to look at the scientist, “Lucky asked me to tell you that she’s going to come to visit and help out more with your room around 6 pm”

“Thank you, have a nice night!” 

Phoebe bit her lip for a second before continuing with their walk, Gary was picking them up today. She looked at Y/n who was walking beside her. Did..she and Lucky maybe have something going on? She turned around quickly when she met eyes with y/n.

“I hope not,” Phoebe whispers to herself, “What did you say?” Y/n asked curious, Phoebe straightened her back, she opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out. Luckily for her, Gary appeared with the Ectomobile, saving her for now.

“Hey there you two! Are you ready to go home?” He asked with a wide smile.

They both got in the car and put their seatbelts on, the car ride back was quiet, the only background noise being the music playing on the radio.

The evening wasn't much different than last night, Phoebe disappeared to her room and didn’t come out until morning, leaving y/n slightly confused and worried.

—

Phoebe sat on one of the chairs at the kitchen island, drinking some coffee while tapping her pencil on the island, thinking, trying to calm down. The idea of having to be so close to y/n made her giddy and scared her at the same time. 

She was worried she would make it awkward like last night if Gary didn’t appear when he did…

She sighed, putting her pencil and coffee down, putting her head in her hands, staring at the open notebook, full of scribbles, she couldn’t focus on her work. Her head was filled with images of last night, her heartbeat picking up remembering how close she was to y/n. She couldn’t lie, she missed the warmth of her hands underneath hers, they were soft. She let her mind wander, imagining how they would feel properly holding her hands.

“Phoebe, are you doing okay?”

Her hands slammed on the table making the coffee spill by accident, she turned to look at the newcomer. “Oh, hi,” Phoebe said brushing imaginary dust off of her shirt” Hi” she leaned on the island crossing her arms, sending y/n an awkward smile. “Hi”

In her head, Phoebe was cursing herself out, ‘three hi’s??’

Y/n glanced at the spilt coffee and then back to Phoebe, with a questioning look, before she could repeat the question, she got an answer.  “I’m doing okay, alright, doing great.” Phoebe cringed at her repetitive awner, Y/n walked closer, her face not changing. Phoebe put a hand underneath her chin, trying to act normal. “Are you sure about that? I called your name three times and you didn’t notice” 

“I was thinking,” she answered quickly. 

“May I ask what you were thinking about?”

“Science.”

Y/n blinked, staring at Phoebe, waiting for her to continue while Phoebe avoided her eyes at all costs. Deciding to change the subject, she pointed at the spilt coffee, “Do you maybe need help cleaning that or?”

Phoebe glanced at the spilt coffee before standing up and getting some paper towels to clean it up. “Right, right, you’re right”

“Alright then, I’ll go and..do a thing” Y/n said walking backwards before turning around to get ready for the day. “Oh good morning Trevor” and with that she disappeared up the stairs.

Phoebe cursed under her breath, “How much of that did you hear?”

“Oh you mean how much did I hear of your nervous rambling? Pretty much all of it” Trevor says casually, walking closer. “So, you and” he points his fingers behind him. “Ya know”

“There’s nothing going on” Phoebe defends throwing the paper towels away. “Nothing at all?”

“Nothing at all”

“Not even a smalllll thing” He pries, making his pointer finger and thumb almost touch. “Not even a small thing” Phoebe shrugs nonchalantly. Trevor nods, letting the silence settle before asking another question. “So, what science thing were you thinking about?”

Phoebe leans on the now clean island again trying to find the words, she sighed “I wasn’t actually thinking about science,”

“Then what?” Trevor interrupted. Phoebe sent him a glare before continuing “I was just thinking about all the things I could teach her today.”

“Y/n you mean?”

Phoebe nodded in response.

“Were you thinking about how close you’re going to be again today?” Trevor questions while picking out an apple from the bowl. Phoebe stood up straight but before she could retort, Trevor interrupted her “Lucky told me all about how close you were yesterday.” He informed Phoebe with a smirk on his face.

Steps were heard coming down the stairs, “We’ll continue this after your little date today” Trevor whispered. “Training” Phoebe corrected.

“Good Morning” Callie greeted, walking over to the coffee machine. “I need to get ready for the day,” Phoebe says, grabbing her pencil and notebook and heading off to her room. 

“Did I miss something?” Callie asked her son, pouring herself a coffee in her favourite mug. “Not much” Trevor shrugged, taking a bite out of his apple. 

—

The following days were filled with not only bettering y/n’s aim but awkward moments as well, or that’s what Phoebe thought, y/n thought her awkwardness was adorable. Phoebe also learned that Lucky, the traitor, was feeding her brother information daily about her and y/n’s interactions. Specifically the more ‘embarrassing’ ones. 

Phoebe crossed her arms thinking, watching y/n put away the proton pack, “I think you’re ready to train with real ghosts”

Y/n turned around “real ghosts?”

“Real ghosts,” Phoebe repeated.

A wide smile appeared on y/n’s face, excitement prominent on her face. 

The next day they were driven out to an open area. Trevor and Lucky stayed back in the car while they walked out. “The reason I want you to train with real ghosts before going on missions is so that you’ve trained with more than just a painted ghost made out of wood, some real experience. If anything happens I’ll be right here”

“I brought a few of the traps, they have different ghosts, you'll do one at a time of course. You’ll be the one busting it and I’ll be the one trapping it.” She explained as she put a trap on the ground, putting the foot pedal where they’ll be standing. “Are you ready?”

Y/n nodded confidently, raising the particle thrower, and turning it on.

In the blink of an eye, the ghost trap opened, and a big orange ghost appeared. Y/n cringed slightly at the look of it. When it noticed her she shot right at it, hitting it. She grimaced at the strength that was needed, it’s not as hard as she imagined but it’s not easy either. “Keep going, I'll wait a moment before trapping it, it usually takes a while for us to trap it after we caught it”

No response came back, y/n tried to focus on the ghost, and after a few seconds, the ghost was sucked into the trap.

“Good Job!” Phoebe sent a smile as she picked up the trap, “Oh my arms are going to be so sore tomorrow” y/n groaned.

“That’s the point of training, to improve your skills.” Phoebe reminds, “Oh really? I thought the point of all of this was to torture me” Y/n jokes, panting from what she just had to do. “I'll call it torture and you can call it training. Deal?

Y/n reached out to shake hands, Phoebe glanced at her hand before shaking it. “Alright then, deal.”

“Now this ghost is bigger, you ready?” Phoebe asked, putting a second trap down. 

“Ready.” The sound of the proton pack turning on again was heard. A giant ghost appeared. Y/n immediately shot at it, gritting her teeth as she held it back.

“So, a photon is checking into a hotel” Phoebe starts speaking, y/n turns her head to look at her confused. She let out a small yelp as the ghost pulled harder, luckily for her it didn't break free.

“What-”

“Keep going,” Phoebe tells her, “I’ll start again, a photon is checking into a hotel”

Y/n looked back at the ghost, it was a feisty one. “So the bellhop asks, ‘Do you need help with your luggage?’”

Y/n sighed deeply, focusing on the ghost, she shot Phoebe a few glances, ‘Is..she telling a joke right now??’ “Towards that, the photon responds ‘No thanks, I’m travelling light’” She winks at Y/n.

It was silent for a moment until a snort was heard, “alright that one was good” She says snickering, “Please catch it now my arms are hurting” Phoebe did as told, it being sucked into the trap. The sound of the proton pack turning off was heard, and she sighed in relief. “It’s one of my favourite jokes,”  she explains picking up the trap. “I can see why, it's good, but why were you telling me jokes right now? Not that I mind.”

“When we’re on missions, there’s always chatter happening between us, maybe some bystanders, and I wanted to test if you could focus while being told a great joke.”

“So does this mean you’ll keep telling jokes during training?” Y/n asks, stretching her head. “Would you consider that a bad thing?” 

Y/n looks at Phoebe, who is picking out a new trap, “I don’t think it's a bad thing, I like jokes and puns” she explains, she could feel a warmth creeping up her neck as she admired Phoebe underneath the sunlight. A small smile formed.

‘she’s so pretty’

“Well it’s good you don’t mind since I have many more” Phoebe says preparing for another ghost. Y/n looked away when Phoebe walked over. “Good to hear” 

—

“How long do you think it’ll take until they start dating?” Trevor thought for a second before answering Lucky, ”eight maybe nine months max”

“I give it..three weeks, ”

“That’s quick”

“Look at them” Lucky points at the two outside of the car, training. Y/n was laughing after a joke Phoebe made, Phoebe stared at her with a smile, saying something they couldn’t hear from inside the car, but it had to be something funny considering the laughing wasn't stopping. “I bet you five bucks Phoebes using her jokes and unknowingly winning y/n over.”

“Five bucks?” Trevor asked, raising an eyebrow, “What? Five bucks is a lot in this economy” Lucky shrugged before putting a chip in her mouth.

—

“I think you’re ready to go on your first mission” Phoebe says, breaking the silence while they put away their gear. 

“Really?” Y/n asks excitedly, “Yeah, you did very well.” Phoebe smiles softly, “Plus you think my jokes are funny, if you’re with us then it won't be just Gary laughing at them”

“Ah so my sucking up worked” Y/n jokes, “I don’t think that’s what happened, you seemed genuinely happy and were laughing quite a lot,” Phoebe tells her, leaning on the locker. “I am an amazing actor” Y/n explains, Phoebe leans closer so they're face to face, inches away from each other. “Oh no person is that good of an actor, you even turned red from laughing, come on admit it, my jokes are hilarious”

Y/n tried to act casual, a small part of her was happy that Phoebe didn't realise she was blushing because of her back there as well. Y/n hums, pretending to think, before answering “They were alright”

Phoebe raised an eyebrow making y/n put a hand on her mouth to not let a giggle out, “They were alright?”, Phoebe got a nod in return, “you’re lying” Phoebe reasons, “I’m not”

“You are”

“No”

“If you aren’t lying, then there shouldn’t be a smile behind that hand” 

Y/N shakes her head, “Come on, remove it” Phoebe teases, she gets another shake of the head as a response, she could see y/n shaking slightly from holding in laughs. “Come on, let me see” Phoebe asks, grabbing Y/ns wrist softly, removing her hand to reveal a wide smile. “So you agree I’m funny.”

“Okay maybe you are” Y/n shrugs, just then realising how close their faces were to each other, her breath hitched, her eyes drifting to Phoebe’s lips for a second before returning to look into her eyes. Her wrist, where Phoebe was holding her felt warm, she resisted the urge to properly hold her hand. “You have a pretty smile” Phoebe whispered, lost in thought. ”It’s all thanks to you, being around you makes me happy” Y/n whispered back. 

The only thing they could hear was the sounds of each other's breathing and their own heartbeats. They leaned it close, eyes trained on each other, lips almost touching but before anything could happen they heard the Ectomobile from outside. They pulled away quickly, realising what they almost did blushing.

Callie walked in backwards helping Gary park the Ectomobil. “Oh hey there, how was training?” Callie asked, curious. “It went great,” Phoebe answers, clearing her throat. Callie glanced between them both, noticing the tension, both of them were blushing, Phoebe rubbing the back of her neck and Y/n had her arms crossed, refusing to look at each other. Callie made an ‘oh’ face, realising what might have been happening before they came home.

“I have to go” Y/n says quickly, “so do I” Phoebe responds, they both try to go in the same direction, but they both stop before Y/n ushered Phoebe to go first, walking after her. “Lucky just might win that bet,” Trevor states, him and Gary entering as well. “What bet?” Callie questioned.

“Uhhh nothing” Trevor shrugs walking up to the apartment as well.

Part 2

[gomtotemeal]

They built the world’s largest salad. The whole thing was set up in a park about an hour away from our home so my wife Diane convinced me that it might be fun to go see it.

“Deb and Gary are going this afternoon and so I thought we’d ride over there with them.”

“Will there be any left?”

“Oh, it’s not to eat,” said Diane. “It’s like an art piece. The Guinness World Records people will be there.”

On the way over, I started to talk about a Cobb salad I had at this place near my office that was pretty big.

“I usually eat only about half of it.”

“Well, I’m sure this one is much bigger than that,” said Gary.

“Jesus Christ, Gary. I wasn’t implying that I thought the Cobb salad I had was bigger than this salad. It’s just that all of this giant salad business has me thinking about large salads I’ve had before. God!”

“It was a joke,” said Gary. “Calm down.”

But I could tell from the muscles in his face that Gary was lying. Deb quickly chimed in with a request to hear about more of the big salads I’d had, but I was over it. The mood had been ruined.

“Forget it,” I said. “Let’s just get this thing over with.”

The salad was huge. According to a series of laminated signs, we learned that all of the produce had come by way of donations from local farmers and then a college in New York had commissioned a handful of artists to construct a gigantic ceramic bowl to put everything in.

We took pictures and afterwards I bought a t-shirt at the gift shop. It was powder blue with a graphic of the gigantic salad pasted right on the front. On the back was the date and city.

In the car, Gary said that the salad on my t-shirt just looked like a regular-sized salad.

“Bullshit,” I said. “It’s huge.”

“Well maybe it’s huge because you know that it’s huge,” said Diane. “But to someone who doesn’t know what it is, I can see how it looks like a regular salad.”

I looked at it again and realized that they were right. How could I have allowed myself to be seduced by the context of such a limited reality? The only place a gigantic salad can truly exist is sitting there right in front of you! Even photos were a stretch. I stifled my anger and humiliation with short breaths and concentrated on the scenery so as not to rip the t-shirt in half in a blind rage.

Gary had made me look like a fool twice in a span of mere hours and I desperately needed to restore balance. That night, I sat in my study and replayed the day’s events in my mind. Surely, Gary had to have slipped up somewhere and said or done something dumb.

“Diane,” I said. “Wake up.”

“God, what time is it?”

“Remember when we first saw the salad? Remember what Gary said?”

“I don’t know.”

“He said that the salad was so big that he’d need a pitchfork to eat it! Remember?”

She thought about it. “I guess. I really don’t remember.”

“He did say it! Ha! What an idiot!”

I clapped my hands together.

“Because, Diane. The ingredients were standard-sized ingredients. It was only the salad itself that was huge.”

“So.”

“So why the pitchfork?! Does Gary suddenly have a gigantic head with such a gigantic mouth that a regular fork won’t do? God, he’s so stupid! Isn’t he stupid, Diane?”

“I don’t know what your problem is with Gary.”

“I don’t have a problem with Gary! I just have a problem with an idiot who thinks that large portions automatically correlate with large utensils. I mean, Christ Diane! What an idiot!”

I could see that my wife wanted me to leave, but I wasn’t done yet.

“Why, that would be like thinking that…” I paused, a grin plastered to my face, and tried to think of a similar example containing both a large food item and another large utensil. But it wouldn’t come to me.

“It would be like what?” asked Diane.

“Nothing! I’ll think of it later.”

In the early hours of the morning, Gary was awakened by an anonymous phone call from the payphone outside of a nearby liquor store.

“Hello?”

“If someone gave you a gigantic sundae, you’d probably try to eat it with a snow shovel!”

 Click.

[space-blue]

Not that many care about my opinion on the topic, but I cannot comprehend the takes I've seen on Oppenheimer prior to viewing the film.

I'm just out of the cinema and I cannooooot believe that I've heard and seen people complain about the "Americans clapping" scene as not sensitive, and that it should have shown the bombs dropped and the damage done. I've read takes that came down to 'the film is PRAISING the bomb by refusing to show its damage' and holy shit I was bracing myself.

But not only is the clapping scene shot like the genre just switched to horror, plunging us into very interesting exploration of the mental dissonance Oppenheimer is going through at that moment... I was left wondering...

Have those critics not seen Grave of the Fireflies? Barefoot Gen? In This Corner of the World? Watched documentaries on the bombs, on hibakushas? Have they not read the Hiroshima book by John Hersey that collects horrifying first hand accounts of Hiroshima survivors?

Have they stepped into the theatre with no background understanding of the atomic bomb and the horrors it carried?

Because this entire scene, actually much of Oppenheimer's mindset post bomb drop, DEPENDS on the public's understanding of WHAT THE PEOPLE ARE CLAPPING FOR. They're clapping for their project completion, for their victory, and for unknown amount of dead people. And WE KNOW that they are clapping for some of the most horrifying shit ever. We know they're clapping the cold war and nuclear proliferation's birth.

The film relies on you understanding this! The film depends on you activating your neurons and putting 2 and 2 together.

The film treats the audience as adults who don't need to see dead civilians to EMPATHISE for those civilians. You're also meant to be alienated from these cheering scientists, just as you can't help understanding why they're cheering.

It makes sense yet it's awful. Dissonance.

If you need your hand held so bad to understand why the bomb is a great evil, no matter how necessary it might have felt, when watching a biopic, then maybe you should have stuck to Barbie only, as that film was fun but significantly less challenging.

Also damn but Gary Oldman as Truman was so terrific, this guy really is a million faces.

[not-poignant]

Read the new UtB chapter (so good) but went Oh No Gary Oh Noooooooo. All that foreshadowing about Mike and what’s going to happen has me both clapping my hands in excitement for the angst to come but also internal screaming.

I think we're all a bit like this (those of us who read Falling Falling Stars anyway) about Michael Henton!

I mean I'm comfortable saying he's not a good guy. Though I'm also comfortable saying he's not getting hold of Efnisien for months (or even weeks, or days) like he did in FFS.

That being said, one of the things I like about getting a couple to the point where they can both face the same direction is they are both better prepared to handle fresh trauma.

Efnisien's response to Michael in the beginning of the story would be very different to what it will be now!!

But yeah also the screaming on that angst rollercoaster? Valid. I'm not nearly done with Gary or Efnisien yet lmao

[vibewithma]

05 | Chef Romeo

masterlist | previous | next

The house smells like home. Onions sizzling in palm oil, shito shimmering low, waakye steamed in banana leaves and soft kelewele tucked into foil. The dining room is warm with familiar chaos: clinking silverware, loud voices and some Daddy Lumba that spills into the hallways.

“Ah, Y/N! My precious girl!” Kwaku beams, rising from his chair in his navy polo and tailored trousers. His banker swag is intact, but the way he hugs Y/N, lifting her slightly off the floor, gives away his soft heart. “Look at you! You’ve lost weight are you eating well??”

Y/N laughs, swatting at his shoulder. “Pops! I’m eating. You’re just used to me looking bloated after mom’s cooking.”

Afia walks in from the kitchen, her headscarf tied tight and a wooden spoon in her right hand. “Bloat or not, she is still beautiful. As for you sit down and eat. And me babea (my daughter) Jasmine welcome again and I hope you are hungry.”

“Thank you, Mama Afia! It smells like heaven in here.” Jasmine grins, already slipping her sandals off.

Everyone settles around the dining table. The waakye is front and center, flanked by fried plantain, boiled eggs, gari, spaghetti, and avocado slices. The kelewele is in a metal bowl, too dangerous to leave in reach of just one person. Jasmine’s camera is tucked away tonight, she’s not vlogging. Tonight, she’s just having family time.

Ony claps his hands. “Alright, alright, let’s give the Lord a quick shout-out for this championship food before we dig in.”

“Momma yɛmmɔ mpae.(Let us pray.)” Kwasi reach’s out for the hand of his wife and his daughter while putting his head down.

They pray, short and sweet, then everyone dives in.

Kwaku spoons waakye like he’s been starving since morning. “So Ony, that last play ehh! You jumped so high, I almost passed out in the living room. Jasmine was screaming like you proposed!”

Jasmine cackles. “Okay, but he was flying! You didn’t see me almost break the camera?”

Afia grins, slicing her boiled egg. “I’ve already told my coworkers at the school. ‘My son is in the NBA playoffs,’ I said. ‘Yes, me!’”

She turns to Y/N. “But tell me why a beautiful girl like you isn’t bringing a boyfriend home?”

Y/N chokes on her drink. “Mom!”

“Ah! Don’t ‘Mom’ me. I’m serious. You’re in school, yes, but does that mean no romance? No cute boys?”

Jasmine, mouth full of kelewele, grins like a devil. “Oh, there was a cute boy. At the club…”

Y/N shoots her a look. “Please.”

Kwaku leans in, eyebrows raised. “Ehhh? What is this I’m hearing?”

Ony looks up from his place. “Which guy Y/N?”

Y/N groans. “No one is talking about this. Let’s go back to Ony jumping ten feet in the air.”

Afia narrows her eyes, pointing the tip of her spoon at Y/N like it’s a mic. “Don’t play with me, Y/N. You know I’ll get the truth one way or another. Is he good to you, anaa? Does he open the door? Buy you food? Say please and thank you?”

Jasmine’s already wheezing. “Mama Afia, you sound like you’re ready to interview him for a job!”

Afia turns to Jasmine, completely serious. “He is applying. Applying to love my daughter. This is not a game.”

Ony leans in, smirking over a mouthful of waakye. “So who is he? Lemme find out you were out there falling for some backup point guard with crusty ankles.”

Y/N glares. “Ony. Please.”

But he’s not letting it go. “Was it the guy with the chain and the curls? He looked like he moisturizes. I’ll give him that.”

Afia gasps. “Curls?! Ei! Kwaku, are you hearing this? She’s falling for a boy with curls!”

“I’m not falling for anyone!” Y/N half-laughs, half-cries, hiding her face behind her hands. “Y’all are ridiculous.”

Jasmine giggles into her plantain. “You should’ve seen the way he was looking at her though, Ma. All like…” she puts on a dramatic voice and clutches her chest, “‘Let me buy you a drink’”

Afia gasps. “Ah! He offered to buy you a drink? Herh ɔpɛ wo (he wants you).”

Y/N slides low in her chair, cheeks burning, while the table is practically shaking with laughter. Ony slaps the table. “So you’re telling me this man talked with my sister, offered her hydration, and now he’s got you all giggling? This is insane behavior.”

“ENOUGH,” Kwaku finally says, setting his spoon down with that perfect fatherly finality, calm but commanding.

The table goes still. Even Jasmine shuts her mouth mid-laugh.

Kwaku’s voice softens. “If there is someone, and if it’s serious… she will tell us. When she’s ready.”

He glances at Y/N, eyes warm behind his glasses. “We don’t need to dig or poke. All we need is for her to feel safe. And if this boy is good enough, we will meet him in time.”

Afia sighs, her face relaxing. “Fine, fine. I’ll stop asking… but only for now.”

Y/N peeks up, grateful. “Thanks, Pops.”

He gives her a wink and goes back to eating. “Now. Somebody pass me more kelewele before Ony eats it all. I saw you take four pieces, boy.”

Ony protests. “That’s a lie mom, tell him!”

Jasmine chimes in, snatching the bowl. “This kelewele is the real man of the hour. Spicy and dependable.”

Afia smirks. “Just like the men I want for Y/N.”

“MOM!”

Meanwhile

Nicólo’s and Sasha’s apartment smells like garlic and fire-roasted tomatoes. The open kitchen has pots bubbling, fresh pasta on the stove, grilled salmon resting under foil, and handmade sourdough cooling near the window.

“Babe,” Sasha moans dramatically, already munching on a parmesan crisp, “You’re not just a chef. You’re an artist.”

Nicólo smirks, tossing a dish towel over his shoulder. “And yet you still tried to eat before I plated it.”

Connie flops onto the couch. “She can’t help herself. She’s the hungriest hater alive.”

Jean enters the room, looking like a kicked puppy. “Y’all. She left me on seen again.”

Sasha gasps. “Still?! What did you say this time?”

“I asked if she liked sushi.” Jean flops next to Connie. “Then I asked if she liked me.”

Connie groans. “Jean. Man. No.”

“She’s not answering. Not even an emoji. Nothing.”

Sasha sips her wine. “You’re being thirsty, and it’s unattractive. I can smell the desperation.”

Jean sighs, defeated. “Why doesn’t anyone love me?”

Nicólo brings over plates of food, expertly laid out. “Because you’re doing too much and she doesn’t know you like that.” He sets down a salmon and mushroom risotto in front of Connie.

Sasha forks a fat bite of risotto into her mouth, eyeing Connie over her wine glass. “Okay, but what about you, loverboy? You ever text that girl from the club? Y/N?”

Connie shrugs, twirling his fork. “I mean… kinda.”

Jean perks up like a dog hearing a treat bag crinkle. “Kinda?!”

Connie avoids eye contact. “She has my number. I got hers.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sasha leans in, suddenly grinning like a cat. “Run it back. Y’all exchanged numbers?”

Jean snorts. “Not even. It was me that started it. Remember when I was crying over Daria ghosting me?”

“Pick a day,” Sasha mumbles.

Jean ignores her. “I asked Connie to ask Y/N why Daria is playing with me, ‘cause Y/N left me on seen when I asked for Darias number. I didn’t have Daria’s number but Ony gave me Y/N’s so I could guide her to the club last week. I figured she could help, right?”

Sasha’s eyes go wide. “So you used Connie as a middleman… and now he has her number?”

Connie leans back smugly, arms stretched across the couch. “That’s how God works, baby.”

“You text her or not?” Sasha prods, pointing a parmesan crisp at him like a sword.

“Technically…” Connie starts slow, “we texted. Once.”

Jean scoffs. “And?? What did she say?”

Connie shrugs again. “I asked her why they playing you. She said she can’t force Daria nor can you… and I quote… ‘he is just too thirsty.’”

Jean looks like he just got hit with a water balloon. “Too thirsty?! I’m hydrated with love!”

Sasha bursts out laughing, nearly choking on her wine. “Nah, baby, you’re dehydrated with delusion.”

Jean groans, face in his hands. “This is why I can’t win.”

Sasha slaps the table. “Okay, okay, back to the real tea. Connie, this is your shot! Text her again.”

Jean immediately perks up. “Yes! Let’s brainstorm. Ooh. What if you say, ‘You popped into my head, hope you’re staying hydrated 😉’”

Sasha gasps. “Or ‘The only thing thirstier than Jean is me when I think about you.’ Boom!”

Connie looks horrified. “Y’all want me to go to jail.”

Sasha waves her hand. “Okay, okay, something simple then. What about a selfie? Show off that fresh fade.”

Jean nods. “Yeah, you’re hotter than you act. Use it.”

Nicólo walks over with a bottle of wine and a raised brow. “Jesus Christ, it’s like watching two raccoons coach a squirrel.”

Sasha grins at him. “Okay, Chef Romeo. You got a better idea?”

Nicólo gives Connie a dry look, setting the wine down like he’s about to break up a street fight. “Listen. If you actually want a shot, stop making it about him” he jabs a thumb at Jean, who looks deeply offended mid-spoonful of risotto, “and make it about her. Something clean. Chill. Just… be a normal human being.”

Connie blinks. “Bro. I am a normal human being.”

“Debatable,” Nicólo mutters, pouring himself a glass.

Jean leans in, elbows on knees. “Okay, so what should he say then, Mr. Romantic?”

Sasha smirks, ready for the drama. “Yeah, impress us, Italian stallion.”

Nicólo doesn’t miss a beat. “Say something that opens a door. Nothing cheesy, nothing try-hard. Something like ‘Hey, I just realized we never got to finish our talk without Jean and Daria in the mix. Hope we could continue it.’ That’s it. Then shut up.”

Sasha lets out a low whistle. “Okay, that was genial.”

Connie exhales, picks up his phone, and opens the thread again. Y/N’s name stares back at him, crisp and already saved, like a dare.

Everyone’s watching.

Sasha’s eyes are wide, fork frozen mid-air. Jean’s leaning so close Connie shoves his face away. Nicólo stands with arms folded like a coach watching a free throw.

Connie slowly types:

“Realized we never got to finish our talk outside Jean’s and Daria’s drama. Hope we could continue it, someday.”

He hovers over the send button.

Jean’s bouncing on the couch. “SEND IT, ROMEO.”

Sasha nods like she’s at a poetry slam. “Mmm. That’s subtle. That’s grown.”

Connie hits send.

Delivered.

Silence.

They all sit back, breath held like it’s game seven.

Connie finally sighs. “Y’all act like I just proposed.”

Sasha grabs her wine. “No, baby. You just opened the book.”

Nicólo raises his glass. “Now let’s see if she turns the page.”

fun facts🏀🏀:

• Jasmine and Ony are almost every second day at Onys parents place

• Jean is getting delulu😃

• Nicólo is a real romantic my girl Sasha has it GOOOOD🫦

[got-a-new-recipe-for-poundcake]

I just watched a Christmas Story so I wrote this. Happy holidays :)

A Bully Christmas Story:

A fic based on the flick pole scene but it's Gary

“Come on Petey you’ll be fine,” Gary grinned, while Petey shook his head rapidly. 

“I’m not doing it Gary,”

“Come on, don't be such a girl.”

“What's going on here?” Jimmy asked, approaching the two of them. 

“Nothing, just that femme boy over here is being wimp,” Gary responded, clapping Petey hard on the shoulder. 

“He’s trying to make me lick that pole, but I don't wanna get stuck,” Petey answered. 

“You're not gonna get stuck,” Gary said, brushing it off.

“Oh yeah, well why don't you try it Gary,” Petey retorted, a bit nervous but standing his ground. 

“Um well,” Gary gulped, short of a snide remark.

“Yeah come on Gary do it, after all if Petey can handle it surely you can,” Jimmy grinned, crossing his arms. By this point a small crowd had formed around the trio, which seemed to make Gary even more nervous. 

“Alright fine,” Gary snapped, stomping through the snow over to the poll which was about 10 feet away from Jimmy and Petey. Gary stuck his tongue out, and then flinched back when he got close to the flagpole. 

“Come on Gary, it's perfectly safe,” Jimmy taunted, which caused giggles from the crowd. No way in hell would Gary let these morons laugh at him. In a move of bold stupidity, Gary stuck his tongue against the cold metal. This wasn’t too bad. A smirk began to appear on Gary’s face, but as he tried to pull back, his smirk quickly faded. 

“Shit,” Gary muttered, but it came out as ‘thit’. 

“What’s wrong Gary I thought you said it was harmless,” Jimmy smirked as the crowd laughed. 

“Ok, ok I gut it, jus helpt ne mowon” Gary grumbled. Just then the bell rang. 

“Sorry Gary, I gotta get to class,” Jimmy shouted, as he ran off. Gary yelled a long string of profanities after him, and the rest of the crowd cleared except Petey. 

“Peey come on you can hulp me,” Gary pleaded. 

“Sorry Gary, but I have to go,”He responded before running off. 

—

Mr. Hattrick was taking attendance when he noticed something odd,  Gary Smith wasn't causing a scene? Puzzled, he decided to ask the class. 

“Has anyone seen a Mr. Gary Smith?” Everyone looked in different directions besides Hattrick, and out the classroom window. 

Hattrick frowned at this. “I said, has anyone seen Gary Smith?”

“Mr. Hattrick?” Hattrick turned towards the doorway to see that twerp Sheldon. 

“Yes?” 

“You might wanna come see this.” Sheldon gulped. Hattrick sighed as he headed out of the classroom. 

The class rushed to the window to see what was going to happen. Gary was still out there in the snow, his tongue stuck to the poll, trying as best he could to free himself.  

“Holy cow it’s all the prefects,” Pedro gasped “Oh wow Dr. Crabblesnitch!”  Sure enough all the prefects, and Crabblesnitch were gathered around Gary. Finally Nurse McRae came with some warm water, freeing Gary, who’s pulling had caused him to bleed a bit. 

After a while, Gary walked into the classroom, tongue bandaged, and looking very embarrassed and annoyed. The class snickered, as Mr. Hattrick walked back up to the front of the room. 

“Now let’s get to your math homework.”

[duskodair]

haven't figured out fully what I think about doctor who last night but there are things I keep thinking about.

I have a lot of thoughts on autonomy, what with Rylan standing with an earpiece waiting to be told what to do (because he's been in cryogenic stasis and doesn't know what's going on), and the audience not thinking to clap until Gary (?) starts it. a lot of the background characters don't seem to know what to think until they are told what to think.

this becomes interesting when paired with the narrative of the poppy honey corporation rewriting the narrative of the genocide of hellia, as we have a lot of characters who just parrot things that they've been told about it without actually forming their own opinions. we see this in the guy who helped write Coral's song, and Win's boss, who gave Win 'a chance' despite the stigma around hellions.

pairing these two points with media block out and voicelessness is interesting as the episode establishes that nobody in the arena can call for help due to gambling blockout. the only official voice that can convey events is the official broadcast. there can be no counterargument to the official run of events until the event is over.

Kid attempts to weaponise this voicelessness by setting the dress rehearsal to run, covering up what is happening in a way that parallels what happened to Hellia (down to the part where the sponsor is the same).

Win is seen as trapped in this voicelessness, where their presence at the event is seen as 'taking a chance'. They do use this voicelessness to their advantage as they secretly save Coral and keep it from Kid, later revealing that their actions are down to a sense of betrayal that Coral got out and got a voice but still isn't speaking for them.

Coral is only able to speak when she is allowed. Hellia is not allowed a song. The song contest has to be restructured in order for her to break out of that voicelessness (painfully ironic to compare to actual Eurovision, who edited out and apologised for a Swedish-Palestinian singer daring to wrap a piece of his own national costume around his wrist as he sang).

Coral doesn't sing in English and the TARDIS doesn't translate it, which can be argued to further this voicelessness. She is speaking truth but we are not allowed to hear it.

Violence is brushed over, as whilst we have mentions of massive death on Hellia ('its the kind of name where your parents are killed before being able to name you'), the violence we are shown is burning poppy fields, implying that the poppies are more valuable than Hellion lives.

I would have loved more time focusing on the stories of each of the three Hellions we meet. They all know each other and went different ways in life. The episode would have been strengthened if it took the time to explore Coral's forced assimilation and how she got to where she is. It would have been strengthened if it explored how Win got where they did fighting the stigma of their species until it got too much and they moved their hope to Kid and not Coral. It would have been strengthened if they had fleshed out Kid a bit more and explored his life.

With a story of this magnitude, I don't think there was room to explore the Doctor's absolute mess of a self alongside the absolute mess of a situation they were in, or if they did, Belinda needed to be given more information about Hellia and the Hellions to react with, and to play a bigger part in forcing the narrative to listen to Coral.

I think the episode fell short and was unclear in it's argument (it does amuse me that I'm saying this considering my first point was all the characters waiting to be told what to think and do). I think focusing on voicelessness and who has the power to grant a voice would have been a more interesting topic for the episode to explore.

But I don't know. It was certainly a thought provoking episode, although perhaps not in the ways the writers may have hoped.

[litgwritersroom]

PLEASE! PLEASE! Hear me out!

Please write a scenario about how Lewie met MC in one of his games but didn't get a chance to ask her name after his game because he lost her in the crowd or something. Then he finally met her again at the villa. Cause that sweet golden retriever boy fell in love with Mc the moment he saw her in the villa, and he is like all in on her already??? Like how is that possible??! 

Thank youuu🤍✨🥺

SHOOT YOUR SHOT

Lewie / OC - 4100+ words - @mrsbsmooth

She was screaming his name, but he lost her in the crowd. He's not letting her disappear again.

Lewie jumped up and down on the spot with the other guys in the tunnel, waiting to run onto the pitch. He was first. He was always first. He was the bloody captain, he had to be first. Project confidence. Project leadership. Cool, calm, collected.

But he was nervous today.

If they won today, they’d go up to League One. He’d triple his salary, minimum, probably quadruple it if Terry kept him on as captain. He’d be able to pay off his parents’ house in three months. His life would change if they won today. 

Mac clapped him on the back. “Good?”

“Mostly,” Lewie responded, swallowing hard. 

“Ahh, none of that,” Mac grinned. “S’just a game, innit?”

Lewie wished he could laugh at it. He stretched his neck as the doors opened. He took the hand of the player escort kid next to him who looked almost as nervous as he did. 

Game time.

Cup finals were always packed, but Lewie had never heard a roar like the one he heard as he stepped onto the pitch that day. It was a wall of sound, almost making him flinch as he dropped the kid’s hand, gave him a high five, and took his position.

Lewie was breathing as steadily as he could, but he couldn’t shake the nerves from his shoulders. It felt like a noose had tied itself around him. What if they lost? What if they didn’t get promoted? How many more years did he have in this league? He was already 24. If he didn’t go up this year, his chances of ever going higher were starting to get slim. He’d never pay off his parents’ house. He’d never provide for his nieces and nephew. 

The stands were a sea of red. He tried to focus on the green beneath his feet. But his eye was caught by a flash of white amongst the red. 

“Lewie! Lewie! Hey! Over here!”

A big group of girls, head to toe in white, chanting and screaming and clearly drinking. They were right behind the goal. But as soon as they realised they had his attention, they began squealing. 

And then, he saw the sign. 

A huge piece of cardboard. Two words. 

An arrow pointing to its holder. 

MRS PRITCHARD

Lewie laughed, almost throwing his head back as he beamed at the girls. They started jumping up and down, screaming with excitement that he’d seen them. He was too far away to see them up close. He just turned his attention back to the pitch, still laughing. The whistle blew. The crowd screamed. The match began. And honestly?

He was feeling a bit better. 

The match started the way all matches do. Slowly. Sussing each other out, no-one wiling to give away their game plan too quickly. He focused on the game with every shred of brainpower he had, and he was having a bit of a blinder, if he did say so himself. He barely missed a thing, ending up right where he needed to be as his team edged closer and closer to the box. 

Levi passed him the ball, and Lewie beat three defenders to get it to Mac, but as Mac took the shot, the ball bounced off the crossbar. The crowd groaned, and the team in blue took possession. Gary forced them over the sideline, and Lewie sprinted back to position. But play had stopped. One of the opposing players was stalling, pretending Gary had kicked him. 

“Lewwwwwie! Lewwwwwie!” 

He chuckled, rolling his eyes. He was a little closer to where the girls had been. He placed his hands on his hips, to catch his breath, glancing over at them again, and once more, they screamed. Mrs Pritchard held up her sign again. 

But this time, he could see the girl holding it.

And he did a fucking double take. 

He was still a ways away, but even from this distance, he felt his eyebrows shooting up. 

Soft, dark waves, a bit of a tan but a lot of a smile, the enormous, excited grin drawing a smile from him, too. White trousers so tight they looked like leggings, and their team’s white away jersey tied into a crop at the front. She must have been freezing, but she looked like she was keeping herself plenty warm by jumping up and down as she beamed at him. 

Damn.

“I love you, Lewie!” she screamed, sending a chuckle through the dozens of fans around her. He took a deep breath, and laughed it off, shooting her an amused smile. 

Play resumed. Unfortunately, most of it was down the other end of the field. But now, he had even more reason to get the ball up to his team’s end. 

Every time he even came close to the group of girls, they erupted into a wall of noise, and not just for him. They were almost louder than the rest of the crowd combined, and when Lewie bent the ball right into Mac’s boot, they screamed so loud he was sure their voices would give out. But Mac missed again.

Fuck. Nil-all at half time.

The team made their way into the locker rooms. Lewie laughed off all the comments from his teammates about what the hell was going on. He honestly had no idea who these girls were or why they’d suddenly decided to show up to scream for the team, but he wasn’t complaining, and neither was anyone else. 

“D’you see the sign?” Gary laughed.

“Yeah,” Lewie shook his head, sighing. 

“Did you see the stunner holding it?” Levi flicked an eyebrow.

The locked room fell silent. Lewie sighed even harder. “Yes, I did.”

Wa-heyyys echoed off the walls, and Lewie, one more time, shook his head. He glanced over at Mac, but he wasn’t paying attention. He was taking deep breaths, focusing. 

“Hey,” Lewie said, sitting next to him. “You good?”

Mac grunted with annoyance, relacing his boots for the second time.

Lewie sighed. “It’s only half time.”

“And I’ve already missed twice.”

“Yeah, and you can miss five more times, as long as we hold them to zero as well. This game doesn’t rest on your shoulders, mate. If it did, Terry would’ve taken you out already.”

Mac furrowed his brow. 

“I mean you have missed twice already,” Lewie teased. “It’s a big goal. Just kick it in?”

Mac huffed a laugh, elbowing him hard in the arm. “Fuck off.”

Lewie lowered his voice, smiling reassuringly at his best mate. “Get out of your head. It’s just a game, remember?”

Mac nodded, taking a deep breath and giving him a brief smile of thanks. “So you really don’t know those girls?” Mac asked, shifting the focus off himself.

“No,” Lewie said, shaking his head. “Never seen a single one of them before.”

Mac’s mouth curled into a smirk. “Bet you might be seeing one of ‘em after, though?”

Lewie rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hide his smile. “I mean, she’s really shooting her shot.”

“With a fuckin’ Gatlin Gun. She’s comin’ on strong.”

Lewie laughed loudly. “Since when is that a bad thing?”

It wasn’t a question that needed an answer. The hint of a smirk on Mac’s face was now in full swing. Lewie didn’t mind a girl who went after what she wanted. He didn’t mind that at all. 

“So you’re gonna go for it?”

Lewie shrugged. “I mean, she likes footie, she’s pretty, and she’s got a big sign saying ‘I’m interested’. It can’t hurt to get her number?”

The second half started, and Lewie frowned as he looked towards what was now the opposing team’s goal. The girls would be all the way up the other–

“Lewie! Over here babe!”

They’d moved. 

He didn’t know how they’d managed, but they’d moved. The entire group of them were now at the other end of the pitch, behind the swapped goal ends. He smiled, shooting the pretty brunette a small wave, and she pretended to swoon and faint into her friend’s arms. 

He belly laughed at that one.

The match resumed, and if he’d thought they were playing well before, the second half had the team electrified. Lewie and Mac passed the ball back and forth without even looking, falling into muscle-memory and pure instincts as they did what they’d done since they were seven. Back, forward, time it right, bit of feigning, more than a bit of fancy footwork, and with every possession, they edged closer down to their end. 

Sixtieth minute, then seventieth, then eightieth. Nil-all. Lewie passed the ball to Kobi, who headed it to Mac– Intercepted. A bad pass, but not the end of the world. The ball went out, leaving the Reds with a corner. The others set up. Lewie moved backwards. 

But first, another time-wasting injury meant to kill their momentum. 

It was a tactic from the opposing team. It was meant to lower their adrenaline levels and catch them slow. The waterboy ran onto the field, tossing him a bottle. Lewie took a big gulp of gatorade, swishing it around his mouth. He needed to keep his adrenaline levels up. He–

“Hey Lewie!” a familiar voice called. 

He looked up. His brunette beauty’s arms were in front of her. 

Her shirt wasn’t. 

She was lifting it. She’d tucked her fingers under her bra, and flipped the whole thing up. 

She was flashing him. And she was not being shy about it.

He spat gatorade all over the pitch. 

Her rather fucking magnificent breasts were fully on display, and the crowd erupted with cheers, but no sooner had she done it, her friends were squealing with laughter and tugging her shirt down to cover her, but they weren’t quick enough. His eyes fell across her body, to the stunningly intricate tattoo painted across her ribcage. 

A red Welsh dragon.

Lewie could hardly breathe, coughing and spluttering gatorade as he tried very hard to remain cool, calm, and collected. But it was a bit hard to look any of the three when he could already feel himself furiously blushing. 

The other guys on the pitch were laughing their arses off at him, and he couldn’t help but join in. He’d never had attention like this before. He’d never been so ferociously and aggressively hit on, especially not while he was on the bloody pitch. 

He did not mind one fucking bit. 

She pulled her shirt down, and as she adjusted herself, her eyes didn’t leave his. She raised her eyebrows. And even though they were still a dozen metres apart, he could almost hear it in his ear. 

Your move.

He held her gaze for a second, smiling in disbelief and shaking his head with a laugh. That was definitely the adrenaline rush he needed. He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, still blushing furiously, and she beamed at how flustered he was. 

But before he could do anything, his attention was drawn by the referee’s whistle calling the game back into action. Lewie shot her a wink as he reluctantly jogged back to position. He was definitely getting her number after the game. 

But he never got a chance. 

Things suddenly picked up pace, and he didn’t have an opportunity to look back in her direction. He could hear screaming and yelling, but he was down the other end of the pitch, defending his heart out as the other team got close to scoring twice in seven minutes. But they held them off.

It was the eighty-fourth minute.

The lads bent over, their hands on their knees, puffing and panting as if they’d just run a marathon. 

It was a sign. It was time.

They got possession, and Lewie called the code they’d practiced for months. They’d pretend to be exhausted. To be slow, and late, and unfit. Let the other team think that this was everything they had to give. Lull them into a false sense of security. 

With seemingly no warning, a red jersey and a sharp undercut went sprinting at breakneck speed down the pitch. The defenders fell for it and gave chase, sprinting after Levi as he took the ball as fast as he could down the field. 

They barely paid attention to Lewie moving out wide to the left flank. 

Levi to Kobi. Kobi to Levi. Levi to Kobi. Kobi to Mac. Mac to Levi. Levi to Mac to Kobi to Mac. The defenders were focused. Completely focused. Lewie came sprinting up the left of the box, holding level to stay onside–

Mac to Lewie. 

The ball was in the goal before the defenders even looked in his direction. 

The crowd exploded, no one more than Mac, who took a running leap into the air to tackle Lewie to the ground. The guys screamed and yelled in his ear, celebrating along with the shaking grandstands. 12,000 people chanting his name. It was like something out of a daydream. Something he’d pretended and practiced as he ran drills in his backyard. 

‘Pritchard! Pritchard may have just taken them to promotion!’

He should’ve looked for Mum. Or Dad. Nana or Izzie or Josie or Teagan. His mates were here. His bloody under-10’s coach was probably here. But his gaze drifted back over to the area right behind the goal where the group of girls in white had been. Call it curiosity about what she’d do. If she’d flashed him over a decent pass–

She was gone. 

He furrowed his brow as he looked at the part of the stands that had previously held the pretty brunette and all her friends, but they were gone. Completely vanished, all of them, the only evidence they’d ever been there was a white feather boa flung over the back of one of the chairs. Lewie shook it off. Maybe they’d gone to get drinks?

But there were only ten minutes left in the match. 

Mac scored again, and Lewie looked around to see if he could see any of the girls in white, but all he saw was that same sea of red. 

The final whistle blew: 2-0. 

They were going up. Their team had been promoted.

The grandstands erupted even louder than they had for the goals. The air itself was shaking with noise. Lewie was so caught up in hugging his teammates that he barely realised fans had  started streaming onto the pitch. 

He was passed around between lifelong supporters he’d already come to know, and many he hadn’t. His shirt was grabbed, his back patted, his hair ruffled and his arms locked to his sides as he was picked up ad squeezed with surprising force. A beer was pushed into his hand, and he threw it back without a slight hesitation. He was so wrapped up in their victory that he almost forgot to keep an eye out for a group of girls in white. 

Almost.

He wasn’t the tallest on the pitch, but he was taller than most, but he still couldn’t see them.

He answered questions for the local paper, he posed for photos, he accepted the cup on behalf of the team and made the heartfelt, grateful speech he never thought he’d get to give, but he didn’t stop looking. 

She wasn’t there. Neither were her friends.

It made no sense.

He couldn’t wrap his head around why she’d do all that and just leave. 

But, as the confetti settled, the music started to wane, and the celebrations spilled into the locker room, Lewie realised. 

She had. 

She’d just left. 

It took him a while to get over it. Like, way longer than it should’ve. 

The guys made fun of him for it, obviously. “Way to Lewie’s heart is to ask him to marry you, then flash him your tits’. They were wrong– of course they were, that would’ve been insane. 

There had just been something about her. 

It wasn’t that he wanted to date a girl who regularly flash an entire stadium, but there was something about the confidence something like that would need. A risk taker. A joker. Up for a laugh and down for a dare. Someone who made a point of having fun with her friends. Someone who liked footie. Someone who wasn’t afraid to scream his name, to show up to his games and let everyone know she was there for him.

He’d never realised how attractive that was to him.

In fact, he kind of couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He tried asking the ticketing office about them, but one of the girls had shown up in person three weeks before and paid for the seats in cash. There was no name attached. None of the guys recognised them either, so they must’ve been from out of town. How they ended up in Northern Wales for a football match at a bachelorette party was both beyond him, and devastating that he might never get to even find out her name. 

He’d been lying in bed one night when he suddenly figured it out.

The next morning, he’d dropped by the security office before training. It’d been weeks, but he was sure they’d remember her. He was sure that was why. It had to be why. 

The Security team had, in fact, kicked Mrs. Pritchard and her entire friend group out of the stadium, but they’d just handed the girls over to the police. They hadn’t taken names. Lewie had nodded, and wrote down the number of the officer that took them in. 

But he’d never gotten the chance. 

Mac had walked past and seen him waiting in the freezing cold for the Security team to arrive, and he immediately staged an intervention. And that intervention involved the entire team making it their business to set him up on dates. 

Normally, he didn’t mind dating. Even if he didn’t have a connection with the girl, he’d enjoy taking them out for dinner, getting to know them, asking them about themselves– it was nice. 

But now, there was a question mark over it.

Would this be the type of girl who’d come to his games and scream his name? The kind of girl who’d shoot her shot in front of all her friends and 12,000 strangers? Did the girl across the table from him have that kind of confidence?

And for every girl his mates set him up with, the answer was no. 

It was a year later his mates told him what they’d done.

He didn’t think about her as often any more. He’d been on a few nice dates since. 

But he still thought about her.

He’d kept his searching low-key. He didn’t have much of a social media presence, and for once, he almost regretted not having one. One Instagram DM from one of her friends girls could’ve solved the mystery for him. But even after he set up a profile, that DM never came. He wasn’t one for dating apps, but he’d kicked himself a few months later when he’d realised he might’ve been able to swipe right on her if he’d set one up that day. 

But he didn’t think about her as much any more.

The day his phone rang, he’d thought it was a prank. ITV calling him to bring him in for an interview for Love Island. He hadn’t even applied– which surprised them, because they apparently had a long and very detailed application form, with many, many pictures of him shirtless in the locker rooms at training. Fucking Mac. 

Terry thought it’d be a good idea. Good promo for his personal brand. Good publicity for the club. Levi threw a fit. He’d wanted to go on Love Island for years, and Terry had always said no. 

“Yeah, but Lewie’s not gonna put our entire Public Relations team on stress leave,” Terry had said. The guys had all laughed. 

Mac grinned with his hands behind his head. “Nah, he’s just gonna get on TV so that he can subtly communicate his beloved flasher he’s willing to put a ring on it.”

Lewie huffed.

The guys laughed a lot harder at that. 

So, two months after that, he stood just inside the Majorca villa with three other guys, waiting to go and pick a girl out of a lineup as if they were picking footy teams at lunch in primary. He was glad to be the one picking. Because this time, he wasn’t the only 8-year-old who could do a scorpion kick. If there was a scorpion-kick equivalent in dating, he didn’t know what it was, and he definitely didn’t know how to do it. 

He just knew footie. 

It wasn’t in his nature to go after a girl unless he knew for sure she was interested. He knew footie, but he didn’t know dating. Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to Mrs Pritchard. He’d never even met her and he’d known where he stood.

His phone chimed, and his eyes widened. He was going first.

He took a step forward, placing his hand on the door handle, trying to breathe. The likelihood of one of them holding up a sign for him saying ‘I’m interested’ seemed a lot less likely here than–

Than…

The villa door opened, and suddenly, he was in the league final all over again. He knew that in the memory, there was 12,000 people screaming his name. Screaming for his team. 

But all he could see was her. Caramel waves. Tan skin. A smile wide enough to take down a grandstand. 

A red Welsh dragon painted across her ribcage. 

He stopped at the top of the stairs, his mouth falling open in sync with hers. But instead of screaming and jumping up and down, she furiously blushed and dropped her eyes. Lewie made his way over to stand beside the host, smiling politely at the other girls, but there was no need to make small talk. 

“So, ladies, this is Lewie. 24, Football captain from Wales. Lewie, let me introd–”

“No need,” he smiled. “I already know who I’m picking.”

There was an interested smattering of whispers, but he walked forward. 

The stunning brunette was blushing something awful, and she didn’t look up at him until he was standing right in front of her. 

“Hi,” he said.

She looked up, meeting his eyes, and smiled sheepishly. 

“I didn’t think you’d remember me.” 

“Bit hard to forget someone I’ve barely stopped thinking about, Mrs. Pritchard.”

Her breath caught, but he didn’t take his eyes off her. That pink dusted across her cheeks was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. The most beautiful orchid-pink, painting her like watercolours across her cheeks and the tip of her nose, and it was him that put it there. He suddenly kind of understood how she’d had the confidence to shoot her shot like she had.

Lewie reached for her hand and she gave it to him. He linked their fingers together. 

“Can I pick you?” he asked. 

“Yes, please,” she grinned. 

“Well, then, you’re gonna have to tell me your name.”

She smiled. “Bree. My name is Bree.”

“I’m Lewie.”

“I know.”

Lewie turned back to the host, smiling widely. “I’m picking Bree.”

Bree smiled so widely that he wondered if she might break. The urge to just pick her up and kiss her was one he had to push down. It would’ve been way too forward, and he probably would’ve come on way too strong. Going all in for a girl fifteen minutes into filming beginning was the stupidest strategic move he could possibly make.

The other girls cooed as he stood beside her, waiting for the next guy to come out, and one by one, they paired off with the other girls, until finally, the host said goodbye. 

Bree immediately turned to him. 

“I saw you, by the way,” she whispered.

He furrowed his brow. 

“Your goal. I saw you score it. And I saw you look for me. I was being dragged out by security at the time, but I always wished I could've told you that I saw it.”

He studied her face for a moment, watching the sparkle in her eyes; the light catch in her hair, the way it had that chilly May afternoon. The urge to kiss her was back. The urge to pull her into his arms and wrap her up in them and not let her out of his fucking sight ever again. He wished he was bold enough. He wished he had the confidence she’d had. He just… He…

Fuck it. 

Lewie captured her chin in his hand, and in one swift movement, he’d pressed his lips to hers. There were excited laughs, and knew the eyes of the entire villa were on him, but he didn’t care. 

Because Bree was kissing him back.

She threw her hand around the back of his neck, splaying her fingers on the back of his head, deepening the kiss as she pulled herself into his chest. Leaning over the top of her, she fit him perfectly, like he’d kind of always known she would. 

He’d found her. He’d finally found her.

He wasn’t letting her go again.

[boneskullravenriver]

Watched voyage home and I very much enjoyed it. So much better than the other few times they time traveled (off the time of my head I'm thinking the one tos ep with the Gary seven guy).

Some of my favorite humorous bits:

Kirk and Spock getting kicked off the bus for not having coins

"is that a lot?" In response to getting $100 (maybe in 1986 it was but definitely not if you were in 2024 if you're trying to split it between so many people 🤣)

The trash guys freaking the hell out when the crew popped out of seemingly thin air.

Chekov screaming at the cop... And passerbys for the "nuclear vessels in Alameda" and looking suspicious as hell.

The whole bus full of people clapping after Spock Vulcan pinches the punk guy.

The words "double dumbass on you" coming out of Spock's mouth with a straight face that nearly made me choke on the soda I was drinking to the point where it send me into a coughing fit.

Spock being confused as hell about "metaphors" and repeating them back at the most inappropriate times.

Him blurting out that the whale was pregnant out of nowhere

Bones trying to have a heart to heart with Spock only for Spock to look at him like ????

"computer? Computer? Hello, computer ? :D"

(proceeds to peck at the keyboard)