#i'm sure i'm missing things. this will be a living document though!

[nectaric]

renee's cheat sheet to shipping with her muses:

bold is preferred ships. italicized are ships that require plotting. strikethrough are ships i do not enjoy. no formatting are things i simply enjoy.

greek mythology:

ares (bisexual): aphrodite. dionysus. athena. open to others. artemis (asexual): closed to shipping. athena (homosexual): pallas. nike. medusa. open to women. atlas (asexual): poseidon. selectively open to others. demeter (bisexual): hestia. hades. poseidon. zeus. open to others. eros (bisexual): psyche. ganymede. open to others. hades (bisexual): persephone. thanatos. demeter. minthe. open to others. hebe (bisexual): open to anyone. hephaestus (bisexual): aglaia. aphrodite. open to others. hera (bisexual): zeus. metis. semele. not open to others. hermes (bisexual): peitho. apollo. open to others. makaria (bisexual): hermes. open to others. momus (bisexual): hermes. hecate. open to others. nike (homosexual): athena. open to others. oizys (bisexual): open to anyone. philotes (bisexual): open to anyone. poseidon (bisexual): amphitrite. nerites. hecate. open to others. zeus (bisexual): hera. semele. metis. leto. ganymede. canonical lovers of zeus. poseidon. open to others.

percy jackson and the olympians:

bianca di angelo (heterosexual): requires plotting. frank zhang (bisexual): hazel. jason. leo. requires plotting for others.

rwby:

clover ebi (homosexual): qrow branwen. james ironwood. open to men. ghira belladonna (heterosexual): kali belladonna. closed to others. hazel rainart (bisexual): arthur watts. tyrian callows. james ironwood. open to others. mercury black (bisexual): emerald sustrai. roman torchwick. neopolitan. team rwby. open to others, primarily men. penny polendina (asexual): ruby rose. open to women. taiyang xiao long (bisexual): qrow branwen. james ironwood. summer rose. open to others.

star wars:

obi-wan kenobi (bisexual): commander cody. satine kryze. anakin skywalker. open to others. rex (bisexual): open to plotting. leia organa (undecided): han solo. open to plotting. wooley (bisexual): open to plotting. waxer (homosexual): open to plotting.

the stormlight archive:

elhokar kholin (homosexual): open to men. kaladin stormblessed (bisexual): adolin kholin. open to others. navani kholin (undetermined): dalinar kholin. open to plotting. renarin kholin (homosexual): rlain. open to men.

tolkienverse:

thorin oakenshield (homosexual): bilbo baggins. open to others. bifur (heterosexual): open to plotting.

[abbotsanatomy]

Jack x reader

Possessive & Protective Jack. Reader is the hospital social worker. Jack finds out a grieving family member has been stalking and harassing reader.!

⨳ (I’LL BE WATCHING YOU)

pairing: jack abbot x social worker!reader warnings: age gap (28, and 49), depictions of stalking, grief, child death, epilepsy (seizures), verbal assault, physical assault. author's note: this was a rough one to write tbh! hope u like! title’s totally inspired by ‘every breath you take,’ i love double meanings lol

“Good morning!” you greet, strolling into the ER break room.

You set aside the coffees you bought for everyone. It's your turn to bring everyone their fix tonight. They're nothing fancy, as can be expected from someone who earns almost half of what everyone else around here does.

You pick one of the brown coffee cups up from the paper cupholder on the counter, “Or, Y'know. Good night?”

“Live-saver!” one of the second-year residents yells. She's quick to grab one of the coffees, too.

The few people in the break room do the same, thanking you along the way. They slowly filter out, presumably going to tell everyone the break room's stocked up again so they can get their own before it's all gone.

It's just you and Dana Evans in the small room now. She's never been one for rushing home the moment her shift's over. She always lingers, you feel like you might know her even better than the night shift's charge nurse. The affinity you have for her can also be attributed, in huge part, to the fact that the veteran charge nurse reminds you of Dr.Abbot.

“Hey, kid. I heard what happened yesterday,” she starts. “Are you good?”

Wow. Word gets around much quicker than you expected. What happened yesterday should've been less than a blip on someone like Dana's radar.

The situation in question was just a grieving parent who'd said some pretty nasty things to you. He was in shock. You understand. You have to; it's your job.

His anger was justified. You were partially responsible for him missing his kid's last few moments. The memories kept you up all day.

The girl was barely two. When they came in, she was having an epileptic seizure that wouldn't go away. Upon further investigation, the doctors, with a neuro consult, told her father there was a surgery that could reduce her seizures. He'd heard about it before, but he was skeptical.

Apparently, having had his seizing daughter in his arms, unable to do anything but wait for an ambulance changed his mind.

There was one minor problem, though. Before they could get his daughter prepped for surgery, the hospital needed his insurance documents. She was stable; this wasn't emergency surgery. So the financial aspect was, unfortunately, a priority.

“Her mother's out of town. It's just me. I can't leave her alone,” he'd told you.

“Well, she still needs to be monitored for a while. And I understand you want the surgery immediately,” you'd reasoned with him. “Maybe you can make it home and back quickly, before she wakes up.”

He was hesitant at first, but you were determined. You'd help where you can.

“I'll be with her the whole time. I promise. Our doctors will do the best they can to make sure she's comfortable and safe.”

Safe. What a stupid word to use. She wasn't safe when he came back. She was dead.

She'd had another seizure minutes after he left. The entire medical team tried their best, you know that. You were there, holding her hand through it all. Begging her to stay strong for her dad.

When he came back, he was held back by security as he shouted all kinds of evil truths at you.

“You bitch.”

“You all killed her.”

“I could've been here if it wasn't for you!”

It was all true.

His words have replayed in your mind ever since. So, no, you aren't good. But there's nothing a charge nurse you're sure has been through worse can do about it, so you won't tell her.

“Mhm, I'm fine. Don't worry about me,” you lie, straight to her face.

You have a feeling she doesn't believe you, but she's also smart enough to recognize when someone doesn't want to talk about something. So, she drops it.

“Alright. Be kind to yourself, okay? Take some time off if you need it,” she advises, and you trust her judgement. It isn't like you'll listen to her, though.

“Okay. I'll try.”

Dana walks out of the break room, but not before giving you a long hug. On a good day, you'd be soaring with happiness. Today, it makes you feel just slightly better.

You're mid-sip when your favorite attending walks in. Jack looks shocked to see you. He'd given you the exact same advice Dana just did. You'd obviously not taken it.

He walks towards the counter you're leaning against. You feel like he's about to tell you off. He just stands there for a long moment. Then, he's searching your face for something. A sign of distress, maybe?

He doesn't find whatever it is he's looking for. You smile at how ridiculous this staring habit of his is.

“Are you good?” he parrots Dana.

Your brows crease, “Have you and Nurse Evans been talking about me?”

Jack looks confused.

“I'm fine. I'm great, even. Okay?” you demand.

He nods, but it's very hesitant.

“I have a shrink. I'm seeing her after work. You don't have to worry about me,” you reiterate.

Everything he could say was said yesterday. He reassured you for thirty minutes after, brought you water and food in between patients. There's nothing more he can say right now.

He just grabs one of the coffees you brought, “Thank you.”

His tone's a little too sincere for what this is. You'll take it.

You both exit the break room and part ways to get on with your shifts. His eyes are front and center in your mind the entire time, especially when you need some comfort.

You've been on edge lately. You're flinching at things you aren't supposed to. You close your curtains whenever you're home alone. You just can't shake this feeling that you're being watched.

The 90$-an-hour therapist you visit once a month says it's a symptom of your PTSD. That's of no consequence, because the anxiety feels as real as can be. Your nerves are fried all the time.

You need a break. There's one person in particular you want to spend your time off with. He's been invited to your apartment for dinner tonight. Thankfully, Jack hasn’t embarrassed you by rejecting your invitation.

He's just texted you that he's on his way now. You're in the kitchen with your cooking playlist playing in the background. It's the kind of mellow moment you haven't experienced in weeks. You're bringing the wooden mixing spoon up to your mouth to get a taste, when the moment's rudely interrupted.

Someone's pulling you back, with their arm tightly wrapped around your throat. This isn't psychosis, paranoia, or PTSD. This is real.

You try to hit back with the spoon in your hand, but it quickly clatters to the floor, splattering soup everywhere.

Your next line of defense is clawing your way out. Literally. You scratch and pull away at the stranger's arm. It's minimally effective. You're trying to scream out for help, too. It barely comes out as a squeak.

Your vision's getting blurry, when you feel someone tackle the intruder, bringing them to the floor. You can hear an altercation happening on your floor, right next to where you're coughing up a storm, just trying to catch your breath again.

Someone's landing more than a few punches, in the distance. The sound becomes much less distressing when you realize it's Jack who has the upper hand in this fight. His eyes lack the tenderness they usually have when you’re staring back at them.

“Jack...” you croak out, trying to pull him out of it.

He stops, pulling the guy under him up by the collar. That's when you realize it's the same grieving man who was shouting at you in the middle of the PTMC’s emergency room, less than a week ago.

Jack slams him against your kitchen wall, his arm pinning the man in place by the throat. On the floor, beside you, is a set of pictures. They must've fallen from the man’s pocket mid-brawl. They're all of you. At your therapist's office. At home. At work.

He's been watching you, following you. The realization fills you with dread.

You pull your phone out and dial 911 immediately.

“Are you okay?” Jack asks, his eyes still set on the man in front of him.

“Yes, I'm fine. Be gentle,” you tell him.

He shakes his head subtly. He'd be smiling a little too, if he wasn't so angry at the man in front of him. Of course, you'd want him to be gentle with the man who was about to kill you. You've always seen the best in everyone.

He can’t ever deny you a thing, so he's as gentle as he can be, with how furious he is right now.

“911, what's your emergency?” you hear on the other end.

Jack takes care of it all. Tells the officers what happened, shows them the pictures, escorts them out. All you could manage for now was a few hums in agreement to the questions the officers asked you.

Once they left, Jack came to sit beside you on the couch. Now, he’s been staring at your neck intensely. You can tell he wants to take a look.

“Do you mind?”

“Nope,” you answer, pulling your hair to the side.

His fingers are gentle on your neck, as they graze the bruise forming there.

His voice is tight, like he's still barely containing his anger, “It looks alright. It'll just be slightly bruised.”

You nod, “Thank you. For everything.”

Your hand finds his, interlocking your fingers. He brings your joined hands up to his mouth, to place a chaste kiss onto the back of your hand. You grin, and finally look up from the spot on your carpet you’d been staring at.

There's a cut on his cheek, still bleeding. You bring your other hand to rest on his cheek, pressing your mouth to the skin beside the cut.

“Let me take care of that for you,” you offer.

It's almost like he didn't even hear you, though. “You probably shouldn't go to work tomorrow.”

You nod in agreement, “Yeah, probably.

“Can you stay?” you propose, barely louder than a whisper.

You're asking because it'd make you feel safer. He can tell. He agrees, immediately.

You pull your hand away to go grab the first aid kit in your bathroom cabinet. You're also rehearsing how you're going to convince him to sleep in your bed with you, instead of the couch. He ends up being very easy to convince.

[perfectlyoongi]

CHILDHOOD-FRIEND!YOONGI who gave you his plush when you lost yours. it was exciting to start a new life just for you; after so much effort and dedication you finally got your dream job and a small house that was very easy to call home. with all your enthusiasm and rush to finally be free, the moves from your parents' house to your new one happened quickly and, between boxes and newspapers, bags and suitcases, it was inevitable to lose something — you already knew that; what you didn't know is that what was lost, among so much trinkets and unnecessary things, was the stuffed animal that watched you grow up from an early age. no matter how much you searched, no matter how much you revolutionized clothes and objects, you couldn't find your long-time companion. this new stage of your life had been cursed by the lack of your stuffed animal — everything was ruined. that is, until Yoongi shows up at your house with his own plush. “it helped me a lot when i moved out of my parents' house. and i know you miss your plush, so… it's for you. a loan until you find your stuffed animal or find something better to give me. take good care of it, okay? it's an extension of me, remember that.”

CHILDHOOD-FRIEND!YOONGI who likes to read to you. when you first slept at Yoongi's house, the night was aggressive. the wind shook the trees violently, making them hit the window in a symphony led by the heavy drops of rain. the sounds of nature were loud, very loud, and you couldn't sleep. so when you woke up Yoongi, half scared, half embarrassed, he just lay down next to you in bed with a flashlight and started reading a storybook to you until you fell asleep. since then, Yoongi has found a certain comfort in reading to you — not only did it soothe his soul and make him forget about the world, but it also helped you calm down and bring back loving memories. every now and then, when life was too much, Yoongi would read to you — over the phone or by your side, books only gained their magic when read by Yoongi. “another nightmare? i'm sorry. do you want me to come over? no, i don't mind at all. i insist. give me five minutes to get dressed and i'll be right there. i'll bring a book with me to read to you. you don't have to worry.”

CHILDHOOD-FRIEND!YOONGI who has an album full of photos from your childhood. now that Yoongi was grown up, he thanked his parents for making sure to document everything. in moments of greater nostalgia, Yoongi would grab his album and take refuge in the corner of the sofa, remembering all the laughter and memories that he would never forget. your first day at the beach where you fed a seagull. your school recital where you couldn't stop crying until Yoongi held your hand. the traditional picnic that your families used to have on summer days. when he got cake on your face for the first time. when you pushed him into a puddle of water for pulling your hair. all of these diverse memories filled the yellow pages of that book and in all of them Yoongi saw the cradle of your complicity and the garden where the seed of love was planted and began to sprout. “yesterday i was looking at the album and… remember when we did the show for our parents? you looked extremely charming with your father's tie. don't you miss those moments? i wish i could live them again.”

CHILDHOOD-FRIEND!YOONGI who blushes every time you force him to make a pinky promise. you'd think that now that you're both adults with fulfilled lives, this little habit of yours would die. but of course, Yoongi was wrong. maybe because it gave you a bit of security from your childhood or because you had too many memories attached to that habit, but the truth is that now, even though you were already grown up, you had a need to close the most serious promises with your little finger. and, of course, Yoongi could never hide the slight pink hue he gained whenever you linked your finger with his. using a thousand and one excuses, blaming everything and anything, Yoongi wanted the attention turned away from him, but he couldn't deny that your little teasing and laughter comforted him in a unique way. “i can't believe you're going to force me to do this again! you're an adult, how can you still believe in that? no! i'm not scared! oh, shut up and let's get this over with!”

CHILDHOOD-FRIEND!YOONGI who married you when you were 4 years old. after seeing your cousin's wedding and noticing how beautiful the bride was and how stunning she looked next to her groom, you decided that you wanted to get married. choosing a groom was easy, especially because it was already impossible to imagine you without Yoongi, the complicated part was convincing Yoongi to accept the marriage. nothing that some dolls and cookies couldn't solve, really — it was so easy to entice Yoongi to participate in your plans, especially since Yoongi could never say no to you. so, on that sunday afternoon, after a light summer rain, you and Yoongi got married in front of your favorite stuffed animals and swore a life together sharing cookies and laughter. sometimes, when you felt the saddest and most hopeless in life, you would re-watch the video of your wedding with Yoongi and, for a brief moment, everything was okay because you knew you were loved. “no, i'm not going to give you a kiss! how disgusting. a hug is fine… but it has to be quick. i don't want to be tied to you. yes, yes, i'm your husband forever, now. i'll never leave you.”

CHILDHOOD-FRIEND!YOONGI who has water balloon fights with you on warmer, more relaxed days. one tradition that Yoongi made sure to keep was your water balloon fights. barefoot on the grass, with a bucket full of balloons next to the two of you, the hot summer days became more bearable between screams and laughter. races were made in escapes from threats and several promises danced on your lips every time a balloon burst next to the two of you. in small minutes, when the sun warmed you from the icy betrayals committed with laughter, the world seemed something good, something serene. it was as if you had gone back in time and were once again wearing those fragile skins of two children who only knew joy and love. “we have to buy balloons for this weekend! remind me before i pick you up tomorrow. i already mowed the lawn and went to the market to buy lemons. please, don't forget to bring the cake.”

CHILDHOOD-FRIEND!YOONGI who is not afraid to admit that you are the love of his life. “you saw me growing up. you saw me at my lowest moments and at my best. you were always with me, by my side, pushing me, holding me up. we grew up together for a reason: to mold our souls to the essence of each other. and when i tell you that i was born already learning to love you. that l came into this world just to share a life with you… i'm not lying, nor am i exaggerating. you are the love of my life. and even if you don't feel the same way, i know that nothing will change between us. because what we have is genuine and, in my opinion, unique. a love of children, an eternal love.”

[makeyoumine69]

Flesh n' Bones | Hospital AU (INTRO)

PAIRING: Doctor!Patrick Bateman x gn!Nurse!Reader

SUMMARY: My name is Patrick Bateman. I'm 27 years old. I live in the American Gardens building on West 81st Street in New York City. I work as a surgeon at St. Pierce's Hospital—one of the most upscale medical centers in Manhattan—which happens to be owned by my father. And even though I hate my job, sometimes I can find a little bit of fun in making the experience of my patients in the hospital really unforgettable. Not to mention the dozens of missing nurses who definitely regretted crossing the threshold of St. Pierce's Hospital, but who cares—I was the best thing that ever happened to them.

CONTAINS: Swearing, medical procedures, evil plans, gaslighting, pain, blood and injury, interns & internships, power dynamics, flirting, perversion, pet names, Patrick Bateman's POV.

WORDS: 2.4k

A/N: Hello my dears! This story is based on Hospital AU by @peepoo79! Since the first day I saw her Hospital AU comic I was obsessed with this idea so I decided to write it! Since I am not a doctor myself, some things might not be that accurate to medical standards, but I am always open to critique. As always, I hope you enjoy it! Also, many thanks to @mothhmannn for the amazing Patrick art!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [AO3].

October 28, 1987.

Today started so shitty that I didn't even want to go to work, but how could I? I was a fucking surgeon who was supposed to save lives, and when I finally arrived at St. Pierce's Hospital, several nurses crowded around me and started bitching about some shitty stuff I didn't even care about.

"Dr. Bateman, your intern has arrived and is waiting for you in your office," one of the nurses said, handing me a folder of papers. "They seem to be very shy, so please treat them right."

Scowling, I took the papers and nodded. "Uh…Thank you."

Without further ado, I walked past another nurse and down the long corridors, avoiding all of my coworkers as I tried to concentrate on the music blaring from my Walkman headphones. Stopping at the door to my office, I made sure my hair was neatly slicked back before opening the door and stepping inside to see a beautiful person sitting in the chair. The blue medical uniform fit them so well that I even wanted to compliment them, but I stopped myself and just offered them a handshake instead.

"Well, hello there, my name is Dr. Bateman," I smiled and continued to examine my new plaything. "It's...uh...nice to see some young blood in our hospital these days."

You were embarrassed so quickly, probably from such a warm welcome, which was more of an exception for me than a regular thing.

"Thank you, Dr. Bateman...it's an honor to be your intern," you replied politely, trying to hide your nervousness as your hands visibly shook. "This hospital is so...amazing! Literally everything I have seen so far is amazing...including this office!"

The office did look luxurious. Everything screamed wealth and prestige, including the wooden desk and a high-end clock on it, the way you looked at the white leather couch in the corner of the room probably sent shivers down your spine, and somehow I really hoped it did.

"So...when can we start?" You asked as you watched me flip through your portfolio, my face stoic, blank, and absolutely unreadable.

As I stopped flipping through the documents and frowned to add some tension between us, I looked at you stealthily out of the corners of my eyes, and when I saw you chewing on your lower lip, I smiled in wicked satisfaction, but that smile never reached my eyes.

"It's very inspiring that you're so eager to get started," I said, placing several pages on the desk, then picking up my Montblanc pen to make some notes. "I see you've been studying pretty well...considering your grades."

Another shy chuckle fell from your lips at my words. "Oh, I did my best," you replied, settling more comfortably in your chair. "Although I didn't really want to reflect on my college years."

"Why?" I asked, writing down all the personal information I could get from your file, including your address, phone number, blood type...

"It was..." your voice wavered and you paused, causing me to look up at you again. "...hard as hell."

"As it should be. Our jobs require hard work as we carry a huge responsibility on our shoulders," I grinned, closing the folder before I could see the name of the college.  "So where did you study exactly?"

Just as you were about to answer, a loud knock on the door rang through the office and I couldn't help but grumble in anger.

Can I have a break, for fuck's sake!

"Come in," I almost barked, my attention shifting away from you as I saw a nurse - one of the hottest hardbodies in our hospital - walk in. "Courtney? What happened?"

"Dr. Bateman..." She walked over to my desk, completely ignoring your presence. 

"Yes, Courtney?" My patience was about to explode if she didn't answer right away.

"I know you told us not to bother you with non-emergent cases, but other surgeons are busy," she stammered as our gazes met, her blue eyes seeming to brighten even more. "We have a girl whose hand is so full of broken glass, can you please examine her?"

I sighed before glancing quickly at you, a little impressed that you still hadn't said a word. "Does she have insurance? How old is she?"

"Uh," Courtney hiccuped, looking at the patient's medical card. "I checked her insurance, it's valid and... she's nineteen."

"Nineteen?" I replied, suddenly feeling excited. "Well, I think this can be a good start for your internship. What do you think?"

Courtney seemed to finally notice that we were not alone, her plump lips pursed back into a thin line, and I really wanted to laugh at her reaction, but I told myself to stay professional. 

"I'm ready when you are, Dr. Bateman," your suddenly confident voice sounded so challenging that it struck a chord in my chest and brought back a long forgotten feeling of thrill. "I'm sure we'd make a great team under your guidance."

How sweet.

I managed to hold back puke at such a silly, saccharine statement. It reminded me of the cliché every doctor used whenever someone asked them why they chose to work in a hospital.

'Oh, we want to save people's lives! And we're not doing it because doctors have almost the highest salaries in the country!'

I grinned insistently, reveling in my own sense of superiority.  "All right then," I stood up and put on my doctor's coat over my custom-made scrubs with my initials on them. "Courtney, give the medical card to the intern."

The woman froze in shock. "But...but I thought I would assist you..."

I rolled my eyes as I checked myself in the mirror, adjusting the collar of my scrubs and pulling up the sleeves a bit to reveal my Rolex. "I think I made it very clear that your help won't be needed this time.”

If we were alone, I would probably just boff her before doing my work and that would help me get rid of her until the next time, but hell no, now I had a pain in the ass. And why should I have to teach an intern when I didn't even ask for one?

Meanwhile, you were waiting for me at the door, holding a medical card to your chest as if Courtney or I were about to snatch it from your hands. After I was completely satisfied with my appearance, I pinned my ID badge to my chest and walked to the door, trying not to stare too much at Courtney's ass while she was doing something at my desk that I never really bothered to know.

"You know what," I stopped suddenly before leaving. "Wait for me here," the blonde nurse turned to look at me, still bent over the table. "We'll discuss your new assignment."

A few minutes later, we finally entered the Surgery Division, and since you were a newbie here, I had to guide you all the way, telling you some things from time to time, and at some point I realized that I didn't really hate it, because I could blather on about being a super professional surgeon, and this whole place being mine.

Just like the whole hospital.

"I think this is our ward," I muttered and opened the door to let you in. " C'mon, don't be shy." I pushed you forward a bit before closing the door behind you.

The patient—a young red-haired girl with big green eyes whose tight top stuck to her chest so that her nipples poked out—looked at us the moment we entered the ward. 

"Oh, finally," she mumbled in sheer annoyance, her right hand covered in blood-stained bandages. "I was beginning to think everyone had forgotten about me."

Still nervous, you cleared your throat and quickly looked down at the medical card. "Sorry for the long wait, Miss...Miss Ray," you managed to smile, even though you looked like a patient who was afraid to get treatment, but not her, "My name is (y/n) and this is Dr. Bateman, he's one of the best surgeons in this hospital."

One of the best?

Your slightly incorrect comment made me furrow my brow, but in the next second I was smiling seductively at the girl whose scrutinizing look I couldn't miss. She was pretty attractive, hell, just the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra made her attractive. 

With practiced ease, I put on medical gloves after washing my hands very meticulously. Then I glanced at the patient's medical card, not taking it in my hands, but letting you hold it for me.

"Can I take a look?" I finally asked, taking a seat next to the examination table and putting the mask on. Carefully I began to unfold the bandages, the little whimpering the girl made gave me undeniable pleasure. "Well, that doesn't look too bad," I said when I could finally see the wound, and several pieces of glass had sunk quite deep into her flesh. "How did you manage that?"

The girl blushed as I began to examine her forearm, moving higher up to her shoulder, though it wasn't really necessary. I just loved how soft her skin was, as much as I could tell by feeling it through the elastic material of my gloves.

"I...I accidentally broke the mirror." She replied, her breathing uneven and her pulse quickening as I took a moment to check her. "My name is Liza, by the way."

I chuckled charmingly before turning to look at you, as you stood behind my back, watching my work very intently. "Can you bring me forceps? And...a scalpel?"

"Scalpel?" You replied a little confused.

"Yes," I confirmed and repositioned Liza's arm for better access. "And I'll also need a suture kit."

The girl tensed at my words that I would need a scalpel. "Is it...necessary?"

"Hmm?" I hummed, asking her a silent question while you busied yourself with preparing the instruments. 

"A scalpel...are you going to make an incision?" Liza asked, giving me a pleading glare, her fear was palpable in the air and I couldn't help but savor it.

"I just want all the instruments to be close by in case I have a need for them, that's all. Now please relax." I murmured this with fake sympathy before resuming the examination, pressing down on one of the shards and making Liza whimper. "Shh, it's okay."

The redhead frowned in pain. "It hurts...doctor...it hurts so much!"

When I heard you return, I removed my fingers from the wound. "All right, no nerve damage and that's good." I smiled, obviously lying, my hand was already extended, ready to take the forceps.

"Your forceps, doctor," the way you said 'doctor' made my eyes glow with a mischievous spark. "Clean and sterilized, just like the scalpel and suture kit."

"Very well," I replied, feeling a chill in the metal in my hand. "Put them here," I tapped the spot on the examination table, wondering how you would do that. "And where's your mask?"

Confused, you stuttered. "Oh...yeah...sorry," you mumbled in embarrassment before putting on a mask. "I'm still a little nervous."

Liza knitted her eyebrows in a skeptical way that almost made me burst out laughing.

Okay, now I'm really starting to like this.

"Don't worry, my pill fairy," I watched you place a metal tray with instruments on the spot I showed you. "It's your first day in the hospital...it's...always a little nerve wracking."

As soon as I said it, you stopped in your tracks, and even though your face was covered by the mask, I was pretty sure you were so damn embarrassed that I was going to burn my finger off your cheek. You didn't make any comments though, which made me a little frustrated, but I didn't show it, I took the forceps more comfortably in my hand and began to remove the broken glass from Liza's shaky arm. The way I used the instruments was always mesmerizing - a work of art - as some nurses said, including Courtney, but today I was trying my best because I wanted to impress you. Shard by shard, I took them all out without causing any pain, something I usually couldn't find anything to be proud of.

"Done," I muttered, throwing the last piece of glass into the steel bow. "You took it so bravely."

The redhead smiled tiredly, trying not to look down at her hand. "Thank you, Doctor."

"You're welcome, sweetheart," I allowed you to clean the wound with the antiseptic and dab it with a swab. "It's my job, after all. Now, (y/n), can you please show me how you were taught to make stitches?"

"Of course, Dr. Bateman," you replied without hesitation, and this kind of obedience seemed to become my personal drug.

Standing up, I took a moment to admire how your uniform accentuated all of your curves, especially the roundness of your ass and the arch of your hips.

Shit, maybe I shouldn't have let Courtney stay in my office?

With these thoughts I leaned against the white wall and took off my mask as I suddenly felt a strong urge to smoke, luckily I still had the box of cigars my father had brought me from Cuba. I imagined inhaling the sharp scent of snuff when Liza's sudden whimper pulled me out of my trance.

"Can I have an anesthetic?" She asked, squirming in her place as she watched you prepare a suture kit.

"Just a local one," I muttered, a bit annoyed. "That will be enough. (Y/n), what should you do before using anesthesia?"

My question made you freeze. "Ask the patient about any allergies?"

"Right, but in this case you can find all the information on the medical card," I took off the gloves and took the card in my hands. "Well, I don't see anything that would prevent us from using bupivacaine."

As Liza sighed with relief and I watched you take a syringe, I had to admit that I was amazed at how carefully and attentively you worked.

Maybe you're not gonna get kicked out of the hospital as fast as I thought.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[aggieharkness]

Have I earned it, mother? Chp. 5

Pairing: Avis Amberg x reader

Summary: working at the studio was a hard affair for you, but for Avis who had no idea how to run it it was even harder. Coming to find out she has been staying late almost every day you decide to whisk her away so she can take a break.

Warnings: smut (+18), affair, swearing, oral (Avis receiving), fingering (Avis receiving), slight praise kink, pet names, tit play, lingerie, outdoors sex.

Authors note: First of all, I'm very sorry about what's going on in Los Angeles right now. It's truly devastating to see so many families lost over the rubble of what used to be their lives; my heart goes out to all of them. This chapter is for them, so we will never forget its beauty even if the flames consume it all. Hope will sprout from in between the ashes. On another note, I'm sorry that this chapter has taken so long, but I've had to slow down a bit, I couldn't keep up with the way I've been dropping fanfics. I'm not sure if the last part is any good, it's like two o'clock in the morning and I need to sleep but I hope that you like it and as always, be gentle but tell me If I need to be more graphic, if I'm lacking on something. I am here for you, my dear people, I listen. I also accept ideas that you might have or things that you might want to see Avis and reader do. Also available on Ao3. Finally, let's thank Patti Lupone for giving us Avis Amberg.

Shoutout to @bravewithacapitalb for being my beta reader for part of the story.

Chp. 1 Chp. 2 Chp. 3 Chp.4 Chp.6 Chp.7

Word count: 20K (I have nothing to say. I have tried and failed.)

Kiss me in a field of lavender

The tension had been palpable in the air all day, people whispering and gossiping about the newest production that Avis had green-lighted, quiet conversations happening in the canteen away from Miss Kincaid’s or Mr Samuel’s ears. Meg was in everyone’s mouths, and by what they were saying it could be a total disaster for the studio if things carried on like this, but you knew that Avis would not have taken such a leap if she wasn’t perfectly sure, but you had not had the chance to talk about it with her yet. Since that night at the hotel, you two had decided to spend more time together, one way or another. She needed you, not only because you were a magician and always knew how to relax her and make her forget with your skilled fingers and mouth, but because you would sit with her and simply listen. She vented to you all her frustrations, from how she felt about Ace and their life together to how the studio was running her ragged, the productions that they were doing feeling like they were utter shit. They didn’t make her feel anything but disgust and boredom, like they were wastes of time and money, missing out on all those wonderful opportunities to make the people see how the world truly was, to give the spotlight to all those minorities that deserved to be heard. Meg was a breath of fresh air for everyone, you knew she knew, and she was willing to take this risk for the betterment of the country, if it helped somehow.

Sitting in your tiny little office, eyes reading some documents Miss Kincaid had handed you perhaps half an hour ago, you could feel the exhaustion of the day catching up. Your sight was becoming blurry, the words dancing on the paper as you tried to follow the paragraph, your shoulders tense and your back beginning to hurt, muscles stiff and throbbing under your skin. It was a rewarding job, most of the time, but the extra hours you put in almost every day weren’t really necessary, in your opinion, though the mountain of reports and files that never seemed to get any smaller begged to differ. The clock on the wall chimed eight, and after one more try you just couldn’t focus on the document anymore, so you decided to call it a day, putting the pages inside a brown folder and leaving it for tomorrow, on top of the rest of files, the chair scraping slightly over the tiles as you stood. You hadn’t realised just how dark it was getting until you walked past your window, the sky blending the last strokes of purples and pink into a deep navy blue sprinkled with millions of tiny bright specks that glinted high above your head. On one side light still lingered, bathing palm trees and houses with the last few yellowy beams of the day, on the other side a blanket of night enfolding the world.

In the few years you had lived here it still amazed you how different it all was and how it felt the same each time you looked up at the sky. In the distance the streetlamps were beginning to turn on, the stars above dulled by the world down on the ground. Hollywood at night was always so full of life but you had never been too interested in partaking, even if there were times when you did go out and simply had a drink or two enjoying the atmosphere. Tonight, though wasn’t one of those nights; there had been too many meetings, too many conversations and phone calls banging in your head loud as bombs. All you wanted was silence, even if it was for a moment, an instant maybe. Tearing your eyes from the window to grab your coat you stopped mid-step, turning your head to see that Avis’s car was still in the parking lot. Yesterday you had seen it still in its designated spot as you were leaving at seven, and the day before when you had left at half past eight, but you hadn’t been sure if she was staying late every day or if this was a Meg-related thing. Now you were sure it was a normal occurrence, wondering how late she stayed each day before going home; if she went home. It was quite obvious to you that she was giving this studio more than it deserved, in your most humble opinion, but you also knew just how rewarding all this must be for her. A woman who’s never had any power at all, who’s been a housewife for more than twenty years, though that didn’t mean she had to run herself ragged just to fulfil this dream. Once again you tore your eyes from the window, picked up your coat from its hanger, and walked out of your office, locking it once you had stepped into the corridor. You didn’t even notice as the wheels of your mind began to move, your feet carrying you down to the elevator as if you were on autopilot, used to doing this little trek every day several times, but instead of pushing the ground button, you found yourself pushing the one for the first floor.

It surprised you for an instant, but then you realised you had been picturing you and Avis laying over green grass with a few sandwiches and sweet treats along with a bottle of champagne or maybe wine. It was such a lovely idea, and you knew you could wait until the weekend to do it at her place, make it absolutely perfect down to the smallest detail, but something told you that it should not wait. The door chimed as they opened to reveal the floor where the canteen and bar were, hoping that Avis would just go with the flow and trust you as you stepped into the corridor and down to the still open doors. A few boys were having the first drinks of the evening, others a bit tipsy already in a corner discussing heatedly something about a trip to Colorado in what they thought were hushed tones, but you didn’t care much. Approaching the bar, you waited until the man in the white uniform was done drying and putting away a bunch of glasses, signalling with your head that you were ready to order.

-Hi, James. Busy day?

-Not more than usual. I gotta tell you though that if you want something warm better be quick, Nick’s about to turn off the stoves for the day.

-Oh, then could you maybe get me, like, a few chicken sandwiches with lettuce and mayo and two cut up steaks? I would appreciate it. Tell Nick that potatoes are not necessary if he doesn’t want to add them, a Caesar salad on the side would work just as well.

-All that for you?

-No. I’m planning something, but I’m not telling you about it.

-You can trust me not to say a word Y/N. Who’s the lucky guy?

-Sorry, but it’s top secret. Can you give me a bottle of red wine, and some cut up fruit as well?

-Sure, just let me tell Nicky here. It’ll be a little bit, so if you want a drink while you wait…?

-No, I need to do something first, I’ll just come down when I’m done and pick it all up. Watch him with the salt though, I’m not eating another sandwich dipped in the stuff.

-It was April Fool’s, that’s all I can say, hun.

-Still, keep an eye on him.

He was a good guy, you had known him since the first day you had started working here, absolutely terrified of everyone but needing the money. It seemed as if it had been only yesterday when you first set foot in Miss Kincaid’s office shaking like a leaf, a young little thing that only wanted to impress her boss and to not get fired within the week. When you had gone down to the canteen to get yourself lunch you had seen him serving Mr. Samuels and in shock you nearly spilled your glass of juice all over the bar, but James had grabbed it just as your elbow was hitting it, saving the day, and the man’s suit. After that he had been kind and had gently guided you all through the building and the main events in your schedule so you wouldn’t have so much trouble getting through the day. He told you that you shouldn’t be that nervous, that Miss Kincaid was a real nice lady and you wouldn’t have any issues with her, which had turned out to be more than true. You owed him for that, and maybe one day you would be able to return the favour but for the time being he was more than happy to simply be your friend and a server at the studio. It paid well he said. Tapping him on his upper arm you turned away and headed back to the corridor, hearing his loud voice telling Nick about a special order as if it were one of those fancy restaurants you had seen down Sunset Boulevard.

The building was quiet, not as much as it had been that night you had shared with Avis, but the ambiance was far more relaxed than it had been in the morning, hearing your footsteps as you entered the lift, hitting the button for the top floor. In the back of your mind there had been a headache brewing, but it seemed as if the silence was soothing it, slowly vanishing into a gentle ache that maybe would fade completely as the night went by. One could only hope, of course. The doors chimed, opening with a quiet scratching noise to reveal a completely empty floor; not even Miss Stinton was at her desk anymore, having probably left an hour or so ago. Walking over the carpet your shoes made no noise, muffled as you made your way to those big oak doors, noticing how they were slightly ajar, the gentle light from the chandelier escaping and bathing the corridor in warm orange hues. Peeking through the gap you could not help the smile that graced your lips, watching Avis as she rested against the back of her chair, a pair of glasses perched perfectly on her nose, eyes moving from left to right as she took in the words written on the pages, rolling them and huffing every few seconds as if what she had in her hands was utterly disappointing. Her slender fingers with perfect manicured red nails tapped over the wooden desk in a monotone rhythm, the sleeve of her asymmetrical pink and black blouse bunched around her elbow, the fabric clinging to her ample bosom, although in her current posture, you could not see the way they rose and fell under the gown.

It would be marvellous to slip into this room, close the door, and have your way with her, making her pant and moan as you dipped to your knees, spreading her beautifully while sitting in that exact same chair, ruining the leather with each orgasm you could pull from her depths. In your dreams her screams and sweet hushed whines and whimpers would make your body shiver and burn, almost as if you could still feel her tender kisses on your skin, lingering, tasting every inch of you, her fingertips ghosting over your hips, under your jaw, it did not matter. Her presence was ever-lasting, overwhelming when you would wake up in the dark of your room, sometimes alone, sometimes with her beside you, her expensive perfume mixing with her salty essence in a perfect mix that filled your lungs and warmed your chest. You knew that once her husband recovered, if he ever did, all those late-night conversations, all those times you had driven her to your place, undressed her and simply let her sleep in your arms, all of that would go back to the shadows, hidden in every corner only able to steal glances whenever she went to the studio, only sharing her time and bed whenever her husband went away, whenever he neglected her and drove her to tears and her broken down body showed up on your doorstep. It was all a matter of time, you knew, but until that moment arrived you would savour every second life would let you have with her.

Slipping quietly through the crack you tiptoed in her direction, your heels falling onto the carpet softly so as to not draw any attention, your eyes watching her body language that although tense was also calm, focused on whatever garbage she was reading. Her presence soothed the ache you had not realised had settled in your heart since parting with her a couple of days prior, the last kiss still lingering on your cherry lips. Coming to stand behind her chair your hands traced the outline on the top, feeling the stiches under your fingers as you gently moved them to the front, coming to rest on top of her dress. The fabric was soft, the heat of her body seeping through the pink material as you gently began to move them up and down her shoulders. Avis had been so lost in her own world, the words written on the page swimming before her eyes in boredom as she let her mind wander through senseless ideas and wonderful memories, that she had not noticed you coming in, the feeling of someone’s hands on her shoulders startling her in her chair, jumping slightly until she caught a whiff of a perfume well known to her, that sweet berry aroma enfolding her completely as the sudden fear and anger at the intrusion melted away in an instant, relaxing her body into your touch. Her hat laid over the desk next to her purse, forgotten there since this morning, allowing her gorgeous ginger curls to be free and on full display, neatly pinned on top of her head and perfectly placed and soft under your lips as you landed a kiss to the crown of it.

-Hello, darling.

-Hi. – it was melodious to hear her relaxed gentle tone, every muscle in your body reacting to her voice as if she was enchanting snakes, your head coming to rest over her right shoulder, lips pecking the soft skin of her neck as the hand that had been holding onto the script let it fall on her lap, nails scratching gently your scalp, the other one removing her glasses and letting the fall over the desk. She hummed at your tender ministrations.

-I thought you would have gone home already.

-I wish. – without noticing her head lulled to the side, granting you better access as your lips moved on to that sweet spot under her ear before tracing the shape of her jawline, your hands never ceasing their rubbing on her shoulders, the hard knots palpable through her dress. - Ellen gave me these scripts to read at lunch time and I was just trying to get through the second one before going home.

-Any good?

-No. They really are shit, Y/N. No feeling, no art, there’s nothing here. I’ve read instructions on how to build shelves that made me feel more than this!

-I know, I watched “All Hands on Deck”.

-I told Ace not to green-light it, but he was adamant. – she was beginning to heat up in frustration, but your skilled fingers rubbing those sore spots relaxed her almost instantly, her head falling back against the leather as you pecked her cheek, her eyes closing with a contented sigh. -He said it was good, that it would do well, and it’s one of the worst we’ve made. Where are the meaningful stories? – the way her hands moved of their own accord, emphasising her words even as her body melted against your lips, was a delightful sight. She felt everything so strongly. - Where are the tears, the suffering, the love, the betrayals, the passion… This doesn’t show life, it shows fairytales that are not even that. It’s just crap.

-They are not Meg.

-They are not Meg.  

-People are talking about it you know. A lot. Good things, bad things, in-betweens.

-I know it’s a risk but honestly Y/N, you should read it, you should see it. It’s a breath of fresh air and Camille is marvellous, probably one of the best we’ve ever had. – every fibre of her being was practically beaming with pride, her body turning the chair around so she could face you, forcing your hands to slip from her shoulders, but it didn’t matter if the prize was seeing those sparkles of pride in her eyes, the way they glowed as her smile grew bigger with each word. -  If Ace saw it, he would be red with rage, but I stand by this.

-I know you do. People here think that you are a scary tyrant, they expect you to be like him, but you are nothing like that. You know this is the right thing, that this film will matter, that some little girl in a tiny village will see someone like her on screen and think “I can do that. I can be anything”. You are changing lives as we speak, darling.

-Many people don’t agree with you. More than a hundred theatres in the South have already written saying that they won’t show it and have pulled some of the other films as a boycott to try and get us to cancel Meg.

-But you won’t. – you knew that Helena Rubinstein made Avis’s skincare perfectly suited to her, but it still amazed you how soft her cheeks were whenever you placed your palms over them, your thumbs rubbing circles on her jaw before your fingers travelled to the nape of her neck feeling a few flyways that had escaped her perfectly coifed hair.

-Of course. I’ve put too much work and faith in this to pull it now. I might tank the studio but at least we’ll go with a film that will mean something.

-You won’t tank it; Ellen has already mentioned that you’ve sued Lawson, Daniels and McHadden for breach of contract and that there’s theatres in the North that have already assured they will have security so they can show it. People might hate it, but there will be millions who won’t. I have a feeling that this will only be the beginning of a promising string of movies made not by Ace Studios, but by you, Avis Amberg.

-You believe in me more than I do.

-It’s easy. – the red of her lips had faded somewhat since lunch time, her plump mouth calling your name, her eyes looking at you with such expectancy that it almost made you weak in the knees. You were tempted to bend over and claim them but for some reason you could not stray away your eyes from hers, so deep and wide, looking up at you without any barriers, no walls to keep herself hidden away from you. Your thumb traced her bottom lip softly not even smudging her carmine as you did so, but the action didn’t carry a sexual innuendo, as enticing and beautiful as Avis was, it was a simple caring gesture. - I know you and I know that everything you do, you do contemplating risks and prizes, rewards that will be at the end of the line. Meg is the start; it will be the hardest of them all just because of that, but once this one’s through, and I’m sure it will be, the rest will just fall perfectly into place.

-Assuming Ace lets me carry on with it all when he wakes up.

-If he didn’t, he would be a fool. There’s talent inside you Avis, there always has been but men are too blind to see it simply because one does not fall into their category of pretty or obedient. Ace will know just how good you are when Meg becomes the biggest hit this studio has ever produced. He won’t be able to deny that this success was all due to you.

Your words dug deep into Avis’s heart, burrowing and settling deep, almost feeling as if you were marking her very soul. She had been in the shadows her whole life; yes, everyone knew who she was and any time she set foot in a room she filled it up with her power and personality but whenever she returned home the halls were cold, silent, no comfort kisses, no sweet words murmured in her ear. She was a forgotten woman in her own marriage, and she hated it more than anything. She hated how insignificant Ace had made her feel all this time and how bitter it had turned her, self-conscious of her abilities as if she didn’t have the right to think she was made for something else than just staying at home. Every day of her life had been a miserable dance of biting words and fake smiles surrounded by an atmosphere of empty luxury until you waltzed in, and everything since that night had turned from a bleak void into something worth fighting for. She was unsure how you did it, but you did it anyway; you made her feel special, unique, as if she actually mattered, that she was worth a million dollars every day she woke up, every second.

Locking eyes with you she could see the truth that glazed them, the adoration and love seeping from every pore of your body and mingling with her skin, and like a teenager, she felt herself blush, a gentle smile painting her lips. You believed in her with every fibre of your being like no one had believed before and that meant more than all the jewellery and priceless pieces of art she had been gifted in more than twenty years of marriage. She would throw them all away if it meant simply hearing you say those words for the rest of her life. The script had fallen at her feet some time ago, but she hadn’t noticed, too lost in you to actually care. Her hands held onto your wrists, keeping them in place on her cheeks as she turned her head to place a kiss on your left palm, the red lipstick leaving an imprint that you didn’t want to ever part with. With the way you always responded to her every touch it didn’t surprise her with how much ease she could pull you to her, your body falling on her lap as each leg rested on her sides, coming to straddle her, your face barely a few inches from hers. Your brain barely registered the way your fingers were now playing with the hair on the back of her head, pulling pins here and there to let one single curl fall to her shoulder, twirling it gently, almost playfully.

-It’s not only me you know, there’s Camille, Ellen, Dick, Jack… There’s an entire studio behind this one.

-But you gave it the go-ahead. You trusted this story with the right cast, you took a risk that no one else would have done. This script is something, and you knew from the very beginning even if you didn’t think they would let Camille do it. This beautiful Jew I’m looking at will make history.

Her heart pounded against her ribs, her chest so full of love that she feared she might explode, her eyes blurry with tears for an instant, but she didn’t give you the chance to watch them fall. Her kiss was hard, borderline bruising even, and yet you could not pull away, her lips soft as her hands cradled your face. Your mouth opened of its own accord to grant her the access her tongue was begging you for, tracing the shape of your teeth and giving you the opportunity to scrape her lower lip, a rumbling moan sliding from Avis’s throat at the feeling. If magic truly existed you would have cast a spell so your body would be able to mingle with hers down to the last atom, feeling her completely under your skin, in your bones, in your blood, your minds dancing around in each other as a thin red thread built and wrapped around you both. To live as one even for an instant, not knowing where Avis ended and you began, so utterly connected that neither of you would ever feel alone, abandoned on the curb of some dark road without direction, would be as grand as letting yourself sink to the depths of the ocean with her hand holding yours, forever united. As your lungs began to scream for air she had to pull away, chests rising and falling fast, the sound of your breaths the only noise in that big office. Avis’s eyes were slightly dilated, and you would have loved to simply take her, she probably had the same idea, you thought, but she needed to get out of that studio, to smell fresh air and leave work behind, at least for one night.

-What would I do without you?

-Break records and that ceiling glass that keeps us from reaching the top. I’m not some miracle that has turned you into a new woman Avis; all that power and skill has always been inside you. The only thing I’m doing is loving you, showing you what I see so that you can realise it and see it for yourself.

-But you are a miracle, Y/N. Mine. – rubbing right under your lower lip she wiped your smudged lipstick with her thumb, her eyes moving from your mouth back to your eyes. There was a single streak on her right cheek where her tear had blurred her rouge slightly, but it didn’t seem to bother her, not with the way her eyes were glinting under the light of the chandelier as she looked at you.

-You are going to make me blush, Avis.

-Not a bad sight in my opinion. Your face all red and pink just for me. I wonder if I could make you red everywhere else. – her voice was all husky and quiet, whispered against your lips almost, sending a shiver down your spine as her hands settled on your hips to pull you closer. Perhaps getting out of this office was going to be harder than anticipated.

-None of that now, you and I have plans for tonight. Don’t get me wrong, I would love for you to leave all me red and bruised, but I think that what I have in mind in going to be a welcome change.

-Oh? Any hints?

-You are far too smart; you’d find out within a minute. Just trust me to take care of you and make this wonderful, okay?

-I would go anywhere with you, you know it, but right now, anything to get me away from these horrid scripts is more than welcome.

-And what are you going to do about them?

-Tell Harold and the other guy tomorrow to fix it or they’ll be out on the street by Monday next week. Ace might have liked these movies simply because they were money makers, which they are not now, but I’m running this studio, and I won’t accept this crap, not anymore. If they want to write shit like this, they can do it in the streets.

-Always so sure of your choices. They’ll learn soon enough that you have taste, but no more of that talk now. If we hurry, we might get to see the last few seconds of the sunset.

Removing yourself from her lap was a herculean task, her hands holding you in place with a harder grip than you had foreseen but of course, there was that lust in her eyes, that possessive tinge around her chocolate irises that was practically screaming at you to forget all plans and just ravish her right there. She would do anything to keep you close and yet your fingers let go of her hair, pinning that loose soft curl back before letting your hands slid over her shoulders. Her fingers wouldn’t let go as you stood, the tips still lingering over the fabric of your white flowy dress but as you took one step back, she was forced to let them slip slowly off your hips, though you didn’t leave her any chance of dropping her hand to her sides or over the armrests. Tenderly your fingers intertwined and with a surprisingly gentle strength, you pulled her to you, her heels landing quietly over the carpet. There was a childish curiosity in her eyes that thrilled you to no end; the fact that you had the ability to always keep her guessing without making her feel as if she was in the dark about what was going on in your relationship was a refreshing change from all those late minute invitations to parties or boring dinners that she had to attend with Ace without the chance of saying no. Rounding the corner of the desk Avis had to let go of one of your hands to grab her hat and purse, but she made no effort to place the first on her head, over her perfect curls. The people left in the building wouldn’t pay much attention to her and if they did take notice, they wouldn’t comment on of the fact that she wasn’t wearing it.

Grabbing your coat from the back of the couch you guided Avis towards the door, flicking the lights off and letting her push the heavy wooden doors close behind you. In the darkness of the office, next to the desk, the script remained forgotten over the carpet. Walking beside you, Avis chatted about how her day had been, the doors to the lift opened and you quickly pushed the button for the first floor once again. Avis raised an eyebrow at that, but you remained quiet, simply smiling politely at her, though a sneaky grin did make its way to your lips when you turned your face back to the doors just as the lift stopped. Stepping out Avis had to let go of your hand. She was getting better with the public displays of affection; a quick peck on your cheek, fingers touching but never holding, a hand on your lower back or yours resting on her upper arm, still she could not bring herself to hold your hand fully. She worried what people might say, how they might react, not towards her, they didn’t have the balls to even look at her when she walked past them let alone tell her off, but you were far more approachable and people could be cruel, not to mention that one slip up and your picture could end up on the front page of a magazine before she could stop it. There was an emptiness in your chest that you didn’t appreciate at all as her hand dropped to her side but there wasn’t anything you could do about it. Avis saw that sadness in your posture, a veil of disappointment shading your eyes, but it wasn’t directed at her. In an attempt to lift your spirits somewhat she looked at the door of the canteen and up and down the corridor to make sure that no one was looking or heading this way before she grabbed your face and kissed you gently.

Your entire frame relaxed into her lips, her palms warm against your cheeks and her fingers falling in between soft locks of hair that had escaped your braid and were now framing your face. When she broke the kiss, leaving you slightly dumbfounded, she was quick to wipe your once again smudged carmine, your neurons short-circuiting for a moment before you were able to function again. It was okay if the pecks were given while Ellen or Dick were in the room, or when Gertie and Mr. Breaton, the old man that worked at the gates of Avis’s house, could enter the room at any given moment, but a kiss so public was not a usual thing she engaged in. Thinking about it you realised that the only time you had kissed in a semi-public space had been on New Year’s Eve while you were still in the car in front of the restaurant, but back then many of the people in the streets were drunk, so they wouldn’t remember anyway. Kissing you at the studio in such a public area was a risk you had not expected her to take but the happiness it filled you with overshadowed the sadness of not holding her hand. With hushed words, you asked her to wait there as you turned and entered the canteen watching joyfully as James placed containers of food on top of the bar as Nicky handed them to him through the tiny window connecting the room to the kitchen.

-Just in time, Y/N!

-I couldn’t have done it better if I had timed it, eh? Did you leave Nick alone with the salt?

-Not for one second. – he had a bright smile, one of the things his wife loved the most he had told you one day when you first started having lunch there, apart from his plumbing skills, and he flashed you one full with teeth as he pulled out a mesh bag from under the bar  and placed the bottle of red wine you had requested along with a bottle of champagne, winking at you. It was obvious you were going on a date but there really was no need for champagne, but you were not going to say no to the guilty pleasure you knew Avis had. From underneath the coffee machine, he pulled a wicker basket, placing it on top of the bar so he could start placing all the containers inside along with some cutlery and a couple of paper cups. – Nicky has added some roasted potatoes he had left from some dish or something, hope you don’t mind.

-No, not at all.

-Then that’s all, I think. The sandwiches, the steaks with some salad and potatoes, the drinks and the fruit.

-Yeah, that’s everything. Thanks a bunch, James. How much do I owe you? – you pulled your wallet from your coat pocket, but he shook his head and pushed your hand away from him.

-This one’s on us. We would have thrown the food away anyway. You and your secret love enjoy it; but don’t get too drunk.

-You know I never do. Are you sure you don’t even want a twenty?

-I’m sure. It was actually Nicky’s orders, and you know him, no taking back. Go and have fun.

-Thanks, James. See you tomorrow. Bye, Nick!

From the tiny window the face of a big man with beady blue eyes popped out, his deep rumbling voice wishing you a goodnight as you picked the basket and the drinks, waving back to them both. When you stepped into the hallway Avis wasn’t anywhere to be found, a sudden fear that she might have stood you up, leaving you looking like an idiot with all that food, or that someone could have come and given her some news that had required her to leave, assaulting your mind as you headed one way of the corridor looking for her, but when you reached the ending of the foyer she wasn’t there, so you turned the other way. The despair that had bloomed just a few seconds ago growing exponentially. Rounding the corner your eyes caught a glimpse of a pink dress, registering after half a second her frame leaning against the wall, next to a window smoking a cigarette. A relieved breath escaped you, drawing her attention. She wasn’t the sort of woman that would leave like that, you knew so, but you had had partners that had behaved like that or even worse, making you wait for hours in a restaurant until closing time, drink after drink filling the table as you had cried in silence, and maybe, you thought bitterly, some of those issues were still lingering inside you. It made you feel quite bad the way you had reacted, as if you didn’t trust her enough, as if you believed her capable of doing such a thing when you knew perfectly well that she would never hurt you like that. Releasing the smoke she had inhaled, Avis noticed the fear in your eyes, the way you clung to the basket and the mesh bag, her body suddenly completely alert and rushing to you.

-Hey, are you okay? Did something happen?

-It’s nothing. I’m fine now, let’s go.

-Y/N, talk to me. – she flipped the butt of the cigarette out the ajar window before placing both hands on your forearms, thumbs rubbing circles through the fabric of your coat and dress. - You know you can trust me.

-You are going to think it’s stupid, which you wouldn’t be wrong about, to be honest.

-I promise I won’t. Did someone say something? I will fire them immediately.

-No, no. I just didn’t see you when I came out of the canteen and… I thought you had left.

-Oh, doll, I wouldn’t leave you without telling you and if I had to, I would take you with me if I could.

-I know. It was just my mind playing tricks on me.

-It’s happened to you before, hasn’t it?

-A few times. I know that you would never do something like that but for some reason, I thought you had. Which makes me feel really bad now.

-Don’t feel like that. – the carpet all of a sudden seemed the most interesting part of this entire hallway, but Avis didn’t let you keep your glance downcast, she placed her fingers under your chin forcing you to look up at her. It struck her hard how vulnerable you looked, how much like a scared child you seemed to be with those sad eyes, and she internally cursed about how little she actually knew about you and your past, only a few snippets here and there. Your love life was not something you divulged or talked about while Avis’s conquests were well known to you, and she couldn’t help but feel as if there were pieces of you she still had to find. But she knew that the only thing she had to do was ask you for them and wait until you were ready to hand them out. - You are the best thing in my life, Y/N; I won’t ever leave you. I would never simply walk out on you when you go to such lengths to make me happy, going out of your way to grant me wishes I didn’t even know I had. Don’t ever doubt my love for you or how much you mean to me.

-I don’t, it was just a moment when my demons took the best of me. Relationships like this are still something relatively new to me, but we’ve been through too much for me to lose my trust in you. Still, I appreciate your words Avis, truly. I’m fine now, let’s not let this ruin our plans.

She needed to make sure you were a hundred percent okay, to know that this wasn’t deeper than you were letting on. With a gentle grip around your biceps she stopped you before you could turn away from her, bending to kiss you tenderly, pressing her forehead against yours for a few instants. Just as she didn’t know how you did it, how you made her feel this way, you weren’t sure how she managed to always make you feel safe, protected, and cared for, as if her hands could shield you from every single horrible thing in the world and keep you both inside a bubble where nothing bad could ever happen. Where she could love you forever and always. The heat her body expelled wrapped around you in the silent corridor, the sun casting waves of pink behind Avis in gentle halos that bathed her frame as you separated slightly, the pastel colour moving around her as if a painter was applying brushstrokes all around. Without a word she took the mesh bag from your right hand, intertwining her fingers with yours, and pulled you back down the corridor until you stood in front of the lift once again. No one was there to see you, no one would have cared if they had, and a little bubble of happiness enfolded your heart as she never let go of your hand, not even when you both stepped out onto the ground floor and headed for the front doors to set foot out into the world.

It was a small gesture to show you just how much she truly loved you, a promise that she wasn’t leaving you even if the universe fell apart. You couldn’t truly understand why she was so against holding your hand in public, after all she had been seen touching your back or your arm, even with her hand on your shoulder, your bodies never more than a foot apart from each other. You were even sure someone must have seen her kissing you on the cheek at this point, and yet she still drew the line at holding hands. But despite it all she was crossing the hall knowing that the few people left would see, her action a statement to you but mostly to herself that you were far more important than gossip or a few pictures. You were her friend, her partner, her therapist, her doctor, anything and everything, and if she could have had it her way you would have been her wife already. So, if people wanted to talk, let them talk, they were bound to find something to gossip about anyway, and she wasn’t going to push her happiness to the back of her mind and heart anymore, nor yours. Her grip was strong but never painful, the warm breeze that greeted you both as you stepped out of the building carrying a soft aroma of the first flowers that were beginning to bloom, perhaps a bit early, but nevertheless beautiful in between the deep green grass and moss. You walked to the parking lot and towards her car, but you quickly pulled her arm in the direction of yours, meeting a raised eyebrow.

-I know a place that you will love.

-You don’t want to have dinner at home, in the garden maybe?

-I would love to, but you need to see this spot, believe me. Come on, I won’t crash the car or anything.

There it was, that melodious loud laugh of hers that made your every limb tingle. It rang as clear as glass, echoing ever so slightly in the nearly empty parking lot, and you could not help but join her with quiet chuckles as you pulled her to your Packard. You met no resistance whatsoever and made quick work of the basket by placing it in the trunk along with the drinks that Avis kindly handed to you. Whatever you had planned was bound to be good taking in account the bottles she had taken notice of; an expensive bubbly that she adored with its fruity aftertaste and its smooth flavour, and a rich, slightly sweet red wine that she had every once in a while with her meals, never on its own, and that was a perfect companion for meats and desserts. Just before you closed the trunk Avis caught a whiff of the delicious aroma of roasted potatoes and gravy, her stomach rumbling quietly as she realised just how hungry she was, not having had a bite since lunch time, only coffee and a glass or two of whiskey to keep her running.

Being out of the office was already doing her some good, the tension in her shoulders slipping down her arms as she rounded the side of the car to get into the passenger’s seat but not before closing her eyes and simply taking in a deep breath of fresh air, the last few beams the sun cast down onto the ground warming her face. An instant later she was settled beside you. The car already smelled liked you, that precious berry perfume that you sprayed on each morning clinging to the leather in transparent rivulets that filled Avis’s lungs as you turned the engine on and began to back out of the spot before heading to the gates, the comfort of it making her relax in her seat, resting an arm on the back of it and using her hand as a perch for her head. With her cheek on her palm, she was able to take you in, never tiring of simply staring at you. It felt as if every time her eyes landed upon your perfect face, she found a new feature she hadn’t seen before, like tiny little freckles on your high cheekbones or a beauty mark on the tip of your nose that was almost invisible unless the person was extremely close to you.

But the ones she had engraved in her memory were the ones she loved to take in again and again. She adored the way your full lips curled inward just a bit when you smiled, the way your cheeks dimpled ever so slightly, or how you scrunched your nose when you were concentrating on something. Every little aspect of you was like a wave of mint in her veins, overwhelming and overpowering the rotten stench of her life before she met you. She knew that you were young, younger probably than most of the boys she had had at the gas station, but you were far more mature than any of them and there was something so utterly intricate and beautiful in the way you always seemed to find joy in everything and everyone. She had no desire to destroy all that wonderful happiness that you carried with you wherever you went. People like you are what was needed in this world, and she hoped you would never ever lose what made you so special, so unique and interesting to her. You weren’t some passing fancy though, no, she had had plenty of those in twenty years and it had always ended quickly and messy; with you, it was something true and real and she wished to never be parted from your side until her last day on this Earth.

The sun would set soon over the horizon; you had lost too much time at the studio you thought, but you weren’t about to be a driving hazard simply to get to that spot you knew, to risk both your lives for something that you could go up to the rooftop of the building and watch while holding each other close. If you got there in time, it would be wonderful but if you didn’t it was perfectly alright as well, as long as Avis was happy with what you had arranged in the five minutes it had taken you to leave your office and to go down to the canteen, you would be content. Swerving the car onto the freeway you rested comfortably against the back of your seat, watching from the corner of your eye as Avis turned the dials of the radio until she found a song she liked, returning her head to its previous position over her hand, her feet tapping to the rhythm while humming. There was a gentle tug on your coat, and you looked down for a moment to see her free hand playing with the hem of it absentmindedly, moving her eyes between you and the road ahead every couple of minutes. Those deep chocolate irises observing you, drinking your every movement, made you blush like a schoolgirl, cheeks and neck turning a pale pink even though her touches were nothing but harmless twirlings of the fabric in between her fingers, her skin never brushing yours as to not make you lose concentration on the road.

The spot you were driving to wasn’t really that far away, but the secondary roads were a nightmare to get through and Avis was about to find out as you took the exit that pointed out Runyon Canon. She sat a bit straighter when she saw the sign, dropping her hand to her side, and turned her head to look at you with a raised eyebrow. She hadn’t personally been there but the boys at the studio had mentioned that there were a few nice picnic spots with tables and everything, and as much as she liked the idea of having one with you she was also slightly disappointed that you had decided on some place where there would no privacy whatsoever. She liked being alone with you, no families with screaming children or passersby that would go climbing early next morning, she wanted it to be just the two of you, but she wasn’t going to voice her opinion. You had done things for her that no one else had, she could go through this for you. The first pothole got you both off guard as the light began to dim, your foot slipping from the brakes a little as Avis fell slightly on her side, having to use her hands to stabilise herself on your arm and shoulder. A curse echoed in the cabin of the car as she tried to sit back on her side, but the bumps were making her slide off the leather due to the fabric of her dress and without a second thought she pulled the black skirt from under her thighs hoping that her bare flesh against the seat would help her stay in place. Of course, you had not been expecting that and when you turned your head to see what on earth she was doing you were hit with the sight of the fabric bunched up around her hips, those shapely and delightful legs displayed in nude stockings before you, and oh God, those voluptuous breasts of hers were practically spilling out of her skewed blouse. Without thinking twice, you braked in the middle of nowhere, a cloud of dust enfolding the car, Avis’s body jerking forward before falling back against the seat.

-Y/N! A little warning next time. Is this where you wanted to take me? I’m not saying that it’s not pretty honey, but…

The words were drowned by your mouth on hers, the hand brake nearly forgotten in your hurry to get your hands on her body. You had been fighting hard against your better judgment, but it seemed that you had lost, though you could not say you were saddened by it, not when your hands were holding onto her hips under all that bunched up fabric, digging your fingers hard on her hot flesh, lips on lips pushing her back against the seat without realising it. Avis had not even thought of the fact that she would be half undressed in your presence and your reaction was perhaps a bit too forward for her at first, mainly shocked by it, but she wasn’t about to complain when she had been craving you all day and hadn’t had the chance to have a quicky in her office. When she parted her lips to grant you access, she was pleasantly surprised by the force with which you sucked on her tongue and bit down on her lower lip. The moan that resonated from her making her entire body vibrate, her hands digging hard into the leather to keep herself upright. Just as suddenly as you had assaulted her mouth you separated, eyes filled with such lust Avis thought she might drown in such passion, your body hovering over hers.

-If you want to actually get to the spot and have a nice date with me, I suggest you cover those legs or I’m going to bury myself between them and not let you out of this car until tomorrow morning.

-That’s not a bad prospect darling. That mouth of yours is quite talented.

-God Avis, I’m really trying here to not fuck your brains out, help me out, will you?

-Why would I? – her body pressed against yours, that delicious heat seeping though your thin dress as one of her hands lifted from the seat to rest over the one that was on her right hip, making it travel in between her legs until your fingers were barely an inch away from her centre. She was always warm, hot against your skin, but God, she was burning in between her legs, and your fingers could not help moving closer until they brushed the soaking lace. Avis’s head fell back at the contact, a groan filling up the cabin as you moved slowly up and down. She was absolutely drenched; this couldn’t have been just from now.

-You’ve been fantasizing about me have you not?

-Hmmm, yes. – a gasp escaped her when you pressed your thumb to her clit through her underwear, eyes rolling briefly to the back of her head. - Reversing roles, are we?

-You seemed to enjoy it the other day. – scrapping your teeth on her neck, Avis felt as if she might combust right there and then, your tongue licking the soft skin before your lips made their way to her ear. - How about we make a deal? You let me take you to that spot and we have a nice date, and I might be tempted to ravish you later. But only if those legs remain covered.

-Where are you taking me? – your hand stopped its motions over her centre, a quiet whine parting from Avis’s lips as she locked eyes with you, but your hand didn’t move from its spot on her inner thigh, ghosting over the flesh and drawing goosebumps and shivers that made her ache even more for you.

-I ask the questions today darling. Deal or not?

-Deal.

She could not lie, the prospect of you fucking her out in the wild with people barely a few feet away, hidden by trees or one of those big picnic tables, set her on fire and this whole act of her belonging to you, that possessiveness was just fucking amazing. Like the well-behaved lady she was she pushed as much of her dress as she could over her thighs, pressing them together without thinking to gain a bit of friction. Your body didn’t move away from her quiet yet though; the hand that had just been in between her legs when up to her collar, feather-like touches making the air in her lungs hitch, feeling how it moved down her sternum and over her breasts, bending your head until you could lick the swell of her left tit before you pushed yourself back into your seat leaving her absolutely flustered. She had taught you a trick or two on how to toy with people, and you weren’t about to waste this opportunity. Pushing the hand brake down and shifting into first gear the car began to move again, the potholes and bumps not helping Avis’s situation in the slightest, but you weren’t much better either, with the way her bosom jiggled and bounced you were actually finding it extremely hard to keep your end of the deal.

Finally, and you did send a prayer to the heavens for it, you saw the entrance to Runon Park and the designated area for picnics, but just before reaching it you swerved the car to the left and followed a slightly covered path for a mile or so, the trees tall and dense around you but allowing for the very last beams of light to still come through them, illuminating the way. Avis’s breath caught in her throat at the sight when you drove past the last tree, coming into a secluded clearing. All the lust and fire moved temporarily to the back of her mind as she took it all in from the way the canyon dropped into a deep abyss barely six feet from where you were parking to the vast green that seemed to go on into the horizon, endless and absolutely breathtaking. This… this was better than what she could have ever imagined. Without thinking, without command, her body stepped out of the car almost as if she was suddenly living in slow motion, the skirt falling around her legs properly, but she barely registered it with her hand on the warm steel of the hood, each step she took crunching twigs under her heels. How had she lived in Hollywood for over twenty years, and had never been here? The warm breeze caressed her face, its waves carrying the fresh aromas of pines and wood that melted against her skin as the floral accents from the very first violets and snowdrops danced around her in a harmony of fragrances that filled every cell in her body.  

Under her feet deep emerald green grass grew up until the very edge of the cliff and in a need to see she stepped forward until she was barely a foot from it, the abyss deep and terrifying but so stunning that she could not feel fear. Looking to the West a waterfall burst from the rocks, its waters strong and transparent as they poured and fell down to the valley more than two hundred feet beneath her, where a river of powerful currents and acute meanders adorned the scenery, the sounds the wind carried kissing Avis’s ears in sweet gurgles and murmurs of water that filled her heart with such emotion that she could not even comprehend what she was seeing. Every tree, every rock and bush were placed almost strategically as if God had taken his time with this spot only for you both to see. She could not understand how the plateaus where she stood along with the one across the valley were so full of green, trees as tall as buildings gracing the world with a rainbow of greens and browns as they grew, while beneath them rocks as red as fire stood, the careful lines and topography of curves, columns and arches contrasting with the weeping willows and fragile riverbend plants that grew in between the rivulets of bluish crystal waters at the bottom of the valley. Looking down to the East the world was a song of fire, the canyon going on for miles with both gentle curves and acute angles that would have been hidden under seas of green had the river not carved its path deep within them.

Avis couldn’t steer her eyes from it all, observing the way the leaves swayed in the breeze, white butterflies dancing tenderly between the petals of white daffodils and red poppies, the splatters of colour spread throughout the grass in mosaics. There was a ruffle coming from some bushes across the valley, and Avis watched intently as a deer walked out into the evening sun, standing tall and proud with its growing antlers close to the edge as it almost held her gaze, its magnificence making her wonder if she had ever seen one in the flesh. Crossing the streaks of blue that still remained in the skies above, eagles cut through the winds, wings spread wide as their loud calls accompanied the flow of the waterfall. Her eyes had never seen such beauty; the world had always seemed like such a fast paced universe to live in that she had never taken the time to simply stop and step aside from the current of people, but standing here, where nature seemed to carry on without noticing humans even existed, was as if she was seeing her home for the first time, and she could only think about how beautiful it all was. There were eagles nowhere else but on this planet, bees and dragonflies could only buzz and sway over rivers and fields of daisies in this planet the same way that roses and pine trees could only grow and thrive here and she had never realised it until now, when the world was quiet and society laid miles away.

A pair of hands came to lay on her waist, startling her ever so slightly before they wrapped themselves around her as your head rested over her shoulder, and in murmured words you told her to look over to the waterfall. Her head returned to the West slowly, unsure of where her eyes should be, but upon landing them on the spot, both of you watched enthralled as the sun began its last descent. The sky was dressed in thin veils of pink and purple silk before the last golden glow of the day bathed the earth, it’s warmth melting against Avis’s face, only disturbed by the elusive touch of green beams that only a few handful of people had ever managed to catch, its perfect light turning the red sandstones and crystal waters into a world of molten gold and emeralds before it all turned dark and the sky above began to blend its indigo blue into a deep navy one. High up in the sky was now a full moon, lighting the world with white rays as to not leave it in a deep terrifying darkness, all the animals vanishing from the land to return home while others woke up to start their day. The world had turned silver.  

-Was it worth the wait? – your voice whispered in her ear as your hot breath sent a shiver down her spine in a reflex response to your touch.

-Words cannot describe it Y/N. This place… how did you find it?

-When you are lonely and homesick you try to find places that bring you comfort, that make you feel as if you’ve never left. I found this one in one of those moments. I had been driving my old car around, getting familiar with the roads, and I took a wrong turn that turned out to be a right one.

-It’s beautiful.

-It was beautiful, now that you are here, it’s perfect.

Romance had seemed such a soppy affair, with all the compliments and shows of affection and love, but by George, was Avis absolutely adoring it all, red as a beet at your words and so very thankful that it was night, and you could not fully see it. Her hands were resting over yours, rubbing and gently moving her fingers over your soft skin as you both remained standing there observing it all, taking in the scenery for a moment or two. The waterfall seemed to have slowed down its incessant pour, the water falling gently from rock to rock, the once bright green moss now reflecting the moonlight as if they were diamonds framing the silvery currents, the grass vast seas of white as the breeze moved them from side to side. She could stay here forever, build a small wooden cottage and live with you, hidden from the world, not having to worry about whether people would approve of you, the doctors unable to call her and remind her that she had a husband in a comatose state, no Meg to think about, no studio to run, just you, her and nature. A most wonderful dream indeed. With a deep breath, the pine fragrance filling her lungs, she felt you turn her around, an astonished gasp escaping her parted lips when she saw a checkered blanket over the ground along with the basket and the mesh bag, a turned-off lantern resting on the side. You were quick, she thought, or maybe she had been truly lost in her surroundings, either way, she was pleasantly surprised by it all and let you guide her to the makeshift dinning room.

Your heels came off, resting on the side, away from the blanket, and in a similar manner Avis removed hers, letting her body fall as gently as she could onto the ground, tucking her legs under her while your flowy dress covered your crossed ones. It wasn’t supper by candlelight, but at least the lantern gave enough illumination when you turned it on, with the lighter that you had picked up from Avis’s purse, that you wouldn’t have to bring the fork an inch from your face to see what on earth you were biting on, the mesh bag falling onto the grass as Avis pulled the bottles and left the champagne over the blanket to work on opening the wine. You both worked in silence, containers resting in between you before you began to remove the lids, the wonderful smell of roasted potatoes covered in gravy and steak surrounding you both while the coolness of the sandwiches remained on the side, a big bowl of Caesar salad in the middle so you could share. Putting the fruit back in the basket so they wouldn’t be in the way. The cork of the wine came out with a pop, Avis pouring the deep cherry liquid into one of the paper cups and passing it to you before serving herself, raising it in the air.

-Cheers.

-Cheers. – it was utterly delicious. You were not much of a wine person if you were being honest, you were perhaps more modern or glamorous, always ordering cocktails, but the fruity aftertaste it left on your tongue was magnificent, simply delicious and lifting your eyes from the cup you could see Avis was enjoying it just as much.

-So, what’s on the menu for dinner tonight?

-We have Nick’s special, of course, steak with potatoes and salad, and on the side some chicken sandwiches because I was not very sure what you fancied. Maybe I went a little bit overboard, but my grandma used to say that it was best to have leftovers than to leave hungry.

-Your grandma was a very wise lady. Should I go first and try the salad?

-Whatever you desire, etiquette is not compulsory here, darling. – picking up her fork she stabbed a piece of chicken practically drenched in the dressing along with some lettuce and using her left hand as a barrier so the food wouldn’t satin her dress should it fall, she popped it all in her mouth. God, it was delicious, the lettuce crunchy and fresh, a crouton she hadn’t seen shattering in her mouth in a perfect balance of salty as the parmesan melted on her tongue along with the juicy chicken, her starving stomach taking it all as if it was a heavenly meal. She probably hadn’t noticed but she had moaned loud and clear, eyes briefly closing as she let the simple flavours assault her, but you had, and you could not say whether you were happy she liked so much or far too bewitched by her that even the slightest noise was music to your ears, as if you were listening to the London Philharmonic, a chuckle escaping your lips as you took some of the salad yourself.

-God, I can’t remember the last time I had something like this.

-If you are reacting like that to just the salad, I’m worried the potatoes and gravy will kill you.

-I’m not. You know how to resuscitate me with that tongue of yours. – she had said it with such a nonchalant tone before bringing another bite of the salad to her mouth that you chocked on your wine, a splatter or two landing on your cheeks. One point to Avis she thought, watching your flushed face as you wiped the specks of deep red liquid from your skin, a naughty smirk painting her lips that’s she hid quite well behind her own cup of wine. – Are you alright? Did something go down the wrong pipe?

-Don’t act as if you didn’t just almost kill me, but yes, I’m fine.

-Me? I haven’t touched you, honey. I think you know very well when and how I could send you to the heavens… or hell, whatever you prefer.

-Are trying to seduce me?

-Is it working?

That raised eyebrow was such a turn on for some reason, but Avis didn’t move from her spot, simply bent over to stick her fork on some of the steak, doing the same motion with her left hand as before but your eyes were clearly staring at another part of her body that wasn’t her face. You would have to get professional help to understand why you were so goddamn in love with her breasts; what sort of magic did they possess to make you shiver and burn at just the simple sight of them? It was playful banter, a game of cat and mouse that you knew she loved, but this time you didn’t answer, simply sat back and watched her chew on the meat, the sound of her humming in approval at the flavour reaching your ears. You could have prepared a better picnic, you could have brought candles and dried rose petals and made it all far more romantic but there was that spark in Avis’s eyes that told you it was perfect. With her hand left hand now resting over the grass she let her fingers rub and gently move in between the twigs and tiny little flowers, the moonlight reflecting on top of your head as the orange light from the lantern cast shadows over your face. She wondered for a moment who did you look like most; was it that grandmother you had mentioned or perhaps your father? Who did you inherit that nose of yours from or those blond locks that swayed in the warm breeze around the nape of your neck? A question assaulted her suddenly, out of curiosity more than anything else.

-When was the last time you talked with your mother?

-Oh. – it caught you off guard the drastic change of topic, but you couldn’t say that you were mad. It was natural for her to want to know more about you, after all, you had kept most of your private life secured away, afraid that she might find you too much of a foreigner or maybe simply lose interest since you were nothing like her acquaintances. But you wouldn’t have brought her here if you were not ready to share, you thought, knowing how much this whole place meant. – Well, I wrote to her last week, so I think that the response should arrive in maybe a couple of weeks.

-You don’t phone her?

-I can’t afford international calls. I do try though, on Christmas or birthdays, but sometimes I can’t. So, letters are the best method.

-Where are you from? You’ve talked about your home, but you’ve never told me. – grabbing a handkerchief Avis picked half of a chicken sandwich, eyes never leaving your face as your eyes glazed with memories untold, deep secrets you cherished in your heart, a tender smile growing on your lips.

-P/B. We are from a tiny village in the middle of nowhere, a couple of hours from the capital actually. I can’t say that we live on a farm but some of my neighbours do. It’s not as exciting as coming from New York, I’m afraid.

-No, but I’m sure is more beautiful. This place reminds you of home you said, and I can’t help but wonder just how much.

-Well, vast fields surround the village, and they seem endless as they go on and on into the horizon. – with your fork you stabbed one of the potatoes, biting down on it as steam curled in front of you, the thin layer of gravy mixing beautifully with the rosemary and the fat that coated the vegetable, swallowing before continuing. - In winter they are all brown and yellow as the farmers prepare the soil for the next sowing, although in some of the areas there are already tiny little sprouts growing before December is over. They might not look pretty at first, but if you go out early in the morning, when the sun is dawning, the olive trees rest among a thin fog that leaves very fragile layers of ice over the branches, and morning dew drops form over the grass that’s beginning to break from the ground. It usually doesn’t snow, but the very few times it has it’s a perfect scenery. White just never ceases to appear in front of your eyes and the air is so cold and crisp but so fresh and the smell of the chimneys just make it all so wholesome, so like home. - You were lost in a world of your own, the memories forming before your eyes as if you were standing right there, on the edge of the village seeing it all, hearing the loud voices of your neighbours and waving to the older married couples that were working on their lands, the cold almost numbing your fingertips. Avis had forgotten about the food and was simply resting her hands on the ground with her head lulled to one side observing the way your eyes were zoned out, your fingers moving gently as if you could show her where you were pointing at.

-In springtime though everything is gorgeous. There’s green everywhere, the trees that had laid naked amongst all that cold now blooming under the warm sun, flowers overtaking the grass as the cereals that had been planted grow tall, sometimes taller than me. There are red and white poppies, and so many four-o’clocks simply sprouting from the sandy grounds. My mother loves them and grows them in the garden in a variety of colours. Then of course there are the pines and olive trees that no matter where you look there’s mosaics of, and we use them for shade when we’ve been working out on the fields or in the garden, to cool down and have a bite. There are so many colours and so many insects. Our house gets filled with butterflies and bees that settle on my mother’s roses to rest and that drink from the tiny little yellow blossoms that will later become tomatoes. And the air… it’s so rich with fruits and vegetables and those wonderful floral fragrances that one could stay out all day and never get tired of it.

-It’s sounds like paradise.

-It’s far from it, but its home. We don’t have waterfalls or big deep valleys carved into the stone, but we have fields of lavender and hawks that fly high above, and slow-moving rivers where ducks and swans sometimes bathe. We can see roe deer jumping from between the trees and rabbits that rush around without a care in the word, building their burrows in those areas where the ground has not been planted so it can rest. Coming here makes me realise that there’s always a piece of home if you look for it, no matter how many miles separate you. It’s in your blood, in everything that you are and that you do. One might not realise it but it’s always there and it’s up to us to reject it and hide it or to embrace it and adapt it as we grow older, to never forget what makes us who we are. I did not grow up in big cities or high up on mountains, but I have lived surrounded by nature and dipping my feet into the warm sea, listening to the waves crashing against the rocks, filling my lungs with the salty breeze. I have walked among orange blossoms and lemon trees; I have been in nameless places in the middle of nowhere, but it was in those moments that I felt at peace.

-So why did you come here?

-Because one can’t stay stuck in the same place forever. I had a chance to make something for myself, to build a life that wasn’t the one my mother or my grandmother lived and as painful as it was, I took it. You left Northport to come here.

-True, but what I built was ruins. Nothing ever lasted before it was knocked down.

-I wouldn’t say that. People know you for you, not for Ace or Ellen or Dick. You have made a name for yourself even if the circumstances were not ideal or pleasant, but when they hear your name, they see you, not you with your husband or with a friend, just you. You might be standing over rubble, but you are not letting it keep you on the ground, you are picking up the pieces and making yourself a staircase to the top. You are running a studio and are going to release the best film in history, I think you have done pretty fantastic from that girl that you were back in Northport.

-How do you always see all the good, positive side of things?

-I usually don’t, but I have seen what sadness and hurt have done to you and I want to make it right. You deserve joy and love, not harsh words or bitter situations. You are doing what no one else has had the balls to do and I know that that girl who moved here years ago would be beaming with pride. – that girl that had been lost and miserable, Avis thought, would she truly be proud? She had had dreams that were shattered, a whole future shaped out before her that vanished into nothing when the talkies came, and then Ace and Claire happened and life just turned into a sea of habits and nasty looks, and that innocent girl became a not so innocent woman, but still filled with sadness and disappointment. And yet she felt as if you were right. That young thing from Northport would have never dreamt of running a studio or making a controversial film but foremost she would have never imagined she would find someone like you, the right person at the right time, just a bit later in life than what she had expected.

-I wish I could see the world though your eyes, I bet they are the most magnificent lenses anyone could wish for. Nothing is ever truly bad or horrid to you, there’s always hope and light at the end of the tunnel. With all those compliments you are giving me you are going to end up spoiling me if you are not careful. I might get used to this treatment. But how about you tell me what is it you want to build? What do you expect from life?

-I don’t know and that’s the beauty of it. My future is a blank canvas. I can be anything I desire, at least that’s what my mother says, from a secretary, as I am right now, to a nurse or a painter. I chose the paths I tread and admit my errors when I take wrong turns because that’s how one builds something worth fighting for. But if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you are the only person that I have painted on that canvas, the only thing that I’m sure I want as a constant for the rest of my existence. I don’t know where I might be in five or ten years, hell, I don’t even know If I will still be in contract at the studio in six months, but I do know that wherever I am, I will be beside you. – Had your eyes ever been this deep? Had they ever shone with such beauty and determination? Avis wasn’t sure, but under the warm light of the lantern they were open doors to your heart, to every feeling and desire that grew and wrapped around your chest, and she was suddenly pulled into them, falling and drowning in their abyss. Her hands moved the food gently to the side, the containers covered halfway to avoid spills, allowing her body to crawl on all four in your direction, knees digging hard onto the ground underneath the blanket leaving the imprint of tiny pebbles over the skin until she stopped right in front of you, the soft skin of her palms coming to rest on your cheeks as she drew your body to hers.

-And I want you with me. Forever.

There was no room for words anymore, your heart skipping a beat before it began to race as the feather light touches of her lips on yours, hovering but never actually pressing them, drove your hands to hold onto her hips, digging hard over the fabric of her dress as your bodyweight fell over hers. Gravity granted you a helping hand this time and as she pulled you even closer her mouth landed over yours in a tender kiss. Somewhere in the distance a loud coo was heard, echoing in the air around you both but Avis never parted herself from you, absolutely addicted to the way your carmine mixed with the rich tones of the wine and the saltiness of the gravy, leaving an aftertaste on the tip of her tongue that was simply you, your sweet essence. Breaking the profound navy blanket that covered the skies, a magnificent horned owl flew over the crystal waters at the edge of the cliff, flapping its enormous wings hundreds of feet above the ground, casting deep black shadows over the grass before perching itself high on a tree, observing in the night, protecting. Neither of you was bothered by its presence, you were all animals at the end of the day, creatures that had evolved up to this point in the history of the Earth forgetting that before cities and societies existed love was shown among the trees, on the edge of riverbends under the scorching sun or the coolness of the night. One of your hands moved to Avis’s back, the other one resting on the grass as your bodyweight pushed her gently on top of the blanket, the top of her head pocking from the corner of it and in contact with the now deep green that surrounded her.  

The new position forced your lips to part, Avis’s chest raising and falling in hurried breaths, and as you moved your legs to straddle her, your foot accidentally kicked the lantern. The flame dying as your hands travelled to her sweet face, left you both bathed in only moonlight, the warm breeze caressing your bodies along with the sound of the flowing waters, crickets playing their quiet songs in the distance. Inching your fingers closer to the nape of her neck, feeling her soft ginger curls, they moved nearly of their own accord to massage her scalp, touching the cold metal pins she was wearing as you scratched your nails over her sensitive skin. It was delicious the way she hummed under you, her hands running up your back to your shoulders to keep you as close as possible to her, shivering as the heat of your body seeped through her stifling outfit. Your lips were torture on her neck, kissing the shape of it from her jawline to the hollow between her collarbones, licking and tasting her sweet skin as your fingers worked tenderly on removing as many hairpins as they could find, nibbling and scraping with your teeth. She needed you to mark her, to take her and make her yours. The way your light touches lingered on her flesh, delightful and thrilling as they drew goosebumps and gentle tingles on her limbs, made her brain slowly lose its train of thought and simply give into every sensation. Releasing the last pin, your fingers threaded deliciously in between her locks, pulling on her hair slightly harder than you had planned though she didn’t seem to mind. The motion had forced her head to lull back, a gasp escaping Avis’s ajar lips as the grip on your shoulder became stronger, her nails threatening to rip your dress.

You had never desired anything more in your life than to keep her in your arms for all eternity. That sweet spot under her ear was assaulted by your lips, the tip of your tongue tracing the outline of her earlobe, your hot breath tickling her skin and causing a mix between a giggle and a groan to slide from her mouth. Painstakingly slowly you moved along her jaw, lips delivering feather-like touches before you moved down to her neck again, sucking hard on her pulse point, delighted in the rumbling moan that she made as her throat vibrated beneath your lips. It was utterly gratifying to see how responsive she was to your touch, to the way your hands moved from her hair to her shoulders, fingering the neckline of her blouse, your fingertips barely brushing her skin and yet her pupils were so dilated that it was a miracle if you could actually get a glimpse of that gorgeous brown of hers. Dropping her hands to your hips her gaze was intense, watching your every move as you sat back over her thighs and began to trace the outline of her breasts and stomach through the fabric until they reached the hem, an obstacle that you had to remove, you thought. Avis felt you pushing the item gently off her abdomen, agreeing silently with you that it needed to come off. She desired to feel your skin on her skin, to have you as close as it was humanly possible, and so she pushed her upper body off the ground, resting its weight on her elbows as she guided your hands to push the garment off her midriff and arms until the blouse simply flew over the grass a foot or so away.  

God, she was wearing a nearly see-through corselette. There was a deep groan vibrating in your throat at the sight, the translucent satin cupping her breasts so beautifully, so enticingly that the heat that was coursing through your veins nearly turned into fire, Avis’s rosy nipples stiff and fighting against the material. The boning of the garment hugged the curve of her waist as if it was made perfectly suited to her body shape, and perhaps it was, the olive kissed skin coming through the material that built the bodice, flowers and fallen petals embroidered in deep blues and greens, encasing her form. It was beautiful, you could not help but stare at it for a moment wondering how one came across such things, but your attention returned quickly to Avis, the heat of her body seeping to the palms of your hands from where they rested under her bust. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, bosom rising and falling in rapid breaths in anticipation, unknowing of your next move as your eyes bore into her skin, hot and cold shivers running down her arms and back. Your thumbs rubbed the underside of each breast causing Avis’s breaths to mix with her loud pants as your hands journeyed higher, cupping her tits graciously, the plump flesh overflowing from your palms as you began to knead them, dropping your lips to her now exposed collarbone, teeth scraping the flesh and leaving angry red marks that your tongue quickly soothed.

How could you drive her to such insanity every single time? It made no sense how well you already knew what made her mind go blank, mad with desire and lust, every spot in her body that could draw out moans and gasps, how much pressure to use, how much strength and roughness she required or wanted. Bruises on her body were a marvellous sight for her to wake up to, your lips sucking on the skin of her chest and the top of her ample bosom until the purple began to form, your tongue running over them to calm her flesh, but she would never ask you to stop, finding that gentle pain simply delicious, addicting as your head moved to the valley between her breasts, letting your tongue run over the translucent fabric until it reached her left nipple. The feeling of it rolling in your mouth alongside the friction the material provided was making Avis’s core burn hotter and higher, her left hand holding onto your hair while the other grabbed onto the blanket, her knuckles almost white. The stiff peak twirled around your tongue with ease, your lips sucking hard as your teeth scrapped the sensitive bud, a quiet scream making its way out of her mouth before she could stop it. She was always so vocal, so needy and ready for you. As your head was busy with her left breast your hand had been kneading her right one, but its mission had changed after noticing the way Avis moved under your weight, travelling down her side to the waistband of her skirt in search for the zipper, that was quite conveniently resting on her right hip.

Much to your dismay, and hers, you had to let go of Avis’s nipple, a gentle pop resonating from your mouth as you pushed your body onto the blanket to get rid of the black pencil skirt that prevented her from properly spreading her legs. The garment’s zip slid like butter, both of your hands pulling it down her legs as she lifted her hips off the ground to help you, leaving her matching knickers on display for your eyes to feast on. You were sure you had just had a mini heart attack at the sight of the translucent fabric, her folds practically exposed before you. There was a hunger inside you, a monstrous appetite simply for her, for every single inch of her that you could not satiate, both your hands crawling upwards on each side of her body, over the blanket, your legs moving in between hers to spread her open. Part of Avis was resting over the grass while the other was on top of the checkered fabric, but if the feeling of the cool plants on her skin bothered her she did not mention it, perhaps too lost in what you were doing to her as you hovered over her, lips so close to hers that she could taste the wine on your breath. Her eyes locked with yours, feeling the way her chest pressed against yours with each hurried breath she took, the moonlight reflecting and making her deep brown orbs glow even if deep inside them there was a light of their own, a veil of love and faith that made your heart swell with pride. You and only you had managed to do what no one else had; earn her trust.

Your lips landed softly over hers, your tongue dancing over her now non-existent carmine as you asked her silently for permission to explore her mouth once again, as if you didn’t have it memorised already, but she granted it, nevertheless.  It was a battle for what little control you were willing to give to Avis this time, losing to her as she sucked on your lower lip, her hands holding you in place with her overheated palms on your cheeks. The air was filled with whimpers and whines, answers to your every little touch that only increased in pitch as you broke the kiss, one single drop of blood falling onto Avis’s own lips from where she had bit you down a bit harder, your mouth leaving a thin trail of the red warm liquid as you moved down her throat, vanishing as you pecked her chest. You had barely registered the way your blood was staining her skin, too focused on burying your tongue in the valley of her breasts, but the corselette was in the way and you could hardly reach that delicious skin that was calling out to you in whimpered whispers. Your hands were shaking slightly as you lifted your body from hers to work on the first few hooks of the garment, her ample tits inching closer to freedom as you unclasped each fastening, bouncing and jiggling under your working hands until they finally escape and stared at you in all their glory. You just couldn’t get enough of that creamy flesh and pink hard nipples. The mix between a gasp and moan that Avis produced was utterly sinful as you licked the skin and sucked around her right peak, small red marks painting her flesh before you devoured her, nibbling and pulling on her stiff nipple as your hand raked your nails over her left breast, to the point that only a score of screams could be heard from her.

-Please, Y/N.

To hear her pleading was such a thrilling sound, so unlike the Avis that everyone saw at the studio. And who were you to not listen when she was so sweet under your tongue, so responsive to the way your hands held onto her hips to keep her from thrashing around as you sucked and twirled her nipple until her pleas were finally needy enough, imploring even. You had made a deal after all. Under different circumstance you would have undressed her completely, drank her in until you were absolutely wasted in her essence, but this clearing was still a public area, anyone could come here; you doubted they would, but it could still happen, and you were not willing to let strangers see Avis in such a compromising position. Still, you released her breast after one final nibble that had her eyes rolling to the back of her head momentarily and began to kiss the fabric of her bodice all the way to her pubic bone, the material showing the wet spots you had left behind as you licked and pecked. If you took the lantern and gave it to Avis, she was sure she could light it with her bare hands from the way her skin and blood burnt high, scorching every cell of her being. You were inching closer and closer to where she needed you the most, your lips dancing from her left hip to her right, brushing your kisses so close to her clit that she thought she would go insane if you didn’t touch her, eat her alive. In a quick motion one of her hands held onto your hair, pulling roughly as if she could motion you to obey her, but you were quick to push it away and moved to hover your body over hers. With your hand you grabbed her face roughly, forcing her to face you.

-Do you want me to fuck you, Avis?

-Yes. – she was utterly breathless, lust filling every pore in her body as your domineering energy laced your words, sending shivers down her spine as she felt your other hand lazily moving between her ginger locks. Upon grabbing a handful, you pulled hard, a gasp muttered almost against your lips as the pain rippled through Avis’s frame, turning into such pleasure that she thought she might cum on the spot.

-Then behave. We’ve reversed roles, remember? I could have you writhing in pleasure for hours or I could refuse to touch you until you begged and cried for me to eat you out. – God, she loved you, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as your fingers traced the outline of her folds through her underwear, absolutely drenched and so impossibly hot to the touch. – Is this what you want?

-More.

-More? You mean something… like this? – your skilled fingers moved the lacy garment aside, freeing her completely to the warm air of the night. Dipping them properly in between her wet lips, you slid them up and down as slowly as you could, taking in the way her left hand shot out to grab your upper arm, the other one laid hidden under the bunched-up blanket, groans and moans echoing in your ears as her eyes fluttered close. Her neck was right under your mouth, a slow tender lick coming from the hollow between her collarbones to right under her chin, cleaning up the blood you had left there only a few minutes earlier, drawing out a quiet whimper. It was borderline torture, it had to be, the way you were moving at a snail’s pace, and she knew you knew, a smirk on your lips when she opened her eyes with a pleading look.

-Please, Y/N, don’t tease me.

-It’s not enough? Maybe I can do something about it. – your motions stopped completely, the frustration at the lack of friction making her whine. With your lips brushing her ear you whispered lustfully. - Apologise and I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Just one word, Avis.

-I’m sorry. I’m sorry Y/N! Please, please.

-Well done, darling.

She almost missed the pain on her scalp when you released her hair, but there wasn’t much room for her to think when she felt your lips on her inner thighs, licking the soft skin and kissing your way up to the joint between her hip and her wet folds, her breath hitching in her lungs in anticipation. The instant your tongue slid over them she felt as if she was about to pass out, her eyes rolling to the back on her head, ripping what grass she could grasp with her fist. It didn’t matter how many times you tasted her; she was the most delicious salty meal you could ever have, and there was a perfectly cooked steak maybe two feet from you both, but it could not fill you up the way Avis did. The laps you were doing on her drew out moans and yelps from deep within her, her legs trembling already, hips buckling to try and get as much friction as she could. To keep her still you placed a hand on her lower abdomen, reaching with the tip of your tongue the base of her clit. She was close, you could feel it in the way her thighs were beginning to shake ever so slightly, her moans higher and higher in pitch but they were still not quite there yet. There were wrinkles in the blanket that were digging on your knees, but you cared very little, adding your fingers to the upwards-downwards motion as to coat them in her juices and make sure you didn’t hurt her, though with how your face and upper thighs were practically drowning in her arousal you doubted it could happen.

-God, Y/N, more. Fuck.

Two fingers went deep inside her, pumping gently in and out to let her adjust, your tongue having moved higher until her swollen bundle was twirling lazily in your mouth, her fingers on your head out of habit and to keep you well in place. There was a thin layer of sweat covering Avis’s body that made her glow under the moonlight, her skin flustered and the most erotic shade of red your eyes had ever seen, her head lulling back with each movement from your fingers, pants and yelps echoing against the trees. You should keep her quiet, she could draw the attention of passersby, if there were any, but you couldn’t quite do it, it was just delectable to hear her lost in passion. Without a care in the world. Her walls clenched around you, a sign that you needed to increase the pace of your hand as your lips sucked on her clit, feeling how she was coming undone piece by piece at a faster speed that you had anticipated. She must have really worked herself up throughout the day to be so desperate for release. The hand that was holding her in place pressed a little harder, mixing with the third finger that you had just pushed in, adding to the pleasure that had been steadily building higher and higher, skyrocketing it. Her throat felt raw as she screamed over and over, losing her mind under your ministrations, the tension building as her toes curled and her heels dug onto the earth. With one hard nibble on her clit, along with your fingers curling, pressing almost against the one on her abdomen and she fell completely apart.

-Y/N! YES! AHHH! YES! YES!

There was fire in her veins, white hot flames spreading through every cell, every limb, electric shocks travelling from the top of her head to the tip of her toes and fingers, her head thrashing up and down as she held onto your head, buckling her hips to meet your pace as she rode out her orgasm. Her eyes were open wide for an instant, the sky above peppered with millions of tiny sparkles of light, but she was unsure whether they were real or simply brought on by the pleasure that was rocking her entire body. Either way, she didn’t have enough sense left to think, let alone differentiate between reality and dreams. Your punishing pace never faltered, pants and screams mixing until her juices exploded all over your face, her mouth hanging open in utter silence as her back arched of the ground. So the hand pressing on the abdomen really did work, , a little something you had read in a very inappropriate book, you thought as she squirted all over you, your tongue lapping up and down and around your fingers to make sure you were capturing every single drop until there was nothing left, drinking her in. Your mouth had left her overstimulated clit alone, kissing the soft skin of her thighs and knees as you gently helped her come down from her high, fingers slowing down after a moment or two until her legs stopped trapping your head, dropping onto the floor with gentle trembles, the hand on your head slipping onto the ground. She was completely spent, her head clouded in desire and afterglow passion that kept her laying on the floor panting for air. Pulling out, you used to blanket to wipe your fingers clean, crawling beside her until your head rested over your arm, rubbing Avis’s shoulder in an attempt to calm her racing heart and to let her know you were still there, that you hadn’t left her.

-Well, that was fun, wasn’t it?

-Hmmm – all that she could muster at the moment was to open her eyes lazily, turning her head to look at you as the waves of pleasure left her body, the hand that had been holding onto the blanket finally freeing it form its grip, rubbing your thigh over your dress. – It was fantastic, doll. And you say that Ernie didn’t put you on contract?

-I haven’t lost my touch it seems. And yes, there wasn’t much market for me, I’m afraid.

-Fools, all fools. Trust me, baby, if you ever do lose it, I’ll be the first to inform you.

-Good to know. I was wondering, honey, where did you get this underwear? It’s gorgeous.

-It’s actually tailored. I wanted something special, and I went to my favourite store to see what they could do, and we came up with this. I wanted the flowers in gold and white, but they didn’t stand out enough, so we settled on blue and green. Did you notice what flowers they are?

-I’m afraid not, I was too busy staring at your magnificent breasts. – a loud laugh burst from her throat, floating in the air around you as she tapped your thigh in amusement. It was a gift the way you made her adore herself the same way you worshipped her body, as if she was a work of art. After a moment it died down, leaving a small smile on her swollen lips.

-Thank you for the compliment, dear. As for the flowers, they are orange blossoms.

-Avis.

-I know, I didn’t have to do this, but I wanted to. I wanted to have something that clearly means the world to you as closer to me as possible. I couldn’t risk a necklace with your picture, so I settled for the next best thing that would still keep you near my heart.

Your hands took hold on her waist, pulling her body impossibly close to yours, needing her in your space, in your personal bubble. With your left hand you turned her face towards you until your lips met hers, a sweet tender kiss to show her just how much you appreciated the gesture. You would never met someone like her, there was no one like Avis in this entire universe and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have found her. She still needed a minute or two to go back to normal, the lazy patterns your fingers were painting on her overheated skin soothing the sensations that were still clinging to her skin. Breaking the kiss your head hid in the crook of her neck, smelling her perfume and the soft hint of sweat that laid over her flesh, but Avis’s eyes were staring up at the sky. The deep universe that laid up above was sprinkled with billions of stars, glinting and shinning like diamond in the firmament, coloured clouds of dust swirling between them, around them, all over, in bright pinks, reds and purples, brushstrokes of baby blue blending among them. They formed a perfect line that crossed from North to South, and as the seconds went by perfect white swirls appeared all around as if an explosion of the most beautiful colour palette had just happened before her eyes, the universe in constant change right in front of her. She could spend all eternity laying here with your body pressed against hers, eyes taking in every little detail of the world around her, the deep emerald trees blending with the navy blue in perfect contrast. A gentle cooing reached her ears, eyes moving from left to right until they settled on the owl that had perched itself high up on a pine tree a while ago, its piercing yellow eyes watching her for an instant before they returned to the deep valley beneath you all. She had lost track of time she realised.

-Y/N?

-Hmm? – with a tender peck on the side of her neck you turned your head to look at her, observing how enthralled she was by the sky. It warmed your heart to see that even after so many years of Avis walking on this planet there were still secrets you could show her, images that her eyes had never laid upon and that you had the power to engrave in her mind.

-Have I told you that I love you?

-Once or twice, I think.

-Well, don’t you forget it, because I truly love you.

-As if I ever could when I love you just as much, Avis.

Her hands slid over yours, a small smile on her lips as she closed her eyes, letting your heat seep into her skin and bones. A cool breeze swept through the clearing, a deep shiver shaking Avis’s frame. It was beginning to get cold, and as you glanced down at your wristwatch you saw that it was nearly eleven, too late for you both after the day you had had. You didn’t want to unwrap yourself from Avis’s frame, but you didn’t want her to get sick, your hands pulling her into a sitting position to hook the corselette back in place, being extra careful not to touch her sensitive nipples. As she adjusted her bosom you crawled around picking up her skirt and blouse, hissing as you felt your knees land right over the spot where all of Avis’s hairpins had landed, cursing under your breath. You had half a mind to leave them there but you didn’t want Avis to ask about them when you were already ten miles away from here and have to drive back to not find them in the dark, so you went around feeling the blanket with your palms and putting them in your pocket until you were sure you had most of them. She was waiting patiently on her knees, the pearly beams bathing her skin as if she was dressed in silver. Your eyes stared at her tussled hair and bruised skin for an instant, contemplating your handy work with pride before handing her the clothes. As you dealt with the uneaten food and spilt cups of wine, from the corner of your eye, you watched Avis stepping into her skirt, the perfect curve of her ass so tempting, the black garment hugging her perfectly as she zipped it before pushing her head through the blouse, smoothing the fabric best she could once everything was in place, running a hand through her slightly knotted curls. Standing up you were about to put the basket back in the trunk when Avis stopped you.

-We still have the ride home; all this doesn’t have to go to waste. Just give it to me.

She had a new lightness to her, her feet almost skipping barefoot over the grass as she rounded the hood of the car to leave the basket on the passenger’s seat, heading your way to help you fold the blanket once you had put the champagne bottle in the trunk. Nature suited her, it gave her a new look on things, it made her feel alive, as if there was something much bigger than her that she had the opportunity to contemplate. Maybe one day the both of you could live in a secluded spot without a worry in the universe, only the trees or the waves witnesses to your love. Once Avis had put her shoes on your eyes there was nothing left on the ground, no sign of what had transpired in the last few hours, and as you were about to turn towards the car you felt for an instant that you could not quite go, that everything had been too perfect to lose it, to only keep it as a memory. Avis had noticed your slumped shoulders and was quick to wrap her arm around your waist and pull you close, simply watching it all. She wanted to say something but was unsure as to what, she wasn’t sure if you even needed to hear something, feeling as if she had to let you go through this on your own terms. So, she simply stood by you, her presence comforting as you once more said a mental goodbye to your home. It never got easier even if it wasn’t really your land or your country, but the sky above was always the same, no matter where you stood the same stars shone bright and glinted in the night and you knew that no matter many oceans separated you from your family they were looking up at the same firmament, a point of eternal union. With a quite sigh you promised yourself that you would come by soon, with Avis if you could.

Nodding against her shoulder Avis understood the movement and gently guided you towards the car, letting go of your hand after opening the door for you. With the both of you settled over the leather seats, the warmth of the cabin a welcome feeling on Avis’s slightly chilled skin you turned the engine on and carefully drove down the same path you had used to get there in the first place. “In the Mood” was playing on the radio, a cheery tune that quickly lifted your spirts, a fork with a piece of steak appearing in your line of vision. With a chuckled you took the meat, chewing even though it was cold, not that you minded, the rich flavours still there, just dulled a little. Hearing some ruffling beside you, you turned your attention away from the road for a moment to see Avis battling with a potato that kept sliding off her fork, the gravy dripping in thick drops. Reaching the edge of the woods, the sign for Runon Park shone bright against your car’s headlights, showing the way to those awful secondary roads that you needed to drive trough to get to the freeway, but the ride wasn’t as back. Avis kept feeding you every few minutes, a light banter and chatter settling between you over the music that the radio was playing, a sip from the bottle of wine smoothing everything down beautifully until there was only a little bit less of the red liquid left once you got to the freeway.

At that time of night there wasn’t much traffic, and you could slip your eyes of the road just a tad bit more to look at Avis as she gave you the final bite of the Caesar salad, moving on to the fruit. There were strawberries, bananas and what you suspected were slices of oranges, not entirely sure from your current angle. Avis showed you the fork with some of it, asking simply by raising her eyebrows, but you kindly declined, full already and not desiring a night of tossing and turning with indigestion, she could have it all if she wanted them. The radio began to play a different tune, something a bit slower, the atmosphere in the car adapting perfectly as you took exit 56, your companion resting her back against the seat while munching happily on what you were now sure were oranges. The Amberg residence was only a few streets away already, swerving the car around the corner, the night inching closer to an end that neither of you wanted, reality settling in between you once again, those stupid social norms that kept you from simply walking into her house and never leaving. The streetlamps shone bright as you came up to the gates, noticing strangely that they were slightly open, Mr. Breaton nowhere to be found, but you didn’t think much of it, he was an older man and it was already late, he could have simply gone home.

Parking on the side, in your unofficial spot, you turned the engine off. There was no beating around the bush, she was home, and she didn’t want to part ways with you, she simply wasn’t ready; there was a voice in the back of her mind that told her that she had to stay with you. Avis had turned her head in your direction, but the words she was about to say never made it out, your body already out of the car, rounding the hood to open the door for her. You didn’t want to leave her, of course, but you weren’t going to cry about it either, you preferred to cling to the memories of this evening, stretching your hand to help her out after pushing the door out of the way. She was pleasantly surprised by the gesture and smiled up at you, a charming “thank you” leaving her lips. Maybe it wouldn’t be as hard to convince as she had thought. Accompanying her to the front door the breeze that swayed around you both was turning colder by the minute, a very slow fog forming around the streetlamps. The hairs on the nape of your neck suddenly rose, your body filled with goosebumps, the strangest sensation spreading through your body, but you were quick to push it away. The porchlight was on, glowing softly as you walked the few steps that separated the garden from the front doors, coming to stand under its roof. It was rather childish the way you were both simply standing there, like a teenage couple that had just returned from watching a film or having a milkshake, wanting to stay with each other but knowing that the best thing was to part ways. And yet your hands never left hers.

-Here we are.

-Yes, here we are.

-You can stay if you want. There’s more than enough room in my bed for you. – her grip was a bit harder, hope blooming in her chest that perhaps tonight she wouldn’t have to go up to an empty bedroom and lay awake all alone.

-I know, but your daughter’s home and you need to sleep. I’ve kept you out long enough already.

-She doesn’t have to know.

-I don’t want to ruin the relationship you are building with her. I don’t want you to lie to her and break that bond that you’ve been working so hard on.

-I don’t want you to go. – her voice was so small; it sounded so weak and sad that you were tempted to stay and throw caution to the wind, but you knew that if you stayed Claire would go nuts at you both if she found out, and you were more than sure that you would find it very hard to not sleep with Avis again and she really needed to rest. Letting go of one of her hands you placed it on her cheek, rubbing the soft skin tenderly.

-I don’t want to either but think about it this way. If I go, you will have something look forward to the next time we met. True that it won’t be in a week, we will see each other again at the studio tomorrow, but I’m sure that you will look forward to it.

-Will you have lunch with me then?

-Of course. Now, go in and go to bed. I think I’ve left you satiated enough that sleep will find you easily.

-Cheeky. Thank you for tonight Y/N. I’m grateful that you showed me such a special place. I didn’t know there was anything like that here.

-It was my pleasure, believe me. Perhaps when the weather allows it, you and I can go visit a few more of those secret spots.

-I would love to. I’ll see you tomorrow?

-Tomorrow.

-I love you.

-I love you too.

These bittersweet kisses were not your favourites by far, after all partings never were even if they were only temporary, but at least you would go to bed with the flavour of her and the acidity of the oranges she had just had deep in your lips. Separating after a few seconds, she flashed you a bright smile before pulling her keys put of her purse and opening the doors. From underneath the threshold she blew you a kiss, your hand moving to catch it and place it close to your heart. The darkness of the hall swallowed her, and you stood there until the sound of the heavy oak closing in front of you boomed in your head. Perhaps you had been wrong, maybe you could stay tonight, just once, you thought, but your musings were interrupted by the sudden feeling that someone was watching you. For an instant you thought it might be Claire, but the curtains of her room were drawn and there were no shapes near the windows. Turning around you inspected the garden but there was no one there and yet the feeling only got worse, the fog settling faster than you liked as you made your way to your car as quickly as possible. Avis heard the rumbling of your motor from the bedroom, removing her clothes as she stepped into the bathroom, that feeling that you should have stayed stronger than before but there was nothing she could do about it now. Backing out from the house and back onto the road you didn’t see the figures dressed in black that came from the shadows, slipping into Avis’s house without an issue, hands signalling onto the empty street, or what might have been an empty street if a black Lincoln hadn’t unparked out of the blue, following you into the night. Come the next day you would realise that its headlights never turned on.

[orlaunderrated]

The Edges of Us: Chapter 3

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Will Lenney x fem reader; George Clarke x fem reader Summary: Y/N has always been close to George—but everything changes when she catches feelings for his sharp-tongued, infuriatingly charming friend, Will. Torn between loyalty and desire, Y/N finds herself caught in a messy tangle of friendship, secrets, and unexpected love.

Word Count: 3.3k+

Note: Oh my goodness thank you everyone for the kind words!!!!! I'm literally dying. Also if you're a programmer irl pls tell me if i sound like a boomer trying to write gen z slang. i also only did programming in school

xxx

The next two weeks blur into a rhythm I didn’t expect to find so quickly.

George and I fall back into sync like no time has passed. We have late-night conversations over leftovers, arguing about whether I should care about FIFA (absolutely not), whilst sitting too close on the couch without noticing. There’s an ease to it that’s both comforting and dangerous.

I find myself slipping back into old habits: stealing his hoodie when mine’s still damp from the wash, knowing exactly how he takes his coffee without having to ask. He still hums when he’s concentrating. He still leaves all the cupboard doors open like a gremlin lives here. It’s so familiar I almost forget how unfamiliar everything else is.

Chris and Arthur are new. I’ve never lived with them before, and the dynamic is still a little strange. Chris has a habit of narrating his thoughts out loud in the kitchen, and Arthur plays obscure indie music at volumes that feel vaguely confrontational, but they both seem genuinely nice. There’s a friendliness to them that doesn’t feel forced, just unpolished.

We don’t talk much beyond casual hallway chat, but I get the sense they’re good people. I’m still figuring out the rules of this new house: who uses which mug, whether it’s okay to steal someone’s oat milk, how long is too long to leave laundry in the machine. I tread carefully. It’s not mine yet.

I still haven’t unpacked properly.

My large suitcase lies half-open in the corner like it gave up halfway through. Every morning I rummage through it for something vaguely clean and wrinkle-free, and every night I promise myself I’ll deal with it tomorrow. I haven’t even begun to properly make space for myself yet. The best I’ve managed is rearranging a few things, so now I’m wedged between an unused exercise bike and a stack of old cardboard boxes labelled “wires??” in George’s handwriting.

I’ve discovered my cot sags in the middle. not dramatically, just enough to feel slightly tragic. I can’t decide whether to invest in a real bed now or wait until I have a flat of my own. I’ve saved over a hundred listings online, but I just can’t be bothered yet.

The room is not uncomfortable, just temporary. Everything about the space feels borrowed. Like I’m squatting in someone else’s life, waiting to see if I’ll be allowed to stay.

Instead of sorting out the mess of my personal life, I throw myself into work. Jira tickets and Slack threads are less complicated than the awkward limbo I’m in with George. And honestly, they feel like a better use of my energy than trying to figure out why I don’t quite feel like a real person yet.

The team at work are fine, in that aggressively polite British way where you can’t tell if they actually like you or if they’ve just been trained not to sue each other. I learned quickly who hoards the good coffee, who talks through every stand-up, and who has been very quietly dating the guy from DevOps for six months. The intern calls me “Miss Australia” like I’m some sun-kissed coding goddess. One of them asks how many snakes I’ve seen in my life. I say five. I make it sound casual even though it’s closer to zero.

In the evenings, I rewrite documentation just for the illusion of control. I start colour-coding my IDE themes. I spend an absurd amount of time making sure my folder structure is “aesthetically intuitive.” It’s easier to worry about whether my code is legible than to wonder whether George Clarke ever got over whatever it was that stopped him from liking me all those years ago.

Because sometimes I catch him looking at me like nothing’s changed. Like we’re still nineteen and in that stupid flat with the peeling wallpaper and the leaky bathroom and the futon we used to share when people stayed over. But then he blinks and it’s gone, and I’m left wondering if I imagined it.

Or if I just want to.

Life is just a bit weird right now. Not bad, exactly, just strange. It’s like that moment when you’re driving down the highway and suddenly realise: oh god, this is it. This is your actual life. Not a practice run or the bit before the plot kicks in, just the middle of the story, already happening. Emails and meal prep and laundry and pretending to understand council tax. Meanwhile, other people are out there getting engaged, starting companies, running countries. And I’m wondering if I can justify a full tank in a 2001 Toyota Corolla.

God, I miss that car. It wheezed like it had asthma and smelled like spilled iced coffee, but it was mine. Familiar. Predictable. I knew exactly how it handled on a sharp turn.

Here, nothing feels quite nailed down. Like I’m trying on someone else’s routine and hoping no one notices it doesn’t belong to me. I keep thinking real life is about to start any minute now, once I get settled or unpack or buy actual furniture. But this is it. The job, the cot, the too-quiet mornings and my severe lack of friends that I'm not harbouring a deranged crush from. I’m already waist-deep.

I just haven’t figured out how to feel real inside it yet.

xxx

One evening, I’m lying on my cot, doomscrolling through flat listings in Shoreditch. Spoiler: I can’t afford a single one. Cramped studio after overpriced shoebox blurs past my screen. Somewhere in the living room, the boys are talking. Chris’s voice bouncing off the walls, Arthur chuckling, George quieter as always.

I get up, thinking I should try to be social, or at least civil. They’re practically nocturnal, and I’ve barely exchanged full sentences with them. But just as my hand touches the doorknob, I hear my name.

“Y/N’s actually really pretty, isn’t she?” Chris says, like he’s surprised by his own observation.

There’s a pause. Its brief, but loaded. Then George: “Don’t.”

Just that. One syllable, sharp as glass. No laughter. No explanation.

I freeze. A chill curls up the back of my neck. Chris lets out an awkward laugh, mutters something I can’t quite make out, probably a joke, probably nothing. I slip my headphones back in like I didn’t hear a thing. But I did.

And now, I can’t stop replaying it.

The way Chris said it, So offhand, so casual, like he was commenting on the weather. The way George responded, fast and instinctive. One word. Don’t.

My stomach twists in that old, familiar way. What did I expect? A denial? A laugh? Maybe a 'Yeah, she is'? I’m not sure. But I know I wanted something different.

But I know George. He wasn’t being protective. He was being George. Keeping the peace. Not making things weird. He’s always been good at that—drawing clean lines in places where things get messy.

Still… he didn’t disagree.

I pull my blanket up to my chin, stare at the glow of my phone screen. I know better than to read too much into one word.

But I do anyway.

xxx

The party is a last-minute, thrown-together type of thing. George bursts into my room while I’m mid-doom scrolling.

“Come on,” he says, tossing my jacket onto my lap. “We’re touching grass.”

I raise an eyebrow. “It’s ten degrees and I’m in my trackies.”

“Perfect. You’ll fit right in.”

The flat belongs to someone George knows from work.

Ha, “knows from work.” He’s a YouTuber too. I think he has a podcast? Or owns a podcast studio? I’ve honestly given up keeping track of his friends. I have a 9–5. They have brand deals and discuss 'the algorithm'.  Whoever this guy is, he definitely doesn’t have enough cups.

There’s music blasting from a Bluetooth speaker taped to the wall, a weird smell I can’t place (incense? weed? vape juice?), and one of those cursed LED signs that says something like Live Laugh Lager or whatever. I already hate it here.

George disappears to stash his drinks, and I end up perched on a broken stool in the kitchen, clutching a lukewarm cider and wondering if I’m officially boring for not enjoying sticky countertops and people arguing over which club to go to after. I’m contemplating leaving when he walks in.

Will.

I know his name is Will because three people shout it at once “WILL!” like he’s just come back from war or prison or a particularly long bathroom break.

He’s tall, dressed like he didn’t try but still looks like he belongs on the event poster. Black hoodie, denim jacket, messy hair, sharp smile. There’s a confidence to him. No, not confidence. Ease. Like the room bends a little to make space for him.

I clock the accent immediately. Northern. Thick, unapologetic, and halfway through a passionate rant about oat milk being a scam. His voice slices through the noise, equal parts outrage and entertainment.

And then we make eye contact.

Just for a second. But it’s direct, disarming. He smiles. Keeps talking to James? Jacob? Whoever he is looks more arty than the rest. I wonder if he's friends with Arthur.

James-Jacob exits the conversation, and before I’ve even registered that Will is moving, he’s already walking over.

Straight to me.

And for the first time tonight, I forget how sticky the floor is.

“You’re staring,” he says, but there’s a grin behind it. Its teasing, not arrogant.

“You’re loud,” I shoot back, deadpan.

His smile sharpens. “Fair enough. Can’t argue with that.”

He steps closer, offering a quick, almost polite nod. “Hi. I’m Will.”

“Y/N.”

He tilts his head like he’s just solved a puzzle. “Of course you are.”

I blink. “What does that mean?”

He smirks. “Nothing. Just… George mentioned his uni mate was in town. Didn’t think he meant you.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, eyes flicking over me with a grin that’s too knowing. “Dunno. Thought you’d be taller.”

I narrow my eyes. “And I thought people who rant about oat milk would be quieter.”

“Ouch,” he says, hand to heart. “We’re starting off strong, aren’t we?”

I don’t usually like cocky. I actively avoid it. But something about the way he grins, the way he doesn’t flinch when I bite back. It’s disarming. Confusing. He’s not my usual type, but there’s a weird… gravity to him. He makes the whole room feel like background noise.

George reappears, handing me a fresh cider. His eyes flick to Will, then back to me. It’s subtle, but there’s something in it, like he’s clocking the moment, not judging it.

Will picks up on it anyway. “Alright, mate.” His tone’s easy, casual, like they’ve done this a hundred times. I realise they probably have.

“I Didn’t know you were coming,” George says, leaning against the counter. "Good to see ya". He smiles.

“Yeah, wasn’t gonna,” Will says. “But I needed to touch some grass.”

“No way, that’s literally why Y/N's here.” George beams. “She’s been in the flat three weeks and already hates all of us.”

“I don’t hate you,” I say, taking a sip. “I just hate the constant yelling and your collective refusal to do dishes.”

Will laughs. “Sounds about right.”

Then he gestures to me. “She’s not your girlfriend, right? I feel like I would've heard.”

George snorts. “Not even slightly.”

“Cool,” Will says, shooting me a grin. “Would’ve been awkward if I kept talking.”

George raises a brow, still smiling. “When has that ever stopped you?”

Will shrugs, grinning wider. “Fair point.”

It feels a bit strange to be talked about like this, but I choose to ignore it.

George peels off a moment later, off to talk to someone across the kitchen, and I’m left wondering if that was nothing… or something. The exchange felt normal. Friendly. But the timing, plus Will’s question and George’s glance. It all lingers in the air between us.

“Oi, you’re double-fisting now,” Will said, grinning.

I choked on my drink. “What??”

“You’ve got two ciders in your hands.”

“Oh my god,” I laughed. “We say ‘double parked’ back home.”

Will shook his head, smirking. “That’s mental. Double-fisting is proper classic though. Means you’re serious about the party.”

George, overhearing from across the kitchen, called out, “Aye, Y/N's catching up already. Might be our most committed guest yet.”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue, taking a solid gulp from the half-empty cider.

Will raised his glass. “To double-fisting and proper nights out.”

I raised mine back, feeling the weird pull of fitting into this wild scene, still half confused, half curious.

I end up spending most of the night talking to Chris. He’s hanging out with Arthur, who’s, well… Arthur is smart, that much is obvious, but he's also three beers past the point of functional. He’s swaying slightly, his words getting a little slurred, but he’s still genuinely interested in my work. He asks me questions about programming, about how I got into it, and what languages I like. At one point, he confesses that he dabbled in it back in high school, which surprises me. I didn’t expect someone like him to have any kind of coding knowledge.

But here he is, drunkenly discussing arrays and variable types like it’s the most normal thing in the world. It’s endearing in a weird way. We keep talking shop, while the others drift in and out of the conversation like a blurry haze. I’m introduced to them all, but honestly, I lose track after the third guy who’s wearing a hoodie with an logo.

The host of the party stops by for a second, patting me on the back like we’re old friends. “You remind me of George,” he says with a wink, and I can't quite tell if he’s joking or serious. I nod, unsure how to take it, but I choose to take it as a compliment. No matter how weird, George is funny and good-looking.

The whole night, Will keeps hovering. Not in a weird way, just… present, popping in and out of the groups Chris and I keep forming. Will is the kind of person who fills up the space without even trying. He keeps throwing out jokes, arguments, ridiculous hot takes about tube lines and the food in London, and at one point, he tries to convince me to watch a Formula One race, despite the fact that I’ve already told him I’m allergic to high-speed sports.

Every time I think he’s about to move on, he swings right back into my orbit with something new, whether it’s an outrageous opinion on pineapple on pizza (pineapple can go on pizza, it goes on burgers back home) or an unsolicited, yet somehow fascinating, debate on why Spotify’s algorithm is “fundamentally flawed.”

And every time, I can’t help but bite back, giving as good as I get. I find myself engaging more than I expected, throwing in my own offbeat commentary, even laughing at things I’d normally find irritating. With him, it’s different. He’s relentless in the most entertaining way.

Meanwhile, George stays on the outskirts of the party, drifting around the edges of the room like he’s trying to blend in without fully participating. It’s familiar in a way that almost comforts me. He’s always nearby, but he's having his own fun, and I guess letting me touch my own grass. I try not to notice the way his eyes keep flicking over to Will every time he laughs, or the way his gaze seems to linger when I laugh with Will.

It’s subtle. Maybe it’s nothing. But I can’t shake the feeling it’s something more.

Eventually, I make my way to the door, my head spinning a little from the mix of cider and strange conversations. I catch George in the hallway, already on his phone, pretending to be ordering an Uber, which is the universal sign that it’s time to go. But just before I walk out, I hear Will's voice behind me.

“Oi,” he calls, his tone light but with that edge that makes my stomach do a little flip. “You’re alright, you know.” He pauses for a beat, considering his next words. “For someone who calls it double parked.”

My brow lifts. “Wow. That’s going straight in my LinkedIn recommendations.”

He laughs. He genuinely laughs like a muppet. Instead of his jaw dropping, his head flings backwards dramatically. I’m not sure why, but hearing him laugh like that feels like an invitation to something.

Something dangerous or something fun I can't tell, but either way, it pulls me in.

Without missing a beat, Will pulls out his phone, flicking through it like he’s already got a plan. There’s a beat where I stand there, unsure of what to do. He doesn’t say anything, he just opens the Instagram search page. His fingers hover over the screen before gliding across. He looks up at me. There’s a challenge in his eyes, something playful but still sharp, like he’s testing me without saying it out loud.

I hesitate for just a second. Then, on instinct, I fill in my details. "Y/F/N.HTML?" he says, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "What's that about, then?"

I shrug, trying to play it off. "Oh, I’m a programmer."

Will's grin widens, and I can see him processing that for a moment, letting it sink in. "fuckin' nerd." It’s not unkind. More like a compliment wrapped in sarcasm.

I roll my eyes. "Tell me something I don’t know."

Will gives me a thumbs-up and, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, taps ‘follow.’ “I’ll see you around, Y/N."

I try to think of something to quip back, but he's already returned to the party.

As I step outside into the cold night air, the sound of George's voice calling out after me reaches my ears. "You good to go?"

I nod, but my mind is somewhere else entirely. Will seems arrogant and cocky, but his sweet moments are laced in. I can’t decide if I like it or if I should be annoyed.

I try not to let the thought linger too long, but somewhere in the back of my mind, Will’s grin lingers, and I can’t quite shake it off.

Somewhere about three blocks from the flat, I get a DM from Will.

I snort, despite myself, glancing over at George. He’s staring out the window, arms folded, looking like he’s thinking too hard about something. I don’t show him the phone, but I can’t resist. “Will says drop the big brother act.”

George glances at me, a little surprised, then smirks. “Right. Got it. I’ll stop looking out for you... and start letting you make terrible life decisions on your own.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Sounds about right.”

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, alright. Maybe I’ve been a bit much.” He grins sheepishly. “But you know, I’ve got to make sure no one’s corrupting you. That’s a full-time job.”

I laugh, but there’s a shift in the air. His eyes flick to me, and for a moment, it feels like there’s more behind his smile. Like maybe he's not sure how to let go of the old ways.

Something’s changing, and I can’t quite put my finger on it. But I can’t look away.

[butlervibesonly]

𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑼𝑪𝑲 || 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐭 || Austin! Elvis

★ PART 2

★ SUMMARY: Y/n is Elvis' fan, and when she gets to one of his performances for the first time, something happens. Something that she could never imagine in her wildest dreams...

★ PAIRING: Austin! Elvis x female! reader

★ WARNINGS: none??

★ NOTE!! My acknowledge of Elvis is not so big, all things I know are from movie, documents, webs etc! So I deeply apologize for any mistakes/typos/misunderstanding that have nothing to do with reality. All of this is fic and has nothing to do with no one or anything. Based just on Austin's role of Elvis! Thank you for understanding! 🫶🏻

The moment you saw him — the way he wiggles, the way he sings, the way he looks. His black hair shimmer in the spotlight. You are completely sure you've never seen anyone like this before. The entire United States seems to know his name by now.

Elvis Presley.

That's it. That's the name. Whether it's just Elvis or just Presley, everyone know who he is. You never thought seeing someone like that in person would mess with your head so much.

He is famous, even though he is still climbing towards true fame, but young girls are already crazy about him. And now you completely understand why. You're at one of his performances right now and it's unbelievable how much of an influence this guy has on everyone around you.

��� Well, it's one for the money, two for the show, three to get ready now go, cat, go ♪

You would say it was almost impossible for him to notice the audience while he was moving around on stage, but one moment seemed to change everything. His blue eyes find yours. He seemed to lock his gaze on you while singing the rest of the song Blue Suede Shoes.

"Who's tha' girl over there?" Elvis asks the boys from band, not caring about the cheering he gets. "I have no idea, man," Bill answers. At that moment, Elvis is caring about nothing but the name of the girl who caught his eye.

If the crowd isn't crazy that much, he sure would jump into the audience just to ask for your name. "I need her name,"

"What?!"

Colonel Parker was already dragging Elvis into his presence. "Mr. Presley, there are some nice interviewers-"

"Get her damn' name, Bill!" As Elvis said it was done. The show ended and you're on. your way home, still taken away from all what happened. Bill runs after you, trying to catch you through the crowd.

"Miss?!" he shouts, not too far away from you. You turn around, seeing the familiar face. "Miss! E-Elvis sent me to see ya. He'd probably like to meet ya." Elvis would like to what? In less then 10 minutes you're waiting in the backstage, waiting for someone to tell you what's goin' on.

"H-hey, sorry for waitin'," suddenly you hear that deep fast voice. "Elvis. Elvis Presley, miss." he introduced himself to you as if you didn't know his name already. "All good," you shake his hand. "Y/n y/n/m."

"Y/n," your name slips from his lips like a melody. "That's uh- a beautiful name." Elvis seems really nervous but the more you look at him this close the more this feels unreal. "I- I was wonderin' if you're, uh, free tonigh'?".

"I am, yes," you reply faster than you thought. Who would decline a date with Elvis Presley? A nervous smile appears on his face as you agree. "Awesome! I'm here with my car, so..." he almost asks for your permission.

You nod and smile. Looking at him as he's wearing pink shirt with black pants. Not forget to mention that you are matching his outfit with beautiful pink cocktail dress.

You follow Elvis into his car, and the moment you see his pink Cadillac it's like a dream. "Ladies first," he chuckles, opening a door for you. You're sitting in Elvis Presley's car with Elvis. You're practically living a dream of every young girl right now. Elvis starts the car and he makes the way into the local dinner.

"So, Y/n, tell me about yourself," Elvis sits in front of you in the dinner. He ordered you and himself a strawberry milkshake. "There's not much to know, actually." you smile, your eyes scanning him. He looks so handsome and unreal.

"Ya know why I noticed ya?" Elvis asks, as you take a sip from your milkshake. "When I saw ya, you were, uh... different than other girls, y'know. You were so calm and uh,"

"That's because I've never seen anyone like you." you confess, blinking with your lashes. Elvis could swear he loves your eyes so much already. "I was simply taken aback when I saw you doing the... the things—"

"Ya like the way I move, doll?" he laughs. Doll. Is this how he calls girls he likes? Doll? "Bill told me, the first time I performed, that them girls like to see me wiggle. I can't stand still while singin'."

"Well, it's really mesmerizing..." Elvis smiles at you again. Oh gosh, how much he wants to get to know you more. You see the lovely desperation in his eyes. "I'm at college, right now. Finishing my studies. Daddy wants me to be successful, but whole my life I just dream about being free and... independent." you begin.

"Y'know, my daddy is a banker and my mama is a teacher. They both raised me really strictly to become the best version of myself. But that little girl always dreamed of life of her own, and still does." Elvis listened to you carefully, not caring that people in the dinner ate recognizing him.

"I've never met a girl like ya, Y/n," Elvis admits, his hand travelling to hold yours. "Ya are not like the other's, nah-uh."

"Do ya know I'm not surprised, Mr. Presley?" you take the last sip from your milkshake, then taking your purse and standing up. "Oh, Satnin', don't call me like this, I'm Elvis for ya," he grabs your wrist, stopping you from leaving. "Aight', Elvis,"

"Don't leave! Not yet," he pays for the milkshakes, turning back at you. "I gotta. Daddy's gonna be mad, if I'll arrive late."

"I'll drive ya home, mhm?" Elvis offers. Who are you to refuse this poor boy? "Okay."

When you're sitting in his pink Cadillac again, you don't want this moment to end. You can feel Elvis' eyes resting on you, as you smile. "Where do you live, doll?"

"Just around the corner. Turn right and the last house in that street," you point on the turn. The evening is already dark, but his eyes shine anyway. As Elvis pulls up on the driveway of your house, he turns to face you.

"Would it be aight', if I, uh, I called you sometime? What's ya number?" Elvis asks and your hands travel to your purse where you always carry a pen in a case of anything. Only problem is that you don't have a paper.

"Do you perhaps have a paper or something?" Elvis nods and searches the passenger's drawer for a piece of paper. He pulls out a piece of some kind of letter with his name on it – probably a letter from a fan.

When he hands it to you, he accidentally touches your knee. His touch is so gentle and soft. If you hadn't just met, you would want that touch to never end. Elvis passes you the paper, and with a smile you write your house phone number on it.

"Thank ya," you pass the paper back to him. "I had a great time, Y/n." he glances at you, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel. "Are ya okay?" he asks, his voice low and easy.

You turn to him, startled from her thoughts. "Oh, I’m just… enjoying the moment, y'know," you reply softly, eyes darting to meet his before shyly falling away. The scent of his cologne, warm and woodsy, lingers between the two of you.

You both sit in silence for a moment, the world outside hushed. Elvis shifts slightly in his seat, leaning closer. “Y'know,” he murmurs, “I think you might be the nicest girl I’ve ever seen.”

You look up, your lips parting to respond, but before you can speak, he closes the distance between him and you. His lips meets yours—gentle, tentative, as if he was tasting the sweet taste of your juicy lips. Your breath hitches in surprise, but don’t pull away. Instead, a warmth unfurls in your chest, spreading like the soft glow of the car’s headlights on the road.

When he finally pulls back, his eyes searches for yours nervously. A boyish uncertainty crosses his face. “Was that okay?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. You blink, your cheeks flushing. Then you smile—a radiant smile that makes his heart skip. “It was more than okay,” you say, your fingers lightly brushing the back of his hand. “It was perfect.”

He grins, relief and joy flooding his expression. You got out of the car, rushing to the from door of your house. As you turn once more again to see him, he waves at you and drives away.

"Sweetheart, who just drove out of our driveway?" you hear your mom from kitchen. You can't say it was Elvis, but sooner or later she'll find out if he's going to call you. "No one, mama!" With reply you rush upstairs to your room, where you close the door and can't believe this is true.

NOTE: Hahaha, how bad was this? I mean, I have written this as a complete freestyle soooo 🥲 Nvm hope u gonna like this and I hope this serie will be successful, even tho I didn't even think of the plot yet 😭

[hedgiwithapen]

Leverage timetravel, pre pilot/child ot3 meet their redemption era selves

(I took some liberties re: /meeting/) In hindsight, visiting the US Patent office was probably not their smartest move.  Never return to the scene of the crime, and all, at least not if the job was finished. 

But they'd put a pin in going back for the time machine, and not even a really bad idea could deter Hardison from an actual time machine. Well. Portal, like Eliot had said. 

It hadn't come with an instruction manual, but the three of them, Hardison, Parker, Eliot were professionals at figuring things out on the fly . Even lost in the past. Even scattered. 

Hardison knew he just had to wait, though. They'd find each other. They'd lived through the past once, they could deal with it again, especially knowing everything they did. And it wasn't like they had to live through the whole span of years, either. They just had to find each other, put the pieces back together, scattered with them, and go home. Easier said than done--he was starting to think they might have ended up in different times--but still, the Estimated range was fifteen to twenty years, so that was only five max before they met up, right?

Hardison had gotten right to work. Ads in every major newspaper in the heartland cost plenty, but he had years of criminal practice on top of knowing what tech to invest in, so he really wasn't that worried. He guessed Eliot would be betting on sports games, like in Back to the Future. Parker... well, it was hard to guess where she was. Once he and Eliot met up, they'd have to wait for her to get to them. He did have a few things to do, first.

He knocked on Nana's door, feeling like maybe he ought to be wearing a bow tie. 

"What is it? You from the county?" she asked, when she opened the door. He could see behind her a few curious faces, including his own. Damn, he'd been so tiny. 

"Yes, Ma'am," he said brightly. He could remember this day, vaguely. The box he held was more familiar than his adult face. "I'm here to install your new computer."

"I didn't order any computer," Nana said. "Run your scam someplace else."

"It's not a scam!" he heard his own voice say. "I entered a contest at school."

He had. And he'd lost. Stupid Jake Puckett had won, a kid who could have easily afforded a computer. Alec hadn't known that though, until Hardison'd checked idly. And he wasn't about to just let all of history change. Well, all his own history. 

"You got some proof of that?" Nana asked, and Alec went  scampering off to his room to find his copy of the essay.

Satisfied with the expertly forged documents (wow! it was much easier to forge past documents when you were in the time they were from!) Nana let him in and pointed to a corner desk near an outlet. 

"You ever use your own one of these?" Hardison asked Alec, who shook his head. " just the one at school. I really won?"

"Sure did. Now, let me show you what this thing can do."

~

Eliot stood at the edge of the field, a newspaper crumpled in his hand. Hardison was in Boston, if the ad was right, and of course the ad was. No one else put that much effort into a coded message. 

He watched the football fly. In two weeks, the kid throwing it would be on a bus to boot camp. He closed his eyes. There were options.  Kid wouldn't believe him, of course. There were no secrets yet, to spill as proof. And he was too stubborn to buy the warning.  A good solid tackle, though. Break his arm bad enough...

He'd thought about it. And then about the what ifs. The blood would still be spilled, he knew that. Someone else would end up on Moreau's chain. Someone else would end up with a half dug grave for Flores, and maybe keep digging it.  Everything he'd done for money, the money'd go to someone else. Job might not get done, or it might. 

He'd be there for his mother's funeral. He'd miss Katherine Clive's. Rebecca Ibanez.  the way the drinking might have gone... he'd miss Nate Ford's.  He'd go to school, like his dad wanted, never play college ball. Study something-- art history, maybe -- but no, that was him now. Not him then. Him then would be angry and broken. Him then wouldn't have... his people.

He crumped the paper further. "Dammit, Hardison," he said quietly, and walked away. 

~

Parker had a code. Some things, you just didn't do. Some were big and flashy and obvious. Some were smaller, quieter. 

Hardison would say she shouldn't do this, she knew, and she usually listened to Hardison. He knew what he was talking about, most of the time. You can't change the past. That'd been part of the lecture before they'd gone to steal the time machine.  You can do things, sure, but you always did them. 

Well, Parker hadn't done this. No one had, back the first time she'd lived through this day. But she was doing it anyways, breaking his rule and her own. You don't steal from kids who don't have anything. 

Carefully, she picked the lock on the child's bicycle chain. 

[psiioniicarts]

Hi! Can you share a bit more about Mark rooming with Cesar and Six being homophobic towards Cesar specifically?

Sure! Admittedly, I've been really vague about it since I wanted to be conservative on what I reveal so I can tell the story with an "official lore post" (like the supplant video), but I decided I should state this outright so it's less confusing: Mark does live after the night of September 1992. The events occur similarly to canon, and the Volume 1 entry I want to make will probably be a series of phone calls that occur during that night (plus some art or writing hopefully), illustrating how Cesar is involved as well as how Thatcher is involved. I've just been busy (and exhausted, ouuugh) lately, so I haven't had the time to sit down and work on it yet.

More info under read more:

After that night, Mark drops off the public radar in Mandela. As I vagued out in this post, it's after this that Mark moves in with (alt)Cesar, taking his car with him (which, besides a few other things, is one of the few things he took with him). Cesar was living alone at this point in the Torres family home; I mentioned in this post human Cesar moved out with his dad, who was divorcing his mom, in 1992. Mentioned in this post, Alt!Cesar started stalking Mark and Cesar in 1991, but in the beginning of 1992 is when it turns into him. It fully takes human Cesar's place after he leaves with his father, and Cesar's mother was..."dealt with."

In this post about Sarah and this one about Dave, I clarified that the Heathcliff family (his parents and Sarah) are told officially by the police that Mark is “a missing person, likely deceased." Furthermore, since they're friends, Dave is told by Thatcher the night of about Mark's fate, though he knows a little more about the situation since he was involved. For all intents and purposes, most people, including all of Mark's family, believes he's dead. He's very much alive though, and it's just Mark and Cesar living in the Torres house in Mandela, both of them working: Mark does some online journalism but essentially doesn't leave the house, and Alt!Cesar had been working at the Snakeskin Tavern, later becoming the owner.

On that last note, Six also works at the tavern as one of his jobs. He's just an assistant manager and bartender (Alt!Cesar is the owner and manager), but he takes care of a lot of stuff around the place because full disclosure, Atl!Cesar is a slacker 😂😂 He still gets work done if he needs to, but for the most part he just goofs off for half his shift, yapping to customers and playing pool. He's also talks about Mark a lot to Six, since Six is one of the few "people" who knows Mark is alive. He's kind of a fruit which is why I used the homophobic image cause I just thought it was funny 😂 "I hate this guy."

I am trying to compile most of the essential lore onto one document that I'll share so things are less confusing for people, but like I mentioned I've just been busy with schoolwork, job work and other projects I'm working on. I'll try to get that cleaned up for everyone soon though!

[shira-cosmic-star]

Hello! Mind if I send in a request? I'm not sure how familiar you are with Sanrio, but how about some headcanons for the Hotarubi boys + Alan, Luca, and Kaito with a reader that's like Wish Me Mell.

In case you don't know, Mell is a bit shy, a bit clumsy, but she's very kind, and her heart is always in the right place. She enjoys collecting stamps and writing letters. Mell is considered a bit disorganized and a scatterbrain, but despite that, she has a kind and loving heart for everyone

Hotarubi boys + Alan, Luca, and Kaito with a reader that's like Wish Me Mell.

(So sorry this took me a while, I wanted to make sure I got the character’s personality fully. So I did more research, because I wasn’t confident in myself 😅. I do hope you enjoy this💙)

Warning: spoilers on episode 5 + super long writing

———————————————————

Haku:

When Haku first met MC. He noticed a few things about them. They were a bit shy and clumsy. So clumsy that when they first met and got off the train. MC accidentally tripped over their own feet and slammed right into Haku. They apologized profusely, Haku chuckled. He found it cute and adoring. As he got to know MC. He found more of this cute personality of their’s

•MC once came to Hotarubi to give him a document that had a mistake. When they got there, they have completely forgot why they were there. When they admitted that, Haku reminded them that they have told him about the documents. “Oh! Right, sorry hehe.” MC pulled out the documents and hand it over

•After Haku looked it over and signed it. He handed it back to MC. When MC was leaving…they accidentally tripped over nothing and fell. They were okay, but it worried Haku a bit.

•Haku always told MC to be careful. But he would also teasingly say. “Falling for me again?” Which caused MC to blush madly

•When MC comes over to relax and have some tea with Haku. They have gotten on a subject about working too hard and all. MC complimented him and told him that if he ever needed help. He could count on MC. This warmed Haku’s heart. He placed a hand on their head and thanked them.

•One time MC misplaced their phone somewhere and looked everywhere. Haku was walking in the halls and saw them on the floor in a classroom. He decided to help them. Only to find out that their phone was in their bag this entire time. MC felt embarrassed.

•Haku chuckles every time he’s around them. It’s never a dull moment with them.

Subaru:

MC was walking down the empty hall. When they almost accidentally ran into someone. “Oh! I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” MC stated while apologizing again. Subaru told them that it was okay. When they were going their separate ways. MC accidentally ran into a wall. While blushing madly, they laughed and speed down the hallway.

•Ever since that day, they have bumped into each frequently. Not actually run into each pre-say. Just seen each other on the opposite sides.

•They would smile and say hello to one another.

•Once MC started to work with Hotarubi. They felt relaxed that Haku and Subaru was in this dorm. Especially after what happened with the last dorm..

•Subaru would often invite MC for tea. Once MC held their cup and accidentally let it slipped. The tea was dumped all over their lap. They were embarrassed and apologized. Subaru didn’t mind the mess and asked them if they were okay.

•MC asked Subaru to meet them for lunch. They wanted to ask him something but completely forgot what to was. But Subaru sat next to her and enjoyed lunch with them anyways. After lunch MC then remembered and texted him. It was about tea.

•Subaru feels at easy when around MC. Didn’t have to force himself to be perfect. Though he’s still anxious, he feels that, he can make mistakes and that MC wouldn’t get mad or disappointed.

•Though let’s be honest, if MC freaks out during a case or missing something in their daily lives. This would make Subaru more anxious. So if MC’s calm, he’s calm. Haku has to help both of them

•Subaru also thinks that MC would be able to help his friend Lyca. Lyca has been through a lot and so maybe he’ll learn how to trust MC and maybe others.

•He uses this to learn more about MC. And MC uses them opportunity to know both of them

Zenji:

Zenji accidentally scared MC when they have first met. He wrote a note to warn them, but when they have woken up. He didn’t finish writing it. So it came off creepy and scary for them. But when MC was finally able to see and hear him. He was extremely excited. He would often speak to them with a lot of energy.

•”My sweet beautiful doll! I’m so glad you can see me!” The nickname he have given MC, made MC blushed. They smiled back and said, “it’s so nice to meet you” they spoke in a shy soft voice

•”Your voice is like a soft melody my dear.” This made have caused MC’s heart to race

•Zenji would often compliment them every time he sees them. They would smile and talked to him or listen to his music.

•MC actually likes the passion Zenji has when he composes his music or tells stories

•When MC accidentally hurt themselves, Zenji would freak out a little bit. A worrywart like him would rush to their side and ask them if they are okay

•After finding out what had happened to Zenji, MC wept for him. Such cruel fate for their dear friend. When Zenji saw tears swelled in their eyes. He soothes them. Telling them not to worry and that he is okay and still here. If MC ever needed to talk. They can come to him.

•Zenji adores MC even more after seeing MC cries for him. Not in a sadistic way, but as a, “they care about me” way. He deeply cherishes that. He cherishes them

Luca:

Luca, became more and more protective of MC when he started to spend more time with them. Noticing how clumsy and disorganized they were. Once they dropped their pencil on the floor. Bent down to pick it, came back up and hit their head.

•When walking to the cafeteria, MC tripped over their own footing and Luca caught them. MC thanked him

•MC accidentally forgot their notebook in class, they were freaking out when they couldn’t find it. Luckily Luca had it and gave it back to them. They were relieved. After they have dumped their entire bag on the table

•Luca would keep an eye on them when he’s around. Making sure they don’t accidentally hurt themselves or run into anything. He would grab their hand gentle to pull them aside, away from the wall, person, or any object they weren’t looking because they were daydreaming.

•He had continued to hold their hand until they have reached their destination. Kaito wasn’t happy

•Luca noticed how kind MC was. Especially when MC would calm Kaito down from his melt downs or panics.

•When Luca had gotten into a confrontation with Shu and Leo. It was MC that calmed him down a bit. MC had grabbed one of his hands and rubbed their thumb on the top of his hand. He looked over to MC and noticed a worry look. MC asked him if he was okay. He nodded and took a deep breathe. Though it didn’t last, it definitely helped

Kaito:

When Kaito first spoke to MC. He cried over how sweet they were. Calling them an angel that came to save him. This made MC blushed, shortly after they first time they’ve met. Kaito would fall for her more and more. How? This is how

•MC saw Kaito outside the cathedral. There were stairs and Mc almost fell down it. Kaito helped them by grabbing their hand to support them as the walked down.

•It scared Kaito at first, but he felt like a try gentleman or a knight!

•When in need of rescue, always count on Kaito! He definitely didn’t tell MC that out loud. He did

•There were times where MC showed their appreciation to Luca and Kaito. They would often by sweets or any snacks they knew where their favorites. Kaito would either cry or blush with excitement.

•He falls for them more and more until he hit the core of the earth.

•He would often try to impress MC. Which may or may not caused him to accidentally make a fool of himself. Even though that happens, MC would often encourage him to look on the bright side or encouraged him to keep trying.

•And so he does, so hopefully one day. They would be a couple.

Alan:

MC was extremely nervous about working with Vagastrom. Especially after the whole Sho vs Luca fight. It didn’t help how mean Leo was to them. Alan did however make things a little easier. Then Sho did, but never Leo. So when MC came over. They felt comfortable when Sho and/Alan was there.

•When on the case, Alan made sure to tell them not to enhance his stigma. He was terrified of hurting them. He would put enough space between them.

•While on top of the cliff, MC fell and Alan quickly saved them. He asked them if they were okay. They thanked him over and over again. He wasn’t used to being thanked.

•It warmed his heart, but went back to focus on the case.

•MC told him that they were clumsy and often accidentally hurt themselves so. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

•This caused Alan to make sure to keep an eye on them. Incase they accidentally get hurt again. He doesn’t mind it though. MC however felt like they were hold everyone back.

•Alan in his own words reassures them that they are doing plenty to help.

•When MC waited outside with Sho. Alan couldn’t stop thinking about their safety. It made him incredibly uncomfortable. Anxious really. When MC screamed and then Sho. He rushed to saved them.

•After he saves them, MC was grateful and smiled gently as they take his hand.

•A sweet gentle smile, from a shy and kind person. Even though they went through a hellish situation. They were still able to smile. That is called strength. He liked that and told them that. In his own words

———————————————————

This was a lot, sorry that it was so long. Tell me what you think. What’s your favorite one, what you didn’t like or maybe something I can improve on? Was it romantic enough or not enough. Im curious to hear your guys thoughts! Have a great day! 💙

(Edited)

[mementos-of-me]

Evermore

Chapter 37. It's time to go

Previous chapter

Masterlist

I can't tell you how much Nadia means to me <3 I'm so excited to share what's to come with you!

pairing: Pietro Maximoff x OFC

warnings: a whole lotta angst, hurt no comfort, Nadia & Pietro,

By the time I’d returned home, New York had begun following in Vienna’s footsteps, the warmth of spring rearing its head as the last of the snow melted away.

In the light of day everything looked different.

The compound was eerily silent, my swift footsteps seeming raucous against the immense quiet. Beneath my bed, within an unassuming cardboard box that lay behind other various bits and pieces was a black duffle bag. Inside was a selection of passports, fake documentation, cash, a burner phone and a few items for disguise. Perhaps there was one positive to my tumultuous childhood, I was always prepared. This go-bag was my perfected kit, containing everything I needed to disappear. I quickly shed my outfit, changing into jeans, a plain white top and my brown leather jacket, unassuming and easy to ditch later. I grabbed the gun I had hidden beneath my pillow and one of the ones held in the back of my closet, sliding one into the back of my jeans and jamming the other into my bag along with some ammo. When I had what I needed I slung the bag across my body and began toward the door, though I paused beside my nightstand, glancing down at the frame sitting there. A picture of Natasha and I that she’d framed for me.

What’s more you than your own face?

I smiled at the recollection, pulling the photo out and stowing it away along with one other picture that had been in the drawer. When I was done, I forced myself to keep going. I only had one last order of business at the compound, and I needed to get moving because it wouldn’t be long before Ross and co. arrived. My stomach turned as I stepped into Pietro’s room, chest tightening as I glanced over his haphazardly made bed; his worn-out sneakers, I walked passed all of it, ignoring the familiar smell of his cologne and the memories that hit me from being in here. Shoving aside the clothes in his closet I quickly found the files I was looking for, all of the notes and communications, everything linking him to Hydra and slid them under my arm. I made quick work of moving to the office and putting every page contained in the folders through the paper shredder. Again and again, I watched the paper turn into ribbons of white, the letters muddled and cut and unintelligible. When it was all shredded, I opened the lid of the machine and shred it even further by hand, making sure there was no way to read what had been there. I tore the bits of paper until there was nothing left of Pietro’s agreement with Hydra.

Pietro and Wanda were pardoned by the government for their part in Ultron’s crimes because they switched sides and helped save a lot of lives. If the United States government found out that he’d been colluding with what was considered a terrorist organization, they would not be so quick to forgive. I wasn’t sure that being Avengers would protect them from the consequences of that.

My phone had not stopped buzzing since I arrived, I pulled it from my pocket quickly seeing dozens of messages and calls from Anna and a bunch of unfamiliar numbers. At the very top sat a missed call from Nick Fury as well as a voicemail notification. I pressed play as I finished destroying the documents.

“Nadia, I know that you’re all a little busy down there at the moment, so I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important. You’ve told me many times to leave the past where it belongs, but basically, I didn’t listen. People tell me I have trouble letting things go, anyway, I kept digging into your past and… just call me back as soon as possible.”

Nick had a flare for the dramatic, though, I’d never heard him sound like this before. He spoke quickly, disbelief intertwined within each word. My finger hovered over his contact but then I glanced at the clock and hesitated, I’d been here too long already and no doubt my phone would be under surveillance, the second I made a call Ross would know my location. Whatever Fury wanted to tell me would have to wait.

I finally left the compound then. Destroying the evidence was the last order of business I had there, the last thing I needed to do. My last endeavor to protect Pietro Maximoff. Or at least that’s what I told myself.

From there I headed straight to the location I’d arranged with my contact; before I arrived at the private airstrip I ditched my phone on a bus heading into the city. In an hour when the vehicle reached the outskirts of New York City a scheduled text message would be sent from my phone pinging its location.

The message was to Anna, and it contained only one word:

Red.

It was a codeword we’d decided on years ago, simply put, it meant that there was trouble and whatever device that had sent the message was compromised. I trusted that this message along with what she’d inevitably find out had happened at the airport would be enough context for her.  

I’d thought about escape just about every day for the last 20 years. In every room I entered I mapped out every possible exit and had a plan for how I would get to it. My mind was always calculating, formulating a plan. Call is self-preservation or a survival instinct, whatever it was it had ingrained itself into the very fabric of my being. The problem was that I’d gotten too comfortable, not just at the compound but in my relationships, my friendships, my daily routines. I’d begun to let my guard dwindle. I’d allowed myself to trust and be trusted and most importantly I stopped scoping out every possible escape route. So, now, this is what I’m left with. This contact of Natasha’s that had me meet him in an old private airfield just outside the city.

“Nadia, I’m guessing?” The man offered me a brief wave as he stepped in front of me. “I’m Rick, we spoke earlier.”

I glanced down at his outstretched hand, a moment of silence passing between us before I slowly accepted it, shaking once before letting go. Thankful for the motorcycle gloves he wore, unsure I could bear any further human contact right now.

“Thank you for meeting me, did you get what I asked for?”

He tilted his head side to side, gesturing for me to follow him as he began an old rusty hangar. “So, given the time constraints I was a little strapped for resources, but I got you a short-term solution while we work on the long term one.” He pushed the large metal doors open to reveal a tiny little plane.

“Cute.”

He nodded. “Very cute, it’s a Cirrus SR22, it’ll get you to The Bahamas but no further so no dawdling. I’ve got you’re landing coordinates all mapped out, you’ll land in another private airstrip that’s expecting you. The guy you’re meeting there is a friend of mine, he won’t give you any trouble. You already know the rest and I’ll be in touch when I’ve got another next safe house for you.”

I caught the keys he threw to me, stowing them in my pocket as I threw my duffle into the back of the plane. “Thank you, really.”

He just nodded again. “It’s all good, I owe Natasha, any friend of hers is good people in my book.” I smiled at that, though hearing her name worsened the ache in my chest. “Hey, you know it’s pretty hot on you right now in the city, you must’ve really pissed some important people off.”

I swallowed heavily, pulling the door to the plane open before turning back to face him. “Pretty much, but it’s not the first time and it probably won’t be the last.”

He laughed at that. “Fly safe, seriously though, head straight to those coordinates or that thing will burn out.” Was the last thing he said to me. I raised an eyebrow at him, glancing back at the plane over my shoulder.

“Good to know.” I mumbled, climbing aboard.

For the next 4 hours I replayed all of the events from the last few days. What Barnes had said about the lab in Serbia where I’d been kept and the one in Siberia where those other super soldiers remained on ice, waiting to be activated. I thought of the hurt on Pietro’s face as I stepped over that line and the feeling of that Beam from Tony’s suit hitting me right in the chest; the searing agony that had nothing to do with the burst of light and everything to do with the look in his eyes.

…

It was night when I landed in the private airstrip in Nassau. A man with long dark hair pulled back into a loose ponytail was there to greet me as I stepped out of the plane.

“I’m Alby, you must be Rick’s friend?”

 “Yes.” I nodded, slinging the duffle bag over my shoulder. He tossed me a set of two keys, one for a house and the other I assumed was for a car but then Alby gestured behind me to a light blue moped.

I sighed heavily, too exhausted to argue. With a thank you to the man before me, I tightened the strap of my duffle bag and climbed onto the bike, sliding the helmet on. Rick had already told me the address of the safehouse and there was a map in my bag. Before driving to the place, I’d be staying I stopped at a local pharmacy and grocery store to grab a few things I’d need.

The little cottage Rick had given me the address for was lemon yellow, but I paid no mind to its exterior as I slipped inside, immediately shutting all of the curtains and securing all the windows and doors. When I was satisfied that the house was secure, I laid my supplies out.

I took a bite of an apple that I bought, holding it between my teeth as I mixed the hair dye in a small plastic bowl. As I ran the brush over each strand of my hair Pietro’s voice was in my head. I thought of that night in New York all those months ago when he’d told me he wanted to be my boyfriend. I thought of lying in the grass with him in Central Park, the sun pressing into our flesh. He had tried so hard for so long to get my attention, to get me to admit that I felt something for him, no matter how hard I’d pushed him away, how mean I was to him. He’d been infuriatingly resolute in his efforts. I wondered if he regretted it all now; I wouldn’t blame him. My stomach sunk at the thought. I had tried… hadn’t I. Tried to keep this all together, I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t want it to end this way. Even when I knew what he’d done, what he’d told Hydra, I’d still held onto him, when I felt him slipping after Lagos I held on tighter. I thought of what he’d said to me at the airstrip.

This is bad, Nadia, even for you.

Because I am bad, that is what he’d meant.

I wondered if he’d thought that all along or if it had merely grown. I supposed it didn’t really matter.

I wasn’t trying to be bad. I didn’t want to be bad. I had tried not to be.

Wasn’t this the right choice? I couldn’t have lived with the other choice, that was what Steve had said and he was right. I couldn’t have lived with it if the accords stopped us from helping people who needed it.

I thought of Rhoadey plummeting down toward the ground. Was he even, okay? I hadn’t had the chance to find out. The burning sensation in the center of my chest had not ceased for even a moment, I swore I could still feel the beam of energy hitting me, over and over again.

I wiped the tears from my face, and only then did I realize how shaky my hands were. When my hair was covered in the dark liquid I dabbed it onto my eyebrows as well. I couldn’t escape the thoughts darting around in my mind, not just of Pietro but Barnes as well. The things he’d told me clung to my skin. There were pieces of me that I remember, many little pieces that had come back to me and yet the time spent in Serbia was practically non-existent in my mind. I supposed it should not be so shocking to me, to not remember a chunk of my life. Then I thought of the white room where I was strapped down to a chair while the ballet played, I wondered if that all happened at the Hydra base where Barnes and I first met. It was incredibly frustrating to feel so disconnected from the memory, to have such an unyielding blind spot in my mind.

Dark water pooled around the drain as I rinsed my hair absentmindedly watching the spirals of diluted color.

It was warm here, humidity pressing into my flesh the moment I’d stepped off of the plane. I had barely even noticed. In New York the air was still a little chilly even as winter gave into spring. I wondered if the warmth of Nassau could thaw the icy cold that was pressing into my chest, but I decided it was unlikely.

I looked into my own eyes in the mirror as I towel dried my hair, now at least my appearance matched how I felt; nothing like me. When I was done, I dressed in the pajamas that I’d found folded neatly in a set of drawers then I slid beneath the covers and pulled the duvet up to my chin, ignoring the discomfort of laying on my back. There was a prevailing silence in the room that unsettled me as I stared up at the ceiling that was only just visible thanks to the slither of moonlight that crept in through the window. After a long while of suffocating silence I turned onto my side and pulled the duvet over my head.

For a week I remained within the lemon-yellow walls, never drawing the curtains open to let the sun touch my skin, never breathing the fresh sea breeze, only drifting aimlessly around the bedroom like a ghost or laying, shrouded in the darkness of the duvet, replaying the day in at the airport, again and again. Rhoadey falling hitting the ground, Tony aiming his glove at me, the look on his face, Pietro’s voice.

“Go on then, hurt me.” 

The cupboards were stocked with non-perishables that I occasionally ventured into the kitchen for, though hunger wasn’t much of an issue when I’d become so sluggish.

On my 8th day in Nassau, I ventured into the sitting room. I ran the tip of my finger over the spines of the few books haphazardly strewn across the small side table, blowing the dust from my finger when I pulled it back. I opened and closed my burner phone a few times, checking for any new messages from Rick. There was nothing, every single time. I paced the floor in front of the couch and when that didn’t quiet my mind, I turned on the television, sitting down when I saw a picture of my face pop up. Natasha’s picture came after causing me to still, she’d switched sides too. I wondered where she was now, she must have evaded Ross if they’d listed her as a fugitive. Sam, Wanda, Clint and Scott hadn’t been so lucky I guess since they weren’t mentioned. I stared at my picture in the corner of the screen for a long moment before promptly switching the TV off and standing up and making my way to the kitchen and yanking various drawers open to rifle around until I found what I was searching for. When my fingertips dragged over the cold metal I pulled the scissors from the drawer, making my way to the bathroom. For the first time in days my head was clear, the sound of snipping the only one filling the room. Dark brown locks fell to the floor around my feet.

When the ends of my hair barely brushed my shoulders, I dropped the scissors into the sink and then I left the house for the first time in over a week. The sun nearly blinded me as I stepped out, immediately putting my hand up to shield my eyes. The sound of the ocean filled my ears, salty air filled my lungs as I took a deep breath. I lingered on the front step for a while, eyes closed, head tilted back as the warmth bathed over me. It was like the sway of the waves called to me, lured me closer, down the steps, through the gate and toward the shoreline

The feeling of the sand between my toes, the waves crashing against one another, it all melded together in my mind. Soft fingertips tapped my cheeks, my nose, dusted curls from my eyes. The sun was setting, casting a perfect reddish pink light over everything. My back was propped against a pair of legs that rocked me back and forth, my hands held by someone else’s. Humming filled my ears followed by the smooth melody of a familiar voice.

“The monsters gone, he’s on the run and your mommy’s here.” She sang to me, tugging my hands along to sway. “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful girl.” She pressed a feather light kiss to my nose causing me to giggle. The reaction caused her to press a flurry of kisses all over my face. I managed to wriggle out of her grip, running along the sand as she called after me between her own laughs. A glance over my shoulder revealed her to me, or at least a glimpse of her, a phantom of blonde hair and warm smiles. She made grabby hands at me as she reached out, calling out again and again but I couldn’t quite make out what she was saying. It took me a moment to realize she was addressing me by a name that was inaudible to my ears; it came out jumbles and incoherent.

I tried to hold onto the memory, to stop and listen a little closer, to really hear what she was saying but the harder I tried the more distant it became.

“No, no, no.” I murmured as the moment dissipated into nothingness.

I fell backward into the sand, gripping it in my fist and then releasing it as I laid back on the warm sediment. Staring up at the endless blue above, an abyss of sunny days that seemed to taunt me, laugh at my solitude.

“Close your eyes; have no fear, the monsters gone, he’s on the run and your mommy’s here…” I swallowed the lump in my throat, closing my eyes tightly. “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful girl.” All I could picture was the same memory, the blonde woman, the sunset, nothing else came. I decided to try something else. “Stars shining bright above me, night breezes seem to whisper…” I felt my eyes begin to sting. My throat was dry as I sang to myself. “I love you.” When nothing new made itself known to me I began to feel frustrated and honestly a little stupid.

It had worked before, listening to the songs had prompted my memories before why not now?

For the remainder of the day, I laid there in the sand, staring up at the blue sky above, the splotches of clouds.

Serbia. That is where I was kept, for months I’d been there. Time that was practically lost to me now. I thought of the ballerina’s twirling across the stage, the sweat beading on my forehead as I laid on that bed in Brazil, paralyzed by the flurry of memories. It was supposed to be easier now, Norris said the mental block in my wind was cracked, I should be able to remember, so why could I still feel the barrier, I knew I had more access now because where there had been nothing but a cold blank spot in my mind where nothing lived now things dwindled in the shadows, just out of reach. I wasn’t sure what was worse.

When I sat up the sun was nothing, but a mere suggestion hinted at along the horizon. I rested my chin atop my knee, watching the waves crest and break.

I opened the burner phone that Rick had given me, pressing the only number on speed dial. The phone rang 3 times before the line connected, there was silence at first, I knew he was just being caution, in case I’d been made, and the phone was stolen.

“I need a favor.”

He hummed. “Another favor?”

“I want you to ask your contacts if they heard about any hydra operations based in Serbia over the last 20 years, if they don’t know anything call the number, I send you and tell the woman who answers that you have a friend in common that wants to know if she’s heard about it. If she asks questions just tell her ‘Red’. I can pay for any information you find.”

After another moment of silence, he agreed, and I hung up before texting him Anna’s number.

I wasn’t sure if I was ready for this, or just how painful it would be to uncover the past that had evaded me for all these years. But at some point, while I was laying there in the sand, that same woman’s voice that had stuck with me all those years humming in my mind, I realized just how badly I needed to know. No matter what it was, or the toll it took on my mind. I had to know what was taken from me.

And I wouldn’t stop until I did.

[transbianmuffin]

Memories pt. 6

cw manipulation

********

"Deena?"

"Mhpf."

"Deena, my dearest, it's time to wake up. The others have already left."

"Sinea..."

"Take your time, maybe not too much though. Today you leave."

"W- what?"

"I'd love to help you get dressed but I'm a bit behind the bureaucracy. I'll waiting in the... how do you terrans call that? Living room. I'll be in the living room finishing some last paperwork for your release."

no

no no

no no no

I don't wanna go

I don't wanna leave

where are my clothes?

fuck I can't walk straight

those fucking drugs

fuck fuck fuck

...

...

she's there sitting in the living room typing something on a weird pad

she seems so calm

fuck this shit.

"My dear, I just need a couple of signs here and here. Also one here, to issue your 'Independant Terran' status. You also need to tell me where you wanna be dropped off on Jupiter."

I don't understand any of this language I don't want to sign it fuck this thing

as I throw the tablet on the ground I can hear the smash, but I doubt i've actually broke it

Affini tech seems so durable

Is that surprise in her eyes?

...

"Deena. What was that?"

"I don't want."

"You don't want, what?"

"I don't want to go."

"You can't be my ward forever."

"I don't want to be your ward... I-"

"What do you want to be, then?"

"I- "

tell her tell her tell her tell her

"Come on, tell me. Tell Sinea."

fuck she raised up she seems angry

was she ever so tall?

so imposing?

I'm scared

fuck fuck fuck

"What. Do. You. Want. Deena?"

"I WANT TO BE YOUR PET!"

I said it I said it fuck I said it I said it fuck fuck fuck

"No."

no? no? what? what does no means? no?

"N- no?"

"No. Not like this."

"What? What do you mean?"

"You know how to ask for it, my lovely seed."

my legs fail to sustain me as I fall immediately on my knees

she's grinning

"Please, Sinea, please I want to be your pet. Let me be your pet. There's nothing more I could wish for. Please please please please please I- I- I- "

"Better, but I want to hear that word. You know which one."

"I BEG YOU! I'M BEGGING YOU SINEA. PLEASE TAKE ME AS YOUR FLORET."

silence

I can't see

my tears are obfuscating everything

vines?

Is she embracing me? she's embracing me! oh my yes please please don't leave me please never leave me

"Deena, my beloved. I was waiting for this moment since the first time I saw you. Oh you'll be my wonderful, gorgeous First Floret."

it's warm

it's peace

it's kindness

"Now please, be a sweetheart and pick up the pad. I need to scrap the release documents and prepare the contract."

"Y-yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, mistress."

"That's my good girl."

finally, love...

********

"M- miss?"

"Yes, my pet?"

"Headache, please stop headache."

"Sure thing, dear. Here, drink my sap. That's my good girl. Now before you doze off, I have a question for you. Do you rememeber the first time we met?"

"Y- yes..."

"Can you tell me how it happened?"

"I- I was lost. Lost in a tulip field. Starving. Dying. You, you found me and pick me up and then, and then there was Hipatia, Kyle and Maddi. And there was love, and then I pet. I good pet."

"And the bad thoughts?"

"Bad thoughts? No, D- Deena is good flort ena is ood pet no bad thoghhtsss~"

"Hush now, hush, rest. You are my good girl. My beloved floret."

"Are you tired?"

"Dirt, yes. Those memories were so deep engraved in her consciousness. Thank you for the Class B variant, Psylocra."

"It was a pleasure."

"It was for her own sake. She really was suffering a lot."

"Can you believe she was about to kill me?"

"Technically she saved your life."

"Ah! No, I don't think so. We'd have still overpowered those rebels. I've really never risked anything."

"In any case, none of this happened. Right?"

"No, not for her at least. Look how cute she is when she's sleeping."

"She is the cutest. I love her so much."

[ravenstargames]

✦ Lost in Limbo Devlog #11 | 05.08.24

AHA! Nope, we didn't forget about April's devlog. In fact, we have been busier than ever—doing early preparations for our Kickstarter, working on the demo, sorting out legal stuff...

Speaking of which...

This month we have been really busy making our studio official by the law! Now, to pay taxes and cry! YAY!

We are very very excited about it—and also terrified! We are still sorting out the studio's bank account, as burocracy isn't the fastest thing in this world, sadly. This is the first thing I wanted to talk about in this devlog, because it's such fantastic news for us! :')

Now, let's jump on the process we've made this past month, shall we? ✨

This past month, Raquel worked very hard on our second Key Art. This was originally made for Steam, but I modified the format a bit so it could also be used in other places! I honestly love this one—we have our first Key Art to represent the darker aspects of the game, and then this one to show off the characters' dynamics! Not everything's going to be horror and mystery in the game!✨💜

Also, we have been working on designing the merch for the Kickstarter, but we can't show anything yet. All we can say is that everything is looking gorgeous and we are so excited to share it eventually!

Thanks to Airyn, we've made great progress with the backgrounds! In fact, there's only one left to finish. The one you see above needs a few final touches (that will be made by yours truly!), and then I'll animate it a bit to get it ready for the build! The rest of the backgrounds are finished, animated, and integrated in the build :3

The survey icon is missing, but it'll be there!

Well, this should tell you everything you need to know when it comes to programming! The whole demo is programmed. Functional. Nothing crashes. Stuff works and I'm over cloud nine. I have been working on the final touches (revisiting scenes, checking sprites, music / sfx volume...) and the beta testing phase will begin soon. Soon as in tomorrow.

We've mainly used this month to review the auditions we received for our casting call, contacting the selected VAs, etc. Every VA has accepted their role, received the document with the lines we'll need for the demo, and we'll work hard to announce the cast publicly as soon as possible! We want to at least do a promotional short video showcasing every LI and their VA!

Sadly, making the studio official has (and will) take more time than we anticipated, and as we want to release the demo on Steam, the review process will most likely slow us down. There's the option of doing an itchio release and then a Steam one, but I'm not sure if that'll hurt the project. We are still keeping the demo release date a secret, until things settle down!

Also, I couldn't finish this devlog without talking about the Magic & Mystery Otome cross-promotion! ✨ We were invited by the amazing folks at Best Laid Plans Studios to participate in this event that showcases 12 amazing visual novels like Alaris, Obscura, Dual Chroma and more! I know I have been pretty annoying with this (can you blame me, though?!) so I won't keep rambling about it—just check everyone out, please!

I think that's all! Well, that's not all, but we gotta keep a bit of mystery surrounding the demo! We have been busy bees this month, with the making of the studio, the polishing of the demo, contacting and coordinating the VAs...

We are so excited for the demo release. I'm personally excited and terrified, but blame it on the OCD. I keep jumping from catastrophic scenario to catastrophic scenario. I'll have no control over what happens when the demo goes live, but I have control on what I can do before that happens—and that's working as hard as I've been doing this whole time.

And that's it! Please take care, enjoy the week, and stay hydrated. The Raventar team, NOW AN OFFICIAL STUDIO, wishes you all the best and sends a huge hug your way! 💜

[greenbubblefactory]

Matchup for Lina

Congratulations! You have a match with..

Cater Diamond!

★Cater Diamond is the kind of guy who just gets people. He’s a natural when it comes to making connections, so even if you’re someone who struggles with people skills at first, he’d be patient. Once you open up and let him see your lively, teasing side, though? Oh, he’d be absolutely hooked. Your playful energy would keep him on his toes, and he’d love matching your banter with clever comebacks and that signature cheeky grin of his.

★Cater’s love for Magicam would definitely play a big role in your relationship. He’d be obsessed with documenting your baking and cooking adventures, no matter how they turned out. Burnt cookies? A collapsed cake? He’d still grab his phone, set up the perfect shot, and post it with captions like, “#BestChefEver even when the cookies are...extra crispy” or “Cutest baker alive, don’t @ me.” Those little candid shots? His way of reminding you how much he loves your spark.

★Your shared love of music and performance would be another big thing for you two. Cater would hype you up like no one else, whether you’re belting out a song in the living room, practicing choreography, or even just humming while you clean.

★Cater would absolutely melt over your stuffed animal collection. He’d think your love for aquatic and arctic plushies is the cutest thing ever. Anytime he spotted a dolphin or penguin plush, he’d grab it for you and hand it over with a grin like, “This one? It’s totally you.” Before you know it, you’d have a little “plushie zoo” in your room, and he’d never miss a chance to snap a picture of you hugging one of your favorites.

★One of the things Cater would admire most about you is how you balance being an introvert with having a sense of adventure. He’d totally respect your need for alone time, using those moments to scroll through Magicam or plan something fun for the two of you. But when you’re ready to get out there? He’d be your perfect partner.

★When it comes to affection, Cater would take things at your pace. He’s naturally touchy, but he’d ease into it, starting with casual nudges and light brushes of his hand against yours. Once you were comfortable, though, expect all the hugs, cuddles, and playful kisses.

★Of course, there’s more to Cater than his sunny personality and social media charm. On his quieter, more reflective days, he’d let you in on the sides of himself he doesn’t show everyone. He might open up about how exhausting it can be to always wear a cheerful mask or how he sometimes struggles to feel genuinely connected to others. It’s in those moments that your presence would mean the most to him. Just sitting with him, offering quiet reassurance or holding his hand, would remind him that he doesn’t always have to perform for you,you love him for who he really is.

★If he ever seemed down, you’d notice how his energy shifts; maybe he’d scroll through Magicam absentmindedly or fall unusually quiet. When he’s feeling like that, he’d appreciate how patient and understanding you are. A gentle nudge to talk, or just spending time together doing something low-key, would help him feel grounded. He’d even crack a soft smile.

★Cater would be especially sweet during your tougher moments, too. He’s super perceptive, so if you were feeling moody or jealous, he’d pick up on it right away. Whether it’s through talking things out or distracting you with something fun, he’d make sure you always feel loved and secure. And if you ever worried about being “too much,” he’d shut that thought down immediately, smiling at you and telling you reassuring word.

★Life with Cater would never be boring. He’d celebrate everything that makes you, your quirks, passions, highs, and lowsand he’d make sure you always felt like the star of his world. From teasing each other to dancing in the living roon being with him would feel like an endless adventure full of love, laughter, and understanding.

English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there are any spelling mistakes!

[pseudophan]

wait i'm new here and i'm curious, if you're okay talking about it what happened before in the uk / why did you move back?

longass story but i've complained about this whole ordeal so much on here i think if i do the whole thing again people will get mad at me like omg we get it. anyway here it is again:

i moved to england (milton keynes specifically which all brits find very funny) with my mum in 2016 to go to high school because norway requires you to do six thousand subjects even if you "specialise" in something and i just did not have that in me. every subject combined with an instant fail if you miss more than like three lessons? absolutely the fuck not. in mk i did a level 3 creative media btec which is known as a bit of a joke because it won't make you kill yourself as much as a-levels, but lowkey i enjoyed it SO much. i've heard media btecs are very hit or miss depending on your tutors but mine were really good! half my class was only there because they flunked out of their a-levels and wanted something easy, but by like week two i'd say most of them were really into it

after college i started a film and tv production course at uni in london, none of the fancy unis because rip my grades lmao but it was a good time. year one went alright, but then when i applied for a loan for the second year months went by and i didn't hear anything until literally DECEMBER, halfway through the year, when they got back to me and were like oh sorry you don't qualify for the loan. oh and we're also taking back the money you got for the first year, so now you're in immediate debt to us for that and to the uni directly for the months you just did where we just couldn't be bothered to tell you you didn't qualify for any funding. hope this helps!

basically because i'd already lived in the uk for a couple of years before university i could apply as an english student rather than an international one, which is much cheaper so that was great. i also, IN THEORY, qualified for a loan through the student loans company, which is, IN THEORY, much easier and less annoying than the norwegian one because you don't start paying it back right away, you can wait until you're actually making x amount of money. all good. the problem was that the only reason we could afford to just fuck off and move to england in the first place was that my mum got to keep her norwegian job and work from home, meaning we weren't sure if i DID actually qualify for the loan because the way she was paying taxes was like kind of confusing. i still don't know exactly how it works, but i guess you pay it all to one country and then they split it? cause you're effectively paying taxes to both norway and the uk but you're not supposed to have to pay More so idk. who knows. not me. but yeah so we called them Multiple times to ask if i was in fact eligible for a loan and every time they were like yeah it's no problem. my bad for not getting it in writing by the way, always do that. then like i said they fully accepted my loan for the first year after looking through all our documents so clearly it WAS in fact fine, or at least enough people working there believed it was.

i have no idea what actually happened with the second year application, or which one got evaluated wrong. might have been the first one, might be the second, i'll probably never know. the real kicker though is that if they just got back to me earlier i could have gotten a norwegian loan and it would probably be fine, but because they were months late i only had like two weeks until the application deadline for the norwegian one and because the whole situation was so complicated and confusing, and i was struggling really hard with any paperwork or essays because of my super cool then-still-undiagnosed adhd, i just didn't have it in me to fight it. i was like whatever, guess i have to just drop out. didn't actually have to drop out, they suspended me for unpaid fees. i kept going until they turned off my key card though and banned me from campus lol, my tutors were just like eh keep showing up until it doesn't work anymore, it's not like they can suspend you out any more 😭

fuck knows what my plan was after dropping out. in my head i was like, well i can probably get a shitty job for a bit and yeah it probably won't go very well but it's not like i've tried, who knows! and then uhhhh covid happened LMFAO, so nevermind that shit! turns out getting a job in covid lockdown london is Difficult. my mum moved back in the middle of covid and a few months later i had to follow and now half a decade later here we are </3

[callmelitlesunshine]

so what was going though Jess’s head when she was pregnant with her and Russell’s daughter?

Heyyyyy thank you for asking!! i love asks about Jess🥺🥺🥺

be ready, it will be kinda long story. and, yeah, i'm very sorry about i kept this answer so long.

Jessica gets wounded on one of the missions, after which she ends up in the hospital. She recovers, takes tests, according to the results, it turns out that she is pregnant😐

I had a story about this before, I didn’t publish it anywhere. But there Jess took a test, feeling unwell at some point. I decided to change it a little…

The topic of pregnancy and family is somewhat of a sore subject for Jess. She never had a family in the usual sense - her parents went missing during WWII, she lost her grandmother at 16 and since then she has always been alone (the Perseus team did not really consider something like a family for her).

But the fact that over time she became a person with harsh views and did all sorts of things did not mean that she never thought about just leaving and forgetting about everything and starting a family. With someone.

In general, after the bullet wounds in Trabzon, Jess thought that she would never get pregnant and that it was simply impossible. Although she had not been examined for sure, she still thought that it was unrealistic. However, everything turned out differently. I also thought about how Adler and she had talked about family, about possibilities earlier. Then it was he who came to the conclusion that it was simply not possible for the two of them and that it was not even worth thinking about. Because their work literally does not allow it. It is too dangerous to subject a child to it.

"Have you forgotten who we are, where we work and what we have been through? People like us are not made for family life. Remember that."

And it is not even so much about children, but about the fact that they can live together peacefully and lead some kind of life.

Of course, the doctor only tells Jess about the pregnancy, and she asks not to tell her husband. She drags it out for quite a long time, not knowing what to do, because she is literally afraid to tell him. Thinking that it would ruin everything. But Adler will find out anyway from the documents and examinations… (since she was treated in a hospital at the CIA (I'm not sure if there is one, but I think so?)

There will be another conversation. In which Adler will be upset, and precisely because Jess was afraid to tell him and kept silent.