#I’m sorry I didn’t mean for this to become a novel

[tutuandscoot]

This has got to be some of the most raw, emotionally beautiful practice footage there is of them. Is it even a practice? or is it a performance? or is it the most human, physical visualisation of two intrinsically connected souls communicating with each other??? I honestly don’t know, but I love it.

I’m the first to justify literally everything they do that seems unconventional for a supposed platonic relationship with the basic facts of the work and care they put into building trust and respect. But the amazing thing about what they do is you can not know all that, or know it all and just ignore it and watch them dance. Believe whatever you want to believe-whatever story they themselves are seemingly entranced in.. so let’s do that this time.

The way she falls on that 4th piano key. A legitimate trust fall- she falls so far off before he makes contact with her. The actual reaction in both of them, feeling the heavy weight of struggles they are navigating. How once she falls and he takes her weight, that causes his blades to slide open and back, his head inclined to look at her as if there’s nothing he can do but carry her through her pain.

The dynamics of the first lift. I’ll confidently say their lifts are so stunning because T is doing so much more work than any other girl does in lifts, she literally initiates the whole thing with her momentum, then the almost, stormy ocean current-like shifts in dynamics between the spin to her throwing and almost falling again back in his arms to again thrown up over his shoulders.. but it happens so seamlessly because they are both so strong.

The freaking dancing in their circle step sequence.. I don’t give two fucks about the skating they are doing- I know it’s amazing and I have all the respect in the world for them as technically brilliant skaters, but the skating is the blade in contact with the ice, above that, and the way they skate.. they are dancing. They are Ice. Dancing. Even when they don’t have their eyes on each other their eyes are still somehow on each other.. when thy look away they are still connected.. it’s so god damn intimate. What audience? If there was ever a program that proved they shut all the 7billion or so people on this earth out when they dance it’s this one. The suspension following Scott’s twizzle at the centre back of the rink and he reaches out to the front, only momentarily entertaining the idea that anyone else is actually there to save them. The way they play with the music as if making certain notes freeze in time, then race to catch others like their lives depend on it.

Even when they break.. the way they take a good 5 seconds to stay in that bubble, the way he gently fondles with her.. like with their hug just settling their heart beats back down, coming back to each other to refocus while still connected to the yearning violin drawing them back to start again.

Then just as they dipped briefly out of character, letting the story overtake them and they phase back into it in that beautifully soft little cradley hug, spinning in their shared energy as the lyrics start to emphasise what their bodies are yearning for each other, the movement signifying them stumbling over their own two feet as the other is their save them.

The exquisite, time standing still pause as the whole arena breathes with them, realising the euphoria flooding them as finally their stunning smiles emerge.

I don’t know if anyone has noticed at this point, but this pause, only along with twizzles are the only times they have been out of contact with each other. They stretch and intertwine like elastic silks, their limbs only an extension of each others.

That minuscule throw where Tessa becomes airborne, only for her feet barely to touch the ice as she’s intentionally dropped back, not at the mercy of his control, but their own energies saving each other’s whether in the air or on the cold ice.

Then taking off, he like an eagle with her flying on his back. Landing again and her being tossed around because euphoric happiness isn’t all light and gentle- the essence of their love is that physical expression of which part of the fun is seeing how far they can push the boundaries of movement together.

Joining in an expansive waltz hold which should look so out of place in a contemporary routine but instead represents how their closeness and bond remains as they navigate through life taking them all directions- holding each other close just to almost completely release, only their fingertips left in contact, to pull each other in again as they grasp for their person.

That brief moment where he has to chase after her in the middle of a required technical step sequence, they are now just dancing. What audience? what coaches? what other skaters? are they- TS even here? As if dna under a microscope- they are just two lost souls who found each other in this big wide world.. communicating the best way they know how, doing the thing that brings them the most passionate joy in this life.

Tessa arching up to the heavens in their straight lift, thanking whatever powers brought them together.. embedded in music the slightest sound of angelic choir voices during that lift as she exhales.

The music then settling as they too quieten down. That last spiralling lift, expansive to nestled.. them both almost folding around each other in a foetal-like position as she hangs on closing off the world around them. Wanting to be as close as they can he reaches down to give her the most gentle little kiss on the first spot he reaches.

It truly brings tears to my eyes.. how special they must feel in a moment like that. Her unable to do anything but hang on and he confirms the magic of that moment with a gesture far too intimate to be considered platonic. But in these moments that label means nothing to them.. what is any label you can put on a feeling this special?. In the middle of a rehearsal for a competitive program, at a competition with a result so important in their plan for 2018.. let alone completing their gold collection. In this moment none of that matters, nothing else in existence matters except them in their little world. I can only imagine, for her in that moment spinning in her lil tucked position, being met with a kiss she has no control over receiving. Receiving it from someone she trusts with her life, she knows exactly what that kiss means in the context of who it’s coming from, but also in that moment it has no meaning, it is just an expression of overwhelming love.. how freaking loved must she feel in that moment??

As they come to a stop, not reaching the end of their journey, but just another step in realising their essential role in each other’s existence, these two.. sometimes emotionally disturbed (borrowing that from their description of Stay), maybe even by their own emotions together, have made it though another chapter alive, safe, still in each other’s arms.

Laying her back she takes one last exhale, him resting on her beating chest, hopefully in time with his own.

Yes, this was just a practice.. just another run of their FD. These two great athletes, this terrifying, formidable team… so good their practice just becomes a conversation.. just them communicating, synchronising, feeling anything and everything they want to feel.

[pappydaddy]

made for loving you (s.h.)

a/n: we are just pretending that they had the ability to remotely check their voicemail systems in 1985, okay lovelies? awesome!

tv show/movie: stranger things | pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

requested by the lovely @echos-scomplink (ily lovely!)

synopsis: steve fears his chance with y/n is ruined leading to breathless proclamations in the rain. based on i was made for loving you by kiss.

taglist: @the-weeping-author | @lilypad-55449 | @popeheywardssecretgf | @smarie7547 | @eichenhouseproperty | @slytherinambitious | @k-k0129 | @ihatepeanutss | @moralina |  @poppet05 | @rottenstyx | @boxofsilentwords | @badass-yn |  @lexi-2004 |@i-always-come-back-xoxo | @rootbeerfaygo |  @savagemickey03 *line through your user means i could not tag you lovelies!

warnings: depictions of being beat up | blood mentioned | fluff

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____

  King Steve never believed in the whole soulmate idea. He found it certifiably insane for someone to think that someone was made specifically for one person, it was baffling to him. Not only did the idea of commitment send a shockwave akin to the eight-point-zero magnitude earthquake through his body, but the idea of committing to one person blew his feeble little mind. How could someone become so in love with one person? Was it just that it is actually just socially acceptable to have affairs and simply never talk about it? He didn’t understand it. He couldn’t comprehend the rhotic lacing romance novels and movies. How could someone be so obsessed with someone that they devote their whole life to this one person? How could someone be so obsessed with someone that can be happy spending their whole life around someone? Because, certainly, his parents are not happy spending their whole lives together.

  It all fell into place like puzzle pieces in the Summer 1985 when he first laid eyes on Y/N L/N. She worked in the Ladies’ Speciality store on the same floor as Scoops Ahoy. He would see her going to the food court, passing by the Parlour on her way to her shift or leaving for the day. He hadn’t even talked to her and he was infatuated. Not a word was spoken to him from her lips and he was being driven mad by the thought. It wasn’t until Y/N came in to get some ice cream with Robin (the two forming a friendship from working so close together) on her day off before they headed to the community pool that he spoke his first words to her. 

  From there, he was entranced. It all made sense to him. Every poem ever written about the obsession of love. Every line of literature that oozed with the sense of pining. He knew that he was made solely for her. To love her. To hold her. To simply be with her. It was his higher purpose. His calling. He was simply there to be hers. Despite his fumbling attempts at talking to her, Y/N found his dorkiness endearing enough to take a chance on him by making the first move - asking him to call her.  

  Unfortunately, that’s as far as Steve got before getting trapped in a storage room and plummeting into a Russian Underground Base. Her phone number in his passenger seat and the suggestive words of a date hanging in the air of his car from where she uttered them two nights ago. If he hadn’t been trapped and, consequently, kidnapped by Russians, there would be no way in hell Y/N would be at the Fourth of July party with some jock who didn’t even know her favourite ice cream flavour. 

  “I’m sorry,” Steve blinked, a dumb look on his face as he looked at Robin. Robin cocked her head to the side with a roll of her eyes, waiting for Steve to speak as she still held the payphone receiver in the air. “I must have heard you wrong,” He continued, speaking with a chuckle, hoping she was wrong. “‘Cause it sounded like you said that Y/N left you a voicemail saying she was going out on a date tonight-”

  “It’s ‘cause of the giant flesh spider running rampant through Hawkins, isn’t it?” Dustin nodded as if he understood why Steve was so pale after hearing this news. Baffled, Steve and Robin both looked at him as he stood there, sweat staining through his graphic shirt. 

  Opening and closing his mouth like a fish, Steve shot a panicked look between Dustin and Robin. The three of them were off to the side, away from the rest of the scheming groups as Robin checked her voicemail, hoping to hear anything from Y/N to make sure she was okay. “No,” Steve nearly yelled, his voice impossibly high. “Well, now I’m worried about that.” 

  Robin, finally hanging up the phone, sighed. “She said he was taking her to the carnival,” Dread filled Steve. Obviously, Robin noticed since she continued on. “According to Hopper and Joyce, the carnival was untouched by the giant flesh spider-” She gave Dustin a pointed look for wording it that way. “And if this flesh spider is looking for this El girl, Y/N should be safe.” 

  “Again, not what I’m worried about,” Steve stressed, a hand coming up to run through his matted and grimy hair. Blood, sweat, and product weighed his normally fluffy hair down. “I’m more concerned about the fact that she’s out on a date with another guy because I was just trapped in a Russian Base for like three days!”

  Dustin scoffed, causing Steve’s eyes to point angrily at him. “Calm down, Drama Queen. It was like 48 hours,” Dustin looked between Steve and Robin, shrinking slightly as he took in the context of the situation. “Which clearly felt like three days and jeopardised Steve’s chances with Y/N. I can clearly see that now.” 

  Silence enclosed around the three as they stood there. Robin ran the voicemail over in her head, trying to decipher how her new friend felt about this date knowing her feelings for the floppy haired new graduate that currently stood across from her. Dustin, trying to gauge the situation, looked between Robin and Steve before slowly starting to back up in an attempt to remove himself. 

  Steve. Steve was a ball of anxiety. So much so that this made Robin realise that Steve had actually changed. King Steve wouldn’t have cared. King Steve would have just shrugged it off and went off to find his new conquest. She could actually see the doubts and insecurities bubbling to the surface of his mind. “Wow. Nancy Wheeler ruined you, didn’t she?” Robin whispered, but she wasn’t one-hundred percent sure that the words met Steve’s ears. His mind seemed to be screaming too loud for him to hear anything else. 

  “I should’ve just manned up and asked her out,” Steve was beating himself up. Literally. Robin watched, a look of pure shock and bafflement on her freckled face, as he beat a closed fist into an opened hand. Just enough for his already swollen, bruised, and cut face to wince but not enough for it to attract anyone’s attention. “Now, she’s probably having the time of her life with this quarterback who will get a full ride to the University of Alabama or something-” He muttered to himself, the punches continuing, concerning Robin slightly. 

  “Woah, woah, woah,” Robin’s voice cracked slightly as she lunged forward. Gently, her hands grasped Steve’s wrists, keeping him from hitting his hand again. Steve, eyes watering in sheer insecurity, looked at her. Her heart broke for both her new found friends. She knew Y/N wasn’t having the time of her life. A, she hated stereotypical jocks and, if memory serves Robin right, this guy was the quintessential quarterback. B, she wasn’t with Steve - her long-standing crush. Something she admitted to Robin drunkenly. “Go to her.” 

  “What?” Steve’s voice was wobbly. It was soft. 

  “Go to her, Steve. You remember where she lives, you dropped her off that one time when her car wouldn’t start,” She started to explain. “Go to her, tell her how you feel. Lay it all at her feet.” 

  “W-what about everyone else?” He stammered, wide eyes looking towards the cluster of people. Robin waved her hand dismissively, making him look back at her. Her blue eyes were so confident and sure. They were compelling him to listen to her. Confirming that everything will be okay if he just listened to her. 

  They stared at each other, locked in a kind of communication only people destined to be best friends could achieve. “We can survive. We will survive.” She urged him despite the fact that she didn’t believe those words one bit. Swallowing thickly, Steve slowly nodded. Brown eyes casting over the cluster of people. Some he fought side-by-side with for the past two years, some who just joined the battle. They were all probably more capable than Steve at everything. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

  Squaring his shoulders, he stood to his full height. “I’m going,” He spoke with a firm nod. The kind of nod that sealed some of the best and worst plans in history. “I’m going to her.” Just as the rubber sole of his converse slapped the pristine tile as he started to move towards the exit, unsure of how he’s going to get to Y/N’s place with no car, Hopper’s sharp whistle of his lips stopped him. 

  Seeing a Walkie-Talkie flying through the air, landing right in the scrambling hands of a nervous Dustin, disappointment and dread filled him. He wasn’t going to be able to slip away that easily. He barely listened as Hopper, Dustin, and Erica bickered about how it was best for them to communicate, hoping that whatever the solution was could spare him. His body buzzed with the need to tell Y/N everything. The need to bare his soul to her. The need to be near her - nay. To be hers. 

  The jingle of keys brought him from his locked in zone, letting him catch the keys Hopper was throwing him in time. “Steve’s in charge.” Those words weighted Steve’s soul down to the depths of the bowls of Hell for he knew this night was far from over. 

  “Come on,” Steve gruffed, his drive zeroing in. His sole focus was simply on beating this shit for another time and getting to Y/N as fast as he could. “Let’s kill these bastards.” 

____

  By the time it all fell silent again, rain was pelting down. Once the paramedic’s gave Steve the okay to leave and the firefighters were able to retrieve one of his keys from the Scoops backroom (thank god for cold rooms), he didn’t waste any time speeding off. He knew he should probably change his clothes from something that bore his blood, sweat, and tears, but he simply couldn’t waste another moment. That’s how, after a bout of reckless driving and a few near-misses, Steve was parking on the street, peering into the darkened driveway of Y/N L/N’s house. 

  A moment of hesitation fluttered through him. One thought was about the possibility of her not being home. The other one being the very likely possibility of her being asleep given the late hour. Another thought was about her parents not appreciating a beaten and bloody person professing their love for their daughter. However, a warm glow emitting from an upstairs window and her car being the only one parked in the driveway reassured him enough for him to muster the courage back up to get out of the car. 

  “You just survived two days in a Russian base and an interdimensional creature made of human flesh. You can do this.” He breathed, pumping himself up. Shaking his limbs out, his eyes zeroed in on the front door of her house. Just like a magnet, his body started to be pulled towards her, almost as if it were sure that it was meant to be around her. With a determination greater than the determination he felt to get out of the Russian base, he started to move quicker up her driveway until he was practically running up the rather long driveway, rain pelting his shirt and hair. 

  Standing there, his chest heaved as his back tingled with a mix of excitement and nerves. Before his consciousness could catch up, his finger was jabbing the doorbell repeatedly - much to his own horror. Despite not wanting to continuously ring the doorbell, his finger couldn’t seem to leave it alone until she pulled the door open. It was like his eyes were desperate to see her and his body was doing everything in its power to do just that. 

  “I’m coming, I’m coming.” Even with the muffled voice barely making it through the wooden front door and the sound of socked feet rushing down the stairs, his finger never ceased to stop pushing the doorbell. Part of him hoped that if the Jock did accompany her back to her place, his incessant doorbell ringing was annoying him. The large majority of him, however, was mortified that he couldn’t seem to stop ringing the damn doorbell. Suddenly, the door was pulled open, the burst of air from the movement making her hair wisp back from her face perfectly and Steve was stunned into a stupor, finger pressing on the button. 

  “Steve,” A look of shock crossed her face before it deepened once she caught the sight of his face in the glow of the entryway light. “Oh, my god, Steve!” She breathed out, concern lacing her voice as her hand came up to delicately cover her mouth as she took in his nearly swollen shut eye. 

  He couldn’t muster up any words. Hell, he couldn’t even take his finger off the doorbell. Hesitantly, Y/N reached out. He wasn’t sure if she was scared of him or scared to hurt him, but once her slightly cold fingers met the wet skin of his wrist, he blinked out of the trace he had been lulled into. “I needed to come see you,” His voice was much more hoarse than what it had been earlier. His throat was dry from the lack of water, but his body was becoming more and more exhausted as the seconds ticked by, but he felt energy shooting through him now that he stood in her presence. “Robin told me about your date with the Jock tonight and I couldn’t lose you just because I was kidnapped by Russians for two days.” 

  “You were what,” Y/N blinked, expression dropping from shocked to horrified. “Steve! You need to go to the hospital or the police station! Not to my house! This is serious-” She started fretting, her hands coming up, looking like they were going to lay on his face. His skin tingled in anticipation of her touch on him and his chest heaved as he tried to control his breathing, his eyes darkening, but her hands stilled halfway there. “Does it hurt?” She breathed, hands slightly shaking as her own adrenaline coursed through her.

  Steve, with another surge of confidence, reached his own hands out to grab her wrists gently. Suddenly, as his fingers wrapped around the softness of her skin, he was all too aware that he hadn’t had a shower in two days and probably smelled horrible. On top of it, he was very much aware of the level of grime on his skin. But Y/N didn’t seem to care as her wrists seemed to sink into his hands, relief washing over her at the feel of his touch. “I’m fine. I got checked over by the paramedics, the Feds were there. I am fine,” He reassured her, noting the worry that still swam within the depths of her eyes. “But I needed to come see you. I would have ran here the second I escaped, but I was stopped.” 

  “Probably the paramedics stopped you because you were kidnapped, Steve,” She blinked and in a split second, guilt consumed him for not being able to tell her more. He was sure he would eventually tell her everything, but he didn’t want to scare her off. “But why did you need to see me so badly, you must be exhausted.” She furrowed her eyebrows, eyes flicking over his face. 

  “I needed to tell you how I feel, Y/N. Hearing that you were out with the Jock tonight, I-” He cut himself off, his throat swelling with emotion. “I couldn’t lose you. I couldn’t lose the person I was made for,” His words were like drops of blood dripping from his bleeding heart. “I can’t get enough of you, Y/N. I need to be around you and I’ve never understood the concept of soulmates until I saw you,” Shock crashed against Y/N like a tidal wave. Staring at the beaten and bruised boy, she could only manage to blink her eyes slowly as his words bleed with passion. “Y/N, there is no doubt in my mind that I was made solely to love you.” 

  Those words hung in the air like an anvil ready to squash Steve as his eyes burned into her shell-shocked ones. Her mouth hung open slightly as he could see her brain processing the words her ears just heard. Suddenly, she snapped back to reality, her jaw softly closing as she stood up, eyes as soft as a plush bed - making Steve want to lay within them for the rest of his life. “Oh Steve,” She breathed out, seemingly overwhelmed with the proclamation. Steve’s heart lurched, the anvil dropping an inch. An equally as soft smile as her eyes graced her lips, but it did little to ease Steve’s anxiety. “I thought you were never going to make a move. I thought you didn’t like me like that-” 

  Her words were cut off as Steve grabbed her face in his blood stained and, truthfully, grimy hands. In one motion, his lips nearly jumped on hers, kicking off a feverish kiss. His lips moved against her stunned ones as if she were the water he was so deprived of for two days. As if she were the thing he was derived from for so long. As if she were the air he needed in order to live. 

  He could feel the gentle touch of her fingertips ever so lightly touching his forearms as her lips seemed to match his speed, her body coming to life after falling into the shock of the sudden kiss. Goosebumps marked the trail of her fingertips as they made their way up to his hands. Soon, the warmth of her hands rested over his, just sitting there. Almost as if she was using them to tell if this was real or just a dream. Steve was worried about the same thing but the coldness of the pouring rain hitting his back as the wind blew it under the cover of her porch told him it was all reality.

  Their lungs ached, Steve’s bruised ribs pulsed from his lungs beating against them, begging for air, not realising the lips he was attached to were (in fact) his air. Their chests swelled with warmth, both from their hearts becoming electrified with love and from the burning of their chests screaming from the lack of air. Lips became feverish in desperation as they both realised that, soon, they would have to pull away. Steve hated himself as he reluctantly pulled his lips back ever so slightly, just enough for both of them to suck in air, chests heaving - panting as if they had just ran a marathon. 

  Neither of them opened their eyes, feeling the laboured puffs of breath against their swollen lips as shockwaves of tingles shot through their bodies as if they were still kissing. “Nope,” Steve shook his head. “Not enough yet.” Y/N’s eyes fluttered open out of an act of confusion just in time for Steve’s lips to pounce back onto hers, this time her feet stumbling back from the force, his body crashing flush against hers. A squeak left her lips as she felt like she was going to fall backwards but his hands immediately left her cheeks, flying to her waist to pull her against him even more. 

  “Steve-” She pulled her mouth back slightly, words muffled by his lips still, but the risk of biting either of their tongues lowered, but he shushed her, ready to let his lungs explode if that meant he could keep kissing her. “Steve-” She tried again with a giggle, hands coming up to his chest to hold him back slightly. Finally opening their eyes, Y/N was stunned for a moment as she saw Steve. His lip now swollen, the cut on his lip re-opened and bleeding slightly. His eyes (or the eye that wasn’t swollen shut) nearly blown out as if he were high. Regaining her thoughts, she cocked her head to the side, eyes softening from the heated pools they were seconds ago. “Do you need a place to stay tonight?” She asked, having only caught enough information about his home life to know his parents were barely around and when they were, they barely met the standards of parents, let alone supportive and kind parents.

  Suddenly, and if Steve wasn’t already sure, he knew he had finally found the place in the world he was looking for. He found the purpose of his life. He found the thing he would live and breathe. He found the thing he would even die for. “Actually, yeah.” He said almost sheepishly, realising his house key was on the set of keys the Russians took from him and his parents were away (shockingly). He felt scared, worried that she would think he came here and professed false feelings just so that he could have a place to sleep for the night. 

  His worries were eased with that soft smile slipping upon her swollen lips as she stepped back, Steve’s hands reluctantly letting go of her waist. “Come on in. I’ll even let you shower and sleep in my bed.” She winked, a giggle gracing the dimly lit entryway as she backed up, Steve following immediately - almost like she was luring him into a trance like state just with her beauty. In that moment, he knew he would never get enough of her and he will live everyday trying to give his everything to her.

[toournextadventure]

a novel life pt.1

Summary: You're a Lit professor at Blackmoor University when you meet Samantha Carpenter. Life becomes... a lot more exciting with her around.

Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: swearing, bullying, sister arguments Pairing: Sam Carpenter x GN!Reader (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (pt.5)

You liked Sam.

No, that was quite the understatement. You would almost - almost - go so far as to say you loved her! Not quite yet, obviously, you still weren’t completely, absolutely positive. But you were pretty certain that the things you felt for her could be classified as love. At least that’s what your dad said love was, and he had been happily married for 41 years at that time, so how could you possibly argue with that kind of experience?

It wasn’t like you had meant to fall in love with her. Not that you actively avoided it, you just… hadn’t been looking for her. Both you and Sam had a habit of lying when people asked how you met; they always assumed it was some kind of meet-cute. Her friend Mindy was determined it was something adorable, like meeting at a coffee shop or running into each other at the library.

The truth, the cold hard truth, was much more ridiculous.

“Why are you watching me?”

You blinked hard and looked up at the… woman (?) standing in front of you. She was all blurry and all you could really make out was dark hair and beautifully brown skin. If you really squinted, you could see just enough of her posture that, when coupled with the tone, was indicative of frustration. Maybe even anger, if you pushed it.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I didn’t know I was.”

“How could you not know?” She asked, her tone staying incredibly not happy.

“I, uh-” you cleared your throat, “-I couldn’t see you.”

Her laugh was condescending. And pretty. “You were looking right at me.” Her blurry frame shifted. “Come up with a better excuse.”

This strange woman was rather mean, wasn’t she? You kind of liked it.

“It’s not an excuse,” you said once her frame had officially stopped moving.

“Then how did you not see me?” She asked. “What are you, blind?”

You smiled to yourself and set your bagel down. “Kind of,” you said as you lifted your head to face her. Or at least you hoped you were. “I forgot my glasses at my office.”

“Fuck,” she said softly. Her tense tone had disappeared rather quickly. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “Sounds like you’re used to being watched.”

“You have no idea,” she said quickly.

Wait. That was an opening. You hadn’t talked to a woman outside of work in ages. This was your chance!

“Want to sit down over coffee some time and talk about it?”

You really really wished you hadn’t forgotten your glasses. Without them, you couldn’t see the look on her face. Did she think your question was rather rash? Rude, even? Or perhaps she thought it was a welcome idea, even just to get something off her chest. From the sound of it, she had a lot on her mind.

“Sure,” she said eventually. “I’d like that.”

The rest, as they say, was history. You had both gotten your coffee and you hadn’t forgotten your glasses again. Which made the coffee date a little awkward because then you could see just how truly beautiful she was, and you had not been prepared for it. She had watched you become a stuttering fool who could only spout random, unwarranted facts about things.

By some miracle, she had asked you on a dinner date.

The singular benefit of the entire situation was that you had met at the very beginning of summer break. You had decided not to teach a summer class that year, instead opting to use the hotter months to find more material that you could bring to the fall semester. There had to be a wider range of literature from the Romantic Period outside of what the school had already been teaching when you joined the staff. The literature classes at the moment were so… basic.

Because of this, work never came up. Sam never asked, and you never even thought to tell simply because… well, you just hadn’t thought of it. You hadn’t been hiding your profession, you hadn’t even tried to be sneaky about it. After all, your entire apartment was filled with tomes and first editions of novels and the closest thing you could get to original manuscripts of the ancients. And Sam had very certainly seen the inside of your apartment more than once.

The thought had  never occurred to you to bring up what you did for a living. After all, you finally had a girl…friend? You weren’t quite sure if that term could be used officially, but you were going to use it in your internal monologue. Regardless, this was the first time in years, how were you supposed to remember everything she might want to know? Besides, it wasn’t like she had asked yet.

And neither had her sister! Who, unfortunately, you were starting to think didn’t like you. She had never said it out loud, so you couldn’t be sure, but she made sure to give you a, uh, look whenever you would come over. Sam had told you that Tara loved movies - horror movies to be precise - and you had even managed to find a rare copy of a “famous” B-list movie for her!

It still didn’t work.

“Do I need to try and cook dinner for her one night?” You asked, looking up from your book. Sam was still doing her own studying for her night classes.

“If you cook for Tara, she will eat you alive,” Sam said without missing a beat. “She had to cook for herself for years, she will tear you apart.”

“She’s so scary,” you whispered to yourself before looking back down at your lecture notes. “What if I found the original script of her favourite movie?”

At that, Sam put her pen down. Your stomach fluttered; had you said something wrong? Oh of course you had, you absolute fool. You don’t question someone about how to win over their siblings! Well… did you? Maybe you needed to do some research on the topic.

“Your efforts are sweet,” she said with a soft smile, “but you can’t push Tara. She’ll come around when she’s ready.”

You frowned. “How will she be ready if I don’t try?”

“Trust the process,” she said. She leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before going back to her studying, and you were left stewing in your own thoughts.

The process didn’t make any sense.

—---

“Do you have to go?” Sam asked in a raspy voice.

You looked up from tying your shoes. Sam had rolled over to her other side on the bed, giving you the perfect view of her. Her hair was a mess and her eyes could barely stay open, but she looked just as beautiful as always. The sun had barely started to peek through the curtains to hit her skin at just the right angle. It looked like she was glowing.

Maybe you didn’t have to go.

No, you had students waiting, of course you had to go.

“I’ll be back after work,” you said quietly. Her eyes were still mostly closed, and you didn’t want to jolt her awake; she deserved her beauty rest.

“Be safe,” she said.

You finished tying your shoe and stood up, leaning down to give her a gentle kiss on the lips. She sighed softly. “I’ll be safe.” You placed one more kiss on her forehead before pulling back. She quickly fell back into bed, already fast asleep.

Thankfully, all of your stuff was outside the bedroom. It made it easier to stay quiet, tip-toeing your way out of the room and easing the door open and shut with as little noise as possible. You waited a moment, listening through the door to see if she had woken up, but nodded to yourself in confirmation before turning back around.

And facing Tara.

“Your nerd shit is by the door,” Tara said a little louder than you would have liked. She was going to wake up Sam if she didn’t quiet down a bit.

“Thank you,” you said. Because of course that was something normal people said in that situation. “Are you, uh, headed to class?”

You gestured your head toward her backpack. Which was clearly filled with school books. Which you were more than aware meant that yes, of course she was heading to school. Where else would she be going? You weren’t doing a very good job at winning her over, now she was going to think you were stupid.

“No, I’m running away,” Tara said with a roll of her eyes.

“Oh,” you said sadly. Then, her words clicked in your mind and you perked up. “Oh.” Okay, she wasn’t going to think you were stupid, she was simply going to bully you.

Jokes on her, you had been bullied all your life, you were practically a professional.

“I’m heading that way too,” you said as you ungraciously shoved your arms through your jacket. “Want to go together?”

Tara looked you up and down for only a fraction of a second. “Absolutely not.”

You watched, dejected, as she exited the apartment without another word. Although you weren’t entirely surprised, you weren’t exactly happy about the situation. Well, there went one of your chances at winning her over. You would have to try again next time. And maybe not be so… what did you hear Tara call you the other day… pathetic in your attempts.

Which was going to be rather hard to do when you couldn’t even catch your bus, leading to you having to walk the long distance to the university. It led to you shedding your jacket before getting halfway to your destination, and blisters on the backs of your heels from your shoes. Maybe you didn’t need to dress quite the same if you were leaving Sam's apartment; clearly it wasn’t a safe choice.

You were nine minutes and 27 seconds late to your class.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” you said the moment you stepped into the classroom. Everyone was still talking, but they quieted down slowly. “I missed my bus.” You tossed your briefcase onto the desk and started digging for your papers. “Which means, lucky for you, we can skip icebreakers and get right to it.”

There was a mix of mumbled approval and sighs of relief at the release from icebreakers. You would admit, you weren’t too upset about it either. Even though it did help everyone learn names - ahem, it helped you learn their names - it was rather intimidating. No one knew what to say, it put everyone on the spot, and more often than not ended up with no one talking the entire semester. This was better for everyone, and at least you had an excuse.

“Alright,” you huffed, finally pulling the stack of papers out of your briefcase, “pass these around while I tell you about the changes in readings.” Groans quickly followed. “You won’t be buying more textbooks, I’ve got PDFs to share.”

You quickly handed the stack of papers to the student closest to the front, giving them a smile and a mouthed “thank you.” She smiled back and nodded before handing them back. Even as you reached back to grab your own notes, you finally, finally looked out at the class.

And froze when you met a pair of familiar brown eyes.

Tara had a look that you would have classified as “furious.” Although her nose scrunched up like Sam’s, and you could truly see the family resemblance in their anger. That was… well, it sure was something. You hoped you could grow to get used to all of this enough to keep a professional demeanour in class. It wouldn’t do you any good to lose it now simply because your girlfriend’s (?) sister was in your class.

Admittedly, class went on without a hitch. Eventually, after nearly the entire hour had passed, Tara had managed to relax enough to look over the syllabus and even give her input on a few of the readings you had changed up. She was smart. You hadn’t heard much from her, but she was incredibly smart. It was going to be a delight to hear her opinions throughout the semester.

“Alright everyone, I’ll let you out a few minutes early,” you said once you had thoroughly exhausted everything on the syllabus. Had you really needed to take as long as you had? No, but you weren’t going to miss a single piece of information. The point of teaching was to prepare everyone for success, not to throw information out at them and hope they could comprehend it well enough on their own.

The class quickly started packing up, talking about nothing that you had told them about. Which was as expected. You hadn’t been teaching for too long, but you weren’t naive; you knew students usually only cared during class and gave up as soon as they were free.

“Oh, Miss Carpenter,” you said quickly, catching Tara right before she left. “Can we talk for a moment?”

Your heart beat loudly in your chest as Tara sighed, but otherwise nodded and trudged back into class. She didn’t sit, but stayed standing on the other side of the desk. A defence mechanism if ever you saw once. Though, judging by the scar you could see on her hand, you assumed it was for good reason.

“I want to check in with you that my presence won’t negatively impact your time in this class,” you said once everyone had finished filing out of the room.

“Will my presence negatively impact your time with my sister?” She shot back quickly. Why was she so fast? You didn’t answer. She sighed and shook her head. “I’m a big girl, I can handle you as my professor for one semester.” 

“Good,” you said with repetitive nods. “Please inform me if you change your mind.” Tara rolled her eyes, but you weren’t phased. “I do not mean to impede upon your success.”

“Shut up,” she said softly, “you sound like such a parent.”

“I mean it, Tara,” you continued. “You don’t have to like Sam and me, but I don’t want it to impact your life-”

“-Oh my god, I get it,” she interrupted quickly. Her weight shifted between her feet. “Just shut up already, I have another class to get to.”

“Okay,” you said with a gesture toward the door. “Stay safe.”

Tara didn’t bother answering before practically sprinting out the door. You hoped she was being serious about not being too influenced with you as her professor. It was against every part of your being to create a barrier between her and her academics. If she didn’t like you, that was one thing, but if it caused a problem? You would have to talk to Sam about it.

Oh god, you did sound like a parent.

By the time all your classes had ended and you could finally head back to Sam’s apartment, you had nearly forgotten all about Tara being in your class. Now, it certainly didn’t help that you were so focused on getting back to Sam so you could crawl into bed with her and rest. You clearly had better things to think about than a potential, unconfirmed incident at school.

Well, you thought you had better things to think about. When you approached Sam’s apartment door, you could hear elevated voices inside. Elevated voices that were related to each other. And that were surely unhappy about something. Oh gosh. You debated walking away, but what if they were in trouble?

You would not have been the one to save them, but by golly if you weren’t going to try.

“They’re one of my professors, Sam,” Tara shouted while you walked into the apartment.

Oh jeez. You should not have tried to save anyone. Sam was standing near the couch with her arms crossed defensively across her chest. Across from her, Tara was near the kitchen, her backpack and books strewn along the table as if she had thrown it there. Which, judging by her apparent anger, was likely.

“You can’t just date one of my professors,” she continued. “That’s so wrong.”

“You’re an adult, Tara,” Sam said, “you can handle one semester of this.”

You debated stepping in, but couldn’t decide if that would make things better or worse. Clearly Tara had an issue, and you didn’t want to throw it back in her face. That certainly wouldn’t help you win her over. You decided to stay put for the moment.

“I don’t trust them, Sam,” Tara practically shouted. Not quite, but she was building it up. “They just want to show up, worm their way into every part of our lives, and I’m not supposed to be suspicious?” She asked. “After everything we’ve been through?”

“This isn’t-” Sam stopped when she met your eyes.

Tara turned around at Sam’s sudden halt, groaning when she saw you standing there. You lifted your shaky hand slowly, giving a half-hearted wave. Sam’s eyes softened as she watched you, but Tara’s only hardened. And, you supposed you couldn’t fully blame her. She… made a good point.

“I can head out,” you said softly.

“Good-”

“-Don’t.” Tara and Sam said at the same time. Sam glared at the younger Carpenter. “You don’t have to go.”

“I don’t mean to intrude,” you said with a slight shake of your head. “I can come back another time.”

“I’ll walk you out,” she said.

“Seriously?” Tara asked. “We’re talking.”

“And we can talk when I get back,” Sam said quickly. She practically pushed you out the door. “Don’t go anywhere.”

You didn’t get to see Tara’s face at Sam’s order. No doubt it was… not happy. It made you… sad to see them arguing, especially about something as insignificant as you. There was absolutely no reason they should be arguing about you.

Perhaps there was also a small bit of relief at being an only sibling.

Sam leaned against the door and closed her eyes before letting out a drawn out sigh. Your inexperience got the better of you; you didn’t know what to do. Not only had you not had a girlfriend for *ahem* a little while, you also didn’t have siblings. Was this normal behaviour for siblings? For sisters? Surely it was.

No, you needed to think, that didn’t matter. What mattered was that Sam was clearly upset in some form, and you needed to do something to comfort her. What was comforting? Ah, you knew. You reached forward carefully and grabbed Sam’s hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. They linked together perfectly, like they were meant to be.

She opened her eyes slowly and looked down at your hands. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips before she looked back up at you. There was a slight crinkle at the corners of her eyes; the main indication of her smile that she was holding back. You loved that crinkle.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly.

“Don’t be,” you said with your own smile as you pulled her closer to you. “I don’t blame her for being cautious.”

“I guess it’s my own fault,” Sam said. You both started slowly making your way down the stairs. “I openly disapproved of her partner, so.”

“Payback,” you said with a nod.

“I didn’t know you were a professor,” she said shyly.

You chuckled. “I didn’t know you didn’t know.”

“Tell me about it?” She asked.

You both stepped onto the ground floor in tandem. As much as you wanted to stand there with her all night, you knew she needed to have a talk with Tara. If any of you wanted this to work, you would have to put in the effort and do the things you didn’t want to. At the moment, it was Sam and Tara hashing it out.

“Over dinner?” You suggested. “Next Thursday?” She smiled. “I don’t have class Friday morning and a co-worker suggested this delightful little bistro.”

“That sounds great,” she said. “But you’re paying.”

“It’s only fair,” you said with a shrug. “I suppose this mess is my fault.”

“100%,” she said, biting her bottom lip immediately after.

You didn’t have to be experienced to know what to do next. Her arms instinctively wrapped around your neck as she pulled you closer. Your hands fell to her hips, holding her securely against you. You didn’t have to move very far to kiss her. She tasted lovely; the taste of chocolate, a splash of wine, and the ever-present hint of cigarettes.

She tasted like love

—---

The countdown to your date with Sam had seemed to drag on endlessly. The days seemed to go by too slowly, you only got to talk to her on occasion, and you had been thrown back into the swing of things with… far too many classes to preside over. It was your own fault, of course, but that didn’t make it any more tolerable.

Add to that the fact that Tara, while behaving herself, was keen on giving you some rather distasteful looks during class? It was a rather long week.

But the day had finally arrived! You had finished your class and practically sprinted - to the best of your ability - to the bus stop to get back to your apartment. A simple shower to freshen up, a new change of clothes, and you were all set to go. You stopped by the little bodega on the way, purchasing a small bouquet of flowers, and then you were on your way once again.

Sam had texted you earlier in the day, telling you to stay in the lobby and let her know when you were there. You assumed, rightfully, that it was because Tara was up in the apartment. Things might have been resolved, but that didn’t mean she had to like you yet. It was a fair compromise for the moment.

You texted her as soon as you stepped into the lobby, and she said she would be down momentarily. That was alright, at least the lobby was cool compared to the hot post-summer air outside. It wasn’t miserable, but it was enough that you weren’t too keen on being stuck outside.

“Nice shoes,” a voice said. “They look clean, where’d you get ‘em?”

You looked up from the hole you were staring into the floor to meet the eyes of a youngster coming into the lobby. They had rather kind eyes and a smile that, though accentuated by scars on both sides, was one of the most genuine you believed you had ever seen.

“Thank you,” you said as you rolled your shoulders back. “They’re from, ah, Allen Edmonds? Rockefeller Plaza?”

“I think I know that place, yeah,” the person said. “You’d recommend them?”

“Of course,” you said with a nod. “They’ve been the finest quality shoes I own.”

“I’ll have to check ‘em out,” the person continued. They nodded at the flowers in your hand. “For a girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” you said, “she’s on her way down.”

“She’ll love ‘em,” they said kindly. “I’m on my way up to see my girlfriend, so I’ll leave ya alone.”

You nodded enthusiastically. “You two have a wonderful evening.”

“You too,” they said with a crooked half-smile and a small wave before jogging up the stairs two at a time.

It only took another moment or two before Sam came down, looking as stunning as always. Her dress hugged her curves in all the right places - which was every place - and complimented her eyes beautifully. Paired with a simple bracelet and necklace, and you were one lucky person.

“You look gorgeous,” you said softly, pulling her into a quick kiss but being careful not to smear her makeup. “These are for you.”

Her smile was small, a smile that almost gave you more butterflies than her bigger one. This one was almost reserved for you exclusively, and you would have done anything to see it more often.

“They’re beautiful,” she said, leaning up again to press a kiss to your cheek. You hoped it left a lipstick stain.

You grabbed her hand and led her out of the building, hailing a taxi and ushering her in before following behind. In the privacy of the cab, she let her head fall onto your shoulder as she played with your fingers. You didn’t look down, but you felt her twisting your class ring round and round, almost nervously.

“You know,” you said as the cab pulled to a stop at a light, “I met the most delightful young fellow in the lobby before you came down.”

“Oh really?” Sam asked. She had stopped fidgeting with your ring and had started running her fingers over your clothed thigh.

“They asked about my shoes,” you said with a nod, “and said you would love the flowers.”

Her fingers stopped moving.

“What did this “young fellow” look like?” She asked. Her head lifted from your shoulder; you instantly missed the sensation.

“About yea high,” you said, indicating vaguely how tall they were. “Crooked smile.”

“Scars on their cheeks?”

“That’s the one,” you said with a nod. “I liked them.”

“That’s Tara’s partner,” Sam said with a huff.

“Oh?” You asked, intrigued. Well, you certainly wouldn’t have guessed that.

“The one I don’t exactly approve of,” she continued.

“Oh,” you said with far less excitement. “Well, I thought they were lovely.”

“I’m sure you did,” she said. Her tone indicated annoyance, but you glanced down in time to catch the small smile on her face that gave her away.

You pulled her back into your side and kissed the top of her head as the cab continued its route to the bistro. Maybe it wouldn’t be too difficult to get all four of you to get along. You loved Sam, even if you weren’t quite ready to admit it yet. After all, with her hand in yours and your lips pressed to her skin? What was the worst that could happen?

[babiebom]

Sdv Age and Height Headcanons

A/N: hi! It’s officially my birthday(the 15th) and I am now 23 :((((( I didn’t know what to post because everything is in the works right now but I wanted to post something to celebrate in a way so here!! Only base game stardew characters so no ridgeside or expanded. I do count Rasmodius/Marlon/Gunther/Morris as base game even though they’re expanded upon in mods. If anyone has questions for me (personal or about my fics or whatever) feel free to request or ask!!

Tw: none other than a mention of death in Shane’s part.

Sdv Masterlist

Sebastian

We always have to start with the loml (it tries to autocorrect loml to mommy and lonely btw)

I think he’s about 23-26 I think he has a degree in IT but I’m not sure. He has to be able to have graduated or taken classes or something.

I think he’s 5’10 at the shortest and 6’2 maybe 6’2 1/2 at the tallest.

Idk just seems tall to me because he’s lowkey intimidating.

Sam

Him and Abigail are in the same age range. I think they were born in the same year.

This means he is about 22-25 and his birthday occurs right after summer break(maybe I should do birthday headcanons?)

I think he is a very tall boy(keep in mind that I am short af so what I mean by very tall depends)

So maybe he is 5’10 at the shortest like Seb and 6’3 at the tallest.

I think him and Seb can be interchangeable when it comes to height? Both of them however come behind Harvey and Elliott but not by a lot.

Shane

The shortest bachelor for sure

I think he is very short and stocky he gives me big strong dad energy like your dads not the tallest but man is strong af.

So maybe 5’5-5’8? I mean 5’8 isnt short at all really but keep in mind I’m saying this is the tallest he can be, and the height really does make some guys seem really short when in reality they arent( also my phone tried to add king every time I typed short so there’s that)

Among the older bachelors so about 31-35?

I feel like that’s enough time to go from playing football(sorry gridball) in high school, getting a scholarship to play in college, dropping out to take care of his goddaughter when his friends die and becoming depressed.

He just seems like a 30 something year old going through the trenches :(.

Harvey

I think the oldest out of the bachelors and bachelorettes. He has gone to med school and that is I think at least like 4 years then 8 years? Unless I’m wrong lmao

So I think he would be around 35-38

He’s an older man that has spent his life helping people it’s so cute

He is on the taller side. In my mind he gives gentle giant vibes.

So 6’0 at the shortest and maybe 6’5 at the tallest. I think he towers over people but his posture is so bad that no one notices.

Alex

I think he is between the ass trio and Maru so 21-24

I think he graduated high school only a couple years prior to year one because of how passionate he is about gridball and how he thinks it’ll happen I don’t think anyone older would be like “someday I’ll go pro” they’d be crushed already

I think he is 6’0 exactly. He gives off 6 feet vibes like I can see that if he had a tinder profile it would 100 percent say “I’m 6’0 btw”

Elliott

I think he’s 34 exactly.

He seems like during his 20s he worked in the family business, he did what was told of him because he didn’t really know how to be an adult.

Then when he hit 30 he decided that he didn’t want anything to do with the family business and decided to move to Pelican Town to follow his dreams of writing.

He had enough money saved up to move and cut contact with his parents after they threatened to disown him because of him choosing to chase his dreams.

I think he is up there with Harvey as I’ve already said. I think they could be the same height range and who is taller is interchangeable.

So 6’0-6’5 really. Gives off hunk on the cover of a romance novel vibes.

Penny

I think she’s around 24-26. And I do think she has a teaching license and an education degree so this would give her enough time to have graduated and come back to Pelican Town after like a year of teaching in the city.

She seems sort of mature but immature at the same time, like immature when it comes to romance and dating, and sort of life but also she has the vibes of an introvert that was forced to mature quickly so she is good at making decisions, but at the same time her emotions are out of whack.

I think she’s a petite girl she doesn’t look very tall at all.

So I think she’s 5’2-5’5 I think for women to me 5’5 that’s the cap on people seeming short to me for women.

Abigail

Luckily I didn’t have to think about this too hard because I already answered this in one of my very first posts

I think she is 5’4 to 5’8 (sorry I’m American so 162 to 172 cm?)

She’s the first one I’m doing I’m not converting everyone but it’s like 2.5 cm per inch and 30.5 per foot

Her age is around 22-25 in year 1 I think. I know I’m my original Abigail headcanon I said oldest is 24 but I think 25 is okay.

She is amongst the youngest in her grade level during school years.

Haley

I think she’s on the younger side, like the same age range as Alex. Especially because she gives the vibes if she just graduated and hasn’t grown out of her mean girl/insecure personality

So she’s about 21-24

I think she’s similar to Abigail where she gives off like petite girl energy but also tall girl energy. Like I feel like she was a cheerleader and people always said that she could model so maybe she’s on the taller side

So maybe 5’4-5’7

Idk what it is about women that are 5’7 are specifically beautiful to me, they seem super tall but not so tall that it makes me feel like they’re a giant, their arms and legs are long idkidk.

Emily

She’s the older sister of Haley, and I think she’s pretty close to Shane and Gus so I think she’s on the older side

I also think that she could be the oldest out of all the bachelorettes.

So maybe 29-35

She seems a lot more mature than Haley, as well as understanding and confident in her life and her choices

As well as she doesn’t seem insecure or as if she’s weird at all like I think younger people are.

I think her height range is very small compared to the others like

She’s 5’5-5’6

She gives off the vibes for that like not too short not too tall just average.

Maru

In my opinion Maru is the youngest out of the bachelorettes AND bachelors because I think everyone is around the same age and she’s the younger sister of Sebastian who I think is closer to everyone else’s ages so it makes her younger.

I think she’s about 19-21

Like yes she’s working as a nurse, but it’s a small town and she’s an actual genius, I don’t think they care that she’s young. Besides Harvey handles everything on his own she mostly does paperwork and assistant stuff.

Her height has to be around like 5’2-5’4 I think she is a very small girl despite Robin and Demetrius being a little on the taller side.

Leah

I think she might be the second oldest out of the bachelorettes

Like her backstory is her working in a dead end job, she was in a longtime relationship and could’ve gotten married had she not decided to leave

So she’s about 27-31 she’s not the same age as Emily, but she does hang out with Elliott so I think she’s a little older.

I think she’s about 5’6 she makes me feel as if she’s about average in heigh because of how artistic she is I feel like anyone smaller would be very disadvantaged when carving or doing anything and so would someone taller.

Pierre

I think he would be about 5’9-5’11

Like he doesn’t seem too tall but he does give me taller side energy

Would probably tell people he’s 6 feet bc he gives me the vibes of someone who would because he wants to seem like he’s perfect.

I think he’s like 45-48

He is for sure older than Caroline especially because I believe he is into the traditional gender roles which means younger wife and older husband.

Caroline

Caroline I think is a very average woman. And not by looks because I think she actually would be quite attractive like I feel like she would be vERY beautiful.

I mean in terms of her body, she isn’t too big or too small, she didn’t have too much fat or too little her body is just average.

So I think she would be 5’4-5’6

I also think all of the moms are in a similar age range so she would be 44-47

Honestly with the way they’re designed I would’ve said 30s but that would make no sense if their kids are in the marrying age/having kids range.

Jodi

I think she is on the shorter side, she gives me short thicc mom energy. Especially because Kent is a military man.

So maybe 5’2-5’5 bc I think Kent towers over her and so does Sam. The kids did not get her genes because I do think Vincent would be quite tall when he is an adult.

I also think she would be like 43-46 she has a kid that’s an adult and a kid that’s a child so I think this age range would be more plausible for her to have had one kid young and the other one at an older age.

Kent

Is large and in charge like BIG MAN

So I think he must be 6’2-6’5

Like towers over most people and intimidates them based on size alone.

Similar age as Jodi. I think they probably were in the same grade in high school so same age 43-46

Vincent

Right now like as of year 1 would probably be tiny

Like people think he’s going to turn out like Jodi but would actually turn out to be like Kent and Sam and be huge.

So maybe like 3’10?

Kinda small for his age but not like super small?

He is probably 6 or 7 years old

So CUTEEEEEE

Evelyn

Granny Evelyn is probably TINY

Like I think she is 4’9

She’s so cute and small and was probably taller when she was younger

Also old as HELL from how she looks

So maybe from 80-95

Because she as well as George have to older than everyone on the older side.

George

Was probably on the taller side before he was wheelchair bound.

Probably 5’11 exactly like not super tall but tall enough.

Him and Evelyn have such a big height gap and it’s ADORABLE.

I think maybe 2 or 3 years older than Evelyn

83-98 so super old lmao

Pam

I think the oldest out of the parents

So maybe 49-54

She hates the fact that she’s on the older side out of the parents, especially because she isn’t really close to the others as much as she would like to be. She feels out of place among them.

I think she’s about 5’6 I can see her being VERY beautiful when she was younger, and she probably still has a nice body and face, especially if she stops drinking.

Lewis

His ass is probably in his 60s but sees himself as younger

I think 60s isn’t really old at all, like it’s still enough time to do different things.

But his glory days are over

Probably 5’9 like average height.

Clint

I think he might be younger than Emily. His crush seems very immature to me. And it makes him a little less incel-y but idk.

So maybe 27-30?

He’s definitely old enough to know not to act a fool but like it makes sense at this age that he’s an asshole after being rejected for so long y’know.

I think he’s maybe 5’9? Not too short but not too tall. Definitely thinks being taller could’ve helped his situation.

Gunther

I cannot tell anything about this man at ALL

He’s very mysterious

I think he is literally 40-59

Could literally be anywhere in that

He’s probably 5’10 too since I think he’s able to see something on the shelves, and he can see over the counter.

Gus

He’s on the older side. Idk if he has kids or anything, but he gives dad vibes

So maybe 50-59 not too old but like middle aged.

Very sweet and that’s what gives me the father vibes.

Also he doesn’t seem like a gossip but knows a lot which gives me that age range.

I think he’s either 5’6 or 6’3 nothing else. I think 5’6 is more likely though.

Demetrius

I think he is a little younger than Robin. It’s lowkey what makes him and Sebastian to be so bad at getting along.

So maybe 40-42?

Old enough to be a dad but not really old enough I guess.

I think he is VERY tall. Especially since in game it looks like he has a little height over Robin.

So 6’3 at the shortest? 6’5 at the most?

Robin

43-46

I think she had Sebastian at 20? Maybe younger but I think 20 is a good age. She was young and barely out of teenagedom that her parents were probably upset.

I think she’s a little tall but not too tall like 5’7

Very beautiful and her legs are longer than her torso but not in a tall SpongeBob vibe y’know.

Marlon

I think he’s in his 50s? So 50-60

I think he is younger than Lewis and that’s also why they can’t really get along other than Marnie.

Probably 5’10

Like tall enough that when fighting monsters he has no disadvantage but not so tall that he can’t get anything done.

Linus

He is also mysterious.

He looks old but at the same time he lives in nature and his looks probably don’t match his age.

So anywhere from 50-70?

Some 70 year olds look young and can move around and I don’t doubt that he is agile due to him being a nature man.

Leo

On the taller side of kids.

So sort of like 4’5 or almost 5’0

I think Leo is older than Jas and Vincent

But not too much older that it’s weird.

So maybe 10?

Marnie

I think she is on the older side. I don’t think that she is too old, for sure younger than Lewis

I think she’s like 50-56?

Young enough that Lewis wants to sleep with her for sure

Also young enough that she still hopes by some miracle that she has a child

I think she’s like 5’2-5’4

Rasmodius

I think he is either like super old like hundreds of years or like a mortal person old

So maybe like 60-70

Quite a bit older than Caroline and old enough that he has lived and seen some things

Like an affair and a divorce and losing everything

Probably 6’0 exactly ngl

Jas

Also on the smaller side, and will end up like 5’2 at most when she’s older

So like 3’7 first year she is a very small BABY

She’s also the same age as Vincent so 6 or 7

Willy

I think he is old but doesn’t look it

So in his 60s-70s

Has time to fish and perfect it has time to gain things and lose things

Has lived through a LOT

I think he is 5’5-5’9

A bit on the smaller side but y’know short kings exist.

[gravitycavity]

Sunshine (Pomni x Ragatha) Chapter 6 - Radiant

[Click here to read from the beginning on AO3!]

Cover art by @blukiar

Vanilla and dried leaves and crisp morning air. 

Ragatha savored the feminine aura that enveloped her, hands shivering as they strangled the silky fabric of Pomni’s tunic. She leaned in, pressing harder. A delightful, breathy sound snuck out of the corners of her mouth as Pomni’s lips yielded to hers. They were soft. Sweet. The warmest thing she’d ever tasted. 

“Pomni…” Ragatha drifted at last from the cozy embrace, breath shuddering in sync with the rest of her body. Her good eye peeked open just a crack. Her hands turned slack and listless. One-by-one, her fingers lost their grip on Pomni’s tunic until, inevitably, she felt herself falling. 

Pomni caught her, of course — Ragatha knew that she would. 

Safe and secure in the arms of her fearless knight, Ragatha pulled her legs toward her core, making herself small. Her eyelids dragged fully open. It had felt like an eternity since she’d last looked at that gorgeous face, and she couldn’t stand to wait a single second longer.

Pomni’s hesitant smile, framed by her perennial blush, regarded Ragatha from up above. Ragatha’s face bloomed to match it. The jester brightened, too — just a little. 

God. Radiant. 

“Um…” Pomni’s expression dimmed again as she swallowed, her pupils wandering here and there. “How was that?”

Wonderful. Absolutely, unbelievably, impossibly wonderful. Ragatha had never felt this particular kind of rush before — the kind that made her head feel fuzzy, that made her limbs start to tingle, that made her heart beat so quickly and unendingly that it actually hurt. 

If any of her past romantic rendezvous were any indication, Ragatha had been sure that all those romance novels she used to read on her lunch breaks had been exaggerating. She didn’t think it was actually possible to become breathless at the mere thought of another person. Or that a single pair of eyes could actually make the whole world cease to exist — yet here she was, cuddled up in this little woman’s big, strong arms, stupidly in love. 

There was no chance in hell she’d actually say any of that sickeningly-saccharine fluff out loud, though. Goodness gracious, could you imagine? No, Ragatha’s love language was a little bit more subtle than that — and, contrary to her usual way of conducting herself, a tad meaner, too. 

“Hmph.” Ragatha crossed her arms, pointing her face toward the ballroom’s lofty windows. She pursed her lips to conceal a sly smirk. “Just as I suspected…”

Pomni crinkled her brow. “Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, it’s nothing! Just…” Ragatha spun her ankle, “Nevermind.”

“Nevermind!? What do you mean ‘nevermind’? You can’t just leave me hanging like that!”

“I just did.”

“Ragatha!” Pomni stamped her foot, “If you’ve got something to say, then say it!” 

“Well, alright. If you insist,” Ragatha pretended to force out a hard sigh; in reality, she was barely able to contain her boisterous laughter. Teasing this girl would never, ever get old. “Don’t get me wrong. Kissing you was a dream come true, but,” she paused, “and please don’t take this the wrong way—”

“Spit it out, already!”

“— I wouldn’t call you a particularly…gifted kisser.”

Pomni thrashed backward; her face was fully boiled. “WH-WHAT?!”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, Sweetheart, but I’m too nice to lie to you. That kiss could have gone better.” Ragatha smirked, seizing hold of Pomni’s tunic once again. She tugged her body closer, utterly captivated by the nervous panic spreading across the jester’s cute little face. “I have a lot to teach you…”

“W-Well…!” Pomni squirmed, sweat beading on her brow, “You are pretty good at that! Teaching, I mean…”

“So I’ve been told~” Ragatha laid down a trio of smooches across Pomni’s cheek, giggling all the while. With each gentle embrace, Ragatha’s lips treaded closer to Pomni’s until, at last, they briefly met again.

Pomni squeaked. 

“Now, then,” Ragatha broke off her smooch, “We’ll start with the basics, and work up from there. How’s that sound?”

Pomni was as red as a tomato. She responded with a dazed, stilted nod. “S-Sure…”

“That’s the spirit.” Ragatha bopped Pomni on the snout, despite her steadfast efforts to resist.  This girl was just too cute. “First things first. Your kiss was great — very warm, very passionate, very genuine — but I have to say, you seemed awfully nervous.”

“Nervous…?”

“Way too tense. It’s a kiss, Sunshine, not a job interview. Just relax, hold me close, and press your lips to mine. That’s all there is to it.”

Pomni chewed on her lip for a few silent moments. Soon, her dominant hand was wandering up the length of Ragatha’s back, settling firmly between the ragdoll’s shoulders. Then, exploiting her new leverage, Pomni moved her face closer.

Ragatha was fully prepared to swoon, but something strange — the slight pang of discomfort simmering behind Pomni’s eyes — gave her pause. 

Ragatha drifted away, consciously or not. Her face reflected Pomni’s uneasy mask.

The brightness with which Pomni’s eyes had shined mere moments ago had dimmed almost completely.  Was it anxiety? Reluctance? General melancholy? Was Pomni just playing the part of her usual worrywort self, or was something the matter…?  

No, no. Don’t overthink it. It was probably just nerves. That dorky new girl just had her first kiss, after all — people always get that stupid look on their face their first time.  

Ragatha’s train of thought skidded to a halt, however, as Pomni clumsily shoved her lips into hers. Twice as quickly, and thrice as ungracefully, the awkward jester tore her mouth away from Ragatha’s like her very life depended on it. 

“Th-There.” Pomni wiped her mouth. Her eyes diligently avoided any contact, “Better?”

Ragatha cleared her throat. Somehow, that was even worse. Maybe even the least satisfying kiss of her entire life. How to let her down easy…? 

The dolly helped herself to a few patient breaths. “Let’s begin with the positives. You took the initiative this time, which was nice. And there was less, um…” Ragatha squinted, “...suction. Always a plus. As for the things you could improve…”

Ragatha rocked her head back and forth, starting, stopping and re-starting the same sentence a half-dozen times before finally finding the right words. “Sweetheart,” she finally said, “do you think you could try giving me a little bit…more?”

“More…?” 

“Look, I don’t mean to split hairs, but that was more of a peck than a kiss, don’t you think?”

“I… guess so.” Pomni deflated, looking more like a lost puppy with every passing moment. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m cut out for this. I should’ve never even asked to kiss you in the first place—”

“What? No, no, no! It wasn’t bad, Pomni! I just wished that it had lasted a little bit longer. You pulled away so quickly, I barely had any time to enjoy it.”

“Y-Yeah…” Pomni sighed. 

Ragatha tilted her head with a soft, reassuring smile. “Let’s try again. I’ll lead, you follow. Before you pull away, try counting to two in your…”

…her voice trailed off, suddenly distracted by a strange sensation. Pomni’s arms were trembling. Trembling hard.

“Oh, dear,” Ragatha’s mature voice cracked with compassion. There was something wrong. “Pomni, what’s the matter? Your arms are…”

“N-N-No, th-th-that’s-s-s n-n-not m-m-me!” Pomni stammered — and for once, her pesky nerves weren’t the ones to blame. Wobbling on one foot like a clumsy cartoon character, she craned her neck forward, trying to see the ground over her hefty armful.

A dissonant aria of creaking wood sounded as a slight, but persistent tremble shook the stage. A handful of musician’s chairs toppled over around the girls, solidly-crafted frames harshly smashing against the weathered timber floor. A half-dozen music stands fell over next — a prelude to the disjointed melody that disgraced the air as a handful of musical instruments crashed, clanked, and clanged against the floor. 

But in no time at all the quizzical trembling was all said and done.

Pomni just stood there in the aftermath, utterly dumbfounded, wearing the world’s most clueless expression. Ragatha did much the same. 

“Well,” Ragatha scratched her temple, “that was weird—”

A second, dramatically stronger earthquake — so strong that the stage beneath the girls suddenly crunched in half — rocked the digital plane. 

“Pomni!” Ragatha yelped like a frightened kitten, clinging to Pomni’s waist as needle-thin splinters sprayed forth like wooden shrapnel. 

“D-Don’t worry! I’ve got you!” Pomni held Ragatha as tightly as she could, planting her legs in a wide stance. Taking a moment to find her balance, she dashed away from the swarm of timber shards, leaping off the collapsed stage with total confidence. 

Unfortunately for her (and by extension, Ragatha), that confidence was in no way earned. It was far easier to leap than it was to land, and Pomni, not exactly being the athletic type, did so in a heap, skinny frame roughly impacting the hard marble dance floor. 

Ragatha grunted in pain, feeling a few more stitches pop as she tumbled out of Pomni’s arms. She rolled across the floor and came to a rest a stone’s throw away. 

Eventually, the world stopped spinning, and the dazed dolly blinked her eyes open. For a moment, she was seeing double — but a quick rattle of her head cleared up her topsy-turvy vision.

Pomni practically launched toward Ragatha. “Oh my gosh!” she fell to her knees, “Ragatha! Are you okay!?”

Unable to stand up by herself, Ragatha could only lie on her back, staying motionless like a discarded ragdoll on a playroom floor. Painfully aware of what made that hilariously sad, she tried not to laugh, staring up at Pomni’s panicked face from her upside-down point-of-view. 

“Ragatha! Hello? Are you alright?”

“I am now.” Ragatha ended up laughing anyway, twisting a red curl around her finger. Maybe the blood was rushing to her head — or maybe she just felt like doing it. 

Pomni’s face was red. “Be serious!”

Ragatha snorted. “I’m okay! I promise you.”

Pomni let out a huff, brushing away a thicket of splinters that had embedded themselves into the many folds of her padded musketeer costume. Thankfully, none of the fibrous projectiles had managed to pierce through to the skin. “I’ll probably be a little sore in the morning, but I’m okay, too.”

“Well, that’s…good.” Ragatha stretched her arms and legs. “Hey, Pomni?”

“Yeah?” Pomni scooted closer.

“Your greatest fear wouldn’t happen to be earthquakes, would it?”

“Trust me. If I was bothered by earthquakes, you would know by now,” Pomni rubbed her chin, looking pensive, “To tell you the truth, I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“Nope. My fear is centipedes. It’s always been centipedes.” Ragatha shivered, quickly discarding the thought. She examined the carnage around her — a stage split in two, dusty clouds sulking about, a hostile sea of shattered ceramic and broken glass drowning the dance floor. It didn’t add up. “So, then…what’s going on?”

“Maybe the earthquakes are just set dressing? There’s lots of things we’ve encountered that had no real significance beyond confusing us or creeping us out. Remember that room with the theremin-player?”

“He really did just sit in the corner, doing his thing.” Ragatha nodded — she had to give her that one. “But what if the earthquakes aren’t just incidental? What if they have something to do with the key puzzle? We still haven’t solved it, have we?”

“Oh!” Pomni perked up. “Oh.” Pomni frowned. “Oh…” Pomni’s face twisted into an exaggerated caricature of itself. “Like… maybe the room is telling us we did it wrong? Or maybe we’re running out of time, and the room is collapsing in on us?! Oh, God! And maybe—”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” The ether trembled, disturbed by the ghastly vibrations of a familiar, haughty voice. “Are you lot really that daft!?” 

Pomni and Ragatha let out a yip and a yelp, respectively. Both heads swiveled on a dime. 

Who but Margarethe MacGuffin — the malevolent matriarch of MacGuffin Manor herself — could be looming overhead? Practically snarling, the ghostly socialite cocked her signature book parallel to her face, ready to chuck the hefty tome through — not at — the nearest head. 

“You solved the puzzle! The. Door. Is. OPEN!” she shrieked like a ghoul, “It’s been open for five minutes! If you two sapphic scoundrels would quit necking each other long enough to look up at your surroundings, perhaps you would know that!”

Pomni nearly fell over backwards, hands splattered all over her beet-red face. “Uh…! U-Uh!”

Meanwhile, Ragatha squealed like a stomped chew toy, waving her hands frantically across the marble floor, “Miss MacGuffin! I don’t know what you think you saw, but we weren't—’ she stammered, “We aren’t—”

“Save your breath.” Margarethe squared her tome against her hip. “I couldn’t care less about your love life — what do I care about is my brooch, and I’m growing quite tired of watching whatever awful soap opera you two are dead-set on re-enacting. I mean, forgive me, but it is just terrible. Absolutely horrifying.”

Ragatha’s entire face contorted in horror. “You were watching us?!” 

Margarethe wagged her finger in Ragatha’s face, barely missing the ragdoll’s triangular snout. “Hold your tongue. I’m not finished.” Another small tremor shook the mansion. “I humbly suggest that you two pick up the pace before I end up kneeling before the gates of hell, begging to be let back in. And before you end up failing this entire mission.”

“Failing?” Pomni shot a panicked glance toward Ragatha, then flung her gaze back toward the phantom. “Wait, we can fail?! No one told us we could fail!”

“Hmph! So typical — absolutely no accountability taken.” Margarethe tutted, “Really, it’s my own fault. I shouldn’t have expected some pampered whelp from the swing generation to have a grasp on personal responsibility.”

Pomni squinted. “What year do you think this is?”

“Change the subject all you want, it’s not helping your case.” Margarethe casually inspected her monstrous manicure, “nor is it going to change anything about your deliciously-dire circumstances.”

“What circumstances!? What case?! You’re not making any sense, lady!”

“Pomni!” Ragatha raised her voice. “Were you raised in a barn?! Mind your manners!”

“What are you, my mom?”

“If I were, I’d be ashamed.” Ragatha crossed her arms. “Now quit running your big mouth before we get into even more trouble!” 

Ragatha took a moment to compose herself before turning her attention to the ghostly hostess. The fact that she was still laying on the floor didn’t seem to phase her. “Miss MacGuffin,” she said with a calm, controlled cadence, “I’m afraid we don’t understand what you’re trying to say. Why exactly do we need to hurry?” 

Pomni rolled her eyes. “Kiss-@$#.”

Margarethe lifted her chin approvingly, cracking open her spellbook. “...See, I could try explaining with words, but your little pet here seems to be a few cents short of a dollar. How about I just show you — that way, her little peabrain has something exciting to look at while the adults are talking?”

Pomni’s mouth warped into a sharp-toothed grimace — but Ragatha, thinking fast, deftly raised her voice overpower the string of swears that came barreling out. “Gosh, th-that sounds like a wonderful idea, Miss MacGuffin! Whatever would we do without such a hospitable hostess?!”

“Oh, heavens. Don’t talk me up too much, now.” Margarethe batted a hand, beaming with pride. “There’s a good reason hell doesn’t want me.”

Licking her finger, the phantom flipped through the pages of her voluminous tome before finally planting her nose inside. She squinted. Her voice took on a low, scratchy timbre as she uttered the hex inscribed upon the yellowed paper. 

“Hallowed spirits beyond the pale!” she bellowed, unable to defy the programming that commanded her to ham everything up to the highest degree, “Hear my call!”

The lights went out all at once, plunging the ballroom into complete darkness. One by one, they flickered to life again. A wave of rollicking flames lit the retinue of charred wicks garrisoned throughout the room — the candelabras upon the tables, the towers of wax planted in the sconces, the tea candles suspended beneath the chandeliers in little glass bowls. 

Ragatha rubbed her eyes. The light show was impressive, if nothing else. 

Margarethe’s spell continued on its course. “Oh, wise spirits, on this most terrible All Hallow’s Eve, lend us the unparalleled, awesome power…” the phantom cast a single, outstretched hand straight into the air, “...of the developer console!”

“The—” Ragatha did a double take, “The #$@&ing what?!”

Like magic, an old-fashioned film projector — paired with a matching typewriter —  popped into existence in front of Margarethe. The cobweb-covered machines floated freely in the air, bobbing with a slight, satisfying rhythm. 

“Display…adventure…stats,” Margarethe thought out loud, her long, ghostly fingers loudly tapping the typewriter’s keys. With one final, dramatic keystroke, a lengthy list of dull statistics was projected onto the wall in black-and-white. 

“There we are!” Margarethe draped her arm across Pomni’s shoulders; her ghostly aura dragged the temperature down by at least fifteen degrees. “Let’s have a look, shall we? Team one: Zooble and Kinger — Adventure status: Complete. Time elapsed: 3.9 hours,” she quoted the list aloud, “Team two: Jax and Gangle — Adventure status: Complete. Time elapsed: 5.3 hours.”

Ragatha glanced at Pomni. Pomni looked down at the floor-bound dolly, waving with an awkward half-smile. Ragatha felt her face take on a warmer hue as she returned a flirtatious wave of her own.

“Ah, look! Here’s you two!” Margarethe pointed, cackling precisely according to her villainous programming. “Team three: Ragatha and Pomni — Adventure status: Incomplete. Time elapsed: 13.1 hours.”

Ragatha balked. “Thirteen hours?!”

“Huh?” Pomni winced like she’d just stepped on a nail, “Is that bad!?” 

Margarethe snapped the makeshift computer out of existence, replacing it with a rusted, palm-sized pocket watch. “Well, it certainly isn’t good.” she remarked matter-of-factly. 

The mansion shivered with another soul-churning tremor as Margarethe calmly examined the watch’s ticking hands. Ceramic shards and broken glass showered the floor as the ballroom’s finely-set tables toppled over two-by-two, three-by-three, four-by-four.

“I really have to spell every little thing out, don’t I?” the phantom clicked her tongue. “Ladies, thanks to your incessant indolence, your persistent procrastination, your dormant dilly-dallying…” she thumbed the timepiece closed, “I’d give you about one hour, give or take, before this whole mansion comes crashing down.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Pomni snapped, “There’s a TIME LIMIT!?” 

“So sorry to disappoint~” Margarethe batted a hand. “As much of a treat it is to haunt — er, host — you two, all good things must eventually come to an end. And I’m afraid our time together is fast approaching that inevitable conclusion.”

“But! But that’s not fair! You can’t just—” Pomni grunted. She grabbed Ragatha by the waist, holding up the ragdoll like a human shield. “Ragatha! Tell her!”

“Well-l…” Ragatha cleared her throat to make way for her ‘teacher’ voice — the gentlest, most placating delivery she could possibly manage. “I appreciate your passion, Pomni. I really do. But to be fair, I did mention this once before…”

Pomni shoved her face closer to Ragatha’s. “You did?”

“Well, just that there’s a time limit. I never explained why.” Ragatha said. She would do her best to explain it in simple terms. “The Digital Circus is a computer game — and not a particularly well-coded one. If I recall correctly, the game’s internal logic suffers from something called a ‘memory leak’, and because of that, adventures can only persist for a certain length of time.”

Pomni seemed intrigued.  “Memory leak…?” she said, finally getting around to actually picking Ragatha up off the floor. She hooked one hand beneath woman’s back, one beneath her legs. 

“I think that’s what Gangle called it.” Ragatha replied. Closing her eyes as she was lifted off of the ground, she took a moment to organize the ins and outs of her explanation. “I’ll put it this way — think of a computer’s memory like your desk at work.” 

“Ugh.” Pomni rolled her eyes, now standing fully. Once again, Ragatha was cradled safely in her arms. “Can we not?”

“No.” Ragatha huffed. “We’re going with the desk analogy, so listen up.”

“Fine.”

“Thank you. Now consider this — you only have so much space on your desk to keep your things, right? If you run out of space, things pile up, and it becomes harder and harder to keep track of everything you need. Your staple remover gets lost, then your extra box of staples, then the stapler itself. You have to resort to binding documents together with paper clips like some kind of deranged lunatic, but then even those get lost in the shuffle.”

“Wow…” Pomni closed her eyes. Her breath ebbed and flowed at a gentle, meditative pace, “It’s like I’m really there…”

“The point is, you get overwhelmed trying to keep track of everything.” Ragatha said. “Computers work the same way. A well-designed game would free up the ‘desk space’ — or memory — it uses the moment it’s finished using it. But Caine’s adventures don’t do that. AI, physics, lighting — it all just piles up, never getting cleared away, until—”

“Until the adventure crashes?”

Ragatha nodded, wincing a little. “It’s not an issue as long as adventures get completed in a timely manner, but around the 13 hour mark, things start to become unstable…”

“And…” Pomni bit her lip,  “And what happens after a crash?”

“I…don’t really know, to tell you the truth. It’s never happened to me.” Ragatha glanced up at MacGuffin Mansion’s resident ghoul. “Miss MacGuffin?”

“Well, don’t look at me.” Margarethe crossed her arms, “13 hours ago, I didn’t even exist. How on God’s green Earth should I know?”

Another tremor rattled the mansion’s foundation. Windows shattered. Furniture fainted. A hairline fissure flashed across the western wall and began a slow, deliberate crawl toward the ceiling.

Holding Ragatha closely, Pomni peeled her shoe off the checkered marble, retreating by a single, wobbly step. “N-Not good…” she mumbled. Her pinwheel pupils tightened toward the centers of her eyes, smothered by a sea of white. “Not good, not good…”

“Ah! But fear not, honored guests — you may just complete this terrifying adventure yet!” Margarethe flew into the air, punctuating her announcement with another flamboyant spin. “For I, the great Margarethe MacGuffin, have graciously decided to lend a helping hand. A shortcut, if you will.”

“Shortcut…?” Ragatha placed her hands over her stomach — her stuffing was stirring.

Margarethe winked. She snapped her fingers. In the blink of an eye, Pomni, Ragatha, and their ghostly hostess were zapped out of the ballroom. A split-second later, they reappeared in an entirely new environment: a long, dark corridor, lit only by the moonlight peering shyly from the windows. 

Pomni flinched. “What?!” Her head snapped here and there as she tried to make sense of her new surroundings. “Where are we?”

“Why, we’ve skipped to the good part, darling.” Margarethe’s cheshire grin stretched all the way across her ghastly visage. 

“G-Good part?”

“You see, I had some other rooms planned out for you two, but at the rate you’re going, you’d never, ever make it through them in time. So,” she shrugged, “seeing as you’re likely going to fail anyway, I might as well get some free entertainment before this pathetic attempt of yours crumbles to pieces…” Margarethe’s eyes lit up as another shiver shook the mansion. “...literally.”

Cracking up at her own joke, Margarethe keeled over, shattering the corridor’s windows with a high-pitched cackle of masochistic delight. “I’ll see you on the other side, darlings! That is…” she snickered, cupping her cheeks with childlike glee, “…if you survive!” 

In the blink of an eye, she was gone.

///

My Ko-fi - Tips are very much appreciated! :)

[First Chapter] [Next Chapter]

A bit of a shorter chapter this time! I decided to just post the one scene I had finished as chapter 6 and push everything else I had drafted for this chapter into chapter 7. So, on the bright side, Chapter 7 is almost finished, too! :)

Anyway, thank you for reading!

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

I’m Your Fatal Sin

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Setting: Prison Era

Warnings: Typical TWD violence, descriptions of injuries

Summary: Daryl doesn’t like you going outside the safety of the prison.

Prompt: “I will leave now, or I’m going to say things I will regret later.” (Had to write in Daryl speak but it’s the same thing!)

A/N: Second request by @alldevilsarehere90. I took so long writing the first one that I did the second they asked for…and took equally as long. Apparently, “drabble” is not a word I’m familiar with and I should just call these novels. The prompt is waaaay up in the beginning but I just kept going. Sorry again, my friend! Also, I have not had this checked for errors and my brain is too tired tonight. I’ll go over and fix stuff tomorrow…. Because no beta, we die like men.

*gif is not mine

You watched him pace the length of the room, fingertips rubbing roughly at his temples as if he was fighting off a headache. That would be you, Y/N. You thought, biting back a chuckle. Your group had arrived back at the prison, battered, bruised, and bleeding but hearts still beating. You counted that as a win. 

Daryl was not so easily mollified. 

He had stayed behind on this run, having only returned from hunting just as your group was heading out. He wasn’t happy that you were going out without him. It was all so amusing to you, personally. When the two of you had first met back at the quarry, you had taken one of the squirrels he had brought back, held it by the tail, and smacked him upside the head with it after he had said something particularly offensive. It was even funnier that you couldn’t remember now what it was that he had said. Regardless, he had retaliated by soaking you in the blood he drained from the rodent he had been skinning. Even in his anger back then, you had caught the look in his eye. 

You weren’t afraid of him. 

Your friendship started then and there. You spent more time in the Dixon camp than you had with your own boyfriend. That had not gone over well. Mark  was the younger brother of one of Ed Peletier’s friends. The moment Daryl had found you doing laundry and saw the shiner you sported, you were given your own small tent next to his and Merle’s. When the perpetrator had come looking for you, the Dixon brothers had formed an immovable wall in front of you. 

You still weren’t sure if Mark had been killed by a walker like Merle had said. 

Regardless, you were free. Daryl took you under his wing, teaching you to hunt and defend yourself. When he had finally handed you his beloved crossbow, you had laughed and asked if you needed to buy her dinner before squeezing her trigger. 

“Stop.” Daryl had huffed, amusement gleaming in those blue eyes. 

You had been out with the younger brother when Merle had been left abandoned. While you were angry, you knew how belligerent the man could be, so Rick’s explanation hadn’t seemed too far fetched to you. You went with the group to try and bring him home. You had taken the brunt of Daryl’s verbal aggression with grace, knowing he was in pain. He would never hurt you. That much you knew. When emotions were running high, Daryl floundered and would try to escape them by any means necessary. Even if that meant bucking against someone he cared about. 

Still, you stayed. 

Months had passed. You didn’t even try to keep up with that anymore, focusing more on the change of the seasons. It felt less like losing something if you only changed your perspective. The group became a family. You had lost the farm and wandered throughout the winter before finding the prison that was your home now. 

You and Daryl had remained steadfast, but he continued to open up, bit by bit. First with Carol, then with Rick. Him coming out of his shell made you happy, watching him become more and more comfortable with the others. You’d be lying, though, if you said you didn’t worry about being replaced. 

Then, after choosing the cells you all would call your rooms, you came back from your first shower to find the mattress missing from the one you had selected. Daryl was sitting on the top step that led down to the lower level, waiting for you. 

“Did you take my mattress, Dixon?” 

“Yep.” So nonchalant, like you had just asked if the sky was blue. 

“You gonna tell me why?” You pressed, kicking his hip gently with the toe of your boot. 

“Ya stay where I can keep a eye on ya.” He shrugged, continuing to fiddle with his crossbow. 

“What if I wanted my own space, huh?” You sat next to him and bumped your shoulder into his. 

“Cell ain’t goin’ nowhere. S’there if ya need it.”

You never seemed to need it, perfectly content on sharing his perch with him. You had brought things back from runs; books, pictures, and little what-nots that now decorated the area. He never complained beyond the occasional scoff or eyeroll. 

And time marched on. Your role in the group was just as vital as anyone else now. You took watches, went on runs, and helped clear the fence. You lost sleep, gave up your portions of the rations to make sure everyone else stayed fed, and you sustained injuries. You weren’t afraid to get your hands dirty for the good of your family. 

Which is exactly why you were now perched on one of the tables in the cafeteria, watching Daryl pace a hole into the concrete floor. 

“No one died, Dixon.” You leaned back with your palms pressed against the table, collected demeanor the polar opposite of his pulsing anxiety. 

“Ya coulda, though, Y/N!” The man snapped, his longer hair shifting to cover his face when he spun to look at you. 

“Calm down before you have a stroke.” You mused with a smile. 

“Can ya be serious for five fuckin’ seconds?” 

You could have sworn you saw smoke boiling out of his ears. Damn, he was mad. “I am.” You sat up straight with your best attempt at stoicism. “Stress can absolutely trigger a stroke and—” You had started laughing while he stomped over to you and grabbed your shoulders.

“Stop, goddamnit!”

“Okay, okay.” You patted his forearm and willed yourself to choke back the amusement. “We’re all fine, Daryl.” Lips pressed into a thin line, he gave you a nod, one that continued even as he released your left shoulder to roughly flick the bandage on your thigh that concealed a deep cut Hershel had earlier stitched. You were taken aback, eyes widening at the tendrils of pain that snaked out from the tender wound. “Ow.” You deadpanned. 

“Coulda been a lot worse, Y/N.” He seemed calmer now but his gaze was still intense, shoulders high and nostrils flaring. 

“I know that!” You finally snapped back, twisting around until he let you go altogether and stepped out of your space. “Christ, Daryl, I could die just going to piss! I know how dangerous the things we have to do are!” You hated arguing with him but sometimes, brandishing your own anger was the only way to get through to him. He watched you, obviously chewing on the inside of his cheek before he brought his thumb up to inflict the same abuse. 

“Nah, not you. Not anymore.” He shook his head and started to walk away. 

“What the—” Pain radiated through your leg when you hastily hopped down a little too roughly in your attempt to keep up with him. “What’s that supposed to mean? Daryl? Daryl!” When he made it clear he had no intention of stopping, you had to sprint to cut him off at the door, pressing your palms against his chest to force him to a halt. “Where are you going? What did you mean?”

“M’tellin’ Rick ya ain’t goin’ out there no more.” 

Your eyebrows shot up, mouth falling open. “Excuse me?”

“Ya heard me, Y/N.” He made to step around you but you moved with him. “Go get offa that leg.” He ordered in an attempt to persuade you into relenting. He knew better. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? Who the hell are you to say where I can and can’t go?” You seethed. Now it was you who was fuming and pacing, though it wasn’t as intimidating with your profound limp. Daryl crossed his arms and squared his shoulders. You suddenly wanted to punch him square in the nose. 

“Ya ain’t got no business out there. Ya can do plenty here to help.”

“Says the man that goes off hunting alone every other day!” You hissed. Your fists were clenched at your sides. 

“That’s diff’rent.”

“Oh, please, enlighten me. This I’ve just got to hear.” You laughed emptily and mimicked his stance. 

“Ya just ain’t goin’ and that’s that.” When you moved to cut him off again, he was ready. His arm caught you at the chest and kept you from crossing in front of him. 

“Goddamnit, Daryl! This isn’t your decision!” You yelled, trailing after him once again. You grabbed his wrist but he shook you off. “I want to help!”

“Ya can help here!” He shot back without looking at you. 

“Would you just stop?!”

“Nah.” 

“Why the fuck do you even care?!” 

That stopped him in his tracks, nearly making you crash into his back. His fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides, his posture radiating with tension. He turned his head to the side and focused on something, anything but you, speaking to you over his shoulder. Somehow, this made you more nervous than his livid pacing. 

“Ya even hafta ask?” You didn’t respond, utterly confused. The archer gave you more time than necessary but when you remained silent, he shook his head and changed course, heading outdoors instead of to the cell blocks. “Do whatever ya want.”

Your anger dissipated. “Daryl, wait. Where are you going?”

“M’leavin’ now or I’ma say things I’ll regret later.”

You called his name again but the only reply was the slam of the heavy metal door. 

Your search for him didn’t last long. You knew better than anyone that there was no finding Daryl when he didn’t want to be found. In his absence, you did the only thing you could do: sulk. 

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Carol queried, adjusting the basket of laundry on her hip after she stopped by the picnic table you had been perched at for the last 3 hours. Your only response was a heavy sigh. “Staring at the woods won’t make him come back any faster.” Your head shot up to reveal her knowing smile. Aside from you, Carol was the only other person to even relatively understand the younger Dixon. “What’d you argue about?” The silver-haired woman deposited the laundry on the table and took a seat across from you. 

“He doesn’t want me to go on runs anymore.” A quiet reply while you toyed with some twine you had been using to hang up things around your space inside. 

“And that bothers you?”

“Of course it does!” You snapped before quickly muttering an apology, though Carol didn’t seem affected. “It feels like he doesn’t trust me.”

“You know that’s bullshit.” Your mouth dropped open in disbelief. To your recollection, you had never before heard the woman utter even a syllable of a curse. She, of course, only offered a cheeky grin. “What? You think I can hang around you two and not pick up something?”

“Touché.” You nodded. 

“Listen, Y/N,” she started and took your hand, “Daryl cares about you, more than he lets on.” She wouldn’t mention all the times he had come to her with questions. How he would mumble and blush when trying to figure something out to make you happy. How he would actively look for at least one thing to bring back for you from a run. “I think you should try to see this from his perspective.” Just like she had told him to see it from yours. “I think then you may be able to compromise, yeah?”

You nodded with a small smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll think it over. Thanks, Carol.”

“Good.” The woman stood and grabbed up the basket. “Besides, you’re both insufferable when you’re fighting.” You reached out to give her a playful shove as she walked by and then patted the hand she laid briefly on your shoulder. 

She was right. You didn’t want to keep fighting with Daryl. It made you both (and apparently everyone else) miserable. You’d have to come up with something in the middle. 

The sky had faded to a pale lavender with the orange hue of the setting sun peeking over the trees. It was getting late and Daryl hadn’t returned. Your fingertips were sore from drumming on the table. Just as you stood with the intent to grab a weapon and go after him, a silhouette emerged from the treeline. There was a distinct outline of a crossbow on their back. The relief was immense and had you sinking back down onto the bench with your hand clutching the front of your shirt. 

Your eyes stayed trained on him as he made his way past the walkers outside and entered the gate that was promptly closed behind him. From a distance, he appeared fine albeit a little dirty. He walked slowly with his head down, but he had been out all day, so you hoped that was nothing more than fatigue. He made it a little closer than you thought he would before he raised his head and his gaze went straight to you. 

“Hey.” You offered, standing slowly. He gave you a nod and you thought he may walk on by, but he stopped just shy of the table. “You okay?” Another nod, his eyes seemingly studying your boots. “Look, Daryl—”

“I was wrong.” It came out so quickly that you had to think about it for a moment before you made sense of what he said. “Earlier. Was wrong. Ain’t got no right to tell ya what to do.” 

This time, it was you who nodded. “I know why though.” He looked up, blue eyes peering from behind his hair. 

“Ya do?” 

“Yeah. You want to keep me safe. You care about me.” You smiled, small but genuine. A strange look crossed his face but was gone a moment later. Was that disappointment? 

“Right.” He had started to chew on his thumbnail. 

Licking your lips nervously, you continued. “I’ll do no more than two runs a week. And only when you’re going too.” You were absolutely certain you caught a ghost of a smile. 

“Fair ‘nough.” He was shifting from foot to foot now, thumb still pressed against his lips. You had been so focused on the problem at hand that you hadn’t noticed the anxiety radiating from him in waves. Something was off. This had been too easy. 

“Daryl, are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Mhm, just—just tired.” His eyes said as much. You placed your hand on his bicep and ushered him along toward the door. 

“Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving!” Had your focus not been ahead, you would have seen the way he only smiled once he looked down at you. 

“Got some formula for Lil Asskicker.” Daryl rounded the end of the aisle you were knelt in, displaying the four cans in his pack before closing it up and placing it on his shoulder. 

“That’ll last her about 3 days.” You quirked, causing Daryl to snort behind you. “She’s growing like a little weed.” There wasn’t much left in the way of over the counter medications but you had scored some infants Tylenol and gas relief drops, as well as medication for the adults. “The food was pretty picked through. I got a couple of cans of fruit, though!” You placed three more bottles of tylenol in your bag and stood, your knees protesting the movement. 

“Y’ready then?” Daryl turned to head to the front of the old store. Glenn and Maggie were set to meet the two of you in the parking lot. 

“All set!” You confirmed, adjusting the backpack straps on your shoulders. You jogged to catch up with the archer, bumping into his side while pulling your knife from its sheath. Daryl smirked and ruffled your hair before gently shoving you away. “Pretty good haul, I think. Maybe we could stop by that gas—”

“Sshh.” The bowman had gone rigid, his hand just in front of your mouth. “Ya hear that?” It was faint at first but the closer the two of you moved towards the front of the store, the louder the thumping and moaning became.

“That sounds like an awful lot of walkers, Daryl.” You rounded the broken down checkout lanes to bring the doors into view and felt your stomach drop. The light that should have been filtering through the dusty glass doors was completely snuffed out by the multitude of bodies shuffling past. A glance at the archer found him tense and mirroring your expression. “Glenn and Maggie—” You whispered urgently. 

“They’ll wait ‘em out. Ain’t their first rodeo.” He had lowered his crossbow to his side. “Ours neither. Get comfy, girl. Might be here a bit.” He hopped up to sit on one of the conveyors while you walked through one of the other lanes to look at some of the old magazines. From the corner of your eye, you saw a small piece of bright orange peeking out from under the checkout shelf. 

“Oh my god!” You shrieked in an enthused whisper. 

“What?” Daryl was on his feet, crossbow leveled with his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You were already on your knees to retrieve the object of your excitement. “Reese’s cups!” You sprang up to your feet, waving the small package around triumphantly. 

The archer let the crossbow fall to his side, his face hidden behind his palm. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Big word, Dixon. I’m proud.” You bumped him deliberately with your hip as you walked by, hopping up where he had just been perched. The man leaned his weapon against the shelf where the cash register was positioned and sat beside you. You didn’t ask if he wanted the second treat, just handing it over habitually. You always shared with him. He accepted it with a smirk you didn’t see since you were already taking the first bite of the stale candy. “Buttery baby Jesus.” You moaned, eyes rolling back. 

Daryl barked a laugh, almost dropping the Reese’s. “M’not sure I wanna know why baby Jesus is buttery.” He was shaking his head when he caught your bewildered expression. “What?” He questioned around the first bite. 

“They told me it couldn’t happen. That it was impossible.” You whispered, eyes wide. The look on his face said he was waiting for you to continue. “You… you laughed.”

His expression deadpanned. “Shtop.” He mumbled around the chocolate and peanut butter. 

“I’m serious, Dixon. We were all wondering when we would stumble across the reanimated remains of your sense of humor.”

He swallowed and bumped you with his shoulder. “I hate ya.” 

“I love you too.” Your lips pressed against his cheek and pulled away just as quickly. The man went rigid, eyes straight forward. You didn’t seem to notice, wandering around the front. 

His blue eyes began to follow your movements, the tight feeling in his chest overpowering the butterflies fluttering madly in his stomach. His face was burning all the way to the tips of his ears. No longer hungry, he delicately wrapped the remaining Reese’s cup in its wrapper and put it in his bag to give to you later. 

You had knelt down to look through a basket labeled ‘return to stock.’ “Score! Batteries!” You exclaimed, mostly to yourself, and quickly shoved the different sizes into your pack. Behind you, the archer cleared his throat. 

“Think they’re gone.” He was motioning toward the door when you turned to acknowledge him.

You twisted to the other side to find nothing but dull light creeping through the glass. “Nice! You ready?”

“Uh—yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”

You both shouldered your packs and grabbed your weapons, moving almost silently through the door. Glenn and Maggie had undoubtedly hunkered down as well, so it was anyone’s guess who would arrive first at the meeting spot. Daryl followed behind you, walking backwards to ensure the area you couldn’t see stayed clear. 

“I think we’re good. It’s this way. Maybe Glenn and—” You rounded the corner, voice cut off into surprised shriek as two walkers tumbled into you. The back of your head met the concrete with a sickening crack and black spots danced across your vision. There was a loud bang to your left that you couldn’t place. Your body moved almost on autopilot, fumbling for the weapon you had dropped while you held one walker back with your forearm and kicked back the other with your free leg. You could hear Daryl screaming your name above the blood rushing in your ears. “D-Daryl!” You managed around the bile creeping up your throat. What seemed like several minutes later, the weight above you vanished and your gun was thrust into your hands. 

“C’mon, girl! Up we go!” 

Daryl’s hands were on you, pulling you up haphazardly by your arm. His voice sounded muffled but strained, like he was shouting under water. The world tilted and spun, and you felt an arm tighten around your back that you hadn’t realized was even there. You blinked hard, willing your surroundings to come into focus, but Daryl’s jarring movements were aggravating the already present nausea. Before you could warn him, you listed to your right and retched, the bile burning the back of your throat. 

“Shit!” 

His voice was a little clearer now, but you must have thrown him off balance. You tumbled down, only barely catching yourself on your palms before you would have smashed face first into the puddle of sick on the asphalt. Daryl crashed into your back a second later but quickly averted his weight so he landed beside you. A string of curses left his mouth as he pushed himself up, your eyes trying to follow him but stopping short on the smear of crimson where he had fallen. 

“Daryl, are—are you bleeding?” Am I bleeding? You were being hauled to your feet again, the motion almost too much. Your vision grayed at the edges and you felt a strange tingling in your limbs. Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out. 

“Over here! Hurry!”

Glenn. You had never been so relieved to hear his voice. It was short lived as you felt yourself fading. Your body was shifted again and now the world was upside down, a strong grip pressing into your ribs and the side of your knees. The last thing you saw was the herd of walkers closing in before it all went dark. 

You awoke with a start, sitting up halfway before the pounding in your head made its presence known and you fell back with a grunt. 

“Easy.”

Daryl. Thank god. You risked opening your eyes, finding him to be looking down at you from straight above. Scenery was flying by just beside his head. You were in the car, your head pillowed on Daryl’s lap. “Glenn? Maggie?” You asked quietly. You didn’t think you were physically capable of talking any louder. 

“We’re here, Y/N.” Maggie’s voice came from the front seat. You felt her gentle touch in your arm and you immediately relaxed. You had all made it. 

“What happened?” You asked, trying to keep your eyes focused on the archer when they wanted nothing more than to close and let you be dragged back into oblivion. 

“Other half’a the herd came down on us. Ya cracked your melon when two’a ‘em took ya down.” 

Worry and fatigue laced his voice but as you studied him, you could see the clear indicators of pain. Daryl always hid it well but you knew him better than anyone. 

“You hurt?”

He shifted in the seat slightly and winced. “Ya must’a squeezed the trigger when ya went down. Shot me.” 

Your eyes blew wide and you were instantly moving, trying to sit up. Your body seemed to disagree with that plan of action. “Where are you hit? How bad is it? Damn it!” 

“Whoa! Hold up!” He pulled you back down, calloused finger smoothing the hair away from your face. “M’alright. Got the back’a my leg. Hershel’ll take care’a it.” You stared at him with wide, exhausted eyes. Were you actually lying on his wounded leg? 

“I shot you?” You could feel the tears collecting on your lashes, guilt eating away at your insides, colliding with the nausea so hard that it made your vision swim. “I’m so sorry.” Your fingertips found his jaw, barely brushing the prickly hair there before your arm became too heavy to hold up. 

“Ya didn’t do it on purpose, Y/N.” 

“I would…never…” You suddenly felt exhaustion pulling you under, Daryl’s pleas for you to stay awake fading into white noise as blackness swallowed you up once again. 

It had been three days since the run. Two had seen you lying in bed with Hershel doing periodic checks to ensure that the concussion wasn’t something more serious. Daryl had been there too. He would only leave when threatened by Carol, forced to go rest himself. He never stayed gone long.  Rick had finally dragged an extra mattress in and placed it in the corner. The archer finally allowed himself to fall asleep and that’s how you found him when you had awoken near the end of day two. Hershel arrived to check your vitals and found you propped up on your elbows, watching Daryl sleep. 

“How long has he been there?” You asked quietly. The old man smiled and released your wrist, satisfied with your pulse. 

“It’d be easier to tell you when he wasn’t in here.” He mused while shaking two pills from a bottle. The sound didn’t disturb the bowman in the slightest, a testament to his exhaustion. “Take these.”

You trusted the old veterinarian and took the offered medication, just assuming it was for pain. Your eyes never left Daryl. “His leg— did it—will he—”

Hershel patted your own leg and waited for you to finally look at him. He shone a small light in your eyes and smiled again. “He’ll be fine. And so will you. You both just need to rest.”

You nodded and laid your head back on the pillow, turning on your side so you could keep Daryl in your sights. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep. You didn’t hear Hershel leave. 

Now, you were perched in the tower. It was the only thing Rick would allow you to do after Hershel released you. The sun had long ago set and the prison was dark and silent, save for the moans of the walkers shuffling around outside the fences. You had learned to tune them out when you were out there, allowing yourself to enjoy the fresh air and the quiet peace the night offered. 

“Hey.”

You jerked around with a start, vision swimming only slightly as Daryl came into focus just beside the door leading to the ladder. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and chewed on the opposite thumbnail. 

“Hi.” You smiled at him but it faded as he limped toward where you sat, hissing as he took a seat next to you. “Still hurts?” 

“I’ll live.” He was looking out over the field and into the trees for a moment before turning to you. You avoided his gaze, and you knew he knew. “Ya alright?” You looked back at him and he tapped his finger against his forehead. 

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I’m feeling much better.” A smile graced your lips once again, not quite reaching your eyes. Daryl nodded, his thumb to his mouth again. “You were right, you know.” His brow creased in confusion but you looked away, finding the treeline before continuing. “I shouldn’t be going out there anymore.”

The archer shook his head and moved his hand back to his lap. “Nah, Y/N. What happened was—”

“My fault.” You nodded resolutely, ignoring the twinge of discomfort it caused. “I wasn’t careful. I was distracted. I shot you.”

“That was a accident.”

“That doesn’t matter, Daryl!” Your voice escalated. The tears stinging your eyes threatened to fall. The walkers beyond the fence zeroed in on the noise and began to gather. The bowman glanced over, assessing the situation. When the fence held the extra weight, he looked back to you, your cheeks now wet before you angrily wiped at them with the back of your hand. “I’m a liability out there. You need someone better to—”

“Hey,” he cut you off, with a hand on your knee, “ya got my back out there. You do.” Daryl ducked down his head, searching for your gaze. “Ya got yer shit together. Y’know what yer doin’ out there. There ain’t no one I trust more. Ya hear me?”

Confusion twisted your expression. You turned to face him, careful that your legs didn’t bump his. “Then why?” You asked with a gentle shake of your head. “Why did you fight me so hard about going out?” You watched several emotions skitter across the archer’s face, but he settled on one: guilt. He scowled deeply, bottom lip caught between his teeth with his gaze anywhere but on you. “Daryl?”

“I, uh—” You saw a spot of blood on his lip before his tongue quickly erased it. “I just—need to know you’re safe.”

He wasn’t making much sense. “If you know I can take care of myself, why are you worried?” 

His face began to redden, the color spreading down his neck and up to the tips of his ears. “Damnit, y’know I ain’t no good with words, kid!”

“Obviously. Because I’m not a kid.” You chuckled, your fingertips brushing his cheek before you used your palm to coax his head to turn. He kept his eyes stubbornly downcast, his hand immediately lifting his thumb towards his mouth. You intercepted and gently pushed his hand to his lap, keeping your own over it. “Just say what you mean.” 

Daryl swallowed hard, his jaw clenching while he slumped in the chair. You knew where this was headed. He was trying to process something deep; something important. When faced head on with emotions, there was only one thing Daryl could count on: his anger. When his fingers folded into a fist below your hand, you didn’t let him pull away. 

“We don’t need to talk about this. Let’s just table it for later, alright?” You smiled gently and moved to turn yourself forward, away from him. 

This time, it was him that stopped you from pulling away. “Nah.” When you turned your face back to reassure him things were okay, he met you there. His lips pressed against yours firmly, almost aggressively. This definitely wasn’t something he had planned. Soon enough, the pressure minimized and you were able to react. Your brain was currently short-circuiting but you managed to move your mouth against his, finding a rhythm in the hungry dance. 

Of all the things Daryl could “say” to you, this was definitely not on your bingo card for the year. His hands gently held the sides of your neck, calloused fingers sliding up your skin to tangle in your hair. Your own hands found purchase in the front of his vest, using it to keep him close to you; afraid that he would change his mind now that you had accepted his confession. And that’s what this was. 

A confession. 

Daryl was a man of action, not words. He had been for as long as you had been a part of his life. So this? You could decipher this pretty easily. He cared about you more than a friend. He was willing to be vulnerable with you. He trusted you. He worried about you. He wanted you close by and safe. He loved you. Was he in love with you? That was the only question left. You definitely didn’t mind waiting for the answer as long as he could keep kissing you like this. 

You tried to pull back to breathe, but he held fast, tongue licking into your mouth the moment it opened to protest. Drawing a deep breath through your nose, you couldn’t help but let out a content sigh and allow yourself to taste him as well. Tobacco smoke and a hint of spice that you found delicable, craving more as you began to take charge. Releasing his vest, you opened your palms and pressed him against the back of the chair. Your lips never left his, even as the angle changed for you to be standing over him. He had released your hair and settled his palms on your hips as you lowered to straddle his lap. 

You had begun to wonder just how far this would go when your full weight settled onto him, and he yelped (in a very manly way, if anyone asked) against your mouth. You pulled back, tripping over his boot and crashing toward the floor. Daryl tried to stop your descent, managing to catch your bicep which led to your hand gripping the front of his vest while your leg was still trapped behind his. You successfully pulled him off the chair, the pair of you meeting the concrete one right after the other. 

You laid there for a moment, stunned and assessing the situation. When your eyes met Daryl’s wide blue gaze, you couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up from somewhere deep inside. The entire prison could probably hear you but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Especially when you heard the brief chuckle from beside you. 

“Great first kiss, Dixon.” You let your head gingerly fall back, the stitched wound beneath your hair still tender. “Top notch.”

“Shut up.” There was no heat behind the words. In fact, he sounded rather relaxed. “First, huh?” 

You grinned at the stars, wondering how red his face would be if you chose to look at him at that moment. “Of many.” 

He hummed in reply. You started to rethink your words, worried that you were putting too much pressure on him, but then you felt his finger brush over the back of your hand. He didn’t do more than just press his hand against yours but allowed you to wrap your index finger around his. For several moments, the two of you laid there, silent but comfortable in it. 

“I’m still on watch.” You finally said, already missing his touch when he moved his hand away. “I guess I should be, you know, watching.”

“Mhmm.” He replied. You turned your head to watch him struggle to his feet, hurrying to get up yourself to steady him. Once he found his balance, you let go and took a deep breath. You didn’t want this moment to end. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“‘Course.” He gave you a look that meant you should have known the answer already. 

“Night, Daryl.” You plopped back down onto your chair and looked out through your binoculars while you waited to hear the door close. When it didn’t, you turned to find him still standing a few feet away. 

“You, uh—if ya want some company, I could—y’know, stay.” He was blushing again, rubbing the back of his neck like he had when he’d first arrived earlier. You’d never tell him how adorable he looked. He’d likely murder you in your sleep. So, you smiled and nodded before patting the other chair. 

“Yeah, I’d like it if you stayed.” As he limped back over, you felt a warmth rise and settle in your chest, one you hadn’t felt since before the world ended. Actually, this was new. This was different. This was the beginning of something. Something beautiful born out of darkness and death. Something you’d fight like hell to hold onto.

And you’d never have to fight alone.

[cam3lliaw]

Catching the eye of a prince

Chapter 2

-crownprince!gojo x maid!reader

contents/ warnings: (some are mentioned in the prologue), might be ooc,

word count: 1.9k words

series masterlist

chapter one here

notes: sorry for the long wait (again), hope you like this one :)

The prince waited until the clock struck eleven. He thought that this should be late enough and to say that he was getting impatient at that point would be an understatement.

He wasn’t dressed fancy by any means, in just a white saggy shirt and black pants. As much as he enjoys dressing up and showing others his wealth, the prince always preferred dressing casual if he didn’t have a busy day with meetings or other royal responsibilities to attend. Before he left his chambers, Satoru still decided to wear a cloak in case any person that was currently in the royal library would recognize him and make a huge deal out of his presence there. After all, even if he didn’t try to stand out, his white hair and striking blue eyes could be easily recognized by anyone. Also, the palace was too guarded for someone to become concerned if they randomly saw a person dressed in a cloak around so that fact alone wouldn’t be a problem in his way.

The library was quiet but not quite empty yet. The prince successfully made it in without being recognized by any of the scholars of the court that were still reading in silence. He roamed the many rows of books a few times, yet he didn’t catch a glimpse of anyone, he didn’t rush at all and was also willing to wait for a while yet…this seemed too easy.

A lot of thoughts were rushing into Satoru’s mind as the riddle was in the middle of them. The only word that suggested to a place in that riddle was “meadow”. The library is quite big, but there are not a lot of small rooms in it that might resemble a meadow. The area with children books is too obvious and the prince figured that you would have no reason to spend your time there.

But…there is a place that is well hidden much like the meadow in the novel. The library’s storeroom would fit the criteria. That room is incredibly small, more like a closet rather than a room and it can be found in the corner of the right far end of the library. Not many people know about it since the librarians mainly use it to store old books that are too worn down to be handled or that have newer version that have improved content in them. When they were kids, Satoru, Suguru and Shoko were spending a lot of time there since no one would’ve thought to look for them there.

The prince slowly approached the storeroom and the door was cracked open, a bit of light was coming from the inside.

“That’s it.” The prince thought.

He stepped inside carefully, in order not to scare you. And there you were, facing the rows of books, seemingly searching for one as a lamp was sitting on a tall row of books that were on the floor right next to you. The prince turned around to close the door so the two of you can talk without the risk of getting heard and bothered by anyone else but as he was about to touch the door he knocked over a small tower of books that was right by the entrance and the sound got your attention.

You didn’t see his face but judging by how tall he was, and the fact that he was wearing a cloak, you assumed he must be a knight patrolling the library since it was already this late at night.

“I was just dusting the shelves. I’m sorry to be out here so late.” You tried to excuse yourself, bowing your head down, even though all the knights knew that the maids were not working from 11 pm to 4 am. But it felt a bit weird. Knights were not usually patrolling in this part of the library. They were usually more busy around the royal chambers especially at nighttime.

Gojo turned around and wanted to talk, but as soon as he faced you, your head was up again and you finally took a look at him. Your jaw dropped in shock as you noticed the white of his hair, mostly hidden by the cloak, and his striking blue eyes.

“Your royal high-“ you tried to talk and bow, almost falling down as he rushed to you and covered your mouth with his hand. He hushed you as you looked up at him confused.

“Don’t call me that or we’re going to get unwanted attention. And keep your voice down. Okay? You can do that, right?” The prince asked whispering as he looked straight into your eyes.

After hesitating for a moment, you nodded and he took his hand off smiling.

“How…should I call you then?” you asked as you looked down fidgeting with the sleeve of your uniform.

“Uh…I don’t know, but if you called me like that it would definitely grab someone’s attention so…for now my name should do.”

“I can’t possibly do that.”

“Why not? Don’t tell me you don’t know it.” The prince tried to joke.

“Of course I know it. I just can’t disrespect you like that, your royal-“ before you got to continue, Satoru hushed you again and you stopped talking looking away embarrassed.

“Would you do it if I ordered you to?” he tried to propose.

“Do what?”

“Call me by my name.” the prince declared and as soon as you sighed he knew he won. After a moment of silence you opened your mouth.

“As you wish…Satoru.”

“That wasn’t that hard now, was it?” he smiled “And since we’re introducing ourselves, you’re [name]. Am I right?”

“Yes…that’s right.”

Well, that’s a surprise for sure. Everyone knows that the prince can’t bother to even remember the names of his personal maids and butlers, but for him to know your name? You were just a simple maid and besides…you don’t think you ever exchanged a single word with him up until tonight, right? Then how did he know-

Oh.

From Suguru.

That’s how. That is literally the only way in which his royal highness would’ve known of your existence, at least that’s clearly the first thing that comes to mind, considering the close friendship the lord has with the prince. But Suguru promised he would never get you into trouble…then what is this situation in the first place. Before you go the chance to think more about it, you were interrupted.

“So…what are you really doing here?” the prince inquired.

“I…I was- uh…”

 You didn’t know what to do. Should you lie? Should you tell the truth? It wasn’t like you were doing something illegal… but it’s still something that a maid shouldn’t be doing. But you have to tell the truth in the end right? After all, lying to the royal family can sometimes be considered treason and a light punishment is better than a harsher one.

“I was…bringing a book back.” you admitted.

“Aren’t books supposed to be given back to one of the librarians? And also, this is a storeroom for old books that are out of use so this is clearly not the place where it should go.” He looked down at you, albeit a bit suspicious, when you make a library card these things are being explained to you. And Suguru and Shoko were heavily suggesting that you were smart, so you should know that.

“It is the right place…because I took the book from here in the first place.” You looked down a bit ashamed.

“But books from here cannot be borrowed. It says that in the library rules.”

“I know that. I’m really sorry about this. I promise it won’t happen again-” you continued to look down, hoping that you wouldn’t face a tough punishment.

“Why?” the prince asked.

“…what?”

“You knew that this isn’t allowed. Yet you did it anyway.” He smiled “And I’m sure you knew that things that aren’t allowed will be punished. That part is common sense. So riddle me this: you, a person who apparently doesn’t like to be in the center of attention, would do this, a thing that would clearly make heads turn around if the truth came to light, which it did right now.”

“I-I just-” you sighed. “I just wanted to read them. That’s all. Every book that I’ve borrowed from here was back in its place in a few days at most. I did not do this to steal or anything like that.”

“Alright, you like to read, but why from here? These aren’t even that good to read anymore. You would be better off reading from the main library.”

“I can’t read from there.”

“If it’s because you don’t have one of those library cards you could easily make one.” the prince added.

“You don’t understand, Satoru. Even if I wanted to make one I can’t.”

 You took a deep breath trying to calm down and not say anything that will show how you actually feel about this situation. Of course he didn’t catch on it earlier. He can do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. He doesn’t have to hide in order to do the things he wishes to do.

“Maids aren’t allowed to borrow books from the library. We work daily, almost all day, so even if we were allowed to, we wouldn’t have time to read them. I only read at night so I don’t get in trouble for slacking off.” After you told him that you looked back up at him and he seemed a bit...sad.

“Oh, I didn’t know that.” he stopped talking for a second but an idea seemed to come to him “that’s why you take them from here…is it not? The books from here aren’t being verified every day… so you could take from here without anyone noticing unlike the books from the main library.”

“That’s right…but it doesn’t matter anymore…but what…will happen now? Will I be suspended? Fired?” You knew that taking books like that would have consequences but you couldn’t say exactly how big they would be, considering you didn’t know anyone to have done this before, if anyone ever did.

“No, You won’t.”

“But I shouldn’t have done that. It’s against the rules. You said it as well just now.”

“I know what I said... But I don’t think you did a bad thing, [name]. You just wanted to do something you liked. And it’s not like you were making problems for others by doing this. I won’t punish you for doing something like that…however you won’t be doing this anymore. You can’t risk anyone else catching you here. Not everyone will let this go as I did.”

You nodded, deciding this outcome is better than you could’ve expected. Yes, it’s sad that you won't read anymore, but at least you didn’t have to go through a hard time because of all the reading you did so far. Bowing, you got the lamp from the place it sat on and you were ready to leave when Gojo grabbed your wrist.

“I wasn’t done talking, [name].”

“Oh, I didn’t realise- I apologise.” Stopping in your tracks you put the lamp nearby again and waited for him to continue.

“I said that you shouldn’t be doing this anymore, but I got a deal for you instead.”

“A deal? Satoru, I don’t have anything to give you in exchange. In case it slipped your mind, I’m a maid, as in: maid working for you, in your palace.”

“We can discuss the details later. Can’t you just hear me out before you jump to refuse me? Are you always this pessimistic?” he smiled.

“I’m not.” You rushed to admit but realized you fell right into his trap.

Gojo started laughing as quietly as he could and you couldn’t help but chuckle as well.

“What is the deal then?”

“Glad you asked. Follow me.” He extended his hand and waited for you to take it.

taglist: @kalopsia-flaneur @fortunatelyfurrygiver @kitkat331

end notes: thank you for reading :)

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

Boston Bears: Off-Limits - Rugby Player!Chris x Reader (Part 6)

Summary: You go out on your first girls night since moving to Boston, but instead of a fun night out, you end up with the cast of Mean Girls

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: Fluff! Angst! Talk of Nepotism! Slut-Shaming! Alcohol Consumption!

Rugby Explained

Dividers by Me!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Chapter 6

You sighed as you assessed your outfit in the mirror. This was the first time you were going out drinking in a very long time. Even back in LA, you didn’t go out often even though you loved dancing, your friend Tommi preferred chatty drinks so you often went out for a meal instead. So it had been a little while since you had gotten dressed up like you were now and it wasn’t filling you with the confidence it normally did.

You’d picked a sparkly black mini-dress which looked like the night sky. The last time you wore it you felt like a boss, like someone out of a fantasy novel that was a queen or high lady and commanded an entire court. Now it just felt off, you couldn’t stop fiddling with the hem and adjusting it. It felt like it was wearing you instead of you wearing it.

You nibbled your lip trying to determine whether you should change, not that you knew what you’d change into. You needed a second opinion, someone to reassure you that it was fine and not as bad as you thought it was.

You grabbed your phone, took a quick mirror selfie and sent it to Tommi, asking what she thought. You could have just face-timed her but you didn’t want her to do her empath superpower and pick up on how uncomfortable you felt causing a mini therapy session that you didn’t want right now.

Tommi: Looking hot! You’ll be pulling all the guys tonight!

You rolled your eyes knowing she meant you could pull someone other than Chris. You had told her about your agreement and how Chris definitely wasn’t like Bryce but she still wasn’t convinced.

Y/N: I’m not looking to pull anyone tonight, just a girl's night with some of the office staff

Tommi: well have fun anyway and stay safe, share your location and text me when you’re heading home

Y/N: will do, love ya wish you were here

Tommi: love you too, wish you were here

You smiled softly to yourself as you put your phone away and looked back in the mirror. You still didn’t feel like a boss bitch, but you felt better and more confident. You could fake it until you make it until then, plus you were already running a little late.

You grabbed your bag and did last looks in the mirror before making your way out of your apartment to go meet the rest of the girls. The bar you were meeting at wasn’t that far from your apartment, only about a twenty to thirty-minute walk, but the girls were already inside when you got there.

“Hey sorry I’m a little late” you smiled as you sat down at the bar table with them.

Sam gave you a smile that you could tell was insincere “No worries” she said as her eyes scanned your outfit “You look… nice”

You forced your own smile to hide your reaction from the backhanded compliment, noticing how the other girls were also assessing your outfit which was more out there than theirs “thought I’d bring some LA glamour to the east coast” you smirked as you flagged down a bartender to order a drink “love the east coast but I think it could use it”

Sam’s smile became more forced and tight as she gave you a quick nod “Right”

You flashed her a winning smile before turning your attention to the other girls, starting a direct conversation with them instead of Sam. She did an unimpressed huff which you caught but ignored, you knew the game she was trying to play and you could play it too.

An hour into the ‘girls' night’ you decided you needed a break from them. The conversation had become less awkward but there was still the air of animosity. Tommi came to your rescue though when you texted her asking her to call you.

“Oh I better take this, I’ll be right back,” you said sliding off your seat.

You didn’t wait for them to reply and walked straight to the door to step outside.

“Hey is everything okay?” Tommi asked as soon as the line connected.

You let out a long sigh “Yeah, just needed an excuse to get a break for a bit, I thought I’d left all the LA bitches in LA” you grumbled.

Tommi snorted “There’s bitches everywhere” she chuckled “What’s so bad about them?”

“Urgh well two of them are fine, Sophia and I’ve forgotten her name, but Sam is the queen bee and the problem” you explained.

“Oh, the peaked in high school kinda person?”

“Yup, instantly judged me as soon as I walked in, I don’t even know why she invited me out” you huffed.

“Maybe she just didn’t expect the medic to also be a sexy bombshell, those girls hate competition” Tommi suggested.

You laughed and shook your head “I wouldn’t say bombshell but maybe… I think I might just cut my losses”

“No don’t give in, you said the other two are alright so stick with them and you never know they might feel the same as you” Tommi told you “Remember when we found out we both hated the same person?”

You recalled that time in college and laughed, the two of you had been studying in the library when the popular know it all girl had swanned past making you roll your eyes before you could check your expression. Tommi had caught it but instead of calling you out on it she let out a massive sigh of relief and told you she found that girl just as annoying as you did. The two of you became inseparable after that.

“That definitely brought us even closer”

“Exactly so just stick it out for another hour or two and you might make a new friend, just don’t go replacing me,” Tommi said and you could practically see her pointing her finger at you.

“That’s impossible no one can replace you” you smiled.

“Exactly now go have some fun, you deserve it,” Tommi told you.

“Will do, love ya” you chuckled.

“Love ya!” Tommi shouted down the line before the call disconnected.

You slid your phone back into your purse before taking a deep breath of the cool night air. You could do this. You stepped back inside the bar looked over towards the table and decided you needed just a few more minutes so went to the bathroom. It didn’t seem like they cared, they didn’t seem to notice you hadn’t come back yet.

Inside the toilets, you only just shut the door to a cubicle when you heard the bathroom door open and three people walk in “Urgh I wish I hadn’t invited her, do you think we could sneak out before she comes back?” you heard Sam say.

“Oh um, I dunno she’s probably stood right by the entrance” Sophia muttered.

You held back your snort, you were much closer than they realised.

“Well, she’s clearly a slut” Sam scoffed “I mean did you see what she was wearing? She may as well have written fuck me on her forehead”

“I thought it was nice, it reminded me of-” the other girl whose name you couldn’t remember said before Sam interrupted.

“No it’s slutty” Sam fired “I bet she isn’t even a trained a medic and is just in the job because her dad is the coach, typically nepo baby”

Your fists clenched, it wasn’t anything you hadn’t heard before. While it was getting better it was pretty unusual to be a female medic in the sports industry. But you worked damn hard to get your qualifications you did everything you could to make sure you were where you were because of your merits and not because your dad was a coach.

“Maybe” Sophia sighed “The guys like her though”

“Of course they do, she’s a female medic with the prime access to touch them up” Sam pointed out “I bet that’s why she decided to be a medic, she’s a slut who wants easy access to hot rugby players, I mean have you seen her with them, especially Johnny and Chris!”

That made your stomach drop. You were used to the other comments but the slut shaming and the insinuations were too much. They clearly didn’t know what was going on with you and Chris if they thought you were after Johnny too but did it really matter? It brought back the memories of what you hear in the LA changing rooms which made you feel sick.

Thankfully the girls didn’t stay in the bathroom much longer and you were able to step out of the cubical. You looked at yourself in the mirror and tried to see what Tommi saw but all you could see was what Sam saw. You bit your lower lip to stop yourself from crying, taking a deep and shaky breath.

You grabbed your phone and sent a text to Tommi ‘they’re all bitches and I’m going home, I’ll call when I’m home”

Chris let out a big yawn as he leant back in his chair and stretched his arms above his head “I think I’m gonna go into a food coma” he groaned, his belly completely full of food, some of which wasn’t diet-compliant but he was celebrating so it was fine.

Chris was out with Johnny, Jensen, Curtis as well as a few other teammates to celebrate Ari’s birthday. Since they had a match tomorrow they couldn’t go out drinking so had settled for a meal out. But they might have overindulged on food instead of booze.

“I don’t think I could eat another bite” Johnny complained as he put another spoonful of dessert in his mouth.

Chris snorted and shook his head at the winger. Things were good between them again now, Johnny had proved to Chris that he wasn’t gonna say a word and the team had been on a winning streak the last few rounds so Johnny was definitely right.

“I think I ate too much” Jake admitted as he wiped his brow “I might struggle tomorrow”

The rest of the guys all hummed in agreement, Curtis had a deeper frown on his face than he normally did.

“I dread to think how much this bill is gonna be” Ari sighed as he ran his hand through his long brown locks.

“We’re professional sportsmen, you can afford it” Johnny pointed out.

Ari shot him a look “Yeah rugby player, we’re not in the NFL or NBA” he argued “and some of us have other things they have to pay for besides fancy clothes and girl’s drinks”

Chris arched a brow at the nerve Johnny had seemingly unknowingly pressed, he wondered what it was that Ari had to pay for that meant he was more frugal than others.

“We’ll all chip in and cover it” Chris stated “It’s your birthday Ari, you don’t have to pay for anything”

Ari shook his head “No it’s fine I can pay” he stated.

“No it’s you’re birthday so we are gonna treat you aren’t we?” Chris argued sending a pointed look around at the rest of the guys who all murmured in agreement.

Ari still tried to protest but Chris made sure to take the bill from him when it arrived and ensured that everyone paid their fair share. Once the bill was paid the team made their way out to the fresh air.

“Thanks for that man” Ari said to Chris quietly as they walked out.

“No worries, it's not fair to pay on your birthday” Chris smiled as he clapped Ari on the shoulder.

“Thanks, it’s not like I couldn’t afford it, I just try to be careful with my money that’s all,” Ari said.

“I get it, don’t worry man, it's good to be frugal instead of materialistic, especially when our careers could be over tomorrow” Chris shrugged.

Ari snorted with laughter and shook his head “Great pep talk for tomorrow cap”

Chris threw him a lopsided grin “It’s what I’m known for”

“So what’s the plan, are we hitting a bar?” Johnny called out.

“Storm we have a match tomorrow” Chris reminded him, all of them already had one alcoholic drink they couldn’t go out for another.

“I know but it’s not late, we could still hang out” Johnny points out gesturing over his shoulders to the bars on the other side of the road.

Chris sighed considering it, looking across the road at all the bars they could head to. His attention was then taken by a short black shimmery dress. Chris’ lips parted as he watched you step out of a bar your head low, arms wrapped around your body tightly. You looked stunning, Chris felt an electric current run through him as he looked at you, the same one that he felt last weekend at the BBQ when he couldn’t help but seek you out to just get a kiss. But there was also something wrong, he could tell that much from here.

“Hey isn’t that Y/N?” Jensen said pointing across the street to where Chris was already staring.

“Yeah, looks like she’s alone, I’m just gonna go make sure she’s okay,” Chris said barely taking his eyes off you, watching as you walked away from the bar alone “Text me what you decide and I’ll catch up”

Chris didn’t wait for their responses before he checked there were no cars coming before jogging across the road. You seemed to be in a hurry because you had already gotten a good distance away from the bar. Chris had to keep jogging to catch up, something that didn’t sit particularly well with his full stomach.

“Hey,” he called out when he was close enough.

You instantly spun around, your eyes wide in fear. Chris held his hands up in a defensive manner as you breathed out a deep breath, hand on your chest.

“Jesus fuck Chris you scared the living daylights out of me, I thought you were a stalker or something” you scolded slapping him on the arm.

“Well you are the one walking alone” Chris pointed out.

You rolled your eyes “I’m fine my place isn’t that far, thirty minutes tops” you said shaking your head.

“A lot can happen in thirty minutes, you alright? You seem off” he asked noting how you had wrapped your arms tight around your waist again like you were trying to hide.

“Just a shitty night out” you sighed.

“Oh well we’re out celebrating Ari’s birthday, we were about to head to a bar I think when I spotted you, if you fancy joining us?” Chris offered nodding his head back towards the guys.

You glanced around him before shaking your head quickly “No I don’t think that’ll be a good idea, at least not right now” you said making Chris’ brows pinch together as he tried to work out exactly what you meant.

“No problem, let me walk you home then” Chris said but you shook your head again.

“No, no I’m good, you head back with the others,” you told him, turning to walk away before he even had a chance to argue.

“Whoa, hold up I can’t let you walk home alone” Chris said grabbing your arm to stop you from walking away.

You pulled your arm out of his grip and kept walking forcing him to follow “Chris please not now, I just want to go home” you sighed, your voice squeaking on the last syllable.

Chris’ brows pinched in concern, something was definitely wrong and he wasn’t gonna let you walk home alone if you weren’t okay “Okay but I can’t let you walk alone, I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened, you already thought I was a creep”

You paused, let out a deep sigh and closed your eyes taking a couple of moments before nodding your head “Fine” you muttered quickly walking on.

Chris nodded and fell into step with you, standing on the roadside of the pavement. He sent a quick text to Jensen to say he was walking you home before heading home himself. He shoved his phone and hands in his jeans pockets and looked over at you as you both walked in the direction of your apartment.

Ten minutes had passed and you hadn’t said a word. You just kept your eyes on the floor in front of you, your arms wrapped around your waist. This was the quietest Chris had ever seen you, it wasn’t a side he liked because it wasn’t right, it wasn’t you. The biggest indication he had that something was wrong was the quiet sniffles like you were stopping yourself from crying.

“What was so shitty about your night then?” he asked guessing this sad mood had something to do with it.

“I don’t want to talk about it” you muttered quietly.

“Did something happen? Was someone a creep to you?” Chris questioned starting to get more concerned.

“No it wasn’t a creep it was- it was nothing” you sighed shaking your head.

Chris' brows furrowed “Who did you go out with?” he asked.

“Just some girls from the ticket office, but I won’t be doing it again” you explained with a small scoff.

Chris scrunched up his nose and shook his head “Oh yeah they’re not the nicest, it wasn’t Sam was it? She’s so annoying” he complained.

Your head snapped up to look at him, Chris had to stop himself from smirking victoriously. He’d hit the nail on the head. He might not know the exact reason but he had a better idea.

“You don’t like her?” you asked him.

“Gahd no, she’s like Regina George” Chris scoffed.

Your jaw dropped and Chris had to stop himself from laughing because it was a cute sight “Do you just reference mean girls?” you muttered in disbelief.

Chris gave you a lopsided smile “I’ve got sisters remember”

You chuckled weakly “Well she definitely was a mean girl tonight” You sighed.

“That’s a shame, it’s not nice being around someone who's being mean to strangers for no reason,” Chris said shaking his head.

“It wasn’t strangers” you muttered under your breath, Chris wasn’t sure if you meant for him to hear it but he did.

He froze, putting his hand on your arm to stop you “Wait, was she mean to you?” he asked, anger prickling under his skin.

You opened and shut your mouth a couple of times before shaking your head “It was nothing”

Chris wasn’t gonna let you brush this off any longer “It clearly wasn’t, c’mon you can tell me, we’re buddies right?”

“Look they were really judgy of me and how I was dressed and a bunch of other things” you sighed waving it off.

“How you were dressed? Fuck you look amazing, you caught my attention from across the road” Chris said shaking his head in confusion.

You gave him a weak smile before turning to continue walking towards your apartment “Thanks, I was a bit overdressed though” you admitted.

Chris shrugged “No you weren’t you look like you’re out for a night out, if they thought you were overdressed then they were underdressed” he pointed out.

You let out a small chuckle “Guess I can’t fault that logic” you said.

“It’s a bit shitty that they said it to you though” Chris sighed shaking his head.

“They didn’t, well, not really, I went to the bathroom and they didn’t know and followed me in a decided to chat shit” you explained.

“What else did they say?” Chris asked picking up on the fact there must have been more said.

You let out a long sigh but remain silent. Looking over Chris could see your lips were pursed as if you were trying to decide if you wanted to tell him or how to tell him.

“They said I was a nepo baby and that I was only a medic so I could get up close and personal with hot rugby players” you finally said.

“What the actual fuck!” Chris exclaimed loudly “That’s utter bullshit, you’re one of the best medics we’ve ever had”

You let out a small scoff “Thanks but look don’t worry about it just typical slut shaming”

“No, I am because it’s not on and it’s clearly upsetting you! Do they know about us? Is that the problem?” Chris asked.

You shook your head “No she just said we were close, same with Johnny” you sighed.

“That’s good at least,” Chris said earning another small scoff from you “Look don’t listen to anything she or those other girls say, they’re just jealous because you get to hang out with us guys and we don’t like them enough to hang out with them, what they’re saying is just their insecurities projected onto you” he continued softly.

“I dunno” you sighed shaking your head.

“Trust me, we’ve all been subjected to Sam throwing herself at us at Christmas and end-of-season parties, if anyone is trying to get up close and personal with us it's her” Chris explained trying to suppress the shudder that passed through his body when he recalled the last Christmas party when she tried to grind her hips against him despite his efforts to get away “we like you Y/N all of us, which is why we hang out with you so don’t listen to them, you’re a badass who doesn’t need to worry about their opinions”

You stopped and turned back around to face him, your eyes damp as you looked up at him “Thanks Chris… it’s nice to know you’re on my side”

Chris put a comforting hand on your shoulder “it's nothing” he said before looking up and realising you were outside your apartment building “Are you okay now? I can stick around if you want”

You gave him a brave smile and shook your head “No I'm good thanks, you should head back to the guys, I said I’d call Tommi when I got in to talk about everything anyway”

Chris nodded trying not to look too disappointed. He didn’t want to leave you just yet, not just because you still weren’t 100% yourself again but because he just felt this need to be with you.

“Sure, well I’ll see you tomorrow at the game” he nodded.

“Yeah see you tomorrow, thanks for walking me home by the way” You smiled softly.

“It was nothing…” he said trying to think of something to say to allow him to stay a little longer but he couldn’t “See you tomorrow” he repeated quickly, giving you a quick hug before turning on his heels and heading back the way he came.

He didn’t go far though, staying just close enough to watch and make sure you got inside the building and the lights went on in your apartment. He stayed another moment more before letting out a long sigh and making his way home.

Chris climbed out of his car and brushed down his tie before moving to grab his kitbag from his trunk. There weren’t many fans here yet since the team met at the stadium a whole 2 hours before kickoff, but there were always a few dedicated fans who turned up early. Chris gave them a wave as he walked from his car to the team entrance, even stopping to take a couple of photos with young fans.

Once inside the building, he walked down the corridor that would lead him to the team’s changing room. He nodded hello to any other members of staff he crossed, including the team photographer who was capturing the team’s arrival. The only people he wouldn’t say hello to would be Sam and her other mean girls, but he rarely saw them anyway.

The one person he did want to see though was you. He just wanted to know you were okay after last night. You seemed better when he left you compared to when he found you but you still weren’t yourself. He hadn’t seen you yet though which wasn’t unusual but it still bothered him.

He walked into the team changing room, not everyone was there yet but there were a few. Including Johnny who walked over to greet Chris, shaking his hand.

“Hey Storm, you’re not usually here this early” Chris commented.

Johnny shrugged “Got ready earlier than usual, you missed a good night last night”

“Sorry to hear it, hope you guys didn’t go too crazy” Chris said with a pointed look.

“Nah don’t you worry, we kept it chilled” Johnny reassured him with a clap on the shoulder “Was she okay?” he then asked his voice low.

Chris nodded “Fine, bit of a shit night out that's all, she was with the ticket office mean girls” he explained quietly.

Johnny pulled a face “god no wonder she thought it was shit” he grimaced “but glad she’s okay”

Chris nodded “Me too” he sighed even though he wasn’t confident that you were okay.

Johnny clapped Chris on the shoulder once more before turning and heading back to his cubby. Chris walked over to his, dumping his bag and opening it up to pull out what he needed. His kit was already hung up by the kit manager, he just needed his boots and gumshield.

He was about to start getting changed but before he even managed to get his suit off he felt this urge to make sure you were okay. It was like someone had flipped a switch and there was this animalistic desire to find you, one that he couldn’t ignore.

He mumbled a quick excuse before walking back out of the changing room. He made his way straight to the medic room where he would find you. To his surprise you weren’t in there, one of the other medics was instead.

“Hey, everything okay? Do you need anything?” the medic asked as he packed his bag.

Chris shook his head “Uh no, just- no” Chris stuttered as he tried and failed to think of an excuse “Are the other medics on the field already?” he then asked.

The medic nodded his head “Yeah they’re just prepping the bench”

Chris nodded despite wanting to curse. He wasn’t allowed out onto the pitch until warm-ups which meant he wouldn’t get the chance to ask you if you were okay. He couldn’t quench his desire to ensure you were okay.

“Cool thank you” Chris said before turning on his heel and walking back out towards the changing room.

He would just have to get over it and get his head in the game. He couldn’t be distracted thinking about whether you were okay, he needed to focus on the game and just hope that you were.

He was halfway back to the changing room when he crossed paths with your dad “Ah Evans just the person I wanted to talk to” he said.

“Everything alright sir?” Chris asked.

Coach Y/L/N nodded before gesturing with his finger “Yeah follow me” he said.

Chris followed him down the corridor before realising he was heading towards his office. Chris mentally cursed, had your dad somehow clocked on to your little arrangement? Was that why he couldn’t find you, because you were in your dad’s office?

To Chris’ relief, you weren’t inside your dad’s office but that didn’t mean he was off the hook, he was desperate to ask what was going on but he kept quiet.

“Right, I just wanted to ask you about this” Coach Y/L/N said pointing down to a piece of paper which was a printout of an online news article from a rugby news site.

Chris took a closer look and cursed silently, it was a picture of you and Chris walking home together last night. The photo was thankfully completely innocent, taken before Chris managed to get you to open up. His hands were in his pockets and your arms wrapped around your waist. However, that didn’t stop the site from speculating whether you were Chris’ new fling.

“Oh, oh this is nothing, sir, I promise,” Chris said with a shake of his head.

Your dad arched a brow “it is?”

Chris nodded “Yeah I was out with the guys last night for a meal to celebrate Ari’s birthday, when we left we spotted Y/N leaving a bar alone so I said I’d go make sure she was okay and ended up walking her home”

Your dad nodded his head slowly “Right okay, and was she? She doesn’t look okay to me”

Chris sighed wondering how much to say “Have you spoken to her sir?” he asked instead, your dad shook his head in answer “Well she didn’t tell me much but she said she went out with some of the girls from the ticket office and it wasn’t as fun as she thought but she seemed better by the time I left her”

Your dad nodded his head knowingly “That’s reassuring to know, and I will ask to thank you”

Chris smiled at him “It’s nothing, I’m sorry we got papped and made it look like something was going on, I just wanted to make sure she was okay and got home safe, absolutely nothing between us we’re just friends” he said hoping your dad didn’t see through his white lie.

Your dad snorted “I should hope not, you know better than that Evans” he warned “But thank you, I really appreciate it the past few months haven’t been easy for her so it’s good to know she has people looking out for her over here” he said.

Chris felt his mouth go dry and his throat constricted at the not-so-veiled warning your dad had just sent his way. It was clear that your dad wanted none of the team dating you, there would be no exceptions. The warning wasn’t enough to put Chris off though, he couldn’t give up the electric feeling he felt when he was with you. The team was also on a winning streak and Chris wasn’t a superstitious man but he also wasn’t gonna risk it.

“Of course sir” he coughed “No need to worry about me�� is there anything else you need?”

Your dad shook his head “No, just go out there and win”

Chris smirked as he saluted “Yes boss”

Chris made his way back to the changing room to prepare himself for the game. Despite everything Chris managed to get his head in the game with no issue at all. He felt ready to get out there and win. He was still worried about you but he could still focus, the two things weren’t mutually exclusive.

When Chris finally stepped out onto the pitch and saw you his worries were somewhat soothed. You seemed fine, okay even, but something was still different. It wasn’t something he could work out until the match started and he watched you jog on to help Johnny who needed some strapping on his knee.

Chris watched as you worked and saw the dynamic was completely different. Usually, you were all jokes and smiles as you worked but now you were straight face, you barely reacted to Johnny’s quips you just worked. You were being strictly professional.

You weren’t okay, what had happened last night was still playing on your mind and making you change the way you behaved. It pissed Chris off because you shouldn’t have to change how you acted around the team because of the opinions of people who really weren’t worth the trouble. Other people’s opinions shouldn’t matter full stop.

Chris decided that he wasn’t going to let this carry on any longer, as soon as this match was over he was gonna pay you a visit and build you back up until the opinion of Sam didn’t matter.

As it turned out though he didn’t need to wait for the end of the match. After completing a kick Chris felt a twinge in his upper thigh right by his hip. It was one that he would usually just play on for, it was one he could run off. But instead, he sat himself down on the pitch, wincing in pain waiting for you to come over.

“What’s wrong?” you asked once you jogged over to him, putting your medical bag down as you crouched.

“Twinge in my thigh, right here” he said pointing to the side of his thigh.

Normally you probably would have made some joke that included an innuendo but you just nodded “Okay let’s stretch it out, lie back and give me your leg” you said holding out your hand to catch his ankle.

Chris did as he was told, lifting up his leg ready to stretch. To lift it high enough and provide some resistance you lifted his ankle so it was resting on your shoulder. A smirk played on Chris’ lips at the sight.

He scratched his beard to hide his lips from sight as he said “You know it’s usually your leg on my shoulder, not the other way around”

Your eyes widened and he saw the ghost of a smile play at your lips “Chris” you hissed, no venom in your voice at all.

“I actually quite like the view, maybe you should be on top more” he smirked.

You shot him another look but he could see your defences falling, even if you were still desperately trying to act strictly professional.

“How are you feeling?” you asked him.

“Much better, you’ve got the magic touch” he grinned as he sat back up.

You let out a small snort and shook your head before passing him a bottle “rehydrate” you ordered.

He took the bottle from you and squeezed some water into his mouth. He watched as you packed your bag back up, your sight set firmly on the task instead of him. A mischievous grin grew on his face when an idea popped into his head. It was a dangerous idea but if it worked it would definitely bring back your smile.

While your attention was still on the bag Chris twisted the bottle around so when he squeezed it the water would squirt out at you instead of into his mouth. You clearly were paying more attention than you let on though as before he got the chance to squeeze the bottle you reached out, grabbed it and spun it back around the face him, the water squirting into his face instead.

Chris spluttered in surprise, but despite his plan backfiring it still worked as you were trying and failing to hold back a laugh. Chris grinned back at you and shook his head, water droplets running off his face.

“Nice try Evans” you smirked snatching the bottle back and putting it in your pack as you stood up.

You held out your hand to help him up which he gladly took “It worked though” he said quietly, you tilted your head in confusion “It got you to smile” he explained making your lips part in surprise “Don’t let the opinion of others stop you from being you” he added quietly before jogging off to go rejoin his team.

When he met his team in the huddle ready to give some instructions for the next phase of play, he spared a glance over to you as you jogged back off the pitch. A smile played on his lips as he spotted the one you hid with a bowed head. You might not be 100% fine but you were better and more yourself and that was all Chris could hope for. He’d work on getting you back to 100% later after he won this game.

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[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (24)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Characters: Jake Jensen

Warnings: established Stucky, caring mobsters, pregnant reader, polyamory, fluff, angst, a little silliness, sweet Jake

A/N: This is a reader-centered chapter. We learn what the reader did while Steve & Bucky were away.

Indecent Proposal (23)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

10 hours earlier, shortly after Bucky and Steve left, …

“What if you type on your laptop to find them?” You decided to take matters into your own hands and bug Jensen. He refused to tell you your husbands’ location, but this didn’t mean you cannot get on his nerves until he gives you more than another excuse.

“I told you that their location is top secret. If I say one word, they will kill me, or worse,” you cocked a brow.

“What’s worse than getting killed?” You asked. “I don’t think there are worse things they could do to you. Why do you fear them so much?”

“Oh, my sweet summer child,” Jensen waited a lifetime to use the quote from George R.R. Martin’s novel. He grinned proudly when you wrinkled your forehead. “You have no clue what they could do to me for even talking to you.”

“They are cuddly bears,” you huffed and sat on a chair next to Jensen. “I’m worried and bored. It's a deadly combination. They don’t want me to leave the mansion, and there is nothing to do but watch TV or read. But I can’t focus on shit.”

“Do you want to play a game? I can get you any game you want for free,” Jensen tried to distract you for a little while.

“What kind of games?”

“How about we play a roleplay or…wait…yes!” Jensen typed away on his laptop. “I got it. You’ll love the game. Give me a minute and we can play together.”

Jensen handed you a controller and switched one of the huge monitors on the wall on.

You didn’t want to play stupid games but agreed to distract yourself from overthinking things again.

“What is the game about?”

“Zombies,” he grinned and sat back down. “Uh-I hope you can stomach a little bit of blood and stuff.”

“Sure—” you sucked in a breath. “I mean…I’m not sure. If I puke it’s your fault.”

“I’ll take the blame then,” Jensen started the game. He explained the ropes to you before he let you choose a character. “We can play together. Stay behind my character in the beginning. He’s a killer dude!”

“Got it,” you looked at the controller to recall everything Jensen said. The first thing you did was walk straight into a group of zombies. Jensen did much better. He saved your character and killed all the zombies.

“Awesome, I found a magnum,” he did a little dance before guiding his character and yours inside an abandoned house. “We are safe here for now. In later chapters, you will get attacked.”

“You know the game well,” you said while fighting with the controller. “Do you play it often?”

“I made it,” he smirked. “Do not fret, my lady. I will bring you to safety.”

“You made it?”

“I designed it,” he shrugged when you gaped at him. “I always wanted to become a game designer.”

“That’s cool! I bet you made a shit-ton of money with the game. The characters look so real!”

“Yeah, that’s what I dreamed of,” he said, eyes saddening at the memory. “Sadly, the company I sold the game to tried to fuck me over. I had no other choice but to hack into their system and steal my own game.”

“I’m sorry, Jensen.”

“Nah,” he shook his head and gave you a cracked smile. “This way only I know how to beat the game. You’re the first person I allowed to play it.”

“Thank you,” you patted his thigh. “You’re a nice guy.”

“Please don’t tell Bucky and Steve so. I’m a dangerous criminal, remember?”

“Got it,” you whispered to not draw attention toward you and Jake. Your husbands’ men still guarded the doors. “You’re a bad guy. A mastermind and criminal. We all should fear you.”

“Uh-don’t overdo it. I don’t want them to end up killing me because I’m a danger to you…”

“Alpine! Come out, kitty,” you called Alpine’s name while looking for the cat. Another distraction was needed because Jake had to check on the security and watch the monitors. Something was happening outside the mansion, but you didn’t dare ask. “Alpine?”

Alpine meowed loudly. “There you are!” You grabbed the cat from its throne, Bucky’s old armchair at the library. “I was looking for you, punk.”

You giggled when the cat looked offended. “Aw, only Bucky can call you punk, huh? Well, he’s not here, so I’m going to call you punk.”

Alpine didn’t mind cuddles. The cat was looking for its owner, missing Bucky as much as you did. “Oh, wait! I know. Let’s brush your fur and get you a new collar.”

Carrying the cat inside the walk-in wardrobe to look for something to dress the cat you sighed. “I can’t get you a new collar, Alpine. Bucky said we must stay inside the mansion. But don't worry. I'll find a nice scarf or something for you.”

While Alpine got comfortable in your arms, you looked at the vanity, remembering Steve and Bucky gifted you more than one necklace.

“I know, punk. We will make you even prettier using my necklace…”

Part 24.2

Tags in reblog.

[fatalfairies]

SECOND PRINCE!SATORU GOJO x CARETAKER!READER

art credit: @/iorighin on X

a/n: not proofread but it’s cute

When you first saw Satoru,you felt sorry,such a beautiful man in the peak of his youth,he was sitting on the bed with his back supported on the pillows on the headboard slat of the large,luxurious bed.

“If you feel pity,please leave and do not return” were his very first words to you as you looked at him feeling questioned. Yes,you did feel sorry for him but you did not pity him.

“Well then,Your Highness,there is not any chance I am leaving.”

At first,he was distant to you yet polite. He tried to avoid as much help as he could from you. But maybe he forgot that the only reason you’re present here is for the sole reason of taking care of him and if that required you to use a little force,then you wouldn’t really mind. A part of you was being selfish and you were fully aware of it.

You had been recently widowed after your stupid bastard of a husband sacrificed himself to a war which brought no fruition and you were relieved. But the consequences which came along with was something you wouldn’t accept by any means,neither were you ready to become a nun and devote your life to god nor did you want to remarry most likely yet another man.

And this was the perfect opportunity for you for to become the second prince’s caretaker. To the eyes of others,a woman who had been recently widowed is helpless and serving a member of the Imperial Family would help with that.

During the first few months,Satoru disliked you,no that’s being too harsh,he by no means disliked you but he disliked how even a flutter of his eyelashes would draw your attention to him.

He had been pampered and taken care his entire life,as a prince it is nothing surprising.

Yet why is that under the gaze of your eyes,he feels so vulnerable and cared for like never before.

Satoru feels as though he had been brought back to his childhood when you promise to read him a book or take him to a stroll in the lovely imperial gardens or play board games with him.

In all these months,you had find out many things about him and one thing you were definetly sure of is that he never craved the power of the throne and crown as many might assume. All he wanted was to be free and enjoy his life.

As a Prince who has no way of inheriting the throne,he should have these luxuries but that is utterly wrong. He is always followed around by some guards or maids as though he is a helpless child and that is all because of this sickness.

It might be the cause he’s weak despite being born in a dynasty of powerful men and women but that is no reason to treat him as a porcelain doll that can break at any moment.

And he hates himself for it,sometimes.

Spending all these months with you he has rediscovered many things he thought were long lost in his distant memories. You were reading him a novel as a gift after he had his meal and medicine like a good bo..prince.

“Why are you staring me with such intensity,Your Highness ? Are you not enjoying this book ?” You asked him,your eyes leaving the pages of the book as you stare into his cerulean eyes. Hearing your voice other than reading the lines of the book,he looks at you,snapped back to reality as his mouth gapes open slightly,”No,you’re a good storysteller and have gotten the voice of a heavenly nymph.”

“Why,thank you. I’ll be sure to read them more to you since you are so fond of me doing so.” You return words back,playfully. Maybe there were improvements in your relationship with him afterall.

You didn’t quite expect the distant man you met months ago to have this playful. Although,it is indeed infinetly better than a man who acts like he’s constipated,such as your dead husband.

“Say,My Prince,what is your favourite flower ?” You asked looking at him as your hands were supporting his tall figure as you strolled with in the vast garden with a smile on your face.

“Any flower you bring me.” He says,chuckling. “I’m serious. Do not be silly.” “But you do prefer that.”

“Hm,alright then,I’ll just consider my favourite flower yours too.”

“I’d prefer that far better,anything favoured by you suddenly becomes favoured by me as well.”

“You’re being such a deceptive charmer. I am relieved I am the only lady who knows this side of yours,Your Highness.”

“It’s Satoru. Also,why ? are you afraid they would inevitably fall for my princely charms ?”

“Quite the opposite,My Prince.”

“Rude. But it’s sweet coming from you.”

Maybe this was the starting of something much more intimate yet unknown to both of you what would end up blooming in your hearts.

[horsegirlwarcrimes]

I am SO curious about the SQH Burnout Fic 🙇🏽‍♀️🙇🏽‍♀️🙇🏽‍♀️ i beg <333

i have a bad habit of writing a new sickfic to cope every time i feel unwell 😂 this one is SQH gets anxious about the future, overworks himself, and gets pneumonia. excerpt from near the end of the fic, which i wrote first for some reason?

Shang Qinghua isn’t sure what makes him aware of the change in the room. A shift in the air, a sound, maybe just the slightest drop in temperature. He blinks, sleepy and bleary, at the pages of the novel he was failing to read, feeling warm and syrupy from whatever was in the medicine Mu Qingfang was dosing him with. “My king?” Mobei-jun steps from the shadows silently, and comes to sit at the edge of his bed. He’s dressed down, unarmored— just soft silk robes and simple boots, no weapons or jewelry save a pendant around his neck. Shang Qinghua recognizes it as one he gave his king when he was still a disciple, some ridiculous one-of-a-kind protection artifact that he’d known to snatch out of a crumbling temple thanks to special author knowledge, about forty years before it was going to become plot relevant. He hadn’t realizes that Mobei-jun still had it. Had he been wearing it all this time? Mobei-jun’s cold claw-tips brush through his bangs. “Shang Qinghua,” he says, rumbling and familiar. Shang Qinghua blinks up at him. “My king,” he repeats. And, suddenly struck by the memory of exactly what position(s?) the king of the Northern Desert last saw him in, feels his face heat in a way that has nothing to do with any lingering fever. “My king! I’m so—” Mobei-jun halts him with a raised hand. “You are recovering?” “Yes, my king,” Shang Qinghua says. “I’m doing much better already.” “Good.” Mobei-jun pulls over the chair that Shen Qingqiu was sitting in earlier. The sight of his hulking form dragging over and delicately maneuvering into the small chair sparks something warmer than amusement in Shang Qinghua’s chest. “This king… must apologize.” Shang Qinghua’s gaze jerks up. “W-what?” “You were sick. Humans are weakened by the cold. I allowed you to stay and work in the North anyways, and missed the signs of your ill health. Qinghua could have died.” “But I didn’t. I wouldn’t have! My king, I was just sick, it wasn’t… as bad as all that. I’m a cultivator, it takes more than some cold weather to take me out.” He gives an awkward laugh. “It does take more than the cold. Qinghua was overworking himself, and was hiding from this king.” “But I overwork myself all the time,” Shang Qinghua says, the words coming out more earnestly than he means them to. He drops the book and wraps his arms around himself, looking away. “I’ve been working like this since I was a disciple. I don’t understand what’s changed. I should have just felt bad for a little bit and then dealt with it and gotten better. It shouldn’t have been such a big deal.” “I am sorry,” Mobei-jun repeats. He runs his fingers through Shang Qinghua’s loose hair again, and Shang Qinghua leans tiredly into the touch. “I… regret. The part I played in not allowing Qinghua to rest. Then, and now.” Shang Qinghua’s face feels hot. He scrubs at his eyes, the feeling only intensifying as Mobei-jun continues to run his cold hands through his hair, his claws pleasantly scraping against his scalp, the touch comforting. “It’s fine, my king,” he says. “It is not. But I will endeavor not to make the same mistake again.” Shang Qinghua leans miserably into Mobei-jun’s cool touch.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Teach Me Tonight

Part of my 900 Followers Celebration!

Request: Congrats on the 900, love reading your work! Can I request “Okay, maybe I have a crush on you! So what?”  with Roy.

Roy Kent x Teacher!Reader

1.5k words

Warnings: Language, mentions of Ms. Bowen, Roy being a flirt, Reader getting embarrassed

Author's Note: I've had Roy with a teacher stuck in my head for a while now. No reason of course. None at all. Totally not because I'm a teacher.

The clock seemed to move so slowly as you sat at your desk, ignoring the spelling test you should be marking. The kids were all gone for the day, and you were waiting for your meeting, your last task before you could head home for the day.

Phoebe had, once again, gotten into a fistfight. And, once again, it meant calling home to set up a meeting.

You checked your watch; yep, the clock on the wall was right, which meant Phoebe’s mum was incredibly late. With a sigh, you began packing up your things, figuring you’d send her mum a quick message asking to reschedule. Yes, in a half hour you’d be on your couch with a glass of wine and the romance novel that was sitting on your coffee table. Your mind wandered to your fridge, trying to figure out what you could scrounge up for dinner-

“Fuck, sorry I’m late.”

Oh, no. Not him.

Phoebe’s uncle burst into the room, clad in that leather jacket he always wore and a deep frown on his face. Truly, you shouldn’t have been so unhappy at the sight of him; you’d met Roy Kent quite a few times now, sometimes chatted a little during drop-off and pickup, and he was always very nice, although he often required reminders about his language when the kids were around. At the start of the year, he sincerely encouraged you to reach out to him if you ever needed anything, something you were terrified of taking him up on.

He was Roy Kent, after all. Gorgeous and famous. And besides that, you’d heard murmurings about Ms. Bowen’s awkward interactions with him last year; there was no way you were going to subject yourself to that. No thank you.

Still, you couldn’t help but smile as he shuffled towards your desk, embarrassed half-smirk on his face. You quickly grabbed a chair and placed it next to your desk, always amused to see adults sitting in chairs meant for eight-year-olds. Especially when that adult was a muscular ex-footballer.

“My sister got pulled into a last-minute surgery,” he explained, a tad breathless. “Got here as fast as I fucking could.” He seemed to remember where he was. “Shit, sorry.” He glanced around. “There any kids hanging around?”

You shook your head with a laugh. “You’re fine. Just don’t let Mrs. Selig hear you, though.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to miss training because I’ve got a fucking detention.” He leaned forward, his face becoming serious. “Now, what did Pheebs do this time?”

Unlike most parents, Phoebe’s adults were very self-aware. You liked that. “Well,” you started, glancing down at your notes. “Apparently, she overheard Harold making fun of Abby for not doing so well on a maths test. And Phoebe originally just told him to stop, and when he shoved Pheobe and told her to stay out of it, she relieved him of two of his baby teeth.” You offered a half-grimace, half-smile. “The girl’s got a mean right hook.”

Roy laughed, a sound you didn’t quite expect. “Well, fuck. What’s the punishment then?”

“Missing recess for the rest of the week.”

His eyebrows flew up. “That’s it? She just has to miss a few days of fucking jump rope and hopscotch?”

You nodded. “I went to the headmistress and explained that Phoebe was defending a friend, and that Harold was really the one who escalated things. And she agreed that really, Phoebe just needs a reminder to, you know, not hit people.” You tapped your desk. “Just, if you could, chat with her. No knocking people’s teeth out, no matter how awful they’re being to your friends. And that she should let an adult know if someone’s acting prickish. Believe it or not, some of us know how to handle that sort of thing.” You shrugged. “That’s about it.”

“Wow. Easiest conference I’ve ever come to,” he laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Guess you can get home to your husband, then.”

Your face warmed. “No husband,” you replied. “No wife. No boyfriend. No girlfriend.”

“Sugar daddy?”

Thank God you weren’t drinking anything, otherwise it would’ve come out your nose. “D’you think I’d be here if I had one of those?” you joked.

His smile made your chest tighten. “True.” He glanced around. “Mind if I take a peek?” He pointed at the wall where you had students’ writing displayed.

“Oh. Um, yeah, go for it.”

You watched him walk over to the bulletin board, amused by the slow, intentional way he looked at each child’s paper. He perked up when he saw Phoebe’s.

“They wrote about the person they admire most,” you explained as you left your desk to join him. “Pheebs wrote about you, of course.”

He gave a little hum as his eyes skimmed the paper. “Don’t know if I deserve that.”

“From what I hear, you do,” you assured him, feeling bold enough to bump him with your shoulder. “She basically worships you.”

His voice was low. “She’s an idiot.”

You grinned. “She’s eight. They’re all idiots.” Your eyes narrowed playfully. “Don’t ever tell anyone I said that, alright? As far as everyone knows, I’m bloody Mary Poppins.”

His eyes wandered over your face. “Your secret’s safe with me.” He strolled over to the bulletin board where you had your birthday calendar, reminders about upcoming tests and field trips, and copies of flyers for parents. He looked at each item carefully before pointing at one particular reminder. “You still need help with Friday’s field trip?”

“I always need help with field trips,” you answered, crossing your arms. “But I’m sure you have training-”

“I can be there.”

You blinked a few times, not sure how to respond to the quickness of his answer mixed with the soft way he looked at you. “You want to get on a hot bus with two dozen eight-year-olds and go to the zoo with them? Make sure everyone gets their lunch and no one wanders into the lions’ enclosure?”

He shrugged, ears beginning to tinge pink. “You just said you need help. I’d like to help you.”

Not I want to spend the day with Phoebe. Not Hey, good excuse to call off work, like some parents you knew would say. Nope, it was I’d like to help you.

Suddenly your throat was far too dry and Roy Kent was standing far too close to you. “Oh. Thank you, then.”

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” He leaned against the wall, the very picture of attractive.

Damn, there was a lot you’d like his help with. And none of it was appropriate for the classroom.

Instead of saying that, of course, you shook your head. “I know you’re a busy man, Coach Kent, there’s honestly no need-”

“You can call me Roy.”

Oh hell.

He continued. “Y’know, at the start of the year I told you could ask me for help. And I haven’t received a single fucking email, but I heard Abby’s mum gets called all the time to help out.” He raised his eyebrows, clearly just trying to give you a hard time. “Hardly seems fair to me. Is it because I’m a man? Because that’s kind of sexist, y’know.”

God, he was so freaking charming when he teased.

“No, it’s not that-”

He leaned closer, clearly enjoying watching you squirm. “What is it then? You a West Ham fan or something? Don’t want a Greyhound in your classroom?” His eyes flickered to your lips for the tiniest fraction of a second. “Couldn’t be because I make you nervous or anything, right?”

His brown eyes broke down every barrier of professionalism you had. “Okay, maybe I have a crush on you, so what?” Immediately your hands flew to your mouth, your face burning with embarrassment. “Fuck. Wait, no, I-”

“Excuse me, please no swearing in the classroom.” His voice was full of teasing as he gazed down at you. Slowly, he took your hands and brought them away from your face. When he saw the absolute terror in your eyes, his smirk disappeared. “Hey, wait. Fuck, are you alright?”

You shook your head, a lump forming in your throat. “I shouldn’t have said that,” you whispered. “It was, um, impulsive and unprofessional and childish and-”

“And exactly what I wanted to hear.”

His words bounced around in your head. “I’m sorry?”

His face was no longer teasing or concerned; it was bashful. “Why d’you think I want to help in the classroom so badly? I need a fucking excuse to be near you.” He still held your hands, his grip softening. “But I’m sure you’re not supposed to date parents-”

“You’re not a parent.” The words flew out of your mouth before you could even think about them.

Amusement returned to those handsome features. “Uncles are alright, then?”

“Only if they’re really grumpy and swear a lot.”

When he smiled, you felt sure your heart was going to explode out of your chest. “Well in that case, how about Friday, after the zoo? I’m sure you’ll need a fucking drink.”

In spite of your nerves, you nodded, not caring about looking cool or coy or aloof. “That would be lovely. Thank you, Coach Kent.”

He gave your hands a small squeeze before letting go and backing away. “I told you, call me Roy.” He gave a small salute as he made his way to the door. “See you Friday then.”

“See you Friday, Roy.”

[youaintnothinbuta]

Goodness Gracious, you're so good at writing Jack hurt/comfort! If you're still taking requests, may I please request one where the reader gets a mild concussion and Jack makes sure she's ok?

Thank you!! You absolutely can, I looove writing hurt/comfort 🥺

“Have you been in pain this whole time?” — jack kelly x reader

Summary: you get a concussion from banging your head, jack looks after you and you share a little treat from Medda together

Pairing: jack kelly x fem!reader

Word count: 1183 (sorry didn’t mean to write a novel)

Warnings: none! Fluff, comfort, probably typos

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Earlier in the day, you and a couple of the other newsies had finished up selling your papers and were heading back to the lodging house. Turning sharply around the corner of a building, you entered an alleyway. Unexpectedly, a scaffold met your head with a resounding force.

How embarrassing.

Jack pleaded with you from the moment it happened, trying to offer you any sort of care. “Are you alright? Maybe we should get some ice on that. I don’t feel right letting you walk around.”

Not wanting to make a fuss, you argued with him, “I’m fine, Jack,” though the throbbing pain in your head suggested otherwise.

“I don’t think you are, Y/N. You hit your head pretty hard back there.”

“It wasn’t that hard.”

Jack dropped the conversation as you both made your way back to the lodging house. Unwilling to admit the pain you were in, you retreated to your bed, blaming your discomfort on the morning’s particularly exhausting paper hawking. Convinced that a little rest would fix it, you closed your eyes, hoping the pain would dissipate, that was, until hours passed, you only felt worse.

You hadn’t moved from your bed in hours, yet your head was becoming increasingly sensitive to light and all the noises going on around you. Not to mention, the raging headache you had going on. You figured it might be best to actually tell Jack, even if it meant swallowing your pride and proving him right.

You lifted your body up with a heavy sigh, placing your feet on the ground, taking a moment to gain some strength as you stood for the first time in hours. Slowly, your trudged your way through the corridor and across into Jack’s room, bringing your fist up to the door to knock.

“Come in.” You heard Jack’s voice call, being greeted by the door opening before you could even get your hand onto the handle.

“My head,” you muttered with a small cry, meeting his eyes with a plea for help.

“Oh, honey,” he enveloped you in a gentle hug, “have you been in pain this whole time?”

You nodded, the admission surfacing as you allowed yourself to lean into his comforting embrace.

“Should have said something earlier, sweetheart. I knew that sounded like it hurt,” Jack remarked with a mixture of concern and understanding.

Jack gently guided you to sit on the edge of his bed. With a reassuring smile, he disappeared momentarily, returning with a small bottle of medicine and spoon in hand.

He settled beside you, handing you the spoon. “Here. It’s for kids, so maybe take three spoonfuls instead of two.” A light chuckle escaped him, injecting a moment of warmth into the room. Accepting the medicine gratefully, you mustered a weak smile. Jack observed you closely as you took a few spoonfuls, reclaiming the bottle with a nod of approval before stepping out once again.

Returning, he held a damp cloth, cool water soothingly soaking through. He laid down on his bed, inviting you to get comfy in his arms and placed the towel on your forehead. The soothing sensation provided a welcome relief, and as you nestled against him, his arm draped protectively over you, the remaining tension began to ease.

“Thank you, Jack.”

“It’s alright, just promise that if you’re hurt, you won’t go hiding it from me, okay?”

“I promise.” You spoke quietly, nodding slightly.

“That’s a girl.”

The room, dimly lit by the soft glow of daylight filtering through the curtains, held a quiet tranquility. The rhythmic sounds of the city outside seemed to fade into the background as Jack, with a tenderness you hadn’t fully expected, continued to offer comfort.

He murmured softly, “Just rest. We’ve got nowhere to be right now.”

As you closed your eyes, the pain in your head dulled to a distant ache. The steady rise and fall of Jack’s chest became a calming lullaby, and the touch of his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your arm added an extra layer of reassurance.

Time passed in a hazy blur, and before you knew it, you had drifted into a peaceful slumber. Jack, careful not to disturb your rest, continued to hold you close. As time went by, you began to wake from your much needed nap. Sensing your awakening, he gently removed the damp cloth from your forehead. He smiled, his fingers gently brushing strands of wet hair away from your face. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

You took a moment to assess yourself. Surprisingly, the throbbing pain had dissipated, leaving behind a lingering sense of calm. “Better. Thanks to you,” you replied, offering him a grateful smile.

Jack chuckled softly. He helped you sit up, ensuring you were comfortable before standing up himself. “Hungry?”

The mention of food reminded you that you hadn’t eaten much throughout the day, and the prospect of a meal sounded enticing. You nodded, “A bit.”

Together, you made your way to the dining hall of the lodging house.

“Don’t tell the others,” Jack reached into the refrigerator and grabbed an inconspicuously wrapped food item.

Jack, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, stood by the stove, carefully arranging what you could now see was two slices of Miss Medda’s blueberry pie in a pan. The aroma promised a delightful treat.

You watched as he wrapped up the rest of the pie and hid it back in the fridge, clearly not wanting the other boys to steal it. Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around you from behind. His embrace was firm yet gentle, and the warmth of his body added a comforting weight around you, holding you steady. Nestling his face into the crook of your neck, he sighed contentedly.

“Smells good, doesn’t it?” he murmured, his lips tickling your skin as he spoke almost against them.

You chuckled, savoring the intimate moment. “Better than good. Where’d you get it?”

Jack shook his head, “Miss Medda. She made it for me.”

“Aw, how lovely.” You smiled.

Jack took one last inhale against your skin before standing up straight and placing a fingertip against the centre of the pie, feeling for warmth.

When the food was ready, Jack moved the two slices on a single plate. He handed you a fork and grabbed one for himself, his eyes never leaving yours. The unspoken connection between you two deepened as you made your way to the dining hall.

Jack, having seamlessly transitioned from caregiver to fellow newsie, caught your eye and grinned. “Feeling better?” he asked, and you nodded in affirmation. The boys around, seeing what was in front of you, got rather excited about the prospect of a nice homemade pie being available. Jack, unfortunately, let them down, saying Medda had only given him the two pieces, giving your side a gentle pinch as he lied.

You and Jack enjoyed the pie together, sharing glances that spoke volumes as the lively chatter of the other newsies filled the room. After finishing the dessert, you both cleaned up your dishes and headed back up to Jack’s room.

[thankshermin]

About Beast!Dazai and His Strategies Backfiring

It backfired so bad he ended up offing himself so I have to talk about it a little. I might be a little biased because I've been crying to Beast for like two years now and I can't be consoled.

Look... Beast!Dazai makes me want to cry hysterically, just like most things about Beast, but one thing especially strikes. 

Literally, NO ONE liked him and that was not what he wanted, at all he was not cool with this but there was nothing he could do about it.

He did every little shitty thing purely out of his selfish wishes– he wanted to be loved, particularly by Oda. So he thought he could do whatever he wanted because he knew he had/has people who cared/cares about him in the other universes. He was paying special attention to Oda because they couldn’t be both alive and well and friends in any other universe. He thought that the other bonds he had with other people would just happen someday and that it was a package deal. 

But he did NOT put any effort into that. Therefore, no one likes him. In fact, I'd say lots of characters dislike Beast!Dazai strongly. 

(and I can't even blame them because Dazai was an asshole for the whole light novel,,, if you want people to care about you YOU have to show them that, Dazai, I'm sorry no one taught you that you are so tragically unaware of everything it makes me sad) 

Still... he didn’t want it to turn that way. The thing I'd like to see more people mentioning is the fact that Beast!Dazai is a very emotionally driven character. He might be the Boss of the Mafia but that doesn't automatically mean he can't be highly emotional. He acted the way he did because he tried to pursue something he wanted, not because it was necessary for the Port Mafia. 

...Says the Boss himself.

While the mafia is obviously powerful as hell in Beast, it is still sad because... well, still no one likes the boss so what is even the point of being the leader. (I’m aware Mori is also not loved among most of the characters but it’s not his turn yet so just ignore him.) 

And I’m always telling people this but what makes me like (canon) Dazai’s character is the fact that he is constantly trying. He is not the best person out there but hey he is improving, okay? And that’s what matters to me. I love it when characters show development, whether it’s towards the good or bad side. 

What draws the line between Canon and Beast Dazai’s is that Canon!Dazai has people who care about his well-being (I'm not arguing about this with anybody but just in case if you want examples; Atsushi, Kunikida, the whole ADA actually, Chuuya, Ango, even Mori and i can still go on) and that he is learning from his mistake whileBeast!Dazai had never tried to change and just did whatever he wanted and now, surprise surprise, no one likes him. 

TL;DR: I feel so bad for Beast!Dazai I wish he didn’t constantly harm those around him and instead made some friends. His small conversation at the bar with Oda speaks volumes.

He was so happy that his eyes were glowing because he finally found someone he thought would be the #1 best friend in the world (yeah how did that feel when you got a gun pointed at you, Dazai? Turns out you don't automatically become friends with the person who has a valid reason to hate you.) 

Anyway thx for reading my rambling I have to go back to study biology for now.

[tempest-teacup]

okay now I'm curious because I've just read through all your ship review stuff what's your OTP/Favourite ship (Any quadrant) for Sollux? I like seeing what people do with him shipwise because I ship him with like,,,, most of the cast (Multishipper moment)

I like the term “ship review” because it makes it sound like I’m writing a newspaper article. “Hello readers, this weekend I investigated Davekat and LET ME TELL YOU…”

Now, okay, you’re about to be sorry you asked because I could write a fricken novel about this one.

I like Erisol a lot and I’m mad at myself for it. Like it feels too obvious of a ship to be good but I’m obsessed. And even after I eventually accepted that I liked them black, I was then angry to learn that I like them flushed too. UGH!!!

Anyway here’s why.

First of all you have to get on board with being an Eridan sympathizer. Yes he is an asshole and a dipshit but that’s kind of the whole deal with Trolls. He just happened to be an asshole dipshit who was born into the equivalent of like, the Tr*mp family or something. Also he had to constantly hunt and murder to keep his species alive. And his best friend and crush kinda maybe used him/lead him on for said hunting and murdering and then literally *dumped him to go smooch another boy the second she didn’t need him anymore.* And they’re THIRTEEN when starting the game, I can’t stress this enough.

Gang, I dunno about y’all but when I was in middle school I had some REAL SHITTY OPINIONS.

Ahem. Moving on.

Sollux also has a similar relationship with Being Responsible For the Fate of His Species. He is also An Asshole Dipshit Teenager. Bro just got born into the opposite end of the spectrum. And I know that all of the Trolls obviously have a relationship to the apocalypse but these two have have been dealing with theirs forever(?) and they are just unescapable parts of how each kid has to exist day to day.

IT’S REALLY SAD!

The more you look at these two, the more they appear as opposites, or if you prefer, the concept of yin and yang. I mean, ugh. Hope and Doom. HOPE AND DOOM, Y’ALL.

They’re both so deep in their own social niches, they look at the other and think “I would NEVER!!” Eridan has so much Hope in the caste system that he blindly believes it will save him in the end. Sollux feels so Doomed by it that he has resigned himself to being a lazy burnout even though we know damn well how much potential has has both as an intellectual and a psionic. In the end both of them reject the destiny that’s expected of them.

Ok, you still with me? Because what I’m doing here is setting up why these two are star-crossed lovers in either/both quadrants.

It’s a little sad that they never get the chance to become kismesis in canon, because not only do they get under eachother’s skin but they are so cat-and-mouse about it. Like, granted I have my issues with Pesterquest but their duel in that is so good. Eridan just casually calling him up, knowing he’s being an ass. Sollux *answering and humoring him.* Eridan’s utter glee at their proposed battle. The way he gets to showboat (heh, boat) about it. The boy gets to VAMP! And Sollux purposely choosing not to to go hard enough to kill him. Come on. These guys are dancing, they’re honing their claws.

Oh and what’s that?? Eridan learning a valuable lesson? Sollux getting off his ass and doing something (that’s not self-destructive)? Oh my, could it be that their rivalry mutually benefits them?! Just look at what a stinky lump Sollux is in HS^2 *without* Eridan.

And then we get into the vacillating/flipping to flushed.

I won’t bore you too much, I can already hear the awards show music playing me off, but I think if there’s a universe where Eridan and Sollux exist post-Erisolsprite then it’s all over for these two losers, they can’t NOT date. Whether they like it or not, they’ve reached a level of intimacy beyond anything they’ve ever experienced. They know eachother’s truest selves, they’ve seen the very best and worst of each other. And hey, guess what they found? Someone who’s just like them and balances the other perfectly.

Mic drop. Book slam. THEY’RE IN LOVE, YOUR HONOR.

[gravitycavity]

[Preview] ☀️ Sunshine (Pomni x Ragatha) Chapter 6

[Click here to read from the beginning on AO3!]

Ragatha drifted away from the cozy embrace, warm breath shuddering in sync with the rest of her body. Her good eye peeked open — just a crack. Her hands turned slack and listless. One-by-one, her bulky fingers lost their grip on Pomni’s tunic until, at last, the ragdoll felt herself falling. 

Pomni caught her, of course — Ragatha knew she would. 

Safe and secure in the arms of her darling, the dolly pulled her legs toward her core, making herself small as her eyes dragged all the way open. It had felt like an eternity since she’d last laid her eyes upon her dashing knight, and she couldn’t stand to wait a single second more.

She was just that beautiful. 

Pomni’s hesitant smile, framed by her perennial blush, regarded Ragatha from high above. Ragatha’s face bloomed to match it. The jester brightened, too. Back and forth they went, reflecting the other’s expression until each woman’s face had been sculpted into a mask of pure radiance.

“...So?” Pomni beamed. A hint of pride had snuck into her grin while Ragatha wasn’t looking, “How was that?”

Wonderful. Absolutely, unbelievably, impossibly wonderful. Never before had Ragatha felt this kind of rush — her head fuzzy, her limbs tingling, her heart beating so quickly that it actually hurt. 

If any of her past romantic rendezvous were any indication, Ragatha had been sure that all those romance novels had been exaggerating. She didn’t think it was actually possible to become breathless at the mere thought of another person. She didn’t think the sight of a single pair of eyes could actually make the whole world cease to exist — yet here she was, cuddled up in the arms of another, stupidly in love. 

But there was no chance in hell she’d actually say any of that sickeningly-saccharine fluff out loud, of course. Goodness gracious, could you imagine? No, Ragatha’s love language was a little bit more subtle than that — and, contrary to her usual personality, a little bit meaner, too. 

“Hmph.” Ragatha crossed her arms, pointing her face toward the wall. She pursed her lips to conceal a sly smile. “Just as I suspected…”

Pomni’s newfound confidence cracked just like that, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s nothing. Just…” Ragatha teased, spinning her ankle, “Oh, nevermind.”

“Nevermind!? You can’t just say that!”

“I just did.”

“Ragatha!” Pomni fumed, “Tell me!” 

“Alright, if you insist,” Ragatha pretended to force out a hard sigh, barely able to contain her boisterous laughter. Good lord, teasing this girl would never, ever get old. “Don’t get me wrong. Kissing you was a dream come true, but,” she paused, “and please don’t take this the wrong way—”

“Spit it out, already!”

“— you aren’t a very good kisser.”

Pomni's whole body thrashed backward; her face was fully boiled. “WH-WHAT?!”

“Sorry, to burst your bubble, Sweetheart, but I’m too nice to lie to you. That was pretty bad.” Ragatha smirked, seizing hold of Pomni’s tunic once again. She pulled herself in, utterly captivated by the nervous panic spreading across the jester’s face. “Looks like I have a lot to teach you…”

“W-Well…!” Pomni squirmed in place, sweat beading on her brow, “You are pretty good at that! T-T-T-Teaching, I mean…”

“Yeah?” Ragatha laid down a trio of smooches on Pomni’s cheek, giggling all the while. “So I’ve been told~”

“Y-Yeah…!” Pomni clumsily nodded. Eventually, at the end of a long, winding stream of swallowing, stammering, and shuddering, the awkward young woman finally found her words. “So, um,” Her voice was small, and shrinking by the second,  “maybe, if it’s okay with you, you could sh-show me the right way? Using that special teaching method of yours…?” 

Ragatha blinked. “Special teaching method?”

“You know! Your, um…” the heat radiating off of Pomni’s face nearly fogged up the ballroom’s grandiose windows, “...hands-on approach?” 

---

Thank you for your patience! I'm working hard on chapter 6. Tell me what you think of the preview! :)

[Click here to read from the beginning on AO3!]