#WHY WERE THERE HORSES ITS SO RANDOM N SILLY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rumblelibrary · 3 years

Note

Hello, it's me again, your friendly neighborhood... Hungarian?!...👀❤️

Can I request a Sebastian Zöllner fic, where he is a coworker of Reader, and there's an obvious sexual tension, attraction in the office, they sit opposite each other, legs touching sometimes, hands touching... Idunno... Things like this 👀🔥 but nothing happened... Yet...🔥🔥

Never an Enemy [Sebastian Zöllner x Fem!Reader]

Word count: 5k

Warnings: A bad mouthed journalist with strong opinions about art and performance that might offend

Author’s note: Did I let this idea simmer in me for ages? Yes. Did I ever stopped thinking about it? NO.

You hummed softly while the music blasted in your headphones as you made your way up the stairs to the headquarters of the Art Tribune, the art focused magazine you worked for since over a year.

You liked the job even if to deal with artists was hard and the pay check could really deserve an improvement, it was stimulating and surely kept you on the edge. That morning in particular you needed to revise some background stories and just loads of reading to do to work on a new article for an upcoming exhibition. Just the usual fact checking, but you just couldn’t do it at home the day before so you decided to come early and enjoy some peace and quiet at the office.

You arrived at the top of the stairs of the fourth floor with a groan, you told yourself you had to do the stairs because you spent 70% of your life sitting in front of a computer, kind of self care, but brutal. You groaned lightly going straight toward the little kitchen installed for the team when you noticed something in the empty shared room full of desks. It was actually a really nice place with big industrial style windows that let lots of light inside, a very smart environment to work in, with areas where you could relax, free Wifi and loads of facilities. Usually people were put in big desks together, facing each other, trying to push a sort of ‘community feeling’.

Inevitably most of the people created barricades with books, and pictures of their dogs or even empty coffee cups. Yes, all cute and artistic, but do not talk to me.

That’s what also the attitude of the man you shared your desk with on your first day. He whined like a child for twenty minutes, complained he was happy to work alone, followed the assistant of the editor around the office and created a barricade of catalogues between the two of you so thick that you wondered if it was also bulletproof, only to rest his elbows over it half an hour asking if you had the change for the vending machine. Yes, that random man was you colleague and friend, Sebastian Zöllner.

The same that you are witnessing now asleep on the desk, head resting on his crossed arms while a stand of saliva went down on his shirt, wild hair and shoes taken off.

He could be considered an attractive man if he wasn’t a bloody nightmare of a person. You actually worked a lot with him and enjoyed his presence most of the days, your characters folded nicely and you would bounce off his attitude. He was strong on biographies and annoying the shit out of others, so he was always nagging at someone, you included.

You smirked slowly tracing his hair with your fingers, he never looked so innocent and you were always surprised to learn how those messy hair were so soft. It wasn’t the first time you did that gesture, sometimes he did lean his head like this only to be touched like an annoying mewling cat that needs attentions. “Kaffee” He mumbled making you chuckle, such a an annoying brat and he didn’t even open his eyes.

You carried on walking to the little kitchen room to prepare some coffee for you and your desk partner. You shook your head aimlessly as you started wondering why the man is here at this hour and if it was really a good idea to wake him up. To have him awake means to be able to do little to zero.

You watched the coffee get ready, the comforting tune of your morning playlist getting you still on the good side of your mood as you poured the coffee in your mug.

Then you saw it, an arm sneaking in front of you and taking the mug from your hand, you jump scared in a second almost pouring the rest of the coffee on the whole kitchen counter only to encounter Sebastian sleepy figure behind you bringing the mug close to his nose and inhaling deeply the aroma before having a gulp, you stared at him as his jaw clenched, his eyes got a bit teary. “Fucking hot” he whined making you chuckle, he deserved it for stealing it, luckily you were already doing some more for him so he stole your favourite mug but you had some coffee for you left.

You pulled off your headphones leaning them on your neck “No idea you’d be sleeping at the office, weren’t you off on some interview ?”

He shrugged “yeah, well me neither, but interviewing sculptors is always annoying as shit and those are always supersensitive” he said opening the freezer and pulling out some ice cubes from their box and putting them in the coffee mug. “Scheiße!” He cursed as the ice cube landing in the mug caused the coffee to spill onto his white shirt. You pressed your lips tight against each other not to laugh into his face, but he was already pissed off and it wasn’t even proper work time. You watched him lean over the sink trying to wash it off somehow without even bothering to take it off, just adding chaos on chaos.

“Y/N! Do not laugh and try to help me! Beside, the heck are you doing here at this hour?” You rolled your eyes at that comment, but you didn’t indulge him in that request.

“I was just looking for silence”

He nodded like he didn’t believe a single word of it, he was just an asshole and you had to deal with it like it or not. You almost hated how he was so freaking good at writing and that’s probably why many people indulged him. Even you knew his pieces on the magazine and didn’t expect to find out he was so…so Sebastian.

You let out a breathy chuckle taking your mug and making your way to your joined desk letting him wrestle his balance over the kitchen sink trying to get the stain wet and not shower himself in the meanwhile.

You sat down at your spot leaning the mug on side, hands covering your face trying to keep a clear mind letting out a big breath “okay, let’s do this”

You turned on the lamplight on your desk pulling out your laptop from your backpack. As the computer was ‘waking up’ you stared at Sebastian side of the desk compared to yours.

You had like a little citadel of books around you, but it was pretty neat, a little succulent gifted by your friend for your first day at work with the name tag ‘Danny’ on it sitting beside the lamp, lots of pencils and pens of different colours and notebooks to no end. If you had something in common with that beast of a man was that you both still relied on paper for sketching ideas and write down impressions in the moment, then onto the typing.

His side, however, was like a contemporary artwork in itself. Half empty cigarettes packages everywhere, the ashtray filled up, paper inside books and books filled with more papers. Notes everywhere, the damn king of neon yellow post-its, stains of coffee and crumbles of food invert corner, his red laptop showing off like a punch in the eye and his satchel bag always hang or thrown around.

You often wondered if the cleaning stuff just gave up on him. Your lucky guess was that he would probably throw a fit if anything was moved, so everyone just played the blind eye.

He was good at throwing fits.

You watched him come back sitting in front of you, half of his shirt soaked in the attempt to clean it up, he licked his lips picking one empty package of cigarettes looking in it and throwing it away until he found one with still something in it and he lighted his cigarette as he turned on his laptop. You sighed opening the window to let the fresh air not getting you intoxicated.

You went back to sip your coffee and stare at the screen quietly, every now and then your eyes falling onto the little cloud of smoke in front of you.

Sebastian was an attractive man, that was undeniable and you were sure that made him also a successful interviewer even though he was so random and chaotic, when he was silent and collected in thoughts he was indeed a sight to be seen. The dark hair framing his face like he was some cherub, his deep eyes staring into the void of his own words as he typed. He had a sort of decadent look on him.

Slowly the office begun to get filled, people coming here and there to tease Seb about coming early and he just waving his cigarette around asking for silence.

“Zöllner””

The chief editor shouted getting into his office without even turning around. Seb rolled his eyes looking at you as he pushed the cigarette in the ashtray waving his hand around to dissipate the smoke around him before standing up.

“I wonder how he managed to survive few days without shouting my name” he smirked.

You looked at him and mimicked his smirk.

What a chaotic man.

You had finished your reading by then and started to make a first draft of the article you were meant to work on.

“Y/N!!!” Sebastian voice rang through the office making you jump on your seat and he gestured at you to go with him with a big wave of his arm.

You looked at your screen with an helpless sigh, it seems like you will not write that article anytime soon, you’d better just have slept an hour more.

You stood up following that incessant wave as Seb put his hand on your back to get you in a bit quicker.

“Good morning”

You said as the chief editor nodded quietly “Look Y/N, it is a big favour I have to ask you” he begun frankly as you were beginning to get worried “you did your time with silly articles, so I thought it could be interesting to pair you up with Sebastian to go to tonight’s exhibition of Evita Schnecke”

Your eyes went wide as you looked at Sebastian shrug his shoulders.

“I need somebody to keep the horse with tight rains” Mr Megelbach continued gesturing with his pen at Sebastian and then at you “and you will dip your toes in those big time artists environment, but we really need to make sure Sebastian won’t hurt anyone’s sensibility, her interview has been obtained with lots of hard work”

“Yeah, we all know that hard work” Sebastian whispered in your ear earning a glare from Mr Megelbach who handed you a couple of catalogues from that artist and the invitation.

“So, put on hold your current article for today, make a plan with this train wreck and please make sure he doesn’t show up dressed like that”

“That was unneeded”

“All precautions are always needed with you, and now get out of my office the both of you”

You nodded moving out of the office, you were a bit anxious. Those artists were unpredictable just as Sebastian.

You made your way back to your desk with him as you sat down looking at the invitation. “So, it begins at 9 pm” you said almost understanding why Sebastian shouldn’t be allowed to go unescorted because the invitation on the dress code had: Wear something that talks about your soul. Only that could bring Sebastian to have an aneurism.

“I hate that bitch”

“Seb, that’s not a good start for an article”

He smirked as you said so but shrugged

“I mean it, this woman was born into privilege, she portrayed herself to be this underground rebel, but her simple black dress was a Chanel and her everyday boot Balenciaga, so I don’t trust her for a reason”

You smirked as you could agree with that and showed him the two catalogues the boss gave you

“Choose your fighter”

He groaned so loud he could have stabbed his toe and he leaned over his side of the desk picking one from your hand giving a light pinch on your side “teacher’s pet”. You chuckled softly as he always said that.

“Tell me if you read something that it is not about the performer’s way of life” he mumbled opening it in front of him.

You begun your reading and it was indeed the hell pit of a vey spoiled kid who was told to be the greatest since the first day of life, you picked your notebook and opened it taking notes on things that you could ask about.

Sebastian in the meanwhile lighted up another cigarette rolling it between his fingers mindlessly, his eyes looking above the paper at you every now and then among the little curses in German about the stupid things written there.

After some time it was becoming really a torture to read and you leaned your back on your chair stretching your legs forward for Seb to catch one of them among his.

You smirked as you often joked to him he was like some bear trap with those legs always catching yours.

He put his hand under the table bringing your leg up onto his thigh as you shifted even lower on your seat, his hand touching your ankle mindlessly as he had a talent for little massages like that. He did it the first time a while aback, a summer day where it was so hot and humid that you couldn’t feel your own legs.

So it became a little ritual among the two of you. You had many of those rituals, it was like an unspoken collection of attentions. Like you making the coffee in the morning because he was a grumpy ass. Or him always buying you some chewing gum or little treat when he went to buy cigarettes.

“I guess I am not the only one that needs a restyle”

He said bringing you away by the tenderness those little actions brought to you when he pushed his finger in your Vans shoe deepening a hole that you were trying to ignore from months.

“Seb, don’t do it, I wanted to make them last another season”

“Another season? These can’t last the end of the month, no doubt why your sex life is a train wreck”

You frowned at him taking your ankle off his hand to push on his chair making him roll back thanks to the little wheels underneath it, but he held on the desk and pulled himself closer again.

“What do you even know about it”

He looked at you, eyebrows raising up on his forehead

“Y/N, if I was your boyfriend I wouldn’t allow you to leave the bed that early in the morning to go to the office and that’s a fact”

“Oh, and how on heaven could you detain my passion for this job?” “Well, I can write you a list about it, you can consider it a to do list on your next date” His smirk was so wide, he enjoyed to tease you like that, the bastard, he knew to be an hottie and he always acted like half of the world was up to fuck with him.

“Oh please, do it, I want to see”

You teased him and he leaned in elbows on the table staring at you.

Oh the sexual tension with him was too much, you always went down on this hurricane of remarks, always him mentioning how you need more orgasms or implying it, or even implying how good he is at giving them.

“But be careful, because any act should be performed and not only lived”

You said quoting the artist you were reading about and he whined so hard like you really stomped your foot on his balls.

“Horrid witch”

“Me?” “No, that one”

He huffed and puffed picking another cigarette. Sometimes cigarettes just died on his fingers as he forgot to actually enjoy them more than waving them around.

The artist herself wasn’t remarkable, she used themes seen over and over before, she had a background as performer/dancer and she added painting to that, but more than talent she had an amazing marketing squad. You read her story and her commentaries about living like in a poem, which always sounds pretty easy with a big bank account.

You did all you could to stay neutral even if Seb was going down to massacre the woman, you two shared a bundle of two sandwiches (or better say, your brought a package of two and he was skipping his lunch so you just handed it to him) until you decided to get parted and go get ready at home.

That evening you were waiting for him in front of your apartment, when a taxi stopped in front of you and his figure appeared waving at you to come in on the back. His eyes widened in surprise “Well, well, well, look who got all fancy here”

He smirked as his eyes travelled on you shamelessly, the dress was actually one of those you brought ages ago and never used, also to wear heels felt like new, last time you went to a fancy event almost hard to recollect.

“Just move and let me in”

You said chuckling as you looked at him being so elegant when you noticed it, the price tag on his shirt.

“Seb, did you just buy this shirt?”

“Yes, and I am going to take it back tomorrow”

You looked at him puzzled

“What?” He groaned “I suck at ironing stuff”

You looked at him as a little laugh escaped your lips as he told you not to, but it was too late for that, you shifted closer to him anyway helping him to hide that price tag better behind his neck. Nevertheless the white shirt was really fancy and fitted him perfectly.

As you arrived in front of the gallery you sighed and made your way inside.

The place wasn’t crowded but few eyes turned as you got in.

“Would you like some champagne?” A waiter asked and Seb picked two flutes immediately downing one in a gulp on his own as the other was still in his other hand, he put the empty glass on the tray and then picked a third one handing it to you.

“Drink Y/N or you won’t make it to the end of the evening”

You smirked as he was always over dramatic, but indeed the evening seemed to be made for posh people to show off how cool they are.

You spotted the artist pretty quickly wearing a Valentino bright red dress, she surely had the dancer figure and gestures which gave her some kind of an edge.

"She is all yours"

You looked at Sebastian already half way through his drink, giving you that cheshire cat smirk.

"Are you sure?"

"You know I will insult her in a second if she names her dancing background one more time, I saw the videos, she looked like a three ready to collapse on the ground" he chuckled as you smirked shaking your head at his metaphor, but he is probably right, he is too much biased.

"I didn't notice the open back before" he said referring to your dress as he caressed over your skin with his fingertips making goosebumps raise up your spine.

"What? Am I too sexy for your own good?"

"Probably" he commented not losing a beat to answer you. You were taken aback from a moment, his eyes still down on his hand touching your back before raising up to find yours.

Then he took his hand away and pressed the cold champagne glass against it making you hiss "Now go, I'll check this bourgeois art"

You frowned but you just moved away from him. He always did it, he teased you and then made it a joke. You gave it back to him too, it was your relationship, that's how you balanced it.

"Good evening " you said to her with a smile holding your glass in your left hand before offering your right hand to her "I am Y/N, from the Art Tribune"

She went from neutral to smiling in a second

"Oh, I was waiting to meet you" she said leaning to kiss your cheek, surely she was a woman with charm, with a degree of boldness that made her charming and also, you noticed, extremely touchy-feely with everyone.

"We can define this a sort of retrospective of your previous works, I liked to see the evolution of it" you lied, because you just saw the catalogue.

But that was fair enough to have her go on about her, guess what? Past as a dancer, about how she needed to express herself, how she was her own muse and all the stuff you already read.

"What is next for you then?"

"I want to follow my dream, I have always wanted to found a space with my name where people could rent the rooms to perform dances and arts"

You stared at her. For real? Like there weren't other hundreds in the whole city?

"What will keep you apart from all the others that did this before you?"

"Nobody is me" she smirked like it was clear and obvious.

You asked few more questions, but you were sad to admit Sebastian was right. There wasn't art there, there was just profit, selling a name, a brand.

This saddened you because you met many artists that had less than a chance to make it but double the talent of Miss Valentino Dress.

"Y/N" Sebastian warm hand was on your back as you were downing the last bit of champagne "Come, come ,come quick" he said pushing you away as the artist clearly recognised him but he dismissed her with some insult or whatever he just mumbled.

"Seb, I was working, what the hell?"

"Elke is here"

You still didn't understand, you were puzzled as the reason of that anxiety was still unknown to you.

"Like your girlfriend Elke?"

"Put an ex in front of it" he said looking around frantically

"Oh, I am sorry, I didn't know"

"No, me neither, I thought she was just bashing around, she always did" his arm sneaked around your waist pulling you closer "please, act sexy for once"

You were one second from hitting his guts with your elbow when Elke herself approached.

"Oh, I didn't expect to see you here" she said waving her glass around

"Yeah, well I work for an important Art journal if you remember"

"How could I forget?" she groaned looking at you then as Sebastian's hand rested onto your hip. Really? Was he acting like you were his date?

"Hi, I am Y/N"

You said politely to her and she chuckled "Run when you can, this man is a leech and you don't even know it"

She mentioned it almost casually, but you could feel all the poison implied on your skin, Sebastian's hand giving you a soft squeeze, you had never seen him like this before. He looked like a dog that just got kicked, his back hunched over you lightly both trying to protect you and for protection.

"Well, thank you for your advice, I must be a real torment too because we actually have lot of fun together, I like his unpredictability"

You said it from your heart, you didn't want to insult her or anything, but you felt bad for him. Even if he probably deserved it, to be humiliated like this must be hard in any circumstance, in particular in a place where he is supposed to work and being known.

He looked at you a bit surprised, he leaned slowly pressing a kiss on your temple and you smiled because of that gesture so enveloped in that feeling of tenderness.

"Your shot" Elke said clearly a bit annoyed that you as she just moved along followed by a man that must be her date.

"Lets go out"

You suggested as Seb nodded and just followed for once, he held your hand as you guided him and for once he wasn't talking or commenting anything.

As you went out he sat down on the sidewalk pulling out his package of cigarettes taking out one immediately.

"Hey stand up" you said to him as he looked up at you and you snatched that cigarette off his lips "let's go away"

"Where? Don't we have to stay until she gets naked to dance?"

You smirked "No, we have all the material we need"

You took his cigarette away offering him your hand as he picked it and you guided him.

He was silent, which is rare, when he was silent it meant he was upset in some way, he always had a nice comeback line for everything usually.

His head leaned on side like a scolded child as he slowly laced your fingers together.

You walked across few streets, your heels clicking on the cement until you made it to your final location pulling him inside.

"Constatinopole?"

Seb asked looking at the sign, it was a kebab place, your favourite by the way.

"I am hungry" you just said making him lower his head and smile like a kid with cue breathy chuckles.

You ordered for the two of you as he went to sat down putting another cigarette between his lips when the man behind the counter glared at him and he just put it back in the package.

He sat down slouching as you did some small talks with the guys there, you clearly knew them. The soft music from the radio holding the place into a sort of magical aura as his eyes travelled over your naked back once more, the need for a cigarette becoming even more urgent.

You two dressed so elegantly really were so noticeable in the bright lightend place, he smiled to himself thinking it could be a nice painting by Hopper.

You came back offering him his kebab with a soft drink, very thoughtful because he was indeed already a bit high on champagne.

You ate quietly together, it wasn't uncomfortable, your silences were happening often at work and always filled with a sense of common understanding, you leaned your leg up like you always did at the office and rested it on his thigh as you sat sideways beside him. His hand flying naturally on your ankle to give his usual massage, his thumb tracing your skin with imaginary patterns as his other hand held the kebab close to his mouth.

The speaker at the radio announcing next song as Rocket Man by Elton John filled the room with a melancholic vibe. You couldn't help but think the song suited perfectly Sebastian, his being out of this word, out of control.

"Thank you" he said at some point as he tried his best not to ruin his shirt, you looked up at him as he was staring, his eyes telling you something on their own "You have been the best girlfriend I have ever had"

He added with a bitter smile diverting once more his gaze, you smiled back at him, he looked so resigned. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you have never seen him so fragile before.

"I could be"

His eyes darted up to you, his surprise evident as he put down the kebab, the soothing voice of the British singer still giving a dream edge to the moment as he moved closer. You slowly shifted your leg to give him room of movement as his right arm sneaked to rest on the back of your chair closing the space between the two of you.

His lips tasted still a bit of champagne as he pressed them against yours, you kissed him back slowly as his left hand travelled on your thigh pulling you closer to him probably staining your dress because of his greasy hand.

He pulled back almost immediately before leaning onto you again titling his head on the other side. This second time the kiss was more deep, more intense. Your hands slowly cradling his face before pulling back yourself.

He smiled against your lips and you smiled back.

Maybe tomorrow you will regret it like Elke said, maybe not.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief@thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved@fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44@apparrio @hb8301@whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl@obsidianlaszlo@alindeluce@zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahlingLet me know if you want to get tagged to my publications too <3

#sebastian zöllner x you #sebastian zollner x reader #sebastian zöllner headcanon #sebastian zöllner x reader #sebastian zollner #sebastian zöllner x y/n #sebastian zöllner #sebastian zollner x y/n

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purplefrogg · 3 years

Text

happy birthday tommy

summary: just birthday traditions with tommy tubbo and ranboo

a/n: first fic enjoy‼️

tommy was finally 17. all day he had been going around, telling everyone it was his birthday, and how he was an even bigger man now.

most of them just laughed along with him, wishing him a happy birthday. punz and sapnap challenged him, saying if he was really a big man, he should fight them in a 1v1. jokingly of course, tommy agreed before calling them both bitches and walking away.

his next stop was snowchester, where his best friends tubbo and ranboo lived. they both knew it was his birthday of course, but he still wanted to go visit. just to make sure they remembered.

they did. they also remembered the tradition of “birthday tickles” tommy had started when they were kids, and never remembered come time of his birthday. they thought it was funny, it was like a little surprise gift he got every single year. tommy was extremely ticklish, but very few people knew about it. at least that’s what he liked to think. truth was most people knew, as it was pretty obvious. he always flinched at the slightest of touch, even if it was nowhere near any of his weak spots.

after following the path tubbo had created, tommy walked up to tubbos house, practically kicking the door in.

“GUYYYYS THE BIG MAN HAS ARRIVED,” he shouted, scaring both ranboo and tubbo, who weren’t ready for him to burst in the way he just had.

“hey big man! happy birthday!” tubbo said, walking over and hugging his friend. tommy looked down at the smaller boy.

“happy birthday tommy,” ranboo said, his usual monotone voice, sounding a bit more joyful than usual.

“thanks guys! i am a big man now did you know? i’m 17 which means i can get married and have a wife now,” tommy said, prompting a small laugh from the two.

“let’s go do something! everyone else here is boring, they all told me to go away after a while but i know you guys are ma friendsss. you guys will hang out with me right?”

they both looked at each other knowingly, before looking back at tommy and nodding. tommy smiled and walked out of their house, starting to walk away. he did this a lot, just left without saying anything, expecting them to follow him and know where he wanted to go. tubbo and ranboo both followed, walking behind tommy and following him around.

he didn’t actually go anywhere, he just walked around snowchester, messing with different things and exploring the mansion.

they spent the rest of the day walking around, tommy talking to everyone, tubbo and ranboo following not far behind.

when tommy had enough, they ended up going back to tubbos house to hang out just the three of them. they didn’t get to many chill days, considering the other people around them. luckily since dream had been put in prison it had been easier, but still difficult since they all had other things they were working on.

they had visited michael, and were now downstairs in the main part of the house, talking to each other about random things.

“so tommy, how was your birthday?” tubbo asked. before tommy could answer, ranboo butted in.

“well the days not over yet,” ranboo said, looking in between the other two. tubbo nodded his head.

“ohhh yeahhhh.”

“what?” tommy asked, a confused look plastered on the boys face.

“did you seriously forget? again?” tubbo asked.

“you’re worse than me!” ranboo laughed. a look of realization, made its way to tommys face, and he started to slowly move away from the two of them, trying to negotiate his way out of this.

“guhuys come on. arent wehe a little old to continue this silly little tradition?”

“we weren’t too old on my birthday,” tubbo said back, walking towards tommy. ranboo did the same, trailing only a few inches behind tubbo.

“or mine.”

“yeheah but that’s different!” tommy said. he would never admit it to them, but he secretly enjoyed when they did this.

“no it’s really not, ranboo can you grab him before he runs.”

and with that ranboo grabbed tommy by the arms, holding them above his head as he continued to giggle.

“guhuys plehease.”

tubbo poked at his side, soliciting a small shriek from the blonde boy. tommy tried to get away, twisting and squirming in any direction he could, but he was trapped.

“hmmm, ranboo where should i go first?” tubbo spoke, a playful tone taking over his normal, calm one.

“i don’t know, maybe here,” ranboo said, poking at tommys underarms. tommy tried to pull his arms down, but ranboos grip was too strong.

“nohoho tubbo, guhuys really i mean do we need to doho thHIS-“ tommy was cut off by tubbo starting to wiggle his fingers in his underarms. tommys giggles became louder, and he started to squirm a lot more.

“fuhuck yohou!”

“that’s not very nice!” tubbo said, changing his pace, now drilling his fingers into the boys underarms, and moving them up and down to just above his rib cage.

“TUHUBOHO” tommy yelled, his giggles turning into laughter as tubbo continued this for a few minutes. tommy ended up sliding down to the floor, unable to stand any longer. this made things easier for tubbo and ranboo though.

“ranboo would you like a turn?” tubbo said, as he slowed down, now just lightly running his fingers along tommys sides. tommy fell back into soft giggles again at the change in pace.

“sure,” ranboo said, switching places with tubbo, who was now holding tommys arms above his head.

ranboo started right where tubbo left off, slowly running his finger up and down tommys sides.

“rahanboo plehease,” tommy whined. ranboo chuckled to himself before speaking.

“you see tommy normally i would listen to you, but you haven’t told us to stop once! you must be really having fun right now,” ranboo teased.

“shut the fuhuck uhup. noho im nohot,” tommy replied. of course he was, but once again he’d never admit that outloud.

“mhm, sure, then why haven’t you told us to stop?” tommy tried to think of an answer but before he could he was cut off again. “exactly.”

before anythjng else could be done, ranboo began squeezing at tommys sides and tubbo starting to wiggle his fingers at tommys underarms again.

tommy immediately broke out into a fit of laughter.

“GUHAHUYS PLEHEHEASE! I HAHATE YOHOU!” tommy shouted. tubbo and ranboo started to laugh along, amused at the boys reactions. every year they did this, and every year tommys reactions just got better.

ranboo switched from squeezing at his sides, to scratching at his belly, which provoked an even bigger reaction.

tommy was now thrashing around on the floor, “trying” to escape the feeling. his laughter had gone horse, and he was still trying to get his arms down.

sensing that he had nearly reached his limit, tubbo and ranboo slowed down. tubbo just tracing shapes along the boys collar bones, and ranboo starting to run his fingers up and down his sides again.

tommy calmed down, his laughter calming back down to giggles. eventually the two stopped, allowing tommy to fully catch his breath. they watched as he rolled over onto his side, curling up a bit looking at the two of them.

“you guys are dicks,” he said, once he had finally caught his breath.

“you love us,” tubbo said, smiling and poking tommys leg. tommy shot him a funny look, before looking at ranboo.

“this guy,” he said pointing at tubbo, prompting a small laugh from ranboo.

for the rest of the night until they eventually fell asleep, the three of them spent their time talking and laughing, having fun like the kids they really were.

#lee!tommyinnit #ler!tubbo #ler!ranboo #tickle fic

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junkercrush · 3 years

Note

Could we possibly get a Jester!Junkrat x Fem!Maid!Reader story where its been a long day of hard work in the castle for reader and junkrat comes to put a spring back in her step with some funny routines

Thanks for the request, Anon!

Finally, I put something together (it’s been so long >.<).

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Your Lovely Smile by junkercrush

Pairing: Fool Rat x Maid Reader

Rating: SFW

Words: 1,693

You had mixed feelings about the King’s jubilee: the glorious times and the disastrous aftermath you and the other servants had to clean up.

“Get up, wenches!” Your overseer Gabrielle yelled as you rolled over on your bed. The other maids in the crowded maids’ sleeping quarters groaned. A cock crowed right outside your window.

Gabrielle muttered something about the Devil under her breath. She abruptly smacked the cold stone wall with her rolling pin. You jolted out of bed in an instance.

“GET UP!” Gabrielle roared. She stomped over to a sleeping girl’s bed and pulled the poor girl out of the bed by her hair. The girl yelped as her body hit the floor.

“We have a long day ahead of us!” Gabrielle announced. “I want you all to start cleaning the entire castle.”

You cleared your throat, catching Gabrielle’s attention. She grabbed an empty mop bucket from the corner of the room and shoved it into your hands.

“You, Y/N, I want you to start scrubbing the floors at the grand dining hall!”

Perfect, that was the worst place to start. You’d rather shovel horse manure all day at the royal stables. You remembered how much of a mess it was last night. The knights and nobles were spilling wine and food on the floor. With anybody not realizing it, some guests were making love under the tables. Those damn nobles with their purchased whores. How did the King allow it? Oh yes, he was too drunk on spiced wine to even care.

You cringed at the thought of the mess you had to clean up from the lovers. Hopefully, they had the decency to take their used lambskin condoms with them.

“What about our breakfast?” An older woman asked in the far back of the quarters. She stood on top of her bed with her arms on her hips. Her grey hair was covering her face.

Gabrielle’s face softened. She sighs and tucked some of her curly honey blonde hair behind her ear.

“Steal some food from the kitchen.” She suggested with a wink. “Hurry before the kitchen staff stirs.”

All the maids in the room, including you, hurried to fix their beds and get dressed. You were the first to escape the bed chambers with your bucket. A random servant was sleeping shirtless on the floor. You leaped over him, noticing a sleeping hen on top of his bed. He must’ve had a wild night.

You remembered the honey-glazed bread and large pieces of ham from last night. Pray be there were still some leftovers. You snuck into the kitchen and found a serving platter of your favorite food on a wooden table. A half-naked chef slept underneath.

Quietly, you dumped the food into your bucket and hurried out of the kitchen before the other maids had a chance to steal a meal. You giggled as you heard a man yelling and females screaming. Looks like one of the chefs has caught your maid companions.

*~*~*~*

The floors were much more terrible than you imagined. There was splattered food, spilled wine, mud, and…bloodstains? You don’t remember any battles occurring in the dining hall. No matter, you had to clean it all up. Good thing you had a belly full of food to keep you energized.

You kneeled to the stone floor and started scrubbing. Your nose flared as the foul stench of vomit hit your senses. Immediately, you shot up from the floor, covering your nose.

“By the heavens!” You gasped. You had to take a moment before resuming cleanup.

Why were you the only one assigned to the grand dining hall? Did Gabrielle expect you to split into 10 people and get it all done by sunset? You hoped to God more servants will arrive soon to offer aid.

A pair of marching troops dashed through the dining hall. You glared at them as they made more of a mess of the floor with their muddied boots.

“How did he lose it?” One guard asked the other. “I swear I saw him sleeping with it.”

“No clue.” The other guard replied. “If we don’t find his scepter before the end of the day, he’ll have all of your heads!”

The guards glanced at you before they disappeared from the hall.

The scepter? The King’s scepter? Missing? Who had the courage to steal it?

You scrubbed the floor harder as more guards passed through the dining hall.

“Watch the wet floor!” You warned one of them. They only sneered at you and moved on. You cursed under your breath and soaked your rag in the bucket. You earnestly hoped Gabrielle will send more maids your way soon.

“Need a hand, m’lady?”

You looked up, eyes brightened with hope, only to meet a familiar jester looking down at you with a mischievous grin. The sight of the heavily face-painted man made you fly backward, knocking over your only bucket of water.

“Jamison!” You yelped.

Jamison, the royal jester, laughed. He performed a little dance around you, sticking out his tongue. The bells attached to his wild blue hair jingled.

“I remember seeing you ‘round these parts last night.” He spoke. “Couldn’t keep me eyes off of you.”

You stood up, blushing, smoothing your soiled dress. You remembered serving the King’s guests while Jamison was busily humoring the King. Every moment the King laughed, Jamison turned to you, making sure you were watching him. You tried hard to stay focused that night.

“What do you want?” You asked. Jamison cackled.

“I got a gift for you.”

Jamison reached into his pants. You gasped and turned around.

“Jamison, this is no time for saucy jokes!”

“My dear, just look at this big beauty.”

You peeked behind your fingers.

“Jamison,” You gulped. The jester had the golden, jewel-encrusted scepter belonging to the King.

“You like?” Jamison wondered, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Take it back!” You ordered.

“Why?”

“The King will execute you if he catches you with it. You know how he is about his royal possessions, whether it be his countless mistresses or the crown!”

“Please,” Jamison scoffed. “The King and I are good friends. He wouldn’t kill me. What do you think he does with this thing? Turn his enemies into frogs? Stick it up his—”

Jamison pretended like he was going to insert the bejeweled end of the scepter into his bottom. You snorted with laughter. Jamison’s face lightened up.

“That’s want I wanted to see.”

You stared at him, puzzled. “What?”

A thunder of footsteps was approaching the dining hall.

“The guards!” You squeaked.

Jamison quickly stuffed the scepter into his pants. You didn’t know how he was doing it without anybody seeing his noticeable bugle.

“Maid,” A guard approached you; two more stood behind him. “The King is missing his royal scepter. Have you seen it?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, m’lord.”

The guard turned to Jamison. “What about you, jester?”

Jamison only grinned. “Not since last night, my friend.”

The guard glanced between the two of you long and hard. You coughed, and the guard stepped closer to you.

“Where were you last night?” He asked.

You swallowed nervously. Beads of sweat began to form on your forehead. In your mind, you only wished the guard would go away so you can resume cleaning and chat with Jamison.

“I was serving guests.” You answered.

“You haven’t seen anything suspicious?”

Jamison stepped behind the guards and pulled out the scepter. He twirled it around their hands like it was nothing. You tried hard not t to let laughter escape from you.

“N-no,” Your voice quaked.

Jamison placed the scepter at his crotch, pretending he was about to impale the guardsmen’s behinds with it. You covered your mouth and disguised your laughs with a horrendous bout of coughs. The guardsmen stepped back.

“Dear Lord, do you have the plague?” One frightened guard asked.

Jamison finally stuffed the scepter back into his pants.

“No, my lord.” You replied with a sweet smile. “All is well.”

A frantic guard rushed into the dining hall, sword out and ready for battle.

“We found the thief!” The prepared guard panted. “He’s trying to escape the premises with one of the king’s stolen horses!”

The other guards pulled out their swords.

“Alert the archers!” The lead guard ordered. “We can’t let him escape!”

You and Jamison waited for the guardsmen to leave before bursting out into fits of giggles. You playfully smacked Jamison’s exposed torso with your cleaning rag.

“How dare you attempt to make me laugh in front of the royal guard?” You spouted. “You and your vulgar phallus tricks!”

Jamison sat on the steps in front of the King’s dining table. He pulled out the scepter again, tossing it between his hands.

“But I did make you smile,” Jamison recalled with a toothy grin. “That’s what I wanted.”

You rolled your eyes and picked up your empty bucket.

“I better fetch more water.” You murmured.

“Hold it!” Jamison stopped you in your tracks. He flipped you around to face him. You forgot how freakishly tall he was up close compared to your small stature.

“Promise me you’ll share your lovely smile with me.” Jamison continued. He pressed the scepter against the side of your face, making circles with the tip caressing your face. “And only for me. Understood?”

Blood rushed to your cheeks again.

“U-understood.” You shivered at the scepter’s cold touch.

“Good!”

Jamison threw the scepter into the air, did a stunning triple backflip, and caught the staff before it hit the ground. You dropped your bucket and applauded him. Jamison bowed.

“Thank you, my sweet.” Jamison placed the scepter back into his pants. “Better return the king’s funny stick before he sets this entire kingdom on fire!”

Jamison blew a kiss at you and skipped out of the dining hall, giggling. You stood in place with a silly smile on your face until you could no longer hear Jamison’s jingling bells. Finally, it was time to get back to work before Gabrielle catches you slacking off.

Thanks to that jester, your entire day was already made.

THE END

#fool rat x reader #junkrat x reader #masterlist #stories #junkrat #jamison fawkes #jester rat x reader #jester rat #overwatch fic

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joa-quin-phoe-nix-fan · 4 years

Text

I AM ALIVE Charlie Sisters FF/imagine

I AM ALIVE

You had begun to worry. Charlie had been gone for 6 months, with only 7 letters even giving you any proof that he was still alive. You sat near your window, in the open prairie, worrying away like you did every day, thinking about how he could be dead, he could be lost, he could be kidnapped by one of his targets, he might not see his baby be born. You rubbed your belly sadly, the time was drawing close, and you really wanted your baby to see its daddy. More than anything you wanted Charlie to see his baby. You couldn’t imagine life without Charlie, who would take you hunting every Sunday that he was home? Who would make you the best baked beans in the entire west coast? Who would make funny, rhyming names for things like a Mean-Bean or a Dorsie-Horsie? Who would help you with the baby? Who would love you like Charlie did? You sat there silently, wracking your mind of reasons why he hadn’t written in 2 months. All of them more worrying than the last, when you heard a knock at the door.

You jumped up as fast as you could in your condition, rushing to the door, hoping and praying to see Charlie’s smug face looking back at you, holding the money he earned from the Commodore, ready to sweep you off your feet, covering your face with kisses. Sadly, it wasn’t him. It was Rex, a colleague of Charlie’s that you knew to avoid most of the time, Charlie said he was a sleaze who took married women away from their husbands while they were away. Normally, when he came over, you could almost smell the desire coming from him, but this time he looked genuinely concerned, his eyebrows furrowed close together. “Hey there, um...Missus Y/N. Hav-have ya heard from Charlie recently?” you moved closer to the doorframe, hoping it was one of his womanizing schemes “Uh...no Rex, I haven’t.” You started to panic, “Why do ya ask? Did somethin’ happen to Charlie? Oh Lord please tell me this is just another plot of yers!” Rex waved his hands in front of him, defensively, “Woah, woah YN, please don’t get ya bloomers in a bunch! The commodore has just been askin’ ‘cus he ain’t heard from him in a while...and the last thing we recieved from him was this...” he handed you a leaf, and your heart jumped you knew that even if he ran out of paper, he was known to send leaves with letters written on them. You turned it over and gasped. On the other side of the leaf was written, in now dried blood; ‘I AM ALIVE” Rex sighed and held your shoulder gently, “and I promise ya darlin’ this ain’t no plot...we’re all worried about him, and by association, you.” Your stomach dropped. This was the worst situation you could’ve imagined for Charlie, him MIA in the dangerous wilderness, after some bloodthirsty criminal, with the last message from him being vague and written in blood. You breathed in sharply to hold in the tears, “I-I ain’t heard nothin’ from him, Rex...I’m sorry.” Rex sighed sadly and shook his head, “I’m the one who should be sayin’ that to you, Missus...I’m real sorry...” he bowed slightly, tipped his hat, and left. Looking sadder than a dog left out in the rain.

You closed the door, putting your back against it when it had shut. Tears filling up your eyes as you held you hand up to your mouth in shock and slid down slowly to the floor, the weight of that news hitting you like a ton of bricks. It was one thing for him to not update you on what was happening, but he never forgot to message the Commodore. Where was he? Maybe he was too far to send letters...yeah maybe that was it. He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be.

You woke up much later, still by the door, your eyes still stinging from crying yourself to sleep. It was dark out already. You grabbed the nearby stairwell railing to pull yourself up. You knew that the cows sure as hell were not gonna be pleased with how late you were but it’d be better if you milked them tonight, rather than have a cow-riot tomorrow morning. After you heaved yourself up again, you grabbed your gun, your bucket and a lantern, you walked outside, ready to vent to the cows about your day. It was a rather silly habit, but a habit that was strangely therapeutic and one that despite you being rather upset, seemed to calm the cows down...maybe they just liked hearing you talk.

As you walked to the cows, you saw what you assumed was a figure riding a couple acres away. You took no notice, thinking it was a lonesome hunter going back home after a long hunt. It was only after the first three cows that you realized that the sound of hooves hitting the dusty ground had gotten much closer. ‘It’s someone looking for Charlie!’ you thought as you jumped behind a bunch of hay bales, cocking your gun before they got close enough to hear you do it. You had no idea how much time had passed by the time you heard the hooves stop by the stables, the rider jump down, and hitch up his horse. ‘Why would a killer or a robber do that?’ you wondered to yourself, with your finger drifting off of the trigger as an impossible thought passed through your head, ‘is that Charlie?’

You heard him walk slowly and tiredly up on the porch, shuffling his feet as if removing them from the porch would mean that he would instantly tumble over. If this was Charlie, you had never seen him this tired and sad before. Then you suddenly heard the man drop to his knees, at this point you thought it wouldn’t hurt to just peek at the man, you looked up, seeing a man with significantly longer hair and a smaller build than Charlie, kissing your porch! At this point you knew for a fact that it wasn’t your husband so you jumped up, grabbing your gun and aimed it at the man as you quickly walked towards him. “You best be getting off ma porch! My husband’s a bounty hunter and if he were here, he’d kill you quicker than I gaddamned will!” You knew it was a bad idea to tell this stranger that you were home alone but because he looked so small and sickly, you knew you could hold your own in a fight against him. The man crawled back, his hands in front of his head, shaking like a leaf in a tornado. “please...listen to me. I ain’t who ya think i am...” he whispered, hoarsely. Even with the hoarseness, you knew that voice as if it was your own. You dropped the gun, running close to him and cupping your hands around his angular face, “Charlie? Oh my god, is that really you, honey?” Charlie nodded weakly, tears now running down his face like a waterfall. “yeah, it’s me darlin’...”

After a long moment of hugging each other and crying, you brought Charlie into the house, sure that he was cold and hungry. As he sat in his armchair, you truly saw the difference, the crease where the top of his head usually ended was miles above the small, unshaven man sitting in the chair. He looed like a tiny scared puppy in a doghouse built for a doberman. It would almost be hilarious if the situation wasn’t so serious. After giving him some bread, butter and chicken, that he scarfed down, almost choking as he did it, you started talking with him.

“W-where have ya been? I was worried sick...” you asked, hugging yourself and barely being able to even look at him in this situation, suddenly you remembered, reached into your pocket and pulled out the leaf letter and handed it to him, sitting down next to the chair, “and what...what is this?” he held the leaf weakly and sighed, defeated “I...was robbed...” he sighed, his voice only slightly less hoarse now, “My horse, my gun, my money, my paper and pens, my food, everything.” He stared off to space as he told his tale. “I barely begged hard enough to keep my clothes and the tiny shreds of my dignity that I had left. So I had to walk or crawl my way home. I ate wild animals and random leaves and berries I found. I got myself poisoned that way twice. I never took you out of my mind. When a man on a horse came past me and offered his help in exchange for my shoes, I didn’t ask for his horse, I simply asked him to send a letter to Oregon for me. That was the leaf. After he left me I realized my mistake and i kicked myself right there, but much further on I saw a horse lying on the ground, it honest to god looked dead. But it weren’t. I fed it half of the food I had scavenged and somehow it survived the last month of the journey. That’s the horse that’s outside, could ya maybe feed him? I named him Savior. He really helped me when I was at my worst.” This story was terribly sad, it rocked you to your core that he had gone through this all this time while you were at home, moping about how lonely you were. “I’m so sorry...if I had known I-” Charlie shushed you gently, stroking your hair, “You had no way of knowin’...I’m just glad you’re safe and alive, and that the baby hasn’t been born yet.” You giggled. Despite how sad the situation was, you were incredibly grateful that he was home and you loved how he could easily make a morbid situation even slightly humorous.

He stood up slowly, pulling you up at the same time. Once you were both standing fully (which took a while) he held you close to his chest. Despite him being much skinnier, he still stood quite a bit taller than you, he held your head up to his heart, it sounded much stronger and healthier than you expected. “It’s so loud...” you whispered to him, he chuckled lightly “It’s singing to you, ‘cause it knows you’re here...”

sorry if the ending is kind of short XD I still have no idea how to end stories correctly lol

#charlie sisters #charlie sisters x reader #joaquin phoenix imagine #joaquin phoenix #joaquin phoenix charlie sisters

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marvel-redemption-omega · 4 years

Text

Of Outlaws and Family

Chapter Five: Rodeo Queen, Awakened

A/N: This is nothing but a random mission I decided might be fun; a way Scarlet can show Dutch that she can help bring in money, even if it seems silly to him. Just some general fluff and good times with Scarlet, her son, James, and some great fluff between Scarlet and Arthur! Buckle up cause it’s a loooooooong chapter! There’s lots of stuff goin on in this one.

Warnings: Cursing, typical gang violence, mentions of drinking, sexual references/innuendos, general dangers of rodeos (bull riding, bronco riding, etc), mentions of pick-pocketing, betting, mentions of bush whacking

Start here: https://marvel-redemption-omega.tumblr.com/post/620167374619951104/of-outlaws-and-family-chapter-one-new-beginnings

Last Chapter: https://marvel-redemption-omega.tumblr.com/post/620331349279145984/of-outlaws-and-family

Please enjoy! Hearts and repubs are appreciated!

My work is not to be posted elsewhere; I will post it to my AO3 and dA if I so choose.

Word Count: 14, 837

“Dutch!” Scarlet jumps off Shamrock and runs into camp with a piece of paper in her hand. Dutch steps out of his tent, cigar in hand as he raises a brow at her. “Dutch, oh, Dutch! You gotta see this!” She slows as she nearly runs into him, his free hand on her shoulder to steady her. He nods to the paper.

“What’s got you so excited? Find a treasure map?”

“What? Nah, something even better!” She shakes her head at his silly question. “No. Rhodes is hosting a rodeo!” She squeals, opening the folded paper, revealing a flyer for a rodeo.

“Darlin’, not to be a downer, but I just ain’t seeing why you think going to this is a good idea. Hosea and I are wanted men, we can’t just drop everything we’re working on to play rancher in front of people,” he scans the paper, taking it from her. Her happy demeanor deflates a bit before she’s smiling again.

“I get that. Look, I’m not sayin that ya gotta come out and be there, but there’s loads of opportunity for money! There’s cash prizes for fastest horse in a few categories, then there’s prizes for perfect scores, and even longest rides. At least for the bronco and bull ridin events it’s the longest time,” she quickly explains, trying to reason with the stubborn leader. He wipes a hand over his mustache, glancing between Scarlet’s puppy pleading green eyes and the flyer in his hand. He sighs.

“Stop with that kicked puppy look,” he reads over the flyer again.

“Dutch,” she calls, waiting for him to look back at her. When he does she smiles, “I know I can win several of the listed events. I’ve been ridin nearly my whole life. Bulls ain’t so different from broncs, just a bit wider and not as tall. I promise it’s worth it. Just let me go and enter an send your best pick pockets with me. There’s always loads of people at rodeos. Loads of rich, stupid, drunk people,” she persuades, watching his body language for signs of defeat. When he relaxes his shoulders she knows she’s won.

“Talk to the guys and see if anyone would be interested in any of the other events,” Dutch orders, holding up the flyer. “Mind if I have this to look over?”

“No, no, not at all! Take it, Dutch. I’m gonna go ask them now. Oh. Is, uhh, is Arthur here?” She asks, the excitement now drained from her voice. Dutch’s lips quirk a bit, knowing they were sweet on each other, even if they hadn’t noticed it themselves yet.

“No, Pearson asked if he could go hunting. We’re getting low on food,” he answers with a smile, pointing towards the back of the camp.

Scarlet takes his leave as dismissal and heads over to the cliff, looking into the valley below. Sure enough, Arthur’s got his bow out, creeping up on a small herd of deer. She scoffs as he draws the string back and lets it go. He quickly notches another arrow and manages to drop two deer back to back. “Show off,” she mutters to herself.

Scarlet’s in the middle of switching saddles and horses when James runs up to her, arms wrapping tight around her legs. “Mama! Can I go to the rodeo with you too? Please? I wanna see you ride the horses and a bull!” He begs, green eyes bright and pleading. She rubs his head, playing with his hair.

“Who told you bout that?” She asks, looking down at him. He grins and lets go of her to pet Fancy.

“Uncle John and Uncle Javier were talkin about goin an they mentioned you was,” he innocently replies, hugging the mare’s neck. Scarlet crosses her arms and rests her weight on her right foot, chewing her bottom lip.

“Maybe. It depends on who is going to be there, Sweetheart,” she finally answers, leaning over to ruffle his hair. He yelps in surprise and swats at his mother’s hands, running away from her. She laughs and finishes putting Fancy’s old saddle on her; leather worn and tattered from years of wear and rough riding. Fancy, knowing which saddle she was now wearing, tosses her head and paws the ground anxiously. “Easy girl, we’re headin out later,” she settles the old mare. James runs back up to her, Arthur following behind him. The cowboy gives Scarlet a curious look as he approaches, looking at Fancy’s saddle change.

“What’s with the get up? You running away already?” He jokes, gesturing to Fancy.

“Hah, as if. You an ol’ Dutch ain’t gonna just let me up an go,” she snorts at him. He wants to say something against her, but he knows she’s right. “Anyway, there’s a rodeo bein held in Rhodes. I figure since it’s in a few days, I’ll just head that way now an get a room, just stay at the hotel there so I’m not ridin any of the horses the day of,” she explains and walks with them back into camp. James runs off to Abigail and John’s tent, asking for Jack. Scarlet smiles at that, happy he has someone to play with, even if Jack is four years younger.

“M’kay, ya got us there. What’s a rodeo though?” He asks as she sits down at one of the tables, pulling a can of peaches from her bag. She slices the top and pries it up, stabbing a peach slice before answering.

“It’s a big event where people, usually cowboys and ranchers, gather to show their skills. There’s steer ropin, team ropin, bronc bustin, bull ridin, an a lot of other different activities. My Ma used to take Fancy to the barrel races. We ain’t had a horse beat her record yet. Least, not that I’ve heard. But she’s gettin old an I know Shamrock is a lot faster than she is, he’s just not as skilled. Where Fancy is elegant, Shamrock is clumsy. He takes his turns too wide. But he’s still faster than her time, even bein as such,” she explains, eating the peach from her knife. Arthur tenses a moment, fearful she’ll cut herself. She hums and offers him a slice, which he refuses.

“So what events are you going to be in, Miss O’Hara?” He inquires, watching her carefully so she doesn’t cut herself.

“Probably my usual; bronc bustin, bull ridin, barrels, an pole bendin,” She states matter-of-factly. Arthur hums out a positive affirmation. “Broncs have two categories, saddles an bareback. Saddled is easier because, well, you’re in a saddle. Bareback is obviously harder, like if you’re breaking a horse out in the country, no lead or nothing. They give you a riggin to hold on to, but that’s it. It’s basically a heavy rein. That’s all you get. The goal is to stay on for minimum of eight seconds; for broncs an bulls, but if you can go longer, the better your score an points.”

“So it’s a gatherin for stupid people, who pretend to be cowboys an ranchers, to watch other stupid people pretend to be cowboys an ranchers?” Arthur summarizes, smiling at her.

“Well now, I didn’t know you thought I was stupid, Morgan. Here I thought we made a pretty decent team!” She feigns hurt, stabbing another peach from the can. She maintains eyes contact as she bites the fruit from her knife, letting out a soft moan at the sweet taste. Arthur’s skin flushes a light pink and he coughs to clear his throat.

“I’d never! Weren’t talkin bout you, Darlin’. But that’s just how it sounds for the majority. I’ve seen you work, you’re the real deal,” he chuckles as she nods at his praise; she leans the open can towards him, holding her knife by the blade in offering. He rolls his eyes but takes both, eating a few slices before passing them back to her.

“Well in that case, will you ride with me? I don’t know if I wanna bring James but if you’ll be there I’ll feel better ‘bout him taggin along,” she admits, playing with her knife before taking out a green handkerchief to clean it. He studies her a moment, weighing his options.

“What’s Dutch think of you runnin off to do this?”

“Dutch? Aha, I swayed him. There’s good money in it if you win events. Ample opportunity to pick pocket old, rich, drunk bastards too,” she shrugs and tips the can to drink the juice. “So, Arthur, will you ride with me?”

“When you plan on leavin?”

“Probably this afternoon. I gotta go get Shasta. He’s good at the pole bendin. If you’re decent, we can sign up for the team ropin! We both ride our horse in the pen they have set up and have to rope a steer. One of us ropes the horns and the other it’s back legs, then we face each other and back our horses up so the ropes are nice and tight and it can’t get away,” she explains, slipping her knife back in its holster.

“You got me. I’ll go. Not sure if you want me in the competition, but I’ll ride wit’chu,” he agrees and nods. “Besides, I wanna see what this bronc bustin is. Seems like you’re real excited for it.”

“Oh I am, Cowboy. Bronco bustin is a favorite of mine. The wild, young stallions with too much spirit are my favorites,” she winks at him, getting up from the table. “You’ll need a new saddle if you do plan to enter any events,” she calls over her shoulder as she heads for her wagon to finish getting ready.

Dutch helps Scarlet onto her wagon, handing her back the flyer. She watches him silently, studying his expression. He looks up at her, taking hold of her hand.

“You do well to keep my boys in line, ya hear? Don’t let them go makin fools of themselves out there,” he prompts her, watching as she laughs.

“Keep’em in check and show’em how a real hustler works their magic, aye. I’ll do my best, but remember I’m actually in most the events. I wouldn’t worry too much though, I’ve got Arthur and that Silver Fox of yours, Hosea. I think with those two I can handle the rest. The girls shouldn’t be an issue, but I’ll keep an eye on them,” she squeezes his hand reassuringly as they lock eyes. “You have my word, Dutch.”

“Alright. You do well then too. Keep me updated on how things go. We’ll be waiting for your return,” he gives his approval as he lets her go.

Everyone ready?” She turns to the group in the back. Her eyes roam over the small group: John, Abigail, Jack, James, Javier, Tilly, Sean, and Mary-Beth.

“I think so, everyone’s here,” Abigail sends Scarlet a smile, arms secure over both boys’ shoulders. “They’re settled in for the ride.” The others nod their confirmation and Scarlet turns back to Dutch, tipping her hat to him.

“We ready?” Arthur joins her in the front of the wagon, taking the reins.

“Yeah, Daddy Dutch just gave us his blessing,” she winks teasingly at Dutch who crosses his arms.

“Very funny, Miss O’Hara,” Dutch calls as he steps back from the wagon, scoffing at her audacity. Molly gets up from his cot, moving to stand by him just outside his tent.

“You know you love me,” she hums, scooting closer to Arthur on the bench as she removes her revolver from her belt and sets it between their feet on the footrest.

“You be safe, Miss O’Hara,” Molly waves as Arthur cracks the reins. Shasta and Shamrock toss their heads and pull the wagon around the camp, weaving around the other tents and set up.

“Always, Miss O’Shea!” Scarlet hollers back, throwing a hand up in a wave as they head into the trees. She whistles and Fancy and the blood bay follow them from the hitching posts, both saddled up and ready to ride. Arthur slows them as they pass Sadie and Charles, Sadie turning over guard duty.

“Where y’all off too?” She pets Fancy who nickers at her, prancing in place.

“Rodeo is Rhodes. Ever been to one?” Scarlet leans over the side, one hand on Arthur’s leg to keep her tethered to the wagon.

“Acourse I’ve been to a rodeo. Need another rider for anythin?” Sadie asks, shouldering her rifle.

“You any good at Steer Ropin? Javier could use a good partner. I’m not bad but I’m not great either,” the red head admits. Sadie’s eyes light up as she nods.

“Yeah, I reckon I’m as decent as any man,” she claims, brushing the mustang’s mane with her hands.

“Run tell Dutch you’re coming with and hop on the blood bay there,” she invites the blonde, leaning back into the seat. The others whistle for their horses while they wait for Sadie.

The ride to Rhodes is a long one, even with a wagon. Scarlet enlightens everyone on all the activities and events at a rodeo, Sadie and Javier jumping in for clarification or to add something she forgot.

Sadie keeps an eye out for any raiders and makes sure Fancy, Boaz, Smoke, Ennis, and Old Boy are keeping up with the wagon. She keeps them calm and whistles for them if they ever are falling behind, slowing the thoroughbred to make sure they can find their way and to make sure the horses aren’t ambushed and stolen.

Scarlet makes sure she’s always touching Arthur in some way, be it her leg pressed up against his, her hand on his leg, her arm looped through his, or even leaning on him for a nap. He doesn’t mind, allowing it after a questioning glance the first time he noticed she was doing it.

“Here we are. Rhodes. You think they’ll be enough rooms for the lot of us?” Arthur glances at Scarlet then back to the small town.

“Dunno. I can run in an ask real quick. Wait out here,” she orders as she starts climbing down the wagon before he has it stopped. He yells after her, something about waiting for him to stop the horses before jumping off recklessly. She just grins as she lands in Fancy’s saddle. They wait patiently in the wagon until she rides back up, having to pull up hard on Fancy so she almost bucks to a stop.

“So what’d they say?” Arthur leans over the side, hand outstretched for her to take. She grabs his forearm, locking her hand around it as he does the same and pulls her up with a grunt.

“Said they got two rooms. I went ahead an rented one for the boys; Jack and James, and the other for John and Abigail. The rest of us can camp just outside of town here. That is, if that set up works for y’all?” She raises a brow at the group. They share looks as John and Abigail look at each other. She tilts her head to the left and her brows furrow.

“That’s fine, thank you, Scarlet. Jack can stay with us if you want the other room with James,” Abigail speaks up, running her fingers through her son’s hair. James looks up at his mother expectantly.

“You sure?” The red head inquires, motioning for James to move up to the front with her. He does so and sits on the side of her so she’s between him and Arthur.

“Yeah. We are a family after all,” Abigail confirms with a nod of her head. Scarlet nods and turns back to the front, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment. She points to the clearing back by one entrance of the small town, instructing Arthur to pull the wagon up there.

They all unload the wagon and pitch the small tents Scarlet pre-purchased, when she went to pick up Shasta, and brought along. Tilly and Mary-Beth take a tent, Sean and Javier take another, Hosea and Arthur in one, and Sadie gets her own.

“What are we gonna do for food?” Mary-Beth questions, clapping her hands together as Javier gets a small fire going.

“Arthur and I can go hunt. He’s not too poor a shot,” John volunteers, playfully jabbing at the older man. Arthur rolls his eyes and grins.

“Maybe we’ll run into your friends, the wolves,” he quips back, walking over to Smoke to retrieve his bow and rifle.

“On second thought-”

“Nope, you already volunteered. Let’s go,” Arthur grabs the back of John’s shirt, preventing him from trying to get out of hunting.

“You ain’t gotta worry bout wolves out this way. Just coyotes. But they’re more scared of you, usually,” Scarlet offers in partial consolation. He deadpans at her and she laughs along with the others. “Just sayin. Maybe you’ll have better luck havin a run-in with them.”

Arthur pulls John along with him until he shrugs him off to grab his own rifle from his horse. They walk through the fields, Arthur looking for tracks, scat, or fur. When they come close to the tree line they stop, several deer grazing along the woods.

“Let’s see if we can get two,” John whispers, pulling his rifle up to look through the scope. “There’s a buck scratching his antlers on a tree, you see him?”

“Yeah I see him,” Arthur sets his scope on the white coated buck John sees. “You wanna take him?”

“Nah, there’s another one a little ways down to the right. I’ll get that one. Just let me know when you’ve got a shot lined up, I don’t wanna be tracking these things all night if it’s not a solid kill,” John huffs and focuses on his buck. “I’ve got a clean shot.”

“Me too.”

Two gunshots sound, almost in sync. Sadie and Scarlet look up, eyes searching the source.

“Abigail, stay here with them. We’ll be right back,” Scarlet says and gets to her feet, Sadie on her heels. They quickly mount up, Sadie on the blood bay and Scarlet on Smoke, and head over to the field where the shots came from. Scarlet laughs as she sees John and Arthur hauling bucks over their shoulders.

“Let’s go help them,” she states, slowing Smoke from his gallop to a walk. He instantly obeys, making a bee line for Arthur when he sees him. “Good boy,” she praises him as he stops a few feet away from Arthur, neighing. He looks up at Scarlet in his saddle and raises a brow before tying the buck onto the back.

“Now where am I supposed to sit?” He chides playfully. Scarlet glances at John and Sadie, who are tying his buck on the back of the other thoroughbred, before slipping her boots from the stirrups and sliding her body almost completely onto the horn of the saddle. Arthur gapes at her a minute before chortling, putting one foot in the stirrups and pulling himself into the saddle. Once he’s settled, Scarlet sits back, sitting half on his lap and half on the saddle.

“See? There’s always room if you know how to double,” she tips her head back to look at him, green eyes bright with mirth. He shakes his head as he smiles at her, taking the reins from her hands.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mutters. Sadie and John have a similar set up, though Sadie is sitting on the very back of the saddle with the deer behind her.

“Lucky an cute, I ain’t. Charmin an sassy, I am,” she replies and clicks her tongue, Smoke listening to her command.

“Oh, so now my horse listens to you?”

“For the most part. He’s such a good boy. I’m sure he’d do well in barrels or pole bending,” she expresses, leaning forward to rub the dark grey thoroughbred’s neck. “Ain’t that right? Yeah, you’re a good boy,” she cooes to him before straightening herself back in the saddle as best she can without rubbing against Arthur too much. “He was the closest horse to me. I thought you were using bows, not rifles. We wanted to make sure y’all’s a’right.”

“Aww how sweet,” he leans his chest against her back, breathing on her ear as he whispers, “you was worried bout me.”

“Shut up,” she rolls her eyes and pushes back against him. “Acourse I worry. I already told y’all, you’re my boys. Can’t let anything happen to y’all, I’m too emotionally invested. So’s the boy,” she chews her lip and holds onto the horn; she can feel the heat rise in her cheeks as she posts with him, moving in tandem with Smoke’s even strides.

Scarlet helps the two men skin and field dress the deer a bit away from camp before they bring them back to cook. Sadie pulls out oregano and mint from one of the saddlebags and helps Abigail get it cooking. They all chat idly around the fire, the boys playing in the mud.

The small group settles into a content silence as they eat, the two boys settling into the wagon to play with the dominoes, courtesy of Tilly, once they’re done eating. Sadie leans on the wagon, watching and smiling as Scarlet and Arthur sit with their boots knocking against each others.

“Hey, Scarl!”

The Irish-blooded woman looks up from her deer sandwich and tilts her head. Sadie waves her over and she frowns, wiping the bread crumbs from her pants as she stands up. She bends down, whispering something to Arthur who nods, and brings her food over to the wagon.

“You need something?” Scarlet asks the blonde woman, leaning on the wagon beside her, crossing her right ankle over her left. She pops the last bite into her mouth.

“Just wanted to ask about you and Arthur. What’s goin on there? You look like a love struck puppy,” Sadie teases, watching Scarlet cough, slightly choking on the food.

“What makes you say that?!” She starts, graciously taking the offered brandy and downing it. She stares at her friend, wide eyed and a little shocked at the bluntness of her question. “He’s a...he’s a good friend, a gentleman,” she states.

“Uh huh. That why you’ve both been sittin so close to each other an ridin together?” Sadie sasses, smile growing as Scarlet tries to find a comeback, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Look, Sadie, he’s just a friend. Nothin more,” she sighs, playing with the empty brandy bottle in her hand. She tosses it under the wagon and uncrosses her feet, letting her back lean fully on the cart. “I have my son to think about. That’s my main priority.”

Sadie nods, acknowledging Scarlet, but keeps quiet. She knows that she’s pushed a little much but she got what she needed from Scarlet. Sadie pats her shoulder and gestures to where she had been sitting. “Go on, sit and talk. I’ll watch the boys.”

“Thanks, Sadie.”

Hosea looks up as Scarlet leaves to see Sadie. He smiles and turns to Arthur, setting his beer down. “Anythin goin on between you two that I should warn Dutch about? We ain’t gonna be worryin bout any mini Morgans are we, Arthur?” The silver fox asks, nodding to Scarlet when aforementioned cowboy looks up. Arthur nearly drops his beer in shock, spitting some of it out. He stares at Hosea like he’s crazy.

“Old Man, just what you on bout now? Ain’t nothin gon’ on between us. We’re just friends, she’s a decent outlaw of a woman,” he admits, swishing around the beer in his bottle.

“You sure bout t’at, Art’ur? You two seem ta be really close. Like, really, close. Weren’t she just in yer lap when you brought t’at there deer back?” Sean chimes in, tossing his empty bottle to the side and reaching for another.

“Yeah. We work well together, what do you want me to say?” Arthur asks, directing his attention to Hosea, completely dismissing Sean’s second question.

“That you are sweet on her, even if only a little? If you won’t be honest with us, at least be honest about it with yourself,” Abigail scolds, tucked into John’s side by the camp fire. He regards them a moment, nodding to himself.

“I care about her, just like I care about any of you,” he admits, watching as Abigail and Tilly frown at his words. He laughs as they throw blades of grass at him. “Okay, so maybe I like her a little,” he freezes momentarily at the looks the group give him collectively, “okay a lot more than I let on. An yes I am sweet on her, but she don’t want no part of bein with an outlaw..”

“Oh you let on more than you think,” John chuckles.

“Apparently, if you can see it,” Arthur retorts.

“Have you tried actually talkin to her about it, Arthur?” Tilly asks, setting her coffee cup by her feet. The outlaw scratches his neck, shaking his head.

“Bout what? Me likin her? Nah. She’s got James, an I guess his father is still in the picture. No need to involve myself where I might get hurt,” he sighs and leans back. He chugs the rest of his beer and motions for Sean or Hosea to pass him another.

“Why don’t you just ask her an see? I’m sure you’ll be surprised. You don’t see how she isn’t as happy an herself without you around camp. When Dutch asked her to stay and talk to him the other day? When you went into Valentine with Uncle and the girls? She helped us just fine but she didn’t really talk to anyone unless it was necessary. Well, she talked to Sadie an Abigail, and the boys of course. Everyone else she pretty much ignored. Dutch and myself included. Didn’t even bother to instigate with that O’Driscoll boy you brought back to Colter either,” Hosea reveals and hands him another bottle.

“Just...Oh, Arthur, just think about it will you?” Abigail pleads, hugging John’s arm tight as she stares at the older man. Arthur sighs and nods his head, throwing his hands up in surrender.

“Alright. I’ll think on it,” he pops the top off his bottle. He reflexively scoots over when Scarlet comes back over, taking up her spot beside him on the log again. Hosea and Tilly give Arthur a look and he rolls his eyes, sending them glares.

“Sadie said she’ll watch the boys for a little. I think I’ll take them to the hotel in a bit to get a bath before bed though, if that’s alright with y’all?” Scarlet nods to Abigail and John, offhandedly asking for permission.

“Oh, a bath sounds nice! Don’t you think, John?” Abigail croons, pressing against his side. He glances up at Scarlet who nods before he looks down at his wife.

“Uhh, yeah, sure. A bath,” John answers, scanning their group for a possible way out. He sighs and gets up, pulling his arm from Abigail’s hold before holding his hand out to her. “Shall we go take a bath, Abigail?”

Scarlet and Sean make eye contact and immediately “Ooooooh,” at the couple as they head away from camp. John turns back and drags his thumb across his neck and points to them before Abigail grabs Jack from the wagon and they disappear into the town. The Irish duo crack up and Sean hands her a whiskey bottle.

“To being free and not tied down!” He cheers and knocks back his drink. Javier, Tilly, and Mary-Beth follow suit, draining their drinks. Scarlet looks at Arthur and Hosea, offering her bottle and motioning to their own drinks in question.

“Y’all are married or were?” She speaks over the crackle of the fire, watching the shadows dance across Hosea’s face. The old man nods and leans forward so his elbows are on his knees.

“Once, a long time ago. My sweet Bessie and I were together for awhile. I stepped away from the gang for a few years, back when it was just Dutch, Arthur, and myself. Arthur, we picked him up when he was bout fourteen, fifteen. I don’t think he remembers her much, or me leaving. But as things always do, I drifted back into it. She knew what I was and how it went, but we somehow made it work. She passed away many years ago. I was drunk for about a year after,” Hosea clears his throat and takes a swig of his drink, eyes downcast. Arthur shoves up from the log and stalks over to the wagon, saying something to Sadie who joins them at the fire. Hosea sighs and pats Scarlet’s knee, motioning to Arthur with his bottle.

“Did I- is he okay?” She looks at Hosea with furrowed brows.

“He’s been through a lot. It’s not something you can just get over,” the silver fox explains. The trio watch as James leans over the side of wagon, tapping Arthur’s arm. The two seem to talk and Arthur strikes a match, lighting a cigarette. Scarlet squeezes Hosea’s hand that’s still on her knee, giving him a small nod of affirmation.

“I’ll talk to him. It’s not good to keep it bottled up...I know better than most,” she mumbles as she makes her way to her wagon.

She quietly climbs into the back with James. “Son, go sit with Mrs. Adler and Mister Hosea. I’m gon’ talk with Arthur a moment.”

“Yes, Ma. Bye, Mr. Morgan, thank you! I can’t wait to get home!” The boy cheers and clambers down from the cart, headed for Sadie. Scarlet takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out, climbing to sit sideways on the front, staring at the sunset with Arthur. They’re both silent, Arthur taking slow drags from his cigarette and Scarlet staring at the horizon, deep in thought.

“Wanna talk ‘bout it? I don’t know what I said to upset you, but I’m sorry,” she apologizes, voice soft. She turns her head as he snuffs out the cigarette on the bottom of his boot. He doesn’t answer, just leans on the wagon with his hat tilted down. She picks at her jeans, worn with age and often wear. Arthur turns to her, hand gently resting on hers, stilling her fidgeting.

“It’s a long story, Darlin’. Maybe some other time. And it’s not what you said, it’s what they did,” he finally speaks, voice gruff as though he were on the verge of tears.

She immediately opens her arms as she slides down from the wagon seat. Arthur takes her up on her offer, wrapping his arms around her as she does the same. He buries his nose in her hair, inhaling her scent and trying to calm his racing heart. They stay like that, Scarlet wrapped tight in his arms with her hold on him just as tight, her breathing helping slow his as he tries to sync his frantic beating heart with her steady one.

“We have three days, and you know where I sleep,” she comments, chin resting on his sternum as she looks up at him. He pulls back a little to look down at her.

“I know. You’ll be in one of them rooms at the hotel,” he replies, dipping his head a little. “Forgive me fer askin, but what room numbers?”

“Why? Plannin on payin me a midnight visit?” She teases and steps back as he finally lets go of his hold on her. She hesitates in letting go, but her arms eventually slip from around his ribcage.

Scarlet startles awake, glancing around the room as she momentarily forgets her bearings. She sits up as the same sound repeats, a trio of knocks on the door. She grabs her hunting knife from her belt that’s draped over the dresser. Sleepily, she makes her way to the door, trying to stifle a yawn. She unlocks the door and opens it, knife poised in her left hand, hidden behind the door.

“Arthur?” She yawns, relaxing and ushering him inside. He ducks his head in embarrassment as he steps into the room, minding to be quiet when he sees James asleep on the bed.

“I uhh, I was wonderin if you wanted to talk?” He asked shyly, taking a hesitant seat on the bed when she gestures to it, slipping her knife back in its holster.

“Come, come. Lay with us an we’ll talk,” she offers, climbing back into the bed, scooting close to James, leaving enough room for Arthur to lie down to her left. He goes to protest but her sleepy glare has him taking his boots and jacket off.

“You said it’s not good to hold these things in so I figured that I’d tell you,” he starts, slowly crawling up the bed, lying on his side to face her. She pulls the blanket up to her shoulders, tucking it under her left arm as she faces him.

“It’s not, and I’m not pushin you, Arthur. If you don’t wanna talk about it, you don’t have too. I’ll sit here with you in silence if ya want. No promises I won’t fall asleep on you though,” she yawns again as she curls her legs up. He nods and relaxes back against the wall, holding his arm up for her to scoot in and cuddle.

“Like I said, it’s a long story. Might as well be comfortable,” he informs her when she gives him a puzzled look. She laughs lightly and nods, moving closer to him, resting her head on his chest, left arm resting on his shoulder. He pulls her left leg over his waist, fixing the blanket after he does so, letting his hands rest on her lower back and on her left calf, holding her leg in place over him.

“Take your time,” she encourages, moving her left hand to cradle his head, scratching at his scalp with her nails. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tries to figure out where to start his story.

“Like Hosea said, he and Dutch ran into me when I was young. I was a delinquent, rough and wild as they come. They took me in and taught me what they knew, even taught me to read. I’ve been with them for nearly twenty years, maybe more. But I had a girl once, we weren’t married but I did get her pregnant. A nice waitress I met, Eliza. She gave me a little boy, Isaac. I told her I couldn’t promise her a good life, she seemed to understand. I’d send money and every few months I’d stop in for a few days to see them, spend some time with them, yanno?” He lets out a shaky breath. Scarlet nods against him, her hand in his hair slowly tracing patterns on his scalp to try and calm him.

“If it’s too much, you ain’t gotta talk ‘bout it,” she whispers, tilting her head to look up at him. He looks down at her, green eyes filled with concern for him. He shakes his head and squeezes her calf.

“One day when I rode up, I saw two crosses outside the house, one smaller than the other. It didn’t take me long to figure out they were robbed. All for ten dollars,” his tone is laced with venom as he spits out the last sentence, face scrunching in anger momentarily. Scarlet stays silent as she tries to think of what to say. She knows loosing someone you love, or even just care for deeply, isn’t easy. She tells him as much.

“Look, we can’t keep living in the past, wishin things were different. They’re over an it’s not like we can change them, no matter how bad we wanna. I know. I’ve tried. Ran myself into the ground for years while riddled with guilt that wasn’t mine to bear,” she soothes, her right arm curling about his own under her. “Be sad an mourn them, yes, but don’t allow that to cloud yer judgement an prevent you from doin things. Especially if it’s somethin ya really wanna do.”

It’s Arthur’s turn to be quiet, letting her perspective sink in. He nods and rubs up and down her calf soothingly, meeting her eyes once again. She’s smiling and he can’t help but smile too as they stare into each other’s eyes for a few moments.

“I guess you’re right. Hey, I’m sorry about earlier. Just stormin off like that; it wasn’t fair to you. It’s not your fault they brought it up. Sometimes it’s hard to imagine me even having the chance to have that again,” his voice cracks as he holds her a little tighter, a little closer to him. She pauses scratching his scalp and sighs, nuzzling against his chest.

“To have that closeness with someone again? Yeah, me too,” she softly admits between yawns. Arthur moves his hand from her hip to her head, holding it against his chest as he presses a kiss to the crown of her head. She lets her eyes flutter close as he gently starts to rub her back.

Scarlet doesn’t remember falling asleep, or waking up at four in the morning either. So the surprise of waking up in Arthur’s warm embrace shocks her a little. She’s up before James, which is another surprise to her; she immediately turns over and gently shakes Arthur, whispering softly to him to prevent startling him.

“Come on, Arthur, get up,” she croons, gently shaking his shoulder. He turns his head and grumbles under his breath in his sleep, arm moving to wrap her up. His eyes flutter open as something blocks his arm from his cuddle buddy.

“What the?” His voice is rough, riddled thick with sleep. Scarlet subconsciously licks her lips as she hears it, eyes darting to his lips before back to his face. She huffs out a quiet laugh at his slightly confused expression.

“Mornin, Cowboy. I think it’s best you go get ready for the day, James’ll be up soon and then we won’t hear the end of how you were ‘sharin a bed with Ma at the rodeo’,” she muses in delight, hand tracing lightly over his chest. She’s made no effort to even dislodge herself from his hold, despite her claim for him to get up.

It’s about ten minutes of them idly talking before Arthur finally slips from the bed and pulls his boots back on, telling her that he was going to check on the others. He’s closing the door as quiet as he can, trying not to wake James, when a gasp behind him startles him.

“Arthur Morgan!” Abigail scolds lightly, quietly; eyes wide as she glances down at Jack. Arthur’s gaze meets hers and he half shrugs at her.

“What?”

“I know I did not just see you coming out of Scarlet’s room,” she grits out as she stares at him hard, eyes cutting through him. “Not with James in there.”

“Jesus, Abigail! No. I came by to talk to her, ‘at’s all. I, the others...Last night a few of them drank to “being free and not tied down”,” he explains as he shuffles awkwardly under Abigail’s scrutinizing gaze. She nods and opens the bedroom door for Jack to go back in to wake up John.

“It brought up Eliza and Isaac, didn’t it?” She lowers her voice, tone softening greatly. Arthur nods and brings his hat to his head, adjusting it to his liking.

“Yeah. Yeah it did. I told her. I told her about them, about it all,” he voice is barely a whisper, gruff, the start of almost tears evident. Abigail nods and moves to him, resting a hand on his shoulder, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

“I’m proud of you. I know that’s not easy to talk about. Just stay honest with her. Did she say anything about James’ father and his role?” She changes the melancholy subject, stepping back a couple steps.

“No. We just talked a bit bout Eliza an Isaac. She didn’t bring him up,” he replies softly, eyes warm as he meets Abigail’s. “I’ll ask her later, she’s getting ready. I’m gon’ make sure everyone else is up and ready for the day.”

John steps out of the room, pulling his coat on. “Let’s go then.”

By the time John and Arthur make it back to the tents, everyone is up and they all share glances before smirking at them. Arthur groans and points at Hosea.

“Not one word. I was talking with Scarlet and Abigail,” he states before anyone can ask him anything. They shrug and make room for him around the fire, passing the coffee pot around.

Scarlet, Abigail, and the boys join the rest of them not too long after, both boys running towards Hosea. They show him their books and sit on either side of him as he offers to sit and read with them. Scarlet’s heart melts at the sight, wishing James’ father was willing to be as accepting as this gang. She’s done her fair amount of research on Dutch and his gang. As far as she was concerned, they were nothing like what the papers and people were saying. She trusts them with her life.

“What’s the plan for today?” Javier asks as he passes Scarlet the pot for coffee. She thanks him and pours herself a cup before taking up the only available seat, beside Arthur.

“Mm they should have everything set up by tonight. Which means they might start the events tonight or tomorrow. Regardless, I figured we could go take a look at the bulls and broncos they have for the events. If I remember correctly the townsfolk said that they were bringin in bout five different broncs and at least three different bulls,” she replies and looks around at the people she’s slowly started calling her family. She smiles, her eyes lingering on Hosea with the boys, their laughter drifting over to her.

“Have you signed up yet?” Sadie sits down at Scarlet’s feet, leaning back on her legs. Scarlet looks down at her and shakes her head.

“No, not yet. They won’t let us sign up this early, and from my experience I have to have a man with me vouchin that he’s my guardian or partner and he expresses his permission for me to participate,” she rolls her eyes and cradles her coffee mug in front of her face, blowing on the steaming liquid.

“What?” Scarlet turns to Arthur, John, and Javier at their outburst; they’re all looking at her in disbelief.

“You didn’t tell us that,” Arthur raises a brow as he sets his now empty coffee on the ground. “Why?”

“Didn’t think it necessary. If y’all wouldn’t’ve come with me I’d’ve just done what I always do. Pinned my hair up and pretended I was my brother,” she smirks, shrugging at him. “No need to bug anyone if y’all woulda had better things to do.”

“Oh, Sweetheart, if you’d ask I bet any of the men at camp would have gone with you even if Dutch had told you no,” Abigail laughs. The men all look at each other then away, rubbing their necks at being called out. The females giggle at them and Scarlet nudges Arthur’s knee.

“I know at least two would, the others I’m not sure about,” she teases back, stealing a glance at Arthur who quickly looks away when their eyes meet. He clears his throat and claps his hands on his knees.

“Well, are we going to go see how far they’re set up?” He suggests as he pushes up from the log, holding a hand to Scarlet. He pulls her up and the rest of them follow suit, Jack and James jumping up when they see everyone else heading towards them.

Scarlet leaves them a little bit after they’ve checked out the last pen, excusing herself by stating she needed to get dressed for the event. James gives her a hug before she goes, telling her to wear his favorite of her outfits; she smiles and agrees, giving the others a wink as she heads back to the hotel.

By dusk, everyone is ready to watch Scarlet compete. They are cheering her name as the announcer calls out all the competitors, hers being the last one since she was the last to sign up for each event. In the end, Hosea had been the one who went with her to register, saying she was his daughter to compete for him since he was too old.

Arthur has James on his shoulders, Jack on John’s, as they make their way over to the fence, letting the boys sit on the top post. Abigail and the other women head off to try their luck at pick-pocketing people, not too interested in the competition until it’s Scarlet’s turn. Hosea leaves the two men with the boys, going to place bets on Scarlet for the bronc and bull riding, with the money she gave him to do so.

James whoops and throws his hands up as Scarlet rides out on Shasta, the stallion bucking a little with the other competitors. Jack cheers and claps along with Arthur and John. They competitors ride around the pen, waving to everyone before being huddled in a circle.

She’s dressed in a black, long sleeve top with red fringe down the arms and along the sides and on the front, across her chest with matching black chaps, also with red fringe down the outside seam of the legs. She’s wearing the hat Arthur bought for her too, black boots with silver spurs completing her look. Arthur stares.

“Alright! Is everyone ready?” The rodeo announcer yells loud enough to silence the crowd. They all move closer to listen. “We’re gonna be startin off with the Broncs! Saddled then unsaddled! Then bull ridin followed by steer ropin! We have our bronc riders here, so give them all a warm welcome!” He cheers and runs from the small platform he’s on to discuss rules and terms with the bronc riders.

Afterwards, the group of eight, Scarlet included, turn their horses and trot out of the pen. Scarlet walks Shasta over to her group and slides from the saddle, hitching him to a nearby tree. She braces herself as James and Jack barrel into her. She laughs as they hug her legs and James mumbles something about not ever saying ‘I love you’ enough. She silences him with a hug and kiss to his temple. She ushers them back over to the fence and joins them on the top post, Arthur leaning on it and towards her as they wait her turn.

“Oh! There goes O’Malley, at five seconds in! Not long enough to make the cut, unfortunately!” Arthur tunes out the announcer and clears his throat, nudging Scarlet’s thigh with his shoulder.

“Nice getup,” he comments, side-eyeing her. She tips her hat back and looks down at him, hands resting firmly on the post to steady herself.

“Thanks. It was my mother’s; back when she used to race Fancy. Red and black are our lucky colors,” she replies, turning back to the ring to watch the next competitor. He’s thrown, right out of the gate, and they laugh.

“When are you up?” Arthur asks, hand playing with some of her fringe. She glances at him, her dark wash jeans peeking through the sides of the chaps.

“I’ll be last since I was the last to sign up. I’ll need to go to the other side after the next couple of guys get tossed though,” she explains, pointing out the small area where they rodeo hands where locking the horse back in. “They’re doing unsaddled first, which is good and bad. Good that it’s out of the way, bad because they’ll know they’ll have somethin to hold on to other than just the riggin.”

“Which is easier for you?”

“Unsaddled or saddled? They’re both pretty easy if you know what you’re doin. Breaking horses is easy, you saw my skill when we broke those thoroughbreds,” she smiles and pushes against his arm with her leg. “Just watch, relax, an enjoy yourself here. Hosea go make bets?”

“Yeah, I think he said he was going to place some on you,” John answers, helping Jack off the fence. “We’ll be back, Jack’s gotta piss.” Scarlet waves at them, fringe dancing as her arm moves, turning back to Arthur and James.

“James, wanna go see the bull I’ll be riding later?” She asks, wrapping her right arm around his shoulders. He eagerly nods up at her and grins, eyes bright.

“Can I?”

“Sure. We’ll go once I’m done with these two events, alright?” She kisses his forehead and hops off the fence. “I reckon I best get over there before I get called out.” She starts to head back to the other side of the fence. She doesn’t get far.

“Wait, Scarlet!” Arthur grabs her hand and tugs her back into his chest. He grins sheepishly down at her and pulls out a red neckerchief that coincidentally matches her outfit. He ties it around her neck and nods. “For good luck,” he prompts. Her fingers brush over the soft fabric and she smiles up at him.

“Thank you, Arthur. I’ll keep it as a reminder that we, together as one, broke six horses in a matter of twelve hours,” she chuckles as she starts walking backwards, her spurs jingling with each step. Arthur watches her as she spins on her heel and gets ushered to the other side of the corral by some rodeo hands.

“Ma likes you, ya know, Mister? I haven’t seen her smile like that in a few years,” James hums as he glances at Arthur.

“Yeah? You think?”

“I know. I overheard her one day, talkin to Papa Dennis, sayin she didn’t want to bring any new guys ‘round me,” he lowers his voice as the next rider climbs over the small fence to get on the horse. “She’s gets sad when I go stay with Pa; I see it in her eyes. They fought once; I remember it scared me. I hid under the table with Frank, my Pa’s dog. Pa said somethin bout me livin with him an Ma said no, that if he wanted that he would grow a pair an stop listenin to his family an what they say bout her; come live with us if he really wanted that. Pa left that night, I don’t know where. He made Ma cry before he left though. I found her in her bedroom, cryin on the floor. I don’t know what Pa did, but it made Momma cry. You’re not gon make Ma cry, are ya?” He looks up at Arthur, same green eyes as Scarlet’s staring back at him. The man sighs and clears his throat, patting James on the back.

“Son, I don’t wanna make your momma cry. That’s the last thing I wanna do,” he assures the boy. He lifts James back onto his shoulders when the boy asks, holding his knees. “You see your Ma?”

“Yeah! She’s climbin the gate now! Look!” James squeals in excitement, tapping Arthur’s hat lightly and pointing across the pen to where Scarlet was slinging herself over the top post, her red fringe and neckerchief standing out in the moonlight. She scans the crowd on the other side of the corral and smiles as she meets her son’s green eyes staring back at her. She lets her gaze travel lower to lock eyes with Arthur, his face scrunched in slight disdain before he notices she’s staring at him. He grins then, waving with one hand.

James holds one of his hands up, signaling his mother to do the same. She grips the rigging tight in her left hand and throws her right hand up just as they open the small gate. The bronco jumps out of the gate, agitated and bucking high. Scarlet grips tight to the rigging, shifting her weight with the stallion. He rears before starting to run, then quickly turning in small circles in hopes of throwing her off. Scarlet laughs and coos to the horse as he continues to thrash.

“Eight! Ten! Twelve!”

Scarlet looses her grip on the rigging and gets bucked onto the bronco’s neck. She curses as he immediately rears and she hits the ground. She jumps up and runs over to one of the two men on horses and he pulls her up, bringing her over to the far side of the pen, letting her climb onto the fence and out of harm’s way. She nods to him and walks over to her group. “That’s seventeen seconds folks! Miss O’Hara takes the unsaddled bronco event!”

“Are you alright?”

“That looked like it hurt!”

“Do you need to sit down?”

“Momma! You did great!”

“You’re not hurt are you?”

Scarlet motions at them to calm down, rolling her shoulders and neck. James taps on Arthur’s shoulders, signaling he wants to be put down. He obliges and the boy runs to Scarlet; she kneels down and catches him in a hug that has her stumbling back a bit. Their laughter sparks happiness in the rest and they relax, joining in the affair.

“I’m alright. I’ve been bucked harder. Still don’t think there’s anythin worse than bein treed or fenced though,” she scoffs, letting James go.

“Treed? Fenced?” Hosea asks, warm smile on his face. “What’s that?”

“Oh uh, basically where the horse can’t get you off by bucking so their dumbass runs into a tree or fence; headfirst, skids and slides you into it, or anythin like that,” she explains and brushes the dirt off her outfit.

“Sounds painful,” Arthur muses. She nods and tips her head up at him.

“Well, congratulations. I just won the bet on you for this. I said you would at least stay on for ten seconds,” Hosea smugly states, patting his chest where he has the money hidden. Scarlet chuckles and shakes her head, nodding to the pen.

“You’re welcome? I didn’t expect them to use the same horse for all eight of us. Normally they let us see which horses are in the line ups and change from each rider or after a coupe.” James tugs on her sleeve, looking between her and Arthur.

“Momma you said we could go see the bulls!” He reminds, bouncing in his boots. Her nose scrunches in thought for a moment before she clicks her tongue.

“You’re right, I did. Come on, we can stop by the barn and check on Fancy and Shamrock,” she suggests and leads the small herd of people through the crowd that’s slowly gathering, people calling out congratulations and some throwing slurs. She brushes them off.

Scarlet takes a deep breath before she climbs up the fence to get on the saddled bronco, a mare this time she notes. She exhales and slings herself over the railing and into the saddle in one quick movement, gripping the heavy, lead lead she’s passed.

Her heartbeat is in her ears, the sound of the crowd -some cheering and booing- slowly fades as her heartbeat slows with time. The gate opens and she hangs tight to the lead, moving and adjusting quickly in the saddle. Her eyes focus on mare’s ears, pinned back as she grunts and snorts below her.

Everything rushes back to her as the mare rears and yanks her head back, nearly smacking Scarlet in the face. Luckily she snatches the reins to the left and quickly adjusts her position in the saddle. The mare spins quickly, attempting to bite at Scarlet’s foot, though she just pulls them back.

The mare finally charges the fence, slamming her side into it. Scarlet lets out a whimper as pain shoots through her right foot as the mare leaps to the left, away from the fence. Scarlet’s pulled from the saddle, her foot caught in the busted fence post. She can hear the announcer saying her time, but it’s fuzzy and she doesn’t catch how long she was actually on for. One of the men on horses’s pulls up beside her, leaning over to help lift her up. She holds herself on the back of the saddle as the man and a few audience members lift the post. She lets out her breath, not realizing she’s holding it, and slips from the horse, laughing as she’s helped through the fencing to Arthur and John.

“Christ, you okay? Sit down,” Arthur barks, forcing her to sit on the ground as he lifts her right leg, gently poking and prodding. She raises a brow at him and laughs, grabbing his hand. She moves it to her thigh where she can already feel a bruise forming.

“My foot is fine, my boot was just caught in the angle. It’s my upper thigh here she caught on the actual post. Fuckin mare, fenced me,” she swears, breaking out into a giggle fit as she leans back, lying on the ground. Hosea walks over and drops her hat on her chest, shaking his head.

“Twenty two seconds, you fool. You could have been severely hurt, why didn’t you get off before she ran you into the post?” He scolds, fear and concern heavy in his tone. Scarlet pushes up to rest back on her elbows, looking up at him.

“Didn’t know she was gon’ fence me. My adrenaline was up and I lost touch with reality,” she admits with a shrug. Arthur helps her to her feet and walks with her back to the gang, John and Hosea trailing behind. She can barely make out John telling Hosea that he couldn’t be too mad because she won yet another round.

Sean’s somehow manages to convince almost everyone to drink with him. Scarlet refuses, saying she needs to be fully focused on staying on the bucking bull since they’re unpredictable. Abigail declines and reminds him she has a son to watch, which in turn makes Arthur refuse as well, motioning to James. Hosea suggests he hold onto the money and things they rest of them have pick-pocketed before they get drunk. They readily agree. Sadie and Javier agree to one drink, reminding them of their steer roping event.

Arthur stops Scarlet before she can begin to climb the gate to get on the bull. She turns in his arms as she holds up a hand to signal she needs a moment, thinking something was wrong with James. He leans down, hands resting on her hips, and brushes his lips against her ear, whispering softly. “Good luck and please be safe. This one looks awful mean.” His warm breath fans down her neck and she shivers, hands subconsciously moving to rest on his forearms.

“Yeah, a’course. Always,” she smiles brightly at him, pulling away when the hands tell her she can either get on the bull or forfeit. She pauses as she’s straddling the top rail, sending a wink to Arthur before dropping down onto the dark bull. Arthur can hear the snorts and heavy hooves beating the ground as the bull tosses its head, its horns waving wildly.

Before he can yell at her to not to go through with this, he sees the gate open one last time. The bull jumps straight up before trying to use his horns to knock her off. She looks like she’s struggling and falls to the side of the bull. She yelps in surprise and yanks herself back up, enraging the bull. He bucks and whips his body to the right, throwing her over his left shoulder. She grunts as she hits the semi-packed dirt.

The bull bellows angrily at her and stamps the ground, kicking dirt up under his stomach and tossing it to the side. She rolls to her feet, snatching her hat, and makes a beeline for the fence as the bull charges. Three men in bright, silly looking outfits yell and distract the bull just long enough for Scarlet to slip out through the fence rails, rolling onto her back at Arthur’s feet.

Her chest heaves as she tries to calm her racing heart and even her breathing, her lungs trying to recover from the spasm of being thrown so hard. Arthur kneels over her, back of his hand running along her cheek gently.

“You good?” He inquires and scoops her up in his arms. She nods, her breathing slowly evening out. He sets her on her feet as they approach their friends. They have their bedrolls, Scarlet presumes from their tents, and are sprawled all out on them; the only sober ones being Abigail, John, Javier, Sadie, and Hosea. She giggles and takes an opened bottle John offers her, chugging the last bit and tossing the bottle to the side. Jack and James are curled up together in the middle of the group, both fast asleep.

“That’s the last event for me of the night. Tomorrow will be the others. If y’all don’t mind, I think I’m gonna go get a bath and go to bed. Hosea, did you get my time for this one?”

“Eleven seconds,” the silver fox replies, nodding to her. “You placed third this go round. I still won some money from betting. Some people were counting you out, I told them you’d be in at least the top three,” he preens as she congratulates him on being able to press his luck on her skill.

“That’s fine, I’ve won two. The barrels will be another victory, pole bendin maybe. I haven’t worked Shasta on it in awhile, but he’s really raring to go, or he was when he saw them earlier,” she comments, leaning on Arthur as she yawns. “But I think it’s bed time. Make sure they all make it back to their tents, could ya? They might get looted just laying about out here like that,” she gestures to the slumped group of people, all in one big cuddle pile.

Arthur lets her go as he picks up James for her, despite her protests. John grabs Jack and they all head back to the hotel, Hosea staying behind to wake the others and have them move to their temporary camp.

The duo couples say goodnight to each other and Arthur helps Scarlet get James into bed. She watches as he tucks her son in, something in her stomach fluttering. She clears her throat as he walks up to her, resting his forehead on hers. She watches his face, his expression.

“Stay?” She breathes as his hand comes up to cradle her cheek in his warm palm. She grips the front of his shirt and pleads, the need to be comforted a little too much for her at the moment. Arthur opens his eyes to stare at her, nodding and gesturing to the wardrobe against the wall. Scarlet releases his shirt, going to change from her rodeo clothes and into a soft, cotton night gown. She climbs into the bed by James as Arthur takes off his gun belt, bandolier, boots, and hat, back still turned to her from when she was changing, before joining her. He sits against the headboard, rubbing her back as she cradles the pillow under her head.

When Arthur believes Scarlet is fully asleep, he slips from the bed, pulling his boots and gear back on. He glances back at them, Scarlet rolling over to face where he just was lying. He smiles when she pulls the pillow close to her as she settles back down, closing the door quietly behind him. John’s leaning on the wall in the hall, lighting a cigarette; he offers Arthur one. They step outside and glance towards the group camp, each taking slow drags, neither speaking.

Arthur snuffs our his cigarette when it’s short and nods to John who glances back at the hotel. He heads to the camp while Marston makes his way back inside to his and Abigail’s room. Arthur crouches and flops down on his bedroll, letting out a low groan. Hosea turns to face him, sitting up slightly.

“You’re not stayin the night again?” His tone is teasing, but there’s a real question in his words, watching the man he considers a son. Arthur shakes his head and undoes his gun belt and removes it and his bandolier again, setting them off to the side. He lies on his back and rests his hat over his eyes, a sign he doesn’t want to talk about it. Hosea respects his choice and lies back down as well. “Goodnight, Son.”

“Night, Hosea,” he mumbles from under his hat. He rests his hands on his chest, fingers laced together as he crosses his right ankle over his left.

Scarlet sends James into Arthur’s tent, talking softly with Hosea. They watch as the boy attempts to sneak into the tent, successfully tossing the gun belt and bandolier out of it and also out of Arthur’s reach. They hear Arthur yell as James presumably jumps on the poor, unsuspecting man. Scarlet laughs as her son walks out of the tent triumphantly, Arthur’s hat on his head. It’s too big and falls into his eyes but he merely upturns his face and beams at his mother.

“I got it, Ma! He missed when he tried to get it back. He tripped on the bedrolls,” the boy laughs, running behind Scarlet as Arthur emerges from the tent. Hosea smiles and pats Scarlet’s shoulder as he goes to get coffee.

“Mornin, Arthur,” she greets as he gets closer, she’s dressed in her rodeo gear again. She’s even got the neckerchief around her neck. His lips quirk up at that.

“Was that your idea or his? Sending your spawn to wake me?” His question is playful, sending a faux glare to James who only laughs louder and hides completely behind Scarlet.

“Both? Mine was to steal your hat, the waking you up was just a bonus,” she smiles at him, hand going behind her to rest on James’ shoulder, pulling him to her side and out from behind her.

“Well, he’s lucky I like him, his Momma too,” he teases, winking at the boy. James puts a hand on the top of the hat as Arthur lunges for him. Scarlet sidesteps as the man wraps his arm around her son and tickles him. She watches in amusement as James’ squealing laughter resounds around their small camp, making everyone stop and turn to them. Jack runs over and pulls on Arthur’s arm.

“No, no, stop tickling James, Uncle Arthur!” The younger boy cries, tugging harder on his arm. Arthur stops his assault on James and picks Jack up with his other arm, tickling him instead. James tries to catch his breath as Jack takes his place. “Not me! Uncle Arthur!” Jack squeals, laughter falling from him in waves. Arthur cedes his actions and sets the boy down, crouching and ruffling Jack’s hair before the boy runs over to Abigail, smiling.

The mothers share a look and Scarlet turns to James, nodding her head to Arthur. James takes the hat from his head and holds it out to the man. “He’s so good with children,” she comments. Abigail nods, eyes shifting from Scarlet to Arthur, smiling.

“Yeah, he is.”

“Here’s your hat back, Sir,” James says as Arthur straightens from his crouch. He takes his hat and smiles down at him, patting his shoulder with his free hand. He puts his hat back on and walks with James back to the rest of the group.

“We’re down to the last two events of the rodeo! First up we have pole bending! In this event, a horse and rider must run the length of the six posted poles, weavin between them, turn sharply around, run the length back weavin back through them,” the announcer calls as a non participant demonstrates how it’s supposed to be done correctly, though not as quickly as it’s to be done..

Scarlet is in the barn, triple checking Shasta’s saddle is tight enough so it, nor she will fall or slip off. The Buckskin nickers at her, bobbing his head in anticipation. She ties the excess strip of leather through the ring on the saddle and makes sure it’s tight. He paws the stall door as she turns and reaches into her side bag. She pulls out a carrot and Shasta’s ears prick forward, snorting at her as he sniffs at it.

“Ready, Shasta boy? I know I ain’t ridden you in awhile but let’s see if we can’t beat our time of eighteen seconds!” She encourages the large animal. He nibbles the end of the carrot and she rolls it so he can have the whole thing, palm flat as he takes it from her hand. “Good boy. Let’s go,” she takes his reins in hand and leads him out the stall and out to the corral with an opening.

“Y’all ready?” Arthur calls as Scarlet steers Shasta over to them. She nods and pats Shasta’s neck, clicking her tongue. He tosses his head and rears as she jumps into the saddle.

“Yep. This is a timed event but it’s more for how fast you can be, not how long you can stay on like the other three,” she explains as Shasta drops back down to all fours, pawing the ground restlessly. She shushes him and makes sure the knot in her reins are tight before resting it on the horn.

“Good luck, we’re cheerin fer ya, Lass!” Sean calls with a wave, headed over to the fence to watch. Jack, James, Arthur, and Abigail stay with her for a moment.

“Be safe, don’t scare us no more like yesterday!” Abigail scolds lightly, joking underlining her tone. Scarlet just tips her hat with a grin.

“No promises,” she replies and clicks her tongue, urging Shasta towards the opening where the other riders are waiting on their horses. James and Arthur follow beside her. “Happy birthday, James,” She leans down and presses a kiss to his cheek before sitting back up, gripping Arthur’s forearm before letting go as Shasta starts prancing in place. “Okay, Boy! Easy,” she soothes and spins him a few times before he trots closer to the group of five other riders.

They share stories of previous rodeos, their horses, and how for a couple of them, it’s their first time participating in this event. The other veteran riders try to give tips and tricks to get a faster time, Scarlet listens but doesn’t comment. She knows exactly how she and Shasta need to run this to get a good time. It helps that he’s got excess energy he needs to burn off.

Before Scarlet knows it, she’s the last one up. She walks Shasta to the opening, hesitating a moment. Her body language shifts and Shasta pins his ears forward, letting out a loud whinny as he rears. When he pulls his front feet down, he shoots with the power from his hind legs, jumping from the rear to propel himself forward. She holds his reins tight, restricting his head movements. “Faster, Boy! Faster! There ya go! Wait until we turn!” She cheers him on, timing her turn just right. Shasta spins on his front hooves, quickly spinning and weaving back through the six poles. Scarlet lets him have his head, the reins slack. He kicks up sand as he crosses the opening again, tossing his head with a neigh.

“Sixteen seconds!” The announcer shouts in disbelief, double taking at his platinum pocket watch. Shasta holds his tail and head high, snorting as he passes by the rest. Scarlet pats his neck, rubbing him down.

“That’s my boy!” She praises, letting him celebrate with the light trotting he’s doing. She laughs at his personality, shaking her head good-naturedly. “I gotta go get Fancy saddled, Shas. Let’s go.” The stallion prances his way back to the barn, heading straight for Fancy’s stall. The mare gets to her feet. She nickers and takes in the prancing Shasta, tail flicking around.

Scarlet slides off the Bucksin and ties his reins to the post by Fancy’s stall, quickly undoing the buckle and pulling off his saddle, setting it on his stall door. Fancy straightens her head when she sees the old brown saddle Scarlet reaches for on the hitching post.

“Ready for some barrels, Fancy?” She inquires, unbolting the stall. Fancy pushes it open and walks out, turning so her left side is facing Scarlet, watching her rider intently. Scarlet laughs and grabs her halter, pulling her head down to give her a kiss on her nose. “You’re more than ready, ain’tcha?” She lays a black and silver blanket down on her back before hefting the saddle over the mare’s back. Fancy stands patiently as she gets saddled, nipping lightly at Scarlet’s arm when the saddle is a little tight. Scarlet immediately loosens it and adjusts her stirrups up a little more.

She grabs the matching bit set and slips it over her ears and into her mouth, over her tongue without issue. “Let’s go girl,” she coos and walks the mare out to the group who have packed up their camp and are waiting with the wagon by an empty spot off to the side of the corral, Smoke and Shamrock harnessed in it.

Hosea approaches her on Silver Dollar, informing her that they’re ready to leave when she’s done with the event and collects her winnings from the previous day’s events and if she has any after the barrels. She agrees and climbs into the saddle, having to immediately hold back on the reins when Fancy tries to dart into the corral. She apologizes to Hosea and watches as the second rider runs into the corral and starts around the barrels. They’ve all gone to the left side first, she notes.

She’s waiting with Fancy at the opening when the fifth rider runs out, cheering his Thoroughbred. Scarlet pets Fancy’s neck and murmurs encouragement, giving out all the slack on the reins for Fancy.

The mustang darts up the middle and cuts to the right barrel first, whipping herself around it so close that Scarlet’s knee knocks into it. Just as soon as she’s there, she’s crossing to the left barrel, cutting diagonal slightly to round the farther side and turn left. She’s as close as on the first barrel, Scarlet cursing as she feels her knee make contact again, though the barrel doesn’t move. Fancy dashes back to the center and up to the farthest barrel, cutting around it from the right to the left, spinning her weight on her front hooves, shoving off and booking it back out the corral, snorting.

“Folks! That concludes the Rhodes rodeo! Please standby for a few moments while we tally the times here for the barrels, as well as the overall score from yesterday and today! Feel free to look around at the broncos and bulls we brought and talk with the participants,” the announcer states, the man leaving his post to go meet with the timers.

“Yes! Who is my good girl? You are, Fancy!” Scarlet cheers and drops from the saddle, leaving the reins on her neck as she grabs her horse’s halter. Fancy tosses her head as best she can without yanking away from her rider then nuzzles her face into Scarlet’s chest, nickering in delight. She leads the mare to her wagon, tying her to the back and thanking her friends as they congratulate her on her time as well as giving praise to Fancy, their excitement warming her heart.

“You didn’t knock over any barrels! It looked like you almost hit them,” Javier states, helping her into the back of the wagon to join the party. She leans against the side, one leg hanging off the back as she sits up.

“Oh my knee knocked them, no doubt. But the closer you get, the faster you can turn. It also helps that Fancy knows how to throw her weight to her front legs and whip her rear around. I’ve found that makes us turn a lot easier and a lot faster,” she replies, ruffling said mare’s mane. She snorts and turns to look at Shasta, who Arthur’s leading over. His saddle just resting on his back, not tied. “Well look at you, Cowboy. Didn’t think he liked anyone else save for James. How’d you manage to untie him without him bitin you?”

“A couple of the other riders were in the barn. I heard them sayin somethin about your horse and I found them plannin to make off with him. Or try to anyway. He didn’t like them more than he doesn’t like me I reckon. Ain’t that right, Shasta?” The stallion tosses his head and nudges Arthur, a silent request for him to walk closer so he can stand by Fancy. Arthur obliges the horse and ties him next to Fancy, climbing onto the other side of the wagon, mirroring Scarlet’s seated position. “Apparently they were mad you won the bronc events. By the sound of it you have the last two in the bag too.”

“Here’s to hopin then. My poor boy, those mean people wanted to steal you?” She croons to her stallion. He nickers and rests his head on her leg, nibbling at the boot of her bent foot. She giggles and brushes a hand down the piece of mane on his forehead, scratching behind his ears with her other hand. “Wanna go see with me?”

Arthur nods and slips off the wagon, holding a hand to help her down. She clicks her tongue twice and Shasta takes a few steps back, pulling his head from her lap. James crawls over Sean and Javier, much to their dismay, and jumps down, grabbing his mom’s hand.

“I wanna come too! Where we going?” He looks up between the adults, smile wide and eyes bright. Scarlet nods, happily agreeing, happy her son wants to go with her. Arthur sweeps his arm in front of him, smiling at James.

“After you,” he states, falling into step with the mother and son. They walk back to the corral, joining the small crowd that’s gathering around the far end where the announcer and timers are.

“Alright, is everyone here? Can everyone hear me?” There’s screaming and yelling from all around before it goes quiet, not even the crickets being heard. “Alright! For the fastest pole bendin and barrel racer, we have Scarlet O’Hara!” The announcement causes cheers to break out among the women and some men, the rest grumble or flat out boo the result. “Alright, alright! That’s enough. The winner for overall best time for all events is...Scarlet as well! Mrs. O’Hara, please come up here!” Scarlet and Arthur glance at each other at the mention of ‘Mrs’ but she shrugs it off and makes her way up to the front, James trailing behind, still holding her hand. Arthur hangs back a little before following and standing near the front, deciding it’d be best to be close if something breaks out.

“Is there anything you’d like to say? How did you stay on the broncs so long? How’s that mare of yours so fast?” The announcer floods her with questions, the crowd yelling they want to know as well. She smiles and shrugs, gently pulling James close to her.

“My mare, Fancy was my Ma’s horse. My Ma used to barrel race her too, so she knows how to race. The broncs were easy, it’s just like breaking a horse; a very angry an agitated horse. If you’re new to rodeos, you want to try your hand at breakin a couple horses, be they young ones you raise or wild ones you catch. Time yourself,” she suggests as she accepts the money stacks from the announcer, thanking him. “Thank you, Rhodes! It’s been fun,” she concludes and steps away with James. Arthur’s at her side in a heartbeat, hand on her elbow as he leans in.

“They’re watchin us. Let’s leave on the horses so they don’t follow the wagon back. We’ll put James on the wagon,” he whispers to her, draping his arm over her so to the onlookers it looks like he was praising her. She nods and puts James in front of them, telling him he’s going to ride back with Uncle John, Aunt Abigail, Jack, and the others.

When they reach the wagon, Scarlet quickly unties Shasta and Fancy while Arthur hoists James into the back, ordering him to stay down and close to the front. He explains the situation to the others who nod in agreement. Hosea, John, Javier, and Sean are to keep lookout; John and Abigail to drive back to Horseshoe Overlook while he and Scarlet lead any followers away from them. Javier and Sean climb on their respective horses, guns on their backs and loaded. Scarlet quickly saddles Shasta with the help of Sadie, using Arthur’s saddle, putting her saddle in the wagon. Sadie climbs onto the blood bay and rides on the left with Hosea. Scarlet turns Shasta for Arthur.

“Climb up-”

“You want me to ride Shasta?”

“Well, Fancy’s not one to listen to males, but if you wanna ride her, be my guest. Smoke is harnessed in with Shamrock, so it’s not like we can take them. We don’t have the time to switch Smoke for Shasta,” she sasses and throws the reins over both horses. Arthur sighs but nods, pulling himself onto Shasta’s back. She climbs on Fancy and leans close to Hosea, slipping him the last of the prize money she received. “Hold on to that til we get back?”

Before he can answer she’s pulling Shasta where the rein meets his halter, making him walk despite wanting to run and buck the unusual weight off his back. They watch and wait patiently until the wagon is out of sight, Scarlet turning to Arthur.

“Ya sure he’s not gon’ buck me?” He asks as he notes Shasta’s pinned back ears and light prancing.

“No, he won’t,” the stern reply is meant for Shasta, who flicks his ears forward before pinning them back again. “Don’t make me ask Fancy to have you behave, Shas,” she warns. Fancy lifts her head and stares at Shasta, almost as if waiting for him to disobey. The standardbred snorts in defeat and flicks his ears forward. “Good boy. Get used to Arthur an his weight. He might be ridin you for awhile dependin on this situation,” she adds, letting her horses know they might be needing to run. They both neigh in response and paw the ground, awaiting orders.

“We good?”

“Yeah, should be. Try an give him a command. Get him walkin,” she suggests and leans her forearms on the metal horn. Arthur squeezes his thighs against Shasta, clicking his tongue as he’s watched Scarlet do numerous times. Shasta snorts in annoyance but walks around Fancy for him. Scarlet praises her stubborn horse and reaches over to pat him as reward.

“Keep being good to Arthur an I’ll get you somethin nice,” she promises, turning Fancy to ride out the other side of town and around. “Arthur, keep close. There’s raiders in Lemoyne here and they don’t care who or what you are. An be ready to run at a moment’s notice. That’s all the chance we might have if ambushed. Shasta knows to go to Valentine if anythin happens. Fancy will go to camp first to see if anyone’s there then Valentine. She’ll cause a ruckus an get attention drawn to her if anythin happens to me. I also have a special whistle I use for her if I can’t speak. If I go down, get back to camp. Don’t try to rescue me, leave an come back with reinforcements,” she whispers as they ride through the town, both observing their surroundings.

“I’m not leaving you,” he grunts at her, looking at her to see her staring at him. She sighs and nods.

“Fine. Fire fight it’ll be if anythin does go wrong. But I warned you,” she points a finger at him before urging Fancy to a gallop. Shasta prances to the side a moment before riding beside Fancy at her pace, tossing his head.

The duo are just about at the Lemoyne line when two riders come on either side of them, riding too close for comfort. Fancy nickers in warning and Shasta snorts, kicking a little as the rider forces them to ride closer, Arthur and Scarlet’s knees rubbing as they ride.

“What are you two doin out here? You lost?”

“Hey, ain’t you that pretty lady who won a few of the events at our rodeo?” One of the two riders questions, leaning over close to her. She shakes her head and frowns, shifting her weight just enough for Fancy to catch her unspoken command.

“No? There was a woman who won events? That’s new,” she feigns innocence, stealing a glance to Arthur who clenches his jaw. She taps Shasta’s shoulder with her knee, a silent order for him to follow Fancy’s lead.

“Nice try, but there’s not a lot of ladies wearing black chaps and shirts with red fringe,” the second rider sneers, both raiders drawing their guns.

“How’s ‘bout you just give us your winnings for protection in Lemoyne?” The first rider offers, switching his reins to hold in his left, the same hand he’s holding his gun with. Scarlet nods and reaches into her shirt, pausing momentarily as shock and fear passes across her face.

“It appears I’ve already been robbed, fellers,” She lies and squeezes Fancy’s sides twice and the mare kicks out to her left, hitting the horse and making it collapse, causing the raider to fall and be rolled over. Shasta kicks to the right at the same time Fancy goes left, hitting the second raider off his horse completely.

“Run!” Scarlet orders, spurring Fancy and giving her her head. Arthur kicks Shasta and the Buckskin bucks for a second before charging after Fancy; his strides long, catching up to the mustang in no time.

They cross from Lemoyne back into New Hanover and Scarlet sighs, urging her horses to gradually slow up when their breathing becomes labored. Arthur shakes his head and turns to her.

“What the hell was that?” He asks, patting Shasta. Scarlet blows a raspberry and turns to make sure they’re not being followed.

“Lemoyne county Raiders. Bunch of right bastards they are. Unfortunately they’re a group that, I believe, fought for the south and they won’t put the past behind them; continuing the rebellion with kids they pick up. A bad lot, though not as bad as the O’Driscolls,” she answers, petting Fancy. The two horses toss their heads and snort, Shasta trying to pull the reins from Arthur’s hands. “Oi! Cut that out,” she swats Shasta’s ear when he tries to grab a rein again, startling him slightly so he prances away.

“I’ve got him. I’m not gettin thrown by the likes of him. I’ve dealt with worse,” he shrugs as he adjusts the reins so there’s less for Shasta to potentially get a hold of. Scarlet nods and they make their way back to camp, enjoying the other’s company.

“Hey! Who goes t’ere?” Sean calls out, gun ready to fire.

“It’s just us, ya Irish twat,” Scarlet calls back, accent coming out a bit. Arthur laughs lightly, covering it as a cough. They hitch the horses to one of the hitching posts and Scarlet makes an attempt to find Hosea; Dutch stops her with a whistle. She feels her face heat up as she turns to Dutch.

“Well what do we have here? Little miss rodeo queen?” He teases, holding his arms open as though he were presenting her like a prize. She rolls her eyes and nods slightly, smiling at him.

“Somethin like that. Did Hosea already talk to you?” She tries to change the subject, hoping he doesn’t want too much detail.

“No, why? Did somethin happen?”

“Wha-? No! I uhh just gave him the money I earned from the events I won an he won the majority of the bets placed against me to win. I was just gon’ give you half, kinda as a thanks for helpin me an takin not only myself but my son in too,” she quickly reassures the leader, eyes downcast. Dutch nods -she can see his shadow on the ground in front of her- and smiles, clapping her shoulder.

“That’s my girl,” Dutch praises, taking out a cigar to smoke. Scarlet giggles and shakes her head, bringing her gaze back to meet his.

“I’m not your girl. I don’t belong to anybody,” she quips, stepping back from him. “But I would like to change so holler if you need me,” She excuses herself.

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sad-sweet-cowboah · 6 years

Text

The Beauty of a Friday Night

Summary: Arthur is becoming bored of being locked up in your house, and asks to go out.

Warnings: None, just fluff :)

“Hey.”

It was midafternoon on a Saturday, the sun shining bright and the TV on at a decent volume. You’d been focused on it, just a simple prime time show that wouldn’t have caught your interest otherwise if you weren’t so damn bored. Despite your interest, it failed to capture you completely as you’d been zoning in and out of it for the past fifteen minutes.

Arthur had been mostly quiet today, following your actions without much to say, up until that moment.

“Hmm?” you hummed, turning to look at him.

Artemis was curled in his lap as he lounged comfortably, his one hand idly stroking her soft fur as she contently purred. He met your gaze. “Can we go out?”

You blinked at the question. “Go out?” you repeated.

He nodded, shifting his attention down to Artemis. “It’s just…I’ve been here for weeks now, haven’t explored much aside from you takin’ me into town a couple of times, plus when I brought back that deer. And waitin’ on you to come home from work is startin’ to lose its charm.” He sighed. “S’like I was cooped up in camp after bein’ kidnapped by the O’Driscolls. I was startin’ to go nuts.”

Oh. You bit your lip in thought. The only way to keep him safe and secure was to keep him here, since he by all means should not and did not exist in this world. If you let him have free reign, there was no telling on what trouble he could get himself into. You knew how his temper could be on a delicate trigger from playing him, thankful that you were not on the receiving end of it yourself. You made him store his weapons, dress him the way you wanted, but you couldn’t change him completely. Thirty-odd years of nineteenth century customs were seared into his very being.

Yet you knew it wasn’t fair to him. Arthur wasn’t some house pet to keep locked up, despite him accepting it without much of an argument in the early days. He kept himself busy and entertained with the harmless activities in your house, to the point where he could pass off as a regular person. You often thought about allowing him to roam, yet immediately retracted the thought when a little voice told you that anything that could go wrong would go wrong.

That was the worst case scenario. If anything he’d just explore out of his mere curiosity, hitting up the bar for a couple of drinks, wander to the local burger joint for a meal, and find a random field to sketch the various plants and woodland creatures he’d come across, maybe even go to the stables at the edge of town and immerse himself with the horses. He was such a gentle man at heart, and you knew that he was more likely to get lost in the woods rather than cause trouble, but even then that was impossible after proving how excellent his path finding skills were.

“Y/N?”

He roused you from your train of thought, and you focused on him again. He had a look of innocent curiosity on his face, awaiting your answer. You decided right then and there. “Okay, let’s go out.”

After a quick shower and dressing yourself in a pretty blouse with some nice jeans, you led him to your car. You could see the excitement in his eyes as you began to drive off. He asked where exactly you were taking him, and you didn’t want to admit you were formulating a plan as you spoke. First, you’d take him to the local steakhouse.

It’d taken you about ten minutes to reach said restaurant, the day still bright and still somewhat early for dinner, yet the parking lot was moderately packed. You parked and brought him inside, hearing his chuckle of amusement as he examined the western-style décor that hung from the walls and ceiling. Photos and paintings of the Old West, mock portraits of wanted posters, longhorns, old wagon wheels and even a saddle here and there, the leather dull and worn with age.

You were quickly seated, menus placed in front of you. The smile on Arthur’s face quickly wiped away when he eyed the prices.

“Sixteen dollars for a steak?” he exclaimed. “What is it made of, diamond?”

“Sixteen dollars isn’t much of anything these days,” you explained, watching his brow furrow in confusion. “I know, that’s the economy for ya.”

He grumbled something too low for him to hear, his eyes scanning across the menu. “Christ…I ain’t even heard of some of these meals.”

“Stick to the simple stuff,” you instructed, reaching over to point. “Chicken’s easiest. You can get it in a salad or a quesadilla. Or just breaded strips with French fries, if you’d like.”

From the look on his face you could tell he had no idea what you were talking about. “Uh…why don’t you pick something for me?” he asked.

You couldn’t help but to giggle at his confusion, noting the slight pink that graced his cheeks. You should have taken him out more, which was apparent now. “A New York strip steak with a vegetable medley. Delicious.”

“Sounds fancy,” he said with a small chuckle. “But if you recommend it, I’ll give it a try.”

You smiled. You figured it’d be a night to spoil him a little with the fruits of the modern world. The waitress soon arrived and you placed your order, getting some soda for the both of you – two Cokes – and you had to explain that they did not actually contain any cocaine like it used to.

The two of you dipped on your bubbly drinks for a while, making casual conversation, Arthur occasionally asking a question. He appreciated the setting of the restaurant as it reminded him of his time, even if it was fake. It was beginning to feel normal, he seemed to fit right in here. Twenty minutes later your food arrived, and you saw Arthur’s eyes widen at the size of the portions.

You giggled at his reaction. Despite the meals he’s had at your house, nothing would prepare him for the mammoth helpings of restaurant food. Hell, it was probably the biggest meal he ever had in one sitting. You yourself had ordered a chicken quesadilla, beginning to help yourself to the sauces that accompanied your meal as Arthur just stared at his.

“Arthur?”

He blinked, glancing up to you. “Sorry, just…never seen anything so appetizin’ before. Wanted to admire it a bit.”

Something told you if he was from your time, he’d probably be one of those food buffs on Instagram. “Staring at it’s only half the fun. Try it,” You reached over to pour some steak sauce onto the slab of meat. “Especially with some of that.”

Arthur didn’t answer, instead picking up his silverware to cut a small piece off, placing is carefully in his mouth to chew. You watched as his thoughtful expression turned into that of a delight. He chewed slowly, as if savoring it before finally swallowing.

“Did you like it?”

“It’s one of the best things I ever tasted!”

The next half hour was spent watching Arthur in amusement as he marveled the meal in front of him, claiming that even the saloon in Saint Denis could make anything so tasty. He finished it all and even asked to taste your quesadilla, which he surprisingly enjoyed.

After finishing up at the restaurant, the two of you walked back outside. It was still fairly early, and you considered the other options in the area. There had been talk about a new movie that had come out. Arthur was certainly intrigued by them, knowing that in his time it was still a very new concept. He’d mentioned multiple times that “movies” in his day were just silent stills that were just minutes long. Media had come a long way, and he definitely appreciated it. He’d gone through about half of your DVD collection at home, completely encompassed by how vividly clear and smooth the films were.

You’d gone to the theater next, finding it a little more packed since it was a late Friday afternoon. After ordering some snacks, you settled yourself within the middle of the theater. As the movie progressed, you couldn’t help but notice the look of pure amazement seeing it on the colossal screen before the two of you. Eventually he began to grow comfortable, leaning back into his seat and casually stringing his arm around your shoulders, a smile playing at the edge of his lips as he occasionally munched on a piece of popcorn.

It was very tempting to tease him in the darkness of that theater, something you secretly have wanted to do for a while. Yet you decided to save it for another time to let him enjoy this experience, and for you to be captivated by the movie.

It seemed like forever when the movie ended, and the two of you left, stepping into the warm evening air, beautiful pastels painted across the sky as the sun hung low on the horizon. It wasn’t even night yet, and Arthur was eager to see where you’d take him next.

You got into the car, full of thought. Your mind couldn’t decide on one thing: take him to the mall, or maybe the bar. The bar he’d be familiar with; and probably would end up drinking himself silly. Oh, you could recall that fun mission you had him go on to get drunk in Valentine with Lenny, and it was a quick decision against it, at least for now.

As you began your drive, you aimlessly rode through town, thinking of what else to do. You saw signs for the park, and something in your mind clicked. You quickly looped around to find a parking spot, pulling in just at the edge. You stared out into the green fields, the trees and shrubs dark emerald against the hazy purple sky.

You stepped out and he followed suit, rounding to you as you took in a deep breath of fresh air. The park was a good place to lose time in, or even just to kill time. It was fairly large; at least a good thirty acres or so, with many walkways looping around a large pond, others disappearing into more woodsy areas.

“Where are we?” he asked, looking around curiously.

“The park,” you answered, and reached out to take his hand. “Come on.”

He followed you without hesitation as his fingers laced between yours. You led him toward the entrance, wandering into the green landscape as the air filled with the peaceful sounds of crickets. Neither of you said anything; it seemed as if Arthur was enjoying the scenery as much as you were.

There were others around, some people walking their dogs, joggers, and even a handful of couples chattering amongst themselves as they passed by the two of you. You found yourselves walking alongside the pond, the water shining under the golden lamps that lit the path before you. A fountain placed in the middle disturbed its glassy surface. A pair of swans floated together nearby the shore. It seemed to be a textbook romantic moment, the atmosphere perfect.

“This is…pretty nice,” he murmured to you, his eyes on you as you met his even gaze. “So quiet out here. Reminds me of the nights I’d go off by myself, campin’ under the stars.”

“There’s a hill out here that’s perfect for stargazing, if you wanna come see it.” You responded.

He beamed. “Lead the way.”

He didn’t have to say anything else as you quickened your pace, almost pulling him towards a more covered area of the park. The sky darkened above you as you disappeared underneath a thick canopy of maple and oak, although you knew the path by heart. It’d only taken a moment or so that you’d emerge on the other side, navigating down another path. He remained quiet behind you, his patience only a thin veil over his growing excitement as he followed.

It’d been only a five minute journey when a grassy knoll made its appearance. Thankfully no one else was around, meaning you had the area to yourselves as you tugged him toward the top. There were no trees surrounding, thus leaving the sky in a complete view. The sun had long since disappeared into the horizon, the last pastels of light dying slowly to make way for the stretch of indigo. Stars twinkled faintly one by one above you.

You bent down to sit in the soft grass, and Arthur followed suit, sitting in an all too familiar position to drape his arm across his propped knee lazily, leaning back to stare into the sky, like a child lost in splendor. The smile on his face made your heart flutter.

Once again, no words were exchanged. Between the beauty of the night and the presence of this wonderful man, words weren’t needed. You were glad to have done this, and everything beforehand. A small part of you wished you’d done it sooner, to have Arthur fully enjoy the modern world whilst reminiscing about his own. Now you knew what to do on Friday nights.

You remained for a while, watching as the bright stars formed their respective constellations. You were thankful it was a clear night; not a cloud to obscure the view. The full moon was bright, bathing the two of you in a silvery light.

He turned to look at you, the smile never leaving his face. He reached for your hand, wrapping his thick fingers around your palm. His warm grip was comforting and soft. “Y/N…” he began quietly.

“Yes, Arthur?”

He didn’t reply, only leaning toward you. Meeting him halfway, your lips eagerly resting against his. The kiss was as soft as his touch, his other hand making its way to your chin to hold you there. A long moment passed before he pulled back only an inch to whisper, “Thank you.”

#Arthur Morgan #Arthur Morgan x reader

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loyalflutist · 5 years

Text

History Repeats Itself (Rem x Deuce, slight Machina x Ace)

Rating: Teen and Up Audience Archive Warning: N/A Words: 4,183 Summary: After hundreds of years from the great war in Fodlan, a new era of peace has arrived. However, history repeats itself to an extent when it comes to relationships. Machina and Rem find themselves thrust into Garreg Mach Monastery as transferred students from Suzaku Peristylium in Orience, facing their teachers who they learn are from an all-too-familiar background.

A/N: Eh.... Forgot to upload this up here. Still working on my Edeleth stuff, so for now, enjoy another Rem x Deuce OS! Wanted to pull in the concepts from Fire Emblem: Three Houses and use it with this pairing. Might plan out a longer series with a genuine crossover of these two series.... but I digress.

---

Garreg Mach Monastery is known for its peculiar history. Hundreds of years have passed since the time of the Great War between the three nations in Fodlan. The Adrestian Empire, the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, and the Leicester Alliance squared off in a vicious conflict that spans roughly five years. Legends of an Ashen Demon and an Adrestian emperor, their actions left marks upon the land. The results? A new era of peace.

However, history is known to repeat itself.

The existence of Crests still exists to this day with discriminations and olden lifestyles rule over the population. Those Who Slither in the Dark are still present, their experimentations and foul play disrupt the country. Civilian unrest rumbles society as political corruption began to unveil itself to the public.

It was never about the pen beating the sword. It was those who wield the sword that decides who would wield the pen.

“Rem? Are you okay?”

Rem Tokimiya blinked. She found Machina Kunagiri staring at her, his concern bubbling right above the surface. The two students were spotted inside the carriage. Having hailed from a respective part of Orience, the Dominion of Rubrum, their travel long and arduous since the early morning, it was no surprise that her childhood friend acts this way. No… Perhaps he asked not about their exhaustive state. She moistened her lip and glanced through the glassed window. Pine trees sprinkled with shades of darkness by the sunset’s orange rays crawled by as the horses continued their throttles. Not far from their destination, the famous monastery stood miles away, its huge structure both inviting and intimidating.

“…I’m okay.”

Dressed in the new school uniform provided by the monastery weeks ahead, the student unconsciously rubbed the back of her hand.

“I’m really okay.”

“Rem…”

Machina extended his hand but stopped halfway. He stiffened his lips. The young boy slowly retracted from Rem and felt an additional weight plop on his shoulders. Machina could not bear to look at his friend’s eyes. Then, under his breath, he whispered,

“I’m sorry.”

After all, he could do nothing but watch the horrors that befell upon her when they were young. The war between the Milites Empire and Dominion of Rubrum wasn’t enough. Those Who Slither in the Dark had strong ties with the Empire’s leaders. How the two managed to interact and align their ideals was a mystery. Not that it mattered to the male student. His jawlines were outlined, Machina gazing through the opposite window.

He witnessed the horrors of their parents dying by the soldiers’ hands. What he did not forget was the horror of watching his friend undergo experimentations to implant a Crest into her body. Cruel experimentation devised to test the hypothesis of a person not only not from nobility, but from another country altogether and their adaptation with the Crests was given the green light by the two communities. Those Who Slither in the Dark wish to rise their power in another country. The Milites Empire hopes to use this to their advantage for the current warring state.

Machina and Rem were two of the many unfortunate souls, and they were the sole survivors of the non-consensual surgeries.

Recounting those days always caused a shudder to run down his spine. He dryly swallowed, his elbow now rested on the carriage’s door, and pressed his chin against his palm. Occasionally, Machina would glance over at Rem. His friend still sat upright, the black magus drumming her fingertips along the uniformed skirt. A cough ripped through her tranquil state. Machina nearly bolted up from his seat as the female covered her mouth, a violent fit shaking her entire figure.

“R-Rem!”

She shook her head in the midst of her hacking. It went away after a few seconds, but not without consequences. Rem leaned back against her seat, breaths fast, the smeared blood present from the corner of her opened lips. Machina immediately took out his navy handkerchief and offered it.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Stern tonality trickled in his words with hopes of some honesty from Rem. Rem simply nodded after wiping. He chewed his lip, retrieving the soiled cloth, his stares becoming dagger-like.

“Why are you still—”

He stopped himself. Then, his eyes softened and felt tears welt from them. Machina glanced away with a silent grimace. When he spoke no more, the female softly called out to him.

“Machina?”

No response. Rem didn’t push him to speak. A moment of observation told her plenty about his reactions. She stifled a long exhale and reverted her gaze elsewhere.

‘ He’s beating himself up again… ‘

And there was nothing she could do to stop him. (The last time she did, he unintentionally hurt her in the process.) Machina had crawled back to their past once again. Back to the time when they were held prisoners by the two organizations. Outcries and screams echoed in the back of his skull. The knives that plunged into his friend’s arms without anesthetics, the blood transplants, the forceful insertion of a Crest into her chest cavity… Rem was always the one to save him, and she always did. Even now she’s hiding the side effects from the surgeries to alleviate his guilty conscious. The handkerchief trembled in time within his whitened grip. The rest of their rides were basked in utter silence.

-----

Two hours ticked by and nightfall switched with daylight. Stars shone in the clear sky, the flames from lamps flickered in-sync, and the lack of students notified their abnormal arrival. Despite the lonesome arrival, they were greeted by a Gatekeeper. The young man saluted to the two students, his eyes brimming with excitement.

“Greetings, Rem and Machina! I hope your trip from Orience went well.”

“It was,” Rem clasped both of her hands, her smile shining to the security guard. “It was worth the trip.”

“Excellent. I was afraid the both of you would never come since it has gotten late.”

“Don’t be silly,” Machina motioned. “No matter the time of the day, we’ll come here.”

“Aren’t you both in good spirit,” the older male chuckled. “Now that you’re both here, I’m happy to inform that your assignment to a house has been finalized too by Lady Flayn.”

Machina crossed his arms and faintly hummed.

Garreg Mach Monastery’s Officers Academy was known well for providing resources and a community for students from all three nations in Fodlan. As the two were foreigners, they would be placed by random chance into the three houses. Their alliance would lie in whatever nation they belonged to. Even though Fodlan was known well for its unification, the three countries were still divided based on their ideologies and people. It was literally the same situation as Orience minus the current conflict it undergoes. The only difference is the lack of a unified academy from Orience, the academies all under a nation’s flag.

The Gatekeeper looked at Machina.

“Machina, you have been assigned to the Blue Lions House.”

“Huh… I guess we’re both—”

“Rem, you have been assigned to the Black Eagles House.”

“Wait, what!?”

The male student felt his posture falter. Ever since they were young, they were inseparable. After the incidence with their past traumas, Machina and Rem stuck closer to each other, always as a pair… Though this was more so from the male’s dependency. He straightened his back and coughed audibly into his fist.

“You’re telling me that we’ll be separated?”

“I… I suppose so.”

“But why?!”

“Please, don’t ask me!” the older male wildly pushed his hands outward, beads of sweat flying out of his head. “This is all under the discretion of Lady Flayn!”

“I demand that one of us transfer to the other house!”

“You can try talking to her, but… I don’t think she’ll change her mind.”

“I’ll try!” Machina glanced over at the flabbergasted Rem… though flabbergasted for reasons other than class placement. He huffed. “I will speak to the archbishop. I will be back soon!”

And off he goes… with a cloud of smoke too behind his heels! It was almost comical had it not been for the circumstance that prompted his dash. Both the adult and student stared in awe after Machina. They exchanged looks. Then, a forced grin bore on their faces. Words would never be able to describe their feelings about this.

“I suggest you visit your classroom,” the Gatekeeper said. “Knowing that Lady Flayn wouldn’t make any immediate plans, you might as well familiarize yourself. I also believe the professor is still in the classroom.”

Rem tilted her head. “At this time?”

He nodded.

“Yes… her name is Deuce. She’s a new professor here at the monastery.”

“She is?”

“Indeed. It’s her first time teaching, but I’ve heard many good things from the other professors,” the Gatekeeper cupped his chin. “If I recall… she’s from Orience too like the other professor.”

An imaginary exclamation point popped over Rem’s head.

‘ Someone from Rubrum?! ‘

Learning of this new fact urged the student to visit the lecture hall; a quick thanks and farewell were given before leaving. Of course, a bit of time passed as Rem found herself losing track of her place in the large academy. Vague directions on top of the dark environment hardly posed clarity. (There was an incident with crashing into a wall, but that hardly warrants an explanation.) The student, fortunately, found the premise… with a little help from a white hooting companion.

Rem popped her head into the empty classroom. Well— Somewhat empty. There was a petite brunette standing in front of the lecture hall. The young girl, dressed in a familiar dark uniform from Suzaku Peristylium and vermillion cape, drew a couple of arrows and notes on the blackboard. Light taps and scratches emitted from the chalky utensil with occasional pauses. She didn’t seem to notice the brown-haired newcomer.

‘ She’s wearing the peristylium uniform… ‘ Rem mentally shook her head. ‘ She can’t be the professor he spoke about. She's too young. ‘

Perhaps there were a couple of students that came from Rubrum this academic term. It was worth noting that some students from all four nations had transferred out of the country for various reasons. Most of them were for a political movement. Some were due to familial circumstances. Others were a little more on the enigmatic side. In Rem’s and Machina’s case, they were transferred for a multitude of reasons. Could this be the same for this young girl?

“Hello?” The brunette’s hand froze and glanced over her shoulder. Seeing as how she didn’t move from her position, Rem decided to approach the girl. “I’m looking for the professor. Do you know where she is?”

“That’s me.”

The speaker's tone was so soft, she could have mistaken it for a whisper. Rem blinked.

“I… I didn’t quite catch what you just said.”

“I’m the professor.”

“…”

When greeted with silence, the brunette sighed. She placed the chalk onto the nearby desk and properly looked at the student.

“My name is Deuce. I’m the professor for the Black Eagles House,” the professor finally cracked a smile. “I’ve been expecting you. Though I must say, I’m a little surprised to know there are more students arriving from Rubrum. It might be a small world after all.”

“You’re so young to be a teacher.”

Rem, after much silence, blurted with unintentional disregard for the instructor’s comments. There was a pregnant pause. Eventually, Deuce lightly scratched her flushed cheeks in response, her eyes briefly shifted elsewhere.

“People say that all the time to me.”

“You must be very smart.”

“I don’t think so,” the youngster now giggled and frantically waved her hand. “The archbishop must have seen my talent in music and pitied me… or maybe it’s because I’m not from Fodlan…”

“Um, you studied in Suzaku Peristylium, right?”

“Yes, until last year when I transferred here with some of my classmates.”

Rem clasped her hands behind her back, leaning forward. Due to their proximity, Deuce found herself unconsciously examining the girl’s face. Those long eyelashes, those pair of curious eyes that twinkled with optimism, those soft lips— Heat burst into Deuce’s head. It took a great effort to resist the temptation to hide. The teacher placed a hand over her chest, her heart rapidly thumping. Just what is this feeling that tugs at her heartstrings?

‘ Mother never told me about this. Am I sick? ‘

Unlike the brunette, Rem was not oblivious to the source of her reaction. She giggled. How innocent of her teacher. It would be best she holds back the teasing and gets back to their original topic.

“What class were you from?”

It appears that it had snapped Deuce back to reality. The pink tinges lightened as the ex-cadet lowered her hand.

“Class Zero.”

“Class Zero…?! It’s no wonder why you were chosen to be a teacher!”

“Is it? I didn’t know it was that important.”

Rem immediately grabbed ahold of the girl’s arms and gently shook her.

“How could you not know? Class Zero was always known as a legend… No one has ever spoken about being from that class!”

“That’s not what Mother said…”

“Mother?”

“It’s a long story. I might have to tell you about sometime tomorrow.”

Their exchanges were brief as nightfall hardly allowed much time to spare. However, the two girls instantly clicked. Could it be from their shared homeland? Or could it be due to their age? Whatever it was, what Rem could attest to is the comfort she finds in her new professor… even if she is a little younger than expected.

Deuce was left in the classroom to complete her preparation for tomorrow’s lesson. Although Machina came running towards her with tears flowing down his cheeks about the inability to transfer later on that night, Rem secretly thanked Flayn for keeping them in their respective houses. It never hurts to have a breather from her overprotective friend. Besides, after getting to meet Deuce, she wouldn’t want to transfer to another house.

-----

The next day came quicker than ever for Machina and Rem after settling in. It was a whole new setting to experience. Students had flourished the monastery’s grounds. Some of the guards and warriors that patrol the premise seem to be from the same class as Deuce.

“It’s nice to find some folks like us!” Nine playfully slugged Machina’s shoulder. “Ya know, we gotta stick together, yo!”

“Nine, could you please leave the students alone?” Queen adjusted her glasses with a stack of files at hand. “We have to deliver these to Seteth.”

“Oi, why do I have to go with you anyway?”

“I hope you understand we have to report our results to Lady Flayn.”

“Ugh… of course… Well, hope ya’ll have fun with your new class.”

Though they arrived a month into the school year, the students were approachable and welcoming to the newcomers.

It turns out… Deuce might be one of the best professors out there. Young as she may be, her intelligence, coupled with the battle knowledge gained from her time in Orience and Fodlan, made her a valuable faculty. Many students, though older than her, generally find her loving and humble to an extent.

“I thought she would be clueless,” one of the students whispered over to Rem’s direction. “Turns out, she’s not all bark. Kinda scary.”

Scary? Rem didn’t think so. Throughout the days that came to pass, she had not seen the young girl raise her voice at her students. Exceptions were made when they were out on the practical field trips, but they were from protecting her students rather than to belittle them. Still… despite her gentle demeanor, the status of being one of the youngest professors teaching at Garreg Mach Monastery shook the students to their core. Deuce was an abnormality alongside her classmates from Class Zero.

As for Machina… turns out, he’s got a young teacher too by the name of Ace. His professor has a similar background as Deuce, albeit slightly different from the way he handled his classroom. He wasn’t as soft nor much of an introvert as his comrade. Ace was known to be calm and collected, but his emotions ran deeper than his reasoning. This caused Machina and Ace to butt heads at times despite their associations. Still, Machina has a newfound respect for the blonde. Ace was never one to mislead his new student in the right direction.

Days soon turned to weeks, and weeks soon turned to months… Varying seasons flew by at a steady pace. Rem and Machina were able to make new friends. They’ve become acquainted with members from Class Zero. They were able to get closer to their professors. Teatime was exchanged, their past traumas unraveled to the prestigious instructors. Rem could never forget the response she got Deuce after explaining her reason for being in the Officers Academy.

“I was hoping to find a way to live with the Crest inside of my body. I don’t know how much longer I have left to live, but I came here to find out how. It would be better to find a way to stop my coughing fit too.”

“Rem…” the brunette grabbed ahold of her hands, squeezed them, her voice having dipped into a broken whisper. “I promise, I will find a way. I promise from the bottom of my heart.”

The same could be said for Machina and Ace. Ace was surprised to hear that the young male struggled to cope with his PTSD. Someone like Ace and Deuce, who were vigorously trained as child soldiers for Arecia Al-Rashia, never understood the disorder. This was a first for the card wielder.

“I couldn’t protect her!” Machina hollered and weakly shoved Ace. “They should’ve chosen me first! Why!? Why did they choose her!? Why did they spare me!? WHY!?”

“Machina…”

It would be a lie to say Ace didn’t tear up. He had to embrace Machina with hopes of keeping the student from having an irreversible meltdown.

Both teachers were there for their students, especially for Rem and Machina. It felt as though they had strengthened their bonds. The connection they had for one another was as deep as it could get.

For Machina, his bonds grew even stronger with Ace after spending time caring for a baby chocobo with his teacher, their lifestyles slowly formatted to that of parental care for the creature.

“Us? Like parents? You could say that,” Ace said without much thought. “I think Machina would fit the mom role well.”

“Aceeeee—! What are you trying to imply here!?”

Rem finds it amusing to see her childhood friend, who was always so clingy to her, let loose… especially at the cost of his embarrassed features. His red face was a comedic sight to see. Yet from a mile away, one could tell that Machina didn’t mind the implications. Machina did confess during their time at the monastery about his romantic interest towards his young instructor.

What about Rem and Deuce? It was also clear as day that Rem was crushing hard on Deuce… Very hard, in fact. Machina felt bad watching his childhood friend struggle with an oblivious professor like Deuce. Whenever they were out on a date, Deuce had always seen it as if they were friends. Regardless, their relationship became clearer in the following month. It was a bit more dramatic than what the two males had.

“Rem, look out!”

“!”

A flash of white beam was shot at the cadet’s direction. Rem, her bloodied daggers having been pulled out of a bandit’s body, found herself as its target. At least, until Deuce slammed against Rem with her shoulder. The rough shove caused the injured student down onto the ground. An “oof” slipped out of her cracked lips as she slammed face-first onto the wet greenery.

“ARGH!”

Rem snapped her head up, the bruises beginning to form from her cheek, her eyes widen at the unfolding scenario. Deuce’s silver flute had been tossed to the side. The teacher curled into a fetal position, her hands impressing themselves onto her chest. One of the faculty, Queen, rushed to her aid.

“She’s been burnt!”

The self-proclaimed secretary cast Heal as another student tried to flop their professor onto her back. Deuce’s facial features were twisted, the pain all-too prominent. Hearing her whimper surged forth newfound energy into the sickly student. Rem got up onto her two feet. The red daggers were readjusted, the female immediately kicked forward to the assaulter.

It was all a blur. Rem’s vision was completely red. She was not one to fall under the spell of vengeance nor unnecessary violence, but something had snapped in her the moment her professor succumbed to the attack. A battle cry erupted from her throat, the daggers slashing at the enemy in a flurry. What should’ve been a simple mission from Lady Flayn to defend a village from bandits turned into a bloody mess.

Crimson stained her school’s uniform, the magma-red blood splattered onto her exposed skin. The tips of her blade sunk into the tough bandit’s armors. No steel could prevent the magically infused weapon from piercing into its thick layer. Rem tore the weapon away as she lost breath. Then, she fell to her knees, her vision beginning to narrow.

‘ No, no! Not right now! ‘

Rem stabbed her daggers into the soft earth. She lowered her head, her eyes squinted, and blood beginning to drip from her chin. A coughing fit shook her entire achy figure. The Crest was taking a toll on her frail body. It provided her strength on the battlefield, making her a one-man army, but at what cost?

‘ Deuce… Deuce! ‘

The young student struggled back to her feet. She slowly dragged herself towards the fallen bard. Deuce, who acted as support for their battles, was unconscious. Queen shot a glance at the wounded student.

“Deuce is fine if you’re wondering,” she mumbled. “The laser didn’t break through her muscles. Some luck she has…”

Seven from nearby immediately caught the wobbly student. Arm over her shoulders, the tall soldier directed another Class Zero member, Trey, to cast a healing spell onto Rem. Though Rem managed to keep herself awake throughout the rest of the day, Deuce wasn’t that fortunate. The student had mostly healed from her bruises and lacerations in the aftermath. The same could be said for her teacher. However, the professor was in a coma for a week.

“Oh, Deuce…”

Completely dropping the formalities, Rem sat by her side on the seventh day, her hands clasped together into prayer. She watched the same scene happen over and over. Chest rising and falling at even intervals. Occasional twitches from her fingers and brows. The silence that hung in the air between the two girls. Rem lowered her head and wept tearlessly.

“When will you wake up?”

If anything…

“How could I tell you how much I love you?”

As expected, there was no reply.

Time ticked by until the sun began to set. Machina and Ace came by, their visits brief and acting as a reminder to return to the dormitory. Rem had gotten up from her seat. However, compared to the previous times where she would say her farewells and leave the premise, she found herself hovering over the brunette’s face.

“…”

It was the heat of the moment. Rem didn’t think twice about her actions, letting her instincts run freely. She closed her eyes and planted a kiss on her professor’s lips. Those luscious, soft lips were as delicate at Deuce was. Guilt settled into Rem’s stomach once she retracted. Heat overwhelmed her head as she bit the bottom of her lip. Kissing her professor was already overstepping her boundary… How could she do that?! She didn’t even properly proclaim her love to Deuce!

Right when she was about to pull away, Deuce reached up to caress Rem’s cheeks. Then, as if on cue, the brunette returned a kiss of her own.

“!!!”

She couldn’t even call out to her teacher’s name. Rather— She was thunderstruck! Rem opened her mouth and closed it like a fish gasping for water. Deuce, on the other hand, could not resist a weak giggle from her end.

“Why are you acting that way, Rem?”

“I—I… I-I mean! You’re… You’re awake!”

“Rem…”

“I’m so happy! I didn’t know what to do if you haven’t awakened—”

“Rem.”

“Yes?!”

Deuce eventually reached up to pat the flustered girl’s head. With a smile of her own, the professor whispered,

“I love you too.”

Turns out, Deuce finally sorted out her feelings during her comatose period. A week in a dream-like state gave her plenty of time to straighten her thoughts out. As she soothed the crying student, the ex-cadet thought back to the times of history from Fodlan. This situation eerily reminded her of a certain couple found in legends... A flashback of Byleth Eisner and Edelgard von Hresvelg transparently overlapped the two girls. Not all of history was to be repeated, but in this case, the blooming relationship of a teacher and a student from special circumstances began anew.

#final fantasy #final fantasy type-0 #fan fiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fic #os #oneshot #one shot #loyalflutist #rem x deuce #rem tokimiya #deuce #Machina Kunagiri #ace #machina x ace

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holycalum · 6 years

Photo

vex c.h.

word count: 3.8k+

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, swearing, drugs refs, but it’s actaully not bad at all

summary: the one where calum’s the most™ annoying but it’s cus he’s in looooove (is tht enough??)

a/n: HI yeah i know i haven’t posted in years because um (: i’ve been the most busy ever. i have so many things i wanna post i have like million half written things and ideas i just don’t have the energy to finish or start i know its bad i miss writing. anyways i hope ya like it i know i suck at writing the good ending parts where the stuff happens but i’m trying. send me requests pls it might take a while but ill defo get to them! love yall the most!

“can you please shut the fuck up and stop chewing ice for like, five seconds?” “first of all, i have an iron deficiency, calum.” you sneer, “you know i’m sensitive about it.” “you know i don’t care about your blood iron content, right (y/n)?” calum glares at you, angrily sipping his drink. ��maybe you’re pregnant.” you almost scream, “stop don’t say that,” you pat your stomach, “i don’t want to be pregnant.” “cal, it’s your turn to bowl,” ashton says, flopping down next to calum on the couch opposite you. “i don’t wanna fuckin’ bowl,” calum grumbles, crossing his arms and sinking back into the couch. ashton scrunches his eyebrows, “cal, it was your idea-“ “(y/n) should take my turn, maybe it’ll help her unborn child be a champion bowler.” he mused, making ashton do a double take. “honestly,” ashton squeaks, “i don’t wanna know, (y/n), are you pregnant?” “thought you didn’t wanna know?” you joked, placing two hands on your stomach. “no, i’m not, calum’s just being a bitch.” “m’ not.” he counters, “it’s just your pregnant lady hormones are rubbing off on me, i’m surprised we’re all not crying.” ashton just sits up slowly, backing away from the couch. “it’s just, fuck you calum.” you roll your eyes, leaning back into the couch. you turn your body away from calum, focusing your attention on the scoreboard. “you’re doing really badly.” “can’t show up your bowling prodigy child,” calum hardly misses a beat, as annoying as he was being, he was on fire tonight. “wonder who the dad is.” you pull at your hair, “oh my fucking god,” you want to throw a bowling ball at his head, “it’s like you want me to be pregnant, you’re insinuating i’m getting dicked down enough to be pregnant.” “big word, gotta set a good example for the baby...” calum trails off, trying not to laugh at his constant pestering. “are you?” “wouldn’t be your business if i was, or if i wasn’t.” “then who am i to believe you’re not pregnant,” calum shrugs, finishing his drink. calum’s neck looked like prime real-estate for your fists, you had never been so annoyed with him in your time knowing him. for a while you two were actually friends, but as of lately, he seemed to seize any opportunity to push your buttons. michael slid into the spot next to you, “yanno, boys are usually mean to girls when they like them.” he whispers in your ear, “doesn’t that promote an unhealthy association or something?” you roll your eyes, burning holes into the side of calum’s head. “i’m sure someone who likes you wouldn’t claim you’re pregnant every chance they got.” “calum’s not just someone,” michael sing-songed, “i honestly don’t know what sticks up his ass.” “apparently it’s not a stick, it’s my fake baby.” you crossed your arms, still glaring at calum. “ashton,” you piped up, gripping the back of the drivers seat. “can we please stop at mcdonald’s, i have to pee.” “no.” calum answered for ashton, “i recall asking ashton,” you snapped your head towards him, “but go off i guess.” “yeah.” ashton said quietly, switching lanes to get off at the next exit. “no,” calum grabbed the steering wheel, “you peed like 20 minutes ago.” “jesus fucking ch-calum please,” ashton threw his hand off the wheel, “don’t kill us please.” “wouldn’t wanna kill the baby,” calum grinned at you, sarcasm leaking from his dimples. jesus, you think, here we fucking go. “since when are you the dictator of my bladder?” you asked, face red. “peeing a lot is a sign of pregnancy, you know?” calum said, ignoring your question. “so, you’re an ob-gyn now too?” “i’ve taken up many practices since you conceived your baby,” calum insisted, eyes glued to his phone. you desperately wanted calum to turn his head towards you, to give you his full attention. this half assed argument wasn’t cutting it. “i’m honestly so uncomfortable, we’re almost at McDonald's.” ashton announces, “i am not fucking pregnant!” you shout, slinking into the back seat, “why do i even hang out with you?” “hey, (y/n), how you feeling?” luke asks, face grainy on your phone screen. “like ass,” you croak, you’d been throwing up all morning. you thought you were on the come up, and tested the waters with a piece of toast, but you were unsuccessful. “-is that (y/n)?” you hear calum ask, and your stomach lurches, you didn’t need to deal with him right now. “yeah-she’s sick,” “with what?” “i dunno, she’s throwing up-“ suddenly the phone screen shakes and calum’s face takes up the whole thing. his face holds an evil smile and you’re far too familiar with his jokes and you know what you’re in for. “you’re having morning sickness, (y/n).” he says matter-of-factly. you feel the last of your toast threatening to inch up your throat. “it’s cus’ you’re pregnant.” you empty your stomach into the toilet, “fuck you, calum.” you manage in between deep breaths. “i have food poising.” “if that’s what we’re calling pregnancy these days.” “i’m hanging up.” you throw your phone across the tile of your bathroom, leaning your head against the cool toilet bowl. you felt so gross, and calum’s comments were not helping in the slightest. you felt like crying really, he was being such a jerk to you, for no reason. a few fever naps later, you’re woken up by a knock at your front door. you drag yourself to the door, opening it to find a bag from the drug store, with a note reading ‘pregnancy kit!’ you immediately toss the pregnancy tests to the side, digging out the gatorade. you call calum, “thanks for the gatorade, but i don’t need the tests, wanna give them to your groupies?” you say as soon as he picks up. “ah,” he breathes, “of course, how could i be so silly, you don’t need to test something you’re already sure of.” “fuck off.” “i don’t need them,” he continues, “that’s not me anymore.” “ok, bye calum.” you throw your phone back onto your couch, dropping the bag next to you. if he wasn’t such an asshole, you’d think him going out of his way to bring you things would be sweet, but you’re sure it’s just an extra step he took to tease you. if he were anyone else you might smile and blush at the thought, but thinking of calum’s devilish smile while picking things out only made your skin crawl with heat. “(y/n)...” calum pushes the drink out of your hands, “you can’t drink while pregnant.” you nearly break the bottle over his skull, “are you like deprived of sex or something? is that why you’re so edgy?” “i just care about the well being of your baby,” he rests a hand on your stomach, “seeing that it-speaking if we should find out the gender soon. seeing that its father is absent.” you flick his hand off of you and ignore the way your heart speeds up when he touches you. “let’s find you someone, that sound good?” you ask, dropping his calloused hand from your grip, and scanning the bar for anyone that may peak calum’s interest. if you were being honest, the conflict between you and calum, that you dread, lit something within you. whether it was a match under your ass that kept you on your toes, or something warmer in the pit of your stomach, you found yourself red in the face and tingly every time you went back and forth with each other. calum was pissing you off and he knew it, he had wiggled his way under your skin, and you didn’t know how you felt about it. you spot a blonde girl across the room, and you set out to approach her. “no one that’ll take away from my ob-gyn practice,” he shouts as you walk away, stomping loudly. it almost hurts how ok he was with it. you return only a few minutes later, finding it very easy to convince a random chick to talk to someone in a band. “calum,” you stand in front of him, and he glares down at your smaller frame. “this is ally-allison-um, this is allison.” you introduce her, and she giggled loudly. “oh my god,” he drops his jaw, “you reincarnated michael jackson? for me? you’re too sweet, (y/n).” something inside you relaxes at his dislike for the stranger. “what?” allison cocks her head to the side, looking calum up and down. you catch yourself thinking, me too girl. “never mind,” you mutter, “allison said she likes music, you like that too!” “yeah, i go to a lot of raves.” she assures us, “have you guys ever done molly?” “no.” calum is short, “well, i have a few in my bag-“ “nice,” he responds, “we can do a couple,” “yeah for sure,” his eyes are in slits as soon as he looks at you, you shrink under his gaze. “let’s do molly, in some bar, with ally.” “allison.” she corrects, and calum already has your bicep in his hand, dragging you in the opposite direction of allison. your brain is split between wanting to punch him for being so rough, and letting him drag you along. you go with the latter. “we’ll be right back, ally, just need to converse with my colleague.” calum has no intention of ever speaking to her again, anyone named allison, he decides. soon, you’re standing outside the bar, shooting daggers out of your eyes at calum. if looks could kill, he would’ve been dead hours ago, and you’d be beating the dead horse. your feelings were all jumbled up, in a hot, flaming, pile of trash. “it’s cold,” you complain, rubbing your bare arms. “ok well, i can’t control the weather.” he snapped, making your stomach drop, he was being so mean. “what the hell is your problem?” “i don’t need you to meddle in my love life, (y/n).” he uttered, pulling out a cigarette from his back pocket. you snatch it away from him, and he’s left empty-handed. “not good for you,” you explain, “i’m not the pregnant one...” “no one is pregnant!” you shout, throwing the unlit cigarette on the ground. “sounds like something a pregnant lady would say,” calum hasn’t missed an opportunity yet. “i literally need you to stop,” you beg, shaking his shoulders. he lets out a quiet ‘woah’ but doesn’t do anything to stop you from violently shaking him around. “i don’t know what your problem is, but like, you’ve been at this since before i tried helping you out, so what gives?” calum only shrugs in response, eyes drifting to the people flowing out of the bar. his mind sails elsewhere, wondering if the guys would wonder where you two went, if they knew how he felt, if they cared at all. “cal, there’s gotta be like, someone in there for you, if you want a wingman-“ you babble, trying to push the idea of you and calum far, far, far, out of your brain. if he could just make out with someone, you could never think about him like that again, and then you could really get pregnant, and live a calum-free life. “there’s no one in there for me.” he says coldly, turning his shoulders away from you, making your arms drop down to your sides. you can feel him closing off. you roll your eyes, “how are you supposed to know that,” you soften your tone, you didn’t really know how to talk to calum like this. “cus’ i just do,” he’s slowly inching away from you now, trying to increase the space, trying to decrease the connection. “why should you care?” he turned his difficult feelings into coldness. “you’re my friend, i think, if you’re allowed to be so involved in my uterus, i should be allowed to try and get you some!” you fume, stepping closer to him. “i’m trying to be nice while you continue to be so mean.” “why try?” “i-“ you didn’t know, “i don’t know.” “well,” he barks, “if i’m being so mean and you can’t stand it, why do you hang out with me?” “why are you so mean?” you ask, both of your voices raising. “i don’t know.” he mocks you, “you have to know!” you were being far too dramatic for where you were, but you were so blinded by rage you found it difficult to care. “if you’re allowed to not know why you put up with me, i’m allowed to not know why i’m mean to you.” he turns to walk away from you, you grab the sleeve of his jacket, blood pumping rapidly. “don’t walk away from me, calum, that’s rude as shit.” “i am rude as shit.” “you’re not!” you cry, people walking out of the bar into the cool air taking a second glance at your exchange. “you’re not rude and that’s why i’m confused as to why you’re being rude to me, you weren’t like this before.” “before you started going out on dates and shit and getting pregnant,” he grumbled, shoulders slumping into himself. you gaped, “how does that have to do with why you’re being mean.” “m’ not mean.” his voice got quieter, head now lowered. if he couldn’t just box you out he could always try retreating into himself. “you just said you were,” you matched his volume. “m’ not,” he repeated, “n’ there’s no one in there for me.” “you’re all over the place,” you’re head is spinning, and you can’t connect the dots between anything calum’s saying. “cus’ the only person for me is standing outside the fuckin’ bar.” “have i ever told you, you have such a way with words,” you were trying to be so cool, because you doubted that the middle-aged businessman standing near the entrance was the one for calum, but he was making it really hard. “you’ll never guess what i do for a living.” he jokes back, but his chuckle ends too short to be real. “ok, so, why do you think i’m pregnant? like i’m still lost.” “can we please not talk about it,” he begs, finally looking at you. your stomach flips at his eye contact, and as wobbly as your knees are, you’re unmoving. you couldn’t “that’s not fair to me, cal.” “just not here then, please.” the sound of your front door closing was the first thing to break the agonizing silence between the two of you. “so...” you lean over your kitchen counter. calum rubs his face, and groans. “it’s stupid,” his words are altered by his cheeks being smooshed against his hands. a blush creeps up the back of calum’s neck and onto his face. he wasn’t getting out of this one. “yeah,” you agree, “it is stupid, but why?” there’s a long stretch of silence, “cus i like you,” finally cuts through the thick air surrounding you two. “m’ still a little drunk.” you spit out the sip of water you had just taken. “sorry,” you sputter, wiping your mouth. sure he had implied something of the sort outside the bar, but hearing him say it was sending you elsewhere. “i um,” “you don’t have to say anything back, but you wanted to know, so i told you.” he shrinks into himself, “no, cal, i just wanna know why you thought that was how you should’ve gone about it.” you weren’t saying you didn’t feel the same, but you also weren’t saying you’d let him off so easy. “i’m sorry, if it really bothered you.” he says instead, spinning himself back and forth on the bar stool. he was looking everywhere but you. “it’s not that, it was just-“ “weird?” “yeah.” “i know id be weird anyways, so i figures being mean weird would rule out yanno, me feeling things.” he explains, playing with the cuff of his jacket. “oh,” you whisper, studying how his eyebrows scrunch when he can’t button his sleeve. “you can’t just try and cancel out your feelings...like pemdas.” his eyes flicker towards you, “wrong, i did try, it just didn’t work.” “so you still like me?” you ask, “do all pregnant people ask this many questions?” he says under his breath, and you let yourself laugh because it’s kinda funny. calum smiles sheepishly as he continues looking down at his sleeves. “just me i guess,” you decide to play along. “yeah, i do.” “cool.” “that’s all i get?” he sits up straight, gripping the edge of the counter. “it’s cool!” you defend, giggles escaping your lips. “yeah well, what’s cool about it?” he tests the waters, maybe you were interested, maybe it wasn’t so crazy to think maybe you’d like him too. even just a little bit. he leans back against the chair. “i think it’s cool...” you trail off, biting your lip, “that someone so cool likes me.” “you think i’m cool?” calum’s tone is teasing, but you can tell he’s flustered by the way his usually low voice raises a bit and the blush painting his tanned cheeks. “mhm.” you nod slightly, the little bit of alcohol in your system making it hard to hold off. calum’s stature was especially enduring right now, his soft, sleepy eyes and messy hair, your heart swelled at the sight. “cool.” he said simply, eyes crinkling. you only let out another quiet ‘mhm’ in response, taking another sip of water. “so, is that it?” “is what it?” “is that all we say, and now i just have to stare at you until you kick me out?” he questions, face dropping. surely, he thought, you were only playing him. “bold of you to assume you’d even wanna stare at my face that long.” you counter, raising an eyebrow. he thinks for a moment, “bold of you to assume i wouldn’t.” “bold of you to assume...” it was getting really hard to go back and forth with calum now, his cocky smile getting under your skin instead of on your nerves for once. “bold of you to assume i’d kick you out,” “oh?” he grinned, leaning over the counter, mirroring my position. he widens his eyes at you, “better get used to it then.” “are you flirting with me, calum?” “bold of you to assume i’m not setting you up for the best pregnant joke of all time.” you roll your eyes at him, starting to move away. he grabs your hand suddenly, pulling you back over the counter. “i was only kidding, (y/n).” “figured,” you squeak out, trying not to faulted. you swallow hard, “but why do you need to be so close to me?” you were certain if anything was obvious is was the prominent blush splayed across your cheeks. you’d be surprised if he couldn’t feel the heat radiating off of your cheeks. “like seein’ you blush,” you were right, “sure, i could see it from down the street, but this is a better view.” “doubt it.” you bite your lip, “agree to disagree?” “turning down an argument?” you question, “i’m sure another opportunity will present itself.” he whispers, “you know i’d stay here, but it’s a really uncomfortable position.” you speak, after a moment of silence. “and i hate being in jeans. are you spending the night?” “what does that have to do with being in jeans?” he stays leaned over the counter after you stand straight again, and start walking towards your room. “i don’t have any clothes for you, i’d feel bad if i was comfortable and you weren’t.” “not something you’d ever cared about before, doll.” he spins around to face you, relaxed against the stool. suddenly your whole body feels hot. you gulp, “i guess you’re right,” you come back later, clad in pajama shorts and a long sleeved shirt. calum’s lounging on your couch now, feet kicked up on the coffee table. “glad you’ve made yourself comfortable.” “you weren’t going to,” he speaks, eyes not breaking away from his phone. you sit down next to him, legs folded underneath yourself. he glances over at you, a smile smile evident on his lips. it felt odd, not being genuinely angry at calum for more than an hour. “listen,” he speaks, “you don’t have to kick me out, i can leave on my own.” he looks down at his hands, twisting his rings. “you can if you want,” you say softly, covering your yawn with you hand. you hoped he didn’t want to leave, cause you’d be ok if he sat on your couch forever. “do you want me to?” he meets your eyes, you shrug, inspecting your nail polish, “don’t care,” “i mean, it’d be kinda weird if i stayed cus i like you and you don’t-“ “i like you calum,” you cut him off, darting your eyes back down to your nails. “oh,” he shook his head a bit, a grin creeping its way onto his face. “glad that’s out of the way,” you say, still not looking at calum. if you looked at him it’d be real and you’d given into him, who was bullying you for a fake pregnancy only hours before. it was stupid if you put it that way. but if you thought about it another way, it was never really that deep. “then, i guess i’ll stay?” he says carefully, nudging your thigh, eyebrows raised in anticipation. “cool.” you nod, making eye contact for a split second before turning back away. you could combust then and there. “you’d like that?” he teases, inching closer to you. you swear you feel your heart stutter. “if i stayed?” “mhm.” you laser your focus on your chipping polish instead of his body heat in attempt to calm yourself down. but you’re the furthest thing from calm. “ok,” he huffs, leaning back and throwing an arm around your shoulders. you stiffen under his touch, your entire body on fire. as of the last couple of months you’d been hot out of anger, not by whatever this was. calum’s gaze was fixed on you, his eyes fond despite his cocky manner. “you gonna relax, sweetheart?” the nickname dripped like honey from his lips. “you gonna kiss me to get it over with already?” you spit suddenly, wanting to end the awkwardness. you were sick of the jitters now, and all you wanted was calum. yet, you slap a hand over your mouth. he let out a laugh, “can’t with you so far away from me.” you roll your eyes, and lift yourself to turn yourself toward him. “much better,” he grins, moving a hand up to cup your face. fuck that, you think, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pressing your lips together. you feel the tension leave your body, as calum’s lips work against yours. it feels like heaven, his plump lips against yours, hands gripping whatever they can. calum pulls away, forehead leaning against yours, panting quietly. you take in his look, eyes closed, blissed out, beautiful. “bet your baby daddy couldn’t do that?” he jokes, smiling. “shut up.”

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pigeon-sponge · 6 years

Note

Do you have a tutorial or guide or anything on how you do colors because all of your pieces have such nice colors and lighting Seriously, the use of colors in your art isn’t something I’ve seen very often; I was wondering how you choose them & how you get those effects with the software? Thanks so much is advance if you choose to answer this :)

Thank you ;;;_;;;!! I do, but I think it needs a revamp.

I’m going on a very long ramble.

(Heads up! I’m not professionally trained, I have just watched and read a lot of tutorials and deviated from there with my own thing. Unless it has something to do with color blending modes, there is a good chance that I am using a silly fake term for many of these concepts. Also, I use Krita, but everything here should also be done possible on Photoshop, Medibang, GIMP, and I believe Clip Studio Paint. Autodesk Sketchbook and MyPaint don’t have filters like color balance, sharpening, etc. and I don’t know of an easy way of changing the saturation of a painting on SAI and FireAlpaca easily since I’ve never used SAI, I’ve only used FireAlpaca once in a blue moon, and searching for either doesn’t give a “one click” option that doesn’t require undos... but everything about color choices/lighting/color filters/blending-modes-that-aren’t-saturation should stay the same.)

There’s as many ways for things to be beautiful as there are birds in the world. But that’s too many birds, so its good to have a process that you try to follow. This is kind of an ideal setup, but I think this is how streamlined I wished I paint. (I usually bop between consolidating colors and adding detail, continuously, for all eternity until i give up and smash that post button blindfolded. I’ll explain what this means.)

So color wise, I try aim for two things: good value blocks and balance (cohesion), and interesting hue variation (jitter).

------

Setting the Ringabel painting with the saturation at 0%/setting the colors on grayscale, then simplified:

These blocks of different colors both provide structure to the painting, and also add to the composition. The thing I want people to notice most - Ringabel’s beautiful, luscious hair that he lovingly tends to every morning (and his face I guess) - is the area with the most contrast. There are logical-ish subdivisions between each part of the painting and I want to preserve these chunks of logical blocks throughout the painting process, or swap them out for Even Better Blocks.

Even then, I want there to be visual interest and a balance of values around the entire piece, which is why I added lighter glitter around areas that aren’t interesting enough to have real detail. No one is going to stare at that area too hard, but without it, this dynamic painting feels too empty.

Also, if I were to do the painting from the ground up again from this thumbnail, I’d also include gradients, to aid in carrying the eye to the focus having a better base to build on.

This also makes it easier to play with the lighting before getting to the meat of the work!

----

If we take Ringabel to max saturation, you can still see a bit of the value blocks, but there’s just a lot of colors slapped around everywhere:

I like this effect because it squeezes the maximum amount of visible interest out of a block of color as possible while still keeping the cohesion. And it’s not too hard to do - when you shade your painting, use two different colors instead of just one. When you add lighting, use two different colors. When you have a blob of color, slap some random color on that blob using a softlight blending mode.

If there’s a concentration of color around an area and there’s an unbalance, add that color on the other side of the painting, to balance.

I like to call this jitter.

----

Let’s talk about cheating really quick:

“I kinda want mess up the colors but in a way thats kinda consistent”

“This is too bright.“

“This is too dark.“

“There’s not enough contrast!! >:(“

“Too much !!!! Contrast!!!!“

“THIS IMAGE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE PURPLE“

There is magic in the filter list. Jump in and have fun! (And fix your stuff.)

----

And.... that’s the philosophy.

Keep big chunks to stay organized

But have randomness to be fabulous

No shame in fixing mistakes.

----

So from that, actual painting process for Ringabel on a Horse (clop clop). Here’s the thumbnail, which I drew before I knew how horses worked:

Then we choose hues. This will change over the course of the painting; I ended up with Green, then Red, then Yellow, then blue?

Then, allocate the colors in this way -

Dominant Lighting, Secondary Shading

Secondary Lighting, Dominant Shading

Rim light, another light source

Random random pops of color. because why not.

And pop them in this order:

Base/lineart

Initial color

Random colors (literally any color on the wheel) - Softlight/overlay - introduce jitter

Area Light 1 - (1) - Softlight/overlay - cohesive light

General shading - (2) - Multiply - cohesive shading

Detail shading - (1) - Multiply - jittery shading

Rim light - (3) - jitter - Softlight/overlay/COLOR DODGE - cohesive, out of left field light

Area light 2 - (1) -Softlight/overlay/COLOR DODGE - cohesive light

Detail - ;;_;; - FIX YOUR MISTAKES, C L E A N

Consolidate - (All 4) again to fix colors from the detail portion

GLITTER - (All 4) - jitter, glitter

Filtering - :D

The idea for 4-9 is that we have a balance of detail (jitter) and cohesion that we need to upkeep, and we need to strike a balance between adding cohesion and removing detail, and vice versa. Usually, I repeat those steps over and over and over and over, trying to get it just right. I tried to keep it simple here for the sake of the tutorial and my own sanity.

And now we do the thing.

Thanks for sticking around, and have a fantastic day!

#tutorial #art tutorial #digital painting tutorial #painting tutorial #sorry this took so long #thank you for the request #and have a good night!#hotvivitea

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haiky-u-lously · 7 years

Text

December 2nd: Hot Chocolate

For the fantabulous @vball-baes-bball-babes ! I am so happy to present you with your very own Christmas gift! When I first got into reading fanfics for my Haikyuu boys you were one of the first blogs I started following, and man did you send me down the dark whole of obsession. Because now I can’t stop writing about my vballers. But, because of your wonderfulness and the joy reading your works brings me, I hope I can bring even a fraction of that to you.

Character: Kasamatsu Yukio

This is my first time writing for anyone from KNB so I hope it isn’t too bad.

______________________________________________________________________________

“It’s cold!”

You rolled your eyes at the blond walking next to you. “It’s not that bad, Kise.”

Laughing as he gaped at your dismissal, you continued on your path. Determined to follow the man that had caught your eye.

“I’m practically a snowman. Can’t we be done?” He whined, tugging on your arm in the opposite direction.

You turned to him, frowning. “You said you could get him to talk to me. That hasn’t happened. So no. We can’t be done until I at least introduce myself.” Throwing your hands into the air you expressed your exasperation with the copy-cat. “How can I ever expect him to fall for me if we’ve never even met? That’s stupid thinking.”

He shook his head. Laughing as he did so, “You can try all you want but it’s not gunna work.”

Pouting at your tall friend, you silently asked for his reasoning.

Kise just repeated his actions and pulled out his phone.

Had you still been watching him, you would have seen Kasamatsu Yukio pull his portal device out shortly after. Seeing it was the basketball prodigy he answered.

“What is it Kise? You better not be giving Hayakawa a hard time!”

Suddenly Kise was laughing into his phone. You were annoyed that your friend was now ignoring you and kept trying to get his attention. Attempting to get him to answer you.

He waves you off and turns away to talk into the phone. “Of course not! It’s fine! It’s fine. Hahaha Anyway, are you free to meet? I’m near your apartment complex and its cold and I want something warm to drink.”

“Yea, well as long as you aren’t skipping practice I guess that’s fine.” Kasamatsu replied.

You were practically glaring at the tall blonde by the time he turned back to face you.

He looked you in the eyes as a sneaky smile grew on his face. “Perfect, meet at the corner cafe?”

The person he was talking to must have agreed, because he gave his farewells and stuck the phone back into his pocket.

“So now you are going to ditch me?” You growled at him, eyes ablaze with the feeling of betrayal. “It’s not even that cold, Kise.” You threw your hands out and away from you.

He stuck his tongue out at you but sauntered away before you could retaliate. Calling over his shoulder, “Come on. If you really want to continue your crusade after I get my drink I’ll still join you.”

Figuring this was his attempt at a compromise, you yielded. What ten minutes drinking a hot beverage and dealing with some random Kise-fan to the possibility of following your crush.

“Fine.” You rushed the distance between you, despite knowing Kise would stop and wait.

Entering the warmth of the quiant cafe, you let your nozzle waft in all the scents. “Mhmm, this was a good idea, Kise.” He smiled and just ushered you to the line in response. “Well, now look who’s in a hurry.”

Had you been paying more attention, you might have seen the spiky black haired male that had just walked in behind you.

“Welcome. What can I get started for you today?” The cashier sent a practiced customer service smile your way. Having had friends in the industry you knew that forced expression anywhere.

You stuck a couple extra dollars into the tip jar as you placed your order. Two large hot chocolates. It was the least you could do for your friend after practically dragging him all over town, not that you’d let him out of holding up his offer to continue afterwards or anything silly like that.

The cashier sent you a grateful smile after handing you your change, a silent thanks for the tip.

You stepped off to the side to wait for your drinks, not noticing or caring that Kise wasn’t right next to you anymore.

“I have two large hot chocolates!” The person placing the styrofoam cups called.

You stepped up and grabbed the drinks, “Thank you.”

The worker nodded to you and called, “I have a caramel hot chocolate!”

Trying to quickly get out of the way, you forgot to pay attention to your surroundings. BUmping into someone and spilling one drink all over yourself.

The other had the fortunate pleasure of coating the poor individual you seemingly attacked.

“Oh my gosh! I am so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention.” You reached for some napkins from behind you and started dabbing the male’s chest. Thankful that it had not been woman’s because you really did not want to get accused of groping in public. “Crap this isn’t coming out at all. I’m so sorry. Please, how can I-” You cut yourself off as your eyes traveled up the form. (e/c) orbs looking with steel blue. “-I-I repay you…”

Kasamatsu’s face was completely red. He had turned mute as soon as the accident occurred, unsure of how he should respond in this situation. Too scared to run away because it might cause you to think you did worse then what happened, but too afraid to say anything because ‘Crap it’s a girl!’

“You’re blocking the pick-up area. Go figure things out somewhere else.” Another customer said to your pair, side swiping around you to grab their own drink. Yelling back to the workers, “And, someone come clean this mess up. Why the hell I’m paying this much for this shit coffee and you can’t even keep your store clean, I’ll never know.”

Huffing out, you quickly made your resolve, “I’m sorry Kasamatsu-senpai.” You turned a scowl on the rude customer. “How dare you yell at these people as if they were your own personal slaves. This is the 21st freaking century you jerk. Obviously this spill just happened, otherwise you would not have felt the need to comment to us about it. Additionally, it was my fault so I will be cleaning it up. Unlike you, some of us actually have respect for ourselves and take responsibility for our actions. These friendly workers made your drink and I’m sure they didn’t mess it up, they do not choose what prices of items are, AND you freaking chose to come here. So get off whatever freaking high-horse you think you are on and apologize for your behavior!”

You were breathless by the time your rant finished. You had accidently drew the attention of many patrons within the small cafe, but many started applauding your outburst. The person you had scolded however just shook their head at you and smirked, “You have no idea who I am, princess. So why don’t you hold your tongue before you hurt yourself.”

It sounded like a threat, and while you weren’t one to back down from a challenge, someone else beat you to it.

“It’s not about who you think you are, it’s about being morally correct. She’s right, the workers did nothing to deserve you attitude or comments. You need to apologize to them before YOU get hurt.” Kasamatsu said evenly, his bushy eyebrows squishing in above his nose as his face expressed a near scowl.

The customer rolled their eyes, “Yea whatever. Sorry, I guess.” And promptly left the store.

By the time Kasamatsu realized he had said a full sentence in front of a member of the female population he had already returned to the blushing mess he was before.

“Geez, (F/N).” Kise called, wrapping his arm over his former captain’s shoulders. “I’m gone for like a minute--you make a mess and cause a scene. What am I going to do with you..?” You knew he was just trying to tease, but it was to early for that.

You knew you messed up. And looking up at the pair of boys from you position on the ground, having already crouched down to wipe up your mess, you told him so. “Not now, Kise. I feel bad enough.”

“Well then.” Kise smiled, “GUess I just gotta brighten your day, huh?”

Ignoring him, you went back to wiping the floor. Eager to get out of the embarrassing situation, get home, changed and out of you now soaked clothes.

“This is--” The blonde basketball player started.

Just to be interrupted by Kasamatsu simultaneously ducking from beneath his arm and realizing something new. “Wait, what? How do you know me?”

Kise was really surprised by his former captain’s ability to form a coherent sentence. Not only in front of you, a female, but also directed at you, a female.

You stayed silent, hoping it would save you.

Forgetting you had your nose-butting-into-everyone-else’s-business-friend with you. “Oh, (F/N) has been begging me to introduce you two for a while now.” You shot your head up and glared at the blonde. He pretended to duck behind his black haired companion. “There I kept my promise, now it’s up to you.” And he left.

Just like that. He left you.

Alone.

With your crush.

“I’m going to kill him.” You said staring at the door intently.

“That’s not legal.” Kasamatsu countered, “I’ll just make Hayakawa run him to the ground in their next practice.” The third-year’s blue eyes were trained hard on the same door you had previously been looking at.

Unfortunately for your sanity, you had turned your attention to your new found company.

Standing up from your position you made quick work of taking care of your trash. Reading yourself for a hasty exit after your sub-par performance of a first meeting.

“W-w-wait, sh-shoul-d-n’t you get a n-new drin-nk?” He stuttered out, face back to resembling a tomato.

You shook your head in the negative, “Nah, I spent my last bit of cash getting these for Kise and I because I owed him.”

The male in front of you just nodded his head. Internally accepting the fact that of course you were with Kise. ‘How could someone so willing to stand up for what’s right be with a silly boy like him?’ He wondered, before mentally slapping himself. He hardly knew your name, who did he think he was to get jealous over your relationship with his older teammate.

“He did hold up his end of the deal by introducing me to my crush, so I guess I could thank him formally for that later.” You mumbled to yourself.

Unfortunately for you, fortunately for everyone else in your life, Kasmatsu heard you.

And while he returned to a stuttering mess of a cherry faced boy, he grabbed onto your wrist, walked you back to the cashier, re-order you and his hot chocolates and paid for them both.

Kise looked through the window at his friend with a small smile playing on his lips, “You go Kasamatsu! Take good care of her for me.” And walked away to leave you to your make-shift date.

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artificialqueens · 8 years

Text

Not Quite Disney AU (New Year, New AU Series) (Trixya) – Ellen Thwoorp

Summary- What if you’ve been told your whole life that on one specific day, in one specific place, you’ll meet your true love and they will break the curse placed on you when you were young? Now what if you get there only to meet another Princess who’s been told the exact same thing?

Princess Trixie and Princess Katya wait together for their true love only to realise they may be waiting for someone who’s already there.

A/N: How about a random ass Fairy-tale Au for ya nerves?

(In my fairy-tale Au PHDs exist, animals talk and giant vegetables make good bungalows… I don’t understand it either. Kinda silly but fun.)

Once upon a time there was a princess. With the biggest brightest eyes in all the land, Princess Trixie was the most beautiful girl in the land from the very moment of her birth. The kingdom rejoiced on the day she was born, parties, dancing and merry making ran late into the night. But not everyone was pleased. The castle’s head cook was jealous of the small child, angry that she should be so loved for having done nothing and yet he had lived a whole life that no one had ever celebrated. So that night he began to plan, visiting a dark witch.

On Princess Trixie’s first birthday the unimaginable happened. She was cursed. Cursed so that everything to touch her tongue would taste foul and rotten. It would sear her tongue at the slightest hint of flavour. The King and Queen were beside themselves trying to find something their child could eat as they watched her begin to waste away. That was when they consulted the fairies, begging them to help their child. The Faye offered their services to make the princess the blandest food known to man so she may live until the curse was broken. Sadly they informed the King and Queen that the curse could only be broken by true loves first kiss but that kiss would not happen for another twenty years.

For on her birthday in exactly twenty years she must venture to a clearing in the magical forest alone, there she will meet her true love and be healed.

Once upon a time there was another princess. With tumbling golden locks and a brain like a sponge, Princess Katya was loved by her people and was a greatly anticipated queen of the snowy kingdom. On her sixteenth birthday the kingdom celebrated as their princess came of age, everyone feeling safe in the knowledge that, should something happen to their beloved King and Queen, Princess Katya could rule. She laughed and joked with her subjects as she danced in the square with them.

But there were those who thought her brother more worthy of the crown. Knowing the only way to stop the princess was to break her spirit they used dark magic to curse her. By night she would become a hideous beast, cursing her to a life of loneliness and ensuring she would produce no heirs. Her parents rushed her to the nearby witchdoctor the morning after her first transformation, carrying the scared, bleeding girl away from her destroyed bedroom. There they were told that nothing could be done for ten years.

For on this day in exactly ten years she must venture to a clearing in the magical forest alone, there she will meet her true love and be healed.

This is the story of how these two princesses arrived in the same clearing on the same day, searching for their true love.

………….

“Listen sister, a fairy told me to come here.” Trixie said, jabbing a finger at the other woman.

“Yeah, well the witchdoctor told me to come here, so I think we know who to trust.” Katya countered, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff. Cheryl, her pet racoon, stood on the horse behind her and tittered. Katya nodded at her in agreement.

“What makes the witchdoctor who eats her own toenails a better source than a fairy?!” Trixie exclaimed, their voices echoing in the clearing as they argued. Honestly who could trust the word of that old witchdoctor? She was just a crazy old lady who lived in a giant hollowed out onion. How can you trust someone who chose to live in a root vegetable?

“The witchdoctor has a PHD, otherwise she’d just be a witch. Duh.” Katya explained, looking at the other princess as though she thought she was rather dim. Trixie paused then laughed.

“Oh my god, that’s ridiculous.” She giggled, Katya couldn’t help but laugh too.

“Honestly, please let me have this. I’m older than you, there’s more at stake.”

“Clearly.” Trixie murmured under her breath. Katya rolled her eyes.

“I need true loves kiss to break the spell, this is important.” Katya pleaded. The spell was not the only reason she wanted to find her true love of course, she was also painfully lonely. She had her family and friends back in her kingdom but she longed for someone to love. Fate had promised her that by cursing her. It had promised her the truest and purest form of love out there. Or at least that was what her parents told her to help her sleep at night.

“Hey, I have a spell that need breaking too, it’s not all about you.” Trixie huffed. Who did this girl think she was?

“What’s your spell?”

“Everything I eat tastes rotten and burns me. Yours?”

“I turn into a hideous monster at night.”

“Are you sure it’s just at night?” Trixie asked, a small smile quirking her lip as she tipped her head to the side.

“You’re either the funniest or most awful person I’ve ever met.” Katya said with a laugh, surprising Trixie. People normally got offended by jokes like that. Her parents were always telling her to watch her tongue and yet here she was arguing with this woman and she was laughing.

“Maybe I’m both.” She chuckled, looking down at the ground. “We shouldn’t fight.” Trixie said after a few long minutes. “Let’s agree to just wait here and let the prince decide himself. Deal?” She asked, holding out her hand to the other princess. Katya smiled, taking her hand

“Deal.” She nodded, shaking the other woman’s hand warmly. She was honestly just glad the arguing was over, she couldn’t help but like this girl. “Want to sit and chat while we wait? Where are you from?”

…………..

It had been four whole days now that the pair had camped in the clearing waiting for prince charming to swoop in with a kiss and a cure. And in that time the pair had become almost inseparably close. As soon as they’d agreed not to argue over the prince they found they got along incredibly well. They just kind of complimented each other on this bizarre level that neither of them had ever experienced before. It was almost like they were destined for each other.

Trixie had said that once. Questioned if maybe meeting each other was part of finding their true loves. That maybe they were destined to be friends. Katya’s stomach made a funny kind of jump when she said that and it had kept her up all night. She’d laid there picking at her claws wondering if maybe they were meant for each other in a way they hadn’t thought of.

That was the night Trixie first saw her in her horrific form. She’d appeared outside Katya’s tent with a lantern and asked her if she was asleep. Katya replied that she wasn’t in a gravelly voice, but that she should not come in for she was worried she’d frighten her. Trixie had promised that she wouldn’t, saying that she had heard wolves and that she was frightened already.

Katya heart had been beating at twice its usual rate as she unclasped her tent using the special fixtures that had been designed to allow her freedom at night. Trixie had hurried in, putting down the lantern and closing the ties behind her hurriedly. She gasped when she turned causing Katya to shy away from the light, shame tearing her insides apart.

Trixie sighed softly, crossing the room to place a gentle hand on Katya thick, hairy arm and smiled at her gently to show her she wasn’t afraid. That night she had slept by her side, tucking in closer as they heard more howls.

That was when Katya first realised something in their friendship was not quite right. That night she laid awake listening to the sounds outside the tent and thinking.

……………….

“This prince best have a good reason why he’s almost a whole week late.” Trixie grumbled as she tore up blades of grass between her fingers. Katya hummed before the pair fell silent again.

“Trixie.” Katya said, finally working up the courage to speak. She’d been watching Trixie cloud spotting for the past few minutes, seemingly forgetting that she was supposed to be looking up at the sky too.

“Yeah?” The princess replied, turning her face to look at Katya. They were laid with their faces next to each other, bodies and dresses flaring out in opposite directions on the soft grass.

“Do you think it’s possible for them to get your true love wrong?” Katya asked, mouth dry as Trixie smiled at her.

“Who’s ‘them’?”

“You know, the fairies, the witch doctors, fate and all. The people who decide this stuff.”

“How would they be wrong?” Trixie frowned, rolling on her front and propping herself up on her elbow so that she was looking down at Katya, her face blocking out the sun as she moved her long hair.

“Like what if you don’t love the person they send?” The older woman asked, her heartbeat fast as the other princess leant close to her. What if they sent her a prince and it was wrong? She was feeling things, and in her heart she knew what they were, but she couldn’t allow herself to entertain the notion. She swallowed. The longer she and Trixie waited for the prince the more sure she became that she wouldn’t love him. Her heart was already being unwittingly stolen.

“Then they’re not your true love and they were never your destiny.” Trixie said earnestly, brushing hair from Katya face with a soft finger. “It’s alright to be scared, Katya.” She said gently, picking a blade of grass from the ground beside her. “I’m nervous too. Whenever our true loves come I believe it will be perfect. You have to believe in it just to get through it I think.” Placing the blade of grass across Katya top lip like a moustache and giggling to herself as she laid back down.

“I want to believe in it.” Katya said quietly, looking sadly at the other woman as her attention went back to the clouds.

…………..

2 days later…

“Katya. What are you doing?” Trixie said, making Katya jump and drop the road sign she’d managed to pry from the ground.

“Nothing.” She said quickly, putting her hands behind her back and trying to look innocent.

“Because it looks like you’re tampering with the signs. And the prince won’t be able to find us otherwise.” The younger princess said crisply, arms folded across her chest. Katya said nothing, she couldn’t think what to say. That was exactly what she was doing. She knew it was silly and probably fruitless but she didn’t want the prince to come. She didn’t ever want him to come. She wanted Trixie and herself to be alone and happy together without anyone swooping in to take Trixie away.

“Oh my god, you were changing the road so he couldn’t find me.” Trixie accused, jabbing an angry finger at her. “You were going to lead him straight to you. I thought we were friends, Katya!” Trixie cried, turning on her heel.

“It’s not what you think, Trixie.” The other princess insisted, following the other girl hurriedly as they made their way back to the clearing

“Oh yeah? Enlighten me.” She snapped, stopping suddenly in her tracks and turning to Katya with furious eyes.

“I wasn’t trying to stop him from finding you. I was trying to stop him from finding either of us.” Katya blurted, unable to think of a suitable lie in the face of Trixie’s outrage.

“What? Why would you do that?” Trixie asked, her anger faltering to make way for confusion.

“I want to be with you.” Katya confessed after a moment of silence. Nothing ventured nothing gained she supposed, maybe honesty was best in a moment like this. She may lose her at any moment, whenever his lordship deigned to delight them with his presence.

“We can spend plenty of time together after the spells are broken. We can visit each other all the time.” Trixie assured her, patting her arm in a friendly, comforting manner.

“No that’s not what I mean.” Katya floundered, she didn’t understand. “I-” She swallowed. “I don’t think anyone is coming for me.”

“Oh, Katya we’ve been over this-” Trixie sighed affectionately.

“No, just let me.” She interrupted, stopping the other woman in her tracks. “I don’t think anyone is coming because I-I-.” Her heart beat thumped in her ears as a lump formed in her throat. The words seemed reluctant to leave her mouth no matter how badly she wanted to say them.

“What is it, Katya?” The other princess asked, concern touching her voice as Katya’s eyes began to shine, threatening tears.

“I think you’re my true love.” Katya confessed, looking hopefully at the other princess. Please say it back. Please say it back. Please say it back.

“Ok, I think you’ve eaten some bad mushrooms.” Trixie laughed, turning to walk away. Katya hurried after her as she made her way back to their camp. Why didn’t she understand?

“Trixie.” She pleaded, grabbing her arm and turning her around. She stepped forward and kissed the other woman before she lost her nerve. This kiss was sudden and harder than Katya might have liked but it was full of intent and emotion. She tried to pour her soul into it, holding Trixie’s cheek in a caress. Trixie pulled away suddenly, looking at her with wide eyes.

“I- I have to go wait for my prince.” Trixie stammered out, practically running back to her tent and shutting herself inside.

…………

It wasn’t until later that evening that she came out of the tent. She could see Katya sat on the ground a few feet away, Cheryl sat in her lap as she looked up at the sky. The sun was going down. Trixie swallowed, she had done a lot of thinking in the tent. She was confused and nothing made sense. Everything she knew about how this was supposed to go wasn’t happening. Trixie walked forward, heart breaking when she realised that Katya was crying. She could head the soft repeated whisper of “please, please, please” under her breath.

“Hey, raccoon whisperer.” Trixie said gently, sliding to sit down next to the other princess.

“Hello.” Katya said, quickly turning away to wipe her face as Cheryl hissed at Trixie. She turned back, sniffing as she did so.

“I’ve been thinking.” Trixie began, soothing out her long dress to busy her hands.

“Good for you.” Katya replied, shrugging as though she wasn’t really listening.

“I know, I should write home about it.” Trixie chuckled, smiling when she saw Katya’s mouth twitch. “Katya, look at me.” She sighed, reaching out to touch her face and nearly losing a finger as Cheryl snapped at her. Katya began making her weird clicky noises at the animal. They were talking to each other, it sounded quite a bit like they were arguing. Eventually Cheryl slid from her lap, shooting Trixie a dark look before running out into the trees.

“Trouble in paradise?” Trixie joked, trying to cheer the other woman up. The atmosphere that laid heavily around them felt wrong.

“What do you want Trixie? Because this isn’t funny. We can’t just go back to doing what we were doing before. It’s not fair.” Katya said, her voice off as she continued to avoid looking at the other woman. Trixie paused, surprised by Katya’s outburst.

“What if the prince comes and he’s everything you’ve ever wanted?” Trixie asked, pulling blades of grass from the ground in clumps.

“He won’t be.” The princess breathed unwaveringly. She sounded as though she had never been surer of anything in her life.

“How can you know that?”

“Because. The fairies can send all the beautiful princes and princesses they want, and it won’t matter because they’re not you.” Katya finally turned to look at her with soft, sad eyes. “I’m in love with you Trixie, there’s no one else they can send.”

“You’ve only known me just over a week.” Trixie argued weakly.

“Says the woman who is willing to go marry whatever man turns up here with a fancy horse and stupid haircut.” Katya snorted, nudging her shoulder with a bitter sort of smile. There was a long paused as Trixie tried to process everything Katya said. “Have you ever thought about the fact that our true loves were supposed to turn up at week ago?” The older woman said a short while later, eyes on the sun as though she expected it to suddenly drop from the sky.

“Of course.”

“And the only people we met that day were each other.” Katya reminded her, catching her eye with a meaningful look.

“The true loves kiss has never been another princess. It’s unheard of.” Trixie reminded her. The old stories were the closest thing she had to rules on this. It had never happened before. Sure two women or two men could marry in most kingdoms in the land, not one couple of that sort had been a part of this kind of tale before.

“So you trust dusty old storybooks more than your own senses.” Katya countered, turning a little to face her better. “Do you feel nothing for me at all Trixie? Nothing at all?” She asked, her voice sounding a little more desperate than she would have liked.

“I don’t know.” Trixie confessed. Katya shoulders sagged, and she moved to turn back to the sky. “No seriously, I don’t know. I like you a lot and you make me very happy but I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like, Katya. Everyone just says you’ll know when it happens.”

“I suppose we’ll know for sure if you’re my true love pretty soon.” Katya sighed, playing with the ties on her dress as she looked back up at the sky. “Maybe you’re my true love but I’m not yours.” She suggested, her voice cracking at the thought of such an unfair alignment.

“That’s why you’re watching the sun.” Trixie stated, shooting Katya sympathetic look.

“If I change when the moon comes up… I was wrong.”

“It’s going to be ok.” The princess assured her, reaching to take her hands. Katya swallowed thickly as she began to rub soft circles on the back of her hand.

“You don’t know that.” Katya shook her head, looking down at the torn up grass in front of her. Trixie reached forward and gently turned Katya face to look at her.

“No, but I’m here with you and I always will be when you need me, whether we’re destined to be or not.” The princess said earnestly, stroking Katya’s cheek with her thumb as though trying to sooth a frightened animal.

“Did you enjoy kissing me?” Katya whispered suddenly breaking the silence between them.

“Yes. I think I did.”

“Would you ever want to do it again? One last time before.” Katya asked, eyes flicking up to sun as it began to slip out of view.

Trixie leant forwards and gently pressed her lips to Katya’s. The older woman sighed, her hand coming to slide into Trixie’s long hair. She opened her mouth, deepening the kiss into something more passionate. Trixie caught up quickly, encouraged by the other woman’s gently moan as she sucked on her bottom lip. She squeezed the hand still clasped in hers tightly before flicking her eyes to the sky.

The moon was out.

Trixie pulled away, her thumb still stroking Katya’s cheek in an attempt to keep her calm. The other woman’s eyes were still clasped shut. “It’s time to look up, Katya.” Trixie breathed, kissing her forehead.

“I can’t.” She gasped, eyes tightly shut as tears began to streak her cheeks. Her lip trembled as she tried to fight her sobs. Trixie took her shaking hand from where it rested at the back of her neck and pressed a kiss to it.

“Yes you can. You have to, Katya. I know it’s hard but it’s important.” Trixie said gently, raising a hand to stroke Katya’s hair. The other princess swallowed, opening her eyes to look at Trixie. Trixie smiled encouragingly and squeezed her hands. “You can do it, look up.”

Katya took a deep breath and turned to look up at the moon. Her palms were sweaty as she looked up at the orb that had haunted her for so many years. They waited and…

Nothing.

Katya blinked shooting Trixie a quick look.

“How long does it normally take?” Trixie breathed, looking up at the moon with a small frown. Trying to not to get prematurely excited for Katya’s sake.

“It- It normally happens straight away.” Katya frowned, looking down at her hands. They looked the same. She looked up at the moon again, staring at it for several minutes. “Does this mean it worked?” She asked slowly.

“It looks that way yeah.” Trixie breathed, turning to smile at the other woman. “You’re cured.” Katya put a hand over her mouth, breath heavy as gazed up.

“I’m not changing.” She breathed.

“Nope.”

“I’m oh my god, the curse it’s broken!” She cried, throwing her hands up in the air. Trixie laughed as the other woman grabbed her, tackling her to the ground in a hug. Katya laughed and let out a surprised cry as they rolled a little further than intended down the sloped clearing. Practically sitting on top of Trixie she punched her hands up in the air in celebration.

“You’re not going to dance are you?” Trixie giggled.

Katya stopped suddenly, looking at Trixie with slightly manic eyes. “It’s your turn.” She said, jumping up and running to the blackberry bush. She came back with a hand full of blackberries, presenting them to Trixie. The younger princess looked down at them nervously. She remembered how foul and sharp they had tasted when she’d last had them. She took one of the berries from Katya’s hand and looked up at her anxious face.

Katya frowned at her as Trixie squashed the fruit in her fingers, running the dark juice along Katya’s bottom lip. With that she placed a hand at either side of Katya’s jaw and pulled her close. There was a mutual sigh a Trixie’s tongue first brushed Katya’s lip. Trixie almost cried when the sweet taste brushed her tongue. It was sweet and tangy and… well nice. For the first time she tasted something nice.

Trixie let out a moan and pulled the other woman closer, opening her mouth the kiss the other woman deeply. Katya held her close, arms clasped around her in a tight embrace. How was it that this kiss felt so different to the other two they’d shared? This kiss was even more passionate and desperate than the first yet even sweeter than the second.

“You taste amazing.” Trixie breathed, looking down at the other woman’s stained lips again. “I’m sorry for everything.”

“It’s ok, I understand.” Katya smiled, wiping at her sticky cheek with her sleeve. “Do you want to sing your true love song?” She asked, knowing that Trixie had spent a long time preparing the song.

“Nah, let’s go share your tent.” Trixie said with a wave of her hand, walking over to the blackberry bush to pick more, filling the large pockets in her dress.

“But yours is bigger.” Katya frowned as she helped the woman pick them.

“Exactly.” Trixie nodded, turning to Katya with a smile. “It’ll be cosy.”

“Oh.” Katya said with a frown before she understood what the other woman meant. “Oh.”

“What does the rest of you taste like?” Trixie winked, popping a berry in her mouth with a moan as she headed towards Katya’s tent. Katya stood for a moment staring into space as she tried to process what on Earth just happened and where this brazen, flirty Trixie had come from. She hurried over to the tent, sending one last look up at the moon with a smile. That was the first night in ten years she’d looked at the moon and smiled.

………

“So we go to your kingdom first because it closest, we’ll send word to mine from there. Then we’ll figure out the whole wedding thing?” Katya checked as they finished packing away her tent, placing it on Trixie’s horse. That was the last thing they had to pack up. Trixie smiled and nodded, stepping around the horse to take Katya’s hand in her own.

Suddenly there was a rustling in the trees around them. They could hear voices and the sound of a horse galloping.

“Quick.” Katya said, grabbing their weapons from her horse. She threw Trixie her bow as she rushed back, sword and quiver in hand. Trixie took the quiver, slinging it quickly over her shoulder as she took aim with one of her arrows.

Through the bushes burst a white horse, its mane swishing in the wind. It whinnied as it came face to face with Katya’s sword.

“Woah there, mighty steed. Fear not these maidens.” The man sat on the back of the horse cried, coming into to view as he turned the horse. He was rather short in the body, with long wavy blonde hair and very blue eyes. He grinned at the princesses, his white teeth gleaming brightly.

“I think the beast is wise to fear us.” Trixie said flatly, maintaining her aim.

“Who are you calling beast?!” The horse cried, flipping its mane incredulously.

“You can talk?!” Trixie and Katya cried in unison. Katya looked amazed, Trixie looked more disturbed. Of course Katya would find something like this entertaining.

“Why yes! I am a cursed prince, searching for true loves kiss.” The horse spoke in a woefully dramatic voice. “This is my brother, he’s just here because mum wants him to settle down.” He added flatly, looking like a child who was forced to babysit their annoying younger sibling.

“Oh wow. That really sucks for you.” Katya said awkwardly, shooting Trixie a look. Trixie bit her lip to fight the giggle as she caught Katya’s eye.

“Exactly, that is why I am here to whisk one of you away to be my bride where upon a kiss I shall transform into a handsome prince.” The horse said stoically, seemingly posing in what he deemed his best light.

“Well, a moderately good looking prince in comparison.” The brother added with a deep chuckle, patting his brother’s neck in a condescending manner.

“No.” Katya clarified after a moment, evidently realising Trixie couldn’t be the one to break the news otherwise she might laugh. “I don’t mean your curse, although that really sucks, we already found our own true loves.”

“What? But we’re only a little late.” The brother insisted, looking like a child that had been playing with a toy only to have it taken away because it wasn’t his.

“Actually, you’re over a week late.” Trixie said, finally gaining control of herself. “And I’ve got bad news for you, never kissing a horse, never would have, never will.” She added, turning to walk over to their horse.

“Good luck next time.” Katya added as she turned and walked away. Katya hopped up onto Trixie’s horse first, offering Trixie a hand as she slid behind her. They could hear the pair arguing all the way down the dirt road as they made their way back to Trixie’s kingdom. Katya’s horse trailed along behind them, tied to the back of their saddle by a strap of leather. If you listened closely you could hear the soft sounds of Cheryl snoring in one of the bags.

“As if they expected you to kiss a damn horse.” Trixie muttered as the sound of the brothers finally faded to nothing.

“Me?!” Katya cried with a laugh. “What if the horse was for you?” She suggested, smiling as Trixie held her tight, hands joined at her stomach.

“You don’t think horse kissing is more likely to come from the woman with twelve fingers and a beard rather than the fairies?” Trixie suggested, rolling her eyes. As if the horse man was for her. Yeah right. How disgusting.

“I’m telling you she just misunderstood. She has a PHD.” Katya insisted as the horse trotted along beneath them.

“You’re such a liar, I don’t believe you for a second.” Trixie laughed, smiling brightly as she rested her cheek on Katya’s shoulder blade.

“I shall never tell the truth again ‘til the day I die if it will make you laugh like that every time.”

“Oh shush.” Trixie blushed, hiding her face. Katya smirked.

Their fairy-tale didn’t go how anybody expected it to. People would marvel at the story for centuries to come, as the documented accounts became legends and legends became bed time stories. The story of the two princesses who made their own destiny and fell in love.

And they lived happily ever after.

The End.

#katya zamolodchikova #trixie mattel #trixya #lesbian au #au #fluff #mild angst #ellen thwoorp #rpdr fanfiction #submission #fantasy #princess au #new year new au #royalty au

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