#and when people DM *me* I get spooked

[funeralprocessor]

I really need to socialize with people more. Shame about the horrors though.

[thedeviltohisangel]

All The Things I Did (3): Don't Leave Me Alone

chronology: chapter 1 chapter 2 interlude 1 chapter 3 interlude 2

a/n: well well well. here i am again. not as sad as interlude 2 i promise. i put them in chronologic order up top for all the new fans of this fic. focusing on gale and cass this chapter. i've appreciated all the screams in my ask box (i will explain anything about spook x bucky i've got going on in my head whenever you want, shoot me a dm) and will work on more interludes this weekend. keep the prompts coming! good a good mix of current & post war bucky x spook. love you guys and enjoy this longer one in celly of the finale.

Of all the places for them to bump into each other, no one should have been surprised it was in the base library. It was small and quiet and didn’t have the nicest lighting. But it had plenty of books on plenty of topics and very few people ever frequented it. Normally, it was her place to unwind and seek solace. Breathe in the scent of the worn bindings and get lost for a few hours. Cass wasn’t sure if John even knew it existed so it only made sense that this is where Gale would find her first.

Gale Cleven had been in communication with John Egan since their first day of basic training. Had watch him fly and crash on occasion. Watched him flirt and dance and take girls home. Only a few times had watched him give a piece of his heart and never once had he watched it go anywhere. When he had sent him the unicorn to pass along as an apology to a bar owner in Greenland, John had written one line at the end that made him more confused than the figurine had. A little note at the bottom: P.S. I think I’ve found my girl. 

Gale hadn’t known then, wouldn’t know for awhile, that Bucky had only seen her across the airfield when he had written that. Hadn’t even spoken a word to her. Had taken one look at the way every man on that base stopped and parted for her. One look at the way she navigated herself around the airfield while never looking up from the paper in front of her. John Egan had been gone like a freight train.

“Excuse me, Lieutenant Cooper?” She was in an armchair in the back of the library, curled up as much as her uniform would allow, thumbing through a book on Prussian history with two others opened and balancing precariously on either side of her and a stack of yet-to-be-read books piled on the floor. “I don’t mean to intrude. I just thought I’d introduce myself. Gale Cleven, friends call me Buck.” 

“My friends call me Cass.” She shook his hand as firmly as she could, her right arm in a sling. “You know, John has a whole thing planned for us to meet. He’ll be heartbroken.” Him and Cass had spent the night on a blanket in the flowers, just like she had wanted upon her return. He told her all about his best friend Buck and that introducing her to him was almost like her meeting his sisters or mother. Joked that she needed Buck’s approval before he could take her on another date.

“We can work on our story. Let him still have his moment.” Cass smiled and motioned for Gale to take the chair next to her. She placed a notecard between the pages to keep her place before giving him her full attention. 

“I’m sorry your first impression of me was when I got off that plane yesterday. I promise I’m not always that dramatic.” Gale laughed. The swelling in her eye had gone down slightly and there was color back to her cheeks. Maybe a couple of new bruises on her neck but he assumed his friend was more likely the culprit of those than the secret police.

“I barely noticed over the commotion of Bucky.”

“I wasn’t expecting that,” she noted shyly. All of a sudden her fingernails were much easier to look at than Buck’s gaze.

“I’ve known Bucky, John, a long time. You’ve enraptured him, Lieutenant.” Gale hadn’t expected such a reaction either. Bucky had always been somewhat impulsive, sure, but always with a personal gain in mind. Win the bet. Win the girl. Win the game. But yesterday had been near primal. A base instinct to protect. To put himself in between her and those who would do her harm. It had come as natural as breathing.

“Your word choice is inspiring, Major Cleven.” Her eyes twinkled. She knew.

“Has he serenaded you yet? Then you’ll really be inspired.” 

“I don’t know if that is what I would call it. I haven’t worked my way to that level of affection yet.” He thought back to the desperation in John’s voice when he called Cass’ name yesterday. Thought back to the venom that replaced it when someone got in the way of him reaching her. 

“I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.” She ducked away from his gaze again.

“Don’t tell him I’m telling you this, but I’m pretty enraptured by him, too.” Gale reached over and squeezed her hand, locking the secret between them, and stood up to let her get back to her reading and to find the book he had come here looking for in the first place. “Cass? I’ve got a favor to ask. It’s kind of a big one.”

“Something wrong, Buck?” 

“No. Just something that’s been on my mind since he left.” He mulled over the words for a moment. “He’s got a big heart. Does a good job at hiding it. I’ve been doing my best to protect it since the day I met him but if something happens to me up there…”

“You don’t even need to ask, Gale.” She would be his armor. Protect John Egan the way her soul had told her she should from the second she laid eyes on him. Had recognized the purity within him and felt the need to protect it. Cassandra Ann Cooper had been gone for John Egan the moment he stepped foot in England.

Gale nodded in appreciation. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight.” He walked to a shelf out of her sightline and Cass sighed deeply. She had faced down some scary people. But that interaction had her stomach in more knots than any of them. She had met, and talked to, and hadn’t made a fool of herself in front of, Major Gale Cleven. Cass smiled. John was going to be so happy when he found out.

----

The man in question was having a bit of a devious streak. Decided he was going to be early to pick up Cass instead of simply on time. Decided, after five minutes of waiting, that it had been too long since he last kissed her. Mary rolled her eyes when he came strolling in, thinking better of it when she opened her mouth to ask what he was up to. 

“Mary, I swear if Major Egan is early, tell him I’m not ready.” He smiled as he heard Cass answer his knock.

“Too late, Spook. Let me in so I can see whatever potions you're brewing to look so goddamn beautiful.”

“Are you calling me a witch?” Her voice was closer this time. John pressed his palm to the door where he imagined hers was.

“I miss your face,” he provided simply.

“I have curlers in my hair.” Her mother had never let her father see her with her curlers in. Even after thirty or so years of marriage. Told Cass it took away the allure of femininity. 

“Good. I’ve been imagining what you might look like in my bed in the morning-” He almost fell through the door when she opened it, her fist around his tie and all confidence choking off in his throat. 

“No remarks like that in the hallway where anyone can hear you.” Cass sat back down at her vanity for the finishing touches of mascara and powder. 

“Afraid they won’t find you so spooky anymore?” There weren’t too many artifacts of her life for him to look at. Photos of what she presumed were her parents and her siblings. A pile of letters with a return address in South Carolina. A jewelry box on top of her dresser.

“I don’t mind the nickname. I never had one growing up.” John stopped to admire her in the mirror as she pulled the curlers from her hair. He swallowed. It did look like he imagined she would be waking up next to him. How she would be after spending the night letting him worship her.

“Hey, wait on that for a second.” Cass put the tube of lipstick down and looked at him with a question across her brow. “Don’t want to mess it up when I kiss you.” She smiled and crooked her finger to beckon him forward, standing on her vanity chair as he got closer.

“So handsome,” she sighed as she took the opportunity of her newfound height to really take him in. She knows he would disagree but Cass found something ethereally beautiful about John Egan. The slope of his nose and the angles of his cheeks. The soft hair on his upper lip that she had found such joy in kissing. 

“I’m glad you think so.” He started with just a quick peck, enjoying the look of annoyance on her face. 

“That’s not worth holding up my lipstick application for.” John took that as a challenge. He felt guilty for only a second as he tangled his fingers into the curls at the back of her head and held her steady. John was trying to be mindful of the healing cut on her lip but she was pushing herself closer and closer and he had no choice but to give her more and more. It wasn’t slow. It was a spark spinning itself into a fire. An ember catching fire on all the things around it. He was a man starved for her oasis. She was a girl all too eager to tantalize him in the desert. 

John slid his arms to wrap tightly around her waist, lifting her against his body and turning so her back was against the wall. Instinctually, she wrapped her legs around his waist and gasped into his mouth at the sensation. “Fuck, Cass.” 

“John, we have to slow down.” She was enjoying his lips that had moved to her throat all much. Was so flushed with desire for him that beads of sweat were collecting in her collarbone. Cass unwrapped her legs from around his waist and John smiled with pride when her knees buckled ever so slightly. 

“You’re right. Do this the right way. The slow way.” He straightened his tie and bent down when Cass reached up to fix his hair.

“Doesn’t have to be slow forever. Sir.” She knew exactly what she was doing when she said it. Relished in the way it made his eyes darken with lust again immediately. “We’re going to be late to dinner. And I already made a literally bloody first impression with Gale.” 

“Come to think of it,” he noted as she expertly coated the red pigment around her lips, “it might’ve been more fun to try and kiss it off of you, Lieutenant.” 

“There’s always later.” 

He watched her hips sway to the Jeep, held her hand while he drove and smiled so wide it hurt when she slid across the bench and kissed his cheek. It all felt so normal. Felt like he was back home taking a girl to a movie and milkshakes on a Friday night. Felt like being with her was exactly where he was meant to be.

“Before you ask, no, we are not going back to the pub tonight.”

“Oh?” she asked as they drove right past. “Our memories from the other night incapable of being topped?”

“Just thought we would meet him somewhere nicer. This little bistro up the way a little bit.” 

“John Egan, are you nervous?” 

“Maybe.” She laughed but snuggled into his side. 

“It’s very sweet that you love Gale so much.”

“Don’t tell him. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.” Cass thought back to her conversation with Gale in the library. About the mushy heart right behind the very ribcage her cheek was resting against. 

“You know, I’ve been told I’m good at keeping secrets.”

----

Gale watched from the window by the table as John’s Jeep pulled into view, smiling to himself as Cass held his friend’s and kissed him. Stayed close to whisper reassuring words and knock his nose against hers to seal the promise.

“Bucky you lucky son of a bitch,” he muttered. They held hands as they walked in and when she let go to shake Gale’s hand, firmer this time as the sling hadn’t gone with her dress, John had kept his hand on the small of her back. Looking back on it, Gale doesn’t think there was a moment the whole night they weren’t touching. 

“Cass, this is the best man I’ve ever met, Major Gale Cleven. But I call him Buck.”

“Gave everyone else no choice but to call me Buck, too.” John pulled her chair out for her and pushed it in, sitting straight as a rod in his own until her arm locked around his comfortably. He visibly relaxed and kissed her forehead when she offered it.

The conversation flowed smoothly, John none the wiser the two of them had already met. Buck had her giggled over stories of a younger Bucky, taking her back to their days when they were first learning to fly. She asked about Marge and John noticed the way her chin dropped into her hand and she watched Gale with adoration as he spoke about the woman he had loved since he was a child. And would love until the day they died. 

“She sounds absolutely lovely, Gale.” Cass reached across the table and squeezed his hand when his gaze turned melancholy for a moment. 

“If you’re crazy enough to see it through with this one,” his chin jutted towards John, “I’m sure you and Marge will be thick as thieves.”

“Hey! I’m not that bad of a guy,” he spoke around bites of his dinner.

“John, you’ve got a little…” Cass motioned to the corner of her mouth to signal a bit of sauce was lingering on his. Without even really thinking about it, she used the corner of her own cloth napkin to dab away the offense. 

“Better?”

“Perfect.” Gale could lose his stomach with the sweetness. “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me to the powder room.” John stood as she left, watching her with a dazed smile on his face until Buck coughed.

“She’s something, Bucky. A real class act. Whip smart. Has you wrapped around her finger many times over.” John hummed around his sip of whiskey. 

“I’ll keep wrapping myself around it as long as she’ll have me.”

“Yeah? I should tell you she’s too good for you.” 

“You’d be right. I don’t deserve someone like her.” He swirled his glass pensively. “You know I love you and I love Marge and I love the little world you two build whenever you're together. I’ve always wanted that but kept getting in my own way. Chasing the immediate instead of being patient. Cass and I, it’s going fast because of this fucked world we live in. And I’m not getting in my own way because I’ve found a girl who won’t let me.”

“Watching you two, I think it’s real, John.”

“I think it is too,” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “We’ve got to make it through this thing, Buck. I came here with nothing to lose but now I’ve got something I couldn’t stand to.” There was something desperate in his eyes. The same look Gale had seen yesterday when he was fighting the officer to reach Cass. 

“Feels nice to have someone to live for, doesn’t it?” he teased.

“Nice, scary, like I’m being mauled by Meatball.” They both laughed in spite of the truth. “You think she’s smitten with me?” Gale rolled his eyes.

“I do.” Bucky nodded.

“Good.” Cause he thinks he might love her. 

“Sorry for the prolonged departure.” She came back with a  smile, John standing and kissing her gently. “Major, I just reapplied that.”

“Couldn’t help myself.” Didn’t want to. 

He watched her and Gale banter back and forth the rest of the night with a smile on his face. Cass was the first girl he was introducing to his best friend, wished it was under better circumstances. Wished he had met her somewhere the threat of not making it to tomorrow didn’t exist. That he could court her properly and take her to the drive in and canoeing on the lake by his parents house and listen to a ballgame on the radio in the summer. Wished he had the courage to tell her and Buck that he was scared of losing them both. That he had been up there once and would back up a hundred times more if it meant they could live in a safer world. 

And one day, after all three of them had done their part to end this war, John will mention this dinner at Buck’s wedding. And Buck will mention it when John asks him to be their child’s Godfather. But they didn’t know what they would have to go through to get there. That John’s fear of losing them both will come true. And that he would almost lose himself in the process of getting them back.

[sassypossumm]

Tearing Down Walls

Art Cred: artisybabygirl on Insta!

I hope you like it!!! Trying to get into the swing of things again with some good Miggy content! (requests are always welcome! Just DM me and I'll give it a go!)

Miguel was alone for a long time... prompt: "What are you doing?" "No one has ever kissed them better before, so I'm doing it now."

It had been a tough day for Miguel. There had been anomaly after anomaly and quite frankly, he was exhausted. Opening the front door to your shared apartment, the only thing on Miguel O’Hara’s mind was a hot shower to unwind from the stress of the day.

The dark bedroom told him you weren't home yet, so he trudged to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee before stepping into the bedroom. Making his way towards the bathroom he left a trail of clothes along the way. Peeling off finally his pants, Miguel stepped into the shower and let the hot water roll across his body. Picking up the shampoo he began vigorously scrubbing his scalp while watching dirt and suds wash down the drain.

“Miguel?” His ears perked up at the sound of your voice and he grinned slightly to himself.

“I’m in the shower, Ninfa.” He called out, leaning back to rinse the suds from his hair. The front door closed, and he heard the light pad of your feet as you headed into the bedroom. Miguel had to chuckle to himself at the sound of your grumbling. No doubt you were cursing him for leaving his dirty clothes all over the floor of the bedroom.

“You know, I just steamed these carpets, Miguel.” You grumbled loudly; nudging open the bathroom door with your foot. Miguel peered at you over the top of the glass door of the shower. You flinched when your eyes met his. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how tall you are.” Shaking your head, you dumped the clothes in the hamper and turned back towards him with your hands on your hips. “It’s not nice to scare people, O’Hara.” The corners of his eyes crinkled.

“You do it to me all the time, Ninfa.”

“That’s different.” You waived a hand dismissively. Miguel cocked a brow and chuckled wearily.

“I don’t see how.” He was quickly losing steam.

“Are you okay?” Your brows furrowed and you looked up at your boyfriend with concern. His eyes were dim, and his brows drew together tensely. He shook his head, and before he knew it, you’d removed your shoes and slid open the shower door.

“You’re getting your clothes all wet.” Miguel protested, all the while trying to keep you from fully entering the shower. You stilled him with a grave look.

“This is more important.” He froze and backed up a few steps as you stepped into the scalding stream of water. Looking up into his eyes, you motioned for him to turn around. Miguel complied, albeit a bit slowly, and tensed when your hands lightly rested on his shoulders.

“Easy.” You soothed, gently rubbing the tense muscles under your touch. Miguel muttered something about ‘not being a spooked horse’, but as your touch grew more insistent, he closed his eyes and relaxed. You began vigorously working out the knots of tension in his shoulders.

“Hm.” Miguel sighed, leaning further into your touch.

“Feel good?” He nodded, and you smiled to yourself. Your hands slid down his back, and Miguel tensed again. You’d been living together for a while, but Miguel had always been a bit cagey when it came to intimacy, struggling to let down those walls.

In this way you were two sides of the same coin. Where you struggled with physical, his was emotional in nature. There were still walls neither of you were ready to breach. You’d only just started sharing the same bed. The air grew thick, and you felt his labored breathing under your hands.

Looking down, you took note of the scars under your fingers. Running jagged to and fro across his back was a pattern of old and newer scars. Your fingers twitched and you felt Miguel go stiff.

“Is this, okay?” You whispered, leaning so that you could see the profile of his face. Miguel took several shallow breaths and nodded slowly. Hesitating for another moment, you looked again at his back and slowly worked over his muscles. “Has anyone ever,”

“No.” His voice came out harder than he’d intended. Glancing over his shoulder, Miguel met your eye. “No.” he said softly before quickly turning to stare at the shower head.

“Oh, Miguel.” He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. Your gentle touch on his neck drew his attention. “Miguel, look at me, please.” He didn’t want to look at you right now. He really didn’t. The last thing Miguel wanted was pity. “Please.” Your tone was pleading. Miguel sighed and flexed the muscles in his jaw before turning his head to meet your gaze again.

He was stunned by what he found there. Not pity, but love. Concern was certainly there, but it was mingled with love. Your hand glided up to frame his jaw.

“Amor, lo siento.” You whispered, pausing to swallow thickly. Miguel felt his brows draw together in confusion.

“Why are you apologizing?” His words came out woodenly. You sighed with a sad smile and released his face to instead wrap your arms around his waist. Miguel again turned his attention to the shower head as you rested your forehead between his shoulder blades.

We really should replace this shower head. He thought to himself. He’d think about anything to distract from this moment. Miguel’s eyes lowered to examine the grout. We really should, your lips brushed lightly over an especially deep scar just below his left shoulder blade.

“I’m sorry you were alone.” You breathed, brushing your lips across another scar.

“I’m sorry no one was there for you.” Another kiss to another scar.

“I’m sorry,” Your voice broke, and you pressed a reverent kiss to yet another scar, but this time let your lips linger. A shudder ran through Miguel’s body, and he closed his eyes, fighting back a groan. You pulled back, but your breath still feathered against his skin. “I’m sorry,” You lightly ran a finger over a new scar. “That I wasn’t there for you.”

“Ninfa,” He groaned as your lips trailed lower down his back. “What are you doing to me?” The words were raw.

“No one has ever kissed them better before, so I’m doing it now.” Miguel’s forehead fell against the shower wall. A sob wracked his body. Reaching behind him, he fished for your hand which you willingly offered.

“Gracias.” He whimpered as he squeezed your fingers.

Miguel O’Hara cried.

But for the first time, in a very long time, he was not alone.

tg. list: @feyhunter78

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I told my friend to wait his turn to speak during our D&D sessions?

I'm in a D&D group with a total of 4 players and a DM, all in our early 20s. My friend is a good intentioned person, but he's a little overbearing and bossy sometimes. In our group, he frequently interrupts when the DM is trying to answer another person's question or explain the setting. He'll also interrupt when a fellow player is talking through their turn or roleplaying an interaction.

At first we would just stop what we were talking about and let him finish speaking. Now, though, it seems like my groupmates are getting annoyed with it, because they will sometimes try to continue talking while he interrupts, so there are two people trying to talk at the same time. It's not world-ending to me, but still frustrating for myself and presumably(?) everyone involved.

If I were to approach him about it, I'd do it 1-on-1 in private. The reason I hesitate: I'm afraid my friend might take it harshly. He and I have known each other for years. He has autism, and when I've brought up issues with his behavior in the past, he has been too hard on himself for his lack of social skills.

Additionally, this is only his second experience with D&D (first one went awry after I introduced him to the group and someone got upset at him for a really trivial matter that wasn't 100% his fault). Our current campaign is FANTASTIC for everyone involved, and I am afraid to spook him by bringing up his behavior and potentially reminding him of the past experience.

So. WIBTA if I privately discussed his habit of interrupting people and risk ruining the campaign for him?

What are these acronyms?

[collapsedglasshouses]

An Angel for Noah || Noah Sebastian x OC [Part 1]

DIVIDER ART WORK BY @cafekitsune

PAIRING: Noah Sebastian x Jules (she/her)

SUMMARY: When Jules finds herself assigned to be a rockstar's guardian angel, she couldn't be more overwhelmed.

WARNINGS: ANGST (LIKE A LOT), talks about death and grief, talks about mental health issues, talks about religion, swearing, … (each chapter is going to have individual content warning, if I forget something pls let me know)

A/N: Hello! I'm back with a new series. I’m not religious at all but I wanted to do something like this because it spooked in my head for years but I never found a fitting story line. Also this was my way to tribute Keaton Pierce, whose music I loved and whose death still makes me so incredibly sad. So this fanfic is dedicated to Keaton and therefore very dear to me.

Keep in mind, this takes place in an alternative universe. Even though I write about real people, the way I write them has nothing to do with how they are in real life.

If you wanna be added to the tag list, please let me know in the comments or DM me.

When her alarm rang at 6 AM, Jules was everything but pleased. The weekend had been way to short and the gravity of life slowly began to hang on her shoulders again. Sometimes she couldn't believe how stressed she was at such a young age.

She was twenty-two years old, a music student at Juilliard and literally all the pride and joy of her family. Being an only child of a couple who wished to have children for years, made it very clear that Jules was going to have everything she needed in life.

So when she crawled out of her bed and made her way into her bathroom, she reminded herself of how proud her parents were always going to be.

When she looked at the clock again, she realised she was running late, so she quickly grabbed her coat and scarf, before heading to the front door, where she reached for her backpack and keys.

Not even five minutes later she ran out of the apartment building and looked from left to right. Quickly she started to walk in the direction of her university. She knew she couldn't be late again. It was only weeks before a very big performance with the school orchestra and this semester she finally got the opportunity to play one of the first violins.

When she reached one of the big crossroads, she quickly glanced at the green traffic light and than back at her phone, ready to dial her best friend's number to inform her about her possibly being late.

But she hadn't had the time for that, because the next thing she knew was a sharp pain in her whole left side and than a hit on her head.

When she woke up again, her head rang. The room she was in, was so bright that her eyes just couldn't adjust to it. It took her several minutes to finally realise where she was. She was laying in a hospital bed. Or was she even laying? She just noticed her parents in front of her. Eagerly Jules tried to remember what had happened but she just couldn't put the pieces together.

"Mom?" She asked weakly but couldn't hear anything except her mother's muffled cries.

Jules felt so different. She could remember the immense pain she had right before she was here but she just couldn't think of the thing that made her feel like that. When she tried to get up, it was easier than she thought. Everything just felt so light and easy.

She sat at the edge of her hospital bed, when she realised that she had no cables attached to her. Why was she even here, when she wasn't even in pain?

"Mom? Dad?" She said again but again her parents didn't answer her.

She sighed before standing up and turning to the bed, when it hit her just like the vehicle earlier this morning.

Why was she still laying in that hospital bed?

Jules's gaze wondered between her parents and herself. Her parents were crying. Her mom almost crumbled in her father's arms, while he tried to hold himself together.

When she looked back at herself in that hospital bed, she just couldn't believe it. She looked awful. Her hair was tangled and a bandage was wrapped around her head. She couldn't even recognize herself anymore. There was no color on her except the blood sticking on her forehead and neck. When Jules noticed that even on her other self no cables were attached, it really hit her.

She was dead.

Her parents cried because they lost the only child they had. The child they loved more than anything. And only because she was looking at her damn phone.

"The driver is still alive." She heard a familiar voice behind her and jumped a little. When she turned, an older man stood at the door of the hospital room and she instantly recognized him.

"Grandpa?" She asked the man in front of her and couldn't believe her eyes. He stood there like she remembered him. Very colorful and satisfied.

"The driver is still alive. A single mother. She also looked at her phone and didn't realize she drove over a red traffic light." He explained and stepped next to his granddaughter.

Jules didn't know what to say so she just looked at her parents again, who couldn't bear to leave her side.

"What now?" She asked her grandpa, who put an arm around her.

"Now begins your new forever, my dear." He answered her softly before guiding her away from the bed. Jules realised she had began to cry. Everything in her wanted to go back inside her body. She didn't want to go. She didn't want to leave her parents.

"Five more minutes." - "Jules, you know it wouldn't be just five minutes."

Her sobs became more hysterical. "I can't go, grandpa. I can't leave them."

Jules closed her eyes for a couple of seconds and tried to contain her cries but when she opened her eyes again, she was in a white room. Confused she looked around her while her tears ran down her face. Her grandpa was gone. Everything around her was just white.

"No!" She screamed and tried to run in one direction to get back to her parents but soon her head was met with a transparent wall. She fell to the white ground and held her head in reflex. She couldn't even feel the impact. In fact she couldn't feel any of the things that happened to her. No head injury, no pain at all.

"Let me out! I NEED TO GO HOME!" She yelled with so much anger and sadness in her voice that she knew she would have had a sore throat if she hadn't been dead and therefore numb already.

"Fuck." She swore and ran a hand over her face. This couldn't be real, this was all just an obscure dream of hers. She would be woken up by her alarm in a couple of minutes and she would go to university and she would drink a coffee with her best friend Meghan after classes and than she would call her parents and talk to her mom for hours, like she always did. "Fucking hell!"

"In fact, it is not." A voice suddenly said, causing Jules to get up from the floor and look around the white room. There was a man she didn't recognise at first, but when she got closer she got even more confused.

"Aren't I supposed to be dead? Why the hell do you look like Oli Sykes?" She asked the person in front of her. He laughed.

"No worries, darling. Oliver is pretty much alive." The man exclaimed while Jules eyed the guy closely. There was literally no doubt, he looked like Oli.

"Then why the fuck do you look like him?" - "Oh, yeah... I'm an angel... You know... Heaven and shit." - "I don't believe in god and that doesn't explain your appearance."

"That is kinda rude, Julliett." The man walked through the empty white room and looked around before his gaze landed on her again. "You may know about angel appearances. We normally don't look very human-like. So we got the regulation to turn into someone our new angel trainee wouldn't be scared of... And since I know about the dirty little fanfiction you read when you thought you were alone, I thought I would make myself attractive to you."

Jules mouth fell open. Did an fucking angel just out call her and her taste in fiction?

Her cheeks must have been a dark red tone, because the Oli look-a-like cleared his throat and began to talk again, "No worries, I wasn't the one who was spying on you. That was own your guardian angel."

Jules couldn't even talk. She hadn't even had the time to process her passing and now some Oli Sykes guy tried to tell her something about heaven and guardian angels.

"I know this is a lot, so imma just talk you through it. I'm just here because your guardian angel is a very busy one... You know... Sometimes not enough people are fitted to become guardian angels and than our workers need to protect more than one person and than things get messy... That's actually why you aren't playing your violin at the moment... BUT... To his defense, he really has some difficult people to watch over and that is where you come into the game." 'Oli' told her, while her mouth still stood slightly open. She knew if she would have been alive right now she would have drank herself into a coma.

"And who is my guardian angel? And where the fuck did my grandpa go?" Jules finally asked.

"Your grandpa his back at his well deserved rest. He just wanted to make sure you got here and wouldn't freak out." - "But I AM freaking out right now." - "Well, you are stuck with us so no need to panic." - "How kind of you."

"To your other question. You guardian angel will be here any minute." 'Oli' explained and with that there was a door banging shut and a stressed man appeared in the nothingness this room was.

"I'm so sorry... I couldn't make it earlier." A man stumbled into the room. He had blonde hair and soft face features. His nose was decorated with a nostril and he wore a band shirt and a black jeans. He instantly made Jules feel comfortable.

"Jules!" The guy exclaimed happily and gifted her one of the most heart-warming smiles she ever received. Immediately she recognized the feeling she had in her stomach right now. She felt it pretty often over the last couple of months. Was it him? Did she always feel it when he was near?

"I'm Keaton... Your guardian angel." He introduced himself to her and she felt herself began to smile. She liked that name.

"I know this is all very confusing. I do remember being in your position pretty well." He instantly started to explain and Jules noticed how his smile turned sad for a moment. He hadn't been here for long. "They are very picky about their guardian angels, so consider yourself lucky to be part of the team." He joked, before looking at the Oli-angel.

"You can go if you want, I'll take care of her." Keaton told the angel and with a last examining look, Oli smiled a little and than disappeared into thin air.

For a couple of seconds Keaton looked like he didn't know what exactly he wanted to say, so Jules decided to take the lead. "I just wanted to thank you for helping me. The Oli look-a-like told me you were really busy with watching over us all... You did your best. I felt protected... You couldn't save me from being dumb and looking at my phone."

Keaton looked surprised by her statement, blinking a couple of seconds before talking. "Thank you. That means a lot to me... I feel really guilty though... You were literally just an adult and now... You are here."

Jules shrugged her shoulders and gave him a reassuring look. "So? Guardian angel? What am I going to do?"

Keaton reached out to grab Jules's hand and before she knew she sat on a bench near a forest. The scenery was beautiful. The sky slowly turned into red tones while the cold wind blew around her face. She wasn't cold, but she felt everything.

"I wasn't really fond of this whole Heaven thing myself... But they really except every opinion. If you don't believe in god, it's fine. If you do, it is also fine. They usually don't have anything to do with this whole thing anyways." Keaton started to explain. "You will be assigned a person, you will guide over."

"And how exactly do I do that?" - "That is yours to find out."

Jules looked at him confused.

"You will find your ways. The only things I can tell you are: You protect them. You need to guide them. You need to prevent them from making mistakes. If you fail, they fail. If you succeed, they will thrive." Keaton explained and Jules didn't know what to say, so she just nodded confused.

"They asked me to assign you someone. You always get to watch over someone that matches you and your energy. It will be easy. Really. I got the opportunity to watch over my friends. My best friends to be exact." He explained further. "So I am more than honored to tell you, you were the first person I was assigned that I didn't already know when I was alive and it was such a fun experience seeing how a twenty-two year old reminded me so much of myself when I was younger."

Jules eyes turned a bit glossy. Seeing Keaton talk about his past and everything, made her so honored and sad at the same time. They were just two souls that were took way to early.

"So, I'm literally going to be the one to support you by taking over some of your duties?" Jules asked interested, nearly forgetting the fact, that she died not even 24 hours earlier. Keaton nodded.

"But since I know you, I decided to give you just one task." Keaton than explained, "It is something I trust you with and I just know, you are going to be the right person for it."

Jules gestured for him to continue talking.

"You need to watch over my friend Noah for me."

PART TWO HERE.

[stayevildarling]

Billie Dean Howard x Reader- I wanna be yours

A/N: I just woke up from a nap and had a dream about Bette Porter. This reminded me so much of Billie so here we are. Hope everyone is doing well🖤

Prompt: You are working as Billie‘s assistant and you are utterly in love with her. Thinking you are quite subtle about it, you quickly realize how wrong you are as Billie can sense a lot more than just ghosts.

TW: flirting, slightly smutty

word count: 1.7k

Tag list: (if you wanna be added or taken off, send me a dm or an ask)

@lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay, @whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson, @isle-of-earle, @paulawand, @paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld

„Is there anything else I can get for you Ms Howard?“ you ask, wrapping your hands around the little folder you carry with you at all times.

Your boss hesitates and you could tell there was something on her mind. You had worked with the medium for quite a while now and despite always trying your best to stay professional, you could tell there was something wrong.

The medium flutters her fingers, touching her fingernails and you could tell by now this meant she was nervous about something.

„I..“ The blonde hesitates and you notice she starts to shake a little bit.

„I don‘t think this is working anymore, you can‘t work for me any longer“ she almost mumbles, the regret and shame visible in her voice and features.

Your world stops turning for a minute. It feels like your breath is knocked from your lungs and your feet swepped away from you.

In the past few months working for Ms Howard, you never thought this job could become something more than that for you. It surely wasn‘t your dream career to be working as an assitant but somewhere along the lines it was all you wanted and needed.

It started off well, learning her coffee and lunch orders and little errands that Ms Howard required during her day. It wasn‘t necessarily part of the job description but you liked running errands for her and making her day a little better each day.

Her words take you back to the first day you saw her, unlike everyone you weren‘t obsessed with Billie Dean Howard, medium to the stars. You had heard about her of course and you watched bits of her show but you never thought you could like her this much.

However, meeting her for the first time completely took your breath away. Your hands were shaking throughout the whole interview because her appearance was breathtaking. Her blonde curls, her perfectly manicured fingernails to her perfect carefully picked outfits. Everything had to match, whether it was a set of pearls on her neck or her perfume. She was quite literally breathtaking.

Of course you had to remind yourself of your part in this, that you aren‘t supposed to be liking her or looking at her this way but you couldn‘t stop yourself. Especially with the little nicknames and petnames that sometimes slipped from her lips. „Thank you darling“ after bringing her her morning coffee and breakfast order.

The two of you grew closer in the months leading up to this, using the summers to stay longer in the office or going to drinks together, of course with more people from the office or using the colder months to go on walks to watch the sunset and so Billie could clear her head, this often helped her to rewind from her days or give her new ideas for her shows.

At some point you earned the mediums trust, maybe it was the way you always quite knew what she needed or that the emails, letters or whatever needed doing was finished each morning before she came into work. When a day at a set didn‘t go quite well, a spirit spooking her a little bit, she wanted to run to you. She wanted to see your calm little face and she liked being in your presence because she felt like you cared and that made Billie feel safe.

Safety isn‘t a feeling Billie would use to describe her life before meeting you, in her childhood she didn‘t necessarily feel safe most of the times and certainly not in her younger years when she suddenly saw bloody ghosts in her bathroom. Figuring out she was a medium and learning how to use her powers helped of course but she never felt quite safe, not knowing when she would have the next scary encounter.

Despite the blonde seeming tough on the outside, it didn‘t quite not affect her like everyone thought. She did spend some of her nights alone crying, finally being able to let her guard down without everyone watching her. Most people didn‘t see her as that but Billie also felt anxious, she didn‘t always like walking into a building, despite knowing there is a camera following her. She did get scared, shaky and sweaty hands and the ocassional heartbeat rising.

„I‘m so sorry Ms Howard, did I do something wrong?“ you ask a little shocked. Your mind automatically runs to a million things you might have done wrong.

„You really don‘t need to call me Ms Howard“ she almost whispers, the guilt causing her perfect features to crease.

Her office fills with silence, everyone already having left for the night and you aren‘t sure what you are meant to do. Should you just leave and accept her decision or should you try and fight for your job and being able to stay in her presence?

„I‘m sorry Ms- Billie“ you reply, feeling a little shy to use her actual name.

„You haven‘t done anything wrong darling“ she replies to your inital question.

Her guilty eyes meet yours after a second and you can‘t help but stare into her brown eyes.

„Then what is it?“ you ask a little hesitantly, as part of you feels like you deserve an explanation.

It takes the blonde a while to reply, you can visibly tell she is struggling to speak the words that are so clearly on her mind.

„It‘s the way you look at me“ she states eventually and the confusion is written in your face.

„I‘m sorry, I don‘t understand“ you explain.

Billie‘s hands start shaking again so she tries to cover it up by playing with her rings.

„You look at me like you are in love with me“ she finally lets the words escape her.

In the past few months you hadn‘t noticed but Billie noticed that your eyes started sparkling whenever you were near her. It looked as if Billie was your whole world, like her presence made your whole day better and as if you would change your whole world for her.

The blonde never knew that feeling as she never found the right person that wasn‘t just after her fame, money and status or wanted nothing more than to spend a night with her. However from her friends and various romantic movies she watched, she knew what it looked like when someone was in love.

She couldn‘t stand the fact that someone truly loved her but at the same time she knew you and she knew that you didn‘t just want those things from her. You liked her for the way she is but that terrified her, so she is trying to do the only thing she has learned her whole life to avoid these feelings.

„Believe me I have had a fair share of assistants that wanted me to do them right on this desk but none of them looked at me the way you look at me“ she explains.

You gasp a little bit, thoughts instantly filling with your head, even though you try to ignore those. Part of you wants to run away and part of you isn‘t sure whether you should stay.

„I‘m sorry.. I..“ you can‘t even form a reply worthy of what she just said. You know she is right and that you have feelings for her and of course you know it‘s inappropriate as she is your boss.

„So is it true?“ Billie asks, catching a glimpse of your eyes before taking a step towards you.

Your breaths gets caught in your throat and you start feeling a little dizzy as you see her beautiful brown eyes lingering on yours.

The blonde is scared, she is terrified of the idea of someone loving her like this, truly and unconditionally, without any intentions other than honest ones. But there is something about the way you still look at her that she can‘t quite comprehend.

Even of the possibility of being sent away and Billie calling out your feelings, you still have that sparkle in your eyes, mixed with a little bit of fear. It‘s as if she could hear your heart beating out of your chest.

„I do“ you whisper as she keeps taking steps towards you, taking all your bravery together. If you had to decide between losing your job or losing the medium forever, of course you would choose Billie, you would choose her in every life time and every universe.

Despite only blinking for a second, while taking a deep breath, it feels like an eternity and when you open your eyes again you suddenly see Billie‘s warm eyes right in front of you and feel her warm breath on your face.

„Kiss me, darling“ Billie whispers before pulling you in. When your soft lips touch hers it feels like your world is complete. If you were to die in this moment it was all worth if, just for her and for this kiss.

The blonde smiles a little into the kiss as your hearts now beat loudly against each others chests. She could tell this was a hungry kiss but it was also really gentle. She could tell you would never want to hurt her and only the best. Despite her being your world you want to give her everything and she can feel it by the way your lips touch hers.

As you stop kissing to gasp for air, you lean your head into Billie‘s neck and she wraps her arms around you. „I never said I didn‘t want to be done on your desk though“ you whisper.

The medium gasps and smiles in surprise at the same time and gently her hands wander down to your hips, her lips finding yours again and gently moving you over to the table, when your back hits her desk gently. She lifts you up and leans down you, trailing your face and neck with kisses.

„What would you like babydoll?“ she whispers, while still kissing you.

„I wanna be yours Ms Howard“ you whisper and smile cheekily and all you can hear in return is a pleased chuckle from the blonde, still lingering over your body.

[sparklingsin]

THE STRANGER THINGS SPOOKINKTOBER WRITING CHALLENGE!

calling all stranger things writers! i am a hosting a spookinktober (a combination of spooktober and kinktober) writing challenge for the older stranger things characters!

note: you must be 18+ to enter this challenge!

how it works

reblog this post! (sorry but better reach)

send me an ask with any prompts from the list below and a character you want to write for. you can choose how many ever prompts you like in whatever combination (e.g. one from the spooky prompts and two from kinky or only one from kinky etc.)

prompts are not tied to a person, but picking unique, unchosen prompts is encouraged. (prompts that are being used by one or more people will have an ☆ against them)

each ask counts as one fic and you can send as many asks as you like!

there is no restriction on the type of fic (fluff/smut/angst/anything)

it can be a blurb, a one shot, a series, a 23k word fic, but it has to be a reader insert!

tag me and/or use the hashtag #strangertober when posting. (also please mention what your prompts are in the fic, or link to your ask if possible) posting starts on 1st of october and the soft deadline is 31st october, of course, which is when i will be organising the fics into a giant masterlist! you can continue posting after but please try to post it asap since it is an october related challenge!

and that's it! please send me an ask/dm me any questions you may have.

happy writing! 🎃👄

prompts below the cut:

SPOOKY PROMPTS: (this is a combination of sentence starters, settings and random words you can use in the fics)

There was a howling in the distance, but it was coming closer and closer. Now, it was too late to run. ☆

"This is bad. This is very very bad." ☆

"I bet you won't manage to scare me tonight!"☆

"Haha, look! This pumpkin looks just like you!"

“Would you stop stuffing your face with candy for one moment and listen???”☆

“Well that doesn't sound good. Fucking hell.”

“Does that even count as a costume? Or lingerie?” ☆

Making out in a graveyard can lead to some very unexpected things. ☆

“This isn’t a ghost story. It’s a creature features. It’s really happening, and you’re all in it.”

“We are not doing a couple’s costume.”  ☆

Car doesn’t start

“How do you expect me to sleep after that?”

“Show me your haul.”

Falling, fruit picking, and a rain storm ☆

Playing with Ouija Boards

“You look ridiculous. I love it.”☆

“I dare you to go down there.”

“Is it just me or did it just get really cold in here?”

“You were gone…I watched you disappear.”

“Somebody’s watching us.”

"It is pretty spooky down here and it smells pretty unnatural so… Yeah. Okay. I’m coming back up." ☆

"I’m scared to close my eyes. I’m scared to open them. "

" Whatever you do, don't fall asleep."

“Can you stop breathing down my neck?” “Dude, I’m over here.” ☆

Pumpkin carving, a haunted forest, and oversized sweaters ☆

"You're holding my hand." "I just don't want to get lost in the woods at night." ☆

“Alright, well, it looks like a pit of eternal darkness so…”

Late night, consistent door knocking, and an empty front porch. ☆

"Quick, switch costumes with me." ☆

trick-or-treating shenanigans ☆

graveyard ☆

scary movie night ☆

halloween party ☆

too many shadows

cave at a beach, moonlight ☆

in a dark and deserted side hall of an infamous library ☆

halloween sleepover ☆

trapped in a haunted house

haunted house date ☆

large dog

black cat ☆

pumpkins

clowns ☆

dark clouds, an empty house ☆

three knocks, a child crying

abandoned house ☆

spook decorations

a room full of candles ☆

KINKY PROMPTS: (again, this is a mix of dialogues and specific kinks)

Shower sex ☆

"Be brave for me, baby."

Car sex ☆

" I’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know." ☆

Sixty-nining

"Show me how much you missed me." ☆

Praise kink

“Wanna join?”

Erotic photos

"Want me to serenade you while you strip?" ☆

Nipple play

"Never tease me like that again. "

“Touch me and you lose.” ☆

Breeding kink ☆

"Keep talking shit and I'll show you the other things I can do with that mouth of yours." ☆

"It's hot when you talk back." ☆

Fingering ☆

Cockwarming ☆

"If you think being in public is going to stop me, you're sorely mistaken." ☆

Thigh riding ☆

“I came so hard last night just from a picture of you." ☆

"I've never been this wet before.”

Orgy

"Did i give you permission to come?" ☆

Corruption kink ☆

“I’m hard/wet.” “Sounds like a personal problem.” ☆

Phone sex

Public sex

Semi-public sex

Voyeurism

"Be a good boy/girl and spread your legs."

Edging

"You're mine, and only mine."

Mirror sex ☆

"Please, just touch me."

Squirting

"I missed your hands so much."

Cock worship

"Don't make me stop this car, because I promise you, you'll regret it." ☆

Cosplay/costume

"I've been thinking about your fingers all this time."

Skinny dipping ☆

"Bite your lip one more time and we'll have a serious problem." ☆

Dirty talk

note: you can use other kinks etc ofc (except non/dub-con) but your fic must include atleast ONE of these prompts to be a part of this challenge.

Excited to read what everyone writes! Have fun!

tagging some mutuals for visibility (you don't have to participate but a reblog would help!!<3): @sunshinehollandd @angeloddity @taylorsmylover @royalmaybank @lurkymurker @silkscream @darthkenobii @sophia-busch @magicchai

*sourced these prompts from various tumblrs and google

[randaccidents]

Intro Post thingie!!!

Finally making an intro post <3

So hi! Welcome to where I make Random Accidents happen!

Just call me Randa, any pronouns work for me I don't have a preference. I'm a creative who specialized a little too heavily into writing and worldbuilding :3

I'm also randaccident13 on AO3!

Unfortunately my dear mutuals, I am old (sike I'm in my early 20s), and unfortunately further to half my mutuals, my timezone is GMT +8. (I simply sleep at ass o clock in the morning)

Main Tags:

Art: #rand.art (my old tag is #my art, I couldn't be bothered to change all the way back 4 years of work)

Writing: #rand.writ (my old tag is #my writing, I couldn't be bothered to change all the way back 4 years of work)

Headcanons: #rand.hc

Me talking shit: #rambles

RP related stuff (cause I cant stop chattering about it it has consumed my brain): #rp chatter

Answered asks: #reply

Current interests

Currently? CCCC/Chonny Jash. Guys I am so insane about it.

There's also a side of: Minecraft (I never left the mine), Hermitcraft, WTNV, Fallen London (sorta), MILGRAM Project, Hollow Knight/Silksong (please please please release this year) and Honkai Star Rail

AUs

Cause they are getting CLUTTERED around here, here's a list of all the AUs I have currently:

Heartless AU (Masterpost here)

Tangled Wisteria AU (currently no masterpost, use #Tangled Wisteria AU)

Lie of Concord AU (currently no masterpost, use #Lie of Concord AU)

Tridential Whole (just my personal interpretation that went a little wild, use #Tridential Whole)

Rotten Faith over on @tridential-sauce

(And for the oldies here: #shadow people au <- this the tag for all my writing under SPAU when I was still part of the community)

I've got my ask box open and I'm always open for interaction! And asks! I'm an AU writer after all, asks might inspire something (most likely angsty sdfnsjk). But beware that I might ghost you if you spook me with a random DM or ask.

Credit for dividers goes to cafekitsune

[smolvenger]

Miss Narracott and The Captain, Part Four (Capt. James Nicholls x fem! Reader Miniseries)

Fandom: War Horse

Series Summary: It is 1912-1914. You are Y/N Narracott, the older sister of Albert Narracott. You must do what you can so your family can keep their farm. And so your brother can keep his beloved horse. Under financial struggles, you never expect romance to come into your life...until you have a chance encounter with James Nicholls- a Captain with a knack for drawing. But the threat of war lingers in the air...

Chapter Word Count: 7K (one of the bigger ones)

Part One//Part Two//Part Three//Part Four//Part Five Coming Soon!

Chapter Warnings: Angst and Fluff. Reader being thirsty (can you blame her), but no smut. Jealousy. It's a light, Diet Slow Burn. I choose violence by selecting a cliffhanger for the ending. Attempts at historical accuracy and Cottagecore vibes.

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

A/N: Comments, Reblogs, DMs, and Asks about my work are always appreciated! Feel free to ask to be tagged in this and/or my other stuff! Thank you!

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract

@eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @infinitystoner @12-pm-510

Autumn 1913

That Sunday, You and Albert went about on one of your typical Sunday walks. As usual, Joey trotted next to you. The long grass was turning brown. The sky was so bright, yet the air was very crisp. The trees were growing orange with the harvest.

“And how was sitting in that rowboat with Lyons?” he asked, recalling the church picnic yesterday.

“Dreadful. I thought I’d fall asleep from how he droned on!” you recalled.

Joey shook his head and let out a neigh. You patted his nose. Then reached up a hand to run through his mane.

“He agrees with you on that one!”

After a beat, Albert asked.

Y/N, have you ever ridden him?”

“Oh no! Not even tried! I don’t know if I can!” you cried.

“Come on, try it!” Albert suggested, handing over the reins.

“But Albie, I could get hurt! I’m not the type to gallop!” you objected.

“Oh, he won’t! He only gallops if you urge him on! Or some loud sound spooks him! Come on- have some fun, Y/N!” Albert argued.

Albert did it all the time. He made it look so easy. And you were curious. You never rode horses. No one taught you how. Usually, the horses on your farm were for plowing instead of riding.

"Just once, Y/N! Save your feet!" Albert suggested.

You wanted to feel less afraid of things. You heard of people dying when they fell off horses. You wanted to feel in control. You envied Albert's freedom in private to run around after farmwork. And his bravery in training and riding a galloping horse. You wanted to know what it was like...and there was only one way how.

Not that you hated Joey- oh no! By now, Joey was a member of the family. He had grown bigger than the colt your family's future depended on to a gorgeous stallion. He even had a special saddle, bridle, and reigns for him. The dear horse would even sometimes trot up to you as you left the house for work. He'd nuzzle against you and sometimes let you brush his mane. One time you and Albert put your gloves on Joey’s ears for fun. Then you both roared into laughter at how his twitching ears moved the gloves like eager hands on his head. And wasn't that why many people kept horses as pets? To ride them?

“Alright...I’ll ride him. Just show me how,” you said.

“Wonderful! He can sense if you’re nervous, so just calm yourself! I won’t make him go fast!” he promised.

Albert was big and strong for a boy of sixteen now. He put his hands around your waist and hoisted you up on the saddle. Joey only let out a small sound at the feeling of your weight on him. But the horse kept still and even moved his head to glance at Albert. You swung your legs to be on one side like you noticed ladies doing. You held onto the reigns tightly.

"You see how he stood still when you got on him? That's proof he likes you!” Albert informed.

"Lead him, Albie. He doesn't really listen to anyone else," you advised.

"Come on, Joey! Let's give Y/N a ride back home!" he ordered, clicking his tongue as he gestured to the horse.

Joey began to move on the path back home, and you gasped some. You were on a breathing, living thing that could throw you off!

Balance your weight, Y/N...and be sure to keep your heels down,” Albert taught you.

You shifted to make sure your body was even and secure. Your leg stretched as you pointed your heels down.

"Good boy, Joey! Gentle…gentle…" You urged as he walked forward.

You felt Joey’s body relax under you and you relaxed on Joey. With the slow pace, you did release one hand to briefly pet him. It wasn't too far from home. You both had walked down the usual path- you and Albert had been perhaps- at most- ten miles down. And the meters were flying by. You heard the clop-clop of his hooves beneath the ground.

You got used to the pace. It was a pleasant day. The sun was shining, and one could hear the birds whistling at each other. The grass only dipped with the gentle wind. Autumnal colors painted the few trees that formed lines across the green fields.

Although it was a hilly area, Joey was used to it. Any larger rocks were stepped over or avoided. The slope on the path was slight. Though you did eye the side of the hill nervously. If you fell, you'd be rolling all the way down the hill like a wheel barrel until you landed among the sheep in the valley. You placed a hand on Joey's skin to note his temperature. If he was getting hot, he'd be slow and it was dangerous to ride a hot horse, according to Albert. But he didn't feel bad. Probably the cool air that kept him happy.

"We can go a little faster," you suggested.

"Alright!" Albert complied.

He then walked a little faster and clicked his tongue. Joey picked up speed to prance. You found yourself smiling. The Narracott House and farm appeared in the distance. Albert then looked up at you.

"You think you can ride him back?" he asked, pointing to the farm.

"Yes, I think I'd like to try!" you answered, feeling braver.

Albert then picked up his pace to a light jog and clicked his tongue.

“Okay Joey-little faster, boy!” he said.

Joey’s prance became a light run. You let out a squeal at the speed.

"Y/N! Don't scare him! And tug the reigns when you want him to slow down! Or click your tongue!" he instructed, though he was jogging next to you and getting breathless.

You smiled, feeling the sun on your skin and the clean, fresh air. You felt buzzed with movement, nature, exercise, and life. Joey passed Albert to head home. Why- in fact- it was fun! It felt like flying! You could feel how Joey’s black mane would tickle you. The air in your face was like a kiss. Albert was laughing as he kept up behind you. You were not worried about anything for once. You could enjoy the feeling of air and of your weight not touching the ground but moving. Beneath you, everything was smaller and flying faster, quicker by you. You couldn't help but giggle at it despite yourself. And sooner, sooner the farm was in view.

"Let’s keep walking home, alright boy? Keep this up, and I'll give you a whole apple from the tree! All for you!" you promised.

Once you approached the farmland, you tightened the reigns. And then clicked your tongue too for good measure.

"Slower, Joey, slower!" you urged.

Joey did slow his gait down to a mere trot. You pulled the reigns to lead him to walk through the yard to the horse area in front of the stable.

"Good boy, Joey. You're the best boy out there!" you said.

Tugging on the reigns (as you saw Albert do) Joey stopped. You then petted him.

"You're far better than half the boys in Devon! And far more handsome too!" you whispered with a giggle.

Joey brushed his lips in response. Harold the Goose let out a honk as you made your way back into the circular field in front of the stables.

"There, Joey! What a good boy! Who's the best boy?" you cooed. "You deserve an apple and a carrot too for good measure, don't you! Yes, you do!"

You hopped off. You began petting him. Albert caught up behind you. You looked into Joey's eyes, wrapping your arms around his head. Cuddling him as you would a cat. You heard Albert exclaim.

"Why- sir! Hello sir!"

"Albie, I’m not a sir-"

The rest of that phrase was cut off as you turned to see Captain Nicholls in his coat with his sketchbook. You jumped.

"Captain Nicholls! We weren't expecting you!" you cried.

"It's alright! At least your mother had plenty of leftovers for lunch!" he replied.

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

“I only hoped to draw the horse and the other creatures on the farm! What, may I ask, are you doing on Joey?” Nicholls teased.

“I…I only just rode him for the first time!” you explained.

Albert strolled up with a grin.

“Did you see that sir?” he asked Nicholls.

“Indeed, I did! I saw her gallop in from inside the house as I was done eating!” he replied.

“And how did she do?” Albert asked.

The captain turned to you.

“You did excellent Miss Narracott! You’re a natural!” he praised.

“I’ll keep that in mind, sir. You think I have a horsewoman in me?” you asked.

“If not already!” he quipped.

The picture of him and that girl at the Goose Fair snuck into your brain. You excused yourself and walked inside the house. Mum was already in the kitchen, watching the oven.

“Mum, tell me- where’s the feed? I want to make sure the animals have their lunch! Or the floors- they need a scrubbing,” you chatted. It was better to immediately distract yourself.

“There’s some dry laundry that needs folding!” she noted.

You ran out and got the dry laundry basket, bringing it to the table to fold.

She got a pan out of the oven. She set the hot, baked loaf on the windowsill, opening it up to cool. Mum then glanced out the window. James Nicholls could be seen out on the field with Joey already got his pencils and chair out and was starting to draw. Albert opened the door to the fence and then returned to talk with the guest.

“He sure does come around here, often, Captain Nicholls…” Mum commented.

“Yes…he does…” you agreed.

She turned around and sat down. Getting a fresh shirt from the basket and putting it on the table. But she paused. She glanced at you with a smile.

“Y/N, I will let you know…he has been perfectly nice to us and to your father. We…we do like him…” she prodded to you.

You set down the skirt you were working on.

“What are you implying?” you asked.

She glanced outside. Once it was clear that the men were far away, she leaned into you, placing a hand over yours.

“Y/N…if he’s showing up here often, I doubt it’s just for the animals…” she whispered with a smile.

You jerked back, shaking your head.

“It is for the animals. He’s seeing a girl!” you objected.

“How do you know?”

“Saw them together at the fair!”

Your mother blinked, her shoulders drooping.

“Oh…well then…there’s that…but don’t you think he was talking to her, nothing more?” she muttered.

Tears stung your eyes. False hope was not something you could afford. You grabbed the laundry basket with a grip.

“I’m going to do this in my room now…” you dismissed.

She put a hand on your shoulder to stop you.

“You…you have feelings for him, don’t you?” she asked.

You paused.

“Yes…that’s why it hurts…” you confessed.

She squeezed your shoulder.

“I’m glad you told me, Y/N; we can deal with your broken heart together…”

The laundry basket was placed on the table. You reached over to hug her. Quiet tears poured out of you for only a minute.

Though the sound of hooves made you look up. Then you gasped and jumped.

Joey was leaning his head through the windowsill to try to sample the cooling bread. You got out a tablecloth, batting it at him as Mum burst into laughter and so would you. Yes, bit by bit, day by day, your feelings for James Nicholls would pass…

Winter 1914

January arrived- cold, bitter, gloomy January. Thank goodness for the snow. It turned everything white and crisp and beautiful. It was one of those snowy days that saw her again. The slender blonde all the way from the summer. You knew in your stomach that it was her. She walked in with another fashionable coat and hat that you had eyed in a high-end catalog.

“Good day, welcome to Mrs. Snow’s shop,” Mary greeted, professional as always.

“The same to you,” she replied.

She only half-nodded at you as you looked about. Alice then turned the corner. She spoke in her chirrupy voice.

“Can I help you, Miss…”

“Corbyn. Sarah Corbyn,” the blonde lady introduced herself.

“Miss Corbyn, what are you looking for?” asked Alice.

“I am looking for scarves. The ones from Mrs. Valerie makes.”

“Those scarves? Oh, we just sold our last one, I’m so sorry!” Alice lamented.

“Oh, well, that is too bad…I know things run out for you here,” Sarah said with a smile.

“We will inform you when they are in stock! Ask any time!” Alice encouraged.

“How good! Thank you!”

Sarah sauntered around. Looking through items with a smile on her face. She then turned to you with a smile. She held up a bar of soap.

“Could I please have this Miss…”

“Narracott.”

“I should like to buy this lavender one, please,” she said.

She handed you the money and bought the soap. Shop bag around her arm, She then wandered over and got a newspaper, returning to you.

“Miss Narracott…there is a dance in two weeks, correct? There is the advert for the town hall…”

She pointed at it, and you glanced at it.

“Yes, yes, it is…Two per month,” you confirmed.

“I must ask you a favor. I am quite nervous despite myself! As a fellow woman, may I confide in you?” she cajoled.

“Yes. At least before Mrs. Snow arrives,” you said.

“Do you happen to know a gentleman named Captain Nicholls?” she asked.

Your eyes never left hers. You placed your hands on the counter to keep steady.

“Yes. Yes, I do.” You answered.

“My father invited him and a few of his men on a walk through the country this past Autumn. I joined them. It was a rather long walk all over. I do enjoy jumping from high places. I got to a tall rock, jumped off like so and Captain Nicholls caught me! It was the most thrilling moment of my life! And he’s quite strong too! Fathers invited him to call sometimes for tea- but I hope it’s for more than that! Miss Narracott, I believe I have affection for him and him for me! I do hope he likes me!” she voiced.

The ears floated in your brain. Never landing. Never processing. The images stuck to you, and you wanted to wash them off. But politeness and the fact you were at work forbade you.

“Other than the catching, what makes you think that?” you asked.

“Well, last Friday, I told him how I never usually go to dances. He asked why. I said, among other things, I tend to prefer better things to do with my time and I never have partners. He promised me two dances! Two! That’s a sign if ever!” Sarah continued. Her smile never drooped.

“That’s very…very good. Good for you,” you replied.

You desperately wished there was new cloth to fold or items to restock this minute.

“Well, do you think my father would approve?” she whispered.

There was a glint in her eyes. A thin eyebrow of hers arched up.

“He has no reason not to,” you answered.

“Oh, how kind you are! How good of you!” she replied.

It did not sound like a genuine compliment. She reached into her bag and retrieved her purchase.

“And I do like this soap! I advise you to buy it yourself! It helps keep away smells- especially that of farms,” she added.

It hit you like a slap. You forced your jaw shut else it’d hinge off. She then said her goodbyes, placed her soap in her bag and flounced away. Gripping onto the counter, you turned away to try to collect yourself. The three others all grimaced at each other and began to gossip about her.

“And she seemed so nice!” Mary cried.

Ida went up to you.

“I heard that last sentence! The nerve of her! Don’t you listen to her, Y/N! If she sets foot in this shop again, I’ll slap her! Mrs. Snow would fire me, but it’d be worth it!” she encouraged, rubbing your arm.

You stayed quiet.

To think this was the girl James Nicholls liked!! Other than her beauty and money, what did he see in her? Could he end up married to someone like her? All this- finding you, singling you out. Rubbing everything into your face. Why was she doing this? Had Nicholls somehow mentioned the Narracott farm? Then no doubt she found out that you- a single woman-lived there. And she wanted to make sure you knew she had her claws on him.

You let out a sigh. It would feel good to complain about her to Mum and perhaps Albert too.

When you returned home, you ran upstairs. You stared at the rabbit drawing. It was still pinned up against the wall. You didn’t have the heart to tear it to ribbons or burn it. James was never yours, to begin with. So, you only settled for keeping it in the first drawer of your desk. It was too tender. It was too kind. You could always fold it up and look at it. It was a gift that showed kindness and appreciation. Even if not specifically to you, but to your family.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

That winter there was more ice than usual. It sleeted all over the ground. Poor Joey couldn’t break into one of his famous runs about the yard. He’d have to be careful or slip. A blizzard swept over for a week, keeping everyone inside and closing businesses. When it calmed down, men poured salt onto the ground. Everyone could walk around again like normal. Animal or human.

When the shop reopened, customers filed in, each one more demanding than the last. More than once you had to fetch Mrs. Snow to reason with them. Even your co-workers were all complaining.

“I don’t know if I can talk to another Mrs about hat pins now,” Ida groaned.

“I’d like to sit for a bit for once!” you sighed.

Everyone was quite grateful when the last customer left, and the hour struck for closing. Mrs. Snow turned the sign on the window to say “CLOSED”. You gathered your basket, and put on your hat, dark coat, and gloves. You managed to get yourself a new pair for winter. But you didn’t want to discard the single one- it was too pretty. You began to head out.

“Goodbye, Alice! Ida! Mary!”

They all wished goodbye to you.

But as you began to walk out, the wintry air bit you. You shivered with the snow falling down like sprinkles.

But after a few steps who should run into you but Captain Nicholls in his long coat walking about town. You did not notice any lady near him. He grinned and approached you. You fought the bitterness in your heart. You greeted him with a smile.

“Captain, it is good to see you. It’s been a while since you graced our farm!” you greeted.

“A certain storm provided quite the obstacle. May I walk with you, Miss Narracott?” he asked.

“Thank you… you may,” you permitted.

You kept walking on. His own long stride was slowed. Some leftover ice had stretched out to the roads. Motorcars and carts had to be slow. Not to mention people.

“You have lived here over a year, what do you make of it? Country life too quiet for your liking?” you asked.

“Oh no- it’s perfectly fine and comfortable to me!” he chatted.

“And the people?”

“Oh, everyone has been splendid! Quite splendid! All the men agree!”

You didn’t want to mention the women. Lips shut, you would not play the game of manipulation and false sweetness Sarah did.

“And how have they been?” you asked.

“Good and jolly. Not that the storm stopped training or patrolling.”

As you turned over one corner you realized that the road was slipping beneath your feet. Looking down, you saw ice below your feet. You even let out a gasp and held out a hand to regain balance.

“Miss?” asked Nicholls.

“I’m quite alright!” you tried to assure him.

There was ice right before your path for several feet. And as you tried to take another step, you felt yourself wobble. If you didn’t solidify your footing, you would trip. Nicholls looked over and saw you were swaying with your arms still open. He walked slower and heavier, side by side in his gait.

“Here Miss Narracottt-allow me!” he proclaimed.

He held out his hand and took your hand. Gloves on gloves.

“Let me help you, how does that sound?” he asked.

You nodded.

How warm his hand felt. Even beneath the leather - the only thing keeping you from the contact of his bare skin against your bare skin. You felt the air in your lungs pause, only to rush out for want of air. You became nervous and excited at once- fearful and thrilled. He smiled gently at you as he held your hand. How handsome he looked- a shining star in the sky, an angel in a uniform. Letting all petty thoughts of jealousy melt away if only for a few minutes.

He guided you on the ice. He advised you how to walk slowly. Side to side with full weight on each foot. The way a duck waddles on land.

You curled your fingers over the base of his hand. You could tell he was strong like Miss Corbyn said. He seemed unbothered to lend the support you needed to keep from falling. And how gentle his hands were despite their size and strength. The leather was kept clean, and his touch did not squeeze you, but it was the right pressure. How safe he made you feel. You lingered, enjoying the touch until you made it to the not iced sidewalk. Then he let go of your hand. Your own remained in the air until you retreated it back.

“There- are you alright?” he asked.

You blinked, coming back to reality. Feeling a bit of air where you missed his touch. Even covered in gloves.

“I am,” you confirmed.

“Is there anything else you need, Miss Narracott?”

“Well, no. There’s nothing. I only ask for a safe passage back home.”

“Then, do you need me to walk you back there? Is it icy?”

“It’s not as bad…but it’s there…”

“Then let me walk you back. I wouldn’t want you to fall and get hurt.”

Through the white, thick snow, he walked you there. Only holding your hand again if it seemed the only path forward had ice on it. It made you wish that the men of the town poured less salt about the ground.

Spring 1914

Finally, Spring arrived with pomp and splendor. With the turnips and crops blooming, you could use your wages to have a ticket for a dance and a new dress to go with it. But Dad insisted Albert accompany you there and dance too. Your brother grumbled when he heard.

“You’ll never meet any girls if you stay cooped up with Joey!” you teased your brother.

“Neither will you meet any fellows!” he retorted as you both cleaned up the dishes.

He looked around. Mum and Dad were relaxing by the fireplace. Then leaned in.

“But…will Lyons be at the party?” he whispered.

“I don’t know…don’t think so. Said he hates dancing. He told me he likes to spend evenings checking his accounts with brandy.”

The evening of the dance, you checked your mirror to make sure your hair looked nice. When it met your approval, you looked at the new dress on you. In its pink with shortened sleeves, it was the nicest one you could afford to splurge on. The color’s shade looked flattering on you. Just like the ones in your garden. You wanted to forget work, the family’s rent, Miss Corbyn and Nicholls, Lyons's interest in you…and there were plenty of men in town. You only wanted to have a good time while you still could. As it matched the season, you wanted to be like a flower. To enjoy being in “bloom” when you still had it within you.

Entering the dance hall, all was happy and astir. Though this time paid for and hosted by the local militia. It seemed every young person in Devon had arrived there. No Mr. Lyons but his son, David, was gulping down glasses of punch. It was a large place with the walls painted light green. There was an open space with chairs shoved to the side for the dancing. There were two long tables filled with refreshments and drinks. It was brightly lit with the new electricity running through the place. The crowd flocked inside, and many among them were the green-uniformed soldiers.

It felt warm already. You heard the cacophony of a thousand conversations appearing at once. Many held plates and ate standing or sat in a chair. Flowers, fresh with the season's arrival, decorated each corner. A string quartet and piano, played by locals, were getting their music books in order, and warming up. You didn't know which would intoxicate the partygoers faster. The wine and champagne, the music, the dancing, the thrill, or the flowers.

Then the host went forward and said that the first dance was about to begin. Men selected their partners. They brought the ladies, blushing and smiling, out onto the floor as the musicians turned their music books to the first page.

“I barely remember any of the steps!” Albert complained.

“Oh, please! The ladies will thank you later! There are never enough men in the dance hall! They’ll always appreciate it,” you replied.

“Well, where’s dinner? I’m starving!” Albert complained.

Both of you walked over to the table. As you began helping yourself to a plate, Albert went over to talk with his good friend, Andrew Easton. You did notice out of the corner of your eye was Sarah Corbyn. She dressed elegantly in purple. The richness complimented her blonde hair. A silk ribbon tied about her waist, accentuating how tiny she was. And of course, she was talking to all the soldiers. You turned your head. You didn’t want to see it. Didn’t want it in your face. No- you would do your best to smile and be charming. Do all you can to win over as many dance partners as the evening allows.

"Oh, Y/N! I am so glad! How much we missed you!" cried Alice, running up to give you an embrace. She was decked in a lovely yellow complimenting her brown locks.

"Alice! I've missed you too! Especially seeing every man in Devon fight to be your partner!" you said.

"Oh, stop it!"

"It's true and you know it!"

"Oh, you should see Mary- she's already on the floor!"

In one corner, talking to other soldiers, you saw Captain Nicholls. He had removed his hat and placed it under his arm. You even could make out his laugh as one made a joke with him. How striking he looked even among them. And his smile made you smile as well. The gentleman pointed to his silk cap and took it off, showing it to Nicholls. He inspected it, looking at it thoroughly with his handsome hands. Then he handed it back. Nicholls said one thing that was indistinguishable, which broke the group into laughter. When his head turned, you looked away.

Once you finished your plate, you met your friends. Beaming and smiling, you managed to find a partner for the next dance through a mutual friend of Alice’s. As you went over to a table to get a glass of lemonade, two soldiers walked by, chatting. Not once did they glance at you, engrossed in their conversation. You heard the tenor voice of the first one clear as chimes.

“…I would say I should be shocked, but I’m not…. always had a bit of the romantic in him…” the first gossiped.

“Hard as he keeps it in, he does, Old James. A romantic wouldn’t have that sketchbook…” the second said.

You paused. Realizing you wanted to overhear. Before you could stop yourself.

“He’s mad about the girl! He’s a Romeo but you’d never guess it when he charges…”

“Jamie says he lights up whenever someone asks about her…”

“You don’t think…he’ll make an offer, sooner or later? I bet her father would lose his head to have a Captain as a son-in-law!”

“Oh, it’s only a matter of time. I doubt it’ll be long…they say things are getting tense. With every alliance Britain got itself into…it won’t be long then…he’ll hurry her to the altar…”

Swallowing back tears, you promptly turned away. You would not, no, could not listen further. You joined Albert and Andrew. You would distract yourself, you would…

Besides, you were determined to move on. To distract yourself. To meet with every young, eligible man you could. To give yourself options. Before the next dance began, you turned to Andrew.

"How about a dance? You must break out into there!" you prodded.

"Why, sure thing, Y/N!" he agreed.

As you began to dance as he discussed how his dad was doing. Talked about Joey. About the Easton family dog. Andrew was a stiff and awkward dancer, but as he talked, he relaxed some. You then went to your friends.

"Ida...how many of the soldiers and officers have you met? Could you please introduce me?" you requested.

Ida's face lit up like it was her birthday.

"Oh, I know some!" she bragged.

"I want to spend as much time dancing as I can!"

"To make up for the lost time?" she asked.

"Yes," you replied.

It was mostly true. You were not going to tell anyone other than your mother how you felt about Nicholls. She kept secrets better than anyone.

"Then, let me show you one gentleman! Booker's his name and he's a wonderful dancer! Oh, and Mister Smith, too!"

Ida couldn't have been better. You found out you had plenty of young officers to meet and chat with. And some of them danced with you! Though often you had to sit down and rest your feet. Even to admire everyone. There was a good balance of sitting and resting with dancing. And with a full crowd, there were plenty of other handsome faces to focus on.

Even Albert himself was smiling a little. He danced with several girls. He blushed bright red when he missed steps but kept dancing anyway. You did notice David Lyons and how smooth new his grey suit was. There was a red-haired girl, very pretty, who danced two in a row with him. It looked like she was the one to endure his sneering.

“Ah, the Narracotts!” said a low, familiar voice.

Turning around, you saw Major Stewart. He bowed in his uniform, and you returned the gesture. And right next to him, there was Nicholls. Your heart leaped into its chest.

“Why, haven’t seen any of you yet! How are you gents this evening?” Albert asked.

“Oh, just fine! The men here- we’re all happy to have some fun!” he responded.

“I hope you’ve been well, Mister and Miss Narracott! We haven’t seen the two of you all evening!” Nicholls queried.

“We have been,” you replied.

“And Albert, how’s Joey?” he said.

“Fit as can be! And gallopin’ every day, sir!” Albert declared.

“Don’t overwork him so he cannot plow,” Nicholls advised.

“Oh no sir, only after the plowing’s done! You should have plenty of time to draw him again if you want,” Albert responded.

“I shall be glad to!”

His eyes softened. They turned to you.

“Then…Miss Narracott, could I have the next dance?” he asked.

You had no partner. You could think of no excuse. You felt stupid just standing there looking at him. Part of you swallowed a scream of joy. The other part cried “No!” There was no polite way to turn him down- ladies had to dance whenever a gentleman offered. You replied.

“Yes…yes you may,” you permitted.

He offered his hand, and you took it, swallowing. Realizing you felt his bare palm on yours. It was calloused by his work with weaponry. You felt both enthralled and relaxed from his tender touch. You let him lead you on as other couples made their way around.

Just like when he helped you when the road was icy. You can indulge in it. Let him take your hand. Enjoy only one dance with him. Just one.

You let him put one hand on your back. Feeling the light pressure. You could see his thick lashes and the blueness of his eyes. You put a hand on his arm, feeling the texture of the uniform. He smelled like light sweat from dancing and cologne. You felt his breath and could even tell the slight lift in his muscles when he inhaled.

“I hope you forgive me. I’m rusty at this. I used to go dancing all the time. With work, not as much…” you explained.

Other couples gathered on the floor around you. You looked directly at him and him at you.

“I can understand. I used to avoid them,” Nicholls confided.

“How come?”

“I was too shy when I was younger. Couldn’t gather the courage to ask a girl. Then when I did, I did the wrong steps. I’d crush a girl’s toe. They all will tell you as proof!”

The violins put their bows on the strings. And you started to dance with him. Moving with his lead.

“You’re keeping out of mine just fine…I think you’re a lovely dancer, Captain…” you encouraged.

“Really?” he asked.

“Like your drawings…you should enjoy it. You should be here…”

He led you to sway as you stepped your feet into a square pattern. You accepted it. Letting him start to pull and push you with the music.

“And Miss Narracott?” he said.

“Yes?”

“You look pretty as a picture tonight.”

Your mouth went dry, and you felt the racing of your heart against your chest.

“You’re very kind, sir,” you replied.

You continued the dance. Feeling the step of the music’s downbeat. He kept turning you around and you danced with him. Let the music take you both. You could almost hear his heartbeat from how close you were.

He took a step back and you took a step forward. When he stepped sideways you followed. It was all so simple. You clutched onto his hand and let his hand on your back press you closer. The waltz was at a moderate tempo. You felt eyes look directly into yours. You couldn't peal your eyes off Nicholls either. He gave a small smile. The way he would step into the downbeat was natural, and you found that you followed.

A glimpse at the crowd showed Stewart smiling, crossing his arms. But Albert's eyes were wide, staring intensely at both of you. He hadn't done that with your previous partners. Nicholls, as always, was dashing in his green uniform. His closeness made you notice details. You can see each button on it. How pressed and perfect it was. Smooth as the round buttons ran down his chest. The four pockets- two on top and two on the bottom are like windows on a building. His lighter green shirt contrasted with his darker green tie. The lovely and ornate cream decorations on his sleeves. The more obscene part of your brain wondered what he looked like underneath it.

It felt natural to dance with him. Natural as eating, as blinking. It was like there was a crook on your body, a niche, that only he could fill. He held you with both confidence and gentleness. He didn't throw you around like a ragdoll. His rhythm met yours. Each step you moved in tandem. Looking at him was as close as one could get to feeling drunk while completely sober. You became aware of how your breath must smell of the refreshments. You only saw slight sweat on his brow from the movement and the heat of so many bodies packed into one space. You felt your own breath become ragged and short. Being so close to him, almost like an embrace. He was quite a tall man, but he was not intimidating. If not, there was a delicacy in his touch, his stature. He could break you but chose not to. It was only a gentle press to keep you steady. You realized it was your fingers curling over his. There were several other couples dancing with you. But with him, that was easy to forget.

His hands even sweated a little. But you saw he was smiling. Your own lips parted, but no words came out. It was a gentle dance. He would sometimes glance at his toes to make sure he didn't step on yours. Then they returned to you. The movement was never forced. And you found the pattern too easy. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.

After the dance, you both paused, catching your breath. You felt as though you were coursing with fire through you looking at him. You could feel your chest heavy with each intake. It felt too soon for that dance to end. People clapped.

“Miss Narracott…are you-“

“Oh, dear Captain!”

In cut in Miss Corbyn. Blinking, you took a step back.

“Miss Corbyn! I hope you and your family are well,” he greeted.

“Couldn’t have been better! How kind of you to ask!” she chirruped.

She then turned to you.

“Ah, Miss Narracott, how good to see you,” she greeted in acknowledgment.

She then promptly ignored you back to him.

“Captain, you promised me two dances. Two!” she pouted.

“That was at the one in January!” he corrected.

“And what about this one!? Will you leave me without a partner?”

She turned to you.

“It is bad for a lady to be without a partner, isn’t it, Y/N?” she asked.

“It is bad…” you said.

She whipped her blonde hair back to him.

“Well, we can have a dance?” she pleaded.

“Then, I…I, Uhm, excuse me. Goodbye,” you replied, turning around, and leaving them.

You stomped to the corner to have some dessert and another glass of lemonade. The burning, hot sensation in your body from movement and his skin's touch required it. The unspeakable, shameful things you’d let him do to you as well as the gentle, loving things. And not to look at them. Anything to keep you from looking. You even turned around a chair for two dances and kept your face focused on the wall.

You then danced with one more bloke. Then another. Just to wash Nicholls from you and invite men to call for tea. And to end the night on a good note. Especially about how he was the best partner. How you could still feel the touch his hand burned onto you in the morning.

Summer- 1914

It was such a nice, sunny Friday all that afternoon. Perfect weather. But out the shop window, there were dark clouds. Thunder boomed ominously as your shift reached its last hour.

Returning home, you walked at a quick pace. The bright sun contrasted with the darkening clouds. There were some sheep in the middle of the path. You waved your arms and shooed them off. As you hurried towards your farm up the hill, it started raining. As you walked in, you saw your own parents inside for shelter.

“Where’s Albie?” you asked.

“Out riding!” your mother answered.

The rain turned to torrents. Lightning reached like a large, terrifying finger right through the clouds. It beat against the house in a never-ending fury. The rain broke through the roof and opened the windows. Gusts burst the door open.

Albert arrived, his shirt, boots, and overalls were drenched. Dad got out a tall pole to adjust the roof, so water didn’t break out. You and your mother went about to close and secure windows that the gusts blew open. Running upstairs, you saw that each of your rooms had some rain from the open windows. You shut them closed and secured them. But the rainfall punched against it, like a burglar insisting on getting in. Downstairs, you even saw that the Goose had broken into the house, shaking his white feathers dry.

“Shoo, Harold, shoo!” Mum scolded, pushing him aside.

But the defiant Goose honked in protest and went to a corner to tuck himself in for the night.

It was hard not to shake like a child at the sound of the thunder. It rattled the house when it boomed. But eventually, you managed to crash to sleep. Glad that Dad managed to seal the hole allowing your room to remain dry. In fact, as you lulled, the rain was beginning to sound peaceful.

The next morning, you discovered that the peace of the rain was only in its sound. The bottom field was flooded. You and your family drudged around, the muddy water up to your ankles, trying to save what turnips you could. Only a meager few in the whole field survived. But it was all a muddy, destroyed mess. It would be too late to begin to plant something else.

Albert ran off to check the rest of the farm. You and Dad sat by the fire. Mum fixed all a cup of tea, blankets wrapped around you. Dad only looked sadly into the hearth.

“I know what I can do. I’ll talk to Mrs. Snow. Ask for longer hours. I’ll work earlier or later. Or both. Whatever I must do…” you promised them.

But that Monday, Mrs. Snow said flatly that you were working the maximum hours. And that there wasn’t any need for early or late work.

It was that Friday you hurried home, your paycheck in your basket. Thank goodness it was pay week! With that, it would cover part of the rent. You would do it. You would gladly give every guinea. What need did you have for dance tickets or other indulgences now? If it gave everyone (including yourself) peace of mind, if Dad stopped drinking and staring into space with tears in his eyes, you’d do it. The choice was made when you first got the job! Even if it couldn’t cover all the rent, it was something! Then, you’d scrap up the turnip sales and rely on the animals. Yes, dinners would shrink. But your family would keep the house!

But you noticed a shiny red motorcar parked right outside. As you walked into the front yard, Albert was pacing about. Mum was trying to feed the chickens, pouring feed out from her apron.

“How long have you been out here?” you asked.

“About a half hour,” Mum answered.

“Where’s Dad, what’s going on? What’s Lyons doing here?” you asked.

As if in answer, the door opened. Out walked your father and Lyons. Albert took a step forward, then his steps froze. Mum glared at Lyons, her face red.

“Y/N, come on in the kitchen,” your father urged.

Today was not the Fifteenth. Not the usual day for paying the rent. His son and servants were nowhere in sight. Why you and not your mother and brother too?

“Mr. Narracott, may I have your permission to speak in private with your daughter?” he asked.

The answer hit you.

Terror gripped you. Nausea soured your stomach, and your legs and hands were shaking uncontrollably. You felt as if you could get sick in the yard. Or as if you could faint. You wished you could faint. Just so you could black out, and escape into nothingness. Then awaken in your room to a new day with nothing expected other than the usual. But no, you were in your body. You folded your hands.

“Yes sir, you can talk to her.”

Your father looked up at you. His eyes had both sadness and hope inside them. You clutched at his shoulder, urging him to stay. Stay with you. Don’t leave me, don’t leave me, please don’t leave me. He can talk with both of us, please.

“We’ll be right outside, my girl. He said he won’t talk long,” He said. He then put your hands down, walked outside, and closed the door, leaving you alone with Mr. Lyons.

[itzcherrybonbon]

Hello everyone,

If KOSA does end up passing, because I am not entirely sure, I'm talking to my friend and he's assuring me it won't happen, but I'm still scared and on edge..

Anywho, if that goddamn bill ends up passing, I want you all to know you're dear to me. Being in Tumblr has been a great journey, and all of you are amazing.

@candied-skulls-and-licorice, @sourpatchfr, @angel-beloved, @nightskymyth, @anotherrosesthatfell, thank you for putting up with me and for being like a real family to me, I love you guys. I am grateful we met, it was a pleasure to get to know you. I love you so so much, and if I could I'd crawl through your screens and give you all big hugs. If this bill gets passed we won't be able to see eachother again, but..I'll do my best to hold on for you all. Thank you for the good memories, thank you for making my day talking about our characters, thank you for the lovely roleplays and for putting up with me at certain times. I love you, and I will forever appreciate you. You guys are my real family. I'm glad I managed to be there for you, I will miss you all dearly..Maybe one day we'll be able to see eachother again. Stay strong for me stars, Cherry loves you

@fandomsoda, @koshka-in-the-corner, @sunnymainecoon You guys are gems, bright stars even. I enjoyed drawing North and Spook in Magma with you Sunny, I wouldn't stop laughing from how silly we were. Koshka, I enjoyed our roleplays with Neri and Rev, and your company is very appreciated. Soda, I appreciate how we were almost on the same wavelength about things. It was really nice knowing you

@nyx-mrbones-2360 We haven't talked in a while, but I still remember when we used to talk about Tex and Krono and how fun it was making this ship. You're awesome and neat

@thvnderhashira It was fun talking to you for even brief moments, I will never forget your Cross fanarts, or Mauve. Thank you for being so sweet, I really appreciate you

@nithmere Thank you for the memes Psina, your art was always really lovely and a sight for my eyes. Thank you for everything, you're a gem.

@not3nergy-spirit Thanks for the lovely art, and for the sweet words that day! I've always loved your artstyle, keep being you! I appreciate you a lot

@cool-persom Thank you for your amazing art, I will always cherish it! Mersia was a neat character, and I loved her motherly attitude towards Arti. I will never forget the first time we met, your compliments made me laugh a lot. Thanks for being chaotic with me! Ilysm bestie

@shadow-5065 Long time no see but, I remember how we used to interact in my early days in Tumblr. I'm sorry for not checking in on you and starting some sort of conversation myself but..I still really appreciate you. I think you're funny and neat, thanks for supporting me back then <3

@eventide-roses I think you're an amazing person, keep being you! It was nice talking to you for that brief moment. Thanks for being a better mother figure to Angel than I could ever have been, I really appreciate you

@joficeandwind Hope you're doing okay, sorry for not starting some sort of conversation in the dms. I wanna say thank you for treating Angel so nicely, you deserve only the best. It was nice talking to you that day

And to all the people who have followed me, thank you for the support so far. I love you, and stay strong. They won't continue crushing us under their boots for long, in the end our rights will always be valid and they can never change that.

[crowholtz]

I want to hear more about the other NPCs in your CoS campaign! I stumbled across your Doru bio and I was baffled by how wildly different he is in your campaign vs the one I'm in. It's always so cool to learn about different adaptations of characters!

OMG I am so glad you asked

Okay I'm gonna touch my faves! Obviously spoilers for the campaign~

First up we have Escher. I love what my DM did with Escher! He's a genderfluid shapeshifter (though his main 'true' form is elven) from Waterdeep that Strahd brought to Barovia through the mists. His personality often gives me like... Double Trouble vibes from She-Ra. He's very fruity eheheh. He's an empath - literally, he has the ability to sense people's emotions when he touches them (all the True Vampires in our campaign have a Special Ability). He's a bit of a whore. he's actually a ripper (my dm sorta borrowed this term from the vampire diaries in which some vampires are just more violent and hungry than others) and was pretty bad when he first became a vampire, but he redirected his bloodlust more into sex and drugs. very Dionysian. He's very decadent and selfish, but he also does have a good capacity to care thanks to not being able to turn his empathy off, and he uses his ability to please others and be what they want him to be. He also in his mortal life had a degree in psychology from the University of Waterdeep, and is quite smart and good at reading people and their issues, though he likes to pretend he's a useless bimbo. He's currently traveling with the party because he's worried about Strahd....

Another favorite of mine is Vasili von Holtz. He's actually the reincarnation of Strahd's mortal soul in my campaign instead of just being his alter ego. Strahd thought Vasili was the reincarnation of Sergei for a while, and put Vasili through a lot of tests and trauma when he was a teenager 30 years ago to see if he'd react to situations in the way Sergei would. When he didn't, Strahd was always disappointed with Vasili. The irony being, Vasili made the decisions Strahd would have made since he has his soul, and that's what Strahd hated. Strahd essentially tortured himself and he doesn't even know. Vasili is 45 years old now, a lovable rogue, kinda scrungly. He's charming and cunning, but good. My party put him in charge of Vallaki in the form of running a council with father Lucian, Lady Wachter, and Anastrasya. He's got a bit of a drinking problem, but he wants to do good by the people. Much like Strahd, he has the mentality of "no one can do it but me. It has to be me." My character Helene is romancing him. And Strahd. It's very messy.

I have more, but I don't want this to get too long, so if you are interested in hearing about more pls send another ask ^^ my DM has made all the characters in this campaign so multifaceted and complex and interesting. Strahd is honestly my favorite -- he took his character and crafted him into such a fascinating villain and plays him really well. But god, going into Strahd's psyche and story would take a whole ass post.

I'm also gonna put more info about Doru too under a read more just to give more context to his personality!

My DM didn't honestly plan on Doru being in the campaign -- he figured he would die or remain trapped, as he often is in CoS.

In my DM's canon, Doru was a soft spoken young man romanced by Strahd and Doru agreed to become one of his brides. Doru insisted however, that during the turning process he remain close by the church in the village and his father so he could prove that even after turning into a vampire he was still himself. Doru requested Strahd not be there bc he knew Strahd's presence would spook his father. Strahd acquiesced to his request. Unfortunately in the transition, Doru's father and many of the villagers became distressed, outraged, tried holding him down to try to basically "exorcise" him. Doru's ripper instinct activated (yeah unfortunately Doru got the ripper trait) and he slaughtered and drained some of the villagers present. Donovich managed to get Doru into the basement of the church where he stayed for 10 years, though Donovich announced that Doru was dead. Strahd mourned him.

So when we managed to save Doru with a wand of polymorph (which we can thank @gothoctopus for thinking of using), it changed his creature type and therefore he could leave the consecration of the church! Then I had my character Helene "pray to her god" so she could contact Strahd when he intercepted the prayer, and she let him know that Doru was actually alive and that we rescued him. Strahd was shocked Doru was alive, and Helene had to talk him down from doing something drastic to the people of Barovia village. He was grateful, and sent down a carriage to put bunny Doru in so it could take him back to Castle Ravenloft. Strahd said that he now owed the party one favor (which Helene used in the bones of st. andral incident to make him leave us and Ireena alone for the time being).

Anyway, Doru took some time to heal at the castle. Mentally he was not doing great, and he's still trying to heal, but he is much better now. He bonded with Rahadin, who took care of him. Doru is still a faithful follower of the morninglord, which has manifested in an ability to still use radiant/healing magic despite being undead. (My DM gave all the True Vampires special abilities. Escher, for example, is an empath and can sense others emotions when he touches them!)

Doru is soft-spoken, sassy, smart, and generally wants to be a good person. His vampiric tendencies get in the way of that though, especially with his underlying bloodlust that he has to keep in check. He's always itching for a fight, but suppresses it. He's also autistic and is very cute when he infodumps :D

[petalpierrot]

Festival Updates Part 3

Honestly, a lot happened this session - more under the cut

So last time we left off with Eidys watching Rahadin preparing to bake in the baking competition.

He seems to be in a friendly rivalry with this other woman, Dorina and honestly, it was really fun to watch them interact

Dorina was making a Strawberry and Rhubarb pie

Rahadin opted for a Blueberry and Lavender pie (if you know you know)

I'm cutting out a lot of the banter but both of them were making friendly comments and it was nice to see Rahadin interacting with people normally. It made Eidys very happy to see him having fun.

He ended up winning first place, and Dorina second, there was one contestant who just rolled a straight 1 so I imagine everything that could go wrong, went wrong.

Eidys did not start a riot.

Eidys claps for Rahadin and gets weird looks directed at her as people don't understand why she would cheer for the Chamberlain. Eidys doesn't care. She is proud of him and thinks he did extremely well.

Eidys gives Rahadin a little wave

I just need to provide visual evidence because oh my god this was the funniest score to get. So yes Rahadin spots her and gives her a small smile and a returned wave.

Rahadin will stick around his station, to make sure people only get a single slice of pie and clean his equipment. Eidys decides to move on so as to not distract him from his tasks.

When Eidys rejoins the party they move to other attractions.

Veshen tries himself with the hammer and bell, he misses twice but manages to hit once, winning a fancy mask that he gifts to Ireena.

Ireena wants to return the favor for the boys by winning them gifts as well.

Ireena wins Veshen some fancy white gloves.

Ireena apologizes to Dris for hitting only once and not being able to get him anything this round.

Dris assures her that it is fine and she shouldn't feel obligated to get him something. (this man is difficult when it comes to receiving gifts)

After that, they hear of a horse race, and both Dris and Ireena think it could be fun to join, so they sign up.

Dris bonds very well with a Black Stallion named Skylark and Ireena with a grey Appaloosa named Rowdy.

They both do very well against their competition. Ireena won first place and Dris won second, though Dris was in the lead for most of the checks. Ireena wins a bottle of the fabled Red Dragon Crush. and Dris wins an elven insignia of a lost legionnaire.

Ireena mentions that something spooked her horse after the race. (I'm sure this is fine)

Ireena wants to gift the wine to Dris (because he is a big wine drinker) but instead opts to ask him to share the wine with her sometime to which he agrees.

DM: they have a wine date now possibly.

Eidys joins a dancing competition next, she is very fond of dancing and thinks it could be fun. She doesn't really have a partner so, what my DM described as "Dracula from Bram Stoker's Dracula when he was in London" dressed man approaches her and asks to be her partner for this dance to which she agrees.

Though she also spots Rahadin who is eyeing this man who asked her to dance.

But anyway, this man introduces himself as Sergei Belview (I wonder who this man could be surely it's not who we think he is)

Me jokingly: The only other name he knows aside from Vasili and his own.

Rahadin is looking very unhappy and is glaring daggers at this Sergei fella

Rahadin pairs off with another partner (looking like 2005 Mr. Darcy just, completely miserable)

His deathly choir ability going off a little bit (in our campaign it goes off when he's getting angry - so yeah he was getting angry at this stranger)

Eidys was popping off in the dancing competition.

"Sergei" was also keeping up with her very well. Literally got the same score as her.

Everyone is popping off

The first round ends with that.

"Sergei" tells Eidys that "she dances as lovely as she looks" with a small bow

Eidys tells him that he is also a very good dancer

Rahadin doing well keeping his anger in check

Rahadin thanks his partner and dismisses himself politely as he is making his way to Eidys.

Eidys smiles when he catches up to her and greets him politely

Rahadin asks her to the upcoming dance. He is eyeing this "Sergei" suspiciously he will add "If it is alright with your partner"

Eidys agrees to dance with him gladly. She is almost dismissive of the permission.

Sergei tells them that he would not deny the lady and flashes a little smile toward Rahadin (I was screaming internally)

Rahadin is still keeping it together but there are cracks in his facade as faint whisps of the choir are heard.

Eidys isn't completely sure where it's coming from so she is not frightened but she will look between the two men and tells Rahadin that they should get ready to distract him from his distaste for the man.

In the second round, Eidys and Rahadin get about a 13 dex/performance, they are both perturbed by the bad vibes "Sergei" has left

Rahadin apologizes for his behavior saying that he doesn't like how Sergei was looking at her

Eidys tells him that it is alright and that she just didn't want there to be a conflict

Eidys asks him if he also likes dancing Rahadin replies that it's not something he goes out of his way for and only when he has an agreeable partner.

he mentions that not a lot of events take place at the castle

Eidys says that if Strahd was a bit nicer maybe others would actually enjoy events at the castle. She also comments that he is probably the one burdened with organizing such events

Rahadin does say it is a burden to bear when it does happen

Eidys tells him that she hopes he doesn't find them being invited to the castle a burden

Rahadin promises her that he does not and that he hopes she will enjoy herself when the time does come.

Eidys says that yes, it should be a bit more enjoyable since she will not be alone

I'm crying, you guys

Rahadin and Eidys won the dancing competition.

She wins a pyramid of black incense and a 1-pound egg with a bright red shell (that we agreed on being a fossilized dragon's egg)

Mother of Dragons jokes ensued.

that's where we ended the session

[ghostbrawl]

sent the 🐯 - nono the thing is i do know you!! youre not a stranger im just... sometimes i get spooked off, from interacting so much. because sometimes i think people just hate me and only keep me around as to not make me upset :( and thats got nothin to do with you, you didnt do anything wrong. its me with my stupid thoughts and shit. i think youre really cool and i love your art and style and you seem so confident and dont give a shit about a lot of things. im intimidated by that

tried to answer this one privately and realized i couldn't because its an anon ask haha .. welp! i still want you to hear my input on this one so it's just going to be no reblog.

i'm going to put my response under the cut though for the sake of people's dashboards and because it's somewhat mushy. continue if you dare, followers - i'll be talking in depth about, like, emotions an shit.

so i sat on this ask for a while and really rolled it around my enclosure a little bit. full disclosure i need to just say for a long time i also felt this way - by that i mean feeling as though [people just hate me and only keep me around as to not make me upset] - for various reasons.

one reason was that i had experienced real world examples of this sort of coddling many times - people online and in real life would often entertain me to my face and talk about me behind my back, mostly until i got too annoying to bear and was openly lashed out at or shunned. most of these incidents occurred when i was 16 or younger, to be fair, but they did make a mark on me.

another reason was just anxiety - if i didn't know exactly what the people around me thought, it would be safe to say those thoughts were bad. it would've verified what i thought about myself- and assuming those people already hated me allowed me to empathize with the versions of my loved ones that i created in my head. i often mourned the fact that they had to deal with me before i even knew whether they were annoyed or not.

these were the two main reasons why i often felt like people hated me, but i'm sure there were more.

i don't have an EXACT read on who you are anon, though i feel like i have an idea (you don't have to tell me, but if you'd like, reach out and send me a dm) - but personally, if we know each other, and i've not yelled at you or blocked you or told you not to talk to me, there's an incredibly decent chance (99%) that i neither hate you nor think you're annoying.

if you're my next door neighbor from two years ago, i take that back. but if you aren't, keep reading!

other than in my deepest darkest worst moments, i've pretty much trained myself out of the kneejerk assumption that my friends and loved ones hate me. i'll try not to sound preachy when i talk about why, but trust me when i say i have a point here in talking about it.

anyway - here's how i stopped doing that.

#1 - i started to model my own understandings of people's attitudes toward others based on my own attitudes.

ok i know that sounds weird or isn't very easy to understand so let me just give an example.

a technique i used a lot was just thinking through how, when, and why i liked or loved my friends. i loved my friends because they have similar interests to me, because of the history we had together, because it was easy to communicate with them, because i loved their minds and ideas, because they enriched my life (even when i didn't talk to them as much), because i was excited to hear from them + learn about their life, because i cared about them and didn't want to see them sick or hurt, because they were fun to hang out with, etc. etc etc.

then, i'd think about how i felt when one of my friends messed up, was irritating, annoying, or made me angry in some way. depending on how egregious the ill was, i reacted anywhere from pretty much none at all (for most irritations or annoyances) - to 'angry in the moment, it fades later' (for high stress situations in which i had no excuses for that friend) - to 'we seriously need to work this out' (for ongoing situations in which i was building up the strength to address).

most of the time, the irritations i encountered fell into the first category. many times i couldn't even be annoyed - i loved those friends so much that it didn't even matter, either in the very second the irritation happened or in the grand scheme of things.

in the few moments that i encountered more grave irritations such as those in the last category, what usually would happen is either that me and the other person sorted out our grievances and both agreed to change our behavior, or we parted ways.... and many of the friends i parted ways with i found wanting their company again and reconnected with them.

in evaluating myself in the context of my friends, though i can never know how, when, or why my friends love me, i know for relative certainty that when i am irritating or annoying to them, it is incidental and fades just as quickly for them as it fades for me. my friends will never be as concerned with my small flaws and ills as i am - it simply doesn't affect them nearly as much as it affects me.

^ this idea is doubly true for acquaintances and people you don't know as well as to say "friends" -- at the acquaintance level people can choose whether to get closer or to drift, factoring in time, interest, hyperfixation, location, their jobs, etc.

but this first technique only worked when i had the self-esteem to internalize the fact that other people's inner worlds were both just as complex as mine (holding complex feelings about oneself and each other) and just as simple as mine (annoyed or not? and for how long? etc)!

so another thing that really helped me was

#2 - faking confidence until i could build it properly.

i know everyone says this shit and it seems so ineffectual when it feels much more grounded and real to be cynical, to be anxious and upset with oneself.

and in many senses, it IS ineffectual - immediately. faking confidence is something that only works over years of doing it, and in faking your confidence you must also identify very real parts of yourself to be Actual Confident(tm) about and work toward feeling that way for real.

faking confidence is the sandbox where i, personally, found actual things to be proud of myself for within. when i faked confidence in my voice, way of thinking, my art, and my personality, i eventually found actual things to like in each of those aspects of myself based on how people reacted to that "front" of confidence i put up about those aspects of myself.

for a while i faced an awkward phase where my faked confidence was so intense that it manifested as arrogance and aggression toward others -- avoid this if you can . facepalm emoji.

but in presenting myself as somebody who was equal (or even greater) than other people in social situations i was in, other people pointed out things to be praised about me.

at first i'd be skeptical, but i'd keep it in the back of my mind. but over time, i'd see over and over the success of those parts of myself in social situations, artistic circles, athletic contexts, etc, and start to think "maybe i am good at [x]" or "maybe [personality trait] about me is helpful and cool", and on and on and on.

confidence and self-like is a process that builds on itself and gets easier over time. the second i began to question whether traits i had were really harmful or bad, the more i started to see reinforcing evidence of the contrary; of them being productive, healthy, interesting, worth having rather than destroying.

and the further you progress in this avenue, the easier it is to #not give a shit about things - or to respond less to attacks on the psyche or personality.

and when i reinforced + gained a respect for the parts of myself i once hated, it became easier to believe that others could admire me as much i admired them - that others could brush off my shortcomings as easily as i brushed off theirs.

recently, i hate to admit, i've had to start this process of loving myself all over again as i've started to experience a major personality shift brought on by gaining different + new responsibilities in my life. i respond differently to new circumstances so many times that i'm becoming somebody different - somebody i'm not yet prepared to love. somebody that i'm much more inclined to loathe, because i've seen the effects of my new personality traits on myself and others; not in observing my own actions, but in observing the actions of people in my life with the same personality traits such as my family.

so for now my confidence in a lot of situations is much shakier than it used to be - but the foundations i created back when are still there. when i don't believe in myself or punch down on myself i can keep it relatively contained internally and not project it onto others - or if i can't avoid projecting it, i at least understand on some level that i'm being unreasonable... and i can still keep that outward confident look pretty seamlessly while working out new insecurities from within.

trust me - i give a lot of shits, and so does every other confident person you know. we just keep it to ourselves - not to say that keeping it to oneself is inherently better, but it just helps to keep oneself from spiraling into deeper and deeper self hatred. keeping that hate on the down-low keeps it from gaining significant power.

in terms of being intimidated by other confident people....

i have nothing really to say about that. i think it's something that both affirms and worries the confident person in question - to be intimidating is to be slick and cool and impenetrable. but to be intimidating is also to be impenetrable (/neg) - impossible to see the inner life of through that glare of coolness or confidence. i guess its a double edged sword, i dunno.

but i think it gets easier to see even the intimidatingly cool as dorky, regular people when you recognize that pretty much everyone has or had crappy self image at one point. people are less intimidating when you allow the idea that they too, are people who fuck up, who go through things, who break down, who hate themselves, and who are just trying their best to seem like somebody lovable and worthwhile. and do that in order to CHASE interactions with others - and that wanting those interactions doesn't reflect badly on you or them.

but idk. i get it if u don't wanna read all that.

TLDR: ur thoughts aren't stupid and we've all been there. and i'm just some tumblr user on the internet it's really not so serious or scary. i post incessantly about robot sex and wizards instead of getting groceries. and everyone is just as stupid and dorky as the worst person you know and that's totally fine.

[belittlejuiced]

does anyone wanna watch the new season of black mirror together (this weekend)?

i havent watched it yet and im really itching to press play but i want to watch it with someone else bc it's more fun that way :'-)

i rly dont wanna watch this show on my own (bc i tend to get spooked fast lmaoo)

my dms are open

edit: found a watch buddy 🥳

ig the good thing about the internet is that you never run out of other people who want to do the same stuff as you, mga taong wala ring kasama (yung keri naman mag-solo pero sawa na mag-solo).

been thinking lately about how being a remote worker makes me feel lonely to the bone, and oo nga noh, may ibang tao rin pala na ganito yung nararamdaman. i feel at ease na hindi pala ako nag-iisa but also sad that someone else is feeling this way :'-)

yun nga lang, always have to be careful when it comes to divulging info, screening for creeps. but so far, all seems good naman (lets hope hindi ko ma-jinx)

also been thinking about how andami kong gustong gawin/puntahan but the thought of doing stuff alone just makes me fucking miserable loool. ayoko na gumala mag-isa kasi been doing that since college, quota na ako diyan. but maybe now i can actually go with folks who's looking forward to doing the same things!!! ⭐ (but also need to chill about making plans since ayokong maubos pera ko ahahaha)

idk why but ive been buzzing with energy tas my social battery feels so full loool ayaw magpaawat for some reason. sana matransfer some of this energy into work mode bc i am not feeling it (work) rn

[disaster-j]

For your wip list, always feel free to expand on your demon!white au just saying

But also BlackYok vs GramBlack 👀👀

There's way too much to say about demon!white au and I don't wanna spoil too much but here's some tidbits from that world-

Todd is NOT a full siren and this is an Issue

White's glasses are not so he can see better but so that other people don't see Certain Things

The Twins' connection in the fic is Very Different from canon and they're not the only people with a Bond

White summons an army of bats to attack people that get on his nerves, the bats don't hurt anyone they just spook em

And that's all i'm divulging atm but feel free to ask for more details in dms if you want!!!

As for BlackYok vs GramBlack au... see I had this Idea from back when the show was just wrapping up where Black would pull away from the gang like canon but the others would be like hell nah you're not going anywhere bitch and get him back and part of that fic was just torturing Gram for his show canon sins where Black would just kinda cut him out and it'd make him lose his mind and EVENTUALLY they'd get their shit together. And then! AND THEN!!! @paalove had to go write that BlackYok fic and ummm I may have Seen The Potential. No because! I've always thought BlackYok was an underrated and overlooked duo like the comedic potential those two have! But also I really like the idea of them like hooking up to distract themselves from their respective heartbreaks and helping eo heal and move on now so what was originally a fix it with GramBlack endgame turned into a fix it where Yok just butts into all of Black's business and tortures Gram as revenge for his crimes against Black (and Eugene ofc). Currently unsure about who will end up with who (mostly bc as much as i love the idea of BlackYok i don't see them working out as long term pair in this setting but also I feel like as Black is in this fic there's no way he's ready to be with Gram anytime soon either so... we'll see ig)

(send me asks based on this tag game!)

[savage-rhi]

Immortal Shield  Chapter 14: Reunion

**DM or comment if you want to be tagged in updates on tumblr

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Tagging: @seradyn

“You’ve been staring at the road all day,” Florens said warmly as she approached Ardyn on the patio outside of her home. She gave a tired smile, seeing Ardyn visibly spooked for a moment. 

 "I've been admiring the scenery," Ardyn sighed. He knew he wasn't fooling himself let alone her. "It's been ages since I've come to admire Duscae." 

 “You’re worried about her.” Florens stated as she sat across from Ardyn on one of the patio seats. All but ignoring his remarks and getting to the point. “She’s going to be alright. If she’s anything like you’ve told me, she’ll come through. Maybe try calling her again?” 

 “It’s not what you assume, I assure you.” Ardyn murmured. His amber eyes once more looked at cars passing through. There were a few times he could’ve sworn the Scepter was approaching, only to see the model was new or it had been a truck. His brows furrowed, fingers gently tapping on a small table beside the chair he was sitting in. A few beads of sweat trickled down Ardyn’s face while he adjusted, slouching further back against the cushion of the chair. 

 “Can I get you anything?” Florens asked as the concern grew more on her features. She visibly saw the tension Ardyn carried in himself. 

 “No, I’m quite alright.” Ardyn responded, shaking his head. He glanced the old woman’s way, realizing he might’ve come off cold. “Forgive me, I haven’t slept well.” 

 “That’s alright Adrian,” Florens nodded. “Its understandable.” 

 Caelan was supposed to arrive at the end of the week. Two days past the end point and there had been no sign of her. 

 For most of the week, Caelan’s safety was an afterthought given Ardyn’s dream and the encounter he had with Serpo. He was still processing the experiences, trying to understand where it all fit in the grand scheme of things. It was only when Ardyn woke up from slumber, drenched in sweat and felt the calling hum of Rakshasa did he start to dwell on Caelan’s wellbeing. His body felt on an instinctual level that Caelan used the blade to defend herself. He couldn’t tell the time nor place it was used, but it had been summoned and tasted blood. Since then, Ardyn could feel his worry start to snowball. He listened to the radio at the local Crows Nest, trying to detect a hint about Caelan if there was a possibility of such a thing while he picked up his sword commission. Besides for Noctis and Lunafreya announcing a grand jamboree to score points with the common people of Insomnia, there wasn’t much interesting news. 

 Ardyn had blown up her phone with calls and texts since the night Rakshasa called out. Each one met with silence. He assumed she was busy, or was perhaps upset with him for not answering the one night. He didn't like not knowing which was the case. He absolutely refused to consider the possibility she was dead. If she were, Rakshasa would be at his side. That was the only comfort he took from the situation. 

 Ardyn didn’t know the exact point where Caelan ventured off to find Kurt, but he had a vague idea. If the Scepter didn’t show up the next morning, he was dead set on traveling by foot to find out what happened to her. Much like Florens needed answers regarding what transpired with Kurt, Ardyn wanted to know what happened to his shield. Dread began to take root in his subconscious. He couldn’t recall feeling this way towards anyone in a long time. How scared he was at the thought of losing someone he had grown accustomed to. His musings of adoration towards her knocked from time to time in like an intrusive thought, unable to help himself despite his determination to keep things professional. 

 Ardyn looked up from his lap, fingers toying with themselves as he heard the sound of wheels imprinting against dirt. The Scepter and its signature black came into view, and he could see Caelan from afar in the drivers seat. He squinted his eyes, taking notice there was another body in the vehicle. He wasn’t certain whom it was, but a faint smile graced his features. 

 Ardyn turned his head to the side, gesturing towards Florens to get her attention. She had been reading in peace until she saw Ardyn’s hand come into view. 

 “My dear, you may want to look yonder.” Ardyn said calmly, pointing towards the vehicle. He watched the older woman get up, setting the book down in her seat as she stepped off the patio and stopped. 

 The doors to the Scepter opened, revealing Caelan arriving from the drivers side and Kurt from the passengers. His greying beard had been trimmed along with his mangled hair. Immediately, Florens began to jump up and down. Ecstatic noises escaping her throat as sobs began to make their presence clear. Her hands covered her face, cheeks turning red. She sprinted forth with her hands open, running towards Kurt all the while his neutral expression broke down the moment he laid his eyes on his wife. He remained near the car door, limping a few steps toward his wife until she crashed into him. Their arms embracing one another so tight, it hurt. Hushed apologies and words of endearment left both of them as they cried against one another, Kurt pressing kisses to Florens every chance he got when her face wasn’t buried into his neck. 

 Caelan watched on, smiling big and trying to look elsewhere, wanting to give the couple some privacy. Her eyes settled on the patio directly on Ardyn, seeing him smile her way. She gave a wave, he returning the gesture. Caelan took a step forward, intending to approach him only to feel a sudden pull. Her eyes widened as Kurt and Florens pulled her into their embrace, thanking her, the Astrals, anything that was listening. Caelan felt her face turning pink, unsure of how to respond but nevertheless she returned the affections, trying to keep her grin from growing any wider. She hadn’t felt this good serving others in a long time, having almost forgotten how it felt to be cherished and honored for the sacrifices she made to keep others protected. 

 Ardyn let out a sigh of relief, seeing Caelan made it back in one piece. He watched the events unfold and felt a pain in his chest. His wound from the Behemoth had fully healed, yet emotionally his heart strings had been plucked. He was reminded of his time as a healer as he listened to the commotion several feet away.  He recalled an experience in which he helped an ailing couple who had been plagued with the starscourge at the same time. It had been rumored the husband caught it first, and the wife refused to leave his bedside as the daemonic energy coursed through them both. Even when they had been separated by townsfolk attempting to quarantine, they tore through bodies to be together. It amazed Ardyn how powerful bonds were, even when souls had been ripped apart and humanity stripped. 

 Healing the two of them had been difficult. Ardyn was used to taking the starscourge into himself, but the couple were his first attempts at healing two people in a single day versus helping one a day. He had passed out after reviving the wife, and had been awoken to a crowd of people praying and giving him blessings and gifts. Ardyn didn’t need the material goods, insisting the peasants keep their belongings. He was thankful for whatever food and drink were provided nonetheless. 

 When he finally got to meet the couple after they had recovered, Ardyn shared the same expression as Caelan. Shock at being pulled into a hug by either of them. Embarrassment clouded his features, uncertain of what to do. A few of his own loyal crownsguard attempted to break it up, but he allowed it. Those were the early days of his body having a difficult time adjusting to the daemonic energy coursing through his veins, and every kind affection helped soothe him. 

 Ardyn blinked in the present, noticing that Caelan escaped from the onslaught of praises and affections. Uncertainty clouded his judgement. He wanted to yell at her, scold her, do something to make it clear he was incredibly pissed off at what she had done despite the picturesque happy ending she granted two strangers. His eyes widened when he noticed the bandages on Caelan’s arm and leg, mind going into a frenzy as to what altercations she endured. 

 “Hey stranger,” Caelan greeted with a smile as she approached him. She frowned when Ardyn glared towards her, his arms crossed as he didn’t say a word. His eyes could cut through the sharpest of blades at the rate he was going. 

 “I take it you know I had some trouble,” Caelan said sheepishly, giving a faint grin to break the tension between Ardyn and herself. She rubbed the back of her neck out of nervousness. 

 “You were only supposed to get pictures,” Ardyn said sternly. “I’m assuming you also caused a scene and didn’t lie low per our agreements.” 

 “I know.” Caelan sighed. “I saw an opportunity and I took it. I had to try. If you saw what I saw, you wouldn’t have been able to just stand there. If it’s any consolation, your sword did protect me.” 

 “A meaningless effort on your part attempting to get me to see your perspective,” Ardyn sounded exasperated as he rubbed his forehead. “You’re such an imbecile putting yourself on the line for random geriatrics. I know you to be stubborn, but I didn’t take you for being reckless.” 

 “Guilty as charged,” Caelan said with a faint laugh, trying to curb the uneasy energy Ardyn was giving off. “I have to warn you, what I did will probably end up on the news unless the Lucians decide to cover it up.” 

 Ardyn sighed through his nose, shaking his head. An irate noise escaped his throat as he rose up from the seat. His stature intimidating Caelan, seeing how she visibly took a step back.

 “Why did I bother hiring you as a shield if you can’t keep yourself safe?” His voice sounding resentful. “What you did was incredibly foolish.”

 “I know.” Caelan repeated, her head giving a slight bow as she looked away from him. She didn’t like this, being talked down to by him yet Caelan didn’t have the heart to stand her ground. Not after everything she had endured. The situation didn’t hurt nonetheless. 

 “Yet it was brave of you.” Ardyn’s voice softened, causing Caelan to look up and meet his eyes. There was deep concern in those honey irises of his that had Caelan feeling momentarily weak in the knees. More so when he hesitated before reaching out and pulling her into a gentle hug, minding where his hands went given her wounds. A soft squeeze before he eased up on his tension, not wanting to constrict her. 

 Caelan let out a small gasp. She could feel Ardyn’s mouth move against her hair as he murmured. 

 “Cahl, don’t do that again. Not for me nor anyone.” 

 Caelan let out a content sigh, embracing him back as she inhaled. The familiar feeling of his body calming her as she closed her eyes, smiling against his shoulder. 

 “I missed you too, Red.” 

 “Cahl,” Ardyn sighed, a small growl escaping his mouth. He knew she was trying to dodge taking a vow. 

 “Alright. Cross my heart.” Caelan muttered back. "You're still hugging me." 

 "I know," Ardyn murmured. "If it's not an issue, I'd like to remain." 

 "I'll allow it." Caelan smiled. 

 Neither Ardyn or Caelan knew how long they had been on the patio once their embrace came to an end. They watched Florens and Kurt from afar talking endlessly. The old couple seemed lost in each others presence, not wanting a second away from their person. In the meantime, Ardyn had been healing Caelan’s wounds she sustained from the gunfire. His entire focus was on each injury, observing how far they went in before he’d begin the process. A light grunt escaped his throat as he finished off the bullet wound to her leg. 

 “That’s the last of it,” Ardyn groaned, closing his eyes and retreating his hand away. He flexed his fingers, easing the tension that had gathered in the muscles.

 “Does it hurt you every time you heal me?” Caelan asked, feeling guilt in her chest as Ardyn sighed. 

 “Yes, but it’s not anything I can’t handle. Before you protest, if I didn’t want to help, I never would have offered.” Ardyn replied, blinking as he rolled his shoulders. He caught Caelan’s startled expression, no doubt his eyes appeared daemonic. Such was the after effects of healing others in this incarnation. 

 “Scared?” Ardyn teased with a smirk, watching Caelan shake her head despite her expression telling him otherwise. He chuckled at that. “You don’t have to fabricate with me.”

 “I’m not,” Caelan murmured albeit firmly. “Just made me jump is all. I’m getting used to it.” 

 “You’re a terrible liar.” Ardyn taunted, blinking a few more times before his eyes returned to normal. 

 “You don’t know what’s going on in my head, don’t make assumptions.” Caelan scoffed. 

 “And we’re already back to bickering. However do we manage that?” Ardyn laughed.

 “You started it.” Caelan shot back, her bluntness had him grin and she couldn’t help but return one. A comfortable silence was soon reached between the two as Ardyn rose up, dusting his trousers with his hand before sitting in a chair across from Caelan. There was a thoughtful look in his gaze as their eyes met, and he gestured to her phone. 

 “Do you have copies of the photographs you took of Formouth?” Ardyn asked curiously. 

 “They’re all on the camera Florens let me borrow. I don’t know if I can download them to my cell. Why?” Caelan raised a brow as Ardyn cleared his throat. 

 “I need you to try and get those sent to me. I may not be the chancellor anymore, but I still have some influence. I think I may know whom we can entrust with the grisly evidence.” Ardyn was confident in his approach, feeling he could easily talk his way through some higher ups within Niflheim to ensure the base was thoroughly investigated. 

 “Isn’t that risky?” Caelan asked honestly. “Besides that, I don’t know if the pictures are enough to justify an investigation. There’s also the possibility I’m going to be plastered everywhere after the stunt I pulled getting Kurt out.” 

 “It’s true there’s a calculated risk,” Ardyn started, furrowing his brows. “Alas in my experience being a politician, if there is one of something, it’s one of many.”

 “You really think there’s more interment camps in Lucis?” Caelan was shocked at the implication, nonetheless she wasn’t entirely surprised at Ardyn’s hypothesis. 

 He shrugged. “There very well could be. I may not have a bleeding heart such as yourself, but I do loathe injustice. Think of it this way: if the heavens forbid you were arrested and taken into custody, it may do some good to have this information at your disposal, considering you are a key witness. More material to clear your name and all that.” 

 “I don’t think anyone would believe a delinquent,” Caelan said sadly, shaking her head. “Not after everything I’ve seen and helped with regarding the Einherjar. And not after I murdered a top official in cold blood at Formouth.” 

 “You’re not a criminal,” Ardyn said softly. “You will be one always in your head until you rid yourself of that mentality.” 

 Caelan smiled a little, averting her gaze from Ardyn as she looked towards Kurt and Florens. They were still communicating nearby the Scepter, laughing on the occasion. She knew Ardyn meant well, but Caelan knew she wasn’t ready to start forgiving herself. Nor was she prepared to dive more into what went down the night she murdered Julian. 

 “I didn’t think you cared for Lucians nor Imperials. Especially the latter since Niflheim was a means to an end for you.” Caelan said, changing the subject. Her eyes went back to Ardyn as he appeared briefly disgruntled from her putting him on the spot. 

 “Remember our conversation about choices?” Ardyn began as Caelan gave a nod. “I’ve made many terrible ones, and I stand by them. I also chose to do my job. I didn’t have to be the chancellor. I could’ve easily accomplished everything I set out to do without meddling in the affairs of politics, yet I wanted to try it on. See how it fit. Maybe indulge a curiosity of mine of what I missed out on. Being abdicated of the throne and all. There was for a time, a part of myself that did care for the imperials and their wellbeing.” 

 Caelan could hear the conflict in his voice, how uncertain he was. Almost as if Ardyn were second guessing his own take on his experiences. 

 “So you feel obligated to help them still?” Caelan asked for clarification, minding not to overwhelm Ardyn with further questions. She had many, but could tell he was having difficulty. 

 “In a manner of speaking, yes.” Ardyn said truthfully. He sighed. “Seems rather pathetic in the grand scheme of things.” 

 “I don’t think so,” Caelan said sincerely. Giving Ardyn a smile as his focus went directly onto her. 

 “Really? Enlighten me.” 

 “Well,” Caelan took in a breath, unsure where she was to begin. “You wanted to do right by others, at least try for a time. I don’t see anything pathetic about that. You're also showing remorse and guilt about--”

 “Pardon me interrupting,” Ardyn interjected, his eyes peering into hers in a serious manner. “I need to make something clear: I don’t regret the choices I’ve made. They may haunt me, but I made my bed. I accept the consequences of my actions and the lives I have forsaken while I was chancellor.”

 “How do you handle something heavy as that?” Caelan let out a laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. Wondering if she could ever get to that level someday with her own circumstances. 

 “I can’t afford to dwell. A recent vision this week showed me that.” Ardyn said bitterly. “It’s a conviction I should've grasped, long after Verstael awakened me. My desires and all their faults, lie in the past.” 

 “A vision?” Caelan could feel a chill go down her spine at the way Ardyn talked about it. For as brief as it was, there was a weight to his words that had her concerned about him. He seemed to have sensed it and waved her off. 

 “Another conversation for another time,” Ardyn said sincerely. Hoping she wouldn’t ask anything further. He didn’t want to be stuck thinking about Aera and Somnus. Not for a while. 

 Caelan nodded, yet remained visibly confused about his earlier statement. “But you mentioned a while ago you had remorse, at least regarding the fall of Insomnia. All of that. Was that not true?” 

 “I do feel remorse,” Ardyn began. He hesitated, a look of uncertainty traveled across his features before he sighed through his nose, deciding to come clean. “Not for Lucis, or Niflheim, but for you.” 

 Caelan swallowed, unsure of how to take the confession. There was look of disbelief in her features as she breathed. 

 “Why?” Caelan murmured in shock. “Is it because you ended up hurting me without knowing?” 

 Ardyn rubbed the back of his neck, looking rather confused himself as to why he was saying any of this. He furrowed his brows and sighed once more. “You can say that.”

 “You confuse me so much sometimes.” Caelan let out a small laugh, shaking her head. 

 “Explains why we both make good company together.” Ardyn shrugged, grinning for a time before he looked ahead and could see Kurt and Florens were heading back to the house. He motioned for Caelan to follow as he got up. 

 “We should discuss the photographs and the incident with them both, make sure we’re on the same page.” Ardyn began. “But first come with me.” 

 Caelan did a double take between Ardyn and the couple before she followed him down the patio steps and to the backyard. The residence of both Kurt and Florens was surrounded by trees as far as the eye could see. There were plenty of spaces where creatures or other people could lurk. She briefly wondered if she would ever get an opportunity to live somewhere this nice. 

 Caelan couldn’t help but feel an air of suspicion, her eyes glancing around to assess for safety out of habit. She watched as Ardyn approached a large tree. Beside the trunk of the massive thing was a sword. Caelan squinted her eyes for a moment, knitting her brows as she noticed there was some similarity it had to her spear, at least the black and gold coloring. Awe fell upon her face as she smiled. 

 “I didn’t think you’d buy yourself another sword. That looks neat!” Caelan said sincerely, excited for him. "I take it I inspired you?" 

 “It’s not mine,” Ardyn murmured as he picked up the blade by its handle. He approached Caelan to where he was standing close. His free hand grabbed a hold of Caelan’s right, and he placed the hilt in her hand, his fingers gently coaxing her own to grip it. 

 “This is yours.” 

 “Are you--serious?” Caelan breathed, looking down at the weapon. Her eyes began to study the small details. Her pulse rocketing as she brimmed with elation. 

 “Do you like it, how's the balance?” Ardyn asked, crossing his arms as he watched Caelan’s excitement grow. He couldn’t help but smile though he tried hard to hide it. 

 “I love it! It feels great!” Caelan said enthusiastically, taking a few steps back from Ardyn as she swung it around to get a feel for its movement and weight, much like she had done when Ardyn allowed her to use the Rakshasa. Caelan didn’t feel the unnatural humming the Rakshasa emitted, and she was thankful for it. Though the crimson blade had unintentionally saved her life back at Formouth, her body was recovering from the bizarre powers that radiated through the ancient weapon. Caelan made a mental note to discuss that with Ardyn at a later time, when they didn’t have so much going on. 

 “It’s not too long. I don't feel hindered at all by the weight or style.” Caelan said proudly. She was beginning to grow attached to the blade in her hand already. “Why did you have this made for me?” 

 “Simple,” Ardyn mused. “I don’t want to get stabbed through the heart again because you prefer long range attacks. Consider it insurance.” 

 Caelan made a face, letting out a gasp as she cast a glare towards him. She approached and slugged Ardyn with her free hand to his shoulder causing him to snicker. 

 “You can be a real asshole, you know that?” 

 “I’m fully aware,” Ardyn said as a matter of fact, rubbing at the spot where Caelan had hit him feigning it hurt more than it did. Nevertheless he sighed contently and gestured towards the blade, causing Caelan to follow where he was pointing. 

 “My lack of taste in joking aside, I wanted to show you I’m appreciative of your services.” Ardyn smiled. He frowned shortly after when Caelan looked beside herself. 

 “I don’t feel like I’ve done much as a shield,” Caelan shrugged, she stuck the end of the blade into the ground so her hands were free.  “I nearly got you killed from a Behemoth and dragged you into getting chased by the Einherjar.” 

 “True,” Ardyn nodded as he approached her. He was standing close to Caelan now, his right hand carefully reached for her chin. A gentle push given so Caelan was peering right into his eyes, no chance for escape as he looked upon her fondly. 

 “Yet here you continue to stand and remain with me. Does that not deserve a reward in of itself?” Ardyn’s voice was tender. He himself was surprised at the direction he took with his tone, but any indication of shock was well hidden away. His gaze traveled from Caelan’s lips to her eyes, over and over. He couldn’t help but examine, taking to heart all the little imperfections that dotted Caelan’s face while she continued to stare. There was a warm feeling that pooled in Ardyn’s chest, feeling the way she trembled in his touch. 

 Caelan couldn’t help but feel a tremor move across her reddened cheeks at how close they were in proximity. The way he held her in place had goosebumps go down her neck. It didn’t help that his eyes were warm and welcoming, enticing her to become further ensnared. There was a part of Caelan that wanted to retreat away on impulse, yet this other side of herself was more than happy to remain. She had never gotten a good look at Ardyn in this fashion, despite their closeness when they slept side by side in the tent. It dawned on her how handsome he truly was. 

 Caelan barely registered his question and remark. Her left hand carefully reached for his thumb and index finger that was holding her chin up. Her movements gentle as she removed his grasp from her flesh. He didn’t seem phased or offended. Their hands eventually clasping over the other as Caelan guided them both to lower. She could feel the rough texture of the callouses on his hand, a reassuring squeeze of his fingertips against her own. 

 “Thanks again for having the sword made for me,” Caelan murmured. Swallowing back a breath as he merely smirked. 

 “Think nothing of it, Cahl.” Ardyn replied coolly. He brought up Caelan’s hand to his lips; pressing to her knuckles before he let her go. There was a momentary look of regret in his golden eyes as he dismissed himself from her presence. 

 “What the hell,” Caelan breathed out when Ardyn was no longer close by. She rubbed the back of her neck, letting out a nervous laugh she had been holding. The spot on her knuckles where his warm lips met continued to tingle. The action had been brief but enough to leave a lasting impression. 

 A gradual warmth spilled into her abdomen as Caelan blinked several times. Shaking her head while pondering what had happened between them just now. Whatever the case, she promised herself that if Ardyn were to do anything that salacious again, she’d have something to say. No, she probably wouldn't have the guts to say anything. Considering how much she enjoyed it. The intrusive thought of asking him to continue invaded Calean’s conscious as she growled at herself. 

 “By the six what is wrong with me?” She slapped herself. “So wrong. So, so, so wrong.” 

 The low trembles in Caelan’s knees began to diminish with every step she took towards the house. Ready to have a final conversation with Florens and Kurt before Ardyn and she were to take off for the road yet again.