#gold pt 0

[ambrosiagoldfish]

Can you write more Adam fics plz there so freaking good

Benefit of the Doubt PT.2

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Viewer discretion is advised

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff to Angst to comfort, General Adam TW’s, Reader lowkey-highkey has a complex about being loved, Panic attack (I’m not even sure if this is correct term or not), Adam is afraid of heights (makes sense in story) This is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader (Y/n is once again not used lol)

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Request Box: Open

Word count: 3136

A/N: Hi! I’d like to Thank you all for the love and support on Part 1! It means a lot that you all enjoyed it as I loved writing it! I’d also like to apologize for this being a week late, I honestly had 0 idea on how to start this one and then a bunch of stuff in my life happened, so it was a mess.

So as an apology I tried to make this one longer than the first! (I seemed to go a little overboard but it’s fine)

Anyways I hope you all enjoy part 2 to ‘Benefit of the doubt’ and as always, if you do, please tell me if want another part in replies/requests/DM’s!

Proofread but of course could have missed something

Tags: @tired-of-life-86

To think love could feel this good.

You were made for it, to give it, receive it… You’ve waited your entire existence for this love, This closeness. It doesn’t even feel real now, even as you’re walking down the golden lined streets of heaven with his arm wrapped around you, all while you’ve been showing him around. The best places to eat, entertainment, or just a nice park. You made sure to show him all of it.

He kept his wings tucked to his sides, the gold contrasting with the white of his robe. The feathers at first glance looked sharp, but now, being so close to him, you could see each of them individually and how soft they must be.

“Hey Sweetcheeks, my eyes are up here”

You jump slightly “Sorry… Adam.” You avert your eyes away from him and focus them in front of you.

Adam laughed “I didn’t say you had to fuxkin’ to stop”

His wings truly were beautiful. It was hard to keep your eyes off them. Adam had only got to heaven recently, it made you wonder if he had the chance to use them yet. You remember when you were first created, wings took forever to get used to. You crashed and fell so many times before you figured out how to use them

Properly.

“Ok seriously, you keep staring, what the fxck is up with you?”

“It’s nothing, just…. Have you tried out your wings yet?”

“Uh, yeah totally, they’re rad as hell” Adam’s voice drifted off, the LED eyes of his mask looking away from you as you both walked. Was he… lying? Why would he lie?

You quickly walked in front of Adam, leaving his warm embrace, gently you took his hands as your wings picked you off the ground. The gust of wind with each flap softly blew around you.

“Well, come on, it will be faster than walking.” Your voice was soft and airy. Slowly, so very slowly, you lifted yourself higher from the ground, Adam’s hands locked firmly in yours, as he was pulled with you in the air.

“W-Wait a- shit- Wait a- motherfuxking second“ Adam yelled strand after strand of curses as you both lifted further and further into the air. His body flailed and his legs kicked against nothing. You pull him to you, his arms quickly snake around your waist, holding on for his dear After-life.

“Adam… did you lie to me?” Your voice was still so soft, so calm, so sweet.

“Fuck- yes I lied, I’m sorry, so put me the fuck down you crazy asshole-“ Vulgar as ever, his voice had fear in it, the LED eyes were forced shut and his grip around you was getting tighter and tighter.

Your arms wrapped around Adam’s head as you laid back, letting The wind breeze from the air pull and push you along its path with your wings soaring through the clouds..

“Adam, it’s ok, I promise you’re fine, all you have to do is open your eyes.”

You pet the back of his neck trying to sooth him which seemed to work after a few seconds. Adam didn’t want to, he really didn’t want to open his eyes. But the longer he kept them close, the more you would whisper soft words of encouragement to him. Eventually, his eyes slowly but surely opened.

“See? There is nothing to be scared of. I’ve got you.”

You hold him closer in your embrace. Adam looked below, the white vastness of heaven’s clouds beneath you both felt unreal, but as amazing a sight it was, Adam’s grip on you didn’t loosen.

“So… I’m guessing you don’t know how to fly yet?” You laugh a little, rubbing a spot on his back, just between his wings comfortingly.

Adam huffed and looked away “oh! I couldn’t fxcking see that!”

You held him close to you. The embrace seemed never ending, and you loved every second of it. Feeling the warmth of his plump body next to you was like a dream come true.

“Here let me just…”

You moved your hands slowly down his arms, caressing the soft flesh as they moved to eventually be at his hands behind you. You began to leisurely undo the grip he had around you.

“What do you think you're doing-“

“Shhh, relax, just trust me, ok?”

With each finger being removed from you, the grip lessened bit by bit, until eventually his hands were fully in yours. Your face leaned closer to his,

“Come on, just give your wings a good flap, trust me.”

“Ugh…. Fine but I swear to god if you let go-“

“I won’t.” Your voice was firm, yet still remained reassuring.

Adam didn’t want to do this. He really didn’t want to. But what other choice did he have? He gruffs and extends his wings from his body. The wind brushed and tickled at his feathers. The way the light hit them caused a glare of gold to be cast from them, enveloping you both. Then, he gave two hard flaps of his wings, he lifted up slightly before quickly falling back to where he was.

“There you go! Now keep doing that.”

Adam continued, his wings slowly pushing him up and up before being sent back down when he stopped. This repeated for a few minutes until he finally got a grip on it. The entire time, you were laughing. Pure unadulterated laughs of joy.

Truly, to think love could feel this good?

“See? You're a natural!”

“Of course I am! I’m the Original Dick, obviously I’d… be good at this… flying… shit.” With all the parading he was doing he kept forgetting to use his wings causing him to fall. ‘A natural’ may have been an overstatement on your part, but hey? At least he hasn’t fallen flat on his face yet!

Gently, you led him through air, giving him reassurance every few feet you flew, never letting go. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours. Before you knew it a brisk orange sunset encased you both with its hue. That’s when you realized just how long you both had been flying.

“You must be tired with sightseeing all day… I think it’s time we go home and rest, yeah?”

“Home?” Adam’s voice sounded for a moment genuinely confused. Had he not been told he’d have a place to live in heaven? As much respect you had for Sera, you’ll have to file a complaint to avoid this with future souls.

You gripped his hand and opened your wings letting the wind lead you through the clouds and above the city. The angels below look like ants at the height you both were. It was peaceful, the flight back home. But it did seem… off? So… quiet? You couldn’t put it together, at least not at the moment, But Adam hadn’t spoken a word since you both left.

Adam, while yes, he was initially confused, it made sense to him, why wouldn’t heaven have a place for its people, a place for each of them to relax, to feel safe, happy, at home.

Home was such a weird word for Adam. Has he ever felt like a place was his ‘home’? The closest thing to it was the Garden of Eden but even that proved to be anything but a home for him. Ever since that snake entered his garden.

No. He can’t think about that now. He doesn’t want to have to think about that again. But oh-do thoughts love to worm their way back into your mind when you least want them to. He’s snaps out of his thoughts when your voice picks up

“Ok, we’re here! Just get yourself settled in and I’ll go make us something to eat. I didn't really know what food you’d like so I mainly just have junk food… I hope that's ok.”

Adam nods his head nonchalantly

You smile, waking him over to the small, plush couch in the living room and handing him a blanket and some pillows. Telling him to wait a second as you fetch some food, leaving him alone.

Adam thought your house seemed welcoming enough, ‘well… our house’ Adam thought. The living room was dark aside from a few luminous lights around the room as well as the small blue gleam from the windows from the night sky.

The couch was comfortable and the pillows just as much. And the blanket you gave him was soft and warm. This really was heaven, huh?

His thoughts are, once again, interrupted by your voice, “Ok here we go, I’ve got snacks and some soda” you say, handing him some of the many food you ravaged from your fridge and sitting beside him, wrapping yourself in the shared blanket.

Grabbing the remote lying next to you, you flick on the TV flipping through the channel before ending on a cheesy sitcom, you keep the volume low wanting to enjoy any conversation with Adam. Except… he never started one. So that’s what felt off.

The entire time you flew back home, got snacks and found something to watch. He hadn't said a word. You may not have known him long but even you had already picked up that he was an advid talker in a conversation.

“Is… everything ok Adam?” You whispered, not want to scare him with your random words.

“What kind of question is that, I’m fxcking fine… I’m fine.” His voice trailed off at the end almost getting as quiet as yours.

“Are you sure cause-“

“I said I’m fuxking fine!” His voice roared through the dark room. Gritty and callous, but you could tell it was meant to hide something. Something he didn’t want you to see.

“I’m sorry…” you paused. What did you want to say from here? What could you say? You took a deep breath and tried to continue. “I… I know I said this earlier… when Sera left.”

Adam’s LED mask looked away from you half shut eyes and a frown forming a scowl on it, but still he let you continue.

“But I’m going to say it again anyways cause… I mean it. I’m really happy to have you here. To finally have you home” you place your arm around Adam’s back rubbing it soothingly as let your head slowly lax onto him, gently cuddling close to him.

That word again… home. That’s all he could think about ever since he first heard you say it. Why? Why couldn’t he get it out of his head? His breathing was becoming unsteady with each new thought and image his brain made. Lilith and Eve, they were made to be apart of his home, for him to be apart of their homes. So why? Why did it end that way?

Suddenly Adam leap from the couch as fast as he could, the shear force knocking you to the other side of the couch, sending the food to scatter and drinks to spill to the floor.

“Adam!?” Your voice was frightened at the sudden movement. Adam looked just as frightened as you, at least from what you could tell through the LED mask. He suddenly began running, where? he didn’t know, the rooms in the house looked the same. But all he knew is that he needed to be away from you. You followed quickly behind him and pleaded for him to tell you what was wrong, but eventually he ran into a room and locked the door.

He looked around, already out of breath. He was in a bathroom. He felt his knees give out under him as he tried to slowly sit down by the tub. His breath heavy, it was hard to breathe, this stupid mask. He needed it off. But just as he went to do so,

*rattle rattle rattle*

The doorknob began to move followed by frantic knocking on the door.

“Adam! Are you ok?!” Your voice pleaded through the wood of the door.

“Fuxk- I'm fine! How many times do I have to tell you that shit” his voice cracked a few times followed by a strand of curses leaving his lips.

Home. The word repeated like a mantra in his head. Like it was mocking him. Was he not meant to have a place he called a home? To have someone to return to, who would tell him “welcome back!” Without even being told to?

Lilith hated him, Eve betrayed and hurt him like no one else before, ever. They were made to be with him, one was literally made to be his other half. The garden, his home, was taken from him because of something, someone he couldn’t control. it all comes back to him. That albino snake in the grass.

Lucifer, ‘The dreamer’… was this some sort of game to him? To toy with his emotions, treat him like some kind of plaything to mess with, to screw over? What kind of life was it? To have every opportunity and opening be broken down by him, And Adam being powerless to stop it?

“Adam! Please open the door!” Your voice was even more frantic now, knocking every few seconds before it quickly quieted down. Your body slumped against the door.

“Adam… I’m sorry if I hurt you or… or if I was going too fast… I didn't mean to… I’m so sorry…” your breath hitched with tears.

And then there was you.

You have been nothing but kind to him since you met him. You showed him around heaven, taught him how to fly and welcomed him home without having being told to. You were so different. So, so very different. Adam figure that out a while ago now. But in reality, it’s exactly why he was terrified.

To have someone who loves him so... unconditionally.

*click*

The sound of the door unlocking drew your attention and was followed by it slowly opening from Adam on the other side, still on the floor.

“Adam!” Your voice was low, already tired from crying. You crawled your way toward him before stopping in front of him, tears still falling from your face, “I’m sorry Adam, I’m sorry-“ you were cut off by a quick movement.

Warmth enveloped you, clouding your senses as a soft weight laid onto you. Arms wrapped their way around you in an embrace.

“Shit- it's not your fault, it was never your fault…” Adam’s voice was surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to his regular tone. Sincerity evident with each word. All you could do was hide into his large frame and cry at the words.

Adam was never good at comforting people. He himself was never comforted, so the concept was more than a bit foreign to him. But even still, he tried. Slowly he helped you both up from the bathroom floor and made your way back to the couch.

The floor was covered in the discarded food you both left behind. The spilled soda is now dried and sticky. Crumbs everywhere.

“Here.. let me get a mop and broom-“

“No just sit down, I’ll clean up the shit I made” you lay down on the couch and watched as Adam swept and mopped the mess from the floor. The entire time the silence hung in the air by a thread. Neither of you wanting to be the one to snap the string and speak.

Finally Adam got done cleaning the mess and made his way to the couch. He sat down and gestured for you to come closer. Crawling over to him, he wrapped the blanket around you both allowing you to snuggle into him.

“Do…” your voice barely audible “Do you want to talk about it?”

Adam looked hesitant but nodded.

“You know about everything, right? About… what all happened in Eden?

You nod against his chest content on listening.

“When… When Lilith left me, I thought I didn't care as much as I did. I thought she was a bitch and that was that. And it didn’t help that as soon as she left, I got Eve…”

He paused

“Then, when I found out about that shit between Eve and Lucifer… I didn’t care then either, but I didn’t understand why…” his voice hitched “but when I ate that damn apple… I realized how hurt I should have been. All the concepts of right and wrong, good and evil, learning all of it through that fruit, I realized one shitty truth… that the one I loved betrayed me.”

You hugged him tighter softly, your hands caressed his stomach as some form of comfort before he continued.

“For the same person- Both of them for that snake…”

“Adam… I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“And that’s why… I’m scared. Scared that I will fuxk up again and get… attached to you. Because every. single. time. He ruins it. And I don't want to see that happen with you.”

Your heart ached for him, the saddening look of his LED mask as he talked only furthered your emotions. Slowly your hands made their way to his face, he looks at you confused, your fingertips crept under the mask before his hand shot up and held your wrist slightly, carefully not holding it too tight.

“Sorry fuck- I’m.. I’m not ready.”

You smile and nod understanding “Adam. I love you… with all of my heart. And I would never do what those two done to you. “

Adam thought for a moment deciding what to say.

“Promise?” was all he could think of, his voice, mind, and body were all too tired to speak more about it.

You slowly remove your hands from his mask, instead taking one of his hands into yours.

“I promise, I would never betray you, let alone talk to that man” ever-so lightly, a soft golden glow burned between yours and Adam’s hands, the gold flame was warm and comforting to both of you as it rose and grew in strength.

From the flame, a string wrapped and warped itself around both yours and Adam’s pinky fingers. The string tightened and loosened as it moved, before finally melting away leaving only two solid gold rings behind, One on Adam’s finger and the other on yours.

“What the hell was that?” Adam’s voice was filled with bewilderment

“A deal- or I guess a promise. In this case”

“Shit, You didn’t have to do that-“ this time it was your turn to interrupt him. You bring Adam’s hand to your lips, and give a kiss on his newly formed ring before lying down and cuddling into Adam.

“I know.”

For once in his life, Adam felt at ease with love. How easy it was to fall for you.

Is this what home feels like?

[flemingsfreckles]

Physio’s Daughter Pt 8

Read the other 7 parts HERE

Warnings: cursing, suggestions to sex, mentions of throwing up, that should be it!

WC: 4.8k

A/N: hello 👋

“Really? You still have interest?” Jessie looks baffled, her eyes wide with raised eyebrows.

“Oh don’t act so surprised, you saw me staring earlier.”

“Yeah I did.” She smiles, thinking back to how she had intentionally wiped her forehead while facing in your direction. She was more than pleased with herself when she put back down her shirt to see you had been watching.

“Look, you said terrible things, and if anything even remotely close to that happens again, I will never speak to you again. But Jessie I really like you. I want to give you a second chance even though maybe I shouldn’t but I’d like to believe what you and Janine both said is true. This isn’t your typical behavior, you’re just under a lot of pressure.”

“I promise I’m not usually like this.”

“I know, that’s why I like you. But that’s also why this is so frustrating and why the other night hurt me so much. I know you’re not usually like this, I know how kind and caring and sweet you are. And if it wasn’t for all this, the fact that we work together, in this dynamic, I would’ve asked you out on a proper date weeks ago.” It’s true, if you haven’t worked with her, if you’d met her at school, at a cafe, just walking down the street, you would’ve already taken her out. You would’ve asked her on dates, but you couldn’t, not when you worked together.

“Then fuck all this,” she gestures to the room and the Canada logo on her own training top. “Just ask anyway.”

“I don’t want to get you or myself in trouble.” You look at the logo on her shirt, it wasn’t that easy to just say fuck it to the team, the team Jessie had represented since she was 15.

“We can talk to whoever we need to.” She spits out.

“Oh be for real Jessie we haven’t even gone on a date, we don’t need to be in Helen’s office signing paperwork already.” You give her a smile, it was nice she was willing to talk to Helen but a little too early.

A smile breaks on Jessie’s face. “Okay, maybe that was a little premature.” The smile from her face fades as she speaks again. “So, maybe we go with the original plan? Wait until these games are over, see where we’re at?”

You nod in agreement. “But for now, coworkers.”

“Coworkers.” Jessie repeats looking at you before a mischievous smile comes across her face.

“What?” You ask, somewhat afraid of what her answer might be.

“This is I think the third time we’ve agreed to be coworkers.” She scoffs.

“No, this time I’m serious.” You do your best to give her a stern look.

“You said that last time.” She laughs

“Shut up.” You can’t help but laugh with her, you two were terrible at being coworkers.

“At least it’s only a few more days and one more game.” She says softly after she’s done giggling.

“Only one more game.”

You quickly found yourself getting ready for that final game. The reality that you were helping prep players for an Olympic gold medal match had you a little extra nervous. Canada was taking on Spain. Reigning World Cup Champions Spain.

The first 90’ minutes of the game felt like they went by in a blink. When the whistle blew the score remained 0-0. Both teams had good shots, both keepers making impressive saves.

The extra time came and went as well and suddenly you felt like you were back a few days ago.

Penalties. Again.

You watch the first few players step up. Julia makes her penalty 1-0, a Spain player makes her’s as well, 1-1. Feeling overwhelmed, you stare at the ground for the next few players. You watch your feet, you don’t even need to watch. You can hear the silence followed by the kick and you get the answer on save or miss through the reactions of the staff standing next to you. Chloe misses, 1-1, Spain makes theirs 1-2, Jordyn makes it 2-2, a player from Spain misses 2-2, Ashley makes her kick, and the Spanish player misses wide, 3-2.

You feel a quick pinch at your side where your Mom’s hand was resting around your waist. You look up to her and she subtly nods toward the field. You turn and watch as Jessie picks up the ball. You can practically feel the air get sucked out of your lungs. She was taking Canada’s fifth and final kick. If she makes it, it’s over. If she misses, Spain has the chance to tie.

You watch her meticulously place the ball, adjusting it a few times. Once she’s satisfied with the ball, she takes three steps back, and looks down, closing her eyes for a moment. You held your breath, beginning to subconsciously time how long she was waiting. You started to panic, feeling like you could puke, it felt like she was waiting too long again, or maybe it just felt like time had frozen. Jessie opened her eyes, and began her approach. She kicked it and you watched as the ball slammed against the back of the net.

You’re practically yanked onto the field by those around you, you’re not even sure where you were running besides the mass of red and white in front of you. You end up in the mob of bodies, receiving random hugs from whoever was around you. You kept your eyes scanning hoping to find Jessie, her height not helping her stand out. You also know she’s likely in the middle of the mass of her teammates, scoring the winning penalty.

As the initial celebration dies down, the players begin to spread out. Some find their families in the crowd, others moving to sit and soak in the moment. You keep your eyes scanning, hoping to find the girl with the armband.

While you’re busy spinning in circles looking for her, someone grabs your hand from behind.

“Come here.” The captain had found you before you could find her. Jessie grabs your hand, pulling you out and away from the crowd. The two of you move over to the side of the pitch, not far off from her teammates but enough to be in your own space. She turns you toward her, dropping your hand.

“I thought about you.” She says, tears in her eyes, her hands holding your face between them, her thumbs gently rubbing your cheeks. “I thought about you when I took that kick. You were my calm person.”

“I almost threw up.” You admit to her.

“What?” Jessie says, a mix of concern and a smile across her face. Her hands are still on your cheeks.

“I was so nervous watching you kick.”

“Oh.” She laughs. “You’re the reason I wasn’t nervous.” You’re grateful Jessie was able to quickly move past the fact that you had almost thrown up from nerves, embarrassed that you even said it to her.

“Congratulations, you deserve it Jessie.” You say, finally getting out the words you prepared and meant to say when you first saw her.

“I wouldn’t have been here without you, you deserve this too.” Her eyes are still locked with yours. You both stand listening to the rest of the team celebrate behind you. You both break eye contact hearing some screaming getting louder.

“Wooooooooo” you watch as Janine goes running by, a flag in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other hand with Jordyn and Julia following shortly behind her yelling to give them back the bottle. You watch as Jessie rolls her eyes at her teammate’s behavior. You both turn back toward each other. This time Jessie’s eyes move down to your lips, then to your eyes and back to your lips. She moves her head slightly toward you.

“Jessie.” You warn her, you don’t want her to stop but you want to remind her that you’re both standing in a packed stadium with hundreds of cameras taking photos.

“Who cares.” She whispers before she starts to lean in again. You start to close your own eyes, not leaning in, wanting this to be her choice to kiss you in front of her team, her coaches, her family that was likely here.

“Congratulations Jessie.” You hear a voice you know all too well to the side of you. One of your Mom’s hands coming down on your shoulder while the other comes down on Jessie’s shoulder. You feel a slight push back on you, breaking up how close you and Jessie were.

Jessie’s hands fall from your face as she turns to look at your Mom.

“Oh, um, thank you, hey congratulations to you too, none of us would be here without all your hard work.”

“Thank you Jessie, assuming you were just thanking my daughter as well?” Your Mom gives you a quick glance, you know she’s teasing both of you, Jessie doesn’t get the message, trying to explain herself.

“Yeah, of course. I mean, she’s been great, um obviously, with my injury of course, my calf, she helped me a lot. I was thanking her for all that.” The way Jessie starts to stutter, tripping over her words as she tries to subtly deny the fact that she was about to kiss you, it was cute. You’re sure if she wasn’t already red in the face from playing, her cheeks would be from embarrassment.

“Hey if I don’t see you again before you players go out tonight, be safe, look out for each other.”

“We will.” Jessie assures your Mom before she walks away leaving you two again.

“She really has impeccable timing doesn’t she.” Jessie looks at you.

“She does.” You say before muttering “cockblock” under your breath only it comes out a little bit louder than you expected.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

You both stand for a second, your chance to kiss clearly over as you’ve both been brought back to reality of standing in the stadium, Jessie’s teammates still running around. You watch as she scans the crowd before her head stops moving and she waves.

“There’s my family.” She points in the direction she waved in and you see a small group of people waving back at her.

“Go.” You shove her in their direction and she looks at you giving you one last smile before taking off running in their direction. You watch her, looking at the back of her jersey as she runs away to be pulled into a group hug. You turn back to go find the rest of the staff, giving your congratulations to whoever you passed in a Canada shirt as they did the same back to you.

The stadium is soon only filled with a sea of red, the Spain supporters leaving. The podiums are brought out at you watch as they begin to set up for the medal ceremony.

The team is quickly ushered back into the changing rooms put on their designated podium outfits. They quickly come back out, lining up to step up and receive their medals.

You stand off to the side, watching as France steps onto the bronze medal platform, followed by Spain. And then you watch as the Canadian team steps up. You can’t help but feel tears in your eyes, watching the girls that you’ve been working with for countless days helping at training, at matches, helping them stretch on the bus or in a hotel room, all those moments, all they had worked for and they did it. You watched as they got their medals Jessie receiving hers from Janine and putting one around Sabrina’s neck.

You watched as Jessie picked up the medal around her neck, examining it with her hands, flipping it around. You watch as Janine leans over, saying something into Jessie’s ear, Jessie immediately picking up her head and looking in your direction. She gives you a smile when her eyes meet yours. Janine must’ve noticed you staring and told her. You give her a thumbs up before they begin playing all the national anthems.

Once the ceremony is finished you stand around a bit longer, watching all the players soak in the moment together. You find yourself catching Jessie’s eye every once in a while until she finally makes her way over to you.

“You’re coming out with us, right?” She slings an arm around your shoulder.

“Tonight?”

“Obviously, we’re going to go celebrate, we’ve got a bar rented out.” You had heard discussions of the post game celebrations, but never really read into them too much, you didn’t want to get too ahead of yourself thinking they’d win, it felt like you’d jinx them.

“I don’t want to intrude, if it’s a player thing.”

“It’s not, everyone’s invited, coaches, staff, families, everyone.” Jessie turns so her lips are against your ear. “Plus, I want you to be there.” She says quietly. You feel your skin prickle at her low voice and the feeling of her breath on your body.

You stumble over your own words as you agree to meet them at the bar later, your brain short circuiting from the feeling of her lips against your ear. “Oh, then yeah I’ll be there.”

You quickly found yourself a couple drinks in, courtesy of the Canadian foundation, in a rather large, but dark bar. Loud music and conversation filling the air. You had only arrived about an hour ago, thankfully it was within walking distance from the hotel. You had gone back and changed into a nicer pair of gray jeans and a simple Canada sweatshirt. Since you opted to change you did not arrive at the same time as Jessie, you had been unable to find her since arriving. You felt like you were back searching for her on the field after the match. Most of the players had remained in their sweatsuits, some changing into other t-shirts, sweatpants. You had found just about every other player, who all led you astray in which direction they last saw their captain.

You make your way back to the bar to get another drink, deciding you’ll just go sit with Olivia and the rest of the staff at the table they had occupied.

“Hey, where have you been?” You feel hands grab tightly onto your hips and you turn to see the brown eyes you’ve been looking for.

“Hi, I changed.” You gesture down to the fact that you were no longer wearing athletic clothing like you did while at work. “but I’ve been here an hour or so, I’ve been running around looking for you.”

“I’ve been looking for you.” Her eyes graze over your body. “You look good.” You can smell the alcohol radiating off of Jessie you’re not sure if it’s alcohol she’s consumed or if it’s just a mix of the champagne that was sprayed across her skin in celebration along with the smell of the bar. Her hands are still firm on your hips. “Come here.” She gently tugs you away from the bar.

“Hang on, let me grab this.” You reach for the beer the bartender had placed in front of you and then let yourself be pulled away.

She moves to grab your free hand instead and keeps pulling you, through the mass of red and white, back to the back corner of the bar and into a small hallway.

“Where are we going?” You ask when she finally stops walking.

“Here, where it’s just you and me.” Her hands find their way back to your hips and she pushes you back so you’re against the cool brick wall. “So we can do this.”

Her hand comes up to your cheek as it did after the game, but this time it doesn’t stop at your cheek she keeps moving it to the back of your neck, gently pulling you toward her and she moves in. This kiss was different than the rest, the rest had been timid, soft, gentle. This kiss was firm, her lips starting to move against yours immediately, its only a few seconds before you feel her tongue against your lips. You part your lips and let your own tongue graze against hers. You get the answer to your earlier question as you can taste the tequila and what you think is vodka on her tongue. The taste has you pulling back.

“Hey.” Jessie protests, a frown across her face.

“Are you drunk?” You put your hand without the beer against her chest, holding her back from leaning in to kiss you again.

“What?” She cooks her head at you.

“Are you just making out with me because you’re drunk? I can taste the liquor.”

“No you idiot, I mean yes I’ve been drinking, but I’m not drunk, plus I’ve wanted to makeout with you for weeks.”

“Okay but we’re in public. You team could see.” It’s not that you don’t believe her when she says she’s not drunk, it’s just you couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy with her choices to suddenly makeout with you in a bar, knowing she had definitely consumed something.

“I don’t care.”

“Jessie, no.” You step away from her..

“What? Oh come on? Because I’ve had three drinks? How many have you had?” She posed a fair question, she had had just as many drinks of you but you had been at the bar for far less time, if anyone was the problem here it would’ve been you.

“I just think you’re not fully considering the consequences of making out with me in a public bar. When you’re sober, we can do this.”

She leans down close to you and you think she’s going to kiss you again, but she brings her mouth toward your ear. “Okay, then I’m done drinking because I want to makeout with you. I promise I’m not drunk, not even tipsy, but if you want to wait that’s fine.”

“Okay.” You reply and Jessie turns walking back into the room. You follow her and watch as she makes her way to the bar, when she turns back she has two bottles of water in her hands.

“You should drink if you want to drink, it’s your night to celebrate.” You say when she comes over to your side, shaking one of the bottles of water at you. You don’t want to be the reason she doesn’t celebrate.

“No, I’m not a big drinker anyway, I had already decided to be done, I just got peer pressured into some shots with some of the youngsters when I first got here.” She takes a large sip of water.

“Jessie.” Your conversation is interrupted by hearing someone call from behind you and a girl runs up to her followed by two other men and a woman.

“Hi! Oh I’ve miss you.” Jessie takes the girl into a tight hug before releasing her and moving onto the next person hugging the next person.

“We’re so proud of you honey!”

“Thanks Mom.” Jessie mutters into the women’s hug. That's when you’re able to make the connection, this was Jessie’s family standing in front of you.

“This is my family, my mom, dad, sister and brother.” She points to each person. She introduced her family to you. She starts explaining how you’ve helped her with her injuries, and how you help everyone with stretching and staying healthy. She’s singing your praises to her family, making you blush standing next to her.

You stick around for a couple minutes as Jessie continues to talk about you. Not wanting to force her family to listen to stories about you, you tell Jessie you’ll be over at a table and leave her to enjoy the moment with her family.

You slide into a booth next to Janine and a few other people you didn’t know, assumed friends and family of the team. It doesn't take long for Janine to bring up the topic of Jessie.

“Just so you know,” Janine claps her hand hard against your back, giving you a slight shake. She leans in close to you. “I’m spending tonight, and probably the rest of the nights we’re here in his hotel room.” She points at the man next to you who now you recognize from photos to be her fiancé. “So there won’t be someone else in Jessie’s room.” You pull back to just look at her, you couldn’t believe what she was implying.

Janine must’ve thought you didn’t understand what she was suggesting when you didn’t respond. “Ya know, if you and a certain someone want to-”

“I know what you meant!” You spit out quickly. Taking a sip of the water you had. Upon your snappy response Janine quickly changed the subject, eying up the medal around her neck again, showing it to her fiancé.

It wasn’t long before you felt the booth sag next to you and Jessie alone with her sister found themselves next to you in the booth.

“Elysse!” Janine exclaims reaching over you and Jessie to attempt to hug the girl. Both of them leaning in pushes you and Jessie practically into each others laps.

“Sorry.” You apologize to Jessie, it wasn’t your fault but you felt like you were squishing her.

“All good.” She gives you a sweet smile before returning to her own personal space as Janine removes herself from across you two.

“Hey.” she slaps Jessie’s leg getting her attention. “I just finished telling this one that-” You almost go to cover Janine’s mouth with your hand. You know she’s been drinking and you also knew what was about to come out of her mouth. But you don’t stop her, instead you tilt your head down clenching your eyes hoping it’ll stop Janine’s words, only it doesn’t. “I’ll be in Ethan’s hotel room the rest of the trip, if you want to use it.”

“Oh.” You can feel Jessie’s eyes burning into the side of your head as you slowly open your eyes and send a pointed look in Janine’s direction.

“What?” She says, reading the uncomfortable looks you and Jessie were both giving her. “Oh what, do you two really think you’re doing such a good job of keeping it secret? You were practically making bedroom eyes at each other during the medal ceremony today.”

“Janine!” Jessie shouts at her friend before just shaking her head. You finally have the courage to take a glance at Jessie, her eyes are wide, she looks uncomfortable, you can also see her sister behind her looking between you and Jessie, trying to stifle a laugh.

“Alright, it might be time to get you out of here.” Janine’s fiancé says, grabbing Janine’s hand as he stood up. He gives a quick wave at the table, half as an apology, half as a goodbye. You all wave back to him and Janine and they walk into the mass of people.

You sat for a little bit longer, some teammates coming to join your table for a few minutes to chat before they’d run off to talk with someone else. It was only an hour later that Jessie’s Dad found his way to the table. “Jess, we’re going to get out of here, it’s late and we’re not young anymore, we’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah of course.” Jessie responds, she smacks your leg a few times then pointing to the side of you. You get the hint and stand up to let her out of the table. You watch as she stands up giving her Dad a tight hug.

“Coming now or later?” Her Dad looks at Jessie’s sister.

“Now, just give me a second to use the restroom.” She nods and her Dad walks away after they agree to meet outside.

“I don’t have to pee, I just wanted him to walk away. You two enjoy your night without Janine.” She says with a wink and a look between the two of you. You look over to Jessie who’s sporting a blushed red face. Her sister stands up to hug her and whispers something into Jessie’s ear, making her turn even more red. She gives you a quick wave and heads in the direction of the door.

“I think I’m going to call it a night too, feeling tired.” You say, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of the day hit you all at once. A yawn coming out of your mouth.

“I was actually thinking the same thing.” Jessie flashes you a smile. “Would you want to walk together?” You’re not sure if Jessie actually was ready to go or just decided she was going to leave since you were.

“That would be nice.” You take the empty water bottle from her hand and toss it onto the bin with yours. “Do you need to say bye to anyone?” Jessie just shakes her head.

“Do you?” You shake your head back. Your Mom had gone out with some of the older training staff, not wanting to be in a rowdy bar, Olivia was still around but you’d text her later letting her know you were back in your room. You’re not sure even if you said goodbye to anyone if they’d remember it in the morning or not.

The night was quiet when you stepped outside of the bar, Jessie shortly behind you. You start walking in the direction of the hotel and she quickly jogs to catch up. The two of you walk side by side down the roadway.

“Does it feel different the second time?” You break the silence asking.

“Does what feel different?” Her pace slows down as she turns her head to look at you.

“Winning gold.”

You hear her breathe in and then watch as she tilts her head slightly, deep in thought.

“It’s different, but I’m not sure if it's the winning that’s different. Last time it was an empty stadium, we didn’t get to do the celebrations with family and friends, there weren’t people watching, it felt so isolated, but it was in a weird way more peaceful. We got to just sit on the field, really soak it in.” She took another breath. “We didn’t get to do that, even if we could’ve there would’ve been fans, it would’ve been rowdy. Not to say one is better than the other, but yeah it’s different. I also wasn’t captain last time, so this time was more stressful, I felt like a lot of it was on me. Even though I know it wasn’t, it just felt that way.”

You hum acknowledging her answer as you walk into the lobby of the hotel. It’s thankfully pretty empty, Jessie's teammates still out celebrating and only a few other country’s athletes sitting around. You both get into the elevator, you press the button and you can feel a tension building as you ride up in silence. When you get out you walk Jessie to her door first, wanting to be polite and make sure she gets in alright.

“I’m sorry if Janine made it weird earlier. I'm not sure why she said that. I mean I get it but, I don’t want you to think I told her that was going to happen or anything. I don’t expect it to.” Jessie turns before she puts her keycard to the door.

“It’s all good. Little uncomfortable, especially with your sister there but it’s alright.” You shrug. It was uncomfortable but you didn’t mind too much, you had already forgotten about the conversation until Jessie brought it up again.

“Yeah, I’m sure I’ll have to explain myself to her later, she thought it was funny, she teased me for how red I got.”

“Yeah.” You both stand awkwardly outside of Jessie’s hotel room, you shift your weight between your feet, swaying slightly.

“Um, do you want to-”

“Have a goodnight-”

You both speak at the same time.

“Go ahead.” She gestures to you.

“I was just going to say goodnight.” You didn’t want to invite yourself into her hotel room despite Janine’s offer.

“Oh, yeah okay.” You can tell she seems a little disappointed.

“What were you saying?”

“I was going to invite you in?” Jessie looks up at you, her eyes with a glimmer of hope in them. She blinks quickly a few times before adding “Only if you want to, you don’t have to, I’m not expecting anything, you don’t even have to stay very long if you don’t want to, I just thought,”

“Jessie.” You cut her off, able to tell she was starting to overthink by the way her hands were fidgeting. “I’d like to come in.” You say before you lean down, now it’s her back pressed against the wall as your lips find hers. You pull away before any of her teammates or god forbid your mother decides to take a trip down the hallway and sees you two. Jessie turns to unlock the door and you follow her inside. You pull your phone out quickly texting Olivia.

You: Probably not coming back to the room at all tonight, or if I do it’ll be late, don’t worry about me I’m safe.

It takes a minute but she responds.

Olivia: Thanks for the heads up, I expect all the details of your escapades tomorrow

Olivia: seriously though, be safe, don’t do anything stupid.

You look up from your phone over at Jessie, thinking to yourself at least if you “do” anything, it wasn’t considered doing anything stupid, Jessie was smart.

[moseslikellamas]

♱𖣂 Redfork Menace ♱𖣂 pt.18

Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!OC

Summary - A dance is held.

Warnings - fem!reader, suspense, adult language, period typical misogyny, condescension, adult language, feelings of shame, feelings of guilt, manipulation, benjicot brainrot, Kieran Burton fancast.

Word count - 2k

Hiiiiiii. I decided to skip the other questioning scene mostly bc I just didn’t wanna write it. I might do a flashback to it later but 🤷🏻‍♀️. Anyway!! I hope we all have a homie like Martyn who will forgive our crimes no questions asked. Here’s some nice Harp music if u want the vibes. All the songs mentioned are in asoiaf.

Shanda was oddly excited given the circumstances, Benjicot had, as he promised, ripped her to shreds during questioning. It was embarrassing to even think about it. She had never been very good at hiding her emotions, displaying them on her face clear as day. He had known that and used it to a harrowing degree. It was lucky she had Martyn to back her up or it would’ve been even worse. Her brother was another can of worms she still had to deal with. But none of this was why she was spinning around her room, excited.

After the disaster of questioning, Lord Elmo had made an announcement.

“Alright you mangy cunts, before I break your hearts and shatter your dreams, I have a proposal. And no, it is not voluntary. You will show up.”

Grumbles went up at that but he had only shot a look that communicated death on protest into the crowd before continuing.

“We’re going to have a dance tonight. That’s right, a proper ball! Now, when was the last time we were all together like this? This is an opportunity for you all to start fresh and build some new relationships. You will behave or I promise a little dance with a pretty girl will be the least of your worries.”

The room was buzzing with whispers before he even finished and Shanda had missed whatever he said after that. As she had already made her way through the crowd to her brother.

“I believe we’ll have a chance to sneak out before it ends to truly talk. I swear, I’ll tell you everything.”

To his credit, Martyn hadn’t been upset at all. Just nodded before he melted into the crowd, losing her and any prying eyes. It was just as well he did as Alysanne found her right after.

“Come on, let’s find something for you to wear.”

Shanda had decided to forgive Alysanne as she hadn’t testified against her. Not that the testimony wouldn’t really contribute one way or the other in the end. It was the thought that mattered. So she let her lead the way.

“How do you know these halls so well?” She asked after the third winding corridor they had turned down.

“Go to enough of these trials and you get bored. Elmo’s like a grumpy uncle, doesn’t mind me poking around a few places. Given I do my part to sway the idiots at home when sentencing rolls around.”

“Are you ever successful?”

Alysanne laughed, grabbing her arm. “Sometimes. Mostly no, but I do try my best.”

Shanda nodded, that was as she figured. At last they came to a door that looked the same as any other but when Alysanne pulled it open, it appeared to be a clothes storage room.

“How strange. Why do they have this?” She asked, looking in at all the various pieces.

“Hand me downs. Elmo says they’ve got generations of Tully ancestors' clothes in here. Which is why he doesn’t mind that we borrow some. Now let’s look.”

Shanda had not looked long when she came across the dress she wanted. It was made so that two pieces joined together over one another. The sleeves were a part of the undergown and blue, so dark it was nearly black. The overgown of the dress was an intricate gold design with calla lilies stitched on in white. It took her breath away. She hadn’t even bothered to see what Alysanne was getting, just grabbed the dress and left.

That led her to where she was now, happily spinning around her room in the beautiful gown. It would be nice to have a single night where she didn’t have to worry about anything. She could just dance and eat, then sneak away to beg her brother's pardon for lacking the good sense the gods gave her. She thought it was ambitious of Lord Elmo to think they could pull this off without any quarreling. But perhaps everyone could behave for just one night.

A knock sounded at her door. She moved to answer it and was delighted to see Martyn standing outside.

“Seems we’ve finally convinced them I’m not going to abscond with you.”

She snorted, taking his offered arm. “Yeah right. Lord Elmo probably tripled the guards for tonight. Fat chance we’ll be sneaking anywhere.” She said loudly enough the guard at her door could hear. It was the first time she had seen him actually stand outside her door.

She dragged her feet so they would not arrive so soon.

“Martyn, I should’ve warned you. I knew he was going to be insane. I, well, suppose I was ashamed.” Her face was tinged pink with remembrance.

“I don’t care. I never did. That day Royce pushed you in the river, I nearly cut his head off.”

She stopped at that, putting a hand on his chest shocked. “You didn’t.”

He rolled his eyes at her before continuing to walk. “Obviously, he’s still here. But I strongly considered it, crazy thing is he would’ve let me. He just accepted that I would kill him and that he deserved it.”

Shanda frowned, her brother had a haunted look in his eyes telling her.

“It’s not right. All of us are fighting. Our mother would be livid to see it, Shan.”

That tugged a smile on her face. Their mother would be yelling at them all.

“‘Family’s all you’ve got!’” She mimicked and Martyn chuckled.

“Too bad she left us with this family and not some other one.” He sighed.

“Come on, let’s find Royce. See if we can’t get him drunk enough to forgive me.” She exclaimed as they entered the great hall once more.

All of the tables were removed, besides the few that held food and drinks. Beautiful streamers of blue and red covered the corners of the room, embroidered with the Tully sigil. Shanda was awe struck by the bead work on them, they flashed iridescent giving the impression of real life scales.

“Let me talk to him first.”

He was gone by the time she replied off handedly, “Yeah, sure.”

She had gotten up close to the banner, admiring the impressive needle work. The beads were pieces of broken clam shell, sewn into the fabric. It must be tedious work to break the shells and then make holes in them.

“A Tully specialty.”

She jumped at Lord Elmo’s booming voice. She’d been so focused she hadn’t noticed him approaching.

“It’s beautiful. Must be awfully tedious work though.” She smiled up at the lord.

“No more so than presiding over court.”

She blushed at that, feeling a bit ashamed.

“I suppose not.”

He clapped her on the back. “Ah don’t worry about it! It always works out in the end. Though, not so well. Or else you all wouldn’t keep coming back.”

On that rather contradictory note, the lord left. Flowers of spring was playing in the background as she looked around the room. It was evident that the riverlanders had taken Lord Elmo’s words to heart. As she saw many of them talking cordially and a few brave souls had even dared to dance.

“May I have this dance, m’lady?” It was Beck Grey who asked.

“Is that? No, it couldn’t possibly be Rebecken Grey. He’s only five two and has a gap tooth.”

Beck smiled at her, every tooth gleaming in the torch light as he led her onto the floor.

“Amazing what seven years will do for a man, is it not?”

They spun around the floor together effortlessly. Beck was a cousin of hers on her mother’s side and it had been a great deal of time since she had seen him.

“I have to agree, it will do wonders. My knees are not half so knobbly now and my aim is much improved.”

“So I hear. Is that how you managed to almost slay Benjicot?” He smiled coyly at her.

“Oh cousin, a dance is not enough for secrets I’m afraid. But if Aunty Harra really wants to know, tell her I’m sure we can work out a deal.”

He shook his head at her ruefully. “Some things never change, eh?”

Before she could answer him they were interrupted.

“Mind if I cut in?”

Shanda would’ve advised her cousin that yes they did mind but he had already stepped aside. He shot him a nasty look as he walked away but he just winked.

“How are you enjoying the dance?” Benjicot asked once they began to move together.

The song had switched to Fallen Leaves which was slower and much sadder.

“Fine before you butted in. Can’t find another pretty girl to bother in all of the riverlands?”

They swayed back and forth, barely turning about.

“Why should I? I’ve made my intentions clear.”

“How about common decen-“

He interrupted her, pulling her closer so he could whisper in her ear.

“Decency is me covering for you while you sneak out to try and rebuild your sibling bond.”

She pulled back aghast. How did he know? Rolling her eyes she blew out a frustrated breath.

“Stop spying on me!”

“Okay sweetheart, but you might want to make your move now. I think the little one is making a break for it.”

Shanda saw what he meant as she met Martyn’s eyes across the floor. He looked exasperated and was quickly going after a hurried Royce.

“Shit.” She muttered before rushing after them.

Benjicot pulled her up short though.

“Wait, half the room will see you follow if you go now. Dance one more with me.”

He was probably right but she really didn’t care at the moment.

“No, I’ll miss them if I wait!”

But he held on to her firmly as the song shifted into the familiar tones of Fall of Maidenpool. She wrinkled her brow as the harp picked up.

“Lord Elmo’s a bit on the nose with this one.” She laughed.

“What do you mean?”

She gave him an incredulous look. “You’re joking right?”

When he stared blankly at her she groaned and explained.

“It’s about the fall of Maidenpool, the defeat of a Riverlander by the Andals. Florian the brave, one of the last great kings. It’s a metaphor for all of us. Hatred, spite and violence are our Andals, and we let them in every day. Tearing ourselves apart from the inside and because of it our lands are weak, disorganized. Ready for a collapse, just like Maidenpool.” She sighed, gutted at the thought.

When she looked back at Benjicot, he was staring at her.

“I think you’ll be safe to go now.” He whispered.

She was out of his grasp and out the door in the next instant, the sound of Maidenpool drifting further away as she looked for her brothers. Walking along the halls it didn’t take her long to hear them.

“…sense of it!”

“Just wait! She’s coming to explain.”

Martyn’s expression was one of relief as she rounded the corner and layed eyes on him. Royce was standing upright looking tense, whereas Martyn sat calmly on the floor.

“See,” Martyn beamed. “Here she is.”

“Right well, explain then.”

“Royce, you hot headed fool.” She held up a hand to silence him when he tried to interrupt her. “Listen to me. However much I grieve that mother went away in hopes of procuring me a suitor, I do not hold myself responsible and do you know why?”

He silently raged in front of her.

“Because our mother could not be swayed nor bullied into doing anything less than what she set out to do. There was nothing you, me or even our father could’ve said to pull her back. Secondly, I have not given up hope on finding her killers and if you give me some time I just might.”

“Oh bullshit, Shanda. You can’t sneak your way into finding everything out.”

“No but you can fucking negotiate your way into just about anything. Pull your head out of your ass! The entire riverlands is here, Royce. Waiting in that room for three very interesting Brackens to chat them up. They are dying for us to talk to them, make a move. Do something useful and help me!”

She could see the struggle playing out in her brother's mind across his face. He made a frustrated noise before running his hands through his hair.

“What do I say?”

Shanda smirked at Martyn before the three of them set to scheming.

[swe3troses]

🐚10 Things I Hate About You (pt.1) Jack Hughes X Reader

 ‘I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair.’

 Luke Hughes was over the moon. He was finally gonna get to play high school hockey like his mother always wanted him to. Of course, he didn’t mind that his older brothers were also on the team, and he was most likely going to be called the ‘littlest’ Hughes. He made his way to the castle like high school, meeting up with his oldest brother, Quinn Hughes, so he could get a tour of the huge high school.  

“Hey! What’s up Luke.” he heard his brother say casually as he walked towards him.

“Hey Quinn…what are you wearing?” Luke said, looking at his brother. His brother was wearing a white and blue button up t-shirt that was obviously way too big for him and some khaki jorts.

“What are you talking about, this is some top tier styling.” Quinn said while posing a bit. Luke rolled his eyes.

“Just give me the tour.” he said with a little sass looking at his brother.

“Ok well, here are your emo pixie manic dream girls…don’t act too much like Micheal Cera around them.” Quinn said gesturing to a group of girls that were all either singing or reading some obscure book that they obviously found while thrifting.

“Then we have your Stoner’s and mathletes, they all hang around each other, please don’t ask me why.” Quinn says gesturing to a group in a big ball of smoke and some kids solving a math problem on a whiteboard. Luke raised his eyebrow. What the hell was going on at this school.

“Then those are your popular people and elitists…don’t bother talking to them.”

“Why?”

“Hey!” Quinn says to the group, they all stare at him with weird looks and one of them says ‘bite me.’

“Ok, now I see why.” They continue walking as Quinn points out groups to his little brother. But soon his voice falls on deaf ears as Luke watches a girl pass by. The girl had long black hair and sharp siren-like eyes. She was wearing a floral sundress and white chunky sandals. She had gold hoops in and freckles that spread perfectly across her face. She had pink plump lips and a smile so white it blinded him. She was tiny, standing at around 5′0, the only big thing about her being her boobs. She and her blonde friend were talking about something.

“Jesus, who is that?” Luke questions wiping his chin as he looks at the girl who was about a foot shorter than him. 

Quinn laughs obnoxiously, “Luke, do not even think about that at all. That there, my friend is Bianca L/N and she is untouchable and totally conceited.” 

“Hey, don’t say that, look at her, I mean she’s gorgeous.” Luke said as the girl smiled showing her dimples. 

“Listen, Luke, Girls like that, will never look at you, she’s wearing that strategically planned sundress to let guys like us know that we will never touch her and boys like Trevor Zegras realize they want her.” He gestured towards another hockey player that was on their team named Trevor Zegras who was also staring at Bianca.

“Don’t say that look, she is just so deep.” Luke said gazing at the girl trying to listen in on what she was saying. 

“See, there’s a difference between like and love, because I like my Miss Dior perfume, but I love my Prada backpack.” 

“But I love my Miss Dior.” Her blonde friend replied.

“That’s because you don’t have a Prada backpack.”

“I need her…how can I get close to her.” Luke asked his older brother.

“I mean, I heard she’s looking for a French tutor if you somehow learned French and have time for it in-between hockey.”

“That’s perfect!”

“So you learned French and have time?”

“No! But I will!”

While that was going on a girl by the name of Y/N L/N was in her literature class, Jack Hughes came into the class for a moment and started speaking. 

“Has class started?”

“No, but please take your-”

“Ok! Later!” Jack said before walking out the class.

“Hey you can’t just-!” The teacher said before quickly giving up, obviously tired of his job.

The bell rang and then the teacher, Mr. Morgan, started speaking.

“So, what did everyone think of ‘The sun also rises?’”

A pink short haired girl raised her hand and instantly started speaking without the teacher even calling on her.

“I loved it, it was so romantic.” she said dreamily, clasping her hands together.

“Romantic? Hemingway?” Y/N said scoffing “He was an abusive alcoholic misogynist who spent half his life hanging around Picasso trying to nail his leftovers.” She finished rolling her (e/c) eyes.

“As opposed to a bitter self-righteous hag who has no friends.” Trevor replies looking around the class with a smug smirk.

“Pipe down chachi!” Mr. Morgan yelled, causing Trevor’s ego to deflate.

“I guess in this society being male and an asshole makes you worthy of our time.” Y/N replies, turning her body towards Trevor as the class laughs. “What about Sylvia Plath, or literally any other female writer that doesn't have a negative connotation associated with them.” Y/N said putting some of her h/l h/c hair behind her ear.

“Mr. Morgan, is there any way we could get Y/N to take her Midol before she comes to class.” Trevor says with a smug look.

“Someday you’re gonna get bitch slapped and I am not gonna do anything to stop it.” Mr. Morgan replies with a smug look back “Y/N I want to thank you for your point of view, I know how difficult it must be to overcome all those years of upper middle-class oppression, must be tough, but before you start talking about that think about why they can’t buy a book written by a Black Man!” Mr. Morgan says looking at her.

“That’s right man!” two white boys say.

“Don’t even get me started on you two…” Mr. Morgan says as the two boys put their fists down.

“Anything else?” Y/N asks.

“Yeah, go to the office you’re pissing me off again.”

“Mr. Morgan-?” 

“Later!” He says dramatically before Y/N grabs her books walking out.

Y/N walked with her friend as she explained what happened walking to her car.

“Well then Mrs. Meyer reminded me that I kicked Trevor in the balls, and I still maintain he kicked himself in the balls.” she said casually as her friend Nayeon laughed.

“I don’t think that is exactly what happened.” Nayeon said as she got in Y/N’s car pulling her red skirt down a bit.

Quinn drove in front of Y/N’s red car on a motorcycle. Knowing her and her temper she looked at the hockey player in disgust.

“Get out the way Bozo!” she shouted speeding away before seeing her sister, Bianca.

“I know you can be overwhelmed, and underwhelmed but can you just be whelmed?” Bianca asked her blonde friend Chastity.

“I think you can in Europe!” Chastity replies before Trevor pulls up in his bronco.

“You hot young thangs need a ride?” he asked, smirking before Bianca and Chastity giggled getting in the back of his Bronco before he sped away.

“That is one shocking new development.” Nayeon stated in disgust.

“I am not surprised,” Y/N said before honking her red car once again, but this time at Luke. 

“Jesus! Get out of the way!” she said before speeding away blasting Indie rock music.

“Who was that?” Luke asked, obviously a little annoyed.

“That my dear brother is the shrew, Y/N L/N, your girlfriend's sister.” Quinn said trying not to laugh at his brother’s reaction.

“That mean, pretty girl is Bianca’s sister?” Luke asked in shock.

Later, Y/N was reading ‘The Bell Jar’ while sitting in a green chair. She was in some gray PJ pants and a blank tank top. Her dad came up to her flipping through a newspaper.

“Make anyone cry today Y/N?” Her dad asked her looking at a story in the newspaper.

 “Sadly, No, but it is only 4:30.” She said, smiling at her father. He returned the smile before Bianca came into the room.

“Hi dad!” she said, kissing him on the cheek, having to go on her tiptoes to do so.

“Why hello precious.” her dad said back smiling at his daughter.

“Where have you been?” Y/N asked, tucking some of her h/l h/c behind her ear.

“Nowhere.” Bianca replied sassily, flipping some of her long black hair over her shoulder a pink tint painting her freckled face.

Y/N’s dad picked up some mail before looking at it confused.

“What’s this, it says Sarah Lawrence?” her dad said looking at the letter before Y/N squealed and jumped happily taking the letter in her hands smiling “I got in!” she said, running to another couch.

“Honey…that is great but isn’t Sarah Lawrence a Law firm on the other side of the country?” Her dad asked, “Don’t you wanna stay here to find a college closer to home…so you could fully become a husky like me.” her dad said, faking a growl.

“Sarah Lawrence is one of the best colleges and the basis of its appeal is being far away from Michigan.” the girl says, still smiling at the paper.

“C’mon Y/N are you just gonna pick up and leave, is that it?” he says a little frustrated now.

“Let’s hope so!” Bianca said smiling.

“Tell dad who drove you home today.” Y/N replied.

“Who drove you home?”

“Now don’t overreact dad but this guy named Trevor on the hockey team-”

“Who’s a flaming imbecile!” Y/N added as Bianca tried to step closer to her.

“And I think he might ask me-”

“Please, Please I think I know what he is going to ask you,” Bianca’s dad said as she guided her to the couch next to Y/N

“I also think I know the answer, No! It is always No! What are the two-house rules? Number 1, No dating till you graduate college, Number 2, No dating till you graduate high school, That’s it.”

“Daddy, that is so unfair!” Bianca said, folding her arms over her chest.

“You wanna know what is unfair? This morning I delivered a set of twins to a 15- year-old girl, younger than both of you, do you know what she said to me?” Y/N’s dad said as he looked between both of his daughters.

“I am a dumbass who should’ve made my sleazy boyfriend wear a condom?” Bianca replied, rolling her brown eyes.

Their dad pursed his lips before speaking again “Close, but no, she said I should’ve listened to my father.”

“She did not!” Bianca replied as Y/N rolled her e/c eyes at her father.

“But that is what she would’ve said if she wasn’t on so much anesthesia.” he replies.

“Can we focus on me for a second! I am the only girl in school who doesn't date!” Bianca states dramatically, twiddling her fingers.

“Oh no you’re not, your sister doesn’t date.”

“I also don’t intend to, have you seen the unwashed monsters that attend and roam that school spreading their stink around?” Y/N said, folding her arms in front of her chest.

“What planet are you from? Planet loser?” Bianca said about to tackle her sister. 

“As opposed to Planet ‘Look at mey, look at mey’” Y/N replied, flapping her s/c arms around as she mocked Bianca’s voice.

Their dad claps, causing both of the gorgeous girls to look at him one with a pout and one with a smirk.

“Ok new rule out new rule in, Bianca can date.” Their dad says smiling as Y/N looks at him like he's crazy and Bianca smiles smugly sticking her tongue out at her sister.

“When Y/N does.”

A/N: hey guys sorry this wasn’t so focused on Y/n(you) and Jack just yet, I am trying to establish the plot first, the next chapter will be more romantic and focus more on y/n. there will be 10 parts because, 10 things I hate about you, and they will be released between 2-4 days, thank you for supporting and reading. Also here is a key.

Y/n-Your name

L/n-Last name

e/c-Eye color

h/l-Hair length

h/c-Hair color

s/c-Skin color

[theplatypusblue]

DR SEASON 2 PT 1 GENERAL THOUGHTS AND OPINIONS TIME

Spoilers for basically everything under the cut :P

In vaguely chronological order (I have already forgotten half of what happened ✌️)

I definitely think the first half is kinda… weak? Somehow? The latter half tho. Oh that latter half. It just felt stronger when we had more stuff going on, I guess. It really started picking up once we met the dragon masters

Man I’m also curious about what got Egalt so emo about humans. Give me the elderly dragon emo backstory…. Give me the centuries old tea about what happened….

Dorama is just?? Hanging out in the desert I guess???? I wonder if we’ll ever get a follow up on that or if it’s just. Y’know. Also I wonder how he controls that puppet thing. Cuz it doesn’t have strings but also I feel like if it was a robot he would be like. Piloting it or something. Who knows.

SPINJITZU BROS MENTIONED!! SPINJITZU BROS MENTIONED!!!! When Wu talked about the sphinx and the Warriors of Felis I was like!!!!!!!!! 👀‼️👆👆👀👀 Ninjago flashback sequences never miss fr‼️

Speaking of flashbacks…. Kai and Nya childhood stuff… the babiues… bwabbies….. babbuysss…. bebies………… buueghugugubuh

AND THE FLASHBACK WITH JAY AND COLE FIGHTING OVER STUPID BULLSHIT AND THEN IMMEDIATELY STOPPING ONCE THEY SAW SOMETHING VAGUELY NOODLE SHAPED they’re literally so stupid I love them so much. Somebody save them.

Okay tbh when the wolf-warrior Jay stuff leaked I was kinda confused but now I think I can see how we get from point a to point b. Like, Jay. feels like he has to hide his powers for whatever reason, then maybe Ras comes in like “Stop hiding your powers. Quit your job. Join my emo band”

Also Jay screen time has been upgraded! From 30 seconds!!! To 90 seconds!!! 🙌🙌🙏 woo!!!

Cole saying “I’m always adorable >:)” when he has that dog potion I have Art Ideas™ hehe

Ras AND Lloyd have visions…. It’s makes me suspicious somehow. Especially since Ras’ master is kind of associated with gold/yellow. Is his master a source dragon? Like, an evil source dragon??? Cuz that’s the only being we’ve seen so far that can induce visions like that but idk…

When Ras put that shocker thing on the forbidden five guy’s neck, that was like, genuinely kinda scary/intimidating. Cuz like, the whole time, the forbidden five were like, spoken about all mysteriously n stuff. But then Ras just comes in like “ur working for me lol you do what I tell you to ✌️”. Like all the Blood Moon stuff made it seem like they’d be an unstoppable force once they were through that portal, but it turns out they were just another piece of some big evil plan. Crazy.

Now the REAL question is… how the tf is wyldfyre gonna get a boyfriend?? Is it just gonna be some guy she meets in pt 2? Like just some random ass dude????? Cuz there’s been zero (0) setup for that plot point in pt 1, so I have no idea how that’s gonna play out. I’m not upset abt it I’m just totally completely lost and confused if that makes sense. Like how do we even get there bro???

[sardonic-sprite]

Dad!Tim AU pt 6

Bc Q keeps randomly knocking down my door and screaming EIRA every few months/aff

Part 1

Within a week the family has worked together to craft an official statement for the press

If it weren't for goddamn ras tim would be advocating the "keep all reporters and paps the fuck away from my baby" approach, but as it is he just has to try to minimize damage

They hold a small press conference in Wayne tower, where they've got absolute top security around, and Bruce is right by Tim's side expressing unwavering support and 0 judgment as Tim states that he's stepping down from his position (not CEO he was in charge if like R&D since Bruce came back)... in order to care for his infant daughter

Dead silence. Wide-eyed stares

Tim takes a deep deep breath and says

"Her name is Eira Bahar Wayne. Her mother is my best friend *he's a bit choked up, because he's never going to get them to understand exactly what steph is, more than friend, other than lover, one of the most amazing women in the world* and if you will all take a moment now to turn off any flash or recording lights... they'll come out and say hello."

It was a calculated move, introducing Eira literally in Stephs arms. Tim's the famous one, no one will forget that he's a teen parent, that he claimed this kid. He's also eiras literal biological father, she has 23 chromosomes from him and sooner or later that's going to become apparent

She also has 23 chromosomes from a woman who is not steph.

There can't ve any doubt in the publics mind that steph carried and bore Eira, tho, or ras has an in. So Eira meets the world this way, so that the very first pictures to exist of her are *with her mother*, with Steph smiling so lovingly and holding her totally correct, eiras blanket and stephs dress even subtly matching and complimenting Tim's suit.

That's why he goes to meet them, arm around stephs back, and brushes eiras little Itty bitty curls that Tim thinks are from his mom, and they step forward as a unit

He thinks it works

Camera shutters are GOING OFF (thankfully no flash, he didn't want to go red robin on them) and several reporters are awwing and sighing

They ask a few questions, to Tim and to steph. They share facts - eiras birth height and weight, how long Tim and steph have known each other - but not stories - how long wad the birth, did you decide to have a child or happy accident?

Tim kind of wants to punch the guy who asked that but he forces a laugh and says it's rude to ask a lady such things

And then it's over and the next day 3 different newspapers have it as the headline story

Eira becomes a celebrity overnight. All of Gotham is SCREECHING about how adorable she is, how adorable their family is, how Tim is now a DILF (he blocks that tag) how lucky steph is to have Tim and eira

(There's other screeching too, about teen parents and recklessness and gold digging and debauchery and-- Babs keeps all that off Tim's and stephs feeds, monitoring it herself to ensure it never gets too loud)

Tumblr has an EIRA WAYNE PROTECTION SQUAD blog with over a hundred followers, #eiratheadorable is trending on Twitter, and they've recievied probably fifty handmade baby things in the past 2 months - blankets, hats, mittens, an empty scrapbook to fill, a nursery-appropriate superheroes painting

It's a little overwhelming but it's kind of nice

Tim and steoh make sure to go out and be seen every few weeks, together or apart, with eira on their hip, in a baby sling, in a stroller. For the most part people keep a respectful distance as they beam and coo and wave, and anyone who doesn't is quickly blocked by Cass or Damian, or dick when he's in town

(Jason isn't supposed to be alive and Bruce was found to be way too over protective. Tim AGREES but daaaad stop, you can't give away your batman voice bc one idiot had his flash on)

And exactly 3 months after eiras announcement, the perfect amount of time to cement her as part of the family, cute and tiny and lovable, an ideal in Gotham imagination...

Bruce and Talia announce their marriage and the date for a public, FANCY, vow-renewal, and take the people by STORM

Ta da?

[playlistsbybunny]

cyberpunk

i like the way you kiss me - artemas

montagem mysterious game - lxngvx

haunted - laura les

smoke it off! - lumi athena

get jinxed - league of legends

what you want! - asteria

suffocation - noturgf

glow - snow wife

hypnotic data - odetari

labyrinth - miracle musical

rave - dxrk

0% angel - mr.kitty

summit - skrillex

vanished - crystal castles

the song of flynn - daft punk

tymah - the violent youth

dark beach - pastel ghost

oblivion - grimes

game over - alex

01001111 01110010 01100001 01101110 01100100 01101111 - seelenkodex

yukon - joji

burbank house - tsubi club

new gold - gorillaz

murder in my mind - kordhell

playground - bea miller

demons - hayley kiyoko

high enough - k.flay

jerk - oliver tree

more than i remember you - unlike pluto

chlorine - twenty one pilots

link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7khmdwrp253hN2Vci7Q0DF?si=4bf753fc69a94eaa&pt=527fb0f5ea783a9cc80a84c1945787ce

[sammy8d257]

In the Week that Follows - Chap. 2: Day 1 - Cleaning (part 2)

An AvM fanfic Written by Sammy8D257

Part of the Watered Down Hot Chocolate Series

Cover Art / Day 0 / Day 1: 1 - 2 - 3 / Day 2 / Day 3 / Day 4 / Day 5 / Day 6 / Day 7 / Day 8

Chapter Word Count: 6887

Characters: King (He/Him), Purple (They/Them), (Only mentioned but Gold uses They/Them)

CW for this Chapter Part: Implied Minor Character Death (King’s Child), Implied Child Abuse (from Purple’s past), Unhealthy coping mechanisms, Self-Hatred, Minor Swearing, King's Anger Issues, Poor Mental Health, Brief Descriptions of Injuries

[AO3 vers. (Full Chapter)]

(To quote myself while I wrote this, "10K+ words in and these idiots haven't even started cleaning the house yet, wtf" Also it'll be explained in Pt 3 but the food King and Purple are eating is a Filipino dish called "Lugaw" because I'm the author and if I want to give Purple Filipino traits, I will alskjdlgsgdgs /lh)

= O = o =

20 minutes later, a freshly showered King stepped into the hallway.

With a soft towel, he patted parts of his body dry as he made his way down the hall. He had to admit, the shower did wonders for him. He was clean and awake and while his muscles were still sore, it was leagues above how he felt when he first woke up. He wondered if it would be weird to thank Purple for pushing him to shower. Even if it was done in a weird and trying manner.

Speaking of Purple, King rounded the corner into the main room and spotted them rummaging around their large pink tote bag. In his absence, the purple stick had unfurled one of the blankets from last night and laid it out on the floor at the side of his bed. The various pillows were strewn on top of the bedding to act as places to sit and near the center of the arrangement were various medical supplies.

King squinted. There were rolls of bandages, a box of medical adhesives, various tubes of ointments and creams, a box of rapid cold-hot patches, and what looks like an old pink colored over-the-shoulder heating pad. Purple still had their attention focused solely on finding something in their bag and King watched as their eyes lit up as they found what they were looking for. 

With a triumphant grin, the younger stick pulled a bottle of pain killers free and nearly dropped it in surprise when they noticed King standing in the doorway.

"King!" Purple yelped. They smoothed down ruffled parts of the blanket before leaning back to sit rigidly in their spot. Silently, they placed the painkillers down near the rest of the medical supplies and gestured for him to sit.

King quirked a brow at the stick figure before making his way towards the blanket. He took a seat on one of the pillows, folding the towel in half and placing it to the side.

"Quite the spread you got here," King commented nonchalantly. Purple's eyes snapped to meet his gaze before concentrating back on their lap. After taking a moment to psych themself up, they looked up at King and squared their shoulders. King blinked as Purple spoke,

"I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to demean you. You are completely capable of taking care of yourself and it was wrong of me to have assumed you couldn't. I-"

Purple faltered. Their eyes darted to the pink tote bag to their side before returning to King's face. "I should have realized the help you needed wasn't the same as the help I'm used to giving and for that, I'm sorry."

They sucked in a breath. "If you'll still have me, I would like to keep helping you. I promise I'll improve my behavior."

With that, the younger stick figure bowed their head and trained their gaze on their hands.

A silence stretched as King stared mouth agape at the other. 

What? What was that? Why did-?

"I- You don't-" King sputtered, clenching his fist tightly together. This was NOT how he expected this conversation to go. Yes, King wanted an apology for the way Purple treated him, but not like this. He expected a stuttering apology, fast and rambling like the kind Gold would give when they racked up late fees at the library. That was normal. That was natural. King could handle that. But this? This was practiced. This was straight to the point with each word and phrase meticulously picked out to be as placating as possible. They've done this before. And he didn't know why but that thought made him uneasy. 

"Purple, kid-" Purple blinked owlishly at him. "You're okay. It's fine. I'm not mad. I promise. I just…" King paused as he tried to find the right words. He could feel the beginnings of a tension headache form as Purple stared expectantly at him.

"Look, I appreciate you trying to help me even if it's been… really weird. But I'm an adult. I don't need to be coddled," And King bit back a curse when Purple's gaze turned blank. He lifted a hand to his chest and quickly continued. "I still want you around though! It's nice having someone else here besides myself. So if you still want to help, then you can."

A second passed, then two, then three as Purple stared wide-eyed until a small grin broke out on their face. They nodded, happily clasping their hands together on their lap. They seemed relieved and King felt the corners of his own mouth turn upwards.

"To be honest," He brought a hand up to rub sheepishly at the back of his neck, slightly wincing at the strain in his shoulders. "I'm still wondering why you wanted to help me in the first place. I mean, it's not like I'm your boss anymore." 

Purple paused and tilted their head in confusion. "Why wouldn't I help you?"

"Um, because… Because I got you hurt while you were working for me?" King said slowly. The frown reformed on his face at the sight of Purple's bemused expression. It was as if the thought of not helping King had never crossed their mind.

The purple stick shrugged.

"It's okay," Their nonchalant tone made King's skin crawl. "I signed up for it. You can call it a workplace hazard."

King let out a sharp bark of laughter. The disbelief was heavy in his throat. "A workplace-? Purple no. I almost got you killed. That's not-"

He cut himself off as Purple waved a hand dismissively. 

"It's okay," Purple repeated. "Really. Don't worry about it. You came back for me, so it's okay."

And King hated the way the words died on his tongue. He wanted to ask why Purple was just okay with everything. How could they just brush the last 24 hours off? How could they just be fine with getting hurt? He wanted to ask why they were so willing to help him. He knew he didn't deserve it.

But he didn't, couldn't ask. Not when Purple was looking at him with those understanding eyes. Not when Purple said they wanted to stay and help. Not when they didn't hate him. He was afraid they'd change their mind.

So he held his tongue and let the words and questions dissolve into the air.

"Alright," King relented and Purple's grin relaxed into something more genuine. 

King averted his gaze. The kind smile Purple was giving him made his stomach curl. Or maybe it was doing that because it was already past noon and he hadn't eaten anything.

As if on cue, a loud growl emanated from his stomach. Both sticks stared wide eyed until a furious blush erupted on King's face. Purple tried to hide their giggles behind their hands.

"Well, someone's hungry," Purple teased. King groaned, burying his face in his hands in embarrassment. 

"Yeah I, uh," King coughed into his fist. "I haven't eaten yet."

"Oh! Well it's a good thing I brought food then!" The younger stick beamed at the other and patted the side of the pink tote. "Although, I think we should finish your health check first."

With a huff, King reached down into the medical pile and grabbed the painkillers. The bottle in his hand wasn't a brand he recognized. If he had to guess, it was one of the generic versions available at local pharmacies. He turned the bottle over in his hand and read the information on the back. Branded or not, ibuprofen was ibuprofen and King was in no position to complain.

Gingerly, King popped the lid open and shook two pills out onto his palm. He lifted his hand to his mouth and without hesitation, swallowed both pills dry. He grimaced at the feeling of the medication down his throat.

A strangled noise from across the blanket had King looking up into the horrified eyes of Purple. Their arm was halfway outstretched with an unopened water bottle grasped in it and their mouth hung open in shock.

King lifted an eyebrow. "What?"

"I- You," Purple sputtered. "You take your pills dry?"

"Uh, I mean yeah, sometimes." King shrugged, leaning forward to take the bottle from Purple's hand. Purple cringed.

"Aren't you worried about damaging your throat?"

King twisted the cap off of the water and took a sip before answering. "Not really. I'm pretty sturdy. It's not like a sore throat will kill me."

The younger stick didn't reply, instead their face pulled into a furrowed expression before they sighed and looked away.

King arched a brow before focusing back down at the pile. An assortment of various medical supplies stared back up at him. Some of them he could recognize from his own first aid kit, albeit his were the commercial brands, but others he couldn't place. Still, there was one he was familiar with and he reached down to pick it up.

It was bruise cream, contained in a medium size plastic squeeze tube. Judging from its broken seal and weight, it had definitely been used before. King was no stranger to this type of cream, having a bottle always stocked in the bathroom medicine cabinet, so he knew how to apply it.

Taking off the lid, he dabbed a pea sized lump on his fingers and carefully worked the cream into the tender flesh of his left cheek. Then he repeated the process, this time focusing on the underside of his jaw. Once done, he placed the tube back on the blanket and picked up the box of adhesive bandages. It came with multiple sizes in it and King picked out two bandages, one a large square and the other a longer rectangle. Peeling the backing off, he applied the square bandage over his cheek and the rectangle bandage along the underside of his jaw. King exhaled, slowly opening and closing his mouth to test his now more limited movement range.

With his face covered, the next thing was to take care of his back. He pulled the bruise cream and a roll of bandages closer to him. He was about to grab the box of cold-hot patches when Purple piped up.

"If you're going to use those patches, don't put the bruise cream on."

King stilled. "Huh?"

"Those are pain relief patches," Purple pointed towards the box that King had been reaching for. "You shouldn't mix them with any topical ointments. They contain their own mix of medication that could mess with the chemical properties of the bruise cream and either reduce the effectiveness of both items or cause a rash to form. Plus, you need dry skin in order for it to stick."

"Oh… And you know this because…?"

"Prior experience."

"Ah."

King blew a puff of air from his mouth. Glancing up, he could see Purple staring at him from across the blanket. Their eyes were slightly narrowed as they seemed to be thinking something over in their mind.

"Okay, well… Which do you think I should use then?" King asked. Purple blinked, their eyes clearing as they registered the question.

"Oh! Um, the bruise cream," They pointed down at the tube and bandages by King's lap. "You already took some painkillers so the pain-killing properties of the cold-hot patches seem kinda redundant at the moment. The bruise cream will at least provide some much needed healing for your injuries."

King contemplated Purple's explanation. It made sense. Purple sure seemed to know what they were doing when it came to medical stuff. He hummed, recalling Purple's past words. Prior experience, huh? King wondered just what type of experience they had.

The orange stick figure glanced at the other. They looked young but old enough to participate in the usual fights stick figures were known for. Although, from the week spent working with them, they never seemed "fight-inclined". Sure they could hold their own when needed but flight seemed like their go-to. Although, King supposed they didn't have to be from a fighting background to have fighting experience. His own origins as "the King" from an old abandoned flash game proved as much. Still, with all the little glimpses he's seen, King would be lying if he said he wasn't interested in Purple's past. Maybe if he played his cards right, Purple would be willing to answer some questions later.

"Alright. Fair enough," King said as he grabbed the bruise cream and popped its lid back open. He released a hiss as he worked the cream into his lower back. The muscles there were tender and King didn't even want to know how mottled his skin was from the bruises. If he had to guess, the bruises probably stretched from his tailbone to about midway up his back. Silently, he thanked the coders above that his spine didn't seem to be affected from this whole ordeal.

When he finished, he recapped the tube and picked up the gauze pads along with a roll of bandages. With how large the area felt, he figured one of the adhesive strips wouldn't cut it. Instead a large gauze pad and elastic bandages would have to do.

King grunted, the angle he held the gauze put a slight strain on his muscles. Quickly, he wrapped his lower back, breathing in a sigh of relief as the gauze stayed in place. After a few more passes around his body, he cut and tied off the end of the bandage at his side. 

Taking a big breath in, King tested the snugness of the wraps. They were a little looser than King probably needed but since they were wrapped around his stomach, he didn't want them too tight. He still needed to eat after all. Speaking of, King's stomach growled again. King sighed. He was done with his health check so the next course of action should be food.

King shifted in his seat, making a move to get up.

"Hold on," Purple's voice caused King to pause. He turned his head to stare at the younger stick whose arm was outstretched in a 'stop' motion. With that same hand, they motioned him to sit back down.

"You have another one," Purple said. "It's along your upper back and shoulders."

King frowned, brows pinched in confusion. His back and shoulders were hurting earlier but he thought that it was residue from when he crash landed on the jukebox. Most of the pain felt like it stemmed from his lower back but according to Purple, he had another injury he wasn't aware of. Sitting down, King craned his neck back to look over his shoulder at the expanse of his back he could see.

Oh.

What greeted his eyes were what looked to be pixelated burn lines creeping along his shoulders and disappearing past his line of vision towards the center of his back. The lines were a slightly deeper orange color and it formed a disjointed pattern of squares that tapered off and disappeared into the surrounding skin. Gingerly, King reached a finger to poke at the burns, hissing slightly when a hot pain flared at his touch. 

King winced. How did he miss this earlier? Did the soothing heat from the shower somehow cover up any sort of indication of this injury? Slowly, his eyes roamed over the rest of his body. Littered across the backs of his limbs were small patches of these pixel burns, although these ones were light in color and barely noticeable. It seemed like the majority of the dark burns were along his back. 

"Where did…" King's question trailed off as his mind raced to figure out what these scars were from. Luckily, he didn't need to wonder for too long because Purple had his answer.

"The staff," They said, making a sweeping motion with their hand. "The white light. It was disintegrating things. And it, well, you know what happened."

King blinked. A second passed, then two, then three. And then he brought his hands to his face and groaned.

"Cursors," King swore under his breath. He placed a hand on his forehead and groaned again. "Yeah, no. That… That makes sense."

He grit his teeth. How could he have forgotten something as crucial as getting vaporized? A dull throb pinched between his eyes at the stinging memory. King rubbed small circles into his forehead to try and relieve the oncoming tension headache. 

"-would that be alright, King? … King?"

"What?" King snapped and then immediately cringed at the loudness.The relief from the painkillers hadn't kicked in yet and the added ache of his head was making King's already short temper, even shorter. Purple, to their credit, didn't flinch at the harsh tone. Instead, they held his gaze for a second before speaking again.

"Would it be okay if I helped bandage your burns?" Purple asked. 

King did a double take, Purple's question causing all previous irritation to be replaced with confusion. Did Purple just ask if they could help bandage him? 

"What? Why?" The bewilderment was clear in his voice.

"I know you can take care of yourself, and that includes taking care of your own injuries, but," Purple brought their hand to their chest, their voice soft and steady. "Applying the burn ointment to the middle of your shoulder blades and also having to bandage it would be difficult to do by yourself."

"Not impossible," they quickly added. "But it would be difficult. If I can help in any way, then I want to. I really do."

They spoke with such sincerity that King had no doubt they were genuine. He blinked, slowly turning their gaze from Purple to look at medicine surrounding them. The younger stick had brought all of this to help him. Not only that, for the past hour, they were trying to make sure King was okay and healthy. They didn't seem like they were doing this out of spite or to get something from him. Despite all of his previous assumptions, they're doing this because they want to help him.

Oh. They actually care.

King swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in his throat.

"King? Are you okay?" Purple asked hesitantly.

King waved a hand and took a deep breath. "Yeah, I mean, yes. Yes to both. I'm okay and yes. Yes, I would like you to help me."

Purple stared silently at him before a small smile lit their face and they nodded. Without saying a word, they grabbed a small tube with a fire icon on it and shuffled forward. King could feel Purple's presence as they sat behind him and he could hear them breaking the seal off of the burn ointment. He tensed for a second as Purple placed their fingers along his shoulder blades.

The cool feeling of the ointment felt heavenly on his skin. King didn't realize how tight his upper back and shoulder were until Purple started gently applying the medicine to it. They worked silently, only speaking up to apologize whenever King would tense as they passed over a particularly tender spot. 

When the younger of the two finished, they asked King to pass them the gauze pads and roll of bandages. King reached over and placed the items into Purple's outstretched hands.

"Thank you," Purple readjusted their position behind King and started unwrapping the roll. The orange stick sat up a little straighter as they felt hands hold the gauze in place. If Purple was going through all this trouble to help him, he didn't want to accidentally mess up the bandages by slouching. 

Just like before, Purple was gentle as they wrapped the bandages around King's torso, occasionally pausing to ask if anything was too tight or uncomfortable. King shook his head. He couldn't remember the last time someone looked after him with this level of care and detail. In his own experience, he only really saw something similar when he himself would take care of any injuries Gold would accrue in their many hours of playing. 

It was… nice. A lot nicer than King expected and after a minute, he found himself relaxing under Purple's light touches. He glanced downwards to watch as purple hands passed the roll of bandages across his shoulders and chest. 

King sighed contently. 

He was about to focus his gaze elsewhere when something caught his eye. Was there something… wrong with Purple's hands? Maybe it was because their movement was messing with his vision but King could almost swear they looked… uneven. It was as if the solid color of skin that most stick figures were known for, was streaked with dark patches and lines. King frowned. He tucked his chin to his chest to get a better look, but no sooner than he did, Purple pulled away.

"Alright, I think you're all good now!" Purple announced. They pulled slightly on the bandages to check that they were secure at the back before they shuffled forward so that they and King were face to face. Again, Purple reached towards the bandages wrapped around King's chest and checked to make sure they were in place. 

"Everything looks secure," Purple stated and started retracting their hands. "If anything's too tight or uncomfortable, just let me know and I-"

"Wait-" 

Purple jolted as King caught their wrist. With wide eyes they stared at King whose gaze was instead focused on the arm held in his grasp. 

King flipped it over, his frown deepening the closer he looked down at the purple limb before him. It wasn't a trick of the light. Spiderwebbed across their palms, streaked across their wrists, and branched across their forearms, were the same pixelated mess of electrical burns that arched along his own back. The scars were slightly darker in color and blended well within the surrounding skin. If it wasn't for the fact that King was watching their hands so closely, he doubted he would have even seen it.

King bit back a curse. Of course. Of course Purple would also have these burns. They were exposed to the white light of the staff for much longer than he was and if he had burns, then it would only make sense if Purple did as well. He was so focused on his own injuries he didn't even stop to think if Purple had their own. King swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat from guilt. He should have checked on them first.

Concerned eyes trailed up Purple's arms, searching for any more injuries. There was nothing major along their biceps but then he saw it. Stretched across their chest was a burn so large, King mentally cursed himself for not noticing it sooner. The edges were lighter in color than the usual purple skin and as it went to the center of the injury, it transitioned into the same dark color of Purple's other burns. With how big and smooth the transitions between the injury and the surrounding skin were, from a distance it looked like Purple's chest just had a shadow cast on it. But up close? Although it was subtle, King could see the edges.

The guilt swirled into a dark pit in the orange stick's gut. The burns along their hand and arms were no doubt the result of getting disintegrated from the staff, King had his own set of pixel burns to prove it, but the injury to Purple's chest. That…

That was all King's doing.

-The staff buzzed with a power infinitely more alive than the command block ever felt. King floated higher, a determined smile splayed across his face. This was it. This was what he spent the last year of blood, sweat, and tears working for. He was so close. The smile on his face twitched at the edges into something more maniacal. He was going to burn everything to the ground-Something, or rather someone grabbed his staff. King snarled and stared down into the face of Purple. The younger stick looked up at him hopefully, their hands clasped around the staff. Anger rose in his chest. How dare this fool try to take what was his. How dare they try to stop him. With one hand, King pushed the purple stick figure away from the staff. A look of confusion flashed on their face before they lunged forward again. King stopped them, holding them by the head as they flailed, still trying to grab at the staff. Anger and disgust grew and with one fell swoop, he brought the staff down. Crackling black electricity connected with the younger stick's chest and Purple-

Purple yanked their hand from King's grasp. King startled, eyes blinking from the memory. The purple stick figure scrambled back and stared at him with a guarded expression. One hand was curled protectively over the other in front of their chest. 

A silence passed, then two, then three before King spoke.

"Purple…"

"I'm fine," they cut him off. "Don't worry about me."

King frowned. "You're not fine. This-" He swept a hand towards Purple for emphasis but immediately dropped it when the younger stick flinched.

"This…" He said a little softer. "This is not fine."

Purple cringed, choosing instead to stare at the floor. King continued. "Your injuries, did you know you had them?"

"Yes. I looked at them before coming here."

King's frown deepened. "Before you came here? Why haven't you taken care of them yet?"

They mumbled something that was too quiet for King to make out. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Purple's lips curled into a scowl. They spoke again, this time loud enough for King to hear. "Didn't want to waste supplies."

The orange stick shook his head, confusion clear on his face. "Waste supplies? What do you mean waste? What were you trying to save them for?"

Purple didn't say anything. Instead their eyes flickered to his face. Or more specifically, their eyes met his gaze before lowering to linger on his bandaged cheek. For a moment, King stared confused before the realization hit and he recoiled. 

"Purple," A mix of disbelief and horror in his voice. "No. I don't… I didn't need all this. You didn't need to do that."

They scoffed. "Of course I did. I'm here to help you. How am I supposed to do that if I don't have enough supplies?"

"Enough supplies? You have enough!" King said, dumbfounded. "You have enough bandages to wrap a horse!"

"You don't know that," snapped Purple. They fidgeted in their spot in clear agitation.

King threw his hands up. The frustration clear in his voice. "I can damn well guess from the pile you dumped out!"  He gestured towards Purple. "You have more than enough to look after your own injuries!"

Purple's eyes flashed. "And what if I end up using too much?"

"Then you use too much! Big deal! That's not the problem here!" King exclaimed. 

He didn't get it. How could Purple waste their time and resources on the person who quite literally was the one who caused them harm in the first place and still try to justify why they were right for ignoring their own injuries? It didn't make sense. Purple cares, it's obvious that they do, but King didn't deserve this level of dedication. Not this much. Not at the expense of Purple's own well-being.

A realization hit him like a bucket of ice water. Every action Purple had done for King up until this point, recontextualized themselves within his mind. Purple was helping him. 

Purple was only helping him.

"If you've been putting me first in everything you do…" he slowly asked. Purple stared at him wide-eyed, on edge from King's disconcerted tone. "Were you ever going to take care of yourself?"

"Yes!" they said quickly.

"When?"

"When I'm done helping you!"

"And when would that be?"

Purple's mouth shut with a click. Their face scrunched in shame as their gaze fell to the floor. Right. Of course Purple didn't know. It all depended on how fast King's injuries healed. King let out an exasperated sigh, bringing a hand to rub at his temple again.

He was no expert in mental health but even he could tell this seemingly compulsive need to help even at the expense of their own wellbeing, was probably not healthy. Unfortunately, this sort of thing was not something King wanted nor was equipped to dissect at this moment, so he mentally filed it away for later. Something he could do right now was help Purple.

"Alright. We're going to take care of your injuries," King said matter-of-factly.

Purple's head snapped up in surprise. "What? No! We don't need to-"

But King cut them off with a wave of his hand. "You said you wanted to help me? Well, you can help me by making sure you're taken care of first."

Purple grit their teeth. Conflicting emotions played on their face at the older stick's words. "King, this isn't really necessary. I'm okay-" 

"If you don't, then you can consider yourself done and you can leave."

For a second, King wanted to retract his ultimatum at Purple's horrified expression but he held firm. Was this underhanded? Yes Was this taking advantage of Purple's obsessive desire to help? Probably. But if this is what it takes to make sure Purple takes care of themself? Then so be it. If they want to be stubborn, then they'll get stubbornness back. 

Purple looked like they wanted to scream. They bit their lip, stopping themself from saying anything as numerous expressions passed across their face. Finally, a look of neutral defeat settled and they sighed. 

"Alright." Purple said quietly and they reached forward to pull the burn ointment and bandage roll onto their lap. 

A silence filled the house as King watched Purple diligently tend to their injured hands. It was methodical, almost mechanical in the way they quickly and efficiently applied ointment to the patches of pixel scars. Prior experience, indeed. 

King filed that thought away with the rest as Purple began carefully wrapping their hands. He squinted. Purple was using the same roll of bandages that King used to wrap his body. Judging by the thinness of it, it was almost out. Luckily, there were more bandage rolls set out on the blanket.

Sure enough, by the time Purple was done wrapping their hands, the roll was practically finished. Purple set the tube on the ground and King quickly snapped up another roll of bandages before they could grab it. Purple eyes blinked in confusion as they stared questioningly into orange. 

"I can help bandage your chest. You said it yourself that wrapping that area can be difficult to do on your own," King explained. Purple frowned, somewhat shocked at having their own words used against them. They didn't say anything, so King continued. "It's the least I could do since I was the one who gave you that injury."

Purple opened their mouth to protest but was cut off as King kept going. "Plus, think of it as me repaying the favor. Since you helped bandage my back earlier. It's only fair that I help bandage you too."

The younger stick didn't respond right away. Their brows scrunched while a contemplative look adorned their expression. After a second, they slowly nodded.

"Okay." 

And King let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"But before the bandages get placed," Purple interjected, they fidgeted for a second before plucking the bruise cream from the blanket. They held it out towards King. "My shoulders… I got some bruises from when my elytra was yanked. Could you…?"

King carefully took the tube from Purple's hand. "Of course. I'll get your shoulders and you can get your chest?" 

The younger stick figure nodded, reaching over to grab the burn ointment and an application pad. Then they turned so their back faced King. The orange stick shuffled closer to get a better look. Mirrored on either side of their shoulder expanse, were a cluster of bruises. King could picture where the elytra straps met skin and winced in sympathy at the force it must have taken to leave these marks. 

He worked meticulously on the shoulder muscles of Purple's back, taking extra care when applying the bruise cream. When Purple signaled they were done applying the burn ointment to their chest, King started wrapping with the gauze and bandages. It was almost nostalgic in a way. Back when Gold was younger, they'd always get into wild scrapes while playing in the backyard and he'd tend to their injuries in much the same manner. Granted, Purple was a much more behaved patient, having barely moved an inch since King started. Gold on the other hand, always had the tendency to shift around when they got too antsy. 

It wasn't until Purple gave a small stuttering gasp, did King snap out of his thoughts. Purple still had their back to him but small tremors shook their chest as they hastily brought a hand to their face.

Immediately, King released his hold and backed away. "Shit- Purple. Did I hurt you? Were the bandages too tight?"

The younger stick didn't turn around. Instead they let out a wet chuckle and used the bandage on their wrist to wipe at their eyes.

"No, they're fine. Really good even," Purple replied, voice thick with emotion. They shook their head wistfully. "I just… I almost forgot how nice it feels to have someone else take care of my injuries."

Without looking, Purple grasped the end of the bandage that had been released in King's haste, and pulled it taut over their shoulder, carefully tying it off at their bicep. Sighing once more, they stood up and stretched, slightly grimacing at the pull of the bandages. Then, Purple turned and offered a hand out to King, who sat frozen in his spot.

Purple's slightly red rimmed eyes crinkled in tired amusement. "I'm hungry. Let's go eat."

King stared dumbly at the outstretched hand. A second passed, then two, then three. He blinked slowly, his gaze moving from Purple's hand to their face and back, all the while his brain tried to catch up. Without thinking, King lifted a hand and allowed Purple to pull him up.

The smile Purple gave him was warm and thoughtful, and King tightened the grip between their hands. Purple didn't seem to mind the action if the returning squeeze was anything to go by. With their free hand, they picked up the pink tote and together, they made their way to King's kitchen. 

King's kitchen was small. Wall and base cabinets lined the back wall opposite the doorway creating a countertop. It extended towards the right until it was interrupted by a 4 burner gas stove. Next to it, the countertop continued until a standard sized refrigerator capped it off about two-thirds of the way into the room. Opposite of the back wall was a sink and dishwashing machine combo and more counter space made up of base cabinets. A microwave and toaster sat on these counters. Near the end of the room was a circular wooden table with two chairs stacked off to the side by an almost full trash can. On the far wall were two doors, one an actual door that opened into the pantry and the other, an open doorway that led into another room that held the door to the backyard. Said backyard could be seen through the window that sat opposite to the table along the back wall.

A calendar hung next to the doorway that connected the kitchen to the main room and King glanced at its messy array of crossed out days as Purple led them towards the dining table. In the time it took to get from the main room to here, King had composed himself. He had never expected to see Purple cry, even if it was just a few stray tears, and he decided that he never wanted to see that again. He filed away that thought along with the comment Purple made regarding them. 

Instead, King focused on gathering the chairs from their stacked position when Purple released their hands and veered off towards the microwave. It's been a while since King had sat at this table and even longer since a second person sat at it. About 3 or 4 months into his research, King made the decision to eat his meals out in the main room instead of in here. If asked, he would say it was for practicality. By eating his meals out in the main room, King could continue his research without interruption. Though King knew the real reason was the memories that plagued him when he sat alone at the table.

Once the chairs were set, King turned back to watch Purple. Said stick figure had placed their tote on the countertop and had pulled a medium sized plastic container from it. Popping off its lid, Purple placed it into the microwave and shut the door. The mechanical whrrrr of the machine filled the kitchen air.

"So the thing you brought," King said, catching Purple's attention. "What kind of plates do you need?"

Purple glanced at King before turning back towards the microwave. "Bowls. Oh and spoons if you got any."

King nodded and moved towards one of his upper cabinets. As he passed by his sink he cringed at the sight of it half filled with unwashed dishes. Opening the cabinet doors, he let out a sigh of relief as he spotted two clean bowls sitting stacked on the shelf. With the bowls in one hand, King used his other hand to pull open the top drawer of the base cabinet to retrieve two spoons. He placed those spoons in the bowls and briefly nodded again at Purple as he made his way back to the table. Once there, he separated the bowls and spoons out on the table and sat down.

When the microwave dinged, Purple carefully gathered the now warmed container and carried it to the table. With a spoon, they scooped out what looked to be a type of rice porridge with bits of shredded chicken out into the bowls. After filling one, they handed it off to King and poured the rest into their own.

King narrowed his eyes. While his bowl was nearly full to the top, Purple's was only about a fourth of the way filled. Silently, King pushed his bowl back towards Purple and shot them a disapproving look. The younger stick pursed their lips, face scrunching in annoyance.

Purple's mouth opened to say something, no doubt to try and justify the discrepancy but it shut at King's expectant expression. The orange stick figure pushed his bowl further across the table till it rested next to Purple's. They stared incredulously, gaze going from the bowls to King and back. In return, King just raised an eyebrow and nodded. 

After a moment, Purple let out an indignant huff and picked up King's bowl. With their spoon, they scooped bits of food into their own bowl until they were both even. They set King's bowl back down on the table and shot him a look.

"There, are you happy now?" Purple said, exasperated. 

"Very," King replied, cheerfully retrieving his bowl while Purple huffed again and sat down.

Plucking his spoon from the table, King mixed his bowl's contents. The food within was an off-white color and had a consistency a bit like thick soup. It looked similar to oatmeal but instead of oats and berries, it was made out of rice and chicken. King swirled the food one more time, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Purple was watching him, and spooned the rice porridge into his mouth.

A burst of flavor hit his tongue. The rice porridge was salty and savory, with ginger, garlic, and lemon accenting the chicken taste. Maybe it was the fact that he'd never tasted this before or maybe it was because he was already starving, but regardless, it was delicious. King's eyes widened before diving in for more.

He was only a few bites in when a muffled chuckle interrupted his flow. With a spoon raised midway to his mouth, King blinked and shot a look in the direction of the sound. Purple had a hand up to their mouth, obviously hiding their amused grin. 

Heat rushed to King's face in embarrassment. He had completely forgotten that Purple was sitting across the table. They probably thought he was an absolute pig. Hesitantly, King weathered a glance at Purple and was surprised to find the younger stick didn't look disgusted by him at all. In fact, they were staring at him with a soft expression.

A second passed, then two, then three, before King faked a cough into his fist, drawing Purple out of their thoughts.

"It's, uh, it's really good," King stammered awkwardly, holding up the bowl like he was raising a toast. Purple blinked before their face broke out into a bright smile.

"Then let's eat!" They said as they lifted their own bowl and clinked it against his.

King couldn't help but smile in return. He nodded and the two of them enjoyed their meal in a comfortable silence.

= O = o =

[assistingpaws]

Welcome to our blog! We plan to help plurals of all kinds with problems. From to questioning plurals to plurals simply seeking out advice. We have a main on here but we prefer to keep that unconnected to this blog for safety reasons! So if you believe you know our main, please refrain from saying it.

Inbox is open! (0/10)

Anon list

Byi and more under the cut

Byi

// pt: Byi //

Despite us having a dni on our main, we are deciding to mostly discard it so we can help more people out! Though there is one thing;

No radqueers are permitted to interact with this blog.

// pt: No radqueers are permitted to interact with this blog. //

We are way too uncomfortable to interact with rqs no matter what. We will not be debating on this stance. We dont want rqs here.

anyways. We do have some stances. Follow your own dni. We are Pro-Palestine and Pro-endo. Follow your own dni, I repeat.

(oh and we arent giving out our stances on anything else! as it really doesnt matter.)

Finally. 1. we are bodily a minor, please be mindful of that. And we ask if you plan to ask any question on willogenic practices, please dont. We do not know enough on willogenic systems in order to answer it properly. This doesnt mean willogenic systems cant interact, we really dont care if you do.

Edit to add on our host pet regresses so... follow ur own dni again lol

Mods + tagging system

Since we are going under codenames for this, I will list each mod and their tag under here.

Me, the mod typing this, codename is Mint! My tag is #Mints words! I am a caretaker in my collective and the main one. I will be answering general asks, and asks about roles and being a caretaker. I will also be the main one to make advice posts!

The host is codenamed dark purple, and their tag will be #darkpurple speaks! They may jump in from time to time

Mod gold is a protector/avenger. And will be using the tag #gold barks. They will likely be talking about their experances as a anger and anxiety holder. Asks about that directed to them are allowed.

Mod Navy has no known roles. Though they do act as a sourse of comfort and advice, they may mainly make advice post and help with role finding. Their tag is #Navys wisdom

And the final mod, Mod blue. They hold our more destructive urges and will likely answer asks and make post relating to it. They will try to help others who deal with similar, but will likely be paired with another mod for their own wellbeing. Their tag is #Blue splashes

#the void stares will be posts from other headmates who do not own their own tag. Thus they likely will not have one collective thing they will answer.

If you ever need to refer to us pronoun wise use either they/them, it/its, and paw/paws.

And that's it! feel free to vent (with the needed tws) to us or ask for certain mods in our asks!

[yamamuragaku]

Mofu Mofu Friends & New Song Added

It’s Gakui’s birthday! A new song, “Captivate Time”, sung by Gaku & Ryunosuke, was added to regular lives and is now playing on streaming services.

Mofu Fure: Gaku’s Birthday Room, is also running from 8/16 (Fri) 0:00 - 8/20 (Tue) 23:59. Interact with Mofu Mofu Gaku and raise the Friendship Meter to get rewards.

Level 2: Stella Stone x 5

Level 3: Stella Stone x 5

Level 4: Stella Stone x 5

Level 5: Stella Stone x 5, Mofu Fure Limited HOME Background

Level 6: Stella Stone x 5, Mofu Fure Puchinana

Level 7+: GOLD x 1000, Friend Pt x 500

[cryptidcorners]

on my knees begging for more of prince! Danforth, ;0; gnawing on the iron bars of my enclosure for part 2

Horse Riding — Prince!Derek Danforth x GN!Reader [ Part 2/? ]

Pt. I .

Description: It's been about a week since you last seen Prince Danforth, your childhood sweetheart, spill dark secrets about his House. As if you weren't worried enough, Derek reveals some life changing information — the possibility of a conspiracy between Kingdoms.

# Request: "on my knees begging for more of prince! Danforth, ;0; gnawing on the iron bars of my enclosure for part 2"

# A.N: more prince Danforth!!!!!! I'm absolutely amazed by the amount of love my writing got! thank you! also I may be posting this on AO3 ! So stay tuned :3c

Media: The Beekeeper [ AU ]

Character: Derek Danforth [ AU ]

Tags: DND/Fantasy Inspired AU, Royalty, PLOT, Lore Dumping, Friends to ? ? ?, Romantic Implications, Horse Riding, Nature Walk, Fluff, Slowburn, Childhood Friends, Character Reveals, Flirting, Catching Up, Sweet Talk + Reader is !GN.

Warnings: Mentions of War/Isolation, Conspiracy, Childhood Trauma/Abuse, Assassination, Mentions of Substance Abuse

TOS. Derek Dandorth Master List {TBW}.

It had been a fortnight since you had seen Prince Danforth. You had enjoyed your time with him more than anything, that kiss was still lingering in your mind and lightly kissed your skin with warmth. Yet, the haunting discovery that he had revealed beneath the isle of paintings detailing his ancestors had left your bones rushing cold. 

You couldn't daydream about his lips against your skin, or fingers intertwining together underneath a veil of moonlight, there was a possibility of him being mistreated — how he confessed he felt like a humming bird tethered in a gold cage with disloyal eyes around every corner — and your mind couldn't abandon the thought. It was almost feverish; it hurt to even scavenge a nightmare that raw, but you couldn't betray him that way. 

"I promise, I'll tell you everything." He said, his forehead gently brushing against your own, he was so close you could remember his breath soothing your jaw, your lips. There was something so tragically intimate a lot that moment. How Derek had so many secrets and this was one of those rare, naked occasions where he was being faithful to himself. Where he had trusted you. Alas, he bit back everything. Derek was not only afraid for himself, but for you, and you only. 

He swore under his breath with that twinkling smile that could soothe even the deadliest of vipers. Then, he had pulled away and part of you still craved that closeness, "I love you too much to let you get hurt because of my ignorance. Time will tell, just be patient." Derek's obvious attempts to shy you away from your worries didn't work.

You were still driving yourself mad thinking about him. Thinking about those secrets. Thinking about your kingdom. So many people you cared so deeply for could possibly be in danger. 

"Pardon me, Noble Talis?" your secretary tip toed across the overflow of documents and books scattered across your floors. He stiffened, clearing his throat and dove his gaze into his papers. "The Danforth House has arrived for your date? By the Weeping Woods." 

"Don't worry, I haven't forgotten." You answered as your eyes searched through what used to be your bedroom. Your treasury, statues and silk coated mattress were blooming with rogue papers. You had forgotten you had been busy these last few days researching as much as you could. With no leads, it went as frustrating as you could expect. "I'll be down in a moment," you stumbled through the floors. It was hard not to slip. "I just need to find my trousers," 

Maybe your date with Derek could give you some answers to cool whatever firey whim was dancing in your head. The Weeping Woods was apart of your land and you knew it better than anyone. It was secure, private and lush. Derek could tell you everything he needed to and if there were spies looming in Tallis, well, you had no present conclusion on what to do next, but you were sure if you got your answers everything would be easy to map. 

You prayed he wasn't hurt in any way. It'd just kill you to see him in pain, even if you hadn't seen him in a long time, you still loved him — Derek was your best friend. Hopefully you would be proven wrong. Of course he wouldn't be injured. Why would Queen Danforth sent her ill son to Tallis — one of their greatest patrons? Yes, yes. He's probably safe and sound, fresh as a daisy. 

You had rushed down the steps, formally greeting your loyal workers until you had reached the grand, pearly doors and tugged your best smile together. Once opened, the gentle morning light had calmed your nerves well enough to face the royal carriages mounted below. Your eyes had searched and searched, but no Derek. 

You began walking down, only remembering a few faces. Micky Barnett, or Sir. Barnett was Prince Danforth's second, his loyal secretary. So, you inhaled sharply. "Greetings," you bowed your head lightly, "um, where is Prince Danforth? I figured he'd be here . . . waiting for me." Disappointment clinged to your tone. Did he not want to see you personally? Or was something wrong? 

Oh Heavens, you were overthinking again. 

Micky adjusted his collar and then took out his pocket watch. Probably to distract his eyes, he felt slightly intimidated by your presence. He sucked his teeth, "Went to the stables a few minutes ago. Said he was waiting for you," 

"Ah, thank you, Sir. Barnett." Relief washed over your body language and your shoulders fell and you couldn't help but smile softly. As excitement began to rile, you bowed your head a second time and fixed your wear. Derek had flashed in your mind and it was already naming you so flimsy. How did he do that? 

"No problem, Noble Tallis." He smiled lightly. 

You didn't know Micky very well. But you knew that he and Derek were closer than anything and that they were inseparable, even when they were children. You had a few vague memories of running across the palace but they were thin in your mind. Silence began to trail and he was swallowing his breath, as if secretly begging you to leave. 

You didn't want to talk to him further anyway and you just wanted to see the Prince once again. You were eager, desperate even. 

How was he? Was his skin and hair as fair as you last saw it? Was his smile still great enough to make you fuzzy? Was he alright? 

You couldn't keep boiling yourself with these questions because you were nearing the stables and you had to keep your sight pierced. Though, Derek wouldn't be much of a challenge to find since he was always making himself stand out like a sore thumb with blinding jewelery and rich gowns. 

Your boots seeped into the mud and you strolled through the flattened yard. There was no sign of him. Though, you had noticed a horse was missing from her post. Before you could even think, the stomping of hooves began to present itself closer and closer within range. You spun around to see a tall, white coated mare flicking her tail with a sparkly silhouette perched on her sattle. 

"Beautiful weather, were having?" Derek smiled. His grip was tight on the reigns, and his cheeks reddened apologetically. "Sorry I wasn't there to greet you. I was far too educated, I mean, horses! With you!" 

"Well, hello to you too." You replied, "And it's no problem, I was taking a bit long to get downstairs anyway." 

"Oh, how come? Royal duties?" Derek tilted his head. 

Or a mountain of rubbish research flooding your room. "Yes, but it was nothing important. Nothing at all," 

He chuckled and slowly trailed behind you. You could hear his horse growing tempered at the lack that of speed, which wasn't anything out of the ordinary. The mare he has selected was Blizzard, an impatient, thrill chasing creature who was always overwhelming to handle. Though, Derek was enduring her quite fine — how curious. 

"Well, what are you waiting for? You wanna ride or what?" He challenged, his face beaming with excitement.

You had decided to your own horse, Quail, a thundering mare with a golden flease and dune-like eyes. Derek may have gotten the quickest horse, but you had the wittiest. You knew this forest and you were sure to throw him of course — and lead him far away from the palace,  where you could finally talk. 

You both had arrowed through the marshland, crushing bushes, twigs, leaping across boulders and streams. The adrenaline was running hit and sweat was pearling on your skin, which was already halting your breaths. Derek was nearing the front, "You'll need to be a lot faster if you want get the best of me." he cackled. 

"It's on, pretty boy." You teased. 

"Oh, resorting to pet names, are we?" The Prince was shining with competitiveness, his thirst for victory was nothing but blazing. He howled loudly before urging Blizzard to increase her speed. You could taste flakes of dirt hitting your face as he descended into the woodland, so you steered and rode downward. You were above Derek now, galloping quick enough to jump down and stumble back into the lead. 

"What? Where did you—" he rasped. "Oh, cheater!" 

"Not a cheater. Just smart!" you cooed. 

Laughter shot through the forest like gunfire. You felt like a kid again and for once, you weren't thinking of all the bad in the world. Just Derek Danforth. Your faces met for a few seconds and you swore he was feeling the same thing. 

There was a brook by the edge of the woodland and you were both determined to hoof it to your now titled finish line. It was neck and neck, but Quail bucked herself toward as quick as the breeze itself and came to a sharp halt at the rim of the tiny shore. Derek scrambled a few seconds after, huffing. 

"It feels nice to beat you again." You turned to see a messy Prince catching breath above a seemingly indifferent steed, "Oh, you look rough."  

"It's been a while." Derek insisted, running his hands through his blond locks. He smoothened his face, "Plus, I was just going easy . . ."

"Someone's a little sour." You snickered, basking in the crown of glory. 

"Prince Danforth is never sour." Derek protested. His tone was still soft however and he narrowed his gaze lightly across the greenery. "It's fantastic here. We don't have wild life in our House, it's mostly just stone." 

You slipped off your saddle and tied Quail to an oal tree, which acted as your post. "Well, would you like to explore? We can walk around, maybe catch up?" 

Derek glared into the apex. Then licked his bottom lip and nodded, face softening. "I'd love to." You could get lost in him for days, weeks even. 

The trees soared into the deep, blue skies and families of wildflower webbed across the thrush landscape. Sunlight was flickering through the waving tree branches and the scent of the sweet streams coarsing through the grass land and cattails was blooming in the air. 

You both began walking down the trail, Derek's hands were binded behind his back. He drank up the scenery, tone no longer holding a seductive ring, but rather something comforting and domestic. "It's been so long since I've been in Tallis. I missed it so much. Well, I missed you more." 

Your face warmed, but you couldn't fall for his charm right now. You had to ask, "Derek, about the royal ball—" 

"Before you continue." He interrupted, "I have something to show you." 

You shut your mouth and watched him dig his gloves into his pocket, taking out a thin slip of paper carefully. It was an envelope with a yellow print of a bee, but it looked like it had already been opened. 

"Derek, what is that?" 

"Read for yourself." He extended his hand and you took the page, gripping it tightly. The edges were spoiled with age but the handwriting was careful and nearly perfect. Your eyes ran across the text, you read outloud: 

 *May it please Your Majesty, it has come to my attention in the body of Talis that the public is stirring suspicion. Your patrons have been growing jaded — whispering about abandoning your allyship in return for relations with Queen Talis, along with her court — and our scouts have been following as best we can to gather as much as possible.*

 *The previous shipments mentioned in your previous encounter with Adam Clay will be returning shortly. Due to the seas opening for the other Houses our services may be sluggish.*

 *I pray our meeting under the blue moon is still in session. We've decided to take heavier precautions this time around, and our smiths have created some keys as a way to monitor members. A lot of spies have been discovered this fortnight.*

*— Best regards, General*

"General?" You echoed, "What kind of name is that?" 

Derek explained, "That's what I said! Look, it mentions an Adam Clay, my mother has been meeting him. It looks like she's involved with something. Just don't know what," he continued. "I did some research in my study. The symbol belongs to a Clan of bounty hunters, Beekeepers, they've been around for centuries now." 

This was so much to take in. "What would your mother need assassains for? She has her royal guard. You don't think she's . . . planning to use them on anyone, are you?" 

Derek was stunned and there was doubt shading in his dark eyes. His response was atypical, "I don't know, Tallis. I never expected this from her and it's making me worried. I think my subjects are spying on me, now." 

He took your hands and you traced your thumb against his fingers softly. Derek exhaled, "I trust you with this information. Your library is more bigger than mine and by now, I think my mother is ordering to destroy any books relating to it." 

You drew him close. "Derek, this is madness. We need to tell the other Houses about this and—" 

"No! No, you can't. If you do, my mother will probably send those hunters. She won't hesitate to kill people!" Derek snapped and his nails dug into your arms. "Promise me Tallis, swear to me that you won't tell anyone. I'm begging you." He shook your wrists, "Please?" his voice lowered. 

"I promise." You nodded gently. "I won't tell a soul." Derek dropped his head and his gaze was wrinkling with tears. He was rambling, "Thank you. I knew I could trust you," 

Then, he straightened himself and hummed softly. "I apologize if I got too intense, it's just been so much to hold in. It gets so overwhelming," 

You pulled him into a light embrace. If there was the possibility of war brewing, it could result in the tranquil society the Houses built to collapse into ruin. You could see blaze cutting the air, the rolls of remains and the charred bits of what used to be utopia.

 You melted into his arms to fend off the nasty wolves clawing in your mindscape, holding him tightly. You ran your fingertips across his shoulders, seeking great comfort in touching the wear he was clad in. Derek breathed into your neck and you shivered, "I hope this didn't muck up our date." 

"Not at all." You whispered, "It actually put my mind to rest." and you opened the gap between yourselves once again. You grew flustered, "And it was fun racing you and all." 

"You're acting as if it's all over." Derek said softly. "Our date is supposed to last all night isn't it, hm?" He took your hand. "Let's not let it go to waste." 

— — — 

14 days ago . . . 

His fingertips graced the edges of the envelope, eyes hawked on the golden print with a perplexed gaze. Derek was resting on the foot of his bed, palm running across the darkened monarch's pelt. He was locked within his chambers, isolated from outside theory. He didn't know why he was so fixed on the design of a silenced envelope. For some reason he couldn't open it. It felt wrong. Like some outside force was intertwined with his brain — compelling him, tempting him to shove it back into the enclosure of his cabinet — yet, he finally sucked in his nerves and tore up the flap. 

Now this was no time to think about manners. He acted as if he had lost the lion shares, feeding on scraps as his eyes ran across the page. The letters were in careful writing, yet the page was stained with age. 

*General*? Who leaves their name as *General*? An alias, perhaps? He then noticed the engraving was stamped onto the page. The same bee. 

His hands pryed into the envelope and dragged out a curious, long blue key. The same symbol on the blue stem. 

Why was his mother involved with all of this? 

Derek stuffed the key into his pocket, along with the envelope. This symbol felt familiar.

He quickly exited his bedroom, racing down the hallway and warmly greeting a few cleaners sweeping the quartz floors. Derek rarely went into the library. He already had a shelf full of heavy reads he never escaped to, the only people he figured would go inside would be Wallace or his Queenship herself. 

They were both busy tonight and if anyone was inside he'd pester them away; he was Prince after all, even if his power worked to an extent.

The trip through the labyrinth of contents was overwhelming at best. He had nothing but candlelight flickering in the darkness and even with the vague light he knew there wasn't anything about bees. 

Maybe he was working in the wrong sections. The note mentioned something about scouts, shipments and the blue moon — nearly a few twilights a way. 

War. 

Derek quickly raced through the isles with firefly light and hushed breaths, eyes flickering through large titles overhead until he found his designed genre. His hands traced through the engraved books, until he found it. The bee symbol. 

Not just one book. Nearly a dozen. How far did this history go? Whatever, he took all of them; scattering the books all across the table. He took the nearest he could see through his bubble of fire and flipped as fast as a hummingbird. Bounty hunters, assassins, advanced weaponry. They were cunning as foxes, dripped in light iron and skill. 

"Beekeepers," He whispered. "Why would you talk to my mother?" 

"You shouldn't be here." A voice commanded. Derek felt his hair stand up, but he tightened his fist and gazed behind his shoulder with nervous eyes.

Wallace Westwyld had seemingly manifested from the darkness, only now arriving into the bubble of flickering candlelight. "What are you doing, Master Danforth?" 

"Catching up on reading." He swallowed. "Just needed something to help me sleep." 

"I never took you for the historical type," Wallace's gaze didn't stir. "Regardless, you should be returning to your room. It's late," 

He wondered what Wallace was doing out so late himself. But, he couldn't harness anymore suspicion. He stood up, cleaning the sand from his eyes. "Yes, you're right. I should. Goodbye, sir." 

MWallace's gaze fell to the books scattered across the tabletop, and his face stretched out in shock. He muttered, "Oh, child. What have you gotten yourself into?"

[flemingsfreckles]

Be a Good Teammate pt.3

Jessie Fleming x USWNT!Reader (also Seattle!Reader)

Read Part 1, Part 2

Preview: You and Jessie face off in the NWSL

Warnings: very minor injury, bloody nose

WC: 3.6k

A/N: okay so I sort of lied, this was supposed to be the part where they grab dinner but then I sat down to write it and it was going to be way too long for one part, so here’s part 3. Part 4 will be the dinner, I promise.

A short day later and here you were, lined up in the tunnel, staring at the back of Nikki’s head while you shook out your legs, alternating side to side. You hated standing in the tunnel before a game, it gave you too much time to think. Thinking about all the details, all the moves, all the plays. You easily got into your own head, you worked yourself up. Even though you knew all those feelings would disappear as the game started, you couldn't shake the feelings. This time, it was especially bad, the words of your coach running through your mind. You couldn't let her down, you had promised you’d have your act together, and you did, you thought. Practice yesterday was a little rocky but you were back to playing closer to yourself, it felt comfortable again. 

You heard the noise of boots against the concrete and you saw Sinc walk up, leading the rest of her team to line up next to yours. You watched the back of the first three players walk by following in line before you recognized the back of Jessie’s head. She ends up stopping only slightly in front of you. Keeping your head forward, you let your eyes wander over to her, not wanting to make it obvious you were looking over at her to the players behind you. Looking up and down you take in her frame for the first time since in San Diego. As if she can feel your eyes burning a hole through the back of her head you see her begin to turn in your direction. Not wanting her to see that you had been watching her, you snap your head down, looking at the floor and pretending to shake out your ankle again. 

You pick your head back up but keep your eyes glued to the back of Nikki’s head. You can see in your peripheral that Jessie’s head is still turned toward you. Giving in, you turn slightly instantly making eye contact with her. The eye contact only lasts a moment as she spins back to face forward and you do the same.

Both captains begin walking forward, you follow in line through the tunnel before splitting off to each side of the pitch. You line up, stand through the national anthem, take your starting XI photo and then stand around as the captains meet with the officials.

“Are you and Jess friends again?” Jordyn asked as you both stood watching the officials talk with Sinclair and Fishlock. 

“I don’t know, we've talked a bit recently, but friends I don't know.” Yes you wanted to sit here and tell Jordyn that you were friends but you didn't know how Jessie felt about calling you friends again so you weren't going to assume you were. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason, she mentioned you talked with her after the gold cup game and then just saw you two doing weird staring in the tunnel.”

“I wasn't staring.” You try to defend yourself but Jordyn begins heading to her pitch location, you follow running to the far side of the pitch. You look across the pitch to the other side, seeing Jessie standing across from you, you should not be surprised but it just kicked in that you'd be marking her most of the game, again.

The first half of the game goes about as smooth as you could hope, you feel like yourself again playing. That isn't to say the game itself is easy, Jessie was keeping you on your toes, most of the time you were able to keep up with her, only once letting her get a perfect long pass, leading to a goal. The score was 1-0 in favor of Portland as you headed into the locker room. 

The mood of your teammates varied, some of them frustrated, some annoyed, others showing little to no emotion as you entered the locker room. You couldn't help but feel a bit out of place, you were feeling satisfied, dare you say a little proud of your performance, Portland is a good team, you were keeping up for the most part. Specifically you had been playing like you knew you could. Your teammates were spread across the locker room stretching, snacking, talking to each other, you took the break to sit down off to the side, sipping from a gatorade. Your coach came walking over, stopping in front of your cubby.

“Are you doing alright today?” She kept her voice low, out of ear shot of any of your fellow players.

“Yeah, I feel like myself again.” You're hoping she noticed as well and that she wasn't about to break the news that you'd be subbed out for the second half, a small pit of nerves starting to grow in your stomach.

“It looks like it, you're doing well, I know Fleming can be hard to mark, not much you could do on the long ball. I just still wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

“I’m good.” She doesn’t say anything else to you, turning away to go talk with the other coaches. You continue to keep to yourself, waiting for the rest of halftime to be over.

You head out on the pitch and the game starts back up again. In the same fashion that Jessie had, a couple minutes in you're able to get the ball away from her and enough clearance to send it long toward the goal, bouncing off the head of Jordyn and into the goal. You run, celebrating in the arms of Jordyn and Alana. 

The game continues on, not much excitement, no goal scoring chances being made by either team. The ball goes out off the foot of your teammate. The ball is thrown in, bouncing up off a Portland player sending it high in the air in your direction. In an attempt to knock it to a teammate you jump, Jessie having the same idea, also jumps. Her body crashes into yours, her head coming into contact with your face as you both come down.  Upon your feet coming back to the ground you drop to your knees, hand covering your nose as the pain makes your eyes begin to water. The ball no longer in your section of the field Jessie doesn't move far from you. She places her hand on your back and sends a shout to the official to get them to pause play.

“I’m so sorry.” You hear her say, you don't see her as your eyes are clamped shut in an attempt to ease the pain coming from your nose. 

You hear the whistle and before you know it the training team is kneeling next to you, trying to pull your hand off of your face. You only open your eyes when they start talking to you, asking if you're okay. You glance at your hand, seeing the trails of blood running down your palm and dripping into the grass. You’re handed a water bottle and told to take a sip, you do before spitting it out, the flavor tasting like metal. You get handed a wipe to clean up your hands, nose, lips, and chin where the blood had covered.

The training staff make you sit back on your butt as they continue to look at you. One member of the staff feels up and down your nose, he comments that it doesn't feel broken which you are grateful for, you didn't want to deal with a crooked nose or needing surgery. Rolls of gauze are shoved into your nose and an ice pack is being pushed onto your face causing more pain as they have you hold your head back but you're not going to complain. Now standing over you is Quinn, the rest of the team gathered by the bench chatting. You catch a glimpse of Jessie in the Portland huddle, her head still turned back toward you watching you be tended to. 

“Are you good to stand up?” The trainer to your right asks, she holds out more gauze to you, you take it, placing the bloodied gause from your nose into her gloved hand.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just some pain.” You stand up with the assistance of Quinn and the trainers. They hold on to you, pulling you off to the side of the pitch.

“You can’t go back in while you're actively bleeding.” 

“I know.” You roll your eyes, hating that rule right now. The pain was bad but it’s not like it was your legs or something essential to playing. You stay standing as you wait, swapping out your gauze once more, less and less blood coming out of your nose. Your team returns onto the pitch, the game resuming. It’s hard having to stand and watch, especially as your team is down a player, tied with only a few minutes to go.

Being down a player does not go in your team's favor as Portland is able to move the ball up the field, slotting it past your keeper and into the goal, taking the lead.

You watch for another two minutes before you take out the gauze in your nose, not replacing it this time as the bleeding has stopped. You turn to the trainer, letting him look at your nose one last time.

“You’re good, no more blood. You're probably going to have two black eyes when you wake up tomorrow though.” The trainer informs you as he takes the ice pack and gauze from you.

You thank him quickly before running and getting the attention of the official to confirm you could re-enter the game. She nods you on and you take off across the pitch. The game only had a few minutes left in regular play. Those minutes end and you now have 8 minutes of stoppage to play through, probably 5 of those being due to your nose. Your team tries to tie it up, having a few shots on goal but to no success as the final whistle blows. 

Instead of immediately going to tell the other team ‘good game’, you head over to the bench, grabbing another ice pack to hold to your face, your nose still throbbing. Ice pack in hand and pressed to your face you start making your way over to some of the Portland players, first seeing your fellow US teammates, then making your way to the other players, most of them asking how your nose is. You tell everyone its fine, adding that it's hopefully not broken.

Once you've talked with the majority of Portland and had your own teammates check in on you, you see Jessie standing with her fellow Canadians from both her team and yours. You haven't yet gotten to talk with Jessie, congratulate her on the assist and the well played game. Not wanting to interrupt her conversation with Quinn, Jordyn, Sinc, and Janine you just stand off to the side, trying not to make it obvious that you are waiting for her.

Jessie notices you standing alone, she excuses herself from her national teammates, stating she needs to go apologize.

“Hey.” Jessie approaches you, a sympathetic smile on her face. “How’s the nose?” She gestures to the ice pack you're holding.

“It hurts.” You state the obvious looking back at her. “They don't think it's broken though so that's good.”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.” She apologizes for the second time today.

“It's fine Jessie, seriously don't worry about it, we both went for the ball.” You know she wouldn't intentionally have hit you, even if you were no longer friends, she wasn't like that. “Now if it was broken, I’d feel different.” You joke at her.

“You’ll probably have a nice black eye or two tomorrow eh?”

“That's what I’ve been told.” You hoped that everyone's statements wouldn't be true but you knew you were likely to wake up with a shiner, feeling the under of your eyes already a bit swollen. You both stand there, letting silence creep up, not knowing what to say next. You take the ice pack off your face, holding it in your hand as it is losing its temperature. Jessie takes a sip from her water bottle, just looking at you.

“Hey are we getting a UCLA alumni jersey swap?” The silence between you is broken and you both turn to see the Thorns social media manager standing in front of you, a large camera around his neck. You look down at your jersey, checking if any blood had gotten on it earlier in the game, thankfully there isn't any. Not knowing what to say you turn back to look at Jessie.

“I mean we can, if you want?” Shrugging her shoulders as she says it, it appears she doesn’t care either way. Part of you wishes she did care, you want her to want to swap jerseys with you. 

“Why not?” Agreeing, you move one hand to the collar of your shirt, the other to your back pulling it up and over your head. Jessie does the same only she pulls hers from the bottom causing it to turn inside out. She goes to hand it to you and realizes it’s inside out, quickly taking it back as she twists it to be right.

You watch her carefully as she manipulates the fabric, you couldn’t help it. Her toned stomach and shoulders on display without her shirt, the way her forearm muscle popped out as she worked to fix the shirt. You hear the click of the camera and realize it’s going to be obvious you were staring in the photo. You glance away not needing any more evidence of your crush.

Jessie reaches out, this time with her jersey the right way and you pass her yours. You both grab the tops of them, holding them out in front of you to display each other's name and number. Once the photographer takes a few photos you turn back toward Jessie, bunching up the shirt before putting it over your head and your arms in. She does the same with your shirt. You’re hit with the smell of Jessie. Sure it was mixed with the smell of her sweat but it still smelled just like her. It reminded you of being in college, even the sweat part, you had spent plenty of time together you both drenched in sweat that it brought fond memories to the surface.

Memories of laying on the field after practice just enjoying the sun, driving together to and from practice, windows down in the car, nights spent studying in hotel room floors on away trips, all of the memories of you and her, all attached to that smell.

“Thanks girls.” The camera man turns away walking over to where Jessie's teammates were starting to make their way around and into the locker room.

“I should probably go.” Jessie turns to see her teammates heading in. 

“Yeah of course.” You debate telling her you'll see her later for your dinner plans but decide against it, not wanting to bring it up on the spot. 

You turn to head to your own locker room. You sit through a quick team meeting, which consists of a quick recap of the game, where everyone did well and where there needs to be improvement. Your coach informs you that she’s canceling practice for the following morning, wanting everyone to have the day to recover and take a break. A few of the players begin to make arrangements to travel home that night no longer having an obligation to stay in Portland for an extra day. Your roommate was one to decide to leave, meaning you'd have a quiet hotel room to come back to at the end of the night. The meeting ends and everyone scatters, some girls going to get showers, some packing up, some going to begin their recovery.

You head to the physio room, they look over your nose again, confirming that they don't believe it's broken. You get handed some pain meds, told to keep icing it on and off, and to meet back with the trainers tomorrow before you head home. You hop off the table, and grab another ice pack on your way back to the changing room.

Returning to your cubby, you start grabbing your towel and clothes to shower and change. You curse yourself earlier for wearing jeans as your pregame outfit. As you grab your clothes out of your bag you see your phone light up. Grabbing it you begin reading the texts. 

Jessie (USA): Any chance I could get a raincheck on going out?

The text from Jessie stared back at you. The excitement drains from your body, your heart feeling heavy as you read it over and over. 

Jessie (USA): Sorry to cancel our plans, just not feeling going out after the game, would much rather throw on sweats and sit on the couch.

You understood, of course you did, having just ran around with her the whole 90, you can see why she’s tired. Your legs are starting to feel tight, you always run more than usual when you’re marking Jessie who seems to easily cover 95% of the field. The weather probably didn’t help either, no one wants to get dressed up to go out after running around in the cold all afternoon. You couldn’t lie, sweatpants sounded perfect right about now. 

Jessie (USA): Can we do takeout at my place or something instead?

Relief washes over your body as you realize she still wants to see you.

Jessie (USA): Sorry for all the texts.

“Yo Fleming get your head out of your phone, I’m talking to you.” Your head snaps up at the mention of Jessie’s name. You see Jess Fishlock staring at you. You look at her confused.

“What?” You’re more responding to the fact that she just referred to you as Fleming and less asking for her to repeat what she had said to you previously. She grabs her own jersey top, giving it a tug before pointing at your chest, you connect the dots seeing why she called you what she did, you’re still wearing Jessie’s shirt.

“We’re going out, we lost but we still want to enjoy the trip, are you in?” She repeats her question to you, a couple other members of the team now watching you awaiting your response.

“No, I actually have plans.” A collection of  ‘ooo’ and a couple whistles come from your teammates around you.

“Must be a hot date with whoever she’s been texting so damn much.” Jess’ wife, Tziarra, teases.

“She was texting someone on the bus ride too, smiling at her phone and everything.” You shoot a glare at Alana who shouts out from across the dressing room. Your face is now starting to blend in to match the red thorns jersey.

“It’s not a date, I’m just catching up with Jessie.” 

“Hard to argue that it's not a date when you're wearing her jersey. Just saying.” Tziarra comments, her eyebrows raising with a hinting look. 

Not responding, you take the collar of the Thorns jersey and rip it over your head, throwing it with some force into your locker.

“Not a date, we’re not even really friends.” You emphasize throwing your hands out in display that you no longer had her shirt on. 

You grab your towel and phone, opening it to respond to Jessie.

You: Yeah that's fine, I wouldn’t want to be having to ask our server for a bag of ice every 20 minutes anyway.

You put your phone back into your cubby and head to the shower. You take a quick shower, rushing a bit, wanting to get out of the stadium and back to the hotel so you could put on sweats that you had waiting for you. You hop out, wrapping yourself in a towel and head to get changed. 

Jessie (USA): Do you still like Thai food? I know a pretty good place.

You:  Yeah that's great. We're headed back to the hotel in the next few and then I can head your way.

You put your phone back and let your towel fall, change into your clothes and then sit down waiting for the rest of your team to be ready to leave. 

It only takes a few minutes until everyone is walking out to the bus. Thinking you'll have a seat alone again you prop your legs up again. Your lounging state only lasts a minute before Fishlock is picking up your legs, throwing herself down in the seat next to you.

“Not friends and not a date huh?”

“I told you earlier no, She and I just got back into contact.” Trying your best to stop the teasing that you fear will never end from your team.

“Where are you going to dinner? Is she taking you somewhere romantic?”

“We’re not going out anywhere, we're doing takeout.” Jess lets out a laugh at your response, quickly covering her own mouth.

“So not a date, you're just going over to her place? Whatever you say.” You see her eyes roll. She leans over and whispers. “Hope you packed some cute underwear.” You hear the comment but it doesn't comprehend what she was implying. 

“She has a girlfriend.” The only words you think to respond, not having anything else to defend yourself with. You prop your legs back up on her since she was the one to move them, if she wanted to sit there she'd have to deal with it. You grab your phone seeing Jessie had sent you her address and a message to just let her know when you had arrived. You feel nerves begin to rise in your stomach, you're not sure why though, like you said, she has a girlfriend, it's not a date.

[revenant-coining]

Level0liminix

[pt: Level0liminix /end pt]

[ids: 2 rectangular flags with 7 equally-sized vertical lines. colors in this order from left to right: dull yellow, dullish yellow, light dull yellow, pale yellow, goldish yellow, gold, dark gold. in the center of the first flag is a pale yellow symbol outlined in dull yellow-to-dark gold. the symbol is a circle outline with 2 vertical lines inside of it, both starting at the bottom of the symbol. the left line ends at the top of the symbol, and the right line ends in the middle of the symbol. /end ids]

Level0liminix; a liminix gender that feels deeply & inseparably connected to Level 0 of the Backrooms. this gender may feel as though it exists within Level 0 of the Backrooms, or simply be inseparably connected to the individual’s interest in Level of the Backrooms.

etymology; level 0, liminix

for anon!

tagging; @radiomogai, @thecoffeecrew404

[id: a rosy-pink line divider. /end id]

[moseslikellamas]

♱𖣂 Redfork Menace ♱𖣂 pt.10

Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!OC

Summary - Martyn begins to suspect his family is using his sister disappearance to further a senseless war. Shanda buckles under pressure while awaiting the trip to riverrun

Warnings - fem!reader, suspense, mentions of violence, depictions of choking, adult language, period typical misogyny, advanced misogyny, condescension, adult language, complicated family dynamics, feud behavior, misplaced rage, feelings of guilt, manipulation, benjicot brainrot, Kieran Burton fancast.

Word count - 2.5k

Shanda in the gold gown the Blackwoods lend her. Listen all I’m gonna say is the advanced misogyny tag is there for a reason. And we stan Martyn, the only character with a good head on his shoulders. If you hear maniacal laughter throughout while reading, thats me I apologize.

“It was her!” Royce insisted. “She was climbing the bank of the river back to the Blackwood side!”

There were murmurs around the room and Martyn had heard enough.

“How do we know you didn’t set the fire? I didn’t see you when it started, nor to help get anyone out.” He felt a prickle of pride when Royce’s face screwed up in an expression of anger.

“That’s ridiculous.” Royce huffed.

“No more ridiculous than you accusing our sister of conspiring to burn our own people!”

“You didn’t see her! Bloody Ben was right beside her, what more proof do you need brother?”

A whole hell of a lot more, Martyn thought.

“Yeah and he’s the same man that just had her sentenced to death Royce. She was probably trying to run away!”

“Enough, both of you.”

Martyn sat at his father’s voice, his brother hesitated a moment before following suit.

“Your loyalty is touching Martyn. But we can’t so easily dispute what your brother mentions. After all, she never told me of any plan to gather Blackwood secrets.”

Martyn groaned internally, he was surrounded by idiots.

“Harold, surely you know our sister wouldn’t conspire this way.”

Harold, another of their brothers, was in his thirties but had spent many days hanging with Martyn and Shanda when they were children.

“I agree with Martyn. Shanda wouldn’t do this.”

“We should wait and judge her behavior in Riverrun.” Responded Gerolt, who was a few years older than Harold and decently liked by Martyn.

Another murmur went through the room at the suggestion.

“Has anyone heard from Normon?” His father asked.

Normon was a brother of theirs who spent his time sailing. Last Martyn heard he was in Oldtown, bothering the citadel. Normon was barred entrance since books had a tendency to go missing in his presence. Shanda had every missing tome hidden in their family library. Silence followed his father’s question.

“That’s too bad. We could use him at Riverrun.” Amos had replied at last.

“What will our defense be?” Gerolt asked the question they were all wondering about.

“We deny it of course.” Their father responded. “We’ll say Shanda is only a woman. She can’t be held responsible for this. The heat got to her fragile mind.”

Martyn knew his father did not really believe this but his hand twitched towards his sword at the words regardless. It was this backwards rhetoric that had made Shanda feel the need to leave in the first place. It made his blood boil. He knew his sister was twice as smart as more than half of this room full of blithering idiots. Said idiots all nodded at his fathers words, lapping it up.

“Then we’ll talk about the Blackwood scum sulling her. Twisting her mind.”

Martyn was wound so tightly he was likely to shatter into a million pieces listening to his father talk about his sister this way.

“Maybe we could work in what you saw Royce. Use it as proof of Blackwood influence.”

That was enough for Martyn who stood harshly shoving his chair back and leaving the room, slamming the large wooden door on his way out. How his own family could sit there scheming ways to pin the blame on Shanda was beyond him. It made him sick. He would make his own petition at the trial separately from his father and brothers. Stalking off to a guard tower, Martyn vowed not to let his sister's name go down without a fight.

***

Shanda never heard any word from her family. If they were writing to her, the Blackwoods were holding the letters back. She missed Martyn horribly and wondered tirelessly why Royce had been so upset the other night. No answers ever came to her though. Benjicot had made it his mission to try and fill the familial hole in her heart. He never left her side, she’d tried everything to get rid of him. Bringing up his responsibilities, cursing him, trying to physically remove him from the premises. But each plan failed and eventually she had just let him be.

He would sit quietly and play with the long strands of her hair while she stared listlessly out the window most of the time. The date had been set for the trial in Riverrun but it was weeks from now. The Tully’s had invited damn near the entire Riverlands to bear witness and as such wanted to give everyone a chance to arrive. Raventree hall and Stone hedge were both only a stone’s throw from Riverrun, so she just had to wait. When she grew desperate to escape his presence she would go find Alysanne. Who seemed perfectly capable of driving her nephew away with only a harsh look. He would raise his hands in surrender and blessedly leave her alone for a few hours.

It was on one of these occasions that she had a peculiar conversation with the heirs aunt.

“He doesn’t like strong women.” She’d stated, frustrated with Benjicot’s attempts to steamroll her into going on a hunt with him.

“He’s always so condescending, talking to me like I’m some stupid child! I don’t know how you can stand to be around him.”

“Benjicot doesn’t dislike strong women. He reacts well to a strong hand. You’ve seen that.” Alysanne had responded, utterly amused by her rising anger.

That had only made her angrier. Did any of the Blackwoods take anything seriously? They were always laughing, as if life were one big joke. It made Shanda yearn for a conversation with Martyn.

“He doesn’t respect them then! Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” She had stormed out of the room her and Alysanne were in and had a guard guide her back to her room.

That was two days ago and luck was on her side. As the annoying heir was still out on the hunt he’d tried to get her to accompany him on. Shanda had no patience for hunting with people she loved, she wasn’t going to have any with her enemies. While he was gone she prayed to the gods that he would snap his leg while out. Or that his horse would throw him, he’d get an arrow to the eye. It couldn’t hurt to merely suggest to the gods that he meet a terrible fate. She knew it was unlikely to happen but it made her feel better for a while. She imagined herself being freed of the growing attraction she had to him. It left a bad taste in her mouth, to imagine going back to her boring life in the library tower. If she did get out of here, she would start seriously trying to leave Stone Hedge. She would miss Martyn but maybe he could come visit her, wherever she ended up. It would get him off of guard duty at the very least.

She had made up her mind to ignore Benjicot when he returned. No matter what he did, she had to remain calm and neutral. It was obvious he enjoyed riling her up, so she needed to be unaffected. That was easier said than done but regardless of how she really felt, she had to reflect nothing on the outside. She just had to wait for the trial and then she could get her life back.

***

Benjicot had abandoned the hunt after the fourth day. He had bagged several animals, including a wolf and decided he was done. Mostly he couldn’t stop thinking about the pretty Bracken stuck inside waiting on him. She would be so bored and lonely without him and it was his job to keep her entertained. Alysanne had sent him a raven yesterday, telling him about the amusing argument she’d had with Shanda. “She thinks you’re a woman hater, nephew. Are you mistreating her? She specifically mentioned condescension, maybe try not being yourself so much.” He’d snorted at that. Then he left after sunset on the fourth day, riding back to join her. He was a wreck of dirt and grass, so he had gone to bathe first when he arrived back. It was late, the ride had taken him well over an hour. She was probably asleep by now. The thought didn’t do anything to discourage him from looking in on her.

He dressed in a loose white shirt, he left the top untied in his rush to get out. His pants were loose and breezy in the humid air. He had dismissed the guard outside first before he slid her door open carefully. He did not want to wake her if she was asleep. Entering her saw her passed out on the bed and he left the door cracked open. He picked one of the wooden chairs from the table and quietly set it beside her bed.

Her chest was rising and falling steadily, her mouth was slightly open, relaxed in the grip of sleep.

He watched her for a tender moment before he decided to wake her up. He knew he shouldn’t but who was going to stop him? Half of the castle was still out in the wilderness, drunk camped around fires under the night sky. He stroked her head, smoothing her hair back from her face. Then he smirked before placing his hand over her mouth and using his thumb and index finger pinched her nose closed, cutting off her air supply.

It didn’t take long for her crystalline eyes to fly open, darting frantically around while she flopped like a fish out of water. He let go of her nose, allowing her to suck air in but didn’t remove his hand right away.

“Shhh. Calm down, it's just me darling.” He calmly stroked her hair while he repeated soothing words to her. When her shoulders relaxed, he removed his hand from her mouth.

“Hello,” he smiled at her. “Did you miss me?” He didn’t stop petting her head and she sleepily rubbed her eyes blinking up at him.

“What are you doing back?” She asked in a small hoarse voice that sent all of the blood rushing away from his brain. Using his free hand he wove their fingers together and rubbed circles with his thumb. He needed to keep his hands busy, to stop himself from doing what he really wanted to. Which was to pull her into his lap and kiss her until she was bright red and panting against him.

“I wanted to see you.” He said simply, staring into her pretty eyes. She turned a dusty shade of pink at his words and he relished in the sight. She was less on guard here, still sleepy and cozy in bed. He tried not to think about how easy it would be to climb in there with her. Instead he turned the question back on her.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He unwound their entwined hands, bringing his hand up to gently cradle her neck. He could feel her pulse pounding under his fingertips. “Did you miss me?” He felt her heart skip a beat at his words and he’d nearly moaned out loud. The old gods had blessed him and now they were testing his resolve. How long could he wait to have her?

She answered so softly he almost hadn’t heard her.

***

Benjicots hand was around her neck, lightly holding her still while he stroked the top of her head. It was ecstasy, she was vibrating on the inside. His was the vision of an angel, decked out in white. His chest was exposed from where he had forgotten to tie his shirt closed and it had sent her spiraling. She wanted to sink her teeth into his exposed skin. She’d been secretly delighted to be woken by him, even if she was momentarily scared out of her mind. When he said he’d wanted to see her as his reason for early return, she couldn’t help the blush that spread across her face.

“Hello, are you paying attention baby? I said, ‘Did you miss me?’” He very lightly squeezed at her pulse point.

In a few minutes he’d managed to make all of the resolve she had built over the last few days crumble. It was pathetic. So pathetically she whispered her answer. “Yes, I did.”

And she had missed him. Alysanne was fine company but Shanda knew she was keeping her from her normal duties. Alysanne seemed to run the entirety of Raventree, barking orders day and night at an army of men. It was admirable, but made their hangouts a bit strained. And she could only stare out the window for so long without going insane. She’d been trapped at home but here she was a prisoner. Unable to freely go wherever she wanted.

“You’re so perfect. Bracken or not, the gods hand made you for me.”

She felt lightheaded at his words. Why couldn’t he have died out in the field? She knew scores of Bracken ancestors were cursing her through the sands of time. But they were dead and she was so, so alive.

“My aunt mentioned that you think I don’t respect women.”

She’d looked at him with her face showing the shadow of betrayal she felt at Alysanne exposing her behind her back. That was on her for trusting a Blackwood though.

“I said you don’t like strong women.” She corrected him, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Oh I like strong women fine enough. You just aren’t one.”

Her stomach dropped into her feet at his words. He squeezed her neck harder, forcing her eyes up to meet his. “You want to be. Desperately trying to fill your mother’s too big shoes.”

She would’ve slapped him if she weren’t running out of oxygen.

“But you’re just a soft, pretty, weak woman.” He eased up on her neck, letting her gasp in some air before he cut it off again. She stared into his eyes, feeling her insides coated in flames. “You need someone to take care of you, tell you what to do.”

He took his hand off of her neck, letting her breathe properly and she sucked in air greedily.

He leaned in to whisper in her ear, his hand holding her by the jaw.

“You can’t admit it to yourself, embarrassed that you aren’t up to the task. But I’m not judging you baby, I like my women soft.”

She felt humiliated and aroused. And she opened and closed her mouth, trying to think of anything to say back to him. To deny the horrible truth he’d laid bare at her feet. But her mind was blank, still reeling. He filled the silence when she failed to answer.

“You don’t have to say anything. I know it's true and so do you. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

He pulled back from where he was whispering in her ear and she knew her face would be washed blood red. She was trembling, overwhelmed. He looked at her with a soft pitying expression, like she was a wet cat who’d accidentally fallen in the pond.

“It’s late, you should go to sleep.” He didn’t rise to leave though, just went back to stroking her hair. Then he began to hum and slowly her heart stopped trying to escape her chest. She didn’t bother to remind him, he had been the one to wake her up. Instead she drifted off to sleep, her last thought being of how utterly screwed she was.

[subbanator]

I think i speak for all hockey fans when I say that mcdavid in one postseason is erasing crosby’s whole legacy “built” in 19 years. With more trophies and on pace to be the all time leader in playoff points mcdavid makes crosby look so mid and exposed him as the most overrated “great” in league history. so what if crosby has 2 gold medals and has 3 cups? a minor leaguer on the street would’ve also won cups and gold medals with superteams. crosby would NEVER score 42 pts in the playoffs, score 8 pts in 2 straight elimination games and rally his team from 3-0 down in the finals. all 87 does is choke in the playoffs after 2017 when the nhl is so much better and harder to win. 3 cups arent impressive when the pens beat rinne and jones to their “rings”. If i was crosby watching mcdavid set records in the finals i’d be worried about my fading legacy because even with 3 cups he will never be better than mcjesus. 205 playoff points? the only ones who think crosby is still an all time great after these finals are delusional pens stans. what has crosby actually achieved to make him worthy to be mentioned in the same convo as 99, 97 and 66? Don’t say 3 cups. he cant even make playoffs in 2 straight seasons in a 32 team league yikes. at least ovi could break gretzky’s all time goal record and can make playoffs with a negative goal diff. Cope harder fans. Tough times to be crosby not only is mcdavid single handedly removing him from the goat convo with the greatest playoff in history but showing 87 is overrated and got carried by a weaker league. has crosby even won a cup after being down 2-0 or 3-2?

[silver-wield]

So I played the OG game recently, and I decided to try and compliment every single person Cloud could possibly date (Tifa, Aerith, Yuffie and Barret), because I wanted to test if, somehow, Cloud would end up on the Gold Saucer date with someone else but still get the intimate version with Tifa under the Highwind. Sure enough, Aerith ended up being Cloud's date at Gold Saucer (since she starts off with the highest affection points) but I still got the high affection version of Cloud x Tifa under the Highwind.

It was so confusing. I thought "nah if I got the high affection version with Tifa under the Highwind, then I should've gotten Tifa as the Gold Saucer date earlier."

I think Remake and Rebirth did the affection mechanics better. Because there, I also tested if, somehow, you could compliment, or do sidequests with, every single person Cloud could possibly date, and I still ended up having Tifa's Resolution in Remake and Tifa as my date in Rebirth — and yes, I got the high affection version of the date where they finally kissed (since, even if you do get Tifa as your date, if your affinity is somehow still not high enough, they still hug but they don't kiss).

What do you think about the date/affection mechanics between the OG game and Remake/Rebirth?

Nomura already said back in 97 that Tifa's the story path, so her GS date is the main and the others are for replay value.

Tbh the way the pts tally is hard to track. I did a playthrough of OG aiming at getting equal pts for Tifa and Aerith, because it's literally impossible to get everyone at equal values because of how each option affects outcomes, but those two it's doable. I got Tifa's date, but tbph the math was annoying and having to check the date mechanics and pick answers according to how it added up made for some awkward AF scenes that felt so ooc.

Remake's resolutions are based on the ch3 and 8 sidequests. There's 6 in each chapter and if you do them all both Tifa and the other one have a total of 12 PTS by the sewer where you get 1 pt for whoever you choose as a tie breaker. If you have less than 5 PTS by that point then you get Barret's resolution.

It's easy to follow and execute for the dressed to the nines trophy because you gotta do 0-2, 3-5 or 6 sidequests to get Aerith's different dresses at wall market, where with Tifa you just do all 6 and make a different choice during alone at last.

Rebirth is anxiety inducing, almost like they wanted you to feel how Cloud feels that moment before you open the door to see who's waiting for you, so all you get first playthrough is the colour wheel that you can barely see because it's frigging tiny. You have to hope and pray you get the person Cloud likes and either laugh it off or pull a face and restart when you don't. Every choice is a dice roll of wondering did you pick the right thing to say. I guess like RL when you're with the person you like and hoping you don't sound like a moron every time you talk. It did make that first playthrough a lot less fun because you had to not do sidequests or certain things to make sure the person you wanted on the date would be the person on the date. Once the system unlocked and let us choose whoever it became more fun, but I don't like how the sidequests are tied to the date pts. Tbh because of all the ltd bs it made it unenjoyable and by the time you get the date you're on the backend of the game and there's no time to relax and enjoy anything else in it because you're heading to the temple and then the worst 23m of everybody's life with that cringe af nightmare date that was the biggest mistake they added to the game.

Tldr: thanks I (mostly) hate it.