#honestly part of the reason why the bay ending is so difficult

[asyipyip]

replaying life is strange and really being careful to do EVERYTHING is making it hard knowing im inevitablity going to choose chloe

bc like ive made friends with EVERYONE i saved kate ive warned alyssa every time i got the good ending with frank ive been kind to victoria and brooke and dana and taylor and daniel

its a lot harder to choose chloe when you go through the game making friends with everyone you talk to

[lululawrence]

Can u please be nicer on ao3? Maybe you should try answering people's comments

when i read the first line i was honestly flabbergasted and wracking my brain trying to figure out when in the world i wasn't nice on ao3 ever. because i honestly truly try to be nice to everyone always, even when i'm angry or frustrated or people are going after those i love and want to protect. if there was a time i WASN'T nice on ao3, i wondered if it was maybe because my comment had been misunderstood or someone saw me razzing an author i'm good friends with and they didn't get that we are close and i said what i did with so much love and appreciation, you know? like what??? did i do???

but then i read your second line. and please forgive me if i come off as rude in my response to this, because honestly i'm in a pretty bad spot mentally and emotionally in general right now, but PARTICULARLY today, and this ask triggered an anxiety response in me. so. i'm trying really hard to word this in a way to educate without being condescending or mean, but i might not succeed.

firstly, thank you for your comments i'm assuming you've left. i'm also assuming they were nice comments, in which case extra thanks. i'm sure i'll send you effusive responses on ao3 when the time comes.

secondly, please understand that sending an ask like this, on anonymous no less, is incredibly entitled. writing is not my profession, i receive no compensation for my works that i post for free online, and as a part of that it is not required of me to respond. i do my very best to reply to every comment i receive, but it is not always in a timely manner, because i have other priorities in my life. all of which leads us to my third point, which is:

writers do not owe you a reply to your comments. end of. there are no other qualifications or quantifying modifiers to be added to the statement. is it nice to be acknowledged and know your comment was seen? sure. but do they OWE you one? hell no.

in fact, i'd like to offer you a suggestion. a way of tweaking your thinking about the comments you leave on fics. instead of looking at comments you leave as being something that deserves a reply from the author, think of your comments as your way of paying the author for the gift of their time and talents that they have shared with you by posting their fic. that's how i think of the comments i leave for authors. i'm giving them my thanks for the words they've shared! i want to help THEM feel as amazing as they have made ME feel when i read their fic. in fact, my hope isn't necessarily a response from them, but instead my hope is THE GIFT OF THEM SHARING MORE FIC WITH ME. i'm a selfish bitch in that way and i always want all the fic to read. i never want that well to go dry. one way i can ensure that doesn't happen is by supporting authors and being kind to them and spreading all the love and excitement i can about their writing in the hopes that my words will inspire them to share more.

because whether they reply or not, i GUARANTEE they are seeing your comments. i PROMISE they are. and for all you know, your comment might be the one that keeps them writing even when their words aren't coming easily or when they are tempted to give up.

but, again, please remember that no matter what, these authors (including me) don't actually owe you anything.

the rest of this is going under a cut, because honestly my reply is already far too long and i have a LOT more to say now that you've gotten me started.

now, all of this in mind, i'll explain to you why i'm not great with keeping up with comments made on my fics the last couple of years. i don't owe you this explanation any more than i owe you a response to your comments, and i'm honestly not sure you deserve this explanation either, but i'll still offer it anyway. it'll help me feel better knowing i at least put this out there, whether you care or not, mainly because if i don't do that it will cause me greater anxiety having you possibly think i am not responding to people because i feel all high and mighty or that i think i'm better than the comments or whatever the fuck kind of motivation you're attributing to me to see my lack of a response as something "not nice" towards the commenters.

i'm not sure if you've noticed, but i put out a lot of fic. like a lot. a lot of words and shit. i love writing, it's often my therapy and a way for me to help keep my anxiety and depression and ptsd at bay.

now, more personal shit for you, i've got three kids ages 9 and under. the oldest has adhd which we have yet to find a med for that helps to the extent she needs without side effects that aren't healthy for her to continue with, she also has anxiety, AND she's extremely gifted and starting a new program at a new school, all in the midst of a pandemic. and all of those situations exacerbate her anxiety! huzzah! she's also dealing with the beginning of her tween growing up shit, which is great fun because it means where she used to be pretty damn understanding of her younger brother, she is finding it much more difficult to. because the second oldest? he's autistic with some pretty significant gross motor, speech, and socialization delays that have only been exacerbated because of the previously mentioned pandemic. PLUS he transitioned from his special needs preschool to a fully integrated elementary school for kindergarten last year and then had to deal with all the ups and downs of the switch from e-learning to hybrid to all in schooling when everything in him screams for a normal schedule he can rely on to keep his own anxieties and fears and struggles at their minimum. and that youngest child? he was born in january of last year. he STILL barely leaves the house and has only met other children in close range a couple of times because, once again, pandemic!

add onto all of this my own mental health issues, the fact that my husband ALSO battles major clinical depression, adhd, and anxiety, AND we live with my parents who have their own health issues, both mental and physical. i run the home for our house of seven. i keep this place functioning, fed, clothed, clean, and everywhere we need to be for all of our five million appointments every. fucking. day. there is a REASON i've been borderline burnt out for the last fucking year and a half.

now, for fun, i have fandom shit. i love it here, even if it is a dumpster fire on the best of days, and getting to be a part of the writing community is so very lovely. i adore it. honestly, it's because of those friendships i've built with other writers that i have been able to keep writing and have found just how helpful it can be for my mental health. but i'm REALLY. INCREDIBLY. BUSY. i hardly have time to get on tumblr for just a quick swipe through my dash most days. i put off asks so long i forget i have them. i don't have the mental and emotional capacity to talk to people on here or interact fully a lot of the time. but i do my best to do so and be kind while i'm at it even when i don't want to be.

then, on top of that? i also run fic fests like @wordplayfics and help friends run their own. because not only am i a writer, i'm a reader. i LOVE fic. fic has saved me soooooo many times over the past seven years that i've been here. i want to do what i can to support other writers the best way i can, which is to provide a space for them to create their works that welcomes and helps promote them, but also by doing my monthly fic lists and pocast highlighting what i've been able to read, reblogging their fic posts, and then commenting and kudosing their fics too.

sometimes i get really fucking down on myself because i'm so behind on replying to comments, but my brain is very much a "if you start this, you have to finish it" kind of a brain, and i feel even WORSE sometimes if i reply to comments on some fics and not all of them. but i do my best and reply when i can. i was actually really fucking proud of myself because i had a couple days to myself in june, and i spent hours replying to comments on 20 of my fics. when you have almost 150 fics (i think? i don't even know how many fics i've posted by now), that is only scratching the surface. but i tried and i was so so happy i did that many fics at once. it's exhausting, though, and takes a lot of spoons for me to reply to them in mass like that plus time consuming. so i tried to be happy with those 20 fics and the comments i responded to there and told myself that when i ha a moment to breathe, i'd go and work on replying to some more.

but see, that again causes anxiety and guilt. because i haven't replied to all of them. and that anxiety and guilt can cause me to put it off further OR to put off important things like feeding my children or getting sleep in order to finish it, so i have to make myself put things into perspective and ensure i'm doing the important things, like taking care of myself and my family, first.

and then, i have a moment where i CAN go ahead and reply to comments... but i also have MANY fics that are on deadline and i actually have a schedule. a SCHEDULE. for when i'm going to focus on which fics. i can spell it out for you if you really want. i made it back in APRIL to make sure i didn't sign up for too many fic fests because there are so many going on right now that i want to participate in, but i know i can't do all of them so i had to pick and choose. and when you are SO overscheduled and busy that back in APRIL you had to figure out what fics you would focus on at what time to ensure you got everything written when you wanted to through THE END OF THE YEAR, more choices have to be made.

for example. my writing time and time for myself came down to only one evening a week for ALL fandom things i'm doing and a part of right now once the kids were out of school for the summer. it quickly became apparent that for my own self care i needed more time, so i worked with my husband to find two other days i could carve out at least 30-60 minutes to myself to write every week. and i did. but if i'm already only getting that much time and have committed to those fics and fests and things that you're running etc, you have to choose am i going to use this time to try to squeeze in some comment replies? or am i going to write? and i choose to write. simple as that.

so yeah. see it as selfish if you want. see it as mean. you can honestly see it as whatever the fuck you want, but for me? i know that as soon as i possibly can and i can breathe freely for once and not feel like i am constantly drowning in my day to day life and am doing pretty well when it comes to my fic deadlines and getting started on those christmas cards i'm once again going to be making by hand for everyone on tumblr who chooses to sign up for one this year out of the KINDNESS of my heart and the love i really do feel for so many of you, then i promise i'll be on ao3 catching up and commenting. my friends laugh and make fun of me for it sometimes, because they will sometimes get 10-12 replies to their comments in a single day. they know that's how i work. i WILL reply to every single comment i get, no matter how old it is. but for the love of all that is holy, do NOT add to the anxiety and guilt i already feel over it. the only place that will get you is the ask/comment getting deleted if it's a good day, a fucking long rant like this one if it's not, and a block if it's a REALLY bad day.

if you're asking me to be nice on ao3, then i ask in return that you also be nice by not demanding things of people that they are not in any way obligated to give.

[myhockeyworld87]

Under My Skin - Matthew Tkachuk

Word Count: 3,644

POV: Reader

Warnings: Language, Smut, NSFW

Summary: Matthew can be a pest but what happens when your ex, Auston Matthews get under his skin.

Notes: So I’m having a sad bitch moment and thought, why not post this. I finally broke down and wrote for this boy. Who knows if it’ll happen again...haha! At any rate hope you guys enjoy. Happy Reading!

Matthew first met you over a year ago when you’d moved to Calgary for work. You had just finished your degree and a job opportunity had landed you in the same city where he was playing. You’d been out at the bar with some co-workers and had caught his eye immediately. You were everything that Matthew was looking for in a woman, smart, funny, incredibly gorgeous, with a charm that seemed to draw everyone around you in. You were like a magnet and Matthew couldn’t resist your pull.

 That first night he’d barely been able to talk to you. You’d been besotted with people left and right, and it seemed as though every time Matthew worked up the courage to speak with you, you would get pulled away. Matthew finally ran into you on the way to the restroom. Like, literally ran into you. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Matthew apologized steadying you with a hand on your waist. His hand lingered a little longer than necessary but you weren’t complaining.

 “It’s ok I wasn’t paying attention.” You held up your phone in defense. You’d been so distracted by a text, that you really weren’t watching where you were going. “Did you ever have someone text you that you hoped you’d never hear from again?”

 It was an interesting introduction to a conversation but then Matthew would take any opportunity he could get to speak to you. “Actually, yes.”

 “It’s so annoying, right?”

 “Well, there is a way to solve that problem.”

 Your eyes held his with rapt attention, and Matthew could tell you were clinging to his every word. It was then that it struck him that he never wanted that look to fade from your face. “How?”

 “Come have a drink with me and forgot about whoever it is on that phone.” You smiled. It was a bright, brilliant thing of beauty that Matthew swore could light up the night sky on its darkest days. He was sold right then and there, and with just that simple gesture you had no idea that you’d swooped in and stolen his heart that night.

 You forgot about that text message fairly quickly and just settled into an easy conversation with Matthew. The night flew by and before you knew it, your co-workers were calling it a night and you were all heading home. Matthew asked for your number which you gave in hopes that he would call you soon. Little did you know that after you left, Matthew debated with himself on how long to wait to text you. Every unsaid rule in the code of dating said to wait for at least forty-eight to seventy-two hours before making a move, but Matthew was never one to follow convention. As he lay in bed, he decided to send you a quick message.

 Had a great time tonight.

 It was short and to the point, and Matthew figured if you answered then he would ask you out again. Unfortunately, for Matthew, he wasn’t the only one texting you as you crawled into bed after taking off all your makeup. You were just getting ready to reply to Matthew when another text came in. It was the fourth of the night from the same person that had messaged you before, Auston Matthews.

 You hadn’t spoken to him in months, back when you were in Toronto, and you didn’t plan on speaking to him now, though he seemed to be trying his hardest to get your attention, just as he had been for the last couple of months. Your relationship with Auston had been nothing short of toxic. Oh sure, at first it was all hearts and roses in the beginning. Auston swept you off your feet with that charming smile of his, but then you were young and the flashy NHLer said all the right things, at first.

 You weren’t normally one to tumble into bed right after the first date, though that’s what happened with Auston. He made it seem like you were the only one, but after dating him for only four months you’d found out that wasn’t true. Oh, he tried to brush it off, make it seem like he wasn’t cheating. That the panties you’d found lying tucked between the nightstand and the bed were some old fling and not some random hookup he’d brought home. You wanted to believe him and so you let your heart overpower your head and stayed with him until you’d literally walked in on him in bed with another woman. There was no talking his way out of that one.

 It was an easy decision to break things off with him, though he kept trying to win you back. You were good for his image and he thought that he could keep you happy while he had some fun on the side. The only thing was you didn’t want him back, even though his friends tried to helped his cause. That’s when you decided to take the job in Calgary. It was an easy decision six months ago. Which is part of the reason it surprised you when he texted tonight. He was in Calgary for a game and wanted to talk. You’d honestly were debating seeing him when you’d run into Matthew.

 Matthew, you sighed. His curly hair and shaved sides gave off this bad boy vibe, but as you sat there and talked to him, you’d realized he had to be one of the sweetest men out there. You hadn’t realized at first who he actually was. Auston had turned you off to the NHL scene altogether, so you no longer paid attention to the games, even if hockey was Canada’s major sport. Honestly, you wish you didn’t know he was in the NHL. It was part of the reason you were debating about answering him. Maybe you would just sleep on it and decide in the morning.

 Meanwhile, Matthew was having a mild panic attack. He told himself that maybe you lived close to the bar and had already fallen asleep before you got his text, or that you’d turned off your phone the minute you got home. He constantly kept checking his, looking for those three little dots letting him know that you were sending something back. It was torturous.

 You laid there all of twenty minutes before you decided that you couldn’t resist the curly-haired man that had captured your attention tonight. Grabbing your phone, you shot off a quick, I did too. You typed and erased it three times, wondering if you should add more before finally pressing the send button. There it was done, if he said something back, you’d go from there. Fifteen seconds later, you knew you were in trouble.

 Maybe we could do it again sometime?

 Matthew was sweating as he hit send. He’d never been this nervous before about a woman. They either liked him or didn’t, but you, you were different. He knew that from the moment he saw you. It was even more prevalent now after he’d spent most of the night with you.

 I’d like that.

 Was your simple reply back. One that had Matthew ready to jump up and out of bed with excitement. And so the texting went on for the next ten minutes until he finally ended up calling you. The two of you talked for over an hour, almost as if you’d known each other all your lives, and you completely forgot about the texts from Auston.

 Matthew took you out three days later to an exclusive restaurant in the city. This time you told yourself you’d not make the same mistake you’d made with Auston. So, when the night drew to a close, Matthew drove you to your apartment then very properly walked you to the door and only kissed you on the cheek. It wasn’t what you expected. You’d thought he’d go for more, but Matthew wanted to do things right. He knew you were special and he wasn’t going to mess things up by sleeping with you on night one. He was in this for the long run.

 That was over a year ago. Sure, it had been difficult at first to give him your complete trust, but Matthew had earned it and over time you knew that although he may be a pest on the ice, he was anything but that in your personal life. Now the two of you shared a home and were on your way to making a life together.

 You’d kept your relationship on the down-low, staying off of all forms of social media to keep the wolves at bay. Which meant that no one, including Auston, knew that you and Matthew were dating. That was until he and everyone else saw you in the background of Taryn’s video for Brady’s twenty-first birthday. The picture highlighted Brady but behind him, there was Matthew nibbling on your neck and ear. Fans picked up on it right away, wondering who you were and Matthew decided he was tired of hiding the two of you. A week later he was posting a picture of the two of you holding hands on your way back to Calgary.

 That was dozens of posts and months ago. Your life with Matthew was nothing short of amazing, until the Flames played the Leafs. Matthew was in Toronto while you stayed back in Calgary for work. It was an early game and you joined the other wives and significant others in a small little watch party. Drinks were flowing freely, so you really didn’t catch the exchange between Matthew and Auston in warmups.

 Matthew was minding his own business as he stretched near the centerline. That’s when Auston started with the little jabs. “Nice little piece of ass you picked up Tkachuk.” Matthew was used to guys talking shit about all kinds of things on the ice, though normally it was about him being a dirty player or how Brady was the better Tkachuk on the ice; all that shit he could handle. He wasn’t used to someone taking stabs at you.

 “Shut the fuck up Matthews,” he replied then skated away. If Auston was looking for a fight, he’d get one if he kept up this banter, but not until the game started.

 It wasn’t until the end of the first that Auston got a chance to chirp Matthew again. “Tell me, Tkachuk, does (Y/N) still make the same pretty moans…”

 “Finish that and you’ll regret it,” Matthew told him. It was the only warning Matthew was going to give. Of course, Matthew knew that you’d dated someone in the hockey world and that he’d been a verifiable asshole. He’d never pressed the issue too much as he was trying to turn that stigma about hockey players around. He never liked Auston, he was always cordial to him in non-ice settings but now that he knew he was the cheating bastard who basically used you; he liked him less.

 Play resumed before anything else could happen and Matthew was sure to get in a few good checks in before heading back for the first intermission. When he was back on the ice for the second Auston picked up right where they had left off. “So, you like my sloppy seconds, Tkachuk?” Matthew saw red at the insult, and before he knew what he was doing he dropped his gloves and hit Auston. Inwardly, you cringed at the fight, not wanting to let on to the other girls that you had an idea what the exchange was about. Auston went down easy, with Matthew barely touching him, and so off the penalty box he went, while the Leafs went on the power play. You could see him just sitting there stewing, though you weren’t sure if he was mad at himself for letting Auston get to him or mad at you.

 The game ended up tied in the third, and little did you know that Auston took the opportunity to get a few more digs into Matthew. “Does she get as wet for as she did for me, or do you have to work for it?” Johnny had to hold him back from leveling him after that, but Auston didn’t let up. “She was such a fucking slut for me in bed. You know I fucked every hole…” That’s all he got out before going down hard as Matthew planted a right hook to his jaw. But Matthew wasn’t done and went after Auston as he lay on the ice. Matthew was ejected from the game and the Leafs scored on the power play.

 There was no interview after the game with Matthew, so you had no idea what he was feeling or how pissed he was. As soon as you got home, you tried to call him but it went straight to voicemail. You tried to tell yourself it didn’t mean anything that maybe he never turned his phone back on after the game or maybe they were already on the flight back to Calgary, as the team played at home the following day, but you just weren’t sure. So, you laid in the king-size bed you shared with Matthew, wrapped up in your favorite old t-shirt of his, simply staring up at the ceiling.

 At some point, you must have fallen asleep, for you didn’t hear the door open or Matthew dropping his bag like you usually did. It wasn’t until he crept into bed that you finally knew he was home. He was laying on his back, hands behind his head when you finally rolled over letting him know you were awake. You’d thought about what to say to him before falling asleep but waited for him to say something to you. When he didn’t you simply whispered, “If you want me to go I will.”

 “Go?” Matthew questioned now rolling on to his side so he could see you. “Why would I want you to leave?”

 “I never wanted to be a problem for you, Matthew, especially not with other players.” It was part of the reason you’d never told him that you’d dated Auston, though you should’ve known that Auston couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

 You went to say more, but Matthew stopped you. “You’re not the problem (Y/N). You could never be one.” His fingers ran up and down your arms lightly, just caressing your skin. “I love you, baby.”

 “I love you too.” His lips found yours then, and you melted into the feel of him, savoring how his body started to relax against you.

 “Auston’s an asshole.” Matthew finally said, when the two of you broke apart.

 “Do I even want to know what he said?”

 “Just shit to get me riled up, and it worked.” Your one hand went to the back of his neck, massaging the knotted muscles there. “I’m not stupid. I realize what probably happened between the two of you. I just don’t like hearing it.”

 “We both have pasts, Matthew. We can’t change that, but you’re my future.”

 He gave you a real quick peck to your lips. “And you’re mine. At least I don’t have to deal with him for a couple weeks.”

 You pushed him onto his back before straddling his hips. “Don’t let him get under your skin, babe. When he starts to say something…” you looked him right in the eyes. “And you know he will. Just remind him how you’re the only one I want with me.” You flexed your hips before running your hands up his bare chest. “And in me.” Matthew’s hands went to your waist, where he played with the band of lace on your panties. “You’re more to me than he’ll ever be. Both here,” you taped your heart and then his. “And here.” Lifting your hips, you took your hand and cupped the length of him. His cock instantly hardened under your touch.

 Your words spurred Matthew into action, for the next thing you knew he was ripping your panties, before shimming out of his boxers. His fingers went to your folds, where he found you ready for him. “Fuck you’re so wet.”

 “Only for you Matthew. Only for you.” It was extra reassurance that you knew Matthew needed and tonight you’d give him as many as he needed. He guided your hips down onto his cock and you sighed out with pleasure as he filled you like no one else ever had.

 As you grabbed the hem of your t-shirt Matthew whispered harshly, “Leave it on.” It was one of his Flames shirts; one that had both his name and number on the back. Leaning down you kissed him long and hard, before starting to ride him. It was slow at first, a pace meant to build you both up but not push you over the edge. His hands were everywhere, under your shirt caressing your breasts, wandering down your back to cup your ass, and moving up and down your thighs to quicken your speed.

 Finally, he couldn’t take it any longer and he flipped your bodies so that he loomed over top of you. His thrusts were deep and hard, almost punishing if your body hadn’t wanted him so bad. “You belong to me.” He said as he flexed into you, pushing you up against the headboard.

 “Yes, baby. Only you.”

 “Who?” He asked again and you realized that he was not in the mood to hear any pet names.

 “You, Matthew, you,” you answered knowing that he owned you both body and soul, just as you owned him.

 “That’s right, baby.” Matthew's thrusts were deep and sure, as he knew what would bring you pleasure, and with a few more flexes of his hips, he sent you spiraling out of control, screaming his name.

 “MMMAAATTTTTTTTTTHHHHEEEEEWWW.”

 That was all he needed to catch his high and follow you down, your name on his lips. He rolled onto his side taking you with him; your breaths mingling together as you both calmed. Your nails skimmed down his spine aimless, something you tended to do after sex. Matthew always said he loved the continued intimacy it brought, and tonight it felt like you both needed that. His lips found yours, the kiss loving and tender. “I love you, (Y/N),” Matthew whispered while brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “And I promise, I won’t let Auston get to me next time.”

 “Good, because you’re the only man I love Matthew, and the team doesn’t need you getting ejected from games because of me.”

 “It won’t happen again.” You truly hoped that it wouldn’t but with Matthew’s temper you never knew.

 It was a little over two weeks later that the Flames were taking on the Leafs, this time at the Saddledome, where you were in attendance. Admittedly, you were a bit nervous on the inside as to what would happen between the love of your life and the once lowlife that you'd briefly called boyfriend. You tried to shake off your nerves with idle chatter with some of the girls, but your eyes always seemed to drift back to where Matthew and Auston were on the ice.

 Matthew for his part stayed away from center ice for warmups, just like he told you he would. It wasn’t until the second period after a blown whistle that Auston finally decided to poke at him. “How’s that girlfriend Tkachuk? You know if I told her I wanted her back she’d leave you in a second.”

 “I doubt that Matthews. She told me you couldn't satisfy her in the bedroom. Something about cumming too soon.” Anger started to radiate across Auston’s face. “You should see a doctor about that.” Matthew skated away, completely ignoring anything Auston would be able to say back.

 The game was tied late in the third once again when Auston tried to rile Matthew up again. Considering he had two assists you understood why they wanted your boyfriend out of the game. “It wasn’t me who had the problem Tkachuk, (Y/N)’s pussy was wider than the Grand Canyon.”

 “Hmm,” Matthew taunted back. “Must be your small pencil dick, because she’s so tight it’s like a vice-grip around me.” Auston took offense and cross-checked Matthew into the boards right as the play began, earning him two minutes in the penalty box. Matthew laughed at him as the ref took him over. Auston wasn’t there for long, as Matthew scored the game-winning goal forty-some seconds into the penalty. You jumped up out of your seat with the rest of the girls cheering and screaming.

 Even though they pulled the goalie, the Leafs couldn’t seem to find the back of the net before the buzzer sounded ending the game. You made your way down to wait outside the tunnel with the rest of the significant others. Most everyone was gone before Matthew finally came out, scooping you up in his arms. “Did you see that baby?”

 “I saw Matty,” you told him, kissing him on the lips. “That goal was impressive.”

 He finally set you back down on your feet. “No babe, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t let him get to me.”

 “Yeah, I saw that too. I’m so proud of you.”

 “Well, he can’t get under my skin about you, when I get to be all over yours.” His hands slid under your sweater and inside your jeans to cup your ass. “Speaking of your skin…let’s go home so I can get you out of all these clothes and see you.”

 You kissed him, long and languidly, before pulling back. “I like that idea. I like it a lot.” The two of you left the arena hands interlaced just as your bodies would be as soon as you got home.  

.

[v4mptsuki]

tutoring (k. tsukishima x reader)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

tsukishima was always an observer. he liked to analyze people, understand them. it was almost a hobby of his. especially when the people around him were intriguing. such as the strange girl who was in almost all his classes. he knew she had to have been smart, considering she was taking the same classes as him, but it never seemed like she tried very hard.

she would walk into class just as the bell rang, take a seat near the back, and zone out all period. he barely ever saw her take notes. it drove tsukishima insane. how had she not dropped down classes yet? so naturally, he did a bit more observing. the next time the teacher passed out test grades, he subtly peeked at hers. infuriatingly enough, she had gotten a better grade than him. how in the world did she manage that when she barely paid attention?

his curiosity led tsukishima to observing her outside of class too. he would find her in the hallways, and at lunch, and walking into school during the mornings. she seemed to have a group of friends, but through his observations he deduced she was more of a tag-a-long to the group. he could see it in the way she would be rambling to the girl next to her at their lunch table, before being brushed off in favor of the others. honestly with friends like those she'd be better off sitting alone.

it was only a matter of time before tsukishima and her were paired up on a project. 

it was science, and the teacher announced they'd be doing partner labs. a week long project that involved experiments outside of school, and a big poster board presentation at the end. tsukishima wasn't worried about it, until he was paired with her. there was no way tsukishima would stand for her leaving this project in his hands to complete.

he walked over to her desk when the teacher told them to get started, and sat down in the now empty seat next to her's. her eyes were trained on her phone as she scrolled through social media, and tsukishima was already envisioning asking the teacher for a new partner. it was like she didn't even notice him sit down. tsukishima cleared his throat, causing her eyes to glance up at him.

"yeah?" she asked, sounding quite bored.

"we're partners," tsukishima replied, his eyes still locked with hers.

she nodded and clicked her phone off before twisting a bit in her seat so she was facing him.

"i'm y/n, you're tsukishima right?"

so she knew who he was. tsukishima was a bit surprised, since he'd doubted she paid much attention to anyone in their classes. he nodded though, and she nodded back once.

that was the start of tsukishima and y/n's unlikely friendship. they worked everyday after school, usually late at night because of volleyball, but y/n never complained about having to wait up for him. even more surprising to tsukishima was her participation. she always seemed bored with the work, but she never suggested a bad idea, or gave a wrong calculation.

"is this work boring to you?" tsukishima asked one night as they sat in his room, both working on the calculations for different trials of their experiment.

y/n raised an eyebrow, wondering if he was asking a literal question. when tsukishima didn't add anything else, she just shrugged.

"i mean sure. school's always boring," she commented.

tsukishima pursed his lips, "but not challenging?"

she shook her head, "nope."

then, it began to make more sense. her wandering thoughts in class, and general disinterest in school. it was easy for her. tsukishima then also realized, that as much as he enjoyed observing her, he liked knowing her a lot better.

the day of their presentation, tsukishima could see their poster board wobbling in y/n's hold. that explained why she sat in the back of class. without saying anything, tsukishima took control of the presentation. he gave the general explanation of their experiment, and answered all the difficult questions the teacher asked. he let y/n read the data, and made sure to give her credit for the calculations she did, so she would get a good participation grade.

the teacher thanked them, and they both walked back to their seats together. tsukishima had started sitting with y/n near the back. she gave him a small smile once they were seated, and tsukishima felt a strange sense of pride in himself. he noticed her discomfort, and made it better. clearly y/n was pleased with him, since that was the first smile he'd gotten from her. it made him feel accomplished. that day after class, tsukishima waited with y/n as she packed up her things.

"thank you," she said quietly, her eyes pointed downwards as she piled notebooks into her bag.

"of course, i couldn't have you messing up the presentation with your nerves," tsukishima replied, obvious teasing in his tone.

y/n rolled her eyes, another hint of a smile on her face as she kept her gaze down. she swung her bag over her shoulder and looked up at tsukishima.

"still, i appreciated it."

tsukishima just nodded, not sure he would be able to keep his cool demeanor if he said anything else. he parted ways with y/n at the doorway, and headed off to volleyball. just as he was thinking about seeing her after practice, it hit him. the project was over. there was no need to see y/n after practice anymore, which sent a surprising amount of disappointment through his chest.

luckily for him though, practice revealed that hinata and kageyama needed tutoring, and who better to help him than y/n, the smartest girl he knew. he promised the team that hinata and kageyama would pass their exams, and that night he texted y/n to ask for her assistance.

tsukishima felt his face heat up at her last text. he quickly shut his phone off and placed it on his night stand, trying to push the overly analytical side of his mind down. he couldn't stop himself though, and he began to overthink. what did that smiley face mean? he fell asleep with his mind on her, and the next morning he woke up excited to see her again.

they had science together last period, so tsukishima, as always, waited for y/n to grab her stuff before she left.

"hey tsukki," y/n started as she collected her pens off her desk.

"yeah?"

"could i stay during your practice? i won't if i'll be in the way, but i just thought it might be easier for me to wait than to come back up to school afterwards. if it's alright though, i don't wanna overstep any-"

"it's fine y/n. i'm sure they'll like having an audience to show off for," tsukishima said,  interrupting her nervous rambling.

the more tsukishima got to know y/n, the more he began to understand the reasons behind the behavior that intrigued him so much. she wasn't as detached from school as she looked; she actually seemed to be overly worried. tsukishima didn't understand that. why would it matter what people thought? he didn't say this to y/n though, since clearly it was a topic that bothered her. he didn't want to do anything to upset her; he liked her company too much.

"ok, thanks. i'll try not to distract your team too much," y/n teased as she pulled her bag onto her shoulder.

"not much you can do about that," tsukishima replied, before realizing what he'd just implied.

y/n's cheeks flushed, but thankfully she didn't comment on it. the two walked to the gym in comfortable silence as tsukishima's mind ran on overdrive. he couldn't believe he'd basically just admitted he thought she was pretty. it was true, but it seemed so embarrassing to admit. he didn't want y/n to get the wrong idea about their friendship.

tsukishima swung the gym doors open, and let y/n walk in before him. he followed right after her, and immediately regretted not giving her a bit of a warning when tanaka and noya spotted her. the boys rushed forward, their eyes wide with excitement.

"hi!" noya exclaimed, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"what's a pretty girl like you doing here?" tanaka asked, his voice too loud and excited to come off as creepy.

y/n looked like a deer caught in headlights though, and tsukishima mentally cursed himself for not taking her anxiety around people into account before bringing her here. he stepped up behind her, placing an arm over her shoulders protectively.

"give her some space idiots," he chided the other boys, whose eyes widened further as they looked up at tsukishima.

"tsukishima brought a girl?" tanaka asked, obvious shock in his voice.

tsukishima just rolled his eyes and led y/n over to the bleachers.

"don't mind them," he muttered, hoping to take away some of her nerves, "they're easily excited."

y/n laughed lightly, and tsukishima felt himself relax. she wasn't upset with him. y/n sat down and tsukishima stood by her as she pulled a book out of her bag. she started to read, but glanced back up at him before she got too far along.

"shouldn't you be doing warm ups or something?"

tsukishima shrugged, "i'm keeping the dogs at bay right now."

y/n peeked around him and saw almost all the boys in the gym watching her. her face flushed again and she ducked her head down.

"have these guys ever seen a girl before?" she muttered, making tsukishima let out a small laugh.

"apparently not," he replied.

then, tsukishima was called into practice, and the group's attention shifted to volleyball. every couple minutes, tsukishima would find himself looking over at y/n, just to see what she was doing. yamaguchi caught on quickly though, and pulled him aside during a water break.

"what's up with the girl tsukki?"

tsukishima choked on his water, and let out a quick cough to cover up his shock.

"nothing. she's gonna help me tutor hinata and kageyama."

yamaguchi grinned like he was in on some kind of secret.

"so, how do you know her?"

"she's in a few of my classes. we did a lab together. she's really smart," tsukishima answered, once again glancing over at her.

she was still reading, looking completely lost in her book.

"aw tsukki! you should see the way you look at her," yamaguchi gushed.

tsukishima gave his friend a cold stare, and yamaguchi stopped talking about her.

practice seemed to go on forever, and all tsukishima could think about the fact that y/n was watching him play. those thoughts ran even more rampant when he glanced over and saw her watching him. then, he found himself trying harder than normal. he didn't want to look weak in front of y/n. after a particularly well done receive, he looked up and met her eyes. she gave him a quick thumbs up, and tsukishima turned back to practice before his face could heat up.

by the time daichi wrapped up practice, it was dark outside. that never seemed to bother y/n though. hinata approached him as soon as they were released, a huge smile on his face.

"is it time for tutoring tsukishima? is that why you brought a pretty girl with you? is she going to help us too? or was she here just to watch you?"

questions came out of hinata in a rush, and tsukishima found himself fighting a blush off his cheeks.

"calm down dumbass," he snapped, "get changed out of your practice clothes, and then we'll start."

hinata nodded eagerly, and rushed into the locker room with kageyama on his tail. tsukishima followed after them, but not before looking over at y/n again. she was watching him intently, a soft look on her face. tsukishima ducked into the locker room before he could think of anything to say. he changed quickly, and found himself putting on his grey hoodie just because he liked how it looked on him. stupid y/n. he never thought about things like that before.

"bye tsukki," yamaguchi said with a wave as he began to exit the locker room.

some of the other boys filed out after him, and tsukishima took his time carefully gathering his school things after putting away his practice clothes. he heard some chatter coming from the main room, and almost immediately caught y/n's voice in the mix. he sighed again, and grabbed his bags to save her from whichever boy was talking her ear off.

tanaka, noya, and hinata were crowded around her while kageyama stood a distance away. tsukishima walked over, and caught some of their conversation.

"why do you like tsukishima?" hinata asked, his voice levels louder than y/n's.

"what?" y/n replied.

"he's so mean!" hinata exclaimed.

"and scary," noya added.

y/n furrowed her brows in confusion, "he's not scary at all."

hinata's eyebrows raised, "he doesn't scare you?"

then, he noticed tsukishima approaching, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"why are you nice to her and not us?"

tanaka and noya copied his pose, while y/n gave tsukishima a wide-eyed look that said, wow these guys have a lot of energy.

"maybe if you three were as smart as y/n i'd be nice to you too. speaking of which, don't we have tutoring to do?" tsukishima responded.

"ha! you've got it bad tsukishima, my man," tanaka exclaimed clapping him on the back.

then, he scrambled out of the gym before tsukishima could clap back over that remark. noya just wiggled his eyebrows at tsukishima before chasing after tanaka.

"have fun losers!" noya exclaimed over his shoulder as they left.

tsukishima rolled his eyes, and the study session began. kageyama joined them on the bleachers, and they started with math. y/n's favorite subject was math, so he let her take the lead. her eyes seemed to light up as she worked out the problems, explaining them with just enough patience that hinata and kageyama understood easily.

then, they moved on to the other subjects. whenever tsukishima started to get frustrated with hinata and kageyama, all it took was for y/n to make a comment, or laugh at their antics for all the frustration to leave tsukishima's mind. the boys seemed to notice it too, and while they were packing up, hinata just had to mention it.

"i see why you like tsukishima now y/n. he's nice around you!" hinata commented.

y/n shook her head, "you have the wrong idea hinata. but yeah, he's nice."

hinata looked between y/n and tsukishima with a raised brow.

"wait you two aren't dating?"

"hinata shut up!" kageyama hissed, swatting at him.

hinata moved out of his way and glared at kageyama.

"what? it's a genuine question."

y/n shook her head quickly as she shoved her books back into her bag. tsukishima could tell she was getting nervous with everyone's attention on her.

"stop being so nosey hinata," tsukishima snapped.

he walked over to stand by y/n, and he helped her climb down the bleachers to leave. she waved goodbye to hinata and kageyama before following tsukishima outside. the sun was completely set, and the only light came from the lamps lining the sidewalks around campus.

"sorry about them. they're all dimwits," tsukishima apologized once they were a fair distance away from the gym.

y/n shook her head, "it's alright. they seem very different from you though. how do you manage to play together?"

"they're good players. we make it work," he answered.

they walked in silence for a few more steps. then, they reached the exit of the school's grounds. both of them paused their walking, and y/n glanced up at tsukishima to find him looking down at her.

"well, thanks for letting me watch your practice. you're better than i would've guessed," y/n said with a teasing grin.

"i'd like to see you try to play, i bet that would shut you up," he teased back.

y/n laughed and adjusted the strap of her bag.

"so, it seemed like they got the concepts i taught."

tsukishima nodded, "you're a good teacher."

"thanks," y/n said, a proud look on her face.

"you could still come by tomorrow if you wanted to though," tsukishima offered, trying to keep his voice steady.

he was far too nervous over such a simple offer.

y/n's face lit up though, "really? to tutor them again?"

tsukishima nodded, "sure, if you want, or you could just watch practice. whatever you want."

"i'd like that tsukki," she replied, a bright smile on her face.

"alright then. let me walk you home; it's late," tsukishima offered, his nerves running too wild for him to just stand there looking at her any longer.

y/n nodded, accepting his offer, and reached out to loop her arm through his. tsukishima fought off another blush as they started the walk towards her house, and a thought settled into his mind that this was going to become a new routine for the pair of them.

[elvendara]

Sugar and Spice Day 1

July 12th

Ice Cream Date

Yoosung opened the door and stepped into the airconditioned shop. He checked his phone. The profile picture of his date was on the screen. The man had red hair, green eyes, and freckles. He was also wearing eyeliner which made the green of his eyes really stand out. He had been surprised when they matched, but also excited and had said yes when the man, Saeran, had DM’d him and asked him on a date.

Looking around he couldn’t see a single red head. He checked the time. Yoosung was a little early so maybe he had arrived first. He made his way to a table in the front by the window. Watching the people walking outside he wondered again if he’d be stood up. Why would an attractive guy like Saeran even give him a second glance? His attention was inward and he didn’t notice those few people he passed.

“Yoosung?” he heard, and paused, turning slowly to see who had called him. A man with white hair and pink tips was looking at him. Yoosung looked him over, the hair was different, but he recognized the brilliant green eyes, like the ocean depths.

“Saeran?” he asked.

“Yeah.” The man grinned as he stood. “Sorry, I keep forgetting to change my profile pic.” He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. Yoosung smiled, noting how differently they were dressed. Saeran wore a red shirt with a black leather coat, said coat having metal chains and zippers, most of which didn’t seem to have a specific function. There was a black collar around his neck with metal spikes and a matching cuff on his right wrist, his nails painted black. He wore black jeans and heavy biker boots.

In contrast, Yoosung wore his pink metal hair clips, keeping his blond hair out of his eyes. He had decided to match his hair clips and wore pink eyeliner and gloss. His outfit was an off the shoulder pink crop top with a purple paint splatter pattern, skinny purple jeans and pink platform sneakers. Around his left wrist was wrapped a pink, blue, and purple beaded necklace and his nails were a glittering deep pink. He suddenly felt like an over sprinkled strawberry ice cream cone.

“Well, it’s really nice to meet you.” Yoosung said, holding his hand out to shake.

“You too, you look great.” Saeran said as he took Yoosung’s hand in his. He held it longer than he needed to, but Yoosung didn’t mind. Those green eyes locked onto his own amethyst ones were mesmerizing.

“We should probably order huh?” Saeran said, letting go of his hand. It suddenly felt cold and lonely.

“Sure.” Yoosung strode towards the ice cream display. As he walked past Saeran, he felt the man put his right hand on his lower back, as if guiding him. He kept it there, walking up beside him until they were in front of the display case, when he took his hand off. Again, that feeling of pressing coldness and emptiness.

“What can I get for you?” The girl behind the counter asked. She must have been no older than sixteen. Her brown hair was held back in a ponytail, her chocolate-colored eyes intent on Saeran. It wasn’t difficult to see she was enamored by him. What was it they said? Girls like bad boys, right? Well, Saeran sure fit the stereotype, though it seemed to Yoosung that he was quite gentle. Maybe the tough guy look was a mask to keep people at bay? He really wanted to find out.

Yoosung watched as Saeran practically salivated over the choice of ice cream. He ended up with a waffle cone and three scoops of ice cream, vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry. It made Yoosung grin to see how much like a little boy in a candy store he looked like.

Yoosung ordered a cup with a brownie at the bottom and two scoops on top, mint chocolate chip and butter pecan. The green reminded him of Saeran’s eyes. He felt his cheeks blush when he ordered it. They took their seats and began to eat.

“You really like ice cream huh?” Yoosung said.

Saeran’s eyes went wide, then softened. “I do, I like sweet things.” He eyed Yoosung and smirked before suggestively licking his ice cream. Yoosung swallowed, feeling like a fish on a hook being eyed by a hungry fisherman. It should feel uncomfortable, but it only raised his temperature with excitement. He fiddled with his ice cream, taking a spoonful and gulping it down.

“So, on your profile it says you like gardening? I have to be honest…” Yoosung set his spoon in his cup and leaned forward towards Saeran, “…I kind of thought that was a lie, or at least an exaggeration?” he stated jokingly.

Saeran threw his head back and laughed, his Adam’s apple bouncing, straining against the studded collar around his neck. “Oh no, it’s true. I like gardening. Sometimes it’s nicer to be around a bunch of beautiful flowers and plants than around people. They’re easier to understand at least.”

“Must be nice, I have a black thumb myself, I couldn’t even keep an ivy alive! It’s supposed to be one of the easiest plants not to kill.”

“True, aside from cactus, maybe you should start with one of those.” Saeran teased.

“Maybe. It certainly couldn’t hurt to add some greenery in my apartment.” Yoosung shrugged.

“How about you? Everything on your profile true?” Saeran asked.

“I think so. Well, maybe I tried to make myself look better than I am.” He laughed.

“How so?”

“I might have forgotten to mention how much time I spend on gaming.” He stated. Saeran laughed again, making Yoosung feel accomplished in a way. For some reason, it didn’t seem like Saeran laughed a lot. There was something behind his eyes that spoke of great pain.

“I think I can handle a little gaming in a boyfriend.” Saeran said, once he was in control again.

The statement startled Yoosung. Boyfriend? He was too stunned to speak.

“How come you’re on a dating app anyway? You seem like an attractive guy, smart, charming, and fun.” Saeran asked. Yoosung wondered for a brief moment if he was teasing him again, but no, he seemed genuinely interested.

“Well…” Yoosung shrugged, “…I was pretty popular in high school, but too focused on schoolwork to have time for a girlfriend. And when I started university, it seemed like whoever I liked didn’t like me back, and whoever liked me, I wasn’t interested in. I don’t know, most girls just called me ‘cute’ and treated me like a puppy. Though that didn’t feel so bad either.” He was a little embarrassed to admit that part, but why not?

“Girlfriend huh?” Saeran glanced down at the forgotten ice cream in his hand. Yoosung was about to speak but then he saw the smirk on the other man’s face. “How did you end up here with me then?”

“I didn’t choose a preference. Honestly, I barely glanced at the app, even when there was a match. But…when I saw your profile, I couldn’t help myself. I had to know more.”

“So I intrigued you? Is that it? Why?”

“You seemed like such a contradiction. The fact that you were hot didn’t hurt either.” Yoosung said. He surprised himself with his boldness, yet he hoped he would get another laugh out of the man. He wasn’t disappointed.

Saeran rubbed his mouth, as if this was more than his muscles were used to, then he looked up at Yoosung. There was a splash of color across the apples of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. It made his freckles stand out. So Cute!

“I…I really like you Yoosung.” He whispered, as if he was embarrassed to admit it.

“I like you too.” He reached his left hand out and laid it on Saeran’s right hand. The studded wrist cuff the other man wore and the pastel necklace wrapped around his own wrist were a striking contrast that was more than aesthetically pleasing.

[petri808]

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33-Epilogue

— I just wanna say thank you so much to everyone who followed along, your comments and suggestions along the way really helped to bring this story to life! It’s my longest fic to date, and to think it started as a one-shot for nalu day 2020 lol. YOU GUYS HELPED MAKE THIS HAPPEN! 🥳🥰🥰 ILY YOU ALL!💜💜💜💜

@mcornilliac special shout out for you help with the toughest part 😘

Even after all these years, riding on a train still brought a small flutter to Lucy’s stomach as she remembered the long ago evening when she’d met her husband. From an innocent meeting to a death defying experience, talk about a roller coaster ride. And yet, if she had to do it all over again, Lucy wouldn’t change a thing. Crazy sounding yes, for why would anyone not want to avoid what she’d gone through? Touka had truly pushed her sanity to the breaking point, but well, the therapist was right in the end and Lucy felt almost invincible now. All that pain, all the struggle she’d pushed through had made her the strong and resilient woman she was today. Happily married to Natsu with their fraternal twins Nashi and Ryuu. Mrs. Natsu Dragneel, Lucy smiled to herself, there was no way she’d change a thing.

Of course, it hadn’t been easy. After Natsu proposed and Lucy had accepted, there were still a lot of work to be done. But that measure of acceptance and affection did wonders. Any worries she’d had that he wouldn’t want a broken woman melted away and gave her the confidence to get better. With each passing therapy session, her strength grew, and by the time they graduated college, Lucy could honestly say she’d been cured to a functional degree. No longer struggling through nightmares and panic attacks, her anxieties were under control and the debilitating depression a distant memory where it belonged.

Yeah... Lucy sighed happily as she watched the landscape pass by from her train seat. Meeting Natsu was the best thing to ever happen in her life, well, aside from the kids. They’d married about a year after graduation on the anniversary of their meeting. It was a beautiful affair at an indoor venue, with close friends and family to join them. They’d gone a more modern route for the ceremony but did take pictures at a garden dressed in the traditional attire for sentimental reasons. Lucy wore the shiromuku white kimono while Natsu a montsuki haori hakama. And no, it wasn’t train themed! Levy was the Maid of Honor and Gray was the best man. By then, Levy and Gajeel were also married and Gray in a serious relationship with a girl named Juvia Lockser. Lucy was so happy for them both. All of their lives were moving in the right direction.

Everything was perfect. Great jobs in their fields of interest, lives settled into a comfortable routine, when 5 years later Lucy was pregnant with fraternal twins. It was a total surprise since twins didn’t run in either of their families. Always the jovial optimist, Natsu joked that they’d been doubly blessed because of what they’d gone through, and Lucy couldn’t help but love such a concept. Of course, once the euphoria of the motherhood prospect waned, reality set in that she was having twins! Two! Double the babies meant double of everything, from the pregnancy concerns to raising them. Growing up without a mother and as an only child, Lucy didn’t have a lot of experience with small children. But Natsu patiently assured her, that she’d do just fine. Think of it as a new challenge, and after overcoming one pretty tough situation, this would be a walk in the park. On the bright side, Levy was also pregnant with the couple’s first child so the two best friend’s kids would grow up together.

And Natsu was right, there were a few bumps in the road but nothing too difficult. During her fourth month Lucy was diagnosed with gestational diabetes as well as some minor gastrointestinal issues, so Natsu swayed the doctor to put her on bed rest. Better safe than sorry. The babies were healthy, but by the 7th month, she really couldn’t move much, and she was miserable being stuck at home all the time. Lucy missed her job because she genuinely enjoyed working for the magazine. But in the end, it had been a good thing. She could manage her health easier that way and it gave her time to do something she’d thought about doing as part of the healing process. With Natsu’s support and permission, it was time to put her writing skills to good use and write a book about their experience.

It became an instant hit, especially with female readers. The book was not only an autobiographical reflection of what had happened to them but focused on shining a light on the dangers of stalkers, as well as the importance of taking the warning signs seriously. Lucy didn’t hold back in her re-telling, even pointing out the serious flaws in Japan’s laws in protecting citizens from stalkers which at the time were nonexistent. Feminist organizations working to change those laws used her story with permission for their cause. She had no intentions of becoming a poster child for the movement, but in the end her role may have played its part, because 2 years after the publishing, Japan finally adopted anti-stalking laws making it easier for police to string together harassment cases, as well as for victims to get the help they needed.

Her life was nothing but exciting to say the least! And with two young children, now age 10 certainly kept them on their toes. Their daughter Nashi was just like Natsu, very outgoing, friendly, but a bit of a daredevil while her brother Ryuu born 4 minutes after her was the quieter of the two. He preferred books like his mother to adventure. Of course, that never stopped Nashi from dragging him into shenanigans! But the best part was how close they still were and fiercely protective of each other. Lucy and Natsu couldn’t be prouder of them and hoped this would continue throughout their lifetimes.

Fifteen years... come to think of it, their wedding anniversary was coming up shortly. With Natsu now a senior fire inspector for the Tokyo prefectural government, he was often busy. Lucy did mind it, because frankly it gave her some peace and quiet. She chuckled at the thought. Not that it was all that peaceful with the twins. But she digressed. His success meant their lives were very comfortable, and her own journalism successes while not as financially based, were still celebrated in their relationship. Natsu never waned in being the dutiful and supportive, always loving husband that Lucy felt blessed to grow old with.

‘Two more stops, pick up the kids from school, stop at the grocery store for dinner...’ Lucy tapped out on her phone a to-do list of ingredients to pick up at the store. Perhaps katsudon... ‘Mmm, or maybe nabe,’ hot-pot soup since it was expected to be a bit chilly that evening.

Lucy looked up briefly, really just spacing out in thought when someone catches her eye. At the other end of the train car, she noticed a woman facing slightly away, but enough to where she couldn’t quite see a face. It couldn’t be... Lucy looked away not wanting to stare, but somehow... for some reason the woman was awfully familiar... looking exactly like Touka. Well, not exactly, but enough to make the hair on the back of her neck stand up. It was a blonde, with a different hair style— and that could always be changed. Similar body type, the facial side-profile features that Lucy could see resembled Touka...

Now despite being better, her anxieties still bubbled up from time to time, so she immediately switched to her coping techniques to calm them down. ‘You’re fine,’ Lucy talked herself through it, ‘no point in getting riled up.’ The woman hadn’t done so much as looked in her direction, so it must be okay. Contrary to popular belief, things like depression and anxiety never fully goes away, especially when someone has experienced a severe level of it. Those emotions and irrational thoughts are forever programmed into the brain, but there are ways to keep them at bay and Lucy’s successfully done just that for 15 years.

‘Just go back to what you were doing. Katsudon or nabe? And don’t forget you need to pick up milk...’ But, fifteen years... could Touka have been released by now? Lucy shook the thought away again. ‘Stop it! Everything is fine. It’s not her!’ The train was semi-full of passengers all minding their own business... including the woman. There was no reason to start panicking now. Lucy adjusts her position on her seat away from the woman’s direction. If she couldn’t see her, she could pretend she didn’t exist. ‘Maybe I should pick up ingredients for both, that way I don’t have to shop tomorrow.’ Lucy thought to herself, and with the kids with her, they could help in carrying the shopping bags. ‘Yeah, we’ve got a plan…’

After figuring out her shopping list, Lucy pulled up social media to keep herself distracted and for a few minutes it did the trick. Silly videos of entertainers never got old. The train reached the next stop and she felt it come to a stop. Since it wasn’t hers, she didn’t pay it any mind as she scrolled through her feed. But as the disembarking passengers funnel past Lucy, her eyes pick up on a pair of pink high-heels peeking from over the edge of her phone. Her body instantly stiffened up from the similarity to the ones worn by the woman, while her curiosity slowly got the better of her. ‘Breath, act nonchalant!’ Lucy’s eyes tracked the high-heels moving past her until they left her periphery. She then slowly sat back up, pretending to readjust her position, when she caught a pair of eyes looking back. Lucy’s breathing hitches with a shaky exhale. “Oh, my god—"

Standing at the doorway with one hand on the frame, the blonde woman smiled at Lucy then winked before stepping off the train.

It was Touka!

[strangerays]

Nothing in Particular Update #2

It’s the Nothing and Particular and Everything update part two: the electric booglaloo. This one is long, so strap in.

It’s been a while since I wrote an update for this story. To be honest, this one gave me a lot of stress, but here I am! Writing this story feels like it is going very slow. I keep telling myself I’ve made a lot of progress (which is true, I have) but for some reason it doesn’t feel like I have? This is likely just my own insecurity. To be frank, I can’t believe I’m still writing this story. If you had told me in February that I’d still be writing this when the weather got warm, I would have laughed.

I am SO excited that I will finally be able to focus on writing now that I’m out of school. I’m afraid to speak the rough deadline that I’ve given myself for this story (the end of August-early September) but now that I’ve spoken it into existence, I hope I can finish! (I hope I can stop watching dumb videogame playthroughs and listening to The Magnus Archives and get something done)

Here is a link to the story introduction and previous update!

TAGLIST (ask to be +/-); @wannabeauthorzofija @a-completely-normal-writer @baguettethebooklover​ @corkytheguar @writeherewaiting

STORY CHANGES/THOUGHTS/IDEAS: 

Here is a big one: I’ve been trying to write this story for myself. I started writing Ray’s story from a place that was personal to me, but I feel like, as that part of myself has begun to heal, I’ve started to think about what a reader would want out of the story. I’m realizing that this is my story so it has to be what I want. Drafts are drafts for a reason, so I’m going to try to get better at letting myself explore what is fun to me.

I always thought I was a discovery writer (I still sort of think I am) but as I’ve finished small sections of the story, I am finding that it’s very helpful to do a rough outline of scenes in upcoming chapters. (I also recommend turning to this if something doesn’t work and you need to retrace your steps!) Just helps me feel more organized!

Jude’s character has got to be one of the most difficult personalities I’ve ever written. Putting her beside Ray just makes it harder. Where Ray is secretive and keeps to herself, Jude is ready to unpack her entire life’s story to anyone. I find that I really have to slow down when writing their interactions. I know this is going to be nowhere near perfect in the first draft, but I think it is a main contributor to my slow writing.

I really like this little narrative I’ve created in the background of the main plot with Ray and Lonan. I love writing these scenes because it’s a way for me to use Lonan when he’s not actively with Ray and to show why Ray is predetermined about things at certain points. Also I love their friendship so much <3

CONGRATULATIONS TO ME on starting to read again because I forgot how much of a help reading other people’s stories can be when you’re struggling with your own oml

I now have a set timeline for the story! Takes place ~4-5 months.

I did that thing where you write a letter from the characters’ perspectives and that was kind of fun

Also just for fun I thought I’d add in that I spent an hour and a half last week filling up a page in my sketchbook with diagrams of the plot. It feels good to be a mad scientist

EXCERPTS UNDER THE CUT!

*At this point, I’m only sharing writing that I am really proud of in order not to spoil the story! This is because I am unsure whether I want to publish this story someday. With that said, that does NOT give you permission to steal my ideas!

CHAPTER: NIGHT CRIES

#1

In the last week of summer, I did everything I could to avoid post-vacation blues. I rode my bike along the gravel roads with no destination, wore my dark sunglasses to people-watch, and fed salami to the minnows that floated on the cusps of boulders. Usually, I sat still for so long that my elbows turned a deep shade of red and the blood in my toes buzzed.

New pockets seemed to open up in Point Blink every day. And with them, came new people. Most of them were older – a middle aged woman who caked her lipstick on, an uncle estranged from his brother, a couple who had miscarried. I hadn’t forgotten about the kids at Mothouse. It was impossible not to think about them. It wasn’t just that I’d never seen them before.

#2

The girl’s limp cigarette bled a trail of smoke that seeped into my Vans. My shirt folded like skin over my bed post. Haunted the room – foiled my mauve sheets and teased my locks. Swept the curtains apart and heated the oak floor. Beams of moonlight leapt to my bookcases; highlighted the posters from various podcasts and bands that I listened to. Wind whistled when I was too still. She forced me to look outside, onto the dark cul-de-sac lit by the reflections of forming rain puddles. No matter whether I sat at my desk or burrowed under my sheets, I felt out of place. She made my bedroom louder. She made my bedroom quieter.

I decided it would probably be best if I never saw her again.

To be honest, I don’t remember much about writing this chapter because it was over a month ago (sorry) but I’m still quite happy with the prose! This comes in after Ray sees Jude for the first time at Mothouse. Based on a first impression, decides that she might want be friends with Jude.

CHAPTER: SORRY

#1 

If you spend any long amount of time with someone, you’ll become a thief to their behaviors. If I stared long enough, trees began to replace all of the people we’d ever seen. Oaks had roots that serpentined the ground like children splashing in the bay, pines with needles like spindly old hands, maples with hollows like watchful eyes – all things Lonan had taught me to observe.

CHAPTER: GHOSTS

Then there was the sea – violent and knowing as it romped within bays and alcoves. She had eaten me many times before, both my father and Lonan too. Gulped them as if they were shining plastic wrappings left behind after a meal. I spited her for inviting me once again. I reached up again to grapple with the next rung. It twisted and offered a low whistle.

In these two chapters, Ray is on a photography trip with her class. This is the first time she’s been on this annual trip without Lonan. She left that morning with a goal of being independent and learning to get on with one of the only people she has felt close to. I realize now that the Ghost excerpt sort of sounds like her dad and Lonan have drowned?? Which was not my intention??

CHAPTER: A DIVINE INTERVENTION

#1

“Do you believe in ghosts?” A raspy voice teased from behind me. Cigarette smoke tickled the words, like they were stuck together with jelly inside of her. The question wasn’t particularly calming, but it strengthened my grip on reality. As if the foiled leaves, bark, and dandelions had sprung from the ground and begun to float, they came crashing back down.

I was made of stone.

“I’m not a ghost,” Jude said. “If I was, a ladder would be a pretty counteractive way to outrun me. I could just float up there and haunt you.”

“Maybe you’re a ghost,” she asked, her voice distant.

I shifted my grasp up and down the sides of the ladder. “What?”

“Don’t you believe in ghosts?”

I was reading back some of Ray and Jude’s conversation and there are so many snippets of dialogue that make me laugh because I totally forgot I wrote them... but UGhhH I don’t know if I want to share them because I don’t know whether or not I want to try and publish the story someday. Speaking of that, it’s sort of because it’s so personal to me? I don’t know (this is for future me to pursue) Honestly though, reading these back has made me really happy :)

#2

I wanted to shake her by the shoulders. She acted as though Point Blink could breathe – as though corpses in the cemetery might pull the grass away like dead skin, neighbors would draw blades, and blood-salt would stain her clothes rather than that from the sea. “Trust me, they’ll forgive you. But, I’m just saying, most people around here don’t care nearly as much as you think so. Most of them are way older anyways, so they’re tired of us.”

“Is that you complimenting yourself?” Jude asked.

“Not intentionally,” I said, “but I will take it.”

She laughed. “You shouldn’t be so nice to strangers.”

I wasn’t trying to be. I just didn’t think I wanted her to dislike me.

#3

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing or a good thing,” Jude said. “Being good gets you tucked into a thousand different memories. Being good makes you live a lifetime.”

I almost laughed, but then I wondered what I was to her now. “I don’t talk to lots of people.”

“Sometimes there aren’t many people to talk to. But I thought you would have loads of friends.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. “I thought you would too.”

Alarm like grief lit her eyes, but she laughed. I did too.

“You hardly know me,” she said quietly.

Then the girls explore some old newspapers and letters in a fire tower! Spooky fun!

CHAPTER: YOU LET THIS HAPPEN

This isn’t a major spoiler as it’s literally in the blurb I wrote, but Ray and Jude are caught (targeted..??)  in a fire. Ray is brought back to a field where she is questioned.

CHAPTER: NOTHING HAPPENS

He was quiet for several moments while he painted a picture with what little details I had given him, then said, “It’s unfair. I think that’s why it hurts.”

“Because we almost got hurt?”

“No. Because it came true.”

His gentle, ragged voice made me think I could tell him anything. Sometimes, I think that, even then, he knew I left something out.

Ray talks to Lonan after the fire... She’s being a bit dishonest about what actually happened.

CHAPTER: WHY NOT

I remember how the barest amount of red light glared across Lonan’s entire scalp and washed his boyish curls magenta from the roots out. When Jude leaned back on the counter, she melded into the darkness.

This chapter is just part of the narrative that I created with Ray and Lonan’s friendship. There isn’t much I want to spoil from it, but I liked this paragraph!

CHAPTER: INEVITABLE

“We didn’t do anything,” I said.        

“Someone did. Why won’t you believe me?”

 “I think I would remember whether or not someone was there with us,” I said, “even if we didn’t have the picture.”

This was untrue. I hung lots of photos in my room. A long time would pass before I went to a restaurant again, or a specific coven on one of the beaches, or an outfit that I wore, and I would look into one of my pictures and remember it, and then I would be quite angry with myself that I had almost forgotten that thing forever.

“I don’t think you understand what I mean,” Jude said. I didn’t like the way she’d lowered her voice. She sounded different every time I saw her. She reached out her arm so our photos were side by side and our fingers were almost touching. “I don’t think you want to.”

Ray finds herself alone in the school’s dark room with Jude. Based on the contents of one of her photos, she tries to convince Ray that there is more to the fire than what meets the eye.

CHAPTER: (this one is untitled)

I didn’t mind that he followed me everywhere. Even when he was quiet, I didn’t find it strange to be around him. We sat silently through films and went on walks. Once, he had fallen asleep while watching The Iron Giant in my bed. I didn’t know if I should wake him up once it ended. I tried not to stare at him. He’d rolled onto his side and bundled himself in one of my blankets covered in stars up to his shoulders so only his small face poked out like a baby owl’s. His soft breath messed his dirty gold coils. They were at their longest. Except for the ebbing light from a candle on my desk, my house was asleep – Lonan needed to go home.

For the first time, I wondered if anyone cared where he was.

Another small part of the little friendship narrative! (This really is the part of the story where I get nostalgic for my childhood, isn’t it) Ray starts to discover more about Lonan’s home life in this part of the story, but there’s not much that I think I want to reveal about that for now.

CHAPTER: THE CRUX OF IT

Why did I feel so paranoid? I found myself staring out the window, into the film of blue that the late sun shown onto the grass and trying to remember what summer felt like.

My main problem was that I didn’t know how to talk to Jude unless it was about Sugarfell. I ran from the hush of cigarette smoke behind closing doors and heard her loud voice in conversations. Even though there might have still been a part of me that wanted to be friends with her, I didn’t have much to base that feeling off of. I could have spent hours clicking the little pieces of her that I had together, but the crux of it was that I would never know Jude unless I forced myself to.

For some reason, that really scared me.

I spent all week trying to think of what to say to her. By Friday afternoon, I still had nothing.

I left off writing with Ray actively avoiding Jude’s little investigation into the arsonist. Ray doesn’t want to be involved in this because she feels that it will throw her sense of normalcy off course. She really just wants to learn how to adapt to a life without her best friend. (It doesn’t help that she’s got fresh trauma)

What will Ray decide? I don’t know. We shall see. (just kidding I know)

Sorry this update was longer! I think I would like to start updating more often than once a month just because they would be shorter and those of you reading this won’t forget what happened in the last update. There are thousands and thousands of words that didn’t show up in this update because - like I said - I don’t know whether I want to publish this story ever?? I’ll probably talk more about this in a separate update.

Thank you so much to those of you who read about my story! I hope you enjoy it!

:)

p.s. btw I now have a myWriteClub account! You can check it out here and stalk me as I tragically fail my writing goals!

[holidaywishes]

the truth

part nine: the truth

  Requested: 🙅‍♀️

  Summary: “I ended things because I hated being your second-choice, I hated sharing you with this city, I hated not having an identity aside from... you. And honestly, I think you like it that way...”

  Warning: angst, some fluff

  Author’s Note: As I was looking over this series, I realized the last time I wrote for it was the beginning of the Pandemic. Literally, it was like March 25th, 2020. I keep trying to find time to add to it, or to finish it, but never get a chance; until now. I’m making myself do it and it’s a big reason why my requests are closed. I have three chapters planned and they’re all gonna be pretty angsty with some fluff thrown in for the hell of it. I’m curious to know how many people want this to end happily and how many people want it to end... “realistically” i.e. with more angst than fluff; so I created a poll! Have fun and let me know what you think! I’m hoping that I can get this out before my birthday because it’s been more than a year and I’m ready to move on to other fics lol. Enjoy! Stay Golden, loves! <3

  masterlist

  the other masterlist

xx

  You would be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t spent the last week thinking about what you and Brendan had talked about; how your ideas of marriage didn’t seem to match up anymore. There was a few days when the conversations the two of you had would hover around superficial topics, like the weather or his practices or what either of you wanted for supper, and you knew it was so you would just avoid bringing up the truth

  “So...” he finally said one Sunday afternoon and you felt yourself prepare yourself for the inevitable conversation, furrowing your brows when he kept it to small talk, “what are the plans for today?”

  “Nothing in particular...” you sighed, “got any ideas?”

  “Wanna go out for dinner?” he asked, not looking up from the paper he was reading. He never read the paper and you weren’t sure why he was starting now

  “Like a date night?” you prompted and he finally looked up, giving you a smirk

  “Yeah,” he replied, “like a date night. How does that sound?”

  “I mean,” you smiled, sitting back in your seat, “yeah that sounds great. Where are we going?”

  “That one in the Birks Hotel? With the Stained Glass?” he said, trying to think of the name

  “Henri Brasserie?” you questioned

  “HENRI BRASSERIE! That’s it” he exclaimed

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah... why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Every time we walk past, you kinda.. scoff at it”

  “I do not” he countered and you raised your eyebrows at him

  “Yes. You do”

  “Well, I think it would be a nice place for a date night. Plus, we’ve never been”

  “Yeah, that’s true,” you added, “alright! What time?”

  “6”

  “It’s almost 4 now!” you exclaimed

  “Yeah?” he said dumbly and you scoffed hastily before making your way to the bedroom to pick an outfit, “(Y/N)? Babe?” he called

  “I have to get ready...” you replied and he laughed 

  “You have tons of time!”

  “STOP!” you laughed in a small panic, “I’m going to take a shower!”

xx

Brendan’s P.O.V

  You shook your head as (Y/N) rushed around trying to get ready, jumping into the shower quickly while you stayed downstairs in the kitchen.

  “Bonjour, Henri Brasserie, comment puis-je vous aider aujourd'hui?” a voice asked when they picked up on the other line

  “Bonjour,” you started, switching to English quickly, “I know it’s last minute but I’m hoping to make a reservation for two, tonight, at 6?”

  “Oh,” the voice said, clearly baffled at the last minute request, “uhm.. let me see”

  “I really appreciate it,” you said, looking up the stairs to make sure (Y/N) was still in the shower, “I’m planning to propose tonight”

  “Congratulations!” the voice exclaimed

  “Merci” you smiled to yourself

  “Oh, wow,” she scoffed, surprised, “someone just cancelled their reservation, for 6:15 tonight”

  “Perfect!”

  “Can I just grab a name for the reservation?”

  “Brendan,” you said, “Last name, Gallagher” you heard them gasp and you had to hold back a chuckle

  “Monsieur Gallagher,” they started, “I’m so sorry. I’m such a fan, I should’ve recognized your voice...”

  “Don’t worry,” you smiled, “I’m happy you were able to find a table for us”

  “Is there anything special you would like? We are so honoured you have chosen us for your proposal tonight and we would love to be able to make the night as special as possible for you and your soon-to-be-fiancée”

  “If you could put us next to that big Stained Glass window that would be perfect,” you asked, hoping they could manage it, “and maybe have a bottle of your favourite Champagne ready for dessert?”

  “Of course!” they said excitedly, “we would be happy to do that. Anything you need”

  “Thank you,” you smiled again, blushing slightly, “but you don’t have to go out of your way. I don’t want to make anything difficult”

  “We will make it an unforgettable night, Monsieur”

  “Thank you. We’ll see you at 6″

  “See you then!” You imagined that as soon as you ended the call, they were frantically trying to get things sorted so that you had everything you needed and you just hoped it wasn’t too much for (Y/N), who you could now hear searching through her closet for a dress to wear

  “You’ll look beautiful in anything you choose” you flirted, heading to your closet to grab a suit

  “But this is a nice place, B, we should look nice”

  “And you will,” you replied, walking over to her after throwing your chosen suit on the bed, “because you look beautiful always.” You placed your arms around her waist as she continued to search her closet, kissing her cheek before leaving to get dressed, “I love you”

  “Love you, too” she smiled, turning around to plant a light kiss on your lips before she shooed you away. When the two of you finally got to the restaurant, you were welcomed quickly and (Y/N) smiled awkwardly before whispering to you, “you called this in last minute didn’t you?”

  “I would never. I always plan everything, to the smallest detail” you joked, nodded in appreciation to the hostess who showed you and (Y/N) to your table

  “Liar” she teased

  “Love you.”

xx

  The staff fell over him like he was made of gold and you could only laugh at how hard they were trying. The restaurant was beautiful and Brendan had managed to reserve the bay window where the stained glass stood; whether it was planned weeks in advance or just a few minutes, you were just happy to be out with him like this. It had been so long.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked

  “Nothing,” you smiled, shaking your head, “I’m just wondering how you’d ever get by without all this attention...”

  “Oh come on,” he chuckled, wiping his mouth with his napkin before placing it on his plate before the servers came to take away your dishes, “I’m not... it’s not that bad is it?”

  “You like all this attention, I get it” you smirked, shrugging playfully

  “How was everything?” your server asked

  “It was great!” Brendan said quickly before ordering dessert for the two of you

  “Oh, Bren, I’m so full... I don’t think we should get dessert..” you tried

  “How about some Champagne?”

  “Sure,” you smiled, “Champagne sounds nice.” The wait staff rushed to clear the table, leaving you to giggle at their eagerness, before you were being handed a crystal glass to clink with Brendan

  “To you,” he started, “to us”

  “To us” you repeated with a smile, taking a sip of the bubbly beverage, not realizing Brendan had gotten up from his seat until you were placing your glass back on the table, finding him kneeling on one knee. “No,” you thought to yourself, “please no. Not here, not like this...”

  “(Y/N)...” he started

  “Shit” you thought to yourself, a tear building in your eye as you already knew what you were about to say

  “I love you more than I ever thought I could love somebody and we’ve definitely had our moments that made things difficult but in the end it was all worth it. Because we wound up stronger,”

  “Brendan...” you tried to stop him

  “We found each other when I think we both needed it and I could not be more grateful for anyone in my life. When I think about my future, you’re the first thing I see. I want to share everything with you. The good, the bad, the in-between. I want us to share our lives together”

  “B..” you sighed, closing your eyes as he reached into his pocket

  “Will you marry me?” he asked, pulling out a small velvet box and revealing a diamond ring more beautiful than you could’ve imagined and you sat there in silence for a moment while the entire restaurant looked on. Any words struggled to escape your throat and your eyes just lingered on Brendan’s for a minute before you finally spoke

  “No” you said quietly, wiping a tear from your eye and walking away, stopping only when he grabbed your arm lightly, light enough for you to pull it away. You made your way out of the restaurant and leaned against the wall before walking toward the apartment. You couldn’t believe you were here again, trying to navigate this relationship while on a completely different page than the person you were supposed to be figuring it out with. When you felt a drop of water fall on your skin, you groaned to yourself before hearing a car pull up behind you

  “Get in,” Brendan called to you and you shook your head, “(Y/N), just get in the damn car” you stopped before walking to the passenger door and hopping into the seat

  “Le--” you started but he just turned up the volume on the radio to tune you out, leading you to turn your face to stare out the window. He slammed the door as he got out of the car, leaving the front door to the apartment wide open and you took a deep breath before you walked inside, closing it slowly behind you

  “WHAT THE HELL?!” he yelled

  “Let me explain,” you started, “I’m sorry”

  “Explain!”

  “You can’t get mad at me. I get that you’re upset but don’t yell and go on like a child. Just listen to me”

  “Fine” he huffed

  “Why did you propose? I mean really, what made you think that it was a good time or that we were ready or that I would say yes?”

  “Because we love each other?!” he said angrily

  “Yes,” you sighed, “I love you but I never said I was ready to marry you”

  “We talked about it…”

  “Did we?” you countered, sitting across from him as he thought about his answer, “I found your scrapbook, we talked about the wedding. I let it go because I thought it was sweet that you even had the scrapbook in the first place but then when we talked about being married…”

  “We talked about how nothing would change…”

  “You talked about how nothing would change and how great that would be for you,” you argued, sighing before dropping your head to your hands, “I never said I wanted to get married or that I was ready to get married”

  “You don’t want to marry me?” he asked sadly, a frown covering his features in a way you’d never seen before

  “That’s not what I’m saying”

  “Then what are you saying? You just humiliated me back there so I think I deserve the truth”

  “I don’t… know,” you huffed, getting up and pacing away from him, “I don’t know. I love you, Brendan, you know that. I wouldn’t have agreed to try this again if I didn’t love you but it just I can’t marry you right now”

  “Why not?!”

  “Because nothing has changed!” you yelled back finally, letting your mouth drop open at your own admission, watching his eyebrows scrunch together as he took in what you were saying

  “What do you mean..? What hasn’t changed?” he asked

  “Why do you think we broke up in the first place, the first time?”

  “I don’t know. You kept saying that we weren’t good for each other anymore and stuff like that…” you scoffed

  “You’re right,” you said, knowing that you couldn’t deny that you had, in fact, said those words, “but what else did I say? Why would I have said that we weren’t good for each other?”

  “I have no idea! I always thought we were good for each other.”

  “You don’t listen! You think you have all the answers or that you can fix everything so easily but you can’t. Not everything can be fixed so quickly.”

  “Fine. Okay, tell me now.” He insisted and you tilted your head, “I’m listening. I won’t say a word. I won’t try to fix it. Tell me now why you think we weren’t good for each other”

  “The truth?” you asked once before he took your hand and sat you down next to him on the couch

  “The truth”

  “We drifted apart. We were so hopelessly in love when we first met and I know things got stressful for you because of how the seasons were going but you wouldn’t talk to me about it. At first, I thought it was fine. Like I’d give you your space and there was a reason you didn’t want me to know you were feeling shitty about the way things were going. But a few years later and you’re still not talking to me about it? We’re supposed to be a team, you’re supposed to be able to talk to me about the stress you have so I can take some of it from you but that wasn’t us. You kept your stress to yourself and I got frustrated and mad and I made brash decisions like that guy,” you sighed, turning your body slightly, your knees grazing his, “you didn’t have to be alone in all of it”

  “I never felt like I was alone…” he said

  “I did” you confessed, realizing that was the first time you had really said those words out loud. You did feel alone all those years. Every decision you made was because you felt like you were in the relationship without him and it still felt that way; especially when your idea of marriage was so different than his seemed to be. “I guess,” you said, biting the inside of your cheek nervously, “I ended things because I hated being your second-choice, I hated sharing you with this city, I hated not having an identity aside from... you” you took a minute so he could hear what you were saying but there was still more you wanted him to understand, “honestly, I think you like it that way...”

  “What does that mean?”

  “If I’m here for you, unconditionally, then I get to be one of these girlfriends that the city can accept. I won’t be a loose cannon or someone that brings drama. They’ll accept me and you’ll get to finally have all this acceptance that you crave"

  "You think I crave acceptance?"

  "Yes" you replied simply

  "I don't.. think that's true" he stammered

  "I don't know if it's because you're a small guy in the league and you feel like you have to constantly prove yourself," you said, shaking your head to yourself as you spoke before catching a glimpse of his scowl, "or if it has something to do with being the eldest sibling.. I don't know, but yeah, yeah I think you crave acceptance"

  "What if I just crave your acceptance?"

  "Brendan..." you sighed, "you've always had my acceptance. That's why it's not about me"

  "So.. what does this mean?" he asked, head hung low

  "I love you. I always have and I always will and I want to marry you someday but I can't sacrifice myself for you. I need to be able to work and go on vacations and have friends outside of the Habs Wives. I need to not feel like I belong to you," you said, taking his hand softly in yours so he would look at you, "we're not objects. We're people and I want us both to be treated that way"

  "Me too" he smiled softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead

  "Are you okay?" you asked, wincing a little as you looked at his still sad face

  "I'm fine," he said, "a little embarrassed but it'll pass. I love you"

  "I love you, too," you replied, smiling as you kissed the tip of his nose. "Hey," you continued, "don't give up on me okay?"

  "I wouldn't dream of it" he smirked

  "I just mean... keep asking"

  "You got it, babe."

[deripmaver]

4 5 6 for ALL OF THE CaPri FANFICS

LKSJMDHGVLKSJ ALL OF THEM???

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue? 5: What part was hardest to write? 6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

Ink On Paper (tongue fic) 4. lmfaoooooooo there isn't a whole lot of dialogue in this one oop-

Laurent nodded. The wax softened as he pressed his hand into it, erasing his previous message. Soft, warm, melting under his touch. He wrote again, I need someone who is not afraid to read out the insults I make towards the idiots at court. You have been fired, Damianos.

i guess it technically counts lmfao. i just wanted to show laurent post-trauma still able to make jokes and snipe at his husband so it wasnt all doom and gloom 5. i'm not sure exactly what "hardest to write" here means because like... a lot of these fic have serious gore or otherwise upsetting content, but both emotionally and actually writing wise i find that kind of thing actually pretty easy to write hahahaha. i think i got stuck with the chronology and the decision to make it non-linear made it flow a lot better. for the record writing laurent getting raped and then having his tongue cut out was actually very easy to write, i think i got it out in basically one go. #cancelme the more fucked up and intense the easier i find to nyoom through it 6. my first ever fic in the capri fandom!!!! hehehehhehehe <333333 Level Of Concern (plan B fic) 4.

Before Nicaise could say anything, Laurent spat, “Does he know you had your first heat?”

SURPRISE nic was the one who was pregnant the whole time!!!!!!! 5. this one i banged out REALLY quickly so i cant think of anything here 6. capri omegaverse!!!!!!! i wish there was more of this 🥺🥺🥺 Like Me (what if Auguste was also abused fic) 4. ******CW INCEST MENTION CW ABUSE MENTION******

“Your brother’s stuck his dick in every single member of your family,” Auguste spat out, laughing, crying, and so miserable he thought his heart would stop. His voice rose again, and he felt something burst from him as he screamed for the whole world to hear, “Did you know that? Did you, huh papa? Did he fuck you too?”

dude this line is so fucked up lmfao but i enjoyed writing it so much. actually this entire scene where auguste is having his breakdown was really intense to write and im really pleased with how it came out OR

Auguste grabbed him suddenly, looking up into his grief-stricken face desperately. “Please, Laurent,” he pleaded, voice breaking. “Please. Don’t let him end up like me.”

i felt entirely too clever with this line lmfao. i was like ~ooooohhhhh title drop~ im so dumb 5. i just remember this one like. dragged on for some time. i couldnt figure out what to do with it, how to get everything to coalesce around the final reveal about auguste 6. plot twist!!!!!!! plus auguste angst. i really enjoyed this one, i wrote it after watching the movie Spotlight which is one of my all time faves Softly, Gently 4.

“My King has been overexerting himself again, I presume?” Paschal sighed, shaking his head with a fond smile. “When have I ever done that?” Laurent cocked his head to the side, a wry smile on his face.

hehehehe sassy laurent my beloved <33333 5. honestly im just going to skip this one from now on lskjghmvlksjhglkvsjhdl i just get "stuck" sometimes without rhyme or reason and its usually on boring stuff, but then i cant remember later. the hardest part for me is when my dumb fucking adhd brain wont let me focus on writing but once i overcome that its usually pretty smooth sailing 6. horny omegaverse.................... my beloved............... giving men vaginas for horny reasons my beloved......................... Water of Life (birth fic)

“Do you want to hold him?” Erasmus breathed, eyes glassy. The baby cried, Erasmus bouncing him tenderly in those sunkissed arms. He looked apologetic. “Only for a moment, it’s not quite over yet.” A playful smile danced on Erasmus’ lips, and he brushed away a slick, damp curl from the wailing baby’s head. “A head this big, he certainly takes after Exalted.”

a cute, fun lil line in the sea of horrible angst lmfao ORRRRRR

Erasmus knelt before Damen, before Laurent. He said, “Exalted… Can you command his Highness to push?” Damen froze. “Do you mean…?” Erasmus nodded. “Alpha command.” Damen’s expression crumpled. He said, in a voice that shattered Erasmus’ heart, “I can’t. I can’t do that to him.” Erasmus licked his lips. “Exalted, in this state, he can’t push. His contractions are weaker. He’ll-” “I can’t,” Damen cried, clinging to Laurent’s limp body like a lifeline. “He’d… He’d never forgive me.”

damen is so sweet........ he loves laurent so much...... ORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

He stopped at the doorframe, turning to face Laurent with tears in his eyes, and whispered, “How long does it take, your Highness?” Laurent, shocked enough to respond, hissed, “What?” “I still wake up in the middle of the night thinking of it,” Erasmus said, voice thick in his throat, tears burning at his eyes. “How long until it’s over?”

real sad hours if u up click like. i love erasmus and laurent bonding over their shared trauma <33333333333333333333 laurent and erasmus friendship propaganda 24-fucking-7 bay bee!!!!! 6. unironically this is one of my fav fic ive ever written skdljmfhgvlksjdhflmgkvjshldkjfghvmls call the midwife is one of my favorite shows and writing this made me look at birth as something visceral and possibly horrible and traumatic. i wanna write more fucked up birth scenes, SO MANY MORE. ridley scott knew what he was doing Sandalwood (erasmus/kallias my sweet boys i love u so much) 4.

“I do,” Erasmus breathes, ducking his head, flushed as though embarrassed. “In the gardens, the perfume from the orange trees all around us on those summer nights.” Kallias smiles behind him – Erasmus knows his body so intimately he can feel it in how Kallias’ posture changes, though he can’t see the soft turn of his lips. “The scent was so cloying I thought it would drive me mad. It made me want to kiss you senseless.” Erasmus laughs, breathlessly, imagining the warm heat of Kallias’ mouth against his. “Don’t blame that on the orange trees, dear one.”

beloved..................... im weeping.......... 6. these two make me fuckign CRY ON THE REG I LOVE THEM SO MUCH MY SWEET BOYS YOU DESERVE THE WORLD- Wisps of Smoke******************* (lauguste fic) 4. ***CW EXPLICIT INCEST*** (i mean....... obviously lmfao)

“Call me what I like,” Auguste growled against his ear. “You know what I like.” He did. Laurent did. He knew everything Auguste liked – the slow flick of Laurent’s tongue on the underside of his cock, that tender spot behind his earlobe, the way Laurent’s thighs looked straddled atop him like his horse – and this. “Brother,” Laurent gasped, desperate, “Brother, please, harder. Harder.”

i wanted the incest to be explicitly part of the kink here lmfaoooooo 6. hehehehehehehhehehehhehe lauguste................... i need to write more of u But I Love It (laurent is allergic to latex fic) 4.

“Laurent,” Auguste said, voice high in warning. Laurent braced himself, stiffening visibly. With what seemed to be monumental effort, Auguste continued, “You know, Laurent. I’m proud of you.”

IM A SOFT BITCH OK???????????????? auguste is PROUD of his baby bro for overcoming his sexual trauma and getting that fat dick 6. SLJHVDLMKJDHGVLK PEOPLE FUCKING LOVED THIS FIC i tried to be funny and i think it worked. plus some softe bits thrown in. i also kind of see lots of humor fic where its a no abuse au, but i wanted to write something comedic where the regent still. existed u kno????? anyways hahahahha i dont think i can write anything like this again but im glad y'all liked it Is It Cold In The Water (slice of life fic) 4.

Laurent opens his mouth to say something cheeky, but instead, what comes out is: “Do you think Aimeric had the right idea?” Damen is quiet for so long, gaze serious and framed with his long, dark lashes, that Laurent wonders if he’d spoken aloud at all – and when he’s sure he had, he realizes Damen had remembered Aimeric after all. When he speaks again, the sleep is gone from his voice. “Laurent,” Damen says carefully, as though approaching a spooked horse, “Is something wrong?”

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 soft,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, 6. ruby likes this fic lskjdvhmflgksfjdhmvglkjsdhflkvgmjhlekjfhdvlgskjfhv im a SIMP- The Devil's Got Nothing On Me (AIMERIC FIC LEGGOOOO) 4. there are lots of lil nuggets in here!!!!

Aimeric blinks, and all he can think is, you knew? He says, "I – I just." "I am a patient man," Guion breathes, "I support everyone in my household. Everyone. But Aimeric, you are truly testing my patience. Your mother came to me in tears, begging me to find you. Look at what you did to her! There was nothing I could say until we found you!" "I'm sorry," Aimeric whispers, looking at Loyse, "I'm-" "Look at me," Guion roars.

this conversation was inspired by a very miserable encounter with my boss lmfao. fuck that guy and fuck guion

The regent, blue eyes sparkling - and Aimeric has never thought eyes could look just like a summer sky until now - says to Guion but really to Aimeric, "I was thinking I could take little Aimeric riding tomorrow. Just the two of us." Loyse says, before Guion can speak, voice trembling with relief, "I think that's a wonderful idea, your Highness."

~dramatic irony~ lmfaoooooooooo. WE know of course that this is a bad thing, but it's always fun to have characters make bad choices that they have no idea are bad. i also did this briefly in "Like Me" with auguste's ex wife taking nicaise to church because she was so overwhelmed at home and he offered to help. of course, the regent is always happy to help out. evil evil evil

"-was worried it might be difficult for him." A soft, lilting laugh. The guards had said the regent was in the library, and then there is Guion, right there with him. Aimeric is suddenly angry, not sure why his father is with the regent, who is his and no one else's. The regent responds, "I daresay it's been perfectly easy. It seems you've done most of the work already."

i wanted to highlight the fact that it was aimeric's neglect that lead him to the regent in the first place. hence "youve done most of the work already" - guion by ignoring and neglecting aimeric created the perfect environment for the regent to sweep in and take advantage. like leaving food out btwn 40-140 F is a perfect breeding ground for bacteria LOL. the books touch on that but i wanted to make it explicit

He is so, so ashamed. It's unbearable, the thought of her kind eyes, the way she cried for him, the way he pushed her away. Before he'd left to join the prince's guard, she had taken his hand, kissed it, and said in a voice fragile as glass, "It's been such a long time since I've seen you smile like that," but in that moment he could think only of the regent's letter warm in his pocket.

6. honestly i know ive sounded super conceited this whole time but i kind of tear up whenever i read through the end of the fic lmfao. aimeric is just so fucking depressing as a character and i love that i really got to explore that in this fic. he really didnt have anyone, did he????? he's like a tragic greek character where you just watch him stumbling towards his inevitable end and it hurts the whole time. its even worse on the reread ANYWAYYYYYYY thats it. thanks so much for the ask anon!!!!!!! feel free to send me more!!!

[anobscurename]

ocean eyes – chris evans

previous part: PART XV — masterlist

concept: the three times chris comforted you, and the times you returned the favour. the slowest of slow burns, the angstiest of all angst. part sixteen of many.

pairing: chris evans x reader

word count: 3,8k

warnings: drinking, so much fluff, heartbreaking angst

author's note: this one, guys, gals, and non-binary pals, is for @fangirlovestuff because it's her BIRTHDAY. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABYYYY (and i'm sorry in advance). the songs are linked, so if you don't know them, you can check 'em out :)

In your ten months of knowing him, Chris had always known how to cheer you up, irregardless of how big or small the issue was.

You would even go so far as to call him a master of distraction – because by the end of the day, you wouldn't even have known you'd cried at all.

You could recall three times he had been there for you, and the two times you returned the favour.

The first time he had seen you cry – about three months into your living situation – he had been by your side immediately, pulling you flush against his body. He held you in his big arms for the longest time, and just waited the sobs out.

He wasn't the type of person to press, and he knew you'd tell him what was wrong if you wanted.

Instead, he asked you what you wanted.

You were lightheaded and cry‐drunk, so it took a moment to come back to yourself. "Huh?"

"Do you want to be quiet or loud?"

"I just..." You struggled to find words that didn't make you sound needy, but you found none. "I don't want to be alone."

"That's out of the question," he smiled knowingly. "So, what will it be, {your last name}? Quiet or loud?"

He had a twinkle in his eye, one that suggested his question delved deeper than the words implied.

"Quiet."

And then he was pulling you up off the couch and out the door in total disregard of your chosen attire.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

"Chris, I'm literally in my pyjamas–"

But he was already opening the garage, the creaks of the gears overshadowing your weak protests.

"You're wearing pants this time," he winked at you. "So we have that going for us."

And then you were in the car, location still a mystery.

Any attempts to get a modicum information was shut down with a simple "it's a surprise."

"Why can't you tell me?"

"Because then it wouldn't be a surprise."

And you were glad he hadn't told you, because soon, you were pulling up outside a place you hadn't been to since you were a kid and going on school trips. You'd never been to any L.A. ones, having moved there only half a year ago. But the way your whole body immediately was overcome with such calm...

It was like you had been hoping to come here since you'd woken up that morning, and had received the news of your grandfather's admittance to the hospital earlier that night.

But there was no way for Chris to have known that your grandfather had taken you to the aquarium when you were young, telling you about all the fish, helping you make up increasingly bizarre backstories for them.

He just knew you had to leave the house, and go somewhere quiet.

And it was a weekday, so the chances of kids screaming and running through the aquarium hallways were slim to none.

So while you walked in the tinted blue light, eyes scanning over information plaques and watching the multi-coloured aquatic animals lazily drift past the glass panes in a comfortable silence, you reached out to give his wrist a gentle squeeze.

His hands had been sitting in his pockets, giving you your space, but hovering close enough to you to let you know you weren't alone.

"Thank you," you croaked out softly.

When you turned your head to look at him, he had been looking at you, a smile of heartwarming endearance on his face.

If you hadn't been so consumed by the exhibits, you'd have known that he hadn't taken his eyes off you the entire time, and you'd have known he also hadn't stopped smiling. Smiling at you, seeing just how happy you were, even though your eyes were still watery and worry was still thick in your throat.

He slid his hand out of his pocket easily to lace your fingers together, loose enough for you to pull away if you had wanted, but tight enough for you to know that he had no intention of letting go first.

But you didn't pull away, instead strengthening the intwining grasp.

And so you continued, walking through the aquarium in that comfortable silence. And at some point along the way, you found laughter again, pointing out the ugliest fish and saying it was him, only to have him gasp in mock surprise.

"My God, you're such a flirt," he'd say.

And then he'd point out the most beautiful fish he could find.

"That's you."

——————

The second time was a week later.

It was your grandfather again, but the issue had been more serious than any one of your family members initially believed.

You didn't cry this time, but Chris could sense the immeasurable sadness in your posture, the way you sat on the couch, staring blankly ahead.

He came to stand in front of you, and gently knelt down so your eyes would focus on his. Everything about his stature screamed concern as he caressed the hair away from your face.

"Quiet or loud?" He had asked so softly, so simply.

"Loud."

He helped you up, careful with your fragile state. He walked you to your room, into the bathroom, and left you to take a calming shower by yourself.

When you'd gotten out, gotten ready for whatever surprise excursion was next – dressed casually in a t-shirt and jeans, scuffed sneakers on your feet but Chris would claim you looked prettier than he'd ever seen you – Chris was waiting for you by the front door.

You knew better than to ask him where he was taking you this time. And honestly, you were too drained to even muster the words.

You wanted loud, to drown out the misery.

And you got what you wanted.

Chris had taken you to a local pop-up carnival, and in spite of the cloudy weather mirroring your emotion, threatening rain, it was filled with screaming kids and the sounds of joy.

"They come by once every six months," he explained while you waited in the line to enter. "I wanted to take you under different circumstances, but..."

"It's wonderful," you assured him, although your tone didn't sound like it.

He paid your entrance fees – buying a large roll of game tickets for the both of you – and with his hand ghosting over the small of your back, he guided you inside.

Your smile first came when you were on the ferris wheel, and it didn't fade until you were back home, saying good night.

You had spent the whole afternoon there, and even most of the evening, until around ten, when they had begun to take down the stalls and unpitch their tents.

"I'm totally going to crush you at this," you had grinned at him at some game or another. And you did, but only because he wasn't entirely focused on the game, but watching you.

He would tell himself later, as he lay in bed, the reason he couldn't take his eyes off you was because he had wanted to make sure you were alright, and having a good time. But that was a half truth. The full truth was simply because he couldn't stop looking at that smile he loved so much, on the girl he loved more.

A sense of pride would swell in his chest at the very thought of him having played a part in your happiness.

And so you did absolutely crush him. But only because he'd been distracted, and, if truth be told, because he let you.

You held your prize – a hilariously massive teddy bear, drowning you in its fluff – with both arms, laughingly taunting him for his loss, which had got him a much smaller bear (a participation trophy at best) which he carried in one hand.

You had also gone to the circus they had there, your teddy bear seated beside the two of you, taking up a whole seat by itself. You marvelled at the trapeze artists, the charisma of the ringleader, the fire juggler from Prussia, and even found it in yourself to giggle a little at the clowns who you thought you'd be irreparably prejudiced against since you watched Stephen King's It.

And if you were to now scroll back in your camera roll, you would find the hundreds of pictures you had taken together in the hall of mirrors, and the beautiful twinkling lights of the distant city that sparkled like their own constellation from your view at the top of the wheel.

But you wouldn't scroll back now.

Not now.

———————

The third time had just been a bad day.

Nothing set it off, but you'd woken feeling like trash, and it really didn't sit well with you.

It had been post kiss, post Vegas, in that week Chris had returned, and he could feel it the second you stepped into the kitchen.

His usual morning greeting of "good morning, Sleeping Beauty" fell short on his lips.

"Both," you said to him, already knowing the question he was going to ask.

You had managed to get yourself dressed that day, thinking that that one step into productivity would pull you out of your slump. It hadn't. So you told him "both," and he immediately complied.

Setting the mug down, coffee unfinished, he grabbed his keys off the counter. He called for Dodger, and you were in the car again.

This time, you already knew where you were going. It wasn't a difficult puzzle to solve, especially with Dodger there with you.

And your suspicions were confirmed when he pulled up to a remote beach, a hidden gem that only locals would know about.

And in the secluded bay, you walked alongside each other, Dodger prancing ecstatically into the water and darting across the sand.

You watched him greet other dogs, tail wagging. You encountered very few people, giving them a greeting smile in passing.

It really was the perfect mixture of both – serene in the best way possible, ocean waves loud in their crash on the shore.

Chris made no effort to hide his gaze on you this time, aside from a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose, obscuring his eyes.

"Why are you wearing those?" You chuckled.

"What?"

"You're wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. Did it not come with instructions or something?"

"Oh, that," he grinned. "I wear the cap for the aesthetic, sunglasses for the disguise."

You had to reach up on your tippytoes to do what you did next – which, if you were so inclined, could be referred to as theft in the court of law.

You easily snatched the cap off his head, and, dancing out of his reach, put it on. It was a size too big, and dipped into your eyes, making him laugh through the stern demeanor he was jokingly putting on.

"Give that back," he warned. "You're ruining the aesthetic."

You repeated him mockingly, and then he was chasing you down the beach, your squeals of delight interrupting the peace and grabbing Dodger's attention.

You weren't being chased down by one Evans anymore, but two, and hoping to find sanctuary, you made your way into the water.

The sea lapped eagerly at your knees, stray droplets clawing to soak into the frayed denim of your shorts.

Chris had been wearing jeans – not exactly intending for a beach day that morning – and you'd hoped that would be enough to halt the attack.

"If you think that some water is gonna stop me from righting this injustice," he began, equally as out of breath as you were. He had been holding himself back from outright catching up to you, and you knew that – Chris was the epitome of fitness. What did you expect? To outrun Captain America? – "nay, this crime, then you are dead wrong."

"I'm in international waters!" You called back, flicking the peak of his cap teasingly. "I'm out of your jurisdiction!"

"Fuck jurisdiction!" He yelled out, and then he was wading towards you.

Water slowed both of you as you tried to keep out of his grasp, but he had the benefit of being naturally quicker. He had you in a bearhug, trapping your body against his as you struggled to break free.

"Give it back," he playfully growled into your ear.

"Never! You'll never take me alive!" You fought the words out through your laughter.

And then Dodger was there too, all but pushing you over into the shallows of the shore.

You both lay there, allowing yourselves to be drenched, through and through, Dodger licking your faces excitedly.

And as the laughter slowly subsided and the cold the breeze introduced to your wet forms finally registered, you both got up.

"Alright, have your stupid hat back," you sighed, moving to take it off.

He captured your hand in a lightning quick grip, stilling your movements. "Keep it," he smiled. "Looks better on you anyways."

You smiled back sarcastically, rolling your eyes, before pushing him back down onto the sand playfully. "All this?! All this for me to keep it?!"

He propped himself up on his elbows to peer up at you, sunglasses knocked askew.

"Dodger, as my head torturer," you said to the exhilarated mountain of a dog. "I command you to execute this man."

———————

It was hard to watch a strong man crumble, and there were days when that happened, too.

It was the day of Dodger's operation – a hip surgery, nothing too life threatening – but Chris, with all his quick wit and charming smiles, was a shell of himself.

Of course, you were worried too. But Chris needed you more than you needed him, and so, in the mournful silence of the waiting room, you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He flinched a little at the sudden contact, but didn't pull away.

"Quiet or loud?"

In all definitions of the word – in the hour he had been in that waiting room, leg bouncing – he never thought he could hate quiet as much as he did now.

"Loud."

It took some effort to tug him to his feet, his body sluggish with worry. But he was up, and you were guiding him to the door, leaving your number with the vet secretary for any updates.

You didn't want Chris to be worrying and checking his phone every five seconds, because you knew how that dread felt. No, he needed a distraction.

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

You had never understood why Chris enjoyed doing that to you, never telling you where he was going to take you, but with the thrill of him not knowing, you got it. Spontaneity ran in his veins, and he didn't press like you so often did in the past.

You had been in L.A. long enough to find your own little secret spots, and to know exactly where you were without much guidance.

And if you were being honest with yourself, you didn't really know where you were taking him until your legs had absentmindedly taken you to an old vintage diner you knew had once been the talk of the town – filled to the brim with hipsters – before once again slipping into obscurity.

It was late into the night, but the diner was open 24/7, and you knew Chris hadn't eaten in a while.

When the bell jangled upon your entry, the waiters jolted, having taken to sitting down in the vacancy of their restaurant.

A few customers lingered here and there, club goers drunkenly scarfing down fries to try and sober up a little before hitting the next party and insomniacs downing their third cup of coffee that hour.

But for the most part it was empty, and, unfortunately, quiet.

"You here for karaoke night?" A bubblegum popping waitress asked. It really felt like the cliché, but it weirdly added to the charm. She stood, perched on the rubber stop of her roller skates, waiting for your response.

"Oh, hell yes we are," you grinned.

She took you to a table situated in front of a makeshift stage, a jukebox-karaoke machine hybrid standing proudly to one side.

Chris sat down, anxiety still heavy in his bones. You quickly ordered – two burgers, and a milkshake to share – before you were shedding your jacket and making your way on stage.

You didn't care about making a fool of yourself. The only thing you cared about was seeing Chris smile again, and in that moment, you'd do almost anything to make that happen.

You hummed in thought as you perused the songs available to you. You didn't expect much from the collection, given that the whole vibe of the diner was 50's through to early 90's. A total pocket dimension in time.

A song caught your eye and you grinned, selecting it immediately. Chris didn't want quiet – and you were going to be the loudest bitch here.

You could hear the whir of the machine as it came to life and you made your way to the vintage microphone. It crackled and whined when you pulled it closer to yourself.

You had caught the eye of the sobering-but-still-quite-drunk party animals, and they had come over to investigate.

"Sorry," you winced, voice booming on the mic. "This song goes out to my good friend Chris."

And then the music started to play, and he groaned. He knew the song decently enough, it having been one of your most replayed disco bops of the week.

"This is Sunny, by Boney M," you said over the intro. "Hope you enjoy."

And then you started to sing, intentionally bad at first to wheedle that cry strained laugh from Chris, and then finishing off in that voice he knew you had.

Every time the song mentioned "Sunny," you'd look directly at him, giving him an exaggerated wink. And at "I love you," you'd point at him, smile growing on your face as you danced ridiculously with the mic.

He was laughing, whole body shaking at how over-the-top you were being.

And when the song wrapped, you whooped into the mic, feedback squealing. "Thank you, everybody!" you panted.

The club goers applauded, screaming their drunken praises.

"YES, QUEEN!"

"YOU GO, BABY!"

"FUCK YES!"

"BEYONCÉ WHO?!"

That last one earned some shocked gasps and scolding. "Woah, dude. Too far."

"Thank you, thank you," you grinned, feeling alive. You could see the laughter starting to fade from Chris again, and so you moved to put on another song.

"This one," you whispered into the mic, "is a duet. So, please. Good friend Chris, wouldst thou riseth to the occasion?"

He shook his head, cheeks flushing at being called out.

"Oh, come on," you whined, the music already beginning to play out the intro. "For me?"

He narrowed his eyes at you, already smilingly weighing the pros and cons of his embarrassment. You batted your lashes. "I know you can sing, Evans. Don't start this shy shit now."

"COME ON, CHRIS!"

"YEAH, COME ON CHRIS!"

"Give the people what they want," you wiggled your brows.

He shrugged, muttering "fuck it," and reluctantly rising from his seat, he hopped on stage with one jump.

"You were working as a waitress at a cocktail bar, when I met you," he started singing flatly, eyes on yours, letting you know how much he didn't want to be up there. You arched a brow, pushing him let loose.

Slowly, with the encouragement of your smile, and the cheers from the drunk, he lost himself in the performance of "Don't You Want Me" by The Human League, even taking to dancing at your part of the duet.

And that's how you spent the rest of your waiting period – singing bad karaoke, shovelling food into your mouths between songs, and returning the favour of cheering on the clubbers when they had resolved to stay and sing because they decided the best time they were probably going to have that night was in that stuffy little diner on a street they probably would've walked right past on a regular day.

And when your phone rang for Dodger, you paid your bill, leaving a hefty tip in apology to the staff for having to endure your wailing. You said your goodbyes to your newfound friends of the night.

And Dodger was fine when you took him home.

And Chris was smiling again.

———————

You couldn't bare to dwell on the second time you took it upon yourself to cheer up Chris Evans, because the fact of the matter was, that just reminiscing about those other four had you muffling sobs all over again.

You thought about that day – the road back from Vegas, pulling off to Route 66, taking him to the food truck park – and the alcohol you urgently gulped down did nothing to numb you.

You had often looked back on those memories fondly. But now it was a gaping hole in your chest.

You were sitting on the balcony, overlooking the beach. In the distance, under moonlight, you saw a couple walking hand-in-hand, and you knew it was them.

"Thought I'd find you out here," a familiar voice said. It wasn't Chris', and that had you swigging another shot from the near empty bottle in your lap. "You holding up okay?"

"Ask me again in a month," you stated blankly. You hadn't even moved to address the newcomer, nor had you shifted over to make room for him. He sat all the same. "If you want to put a number to how long it takes to move on, ask Chris. The answer is a month."

It had taken a month for him to move from you to Lily. But it wasn't exactly like any of you had made your feelings and intentions known, aside from a kiss that you had claimed you'd been drunk for, and a confirmation of friendship.

If you let yourself think about it too long – which you had, on more than one occasion, this one specifically – it was your fault.

Sebastian reached over and gently pried the bottle from your iron grip. He looked at how much was left, surprised. And still, you gazed numbly ahead.

"This is how day one looks, huh?" He attempted a joke. Even he knew it fell flat, and instead took a sip to ease himself.

"The alcohol content in that bottle is directly proportionate to how many fucks I have left to give," you shrugged, voice monotonous.

"How much more are you going to put yourself through before you've had enough?"

"I've had enough," you sighed. "But I'll probably suffer a little more."

"You have more strength than I do, then."

His sympathetic arm wrapped around you, and you melted into his side, the comfort another person brought acting as a placebo salve to the pain. Like an ice pack on a shattered femur.

And you realised why you were so sad. Those memories meant nothing to you now.

They had lost their meaning because he wasn't there with you, on this roof, asking you that question when you needed it asked the most. Quiet or loud.

He wasn't there, and the taste of whiskey was chased away by ash.

[derireo]

sad little pair ↦ itaru & izumi

cw: high school au, a story spoiler or two from kniroun. angst? hurt/no comfort?

"Hey." Izumi gently pokes Itaru's arm with the button of her pen to catch his wandering attention. It's currently study hall, but Izumi can't focus, and her friend doesn't seem too keen on doing work either.

Her prodding at his arm makes Itaru look up from the intricate wood patterns on his desk. His overgrown fringe falls over his eyes, but he can still see Izumi.

He rests his cheek in his palm, gaze staring at her through his fingerprint stained glasses. "What."

His tone is uncaring, but Izumi knows he's just bad at his delivery. She quietly gets up from her chair to stand beside Itaru's desk, and she crouches, hands gripping the edge of his table.

Her eyes are sparkling, albeit dimly. It looks like she has an idea in mind.

"Let's dip." She murmurs with a little upwards tilt to the corner of her mouth. "I wanna go home."

Itaru lazily nods his head in agreement. "Same."

Izumi's light up just a bit more, and Itaru feels kind of happy although he was barely able to lift her mood.

"Let's go at lunch." Itaru suggests to which Izumi smiles.

“‘Kay.”

"Sometimes looking at you makes me feel sad." Izumi mumbles softly, sitting cross legged above Itaru's head as he lies on the floor with a handheld game console in his grip.

She says that sentence with a barely amused smile, but it only makes Itaru scoff half-heartedly. He takes a glance up at her towering figure as he feels her fingers brush back his messy fringe.

"Then stop looking at me." He shrugs.

His tone is indifferent, but Izumi knows that his response is lighthearted. She smiles a little more. Readjusts his glasses for him.

"But looking at you can also make me happy." She urges, just in case there was a little part of Itaru that was annoyed with her comment. Izumi's fingers help keep Itaru's hair away from his face as he plays his game. "I feel less lonely.”

Itaru looks at her again, clearer this time now that he paused his game to pay more attention to the conversation they're having. "Well. We're friends.”

He puts his handheld console on his chest, screen down. Folds his hands above his stomach as Izumi playfully flattens his fringe to cover his vision.

"Yeah." She says after a pause. "But sometimes I feel like you get tired of me. My presence can be a bit much. I know.”

Itaru scoffs. "What presence? And if I was tired of you, I'd have left long ago." His voice tells Izumi that she’d gone and upset him.

"Where is this coming from, Tachibana?" Itaru asks her. His pink irises glimmer in the lowlight of the living room as he searches Izumi's face for any non-verbal cues. He doesn't find any

"I don't know." Izumi shrugs. She fixes his fringe and moves to shove her hands between her thighs to warm them. "The night makes me think.”

Her expression is slightly bashful, but it doesn't endear Itaru one bit. He crosses an arm beneath his head and gently reaches out to poke her cheek with his hand

"And it's still the afternoon. Stop thinking so hard.”

And, well... Yeah. Okay. She can probably do that.

Izumi turns her head to look out the window of her living room and smiles blankly. She nods in acknowledgement, looking back at Itaru with an eerily unfocused gaze.

"Yeah..." She trails off slowly.

It makes Itaru want to sigh.

Her mom never really liked showing her face when Izumi was around. And when they did end up seeing each other at home, Izumi's mom wouldn't stay around long enough to hold a conversation.

She'd leave the room if Izumi entered, and sometimes she'd even leave the house if she found no reason to stay.

This started around the time when Izumi's father left, so really. Izumi was just stuck.

Stuck being alone.

Itaru understands why she's being like this right now, but it still makes him wonder: Doesn't she get tired of feeling this way?

"Looking at me now, how are you feeling?" Itaru asks quietly. He watches her movements through his overgrown fringe and he can tell that she's slowly beginning to smile again.

"...I'm happy." She murmurs.

"Less lonely?" He asks another question.

"A little." Izumi frowns. Her brown eyes meet Itaru's, and she reaches out to lightly pat her palm against his cheek. "You're lonely too."

Her gentle touch isn't enough to quell the annoyance that flares inside of Itaru when she points out his similar problem. He still tries to keep his ill-temper at bay, though. For the sake of Izumi.

He blinks his eyes twice, thrice. Gazes up at the ceiling with pursed lips and an indifferent hum.

"I don't think I am." He argues, voice quiet.

It makes Izumi smile again. It's very much like him to pretend and deny things about himself.

"You and I both know that we're hanging around each other more because that guy is gone."

The mention of 'that guy' makes Itaru sip in a quick breath. His pink irises grow sharp as he looks at Izumi who was staring back; looking innocent as if she had done nothing wrong.

"Don't mention him." Itaru says lowly.

He didn't really care about the incident that had happened weeks ago anymore, but just remembering that he was friends with that type of person was something Itaru wanted to forget.

"If only he hadn't pulled that stunt, I'm sure you'd be with him instead of me right now." Izumi muses; observant as always.

And well, she's probably right. At this time of day, he'd usually be in the classroom with his 'friend', talking about Knights of the Round Table. Itaru only talks to Izumi after school, when he walks her home or when he stays over to study.

It's rare for him to be with Izumi for longer than three hours a day, actually. So it's funny. Funny how Itaru doesn't even know if he considers Izumi a friend.

A real one.

Does she consider him a friend?

Is she lying when she says he makes her feel less lonely or is it true?

And why does it feel like he's being selfish?

"Do you feel like I'm only using you as a substitute for his absence?" Itaru asks after a while of silence between the two students, and he frowns, vision briefly going out of focus due to Izumi going back to playing with his fringe.

He gives Izumi time to mull over her answer to his question, but Itaru's only given a shrug.

"I guess, but it doesn't bug me."  She starts, pinching a few strands of his hair between her fingers. "I'm a nice replacement, don't you think?"

Her teasing smile is what barely makes Itaru chuckle, but the young boy goes back to his normal brooding.

"I'm sorry."

The apology makes the girl pause in her messing around with his hair and frowns down at him. She couldn’t see the hundreds of thoughts that ran through his head, but it felt like she still saw right through him. "...Why?"

"I didn't mean to cast you aside." He mutters quietly and scratches his cheek, eyes darting between his friend's face and the ceiling of her living room. "I left you alone for too long."

"It's okay. You two were always happy when talking about Kniroun." Izumi shrugs. She doesn't really understand why he's feeling bad.

She knows that Itaru feels more comfortable around Tonooka than he feels with her so how can she blame him?

Itaru doesn't want to think about Tonooka. "I should have kept you some more company, at least."

"It's okay. I'm fine with the quiet walks home."

"Izumi. I don't... Ugh, I—I don't want you to say that." Itaru grasps for straws at this point. "You need to be more vocal with your own thoughts, wants, and needs."

"Well... If anything. I just want us to stay friends. For a long time." Her wish is simple and barely satisfies Itaru's need to feel less guilty, but he doesn't argue.

He gathers the courage to look at Izumi again and feels himself falter when he notices her smile.

"Do you think we can manage that?" She asks him, innocent.

And don't get mad at him, but the question almost had Itaru laughing at the absurdity.

People don't stay friends after high school.

People in high school aren't worth keeping as friends.

Itaru doesn't want to make a promise he can't keep.

"I don't know." He says honestly, lightly brushing away Izumi's hands from his face. "Seems a little difficult."

"Since our interests don't really align, right?" She says what Itaru had been thinking and the blond frowns.

Izumi smiles kindly, not at all upset. Of course, she knew. Itaru, busy with his games, busy with his studies, busy with anything else that didn’t pique Izumi’s interest. He sees her the same way; busy with acting, busy with working, busy with self-loathing.

None of that interested Itaru just as much as Izumi to him.

Funny, that, although they were completely different, they were also quite similar.

Lonely. Closed off. Acting like someone they’re not.

“I’m surprised we’re still friends.” Izumi muses, brown eyes staring straight through Itaru as his eyes looked up at her ceiling.

“We tolerate each other, if anything.” He says, avoids returning Izumi’s stare. His throat bobs, and suddenly there’s a vine of guilt climbing up his spine and wrapping around his neck.

He’s making it sound like he doesn’t consider her a friend; disregarding everything he said earlier in their conversation.

But, after Tonooka...he isn’t sure if he even wants one anymore.

There’s still a lot more he can lose if Izumi turns on him too.

Their silence stretches on for what feels like hours after Itaru’s last statement, Izumi’s eyes unblinking and void of any emotion. She isn’t sure if he’s pushing her away, having experienced much harsher treatment from her mother, but she prepares her heart for the icy hurt that would soon come.

Itaru’s uncomfortable by her stare. Almost like she’s staring at the floor and not him.

Almost like she’s choosing not to see him.

“How am I making you feel now?” He asks, quiet, as to not startle her.

Her unfocused eyes revert themselves at the question, and thankfully, he’s in her sights again. Itaru lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and runs a hand through his hair.

“Um.” She starts, wringing her hands in her lap. Her lips are red with how much she’s been biting them, and she looks almost conflicted. Like she didn’t want to tell him the truth.

Itaru reaches out, tenderly brushing his fingers against her cheek. “You can tell the truth.”

She barely registers his touch; something that doesn’t happen often. Izumi loves it when he initiates physical affection, but it seems that she doesn’t even notice this time around.

“Lonely.” She says, softly. “You want to leave.”

Itaru flinches at the sudden warmth of her tears dripping onto his fingers, and his breath catches when he sees that she still isn’t blinking.

Her face doesn’t move a muscle although there are tears leaking from her eyes and Itaru has to drop his hand from her face so that they would stop sliding down his arm.

Her voice is oddly calm, void of the sadness that her eyes show and Itaru sits up with an anxious feeling digging into his stomach.

“I didn’t say that.” He croaks. There’s a fire crawling up his throat that makes him struggle to speak, the burn making him stumble over his words as he reaches for Izumi’s shoulders to pull her limp body into his chest.

“I just—I-I...I don’t know if I can promise that I’ll stay.” He says truthfully, but still winces at the words that brought no comfort.

“It’s okay.” She speaks into Itaru’s shoulder, his arms wrapping around her.

Her nose stings and brings a fresh wave of tears to pool in her eyes. She laughs it off though, albeit weakly, and lets her face twist into a pained expression when she knows Itaru isn’t looking at her.

“It was fun being your friend.” She whispers, lifting a heavy hand to comfort Itaru by patting his back.

As they say. Nothing lasts forever.

[asian-hero]

Too Impatient to Wait Another Lifetime (2/3)

A/N: I’m not going to lie, but the reason I didn't post this for a while is because the last one did so poorly compared to my other fics, so I figured that no one would want to read this anymore :(

But I truly love this story, and this is probably my favorite part that I wrote for this, so I wanted to share it anyways :) Welcome to the medieval/fantasy era

Pairing: Prince!Todoroki/Bard!Reader

Summary: The idea of soulmates is often one that’s heavily debated over. Some believe in the idea that there’s one special person out there for everyone, whereas others believe that it’s near impossible for just one person to be your “perfect match.” While you can’t necessarily see if someone is your soulmate, when you finally find that person, you get a feeling of euphoria that you’ve never experienced before. Unfortunately for you, someone must find it hilarious to constantly separate you from your soulmate every single time, in every single lifetime. So, what happens when you realize that you don’t want to wait any longer for your happily ever after?

Words: 8,367

If there was one thing that Prince Todoroki Shouto hated, more than the weighty title at the beginning of his name, more than the isolation he felt from being the heir to the throne, it would be the seemingly pointless balls his father would insist upon.

In all honesty, he knew why his father would put on these lavish events. Since Shouto was the crown prince, only due to a falling out between his father and his two eldest brothers, the fate of the Todoroki lineage had also rested upon his shoulders, and in order to keep their family tree growing, he needed a wife. However, since he was never allowed outside the walls of the castle, these balls were put in place in order to find the most “suitable” wife for Shouto. 

Suitable for his father, of course.

So, Shouto would hold his tongue, not daring to argue with his father’s wishes, though he wished nothing more than to just lay low for one night, to at least pretend that he was a normal person, one who wouldn’t be forced into a loveless marriage. Instead, he’d quietly submit to the demands of the King, sitting on a throne next to his mother, watching as lord’s and lady’s danced around, mingling with one another. He did his best to keep in the disgust whenever a prominent lord would step up, their daughter standing behind them, and attempt to sell the royal family on one of their own, as if their daughters were simply tools used to gain an entry into a world they desperately wanted to be apart of. Every single time he’d come face to face with a desperate lord, he wished that he could just give them his status, with no charge. After all, they seemed to want it more than he did.

It was safe to say that Todoroki Shouto hated balls. He found them to be tedious and repetitive.

However, tonight was different.

Not fundamentally, no. Shouto still sat upon his throne, doing his best to look somewhat interested as his father droned on and on about some girl from a dukedom not too far from them. As his eyes drifted from person to person on the dance floor, he found himself pausing when his eyes land upon a woman dancing around while playing the lute, singing a lovely tune that carried throughout the entire ballroom. She was accompanied by a few other musicians, who seemed almost as jolly as she was. Shouto wasn’t quite sure what drew him to her. Perhaps it was her melodic voice, or maybe it was the semblance of freedom that her entire person exuded. She both irritated him and intrigued him, and that mix of emotions was what made his feet move towards you, seemingly not caring to hear what his father had to say for his sudden movement. He wasn’t able to make it far, though, for as soon as he entered the dance floor, he was met with a few women, some of which he recognized belonged to powerful dukedoms, who begged him for a dance. Even as he tried to step away politely, trying to get over towards the bard who captured his attention, they still persisted. He did his best to try and escape them without seeming like an asshole, but it was becoming more and more difficult.

Across the dance floor, singing the last note of the last song before intermission, stood you, a slightly goofy smile etched across your face. Coming down from the high of your latest performance, you quickly gave a bow, though you doubted that anyone noticed, and walked over to your group, giving out words of encouragement and praise, as most of them had never preformed at such a large gathering before, let alone a ball for the King. You laughed along with your group, listening to the newer ones ramble on about how grand the ball looks, how lucky you all were to be in the presence of such high ranking people.

As you continued to converse with those around you, you found yourself looking over towards the sea of people, who had now taken a pause in their dancing, opting to talk amongst themselves. Though they never spared even a glance at you or your friends, nor would they ever stoop as low as to talk to the likes of you, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth at the thought that they all had danced to your music. Not some fancy, uptown musicians that the King could’ve easily hired, but you and your traveling group of musicians. Though you tried not to get a big head about it, you found yourself welling up with pride.

You were so absorbed into your own world that you didn’t notice the group of women hounding a man behind you, slowing inching closer and closer to your group. By the time you finally noticed you were just moving to grab your lute, moving to get back into position, but it was too late. As you straightened up, putting on your smiling persona, you felt someone collide with you, pushing you forward and nearly causing you to trip over yourself. The sound of your lute crashing against the floor was drowned out by the chattering of the crowd, but you could practically feel the anger rolling off of you. Whipping around, you were fully prepared to give whoever bumped into you a piece of your mind, telling them that they owed you a new instrument. However, as soon as you eyes locked with the cold, heterochromatic gaze of the Prince, you found your words catching in your throat. 

Rather than giving the long lecture you’d mentally prepared, you instead bowed slightly, doing your best to remember what to do in the event of meeting a royal. “Your Highness, I apologize—“

As you looked up, you found yourself staring at a rather harsh glare from the Prince, one that made shivers go down your spine. Standing back up, you met his gaze, not backing down. In that moment, you could’ve sworn that you saw a hint of surprise flicker in his eyes, but as soon as one of the lady’s beside him spoke, the hint of emotion was gone, and was replaced by the usual cold aura he exuded.

“Oh my goodness, Prince Shouto, are you okay?” One of the women asked, sending you an unamused stare before going back to her mock fretting, “Did she hurt you?”

At the subtle shake of his head, you wanted to snort in response. After all, how the hell could you hurt him? He was the one who bumped into you. Just as you were about to excuse yourself, to escape to your friends who had suddenly disappeared at the sight of the Prince, you heard him clear his throat, signaling that he wanted your attention. Turning back to face him, you gave him a questioning look. 

Strutting up to you, he watched you with detached, emotionless eyes, and, for a moment, you felt your normally bubbly and carefree persona disappear. Now, all you felt like was a child who was getting scolded.

“Make sure you watch where you’re going, next time.” With that, he turned away from you, but you weren’t about to let that sit.

“Watch where I’m going?” You asked, making sure that you heard him right.

When he didn’t respond, you felt yourself growing livid. How dare he blame you when he was the one who bumped into you? Even if that wasn’t the case, in the end he was fine, and you were without your lute. Stomping over to him, you pointed an accusatory finger at him.

“I’ll have you know that you were the one who bumped into me,” You hissed, making sure to keep your voice quiet enough to not cause a scene, “Just because you’re some ‘high and mighty’ Prince doesn’t mean that you’re not above an apology.”

Shoving your broken lute into his face, you gave a mocking smile, doing your best to keep your anger at bay. “You owe me a new lute, and I expect that on top of my pay for tonight,”

Huffing, you stormed off to where the rest of your band were, realization of what you just said not quite hitting you. As you went off, your back turned towards the Prince, you didn’t get to see the absolute shock on his face, nor did you see the way he held off the women beside him, telling them that it was fine, and there was no need to cause a fuss over your outburst. Once you were over to your group, you were greeted with the shocked faces of your friends, some of them were focused on the broken lute in your hand, while the others were more focused on you. 

“Are you,” One of them started, reaching out a hand towards you, “Are you alright?”

You gave a hum of affirmation, easing some of their worries. “Don’t worry about me, my lute broke my fall,”

Once you were able to calm them down, another one piped up. “What did you say to the Prince? You looked pretty agitated,”

You waved your hand, trying to dispel their worries once more. “It wasn’t that bad, all I said was that just because he’s royalty doesn’t mean that he’s absolved from a simple apology. I mean, he’s the one who bumped into me.”

While your friends continued to stare at you incredulously, you couldn’t help but wonder just what they were thinking. 

It took you exactly two minutes to realize what you had just said, and to whom. 

Gasping, you put a hand up to your mouth, ducking your head as if that would hide you from the royals. You honestly don’t know what overcame you, all you know is that you were angry because he had the nerve to say that you were the one in the wrong, and that didn’t sit right with you. But now, oh god, you were surprised that he even let you walk away from him, after that outburst you had. While there weren’t stories about any sort of cruelness the Crown Prince had, there certainly were tales of how cold and dismissive he could be, and you certainly didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that.

Moving to whisper to one of your friends, you told them that you needed to leave, preferably at that moment. Having seen what just occurred, they ushered you to the door, telling you that it was probably for the best. So, as you made through the shadows of the magnificent ballroom, you made sure to stay hidden away from any prying eyes, just in case anyone saw their entertainment run away like prey from predator. Thankfully for you, your group seemed to distract all the nobility, playing another song as you left.

Turning around one last time, you found yourself locking eyes with the Prince once more, and, if you were a betting woman, you’d say that he was looking at you with both curiosity and, a bit of regret? It was a bit unnerving, to be stared down like that. However, remembering all of the times you’ve incorrectly guessed when gambling, you immediately crush that idea. There was no way he was looking at you with anything but contempt. Exiting the room, you made your way out of the castle and into the chilly air of the night, praying that you’d never have to see that Prince again.

Unfortunately for you, fate seemed to enjoy toying with you.

A few days after the royal ball, you found yourself in one of the dingiest taverns in the kingdom. While, of course, it wasn’t necessarily the best looking, you had to admit that both the patrons and the drinks were what kept you coming back for more. The unassuming tavern had become a home of sorts for you, somewhere that you could walk in to and be recognized immediately, greeted with a warm welcome. It was quite possibly your favorite place to preform, if not for the company, then because of the tips you’d receive.

Though you still mourned your dearly departed lute, the instrument that had been with you since you first started out, you were thankful to have backup options in case something awful happened. So, as you moved around the bar, singing some tune that lifted the mood of all the patrons, your fingers danced across your lyre, playing a melodic song that captivated all those around you. It was nice to have a change in pace, and although you would’ve much preferred the instrument you were most comfortable with, it was a pleasant change to hear the soft and angelic plucks of your lyre.

Dancing around the tavern, you gave flirtatious looks at the patrons who seemed to have the most money, giving them a wink as they tucked a few coins into the small bag at your side. Continuing to move around, you could vaguely hear the soft click of the front doors opening, indicating that yet another person had entered. Though you paid no mind, as you were wrapped up in your song, with your voice carrying an alluring tune, one that both put life into the bar, and seemingly had every person in there wrapped around your finger. As you turned around, your fingers still moving across the strings, you found yourself eyeing up a person you’d never seen here before. 

Their figure was cladded in a black cloak, with the hood pulled up, covering most of their face. The clothes they wore beneath were hard to depict, but from what you could make out, it seemed as though this person was either a thief or a well off worker, as they seemed too nice for the typical patron. Eyes trailing up to their face, you couldn’t really see anything above their nose, but one thing that stuck out to you was the marking on the left side of their face, the scarred flesh stopping mid-cheek. For a brief moment, your mind wondered if the person was actually the prince, though the rational side of your brain told you that the idea was ridiculous, it’d be stupid of the prince to come here, of all places. He’d certainly have a death wish coming here, if not for the thieves who would want to either hold him for ransom, then the common folk who’d want to kill him due to their hatred of his father. However, as your song ended, your eyes finally connected with the mysterious stranger.

A mixed match of steel gray and a cool blue eyes had locked with yours.

Feeling your heart freeze in your chest, you quickly gave a bow to the audience, quickly glancing from side to side to see if anyone else had noticed the dumb prince. When you realized that no one had noticed, you quickly walked over to the hooded man, slamming your hand down onto counter beside him. He seemed startled at your sudden aggression, but as you smiled sweetly to the bartender nearby, he allowed himself to relax, though you could tell that he was still on edge. 

“Can I get two pints of ale?” You asked, though it was more of a statement as you threw your coins onto the counter, nodding your head as the bartender went to pour your drinks.

Once you had the two mugs, you looked over at your new companion, nodding your head over to the most secluded area, telling him to follow. Walking towards the table in the corner, you found yourself blocking the prince’s body with your own, making sure that no one else figured out who he was. As you two slid into your seats, you pushed one of the mugs towards him, taking a long sip from yours.

Letting out a long sigh, you put your drink down, crossing your arms across your chest. “What are you doing here?”

He simply looked down at the drink set in front of him, his fingers tapping on the sides of the mug. When he didn’t give you an answer, you leaned in closer, your face certainly too close to be comfortable, especially knowing that the man sat in front of you was royalty. “Not going to answer me? Should I just assume that you were just wandering around town and you happened to stumble into any tavern you could find?”

He shook his head, his eyes finally meeting yours once more. As you continued to look at him with confusion swirling in your eyes, he bit his cheek, figuring out what exactly he should say.

“You said that just because I’m a ‘high and mighty’ prince, it doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t apologize for my actions,”

At that, you could feel your cheeks heating up, the mortification of what you’d said coming back full force. Taking a deep breath, you attempted to calm yourself, putting on a look of pure neutrality.

“So, you’re here to berate me for it? Have me arrested?” You truly shouldn’t have this much confidence, but you couldn’t help yourself. Being in your second home made you feel more comfortable, and you knew that those around you would help you out in a heartbeat. 

However, it didn’t seem to be necessary, as the prince shook his head, and it was then you realized that he seemed to have a rather awkward look on his face.

“No, that’s not it at all,” He started, his hands gripping onto his drink tighter, “I wanted to say that you were right,”

You blinked, not quite sure if you heard him correctly. “Pardon?”

“No one has ever been as straightforward as you. I know that I come off as cold and abrasive, and there are times when I truly mean to be. However, I shouldn’t have been so rude to you that night when I was the one at fault,” Staring at you with an all too sincere look, he continued, “So, I’d like to apologize for my actions,”

You continued to look at him with a blank look on your face. It was still baffling to you that, firstly, the prince came to perhaps one of the shadiest taverns in the kingdom, just to apologize to you, and secondly, the fact that he seemed to be an entirely different person that the last time you saw him, even though it hadn’t been long. The prince you saw at the ball was stuck up and rude, but the man you saw before you looked uncomfortable and unsure of himself. 

Clearing your throat, you averted your eyes from his, taking in the lively seen before you. “How did you even know I’d be here?”

“I asked your bandmates,” He said simply, as if it were the easiest answer in the world.

Your lips quirked downwards, and you made a mental note to scold them afterwards. After all, what would’ve happened if he wasn’t as kind as he was, then they’d be responsible for ether your  banishment or your arrest. 

Leaning back into your chair, your eyes flickered across his form, still unable to truly process the person in front of you. While you thought it was sweet of him to come all this way to formally apologize to you, you couldn’t help but think of how stupid he was, wandering around town all by himself. What would’ve happened if someone else were to have recognized him? 

Deciding to voice your worries, you spoke, “So, what in the world made you think that coming to the shadiest part of the kingdom all by yourself was a good idea?”

He tilted his head, and it took all of your self restraint to not sigh once more. “I’m not alone,” Pointing towards another cloaked figure hanging by the door, he smiled, “I had one of my trusted knights come with me,”

Before you could even breathe, he glanced over to his side, “Besides, I figured that I should give you this in person,”

Eyes following to where the prince had looked, you finally noticed the rather fancy looking lute sitting by his side, and you felt your jaw drop. Snapping back up to look at him, you gasped.

“Your Highness, I can’t—“

“Shouto.”

When you gave him the most incredulous look, he simply shrugged, taking a sip of his beverage, “We’re far from the castle, there’s no need to call me ‘Your Highness,’ and besides,” he started, a small smirk playing on his lips, “Weren’t you the one who said I shouldn’t bring attention to myself?”

You bit your tongue, doing your best to hold in a smart remark. While it may be true that the two of you are far away from his castle walls, it didn’t mean that you were safe from punishment should he see fit. So, you approached the situation cautiously, making sure that you were clear in your response.

“Shouto,” You started, and you were fairly certain that you could see his eyes light up, “You cannot just show up to give me an expensive lute just because your conscious caught up with you. In fact, you shouldn’t even be here at all,”

You could see his face fall for a second, but before you could even try to soften your original statement, his blank mask was put back on, his lips forming a thin line.

“I came here out of my own volition, only to fulfill a request that you made that night,” Leaning in a bit closer, he raised a brow, “Or do you not remember demanding me to give you a new one?”

Though you usually prided yourself on being able to keep calm in some of the most stressful situations, you couldn’t help the nervous feeling situating itself in the pit of your stomach. After all, it wasn’t every day that you were inches away from the prince’s face. 

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you spoke once more, “I said many things out of anger, but I didn’t expect you to take that part seriously.”

He didn’t answer you with words, instead bringing the instrument over the table and setting it beside you, to which you immediately pushed it back towards him, your eyes unrelenting. For a few more seconds, the two of you found yourselves pushing the lute back and forth, neither of you wanting to give in.

After what had to have been the fifth or sixth time, the prince sighed, pushing it back towards you for the final time. “I don’t understand why you’re so adamant about not taking it, but you may as well just accept it. After all, you’ll be needing it for the next ball,”

Your head jolted up, eyes boring into his, “Can you repeat that?”

The prince’s eyes lit up once again in mischief, though he did his best to mute his facial expressions. “There’s a ball next month, and I’ve already told my father that you’ll be playing once more.”

“Are you serious—“

“So I suggest that you take the lute and start practicing, perhaps learn a few new songs before the ball,” Standing up, he threw one last smirk in your direction, “Oh, and if I see that you don’t have that lute, I’ll be sure to get you an even more costly one.”

With that, the prince made his way over to his knight, and the two of them exited the tavern, leaving you to wonder just what the hell happened.

So, after a month had passed, and, though you detested it, you learned a few more songs, you found yourself coming in contact with Shouto Todoroki once more. Only this time, rather than being able to blend into the crowd, simply singing and dancing your heart out, you felt a pair of mismatched eyes watching your every move, and, if you were lucky, you could make out the slightest hint of a smile on his features whenever you met his eyes.

Similarly to the last ball, Shouto refused to dance with anyone, choosing to sit upon his throne as he watched the lords and lady’s dance to their heart’s content, and, just like last time, he sat through the multitudes of lords offering their daughters to his father with the promises of alliances that he truly didn’t care for, nor did he need. 

However, instead of simply going through the motions, wanting nothing more for the ball to end, Shouto instead focused his sights on you, watching with a small smile on his face as you danced around from person to person. Instead of feeling a sense of resentment towards you like last time, he instead found great joy and entertainment in watching you preform, and he especially enjoyed it whenever the two of you made eye contact, only for you to turn your head, your entire body screaming with embarrassment. Though he wasn’t quite sure why, he could feel his heart speed up whenever you’d give him a subtle wave, a small enough gesture that no one else but him caught. He didn’t know why his face would flush at the sight of you smiling and laughing, or why he wished that he could be the one who made you look like that.

While the prince continued to watch you intently, you found yourself playing your last few songs, your fingers plucking the strings of the lute gifted to you by the stubborn prince. You did have to admit, the instrument he had made for you seemed to be made out of the finest materials, and it had a lovely sound. 

As the night grew longer, and you were on your final song, you found yourself growing more bold in your movements, singing even louder and even dancing alongside some of the nobles in the room, whom seem to have enjoyed the show you put on for them. Singing the last few bars of the song, you twisted your body to face the prince, and, with an unfounded surge of confidence filling your body, you gave him a sly wink before bowing to the crowd, taking your leave.

Since you promptly turned around and walked over to your bandmates, you didn’t notice the surprised look developing on the prince’s face. If you’d waited for just a moment longer, you would’ve seen the dramatic shift in color from his usually pale face to a red that could rival the shade of his hair. You would’ve also noticed, had you waited, that Shouto promptly excused himself, an action that wasn’t too unusual for the party hating prince, walking quickly down the steps and out the door in order to reach you.

Just before you could head back into the carriage the King had sent for you, you felt a hand tug at your wrist, preventing you from moving further. Whipping your head around, you made eye contact with Shouto, who also seemed to be just as shocked as you due to his actions. Raising a brow, you stepped closer to the man, giving him a quizzical look.

“Your Highness,” You started, glancing down at where his hand held you, “Is there something wrong?”

At the sound of your voice, Shouto released you from his grip, moving to rest his hands by his sides, “Ah, no, everything’s fine,”

Nodding your head slowly, you took a cautious step towards the carriage, not quite sure if you were dismissed. When you noticed the downcast look upon the prince’s face, you bit your lip, weighing your options carefully. Deciding that you may as well gamble with fate, you spoke up:

“It was nice to see you again, Shouto,” You started, giggling as the prince looked up at you with shock, “Even though it was entirely your fault for this,”

With that, you stepped one step further, grabbing one of his hands in yours and pressing a soft kiss to the back of his hand before waving goodbye, entering your carriage. As you entered, you watched the prince’s face turn from one of shock to one you couldn’t quite read. Just as the carriage was about to take off, with you wondering if you’d insulted him just now, you watched in surprise as he clambered into the seat beside you, shutting the door quickly behind him.

“What are you doing?” You hissed, looking out the window to see if anyone had seen him. 

Luckily for you, the only person who had seen the prince enter in with you was your coachman, and you supposed you could pay him off to keep his mouth shut. However, that still left you with the confusion as to why the prince jumped in beside you. As you continued to stare at him for an answer, he began to stumble over his words, something so uncharacteristically charming.

“I—“ He started, immediately cutting himself off as he tried to better answer your question, “Well, I’m not really sure what to say. My body was moving on its own,”

You gave him the most dry look you could’ve mustered, though you couldn’t find it in you to be irritated. Sighing, you leaned back into your seat, raising an eyebrow at the man. “You do know that I could be in serious trouble if you come with me, they’d think that I kidnapped you,”

He giggled at that, a sound that you wanted to hear more of. “Ah yes, the bard and serial kidnapper, (Y/N),”

You weren’t sure why, but the way he said your name made your heart flutter. However, you pushed that feeling down immediately, staring at him with a serious look in your eye. He seemed to understand the situation, opting to speak once more.

“I’m truly not sure why I jumped in, all I know is that I wasn’t ready to say goodbye just yet,” He smiled at you, taking your hand into his, “You make me feel so many different emotions that I have yet to feel,”

You scoffed, yet you still let him hold your hand, “Oh really? Like what?”

“Envy,” He stated simply, before his face grew into an even bigger grin, “Amusement, happiness, and perhaps a few more that I can’t quite describe,”

He leaned in closer, and you felt your throat dry, watching as he simply stared at you. You wanted both to kick him out of the carriage to save face, and to pull him even closer, though you weren’t quite sure which urge was stronger. In all honesty, you hoped that he couldn’t hear how quickly your heart was beating, not wanting him to get an even bigger ego boost than before. 

The two of you continued to stare at one another, neither of you making a move until the coachman coughed awkwardly.

“Miss,” He started, his voice catching both of you off guard, “Should we be heading off?”

Looking to the source of the voice, then back at the prince in front of you, you watched as he leaned in closer to your ear, whispering, “I’ve already told my guard to cover for me, I’ll be fine,”

Pursing your lips, you didn’t take your eyes off of the man in front of you as you called out, “Yes, let’s go.”

Rather than having him take you back to your home, you instead had the coachman take you to the center of the city, where the festivities never ended and the two of you could blend in without a trace. Before the two of you exited the vehicle, you quickly shoved off any symbols of royalty that cladded Shouto’s figure. He watched in amusement as you hastily took off his cloak and royal broaches, not bothering to help you one bit. As you sat back a bit, trying to see how he looked, you shrugged your shoulders, figuring that it was as good as it was going to get. 

“You just look like a wealthier man,” You sighed, tugging his hand as you exited the carriage, “I suppose that’ll have to do,”

“I am a wealthier man,” He pointed out, waiting for you as you paid a hefty amount to the coachman, hoping that it would buy his silence.

You simply waved your hand, as if dismissing him. Pulling him into the center, you began to show him the many attractions and foods that were in the city. You wanted to show him more of what he never got to see, wanted him to experience more than he ever got to do. Watching him stare in awe of the sheer amount of stalls that were open for the night market made your heart soar, and you couldn’t help but giggle whenever he’d ask you what something was. You allowed yourself to be pulled in every direction, letting him choose where he wanted to go, and what he wanted to try. There was one moment when you lost him in the crowd, being pulled away from his side. You were panicked at first, worrying that someone would’ve recognized him, and then the two of you would be in trouble. However, when you felt a hand intertwine with yours, you felt yourself let out a huge sigh, scolding him gently for leaving your side. He apologized with a cheeky smile, telling you that he got distracted by something.

For the rest of your time in the city, the two of you never disconnected your hands.

As the night began to wind down, you pulled him towards a clearing in the park, finding some space where no one could bother the two of you. Sitting down on the grass, you motioned for him to join you, staring out to watch the river’s current. You could feel his presence beside you, his body emanating a comforting warmth that almost had you leaning into him. Staring out into the horizon, neither of you spoke, instead opting to simply enjoy the moment with one another. 

It was surprising to you, just how well you seemed to get along with the prince. Though your first impressions of one another weren’t exactly something to marvel over, you were surprised by just how well your personalities went together. It felt as though you had known each other in another life, as if you grew to care for one another then, and it was flowing over to the present. Though you weren’t one to believe in myths such as that, you couldn’t help but smile at the idea of having known the prince in a past life, and you wondered what you’d done to be lucky enough to meet him once more. 

Turning your head to the side, you made eye contact with Shouto, whom, once caught, whipped his head to the other side, a steady blush rising from his neck. Throwing your head back, you let out a laugh at his actions, amused with how he responded. Scooting just a bit closer, you bumped his shoulder with your own.

“Enjoying the view?” You teased, giggling harder when his face became a bright red. 

Glancing at you from the corner of his eye, he smiled. “If I was?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, doing your best to keep the heat from rising to your own face. “Can’t blame you, really,”

Shouto let a laugh out at that, tilting his head back at the sound. Once more, the two of you grew silent, with nothing but the far away chatter from the townsfolk filling the night air. As the night grew colder, and the sky turned from a violet shade to a pitch black void, you turned your head to look at Shouto, giving him a sad smile.

“Well, you should probably head back now, wouldn’t want the King to start a war looking for you,”

He scoffed, but nonetheless stood up, extending a hand for you to take. Once the two of you stood up, with you brushing off your lap for any excess debris, Shouto continued to hold your hand in his, not ready to let you go just yet. When you noticed that he was making no effort in leaving, you gave him a quizzical look.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, before deciding to tease him a little, “Don’t tell me you don’t know how to get home,”

Rather than feeding into your teasing like normal, he instead fished for something in his pocket with his free hand, fumbling for a bit before finally pulling out a simple locket, one that you’d been not so secretly eyeing since the two of you got there. 

It was by no means an extravagant necklace, it was just a simple gold locket, the shape of a small oval and a chain that went down to your collarbone. You looked from the necklace in his hand back to his face, confusion taking over your features.

“Didn’t I tell you last time that I didn’t want you to go and buy me things?” You questioned.

He nodded, taking his hand out of yours and putting the necklace on you, his hands brushing the back of your neck for a moment longer than they needed to. “If there’s something you should know about me, it’s that I usually don’t comply,”

You huffed out a laugh, doing your best to disguise your flustered state, though you were sure he could read you like a book. “You know, if you keep buying me things, I’m going to get used to it,”

“Maybe you should,”

Before you could even protest, he moved in closer, pressing a kiss to your cheek. It was so soft and his movements were so unsure that you weren’t quite sure that you hadn’t imagined it. Touching the spot where his lips had rested, you looked up at him in shock, though he refused to make eye contact with you once more. 

“I hope to see you again, (Y/N),” He spoke, clearing his throat as he began to walk away.

You didn’t let him get far, however, as you quickly tug on his wrist, and as he turned to ask what you needed, you pressed your lips onto his, giving him a sweet kiss. At first, you felt him stiffen beneath you, and just as you were about to move away, to apologize immediately, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer. 

For a few minutes, the two of you simply stood in the darkness, pressing soft kisses to each other’s faces, basking in the glow of your reciprocated feelings. However, you knew that he needed to be back soon, if not for fear of being found out, then because the night was much too dangerous for a royal like him. Reluctantly, you pulled away from his embrace, giggling at his pout.

“You really need to get going now,” You said, brushing his hair away from his face, “You’re sure to be in trouble if they find you missing,”

He sighed, not wanting to move away, but knew you were right. Resting his forehead on yours, he gave you one last kiss, smiling hopefully at you. “So, can I see you again?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re the prince, you could send your knights to come and collect me at any time,”

When he gave you a flat look you grinned, nuzzling your nose into his neck. “Of course you can, just say the word and I’ll be there,”

Giving you one last bright smile, he finally detached himself from you, his face lit up in pure excitement.

“Then, how about tomorrow?”

Just like that, the two of you ended up spending as much time as you possibly could together, whether it be due to his father hiring you for the balls he hosted, or when Shouto snuck out of the castle to you. Though you couldn’t see each other every day, on the days that you could see each other, it felt as though you’d never even left the others side. 

You’d spend your days together mostly exploring more of the city, as Shouto had mentioned to you that, being the heir to the throne, he wasn’t allowed to be outside much. You made sure to give him all of the experiences he wanted, even the simple, mundane ones like going to the local bakery to buy some desserts. Other times, the two of you would simply lounge around outside, with Shouto’s head resting against your back as you strummed your lute, softly singing a ballad you had learned on the road. 

Of course, the two of you never really defined your relationship, and, in all honesty, you were afraid to even try to. You knew what you were getting yourself into, you knew that you shouldn’t hold such affection for the Crown Prince, but you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered whenever he looked at you, how you felt as though you were soaring whenever he touched you, or how you felt as though you were unstoppable whenever he kissed you. Deep in your heart, you knew that this wouldn’t last forever, that he’d eventually have his duties to attend, and you’d simply be a distant memory for him. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to worry about that now. Instead, you simply worried about the smaller things, such as making sure Shouto didn’t hurt himself, or making sure that no one would recognize him. 

You didn’t realize just how short your time with him would be.

On a bright, warm, summer day, you waited outside of the castle walls, hidden away from any of the guards patrolling the outside. Today you were supposed to be going on a picnic with Shouto, perhaps just bask in the sun’s rays. It had been a few days since you’d last seen him, since an old friend of the King was coming to visit, and Shouto was to help entertain them. Of course, you’d been understanding of the situation, simply telling him that you’d wait. So, when the day finally came that one of his most trusted knights had shown up at your door to personally deliver a letter from the prince, asking if you’d join him for a picnic, you were quick to agree.

Resting on the wall, you let out a small sigh. He was running a bit late, but you figured that he was probably just trying to find an excuse to leave his father. As you turned around to face the entrance to the castle, you noticed a carriage coming in at the front. You watched as a familiar head of red and white hair popped out of the carriage, making a small smile cross your lips. However, before you could even breathe, you noticed another figure come out beside him:

A rather regal looking woman had stepped out of the carriage beside him, linking her arm in his as she whispered something to him, giggling. As the two were making their way towards the castle, you watched the mysterious woman stare up at him with a look that you knew very well, holding your breath as you saw her pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. You watched as he didn’t push her away, instead allowing her to latch onto him. Humming to yourself, you watched as his eyes wandered around, finally locking with yours, his eyes going comically wide. But you didn’t bother waiting around to see what he’d do. Instead, you simply frowned, making your way back towards the city, deciding that it’d be a lovely day to go and busk in the park. 

For the rest of the day, you found yourself seated on the grassy ground, strumming the lyre that you’d exchanged for your lute at home, singing to your hearts content. You ended up making good tips, and you ended up having an audience by the end of your final song. Once you had finished, you bowed slightly towards the crowd, before moving to head back into town, hoping that you could get a drink before heading home.

However, fate seemed to enjoy playing with your emotions.

Just as you were nearing your favorite tavern, you heard a voice call out to you, followed by a hand catching your wrist. Turning around, you found yourself facing a green haired knight, who looked to be out of breath.

“Sir Midoriya,” You started, turning so you could better face him, “How can I help you?”

He took in a deep gulp of air before shuffling through his belongings, eventually settling on a folded piece of paper, handing it to you. Curiously, you slowly opened the piece of parchment, scoffing as you looked at the location Shouto had wanted you to meet up. Folding the note back up, you handed it back to Midoriya, giving him a smile full of venom.

“Sir Midoriya, please do me a favor and tell His Royal Highness that he can go and fuck himself for all I care,” Giving the man a bow, you entered the tavern, only to quickly turn back and add, “Word for word, please.”

As you slammed the door shut, you thought that would be the end of it, though you supposed that was just wishful thinking. Once the beautiful blue sky of the afternoon had turned into a rosy pink color, you found yourself sitting in one of the more seclusive parts of the tavern, watching the patrons of the bar as you slowly sipped on your drink. You weren’t drunk by any stretch of the word, having not really been in the mood to be throwing up your guts the next day, though as soon as you heard the door open, and your eyes landed on a familiar looking figure, you wished that you had been. 

You watched as mismatched eyes scanned the crowd, eyebrows raising just a hair when his eyes met yours. Figuring that leaving was no longer an option, you waited for the prince to make his way over to you, wanting nothing more than to get this conversation over with. As he finally sat down in front of you, his eyes boring into yours, you took a long swig of your drink, letting out a sigh as you swallowed. 

Setting the mug down, you crossed your arms. “Long way away from home, Your Highness,”

At the sound of his title, he flinched, but he didn’t let that deter him, “(Y/N), let me explain—“

“What’s there to explain?” You questioned, your head tilting in almost a mocking manner, “I get it, you’re a prince. You were going to marry some rich girl eventually, there’s nothing to talk about.”

“(Y/N)—“

“It’s not like we had a chance anyways, it was all just supposed to be fun, right?” You asked, putting on a guarded smile.

He sighed, and you could tell you were getting under his skin. “Would you let me explain?”

When you didn’t say anything, he took it as his chance to go. “I didn’t even know of her until a few days ago. She’s the daughter of one of the most influential Lord’s in the kingdom, and apparently my father made a deal with him, that’s why I’ve been with her,” He reached out to hold your hand, inwardly letting out a breath of relief when you didn’t pull away, “I never wanted this to just be ‘fun,’ and you know that,”

You let out a laugh, though it’s devoid of any humor. “I didn’t think that you were hiding some secret wife, Your Highness, but her being here just reminds me of how different we are. I’m not royalty, and there’s certainly no way that your father would let you be with some random commoner, so is it really worth it to prolong something that’s bound to break?”

“You don’t have to be royalty, I could always,” He trailed off, but you knew what he was getting at.

“Do you really think he’d let you get away that easily?” You asked, and when he didn’t respond you continued, “Besides, you shouldn’t throw away the rest of your life for some random bard, Your Highness. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,”

Pulling your hand away from his, you stood from your seat, giving him a small bow as you walked towards the front door, but not before whispering to his knight to take him back. As you opened the entrance of the tavern, you looked back at the prince you left behind, your heart cracking slightly as you touched the locket on your neck. Smiling, you let the door shut behind you, closing that chapter of your life.

About four months after the last time you saw the Prince, you heard news that he was to marry one of the Lady’s from a dukedom not too far away from the kingdom, one that had a monopoly over some profitable trade routes. Though the King insisted it was a marriage of love, word quickly spread amongst the townsfolk that the Prince was not particularly fond of his bride-to-be, but none of them dared to speak it. 

A year later, the Prince had married his “sweetheart,” and you had found another. While you loved them dearly, you still couldn’t deny the hole in your heart, one that longed to be filled, yet would never be completely whole. 

One night, when your lover had long since gone to bed, you sat out in the night, letting the cool breeze wash over you. As you looked up to the stars, you could faintly make out a constellation of two lovers, and, as your hand went to touch the locket sitting above your heart, you prayed to any deity that would listen to you, pleading with them to bring you back to your prince in the next life, and that next time, the two of you could finally be happy.

Little did you know, that in a castle not too far away from you, a certain prince was looking at the very same stars in the sky, praying for the same thing.

[hellowkatey]

Febuwhump Day 24

Prompt: memory loss

Read on AO3

When Darkness Wins

It takes a moment for Cody's eyes to adjust to the bright lights of the med bay. He blinks a few times, taking a quick assessment of himself before he dares to move. An intense pounding in his head and soreness down his neck, arms, and legs let him know that whatever happened-- for some reason, he can't remember?-- he's probably in rough shape.

The lights above him dim, and he hears footsteps approaching.

"Apologies, commander," someone says. "I told the damned droid to turn the lights down, but you know non-sentients." Cody turns his head to look at the owner of the voice. It's a young woman with kind brown eyes and dark olive skin-- if Cody didn't know better he'd say she were a female clone of Jango, but obviously not. In either case, she's unfamiliar to him, but he supposes they could have gotten some new personnel at their last stop on Coruscant... Though, that leaves the question of where Helix is... "How are you feeling?" she asks, walking over to him and taking out a flashlight.

"Sore," he answers honestly. "My head doesn't feel great, either."

She waves the flashlight across his eyes, her lips curling with mild satisfaction. Now that she's close, he can make out the name printed on her smock-- Ledy.

"Well you did smash it against the side of fighter ship after falling from another fighter ship... so that's to be expected."

Cody's eyebrows knit together in confusion. Now, he feels like he's remember something like that. When he doesn't answer or react, Ledy's face turns serious.

"Commander... can you tell me your name?"

"Cody, ma'am."

She hesitates, pressing her lips together. "I meant your number."

"CC-2224."

"Okay good. And do you remember the accident?"

"No, ma'am."

"Okay... I will be right back."

Ledy strides swiftly from the room, leaving Cody alone in the med bay. He lays back, squeezing his eyes shut as his headache continues to rage. If only she'd administered some painkillers before running off.

Cody is mildly concerned he doesn't remember falling out of a damn ship, but he isn't too worried. He can remember everything else fine. He knows they're patroling Kooriva right now, a relatively low-stress assignment compared to the last few months. General Kenobi has taken it as an opportunity to give the men a much-needed rest-- extending liberty hours and allowing the veteran men to give extra instruction to the shinies they picked up last rotation.

Though the spirits have been up, Cody has noticed the uncharacteristically muted mood of his general. Just last week, they were reviewing strategies for General Unduli's next campaign and it as quite obvious he was not paying attention.

"Something wrong, sir?"

Months ago, Cody wouldn't feel comfortable asking such a direct personal question, but the campaigns as of late have really brought them to the point of being candid with one another. General Kenobi has gotten better about actually answering him as well.

"Not wrong, per say, just..." Kenobi sighed and looked at him. "The end of the war is near, Cody. I can feel it, but I'm unsure of how to interpret this feeling."

So Jedi stuff. There's not much he can do about that, but he is curious. Jedi stuff makes absolutely no sense to him, but it has been a huge strategical help. "Is it a bad feeling?"

"It's nondescript."

"So it could also be good?"

The general wagered this. "It's hard to say and difficult to explain, unfortunately. It's like..." He grabbed a half-filled glass of water and his caff. He scooped out some of the caff with a spoon and held it over the water cup. "The Force is like this water. Clear, easy to see through." He then let a few drops of caff fall into it. Cody watched the dark liquid spread and intermingle with the water, making it a very light brown. "But since the start of the war, the Force has become clouded," another two spoonfuls of caff. The liquid darkened again. He took another spoonful but this time tilted it so just a small drop fell from the spoon every few seconds. "And now it feels like there is a constant drip, every day, clouding the Force more and more." The water soon became dark brown, and General Kenobi held it up. Cody tried to look through the glass, but the image of the general's face on the other side was distorted and dark. He could hardly make out the details of his facial features. "So when I feel these feelings, it's hard to tell if they're good, bad, or just too clouded to see through."

Cody stared at the cup and then at the grim expression of General Kenobi.

"And... what if there is more caff than water, so to say? What does that mean?"

Kenobi looked at him and then took the cup of caff, pouring the rest of it into the water. The cup sloshed, immediately turning an inky black from the strong caff, and when it became still Cody sees that it is completely opaque.

"Then darkness will have won."

The med bay doors open and Ledy walks back in, a droid by her side this time.

"Pardon the wait, commander," she says, stopping at his bedside. The droid holds a tray of tools, none of which look pleasant. It's strange to Cody that a droid would be her assistant instead of one of the medical shinies. He raises an eyebrow.

"Is Helix out today?"

"Helix?"

"Well, yes, the lead medic."

Ledy nods and then picks up a scanner.

"Of course. Yes, Helix is otherwise occupied. Tell me, Commander, what ship are we on?"

Cody glances around the barren med bay. "The Negotiator."

"And who is your commanding officer?"

"General Kenobi... why are you asking me--"

"Routine questions, sir. And what planet did you last step foot on?"

"Kooriva."

"Okay..." she stares down at her datapad, typing things in. "I need to do a brain scan."

Her behavior is offputting. When she raises the scanner he dodges. "I would like to speak to Helix. Or General Kenobi."

"I'm afraid they're... both otherwise occupied, commander. Just let me--"

"Both of them?" this sets off warning bells in his head. Of course, the general was also hurt-- he wouldn't have let Cody fall if he weren't already injured himself. If there's anything he can count on, it's General Kenobi putting himself in the line of fire to save the others. If Kenobi really is indisposed, then he needs to find him to give a report to the council. "I must see him immediately." Cody moves to stand, but Ledy presses a hand on his chest, holding him back.

"No, commander, that isn't possible. You must stay in bed."

"I must alert the Jedi council--"

"Commander Cody," she says loudly, sighing. "You're confused."

He blinks, cocking his head. "The only thing I'm confused about, is why you're trying to detain me when I need to be checking on my general."

Cody ignores her pleas and throws the blanket off his body, swinging his feet out of bed. He's in a medical gown but he doesn't care. Something strange is going on here and he is going to find out what.

But as he stands, a wave of dizziness and nausea hits him like a tidal wave, and the walls go sideways. Cody hits the ground hard, his vision going white as his headache spikes.

Ledy doesn't rush to him, only calmly walks around the bed. He watches three of her approach, crouching down and looking at him with a smug expression.

"You're confused, commander. The war is over. The Jedi are dead. Your general is dead."

And it rushes back. All at once. Painfully. Grevious. Utapau. Order 66. Watching the cliffside explode and Kenobi fall hundreds of feet to a pit of water.

They never found his body, though. And General Kenobi has survived worse than a bad fall. A part of him still feels like he's out there somewhere no matter how many times he's been told the old master would have resurfaced by now.

While usually thinking of the Jedi and the war and all of it makes him angry, now he just feels this sense of emptiness in his chest. Cody believes in the Empire, believes in the new order, but he'd be lying if there isn't a part of him that misses living and working alongside his brothers. Working with the Jedi even though they turned out to be traitors.

"Oh," is all Cody can say, staring up at the medic. Helix is gone. So is Kix. She finally extends her hand, helping him to a sitting position. His head still spins.

"You have a bad concussion. With this memory loss, I need to check for bleeds, commander. Preferably without you flailing around like an imbecile."

He nods, ashamed of his outburst. "Yes, ma'am, I will comply."

He climbs back into bed, and Ledy begins her scan. As he lays on his side he eyes Ledy's cup of caff, and is reminded of the conversation he thought was only a week ago but must have been several years back now.

Kenobi was right, he realizes. Darkness took over.

Cody swallows the thickness that has formed in this throat, pushing out the warm memories of the way things used to be. There is no room for him to be reminiscent anymore.

The Jedi are dead. The Republic has fallen. Long live the Empire.

[hellsbellschime]

So what's your theory about what happened to the dragons?

LOL, well it might not be the most thrilling theory behind their demise, but I think there is substantial evidence to back it up.

When it comes to the world of ice and fire, there are few beasts that inspire as much fear and awe as dragons. Dragons are fire made flesh, their unstoppable power allowed the Valyrians to conquer and subjugate most of Essos for centuries, and enabled the Targaryens to conquer and subjugate the Seven Kingdoms for centuries after that. 

However, after revolutionizing most of Planetos in blazes of glory and terror, instead of this species flourishing or even going out with a bang, they went out with a whimper. Barely a hundred years after the Targaryens united the kingdoms of Westeros and named themselves kings and queens from the backs of seemingly unstoppable dragons, the few dragons that even hatched wound up being sad remnants of this once titanic species. And the Targaryens, along with the fans and viewers of the series were left asking themselves, why?

After all, while the number of dragons that were left in the world were already dwindling rapidly, the fact that the dragons that survived the Doom of Valyria went from beasts that could destroy the world to small, sad imitations of the fearsome animals that they once were in the matter of a few generations would indicate that something had gone very wrong with them very quickly. 

While dragons are hardly normal animals, if any living species in the real world went from relatively normal to barely able to reproduce and only able to spawn extremely unhealthy and stunted offspring, people would be rightfully alarmed. Yes, the gene pool of remaining dragons was distressingly small already, but even so, one would think that a species on the verge of extinction like that would still peter out rather than almost instantaneously collapse. 

Understandably, fans have many theories about what happened to the dragons, or more specifically, who made what happened happen to them. And unfortunately for House Targaryen, the list of suspects isn't exactly small. Dragons are the most dangerous weapons in the world, they allowed the Valyrians to become the most powerful civilization in the world and allowed just three Targaryens to invade and conquer an entire continent. They seem to be the foundation on which Valyrian power was built, and everyone who could control dragons could in turn control everything and anything that they wanted to. 

House Targaryen ultimately became the most powerful family in the world, and they never made a habit of sharing their power. When they conquered Westeros, they were extremely reluctant to marry any Westerosi families into their own, and they certainly weren't keen on letting any non-Targaryen gain access to their literal firepower. But what that means is that, although there are certain people who are more suspicious than others, literally every non-Targaryen in Westeros likely wanted to see the reign of dragons come to an end. 

But although the list of suspects should be about as long as a census of the Seven Kingdoms, most theorize that it was either the Faith of the Seven or the maesters who were the masterminds behind the destruction of dragons. And they certainly make sense as prime suspects, given that they are two of the largest and most powerful organizations in Westeros that have access to anything and everything, including the Targaryens themselves. 

There are more reasons to suspect these organizations as well. Just as with every powerful family or group in Westeros, when the Targaryens arrived in the Seven Kingdoms, the power that they took diminished the power of the people who had already existed there. It's clear that the subjugation of the kingdoms was not willing on the part of it's citizens, so they would likely feel quite motivated to take some of that power back, and given that the maesters were one of the only organizations that wielded power across every kingdom, it makes sense that they would in a way want to undermine the rule of the Targaryens. 

And beyond that, the maesters in particular have very little love for magic in general. Despite seemingly believing in magic and even offering study in the subject, they seem to have a keen interest in ensuring that others don't believe in magic, and they also seem to take certain steps to prevent magic from returning in the contemporary timeline of the story. 

And of course, arguably the biggest reason why the maesters are the prime suspects is because Archmaester Marwyn the Mage seems to outright state that it was the maesters who killed off the dragons. 

That would seemingly end the question of how the dragons all died, except... does it really? Yes, Marwyn claims that the maesters were the ones that did it, however in the history of A Song of Ice and Fire, it seems that more often than not, those who claimed to do something extraordinary are lying. 

But if it wasn't the maesters, or the faith, or some diabolical or politically savvy house in Westeros, then who or what was it? Well, perhaps people are looking for conspiracy theories where none exist. Maybe the dragons truly did just die on their own. 

Now, this would seem like a fairly outrageous and extremely convenient idea given the circumstances. Because again, any species going from a dwindling number of relatively normal animals to being unable to produce anything but stunted and malformed creatures seems exceptionally unlikely. However, dragons are not relatively normal animals. 

To understand the end of the dragons, it's best to start from the beginning. As creatures that are both mythical and real, there are unsurprisingly a lot of origin myths surrounding where the dragons truly came from. Some say that they came from the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai, some say that they came from a second moon that cracked like an egg and let all of the dragons out. However, given that their entire empire was built on the backs of dragons, it seems like what the Valyrians say about where the dragons came from may be the most relevant. 

According to the Valyrians, the dragons sprang forth from the Fourteen Flames, the chain of volcanoes that served as the steam engine that fueled the Valyrian empire itself. However, this origin story is a strange one. After all, the Doom of Valyria appears to have been some sort of massive explosion of the Fourteen Flames, one that was so large that it even killed the dragons. But if the dragons originated from the Fourteen Flames themselves, then how would not one of them have survived the Doom?

But perhaps this origin story is both true and false. Septon Barth, Hand of the King to Jahaerys Targaryen, has some very interesting theories regarding how the Valyrians came to control and very possibly create dragons themselves. The Valyrians were quite fond of experimenting with magically and biologically blending different creatures anyway, and it's hard not to notice that if a firewyrm and a wyvern were thrown in a blender, something like a dragon would seemingly come out of it. 

Interestingly, one of the strongest indications of dragons possibly not being an animal that naturally occurs in the world comes from the Targaryen invasion of Westeros. Westeros is not a land that seems to be home to a lot of fire magic, but it does seem to be a bit of a hotbed of magic in general. And while abilities like skinchanging and warging are extraordinary powers, they are not a particularly uncommon power. 

Dragons represent the greatest power that the world has ever known, and the Targaryens invaded a land where there are seemingly hundreds of people who can take possession of an animal with their minds. So it seems incredibly, astoundingly strange that there are no reports of anyone ever skinchanging or even attempting to skinchange into a dragon. 

Granted, it would likely be incredibly difficult, and perhaps there is some other explanation for why no one has ever done it before. But, even putting the appeal of dragon power aside, once everyone saw what an existential threat dragons were to Westeros, it seems unlikely that no skinchanger ever even thought to try to wrest the total control that House Targaryen had over the country away from them. 

And even putting the skinchanging issue aside, contrary what the TV series would have everyone believe, the dragons will not be going beyond the wall anytime soon. In fact, the wall seems to be some sort of natural repellent to the dragons, which is another extremely strange indication that there is something very abnormal about the dragons themselves. 

After all, the wall wasn't even built with dragons in mind. And the wall is an extremely powerful magical barrier, but as the direwolves that the Starks find at the beginning of the story seem to indicate, it's not a barrier that keeps magical creatures away. One might assume that it was a barrier to keep ice magic at bay, but the dragons being repelled by it would indicate otherwise as well. It's possible that Bran the Builder was just exceptionally prescient and imbued the wall with magic that would serve as a barrier to something that would threaten Westeros in the future, but it seems far more likely that the wall was built as a barrier to keep all unnatural magic out. 

And honestly, the theory that dragons are unnatural magical creations would answer a lot of questions about dragons in general, like why it was that the Valyrians were the only civilization that could control them, why the rise of Valyria seemed to coincide with the sudden proliferation of dragons that was localized to soley this area of Planetos, and why the Doom of Valyria seemed to translate to the doom of dragons themselves. 

There seems to be more background information that supports this theory as well. While the Valyrian civilization is mostly gone from the world, their civilization seems to be built almost entirely on fire magic, and fire magic in general is certainly alive and well in Planetos.  

The followers of R'hllor seem to be the most powerful human magic wielders in the series thus far, and their magic seems to be almost entirely fueled by fire and ritual sacrifice. But it's hard not to notice that their power seems to require a LOT of ritual sacrifice. There is a very clear through line connecting blood with magic in the world of Ice and Fire, but from what we know about the history of Valyria as well as what we know about fire magic users that exist today, it seems like fire magic seems to be extremely consumptive. 

In the Valyrian Freehold, slaves were dying constantly, many of them dying by fire in and around the Fourteen flames themselves. And while the information regarding the advanced Valyrian technology like Valyrian stone and Valyrian steel is lost, there is a lot of subtextual hints that they also involved blood magic. And in the contemporary storyline, there are a lot of fire magic users who are doing some spectacularly impressive things, but they are killing an astounding number of people in order to do it. 

And this concept, the idea that the most powerful magic in the world requires the most sacrifice, seems to hold up within the rest of the universe as well. Ice is clearly meant to be the magical counterpart to fire, and given that the army of the dead literally requires thousands upon thousands of dead people, it seems like there is a clear indication that great power comes from great sacrifice. So then, if dragons are truly creatures that do not occur in nature and were somehow created through fire and blood magic, it would make sense that the sustenance of the dragons as a species would be dependent on the continuation of that blood sacrifice. 

And this idea seems to have already been confirmed in A Song of Ice and Fire itself. Daenerys is in possession of her dragon eggs for quite a while, and she seems to have an instinctive understanding that she will be able to hatch them, but she then comes to realize that hatching them would require some sort of blood sacrifice as well. When Daenerys actually does this, dragons are finally brought back into the world. 

So, while there are plenty of potential suspects when it comes to the destruction of the dragon race, it actually seems incredibly likely that these magical beings simply couldn't survive without the enormous blood sacrifices that it took to create them in the first place.

[argylemnwrites]

Fight or Flight - Chapter 12: Forward

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~4800

Rating: PG (language only)

Summary: Two weeks since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: I’m back! And I hope to stay back and posting! It’s been a while since the last chapter, so as a quick refresher - Hana has been named Duchess of Valtoria by King-Regent Rashad, Amalas was somehow able to track down the Walkers in Xanthi, Greece (and wants to turn that knowledge into an alliance), and the Walkers are heading onto Athens as their options for survival as fugitives are not looking great.

This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist. (link can be found via my bio - sorry, Tumblr is once again not putting my posts with links in tag searches)

Hana glanced around the palace ballroom, taking in the groups of people milling about the room. In so many ways, tonight was just like any other ball or gala. How many events had she been to in this room over the past three years, with mostly the same guests, the same food, and the same music? But tonight was different. Not only was this ball being thrown in her honor, welcoming her as Cordonia’s newest duchess, but it was the first event she’d attended without Riley by her side. Since that opening masquerade ball of Liam’s social season, they’d always been together for every formal event. But not tonight. Tonight, she was back to doing things on her own.

She stood over towards the front of the room, greeting the last of the nobility and well wishers. Soon, the dancing would start. It was strange how everything felt routine and totally different at the same time. She supposed that when Rashad gave a speech acknowledging her new title, things would really seem different. But for now, it was just a weird mix of emotions she was trying so hard to keep at bay as she shook hand after hand, nodded politely over and over again, and kept a gentle smile locked in place.

“Congratulations!” Penelope squealed, scurrying across the ballroom and throwing her arms around Hana, “This is so exciting! Isn’t it exciting, Zeke?”

Ezekiel nodded briskly and gave Hana a small little smile as he held out his right hand for her to shake, “Yes. Congratulations, Your Grace.”

“Thank you, both of you,” Hana replied, giving a nod that she hoped conveyed the right blend of gratitude and authority. She needed her first appearance as a duchess to go well for many reasons.

She knew intellectually that her appointment as the Duchess of Valtoria was a desperation move from Rashad. His first week and a half as king-regent had been far from smooth and calm. The groups of protesters in front of the palace had grown in number every day, the citizens of Lythikos were organizing, and the unrest in Valtoria was spilling into neighboring lands. Rashad had needed to do something, but as a temporary leader, making changes that were too aggressive would be poorly received and could possibly worsen the protesting. He had to walk a very fine line, and presenting Hana as a new regional leader looked like he was taking action without actually requiring him to stick his neck out and take a stand. For someone who hated courtly politics, his maneuver was pretty brilliant.

But because of the fact that her appointment to duchess was done by an interim leader, Hana knew she would be subjected to increased scrutiny. Not just from Barthelemy’s allies, who would likely object to the title going to someone with known close ties to the Walkers and to Liam, but also from Liam’s supporters, who were likely to object to any use of the powers of the monarch by Rashad, someone they considered an illegitimate king-regent. Part of her worried that she was being set up to fail, albeit unintentionally.

Still, she knew she was ready for this. She had prepared her whole life to hold a title at this level. She had trained and studied and practiced for years. This was the job she had been preparing for since she was a child. Granted, she had been taught that she would rise to this title through marriage, was told that her job would be to be a diplomat behind the scenes, supporting a husband in his role. But the concept was the same, even though this title was hers and hers alone. And maybe it was crazy and naive, but there was a part of Hana that felt proud. Someone had seen her talents and skills and contributions to Valtoria and decided to recognize them. No, to recognize her.

Of course, it wasn’t that simple. Given the method of her appointment, she was likely going to need to prove herself over and over again. Her mother had seen fit to remind her of that twice already this evening, as if that wasn’t already running through her brain constantly. If she was even a mediocre duchess, so many would get hurt. Rashad would find it difficult to gain any support to make any decisions if his first major one proved to be a poor choice. Liam’s bid to reclaim the throne would be damaged if one of his known close associates was an unpopular and ineffective duchess. And probably most importantly, the people of Valtoria deserved some stability and support in a time of national upheaval.

As much as Hana felt for Riley and Drake and understood why they made the choices they did for their family, she also felt for the citizens of Valtoria acutely. They didn’t ask to have their duchess and duke abandon them, did nothing to deserve this degree of political instability. Of course, that could probably be said for all the citizens of Cordonia. A power struggle amongst the nobility had triggered the loss of the country’s heir to the throne and a power vacuum that was going to leave them without stable national leadership for months. The whole thing made her feel almost ill to think about, but all she could do at this point was do her best to serve Valtoria and it’s citizens with her whole heart and mind.

“How are you doing, Hana Banana?” Maxwell’s hand on her shoulder jolted her out of her moment of introspection. She gave him a smile, accepting the glass of champagne he offered her and tapping it lightly against his.

“Tonight has been… a lot,” she said after taking a sip of her drink.

“Tell me about it. It feels like it was just yesterday that we were here for Riley’s ball, naming her the Duchess of Valtoria.”

Hana hummed lightly at that, and suddenly, Maxwell was rambling.

“Not that you took it from her or don’t deserve the title or anything! Because you absolutely do! Like, you are so wise and smart and crazy talented and -”

“-Maxwell, I know what you meant. I was just thinking about how I could do without a recreation of the end of that night.”

“Oh. Yeah. Me too. To be fair, I don’t think my dad’s hired a bunch of assassins. Of course, I didn’t think he was plotting a coup underneath my nose either, soooo…” Maxwell trailed off with a little shrug.

Hana glanced over, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving it a little squeeze. “I feel like we haven’t had much of a chance to talk. How are you doing with everything?”

He shrugged again and took a sip of his champagne. “Yeah, I haven’t been able to get away from Ramsford really at all this week. Bertrand is losing his mind prepping for Dad’s inevitable attempt to forcibly retake his title. He’s hunkered down in the west wing, while Dad’s taken the east. Bertrand’s already fired about one third of the staff because he’s caught them over on Dad’s side for no good reason, so Dad’s taken to firing staff he’s sure are loyal to Bertrand in retaliation. Soon, it’ll just be the three of us. Actually, the five of us. Savannah and Bartie get back tomorrow.”

“Have you decided whether to give her Drake’s number yet?” Hana asked, making sure she kept her voice low. Ever since Savannah had booked the tickets back for her and Bartie, there had been a bit of a debate over whether or not she should receive a burner phone and be told how to get in touch with her brother. Olivia firmly believed there were already too many people who knew, whereas Maxwell brought up that it was wrong to prevent her from talking to her brother when she was only coming back to Cordonia earlier than planned to help Bertrand fight his father’s bid to reclaim the title of Duke of Ramsford. He insisted that meant she had already proven herself a trusted ally, while Olivia remained unconvinced. Both Hana and Liam had taken a more neutral stance on the matter, but he had expressed to her that he didn’t think it boded well for them that their group was already facing such strong differences of opinion. Quite frankly, it was a significant sticking point that felt like it could implode at any moment.

Maxwell shook his head. “Not right away at least. Bertrand honestly is so engrossed with trying to align support for his claim to our head of house title that I don’t think he’s even realized we’re in contact with Drake and Riley at this point. When I talked to Savannah, she was pretty worried about him, so I don’t think she’d want to risk hurting his chances by talking to known ‘traitors and fugitives’ at this point.”

All of it just made Hana sad. More families torn apart by this scheme, more pain and paranoia in all of their lives. “Well, that will make Olivia happy at least.”

“One can only hope. She’s been in fine form lately.”

He wasn’t wrong. It seemed like Olivia’s small reserve of patience was used up on dealing with Liam and Leo. She hadn’t lashed out at Hana yet, but the only thing Hana had done to annoy her was arrange that meeting with Kiara, and all was quickly forgiven when Hana told her she had fostered a line of communication on that front. Maxwell, on the other hand, seemed to annoy her regularly even at baseline.

“She just has a lot on her plate, Maxwell.”

“I know, I know. But that shouldn’t give her the right to take it out on us.”

“It doesn’t, but right now I think we are all just trying to hang on and hope for the best we can.”

“Yeah, well here’s hoping for better soon.” And with that he clinked his glass against hers yet again. “Speaking of better, do you need me to cause a distraction so you can sneak out and chat with Kiara?”

She shook her head. “No, Hakim is officially representing their family tonight. She texted me that he is on high alert and that it would be too risky for us to meet tonight. She’s coming alone next week.”

“Ahh, for social season kickoff, take two?”

“Yes, so I should be able to speak to her then.”

“What do you think her endgame is? Or Hakim’s?”

Hana tilted her head to the side and let out a small sigh. She’d speculated endlessly for the past week, ever since her meeting with Kiara, but every idea felt just as improbable as the one before it. “I honestly don’t have a clue, Maxwell.”

“That’s alright, even you are allowed to not know the answers every once in a while,” he said, winking at her. “Now, come on. We’ve been moping here for too long. Tonight is your night, Hana! So what do you say? Dancing? More drinks? Grab some food? Or did I hear someone suggest dancing?”

She smiled, grateful that Maxwell understood the power of a morale boost and proud that he was still able to cheer up those around him, even as his family was falling apart before his eyes. “Maxwell, would you do me the honor of the next dance?”

“Why, Your Grace, it would be my honor,” he replied with a flourish, grabbing her champagne flute and placing both their glasses on an empty tray before accompanying her onto the dance floor.

As they settled into the rhythm of the song, Hana gave Maxwell’s hand a friendly squeeze. “Thank you, Maxwell.”

“For what?”

“For still being you.”

He beamed brightly at that. “Same to you, Hana. Definitely same to you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Liam stood off to the side of the ballroom, nursing a glass of water. It was his first public appearance in about a week and a half, and even though he had never had a problem handling his liquor, the last thing he needed tonight was to have his judgement at all altered or impaired. This whole evening was going to be stressful enough without having to worry about imbibing just a little too heavily.

He knew it was important for him to be here. He needed to be seen again, to show strength and resilience and fortitude to any who might doubt him. Additionally, Hana was one of his dearest friends, and he wanted to be present to support and celebrate her. This night was key for a variety of reasons. 

However, that didn't change the fact that tonight was just plain hard. He was surrounded by people he knew he could no longer trust. How many of them were plotting against him at this very moment? Were whispering how pleased they were about recent events over their drinks? Were watching him closely, latching onto any change of his expression as a sign of his suffering?

Other than Olivia, Leo, Hana, Maxwell, and Bertrand, people seemed to be steering clear of Liam tonight. It was clear they had no concept of how to handle interacting with him at this point. His circumstances were fairly unprecedented. Sure Leo had abdicated, but that had been his choice and he hadn't been the reigning monarch when he made that decision. Additionally, he had left the country for months after his abdication. But Liam was still here, in the heart of it all, after being stripped of the crown.

He wasn't used to having so much time to himself, both at formal events such as tonight's ball, and just in general. In the simplest sense of the word, he was unemployed. And while some, such as Leo, seemed to thrive without the pressure and responsibility that came from having professional duties, Liam was finding he didn't much like having… well, nothing. He had no career, no obligations, no partner, no children. He just… was. He existed.

He knew he needed to shake off this attitude. The social season would be officially, finally, starting in one week, and he needed to hit the ground running. He was essentially going to be campaigning for many months. The issue was that he had no desire to campaign. He had been born into his role and raised to serve Cordonia's people since he was a child. He wasn't supposed to have to fight to even have a chance to put that training to use.

Taking another sip of his water, he leaned against the bar, just watching as the rest of the nobility talked and laughed and enjoyed themselves. If he had opted for whiskey instead of water, he would have been doing a good Drake impression. Well, a Drake-of-several-years-ago impression. Ever since Bridget's birth, or maybe even Riley's pregnancy, Drake had been much more engaged at events like this one. Now that he had more time to contemplate that fact, he wondered how much of that came from Drake's own personal growth and opening up and how much of it was forced on him by the nature of Bridget being named heir to the throne. 

He scanned the room slowly,  his eyes eventually settling on Olivia dancing with his brother. She was wearing a grey dress, not a red one for once. He supposed that was a testament to how much she had come to respect Hana over the years - she had decided to forego her signature color and instead wore a less eye-catching one so that Hana could own the spotlight on her night. Eventually, the song came to an end. Liam watched as she laughed and rolled her eyes at something Leo said before stepping off to the side and making her way over to the bar. She slid up next to him, requesting a glass of Bordeaux before she turned to talk to him.

“So, how are you… uh, doing?”

He couldn’t help but smile at her awkward attempt at emotional comfort. She was trying, had been trying for days, in fact. But Olivia was just not well suited for gentle emotional soothing. Tough love was much more in her wheelhouse. It was nearly disconcerting that she wasn’t using tough love, he realized. He must not be coping as well as he wanted to be if this was the approach she was taking.

“I will admit that it is strange to be back here without my title. Coming to an event here, not hosting an event here is even more unsettling than I thought it would be. Of course that could be in part due to the fact that the exact same menu, music, and decor that was used for Riley’s ball welcoming her to the nobility is on display.”

“Did your assistant not think it might be wise to change it up at all?” she asked as she accepted her glass of wine from the bartender with a nod. 

“I’m guessing Rashad didn’t care to make any changes, and Stefan isn’t exactly motivated to enhance the perception of Rashad as a leader. After all, he stayed on to help him at my request.”

“Touché.” she said, taking a sip of her drink.

“Of course, this Duchess of Valtoria seems far less likely to leave her citizens and her country in a lunch by fleeing and abandoning her post.” Liam regretted the words as soon as he said them. The look Olivia was giving him was an unbearable mixture of pity and frustration. “Sorry, you know I didn’t mean that.”

“Liam…”

“Okay, I might have kind of meant it, but I don’t want to mean it. I am trying not to mean it. At the very least, it wasn’t something I should have said aloud.”

She paused for just a moment, running her bright red nails along the side of her wine glass before responding, “Maybe it would be helpful to frame your frustrations with those two differently.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, instead of being mad as hell that Riley didn’t take her responsibilities to Cordonia seriously, maybe be more frustrated that someone as impulsive as her took on all those responsibilities knowing she would never be able to stay true to them. It makes the whole thing seem a little more abstract and annoying, less personal and infuriating. At least, it does for me.”

He frowned at that. Her strategy was an interesting one, but he wasn’t sure it was going to help with the storm of emotions he was trying to keep locked away tonight. “I’m not saying you are wrong, but Olivia, the only reason she carried that title was because I offered it to her.”

“She could have turned it down. Don’t put this on yourself.”

Liam didn’t know if that was exactly a fair assessment. Of course Riley could have rejected his offer of the duchy, just like Drake and her could have turned down his request to name their child heir to the throne. But he had been the one who decided that she was a good fit to be Duchess of Valtoria, that they were good options to raise the next King or Queen of Cordonia. With the benefit of hindsight, those decisions looked terrible, so wildly ill-conceived and poorly executed. How had he convinced himself that both those choices had been for the best?

He’d been so focused on being a compassionate, trusting king. He hadn’t wanted to turn into his father, cold and calculating, seeing enemies around every corner. But maybe he had swung the pendulum too far in the opposite direction and become overly trusting and complacent. Would anyone else in his position have made the choices he made? More often than not these, he doubted that many of his decisions as king were sound.

His silence must have made Olivia uncomfortable, because she wrapped a hand around his wrist and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Liam, come on. Forget I said anything. You know I’m not great at the whole pep talk, emotional support thing. It was probably bad advice.”

Liam shook his head, feeling a sad sort of smile tug across his face, almost against his will. “No, I think it was good advice, Liv. It just has given me a lot to think about.”

“Liam…”

“I’m fine. I just am going to take a walk and clear my head.” With that, Liam set down his empty glass of water and turned around, walking out towards the doors and into his mother’s gardens. He knew he needed to be moving forward, not dwelling on the past like he was at the moment. The social season was only a week away, and with it came his bid to reclaim his title. Still, it was hard to be energized and optimistic about that prospect when all his failures and shortcomings seemed more numerous and prominent than they had ever been in the past. Or maybe he was simply more aware of them at this point. Either way, he couldn’t help but question how he was going to convince other nobles that he deserved the crown when he barely felt like he could convince himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Riley tensed as she heard the door creak open. Even though she was expecting Drake back around this time, she still half expected it to be Greek authorities, Montoressan spies, or Cordonian agents bursting through the door of their hotel room, ready to arrest her and take her baby away.

But it was Drake on the other side of the door. She let out a little sigh of relief when she saw his face. He, on the other hand, frowned. “What are you still doing up?” he asked as he closed and locked the door behind him. He kept his voice quiet, clearly not wanting to wake up Bridget.

Riley just shrugged. The truth was that whenever Drake went out, she was scared. Scared that he would be found and picked up and extradited back to Cordonia. Scared that she would be left alone in a country where she didn’t speak the language with a 10 month old baby. Scared that her family was going to be torn apart. But she couldn’t tell that to Drake, not when he was the only thing keeping them afloat. She knew him. He was already carrying enough stress without having to soothe her panicked and frazzled nerves every time he left to go earn them a little cash.

They had been in Athens about a week now, but Riley and Bridget had not left the hotel since they checked in. Bridget seemed to have resigned herself to the fact that her life now did not extend beyond these four walls and was usually content to play with her blocks or to listen to Riley read her the same three picture books over and over, which was both a blessing and mad depressing. Drake, however, had been venturing out daily, looking for places that would hire him under the table, without checking his ID or anything that might get them caught. She’d had to coach him on how to find these jobs, having looked for cash paying jobs many times when she needed to make rent back in New York. In some respects, it might have been better for her to be the one to go out job hunting since she had more experience, but they’d decided she was way more recognizable than Drake, particularly now that he had grown a beard to make facial recognition harder. Her inability to speak more than eight Greek phrases also clearly made Drake the better option.

He hadn’t had any luck the first four days, but then he found a restaurant owner who was willing to pay him straight cash every night to work as a dishwasher. Sure, the hourly pay was garbage and he didn’t get home until very late, but he also got to bring home leftovers every night, which meant that they had to spend less money on food. At this point, even slowing their bleeding of their minimal money supply was essential, particularly since the social season hadn’t even started yet, which meant that the earliest the Conclave could happen would be almost six months from now. Riley honestly didn’t know how they were going to feed themselves for that long, much less find shelter in the winter.

It’s not like Riley had never known poverty or living paycheck to paycheck before. But doing it now, with her baby girl, just felt so much more draining and awful. Bridget was just a kid, she didn’t ask for any of this, and she definitely didn’t deserve to suffer. But there was little Riley could do to make things better other than try and keep things happy and joyful when they were playing. Drake was doing everything else.

He handed her a bag of food before stripping out of his shirt and going to wash it in the bathroom. She peeked inside, seeing some dolmadakia, some bread, and some sort of chicken. A decent variety tonight. Trying not to rustle the bag too loudly, she pulled out some of the food and started eating, making sure to take less than half. She was sure Drake was lying when he told her he didn’t need much because he ate at the restaurant. She’d worked enough shitty, under the table jobs in her time to know that eating while on the clock was the quickest way to get yourself fired.

“So,” Drake said as he came out of the bathroom, taking off his pants and folding them neatly before climbing into the other side of the bed. “Olivia texted me while I was at work. She has a possible plan to get us our passports and some money, but she wanted to run it by us first.”

Riley knew her eyebrows had practically shot up to her forehead as she took in his statement. She handed him the bag with the rest of the food, turning onto her side to face him fully. “What’s the plan?”

“Well, Leo’s been back in Cordonia since we… uh… left. But he’s planning to take off before the social season kicks off.”

“Okay?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for him to spend a few days in Athens, taking in nightlife and clubs, that sort of thing.”

“Oh.” Riley wasn’t sure what to make of that. She always found Leo friendly and easy to talk to, but she’d heard enough stories to know that he was exactly the most responsible man on the planet. “You know Leo better than me, Drake. Is this a good idea?”

Drake let out a long breath, his eyes closing for a brief moment before he answered, “I don’t know, Walker. Him being here would not raise too many alarm bells, but he sometimes can draw the attention of the paparazzi - the “Party Prince” is usually good for a scandal or two, that sort of shit. And uhh, well… let’s just say I would count on him being an hour late if we went to meet him somewhere.”

“So not exactly your first choice to hold on to our passports then?”

“Not so much, no.”

Riley chewed on her lip for just a moment, her hand gently running over the back of Bridget’s head. She was sound asleep, nestled on the bed between them. Even though this hotel had a crib for them to use, Riley just couldn’t bring herself to fall asleep without her daughter right next to her. “We don’t really have a choice, do we?”

Drake shook his head. “We need money, Riley. Badly. I don’t know if Olivia is financing this or what, but I don’t think it matters anymore. We aren’t going to make it until January at this rate. Hell, I don’t think we’ll make it to September.”

She reached over and gave his wrist a little squeeze. He was trying to do so much to keep them surviving on their own. She knew it was killing him that they were having to take this risk, to potentially get themselves caught in some weird clandestine meetup with a former prince in order to get some more cash and their passports so that they could try and get forgeries made. It really was their best chance at being able to hide out through the Conclave.

“Well, then let’s do it. Work out the details with Olivia and get what we need to try and keep going.

Drake stared at her for just a brief moment before giving her a little nod. There wasn’t really much to say. All they could do was keep moving forward, day by day. So, Riley slid down into her pillow, finally ready to get some sleep now that she knew Drake was back and safe. The last thing she saw before her eyes fluttered closed was Drake letting out a heavy sigh before reaching into the bag of food.

Permatag: @walkerswhiskeygirl @riley--walker @bebepac @oofchoices @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5 @mfackenthal @thequeenofcronuts

TRR/TRH: @iaminlovewithtrr @ao719 @mskaneko @katedrakeohd @axwalker @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @kingliam2019 @dcbbw @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @yaushie @debramcg1106 @masterofbluff

Drake/MC: @no-one-u-know @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @notoriouscs @drakesensworld @drake-colt-lover-99 @twinkleallnight

FoF: @burnsoslow @bobasheebaby @shz256​

[ortizobsessed]

Be Okay

This one was requested by @mycupoffanfictionreads!

Reader x Juice where you have a chronic illness that makes holding down a job difficult. When you admit to Juice that you feel like a burden having to rely on him so heavily, he reassures you there’s nothing to worry about.

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1910

Masterlist

“I’m sorry Y/N... I know this is out of your control but we need someone reliable on our team.”

Unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time you’d heard those words one after the other. They were strung together so smoothly at each and every work place that you were starting to think there was a universal handbook for telling someone their medical condition was the reason they were being fired.

“Look, I want to give you one more shot, but we will have to move you to a part-time position.”

A momentary flutter of hope washed over you; part-time was better than nothing. “Okay, I understand. Thank you Mrs. Henderson.”

The soft smile and slight nod she gave you as you stood up was definitely part of the handbook, too.

The next couple months dragged on. You spent countless days curled up in bed, in so much pain you couldn’t move. Other days, when the pain was manageable, you found yourself overthinking things, stressing over what you would do next if you lost this job. With the number of times you had to call in sick, you knew your time at this job was coming to an end, just like the others.

Your boss called you into her office once again, and your heart sank.

Most of the conversation was a blur. All you could think about was how you were going to pay for rent and groceries, or the little things like your weekly movie nights with Juice.

In no time at all you were cleaning out your desk and hauling your stuff to your vehicle. You made one last trip up to make sure you hadn’t missed anything, and to say bye to your coworkers.

You were relieved to find the elevator empty. You pressed the button for the parking garage and pulled your phone out of your pocket, dialing Juice immediately.

“Hi sweetheart!” Although moments earlier you were ready to burst into tears, the sound of excitement in his voice, excitement over talking to his girl, helped keep them at bay.

“Hey- hey Juicy.”

He heard the hesitation in your voice. “Everything okay?”

You paused. “Yeah, yeah I’m good. How are you?”

He ignored your question; he could tell something was wrong. “Did something happen today?”

Tears were starting to well in your eyes again, “I’ll explain everything when I get home, okay?”

He answered reluctantly, “Okay... I’ll head over right away.” There was another pause as you tried to gather yourself. “I love you, Y/N.”

You let out an airy sigh and smiled to yourself, “I love you too, Juan.”

The line clicked and you took a deep breath as the doors opened. Stepping out of the elevator, you wiped away a single tear that had escaped. Digging for your keys in your bag, you pulled them out just as you made it to your car.

The drive home was a short one, thankfully, because the second you pulled into the parking stall at your apartment, the floodgates opened. The reality of what just happened, AGAIN, hit like a ton of bricks. Were you ever going to be able to hold down a job?

And Juice, oh gosh, Juice. Thinking about what he might say made your heart jump into your throat. What if he was tired of having to take care of you all the time? You didn’t know if you could handle any more bad news today, but that wasn’t going to stop you from telling him what happened. Though you had only been together for a little over a year at this point, Juice was the person you went to for everything. He was your other half, your soul mate, your best friend.

A few short minutes later you heard tapping on the window. Lifting your head out of your hands, you looked over to see Juice standing there, a concerned look on his face.

“Y/N! What’s wrong?!” His voice was muffled through the glass.

As you wiped away the tears that were still streaming down your face, you shut off your car and opened the door. Moments later you were in Juice’s arms, crying into his chest, unable to speak. He just held you tight, his chin resting on the top of your head, running his hands through your hair. “Shhhh- shh, shh, shh. It’s okay. Shhhh, it’s okay. I’m here. Everything is going to be alright.”

He had calmed you down enough times in the past that he knew to just let you get it all out; you would tell him what was wrong when you were ready. You weren’t sure how long you two had been standing there for, but he didn’t care.

The tears had finally stopped, and your breathing was slowly returning to normal. Pulling back, he kept his arms loosely around your shoulders and you noticed the wet marks on his t-shirt. For whatever reason, this made you laugh, and you welcomed it. A sincere laugh was just what you needed at that moment. Juice smiled right along with you, before suggesting, “let’s get you inside.”

You nodded, pressing the lock button on your car keys. Hand in hand, Juice led you up the stairs in your apartment building to your front door. Your hands were shaky, so he unlocked the door for you.

Once inside, you headed straight for the couch and slumped down.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” There was concern in his voice, as he sat down next to you.

You were unable to look him in the eyes, so you just stared at your hands. “I lost my job today, Juan. I just- I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Juice clicked his tongue and sighed deep, feeling your pain as if it were his own. “Damn... I’m so sorry Y/N.” He paused. “Did they say why?”

You laughed at his innocence. He knew about your health issues, but not about the countless jobs you’d lost in the past because of it. Looking him in the eyes, you confessed, “I’m in so much pain, all the time, I can’t even get out of bed some days, never mind making it to work.” You could feel the tears welling in your eyes once again. “This isn’t the first time it’s happened either. Almost every job I’ve had in the past, I’ve lost because of this.”

You saw Juice’s shoulders drop, as he sighed deep once again. He dropped his head, looking at your hands as he wrapped his own hands around them. He sat there for a few seconds before looking up at you again, “We’ll figure this out. I promise. There has to be a job out there for you.”

You admired his perseverance. “Yeah,” you scoffed, “I just need to find somewhere where everyone else is sick all the time and I’ll fit right in.”

Juice’s eyes lit up, “I’ll ask Gemma if they need some help at TM! I’m sure she wouldn’t mind taking some time away from all the paperwork.” He continued through a light laugh, ”pretty much everyone there has had their fair share of health issues, so they would never hold doctors appointments and calling in sick against you.” You knew he was right. “And if they do, they’ll have to answer to me,” he added with a wink.

You couldn’t help but laugh, and Juice laughed right along with you. “That would be amazing Juice. Thank you. Maybe I could come with you tomorrow and talk to Gemma? Explain my situation?”

He nodded. “Yeah, that would be good!”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Less than an hour ago your whole world was crumbling around you, but here was Juice, picking up the pieces and gluing them back together.

“I’m sorry I’m always so needy,” you laughed, “I never wanted to be that person who relied so heavily on everyone else. I want to be independent, but my body has other plans. I just- I feel like I’m taking over your entire life. Do you really want me working that close? And be honest!”

“Well... HONESTLY-“ he said, jokingly mocking you, “knowing someone needs me is- well- it’s kind of nice.” He squeezed your hands. “I’ve been alone most of my life, you know that, so please, PLEASE, don’t ever feel like you’re a burden. It’s good to know that I’m needed- wanted.”

His words made your heart flutter. Maybe this is why you two worked so well together; your relationship was a very well balanced give and take.

You noticed a look of contemplation on his face. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but he stopped himself. You gave him an inquisitive look. “What is it?”

Looking you in the eyes, he smiled, as if assuring himself that what he was about to ask wasn’t really that crazy after all.

“Move in with me.”

The look on your face said it all. There was a split second of surprise, followed by a huge smile. You tightened your grip on his hands as you leaned forward and kissed him tenderly.

Lingering on his lips for a few seconds, you finally pulled away, and before you could say anything, Juice laughed and admitted, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You were still speechless. Shifting yourself on the couch, you slid one leg overtop of his until you were straddling his lap, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You felt his hands slide along your thighs, to your waist, and up your back. He enveloped you in his strong arms and nuzzled his face into your neck, breathing in deep. “Everything is going to be okay. I promise.” All you could do was pull him tighter, and he did the same.

You never thought it would be possible to feel this comfortable and accepted by another person. How was it that you had managed to find such a loving, and giving man?

“How about we don’t go to the theatre for our movie night this time. Let’s just stay in.”

You nodded in agreement, “I would like that.”

With a smile, he stood up, your legs still wrapped around his waist and his arms still holding you close. He playfully tossed you onto the couch on your back, making you giggle.

Leaning over you, he kissed you lightly.

“How about-“

He gave you a peck on the lips.

“You stay here-“

Another kiss.

“Pick a movie-“

He kissed you through a smile this time.

“And I’ll go make popcorn.”

He was waiting for an answer, so you responded in a similar fashion. Placing a hand on the back of his neck, you pulled him towards you, kissing him softly.

“I like-

You kissed him again.

“Your plan-“

Another peck on his lips.

“Mr. Ortiz.”

You kissed him once more.

He pulled away, a huge smile on his face.

“Deal-“

This time he kissed your forehead.

As he made his way to the kitchen to microwave some popcorn, you pulled the blankets off the back of the couch and turned on the TV. You scrolled through Netflix as the smell of popcorn filled the room.

“For my lady.” Juice said as he handed you a bowl that was overflowing with popcorn.

“Thank you, sir.” You responded as you took the bowl from him.

You two curled up under a pile of blankets, hand in hand, and watched movies until you fell asleep.