#those are chess pieces shut up

[commander-chaoss]

This is literally the first time I've drawn Aoife successfully. Someone end me

[thisismeracing]

To be alone with you | CS55

― Pairing: Carlos Sainz x fem!reader ― Warnings: mentions of food; typos. ― Summary: A glimpse into Yn's little reading world and how Carlos supports her passion. ― A/n: None of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps, but the work is, and I do not allow it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

yourusername

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, and others

yourusername slow afternoons with books, coffee, and my lover 🤍 to be alone with you 🤍 (I am obsessed with the copy of 'the book of disquiet' he got me, te amo, carlito!)

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carlossainz55 te quiero, cariño 💓

carlossainz55 I just got to chapter five of that book, answer my messages my mind is *blowing* 🤯

⤷ yourusername going goingggg

⤷ yourusername I told you you would like it!!!!!

sillyseason_ did yn just turn carlos into a reader or am I tripping?

lecsainz I love her aesthetic so much

hammertimee can you imagine reading fernando pessoa from the original? I'm so jealous of her, omw to get myself enrolled into a Portuguese course .............

carlossainz55

liked by yourbestie, lewishamilton, and others

carlossainz55 Still don't get her thing for coffee, but I get it for her anyways ☕️

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yourusername teamooo

landonorris disgusting 🤢

⤷ yourusername singleee 🫵😂

⤷ landitofour LMAO

sainzsantification she really got him into books bruh

nicoraspberry he gets her flowers, read with her, posts her regularly, buys her coffee, I- 🥹

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and others

yourusername It's not my bday, I just reached my reading goal faster than ever so mrs. funny pants decided to do this 🥸

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carlossainz55 Mrs. Funny pants huh? 🤨

⤷ yourusername yeah, but your humor won me over

⤷ landonorris he's not even that funny, yn

⤷ alex_albon are you kidding me? don't you remember the MaRÍA CAREI video?!

⤷ yourusername LMAO😭😭😂😂😂

lando.jpg

liked by pierregasly, danielricciardo, and others

lando.jpg went on a date with these two and it was awful 👎👎👎

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yourusername liar! you asked us to let you join again!

⤷ lando.jpg you made me thrid wheel the whole time

⤷ oscarpiastri it's not their fault you're single, lando

⤷ carlossainz55 yeah, next time invite oscar too!

⤷ yourusername yay double date! 🥳

⤷ lando.jpg I'm not going!!!

norizzricciardo is that carlos wearing converse?

⤷ lando.jpg no, it's me :)

⤷ formulaten OMG LANDO AND YN MATCHING SHOES GKJSDKHJS besties goal

yourusername

liked by francisca.cgomes, mclaren, and others

yourusername he joined us 😜😁 (and osc too)

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oscarpastry they really did the double date thing LOL

landonorris you take your coffee terribly 🤢

⤷ yourusername I'm gonna call the team's nutritionist and tell them you take your sugar with a bit of coffee

⤷ carlossainz55 ayyy cabron jajajajaj

oscarpiastri it feels great to be a chess winner 😎

⤷ mclatas81 soon to be f1 winner 🧡

mclaren 😍😍😍

formulareader osc 😭 she called him osc 😭

yourusername

liked by landonorris, scuderiaferrari, and others

yourusername best Sunday ever ❤️🏎️ (also I loved the paddock's coffee!)

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scuderiaferrari we loved to have you, yn! 😍

⤷ mclaren us too, yn! you should watch the next race from our garage (we'll get you all the coffee you want!)

⤷ scuderiaferrari shut up 🙄

⤷ carlossainz55 you guys know she's MY girlfriend, right?

⤷ yourusername yes and I'll watch from merc garage next race! 🫣 lew invited me 🤭

⤷ carlossainz55 ¿qué?

⤷ mercedesamgf1 hehe 😌😎

schumischumi lmfao not the admins fighting over yn

hammert1m3 she did charles so dirty HAHAHAH

charles_leclerc hated the pic, but love you

⤷ landonorris you won't join the besties dates!

⤷ yourusername I already invited him :(

⤷ landonorris omg I thought it was an exclusive club!

⤷ pierregasly I was invited too

tifosidirectioner she's so simple yet so glowy, I love her energy! 💗

booktoker22 f1 romance books rec?

bieberselenator it's like she's carlos' lucky charm

szagooddays I want what they have so bad

monzatwentytwo day 352 of feeling single than ever with carlosyn posts 😺👍

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi! I hope you guys liked this piece! This is part of that convo about posting my drafts hihi so yeah, here goes another one :D no twitter edit this time, hope this was ok, AND with tons of fluffy and funny moments after that angsty wave (that will come back bc I have at least three other angsty wips hihi sorree). let me know your thoughts!

If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘

▸ check my main masterlist | patreon guide and my taglist.

taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @callsign-scully @dearxcherry @elliegrey2803 @peachiicherries @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @the-depressed-fellow @cixrosie @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit @goldenalbon @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @nzygftoji @leclercsluv @bbreezybitch @graciewrote @alessioayla @littlesatanicassholebitch @barcelonaloverf1life @noncannonships @fanboyluvr @is-just-a @love4lando @woozarts @namgification @formulaal @v1naco @skepvids

©thisismeracing ― do not copy, steal, or translate my work; do not repost on a different media platform.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Digital Circus with a Mime Reader, who CAN speak but prefers to use sign language and gestures: they find find Kaufmo in the middle of abstracting and try to calm him down (against their better judgement). It doesn't go well, ending with them locking and closing Kaufmo's door, and running to find Caine... Only to hear the theme song suddenly stop and Jax say something about a "new character" as they approach...

Ough finally some Kaufmo angst-

........

Approaching Kaufmo's door, you stopped in front of it and politely knocked, wanting to check up on him before Caine could summon everybody to perform the Digital Circus' "theme song" musical number.

As of late, your fellow clown hasn't been feeling up to snuff, since apparently nobody was laughing at his jokes anymore...

Although said jokes have all mentioned something about an exit--a way out of the digital realm you've grown quite comfortable living in. But even when he is dead serious, the others are convinced he's only kidding around, pretending to laugh and sometimes asking him if he could joke about something else.

Least to say...it grew frustrating for him.

The only reason he hadn't totally lost it yet was because of you, a mime who has lived in the circus for the past five months and befriended him quickly. Together you've put on many acts: with his wacky props and your invisible techniques, your shows were amusing to all.

That being said, you didn't want your longtime partner to think about any exits too much, as you've lost several friends in the past when they started talking about the same thing.

It happened to Queener, Kinger's beloved wife, and the poor chess piece has been on the brink of abstraction ever since (honestly, it's a miracle he didn't immediately follow her).

Fortunately, he remained stable enough to be around everyone.

As for Kaufmo?

He didn't look so good last night at dinner, and you haven't seen him all morning. Normally he'd be up and about, juggling random things as he walked or approaching you to brainstorm new acts to perform.

Him locking himself away in his room was not normal.

Especially when he knew this musical number was super important to Caine.

After waiting a minute or two, you perked up as he finally answered the door.

At first you smiled in greeting, although that was quick to fade when he only kept it open just a crack--enough for you to barely see his face...

Which bore a terrified expression underneath his runny makeup, making his frown look worse than it actually is. His hat was nowhere to be found, either.

''Are you okay, Kaufmo?" You signed, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

That was your usual way of talking, despite knowing you could very well speak freely. You had no clue if you were proficient in sign language before entering this circus, but regardless it always came in handy, and everybody did their best to communicate with you that way (or at least those with fingers, unlike Zooble or Gangle).

Since your performances usually involved silence and expressive gestures, you didn't see a need to talk often--and that was usually fine with Kaufmo, who'd always chatter with you in sign language right back.

But when he attempted to respond, you swore you both saw his own hands glitching, before he quickly retracted them, clearly frightened.

You, on the other hand, wanted to believe it was just a "digital hallucination".

That's all it was...right?

"I-I'm sorry, [y/n]..haven't been..feeling like myself-f-f lately.." Even his own voice was betraying him, as it sounded distorted, lagging as though he was a slow computer program. "But you believe me, don't you?"

"Believe what?"

"The...the exit, of course! The thing I've been talking about this whole time!! It's real! There IS a way out!! I-I can show you!!"

You blinked, before shaking your head. "Kaufmo, let me in."

"Oh no, I think that's a bad id--wait! Wait!!" Despite his pleas for you to stop, you forced your way into his room, shutting the door behind you so nobody else could intrude or eavesdrop.

The last thing you needed was Caine listening in.

Yet after taking a look around at the state of his quarters--with everything being a complete mess and the word "EXIT" scrawled onto every square inch of the ceiling and walls--you were nothing short of terrified for his mental well-being.

'My god....what has he done..?' You thought to yourself, mortified.

"No, no, no, no!!"

Looking back at Kaufmo, you saw him back up against the wall, holding his face as black glitchy polygons started appearing on his body. He gasped in horror, looking at his hands...and then up at you.

"What's..h-happening to me-e-e?"

Your heart sunk, knowing exactly what was going on.

"You're abstracting.." You whispered, your voice small yet shaken.

"I-I didn't...think I'd be next...it hurts so much! Christ-!!!" He began crying, his makeup oozing as he stared at you with empty, soulless black eyes. One of his arms was already taken over by the glitches, morphing into a large one covered in jagged polygons.

"Make it stop..MAKE IT STOP!!!" He screamed, slumping to the floor.

You were frozen in a state of panic, unsure if you should go get Caine or stay here and try to pull him out of his abstraction.

Either way, you had to do something fast...lest you lose him forever or become infected yourself.

"Just focus on me, pal. I'm here. I'm here." Kneeling down, you grasped his non-glitching hand tightly with both of yours, attempting to guide him through a breathing exercise.

"You'll get through this." You mouthed, but he just shook his head, noticing a single glowing eye forming on the surface of the glitchy flesh.

"Wh-Whatever you do...don't tell Caine, I beg you-u.." He pleaded. "He'll lock me away...a-and I'll be all alone in the dark..I don't wanna be alone.."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you shook your head, and he gazed at you in confusion. "What do you mean "no"? You'd let him throw me into the cellar with the rest of them...?" He started to grow angrier, feeling betrayed. "I thought we were partners!"

"We are partners, Kaufmo. Always will be." You sighed, wishing there was another way to stop this from happening. "But there's nothing more I can do...he needs to know-"

"Fine...maybe things will be better if I'm not around to tell my stupid jokes anymore."

"Kaufmo-"

"Go....run, [y/n]...run-n-n-nnNNNN------"

Immediately after he said that, you let him go right as his other hand quickly became overtaken by the abstraction, almost taking you with it.

You got up and took a step backwards, watching in mute terror as he rapidly grew in size, turning into a massive amalgamation of glitch black polygons. Even more glowy-trippy eyes were popping up in different places, looking in every direction.

Within seconds, Kaufmo no longer resembled the clown you once knew (or a person, in general)....but was instead replaced by a horrific digital beast with a long neck, standing on four legs.

You gulped as every single eye on his body suddenly shifted to stare directly down at you.

'Uh-oh-'

You hastily created an invisible wall just as he lunged at you with a ferocious roar, slamming right into the illusion like a bird smacking into a glass pane.

'He still falls for the oldest trick in the book..oh Kaufmo..'

Although it pained your heart to abandon him like this, he was too far gone to be saved. He didn't even recognize you anymore.

The only thing you could do now was get Caine before he harmed you or anybody else--even if it means you never saw him again. He could very well threaten the entire stability of this world if he got loose.

You quickly ran out of the room just before he could break through the "wall" and go after you, slamming the door shut and locking it tight.

Moments later, you heard him ram into it, the hinges damn near breaking off (but by the grace of cartoon physics, that didn't happen).

You wiped the sweat from your forehead, making a mad dash out of the dormitory section of the tent in a desperate search for Caine.

Unfortunately, you could already hear Bubble's singing in the distance as the gang's musical number routine was already starting:

"Gangle, and Zooble, and Kinger, too~!"

You ran as fast as your legs could possibly carry you. They were already aware of both of your absences, and they chose to go on with the song anyways.

'Jerks..they couldn't at least wait for me?' You huffed. 'Caine never tells us when we're doing these musical ditties-'

By the time you arrived, however, you heard the music abruptly cut out.

You stopped upon seeing your friends tumbled over each other on the floor, with Gangle's comedy mask being broken and Jax picking himself up in annoyance.

"Caine, is this one of your NPCs or is this a new sucker?"

Blinking, you glanced at the new person he was referring to, surprised to see a girl dressed as a red and blue jester.

"........."

Now you couldn't say anything to Caine.

Not right now, at least.

[jangmi-latte]

you will never shut me up i swear.

in a game of chess, there's often a king and queen, right? those who represents queens are vil schoenheit and riddle rosehearts and those in the position of kings are leona kingscholar and malleus draconia.

if you look at it this way, in chess, the queens are free to go wherever they like. they have the widest range of movement next to the rook. however, a king is simply restricted to one move at a time.

going back to twst, vil and riddle are often in charge, making their own moves and rules both in the dorm and their own life. however, compared to vil, riddle is also seen (to which he also calls himself) as the king of hearts. vil has the freedom and power to do whatever he likes, whatever he plans, and whatever he needs to. while riddle has the same fate, he is still restricted to watch his movements one by one based on how he grew up. thus, vil is a queen and riddle is both king and queen.

now, to the two kings, malleus and leona. in leona's union birthday story we saw how these two relates STRONGLY to wanting to be left alone and have the freedom to go and do anything they want. however, by the status of their birth (as princes) they have to watch their steps and actions as they do not have the freedom to do so. it's a restricted game for them, life to them is literally a chess board.

and a bonus for pomefiore, rook and vil are often seen working together which, in chess, the rook and the queen often move freely with the rook giving way for the queen to do her movements while also protecting that piece at the same time <3

[impishjesters]

Platonic! Kinger x Reader

warning(s): none note: Inspired by a previous request involving being nice to Kinger A/N: Look Grandpa Kinger is something I didn't know I needed. He's no match for my love of Jax but he's definitely got a special place in the cavity where my heart would be

Kinger was an interesting character when you first met him, Jax likes to point and call him crazy any chance he gets—and it’s true, he’s not all there but uh, a long time in this place would get to anyone

The old man barely remembers your name in the beginning but you don’t take it personally

Honestly, it’s kind of like having a grandpa all over again except you know, he looks like a chess piece that a child slapped doll eyes on

Jax likes to call you Kinger’s babysitter. Along with some type of insult that implies he’s a deranged grandparent in need of a retirement home

Where you are, Kinger isn’t too far off. At this point he sort of just follows you around unless he gets too paranoid to leave, or gets distracted.

Psspsspss c’mere grandpa, look at this lil bug collection

You’ve actually gone to Caine and asked if it was possible to acquire said bug collection, nothing over the top but something you could give to Kinger and let him tell you all the weird bug facts.

Caine not only whips up a little bug collection but even manages to give you a big book on bugs (ick, bugs)

“Did you know that wasps feeding on fermented juice have been known to get drunk and pass out?”

“I did not. Those little fells know how to party huh?”

“Party? Where? Is it someone’s birthday?”

Kinger’s never said it while others are around, or probably even to you, unless he did and forgot. Did he? Either way, he’s happy that you are around and spend time with him.

He’ll tell you stories, all fake and made up mind you but it’s entertaining nevertheless (his excitement is precious, shut up)

Kinger has without a doubt, in public or private, called you “kid” or “kiddo” before

[ideas-scattered-dreams]

/ / LIAR!

Fandoms: Twisted wonderland AU: Overblot - SADNESS

ANGER - SADNESS (YOU'RE HERE)

Imagine that...

Liar, crowley is a damn big fat liar. he promised to get u back to ur world, yet made u worked countless of pointless jobs. made u do all the things that lazy crow cant do. and what does he give u in return? NOTHING. not even a home to go to.. your own home. Why did the tsumtsums get to go home quickly? weren't they in the same situation as you?

you were walking in the hallway towards crowleys office with heavy steps. fist clenched while holding a letter (the letter littered with dark ink).. the crumbled piece of paper looked like it was for crowley.. it looks like it was sent after the week u defeated overblot riddle.. lets rewind a bit.. the time where the letter was in the pile of all the stacked up paperwork that crowley dumped onto you..

you were curious on what the message was written.. the letter was burnt and looked like the one who received this letter tried to burn it, rip it, or in general just get rid of it.. though, looks like it failed. you began to read it.. your expressions morphed into shock, happy, and then anger. this letter.. this was the one.. the key to getting back home.. you looked at the date it was sent of.. it was.. after riddles overblot.

Your eyes tremble from looking at the number.. huh? that.. long ago? why.. why didn't he.. you teeth began to clack and brows furrowed.. a few dark ink dripped from your fingernails and legs..

now you were Infront of crowleys door. a dark look in your eyes. this wasn't fair.. not fair.. not FAIR! you spent your days working away with work waiting oh so patiently for crowley to find u a way back home.. yet he didn't! why?! was it because he found u useful? were u just a toy for him to use to go out and play?! disgusting.

dark ink began to continuously drip from u are u slowly open the door startling Crowley who was reading a manga? well that didn't matter.

u slammed the letter onto his desk while looking straight at those glowing eyes behind his mask. "headmage.. please tell me.. what is the meaning of this letter.." u asked voice filled with visible anger and betrayal as u dipped your head down. crowley took the letter that was placed onto his desk and read it. he read over the contents as his expression morphed into shock.

"prefect.. how did you get this letter.." he spoke with caution as he crumbled that letter and placed it over the candle making it turn into ashes. your eyes narrowed and looked at the ashes that fell.. the only letter of your key has been destroyed. "i do not know where u got that letter from but it is rude to snoop and read of someones elses privacy. didn't your parents teach you such manners?" he sighed and sat down.

you eye twitched as u tremble on your spot. "how could my parents teach me when i cant even go back home because of you." you spat out making crowley frown. "your disrespect is going off limits prefect. i suggest u apologize and leave, maybe i will let u off the hook as i am -" you slammed your foot down making shockwaves sending crowley to hold onto the desk as the ground crack.

"SHUT UP!" the blot began to grow larger in size and u grip your hair in frustration. "i have learned the truth crowley. how much more are u gonna lie and gaslight me?! i have waited and waited and waited for the time, i get to finally go home! to get embrace by my parents and friends! i have a future ahead and your ruining for me!!" you started to let out angry tears and u fell to the ground and cried. "ITS NOT FAIR! LOOK AT THE TSUMMIES! THE GET TO GO HOME EARLY WHILE I HAVE BEEN HERE LONG ENOUGH!!"

The shockwave of your voice made the walls crack as crowley called for backup, he was shaking and looking at your form. your body started to get covered with blot as u cried tears of dark ink. "WAS IT BECAUSE I COULD FIX THE OVERBLOTS?! WAS I JUST A SINGLE CHESS PIECE FOR U?!!!" you continued to cry and cry as the blot spread even faster, it was also covering the walls and floor.

"prefect!" the first years and grim entered the door to figure out what the commotion was about. but they never expect this scene..

"its unfair unfairunfairunfairunfair unfairunfair unfairunfair unfairunfair unfairunfair unfairunfair unfairunfair unfairunfair unfairunfair unfairunfair unfairunfair unfairunfair....." you kept repeating the word as the time abruptly stopped. the air was filled with toxin of gas much like vils overblot.. yet stronger with the emotion.

.....

it was dark. your tears wont stop coming. u felt.. dissapointed in yourself. the solution was there all along.. the happiness and freedom u have been waiting for.. yet.. it was just swatted away with no remorse. with no other objections but to decline it. was it punishment? you have been a good child... why.. why did this happen to me.. "mama? i am scared.. please.. i need you.."

"mama.. mommy.. wahhh.!!!!!" you screamed making the building/office collapse, the people in the near area were thrown as u finally get consumed by blot.

.......

was this a dream..? please.. let this be a dream.. i didn't mean to let my emotions go.. i didn't.. u understand me right..? overblot me?

'YOU' smiled as 'YOU' embraced you. you hugged them tightly. as u sniffle and let your tears come out. "it wasn't fair.. it wasn't but i'm glad u understand me.. you were always here for me.. you wont leave me right?" you frowned and held them close. 'YOU' looked at you and grinned. "of course.. i will never leave... ever. so lets stay in our world together.. forever.." you looked at them and nodded.

ignoring the bloody scene that was infront and back.. and a single feathered hat lying ontop of the piles of bodies.. it was just a dream (name) so dont ever leave.

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

harry potter timeline sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER ELEVEN (see full series list here)

1993

You find yourself sitting in the Tower again. You dangle a string of wool in front of Dubh and she joyfully bats at it with her front paws. You smile lovingly at her, chuckling when she misses the wool and lands on your knee instead. The sky above you has darkened, and you look out over the grounds.

It's the best view in the castle, of course. You get to see the near-entirety of the grounds in all its glory. The Black Lake is still and calm; the tree' leaves are swaying lazily in the light evening breeze; the dark, scruffy dog is pattering across the grass...

You blink, and the dog is gone. You sigh, falling back to the floor and lying down, staring up at the sky above you.

Twinkling lights dot the sky above you, winking at you. Part of you likes to think that those stars have souls. That they can see you right now, and are wondering why you're admiring them so much. To them, they're just balls of gas. To you, they're the most beautiful thing in the world.

You think on the day, remembering your visit to Hagrid early this morning. The poor man was in bits, all torn up over Buckbeak. Hagrid doesn't deserve such stress and worry, and neither does Buckbeak.

A few clouds are scattered around, passing over the bright, full moon. Your mind turns to Remus: he is no doubt sitting in his office right now, all wolfish, probably having a hankering for red meat. You offered to stay with him on full moons, but he refused. Despite the Wolfsbane potion allowing him to keep his mind during the transformation, rendering him harmless, he stipulated that he wanted to be alone, just in case something went wrong.

You don't want him to be alone, but you respect his wishes anyway.

You've known Remus is a werewolf for a very long time. You weren't even meant to find out about Remus' lycanthropy, but you used to get so worried about him at school. He was always exhausted, always disappearing on full moons, not eating well...it had gotten to the point where you cornered him in the library and expressed your concerns for him. You asked him to tell you what was wrong because you couldn't watch any longer, worried that something bad was keeping him up at night.

And, well, you weren't wrong. But he confided in you, just like he had his other friends, and from then on you did everything you could to help him. While the boys spent full moons with him, you ensured he got enough rest during the remainder of the month, made him his favourite teas, helped with keeping his secret secure...he became like a brother to you.

Your school days are something you treasure immensely. Everything was just so right. When you and Sirius starting dating Christmas of your sixth year, everything clicked into place. It felt like you had another family at Hogwarts.

You and Sirius whispered to each other during late nights in the common room, and you would trace the outlines of his tattoos as you listened to him talk.

You, Lily, and Alice shared things together that you never could share with anyone else.

You and Remus played chess with each other and always forgot about using strategy, instead choosing to just try and annihilate as many of the other's pieces as possible.

You and James played Exploding Snap, which always ended with the ends of his hair singed and him sulking when he lost.

You helped Peter prepare himself for his first date, making sure he was mentally ready and feeling confident.

Life was much simpler.

The clouds part and the moon reveals itself, casting a glow around it. In the distance, you hear a wolf howling, and for a moment you think it's Remus, before you shake your head. He's in his office, probably sleeping it off right now.

Speaking of sleep, you feel extremely comfortable where you are right now. You let your eyelids drift shut and fall into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

You wake some time later, the cold air nipping at your arms. You sit up groggily, yawning. You nudge Dubh and she wakes, getting up to follow you out of the Tower. As you're opening the door to your room, you realise you left your wand up there and quickly run back up the stairs to grab it.

You locate the item on your desk, stuffing it into your pocket, momentarily getting distracted by a scuff mark on the desk, wondering how that got there.

There's a heavy thud from the other side of the room.

You look up.

Your heart stops.

There, at the railing, is Buckbeak, Hagrid's giant Hippogriff. And on his back is Harry, Hermione, and...Sirius. He hops down, facing you.

You lock eyes and your name rolls off his tongue softly, and never has it sounded so perfect.

He's wearing shabby Azkaban clothes, which are ripped and tattered everywhere. His skin is dirty and his face is sunken with dark bags under his eyes. He's grown a beard and his hair has gotten even longer, but has become matted.

"Sirius?" you choke, frozen in place. "Are you really there?"

He nods, a small smile on his face. "Yes, my love. I'm here."

You take a tentative step forward, unsure really whether you are dreaming or not. The rational part of your brain is telling you to stop, to run in the other direction — this is a convict in front of you, after all!

But your heart makes all the decisions for you. It reaches out, desperately trying to get to its other half because truly, you were half a heart without him.

Your steps are slow and it feels like hours have passed before you finally stop in front of him. You hesitantly reach out, placing your hand against his chest.

"Please, tell me I'm not dreaming," you whisper.

Sirius brings his hand up to cover yours, moving it to press over where his heart is, where you can feel his racing heart beat. You can see a scar on his pinky finger, one he told you he got during a game of 'Pin the Tail on Kreacher' with Regulus when he was eight.

You feel tears prick your eyes, looking back into the face of the man you love more than anything in the world. You bring shaky hands up to his face, holding it delicately, like you're afraid he's going to break.

"I missed you," you say softly. "I missed you so much, Sirius."

"I missed you too," he replies. "How is it that you look just as beautiful today as you looked on our wedding day?"

You give a watery chuckle, sniffling. "Sirius Black, forever the flirt."

You lean forward and press your lips against his. This, this feeling. The overwhelming sense of feeling right where you belong, in the arms of the man you love. His lips are chapped but you don't care. His skin is rough but you don't care. His beard scratches against you but you don't care. You don't care about anything other than the fact that he's here with you. He's finally here.

"Please, darling..." he starts, taking a deep breath and gazing at you. "It wasn't me. I promise you with everything I have to give that I didn't kill those people, I was never a Death Eater — "

"I know."

" — I would never do that to James and Lily — "

"I know."

He pauses, looking at you in surprise. "You know?"

"I know, Siri," you say gently. "I believe you, I trust you. I know you. I've spent the last twelve years of my life believing you're innocent. I know you would never do that."

He opens his mouth to say something but can't seem to find the words. "You — you smart girl. My smart girl. My perfect, smart, beautiful girl..."

His eyes are brimming with tears as he keeps them fixed on you, before he pulls you into his chest and holds you tightly, burying his face in your hair.

"I love you. I love you. I love you so much," he says, kissing your cheek. "Going so long without you has been torture."

"It's been torture for me too," you reply. "I love you. I love you more than anything, Sirius." You smile at him before adding, "And you have seriously got to take a shower. Why don't you come down to my room and get all cleaned up?"

Sirius pulls away, giving you an uncertain look and you sigh. He glances back at Harry and Hermione, who you've pretty much forgotten are even there.

"We...don't have a lot of time left," Hermione says apologetically.

"I'm sorry, my love," Sirius says, pressing his forehead against yours. "I have to go."

You clutch onto his arms desperately, shaking your head. "No, no. You — you can't go. You can't leave me again, Sirius. No, please. Please. Please don't do this to me again. Why leave when I've just found you again?"

Tears stream down your face and Sirius reaches out to brush them away with his thumb. "I have to, darling. The Ministry'll be here any moment now, looking for me. I can't put you in danger like that."

"I'll come with you!" You try. "Please, we can go away together — we'll figure something out, just please, don't leave me again. I've been without you for too long, please — "

"I can't do that to you," he says weakly. "You have to stay."

"Sirius, please — "

"Stay," he says, kissing your forehead. "I'll find you again. I will always find my way back to you, no matter how far."

You let out a quiet sob and kiss him again, desperate for even the slightest bit of contact with him to remind you that you actually have him here with you.

"Please, darling. Stay here," he tells you firmly. "You'll be okay."

"I just — I've been waiting for this for too long," you say weakly. "I hoped I'd have you for longer."

He brings you hand to his lips, kissing your fingers lovingly. "I know, I know. We'll meet again and then — it'll be like I never left."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

He lets go of you, and it takes all of your willpower not to grab ahold of him again and never let go. Harry and Hermione jump off of Buckbeak, looking at each other awkwardly.

Sirius pulls Harry in for a hug, smiling proudly at him. "You are — truly your father's son, Harry."

Hermione looks at her watch nervously. "Quick, quick, you don't have time!"

Sirius takes one last glance back at you as he climbs up onto Buckbeak's back. He sends a wink your way and you shake your head amusedly, sighing.

He squeezes Buckbeak's sides with his heels. The enormous wings of the Hippogriff rise and you step back slightly, watching as it takes off into the air. Sirius and Buckbeak steadily become smaller and smaller until a cloud drifts past and...they're gone.

You swallow hard, sniffling as you brush tears off your cheeks. Before they can leave, you grab Harry and Hermione and pull them both in for a tight hug.

"Thank you, thank you both so much," you say. "You — you are the most wonderful children I have ever met — you brought him back to me, how did you ever do it? How can I ever thank you?"

"It's nothing, really — " Harry says sheepishly.

"Nothing? You have both just given me the best gift in the world," you say with a smile. Hermione is looking at her watch again and you let go. "Go, go on. You look like you have somewhere to be."

Hermione nods, grabbing Harry's arm and they turn to run down the stairs.

"Oh, and Harry!" You call after him. He stops for a second and you give him a smile. "Come find me when you have some free time. I'm sure you have a few questions to ask."

He nods affirmatively and they run off again.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

"YOU!" Snape bursts into the Astronomy Tower, looking outraged. "You — what did you do?!"

You look up innocently from your desk, watching as Snape climbs to the top of the stairs, red-faced and angry. He's out of breath — you don't know if it's because he's angry or because walking up those stairs is about the most exercise he's gotten in a decade.

Behind him, comes Fudge and Dumbledore. Fudge is huffing and puffing, and when he reaches the top he lays a hand against the wall as he breathes in and out.

"You — you did something!" Snape snaps. "How else could he have escaped?"

"How else could who have escaped?"

"BLACK!"

"Well, I'd have a hard time getting him out of Azkaban, wouldn't I?"

Snape looks like he's about to burst. A vein is popping out in his neck and his eyes are bulging.

"HE — WAS — CAUGHT — AND — NOW — HE'S — GONE — "

"Wait, he was caught?" You ask, feigning oblivion.

Fudge nods. "Yes, we had caught him perfectly well...the Dementors were going to perform the Kiss — "

You slam your book down on the table, standing up from your chair, staring Fudge down. "Do you mean to say that the Dementors' Kiss was going to performed on my husband without my knowledge?"

Fudge visibly swallows, glancing at Dumbledore helplessly, who chooses to become fixated on one of the constellations on the wall.

"Well, er...we reviewed our options and seen that — um — we didn't have the time to inform you — "

"Bullshit," you spit. "You could have easily told me, you just weren't bothered, were you? Some Minister you are."

Fudge splutters, face going red.

Snape is still shaking with fury beside him. He jabs his finger in your direction. "YOU DID IT, I KNOW YOU DID — "

"That is enough, Severus. Why, the portrait of Eloria Floria in the corridor told us that she had not left the Tower since she first entered it three hours ago," Dumbledore says calmly.

Fudge glances at his watch. "Well, I suppose there is nothing more to it than that. I'd better go and notify the Ministry of this..."

Snape is seething. Absolutely seething. He gives one fuming look in your direction, before storming down the stairs once more. It's nearly comical because it's purely silent in the Tower but for the clunking of Snape's footfalls against the stairs, his anger evident in his heavy stomps.

It reminds you of a young child throwing a tantrum.

→ all kinds of interaction are appreciated ♡

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

->-> read chapter twelve here!

sorry for the shortish chapter but I just really wanted to get this one out. They've finally reunited!!!

+ a big thank you to my taglist loves for all their support and kindness:

@wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @carpe000diem @hyperspeedo

[hootbon]

Since I saw someone else talking about their fucked up ideas, I am too lol because I suddenly remebered them. But, pretty much just how my lore making brain decides to look at characters.

Kinger: He’s a king chess piece, obviously. He didn’t have to work for that position, unlike the queen, no chess piece can ever become the king, but a pawn can prove itself and become a queen, in a way. Kinger is now forced to be a lowly magician, because he never had to work for anything on his way up. Cracks from pressure, knowing he didn’t do anything, and now has to make up for it, whist his queen, the one who worked to gain that role, is no longer around

Ragatha: A rag doll, something that is quite literally a toy, old, not many people would chose that sort of doll over the newer kinds. Tossed around, ripped, lost, decapitated— so what? It’s a doll. If the doll breaks, you can just sew her back together again. If she does something wrong, you can watch her unravel in front of your eyes until you decide to stitch her back together again, though no one really cares for fixing her. She can be replaced easily, and so easily broken, used and abused by people endlessly, that’s what she’s made for. If she gets too chatty, you can just take out your thread and needle to shut her up

Pomni: A ballerina, she looks quite beautiful when she dances, she is a living ‘doll’, a puppet. A puppet by the strings, not much she can do, but be there helplessly as the ringmaster tugs them. A puppet, also a doll, are just used by someone else’s hand, she has no control over what they might make her do in the circus, and she never will.

Gangle and Aingle: The two sisters, ‘twins’ even if one of them doesn’t actually exist. A false persona, a forever toxic relationship, in a way. Bound to someone who looks like you, is always around you, but acts nothing like you do, wants to be the opposite of you, in a way. With all that ribbon, Caine could really tie the loose ends of the circus, like the abstraction issue for example…

Zooble: Quite handy with a thread and needle if they do say so themselves. Almost like the druggie of the whole group, they let intrusive thoughts kick in one day and than… they could never have enough. Dysphoric, their body never looked normal anyways in the first place, so it didn’t matter if they took parts of those now gone and tried to use them to fill the void of their own ever ending spiral of lack of self-esteem, right? They never liked the person in the mirror, so they change it every day, it only feels normal to be scavenging the halls after hair raising screams of pain can be heard in the hallway, sewing parts together to make something they enjoyed. A bad habit? Of course not, they never see it that way, they are simply making use of what others never appreciated, and now aren’t around to appreciate

Jax: The fluffy murder set bunny, we all love him. His silly little pranks go from sudden silly string ambushes, to agonizingly terrible ways for any mortal being to die— good thing you can’t! Caine would never let you. He’s just a bunny, a sweet little guy who wants nothing else but to put a smile on your face— well, that’s a lie, all he wants now is to satisfy his needs, and out a smile on his face. What is he thinking? You’ll probably never know, ever since Kaufmo disappeared for a few hours and came back, starting to act differently from normal, Jax acts like it’s the end of the world. Silly Jax, it’s just all fun and games! Kaufmo needed some help, so Caine got our friendly twins to help tie up those loose ends!

…Basically random shit, character design analogies and random ominous comments I thought of on the spot for these guys

.

[ominous-auburn-orbs]

Can you do a fanfic for Kinger and Caine's first kiss with mild NSFW

Here's some dialogue for help

Kinger: Wow.

Caine: Yeah.

Kinger: That was...intense.

Caine: Yeah.

This. This one was a struggle. But you were nice enough to give me dialogue. If you read my stuff for plot, there's not a lot of that to be found here lmao.

Also, same warnings as in the ask, slight NSFW, but it's basically just them semi-failing at making out like the sillies they are.

Kinger and Caine stood outside of the tent, watching the sunset. They held each other's hands, enjoying this moment of peace. Kinger eventually spoke up.

"Hey, Caine?" The ringmaster looked to him, immediately giving Kinger his undivided attention, although that was far from irregular. "This is our 7th date, right?"

"Indeed it is, my dear! It's sweet that you've been keeping count." It took a few moments, but the tone of Kinger's question started to sink in. "Wait, is something special meant to be happening? Is- does the 7th date hold a sort of significance? Was I meant to get you something specific? I-I'm so so sorry, my darling, I didn't-"

"No no no, you're fine!" Kinger chuckled, "There's nothing too important about the 7th date. At least, I don't remember there being. I was more referring to... our progress in our relationship."

"Why, whatever do you mean?"

"Well, we've been together for a little while now, and we, uh, haven't even kissed." His voice trailed off slightly. He knew he'd kissed people before, but all of those memories had a dream-like quality to them. He hadn't done much of anything romantic since he got stuck in the circus, so it felt like he was about to have his first kiss overall. It did make him feel rather self-conscious before it even began, worried that he'd do something wrong or embarrassing and ruin the moment.

"Oh. Yes, you're right, we haven't. I have done research on that, and kissing is allegedly a staple part of romantic relationships. But, I'm not quite sure how we'd go about it, considering our severe lack of lips." Caine chose not to admit that he had near to know idea on how to kiss someone, despite his extensive research. Very, very extensive.

Kinger brought Caine's hand to his cheek, requiring the ringmaster to fly in order to reach him. "How about we try anyway? Just use our collective knowledge, and... experiment, until we find something that feels right."

Caine felt heat spread across his gums. "A-alright, that sounds, uh, good. Very good."

Unsure, the two started to lean towards each other, Caine's teeth and eyes shut tight. Eventually, their faces touched, causing them to relax a bit more. Kinger moved the spot where his mouth would be against Caine's teeth. It did have a similar sensation to what kissing had felt like. Or perhaps he was remembering wrong. Either way, he loved it.

Caine opened his mouth partially, nibbling on Kinger's face, which was admittedly more pleasurable than he thought it would be, although the chess piece did have to hold in a laugh at the mental image of what their current situation would look like.

The ringmaster opened his mouth further. He remembered that he had read about how people would use their tongue to show more affection and passion, so he somewhat awkwardly ran his tongue across Kinger's 'mouth', which drew unexpected noises from both of them.

Since Caine didn't need to breathe and only God knew how Kinger's respiratory system worked, they continued this for a while. Saliva dripped down the front of Kinger's face, but he didn't care enough to stop. In an attempt to further chase the feeling of what he could only describe as his chest exploding from the inside, Caine bit Kinger's face, although harder than he intended.

"Ow-" Kinger pulled away, bringing a hand up to where he had been bit, but stopped before he touched it. There was no lasting mark on his wood, and the pain wasn't that bad. He started to think about how he wouldn't have minded Caine doing it again, but decided to leave that new feeling for another day.

"Oh my goodness, I am so sorry, my sweetness, are you okay?" Both of their faces were bright red and their collars were crumpled from where they had been grasping at each other to try and get closer.

The chess piece wiped at his face to clean off some of Caine's spit. "I-it's fine, I'm fine, I promise." Kinger put one of his hands on the ringmaster's shoulder and the other on his waist, while Caine encircle his 'neck' with his arms. "That was- it was a lot."

"Yes, a-a lot would be a good way of describing it." They continued to stand there in each other's embrace. Well, Kinger standing and Caine floating. "Did you like it, though?"

Kinger was silent for a moment before pressing his face to Caine's teeth. "Yes, I did. I'd love to do it again some time, sweetheart, if you don't mind."

Caine couldn't help but be flustered at the petname. Kinger knew how much of an effect it had on him. "O-oh! Ah, of- of course, yes, whatever you wish for, my dear."

[glaucouscherubim]

This was an unfinished draft for the stereotypical horror movie yan. so this would contain some early designs and mannerisms.

TW: possibility of bad grammar, i only have a baby sis so idk how twins are supposed to talk.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey!hey!hey!” A hand slaps the back of your head. You could recognize that voice from anywhere and everywhere.

As you look up you could see the bright smile on the quarterback. Blonde hair that could place Rapunzel to shame and blue eyes.

You greet Damien. Honestly, you don’t even know how the two of you became friends… or relate to each other in any way. He just greeted you one day during your freshman year and he’s been attached to you ever since.

“Shit. Hey, you got some liner?” The blonde whips her hair back. Thick and wavy. Pink lipgloss on her plump lips. The cheer team captain. Walking with you and Damien to the club room.

“Hey sis!” Damien greets her with the bright smile. “What’s up, dipshit.” She greets back, fixing her eyeliner with a pen.

You don’t know how you and Roxie got along either…

She smiles at you through her compact mirror. Snapping it shut and smiling at you, “Hey, babe~.”

You could only shyly greet back.

“What was with that yelling last night anyways?” Roxie sighs, “Screaming in your room. I couldn’t get any sleep, at all! I wouldn’t doubt it if you brought some girl and sneaked her into our house!”

And it’s time for you to stop listening to the conversation…

“What!?” Damien visibly tenses up, flustered, “I would never!” Scratching his neck, “It’s just that Corey’s kinda mad that we lost the game by one point….”

“Corey’s mad at everything, Dami.” Roxie scoffs, “That isn’t something to ruin my night skincare routine over.”

There was a moment of silence until their eyes glanced at you. Piercing into your soul with those demonic blue eye stares.

“You know…..” Damien pulls you closer to him, a hand around your shoulders, “You should really come to one of our games…. I would do better if you’d cheer for me….”

“Yeah….” Roxie adds on, holding you by your waist, “You’d definitely help him do better… and I wouldn’t mind having someone to cheer with me as well…..”

Squished between the two Siblings, you try to get away. Suggesting that you would rather not be there since how busy you were.

“Come on, Babe…” Roxie whines, “We could just pay Eros to do your work or something! Come on!”

“Please?” They both look at you with puppy dog eyes, pleading as you escape their grasp. Finding an escape to your club room.

You apologize and shut the door, bidding them away.

“Fine!” You hear them tell you with a smile, “Have fun at the chess club or whatever!”

The club room was dark as always. Screens among screens and screens. A few chess pieces scattered across. And the holy grail, a bulletin board of all the students (alive and dead) with news files and stolen documents.

A black haired student typing away on the keyboard.

[raayllum]

There's a chessboard in his dreams.

It doesn't show up often, but Ezran's dreams—or nightmares, he supposes, in this case—have always been reoccurring and strange. They're just more vivid and more violent, now that Aaravos is out. (Everything is worse now that Aaravos is out, now that Runaan is out, but Ezran doesn't blame his brother for either of them. He's not angry. Really.)

The chessboard isn't the one he grew up playing, coaxing his brother and dad and Claudia into games, the pieces painstakingly hand etched and with only the white ones painted. These ones are glossy, almost like glass, each piece having a perfect mirrored reflection of each other, like light and shadow.

And they're not knights or rooks either—but they are pawns.

The inside of the prison reflects the chess board, too, the glossy inside of a pearl even though it'd been smashed to pieces. It's what convinces him that this isn't real, that it's just a dream. (It can't be real. He won't let it be real.)

"Ah, King Ezran," Aaravos greets, seated in one chair behind the white set pieces. White always moves first—which makes sense. This game started centuries before Ezran was born. "How nice of you to join me."

Not that any of them have much of a choice, but Ezran takes a seat and grits his teeth. His crown always feels heavier here, even before he sees the way Aaravos picks up his pint-sized Callum and twirls him between his fingers.

"Are you and your dear brother fighting again?"

Yes, but—"Put him down," Ez growls out.

Aaravos raises a brow, but sets the game piece down on one of the white squares, next to a matching Rayla piece. "Not in the mood for games today, are you?" The Startouch elf steeples his fingers together, and nudges one of his frontline pieces forward across the board.

Then it's Ezran's turn, and he knows there's no point in delaying the inevitable, as he picks which piece to move forward.

The chessboard itself Ezran of the war maps he's been looking at lately, moving troops and people—sending his brother and their best friend off to dangerous locations, because they don't have a choice if they want to stop Aaravos and his corrupted Sun army. Ezran, as king, having to treat those he loves most like pawns.

"Your brother wouldn't sacrifice you for anything," Aaravos croons, once they're halfway through. Ezran's temple pounds, his figure of Aunt Amaya having already felled. His piece of Prince Karim is backed into a corner with nowhere to go; Aaravos has lost only small figures on his end—Opeli, Corvus, Barius—pieces he was never that interested in controlling in the first place. "How sad you can't say the same."

"Shut up!" Ezran snaps, because how dare anyone insinuate he doesn't love his brother? Because he does—no matter what, Ezran loves his brother—but he just doesn't love the way Callum does. His brother never does anything halfway; not magic or his fiery temper or his fiercely protective nature. He loves like an explosion, a super nova, a tidal wave.

Ezran has never loved like that. It's not in his nature. It's what makes him a good (miserable) king.

Ezran slams a piece down, not really looking, but knows in an instant he's made a mistake, because Aaravos grins, wide and sharp, like a cat about to eat a canary.

"Hm, not your best, little king," he says, and bumps a glossy monster-pawn up to where Callum lies. "Checkmate."

Ezran wakes up, clammy and hoarse, his throat tight and heart racing. Bait grunts from somewhere near his hip, the glow toad still asleep, and Ezran is careful not to touch him lest he wake him, and stares at the ceiling of his war tent instead.

He exhales, slowly, and gets out of bed to wash his face.

Tomorrow, he will be thirteen years old. He will give speeches at the crack of dawn and command troops and he and his brother, who's acting as one of his generals, will try and muddle through a conversation without arguing.

Ezran scrubs at his eyes and can't quite fight back the tears. But for tonight, in the privacy of the dark, he can be a little boy who's tired of losing.

He's so tired of losing.

[gaybananabread]

For the fruit shop store request, something between Kinger and Gangle, cause those two have stolen my heart and I think they’d be good friends. I was thinkin “strawberries”, “pear” and “mangoes”.

So, Gangles comedy mask breaks again, so she goes to Kinger for comfort, starts with a hug, he finds out she’s ticklish and lovingly uses that to his advantage, then she gets revenge, and it ends in a little comforting cuddle in the end. All platonic ofc. Does that sound doable? If not, I understand:)

Fruit(s): Strawberries, Pears, Mangoes

OKAy plot has been outlined! Gangle is the wet cat of this fandom and I love it. Kinger gives off crazy dad vibes as well; it’s always fun to flesh those out! I’m pretty sure I nailed everything you asked for Anon! Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!

Lees: Gangle, Kinger

Lers: Kinger, Gangle

Summary: Gangle's comedy mask is broken once again, upsetting her and leading her to seek comfort. Kinger helps her out, and while his silly method does work, he soon learns just how effective it is.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

Gangle cradled the halves of her comedy mask, eyeing them wistfully. The tears on her mask quivered, small whimpers escaping the ribbon entity. Not again…

She had just convinced Caine to fix her comedy mask for her; a task that took many, many hours of begging. Less than a day later, though, the ringmaster had planned a wild adventure, leading to her mask getting broken once again. He had refused to fix it again so soon, leaving her without a “working” smile.

When she got really sad, Gangle only knew of one character who she could go to for both emotional and mask-related help. She tried not to cry as she lumbered towards the pillow fort, small sniffs and whines slipping past her defenses.

Kinger heard the girl coming before he saw her. As Gangle approached the fort, the “door” opened without a sound, a kindly chess piece greeting her. She showed him the broken mask with a whine, the line of her mouth quivering. He led her inside, replacing the front pillow and sitting her down. Kinger was mostly stable that day, his hands only shaking a little if he let his mind wander.

“What happened this time?” He reached under a purple pillow, pulling out some white tape. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. Kinger started to tape up the mask, listening to whatever his fellow circus member had to say.

“C-Caine’s NPC’s knocked my m-mask off…” Gangle brought her knees up to her chest, hugging them as best as she could. Her poor comedy mask was always getting cracked, chipped or outright smashed during Caine’s adventures. Why did she have to be so fragile?

Kinger finished taping her mask up, holding it up and checking his work. It was nowhere near as good as Caine’s reset-powers, but it would have to do. He handed it to her, rubbing the back of his head. “Uh, it’s not good, but it should work…”

She put the mask on, blinking a few times to test it out. Gangle was smiling, but it was so small… Definitely not what he wanted to see. “Hey, Gangle…do you want a hug?”

The ribbon girl nodded, her smile growing a little. Kinger wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and hugging her. It was nice at first, the hug helping cheer her up.

Kinger moved a bit in the hug, rubbing her back. She liked the touch, but the fuzzy white material of his robe was rubbing against her front ribbons, right where her stomach would be. Gangle tried to keep quiet, squirming and pressing her mouth shut.

It took the supposedly older man all but a few seconds to realize what was going on. He chuckled, getting a tighter grip on her and sitting back. Kinger moved one hand downwards, gently scratching the ribbons of her side.

“EEP! K-Kihinger!” She squealed, giggles filling the fort as Kinger scritched on her sides. While it was a bit silly, he’d learned that that method of cheering-up worked on most of the circus residents. Gangle seemed especially receptive to it.

While Gangle did love affections from Kinger, it still tickled. She squirmed and twisted in the hug, giggling and squeaking her mask off. If she wanted to, she could have just untwisted her ribbons and slipped out of the hug. There was no fun in that, though; besides, she kinda liked being held close, and laughing around her trusted friend felt nice.

“What? I’m just helping my friend cheer up! You need to smile more, Gangle; it looks good on you.” He hummed fondly, moving his wiggling fingers to the middle of her stomach ribbons. 

She squealed, kicking her legs and flailing as much as the tickly hug would allow. “KIHIHIhingeher! N-NYAAAHAhahaho!” Gangle might not have had a definite body like the other characters, but she was definitely still ticklish. It didn’t make much sense, but then again, what in the circus did? 

Kinger loved hearing his friends laugh. Life in the circus was crazy; there were some days where he could barely keep a grip on his sanity. Others, he was solid. Hearing his fellow circus members laugh meant that they weren’t on the brink of total insanity. It wasn’t much, but it was a comfort.

“Ihihit tihihickles! P-pleheHEHEASE!” Gangle’s pitchy laughter jumped all over the place, a red hue dusting the cheeks of her mask. Another thing that doesn’t seem possible; ceramic gaining a color that’s the result of raised blood pressure. But eh, who needs logic?

“You have a nice laugh, Gangle. Should let us hear it more often as well.” He sounded so calm and playful, ultimately making everything twice as bad. Another squeal rang through the fort, one of Gangle’s bright red arms patting Kinger’s hand. It was a sort of tap-out; she was at her limit.

Kinger backed off, switching to gentle rubs on her back ribbons as he tried to help her settle back down. Gangle giggled off the leftover tickles, still a bit giddy from the “help” her friend provided. “Ohoho gohosh… That was mehean!”

He chuckled, sitting her down on a pillow and shaking his head. “Is it really mean if you enjoyed it?” She grumbled, smirking as she poked his side in retaliation. Surprisingly enough, he yelped, jolting away from the touch with a small giggle. Oooh, revenge!

Gangle chuckled mischievously, a spark of confidence taking over. She wrapped her leg ribbons around his middle, digging into his sides. The chess piece snorted, his large eyes squeezing shut as he squirmed. While he probably could’ve tossed her off, he was kind of enjoying her “payback.” It was apparently just as fun to laugh as it was to hear it from his friends. 

“Gahahangle! *snrk* Whyhyhy are you tihickling mehe?” He wriggled around, but he didn’t actually put any effort into escaping. He was having as much fun as she was.

The ribbon girl laughed with him, enjoying herself. “Because you started it!” She squeezed where his hips would be, making the chess man squeal. “IHI WAHAHAS *snrk* CHEHEERING YOU UHUHUP!”

“So am I!” She moved one arm, using the end of her ribbon to brush along the neck-base of his piece. Small squeaks and squeals broke through his snorty laughter, making her smile. Gangle loved his laugh-y noises.

Kinger tried to scrunch up his shoulders, twisting more as she upped the ante. “B-BUHUT I AHAM *snrk* H-HAHAPPY! GAHANGLE!” It was getting harder and harder to stay still…

“That’s because I’m making you happy!” She knew it was a bit mean, but she was having fun! Kinger rarely had good days like that; she had to take advantage of it! 

Kinger wanted to protest the sensibility of all that, but he was too busy laughing his proverbial ass off. Gangle was surprisingly good at tickling him. Being a little less resilient than Gangle, he quickly ran out of energy. 

One of his hands pat at her leg ribbon, showing that he was down for the count. Gangle unraveled her legs from around him, smiling and sitting back to watch her friend. While her comedy mask was far from perfect, she felt a lot better than she had when entering the fort.

Kinger rubbed his hip and neck area, calming the residual tickles and taking a few deep breaths; he was tired. With a small yawn, he grabbed the softer pillows in his fort, setting up two for him and Gangle. He didn’t even need to ask her if she wanted in. It had been a sort of pattern for them: someone got sad, they both cheered eachother up, and cuddled afterwards to recharge.

With a small giggle, she crawled over to him, careful not to hit any support pillows. When Kinger laid down, she cuddled up right beside him, wrapping her arms around his middle and getting cozy against the soft pillows of the fort.

Exhaustion hit them both like a ton of bricks; apparently, all that tickling had worn them out. Kinger pulled a blanket over them both, relishing in the peaceful moment as he drifted off to sleep. Gangle was close behind him, a smile still on her face. She loved his cheer-up sessions...

[curseofaphrodite]

Two of Hearts

daemon targaryen x reader | deck of cards part 2/3,

series masterlist | summary: night time visitors often come with complications

Late into the night, you heard knocks on your door. There were persistent and rough, so you already knew it wasn't going to be your handmaiden. With curiosity getting the better of you, you pulled it open.

"Hello," Daemon tilted his head to one side. He didn't appear drunk, and he smelled fine, but something about him said he was intoxicated.

"What do you want?" you asked cautiously.

"I sensed you weren't sleeping and thought we could have a party of our own."

"Be serious."

"I am," he nodded towards your room. "I have much to talk about with the future queen. All politics, of course."

"I'm — Daemon, you can't be this stupid," you sighed. "I am not going to bed you. It's foolish you'd even think I would."

He blinked. "Who said anything about bedding?"

"I don't know what you think about me but I'm not going to be a whore. And if I am, it won't be for a prince who has more tantrums than a 12-year-old."

His puppy dog eyes immediately turned blank. Fear crept inside, because you knew you had finally annoyed him. You preferred him to look actually furious instead of whatever the hell he was doing now.

His right hand reached upwards quickly, grabbing your chin with an unfamiliar softness. While his touch was firmly gentle, his eyes said otherwise.

"Disrespecting me is disrespecting the court," he said sharply, forcing you to look at him. Your heart started hammering for more reasons than one. To add more bad luck, you heard footsteps in the distance.

"Someone's coming," you hissed, not wanting to be seen together in a somewhat compromising position.

"I bet it's Alicent... or maybe Viserys—"

Rumors, rumors, rumors. They had more power to destroy you than fire. You had learned that quickly even before coming to Westeros.

"Now's not your time for games," you said, gritting your teeth. Then you did the only thing you could. You grabbed him by his collar and pulled him inside, shutting the door behind him as quickly as possible. He let go, but he seemed just as surprised as you.

"You can't be that scared of Viserys!" Daemon laughed, but there was a genuine question behind those words.

"I'm not scared!" You plopped down in your bed, looking out the window with a frown. "I just don't know what I'm doing here."

"Don't play clueless. You're here to get the Iron Throne, as foolish as it seems."

"Why?" your eyes turned to him, determined. "Why is it foolish for someone like me to get the throne?"

"You're not a Targaryen. You'll never be a Targaryen."

"Are you calling a war against my house?"

Daemon walked towards the table, then took the chess board which you had brought from your home. You had no one to play it with, so it remained useless. Until now.

Wordlessly, he arranged the wooden figures, then drew himself a chair so he could sit next to you. You frowned.

"Make a move," he asked, nodding towards the pieces. You hesitated before pushing a pawn forward.

"Your house is reputable," he murmured, lost in the game. "But it's not enough. When worst comes to worst, dragons are what people fear. Not the rulers."

"I'd still be a better ruler than you. And certainly Viserys."

Daemon used his horse, so you did the same. The game passed in silence for a while, like he was contemplating more than just the strategy.

"You would be a better queen." He stated finally, looking up. But right as he said that, he also took your king.

Son of a bitch.

-----

He returned the next night. And the next. And the next.

To be transparent, Daemon did have a plan. He would think of the sweetest of things to say to you (anything to fuck up your wedding), yet words failed him every time.

It wasn't because he chose not to say it. He simply couldn't. He'd open his mouth and he'll already know what you'd reply if he called you beautiful. He already knows how you'll laugh if he compares your smile to a winter's moon. He knows you won't fall for any of his tricks.

Simply said, he knows you know him. So he resigned to chess games and talk of books, all of which only made him more restless.

Little by little, Daemon Targaryen found himself losing the act he wrote for himself.

-----

A WEEK LATER.

-----

The door seemed to be mocking you.

No matter how many times you've considered knocking, you couldn't bring yourself to do it, nor could you walk away. It was all a blur of wondering if you were crossing a line you'd already crossed. You were contemplating everything wrong you ever did in your life, from birth to where you were standing.

Then, out of the blue, the door opened loudly, startling the life out of you.

"I could hear your existential crisis from inside," Daemon said, his voice monotone. Despite the late hour, he was fully clothed. His white shirt and messy hair stood out against the candlelight. He smelled of sand, making you wonder if he was out by the sea again.

"I—" you coughed. "You haven't come to my room for days."

He raised an eyebrow. "I didn't realize I was obliged to."

"Daemon," you sucked in your breath, wondering just how awkward this conversation was going. "You're the only fr-acquaintance I have in this palace."

"You can say friend."

"Fine then. Friend."

He sighed. "The rumors were getting more complicated. I couldn't tell every person I saw on my way back from your room that I was merely teaching you how to play chess. it sounds unbelievable even to me."

"Since when have rumors stopped you?" you challenged, glaring. "Do I remind you that they're going to spin stories regardless of the facts anyway?"

"Do you really want a chess partner so much that you're willing to lose every night?"

"I'll win one day," you said, glad to sound light-hearted again. "And like I said, I've grown to like your annoying ass. You're one of the evilest men I've encountered in my life, but you're just as entertaining."

"Well then, it'd be rude of me to not invite you to your jester's room." He said, stepping aside. "Which reminds me, I have a particular book you'd love. It's about a queen trapped in a high tower."

"Let me guess, a prince saves her?" you asked, walking inside. Your eyes didn't miss out on anything. His room was different, with a large silver bed and more windows than you can count. Everything appeared regal and expensive, but all of them were just as messy.

"A dragon does." Daemon left the door unlocked, as if it could give you extra reassurance. You internally rolled your eyes.

"Sounds very Targaryen."

"The book is supposedly a Targaryen artifact too."

"Supposedly?"

"I stole the book from the vault when I was 9 years old. It bore the family crest and looked important so I figured what's the harm."

You laughed. "Did you really?"

Maybe you imagined it, or maybe your laugh had something to do with how his eyes suddenly softened. You felt butterflies just by the thought.

"Don't believe me? Check the cupboard. The book's there."

You wandered across the room until you reached where he was pointing at. You pulled it open and saw a mess of decoratives inside; from goblets to jewel-studded rings.

"Don't you ever clean?" you asked, looking for the mysterious book anyway.

"I don't think the servants know this is my room. Who could blame them, I'm hardly even here."

"Yes, I forgot you like to spend your time in others' rooms," you teased, wondering whose room he had been in the last few nights. You were almost tempted to ask.

"I truly am sorry if you were led to think I was mad at you. Forget the rumors, I just didn't want to disturb your duties. You're undoubtedly busy." His voice grew more grave, if that was even possible.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"The wedding's in three days." His voice came from right behind you. His body was pressed up against yours, and his hand reached over your shoulder to get to the higher shelf.

"The book is up here." He said for clarification. But you didn't move, didn't reply, didn't even take the book from his hands as he lowered it. You simply stood there, registering his words and his warm breath right beside your neck.

"The wedding preparations are done so I'm not busy," you whispered. Why did it sound like you were apologizing?

Daemon put the book back and slowly circled your waist with his arms. It was purely affectionate, and that made you want to hug him and cry. He rested his head in the crook of your neck, taking his time to answer.

"It's a wonder how Viserys gets everything I want. The throne, and now you." He said, and you didn't know what was softer — his touch or his words.

You groaned. "Stop that! Stop acting as if I'm anything more than an unfortunate liability for your throne."

"That's the irony in it," he pressed a kiss against your neck and you melted into a puddle inside. You were dead and resurrected back to life when he dragged his lips across your skin. "We're both traitors. I'm a liar so you can't trust a word I say so if I ever truly love you, you won't believe it anyway."

"Because it'd be a lie."

"I will plead with you just once." He turned you around, cupping your jaw. He stared intently, bravely — as if he was about to do something he never did. "Just once I will beg. Don't marry him."

"Daemon—"

"Please." He went down on his knees, holding your hands instead. He wasn't even looking up at you, like that would cost him plenty. His voice was shaky and he knew this wasn't just an act. He would never humiliate himself for his tricks.

He was truly desperate.

"I can't back out of the wedding. Viserys would call a war on my house. My family—"

"I know you won't say yes but hear me out, humor me for a minute," He clasped your hands tighter. "We could run away, I don't want the fucking throne. I want you—"

"I have to go," you said firmly, fighting back the sudden urge to kneel beside him and never part. "I shouldn't have come."

You pulled back and he let you go, wide-eyed and surprised. He stood up and watched as you walked off. He followed halfway, then upon realizing you were indeed gone, he slammed the door shut.

"Fuck!" He yelled, kicking the nearby table.

It didn't help. His shoulders started to shake, he was breathless, and before he knew what was happening — he started to cry.

------------------------

next, final part will be out soon! itll end happy i swear 😭🤌

-----------------------

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[vivithefolle]

What are your thoughts on the bad future in Cursed Child where Hermione basically becomes Snape as a teacher just because she didn't get with Ron?

Oh, I'd written a Quora answer about that! Let me get it-

In the alternated universe in Cursed Child, Hermione became a Snape-like professor because she lost Ron. Is it just bad writing because she'd never be like that? Why?

Au contraire, I think it’s the only bit of characterization in this garbage play that makes sense.

And I’m not saying that because I love Ron, I’m saying that because I know Hermione rather well - I’ve been a very Hermioneish person in my life.

I’ve been that girl who wanted to answer every question I knew the answer to, because I liked to show off what I knew, I liked it when the teacher validated me, I liked to be seen as clever by the adults. The adults were the most important people, after all they were the ones who handed out the punishments. Therefore it was important that I endear myself to the adults considering that they were the only people who could protect me from the other kids’ bullying.

I was bullied. A lot. As a result, I hated my schoolmates. I despised them with all my being. I only trusted the adults and a select few fellow kids who didn’t bully me. My philosophy? “The adults are always right. I’m always right, unless the adults say otherwise. My friends are always right, unless the adults or I say otherwise. Everyone else is stupid and useless.”

Notice a pattern?

It’s quite easy really. The more I was bullied, the tighter I shut myself out. Every new act of bullying was only vindicating me. The world is made of idiots, idiots and more idiots. There’s nothing out there but idiots, and they prey on the smart people like me.

When Hermione made friends with Harry and Ron, thankfully, they stopped her from leaping into misanthropy entirely. They grounded her, gave her something to look forward to other than school. They made her realize that people who don’t care for school aren’t necessarily complete dumbasses who’ll never achieve anything with their lives. They brought some humanity to her. Some much-needed emotion and empathy.

They got her away from her feeling of superiority and made her accept that she wasn’t perfect, something that is incredibly important considering that being perfect is impossible.

[…] Harry headed straight back to the Gryffindor common room, where he found Ron and Hermione playing chess. Chess was the only thing Hermione ever lost at, something Harry and Ron thought was very good for her.

(Lookit those two Dads parenting their perfectionnist daughter. Iconic.)

Okay, so, we know how Hermione reacted when Ron dated Lavender Brown, right?

No, I’m not talking about the birds, I’m talking about after that. After she threw her hissy fit, she went on to bully Ron for months on end.

“Hi, Parvati!” said Hermione, ignoring Ron and Lavender completely. “Are you going to Slughorn’s party tonight?” “No invite,” said Parvati gloomily. “I’d love to go, though, it sounds like it’s going to be really good… You’re going, aren’t you?” “Yes, I’m meeting Cormac at eight, and we’re -” There was a noise like a plunger being withdrawn from a blocked sink and Ron surfaced. Hermione acted as though she had not seen or heard anything. “- we’re going up to the party together.” “Cormac?” said Parvati. “Cormac McLaggen, you mean?” “That’s right,” said Hermione sweetly. “The one who almost” - she put a great deal of emphasis on the word - “became Gryffindor Keeper.” “Are you going out with him, then?” asked Parvati, wide-eyed. “Oh - yes - didn’t you know?” said Hermione, with a most un-Hermione-ish giggle. “No!” said Parvati, looking positively agog at this piece of gossip. “Wow, you like your Quidditch players, don’t you? First Krum, then McLaggen…” “I like really good Quidditch players,” Hermione corrected her, still smiling. “Well, see you… Got to go and get ready for the party…”

And

“How did you do?” asked Ron, hurrying toward Harry. “I think I felt something the last time I tried - a kind of tingling in my feet.” “I expect your trainers are too small, Won-Won,” said a voice behind them, and Hermione stalked past, smirking.

You know how many pages there are between these two happenings? Seventy. 70!! In-universe, it goes from December to freaking March!

And by being away from Ron, Hermione also reduces the time she spends with Harry. Because Harry won’t seek Hermione out, it’s always Hermione who will come see him - and only if she has something to tell him.

So, without Ron, Hermione would consequentially drift away from Harry. Without Ron to bicker with, without Ron to act as a buffer between her controlling tendencies and Harry’s rebellious nature, Hermione would close herself off and ignore other people.

Now, as for why she’s a She-Snape when it comes to students?

Well duh! Have you seen Hermione?

Ron, at the next table, wasn’t having much more luck. “Wingardium Leviosa!” he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill. “You’re saying it wrong.” Harry heard Hermione snap. “It’s Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the ‘gar’ nice and long.”

She loudly points out Ron’s failure, getting everyone’s attention and making him feel humiliated, because she was so sure she knew better than him. That she happens to perform better than him right afterwards just makes Ron feel even worse.

She wasn’t nice, she wasn’t friendly, she wasn’t helpful. She shot him down by snapping at him and only then did she try to help him, but she was already “the aggressor” in Ron’s mind. Of course he wasn’t going to react nicely to anything she’d have to say afterwards!

“All right – I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors,” said Hermione in a sniffly voice. “And you’ve got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?”

Note that here, this is Harry’s narration. Harry thinks of Hermione’s voice as “sniffly”. It’s about on par with Draco’s “sneering” in terms of positive first impressions.

And look at that! “people outside are behaving very childishly”, that’s an 11 years old speaking! She’s just as much of a kid as her peers yet she already has an overinflated sense of her own maturity. *sighs* Believe me, I know from experience that this can only end in tears.

And it’s what would make her miserable should she become a teacher.

Without Harry and Ron with her to remind her that she’s human and faillible, Hermione would ignore other people’s needs as well as her own.

We already see that she can be somewhat gentle to people like Neville, maybe because Neville is kind of the equivalent of a “special needs” kid in the Wizarding World, but with other students like Harry and Ron, whom she assumes are just dumb or not trying hard enough? She’s harsh. Snappish. She can’t understand how they don’t understand stuff that to her is so easy!

Now take Harry and Ron and multiply them by 10. And put Hermione in charge of them all.

She’s gonna go insane in a couple weeks.

A few years and she’ll have lost any sort of enjoyment she may have gotten from passing on her knowledge.

Hermione is not a good pedagogue, like the books show us multiple times - she has an easy time learning because she can memorize her books, but not all students are like this. When someone doesn’t understand what she understands, she makes a snippy remark, act as though they should know and make them feel dumb and in the process snuff out their interest for what she had to say.

Hermione Granger would be a complete nightmare of a teacher, because she has no patience and has a very “if I can do it, so can you” mentality, and she also tends to assume the worst in others. She’s not suited to a role that requires her to interact with people on a daily basis (also why she would make a terrible Minister for Magic).

[sseomtada]

being [ruben dias]

you run into ruben twice - both ending in unexpected and disappointing ways.

warnings: none | wc: 5609 | 2/???

It was as if all the time in the world and none at all passed simultaneously.

During that theoretically improbable glitch, you felt like you experienced every emotion known to man. Disbelief was the first. Was it really him your eyes were taking in, or did the mice actually exist in your brain and managed to do severe damage to your amygdala?

Then came shock. He stood to his full height, seemingly taller than you recalled and held out something in his hand. It took a moment for your gaze to drift to the item - ah, your original weapon of choice.

You reached out to grab the tail end of your keys. Whether it was to avoid contact with his skin was left to be determined.

Wave after wave, each one slamming more forcefully than the last into your body, you spun helplessly through a cycle that would only end one way.

Confusion, because what was he doing here? Not in this city, the answer to that was fairly obvious even without knowing his affiliation after seeing his address, but actually here on your street. Not remotely close to where he lived.

Anger followed suit. At the forefront leading the march of red hot flames licking the back of your neck was all of the questions you had about that night. Every single one of them starting with the word why. Though, not all of that vitriol was directed his way.

A fraction of it had been left to God or Fate or whichever entity decided to move your chess pieces to end up in this predicament. This was the last thing you needed and the worst time for it to happen. The one thing both he and the powers that be shared was the prefix to all of your venom laced inquiries, why.

You fought against the current and undertow. Nothing good waited for you at the bottom.

That was easier said than done, especially as the sky illuminated with a flash again and gave you an even better look at him. Adding insult to injury was the fact that he was achingly perfect, fully grown into the features you adored.

His strong brow bone contrasting those soft eyes more than they did before. That nose of his, still as big as ever, but sitting just right in a way that highlighted his prominent cheeks. His lips were possibly the one thing that remained unchanged, but you wouldn’t know for sure unless…

“I-” Ruben croaked.

A tiny, broken word was enough to tear you into two pieces. One half of you begged and pleaded desperately for him to spit it out. All of it. The other part wanted absolutely nothing of the sort. It wanted him to never even do so much as breathe in your vicinity for as long as he lived.

You swallowed thickly, eyes squeezing shut. This was too much for you to fully grasp right now. What were you even doing still standing here getting torrentially poured on? What did you hope to gain from watching him grapple to form a single sentence?

It’s over. Don’t contact me. I don’t love you anymore.

The keys bit into your palm as your grip around them tightened. If there was anything he had to say to you, he could’ve done so when you showed up at his door. He could’ve said something on any of the days, weeks and months that followed while you experiencing a part of yourself die and fade out of existence.

You turned to leave and didn’t make it more than two steps before his hand grasped your wrist. He was still so warm. Flashes of memories flooded your mind so quickly and intensely that it threatened to bring you to your knees.

How are you always freezing, baby? Come here. Closer. Perfect.

Just as you pulled your arm up to free yourself of his grip, he released it. You stood with your back still facing him for a beat. It was long enough for him to drape his jacket over your shoulders, shielding you from the rain. Your body let out an involuntary shudder.

And then you ran.

Everything muted. You didn’t feel your legs moving, or your galloping heartbeat, or your lungs burning from uncontrolled breaths. The next thing you knew, you were in your building facing the door opposite yours.

You knocked, careful not to be too loud given the hour and hopeful that despite the time, you’d be let inside. Only God knows how long had passed before you leaned your head against the cool surface. With a final attempt, you raised your first to knock again.

Instead of your knuckles connecting with wood, they swung into empty space. Your torso fell forward into Aki’s as she yelped.

“The rain just had to come down on your run, didn’t it?” She peeled your wet frame from her pajamas.

The playful look of concern quickly turned serious once she took you in. The look in her eyes filled you with deja vu. It was that September 15th stare all over again because she just knew.

This time, the water running down your face was warm - coming from within. There were millions of mice wreaking havoc in your mind now. They gnawed, scratched and unearthed all that you buried years ago, decimating the walls you’d built brick by brick.

Aki pulled you in tight, squeezing and cradling your head.

You let it all out.

Everything that you had created with Bana held more importance to you than most things in life.

It was far more than just a passion or a dream. As silly as it sounded, forming that company quite literally gave you hope. At a time where you’d felt so lost and at your wits end, fully at odds with what seemed to be your only option, you decided to do the craziest and most ill-advised thing. Although the road was anything but smooth in the beginning, you managed to navigate from treacherous dirt tracks to freshly set tar.

You currently found yourself in that same pocket of gratefulness that you were in back then. With the contract finally being signed, the real work had only just begun on the project you had with Nike.

There was so much to be done. That coupled with the pressure of having to solidify Bana’s strength in the new city left you devoid of extra time or energy to expend to whatever the fuck happened a few nights ago.

Aki was more than a saint. She gave you a safe space and the support you needed to seal the cracks, without judgment or prying into things further. The only thing she had to offer was: if you need me to take over from here, just say the word.

She knew that this venture meant an infinite amount to you, so suggesting backing out wasn’t a gesture you would appreciate. An attractive alternative, however, would be for you to take as much time as you needed to decompress while looking after the business for you.

There were no IOU cards in existence that could compensate the support a friend like her gave. You began to think you’d spend your entire life trying to repay her for all that she did for you. On this occasion, that looked like breaking the cycle of the past.

You weren’t going to fall apart and have her clean up your messes anymore. Everything that you went through wasn’t going to be in vain. Despite the massive destabilizing event, you would carry on for both your sakes.

“T-minus two weeks, ladies.” You set your stack of materials on the conference room table. “Let’s get to work.”

Cindy whooped and Aki clapped, ready to dive in. Their high spirits empowered you to shake off any residual feelings in order to pour everything you had into Bana’s debut in the Manchester market.

The schedule was torturously tight, leaving no margin for error. Neither you nor the client’s team had the luxury of dillydallying when the date for the launch party had been set and was a non-negotiable. Your first order of business was meeting up with the design team to essentially interview them about their process and goals.

That would help you in forming the image you intended to portray to the audience. They had been outsourced just like your team, so even delving into a bit of their backstory and their journey to working with a major company would come in handy.

Cindy’s expertise would come in next. She had an unrivaled pulse on current trends across seemingly every culture. Her knowledge was a inspiring and an endless resource that would take this project beyond the local scene, which was the whole purpose of working with a brand like Nike.

Aki had to be the smartest person you knew. Her ability to forecast financials was seen by the top four multinational firms even when she was an undergraduate. She even spent time working with Deloitte post graduation, but was fast to come to the conclusion that the corporate accounting world wasn’t the environment for her. It was a realization you owed your company’s life to.

The weeks approaching the deadline quickly dwindled down to days. All the while, the three of you worked tirelessly alongside your accompanying staff to ensure that the product’s marketing was seamless.

“And…breathe.” Aki shut her laptop with a smack.

Cindy let out more of a roar than a breath, drawing both of your gazes to her.

“Sorry, was that a bit much?” She grinned sheepishly.

Actually, it wasn’t in the slightest. You too found yourself bellowing aloud, to everyone’s confusion at first, until they joined in as well. It was a release of everything you all had endured to drag your bodies to the finish line. It was also strangely therapeutic to nonverbally, yet vocally, express your relief.

At the end of it, you were laughing - something you realized you hadn’t done in quite some time. That moment made continuing on regardless of whatever issues loomed feel so very worth it. This was why you took the leap you did, the rewarding feeling of succeeding and doing so with an amazing set of people alongside you.

“We’ll tidy things up here.” Aki shot you a don’t even argue with me look.

“Sure will! You go and get some well deserved rest, boss.” Cindy offered a sincere smile.

As much as you wanted to put up a fight, you learned with experience to graciously accept kindness when it was extended to you. After bidding them goodnight, you headed back to your place.

For once, your body wasn’t coursing with insane amounts of adrenaline. Maybe the post project high wore off with age. Or maybe you’d finally discovered the limits to running yourself ragged. Either way, you were happy that when your head met your pillow, sleep was all but ready to welcome you instantly.

o passado

Your sophomore year internship was going to be the end of you.

Across every industry, it seemed that there was a rite of passage one had to complete in order to be considered a serious candidate. Going into working for your current firm, you held that belief too. But why?

You thought there’d be some lesson to be learnt or character to be built while being put through endless trials of your patience. Was it to make you value every level or work, or to not take your future position for granted? If that was the case, you didn’t need to go through them.

Everyone held some level of privilege. Whether you were fully able bodied, or neurotypical, or alive, regardless of anything else going on, you held something another wished they had. You’d never gone a day in your life without recognizing the privilege you possessed to be able to go to school, and then work a job.

The only thing the constant barrage of belittle comments, humiliating scolds and time wasting tasks achieved was making you feel disappointed. Was this all there was to life? Were you expected to obtain this badge of honor only to inflict the same horrors upon the next generation in hopes that they’d do the same?

Your tired legs carried you to bed where you curled into a little ball. What made this experience even more gut-wrenching was the misplaced guilt that crept in at moments like this. Sometimes recognizing your blessings came with a side of feeling ungrateful when you were sad because of them.

All those long days and nights your mom worked to sustain a comfortable life were undoubtably for you to even be in a position to be so stressed out. You couldn’t ever bring yourself to tell her just how hard some days were, especially knowing how much she must’ve suffered to provide for you alone.

“What’s wrong, coração?”

Ruben’s question made you whimper. You’d been trying to hold it in as much as possible so that you didn’t disturb him having fun in the living room with his friend. The go-to guise of yours was having to work on a report in order for you to duck out early.

He sank into the bed beside you and wrapped you in his arms. You shuddered, not even realizing that you hadn’t pulled up the duvet or shut the window against the winter air outside. His hand stroked your hair softly in a steady rhythm as your heartbeat slowed to mirror his own.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.” You choked out. “I can’t.”

Something about letting the voices in your head speak aloud felt even more devastating. Your body shook against his as you were hit with another wave of sobs. You felt stupid and weak and hopeless.

Ruben turned you over to face him, his brows pressed together with concern before tucking your head against his chest. He stroked the length of your spine while you cried, giving you the time you needed to let everything you felt pour out. When your shoulders finally stilled and your breathing regulated, he angled your face to look at you again.

“If you truly feel that way and want to quit, it’s okay.” Ruben wiped your cheeks with him thumb. “I won’t think less of you, neither will anyone else who loves you. More importantly, I don’t want you feeling this way or considering that decision make you see yourself as less than.”

You cupped his face with a trembling hand and touched your forehead to his, closing your eyes. With the emotional tsunami subsiding, you slowly put back together the pieces of your spirit.

It was difficult right now, but you genuinely loved what you were pursuing. Just because you were in this current predicament didn’t mean you’d stay there, or have to perpetuate it upon anyone else.

“I don’t want to give up, but…” Your voice was small.

“That’s it, then. All that matters.” His brown eyes crinkled at their edges. “You don’t want to give up on your dream.”

You shook your head, lips pouting.

Ruben sat upright and brought you with him. His hands engulfed your shoulders as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. You subconsciously found yourself doing the same. When yours reopened, you found him gazing at you lovingly.

“You can do it.” He led.

It was a journey to muster up the energy to follow, but you did, “I can do it.”

“You’re the best.” Ruben continued, hands coming down to squeeze your own.

“I’m the best.” You huffed out with a half laugh.

He brought your fingers to his lips, kissing the tips softly.

“That’s my girl.”

o presente

The blaring alarm from your phone on the bedside table didn’t startle you since you were already wide awake.

You’d gotten the most sleep you have in months the night before, but woke up earlier than you’d hoped. The past hour saw you staring into the darkness of your bedroom, groggy mind going places you were too tired to derail them from.

It was better to get those thoughts out of the way before you got your day started, you guessed. Especially those as important as the one that laid ahead.

With one last deep sigh, you threw off your duvet to get things moving. If you didn’t complete your morning routine, you wouldn’t be half of the person you needed to be. And you had to be even more than that given that the launch party was tonight.

You got dressed to go for a jog - indoors at the gym in your building this time, for obvious reasons. Avoiding songs with lyrics had been a habit you picked up since that unexpected run in too. Annoyingly, you were the type of person to be reminded of personal situations when hearing a singer croon about theirs that mirrored your own.

For an hour, you zoned out to a random chill house DJ set while your legs moved without a thought. After ending your run and stretching, you headed back up to your loft for a shower followed by a big breakfast.

You felt strangely serene despite all the recent chaos. For once, instead of questioning that, you decided to lean fully into it. On the way to the office, you even swung by a nearby cafe to pick up coffee for the girls. It would be a nice detour from the exhausted Nespresso machine.

“For me?’ Cindy beamed, taking in her signature flat white.

“Yes, for you.” A bright grin spread across your face. “And you, madame.”

Aki clutched her iced americano to her chest dramatically. “CEO of the year: Y/N.”

Your eyes rolled playfully as you all settled in for a quick recap. Something you liked to do after wrapping up a project was to firstly celebrate the work put in by everyone. Then, you analyzed strengths and weaknesses that could be improved upon for endeavors to come.

“I can’t thank you guys enough for making this process as hassle-free as possible and smashingly successful.” You concluded.

“We’re going to do great things together.” Cindy reached across the table to give each of your hands a squeeze.

“I’m so excited for our debut tonight!” Aki wiggled in her seat.

It wasn’t always a given that the client would invite outsourced teams to launch parties with their stakeholders, but Nike was gracious enough to extend an invitation to your team. They were clearly pleased with the work Bana presented, but this added an extra layer of validation.

The importance of an event like this also couldn’t be overstated. Though it was more or less a party, it was a huge networking opportunity. You and the girls had to be in your best form tonight to do the job that mattered most in this industry - marketing the firm.

After checking in on your home office and answering a few emails that could potentially produce leads, you joined Aki in her preparations for the event. It had been a minute since either of you had the opportunity to get this dolled up, so you decided to go all out.

Why not let the professionals do the heavy lifting? You felt more relaxed than you had in ages having someone else wash and style your hair. Even Aki had found herself less talkative than usual, going as far as nearly dozing off while she got her pedicure.

“You should wear that dress you’ve been saving. Remember the one you got when we were on vacation?” She suddenly perked up.

“The one from Nice?” You scrambled to find the exact one she meant. Shopping on vacation was a kryptonite of yours, making her meaning a bit difficult to pinpoint.

Aki shook her head, “Santorini…”

“Ah,” Your eyes bulged and then you nodded. “Santorini.”

There was rarely a time where you experienced love at first sight with clothing. Most of your pieces were carefully thought out and heavily deliberated upon prior to purchasing. Classic, sleek and complimentary trumped jumping on trend bandwagons to you.

When you saw that dress on the mannequin in the window, you felt like you had an out of body experience. The soft cream color, the draping with it’s exposed back and beaded details - it was a no brainer that you had to have it.

Tonight was the perfect occasion to finally break her in.

It went with the theme you’d decided on for your team’s fist major outing as well. In the spirit of celebrating Bana, Cindy suggested wearing the colors in the logo - cream, burnt orange and sage green. There were no limits to your options, anyone could choose any color and it didn’t matter if you all showed up in the same hue.

You'd just finished fastening your chunky gold hoops when Aki’s knock sounded from the door. She was always on the dot, so that meant you had exactly five seconds to head out to the car waiting downstairs.

“Good lord…” Her mouth dropped at your appearance.

“Stop,” You scrunched your nose. “Is the slight glisten on the skin too much?”

“It’s perfect! You’re giving trophy.” She gave a thumbs up.

“And you look like a sunset on the Gulf.” Your hand extended to grab hers, giving her a twirl to make the orange fabric of her halter-cut gown dance.

If there was ample time, you two would’ve stood in the hallway having a compliment battle. The ticking clock, however, demanded that you haul ass since there was one last stop to be made before arriving at the event.

“You look like a fairy!” Aki gasped as Cindy hopped into the back of the car.

“A sexy wood nymph, I hope.” She arched a freshly shaped brow.

You made a noise of agreement, “It’s exactly that.”

Fate played its hand well tonight given that you all ended up blindly choosing different colors. Cindy’s dress looked like something straight off a Dipesta runway - a soft, dreamy green that perfectly sculpted her frame.

The team’s car arrived just in time for a few photos to be taken before receiving an escort to your table. Aki took an appreciative sip of the champagne that was poured, savoring the bubbles in her mouth.

If you didn’t know she tended to not drink while working on huge projects, you might’ve thought she was a weirdo. You took a sip of your own and understood her pleasure even more — it was fucking delicious.

“I’d like to thank everyone for coming tonight to celebrate this new line of our iconic Air Max. Even though we’re still a few months out from consumer purchasing, each one of you here has made it possible to bring this dream of ours to life.” Nike’s CEO began.

A short round of applause followed. Their words filled you with gratitude and relief. The best part of branding a product like this was that you got in and out early. Everything was in their hands now and you wished them the best of luck on the remainder of their journey.

“A special thanks goes out to our major partners, who’ll be pivotal in the time leading up to the release.” They continued, point towards a table near yours. “We look forward to seeing them on our Manchester City players on European nights and beyond.”

You clapped along with the other attendees, eyes following the direction of their attention. The meeting of your hands slowed to a stop. Only a few feet away from you sat the owner of the brilliant grin that haunted you, that same expression returned to the speaker on the podium for their words.

Aki sensed a shift in your energy instantly, looking at you and then picking up your line of sight. She squeezed your knee to bring you back to the present. Your burning eyes blinked before turning to hers.

Are you okay? They silently asked. You mustered a small smile and placed a hand overs hers. I’m good.

“Our concept with this new shoe in the Air Max line was to really emphasize that trademark, shock absorbing feel that they’re known for.” The head of the design team took the stage.

As much as you wanted to give them your undivided attention, you struggled to keep your eyes forward without shifting off to the left. Get it together, Y/N, now’s not the time. You took a breath breath and held it, begging oxygen to flow straight to your brain.

“The team at Bana really understood what we were going for and found the perfect way to translate that to the masses. A big shout out to you lot for being absolute rockstars.” They saluted your table.

Faces filled with smiles turned in your direction, crippling your efforts to steady your nerves. You somehow gathered what you needed to slightly bow your head in appreciation before they continued with their speech.

Cindy inhaled sharply and leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, “Uh, don’t look, but Ruben Dias is staring over here for some reason. Do you guys know him?”

Fuck it.

Any hope of regaining a sense of normalcy to your night was thrown in the trash. It wouldn’t ever be a usual occurrence as long as you two ended up in the same space. It couldn’t.

You had to stop avoiding that, especially considering that this wasn’t your fault. You’re not the reason why it felt like trying to breathe outside during a heat wave whenever you shared the same space as him.

“Yeah,” Your eyes locked with his, unshifting. “Something like that.”

It didn’t take a detective to realize that your words were loaded. Cindy was quicker than most to pick up on that and her back quickly rejoined with her seat. Aki downed the rest of her champagne, signaling discretely for a top up as soon as the flute touched the table.

She was right on cue for the start of the event’s mixer portion.

You swiped a fresh glass from a tray being floated around the room and tapped into the part of your brain that gave you laser focus. Bana was your priority, had been for the past four years, and nothing - or no one - would ruin that.

The head of design was your first stop. It was only fitting that you return the kindness they’d extended to you in their speech and throughout working with their team. They promised to keep your firm high in their mind when cooking the next great invention for all your hard work.

Cindy introduced you to her mystery contact who was on the executive side. You got to know a bit more about how they met, the middle-aged woman being her former advisor at her university. It said a lot to you as an employer to see that she still kept very strong connections with people she’d met years prior.

Aki was working her charm as usual with some guys who seemed to be too shy to get into the cocktail hour. You weren’t sure about their affiliations, but everyone in this room was worth sparing a conversation. Besides, she’d definitely fill you in later.

“Are you Bana’s CEO?” An accented voice spoke from behind you.

He was tall, tuxedo fitted to his huge frame with superior precision. Oddly handsome too, though you couldn’t pinpoint if his lips were real or not. He was also the person sitting beside Ruben, if you weren’t mistaken.

“I am, nice to meet you.” You shook his hand. “And you’re in the City squad. Excuse my ignorance, I don’t keep up with football.”

His laugh exuded relief, strangely. “That’s quite alright, I can imagine how busy you must be. I play up front, Erling Haaland.”

If there was any waver if your expression, you did well to mask it. So, he was Ruben’s teammate. It made you question whether or not he knew anything about your previous relationship to his coworker.

“I hope our firm continues to have a good relationship with Nike, maybe we’d keep running into each other at events like this.” Though far from explicit, your tone was leading. What was his reason for approaching you?

“It’s something I hope for as well, though I might want to pull your attention away from them just a bit.” Erling smirked.

Suddenly, you became the one being roped in. “How so?”

“I’ve been looking for a change in my own personal branding. Based on what you did here, I’d be interested in having a conversation with you and your team.” He answered directly.

This time, it was your tiny laugh that was filed with relief. No grilling about your past, then. Even better was the fact that you’d potentially lined up a new business opportunity. Was continuing to work in this particular vein the smartest idea? Yes and no.

But you didn't have the luxury of playing it safe currently, you also didn’t particularly care to anymore. Manchester was just as much yours as it was his for the taking.

“We’d love to hear what you have in mind.” You smiled.

Erling accepted your contact via Airdrop, telling you to keep an ear out from a call from his assistant before excusing himself to make more rounds. You bit down on your bottom lip to ground yourself from showing just how good it felt to be in top form. Not just yet, that could wait until you were done hunting for the night.

You refocused on combing through the sea of people for your girls to see if they needed bailing out. Unfortunately, classy gatherings like this didn’t put a halt to rather tasteless behavior from men. You'd just spotted Aki cackling at something the person she was speaking to said, thankfully, when your view was obstructed by yet another tuxedo clad chest.

Salt water, patchouli, sage…tobacco.

Your sense knew it was him before your eyes combed up to meet his. It was the same potent yet subtle fragrance that lingered on his jacket, and your skin, even after you’d washed them.

“I always knew you could this.” Ruben’s voice made your flesh raise.

You can do it. You’re the best. That’s my…

“Well,” You spoke aloud to shut the memory out. “I guess deep down I did too.”

Awkward silence took the reigns yet again in an encounter neither of you expected. Unlike the previous one, it wasn’t an empty street providing him with the opportunity to say any of the things you wanted to hear. It certainly wasn’t the place to get into why he’d so terribly and abruptly ripped your heart clean out of your chest.

“Excuse m-”

“Y/N.” His call paralyzed you.

From within your own body, you watched helplessly as he stepped just a bit closer - shined loafers nearly meeting your gold sandals. Ruben was never in the business of hiding what was on his mind, a trait that evidently remained as he scanned over your daringly cut gown.

At that moment, it felt like more of a curse than a blessing that you chose to wear this of all things tonight.

“If it make things too…difficult, me being teammates with Erling” He whispered. “I can make sure there are no questions if you want to decline.”

A fault line appeared in your composure as you scoffed, blinking in disbelief like you’d been physically struck. Who the fuck did he think he was? Actually, who was this person standing in front of you?

The Ruben you knew was far from this version. Someone who was all but telling you to walk away, much less based on an assumption that his presence in a client’s life was too much for you to handle. Because what, he broke your heart almost a decade ago? Did he really think he held that much power of you still?

Him being here tonight might’ve been a good thing. If you hadn’t ran into him again, you’d still be subconsciously romanticizing the past and letting your mind dip into the imaginary pool of what ifs for longer than you deserved.

Seven years was a long time. It seemed to give Ruben a level of audacity that quite frankly made you feel an emotion that you didn’t think was possible when it came to him, disgust.

Your limbs were suddenly free of any stiffness, and quicker than he could object, you made your way to the exit. You weren’t running away from him this time. Leaving was for the best given the fact that you were seeing red. Besides that, you’d already secured something of a win.

An opportunity that you were going to pursue with every ounce of your being.

[sisterofficerlucychen]

Chenford + 5x16 Tim finds out Lucy got him into Metro!

“Why do you know what the inside of Smitty’s trailer looks like?”

She doesn’t quite get the question at first, mainly because her focus is entirely on ensuring the minced garlic and onion she’s sautéing doesn’t burn but the fact that she’s blocked that entire ordeal from her mind doesn’t help. Cleaning Smitty’s RV was like some twisted circle of hell, one she hoped she wouldn’t get nightmares from. He hadn’t lied when he said it’d been a while since it was last cleaned and Lucy spent the entirely of three hours wondering how Smitty was even able to live like that. One bag became two, two became four, and by the end of the night, she’d taken our nine bags full of trash.

“What?” The question comes out in a small chuckle as she completely misses the point of why he’s asking.

“Smitty, Lucy. Why were you in his RV?”

She looks up this time, a puzzled expression forming across her features as her eyes lock on his and her brows furrow at the question. Tim moves toward her, shutting the door behind him until he stops beside her and she turns to face him. His jaw is hardened, gaze set with anger he’s trying to contain as he crosses his arms against his chest.

It takes her a second for it to click but once it does she knows he doesn’t miss the shift in her reaction as it settles inside her. How brown eyes widen and the soft smile on her lips drop into a frown, the way she’s at a loss for words as her lips part but no sound comes out. She can’t exactly deny it but there was a reason why she went against his back to shuffle all the different chess pieces so he’d end up at Metro.

He waits and it’s ultimately worse than anything else because the way he’s staring her down is something that actually manages to unnerve her. A combination of anger, disappointment, and betrayal. She can’t quite place it but she knows him well enough to know that the flame behind those sparkling eyes hold nothing but an array of negative emotions.

She opens her mouth to speak again but this time, she turns her back on him knowing that this conversation is going to take much longer than she wants and unless they want the LAFD to chime in because of a kitchen fire, the flaming pan on the stove will have to wait. Selfishly though, she uses it to buy herself an extra second or two as she turns the knob to shut off the burner and sets the burning pan aside before turning back to him to meet his eyes.

“I helped him clean it.” “You helped him clean it or you cleaned it?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

“I cleaned it.”

“Why?”

She knows where this is headed and she doesn’t like it. She cleaned it because she owed Smitty a favor, she owed him a favor because Smitty was the only one who could get Fuji to retire, and Fuji retiring opened up the opportunity for Tim. This is where he’s trying to get her to land on and she’s unsure if it’d be easier to just rip the bandaid off or give him a play by play of how they got here.

“He was the only one who could convince Fuji to retire.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“Why?!”

“Fuji retiring was the linchpin. It was the only way to get you into Metro.”

“That wasn’t your call.” 

“Tim!”

“No! That wasn’t your call to make, Lucy!” His voice is a little louder this time, more irritated and she can sense how much he’s trying to keep his emotions in check. She tries to protest but he doesn’t let her get very far. 

“No! No, Lucy! You shouldn’t have meddled, that wasn’t for you to intervene! You had no right to play chess with everyone’s careers!”

“What?” she shakes her head at him because as much as she wants to understand, she doesn’t. She can’t. “I didn’t!”

There’s a defensive edge to her tone, the accusation feeling a little too personal and a bit too invalid. She knows this is what Nyla meant when she first warned her about getting involved but Lucy was adamant to believe that there was any world where this would backfire, it was the perfect plan. Yet, here he stands, actually upset at the fact that she tried to help him.

“No, no!” she argues, “I was helping you!”

“Really? Helping me? Please tell me how losing my entire team’s trust is helping me?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“They think my girlfriend manipulated Fuji, Watson, and Hicks in order for me to get into Metro.”

“That’s not—Tim, no. That’s not what that was.”

“Really? Then what was it? Because it sure as hell seems like it, Lucy!”

“I was trying to look out for you! You were miserable at a desk job, you were one week in and you were already bored out of your mind!”

“But that wasn’t for you to decide!”

“Just like it wasn’t for you to decide to leave patrol? I was going to transfer Tim. I was set, I was ready, I thought we had both agreed on it and you decided to go tell Grey?! If you want to yell at me because I went behind your back, fine, but don’t act like you didn’t have anything to do with this when it was your decision that made me act on it in the first place!”

The expression on his face falls and she can see just how much it took him aback. He’s blinking, trying to digest what she just threw at him and Lucy knows it’s not exactly fair but he’s worked her up enough that she feels cornered and it’s the only thing that comes to mind because the thing is, he was the one who set the domino effect into place.

As upset as she is, as much as she hates how upset he is and the aftermath of it all, she’s not about to apologize for it. The truth is she’s not sorry for getting him out of a desk job.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Luc—“

“No, Tim. You can’t have it both ways. You can’t be mad at me that I intervened when you did the exact same thing. You don’t think I put anything on the line by doing that either? Do you think any of them are going to trust me again? Are you even going to trust me again?” This hits something that she wasn’t expecting as she sees a rollercoaster of emotions pass through him. She can see how he wants to settle on compassion, his jaw unclenching and his gaze softening at her before it morphs into something else: regret. He shakes his head as his lips purse into a thin line.

“I don’t know.” “Right,” she nods softly as she chews on her bottom lip.

There’s something eerily familiar about the situation, the emotions that envelop them being once she’s felt before when the situation was drastically different yet the way she was left feeling felt the same. She swallows hard to try and stop the tears that are welling in her eyes from spilling over.

“I should go.”

Don’t. Don’t leave me, she wants to yell. She wants to stop him, she needs to because she’s so afraid of where they’ve currently landed. It’s their first real fight and as much as she wants to tell herself that this is normal, it doesn’t feel like it. What if they can’t come back from it? What if she really did just ruin the most important relationship in her life? It’s her worst fear come to fruition as she stands there, watching him turn around and walk out the door.

No. No, no, no. There’s a sour taste in her mouth as it hits her how wrong this all is. This isn’t who they are nor who she wants them to be. They’re suppose to be the ones who make it, the ones with the stories for the grandkids, with the phones filled with albums of each other and their kids. This was suppose to be their first Valentine’s Day together, the first of a lifetimes worth. It was suppose to be romantic, sexy, and intimate, not whatever just unraveled before them.

It’s this thought that propels her to move. The determination to not let the love of her life slip past her fingers. He matters too much for her to just leave things as is. He’s worth the effort, that’s the entire reason she got involved in the first place. She needs him to know this, these were the words left unspoken when he asked and she needs him to know that she did it with the best intent. She just hopes she’s not too late.

It feels like forever between her running after him and actually tracking him down in the parking lot. He’s at his truck about to get in as she sprints across the lot to get to him.

“I did it because I love you!”

“What?”

“You asked me why. You asked me why and I didn’t tell you and it’s what I should have said in the first place. I meddled because I love you, Tim. I’m in love with you. I don’t think I have ever loved anyone as much as I love you and it’s terrifying, okay? You challenge me, you inspire me, you make me want to be the best version of myself that I can. You moved out of patrol for me and I was just suppose to sit there and watch you be bored out of your mind? You loved patrol. You didn’t hesitate and I—I couldn’t, I couldn’t let you make this huge sacrifice for me without doing anything for you. You asked me why I did it. I did it because you taught me that some things matter more. I couldn’t just sit there with my arms crossed and not do anything when I knew how much an opportunity at Metro meant. You matter more, Tim. You always have, you always will.”

That wasn’t exactly what she had in mind to say but she doesn’t regret it either. It’s the truth, the inevitable that was going to come out sooner rather than later because Lucy doesn’t even know when she fell in love with him, just that she did.

Yet again, she’s managed to leave him speechless and if the situation wasn’t so dire, she’d be amused by her ability to render him without words so often. Instead, she waits with her breath caught in her chest as seconds seem like years before he does or even says something. An infinity later the expression on his face softens and he’s staring back at her in a way that’s become like home. Her shoulders relax as small smile curves on his lips.

“You love me?”

“I thought that was a given.”

“You’ve never said it.” “I’m saying it now.”

He steps forward, his gaze never breaking from hers as he shifts a loose strand of hair behind her ear as his hands settles on her cheeks.

“Good because I love you too.”