#I feel like this says a lot about me but I’m not sure what exactly

[inseobts]

Time Travel

trafalgar law x reader

what would happen if law finds himself back in the past where the person he secretly loved for years is still alive?

word count: 5.6k

tags: d3ath, time travel, angst, romance

masterlist // ko-fi

The battle had been hard fought, but victory was theirs. The crew of the Polar Tang had emerged victorious against a powerful enemy, though not without their wounds. Law stood at the bow of the ship, his eyes scanning the horizon, his mind too tangled with thoughts to focus on the quiet after the storm.

He wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

The sharp crackle of energy, a distortion in the very air around him. Before he could even react, the world around him swirled into a blur. His ship, his crew, the ocean—all of it seemed to twist and bend in on itself, until everything went silent.

Law staggered back, the strange sensation of time ripping apart around him leaving him disoriented. He couldn’t even register the shock of it before the world shifted again, and suddenly—

He was back.

But not back where he expected. Not where he was, not on the Polar Tang with his crew.

No.

He was on a ship—but not the one he’d been aboard moments ago. The crew around him was… different. Younger.

He looked around, taking in the familiar faces of his old crew. The same crew, but so much younger than he remembered. Shachi, Bepo, Penguin, and… his younger self.

He swallowed hard, his heart pounding. This wasn’t just an ordinary flashback. This was something else entirely. The situation was surreal...impossible, even. But there they were.

He was back in the past. The year when you were still alive.

The crew sense someone behind them and they all turn alarmed and see him, a familiar but different face. They gather on deck, buzzing with questions. Law stands with them, trying to appear composed despite his inner turmoil. His younger self stares at him with wide eyes, as confused as the rest.

“So… what exactly is going on here?” Younger Law demands, still clutching his sword, his eyes darting between the older version of himself and the others “You… You’re me, aren’t you?”

Law rubs his temples, trying to gather his thoughts. He can’t reveal too much, he doesn't know what happened and why he was there, but one thing he knows is that he can’t change anything that would affect the timeline.

“You could say that” he replies quietly “But I can’t tell you everything. It could alter the future in ways I can’t predict”

The crew watches, sit all around him, eager, full of questions. But Law can’t answer them. Not really.

"You don't look good Captain. It looks like something happened that changed you" Bepo says with a worried face "you look sad and dull"

"Yeah" Penguin nods looking between Law and his younger-form "did something bad happened? To us?"

"I can't say anything, I'm sorry" Law answers.

“Why are you here, then?” Shachi asks, his eyes suspicious but full of curiosity. “If you can’t tell us about the future, why show up? And you keep looking around like you're searching for something”

“I… I didn’t have a choice” Law’s voice is low, strained “I was brought here by someone or something. I can’t explain it. But I’m trying to make sure certain things… stay the same. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you"

Law clenches his fists at his side, wishing he could just tell them everything. But the risks were too high. There was no way to undo the damage if he did.

He shifts uncomfortably “Some things… are better left unknown. It's for your own good too”

Penguin watches him for a moment before lowering his head in understanding “I get it. It’s a lot.”

You, meanwhile, looked at the scene from afar. You were in the usual spot you used to hide in, watching quietly. You’re studying Law with an odd curiosity, but you’re noticing how different he looks from the man you knew.

Eventually, the questions begin to fade away, and the crew starts to break apart for the evening, everyone heading off in different directions.

Law feels a presence behind him and turns, seeing you walking toward him.

As you walk toward him, you see his face completely change expression, becoming one full of sadness and regrets.

He stands up abruptly.

“You’re not gonna run off, are you?” you ask, a small smile playing on your lips.

He blinks at you, surprised “I wasn’t planning to”

You tilt your head, studying him closely “It’s a little… overwhelming, isn’t it? All these questions, all these things you can’t talk about”

He stares at you, unsure how to answer. The weight of seeing you alive again is heavier than he could’ve imagined. Your smile is just as he remembers. Your eyes—the same ones he fell for so long ago—hold a curious warmth.

You break the silence again, your voice softer now “So… I promise I won't tell anyone. What happens to us in the future?”

It’s like a punch to the gut. Law wants to tell you. He wants to share everything with you... to make sure you know how much he loves you, how much he regrets never telling you before. But the words stick in his throat. He can’t risk changing anything. If he tells you too much, it could cause a ripple that would undo everything.

“You know I can’t say anything” Law says, his voice quiet, almost strained “I wish I could. But I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to change anything.”

You nod, almost as if you knew that would be his answer. You glance down at your hands, your expression thoughtful.

“Right… So I guess I won’t get any answers” You look up at him again, eyes searching his face for something “Well, there’s one thing I can ask that’s… probably safe.”

Law blinks, confused “What?”

You hesitate for a moment before asking softly, “Are we together? In the future, I mean. Are we… together?”

The question hits him like a bolt of lightning. His heart races, the truth weighing on him like a ton of bricks.

He realizes, suddenly, painfully, that he never really knew for sure if you felt the same. He never got the chance to know because he lost you before he could even confess his true feelings. And now, here you are, asking him, and he can’t give you the answer you deserve.

It was always a mutual love, but he never knew it. Not until now.

Law opens his mouth, but no words come out. He’s too caught up in the truth of it, in the painful realization that he should have said something sooner.

You smile, regret in your face for asking him that. You look down to avoid his eyes "I take it as a no..."

“I… I don’t know” he mutters finally, his voice barely above a whisper “I don’t know what happens.”

You smile faintly, as if you believe his lie “It’s okay. I guess… I guess I’ll just have to live to find out later on, right?”

He watches you for a moment longer, the pain of it all almost unbearable. You smile again, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

Later that evening Law walks quietly through the ship, his mind racing. He stops at the railing and looks out at the ocean, his thoughts heavy.

He wishes that you could survive, that you don't have to die the way you did. But how can he change the past without destroying everything else? Is it selfish of him if he is actually thinking about destrying the whole future to let you live?

Then he sees it—his younger self, standing on the deck, staring at you from a distance. The longing in his eyes is so clear, so painfully obvious.

Young Law’s gaze lingers on you, a soft expression on his face. He’s too scared, too silent, too unsure to say anything.

Now that Law knows about your feelings he wants to push his young-self into doing what he's so scared to do. Even if he can't change the future he wants the two of you to talk your hearts out so that in the future you won't die with the regret, so that he himself don't have to live with the same regret. Maybe the time you two have together isn't a lot but it's enough for living your love just a bit.

Law approaches him quietly, careful not to interrupt his thoughts. “You need to tell her,” he says softly “Before it’s too late.”

The younger Law turns, surprised, but doesn’t ask for clarification. He just looks back at you, still holding back, unsure.

“I can’t make you do anything, but if you wait, you might lose your chance forever” Law continues, his voice low, filled with the pain of his own unspoken words.

The younger Law says nothing, his gaze still focused on you. But after a long pause, he nods, a soft resolve settling in his eyes.

The next few days pass in a haze for Law. He tries to focus on the mission at hand, hoe to go back to his timeline and on the reason he was sent back in time—something about the crew’s safety and preventing a dangerous chain of events. But all he can think about is you, and the heartbreaking truth that he can’t tell you.

The most painful part is knowing that he’s already seen your death. He’s already lived through the pain of losing you, but now, seeing you alive again—alive in this timeline—he feels a gnawing desperation. He doesn't want that future to happen.

Later, on deck Law finds himself standing near the railing, staring out at the vast ocean as the crew moves around the ship. His thoughts are dark, clouded with regret, and he can’t seem to shake the image of you from his mind.

That push on his younger self wan't enough, but he can't risk more. His younger self, as always, is keeping to himself, sitting off to the side, hands on his sword. He’s quieter than usual, his eyes often drifting toward you—toward the woman he loves but hasn’t yet realized if and how to confess.

Law can’t help the sigh that escapes his lips. It’s a sharp, frustrated exhale, the weight of all the things he wants to say but can’t. It’s a constant battle in his head, fighting against the rules of time and destiny.

“Everything okay, Captain?” Shachi’s voice breaks through his thoughts.

Law turns to him, forcing a tight smile “Yeah. Just thinking”

Shachi looks at him, clearly sensing the tension, but doesn’t press the issue. Instead, he glances toward where younger Law is sitting, looking at you from a distance.

“Hey, what’s up with the kid?” Shachi asks “He’s been acting kind of… strange, lately.”

Law looks over, his gaze following Shachi’s. His younger self is staring at you, his expression distant but soft. There’s something in the way he watches you, something that Law recognizes all too well—longing, fear, hesitation.

“He’s… figuring things out” Law mutters, his voice heavy. He’s been hoping that his younger self would listen to him—that he would understand, act before it’s too late. But part of him still feels a lingering doubt.

“You think he’s gonna do something about it?” Shachi continues, raising an eyebrow “It’s kind of obvious he, or you for what it can mean, is in love with her”

“I actually don't know but I hope so” Law says, more to himself than to anyone else “I hope so”

Shachi nods and is about to leave when Law stops him "Tell me... was I always so obvious?"

He looks shocked to hear is Captain asking this but compose himself into a soft smile "We all knew from the beginning that you love her, you started acting different as soon as she arrived here. On the other hand y/n is more difficult to read"

This makes Law lose himself in thoughts again. The whole crew knew, this means they have a lot of regrets as well for what happened to you, to the both of you.

Later that nigh, the crew sits around the table, sharing a quiet meal. You’re there, of course, laughing with the others, the familiar warmth of your presence filling the room. Law can’t help but glance at you from time to time. He’s only allowed to watch you from a distance now, but it’s a sharp, painful reminder of everything he never said.

He catches sight of his younger self, who’s watching you too. This time, however, there’s something different in his expression. His eyes aren’t just filled with longing, they’re filled with determination.

His younger self stands suddenly, pushing his chair back and leave the crew confused. For a moment, Law feels a surge of hope. His younger self is acting on it. He’s going to do something.

On deck, under the stars, Young Law walks toward you, the weight of what he’s about to do heavy on his shoulders. You’re sitting by the edge of the ship, looking out at the night sky, lost in thoughts. When you hear him approach, you turn, offering him a warm, friendly smile.

“You sure you should be out here alone?” he asks, his voice hesitant “It’s a bit… quiet.”

You tilt your head, a teasing glint in your eyes “Isn’t that the point of being alone? You should try it sometime.”

He pauses, taking in your words, your smile. His heart beats harder in his chest, unsure of how to proceed. He’s always been like this—silent, holding back, afraid to say the things he really feels.

But now, after hearing Law’s advice, he knows what he needs to do.

“I… I need to tell you something” he says, his voice quieter than usual.

You raise an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued “What’s that?”

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. He’s scared, but the truth has to come out “I… I like you. I like you more than just as a friend. I’ve always… I’ve always liked you.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. But then, you smile, and it’s so bright, so genuine, that his chest aches with relief.

“I’m glad you finally said something” you reply softly “I… I’ve always felt the same way.”

His heart stops. The words hit him like a wave crashing over him, drowning him in warmth and hope “Wait… you do?”

You laugh softly, your eyes glimmering in the moonlight “Of course. It was pretty obvious, don’t you think?”

Young Law smiles, a small but relieved smile. He’s never felt this light before, this certain. For the first time, he’s no longer holding back.

Present-Law watching the scene from afar with the crew. Tears in his eyes because now he knows you got the chance to love each other even if for a short time.

Suddenly there's a blinding light and a few moments later when Law opens his eyes again he finds himself laying in a bed in the nurse of the Polar Tang. His mind is spinning..

He returns to the Polar Tang, to his crew, to the present. Was is all a dream? What actually happened?

Bepo at his side, sleeping.

He gets up waking him up and confused, the first thing Law asks "Did I ever got the chance to confess my feelings to y/n?"

"Captain are you okay? Why suddenly ask that?" Bepo says panicking.

Law sigh and firmly add "Just answer".

He's scared, he's scared it was all just a dream. Scared you died without knowing about his feelings just has it actually happened. Scared that maybe you actually never reciprocated his feelings, his love.

"Of course you did"

Law's eyes widened, his heart beating fast as never before. It wasn't a dream. He was actually able to change that small but important part of the past. You died knowing about his love. He lost you but not without giving you his full love.

He gets up and steps onto the deck.

There you are. Standing right in front of him, alive, vibrant, and here.

He stops, unable to breathe for a moment. His mind races. This can’t be right. He’s seen you die. He’s seen your body fall—he’s seen everything. But now you’re here, smiling at him like nothing ever happened.

“y/n?” He barely manages to choke out your name, his voice filled with disbelief.

You smile at him, a familiar, gentle smile “You finally woke up. What’s wrong, Captain? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Law’s world tilts on its axis. He can’t understand it. He doesn’t know how this is possible—how you’re alive in front of him now.

But there’s only one explanation: the confession. His younger self’s confession. Somehow, it saved you.

He watches you, stunned, his chest tightening as emotions flood him.

“I—I thought I… I thought you…” he stammers.

You tilt your head, noticing his confusion “What’s the matter?”

The weight of it all is too much for him. He can’t speak, can’t form the words. But deep inside, he knows this is it—the moment when everything changed. The future he thought was set in stone, the future that broke him, had shifted. And you… you were still alive.

He shakes his head, trying to collect himself. He knows he’s seeing you right in front of him, alive, as if the death he witnessed in the past never happened. He swallows, his throat tight, unable to find the words to express the overwhelming rush of emotions.

“You… You’re…” He struggles to speak, but the confusion weighs him down. It’s not just the shock of seeing you alive—it’s everything that led to this moment, everything that shouldn’t have happened.

You raise an eyebrow, stepping closer to him “What happened? Is something wrong?”

“No” Law says finally, his voice hoarse “No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just… I don’t understand.”

“Are you okay?” you ask, your voice soft with concern, breaking through the tangle of thoughts in his head.

Law doesn’t know how to respond. He doesn’t know what to say to you, not when everything feels like it’s slipping through his fingers. He’s terrified that this shift in fate—this small change—could lead to something even worse.

“I’m fine” he says, forcing a smile, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. His mind is still racing, trying to process what’s happened. He doesn’t know how this happened—how the timeline could have been altered so drastically—but he knows one thing for sure.

“You’re here” he repeats, as if the words will make sense of the situation “You’re alive.”

You blink, a little confused by his intensity “Well, of course I’m alive, Captain. Why wouldn’t I be?”

A sharp pain stabs at Law’s chest as he recalls the past—the version of the future where you were dead. It had been so final, so irreversible. The pain of losing you had been one of the deepest regrets of his life. But now? Now, there’s a chance, maybe a small one, but still a chance, that things could be different.

The realization crashes over him like a tidal wave.

He looks at you again, this time with a weight that wasn’t there before. You’re alive. You’re here. And he didn’t have to lose you, not like before. His younger self had given him a second chance, and now… he has to hold on to that. He has to protect it.

He runs to close the distance between you two and hugs you like he never has. You're too schocked to move at first but then you put your hands around him.

Later, in the crew’s quarters, Law lies awake in his hammock, his thoughts spinning out of control. How could things change so quickly, so drastically? He can’t understand it. He should have never interfered, never given that advice to his younger self. But then again, he couldn’t let you die "again" without knowing that you were loved.

A soft knock at the door pulls him from his thoughts. He doesn’t need to ask who it is.

“Come in” he says quietly.

The door creaks open, and there you are, standing in the doorway. You look at him with a slight frown, your arms crossed over your chest.

“You’re still awake” you say, your voice gentle “Everything okay? You’ve been acting… different.”

Law sits up slightly in his hammock, his heart racing again. He’s never been good at hiding his feelings, and right now, his emotions are a whirlwind. How could he explain to you what he’s feeling? How could he tell you what’s going on in his head when he barely understands it himself?

“I’m… fine” he says, though it feels like a lie. He’s anything but fine. “Just thinking.”

You step into the room, closing the door behind you, and sit down on the chair across from him. “About what?”

“About… everything” he mutters “About how things are different now.”

You look at him, studying him closely. You can tell something’s weighing on him “Different how?” you ask, your voice soft but insistent.

He looks at you, torn between the need to protect you and the crushing urge to be honest. But he’s afraid of what that honesty might cost him. He’s afraid that if he tells you too much, it will change everything again.

“You wouldn’t understand” he says, his voice low. He can’t bring himself to explain the truth, at least not now.

You fake to be offended with a funny expression, and he loves when you do that because it makes you even cuter. You study him for a moment, your expression unreadable. Then, as if deciding something, you stand and walk over to him. Without a word, you reach out and gently place your hand on his arm.

“I understand more than you think” you say quietly, your fingers warm against his skin “You don’t have to carry all this on your own. You don’t have to hide from me.”

The softness in your voice, the warmth of your touch, cracks something deep inside him. His chest tightens, his breath catching in his throat. How could he have been so blind to what was right in front of him all this time?

He looks at you, really looks at you for the first time since he arrived in this timeline, and suddenly, he sees it all... the way you care for him, the way you’ve always been there, despite the unspoken distance between you. He realizes that he never really understood the depth of your feelings until now, and maybe that’s what changed. Maybe that’s the gift he was given, a second chance to finally get it.

“You’re right" he whispers, his voice thick with emotion “I don’t want to hide anymore.”

You look at him in surprise, your eyes widening slightly “What do you mean?”

He swallows hard, gathering the courage to say the words that have been buried deep inside him for so long.

“I… I love you” he says quietly, but with absolute certainty. The words feel like a weight lifted off his shoulders, the truth finally out in the open.

You smile, a small but genuine smile, and take a step closer to him “I think I’ve known that for a while”

You both sit in silence for a moment, you studying him while he's still lost in his thoughts. The weight of the admission must hit you differently, given all the strange tension and confusion his behavior has caused since his return to the present. But then you speak, and your words pull him back from the edge of his spiraling thoughts.

“Well, if it’s any comfort, I love you too” you say, your tone light but sincere “I mean, you’re kind of an idiot sometimes, and you’ve got this whole ‘broody loner’ thing that’s exhausting to keep up with, but… yeah. I love you, idiot”

The way you say it, so unguarded, so natural, he didn't realise how much he needed to hear those words until now, even though they come from you here, in this altered present.

He exhales a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair “You really don’t make things easy, do you?”

You smirk, stepping closer to him, your arms crossing over your chest “That’s part of my charm”

Law shakes his head, the corners of his lips twitching upward despite the heaviness still clinging to him. For the first time since he returned to this timeline, he feels lighter—like the crushing weight of regret and grief that had followed him for years is finally lifting.

But there’s still a lingering doubt in his mind. Did he truly rewrite the future, or is this just a fleeting moment of borrowed time? And if things really have changed, how much has been altered?

You notice him deep in thought again, so you lean in and press a quick, gentle kiss to his cheek. The sudden gesture pulls him out of his thoughts, and he turns to look at you, his expression of surprise. You can’t help but laugh at his reaction.

“Captain, why the shocked face? We’ve done worse than this” you tease, offering him a playful wink as you start walking towards the door “Sleep well now.”

On the Polar Tang, it doesn’t take long for the crew to notice the shift between you and Law.

“Uh, are you two… okay?” Shachi asks, looking back and forth between the two of you as you stand side by side on the deck.

You raise an eyebrow “Why wouldn’t we be?”

“Dunno. Maybe because since the day he fainted, Captain here looks like he saw the ghost of his past mistakes?” Penguin says.

“Enough” Law snaps, his voice low but firm. He doesn’t need the crew making a spectacle of this, not when he’s still trying to make sense of everything himself.

You, on the other hand, seem entirely unfazed by their reactions. You smirk, leaning against the railing with an air of casual confidence. “What’s the matter, Captain? Wanna give them something to really talk about?”

Law groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. You’ve always had a way of getting under his skin, but somehow, it feels different now, lighter, even.

“Don’t you all have work to do?” he mutters, turning his back to them and stalking off toward the ship’s interior.

But as he walks away, he catches the faint sound of your laughter behind him, and for the first time in a long while, it doesn’t sting.

Later that evening, Law finds himself alone in his quarters, staring down at a stack of charts and papers he’s been meaning to sort through. But his mind isn’t on his work, it’s on you, on the way your presence has started to fill the cracks in his carefully constructed walls.

He still doesn’t know how this timeline shift works. Did his advice to his younger self truly rewrite everything? And if so, how much of the past is still the same? Did your future really change or is it just temporary?

His thoughts spiral as he recalls the moment his younger self finally confessed to you. It was a subtle nudge, a small push in the right direction, but it had changed everything. If his younger self hadn’t listened, if he hadn’t acted, would you still be gone? Would you have died with regrets, with unspoken feelings left between you?

A knock at the door pulls him from his thoughts, and he looks up to see you standing there, leaning casually against the frame.

“Captain” you say, your tone light but teasing “You’re brooding again.”

He sighs, gesturing for you to come in “What do you want?”

You step into the room, closing the door behind you “Just checking on you. You’ve been acting really weird lately”

Law leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest “I’m fine now”

“You always say that” you reply, walking over to stand in front of his desk “But we both know it’s not true. So what’s really going on?”

For a moment, he considers brushing you off, keeping the truth locked away like he always does. But then he looks at you, really looks at you, and he sees the concern in your eyes, the genuine care that you’ve always shown him, even when he didn’t deserve it.

And he realizes that maybe, just this once, he doesn’t have to carry the weight alone.

“I…” he hesitates, the words catching in his throat “I was afraid I’d lost you.”

Your eyes widen slightly at his admission, but you don’t interrupt, giving him the space to continue.

“There was a time when you weren’t here” he says quietly, his voice thick with emotion “And it was… unbearable. I didn’t know how to fix it, how to stop it. And now…” He looks down at his hands, his fingers curling into fists. “Now, you’re here, and I don’t know if it’s real or if it’s just another cruel trick.”

You take a step closer to him, reaching out to place a hand on his arm “I’m here, Law,” you say softly “I was always here with you and I'll always be. Whatever happened, whatever you went through… I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He looks up at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt or hesitation. But all he sees is the same fierce determination that he’s always admired in you.

For the first time since his return to the present, he feels a flicker of hope, hope that maybe, just maybe, this new future is something he can hold on to.

Most of the crew is asleep, leaving Law in the solitude of his quarters. He stares out of the small circular window, his mind a battlefield of thoughts. He knows he should be relieved, grateful, that you’re alive, but a part of him can’t let go of the fear. The fear that this could all slip away in an instant.

The soft creak of the door pulls him from his thoughts. He doesn’t need to turn around to know it’s you.

“You’re still awake... again” you say, your voice quiet but firm.

He sighs, his back still to you “I could say the same to you.”

“Touché.” You step further into the room, and the door clicks softly shut behind you “You know, I’ve been thinking.”

“Dangerous” he mutters, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips despite himself.

You roll your eyes, though he can’t see it “Funny. But seriously, I’ve been thinking about… us.”

That makes him turn. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, he feels his breath catch in his throat.

“What about us?” he asks, his voice low.

You take a deep breath, stepping closer to him “I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday. About how you were afraid you’d lost me.”

His jaw tightens, and he looks away “I shouldn’t have said that. It was selfish.”

“No, it wasn’t” you say firmly, closing the distance between you “It was honest. And I don’t want you to think you have to keep all of that to yourself anymore.”

Law exhales, running a hand through his hair “You don’t understand,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper “I’ve seen what it’s like to lose you. I’ve lived with it. And I don’t know if I can do that again.”

Your heart aches at the raw vulnerability in his voice. Without thinking, you reach out and place a hand on his chest, right over his heart.

“You won’t lose me” you say softly “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

He looks down at you, his eyes searching yours. There’s so much he wants to say, so much he wants to explain, but the words catch in his throat. Instead, he reaches up, his hand covering yours where it rests against his chest.

The silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken emotions. And then, almost imperceptibly, he leans down, his forehead brushing against yours.

“y/n…” he murmurs, his voice trembling.

You close your eyes, leaning into him. “I’m here, Law. I’m right here. We chose a life that’s unpredictable as pirates. I know that. But that doesn’t mean we can’t allow ourselves to love. Do you think it would hurt less if we didn’t use the time we have together to love each other? Because I don’t think so. In fact, I think the opposite.”

Something inside him breaks at your words, the walls he’s so carefully constructed over the years crumbling in an instant. He tilts his head slightly, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative, almost hesitant kiss.

The contact sends a jolt through both of you, and for a moment, neither of you moves. But then you press closer, your hand sliding up to cup his face, deepening the kiss. It’s not hurried or frantic, it’s soft and deliberate, a silent promise that neither of you is willing to let go of this moment.

When you finally pull away, you’re both breathing heavily, your foreheads still pressed together.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he admits, a small, nervous laugh escaping.

You chuckle softly as his thumb brushing against your cheek.

You smile, and for the first time in what feels like forever, he feels like the weight of the world isn’t resting on his shoulders.

“I mean it, Law” you say, your voice serious now. “Whatever happens, we’ll face it together. You don’t have to do this alone.”

He nods, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Thank you” he murmurs against your hair.

For the first time in years, he allows himself to hope, for you, for him, for a future that no longer feels so uncertain.

[hrrtshape]

hi lovely!! i literally screamed when i saw the post of you shifting, you're my beyoncé. anyway, cause you've experienced shifting for long periods of time (15 days🥳) , does it ever feel like you have imposter syndrome / feeling out of place while you're there?? or like there's an impending doom for when you'll come back? i'm sorry this is terribly worded idk how to express my own fears of this 😵‍💫 did you feel as though you belonged? like it was yours completely? maybe i'm just overthinking but that feeling is a fear of mine. thank you!! (btw i'm thrilled for you!!) 💋 💋

fifteen days of silk & then a faceplant into the pavement. AKA my adjustment period.

it’s the morning after after, and i am back. back where? back here. alright. i’m back. ta-da. curtain drop. applause. except no one is clapping, and i don’t have the grace to bow. i woke up, and the ceiling wasn’t mine. the sheets weren’t mine. the air wasn’t the same expensive, citrine-tinged, cocktail-laced kind of air that had been curling in my lungs for two weeks. and i, hypocritical sucker that i am, had the nerve to be shocked about it.

i mean, sure. i knew it was coming. you don’t get to play house with a world that isn’t your baseline forever. but the thing is, i didn’t leave on purpose. i didn’t wake up with some cinematic, soft-focus farewell to my penthouse and my perfect cheekbones and my whole life of rich-girl ease. i got bpd'ed out of there. i had a moment, no, a stroke, full collapse, full-sent spiral. and the next thing I knew, i was here, in this reality, where my skin feels like it's on a half-second delay and my body doesn't move quite right.

fifteen days. the number sits heavy on my tongue for a reason. a reality where i belonged in the way that swans belong to lakes. without question, without effort, slipping into the water as if it were their own reflection. my existence hummed in sync with the great, golden machine of my cr, and yet. and yet.

did i ever feel out of place? i don’t think out of place is the right word. it wasn’t a foreignness, not an exile, more like standing in a room where you know every guest, yet you catch your own reflection and flinch. who is she? the one with pearls at her throat, ease in her fingertips, a name that opens doors before it’s even fully spoken. she is me. she was me. she was me for fifteen days, and then i blinked, and she is somewhere else, still living, still breathing, still slipping into taxis and tilting her chin in the golden hour light.

and yeah. it stings. a lot. like falling out of a dream where someone loved you exactly right, only to wake up and realise your phone is on 2%, your bank account is a joke, and the best thing in your fridge is an almost-empty bottle of soy milk. i spent fifteen days in a world where i never had to check my bank account because obviously i was wealthy, and now i have to talk myself down from a full-fledged existential crisis just because i blinked and lost it.

so, do i feel like it was ever really mine? and the answer is: yes, yes, of course, yes. i don’t care what reality says. i belonged there like my name was engraved on the buildings. i had favourite cafés, i had people, i had a version of myself so polished and effortless she felt inevitable. i belonged there in the way that clouds belong to the sky, like obviously, what else would i be doing?

and yet. and yet !!!!

i woke up here. which means what? that this reality wins by default? that i’m supposed to accept it, tuck myself back into it like an old sweater, pretend like my body doesn’t feel like it got kicked out of the garden of eden for crying too hard? i don’t know. i don’t know. what i do know is that the transition is brutal, and i miss myself. i miss the version of me that didn’t have to think about belonging, because she just did. i miss the feeling of it, the seamlessness, the way my life there was perfectly hemmed to fit me.

but i won’t lie. i woke up today, and for a split second, i expected the skyline to still be waiting for me. i expected to turn my head on the pillow and see the drape of new york twilight against a window that was mine. instead, i saw this world, my room, this life. it took me a breath, a deep one, the kind that scalds the lungs, to remember that i belong everywhere i have ever been. the city does not crumble because i have left it. it remembers me. it holds my laughter in its pavements, my perfume in the folds of its air. i will return. i will always return.

maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually. and when i do, i’ll stay longer. i’ll land softer. i’ll make sure the next time i wake up, it’s because i decided to.

[nightwingsgypsyrep]

So I definitely feel like I will be adding to this post quite a bit, and this first addition is coming after @jjohnnyutah’s fantastic reply, which kinda summarised the history a bit more.

As I said earlier, I was really umming and aahing about making this post, because I’m still new to a lot of the comics, so this was really inspired by what I have been able to get my hands on (literally… I started out borrowing my friend’s comics last year) whilst I’m slowly making my way through what’s available online. As it is, you can probably see that I was able to read more of the modern stuff than the older stuff so far. I didn’t really want to make a post until I had read more but hey I’m adhd as hell and intended to just make a small one in reply to the tags and it spiralled from there. I did try to find some info of what I missed online but apparently that left out a lot! So this post is gonna have constant updates of me doing a DC and retconning stuff as I learn more.

So, anyway, jjohnnyutah’s reply addressed a couple of things. Firstly was Mary’s origin as a dental hygienist, rather than being from the circus herself originally. Can’t lie, I actually love this for her. Is it super unusual from a how-gypsies-work perspective? Sure. But like I say, a lot of my cousins are Diddakois, and I kinda love the idea of Mary coming into the fold, when just as often, the gypsy partner ends up leaving it. Of course, there’s nothing to say for sure that Mary did not have Romani ancestry (like I say, in the N52 modern stuff, she was friends with other Romani characters, so she wasn’t completely unfamiliar with the Romani sphere) - I, myself, am a gypsy with a degree, so it’s not exactly like getting a different job cancels your Gypsy Card. Although I do really love the idea of Mary being a gypsy and working as a dentist for the simple reason that, although attitudes to education have greatly improved in recent years, my family would have lost their shit if I got my degree twenty years ago, as it would have been seen as ruining my prospects. So from a feminist perspective, I really love the idea of Mary having at least some Romani heritage too.

The other is Dick not knowing much about his heritage and wanting to learn more, and let me tell you, I feel that. Even growing up surrounded by it, my dad’s side of the family never told me anything. I didn’t even get confirmation of how many siblings my grandmother had until she died. My mum’s side was much more forthcoming. Like I say, I’ve had a lot less opportunity to read the (let’s face it) better older stuff so seeing what I have of it, it seemed more of a given that Dick knew something. The reason for this presumption was mostly of how much Romani he’s seen to know even early on?? As I’ve said on previous posts, in the modern day, Romani is a lot less complete for actual use, so how much he knows is impressive. But yeah, this has just made me so much more excited to continue reading. But at the same time, fully expect another post from me six months from now when I’m more caught up calling myself an idiot. Ta x

Ok so I’ve been umming and ahhing about making this post for a while. I’ve always kinda planned on it, but seeing these tags on a previous post of mine (no hate to this user) made me want to post something now. It’s also gone 3am. So it’s not really going to be very clean and tidy, and will probably be a bit rambling, but I can always post a ‘tidy’ version another time.

So! Tackling Dick Grayson’s Romani/GRTSB heritage (warning: it’s a long one)

So, as usual, a few disclaimers: 1) I am not American. 2) I myself fall under the GRTSB umbrella - for clarity, I am from the fairground/circus so a Showman, but my family were simply ‘gypsies’ before getting involved in that in the Victorian period, so I use gypsy/traveller/Showman for myself. I also speak Romani and grew up in the culture and on the grounds. I’m not just talking out of my arse, I promise. 3) I do not pretend to have read every comic. However, this post will be based in things which DC have published (yeah I know it gets retconned every two minutes but hey, I’m working with it), even if some of it is more speculative/Headcanony, it will all be canon-compliant/what makes sense based on my own experiences. 4) That being said, everyone who does in some way fall under the GRTSB acronym will have different experiences and opinions, and all are equally valid and should be respected. 5) I use the term ‘gypsy’ a lot. Where I am from, it is not a slur, but is used almost a catch-all phrase for GRTSB people, by us. We also see Dick use it so I’m going to. I personally don’t mind if people use it (so long as they don’t use it as an insult) but not everyone will feel that way, so it’s always better to ask individuals. 6) this post is intended as a fun exploration of a character whom I relate to based on our shared heritage (when it’s really rare to find characters like that). I’m not trying to dictate to you how you should interpret Dick’s character. You’re welcome to different opinions and interpretations - this is just one of mine! :)

So, first, what is GRTSB? Well, it’s an acronym which covers all aspects of the gypsy/traveller umbrella. It is used in British legislation. It stands for Gypsy Romani Traveller Showman (aka fairground and circus) Boater. Under British legislation, only the first three (Gypsies, Romani, and Travellers) are considered an ethnic identity, whilst Showmen and Boaters are considered a cultural identity.

This is absolutely FULL of problems and has been hotly debated for years, with different people identifying in different ways. People who share the same/very similar ethnic heritage (i.e. siblings, or cousins) can have completely different points of view on what they identify as. As such, don’t take it as gospel - it’s more of a guideline than anything. Especially since a) these groups often intermarry, meaning that someone can be multiple at once; b) if a Showman stops travelling with the fair and settles, they don’t become a non-traveller, because it’s in your blood, not just a job; c) people can trace their heritage back past a particular group - e.g. my own family (circus and fairgrounds aka Showmen) can be traced back to at least the 1600s, before fairs were really a thing - at the time, they simply identified as gypsies. They didn’t stop being gypsies just because they changed their job/founded a circus/fairground. As such, many in my family identify primarily as a gypsy or traveller, and a Showman secondarily, whilst others do the opposite, or identify as just a Showman or just a traveller/gypsy. Like I say, this classification is not perfect, and is hotly debated, especially at the present time.

So, now, onto the subject of Dick Grayson. I included the tags above mostly because of the ‘tell me you don’t know a character without telling me you don’t know a character’, because, firstly, rude. secondly, the poster makes reference to the Golden Age. And yeah, obviously DC aren’t going to make reference to Dick being a gypsy in the Golden Age - do you really expect writers in the 40s to care enough about the nuances of a character’s ethnic heritage, especially a gypsy, at a time when it was still common even in countries like England (where legal segregation wasn’t a thing) to have signs on pubs like ‘no blacks, no Irish, no dogs, no gypsies’ - btw we still get those occasionally? However, if we look at the comics which have been published in the eighty five years since Dick’s debut, we see a lot of references to Dick having Romani/GRTSB heritage. Again, I’m not well read, but in Grayson’s run, at least, we do see Dick speaking Romani and self-identifying as a gypsy (Nightwing #91 btw). So I’m sorry but it is definitely canon that Dick has at least some Romani heritage (since Romani, by culture, is not taught to non-travellers on purpose, and is thus only passed down from parent to child. Hell, even some of my cousins who are half gypsy - Diddakois - don’t know the language!), and the fact that he speaks it and IDs as a gypsy does suggest that this is something important to him and his character. I know that being a gypsy is certainly a big thing to me (with how the world treats us, you have to be proud of it and have it be important to you to make it worth it).

So now we come onto the second part of my rant: wtf is going on with Haly’s Circus.

So, an important bit of context is, what makes a gypsy a gypsy? And the answer to that, in my opinion, is a mix between culture and blood. You can’t be a gypsy (unless in circumstances like adoption) unless you have both. What I mean by that is, if you’ve got one gypsy great great great grandparent, but weren’t bought up with the culture and morals, you have gypsy heritage but are not a gypsy. However, if you are a gypsy and you decide to settle down in a house, work in an office, and never speak Romani again, you are still a gypsy. Similarly, if you suddenly decide to take on the gypsy lifestyle (maybe work on the fairgrounds or in the circus, or go travelling like the New Age lot), you are not a gypsy, because it’s not in your blood - hence why it’s an ethnicity, not a cultural thing really. As such, it is common for there to be a us vs them mentality even with those working on the ground - you have the gypsy/traveller/Showman who tends to own/run things, and then you have hired non-GRTSB staff (traditionally called chaps, but this has fell out of fashion in recent years).

Now, I make this distinction because Haly’s Circus is really odd in that regard.

Most gypsy (or Showmen - like I say, it can be both at the same time) ran circuses and fairs tend to be family affairs. For example, it might be John Doe’s Circus on the tin, but the Smith family (which Mr Doe’s sister married into) will often work with and alongside the Does in the running and operating of the events. Largely, this is on an ownership level, with various relations then owning the surrounding supporting elements (e.g. sideshows, fairground rides and joints, food kiosks). Other family members might then help ‘mind’ the stuff, or you can hire non-GRTSB staff to help.

Now to draw on my own family history: historically, in the Victorian period, etc, it was common for the gypsy family who owned the circus to also perform in it. For example, in my grandfather’s circus, my grandmother was a lion tamer and equestrian performer in parades. They did also hire non-traveller performers, but there wasn’t such a distinct line. However, by the 30s approximately, this had changed to be a more managerial role, with it being more common to have purely hired performers in the main event. The exception here was for sideshows and fairground rides - it is still common today for these to be ran/worked by GRTSB people (e.g. my grandmother did the dookering - fortune telling - and my grandfather did the boxing; today, we still run and operate the rides and kiosks).

However, we know that Haly’s circus was not like that. We honestly don’t know if Haly was a gypsy or not. Also, usually, gypsies have such big families and are surrounded by them, but we know that the Graysons died with no living family (no William Cobb does not count here) and had no relation to anyone at Haly’s. I suppose if you want a canon answer, you could point to how Haly’s was used by the Court of Owls, but it could just be Like That. This is unusual but not unheard of, but still worth pointing out I think. Alternatively, it could originate from one of the non-GRTSB started circuses which were popular around the turn of the 20th century. Since being a gypsy is really tied to your family name and, ethnically, means you have to be born into it - you can’t just start a fair and claim to be one-, even 120 years later, these families are still met with scepticism - they could marry into a 100% gypsy family in 1901, and have all of their descendants do the same, and still the older generation would look at their surname and scoff and say they’re not a real traveller because that one great grandfather 100 years ago was not a born-and-bred traveller. But honestly, I think 100 years is enough to integrate. So, to summarise, Haly’s circus is quite unusual in that it does not appear to be operated by only gypsies/Showmen, even if it still common for circuses not to be performed in by just gypsies.

Now, to answer, how Romani is Dick Grayson?

Like I say, canon does explicitly tell us that he has Romani heritage, placing him firmly within that second category of the GRTSB acronym (and he also identifies with the more general Gypsy identity). However, it’s frankly unlikely that the writers really went in depth with the whole GRTSB thing, so I think we can tentatively suggest that he might have also identified (keyword here being ‘might’ - this is more canon-compliant HC here y’all) as a Showman (called a Carney in the US) because the whole deal with being a Showman is the circus/fairground aspect (but, like I say, it is still a ‘gypsy’ identity as you must be born a Showman, you can’t just sign up, because it is based on a mutual gypsy heritage which predates fairgrounds/circuses, which means it still fits into what we know of Dick in canon. As such, Dick being a Showman is hardly canon, but it is 100% compliant with what we know of Dick in canon). As I’ve said, they are not mutually exclusive. He could ID as both or either, or just prefer the all-encompassing ‘gypsy’.

Now, we also know that Dick is not 100% gypsy (but tbh who is nowadays? I have two non-gypsy great-great grandfathers). Although Dick’s family history is limited, we know that his great grandfather William Cobb was likely not a gypsy (he could be ethnically, it’s not ruled out, he might have just settled, but let’s go for safety’s sake here and just say he’s not). Similarly, his partner was from a wealthy non-gypsy family, meaning that ethnically, their baby (John Grayson’s father) was likely not a gypsy (though could potentially have been a Diddakoi aka a half-gypsy, if we believe William Cobb to be a settled gypsy). However, since this baby still grew up amongst the circus, it is not impossible that he ended up marrying a gypsy, which would make John Grayson half gypsy - aka a Diddakoi. In fact, I would argue that it is even likely, owing to the fact that Dick speaks Romani, and the fact that Romani is only taught to other members of the family, meaning that somewhere in the Grayson family, a Romani speaker had to be introduced. Mary Grayson (formerly Lloyd), on the other hand, probably was Romani/GRTSB herself. I say this, based mostly on her closeness with the OG Richard aka Raptor from Seeley’s run, who was Romani, and the fact that it is really common in gypsy circles to mostly mix with other gypsies, meaning that it would make sense for the pair to meet based on the fact that they were both gypsies/Romani. Therefore, I would argue that even if Dick is not wholly Romani/gypsy ethnically (but, like I say, who is nowadays?), I think there is enough both blood and culturally to make a pretty good case for him IDing as such, and foregoing the need to make any distinction. (Also, especially nowadays when Diddakois are increasingly more common, it’s not even that prejudiced to be a Diddakoi. A lot of my cousins are and you don’t even think to mention it). Aka. He’s a gypsy. Nuff said.

Then, I suppose, the final thing I’ll address is the ‘whitewashing’ issue, or, what I really think is a non-issue.

Sure, a lot of ethnically Romani people are dark skinned. There is a reason why the term gypsy exists. Now, as my grandad will tell you, gypsies originated from Northern India about 2000 years ago, before moving into Europe. However, a lot can happen in 2000 years. There are a lot of people in the UK, at least, who identify as purely Romani who have very pale skin. My family has a real split: my dad’s side of the family is quite dark, and are often mistaken for being South Asian in the summer due to how dark they get when they tan. Meanwhile, he refers to my mother’s side of the family as being ‘poxy and pasty’. My mother is a full-blooded traveller btw, same as my dad (barring their singular non-gypsy great grandad they each had). You just can’t paint everybody with the same brush. Take me for example: I am pale af and take after my mum’s side of the family, but I’ve still got the stereotypical dark curly hair and blue eyes of gypsies (which my boy also shares). Genetics are weird. So whilst I am a big fan of dark skinned Romani Dick Grayson, it’s also still ok and accurate for him to be paler. This does not make him any less Romani. (Like I say, this is all based on my experiences in the UK).

SOOO… TLDR:

Dick definitely has Romani heritage. This has been canon for decades and cannot be taken away from him.

He canonically self-IDs as a ‘gypsy’ (as well as the Romani heritage), and may also be interpreted as being a Showman (even if this is more of a European term) if you want to see him that way, especially since a lot of Showman families (mine included) can trace their families back past the origin of the fairground to when they simply identified as gypsies or Romani (hence why Dick might ID as a gypsy with Romani heritage. Honestly, this is mostly in the realm of canon-compliant Headcanon now)

The GRTSB classification system is a mess y’all and everyone has a different opinion. Just roll with it and don’t get into the debates is my professional opinion.

Being Romani/a gypsy/a traveller/a Showman is something you are born into. You can’t just become one, or stop being one. So, if we presume that William Cobb had no Romani heritage/was not a settled-down Gypsy, even after he joined Haly’s he did not become one. It really is in your blood, and is tied to family.

Haly’s circus is unusual because it’s mostly not a family affair (though points for the Graysons sticking with it and inheriting their roles - that is realistic!). It’s unclear how many of the members of the circus are Romani.

Dick also has non-traveller heritage due to the William Cobb thing. His grandfather, at least, was probably not ethnically Romani (though he might have been half if we want to view William Cobb as having Romani heritage/being a settled gypsy). However, since Dick canonically has Romani heritage, IDs as a gypsy, and speaks Romani (a language which is closely guarded amongst gypsies), it had to come in somewhere. Honestly, I think we can comfortably view him as being at least 3/4 ethnically Romani/a Gypsy, but also since modern Dick Grayson was not born during prohibition, this really isn’t a problem as it’s really common for Diddakois (half gypsies) to be treated as full gypsies nowadays.

As much as I love darker skinned Dick Grayson, it’s not a requirement. A lot of the GRTSB community (especially in Western Europe/Britain/Ireland) are on the pale side. This does not take away from their identity.

So that’s my rant. It’s like 3.30am so it’s probably a complete mess but hopefully it gets down the basics, at least insofar as it relates to my experiences and understanding as a gypsy from the fairground/a circus family. People will probably have different experiences (especially since I’m in the UK). Although I have based all of this on canon, and as such it should all be canon-compliant to my knowledge (I’ve still not read all the comics!), it is also equally based on my experiences, so you may interpret it completely differently. The beauty of Dick’s character is that he has been built up over 85 years, and as such, we have to do our best to interpret what was laid down in the Golden Age by writers with no idea of what Dick’s character would grow to be. As such, canon really is a bit of a sandbox, and this is my own go at it!

If anyone has any questions/wants clarification/notices any obvious contradictions with canon since I’ve not read them all yet, please feel free to point it out! This is not intended to be a lecture/call out post/dictatorship on how you view canon, just a small exploration of my interpretation of a character whom I relate to as a Romani speaking gypsy from the fairground/circus myself.

[esote-rika]

Could I request Spencer with a really socially awkward reader(gn) who has to meet the team for the first time and just sort ends up hiding behind Spencer?

Feel free to ignore this if you're not up for it :)

Anon, thank you so much for this! I’m sorry it took a little long, but I hope you still enjoy it <3 Cute little drabble of Spencer being the best bf ever.

Contents: Mentions of alcohol, but otherwise, it’s just fluff!!! gn!reader.

Your hands are clammy when he takes them, a clear sign of your discomfort. Immediately, Spencer’s face softens, his features dappled pink and blue from the colorful lights of the bar. Neither of you drink, but his team is celebrating a case they successfully closed, and he’d mentioned it would be a good time to introduce you. The atmosphere is relaxed, after all, inhibitions dulled by alcohol and the knowledge of a job well done. 

For them, at least. You are operating under something entirely different. Nerves. Lots of it.

“You made it.” Spencer says brightly, before he wraps an arm around you and ushers you to their table. His team is all bright, welcoming smiles, and teasing remarks when they see you. You recognize them from the pictures, this group of people he’s come to know as his family. The cheeriest woman, Penelope Garcia walks up and gives you a big hug. Not expecting it, you stand there awkwardly, too busy wondering if you should return the gesture, but by the time you make up your mind, she’s already pulling away. 

Oops. You bite back a wince at your social blunder and manage a smile. 

“Spencer has told me all about you.” You say over the loud, thumping music. 

A chorus of replies. He spends all his time talking about you too, and You two are so cute, and I can’t believe Spence didn’t introduce you to us sooner! Lovely platitudes that you nod at. What exactly do you say to them beyond a thank you? Desperately, you wrack your brain for responses. Be witty, you chide yourself, charming. Make them like you.

But your words fail you in this moment, as they so often do. Small talk seems hollow, perfunctory instead of sincere, so you smile and nod politely as the comments continue around you. The more they go on about how it is to meet you, the more you seem to shrink into Spencer, smiling politely in response. You hope, desperately, that it's enough.

Once the initial round of introductions dies down, Spencer pulls you to a quieter table. The back of your neck is warm from all the attention, and you're worried his team may think you're being too clingy or antisocial. Surprisingly, his team doesn’t comment on it, moving on to get drinks and join the dance floor. Other people may have found it rude to retreat like this, but truthfully, you’re glad for the reprieve. 

Spencer’s hand is warm and heavy on your hip, pulling you tightly to his side. “Are you okay?”

You hum, nodding against his shoulder. “Your team’s nice.” 

“They are,” you feel his lips on your forehead, “But they can be a lot.”

You peak over his shoulder to look at the dance floor. Derek is in the middle of it with a few ladies, while JJ, Emily, and Penelope have their own little dance cluster. “They’re nice.” you repeat, “They just seemed excited.”

He chuckles, “Mhm, that’s because they’ve been wanting to meet you for weeks now.” 

You feel him pull back, and you have to fight back the urge to cling to him. He meets your gaze, brown eyes warm and glittering in the dim light. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not too overwhelmed?”

“I’m fine. I’m glad to have met them.”

He smiles, pleased that his reminders for his team had worked. He’d told them of your tendency to be awkward around new people and had asked them to accommodate it when they meet you. He’s just as nervous and eager for your introduction to be nice, but your comfort is of utmost importance to him. 

For a brief moment, he worried it wouldn’t work, but his team is gracious enough (and so excited over the fact that he has a relationship) that they’ve put on their best behavior and backed off immediately once they caught signs of your discomfort. You’re easy enough to read, and they’re highly trained profilers. 

“They already adore you.” he says, nose buried in your hair. 

You laugh, “You sure? I don’t know if I’ve made the best impression.”

“I’m sure.” his lips ghost across your hairline, “You weren’t even that bad. They’re used to so much worse.”

“Is that so?”

He nods, ducking down to press his lips to yours. “Need I remind you that they have to deal with me?”

Even more laughter escapes you, and you’re immediately put at ease, even more so than before. How could you not, when your boyfriend knows exactly what to say? Perhaps not to other people, but he’s so attuned to you and your needs that you just kiss him back in thanks.

[jade4956]

From Then to Now

Tahlia Bliss stood in front of the camera, the Chelsea crest shining on her chest, her fingers lightly brushing the fabric of the kit she had once worn as a teenager. It felt surreal. The bright lights, the hum of the cameras, the quiet excitement in the air it was all part of her official return to Chelsea.

She adjusted her stance as the photographer gave her instructions, her body moving naturally despite the nerves swirling in her stomach. This wasn’t just another photo shoot. This was a full-circle moment.

“Alright, Tahlia, give us a smile,” the photographer called

She grinned, unable to stop herself. She had waited years for this.

After a few more shots some serious, some playful she was ushered over to a chair in front of the Chelsea media backdrop for her interview. The microphone was clipped to her shirt, and the interviewer smiled at her warmly.

“Tahlia, welcome back to Chelsea. How does it feel to return to the club where it all started?”

Tahlia let out a breath, her emotions catching up to her. “It’s honestly incredible. Chelsea has always been home to me. I joined the academy when I was 12, signed my first professional contract here at 17, and even when I left for UCLA, this club was always in my heart. To be back now, wearing this badge again, it just feels right.”

The interviewer nodded. “You took a different path, going to UCLA after your first professional contract. How do you think those years shaped you?”

Tahlia smiled, thinking back to her time in Los Angeles. “UCLA was a challenge in the best way possible. It pushed me as a player, as a person. I had to grow up fast, adapt to a different style of play, a different lifestyle. But I think that experience made me a more well-rounded player. And I got to play with some incredible teammates, including someone who’s now here at Chelsea.

The interviewer perked up. “Yes, Jessie Fleming! You two played together at UCLA. Have you spoken to her since coming back?”

Tahlia grinned. “Yeah, I messaged her the moment everything was confirmed. She’s been amazing, helping me settle back in. It’s crazy that we started as teammates over in the U.S. and now we’re back together at Chelsea. Feels like things have come full circle.”

The interview wrapped up, and as soon as she stepped away, she spotted Jessie walking toward her with a huge smile.

“Look at you in Chelsea blue again,” Jessie teased, pulling Tahlia into a hug.

“Can you believe it?” Tahlia laughed. “We really went from UCLA to this.”

Jessie smirked. “You always did say you’d find your way back here”

Before Tahlia could respond, a group of players she hadn’t met before and had played with had stopped to watch her interview.

“Wait, is that Tahlia Bliss?” A blonde pretended to whispered, loud enough for Tahlia to hear as well as the camera.

“Yeah I’m pretty sure she face planted on her first goal for Chelsea” another one said pretending to whisper to the group

“Alright thanks for that it’s a new time let’s not focus on my past” Tahlia said getting up and going over to Fran and Millie hugging them

“We missed you” they both said hugging her back

“We had national camp 2 weeks ago” “At Chelsea we missed you at Chelsea” the girls all laughed

Tahlia shook her head with a laugh. “Unreal. I come back after all these years, and that’s still what you lot remember?”

Fran grinned. “Course. It was legendary.”

Before Tahlia could fire back, a voice called from across the room. “Tahlia!”

She turned just in time to see Erin Cuthbert jogging over, arms wide. “I was starting to think you were just a myth!”

Tahlia barely had time to react before Erin pulled her into a tight hug. “Welcome home, mate.”

Something about those words settled deep in her chest. Home. She had spent years chasing growth, experience, something new. But now, standing here in Chelsea blue, surrounded by old friends and new teammates, she realized she had found exactly what she had been looking for.

She smiled, squeezing Erin back. “It’s good to be home.”

—————————————————————————

Yes it’s a short one but I wanted to be able to get into the Chelsea fics quicker and so I wanted to get this out to show her interviews and stuff like that. make sure to request more fics

[unknownogre]

( I got a little inspired from Facebook...and was just able to sit down today to write it. I approached it not exactly from the prompt's direction too but that is the scene that popped in my head.)

“Well…I have to ask, am I dead?”

Moments ago I was just sitting at my desk sipping a cup of coffee playing a lovely game of slaughter the Nazi when I found myself suddenly not there. Still had my coffee in had though, Deadpool pajama pants for the whole damn world to see no shoes and, I’m sorry to those that had to see me, no shirt. Someone was standing in front of me too, lithe build with a very baggy hoodie and baggy pants on wearing some kind of sneaker and a face that was obscured by shadows that were impossibly dark for the time of day and location.

“No, finish your coffee and let’s go.”

Fuck…people were walking around us like they didn’t notice me or them. The voice of the person was androgynous and a touch echoey. I knew one thing in this moment, without introduction and without me even having to ask the question, in my bones I knew this was Death. THE Death the primordial force that will exist until the end of the universe.  So weird, I wonder if they developed that power just to make it easier.

“Alright, fuck it. Not like I have a choice do I…?”

I already hate this. I’ve got body issues, most fat guys do no matter the praise they get. Fuck, I hope I don’t have to fight anything. I have no idea how I’ll do. I don’t fight, no one wants to fight me so I’ve never had to.

“No you don’t have to fight. Maybe, I’m not sure. People handle the situation differently. I’m just Death, I don’t know the future or the past. Think there is a time you’re supposed to die? Absolutely not. Chaos my friend. Complete Chaos.”

That…honestly that made me feel a lot better about a lot of things. Though to delve into that right now would completely pull my focus away from whatever this is.

“Why me?”

I had to ask as we walked another block. If Death was powerful enough to just pull me out of my living room I figured we could at least get closer, though…my feet don’t hurt even though they are bare so that is good at least.

“In a two-thousand-mile radius of my current problem your soul was the only one that matched what I needed…what ever that is. I don’t know have exact details. I just know when I problem arises and I need help I concentrate and the one who is best able to help just appears to me like a blip on a radar.”

Well…it is nice to be needed right. I mean I doubt that is the case, I’m not that special. I’m just me. I took another sip of my coffee.

“What do I get out of this?”

I don’t work for free. I’m completely convinced when given any modicum of power I’d go full on super villain. I know at my core I’m evil, just the kind of evil that still wants to protect those that love and cherish. Touch my wife and I’ll burn the whole damn world down, same for my kid. So again, I wonder why I was the blip.

“A favor.”

That was all Death needed to say. I get a favor from Death, I mean I bet there are rules and what not attached to it, but who wouldn’t want a favor from Death. That was enough for me.

“And lunch. A favor and lunch and you have yourself a deal.”

Death stopped and turned around to look at me, I could feel the weight of their gaze too but I just stood there and stared at where I thought their eyes would be crossing my arms across my chest with a smirk…Never take fully what is offered. Ask for just a little more.

“You got it. Cause I know what you want…hell I want it too. A favor and lunch.”

That was good enough for me. Almost made me forget I was shirtless and barefoot in a large city. We approached a hospital and headed right in. We passed the nurses station, and I was able to grab a scrub top much to their confusion. I felt better with a shirt on at least. We went up to the morgue…and there…holy crap.

It was some kind of creature, twisted with pitch flesh and blood ooze from various places, like self-inflicted wounds. It was just roaring and trying to smash through things it couldn’t fully interact with. There were some forms in the corner cowering in fear…ghosts? I don’t have time to question everything.

“Calm them down.”

…wait…what?!..

It was just a roaring beast that was at least six feet tall. I think it was meant to be bi-pedal but it was only that way sometimes. Like how some movies show werewolves, like they can walk a few steps until they want to run and then it is down on all fours.

“Well…fuck. Okay. Hey.”

I started waving slightly. The creature made a swipe for me but It was slow I was able to step back to avoid it. The ‘mission’ was to calm them down. Calm, not hurt, not subdue but calm.

“HEY!”

I said again, but this time with the power of dad voice. I didn’t like using it much, unless we were outside and my kid was about to run into a parking lot or something just as dangerous. I have NO information to go off of. Death wasn’t a planner were they? The creature’s attention was fully on me now. Good, that is what I needed…not what I wanted though. I knew I wasn’t dead now because my heart was hammering in my chest.

“Knock it the fuck off okay. You are scaring the shit out of these other people. What the hell is going on anyway? I’m sure being dead sucks but this…this can’t be good for you, can it?”

The creature seemed to understand my words if only for a moment before it roared at me. Its mouth…chilling. Elongated like a wolf but the teeth…they were human. I could make money on this if I could get into practical effects and recreate the look.

What to do. I had to use a chair to keep it back and out of swiping range. I don’t think I can actually die here…but maybe no risk no reward.

“This can’t kill you, but if it manages to hurt you too bad I am SOL and will have to destroy it completely. I don’t want to do that so I brought you.”

So it was a soul, something twisted and probably not evil. Otherwise there would be no sympathy. I need more compassion. The  creatures attention was still on me and all those cowering in the corner were watching with rapt attention. There is a lot of rage here, so much anger, and where there is anger there is sadness. Okay…okay…got it.

“Hey, we are just gonna talk alright. I won’t yell anymore. Just calm, just calm and cool. Listen I can’t help you right now. Not with all this rage and aggression. Trust me. I want to help you. I get nothing out of the situation if you are harmed. What happened? Why are you so angry?”

It took another swipe at me. Fuck…this thing is strong, almost knocked the chair out of my hands. It was hurt, even it was just by itself. When I met its gaze I could see such sadness. Rage and sadness. I got you.

“Hey. Listen, I am here for you, okay? I am here for you. Not Death, not these people in the corner, you and just you. Fuck any reward…fuck anything else okay. Just me and you here. I am your friend. No one touches you unless they step over my literal dead body, which isn’t even HERE so they are screwed trying to find it. You don’t deserve this, what ever this is. So talk to me. Let me help you, that is all I want right now.”

That caused the creature to pause and look at me. Tears welling up in its eyes. I see why I was called. Most people wouldn’t look in its eyes, they couldn’t see the pain there. They’d see the twisted muscle, the claws…they’d be hostile. Monsters were fantasy for me until I was brought here.

“I…they…momma…MOMMA!”

It cried and looked around panicked. This is a child. THIS IS A CHILD! Thank gods I didn’t hit it, and now I know why the dad voice caused it to pause. I wonder if these souls were trying to help before or where they just trying to leave after they died? Hard to say.

“Hey kid…calm down. Shhhh I got you okay. You want to see your Mom once more. We got you okay. Did they take you and here away at the same time?”

The kid seemed calmer now, just tears streaming from its eyes. They nodded and seemed to wrap their twisted arms around themselves, rocking a little bit. Certainly a kid. I sighed for a moment.

“Would you like a hug? I can give you a hug if you’d allow. Sometimes its nice to just get grounded. I’m a dad, so I can only imagine how it is being separated from your mom. I give the best hugs too, I’m like a teddy bear.”

That is why my daughter said when she was younger anyway. Daddy bear hugs. The child looked to me hesitantly and then nodded slowly. I got up from the chair and I moved slowly. I had no weapons, I’m a big dude but people say they aren’t scared of me. I like to think I’m not scary normally anyway. When I got close enough I just wrapped my arms around them. Sure some of their spikes went into my skin, hurt like a bitch too, the blood smelled terrible as well…still though. Sometimes a hug is what the doctor called for. The kid just started to cry. Its massive head put on my shoulder and nestled into the crook of my neck like my daughter did plenty of times when she was little. I felt they shift, the sound of…gods I don’t know, snapping bone and such was heard all around. I just closed my eyes and held the kid for as long as they squeezed me back.

Soon, I was holding a five year old boy who was finally calming down from all the crying. The holes from the wounds and claws were still there on my body but he looked alright. Oddly I wasn’t bleeding…wonder if that was Death’s doing? Or do I not bleed if I’m not solid? Too many questions I’ll leave for another day.

“Can you take us to his mom?”

Death just nodded as I held the kid in my arms. We left the morgue and went to a hospital room where the kids mother was. She was alive, but badly hurt. Apparently there was a car accident, they got hit by a drunk driver. The kid was dead just after arriving. Freaked out when he couldn’t find his mom. I held him for a while.

“Momma will be okay?”

He asked me and I looked to Death who nodded with a touch of a shrug. I know, chaos on all that stuff, suddenly I was a little less reassured.

“She’ll be okay little one. Best thing you can do is let Death take you to the next world, be as happy as you can. Your mom will cross over eventually, and then you two can play. Just be happy and play as much as you can in the meantime okay?”

The little boy nodded and I set him down, he walked to his mom and gave her a kiss on the cheek before turning to go hold hands with Death. Sudden I was back in front of my desk…wearing the scrubs top my coffee cup filled to my liking.

“Get dressed. Lunch is gonna be in an hour.”

I heard Death’s voice in my mind. I could only grinned. I was about to get my favorite sandwich on the planet, that alone was worth it. Still, I would have done it for free if there was nothing Death could give me. That kid needed the guidance. I wonder how many have crossed over and looked to reunite with someone but couldn’t due to held back rage and depression. That…that breaks my heart.

“Also thank you. You were certainly the best pick.”

I smiled at that, again…feeling useful was nice. Well time to get dressed, I wonder how Death will get me half-way across the country to that sandwich place? I don’t care…number 15 here I come.

[egcdeath]

just what the doctor ordered - chapter 2

pairing: harvey (sdv) x reader

summary: as a successful lawyer in the city, you’re almost certain that nothing can throw you for a loop. that is, until a visit to your sister’s farm brings you to the small town’s doctor. 

chapter summary: you have your first feast of the winter star in the valley. it’s not at all what you expect it to be.

words: 8.9k

warnings: IDIOTS to lovers, slow burn, yearning, fluff, lots of nerves, your sister is kinda an annoying younger sibling, mentions of drinking/being drunk, no use of y/n, harvey AND you are bad at feelings, trivia night, almost a ‘there was only one bed’ moment, lots of love life meddling, cursing, feast of the winter star celebrations

author’s note: i hope you enjoy the Grade A yearning in this chapter!

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You weren’t sure what exactly you expected when you decided to visit your sister in Stardew Valley for the holiday, but it certainly wasn’t this. In fact, if you’d known that you would be dragging your suitcase and feet through inches of snow just to attempt to get from the train station to her farmhouse, you probably would’ve just stayed home. 

“For fuck’s sake,” you huffed as the two of you approached a vacant-looking spa. You’d barely made it twenty paces away from the train station and your luggage was already soaked and getting more and more difficult to push with every step you took. “Does no one in this place drive a car? Do you have a tractor? A bike? A scooter? I mean, I’ll literally take anything at this point.”

“Okay, Ms. Walkable Cities. This community is walkable. I thought you liked that!”

“I like them when there isn’t snow up to my shins to walk through! Trust me when I say that this,” you gestured to the snow around you, “is not walkable.”

“Fine,” she was clearly fed up with your complaining, but who wouldn’t be? “The mayor has a truck and he owes me a favor. I’ll just ask him to pick us up.”

You shivered as she dialed, hugging your thick coat to yourself and hoping that whoever came to pick you up did so swiftly. That, or death from hypothermia would take you out quickly. Whichever came more expeditiously and relieved you from the neverending suffering that was bitter cold.

“Hey Lewis. I just need a quick favor… No, you definitely owe me one. Remember the-... Yeah, any way I could borrow the truck?… Oh. Oh… Wait, who has it?…. Oh! Well, thanks for letting me know,” your sister hung up on him but remained on her phone, seemingly dialing another number with a newfound smile on her face. 

You weren’t so sure what she was so pleased about. “So he’s not coming? Are you getting us an Uber, or something? Do they have those out here?” you were growing impatient with your situation and would do just about anything to be somewhere with heat and without snow on the ground. 

“Please. Shh,” she hushed you before lifting her phone to her ear once more. You were unsatisfied with this non-answer. 

“Hey! I heard you have Lewis’ truck right now. Any way that you could help me out and give me a ride back to the farm? I think standing out in the cold is giving me a cold…” she forced a cough before continuing. “Ugh, amazing. You’re the best. I’m by the train station, over by the spa… Okay, five minutes. Sounds good. Thanks!”

Your sister looked oddly smug as she put her phone back into her pocket. “Now you owe me one too.”

“Can we just say that I’ve repaid my debt in taking the fall for the billions of broken vases in our childhood? Or all the bottles I donated to your underage wine nights?”

“Fine,” she conceded, clearly more fed up with your incessant complaining than anything else.

“Who’s picking us up?” you asked, as if you really knew anyone in the first place. 

“Oh, you don’t know him.”

You sighed and shook your head. As if the cold temperature and the sensory nightmare of wet pants from the snow weren’t enough, now your sister was cryptically answering your questions. “Okay.”

When the truck pulled up, you were shocked to find none other than Dr. Harvey himself manning the vehicle. So much for not knowing who the driver was. So much for not meddling in each other’s love lives. Although, you supposed that this was accidental. Somehow, you just knew that you would be hearing the word ‘fate’ all weekend. 

Before you could even approach the backseat, your sister took it upon herself to launch herself into the back of the truck, giving you no other option but to sit beside Harvey in the front. 

You took your time throwing your luggage in the bed of the trunk, doing your best to mentally hype yourself up for the encounter. You’d stared down hundreds of men far more intimidating than Harvey in settings far more nerve wracking than the passenger seat of a car. Logically, you knew there was nothing to be concerned about, but in practice, you couldn’t help but feel a massive pit in your stomach. Why was it so debilitating for you to have a little crush? You barely even knew the guy. 

Hesitantly, you opened the door to the vehicle and did your best to avoid eye contact as you sat down in the seat next to the man. You scolded yourself internally for acting so out of character already. “Thanks for picking us up.”

There. That was neutral enough and inoffensive enough that it didn’t give any indication that your heart was currently beating like a hummingbird’s after eight shots of espresso. Not that you should be feeling that way anyway, when your only interaction with him was of him doing his job. Distantly, you wondered how many of his clients had developed crushes on him after a particularly emotionally-loaded physical or minor injury. You tried not to get too carried away, but you couldn’t help but imagine someone waiting for him back in the Valley bringing him a flirty cup of coffee in the morning and batting their lashes incessantly waiting for him to notice their beauty. 

“No problem at all. I had no idea you were coming to town,” He seemed genuinely excited to see you, your imaginary townsperson with long, luscious lashes and great coffee taste be damned. It wasn’t lost on you that he skipped right past your smug sibling in the backseat to talk with you. “How’s the hand?”

“Fully recovered,” you lifted your hand to illustrate your words. You wondered if he noticed your freshly manicured nails as he briefly glanced at your hands, before fixing his eyes on the windshield once more. Man, was he focused on getting you two home safely. There was something so attractive about a responsible driver. You scolded yourself once more on how easy it was for you to swoon over ridiculous things when you had a crush. 

“That’s what I like to hear. What brings you to town?” Despite the fact that his vision was trained ahead of you, you were sure that he would feel your eyes watching him if you admired his side profile a bit too hard, so you decided to force your gaze away—turning to watch the slowly moving scenery and attempting to calm your climbing nerves. 

“Oh, just visiting to celebrate the holiday. We usually spend it at my place, but I thought it might be fun to switch it up this year. The Winter Star festivities in the city can get a little repetitive.”

“Really? I’ve always wanted to visit the Zuzu Holiday Market. It seems like a lot of fun,” Harvey responded.

“It is fun, don’t get me wrong, but there are only so many times that you can drink extra chocolatey hot chocolate and go ice skating ‘til your sister vomits in a bush before you get bored,” you laughed as you recalled the event, though you were mortified at the time.

“Are you serious? That was one time! And I had food poisoning!” your sibling finally spoke up. 

You did little to hide your amusement. Since she got you into this predicament in the first place, the least you could do was embarrass her a little bit too. 

“Anyway, you’re free to stay with me if you’d ever like to go,” you paused, wondering if your words were too suggestive or overly friendly for someone you’d only met once. “I also know a few good hotels nearby, so…”

It wasn’t the best save, but it was certainly better than nothing. 

“That’s so kind of you to offer! I don’t know if I’ll be going any time soon, but I appreciate it.” You cringed internally as he spoke, knowing you shouldn’t have been so overzealous. You reminded yourself that you had only met once before this point, and it was in a fully professional capacity, but in the corner of your eye, you caught Harvey looking at you for a split second and… was he blushing?

Though you’d only made it to square one-and-a-quarter, with one little glance, you were suddenly back at square one, butterflies dancing in your stomach and heat crawling up your neck.

“Well, it’s the least I can do after you fixed my hand,” you laughed awkwardly, once again rendered useless by your feelings. The two of you sat in silence for a moment as both of you attempted to gather yourselves and you began to fantasize about melting into the passenger seat of the truck. Somehow, the goopy puddle of yourself would be less embarrassing than you now.

“Anyway, we’re going to trivia tonight,” your sister interjected, clearly fed up with getting second hand embarrassment from you. “Are you coming too?”

“I was kinda on the fence. I need to do a few things to prepare for flu season and-” Harvey began to explain before being abruptly cut off.

“Oh, come on, Harvo. The town isn’t gonna collapse if you take one night off. Besides, it’s a tradition to do Winter Star Eve trivia! We missed you last year. Although, Maru and I still kicked ass.”

Harvey looked to your sister in the rearview mirror, then to you, then back at the road. “Alright, I’ll come. But only because I need to see if you and Maru are who you claim to be.”

“I knew you had it in you. Cold and flu season can wait,” she seemed oddly satisfied with herself in the same way she seemed a little proud of herself after she got off the phone with Harvey. You couldn’t help but feel like the woman had something up her sleeve.

You somehow made it through the rest of the short drive without embarrassing yourself too badly, though you might’ve been slightly too enthusiastic as you thanked Harvey for the ride and bid him farewell. As if you hadn’t had enough humiliation for one lifetime in the span of ten minutes, your sister felt no need to give you any sort of break.

“That was an accident, by the way. But… Harvey’s been asking me about you,” your sister wasted no time addressing the elephant in the room as the two of you dragged your luggage up to where you’d be staying. Part of you wanted to whack her with your suitcase. The other part of you wanted to ask for more information–to hear every single detail about what he said and how he said it. Did he blush as he asked? Did he look really interested? Did he say anything about wanting to see you again?

None of those questions made it past your lips. “Shut up,” was all you could respond with as your cheeks heated up enough to melt the snowy ground outside.

“I’m serious! Whenever I stop by the clinic he asks me what you’re up to, how your health is, how you’re healing from your injury,” she went on as she walked you to your room. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s just small talk,” you dismissed as you sat down on the foot of the bed which had been neatly made in anticipation of your arrival. Deep down, you hoped that him asking about you meant something. Realistically, you knew he was just being a considerate friend.

“Eh, you should hear the way he says it. Like you hung the moon and he’s asking for updates on the moon,” she lingered in the doorway, watching you collapse flat on your back.

“That doesn’t even make sense,” you spoke up to the ceiling. It almost felt like if she saw your face, she might be able to read your mind. Not like that would make much difference anyway, as she already saw straight through you and your little crush on the doctor. 

“Whatever,” she somehow made the one word sound like the most exasperated expression ever uttered. You almost wanted to tell her that she sounded like your mother. “The point is, he liked you a lot too. One might even argue that you’re always on his mind.”

“Who said I liked him a lot?” you could feel her skeptical look without even seeing it. 

“Whatever,” she repeated, this time sounding even more fed up. “He liked you a lot, even if it’s completely unreciprocated. We personally think that you two would be cute together.”

“You got that from one interaction you watched? And who is this we?” you asked, though you already had a pretty good idea of who was making up this other mythical person. 

“That’s my cue to leave,” she sidestepped into the hallway. “Be ready to go by seven. And don’t fight fate!” she sing-songed as she disappeared further into the house.

You sighed hard enough to shake the foundations of the building you were in. 

The two of you made it to the saloon early enough to get a booth, your sister looking at the door every few minutes as she very obviously waited for your guests to arrive. She asked you a few questions about how your life was going, but her heart clearly wasn’t really in it. Finally, Maru walked through the door and it was like a switch flicked in her. She was filled with enthusiasm as she waved the other woman down, a toothy grin plastered on her face. The enthusiasm seemed very mutual, as Maru couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off her face as she excitedly talked to your sister about the techy project she was working on. 

Though you didn’t particularly mind observing your sibling act like a lovesick puppy, you didn’t have to third wheel for too long, as shortly after Maru sat down, Harvey joined you at the table. As if you were playing Whac-A-Mole, his arrival prompted your sister to get up, announce she was going to get everyone drinks, and leave. She couldn’t have picked a worse time to leave, as the only thing keeping you feeling somewhat normal in Harvey’s presence was the comfort blanket of other people.

You watched as she talked to the bartender for a particularly long stretch of time, before returning to your booth looking like the cat who caught the cream. For the second time that day, you were struck with the feeling that she had meddled somewhere she knew she shouldn’t have.

“Everything okay?” you asked though you were almost scared to know what she had up her sleeve. 

“Mhm. I’ve just never seen someone so proud to ask for wine at a tavern,” she replied as she distributed your drinks, shamelessly taking a dig at Harvey. Neither Harvey nor Maru seemed particularly phased by the words. If anything, it looked like Maru was holding back a giggle. 

“Is it not your wine?” Harvey asked once she passed him he received his glass. 

“It is. That doesn’t make it any less uncouth,” she replied.

“Just be happy he’s supporting your small, local business,” you chimed in before taking a sip of your own drink. It was much stronger than you expected. Something told you that for the evening you were about to have, you might need that.

Before you could give your sister more shit, the man behind the bar began to make an announcement. 

“Thank you all for coming out tonight. At the request of some of our guests, we’ll only be doing duos trivia tonight. We’ll get started in a bit,” his voice was loud and easily reverberated through the bar, only to be met with a few murmurs and groans from the townspeople at the thought of splitting up their carefully curated team. 

Surely, this was not what your sister was scheming with the bartender to do. After all, she included the idea of doing trivia together as one of the many benefits of spending your Winter Star celebration in Stardew Valley. You looked at the woman in question, who was pointedly making an effort not to look back at you. You’d seen enough guilty people in your lifetime to know when you were looking at one–and you most certainly were. 

“Team sisters vs. team doctors?” you suggested, partially to confirm your suspicions, partially to see if you could get out of an evening of embarrassment with Harvey. As you should’ve anticipated, your sister immediately shot the offer down.

“No, I think Maru and I are gonna work together. Right?” she continued to avoid eye contact with both you and Harvey, deciding to look at her partner in crime instead.

“That works with me,” the two of them shared a knowing stare. You couldn’t help but feel like you were being left out of some sort of inside joke. You glanced at Harvey to see if he was in on it too, but he looked just as deer-in-headlights as you were sure you did. 

“Bye, old-timers,” your sister bade you farewell as she and Maru quickly got out of the booth and easily found somewhere new to sit. 

“Old timers?” Harvey sputtered. “Thirties is not old!”

You laughed at his indignance. At the very least, your laughter helped to keep some of the nerves that were quickly creeping in at bay.  “You see what I have to put up with? She’s been like this forever.”

“I can only imagine what you two put your parents through,” Harvey laughed right along with you. You wondered if he was feeling even a fraction of the nerves that you currently were. 

“To this day, our family dinners are always a little intense,” you replied, trying to ignore the vision that arose of Harvey being at one of those very family dinners. Would he argue like the rest of you? Or would he sit quietly, only entering the conversation when someone said something particularly shady towards you? Something told you he would do more of the latter than the former. Not that he would ever end up with your family in the first place.

The two of you wordlessly sipped your drinks, the silence awkward and almost unbearable. After a series of awkward, chemistry-less dates, you’d forgotten how socially clumsy having a crush made you feel. Usually, small talk came easy to you—in fact, you could probably speak uninterrupted for a whole hour if given the chance, but when it came to socializing with the man in front of you, you struggled. 

“So, you already know why I’m here, but what brought you here?” you finally spoke up, opting to look down at your drink rather than at the man across the table from you. If only your boss could see you now–you were sure you’d be fired in a heartbeat. But you didn’t want to be a hotshot attorney around Harvey, you just wanted to be… you. And if that meant you were an awkward pool of nerves around him, then so be it. 

“I mean, you were there. Your sister invited me,” he looked slightly confused by your question. 

“No, I mean,” you laughed, feeling even more of the tension in your body melt away with the action. “What brought you to the valley?”

“Oh,” the man in front of you looked more like a tomato than a human. At least you had some confirmation that you weren’t the only one feeling incredibly awkward. “Sorry. I tried out the city for a bit, went to school there, did my residency there, but it was… a lot. I wanted to settle somewhere a little more quiet, so…”

“So you picked the most quiet place possible?” you finished his sentence for him. 

“Well, yeah. I guess I did. It wasn’t fully on purpose, but I saw a job posting that said the previous owner was set to retire, and the timing just worked out well. I finished up my residency, came here and shadowed her for a few months, and the rest is history.”

“But you like it here?” you asked, finally making eye contact with the man—which proved to be a mistake, as the butterflies in your stomach took that as their cue to take flight. 

“I do. I feel like I get to know my patients a lot better than if I were a doctor elsewhere. Although, it feels like most people here view me as only the doctor and nothing else. I’m sure it’s similar for you, being an attorney.”

“I can’t exactly say I relate. A lot of our clients are corporations, and despite what the government might say, they are very much not people. But it definitely comes with its own set of issues. There’s a level of anonymity you get being in the city. I’m sure you remember. It’s oddly… lonely? Sometimes. I almost wonder if I’d feel it less if I lived somewhere like this.”

“Would you?” he paused to take a sip of his drink. As he lifted it up to his mouth, you noticed the slight shake of his hands. If you weren’t sure before that he was nervous, you were absolutely certain now. That had to be a good sign, right? Unless he was anxious about being left alone with someone like you, who obviously had a crush on him and was doing a terrible job at concealing it. The thought of making Harvey uncomfortable immediately made you nauseous. 

“Hmm?” you were so lost in your thoughts that you could barely process his words.

“Would you ever live in a place like this?” he clarified.

You glanced around the buzzing bar, watching friends double over with laughter as they talked, and patrons who were surely regulars giving the bartenders a hard time. There was no doubt that the Valley was charming, with its picturesque landscape and interesting inhabitants. You thought about your sister, who easily made a life for herself there in only a matter of years, then yourself, who spent what felt like a lifetime making the version of your life that you always thought you wanted. You felt a lump grow in your throat. 

“I don’t know. I think I’d get bored. It doesn’t really seem like anyone here needs legal assistance, so I don’t know what I’d be doing all day other than twirling my thumbs and bothering my sister.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” on his face, you read what almost looked like disappointment. Maybe you were just projecting onto him, but more than anything, it seemed like he just needed a friend. It had to be difficult to only be seen as just your career, not as a whole person. Maybe that was why he’d taken such a liking to you right off the bat, if your sister’s words had any credence. 

“I guess I could follow her footsteps and be a farmer. But I’d really be no good at it. I mean, you saw how that worked out for me,” you openly referenced your accident with the jar.

Your conversation was interrupted by a blue-haired woman dropping off a white board and marker at your table. 

“Good luck!” she said enthusiastically, her gaze lingering on you for an extra moment. You guessed you shouldn’t be so shocked that the town was intrigued by outsiders when they probably had very few visitors. 

At any rate, you were slightly thankful that her interruption gave you an opportunity to take the conversation in a different direction. You didn’t exactly want to dump all of your problems on Harvey during your first non-work related outing. 

“Are you any good at trivia?” you asked once you finished off your drink. 

“I’m alright,” he shrugged. “I enjoy reading and learning in general, so I’d like to think that I know some stuff.”

“Good, because I’m absolutely useless,” you flashed him a smile, working some of that courtroom charm. Internally, you reprimanded yourself for not being yourself, but it was sometimes easier to put on a mask of confidence, than to be your boring, true self.

“I doubt that,” he reassured you. You tried to ignore the way that he consistently spoke so highly of you made you feel. You weren’t sure why or how someone who knew you so little was so willing to compliment you.

“Oh trust me, you’ll see.”

The first few questions weren’t too bad, with most groups having the correct answer on their shared white board. With Harvey as your scribe—his penmanship surprisingly legible for a doctor—the two of you quickly made your way up the leaderboard. 

Though you both knew a good share of the answers, there was something about the way Harvey looked at you after you answered a particularly difficult question that left the rest of the room stumped. In fact, he looked at you like there wasn’t a single other soul in the room. It both excited and terrified you. While you couldn’t pinpoint the exact way it made you feel, the one thing that you were sure about was wanting to climb over the table and kiss him until your lips went numb. But maybe that was just the two extra glasses of wine speaking–although you weren’t totally sure it was.

As the game came to a close, your score was tied with two other groups. It was just your luck that the final question was one about an obscure television program that just happened to be one of your favorites growing up. You leaned across the table to whisper the answer in Harvey’s ear, paranoid that another group might overhear, but finding yourself feeling mildly intoxicated by your proximity to him. You barely kept your composure enough to not let on to the burning feeling deep inside of you. 

You watched nervously as Harvey lifted the whiteboard with your answer, and somehow, you two managed to be the only team to get it right. The man behind the bar announced the two of you as the winners, leading you to cheer amongst the collective groan in the tavern. 

“How did you know that?” he asked in awe, green eyes practically sparkling at you. You recalled what your sister said about him earlier, and how he spoke about you like you hung the moon. Right now, he was looking at you as if you’d done just that. 

“I don’t know, I just did,” you shrugged and laughed, doing your best to push down the butterflies that were aggressively flapping their wings in your stomach. 

“I can’t believe you tried to tell me you’re bad at this! You’re amazing! Is there anything you can’t do?” he began to gush, and you couldn’t lie, the way he was speaking about you was definitely doing something for you. 

“Oh please. You should see me attempt anything that requires any sort of hand-eye coordination,” you dismissed, though you were quite pleased with his praise. 

“I don’t believe you,” he laughed, clearly feeling more loose from the few glasses of wine you shared. “I don’t believe you at all. You’re just trying to be humble. I mean, smart, beautiful, charismatic... What don’t you have? No wonder you would wanna understate your talents.”

Did he just call you beautiful?

The two of you seemed to have this realization at the same time, both of your brows shooting up in surprise as the tomato made a return for what must’ve been the third time that night. 

“I’m sorry, I-“

Your lips were loose with alcohol, which became abundantly clear as you spoke. “Nothing to be sorry about. You’re not too hard on the eyes either. In fact, when we were in the clinic and my heart was racing, it was because-”

“Hey!” your sister announced her presence with her booming voice. From the one word and the way she was leaning on Maru, you could tell that the two of them certainly had more to drink than you and Harvey. “I declare foul play. I wanna rematch.”

“I don’t think you’re in any state for a rematch,” you commented as you took in her slightly disheveled appearance. 

“Whatever, cheaters,” you giggled at the vitriol in her voice. “Oh please. This is not a laughing matter.”

“I think that means it’s time to go home?” you suggested. 

Your sister sat down next to you in the booth. “It means the opposite, actually. The night’s just beginning!”

“Speak for yourself, I’m going home,” Maru yawned and stretched her arms to portray just how tired she was.

“Let me walk you home,” Harvey offered, ever the kind-hearted man. In a split second, you wrote a narrative in your head that he wanted to stay and talk to you until the sun came up, but prioritized the safety of his friend and co-worker. You couldn’t think of one person you’d seen in the past three years who would do the same. As quickly as the thought came up, you reminded yourself that you and Harvey were not seeing each other. In fact, you were basically still strangers. Strangers who complimented each other’s appearance after winning the town’s trivia night.

Moments after the two of them left, you suggested to your sister that the two of you follow suit. It seemed like most people were on their way out, and you didn’t want to draw any more attention to yourself by being labeled: The Sister from the City Who Stays Out Way Too Long.

Luckily, your sister was on the same page for the most part, before she had a sudden realization, “Wait, I need to walk Maru home first.”

“Harvey’s walking her back already,” you reminded her, but that did little to stop her from shooting up from the booth and heading right out of the tavern. You quietly cursed to yourself as you grabbed your belongings and ran after your sister.

Much to your chagrin, when you stepped outside, you discovered your sister chasing after a set of footsteps imprinted in freshly fallen snow. You sighed and followed her briskly, not pleased by the snow landing on your skin and the flashbacks of trying to collect your high schooler sibling after she called you begging to stay the night at your apartment, claiming that your parents would kill her if they found out she snuck out.

After even more cursing under your breath, you finally caught up with your sister, who was absolutely delighted to now be walking with her friends. 

“Oh Maru, I thought you were gone for good,” she blubbered as she hugged her tightly. “Never do that to me again.”

What she was requesting she never do again, you weren’t quite sure. 

“Never again,” she promised, embracing your sister securely. It was surprisingly earnest, despite the fact that you had absolutely no idea what the two of them were on about.

You looked at Harvey, whose foggy glasses prevented you from fully reading his expression. You would have to ask him about this later. 

After all of the theatrics, Maru made it home safely, with the two women embracing once more on her doorstep. Now, you’d had your fair share of drunken, overenthusiastic platonic affection, and from your reading of the situation, this was nothing of the sort. You looked to Harvey again to see if he was seeing this too, and he looked almost as puzzled as you. 

The two finally broke apart once Maru announced that she was cold and going inside, leaving you to trek all the way back to your farm. That, you were not all that excited about. 

“Now that she mentioned it, I’m cold too,” your sister stated. It seemed like the alcohol coat only lasted so long before the fact that she left her actual coat in the saloon caught up to her. While in any other situation you would’ve grabbed it for her, you were far more focused on actually catching your sibling on the run than checking what she did or didn’t leave behind. Besides, it was a small town. Surely, the owner of the tavern would have it safely inside for her. He might even throw it in the washer and dryer for her, leaving it folded and clean for when she picked it up.

“I’m honestly surprised that you lasted this long without it,” you chuckled as you slipped your coat off your own shoulders and onto hers, hoping that your hefty sweater would be sufficient enough to keep you warm on your way back home. You only made it a few steps in the direction you were going before you realized that would unfortunately not be the case.

Your sister spoke up yet again, somehow even more chatty drunk than she was sober. “Can we just stay in the clinic? It’s so much closer. And there are beds,” she seemed to be asking you more than she was asking Harvey, which confused you a little bit—but you simply added that to the long list of things that left you slightly confused that night. 

You didn’t dwell on it for too long, as it turned out that you were absolutely freezing without a coat. In fact, your teeth were beginning to chatter. Luckily for you, the game of Musical Coats continued when the doctor standing next to you offered his own coat to you. 

You didn’t even have to say a word and he noticed.

You looked over at Harvey as if to say, “Seriously?” and he smiled and nodded back to you. You tried your best not to swoon too hard, though every interaction with him was making that more and more of an uphill battle. You attempted to write it off as a considerate doctor looking out for someone who might get sick from the cold, but deep down, you knew that wasn’t the case.

“That’s fine with me. The clinic’s not too far from us,” he explained to you as you snuggled into his blue overcoat. It was still quite warm from his body heat and smelled exactly like the cologne you’d gotten a whiff of during your exam. You wanted no more than to drown in the masculine scent. 

It didn’t take too much more trudging to get to his place, and after Harvey unlocked the door to the clinic, your sister wasted no time disappearing into an exam room and making herself right at home on a cot. 

“Thanks for letting us stay the night. I had no clue she was just gonna invite us to your place like this,” you attempted to apologize. As you looked up at Harvey, the difference in your heights caught you a bit off guard. You would have to store that information in your mind for a later date. 

“It’s not a problem at all. I told you, you’re welcome any time here. The beds are just around the corner to your right, if you’d like to lay down too,” he explained as he turned the lights to the clinic on. 

“You know, I’m not all that tired,” you weren’t exactly sure what you were doing, other than trying to extend your time with Harvey. You were emboldened by the evening you’d had, feeling far less unsure about the feelings of the man in front of you than you did just a few hours ago. 

“Oh? I can walk you to the farm, if you want,” he offered, looking at you very sweetly.

He was so kind and so clueless. You were pretty sure that you’d let him do whatever he wanted to you—but you were getting way ahead of yourself there. 

“No, you’ve already done more than enough for us tonight,” you glanced at the coat you were still donning as if to remind him of his sweet gesture. You did your best to allow him to take control of the situation, not wanting to impede further on him than you already had. 

“Hmm. Could I interest you in a cup of coffee? It’s decaf, but-“

“Absolutely,” you wasted no time answering.

That was how you ended up in Harvey’s apartment, nosily looking through the decor in the room as you attempted to put the pieces together of who he really was when he wasn’t working with patients.

“What’s this?” you asked as you bent over the display, careful not to touch anything and possibly mess something up.

“Oh, um… these are some model planes I built… do you like them?” he asked, the nerves in his voice not at all lost on you. 

“These are cool as hell,” you affirmed, sitting down at the desk and leaning over so you could get a closer look. You pointed at a contraption with a pair of bulky headphones attached to it. “What’s this?”

“Oh, it’s kinda like a radio, but for flights. You can talk to pilots through it,” Harvey explained, using the hand not occupied by mugs of coffee to pull over a chair. 

“Can I try it?” you asked, unsure of what possessed you to do so. 

“I can’t guarantee we’ll make contact with anyone, but of course.”

He gently sat the headphones on your head, careful not to mess with your hair, and began to fidget with the radio until static stopped coming through the device. 

“Are you sure your true calling in life wasn’t to be a pilot?” you asked jokingly, gazing at him with as much adoration as he gave you at the saloon. He was simply too cute with his hobby he knew so much about and his inebriating proximity to you. 

“It kinda was, before I realized that the world isn’t always supposed to be blurry and that I have a crippling fear of heights,” he responded, still focused on the device in front of him and not on you.

“Oh no! Are you serious?” you frowned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to joke about something that-“

“Please don’t feel bad. You couldn’t have known. Besides, I still found a way to enjoy it,” he looked at you again, a soft twinkle in his eye despite discussing something that couldn’t have been pleasant to experience.

You took the headphone set off and softly set it back down on the table. 

“And if I never became a doctor, I never would’ve come to this town, or met you-or uh, any of the other great people here.”

Your expression softened. He was sitting so close to you, and all you wanted to do was reach out and touch his pink cheek before pulling him in for a-

“I’m glad you were still able to find work that was meaningful for you,” you looked at him and a strand of curled hair in his face that you desperately wanted to push back. “You know, I used to want to be a baker more than anything else in the world.”

“What happened?” Harvey asked, looking at you a little anxiously–although, you couldn’t be too sure that it wasn’t just his default expression. 

“Nothing too tragic. I just realized how unrealistic it all was. The good thing for me was that I was booksmart and liked to argue, so I had that to fall back on. I just settle for sending my friends a loaf of bread, or leaving anonymous cookies in the office every now and then.”

“I’m sure they appreciate that. I know I wouldn’t mind some surprise sourdough every now and then.”

“Next time I come to town, I’ll bring you some,” you promised. 

“If it’s not too much of a hassle, I would love that,” he smiled softly at you. Were you crazy, or had the two of you leaned in closer and closer since your conversation began?

You yawned, catching yourself by surprise. Running on the fuel of adrenaline that you got from being around the first man in a long time to make you feel anything, you hadn’t realized just how tired you were. 

“My offer still stands to walk you home,” Harvey reiterated before leaning back in his chair. 

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just sleep on one of the cots,” you insisted, though the thought of getting poor sleep on a stiff, sterilized cot seemed extraordinarily unappealing.

“They’re really uncomfortable,” he commented, looking down at his model planes and not at you. 

“I mean, if you want me to go home, I can go home,” you offered, though the rejection slightly stung, especially after the night the two of you just had. 

“No! I meant, you can sleep in my bed,” his eyes met yours, then were pulled back to the table. “If you’d like.”

“Oh!” your cheeks heated, as did the man across from you.

“I’m so sorry, I meant, you can have my bed. I’ll just sleep on my couch tonight.”

“Oh,” you laughed at the misunderstanding, though you certainly wouldn’t have minded sharing a bed with Harvey in any capacity. “Are you sure?”

“No worries at all.”

After declining an offer to borrow some of his pajamas (your heart could only handle so much in one evening), you settled in Harvey’s bed, impressed by how soft the mattress was. You were grateful that the lights were off and that he was on the other side of the room, as you wasted no time grabbing one of his pillows and inhaling deeply. Unsurprisingly, it smelled just like him, and it quickly lulled you right to sleep. 

In the morning, you woke up to the familiar scent of more coffee and the sound of your sister and Harvey conversing in the nearby kitchen. You sat up and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, squinting as you looked into the room to confirm what you thought you’d heard and smelled. The two of them stood in the kitchen, alternating between washing dishes and sipping something from mugs. They must’ve had breakfast while you slept. 

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” your sister announced as soon as she caught sight of you and your bed-head. “You look like you slept well.”

“What can I say? This is a very comfortable mattress,” you leaned over the side of the bed to gather a few of your belongings. 

“Would you like to stay for breakfast? We made you a plate,” Harvey offered kindly. You felt your heart bang against your ribcage as you recalled your evening, and you worried that the organ might actually explode in your chest. 

“Thank you, but I’m not super hungry,” you threw your legs over the side of the bed and stood up with a slight urgency. “Well, thanks for letting us stay over, Harvey. We’ll see you tonight.”

“Harvey told me all about the night you two had,” your sister boasted, clearly trying to get you to admit to something that didn’t happen. 

This was a familiar song and dance to you. For the longest time, your younger sibling was a master at manipulation, getting you to confess to things you didn’t do to cover her ass or make her look better to your family. That was before you went to law school. Now, your days of being manipulated were far in the past.

“So he must’ve told you how his back hurt from sleeping on the couch last night,” you easily retorted, not falling for her antics. 

“You made him sleep on the couch? That’s cold. Even for you,” she sucked her teeth to emphasize her facetious disappointment in you. 

“He offered to sleep there, thank you very much,” you corrected, trying to ignore the creeping feeling of annoyance at the friendly interrogation. It had been so long since you felt anything real for someone romantically, and you didn’t want your connection to be reduced to just a punchline for your sister to tease you with.

“Are you kidding? Have you never picked up a romance novel? That’s when you’re supposed to offer that you share the bed anyway and wake up cuddling.”

“Do you hear yourself? My life is not a corny, pulp fiction romance novel.” At this point, your annoyance now began to fully boil over. Maybe it was misplaced anger at yourself for falling for someone so easily, or frustration over the antics your sister put you through the night prior. Regardless of the cause, the outcome was the same. 

“I’m starting to really question if you even like this guy,” If your sister caught on to your genuine annoyance, she clearly didn’t show it as she continued with her joke. “You shouldn’t lead him on. He’s a sensitive guy, you know?”

“Okay, seriously, enough. I don’t want to talk about this right now with you,” your tone was stern and serious, a far cry from the one your sibling equipped.

“Sorry,” she looked and sounded genuinely remorseful, with guilt quickly taking over her features. “I’m so hungover right now,” she deflected, as if that would absolve her of her sins. You’d never seen anything more encapsulating of her behavior as your younger sibling. 

“Do you remember me having to chase you down in the cold?” you asked, partially to shame her, partially to change the subject.

“Unfortunately, yes,” she kicked a pile of snow. “I’m sorry for that too.”

“It’s… it’s okay,” you sighed, figuring that maybe you reacted out of proportion for reasons unbeknownst to her. Usually, the two of you were fine with banter, even when it dealt with touchier subjects. “Just don’t let it happen again.”

You both knew you weren’t just referring to her whiskey-fueled shenanigans. 

“I won’t,” she promised, looking a little bit like the guilty kid who took an extra cookie out of the jar and blamed it on you all over again. “Happy Feast of the Winter Star?” she offered.

“Happy Feast of the Winter Star,” you replied, pulling her in for a side hug. You could never stay mad at her for too long–not when she made you take the fall for her bad behavior as children, and not when she poked fun at your love life now.

There was only so much tagging along with your sister as she made small talk with the people in her town that you could do before you found yourself feeling a terrible combination of awkward, uncomfortable, and unwelcome. Luckily for you, your sister picked up on this rather quickly and suggested that you take a seat where you’d be sitting for the actual feast.

You watched with envy as your sister mingled with the townspeople. It was never particularly pleasant to be singled out, but you would’ve preferred if you weren’t the only person easily labeled an outsider and excluded from the gathering. You wished you were back in your warm apartment, a cinnamon-scented candle wafting into the air as you decorated your tree and watched Winter Star movies from your peripheral vision. Instead, you were left feeling like the awkward, brace-faced girl you were in your adolescence. 

“Happy Feast of the Winter Star,” the words stated behind you caught your attention. After you turned, you were unsurprised to find the voice belonged to Harvey and that he had taken a seat next to you. 

“Happy Feast of the Winter Star to you, too,” you replied, hoping you didn’t sound as pleased as you truly were to see him.

“Did you come here alone?” he sounded genuinely concerned as he asked, as if the mere concept of you celebrating the holiday alone was unacceptable.

“No, my sister and I came together. She was just doing her rounds talking to everyone and I just needed a second to be on my own,” you explained, figuring if anyone would understand needing a break to recharge on your own, it would be Harvey.

“Oh, then I could leave, if you’d like,” he offered. Was he always this polite and considerate of everyone else’s feelings?”

“No, you’re perfectly fine,” you assured him. “It’s always nice chatting with you. Have you exchanged gifts with your person yet?”

“Yeah, Pierre got me a new stethoscope. This might be my fourth new, gifted stethoscope I’ve been gifted since moving here,” he lamented. “Sorry, not to sound ungrateful. Did you get anything?”

You frowned at Harvey’s words. You had an idea that the people in the town struggled to see him as anything other than the town's doctor, but having several separate people all get you the same stereotypical medical gift had to hurt. Distantly, you promised yourself that if you came back next year, you would get him a far better gift. 

“There’s nothing wrong with being disappointed about that,” you affirmed, reaching out to place what you hoped to be a comforting hand on his arm. “My sister and I are swapping gifts tonight. Do you have any idea who she got? She wouldn’t tell me. Not like I know anyone here.”

“I don’t know for sure, but I have my suspicions,” he pointedly looked over to where she was talking enthusiastically with Maru and a man who almost looked related to her. 

“Oh my,” you laughed aloud. “Do you think there’s anything going on with Maru and my sister? I mean, after last night I’m almost certain she has a thing for her. Are they seeing each other?” you questioned.

“I’ve been wondering the same thing. Not to be nosy, but it is a small town and people talk,” he leaned in slightly and lowered his voice as if someone might overhear and do the very same gossiping that the two of you were partaking in now. 

“Tell me more,” you matched his motion by leaning in, excited to finally have the information your sister was depriving you of. 

“Well, at first your sister came by all the time because she genuinely needed medical assistance. I don’t mean to freak you out or anything, but she spent a lot of her first year here passing out. Sometimes from exhaustion, sometimes from fighting things off in the mines. I mean, she pays the clinic more than probably everyone else in this town combined.”

“Seriously? What could she possibly be doing?”

“She’s never told me. Maybe she’s told Maru? That’s the thing. She started coming for medical assistance, then I wasn’t sure if she was getting hurt on purpose just to see Maru. Whenever they’re together it’s all laughs and smiles. You know, one time she woke up after being in the mines, saw me, then asked where Maru was. When I said she had the day off, she declared she was fine and left.”

“Wow. I want to be shocked, but knowing her, it doesn’t seem all that far fetched,” you pulled your gaze away from the two of them to look back at Harvey. “So are they together?”

“I couldn’t tell you. Every time I bring it up to either of them, it’s like they’ve taken an oath of silence.”

“So what’s your diagnosis, Doctor? If you had to guess.”

“If I had to guess? Based on the serious, grade A yearning I’ve observed and the sheer amount of flirting they do in the clinic, I would say they are absolutely lovesick. I’ve never seen two people more infatuated with each other and in denial about it.”

“Hmm…” you hummed as you thought. “I guess I’m glad that she’s got friends here. I’m less glad that her social skills haven’t improved since she was a middle schooler.” you paused once more. “What if we set them up together?”

The words you’d said to your sister the last time you came to visit reverberated in your head. Something about not interfering with each other’s love lives anymore. A counterargument immediately came to mind–your sister already forfeited this agreement when she decided to pull that little stunt at the Saloon. Not that you were particularly mad at it, but the game seemed to already be afoot. It was only fair that you got to play, too. 

“I mean, a friendly nudge couldn’t hurt…” he trailed off. 

“And that’s really all they need,” you agreed. “I would love to help you with this operation, but I don’t see me being very useful with this while I’m in the city.”

Harvey thought for a moment, then seemingly hesitated before he spoke. “Why don’t we exchange numbers? That way we can brainstorm and I can keep you updated if I find anything else out about their status.”

You couldn’t exactly say that was what you were expecting to hear from him, but you certainly couldn’t say that you were mad about his offer either. In fact, getting his number was probably one of the best outcomes you could’ve hoped to accomplish the entire trip–outside of bonding and spending quality time with your sibling. 

You took his device and entered your contact information, feeling like you were on a cloud higher than cloud nine.  

For the rest of the feast, you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face. You could chalk it up to the collective joy of the community as a young girl set the star-shaped topper on the tree, or the laughter that bounced around the table throughout the meal, but deep down, you knew what it really was. For so long, you’d been happy with your life, but missing and craving one thing—and you finally felt like you had some semblance of a shot at getting it. 

Despite all the less-than-ideal temperatures and the histrionics of your sister after a few drinks, you found that you weren’t so mad that you came to spend the holiday in Stardew Valley after all.

[stinkybrowndogs]

gsps really are the most Dog of all dog breeds

I’m honestly surprised there are not more shorthairs on dogblr. What’s the hold up people. They are basically just a Malinois minus the teeth and brains and there are like 50 of those bopping around on this site! That and gsps are truly a dime a dozen. I could go on Craigslist right now and find a few byb litters. (I won’t. But I could.)

In all seriousness I think it has to do with the fact that the people who enjoy them unfortunately tend to lean conservative 😓 especially once you get into the hunting community. Being obviously gay or trans in hunting spaces is not super comfortable or safe feeling and I can only imagine being non-white in these spaces as well. That and the popular training methods used for gun dogs are… interesting. To say the least.

Some snippets of the books I was given when I was trying to get into hunting :

That isn’t to say that these are completely void of any useful information, there are lot of simple training steps that make perfect sense for the task the dogs are doing. But I think you have to take some of this with a grain of salt; when I was trying to get into hunting I found that I was able to achieve the same results with less adverse methods, plus my mentor was much more versed in modern dog training and conditioning. Brandy’s training is more of a blend of the two- the most adverse tools we used was a woah- harness (phased out pretty quickly) and an e-collar for long distance recall (again, there is a bit of a trade off of comfort for safety- the dogs job in the field necessitates being off leash and pushing out far ahead of the handler, and they can quickly get out of sight or earshot. Having a Vibrate-based recall cue simply makes sense. This should be paired with a gps collar just in case… I was told many a horror story of dogs falling into mine shafts and only being found because of the gps Tag).

Force fetching was never on the table. I saw one handler with a rubber bumper covered in toothpicks so his dog would not bite down too hard on it… never had to do that either. I’ve never had to strap an e-collar to my dogs belly. I don’t have to force my dog into a down to teach her. I don’t step on her toes (on purpose).

Her WOAH command maybe took longer than I would have liked, but it’s solid with lots of practice. Her recall is great and regularly practiced, and I don’t need an e-collar to reinforce it. She has a wonderful natural fetch, though we never formalized it. She’s beautiful when she’s on point, and it’s amazing to just see her do exactly what she was meant to do with little input from me. Truly no greater feeling than watching her cross back and forth across a field in front of me and freeze into a perfect point. It’s like she wants to chase the bird/rabbit/whatever SO BAD she’s shaking but her genetics won’t let her.

If I had the money to get back into hunting and falconry I would do it in a heartbeat. It’s a hobby that’s been sidelined since losing my job for obvious reasons, and it’s the first thing I want to pick up when I have a more stable income. If and when that will happen, I am unsure

What the fuck were we talking about. Oh yeah.

Dogs of all time for sure. But very much a dog that is good at the one thing they are good at, and if you DON’T do that thing, they can be…. A bit much. Being so environmentally focused can be difficult for people I think. It’s just not what many people are looking for (even though they give world class cuddles). That and the energy level; I don’t think it’s too bad, especially now that they are older (we go out for runs like 2-3 times a week) but also I simply would not leave the house if there were no consequences, so having a creature that will dismantle my furniture if I do not go get some vitamin D is a great motivator. The dichotomy of being a Velcro dog and being nearly oblivious to their handler when they are off leash is interesting, and probably why you don’t really see them in many sporting dog circles, or working outside of hunting. You gotta cement that recall before you let them off leash, ESPECIALLY being able to recall off of wildlife, and you gotta work really hard to reinforce handler engagement. I joke that Brandy is an idiot, but everything she needs to be able to do seems to be hardwired into her, and the things I had to teach her (recall, leave it, drop it, WOAH ect) she picked up quickly and hardly ever has issues with. (Dont talk to me about loose leash walking though)

Regardless, I love their personalities, their niche behaviors, their energy level, their ability to be the goofiest silliest idiots, their soft soft floppy ears, I love how they talk back to me when I talk to them, I love their big booming barks and club feet. I love that we are ultimately exploring the world together, and the joy we share when running through the woods or on the beach. I love watching them leap into the river with reckless abandon. And then at the end of the day, all they want to do is get under the covers with me and fall asleep. They are perfect monsters and I can’t see myself without them.

[callipraxia]

Note: haven’t tasted any of these yet (though I did say “the heck with good sense” and order some samples; check back in about a week for proper reviews) and am just musing about what some of the components are and how they link to GF characters, at least in my mind. That established, here are Some Preliminary Notes, Just Based On General Knowledge Of Tea:

Mabel: I have no idea what a mix of spearmint, strawberry, and watermelon would taste like (I really like spearmint, but dislike strawberry and am indifferent to watermelon), but somehow, yep, I still feel comfortable saying this one just sounds right.

The Author: If that Assam is a good Assam, then I want this. I will note that I have drunk roasted mate before, but don’t know what it tastes like exactly; Stash used to have this salted caramel mate/black tea mix that was my daily favorite for my lidded work mug, back when we worked in an office. It’s also caffeinated, though I’m not sure that matters as much when it is blended with a black tea and particularly with Assam. Strong stuff, usually, Assam; I drink it a lot in the springtime because it’s one of the few substances that really helps with my awful spring allergies.

Dipper: I…don’t know that I’ve had passionfruit tea before, actually. The ‘passion’ bit certainly fits Dipper’s personality, anyway. Lemongrass is very nice. Sour apple is less my style, I like apples that are very firm and very sweet, but this also suits Dipper’s personality just on name alone, bless him.

Stan: On one hand, Lapsang Souchong is the famous “smoked” tea, and people who dislike it have been known to describe it as like walking into a casino with a mouth full of water. Personally, as someone who likes LS, I don’t think it’s much like that at all - but then, I grew up eating a lot of smoked meat (my father liked mixing in hickory with the charcoal for the fire in his grill), I still like a bite of smoked cheese, and my infernal sinus sensitivity has it where I can immediately differentiate wood smoke versus cigarette smoke (and occasionally, between brands of cigarette - I curse the day my grandmother switched from Salem Lights to Marlboros) vs cigar smoke. I set foot in the lobby of a casino precisely once in my life, then had to flee because of the overwhelming stink of cigarette smoke was making me sick even from a room’s width away….

Oh, wait, we weren’t here for my personal anecdotes and oddly specific knowledge bases, were we? I get sentimental sometimes, which ironically fits Stan as well as an association with a casino does, if that’s how you experience Lapsang. There are a lot of different experiences you can have with Lapsang, from smooth to very ‘prickly’ feeling, sour or sweet, the base can taste woody (which isn’t a bad thing in tea) or overpoweringly naturally fruity, in a dark forest fruits kind of way…complicated stuff, so also appropriate for Stan in that way. Caramel is a lovely sweet flavor, close enough to toffee that Lapsang and caramel could bring to mind both bacon and toffee, two of Stan’s favorite food items. It occurs to me that peanut isn’t really a note I’ve seen in tea…possibly adding a bit of some other nut might give a little nod in that direction, along with moving the caramel more toward toffee? I’d love to tinker with blending myself to see what I could end up with. Which I may actually be able to do - this looks like Adagio Teas, who at least used to have the ‘make your own blend’ option. I never tried it myself - or, in fact, any Adagio teas - but wow, this brings back memories, I can’t even recall when I last thought of Adagio, and had in fact had the vague impression that they weren’t open anymore, though good for them if they are.

I don’t know what a mambo is outside of a song about “mambo Italiano” that everybody sang like three lines of all the time when I was in elementary school (despite none of us speaking a word of Italian, unless you count ‘macaroni,’ and probably none of us even being able to find Italy on a map), but I suspect it’s here to prevent us from ending up with too darkly elegant of a cup - the base blend might hit multiple things Stan likes, but comes off a little more dark academia than any flavor of chaotic or animated. “Mambo” also may be Spanish, which would be a nice nod to Stan’s adventures in central and South America. Other ways one might accomplish that could be a touch of mate, or, if one really must, some coffee-flavor.

Ford: If I were to assign Ford a Lapsang souchong, it would be one of those raw-dark-fruits one I mentioned in Stan’s bit, ones where the smoke plays only a minor role. I think Ford would really like to be something like, say, Smoky Earl Grey from Fortnum’s, but I spent the past two years of my life writing a monograph on the subject of how this is a veneer, not his actual personality - there aren’t really any Fortnum’s people in Gravity Falls except perhaps Pacifica, and I think of her as more of one of those very…frilly-feeling French teas. But we’re discussing Ford…really, really good pu’erh can give you a sort of brain-sparkly feeling I can see working for Ford. Inadequate memory of what hazelberry tastes like to comment on that. Assam -

Assam, really, is plenty complicated on its own. Indian teas are especially characterized by whether they are first flush (the first round of leaves harvested) or second flush (the ones that grow in later). A nice Assam can have a lovely honey note, though the word most people use for Assams is “malty.” I don’t know what malt tastes like, though, so I don’t know about that. I can say that I can usually tell if I’m going to love or hate a given Assam at practically first sip, which, along with how Lapsang is very much a matter of taste, does reflect on how divisive the character is said to be in corners of the Internet that aren’t mine.

Stan W/O Lapsang: can’t see the description in the image, can’t comment on that one.

Bill Cipher: I can’t really imagine these tastes together, but I automatically want to revolt at lavender being included - I like lavender, you see. If I was going to make a Bill tea myself, I’d get a really lousy pu’erh - I vividly remember one I had one time that tasted like fish fried in over-used grease and which made me sick to my stomach if I drank too much of it even if I somehow drowned out the fish with enough of Harney’s Vanilla Black - and then throw all the tropical fruits in it, and then throw a red berry mix into it (I don’t like red berry blends, unless you count teas with cranberry flavor in, which your standard Four Red Fruits type of tea doesn’t usually have). This would probably taste bizarre, foul, and utterly confused, but it would be in character. Though really, if I was going to sum up Bill as a liquid, I’d probably go with a cocktail of antifreeze and bleach.

The Mystery Shack: I can’t remember off the top of my head if Pu’erh Dante is flavored or not, or if there’s anything extra to account for the ‘moonlight’ aspect of Earl Grey Moonlight, so I really can’t say much here, except that pu’erh and key lime could capture something of the sense of the place - bright and summery colliding with all this tangled mess of messy adult lives just beneath the surface. Can’t really imagine what that would actually taste like, though.

Mabel (Alt W/O Strawberry): “berry blast” is too vague for me to say anything without knowing what the berries in question are. I probably wouldn’t like it (see comments on Four Red Fruits blends), but it does match the idea of Mabel.

Ford W/O Lapsang: Fun fact: the tea typically called gunpowder green isn’t actually smoky at all. It’s named that because of the unique shape of its preparation, which make the leaves into little pellets that apparently resemble stuff you put into really old-fashioned guns. The best gunpowder I ever had tasted strongly of honey; the worst was a bitter mess that I couldn’t dump enough honey into to salvage it. Which is also kinda Ford-appropriate, in a way….

This tea’s primary interest lies in how it’s a blend of three out of the four/five most common tea ‘categories’ - no oolong or white tea, but green tea, black tea, and pu’erh? That’s an interesting combination. I’ve seen green and black blends before (Murchie’s of Canada particularly has a thing about mixing a little green tea into their black teas; results vary for me), though since you don’t make black and green tea at the same temperature, I must admit the idea has always kind of confused me. Never seen one with pu’erh in it before, though, so points for originality if nothing else.

@sovonight has Gravity Falls inspired tea!

Complete with their beautiful artwork on the packaging.

Get the tea here!

[ghostdrinkssoup]

the way madoka magica is my favourite anime and nbc hannibal is my favourite show which seems odd at first because there are No immediate similarities between them until you realise they both feature an insane and obsessive romance strong enough to defy god and the general concept of time, as well as a betrayal so profound it permanently changes the trajectory of the narrative. also fucked up imagery and phantasmagoria, out of pocket allusions to classic texts, and unhinged lesbianism

[unriding]

a … a gift from the talented @kruinka 🥹 thank you so much!! ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ)

[lesbiansanemi]

Currently trying not to vomit over the fact that I essentially just lost almost a thousand dollars brb

[spicyicymeloncat]

I saw in your notes that you had to cancel your birthday so happy (possibly late) birthday!!

Haha thanks it was last year in September lol!!

And actually I did get to do birthday plans it was just kinda miserably bc the reason I was going to cancel was due to conflicts with my mum (and her making me feel like an awful person about it), but my other mum didn’t care and we went anyways and it was actually fine (the concerns my mum didn’t happen)

Also I was going through basically a platonic break up as well so crazy month lol

But thank you, and everyone who sent me flags, it was nice to get some positive interaction during all that!

[kavehayati]

Jaw dropped what.

[cheriecoke]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LOOK, MOM! — nanami kento

yuuji accidentally calls you mom

contents: nanami x fem!reader, husband nanami hehe, this is very silly and random and stupid, fluff, nanami & reader are yuuji's adoptive parents fr, words: 1059

“nanamin!” yuuji waves at the figure approaching from behind you, a flashy grin appearing on his face as he glances at the blonde man over your shoulder. “i didn’t know you were coming by today!”

kento's hair sweeps over his forehead in the wind, a few strands coming free as he heads towards you. it's a brisk day, and he has two hot coffees in his hands that he'd picked up after his mission.

a bead of sweat drips down yuuji's temple, and he wipes it with his sleeve, still breathing heavily. you'd spent the last hour training together, pushing his physical capabilities. gojo had been busy recently, between all the missions and his conversations with the higher ups.

so, of course, you'd volunteered to teach the newest student when he couldn't. quickly, he became your favorite of the three first years.

“i’m in between assignments.” kento hands you the coffee, places a gentle hand on your lower back with a smile that is hardly there. “mind if i steal my wife away for a bit?”

yuuji shrugs, his face still bright as he glances between the two of you. ever since he’d found out two of his favorite sorcerers were together, he’d hardly shut up about it.

“no problem. i’m going to meet up with fushiguro anyway.” he brushes the dirt off his pants, waving to the two of you.

“good job today, yuuji!” grateful for something to warm you up in the chilly air, you take a sip of the coffee. it’s perfect, as always, just what you needed. “you’re improving a lot!”

he grins, proud of his accomplishments. “thanks, mom! see you later!”

there's an elongated moment of silence.

you choke on your coffee as kento stiffens beside you, watching while yuuji comes to a skittering halt.

all three of you freeze. you cough, clearing your throat, and kento's hand, steady on your back, has stilled. “yuuji—“

“oh,” the teenager says, his face turning bright red as he realizes what he’s called you. he glances between the two of you, embarrassment evident. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—“

though, you don’t give yuuji enough time to protest. within seconds, you’ve gathered him up in your arms, squeezing the younger boy to your chest. “kento, we have a son!”

you feel yuuji tense, before he relaxes, and throws his arms around you in an even tighter hug. there’s some sort of thanks resting there. he laughs, carefree, a sound you never want to be taken away from the boy who manages to shine so brightly in such a dark world.

kento stares at you, folds his glasses up in his pocket, as if to show you both how unimpressed he is. “do we?” he asks, lips flat, though, you see through the facade to the amusement hidden in his irises. “i'm certain i would’ve remembered something like that.”

you make a face at him, covering yuuji’s ears dramatically. “oh, don’t listen to your dad, yuuji. he’s old, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

kento blinks, and then sighs, wrinkling his nose. though, when he sees yuuji’s wide grin, his eager expression, he decides to play along.

“well, then... there must be a lapse in my memory." kento crosses his arms over his chest as he regards the two of your extensively, searching for something. "that would certainly explain the striking resemblance between us.” he says drily.

yuuji laughs, a loud snort. he looks nothing like either of you, but you’re not sure he’s ever gotten to witness kento's sarcastic sense of humor, the one that not everyone really gets.

“exactly!” yuuji quips back to kento’s blank expression. "everyone tells me i have the same smile as my dad!

kento’s trying hard not to let yuuji win that one, but you can see the slight wrinkle around his eye, the tiny quirk of his lips. beside the pink haired boy, you choke out a few giggles, covering your mouth.

“yes," kento nods, solemn. "i’ve heard that as well.”

"so you do know how to make jokes, nanamin!" yuuji shouts, nearly jumping in the air as he cheers. "i can't wait to tell fushiguro this."

kento rolls his eyes, but yuuji’s so pleased, and he releases you, his eyes soft and bright as he pulls away.

though he doesn’t say it, doesn't thank you for anything, you can tell he’s grateful. itadori yuuji may be happy with his life as it is now, may have found a home within the friends he’s made at the high school, but you know he misses his grandfather. sometimes, perhaps, he even longs for the conventional family he never really got to have.

you ruffle his hair, the pink strands catching between the cracks of your fingers. “tell him i said hello too.”

yuuji nods, stuffing his hands in his pocket as he steps away. “i will!” his cheerful gaze is pinned on your husband, a secretive smile making a home on his lips. “bye, dad.”

kento shakes his head, and sighs again, though you can tell, a part of him is touched to have won so much of yuuji's admiration. “have a good evening, itadori.”

you watch the young boy scurry away, hands in his pockets as he braces himself against the cold.

"you should be nicer to your son, kento."

kento snorts, throwing an arm over your shoulder as he brings you closer to him. "i am nice to him," he says, kissing your temple softly. "a little hard on him, maybe, but i just don't want anything bad to happen to him."

you soften, look up at him with warm eyes, and you squeeze the hand that is resting on your shoulder. "i know," you say, your heart clenching. you've thought about it before, thought of kento with a tiny child that looks just like him, cradled against his chest. thought of him with a little girl whose hair he can braid, a little boy he can raise to be a gentleman.

but you hadn't talked about it; you'd always thought your life was too busy, too dangerous for children.

"you'd make a good dad, ken," you say, your cheeks flushed as you grin at him.

kento's eyes flash. "really?" an array of emotions scurries across his features before he leans down, kissing you softly. "is this your way of telling me you want a baby, sweetheart?" his voice deepens as he whispers against your lips, smiling. "because i'm more than happy to give you one."

[chuluoyi]

LOVER'S QUARREL

- fushiguro megumi x reader

“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.

genre/warnings: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)

note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.

And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.

But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.

You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.

You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.

So how dare he spout this now?

“I can't do this anymore.”

"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"

"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."

This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.

You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"

"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."

Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.

Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.

"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"

Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"

"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"

In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.

And yet...

"...I'm sorry."

Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.

And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."

As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.

Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."

You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.

Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.

Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.

"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.

"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."

"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"

"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."

"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."

. . .

"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.

Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”

Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”

“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”

He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.

Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…

How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?

Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.

With Hakari.

“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.

An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.

Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.

“Megumi?”

Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?

“Megumi!”

“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”

He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."

But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.

"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"

"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.

From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.

...huh?

Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?

What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.

Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—

Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.

How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.

How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.

But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.

“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?

Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?

They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.

What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?

You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!

You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...

"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.

You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."

This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?

Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.

"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.

Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."

You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.

Stay close, he said... So he is worried...

And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.

You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"

"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.

"You two seem close."

Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?

Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"

In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.

You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?

"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.

Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.

But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"

Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.

For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.

Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.

And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"

"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"

He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.

You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"

"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.

"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.

"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"

Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—

At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.

He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—

Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.

You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.

Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.

And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.

"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"

You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.

It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.

"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."

Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.

"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.

"Don't leave me."

It was like a distant, hazy memory.

Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.

The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.

You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.

Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.

Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.

Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...

You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.

"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."

When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.

"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."

You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.

“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.

He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.

"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.

However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."

...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?

"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."

"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"

"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"

“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”

Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.

"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"

You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.

You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"

"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.

He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."

And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."

Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."

And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.

“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”

A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.

But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."

And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.

"Maybe I am, yeah."

"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."

"Yeah..."

But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.

On one sunny day...

"Hey, are you alone?"

Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.

"No. Can I help you?"

The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"

The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—

Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.

"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."

Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.

"Megumi!"

Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—

He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.

"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"