#and now she is trusting him more and opening her heart and Y'ALL

[highlynerdy]

I am completely gone on these two. Just...them.

[idyllicwillowtree]

God Eddie, You're So In Love With Me. (part 2)

Genre: Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader, fem!reader, angst/fluff, hurt/eventual comfort, friends to lovers

Summary: Being in Hellfire, you’ve been exposed to your fair share of bullying. One day, Jason takes it a step too far.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: bullying, anaphylaxis, poisoning, no physical descriptions of Y/N so you don’t have to look like Dustin, reader uses she/her, reader has a peanut allergy, swearing, angy Eddie, hospital

Author’s note: Thank you so much for the positive comments on part 1! I was feeling insecure about this fic so that was very nice y'all are so sweet <3

Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

Part 1

Eddie looked to you, hoping to see you looking up at him and smiling that way you do whenever he uses his renaissance voice. Instead he met your panicked eyes.

“Hey Henderson,” Jason called from across the cafeteria. “What happens now? Should we call an ambulance?” Andy shoved at his shoulder playfully and chortled alongside Jason.

Panic gripped you as you connected the dots.

“Yeah,” you wheezed, “call an ambulance.” 

All the Hellfire members whipped their heads toward you, witnessing an angry rash spreading across your skin and your breathing becoming audible as you tried to suck in as much oxygen as possible.

Eddie’s heart clenched painfully as he looked down at you, remembering the severity of your allergy after Dustin explained it to him one time. Still, Eddie was taken aback by the speed at which your symptoms were progressing.

You reached a hand out to Eddie as the choked coughs took over. He ignored your hand in favor of catching your body before it hit the ground. With trembling limbs he carefully lowered you to the grimy tile of the cafeteria floor.

“Fuck,” Eddie cursed, “Dustin! What do we do?!”

Dustin had froze. Panic set in as he watched his older sister struggle more and more to take in a full breath. A small crowd began to gather and the excited chatter of the cafeteria simmered into hushed whispers and gasps. Everyone was watching, and not in the way Eddie was used to.

“Henderson!” Eddie snapped. 

At that, Dustin went to work. “Mike, go call 911! Lucus, see if the nurse has an epipen. GO!” The sheep dispersed. Dustin picked up your bag with trembling hands and began digging through your books and school supplies, searching for the epinephrine injector he swears you kept in there.

Eddie turned his attention back to you, trusting that Dustin had the rest handled. At the look of panic in your blotchy and swollen face he almost froze too. A chilling dread spread through his veins as you began clawing at your throat, doing everything you could to open your airways. 

“Hey, hey, hey, look at me princess. You’re gonna be alright, gonna be just fine, you hear me? D-Dustin will getchu your meds and you’ll be good to go,” Eddie rambled, trying to convince himself just as much. He gently cradled your warm face and stroked your hair to try and soothe you.

With every second passing you became closer and closer to death. Eddie looked up in desperation. His red-headed neighbor (Max, he thinks her name is) snatched the backpack out of a distraught Dustin’s hands and turned it upside down, emptying its contents. Robin was there too and put a comforting arm around your brother while Max took over the search for the injector. Eddie was vaguely aware of a teacher trying to pry him off of you but he’d risk getting expelled for shoving a teacher if it meant staying by your side. 

“Got it!” Max exclaimed, holding the orange and clear tube triumphantly. She slid to her knees on your otherside, not hesitating to jam the needle into your leg and holding it there.

Eddie flinched at the force it took to inject you. You took your first full breath, allowing him to take one as well. Your eyes were drooping slightly as the medicine was introduced into your system.

“Hey, there she is,” Eddie said gently.

Your tired eyes met his and he could’ve sworn the corners of your lips twitched upwards.

The paramedics arrived and Eddie hesitantly let you go so they could treat you. It was a blur of navy blue and red as they hooked you up to numerous tubes and slid an oxygen mask over your head. 

You became slightly more alert at the sight of strangers surrounding you as the stretcher clicked into place, raising you a couple feet off the ground. You moved your head tiredly trying to catch sight of anyone you knew. Anyone to comfort you.

“Dustin, go with her,” Eddie told the curly haired boy. He looked up at him with wet eyes that clenched at Eddie’s heart. “She needs you, go on.”

Eddie watched the determination emerge on the freshman’s face as he walked through the paramedics declaring that he was your brother, allowing him to be by your side. 

Swallowing thickly past the dryness in his mouth, Eddie watched you get rolled out on the stretcher. 

He turned numbly to see that Lucas and Mike had returned and started digging through your lunch, in an attempt to find out what it was that could’ve caused your reaction. As the two predictably began to bicker, Eddie grabbed the cup of applesauce and slowly brought the spoon out. To his horror, he scooped out a few small round nuts mixed with the smooth texture of the applesauce. 

His darkened eyes snapped up, immediately finding Jason. He at least had the decency to look scared, his skin white as a sheet. True terror shining through as he came to realize the severity of what he did. He shook his head slightly, pleading with Eddie. For what, he wasn’t sure. But he could give a shit.

The grip on the applesauce tightened, causing it to tremble, before he launched it in Jason's general direction. A fire of rage lit up Eddie's entire being, consuming any reason or restraint within him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! You could’ve killed her!!” Eddie roared, the words ripping from his throat like a thunderclap.  Every fiber in his being screamed for justice, determined to ensure that no harm would ever come to you again. 

“I-I-I didn’t think…I didn’t mean to-” Jason blubbered.

“Not good enough!” Eddie snapped. He charged forward, driven by the need to avenge your pain. Just when he was closing the distance between them a thick arm wrapped around his upper body. “LET ME GO!”

Eddie struggled against the firm grip that held him back from doing to Jason what he should've done a long time ago. If Eddie was strong enough, he could've saved you, stopped all of this bullying in its tracks before Jason had ever even looked in your direction. His strength never came from muscles or brute force, but from his anger—the primal need to protect those he loved. He was so consumed by his rage that a red haze blurred his vision. Or were those his tears?

“Eddie, man, don’t do this,” Doug said, doing his best to calm his friend.

“Please,” Eddie pleaded, losing some of his fight. “Just let me go.” 

“Dude, if you get into a fight you won’t be able to see Y/N in the hospital,” the bassist whispered in Eddie’s ear. He looked over and saw Principle Coleman closing in on them, there wasn’t much time left. “We can handle it, just go while you can.”

A wave of overwhelming frustration washed over Eddie as the struggle against Doug’s hold diminished. Tears welled up in his eyes as his chest released his rage and tightened back up with helplessness and despair.

He didn’t let it consume him though, taking off in the opposite direction of the principle, his sheep following close behind.

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

When the van ripped into the hospital parking lot, Eddie finally took notice of how many stowaways he had. Lucas, Mike, Max, Robin, and even Nancy all burst through the double doors at the back of his skunky smelling van and made their way to the emergency room entrance.

Eddie was the first one through the doors, eyes scanning the waiting area for his curly haired friend. What he wasn’t expecting to see was the one and only King Steve sitting with the boy. 

Steve noticed them first, taking the lead on letting them know what’s going on. He explained that you’d be fine but the doctors are running some tests and getting you hooked up to the necessary machines. It’ll be a little longer before Eddie gets to see you with his own eyes.

Eddie turned on his heel and walked through the doors he just came through as Steve explained that your mom was called but was on a trip with her girlfriends and won’t be able to make it back until tomorrow.

The disinfected smell of the hospital only offered to heighten Eddie’s desire for a cigarette. He finds solace in the only coping mechanism he has under his belt, even if he knew it was bad for him in the long run. The stress of the day weighed heavily on him as he leaned on the brick wall of the hospital outside. The familiar routine of lighting up offered a good distraction, the only way to momentarily ease his anxiety.

That was until your brother found him. He silently stood next to him, not feeling the need to fill the silence with anything but the gentle breeze and the birds chirping in the distance. But it made Eddie feel uneasy.

“I’d offer you a smoke, but I don’t want to corrupt you more than I already have,” Eddie said with a sad laugh.

Ignoring Eddie’s comment, Dustin asked, “you remember that one time when Hellfire came over to my house for a session? When the theater kids needed the drama room at school?”

Eddie nodded his head slowly, releasing the smoke from his lungs as he did so.

“I was still in middle school so I had only heard about you from Y/N. She had this weird way of speaking about you. It was in a way I had never heard her speak about anyone before.”

Eddie’s heart punched against his ribs painfully, his insecurities taking over.

“She was nice enough to let me watch your campaign so I could get ideas for the campaign I was doing with Mike and Lucas, and our other friend Will. I think she regretted it because of the Reese's Pieces incident.”

Eddie couldn’t help but start chuckling embarrassingly at the memory. “God, that was so stupid,” he smacked his forehead in an attempt to stop his mind from reliving one of the most embarrassing moments of his life. 

-

The Hellfire members flooded into your home, bringing chips, candy, and drinks to share. Your first time hosting the club was going great, until Dustin noticed the bag of Reese’s Pieces in Eddie’s hand.

“My sister is too nice to say anything but-” Dustin started.

“Stop, Dustin-”

“-we can’t have those in the house.”

Eddie’s eyebrows pinched beneath his bangs, “what? Why not?”

“She’s allergic to peanuts.”

Before you could roll your eyes at your little brother and reassure him it was fine, Eddie turned and chucked the bag out your kitchen’s open window leaving you standing there in shock and Eddie horrified by his own impulse.

-

“I think that’s when she fell in love with you.”

Eddie’s head whipped over to Dustin. The kid had the audacity to look smug after completely shattering his world view. His mind spun with the revelation.

Love, a word so potent, was now intertwined with his thoughts of your relationship. Eddie knew he liked you, a lot, but his brain never brought him to love. He replayed moments from your friendship in his head, searching for the signs, trying to decipher if Dustin was telling the truth. If the sentiment was truly real. A mix of surprise and uncertainty overwhelmed him, but there was also something warm and hopeful there. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.

He needed to see you and hear it from you directly. A million thoughts and memories raced through his mind, but one thing was clear–he needed to be with you, to tell you how he felt.

part 3

tags: @beeblisss @fishwithtitz @leah-loves-lilies

[madlittlecriminal]

[02] Secret Ingredient⥓ Mafia!Miguel O'Hara × Female!Baker!Reader

y'all, im sorry. i was sick. im back now though, so hope you guys enjoy!

Warnings: mention of losing sleep, mentions of dana, mention of brothels, mentions of exotic dancer clubs

series masterlist | miguel o'hara masterlist

Miguel lost sleep that week.

The fact that you were the owner of the bakery he had his eye on was upsetting. Even though he still had to get to know you, he wasn't sure if he could if there was a possibility of falling in love with you and he wasn't sure if he was ready to risk it. Obviously, there were other reasons why his relationship with Dana ended. It was true that he didn't want her to have control over his club, but it stemmed from more than just business partnership.

Dana wanted to be the owner because she wanted to change things and he didn't want that. She wanted to make it into a brothel, but he didn't want that. Not only did he already have exotic dancers at their own clubs that catered to all genders since he preferred being inclusive, but he also hated thinking of how some men are gross and just disrespectful. In his clubs, he had strict rules, and he knew Dana wouldn't have enforced those rules; he didn't want it to come bite him in the ass.

This was different though.

You were different.

He felt weird, going to the club earlier just to get the chance to see you.

He hasn't stepped foot in your bakery since he met you. Lyla and Jess have been on his ass about meeting you again. They couldn't understand why their boss was being weird about a woman, but Peter did.

Miguel had a conversation with Peter which helped him out a little, but he wouldn't admit it to his face; he had to push his shy boy out the way in order to talk to you, but he didn't know how.

So, he decided to pay you a visit on his day off at Alchemax.

You were dealing with a girl who was currently doing cake testing for her quince (sweet 15) which made him smile softly when you gave her a piece of Neapolitan cake since she couldn't decide between chocolate, vanilla and strawberry.

"This is the alternative if you don't want to do separate layers of cake." You say, making Miguel's body tingle with heat as red painted his cheeks.

He quickly concluded that he could listen to you talk for hours.

"It's amazing!" The fourteen-year-old jumped a little after swallowing the piece of cake, making you smile.

"I'm glad you like it." You look up and give Miguel a grin, making his legs shake slightly.

"We'll take this one." Her father said with a grin while ruffling his daughter's hair and pulling out his wallet.

"Great! When do you need it by?" You ask, tilting your head to the side as you look between the mother, the father and the daughter.

"About four months from now. It's the last thing we need."

You nod, giving them the price of the deposit and taking the list of cake ideas from the girl before bidding goodbye.

When they left, your eyes met Miguel's again, making his heart race.

"How can I help you?" You scan him quickly, taking note of his leather jacket, the white shirt that peaked from underneath it along with his black jeans and the same ruby colored sunglasses from your first encounter.

He gives you a shy smile before looking at the desserts, biting the inside of this cheek. "Surprise me."

You raise a brow. "Are you sure about that?"

He nods.

"You hardly know me and you're trusting me to surprise you with a dessert?"

He nods again.

"What if I poison you?" You joke.

"Querida, if you wanted to poison me, you would've done it when we first met." He states. (Darling/Dear)

You blink up at him before opening your mouth to say something, closing it and repeating the process once more before turning your back and grabbing gloves, a wax tissue sheet along with a paper bag and making your way to the kitchen.

His face goes red with embarrassment as he looks at the ground. He makes his foot graze your tiles like a child embarrassed or shy to ask a question. However, he noticed one of your tiles were cracked and another that was actually missing.

"Ah, don't mind the floor. It happened two days ago." You rest the bag on the counter that contained a few pieces of tamriyeh that you just finished preparing.

"How?" He asks, tilting his head to the side.

"A woman stomped her bulky heels on the cracked one and she kicked the other when she saw it was loose." You explain with a shrug before giving him the total.

He raises a brow before giving you $10. "Why did she do that?"

You snicker. "She was annoyed I got her order wrong, telling me I was a fake baker because my treats weren't as good as her mother in law's desserts, but I never advertised them to be better."

He rolls his eyes at the ignorance of the woman and takes the bag. "Thank you. Keep the change and don't worry about the receipt."

You sigh. "Are you ever going to ask for the change or the receipt?"

"Probably not. Have a good day and stay safe." He walks out, leaving you stunned.

"When I catch you, Ruby..." You say softly as you watch his tall figure walk away with a glare before taking the receipt and putting it away and putting the cash in the register.

———

tags:

@deputy-videogamer @barbiecrocs @deepinballs @faimmm @wakeupr41 @bubblegumfanfics @smartyren @kimmis-stuff @latenightcravingz @youcantseem3 @corpsebridenightamare @thedevax @cicithemess @diannana

*if you do not get the notification, i put the link of your blogs because it wasn't allowing me to tag you.

[samuelsdean]

There Would Be No Us

pairing: sam winchester x reader

summary: demon blood, and the power it granted people, but also the terrible price it exacted. you knew—sam knew firsthand—about it. you wouldn't be here today hunting those sons of bitches if sam wasn't fed that stupid thing all those years ago. sam knew the consequences, and yet. sam, fueled by grief and a desperate needto exact revenge for dean, wasn't immune to its allure.

genre: angst

word count: 1.5k

author's notes: i hope y'all have your tissues ready because this one hurts. that's it. also posted on ao3 (spencereids).

THE RHYTHMIC PATTER OF RAIN AGAINST THE MOTEL ROOF WAS A FAMILIAR LULL, ONE YOU'D GROWN ACCUSTOMED TO OVER THE PAST FEW MONTHS. But tonight, it felt more like a funeral march. Sat on the threadbare bed, you stared at the chipped paint on the wall, the stillness amplifying the gnawing emptiness in your chest. It had been hours since Sam left, hours filled with the echo of him slamming the motel door shut and the roar of the Impala starting and driving into the rain. You had watched him your concern growing with each passing moment. It had been what? Two? Three months, going on four, passed since Dean had been dragged to Hell, and the toll on Sam was clear.

Another lead, another dead end. You knew the routine by heart now, the crushing disappointment that followed every failed attempt to get revenge for Dean. Tonight, though, the weight felt heavier. It's been months since that fateful night Dean died, and you'd seen the flicker of desperation in Sam's eyes before he left, a desperation that morphed into something colder, harder.

Sam had become increasingly reticent lately, spending more and more time huddled over his phone in hushed conversations with Ruby. Out of all the people—if you could even call her that—Sam chose to trust her over you. You who have been by his side forever. You who have loved him ever since. He’d brushed off your questions about her, your comments, claiming that if anything she knew more about Lilith and hell, more than you ever could. But the way his demeanor shifted whenever he ended those calls, a mixture of guarded hope and grim determination, made you doubt his explanation, made you doubt him.

Today’s lead was different. There was a frantic edge to Sam’s voice when Ruby called, a rawness that had you rushing to the motel window as soon as the Impala’s roar faded into the night. Now, you paced the tiny room, Dean's worn leather jacket slung at the foot of the bed, his scent clinging to it a faint comfort in the harsh silence of the room, a constant reminder of your fruitless search to avenge the older brother. A choked sob escaped your lips, the sound echoing through the empty room.

Where was Sam? What was going on? Could you really trust Ruby? A million questions swirled in your mind, threatening to drown out the faint hope that flitted within you. Your eyes settled on Sam's unmade bed, his blanket unkempt and his pillows askew. But before you could reach for it, to fix it—the man deserved a clean bed to lay down on—the door creaked open, and Sam walked in, his hair dripping from the rain.

Relief washed over you, momentarily erasing the apprehensions that had been churning in your stomach. "Sam!" you exclaimed, rushing to his side. "Did you find something? Anything?" you finally asked, the silence pressing down heavy.

He looked at you, his face etched with weariness, but there was a speck in his eyes that hadn't been there before. A hint of something you couldn't quite define. "Maybe," he said, a tight smile playing on his lips. "We might be closer than we think to killing Lilith."

His words were a ray of light in the darkness, but you couldn't shake off the unease that lingered. As Sam pulled you into a hug, the damp chill of his clothes did little to dispel the coldness that had settled around your heart. There was something more to this story, a secret Sam was keeping from you. And you knew, with a bone-deep certainty, that whatever it was, it had the potential to change everything.

You clung to Sam, desperately trying to ignore the unsettling chill radiating from his body. His embrace felt different, tighter, almost frantic. You pulled back, searching his eyes for answers, for the warmth you used to find there.

"Sam," you started, your voice a modicum of a whisper, "what happened?"

He nodded, avoiding your gaze. "We… I think I might have a lead this time, a good one." He rummaged in his jacket pocket, pulling out the half-empty vial you had just noticed stuffed in his pocket. Your breath caught in your throat.

"What's that?" you managed, your voice trembling.

"It's… something Ruby gave me," he mumbled, his eyes flickering back and forth between you and the vial. "It helps me do things, you know, fight demons." He offered you a strained smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"What?" you continued, holding your breath. "What do you mean? Does it work like holy water? I-I don't... I don't understand."

A wave of nausea washed over you. It's not what you think it is—you hoped it wasn't what you think it is.

Demon blood.

Demon blood, and the power it granted people, but also the terrible price it exacted. You knew—Sam knew firsthand—about it. You wouldn't be here today hunting those sons of bitches if Sam wasn't fed that stupid thing all those years ago. Sam knew the consequences, and yet.

Sam, fueled by grief and a desperate need to to exact revenge for Dean, wasn't immune to its allure.

"Sam," you pleaded, your voice heavy with concern. "Are you sure about this? Ruby… I think you should stop this. Stop this madness."

He wavered, then set the vial down with a sigh. "Look, I know you're worried," he said, his voice softening a touch. "But this is the only way. We can't just sit here doing nothing."

"There has to be another way, Sam," you insisted, reaching for his hand. You could feel the tremor in his fingers, a cold confirmation of your suspicions.

"There isn't," he said, his voice hardening. "This is what it takes. I have to avenge Dean, I promise. We just have to…" his voice trailed off, his eyes flicking to the vial again, a flicker of desperation crossing his face.

"Sam," your voice sounded shaky. "Stop this. You're scaring me."

He finally looked up, his eyes resolute. "I need to do this. I can't just sit here."

"And you think demon blood is the answer?" Your anger flared, hot and sharp. You knew the stories, the dangers. He knew himself and both of you knew Dean wouldn't want this.

"It helps," he muttered, his voice flat. "It keeps me focused, keeps me going. It makes me strong"

You knew that wasn't entirely true. You'd seen the way his eyes gleamed after he was with Ruby, a feverish energy replacing his usual stoicism. You'd seen the way he flinched from touch, the dark circles under his eyes deepening. It was more than focus, it was dependence.

Anger turned to a deep well of sorrow. You loved Sam, a life tangled with his amidst the chaos of their hunter's life. Now, that love felt choked by his descent into this dangerous territory.

"Sam, if we lose you too…" your voice cracked. You reached for his hand, but he pulled away, his eyes filled with a cold, angered flicker you didn't recognize.

"You won't," he said, his voice infused with a dangerous power. "We can't give up on this. Not now, not ever."

The venom in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. "Isn't this giving up?" you challenged, your voice barely a whisper. "You're literally taking something from the monsters you've been fighting your whole life! To do what? Fight them? You're sacrificing yourself on a gamble!"

He looked away, jaw hardening, staring daggers at the wall behind you.

"Have I ever given up on you, Sam?" You broke down.

He shook his head, but wouldn't meet your gaze.

"No, never," you pressed on, sniffling. "Then don't force me to do it now. Don't make me watch you do this."

The silence that followed was heavy with a finality neither of you wanted to acknowledge. You reached for him again, but this time, he didn't flinch. His hand was cold and foreign in yours, devoid of the warmth you used to know. His eyes, once filled with love and pain, were now blank and unfriendly.

"We'll find Dean," he said, his voice cold and devoid of emotion. "But it won't be us."

A single tear escaped your eye, tracing a warm path down your cheek. You nodded slowly, stunned at how easy it was for the man you loved to choose someone else, to choose Ruby—demon blood—over you.

You watched as Sam grabbed the vial, a chilling smile dancing on his lips. As he tipped back his head, the love you held for him turned to a hollow ache. You were losing him, piece by agonizing piece, to the very thing both of you hunted on almost a daily basis.

There would be no fight for Dean together.

There would be no us.

You were left alone, a solitary figure in the flickering motel room, the only witness to the anomaly Sam was becoming.

[dollypopup]

Forgive the rant, but it's been weighing heavy on my heart. So much of the speculation of the Lady Whistledown reveal is the nail biting of 'Oh, I hope it's not too bad for Pen!' or justifying how her actions as LW actually weren't that bad in hopes to minimize the fallout

But there seems to be so little care to the fact that Penelope hiding it from him is going to break Colin's heart.

He is so elated to be with Penelope because he feels like this is the one person he can truly unmask with, that he can reveal all his cards to, and be accepted, and he is going to realize that is a one sided feeling in his relationship. Not only did Penelope feel she couldn't unmask in the past, but she feels she cannot do so even after their engagement. Even after he has reassured her of how much he cares for her and how much he trusts her.

I know everyone wants to skip over the angst of it and get to the 'oh look, they're so happy in love!' but y'all

Penelope is going to hurt him. He put his heart in her hands and she's going to crush it. He's going to have to look in the eye the fact that she didn't trust him enough to inform him of this very large part of her life, and he's going to understand that she kept it from him purposefully. Yes, she has her reasons, but like. . .that's painful. It's a slap in the face. Is it fully understandable her not telling him right after he asks? Or before? Of course! A lot happened! She had the most intimate experience of her life in the back of that carriage, and she'd gone through a lot of ups and downs that night, but after that excitement simmered and she had a chance to breathe, she should have told him.

But she doesn't.

Worse, she decides he simply doesn't have to know.

The fact that Eloise has to put an ultimatum on it at all is proof of that. Colin is falling in love with half of Penelope, and she's making it so that he does so on purpose. She is actively hiding half of herself from his eyes, and regardless of reason, when one party of the relationship is open and vulnerable, and the other is secretive, the secretive party is doing their partner a disservice.

Right now the person who has poured the work into the relationship is Colin. He has confessed his feelings first, he made all the big moves, he openly declared his interest in her, he proposed, he proved to her that he finds her desirable, he has hit every single love language in the BOOK. He's said repeatedly how wonderful she is, he's given her an engagement ring, bought them a house, he's chased down her carriage, he asked for those lessons to spend more time with her, he's had physical touch aplenty.

But I feel like so much of us as an audience are riding on the fact that we know Penelope has pined for Colin for a long time, and not understanding that Colin does not know that. And even if he does, she has not shown him that she loves him.

And I need to see Penelope pour into him an equitable amount as he's poured into her. They're both two people who embody 'I want to be so full of love, I forget what it's like to be hungry', and we forget that both of them have been denied affection. This fandom sympathizes the most with Penelope to the point where we don't want to see that Colin has also been pushed to the wayside. This man is starving for love and romance. Not just to love, but also to be loved.

People forget that Colin has been denied affection from his family, from his sexual experiences, even from Penelope. She didn't write back to him the same way his siblings didn't. Colin has been disparaged in his household, too. He's been made to feel like a burden, like he has no right to family funds, hell, he was all but called a pathetic virgin in Season 1 by his own brother, the head of his household, and his mum and Daphne and Anthony all assumed that he needed his messes cleaned up for him and he says aloud no one takes him seriously.

I want to see Colin be loved. I need to see it.

It's not a scorecard, I get that, but if you look at it objectively, Colin has done so much in his relationship with Pen, and she's lying to him. She's keeping from him a secret that reinforces what others have said of him: that he's gullible, naive, too trusting, someone that needs his muck ups solved for him, just a foolish boy caught up in his fantasies. And when the truth of Penelope's deception comes out, and he's going to question if all those people were right all along, and questioning his trust in himself (because, mind, this is the second woman who has said she loves him and has been keeping a huge secret from him, if that happened to me, I'd be closing my heart off for a very long time), he's going to need her to mend the wound that she'll pry open.

Colin said a hurtful thing about Penelope in Season 2, and then spent Part 1 of Season 3 soothing the pain that caused her. Now, Penelope is doing a hurtful thing to Colin, and she will have to heal that hurt, too. He is a tender, soft-hearted person who trusts her completely, and is falling arse over elbow for her, only to then get tripped up on her own web of wires and do a barrel roll in the dirt. And I know they'll choose each other, I know.

But after she helps him up, I need to see Penelope romance Mr. Bridgerton, assuredly, fervently, loudly.

Because he deserves to be.

[starringthesturniolos]

bite me(part 6)-Matt Sturniolo

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

summary: matt hates your guts but all of that changes when he wakes up and finds out your his mate.

contains: vampire!matt x reader, highschool au! (18 years old), dark themes, death, smut (not in this part)

A/N- THIS CHAPTER IS KINDA SAD but y'all will be alright, trust. a lot of violence in this chapter so by all means if that is not your thing please don't read. I want everyone that reads this to ENJOY it. love yall, bye!

matts pov.

the drive back to my house was silent. even with my heightened sense of hearing, I could only hear the sound of our breathing and the quiet hum of my engine. two minutes ago, she had been crying and I saw into the darkness that was her life. key word, was. between the protection spell and me, no one is ever going to hurt her again. a dark thought pops into my head, and ,unlike any other time, I welcome it with open arms.

"do you want him dead?" I mutter, letting the thought free. I said It quietly, but it sounded like I might as well have screamed compared to the quiet of my car. it made my skin crawl and judging by the look on her face, it made her's crawl too. "what is that supposed to mean??" she whips her head to me with fear in her eyes. merciful. I added that to a list of chracteristics that y/n had that I subconsciously accumulated in my own head. even though he hurt her in the worst ways, she'd never want anyone to lay a finger on him.

"he's my dad, matt!" she panics taking my lack of response as a promise that I would go back to her house and finish him off. I put one arm up in defense. "I was just asking. you panic too much, someone should go check your blood pressure.Jesus." I scoff, playing it off as if I wouldn't have gotten rid of him the moment she told she wanted me too.

she slumped back in her seat, clearly relieved. its right then that I notice the dark circles under her eyes. she's tired, and humans need rest. "go to sleep, you look like shit." I quip. if she were in her right mind, she probably would have said something back. instead she brings her knees into her chest and puts her head on the window. her eyes close and in a few minutes her breathing and heart rate slow. she's asleep and my eyes stay on the rough, pot - hole infested road. all the way home, I dodge the holes so she sleeps fine.

unreasonable fear hits my chest at my own actions. when did you start to care so much? is the question I ask myself as I gently lift her sleeping form into my arms to bring her into the house.

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

y/n is in the other room, and I wake up to my phone buzzing incessantly. I pick up my phone to see that nick is calling me. "he disappears off the face of the earth for two days and all of a sudden he wants to chit chat at the crack of dawn", I think to myself before smashing the accept call button in annoyance. "what?" my gruff voice answers in a more than grumpy tone.

"I need you to come to meet me, now! I'll send you my location. do not bring anyone with you, and do not to take your sweet ass time either matt." he says seriously. I can hear in his voice he is fighting to keep himself from sounding panicked. sensing the danger he's in, worry surges through me, and I can't help but wonder what he's gotten himself into. "don't worry nick, im coming." I say back just as seriously before hanging up the phone and rushing out the house.

I drive over as fast as I can to the unknown spot. it's just a clearing of trees and grass where two cars are parked side by side. ones nicks' and the other is someone's I don't recognize. I hop out of the car quick on high alert. nick where are you??

"you think you can just take my daughter and get away with it. I'm sorry son, but you're in for a real treat." says a terrifying voice that-unless god forbid I took another girl to my house tonight- could only be y/n's fathers’. I turn slowly to see him, a tall, burly man. he's holding nick close too him, a knife pressed lightly against the sensitive skin of his neck. regulary, I would look at this and shrug, vampires aren't supposed to be able to die. but nick's neck is bleeding from where the knife lightly grazes him. vampires can make other people bleed, but they themselves can't bleed, at least that's how it's supposed to be. even though the wound wasn't deep enough to be lethal, the wound itself was the problem to begin with. All thoughts aside, I lunge forward to grab nick away from the man but he dodges with unnatural speed. he smells human, but he's quick, too quick, which can only mean one thing.

y/n's dad is a fucking lunatic magic user, and, based on the position he's got me and nick in right now , he's a damn strong one too.

he throws nick to the side right then, and nick flops to the floor gasping for breath and clutching his bleeding throat. I freeze in fear for what's happened to nick. for what is going to happen to me. he waves the same knife he had pressed against nick at me in tauntingly cold, cut motions.

"matt, run" nick says weakly. my feet listen to nick's instructions, and I turn to bolt, only to find the powerful magic user right in front of me in an instant. before I can react, he plunges the knife into my stomach in three quick motions. unbearable pain laces through me and I feel something coming that I never thought I'd ever have to experience. that something is death.

"should of asked for a protection spell yourself." he lets out a cold, hard laugh as I drop to the floor slipping into an abyss of darkness.

@bbernard-03

@sturnthepot

@hoeformatt

@sturtriple16

@faygo-frog

@sturniol0s

@katie-tibo

@cindylcuwho

@I34n

@chrissv4amp

@sturnslimited 

[strongheartneteyam]

[ credits of the Neteyam pic go to @cinetrix ]

Champagne Problems

Part 5

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!human!reader

CW: reader sees neteyam with another girl and gets jealous, a lot of angst, a flashback that tells u more about reader's past and why she acts in such a distrustful way, reader tries to deny to herself that she has feelings for neteyam but she realizes she does like him, heartbroken reader, tense encounter between neteyam and reader, TRIGGER WARNING for family issues, parental verbal abuse, mentions of death of a family member, mourning, studying too much as a coping mechanism, allusions of possible alcoholism, low self steem, isolating as a coping mechanism. Tell me if I'm missing anything!

Hi, loves! I don't have time to fully proofread this chapter rn so I hope things are alright lol In this chapter you guys will hopefully understand why reader is so fucked up in the head and follows her trust issues like they are the voice of truth 🥲 Have patience with my poor girl, I promise she's a bit insane but she's good. Anyways, hope y'all like this chapter! I love all of you and as always, I'll say THANK U SO MUCH for all the love and support I receive from you guys everyday. Means the world to me and makes me feel loved 🥺🤌🏻🥲💕 Comments will be incredibly appreciated by me so feel free to leave me some feedback down below!! <3

Slightly proofread.

Part 4 : Now she got your heart so I feel stupid, foolish, afraid

𓇼

Hit me like a shot in the heart

Never shoulda played you so hard

Guess I played myself, that's my fault

I don't even know how to think

'Cause now she got your heart so I feel stupid, foolish, afraid

I'm losing everything I thought I couldn't

My whole world is falling apart

I DO (G-IDLE)

𓇼

You had just gotten back from a long talk and an awesome breakfast with Adeline and Kate - no Pandoran food this time, you guys had already eaten way too much alien food the night before at the Metkayina beach party, and now, all you guys wanted to help with the hangover was burgers and coke and that's what the three of you ate. Some good human food was always great to remind a scientist living on an alien Planet of their humanity. 

You were hanging out in Tsireya's and Lo'ak's marui. It was getting near noon and you had been talking to Tsireya for a good amount of time, while Lo'ak was out fishing with Rotxo and Ao'nung. You wondered if they were gonna pick up a stupid fight with each other over something small and stupid, like who got a fish first. Lo'ak and Ao'nung had become friends with time but they would always be a little bit of frenemies too. You thought that was incredibly idiotic but still funny as hell.

You said goodbye to Tsireya and thanked her for the yellow flower she had adorned your hair with. She was a sweetheart, so kind, always doing things for other people. You really liked that alien girl's company. You could connect to each other really well even if the both of you were from completely different species. She was one of your good friends and one of the few people in the world you trusted because you were always one to read people well and you could see Tsireya's smiles and good deeds were not just a facade to seem like a perfect girl and make people love and admire her. Even though she seemed too perfect, too good, she was truly what she seemed to be. Not perfect, because nobody is, but truly a good girl. She was full of kindness and a need to help others had been planted deep inside her right before she was born (by Eywa, if you were to talk like Kiri did) and she would always follow that call. Tsireya was an open book and you liked that. Those kinds of people are easy to trust.

You stepped out of the door, hungry, feeling your stomach hurt. Starving would be a better way to describe it.

The wind was gentle and it had a higher temperature to it than it had early in the morning, back when Neteyam held you in his arms. That thought sent a shiver down your spine and made your heart start to beat faster and hurt, simultaneously, but you did your best to send that thought the farther it could go. 

The sun was shining really bright in the Pandoran sky, not many clouds around to make the temperature a little less hot. You felt a little stream of sweat dripping down your forehead and used the back of your hand to quickly dry it.

You were heading over to the marui that you, Adeline and Kate were sharing. You wondered if they knew what you guys were gonna eat for lunch. You needed food more than you needed air at that moment. You all worked as scientists and were the humans that were called "loyal to the na'vi". The three of you were in Awa'atlu because of the party - the Metkayina were famous among the na'vi and the humans for throwing unforgettable beach parties - and would stay for a little more time because traveling that far just to go back the next day made no sense at all. You and the girls would soon be heading back to Hell's Gate.

You walked through the Metkayina beach with your head down, looking at your feet getting covered by the tiny grains of sand. Once you looked up, you saw Neteyam talking to Munì. She was joyfully laughing at something he was saying but you couldn't hear what it was, since you were a good amount of meters away from them. You felt a stabbing feeling creeping up on you. Jealousy.

Damn. It could not be real. You could not be feeling jealous of Neteyam. That feeling was bad news. You could not be that attached. Fuck, no!! You were the one who dumped him, dammit. He was now moving on. Great for him. Why the hell did you even care? "I gotta stop being stupid" you thought to yourself. But your heart just would not stop hurting.

Munì was gorgeous and she treated Neteyam so nicely. The girl seemed to be head over heels for him. But again, it was not hard to see a girl acting like that when around Neteyam. One time you had heard Lo'ak saying that he was like a flame and the girls - na'vi or human - were like a Pandoran winged insect that loved light, be it coming from bioluminescent plants or from fire. Those extraterrestrial insects behaved in a similar way to how an insect called moth that used to live on Earth but was, unfortunately, extinct behaved.

Munì truly seemed to be a nice girl. She was na'vi, too. Of course she would be better for Neteyam than you could ever try to be. Neteyam was right to finally give her his attention. You would never be good enough for him and you knew it. If you had accepted being his mate, soon enough he would see how broken and messed up you truly were and he would fall out of love.

As you looked away as fast as you could, pretending you saw nothing, and kept walking towards the place where your girlfriends would be waiting for you, you had one of those weird moments where you seemed to be taken back to the past. It was so insanely uncomfortable but you never seemed to be able to control your own brain and keep yourself safe and sound at the present. You would always go down that same bitter path of painful memories. 

After your little sister died in a car accident, everything changed. You saw no reason to stay on Earth anymore. The only family you had that you felt actually cared for you and you could connect with was gone. The pain felt unbearable, like it tore your chest apart everytime you remembered you would never be able to hug Tracy again. That's when you made up your mind for real: your major would be Exoscience.

"Why would you go to that Planet?! It's dangerous, (y/n)!"

"Oh really, father? And staying here on Earth is really safe, right? A dying Planet! I am a scientist, I've been studying for it for years and I told you and mother I was gonna go to Pandora one day to study the Planet and help the na'vi. Did you think I was just kidding?!"

"So you're just gonna abandon your family to go help some stupid aliens and never come back? Is that it?"

"Yes, father. That's exactly it! There's nothing for me here. You and mother have abandoned me a long time ago. Just because you're still around it doesn't mean you're actually there for me. You're blind if you can't see it."

"You fucking ungrateful girl!" Your father screamed at you, which made you flinch "Just go then. Let's see how long you're gonna survive there, all alone. Just wait until those aliens decide to turn against you. You can't trust them. You're never gonna be an equal in their eyes. You're always gonna be human, an enemy. You'll never be safe in Pandora as you're safe here on Earth. But it's your choice. You're a grown up as you always say, right?!" He smirked "Go follow your dreams, daughter. But don't try and ask us for help when you see that those dreams turned into nightmares."

"I'm not gonna be alone there. Adeline and Kate are going too." You said confidently 

"Friends are not family." Your father harshly stated as he looked at you in disappointment seasoned with a little bit of disdain

Everytime you remembered how your parents would treat you back on Earth you would feel like someone was squeezing your heart hard, trying mercilessly to make it explode inside their hands.

Their cruel words taught you that you had to learn how to face the world completely on your own, you couldn't count on anyone and you certainly should not trust anyone easily. You trusted your parents when you were a kid and they told you they loved you and that they would always be there for you but as soon as you dared to make a decision on your own, going against the plan they had for your life, which was to stay on Earth and go to medical school, they abandoned you. Though you never wanted that for you, it seemed like your parents didn't love you for who you were, they only loved the version of you they created in their minds, the good daughter who would always obey her parents, even after she was an adult, the good girl who would always behave like everybody wanted her to, who would never even dare to dress in a "weird way" that would bring too much attention to herself because "what about what people will comment?" like your mother used to say.

You got so fed up with all of it that you just decided to study as hard as you could so you could get away from that Planet and be a great scientist. You had always felt drawn to the stars and the moon, ever since you were a child. Maybe that was the way the Universe found of letting you know that there was much more to see and experience than what's on the planet you had been born in. You decided you shall go nearer the stars you could watch from Earth, like the ones in the constellation known as The Archer.

You studied your ass off, didn't have much time for friendships, parties or leisure but you got what you wanted. Not without the help of half a bottle of wine everyday at 4 am, though. When you finally finished studying everything you needed to retain information about and would finally, that late in the am, try to relax and be able to fall asleep, the alcohol truly helped. It seemed to soothe you from the inside. It was calming and familiar.

You did regret pushing people away because all you focused on was your studies, though. You realized too late that the people you love - and love you back in a healthy way, not a toxic one - should come before your career. But crying over the milk that was spilled wouldn't fix anything. You can't go back in time but you can try and do better in the present and that's what you made a big effort to do nowadays. Now, you and your small group of close friends were inseparable and you were always there for your girls, like Adeline, for example. She earned your trust. She was your childhood friend and contrary to what your own family did, she never abandoned you.

Chosen family… you wholeheartedly believed in that concept.

𓇼

Later, when it was afternoon and you were hanging out with your na'vi friends - Tsireya, Rotxo, Ao'nung and Kiri - you realized Neteyam was walking towards the rocks you all were sitting at. He was talking to Lo'ak, the two brothers laughing about something. Neteyam seemed too distracted to notice you but when he realized you were there and everybody saw the way both of you tensed up at the sight of each other, the atmosphere around the friend group got filled with a bad energy. Nobody knew how to act.

Yeah, it wasn't just a saying. News truly travel at the speed of light in Pandora.

How the hell did they find out about the fact that you and Neteyam had hooked up? Did anyone see the both of you together and spread the word around?

You wondered if you would lose your friends because of what you did to Neteyam. You already felt like shit and couldn't stop thinking about how stupid you had been… you did not want to lose your friends too. You knew you had lost the chance to have a great guy be your partner.

At least you would still have your human girl friends. But you would miss your Metkayina friends, of course…

God, getting attached always got you in trouble! But you couldn't help it when it came to the na'vi. They were much more loyal than the humans, so, you trusted them easier. It was easier to make friends with an alien race than with your own race. What a joke that seemed to be.

𓇼

Taglist:

@iman-lu

@leaveitbythewave

@creepytoes88

@live-laugh-neteyam

@swaggygurlbae

@neteluvr

@layla2-49

@a-blog-name-2003

@lala-1516

@jakesullyfatjuicypeen

@yeosxxx

@iaratezaewa

[mellowdyverse]

the little things (2)

han yujin x f!reader , not proof read!! ending might seem sus but its NOT!! TRUST!!!! I REPEAT ITS NOT MEANT TO BE WEIRD AT ALL !!

it had been a few days since you started ignoring yujin. okay maybe few is a understatement, it had been exactly 1 week, 1 day, and 9 hours since you last spoke to yujin. was this killing you? yes but you were too stubborn to back down now. miwa had already placed a bet that you wouldn't last a day and now look at you. despite the agony of not talking to your favorite person in the whole wide world, you were doing better than you thought. on the other hand, a certain teenage boy was not.

"so you didn't even TRY to get close with her!?" gyuvin yelled in shock, he knew you and yujin weren't speaking but he didn't know why so when yujin finally spoke up after day 9, lets just say he had a jaw dropping surprise. "you're a wimp yujin, don't you realize she wants you to be clingy-" ricky begins before yujin groans and stuffs his face with more ice cream, "i know i know, you don't have to remind me, and what if thats not what she wants? maybe she just wants space." yujin mumbles, ricky rolls his eyes and walks over to where yujin is sitting. "Yujin, go to her house right now and communicate with her." Ricky says before dragging a jaw dropped gyuvin inside his apartment as it started to drizzle, thinking the younger boy was behind them.

when ricky told yujin to go to your house now he didn't actually think yujin would go right now, right now being 2:45 in the morning while it's pouring rain. so when you woke up to hear someone tapping at your 2nd floor window so early in the morning, your heart almost jumped out of your chest. "HOLY FUCKING SHIT YUJIN." you (whisper) screamed before running to drag him inside. "you haven't responded to my texts, i missed you... and i'm sorry for whatever I did." yujin says as he sits down onto your bed carefully, trying to not wake up your parents. you sigh before sitting down next to him, "im sorry too, i should've talked to you instead of ignoring you waiting for you to be give me affection.." you mumbled, stuffing your face into a pink glitter hello kitty pillow, yujin smiled at your flustered state before grabbing your hand. you looked up, surprised, but before you knew it

peck!

huh? you stared blankly at him before he looked away flustered and embarrassed. "you sly fu-" yujin hit you with a pillow before you could finish your sentence, where'd he even get that from!? "you little-" again, a straight slap in your face stopped you from finishing your sentence. yujin giggles as he sees your face going red and your eyebrows furrowing, "YOUR DONE." you say before hitting him with a pillow. the door opens wide, you both look at your mom before looking back at each other before looking back at your mom, "WAIT MOM I SWEAR HE'S JUST MY FRIE-" "i dont give a FUCK, i just want y'all keep it down for the LIFE of me."

WOMP WOMP!! anyways this is rlly rushed but its wtver!!

taglist: @bambisnc , @leehanascent , 🦕

[its-vannah]

Labyrinth | Jacaerys x Reader

A/N: This was so fun to write, y'all.

Warning: Death, arranged marriage, age gap, mentions of marrying young

Midnights Masterlist

You had spent nearly your whole life betrothed to Cregan Stark. Although he was quite a bit older than you—nearly seven years—your parents had agreed that it would be a good match.

Throughout the years, you had felt a sense of comfort in knowing what your future held. You were to be wed at seventeen, something your parents had insisted on as it was neither too young nor too old, with child before your twentieth name day, and a respected Lady of the House of Stark.

I'll be getting over you my whole life

But that all came crashing down when Cregan was killed in battle. For the first time in over a decade, you felt a sense of instability.

"It only hurts this much right now"

Naturally, your family still wanted you married off. After searching for and wide for a suitor, they settled on someone you never would have expected: Jacaerys Velaryon.

It only feels this raw right now

But you were devastated. You had grown to see Cregan as a friend. Although you hadn't been in love with one another, you felt comfortable in each other's presence, which was something not many Lord's and Ladies could say about one another.

That everybody just expects me to bounce back

On the way to Dragonstone, your mother had warned you not to dwell on things you couldn't change. Your heart broke at her words. You loved Cregan, couldn't she see that you were grieving?

Never trust it if it rises fast

Not daring to respond to her comments, you turned away from her, gazing out the carriage as you neared the castle.

Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out

The closer the carriage came to the castle, the more your heart began to pound in your chest. What if the prince wasn't looking for a wife? Would he even acknowledge your presence? What is he like? Is he kind of cruel?

All of these questions raced through your head as the carriage doors swung open.

The man who had opened the doors held out his hand to you, which you took gratefully as you climbed down the stairs.

Finally meeting the man's eyes, realization hit you: this wasn't a commoner, this was the prince.

He smiled gently at you, your hand still in his. Bowing, he pressed a kiss to the top of your hand, gazing up at you, "It's a pleasure to meet you, my Lady."

Was what I was thinking the whole time

As much as you hated yourself for it, grief practically went out the window at that moment. The kids he had placed upon your hand ignited a spark deep inside you. Never in your life had you felt the way you did in that moment.

Lost in a trance, you only snapped back to reality when he released your hand, introducing himself to your mother.

Still in a state of shock, you took a deep breath, looking around the courtyard.

It can't last

You could get used to this. But your mind was telling you it wouldn't last.

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

Queen Rhaenyra walked side by side with you in the gardens, a gentle smile on her face as you passed by countless rose bushes.

"Tell me, Lady Y/N, were you close with Lord Stark?" She asked, putting a sympathetic hand on your back.

You sighed, "We had become friends over the years, and I knew him well. I miss him greatly, but I wasn't..."

Trailing off, you remembered that she never asked you whether or not you loved him. So you refrained from sharing that bit.

"Wasn't...?" The Queen asked, "Did you love him?"

You know how much I hate

Damnit.

Shaking your head, you met her blue eyes, "No, my Queen, I don't believe I did. Not in the way a woman should love her husband. But as a friend."

She nodded, "I believe you'll find happiness with my son. Jace was good friends with Cregan, as well, so this hasn't been easy for him. But before Lord Stark passed, Jace promised him that he'd take care of you."

Just like that

Your head snapped towards her, "Why in Westeros would he do that?"

Rhaenyra laughed at your sudden curiosity, "My son is a man of duty and honor. He cares deeply for those around him, and he wanted to ensure that you would be taken care of, as he promised his old friend. He didn't want you married off to the next man offered his hand."

Lost in the labyrinth of my mind

Your head was spinning. Had he really done all of this to ensure that you wouldn't be married off to man who could care less about you, only your ability to provide heirs.

Reading your silence, a small smile spread on the Queen's lips, "I'm rather tired, Lady Y/N. I believe Jace is in the study I'd you'd like a word with him. I have some manners to attend to."

Patting your back once more, she turned and walked away.

You were beginning to like Dragonstone—but once again, your head warned you against getting attached.

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

Walking past two guards standing on opposite sides of the door, you cleared your throat when entering the study, "Pardon, Prince Jacaerys, but do you have a moment?"

The young prince turned towards you, the soft light from the window shining down on his face.

Smiling, he took a few steps towards you before sitting on the edge of his desk, "What can I do for you, my Lady?"

"I wanted to thank you."

He raised a brow, "For?"

How'd you turn it right around?

"The Queen told me of the measures you took to ensure I wouldn't be married off to someone who wouldn't provide or care for me," You explained, "It touched me to know that someone cared about my well being despite never having met me."

You would break your back to make me break a smile

"Well," He said, clearing his throat, "I know you now."

Crossing the room to stand beside you, you placed a hand atop his, "Really, my Prince, thank you. For everything."

He smiled down at you, "It was the honorable thing to do. And I stand by my choice. But I can't help but say I'm surprised."

"Surprised? By what?"

Jace bit down on his lips, "Cregan never told me how beautiful you were. How kind, observant."

Uh-oh, I'm falling in love

Heat spread across your cheeks at his comments, "I thank you, Prince Jacaerys."

Oh no, I'm falling in love again

"Call me Jace, please, we'll be wed soon enough."

Oh, I'm falling in love

A smile on your face, you nodded, "Thank you, Jace."

[artemisravencourtney]

Klaroline WIP Wednesday: Mixing all the Colors like we're Making a Monet ch2

Y'all asked for this. Partially inspired by @impossiblekryptonitecolor for piquing my interest in Sentinel AUs. This fic is not a Sentinel AU and you do not need any knowledge of Sentinel AUs to understand it, bit some of the underlying themes are there so if you them you might enjoy this too!

“You know love, I always thought champagne was our thing, but I’m starting to believe it might be clubs.” She doesn’t dare open her eyes, too afraid of what more sensory input would do to her, but the smell of cedar wraps around her like a blanket. She breathes it in, and the pounding of her heart slows enough that she can tune into his. It sounds just like it did in Miami, as unique as any fingerprint, and it’s enough to make her let out a sigh of relief, tension leaving her body like a marionette whose strings have just been cut. “Klaus.” She breathes, grateful for the respite. She feels the heat of him prickling near her hand, and grabs his own without thinking, tugging him onto the couch with her. He stiffens in surprise when she buries her face in his shoulder, fingers still interlocked with his, and she doesn’t even care if he has someone waiting for him right now, he’s here, right when she needs him, as he always is. Caroline needs something to ground her in reality, and if there’s one singular thing her senses can focus on, it’s Klaus Mikaelson. Ironic, given that she came here to escape him. With her burrowing into him the way she has, it’s easy to just focus on him. The cedar probably comes from the cologne he wears, because it’s easily the strongest smell, sitting right on the surface. She breathes deeper, still somewhat lightheaded from her momentary freak-out earlier, and she can smell the sharp scent of pine needles, ozone, and death. It’s both fitting and foreboding, and she wonders if the tingling she gets on her tongue when she’s with him really is chemistry, or if it’s a prey response from being so close to a man that screams danger in every foreseeable way. “Caroline, are you alright?” She feels him brush one of her curls away from her face, feels the silky (and undoubtedly expensive) fabric of his shirt on her cheek. If she was a cat she’d be purring. She knows she has about five seconds to answer before he gets impatient and flashes them out of here, witnesses be damned. Still, she’s having a hard time putting the problem into words now that the worst of it is over. “Too much.” She rasps out, trusting him to understand her the way he always does. He hums, and she focuses on the vibrations as she does her best to tune out everything but him. “Vampires have a tendency to blur the lines between regular lust and bloodlust, especially in settings like these. In fledglings, it can make their powers come to the surface against their will.” He pauses, shifting as he tilts her chin up gently. She’s barely had time to take in those stormy eyes she loves so much before he continues, minty breath ghosting against her face, “Your features haven’t changed, likely due to your impressive control, but we should still get you some fresh air.” She swallows thickly, head still swimming, “I think that’s a good idea.” He tells her to wait there and says something to the management, who have her confirm that she knows him (which she does via a picture from Miami that he’s clearly very surprised she kept), before handing her a bottle of water and sending them on their way, Klaus grabbing their coats on the way out. Enzo is going to be so fucking annoying about this.

[bridgetotheskyyy]

chapter two.

masterlist

Chapter summary: Gaara gives you a tour of Suna and Temari takes you shopping with ulterior motives . . .

Chapter warnings: hints of parental abuse, mentions of death and violence, threats

Word count: 12.9k

A/N: I truly hope this chapter exceeded your expectations. But, if not, I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. Next chapter (which I will try and drop mid-September, think September 15th. I'll let y'all know if there are any delays; I'm in the process of moving from the shithole I live in to somewhere hopefully nice, so fingers crossed!) we get our anime beach episode! Embrace yourselves!

Read on ao3 here

Your empty stare fixed on the equally empty stage. Shinobi dispersed into the crowd to initiate calm. 

To no avail.

“It’s an attack!”

“Oh, our poor Lord Kazekage …” 

“What’s happening?”

You didn’t dare take your eyes off the stage, now serving as your judge, jury, and executioner. If Gaara didn’t return, who else would be blamed? Who could blame them for blaming you? You had been the last to touch him. 

In your periphery, Chuuyou inched toward you. An apex predator ready to defend his cub. He would shed blood here tonight if it came to that. 

You swallowed a scream.

Had your father not trusted you after all and taken matters into his own hands? Did he have your innocuous gift swapped with something more deadly? The minutes ticked on. Oasis ninja clotted around you.

Your heart drummed in your ears as Baki reappeared. Silence fell, attention rapt as he took the microphone.

“Everything is all right!” he announced. “Lord Kazekage is not normally fond of alcohol and accidentally had the strongest liquor available tonight! He is completely fine.”

An universal sigh of relief; murmurs sounded, coated in a new tone as Baki’s words sank in. 

“Our Kazekage is so responsible!” 

“Not like his brother … you see how he was chugging those glasses earlier?”

“Oh, of course, yes …”

Your ninja relaxed as well, affording you space to breathe.

Tension wiped the strength in your legs; you collapsed into your seat. You were in the clear.

And … and Gaara was all right.

… Why did you care about that?

Baki abandoned the stage and joined the soothed crowd. You raced to compose yourself as he came toward you, the static of your nerves revving up in anticipation of what he would say.

“Are you all right —?”

“Yes,” You said with too much haste. You ironed out the fabric of your kimono to occupy your hands. “Is … is Gaara all right? Really?”

“He is.”

“… May I see him?”

You hung your head. You feared Baki’s face, the possibility of finding suspicion there, but when you lifted your gaze, his uncharacteristic smile had returned. 

“Of course,” he said. 

“So irresponsible!”

They had moved Gaara to the Suna Hospital for emergency analysis. Baki led you to his room. Gaara was bedridden, a wet towel on his head. Medical ninja fretted over him, plumping pillows and measuring his temperature, but they dispersed when they saw you coming. Temari was haranguing Kankuro in the corner.

“Gaara.” You came to the foot of his bed. “Are you all right?”

He opened a charcoal-ringed eye. “Yes. I apologize; I wasn’t thinking.”

“Lord Kazekage just needs some water and he’ll be right as rain,” came the soothing voice of a masked nurse.

Baki squeezed the space between his eyes; Temari was still berating Kankuro.

“I knew we should’ve been more careful!” she yelled. “You didn’t even try to help —!”

She beat him over the head with her fan.

“Ow! Temari —! Ah!” 

“That’s enough, Temari.” Gaara raised from bed. He removed his towel and looped it over his wrist. “I would like to return to the party.”

Temari paused. “But … but Gaara …”

“There’s still one more thing that needs to be done,” he said, “and I must ensure it happens.”

“Yeah, Temari,” Kankuro said, rubbing his head. “Stop embarrassing him in front of his future wife —“

He recoiled as Temari growled at him. 

She relaxed. “Well, If you’re feeling well enough …”

“I am.” Gaara was on his feet, approaching the door. He stopped to nod at the nurses. “Thank you for your care.”

The nurses had hearts in their eyes. “Ye — yes, of course, Lord Kazekage!”

The four of you returned to the halls of the party. The tension had left the party as it had your body. Warm applause greeted Gaara upon his reappearance. Cordial conversations flowed like unblocked rivers . The sky darkened enough to invite the blinking of stars. 

Gaara glanced over his shoulder to Baki. “It’s time.”

Baki nodded and hurried away. 

“What’s going on?” You asked. 

Gaara turned to you. “I was meant to present a gift to you as well.”

What? You blinked. “Oh …”

“I didn’t know what you would want,” Gaara went on. “And … I’ve been told I can give out rather strange gifts. I didn’t want to give you anything useless. I’ve prepared something nice instead.”

He led you to a tower, and the two of you climbed stairs to the top. At the top, a winged roof hooded over the reigning stars.

Gaara grasped the railing. “Come …”

You obeyed and stood beside him, waiting. 

Pop. A whistle. A white tip shot into the air. You tipped your neck skyward — an explosion of lights and color.

Fireworks …!

More scurried into the air to become sparkles of green, orange, red, and purple. The light of fireworks descended to illuminate the space between the two of you. 

“Gaara …” You stared in awe as fireworks mingled with the stars before tumbling into the desert. 

You were speechless. Had anyone ever done something so nice for you? No one. Not even Father. Especially not Father.

You grazed the necklace — that evil necklace — still swung around your neck, along with your mission culminating in its use. You lowered your gaze as crimson light cast on your skin. 

“(Y/n)?” 

You turned to Gaara. His small smile tipped the edges of his mouth. Your silence tempered it.

“Is this …all right?” he asked tentatively. “Do you like them?” 

Green replaced crimson, but you were immersed in the turquoise of Gaara’s eyes. 

Your mission became white noise as you smiled to assure him. “I … I love it … Thank you.” 

Gaara nodded. “I’m glad. I … hoped you would.” 

When he seemed content enough, you resumed marveling at the show, where fireworks of pure white blazed into the sky to rival the dazzle of stars. 

Dear Father,

I’m all settled in now. They’ve made things very comfortable for me. Your daughter is well. I want you to know that. They threw a party to honor my arrival — isn’t that nice? It’s been two days since — it went well. I don’t think anyone suspects anything. I haven’t seen much of the Kazekage, though; he’s been so busy since the party. 

I have a question to ask.

You never shared the full details of Hideo’s death with me. I suppose you thought I was simply too young when it happened and didn’t wish to traumatize me, but I need to know. Are you sure the Kazekage was responsible for it? I’m only asking because he is not what I expected. He is very kind to me and to his siblings. They seem to love him immensely. 

If you’re not sure, is it really necessary to go through with this plan? Wouldn’t it be more prudent to let things carry on as they are? Wouldn’t it be better for both of our villages if we let this marriage come to pass?

Despite the warm welcomes, I miss home, and I miss you.

Much love, (Y/n)

Baki had taken it upon himself to become your official caretaker, escorting you wherever and whenever you wanted to go. He led you to the Kazekage’s office. You looked forward to seeing Gaara, though you knew you shouldn’t.

Baki opened the door for you. You grinned; the cactus you had given Gaara now sat on his desk. One among many plants decorating the room. They livened up the place while circular windows ventilated the small space, granting all a shorthanded view of the village underneath. Towering buildings stood nearby. The windstorm had subsided, only a slight breeze trembling the lines of utility poles. 

Temari stood beside the Kazekage’s desk, looking unimpressed. At the sight of you, she managed a smile.

“Good morning, (Y/n). Hope you slept well.”

“I slept great, actually!” You said. “Gaara’s put his gift on his table, I see.”

The desk chair swiveled to reveal Kankuro flinging his hands out.

“Surprise!” 

You blinked, confused. 

Silence. 

“What’s happened?” You asked. 

“Nothing good, I promise,” Temari deadpanned. 

Kankuro’s enthusiasm deflated with a sigh. “There’s been a new arrangement.”

“Kankuro’s decided to step in and substitute as Kazekage for a few days,” Baki said, “so you and Lord Kazekage can get to know each other.”

“That’s a great idea!” You said. 

Free time with Gaara? One thought collided with another: would this give you time to accomplish your mission? Anxiety coupled with dread became acutely aware of your necklace sitting against your chest.  

You wanted word from your father first before you proceeded. And still … It was much too soon to try to make a move. 

“Um, where is Gaara?” His name sat sacred on your tongue, blasphemous to utter aloud.

“He’s in a meeting right now,” Baki said as the door opened and a servant entered, “as he won’t be taking part in them for a while.”

“What —“

“Here are the papers for today — uh, Lord Kazekage.” The servant dropped a stack of paperwork on the desk, now belonging to Kankuro. 

He smirked. “Heh, thanks, but I’ll need my morning coffee as well. How am I supposed to work without my coffee?”

The servant gulped. “Yes, right away!” He scurried out the door. 

Kankuro leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. “I could get used to this.” 

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Temari huffed. “It’s only temporary.” 

You chuckled. You had grown to like the Sand siblings tremendously. Being sequestered in the sand palace with them was not as miserable as you had imagined; the stories, the bickering, the atmosphere of a home lived in. It was like having a sibling of your own again … 

You returned to your inquiry. “What is the council concerned with?”

“Oh.” Baki cleared his throat. “It’s concerning … the festivities a few days ago. Gaara’s incident.”

“Oh.” Bad news. What had caused Gaara to drink so much in the first place, you wondered? Was it you? Had you distracted him? Would the council blame you for what happened, though Gaara hadn’t?

Kankuro winked. “Afterward, he’ll be giving you a tour of the village.” 

You wiggled your eyebrows. “Oh, really?” 

“There’s just one thing.” Temari faced Baki. “Why weren’t you chosen to serve as a substitute for Gaara?” 

“Gaara recommended Kankuro personally,” Baki explained. “He trusts Kankuro — he’s also very good with people, should the need for such a skill arise.”

“What?” Temari placed her hands on her hips. “And I’m not?” 

“You are marrying a Leaf shinobi in a matter of months,” Baki replied. “We believed that would cause some … issues.” 

Temari’s cheeks reddened. She wilted into herself. “Oh, right, well …

“In the meantime,” Baki turned to you, “I will be chaperoning you and Gaara during your tour.”

“I see,” you said.

Kankuro scoffed. “Like my little brother needs a chaperon.” He raised his head proudly. “My gentlemanly little bro.”

“You’re completely right, though  …” Temari giggled into her hand. “You probably need one more than he does.”

“Maybe so … Hey!” 

More time passed, during which Kankuro made more demands, sending servants out as quickly as they came in.

You giggled into your sleeve as an anger mark sprouted on Temari’s forehead, growing ever larger by the second.

“What’s next, Kankuro?” Temari gritted her teeth. “Free ice cream?”

“You read my mind!” Kankuro shot a finger into the air. “For everyone! And the Suna library’ll have an Icha section! We’ll keep Jiraiya-sensei’s memory alive by —“ 

Temari hit him over the head, and Kankuro fell over the desk. 

“Can you at least pretend to take this seriously?”

Your perked, interest piqued. “Hm? Did you say the Icha Icha series?”

Their heads turned to you in mortified silence.

“How …” Baki looked like he had seen a ghost. “How do you know about those books, Lady (Y/n)?”

“Oh, I love them! All the ladies read them in court! And you know the author? How amazing —!“

“You’re allowed to read them?” Temari said.

You tilted your head, confused. “Of course. My father recommended it … why are you all looking at me like that?” 

They all stared at you, wide-eyed and in horror. 

“Did I … say something wrong?” 

“No, you didn’t.”

A fresh voice. Gaara entered, wearing a faint smile. 

“And yes,” he said. “We did.”

“Gaara,” You grinned. “Long time no see.”

You were genuinely happy to see him and, maybe, it was all right to be — for the time being. Until your father returned your letter, you would let yourself be.

“Yes. I’m sorry I was away for so long.”

Hope laced your fingers together. “Are you saying you’ve read the books, too?”

Temari gawked with horror. Baki sighed over Kankuro’s snicker.

“Yes.” Gaara tilted his head, considering. “But I didn’t understand them. Perhaps you can —“

Baki cleared his throat unusually loudly. “Perhaps we should get a move on. You both have a big day ahead of you.”

“Right,” Gaara said. “I meant to tell you about what I had planned today. If that appeals to you.” 

“Of course it does!” You strode to him. “I’m looking forward to it!”

“Have fun, you two!” Kankuro waved you off beside a facepalming Temari as Gaara led you, like a gentleman, out the door.

Sunagakure made you eat your words.

The village sat in its giant crater, nestled away from wandering eyes, a maze of stucco and rough sand. The buildings shouldered the responsibility of weathering the sandstorms. The orderly streets and marketplaces left you feeling guilty about the footprints you left underfoot. Domed buildings stood squat and quaint. Come nightfall, the gift box windows would cast yellow gazes on you in the dark.

“It’s beautiful …” You said.

“You’re a long way from home, so this must be strange for you,” Gaara said.

In truth, you had always been under your father’s thumb. This mission had taken you out from under it and now you could breathe. No one stood analyzing your every move, ready to correct or chastise or worse.

“It’s …” You trailed as the three of you turned a corner. “Different, to say the least.”

 “I apologize for being away,” Gaara said. “I hope you’ve been able to settle in without any problems.”

His courtesy flattered you. “Thank you, but I was fine, really!” You debated sharing your next point. “I even sent a letter to my father telling him I arrived safely.” 

“Hello, Lord Kazekage!” 

You, Gaara, and Baki stopped to entertain the woman approaching, waving and smiling.

“Oh, hello, Yen,” Gaara said. “It’s been a while. Is the baby all right?”

Your head snapped to him. Yen. He knows her name? Your mouth hung agape; your father would never know the name of a villager, let alone the servants conditioned to scrub his palace. 

“Yes, she just started teething!” the woman — Yen — giggled. She noticed you. “Oh, and who is this?”

Another girl crept toward you. “That’s Lord Kazekage and Lady (Y/n)!” she squealed. 

Villagers crowded the three of you; déjà vu of the party nights before started you chuckling to yourself.

“Oh!” Yen said. “Your fiancée! A pleasure to meet you!” 

“The pleasure’s all mine, surely …” You mumbled. 

“Lord Kazekage,” another girl whined. “You said you’d come to my rehearsal!” 

“No way! He said he’s coming to our picnic!” 

“I’ve got him Sunday —“

“No, I do!” 

“Please, please, everyone.” Gaara raised placating hands, albeit with a smile. “I will honor all of my agreements, I swear it!” 

“You’re so pretty,” one girl cooed to you. 

“What’s the Oasis village like?” asked a man.

Baki hung over your shoulder. “I’m going to have to get the two of you out of here,” he whispered. “I’ll find a quieter street for the two of you to walk.”

You nodded, though you had no idea how he would manage this, what with the villagers ready to carry your fiancée away like some sort of handsome singer. “Understood.”

“What are you doing —?”

Temari squealed, shooting up from the side of your bed. 

“Oh.” She relaxed as Kankuro entered. “You scared the shit out of me. Have you ever heard of knocking?”

“I did knock.” Kankuro crossed his arms. “Twice.”

“Well, don’t!” she said before ignoring him to flip pillows and pop her head through the bed curtains.

Kankuro’s eyebrow twitched. “Temari. What are you doing?”

“Looking for clues.”

“Wha—?” Kankuro gawked. “Clues?”

“Yes, Kankuro. Clues. Hints, evidence — anything that could indicate a plot.” Temari rummaged through drawers. “I just know something’s up.” 

“You think (Y/n)’d have something where we could easily find it?” Kankuro asked rhetorically. “You think she has some assassination diary laying around that says ‘April 5th. The plan to kill Gaara’s going well. The onigiri was great last night, too’?” 

Temari paused. “A diary … I didn’t think of that.” She closed the drawer in favor of the bed. “Kankuro, help me flip this mattress over —“ 

“Temari,” Kankuro stepped forward, resigned to the fact he had been talking to himself to take Temari’s hand. “Stop. This is insane.”

She drew her hand away. “You know that man has it in for Gaara!”

“No, Temari, I don’t know that,” Kankuro said, blocking her access to your bed. “Stop shoving — ngh! — You’ve gotta let the past be the past —“ 

“Kankuro, move —“

“As sub Kazekage, I order you to stop!” Kankuro said.

Temari paused, surprised.

“That’s right.” Kankuro grinned, victorious. “You know you have to do as I say.”

Temari sighed. “Fine.” She thrust a finger in his face. “But this. Isn’t. Over.” 

She stalked from the room. Kankuro watched her go. 

“Yeah, I know it’s not,” Kankuro said.

Not fooling anyone, Temari; I know what this is really about …

Baki did the impossible and secured a vacant street where the two of you could traverse unmolested. But the villagers still took it upon themselves to wave at Gaara from their windows before retreating behind curtains. Baki fell behind to give you some alone time and, though you couldn’t see him, you knew Chuuyou was nearby, foreseeing everything.

“They love you,” You said as he waved back. “They absolutely love you.”

Color blossomed on Gaara’s face. “It’s quite a change … from when I was a child.”

“Did they all know you, then?”

Gaara lowered his hand. “Yes … albeit for a very different reason. I was a very lonely child. The Fourth Kazekage kept me … away from others.”

“I understand.” You chuckled. “I think being the child of a village head always leaves so much to be desired. My father wouldn’t let me have any friends growing up; he always feared plots against our family.”

Gaara lowered his gaze. He said nothing as the two of you came to a bridge. And for a second, you began to think you had misjudged his meaning when he continued —

“I was a very different person then, like I told you before,” Gaara said. “I had my uncle, Yashamaru, but I was feared by everyone else.”

You weren’t stupid. Gaara of the Sand Waterfall. The Beast of Suna. He must be alluding his savage reputation. Oasis shinobi spoke of the terrors of facing him if they were blessed enough to return to tell the tale. When the Fourth Kazekage sent Gaara out on missions to ravage his opponents, opposing villages, yours along with many others.

But still, wouldn’t he have been a little boy then? How could he have been so feared, even then? You were tempted to ask for more, but, fearful of overstepping your bounds, kept your mouth closed.

“There is a reason they treat me this way; I’ve worked hard to redeem myself in their eyes,” Gaara said. 

You came to rest beside the railing of the bridge, head tilted in interest. “What changed?”

A long beat before Gaara spoke again. 

“I met someone who showed me a different way of living. That … I could be precious to others.” Gaara squeezed the rail as if to ground himself, though you pretended not to notice. “After that, I wanted nothing more than to make the people of this village love me.”

His words set in as you studied his face. This was a man who took it upon himself to know the name of his villagers, who was gentle, kind … 

Respect bloomed in your chest. You … you admired him.

But how could you when …

“Lord Kazekage!” 

A little boy ran up the bridge, stopping at the hill of it. He leaned on his knees to catch his breath. 

Gaara stood upright, commanding. Kazekage. “What is it?” 

The boy perked. Something crumpled in his little fist. Something yellow …

He offered it to Gaara. A flower. 

“It’s for you!” he said. “My friends told me you were around the village, so I picked it myself!” 

Gaara took the flower and inspected it thoughtfully, as did you; a few of the petals lay bent and crinkled from the boy’s well-intentioned hassling, but the creases increased the flower’s beauty. Gaara looked down and smiled. 

“Flowers are rare in this village,” he said. “Thank you. I’ll cherish it always.”

The boy’s laugh was music as you approached Gaara. 

“Whatever you did to make them love you, I think it worked,” You whispered over his shoulder with a wink.

Color had returned to Gaara’s cheeks. He faced the boy. “Is it all right if I place it in her hair? I think it would look nice on a woman.”

“Sure thing!” the boy said.

You froze, stunned as Gaara fixed it in your hair. 

“You look beautiful, Lady (Y/n)!” the boy said. He scratched his head sheepishly. “I wanted to find one for you, too, but I couldn’t, hehe …”

“I’m sure she appreciates it,” Gaara said.

You touched your hand to the flower, gingerly feeling its soft petals against your hair.

Another voice, feminine, called a name. 

“That’s my mom,” the boy said. “Bye, Lord Kazekage!” 

The boy waved at the two of you as you said your goodbyes. Gaara turned to you.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

The grumble of your stomach gave away your ladylike position. “Hehe. Starving.”

“I know just the place.”

Kankuro tossed a page in his book as Temari opened the door with her back, carrying a new stack of papers. 

He looked up — and groaned, sinking into the chair. “You’ve gotta be kidding me! More papers? Ugh, my first day and I’m already exhausted …”

Temari steadied the stack on the desk. “You should read more, anyway … Wait.” She went bug-eyed. “Are you actually reading?” 

“Yeah,” Kankuro sighed, returning to his book. 

“It’s a miracle!” Temari cried. She nudged closer to sneak a peek at the pages. “What’s the book?”

“I sent for some books about the Oasis village,” Kankuro said. “I figured it’d be a good idea; maybe it’d help us bridge the gap between our villages if we knew more about each other. But …” Kankuro closed the book. “They’re so secretive. They’ve clearly gone to great lengths to hide the secrets of their oasis. Not that I blame them. But there’s nothing on it, really. Just historiographies of the village and some legends. Do you know any?”

“Uh, no?” Temari crossed her legs and leaned against Kankuro’s arm. “Just that they think the oasis was graced by some water spirit a hundred years ago.” 

“That’s not all.” Kankuro flipped to the pages at the back of the book to inspect its index. “Apparently, that water spirit blessed the village with an oasis after he defeated some beast who’d gone rogue.”

“Charming,” Temari deadpanned. “I was never much for fairy tales, though. What are you getting at?”

“The oasis is said to have special powers,” Kankuro said.

“I thought you couldn’t find anything concrete?”

“If you read between the lines, that’s really what they’re getting at.” Kankuro leaned back after having found nothing substantial in the index. “What if (Y/n) knows about it? Who knows what we might gain access to?”

Temari snorted. “Now you sound like you’re on the council.”

Kankuro stiffened. “Not what I meant. I don’t want to play their game; I’m not looking to use her or anything. Just … who knows? Maybe it has healing abilities or something? Maybe it can bring back the dead? The possibilities are endless. Aren’t you the slightest bit curious?”

“Sure.” Temari looked out one of the windows. “But, Kankuro, even if it’s real and —“ She cut him with a pointed stare. “— there isn’t some plot we’re unaware of. We’re not just enemies to (Y/n)’s village — we’d considered blasphemous to them. I don’t know how friendly they’d be to us poking around.”

“I don’t know …” Kankuro closed the book but eyed it still, interest lingering. “I’m going to see if I can find anything else, though.”

“Understood,” Temari said. “But let’s tackle the paperwork first. Promise?”

Kankuro’s eyes roved over the stack. He sighed. He abandoned his book for the first sheet in the stack. “Promise.”

The restaurant was placed in a canyon on the outskirts of Sunagakure. The place held intimacy, as it was sparsely occupied with a few lone couples. You could hear their excited murmurings from afar as the two of you ordered food. The icing on the cake was poor Baki, trying to pass off as a simple bystander while so obviously a guard meant to protect Gaara. The man looked so out of place, shuffling his feet on the sidelines, you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Maybe you should tell him to go back to the office,” You whispered to Gaara.

“He … insisted,” Gaara said.

Baki awkwardly crossed his arms and looked down the path of the canyon, playing as cool as he could.

“Kankuro told me about this place,” Gaara said, ostensibly to get your attention away from his uncomfortable former sensei. “He took a date here once.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes.” Gaara flattened a napkin. “Only, I don’t think it ended well … he said something about the girl pouring hot soup all over him.”

“Popular with the ladies, I see.” You giggled into your hand.

“This is a nostalgic place for our family, Gaara said. “My father took my mother here to propose. My uncle, Yashamaru, recommended it.”

You smiled. “You mention him often.”

“He taught me a great deal about love.”

 You leaned toward him. “He must be so nice.”

Gaara grew quiet.

“… he was.”

Your shoulders fell. “Oh. I see. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right.” Gaara picked up his glass to immediately put it down — perhaps wary of its contents. “He taught me love is … the heart’s desire to serve someone closest to you.”

A FAMILY of orators, then.

“The heart’s desire …” You ruminated. “That’s beautiful.”

“So when Kankuro showed me this place …” Gaara looked up at the canyon’s ledge; the lights strewn from one side to the other, while umbrella roofs shielded them from the heat. A blade of light whet the side of Gaara’s face. “And told me about how Yashamaru had my father bring my mother here, I couldn’t help but think of his words again.”

“I look forward to learning more about your village and your family,” You said, transfixed. “The other things I know have been enforced by the rivalry between our villages.” Something occurred to you. “I hope I didn’t get you into too much trouble.”

Gaara frowned, clearly in need of clarification.

“With the council, I mean,” You elaborated. “I know you had to meet with them today.”

“It was nothing I couldn’t handle,” Gaara said. 

A smile tugged your lips. Was he bragging?

“They feared the incident could make the Sand look foolish,” Gaara continued, and when you tensed with memory, he added, “but I was quick to remind them the party seemed much livelier after what happened. It would have been rude if I had chosen not to engage in the festivities.”

You fiddled with your glass. The idea of playing even a minor role in the reproachment Gaara received needled you with guilt.

“I agreed there wouldn’t be a repeat incident,” Gaara said. “They were also concerned about what could happen if your father heard. Lady Ikanago said he could take it as an insult.”

The mention of Father cast an extra shadow over the two of you, doubling with the umbrellas above your heads. “What did you say?”

“I told them this is only a problem because the Sand has built up a reputation for terrorizing smaller territories around it,” Gaara replied. He cast his gaze down. “I do not deny my part in that terrorization. It is why I keep Joseki on the council.”

Joseki. Memories of the man flooded your mind. 

“He doesn’t like you at all.” You said it as though it were not obvious, intrigued by what Gaara’s reply would be. 

“No, he doesn’t.” Gaara’s gaze remained on the table. “I do not want to forget about my previous sins, nor the pain I’ve caused. Joseki’s disapproval serves as a frequent reminder of both.”

You tilted your head, stupefied. He kept a man on his council who despised him; was he so dedicated to making amends?

Gaara lifted his gaze at last. “Kankuro has questioned my methods, but this is what I’m comfortable doing.”

“Did they — did they say anything else?”

“There was talk of securing important bloodlines — yours,” Gaara said. “To ensure the Sand is strengthened.” Gaara paused; he suddenly seemed so tired, like an article of clothing excessively worn. “I have to admit: With each passing year, I become more disgusted with the council and their asinine power plays … For years, we have accused Konoha of terrorizing smaller villages, involving them in bigger wars, meanwhile we do the same in secret.”

“Such is politics,” You quipped.

Gaara was not swayed by your show of cynicism. “Despite what you told me before, about you coming here willingly …” He grimaced. “I’m sorry you have been involved in all of this.”

You were silent, too stunned to reply. When all had been said and done, no one had asked you about how you felt to be shipped off to another village. You did what was expected of you. Why did he, of all people, care so much for your well-being?

He is your fiancée, is he not?

Gaara tried for a reassuring smile. “Enough about this. Tell me about your village, your family.”

Chills ran over your skin despite the heat of the day. You? What could you say? What could you safely share that wouldn’t incriminate you? You considered speaking about Hideo, but would you be able to keep your cool? And nevermind your mission — you were a sheltered daughter of a village head. You had no stories, nothing worth sharing.

You gripped the side of your glass, hyper-aware of Gaara’s expectant stare. “I’m afraid I can only tell you stories about other people I’ve known. Your love for your uncle has reminded me a bit of my love for my maid, Hahaoya.” 

“Your maid?” Gaara parroted. 

“I don’t mean it like that,” You implored. “She was like a mother to me. She was all I had after my mother had died. After we buried my mother, I had nightmare after nightmare. Her death destroyed my father. He said he had no sympathy for me … He said I should get used to having nightmares, to living without her. He would have to. So would I.” You pinched the tablecloth. “But Hahaoya was always there; she would sneak into my bedroom once everyone else had fallen asleep to sing me songs and tell me stories. She was my everything.”

Gaara stared. “… Was?”

Misery creased your face; you did nothing to conceal it. “Was. One day, she was serving me soup, and I got so sick off of it. It was a few weeks after my mother had died and I wasn’t eating regularly, so I’m sure I was only having trouble digesting it. But my father threw a fit, ranting and raving about how Hahaoya had sided with ‘the’ enemy and had tried to kill me. He had her banished from our village and when I confronted him about it, he said she’s lucky he didn’t have her killed.”

Your trained eyes on the table, now too afraid to look up at Gaara. You had said too much; you were sure, but you hadn’t been able to help it. Reliving the memory, you remembered how upset you were with your father when it happened. Hahaoya, your only source of peace in those times … Your brother had been there, too, but as a fully fledged ninja with missions stacked atop each other, not as much as he may have wanted.

Then he died, and you were left truly alone with your crazy father … 

Gaara’s hand squeezing yours bore you away from your thoughts. You looked up.

“I’m sorry.” Gaara’s face brightened. “Perhaps, when we’re married, we can find her for you.”

You froze. “Rea — Really?”

“Yes.” Gaara cupped your hand with two hands now. “I can dispatch a team to go looking for her.”

Your lips parted in awe. “Gaara …” 

Gaara studied you, and for a second it looked like he would inquire further into your past — 

“Here you are!” 

A waiter came bearing plates.

You withdrew from Gaara’s touch as the waiter presented dishes. 

“Tell me if you need anything else, all right?” 

“Okay …” You replied weakly.

The waiter left you two to eat. 

“Once you’re full, there’s something else I’d like to share with you,” Gaara said.

You gave him an are you kidding expression. “No more fireworks, Gaara.”

“No.” Gaara leaned from the shade and sunlight brightened his eyes. “Something I’ve been hoping to share with you since you came. Something very precious to me.”

“Kankuro — oh, for gods’ sake — wake UP!”

Kankuro shot from the desk, a sheet stuck to his face. 

“Jeez!” Temari cried. “Gaara never fell asleep at his work!” 

“Doubt it.” Kankuro plucked the paper from his cheek, now smeared in purple paint. “’Tis the kind of work that could even put an insomniac to sleep. I — wait, whose drool is this … Oh, it’s mine —“

“I’ve had just enough of your lack of concern. You have no sense of urgency for anything!” Temari said. “Show some initiative for once, would you?”

“Fine!” Kankuro snapped. “From now on, it’s your job to get close to (Y/n) and see if she can tell us anything about the oasis. Happy? How’s that for initiative?”

Temari blinked. “That’s … that’s a brilliant idea!”

“Happy to hear it.” Kankuro plopped into his seat. 

“In fact …” Temari continued, thumbing her chin. “I know just the thing! A girl’s day out! She won’t suspect a thing. I’ll have it all planned out. I’ll have us go …”

Kankuro zoned out, happy to know Temari was now distracted enough leaving the office, allowing him to go back to sleep.

Gaara’s greenhouse burst with green, plants sprouting from every corner and orifice. A mahogany desk and chair sat in one aisle where you assumed he did his work cultivating. Butterflies fluttered past while ladybugs crawled across the face of leaves. You giggled as butterflies neared, curious about the flower placed in your hair. 

“It’s beautiful, Gaara!” You cried out.

“Thank you,” he said from behind you. “We have another greenhouse where we grow plants to counteract poisons and other undesirable things,”

You admired a succulent on his table to deter your nerves. “Really?” 

“Yes,” Gaara said. “I prefer only to grow harmless things here.”

You heard him take a step and chose to change the subject. “Where’s the cactus I gave you? Oh, I remember, in the office!”

Gaara came to your side. “I enjoyed it so much I wanted it somewhere I would be sure to admire it every day.” 

Baki swatted a butterfly away. “Cacti have been Lord Kazekage’s main hobbyhorse for a while now.”

You inspected the cactus he had propitiated. Verdant green cacti complimented the desk, lined up perfectly. “You’re so good with them. I can’t grow anything!”

“I’m only a beginner,” Gaara said. “I’ve read books on different plants from around the world. I’m not even aware of all the cacti yet …”

You chuckled. “You could’ve fooled me.”  

“One day, I’d like to know about every cactus,” Gaara said earnestly.

An image of a wizened Gaara, surrounded by a museum of cacti, flared in your mind. You giggled.

“I don’t know much about them,” You said, grazing the petal of a succulent, “but maybe there are specimens which grow back home I can have sent to you!” 

Gaara’s eyes brightened. “You would do that?” 

“Why not!” You smiled at him. “Why cactus, though? Is it because they’re easy to find in the desert?”

Gaara’s eyes followed the fingers you had ghosting the succulent petals. “I thought it a nice change. To grow and allow things to prosper, as opposed to destroy, was humbling for me. It is very soothing. Though not much grows in the desert … I came to love planting and watering things.” 

“Apologies to the earth,” You remarked. 

Gaara considered you. “Apologies to the … earth. I like that.”

Baki caught your eye; he was considering you as if you had materialized anew.

“It’s a beautiful hobby you have,” You said. And adding, due to your respect for him, “Lord Kazekage.”

He blushed, shied into a collection of leaves. 

He’s so cute — he really is handsome.

A half an hour passed as Gaara showed you more of his plants — prickly pear (turned out this was the class of cacti you had gifted him), golden barrels, barbary figs, the darling peyotes reminding you of dumplings. He set you in his working chair and let you review the spreadsheets he kept to remember which plants needed watering and when (cacti were not desperate for water, so the schedules were spaced out through a period of days and weeks) as well as the books he read for research. 

“(Y/n) …?” Gaara’s voice was tentative behind you as you inspected an index.

You lowered the book. You knew what he would ask. “Yes?”

“You mentioned a brother,” he said cautiously. “A brother who died.”

You smiled in defeat. Did you think you could avoid the topic forever? How stupid.

“If you don’t want to talk —“

“No.” You turned to Gaara. “It’s okay. I can talk about it …”

Concern creased Gaara’s face, looking ready to accommodate your comfort. In your periphery, Baki’s face echoed the sentiment.

You toyed with the corner of a page. “He was older than me, and a great shinobi …” Hideo’s smile came to life in your mind’s eye, behind your eyes as you closed them. “My father’s favorite, obviously. But that was all right; Hideo always said I was his favorite.”

You fought to maintain your composure; Gaara would come to your side if you curled over in pain.

“There was a mission — it was meant to be incredibly dangerous. I don’t know the details. I was never told …” Your hand abandoned the page to fold in your lap with the other. “Even my father wasn’t sure if he should go, but eventually let him. Hideo insisted. He wasn’t afraid — he wasn’t afraid of anything …”

You shoved a tear away from your cheek. The skin reddened and ached there.

“I don’t know what happened after that,” You said. “He never came home. There was — there was nothing to bring back —“ Your voice clipped and broke. 

“Enough,” Gaara muttered, a hand slipping to your shoulder. “It’s all right. You don’t have to go on.”

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was wet. You sniffed. “I’m okay, really.”

Gaara’s gentle touches helped you to put your emotions back where they belonged. 

“Your brother sounds like he was a great man,” Gaara said. “We are lesser for having lost him.”

Your feelings gnawed and clawed for the surface. Did I forget to tell you my father thinks you killed him? And the only reason I’m here is to —?

You banished the thoughts with a jerk of your head.

“He was,” You said. “Thank you.”

An awkward silence, clogged with pain, followed.

“It’s getting late,” Baki remarked after a few seconds, studying the sky.

You followed his gaze. He wasn’t wrong; the heavens burned a deep orange, the blue of the sky retreating to darken into a near-black. You were no fool; Baki was saving the two of you from the suffocating silence. You caught his glance toward you before he quickly looked away. 

Correction: Saving you especially.

“He’s right.” Gaara’s hand lingered at your shoulder before withdrawing. “We should be heading back for dinner. The others will be expecting us.”

You nodded. “Okay.” You managed a laugh. “I’m sor —“

“Don’t ever apologize for having feelings,” Gaara interrupted, eyes soft on you.

You smiled as Baki opened the door to the greenhouse. Whether it was from the new source of air, or Gaara’s warmth, or both, the place was easier to breathe in. 

At the threshold, Gaara looked over his shoulder at you. “(Y/n)?”

“Yes?”

“You said you were a fan of the Icha Icha series,” Gaara replied, oblivious to Baki stiffening in front of him. “Would you mind explaining the books to me?”

Baki blanched with horror.

You fought a giggle. “I’d be delighted!”

“Well,” Kankuro’s voice piqued with interest, “it seems you two had a fun and eventful evening!” 

“Yes …!” Gaara said. “First we …”

You let him summarize the day. You were content to be off your feet; the walking had murdered your feet, and they screamed in salvation as you sat at dinner. Later, you hoped to run a bath so you could soak before bed.

You wondered how long it would take for your father to reply. Hopefully soon, because … you were losing your resolve. You were never alone with Gaara, nor did you share his bed. How were you meant to do this? You knew Father would either tell you something to push you over the edge and solidify your resolve or the whole thing would be called off. Secretly, you hoped for the latter. You had never been allowed to date before, and if this is what it was like for everyone, you understood why people raved about it so much.

You hoped nothing would be waiting for you tonight; you were tired. 

“That’s all wonderful,” Temari said hastily. “Wonderful, wonderful. (Y/n), how would you like to spend the day with me tomorrow?”

The boys lowered their forks to stare, Kankuro looking more in the know than Gaara.

“I’d be delighted, future sister-in-law!”

Temari giggled, waving you off. “Stop, you’ll make me blush.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Gaara said, turning to Kankuro. “And what about you? How was your first day as Kazekage?”

“I don’t know how you do it.” Kankuro leaned back and rubbed a balled fist in his eyes. “Thought the day was never gonna end.”

“It is grueling work,” Gaara said. “But it’s necessary work in order for the village to run smoothly.” 

“Hopefully, I’ll never have to do it,” Kankuro peeked at you. “You — you better give him lots and lots of kids.” 

“Kankuro!” Temari cried.

You went red. You had never even thought of having children with Gaara. You looked his way briefly before lowering your gaze to your meal.

“Speaking of which.” Gaara cleared his throat. “(Y/n) has been helping me understand Icha a lot more —“

Temari spit out her water. 

“I still have questions about —“

“Mm, Gaara!” You interrupted with a hand on his. “Maybe not at the dinner table, okay?”

“Oh,” Gaara said innocently. “All right.”

Four days later. No letter came for you.

It was the morning after last and every moment you spent holed up in your room was murder; you lay in wake for a hawk to come and throw a curve in your world.

Temari hadn’t taken you out yet, too tired after the dinner the night before last; the four of you had stayed up playing shogi, and she had been so excited about winning nearly every match she forgot about a curfew and fell asleep at the last moment, drooling over the carpet while the rest of you enjoyed yourselves. 

So, mostly, you stayed away from your room and spent time with Gaara and his siblings.

You liked them. You really, really liked them.

You frequently lost yourself in the beautiful turquoise of Gaara’s eyes, and when that wasn’t happening, Temari and Kankuro were pampering you or making you laugh, as much your siblings as Gaara’s, and when that wasn’t happening, Baki was treating you like a daughter, knocking on your door to ask you if you needed water or an extra blanket or helping you navigate your way through the palace or to the office. It all left you wondering if Father wasn’t … him. If this is what it was like to have a normal, sane man protecting you.

Friendship was alien to you. But this was even worse: this was a family. Despite their relation to the Kazekage and the responsibilities befalling them, they were a normal, loving family.

Still, you waited with chattering teeth and moist palms for the hawk you were beginning to hope would never come.

“What do you actually plan on doing with (Y/n)?” Kankuro asked, leaning against the door frame of her old bedroom.

“Shopping, of course,” Temari answered absentmindedly, making her bed.

“You don’t even like clothes,” Kankuro noted. “Come to think of it, I’ve never even seen you shop.”

“No, I don’t, but I suspect (Y/n) does,” Temari said. “She’s always wearing the loveliest yukatas around the place. Have you noticed? And anyway, it doesn’t matter; this gives me the perfect time to get her to let her guard down and let something slip.” 

Kankuro sighed. “We’re still on that, huh …? Just forget about the oasis, okay? Don’t mention it to her. I’ve had no luck at the library.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Temari said. “I’m sure I can get her to spill something about Lord Boutoku’s plans —“

“What’s this?” Baki said at the door.

Kankuro jumped from the door frame. “Oh, h — hey, Baki, We were just —“

“What are you two up to?” Baki frowned. “This better not have anything to do with (Y/n). Just what’re you planning?”

“Nothing!” they said in unison.

Baki paused to pinch the space between his eyes. “Fine, I relent. Kankuro, you’re needed in the office.”

“What’s happening?” Kankuro asked gravely.

“It seems there was an egregious error in one of the documents you signed a day ago,” Baki explained droningly. “You promised those contractors two-thousand yen, not two-hundred-thousand yen. Now, they think they’ve struck gold and have taken to the streets —“

“Oh, for gods’ sake!” Temari threw her cover to the side. “This is exactly why you should’ve chosen me as sub-Kazekage or appointed yourself! I can’t believe this! Now, I’ve got to go talk to them and explain all this and —“ She pointed to Kankuro as she walked to the door, “ — fix your mistake! I can’t believe —!”

Temari sprinted out the door, lecturing absolutely no one, leaving Kankuro and Baki alone.

“This is why I’ll never get married,” Kankuro said. “Shikamaru’s really a man to be envied.”

And he abandoned the room as well. 

“I think I need to up my migraine medication …” Baki spoke under his breath before following them.

Temari was late. You slipped into your sandals —

Squawk.

You froze. 

You faced the window: a hawk, a curled letter attached to its leg.

You raced to the window. You untied the letter with trembling fingers. The hawk, unperturbed by your panic, flew away. 

You sank against your windowsill. The letter unfurled. You began reading.

You SELFISH girl! 

What have I done to vex the gods so that I was cursed with you? That beast masquerading as your betrothed is an absolute MENACE who has killed hundreds of people from our village and beyond. Perhaps I was wrong to trust you — how could you ever understand the complexities of this situation. If you have a shred of dignity left, you will commit yourself to silence and do what you’re told for once! The demise of the Kazekage will lead to the prosperity of our village and others for decades, possibly even centuries, to come! Are you in such desperate need of a reminder? I have entrusted our ninja to protect you and wait until you complete your mission, which you  WILL  do. After which they will go to work wiping out the Suna council and his disgusting siblings AFTER you are done with the job of killing him, which you  WIL do . What is wrong with you? You would ally with the people who killed your brother in cold blood, simply because they smiled at you and gave you a place to sleep? What kind of street rat are you? Are you not my daughter? Well, since you need so much convincing to resist the temptation of allying with the people who have  MURDERED  members of your family, let alone your precious elder brother — who was the  second  to hold you after your  disgraceful  birth — let me enlighten you on how your brother died — 

“(Y/n)?” Temari’s voice came down the hallway.

Quickly, you hid the letter under your pillow. You slapped a false smile on, given no time to process the ire of the letter as Temari appeared.

“Hey,” she said, all smiles. “Are you ready? Let’s get a move on!”

“Yes,” You said, your voice shaking from your father’s lashing. “Let’s.”

The shopping centers were bustling. Temari had clearly taken you to one of the more expensive areas of the village; it was not like when Gaara had taken you out; no one stopped to say hello or noticed Lady Temari or you out and about, so transfixed the shoppers were with their vibrant kimonos and embroidered cloths, their jewels and sparkling jades.

The excitement dizzied you. “You didn’t have to take me somewhere so decadent, Temari …” You muttered, looking around at the ornate sand buildings. Their signs would blare to life with neon colors come nightfall.

“Nonsense!” Temari nuzzled closer to you. “Only the best for my future sister-in-law!”

You nodded furiously out of fear of seeming ungrateful. The letter numbed her flattering sentiment. You walked with legs made of cotton, immaterial and ready to buckle any moment. You fought to get a hold of yourself. You had been sure Father would come through the letter to strangle you; his fury had messied his handwriting. If he was that mad in the letter, what was it like to behold him in real life …?

Will do. What would happen if you didn’t do as he said?

What would happen to you?

… Would he … kill you? Could he?

No … no, he couldn’t —

“Something seems to be on your mind,” Temari said, studying you.

Fear shrank you. You faced her. His disgusting siblings. “Just a little — uh — overwhelmed, is all.” 

Temari chuckled. “I understand. Perhaps I was a bit too hasty to show off?”  

A woman walked past with a layer of fabric slung over her arm. 

Temari watched her walk away. “It’s funny … My father, the Fourth Kazekage, was so resentful of the Oasis village he had any and all items branded with scorpions banned.”

You swung your head, taken aback by the vitriol of the past. “What?”

Temari resumed walking. You tailed behind her. “He told me he came to despise the symbol of the scorpion so much he couldn’t bear the idea of people in his village donning it. It couldn’t be on bags or purses, or shirts or even rings. I didn’t totally believe him at the time and went looking — It’s in the records. Can you believe it?”

You suspected you were not being called to answer. Your mouth bobbed.

“I …”

“It was such a dark time.” 

You aligned your steps with hers. Temari was taller than you and, judging from the look of her arms and legs, stronger. Her blouse exposed her back and you could detect the lean muscles molded there. You hid behind her, hoping, in your panicked state, she would protect you from …

She glanced over her shoulder at you. “I’m sure your father is still angry about the way the Sand has treated him, despite this arrangement.”

A bitter laugh quivered from your mouth. “He’s always angry.” 

“I bet.” Temari spotted a store and beelined toward it. “Let’s go in there! It’s one of my favorites.”

You obediently followed.

Temari stopped abruptly, facing you. “I’ve been meaning to ask you … What even made Lord Boutoku set this up between you and my brother? After all, there were other villages in the Wind country he could have chosen.”

You paused. You met her eye. She’s grilling me. 

Father’s voice thundered in your head: I trained you for this, do NOT ruin the plan, selfish girl …

A group of teenage girls brushed past to enter the store. Temari was not deterred.

You straightened and forced your voice airy and polite. “The truth is, the Oasis is willing to share their secrets if it means they and the Sand can be allies.”

Temari was silent. Clearly, you had thrown her. 

“But,” You continued, “while we’re on the subject, why did the Sand agree at all? I’m not a ninja after all, so I’m not privy to any hidden techniques or anything the Sand may want. The Sand could have had us offer anything else. It didn’t have to be my hand.”

Silence. Temari stared —

The door flung open. 

“Can it be?” A woman stood at the door with huge white hair and pink cheeks. “Lady Temari! What a blessing to have you come to my store!”

Temari blinked. “I —“

“Come in, come in!”

She ushered the two of you inside. Several girls lingered behind the counter with the same rosy cheeks as her. 

“Ohhh!” The shopkeeper leaned uncomfortably close to your face. “And who is this?”

“That’s Lady (Y/n), mama!” One of the girls behind the counter said, holding her face. “The Kazekage’s fiancée!”

Galaxies erupted in the shopkeeper’s eyes. “OHH! What a blessing! What a blessing!”

“We — “ Temari struggled. “We were just looking —“

“Well then, I must show you my most prized section,” the shopkeeper said. “Only the finest apparel for the Kazekage’s family.”

She forced the two of you into a section separate from the front of the store. The shopkeeper thrust you into a private mall with floors and stairs to higher ones. Racks upon racks of clothes filled your eyes, along with the most divinely embroidered fabrics for crafting kimonos.  Two other women there with you, apparently high class enough to be bestowed the same honor, but were too engrossed in their potential purchases to notice your appearances.

“Really, ma’am!” Temari pressed. “We’re — really not looking to —“

“Oh, don’t be modest, my lady!” said the shopkeeper. “Spend as much time as you want looking! Oh! And don’t be afraid to call me!” 

She waved and shut the door, leaving the two of you in the museum of outfits. 

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind buying a few outfits since we’re out,” You told Temari. “If you don’t mind?”

Temari blinked, defeated. “Not … Not at all …”

You investigated the nearest racks while she got her bearings. 

After a few minutes, she started again. “So, I was right to take you shopping?”

“Oh, yes.” You surveyed the racks. “Clothes … they’re really the only way I’ve ever been able to express myself as the daughter of a village head.” 

“I can imagine it’s been very stifling for you.”

“Mhm …” You feigned interest in a glittering dress. Temari’s attention spidered up your back and you braced yourself for another set of incoming questions. 

“You know,” she began. “Gaara’s kept his promise to your village; the first set of resources has been sent out already.”

You turned to her with a grateful smile. “Really? That’s fantastic news!” 

“It is …” Temari leaned against a rack. “But I wonder … if your village is willing to spill its precious secrets, they must expect something truly invaluable in return.”

You knelt down to admire some shoes.

“The basics — water, weapons — that’s all fine, but … Your oasis is sacred, isn’t it?” 

“The friendship of a previous enemy is plenty valuable.” You looked at her over your shoulder. “Don’t you think so? You were there for Gaara’s speech. He has such a way with words …”

“He does,” Temari said. “He’s done so much reading the past few years, absorbs words like a sponge. I’m proud of him. We all are.”

“I can imagine.”

“When he fainted on stage, I could’ve sworn you must’ve slipped something into his drink!”

Your heart drummed, but you willed your body still. 

“Isn’t that funny?”

You rose with your most charming smile. “It’s hilarious! I can’t imagine what would make you think such a thing.”

Temari stared. Clearly, she was studying your face. The two women in the room exited, leaving you at Temari’s mercy. You collected some dresses, hoping your trembling arms would go unnoticed.

“Oh.” Temari bobbed her head. “I just remembered … Our fathers have only met once, I think.”

“Oh?” You passed her with a few dresses hung over your arm. You were sure of her eyes following you. You climbed the steps. Temari stalked behind you. 

“Yes,” Temari said. “I must have been about ten when that meeting took place. If I remember correctly, there wasn’t much rapport after our father was confirmed dead.”

There’s no reason for the Oasis and Sand to become allies — unless one had ulterior motives … 

You nodded, crossing into a new aisle. “Orochi … maru, was it? Horrible creature. I apologize on behalf of my father; he can be so classless sometimes. But …” You faced a new rack as Temari sharked toward you. “But … I imagine Konoha wasn’t shedding too many tears over the Fourth’s death, either. I think they should apologize for their silence as well. If they haven’t already. Don’t you?”

You shifted clothes on the rack — Temari’s hand blocked the hangers transferring.

“The Oasis would have much to gain from Gaara being removed. Or otherwise disposed of.”

You froze. 

Shit.

You thanked whatever god you had to you were not facing her at that moment, for you were sure you would have blown it. 

Think.  Think.  Have to throw her off. 

You wracked your brain, thinking of what you knew about Temari so far. 

You faced her after a beat. “Not at all.”

Temari stuttered. “What?”

“If Suna were to fall for whatever reason, it would throw the entire Wind country in disarray!” You said, as though the idea were ridiculous. “Suna is the seat of power on this side of the world. We would all suffer from it. The world of politics is so messy and pedantic as it is without bringing murder into the mix.”

It frightened you how true your words rang. The image of Father loomed in your mind, eager to deliver disapproval.

Authenticity proved your savior; Temari seemed to consider your words, leaving an opportunity open.

“Temari,” You began, feigning bashfulness. “I’ve been meaning to ask … what’s it like to be in love?”

“What?” Her face grew red, throwing hands in front of her face.

You toyed with the hem of one shirt. “I only wondered … I know I’ve only known Gaara for a few days, but I’ve grown to like him so much.”

None of it was a lie. You were growing to like Gaara a lot, a dangerous amount. You only knew romance from books, and a part of you did wonder if this fluttering in your chest was …

Temari recovered inchmeal to answer you. “It feels … good. To have someone understand you on that level.”

You smiled. “It must …!”

“I never thought I’d ever find someone I loved as much as my brothers,” Temari said, facing you again. “It would be a shame if anything happened to either of them.” 

Oh no. You kept the guilt from your face. 

“If anyone threatened them in any way,” she said, voice low, “I’d tear them apart.”

You would drown in the dark of her eyes. You stood, rooted beside her, silent.

She meant it. Temari crowded her brothers under her wings. If she discovered you, you would be torn apart and by her personally. There would be no excuse, no sob story you could bestow on her to make her reconsider. She would kill you.

But, if you failed, would Father?

Who were you more afraid of?

You swallowed — 

The door burst open.

“How’s everything going?” the shopkeeper said. Her daughters’ heads peeked from behind. She spotted where you two stood on the second floor. “Hm? Finding everything okay?”

“Lady (Y/n), what’s the Kazekage like in private?” 

“Is he charming? Oh, I bet!”

“Girls!” the shopkeeper barked.

Temari sighed before turning to you. “I’ll pay for everything. Let’s just go.”

Yes,  please!

As though the past few moments hadn’t happened, Temari led you out of the section and to the cash register to pay.

It was strange for Gaara to watch someone else do his work. Kankuro sat on the other side of the Kazekage’s desk, his lips as he stamped another document and shuffled it into the done pile.  

Anxiety gnawed at him; he of all people knew Temari could be … daunting.

“You don’t think Temari is scaring (Y/n) too much, do you?” Gaara asked. 

“Yep,” Kankuro said, stamping another. “She’ll be calling this whole thing off and heading back to the Oasis tonight. Let’s not forget what she did to Tenten — and she wasn’t even trying to marry you or anything.”

Gaara imagined your back broken over the tip of Temari’s folding fan, lifeless and bleeding. He didn’t like the image at all and shook his head blank. 

“Kankuro?”

“Hm?”

“What do men … do with women?” Gaara asked, hands in his lap. “I want to be a good host to (Y/n), but I’ve never done this before. I’m running out of ideas.”

Kankuro snorted. “What? Icha Icha didn’t give you any ideas?”

“It definitely plugged up some holes.” Gaara heard his brother snickering but, unable to understand why, returned to thinking. “But there’s much that seems so complicated. How do you date a girl …? And why would a mother pursue her son-in-law?”

Kankuro nearly fell over. “She … she really did explain those books to you, didn’t she?”

Gaara looked to his brother for help.

Kankuro sighed. “All right, well, you’re doing fine as it is, Gaara. Girls like being wined and dined, and they like surprises and gifts. You know, fun things.”

“Fun things …”

“Just take some time to brainstorm,” Kankuro said. “You can bounce some ideas off of me. I’m …” He looked up at his stack of paperwork. “I’m not going anywhere …”

Gaara thought to himself. He and you were both people of the desert. Surely there were more things you could share with one another?

What could he do … What —

It came to him. 

“Kankuro, I think I have an idea!”

Pride shone in Kankuro’s eyes. “I’m all ears.”

For the rest of the evening, Temari was noticeably defanged. You had passed whatever test Temari had put you through. Now the two of you were finally having a normal day out. 

You wanted to be proud of yourself, but you didn’t know how to be, or if you were allowed. For what? Your assassination plot having not been found out? 

“I’ll order us lunch,” Temari said as she placed the menu on the table. 

“Thank you.”

“I was thinking about what you said,” Temari said.

You grew nervous, fidgeted in your seat. “Hm?”

“About being in love,” Temari clarified. “I’ve spent time with my fiancée’s family — the Naras — and it was nice. Being around an ordinary family. As opposed to what our families are like, you know?”

You blinked. From your perspective, the Sand siblings were an ordinary family. 

“I — Yes, I get you.”

Temari laughed to herself. “It’s rough being the only girl, isn’t it? All the bullshit we have to take from the men. The constant threat of political marriages.”

You perked. This you could understand. “And you’re the oldest, aren’t you?”

“Ugh!” Temari flew back in her chair. “Don’t remind me. You know, my father tried to marry me off once?”

“No.”

“Yes!” Temari leaned in, excited. She twirled a finger to jog her memory. “Some boy from the Land of Rivers — don’t even remember his name.”

“What happened to him?”

“He said something about my ass and I nearly broke his neck.”

The two of you exploded into giggles. You adjusted one of the shopping bags at your feet so as to not knock it over.

“Not for lack of trying. Suffice to say, that ended things and he went home,” Temari said.

You wiped a tear from your eye. “I can imagine!”

“So, Lord Boutoku really lets you read Icha Icha?” Temari said, disbelieving.

“He insists,” You pressed. “He thinks it’s the only thing ladies should read so they know how to please men.”

Temari shook her head. “No offense, but I’m liking the man less and less.”

“None taken. But I started liking them quite a lot on my own.”

Food came at last, a myriad of different dishes — miso soup, fish, steaming rice — and the two of you dove in.

You sipped your jasmine tea to wash your throat. “Mmm …” 

“Good?”

“So good.” You inhaled the steam warming your nose.

“So,” Temari began. “You really like Gaara, don’t you?”

You set your tea down. “I do. He’s … nothing I expected.”

“Has he … told you anything?”

You caught her meaning. “He’s told me he’s had a difficult past.”

“Ah.” Temari preoccupied herself with the removal of onions from her salad. “So … no details, then?”

You paused. “No.”

You remembered your father’s letter and how you hadn’t had the chance to finish it. His words rang in your head still, and you hadn’t even endured the full torrent of his ire. Chills snaked over your skin despite the heat of the tea trickling down your throat. Temari sobered up as she minded her meal. You frowned.

“Temari?”

She looked up. “Oh, Nevermind me! We should keep things light!” 

“Yes.” Relief replaced the chills. “Let’s.”

“I’ll tell you about the time Shikamaru’s father walked in on my changing and swallowed one of his cigarettes.”

“Oh, gods,” You leaned in. “Shoot.”

Dusk overran evening once the two of you returned to the Suna palace, barring shopping bags and giggling over anecdotes. Gaara and Kankuro loitered around the entrance. 

They must have been waiting for us. So cute!

Gaara scanned the myriad of bags with a smile. “You must have had a good time, since it’s so late out,” he surmised. 

“We did!” Temari chirped before facing Kankuro. “Hope you didn’t pass any more asinine orders in our absence, Kankuro.”

Kankuro hmphed and crossed defiant arms. “I’ll have you know I finished all the work early today.”

“Good, so you can help us carry bags inside —“

Temari swung bags in Kankuro’s face and he yelped. 

The four of you hurried into the living room. Servants relieved you of your bags and moved to leave them in your respective rooms. The four of you piled into the dining room for dinner, for it was not long before varying plates of food — fish platters, potatoes, red wine (you gulped; Gaara fidgeted), figs — were brought to the table.

“The onigiri is immaculate,” You said, admiring the cute rice pyramids. “I have to send compliments to the chef.”

Kankuro shot Temari a look you couldn’t interpret. You returned to your meal.

Kankuro nudged Gaara’s arm with a mouthful of biscuit. “Gaara, don’t you have something to tell (Y/n)?”

“Yes, about that …” Gaara turned to you proudly. 

“Well, don’t leave us in suspense,” Temari said. “Spill it!”

“I’ve prepared some things so all of us can take a vacation to the beach.”

You shot up from your chair. “The beach?”

Gaara paused, clearly startled. “Y—Yes,” he said. “Is … is that all right?”

“Are you kidding?” You laughed. “That’s … oh my — it’s fantastic! I’ve never been to a beach! A beach in the desert?” 

“You’d be surprised,” Kankuro said. “Weirder things are out there.”

“That’s thoughtful of you, but, Gaara.” Temari faced her brother. “What about the office?”

“Baki will take over for Kankuro for the weekend we’re gone so we can enjoy ourselves,” Gaara explained. “He offered; he thinks it’s a good idea for us to bond, as we’ll all be family soon —“

You flew over the table and enveloped Gaara in a hug. 

“Oh, thank you!” You squealed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you —!“

Temari and Kankuro giggled while Gaara pet you on the shoulder.

“I’ve only ever read about beaches in books!” You leaned away, one arm still wrapped around Gaara’s shoulder. “I wish you had told me — I don’t even have a bathing suit!”

“That can be arranged,” Temari quipped. “Another quick shopping trip will fix that, I think.”

“It’ll be like a pre-honeymoon!” Kankuro shrugged. “But, you know, with us.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Gaara said. “I want us all to enjoy ourselves as (Y/n) and I get to know each other.”

“I agree!” You said. 

You smiled at him — only to realize your hug had left you situated in his lap. You leaped away.

“S — Sorry, Gaara.” You bowed, your voice a squeak. “I —“

But Gaara took your hand and kissed it lightly, causing you to blush. 

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Kankuro cornered Temari as she prepared for bed, organizing papers on her desk.

“So,” he said.

Temari dimmed her lamp, leaving them in semidarkness. “So what?”

“So. C’mon,” Kankuro said. “Just admit you like (Y/n).”

“All right, fine,” Temari sighed. “Despite how horrible Lord Boutoku is. She’s … nice.”

“Finally. Told you she’s not up to anything.” Kankuro tilted his head.

“Why are you grilling me, anyway?” Temari asked.

“Because I know what this is really about,” Kankuro said, leaning against the door frame as he had done before.

Temari sat on the edge of her bed, crossed her legs and arms. “Well, go ahead. Enlighten me.”

“You don’t want to let go of Gaara,” Kankuro said matter-of-factly. “He’s your little baby brother and now he’s all grown up, but you’ve mothered him for so long you can’t accept that he doesn’t need you like he used to.”

Temari rose with a scoff. “That’s ridiculous.”

“And,” Kankuro continued. “I had hoped that you would realize all on your own, but alas, I have to save the day — again. Sucks being the only sane one around here.”

“That’s just silly!”

“And,” Kankuro went on, “Now, I’m gonna have to call Shikamaru to come get you because —“

Temari held an arm akimbo. “How dare you insinuate I need a man to reign me in —”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Baki entered the room. “What is it now?”

Kankuro and Temari rounded on each other. 

“Temari’s being silly —“

“Kankuro’s the silly one!” Temari bit back. “With all his crazy Kazekage orders and —“

“Okay. Enough.” Baki said. “The two of you have done nothing but bicker and fight over Lord Kazekage’s happiness from the moment Lady (Y/n) arrived.”

“That’s …” Temari deflated. “That’s not …”

“The two of you will stop scheming — both of you.” Baki narrowed his eyes. “I don’t care who started what. Kankuro, stop antagonizing your sister. And Temari, let your brothers breathe for once? You’re both too old for this. If you love your brother as much as you say you do, you will band together to help ensure this arrangement goes well, and he has fewer enemies to worry about in the future. Understand?”

Kankuro and Temari faced each other. 

“I’m … sorry,” Temari relented.

“So am I,” Kankuro said.

Baki sighed. “Good, that’s a start. Now, get some rest. We have to begin planning your trip in the morning.”

Baki gave them a lingering stare before leaving the room. 

Temari retook her seat on the bed. “Gaara … does seem very happy. With her. So far.” She lowered her head, as though considering other things coming to mind. “And I guess it is really something to be set up to marry someone you could actually grow to love.”

Kankuro nodded. “Yeah. Doesn’t happen every day, does it?”

Temari shook her head. “No …” She lent Kankuro her hand. “Truce?”

Kankuro smiled, approached her, and shook her hand. “Truce.”

Your head had snuggled against the pillow when you realized —

The letter. 

You rivaled the part of yourself desiring to drift off to sleep and forget the entire wretched correspondence. But you knew you couldn’t, not with the way your chest grew to ache with anxiety, come to reunite with you like an old friend. You hooked a hand under the pillow. Paper crinkled under your palm. You pulled it out and sat up. 

With dread cemented in your chest, you continued to read:

That boy is a scourge upon the earth who killed his mother to come into this world. My precious Hideo got caught in his wretched jutsu. His Sand Burial, I’m told. The damage done to Hideo’s body was so egregious we could never collect his body — 

You dropped the paper as though burned by it. You stared at it, wide-eyed. 

It was a moment or two before you reclaimed it to continue. You read the passage several times to convince yourself the words were real. Teardrops splattered near the edge of the paper, expanding like watercolor suns. Nausea whirled your stomach, but your eyes ran over the words anyway:

You disgrace us. If you do not do this, I will personally have you put you to death once the coup begins. Do not test me again. 

The letter abruptly ended, exacerbating the chill of it, the finality. You let it fall away to the side before you could add more tears to its face. Bile rose in your throat, threatening vomit, but your legs would not move; you were too weak to move them. 

Hideo’s beautiful face came to your mind, his beautiful smile and eyes — only to drown in blood. 

You clutched your head, sunk into your lap. Your two realities sat between you, forever at odds.

No, no. It couldn’t be true. Gaara and his siblings — they had been so nice to you. He had been so nice to you. He would never … could never be capable of such things.

Hideo kept flaring in your mind to die horrid deaths. Again and again, his mangled body reached out to you, begging for help —

“No!” 

You knocked the letter over. 

You refused to believe it — believe Father. Gaara would never, and even if he had — he would have told you … he would have remembered and called things off. 

If he even remembered or knew Hideo’s name. If he hadn’t killed so many, your brother joined a nameless herd —

You shoved your father’s voice aside like a real thing, rejecting it.

A burst of energy had you leaving your bed, letter in hand. You started a fire in the fireplace. 

Gaara had been nicer to you than anyone you had ever met. Save for Hideo, who would never stand for this, you knew. You were happier than you had ever been with him and his siblings. 

Gaara was kind.

Your father had never been kind.

Corrupt, cruel, capricious. His crimes were stacked up by the dozens as you determined to recall them all. He had yelled at you, assaulted you, called you a disgrace, called you selfish. In what way were you selfish? What had he ever asked of you that you hadn’t given? I’m here because he asked!

No.

You tore the letter in two. Threes. Fours. If only you had a fire, you would thrust it in the flames and let them eat the corners away before disposing of the thing. Your father was insane, you knew. None of it could be true. Gaara was kind and gentle and — and the two of you were to be married soon. He was taking you to the beach.

I don’t believe you, Father.

You collected the letter’s pieces and went to the window, letting the pieces flee from your hands and scatter to the wind like snow. You wrestled with the necklace around your neck, its poisonous contents, and clutched a hand around its pendant. 

I’ll keep it. And if Father comes, I’ll use what’s inside to protect Gaara. Or  myself .

The rest of the thick of the night was spent sorting out your thoughts. You wouldn’t tell them about your father’s plot yet, and it was entirely due to your cowardice. You remembered Temari’s words and the look she’d given you. If you couldn’t convince them you were on their side, you were sure you would be jailed — or killed. Regardless of your reasons.

No, you would wait after the trip, then you would tell them. The coup could only begin once you gave the word to the other Oasis nin meant to protect you. Father couldn’t do anything until then. And, if your father chose to be impulsive and come, he wouldn’t find Gaara or his siblings here — all of you would be miles away … His plan would fail.

With your thoughts ironed out, you settled in for bed, but it would be long before sleep would claim you. Due to the horrific imagery your father had given you — and what your mind chose to torture you with.

Gaps, endless voids, sprouted in between the horror, and you let daydreams of Gaara and the beach fill those gaps.

[autumn-equinox-04]

Imagine....

....an AU where Aru never lit the lamp, and subsequently never learned about the Otherworld and who she really is

I had to write down the idea and it somehow evolved into.... this

In this AU our lovely heroine is around 14-15, and living life as a loner, because after she refused to light the lamp that fateful day, she got labeled a liar and no one wanted to hang out with her

Her mom is also away on business trips, more so than ever because she’s getting more and more desperate to find the artifact that will help her keep both her daughter and her husband

So now she’s kind of like a jaded, cynical version of herself- she avoids attention like it’s one of those rats-with-wings (pigeons) and has loads of trust and family issues because hero(in)es with angst are close to my heart it’s only expected with her childhood and upbringing

Another thing worth mentioning: because her mother didn’t tell her anything about the Otherworld, she becomes the only Pandava unaware of who they really are (meaning all the rest have been claimed and instated as one of the heroes)

So because the Sleeper was never released, he can’t be the villain, and this leaves the role open for someone I wish we’d seen more of- Takshaka (I kinda hate him, but I feel like his arc, especially his hate of Arjuna and Indra in particular, is really interesting and something that could’ve been expanded on more in the books)

Istg y'all I have so many thoughts about this-

Should I write this out? I kinda wanna write this out

[starcrossedsongs]

I've waxed poetic about this scene on Twitter, but I figured I'd do it here, too!

(Screenshots are my own, gifs are from here, by the lovely Dana)

I'm gonna quickly preface this by saying that I have zero idea if Zillace will be more than friends this season or beyond. They're my #1 ship right now, but either way, I just can't articulate enough how much I love this moment.

Katherine talked here about how when she and Zeeko play these kinds of scenes, their own experiences as the two POC leads on the show informs it. And I love that, because it's so apparent in the way that Tiff and OA interact.

This isn't an anti-Maggie or anti-Scola post, but their dismissal of OA taking offense to the suspect being assumed Middle-Eastern ticked me off. But, even with that, I noticed this:

First, OA is just...incredibly annoyed, which is super valid.

But even while that's happening, you know who's focused on him? Tiff. It's like they're having a silent conversation, with the real one to come minutes later once they get in the house.

Even as Maggie walks ahead, they're maintaining that eye contact. If you watch the scene in real time, it reminds me a lot of 5x04, when OA snapped at the agent who made a (distasteful) "joke" about the case. Then and here, Tiff was essentially laser-focused on OA the entire time, non-verbally seeing if he's good (and in the case of 5x04, both verbally and physically).

Which makes the 6x01 scene all the more special.

It's so short—honestly, if you blink or were looking at your phone, you might miss it. But Tiff opens up the door once she and OA are near each other and out of earshot from their partners—"So much for the guy being Middle-Eastern."

Look at OA's expression here. It's almost like he's bracing himself, the way his sentence trails off. Not that Tiff would say anything remotely like the SWAT leader, Maggie, or Scola did—but to me, it just looks like he's a guy who's tired of the assumptions and treads lightly sometimes when things like this happen.

Alright, so let's break this down. Tiff's response is immediate—yeah, I know. Because she does. Yes, she and OA look different, but they've each had to see up close and personal what having skin color like theirs means in situations like this. You're always a target. A suspect. Even if you didn't do anything.

The little shake of her head as she looks back down—sort of like, "it's a shame" type of thing.

But, then the "trust me" is what gets me. Because (first of all, Tiff, he does, with his life) she's seeing the opposite side of it: how Black people are often accused without warning just because of what we look like. And it's there—the innate understanding that she's communicating with him in that moment. She knows that after what happened outside, he's seeking reassurance that he's not overreacting, that he has a right to be annoyed, and with five words, Tiffany told him, you weren't wrong.

And OA freaking sighs after she says it. You can see it in his face, the relief at the fact that she gets it. Gets him. In five words, Tiffany understands. Perhaps more than anyone ever has.

Y'all see his eyes? The way they flit over her face for a second or two—relishing the fact that, okay, this is someone I don't have to tiptoe around. I can say exactly how I feel and know they won't judge me or have some preconceived notion. They listen, they hear me, and they don't try to understand. They simply do.

This has already gotten way too long, but I'm so serious when I say that OA and Tiffany have the most unique dynamic on FBI. There's so much depth and realness, a shared life perspective, and if you see them like I do, tons of chemistry as well. I really hope S6 furthers their bond, because it's so near and dear to my heart.

Thank you for coming to my TEDTalk! :)

[aoflameandco]

GrimmNell: character study

Well-well-well, I mentioned once that my GrimmNel brainrot is far from being over - so here we go! What else's to analyze about them though? Well, this time we have a new subject to focus on... the Bleach personality quiz!

Yes, I know it's a bit questionable source for a character study, but let me explain! June 2011. The third Bleach Official Character Book UNMASKED was released in Japan. This databook was mostly famous for giving Ulquiorra a more detailed backstory and showing more of Halibel and her Fracción. However, there was another small tidbit for Arrancar's fans - the official quiz from Kubo - Which Bleach character are you? 

The quiz was extremely simple.  Add up the numbers of your full date of birth and don't forget your blood type. Voila! In the end you get a short profile about your Bleach "personality type", which highlights the key qualities of this particular character.

Now, y'all know where I'm going with this. So, what's like to be like Grimmjow- or Nel according to the databook? Let's check it!

And- Even without any translation, we immediately bump into the first problem. There's only Nel's profile. Not Nelliel's.

Well, they're the same person! It would be weird to separate them, right? But yeah... there's a solid difference in a way her kid and adult forms act.

So the question remains - can we apply this profile's info to the adult Nelliel? Let's read it to find out.

a bit messy not word to word translation's incoming, pls take it with a grain of salt

Cheerful and playful

Nel type!

Good at opening people's hearts. Very quick to make bonds, no matter with who - friends or foes. She is attentive and good at conveying information to those around her. But sometimes she says too much.

• works at her own pace • high sense of camaraderie • doesn't run away from difficulties • hero of justice

Ofc this info perfectly fits baby Nel. She quickly befriended Ichigo, even though he was a shinigami; she was a sort of his guide, explaining how Hueco Mundo works; also she is a big chatterbox, saying surprisingly harsh things sometimes. Her attentive side shined during the Ichigo vs Grimmjow fight, when she noticed Orihime's turmoil and gave her a good advice. She is surely down for justice, but it's a little bit difficult to fight for it in her small body. So the real Nelliel has to step up.

Same qualities but a different approach - that's what I would say about adult!Nel. And it's very visible when it comes to her later interactions with Grimmjow, esp in CFYOW.

But before giving some bright examples, let's take a look at his quiz profile as well - to understand the similarities and contrasts between these two characters.

Responsible but mischievous

Grimmjow type

There's still a bit of a boyish heart (shounen no kokoro) in him. But deep inside he's unexpectedly serious and has a sense of responsibility. He catches the information fast and adapts quickly, but his tendency to get bored could be a problem. If he'll improve this aspect, good fortune is likely to come his way.

• has a sense of responsibility • thrives in adversity • quickly adapts • gets bored easily

And - the quiz highlighted thrice (!) that Grimmjow is indeed a responsible person. Something Nelliel didn't expect as well. As a true hero of justice she was prepared to stop Sexta as soon as he starts an unnecessary violence. But to her surprise - Grimmjow was far from an uncontrollable beast and followed his own codex.

A sense of responsibility didn't turn Grimmjow into an obedient boy though. Him and Nel keep arguing due to their different perspectives - especially when it comes to handling the former enemies.

Nelliel easily bonds with anyone - quincy, Aura, etc., meanwhile Grimmjow picks a fight as a first option. This choice isn't just a result of his bloodthirst though. Grimmjow's survival instincts are strong, so he always stays on guard and doesn't trust easily. That's why he warns Nelliel that her pacifism might end up badly for them all.

Another proof that even though he acts as if he doesn't belong to the group, Grimm isn't as indifferent as he pretends to be. Very responsible of him, huh?

Yet there's another obstacle in their dynamic. Their pacing. Grimmjow is quick to adapt and quick to act, meanwhile Nelliel doesn't like to rush and prefers to gather as much information as possible.

Hard to say who's wrong in this case. Quick reaction benefited Grimmjow in general, but ofc Nel likes to remind him about Askin's incident, her favorite argument to cool him down.

And usually her persuasion works, surely Grimm argues back but still stops. When his stubbornness wins though- there's no way that Nelliel will just let him go. She'll do everything to find him, stop him and bring him back.

Nel complaints but doesn't give up on her fellow arrancar, no matter how difficult the other side is. Knowing Grimmjow's past, the sense of camaraderie isn't an empty word for him too. With creak he opens up to Nel, sharing his thoughts with her. Even though she is too bold with her words sometimes, it doesn't look like Sexta feels a grudge against her.

Grimmjow isn't a friendly type. He likes to fight, but a disappointed look quickly appears on his face, if his enemy doesn't meet expectations. He gets bored easily, he always needs some action. And yet- for some reason Nelliel got his attention.

There's no doubt that he sees her as a nice opponent, he even provoked her to fight with a smirk. He easily forgets anyone who didn't pique his interest and yet Nel's reiatsu is safely stored in his memory.

However, it wouldn't be correct to reduce Grimmjow's attention to a desire to fight, when we have several scenes of him watching Nelliel's peaceful shenanigans. He was calmly watching over kid Nel in anime probably wondering about the connection between this brat and the mighty Tres, he was dying of boredom, but still didn't take his eyes off her tea party in the novel. Even Halibel noticed it and offered him to join, but ofc he proudly refused.

So what did we confirm again? Even though Grimmjow and Nelliel share rather opposite views when it comes to socializing or making decisions, some of their character traits are surprisingly compatible. Grimmjow gained some respect points, when Nel started to notice his responsible side, meanwhile he opened up to her pushy yet reliable presence. Nelliel doesn't give up on her persuasion and he doesn't get bored of arguing with her. Covering eo's flaws they make quite a powerful duo, isn't?

So let's hope we'll see more of their rocky bond next season~

[messedupfan]

I'm With You | 11

Summary: Wanda wants to be a friend to Y/n when she needs it the most but feels as though she can't. Pietro steps in and offers Y/n advice. Y/n makes some tough decisions.

A/N: Hello!! I don't have much to say other than I hope y'all are happy and healthy. Enjoy!

Masterlist | All Chapters | Taglist

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Sitting in her room, Y/n feels the familiar pain that came with loving Natasha. Was this feeling worth fighting for? She asks herself. She thought she was fighting for the woman that saved her. The woman that didn't leave her side as she waited for her to wake up. Only for her to be someone she doesn't recognize. 

Wanda had overheard the argument as she was walking out of a training session. She waited outside Y/n's room. Not quite sure how she wanted to approach her. She didn't want it to confuse the girl anymore than she was. But she wanted to be a friend for her. She didn't want her to think she was being there for ulterior motives. Her brother spots her outside the girls room and steps quietly closer to her. 

“What’s happening?” He whispers, startling his sister. 

Wanda smacks his chest. “Don’t do that!” she scolds. He laughs quietly as he asks the question. “She needs a friend.” She looks at the door with her worry. 

“So… go in there,” he says as if it's that simple. 

“I can't,” Wanda replies. 

“Why not? You are her friend. Go be her friend,” he directs.

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” she retorts. 

“How so?” Pietro presses. 

Not wanting to discuss her feelings at the moment, Wanda evades the question. “It just is, okay?”

Pietro shakes his head. “I’ll go in there, you tell me what you want to say.” Wanda scowls as she asks how she is supposed to do that and he taps his head as if it's obvious before knocking on Y/n's door. Ignoring her plea to be left alone, Pietro walks right in. “Hey, I uh, wasn't eavesdropping but, I heard things going south with you and Natasha. Thought you might need someone to talk to.” He says every word that Wanda sends to his mind. Then the girl tries to connect to his ears. To hear what he is hearing. 

“Thank you Pietro, but it's okay. You don't want to hear about my problems. Especially when some of them involve your sister,” she wipes her tears. 

“What about my sister has you shedding tears?” he asks protectively. “I am older than her by ten minutes, you know. Just say the word and I'll make sure-”

Y/n laughs through her tears, “It’s nothing like that. But thank you Pietro.”

“Then what's the matter?” He presses. Wanda fills him in on what happened as he waits for the girl's response.

Y/n looks at the man and sighs, “You’re not going to leave me alone are you?”

Pietro shakes his head. “Nope! You're stuck with me until I've helped.”

“I see why Wanda is happy to finally have her own space,” she teases as she continues to mull over the idea of opening up to him. 

Pietro laughs, “She’ll never have her own space. Not until I'm dead. No,” he thinks about it for a second. “I take that back. I will haunt her so she never knows peace,” he concludes proudly. Wanda rolls her eyes but smiles when she hears Y/n’s laughter. Her brother is many things and to many people. Very few knew about the kindness in his heart, she’s glad to know that he trusts Y/n enough to show that side of him. 

“Okay,” Y/n takes a breath. “I found out that while I was hurting over Natasha she was getting pleasured by a friend of hers. Then when she was claiming to be searching for me every second of every day while I was being tortured by Hydra, she was still finding time to sleep with that friend. Now,” she sighs at a loss. “I don’t know if I can forgive her for not being committed to me the same way I’ve been committed to her.” 

Pietro nods, “I see,” he stalls a bit as he waits for Wanda’s advice but she has gone silent as she feels Y/n’s pain. She is shocked by the feeling. She wasn’t an empath as far as she knew. They only ever discovered telepathic abilities from her. Maybe it was the bond she had created with Y/n over that time. Maybe there was something more to it or nothing at all. She didn’t have time to figure it out now. Right now, she needs to focus on helping you feel better. “Can I ask, why is it difficult to forgive your girlfriend for her infidelity during your time in captivity, but it was easy to forgive my sister for participating in the torment you faced from Hydra?” 

“She told you I forgave her, huh?” He confirms and Y/n considers her response. Why was one thing easier to forgive than the other? “Because Nat knows how I feel about her and loyalty and monogamy. Whereas Wanda wasn’t directly harming me when we were in Hydra. Besides, though you guys were technically part of that organization, you were just as much a prisoner as I was. She was doing what she had to do in order to survive. Nat was being selfish.”

Pietro nods, letting the information digest himself and worries less about what Wanda has to say. “Why is my sister part of your problems?” He asks on his own. 

“This is kind of awkward to admit because I was just talking about being cheated on and the intense betrayal that I feel from that. But, I have strong confusing feelings towards Wanda. We connect in ways that Nat and I never have before. There are moments between her and I where we’re just talking and that are, I don’t mean to gross you out here but, they are full of more intimacy than anytime I’ve had sex with Nat… ever.”

Pietro wears a soft smile as he sees only positives for his sister's future. There were buddies in the past that talked about his sister like she was an object. They would try to get him to connect them to her by saying how they’re meant to be because she is hot and they would have attractive children together. Whereas Y/n was describing that this close friendship she developed with Wanda over the months is what has attracted her the most. “It’s not gross. It’s actually really sweet.” 

Wanda is touched by this admission as well but starts to feel guilty about overhearing this without your knowledge or consent. She lets Pietro know just that and he assures her that he can take it from here. Wanda walks away from the room to give them space and go to her next training session. Which unfortunately is with a very upset Natasha. 

“Here’s what I think you should do,” Pietro starts. “I think you need to end things with Natasha and focus on yourself. I don’t think your struggle is who you want to be with. Deep down, you know who. What you need to do to retrieve that answer from within yourself is to discover what you’re looking for in a partner. What you need from someone, what you’re willing to give them, how you’re willing to be treated and how you will treat them in return. The type of relationship you want. The type of challenges you need from someone who will help you grow for the better. Learning whether or not you want chaos or stability. Discovering not only what’s best for you but what will potentially be best for your partner. Whoever that may be. You need to be by yourself and figure these things out. Otherwise, no matter who you choose in the end, the relationship will be doomed from the start.” 

Y/n is speechless. She had no idea that Pietro could be so wise from the way Wanda talked about him. He was just this stubborn, overprotective, goofball to her. “Thank you,” she says as she takes his advice to heart. There was a lot that she needed to figure out. She once admitted to Wanda that part of her thing with Natasha was being trapped in this unpredictable cycle of highs and lows. She was fine with that when that’s all she thought was possible for her. But now, she was presented with the opportunity of experiencing something better and she was going to destroy it if she wasn’t careful. “You’ve given me a lot to think about. I think you’re right. I’m in no shape to be dating right now.” You agree to his assessment. 

“So, have I helped?” Pietro asks and Y/n laughs a little. 

“Yes, you can go now. I have to figure out what I’m going to tell Nat,” she sighs as she flops back onto her bed. She has so much to figure out. She had no clue how to start that conversation. She had no idea when to have that conversation. It wasn’t happening today, she wasn’t in the mood to deal with more drama today. So she asks Jarvis to pull up a calendar to help her figure out what day might work best for her. The A.I. projects a digital calendar in front of her when she is suddenly informed what day it will occur. She witnesses the scene unfold and then when it's over, the information is whipped from her memory with only the date marked on the calendar. 

Y/n leaves her room and doesn’t think about her problems again. She returns to the lab to finish the suit. Wanda surprises her with a visit and the two talk and laugh and enjoy each other’s company. She takes an interest in what Y/n is doing so the girl begins to teach her how to use the tools and which tools to use on certain parts.

Tony is in the room the entire time and he can’t help but take notice of the interaction. He wasn’t thrilled when he found out about his colleague and his daughter being in a romantic relationship together. But after everything that Y/n had been through, he wasn’t going to share his disapproval with her. If the double agent is what made her happy then so be it. But in the weeks since she has been back, he took note of the difference in interaction when it came to Wanda and Natasha. Now, he would prefer that Y/n didn’t want either of them. She deserved more than a spy and a Hydra experiment. But these seemed to be the people she attracted. He hides a smile as he remembers the kinds of people her mother had attracted and now he can’t say he is too surprised. 

Out of the two options his daughter has felt compelled to, she seemed to be the happiest and at ease the most when she was with Wanda. Tony decides then that he is going to do as much vetting on the Sokovian orphan as possible before he gives his daughter his stamp of approval. It’s what she deserves. Not someone who is sloppy enough to cheat on her in the building her father owns. He almost didn’t believe it when Jarvis informed him of the infidelity. He figured that a trained assassin would have been the best at not getting caught. 

Once the suit is done, Y/n asks Wanda if she can speak to her about something important in one of their rooms. The brunette holds her breath as she agrees and leads Y/n over to her living quarters. The two sit on the love seat in the room and are nervous with each other as the conversation has an awkward start. 

“I have decided to break things off with Nat,” Y/n blurts out. 

Wanda is shocked and doesn’t know how to proceed, “Oh, okay.”

“And I want you to know that I do have feelings for you. They are true and they are strong,” the Stark continues and Wanda reaches over to hold her hand and help her through the conversation. “But I can’t be with you until I heal myself. I made an appointment with a therapist and I’m going to start to sort out my shit from there.”

“That’s really great, Y/n. I’m happy for you.” She pulls the girl closer to hug her and they fall into each other's arms easily. 

“Thank you,” she nuzzles her face into Wanda’s shoulder before she pulls away. “I just wanted you to know that I do feel that way about you. However, I don’t want you to feel like you have to wait for me. If someone comes along that is ready to love you and give you everything you could ever desire, let them in. Okay? I don’t want to hold you back if we’re not meant to be. And-”

“Y/n!” Wanda calls out for the third time to get you to stop talking. “Hey, let’s not think that far ahead, okay? I can’t make you do anything but I do ask that you take this journey one day at a time. Don’t think about me, don’t think about Natasha, just focus on you. Okay?”

Y/n nods as she feels tears well up in her eyes, not familiar with this kind of support. “Thank you,” she repeats and Wanda giggles as she lets the girl know that the expression of gratitude is unnecessary. “Please keep this between us until I figure out how to talk to Nat.” 

“Of course, you know your secrets are always safe with me.” Wanda promises. “Now come on, we’re going to hang out in that theater room your dad won’t stop talking about.” She gets up off of the couch and holds her hand out to drag Y/n out of the room. “We can even invite my brother and Steve if you’d like.” 

“As much as I would love to be alone with you, I think that’s a really great idea,” the two leave the room to hunt down the other two so Y/n can take her mind off the rollercoaster of a day.

Chapter 12

Taglist: @chaisreading @vivs46 @thatvillain @doudouneverte

[keep-the-wolves-close]

Steady Heart

Chapter 27: Sound off the Sirens

* Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

* Rating: M

* Warnings: language, angst, Malcolm Beck 🤢

* Word count: 2,743ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant for being sounding boards for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being cheerleaders, and allowing me to screech at them about things that have happened during the writing process. I seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y'all!

Author's note: Okay, one more before I actually follow my posting rule for a bit until I catch up some lol. From this chapter until like chapter 38, are my favorite bunch of chapters so far lol. I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I hope you love this chapter as well!

Stella went about her morning routine, well late afternoon routine, since she let herself sleep most of the day away. She was taking it easy. John had given her the day off, and she gave herself off from caring today. The last few weeks, hell few months, had been wild. She needed to reset. The horses would be just fine without her for one day.

She idly walked around the house, cleaning as she went, heading toward the laundry room with towels from the upstairs bathroom. Her cheek smarted off and on. She was irritated at the feeling. There was a lot of wishing that she had taken a different route of distraction. ‘Shoulda busted out a window.’ She giggled at herself.

Then there was the problem with Kayce. Well, it was her problem really. She felt so stupid. Of course he missed Monica. She was the love of his life. They had worked hard to build the relationship they had. Stella was just the outsider. She couldn’t believe she had the gall to think that Kayce would choose her over Monica. Of course he wouldn’t. He didn’t back before he met his wife, and he most definitely wouldn’t now.

Her eyes stung with unshed tears for herself. Clearing her throat she shook her head. Even though she clearly heard him admit they hadn’t reconciled anything, it still didn’t make her feel any better. She never thought she would be in the position of being the “other woman”. It was done and over with. Stella convinced herself that she had to push the feelings away and just go to work and do her thing and leave. She might even talk to John about moving to that new position sooner.

There was a knock on her front door that pulled her from her pity party. Her front door was out by the road, and in her kitchen. Anyone who would have come here knew she used the back door. Her eyebrows knitted together. It couldn’t be her brother considering they had crossed words the last time they spoke. It definitely wasn’t Kayce because Stella was absolutely convinced that Rip scared him off enough last night.

The only person, well maybe two people, from the ranch it could have been would be Lloyd coming to check on her, or Rip bringing her car to her. Anyone else would have just called. She dropped the arm load of towels unceremoniously in front of the washer with a huff.

Sweeping back the few locks of hair that had slipped from her hair bow, she traveled her way to the front door. A knock came again as she got closer. “I’m comin’, I’m comin’!” Stella repositioned her glasses and her face scrunched even further when she saw who was on her doorstep.

Both men were brought to attention when the doorknob turned and the door swung open. “What can I help you with, gentlemen?” Stella questioned. She leaned against the door frame and kept her foot against the back of the door. She left just enough space to talk to them without it being obvious she wanted to keep them out. There was something about them that Stella didn’t trust.

“Oh hi, sweetheart.” Stella cringed inward at the man with platinum blond hair that stood before her. He continued before she had a chance to respond. “We wanted to apologize for yesterday. Our man should have never put his hands on you.” He motioned to her bruised, angry cheek.

Stella shrugged. “Shit happens.” She felt like there was more to it.

“We also want to talk to you about this nice little plot of land you got here.”

Stella stood tall. Well, if her five foot seven could be considered tall. “The answer is no. I’m not selling, redeveloping, or any of that.” She adjusted her foothold on the door. “I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

The man scoffed at her gall. “Malcolm Beck. We met yesterday.” He inched a bit closer. “You’re just like that employer of yours. You know that?”

Her reply was flat. “I fail to see the similarity.” That was a lie. She saw it loud and clear in the immediate defense of her property. “I also fail to see the purpose a real estate developer and the head of the liquor license board has with a horse trainer. Let alone visiting said horse trainer at her personal property.”

“Well, you just so happen to work for a ranch that has become a thorn in many peoples’ sides.”

“Oh is that right?” Her question bordered on sarcastic.

Malcolm made a snarky face. “That would be correct, little lady. And it’s very apparent why you fit right in with your little friend’s father.”

Stella clicked her tongue in annoyance. “I don’t know where you got your information, Mr. Beck, but it’s incorrect.”

“Is it?” He scooted even closer. Stella noticed his foot at the bottom of her door. She braced herself against it. He carried on. “You mean to tell me that you’re not Stella Lee Daniels, born November 2, 1992? Just about two and a half years after your current, and only, best friend? Kayce John Dutton? Born April 24, 1990?” Stella swallowed thickly. “Sister to Ryan Stephen Daniels? Born October 11, 1988? Wrangler for the Yellowstone Dutton Ranch since he was 18 years old, and is now also lead livestock agent for one John Dutton?”

Stella pursed her lips at being read so clearly. “So what if I am? I have nothing to do with you. I’m just a glorified ranch hand, my guy.”

“You also followed in your brother’s footsteps, becoming employed by the ranch tycoon at age 18. You bought your 2018 Subaru Forester when you were 22, and this plot when you turned 24.”

“Okay and? I saved up a lot.”

“And you almost surely became a soft spot for everyone on that ranch after this many years.”

Stella shrugged. “Ehh, I would beg to differ on that.”

“You would be so wrong.” Malcolm stepped back and adjusted his hat. “I’ll be seeing you, real soon. Take care now.” He tipped the brim of his hat at her.

Stella remained tense as she watched them walk back to their car. She wanted to be completely sure they left her property. They hopped in and started to drive out to the road. Her eyes followed them for as far as she could see them and she continued looking in that direction for a few minutes after they were out of her sight.

She dropped back against the door frame and let out a breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding. She whispered to herself. “Fuck.”

Stella took off in a sprint to find her cell phone. A call to Rip needed to be made. She needed to get back to the ranch.

Rip got out of the driver’s seat of Stella’s car when they got back to the ranch. He turned to look at her as she rounded the front of the car. “You get yourself home now. It’s your day off.”

“I will. I unfortunately gotta talk to my brother first.”

Rip sent a disciplinary look her way.

Stella’s hands flew up in submission. “No fighting. I promise. I don’t have the energy for that.”

“Okay.” Rip nodded. She blinked at his easy approval as he started to walk away. “But don’t let me hear about you being difficult. I gotta go help burn the field.” The threat from him was open ended.

She smirked. “Yeah yeah.” She wouldn’t have expected his response to be anything different. “Oh Rip?” He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “Thank you.” She said softly. Stella could have sworn she saw a small smile on the gruff cowboy’s face before he nodded again and continued on his way.

Stella stared off into nothingness sitting at the picnic tables. The run in earlier with Malcolm Beck still fresh in her mind. The search for her brother had proved to be easier than she thought. She had found him with Kayce in the barn about 20 minutes prior. She needed to build up the courage to speak with both of them.

She could hear Kayce and Ryan coming out of the barn, talking amongst themselves about the dead cattle situation. She wasn’t thrilled having to talk to either of them, but it was now or never, and she wasn’t ready to hold her peace.

At first, everyone thought it was Dan Jenkins. He was the only person that was actively trying to get a piece of the Yellowstone’s acreage. It made sense that everyone immediately thought of him. Stella on the other hand was beginning to have second thoughts. She heard Ryan’s voice falter. He must have seen her zoned out. Or he was thinking of all the ways he was about to yell at her.

Ryan questioned gently. “Stellee? What’s wrong?” It normally wasn’t a good thing when Stella took to zoning out. With her being hit yesterday, he was worried something might have been off. She had her back to them and was straddling the picnic bench. He put aside his annoyance with her carelessness, and made his way over to face her as he sat down mirroring her position. He bent his head to try and catch her thousand yard stare. Stella raised her head and made eye contact with her brother. The look on her face had him nervous.

Kayce thought he would give the siblings a minute to themselves. He had heard about the argument they had yesterday after he left. They needed to hash things out. He also thought he should avoid Stella at all costs. He ducked his head and kept moving. Stella would find him later if she needed to. At least, that had been his plan.

She broke the nonverbal communication with her brother. Her head snapped in Kayce’s direction. “Kayce, I need you to be over here too.”

His boots slid on the gravel as he stopped short. He pivoted back to the sibling pair. “Oh? What for?”

“It has to do with those cattle and who we think did it.”

He sat on the opposite side of the table. “You have my attention.”

Stella turned to look at Kayce. “So the obvious answer at first was Jenkins. He wants Yellowstone land, and he’s greedy.”

“Yeah that’s a well known fact. Something tells me you don’t feel that way.” Ryan guessed.

She started to explain. “Other than the fact that he’s quite the city boy and he wouldn’t know a steer from a bull, even if we pointed it out to him, I just had the pleasure of Malcolm Beck —,” Kayce interrupted her when he sprung up from the table.

“What do you mean? Are they nosing around here again?”

Stella reached out to grab his hand to stop him. “No, no, no. They’re not here.” Instinctually, Kayce grabbed hers back. They made quick eye contact as they felt a buzz run through their arms. Stella swiftly released him. She ignored the feeling and looked back to her brother.

“I ran into Malcolm and his brother while I was out this morning.” She lied and pushed her glasses up and continued. “I asked what the head of the state liquor license board had to do with talking to a ranch worker, he said somethin’ about my property blah blah blah, but it’s what he said to me after that made me perk my ears up real quick.”

“Did he threaten you?” Ryan’s voice was dangerously grave. He and Kayce were ready to rock right then.

“Not exactly?” Stella didn’t want to have them go on a reckless warpath just because Malcolm had metaphorically whipped it out to compare size.

“What did he say, Stella?” Kayce questioned.

“He said, and I quote, “Well, you work for a farm that has begun to be a thorn in peoples’ sides.” So I asked him, “Is that right?” He confirmed and then he proceeded to tell me all about myself. My date of birth, the kind of car I drive, my brother’s full name, his profession, who my best friend is, every little detail. I was half surprised that he didn’t know the color of underwear I have on today.”

“Fuck that!” Ryan exclaimed while he jumped up from the table.

Stella wasn’t far behind him and Kayce was right behind her. “Ryan no!” She gripped his arm. He spun and looked at her. “I didn’t really react but I’m sure they could tell they had hit a nerve. I’m more than certain that they’re just trying to push buttons. Why did they choose me? I don’t know.”

“Well they made a stupid decision by doing so.” Kayce claimed.

She rolled her eyes as she faced both her best friend and brother. “Anyway… may I offer a suggestion?” The men nodded at her. “I would still go talk to Jenkins, but I’m starting to have a feeling it may have been someone else. I’ll talk to your dad and Rip about my run in if you guys promise to not go buck wild.” The doe eyes came out. “Please?”

Kayce pressed his lips together and observed Stella. She was nervous, but not scared. “Well we’ve already visited Jenkins. So we were one step ahead of you. I actually have to go talk to my dad.” He cast his gaze over top of her head and found that Ryan was already looking at him. His eyes almost pleaded with him to make sure she actually followed through. Ryan knew that if anyone could make her do it, it was Kayce.

Kayce decided. “We’ll take you up to the big house. We’ll tell Rip to meet us up there.”

“Deal.” Stella agreed.

Kayce pulled the truck up in front of his dad’s house. Stella was in the front seat, ready to hop out when he put the truck in park. Stella looked at the big house looming over their side. She chewed on her bottom lip thinking about all the possible ways this conversation could go.

Kayce watched as she contemplated the situation. “It’s just us and my dad, Stell. Everything’ll be fine.”

She sighed. “I know. I just…,” she left it open ended because she honestly didn’t know what to say. Let alone to Kayce at the moment.

Stella reached for the handle quickly and popped open the door. “Well, it’s now or never, right?” She stated with a long sigh. The sound of hooves gave the welcome distraction she was looking for. Rip and her brother made it to the house.

When she turned around, she gave a small smile to Ryan and Rip, and glanced at Kayce but averted her eyes quickly.

Ryan watched the interaction between them. Stella positioned herself toward the door to the house, almost like she wanted to be as far as physically possible away from Kayce. Ryan squinted his eyes in silent question, but thought it might be better to wait.

Stella looked at the house. “Shall we?”

The men fell into stride next to her as they made their way onto the steps.

“I thought I told you to get yourself home, Stella-belle.” Rip said to her.

“Well, the reason I had to talk to my brother should also be brought up to you and Mr. Dutton too. Then I’ll make my way home, since you want rid of me so bad.” She giggled.

“C’mon now. Don’t put words in my mouth.” They all climbed the last couple steps in silence.

Rip opened the front door for her and ushered her inside. The foursome walked through the living room to the back hallway that led to John’s office. He was catching himself up on some paperwork before he finished up for the day. John heard the boot steps coming in his direction and lifted his head. There was a look of confusion on his face at the sight of his head wrangler, foreman, lead livestock agent, and his horse trainer coming at him. John thought it sounded like the beginning of a bad joke.

“Why are all of you here?” He questioned.

Stella walked further into his office. She thought about how to tell him. It was a lot more intimidating than she thought it would be. “I’m sorry to bother you, sir, but Malcolm Beck visited my house this afternoon.”