#i wasn’t even telling her to buy it or anything like she lit had no reason to say that

[rosslovesspn]

when you ask your mam if you can buy a binder with your bday money after she gave you a speech about how you need to spend the money on yourself not your friends for xmas and she responds with the ‘I’m planning my mother’s funeral rn’ guilt trip card when you weren’t being a bitch to her at all like what ⁉️⁉️

obviously i get she’s busy and i respect that but i wasn’t even trying to suggest anything bad i was just asking, and she assumes that i haven’t done any research myself and that i’m implying something by asking her if i can buy one like hold up- 😭😭

[corruptedcaps]

What a drag

Anna was worried about her best friend Chloe. It wasn’t just that Chloe had started smoking, though that was odd enough. It was how the cigarettes seemed to changed her.

Anna first noticed it during one of their usual hangouts at their local coffee shop. Chloe lit up a cigarette, her fingers effortlessly handling it like it was something she did every day. There was something in the way she exhaled the smoke, how her eyes seemed to glitter with a new, almost unsettling confidence. At first, Anna thought it was just in her head, but as the days passed, it became impossible to ignore.

Chloe was more vain now, always checking her reflection, fussing over her hair, her clothes. She wore makeup Anna had never seen her use before. Seductive red lipstick, winged eyeliner, bold choices that made her look stunning but unlike her. She had started dressing differently too. Wearing dresses that barely covered anything, plunging necklines that showed off an impressive rack that Anna had never noticed before.

The looks Anna could have seen past but her attitude was changing from the kind and sweet girl Anna knew into some sort of vapid and arrogant 'it' girl that was more unrecognizable by the day.

Anna had started to suspect that all the changes had something to do with the cigarettes when she noticed that no matter how many Chloe smoked, the box always seemed full. At first, Anna dismissed it as a trick of the light or her own imagination. But the more she watched, the more convinced she became that something unnatural was going on. So she put together a plan to get her Chloe back.

One afternoon, while they were sitting in the park, Chloe excused herself to use the restroom, leaving her purse behind. Anna’s heart pounded as she saw the cigarette box peeking out. This was her chance. Quickly, she rummaged through her own bag, pulling out a regular pack of cigarettes she had bought earlier, just in case. With trembling hands, she swapped them, slipping Chloe’s strange, never-ending box into her own pocket.

When Chloe returned, she didn’t notice a thing. She took out a cigarette from the new box and lit it, but Anna could tell immediately that something was different. Chloe seemed puzzled for a moment, almost repulsed by the cigarette she was smoking. Her confident demeanor wavering slightly as she took another drag.

"Em, is it ok if we call it a day? I'm not feeling to good at the moment." Chloe asked rather sheepishly.

"Oh yeah of course, just text me when you get back." Anna said hugging Chloe and feeling the familiar embrace back. That was when she knew she had done the right thing.

Anna walked home with a sense of relief, convinced that Chloe's strange transformation would soon reverse. She had done what she needed to do. As she stepped through the front door, she called out, "Hi, Mom!"

"Hi, honey," her mother, Debra, replied from the kitchen. But then her voice sharpened with concern, "What’s that in your pocket?"

Anna froze. In the rush of swapping the cigarette boxes, she had completely forgotten about the one she had slipped into her pocket. She had meant to toss it out on the way home but had totally forgot. Guilt prickled her skin as she pulled out the mysterious pack, holding it awkwardly in her hand.

"They're not mine I swear! They’re Chloe’s." Anna stammered, her voice faltering under her mother’s piercing gaze. But Debra wasn’t buying it.

"Anna, don’t lie to me. I didn’t raise you to be liar, or a smoker!" Her mother said, her tone both stern and disappointed. "You’re going to sit here and smoke every last one of those, then you’ll realize smoking isn’t so cool."

Anna’s heart dropped. She opened her mouth to protest, to explain everything, to say how the cigarettes were somehow magic but even as she thought it she knew how ridiculous it sounded. Plus once her mother set her mind to something, she wouldn't budge. Debra was already setting up an ashtray on the table, her expression unyielding.

Anna hesitantly took out a cigarette, her hands trembling. As she lit it and took a drag, she was surprised by the taste. It was sweet and smooth, not at all what she expected. She understood now why Chloe was so put off of the pack she had switched. The smoke felt oddly comforting as it filled Anna's lungs, leaving her feeling almost...good. Relaxed. She took another puff, sinking deeper into the sensation.

But as Anna exhaled, something odd began to happen. Unbeknownst to her or Debra, her fingernails started to lengthen, growing into a perfectly manicured set painted red. They gleamed with an unnatural sheen, elegant and sharp, as if they had always been that way. Anna, lost in the sweet smoke, didn’t even notice the transformation.

Anna finished the first cigarette, exhaling slowly as the sweet aftertaste lingered on her lips. "Can I go now?" She asked in a slightly bratty tone.

But Debra crossed her arms, her expression firm. "No. You’re going to smoke every cigarette in that box, just like I said."

Rolling her eyes, Anna took out another cigarette and lit it. As she brought it to her lips and took a deep drag, more changes began to take place. Her chest started to swell, gradually expanding beneath her shirt, still unnoticed by either her or Debra. The sensation was so gradual, so natural, that it didn’t register as anything unusual.

Meanwhile, as the nicotine worked its way through her system, Anna’s thoughts began to shift. She found herself caring less about her mother’s disapproval and more about how good she felt. A sense of superiority started to creep in, an arrogant voice in her mind whispering that she deserved to do whatever she wanted and fuck the consequences.

Her mother wasn’t the only growing irritation in her as she started to feel her eyes were blurring. Taking off her glasses she found to her wonder that her eyesight was sharper than it ever was.

Without waiting for her mother’s instruction, Anna reached for another cigarette and lit it with practiced ease. It was becoming second nature to her now, the act of smoking feeling as natural as breathing. She inhaled deeply, the sweet smoke filling her lungs with a comforting warmth.

As she exhaled, her thoughts of her mother darkened. "Who is she to tell me what to do?" Anna thought, the arrogance growing stronger within her. A wave of irritation washed over her as she glanced at Debra, her mind swirling with mean, dismissive thoughts. “She’s just a jealous old hag. She’ll never understand what it’s like to be this… perfect.”

As Anna continued to smoke, the changes in her body accelerated. Her hair began to grow longer and thicker until it cascaded down her back in luxurious waves. Her waist subtly tightened, drawing in to create a more pronounced hourglass figure. Meanwhile, her lips softened and plumped, taking on a fuller, more seductive shape that made her face look almost doll-like.

As Anna stubbed out her cigarette, she didn’t hesitate before pulling out yet another. She lit it with a smirk, her eyes gleaming with a newfound superiority as she looked at her mother. The changes within her had solidified, leaving little trace of the shy, nerdy girl she once was.

Debra, seeing her plan backfire, grew alarmed. “It’s okay, Anna. You can stop now.” She said, her voice tinged with fear and regret.

But Anna refused, a mocking smile playing on her now-plump lips. “Oh, no, Mommy, you were right. I do need to be punished.” She purred, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She took a long, deliberate drag. She curled her lips into an ‘o’ and puffed out a perfect circle. The ring rising about her head like a sinister halo.

As Anna inhaled deeply, the smoke seemed to take on a life of its own, swirling around her body before seeping into her clothes. The baggy t-shirt she wore began to tighten, the fabric transforming as if molded by the smoke itself. It shrank and shifted, morphing into a tight, revealing black bodycon dress that clung to her newly sculpted tits, accentuating every curve.

At the same time, her face began to change even more dramatically. Thick makeup appeared, as if applied by an invisible hand. Dark eyeshadow that made her eyes smolder, sharp eyeliner, and deep pink lipstick that highlighted her now-plump lips.

Anna looked over at the nearby mirror and for a moment panicked at what she saw. Staring back at her was a gorgeous brunette wrapped in the tightest outfit she had ever saw. This wasn’t the nerdy and weak girl she saw every morning, no this was a wicked bitch who commanded respect.

Her shocked expression soon turned into an evil grin as she took another drag of her cigarette. She had been right, it was the cigarettes after all. They had made her into everything she feared Chloe would become and she loved it. Chloe's transformation had been slow because she had been unknowingly pacing herself. Anna had been forced to corrupt herself she was glad she had.

As Anna grabbed another cigarette and put it between her perfect lips, Debra reached out and snatched the box of cigarettes from Anna’s hand. She had finally clocked the transformation in her daughter. “That’s enough.” She said, her voice trembling with both fear and desperation. But as she glanced inside the box, her heart skipped a beat, it was still full, as if none of the cigarettes had been smoked at all.

Anna watched her mother’s reaction with a cold, detached amusement. She sat with her legs crossed, taking another drag out of her cigarette. “Give them back.” She said, her voice dripping with a calm, almost lazy menace.

“No, Anna! We need to find someone who can help you. This isn’t right, none of this is right.” Debra insisted, clutching the box tightly.

Anna’s expression remained unchanged as she let out a soft sarcastic sigh. She took a long, deliberate drag from her cigarette, exhaling a thick plume of smoke directly into her mother’s face. The smoke curled around Debra, who gasped and coughed as it invaded her lungs, forcing its way into her system.

“I said, give those back, Debra.” Anna repeated, her tone icy and commanding. Her use of her mother’s first name was chilling.

Debra’s resistance crumbled under the weight of Anna’s words. Her hands, once so firm in their grip on the cigarette box, trembled as she slowly extended it back to Anna. She didn’t understand why, but she felt compelled, almost powerless to do anything else. With a shaky breath, she handed the box over, her heart heavy with dread as she realized how much control she had lost.

Anna took the box in her long nailed hand, taking out another cigarette and lighting it off of the still unfinished one in her hand. She looked at the new cigarette light up with a subtle flash of pink. Somehow she knew that this would cause whoever smoked it to become her slave.

“Here Debbie, take a nice long drag.” Anna said holding out the cigarette for her mother to take. Again Debra felt incapable of refusing. Anna smirked darkly to herself as her mother reluctantly begin to smoke. Casually flipping over the box of cigarettes in her hand, she read the warning she hadn't noticed before, 'Contains Bitchotine.'

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Destiny is all

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: it's almost a tradition now 😊 and it's always so much fun and so easy to work with you – my creative and talented beloved cowriter @little-diable 💖 Thank you for sharing this gorgeous idea and thank you for writing it with me.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, fluff, angst

Summary: Reading a new book is always exciting, sparking one's imagination with endless possibilities contained within its pages. But if you had known what unexpected turn of destiny awaited after turning that first page, would you have still dared to open its ancient, weathered cover?

Word Count: 6,3 K

The shop was dimly lit, only a few yellowish lights managed to flood the endless rows of bookshelves, filled with prints one could no longer buy in other bookshops. Your fingertips tingled as you stroked them along the spines of the old books, taken up by a giddy feeling as if the books were whispering to you, telling stories of old times that once were but no longer are. 

“Are you alright, dear?” The elderly shop owner’s voice ripped you out of your daze, having to blink a few times to try and clear your head. You could only nod your head with a soft smile glued to your lips – this was pure heaven for you, a history-loving soul desperate to fill your mind with old stories of people you were researching. 

“Have you already explored the medieval section back there?” It wasn’t your first time in the shop, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but you hadn’t ever explored that section, not finding the time to get properly lost in these tales. 

“I haven’t! Anything you can recommend?” You followed the woman to the section she had pointed towards, unable to stop your gasps as she showed you the leatherbound books that were centuries old. Even though they weren’t in your price range, you couldn’t help but look at them, carefully thumbing through them with awe laced in your gaze. 

“Here, this has always been a favourite of mine. Have you heard of Uhtred of Bamburgh before?” Slowly, you shook your head as you took the small booklet from her hand. It seemed to be a reprint, covering faded-out writings with newer ones. “I think you may find his story fascinating.” 

With a quick look at the handwritten price tag, you tightened your grip on the booklet, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to leave it behind. It felt as if it were whispering to you, calling for you to carefully listen to the secrets it wanted to share with you. And with another stroke along its spine, you let go of a soft, “I’ll take it.”

Your eyes were focused on your living room windows, watching the setting sun with a cup of tea held between your palms. The purchase you made earlier was lying next to you on your couch, begging you to explore it. But something was holding you back, something that forced you to hold still, trying to sort through your confusing thoughts. 

Soft music filled your apartment, cosying you along in old Norse, telling of warriors, battles won, and bloodshed. With a deep exhale clawing through you, almost as if you were preparing for a battle yourself, you placed your cup down, only to reach for the thin booklet. 

“Alright, Uhtred. Who were you?” It didn’t take long for the story to pull you in, managing to fascinate you from the first page on. Somehow, it felt as if you were reading the story of an old friend, somebody you had once known, letting an unfamiliar mix of emotions rise deep inside of you. 

The tale of Uhtred’s life grew darker with every page, telling you about his first family, those set to kill him, turning towards the fire that killed members of his second loving family, and eventually to King Alfred. Something told you that Alfred took up some third father-like figure to the young warrior, another battle Uhtred had been asked to fight – next to the wars he had successfully won. 

Halfway through the book, you had to place it down, unable to focus on another detail of war strategies and analysis of Uhtred’s fighting style. Your eyes wandered back towards the windows as your thumb kept stroking the old paper that had a weird feeling to it. It felt as if the original substance of the book had been mixed with new paper, torn between different centuries.

As your eyes found back towards the page your thumb was stroking, you froze up. You found yourself staring at some kind of scribblings, handwritten words that hadn’t been there minutes ago. Your mind was racing as you deciphered the medieval writing, grateful for all these transcription courses you had taken. 

For years, I have followed Uhtred - the Dane slayer, the Kingmaker, the Heathen, the greatest warrior to ever walk the lands of Wessex, Mercia, and beyond. A man whose deeds are destined to be forgotten, his name erased from the chronicles, banished from the memories of those he bled for. For it shall not be recorded that the greatness of Alfred was built upon Uhtred's broad shoulders. But I bear witness to this truth.

It is my sacred honour and burdensome duty to transcribe the tale of unswerving loyalty and sage counsel, of unflinching bravery and brazen defiance, but most of all, the tale of a friendship forged in the unrelenting storms of suffering and pain, as equally as by shared joy and laughter. A bond that carried us through life's journey cradled in its calloused yet gentle hands.

In this year of our Lord's blessed incarnation 896, being the 25th year of the reign of Alfred, King of the West Saxons, I, Osferth, set quill to parchment to weave our tale...

You rubbed your eyes in awe, transfixed by the words that seemed to float untethered before you. With a reverent breath, you plunged back into reading, devouring page after page that unveiled a rich tapestry of events - battles clashing like tides, alliances forged in desperation only to be treacherously abandoned, kings risen and just as abruptly dethroned, sacred oaths sworn solemnly yet shattered without remorse.

And as your fingers trailed along the final lines of each turned page, you felt the aged, yellowed vellum shudder beneath your questioning gaze and as if sensing your yearning for more the book yielded to your unspoken plea. The uneven scratchings of the young monk's hand shimmered into view, revealing a remarkable story, a tale more astonishing than the chronicles of England's bloody birth.

It was not the tale about the glory of battles or the intricate ways the powerful played with the people's fates that enraptured and didn’t let go, but the tale of an extraordinary friendship moulded between the most unlikely of companions. A lord severed from his birthright, an Irish prince bearing the burdens of his brother's cruelty, a bastard Dane haunted by the atrocities of his kin, and a fallen monk walking the perilous line between his vows to God and the warrior’s path.

You couldn't deny that the more you read, the more your attention was drawn to the young Dane’s tale, as you followed his journey from an endearingly insecure but headstrong youth ready to fight for his place at Uhtred's side, to a hardened and cunning warrior - Uhtred's trusted companion and artful spy.

"Sihtric, the Dane boy looks like a rat," you murmured under your breath. "Mismatched eyes, one dark and one pale. Unruly curls the very shade of a raven's wing. The strongest and most formidable arms in all the shires, and beneath that muscled, battle-hardened shell… a heart yearning for love's tender embrace,” you smiled, recalling bits and pieces of Osferth’s descriptions.

"I wonder what you truly looked like, Sihtric? What kind of a man were you in the flesh?" You whispered softly, trying to conjure every nuanced detail committed to parchment by the young monk's quill. 

You closed your eyes, trying to picture the fierce Danish warrior in your mind's eye, as you imagined a powerful, muscular man with a furrowed brow and striking, contrasting eyes that seemed to miss nothing. 

"Lady? Lady, are you alright?" An unknown voice suddenly shattered your reverie. You startled, eyes fluttering wide open as your heart pounded with fear. The scream that ripped through you was shrill, a sound so unexpected the man instantly took a step away. 

With your body trembling, you sat up, letting your eyes take in the unfamiliar surroundings. You were surrounded by trees while sitting on the mossy ground. Had the man kidnapped you from your apartment? Had he dragged you out here to do god knows what?

“Where am I? Who are you?” Panic dripped from your voice as you spoke. You allowed yourself to take him in, the mismatched eyes, the dark curls, even the necklace he wore, shaped in some kind of a “T”. 

“Are you sick, lady?” The man crouched down in front of you as his concerned eyes took in your features, seemingly trying to find wounds, scratches or something else. You could only shake your head, slowly realising that he was carrying a weapon, though no gun like you had expected, but a sword. 

“I won’t ask again, who are you? And why aren’t I at home, in my apartment?” Confusion tugged on his features, he seemingly was just as lost as you were. This felt like a nightmare, some dream you were now stuck in and couldn’t escape. 

“My name is Sihtric, lady. I’m afraid I don’t know where your home is nor where apartment lies. We are in Mercia.” He studied you for another moment before he reached his hand out for you to take. “Here, let me help you up.”

Slowly, you gave in, letting him pull you to your feet, and instantly taking a step away from him. Your surroundings were spinning as your mind kept racing. This must be some dream, something that the story had pushed through you as it couldn’t be a coincidence that you were now standing in front of the very Sihtric you had read about. 

“So if you are Sihtric, are you travelling with Osferth? With Uhtred? Even with Finan?” Sarcasm dripped from your words, followed by the hysterical chuckles you couldn’t swallow. Whatever this was, it felt all too surreal, something your mind could barely grasp. 

Just as Sihtric parted his lips to reply, his name was called by a man who appeared with his sword raised and his hard gaze set on your features. You gave yourself a moment to study him, the short brown hair, the muscular arms exposed by the armour he wore, somewhat matching Sihtric’s. 

“Is she sick?” His Irish accent instantly told you that this must be Finan, but his question distracted you from any other detail you could pick up on. Sick? You didn’t know much about sicknesses in earlier periods, but you knew enough to understand that sicknesses were much deadlier in the past than they were for you with modern medicine. 

“I don’t think so.” Sihtric shot you a soft smile before he turned towards Finan, “She’s no threat, lower your sword.”

But Finan didn’t move, he kept staring you down, taking your clothes that were all too different to theirs, forcing you to stand out even further. Without moving too much, you tried to pinch yourself to wake from this strange dream, but no matter how hard you tugged on your arm, nothing changed, you were still standing on the same spot, close to the two men.

“The sickness will kill us all! Leave her here, I don’t trust strangers to tell the truth.” Finan turned from you as if he expected Sihtric to blindly follow the command. But Sihtric didn’t follow him, at least not before softly taking your hand to pull you with him. 

“Come, let’s find Uhtred, he will want to meet you, lady.” 

Still certain that this was just a vivid dream, you allowed yourself to be led by the firm grip of Sihtric's calloused palm against yours, wondering what other fantastical tricks your obviously overactive mind had prepared.

"Who is this?" Uhtred's voice rumbled deeply with a distinct accent. You recognized him instantly because of the iconic sword slung across his back - The Serpent's Breath - its hilt adorned with an amber stone, just as described in Osferth's records.

"I found her sleeping in the woods, Lord," Sihtric replied, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. "The lady seems quite lost." He leaned in closer to Uhtred, lowering his voice though you could still hear, "She speaks of strange things and appears to know who we are."

You laughed lightly. "Of course I know who you are. I've read all about you." This earned you a strange nod and sympathetic shrug from Sihtric, as if he thought you addled. In truth you  were already starting to question your own sanity as your knees began to wobble and you slumped down onto a nearby giant tree root.

As much as you wished to wake from this strange dream, you remained unable to. So you just sat there, witnessing the hushed discussion between the medieval warriors, catching their furtive, suspicious glances cast your way.

You could make out a few words - Finan suggesting they leave you behind, afraid your evident madness was a sign of sickness. But Sihtric argued against abandoning a confused lady alone in the wilderness. You weren't sure which option you preferred, as both seemed equally perilous - travelling with these savage strangers to an unknown destination, or being left alone in the vast forest.

"The lady comes with us," Uhtred's verdict reached your ears. "We can't leave her and risk our pursuers discovering which way we've gone."

"But Lord..." Finan tried to interject, only to be silenced by Uhtred's stern gaze as another woman appeared from the trees, accompanied by three children and two young monks.

"We've refilled the flasks from the stream," she said, eyes widening at the sight of you.

"We have company," Uhtred explained, turning towards you. "Lady, are you good with children?"

“Children? No, I'm not," you exclaimed, remembering the last time you visited your sister when your five-year-old nephew managed to slip a farting pillow beneath you as you were seated at the dinner table with guests over. You had no idea until you shifted in your seat, causing the pillow to loudly blast a sound that made you freeze. Your face flushed beet red as the other guests tried to stifle their laughter while that small devil in disguise found it hysterical, rolling on the floor in a fit of giggles. 

"Well, we aren't either," Uhtred shrugged, and the decision was apparently settled.

The wild run through the woods, with only the vast sky as the roof overhead and fallen leaves serving as a bed, had been exhausting. Yet, you found yourself astonished by the unexpected company you were forced to travel with. Everything you had read about these men, now serving as both your guards and protectors, seemed to ring true. 

A wry laugh escaped your lips as you caught yourself thinking that after centuries of hard-fought battles for women's emancipation and equal rights, it took an extraordinary twist of fate to transport you into the midst of the Middle Ages, to finally encounter men who regarded you not as an object to be possessed or used.

"Lady, tell me more about your home. Where do you hail from?" Sihtric settled beside you, handing you the flask filled with water.

While Finan maintained a wary distance, likely still unconvinced of the absence of any impending danger that you might be carrying the sickness within you, Sihtric was the polar opposite. The young and handsome Dane, with his striking half-shaved hairstyle that allowed dark locks to curl freely on one side, seemed genuinely drawn to you. More importantly, he appeared to believe you when you attempted to explain that you were not from here, not even from a distant land or kingdom.

Even if the concept of time travel was something he was unable to grasp, for which you couldn’t blame him, Sihtric's curiosity remained piqued, and he was eager to learn more about the strange place you called home. 

"Please, tell us about those weird carriages that drive alone without being pulled by a horse," Aethelstan pleaded, seating himself on the ground before you. You smiled, amused by the fact that boys remained boys across centuries. However, before you could begin your tale, you felt the small and fragile frame of Aelfwynn carefully cuddling against your side, her thin and icy hands wrapping around your waist as if seeking solace in the warmth of your body.

Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her closer, and for a brief moment, you savoured the serenity and strange calmness that enveloped you. Unnoticed, against every expectation, these children had enchanted you from the very first day of your unexpected journey.

Aethelstan, a solemn young boy far too serious for his age, gazed at you with wide, inquisitive eyes carrying a deep sadness. When you had simply asked his name, his response astounded you - "I'm no one," he uttered, as if it were something normal, even self-evident.

His quiet sobs woke you in the night. Though asleep, tears covered his cheeks as his small body shook, a soft cry slipping out, "Mummy, where are you? Don't leave me alone." You moved closer, fingers soothingly running through his hair. Suddenly, his little arms wrapped around you. With his nose buried in your chest, a shy smile graced his lips as he calmed, his breathing turning smooth and even. Not knowing what else to do, you just held him a little tighter, watching his small, thin face lighten in the dim light of the fading moon, his eyes tightly shut, wishing you could do something to shield him from this harsh world.

But it was Aelfwynn who worried you even more. She was a lovely, timid child, so beautiful and yet so fragile. It was evident the arduous journey on foot through the woods, meadows, hills and valleys was taking its toll on her. She grew paler with each passing day, her hands like ice, yet every time she pressed herself against you, you could feel her body burning. 

"We need to rest more. The children can't keep up this pace," you said worriedly to Sihtric after finishing your fanciful story about cars. Both Aethelstan and Aelfwynn had listened with mouths agape, as if you had spun the most fantastical fairy tale.

Sihtric's gaze lingered on you perhaps a moment too long, his eyes radiating warmth, before turning away. "You speak truly," he finally replied, "but we dare not linger. We are being pursued. Every mile we put between us and our pursuers could mean the difference between life and death. One of your marvellous self-driving carriages would be quite useful now." He gave you a small smile before rising and heading to Uhtred.

You were relieved to see Sihtric had indeed conveyed your concerns, as the following days were considerably less strenuous, with more pauses for rest. Still, Aelfwynn's condition worsened until her waning strength required her to be carried from time to time. It was often Sihtric who first noticed the pain contorting the small girl's face, offering his broad back without prompting, and you found yourself musing at how accurately Osferth's descriptions had painted his strong, but caring and observant friend.

The tender attentiveness Sihtric showed towards everybody contrasted sharply with his imposing warrior's build hinting that there were evident depths to this man beyond his formidable exterior.

Your hand squeezed Aelfwynn's small palm tighter as you dragged her along, feeling her stumble and whine painfully as she tumbled to the ground. You pulled her back to her feet, running for your lives as the thundering hooves of pursuers closed in. Fear propelled you forward, even as your strength waned with each stumbling step of the frantic flight.

Aelfwynn stumbled again, and suddenly strong arms scooped her up.

"Run, lady! Don't stop!" Sihtric's voice urged. You didn't need telling twice, feet pounding the earth until the frenzied hunt came to an abrupt halt at the river's edge. Blood rushed deafening in your ears as your eyes frantically jumped from armed man to armed man surrounding your small company, bows drawn taut. A feeling of doom crept in.

You felt two pairs of small, trembling arms wrap around your waist from each side. Placing your hands on their shoulders, you carefully shoved both Aethelstan and Aelfwynn behind you, taking a resolute step forward ready to shield them with your own body if necessary as Uhtred and the others lined up before you.

"Lady, take it," Sihtric said, extending his arm with a hunting knife behind his back. You reached out, trembling fingers wrapping around the hilt, but he didn't relinquish his grip, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Use with care, I'll want it back." His mismatched eyes bored into yours as he let go, the weight of the dagger settling into your palm along with the calming effect of his words.

With no other hope, you clung to those simple words like a lifeline in a storming sea, pooling all your strength and courage into your balled fist clutching the unfamiliar weapon, while you watched the bizarre scene unfold before you, hope rising from nowhere as Eadith confronted her brother, accusing him of murdering his lord.

"Lady, you are full of surprises," Sihtric's warm voice cut through the haze as you felt his rough fingers gently brush yours, wrapping around your hand and helping you finally loosen your white-knuckled grip on the dagger. "It's over, we are safe for now."

He carefully took the knife, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. "And you told us you are not good with children," the warrior smiled, his gaze hovering over Aethelstan and Aelfwynn still clinging to you.

"Are you sure this will help?" The uncertainty in Sihtric's voice mirrored the doubt clearly visible in everyone's eyes.

"The only thing I'm sure of is that if we do nothing, she may not survive until morning," you pleaded, your gaze moving from Sihtric to Eadith and the others. "We have to lower her fever."

"Lord, if this is the sickness, only God can help her...and us," Finan voiced the fear they all silently harboured.

"I don't care," you whispered, tears shining in the corners of your eyes. "Just bring me linens soaked in cool stream water and find the herbs. I'm staying with her, and I'll do the rest. I'm not afraid." You turned to go to the room where Aelfwynn had been placed.

For you, there was no reason to believe she had contracted the dreaded sickness, but there was little you could explain about infectious diseases to your companions. You understood their fear, but you were by no means ready to give up and leave the child's life to fate. Perhaps this was the reason you had been brought here - to use your modern knowledge to save the life so miraculously entrusted to you. 

The village you had finally reached was nearly abandoned, fear of the sickness driving away all but some elderly inhabitants too feeble to travel or too stubborn to be driven from their lifelong homes. The ancient grandmother who had offered you all shelter in her humble dwelling seemed bent by age, her face and arms weathered by wrinkles, yet her eyes remained kind and warm.

"Don't just stand there gawking. You heard the lady - willow bark, elderflower, linden, and meadowsweet. Go!" the old woman commanded, bony finger pointing at Uhtred, Finan and Sihtric. "Don't fret, child, I'll help you. I'm too old to fear the final caller."

It was Eadith who first snapped out of the solemn, lingering silence. "Osferth - you're coming with me to the stream to fetch cool water," she ordered, and as if by a magic wand, everyone sprang into action.

"I will prepare the different herbal teas as you instructed and bring everything to you. We cannot let her die. She is the future of this kingdom," Eadith said, turning to you and placing a reassuring palm on your shoulder. You nodded gratefully for the unexpected support.

Aelfwynn looked so small and pale, her forehead beaded with sweat, breathing shallow and rapid as you sat by her bedside, holding her thin, burning hand in yours. You raised your head at the creak of the opening door, surprised to see it wasn't only Eadith and the wrinkled landlady entering.

They were followed by the broad-shouldered frame of Sihtric, carrying buckets of cool spring water. He placed them on the bench near the window and turned to you. "Lady, please tell me what else I can do."

"Aren't you afraid of the sickness?" you asked in astonishment.

"I am, it's an invisible enemy that can't be defeated with weapons. But you are here, and you are not afraid, neither is Eadith. I've always known there is an invisible strength in women - a strength to endure, to persist where the toughest men crumble. My own mother had that fortitude." His voice faded on the last words, a veil of sadness spreading over his handsome features.

"I cannot simply stand by watching. Not again..." Sihtric didn't finish the thought, but his haunted expression spoke more than any words could.

You watched him in a new light as he rolled up his sleeves, resolved to offer whatever assistance he could, your regard of him only growing. The young warrior seemed as acquainted with grief as with battle and was willing to place his faith in the quiet courage you and Eadith displayed against an enemy he knew he had no chance of standing against.

Later that night, reassured by Aelfwynn's steady breathing and her hands cooling from the fever's grip, exhaustion finally overwhelmed you and your eyes started drifting shut. It was then that Sihtric's strong yet remarkably gentle arms wrapped around your shoulders and under your knees, cradling you against his chest as he carried you carefully to the other bed in the room before resuming his vigil by the window, watching over your slumbers. 

And as you slowly slipped into restful dreams, you felt an unexpected sense of security and warmth enfolding you. Whatever forces had brought you to this time and place, you were grateful for the chance that was given to you. 

Even though you still struggled to accept that this seemed to be your life now, you found joy in being surrounded by these people who slowly turned into being your friends. By now you were in Aegelsbury, and for the first time since crossing paths with the group, you found yourself being on your own, away from Uhtred who was focused on his duties on becoming ruler of Mercia, even away from Finan and Osferth, who seemed to enjoy their time hiding in alehouses with pretty women. 

You had missed being on your own, giving you a chance to sort through confusing thoughts, fears, and the anticipation you couldn’t shake. This life was anything but easy, and yet it felt like you were finally part of something you had always missed, with these wonderful people and a certain man with dark locks and beautiful eyes you searched at any given chance. 

Being close to Sihtric felt like fate had always planned for you to come together, held apart by too many centuries between you–until you had found your way into this very year. Your heart longed for the strong warrior whenever you were away from him, just the mere thought of him made your heart race in your chest as if he was touching you once again. 

“Lady?” It felt as if he heard your thoughts, lured closer to check up on you as you hid away in the rented room. With a silent curse leaving you, you cleared your throat before calling a small “Yes?”. 

Your eyes were instantly drawn to his mismatched ones, getting lost in their rich colour, the secrets they carried, and the longing you couldn’t help but feel too. Sihtric stepped into the room all too carefully as if he was giving you the chance to make him leave before the door could fall shut behind him.

“I,” he had to avert his gaze as he fumbled with his fingers. “I wanted to see if you were alright, I haven’t seen you since yesterday morning.” 

A rosy tint brushed his cheeks, a sight so lovingly, you couldn’t help but reach your hand out for Sihtric to take. You pulled him closer while trying not to focus on the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, the way his calloused fingertips brushed over your skin, and the heat that began to simmer inside of you. Sihtric was the sweetest temptation, a man the girls at home would all fall for within seconds. 

“I’m good, thank you, Sihtric. I think I am just tired after the past few days.” The soft smile he shot you left you chuckling, unable to bite down your adoration for the tall man. Your hands stayed connected as silence engulfed you two, stroking along your bodies like a snake slithering to Eden, finding shelter in the warmth only your hearts seemed to offer. 

“I didn’t want to disturb your peace, perhaps I should leave you be. But,” the rest of his sentence was left hanging in the air. You could tell that he struggled to put whatever he was feeling into words, coming off as a shy young boy rather than a gruesome warrior who knew no holding back on a battlefield. 

“But what, Sihtric?” He let go of your hand to interlace his fingers in his lap, it seemed as if he was holding himself back from whatever he was close to doing–and if you were certain of one thing only, it was that you didn’t want him to hold back, you wanted him close, as close as possible. 

“I can’t stay away from you, lady. I don’t know what spell you casted over me, but I seem to miss your closeness whenever you leave my side.” Slowly, you reached for his chin to tilt his head back towards you. Without speaking a single word, you traced his soft lips with your thumb, hoping that he began to understand that you felt the same draw towards him. 

You held eye contact while shuffling closer, perhaps you were simply offering him a way out, a way to escape should he want to stay away, but Sihtric was fully entranced by you. And without speaking another word, he closed the distance between you to press his lips against yours. 

The kiss was everything you had been dreaming of, soft enough to test the waters, to adjust to what you were now feeling, and yet it was urgent enough to tell you he wanted more. Without breaking the kiss, Sihtric pressed you down on the mattress, he hovered over you as he got comfortable between your thighs. 

His calloused fingertips stroked your skin as one hand found its way beneath the dress they had bought for you to make you blend in more. Your hands played with his hair, to tug on the strands as he found your naked cunt. The buzz that shot through you had you moaning, letting the sounds vibrate on your tongues as the kiss grew even more demanding. 

“Sihtric,” you panted his name and for a second he parted from you. Both were clearly ready to give in, to fuck like you were destined to be, and yet you couldn’t help but feel excited and somewhat nervous about giving yourself to Sihtric. A man who was born over a thousand years before you. 

You held eye contact as he rose to his feet to shuffle out of his armour, letting it carefully rest on the small wooden table. Heat shot through you at every glimpse he offered of his skin, the body you wanted to feel pressed against yours. His cock was painfully hard, begging to be buried inside you like the both of you had dreamt of for the past nights, something you were set on finally turning real.

“Come here.” You barely recognised your own voice, it was huskier, rougher than before. Sihtric found his way back to you on the mattress, and with another kiss shared between you he pulled you into a sitting position to help you out of your dress. The second he had you naked, Sihtric kissed his way to your chest, to suck on the hardening numbs while his cock brushed through your slit, collecting drops of your arousal to coat himself.

“Will you let me fuck you, lady? Let me make you scream my name so they all hear who’s fucking you.” The teasing words left you gasping for air. You could only let go of a desperate plea, needing to feel him stretching your walls as if you had been born for this moment only. 

Without another warning, Sihtric pushed into you. He moved slowly, carefully almost as if he was just as nervous, unsure what to expect. But the second he was buried inside of you, you couldn’t help but claw at his skin, begging him for more. Sihtric began to build a rough pace, letting his body meet yours with every thrust to draw the loudest moans from you, letting them reverberate through the room.

“You feel so good, oh fuck, don’t stop, Sihtric.” You paid your words no attention as they left you, you were already too far gone as he fucked you closer and closer to the edge. Never again would you be able to leave his side again, no matter what may happen, your heart had found shelter inside his, clinging to him like two halves belonging together.

“I won’t, lady, you’re mine, forever mine.” His words made your walls flutter around him, a sensation that only grew stronger as his calloused fingertips began to circle your pulsing bundle. The moans that left you two grew lower, nothing but raspy sounds that mixed together while Sihtric pressed his forehead against yours. 

The moment had something so awfully intimate to it, you feared you would never experience this again with him, as if it was a one time thing that can’t be redone. But the emotions swimming in his mismatched pupils told you that this wasn’t just for one night only, this was a bond that would hold for as long as you lived, forever chained to his side. 

“I’m so close, fuck, let me cum.” Sihtric only laughed at your words, a challenge he seemed to easily give in to. His thrusts grew more ferocious, faster than the ones that had you seeing stars. Now you were engulfed by darkness, a darkness so rich, you couldn’t help but give into the sweetest sensation.

Your orgasm clashed through you without giving you a chance to stop it, it filled every pore, every vein of your trembling body. Sihtric kept moving, he kept snapping his hips against yours until he let go with a deep moan. He imprinted himself on your walls, leaving his stain on your body and soul before slowly pulling out of you.

A playful breeze danced through the open window, its gentle caress rousing you from slumber's embrace. Sihtric's deep, even breaths formed a soothing rhythm, his chest rising and falling in a slow flow - the only sound to pierce the night's tranquil silence. And yet, a peculiar sensation lingered, as if you had heard your name whispered amidst the stillness.

Carefully, you shifted, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed to plant your feet on the cool floor. Reaching down, you retrieved your simple undergarment, carelessly discarded, and pulled it over your head. There it was again - a faint sound, so feeble that you questioned whether it was truly perceived or merely an echo reverberating from the dreamscape you had inhabited moments ago. Pictures of your former life in the hectic modern world with your friends, studies, and future plans, had danced vividly behind your closed lids.

You could not ignore the strange, insistent tugging sensation, as though your limbs moved on their own, carrying you towards the door and down the dimly lit corridor to Osferth's quarters. A soft, flickering glow seeped from beneath his door, beckoning you onward, and you carefully pushed the door as if knowing that it would yield and open.

The room was empty, Osferth likely too wasted to find it after another drinking contest with Finan. Your eyes scanned the sparse furnishings, finally landing on the table by the window where you saw it. The very same old book, the feeling of its leather cover against your fingertips still vivid in your memory, emanating an otherworldly, soft radiance, its pages turning lazily in the gentle breeze.

You hesitated for a moment before stepping closer, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you beheld the waning images dancing across the illuminated pages - scenes of you savouring ice cream in your favourite coffee shop, dancing with friends in the disco you adored for its fortnightly DJ sets, hurrying through the sterile corridors of a hospital in your pristine white coat, stethoscope slung around your neck, your dream profession as a doctor finally within grasp after years of arduous study.

The whispered beckoning of the pages caressed your ears. This was it – your chance to return home, to leave this harsh, unforgiving world behind. You stretched out your hand, trembling slightly, fully aware of what would happen the moment your fingertips grazed those magical leaves.

The warmth of Sihtric's body enveloped you as he stirred from slumber, his muscular arms instinctively wrapping around your form and pulling you closer. A contented sigh escaped your lips as a gentle sense of happiness bloomed within your chest.

"You're chilled," he murmured huskily, his breath a delicious caress against the sensitive skin of your neck. With tender care, he adjusted the thick woollen blanket, meticulously tucking it snugly around your shivering frame.

“I can’t believe it took until I travelled back in time for me to feel like this.” Your whispers filled the room–words that piqued Sihtric’s attention as he pulled you against his chest. 

“What do you mean?” A kiss was pressed to your forehead, a gesture so sweet, you couldn’t help but smile up at him.

“I feel more loved and appreciated than ever before.” And with a slow kiss shared between your swollen lips, you knew that this had always been your destiny. You had been made for this man, as much as he had been crafted for you. Destiny is all.

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[lulublack90]

Prompt 27 - Skating

@wolfstarmicrofic December 27, word count 729

The second part of yesterday's Prompt - Champagne. Might see where this one goes.

First part

The bar Sirius took him to was extravagant. Remus was not overdressed in his white shirt and dress pants. Waitresses in sparkly dresses wandered about with trays of what Remus guessed was scotch that cost more than he’d made that night per glass. He felt instantly uncomfortable and didn’t know how to tell Sirius he would rather go somewhere else. Instead, he allowed Sirius to lead him to a badly lit booth on the far side of the bar. 

No sooner had they sat down than one of the servers appeared with a large, toothy smile, spreading her bright red lips apart. 

“Mr Black, how are you this evening? Can I get you your usual, and what would your date like?” She blinked her shimmery eyelids at Sirius and waited for his order. 

Sirius’s jaw tensed for a second before a slightly forced smile appeared on his face. 

“Good thanks, Crystal. Yes, usual for me and Remus, what would you like?” They both turned their attention to Remus.

“Oh, erm, just a water, thanks.” He tried not to stammer, but it was hard. He felt embarrassed by them watching him so intently. 

“Are you sure?” Sirius asked him, insecurity flashing across his face. “I’m buying; you can get whatever you want.” Remus swallowed. People always found it strange when they found out he didn’t drink, but if that was a deal-breaker for them, then Remus didn’t want to associate with them anyway. 

“Waters, fine, thank you. I don’t drink,” He added, wanting Sirius to understand it wasn’t because he wanted to make a hasty retreat or something. Sirius's face broke into a genuinely heartbreaking smile. 

“Scratch my order, Crystal. Two waters please,” Crystal’s eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything as she turned to get their drinks. 

“You can drink, I don’t mind, honestly,” Remus said quickly. Sirius reached over the table and took Remus’s hands in his. 

“I’m good. Just enjoying watching you squirm as if I care what you drink,” Mischief danced in his eyes and Remus felt a familiar pressure in his boxers. He swallowed dryly. Where the fuck was Crystal with their waters?

As if by magic she appeared, depositing the tall glasses on the table.

“Can I get you anything else?” Remus grabbed the glass and took a long slurp of water while Sirius was distracted by Crystal. 

“No, thank you, Crystal.” He said kindly. 

“Well you need anything, just flag me down,” She smiled warmly and wandered away to another booth in her section. 

“Wow, that’s a lot of ice,” Sirius said, scrutinising his glass. Turning it this way and that so, the cubes of ice clinked against the glass. “I haven’t seen this much ice since the last time I went skating,” He laughed at his own words, and Remus joined in politely. He had no idea what Sirius was on about. He took another sip of his own drink, trying to rid his throat of its dryness.  

“So, Remus, tell me about yourself,” Sirius waited for Remus to answer, giving him time that most people didn’t. Sometimes, he needed a second to collect his thoughts and decide what he would and wouldn’t tell a complete stranger.

“There’s not much to tell. I live in a shit flat above a shit kebab shop. I work a shit job that pays me just enough to keep my shit flat and feed me shit kebabs from downstairs. Oh, and I’m studying English Lit at the university,” Sirius didn’t comment on his tirade about his less-than-great life at the moment. He smiled his crooked smile at Remus, leaned in and said in a sultry tone.

“I could really go for a shit kebab right now,” He bit his bottom lip and Remus had to surreptitiously reposition himself under the table. 

“We could go get one, my treat,” He offered, his voice only a little hoarse. Sirius took out his wallet and dropped a twenty on the table. Twenty quid for two glasses of water, that was insane. Sirius must have seen the look on Remus’s face. “I tip well,” He shrugged. 

Impulsively, Remus offered him his arm, like Sirius had done earlier, and the sweet smile he got in return made his insides squirm. He led Sirius out of the bar and turned towards home, praying it his flat wasn’t too much of a mess. 

Next part

[lunarnightt]

Not Hot To Go ― Chappell Roan

summary: You hate the song Hot To Go and what's worse? The singer who sang it was your girlfriend. But what happens when she walks into your shared apartment and sees you dancing to it in your living room?

cw: fem!reader, wlw relationship, fluff, this one is for the gays and the gays ONLY

req: this was requested by @hiro--aoki! I hope you enjoy my child!

Word count: 687

You and Chappell had always had a bit of a musical divide, which was pretty obvious given her career as a musical artist. You couldn’t stand her hit song "Hot To Go," and she totally respected that. It wasn’t the end of the world.

The song was catchy, sure, but it was also relentlessly overplayed—constantly blasting on the radio, all over your TikTok FYP, with people doing cringe-worthy renditions and declaring how it was their favorite song. You could almost feel your stomach churn every time it came on. But it wasn’t like you didn’t appreciate her talents. You loved hearing her sing, her voice was like a beautiful melody that had a calming effect on you. Sitting in the studio with her, listening to her belt out her latest tracks, was always therapeutic.

What neither of you could understand was why you had such a strong aversion to "Hot To Go"—and why it never seemed to get any better in your ears, despite your best efforts. But after months of hearing it in the background, you thought, Maybe I should give it another chance.

One day, Chappell was busy at the studio, so you had the apartment to yourself. You figured it was a good time to clean up a little, but as you started tidying, you decided to put on some music. What started as a heavy metal playlist quickly turned into something else entirely. Without even realizing it, the familiar opening beat of her song came on. You couldn’t help it. You pressed repeat, letting it play as you cleaned. Soon enough, you were doing the "Hot To Go" dance, moving around the apartment, singing along to the lyrics. It felt… kinda fun.

What you didn’t realize was that the front door had opened. Chappell walked in just as you were mid-dance, and you froze when you heard her voice.

"Babe?! I'm home bitc—Oh." She stopped in the doorway, her voice trailing off as her eyes landed on you mid-dance. You slowly turned, your eyes going wide as you let out a nervous cough. The song was still playing in the background, the lyrics now painfully loud.

"Uh... Hi?" you said sheepishly, cheeks turning a soft shade of red. Chappell stood there with her arms crossed, raising an eyebrow. You could tell she was holding back a grin.

"Did I just see you dancing to my song?" she asked, her voice filled with amusement. You choked a little, your throat going dry.

"What?! Psh, no," you tried to lie, but she tilted her head, giving you a look that said she wasn’t buying it.

"Okay, fine. Maybe I was," you admitted, feeling a weight lift off your chest now that it was out in the open.

You walked over to her, a small smile tugging at your lips as you reached out and took her hands in yours. "The song kinda grew on me... and I didn’t want you to tell me 'I told you so' when I finally admitted it," you confessed, making her laugh softly.

"Babe... I hate to say it, but I told you so," she teased, singing the words like a victory anthem. You rolled your eyes playfully.

"Yeah, whatever," you muttered, but before you could say anything more, she pulled you in for a kiss. Your lips met, soft and gentle at first, then deepening as you both gave in to the moment.

When you finally pulled apart, you couldn’t help but blush. Even after almost two years together, your cheeks still went red every time you kissed her. It was something she’d never let you live down, always bragging about how you were still so easily flustered.

"You wanna order some food?" she asked, looking at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Your face immediately lit up, because, honestly, you could never turn down food—especially not when it was with her.

"Hell yeah, let’s get Burger King," you said, grinning as you walked into the living room, Chappell following behind. "Hot To Go" continued to play softly in the background, but this time, you didn’t mind.

A/N: Hello my babies! This is my first writing Lesbians and this is for the gays only! Anyway, I hope you like this hiro! and for everyone else, don't feel afraid to reply, reblog, or like it! and if you want to request a Chappell fic or someone else, feel free to do so! As always, love you all! ― Moony or luni

[sickeninglyshoujo]

God you’re gonna hate me for this thought but after reading dad!simon all I kept thinking was

What if the daughter did die? Like id imagine reader being fuckin PISSED and kinda being closed off with Simon cus she didn’t want her daughter being in the army and Simon wasn’t hearing her concerns

oh

oh i do hate you

but i had to write it

teared up twice writing it and said i cant cry tonight about this

part 1 - dad!simon

word count: 750

warnings: death, grief

buy me a ko-fi

They brought your daughter home in a plain pine box.

They wouldn’t let you see her no matter how you wept and tore at the lid that had been nailed tightly shut.

“Just let me see my baby, I need to make sure it’s her…Let me see her just once please…” You cried to her C.O. The man gave a pained look above your shoulder at your husband, ever your shadow, who took his silent plea and wrapped his hands around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest.

He didn’t know you could scream like that.

The days immediately after the funeral are the worst. You sit in the kitchen chair where you woodenly placed yourself after returning from the graveyard. Your eyes stare into the air in the space in front of you, unfocused and unseeing.

The kitchen hurts the most.

This was where you had so many family dinners, first with your messy baby in her high chair, a headstrong toddler demanding her own utensils, a gap-toothed child rolling her eyes at her parent’s sneaking kisses over lasagna, a moody pre-teen who insisted that she be allowed to go to base with Simon, a teenager too pretty for her own good asking her father about his time spent in the field.

You knew it was a matter of time. She took after her father more than you. When you argued with her, it was like staring into your husband’s face. Quiet determination and a total lack of regard for anything except their motives.

At 18, she enlisted. She laughed at your worried frown as her father clapped her on the back and shook her hand, “Welcome, Recruit.”

Her training with the SAS was supplemented by her father, making her truly a force to be reckoned with when put against her fellow recruits. She began bragging to you on her phone calls home, telling you all about how she planted the men flat on their asses in sparring!

Then she was no longer a recruit, but a fully enlisted member being sent onto missions with real gunfire and real danger.

You had never been one quick to prayer, even when Simon was in the service but that changed when your daughter started getting sent all over the globe in order to serve her country, until she makes one final journey home.

Simon stops eating at the table. He can’t bear to watch you sit there, eyes staring into nothing. Any words his mouth could form wouldn’t fix this. How he groomed your daughter for military duty from the cradle. Which of those trips to base was the one that had lit the spark that destined her for service? Was it one too many war stories told to her in the cradle when he was explaining where he had been? Why he hadn’t heard her first words, but that he was here now and ready to hear her talk his ear off.

You start to slowly leave the kitchen table: Perching yourself on the sofa in the living room, watching the corner she usually sat in.

Simon stops sitting in his recliner, opting instead for his office. He can’t watch you stare at the empty seat even if he had been doing the same.

It comes to a head nearly a month after her burial.

“Why can’t you look at me Simon!”

His head whips around, you hadn’t spoken much for weeks and now you were yelling at him, just this side of hysteria.

“I lost my daughter and now my husband can’t even look at me! I’m hurting Simon! I never wanted her to enlist, but you had to play war hero! You always had to be her hero and now she’s gone Si! She’s gone and I’m losing you at the same time!” Your tears are overflowing now, you’re swiping at your eyes and trying to not let them travel down your cheeks in a losing battle.

Simon’s mouth is agape, “Dove, I-”

“Don’t ‘Dove’ me! You haven’t talked to me Simon! You haven’t held me! You haven’t tried to tell me it’ll be ok and that we’ll get through this! We haven’t even slept in the same fucking bed together Simon!”

He had hoped you wouldn’t notice how he had opted for the uncomfortable loveseat hidden in his office. He had hoped you were too lost in your thoughts and grief to notice.

“Simon I can’t do this with you if you won’t help me. I need a break. I’m living with two ghosts now.”

[deiaiko]

#22.2 Tags

Endorsi tapped her shoe impatiently. "And the prize is?"

"You can exchange it for some points, or use these tags to get private time with a person of your choice." Mask winked at no one in particular. "I know some of you are friends with Bam and Grace. And given that you haven't seen them for years, perhaps you might have something that needs to be said privately. There will be a buffet held after the game, and everyone can talk and socialize freely then. But let me tell you this; the chance of you having a private face to face conversation with them after today will be very low. So be sure to use this opportunity well."

Endorsi suddenly remembered the date that Bam owed her. Maybe this could be her chance? Having Bam for herself sounded fair enough to be considered a date. She wondered how much Bam had changed, and she was curious if she still held the same feelings towards him. Guess she would find out soon.

"Note that they're only valid until today. The white tags are worth three minutes each, while the black ones are worth ten minutes."

Endorsi wanted to throw hands. "The heck?! That's too short!" She quickly decided that the private date time wasn't worth it.

"Not interested." Anaak stated plainly, having the same thought. 

"Oh, that's not all." Mask called out his nearby lighthouse and the screen lit up. "I did say that these tags could also be exchanged for some points."

The amounts displayed on Mask's lighthouse made Endorsi's eyes bulge. Sure, it was still comparable to her monthly earnings, but one day of photoshoots wasn't even worth that much. This guy must be filthy rich in order to be able to give out much. "However, there will only be four black stickers in total."

She hadn't even started to do the math when Shibisu raised his hand. "Why four? There are six people on your team."

"Good question." Mask motioned to himself and the other three guys that she didn't bother to remember the names of. "Only us four will participate in the tag game. Grace and Bam don't have tickets because they have a different role."

Endorsi raised an eyebrow, not that she actually cared.

"Remember that those that don't have the tag during the game will be unable to move? Grace and Bam are in charge of it. They will also make sure that this game will not cause any major casualties to the players."

Endorsi suddenly remembered that Bam could use reverse flow control. Grace however…she didn't know much about him. She realized that Grace was surprisingly tight-lipped about his past, for someone who was bad at lying. Thinking back about it, he was absent during the crown game, and he hadn't shown anything noteworthy during the hide and seek game. Bam often bragged about how Grace helped him in class, though, so maybe he was that capable? It wasn't so hard to believe; Grace always looked so self-assured and dependable.

However, there was something different about how he treated her compared to the others, like how he quickly looked away when she caught his gaze, or how he was slightly nervous when talking to her. But she always reasoned that it was only natural that men would fall for her beauty and status, since she was a Jahad princess and all. When she took into account that Grace was already taken, it made even more sense on why he was so awkward and conflicted when interacting with her. She had to admit it was really fun to tease him back then, though she never called him out on it.

"Are there any other questions?" Mask asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

Khun and Isu asked for some clarifications on the rules, but Endorsi tuned them out, too busy indulging in the thought of the prize points. One black and one white tag should be enough to buy the designer dress she saw the other day. And since Laure most likely wasn’t interested in anything other than sleep, could she ask him to give her his tag so she could use it with Grace? It would be really fun to take Grace away from Mask and make him jealous. Speaking of Mask…

"Five minutes–" Endorsi caught his words– "to discuss amongst yourselves before I start the game."

One of the floating blue lighthouses started a five-minute countdown, and Khun called everyone to gather. However, Endorsi decided to spare a glance to where Mask went.

She saw Mask greeted his team who had started doing warm up moves, while some were not so subtly glancing in her direction. Mask then started typing on his lighthouse, and she saw the training room slowly turned into a fighting stage with just a few commands of his hands. The barrier that covered the room pulsed as if being strengthened, moving platforms and obstacles were created out of thin air–

Khun cleared his throat, and Endorsi noticed she wasn't the only one that was watching the room transformation unfold. "Okay. Listen up everyone."

Masterlist

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[m1dnyt3-w0lf]

Chapter 5: In A Month's Time

2,638

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4

After the near mugging, I followed Miguel's rule to be accompanied by someone when I went out. Either by him or by Jess. It was usually Jess since she was taking me to different stores to apply to. I hadn't heard back from anyone after three days of applying. I was a bit bummed out, but it was expected that I would not get a job immediately. I still had the rest of the month to get a job, though. No sweat.

“Maybe you're not looking in the right places.” Jess offered after a bite of french fry. “Maybe try an office job.”

“I like being on my feet, and this may be the only social interaction I'll be getting. The last thing I want is to be sitting for hours staring at a computer screen when I'm already going to be doing that for my classes.” I told her.

“Fair point.” She agreed. She didn't let me pay for the meal.

I haven't spent a single dime since I've been here. Neither her nor Miguel would allow me to pay for anything. I was sure it was some kind of motherly thing for Jess. Miguel, however, I had no clue why he wouldn't let me pay for anything. He insisted he'd buy whenever we ate out, which was basically every dinner we shared. I had enough after the fourth day he paid.

“Miguel, I have money. Let me pay for it this time!” I crossed my arms.

“Save your money for school. That's more important.” He simply said as he handed the waiter the booklet that held the bill and his card. I huffed at that.

“That's why I’m getting a job. So I could pay for both necessities and fun stuff like this! And rent!” But he wasn't having any of my reasons, so he continued to pay for everything. It was mildly infuriating.

It wasn’t the only infuriating thing Miguel did. He seemed adamant that we shared at least one meal together. If it wasn’t breakfast, it’d be dinner. Never lunch since I was out job hunting, and he was…working. I think.

“What do you do at work?” I asked him over breakfast.

“Well,” he started slowly. “I engineer stuff.”

“What do you engineer?” I felt the space grow awkward.

“Biological stuff.” I frowned at his answer. He was being so vague, like he was hiding something.

“What kind of biological stuff?”

“Ah, that I can’t tell you. Top secret research, company contracts, that whole ordeal.” He sounded more confident than before. I pouted a bit at his answer.

“Aw, come on, not even a tiny bit?”

“Wish I could.” His weird watch lit up at that moment. He was quick to look at it, a deep scowl appearing on his face as he glared at his screen. “I have to get going. I’ll have Jess pick you up some dinner before dropping you off.” Then he was gone.

Many of my interactions were like this with Miguel. Conversations cut short, meals rushed, even being caught at midnight trying to eat shredded cheese just because he came home right then. I had no idea what being a bioengineer was like, but this didn’t seem right. He disappeared often outside his work hours. Honestly, it worried me to see him so overworked. I worried that paying for me forced him to need to make extra money. It made me more determined to find a job.

By the time the second week started, I had no calls, no acceptances, nothing. I was starting to get worried. I know things like this took time, but I was never good at being patient. I started finding myself pacing my room and willing an email or call to ring my phone. Obviously, that never happened.

A distraction had come in the form of a man. He was a little over average height with a long face, brown hair, and a bright pink robe. He had a child with him, a little girl with unruly, red hair and big blue eyes. The man had barged in and made himself at home.

“Is Miguel home?” He had asked. How many parents did Miguel know?

“Uh, no, he left for work about an hour ago. I’m sorry, who are you?” I asked. The man had his full attention on the child, so I wasn't sure if he had heard me. Right when I was about to repeat my question, he spoke.

“Aw, bummer! He always likes seeing Mayday, isn't that right?” He made kissy faces to her and made her giggle. “I’m Peter, by the way!”

“Okay…where’s Jess?” I asked him. He already established he knew Miguel, so he was good company.

“Jess is at a…baby appointment. Yeah, that's the thing.”

“Right.” I give a slow nod. Well, whenever you're ready, we can—”

“Oh, you wanna see some pictures of Mayday?!” Peter exclaimed, interrupting me.

“Well—”

“Ah, of course you do! Everyone does!” He interrupted again. Safe to say, I did not get to submit any applications that day.

He was very lively for a man who seemed to be in his late twenties, early thirties. He hovered over Mayday a lot and seemed so extremely aware of her all the time, even when he wasn’t looking at her. He moved with cat-like reflexes. No, he moved much faster. He was practically a blur. He moved almost as fast as his mouth did. He didn’t shut up the entire time he was over. Everything out of his mouth was either about Mayday or a joke. I wasn’t sure which I preferred to hear from him. He rambled so much that he was still talking my ear off when Miguel came home. He looked at my bored-out-of-my-mind expression and immediately kicked Peter out of the apartment, which still took another hour since Peter insisted Miguel should look at pictures of Mayday. Miguel had apologized with dinner, a fancier place than usual. For once, I didn’t complain. It wasn’t my only win of the night. I did, at least, convince Peter not to let me hold Mayday.

Around mid-week, my things started showing up in the mail. Three boxes had been delivered, none containing my clothes. I was a bit worried as the weather had started to cool sooner than I expected it to. With Jess's bike being my only form of transportation, I had to ask Miguel for a jacket.

“You don't have one?” He asked me past a bite of chow-mein.

“I have one, but it's too thin. I'd be a shivering puppy on Jess’s bike.” I told him. “I have jackets on the way, so I don't wanna buy another one. If I could just borrow one of yours, I'd be super grateful.”

Miguel had studied me for a few moments. I put on my best puppy dog eyes that would even convince my mother. He let out a defeated sigh.

“Fine, I'll see what I have.”

What he had was a dad sweater. The ones that zipped up to your chin and were nothing but fuzzy cloth. It kept me warm alright, but it also swallowed me. The dang thing went down to my thighs, and the sleeves were about two inches past my hands. I had to start wearing my belt over the jacket just to keep it in place. I had to roll the sleeves up at least three times just to have my hands peek through the holes. I had never felt smaller than I did when wearing his jacket. Jess tried, and failed, to hold back her laugh when she saw me. But it was all I had to work with until my box of clothes arrived. I checked with the front desk every single day for that box but came up empty every single time. No matter, I was sure the box would turn up eventually.

The third week finally rolled around, and I had nothing ready. I had no job, no furniture, and no clothes. The post office somehow lost my box of clothes. That was another two weeks' worth of clothes! I made calls and emails but came up empty. I didn't dare bring it up to Jess or Miguel. I didn't want them to worry about me. I could fix this. I just needed to buy more clothes…at some point. For now, I was stuck with my measly one week's worth and Miguel's jacket. I was glad I only packed pants.

Troubles aside, my first rent payment was due soon. I had money to cover it with no problem, but it didn’t stop me from worrying about next month’s rent or my school supplies now that I needed to buy new clothes. My funds would be taking a harsh hit if the prices I’ve seen so far were anything to go by. It worried me. A lot of things worried me. My worries began to build up in me and turn into anxiety. I wasn't getting sleep. I stayed up late and, in turn, got up late. I found myself bouncing my leg more often than not. I was getting distracted and lost in my thoughts during conversations. Jess had basically given up holding a conversation. Miguel, however, kept trying. He even went as far as—

SNAP, SNAP, SNAP

“Wha-?” I blinked back into the present and focused on Miguel’s snapping fingers.

“Are you listening?” He looked annoyed.

“Of course!” I lied stupidly. He didn't look convinced.

“What did I just say?”

“Okay, fine, I wasn't listening.” I huffed, giving in immediately. “What did you say?”

His eyes studied me for a few moments. The silence stretched a bit longer than what was comfortable. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak.

“Are you okay?” He asked with a strangely concerned tone. I was actually surprised.

“What? Of course I am. Why?”

“You're constantly spaced out, your shoulders are tense, you’re constantly bouncing that damn leg, and I’m sure your eyebrows need a divorce with how long they’ve been drawn together.” He stated. I was shocked with how attentive he was to my current behavior. I couldn’t tell if he was upset or genuinely concerned about it. He sounded like a cross between the two. “You’re anything but okay. What’s going on? Is someone bothering you?”

“No one’s bothering me! I don’t even know anyone here.” I said quickly. The last thing I needed was this giant of a man becoming my guard dog. A hot guard dog, but still the last thing I needed.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing.”

“It has to be something.”

“No it doesn’t!”

“‘Nothing’ doesn’t force people into your state. It’s something.” It wasn’t even a question. It was a statement.

“I can figure it out. Don’t worry about it!” I argued.

“All you’re doing is worrying about it! You’ll worry yourself sick, let me help you!”

“I can do this on my own!”

“You obviously can’t if you’re this stressed about it!”

“I’m an adult, Miguel, of course I can!”

“That doesn’t mean anything!” Our voices had risen by now, our argument getting heated. Miguel’s hands had balled into fists, my own had started waving around animatedly.

“It means everything!” I shouted, slamming my fists on the table. The bang echoed louder than my voice in the small kitchen and silenced us both.The sting of the impact tingled the entire bottom of my fist. I glared at Miguel as if my stare could melt his skin off. His glare, on the other hand, disappeared. Something kin to realization crossed his face. His eyebrows had a different crease in them. He looked softer.

The silence stretched between us. It cloaked us and choked the air out of our surrounding space. In the silence, I calmed. The sting became a bit sharper. My heavy breathing now stuttered. My lip wobbled. The first tear fell from my right eye. Then another from my left. A sob barely left my lips when Miguel’s chair scraped the floor, and his arms were around me, pulling me into a hug. There was no room to push him away or to feel embarrassed. I don’t think I could’ve if I tried with how tightly he held me. I cried, no, wailed, into his chest and clung onto his shirt for dear life.

It was almost comical how, despite the obvious anguish I was exuding, I couldn’t help my wandering mind. I could feel every muscle of his body pressed against mine. Rock hard compared to my soft plush. He was also warm. His hold was comforting and enveloped me entirely. He was so gentle. I felt like a kitten in his arms. Something precious. It was an intoxicating feeling I wasn’t sure I was ready to indulge in. But, for now, it felt right. I found myself relaxing into his hold and calming down until I was only sniffling. I felt sticky and gross, yet Miguel continued to hold me.

Then, I heard it.

“Todo está bien.” I heard him mutter. My brain halted. Was he speaking to me? It was so quiet that I had completely missed it.

“Te tengo, chiquita.” He continued, rubbing his hand on my back.

Chiquita. It sounded so good coming from him. I listened to his reassuring words and let out a slow breath. I closed my eyes and leaned more into his chest. I heard his heart thump against my ear.

Thump-thump, th-thump-thump, thump-thump

“I’m sorry.” I mumbled.

Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He rumbled. The bass in his voice rumbled through his chest and into my body.

“I yelled at you. I’m sorry about that.” I said. “I’m…I’m in a bit of trouble.

Th-thump-thump, thump-thump, th-thump-thump

His hand found its way under my chin and lifted it so I could look at him. I was already missing the security of his chest.

“What trouble?” He asked with knit eyebrows. He’s only known me for a month, and he looked absolutely wrecked with worry. It made my heart flutter to see someone who wasn’t family care so much about me.

“Well,” I started with a huff of breath. “For starters, the post office lost my clothes.”

“We can get you more tomorrow.” He said immediately. I was a bit taken aback by his quick response but continued.

“I don’t have furniture.”

“I’ll get some for you. I didn’t mean to leave the room so empty, honestly, but I wanted you to decorate your room however you wanted.”

“I have to worry about rent.”

“Worry about school, let me worry about the rent.” He said with a caress of his thumb. I didn’t like the idea of him buying my furniture and paying both halves of the rent. That was so much money.

“I don’t have enough money for school supplies.”

“I can help out.” He replied. Now he was offering to help with my school supplies? How much was I going to owe him?

“I don’t have a job.”

Miguel’s eyes looked into mine, silent after my final words. He looked calculated. There was a funny crinkle in the corner of his eyes. His eyebrows finally eased, and instead, one of them raised. He tilted his head a bit as if to size me up. His gears were turning, and I wasn’t sure I was going to enjoy what he was going to say next.

“I have an offer.” He said. Dangerous words.

“What kind of offer?” I asked slowly, finally pulling away from his arms. I no longer felt safe in them if this talk was going down the road I thought it was going down. He let me move but held onto my arms, rubbing his thumbs lightly against them. He dropped the bombshell.

“Let me pay for everything.”

Translations

Ch 6

Tags: @crocs-blogs @madschiavelique @arithestrawberry @eveandtheturtles @obi-mom-kenobi @thelaundrybitch @symmetricalkazekage @raphsmuneca @tojishugetiddies @kazunewolfwood-blog

[babiebom]

When You Fall (ix)

A/N:oopsies work got ahold of me and I haven’t written anything for this in like a couple of months. I do wanna update more regularly, and I do wanna make a career out of writing(and streaming) at some point but I work every day except for weekends where I work another job and I am exhausted. Hopefully I get out of my writers block soon also I named the chicks names I gave mine in game lmao

Tw: depression, cursing, anxiety, smoking the usual for this fic so far

Wc:1.9k

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Unlike for the last two weeks, you awoke to silence. There’s nothing going on outside or inside your house, and that can only mean one thing. As soon as you sit up in your bed to stretch, a loud knock on your front door echoes throughout your tiny home and causes you to shake out of your post sleep haze and move towards the front door.

Shadow barked loudly, running around your legs as you head towards the door. She’s very excitable and having her for almost a month now, you were grateful for it. Her and Mango had kept your mind off of everything and now since you have a chicken coop you’d have even more to keep you busy. Opening the door, you have to steel yourself in order not to choke on your spit, this being the most unexpected visitor you’ve ever had. Sebastian stands in front of you, sleeves rolled up with a lit cigarette in his hand. He looks just as surprised as you, as if he wasn’t expecting you to actually answer the door.

Sebastian clears his throat as you hurriedly try to adjust yourself. Marnie had seen you right after you had woken up before; and so had Robin, who you were expecting instead of her son. “Uh…good morning?”

“Good morning.” You reply, staring at him. He didn’t look the slightest bit happy to be standing there and honestly being greeted first thing in the morning wasn’t something that you loved (though in this town you have to get used to it) so this entire experience was horrific. For a couple of awkward seconds the both of you are silent, only being forced out of it after Shadow pushes past you to be let free onto the farm.

“Sorry about that.” You frown as the both of you stumble a bit. Sebastian’s eyes wander over to Shadow who had begun rolling on the growing grass.

“No, it’s fine.”

“So what were you here for?”

“Right! Um… my mom sent me to tell you that your coop is ready and that it’s only big enough for a couple of chickens, but you can upgrade it to house bigger animals…and uh,” he pauses for a second nose scrunching as he tries to remember whatever the message was. It was kinda cute, in a totally normal way of course, “and that if you want any upgrades on your house like a kitchen or an indoor bathroom that she would be happy to do it. For a few, obviously.” He breathes out harshly the second he finishes his small speech, letting his shoulders drop.

“Tell her I said thanks,” you smile. But it’s not a good smile, it’s one of those where your lips go inwards? Again this is a very awkward situation. He begins to walk away and you realize that while you like Marnie, talking to her was a bit too much as she often went in about things when you were in a hurry. And quite frankly being alone on the farm all day was getting a bit difficult for you. The medicine helped keep things right below the surface, but they also made being alone that much worse. Before you could at least break down about your feelings, now all you can do is think and think and think until you spiral for so long that you almost forget to feed your animals.

“Um, I’m so sorry to ask this but could you come to Marnie’s with me? I wanna buy a chick or two from her but I’d need help bringing them back here?”

He just stared for a second before nodding once. You begin to step outside before remembering that you’re still in your pajamas. The only way to describe how you reacted is to say your entire body stutters, stopping you in your tracks to leave as soon as you remember that you need to be dressed. You stammer out an apology before somewhat slamming the door in his face. Your cabin isn’t big at all, no rooms, no bathroom, just your bed and your pet bed and a television. It should’ve been easy to ask him to stay outside while you changed, but it was difficult seeing as your brain was lagging from seeing him first thing in the morning, your routine being disrupted, and the fact that you’ve just opened your eyes not even five minutes before having this conversation.

As soon as you open the door it’s almost comical how similar it is to when you had opened the door to find him originally. Sebastian visibly jolts, mid puff with his relit cigarette you apologize again before you both make your way down to Marnie’s.

The walk there is basically silent. He doesn’t speak unless you say something first, and you don’t really want to say anything but the little anxiety monster in your head doesn’t let you stay silent for more than five minutes. “So…what do you do for work?”

You avoid looking at him as you ask because it’s sort of awkward, and almost regret asking but as he lets out a huge smoke cloud he answers you. “Just some freelance programming work…”

It almost surprises you, but then realistically what sort of career could you have in this town? “Do you like it?”

He shrugs, “it’s okay. I prefer it over working for some company. Working freelance means that I’m not competing in some corporate rat race like everyone else.”

You nod in understanding. Working for Joja was one of the worst work experiences you’ve had, even worse than being yelled at in retail. So him not really wanting to participate in that sort of environment sounded like it was good for his mental health. Maybe if you had the same beliefs you would’ve been able to handle everything better, or at least you would've been in a better place mentally to handle everything.

Getting to Marnie’s, you’re somewhat in a better mood than you’ve been in for a while. It was kind of comfortable walking with him and not feeling judged or pitied. As soon as you walk into Marnie’s place, her eyes are wide with surprise as she sees Sebastian walk in behind you. For a moment you want to ask him to step outside or something, because as much as you like Marnie, she does like to gossip. But it’s whatever at this point, and asking him to step out is rude to him and would make things worse for her. “Hi Marnie! Robin finished my coop recently so I wanted to come in and buy some chicks! Do you have any available?”

“Yeah…you can follow me out back and choose how many you want.”

The chicks were literally the cutest, fluffiest little things you’ve ever seen. Their bright yellow feathers almost immediately bring joy to you, their tiny peeps and hops make you want to take all of them and go home. But your coop only houses four and you don’t want to cram all four into the coop immediately because that seemed horrible.

You end up picking up one that was hovering around you instead of running around with the others. “Oh hello…!”

“Do you care which one I pick or…?”

You shrug, allowing yourself to feel the happiness and warmth that you know is fleeting. “All of them are cute. You can pick one!”

Marnie makes a face and you just ignore her in favor of snuggling the tiny chick closer. Sebastian takes a second, and to your surprise looks like he’s taking it seriously. He picks the tiniest one of the bunch that looks a little rough but is still so cute. “You wanna have them names? So I can have them registered?” Marnie asks.

“You register all of the animals?” You ask. It seems like it would be the natural thing to do. Having no vet in the area and almost all of the animals being owned by Marnie at some point except for your stray cat and dog that she has said she has no idea where they came from.

“Yup, Lew- Mayor Lewis wants all of the animals registered. He likes everything to be documented.” Her cheeks turn pink at the mention of the Mayor, but you just keep that files away in your mind. You weren’t really the petty revenge type of person, but you needed ammunition just in case.

“Well,” you start, having thought about names on the way here, “this one I’m holding can be Chica and that one that Sebastian is holding is Chickadee.”

Marnie’s eyes light up at the names. “That’s so cute! I’ll get them registered right away! I’ll make the trip to see the Mayor myself.”

“I can register them? So you don’t have to!”

“No no!” Her eyes widened. “I can register them, it’s no trouble at all. I manage all of the other animals' documents anyway. It will be easy.”

You agree and leave Marnie’s place, Sebastian falling into step beside you. After you get a few meters away he begins laughing, holding Chickadee to his chest so she doesn’t fall while he cracks up.

You smile at the noise, it was nice to hear him laugh seeing as things between you have been mostly quiet. “What’s funny?” You ask softly, wanting to know what he knew that you didn’t.

“She thinks that her little relationship with Lewis is some big secret!”

“She’s actually in a relationship with him? I thought it was just a crush.”

“If you could call it a relationship. He sneaks over to her place in the middle of the night, she sneaks to his sometimes, that’s about it. Jas has told Penny about it, and since she and Sam are friends she told him. But even if Jas didn’t say anything, everyone would know anyways. She always looks so in love when they’re in the same room.”

“Has it been going on for long?”

“Maybe for a couple months or a year or so. I’m not sure about that, all I know is that they hook up sometimes and both are bad at acting as if nothing is happening.”

After having Chickadee and Chica for a week they’ve already grown so much that you have to adjust quickly to the change. Getting animals meant that you had things to take care of and love and also they kept you distracted for long periods of time because you chose (well you and Sebastian chose) the two neediest chickens you thought ever existed. They constantly wanted cuddles and kisses and attention as well as Mango and Shadow wanting the same thing. Your animals combined with the daily chores of taking care of your plants and you never ending task of clearing the farm from debris meant that the only time you had to wallow in self pity was when you were getting ready to sleep at night. And even then it wasn’t that long because after working outside all day you were always exhausted. Luckily having your time taken up by all of these things were more helpful to your mental health than harmful. More time dedicated to making sure your little farm was taken care of meant that less time was dedicated to feeling bad and contemplating ending it all.

Life was turning out okay…

Okay as long as you had some sort of distraction.

[yoomiwrites]

Stray ²

Summary: A two-shot about Ichiji and female Reader. About him, how he is fascinated by a lower stray without understanding it. His point of view. No warnings, but possessive behavior. From the year 2022.

Note: I just wanted to break Sugar Rush with some other old work, so yeah, we're getting there. Part 1

The dining hall was dimly lit, the heavy atmosphere typical of the Vinsmoke family’s meals. Ichiji sat at the long table, silent as always, his sharp eyes scanning over the reports in front of him. Niji leaned back in his chair with a smirk, casually throwing a glance at Ichiji.

"You know, brother," Niji began, a sly grin spreading across his face, "I heard something interesting recently."

Ichiji didn’t look up. He didn’t care what Niji had to say, especially when it came with that tone. Niji always spoke like he was holding a secret, something he could use to poke at the others. Annoying.

"About you, actually," Niji continued, enjoying the sound of his own voice. "Something about a stray you’ve been seeing in the kingdom? Some lowlife girl?"

Ichiji’s eyes flicked up for just a moment, but his expression remained calm. Unbothered. Niji was fishing, as usual. He didn’t have time for his brother’s games.

"Don’t know what you're talking about," Ichiji replied flatly, going back to the reports.

But Niji wasn’t about to drop it. He chuckled, leaning forward on the table. "Come on, you really think I wouldn’t notice? You’ve been slipping away more often than usual. We’re supposed to be allies with this kingdom, and you’re out spending time with some piece of street trash? I didn’t think you cared for the company of people like that."

Ichiji’s jaw tightened ever so slightly. He didn’t care about her. She was just...something to pass the time. Someone who had managed to catch his attention for reasons he didn’t fully understand. But Niji was twisting it, trying to get a reaction.

"She’s nothing," Ichiji said coldly. "A nuisance. I’m just making sure she doesn’t cause any problems."

Niji laughed, clearly not buying it. "Sure. 'Nothing.' You know, I saw her the other day." He leaned in, his voice dropping, dripping with mockery. "She’s got a pretty face for a stray. I wouldn’t mind having some fun with her. Break her in a bit, you know?"

Ichiji’s hand froze, his fingers gripping the edge of the table.

Niji, oblivious to the shift in the air, continued with a grin, "Bet she’d lose that defiant little spark real quick once I had my hands on her. What do you think, Yonji? Think she’s worth—"

"I suggest you stop talking."

The words were sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. Niji paused, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. Ichiji’s voice was colder than usual, and there was something else beneath it. Something dangerous. For the first time in the conversation, Niji realized that he might’ve struck a nerve.

Yonji, sitting across from them, raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the tension. "Whoa, what’s this? Getting worked up over a little stray? Don’t tell me you’ve got some feelings for the girl." He grinned, leaning back with a smug look. "But hey, if you’re not going to do anything, I wouldn’t mind—"

"She’s mine."

The room went silent. Ichiji’s voice had dropped, low and possessive, his usual calm mask breaking for just a second. He hated the way his brothers were talking about her. Hated it in a way that surprised even him. They had no right to speak about (Y/N) like that, no right to even think about touching her.

Niji blinked, the smirk faltering on his lips. "Yours?"

"Yes," Ichiji said, his tone cold and final. "She’s mine. Don’t touch her."

For a moment, Niji seemed genuinely shocked. Then, slowly, a smile crept back onto his face, though it was more cautious this time. "Well, well. Looks like big brother’s finally decided to play with the rest of us. Didn’t think you’d be the possessive type."

Ichiji stood, his chair scraping against the floor as he moved. He didn’t bother responding to Niji’s taunts. There was no need. His mind was already made up. (Y/N) was his. He didn’t care what she thought about it, didn’t care what anyone thought. He had tolerated their strange interactions long enough, but now that his brothers had dared to touch the subject, dared to suggest something as vile as taking her for themselves—something in him had snapped.

She was his.

No one else could have her. Not Niji, not Yonji, not anyone. He would decide her fate. He would take her, keep her close—like a pet, he reasoned. Yes, that’s all it was. A stray needed someone to take care of them, didn’t they? Someone with power and control. And he was the only one who could do that.

He was only protecting what was his. Nothing more.

Ignoring the smug looks from Niji and Yonji, Ichiji left the dining hall. His steps were steady, purposeful, as his mind raced. He was going to find her. Take her with him. No more games, no more leaving her to wander aimlessly in the kingdom like she had any choice in the matter. She belonged to him now, whether she realized it or not.

And if she resisted? Well, he’d make sure she understood. One way or another.

[nnephthyss]

webcam play - utahime x reader

plot: you and utahime have a long distance relationship and have a little fun on a webcam.

warnings: clit rubbing, fingering, praising, masturbation

wc. 1.3k

(also please don’t bully me! this is my first ever smut fic and im still learning so any nice criticism would help! thank youu.)

———————————————————————————

it’s been a few months since you met your bestfriend utahime through a game and ever since then you were attached to the hip. it wasn’t like you were gonna be able to see her anytime soon. she lived like what? three or four states away from you? it was impossible to go see her at this rate.

shortly after you two met, you started to have… feelings for her and weren't sure how to tell her. she tells you pretty much everything so you knew she liked girls but weren't sure if she’d like.. you.

you got the courage to tell her and she reacted quite well to your feelings. she reciprocated them actually. you both started to date, having a really good relationship at that but what hurt most was not being able to see each other except through a computer screen.

utahime had the great idea to do a webcam video so you both could see each other. you bought the damn thing, set it up and now here you are looking at the girl through a small camera.

“prettier than i remembered.” the dark haired girl says softly but with a bit of roughness to her voice.

she looked so pretty on the other side of the screen. her hair was messy and tucked behind her ears, instead of that signature bow she wore when she’d send pictures to you over text.

you always felt that weird tingling sensation in your tummy when you saw her or even thought about her. she was beautiful, not to mention sexy. you had only been dating for a couple months, not doing anything sexual at all but damn it, if you don’t think about it.

a small blush appears on your pale face through the dingy frame of the web camera. the lighting wasn’t the best and neither was the video quality. she still looked so mesmerizing in the dark shadow of her room, only being lit up by a small lamp on her desk.

“thank you.” you mutter nervously.

even after being friends for so long and now dating, she still gets you all hot and bothered by a couple words.

“whats the matter, baby?” she asks softly, shifting in her seat to get a better look at you.

the little place between your thighs practically *throbs* at the pet name. you look down, diverting your eyes to your lap as you fiddle with your fingers.

“n-nothing.”

she raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. she gives you that look. you sigh and look back up at her.

“nothing, you just make me nervous uta.” you use her little nickname and she shifts in her seat again but not to get comfortable this time.

she nods her head and smiles at the nervousness written all over your face. she clearly knew there was something else behind those pretty eyes of yours. so she waits for you to continue and it makes you even more aroused at the the thought of her being so assertive.

“i’ve been thinking of you.” you start and then she leans closer to the camera like she’s trying to hear you better, so you speak up.

“thinking about you sexually.” you finish.

she was slightly taken off guard but now fully surprised because she’s been thinking about you the exact same way. she leans her elbows on the sides of her chair and takes a small breath.

“yeah baby?” she asks softly, smugness in her sweet tone.

“yeah and i-“ you try to say but embarrassment gets the best of you and your words die off.

“you what, love?”

fuck, now why did she have to use such sweet nicknames that made your cunt twitch? you keep your eyes on her through the computer screen and take a small breath.

“I touch myself thinking about you. o-only because i miss you and i can’t see you.”

you try to make up and excuse but utahime didn’t care. she was satisfied with what you were sayin. A glimmer hits her dark eyes and she smiles more, like grins.

“oh you have? and can you show me how you touched yourself, baby?”

your jaw almost drops open when that question falls from her mouth so seductively. you stutter for a moment, words dying off in your throat when you try to speak. you were flustered, heart beating fast and neediness racing through your blood.

she watched closely as you start to pull down your sleep shorts. the fabric falls down your thighs and then you kick them off to the floor along with your delicate lacy panties. you were sitting in one of those rolly chairs, so you swallow hard and spread your thighs in the space of the chair.

utahime swallows hard, her throat becoming dry at the view of your soaking wetness that you present to her. she grasps at the handles of the chair and scoots as close as she can to the monitor.

“now go ahead, baby.” she says softly, urging you to show her what you do when you’re all alone.

you don’t hesitate, right hand coming down between your thighs and running a slender finger through your slick. a shaky breath slips from your lips, chest rising and falling at the sensation already.

utahimes eyes are glued between your legs. she licks her lips, thinking about all the times she’s dreamed of seeing you like this.

“ah yes, just like that pretty girl.” she praises as you start to rub small circles around your puffy clit.

you whimper at her words, the praises that fall from her mouth, making you more aroused. you were trying your not to just come at the slow motions but her eyes were on you and her voice. it was killing you.

you speed up your pace, quicker circles and a small moan escapes your throat at the sensation. you can feel that familiar sensation rise in your stomach. burning pleasure runs through your clit and up your spine.

“uta..” her nickname slips from your mouth in a whine.

your eyes were almost drilled shut at this point. mouth quivered, lip underneath your top one as you bite down hard on it. you draw your other hand closer, slipping a single finger into your aching hole and she can’t feel her own self getting heated.

her eyes are on your soaked cunt. she can see the wetness dripping down your thighs and hand at how drenched you were. you suck in a small breathe, body writhing as you start to curl a finger slowly but quickening your pace once you get adjusted.

she watched closely, eyes glued to your face now. she curses to herself at how beautiful you look. your toes start to curl, hands getting tired but you don’t stop because you were so close.

“gonna come.. uta!” you cry out, legs threatening to close.

she nods her head, licking her lips and leaning in even close if that’s possible. she watched as your head fell back against the chair, thighs twitching against the handle bars.

“come for me, pretty girl.” she coos.

after that comes from utahimes mouth, it’s over for you. a loud cry rings through your bedroom and through the webcam speaker. she watches as your body convulses against the chair, your thighs squeezing shut around your hand as you come.

“ahh that’s it.” she murmurs to you, voice rough with desire.

you whimper, coming down from your high. your eyes open and you see how mesmerized utahime looks from the little show you gave her. a small grin comes to your lips but there was still embarrassment deep down inside of you.

finally you withdraw your hand away from your overstimulated cunt and close your legs, squeezing your thighs shut and making eye contact with utahime.

“did so good for me, pretty girl.” she whispers with a large grin on her face.

———————————————————————————

[junkpuppet225]

Heads up, not a Daryl X Reader (because I like to name my OC’s (although I’m not feeling this one’s name (no offense if it’s your name - it’s a great name just doesn’t flow well with Daryl for me) I can’t think of a better one atm) and I like them blonde. Daryl has a type y’all.) Also major spoilers for the series starting now! This is just something that came to me during my rewatch. (I’ve almost made it to the end again. Man these last few seasons are ROUGH.) If you read it let me know what you think and if I should continue and make it into a full blown fanfic.

Notes: Starts out Season 11 Episode 4. Daryl and Leah reunite but thanks to the wonders of fan fiction I can do whatever I want and he never went back for her in Find Me. Sorry girl, ya just weren’t the one. After Leah finds out about Turner she let’s Lacey go, she finds her way back to Maggie and the story plays out like it did on the show until Episode 9 where Daryl’s trying to get back to Maggie. That’s where I’ll start it back up one day. Lemme know what ya think! 🥰

Summary: Daryl met Lacey the night he came to Hilltop after being Negan’s prisoner and they became friends which quickly turned into something more for both of them. Then Rick “died” and Daryl left. This is how they piece back together what they once had. Enjoy!

xxx

Piece by Piece

Lacey

“Let ‘er go and I’ll tell ya whatever ya wanna hear.” Daryl mutters keeping his eyes cast down as Leah glares at him from the other side of the cell bars. Across the hallway I’m trying to push myself up from the concrete, soaking wet and gasping for air.

I’ve never been water boarded before. Check that one off the bucket list.

“You know her.” Leah says with pain in her voice. “You care about her.”

“I done told you - I ain’t with them. She ain’t either. You’re torturin’ an innocent girl, for nothin’, - that ain’t you.”

“You don’t know anything about me!” Leah snaps and crosses the hall jerking open my unlocked cell door to grab me by my wet hair - forcing my face up to Daryl’s. I close my eyes tightly and will away the tears threatening to fall. “You know him!” She screams as I shake my head no while more water rushes from my drowned lungs. “You’re with the group on the road - both of you! Tell me where they are!”

Call it star-crossed ingenuity or just plain luck but somehow Daryl and I have managed to give this psycho bitch the same story without even speaking to each other. We don’t know each other and we sure as hell don’t know anything about Maggie. Just two assholes with a serious case of wrong place wrong time. My heart is racing in my chest… probably from the water boarding but I like to think it has something to do with how in-tuned Daryl and I are even after all these years.

Leah’s not buying it though and socks me across the jaw to assure everyone in the dimly lit room just that. “Didn’t peg you for a desperate bitch.” Daryl mutters - oozing nonchalance as I spit out a mouthful of blood just to have my captor slug me again. You can stop talking anytime now Dixon.

X

Seeing Daryl for the first time would be a memory etched into my very core until my dying day, blue eyes lingering far to long at the battered and broken man dragging his feet behind Jesus as they push their way into Hilltop’s infirmary. The haunted look in Daryl’s gaze still keeps me lying awake to this day because even after all this time - it’s still there. I don’t catch it as often now - he’s allowed himself to heal over the years - barely, but that first night in Hilltops infirmary as I cleaned him up and dressed his wounds I thought there was nothing left of the man sitting before me.

“Daryl, whatever happened - with Negan? It’s not your fault. I just want you to hear that from someone who wasn’t there. Okay?”

Daryl only grunted his responses for the first four days at Hilltop so we sat in silence and I watched him - the way his body would jerk violently in his sleep, the absolute grief that washed over him at the most random times and the tremble of his hands as he clutched his fingers together to try and will it away.

The first time he spoke to me I knew his was the only voice I would ever long for.

“Don’t need yer sympathy. Don’t deserve it.”

I remember being so surprised by hearing his deep voice that it took me a solid minute to register his words - watching him stare down at the deep groves in the worn wood of the picnic table outside the infirmary. Gregory never came down this far - he’d never burden himself with checking on the sick or injured so this was where Daryl stayed - to keep away from our loud mouthed leader. To be alone with his thoughts.

“Concern and sympathy aren’t the same thing.”

Then he was back to grunting. Eventually time heals wounds…, or at least allows us to learn how to better hide the pain. The first time I heard Daryl laugh? The way his breath hitched in his throat and the smile that spread across his face? That night sealed my fate.

I kissed him because I’d still be waiting for him to make the first move if I hadn’t but when he kissed me back I saw stars. The way his rough hands sank into my hair and his body pressed to mine. The gasps that rushed from my lips while he fucked me into oblivion. Behind closed doors Daryl treated me like I was the absolute center of his world - kissed me like his very life depended on it - he even told me he loved me once, whispered softly against my throat in the darkness.

I would have followed Daryl to hell and back except hell found us and we never left. Rick died and Daryl couldn’t accept it.

“I let two fuckin’ brothers die on MY watch! I can’t…, I can’t fuckin’ sit here and play house with you Lacey. I belong out there.” The grief that clung to his words still haunts me to this day. “Then take me with you.”

The last time I heard Daryl laugh it broke my heart.

“Nah. Girl like you? Don’t belong out there. Ya don’t belong with me.”

I watched with tears in my eyes as he loaded his gear and left Hilltop in search of Rick without even saying goodbye. When he’d ride in from time to time to visit Judith and RJ or to trade with the communities he never spoke to me, never lifted his head in my direction and when Maggie said she was leaving Hilltop a few years later - I went with her.

X

Daryl

“Leah. Listen to me, this ain’t you. She’s just someone they met on the road - same as me. I watched ‘em from the tree line, watched ‘em trade her some food for half her medical supplies. That’s the reason I showed myself to ‘em. I was starving.”

“Why didn’t you just take what they had? I’ve seen you fight a field of walkers!”

I lift my eyes to hers slowly. Whoever Leah was back in that cabin in the woods six years ago is not the woman standing before me today. “‘Cause that ain’t me an’ you know it.” I watch Leah drop Lacey to the ground with a frustrated growl as the smaller woman continues to pull air into her ruined lungs. Seeing her like this - knowing what the fuck they’ve done to her has my insides humming with rage but I can’t blow our cover. She probably hates my guts and she hasn’t blown mine. “Let her go and I’ll do whatever the fuck you want Leah. I’ll go hunt these fuckin’ people down myself.”

“You care about her.”

This is one of the reasons I’ve kept to myself all these years. Fucking women. We all have one mutual enemy in this world - the dead trying to kill us yet I’m sitting here arguing with a fucking psycho ex girlfriend.

“How many times do I gotta tell ya? I don’t fucking know her! All I’ve ever heard her talk about is the kid she lost. Says she buries all the kid walkers she comes across because of it. S’a fuckin’ waste’a time.”

Leah’s eyes go wide and I know I’ve hit my mark.

When I first met Lacey I didn’t even know she was in the room with me until she brushed her fingers through my disgusting hair trying to access the damage to my face as I flinched away from her touch. That first night at Hilltop I kept zoning out, kept getting lost in my fucking head to the point Lacey had to softly remind me to breathe until I finally passed out from exhaustion.

She was the first person I ever met that didn’t try to pry all of my secrets from me at once. She let me sit with my thoughts in silence until I couldn’t take her troubled gaze anymore. It wasn’t sympathy in her pale blue eyes - it was something much worse. Concern. Like she really gave a shit about someone like me.

The first time I spoke to her I wasn’t kind. I didn’t thank her for all the hours she spent physically putting me back together. I told her I didn’t deserve her sympathy - knowing she offered none - but her concern for me made her cross that small trailer when I woke up screaming later that night. I could have really hurt her, could have fucking killed her the way I grabbed her as she placed a small hand on my chest to rouse me from yet another nightmare but her soft voice soothed me out of my terror and she never mentioned the pain I know I caused her.

It took a long time for me to even get back to half the man I was before we met Negan and that’s not saying much cause I was pretty fucking lost way before that but it was months after Negan was locked up in Alexandria that I allowed myself to relax. I wouldn’t even use the word allowed. It’s just something that happened. I was so fucking exhausted from all of it that when I stumbled down the stairs after a hot shower and found Lacey sitting alone at the kitchen table I let her kiss me. The things she let me do to her after that will forever be etched in my brain. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss the feel of her body or the sound of her voice. After Rick died I couldn’t stand the thought of him being out there roaming the world as one of those things. Lacey never asked me to stay - never forced me to choose she just asked to come with me and I broke her heart.

I watched the light dim from her beautiful eyes the day I packed my things and left Hilltop without a word. When I finally saw her again - six years later by Maggie’s side it had yet to return. Lacey was different now too - she was quiet and that look I first saw in her blue eyes, the concern she had for people? That was long gone.

I came back for you. When I didn’t find Rick along the whole fuckin’ coast I knew he wasn’t out there so I came back… to apologize to ya. To tell ya how fuckin’ lost I am without you…. but I guess I’m too late.

Three words is all she’s spoke to me since she showed up with Maggie two weeks ago. No bullshit about burying kids or reassuring words that she forgives me for leaving her. I watched her lift her blue eyes to mine, wisps of blonde hair blowing around her pretty face.

“Yeah, you are.”

X

“Jus’ let her go. I’ll help ya find these people - I swear.”

I watch Leah pace the narrow hallway between our cells, glancing back to Lacey who’s eerily quiet. Anxiety pulls at my heart as I watch her lying lifeless on the cold ground and then Leah kicks her in the stomach, bringing her back to life as a deep groan fills the room.

“What do you know about these people?” She demands, finally stepping away from Lacey to return to my side - prison bars between us. I lift my eyes from Lacey as she wraps her arms around her torso in pain. “I don’t know shit. I’ve never lied to you Leah. Never and I’m not gonna start now.”

Leah sighs in frustration again. “I’d help you if I could - you know I would. Just give me dog and let us go. You’ll never see me again.”

“Is that what you want?” The pain in Leah’s voice lifts Lacey’s head from the ground and our eyes meet for the first time in a long time. “I came back for you, Leah. I looked everywhere for you. I’m sorry you ended up with these people - you belong with me… but her? She’s not like us. She’s weak - just some girl on the road. Let her go and I’ll help ya.”

A thud brings Leah’s attention to the lone door but my eyes stay on Lacey who doesn’t even flinch at the sudden noise. I watch the silent tears run down her pale cheeks. I don’t know if she’ll make it out of here alive. Hell, I don’t even know if I will but I hope she knows I didn’t mean anything I just said. She’s the only person I’ve ever came back for - the only woman I’ve ever loved. Leah has to think she’s some weak heart broken girl who also lost a kid or else she’ll kill her. I just hope one day I get the chance to tell her how much she meant to me.

Some asshole in Leah’s group pushes through the hallway, nodding to the exit.

“What is it?”

“…found Bossie.”

Leah stands quickly with a gasp. “…and Turner?”

The Reaper shakes his head silently telling her he’s dead. I lift my eyes to Leah as she covers her face, grief washing over her as she looks to Lacey’s crumpled form still clinging to the damp floor. “….take her back to the road and leave her. Make sure she gets what she came here with.”

“What about him?”

I watch Leah turn back to me slowly.

“I’ll get what we need out of him.”

X

[maverickscorner]

Faber suae fortunae

Or Maider's love story towards freedom.

Chapter 10

Tenax watched Maider write, captivated.

Although he was mostly illiterate, and secretly very ashamed of it, he understood that it wasn’t the Latin alphabet.

-What language is that?

-Aramaic- Maider replied. -It was the language I used to speak with my father and my adoptive family. It’s easier to communicate with them this way.

-And also more discreet- Tenax observed.

She smiled at him.

-Not that I’m revealing any great secrets. I’m just telling them that I’m well and safe. That I’m free, in short.

-Got it. And in how many languages do you know to read and write?

-Four, but I’m fluent only in Aramaic and Latin. The others… let’s say I get by.

-That’s still quite a number.

-Yeah. You’re looking at a girl who received an aristocratic education.

Tenax chuckled.

-The best one around.

-You can bet on it.

Maider finished writing. She had noticed how Tenax was watching her, interested, and had guessed that he didn’t know how to read or write. Although they had grown quite close, she still didn’t feel ready to explore parts of him that Tenax preferred to keep hidden. She wanted to discover every side of him, but in due time. She, with her impulsive character, would force herself to be extremely patient with him. She cared for him. Tenax deserved it.

Maider let the ink dry. Then she rolled up the parchment, tied it with a string, and handed it to Tenax.

-The destination is the Ben-Hur house in Jerusalem, on Temple Street.

-Alright. We’ll head to the market soon; we’ll meet Porthos there.

Maider looked surprised.

-The market? Isn’t today a holiday?

Tenax realized he had made a mistake. He was used to making decisions without considering anyone or anything. But now there was Maider, and he cared about her. Maider had a decision-making power, a voice, and even the ability to change his decisions.

"Way too much power, but I can’t do anything about it".

-Yes, you’re right. But at Nundinae, in the heart of Rome, there’s also the most important market of the city. People from all over the empire come to sell everything: from food to tools to clothes...

-Hold on, did you say clothes?

Tenax stopped. He nodded.

-Yes, clothes. There are…

Maider’s eyes lit up. Tenax couldn’t even finish the sentence before she burst out like a flood:

-Oh, please, let’s absolutely go! I’ve saved up some money from working at the tavern, and I’d really love to buy a new dress! Claudia was so kind to lend me her old ones, but in Jerusalem I had a whole wardrobe of my own, and here I only have two or three used dresses, and... Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful, but...

Tenax stood up, walked around the table, and stood beside her, gently placing his hands on her cheeks.

-Maider?

-Yes?- she said, captivated.

-I understand, it’s all fine. We’ll go buy some new clothes. You don’t need to overwhelm me with words every time. I care about you. I like seeing you happy. Alright?

She nodded. She hugged him gratefully.

-Thank you, Tenax. I like seeing you happy too, for the record.

Tenax pulled back a little to meet her gaze. They kissed.

-When I’m with you, I get pretty close to it- he confessed -But at the market, we’ll need to be very discreet. No one knows you’re free, nor that there’s something between us. I’m a very... controversial figure, sometimes despised. I care too much about you to let someone hurt you because of me.

-It won’t happen- Maider said -We’ll be discreet. I’ll be discreet. We’ll pretend I’m still your property.

-So be it. Go get changed, then. We’re leaving in ten minutes.

-Alright, my lord and master...- she said, bowing to him with a wink.

Tenax blushed but hid it, watching her slip out of his embrace and head towards her room.

He shook his head.

"You’ll be my undoing".

And he couldn’t be happier about it.

***

The Nundinae market was truly immense.

Maider was immediately captivated, bouncing from one stall to another with enthusiasm. The vendors, charmed by her exuberance, offered her samples of various foods or let her feel how soft the fabric of dresses was or how smooth the metal surface of various tools was.

Tenax watched her with a smile he couldn’t erase, even though he knew it would be more convenient to do so.

He only stopped smiling when he saw people on the street recognizing Maider.

-Hey, look, it’s Maider!

-Yeah, it’s her!

-It's the girl with the most beautiful voice in Rome!

-The one who sings at Tenax’s tavern!

Tenax sighed. Maider’s popularity was growing visibly. It wasn’t that he wanted to keep her chained to him, but he cared about her and worried for her. The word “fame” didn’t necessarily align with “safety.” He had seen it with Scorpus and with himself.

He saw Maider approaching him with her usual smile, and his mind lightened immediately.

-Tenax! That stall has some beautiful pans. You have to come see them; I’m sure Claudia would love them!

-Oh, yes!- said Claudia, joining them with shopping bags in hand. -Claudia would absolutely love them!

Tenax rolled his eyes. He took a small pouch of sesterces from his belt and handed it to the women.

-Alright. Just don’t spend it all, okay?

Claudia and Maider struggled to contain their excitement and, arm in arm, headed for the stall.

***

In the center of the market, there was a square with several stalls dedicated to food. People drank and ate while seated at wooden tables. In one corner, a small group was playing rhythmic music.

Before Tenax could stop her, Maider recognized Reilo among the group and ran to him.

-Reilo!- she exclaimed.

The young man smiled at her from afar and waved. The two greeted each other warmly. Tenax stayed at a distance, keeping an eye on the situation. From time to time, someone would acknowledge him, bowing their head and murmuring "Aedile Ludi". He responded with a polite nod, but nothing more. He had already given Maider’s letter to Porthos, asking for the utmost discretion.

The group stopped playing; Reilo and Maider spoke with the other musicians, discussing something unknown to Tenax. He grew nervous.

“I've never known a girl more stubborn than you, Maider...” he thought. He had told her to be careful, and she...

-Good morning, citizens of Rome!- Tenax heard her saying from the musicians’ platform -How about having a little fun?

Everyone turned towards her. Many recognized her and applauded.

Maider counted to four, then the group started playing a particularly rhythmic tune. She clapped her hands, and the crowd followed. Many stood up.

Maider began to sing.

-My baby wants a tunic, she’s been asking me all night long...!

Tenax’s eyes widened. He looked around as the song continued. People started dancing.

-One, here comes the two to the three to the four...!

Tenax scanned the area. The praetorians at the edges of the square watched the crowd without concern, chatting amongst themselves and occasionally glancing at Maider. Tenax clenched his fists.

-Everybody at the bar getting tipsy!

The crowd was having the time of their lives. People danced together, happy and carefree, to the infectious rhythm of the music. This was Maider’s magic.

Tenax relaxed his muscles, trying to enjoy the moment. He was probably worrying too much, but he would have to talk to Maider seriously after the performance. He always became incredibly nervous when he couldn't keep the situation under control, and it was time to tell her, because sometimes, perhaps due to the carefree nature of her personality, she acted quite wild.

And yet, he couldn't be too angry with her for it. He cared about her mostly because she was different.

Even though her difference, in a city like Rome, could be very dangerous.

***

Further back, on the opposite side of the square, a group of Jewish slaves watched Maider with disgust.

-It’s her- one of them said -The girl from the Hur household who now performs for these damn Romans.

-Another woman of our people prostituting herself for the favor of the oppressors- the eldest said.

-And worse, she sings and plays songs from our folk tradition, but translates them into Latin!

-What should we do, then?- asked another.

The old man seemed to think for a moment.

-She must be eliminated- he said -Or God will pour His wrath upon us.

The other men nodded, and the group withdrew into the shadows.

***

Hi everyone! It's Eli. Things are starting to happen! Hope you like this new chapter. Let me know in the comments what you think. Hugs and kisses ❤️

P.S. This is the songs Maider sings ☺️

[lonesome-witching]

Marry Me

Another Rich Robin x Poor Nancy one. Last one for a while (mostly judging by the amount of prompts I currently have.) If you want to read the previous parts, you can find : Part 1 here, Part 2 here, Part 3 here and the last part here .

Do you have any prompts yourself? Or do you want to dive into what I wrote before? You can read my previous prompts or send me some new ones.

Robin’s fingers tapped against the surface of the kitchen table. She was nervous. Like, very, very nervous. She wasn’t sure she was prepared for this.

“Here you go, darling.” Karen placed a glass of water in front of Robin. “Nancy isn’t here right now. I’m afraid she’s at work.”

“I know that, ma’am. I’m not here for Nancy.”

“Oh, alright. What can I help you with?” Karen sat down.

“I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Go ahead.”

“I know you are aware of my relationship with your daughter,” Robin started.

“Yes, she told me. I might not fully understand it, but you make my daughter happy and that is all that matters to me.”

“So, what I wanted to ask you was, I want your blessing to ask Nancy to marry me. And I know that might be a little weird with you getting a divorce. Shit, I shouldn’t say that. This might have been an awful idea.”

“Robin, breathe.” Karen placed her hand on Robin’s arm. “You have my blessing. And I don’t think this is an awful idea. Nancy loves you. You might have to be gentle with her when you ask but I think she’ll say yes.”

-

“What’s the occasion?” Nancy asked when she got out of Robin’s car.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re at the mall. So, unless this is some form of emotional torture where you’ll show me all the things I can’t have, you’re going to buy me stuff. And we discussed this. You’re already helping with the bills and that’s already too much.” Nancy had a smile on her face.

“I just wanted to go out with my girl.”

“Robin.”

“Fine, I occasionally want to spoil you and I know you’ve been working hard. And there is a reason.”

“What is the reason?”

“You got into college, full scholarship and all.”

Nancy poked Robin’s chest, a dopey smile on her face. “Alright, I’ll allow it.”

Robin laughed. “You should be proud, babe.”

Nancy shook her head and pulled her girlfriend towards the building. She noticed Robin’s sweaty palms, but she didn’t comment on it. If something was going on, Robin would tell her. She told her everything.

They didn’t go to the mall often. Nancy had never liked the mall much with its big, neon lit reminders of what she couldn’t afford. But today was different. Today she’d indulge in all it had to offer. Within reason of course. She still felt guilty taking Robin’s money.

“Where would you like to go first?” Robin asked.

“I don’t even know where to start.”

They ended up passing through every single store in the mall. Book stores and clothing stores and a quick stop at the ice cream shop.

“You look great in that, Nance.”

Nancy twirled around in the flowy beach dress. “It feels nice. It makes me want to travel to California or… or Italy or something.”

Robin chuckled. “Say the word and we’ll go.”

Nancy turned towards her. “I think it could never live up to my imagination.”

“Italy is pretty incredible. I’ll take you sometime.”

“I’ll get out of this dress now. Thanks for being patient with me.”

“Alright, I’ll go pay then?”

Nancy halted. “Robin, this is way too expensive.”

“You haven’t picked anything yet, Nance. And you like the dress.”

“Are you sure?” Nancy bit her bottom lip. She wanted to take this. She wanted this damn dress.

“Yes! It would be perfect for the date I have planned for us.”

“What date? You haven’t told me about a date.”

“It’s for when we get to Massachusetts.”

“Oh, is it?”

-

“Where are you taking me?” Nancy laughed. She felt like she had been walking for hours. It probably hadn’t been that long.

“Just a little bit further, we’re almost there.” Robin’s hand was holding hers. It was comforting.

“Have you been here before?”

“Yeah, I just to come here as a child. It was my favorite place growing up. One time, I ran away from my parents and just stayed on the beach. It took them 37 hours to notice I was gone.”

“That’s awful.”

“It was quite alright, I had a blast. And I vowed to take the love of my life to that exact spot that night.”  

“You’re flirting again.”

“Am I not allowed to flirt with my own girlfriend?” Robin asked, stopping as her feet stepped on the sand.

“You can, in fact, it’s encouraged.”

Robin smiled brightly. “We’re here.”

Nancy looked around, noticing the sandy beach and the bright blue ocean. At one point she had compared Robin’s blue eyes to the ocean not knowing she’d be so right. “This is incredible.”

“I used to sit right there and watch the boats go by.” Robin pointed towards the ocean, walking towards it. Nancy followed.

They sat down, side by side on the sand. “Thanks for sharing this with me.”

“I’m only just getting started. If my calculations are right, there should be a boat approaching right now.”

Nancy watched as a guy in a paddle boat came closer and closer. “You’ve got something planned, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Robin said with a smirk on her face. But she got up, pulling Nancy up with her, and walked towards the water.

They got into the boat. For once, Robin was silent. Just grinning like a little kid. It was infectious.

Slowly they approached a much larger boat. “What’s that?”

Robin turned around. “That is my parents’ boat. The Mona Lisa. They named it that because in their words it’s such a work of art.”

“Of course, your parents have a boat.”

“We’re borrowing it for the night.”

The Mona Lisa was a nice boat. That much was sure. Even with Nancy’s limited knowledge of boats. She’d never been on one before now. There was a table set up on the deck with a nice white tablecloth and a candle.

“So, Nancy, I know you don’t like these extravagant dates or expensive gifts. But you gave me an exception for special occasions. And today is a special occasion, to me at least. I hope it will be to you too.” Robin poured some wine in Nancy’s glass.

“Thank you,” Nancy said automatically as she grabbed for the glass. She was confused, very confused.

“I also know that this is not the most opportune moment for me to do this. But I had been planning this for a few months and it does take a lot of planning. I had to get a guy with a paddle boat and a chef to prepare a meal. I just wanted it to be perfect, for you, and then Ted goes and screws it up.” Robin sighed, falling down on her chair.

“What? Robin, I don’t understand.”

“Nancy, I love you. You know I love you. For the longest time you’ve meant everything to me, and you still do, for the record. I just­— I’ve planned this speech, I promise. You just make a nervous.” Robin took a deep breath. “I know life sucks sometimes. Your parents’ divorce has been heavy on you. But sometimes life is amazing. I’m hoping this moment is amazing for you. But God, Nance, to me every moment with you is incredible. Whether we’re on a fancy boat together or I’m helping you and your mom clean your house. I just want to be with you all the time. I’ve never felt like this before. And I don’t want to this to ever stop.”

“Neither do I,” Nancy agreed, placing her hand on top of Robin’s on the table.

But Robin pulled her hand back. A flash of fear crossed Nancy’s mind. And then Robin fell of her chair, on one knee, and retrieved a small box out of her jacket pocket.

“Will you marry me, Nance?” Robin asked, opening the box. “You can say no, I’ll be okay if you say no. I get that now really isn’t the time. Of course. I’m an idiot for even asking, just as your parents are going through a divorce.”

“Yes,” Nancy mumbled.

“I know, it’s ludicrous.”

“No, Robin,” Nancy laughed. “I meant, yes, I will marry you. I want to marry you.” Nancy dropped down in front of Robin, in her brand new beach dress and grabbed Robin’s face to kiss her.

“You do?” Robin asked when Nancy pulled away.

Nancy nodded. “I do.” She pulled the ring from the box and slid it on her left ring finger. “I love you, Robin.”

Robin leaped forward to kiss Nancy again. And again. And again.

[meetevieinthehallway]

hey y’all!! lil blurb for u!! i turned 22 today (: so here’s some bday fluff. this idea was so spur of the moment, and i’m not even sure i love it, but here she is!!

—

“i’m here!!! i’m here i’m here god i am so sorry—”

she really just hates today.

she hates the date, the time of year, the way the sun hangs low yet harshly and stings with a sticky, uncomfortable feeling that has her scrubbing at her skin in the shower like it isn’t something delicate, and she hates the way she spent her two showers today washing her hair four times, just trying to move the day along. she thinks the hot water won’t return for a month, but in the moment it seemed worthwhile.

and this. this is exactly what she didn’t want to happen.

it was already bad enough that she hated her own birthday with a loathing burn in her abdomen, trying to distract from the incessant memories of empty childhood birthday parties and the pain of growing and the blatant lack of care from her parents growing up— it’s not like they decided to have her or something— they probably didn’t. to them it was just another day beneath the boil of july that needed to move along quicker than any other, and she supposed after a while, when the tears had dried and her throat stopped burning, that there was some merit to that. she hated cake anyways, and hated being the center of anything, let alone an entire day, and she never wanted any more than she needed. but this.. this was somehow worse.

harry knew of this, this loathing of the day that commemorated her life, the essence of his beautiful girl, and he thought it was the most heart wrenching thing he’s ever seen or heard of. every year he would buy her a small present that she’d scowl at him for, and even when her eyes lit up after the wrapping hit the floor, it never received much more than a soft “thank you, i love it. i love you.” and a quick kiss to his cheek or his lips, and that was it. he knew better than to spoil her the way he wanted to, and he knew better than to only wish her a happy birthday less than twice in the 24-hours. it pained him every year, but he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable for his own sake. the only thing she ever asked of him is that he spend the day with her, and she never even meant the full day— a few hours in the morning, or a lunch date, or a movie night after dinner, was sufficient. she would rather his presence than anything.

which is exactly why she didn’t want this to happen.

because this year seemed, different. she was turning an age she wasn’t thrilled about, and the loathing and anger had settled itself from swirling into a deep pit of something sad. she didn’t know why— couldn’t pin-point it, but she had been going through something of a depressive episode she couldn’t shake, and her birthday being smack in the middle of it definitely didn’t help.

but, harry promised her he’d only work the morning, and that they’d spend the entire day at home together, whether it was a movie marathon or reading by the window or just laying together and letting her bask in his familiar warmth. he knew what to do when she was going through something like this. and she actually felt a twinge of something happy in her stomach when he said that, sealing the promise with a it’s a no pressure day. i’ll even rub your back how you like.

but here it all is— the inevitable, the reason she grew to hate this day since she was sixteen, why she stopped telling friends when it was, why she hated cake and presents and everything in between: the disappointment.

because when harry barges through the door with the lingering taste of his forgotten promise, the clock’s small hand is nearing three, and by one she had already curled herself up on the couch with wet hair and an uneaten salad from the grocery store left to its own devices on the coffee table. there was a rerun of seinfeld droning on the television, and as much as she hated the show she couldn’t muster enough effort to reach for the remote. she wasn’t sure how long it was playing for. at the sound of his clamoring footsteps she winces, then sighs, and she turns over the couch to face the sound just as he barrels through.

his face says it all, mirroring her own disappointment but his expression lacks the apathy glazing over her eyes. and at the sight of that, his heart stutters, and he’s almost panting with worry and nerves and they’re staring at each other for too long of a beat without a single sound throughout the house.

she bites the inside of her lip. “hi,” she says softly.

“hi,” he breathes, rushing to the front of the couch where she has turned back to, her socks sliding together like how they do when she’s sad. his hand reaches for her heel, and he crouches, watching her hands fold under her cheek. his hand rubs at her ankle and she sighs contently at the touch, and he’s staring desperately at her face. “i’m so sorry, bug. i got caught up.”

she hums a flat “mm.” and he sighs. he pauses, biting his cheek, watching her eyes leave their glance at him to stare at the television droning behind him.

“i—.. uh. i got you something.”

at this she looks to him with the same scowl she always does, every year on this day, and he smiles weakly at the familiar expression. her eyebrows are knitted together and a frown sinks into her lips.

“didn’t want anything.” she says it differently this year, this time laced with an apathetic flatness rather than an annoyance or even a smile within the words, eyes drifting back to the screen.

“i know.” he says, hand moving up her leg. “but, it’s why i was gone today, and so i think you should at least see it before you decide to kick me to the couch t’night.”

her eyes flick back to him, her eyebrows lifting slightly from their place between the space between them, and she sees a soft smile on his face.

and as much as she hates today, and as much as she’s mad at him, she is doomed to love that smile regardless of time. before she can say anything, he stands slowly, smiles and walks out of her view, and she begins to sit up to chase him in her vision. her eyebrows are still pulled down when he disappears completely, and all she hears is a gentle rustling.

his face appears suddenly from the corner of the wall, a grin now stretching his cheeks. “gotta close your eyes, love.”

her expression breaks, and she can’t help but roll her eyes, scoffing. “harry.” she says sternly, with a tinge of warning. “no.”

“c’mon babes,” he says, eyes gleaming with something boyish.

“harry, you know i hate this.” she deadpans, “and you know i’m mad at you. don’t push it.”

he falters slightly, his smile settling into a pout. “i know, love, i’m sorry. i-i just…” he comes around the corner completely, his hands pressed gently against a box no bigger than one for shoes, a big bow seeming to mock her atop it, “.. i wanted to do something special. i know you hate your birthday, but i can’t help wanting to celebrate you—”

“you weren’t here.”

he pauses, faltering again.

“you know i hate it, so why weren’t you here with me?”

she feels pathetic, and she can feel her emotions spinning out of control, and she hisses at the tears that dot her waterline. she’s tired of feeling so tired, and it’s all unleashing now, so she turns her face away from where he’s standing. she knows she’s stubborn and sharp and blunt but she doesn’t know what to do. all she wanted was him today, and he kept her waiting, and suddenly all the years of disappointment have piled into one blow even with the smallest occurrence. right as she says it, she feels ridiculous, and shakes her head, “harry—”

“because i wanted you to have two coming home to you.”

she halts, everything in her mind and body halts. what???

she turns back to look at him, and when she does she hears a soft thud to the floor, and her eyes follow, the box and the bow completely forgotten to their flooring. her eyes trail up, and cradled softly in his large tattooed hands is a ball of fur.

is that..—

it’s a gray little bunny, black eyes blinking at her, ears twitching despite the deafening silence.

“happy birthday” he grins at her, his fingers coming to pet at the space between his ears.

she’s speechless. her mind is racing with what’s in front of her— so small, so seemingly insignificant, but so unbelievable.

“mini lop, just like you’ve always wanted, yeah?”

she barely hears him, because she’s on her feet and padding over to him quickly, and his smile widens the closer she approaches him.

she—… she’s wanted a bunny, for, forever. it’s what she always begged her parents for for her birthday as long as she could remember, when her birthday meant something to her. she made presentations to convince them, hours of drawing and crafting in every method of attempted persuasion she knew how, just for them to not even glance her way when she talked about it. they always told her she was too young, too irresponsible for a pet at whatever age she was turning, and told her “maybe next year”, but the years faded by and the presentations became less elaborate and quicker dismissed and her excitement depleted and she stopped asking completely, stuffing her drawings to the bottom of her bed to collect dust. and once she stopped asking, she stopped caring about the day, too, and her childish dream seemed to fade with the years, and all it then became was a stupid child’s idea and greedy want.

but here, its fur nestled between harry’s fingers, it wasn’t so small and stupid and insignificant as she once told herself it was.

she had only told him once, and it was two years ago, when her head was nestled in his lap and a pet commercial whizzed by the television.

why didn’t you ever get one when you got older?

she had shrugged, turning her face to look up at him.

dunno. just kinda stopped asking, and i never thought much of it again. i do love them, though, ‘specially the ones with the floppy ears. cute lil buggers.

you should get one!

another shrug. ‘s okay. she said. just a little kid’s want. no biggie.

it was a minute-long conversation, something so fleeting and small curled up in his lap and she can’t believe that the smallest thing she said had stuck in his memory for that long.

“you.. you got me a bunny?” her voice cracks to a whisper, and her eyes are really welling up now, and harry’s eyes watch as her face softens. “you… what?”

he tucks his lips together, “yeah.” he says, and he watches as her hands join his at the spot between the fur. “i did, lovie. you wanna hold ‘im? he’s very cuddly.”

she’s silent for a moment, or two, or three, and he studies her face for any break of reaction. when it does, it’s a small nod, childlike and teary, and he passes the little thing off to her easily. her hands falter, nervous and hesitant against his weight, but she takes him, watching as he nestles in her arms.

“cute, in’he? he reminds me of you.”

she’s not even looking at the bunny in her arms, the thing she’s always wanted, the little girl’s dream never fulfilled. she’s looking at him, and her tears are flowing freely down her cheeks, and she’s beginning to laugh through her tears a bit, and harry smiles.

“i-i… i don’t— what?”

he chuckles, leaning forward to kiss the top of her head, his hand coming to rub at her bicep. “i’m sorry that i’m late. he was a little further away than i anticipated. i stopped for his food ‘n stuff, too, so i’m sorry, but i had—”

she gently lunges forward to smear her lips against his, and he startles, then softens, his hand reaching to her cheek. when she pulls away, he watches her eyes remain closed for a beat, almost drinking him in, and when she opens them, they’ve softened.

“i.. i don’t know how to thank you.” she says quietly, “harry, i… this means so much…”

“i know, love, it’s okay.”

she looks down on the gray fluff in her hold, and her smile grows quickly, until she let’s out a laugh and shifts her weight on her feet. “oh my god!” she says, “he’s really mine?”

harry’s finger hooks beneath her jaw, tilting her face back up to meet his eyes. he plants a kiss to the center of her forehead, humming into her skin. he pulls away, looking down on her smile growing brighter by the second.

“all yours.”

[cataztrophi]

TAZ November Celebration 6: Truth

Just a short, kind of silly one for this @taznovembercelebration ficlet! My card was "truth," so here's one about Magnus trying to lie, to the despair of actual professional liar Taako.

Taako was a champion liar. It was a skill he'd honed through years of practice and one that had saved his ass more times than he could count. He could lie unabashedly, about anything, to anyone, and he'd do it while looking them straight in the eye. He had once convinced Barold that he was both SCUBA and forklift certified. 

This deception-based superpower of his had only one weakness, and that was one of his dumbass friends opening their big mouth before he could spin his web of lies. Unfortunately, this was precisely the situation he now found himself in. 

He had been helping Magnus pick out an engagement ring, and doing–in his opinion anyway–an excellent job at keeping him somewhat sane. No, Julia wouldn't care if the stone was lab-grown. Yes, the whole ‘three-month salary' thing was made up by diamond sellers. No, Julia wasn't one of those penguins that courted each other by exchanging rocks, and she would probably say yes even if he proposed with something from Dollar Tree. 

Everything had been going rather well, all things considered, until the shop bell rang and in walked Julia herself. Her face lit up when she saw them.

“Julia!” Magnus exclaimed, completely failing to look unsuspicious. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm picking up my dad's watch for him, he sent it here to get the band fixed. What are you doing here, hon?”

Taako opened his mouth to deliver one of his trademark bulletproof cover stories, but before he could get a word out Magnus charged ahead with his own panic-fueled explanation. 

“I'm helping Taako!” he said. Not a bad start. “Pick out a gift!” Plausible, even if Magnus wasn’t too high on the list of people Taako sought jewelry advice from. “For his boyfriend!”

Ah, fuck, there it was. Rule one of crafting a believable lie: don't invent something that will invite a lot of follow-up questions. And that was exactly what Magnus had just done, as evidenced by Julia's face lighting up like a neon sign.

“You didn't tell me you were seeing anyone!” she exclaimed. 

Taako jerked his head noncommittally. “Eh, you know me, I tend to keep it pretty chill.”

“But you like this one?”

“Yeah, he's pretty great.” Well, he wasn't going to have a shitty imaginary boyfriend. 

Julia shifted her canvas grocery bag to a more comfortable position, signaling that she was prepared to discuss this for a while. “Well, what's his name?”

“Kravitz.” Hmm. He just sort of had that one ready to go, huh? That would warrant a little pondering later. Then, because he knew Julia wasn't going to be satisfied with just that, he added, “He's a cellist.”

“Wow, that's awesome! You'll have to introduce us sometime. In fact,” she laid a hand on Magnus’ arm. “We're having a little get-together on Saturday, just a few of us. I don’t want to push, I know meeting the friends can be weird, but I’d love it if you and Kravitz could come!”

“For sure,” Taako said, his control of this lie slipping with every second. “I mean, I'll have to check in with him about his work schedule, he's pretty busy right now.”

Julia nodded. “Well, I hope you can make it! Good luck with your gift shopping.” She gave Taako a smile and Magnus a peck on the cheek before walking over to the store clerk. As soon as her back was turned Taako glared at Magnus. 

“What?” Magnus mouthed with a shrug. Taako rolled his eyes and pretended to peruse the men's rings until Julia left the shop.

“So,” Magnus said once the coast was clear, a broad grin spreading across his face. “Tell me about this Kravitz guy.”

Right, Kravitz. Taako’s hot goth neighbor Kravitz. Kravitz, who really was a professional cellist, with strong hands that Taako could imagine doing all sorts of things. Kravitz, who he saw at the farmer's market sometimes, who always asked him what mushrooms to buy or which wine went best with whatever he was making. The guy he had completely normal, neighborly feelings about. 

Taako rolled his eyes. “There’s nothing to tell, my man. I had to tell her something to cover up your shitty lie.”

Magnus had the audacity to look hurt. “What was wrong with it?”

“Well, for starters, you’re making me fabricate an entire relationship in four days.”

“I mean, you could just tell her you’re busy.”

He waved this suggestion away. “No, no, I can make it work, you’re just gonna owe me for it.”

Magnus’ shit-eating grin returned, undeterred. “Okay, but you gotta let me be the best man at yours and Kravitz’s wedding.”

Taako glared at him. “That’s gonna be real hard to do from six feet under, Burnsides.”

Little though Taako felt he deserved it, he helped Magnus through the rest of the ring-choosing process. He settled on a reasonably-priced sapphire with a silver band molded into the shape of a flowering vine, and he left the store with the box clutched in one hand like he never intended to put it down. Once they climbed into his truck he stopped for a moment and turned to Taako with an uncharacteristically serious look on his face.

“Hey, I really do appreciate you doing this,” he said. “It means a lot.”

Taako shrugged. “Don’t mention it, my dude. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to find out if I’m going to have to move to a new building next month.”

He took out his phone and pulled up Kravitz’s contact information, which he had spent two weeks figuring out how to get. He had been planning to use it for a leisurely flirtation that would eventually end with him figuring out that Taako was the hottest thing since Pompeii. Instead, he pulled up their chat and prepared to send a message that would either get him blocked or into a stellar fictional relationship. 

hey, so whats ur general opinion on schemes, plots, and shenanigans?