#i've needed to do this ever since finding that the dancing girl setting on the mod rod replaces him with a completely different person

[transterry]

A quick drawing of Mal in the DQIX bunny suit because it’s a travesty you never actually get to see him as a cottontail

[kanekisfavoritegf]

PERFECT LOVER: The Life of Nanami Kento the 35 Year Old Virgin

MINORS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT YOU WILL GET BLOCKED

SYNOPSIS: Kento Nanami, a 35-year-old introvert with a tendency to avoid social interactions, has made a conscious decision to steer clear of romantic entanglements. However, everything changes when he meets a new colleague at his birthday party, (Satoru's Idea). From the moment they meet, he is mesmerized, finding himself increasingly unable to resist her magnetic presence. Like taking a bite of forbidden fruit, he becomes ensnared by the allure, delving into a realm of infatuation and finding himself unable to break free. As he delves deeper into this newfound connection, Nanami begins to realize that he craves more than just a fleeting experience and yearns for more than just a fleeting taste of what she embodies.

Table of Contents

WORD COUNT: 1.4K

CHAPTER ONE:

The lights somehow made you glow in Kento Nanmi's eyes. Or maybe it was just you, and your effortless ability to draw everyone's eyes on you. You stood atop a table dancing with Satoru wildly, arms flailing and your body rolling along to the rhythmic pounding of the bass. Pink and blue lights stuck to you and everyone in the nightclub's eyes.

"Stare any harder, Kento; lasers might shoot from your eyes," Suguru smirked as he spoke.

"I don't know what you mean, Suguru," Kento said curtly before taking a swig of his drink.

"Don't worry, I won't tell."

"There is nothing to tell."

"Do you want me to schedule a date with you and Yuki?" 

"Yuki?" Kento coughed a drop of his drink catching in his throat.

"Your eyes have been locked on her since she got on the table with her friend." The blonde man almost laughed in his face from pure shock.

"Who wouldn't stare with her atrocious dancing, almost like a headless chicken. Either way, stop trying to set me up; I've sworn off dating, remember?"

"How could we ever forget." Satoru chimed in, sliding next to Suguru, sweat making his blue work shirt cling to his body tightly, "One bad kiss in University and suddenly, any romantic opportunity was thrown out the window with you."

That was the washed-down version of what happened to Kento, but his work colleagues didn't need to know about how he basically got verbally beaten by a girl cause he wasn't ready to lose his V-Card in a one-night stand.

"Oh, all he needs to do is put himself out there more," Yuki said, forcing herself into this embarrassingly uncomfortable conversation. "You are gonna die a virgin if you keep this up."

"Better to die a virgin than known as a whore."

"Hey! I am not a whore." Satoru exclaimed. 

"Yet somehow you knew Kento was talking about you." Yuki quipped back.

"Where is…" Suguru’s voice trailed off when he realized he had forgotten your name.

“Y/N?” Kento helped Suguru find the name.

"Yes," the long-haired man snapped his fingers, "Where is Y/N? She is going to miss the cake."

"Cake?" Kento grumbled. "You didn't say there was going to be cake, Satoru. You promised there wouldn't be cake."

"Okay, I lied." Satoru tried to conceal a smile

Kento raised to his feet, ready to leave before the birthday parade showed up with cake, probably with something stupid on its icing, and a club screaming happy birthday drunkenly. "But think of it like a welcome cake, too. For Y/N, Yuki wanted her to get to know all of us before her first day in the department on Monday. And you two haven't spoken to her since she first introduced herself." Satoru pointed at Suguru and Kento.

"You are the one who stole her away to do the “Six Devil Shots” and then to the dance floor," Suguru said.

"Or you too could have come and danced with us." You cut in, a cake and candles in hand. "I stole this out of the kitchen."

"You said you were going to the bathroom." Yuki laughed.

"I did, and then I stole the cake."

"Unbelievable," Satoru said. "It was supposed to be a big thing for Nanami." Satoru pouted slightly at the prospects of not being able to embarrass his coworker. 

"Well, Mr. Nanami doesn't seem like the type to enjoy drunk people sing-screaming at him, much less their attention solely on him." You slid your way onto Nanami's side, placing the cake in front of him and the three and five candles in its center. "You have a lighter, right?" You whispered into Kento's ear. He only nodded, letting out a nervous breath before pulling it out and handing it to you.

The group sang Happy Birthday as loudly as they could over the blasting music that played behind them. Giving up after the first verse, Kento blew out his candles.

Thirty-five years old as of today, and he was no better than a teenage boy, semi-hard because you whispered in his ear and stole a cake so he could avoid attention. Sometimes, Nanami felt he was missing out on what Yuki, Satoru, and Suguru had. Some imaginary certificate to adulthood, the type that could only be won through cashing in his V-Card, but then again, would losing it to a stranger make him catch up with others his age? He knew he wasn’t the only virgin at his age, but in situations where a pretty girl flirts with him, and he wants to flirt back, something always manages to catch his tongue. The voice in the back of his head probably reminds him that she wants something from him that Kento knows he won’t be able to give her. So he doesn’t flirt anymore. And as fast as the hard-on came, it was gone, along with any idea of ever entertaining the idea that you would ever want him.

Just because a woman is nice to you doesn't mean you get hard. Kento reprimanded himself in his head.

"Okay, enjoy the cake; I'm heading home now," Kento shouted over the music. "I have to catch the last train."

Yuki and Gojo booed them loudly while Geto threw him a look that screamed, "You are going to leave me with these idiots?"

"So do I." You said, "Mind walking with me?" you said, realizing what time it was.

Kento wanted so badly to say, "Yes, I mind. The whole reason I am taking the train and not a taxi later is to avoid you." but he didn't. He only shook his head and grabbed his coat.

"I'll send you the money for my bill when I get home, Satoru," you said, grabbing your coat. 

"Don't worry about it," Kento said as he placed down a wad of cash before putting a hand over your shoulder, hovering slightly, "You ready?"

You only nodded, ignoring the head in your voice that swooned a little at the simple act of covering your bill. You were tipsy; that's why your delusions ran a little wild.

You made a mental note to never do shots with Satoru again as you slowly made your way through the dancing crowd and out of the nightclub, Kento's hand still on your shoulder.

***

The night air was surprisingly calm for the summer, making you shiver a little as you turned into Kento, keeping his body close to yours under the stars and in a quiet street.

“How was your birthday?” You asked, wanting to break the silence that seemed to fall upon the two of you.

“It was good.” He said curtly, “I don’t really have experience with celebrations to do with me.”

“You don’t celebrate your birthday?” You asked, even though it wasn’t all that surprising.

“What counts as celebrating?” 

“Hmmm, something fun, I guess.” You shrugged.

“Well, it’s my first time going to a nightclub to celebrate.” A small smile decorated his face, “I usually cook a nice dinner for myself or go to a fancy restaurant that I have been saving up on.”

“What about everyone else?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, you are telling me this is the first time Satoru has dragged you out for your birthday?”

“The first time since University, yes.” Kento didn’t elaborate, and you didn’t pry, letting a comfortable silence fall upon you two. As you turned the corner, you guys made your way to the train tracks, empty and void of any life other than the three people on the other side of the tracks. 

Just like before, the train ride was quiet. A few people were on the train, but you managed to snag seats together. You don’t know when it happened, but you let yourself drift to sleep, leaving Kento alone to his thoughts.

Each lurch of the cart when the train stopped and started made you curl into the man even more until your body leaned against him completely. 

It was only when his stop approached that Kento realized he didn’t know where you lived or whether you missed your stop. A slight panic filled him, and he shook a fully asleep you back to consciousness. 

“Y/N. Y/N.” He half whispered into your ear. Only to be met with soft groans. He shook you a little harder this time, and that’s when your eyes fluttered open. Still half asleep, though, you barely comprehend what he was saying, mindlessly grabbing his hand and following him as he stepped off the train.

Alcohol was still dancing in your brain; you nodded your head in agreement and followed him to his apartment…

Preview...

Nanami knew he wouldn’t last long, but as he sunk into you, the idea of even holding in the waves of pleasure that drowned him was impossible.

TAG LIST: @marikuchanxo @sukunasstomachtongue @getosgirlfailure @allysunny @tojicvmslut @typefeisu @aiyaaayei @villsophie @sillysillygoofygoose @jinleft @rivversin @haikioo @destinyblue-jjk @ramonathinks @actuallysaiyan @actuallysaiyan @melisuh123

CHAPTER TWO UPLOADED

[cuteskunkz]

╭──────────.★..─╮

One Night With You

╰─..★.──────────╯

(Mike Schmidt x Reader)

Summary~ Mike is a very touch starved man. He spends all his nights at work and the daytime caring for Abby if not sleeping. He hadn't been with a girl since his junior year, making him feel like a total loser. The amount of times where Mike went back and forth with his inner thoughts, convincing himself that he was the problem was getting pretty intense and it was clear that he just needed a night out to clear his mind and prove those thoughts wrong.

You've been a "dancer" for the past few months at the downtown strip club, just trying to make ends meet. There was a tough competition working against you. You were new to this line of work whereas the other girls had been in the game for a while now, but you kept pushing on desperately. How else were you going to make rent or keep the lights on? The nights were slow and building a consistent flow of clientele proved itself to be a challenge, that is until one night when you meet a new guy outside of the nightclub.

Tags~ Stripper reader, Mike is a SIMP!!!, lowkey enemies to lovers but not really, no smut (YET...)

Note~ This took me much longer than I thought since I've been super burnt out of writing lately, but I hope you guys enjoy! As always if there's anything in particular you would like to see in chapter 2, please lemme know

⊱✿⊰

Mike felt confused with the lack of responsibilities and errands to run on this warm summer night. Abby was off at a sleepover and Steve finally hired a second night shift worker, leaving him all alone with his reoccurring self doubt introspections. Dude gets one night for himself and simply cannot think of a single thing to do to pass the time. He laid there in his bed tossing and turning unable to fall asleep. He jolts up feeling frustrated with himself, "Ughh... just fall asleep already bro..." He shifts around in his bed and grunts, "I can't do this-". He sits up and sulks his way into the living room, plopping down on the couch. Mike pulls out his phone and begins to scroll.

He isn't really the social media type but had made an anonymous instagram account a while ago for mindlessly scrolling. After what seemed like hours, Mike stumbles across a video of you. You were practicing a routine for the club, twirling and moving seductively. Mike felt himself grow larger in his pants and put the phone down in shock. He stares up at the ceiling in disbelief, damn you really got him feeling this type of way this quickly? He looks down at his lap and feels helpless. He wrestles with his feelings for a while and ultimately picks his phone back up to look more into you.

He clicks on your account and "researches" a bit. There's multiple videos of you practicing, photos of your skimpy outfits, and the most captivating selfies he's ever seen. One of your posts has a location tagged in the top corner, "Deja Vu Showgirls". He looks further into the club, finding that it's not too far from the pizzeria. "Fuck it. Why not..." he whispers to himself. Mike ensures he's well groomed for the occasion. if you're there he wants make a good impression. He showers, dresses in the best outfit he can come up with, and slaps some product in his hair. He finally felt content with his appearance and hopped in the car.

You weren't surprised to see another night play out typically. Maybe 2 or 3 cheap lap dances and a couple short sets up on the stage for less than 50 bucks. This clearly isn't working for you, at this point you've spent more on outfits and shoes than you've made while working here. An older gentleman walks up to you reeking of alcohol and cheap cologne, you couldn't help but gulp at the thought of providing your services for him. Yeah you were a stripper but you still had standards that made doing your job successfully hard at times.

"Well aren't you something?" he slurs while damn near tipping over from intoxication. You sigh and snap into your persona. "I'd hope so, this outfit ain't cheap y'know!" you reply in a flirtatious tone. You grab him by the hand and lead him to a booth, preparing for the worst. He starts groping on your sides which makes you shudder. Maybe this place isn't for you after all. "H-hands off baby.... Use your eyes and focus on me" you redirect with confidence. Times like these made you wish someone could just scoop you off your feet and save you.

He drives to the location with his heart pounding out of his chest. He'd never been to strip club before so Mike felt nervous even making his way closer to where you have the slightest chance of being at. He pulled into the parking lot and shut his car off abruptly, taking deep breaths to calm his nerves. "What if she isn't here? I don't even know the girl why am I acting so fuckin' weird about this.... I really need to get out of the house more" he thinks to himself while gripping onto the steering wheel. After a few mental pep talks to himself, he finally musters up the courage to get out and make his way in.

Just as he goes to push the door to the club open, you storm out with eyes welling with tears. Mike stumbles back a bit not wanting to startle you. You're holding your pricey Pleaser heels in hand, walking barefoot and trying your best to keep it together. All you want is to curl up into a ball and quit at life. You thought that creepy dude would cheap out on a dance, not grope and hurl insulting names at you for rejecting his advances! You look up from the ground and lock eyes with a man you've never seen before. He's cute... too cute to be wasting his time at some dingy place like this.

"Can I help you?" you snap at him with a shaky voice. It was hard not to notice the concerned look on his face. "No I'm-" he stutters before you promptly cut him off. "Leave me the fuck alone then." His face goes pale hearing you say this, he didn't even get a chance to meet you yet and he feels as if he already blew it. You pace towards your car and pop the trunk, filling it with the all the contents of your locker. You pick a T-shirt out of your duffle bag and drape it over your revealing outfit. His presence is burning a hole into your back so you swiftly turn around to meet his gaze.

He walks over slow and bashfully. There's a pink tint to his cheeks and he can't keep his hands still out of anxiousness. "Dude are you good?" you ask. He looks as if he's going to break a sweat, "Yeah... I'm good. Are you though? You looked pretty shaken up back there." You assumed he was just another guy looking to get lucky with a dancer after a shift change. "Look, if you want to get some action, walk your ass into the club. I'm not who you're looking for" you reply. His stomach drops hearing your voice. It was one thing to see you for the first time, but to hear your voice even if it be out of anger made Mikes head spin. He didn't want to sound like a complete creep stalking you out to your job for a closer look but you were exactly who he wanted.

"That's not why I'm here. Fuck- look... To be totally honest, I'm not a strip club type of dude. I just- I saw a video of you on instagram and I was- y'know... impressed by your talent and beauty." Typical response coming from a man trying to bring a stripper home for the night you think to yourself. "I'm not shocked by your reaction. You realize that's what I hear like- 10 times a night, right?" you say with a sarcastic tone. He seemed a bit more genuine with his words than the others but men will do and say anything when they're in need of a quick fuck. "Not that type of girl sir. Try one of those cheap hookers down the road" you point down the street and close the trunk.

"Please... I know how this sounds, believe me I know how dudes are but-" He sighs and continues, "But I don't have a lot of experience with girls so- I thought coming here... to meet someone new would help" he says looking very serious, almost to the point of desperation. If he weren't so damn handsome you'd turn him down in a heartbeat but something in you is screaming to give him a chance. He seems to be telling the truth and damn is he starting to fluster you with the whole innocent act. "Fine. I'll give you my number but don't you dare think about blowing my phone up." You scribble your phone number into his palm with a pen from your bag and blow him a kiss while getting in your car to drive away.

Mike smirks and waves at you, watching you drive off into the distance. "That was easier than I expected...huh..." he whispers. He gets back into his car and texts you, already so eager to see you again. The message reads:

Hey it's Mike, the guy from earlier. You doing anything tonight? I could take us out to a bar or something? :)

His cheeks start to blush again from imagining you two hanging out. He desperately craves a deeper connection with you but doesn't want to come off as too interested off the bat, it could scare you off for all he knows! His phone dings and he reads it:

Shitttt I'm free as long as you're gonna be on your very best behavior!!

⊱✿⊰

*Read part 2 and part 3 here!*

It might take me a bit to get part two posted, but I'll try to give you guys as many updates as possible!!! Keep in mind I am a new writer. This is my third fic put out so far :))

[foreverrandomwritings]

Guys My Age

Summary: Guys your age just can't seem to treat you right. What's going to happen when you set your eyes on a tall mustached aviator? This is based on the song Guys My Age by Hey Violet.

Pairings: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Afab!Reader (No use of Y/N)

Warnings:Plot and then filfth. MINORS DNI 18+. Mentions of alcohol, drugs, sex, strip clubs, age gap like 15ish years, rowdy men and catcalling. If I missed any please inform me.

Word count: 4362(pretty sure this is the longest thing I have ever written)

Masterlist

I haven't seen my ex since we broke up

Probably 'cause he didn't wanna grow up

Now I'm out and wearing something low-cut

'Bout to get attention from a grown up

It had been months since you and your ex had broken up. His lack of maturity made the relationship unbearable. He claimed to be comfortable with your job as a club owner and exotic dancer when the two of you first started dating. But as time went by you could clearly tell he despised what you did. It had been about 6 months since you had danced, deciding to stay behind the bar for the most part serving the patrons. The occasional crowd work thrown in here and there. Tonight you adorned one of your favorite lingerie pieces: a pale yellow lacy corset bra with matching high waisted bottoms and heels in the same pale yellow were on your feet.

You were desperate to get attention from someone older and wiser,  that actually knew what they were doing. So when you saw a group of guys walk into the club that you instantly recognized as aviators from the way they carried themselves you figured you’d pick one off from the group. It didn’t take you long to find your target. A tall mustached brunette stood at the back of the crowd, a floral Hawaiian shirt thrown over a white t-shirt. 

You watched from behind the bar as they found a table to sit at that wasn’t far from the stage but not too close as to miss the rowdier groups. As one of your regulars came up to the bar you turned away from where the group was to grab his drink. You handed him his drink and got a thank you in response. Turning back around you noticed one of the aviators propped up against the bar with a cocky smile on his face. 

“What can I get for you boys?” You asked him with a polite smile on your face glancing over his shoulder at the rest of his group. 

“I’m gonna get two pitchers of blue moon and a couple bottles of rootbeer please.” he answered you while sliding his card across the bar top to you giving you a wink you were sure had other girls falling on their knees for him “I’m going to open a tab while I’m at it as well dollface.”  

“Sure thing. I’ll bring them over to your table as soon as I have them for you.” you said as you took his card putting it next to the register. He tapped the bar twice with his right hand before turning and walking back to his table. You made quick work of gathering the drinks before putting them on a tray with the cups and carefully weaving through the slowly growing crowd. Once you reached the table you put the tray in the middle. 

“If you aviators need anything else let me know.” You said as you looked around the table your eyes finally catching on the tall brunette you saw earlier. You sent him a wink before turning back around making sure to sway your hips a bit more than usual. 

'Cause you hold me like a woman

In a way I've never felt before

And it makes me wanna hold on

And it makes me wanna be all yours

It had been almost an hour since you delivered their drinks. The same blonde as before had been up again for another pitcher. You had made eye contact with the handsome stranger numerous times within that hour. You were growing very antsy behind the bar wanting nothing more than to have his full attention on you. Finally you decided enough was enough and called for one of the other girls to come and stand behind the bar in your place. 

His eyes didn’t drag over your body as so many others did as you neared him. He kept his eyes on your face, a sly smirk making its way onto his face. You returned the smirk, a spark of mischief dancing in your eyes. Luckily his chair was angled away from the table so it gave you a perfect opportunity to get your plan rolling. His eyebrow quirked up as you came to stand between his legs. You bit your lower lip between your teeth as you lowered yourself onto his lap. You leaned your back against the table, crossing your legs and draping your left arm around his shoulder. 

You heard a cough somewhere behind you but paid it no mind as you moved your head next to his. “Hiya handsome.” you purred into his ear before pulling back to look at his face. He had a slight blush blooming over his cheeks and his eyes had widened a bit in surprise “What’ca fellas up to tonight?” You asked him bringing your right hand up to play with the chain around his neck. 

“We’re out celebrating a successful run at life.” Someone said from behind you while the man you were perched on looked down at your hand seemingly speechless. As you leaned back you felt his arm come up to buffer between your back and the table. His hand splayed across your side. A chill worked through you as his thumb lightly stroked the lace of your bra.  

You’d rarely had someone in here touch you so respectfully. It was normally rough grabby hands trying to get to any part of you they could. Some hands made you feel a little sticky and gross by the time they were off you. But his hold on you made you feel respected. You couldn’t help but think about what it would feel like to have his hands all over you. Claiming you as his with every brush across your skin. You knew just by looking at him that he’d ruin you for every other man. 

Guys my age don't know how to treat me

Don't know how to treat me

Don't know how to treat me

Guys my age don't know how to touch me

Don't know how to love me good

You continued to sit upon his lap as he asked you questions about yourself. He started with a simple question asking you what your name was. You gave him your stage name rather than your actual name. No matter how attractive he was, you still had to be cautious. Then you asked his name in return.

“Well Honeysuckle since we're going with callsigns my names Rooster.” He told with a playful smirk on his face. That had you letting out a small giggle. Then he was asking you some simple things like your favorite color and how long you had been working at the Garden of Eden. He was pleasantly surprised when you told him you owned it. 

“My best friend Lilac and I have worked here since we were 18 and in business school. Once me and her turned 21 the old owners talked about selling and we decided to go in on it together. So we’ve owned it for 3 years now.” His smile faltered a little at that, the hand that found its way to your knee fell back to his side. He cleared his throat a little before speaking. 

“So you’re 24 then?” he asked you barely above a whisper, if the music wasn’t so quiet you wouldn’t have heard him. A sheepish smile adorned your face, a light blush working up your neck to your cheeks. 

“Is that an issue?” You asked him quietly, your confidence slowly diminishing. 

“I’m just slightly older than you, honey that's all.” His mustache twitched as a comforting smile formed. 

“That’s alright Roo, guys my age don't know how to treat me. They don’t know how to touch me. They don't know how to love me good.” You whispered into his ear, nipping it slightly as you pulled away. You don’t know if he shuddered at the nickname, your words or your actions but you smiled at him all the same. Your eyelashes fluttered a few times as you stared into his eyes. 

Guys my age don't know how to keep me

Don't know how to keep me

Don't know how to keep me

Guys my age don't know how to touch me

Don't know how to love me good

“Would you mind walking me home? I don’t live too far but I'm awfully afraid of wandering around by myself.” A lustful look worked its way into his eyes as you slightly adjusted yourself in his lap. You could feel the hardness of his cock straining against his jeans as you moved. You already knew if you slipped your hand between your legs you’d find a wet patch. 

“Do you have a shift to finish honey?” He asked you breathlessly. 

“I don’t think they’ll mind you keeping me from them for a night.” Though really he’d been keeping you all night anyways. Your eyes nor your thoughts had wandered from the man underneath you since you sat down. You’d never been so inraptured by a guy before. There was just something about Rooster that had your mind fuzzy. It was your turn to shudder this time as his fingers on your back slowly dragged down your spine. 

All he ever wanted was to go down

What we supposed to do with all his friends around? Yeah

Smoking weed, he'd never wanna leave the house

Got an empty cushion on that sofa now

Told him, "Good luck with the next one."

Maybe she'll be just as immature

Gotta thank him, he's the reason

That I'll find out what I'm looking for

Rooster moved you so you were standing up between his legs. He turned to the table and told his friends that he was gonna head out and he’d find his own way back home. After grabbing your coat you swapped out your heels for a pair of vans. You told lilac you were heading out. Then found yourself walking hand in hand down the street with rooster towards your apartment. Your thoughts briefly flashed to your ex. 

He’d never been interested in spending time at your place or with your friends. It was rare that you guys were intimate with each other. His friends made it hard for anything to happen. He’d always wanted to spend time getting high with them while watching trashy tv shows. It was a relief for you to finally get off of that sofa. 

You’d wished him luck when you broke things off. The only way he’d be happy was with someone as childish as he was. At the moment you thought about sending him a thank you note. If he hadn’t been so immature you’d never have found what you were looking for. Not a boy like your ex but a man like rooster. 

Guys my age don't know how to treat me

Don't know how to treat me

Don't know how to treat me

Guys my age don't know how to touch me

Don't know how to love me good

Your mind cleared up from your thoughts as rooster tucked you into his side. You hadn’t noticed the group of guys standing near one of the bars until then. He glared at the guys over your head as you walked by. They were letting out low whistles and catcalls. Rooster moved his hand down to the small of your back. You followed the silent direction quickly, walking a little faster trying not to trip. 

The feeling of his hand on your back thumb stroking lightly like it did in the club had warmth blooming between your legs. You had decided to keep on the lingerie set since you were heading straight home and could change there. Unless the night went where you hoped it was. The thought of the aviator at your side having his hands all over you had your head slightly spinning. Luckily your apartment building came into sight as your legs wobbled a little. 

Guys my age don't know how to keep me

Don't know how to keep me

Don't know how to keep me

Guys my age don't know how to touch me

Don't know how to love me good

He let you lead him inside as he held the door of the apartment building open. You grabbed his hand as you passed him, dragging him along behind you. He followed you with a grin on his face and lust in his eyes. His thumb smoothed over the back of your hand as you neared your door. Your other hand dipped into your pocket and fished for your keys. You paused before inserting the key into the lock. You turned to him suddenly. 

“You’re not allergic to cats are you?” you asked him curiously. 

“I am not honey, I love cats actually.” He gave you a beaming smile. You nodded your head and unlocked your door. You dropped your keys into the bowl next to your front door before toeing your shoes off. “Would you like a glass of water or anything?” You asked him as you shrugged your jacket off hanging it on the rack by the front door. He shook his head as he toed his shoes off next to yours. His eyes found their way back up to your face. You moved to him then in a few quick steps until you were almost nose to chest. 

“Kiss me?” you asked him in a hushed tone. The only answer he gave you was his lips crashing against yours. 

So I'm never going back

No, I'm never going back

His mustache tickled your face as he kissed you slowly. One of his hands came up to cup your face as one of yours came up to his chest. As the kiss deepened you took to working his shirt off his body. The hawaiian shirt fell to the floor at your feet before you were pulling back to work your hands under his t-shirt. He moved a hand behind his head before pulling the shirt off and throwing it somewhere in the apartment. You moaned as his lips came back to yours. 

You fumbled with the button of his jeans trying to get them off as well. He stilled your hands once you got the button undone. Pulling back you cocked your head to the side. He must of seen the question in your eyes because he was cupping your face in his hands. “How about you show me to your bed honey.” he asked you. You nodded enthusiastically before turning and walking towards your bedroom swaying your hips much like you did in the club. 

He followed you quickly, his hands reaching for your waist as you entered your room turning on the lights. He moved your hair off your neck to make room for his lips. He worked from below your ear down to your shoulder. Once he reached the strap of your bra he slipped it off your shoulder. Then he was moving his fingers up your back to the clip of your bra. 

“This okay honey?” he rasped out. 

“More than okay Roos.” You answered him. He made quick work of removing your bra letting it fall to the floor. He moved his hands down your chest which had your back slamming into him as the breath was taken from your lungs. His fingers worked your nipple until they were pebbled between them. He groaned as you ground your ass into the front of his jeans. 

“I know honey we’ll get there. Just gotta be patient. Can you do that for me?” You moaned out his name at his words furiously nodding your head. “I’m gonna take good care of you honey.” he said as one of his hands moved into your underwear. A finger dipping between your folds. Your legs gave out at the feeling of one of his rough fingers swirling around your clit. He held you up with an arm wrapped around your middle. There was no going back now. He already had you putty in his hands.

Guys my age don't know how to treat me

Don't know how to please me

Don't know how to read me

Guys my age don't know how to touch me

Don't know how to love me good

“You can tell me to stop anytime honey. Just gotta say so.” he said as his finger continued to work your clit he moved one down to your entrance. He slipped the finger inside you causing you to clench your thighs together. He groaned at how tight you felt around his finger. He slowly curled the finger inside you working you open to fit another one of his long digits inside you. Once he deemed you ready he slipped one more in. 

You let out a whimper as he started sucking marks into your neck. He worked at a gentle pace as he sucked the mark then dragged his tongue over the spot soothing it instantly. Your eyes rolled back as he slipped a third finger into your cunt. “You’re doing so good for me.” he whispered into your ear as he worked his fingers into you at a quicker pace. Finding that spot inside you that had your climax quickly approaching. 

“I-i-i’m so cl-close.” You stuttered out your head lullying to the side. He moved the hand up that was wrapped around your middle and rolled your nipple between his fingers again. That was your undoing; you let out a whimper that was utterly pathetic but you had no mind to care as your climax slammed through you. 

Once your mind cleared up slightly he pulled his fingers from your underwear. You watched through lidded eyes as he slipped his fingers between his lips. He let out a choked groan at the sweetness that met his tongue. “I think I know why you’re called honeysuckle now. You’re as sweet as everyone I’ve tried.” 

Guys my age don't know how to tease me

Don't know how to leave me

Don't know how to need me

Guys my age don't know how to touch me

Don't know how to love me good

He dipped down bumping the back of your knees softly causing you to fall into his arms. He carried you bridal style over to your bed. Laying you down he stood up working to take his pants off. He was left in just his underwear as he moved onto the bed bracing his arms on either side of your head holding himself up. You looked up at him through lust hazed eyes giving him a lazy smile. Your hand worked it’s way up into his hair pulling his lips down to yours. One of your hands moved down to his boxers slipping underneath to grab at his cock. 

He moaned as you gripped him, your thumb running along the tip spreading the precum that had leaked out. You used the opportunity to slip your tongue inside his mouth, tasting some of yourself on him. You wrapped your hand around him slowly working up and down. Your thumb occasionally grazing his tip. 

“I won’t last much longer if you keep that up honey.” he told you, pulling back slightly to rest his head against yours. 

“I want you inside me.” Is all you managed in response, hips grinding up to meet his. He nodded his head, his mustache tickling your forehead in the process. He moved down your body as your hand slipped from his underwear. His fingers moved into the sides of yours. You lifted your hips allowing him to slip them off your legs. Once he got to your feet he pulled them all the way off then worked his own down his legs. You gulped as you took him in. He was bigger than any other guy you'd been with and you worried for a second how he would fit. 

He seemed to notice your worry as he stalked back up the bed to hover over you again. One of his hands resting between your legs again. He worked his fingers back between your folds but this time he ghosted over your clit. You tried to close your legs desperate for some relief but he stopped you moving one of his legs between yours. He brought it up further until it was resting where you wanted him at most. You ground down along his thigh, your slick coating his skin.  

He let you do as you please for a moment, loving the way you whimpered and shuddered under him. Shaking slightly as another orgasm slowly worked your way. He ducked down so his face was at your chest and took one of your nipples between his lips. Sucking lightly at the bud his tongue swirling around it. Just like that your second orgasm came crashing through you like a tidal wave. Your moan getting stuck in your throat. 

“Good girl honey. Think you can give me another one?” he asked as he moved to line himself up with your entrance. 

“Please, please, please.” You begged him, hands scratching at his back, legs coming to wrap around him pulling him closer to you. 

“Take a deep breath for me.” He whispered to you, so you followed his instruction. Then he was fully sheathed inside you causing the both of you to moan loudly. Your head rolling to the side as his fell to your neck breathing you in. 

“You can move.” you told him after a moment of enjoying the stretch he gave you. He nodded against you. He moved his hips back before slowly moving back in. His mouth fell open, his tongue coming to lick a stripe up your neck before he was connecting your lips to his. One of his hands intertwined with yours on the mattress next to your head. His other hand was holding your hip to keep him stable. Your hand that wasn’t in his was tangled in his hair. 

“Faster.” you whispered out into the calm of your room. He obliged the request pulling out before slapping his hips back into yours. He set a faster pace, the both of you moaning and whimpering. His breath fanned along your neck as he shuddered above you. You could tell he was close with the way his hips started to stutter. Much to your surprise he moved a finger between your bodies and started to circle your clit. The pace of his finger matching the pace of his thrusts. 

You let out a loud whine as you clenched around him, your third orgasm wrecking its way through your body. He moaned and lightly bit down on you where your neck and shoulder met. His hips jerked erratically before he was spilling into you. He collapsed onto you but somehow kept his full body weight from crushing you. You both lay there your fingers scratching at his scalp as you both calmed down. 

So I'm never going back

Don't know, don't know, don't know

No, I'm never going back

Don't know how to touch me

Don't know how to love me good

So I'm never going back

No, I'm never going back

“Where’s your bathroom at?” He groaned as he slipped out of you. You lazily pointed to the door attached to your room. You sat staring at your ceiling thoughts racing through your head as he slipped from the bed. There was no way you could ever be with another guy after him. 

You were starting to drift off as you felt a hand on your leg. Blinking open your eyes you saw him grinning at you and noticed he had slipped his boxers back on. You also noticed he had a washcloth in his large hands and slowly whined as he worked it between your legs slowly and gently cleaning up your aching cunt. 

“There ya go honey.” he said as he withdrew his hand. He stood back up and walked over to your hamper, throwing the rag away. He then held a bottle of water out to you that you hadn’t even seen him get. Slowly you sat up leaning against the pillows on your headboard taking the water from him. “We’ll get you to the bathroom when you’re ready.” he said softly, watching you drink the water. 

“I’m ready now.” you said as you finished the water. He helped you stand up which you were thankful for as your legs wobbled beneath you. He walked you to the bathroom letting you have some privacy as you went to the bathroom and washed your hands. When you made your way back out of the bathroom he had his shirt laid out on the bed and your cat was laying at his feet. You put his shirt on silently. 

“Are you gonna stay the night?” you asked him hesitantly. Not sure if he was planning to stay for a little while longer before leaving or if he was in fact going to stay the night.

“I was hoping to if that's okay with you?” He said with a dopey grin. Sliding to the other side of the room you flipped off the lights. Then you made your way back to your bed slipping in beside him. He reached out for you in the darkness of the room until he found your hand. He gently pulled you to him. You laid there for a moment, your head laying on his chest. His hand was moving through your hair slowly soothing you into slumber.

Before you could drift off he spoke up. “Are you by any chance on the pill?” he asked to which you giggled. 

“I have the IUD.” You answered him and he let out a relieved sigh. 

“My names Bradley by the way.” you once again giggled and told him your name. 

“Goodnight Bradley.” You whispered to him. 

“Goodnight honey.” He replied, mustache tickling your forehead as he gave it a gentle kiss. Your last thought before you slipped into sleep was that there was no way you were going back to guys your age.

A/N: This is my first time ever writing Rooster so forgive me if this was terrible. Please be careful about bringing home strangers. Always have the condom talk before sex. Aftercare is a must and going to the bathroom is the safest thing you can do to avoid any infections!

Tags(open): @wkndwlff and @sylviebell

[crazyk-imagine]

Life Away from Home

Pairing: Dalton Lamber x Best friend!reader

Characters: Dalton Lamber, Best Friend!reader, Chris Winslow, Josh Lambert, Renai Lambert

Warnings: Fluff, angst due to demons, add on to the movie, reader and Dalton being cute, I've literally only seen this movie once and it's consumed me too much and I had to write this, the day I watched it, this idea came to mind, the possessed Dalton scene is what got me hooked on writing this, Josh and Renai are trying to make it work maybe not in a romantic way or maybe they are

Word Count: 4,294

A/N: Holy shit, I was not expecting this to be over 4,000 words.

I'm getting ready for spooky season

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

"Jesus, Dalton. When did you get so much shit?" You ask, setting down another box beside the one his dad set down on his bed.

"When did you complain so much?"

You narrow your eyes to him before your lips stretch into a smile as he does the same. "Touche."

Josh glances between the two of you, seeing him and Renai when they first met.

"I'm gonna leave you two alone before our first week of hell starts."

Dalton tries to stop you and fails.

You're barely out of the room for five minutes when you get a phone call from him. "What happened?"

"The usual."

A heavy sigh slips past your lips, "Dally."

He shakes his head. “Can you just- can you come back up here?”

“I’m on my way, loser.”

“That was uncalled for.”

“But it got you to crack a smile.” He denies it with the widest smile on his face before hanging up.

“Is that you’re girlfriend?” He turns to face his soon to be ex-roommate, Chris. “No.”

She shrugs. “Maybe this is the year you do something about your crush.”

-

It was an okay start to this new part of your guy's life. Meeting Chris made things more fun, although Dalton would definitely disagree.

Ever since the school year started (two days ago) and Chris told you her schedule, you two hang out in her dorm for a bit while you wait for Dalton to finish up with his art class.

She likes you and definitely understands why he likes you so much.

Her little dance stops when knocking from the other side interrupts her and startles you.

Ever since you got here, things have been getting weird for Dalton which, as much as you don’t want to admit it, it scares you.

She opens the door, peeking through the crack to find the one person that makes your eyes shine. She smiles at you with the mouthpiece to her most prized possession (and the name is something you will never remember). "See? It's just your Dally man."

You narrow your eyes to her. "Shut up."

He glances between the two of you before taking a seat near you.

"Are you ready for my latest rendition of "don't go breaking my heart" with my trusty little sidekick?"

You roll your eyes and lean closer to him, "say no."

He shakes his head.

You smile and lean closer to him, bringing him some comfort after the night he's had. You know he won’t talk about it; you asked him after the first night but knowing he’s just going to keep it to himself until he can’t any longer, the least you can do is make him smile… and hold him.

-

Everything started spiraling worse after going to that stupid frat party.

You knew he didn’t want to go to it and that’s why you tried to get Chris to change her mind but there’s no stopping that girl when she’s on a mission.

“What if we just-”

She shakes her head, “no.”

You fall back onto Dalton’s bed, turning to face him as he works at his desk. “I tried. I’m sorry.” You don’t think he heard you, but you return your attention to Chris as babbles on about how the party is just what we need.

-

And it only spiraled into something worse and worse from there.

He hasn’t stopped working on that painting. Every time he returns to his room, there he is in that chair, paintbrush in hand.

“Dalton?” You call out to him.

His body is slumped, you don’t know how long it was that he stopped working on his art, but it couldn’t have been more than five minutes ago.

“Dally?” You push yourself off the bed and are about to place a hand on his shoulder, thinking if you gently shake him, it’ll wake him but a voice in the back of your head tells you not to. You pace back and forth behind him, “Okay, Dalton. One this is not funny. And two, I need you to wake up.”  

You lift your hand up, biting the skin on the sides of your thumbs (something you haven’t done since you were a kid).

It’s too late for you to call Chris, it’s been dark for hours, but you can’t sleep knowing Dalton can’t sleep because the guilt of knowing you can sleep and he can’t, well, it'll make you feel like an asshole. And if he can’t sleep, then you shouldn’t.

But he tells you to and not to worry about him, which makes it really hard because how can you not worry about him.

You open your eyes and are startled as the door to his dorm shuts. “Dalton?”

He pushes himself out of the chair, shaking you. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay? What the hell happened to you? You freaked me out. You were asleep one second and then-”

“I was up in Chris’ dorm.”

You blink once. “Huh?”

“I was- I just- I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I do. You’re on some sort of drug right now and you need to tell me where your stash is so I can either join you or flush them.”

“What?” He furrows his brows, “I’m not on- I don’t even know what’s going on. I just- all I know is that-“

A knock on the door causes you to leap into his arms.

You two take a step towards the door with his arm around your waist, keeping you close to him.

“I just woke up because of this,” Chris lifts up her favorite annoying thing.

You start to tear up but don’t know why. “I- oh my god.” You wipe your cheeks as the two talk.

They glance over at you, wondering if you were paying attention. They’re both alarmed at the sight of you crying.

You wave them off. “I’m fine.”

That was just the beginning of something bad coming your way.

-

You and Chris text each other periodically throughout the next few days, mainly her checking on you and you asking her what she’d found out regarding Dalton’s “condition”.

From her end, he needs sleep to which you completely agree with, but you also need to take care of yourself.

She doesn’t want anything to happen to you, you’re good for him and an amazing friend which is why it was exceedingly scary with you lying in front of her, looking as though you were dead.

She still doesn’t even know what happened even though she knows it has something to do with the spiritual world Dalton’s got himself mixed up in.

Before returning to his body, he sees the demon that's been haunting him for a little less than half his life (even if he doesn’t remember it now) hovering over your body.

You don’t know what happened during that time but you the only colors that come to mind whenever you think of it are red and black (something you’ve never told Dalton).

You moved into his dorm basically permanent after that night, followed by almost hourly texts from a certain upstairs dorm neighbor.

-

It’s been getting harder and harder to get Dalton to sleep when you can’t even do it yourself.

He sits at his desk and continues working on the painting that seems to be haunting him, something that makes you wish you could you more helpful to him but are unable to.

With everything that’s going on your kind of happy about the few classes you chose to take this year because napping throughout the day isn’t the most ideal thing for a normal college student, but it’s the only way you can keep up with Dalton. “You tired yet?”

“You asked me five minutes ago,” he mumbles, not fully taking his eyes off the painting.

“Fine. New question, have you talked to your mom or dad yet?”

“Why would I talk to them?”

“Uh, I don’t know because you’re going through astral projection moments without any proper or well-known guidance. Oh, and also your friend almost died because of some black and red thing.”

He pauses, his hand stills before he hurriedly tosses the paint brush onto the desk. “You saw it?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” you sigh.

“You are.”

“Maybe you’re just annoying.”

“I’m annoyed with a purpose. What- I mean, did you-”

“No, I just,” you throw the hood of his hoodie over your head.

“I think… maybe it’s from when you were in your coma.”

“Did you remember something?” He leans in closer.

“I just,” you glance up at him. “I feel like you should talk to your mom.”

He takes a deep breath. “No and you’re not going to win so just stop and leave it alone.”

Worst thing you could have ever done, listen to him.

You didn’t want to; you know, know you should have called her and asked her what she knows about this, but he kept assuring you that he’s got this and would ask his brother for information and that could only do so much.

Chris texted you earlier, asking if you could help her with one of her classes because you both have the same teacher, but you have the morning class, and she has the afternoon.

You decided that if he didn’t want help, he wasn’t going to get it.

The- “whole tough love routine, really?”

You furrow your brows, feeling offended and self conscious. “What?”

“Don’t what me. When has that routine ever helped someone?” She shrugs, “no, seriously. Tell me.”

You mimic her and return back to helping her study with the midterm getting closer and closer (Chris’ words, not yours).

“She finally gets it,” you say, happy to know you could help her where you could.

“Do you think he’s okay?”

She nods, stuffing her notebook back into her bag. “Yeah, why wouldn’t he?”

You bit the skin on the sides of your thumb, “I have a bad feeling.”

She glances back at you. “How bad?”

“I’m slowly getting more nauseous the longer I sit here.”

“Are you sure? I mean, what if you just-”

“Chris.”

She sighs, “fine. I’ll go check on your boyfriend and when I come back, telling you he’s doing just fine.”

The door slams open as she searches for something, mumbling to herself. After a few minutes, she’s found what she was looking for and turns around. She stares at you, her arms full of various lights in different shapes and sizes. "Are you coming with me or not?"

You grimace. This is too much for either of you to handle on your own. "Chris,” you hold her arm in place, “I have a bad feeling about this."

She nods; she gets it, but she also knows neither of you can leave him alone. "So do I but we can't leave him alone."

You hesitate.

“You can’t leave him alone.”

You nod, gulping down the saliva that built up in your mouth. "Okay."

You two practically run to Dalton's room.

You stand in the doorway and know something's not right but follow Chris, not feeling comfortable leaving her alone in here. You two sit on his bed, you work on untangling the lights while she tries to get them on.

She plugs it in once, you’re not as nauseous but are feeling more fear.

Another light is plugged in, and you pull your feet up from the floor. A third one and it’s suddenly colder?

"I'm not afraid of the dark anymore."

You furrow your brows, pausing your movements. "What?" A chill runs down your spine. "Chris, are you done yet?" You gulp and hurry to help Chris, knowing the dark is a bad place to be in, especially now.

She runs around the room, putting the lights in place leaving you to plug them in, wanting to light up the room. Her feet padding across the floor worry you. "Almost." She shouts, "yes!" Her side is lit.

You barely glance over at him and know what's wrong, it makes you even more nauseous; you can almost feel the bile creeping up your throat.

It feels like it’s here, the pressure tightens on your throat.

"Dalton?" She calls out for him, watching his body move as he stands in the corner.

"Chris, don't get near him." You pull her back when his head turns towards you. "It's here." You begin blinking away the tears that blur your vision.

"No," she refuses to believe it. "Dalton? What's going on there? This isn't normal. It's really weird seeing you in the dark."

You want to cry. "Stop talking."

It flings her to the side.

"Oh god," you whimper.

It turns its attention onto you as his body lets out a low growl.

"Chris, run."

She says the same to you when she sees how close Dalton's body has gotten to you.

You turn back to him and focus on his hands wrapping a piece of rope around his hands. "Where did that come from?" Tonight’s the night you're going to die. You shake your head and run towards the door. You shake to doorknob as tears fall down your cheeks. "Let me out. Let me out."

He gains control, the rope falls from his hands as he calls out for you.

You turn around and see the real him before he loses control.

You and Chris catch him before he can fall.

“You hold him and anchor him while I work on the lights.”

You can’t object as she’s already run off.

She screams as a face appears in front of her, emerging out from the depths of the darkness under the bed.

You pull her back. “Get behind me.”

She doesn’t have enough time to argue and does as she’s told.

You're stuck between the two, holding Dalton and keeping him close to you as she huddles further into you, all while fighting the spirits crawling on top of him and you.

He opens his eyes and wakes from his internal battle, the light squeeze to your hand lets you know he's here. He's with you as he forces the spirits to disappear.

You help him up, knowing he's trying to move.

Dalton starts painting with as much paint as he can with his one paintbrush.

The canvas is black.

"Is it over?" She dares to ask.

You tear up, covering your mouth to hide the sobs that want to escape you.

He turns around, barely giving himself a second to take in everything that's happened as he pulls you closer to him.

“I need to call my mom,” he grabs the phone and immediately dials his mom.

“Is everyone okay?” Chris asks, knowing you can’t mutter a word right now and how close you are because you two pretty much call the Lambert's your family.

“Yeah, he’s- he’s okay. He’s back.”

“He wasn’t before?”

You lift your head off him. “He stayed behind?”

He nods. “But he’s back now and it’s gone.”

You gulp, staring into his eyes; silently thanking all and any god that they’re not yellow.

You didn’t realize you’re crying until he wipes your cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head and sniffle; he pulls you closer to hug you; needing to feel your comforting warmth… plus Chris. “Please tell me it’s over.”

“It’s done,” Dalton informs the two of you with a stern voice.

"You’re never going to do that again. I can't lose you."

He nuzzles his nose into your head, breathing in your scent.

“I think it’s time we go home for our early semester break.”

“I,” he hesitates, “I think that’s a good idea.”

-

After saying bye to Chris and promising to text when you two actually leave campus and when we make it to the Lambert household, you finally make it to his dad’s car.

Josh smiles at the sight of you two. “Hey.”

Dalton glances away, finding making eye contact with the man to be too much. “Hey.”

His dad turns to you, “hey.”

“Hi,” you give him a small smile. “Let’s put the stuff in the car and get this long ass drive over with?”

That earns a chuckle and breaks the silence between the two.

You’re about to walk towards the back of the car when he stops in front of you. “What?”

“I can put your stuff in the back.”

You huff, “Dalton. No, just let-”

“Me put it away, you get settled into the car. I’ll be there in a second.”

You roll your eyes, “fine. I’ll just get started on the second season of-”

“Don’t you dare.”

You open the car door with a small smile on your face.

-

Josh turns to his son, not yet opening the trunk so you can’t hear their conversation (he hopes). “So?”

“What?”

His dad smiles and uses his head to gesture in your general direction. “Have you asked her?”

The look on his son’s face tells him all that he needs to know (and embarrass him). “Are you two together? Going steady? Netflix and chilling as you young kids call it.” He lightly pats the side of his arm, “come on, you can tell me… so I can tell your mother.”

The young man avoids all eye contact and stares at the ground, the warmth in his cheeks is not something he wanted to experience now, before they even leave campus. “No, I- with everything that happened, I didn’t want it to seem like I’m just asking her out to do it. You know, I- I want it to mean something.”

The corner of Josh’s mouth twitches, reminding him of his young self. “I know exactly what you mean and that’s why I know if you do it, she won’t think of it that way.”

Dalton slowly lifts his head. “How do you know that?”

“She’s been by your side ever since the first time. No, even longer than that but especially during these times and if you don’t believe me then, you don’t know why you invited her to come with you.”

“What?”

“Put the bags in the trunk,” Josh tells him as he opens it. He sees the way his son stares at you, he did the same thing with his ex-wife. He just wishes he was as strong as the two of you and knows if he was, then maybe he and Renai would still be together.

He takes a deep breath. ‘This is what Dr. Rofuss was talking about.’ “You can sit in the back if you want, I won’t be offended.”

“She’ll make me sit there if I don’t on my own.”

His dad chuckles as he closes the trunk. “Alright then, make your choice, stud.”

“Stud?” He mutters as he walks around the car.

You shake your head and point to the front seat.

Josh silently laughs to himself when he watches the two of you two. “Show tunes?”

You give the older man a gentle smile. “Sure.”

-

Renai walks out and hugs her baby boy- he groans, “mom.”

“You’ll always be my baby no matter what age you are.”

You cover your mouth to hide your amusement.

Josh leans down and whispers, “you’re next.”

You quickly recover and shake your head. “No.”

He starts taking your guys bags into the house.

She stares at him for a few seconds before letting him go, turning to face you. She pulls you in for a hug. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

She doesn’t answer you.

-

You walk into the house, waiting to find one or both of his siblings but find neither. “Is it just us plus your parents right now?”

He shrugs, “I guess.”

“Which room am I staying in?”

He turns around and stares at you with a confused expression. “What do you mean?”

“We’re at your parents' house and I don’t think they’d approve of us, a young man and a young woman sleeping in the same room.”

“We did it at school, what’s different now?”

“We’re under the same roof.”

He grabs the bags at the end of the stairs and starts walking up. “It’s fine.”

You follow him. “I don’t want your mom to think I’m a bad influence on you or something.”

“She won’t, stop worrying about it.”

“Dal-”

He drops the bags and pulls you closer, cupping your cheeks. “Stop it, she would never think that. If anything,” the corner of his lips twitch. “She’d think it was me.”

You stare into his eyes, no thoughts coming to mind.

He’s waiting for you to respond but you don’t, and he doesn’t know what to do.

The creaking of the bottom stairs startles you and you pull away. “I’m going to the kitchen.”

His dad raises a brow when he finds his oldest staring at the floor with rosy, red cheeks.

-

Dinner was a little awkward at first, but you managed to make it through without raising too much suspicion from Josh and Renai (or at least, you hope that’s the case).

You run upstairs after helping his mom with the dishes (Dalton, sat at the table drawing).

-

She nudges your side, “you can go upstairs and get ready for bed. I’m sure you’ll want to get as much sleep as you can.”

You shrug, “it’s okay. I can st-”

“Nope, upstairs you go.”

“But-”

“Go,” she says, offering a kind smile.

You grab the dish towel and dry off your hands before glancing over at him, suddenly remembering the way he was staring at you, and exit.

-

You walk back out of the bathroom to grab your toothbrush so you can relax in bed, only to find someone else also brushing his teeth. “Uh- sorry- I’ll just-”

He shakes his head and spits. “It’s fine. I’m almost done.”

You know how when you’re trying to avoid making eye contact with someone and it doesn’t work?

He finishes and puts his toothbrush in its holder before walking away, only to lean against the doorway. “What’s going on with you?”

You shake your head.

“Ever since earlier-”

You finish in time to cover his mouth. “Shut up. I don’t want your parents finding out.”

He lowers your hand. “Why? It’s not like we had sex or anything.”

You avoid making eye contact, the heat in your cheeks does nothing to help you as you walk into his room. “I think I should sleep in the guest room.”

“Wait, what? Why?” He stands in front of you, stopping you from walking out. “Wh- did it,” he takes a deep breath. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

You clench your jaw, unsure of how to tell him the true reason. “I-”

“If it did, I’m sorry.”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” He studies your fidgeting. “Did you,” the corner of his lips curved upwards. “Did you like it?”

“No.”

“You answered that too quickly. You did.” He chuckles, taking a step forward. “You can tell me to stop.”

You open your mouth to respond when he cups your cheeks and pulls you closer.

“I’ve missed you.”

You furrow your brows. “I didn’t leave?”

“Ever since the whole thing happened, I just- I’m happy you’re here with me.”

You glance from one eye to the other and slide your hands up to his neck, pulling him closer, into a crushingly comforting hug.

His arms wrapped around your shoulders and waist, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

You play with his hair as you two stand a few feet from the open doorway.

He removes his arms from you, and you think he’s done and start to loosen your grip on him until you hold onto him for dear life. “What are you doing?!” You ask, tightening your legs around his waist.

He doesn’t reply as he sets you down on his bed.

You get the hint and lay down, opening your arms (a spot reserved for him). You play with his hair some more. “Are you ever going to get a haircut?”

“Why?” He angles his head so he can look at you.

“Do you not like it?”

“I didn’t say that. I do, I was just wondering.” His eyes twinkle and he can’t find it in him to look away. “Can I kiss you?”

“Huh?”

“Can… I kiss you?”

You stare at him with a confused expression as your brain works on processing what he’s asked. “You want to kiss me… like as a friend?”

“What friend kisses another friend?”

“You know how some families or- or like celebrities kiss each other on the lips and it's not romantic, that’s- that’s what I’m thinking of.”

He leans on one elbow, hovering over you as his hand pushes the few stands of your hair behind your ear. “I definitely don’t mean it in a friendly way.”

“Really?”

He nods. “Chris thought we were together.”

“When did she say that?”

“Our first day.”

“Oh.”

“I hated that I had to say no.”

You take a leap and hope that he wasn’t playing a mean, mean joke on you.

-

Renai and Josh have been up since earlier this morning, seeing as it almost- “Josh, it’s almost ten o’clock. I think we should go at least check on them.” She raises her shoulder, keeping her phone tucked in the crook of her neck as she prepares her cup of coffee.

“They’re enjoying their first break; they’re not going to be awake right now.”

“Yeah well… they should be otherwise they’re not going to get breakfast.”

“Wow.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

-

The door slowly creaks open as she peeks her head in only to find the two of you still asleep, cuddling in a “less than friendly” way.

She shakes her head, knowing her ex-husband's right.

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Black Reader - The Bodyguard Part 1/8

Yeah, this is going to be good 🤭🤭 So good!

Summary - Reader is a popstars in trouble and Ruben is her new bodyguard, here to protect and help her find out who wants to hurt her. But what happens when the relationship between Reader and Ruben simply gets too personal?

Enjoy!

"A bodyguard? For what?"

"Y/N, a person has threatened your life."

"So? People do that online every day. Haters gonna hate."

You fell back against the cuchens of your fifthy thousand euro couch. Sure, it was expensive, but it came straight from the set of Pulp Fiction, a collectors item, worth every penny. Pulp Fiction was your absolute favorite movie of all time.

"I get that you don't want someone following you around all day, especially now with the tour of your knew album, but please consider your own safety first." You're sister had been managing you ever since the beginning of your singing career, of course her natural instict was to worry about you.

"Fine you sighed. So when is this guy coming?"

"Well, we had him fly in from his latest job in the UAE."

"The what know?"

"The UAE, like Dubai? Aapparently even the riches shieks in the middle east wants this guy as their bodyguard. He's an ex navy seal from what I've heard."

"Girl." You chuckled. "I received one threatening phone call from a man who calls himself the Dickonataor 3000. What makes you think I need a navy seal to protect me from that? You should have gotten one of the pumped up dudes from the fitness center I go to to set this guy straight. How much is this bodyguard guy even costing us?"

"Well, he said your only up for trial and that discussions won't happen until the end of that trial period."

"A trial?" You sat up. "You mean to tell me that this guy is only coming around for a trial. To what? See if my life is really worth guarding?"

"Somthing like that, yes. I don't know all the details. Taylor was the one who set everything up."

"Taylor? What does he know about hiring bodyguards?"

"Well he has a decade of experience when it comes to driving spoiled popstars like yourself."

"I'm not spoiled, you're spoiled."

You're sister smiled. "We're both spoiled."

"Mom would be very proud, too bad she rarely flies out to see us?"

"She will be here for your album release party, she promised."

"Yeah, yeah, promises promises, they mean nothing to me."

Your sister stood with her hands behind her back,  watching you. You hated the way she dressed nowadays, in pantsuits, like a damn politician.

"Are you ready to go back to rehearsals?" She asked. You had only gone back to your apartment for a quick break. You had been dancing all day.

"I haven't eaten anything yet." You said.

"We'll pick somthing up on the go, come." She offered you her hand. Just like she when you were kids, wanting to hold your hand on your way to school.

Rehearsals went well, however your feet were killing you by the time you got home. Taylor dropped you off at the apartment whilst your sister still had some business to take care of. You were glad to be alone for a change, having been surrounded by people telling you what to do all day.

"Maria?"

You peaked your head through to the kitchen to see if your personal chef was there. You'd ask her to cook a nice meal, perhaps one of her country's delicacies. You loved Brazilian food.

"Maria?"

She was nowhere to be found. You went to look for her in her office.

"Mari—"

"She's not here."

You froze as a big shadow swept behind you, followed by the dark voice of a man.

"Who are you?" You turned around and gasped. The man stood tall, dressed in a blacksuit and tie. His hair was slicked back, like a business man trying to appear more professional than he was.

"I'm here to kill you." He stated, just like that, with his hands tied before him.

"Um...okay. Taylor!!" You shouted.

"We're twelve stories up sweetheart, he won't hear you."

You frowned, applled by the man and his commanding, yet not threatening demeanor.

"What do you want, I don't keep any money here."

"Yeah, I realized that. However I hacked into your computer in your office."

"Y...you what?"

"It's not very smart of you not to encrypt any of your emails. I've received everything I need about your recent payments, credit card details, enough to forge your identity to make you go bankrupt in a few days time."

Your chest heaved up with your heavy breathing. Who was this guy, an intruder? Why was he so calm? Was he one of those serial killers to have sex with your corps before cutting it to pieces and eat it. Not on your watch, you thought and quickly ran back downstairs.

"Mariaaaaa!" You shouted.

"Like I said, I sent her home."

The man was right at your heals, following you wherever you went.

"What...why?" You said, slightly out of breath and your feet were still sore, so you didn't feel like running.

"Your apartment should be cleared out of staff by 6.pm it's easier to keep track of who goes in and out of the apartment if all your staff have a time stamp on them."

"How did you even get into the building?" You asked. "Did the doorman let you in?"

The man looked at you with tinted eyes, they were intimidating, yet kind. "The doorman has a shift change that occurs with a thirty minute window before the next guy shows up. I simply bid my time, observing your building all day, waiting for the right moment to simply walk into the building and take the elevator up to your floor."

"W.. what do you want?" You were trembling with fear now, ready to scream if the man dared try anything. However he seemed to keep his distance between you, yet it seemed like he was still invading your space.

"Like I said, I'm here to kill you. Or more so simulate how a killer would make the attempt to approach you in your home. From what I've gathered today you're an easy victim Y/N."

"How did you....wait are you...you're him aren't you? The bodyguard?"

The man stood with his hands behind his straight back, neither confirming or denying your statement.

You shook your head, a hint of a smile on your lips. "What a starnge way to introduce yourself and aren't you too young to be a bodyguard. I was expecting some G.I Joe looking mother fuc...."

"I think I'll do guarding a 60 kg girl who doesn't lock her front door when she leaves her home."

"But I know everyone who lives in this building and we have a doorman."

"You'll lock your doors from now on." He said, end of.

You were slightly taken back, mostly by the way he was dominating you, but also by the way you let him dominant you.

"It's my apartment,  I can do whatever I want." You said, a bit unconvincing.

"Not on my watch."

You snorted. "Right."

"Did I say something funny?"

"Yeah, a lot of things actually."

"I'm sorry to have frightened you with my unannounced entry Miss..."

"Y/N, is fine. " You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

"It's just standard protocol for me to ensure that whoever I'm working for is secure beyond my protection so that when it's necessary for me to give my life to them, I'll know it was for the right reason and not some sloppy mistake like an unlocked door or the fact that you let unwanted personal linger past suitable hours."

You're eyes were narrowed as you stared at the man, trying to make sense of it all. You stared at him until the point of realizing that he was actually kind of cute.

"Oh shit, there you are."

The strange introduction came to an end with your sister stumbling through the door.

"Taylor told me that he picked you up from the airport hours ago. I see you've already met my sister." She stepped forward shaking the man's hand.

"Yes we have just made ourselves acquainted, setting some ground rules for this arrangement."

Your sister looked at you, slightly impressed. You on the other hand was not having it at all.

"Y/N, why the long face?" Your sister said. "Meet Ruben Dias, you're new bodyguard."

[lucy90712]

Only here to party- Pedri

Deciding to study abroad was a hard decision to make but I knew it was best for me to move off the island and broaden my horizons by moving to England. As much as studying abroad was a good idea studying biology has turned out to be a bad decision I barely have any free time I never get to go out and I can never come home as I am always so busy. However now that the year has come to an end and it's summer break I can finally go home for a couple months and boy am I ready to have the best summer ever. 

I am going to make this summer the best few months of my life I want to spend nearly every day with my friends and go out as much as possible. The entire summer is going to be about going out and having fun not a single mention of university and definitely no boys. I tried dating a guy at university but he cheated on me with multiple people one being one of my friends so unless I don't want to get involved with any boys. Heartbreak is not on my to do list and I've told my friends to not let me get attached and they will definitely stick to that as they can be harsh with me when they need to be.

After getting back yesterday tonight is our first girls night out and I couldn't be more excited. I've spent pretty much all day getting ready I woke up late as I was tried from my flight but after that I showered, washed my hair, shaved pretty much everything. It's been a long while since I got dressed up at all but I still have all of my dresses and nice makeup which are definitely going to get a lot of use these next few months. I was really feeling myself so I picked my absolute favourite dress I own it's a bit short and quite form fitting but I want to look and feel good so I don't really care what anyone else thinks about me. I'm not one for wearing much makeup but I decided to put on a bit more than I usually would as I was feeling adventurous. 

It took me a good while but once I was ready I got my shoes on and made my way to the club which is only just down the road from my place so I decided to walk. The rest of the girls live a bit further out so we agreed to meet at the club as they were all coming together. Just as I got to the club a taxi pulled up with all of my friends in, we hadn't seen each other since I left last summer so there was a lot of hugs and a lot of catching up we need to do. 

"You look gorgeous girl that post break up glow is making you look magical" one of my friends said 

"All the guys in the club are going to be looking at you" another added 

"Thank you guys you all look amazing too but remember I don't want to be involved with any new guy so if you see me getting too close with someone stop me" I said 

"You got it girl no men we won't let you get hurt again" my best friend said 

We headed into the club and I was dragged straight to the bar to get a drink or maybe two whatever it takes to get me slightly tipsy. I'm not here to get drunk out of my mind I just want to have some fun and enjoy my life as I haven't done that in nearly a year. It was clear very quickly that there was a lot of guys in the club were staring at me but I didn't take any notice some of them were cute but not cute enough for me to change the one rule I set for myself this summer. My friends however are not following the same rules as me so they all quickly ran off to find a guy that took their fancy. That left me alone but it didn't bother me I can handle myself as I'm used to doing that when I'm back in England. I decided to dance for a bit and found my best friend on the dance floor so we danced together for a bit but at some point she went to the bathroom and never came back but I saw her talking to some guy that was definitely her type so I left her be. 

Seeing as the group had broken apart I took myself back to the bar to just sit and watch over them all just to make sure nothing bad happened. As I was watching the dance floor I made eye contact with a guy who sent me a smile. He was very attractive exactly my type with his brown eyes and hair and his slight beard that somehow made his features stand out even more. I quickly realised I was staring at him and stopped myself because I could feel myself being drawn to him but I don't want to find someone to get attached to. He clearly noticed my staring as the next thing I knew he was taking a seat next to me at the bar and flashing that smile that drew my attention in the first place. 

"Hey I'm Pedro can I buy you a drink?" He asked 

"Sure I'm y/n by the way" I said 

He ordered another of what I had drunk before and a drink of his own and we were also given free food.

"You must be well known here to get free things" I joked

"Wait you don't recognise me" he said 

"No am I supposed to" I said 

"No it's just most people here seem to know who I am" he said 

"Well now I need to know I feel left out" I laughed 

"I'm a footballer for Barcelona and for Spain I go by a nickname though the name Pedri might be more familiar to you" he said 

"I have heard that name but I'm not into football sorry to bruise your ego" I said 

"I like it people who don't care who I am are much more fun to be around" he smiled 

We continued talking he asked about my life and once I told him I was studying in England there was a lot he wanted to know. I asked him a few questions about his life as it's not everyday you meet a footballer especially in Tenerife but he wanted to focus the conversation on me. It was quite clear that there was a connection between us and really to stick to my rules I should stop talking to him but I can't help myself. It would feel wrong to leave this here and not give Pedri a chance especially as both of us don't live in Tenerife so it's not like we could run into each other once I think I'm ready to date again. Sometimes our plans don't line up with what the universe has set out for us and I don't want to ruin something that could go somewhere even if we only end up as friends Pedri is a cool person to be friends with. 

One by one my friends came to find me and say they were leaving with whoever they had met leaving me with Pedri. So much for them stopping me from getting attached to someone but honestly I kind of appreciate it I definitely would've fought them if they tried to take me away from Pedri. Once we reached the early hours of the morning both of us wanted to go home Pedri offered to walk me home and I wasn't going to say no to spending more time with him so we walked down the road together. As we got to the door I was starting to wish I lived further from the club so I could spend more time with Pedri. 

"I know both of us won't be here for long so can I have your number I'd love to see you again before we both leave" he asked 

"Of course give me your phone and I'll put my number in" I said 

I did just that and once I had put my number in we said goodbye and Pedri promised he'd text me in the morning. 

~~~~~~~~~~

This summer has flown by I have been back home for 2 months but I leave again in a few days and I'm really sad about it. My summer has gone completely differently to how I imagined it would too I was expecting to spend time mostly with my friends out at the beach most days and then going out drinking on the weekends but I have done that like 3 times. I have seen my friends and spent time on the beach but I've spent more of my time with Pedri. When I told my friends about Pedri they weren't shocked that I broke my rule in fact they told me that they saw me with him and were going to drag me away but once they saw how happy I was they let me be. If it wasn't for them I probably wouldn't have spent as much time as I have with Pedri they were the ones to tell me to just go for it and see where things go as I won't get another chance like this and that turned out to be good advice.

Pedri and I have spent so much time together we've seen each other nearly every day and we text each other constantly. In the last month we have been on a few dates all of which have been amazing. Whenever we spend time with our friends they are always telling us to get a room as we are pretty much attached at the hip, Pedri has developed a habit of having his hand on my waist pretty much at all times which I'm not complaining about as I love it. Over the last two months I've really fallen for Pedri and I'd like to think he feels the same way the trouble is we both have to leave at some point and I don't know if things will be the same when we can't see each other all the time. 

Today is the last day Pedri and I can see each other has we both leave in a few days so we need some time to pack. He invited me to his for the day as he has a pool so we can swim together and just sit outside in the sun all day. Pedri wanted me to come over early so I had to drag myself out of bed and to his place but it was worth it as he had breakfast ready for both of us and he greeted me with a kiss which always makes my morning better. 

After having some breakfast we both got into swimwear and got into the pool. More often than not we don't really do any swimming we just float around in the water and today was no different. I leant against the side in the shallowest part of the pool as that's where I can touch the bottom and Pedri stood in front of me with his arms around my waist. His hair was wet but somehow he still looked incredible possibly better than he looks on any normal day which is saying something. We were just staring at each other sharing the odd kiss but I could tell Pedri was thinking about something he had the look in his eye that I've learnt means he's deep in thought considering something. 

"What are you thinking about?" I asked 

"Oh nothing just daydreaming" he said 

"I know that's a lie you have that thinking expression of yours tell me what's on your mind" I said 

"What's going to happen to us when we both leave?" He asked 

This is the question I have been thinking about myself and dreading having to answer. I don't want to end things with Pedri but is long distance going to work. I'm always so busy and I know he is too so will we even get to see each other and if we don't will we just fall out of love. There is so many questions and most of which we won't know the answer to unless we give things a try. 

"I don't know I really like you and I've enjoyed these last two months more than the rest of the last year but we would have to be long distance" I said 

"I know it won't be easy but if you are willing to I'd love to try long distance I don't just want to let what we have go this feels special more than just a holiday romance" he said 

"If you're willing to give it a go then so am I but we need to communicate well and be ready not to see each other that often" I said 

"I will do anything to make this work we can FaceTime every night and any breaks we have we can visit each other we can make this work" he said 

"Then let's do it" I said 

"First though I have something I want to ask" he said 

"What's that" I questioned 

"Will you be my girlfriend?" He asked 

"I would love to" I replied leaning in to kiss him

[kissami]

sum. You never thought you’d find the one at your best friend’s coffee shop.

genre: fluff..super super fluffy

fem reader with she/ her pronouns

WARNING: I’m uploading this while at work so I’ll edit it once I’m home ! So it’s not cute and aesthetic rn 🙄🙄

"I just don't get why she keeps thinking this nonsense, Kyo! I mean, I help with taking care of bills, buying groceries, what else does she want from me?!"

Kyo rose an eyebrow towards you, watching you slam your head on the counter gently and placing your cup on the table, begging for the next round.

"I need another one."

You ordered, but he only rolled his eyes in return.

"You had four cups of coffee in just two hours, you had more than enough for at least a week."

Groaning, you squished your cheeks between your arms as you hid your head.

Your roommate had been annoying lately. Always being so stern with you even when you did almost everything so you two could have a comfy environment to live in, but no matter what you did, she just seemed to hate you more and more.

It was tough moving out of your parent’s place, but this girl truly was testing your limits it seemed.

It wasn’t always like this. When you first met her, she was very sweet and understanding with you which made you think that maybe you finally made a friend who wasn’t your childhood friend.

All you wanted was a friend, but ever since you introduced her to Kyo, she seemed to do a 180 and completely shut you out.

Only for you to find out the two were put together for a date…one he never showed up for without notice.

But speak of blinding dates…

"Oh my gosh! This is the third time you left me alone, you asshole! That's it, I'm done!"

A loud slam quickly brought you out of your mini crisis as your eyes averted over to the couple near the entrance.

Raising your eyebrows in amusement, you saw a girl with black hair grabbing her bag and leaving with a pissed off expression on her face. The blond she was sitting with that you assumed was her date, rubbed his face in annoyance.

He's gorgeous.

You turned to your friend and smiled as a bright idea had quickly made its way into your head which made him tense up a bit, shaking his head quickly as he knew exactly what you were trying to do.

"Nope, I'm done trying to set you up with my customers. You're on your own."

You pouted, watching as Kyo walked to the back room to speak to Tifa about the upcoming schedules.

You could see how close Tifa and him were getting, how flustered he’d get or rush at any moment to be with her. That was enough leverage for you to use against him.

Smirking, you turned back around to see the boy talking on his phone, his face showing not much concern it seemed, but by the looks of it, it seemed like he was being scolded like a cat from the other line of the call which had you intrigued.

Your eyes widened when he slammed his phone down on the table and sighing, digging inside of his pocket to grab his credit card from his black leather wallet.

He's gonna pay, no he can't leave yet!

That's when you thought of a great, amazing, and most definitely the best idea ever.

Walking over the counter as stealthy and quickly as possible, you hid behind it as you waited for him to ring the bell to pay.

DING!

Rising up, you smiled gently and leaned your hands on the counter.

"Hey, what can I do for ya,cutie?"

You could almost feel your eyes sparkle in amusement when he scoffed and rubbed his neck, looking at you with those bright blue eyes you could stare at forever.

"I'm just paying. And who are you? I've never seen you work here before and I come here everyday."

He spoke lowly and looking anywhere besides your face, his eyes fixated on a dancing chunky cat on the tv screen above your head.

"I just started…today? Right I just started working today!" You smiled nervously, rubbing your ring on your right hand.

"Oh, that's good to know I guess."

"Yeah, it is good to know, huh?"

Shit.

You thought as you turned around to your best friend, seeing him rise an eyebrow and clearly questioning your 'amazing' idea to get to know the cute boy that was looking at the both of you now even more confused than before.

"Yup! Aw Kyo don't act like I'm not the best employee you have!" You slapped his arm, glaring at him for him to play along.

"Yeah okay, anyways Cloud it's on the house today."

Cloud. What a cool name.

Cloud nodded, saying a small thank you as he began to walk away.

Your eyes shot over to your best friend, giving him a pleading look to have him stay a bit longer which made Kyo scoff.

If this guy had you pretend you worked at his coffee shop, the one place you said you would despise working at and rather lick the carpet, then you clearly were way more interested in him than he thought.

And boy were you going to be in debt for this.

"Only if you tell us what happened on your 5th blind date."

Kyo smirked, watching as Cloud stopped almost instantly.

Cloud stood there quietly. Usually he’d pretend he didn’t hear anything like this but he truly did need someone to listen to his frustrations and what better yet than the guy his best friend, Tifa, had a crush on?

"It's like no matter how many dates I'm set on, no one wants to continue dating me. I don't mind though, I don't need a partner to be happy I guess."

Hearing a bell ring, Kyo looked over to you and smirked even more, watching your sparkling like eyes looking even more interested in the blond and what he needed to say next.

"Well my favorite employee, it's time for you to get back to work, right?"

You opened and closed your mouth repeatedly like a fish out of water but it only resulted in him pushing you away to take the new order.

"Get along now stupid and do your job! I'm not paying you for nothing!"

"But you're not pa-"

"What was that employee of the month, I didn't quite hear you?!"

"Yeah yeah whatever."

Slumping your shoulders, you made your way to the cash register, and instantly losing braincells on how the hell to work it.

Kyo looked back, seeing the blond still looking over to you as you groaned like a little kid trying to figure out how the monstrosity worked.

A small smile slowly took the blond’s old sour frown which Kyo was quick to catch.

"She's single you know. Plus, she thinks you're really cute. The idiot doesn't even work for me but she did that to talk with you."

Cloud looked over to his friend and shrugged.

"I think she’s cute too, but she needs to work harder to get me. I'm not that easy you know."

"Yeah that's what all your old dates said too,huh?"

"Kyo…" Cloud sighed again, but kept his mako eyes on your cute figure who now was scrambling around like a lost puppy, following Tifa around as she laughed at how silly you looked trying to learn how to charge orders.

Kyo chuckled, shaking his head at how adorable you looked. "Besides, the idiot owes me. She'll be working here for a while."

To say Cloud wasn't looking forward to waking up everyday and heading to the café, was an understatement.

He was less grumpy now and would spend hours texting you all night, but he tried his best to show no interest in you at all, which to Tifa and Kyo, was obvious he had a thing for you.

You had no clue if he felt the same or not, which Cloud was a bit thankful of you being so oblivious.

That was until you finally had enough and needed to know exactly what was going on between the two of you.

Clearly there was something there, so what better way to figure it out than what you do best?

A hot americano with whipped cream topped with cinnamon and caramel was what he would get all the time, but you added something more for him.

Are you a loan bank? Because you got my interest.

Ah yes, your cheesy pick up lines. No matter how hard Cloud tried to keep a straight face, he still managed to let out a small smile that made your heart burst.

You've been doing this for three months straight now, but he finally had the guts to do something.

Can I borrow a kiss? I promise I'll give it back!

That was all it took for Cloud to lean over the counter and place his lips on yours.

[weirdkpopgirl]

Loved | Haechan Imagine #4

Title: Loved

Genre: Fluff, slight angst (but not really)

Warnings: none

Word Count: 949

Author's Note: Someone requested this, and I really enjoyed writing it. So thank you to the anon that did! I like getting the opportunity to show Haechan's mature side. While he is our cute sunshine, I can tell based on video clips I've seen, that he thinks a lot about others and is really sweet. Anyway, hope you guys like this. Thank you for reading ^ ^

─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─

Dance practice wrapped up just as the evening set in, granting Haechan the rest of the night to himself. Of course, he didn't want to squander this chance to see you. It felt like ages since the last time he got to spend quality time with you. The daily text messages and voice calls didn't quite satisfy his longing to be by your side.

You certainly weren't expecting anyone to visit tonight. But you were quite delighted to be greeted by the tan-skinned boy wearing a gray hoodie that almost concealed his freshly washed hair. Haechan opened his arms with a tired smile and you happily walked into his warm embrace.

He exhaled, burying his face into your neck, taking in the pleasant scent of green tea from the shampoo you used. No matter how exhausted he felt, you always provided him with the utmost comfort. He would stay in this position forever if he could. However, just as Haechan was relaxing into the hug, he felt your stomach grumble softly.

Haechan frowned and pulled away from the hug. “(Y/n), when was the last time you had a meal?”

You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing to find an excuse. The intensity of his gaze was slightly intimidating and he looked just about ready to scold you.

“Well, you know I don’t usually eat breakfast. But I was planning to grab lunch after my class!” You started to explain sheepishly. “Then we got this assignment that I just really wanted to get done. So I came back here to work on it, and then…I got caught up in other homework.”

Your eyes pleaded desperately for him not to overreact, but the expression on Haechan's face indicated otherwise. Nonetheless, you still wanted to persuade your overprotective boyfriend that this wasn’t a big deal.

"Hyuck, there's really nothing to worry about! I'm not even that hungry," you laughed nervously. 

Of course just as you said that, your stomach erupted in another small fit of growls. Your face turned as red as a tomato as Haechan exhaled heavily.

“I think your stomach disagrees with you, babe,” he teased, taking your hand. “Come on, we’re going out to eat. It’ll be my treat!”

“Hyuck, you really don’t need to–,” you tried to refuse. 

But Haechan fully planned on ignoring your protests. “No excuses (Y/n). I won’t take no for an answer. Let’s go out and enjoy a meal together.”

He was giving you that intense look again, and you couldn’t argue. With a defeated sigh, you slipped on your sneakers and allowed Haechan to lead you out of your apartment. That's how you ended up seated at a cozy barbecue restaurant, with Haechan confidently using tongs to grill the meat across from you.

Your gaze remained fixed on his skilled movements as he lifted a piece of pork belly with his chopsticks and carefully arranged it on a leaf of lettuce. With precision, he added a little bit of soybean paste before folding it into a neat bundle and offering it to you.

“Ah,” he ordered, looking more determined than ever.

Reluctantly, you complied, allowing him to gently feed the perfectly crafted wrap into your waiting mouth. Haechan smiled in satisfaction as he watched you eat.

“That’s my girl,” he cheered. 

You rolled your eyes in response, even though you weren’t annoyed with him at all. Haechan was probably burnt out from work, and he certainly wasn’t responsible for your bad eating habits. Regardless, he took matters into his own hands and made such a touching gesture. 

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you mumbled, glancing down at your bowl of rice.

Haechan smiled warmly, “Of course I did. If my girlfriend neglects herself, it’s my job to make sure she stays healthy.”

“Ugh, why are you such a sweetheart?” you blurted without thinking. 

However, you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by his kindness. You had a feeling that not many people saw this side of Haechan. Not the outgoing side that poked fun at people and got on everyone’s nerves. But the sweet and caring side of him, that was always looking out for those he loved.

Haechan chuckled, his eyes filled with gentle amusement. "Baby, you're not going to cry, are you?"

"No," you answered, your voice soft but resolute, even as tears welled up in your eyes. It's just... not many people cared for you the way Haechan did. 

The male sensed your vulnerability and reached across the table to take your hand in his. 

Gently caressing it, he whispered,  "You do stuff like this all the time for me, you know." 

The once lighthearted expression on his face shifted into a more earnest one.

“But it’s because we love each other, and we never want to see one of us hurt,” he said firmly. 

His words brought a smile to your lips, and you returned the gentle squeeze to his hand.  

“You’re right,” you sighed. “I guess when you think about it, we do have something special.”

If the two of you weren't in a public setting, Haechan might have leaned across the table to capture those lovely lips with his own. Yet, he restrained his impulses and instead opted to pick up another piece of meat to offer you. This time, you accepted without hesitation, a gentle flutter in your heart threatening to erupt into a giggle.

You could certainly consider this as one of those moments when Lee Haechan made you feel more loved than ever.

─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─

[spunsugarmusings]

Laura Bow In: The Dagger of Amon-Ra Sentence Starter Pack

Quotes taken from the game Laura Bow In: The Dagger of Amon-Ra, the wildly tonally different sequel to The Colonel's Bequest. TW for murder, death, infidelity and such. Change pronouns and tenses as needed, some entries have been edited for clarity, and please enjoy!

"There is still time to correct this most grievous misunderstanding."

"Don't let him shake you. He's tough on the outside, but inside, he's got a heart of stone."

"Don't touch it! You don't know where it's been!"

"That's what you think, you mallard rest buffoon!"

"It is a unicorn, left over from a King's Quest game."

"You're in a heck of a pickle now!"

"Death is a natural part of life, so when your time comes, it's best to accept it and go out gracefully."

"Your perky demeanor and thorough technique are making you a First Class Detective."

"Death from traumatic lead poisoning claims many lives every year."

"Stay out of my way, or I'll thrash you within an inch of your life!"

"We usually just hire men for this job. It's rough out there, and you're kind of…small."

"You mean there's ANOTHER [NAME]? No two sets of parents could be THAT cruel."

"He's got a chip on his shoulder the size of the Brooklyn Bridge. He'll try to cut you down. Just shake it off; that's what I had to do."

"Look, that was long ago and far away, okay? The room was dark and I was NOT married at the time."

"I don't know how you know about that, but I don't want to hear another word about it."

"Oh, lovely place if you like rats, thieves, and roughnecks."

"Don't bother Doctor Jazz while he's performing."

"Ya look so cute in that outfit, it makes me want to scream!"

"I find it distasteful to celebrate thievery in the name of science!"

"Amon-Ra will have his revenge!"

"Excuse me, SIR, but I see a turkey leg on the buffet table that requires my attention."

"I just happened to be standing here."

"I don't think my wife would ever have done it in a mummy case."

"Oh, I'm sure his body is crawling with maggots by now."

"If his spirit IS with you, let me know because I'd love to see it!"

"Very kind of you to say that, but there are many who misinterpret my actions."

"A delightful girl. I keep asking her if she'd like to be my second wife."

"It never hurts to have highly-placed friends on the police force, no?"

"He doesn't care a fig for what's right and what's wrong! His evil deeds will catch up to him though, just wait and see!"

"Our civilization has evolved over thousands of years, so our methods are quite well thought out and practical."

"I almost didn't recognize you with your clothes on."

"Even empty water glasses have their uses."

"Oh, wunderbar! Now we've got the AMATEURS involved."

"The food is free of bugs, if that's what you were worried about."

"That translates out to: "My Fish Dances in the Parking Lot"?!"

"The tablet says: "She who reads this cursed tablet is doomed to be eaten by a thousand voracious scarabs"."

"You might cut yourself, or you could put an eye out, or any number of other things could happen that your mother warned you about when you were little and everything in your life was dangerous."

"Your face has certainly changed to an attractive pale color, my dear."

"Remember our deal."

"You'll have to show me how sorry you are. Kiss me."

"Honestly, you men can be such crybabies."

"Because of you, a murderer is running around loose in this city, free to kill again!"

"I've got more tricks than you have braincells!"

"Nobody just happens to HIDE behind a museum tapestry!"

"The nerve, going around accusing people of stealing paintings!"

"Just be keeping in mind that I'd have to kill you if I ever found out you were sleeping with someone else."

"It's been a long time since I've been able to trust anyone as much as I trust you."

"We've got a perfectly good art burglary scheme going!"

"That's not blood, you got me all excited..."

"That man'd lie to his own MOTHER if someone paid him for it!"

"I lost a load of Egyptian cobras down there a few weeks ago, and I occasionally come across one of the little darlings."

"I need more proof before I subject him to the full force of my wrath."

"Why are you tied up on my desk?"

"If you see him, will you tell him [NAME] is dying on the desk in my office?"

"Ah, excuse me, I was looking for the women's lounge?"

"There is too much at stake here, too many important people are involved!"

"We can either test you or sacrifice you, it's your choice!"

"It's all that damned lousy reporter's fault!"

[pjisskullourful]

in honour of this happening at my gig(its for me, save your breath telling me it aint cos it is! they were in the same building as me. damithan supremacy is fucking real) imma post a little overdue something

my rainbow family halloween fic never came together, i had a cute idea but sometimes the fic dont fic. but yall can have the first 1k+ of what i did write, which includes a little secret i've been keeping from yall for the throuples future. please enjoy, i wish october had been nicer to me so i could have gotten this fic finished for yall

With nothing but Britney Spears to hear as you styled the long blonde wig, it almost felt like old times. You were reminded of spending a huge chunk of your paycheck on new wigs and spending practically every Saturday night at a live music venue, standing for hours in the most uncomfortable shoes known to man. You remembered the extra concentration that had been put into styling the wig that you wore to surprise your boyfriends with your debut (and only) performance in drag.

The illusion of nostalgia was being routinely interrupted by your baby bump getting in your way. At thirty-three weeks pregnant, your movements had to be adjusted from the typical. That kept you from getting entirely lost in memories, along with the blinking baby monitor set up on your desk.

This wasn’t your first time working on this wig, you had been at it with the hairspray and curling iron many times during the course of this month. And it was almost perfect, almost ready to go atop Damiano’s head to complete his Lestat costume. For this year’s iteration of Victoria and René's famous Halloween parties, your boyfriends were dressing to match one another. They were channelling the leads from 1994’s Interview with the Vampire, with Ethan taking on Brad Pitt’s Louis.

You were going as one of their victims, with prosthetic, gory wounds ready to be glued to your body. The 1800’s dance-style dress you planned to wear would accommodate your tummy, as well as fitting the theme since you had gone at it with scissors and dark red paint.

You were interrupted from your work by the sound of your family returning home. Damiano, Ethan and the three kids were back from their excursion to a local pumpkin patch. You unplugged the curling iron, leaving it on the heat-resistant pad before easing yourself onto your feet. You collected the baby monitor before leaving the room, ready for the moment when Bowie awoke from his nap.

When you got downstairs you followed the voices of Ethan and Marsha, finding them in the family room. They were standing at the crafting table, which was currently dominated by the largest real-life pumpkin you had ever seen - it appeared to be three times the size of your head.

“You don’t think his name is Patrick?” He was asking of your daughter.

“No, that’s the name of the starfishies.” She replied, speaking as if this rule of hers was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Right, well maybe this is a girl, a girl named Paula.”

She looked at the giant vegetable with her eyes narrowed, carefully studying it with this new information. Ultimately, she decided her dad was speaking the truth and nodded her head. “Paula the pumpkin.”

“That’s the most Paula-looking pumpkin I’ve ever seen.” You contributed your opinion as you walked closer to them.

“Hi Mama. Do you like the pumpkin Cosmo picked? I helped.” She said, perked up with pride.

“You guys did an amazing job.” You said. “You don’t need to keep that heavy jacket on now that you’re inside, Miss Thing.”

She fumbled with the combination of zipper and buttons on her winter coat. But she succeeded without assistance and pulled the garment off, handing it to you straight away.

“How about you go check if Papa needs any help making lunch?” Ethan suggested.

She left for the kitchen and you turned to look at your boyfriend, a displeased look on your face when you began to speak. “You got the smallest one they had, eh?”

“The kids picked it. What was I supposed to do- tell them that they picked wrong?” He asked.

“You’re supposed to redirect them.” You said. “Come on, we talked about this and we all agreed- no more pumpkins bigger than Moe. They’re gonna drive us nuts, asking every day for it to be moved around the veranda, or from the front veranda to the back, then the opposite.”

“I know, but you should have seen how excited he was, he was planning out all the cool things he would have space to add. I didn’t have the heart to stifle his creativity.” He said, clearly trying to win you over with his sweetness.

“You let my children run wild, Ethan.” You attempted to maintain your stern tone.

The expression on his face changed as he switched to the tactic of distracting you. “You smell like hairspray, have you been working on the wig again? I would love to see the progress.”

“Yeah, I bet you would.” You said sarcastically.

Before he could continue his facade, everything was interrupted by your son’s crying coming through the speaker you held. Bowie had woken up, providing Ethan with a great distraction.

He grabbed the baby monitor before you had a chance to react. “I’ve got him.” Swiftly he was disappearing out of the room and up the staircase.

You gave the large pumpkin another look. You were glad that this year you had an excuse to count you out of the three kids' consistent redecorating ideas. It got very tedious trying to keep up with them deciding, then re-evaluating the perfect spot for the heavy decoration.

By the time Ethan came into the kitchen with Bowie the toddler had stopped crying. You were sitting with the rest of your kids along the island, everyone enjoying their own serving of scrambled eggs. Damiano was making sure each child had the drink they wanted.

“He’s okay.” Ethan said of Bowie, who was looking around the room with bright eyes. “He just wanted us to know that he’s awake.” Ethan tapped him on his tiny nose.

The kids had been told that their crafting would begin once lunch was finished, prompting them to start asking as soon as Sylvia’s plate was cleared. They were made to wait until everybody was done, with Ethan the last one eating. He purposefully took smaller and slower bites, earning him theatrical groans from the three eldest.

Damiano took care of tidying up, leaving you and Ethan to get the various crafts prepared. For Cosmo’s pumpkin carving, Ethan laid some sheets from the newspaper onto the floor. The twins were easy to organise, they would be taking their textas to print-outs of pumpkins to be hung up in the windows. You picked out the pots of face-paint that had been purchased for you to help Bowie turn your pregnant belly into a festive pumpkin. You had some old towels on hand for the mess that was certainly coming your way.

He eagerly took one of the paintbrushes that you offered, once you were seated somewhat-comfortably on the floor. Your son turned away from you, uninterested in what you were doing at present. Wobbly steps took him over to where his siblings were gathered, around and on top of the newspaper in anticipation of Ethan bringing the pumpkin over.

“Hey Dada, what’s my star sign?” Cosmo asked, the horoscope section catching his eye.

Once Ethan answered this, the girls wanted to know theirs. This led to Ethan reading out the two horoscopes, which were peppered with words the kids didn’t understand, his explanations slowing the whole process down. Sylvia got bored first, leaving for the table where all of the colouring supplies were set up.

He and Cosmo were still drawing out their ideas on the pumpkin when Damiano came into the room. You were using a marker to create a guide for the painting on your skin while Bowie gave each of the brushes careful check-overs (some of the handles required a taste test). The twins were making the most progress, their markers quickly moving across the pages, their focus secured. Damiano checked that you didn’t need any assistance before stationing himself with the girls.

You wiped the handles of one of the brushes on the towel before dipping it into the orange paint. “Are you ready to paint, baby Bowie?”

He raised his brush into the air. “Pah.”

“Uh-huh.” You said. “You wanna help Mama paint this section, right here in the centre of her belly?”

He had a serious look on his face as he scooted closer to you, apparently ready to concentrate on the craft. You handed your brush to him and he took a long look at the thick orange liquid on the bristles. You feared that he would touch it to his face, or worse, try to eat it.

But he proved his skills, applying the bristles to the taut skin of your tummy. The paint felt slimy on your skin as he worked the brush up-and-down, seeming to understand that this was somewhat similar to when he painted at his baby easel. You were unbothered when some of his brush strokes partially went over your outline of an eye.

“Wow, that looks so good already.” You enthused.

He nodded his head as he accepted from you the alternate brush dipped in paint. “Good.”

He wasn’t the most gentle as he made contact with your skin, applying the paint over on your side. There was a method to how he worked, spreading the orange further across your tummy. There had been many attempts at trying to get him excited over the fact that you were growing a brand new baby in there. It was hard to tell how much he absorbed this information, but what you really cared about was that he was enjoying decorating your large belly.

“Okay, now push with your elbow until the blade of the knife goes all the way in.” Ethan instructed as he held his hand over Cosmo’s on the serrated knife.

Cosmo wore a look of great concentration, his brow furrowed as he sucked on his upper lip. He moved the knife carefully, pushing until more than the pointed tip disappeared into the real pumpkin. Ethan held the vegetable steady with his other hand as Cosmo kept working the knife in.

While colouring with the twins, Damiano had found a doll-sized cowboy hat. It was quite common to come across misplaced pieces of toys around your home, so he didn’t bother to question it. He balanced the tiny hat on the tip of his index finger, absentmindedly keeping it elevated.

This caught Bowie’s eye, taking his attention away from painting. He got to his feet and you had just enough time to take the messy brush off of him before he wandered away. He went directly over to his dad, reaching for his arm.

“Hey, little man.” Damiano enthusiastically greeted him.

“Hat.” Bowie said.

“Oh, is this yours?” Damiano asked, offering the small hat to him. “Are you a cowboy?” Damiano placed the miniature accessory atop Bowie’s head, towards the centre where it could be somewhat steady. Immediately he was giggling, not needing to see his reflection to find this funny. “It looks really terrific on you. It must be your hat because it suits you so well.”

Bowie whipped around to face you, the hat slipping off of his hair in the process. Damiano quickly remedied this, holding Bowie still with a hand on his shoulder until the hat was back in place.

[ask-serendipity-sky]

There are a lot of rumors going on that the actress han so hee is going to be in the jk1 mv that set to come out in July because both of their staffs have been photographed to be in the same location and a lot of people are assuming it’s gonna be romantic and have a lot of “love” scenes + people are also saying that Jo went on a date with a woman in LA and are bringing up the fact that he also went on date with a woman jeju and it’s causing alot of chaos and people are starting to doubt kookmin again. My question is, if it’s true and han so hee is in the mv and it turns out to be romantic do you think it will affect the “believability” of kookmin? And I know men can have female friends but alot of people are saying it happened way too many times for it to be just them “hanging out” since it’s mostly a one on one kind of situation. I’m sorry if I worded this poorly English is not my first language but I’d really like to hear your insight since I’m new to this whole Jikook thing and things seem to be very confusing.

Hi anons,

Oh god. All this time I thought this was a joke. I've been in a Jikook bubble ever since Jimin's live. I still want to talk about that but everyone else moved on, apparently lol

(I'll still talk about Jm's live later today just to clear the air lol)

To ME, Jk being in a video with a woman in any way or using "she" "girl" or anything that doesn't point to Jimin, wouldn't phase me at all. This wouldn't affect the credibility of Jikook for ME.

I keep using Ricky Martin as an example but he is really the best example. He is a gay man with videos like the following:

Drop It On Me

She Bangs

Those clips...ahem. If Jikook did a performance like that the world would go down in flames and the haters would rejoice...but these performances are just that. Performances.

My mom and I would watch his performances and say "Nope, he still gay."

Music, dancing, lyrics doesn't make someone straight or gay. Ricky is spanking his dancers and the women all grinding up on him and he's smiling looking hot and the man is still gay.

I wouldn't think "Omg, Jk danced with a woman. He must not be into men." Because these performances of dancing with a woman or a man don't define anyone's gender. It's just art.

And regarding the dating rumors, again I'm still unfazed lol

I've never seen her hanging out with Jungkook. The picture of Jungkook in Jeju doesn't even show that he was with a woman in a romantic way or a date. It shows nothing. Just like all the other pictures where Jungkook is standing close to a woman. Nothing.

Yes, she did attend the premiere with Tae, Jk, and Tae's friends.

She's smiling with Tae's friend and Jk is doing his own thing. Has anyone linked her to Tae's friend instead?

She wasn't even there in the pictures and video Tae posted.

(I won't post the pictures because I'm petty like that and I strongly dislike Tae's behavior. I'll just post this Jungkook to keep this post pretty."

If he is dating her why did Jungkook find the need to come do a welive instead of continuing the night with her?

He was feeling troubled but found comfort in a welive instead of his rumored girlfriend.

And if Jungkook is dating her, why in the world did he make a 3 part welive on White Day and had Jimin on his mind?

This is why I don't worry. We see Jikook in separate screens, but there are real things that connect them. Things that are said by them. Not random rumors or blurry pictures.

I'm quite transparent about the times I have personally observed Jikook troubles but this is just not one of these times where I sense trouble.

Thank you for stopping by!

[dirtytransmasc]

I'll rephrase, Alicent in the first episodes after the time skip treat rhaenyra like shit before aemond's episode and whisper to aegon how he will become king, so, in this time rhaenyra did nothing to be seen as a threat to alicent's children. And mostly because alicent is aware that viserys loves only rhaenyra, alicent should have preserve her relationship with rhaenyra if she really care for her children, not give rhaenyra a reason to hate her. The cold truth is that before aemond's episode most of alicent's choise are guided not by the love she have for her children but by her resentment toward rhaenyra. Alicent herself plant the seed for the dance, not rhaenyra. She crown aegon aware that rhaenyra will not bend the knee and that houses will support her but still forces aegon to take the crown and start a war, the reason why her children are in danger ARE HER NOT RHAENYRA. When people say that they're happy for alicent's end honestly i can't agree more because all the blood of the dance, not only her children or rhaenyra's but the blood of everyone, is on her shoulders and on her choise.

***EDIT AT BOTTOM***

ok, so, gonna try and be nice, but I've tackled takes close to this one before, and I'm getting a wee bit tired of it, but I'm gonna do it again anyway.

Alicent had no reason, to respect, love, or foster a relationship with Rhaenyra during the timeskip, and tried her hardest to prior to the timeskip, only to get walked all over, so she stopped trying.

I've gone over this in a few posts like this, this, and this one (these are similar takes, not exactly catering to this one exactly, so like, take them with a pinch of salt and focus on what caters to this take if your gonna go through reading them), but Alicent does not owe Rhaenyra any good will, at all, point blank.

Alicent tried for years, long enough to have 2 children, to reforge her relationship with Rhaenyra. this was after she was prayed upon by a grown ass man who forced her hand in marriage (after her own father sent her to the mans chambers, and if you try and argue she had any choice or say, or try to blame her for her marriage to Viserys I will gladly just send you to my many posts as to why that's a straight up lie, cause I've beaten that horse beyond death, its pulverized) and Rhaenyra treated her like absolute garbage, abandoning her in her greatest time of need. but she still tried to rekindle that bond, tried to include rhaenyra, tried to befriend her, she tried, and Rhaenyra walked all over her, leaving her completely alone outside of Viserys, her father, and her children.

Alicent tried, time and time again to help Rhaenyra as well. she tried to give Rhaenyra a choice in her marriage, kept Viserys's temper calm with her, helped set up a grand tour with dozens of suitors for her to pick from, a good grace no noble girl, or any girl really, could ever dream of.

when Rhaenyra had her scandal with Daemon and Criston, she tried her hardest to protect her then, even when it hurt her to do so. she believed Rhaenyra when she lied to her, on her dead mothers name, making a fool of herself in front of Viserys. she proclaimed Rhaenyra's innocence only to find out she had not only lied, but from her prospective, she had slept with two men in one night, one of those times it was coerced (since she had no way of knowing Rhaenyra hadn't gone all the way with Daemon), and that while her father received punishment and was removed from KL (leaving her alone at court), Viserys still didn't believe her and sent her the tea.

that is a lot for one person to process, especially from someone they considered a close friend to do to them. to be treated with cruelty over a marriage she had no say in and was hurt by immensely, lied to, used, walked all over, and abandoned none the less? I would have hated her too.

Rhaenyra goes on to do whatever she wants at court, while Alicent suffers her fate of duty. she has bastards and proclaims them legitimate, showing she has yet to change whatsoever since that event, an event that has had a negative impact on Alicent's life. Viserys turns a blind eye to it, as he practically had with the scandal (cause a moon tea and a marriage is barely anything compared to the consequence's Rhaenyra should have faced. not wishing ill on Rhaenyra either, just saying the heir to the iron throne deserves a little more than a pat, not even a slap, on the wrist for that). she's angry, its understandable.

and yet, even through her anger, she keeps her temper. sure she speaks to Viserys and Cole about it, but thats her husband, Rhaenyra's father, and her sworn sword and seemingly only trusted friend. at court (especially prior to the time skip) she is amiable, if a little passive aggressive. she protect Rhaenyra's name more than she has to, is respectful when she doesn't have to, even keeps those around her to honor some level of repsect when it comes to Rhaenyra when she doesn't have to (namely calling Criston when he calls her a cunt).

when they usurp her, she orders no harm to come to Rhaenyra and stands up to her manipulative father after years of falling to his words, and orders that he follow her lead, because she doesn't want to hurt Rhaenyra if its not necessary.

will I say she was the kindest person in the whole wide world to Rhaenyra? never, that's laughable. will I say she was kinder, more respectful, and protected her more than Rhaenyra ever even attempted to be, let alone was towards her? 100% absolutely.

she never wanted to have a bad relationship with Rhaenyra, but one person can only take so much before they break. she couldn't try anymore, Rhaenyra made it clear that Alicent was nothing more than a means to an end for her, that she would step on her if she needed to. Alicent shouldn't be expected to put up with that.

she attempted to remain amiable over the years, to keep some semblance of peace within the house until Rhaenyra was a threat, which honestly would have most likely happened regardless, as we've seen, Rhaenyra will step over whoever it takes to keep her head above water, being friends probably would have doomed Alicent and her kids even faster.

Alicent was never the seed of the dance, Rhaenyra and Viserys were. Viserys allowed Rhaenyra to grow into the person she was, a person who sought self benefit with little care for the realm and her image, she doomed herself and Alicent was caught in the crossfire. to

expecting someone to kiss another person's feet, even after that person has kicked them into the dirt time and time again, when that person had even tried to grovel and make friends once more for years, only to blame them when they don't, when they pick themselves up out of the dirt and brush themselves off and act in their own (rightful) self interest, for a war that they never wanted and were merely a pawn in, is actually wild to me.

Alicent acted well in her own rights towards Rhaenyra and it brought her nothing but pain. she tried to be respectful and dutiful for the house and the courts sake and Rhaenyra only became more of a threat. she tried her best to protect her children, the kingdom, and rhaenyra, and was faced with war, the death of her children, and her own demise. one woman can only do and be so much, and its never enough.

and if you want to point out the ways Alicent could have been better, start pointing out the ways Rhaenyra could have been, cause her list is a lot longer. they both weren't perfect, but Alicent was forced into a life she did not ask for, given children to protect that went unloved and unwanted by their father, thrown into a conflict that had been building for years, and still tried, Rhaenyra made her own bed and refused to lay in it. one deserves more blame for the war than the other.

Edit: one thing I forgot to mention in both posts. Alicent stopped trusting Rhaenyra after her father was removed from court, rightfully so, cause she saw Rhaenyra would always get away with anything at the expense of others, and then years pass, so yeah, she wants Aegon to be king. is this wise or kind of her? I don't know, I think she's fucking earned it, we have 0 idea what has happened in those years inbetween, other than Rhaenyra having 3 bastards and claiming them as legitimate. I'd be pissed, I'd be scared (cause thats threat enough alone in my opinion), and I'd want to push my own legitimate children, especially if I had been at the but of Rhaenyra's behavior prior, I would not trust that situation to go anyway but belly up for me. if you disagree so be it, I'm not gonna convince anyone to change their minds on this specific scene. she told Aegon he would be king because despite not being a massive sore thumb of a threat, she's still, as a female heir with a firstborn son right behind her, a threat to her children nonetheless (cause politics, yippee, I don't like it but its true). she knew it would be Rhaenyra or her child, and she would always pick her son.

[shadowriel]

Nessian 10 days AU? 🫠

This fic is pure entertainment. I've been working on it on the side for 6 months now, and I'm at about 30k words (although it's minimally edited and needs to be flushed out). I do have it all roughly outlined though, and I'm so excited for when I finally let myself share it (which will probably be after I finish FRPO).

What can I say about it? We have sex columnist, workaholic "I’ll make him wish he never met me"  Nesta and playboy, commitment phobe "Maybe he’d give her a few orgasms for her troubles" Cassian. Think how to lose a guy in 10 days, but more unhinged, more smutty, more politically correct, and also more heartfelt.

Here's a longer snippet from chapter 4 (but bear with me, because I still need to edit it):

“Two weeks,” Rhysand repeated. “You have until then to have whoever I choose fall in love with you.”

His brother wasn’t making this easy, not in one bit.

“Who?” Cassian asked simply, just as Rhysand gaze shifted to look around them. 

Rhysand’s eyes darted over an incredibly attractive man, with dark, nearly black skin and a sensuous smile. Cassian would happily let that man love him any day. His brother momentarily watched a girl with short copper brown hair bring a glass to her lips as she laughed. Then Rhys was looking behind Cassian, lifting his chin as if pointing in that direction, saying a simple word:

“Her.”

Cassian quickly turned around in his chair, trying to find who exact Rhys was gesturing at across the dark bar. 

There were far too many women, so Rhysand clarified, “The one in black.”

Cassian’s eyes widened at the girl near the bar, in a black mini-dress, a hand stroking up her hips as she danced and tossed her blond hair back. Cassian would not mind spending the next week with her. His gaze was entirely fixed on her—she was fucking gorgeous.

There was a hand on his chin, stretched down from where Rhys now stood beside him. His brother pushed his head, guiding his gaze an inch to the left before pointing in that very same direction.

“I’m talking about her.”

Cassian’s gaze found the other woman in black, sitting on a high stool at the bar. Her golden-brown hair was braided in a crown around her head, almost regal in the dark clothing she wore—high waisted dress pants and a tight, lacy shirt. Even from the distance, he could just make out the dark shade of lipstick she wore, painting the frown on her lips to a near black. She lifted a clear glass filled halfway with an orange drink to her lips, staining the rim as she stared ahead of herself and took a sip.

“Morticia Addams?” Cassian asked, staring across the bar at the woman in disbelief. She was pretty, he had to admit, but not someone he’d ever pick for himself. “Buffy the Vampire Slayer?”

“Careful,” Azriel warned from behind him, voice low and just a bit teasing, “that's the future love of your life you’re talking about.”

Cassian bit back a laugh. As if.

She was simply the woman he’d spend the next two weeks with, getting to know well enough to have her falling in love with him. And maybe he’d give her a few orgasms for her troubles—more, if she was willing to let Cassian give them to her. She was simply a means to an ends, someone to help him ease the growing strain on his conscious that demanded he settle his most recent debt. Just this one since he could never hope to repay any of the rest.

Cassian straightened his shoulders, setting down his beer and making to stand.

“Two weeks?” he asked, shaking his head to psych himself up, leaving loose strands of his hair falling into his face.

“Or less,” Rhysand said, nearly taunting, “if you think you can manage it.”

Cassian didn’t say anything, not wanting to dig himself further into this hole. He kept his gaze fixed on his target, watching as her frown deepened into a scowl. He’d charmed countless people in his life, some only with a flirty smile and a dazzling look. He’d had people taking their clothes off before he’d even said a word, ready for the promise of fun he seemed to exude.

The woman at the bar looked like she could use some fun. Luckily, Cassian was ready to give it to her.

At long last, when he took a step towards her, he was grinning.

“She’s gonna eat him alive,” Azriel said from behind him.

Rhysand chuckled. “Without a doubt.”

[queenlucythevaliant]

See and Hear Everything Twice

(Or, How I attended a Taylor Swift concert with my sister in spite of my severe photosensitivity)

So as I indicated on this blog while we were sitting in traffic, I went to Taylor Swift's Eras Night 1 in Foxbourogh over the weekend.

"But Leah," I hear you saying, "How in the world did you manage that? Surely such a thing would liquify your poor, photosensitive brain! After all, twinkle lights have been known to give migraines before. Surely a stadium concert is a bad idea!"

Well. Yes. My sister went into the concert alone. I listened from outside the stadium.

My sister and I are long-time, vintage Swifties. We started out listening wearing grooves in the Fearless CD, and we've never let up. My sister and I are also night-and-day different in both our interests and dispositions, to the point where I've had friends ask, "But what do you do together?" And the answer to that is a lot of things, but "sing along to Taylor Swift" is definitely a big one.

I looked hard and was eventually able to get my sister a single ticket to Eras for her birthday (which has the added advantage of being substantially cheaper than two tickets together). The idea was that I would (a) become the Coolest Big Sister ever by making this happen for her and (b) be able to experience the whole thing secondhand. Both of us took that concept very seriously.

I don't know if you know it, but there's a Christmas story that we like in my family called "Why the Chimes Rang." Here's an excerpt:

"But I cannot bear to leave you, and go on alone," said Little Brother. "Both of us need not miss the service," said Pedro, "and it had better be I than you. You can easily find your way to the church; and you must see and hear everything twice, Little Brother - once for you and once for me."

My sister quoted this to me the morning of our concert and I can't describe what it meant to me. She saw and heard everything twice. Sitting outside the stadium (and wearing both the concert tees we bought on top of my regular clothes - it was a cold night), I got to hear the music that we grew up listening to together. More than that, in a lot of ways, it felt like my incredible little sister was sitting right next to me, like we were listening together. Really, it was kind of surreal.

I've long since made my peace with the idea that there are lots of things that my illness won't let me do. Yet it was really beautiful to be able to cross one impossible thing off that list this weekend, with some help from my sister.

I've waxed poetic enough, so I'm just gonna bullet point some of the details below for anyone who's interested:

The traffic on the way in wasn't terrible, but when we stopped at a rest stop for lunch the place was stuffed with Swifties in full concert apparel. A feeling of fun and camaraderie in the air.

The merch line was a good hour and forty five, but I was able to get a poster for the shadow box that my sister plans on making (she's crafty like that).

Everybody's outfits were NUTS. Lots of sequins, sparkling cowboy boots and hats, replicas on iconic T Swift looks, etc. One gal was dressed as the crumpled up piece of paper from "All Top Well."

Friendship bracelet swapping was SO fun. I spent the run up to the concert knotting bracelets and everyone I talked to seemed to think they were really cool!

There were probably 40-50 people hanging out by the stadium the night of our concert. Lots of folks were picnicking. There were these four little girls in identical concert sweatshirts there with someone's mom and they were having a grand time dancing and singing and oh boy was it infectious. You could hear all the music clearly from where I was, though probably only about 20% of the dialogue.

My highlights were probably the Fearless set (something buoyant in the air + truckloads of deep fondness), august into the illicit affairs double bridge (SHIVERS), 22 (a fave + fond moment with my sister over text), and the end of the 1989 set (high on the night and singing along).

Our surprise songs were "Should've Said No" and "Better Man." My sister sent me some genuine hall-of-fame texts as Taylor was announcing them. Both are firmly A-tier songs for which I have a lot of love. Also, we both found it funny that the Yeehaw Swifties won so big in Massachusetts, of all places.

The traffic getting out of Foxbourogh was horrific. We barely moved for the better part of two hours after getting back to the car.

After the concert, my sister came running when she found me and all but leapt into my arms. For all that I loved the music, that was the best part of the night.

[weepingfromacedartree]

Dancing Around the Truth: Chapter 6

Hi friends! Chapter 6 is now available!

Not to be dramatic but this chap was the most annoying thing I've ever written.

Enjoy!

Chapter 6: Saturday

A single ray of sunlight emerges into Prudence Featherington’s old bed chambers at approximately 6:05 AM on Saturday morning. It peeks through the window glass, hits the wooden floorboards, then creeps up the bedframe where Colin Bridgerton currently lays. His eyes are open and unblinking, trained on the ceiling above. Once the light ultimately reaches his eye, he takes it as a sign to finally move from the spot where he had laid awake all night. 

For the first time that week, his feet do not immediately lead him in the direction of the sage green door. Instead, he walks towards the staircase at the other end of the hall. 

“Anne.” He finds her standing over a kettle in the kitchen. “Did you receive any word from the delivery boy?” 

“Apologies, sir. The boy reported there was a delay with the doctor yesterday. He set out again this morning before dawn.” 

“That’s fine. Thank you, Anne.”

Fingernails biting into the skin of his palm, Colin parts from the maid. His feet carry him out the front door. 

⚘  ⚘  ⚘

Colin stands stuck against a wall. There’s a paper gripped in his left hand, likely too crumpled now for the words to be distinguishable. There are voices filtering in through the crack in the door to his right, but the sounds are incomprehensible. There’s a storm swarming in his mind, but the sheer volume of thoughts and his lack of sleep makes it difficult for him to focus on any one thing. Until he hears the familiar sound of footsteps. 

He doesn’t move when Scott exits Penelope’s room. It feels as though his jacket has been plastered into the wall behind him. He can only turn his head. 

Scott does not look up from his papers when he speaks.

“As I’m sure you are already aware, Miss Featherington’s condition has not changed since I left here the day before last.”

“Her fever was rising and she required more antipyretic. The medicine, I remind you, was —”

“The boy returned here while you were across town throwing me into a carriage.” The doctor’s eyes keep flicking between Colin and the papers in his hands. “The antipyretic is already improving her temperature. As one would expect from such a medicine.” 

This should bring about a sigh of relief from Colin’s lips, but it doesn’t. He doesn’t have the breath left in him. 

“In the future, just send the delivery boy to do your bidding. No need for these dramatics.” 

Before walking away, the doctor’s face softens. Slightly. 

“Colin, this is the third examination I’ve performed on the girl this week. I doubt Penelope enjoys being prodded this repeatedly. As I keep saying, above all else, the girl needs her rest.” 

Above all else. The doctor’s words ring in Colin’s ears long after the man exits down the hall. 

Breath absent from his lungs, Colin finally uncrinkles the paper in his hands. He was wrong about the words. They’re clear enough to read when he unfolds the pages. 

Lord Jeremy Michaelson passed on Thursday, the 24th of August, from complications

Just like that, the paper is crumpled into a ball again. It now presides somewhere out of sight down the hallway. Colin’s back stays stuck to the wall as the rest of his body drops to the floor. 

When they had spoken of Michaelson on the night of the Queen’s ball, Colin had perceived the man as a threat. For a fleeting moment, Colin had worried that the lord would take Penelope away from him for good. But just as soon as those fears arose, they were gone. Her voice had reassured him. 

I am not going to marry him, Colin.

She sounded so confident then. Now, Colin sits stock still in a slump on the floor and wonders if he will feel certain of anything ever again. 

That season, he had towed the line between social rights and social wrongs. In the past few days, he has spent his time teetering on the edge of two opposing forces. — different than wrong and right, but just as critical. Propriety and necessity? Fortitude and despair? Life and death? He can’t name it for certain, but whatever it was, the edge has since disappeared and left him falling. 

For the first time since walking through the Featheringtons’ door Tuesday morning, Colin cries. Four days worth of tears spring from his eyes. They flow down his cheeks and pool in his open mouth as he gasps for air. It’s awful. It was inevitable. And like all things, eventually, it ends. 

Slowly, his eyes blink away the remaining tears. His mouth shuts and air flows from his nose to his lungs. His nails unclench from the skin of his palms. When it seems like his body has returned to a state of relative normalcy, he hears his name called out from somewhere far away. Like a siren beckoning for him. 

“Colin.”

Not a siren. It’s Penelope — of course — drifting through the crack in the door beside him. She’s not far away. Her voice was simply muffled by the wall that separates their bodies. 

Quicker than he thought his body capable, Colin is back standing inches away from the sage green door. He starts to question if it’s necessary for him to knock, but then she calls out again. 

“You can come in.” 

The instant that they lock eyes, he observes an unmistakable look of worry on her face. For him or herself, he is not sure. 

“Hi,” Penelope says as he sits in his familiar spot by her side. Her voice is soft.

“Hi,” he says back. He’s about to launch into the apology he’s been crafting in his mind for hours, but pauses when he sees Penelope take a breath. 

“I have to apologize for my reaction yesterday evening.” 

“I’m the one who should be apologizing,” Colin shoots back quickly, taken aback by her words. “You had every right to be upset with me.”

“Perhaps, but I understand why you chose to conceal that particular truth from me. After all — what was it that Dr. Scott said?” She looks up, searching her brain for the right words. When it seems like she may have lost them, Colin clears his throat. 

“Hope is a powerful placebo.” Penelope nods her head, a confusing, downturned smile gracing her lips. 

Colin’s heartbeat rattles in his brain. He’s about to speak again, but she beats him to it. 

“And I am certainly in no position to cast judgment on another for keeping secrets.” 

“This is nothing like —” Colin glances over his shoulder to ensure that Anne has not magically appeared in the doorway once again. “Lady Whistledown,” he whispers. “This secret concerned your well being. You deserved to know that you contracted an illness from —” 

A dead man, he was about to say. Thankfully, Penelope cuts him off. 

“I know the circumstances are different. But I also know the toll that keeping secrets takes on a person. Especially when you’re keeping them from the people you care about most.” Then, more quietly: “I know it could not have been an easy secret for you to keep.” 

“Still,” he draws out the sound, stalling to allow his brain to catch up. “Will you at least afford me the grace to apologize? For my own conscience?” His sleep-deprived mind could be playing tricks on him, but it almost looks like she rolls her eyes at him.

“Go ahead.” 

“I’m sorry for not informing you of Michaelson’s death right away.” He can’t help himself when he follows the apology with a question. “Do you forgive me?” It’s the question he’s wanted to ask her for six months.

“Of course.” Any annoyance or amusement is absent from her eyes as she gazes at him. “Do you forgive me for how I acted last night?” 

His first instinct is to reminder her that she need not apologize for such a thing, but he knows that this conversation can circle around forever if he doesn’t end it now. So instead, he answers truthfully. 

“Always.” 

When a brief silence falls between them, Colin clears his throat. He asks the question he meant to ask her several minutes ago. 

“How are you feeling this morning?” 

“Oh — much better, actually. I suppose the doctor’s advisement on hope was bollocks after all.”

Colin cannot help but snort. “I knew that quack was a fatwit.” In the back of his mind, he adds “improper speech” to the long list of etiquette rules that he has broken with Penelope. 

“In fact…” She leans over and grabs the book sitting on her bedside table. “I am feeling so much better, in fact, that I will assume narration duties for today.” 

If he was not so exhausted, Colin probably would have sprung from his spot to pry the novel from her fingers. But in his current state, all he can manage is a reflexive hand twitch and a defensive: “No, I —” 

Colin stops speaking and expels a breath. He re-thinks his words. 

“I am very glad to hear that you are feeling better, but the only way for you to make fully recover is by allowing your body to rest. Let me read.” At this, Penelope raises a single brow. 

“I am feeling quite rested at the moment. Can you say the same?” 

Colin does not respond, knowing a rhetorical question when he hears one. Nothing escapes Penelope’s notice, he reminds himself. 

“Just one chapter. It will give my lungs some much needed exercise.” She pulls the green scrap of fabric from the pages and turns to where Colin had left off two days prior. They had just started Volume Three — the ultimate volume — when Penelope had fallen asleep. Before all hell had broken loose. 

“Fine,” Colin says, settling a bit deeper into his seat. “One chapter.”

“Elizabeth had settled it that Mr. Darcy would bring his sister to visit her the very day after her reaching Pemberley…” 

She reads on, but doesn’t make it to the end of the chapter. Her words are interrupted by the sound of Colin snoring. 

⚘  ⚘  ⚘

In his dreams, Colin smells of something sweet. When he opens his eyes, he sees Penelope eating a biscuit. 

“Good morning,” she says between bites, a hint of sarcasm to her voice. As Colin blinks, his eyes adjust to the light around him — soft and warm, like a late, late afternoon in August. He glances at the clock sitting atop Penelope’s desk to confirm his suspicion. 

“You let me sleep through the entire day?” 

“You required the rest. Clearly.” She picks up another biscuit from the platter, then leans over to place it in his palm. “Not even the aroma of fresh food could rouse you.” 

Colin raises the pastry to his lips. He feels it brush against his tongue and empty into his stomach. The dough is sweet. Saccharine. But that sweetness does not offset the sour sensation brewing in his gut. 

Colin thinks of his purpose in being in this very room — to protect Penelope — and how the two of them have seemingly swapped roles at some point that day. He thinks of —

No. He pushes away those thoughts as he plops the rest of the biscuit into his mouth. He knows that if he spoke those words aloud, Penelope would object them to death. 

He would rather gaze upon a smug face than a cross one. 

Once another biscuit is secured in his hand, Colin gestures to the novel laying on the pillow beside Penelope. 

“Did I sleep through anything of note?” 

“Elizabeth just challenged Wickham to a duel over Lydia’s honor. Hopefully her sword is as sharp as her wit.”

“Pen!” He nearly chokes on the biscuit in his mouth. 

“I only jest,” she says, laughing lightly. “I would not dream of carrying on without you.”

Any distaste left in Colin’s stomach is long forgotten. 

“Hmm… Well, did you at least have a restful day while your loud, long-winded distraction laid unconscious?” He thought this would earn him another laugh, but her smile drops completely. 

“You’re not a —” She weaves her hand through her flowing, somewhat tangled red locks as she breathes out a sigh. “I have spent all day — nearly the entire week — between these sheets. Yes, I would say that I am quite rested.” Colin can feel his lips twist together as she speaks. Her tone of voice sounds quite restless to him.

“The rest is helping though, isn’t it? You’re starting to feel better?” 

It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room in the brief moment it takes for Penelope to respond. She already stated that she is feeling better. She certainly appears that way on the outside — at least compared to the girl who threw up on his loafers or stared up at him unconsciously only a few mornings prior. But compared to the bright-eyed, healthful girl he’s known his entire life…

“I am.” 

“Good.” And he means it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows that Penelope getting better also means getting closer and closer to him returning home. To Bridgerton House. And, potentially, returning to the people they used to be to one another. But as much as those thoughts dismay him, they are nothing compared to the joy he feels witnessing Penelope’s health improve. 

“Since we are both quite well, I feel it is time that we finally discuss the matter at hand.”

“The matter at —”

“Whistledown.”

Colin stares at her a moment, trepidation crawling up his skin. When she had agreed to delay this conversation yesterday, he thought that they were under the shared assumption that it would be postponed until she was fully recovered. Until he was no longer taking residence under her roof and in her mint green armchair. 

“I am feeling quite tired, all of a sudden,” he murmurs, crossing his arms over his chest and shutting his eyes tight. They open with a start when a biscuit collides with his shoulder. 

“I am serious, Colin.”

He takes a small bite into the delicacy as he rises to sit upright. “As am I.” 

Now or never, he supposes. 

“Just tell me how you really feel. Please.”

“What do you mean?”

Penelope lets out an exasperated sigh. In fairness, it was a rather straight forward request on her end. But nothing about this conversation feels certain to Colin. And it hasn’t even really begun.

“Yesterday, you acted as if this matter is of no importance to you, but I know better than anyone that you have a stake here. That you have grievances with Whistledown. With — with me. Please, just —”

“I never claimed to be unaffected,” Colin interrupts, already displeased with the direction of the conversation. “Of course I have a stake here. Of course this is important to me. But frankly, I don’t see the urgency in discussing your double life now. Here —” He briefly stops ranting to raise his hands in gesture to the room around them, as if there was any confusion on his point. “When you should be focused on recovering from your illness.” 

“Keeping this secret from you for three seasons has been difficult, even when we were not spending every waking minute by each other’s side. Continuing to ignore the subject now, here —” She points to the limited distance between the two of them. “It tempts madness. And I have told you that I am feeling better. Do you not trust me?” 

Colin takes a moment to study the girl sitting across from him. She’s sitting even straighter than he is. After a week without direct sunlight, her usual freckles are nearly invisible against the pallor of her skin. Her cheeks are still red, but no longer glowing with intense fever. If anything, she looks red with panic. Her eyes are the color of the morning sky, as always, but they appear cloudy with desperation. 

For a brief second, Colin’s mind flashes back to their conversation yesterday. 

Are you angry with me? 

She had been so quick to assume that he harbored nothing but resentment for her and her secret. Knowing his sister and the quickness with which she had dropped her dearest friend from her life, Colin can imagine where that assumption came from. 

“It is difficult for me to explain my thoughts on the matter. Although I have had my suspicions a long while, even now I struggle to consolidate my dearest friend with the most infamous columnist in London. My view on the situation is too complex to summarize with a single word. But I promise you, even if I tried to name it, ‘anger’ would not do my feelings justice.” Less dramatically this time, Colin raises his hands. “I would not be stuck to your side like a loyal pup this week if it did.”

Penelope temporarily looks at a loss for words. 

“Please do not compare yourself to a dog,” she finally manages to get out. 

A snicker escapes Colin’s mouth before he can stop it. He’s impressed that his self-deprecation was the only issue she raised to his appeal.

“I would not hold your anger against you, if you do possess it. Even if it is only a small part of whatever it is that you are feeling now.” Her hands are clasped together in her lap, fingers intertwining together and apart in anxious motion. Colin’s fingers sink into the armrests on either side of him, holding back the urge to latch onto Penelope’s and settle her nervous energy. “After everything I have written and published, I dare say every man and woman of the Ton bears that right.” 

“That’s a tad bit dramatic.”

“Perhaps, but I —”

“Do you regret it?” 

It’s not a question Colin had planned to ask. It slipped from his lips before his brain could catch up. Judging from the startled look adorning Penelope’s face, it was not a question she had expected to be asked. 

After some consideration, Penelope asks: “Which part, exactly?”

Slowly, cautiously, Colin clarifies: “The things you have written. And published.”

She’s avoiding his eye so aggressively that he worries she will avoid his question altogether. That she’ll go silent, like she did so many months before. Then, after a few measly seconds, she answers.

“When I started Whistledown, I swore to myself that I would never publish anything untrue. That if I wrote of someone’s actions, I would simply be shining a light on the person hiding below the surface, not making them out to be someone they are not. I thought that if I upheld that promise, I could escape any guilt born from my writing  — from the scandals I have touched. That promise remains unbroken, but…” Finally, she looks him in the eye again. “I regret how I handled certain situations.” 

There’s a lump in Colin’s throat that threatens to render him completely silent. It stops him from asking the obvious question. 

“Like ending your engagement with Marina.”

“Pen —” 

“I don’t regret revealing that truth — you deserved to know it. It’s just that I should have done it earlier. Differently.” Her fingers are starting to turn a bright shade of pink with the constant motion. “I should have told you outright, instead of hiding behind my column. It should have come from me, not Whistledown.”

“Well, it —” 

“It’s just — at the time — I truly believed that publishing it was the only option. That if I had gone to you directly and you had ended the engagement quietly, that the story would grow and twist out of either of our control. That when Marina’s pregnancy eventually — inevitably — would become known to the rest of the Ton, that they would cast you as the father.”

“Perhaps —”

“But now I realize that it was a justification — a means to distract my guilty conscience. That I was scared. Scared that you would tell Marina, directly or not, who your source was and that I would punished for it.” 

After minutes of breathless speech, Penelope stops. Colin is tempted to use the silence to finally say something for himself on the matter, but he holds his tongue. Something in her eye tells him that she is not quite done. 

“Or that you would kill the messenger. That you would hate me for telling you the truth. I couldn’t bear the thought, so I hardly entertained it. I convinced myself that Whistledown was the only option, and I let her take my blame.” 

“Pen, I could never —” 

“And clearly I did not learn, for I made the same mistake with your sister the very next season. When the Queen threatened her, I —”

“What?!” It’s the first interjection that Penelope seems to hear, because she finally stops. A look of horror passes on her face. 

“You did not know that part of the story.” She runs a hand over her forehead, slumps back into her pillows a bit. “Of course you didn’t.” 

“No. I certainly did not.” 

He didn’t know any part of this story. Everything he thought he knew had been pieced together through overheard conversations, Whistledown columns, and other remnants of Penelope and Eloise’s broken friendship. None of that evidence ever pointed to Queen Charlotte threatening his little sister. 

“When? Why?” 

“At the end of last season. The Queen was desperate to unmask Whistledown and she decided it was your sister. She said that if Eloise did not confess, she would ruin her and her — um, your — family. So Eloise was going to confess.”

“That is… unsettling,” he says, although he suspects that the full gravity of her words have yet to really hit him. 

“I tried to convince her that lying to the Queen would only result in a far worse fate, but she wouldn’t listen. I wanted to protect her. I thought it was my duty — not just as her friend, but as the true culprit behind the Queen’s hunt.” Penelope’s eyes are trained on the floor, unblinking. It looks as though there are tears threatening to break free if those blue eyes ever shut. 

“I told myself that if Whistledown were to write something negative about Eloise, that the Queen would give up her suspicions.”

A single tear stains the white of her sheet. She covers the spot with her hand. Colin is too stunned to lean forward and offer her any comfort.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of her being ruined because of me. So I let Whistledown ruin her. At the time, I truly believed I was saving her.” 

Penelope raises her fingers to quickly dry her eyes. Once they fall back into her lap, she opts to clutch onto the top sheet, rather than continuing to wring her hands together. She dares to look him in the eye again, but Colin suspects his own face is rather hard to read. 

He knew this conversation would disrupt the suspicions, beliefs, and facts he had solidified in his head during the months that he spent in exile. But he did not expect to feel so lost in all of it. 

He tries to ground himself in reality by focusing on just one thing. One fact. One question. 

“Is that why you publish such awful things about yourself? To avoid suspicion?”

“Pardon?” Her voice is tinged equally with confusion and incredulity, clearly taken aback by his question.

“Every time your name has been mentioned in that column, it was through an insult. Your clothing, your hair —”

“I would hardly say —”

“— your family, your —”

“Yes, Colin, I have to describe myself as the Ton sees me. As they see my family. If I wrote any differently, the Queen would —” 

There is so much information in Colin’s brain, bouncing around between his left ear and right, that it makes it difficult for him to hear anything. The Queen’s threat. Marina’s lie. Eloise’s secret. Penelope’s justifications. It’s all driving him a bit mad. 

“I could never hate you, Pen.” He interrupts again, answering a question she didn’t even bother to ask. He decides that if Penelope can unload her truth on him, he can do the same. “Truly, in my heart, I don’t believe I possess the ability. But I have to admit, there were times I hated Whistledown for the things she wrote about you.” 

She takes a moment to respond. 

“We are one and the same, in case you have forgotten. Whistledown and I.” 

“You know what I —”

“And after everything I’ve published on your family, I find it hard to believe that a few jokes comparing my attire to a variety of citruses could be the only source of your hatred.” 

He thinks about holding his tongue, but struggles to find much point in that now. 

“Do you really wish to know my thoughts on such matters?” 

Penelope nods. The look on her face does not look so sure, but Colin tries not to read too much into it. 

“No one was innocent in that doomed affair. Not Marina. Not I. Not you. What you published through Whistledown was undeniably reckless… But I understand why you did it. I was not thinking rationally those days, either — I nearly eloped with someone I didn’t know at all, for God’s sake.”

“Colin —”

“I do not blame you for making a mistake when there were no good options in sight. Selfishly, I am glad you made that mistake over doing nothing at all. I am glad Marina and I never wed, just as I am glad she could marry Phillip Crane without the weight of deceit hanging over their union. And though I am immensely grateful for someone telling me the truth, I am sorry that burden somehow fell on your shoulders. It should not have been.”

Penelope’s eyes grow wider as he speaks, as if she can’t quite believe his words. She does not immediately accept or reject them, though. Her mouth remains closed. 

“As for Eloise… I do not have nearly as much stake or insight into that matter. But I will say that my sister was far from ruined after that article was published. She turned down two proposals this seasons, for God’s sake.”

“Perhaps —”

“But at least when you exposed Marina’s and Eloise’s secrets, you did not take such careful consideration to turn them into a joke, themselves. The way that Whis — you write of yourself… From the perspective of someone who happens to care for you very much, it seems unjustly cruel.” 

“I explained how it is justified. Are you even listening to me?” While her eyes remain somewhat weary, her voice rises to anger with every syllable. 

“Is that truly how you think the Ton views you?”

“My God, Colin! If that is even a question, I don’t believe you know me at all.” 

“Don’t say that.” His speech is low, controlled, but he recognizes anger in his own voice as he speaks. It has never been present when conversing with Penelope before. Ever.

“How do you think I am able to exist as Whistledown? It is remarkably easy to overhear one’s secrets when they don’t realize that another is listening. Even when they see me, it is as if I am literally growing into the background behind them. No one knows Penelope Featherington. They only know the wallflower in lemon dresses.” 

“I know Penelope Featherington.” 

Colin watches as the anger seems to drain from her face, brows relaxing and lips parting ever so slightly. She stares at him. 

“Yes, well, I suppose you do become quite familiar with a person after they vomit at your feet.”

Despite the sourness still stewing in his stomach, Colin can’t help but chuckle. 

“And they were my favorite loafers.”

Penelope laughs in turn. It’s quiet. Reassuring. Until she opens her mouth again. 

“Are you angry that I kept this secret from you for so long?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Clearly, you harbor some resentment over the things I have written… But the secret itself?”

He considers the question. 

“I’ll admit, it is a bit… disheartening to know that there was such a large part of your life that I was not privy to for so long.” The image of Penelope standing below him on the Queen’s steps flashes before him. “But I suppose there were many aspects of your life that I was unaware of during the course of our friendship.” 

A look of pure panic passes on Penelope’s face. “I —”

“Apologies,” Colin interjects earnestly. “I don’t say that to be rude. I just meant… I feel as though I only knew one version of you before. I am glad to be getting a fuller image of you now.” 

When Penelope does not immediately respond, an unreadable expression on her face, Colin keeps going. The silence around them is beginning to feel antagonistic. 

“But if you wish to know what distresses me most about this situation, I would have to say that it is the danger you put yourself in every time you publish one of those columns.” Colin presses his back against the cushion and raises his palm to his forehead. “Which is certainly not helped by the knowledge that the Queen directly threatened Eloise because she suspected that she was… Well, you.” 

He was speaking truthfully, not intending to hurt her feelings with that last comment. But the look on her face tells him that he involuntarily succeeded in doing so. 

“I’m not sure if this will help quell your worries, but it appears that the Queen’s endeavor to unmask Whistledown has lost steam ever since she disqualified Eloise as a candidate.”

“Hmm…” Colin hums disapprovingly. “And why do you so confidently believe that England’s most powerful woman is no longer chasing after you?”

“I don’t know if ‘confident’ is the word I would use… But as you know, I spent much time with Lady Danbury over the past few months. During our conversations, I —”

“Gathered intel on the Queen? I knew you had to possess an ulterior motive to keep up so many conversations with her.”

“I happen to like Lady Danbury, Colin. She is a far better companion than the Ton gives her credit for. Gathering ‘intel’ was an unplanned perk of our friendship.” Colin is about to ask if she was willing to lose a few toes to Danbury’s cane in the venture, but Penelope continues on. 

“As I was saying, I gained some additional insight into the Queen’s private life through Danbury. And it seems that, at some point after threatening Eloise last year, her interests have turned elsewhere.” 

“And where have they turned to?” Colin asks, when Penelope does not offer up any more of said intel. 

“Politics, heirs, flowers… Does it matter, as long as her sights are not set on me?” 

Colin groans. “Penelope, you sound far too flippant on a matter as serious as this.”

“I am not being flippant. I just cannot spend time worrying about those details. The Queen is not hunting me, that is what matters.” 

Colin groans. Again.

“How do you know that for certain? I find it hard to believe that Danbury would  disclose the Queen’s private endeavors outright.” 

“Wallflowers make for exceptional listeners, I remind you. Unassuming bodies to unload unwanted information on. Easily forgotten listeners, picking up secrets others don’t know they’re letting go of.”

“Right,” Colin nearly whispers, wondering what secrets he may have accidentally slipped to her throughout the years. 

He wants to protest her continued wallflower remarks, understanding how that label has wounded her over the years, but he fears that she has a point. Instead of offering her some semblance of a response, Colin finds himself recalling moments they stole on the outskirts of a ball or in the shadows of a garden. 

He has always found Penelope a uniquely easy person to converse with. It hurts his heart to think that that could have been due to a secret talent, rather than the connection they shared. 

“I understand why you worry.” Her face looks slightly more sympathetic now. Successfully or not, she’s attempting to lower her defenses around him. Around this subject. “But after three years, I must admit that it does not feel so dangerous to me now. If anything, it feels untenable.”

“Untenable?” he echos, not quite understanding her meaning. 

“With Eloise — and now you — knowing the truth… I am more aware than ever before that Whistledown will end one day. That I will not be able to keep up this act forevermore. My column can only exist for as long as I am able to retain my anonymity. The more people know my secret, the harder it is for me to keep it from the rest of the Ton. That is why I always wanted — needed to keep it for myself.” 

“Surely you can see the danger in what you just said. If I could figure it out, anyone can. Is it worth risking your honor, biding time until the wrong person discovers you?”  

“I am careful. I have always been careful.”

“No matter how careful you are, there is risk, Penelope. Surely, you know that.” 

“You must take risks in order to make your way in this world. If you are unwilling to fight for what you believe in, you stand to gain nothing at all.” 

It is far from an uncommon occurrence, but Penelope’s words strike him cold. They take him back to a moment two springs ago, conversing in a garden on the tail of a failed wedding ceremony. They leave him speechless, in spite of the question creeping up his throat.

“How did you figure it out?” she asks him. Still feeling somewhat speechless, Colin rises his brow in response. 

“How did you come to the conclusion that I am Lady Whistledown?” she clarifies. “Eloise caught on eventually, although I’m still somewhat confounded by how, since she refuses to even speak to me on the matter. So…” 

“I told you,” he finally says, an air of humor to his voice. “Twas a plant pun that did it.” 

Penelope laughs lightly and, despite everything, Colin is happy to see the guilt wash off her face, even if it is just for a second. 

“Excuse me if I require more context to grasp your meaning.”

He tells her everything. The plant pun. The Marina column. Eloise’s simultaneous grudge with Whistledown and fight with her best friend. The pattern that emerged when he started connecting all of those points together. 

“When I finally took notice, I felt foolish for not realizing it all sooner.”

Penelope’s eyes are wide. They had grown wider with every bit of information he revealed. 

“I did not think you took such careful consideration of my letter-writing. Or that you would be able to recall such details after so long.”

“Well I did. Take consideration, that is. I didn’t commit every correlation to memory, of course, but I found myself going back to our letters during that period when we rarely spoke. That is when the pattern solidified.”

Not surprisingly, Penelope looks dumbfounded. 

“You kept my letters?” Her voice is soft. Unbelieving.

“Foolish as it may sound, I kept them as a written remembrance of my time in Greece,” he admits, a misplaced sense of shame in his stomach as he says it. From here on out, he would keep any letter from Penelope sacred, just for the knowledge that she had taken the time and consideration to put words to a page for him. But he had not been so intuitive when he had stashed those letters away in Greece. Thankfully, Penelope does not seem to share this sense of shame. She smiles. 

“Collecting my own letters surely would have done a better job of it, but I suppose that is the greatest pitfall of letter-writing. Your words are not yours to keep.” 

She laughs again. Music to his ears. 

“Perhaps you should endeavor to procure a writing journal on your next trip.” She looks away from him to glance around her room. “If you manage to make it out of England again.” 

Colin feels himself suppressing a smile when he thinks of the similarities between Penelope and himself. Suddenly feeling as though the room around them has become too comfortable, he clears his throat. 

“I agree that your secret is untenable, but I uphold that it is equally as dangerous. If I can figure it out, anyone can.” 

“Must I remind you that no one in the Ton notices me?”

“I —”

“Present company excluded. You and Eloise were the only two people that I ever let my guard down when speaking to — or writing to — and it took you both at least two years to notice Whistledown slipping through my cracks. Don’t act as though I’m dangling my identity out in the open for anyone to discover.” 

“No matter how careful you are, you can make a mistake. Anyone can.” 

“But no one else can be Lady Whistledown. I cannot give it up to a possibility. I can only do everything in my power to prevent that possibility from happening.” 

“You just said that this venture is untenable,” he shoots back, pleading to his voice. 

“And I will hold onto it for as long as I am able.” 

When silence falls between them yet again, Colin recalls what Penelope had stated just a few minutes prior. 

You must take risks in order to make your way in this world.

“So Whistledown is worth it to you? It’s worth this risk?” 

She nods. 

“Of course it is. It’s all I have.”

“Pen.” He hates the sorrow in his voice as he draws out the nickname that has become so familiar to him over the years. But he hates her implication more.  

“I have a voice through Whistledown. I have the means to secure my own income. I have the strength to carry on through the mundanity of life, through broken friendships or the glare of my mama. I have a —” 

“A purpose,” he finishes for her. It’s like he’s back in the Queen’s garden, discussing such matters with Penelope on the tail of Anthony and Edwina’s disrupted nuptials. Despite the clarity of the memory, it feels like another lifetime now. 

“Yes.” She says simply, not looking all too surprised that he was able to finish her sentence. “Have you discovered yours yet?”

“A purpose?” 

She nods her head. All he can do is shake his own in response.

“I always imagined that your purpose would come from your travels.”

“I don’t know about that,” he counters, deflection heavy on his tongue.

“The way you always spoke of your time —” 

“I fear that I have a tendency to overlook the negatives of traveling. To only shine a light on the positive,” he says dismissively. After many months of reflection on the subject, his travels have become a point of contention in his own mind. He almost feels jealous that Penelope can speak of them so lightly. “And besides, I always imagined that my purpose would be driven by what I can give to the world, not what I can take from it.” 

“You don’t only speak of the positives,” she insists. “Just two days ago, you told me about all of your experiences in Venice, not just the good.”

“You remember all of that?” He had assumed that those details had gotten lost in the haze of opium.

“Unfortunately, I remember the entire night in excruciating detail.” 

“Pen —”

“I’m sorry, truly, that I did not respond to any of your letters from Italy. Believe me, it was not due to lack of interest or any flaw in your writing. I have always cherished you sharing those stories with me; it’s like experiencing a little bit of the outside world myself, even when I am stuck in the confines of my bed chambers.” 

Her words open up something in his chest, like a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in. It’s difficult to name the emotion bubbling up inside him, so he pushes forward. 

“Please, do not apologize. I know why you did not respond to those letters. I would never dream of holding it against you. I’m lucky that you ever lent me your ear to drone on about my travels in the first place.”

“Colin,” she says with a hint of sternness to her voice. “I am serious. I looked forward to reading your letters. Every single one. Not just because of our friendship — I didn’t read them as a favor to you, but because I enjoyed reading them. I believe I liked them so much because I could sense that you enjoyed writing them.”

“How do you mean?” It’s the sole coherent question he can manage to come up with. His brain is suddenly a jumble of confusion, anxiety, and hope. And it is not as if he was clear-headed when the conversation was focused solely on Whistledown. 

“The way that you describe your experiences — it’s like you’re putting the reader exactly in your place in the moment. I can tell that you do not simply write to pass time or as a means to hold on to a memory. That you like the writing process itself. You must.” 

Those last two words are not phrased as a question, but the look on her face tells him that she’s expecting an answer. A confirmation. But the only thing Colin can offer right now is an interim silence.

In truth, he’s barely thought about the process of writing until this very moment. It was just something he did. To pass the time. To keep record. To feel close to someone an ocean away. But for some reason, he finds that he cannot outright deny her assumption.

Penelope must sense that he does not have a response for her yet, so she carries on. 

“Your purpose will not come easily. It should challenge you, push you to be the best version of yourself. It can be selfish, coming from a place of internal satisfaction or a luxury that most people are not lucky enough to enjoy. But if it allows you to share those experiences — the emotions you felt when you experienced them yourself — I think that would be a noble pursuit, indeed.” 

He does not know what to say. Even if he had not consciously considered it before, Penelope’s words bring clarity to thoughts and feelings he’s buried down for so long. Joy, in something as simple as finding the exact right word to slot into a sentence. Inadequacy, whenever he found himself comparing his writing to that of the greats. Jealousy, discovering Penelope’s secret legacy and success. 

Not for the first time, Colin wonders if Penelope knows him better than he knows himself. 

“Is that how you feel when writing your column?” he finally manages to ask. 

She considers his question. “I don’t know if I would describe my purpose as ‘noble,’ but it does fulfill me. I am proud of what I have accomplished.” 

“I am —”

Penelope coughs, completely throwing his mind off track. The last hour or so has been a reprieve from the symptoms that have been plaguing her (and plaguing him mentally) for the past six days. He had almost forgotten the reason for him being in that very room. 

“Are you well?” He asks as he grabs for and subsequently hands Penelope the nearest teacup. 

“Mhmm,” she hums as she raises the cup to her lips. Although she can easily reach the table beside her, Colin takes the empty cup from her hands and places it down himself. Voice now clear, Penelope speaks again. 

“I kept your letters, too. Even the ones from Italy. They’re yours, if you want them back.”

“No,” Colin answers immediately, surprising himself with the quickness in which he’s able to push past her confession. At the beginning of the season, he had imagined Penelope throwing all of his letters into a fire, unopened. 

“I wrote those letters to you. They are yours to keep.”

“Colin —”

“If I seriously want to pursue this as my purpose, I believe it would be wise to begin by writing something just for myself.” 

A smile appears on her face. “I think that would be wise, indeed.” 

After a moment of comfortable silence, Colin remembers what he was about to say, before her cough returned. 

“I am proud of you, too. I may disagree with some of the content you have published and worry for your continued safety, but I cannot deny what an impressive feat you have accomplished for yourself.” 

When a single tear falls from Penelope’s eye and rolls down her cheek, Colin does not hesitate to lean over and wipe it away. When his thumb lingers on her skin after the job is done, she pries it off gently and rests his hand on the bed between them. He can’t help but take notice of her fingers lingering on his a few more seconds than strictly necessary. 

“Sorry,” she whispers through an embarrassed half-laugh. 

“Don’t be sorry.” 

Despite gravity seeming to shift and pull his body towards Penelope’s, Colin forces his back into the chair. 

“So… What now?” 

“Dinner.” 

“Dinner?” He repeats back in slight confusion. It’s the first time in Colin’s life that he has not immediately jumped at the chance of procuring a meal. 

“It is nearly dark outside and you have barely eaten a biscuit all day. There is —” 

“I ate three, actually.”

“— no point in you falling ill and having us repeat this cycle over again.” 

Colin smirks. “Pen… Are you saying you would voluntarily sit by my side like a pup for a week if I were to fall ill?”

Penelope shoots him a glare, although Colin suspects that she is desperately trying to hold back a smirk from her own lips. 

“Ring for Anne. Tell her I am in desperate need of more biscuits to throw.” 

⚘  ⚘  ⚘

"Oh! thoughtless, thoughtless Lydia!" cried Elizabeth when she had finished it.

Colin glances away from the book in his hand to sneak a peak at the girl laying in bed before him. He was expecting to receive some positive reinforcement for his enthusiastic recitation through the look on Penelope’s face, but alas, she does not appear to be paying attention at all anymore. 

She is not quite asleep, but her eyelids are fluttering — threatening hibernation. 

“Pen,” he barely whispers, leaning forward to lightly touch the hand closest to him. Her eyes remain fluttering, but her fingers reflexively curve into his. 

“Hmm?”

“It’s late, you should go to bed.” 

“I’m in bed,” she murmurs, barely audible. He releases a tiny breath of a laughter from his throat. Then, Penelope’s eyes open. Focus on his. 

“You should sleep as well.” 

“I will, I —” 

“In the next door over.” 

The last thing he wants to do is leave her side, but logic tells him that he is in no position to deny, or even protest, her request. They are not married. She does not appear to be in serious danger. If she needs the space, he will grant it. 

What’s one wall between them, anyway?

“Of course.” Despite his willingness to accept her request, he makes no attempt to disguise the disappointment in his voice as he does so. 

“But Colin.” She lifts her head from her pillow, an edge of worry to her voice. “You will sleep tonight, won’t you?” 

It’s not an easy reassurance for him to grant her. Not truthfully, at least. Although the bed he laid in last night was certainly more comfortable than the armchair he sits in now, sleep had not come to him then. He had been unable to rest with Penelope out of his sight, always on his mind. All night, he had laid awake with worry. But now… 

She has forgiven him for withholding the news of Michaelson’s death. He hopes he has relieved Penelope of at least some of the guilt she carries for her own secrets. He may still worry about her role as Lady Whistledown, but at least he understands it better now. And after discussing his travels with her, Colin feels as though he understands himself better now, too. 

A conversation he had been avoiding like the plague had turned out to be the exact thing they needed to get back on the same page. 

Things are different now. They have to be. 

“I will. I promise.” 

It isn’t until he is on the wrong side of the sage green door that Colin realizes what a calming effect Penelope’s presence has on his nerves. With every step towards the putrid door, a wash of worry builds in him. Not just due to her illness and how its symptoms could intensify at any point during the night, but also because of the fragility of the peace they have found themselves in. 

There is still one truth that he has yet to share with her. One assumption she has yet to confirm. When Colin lays his head down on the pillow, one question plagues his mind.

Does Pen love me?