#it jus got em caught in a storm

[dabisbratz]

when nerd!eren takes you out on an official date for the first time he’s so nervous. considers combin his hair back (doesn’t stay in place anwyay), argues with himself over glasses vs contacts (opts for glasses, he knows you like em), sprays so much cologne he almost has an asthma attack . . . n when he’s finally got you there he’s missin all his cues, his voice cracks with every other word, n you’ve never seen him so flustered. bright red the whole date, hands clammy, tremblin like he’s been caught in a snow storm. but it’s so memorable— even when he walks off to the bathroom for a good twenty minutes, his awkward charm is jus so.. endearin.

[awkward-walking-potato]

Remy with a werewolf reader!!!

Love love LOVE how you write remy so much!!!!!

Falling for the Wolf

Remy LeBeau had heard the stories. Everyone at Xavier’s had. They all whispered the same warnings—stay away from the werewolf. That it was dangerous, unpredictable, a walking storm waiting to unleash chaos. The fear of what you could do, what you might become, kept people at arm’s length.

But Gambit? He had never been one to listen to warnings.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silver glow over the grounds of the X-Mansion. Remy was lounging against a tree just outside the training facility, casually flipping a charged card between his fingers as he kept an eye on the shadowed woods beyond. He knew you would come out eventually. You always did. The woods were your escape, a place to retreat when the world became too much, when the wolf inside you scratched too hard at the surface.

Tonight, though, Remy wasn’t interested in letting you slip away unnoticed. He’d caught glimpses of you—your powerful strides, the way your eyes gleamed in the dark, how everyone stiffened when you walked into a room. And to him, that just made you all the more interesting. There was something about danger that he found irresistible.

Sure enough, after a few minutes of waiting, you stepped out of the tree line, your form illuminated by the soft moonlight. You moved with a natural grace, your eyes scanning the surroundings like a predator, ever cautious. But tonight, you weren’t alone.

"Bonsoir, chérie," Remy called out, his deep Cajun accent lacing the words with a smooth, warm charm. He pushed himself off the tree and started walking towards you, his usual cocky grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

You stopped, eyes narrowing. "What do you want, Gambit?"

It wasn’t the friendliest greeting, but then again, you weren’t exactly known for small talk or pleasantries. Remy didn’t mind. He liked a challenge.

"Jus' wanted to say hello," he said casually, closing the distance between you both. "Ain’t nobody ever told you it’s dangerous to be out here all alone at night?"

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "I’m the dangerous one. I think you’re the one who should be worried."

Remy chuckled softly, stopping just a few feet from you. "Oh, I ain’t worried, ma chère. I like a little danger."

You rolled your eyes, though there was a flicker of something in your expression—curiosity, maybe. You had been used to people avoiding you, treating you like a ticking time bomb. But not Remy. He was standing there, bold as ever, that charming smile never faltering.

"Why are you really here?" you asked, crossing your arms. The moonlight caught the silver glint in your eyes, the subtle reminder of what lay beneath your human skin.

Remy shrugged, casually flipping the card in his hand before making it disappear in a flash of kinetic energy. "What can I say? I like things that got a bit of bite to ‘em. And you? You got a lot more than a bit."

You frowned, not used to this kind of attention—at least, not from someone who wasn’t scared of you. "You’re not scared of me?"

He tilted his head, his red-on-black eyes gleaming mischievously. "Scared? Non. You jus' got a bit more… wildness in you than most. But Gambit don’t scare so easy."

Your gaze hardened, the weight of the warnings people whispered about you creeping into your mind. "Everyone else does. Everyone says I’m dangerous. That I can’t be trusted. That I’ll hurt someone if I lose control."

Remy’s expression softened, and he took a step closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him. "Let me tell you somethin', chérie. People say all kinds o' things ‘bout what they don’t understand. But me? I like to make up my own mind."

He paused, his voice lowering, taking on a more serious tone. "And right now? I think they don’t know what they talkin' about. I see someone strong, someone who’s got more control than they give you credit for."

You blinked, taken aback by his words. It wasn’t often that anyone saw you for more than the werewolf lurking beneath the surface. "You don’t even know me."

Remy’s grin returned, playful and easy. "I know enough." He winked, and you could feel your defenses start to waver. "Besides, I’ve been keepin' an eye on you. You ain’t near as dangerous as they say—at least, not to me."

You scoffed, though you couldn’t help the hint of amusement tugging at the corners of your lips. "You’re awfully confident, LeBeau."

He stepped closer again, this time within arm’s reach, his gaze locked on yours. "Confidence is what gets me by," he said smoothly, his voice like honey. "But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t hurt me. Not unless you want to."

Your heart skipped a beat, the heat of his presence overwhelming for a moment. There was something about the way he looked at you—like you weren’t a monster, like you weren’t someone to be feared. It was intoxicating.

But you couldn’t let yourself get caught up in his charm. Not when you knew what you were capable of.

"People don’t just… flirt with me, Remy," you said, a hint of bitterness in your voice. "They’re too busy avoiding me."

Remy’s grin softened into something more genuine, more sincere. "Then maybe they missin' out on somethin’ good."

Your breath caught in your throat as his words hung in the air. You hadn’t expected this. You hadn’t expected anyone—let alone someone like Gambit—to look at you like you were worth something.

He took a step back, giving you space, but his eyes never left yours. "You think ‘bout what I said, chérie. Ain’t no reason to be alone when you don’t have to be."

And with that, he turned, walking away with the same swagger he always carried. But before he disappeared completely into the shadows, he looked over his shoulder, flashing you one last grin.

"I’ll see you ‘round."

And as you stood there, watching him go, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—you’d let him get a little closer next time.

[hitmewithsomebooks]

@jegulus-microfic Feb 14 - lips

Cowboy James 🤠

Inspired my @regulusmydarlin here's the one where Reggie finally cracks 🤗

Previous part first part

~

"Has anyone ev'r told ya you're gorgeous?" James pondered, running a finger along the side of Regulus's face.

"You have. On multiple occasions, if I recall correctly." Regulus replied, eyes still on his book.

"Y'do indeed." James replied with a grin. "An' I'm gonna keep doin' it." He added, flicking a silky black curl. Regulus sent him a little side-glare, and James chuckled.

"Honestly, though, darlin', how could I not tell you over n' over? Ev'ry time ah see you, ah’m flabbergasted at how darn pretty y'are."

Regulus scoffed.

"Real smooth, Potter." He droned. James smirked.

"What, d'ya want me t' go inta detail? Would that convince ya?"'

"If it would make you happy, go right ahead, nosy." Regulus encouraged, still fondly holding onto that nickname.

"Mmm, alrigh'. T’ start, y’r hair is gorgeous," James began, twirling a curl around his finger. " 's so shiny and bouncy, an' y'look divine when y'laugh or turn 'round, it alw'ys bounces n' lands perfectly. Your hands, god, th’r the prettiest hands ah’ve ever seen, ah honestly don' un’erstand. Th'r thin and delicate and y'r skin overall is jus' such a pretty, markable compl'xion..." James trailed off, observing Regulus. The man still hadn’t reacted, staring downward, though James could tell he was no longer actively reading; he was listening intently.

"And don' even get me started on y'r lips, darlin'. Th'r sinfully stunnin', so pink and jus' the perfect plumpn'ss, ev'ry time I look at you I jus' wanna kiss ya. I wanna bite 'em and make 'em all swollen and shiny... s'pose tha's a bit off topic..." James trailed off with a smirk. He caught a little tick at the corner of Regulus's mouth.

"Then th'rs your waist, y'r whole damn body, with y'r long limbs n' pretty legs and that fuckin' arse... ah mean, Christ almighty, if ah wasn' a sinner before ah met you..." the cowboy didn't even finish the sentence, but Regulus got the implication. It was getting harder for James to focus. Pointing out all these rather delectable things about Regulus, sitting right next to him, made it hard to not simply shut up and devour the man.

"But ah think my fav'rite’s gotta be y'r eyes." He spoke, and he noticed Regulus's posture straighten slightly. The younger man hadn't expected this.

"Ev'ry time ah look into y'r eyes ah feel like 'm drownin'. Ah've nev'r seen nothin' like 'em, really. Th'r like a storm an' a silver bullet at the same time, all steely and sparkly and just fuckin' stunnin’. Ah could look into y'r eyes fr'vr, sugar." James's voice had dropped, but it was soft. Like he was getting lost just talking about Regulus's eyes. 

Apparently, that was the key.

James’s face split into a delighted grin as he watched a blotchy red spread across Regulus's cheeks and exposed neck. Unable to help himself, he leaned in, pressing his lips to the red spots.

"So tha' was all it took, huh? Ah feel like ah jus' foun’ the 8th world wonder." James drawled cheerily, and Regulus rolled his eyes, but was still furiously blushing. James leaned forward again, sucking more red marks onto his neck.

"Maybe, if ah mark y'up, tha' pretty blush will last fr'ver." James murmured, dragging his tongue over Regulus's Adam's apple to the other side. Regulus shivered slightly, and he felt James's grin against him.

"Watcha think 'bout that?"

"I think Sirius would kill you." Regulus hummed, but he tilted his head back to give the cowboy easier access.

"Ah think 's worth it if ev'ryone else would know y'r mine." Regulus turned his head slightly, and James paused.

"Am I yours?" He questioned, not looking directly at James.

"D'ya wanna be?" James asked in response, and Regulus bit his lip.

"Yes."

"Then tha's that." James stated, but his grin stretched from ear to ear. He pulled Regulus in for a proper kiss this time, licking into his mouth hungrily. Regulus let out a huff of air, throwing his book on a nearby chair and pulling James down towards him.

"Now," James broke away to pant, hovering over Regulus. "What do ah hafta do to make y' blush all over like that?" He murmured, voice growing husky. Regulus groaned, pulling him down again, and James spent the rest of the night finding out.

~

"Hey, pretty." James drawled as he walked into the room, where Regulus and Pandora were sprawled on the couch. As he said it, he made direct eye contact, his gaze intense. And just like that, Regulus was a red as a tomato. Pandora gasped.

"Holy shit!" She exclaimed, before clapping a hand over her mouth.

"Sorry!" She squeaked, and James laughed, a rumbling chuckle from his chest.

"Don' worry, doll, 's nothin' ah have'n heard before." James said, and Pandora blushed.

"Right, of course. Sorry, just... I've never seen Regulus flustered. Ever. I didn't even know he could blush!" She declared, and James laughed again.

"Took me a secon' t’ figure it out, too." He admitted, plopping down on the couch next to Regulus, who was pointedly ignoring the charming man next to him.

"Aww, Reggie's all hot and bothered!!" Pandora cooed, and the man sent her a glare. She burst into a fit of giggles, which was soon joined by James's hearty chuckle.

"I hate you both."

~

"Howdy, Sirius." James greeted as he walked into the bar, followed by Regulus.

"Well hey there, partner." Sirius replied, grinning as he wiped out a glass. "And Reggie! What are you two doing together?" Sirius wondered, and James shot a look back at Regulus.

"Well, ah was jus' comin' here t' see ya, when ah ran into lil Reggie here in the parkin' lot." James drawled, and Regulus heavily resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Oh, how funny!" Sirius commented, setting the glass down and leaning his arms on the bar. "Hope he wasn't too rude to you." He added, sending a warning look at his brother, who did roll his eyes this time.

"Aw, naw, he's been a righ’ angel." James replied, smirking at the smaller man. Sirius scoffed, sweeping a glance at Regulus.

"I don’t know who you met, but I don't think it's my brother." He grumbled, and James laughed.

"Don' worry, he's been plen'y polite. Very gentlemanly." James assured Sirius, and Regulus had to hold back a laugh. He didn't think anyone would find him or James very gentlemanly if they knew what the two had been getting up to over the past few days.

Sirius shrugged, taking the towel off his shoulder and grabbing another glass.

"Well, I have to tend to some folks, but let me know if you're feeling thirsty." He said with a wink, before moving to the other end of the bar.  James scooted over closer to Regulus, so they were shoulder-to-shoulder.

"Real subtle." Regulus murmured, letting his gaze travel around the bustling bar, not the gorgeous hunk next to him. He couldn't be too obvious with Sirius only a few feet away, whether he was busy or not.

"Right?" James agreed, and Regulus sighed. "Y'know, y'look even prettier under these dumb lights. Ev'ryone else looks all weird n’ wash’d out, but y'look like a damn vision. An' y'r eyes just reflect all the colors, it's stunnin’." James commented, and Regulus could feel his cheeks heat. He could also, suddenly, feel his brother’s eyes on him. He turned his head, locking eyes with similar grey ones, which were soon moving closer.

"Are you blushing?" Sirius asked, astounded.

"No." Regulus snapped, trying to step away from James as casually as possible. "Must be the lighting."

It didn't work.

"Mm, no, you're definitely blushing! And you two were standing awfully close... James, are you fucking my baby brother?" Sirius questioned, in true, blatant, Sirius Black fashion. The cowboy answered without hesitation.

"W're datin', actually." Sirius's jaw dropped open.

"So this is where you've been going?" He screeched to Regulus, gesturing wildly at James.

"Yes..." Regulus replied, sheepish.

"And you didn't tell me?" Sirius's voice was only rising in pitch and volume.

"Listen," James cut in, placing a hand on Regulus's lower back. Sirius tracked the movement, and Regulus couldn't quite read his face. "Ah know he's y'r baby brother, an' y'r protective, but—"

"Whoa, whoa. Yeah, I wish he was still a baby. But I have no misconceptions about Regulus's lack of virginity and all. I know he dates and fucks. Hell, he told me the first day he met you how badly he wanted to fuck you." Sirius rambled, and Regulus shot him a death stare as James looked down at him smugly.

"I'm offended because Regulus didn't tell me. How could you not spill that you were hitting this?!" Sirius exclaimed, gesturing to the cowboy next to Regulus, who grinned.

"Because you told me not to!" Regulus cried out, throwing his hands up in the air. He wasn't a generally expressive person, but when it came to Sirius, he gestured a lot.

"Yes, as a rebound. But since you agreed to date him, clearly you're in a better state than I thought. I'm proud of you, baby bro." Sirius grinned, holding out a fist to Regulus. The younger man frowned, looking at it as though it were a puzzle. James chuckled, before demonstrating.

" ‘s a fist bump. Y’ bump his w’th y’rs, like this." He explained, before bumping his fist against Sirius's. Regulus raised a haughty eyebrow at the both of them, before rolling his eyes and bumping Sirius's fist. James held out a fist next, grinning eagerly. Regulus gave him an exasperated look, but when they bumped fists and James brought his out in an explosion, he couldn't help a small smile.

God, was he turning into a sap??

Minutes later, when James snaked a hand around his waist and whispered pretty and stunning into his ear, he confirmed that yes, he absolutely was.

~

1656 words :)

[cwjf-au]

can we just forget - chapter 03

Chapter Summary: With Sonic having stormed out of the meeting with the allies of Camelot for reasons that were all but apparent, he's chased after by the knight closest to the former king, Lancelot. Expecting something of a fight, Sonic braces himself for an argument, but is presented with something else - a chance to leave.

He'd be stupid not to take the opportunity.

Length: 2,406 words.

First Chapter >

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Masterpost >

He could hear someone running up behind him, metal hitting the wood floors making for a distinct sound that Sonic could recognize anywhere. It's probably a knight chasing after him, about to chastise him for leaving so abruptly, but the idea that some kid was holed up in this castle infuriated him. Sonic could practically feel his blood boiling as the cloak trailed behind him, a ghost that clung to his every move. "My lord," It's Lancelot, and already, Sonic felt his body stiffen up as he came to a stop. He turned on his heel, staring at Lancelot, the so-called ultimate knight. Sonic would never call that part into question, but he was the best at getting under his skin at the wrong points. 

"If you got problems with how I ended that meeting, air 'em," Sonic stated with about as much tact as a bull in a china shop. "Speak freely, and don't hold back." It's almost out of character, but his left fist shook, barely holding onto any semblance of calmness.

"It...is not why I pursued you," Lancelot proceeded with his words carefully, despite Sonic's request to do otherwise. Even if Sonic was annoyed with this, possibly lashing out at Lancelot would prevent him from being able to talk freely. Like it or not, Sonic was stuck here for now, and he wanted to make sure Lancelot knew he didn't need to watch himself around him. Shadow wouldn't need this reassurance, but then again, Sonic and Shadow were firmly rivals up until the very end. "You wished to know the location of the child from the Cymrian queen, correct?" Finally, Lancelot caught Sonic off guard enough to make his fist loosen a bit. "The princess is a handmaiden for Lady Guinevere, one of the potential suitors for the previous king. You would have to reckon with her in order to keep your promise to the Cymrian queen. Are you alright with pursuing that, my liege? The queen has been fine with this negotiation in the past..." Lancelot's voice dropped in volume at the last sentence, implying that if Sonic were to fail, it would be fine, when it absolutely would not be.

"Of course I'm fine with it! If there's one thing I'm not, it's a Chaos-forsaken liar, Lance." Sonic stated, invoking a God with which Lancelot had no comparison to. At least, it seemed that way. The king did have a variety of strange beliefs, what's one more? Sonic sighed softly, at least giving Lancelot a weary smile in response. "Is Guinevere a reasonable lady?"

It was Lancelot's turn to stiffen, his quills visibly sharpening, and while Sonic didn't need any more of an answer, Lancelot gave it to him succinctly. "To call Lady Guinevere a 'reasonable lady' would be...the kindest way to describe her, if not inaccurate to her true nature."

A brow raised. "So what would be accurate?"

Lancelot moved forward, passing Sonic as the blue hedgehog started walking alongside him. "I believe you would need to see her demeanor to believe it, but she has the same qualities you share."

"Oh?" Sonic's smile turned into a smirk. "Is she dashing, charming, able to kick the ass of any man in a second?" He could feel Lancelot growing more uncomfortable, and while it was funny to make Lancelot squirm a little bit when he was normally so stoic, Sonic wasn't cruel. "C'mon, Lancelot," Sonic quietly used the other's full name, hopefully to catch the man's full attention. He did, allowing Lancelot to turn his head towards Sonic. "I jus' need t' know if she'll be a problem for th' both of us."

Lancelot's hand rested on his sword, turning down a hall to the armory. "I pray to God that she is not capable of causing problems for us both, my liege."

This earned a snort from Sonic. "Didn't know y' had jokes, Lancelot." Sonic quipped as he gently punched the shoulder of the other, his knuckles responding poorly to connecting to the armor. Even as Sonic laughed it off, he couldn't help but wonder just what kind of woman would make even Lancelot hesitate to engage with her. "Caliburn's over by th' smith, by-the-by." Sonic announced as Lancelot stood by the armory's heavy steel door. The announcement caused Lancelot to slowly turn on his heel, staring at Sonic through the visor that Sonic was comically imagining to have an expression of shock and annoyance behind it, allowing him to smile again.

"I would advise that you retrieve him," Lancelot answered quietly, opening the door with a huff. "I pray we do not need his assistance, but Lady Guinevere is not a woman to be trifled with. When you are ready, I request that you meet me at the stables. We will continue from there, your majesty." The hedgehog stepped inside. "Thank you for your time." The door closed, leaving Sonic by himself, standing at the door. The advisers hadn't caught up to him yet, and while he hadn't met them either, perhaps now was as good of a time as any to get lost. His heart suddenly stopped in his chest before it started beating a million miles a minute. Hey, wait, he can leave! He can go do the thing that he promised that queen he'd do! Sonic thought that the girl would be in the castle, and thus, it would be an affair and a half to ever get an excuse to leave. However, Lancelot insinuated that she existed outside the castle, and thus, Sonic's ticket to freedom had emerged! He started laughing to himself, ears pinned back as he jumped up. He finally has an excuse to get the hell out of here! He'd already been swamped with paperwork in a language he could barely decipher just to get through to this point, but it all felt like it was worth it! Even if he'd be doomed to more paperwork upon his return, it didn't matter! He was free!

Free for a moment, and freedom never tasted so sweet. He bolted down the halls, ignoring how the speed could possibly affect the halls themselves as the wind barely kept up behind him. His laugh, as childish as it may have seemed to some, was one coming from pure glee. He was a wild bird, freed from its temporary cage, and let free to explore the sky. He couldn't help but express that as he ran out of the castle, and towards the town that he helped save. Despite everything, he still had hope, and he still had excitement. Besides, he got to see the one who resembled his little brother again. He wouldn't miss that for the world.

[ . . . ]

The town was somehow in more chaos than Sonic could have ever remembered, decorations being put up, people running around with arms full of cooking materials, it looked like they were setting up for another party. While the noblemen and women had their own ball, the townsfolk had their own plans. It had been so long since a king had been crowned, that had been ordained by God, that the festivities were to last from the first day of the king's rule, all the way to the end of his first week. Needless to say, the town was buzzing, and those who somehow recognized Sonic running by had a variety of reactions. Most of them were happy waves, others were declarations of loyalty, but all of them were excited. He slowed down to a walk, at least happy to see the townsfolk that had once been terrified of leaving their homes from the previous king's rule were living again. "Hey, hey mister!" A young red wolf broke from the crowd that was starting to gather, barely older than five. He could practically feel the atmosphere suddenly become so thick, you could cut it with a knife. A child who didn't understand the respect a king needed was often punished severely under the previous ruler, so the collective breath being held was observed only by Sonic, and not the kid. "Are ya comin' ta' th' party? It's for you!" Sonic could hear a hiss from someone who was probably his mother, a quick 'Oliver, get back here!' being overheard in the silence. Ah. He wasn't expecting his old name to rear its ugly head.

"I didn't even know there was a party! Y' shoulda sent an invitation, bud!" Sonic responded positively, trying to at least prove himself. "Don't worry, I'll try an' come by! Wouldn't wanna miss all the trouble y'all are going through for this." Finally, his mother broke through the crowd, nervously picking up her son as she backed off from Sonic.

"My sincerest apologies, your majesty, he struggles with respecting authority, and while I know that is no excuse-"

"Hey, hey," Sonic held his hands up in mock surrender. "He's a kid, let 'im make dumb mistakes. If he wants me t' come t' a party, then comin' on up an' askin' is a-okay." Sonic tilted his head as he waved to the kid. "Y'know bud, I knew a really good friend named Oliver. Wear it with pride, comes with a lot o' responsibility." He doesn't have to elaborate further. He took a step to the left, offering a smile to the gathering crowd. "Sorry for botherin' all o' you! I'm gonna go back t' my business, so have fun!" Sonic excused himself again, hopping into an alleyway and using the darkness to slip away. Sheesh, he thought, can't even go to the smith like this. How do people even manage? He's thankful the blacksmith wasn't too far away, only on the other side of the alleyway, and Sonic exhaled sharply as he opened the door.

"Hey, uh-"

"Oh, you've returned!" The blacksmith who looked like his younger brother, Tails, had been sitting at an anvil with Caliburn when Sonic entered, the heat from the metalwork that had to be done almost making Sonic regret wearing a cloak despite the cold temperatures outside. "Welcome back, Sir Sonic, or your majesty! Congratulations on your coronation!" Looks like he really can't escape that nonsense no matter where he goes. He waved his hand again, offering a strained smile instead. 

"Hey, Sir Sonic or Sonic is fine, bud, it's bad enough none of th' knights wanna listen to me on that." He tried to using a lighthearted tone, but he really did mean it. He's fine with Sonic, and always has been for the most part. It's just the deviations from the usual, and the lack of ability to bend when he was comfortable made Sonic struggle to even feel like he belonged among a sea of strangers. He just wanted to go home whenever someone called him that. "How's Caliburn holdin' up? Did he talk your ear off 'bout how I can't drink tea right, or whatever?"

"You cannot even hold the cup correctly!" Caliburn instantly went after Sonic's bait, causing the hedgehog to laugh at Caliburn's fury. "Do you see what I have to endure on a day to day basis, my woeful smithing companion?! An impetuous king, who cannot even fathom adhering to sacred rules for his role!"

"Rules are meant t' be broken, Caliburn. Only the good ones deserve any respect." Sonic quipped back, with the smith snickering only a little bit at Caliburn's exasperation. "Like this kid deserves respect, he fixed you up, didn't he?"

"I only required repairs due to your buffoonery in training." Caliburn's reply was cold, trying not to betray the fact that this was not the case.

"Uhuh, and I'm the queen of Holoska. C'mon, tell him thanks, he worked hard." Sonic's voice had taken on a kinder tone after his bitterly sarcastic first sentence, trying to show that he would prefer Caliburn be nice to the kid, for reasons he wouldn't say. The living sword blinked, rolled his eyes, and relented.

"You have done a fine job as always, blacksmith. You have my gratitude." Just seeing the fox's eyes light up made Sonic's day. Maybe he wasn't used to much praise.

"Hey, I know this seems weird, but...you got a name other than th' blacksmith, right?" Sonic asked, earning both the fox's attention as well as his sword's as he picked Caliburn up by his handle in his left hand. "I don't like you referring to me by my title, but I don't really think doin' th' same t' you's fair. Is there...any name you like?" The way Sonic was asking was noticeably strange, enough for Caliburn to shift in his grip to get a better look at Sonic's expression. He still held that same kind smile, and that same patience he had before with other younger individuals, but the fox seemed different. It felt like Sonic was naturally interacting with him in this way, and in truth, he was. The smith was so much like his brother that it felt disorienting, yet everything was so different. 

"My mother gave me the name Kay before her passing," the fox eventually disclosed his name, as well as its tragic origins. His mother was gone, and his father didn't seem anywhere in sight. Caliburn could have sworn he felt Sonic's grip tighten on his handle as he gave a soft pat on the shoulder to Kay. "I've...been meaning to tell people, but it's easier sometimes to let them think of me as my job. If you truly are alright with such a request..."

"I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't," Sonic answered quickly. "Kay's a good name, kiddo. Thanks for helpin' me out, an'...if y'need anything while I'm still 'round, don't hesitate t' ask." A swift nod with a smile from Kay was all Sonic needed to turn from the fox and leave out the door. He inhaled sharply, rubbing tears that had started to form in his eyes with his free hand quickly, walking briskly through the alleyways to make it back to the castle. The walk back was thankfully silent, with Caliburn allowing Sonic whatever silence he needed to recollect himself. He missed his brother, and the one who looked most like his brother, Kay, seemed so off-put by the idea of asking him of all people to help, that it broke his heart way more than he wanted it to. Sonic can cry later, where no one can see him. For now, he had a kid to rescue.

[team-pokefriends]

((These look really nice. I really like the ones labelled Wrath and Harmless.

As for me, I don't have a main writing blog or anything else, but I do have a website where I store all of the stories I'm writing.

Here's something from Chapter 4 of the story I'm currently writing: Calm Before the Storm.))

[Orion] "Did Ju-Long introduce you to any of our other strongest warriors?"

[Arashi looks back at Orion.]

[Arashi] "Do you mean the people who work for you?"

[Orion nods.]

[Arashi] "I'm afraid not. After we returned, we only talked about human culture."

[Orion] "Did he teach you what was acceptable around our parts and what's not?"

[Arashi] "I have. Humans have strange customs."

[Orion] "Like what?"

[Arashi] "Well, like how breaking a mirror is considered bad luck or how finding a black cat is also considered bad luck."

[Orion] "Oh, he told you about those superstitions."

[Arashi] "Are they something I should be concerned about?"

[Orion] "I mean, they say they give you bad luck, but it's up to you if you want to believe them."

[Arashi] "They sound too strange to me."

[Orion] "Well, do dragons have any superstitions?"

[Arashi] "I remember hearing that if a dragon catches a fish a fisherman previously caught and released, then something bad will happen to them."

[Orion smirks and chuckles lightly.]

[Orion] "And you say our superstitions are strange."

[Arashi] "Well, I understand walking under a ladder, because you might hurt someone if you do, but the other things like the black cat and the mirror still baffle me."

[Orion] "There's probably a historical reason behind it. I bet there's a book about them in the library."

[Arashi] "I'll read it when I can."

((I really like writing conversations, but I also like writing fight scenes, like this scene from Pokéfriends.))

[The two reach the end of the cave. The Shiftry and a couple of Nuzleafs are watching over an Abra tied up with rope.]

[Shiftry] "Don't blame me. You're the one who wanted to run away."

[Abra] "You won't get away with this. Someone will find me!"

[Shiftry] "You think anyone's dumb enough to take me on?"

[Catherine takes a deep breath.]

[Catherine, thoughts] "(I'm not dumb, and I'll prove it.)"

[Catherine poses determinedly.]

[Catherine, serious] "Let her go."

[The Shiftry and Nuzleafs turn around to look at her.]

[Abra] "A-A Dragonite‽"

[Shiftry] "Heh. You're too late. She's all tapped out of money."

[Catherine begins slightly shaking.]

[Catherine, nervous] "I-I'm here to save her from you!"

[Shiftry] "Ahahaha. You? Look at yourself! What an embarrassment. Lackeys, sweep her off her feet and take what she's got."

[The Nuzleafs smiled and paced towards the Dragonite.]

[Catherine, thoughts] "(I can do this.)"

[The Nuzleafs leaped towards her. Catherine blinks, and she becomes determined again.]

[Catherine, thoughts] "(I… can do this.)"

[Catherine's wings light up as she uses Dual Wingbeat. She confidently turns her body and swings her wings at the Nuzleafs, swatting them away with one swing each. The Nuzleafs tumble onto the ground, fainting. The Shiftry wasn't even surprised by the Nuzleafs' defeat.]

[Shiftry] "Big whoop. Let's settle this like real Pokémon."

[Catherine stands her ground.]

[???, Catherine's mind] "Give 'em all you got!"

[???, Catherine's mind] "Show 'em who's boss!"

[???, Catherine's mind] "You can do it!"

[Catherine smirks.]

[Catherine, thoughts] "(Yes, I can!)"

[Catherine charges forward. The Shiftry smirks as he also runs up, but then disappears. He then reappears and strikes Catherine's face with a Sucker Punch.

The Shiftry's leaves shine as he begins stepping around and slicing Catherine rapidly with Leaf Blade. Each Leaf Blade that connects disorients Catherine, confusing her on where he is.

Elise watches on in horror.]

[Elise, thoughts] "(Catherine, do something! You can easily take him out!)"

[Catherine, thoughts] "(I… I can't see him. How am I supposed to fight him? Come on, there has to be something I can remember that will help me.)"

[Catherine reaches beyond the voices in her mind, all the way to her memory. A specific quote sticks out to her.]

[Hawlucha, Catherine's memory] "Anyone can throw a punch…"

[Catherine, thoughts] "(That's… not even close to an answer... But I have to try it!)"

[Catherine blindly throws a single punch out. The Shiftry manages to jump into it, allowing himself to be smacked into the face. The Shiftry stands his ground as he is pushed back.]

[Shiftry] "Lucky shot."

Hey poke-ask community ! Lets spread some love around ! Show me your regular art or snips of your writing when you aren't working on the blog ! Lets see what you have been up to ! ^^ Dont forget to link your regular art-writting blog

Let me start ! My art blogs @the-sleepysiren Here’s my little things I work on !

[a-familiar-set-of-apartments]

*Dimentio was as giddy as a kid in a candy store* Dimentio: Wow! that's amazing! *dim said as he headed to some more broken branches* hey i think theses could use some healing! *dim waited for her to come over before asking another question* sounds like a really exiting life! what made you give it up?

Nettles chuckled softly as she walked over. Honestly, it was sort of nice to talk about pirating again. Not too much. But still. Dimentio was certainly enjoying it, and she had plenty of good memories to cover up the... well. She’d rather not think about the others. She’d spent the last several years pondering them. 

She’d been whistling a sea shanty as she grabbed some downed branches. Just some mood music. Dimentio’s question made her pause a beat, but she tried to wave it off. No pondering. She’d only get as close to truth as she wanted. “It’s exciting, yeah, but it can get hard after awhile. ‘S not an easy occupation to keep- much less do well for fifteen years.” She inspected a branch closely. “There comes a time when you really just... have to stop. For good.” She lifted it back to its place on a nearby tree. “For the record, forest life suits me better. Not like much can go wrong besides visitors and occasional storms, anyways.”  She cast a smile at Dimentio, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

... It wasn’t a good look. 

[brooklynislandgirl]

1,6,9,17!

Little More Conversation || Accepting

1. Does your muse have any extra turn ons?

It’s a quiet night, the rain preventing them from hitting the surf properly. She’s told him that the perfect time to be out on the water is before a storm, during ~Especially the Atlantic~ is too cold, too dangerous, and immediately after, the waves are far too glassy. But to ease the little lines between his brows, she’s suggested watching some movies, even going so far to offer to forgo the subtitles. While helping her make the hurricane popcorn, Eric is so kind as to say she can keep them on.

Maybe there should have been more concern about what they were watching, and not how.

The first is the musical adaptation of Sweeney Todd, and despite the fact that Beth is unfathomably coy when it comes to certain subjects, she makes no effort to hide how she squirms a little, giggles over, and has absolute heart-eyes for both Johnny Depp’s titular Demon Barber, or Helena Bonham Carter’s Mrs Lovett, especially when it comes to the blood and the glinting silver blade. Or how she glances over at him with her fey sort of smile, and sings snippets of the score. Maybe he should have realised there was a running theme when she offered to put on The Red Dragon. {{Specifically Beth has a thing for knife-play, breath-play, blood, biting}} ~*~

6. Does your muse like to roleplay in the bedroom? What archetype or character do they like playing?

“Oh, I love role playin’!” Her hands come together as she claps excitedly a time or two, and then she takes off at a quick pace. “Whenevah I use f’ play wi’ my braddah, he always play like Paladin or Hell Knight an’ one time as a monk. I t’ink he jus’ really like playin’ Lawful Neutral kine. An’ he always, always make me play da cleric so he have a dedicated healer, but in my heart of hearts... I always wanna be eiddah a barbarian or mebbe some kine slinky rogue. I could pick locks, an’ poison my enemies, an’ steal alla stuff!, but I would do it so dat I could support orphans an’ widows an’ save ‘em from da tyranny of da evil king.” {{Beth has never heard about romantic role-playing and wouldn’t necessarily understand what to do or how to play.}} ~*~

9: What is your muse’s preferred setting for sex? Do they keep it in the bedroom or are they more adventurous?

The sheer giggles. Soft and innocently and almost entirely too girlish for a woman her age, even if that age is nebulous. It heralds the blush that arrives like a whirlwind into her cheeks, and she takes a moment to fuss with tucking one lock of dark hair behind her ear. “I mean... dere is a lot of land in our family, mos’ of it secluded, no one ‘round for miles. An’ I do have a fondness for bein’ out in nature.” ~*~

17: Has your muse ever had an awkward moment during sex? What happened and how did they handle it?

She manages to stave off the sound she’d just made at the next question, and everything about her shifts. Her chin tucks down and the colour in her cheeks darken. Her shoulders round forward. Her arms wrap around her waist before she glances up into Eric’s eyes. Her words come slow, measured. Full of trace confusion. “I uhm... I’ve nevah....haven’t... you know dat, right? I...I mebbe mention it before?” Her experiences are not vast, nor are they entirely alone. Having lived with her brother most of her life, she’s been privy to the sounds people make. She’s caught glimpses and from those she’s sought out more data in the forms of videos and novels and televised media. There was that time in medical school, before she ended up dropping her residency... “I’ve...ah... tried time or two...to...replicate what I saw... but it never work out da way it was suppose to. One time, back when I was studyin’ t’ become a doctor... somehow I got my presentation mix up wi’ my personal journal. Half my class saw a dream I had written out on da large smart board behind me. When I realise why dey were laughin’ an’ pointin’ an’ talkin’... I sorta want to die on da spot.”

[second-chance-stray]

RP Log: Rising takes Cravs out to skyfish. Egg fish.

Rising Lotus still looked a bit wobbly on her feet as they made their way through the aetheryte plaza. "Ugh, wasn't even a long airship trip..." she took a few deep breaths, trying to collect herself now that they were on solid land... more or less.

Cravendy Hound , in contrast, is in high spirits. She steps out onto the floating island with wonder lighting up her eyes, and she dashes out to an edge to get a better look. "Risin', ye got to work on yer sea legs...or air legs, in this case? Anyway, holy. Shit. What the 'ells keepin' all these rocks flyin' up?"

Rising Lotus: "Some sort of air crystals or somethin' I think? Some sort of aethery type of deal, someone explained it to me when I came here the first time but I don't remember the specifics." she shrugged ."It ain't too far from the spot...which is weird cause you think you could jus' cast out off any side."

Cravendy Hound shrugs. Magic didn't make much sense to her as well. She would follow Rising to whatever spot she was talking about, chatting along the way. "So, ye showed me that weird balloonfish last time, but what else could we drag up?"

Rising Lotus shrugged. "There's lots of different air fish. Some ain't really look like fish though, least not where I casted off here." she started down the way. "But I guess it counts as long as you hook it?"

Cravendy Hound: "I mean, if we're tossin' our 'ooks off a cliff, seems reasonable ye'd catch things other than fish. Like, birds, maybe." She pauses every once and awhile to observe the native flora and fauna around these parts, having never seen anything quite like it.

Rising Lotus approached the edge cautiously, looking out on the vast cloudscape. "Think over here was the place. I remember these weird plants." she plopped down,  setting her tackle box between them. "Also careful when you go for some bait, it has a tendency to... uh float away."

Cravendy Hound: "What?" Cravs goes for Rising's tackle box and opens it, letting a couple of red balloon bugs drifting out. "What?!"

Rising Lotus was able to snag one out of the air as the others wafted away on the breeze. "See? You jus' wanna hook 'em..." she slid the hook into the body part instead of the balloon part, so that it still could float on her line. "Like this. So they can still float. You'll probably still pop a few though on your first try." She then casted her line out, line floating about with the stange bug hook on.

Cravendy Hound does her best to catch some of the bait before it flies away, but the wind blows away most of the escapees. Following Rising's lead, she stabs one a little too roughly through her hook. It's not floating at all anymore. That's not a good sign.

Cravendy Hound throws caution to the wind and decides, screw it. She casts off with the dead bug anyway. The chill really sets in once she begins waiting in earnest. "Eesh, it's colder than I thought up 'ere."

Rising Lotus snickered as Cravs had a deflated bait hanging from her line. "It's a little tricky, the ballon part is way bigger than the non-balloon part." she shrugged as she cast off anyway. "You think it'd be warmer since we're closer to the sun."

Cravendy Hound feels something tug on the other end and she pulls up a...weird? Purple circle? Cravs can't tell if this is a living creature or skytrash. "I think I caught this through pure luck."

Cravendy Hound: "Well, the tops of mountains tend to be cold? Maybe whatevers 'oldin' in all the warm air becomes thinner the 'igher ye go."

Rising Lotus reels in the same thing, unhooking it then tossing it away, watching it drift away. "Wonder what those things are, weird purple balls." she casted off again. " I got some other bait in there too, these giant bugs. But ya know, different from these bugs."

Cravendy Hound gives her Storm Core a confused squeeze and the thing begins to deflate, spitting out questionable liquid as it becomes as flat as a pancake. Cravs feels a tinge bad, decides to toss it off the cliff as if releasing a fish. The purple thing descends and disappears below the cloud layer. It's probably fine, she tells herself!

Cravendy Hound: "Other bait? Giant...bugs?" Cravs mutters apprehensively. "How big we talkin' 'ere."

Rising Lotus: "Well their body is small, but it has super long legs." she motioned to a small cage with Giant Crane Fly fluttering about. "...So...how did Riylli take... ya know.." she reeled in once more after asking, pulling in a small slug like thing with little wings, giving it a strange look. "...it's like some small angel thing."

Cravendy Hound peers over at the bait and lets out a breath of relief. "Oh, that's nothin', I thought ye were talkin' like, /big/ bugs. Like this bug." She spreads her hands a few ilms apart, invisibly outlining something the size of a loaf of bread.

Cravendy Hound: "She took it well enough...at least, don't think we 'ave to worry about 'er gabbin' to Momori anymore. I think it'd be good to keep 'er and Florus separated though, she still wants to tear 'im a new one."

Rising Lotus "Well yeah that was a no brainer...good though. I was worried 'bout her runnin' with Momori... an' her bein' as naive as she is at times...well..." she let out a sigh at the thought before reeling in another catch. It looks like a weird mass of cloth moving about. "Whoah.." she held her line up so she could look at its form better. Whiteloom

Cravendy Hound: "While most Eorzeans don't take kindly to Garleans, I think somethin' personal must've 'appened with Riylli to make 'er distrust 'em that much...and she's sheltered, too. Bein' in the woods for all yer life don't do the mind any good."

Cravendy Hound glances over at Rising's catch and lets out an amused snort. "Hah, did ye accidentally reel in someone's smallclothes?"

(Cravendy Hound) Buoyant Oviform UMM )) (Cravendy Hound) THATS JUST AN EGG?? )) (Rising Lotus) What's the lady's name they're trying to stop again?)) (Rising Lotus) and yes that's an egg)) (Cravendy Hound) Mindred Rot? )) (Rising Lotus) okay thanks I was blanking xD))

Rising Lotus looked again at her catch. "..Well them Ishgarde folk do wear that frilly stuff." She carefully unhooked it and tossed it over the edge only for it to start swimmin' back through the air.

Rising Lotus: "But aye... worried someone's gonna take advantage of that...someone like Momori or Rot."

Cravendy Hound: "Good thing Riylli's got us to protect 'er, then. Or try. She's pretty stubborn."

Cravendy Hound - Something tugs on the line and she reels in an egg of all things. Cravs holds it in her hand, stunned into a prolonged silence.

Cravendy Hound: "...AY. OKAY, NOW I KNOW YER MESSIN' WITH ME." She turns to Rising with the egg brandished like a club. "The purple beachball and cloth thing were fishy enough, but an egg?! What do ye take me for? Are ye, like, attachin' crap to my line or somethin'?!"

Rising Lotus was about to speak on the Riylli matter when Cracs pulled up an egg. "Huh... that is an egg." she cocked her head. "..so there are eggs floatin' 'round up here too? I mean... does it hatch into things?" she gave it a puzzled look, losing her own bait. "How in the hells would I do that? I'm right here with you!" she set herself up and cast out again.

Cravendy Hound: "I dunno, ye tell me! Did ye 'ire a moogle to loiter below us? Or maybe yer usin' magic. That shit can do anythin'," Cravs rambles as she grips the egg in her hand. "Well, the jig is up!"

Cravendy Hound tosses the egg against the ground, smashing it. A tiny, weird fish splats out of it and flops futilely as Cravs goes from confused to seconds away from losing her mind.

(Cravendy Hound) I have no idea but like - if eggs can fly.................. )) (Rising Lotus) These eggs can! If they're even eggs)) (Cravendy Hound) sus eggs ))

Rising Lotus "I don't know any magic! Aside from some of that blue kind I haven't practiced in...whoah!" she was jerked forward from the tug on her line, causing her to stand up and fight with it. "This ones feels big..." her eyes darted down to the edge nervously and inched back a decent amount of ilms. Eventually with a mighty tug a shark swooped up over the side, thrashing about as it landed on the edge before Rising.

Rising Lotus: "...It's a flyin' shark!" her face lit up, though the creature's resistance broke through, biting through her line and the fly-swimming off.

Cravendy Hound peels her eyes off of the questionable fish-egg and hurries to loop her arm around Rising's elbow. "Don't let it drag ye off! It's a long way down!"

Cravendy Hound: "Well, shit! That's a flyin' fish if I ever saw one," Cravs points out. "But like, a /real/ one, not just the glidin' type I see on the water."

Rising Lotus grunted as it flew off. "Well it was a fish.." she watched it fly off into the distance and back into the clouds. " Ain't ever had that happen before. You'll vouch for me that I caught a sky shark right? I'll vouch for your egg." she snickered.

Cravendy Hound narrows her eyes again. "Ye say that, and people'll just think yer loony. Damnit, I wanna hook a shark too." She stabs another balloon bug onto her hook and decides to change spots - maybe standing somewhere else, she'll have more luck?

Cravendy Hound: "Anyway, what exactly did ye promise to Momori? Somethin' 'bout takin' 'er to Idyllshire? Gods, I feel bad that yer stickin' yer neck out for me to begin with..."

Rising Lotus made her way down the way and cast out again. "Ugh... all I could offer was some connections out there, which even that I ain't thrilled about. Gotta warn 'em 'bout her." she sighed. "An' don't worry 'bout it...gotta look out for you to."

Cravendy Hound blinks several times at that last part, two parts dazed and one part embarrassed. Mixed in is also that feeling of fear you get when you look down a cliff - which /may/ be from literally looking down a cliff. She's not sure. "Ah. Well. I can look after myself...but I appreciate the 'elp anyway."

Cravendy Hound: "We look out for each other." Cravs pauses, then glances up to give Rising a shy smile. She finds her footing. "..A 'ound never 'unts alone.

Rising Lotus nodded, returning the smile as she idly reeled in her line. "Aye..." she chewed her lower lip, looking like she was fighting with something. "...I was alone for a bit before I joined up with Heartwood. Was...a bit hard...so.. ya know...you an' Riylli..." she trailed off, reeling in her next catch.

Cravendy Hound tilts her head as she listens to Rising, every word slow and careful. Which struck her as odd, but then again, Cravs figured she was feeling just the same way. "Yeah! It's good the three of us stumbled into each other. Ain't good bein' alone all the time."

Rising Lotus fished up an egg of her own, breaking the tender moment by by grabbing it and shoving it in Crav's face "See! I wasn't putting you on! There are jus'..." she looked at the egg in her hand "..these things floatin' about.." she shrugged and tossed it away.

Rising Lotus: "..b-but yeah...Thanks." she smiled weakly, though it looked like something was still bothering her a bit.

Cravendy Hound rolls her eyes with a smirk. "Well I'll be...ye also got one of them flyin' eggs. Either there really are eggs just out there, waitin' and willin' to be fished up, or we're both goin' crazy from bein' up 'ere too long. If they're aren't just a 'allucination, we should shove 'em in a carton at 'ome as a prank. See if someone bakes a cake with it."

Cravendy Hound: "Anyway, I'm gonna 'ead back. My nose's gonna be frozen solid if I stay out 'ere any longer." She packs up her rod and bumps Rising on the shoulder with a clenched fist as she begins to walk back. "Thanks for takin' me out. Shout if anythin's givin' ye trouble."

Rising Lotus nodded. "Aye, I think I've had enough of starin' off into...certain death." she stashed her rod away. " Glad we finally had a chance to go out here." she rubbed her elbow a bit at her offer, glancing back over the edge before nodding lightly. "..A-alright." she shivered a bit as the chill was finally starting to get to her as well. "..I wonder if they got a bar in that town back there.."

[thevoilinauttheory]

Ink Long Dry: Roses

Character(s): Maximiloix Voilinaut, Danny Harold Content Warnings: descriptive eye injury, burns What: An aftermath Notes: A tag for @renofmanyalts​ for implied mentions of Danyell Dwynwen, and @donpom-loredex​ for a continuation of a current thread.

---

His clothes were still soaked, even by the time he arrived back to the scene of the attack. Wool as heavy as his footsteps, heels over cart tracks left in the mud. It had departed already, which Maximiloix was thankful for, having left behind a trail of ash and charcoal - some still flickering with sparks. He brushed back branches and leaves as he pushed himself further into the woods, where he had pulled Danny. No one had seen him, leaving the man unconscious for the past few bells. He brought himself down to his knees in front of him, pulling the mask from his face.

Maximiloix kept his eye on the mask, brushing his fingers over the surface to ascertain the damage. He couldn’t see it - not like this. He could see the fluctuations in his aether, sputtering in and out with his shallow breaths; he could see how it was fighting against another, something not his own, yet mingled almost perfectly. But the injuries? He pulled up his eyepatch, squinting with the light; he rubbed his fingers over his eyes, opening them slowly. The vision bled in slowly - it gave him a headache, seeing both aetherial signatures against the sights. They blinked open further when his gaze fell to his student’s injuries - far graver than he had thought.

“Avis - it is time to get up.” The response was a heavy breath. Danny’s head shifted, but he didn’t stir fully until a hand was placed on his shoulder. “Mngh? Where… Where am--” He shook his head, gripping to the left side of his head, palm pressed to his eye. “M’head hurts bad… m’tired…” “I know…” Maximiloix let out a sigh of relief, running his nails up through his hair. “Master Voilinaut? ...please don’ be mad…” “Mad? Avis, I am worried, not mad. You are in bad shape, let us get you home. I will heal you proper there.”

He draped Danny’s arm over his shoulder, using what strength he could muster to get the man to his feet - and wheezing when the full weight of his body was pressed against him for support. Danny’s feet almost dragged, shaking from reconstruction; his body heavy and sore. He groaned in pain with each step.

When they had made it back, Danny promptly fell into his bed - a longer groan, the pain truly setting in when he rested. Maximiloix kept to his side, using what magic he could to keep it from being unbearable. “...Everythin’ hurts… head hurts th’worst.” “I know.” “Yer not mad?” “Why would I be?” “...Got m’self inta trouble ‘gain.” “This time is different - this time involves lives, not distractions from your lessons. Now… rest. Please rest.”

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

Maximiloix strolled through the Bower, eye shifting from a piece of paper to the stalls, while he ran an errand for his grandson. He could overhear a group of merchants and traders, keeping his visible attention elsewhere.

“No one’s seen ‘em for the past few days’r so. All them attacks just gone!” “Yeah, s’been real quiet.” “Y’know what they say about that - calm before the storm.” “Nah - I heard one Wailer sayin’ they caught ‘em.” “Like hells they did, what took them so long! I think they’d’ve killed him instead.” “Might be dead?” “Might’ve just upset the Wood.” “Either way.”

The rumors were all over the place - swallowed by the Wood, Wailers caught him, Wailers did him in… every one of them ended as if the Masked Man had finally been rid of, that no one would see sight of him again. Perhaps that was true - Danny had not stepped from his apartment in some time. Maybe he’d visit.

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

Maximiloix obtained the chance to visit Danny two days after. When he tried to push the door open, it had been blocked off by a side table - refusing to budge. He let out an annoyed sigh. “Get out! Get out now!” He could feel the same fear Danny felt when he had first found him. “I will not - are you well?” Maximiloix reached an arm through the crevice of the door, squishing his body against the frame to attempt scooting the table from under the knob. It wasn’t working. “No, I ain’t! M’already a swivin’ freak, now… now s’jus’ pathetic.” He let out a huff from his nose as he stood up. “Jus’ like y’tryin’ t’move th’table.” He moved the table for his mentor, letting him inside - he kept his face covered, using his foot to push the table.

“What’re y’doin’ here.”

“Checking in on you, of course. You have not left in almost a sennight, and I suspect someone is beginning to worry about your whereabouts.” “...I don’ wanna see ‘im.” “Do not lie to me.” “...I don’ want him t’see me.” “So you would rather hide from him - never see him again?” Danny had his words turned on him, a response stuttered in his throat. “N-No, that’s not-- I--... is there no way to fix it?” Maximiloix wandered himself to the kitchen, pulling up a pot to start some tea. “Fix what?”

Danny turned around. The mask that he wore was still in place, charred - the paint peeled and melted, scorch marks from the chin up - it was broken, leaving only his left eye revealed…

If there were an eye to reveal. No, instead there were roses - rich in red, deep in crimson. He watched as the broad white petals of a winter rose fight its way from the socket of his eye, watched as the bright yellow begonia petals unfolded, watched as a group of snakeworts tangled with the branches of willow, slowly seeping down his face like tears. The image made him grimace. ( He felt them, the soft petals pouring out. They would grow over the rest of his wounds, soothing them. These petals - these petals, however. They stung, they mocked him. The twists of the stems and branches, leaves that unfolded inside, they made him twitch - how hollow his head felt. The burn scar beneath them grew small stems, small leaves, pushing through the skin. He tried not to pick at the strangely cold sensation. They spread wide and round, lily-pads across fire - and much like him - smelled of mint. )

“Ah… no, there is not. Not without dire consequences.”

Danny let out a heavy sigh and threw himself on his bed, sitting up against the headboard. He curled his knees up and hugged himself. “...He’s gonna be livid.” “Livid? Avis, he would be anything but livid - you misjudge him as you do I. What reason does he have to be angry?” “...Avoidin’ him.” Maximiloix pursed his lips, folding his arms over his chest. “I suppose that would be an issue.” “N’ gettin’ m’self caught up like that ‘gain…” “From what I saw, it seems you do not have a say in that matter.” “Even if he weren’t, s’not like he’d ever look at me ‘gain.” “If he found you that unsightly, he would have left moons ago.” “Still...” White clusters of roseum sprouted from his arms, spruce needles growing over some of his vines, the flowering branches of chasteberry replacing a few.

“M’beginnin’ t’see what ‘e meant by snowstorms.”

[maybe-your-left]

Cowboy Blues: Its a Date, Or Is It?

Settling into a new routine has always been hard. You were so happy back in North Carolina. Well, happy was kind of a stretch, but you were comfortable. Everything was familiar and felt like home. Even after the falling out with Josh… boy was he someone you didn’t miss. The long nights of tears and screams followed by hours of pain and suffering. You cried tears of relief and unrelenting joy when the judge granted your restraining order. The next day you packed up all that was left of your life and got a new job at a clinic in West Virginia. 

Your alarm clock woke you from your thoughts, sighing before swinging your legs outta bed and making your way to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror was so different nowadays. No longer did you have to hide your face with layers of concealer to hide the shame from others, your (Y/E/C) eyes weren’t obscured by the burst blood vessels from repeated abuse. You could finally have your hair in whatever style you liked, not having to follow Josh’s rules of how a “lady was supposed to look and act”. Quickly washing your face from all the grime on your pillow you pulled your hair back into a messy braid with a bun atop your head. Throwing on some new scrubs, you grabbed an apple from the kitchen counter and rushed out to your car. Earl had gotten it all fixed up in a couple of days and dropped it off so you didn’t have to take the bus to work anymore. It took you all but fifteen minutes to arrive in front of the clinic, the head vet tech was there smiling at you when you walked up. 

“Morning Doctor (Y/L/N)!” 

“Good morning Shelby, you’re here early today. I’m usually the only one who gets in at 7.”

Shelby let out a breath you didn’t know she was holding and opened the door for you. Waltzing in you started flipping on lights to begin opening up. 

“Well, I got a phone call from the emergency pet line while I was getting ready for work so I just let him know to get here at 7 when you showed up” her voice trailed off while she stared out the front windows. You walked over to Shelby and stared out the window to see what she was looking at. Suddenly a car pulled into the parking lot and a man rushed out of the driver’s side. He crossed over the front of the vehicle and picked up something rather large and rushed to the front door. 

“He got here fast didn’t he?” Shelby spoke up. 

Turning towards the back entrance you let Shelby check in the man. You were setting down your bag in your office, getting your supplies ready for whatever emergency he was bringing with him. 

“Sure thing, can you tell me again what happened to him? I need to make sure Dr. (Y/L/N) knows before we take him from you.” Shelby said as calmly as she could. It was clear that the man was panicked, his voice was strained like he had been crying for some time. Walking back into the lobby you stopped dead in your tracks. Before you stood none other than Clyde Logan. Your knight in shining armor, your rescuer from weeks ago.  You cracked a smile, eyes searching his pained expression. He seemed to be at a loss for words, or he didn’t remember who you were. That thought stung since this wasn’t the first time you had thought about him since you departed. You thought about the embarrassing moment where you caught him coming out of the shower. If you were bolder you would’ve ripped that towel right off of him and rode him instead of El Wood. You had spent many nights in bed sweating up a storm thinking about his rough hands massaging and caressing you while whispering in your ear what a pretty cowgirl you were. Imagining how his muscular arms would hold you up against the wall while you chanted his name over and over and over again. You let out an audible whimper when you were shoved back into reality when Shelby spoke up again. 

Like throwing a cold bucket of water over you, you realized he was here for an emergency and the only dog you saw on that property was Leroy. You rushed over to Clyde’s side and peeked under the blanket that was cradling the poor thing. Clyde’s chest rose in shallow breaths as you looked over Leroy. It appeared he was still breathing but like his owner, he was only getting in shallow breaths, his fur was matted and spots of blood were visible through the patches of fur around his neck. 

“H-he got out this mornin’ an I found him fightin’ with a snake… I got it off a him but…” Clyde trailed off and looked at you with tears in his eyes. He choked back what seemed like a sob when you motioned for him to follow you to the back rooms. 

-----

Clyde left the clinic at about 10, the nurses assured him that Leroy was doing okay and that Dr. (Y/N) would make sure to call him when it was time to pick him up. He had spent all morning in the lobby pacing, panicking, dreaming of the worst possible scenario for his lil’ buddy. He had gotten Leroy when he moved out of Jimmy’s place to the family ranch. His sole companion that was with him day and night was now hurt because Clyde hadn’t checked for snakes before lettin’ him out. 

He left his number at the front desk along with the number for Duck Tape in case he didn’t answer at home when they called. He wasn’t sure where he was headed but he mindlessly made it to Mellie’s salon. Maybe a haircut would calm his nerves, after the traumatic moment with Leroy, he also had seen that girl again. He wasn’t sure why he was blessed that day to come upon such a fine young lady but he was thanking his lucky stars every night for the moments they shared. Being a southern gentleman and all he tried to keep his “unsuitable” thoughts outta his mind but there was something about her. 

Walkin’ into the salon Mellie smiled at him and motioned for him to sit in the chair. Draping him in the cloth and brushing his hair Clyde finally started to relax. 

“I didn’t know you were gonna come in today Clyde”

“Wasn’ plannin’ on it Mel,” Clyde said barely above a whisper, “I was in town already and needed a trim.” 

After a long pause, Mellie brought Clyde to the sink to wash his hair. Heatin’ up the water to a warm sudsy temp, using the tea tree shampoo as he likes. 

“Leroy’s at the vet. Got caught by a snake this mornin’.” Clyde finally said, “Got him there until they call n’ say it s’okay to bring him home”. 

Mellie hummed in response, she never pushed Clyde to talk more than he needed to, unlike Jimmy. She was truly just there to listen and support him whenever he needed it. 

Finishing up at the sink he got up and sank back down in front of Mellie’s mirror as she started trimming away. Clyde had finally begun to relax after telling Mellie about Leroy when she piped up. 

“Earl said you had a girl at the house the other day”. 

Clyde's eyes nearly popped outta his head. Earl knew better than to be tellin’ Mellie bout’ girls, Clyde was never one to hold a secret but Mellie always tried to work her “Mellie Magic '', which usually ended in him gettin’ his heartbroken. 

“He said she was quite a looker, want to tell me where you found her? Or should I just keep cutting hair until you talk?” her smirk on her face was evident even if Clyde wasn’t making full eye contact. The scissors she held were dangerously close to his ear, threatening to cut the hair coverin’ em too short. “I don’ know what yer talkin’ bout”. 

“Is that your final answer Clyde?”

Eyes darting between Mellie and her scissors he knew he would have to cave or else he would suffer having a bowl cut for the next few months. “Her car broke down outside the house, I couldn’ jus let her walk off”.

“And what’s her name?”

“(Y/N)”

“That’s a pretty name, never heard of her. Is she new?”

“Not sure, she didn’ say. But she works as a vet where Leroy’s at.”

“Have you made a move on her?”

Clyde pauses before answering, he wasn’t sure he wanted to share with his little sister about how (Y/N) barged in on him naked after a shower. She would get the wrong impression. The last thing Clyde needed was Mellie thinkin’ bout’ him and (Y/N) naked, not that he would mind it.

“Clyde, don’t go all moony-eyed on me, have you asked her out yet?

“O’ course not” Clyde spit out. He couldn’ imagine doin’ that, what if she said no? He wasn’ sure he could take her rejection. 

“Why don’t you ask her to the bar? Get her a couple of drinks so she meets people in town.” 

Clyde swallowed, it did seem like a good idea in theory. Nothin’ could go wrong at his

bar. He would be in control of the situation. Not saying another word Mellie finished his hair cut n’ he left to get the bar ready to open. 

-----

The rest of your morning was uneventful after the Leroy emergency. Taking him from Clyde had been heartbreaking, to say the least. The man looked like he was going to pass out when he told him he couldn’t stay back while you worked on Leroy. Apparently he had been pacing the lobby and wouldn’t sit still for longer than ten minutes. The nurses told you he came up to the counter and asked about Leroy every time he sat back up from his seat. It was cute how much he cared about his dog, not many pet owners stay when they drop off their animals, but Clyde stayed until finally, Shelby convinced him to go stretch his legs. 

At about 3 you checked in on Leroy and he was happy as can be, you could hardly believe he was bitten by a snake near hours ago. He was so glad to see you, he clearly remembered you, unlike his owner. It was time to call Clyde and let him know he could come pick him up. You also got to go home and rest after a long day's work once Leroy was sent on his way. 

Dialing the house number you waited… “This s’ the Logan Ranch leaves a message.” Beep. 

Ugh, you guessed you had to try the second number, whatever Duck Tape was you had heard it many times to know that Clyde was a regular. 

Ring, Ring, Ring… ugh come on pick up. 

“Duck Tape bar, this s’ Clyde.”

Clearing your throat you replied, “Hey Clyde it’s (Y/N) at Community Animal Hospital, I just wanted to let you know Leroy is here and ready to go home.” Smile beaming through the phone you hoped that by saying your first name Clyde would remember you. 

“Thank y’ very much. I’ll be there soon I’m jus’ down the road' ' Clyde blurted out and hung up quickly. 

Sighing you went back and got Leroy ready to be discharged. Letting the nurses and other staff members go home while you waited for Clyde. Sitting behind the front desk you waited with Leroy sitting between your knees while you scratched and pet his head. 

No more than five minutes had passed before Clyde strode through the door. You hadn’t been able to get a good look at him this morning but now here he was in all his glory. A dark-gray button-up smartly tucked into denim wranglers adorned his broad chest. His beard seemed better cleaned up compared to this morning and his hair seemed a little shorter, not that you paid that much attention to his ebony locks. 

“Hi again sunshine”. 

His words melted your bones, the sickly sweet nickname he called you echoed in your ears each time you fell asleep. Shaking yourself out of the trance he put you in you spoke up, “Hey Clyde, I got Leroy right here for you. Let me just walk you through the medicine he will be on for a few days”. You walked your way around the counter and stood to his right. You immediately noticed how much bigger he was up close, your eyes barely reaching to his shoulders. You had to strain your neck to look at his face. And what a face it was, covered in little freckles and moles you resisted the urge to touch them all. His eyes bored holes into your soul, stealing the air out of your lungs. It was like two perfect pools of brown amber were right there for you to dive into. 

“What’ll I be givin’ him now?” Clyde’s voice jerked you from his face back to the paperwork in front of you. 

“Oh yeah, he just will be taking a couple of these” you lifted the green pill bottle towards Clyde “Twice a day for 3 days until the swelling goes down. After that just use sparingly if he starts itching at it. There is also some gel to put on the sores that need to be done every night before he goes to sleep and that won’t stop until they go away”. Clyde nodding in response to your instructions. A smile pulled at his lips when you finished. 

“I can’t thank y’ enough fer helpin’ Leroy. I don’ know how I can repay y’.” 

“Well I’m a doctor, it’s in my job description” you smiled up at him. After what felt like hours he spoke again. 

“Well’m a bartender so why don’ I get you a couple a rounds on the house tonight?” 

You were intrigued, you hadn’t planned on going out but it was a Friday and all you were going to do at home was watch Netflix and possibly touch yourself to the thought of Clyde. Now you had the chance to, maybe, touch him for real. 

“Uh sure, I’d love to come by”. 

“See y’ at 10?” 

“It’s a date” you blurted out without realizing what you said, not wanting to take it back you just gave him a nervous smile. He said nothing as he gathered up Leroy’s supplies and called him out to his car. 

TAGLIST: @finn-ray-nal-beads @morby @kirah36

authors note: I am having so much fun writing this you guys have no idea. Also be ready for smut *saddles up* 

[wilhelmjfink]

Hiii didn't see you there 😂 It's me again 😗✌️ I would looooove to read about worried Daryl. It's his turn now 😂 If you could combine these two it would have been wonderful 💓 “let me take care of you, for once.” “i hate to break it to you, but you’re not supposed to do any strenuous physical activity for the next couple weeks, and if i have to personally make sure you don’t every waking hour of the day then i’m fully prepared to do that.”

Daryl Dixon Drabble #4

Aight listen. This is real fluff at the end. And I hate myself for it. I hate the fluff. I love suffering. But I guess it’s good every once and awhile cuz then you get comfortable and then? U suffer real fuckin hard. Feel me

thank u for the request I hope this one makes you happy!! Once again I changed it a little to suit him..... sorry o

Once again again I didn’t reread this once

—

Stubborn. That word seemed to come up quite often in your life — both before and after it changed.

Daryl used it frequently to describe you, and ironically, you found yourself using it to describe him, too. Maybe that was what made the two of you connect so well; alternatively, it could be the reason that, when an argument did arise, you were always toe to toe with the archer, harsh accusations and accusing fingers in each others faces.

Perhaps the knowledge that you would inevitably end up in that scenario is why you opted to just ignore your aching body and the burning in your chest in favor of continuing your morning chores, harvesting the vegetables that were ripe enough for picking, albeit slower than usual.

As much as Daryl was infuriatingly stubborn, he was equally observant, a lifetime of watching from the shadows benefiting him more than he’d likely ever had guessed a decade earlier. And, god damn him, he was confrontational; a lethal combination when someone he cared about was trying to hide something from him, which may or may not be exactly what you were actively doing.

The sun seemed extra harsh today, beating down on you like a relentlessly heavy blanket. You could feel it burning your skin, even with the sweat that ceased to form along your forehead and neck and chest, and you brought the bottom hem of your ratty old red tank top up to wipe your face and take a moment to catch your breath when you heard him approach.

“Hey,” he greeted you with a pointed nod, watching as you pulled your shirt back down to respond but instead stumbled when the minor action caused the world to teeter slightly beneath your feet, lulling you forward with your hand flat on the soft earth for support.

A small action that may have gone unnoticed had you been talking to anybody else, but this was Daryl. And he was at your side instantly, his hand grasping your shoulder to steady you, despite you trying to shrug it off and avoid eye contact.

“What’s up?” You tried to avoid his gaze and instead rolled your shoulder to wipe some sweat from your brow, turning your attention to the basket of carrots and potatoes at your side.

“Ya alright?”

“Yeah!” But even you winced at the amount of effort put behind that single word to make it seem normal, ironically twisting it to sound as forced as it was. “Yeah, just hot today. Almost done, though.”

Daryl eyed you warily as you stood, making sure to exhale deeply through your nose to keep your balance. You didn’t stumble, but you couldn’t deny the feeling of your head swimming through the darkness that clouded the edges of your vision that you began to try and blink away desperately.

Suddenly he was in front of you, knelt before you with both hands on your shoulders, blue eyes wide with curiosity and... concern? It was then you realized his mouth was moving — he was talking to you, but you couldn’t hear him. An obnoxious, high-pitched ringing in your ears had started at some point, leaving his voice muffled like he was underwater. Or maybe, he was beneath the surface of whatever bright black and white spots dotted your vision threateningly, increasing at a worrying speed despite your efforts to step back away from them or shake them away, and all at once they blinded you — all Daryl could do was catch you as you collapsed right before him.

You faded into consciousness with the strange notion that you should be doing something important. Something other than sleeping, waking up on your own accord, the heaviness in your eyes and head telling you that you’d even slept too long — why hadn’t your alarm woken you up this morning?

That was to say, of course, it was too early. But the voices that you could hear somewhere close by convinced you otherwise. A rumble of thunder gently shook the floors, the walls, the bed you lay in, and you forced your tired eyes open just in time to watch a flash of lightning paint an obscure image on the ceiling above you.

This wasn’t your bed.

Despite everything your body was telling you, you bolted upright in an instinctive panic: where were you? And why couldn’t you remember going to sleep in your own bed that night?

“Hey, now.” A disembodied voice rung out from somewhere beside you, and your brain caught up before your ears allowed you to register it. Your heart instantly slowed it’s incessant thumping and you were able to exhale a steadying breath, allowing the rapid wave of panic to dissipate as your body fed signals to you that your muddled brain otherwise couldn’t configure on their own at the moment: relax, he’s here, so wherever you are, you’re safe.

Hilltop’s infirmary had a very intricate and distinctive taste that you could identify from just the detail of the trim along the wall. The dull, light grey aura told you it was sometime during the day, and you looked to the window at your right — blinds pulled shut — and then to Daryl, who sat in a dining chair at your side.

“Daryl?” You weren’t sure why you felt the need to reassure yourself it was really him, as if this strange, fever dream-like world had concocted up some figment of your imagination that looked, sounded, even smelled like Daryl, all traits that were comforting in and of themselves. You cleared your throat hastily and tried to rid your mouth of the dry sandpapery feeling that plagued it mercilessly.

Daryl presented a cup of water that you took and slugged eagerly, chugging as much as your body could take before he reached back up and pulled it back away from your mouth. “S’enough, you’re gonna make yourself sick.”

“What happened?” You asked, voice fuller now that you’d rehydrated yourself and sat up further against the sturdy headboard of the bed. You racked your brain for the last clear memories you had. “My carrots..?”

To your surprise, Daryl snorted a laugh; not a whole hearted, genuine one — you knew him well enough to know that something was eating at him and you would surely find out soon — but a small noise that still stirred up the butterflies in your stomach, even after all this time.

“Your carrots are fine,” he told you, voice low, like he was afraid of the storm hearing his words. “You ain’t, though. Why didn’t ya tell me ya were sick?”

You felt the flush creep up your neck and your cheeks and you ducked your chin down, guilt and regret already making themselves comfortable. Next, Daryl would chew you out for being stubborn, you’d argue, give him the silent treatment for a few hours before one of you caved and apologized. “I didn’t... I thought I could power through it. I thought it was just the heat...”

“Ya, it was the heat,” he retorted, sitting up a bit straighter as he spoke, “the heat ‘n the one-oh-two fever ya had, too. Ya know better than to push yourself if you’re sick, yeah? We ain’t got doctors ‘b drug stores ‘n those kinda luxuries anymore.”

You sighed, glancing fleetingly at him before looking away. “I don’t wanna bother anybody — we all got so much going on right now, what with the Saviors, and...”

“I don’t care about no damn Saviors.” Daryl reached out, cupping your chin with a gentle touch only he could manage with his rough and calloused fingers, tilting your head to look toward him. “Can’t fight ‘em if you die from fuckin’ pneumonia, Y/N.”

“I don’t want anyone babying me when we’re all on edge,” you shook yourself free and cursed yourself mentally for the unintended bite your words held. But Daryl didn’t flinch, only narrowed his eyes. “You, especially, got far too much shit going on right now, okay?”

“Would ya just listen to me for one second?” Daryl snapped, and you found yourself taken back at the uncharacteristic steadiness of his voice. Typically these arguments escalated quicker than you could keep up with them, but Daryl’s tone held no resentment, no strain of trying to remain level-headed. In fact, he brought his hand back up to your face and made you face him once more. “Please, jus’... jus’ lemme take care of you for once. We dunno what’s gonna happen with this whole Negan thing ‘n I don’t wanna spend any time we have left together fightin’, alright?”

You could see the pleading behind his eyes that broke your heart, the toll that it took on Daryl as he carried the burden of not being able to protect his friends and family from the Saviors and the other unknown threats that lurked outside of the walls of the few safe havens you all had found. But, you supposed, if all he needed was for you to rest and lay low, if that gave him some semblance of control in this frantic world, you could give that much to him.

“But... my carrots...”

The smile that ghosted his face forced a wave of heat across you own flushed skin. “Christ — the god damn carrots will be fine.”

“I need to at least dig up the rest of my potatoes,” you added thoughtfully. “And the tomatoes will be ready in a couple of days — “

“I hate to break it to ya,” Daryl leaned back in his chair and kicked his feet up on the edge of your mattress, a sign of comfort and relaxation you were elated to see from him during such stressful times. “But ya ain’t s’pose to do any strenuous physical activity for the next couple of weeks — ”

You rolled your eyes. “Tomato picking is hardly strenuous physical activity, D.”

“It’s what got ya here in the first place, ain’t it?” You looked away sheeplishly. “Listen, if I gotta spend every wakin’ second makin’ sure ya don’t do nothin’, I will.”

“Even if it means you gotta pick my tomatoes for me?”

This time, it was Daryl’s turn to roll his eyes. “I ain’t no damn farmer, girl.” You smiled, leaning back onto your pillow and closing your eyes contently. You weren’t sure if you were meant to hear him mutter under his breath: “but, fer you? I guess I can try.”

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Twenty Seven, “Meet Me in the Hallway”

New to the story or want to catch up? Find all chapters HERE! :-)

Ok I didnt forget this time :/

                           *  SNEAKYYYYYYYYY PEEK TIME *

“Why’re you annoyed I said that? Is it ‘cause that’s what you want? Did I expose your secret fantasy? ‘Cause ya know you can still go and date him, maybe it’s even easier now that you don’t work for him anymore.”

“Robbie, stop.”

“I can keep a secret. Scout’s honor.”

“No, you can’t! You always say that and it’s never true. And you were never in Boy Scouts,” I scoff, holding onto tufts of his jean jacket.

“I was too! Now, stop avoiding the question. Why won’t you give Harry another chance?” Robbie continues, veering back to the topic I so conveniently changed.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Hmmm, I don’t think I believe you, Ree,” Robbie tsks. “But I’m going to get the truth out of you one of these times.”

P.S - I apologize for any spelling/grammar errors or stuff that should be bolded/italicized that I missed, I already edited this chapter on here a few times and Tumblr kept losing it ugh. 

Enjoy!

“I don’t know,” she replies, yanking at the corners of my heart. A sigh escapes my lips when I feel my heavy head fall into my hands. “M-my dad,” Becky continues, but her words collapse into tears before too long. 

I almost tell her that I already know, but my lips stop just in time. I don’t want her to get mad at Asher. And if I’m honest, our secret elevator meetings to talk about her are the highlight of my week. But my lips search for something to say. The sound of her tears is all I can hear, no matter how badly I ache to take them away. 

“He has c-cancer, Harry,” Becky says, her words tumbling out sloppily. They pull at my heart again, making it fall another notch. 

“Fuuuuuuuuck . . . . ’m so sorry, Becks . . . . Are ya okay?”

“No, w-why would I be? How could I be?” she responds, her words falling out fast. 

“Becks . . have ya been drinkin’, love?” I ask tentatively, wincing when I hear her groan. 

“I don’t wanna ‘ear it. Imma grown woman. I can bloody drink if I want t’ and-,” she argues, her voice steely. I’m caught off guard by the confrontation, and it only makes me feel worse. 

“Tha’s not what I meant, love. I jus’ . . . ,” I try, my train of thought fleeing me. All of my thoughts do, because I wasn’t expecting this. I don’t even know if I’d have any better idea of what to say if I’d had notice she was going to call. That she was going to remember who I was for the first time in 9 months. “Are ya atta pub? Cuz I jus’ wanna know yer safe. I can leave an’ give ya a lift home if ya need,” I finish, unsure of how she’ll take my words. 

She’s quiet and it only makes the scary thoughts buzz louder in my head. 

What if she gets the idea to drive herself home?

What if some drunk bloke bothers her and she can’t fend for herself?

What if she tries to walk home in the rainstorm?

What if she keeps drinking, not knowing when to stop?

What if-

“No, I’m at home. In me bed. I’m not st- dumb, Harry,” she slurs, showing me a side of her I’ve never seen. We’ve had drinks together before - in my office or rarely at a pub. But she never got drunk before. 

“I don’ think ya are, bug,” I counter, the nickname falling effortlessly from my tongue. “’m really sorry ‘bout yer dad. D’ya know how bad it ‘s yet?”

“Noooo, other than that ’s somewhere . . . like in uh Stage 2 . . or somefiing,” Becky answers, her words all over the place. “It’s t-the prostate. Ya know that fing that uh . . . is . . where ‘s it ‘gain?” One of her many words that don’t make much sense.

“Ya I know what it ‘s an’ where. I uh have one of ‘em,” I finish for her. I’m rewarded by hearing her decadent laugh. A sound I’ve craved and missed for so long. I missed it more than I thought I had, I realize as a smile pulls my cheeks upwards. 

“Oh ya. I uh kinda forgot ‘bout dat,” she titters, encouraging a chuckle from my now smiling lips. 

But her laugh fades first and mine follows. Because she didn’t call to laugh at my lame jokes, or to catch up on things we’ve missed in each other's lives. No, not really. 

“He’d been ‘aving pains. So bad he can’t eat, or use the uh loo . . He told me when we was there wit’ Robbie and . . . . he looked baaad,” she tells me, her voice catching on the last word. I feel my heart shudder in pain again, and suddenly I realize the validity of the second-hand pain phenomenon. “And I jus’ dunno ‘ow I’m gonna do dis. I wanna help him and take care o’ him . . . But I’m t’ree hours ‘way and . . . I just dunno how t’ do dis.”

“There’s no real setta rules, love. No guideline or brochure fer how t’ handle it . . Ya jus’ gotta do yer best, an’ love him . . ‘m sorry,” I tell her, not knowing what else to say. 

“You’re sorry?” she laughs, pulling my eyebrows into a knot. “Tha’s a firssssst.”

I listen to her laugh some more, savoring it. But I’m also confused and a little offended. But then it stops abruptly and I hear her sniffle. “I’m the one whoooo should be sorry,” she begins, tears lacing into her words. And taking all of mine with them. “You’re just trynaaaa help, and I’m bein’ mean and rude just like I always am to ya. Ughhhh, I dunno why I even called.”

“No, ‘s okay. Yer goin’ thru a lot an’ . . . I appreciate ya callin’. I jus’ hope ‘m helpin’,” I say quickly, dropping a hand in defeat. It finds its way to my pants and I pick at the loose thread that’s been bothering me all day. 

“But I am, Harry! I’m mean and I make no sense a-and I’m jus’ loadin’ onto ya. But I dunno who else t’ call, cuz ’m tryna t’ be strong forrrrr Robbie. And not worry Skye, an’ I jus’ dunno what t’ do, Harry,” Becky says, the last of her words dissolving into sobs. Biting my lip at the sound of her crying into my ear, I keep biting and biting as she cries. I yank at the thread and feel it dig into my skin, but I don’t let go. “I don’t wanna lose me dad afta I already lost you.” 

It takes a few seconds of telling myself, but I slowly release my bottom lip. I huff, swiping my tongue across my lips. I taste the metally blood coming from the stinging cut. And then the warm taste of salt joins it on my tongue. Pressing my lips together, the pain only intensifies. But I let it stay as tears roll down my cheek. My finger burns, but only for a few short seconds when I finally rip the thread from my pants. It doesn’t compare to the pain I feel inside of my chest, like a vice around my heart. Tightening and throbbing. 

The line grows silent, but I know she’s there. Because I hear her shallow breathing, and the occasional sniffle. And I know that she’s still crying, because I hear the whimpers that she tries to hide. Even if she is drunk. And the pain only keeps coming, because I hate that I can’t do anything to stop hers. Nothing at all. 

“I miss ya so much, Becks,” I whisper, not believing the words coming from my mouth. But they feel good. Freeing. Almost exciting. 

“I . . . I do too, b-but I can’t go down that road ‘gain, Harry. I- I can’t do this,” she rushes. I hear noises on her line, but I can’t get out the words before the it goes dead. Silence.

I feel my phone slide from my hands slick with tears. It falls to the floor with a thud, but I hardly hear it. Because her voice is drowning out the sounds of everything else. 

The thunder. 

The rain falling harder by every second. 

I press the pads of my fingers into my eyes and let my own rain fall. My fingers grow wet with every tear. Every single one I held in as her voice graced my ears. The tears that grew from the pain I heard in her voice. From when I heard about her dad’s diagnosis. And I think the ones I’ve been pushing away for a long time. 

The rain welcomes a friend, and I join the drops drilling against the glass until the storm passes. But I know that although the storm inside of me passed for a little while, that it’s only come back stronger. The velvety sofa cushions and pillow welcome my tired body. I fall into a fitful sleep with her comforting voice dancing through my head. The only place I can see her again, and where I didn’t fuck everything up.  

+

“Don’t worry, Becky. We’ll get this all figured out. You just do your best and take care of yourself and your father. Keep me updated on what you learn, and if you need extensions. Alright?” 

“I can’t tell you how grateful I am,” I reply emphatically. 

He nods before patting my arm and telling me to have a good day. I return it before leaving his office and feeling the slightest weight leave my shoulders. That was the easy part, I think to myself as I find my way through the twisty halls. 

Looping my arm through my other backpack strap, I turn a corner and keep walking. I feel my heartbeat start to slow down after that nervous meeting with Professor Alcott, finishing up my afternoon of meeting with my professors. I couldn’t even believe the words leaving my mouth to grace their ears. 

My dad was diagnosed with Stage 2 prostate cancer recently. We still don’t know a lot, but I wanted to let you know. I plan to still stay enrolled in the program and I’m committed to my courses. At the same time, I’m going to do what I can to take care of him. I will keep you updated as I learn more, but there are still a lot of unknowns at this point and . . . , I think, pausing the track I had on repeat for the last few hours. I had to figure out what to say, then rehearse it, and then say all of those words to the stern-looking expressions of my professors. Two of whom I’ve never even met before, because I’m taking their classes online. But my advisor, Sally, told me it would be best to meet with them in person. It’s more personal and shows your commitment blah blah, she said. 

I’m just glad to have that part over with, I sigh inwardly. 

The first fallen leaves of Fall crunch under my lace up purple Vans. The crisp air welcomes me. For a few seconds, I lose myself in the beginnings of the changing colors of Autumn. But the incessant worrying thoughts that have plagued my mind sit at the back, ready to pounce. I was rather numb for the first several days. I didn’t know how to function normally. Let alone inform my professors professionally and in person about the events that just rocked my life. I’m relieved that they were all very accommodating and kind to me about the news. But I know that the hard work is just about to begin. 

A U2 song pours from my speakers as I back out of my parking space and start my journey home. I try to lose myself in the beloved lyrics, but it’s hard. When they become too relatable and too nostalgic, I skip it and the stereo player whirs as it thinks. My Spotify chooses a song at random - a favorite by Vance Joy. I roll my windows down and try to sing along. 

I close my apartment door with my foot, sifting through the mail. 

A bill. An advert for Skye. Another bill. Another cosmetology advert for Skye. An advert from my uni. Something Skye ordered from Amazon. A random magazine subscription that I most definitely don’t want to subscribe to. A sheet of Domino’s coupons. And a square periwinkle envelope with my name scrawled across the front. No return address.

My feet stop in the middle of toeing off my shoes. The one falls to the floor with an echoing thud. I swallow and pad slowly over to the kitchen island. Pushing Skye’s mess over, I let the pile of mail fall with a slap. With one shoe still on, I soon find myself sitting on the arm of the sofa. Backpack still heavy on my shoulders. Keys still hanging around my finger. But all I can focus on is the periwinkle envelope in my hands. And that familiar handwriting. 

I hug it to my chest and tap my fingers along it as I think. 

I know what it feels like, but I don’t know if I want to open it. 

Because I know what will happen if I do. 

But I can’t deny the first bubbles of excitement rising in my chest. 

The first feelings of happiness I’ve felt in 11 days. 

11 days since my dad announced that he has cancer. The dreaded C word. 

My thumb does the first rip without me barely registering it. My excited heartbeat eggs me on. I try to rip it neatly, and leave the pretty envelope intact. But I’ve never been good at opening mail neatly. It’s just too exciting. I see the cursive word on the back first. The card company’s name. 

The card is a periwinkle purple, like the envelope. He remembered it’s my favorite. My eyes fall closed without warning when I feel the hard square inside of the card. A sigh escapes my lips. It only grows longer when I feel the tiny imprints the pen left from pressing down hard in the author’s hand. 

Exhaling slowly, I flip the card over and find a saying that I glance over. The cursive words made permanent by gold lettering tug at my heart. But I know that’s only the beginning. My finger pries at the opening and runs along the inside, feeling the bumpy impressions of the ink words. I rip the bandaid off and open it. But before I read anything, I grab a hold of the plastic square. I place it behind the card in my grip. 

One step at a time. 

The inside of the card is painted with sloppy black writing. At the sight of it, I watch my sight grow hazy. Starting at the beginning, I blink and feel the first tear fall when I see my name. 

Harry’s name for me. 

Dear Becks, 

I saw this card and thought of you. The little bunny on the front just screamed your name, and well it harassed me during my whole shopping trip to buy it. Isn’t it just adorable?  It made me think of the story you told me once about the baby bunny you found with your dad that was hurt. You both nursed it back to health before it hopped away back into the woods. Or your Dad called the animal services to take it to rehabilitate it. You said you couldn’t remember. Anyways, it made me think of you and the unimaginable pain you’re going through. You and your family. I never had the pleasure to meet your Dad but I wanted to extend my sympathies. He must be a pretty incredible man seeing how well you and Robbie turned out. You always spoke fondly of him. I know you’re very close to him, and because of that I know this is even harder for you. I’m so sorry. I’ve been thinking of you and your family often, and wishing there was something I could do to help. I’m so sorry, Becks. I really am. I don’t think there’s much else I can say to comfort you right now, or if there is I don’t know what it is. I’d just suggest doing what you can to be with your father during this time, and although it may be difficult to see him in pain, I think you’d be happy if you were there. No matter how things turn out, I think it would mean a lot to the both of you. I’ve experienced grandparents and loved ones passing, and it’s the shits but whoever said that it’s better to suffer together than by yourself was right. But please take care of yourself too. I don’t know what your plans are, but please don’t load your plate too full. Okay? I’m sorry, but you won’t be much help to your Dad if you’re giving yourself too much work.  I’m so sorry that this is happening to you, Becks. It pains me more than you could know to know that you’re going through this. You and your family will be in my thoughts and prayers during this difficult time. Please let them know that. Take care of yourself, please. For you and your dad. If there is anything at all I can do to help please don’t be afraid to let me know. In the meantime, I hope that this Visa gift card will help. I recall you said you’re from Madley and your dad still lives there, which is quite the trip. I hope this money will help pay for petrol, meals, hospital bills, and anything else that may help make you and your dad comfortable. Myles’ brother who’s a doctor knows of some good docs at The Royal London Hospital where he works - if you’re interested, just give him a ring. I’ll be praying for a hopeful diagnosis and outlook for your dad, and that he recovers from this. I hope you’re hanging in there, Becks. Just take it one day at a time.

Harry xxxxx

My chest shakes with a sob as I breathe in, but it’s so hard. And it hurts. Closing the card, I cover my face with it. And feel the warm tears paint my cheeks. I don’t know where they come from or how I haven’t ran out of them yet, but they keep coming. Without knowing it, I find myself sliding off the sofa and down onto the floor to rest against the sofa. Ugly sounds leave my lips and my body shakes with each sob. For the first time in days, there’s a feeling inside of me stronger than sadness for my dad. 

Longing. 

Missing. 

I miss Harry. And I let myself feel all of it. Like I haven’t been letting myself for months. I forgot how much I missed him. 

The way he could make me laugh. 

How he always knew what to say without worrying it being the right thing. 

His sunshine smile. 

His molasses like voice - deep, rich, and syrupy sweet. 

And most of all, the way his hugs fixed me like a bandaid. I feel my heart wrench with everything I miss, but it especially hurts when I think about how much I miss his hugs. And how badly I crave one right now. No, I need one. 

I cry harder at that, because apparently things can get worse right now, I think inside the chaos that is my mind. 

I miss my dad, even though I saw him yesterday when I went back home. And then I miss Harry, even though I kicked him out of my life. Even though I heard his molasses voice the other day when I mistakenly called him after drinking a bottle of wine. 

I miss him so much and it hurts.

I didn’t know that I could even hurt more than I already was. 

And I wouldn’t have guessed that his card warms my heart, and breaks it at the same time. 

+

My thumb wavers over the keyboard of letters, indecisive and lost. I groan and walk away, padding out of the room and into our main living area. 

“You better be getting a snack since you didn’t eat dinner,” Skye calls out to me from her perch on the sofa. 

“Okay, Mom,” I retort, searching the shelves of the fridge. It sounds bad, but it only took Skye a major life event to do a decent job at grocery shopping, I recount. Grabbing a yogurt from the drawer, an apple, and a spoon from others, I leave with my dinner in hand. 

The food falls to my desk with a clatter as my attention diverts to my phone. Waking it back up, I see the words I had typed out before. Without another thought, I press Send. With wide eyes and a shaky hand, I lay my phone face down away from me. I’ve only gotten settled and read a few lines from my textbook when my phone chimes. With teenage jittery excitement, I stare at it for a few seconds before daring to pick it up. My heart does a somersault in my chest at the sight of the name. 

Harry. 

I read over my text first, and then read his. 

Me

Hi. I can’t thank you enough for the incredibly sweet card. The gift card was more than generous. I don’t know which I cried more at. Just THANK YOU. A lot. I don’t know how many times I can say that. It was so kind of you to think of me and my dad. 

Harry

hi! stop it youre more than welcome. im glad you liked the card. i wasnt sure if it was 2 dorky. u better not have cried at it. im here if u need anything. have a good night xxxx 

My thumbs dance around on the screen. But before long, I set it down and try to immerse myself in my textbook. But it’s hard, because all I can do is think about him and our texts. I was texting him and we were talking, my over excited teenage-like mind thinks. But the adult part of it sweeps it under the rug, or tries to. Those two parts fight each other as I struggle to make sense of the chapter I’m reading. Because the teenage girl side wants to text him back, but the adult side argues there’s nothing to say. And that won’t I just get hurt again? I find myself nodding at that. Or more so, the argument it makes about there being no point in it. But the teenaged side reads into his words and grows excited at some of them. Talk about distracting. 

“Oh my god, just stop!” I mutter aloud, covering my ears but it doesn’t work. Groaning, I flip the page and read on. 

He helped and his card stands on my desk now, but I need to focus on my dad. And school. And this fricken boring chapter that I have an upcoming quiz on.

+

Voices carry down the tiled hallways. The sounds of footsteps sound like ghosts around me. So do the memories I have of these halls. Ones that stab at my insides as I walk further into them. I turn a corner and find the light at the end of the tunnel. He senses me and looks up. He shows a small smile as he crosses his arms over his chest. He’s continued to ignore the the circle of chairs in the waiting area. Instead, he leans against the wall nearby the door we’ve been staring at. 

“Is he done with his labs yet?”

He shakes his head no, narrowing his eyes at me. “You said you weren’t going to go and cry in the bathroom, you liar,” Robbie jokes, but I don’t laugh. He purses his lips and holds his arm out for me. 

I walk into them and rest my head on his chest. “Yeah well, you tell everybody that you’re the older twin when you’re not,” I quip with a sniffle. A laugh rumbles underneath my cheek. 

“That’s ‘cause I am.”

“No, you’re not. Dad only said that when we got in fights to make you feel better,” I reply, closing my eyes and listening to his heartbeat. For some reason, his hugs never fail to calm me down. After a fight we had whether we were 5 or 15, when I snuck into his bed at night when mom and dad were fighting, after a pet died, even after a bad day at school, and especially lately with dad’s diagnosis. It only strengthens my belief about the whole twin thing. 

He scoffs in reply and my lips find a laugh. “I want to see our birth certificates and settle this once and for all.” 

I giggle into his warm chest and close my eyes. But then the thoughts and not longer after, the tears arrive. Robbie squeezes me and tickles my back with his fingers.

“They sounded hopeful at least,” he says quietly.

“Yeah, but they want to do chemo before and after surgery.”

“I know, but they said they have to be sure. If things look good when they’re doing the surgery, like clean margins or whatever it was, then he might not need chemo afterwards,” Robbie points out and I nod, feeling the damp spots on his shirt from my tears. 

“He seems like he’s holding it all together pretty well.”

“Yeah he’s always had super strength. Remember in primary when we wrote that dad was our hero-.”

“And mom got mad,” I finish for him, adding my laughter to his. 

“Yeah. And even though we made that superhero poster about him, I never stopped seeing him as a superhero,” Robbie says, slowly trailing off when the emotions steal his words. 

“Bee, stop, you’re gonna make me cry even more.”

He laughs for a second, but then I hear him start to cry. His chest trembles underneath me. I give up and cry with him. 

“Harry sent me a card in the mail,” I sob, hiccuping in between words. 

“He did? I always knew I liked that guy. What’d it say?”

Something half-scoff and half-laugh is my response before I take a big breath. “I don’t know, it was just so sweet and kind. He said that he’s thinking of all of us, and told me to take care of myself. He said he knows it’s hard to see people you love suffering, but that it’s better to suffer together than on your own,” I choke out, tears drowning my words. “The card had a bunny on it. He said he got it because I told him the story of how Dad and I saved that hurt bunny. I wish he could’ve met dad when I still worked there . . And he sent a $150 Visa gift card to use for bills, petrol, and food.” 

“Wow, that’s crazy generous. Wait, what? You two didn’t save it, the animal control people did,” Robbie argues and I just shake my head. “And don’t say it like that. Dad’s too stubborn to die, you know that. And with how much you talk about Harry, I’m sure you guys are gonna get coffee one day and fall in love and get married,” he continues, his voice quickly turning mocking and girly. I laugh and shove him, stepping away with a laugh. 

“What?” he laughs. His voice is still under water, as is mine. “Why’re you annoyed I said that? Is it ‘cause that’s what you want? Did I expose your secret fantasy? ‘Cause ya know you can still go and date him, maybe it’s even easier now that you don’t work for him anymore.”

“Robbie, stop,” I reply, laughing with emotions fighting in my voice. 

“C’mere,” he says, pulling me into his arms once again. “Ya know you can tell me. I can keep a secret. Scout’s honor.”

“No, you can’t! You always say that and it’s never true. You blabbed to the whole 1st grade I had a crush on Johnny Turner. Then, when I gave you a second chance, you did the same thing again in 8th grade with Willie. And you were never in Boy Scouts,” I scoff, holding onto tufts of his jean jacket. 

“I was too!”

“Being it for one week and quitting because you went home in the middle of the first camp doesn’t count!” 

“I still think it does. I have the outfit, sash, hat, and everything still. I made dad proud, and you know it. Now, stop avoiding the question. Why won’t you give Harry another chance?” Robbie continues, veering back to the topic I so conveniently changed. 

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Hmmm, I don’t think I believe you, Ree,” Robbie tsks, his scratchy chin resting on top of my head. We hear the click of a door open, and I frantically wipe my eyes. “But I’m going to get the truth out of you one of these times.” 

I roll my eyes at Robbie as I peer up at him. He winks before sloppily kissing my head. 

“Come on, you rascals. Let’s get outta here before they try to poke me with any more needles,” our dad says, walking out of the room with his jacket folded over his arms. 

I know he knows we’ve been crying, but he doesn’t mention it. I think another secret language is already starting to form between us. With Robbie’s arm around my shoulder, I grab hold of my dad’s hand. He turns to flash a tired smile at me, before placing a kiss on my forehead. 

“Thanks for coming, guys,” he hums quietly as we stop in front of an elevator. His smile tugs at my heart. I’m just thankful to be able to still see it. 

Stepping onto the elevator, he squeezes my hand hard, just like he always has done. “Dad, don’t!” I yelp and he chuckles under his breath. 

After pressing the button for the lobby, I see Robbie’s lips bend upwards. This can’t be good. “Hey, dad, when we get home can you pull out our birth certs? I need to know the truth of who’s really the older twin.”

“Oh god. You two are 25 years old, when is this going to be over?!” my dad huffs, rubbing at his eyes, but with a smile. “Maybe I won’t take you with the next time, since it’s giving you existential crises,” he threatens, and we all fall into easy laughter. 

“I’m gonna have an existential crisis if I found out you’ve been lying to me for my whole life,” Robbie exclaims and we all only laugh harder. 

+

My backpack and coat fall to the floor with a heavy thud. With a yawn, I bend over to grab my things. The sound of chattering surrounds me. It slowly grows in volume as I sit there tiredly with my head down. I hear footsteps, laughs, and the scuffling of moved objects. 

“Wake up!” a voice nudges at me. I groan angrily in response and hear laughter in response. I peek through a crack in my arm to find Ruby’s crazy red hair bobbing next to me. My newest friend from Criminology. “Just ‘cause we have a guest speaker today, doesn’t mean you can sleep.”

“Oh, that’s today?” I reply excitedly, returning to the warm cocoon of my arms. 

“Yeah, but we still have to take notes. Ya know like last Wednesday when we had our first guest speaker? We had to write down questions for them, even if we don’t end up asking them. Alcott just wants us to get thinking and to well, pay attention. And not fall asleep like somebody! And then we have to write down 8 things that interested us, so get unpacking,” Ruby replies, her chipper voice drilling into my ears. 

“Noooooo,” I moan, scrunching my face in secret. 

I hear the door to the lecture hall close with a loud bang and Alcott laughs. “Alright, you lot, look alive. Our guest speaker has arrived and is ready to dazzle you this rainy Wednesday morning. Remember to be working on your page of ‘Ahas’ whilst he’s speaking. You’ll be passing it in at the end of class which is in 50 minutes,” Alcott announces. His Southern accent coming out in a few of his words. 

“Shitttttt. I think I might like this guest speaker. Look at him, Becky. He is fineeeeeee,” Ruby whispers, elbowing me hard in the arm. 

With a whimper, I sit up with a secret stretch. Combing my hair back, I rub at one of my eyes as they both struggle to focus. 

“What, who’s fine? What’s fine?” another voice blurts out. I squint and look over to find Simon taking the seat on the other side of me. The little Criminology trio back together again. 

“Not you being tardy, that’s not fine,” Ruby retorts with a smirk in her voice. I can’t help but smile. Simon flashes one at me as he combs a hand through his sandy hair after digging in his backpack. 

“So without further ado, I’d like to introduce our guest speaker today. Harry Styles from Styles and Lawson. Let’s welcome Mr. Styles with open arms and give him our undivided attention, please.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mumble under my breath, coaxing a confused ‘what’ from Ruby and Simon’s lips . 

“Hullo, class. My name ‘s Harry Styles, but ya can call me Harry. Ummmmm as Professor Alcott said, ‘m from tha London law firm Styles and Lawson. Me mate, Myles Lawson, makes up tha otha half o’ tha firm. This year it’ll be 5 years since we started tha firm togetha, which ‘s bloody crazy t’ me. Before, it was his dad’s firm, and long story short, Myles an’ I got togetha an’ here we are. Anyways, I make me rounds in London talkin’ t’ law classes. I’ve always enjoyed speakin’ t’ tha incomin’ lawyers an’ tellin’ some o’ me stories. An’ me favorite part - answerin’ questions. I thought ‘d start with how I got into law, tho’.”

Shit. I really should’ve known this would happen.

“Nothing,” I reply. “J-just hand me a piece of paper and a pencil, please,” I say briskly to Ruby. 

The last thing I want is to make a single sound that will bring attention to me. But it seems like the universe doesn’t really care lately what I want. I’m already trying to figure out my odds of him spotting me in the sea of 50-so students. Amongst 35 or so ogling girls. Typical.

But the more my eyes focus and my ears attune themselves, I lose myself. I knew it wasn’t a dream when I heard the first word from his mouth. I’d know that voice anywhere. But when my eyes finally focus on the towering figure standing at the front of the room, my eyes struggle. Gone are his long curly locks, and replacing them is a short and curly quiff. I try to ignore the somersaults my insides are doing, but it’s terribly difficult. 

Taking a deep breath, I savor listening to the words fall from those smiling cherry lips. In that slow, calming voice. Never being able to remain in one place, he paces around the front of the room slowly. Clad in a gray suit with a black button down, I slowly melt next to Ruby. Who from her choice of words, is doing about the same. Just in a less graphically described way than her. I can’t blame her, because somehow he has only gotten more handsome over the last year. 

“Isn’t he just so nice to look at?” she croons. 

“Oh yes,” I reply without thinking, and she sighs happily.

Simon groans in disgust, shaking his head. I see him out of the corner of my eye playing with the lead in his pencil. He tries to take it out in one piece before putting it back in. Rinse and repeat.  

I bite my lip and somehow tear my eyes away and to the paper sitting in front of me. I scribble my name across the top. Numbering my page, I write down the first ‘aha’ I have. 

1. Renowned lawyer with his own firm at 28. Almost unheard of. 

Tapping the pencil absently at my thigh, I return my attention to the front. Playing with the rings donning his hands, Harry continues with the story of how he came to be a lawyer. One I can’t say I’ve heard before. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he starts to walk again. Changing his focus from somebody in the front row, it suddenly floats up. 

And lands on me. 

Not only am I surprised, but so is he. The pencil between my fingers halts and altogether falls from my fingers. He stops mid sentence when his eyes lock with mine. My insides grow bubbly as a sparkle gleams in his eyes. I watch a grin unfold on his lips before he composes himself. 

Clearing his throat, he asks, “I-I’m sorry, can somebody uh remind me what I was sayin’?” 

Nervously, he combs a hand through his hair. Laughing, he thanks an eager girl in the front row when she reminds him. And soon enough, he’s back on track with a new nervousness to his voice, or excitement. I’m not sure which. And his eyes trail back to me after a few words, making a smile tickle at my lips. 

Although hard, I look away and pretend to think of something to write. Feeling another pair of eyes on me, I look over and find Ruby’s hot on my cheek. I shrug at her jealous look and she just shakes her head. I laugh under my breath and she kicks me under the table. 

I lose myself in Harry’s words for the rest of his talk, his maple syrupy voice like music to my ears. 

He talks about starting his law firm with Myles.

Some of his favorite cases.

His first case.

His worst case.

His hardest case.

And then he goes on to answer questions. Ruby and I aren’t the only ones fawning over him, because most of the class is as well. Some girls are really flirting it up with Harry. He just relishes in the flattery, to no surprise. I try not to notice the few times he peeks at me when he looks for somebody to call on with a question. 

“Why does he keep looking at you?” Ruby whispers to me as I write down another ‘aha.’ Some random takeaway from another story of his. 

“How am I supposed to know?” I reply, twiddling with my pencil when I’m done. “Why don’t you ask him a question already? I can see the ants in your pants, Rube.”

“I don’t know, I think her question would be if he was single,” Simon jokes, garnering a few curse words from Ruby. I quietly laugh between their hushed argument. 

“Well, ‘m gettin’ tha eye from Alcott, so I reckon that my time’s up with you lot. Thanks fer havin’ me an’ hopefully I wasn’t too boring t’ listen to,” Harry concludes at the front of the lecture hall. 

I pretend I don’t hear Simon’s griping next to me. I can’t help but smile as I slide my backpack onto my shoulders. 

“Not so fast, everybody. What do we say to Mr. Styles for speaking to our class today?” Professor Alcott pipes up. I join in on the class-wide thank you as I hand Ruby her pencil back. 

“I bet you’ll be awake and ready for Wednesday lectures from now on,” she says, winking at me. 

I roll my eyes with a grin as I start down the steps beside her. “Like you’re any better. I saw you both drooling from the corner of my eye,” Simon remarks. 

“Maybe,” I say quietly, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my pullover quarter zip. The last syllable falls from my lips as my eyes pan over to find his head of dark curls.

Nearly at the uppermost row, my view wasn’t the best. As I near closer to him, his features sharpen and with the realization, my heart squeezes in my chest. Light stubble coats his dimpled cheeks as he smiles talking to a classmate of mine. 

I’m only a few footsteps from the bottom now, following the slow line of people who are leaving. The angel and demon, for lack of better words, argue inside of my head. Should I go and say hi? 

Yeah, why not?

No, why would you?

It would be rude if you didn’t.

It would be weird if you did. 

But there are a handful of girls around him probably already flirting with him. 

With an indecisive sigh, I clench my fists inside of my pockets. The two opposites inside of me clash, and I truly have no idea what to do. His card the other day was so kind and thoughtful. But I was a bitch the last time I saw him. I can’t believe it’ll be a year in two short months since I quit. Wow. 

“I dunno why they’re bothering, it looks like he’s taken,” Simon snickers, earning a flick on the head from Ruby. “Don’t be a bitch just because I pointed out the truth. Can’t shoot the bloody messenger, Rube.” 

I don’t intervene when Ruby chases after Simon to the door. Suddenly my feet stop around the corner from the stairs. Only a few more steps and he’d be out of my sight. 

Again. 

For who knows how long until next time. 

I can’t take my eyes off of him. He really looks like he’s enjoying himself talking to law students. Up close, he really has grown more handsome over the last 11 months. I never thought that could be possible. Smiles crease his cheeks.And light up his eyes. 

But when his left hand habitually goes to fix his quiff of curls, I see the gold ring Simon saw. He wore rings, but never that one. It’s like my heart is brought up from the bottom of the lake where it’s been, and takes another nose dive back down.

“Becky!” somebody calls for me. I blink and almost think it’s him. But when I look around for the culprit, I find Simon walking up to me. 

I find it hard to squash the disappointment weighing inside of me. That it’s not Harry. 

“Sorry, Si. W-what’d you say?” I reply, tearing my eyes away from Harry. 

“Don’t look so sad he’s taken,” Si jokes quietly, putting an arm around me and squeezing my shoulder. I force a smile and walk to the door with him. “Wanna go get a coffee? Maybe that’ll cheer you up,” he suggests happily, his voice echoing in the hall to the door. 

“Yeah sure,” I respond slowly, unsure of my words. I let him guide me out of the lecture hall and into the busy hallways. 

Wow, Harry, you moved on from Amber that quick, huh? I think to myself with knitted brows and self-doubt. Swallowing, I try to push the nagging thought away. But I can’t, and I find myself barely able to carry on a conversation with Simon. 

I thought seeing Harry in my lecture was one of the sweetest surprises. Instead, it feels like a happy dream that turned into a nightmare at the end.  

[yearningcalum]

rich LA girls (c.h) pt.I

Word Count: 2.5k

everyone’s got issues in LA, Y/N’s just happens to be choosing between addiction and sobriety.

AN : Hey guys I wrote a fic and I hope you like part I ! I really love the show euphoria so i guess this is kinda inspired by that if you squint. TW: drug addiction, swearing, self-image

R-rated folks 

You lay on the marble floor of your best friend’s kitchen, the cold contrasting with the overwhelming numbness you felt. You couldn’t remember how you got there, on the floor, but now you wouldn’t dare move. Normally your head was swimming, but currently, your mind was drawing blank after blank. It felt almost peaceful…almost. After an eternity of mindless staring, you heard the doorknob to the front door turning. A surge of energy coursed through you, and you sat up to meet the eyes of your best friend Ashton. “Jesus Y/N, what the fuck” he jumped, shutting the door behind himself. You smiled lazily at him, losing all energy once again. “I thought you were dead,” he half-chuckles, grimacing when he recalls the last time he’d seen you. You were covered in vomit, nearly aspirating after one-too-many doses of heroin. He immediately rushed you to the ER, despite being told it might ruin his career. You woke alone, and couldn’t but feel empty.

Still, Ashton’s lavish pad was home for you, especially since the incident. Ash scooped you up off the floor, placing you on the counter and pecking your cheek. “Glad to see you’re okay,” he nodded, walking over to the pantry and grabbing a few granola bars. He shut the door, meeting your eyes as she peeled one open. You hated when Ashton stared you in the eye like that like he could read your mind. He always seemed to know what you were thinking, or even worse, if you were high. He narrowed his eyes at you, shaking his head. “You’re on right now, aren’t you?” He wasn’t being judgmental, but he was definitely concerned. To his delight, you’d been clean for five days. That accounted for the general haze going on in your brain. “Not used to thinking soberly,” you chuckled softly, stroking your hand through your curly locks. The curls were dehydrated and unruly, but that seemed to be your look at this point. Ashton nodded, pecking you on the nose. “I know what’ll get you back on track. A party.” You wrinkled your nose, shaking your head at how silly he was. “Ash, I am not going to hang around some rich white girls while you get your dick sucked in the bathroom,” you teased, and he rolled his eyes. “There’s my girl. We’re going, so go get ready. I’ll text you the address. I’m going with some of my boys, but I shall meet you there.”

As you headed out the apartment, you clumsily bumped into a taller fellow with a buzzcut. He had a cigarette hanging from his lips and slight dark circles under his eyes. His gaze intrigued you, but not enough to strike a conversation. Before the eye contact grew uncomfortable, you darted toward the stairs at the exit. Upon reaching the bottom, you paused to catch your breath. Once caught, you whipped out Ashton’s Juul and took a quick huff to keep you alert.

Your apartment was empty when you got home. There was a single mattress on the floor of the living room in the corner next to some ramen cups and a dying plant. A sigh left your lips as you stepped into the bedroom. You really hadn’t been home since the hospital. There were still piles of needles, sleeping aids and empty pill bottles surrounding your bed frame. As you glanced around, you fiddled with the sobriety coin in your pocket for grounding. A smile crept onto your face as you quickly trashed the paraphernalia. After, you sighed and looked over yourself in the mirror. You had an athletic build, with a little curve in the hips. Growing up in LA, you learned early on that you’ll never be perfect, and in that you found comfort.

As you combed through your closet, your phone buzzed with a notification from Ash. “Wear something sexy, xx” You blushed, knowing he was teasing. You and Ash were definitely best friends, but on occasion, you two would fool around. You never thought anything of it, and you liked not being in control of your body sometimes. Ash would take control of the situation, even down to when you were allowed to cum, and for some reason it was cathartic. Still, he was your best friend because he knew your mind better than you did, and if helping you cum meant you weren’t going to shoot up then he’d do it.

You grabbed a quick shower, being sure to take particular care of your curls. When you finished, the curls were so defined and lengthened you almost didn’t want to straighten your hair. You stared at yourself once more, being sure to thank your body for being itself. This was something you did often as a girl, and to this day it seemed to give you one less thing to be insecure about. You dressed in a black body con latex dress, did a slight glam eye look, and added YSL stilettos for the perfect touch. The thing you loved about silly LA parties was the possibility of meeting the next big scandal or potentially becoming it by the way you were dressed. After straightening your hair, you pulled it back into a low ponytail. Pleased with yourself, you called an uber to the address Ash sent.

Upon arrival, the party was jumping with people and music. You stepped up to the mansion, slathering on another layer of lipgloss. As you entered the door, you were met with the smell of weed and pineapple-flavored vapes. A sigh left your lips as you tucked your gloss into your breast cup. Glancing around the room, your eyes met Ash. Playfully, you winked and continued on into the kitchen to have a drink. You were pouring yourself a shot of Bacardi when you felt hands ghosting your hips. A smile crept on your lips as you thought it was Ashton, only to hear an unfamiliar voice coaxing in your ear. You attempted to free the grip of the stranger, but they only tightened their grasp. You panicked, eyes darting around in search of a weapon. On instinct, you reached for the nearest kitchen knife, driving it into the stranger’s thigh. They immediately collapsed behind you, crying out in pain. Eyes were on you as you stood above the attacker, eyes threatening tears. “Don’t you ever lay a hand on me again,” you shouted, storming off toward the balcony as people cheered you on. As you pushed through the crowd, you met eyes with the stranger from Ashton’s apartment, and for a brief moment, you felt calm.

The balcony was quiet aside from the music. Feeling anxious was always a side effect at these parties, especially when Ash was nowhere in sight. You stared out over the city, taking a huff of the vape you’d stolen from Ashton, only to realize it was out of juice. A grunt left your lips and you chucked the thing over the balcony, watching it fall. Just as you were reaching into your dress to grab a cigarette, the stranger with the buzzcut appeared next to you. “Y’Have another?” His voice was like honey, and you nearly felt your knees go weak. You nodded sheepishly, handing him one. “It’s warm,” he grinned, and you blushed. The two of you stood in silence, looking out over the city. “Sorry that guy attacked you. I wish I was around I would’ve stopped him, not that you need saving it’s jus-“ You stopped his mindless babbling with a kiss. The kiss was innocent and gentle, but it left you wanting more. When you pulled away, you both wiped your mouths and grinned. “I’m Calum” ‘Y/N’ Your heart sighed at the sound of his name.

The two of you stood at the balcony conversing for a bit about LA parties, growing up in the 90s, and your taste in music. You were about to ask if he’d had any siblings when he took his gaze from the city and stared directly into your eyes. “Wanna get out of here? You can’t do any soul searching in a place like this.” He smiled softly at you, a devious glint in your eye. The two of you took to the streets, and Calum took off running down the large hill the house sat atop. “Calum! No fair! My heels!” You yelled after him between fits of laughter. “Take em off” he shouted from the bottom of the hill, and you grinned, kicking them off and scooping them into your hands. You darted down the hill barefoot, right into his arms. He scooped you up, spinning you around as you both giggled.

After mindlessly wandering the gated community, you called an uber back to his place. Instead of you two heading inside, he kept dragging you along to the nearby park. The moon shined perfectly over the swingset you two sat on, and his face simply glowed in the light. Your eyes traced over his features, searching for flaws or some anchor of reality. Nothing. Perhaps he wasn’t real. A nervous laugh left his lips, and you blushed. “Sorry for staring you’re just, uh, real. It’s refreshing.” He blushed slightly, biting his lip a little. “Yeah, you’re real, too. I used to think I’d never meet an actual person in this place. All the fucking rich kids and not a single one of them have a clue.” His words made you shiver a little. You were praying he couldn’t see right through you, but it felt like he could. “Seems like every girl is addicted to being plastic and social media.” A sigh left your lips, and you felt your heart flutter. His eyes were soft as they took in your features, and his hand gripped your thigh lovingly. “You’re different, and I just really wanna know your story one day.” You laid your head on his shoulder, tears flowing down your face. You wanted to know his favorite color, the way he liked his tea, his favorite songs and the reasons why he cried at night, but you also couldn’t bring yourself to tell him about yourself, about your past.

He kissed you. He kissed you like you were air and he never wanted to let you go. His lips against yours, tongue dominating your mouth was enough to send you flying. His hands gripped either side of your face, just below the ear. The kiss was needy yet gentle, but you needed more. You whimpered into his mouth as his right hand gripped your neck, squeezing only slightly. You felt yourself getting wet, and you just hoped soon he would, too. He broke the kiss to stare at you in the moonlight, and a blush rose to your cheeks. He stood from the swingset, walking over to the small field of grass adjacent to you. You watched as he peeled his shirt over his head, revealing his chiseled frame. A groan escaped you and he chuckled. “Patience, angel” he teased before slipping off his pants and laying them out like a blanket for you. He beckoned you over with his index, and you quickly obliged.

You stood in front of him, sliding your hair over the shoulder to allow him access to your zipper. The dress pooled at your feet, and he gently shoved you to your knees. You lay back, watching as he slid out of his boxers. His length sprang free, and the moonlight shone softly over his swollen head leaking precum. He slipped between your legs and easily mounted you. His length inside you alone caused your back to arch, but the slow and rough thrusts he was giving created the obscene noises fleeing your mouth. “F-fuck, faster please” you whined between thrusts, clawing at his back in an attempt to get his attention. He stared down at you, smirking wickedly. Immediately he began thrusting faster, and your eyes squeezed shut while your toes curled. His right hand gripped your throat, squeezing slightly. “Eyes on me, angel” he grunted, and you blushed softly, forcing your eyes open. You gripped his bicep as he continued drilling into you, grazing against your g-spot and pushing you closer to the edge. The minute you heard him whimper, ‘Gonna make me cum, Y/N’, you teetered over the edge. You groaned softly, thrashing under him as he emptied himself into you. You felt his warmth coating your walls, and the thought of him watching it leak out only made you wetter.

He pulled out and stared down at the work he’d done in awe, smirking. “You’re gorgeous down there, especially in the moonlight” He winked, and you shook your head, reaching for your dress and slipping it on. You slipped your heels on and began walking toward Ashton’s apartment. As you were walking you heard Calum call after you, “What about your number?” You chuckled, continuing your walk.

You opened the door to Ash’s place, walking to the pantry and grabbing a Plan B. As you were tossing the pill back, Ash entered the apartment, rushing over to you. He stared you down in disbelief as you swallowed. “Relax, it’s a Plan B” you giggled, and he sighed softly, pulling you into a hug. You pulled away from him, pecking his nose. “You have fun tonight?” He asked with a smile on his lips, pupils were blown. “Yeah, loser, I did. Now I’m headed to bed. Stealing your shirt.” You walked off into Ashton’s bedroom, stripping out of your clothes and realizing you’d lost your sobriety coin. You always carried to parties as a reminder to stay clean, but now that you’d lost it your heart sank. Tears streamed down your face as you felt defeated, and you climbed into bed to cry yourself to sleep.

You woke in the morning with a massive headache and numbness in your chest. Last night was like a fever dream. You hadn’t noticed your hair was frizzy once more, you had raccoon eyes from your mascara, and you were missing an earring. You sighed softly, walking over to the bathroom and rinsing your face with water. You reached under the medicine cabinet, feeling for your secret stash of cocaine, but found nothing. You sighed, storming off out of the bedroom. As you entered the hallway, you could hear voices from the living room. “Man, I fucked this girl last night and it actually felt like I was fucking an angel. She was like heaven to me. “ You gasped softly at the sound of Calum’s voice and stood flush against the wall. You knew you should’ve walked away, but you didn’t. “She was so real, so breathtakingly real. I didn’t even like, wanna fuck her and dash, but she left before I could ask her to come back to mine. She also left behind this weird coin, I think it’s for sobriety?” With that, you stormed into the kitchen, taking the coin from Calum.

Let me know what you think!!! Please!! 

[garyofrivia]

For They Shall Be Satisfied

Arthur Morgan x OC

Chapter 5

(masterlist in bio)

A/N: a short one, but chapter 6 is on the horizon :) thanks for reading!

Warnings/Categories: Violence, Angst

(WC: 1,172)

“If another bull runs off, we’ll be fucked come winter!”

The woman’s voice was distant and muffled. Annie stood near a small house, perched quietly beside an even smaller barn- the only structures for miles around. A small herd of cattle grazed in the distance, and a few horses frolicked in the corral as a little girl watched on.

“Damn it Bridget, I can’t do everything around here!”

“You’re doin’ everything, huh? I raise your children all day! One of ‘em has a cough! I’m sick and tired of the excuses, Nick.”

The front door of the house burst open and a man, presumably Nick, stormed out, muttering in a strange language. A woman - Bridget - followed, her skirts and brilliant red hair rippling in the wind. Her accent was from Dublin, like Molly’s. Nick’s was unrecognizable and yet so familiar, with his tongue hardening the R’s and cutting the consonants short. They didn’t seem to notice her as she watched them. It was like she was behind a window, watching as the outside world unfolded in front of her. 

He gestured to the property and raised his arms in defeat. “I can’t run all this my damn self. I’m going to town today to post something at the general store for a ranch hand. I know you said you didn’t want to hire help because of the money, but-.”

“I jus’,” Bridget paused and looked down. She softened her tone and clasped her hands together, hesitantly. “I jus’ want this to work for us. For our family.”

The man sighed and took her hands. “We’ll make it work, darling. I promise you that. We’ve been beating the odds so far.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that Michael bein’ sick’s got me worried.”

“He’s got your stubbornness, love,” Nick smirked. “He’ll make it through.”

Bridget giggled and pulled him in for a hug. “Be safe on the road, alright?”

“Anastasia!” Nick called. Annie’s own ears perked up as she watched the little girl stand and rush to Nick’s side. He bent down and kissed the top of her head, ruffling her thick, brown hair, messing her ponytail. “Be a good girl and help your mother while I’m gone. I’ll be back for supper.”

“I will, daddy.”

Annie saw the riders before anyone else did. They had come across the field, unnoticed by the couple until they were in front of the house. They were only about five strong, but something about them seemed… evil. The chills up Annie’s spine were enough to convince her to follow her instincts, but when she tried to step forward, she couldn’t move.

“Hello,” Nick said, slowly striding toward his family to stand between them and the strangers. “What can I do for you gentlemen?”

The man in front said something, but his voice was distorted and incoherent. Annie tried to make out their faces, but they were dark, as if they were shrouded by shadows somehow. 

“Of course, it’s about 10 miles in that direction,” Nick said, pointing to the west. 

The man said something else and Bridget shifted uncomfortably. She turned to the little girl, and shuffled her inside the house. “Sweetheart, go check on your brother, will you?” She shut the door before the girl could protest

“The well’s just out back,” Nick answered. “Help yourself.”

The men hitched their horses near the corral and stalked around to the back of the property. The couple exchanged a few words Annie couldn’t make out and both went inside. She heard a board slide into place behind the door, locking it as best they could. Panic flooded into her chest, but she still couldn't move.

A few moments passed and the men went to leave. But one of them, the first one, seemed to stop them. They paused and slowly turned back towards the house, drawing their guns as they approached.

Annie tried to scream, to warn the family, but no noise came. She tried to draw her own gun, but the familiar hilt of her revolver turned to dust at her touch. She was trembling, her feet cemented in the ground and vocal chords seemingly ripped out of her own throat. 

The men stepped onto the small porch and knocked on the door.

“You all best be getting out of here,” Nick said from inside. 

The men’s laughs were clearer than anything she’d ever heard before. Like an operatic chorus, it resonated in her ears and made her skin crawl over her own flesh. She tried to scream again. Nothing. The first man stepped back and slammed the sole of his boot into the center of the door. THUD. The laughter grew louder as he did it again. THUD. And again. THUD And again.

Like a gunshot, the sound of splintering wood was deafening. The air shattered. Darkness consumed the sky. 

***

Annie bolted awake in a cold-sweat. The pain in her side seemed to shoot knives through her whole body with the sudden movement, and for a moment it felt as if the men had turned their guns on her instead, her ears still ringing from the final moments of the dream. A dream… it was just a dream. 

Morphine induced nightmares were always brutal. The last time she’d taken some after she’d been shot the first time, she had the same dream about falling off a cliff, over and over again. But this one she hadn’t seen before. Though, the lingering feeling it left her with gave her the sense that she had. 

She tried to catch her breath as she glanced around to orient herself. She was laying in Arthur’s cot in camp, and she noticed the crescent moon peeking out from behind a few clouds. How long have I been asleep?

A soft snore to her beside her caught her attention. Arthur was tucked into his bedroll and an extra wool blanket, curled into a ball to keep warm. His arm was outstretched towards the bed, palm down, and she briefly wondered if he’d fallen asleep holding her hand. The thought brought a soft smile to her face and a calm washed over her, her heartbeat slowing from the panic of the dream. The pain from the wound throbbed since the medication wore off, but it suddenly didn’t even matter. 

Letting herself fall back onto the pillow, she turned towards him as much as her body would allow her. She watched him breathe steadily, with the occasional twitch in his sleep. His face was soft and peaceful, the wrinkles near his eyes not as pronounced as they usually are. He looked younger, almost. Innocent and kind like the man she only saw glimpses of from under the facade of anger and ruthlessness. 

She let her arm fall off the side of the bed, her fingers finding his. He met her touch with a slight squeeze as he slept, and she could have sworn she saw a smile tugging at his lips as she fell into unconsciousness once again.

[xuteline-blog]

I want you to love me now

read on ao3!

Word Count: 3,489

Pairing: Seonghwa/Hongjoong

Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Feelings Realization, Past Relationship(s), Getting Back Together, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Chatting & Messaging, seonghwa jus wants to be held..., and thats exactly what hongjoong will do!!, Kissing, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, Not Beta Read

Description:

Seonghwa didn't know who he had expected to be there at Yunho's movie night marathon. All he was told by Yeosang was that he had invited a couple friends over. He had never thought he'd find himself reunited with the very person that taught him what love really was, and to have a chance at it again.

Seonghwa knew what love was. He knew about it before he was even in preschool.

His mother and father, holding hands as they stared into each other's eyes, whispering confessions before giving a peck on the lips to eachother, waving goodbye as one of them left.

His mother and fathers thumbs caressing eachothers hands, sitting on the couch as his fathers arms enveloped his mothers frame, both content, both warm.

His mother and father, in love.

He saw it every day. He knew what love was.

He was told in class once that being in love would be when hes most happiest. He was told in class once that being in love was what everyone wanted. He was told in class once that being in love felt like you were a firework, about to be ignited, and when you saw the person you loved, you would light up, and felt like as if your body was on fire.

He was told about it every day. He knew what love was.

It wasn't until Seonghwa reached his senior years in high school that he contemplated love. Looking back, he had never really felt what people told him love felt like. He had had his fair shares of relationships, and by the way he felt absolutely downtrodden after his breakup with a guy in his class two years ago, he really had thought he had been in love. But maybe... it was just infatuation? Maybe an oblivious case of puppy love.

He remembered the day clearly.

It was stormy, the rain pouring down as Seonghwa looked out the window of the library. He had came here to study, as his last exam was coming up and he couldnt afford to fail. His scholarship depended on it.

He sat alone at a table, the librarian allowing him to keep his hot chocolate as his books and papers laid in front of him, his small makeshift study desk unorganised and messy.

He watched as the rain droplets danced around each other, how they stepped close before stepping back before colliding together, catching eachother and finishing their dance at the bottom of the window pane.

What a weird metaphor, he thought. Rain droplets, two lovers dancing around each other and away, too scared to cross paths before giving their all to their other.

He had never felt such a way.

A hand slammed on his desk, tearing him away from his thoughts. He looked up at the culprit, his wide eyes furrowing as he took in who had scared him.

"Hongjoong," He stopped twirling his pen between his fingers, holding it steady as its tip nearly touched paper. "What do you need?"

"I just wanted to check on you!" Hongjoong smiled, and Seonghwa felt warmth blossom in his chest at the confession. Hongjoong grabbed a chair from the table infront of Seonghwa, turning it to sit at Seonghwas desk. "You've been hauling yourself up here a lot lately, I was worried if you were doing good," Seonghwa fought a smile as the shorter boy sat down, leaning onto Seonghwas table.

"I have been doing fine, just studying," Hongjoong furrowed his eyebrows at the statement.

"But exams have finished?"

"Not this last one, its an exam to confirm whether or not I will be going to my desired University,"

"Oh? But i thought the scholarship covered that?"

"No, it was like a golden ticket. All expenses paid and a course set for me as long as I ace this exam,"

"What happens if you dont pass?"

"They take my scholarship and give it to someone else. They also refer me to other universities and colleges that would suit me if I so ask them too," Hongjoong looked down at the desk, eyes examining the strewn papers as he pouted. Seonghwa could fight the smile that ordained his face.

"Whens the exam?" Seonghwa grabbed one of his textbooks and his writing book, copying a few things down.

"On Friday," Hongjoongs eyes widened, his mouth agape.

"Thats only two days away! You better be studying!"

"You said you came up here because of how ive been," Seonghwa put down his pen, raising his hands to make air quotes. "'Hauling myself up here'"

Hongjoong banged the table, causing a semi loud bang to exho through the library. The librarian looked aorund the corner, pinpointing Hongjoong with her glare and shushing him. Hongjoongs cherks turned red as embarrassment took over him.

"I-I know i said that! I just— didn't you just have your last school exam yesterday, then? Have you been studying for this exam while stuudying for the schools ones, or just started now?" Seonghwa wtched as Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, a pout making its way back onto his face.

"I had been studying for this since Saturday, ap you do not need to worry. In fact, i think this may be my last long study session for a while. I'm pretty confident of where i stand right now," Hongjoong looked up at Seonghwa, a small smile forming.

"Thats nice to hear. Does that mean you could probably hang out with us tomorrow? We all miss you..." Hongjoong trailed off, having grabbed Seonghwas pen and spinning it on the table. Seonghwa felt more warmth course through his body at the statement. He missed them too.

"I will, do not fret. I've just been—"

"—We know you've been busy! You don't need to say it, we all have been busy!," Seonghwa stared at Hongjoong, the sudden outburst unexpected. "But... That was a yes?" Hongjoong sat up straighter, his eyes wide and sparkling. How cute.

...Cute?

"Yes, I will be there Joongie, don't worry," Hongjoong jumped up, startling Seonghwa. He grabbed Seonghwas hands and held the tight, smiling brightly.

"After school, meet up at the front gates, do not be a single minute late!" And as quickly as Hongjoong had showed up, he ran off, barreling through the library doors with a bang, the librarian looking at Seonghwa with a frown while the boy stared at his hands, caught off guard by what Hongjoong had done.

He traced his left hand with his right, and his right with his left, eyes wide as he felt the tingles in his hands slowly dissipate. He felt somewhat... giddy. A rush from when Hongjoong had touched him. Seonghwa felt heat rise on his cheeks.

And while his body was still riding the high of the moment, from when Hongjoong held his hands, to his bright smiles directed at him, he couldn't help but think 'Oh no'.

***************************

It was a stormy day, and Seonghwa was stuck in his dorm. His roommate had left earlier, telling Seonghwa that he was visiting his parents for the week. So here Seonghwa was, alone in his dorm, a storm playing out right in front of him, and his hands curled around a cup full of hot chocolate as he lived carelessly for the week off. What more could he ask for?

He sipped his hot beverage, humming in content as he swirled the hot chocolate in his mouth, savouring the taste.

As he reminisced in the moment, his phone chimed. Seonghwa turned his head towards his phone, glancing at the notification on the lock screen. He leant over, grabbing the phone and unlocking it. He clicked on the notification, which was a message, and read it.

hehet

would u be free rn?

Seonghwa stared at the message eyebrows furrowed before sighing and putting his hot chocolate down.

pluto

yes I would, why?

also, why pluto

hehet

cuz u aint real 😍😍😌

pluto

what

pluto is real sangie

its just not a planet

sangie.

hehet

omfg stop bullying me

hehet changed pluto's name to bully!

bully

youre insufferable

hehet

u love it

ok anyway what i actually came here for

so ur actually free to do anythin today??

bully

yes sangie, im free today

why, did something happen? do you need me to come over and hang out?

hehet

no no, dw

just needed to make sure so everything goes according to plan

ok so anyway

come meet us at yunhos dorm, were havin a mini movie party n meeting some of his friends!!

bully

oh?

what kind of movies? and what kind of friends?

hehet

idk but not horror thats all i know!! i remember yunho sayin he wanted to watch some disney or nostalgic films so theres that

also !! do not worry abt the friends!!

they r super kind n funny, youll love em :]

bully

youve already met them? thats kind rude :/

hehet

it was by accident :[[

i went over to yunhos to give him back a hoodie he left at our last study sess @ my dorm n i met em!!

it was only for a minute, i was rushin since i was late to class

bully

hmm... ok, ill accept it

what time will it be then?

hehet

at 4 and if yunhos roomate does end up coming home early from his mini trip, itll end at 10, but if not, we can stay the night

bully

not to be rude, but i really hope his roommate does not come back to the dorms until later tomorrow

hehet

same

knowing us, we'd just pass out on the couch anywaybully

ok u guys will, im responsible

hehet

sounds pretty fake ngl :///

bully

ok then, i shall go back to what i was doing before you messaged me

hehet

wait seonghwa i wanna keep talkin im bored :[[

seonghwa??

seongie??

ddeonghwa????

: [

***************************

It was an hour before Seonghwa had to leave. He had just gotten out of the shower, mostly wiped down, but his hair was still dripping.

He shook his head, feeling his hair stick to his face and water droplets fly everywhere. He brought up the towel to his head and vigorously dried his hair.

After drying himself down, he got dressed. Nothing extravagant or formal, but something comfortabe and simple. It was practically a sleep over he was invited to, after all.

It was now 15 minutes till Seonghwa would have to be at Yunho's. He know walking to Yunho's dorm would take at least 10 minutes, since it was not on the other side of campus, but a far bit away.

Seonghwa went through his mental checklist. Phone, check. Charger, check. Earphones, check. Small over the shoulder bag full of snacks, a pair of spare clothes, and an apparent rose flavoured lip balm, check.

At the thought of the lip balm, he licked his lips. His lips had been dry during the week from the cold weather, so he took up Yeosangs advice on picking up one or two lip balms. Of course, he bought the only ones that were supposedly to be what a flower would taste like. He picked up the lip balm, applying it to his lips and smacking them together before putting it back.

He checked the time.

12 minutes left.

He grabbed all his things, his keys jingling in his hands and a dmall umbrella in his pockets. He opened his dorm door, exiting and locking the door before finally leaving the dorm building. He grabbed his umbrella, opening it up once he stepped foot outside, wlaking along the footpath, frowning when he noticed the mud making its way across the path.

He sighed as the rain started to pour harder, his grip tightening on his umbrella.

He did not want to walk back to his dorm through this weather.

***************************

He made it to Yunho's dorm a bit later than he had expected. His shoes were caked in mud, and no, he did not slip in mud, he just wanted to be like Peppa Pig for a fleeting moment.

He knocked on Yunho's door, wiping his shoes off at the mat and taking them off. He shook his umbrella, the water flying everywhere. Maybe he should ahve done that outside, but it was too late now.

The door opened, revealing Yeosang who just pouted.

"You're late," Seonghwa pushed past Yeosang, dropping his umbrella near the door and placing his shoes near the rest. There's definitely a few new pairs there, either Yunho got more shoes, or his friends are already here.

"You try walking here in this weather," A few laughs were heard in the distance. Yep, definitely here.

Yeosang shook his head, closing and locking the door. He turned to Seonghwa, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards lounge.

"So, what's happened so far?"

"Nothing much! Just been playing some switch waiting for you," Yeosang stopped as they made it to the lounge. "Look who's here!" Seonghwa looked at the three men that were on the couch, all three watching the TV as they battled in MarioKart.

"Is it Seonghwa?" Yunho asked before he crossed the finish line, jumping up and laughing.

"I win!" The man sat on the right of Yunho crossed the line next, pointing to the man that sat on the left of Yunho, laughing.

"And you're last!" The man on the left sighed, corssing the line.

"Wow, that was so fun," Yunho laughed, the man that came second now standing up and turning around. Huh, almost as tall as Yunho.

"Let me introduce them to you, Hwa?" The man on the left, stood up, but still didnt turn around. Quite short, thats cute.

"This," Yunho gestured towards the taller man out of the two newcomers. "Is Mingi," The man now identified as Mingi waved his hand, a smile plastered on his face.

"And this," Yunho reached over to the smaller man, grabbibg his shoulder and forcefully turning him around. "Is—"

For a moment, the world stopped.

For a moment, their eyes met.

For a moment, they were seeing eachother again.

"—Hongjoong?" Seonghwa blurted out, cutting off Yunho. The shorter man, now known as Hongjoong, shared a similar expression to Seonghwa, yes wide and mouth agape.

Holding hands, watching as the sun set over the horizon, the light painting his face, his eyes sparkling.

"Seonghwa?" Yunho looked between the two, confusion plastered all over his face.

Bright smiles, warm laughs. Soft lips, peppered kisses.

"You two knew eachother?" Seonghwa nodded, at a loss for words as he stared at the boy infront of him.

"Thats so cool! It's like it's fate for you two to meet again," Yunho exclaimed. "But come on, we gotta get ready for our movie marathon, its half hour past the time we were supise to start!"

***************************

It was around midnight that Seonghwa finally couldnt take the awkwardness around him and Hongjoong. He got up from his spot on the floor, making his way to the kitchen and flicked on the light, going to grab a drink and a snack from his bag.

As he trifled through his bag, finding the pack of chips he craved for, he turned around and almost felt his soul leave his body.

There was Hongjoong, standing right in front of him.

He had to hold back a scream.

"Woah! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Hongjoong threw his hands up, taking a step back.

Seonghwa gained back his thoughts, the adrenaline dissipating.

"Do you need something?" He asked. He watched as Hongjoong suddenly became nervous, looking down at his feet. He has red hair... it looks... fluffy.

"I-I just... I kinda wanted to talk to you?" Seonghwa felt heat rise to his cheeks as he ran through the possibilities of just what Hongjoong would possibly say.

"About what?"

Silence overtook the two for a moment. Then Hongjoong spoke up.

"About... why you left," Seonghwa shifted his body, suddenly feeling so small. "Why you never contacted us," He felt shame slowly seep through his body. "Why you... never contacted... me," He looked down at his feet.

No one spoke for a minute, both thinking, both waiting.

"I never did get my scholarship..." Hongjoong looked up at Seonghwa, eyes wide.

"Wha—"

"I passed the exam for it, but by the time the people giving out the scholarship had marked it, all the scholarships had been given away,"

Seonghwa felt tears begin to pool in his eyes.

"I was so disappointed in myself, I didnt want you all to see me," He inhaled shaky breath, emotions coming back as he relived the moment in his mind. "So I just told you all that I got in and... left,"

He felt Hongjoong take his hands, caressing them softly. Like he used too.

"Why did you never talk to me after? You didnt even tell me you wanted to break up," Hongjoongs voice broke near the end. "You just went... radio silent," Seonghwa couldn't help the tear that ran down his face.

"I never wanted to break up," Seonghwa squeezed Hongjoongs hands. "I just— I wanted time, time to fix things, so i could say I was attending college, that I wasn't a fuck up..." He felt Hongjoong squeeze his hands back, he heard how the other boy sniffled. He must be crying too.

"Seonghwa, listen to me," Suddenly, Hongjoong was cupping his face, his hands so soft, and his eyes looking straight into Seonghwas soul. "You are not a fuck up, you hear me?"

"I'm sorry," His voice broke, tears now streaming down his face, one after the other. Hongjoong had tears slipping down his face himself. He lifted his thumb, wiping some tears off Seonghwas face.

"It's okay, I forgive you, HwaHwa," Seonghwa couldn't help but let a whine escape him at the nickname.

"HwaHwa! You're so cute!"

Hongjoong laughed wetly at the reaction.

"You'd think i forget what that nickname did to you," He stroked Seonghwas cheek lovingly, smiling fondly at Seonghwa, and Seonghwa couldnt help but feel his previous worries disappear just looking at him.

Seonghwa buried his face into Hongjoongs neck and threw his arms around Hongjoongs shoulders, letting another embarrassed whine escape him.

Hongjoong laughed at the action, snaking his arms around Seonghwas waist. They both stayed in that position for a few minutes, iust enjoying the company, the warmth. Enjoying eachother.

Hongjoong threw his arms over Seonghwas neck, pulling him down to give him a strong hug.

"Your hugs are the best, Joongie,"

Seonghwa felt Hongjoong shift, his hold on Seonghwa loosening. He felt a hand coursing through his hair, the action sending shivers down his spine, and a blush on his cheeks.

"I've missed this," Hongjoong whispered. Seonghwa picked his head back up, looking at Hongjoong.

"I did too," Hongjoong smiled.

Hongjoong raised his hand, putting it under Seonghwas chin and slowly pulling him down back towards him. Soon enough, their noses were touching, and they could feel eachothers breaths fan eachothers faces.

It took just a moment for Seonghwa to understand what Hongjoong wanted to do.

He looked to Hongjoongs eyes, noticing how they flickered back up to his then fown to his lips. Seonghwa did the same, his gaze lowering down to Hongjoongs own plush lips.

Seonghwa unconsciously licked his own.

"Can I..." Hongjoong trailed off, but Seonghwa knew what he was asking. He nodded his head, feeling Hongjoong pull him closer.

Then he felt Hongjoongs lips on his.

And suddenly, he felt like he was back in high school. When Hongjoong would sneak up on him in the bathrooms to give him a few wuick pecks on the lips before running away. When Hongjoonga arms would wrap around his his waist, pulling him into his lap, and even if Seonghwa was the taller one out of them, Hongjoong would always find a way to make Seonghwa feel small and safe in his arms.

He felt light again, like all his problems had been thrown away. He felt like the weight he carried had been lifted.

Seonghwa broke the kiss first, gasping for air, breathless. His lips a shade of bright pink

Hongjoong just stared at the boy, breath taken at the sight before him.

Hongjoong pulled Seonghwa back down again, both diving in for a kiss, each one more heated than the last.

Soon enough, both broke away, catching their breathe as they were pushed against eachother.

"I've wanted to do that for so long since then. I've missed it sso much," Hongjoong panted out.

"Me too," Seonghwa took a hold of Hongjoongs hands, looping his fingers between his own.

"This means that, you know," Hongjoong was anxious again, eyes flicking from Seonghwa to the floor. "That we'll do this again... right? That—"

"That we'll be back together?" Seonghwa cut in, heart beating fast at what Hongjoong was asking.

"Yes," Hongjoong looked up at Seonghwa, still nervous on what the answer would be.

And Seonghwa couldn't have answered more perfectly.

"Of course," Seonghwa dived back in for another kiss, this one not heated, but filled with something more deeper. He broke the kiss, burying his face in Hongjoongs neck. "Of course,"

"I love you," Seonghwa felt his heart stutter.

"I love you too," Hongjoong smiled, pulling Seonghwa towards him.

"Forever," Hongjoong whispered.

"Always," Seonghwa whispered back.

[mtraki]

Morning greeted Arthur at the closing of the front door.  Still as stiff and hurting as the day before, his ribs protested when he struggled to his feet from the floor to peer around the curtain, out the window.  He could see Samuel heading for the stables in the dim light.  In this room shared with Lenny, there were no new notes today, and the tray from earlier was gone.  Breakfast would be downstairs.  Lenny was still out.

“Wake up soon, kid…”

Hosea was also still sleeping when Arthur went to peek in on him, and he thought his color looked a little better than it had some hours earlier.

Downstairs, he followed the scent of coffee into the kitchen, and there he found Miss Carrie working the stove with eggs and toast.

“Good mornin’, miss.”

“Mhmm,” Was the response, “An’ you.”

“Can I get some coffee?”

“Sure, gimme jus’ a minute to get you a cup.” Taking a moment to arrange the skillet, the woman turned and opened a cupboard a bit down the kitchen, plucking out a cup, “You want me to pour it for you?” “Nah, I think I can manage,” He chuckled, “Ain’t used to bein’ waited on like your Miss Bligh…”

It was apparently the wrong thing to say, as the dark eyes leveled at him, “… I know you ain’t comin’ in my kitchen to talk some nonsense about Miss Bligh…”

“Now, now… No, I did not, miss.  I’m jus’ sayin’ it how I see it–”

“–Well, then either you blind, mister, or you an idiot.  What?  You think ‘cause I’m colored, an’ Miss Bligh rich I’m some kind of slave or servant?”

“I see you in here doin’ the cookin’, an’ last evenin’ too– maybe I got it wrong…”

“Sure, I do the cookin’!  Not all of it, but enough of it.  I do some cleanin’ as well, as it needs doin’, but if you didn’t know, that’s how you care for a house, mister outlaw.  You gotta keep it clean an’ keep folks fed.”

“Well sure– Look, I meant no offense, Miss Carrie, just forget I said anything…”

“You’d best hope I do, mister outlaw.” In a huff, the woman turned for her skillet again, then remembered she still had the cup.  Even more irritated, she set the cup down firmly by the pot of coffee on the preparation table, “Here.  An’ don’ make a mess or I’ll have you cleanin’.”

Arthur quietly poured himself some coffee and started to retreat out of the kitchen.  Back at her skillet, Miss Carrie gave one last scolding.

“You take yourself outdoors, mister outlaw, an’ keep quiet.  Miss Bligh was up all night seein’ to your outlaw friends, so you let her sleep now.  Don’ let me catch you botherin’ her.  You ain’t so big…”

Outside, the morning was cool, almost cold, and Arthur slowly walked the property, deciding to avoid the stables for the moment, sipping coffee.  Immediately he was caught in the realization that this brew wasn’t burnt– as tended to happen in their camps fairly often– and there was something different about the taste itself.  Maybe something different with the coffee beans?  Wealthy people coffee.

Besides the stables and the house, he discovered the gardens and the chicken coop not far from the porch.  One turned over plot was lined with bricks in an oval and grew flowers and flowering herbs.  The other were neat rows of vegetables in a rectangle.  Further behind the mansion was another building that looked like a barn, but upon closer investigation– the doors weren’t locked after all– he discovered was the carriage house, with a very fine, custom carriage and harnesses for four, all well-oiled and waxed under their dust cloths.

He could probably get over a hundred dollars for it at the fence in Emerald Ranch, if he could get it there in one piece.

Out behind the property, the land grew rockier and steadily climbed up toward the forested foothills.  It was a good place from which to approach the property if somebody wanted to attack, though dangerous for horses.  Watching the slowly rising rocks and trees, Arthur had the feeling he was being watched by unseen eyes.  He wanted his guns.

When nothing made itself known, however, the outlaw turned and headed for the stables.  Samuel had apparently finished his fence repairs and was hauling hay bales from the barn.  Trotting in from the run behind his stall, Slim whickered at Arthur’s approach.

“Hey, boy,” He greeted warmly, “You been good?”

The long black tail swished in response and the big Ardennes trotted back out into his run.

“I know, you don’ like bein’ stalled, boy…”

Maggie was enjoying her run as well, and seemed altogether much more content.  Silver Dollar was on the other side, still half-asleep.

Lancaster’s stall was empty, and looking out into the paddock, Arthur could see the big black stallion, mane and tail long, big hooves full of feather.  He was a majestic animal, the outlaw could readily admit, and he carried himself like he knew it, trotting energetically around the perimeter before plunging and blowing, getting the concern of the mares in their pasture.

Feeling Samuel watch him watch the resident stud, Arthur turned to meet the look, taking a final sip from the coffee– the dregs cold by now, “…Miss Carrie don’ want me in the house,” he said, as way of explanation, “and I figure I ought to see to my own horses… but looks like you already done feedin’… Can’t say either of ‘em are used to grain like this…” The young man just blinked at him, flexing his work-hardened hands.

“Say, feller, you mind tellin’ me where our saddles and gear got stowed?  Or… showin’ me rather?”

After a moment, Samuel gestured to an open door between two stalls– a little room, tucked in there.  Moving to investigate, Arthur found a room full of saddles– but only four of them looked like any proper saddle he’d ever seen, and one of them was his, a second was Lenny’s, and a third was Hosea’s– it was propped on a stand instead of on a rack on the wall, and the leather looked recently cleaned, though it was still stained with blood.  The others were too small, and too sleek, hornless, and stirrupless.  Some others had crooked protrusions of leather off to one side, making the outlaw wonder how somebody was supposed to sit on the horse’s back at all.  But his saddle, saddle bags, longarm holsters, and bedroll were there, and as far as he could tell, so were Lenny’s and Hosea’s.  Their weapons, ammunition, and provisions were not.

There was a big trunk on the floor that was about to get Arthur’s personal attention, but then he heard Miss Carrie hollering from the porch about breakfast, and Samuel appeared in the doorway of the little room, gesturing for him to come along.

“… An’ she tol’ me to be quiet…” The outlaw muttered to the younger man who shrugged and gave the ghost of a wry smile.

Breakfast turned into a tense occasion.  Miss Bligh’s appearance caused her companions alarm and Arthur some mild curiosity.  Her face betrayed her sleepless night, but more than that, both her forearms were black and blue from wrist to elbow like she’d been on the wrong end of a fist-fight.  But nobody said anything about it.

They weren’t asking, and Arthur didn’t want to make it his business–though he had his suspicions and decided he would not be taken by surprise.

She informed him pleasantly about Hosea and Lenny’s conditions, mentioning how she was certain they were both recovering well.  Then there was a repeat of the chatter from dinner, asking after everyone’s night and plans for the day.  The outlaw did not feel it overly uncouth to interrupt– and even if it were, it wasn’t as if he minded them thinking him uncouth.

“Miss, I don’ mean to sound ungrateful for all your help, but I’m gonna have to ask you where you put the rest of my and my friends’ things.”

When the silent staring stretched too long, he pushed back noisily from the table, aware of the aggression in his movements.

“Miss… I’m gonna have to insist you tell me…”

Samuel was climbing to his feet as well, in a much less abrupt manner, folding his cloth napkin and setting it aside instead of letting it fall to the floor as Arthur had.  But the outlaw’s gaze was on Miss Bligh’s face, on her bruised-looking, lake water eyes.

“Now?” Was her question.

“Right now.” He affirmed, “Unless you got a good reason for keepin’ them from me.”

Well,” She said quietly, “I don’t intend to keep your things from you at all, mister, though I can’t imagine you have a reason for needing them, right now, at breakfast.”

“I’ll accept them after…”

“I’ll be happy to furnish you with them, then.”

Watching her expression carefully, still, Arthur added, “… The guns as well.”

She blinked at him, but otherwise that kind, quiet patience never shifted from her face, “You must excuse me, but I do not at all understand what you may need any weapons for.  Nobody here means you any harm, mister.”

“You’ll excuse me if I insist on them anyway, Miss Bligh.”

Still her expression never changed, but she looked him in the eyes, and Arthur felt the moment stretch.  There was something surreal in it, and he felt gripped by whatever power was in the space between breaths.  Like he was being pinned down and examined, body and soul, by those lake water eyes.

 "… Alright,“ She said at length, "but for now, please sit down and finish your breakfast.”