#okay but imagine herself training herself to write perfectly with both hands

[nikkento-writes]

Babysitter - Part 2

Pairing: dad!Toji x babysitter!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~3.8k

cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), explicit language, cheating, pregnancy, smut – PIV sex (doggy style)

Summary: You deal with the aftermath of your summer babysitting job turned adulterous summer scandal.

Author’s Notes: Thanks for all the kind words and support on Part 1 of this! I hope you enjoy part 2, and who knows, maybe I'll write a part 3 one day lol. Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

Taglist: @scorpiosugar @diegojeanne @f4irygard3n @cvixmei @soniiyi - more tags in the comments

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You blink away the tears in your eyes, holding the pregnancy test, hoping that somehow, you’ll blink away the second line indicating that you are indeed pregnant.

“No way.” Chiyo waits for you outside the stall, the apprehension in her voice apparent.

“Yes. I’m…” There’s a lump in your throat you have to swallow before you finish your sentence. “Pregnant.”

Your best friend’s silence on the other side only makes you panic more, but you don’t blame her. What can she really say to make any of this better? To stop your world from turning upside down?

She whispers your name quietly, at a complete loss for words. Then, she clears her throat, sounding as if she’s fighting tears herself. “I’m going to buy you a melon pan. Just…wait for me here, okay?” It’s the only consolation she can offer you in this moment, huddled in a public restroom of a convenience store; you appreciate the effort, nonetheless. You wait for her to leave, completely alone now. As soon as she’s gone, you sob into your hands.

It's not that you oppose being a mother. You’ve always imagined handing a positive pregnancy test to the love of your life with the biggest smile on your face, excited to raise a family together. Ideally, this would have happened sometime in the future, once you’ve established yourself as a full-fledged adult. Not like this: twenty-one years-old, less than a year until graduation without the slightest clue what you’re doing with your life. Worst of all, the father isn’t your husband, a boyfriend, even a friend. It’s Toji Fushiguro, the dad of the little boy you babysat over the summer, the husband of the kind woman who hired you. You still haven’t forgiven yourself for your adultery, the guilt eating away at you since the start of that lecherous summer fling. And now, you have this pee-on-a-stick to remind you how incredibly reckless you were to get involved with him in the first place. How undeniably irresponsible you were to have unprotected sex with a married man. Sure, it was the best sex you’ll probably ever have in your life. But was it worth it?

You wrap the pregnancy test in toilet paper, tossing it in the trash bin. Knowing that no good will come out of sulking in the 7-11 bathroom any longer, you finally exit the stall, washing your hands clean at the sink. Your phone vibrates in your back pocket as you stare at your reflection in the mirror, fixated on your belly, wondering what it will look like round and full of life. It buzzes again, snapping you out of your trance. When you check to see who’s messaging, you almost drop your phone out of shock.

Somehow, someway, the universe has it out for you. Because in the most perfectly disastrous timing ever, Mrs. Fushiguro decides to contact you.

~~~

A week later, you’re sitting on the train, heading to the Fushiguro household. Your stomach is in knots, both from anxiety and from the morning sickness. Sweat beads on your forehead, skin sticky against your clothing in this hot weather. The closer you approach your destined stop, the more and more nervous you get, almost convinced to call the whole thing off.

Believe it or not, Mrs. Fushiguro did not contact you to confront you about the dirty deeds you did with her husband. Instead, she messaged you in dire need of a babysitter once again. She spares you the details, asking if you could meet her in person to better explain herself. And for whatever reason, you agree.

You haven’t come up with a solid plan yet on what you want to do about your little predicament. So far, the only people that know are Chiyo and your parents, who, after the initial shock of it all, have been surprisingly supportive. They advised you to take the rest of the term off, which you were able to get arranged quickly through your school. This gives you several weeks to decide what you need to do. With one issue resolved, it leaves you with the next, and the most pressing: whether or not you should tell the father. The last thing you want is to break apart the Fushiguro family. You’re fully prepared to raise this baby as a single mother, which, with the help of your parents and best friend, seems doable. Besides, you’re not even sure if you want Toji to be involved considering his complete lack of interest in his other child, Megumi. Despite that, you believe that as the father, he has the right to know. Can you gather the courage to actually tell him?

Still lost in your train of thought, you hop off to walk to the house. When you arrive, you spot Mrs. Fushiguro already outside, leaning against her car in the driveway with little Megumi in her arms. They both smile upon seeing you, warming your heart. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for whatever is to come. 

“Hello Mrs. Fushiguro,” you greet her, bowing politely, too shy to meet her gaze. “How are you?”

“Doing really well. Thank you for coming on such short notice.” She lets her son down, who steps towards you until he’s hugging your knee, cooing. “I wanted to talk to you in person about my complicated situation.”

“Is everything alright?” you ask, unable to resist kneeling down to meet Megumi at eye level, making funny faces at him.

She giggles. “Oh, everything is great! The divorce finally went through and I’m living with my new boyfriend now, who’s been the absolute best, especially with Megumi.”

You make a shocked expression, mouth agape, exaggerated for the kid’s entertainment, though you’re pretty much stunned yourself. “Divorce…?”

“Yeah! Toji and I have been separated for a long time now. I’m sorry I didn’t mention that over the summer. You’re still so young after all, no need to rope you into adult things.”

You almost bust out laughing at the irony, but you hold your tongue, continuing to listen to her.

She sighs, flipping her long, beautiful hair behind her shoulders. “That being said, I still care about the guy. I mean, he is the father of my child. Without me or Megumi there on a regular basis, the whole house has gone to shit. It seems like he’s actually taking this divorce pretty hard. So, I want to hire you as a babysitter for my ex-husband. Just for a little while until he can get back up on his feet.”

Another shocked face, which makes Megumi laugh while dread sinks into your chest. “Babysitter…?”

“Babysitter, housekeeper, whatever you want to call it. You did such a wonderful job with him over the summer, even while you were taking care of Megumi! I don’t know what you were feeding him. Whatever it was, he was definitely a little bit nicer when you were around.”

Lewd flashbacks replay in your mind of Toji eating you out sloppily, slurping up all your pussy juices in every room of the house. You focus on the ground, too ashamed to look at her. “Mrs. Fushiguro, I don’t know if I can do this.”

She squats to your level, reaching for your hand, holding it gently in hers. “I know this is a lot of ask. You’re the only one I can rely on for this. Please.”

A sense of déjà vu hits you. There’s desperation in her tone and it tugs at your heartstrings the same way it did when you first met her a few months ago. It doesn’t help that Megumi is now squeezing the index finger of your other hand, eyes full of curious wonder, grip surprisingly strong for such a young child. Would she be pleading with you like this if she knew the truth about you, Toji, and the baby? Even though they were separated during this whole ordeal, it doesn’t make what you did any better; you still decided to do it regardless of their marital status.

Maybe you can use this opportunity as a way to atone.  

You finally look at her, giving the most convincing smile you can muster, trying your best to ignore the wave of nausea washing over you. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

~~~

Mrs. Fushiguro asks you to start at noon the following day, giving her enough time to notify her ex about your temporary employment. When you use the set of keys she gave you to open the front door, you step inside cautiously, not sure what to expect. You’ve been dreading this impromptu reunion all night, wondering if you could even face him.

It’s a mess inside, heaps of dirty laundry scattered all over the furniture, fast food wrappers and empty ramen bowls littered on the kitchen counter. There’s a stench lingering in the stale air in here and you almost think the worse, but Mrs. Fushiguro had warned you about this. Seeing it in person is more heartbreaking than disgusting. Toji really is taking this divorce hard. It wouldn’t be right to burden him with more life-changing news, right?

You begin by gathering all the trash into garbage bags, flattening any cardboard to recycle. By the looks of it, he’s been living off junk food and protein bars for the past month. The refrigerator is near empty, aside from a questionable take-out container in the very back, which you end up dumping along with everything else. You make it your next task to get groceries after you load the washing machine.

When you return from the store, Toji remains absent. Nerves prevent you from leaning against the bedroom door to listen for any signs of him in there. His ex-wife mentioned that he goes out to gamble at the horse races whenever he’s short on cash, so it’s likely he’s there. Still, you’re anticipating his return, mentally preparing yourself for how you’ll behave around him. Given your current circumstances, you are serious about turning over a new leaf. No more funny business with him. Absolutely not.

It’s near dinnertime now and you’ve miraculously accomplished tidying the house and doing his laundry all within a few hours. You even managed to cook soup for dinner, full of hearty beef and fresh vegetables, something to provide nutrients compared to the processed food he’s been consuming lately. You’re stirring the pot when you hear keys jingle from outside the front door. He comes in, clad in a tight-fitting black shirt that accentuates his muscles and grey sweatpants that don't leave much to the imagination. A plastic bag is slung behind his shoulder, clearly from a convenience store. Despite his concerning diet, his physique is still impressive as ever. Just one glance at him has you fluttering below your belly, replaying the erotic memories you share together. You turn to face him, standing up straight, feigning confidence while you fret internally. He looks at you, brow raised slightly, a small smirk forming on his lips.

“Hello sir,” you greet him, bowing politely. Acting as if he’s a total stranger and not the man who rocked your entire world over the summer, now with evidence to prove it.

He sets the bag on the counter, revealing a couple of ramen packets inside. “What’s with the formalities?” he asks, grinning. “If I remember correctly, you were screaming my name nonstop the last time you were here.”

Heat rushes into your cheeks instantly, not surprised by his vulgarity, though still embarrassed. You clear your throat, trying to stay strong. “I’m here to work. Nothing else.”

He walks towards you, his stature casting a daunting shadow as he steps closer and closer, towering over you. His voice is low, borderline threatening to a point that has you trembling. “So you don’t want me to fuck you anymore?”

You swallow hard, composure wavering. “That’s right.”  Even you don’t fully believe it when it comes out of your own mouth, how can you expect him to?

There’s a strange look in his eyes, almost like he’s disappointed by your response. He turns his back to you, mumbling something about taking a shower. You watch him enter his bedroom, hearing him clear as day before he shuts the door with a dull thud. “I guess you don’t want me either.”

~~~

A week into being Toji’s live-in housekeeper, the two of you figure out a routine together that involves minimal interaction. You wake up in the morning to cook breakfast, eating it quickly and leaving the rest for him while you go out. You use this time to go for a walk, meet with Chiyo or your parents, do some grocery shopping, or just sit at the nearby park, enjoying the sun with your baby, who grows little-by-little each day.

Toji is usually gone the whole afternoon, either working out or gambling, so you’re able to do chores back at the house, like cleaning his room. He doesn’t return until dinnertime when tension seems to be at its highest. A big reason for that is because he’s made it a habit to eat right after his shower, shirtless and with his legs crossed on the floor, displaying a perfectly visible outline of his manhood. It’s distracting, to say the least. Chiyo mentioned the other day how you can have an increased libido during the first trimester. That’s definitely proving itself now.

Aside from the half-nakedness, something else surprises you about him. The two of you mostly avoid conversation with each other, eating in silence at the dining table while sneaking furtive glances whenever you get a chance. But he never fails to mutter, “Thank you for the meal,” before washing the dishes at the sink, retreating back into his room when he’s done. It’s the tiniest act of consideration that makes you wonder what’s going on in his head.

Tonight you sit across from each other as usual. You just finished eating the chicken katsu you made for dinner, along with a couple of side dishes you prepped earlier in the week. His abs look especially spectacular today and you find it harder than usual to stop peeking at them.

“You’re gonna burn a hole through me with the way you’re staring,” he says, chewing his last bite.

Shit, caught red-handed. You quickly look down at your empty bowl, mumbling an apology. “Sorry. I just…I can tell your hard work is paying off.”

“Yours too. The house has never been cleaner. And the food has never been better.” He’s looking directly at you, a genuine smile on his face. “Thank you.”

It’s no good. Your hormones are raging, sexual desire courses through you, all from that stupidly handsome grin and a silly little compliment. How did you ever think you could resist him?

You stand up, grabbing everything from the table. “I’ll do the dishes,” you offer, walking them to the sink, trying to calm down.

It’s no use, though. He sees right through you.

He gives you only a minute alone before he follows you, caging you between his big arms, your back to him, his mouth hot on your ear. “Let me help you.”

You let out a frustrated huff, already unraveling from his proximity. The smallest jut of your hips and there it is, his erection pressed to your ass, throbbing and even more massive than you remember it. “Toji, we can’t,” you whine, not making any attempt to separate yourself from him.

He slides his hands around your hips, pulling you in closer, rubbing his rock-hard cock against you. “I know you want it. I know you want me.”

And he’s right. You do. You want him with you, around you, inside of you. In all the ways he’s had you before, in new ways he’s never had but you’ve fantasized about. There’s no denying it anymore. You want him. You want him so fucking bad.

He takes you right there at the kitchen sink, bent over with your grip tight on the edge of the counter, pounding away at your wet, needy cunt. Neither of you bother to remove your clothes completely, Toji’s sweatpants shrugged down his thighs just enough, yours pooled around your ankles, soaked panties at your knees. “Fuck, Toji!” you moan, sticking your ass out to meet his thrusts.

His fingers find your clit, rubbing slippery circles around it. “Say it,” he grunts, increasing the pace.

Drools leaks out from the sides of your lips, too fucked out to process what’s he’s asking you. “What?”

“Say you want me,” he demands, massaging your swollen bud so deep, you feel it all the way down to your fucking toes.

“I want you. I want you, Toji!” you respond breathlessly, squeezing him tight with your orgasm.

“Fuck, I missed you. Missed my good girl.” He continues to fuck you, slowly now, relishing every second of being inside you. “Always so fucking creamy for me, fuck.” He pulls you up to embrace you from behind, fingers still pleasuring you, his other hand at your chin to face you towards him. The two of you kiss passionately, lips smacking, tongues swirling. So sloppy and wanton that it puts you on the verge of another orgasm, completely succumbed to pleasure.

You sleep with him in his bedroom after several more orgasms and a big one of his own, wrapped comfortably in his arms, with his cock and creampie inside you the rest of the night. For the first time in a while, you’re oddly at peace.

~~~

Your reckless decision making has led you into another troublesome scenario. Fortunately, you haven’t had any morning sickness the entire first week of your employment at the Fushiguro household. Unfortunately, it decides to come back today. There’s no way you’ll be able to make it to the bathroom near your room, so you have no choice but to hop out of Toji’s bed and run into his, clutching onto the porcelain bowl until it’s all out. You rinse your mouth off at the sink, hoping Toji didn’t hear any of it. But you know all too well by now that luck is never on your side.

He’s sitting up against the headboard, watching you come out of the bathroom. “Did you just puke in there?” There’s a hint of concern in his normally blunt tone.

You nod, bending down to retrieve your underwear and pants off the floor, avoiding his gaze.

“Are you sick?” he asks, the worry even more obvious now.

Shaking your head, you respond, “No, I just…I’m feeling a little nauseous, that’s all.” You walk towards the door, still not willing to look at him. “There should be leftovers in the fridge, so help yourself to breakfast. I’m going to lay down.”

He calls out your name. “Wait – ”

You ignore him, closing the door shut behind you, letting the tears fall down your cheeks as you retreat into your own bedroom, muffling your sobs into a pillow. After your wild romp last night, this bout of morning sickness has swiftly brought you back to reality. You’re still harboring the secret growing in your womb from the man who gave it to you to begin with.

There’s a firm knock on your door, startling you. “Hey, it’s me.”

In this split-second, you decide to stop with the lies and finally tell the truth. You open the door, Toji standing in front of you fully clothed in his usual attire, a serious expression on his face. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

Eyes still puffy from crying, you take a deep breath. “I’m pregnant. And you’re the father.”

His mouth parts the slightest bit, no words coming out of it. The silence seems to linger on forever. You fill it by rambling all the thoughts that have been swimming in your head the last couple of weeks. “Before you start freaking out or anything, I’m telling you so that you know. I don’t expect you to be involved. I’m perfectly willing to raise this child on my own. And besides, I won’t be completely alone. I have my family to help me, my friends too. I’ll be totally fine. This baby is going to be well taken care of, I’ll make sure of it. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just didn’t know how. But I feel better already because this has been stressing me out. It’s all going to work out okay? I think. I hope.”

After the long spiel, he stares down at the floor, jaw tight, mouth opening and closing, unsure how to respond. Eventually, he says, “I have to go.”

When he leaves the house, you crawl into your bed, bawling until there are no tears left for you to cry.

~~~

You wake up in the late afternoon to an enticing aroma wafting from the kitchen. It’s been hours since you’ve been in bed, moping about how poorly everything went with Toji. His reaction left you devastated. While you always expected to do this alone, hearing his negative response to it hurts more than you anticipated it to.

Curious, you make your way into the kitchen, shocked to find Toji standing over the stove, stirring a pot, the soothing scent of soup surrounding you. “What’s going on?” you ask, noticing a plethora of fresh vegetables laid out on the counter, along with a big bottle of prenatal vitamins and various snacks.

He turns the heat off, covering the pot with a lid. “I’m cooking,” he answers, facing you with a grin on his face. “Bone broth is a good source of calcium. And you need to keep eating lots of veggies so our baby is strong, like me. No more of this instant ramen shit.”

“I thought you were upset,” you say, stepping closer to him.  

“I know. I’m sorry I left like that. I was shocked at first, I’ll admit it. But I started to get excited." He takes your hands in his. "I have a lot of regrets in my life, but being a father isn’t one of them. Being a bad father is. I want to change. I need to change. For Megumi. For our new little one. For you.”

Strangely enough, you believe in his heartfelt declaration. You smile at him, letting him go to stand in front of the stove, taking a whiff of the comforting aroma of the hot soup he made for you, happy tears welling in your eyes. He hugs you gently from behind, nuzzling his nose to you. “I’m going to do it right this time, okay? I know I can do it with you.”

As Toji caresses your belly, kissing you softly along the neck, you feel the weight that’s been heavy on your shoulders ease up. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

[yizmiu]

i’m not sure if you do requests but i was wondering if i could request enhypen boyfriend sunghoon fic where sunghoon goes from not caring at all for cats to becoming the proudest cat dad you could ever imagine when his girlfriend brings home a cat out of no where.

ི꒰͡ ໋. kitty-incident!

𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ ‎inwhich. sunghoon doesn’t understand his girlfriends love for cats but after she suddenly brought one home he’s kind of forced too…

𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ ‎࣪genre. fluff, sunghoon x f!reader, dog person sunghoon, cat person reader

𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ ‎word count. 1k+

ᯇ ೀ jayjay’s note; hiii so sorry for the long wait, i was having trouble finding out on how i should write this! it’s a mix of smau and a drabble!

Sunghoon sighed, staring at the little kitten on the floor next to his feet. Y/n, his girlfriend had impulsively bought the kitten home from a shelter without even telling him she was doing so. It’s not like Sunghoon hated cats, he was just more of a dog person.

Now, he was just told he had to watch the kitten for a couple hours. “You’re cute, but I’m still mad at you for scratching our couches. I can’t believe your mom just showed up with you and didn’t tell me.” Sunghoon glared at the cat as he spoke.

The kitten, named Yureum (chosen by the both of them) could sense Sunghoon’s passive aggressive energy from the day he entered the house. Since then he’s been acting like a little asshole to him, tearing up the furniture, knocking down Sunghoon’s things, and walking over the keyboard while he was trying to work.

Sunghoon rarely pet his ‘child’ because Yureum always made sure to nip and scratch at him out of spite. So when he suddenly started purring and rubbing against Sunghoon’s leg he was surprised.

Sunghoon figured he needed more attention, and he started to feel bad so he shut his laptop, taking a break from his work to sit on the couch with Yureum following behind.

“C’mon” Sunghoon said as he picked the kitten up with both hands, placing him on his lap. “You’re so cute, if only you weren’t a little jerk to me.” Sunghoon sighed as he gently caressed him.

Sunghoon yawned as he placed Yureum next to his head as he laid down, getting sleepy. “I’m gonna take a little nap, your mom should be home in 15 minutes.” He said as his voice started to slur.

Yureum stared at the sleeping figure in front of him for a little, a little tired himself so he snuggled up against his owner. Fitting perfectly in the gap between his chest and arms.

Sunghoon heard flashes and clicks as he began to wake up from his sleep, opening his eyes to see his girlfriend taking photos of him. “What are you doing?” He said groggily. “Look! You and Yureum.” Y/n shoved the phone in her boyfriend's face.

“Y/n—Achoo!” Sunghoon cut himself off with a sneeze. “Are you okay, baby? You’ve been sneezing a lot.” Y/n asks in concern as she hands her boyfriend a tissue.

“What if I've developed an allergy to cats? Yureum has been clingy to me recently, what if the little shit got me sick.” Sunghoon suggested. “I know you don’t like him much but what kind of excuse is that? I mean it could be possible though…” Y/n lost the train of thought thinking about the possibility. “He just loves you a lot, he cuddles with you a night more than me.” She pouted as she crossed her arms against her chest.

“I kind of wish he didn’t…I just have been getting itchy around him a lot.”

“I can make an appointment for you later today, just take some of my allergy pills and you’ll be okay.” Y/n said as she walked over to the kitchen to fetch her allergy pills. She herself was allergic to cats but she didn’t mind.

Turns out, Sunghoon really was allergic to cats. He tried to keep his distance after learning so. He doesn’t know how Y/n deals with it.

But It was hard when the damn cat was always by Sunghoon’s side. When he was sleeping, when he was working, hell even when he was in the bathroom. He followed him everywhere.

“Yureum! Seriously, I’m just getting up to get water.” Sunghoon groaned as the cat purposefully stuck himself to his owner by digging his claws into Sunghoon’s knitted sweater. “Don’t follow me.” He said firmly, placing the cat down after detaching it from him.

Yureum sat and stared at his owner as he walked away, deciding to ignore his wishes and follow him anyway.

“Oh my god! Yureum, I almost stepped on you.” Hoon complained as he looked at the cat that was now by his feet. “You have food and water, I was just petting you, what more could you want?” Hoon asked the cat. He looked crazy right now, he’s talking to a cat.

Yureum’s head slightly turned to the right. Taking little steps to get to his ankles, purring against them softly.

Sunghoon sighed as he picked his cat up. “God, I’m surprised I’m not dead already.” He carried the cat to the shared bedroom between him and his girlfriend.

“Are we out of allergy pills?” Y/n asked, looking up from her laptop. She was currently working on a project for work and wanted some alone time.

“Almost. I’m tired and I can tell Yureum is too.” He set the cat down before he laid himself on the bed next to Y/n. “He keeps following me everywhere, I don’t know why. He’s your cat. I’m more like his babysitter.” He sighed.

Y/n gasps. “He is our son…and it’s because he likes you, Hoon. More than me actually…it’s kind of surprising.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders, “See.” She pointed out as the cat was currently cuddling up to Sunghoon and not her.

“Hoon! I know you’ve been tired a lot recently and you’ve been wanting a break from Yureum so I got someone else to watch him! You can go and hang with the guys tonight.” Y/n said as soon as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

Sunghoon spit out the toothpaste in his mouth into the sink. “Who is it?” He asked as he put his toothbrush away. Y/n unwrapped her arms, grabbing the hairbrush on the bathroom counter. “It’s one of my coworkers, he said he loves cats and he has a day off today so he agreed to watch him.” She gently brushed her hair as she looked at the man in the mirror.

“Yes, but who?” Sunghoon’s eyebrows slightly furrowed. “Doyoon.” Y/n said hesitantly.

Sunghoon’s eyes slightly lit up, he knew he was the said coworker. “Actually, the guys aren’t going out today. I can watch Yureum.” He said nonchalantly.

Even though Sunghoon could use his day off to hang with his friends he still decided to look after their cat every single saturday. Purely because he doesn’t want Kim Doyoon, who has a massive crush on his girl, to look after their cat. In bold their cat.

enhypen m.list — enhypen taglist (open) : @yenqa

[knightlysoulsnatcher]

HELLO... IT IS I... MMAY,I ASK FOR PERHSPS... A STUDY DATE

Mako is always equal parts apprehensive and delighted whenever Ami offers to study with her. It is an opportunity to watch the way Ami’s hands move gracefully as she types, the way her eyebrows furrow as she hunches over her paper, grey pencil smudges on her fingers. The way she smirks a little whenever she knows she got a problem right. 

Studying with Ami allows Mako to observe Ami without the danger of Ami noticing or questioning it. 

Until Ami notices that Mako’s progress is not nearly as…. elegant or… brilliant as Ami’s. Then, Mako’s stomach clenches, and she feels like an overheated laptop, body too warm, everything about her too loud–obvious. 

“Want to study together tonight?” 

Ami asks so innocently, gazing up at Mako through her lashes, smiling softly. They are walking together slightly behind Usagi, Rei, and Mina. Far enough back that Mako feels as though she has Ami’s undivided attention, but close enough that she doesn’t feel alone. She doesn’t know whether or not she would appreciate it if the others were gone for the moment. She knows Ami can only study so much with all of them. 

It always baffles Mako that Ami would want to study with her. It’s not like Mako’s commentary, when offered, is particularly helpful. “Sure,” she says, caught between I’d love to and no, please, never ask me again. 

Ami beams at her, and Mako’s eyes burn with tears. She can’t look at Ami directly, and her hands shake. She grabs the straps of her backpack and grips them tightly. 

“Where would you like to go? Coffee shop? My house? Your place?” 

Coffee shop seems too much like a date, Mako thinks, though it isn’t until she looks and sees the discomfort in Ami’s features that she realizes she said it out loud. 

“Would it be a problem if it looked like we were dating?” 

Mako’s cheeks burn, and she hates herself just a little bit. “No, not at all.” 

“Because our friendship is stronger than what other people’s perceptions of it are?” 

Mako shrugs. “That, and I really wouldn’t mind dating you.” 

Ami is quiet for a time, and Mako’’s heart beats painfully fast. Doesn’t know quite what prompted the blunt honesty, but something in Mako can’t allow herself to properly regret it. She cycles between feeling uncomfortably raw, like everyone is watching her, gazes crawling under her skin, and, deep down, a dark streak of anger at Ami for keeping silent and giving no indication of her deeper feelings. 

They continue walking, Ami in a determined fashion. Somewhere along the way, Mamoru whisked Usagi away and Rei and Mina ducked into a store together. Mako can barely remember separating from them, but she feels their absence acutely as she watches Ami gaze at the buildings before them.

Out of the blue, Ami grabs Mako’s hand and laces their fingers together. “Does that place look good to you?” Ami points at a coffee shop, but Mako barely looks at it. 

“Sure, looks fine to me.” 

“Good!” Ami grins up at Mako. “I think it would be perfect for our first date.” 

Ami continues walking forward for a second, unaware that Mako has paused and stares incredulously at Ami. “Our first date?” 

Ami steps uncomfortably close to Mako. “Yes. I like you, you like me, and I enjoy studying and spending time with you. This seems like the best place to have our first date.” 

“You like me?” 

Ami blinks at Mako. “Of course I do. I thought it was obvious.” 

“It wasn’t.” 

“Oh.” Ami looks away, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. 

Mako clears her throat. “I would like to have a study date with you.” 

Ami nods slowly and rubs her thumb across Mako’s hand. They begin walking again, Ami’s hand comfortable in Mako’s as she stares blankly at her surroundings, mind stuck in between white noise and the shock of realizing that her feelings were accepted—and that her feelings were even spoken aloud at all. She wants to be embarrassed but can’t quite bring herself to when she sees the quiet satisfaction in Ami’s smile, the warmth in her gaze. 

Mako holds the door for Ami when they enter the shop, and she is pleased to see that it is well-lit yet cozy, the brick walls soothing and artwork tasteful. There is a mix of couches and tables, and Mako toys with the idea of studying at a couch, but she knows that she won’t want to focus on her work. 

We’ll have time to cuddle later anyways. 

Mako squeezes Ami’s hand gently and grins down at her. Ami blushes and squeezes her hand back. 

They order drinks, Ami asking for milk, and find a table large enough for their work. Mako makes to sit across from Ami, but Ami chooses to sit next to her and wordlessly reaches for her hand again once their books and drinks were on the table. 

Mako wants to protest, if only because, while Ami isn’t holding Mako’s writing hand, she is holding Ami’s. Ami merely smirks at her before beginning to work with her other hand. 

The rest of the date is largely silent between them, their hands sometimes separating if necessary, though they mostly continue holding hands. Mako’s attention is admittedly less focused on her work, though she manages to complete everything necessary for the next day, while Ami finishes her homework and begins working ahead. 

Mako, hardly feeling up to working ahead, watches Ami when she finishes, comfortably content with the ability to watch her more openly now. There is an underlying sense of anxiety, not quite fully comprehending the upcoming alterations in their relationship, and she hopes Ami doesn’t look her work over today, knowing it isn’t her best effort. 

When Ami comes to a good stopping point, they pack their things quietly and exit the shop. 

They stand just outside the entrance, enough to be out of the way, and Mako finds herself staring at her shoes. 

“Do you want me to walk you home, or…” 

Ami clears her throat. “We could do that, if you want.” 

“Or we could go back to my place and watch something?” 

Ami grins, and Mako finds herself grinning back. “That sounds good. We should probably also talk about this.” 

Mako nods and reaches for Ami’s hand again. “Let’s go.” 

[moon3thereal]

Hey, i have a natasha x reader request. So Natasha is a very composed person always know what to do and basically everybody is terrified of the ex-assassin. But when she sees you for the first time she gets so flustered and ends up stuttering over her words, and it doesn’t stop every time she sees you her cheeks will turn red and and don’t know what to do, but it’s worse when you will compliment her or tease her, she will blush so hard when you “accidentally touch her” or throw a suggestive joke at her. The avengers will tease her relentless because of this because she is so lovestruck even in important meetings they will tease her to embarrass her in front of fury. Fluffy ending where reader kisses Nat and a very flustered and happy Nat after.

Title: Forbidden Rendezvous

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none but if you find any do lmk

a/n: thank you for the req! I enjoyed writing this one very much and i hope you guys like it <3

1.4k

Natasha Romanoff, the black widow herself, seemingly had a reputation to uphold. She was cold, ruthless, efficient, her instinct uncannily accurate. In short, she was one of the best agents in S.H.I.E.L.D if not the best. The Avenger was also pretty much the most stone-faced, cold-heartedly composed person in the world. She was a force to be reckoned with

That all went to hell when she met you, it was an avengers meeting, to be acquainted with the newest recruit to the Avengers initiative, all the Avengers had been told was that this recruit was a she and that she was one of S.H.I.E.L.D’s most elite agents and was probably here to babysit them and keep them out of trouble.

Which is why Natasha never expected someone like you to walk into the room, back straight, with the same elegant strut she’d found herself using more often than not. There was an air of composure around you, people could take one look at you and know that they shouldn’t mess with you. You had somehow managed to look daintily pretty but if they looked carefully at your posture, ready to attack should a threat arise, highly dangerous.

Once Natasha’s eyes landed on you, she couldn’t seem to tear them away, she was completely fixated on you, all the way from the door to when you took your place in an unoccupied seat with a bright smile on your lips that were painted just the right shade of red. Natasha studied the way a few strands of your hair fell out of your ponytail and curled around your jaw perfectly, framing your face. The way your lips parted to speak, presumably to introduce yourself, the Russian was put in a trance and there was an awkward silence when it was her turn to introduce herself

Clint, who was sitting next to her, raised an eyebrow at the dreamy look on her face and had to nudge her twice before she jumped slightly, startled and glared at him, he gestured to you and Natasha’s expression of indignation morphed to one of embarrassment and back to her original neutrality. You had noticed Natasha’s lingering stare on you, not the stare you’d seen her use on so many interrogatees and victims of her wrath, this stare was softer, almost like she was captivated by you

After a solid five seconds of Natasha pulling herself together, she extended her hand to you with a soft “hi, Natasha Romanoff” and before you had the chance to introduce yourself, she said “I mean, I’m Natasha Romanoff, you’re y/n y/l/n, I didn’t, I know you’re not Natasha Romanoff” The Avengers all had looks of astonishment on her face, she was always composed, even in the worst situations, none of them had ever seen her like this. Damn you Natasha she thought, she had absolutely no idea why her brain was short circuiting like this, it had never happened before

You laughed lightly before extending your own and shaking hers that was slightly sweaty, “hi, nice to meet you” she nodded, evidently flustered. How can someone be this perfect she thought. She’d seen you training in S.H.I.E.L.D quarters a few times but since she spent most of her time in the Avengers compound now, she’d never seen you up close.

After the meeting, which she hadn’t paid attention to anything else but the crease in your brows when you were concentrating, the way you knew how to disagree without offending the other individual, how intelligent you were, within the 2 hours you had joined the Avengers you had already solved a major problem with ease

It had been a month since that day, you were settled in the compound, you had a room to yourself, and you found it pretty comfortable, you’d gone on a few minor missions, nothing serious. You were already enjoying their company and was getting used to the new environment. But you enjoyed Natasha’s company most, from what you know and what you heard, she was supposed to be an extremely dangerous individual, but around you, she was an absolute klutz and also the most adorable person you’ve met.

All the interactions between you too had always ended up in Natasha blushing furiously and you adoring how her cheeks got all rosy and her face would turn the same fiery red of her hair when you casually threw a suggestive comment her way, basically you both being absolutely whipped for each other and refusing to admit it first

You were hacking into a computer system with Tony’s tech when Steve said “there’s no way you can pull that off, I know, I’ve tried” you simply scoffed, your hands flying over the keyboard typing in several coordinates “I’m y/n y/l/n, I can pull off everything” seizing the opportunity to once again fluster the redhead you pointed at her “including your clothes” just like you predicted, her cheeks immediately flushed red and a panicky chuckle fell from her lips

Steve rolled his eyes “see, according to you, I’m a million year old fossil, but still, even I can see that you are completely and irrevocably in love with her” you had successfully hacked into the system and pumped your fists triumphantly, transferring the information into a hard drive “I never said I wasn’t Rogers” you said sending a wink Natasha’s way and ‘accidentally’ brushing her bare arm lightly with yours as you passed by earning yourself a nervous squeak from her

Even in important meetings, Natasha was often caught giving you heart eyes, like this one right now, Fury was staring at her waiting for her to give him a plethora of solutions like she normally would. This time however, she was busy staring at you and were practically making out with you with her eyes. Fury cast his glance around the avengers silently inquiring as to what happened to his best agent. “she’s infatuated with her new girlfriend” tony said

The abrupt voice snapped Natasha out of her thoughts and she sent him her killer glare “I am not” knowing chuckles reverberated around the meeting room, even you let out a soft laugh at her obliviousness. “Did you know that Romanoff let y/n borrow her motorbike?” Clint said in a faux conspiratory voice. The director’s eyebrows shot up “is that so?” one corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk

“So what if it is, its just a bike” Natasha tried to act nonchalant but the flush in her cheeks betrayed her. “Ah look, the adoptive murder daughter has found love” tony said sarcastically “I will cause you pain in ways you can’t even imagine” Natasha gritted out. Taking pity on her, you snapped your fingers “Okay okay, this has been fun, but back to the tesseract?”

After the meeting, and more relentless teasing, resulting in an extremely irritable Natasha, she had pulled you aside into an empty store room “ooh is this our forbidden rendezvous” you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively. Even in the dark, you could swear that Natasha was blushing like she always did even if you so much as looked at her

“no this is me apologizing on behalf of the team and what they said back there, it was disrespectful-” catching your quirked eyebrow and look of amusement indicating that you were in fact not at all offended by the team’s teasing and she was the only one amongst all of them that didn’t know you had feelings for her too. Deciding to be bold for once, she smirked “it could be our forbidden rendezvous though”

You smiled and closed the distance between you. You could feel her breath hitch when she noticed how close you were, how she could tilt her head slightly and her lips would meet yours, how much she wanted to feel your lips on hers. So that’s exactly what she did, when your lips touched, it was just like how they described it in books. It ignited something resembling a thunderstorm in you and you couldn’t acknowledge anything else except how her lips felt perfect against yours. You reached to run a hand through her crimson tresses, and when breathing became a difficulty she pulled away, ruffled and lips parted she smiled showing all her impossibly white teeth

“Who knew you were such a good kisser”

“Who knew you would ever get bold enough to find out”

Taglist: @phoenixofash @michelle-dsn @midgardianweasley @zolvaska @jokertgkk @yeeterthekeeper

[penguintransporter]

Walker (John Stones imagine) Part III

Okay, this is definitely turning into a story, rather than imagine, but I am so enjoying writing this, but I think since the chapters are much shorter, it’ll need two more chapters to complete it. This one is dedicated to everyone who has read and liked the previous chapters, but especially @rosie7703 hope you enjoy this one as well. Read, enjoy, like, comment, reblog, whatever you feel like doing. Love you all!

Part I | Part II

Rosie’s phone vibrated in the back pocket of her dark, denim jeans, and when she reached out for it to check it, she couldn’t help but smile like a fool at the name that was written on the screen. 

Have a safe trip, Rosie.

Sheepishly, she sucked in her bottom lip between her teeth, feeling her heartbeat accelerate - fingers hovering over the reply button. When she gave him the phone number the night before, and told him to text her, she never thought he would actually do it, but he did - the very same night, giving her the reason to stay awake more than she had planned too.

Rosie kept smiling to herself as she thought about her answer, but as she was about to type it, the doors of her brother’s room opened with a small squeak, making her lock the phone and put it away. 

“What drugs did you take this morning?” her brother asked, walking through the narrow doorway and into the kitchen, wearing a pair of pyjama bottoms and a wrinkled t-shirt with the emblem of his favourite football club, embroidered on the left side of his chest. Both items that he was wearing were way too small for him and his lanky figure - trousers barely reaching his ankles. “Having you smile like that so early in the morning is unsettling.”

Rosie grinned, looking over her shoulder at her younger sibling as she filled the old kettle with tap water, suddenly feeling sad for him. He was slumped over in a single barstool, and with his messy hair and tired face-expression, he looked as if a boulder ran him over. Twice.

“Obviously, not the same as you,” she answered, knowing perfectly that she was about to hit the right nerve. 

“You’re annoying, you know that?” he muttered, lifting his head for a second from where it rested on the kitchen counter, “and I think, your happiness makes me sick to my stomach. Can you go back to being your boring self?”

Rosie only rolled her eyes at her brother’s childish behaviour before placing the kettle on the already warm hob - droplets of water sliding down and onto the stove and turning into the steam instantly. 

“It’s hardly my happiness that makes you sick to your stomach,” she spoke calmly, “it’s the amount of alcohol and God knows what that you’ve consumed in the past week,” Rosie added with a grin, opening the cupboard to pick a mug from the empty shelf. How her brother survived with three mugs and two plates was beyond the mystery to her. “Cuppa?”

Her brother didn’t look up, but managed to raise his hand a little before flipping her off, and Rosie couldn’t help but laugh. 

“What I need is something that will fix my head?” he muttered quietly, shaking his head before wincing - a small profanity leaving his mouth. 

“I’ve got Ibuprofen,” Rosie offered. 

“Nah,” he responded, sliding down from the stool before walking to the refrigerator - the white front of it covered in way too many red stickers, matching to the emblem on his t-shirt. 

Rosie shrugged as she proceeded to pour the boiling water over her teabag, watching her brother from the corner of her eye as he took out a bag with, what looked like, frozen dumplings before putting it on top of his head - wincing a little as he did so. She tried to contain her laughter inside her throat as she looked back at her tea, pressing her lips together. 

“Hey,” she started, trying to subtly change the topic, “I need to ask you something.” Her brother ignored her as he made his way towards the sitting room, and Rosie sighed, unsure how to formulate her question without sounding too eager. “Do you know any lads named John?”

Her brother looked at her from where he was half-sitting, half-laying on the sofa with Walker sitting next to him - the dog’s head resting in her brother’s lap. 

“Here? In Barnsley?” he asked as Rosie made her way towards him, stepping over her weekender bag that rested on the floor, along with her trainers and a tote-bag with some snacks for her trip home to Manchester. Rosie nodded, humming softly, while trying to contain her giddiness. “I know a few, why?”

“Any of them have tattoos?” she asked, sitting down before setting her cup of tea on a random brochure from the local sushi place. 

“John Sutcliffe has a panda bear on his arse, but you know him. Why?”

Rosie made a small grimace, remembering who exactly John Sutcliffe was and why she remembered him in the first place. Their first encounter ended up with him stealing a pair of knickers from Rosie’s bedroom and taking it to the school with him to brag about sleeping with his mate’s older sister.

“Ah,” she murmured, trying to pretend that she wasn’t bothered by the information that her brother gave her. “I just met a lad the other day in the park,” she started again, “his face was oddly familiar and I was wondering if I’ve met him before. I thought it was maybe one of your mates.”

Her brother gave her a small, disinterested shrug, and Rosie sighed, reaching out to stroke Walker’s furry back as she took a small sip of her tea.

“It’s none that I know. The Johns that I know, two of them live in London, and the other two visit the park only at night, to drink with the bums.”

“I assume Sutcliffe is one of them,” Rosie murmured, making her brother throttle as he turned on TV. 

Rosie leaned back into the sofa, taking her phone out of her pocket and looking at the screen - the stream of messages they exchanged last night greeting her. With a slide of her finger, she scrolled through them - a small smile appearing on her lips as she stopped at the particular text that made her heart skip a beat. 

I really want to see you again.

“Speaking of lads named John,” her brother’s voice caught her attention, stopping her train of thoughts, and she curiously looked at him, waiting for him to continue. “There’s John Stones, and he’s originally from around here, a bit older than me. But, he might as well not be from around here,” he said as he placed his feet on the coffee table in front of them. “Don’t like him.”

“And he lives in Barnsley now?” she asked, eager to hear the answer - anticipation eating her on the inside. Her brother grinned at her, adjusting the bag of frozen dumplings that he still held on top of his head. “What?” Rosie inquired, almost defensively. 

Her younger sibling kept his smirk on as he pointed at the TV screen with the hand in which he still held the TV remote. “You are so useless,” he muttered, “how do you even live in Manchester? It’s just bloody amazing…” he trailed off, and Rosie huffed slightly in annoyance, causing her brother to chuckle. “No, he doesn’t live in Barnsley, Rosie,” her brother drawled out, “because he’s a bloody Citizen. Liked him much better when he was at Everton.”

With a confusion etched across her face, Rosie slowly moved her gaze from her brother’s amused face and at the TV - the phone she held in her hands instantly dropping into her lap as her eyes met with the familiar blue ones.

He looked tired, but content as he stood in front of a Sky Sports backdrop, wearing a light blue jacket - his hair as sweaty as on the day when she first met him. With a small smile, John was nodding at the journalist who was asking him something, but despite the volume being high, she couldn’t hear a word because her heartbeat was drumming loudly inside her ears. 

She kept her eyes focused on the man on the screen, and when he laughed at whatever they were talking about, Rosie’s heart dropped to the bottom of her stomach.

*

Hope  you like it. Tagging quickly @avenirdelight because she asked me to do so. If you want to be tagged as well, let me know.

[a-libra-writes]

The Gang Reacts to You Dressing Fancy for a Job

“Is it okay to ask for the RDR2 gang (or just Javier if it’s too much!) seeing their crush all prettied and dressed up for a job (like the riverboat or Bronte’s garden party)? Would they work up the courage to ask them out? your writing sustains me”

YAAALLLLL THIS LONG AS FUCK BC THIS! IS! MY! RASPBERRY! JAM!

In this imagine, you’ll be impressing: Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch van Der Linde, Hosea Matthews, Sadie Adler, Micah Bell, Charles Smith, Bill Williamson, Javier Escuella, Sean MacGuire, Lenny Summers, Kieran Duffy, Tilly Jackson, Mary-Beth Gaskill, Karen Jones, Flaco Hernandez

ARTHUR MORGAN

Oh no. When you were volunteered for the job, he had a feeling you’d look charming in one of those big hooped gowns, but … this is like his heart getting hit by a train. The feelings are a little overwhelming, so while the girls add their finishing touches, Arthur tries to stand to the side and not stare. He wants to compliment you, because you look absolutely stunning, but words are completely failing him. Arthur manages to get a compliment out, but you’re totally occupied with how much you love or hate this get-up. Arthur doesn’t even care about what he was forced to wear; he could be in a paper sack and he wouldn’t notice. During the party, he’s distracted by how you seem to float around the room, easily joking with the guests as though you were one of them. Hosea has to knock sense into Arthur more than once, but how can he pay attention when there’s a literal angel in front of him?

When the gunfight breaks out, Arthur is at your side right away, pulling you into his protective embrace and trying to steer you out of the house. It doesn’t matter if you’re a good shot or not, that dress and corset are cumbersome as hell and he’s gonna stubbornly send you home. Arthur wants to be the one taking you back, but he has to stay and fight. He hands you off to Sean, warning him to be careful and get you back to camp in one piece. His tone is actually pretty scary when he says this. Arthur is beyond relieved when he finally gets back. You’re out of the dress, but you’re clearly safe and comfortable, not a scratch on you. He doesn’t care about his own injuries, but he’s pleased when you fuss over them.

JOHN  MARSTON

No way John is gonna dress up like some goddamn banker, but he was totally ready to tease you about having to squeeze into a corset and frilly dress. The problem is, you’re gorgeous in it. He doesn’t know shit about women’s clothes or fashion, but something about the color and style just suits you so perfectly, like it was made only for you. He wants to give a sassy comment, but he just … can’t. John goes for a genuine compliment, but his cheeks and ears are tomato red as he mutters “ya look real nice”. If you hate the clothes, it’s a little easier for him to joke around with you, but if you love them and you’re twirling around, as happy as a kid and looking like an actual lady from one of those fancy paintings? He can only take so much sweetness before he has to duck his head and distract himself with something.

When the gunfight breaks out at the party, John is right by your side before you can blink. You don’t know how he moved so fast, but soon his arm is around your waist and getting you back to his horse. John isn’t the most graceful about this, and the dress is meant for dancing, not riding… so it ends up ripping as you two make your escape. Once you’re in a safe place and you can get out of the damn thing, John’s attention goes straight to the tears in the dress, specifically the one that’s showing the stockings and garterbelt you had to wear. The lingerie looks fantastic - it definitely awakens something in him.

DUTCH VAN DER LINDE

First off, he is not sneaky. Not at all. You know exactly why you were asked to play a role in this little con, and it was so Dutch could see you all dressed up. Now, either you’re totally annoyed by this because screw frills and lace, or you’re delighted because you can dress up like some fancy lady and rob rich folks. Also, it’s pretty funny how he pretends not to be interested in the sort of dress and jewelry you and the girls are deciding on. You know he’s trying very hard not to make a suggestion, and just to be a little mean, you made sure he was within earshot when you mentioned the matter of corsets and fancy undergarments to the girls.

Once at the party, Dutch plays at being some rich banker and you’re his young foreign wife. It’s absurdly easy to pull off, even with your terrible accent, and after each conversation you both are trying not to laugh. He’s definitely liking being able to have an arm around your waist and being able to lean in and whisper to you, but he won’t push his boundaries, especially if you’re already uncomfortable being all dressed up and powdered. While you two are dancing, he’ll whisper in that deep voice, praising you for how perfect you’ve been, or reassuring you that it’ll be over soon. When the shooting started, Dutch pulled you to a safe place you could lie low in, but if you bothered him enough he’d hand you a gun and let you join the shootout. 

Back at camp, Dutch’s flirting hasn’t dulled in the slightest. He’ll sit close to you as everyone else celebrates, mentioning how wonderful you were and if you need help slipping out of anything. If you let him, he’ll help unlace those fancy boots, even massage your poor ankles and calves since you aren’t used to wearing tall shoes. Isn’t that thoughtful?

HOSEA MATTHEWS

Nearly all of this con was his idea, and you’re glad to help run it. Hosea is playing the part of some eccentric philanthropist and you’re a grand-niece or some relative. The two of you talk so smooth and fast, easily working off each other, that the hosts of the party don’t stand a chance. Hosea wants to avoid any sort of violence, but knowing the gang, who knows what will happen, so he wants you to stay close to him. During lulls in conversation, when you and Hosea are just observing the crowd and deciding who to speak with next, he’ll lean in and whisper something to you. It makes goosebumps break out on your skin, you can feel how warm he is and sometimes he’ll run a hand up your back as he compliments you on what a natural you are, or reassures you that it’ll be over soon. He’ll truly feel bad if you hate having to dress up and pretend like this; so he’s grateful you agreed to come along and help. If you’re thriving off the party and the trickery, he’ll give you knowing grins and winks that make him seem fifteen years younger. There’s a surprising amount of mischief in him. 

When the inevitable fight breaks out (he totally called it), Hosea swiftly gets you to a safe part of the house he noticed earlier. From there you two snatch several stashes of jewels and cash and stealthily make your way out. Hosea had to be convinced to steal as much as you both did; he was terribly worried about you, since the dress would be difficult to run in. When you’re back at camp, Hosea isn’t shy about telling you what a great job you did, and how proud he is. He’ll give a kiss to your cheek and he’s very smooth about offering to remove anything that’s giving you trouble. 

SADIE ADLER

Thank god she’s not the one in the fucking gown, that’s all she has to say. Well, that, and the jokes and snark she throws your way while you’re getting ready. If you hate the dress just as much, too bad, you were roped into the plan and Sadie is having lots of playful teasing at your expense. If you adore it and start modeling it for her, she won’t admit how cute you’re being… but she will consider wearing a tuxedo and being some “hoity toity” man just to make sure you’re safe. She doesn’t trust the “gentleman” at this party at all, and the closer you both get to the manor, the more antsy she becomes. All her previous humor is gone as she urges you to find her right away if trouble happens. Sadie is absolutely going to bring your favorite gun along and was trying to figure out a way to strap a revolver to your leg until Hosea pulled you away. You promise you’ll be alright, but she doesn’t look reassured. 

The expected fight breaks out, and like you promised, you beeline for Sadie. She’s already on you - how the hell did she get into the manor so fast? - and she’s tossed your gun in your hands. Soon enough you both are blasting your way out of the manor. She gets impatient when you fall for the second time and rips the dress herself so you can run easier. It was your horse she brought around to escape, and Sadie hoisted you up, sat herself in the back and kept shooting while you rode to safety. It was… a hectic and messy escape, but neither of you had a scratch. Once you’re at the camp, she doesn’t feel bad for ripping the dress, even if you liked it. It was necessary, and besides, you can’t keep the frilly thing! Okay, she’ll apologize if you pout. If you hated it she’s more than happy to help you burn it. 

MICAH BELL

How the hell is he supposed to respond to this? It would be one thing if you caked on make-up like a tart and strapped yourself into some circus tent-looking contraption, he could work with that. His brain just stops functioning for a few seconds when the girls finally unveil the work they did on you. If you hated the dress and it wasn’t something you’d wear unless a gun was pointed to your head, then Micah certainly had choice words to say, teasing and mocking the difference between this and your regular attire… except they were much weaker insults than he usually had. You were too distracted and uncomfortable to even care. If you adored all of it, practically buzzing with excitement as you turned and twirled for everyone, he might even try an attempt at a compliment, although it’d come out all jumbled and flustered. He decides to stay away and just watch you from a distance, both enjoying the view and trying to figure out this stupid knot in his stomach.

At least you two are apart during the party, so he doesn’t have to look at you enjoying yourself and swaying around in that dress. When the fight starts, he can finally have something else to put his mind to … until he sees you get caught in the crossfire. Micah would throw you a gun he pulled off someone, barking at you to follow him. Dutch told him to get you to safety, which he initially bristled at, but then he dutifully put you up on Baylock. He told you to keep shooting while he rode off - and he still got plenty of shots in himself. Once you were back at camp, he wouldn't apologize for dirtying the dress. It had to be done, and now the job is done, so you can get out of it…. and he would absolutely offer to cut it off with his knife. The whole thing, corset and all. He's gonna fantasize about it well after the fact, too.

CHARLES SMITH

If you love getting a chance to dress up and wear jewels, Charles can tell, and he finds your joy just adorable. If you dislike the idea of having to dress up for a stupid party, even if it’s a robbery, he’s very encouraging and reassures you as many times as you need. This kind of con isn’t really his scene, but he knows you’ll do well and he promises to look after you during the whole thing. He’ll even have you ride along with him on Taima if that'll settle your nerves. Once you arrive, Charles helps you down like a gentleman. If you’re still uneasy, he asks you to wait a moment and then comes back with a rose he picked from the garden. He places it neatly in your tied back hair. “Perfect. Don’t worry, you’ll do great, and when things go south, I’ll be there. Promise.”

Once the fight breaks out, Charles is true to his word and helps you escape in the chaos. You have no idea where he came from, but you didn’t refuse the help, or the gun he offered you - at some point he’d packed your favorite one - and you’re pulled up on Taima as gunshots go off all around you. Charles put you on the front of his horse to protect you better, even if it’s harder to shoot from there. It sort of makes you feel like a princess being swept away. When you two return to the camp, he tidies the rose in your hair and offers to help remove the restrictive dress or massage your legs if they hurt … casually, of course. Probably.

BILL WILLIAMSON

When the girls finally unveiled their handiwork, he thought his heart was stopping. You were so pretty - well, you normally were, but now more than ever. You looked like one of those porcelain dolls they put in music boxes. Bill didn’t even want to touch you or stand too close, worried he’d dirty you somehow. He couldn’t believe you wanted him to play the role of the bodyguard that would follow you around the party.... Though he played the part well, his silence combined with his big build made him seem intimidating. If you were clearly miserable in the dress and with the company, he wasn’t sure what to say to make you feel better, so he stayed quiet. If you were loving the dress and just thriving in the party, fooling everyone into thinking you were some high-class belle … Well, he was too distracted watching you, still not able to say much.

Eventually he had to split off from you to join the men, which he didn’t appreciate, but he made a point to bring your gun along with his. When the expected gunfight broke out, Bill beelined for you, practically tossing a man that was too close and handed over your gun. He didn’t expect you to be so grateful, it made him blush in spite of the gunshots going off all around you two.

The fight was more dangerous than expected, so Bill hoisted you up on Brown Jack without warning and raced off. Your dress ended up getting ripped from his haste, and if you really liked it, he feels bad for screwing it up. It’s easy to turn around his mood by complimenting what a good “bodyguard” he was. Just don’t flirt too much, he’s already had a mess of feelings today.

JAVIER ESCUELLA

He was trying to hide his excitement when he found out you were going to be dressing up and joining the others on this con. You’re already an angel, now he’s going to see you dressed in a beautiful gown and decorated with jewels? It fit so perfectly, too, like it was made for you. Javier wouldn’t hide his approval of the outfit, even giving you some suggestions on more comfortable shoes or a better hat. Mary-Beth thought it was adorable and left him to help you out - that made it much harder for him to hide how pleased he was with your outfit. If you truly hated it, he’d understand and would try to reassure you that not only did it look wonderful, you were going to pull the job off perfectly. His warm hands would sit on your shoulders as he said this, hoping you trusted in him. If you’re the sort who loves dressing up and conning, he shares your happiness and will even dance with you a little before you have to leave, relishing in your giggles. 

While the party went off well, with you playing your part perfectly, chaos inevitably broke out. You have no idea where Javier came from, but you were damn grateful that he’d seen you and pulled you into a safe corner. Together you both snuck into the manor, stole as much jewelry as you could carry and easily slipped out the back, gunshots still echoing through the place. Javier grinned as he draped all the stolen necklaces and bracelets on you, asking you to keep them safe for now. You clasped your arms tightly around his torso when you rode away with him, resting your head against his back whenever you got tired.

SEAN MACGUIRE

He all but jumps out of his seat with delight when he spots you. Mary-Beth is still fussing with your hair, but the corset under your dress has already done all sorts of magic, and the dress itself hugged you like you were meant to wear it. Of course he can’t resist from fawning all over you. He wants to pick you up and twirl you like a princess, but Miss Gaskill scolds him for dirtying the dress and he gets dragged away by the men. For once Sean was wishing he was away from the action and complained enough that they let him accompany you on the carriage - that is, as the driver. Sean didn’t even notice if you were extremely uncomfortable, he was too busy gabbing about the party and saying what a natural you’d be. When you finally have to leave, he takes your hand and gives you a warm smile. “You’ll do great. I know it.” He didn’t realize how comforting it was.

Once trouble began, you were impressed how quickly Sean scrambled to your side, and with your gun no less. Before you could question how he did it, he was gleefully shooting and directing you away from the fight. As much as Sean wanted to stay and end it, he was far more concerned with your safety, you noticed. He swung you up on his horse with little grace, and even if your dress was ruined with blood and mud and your hat went flying off, you laughed as you wrapped your arms around his torso and listened to the wild man whoop and shoot through the escape. Sean would absolutely be the type to help you off the horse and insist on carrying you around camp, bragging about his “rescue” the whole time.

LENNY SUMMERS

God damn it, he already thought you were cute! Now you’re gorgeous and he’s way too bashful to say anything about it for a while. He’s thankful for the girls fussing over you and the boys dragging him off to discuss the plan, because being around you is too distracting and makes his thoughts short-circuit a bit. He’s normally fine with talking to you! And it’s just a dress, so what’s different? If you really loved the outfit, you’d be a natural in it, and Lenny would find your enthusiasm and confidence very attractive. If you clearly hated it, he’d want to comfort you somehow, but would worry about coming off wrong. It’s a shame you didn’t like the outfit, because you looked fantastic in it. Before he had to leave with the boys, he’d pay you a compliment. “You’re gonna do real well, miss. Um, you … you really fit the role.”

He has a good sense of when things will go south, and when Lenny felt the tension in the air, he made a point to find you in the crowd. Ones the bullets started flying, he found you before you even made sense of the situation. Lenny would rather get you to safety right away, but if you want a gun, he ain’t denying you. All his previous nervousness would be gone as you both would shoot up the place, then find a horse to escape on. Lenny wouldn’t feel that shyness again until you both got back to camp, when he had to help you off the horse. He’ll immediately start joking about your dirty dress and praising your gun skills to keep his beating heart in line. Lenny feels much better when you’re back in your old clothes.

KIERAN DUFFY

He was embarrassed enough watching the girls parade you around, pleased with their work, and they had every right to be - you looked even more beautiful than the women in the magazines. It’s like you walked right out of them. He felt bad if you were forced into the role, knowing you probably hated the whole get-up, but if you absolutely enjoyed it, he was enchanted by how you seemed to beam with happiness. He’d only seen you like that a few other times, and he was pleased to commit it to memory. When you’re getting ready to leave, he can’t help but give you words of encouragement. He can’t imagine you’ll do anything but shine at the party. 

Kieran was tasked with staying behind at the camp, as he expected, but at least he was trusted to hold a gun and stay on watch duty. His thoughts often drifted to you, wondering if you were doing well and if you were sick of the party or having the time of your life. When he heard powerful hoofbeats, he snapped at attention, readying the gun and calling out... only to recognize your horse and your silhouette. Your dress was a torn mess, but it was still restrictive, so Kieran wasted little time in helping you down. “Miss, are you alright? You aren’t - is that your blood or someone else’s? Alright, good. C’mon, sit down here.” 

You told him about what happened at the party, how things got out of control and you had to flee in a hurry. The boys were likely splitting up to shake the law off them. Kieran was so relieved you were alright, his heart was hammering but outwardly he was calm as he helped tie your sprained ankle and get you some water. He wasn’t his nervous self at all, tending to you and asking questions with confidence ... until you pointed out you needed help getting out of the corset and dress.

TILLY JACKSON

Tilly was initially in charge of “acquiring” the jewelry and accessories you’d wear, but she ended up shooing the other girls away when they kept suggesting ridiculous hair and make-up ideas. She didn’t care what lady’s magazine Karen read, Tilly wasn’t about to turn you into a side-show act. She was always helping you with this or that, you both relied on each other. She always knew how to reassure you, taking your face in her hands as she spoke softly. “Listen, it’s nothin’ you ain’t done before, just wearin’ somethin’ fancy now. And those boys will do their job right and keep you safe, I’ll make damn sure of that.”

If you hate this sort of thing - dressing up and conning others - Tilly would’ve tried to help you get a different role, but ultimately, you had to do it. She’d give you a softer version of her usual tough love. If you loved it, Tilly would be the one teasing you to get your head out of the clouds. Either way, when you were distracted, she’d threaten the hell out of the boys to keep you safe. Even Arthur would get an earful; if you so much as came back with a scratch, she’d have their hides. If you came back a muddy, bloody mess because you couldn’t resist joining in the gunfights, Tilly would have your hide, too. If you came back mostly clean because you avoided the fight, she’d just laugh and tease you for being so “fussy” - but she was relieved you came straight to camp. The dress and jewels are all sold afterward, but Tilly keeps some bits of fabric to sew you both something. 

MARY-BETH GASKILL

You have a feeling she’s enjoying this ... a lot. While the both of you were cool as you acquired the dress and jewels to go with it, as soon as you were back at camp, Mary-Beth was giggling and going on about how to do your hair. Soon enough you were dragged off to a tent for privacy and she dressed you up, cooing over your figure in the dress and how nice you looked. She didn’t even notice how flustered you were getting - of course if you enjoyed dressing up, you could share in her enthusiasm and get her advice on how to style it. If you hated it ... Mary-Beth reassured you it looked wonderful, “just like a princess!” Well, that didn’t help, but her obvious swooning was pretty cute. Mary-Beth ended up coming along with the job, dressed up herself and playing the part of your “companion”, since all high-society ladies were about that. You’re pretty sure companions weren’t supposed to be as red-faced or affectionate as she was around their ladies, but you weren’t complaining.

At the party you two were naturals, and what little screw-ups were quickly covered up. If Mary-Beth didn’t know something, you did, and vice-versa. You two were actually quite a team, and you noticed Hosea winking at you in approval from across the room. When trouble was starting, you pulled Mary-Beth aside and you both hastily dug through the manor’s drawers and silver cabinets while the gunshots went off outside. If you needed to defend her, you would, but luckily it didn’t come to that. You were able to steal a horse from their stable and go riding off, Mary-Beth holding tightly and urging you to go faster. You both couldn’t resist keeping two matching bracelets from the robbery.

KAREN JONES

Karen may not be interested in passing as one of those hoity toity girls, but she’s absolutely gonna help dress you up as one. She’s laughing the whole time, throwing out suggestions and distracting the hell out of Tilly and Mary-Beth as they work. Karen was the one who found the dress, and you’re surprised at how well it flatters you and how the color suits you so well. “Didn’t I say I know how to pick ‘em? Now tighten up those laces! Society ladies don’t have fun!” Karen is quite pushy regardless if you want to do the job or not - if you don’t, she’ll all but drag you to the carriage the boys brought and force you in. It’s a hell of a chance to get a lot of money, and she doesn’t want you missing it. If you love it, that’s all the better! She teases you plenty either way while you’re trying to dress, and gives you a big kiss before you have to set out, not caring who sees. You were long gone by the time she turned on the boys and all but threatened them to bring you back safely.

The party was lonely without Karen, you wished she had been part of the plan so you both could talk together instead of mingling with these insufferable people. Sure, she may have been a little too loud and unladylike... but it would’ve been far more fun. You escaped on cue, making a point to steal a gorgeous stallion as you left the manor behind, listening to gunshots ring out through the night. The boys (and Sadie) were doing their part, so it was time to go home. You had not expected Karen to come riding on your horse with a gun. “Damn it, you were takin’ too long! I got worried...”

She tried to hide how worried she actually was on the way back. She helped you out of the infernal buttons, lacing and corset, and gladly snuggled your aching body. By the time the boys returned to camp, you both had fallen asleep in your tent.

FLACO HERNANDEZ

You’d mentioned the plan in passing to Flaco, and he was so worried for your safety he came all the way down from that forsaken mountain to make sure it went off well. He didn’t hide that he disliked you working with “that little gang” when you could just stay with him, but that was for another time. While everyone ran around preparing for the con, he watched with great amusement as you were primped and stuffed into a corset and ballgown, whistling at you and making plenty of jokes. You weren’t going to live this down, ever. Once your outfit and hair was mostly finished, Flaco patted his lap and you sat obediently until it was time to go. Even if you hated the dress, Flaco thinks you look beautiful and will tell you so, kissing your cheek and muttering all sorts of sweet things to distract your nerves. He really doesn’t care about showing you off, if anything, he’s amused by your friends trying to look away. 

It was hard not to think of him as the party progressed. You played the role well enough, but soon you were itching to get back to camp. Who knew how long he would stay around before going back to that cold place? The expected gunfight broke you out of your thoughts, and as you made your escape ... you suddenly felt a pair of familiar, fuzzy arms wrapping around you. “I’ve got you now, princesa. Why don’t you come back with Flaco?”

He was able to get you back, but not to your gang’s camp. Flaco had set up his own spot, making a point to bring your horse and your things... the only way the gang knew you were alright is he left word with Miss Grimshaw (after she gave him a thorough ‘questioning’ about his relationship with you).  You better believe he’d help you out of that fancy ensemble, but if you really loved it he’d urge you to dance and spin around for him. It’s a rare day when he sees you wearing something other than four layers, after all. 

[thathelplesshomeschooler]

humans are space orcs (with magic!) *skillz to pay the billz pt 1*

5wow i have been gone for a hot minute but i think i’m gonna tryn write more on here, but school’s starting up again soon so we’ll see how that actually goes. anyway, without further ado, here is another short story or sum, based on how some people can cook, and how some absolutely cannot

also i had to resist so hard from writing that’s what she said at the end so i will have to console myself with writing it up here.

***

The VIV Narrtor was docked at a WayCenter Station for repairs after a gamma burst from a neutron star had fried nearly all the sensors. As it was the humans had decided to designated this as their “vacation” and had put their money together and were renting a small abode for the duration of the repairs. Not wanting to miss out on any possible research, Drerzii had insisted that he and Tygeria rent the room across the street from the humans. 

And so Tygeria found herself the windowsill with a pair of “binoculars” as the humans called it, in her hand. Currently the humans weren’t doing much, in fact it appeared that only one of them was up and active. Uhris, clad only in his undergarments, was in the sustenance preparation room, making ready the pot of dark, steaming liquid that the humans drank every morning. She and Drerzii had suspected it to be either some sort of religious ceremony or a necessity of their species, much like how the dular always had to eat from a plant native to their planet before they ate anything else or they would die. However, neither of them had mustered the courage to ask the humans. If it was indeed a private matter, it might not be appreciated if they suspected they were being studied so thoroughly. And an angry human was not something Tygeria wanted to see. 

As she observed, the rest of the humans slowly arose from their slumber, except for Taurus. Being the largest of them all, Tygeria suspected that he likely needed more rest than the rest of them in order to move his mass around. She noted her thoughts on a holotablet. 

When she resumed her observations, she noted that Uhris was preparing sustenance, and quite a large amount. He must be feeding the entire group. It was strange she thought, since his records didn’t indicate that he had been trained in sustenance preparation, but he seemed quite adept in his actions. Perhaps he had trained in secret, hoping one day to be employed as a sustenance prepare. These “chefs” apparently were quite coveted in any group. 

The group spent most of the morning hours indoors, but what they were doing exactly Tygeria couldn’t say exactly. They were certainly enjoying themselves at the very least. Around midday Uhris and Enara walked out of the building. Tygeria leaned forward, her interested piqued. “Drerzii, Drerzii! They’re headed this way.” Her carapace tingled with mixed fear and excitement. They’d been found out. Surely the humans would be angry at being spied on. Drerzii rose from his resting state. 

“My dear Tygeria, you surely must be mistaken. The humans-” He stopped as he peered out the window, “Oh. You’re quite right Tygeria. But do calm yourself, I doubt they mean us any harm. Likely their simply curious. Their species’ natural inclement is towards curiosity rather than violence; however, I suppose we should be prepared. There, I have a clear line of communication to command should anything happen.” 

Tygeria appreciated his actions, but her carapace still tingled. A minute later there was a knock on the door. She walked quickly across the room and opened the door. Uhris and Enara stood in the entryway. 

Uhris switched his hand from scratching the back of his head to giving them a little wave. “Uh hey. Anne pointed out that you guys were staying across the street from us, and we all agreed that we couldn’t just let you guys stay here.” It was exactly as Tygeria feared, the humans were angry about being spied on. Drerzii’s flashing colors echoed her fear. “So we- Drerzii you okay? You’re putting on a whole light show my dude.”

“Oh, yes, I’m quite fine. For the time being at least.”

“Erm, yeah, whatever that means. Anyway, we’re about to have lunch, so we wanted to know if you guys wanted to join us. We might do something later, but we haven’t decided what yet.”

Tygeria lowered her head so it was on eye-level with the human. It didn’t make much of a difference to her, what with her infrared vision, but apparently it was a human gesture. “You don’t intend us any harm?”

The two humans looked on in confusion. “N-no? I mean why would we want to hurt you? We just wanted to know if you wanted to eat with us, but if you don’t that’s fine too.”

Tygeria was taken aback. Did they not know? “Because we were obs-”

“Of course we would be delighted to enjoy you for a meal. I unfortunately am unable to consume at the current moment, but I would be delighted to participate in your fellowship.”

“Oh. Great, well you guys can head on over then. Enara and I are just going to get some groceries, but we’ll be back in just a few minutes. The door’s unlocked so just head right in”

And so the humans headed off toward the provisions center of the station while Tygeria and Drerzii made their way to the humans rooms. Upon entering the room they were met with ferocious laughter. The terrifying sound of mirth coming from all three of the humans. Taurus, who apparently was in the middle of a story glanced over towards the door, his predatory eyes moving by pure instinct. He motioned with his hand. “Come on over guys, I was just telling them about when I managed to get a screw jammed up my nose.” It took a few minutes of recap for Tygeria and Drerzii to understand the situation, but it was incomprehnsible why the humans found it so funny.

Uhris and Enara arrived shortly after the story was finished. Both had bags filled with consumables in both hands. Taurus hooted from across the room “Uwu, y’all look like a couple, walking in with your groceries.”

Uhris breathed heavily through his nose, what Tygeria believed was called a “snort.” “If I was Jason maybe we’d be a couple.” At that comment Jason started coughing and Enara’s face grew red. Perhaps, Tygeria thought, this has something to do with them ‘liking’ each other.

“Anyway, we’re going to get started on lunch. Y’all just sit tight. Also Tygeria you should be able to eat this, we got food that’s edible for you too.” She clicked her thanks.

It was very considerate that the humans would use sustenance that she would be able to ingest as well. She was, however, concerned. Among her kind she was known to have rather specific preferences. However she couldn’t risk offending the humans by not eating any sustenance they prepared. But as they worked in the kitchen, her olfactory senses began to tingle. The smells of whatever it was they were making piqued her curiosity. How could one prepare food so that it would have such a smell? Was this some form of communication between human. Perhaps it was just a byproduct of whatever processes they were using to prepare the sustenance. 

She peered over to see both Uhris and Enara moving efficiently through the kitchen, handing each others utensils and ingredients as they worked. Occasionally one of them would take a small utensil and taste some of the sustenance, then make a small adjustment to the ratios of ingredients. Sometimes they would ask each others opinions or hand something off to the other. Tygeria was astonished at the ease with which they hurried through their movements. Uhris placed his creation in the heating unit and turned to the rest of them. “Alright, so this should take just a few minutes to bake, and then we’ll be good to go.”

Taurus set out dishes for everyone to eat on, except for Drerzii, who had declined on account of his metabolic processes not being in service for the time being. Once Uhris had deemed the time to be right, he carefully pulled the sustenance from the heating chamber and placed it upon the table. Enara came from the kitchen and placed what she had prepared next to Uhris’. “Just wait for it to cool down and then go ahead and dig in.”

With a laugh Jason raised his hand, “So what exactly is it that we’re eating.”

Uhris bared his teeth, then quickly changed his expression to be less frightening for Tygeria and Drerzii. “What we have here is a magherita flatbread, made completely by hand, with non-native ingredients. I subbed uthara for tomatoes for both the garnish and the sauce, and used tehari cream instead of cheese. And the crust is, actually I don’t know what it is, it just said it could be substituted on my holotablet. But Enara, tell them what you made.”

“What we have here is a fruit salad, also made with ‘non-native’ ingredients, as Uhri put it. And I put in some of the spices they had at the compound for some added flavor.”

Jason laughed, “So basically we’re having alien pizza and alien fruit salad? This is really gonna be the test guys.” With that he took out the first section of the ‘flatbread’ and took a bite. His eyes opened wide and he made a sound deep in his throat. With a mouth full of food he said, “Oh yeah, thish ish the sh*t you guys.” 

What exactly that meant, Tygeria wasn’t sure, but the rest of the humans began consuming the sustenance, and so Tygeria took one of the squares and took a bite of it herself. Her carapace tingled with delight. The flavors burst in her mouth, sweet and salty combining perfectly. She hummed with delight, this was beyond what she would have imagined the humans to be capable of. She then took a portion of the ‘fruit salad’ and ate some of that as well. It complimented the flatbread in a way that she didn’t know was even possible. She quickly secured another few servings, making sure she would have enough for later on. She would have to savor the taste whenever she had the chance. But she couldn’t help but to hum even more as she continued to feed on it. 

“Well it looks like we have one very happy customer.” Uhri said.

* * *

The rest of the day the group simply stayed indoors and talked about a myriad of subjects. Enara’s skill in the kitchen had come about simply because she liked to cook as a past time. It was, as she said, “A pleasure to see my work put smiles on faces. And even better if I can make the food healthy.” Uhri had apparently worked in his family’s business of making food for special events, something called catering, and had picked up his skills from his years helping around the kitchen. He volunteered to make another meal for dinner, but before he could start Anne stopped him. 

She stepped into the kitchen and turned to him “It’s been a while since I’ve made anything for anyone else, but I’d like to try to make something for you guys.”

Uhri shrugged, “Knock yourself out.” Tygeria was startled by this. Why would Anne hit herself so hard as to knock her unconscious? She was about to raise her concern when Uhri spoke, “I didn’t mean it literally. It’s a human saying, kind of like good luck, or go right ahead.” 

She hummed her acknowledgement, but was still confused as to why anyone would say this. 

Taurus paused, “Wait Anne, I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Well I did live by myself for two years in college. And I got sick of instant ramen after the first semester, so I had to learn.” 

This made sense to Tygeria, humans apparently had to fend for themselves once they reached a certain age. Their parents would assist but for the most part they were on their own. Next to her Drerzii trumpeted with delight. “Why, Tygeria I have been fastidiously taking notes of this whole occasion, and I would like to mull over them with you later. We can see what our thoughts are, but this entire time has been so enlightening.”

A few short minutes later Anne huffed out of the kitchen a steaming platter in her hands. The smell coming from it was just as strong as the one coming from the earlier dishes, but not quite so delectable in nature. Anne plopped it down in the middle of the table and introduced the dish. “It’s a bean casserole, or at least as close as I could get to one with what we have.”

Jason was again the first one to take a bite. He slowly pulled his utensil out of his mouth. Anne beamed, “So, what do you think?”

Jason shook slightly, “It’s definitely something else. You’ve got a real flavor there I’ll tell you that.” He timidly placed another portion in his mouth, shutting his eyes as he did so. 

The others began to eat, and had similar reactions. Slow, and usually taking a drink of water after every bite they had. It was a completely different reaction to what they had before. Before she could take a bite, Drerzii whispered in her ear, “Tell me what it tastes like.” 

So she  put a large portion on her plate, and another large portion in her mouth. If it was anything like the bliss she had tasted earlier she would have to start eating the humans food more often. Unfortunately, it was nothing like what she had eaten earlier. It was as if whatever the flavor was meant to be had become evil and was attacking her mouth. And the way it felt, it was incredibly dry, parching her mouth. She quickly grabbed a cup of water and downed it, trying to suppress the taste and texture. She turned to Drerzii and spoke quietly, not wanting to offend Anne, “It’s awful. I would not recommend trying it.” She looked back to see Anne staring directly at her. Her predatory hearing must have heard Tygeria’s report. 

“Is it actually that bad? I know I might have fudged some of the spices, but was it actually that bad?” 

Tygeria started to panic. How could she tell the human that it was possibly the worst thing she had ever tasted? Humans were easily offended when it came to things they made themselves. It wouldn’t do for her to insult the food. But she could thing of no other honest alternative. Right as she was about to confirm, Taurus spoke. “To be honest Anne, it’s not great. It’s pretty dry and you overdid it with the flavoring. But trust me it’s not as bad as my grandmothers cooking. That was a culinary nightmare. I can at least eat this.” 

Anne nodded, liquid gathering at the bottoms of her eyes. Tygeria tilted her head, she had heard that liquid spilled from humans eyes when they got emotional, and the action even had a name. So she asked, “Are you going to cry?”

Instantly Anne stood straight, and shook her head. “Throw the food away. I’ll just go out and grab something pre-made.” With that she dashed out the door. 

“Did I say something wrong?”

“I mean, yeah, you aren’t really supposed to ask people if they’re going to cry.” Taurus said, “But at least we don’t have to finish the food. God it was disgusting, I thought I was going to throw up.” 

Enara struck him on the shoulder. “Don’t say that, she tried her best.”

“I mean am I wrong?”

Enara raised her hand as if to cuff him again, but slowly let her arm down. “No, not really, it was pretty terrible. I’m going to go find her, but let’s do try to cheer her up when she comes back.” And with that Enara rose and left the room. As soon as she had Uhris spat out a slimy, semi-chewed portion of the food. “That shit was nasty, I couldn’t bring myself to swallow.”

Tygeria wondered how any human could take the risk of attempting to prepare sustenance of the potential for disaster was this, this massacre of the tastebuds.

[thorfemmes]

Cloudy

in which harry hates summer storms, but she loves them.

Hi everyone! I know I’m not really a fan account, so please feel free to skip over this post if you don’t want to read fanfic! I’ve decided to take part in @helladirections​ ‘s Summer Feeling writing challenge, and this is what I came up with! Feedback is greatly appreciated, I’m trying to hype myself up into writing again. Also thank you @jasline-arod​ for being my beta reader, I love you endlessly!<3

Prompts: summer reading & ice cream

Rated 18+: fluff, SMUT, soft dom!harry, teasing, edging, punishment, impact play, light bondage, condescension kink if you squint, cute aftercare!!! 

Word Count: 3.8k

Summer storms were quite melancholy.

Harry supposed he was being a bit dramatic, considering (y/n) loved the rain. If it weren’t for the possibility of getting a cold and the wandering eyes from their surrounding neighbors she would be out dancing and skipping around the backyard in the puddles and mud. But alas, their neighbors were a bit too nosy and she couldn’t afford any sick time off at work right now, so she was using this day to clean the house. Some last minute spring cleaning as she called it.  

Harry, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to roll around in the sheets all day with her. The young couple had planned a nice date out for the day: a stroll around the neighborhood, a picnic in the park, maybe some window shopping in the plaza. Their car was currently in the shop so anything they wanted to do would have to be within walking distance -(y/n) really didn’t like Ubering around. Mother Nature apparently had other plans. 

Which leads us here. Harry had seen the storm die down and in all of his stubborn brilliance had insisted on making an ice cream run. ‘S just a little drizzle! He maintained. I’ll be back before you know it, Poppet. It turns out “a little drizzle” can easily turn into torrential downpour in the twenty minutes it takes Harry to bike to and from the grocery store. He couldn’t believe his luck, and now as he approached his front door sopping wet and dragging his bike up the steps, he was silently cursing himself for deciding Ben and Jerry’s was worth the trek. 

“Babe? Is everything alright?” (Y/n) proffered over the soft music she had put on when he left. She could hear his frustrated grumbles and sighs from the living room and had of course seen the storm pick up. 

“ ‘M fine, sweetheart, just a bit wet ‘s all.” Harry griped from the kitchen. He quickly dried off the pints of ice cream and stuck them in the freezer before pouring a bowl of uncooked rice for his cell phone. Flicking off the lights in the kitchen, spotless and dust-free thanks to (y/n), he walked into the living room to find her tucked into the corner of the couch reading a book.

Peering over the pages, her eyes softly danced over her lover -damp and frumpy from the rain outside. He had a slight pout on his face that made her giggle playfully, eyes glittering with nothing but adoration and humor. 

“My strong love, fought the rain and thunder just to get his girlfriend ice cream.”

He snorted at her, trying his hardest to hold back a smile. “Think I deserve a prize, don’t you think? It was quite brave of me to go out there, I could’ve gotten swept away by the flood of puddles!”

Her laugh rang like a chime. It was times like this, soft and quiet and domestic, that made his heart skip a beat. She made him delirious and dizzy with love. 

“Of course, my love. Your prize is in the bathroom, hanging from the towel rack. I saw the rain pick up and figured you might come home a bit soggy,” She said with a laugh. “Go get changed, when you come back we can lounge about and read together.”

Harry’s heart fluttered as he shuffled out of the living room. When he came back, now changed into a crisp crew neck shirt and some washed worn sweats, he quickly popped over in front of his love. She looked up from the novel in front of her, stars in her eyes. Harry quickly leaned down and showered her in kisses. Anywhere he could reach was covered in smooches. She wiggled and whined playfully as he threw his leg over her waist, but not before grabbing the book and laying it on the coffee table face down. They grappled and playfully dodged kisses until she cried “Alright! Fine you win!” with a ridiculous pout and her hands pinned to the couch under Harry’s grasp. 

“You’re so mean,” she pouted through puffs of air.

“Mean ‘m I? Would a mean boyfriend have gone out in the harsh winter storm for-”

“It’s the middle of July!” 

“For pints of Chunky Monkey, Phish Food, Karamel Sutra, and Tonight Dough? I don’t think tha’s very mean, d’you?”

Harry swore the sigh she let out sounded harmonious. “No, I suppose not. It sounds like you’re spoiling me, huh?” She tried to loosen his grip again. “Let me up, please?”

He grinned down at her. “Kissy first?”

She leaned up the best she could for a smooch before he let her get back up. Harry laid down on the couch and patted his tummy with the hand not resting under his neck. 

“C’mere, let’s read.”

(Y/n) crawled between Harry’s legs and laid between them, her head resting on his soft stomach. “Mm, nice and comfy.”

Harry chuckled with her, loving the warmth and comfort the weight of her gave him. He wrapped an arm around the front of her chest and softly rubbed his thumb over her shoulder. 

“Do you want me to start the chapter over?” She asked, perfectly content to reread for him.

“Course not, Petal! Just pick up where you left off, please.”

“ ‘I’m going to America. To seek my fortune.’ (This was just after America but long after fortunes.) ‘A ship sails soon from London. There is great opportunity in America. I’m going to take advantage of it. I’ve been training myself. In my hovel. I’ve taught myself not to need sleep. A few hours only. I’ll take a ten-hour-a-day job and then I’ll take another ten-hour-a-day job and I’ll save every penny from both except what I need to eat to keep strong, and when I have enough I’ll buy a farm and build a house and make a bed big enough for two.’ ”

Harry began to lose focus on the story, instead concentrating on his petal’s voice, soft and clear enough for just the two of them. Almost as if the bubble around them might burst if she spoke too loudly. She began to alter her voice, adding in dashes of accents and key changes as the characters varied. Harry let a heavy breath fall from his nose as he smiled and bit his lip with a smile. 

“ ‘Do you love me, Westley? Is that it?’ ”

Harry held his breath.

“ He couldn’t believe it. ‘Do I love you? My God, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches. If your love were-’ ” 

Now, Harry knows he has a very specific taste in literature. And while he may personally prefer obscene prose and Joan Didion, this line -from a novel built on fantasies -was embroidered on his heart in bright yellow thread. The millions of grains of sand could not even begin to embody how dearly and how fiercely he loved her. His heart physically ached at the thought of her; her presence, her laugh, smile, ambition, everything. He loved (y/n) in a way he never imagined possible. Harry could not even begin to fathom a world without her. And if the little velvet box hidden in an old shoe box behind a ton of winter coats in the upstairs closet was anything to go by, he didn’t want to begin imagining it. 

“Lovey, are you okay?” (Y/n) spoke up. She noticed him stiffen up immediately after she finished reading that paragraph. 

Silence followed her question. She stuck the loose playing card she had found into the book to mark her place and gently sat up to shift herself in his lap, setting the book down on the coffee table again. Harry was pulled from his thoughts of navy blue suits and white lace gowns when she softly called his name again and stroked his cheeks with her thumbs.

“Is everything alright Harry? You zoned out for quite a while there.”

Harry looked at the heavenly sight in front of him. Her hair was a bit mussed up from the cleaning and the sweat that had no doubt appeared in the slightly humid house. She sat in an old cropped cotton shirt that proudly touted a faded improv club logo from college on it (she had gone to one meeting and of course it was the meeting where they gave out free t-shirts) with wrinkles and dried stains from cleaning spray. Her gray pajama shorts had little line drawings of bumble bees on them, and were currently riding up her thighs as they sat straddling Harry’s hips. He dragged his eyes to look at her face. He swore she was glowing in the grayish sunlight streaming from the windows. Little moles and freckles and acne scars dotted across her makeup-less face. Her eyes were wide and her lips were gaped open slightly in worry as his silence continued.

Harry finally, finally took in a breath (he desperately needed it, he didn’t realize she had literally stolen his breath away) and mumbled “ ‘M fine, petal. I just love you so much,” and with that closed the all too wide gap between them. 

Her eyes widened just a bit more before kissing back, her eyes fell closed and her hands held tightly to his cheeks. Harry swore the kiss was meant to be gentle, but then he found himself nibbling on her bottom lip and soothing the slight sting with his tongue when she whined against him. She pulled away breathlessly and looked over his face, now flushed crimson with their movements.

“I love you too!” She breathily laughed. “Let’s-”

Her thoughts were lost as Harry began to kiss a trail from below her ear and down her neck, one hand squeezing her soft hip and the other holding her head in place as she squirmed (she was a bit ticklish). He sucked and softly bit at the junction between her neck and shoulder as she let out a faint moan at the attention being given to the sensitive skin. She ran her fingers through his loose curls and gently led his head back up to meet her lips. She tenderly rolled her hips against his -his hands quickly following the motion. 

“Ah, fuck baby. You’re so fuckin’ sexy m’love,” Harry groaned against her lips. They were breathing in each other's air, hips thrusting against the other and hands grasping at fabric and anywhere they could grab. Harry lowered his hand to cup her hot pussy over her shorts, rubbing his palms against her clothed clit.

“Mmf, please Harry please!” She wanted him so badly, she was this close to ripping his clothes off at the seams.

“What d’you want baby girl? Hmm? Ask me nicely ‘nd maybe I’ll give it to you.” 

The air shifted between them. She knew he would give her whatever she wanted, but the power was now in his corner. She whined loudly and bucked her hips up as he teased the waistband of her shorts.

“Don’t be a brat, petal. You won’t like the outcome.” Harry grinned up at her, running his thumb over her bottom lip that had stuck out with a pout. “Why don’t we run upstairs so I can fuck you properly. Tha’ is unless you want to stay down here with a sore bum ‘nd nothin’ else? Hmm, petal?”

“Harry, I swear if you don’t do something I’m going to screa- ah!” Harry’s hand came down on her ass with a loud smack! 

(Y/n)’s eyes widened as she scrambled off of his lap and up the stairs to their “guest” bedroom, Harry not far behind. Harry giggled at her antics. Of course he wasn’t planning on leaving her needy and wanting, but she was being bratty and he couldn’t have that now could he?

(Y/n) all but threw herself onto their bed and ripped off her clothing, absolutely desperate for whatever Harry threw her way. She’d ride his thigh if that’s all he’d give her. She was that needy right now. 

She scrambled up the bed and sat down with her legs crossed, patiently waiting as Harry stood at the foot of the bed.

“I think 10 swats on your bum are an appropriate punishment for you steppin’ out of line. Don’t you think, baby?”

“Yes, sir.” (Y/n) watched as he walked around the side of the bed. He reached into the bedside table and pulled out a bottle of shea butter lotion and the pretty pink ribbon she was all too familiar with.

“Lay down on your tummy, petal,” Harry said, setting everything on the table. 

(Y/n) quickly laid down, grabbing her pillow and nestling her cheek into it. Harry grabbed one of the extra pillows and shoved it under her hips. He then pulled off the t-shirt and shrugged off his sweats, leaving him in a pair of heather gray briefs that left nothing to the imagination. 

“You’ve such a pretty bum, sweetheart. ‘M so excited to see it marked up with my hand marks,” Harry caressed and massaged her cheeks carefully. “Count aloud for me, lovie.”

(Y/n) was about to answer when Harry’s hand came down on her left cheek, hard. “One!” She squeaked out.

“D’you know why you’re bein’ punished, lovie?” Smack!

“Ah! Two! Yes sir! I was being bad earlier. I was being naughty and begging without saying please!” 

Harry rubbed over the sore area. “Very good, baby. Are you going to do it again?” Smack! Smack! Smack! Three spanks came in succession.

“Three! Fou-, Four! Five! No, Sir! I won’t!” She squirmed and hid her face in the pillow as her grip tightened on the material. She was a bit embarrassed at the fact that she was already getting teary eyed, but it had been a second since she'd been punished like this.

Harry paused and moved her hair out from around her face. “How are you doin’ (Y/n)? Gimme a color, please.”

“Green, Harry. I’m good, please keep going.” She wiggled and lifted her ass up towards Harry's other hand.

“Okay, lovie. Just makin’ sure.” Harry quickly kissed her cheek then pushed her head back into the pillow. She moaned loudly at the forcefulness.

The rest of the spanks came and went, leaving both of them breathless and stinging. Harry reached up and grabbed (Y/n) by the hair to pull her on all fours, his other hand removing the pillow from under her hips before running his fingers over her pussy.

“Y’not gonna do tha’ again, are you, petal?” He said smugly.

“No sir,” She hiccupped. 

A jolt ran through her as he gathered her wetness and began circling her clit with two fingers. 

“So sensitive, petal. Bet you almost came jus’ from me spankin’ you. Maybe you don’ need my cock after all? Maybe I should jus’ take care of myself and leave you here, what d’you think, petal? ”

She let out a pitiful moan. (Y/n)’s whole body was shaking; she was desperately trying not to come, her arms were shaking from holding herself up, and her breath was shaking from the stimulation of it all. She was almost there, almost ready to come when Harry suddenly let go of her hair and stopping playing with her pussy. Her arms gave out under her as she whined desperately at the loss of stimulation.

“Please! No, don’t leave me!” She sobbed. “I need it! Please give me your cock sir! I’ll be so good, I won’t come without askin’ please! Ple-”

“Okay, shh baby. Shh, ‘m gonna make y’feel so good. Y’such a good girl f’me.”

Harry leaned down and kissed up her spine gently. As he reached the base of her neck he grabbed the pink ribbon and ran it teasingly over her shoulders. “Color?”

She sniffled a bit before answering confidently, “Green, sir.”

“Tha’s my girl.” He pulled her up so she was kneeling and grabbed her arms, skillfully tying a cute little bow around her wrists. She wiggled a bit to make sure it was comfortable. Once she was settled, Harry pushed her back down into the pillow.

“What a sight. Must’ve been savin’ this for a rainy day, huh petal?”

She snorted at his joke but was quickly silenced by his finger sinking into her pussy. She hissed at the sensation, already a bit sensitive from the first orgasm he denied her. 

“Y’always so warm for me, lovie. So warm ‘n tight. Can’t wait for my cock, can you?”

She whined and pushed back on his fingers as he added another, thrusting in and curling to find her g-spot. “Please! I’ve been so good, I’m ready!”

He chuckled at her begging, letting his thumb pet over her clit again before pulling his fingers out of her after one final thrust. “Y’think you’re ready, baby girl? I know I am.”

“Mhmm,” she nodded. “I’m ready, I promise.”

Harry used the wetness he had gathered from fingering her and stroked himself a few times, exhaling heavily as some pressure was finally released. He grabbed the ribbon where her wrists were tied and lined himself up, pushing gently into her soaked cunt.

They both released a guttural moan as he moved in her; her walls tightening around him and his length rubbing inside her perfectly.

As she felt him bottom out she let out a sob that was stuck in her chest. “Fu-ck. Thank you! You feel so fuck-fucking good!” He growled in response, reaching around and playing with her clit again while he waited for her to get accustomed to his size. She choked out another moan and squirmed, crying “Please! You can move now, please fuck me!”

He pulled out until only the head of his cock remained in her cunt, and then thrusted back in experimentally. Her moan spurred him on, allowing him to continue to set a slow and rough pace. 

“Holy fuck, bunny. Y'feel so good,” Harry grit through his teeth. “I love this fuckin’ cunt, this ‘s all fo’ me, huh?”

She moaned and nodded as she squeezed his cock as tight as she could like a good girl. She wanted to behave, be his good girl. (Y/n) wiggled her hands at him as he continued to thrust. He got the hint and laced his fingers with hers. She let out a contented sigh that melted into a moan as his thrusting sped up. He loosened one of his hands from her grasp to reach down and stroke her button of nerves. 

She wailed in response, tears brimming in her eyes again from the overwhelming sensations attacking her. Harry was all that existed. He surrounded her, stopped playing with her bundle of nerves and reached his hand up to wrap around her neck, pulling her up to meet his kisses. All she could feel, smell, taste as he paused thrusting to slide his tongue into her mouth before slamming back into her and letting her drop back into the pillow. 

“Sh-shit baby girl. I can feel y'squeezin me, you’re almost there aren’t you?” She nodded in response, unable to form words. “Hold it jus’ a bit longer, I know you can do it. Fo’ me please, petal. Wanna feel tha’ cunt come with me.”

She shuddered as she fought to hold her orgasm back. Her cunt clenched and dripped down her thighs as Harry pounded into her as quickly as he possibly could without hurting either of them. 

“N-now! Come now, petal! Give it to me, baby. Come for me!”

(Y/n) came with a shout, her eyes shut as tightly as possible. Her whole body clamped down onto Harry’s cock as she came and came and came. Her orgasm pulled Harry’s out of him, milking him for everything he had. One final thrust had him filling her with his cum, both moaning at the feeling of her pussy being filled even more.

She slumped into the pillow, body feeling like pudding. Harry leaned over her as they both took a moment to catch their breaths, both spent and relaxed after their afternoon delight. Harry recovered first, gently pulling out of her cunt. She clenched around him as he left her, almost as if she was inviting him to stay.

He quickly untied her wrists, mind set on dealing with his spilled seed later. He delicately rubbed the tender area, gently kissing the indentations.

“Y’did so good for me, (Y/n), thank you baby,” he whispered to her. She looked at him with foggy eyes, the afterglow finally settling in. She hummed in acknowledgment of his praise, smiling softly at him. “I’ll be ri’ back, petal. I’ve gotta go grab stuff to clean you up.”

He ran as quickly as possible to grab water bottles and snacks from downstairs, before stopping for a wet washcloth and a change of clothes for her on the way back. He set the food and spoons on the bedside table before cracking open a water bottle for her.

“Can you sit up a mo’? I know your bum’s a bit sore.” He helped her sit up enough to drink the water he gave her. As she gulped down the water, thankful for the cool drink to sooth her heated throat, he gently wiped up the mess he made of her pussy. He ran and tossed the cloth into their ensuite sink, quickly returning to his love. 

“Can I rub some shea butter on your bum and wrists? It’ll help with the soreness, lovie.” 

She sleepily nodded before asking “Could you please pull my hair back? It’s sweaty and itchy now.”

He laughed at her cloudy state and grabbed one of their scrunchies off of the dresser and carefully tied up her hair. He then pumped some lotion into his hands, warmed it slightly and guided her to lay down on her tummy again so he could soothe the red marks. After a few moments, when her fogginess had cleared and they were giggling and cracking jokes as he jiggled her bum in his hands, he helped her get up and walk to the toilet so she could relieve and redress herself before heading to their bedroom with the snacks. 

(Y/n) climbed into bed, mindful of her sore bum, and excitedly grabbed the remote to turn on a movie for the couple to unwind to. Harry followed closely with two pints of ice cream and spoons -Chunky Monkey for her and Karamel Sutra for himself. They giggled again and settled down under the blanket as the opening scene to Clueless started on their television. 

Taking a bite of the ice cream, (Y/n) looked over at her boyfriend. “Hey Har?” He looked at her, mouth full. “Thank you for getting us ice cream even though there was a storm. And for letting me read to you. I hope you enjoyed your prize.” She winked at him with a huge grin.

Heartily laughing, he leaned over and landed a loud smooch onto her cheek. “Of course, anything for you my love.”

As she cuddled into his side, snacking on ice cream and watching this cheesy rom-com, he knew he needed to find a reason to excuse himself to the closet that evening.

[princecharmingmendes]

Heart by Heart | Chapter III | Raul Mendes

                                               *secret agent AU*

Y/N and Raul have been friends ever since they could remember. And falling in love with your best friend can be pretty tricky and messy 99% of the times, add that to the fact they're constantly risking their lives side by side on the field since they're both secret agents, and the best team that's ever existed. Perfect recipe for disaster.

Hi, this is the third chapter of this series, you can find the first one here. Please read the warnings on this one, if you don't feel comfortable with the contents listed on the "warnings" section, please read something else, there are a lot of other works on my masterlist and on the "fic rec" hashtag on my blog. Please give me some feedback and I hope you guys like. Happy Reading!

                                 previous chapter | masterpost | next chapter

*Word Count: 4.1K+

*Warnings: cursing, probably wrong tips about physical fighting (I'm sorry, I know shit about it!),  therefore mentions of physical fight (only training though), jealousy if you squint.  

Please don’t read it if any of this subjects make you uncomfortable, feel free to check my masterlist for other writings. 

*Posted: July 15th, 2021.

                                                   -*-

Y/N wishes she could punch Raul’s perfectly aligned teeth and annoying smirk away. 

Ever since their mission was announced a couple of days ago, Raul made her work out hard, harder than she’s been doing for a while. It’s not like she was in a bad shape, she couldn’t exactly avoid training being constantly sent on field missions. But since she normally stood on a far safe distance, she didn’t need to run 10 miles everyday on the treadmill or on the streets -which was her best friend’s preferred spot since the terrain was irregular and they had to be alert every single minute so they don’t end up being hit by a car. And that’s precisely what he made her do. 

They had to be at work at 8:00 a.m. every day, so Raul picked her up at 5:30 so they could have breakfast before their run, she’d then curse him on the way back to her apartment so they could get ready. He would only laugh at her, promising it would be worth it. Then they’d go into a meeting to discuss final details with the people they picked to form their team. After a long meeting arranging mostly details and cover up stories, they’d go to lunch, only to come back and train using the new gear, shooting and physical fight. The group had to be ready to face pretty much everything imaginable, the risk of this mission was like no other Y/N could remember, so they had to be the best of the best. 

So yeah, maybe Raul was just being careful, but she was sure he was only finding new ways to torture her. 

That’s why the team consisted on Raul as the captain, or co-captain as she liked to tease, and Y/N as the responsible for the strategy. There was Jack who was picked to be Raul’s right hand on the field, he was an experienced agent and has worked with him on many occasions, meaning their chemistry on the field was great. He was a huge, strong man with the sweetest and kindest heart, always laughing out loud and making jokes around. Then there was Celine. Celine’s past is a mystery no one was able to figure out, at least not yet. She was not a person of many words, always quietly watching everyone and everything, ready to shoot the first one that comes her way. Despite being Daphne’s cousin, who was all soft touches and pastel colors, Celine was brutally honest and even a little blunt, but had a great soul with good intentions, maybe just not the best person skills on the team.

And despite all that, she seemed to like Y/N for some reason, wasn’t the biggest fan of Raul, but she didn’t deny he was a great agent. So Y/N picked her cause she trusted her with her life, knowing she would do anything necessary to finish their mission. And then there was Thomas. Tommy as Raul liked to tease, was a newly turned full agent (three month ago to be precise) and still lacked a bit of that intuition only time and experience could give you, nonetheless he was a suggestion the boss made herself. Thomas was a great agent, with fresh ideas and still a bit naive, but he was quick at thinking, new a lot about tech and was a great field agent high made him a lot more complete than older ones. And with that, the team was closed and all worked out together after lunch until their bodies gave out. 

And to make it simple, the beginning was hellish, the end of the week was just like the beginning. 

The first day they started training physical combat, she was paired with Celine, which she was sure was attempted murder. Five minutes fighting she was on the floor, unable to move and breathing hard. Raul quickly climbed on the ring, helping her to get up as he told Celine to replace him with Tom. He moved her to sit on the little bench and brought her a bottle of water as she shook her head. 

“You know I can walk and do this myself, right?”

Raul huffed an amused laugh and nodded, sitting beside her “of course I do, doll, just taking care of my girl, yeah?”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, bumping his shoulder with hers as she chugged the water down “maybe I’m way worst than I originally thought”

“No, you’re not bad” he said shaking his head and she let out an annoyed breath “I mean it, you’re just rusty, this is not your field anyway, and you can’t use any weapons on the ring, so it’s harder, come on, you just need to activate muscle memory”  Raul said patting her back as he got up. 

“Wish I could believe in myself like you do” she giggled sadly as she took his bigger outstretched hand, letting him pull her up.

“Me too, but don’t worry, we’ll get there, that’s why you have me, silly” he pinched her cheeks “now come on, you’ve got a lot to remember”

He took her to the punching bags, grabbing a pair of gloves for him to wear for her to punch. Then proceeded to bark orders and different combinations of moves, and surprisingly, she remembered most of them, not necessarily executing them perfectly, but it was a start. He then got rid of the gloves before carefully wrapping her hands and moving her to a punching bag. 

“Here’s the thing, doll, you know what you’re doing, you just need to do it better” He placed his hands on her shoulders straightening her position, one hand sliding down her right arm to correct the movement “try it now” he said, his warm breath on her ear, making her suppress a shiver and forcing her to focus on the bag in front of her. 

Y/N tried and it definitely improved, but it still wasn’t what she remembered doing, something felt off “okay, yeah, thanks”

“Good, now fix your legs, you’ll be fighting someone who possibly knows how to fight back, so rearrange your feet to gain more balance in case they come for you” he instructed, hands still on her shoulders as he used his own feet to fix hers in the floor “yeah, that’s it, now the strength” his gently glided down her arms, only for them to stop at her waist and stomach “this is where you have to focus on, contracting abdominal muscles will help the movement and impact of your punch, this is what you’re missing”

She knew he wasn’t necessarily teasing her or anything, this was just Raul trying to help her in his very touchy way, but that didn’t stop Y/N from becoming a bit speechless, not trusting her own voice to respond, she only nodded her head. To which he just laughed stepping back.

“Relax your shoulders and don’t forget how to breathe, doll” he said crossing his arms above his chest as he watched her finally letting go of her breath, taking a deep one before punching a few times

It wasn’t perfect, but it was almost there.

Raul knew she was good and completely capable of taking anyone down within seconds, her grades on every test they ever took serving as even more proof for them. She just needed to remember it a bit and he wanted her to be completely ready to face anything, he couldn’t afford her getting hurt on anybody’s watch, specially his. So he would do anything he possibly could to avoid that. 

“Good, now give a few more, try a few kicks” he said and she looked back at him to nod, her breathing a bit elaborate  “I’ll meet on the ring later, sweetheart” Raul added with a wink before turning around to see the rest. 

“Fuck you” he heard her mumbling before turning back to her task at hand, making him chuckle lightly as he moved around the gym. 

Raul walked around helping as he could, wrestling with Jack for old time’s sake, adjusting a few of Tom’s moves and helping Celine with the new guns they’re given. He even managed to train a bit himself, before he decided it was time to take her to the ring before Y/N gave up on him and moved to something else. So he walked up to find her talking to Jack, he couldn’t hear much, but he heard enough to know it was time to intervene. 

“-yeah, Adrian keeps asking me about you, I think he wants to take you out, you should go, he’s a great guy and word around he’s good in what he does, if you know what I mean” he teased wiggling his eyebrows at Y/N, making her giggle “you should go out with him, really, you’re both single”

“He can ask her out when we’re back, the only date she’s having for now is on the ring, come on, doll” Raul cut the conversation before he could listen to her reply. 

“Jealous, cap?” Jack asked with a lopsided smile on his lips as she just laughed.

“Of Y/N? All the time, a pretty girl like her always has everyone’s attention, you should see whenever we go out to eat something or whatever”

Y/N rolled her eyes “oh please, shut up, both of you”

��I mean it, doll, now come on, let’s see how you improved” he said cracking his knuckles “and you, haven’t you got anything better to do than gossip?”

“Of course not, I’m all done” Jack replied.

“Done of getting your ass beaten today, you’ll only be ready whenever you’re able to take me down” Raul said as he draped his arm around Y/N’s shoulder. 

Jack only threw a middle finger at Raul as both of the boys laughed. 

Y/N and Raul climbed on the closest ring, with her stretching a bit as he did the same, both in some sort of staring competition. Everything with them could easily become a competition -who drank water fastest, little races to get to a certain place, who could count the most amount of super specific cars on a road trip, but the most common and their personal favorite, staring competition. And that was a recurring thing ever since they’re basically babies. And they both hated loosing and would try as hard as they could to beat the other. 

Raul’s mind was racing. He wanted to ask if she was actually interested in someone at if she’d say eyes to whoever wanted to ask her out, or even if she actually looking for a date or maybe even if she didn’t want a serious relationship for now. All that while he had this beautiful sparkling with excitement eyes staring into his soul, leaving him bare for her to read. Meanwhile, she was only trying to concentrate on what was about to happen and also on trying to keep her heart at a normal pace, knowing full well she was about the get really close to her best friend. Also having the other stare at her so intently it was making it hard for her to breathe properly.

“Ready?”

Raul only smiled at her “Was born ready, doll”

Y/N then surged forward, getting him by surprise with her punch landing on his shoulder, and he had to admit, her punch was good. With the element of shock on her favor, she tried hitting him again, clearly avoiding his face. Raul then stepped forward regaining his composure and cornering her slowly, only blocking her attempted attacks, without fighting back. He then was kicked hard on the thigh, a surprised yelp leaving his lips with the painful sensation spreading through his muscles, and just as she was about to hit him in his chest, he grabbed her hand, the other being quick to join his grasp on his right hand. 

“Not so bad, sweetheart” he said with a triumph smile on his lips but she was quick to get her left hand loose moving around to get out of the space he guided her to limit her space.

Then she started her series of punches and kicks again, him dodging most of them, but still being hit a few times making him proud but at the same time breath heavier on the pain spreading on his abused skin. When her hand came to hit him in the chest again, he grabbed it, already bringing the other one to join, before bringing her to the floor and immobilizing her with his own body. Y/N stopped struggling quickly, knowing she wasn’t going to be able to do much to get out of his grasp. She was panting heavily, but it was worth it, cause she was able to make him sweat and be a little less composed than when they started. 

“Bet your secret admirer would be proud” Raul said still unmoved on top of her.

“Bet he would” Y/N sassed back and Raul chuckled, dropping his head to her collarbone and she swear her heart skipped a beat, her breath hitching on her throat. 

Raul got up, offering a hand to her, which she gladly took “are you going out with him?”

“I don’t know, I don’t even know if that’s true or the guy, maybe? I think this is not the moment, so maybe i’m the future, who knows?” she shrugged, grabbing her water bottle and drinking before offering it to him.

“Yeah, you’re probably right” he said closing it again, pulling the ropes for her to step out.

Y/N turned around to face Raul, and as she waited for him she asked “what about you?”

“Me? What about me?” Raul stared at her, noticing the others were already gone.

“Are you proud?” she asked with a teasing smirk, voice playful, but deep down, that was all that mattered to her. Not Adrian or anyone else.

“I’m always proud of you, doll” he smirked at her and she only shook her head giggling “but yes, you’re good at it, just a bit more practice, you’re a natural”

                                                  -*-

“Come on, sweetheart, climb up here and I’ll let you all go so you can get ready for tomorrow” Raul said as he was propped up by the hopes on the ring, a smirk on his lips as everyone started gathering around. 

It was the last day of preparing before they left the next morning. They’ve spent the whole week perfecting their skills and cover ups until it rolled out smoothly off their tongues. Y/N and Raul started a routine, they decided to set camp on his living room since it was a lot bigger than hers, so they would wake up already on his place, grab breakfast, run for a while before going straight to work. Then they’d meet their teammates for a brief discussion, after hitting the gym until their limbs gave out. When it neared 6 p.m., they’d leave for his place where they’d shower and order takeout or cook something simple, before talking until they fell asleep, most nights on the living room.

And despite she remembered as clear as day she fell asleep on the couch, she would wake up on his bed, wrapped on a heavy duvet, with the sound of water droplets hitting the ground from his bathroom. They never talked about it, both acting as if this routine was normal and settled for years now. And it was shocking how well they fit the role of this whole domestic situation. And Peter was loving it, always throwing knowing looks at her whenever she went to visit his lab area. 

Y/N only rolled her eyes at him and Celine bumped her shoulder on Y/N’s, a feline smile gracing her sharp gorgeous features, and then  she turned to the six feet man standing at the edge of the ring “fine, but you’re buying me dinner”

“Whatever you want, and if you’re able to win, I’ll even buy sushi for you and give you a back massage” he offered as he pulled the ropes to help her climb, bowing his head trying to hold back a chuckle.

She climbed on as he let the rope snap back into its place “And what would I have to do if I loose?” she teased, knowing full well she was going to take the offer only to have a chance to rub his smirk on the dirty and sweaty ground beneath her feet.

“Pack my bag and say I’m the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid your eyes on” he stated simply. And honestly, it wouldn’t be such a hard thing to do, but first, she wouldn’t want to add it to his already over inflated ego, second, she didn’t know if she would be able to say it without blurting out some other compromising feelings. 

But Y/N stares at him and smiled lazily, like she wasn’t bothered at all  and truly contemplating his offer “tempting”

“Come on, babydoll” he mockingly pouted at her and she playfully sighed rolling her eyes, cracking her knuckles and rolling her head. 

“Alright, but you better be ready to order from my favorite place and get me dessert” she added with a pointed look and he nodded eagerly. 

“You make the rules” he winked before walking backwards to his designated spot “ready?”

“Yeah, let’s get this over it so you can buy me dinner” she teased, watching from the corner of her eyes as her teammates and even Peter gathered around to watch “or we can just stay here all night watching you brag about yourself and being all talk no action”

Raul laughed before shaking his head and a more concentrated look latch onto his eyes “don’t hold back, sweetheart”

“Not my thing” she said before taking a deep breath and trying to remember all she learned this week, making her first move.

Raul blocked her relatively easily, and then their movements flowed in an intricate rhythm. With only a few days of training, the improvement on her technique was obvious as she maneuvered a lot more gracefully than before. Her hits a lot more consistent, her defense was up and she was able to notice her opponents weakness so she could plan the next move. Y/N was also able to notice patterns on their tactics and predict their next move. 

And he was a bit shocked. In a good way, but shocked nonetheless. 

He knew she was good, Raul’s seen her training before, saw all her tests and grading throughout the years. Hell, he even taught her a lot of tricks he picked up over the years, so he knew how she behaved on a physical fight, knew her favorite moves and her worst ones like the back of his hand. But she surprised him with a few new hits and tricks he hasn’t seen her doing before. And that’s what caught him off guard and made her hit him hard a couple of times. That made Raul proud. Sure, he would loose the bet, but giving her a back massage, buying her food and seeing her happy after defeating him was priceless. 

He didn’t make it easy for her, he never would. He wanted her to be the best of the best, always. So he hit back, avoiding her head or going to strong, she had to be whole for the other day. But that didn’t stop him from trying to take her down, but she was quick, she wasn’t too strong, but her agility made up for it.

“Come on, we have an audience, we should put on a show”

Y/N shook her head, concentration never leaving her determined eyes “I’m not an actress to entertain a crowd, nor a clown like you, baby”

“Hey!” he sounded offended, grabbing her fist in his bigger hand “rude”

She just shrugged, pulling her hand back before going back into action and it couldn’t be even more exciting. The teasing, the meaningless banter and still great performance on the wrestle was enough to put an ease on Raul’s heart. She could do it. Of course she could, but now there would be less collateral damage. 

So when he felt her kick him to the ground, quickly pinning him to the rubber type material floor, immobilizing him in a way he wasn’t even able to move his arms if she didn’t let go. Y/N was sat on his stomach, face hovering centimeters above his, breath on frantic rhythm, as he panted on her face, feeling the slow pain crippling on his back and limbs where it collided with the floor. Raul couldn’t help but smile at the surprised and amused glint on her eyes as she was slowly processing she was able t take him down. The cheerful screams around them were only white noise as they stared at each other’s eyes, and he already felt like his heart was going to burst with pride and happiness, that until he heard the gleeful flightless leaving her lips as realization finally hit her, her forehead hitting his clavicle as she laughed, pure joy coursing through her veins.

He ended up laughing with her, his cheeks hurting from the smile stretched across his face. Y/N nuzzled her face on his neck still buzzing happily as she laughed. Raul turned his head lightly, only enough to press a kiss to her temple as she recovered her breathing. 

When she finally did, she untangled her legs from his, getting up from his torso and offering a hand at him, which he gladly took as he stood up, facing his colleagues as they still laughed and cheered at her. Celine climbed up to meet her with a quick, sharp, strong hug in congratulations before dragging her down with her. Jack was quick to pat Raul on the back as he chuckled, mumbling a ‘good luck with your girl, dude, she’s a badass and you’re gonna need it’. When he finally met her eyes again, he offered her his hand and Y/N automatically took it, letting him pull her closer until she was in his arms. 

“That was insane, doll, shit, you did so good” he said, arms loosely looped around her waist and she beamed proudly at him. 

“I did work hard for that” Y/N shrugged trying to play it coy but he was only able to chuckle.

Raul nodded “yeah, I noticed, and I’m so fucking proud of you for that, and many more reasons, but that?! You’re the fucking best, you know?” he praised and she felt her body heating up. 

“Actually” she said softly, looking down at his silver necklace “Celine’s the best, she showed me a few new tricks that I combined with the ones you taught me and the ones I already knew, so yeah”

“When did that even happen?” he didn’t try hiding his initial shock. They’ve been basically around each other 24/7, how did he not notice her training with someone else the past week?

“Well, to be fair you’re too cocky for your own good” Y/N had that pointed look in her eyes as she poked him on his broad chest “so I kinda asked her to show me how I could take you down and we’ve been doing it in secret, mostly when you went down to meet with Peter or to practice shooting”

“So it was a whole scheme just to try to embarrass me and knock me out?” he’s tone in a playful accusation as his brows shot up in evident disbelief.

“To sum it up, yeah, pretty much” she shrugged innocently as Raul threw his head back laughing.

“That's fucking awesome, you’re amazing” he said letting go of her waist, only to turn to face their team, dropping his arm around her shoulders “alright, guys, it was a hard week but I believe it paid off. We learned a lot with each other and I believe we’re a lot better now. This is still a fucked up mission, but I think we’re ready to face it and as long as we keep on working together and communicating well, we’ll be alright and coming back home as soon as possible, yeah? Think we should call it a day and test tonight”

“Okay, cap” Tom replied eagerly making Y/N chuckle before shaking her head. 

“So what do you say, cap?” Y/N asked teasingly as the others laughed.

Raul smiled down at her as he shook his head “Think we’re ready, doll”

                                                   -*-

*Please reblog or like this post if you liked it so I’ll know.

*I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.

*Please do not repost this without giving me the credit, this is a completely original piece and I do not give permission to copy this!

*Hope you guys enjoyed it!

*xoxo

-🌙

@mariamuses

[morkleemelon]

off the ice || chapter 3: steady now

previous || m.list || playlist || next

pairing: college hockey player! mark x college figure skater! reader

genre: fluff, humor, college au, sports au

word count: 6.9k

warnings: swearing, party with drugs and alcohol, scene of borderline harassment (nothing actually happens), financial struggle, insecurity, social anxiety, mention of injury

a/n: huge thank you to my beta readers @writing-frog​ and @skiimmiilk for helping me edit this! now I won’t have to tweak it a hundred times after posting XD also (not spoiling) I’m sorry I did you like this, sungchan :(

I’m not sure if I’m awake, dead, or dreaming, but somebody please take me out of this misery.

Your neck struggled to support your head as you fought to stay conscious on the locker room bench. It was early Saturday morning and team practice was far from over. Unwillingly, you had to stay up the previous night, studying deep into the AM because a certain boy kept distracting you in your head.

Over and over again, through your shift at the diner to the ride home to right here as you clung onto Yuna’s arm for support, Mark’s cute smile and Lisa’s daring accusations spun through your tired mind. It’s really not fair- a guy talks to you once and you’re already imagining things…

You quickly shake the thoughts from your head. 

  “Alright girls, thanks for coming in so early today,” your head skating coach, Tanya, smiled warmly, “captains, get everyone warmed up and I’ll go over some exciting announcements at the end of practice”.

“Thank you, Tanya,” the fatigued girls chorused half-heartedly as the captains ushered everyone out of the locker room and into the hallway for stretching. 

Reaching down to touch her toes, Yuna looks over to you. “Y/n, are you okay? You look worse than usual”.

The exhausted expression on your face said it all as you bent down to do the same. “I’ve got a lot on my mind. Econ test is coming up too”. You yawned into your words.

“I know you’re gonna say no, but if you wanna let loose a little, there’s a party tonight,” Yuna peers at you upside-down from in between her legs.

“You know I’m not a party person,” you decline, blacking out slightly as you stand back up. You blink to clear your vision.

As much as you admired your popular best friend for putting herself out there and being able to have fun at a party, it couldn’t be you. The drinking, the smoking, the groping, ogling men- not to mention the anxiety of existing in a frat house full of judgmental people, was all too much for you. As tempting as letting loose a little on a Saturday night sounded, you’d much rather do it in a way that involves your cozy pj’s and watching your favorite skating compilations on YouTube. Alone.

“I know, I know,” Yuna holds her hands up innocently, “but it could be fun. I know Mark is gonna be there”.

You whip your head around so fast that your ponytail nearly slaps her in the face. Flustered, you smooth down the nonexistent wrinkles on the front of your skating jacket. “Oh, that’s nice. What’s that got to do with me?”.

“Just letting you know,” Yuna shrugged in a ‘matter of fact’ manner. 

The captains led the team out to the rink to do laps. You weighed Yuna’s words for a minute as you skated across the ice. Naturally, being here where you were the most comfortable with yourself made you more susceptible to her convincing ploy. If you looked at the last few days in review, you had already made four new friends from just letting Yuna take the reins for one afternoon. That’s about one friend for every dollar in your bank account!

But the nagging reality was that Yuna had a massive amount of friends, cool friends, who were probably going to be at that very party while you had nobody but her and a guy you just met. This didn’t sit well with your anxieties. You’ll just end up awkward if Yuna wants to talk to someone else, or desperate if you cling to Mark, who would probably be weirded out.

As expected, it’s best to stay in.

The practice ran smoothly. As always, the hour and a half of spinning, falling, and getting back up resulted in soreness and loss of breath. Nonetheless, it recharged you and the cloud of tiredness in your head finally dissipated. You felt so free on the ice because you knew that you did it well. It isn’t about the money or your popularity or if you have to work part time just to afford the skates that you wear. If you put in the hard work and effort, you are rewarded with success; that’s a big part of what you liked about it. 

“Excellent job today, ladies. I’d like everyone to give a special round of applause to y/n today,” Coach Tanya suddenly singled you out as the team gathered around to hear her ending announcements. Tanya gave you a warm smile and gestured towards you as you bow to your clapping teammates. “For mastering the triple lutz. I can tell you’ve been practicing extra hours, both from the log sheet and from your performance today. At this rate, we may send you to nationals in the spring”.

Gasps echo across the cold, near-empty stadium. Your jaw hung open at Tanya’s ambitious plan and Yuna grabbed onto your arm excitedly, giving you a nudge of congratulations. It was extremely rare for a sophomore to be sent to the national competitions. Even some seniors never make it past the pre-auditions at Seoul University alone. You weren’t even dreaming of going within the next year despite all of your extra night-time practices. Looking at Tanya’s face, it didn’t seem like she was joking either.

“Thank you, Coach Tanya. I will work even harder”.

“That being said, I have some exciting news pertaining to all of you ladies: this year, Seoul University is sponsoring our team to hold a friendly competition for the winter festival as a sort of main event. Don’t be alarmed because it is optional. It’s September now, so if you are interested in participating, you will have just under four months to prepare a pair skate for the festival in December. Untraditionally, the audience will be voting to choose a winner instead of a panel. Furthermore, the theme, costumes, and music will all be up to you, so have fun with it! Oh and not to mention, the winning pair will be rewarded a monetary prize of $5,000 each”.

Shocked looks were exchanged between teammates. Your brain was still processing to make sure you heard Tanya right as she reiterated.

“Yes,” Tanya laughed, “you heard me right, girls, $5,000 each. It’s a tremendous opportunity and if not for the money, for a chance to practice performing in front of a crowd”.

Murmurs of excitement hush across the near-empty stadium.

“Yuna,” you look up to the taller girl and grip her arm with both hands, “Yuna please we gotta do this”. You shake her slightly with your pleading, “be my partner?”.

The blonde giggled, “duh, of course! Lisa and Hope will probably do it together since they’re both on JV so it’s perfect. Let’s get that ten grand for you!”.

“Wait no, but-”

“Y/n. You know I’m not about to argue with you about this,” Yuna sighed, looking up to the fluorescent ceiling lights to avoid your indignant stare. You relaxed your grip on her arm, knowing that you wouldn’t win this fight no matter how guilty you felt. “You’re better than me by a long shot. If anyone could bet on a winner, they’d put their money on you without a doubt. And if we win it’ll be because of you, so think of it as a fair split based on contribution. I’ll take a $20 cut to buy us dinner,” Yuna encouraged. 

You close your eyes and rest the side of your head on her shoulder.

That’s my best friend. I don’t deserve her.

You felt bad, but you knew that you needed this money more than anything right now. Your parents didn’t earn much and they were already burdened by this semester’s tuition, even with the scholarships. Picking up extra shifts at Frankie’s did little more than cover skating fees and rent. The heavy, looming fear of next semester being the one when you’d have to drop out often kept you up at night. It’s nobody’s fault, but that’s how it is.

Yet like a miracle angel sent from Heaven, this competition could cover an entire semester’s worth of tuition if you win. You needed the prize money desperately. You were going to have to win it no matter what.

“Bye!”. You waved to your teammates as they exited the locker room, probably to go out and be social on a Saturday afternoon. Unfortunately for you, your only plans were to sit alone at the library, studying.

“You seriously don’t wanna join us for lunch today?”. Yuna slung her skating bag over her shoulder. Her wet hair from just showering stuck to her face, but even like this she looked like she could be on the cover of a teen magazine.

“I’ll pass. I can grab a salad from the convenience store before I head to the library. Midterms are coming up and I gotta do a lot of review,” you explain, brushing a wide comb through your tangled mess of hair. Yuna moved to pull her hair back into a ponytail. You watched as her perfectly sculpted reflection made an action so simple into a reason for envy. The stained locker room mirror, however, did your bare face no favors. Your best friend remained oblivious as you picked yourself apart again. Your cheeks were a little too round, nose a little too wide, eyebrows a little too uneven. You shove the brush in your bag and turn around before you could fall deeper in insecurity. “Let’s go”.

As always, you chose to disregard your insecure thoughts and pretend like they never existed. Talking about it seemed weird, so you just chose not to do it. And you didn’t like bothering other people with your problems either. It was best to just keep it to yourself. 

“Y/n!,” a familiar voice called out from behind you. You stopped walking down the stadium corridor, turning around to see who could’ve known your name. Usually it’s Yuna getting stopped by one of her many friends.

Ashy blonde hair came into view as the boy jogged to catch up with you. Your legs were doing just fine after over an hour and a half of training, but they trembled at the sight of a certain dreamy junior boy.

“Hey, fancy seeing you here,” Mark smiled down at you, the dim hallway lights catching on his cheekbones and jawline, accentuating his beautifully sculpted features. 

“I’ll see you later,” Yuna winked, patting you on the back and making a break for the exit before you could protest.

“I-uh, hey, Mark,” you stutter. Was it just you or did he get even more good-looking since the last time you saw him?

“Did you guys just get out of practice?”. You could hardly pay attention to his simple question as you checked him out. Mark sported a simple outfit consisting of a plain black hoodie with matching black joggers and sneakers. His red hockey bag which was slung across his back was supported by one of his thumbs. With the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up to his elbows, you watch as the lines of his forearm muscles shift and strain with each fine movement from the weight of the duffel.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah! We did,” you answer after an awkward pause. Oh, God, please let that not have been weird. “Are you here for your practice?”. You mentally slap yourself for your stupid question; he’s wearing gym clothes and has his hockey gear, what else was he going to do at the rink?

“Yeah, I am,” Mark laughed good-naturedly, leaning slightly on the wall next to you, “I came here a bit early, actually. I was hoping to catch you”.

Catch...me?

Your face flushed at his heart-fluttering remark. Contesting with the urge to spontaneously burst into flames, you try your best to give a steady reply, “Oh! What for?”.

“I-uh,” Mark diverted his gaze down to his shoes, “I know I got your number from the group chat, but I wanted to ask you in person. There’s a party tonight at the sheep’s house- my friend’s house- and I was wondering if I was gonna see you there”.

You simultaneously wanted to sink into the floor to disappear forever and jump into the air to celebrate. You did neither. 

Was he asking you out? Not really. But then again, he wants to see you there at the party. And he came here early to specially ask you in person. 

You replay the debate you had with Yuna earlier. Past-you had made some valid points about not going, but how could you say no when he put it like this?… oh, fuck it.

“For sure. I’ll be there”. You offer a wry smile to try to cover your nervousness.

“Awesome,” Mark’s eyes twinkled as he smiled, “can’t wait to see you tonight, then”. 

“Can’t wait,” you echoed. You couldn’t help but notice how he was a few inches taller and you had to tilt your head back to meet his soft, brown eyes.

“I should probably get down to the rink to set up for practice”

“Oh okay! Don’t let me keep you”

“Not at all”. His fingers shifted to adjust the strap of his hockey bag and your eyes brushed over the ripple of his forearm. He was doing the bare-minimum and your knees were ready to buckle in the middle of the hallway. 

“I’ll get going then!,” you excuse yourself with a curt wave. Turning around, you head briskly for the exit before you could embarrass yourself further and agree to more irrational proposals. 

Before your hand could even touch the exit door to let yourself out, reality hit.

Oh no. I have to go to the party.

Yuna squealed and pounced you onto your bed as you told her the news. “I can’t believe it! You’re really gonna go?”.

You run a stressed hand through your wavy locks, “I guess? He didn’t leave me much of a choice”. Rolling around on your bed, your best friend clapped and cheered despite your wanting to travel back in time and tell Mark you couldn’t make it. But how were you supposed to say no to that face? Thanks to this, your library study session was far from focused or helpful.

“We gotta get you looking hot, y/n. I mean, you’re already hot,” Yuna corrected, “but even more hot for your first college party”.

Hopping off your now messed-up covers, you go to observe yourself in the full-body mirror in all your said ‘hotness’. You were currently enveloped in a grouchy oversized tee shirt that you got from a choir field trip in high school paired with plain gym shorts hidden underneath. Your hair was especially frizzy from being air-dried after your shower. 

“The only hot I am is a hot mess,” you groaned. Did you look like this when Mark saw you earlier? Shit.

“Nonsense, silly,” Yuna hugged you from behind, “you’re adorable and you’d be surprised how much hair, makeup, and a good fit can change someone”. She looked into your eyes eagerly through the mirror as if asking for permission. You were too nervous about the party to deny her so you gave your roommate a reluctant nod. It was better that she helped you get ready so you could fit in and thus blend into the background.

Squealing again, Yuna gave you a squeeze and scurried to flit through her closet for something you could wear. 

“Go straighten your hair, y/n!”

“Yes ma’am”. This much you could do. “How’s this?”. Yuna held up a skimpy bralette top, its white lace barely covering any surface area at all. 

“That’s a top?!”

“Ok nevermind”. Tossing the tiny piece aside, your roommate continued sifting earnestly through her collection of expensive clothes.

You ran the straightener through your partitioned hair carefully. 

“What about this one?”. Yuna held up a simple red crop top. A small notch ran an inch down the neckline which gave it a little edge, but it seemed like it would be in your comfort zone.

“That’s perfect,” you smile.

Hair now pin straight and finally smooth, you change into the red top and ripped black denim shorts Yuna picked out for you. Your best friend was much better at makeup than you were, so you let her take the lead once again. The only times you wear full makeup are for performances and you would look like a complete clown if you showed up with the two inch eyeliner you knew how to do. 

Applying a small amount of base makeup to your face, Yuna went for a more natural look, knowing that you weren’t comfortable with standing out too much. Subtle brown eyeshadow and lengthening mascara made your eyes pop just the right amount and a cherry lip balm tinted your lips a translucent, shiny red. Even you had to admit your confidence was boosted from the new look you weren’t used to seeing in the mirror. 

That’s me. I’m… kind of pretty

“Aw, honey, you look so beautiful,” Yuna cooed, wrapping up your makeover with a clap. She did her own makeup effortlessly and put on the discarded bralette from earlier. However ridiculous it looked on the hanger, she made it look like a million bucks and it suited her perfectly. 

You moved to sit on your bed and lace up your trusty white sneakers. Yuna wore a bigger shoe size than you which came as a relief because you weren’t sure if you could handle wearing any of the daring stiletto pumps in her collection. 

“You know, I’m so happy you’re going to come this time. I was always really sad when you stayed home studying every weekend instead of going out and having fun”.

“I would’ve gone if I knew how to talk to people,” you reason, picking at the dirty aglet of your shoelace, “and I’m honestly really nervous right now. You better not leave me, okay?”.

“You’re so sweet and thoughtful, anyone would be lucky to talk to you! I know it’s easier said than done, but you’d be surprised what a little confidence will do. And of course, I won’t leave you”. Yuna gave you a bright, reassuring smile before pulling you off the bed. 

You take one last look at your reflection in the mirror.

That’s right, confidence. I’m confident.

“Let’s go”

The walk down to the party was much shorter than you expected. Turns out, the ‘Sheep’ lived in that sketchy house just off of campus which you made a point to avoid during your nighttime jogs. The tables were turning as you approached the rickety front porch on purpose. You clung to Yuna as an array of neon lights shines through the window blinds and the open door. The bass of a generic pop song jolted through your bones. 

Walking into the home, your grip on Yuna’s arm tightened as unfamiliar faces surrounded you. The crowded room stank of sweaty bodies and weed. A countertop stocked full of red solo cups and different types of alcohol was visible from where you stood. Heads turned to stare at Yuna while the two of you entered.

What am I doing here?

“Hey, you made it!,” an unfamiliar voice shouted from over the ruckus. Your eyes fell nervously on the voice’s owner. He had dark brown hair and sharp, defined features. His accent was strange, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

“Hey!”. Yuna brought the stranger in for a loose hug. “Yangyang, this my roommate and best friend, y/n. Y/n this is Yangyang also known as ‘the sheep’. He’s from Germany”.

Ah, Germany.

You offer him a small wave, surprised when he pulls you unexpectedly into a hug. 

“Nice to meet you, y/n. Mark’s told me all about you,” Yangyang smirked, “please help yourself to drinks, girls. The guys are in the basement playing pong”.

“Woo! Let’s get wasted!” Yuna yelled while pulling you towards the drinks.

You stood awkwardly at her side as she poured both of you drinks- a half a solo cup of strawberry vodka for her and a sprite zero for you. You wish you could be in bed, curled up alone with a good movie. Or even at the library studying-

“Hey,” a deep voice right next to your ear wrecked your train of thought. Alarmed, your eyes were met with the middle of a chest as you turned around to see who it was. Craning your head back, an unfamiliar, tall boy with stiffly-gelled brown hair looked down at you. You winced at the acrid smell of axe body spray now flooding your nostrils. He looked young, maybe even younger than you, but he was clearly very drunk. “Where have you been all my life?”.

“Excuse me?,” you exclaim over the booming music. The boy placed his hands on the counter on either side of you, trapping you in between his arms. Looking over to find Yuna, she had already shifted deeper into the crowd and was busy talking with other people. 

“I’m Sungchan,” the boy unwelcomingly introduced, “what’s your name, beautiful?”.

“I-uh I’m y/n,” you stuttered. Sungchan’s face was way too close for comfort and his breath stank of cheap alcohol. You felt his humid exhalation brush over the top of your head like a toxic cloud and you fought to not gag.

“Y/n. You come here with anyone?”. You pressed your back as far into the counter as you could to get away from him, but there was little room to go. Fear began to set in as you realized you were trapped. What should I say? What do I do?

“I-I…” 

“She came here with me”. A firm hand gripped Sungchan’s left arm and yanked it forcefully away from the counter. Your saving grace put a gentle hand on your shoulder, tugging you slightly away from the drunk perpetrator. Struggling to comprehend what was happening, you looked up to see it was Mark, staring the intoxicated boy down. 

“C-captain”

“What’s a freshman doing with my girl?” Mark pressed. His expression was unamused. 

Your heart trembled at his unanticipated lie. His girl? Mark brushed a reassuring thumb over your shoulder, clueing to you that he would handle this. 

“I didn’t know, I-”

“Sungchan, right? You still trying to make varsity next year?,” Mark interrupted, eyebrows raised in annoyance at the freshman. Sungchan’s eyes went wide as he held both hands up innocently.

“Y-yes I-”

“Misconduct can get you kicked off the team, you know. Not to mention I’ll be senior captain next year so I’ll have a say in who makes it into varsity”.

“I’m sorry, captain, I really didn’t-”

“Fuck off”. Mark gestured his free hand towards the open front door. Sungchan looked around, as if unsure what to do. The surrounding party-goers danced and drank on, unaware of the altercation and more interested in who they were going home with tonight. Finally, the lanky boy’s head cleared enough to make a decision. Sungchan bowed slightly in apology and stumbled towards the exit. The untouched solo cup of sprite fizzed in your shaking hands.

“Are you okay?”. Mark faced you with a concerned look.

You clenched your grip tighter around your drink as you fought back tears, the shock wearing off and the gravity of the situation hitting you full-on. You set the cup down and shake your head no.

“Do you want to get out of here?”.

You nod your head vigorously and tears began streaming down your cheeks. What a waste, all of Yuna’s hard work down the drain. Mark nudged you forward and guided you towards a back door. Weaving your way through the crowd, Mark greeted his friends with a “hey” or a simple nod. You felt a few girls eye you discontentedly at the sight of Mark’s hand ghosting over the small of your back while others were too high or drunk to notice. The cool night air welcomed you as Mark urged you outside and you rushed to escape the cramped house. He shut the door behind him, muffling the heavy bass so you could finally hear yourself think.

Dabbing away at your tears so he wouldn’t see, you breathe deeply to regain your composure. 

“Thanks for that”. You managed to let out after a few minutes of sniffling and silence. Your voice was slightly hoarse and you couldn’t meet his eyes, but he waited patiently by your side. 

So much for coming to this party, he probably thinks I’m a mess. This whole thing was a huge mistake. 

“I think I’ll go. Sorry I can’t stay”. You turn to walk down the wooden porch steps.

“Wait-”. Mark’s voice halts your departure. “Would you like to go on a walk with me? Or I can at least take you home. I don’t want you going out alone after what just happened…”. 

Looking up at him, the dim porch light glowed behind him, giving him a soft golden halo. His brown eyes which were usually smiling now shone with worry as he scanned over your tear-stricken face. Your heart which was beating rapidly from fear earlier began to settle down in his reassuring presence. Being alone right now might not be the best idea. But more importantly, being with him sounded like what you really needed. You nod.

The sound of crickets chirping and sneakers scuffing took over as the two of you walked farther away from the booming music of the party. You weren’t sure where you were headed, but you also didn’t know if there was anywhere you wanted to go. Wandering down the deserted streets in comfortable silence, Mark followed you patiently as he waited for you to be ready to talk. Before you knew it, your feet brought you to the lake and you stood watching the water ripple under the night breeze. The moon, almost full, illuminated silver each ebb and flow.

“I’m sorry you’re missing the party”. You quietly broke the silence. You felt bad for making him leave. All of his friends were there and he probably really looked forward to it. 

“Don’t be. I only went so I could talk to you, anyways”

You look at him in surprise. Mark’s eyes remained glued to the lake, sparkling from the reflected moonlight.

“How many girls have you told that to?,” you scoff. Internally, you screamed.

“Couldn’t name another one”

You pause before resolving to stroll further down the lakeside. The sound of footsteps behind you confirmed that he was following. Stopping as you reach the familiar creaky wood, you take a seat on the worn-out dock, him on your right. You dangle your feet over the dark, sloshing waves. It was cool, despite the summer season. A breeze rolled by, making you shudder. However cute the crop top was, it didn’t do much to keep you warm. Not that you could have planned on running away from the party and needing a sweatshirt beforehand.

“Here, take this”. Mark unzipped his jacket to give to you.

“Oh it's ok-”. You couldn’t finish your protest before the warm fabric was draped across your shoulders. Your face grew pink once more. If you didn’t know better, you could be admitted to the hospital for how much you’ve been blushing recently. “Thanks,” you mutter, looking down at your hands with a small smile. 

“Is that Frankie’s?”. Mark’s voice cut through the silence.

“What?”

“Is that Frankie’s?,” Mark repeated, nodding at the small restaurant bordering the lake some distance away. It looked as if it had just closed, yellow fluorescent lights still on while a tired waitress scrubbed away at a table. Only one car, probably her’s, remained in the parking lot.

“Oh, yeah. That’s where I work part time,” you confirmed. “I come here to the dock to sit sometimes. You know, just to think”.

“I feel that. Sometimes everything is way too much to handle and you need to take time to breathe. I have a place like this too”

Mark’s sincere confession came as a surprise to you and unintentionally, it showed on your face.

“What, you don’t believe me?” Mark feigned hurt, putting a hand on his chest. “Do you think hockey guys can’t have feelings too? I have a fan club for heaven’s sake!”.

You laugh at his exaggerated outcry. 

“And that’s a bad thing? Don’t you guys like the attention? Attention from lots and lots of pretty girls”. You raised an eyebrow, teasing him.

“As if,” Mark ran a stressed hand through his hair, “they’re all crazy as hell. Honestly, none of the guys really like the attention”.

You nod in understanding. Seeing how the Lovelees acted the few times you were around them, you’d hate being the subject of their affections too.

“But how about you,” Mark continued, “I haven’t seen you much at parties”.

You let out a sarcastic laugh, “if you couldn’t tell from tonight, I’m not much of a party girl. Today was my first and probably last party”. You had gotten so comfortable walking and talking with Mark that you had almost forgotten about the horrible incident that occurred earlier. Pulling the soft jacket over yourself more, your face falls as you remember Sungchan’s intoxicated face.

“Hey” Mark’s hand grazes over your slumped shoulders, bringing you back to focus on him. “I’ll never let him bother you again”. 

While you were unsure of how your makeup was holding up due to all the crying, his delicate features were all the more beautiful under the pale moonlight. You notice how close you’re sitting, knees almost brushing against each other’s and his face was but inches from yours. And even though you were wearing his jacket so he was left with only a tee shirt, you were sure you weren’t imagining the heat radiating from his body. Slowly, your eyes flutter down to his parted lips.

There it is once more, the hot flush in your cheeks and the strain in your chest. 

Meeting Mark has been a rollercoaster of emotions, but you felt undeniably comfortable sitting next to someone who would’ve been a stranger just a few days ago. Something about him felt familiar to you now and you trusted in his words. He was someone... safe. 

“Really?,” you whisper, not taking your eyes off of his soft, pink lips. 

“Really”. His confirmation was too gentle to be heard above the sound of the rushing water below, but you read his lips as they shaped around the word.

Before you know it, you were leaning in, just enough so you knew you weren’t imagining it. A mellow breeze plays with your hair, causing a few strands to fall astray. Cautiously with his hand, Mark slowly tucks the fallen pieces back behind your ear. He hesitates there. The feeling of his warm fingertips sends tingles down your spine. Carefully scanning your expression to make sure you were okay, his hand inches down to gently cup your cheek. “Can I kiss you?”.

You could feel the warmth of his breath fan across your lips, his own not centimeters away. Your heart pounded rapidly as you gave an affirming nod. Closing your eyes, you wait.

This is happening.

A jolting vibration from your pocket caused your eyes to shoot right back open and Mark let go of you in surprise. Your phone kept buzzing, the harsh sound amplified by the wooden dock. Sighing in frustration, you struggle to remove it from your back pocket as Mark looks away, coughing awkwardly. Your face burned red from embarrassment.

Why does this always happen to me?

“Hello?”. Your tone was laced with annoyance.

“Y/n! Where aare youu?,” Yuna slurred. Trap music blared in the background confirming that she was still at the party. You could hear Ten asking if Mark was with you over the ruckus.

“I left. And yeah, Mark is here”. You put the phone on speaker and held it up towards the boy you were about to kiss moments ago. 

“Hey guys,” Mark said sheepishly. Yuna squealed in delight.

“That’s my boy!”. Ten’s booming voice took over the call.

“Stop it man,” Mark warned, increasingly agitated at the couple for ruining the moment.

“Okayy kids! Have fun, but not tooooo much fun”. Yuna giggled into the microphone. 

“I’m hanging up,” you said quickly before pushing the red button to end the call. Any longer and you weren’t sure you could resist throwing your phone (and perhaps yourself) into the lake. A brief moment of silence ensued, both parties unsure of what to do next. Was there anything you could do to save the moment after that? 

“I uh…,” you start.

“Yeah umm…,” Mark agreed. Silence ensued.

“Uhh…”. Your steady tone wavered as you started to giggle. The awkwardness dissipated because before you knew it, both of you were laughing wholeheartedly at the unfortunate situation. 

“Yuna tends to have great timing,” you explain.

“Mm. Ten does too,” Mark related, stroking his chin and nodding as if thinking deeply. 

“She said she wouldn’t leave me at the party but lo and behold”. You gesture to your surroundings, exasperated.

“That sucks,” Mark agreed, “you should have come found me. I was waiting for you, actually”.

“I was going to,” you picked at the zipper of his jacket, “but we had just gotten there when... you know”.

“Yeah. You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready. I don’t want to pressure you at all, but I’m always willing to listen”

“You’re,” you look for the right words, “you’re so amazing”. 

“Yeah?”

You keep your gaze in your lap, “Yeah. And you know, I wish we’d met earlier, Mark. Because it’s really nice talking to you and you’re a really great guy”. You check for his reaction.

“Yeah, I wish we met sooner too”. His expression was that of… adoration.

Being with Mark was so easy. Conversation came to you two easier than anything else in life did. And just like that, feet swinging in sync above the water, you talked for hours. He told you about his alien conspiracy theories and his aspirations to be a professional hockey player and then retire into sports medicine. You told him about your parents and how you missed them dearly because they worked way out of the city to support you and your dream. You did everything you could to be able to pay them back, even majoring in economics which was more profitable than environmental studies or professional skating. Mark listened thoughtfully and admitted that he related in a lot of ways with his parents being all the way in Canada. 

The night rushed by and the two of you talked until the golden peaks of sunrise painted the water from its usual blue. You had shifted so you were sitting facing each other on the dock. The early sunlight cast a warm glow over Mark’s face. He looked like a painting- a Monet. Or a Renoir.

“Um so, I guess it’s Sunday now”. Mark rested his chin into the crook of his elbow. You could hear the tired in his voice, but you mutually understood that neither of you wanted to leave.

“Do you have to go?”. You picked at a piece of fuzz on the sleeve of his sweatshirt which you were still wearing. The disappointment was evident in your question. Even though you had spent the whole night getting to know each other, it felt like you had just barely scratched the surface. There was still so much more you wanted to talk about. 

Checking his watch, Mark contemplated for a bit. 

“It’s 6:12 a.m. right now. I actually have to get somewhere by 6:30,” Mark explained.

“So early?”

“Yeah it’s… you could come with me if you want?”. His sleepy eyes twinge with hope.

You look to the lake, the sparkling ripples tinted gold with the rising sun. Sunday was usually a rest day for you and you didn’t have anything planned. As fatigued as you felt, everything in you wanted to accept his invitation. You cracked a small smile, getting up to stretch your legs. You hold out a hand to help him up.

“Lead the way”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you home? This might not be fun for you…”

Mark’s expression was worried as the two of you stood at the entrance of the local church, the doors open and you could see rows of tables and food set up as if ready for people at any minute. The streets were starting to bustle as the world began to wake up. A volunteer from inside the church spotted you, walking out to give his greetings. 

“Mark!,” the man called out as he pulled Mark  in for a warm hug, “good morning!”.

His eyes turned towards you and Mark moved to introduce you. 

“Daniel, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Daniel. We volunteer together here at the church to serve breakfast to the homeless,” Mark disclosed.

“Nice to meet you, Daniel”. You shake his hand with a smile. Gosh, I probably look like a mess right now. I didn’t even get to change or take off the makeup from the party yesterday. You self-consciously zip up Mark’s oversized jacket to hide your exposed midriff. 

“Nice to meet you, y/n! This is the first time Mark has brought a… friend here”. Daniel’s eyes darted between you and Mark with an assuming smile.

“Yeah,” Mark coughed, turning to you, “do you want me to take you home? This probably isn’t what you expected I don’t know why I-”

“No,” you interrupted, “I’d like to stay and volunteer”. Offering him a reassuring smile, you rest your hand on his arm to show him that you were okay. There was truth to his worries when Mark said this wasn’t what you were expecting. You never would have thought that a popular guy like him woke up early on the weekends to help the needy. Evidently, he did it out of the kindness of his own heart, not for attention. You always imagined it was all parties and messing around, but you were pleasantly proven wrong.

“Great! Mark can show you around and get you started,” the older man clapped before heading inside.

“You’re kind of awesome, you know that?”. Mark’s question caught you off guard. He slipped his hand into yours to lead you into the building, the simple action sending your heart into a frenzy. 

“Awesome how?”

“Just… awesome,” Mark clarified cryptically, holding the door open for you to enter the storage room. He tosses you a green volunteer shirt.

“Alright, I’ll take the compliment,” you laugh, taking off his jacket and handing it to him. To your surprise, he pushes it back to you.

“You keep it. I like it a lot better on you”

Mark Lee if you keep saying things like this, I’m going to catch on fire.

You fight to put out the flames spreading across your cheeks and give a single nod, setting the sweatshirt down on a nearby box. Not willing to strip in front of him in the church storage room, you pull the volunteer shirt over on top of the shirt you were already wearing.

“So anyways,” Mark continued as if he didn’t just say the most romantic thing you’ve heard in your life, “the people will start coming in about 20 minutes. Our job is to portion out the food and once everyone is served, we can go eat and talk with them”.

“Got it”

“Here, let me get this for you”. His hand guided your waist to spin around as he pulled an apron over your head. Tying the back of the garment together, your breath hitches in your throat as you feel his fingers brush under the fabric of your shirt. You turn your face to the side and you can see his soft expression in your peripheral vision. The heat from his body behind yours feels so welcoming.

I wish he’d kiss me right now.

And he wants to. He tries to. He’s leaning in and everything is perfect. Your heart is beating fast as you tilt your head back, but like clockwork, a jolting buzz from his pants makes you jump apart. No, not like that.

“I swear to God, I’m throwing away my phone”. Mark ran a frustrated hand through his hair, picking up the kiss-blocking call. “Hello?”. You sighed.

You watch as the annoyed expression on his face fades into shock as the speaker on the other side panicked through the phone. Your own frustration transforms into concern as Mark looks at you and you catch the words “car” and “hospital”. Mark paces back and forth.

“Alright, I got it. Yeah, she’s with me. I’ll tell her. We’ll come right now. Don’t worry, Ten, she’s going to be fine”

“What is it?,” you ask as soon as he hangs up the call, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and worry.

“It’s Yuna…,” Mark trailed off, shocked by the news. Your heart dropped down to your feet.

“What about Yuna?” Your voice shook with panic.

“She-she was in a car accident. She’s at the hospital right now”

previous || m.list || playlist || next

[diary-of-an-onliner]

feet on the ground [f.w.]

word count: 3381

warnings: none

a/n: this is based on, and a counterpart/continuation of @ickle-ronniekins 's head in the clouds — thanks for the inspo babe, this one is for you

Fred Weasley was not happy. Sure, he had made a lot of questionable, or as other people like to say 'bad', decisions in his life, but taking Care of Magical Creatures was one of the worst. Yes, it made Hagrid ecstatic, and that's always a good thing to see; yes, it's useful for his future business. However a hellfire-cracken the size of a shoebox was making him rethink his choices.

For the lack of a better distraction, he focused on digging a hole in the grass with his trainer as Hagrid’s rumbled instructiones flew over his head, missing both ears and zooming away into an indifferent oblivion. George is taking this already, he looked to George, who was quite enchanted with his partner, and thoroughly enjoying it, couldn't we have split up? He kicked the dirt lightly, startling the girl next to him.

Neither Fred nor his Slytherin partner were thrilled with each other,but misery loves company, so it might be for the best.

"How's the weather up there?" said his partner, who was crouching eye — er, shell-level, with the creature, but keeping her distance nonetheless. Her hair waved and flickered on her shoulder as she bounced on her heels.

"Immaculate, thanks for asking." he said, not wanting to get closer to the scorpion-lobster lovechild from the asshole of hell. "Y'know Hagrid said those things burn, bite, and sting, right?"

"So do I.” she said sarcastically, still keeping her gaze tied to the monster. “I'm not going to touch it, I'm just looking. You're aware we need to sketch it, label its parts and write an essay about it later?" Fred shifted his weight from foot to foot restlessly.

"Yes." his nostrils flared.

She pursed her lips and, after a moment of silence, said: "I dare you to touch it."

He crossed his arms. "I am not taking dares from you. We met three minutes ago and I haven't enjoyed a second of it."

"What's up your ass?" she turned to him, still crouching. "Actually, I don't care. Just don't take it out on me." The creature clicked their — tail? — pincers? — their something.

"I wasn't—" she raised an eyebrow and he fell silent, and looked away.

"'m not very thrilled to be here." he mumbled. "And that ugly death trap isn't making it better. Can we start over?" he asked, sighing and tiredly sweeping his left hand through his hair, and offering his right to her.

She took it and pulled herself up, then promptly smoothed out her skirt, shook his still proffered hand, and introduced herself.

Unlike his messy untucked shirt, her uniform was pressed down to the socks and her shoes held no traces of mud. It gave her a calculating, and slightly cold aura, as if she was drawn with a set of rulers and a compass. She was probably more geometrical than anyone who had ever taken Care of Magical Creatures.

"Fred." he said, even though she knew.

"Well Fred, we will be working together on this Blast-Ended Skrewt for the next few weeks, so that 'ugly death trap’ is our son you're talking about." she chided with a smile that better belonged on a sly fox rather than a girl.

"You sound very attached to it." he shot back. An idea, a thought, a silver of a notion that this might be fun slithered along the floor of his skull.

"Him.” She corrected with her pointer finger in the air. “And it's called being a good parent." she lightly jabbed him in the chest.

"Okay then. Go pet your son." Fred smirked.

They turned toward the beast which was playing in the grass like a puppy. It seemed to be wiggling its tails.

Her eyes narrowed: "Which part is the head?"

"I don't know. We should probably figure it out, since the other side shoots flames." he said in an amused tone.

"It's supposed to be a sucker, so it might be the penis-looking side." he chuckled, but when she turned to stare at him expectantly, his red eyebrow jumped in question. A breeze ruffled their hair.

"Go on then, don't be shy, we need to compare." she said flatly.

He burst out laughing so hard, a few people around them turned to stare - quite a dangerous thing to do at the moment seeing as some of the beasts started snipping. A yelp sounded from afar, and Fred laughed even harder.

At least his partner is funny.

"Seriously though, this thing is going to fire-fart on us soon and we need to figure it out."

“You don’t feel better in nature?” her tone piqued as she turned the pages of a book. Their desk was covered with them, during the first of their many study meetings.

“No.” Fred played with his quill, spinning it through his fingers. “You do?”

“I feel clearer, especially near water.”, thump, she shut her book and discarded it.

“How come?” he balanced on the back legs of his chair, eyes darting around.

“I don’t know. It’s not a thing I question.”, flip, flip, flip, “It just lures me out of my head, and makes me feel a little more real, like I’m aware of my own existence. Sharper, yknow?”

Fred shook his head.

“I don’t have a need to get out of my head, it’s great in there.” he joked. She snorted and passed him a book with a piece of paper sticking out.

“Don’t you? You seem to be in there a lot though. I think you think too much.” Fred chukled, “That’s something I've never been told.”

“Then it’s about time.” she threw his way, but she had yet to look at him, Fred noted. The idea of her as geometrical played around in his head. “Try it next time. People exist a little sharper sometimes. It stops you from feeling like you’re going to float away.” her eyes finally flickered to him like two needles of her compasses, and shot him down. His chair hit the ground.

Before Fred had a chance to say something else or roll her idea around in his brain, she passed him a piece of parchment with a soft order to, “Write.”

His diagram of their unnamed child was much neater than hers, but his illegible handwriting distracted from it perfectly.

"That is not a t."she said, her hair almost electrified from stress-combing it with her hands.

"It's obviously a g." he chirped, but his tone sounded worn down all the same. She squinted at the paper with her mouth open for a moment, then gave up.

"How are you still this peppy?" she asked as her gaze lazily rolled itself away from the books. His tie was completely undone and being used as a bookmark, his shirt unbuttoned and ruffled like his hair, ha, carrot head!, but he took no note of it as he balanced on the back legs of his chair again. Every so often, a clank would sound amid their conversation when the chair struck against the stone floor and his feet hit the ground, before he leaned back again.

"What are you talking about? I'm knackered." he yawned.

She looked up, and her thoughts leaked out of her head. The scenery through the window behind him was gorgeous, lit on fire by the dusk— oversaturated reds and pinks which lined the dark purple clouds.

With a loud tap on the library floor, the front legs of Fred's chair touched the ground and his head covered the sun perfectly, giving him a golden lining and making his orange hair melt into the background. The clear lines of his face looked almost chiseled in contrast to the haziness behind him.

A weight settled in the center of her torso, an iron bowling ball rolling between her stomach and her heart. He was handsome. She knew this. But she used to know it the way one knows they should drink water when they’re thirsty. Knowing you needed it after you drink him in, swallow, and sign, is another story.

She felt a warm metal line grow out of her chest, like a vine towards the sunlight, enter his chest and settle.

For a few moments she imagined it. She tried to note the dragging sensation of warm iron and let herself be pulled to him. She imagined the ball rolling in his center, and all his squirming being in an attempt to adjust it instead of just staying awake.

Then she blinked. Took in the real scene. Despite being exhausted, she felt tranquil in their little corner filled with books and a few very ugly sketches. She picked one up.

“Are we allowed to call his head a dick?” She questioned, but Fred just yawned and shrugged. His chair tipped back again.

“You’ll hurt yourself.” She said flatly, words moving from line to line like trains with the shittiest track designs ever.

“The thrill keeps me awake.” he closed his eyes, hair still a burning red. She didn’t dare look at the Sun for too long. Her eyes tried to follow the words. The ball rolled.

He slid another sketch towards her. “I think we should use this one.”

She put the first one aside, their hands brushing as she took the new parchment. She heard the scraping of his chair on the floor as he moved closer until his collarbone pressed against her shoulder as he leaned over to point. The body heat he was emitting only reminded her of the weariness her body carried. It also refashioned her bowling ball into an anchor slowly sinking through her stomach, tickling her insides on the way down.

The sketch was neater and much simpler than others, no more than a handful of black lines on a yellowing parchment.

“This part is the head.” Fred pointed out. “I think. It looks weird and there isn’t exactly a good reference for a randomly cross-bred demon.” He seemed so focused on his drawing that she got the feeling he was avoiding her eyes intentionally. Stupid, really. They’re both just tired and have a lot of work.

Look at me.

He didn’t.

She banished all her stupid silly thoughts, and tried to turn to the books for the next few hours.

Fred stayed circling warmly on the edge of her orbit, moving around her but never looking, never acknowledging her as anything other than a voice and a pair of friendly working hands. The silly stupid thread she felt earlier vibrated. She didn't bring it up for fear they wouldn't finish all their work if she were to derail the conversation, so she waited until the end of their study session.

However, when the anticipated end neared, his chair hit the stone the last time and when she turned to him, Fred was lying on his arms on the table, asleep. His outline was as bright and as sharp as ever, but his face was soft and smooth from relaxation, like a marble statue melting. The anchor in her stomach lurch up at the sight, but she swallowed it down, smiled, and laid her head on the table too.

Another sunny afternoon had George almost skipping to his quirky partner. And Fred was glad, he liked to see his brother happy and loved teasing him for being in love even more — but he still hated the bloody beasts. He was thankful for George's efforts to cheer him up, but Fred refused to move out from under his personal gloomy cloud, choosing to carry it alone instead, the way one would an umbrella.

As soon as George mentions his partner, he knows it's time to leave him to his beloved, as he does, with minimal mocking involved (—but come on!).

As Fred approached her, he saw her roll her eyes. Funny. Something about knowing she's as un-excited as he is made his chest swell up with what can only be described as the sudden understanding of the real depth of companionship between you and a stranger, an acquaintance, a friend. I might not like this, but I am not alone.

"They're four feet long already. Your future sister-in-law," said his partner, gesturing to George's love with her head, at which Fred smiled warmly, "said we only get to work with them for another class. I think she might cry." His clouds stopped thundering.

"Don't be rude." he replied but did not sound angry in the least.

"I'm not. She's a nice girl and God bless her for being passionate about this. We need people like her, otherwise the rest of us would have to care as well." she reasoned.

"There's that warm and welcoming Slytherin care I've heard all about." he said sarcastically.

"Rude. Gingers truly are soulless." Fred got nudged in the ribs.

"Oi!"

"Oi yourself!" she flipped her hair and flashed her foxy smile. No, it's fox-like. "Don't start things you can't finish."

"Well, I'm ready to be done with this thing." he looked pointedly at the snapping creature reaching out to them like a baby in a cot.

They received their instructions from Hagrid to feed, entertain, and check the health of the creature and set off to work. After a few minutes of silence, Fred spoke.

"I think there's something wrong with this thing." he squinted.

"Him." She corrected, "He's our son."

"Well I think our son is pregnant." Fred’s face soured.

“No way." she replied, kneeling closer to the beast than she'd ever dared before. "How do you know?"

"A hunch?" Fred shrugged his very nicely shaped shoulders. No! "I'm not sure. It did eat three times as much as the others. It should be a lot fatter."

"He." She absent-mindedly corrected, trying to get a good enough look.

"He doesn't look sick but he's being weird." he squatted next to her, bouncing on his heels.

"Maybe he's lonely. We both ditched a few times." She bumped her knee into his. "I dare you to touch him."

Fred laughed as he turned to her. "I'm not that commited of a father. You do it."

"Why me? You need to do something too!" she whined as their son approached in a rather puppy-like gait, as if he was going to rub against their legs, and Fred's gaze slipped off her, like that day in the library.

"I'll do whatever you want.” he paused "Within reason, of course."

"Touch him."

"Within reason."

"Fine." their dark-shelled son stood before them now, but they were not as hesitant this time. The beast looked at Fred with either his head or his stinger (how is it still not clear?).

Slowly and shakily, her hand reached out. She almost withdrew it, but it already made contact with their son's back and he made a sound similar to purring, which was both surprising and unsettling. Her face bent in disgust as her entire palm pressed against his black shell, gleaming maroon in the sunlight.

"Ew. He's slimy." she detached her hand to see a catran-like substance coating it. "How is he slimy?"

Fred's nose was scrunched as well but an amused gleam flickered on his face nonetheless. “Disgusting.”

"Well, I did it." she complained, trying to wipe her hand on his arm, but he rose to his feet quickly, laughing.

“Keep that to yourself.” Fred warned, trying to avoid her swift attempts to use him as a rag.

“Come on!” She whined. “We’re in this together. If I have to be gross then so do you.” she jumped up after Fred.

He felt weightless as he maneuvered around her and the clawing beast that still purred by their feet, and he realized how warm the sunlight was. His little cloud was gone. In that distracted second of their impromptu three-creature quickstep, she wrapped her clean hand around his hand and pulled herself closer to him.

She grinned from ear to ear, and Fred felt her wet, cold hand sliding down his shoulder. She wiped a few times down his arm and chest with a wickedly satisfied look in her face as he wondered why he didn’t mind it so much. His eyes danced over her face the way his trainers had over the grass mere seconds ago.

“What?” she asked. Wait, she was speaking.

“Um, nothing.” his face rearranged itself from a goofy smile (What?) and he looked at his stained shirt. Before he even had time to comment, her voice made the center of his stomach tighten.

“Do you think he'd lick one if she asked?” Fred followed her gaze to George, looking as dreamy as his partner who was purring back at their Blast-Ended Skrewt. Sunlight covered them too.

Her hand still held onto him.

Fred sighed, both amused and lightheaded from a new discovery threatening to unveil its face in his mind. George laughed so loudly it reached Fred’s ears, and he responded, “Yes.”

“Would you lick one for me?” she batted her eyelashes.

“Absolutely not.” he said without missing a beat.

“What kind of a father won't even lick his own son?” she put a hand on her chest, faux-horrified.

“I still think our son is pregnant.” he said, grinning at her.

“What kind of a father won't lick his own pregnant son?” she humored.

“You're making this worse than it has to be.”

Her eyebrow rose as she offered: “You can always do this alone?”

“No.” something ugly and covered in spikes spun in Fred's stomach.

“Well then,” she said smugly, as if she knew, “you need to start cooperating.” She tugged on his arm with her hand that was there the whole time. Her arm slid around his as she pulled him along, and Fred adjusted his collar with his fingers. When did they get so far away from the group?

“You don’t pet him, you don’t groom him with your tongue like a cat, what do you do? I haven’t seen you change a single diaper!” she over-exaggerated. “I’m basically a single mother!”

He laughed and apologized, feeling lighter and sharper than he had all day.

His future sister-in-law was wrong. They worked on their loving, puppy-like hell scorpions for three more classes, and had another one in a classroom, correcting their essays. During that class, they found out that their son really was pregnant, at which they laughed all the way to the Great Hall.

Fred felt something heavy rolling over his intestines when he thought of the end. It wound itself around his organs until his lips dropped. Nevertheless, he grinned at George (who definitely saw through him), and, with his chin up like a proud lion, departed from him to sit next to his partner, one last time.

He thought about her more often than he expected to, and he feared he might have to stop soon.

As he slid next to her, his metaphorical tail curled closer to him. She beamed brightly at him, and offered her closed fist.

“You ready, partner?”

No, he curled his fingers with a smile, I don’t think I am, and bumped their hands together.

“Doesn’t have to end? Didn't you listen?” she asked him incredulously as he caught up with her. He couldn’t say he has, as his ears buzzed deafeningly loudly since they received their O.

Maybe she had a point when she said there were moments when people felt more defined as he was more sure than ever that he existed in the corridor leading to the Care of Magical Creatures classroom, as his limbs filled with lead at the way she spoke.

“I just thought if you—” his mouth shit on its own. “You know—”

“Holy shit, you really didn’t listen?” but this time she laughed. “Hagrid said we can pick our own partners for the next project.” Her arm curled around his own, “So unless you want to dump me, we march on.”

Whatever heavy thing has been making his stomach a winter home the past week flew off to their summer residence.

She definitely had a point about grounded moments, because when her hand squeezed his arm, the lead leaked out and the awareness of every part of his body slammed into focus.

And Fred smiled back.

She smiled promisingly at him, his heart stuttered, and his sneakers sunk into the stone beneath him.

[newtonsheffield]

Hi!! I just wanted to tell you how much I do love your stories and how much I am really into them! I even have pop-up notifications in here and Ao3 to know when you share with us more about Bridgerton and Sons - which seems kinda a stalker, now I think of it... but it's not like that! 😅🤦‍♀️

The thing is, I'm a very musical person; whenever I read or do some computer-required work, or basically anything in my life tbh, music is always present. For instance, I'm re-reading again (can't they just, magically, give us Season 2 already? 🤣) TVWLM and for Anthony and Kate's Wedding night, I cannot help but "listen to" 'Experience', by Ludovico Einaudi; and when reading/imagining the wedding in the Bridgerton and Sons Universe, Anthony and Kate are dancing to 'You & I', by Crystal Fighters (which is so refreshing, good vibes and just PERFECT).

If it's not too much to ask, which kind of music do Kate and Anthony listen to? Which is their favourite genre; would it surprise us all? I don't know why I picture Anthony completely flabbergasted to Kate's musical tastes. 🤣

Thank you in advance and thank YOU for giving us content and such a beautiful story when we're waiting for the season to come. 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

PD.: thank you for not making Penelope be Lady Whistledown in Bridgerton and Sons. Despite I liked that plot in the books, I just cannot imagine in here Penelope saying nasty things about people we know she loves a lot.

Hi! 

(This got a little longer so I’ve put a cut in)

I’m so glad you’re enjoying Bridgerton and sons!  And perhaps it’s ridiculous, but I’m terribly flattered you have notifications turned on for both Ao3 AND this black hole of a tumblr account (makes me very curious how many other’s also have notifications turned on!) Anyway, no, I don’t think you’re stalking me, that’s why the notification system exists! 

I will own to also being a slightly musically inclined person: Fun fact about me, I’m a classically trained saxophonist! And (and this is really going to tell you all JUST how cool a person I truly am) Guys, I was the captain of my High School Jazz band  😂😂I can play guitar, ukulele and Piano to varying degrees of proficiency but I would never in a million years play any of those three instruments in front of another human being! That being said my own taste in music is cripplingly basic as anyone who has dared look at the Bridgerton and Sons playlist on spotify can attest too. It has often been joked by my friends that I cannot start a playlist without putting Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors album on and Shania Twain’s Come on Over album.  But! I love Ludovico Einaudi! His work is always so beautiful and tbh whenever I listen to it I get a little choked up!  and I hadn’t heard You & I before but I can definitely see them dancing to it at their wedding, just being sickeningly in love and happy. We love to see it. 

Also, when I first started writing Insufferable Penelope probably was going to be the writer but... the longer it went on and the crueler the things said got, I decided it just wasn’t right. This isn’t a Gossip Girl situation fam. 

Okay! Kate and Anthony’s favourite Music! 

Kate was a young girl in the mid-late 90′s so unfortunately I think we know what this means: Kate knows the entirety of the Spiceworld album by heart. She could probably do it backwards. She would never admit it to Anthony but she had a Justin Timberlake poster on her wall for a very long time. Anthony does not have the heart to tell her that he knows she love NSYNC because Edwina has showed him a video of their perfectly choreographed routine to Bye Bye Bye. She’s also quite partial to the 80′s rock that played heavily in her house growing up. And Anthony is very surprised to find a Def Leppard shirt amongst her laundry one day. While Anthony may not be partial to Kate’s music, he does think it’s very adorable when she sings along in her endearingly tone deaf way, and so more often than not when they’re cooking together in the kitchen, they’re playing her music.  

Anthony is a soft rock/indy kind of guy. He’s constantly bringing up bands that Kate has never even heard of. She gets tugged along to concert after concert of music that all sounds exactly the same to her but she really doesn’t care because Anthony is there, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, singing softly in her ear, a huge smile on his face. And he looks so happy, and young, and carefree that her heart nearly bursts for him. 

There is one time when Kate finally recognises a song on Anthony’s playlist about 4 months into their relationship and she squeals a little with delight and amusement when it starts. “Hyacinth is getting awfully good at sneaking songs onto your playlist.” She says, smirking as she starts to hum along, but she can’t help but notice that Anthony hasn’t done anything, didn’t make a disgusted noise, his hand hasn’t even moved from hers to try and change the song, and then she notices his ears going a little red.  “Oh my god!” she says laughing brightly “You, Mr. Music is artistry Katie put this song on here didn’t you?!” And Anthony tuts and puffs his chest a little which only makes her heart burst more for him when he says, more than a little primly  “It reminds me of you.”  And god help her, as soon as they get home Kate takes it upon herself to show him that yes God is a woman      

[elyvorg]

So… I was talking about aspec V3 headcanons? Well then, let me lay down the facts.

Maki Harukawa is on the aromantic spectrum. Yes, even though she explicitly develops a crush on Kaito, and no, I’m not trying to dispute that part.

This is basically canon. Let me tell you why.

Maki is aro

For this, we need to consider the conversation Maki has with Shuichi in the first training session in chapter 4, while Kaito has temporarily disappeared to the bathroom. On one level, this conversation exists to be the only actual meaningful indication* that Maki has romantic feelings for Kaito until she goes and confesses them. Someone like Maki wouldn’t care about asking Shuichi if he “liked” Kaede (in that annoying loaded meaning of the word “like” that specifically refers to romantic attraction) unless she was trying to come to terms with the idea that she also “likes” someone else in the same way, and the only plausible candidate for that is Kaito.

But even more striking about this conversation, far more so than the general implication that Maki would only bother asking this if she happened to be crushing on a certain spiky-haired space dork, is the way Maki approaches and thinks about this whole topic in general. Take a look:

Maki:  “Well… I assumed you didn’t, because that would be weird. […] Liking someone you just met… especially in a situation like this…”

Shuichi:  “… Then tell me… under what circumstances is liking someone *not* weird?”

Maki:  “…Huh? I… don’t know. I don’t… really understand what that is.”

I, as an aromantic person myself, fully agree with Maki that it just seems weird to start romantically liking someone you’ve only just met, especially in a life-or-death situation where surely there’s way more important things to be focusing on. But apparently, most people do not find this thought weird at all – love at first sight is supposedly a real thing that can happen, and something something dangerous situations can bring out more hormones and passion???? sounds fake but okay – and so opinions like mine and Maki’s here are very much outliers.

And not only that, not only does the thought of crushing on near-strangers bewilder Maki to the point of disbelief, but she also can’t even come up with an answer to when crushing on someone would ever not be strange and bizarre. Like the whole concept is just alien to her. She can barely even wrap her head around how “liking” someone in that way even works. The very reason she’s even asking Shuichi about this is because she doesn’t understand why she’s feeling this way about Kaito.

This is how an aromantic person would view this kind of thing. It doesn’t sound even slightly like something an alloromantic person would say in this situation. That’s not up for interpretation – that’s just the truth about these views that Maki is expressing. Again: I’m aromantic. I would know.

Even from a character who then does turn out to nonetheless have a crush on someone, these statements are pretty much as canonically confirmed arospec as you can get short of them straight up using the word "aromantic" or a variant.** And, well, obviously Maki isn't about to go calling herself that. From the way she’s questioning this, she clearly doesn’t realise that her perspective is the outlier, so she’s probably never even heard of the term. Besides, she most definitely has way bigger hurdles to be getting over first in terms of her self-acceptance before she's ever going to particularly care about figuring out labels for her orientation of all things.

Aros with trauma are still aros

Now, granted, I severely doubt that Maki being arospec is what the writers intended to convey. Haha, deliberate aro representation in mainstream Japanese media, especially something more complex than vanilla aro, that's a funny joke. What the writers probably meant by writing this conversation I just discussed is to suggest that Maki is viewing things this way a result of her trauma.

But hey, guess what? Even if it is because of her trauma - and I'm not denying that it probably is - that doesn't make Maki any less aro. Some people are arospec because of trauma, and that's equally as valid a reason to be arospec as without. Maybe Maki would have grown up alloromantic if she hadn't been scouted as an assassin, but that's irrelevant, because that's not the Maki who exists now.

In writing this conversation, the writers were presumably attempting to communicate that Maki is so messed up by having been manipulated and abused and moulded into a soulless killing machine that she can no longer comprehend the idea of how or why anybody (especially not herself) would fall in love with someone when they'd only just met, or even really in any circumstances at all. …And in doing that, the writers unintentionally wrote a character who, as a result of her trauma, is aro(-spec). This is an objective fact about the canon story that does not change just because the writers probably weren’t aware enough about aromanticism to actually realise this.

Aros who feel romantic attraction are still aros

So, of course, Maki does in fact come to romantically love Kaito despite this. That fact becomes very important to her, and me lengthily explaining here that she’s actually arospec is not remotely trying to diminish that. But it’s also very important to me that people realise that Maki’s romantic love for Kaito comes from an aromantic perspective. She eventually chooses to embrace those feelings not remotely because it just feels to her like the natural way things should go, but despite every single conscious part of her insisting that this is weird and illogical and doesn’t make any goddamn sense to even be happening at all. She is not going to suddenly fall into all the boring romantic cliches and stereotypical alloromantic approaches to love just because she does in fact happen to be experiencing romantic attraction. There’s nothing alloromantic about Maki’s crush on Kaito.***

As for the specific flavour of arospec that allowed Maki to fall in love with Kaito anyway? This part is somewhat more up for interpretation because there’s no real explicit indication of this in particular, but I personally like to go with the idea that Maki is demiromantic. It feels appropriate for Maki’s character and trauma to imagine that she can only begin to potentially feel romantic things towards a person when she has an emotional connection with them – when she trusts them and knows that they trust her. It doesn’t necessarily have to take very long – she’d only been friends with Kaito for a handful of days before that telling conversation with Shuichi – and she may not even have to have consciously admitted to herself that she trusts them, but she needs to have that bond. She’s normally so guarded and has such strong automatic barriers up during her interpersonal interactions that seeing most people in a romantic light literally isn’t even an option in her brain.

Maki’s confession of her feelings for Kaito does read as rather strongly demiromantic, I think. She makes a point that this is about who Kaito is and what he’s done for her, before even getting to the part where she admits to having fallen for him. And she says she “fell for” him, not that she was always in love with him or anything to that effect. This happened somewhere along the way during their friendship, because of their friendship, and because of Kaito being his incredible trusting supportive self towards her when she needed it most.

Maki Harukawa is demiromantic, and she’s wonderful.

  ---

[some grumpy Amatonormativity and Aro Erasure 101 footnotes, can you tell I am bitter about this kind of thing]

(* When I say “actual meaningful indication” of romantic feelings, I mean something that isn't just the narrative infuriatingly pointing at things that are actually perfectly platonic in nature and going “ooh look how romantic~!”. Newsflash: worrying about somebody and wanting to rescue them when they're sick and injured and have been kidnapped by someone you think is an evil sadistic mastermind is not somehow proof of romantic feelings. That is a thing that friends do. And on the same note, teaching somebody how to build a crossbow is not some kind of deep metaphor for romance; it is literally just a lesson in how to build a goddamn crossbow. Maki would have done both of these things in exactly the same way if her crush on Kaito didn’t exist.)

(** It's exactly like how characters can be considered canonically confirmed same-gender-attracted when all they've done is show attraction to the same gender****, without them actually needing to explicitly refer to themselves with the word “gay”, or “lesbian”, or “bi” or whatever else. Anyone who tried to insist that was necessary in order for it to “count” would instantly be written off as homophobic. So if that’s the case, then a character explicitly saying something such as “I don’t understand what it means to like someone that way” equally constitutes them being confirmed aro, and trying to argue that it doesn’t “count” without outright hearing the word itself is, guess what…?)

(*** This also inherently means that there’s nothing straight about Maki’s crush on Kaito either, since societally-expected “straight” attraction is allo as well as hetero. I gather that some people in this fandom like to devalue and erase Maki’s crush (and potentially also Maki herself) because they feel that it’s an Obligatory Forced Straight Romance and don’t like that, or something along those lines. Well, good news! It’s literally not that, actually, because Maki isn’t straight.)

(**** …This only applies so long as it actually is very clearly romantic or sexual attraction and not just people deciding platonic affection is totally romantic thanks to the disease that is amatonormativity. Because, you know. That happens. Literally all the time. (Even from V3’s narrative itself; see footnote 1.))

[lifeofkaze]

When Stars Ignite - Chapter 7

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N: Can you believe it, that's already the final chapter of Part 1! Part 2 is already completely written but still needs editing. As soon as we will be done writing Part 3, we will start publishing Part 2.

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: Language

~~~

Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

~~~

This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @night-rhea @carewyncromwell

Fascinating new thing

The scene-makin'

Want a temporary savior

Fascinating new thing

Don't betray them

By becoming familiar

~ Semisonic - F.N.T. ~

Everyone’s eyes flicked towards the entrance of the dressing room as the door opened and Charlie entered the crowded room, a petite looking woman trailing behind him.

Lizzie surely wasn’t one of the taller girls, but Charlie’s companion seemed to be even smaller than she was. She had olive toned skin and messy dark hair that ended a little bit beneath her shoulders. She was dressed casually, wearing black ripped jeans, sneakers and a simple white shirt beneath her denim jacket; Lizzie recognised several of the logo patches sewn onto the fabric as belonging to a few of her favourite bands. The girl carried large headphones around her neck, much like the ones Lizzie was using when she was drumming and didn’t want to bother with her in-ear monitor.

What struck her the most however, were the new girl's eyes. They were of an unusual colour, not quite brown, not quite green. As she moved to stand next to Charlie, their colour seemed to shift, never quite settling for one or the other. The expression in them wasn’t hostile, but still guarded as she looked around the room. After her gaze had swept the round, she shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket and looked down at her feet with an unreadable expression. The only thing Lizzie could say for sure was that it wasn’t a shy one.

Her attention was drawn from inspecting their crew’s newest addition when Charlie spoke up.

“Sorry to bother you.”

Despite the palpable tension, he smiled openly into the round of the faces staring at him. Glad to see his friendly, freckled face, Lizzie hopped down from the arm of the sofa and quickly made her way across the room.

“Not at all, it’s fantastic to see you, Charlie.”

Hugging her childhood friend, Lizzie stood on her tiptoes to whisper into his ear. “We’re having a bit of a situation at the moment, just so you know.”

Charlie’s brow furrowed before letting her go. His scowl was quickly replaced by another smile as he loosely draped his arm around her shoulder, nudging her playfully.

“I only saw you this morning, sunshine,” he laughed before inclining his head in his companion’s direction. “I just came in to introduce you all to my new assistant, Artemis Hexley. She’s hopefully going to take over from me properly once she’s completed her training.”

The girl called Artemis opened her mouth to say something to Charlie, and judging by her scowl it probably wasn’t something nice. Before the mood in the room could deteriorate again, Lizzie cut her off prematurely.

“That’s great! It’s really nice to meet you.”

She realised how overly enthusiastic she was sounding and if Artemis’ confused look was anything to go by, she was thinking the same thing. But Lizzie didn’t want her first impression of them to be that of a bunch of people sulking at each other; while they did have their low points sometimes, that generally just wasn’t them.

Taking a deep breath to tone herself down a notch, she flashed a smile at Artemis. “My name’s Lizzie, I’m the percussionist. I really like your jacket by the way, it’s so pretty. Where is it from?”

Lizzie noticed too late that she had cut off Artemis’ answer. The look on the new pyro tech’s face grew increasingly darker and Lizzie instantly felt sorry; that was not what she had been trying to achieve.

“I can’t believe that we’ve finally found someone to take over the pyros who’s actually suited for the job. Charlie here’s been working himself to the bone doing sound as well.” Lizzie’s smile turned into a smirk as she shot Charlie a brief side glance. “You just let me know if he gives you a hard time, okay?”

Charlie snorted. “Like I’d do a thing like that.”

Laughing his remark off, she playfully poked Charlie between his ribs.

“I mean it,” Lizzie continued more seriously, placing a hand on Artemis’ shoulder, “any problems, you tell me. I’ll deal with him for you.”

She had meant it as a friendly offer, to show the new girl she had someone to talk to in case Charlie would treat her the same as all the others who had tried out for the job; God knew, there had been a lot of them. But Artemis must have misunderstood her intention. She shook Lizzie’s hand from her shoulder with one pointed movement of her body and grimaced.

“Thanks, but I am perfectly capable of dealing with my own problems. I don’t need a babysitter,” she replied blankly. Her last words were directed just as much at her as they were at Charlie.

Surprised at being shot down like that, Lizzie exchanged a glance with Charlie, who pressed his lips together and averted his eyes. He gave Lizzie the tiniest of apologetic shrugs.

Artemis had turned her attention to examining the other members of the band and Lizzie used the moment to lean closer to Charlie.

“What a nice little ray of sunshine you got yourself there,” she muttered into his ear, shooting a quick glance at Artemis again. “Is she always that charming?”

Charlie shrugged. “Can’t really tell yet, but yeah, she might be rubbing people the wrong way. I hope that won’t be a problem.”

“Why take her on if you’re not sure she’ll fit in?”

Charlie shook his head. “That’s not what I said. I think she just needs a bit of time to open up. And believe me, that girl knows her stuff. The first one I really think capable of doing the job justice.”

Lizzie made a noncommittal noise. “Let’s hope you’re right then. The rest of the tour has to be perfect, Ethan made that very clear.”

Before Charlie could ask what she meant, Everett’s voice drew both their attention. It had this slightly condescending tone to it that he usually reserved for his more adoring fans.

“Smile, love, it might never happen.”

Lizzie felt her stomach twist as her eyes shot back to Artemis. She had narrowed her eyes and was glaring at Everett. He didn’t seem impressed in the slightest; he had his chair propped back on its hind legs and was leaning back against it with a cocky grin. He was sizing Artemis up with his eyes; it reminded Lizzie of a wolf deciding at which point to sink its teeth into his prey.

Thankfully, Orion disbanded the situation by briefly looking up from his notes. “A smile is not something that can be conjured on request, but is a blessing to be earned,” he said softly, his eyes resting not on Artemis but Everett. “For now, Artemis’ presence in itself must be a blessing for us all.”

“Are you taking the piss?”

Artemis was looking at Orion with a mixture of defiance and incredulity. Lizzie always forgot that people who had never spoken to him before needed a while to get used to his way of talking.

“I am not,” Orion answered levelly before turning his attention to his notes again. “We were in need of a pyrotechnician, and now, here you are.”

“And you were certainly blessed with much better looks than the last one,” Everett couldn’t help but add. “Nice work mate,” he grinned into Charlie’s direction.

Lizzie sighed inwardly; she stepped away from Charlie and into the line of sight between their singer and the new crewmate. There weren’t many ways in which they could have given Artemis a worse first impression of themselves.

Trying to steer the conversation onto safer grounds again, Lizzie forced herself to smile. “What Ev wants to say is, it really is great to meet you, Artemis.”

She had the impression Artemis wasn’t trying too hard not to roll her eyes. “You said that already.”

“Because it’s true. Isn’t that right?” Lizzie pointedly asked into the direction of Merula and Skye, who had taken themselves out of the conversation completely.

Much to her exasperation, Merula only gave the tiniest shrug while Skye didn’t seem to be listening at all. She was still engaged in a whispered conversation with Ethan; Lizzie could just imagine what about. Nonetheless, she cleared her throat to get Skye’s attention.

“Skye?”

The blue haired bassist looked over to them for the first time now, a flicker of annoyance crossing her freckled face for the briefest moment. “Yeah, smashing, absolutely.”

She gave her father a last look before sharply clapping her hands together. “Right, sounds like we’ve got a lot of work to do. I say let’s crack on with it.”

“Skye’s right, we really need to get to work,” Ethan nodded into Charlie’s and Artemis’ direction, indicating it was time for them to go. “Pleasure to meet you, Alexis.”

Artemis tried correcting him but he had already turned his back on her and gone over to Everett, probably in an attempt to soothe the singer’s hurt pride.

Lizzie shook her head as Charlie and his new assistant left the room. So much for making a good impression.

As they were leaving the dressing room a little while later, Lizzie joined up with Orion, who was walking behind the rest. She waited until they were out of earshot before asking what had been bothering her ever since their discussion with Ethan.

“Why do you want to sing all of a sudden?”

Orion glanced at her for a moment and smirked. “Why did you fall over yourself to be friendly to Charlie’s new partner?”

Lizzie made a face. “Really? A question for a question again?”

Orion’s smirk turned into a melodic chuckle. “I’d call it an answer for an answer.”

“Fine then. I think Artemis only looks really tough and don’t-come-near-me on the outside. Charlie and I spend a lot of time together, me being friends with her would make things a lot easier for all of us. And besides,” she added with a shrug, “I didn’t want her to think we’re all idiots with an attitude.”

Orion had to laugh at that. “Sometimes I’m not sure any of us is too far from that. Don’t go all overboard with that poor girl though, drummer girl. You can’t force her to be friends with you. She didn’t seem to approve of your bright spirit.”

“I can’t force her, but I can certainly try to win her over,” Lizzie replied confidently. “I do know how to make people come out of their shell, don’t I?” she added with a not completely innocent flutter of her eyelashes.

“You most certainly do,” Orion smirked, a crooked smile tugging at the corners of his mouth that made Lizzie want to reach out and touch him.

Distracting herself, she held him to his end of the bargain. “That was my answer, what is yours? Why not let Everett sing? He has a point when he says you’ll be in the spotlight much more; I always thought you didn’t want that.”

The playful look on Orion’s face vanished, making way for a more contemplative one.

“There is a reason you are the only person to have heard the new songs so far. You understand my music, you know what I want to say even if they still need work. You get them. But the others often don’t, Everett in particular.”

Orion watched the frontman of their band, who was walking a little ahead of them. He was still arguing with Ethan about something, neither of them looking too happy.

“Your assumption that I don’t have the same wish to stand in the spotlight that he has is correct. Contrary to Everett, I play for the music, not the attention. But I’d rather have all eyes on me than having to see my music and my thoughts not being done justice.”

He furrowed his brow at the sheer idea of it. “There are so many nuances and little details about each and every one of them that I can’t quite put into words yet. So far, I - and I alone - know how they have to be presented to the world to carry their message.”

Lizzie thought about his words for a moment. “Doesn’t sound like either solution is a good one then.”

Orion sighed. “In this, you are right. Sometimes it is just a matter of choosing the lesser evil.”

[prose-for-hire]

Me and You

Pairing: Faith x fem!slayer!reader

Request: Hi, could you write a faith x female reader (maybe also a slayer) story where the reader is like Faiths opposite, really responsible and serious (sorta like Kendra) and her and Faith keep squabbling but end up falling for each other? If not I completely understand, its your call, thanks :)

Requested by: Anon

A/N: I absolutely love Faith, I want her to hold me lol 💖🖤

As soon as you had been called, your life had completely slotted into place. You were a Slayer. One of the chosen ones. You had perfectly crafted a ten-point plan and highlighted all of the goals you wished to reach now that you were on this path.

You took studying very seriously, you read more than the watcher that you had been assigned. He was actually pretty hopeless, you wondered why he had been assigned to you.

But, you did respect those in authority. So, you assisted him and somehow the correct tome made its way to his desk as if by magic. You respected the status quo for the most part. The way that everyone had their place and yours was to fight vampires and other kinds of demons.

You had arrived in Sunnydale, having been told there were already two slayers there. You weren’t really used to friends and so you didn’t know what to make of them. Faith had taken one look at you and decided she knew everything she needed to know about you.

“Slayer?”

“Yes! Isn’t it a gift?”

“Yeah, the kind you return” She had rolled her eyes at you and dipped. Not needing to hear you recite the entire Slayer manual to her backwards.

As time went on, you got on with Buffy although you felt she wished you would switch off as well. But you had a duty, it was what you had trained for. You couldn’t relax for a moment, you didn’t want to.

However, you entirely didn’t get along with Faith. You were always squabbling. You infuriated each other. You never agreed. Especially not on slaying. But it ended up bleeding through into all parts of you lives.

You just couldn’t stop arguing. Sometime sit was heated and one of you had your hand curled into a fist. Other times it was stupid and petty and you both knew it, but it didn’t mean you would stop.

However, as this continued, you began to find yourself becoming increasingly attracted to her. It confused you and you hadn’t understood at first. But soon you were watching her lips as she spoke. Imagining kissing her. Having those toned arms wrapped around you.

You only snapped more at her when you realised. Didn’t want anyone to notice, much less her, the way that you felt. You had never even considered that she felt the same. And she really did.

Buffy had said you needed to patrol. There was a nest of vamps and she needed you to take the west and you would meet your patrol partner there.

She had chosen to have her actual friends with her so that she wasn’t bored and decided to pair you and Faith up on the far side from where she would be. 

“You?!” You squeaked, your voice higher in pitch than you had expected it to be.

“Yep. Just me and you” She grinned at your expression walking past you her stake in hand. You exhaled, sighing audibly in frustration as you stalked after her to catch up.

You were going to be alone together. You didn’t know if you were annoyed or elated. You couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to be her girlfriend.

It took about three steps before you began to squabble again. As you usually would. Your voices had carried across the cemetery you had been walking through. It wasn’t your usual stealth. Because of how much attention you were paying each other and how engrossed in the interaction you were, no matter how heated it was getting, it meant you hadn’t noticed the vampires that were beginning to surround you.

You walked for a while until you made a left turn and suddenly found yourself surrounded. A nest of vampires were apparently a whole army of vampires.

But they had a mastermind behind them. They had rushed you, you managed to thin the herd slightly but not by enough. You and Faith retreated into an old tunnel system. You fought hard, but it was no use. You were strong but there was too many.

You had began fighting in-sync but you had soon ended up as if you were fighting your own battle. Getting in each other’s ways. You shouted at each other but it was no use.

Suddenly as more vampires could be heard running to join the fight overhead, there was a loud cracking sound above your heads. The foundations weren’t solid in this area. The ground above had caved in and left the concrete crumbling into the tunnels.

Luckily, you and Faith had been left in one half and the vampires in the other. Unluckily, you had hit a dead end and had been sealed in.

Now you were trapped. Together. Because you had been paying more attention to each other rather than the threat.

“Well, that’s one threat gone” She shrugged as you just stared incredulously. You hadn’t taken out the nest and now you were trapped. There was no good side.

“Oh yeah, well done. I could have handled it”

“You and what army, huh? You’re kiddin’ yourself” Faith shook her head at you. At the way you were so self-assured you were giving her a run for her money.

But despite her faults, of which you had pointed out many to her as she had to you, she was perceptive. She noticed something about you. She wished she could pretend she hadn’t been taking notice of you on purpose. Because of that guilty affection she harboure for you. The one she couldn’t dare name. She didn’t want to get hurt, she would rather stick to relationships with guys she didn’t care about. She only had to pretend to care for a night.

With you, it was different. To be vulnerable with you and to have you reject her. To not be affectionate with her the way she was embarrassed to admit she had dreamed about.

She didn’t usually do this. Let you see that she took notice of you, but she couldn’t help saying it.

“Not everything is you havin’ the whole world on your shoulders y’know?” she asked, her tone had changed. Almost… softened. You didn’t take care of yourself at times, she had noticed. Sacrificing yourself for your duty.

“Yeah you wouldn’t know” You snapped back at her despite the tone you had thought you caught from her. But your voice was wavering. Every second you spent trapped you began feeling worse and worse.

Faith didn’t take your snapping personally, she never did. In fact, she found herself enjoying it. Finding herself noticing the absence if you hadn’t interacted that day. Even if it was just you at each other’s throats.

It had been hours. You had both barely spoken since. You had to take your jackets off as the room began to heat up. You were beginning to sweat. Your breathing irregular. You were pacing.

“I-I can’t do this!” You suddenly shouted, “I need to get out of here!”

“Hey, y/n/n-”

“Help!” You screamed, pounding on the wall. Hoping that someone, anyone would hear you. But Faith, as you usually would, knew that this could bring threat. You were panicking so Faith clasped a hand over your mouth, muffling your shouts. You missed the way her other hand lingered on your shoulder in your panic.

She expected you to push her off but you just sort of let her hold you there. The proximity to you was agonising and your breathing was heavy. From the fear. From the way her skin felt against you.

But rather than argue, you just stopped. She moved her hands away and you moved against the wall, sliding down it to sit at the bottom on the floor.

You put your head in your hands. You didn’t like this. You were truly scared. She had never seen you this way. You were always cool. Taking everything as it came at you. You took on every duty that was expected of you.

But now you just couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t follow protocol. You didn’t want to be stuck here. Didn’t want to have to wait it out. To possibly never see the light of day.

She saw that you were scared. Genuinely scared in a way you would never usually let her see. She presumed you were so cool all of the time. A robot. Y/n the slayer-tron.

You were visibly worried. Expecting the end. She watched you for a moment, debating whether to comfort you. Before her mouth decided for her.

“Hey, don’t freak okay? B knows where we are. Her and the others’ll come” She shrugged, sitting down beside you on the floor.

But she wasn’t as sure of herself as she came across. She was being strong. For you. She had never seen you be this vulnerable before. You would never admit you were scared. But being confined here it made you rethink everything. Your very purpose.

“What if we die down here?”

“Hey, don’t sweat it, huh? It’ll be cool” she said firmly.

She looked at you for a moment, wanting to put her arms around your shoulder. Provide some kind of comfort. She couldn’t explain it. She cared about you, she had just never known how to show it. Arguing and working up a lot of sexual tension was so much easier.

“B-but it’s real, isn’t it? That we could die. That we will die… sooner than later” You never allowed yourself to think of it, much less discuss it. But this situation had gotten to you somehow. Had made you question your resolve. Your duties. How you just listened to the rules without questioning them.

This also made you incredibly guilty. You prided yourself on how seriously you took your duty. On the way you were a watcher’s dream. How you had saved the world.

It shocked her, that you would include her in your thoughts. Gave her this strange feeling. Hope. Or, a feeling that you trusted her in some sense. Could rely on her in the way she wished you would sometimes.

“Look, I don’t know about you but I’m here for the long haul. We’re good at this, we’re survivors” She offered, talking of you both as a unit. As something that appeared to meant she was by your side. That you weren’t alone in how you felt.

“Yeah, when we’re not getting ourselves trapped” You berated yourself more than her. You didn’t want to be stuck here, but you would be lying if you hadn’t imagined having her to yourself this way. In a conversation that was kind.

“Accidents happen. Me and you, we’re, uh, the ultimate team. We’re- we’re gonna get through this, right?”

“Me and you” you repeated and she nodded, smiling. As if telling you ‘that’s the spirit’. But her smile dropped a little when she saw the look you were giving her. Your lips were parted slightly and she couldn’t help scanning your face. You were so close she could map out every feature so clearly. She was making a mental picture so that she could submit it to memory.

The temperature had been rising the entire time you had been stuck there. The proximity of the way that you were sitting made those words feel intimate. You had wordlessly shifted closer as you spoke.

The meaning growing as you both leaned in. Agonisingly slowly. Heat rising around you, but you still reached for her weaving your fingers through her shiny brunette hair. She felt so good under your hands it propelled your forwards her lips were waiting. She had waited so long for this moment.

Driven herself wild with want. With the lust she had, the thoughts she had drove her crazy. That she wanted all sides of you. Even your stick-by-the-rules nature. She was fond of you. She had such deep feelings.

Your lips met. Crashing against each other in your haste. In your innate need to connect with her. Through the arguing. Through the frustration. Focusing only on her lips, the way her tongue entered your mouth urgently.

You couldn’t get over how good she tasted. How you never wanted to stop. You were addicted to her touch. To her.

But of course, you knew this already. You were only confirming it. And this was no mere kiss. Not to either of you. This was Earth-shifting. Ground breaking.

You had kissed her. She was surprised at the way you had initiated this. She didn’t expect you to actually feel the tension the way she did. But she fucking loved it.

You were hungry for more. For her. In that moment, you were willing to forget your situation. Hell, you were ready to forget every responsibility. Your very destiny. Just to keep her lips on yours. To have her reciprocate your feelings even if it was only physical for her. But it wasn’t just physical to her. This meant something.

Suddenly you heard something. A spell had broken through the barriers that had blocked you in. A flash of light and you had sprung apart. Both breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath. Chests heaving. Eyes glancing towards the other, making sure it wasn’t dream.

Some guilty secret. Somehow, you both knew that wasn’t the last kiss you would share.

Your rescuers all pretended they hadn’t seen anything. But your friends were all as relieved as you, it had been about time.

[a-libra-writes]

The GoT Characters Reacting To You Being an Artist

this was a request, send eons ago, back in ye olden days. probably?

In this preference, you'll be drawing with: Ned Stark, Robb Stark, Sansa Stark, Jon Snow, Benjen Stark, Jory Cassel, Dolorous Edd, Mance Rayder, Tormund Giantsbane, Yara Greyjoy, Daenerys Targaryen, Jorah Mormont, Missandei, Grey Worm, Tywin Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, Jaime Lannister, Sandor Clegane, Bronn, Podrick Payne, Petyr Baelish, Stannis Baratheon, Davos Seaworth, Margaery Tyrell, Brynden Tully, Edmure Tully, Brienne of Tarth, Ramsay Bolton, Roose Bolton, Oberyn Martell, Beric Dondarrion

NED STARK

He’s the sort to be charmed by something like this, he’s never had a talent for creative pursuits so he appreciates it when he sees it. He likes the devotion you have to it, and the discipline, it’s just another reason to admire you. Ned encourages the hobby, and when he has time he likes to watch your painting or sketching. if you allow it. Ned enjoys your pictures of animals the most, even if they aren’t very good… He thinks they’re cute. If you ever made portraits of the family, he’d absolutely hang them around his office and the sitting rooms at your request.

ROBB STARK

When you were children, Robb used to be terribly impatient, waiting for you to finish sketching and doodling so you both could finally play. You’d make him pose funny so you could have a reference. As he got older, he began to be in awe of your skill as it improved. He still remembers the cute little scribbles you’d make. Now whenever you ask him to sit so you can practice portraits, he blushes under your concentrating stare. He would love to have a portrait of you to take with him on his campaigns, but he’d be too shy to ask directly, so he’d suggest it in the most roundabout ways.

SANSA STARK

She adores watching you work, and the finished product. Sansa enjoys creative pursuits, and although she’s more of a seamstress and embroiderer, you can share experiences and tips with each other. Sometimes she’ll ask you to lightly sketch on fabric so she can embroider over it. As much as she loves your drawings, she blushes whenever you want to draw her, and she can’t imagine being painted. Sitting and being stared at by you is so romantic to her young mind, she can’t focus at all, daydreaming about what it’ll look like when it’s finished. It’s a memory she cherishes for a long time.

JON SNOW

Jon was wondering where you had gone off to at the end of your duties, not that he kept track of that often, it was Ghost that would lead him to wherever you were hiding. He thought it was kind of silly to hide something like this, but then again, you took great pains to get supplies from Mole’s Town. He’s so relaxed when he watches your process, how you so effortlessly transfer things around you to paper. When Jon can, he tries to get charcoal for you to use.

BENJEN STARK

He loves listening to the sound of the charcoal scratching against your sketchbook. He usually hears it when he finds you after his overnight shifts, wanting to see you before he left to sleep. He’ll rest against you and idly watch the picture appear on the paper. Sometimes the sound of that and your breathing is so peaceful, he falls asleep. He likes it when you draw maps for the ranger’s reference because you sketch out the different animals and wildling camps instead of just marking them. It’s cute as hell, and he won’t let anyone insult you for it.

JORY CASSEL

Jory loves your talent as well, he heard people around Winterfell talking about your “charming” paintings and wanted to see for himself. When he was crushing on you and later trying to court you in his own way, he’d bring you art supplies you needed. The fact he paid attention to what you were running low on was flattering. Jory enjoys watching you work, but he’s too embarrassed to sit and pose for anything; he’s relieved if you paint landscapes or animals instead.

EDDISON TOLLETT

He thought it was the oddest thing he’d ever seen, you huddled up in your coat and scarf but no gloves so you could draw the horses or some trees. Well, Sam had his books, and Jon would go off to train, so this was just something you did to keep your sanity on the wall. He liked sitting next to you and observing, making wry comments now and again. Many times he’s joked about you drawing the wall, but a specific section of the wall, because “that’s the prettiest part”. If he can find some charcoal or things to draw on, he’ll keep it without thinking, then remember it weeks later and give it to you with some shyness.

MANCE RAYDER

Mance loves your artistic nature. He’s a musician himself, so he understands the urge to create something, to just let your mind wander and escape in it. You’re sort of an odd inspiration to him; when you both are relaxing in his tent late in the evening, and you’re just sketching something, he feels the urge to get his lute and start experimenting with a new song.

TORMUND GIANTSBANE

He doesn’t really get the “point” of it, but he’s still fascinated watching you paint something across a thin, pale piece of leather you made yourself. Tormund will just be right there next to you, up in your business and wanting to see how you do it. He’s more patient in the evening, content to sit across the fire and just watch your hands move. He wonders how you just know how to move them. Sometimes he’ll trace things in the snow with a stick, trying to mimic your shapes and movements, but falling totally short. It just makes him more in awe of you.

YARA GREYJOY

She doesn’t think much of artistic pursuits, it’s just not in the Ironborn culture to care about things like art and prose. Still, she knows skill when she sees it, and she can admit it’s interesting to watch you sketch something, then she comes back an hour later and you’ve made the drawing almost lifelike. She won’t ever want to be drawn, but there’s a look of pride on her face when you show her scenes of her ship and the men working on it. She might even keep one of them.

DAENERYS TARGARYEN

Dany thought you were writing in that old journal for the longest time, and she realized you were drawing when you were next to Drogon, capturing a rare moment of the dragon calmly sitting. That’s when she playfully demanded to see it, wanting to see what else you drew of her dragons. Instead she found a sketchbook full of scenery, people, horses, flowers, whatever interested you at the time. When she passed over portraits of herself, she wanted to linger and stare, smiling at how shy you’d get. Once in Meereen, Daenerys sets up a studio for you, hoping you can escape to it when you’re stressed. She ends up visiting it just as often, admiring your half-finished paintings as she tries to calm down.

JORAH MORMONT

Jorah finds it to be a darling hobby, something that fits you perfectly, but he’s still surprised by your skill level. In Essos, that sort of talent is coveted by rich merchants and politicians, but you only do it for yourself. When the khalasar stops to camp for the evening, he’ll make his way to you, hoping you don’t mind him sitting and quietly watching. Whenever you mention drawing Jorah, he’s flattered but shy at the idea. He doesn’t think he’d make a very interesting subject in armor or not, so he directs you to the horses or landscape. Whenever he passes by a market, he looks for paints you might like.

MISSANDEI

She’s highly appreciative of your talent, as she has something of an artistic interest. Missandei isn’t much of one herself, but she appreciates art immensely. She can’t hide her curiosity when she notices you painting and sketching, and she’ll want to wait for you to tell her it’s okay to look. Once you two are closer, she’ll ask about your process, about why you chose this color or that subject, what the art makes you feel. You noticed she prefers your more abstract pieces over the simple still-life or portraits.

GREY WORM

Grey Worm has seen all sorts of grand portraits and sculptures in the houses he was sent to guard over the years. He never had a thought about how they were actually made, even after being freed. It was so new and foreign to him. When he watched you work, he loved seeing how it’d go from a sketch to a painting. You’d show him the different paintings and brush strokes to make it happen, but it was still like magic. When you drew him, it unsettled him at first, seeing a non-moving reflection stare back at him. Eventually Grey Worm shyly asked for a small portrait of yourself that he could carry around. It’s his good luck charm.

TYWIN LANNISTER

Well, there are less than savory hobbies young ladies can have, and painting was certainly an accomplishment to be proud of. He admired your skill from afar, you were clearly talented, and he’s a man who appreciates a craft that’s honed and excelled in. This continued in Casterly Rock, and Tywin had to admit he was proud of the landscapes you did of the keep and the ocean surrounding it. He’d have several of your paintings in fancy frames in his office.

TYRION LANNISTER

During your first meeting, Tyrion noticed the odd markings and colors on your dominant hand, and sometimes they were on your sleeves, too. When he spotted you drawing in a secluded corner days later, it made sense. Tyrion was interested in you so he used art as a way to talk with you, and he was pleasantly surprised when you’d respond, letting him see your sketches and later, some of your paintings. It was like he was invited into a private world, and it made him like you all the more. When you’re a couple, he’s always finding interesting paints from Essos or fine brushes made of ivory and sable hair, and he proudly keeps your paintings in his office.

JAIME LANNISTER

Sometimes he lingered in your chambers after you two were intimate, and inevitably you’d start sketching something. He thought it was amusing, some funny quirk, and always had to joke if you were drawing him. When you’d fall asleep he’d look through the sketchbook, admiring your drawings, trying to deny how much of yourself he could see in them, and how they deepened his feelings for you. It was too risky to carry a portrait, but he ended up stealing one of your drawings before he had to leave for his father’s war. He chose a simple detailed sketch of your favorite flowers; you used them in your perfume and you always had them in your room.

SANDOR CLEGANE

The gruff man dismisses it as “some women’s nonsense”, although he couldn’t recall any women in court who had their noses stuck in sketchbooks as often as you did. He’d see you in the gardens almost every day, drawing something in a book. He didn’t think about it until you two were close, and he was able to sit next to you and see the drawings. Sometimes you drew what was around you, and that made sense, but sometimes you drew things from your head, and he wondered how difficult that was. Sandor would absolutely not want anything drawn of him; it makes him uncomfortable and gives him feelings he’s not ready for when he sees pictures you made of him or Stranger.

BRONN OF BLACKWATER

Bronn doesn’t think much of it. He’s a mercenary, what did you expect? He didn’t tease you, but he did like to be a distraction when you were trying to draw something, curling his arms around your waist and kissing up your neck to get your attention. Often when you knew he was stopping by, you’d engross yourself in a project, just to grin at his frustration as he tried to pull you from it. He’s had some curiosity and looked in your sketchbook before, but that’s it. He’s willing to pose for something, but only if you promise him a reward, since he gets antsy sitting so still, having to look at you but not getting to touch.

PODRICK PAYNE

He really admires your skill, it was something he was always interested in as a boy, but he never had the talent for it. When you’re sketching, Pod wants to look over your shoulder, but that’d be rude, so he just waits, a bundle of nervous energy that Tyrion eventually dismisses. He can’t hide his excitement when you offer to show him the sketchbook, and later your studio, which he enters with such reverence, you’re a little embarrassed. Once Podrick is more comfortable with you, he’ll ask about your process and inspiration.

PETYR BAELISH

He admires your talent like he admires the rest of you, it’s just one more reason to adore you. He found out where your secret drawing spot was, where you’d hide away from the court and spend all morning on your sketchbook. This is where Petyr would “chance” upon you, and your art was a way for him to get you to open up. He was well versed in art himself, so he could discuss techniques and artists with you, and later send you nice gifts like rare paints and fine brushes. If he knew you’d accept, he’d offer to give you a tour of some of the fine paintings and ancient statues that were sadly gathering dust in the Red Keep, paying more attention to your reactions than what you were looking at.

STANNIS BARATHEON

Stannis really has no like or dislike for art, it’s not something he cares to think about. Even with that lack of opinion, he can tell you’re talented and you work hard at what you do. Since you clearly enjoy it so much, eventually he’ll shyly offer you a room in Dragonstone to use as a studio. He may not be the best at describing why he likes your work, or what about it is good (please don’t ask his opinion on a piece), but he’ll make sure you have whatever supplies you desire. He’ll be beyond embarrassed if you ask to draw him, but you can quietly sit in his study and sketch, he’ll be none the wiser.

DAVOS SEAWORTH

Davos finds your skill to be charming, and something worthy of praise, he’s not shy about complimenting you when he notices you painting. He’d never overstep his bounds and ask to see the sketchbook you’re always buried in, but even just listening to your charcoal scratch at the paper is soothing. Several afternoons he’s sat whittling something while you draw something else, both of you exchanging a few words, then sitting in a peaceful silence. He’s always encouraging of your art, even if he doesn’t know any technical terms or what’s considered “great” vs “good”. It looks nice to him, so he enjoys it.

MARGAERY TYRELL

This is just one of many things Margaery appreciates about you; really, there’s nothing more attractive than someone with many talents. Her favorite thing is to watch you paint, specifically, when you’re mixing paints and deciding which color to use. They all look similar to her, and you’re only using a few strokes of some of them! She likes to sit and chat with you while you work, not even minding when you just respond with a “mm” and “oh”. She has a hand mirror that has a small portrait of you in it; she insisted you paint one she could carry around.

BRYNDEN TULLY

He enjoys sitting next to you when he has a chance, watching you work on your sketchbook while you both chat or just enjoy the silence. It’s what drew him to you initially, a pretty girl with her nose tucked in a sketchbook, totally oblivious to the lords trying to get her attention. Unlike those courtiers, he doesn’t pretend to know a damn thing about art. He just loves to see your graceful hands move across the page and how you furrow your brow in concentration. Brynden outright laughs if you want to draw him, insisting there are far prettier subjects around. His younger, more wistful side wishes someone could capture the express you have when you draw, so he could have that picture in his pocket.

EDMURE TULLY

He likes the hobby, it’s just another amazing thing about you, although admittedly he can get impatient when you’re spending a long time on a painting. He gets a funny, flustered feeling when you paint landscapes of Riverrun, or portraits of your children, once you have them. He’ll hang them up proudly in the Great Hall - or his office, if you’d rather have them there, he’s just so proud! Though, he’s a bit shy about sitting for a portrait. Something about your gaze makes him squirm, and he’d much rather have a picture of you or the kids.

BRIENNE OF TARTH

When Brienne watches you sketch something and later paint over it, it almost seems like magic, although she understands the hard work behind it, and your artistic process. She understands it better than most, considering how hard she worked at her swordsmanship. Brienne is so embarrassed if you want her to sit for a portrait, she just can’t do it. However, if she’s fully armored and you’re sketching her training or on her horse… It gives her a pleasant kind of embarrassment. Your portrait looks amazing, a gallant knight in movement, and she’s so happy you see her that way.

RAMSAY SNOW

Oh, he gets so impatient when you’re sketching or painting and he wants you for something… or just wants you. You’ll see him sigh and fidget in your peripheral vision, if he doesn’t just sit in front of you and call your name. You don’t expect him to understand the point of it, although unbeknownst to you, he has some morbid ideas of art. Best not go to that place. You’re surprised by how much he likes drawings of his hounds, he’ll actually sit next to you and watch you work with interest. Granted, it won’t last more than fifteen or twenty minutes, but there’s a strange… comfort in the warmth of him as he leans in, resting his chin on your shoulder.

ROOSE BOLTON

He doesn’t mind how you spend your freetime, although this pursuit is an interesting one. To keep you pleased, he’d learn the different supplies and paints you used and order new ones whenever you needed them. If you liked quiet while you worked, or being outside, or having someone to talk to, he’d arrange that. You’d probably even have a room for a studio in the Dreadfort, many servants agree it’s a cheerful, welcome addition to the place. Once you two had children, Roose would keep a small portrait you painted of them in his office. It’s an oddly sentimental thing for the man to do, but no one would dare comment on it. 

OBERYN MARTELL

This is one of many things on his list of reasons to love you. He’s a man who loves art and creativity, especially when the paintings are full of life and color. When he notices you’re sketching or painting, he actually approaches quietly, not wanting to interrupt your concentration (and wanting to see what you’re working on). He’s delighted by portraits you make of him, but personally he loves your landscapes of Dorne. You capture his feelings of his country so well, it makes him a little emotional. He’ll absolutely ask you to draw a small portrait of yourself - as scandalous as you can manage! - so he can always have you with him. He keeps it in a small pocket mirror with the glass taken out.

BERIC DONDARRION

The former knight is very charmed by this, in fact, you might think he’s … attracted to it. He tries not to make it obvious, but you notice how he wistfully gazes at you while you draw. It’s never any big or fancy pieces, just what’s around as you travel with the Brotherhood. When you’re together, he makes no secret about it, looking totally lovesick as he watches how you brush your hair aside and focus on the drawing in front of you. What a silly man. He also likes to cuddle behind you while you work, sometimes resting his head on your back and falling into a doze.