#she said ''looks like you requested credit for this and they simply provided it. have a good day!''

[yoshistory]

UMMMMM......

[ahqkas]

Hello dearest author, i would like to request if they are still open something where Theodore is just relaxing with gf!reader. Like it’s a nice summer afternoon, the wind is blowing wonderfully and suddenly gf!reader says something romantic or just “I love you” in Italian shocking Theodore as he was sure she couldn’t even pronounce his native language right months before dating

-♾️

TI AMO ; theodore nott

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

IT WAS A PERFECT SUMMER AFTERNOON, THE KIND THAT SEEMED TO STRETCH LAZILY ACROSS THE HOURS WITH A GOLDEN HUE. The sky was a brilliant blue, untouched by even the hint of a cloud, and the gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass. You and Theo had found a secluded spot under a large oak tree on the edge of the Hogwarts grounds, its expansive branches providing a cool, dappled shade. Summer break was right behind the corner.

Theodore lay sprawled out on the blanket you’d brought, one arm tucked behind his head and the other loosely draped over his stomach. His eyes were closed, a soft smile playing on his lips as he soaked in the atmosphere of the moment. The rustling leaves above created a soothing symphony, a natural lullaby that complemented the soft sound of distant laughter and the occasional chirping of birds.

You were sitting next to him, having his head resting in your lap, your eyes tracing the lines of his relaxed form. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across his face. He looked so peaceful, so content, that you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell with love and admiration upon the sight of your boy. The months you had spent together had been a picture of sweetness and joy, and every moment had only deepened your feelings for him.

As you watched him, a sudden thought struck your mind. You had been practicing something special, something that you hoped would surprise him in a good way. Taking a deep breath, you leaned closer, your voice barely a whisper as you spoke the words you had practiced over and over.

"Ti amo,” the Italian syllables rolled off your tongue with surprising ease. You had been so nervous about getting it right, but the words felt natural, infused with all the love you felt for him.

Theo’s eyes snapped open, a mixture of surprise and delight flashing across his face. He lifted his head a bit to look at you, his blue eyes wide and sparkling with emotion. For a moment, he simply stared, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he had just heard.

"Did you just . . . ?" he began, his voice trailing off as a grin spread across his face. "You speak Italian now?"

You laughed softly, feeling a rush of warmth at his reaction. "I’ve been practicing," you admitted, your cheeks flushing slightly. "I wanted to surprise you."

Theo’s smile widened, his eyes softening with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. He reached out, gently cupping your cheek with his hand. The touch was warm and reassuring, grounding you in the moment.

"You did surprise me," he said in a low tone of his voice. "And you pronounced it perfectly. When we first started dating, I didn’t think you could even manage ‘ciao’ without stumbling."

You chuckled at his teasing remark, remembering the early days of your relationship when you had struggled with even the simplest Italian phrases. "I had a good reason to learn," you replied, your voice softening as you looked into his eyes. "I wanted to be able to tell you how much I love you in your native language."

Theo’s expression grew even more tender, his thumb brushing lightly against the apple of your cheek. "You have no idea how much that means to me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Ti amo, too."

The words, spoken in his deep, gentle voice, sent a shiver down your spine. He always managed to make you fall for him even more. You leaned in, closing the distance between you, and pressed your lips to his in a gentle, lingering kiss.

The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your little haven under the oak tree. The warmth of the sun, the rustling leaves, the distant sounds of summer — all of it became a backdrop to the profound sense of love and contentment that enveloped you both.

[gaysindistress]

Running from the Daylight - two

pairings: pirate!James “The Scourge of the Sea” Barnes x royal governor's daughter!reader 

Summary: based on this request

Warnings: reader uses She/her/hers pronouns and is AFAB, mentions of the female body/parts, cursing, suggestive sexual content, violence and mentions of death, sexual content (p in v), some dark shit (like I can’t tag it without spoiling it but people get freaky over someone who’s bleeding) I'm actually awful at tagging things but there's smut. for the love of all things holy, do not read if you are a minor.

Word count: 3.6k

part one | my master list

Tag list: @talesofreading

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif, found on google/Pinterest/tumblr. Credits to @boltlightning for the gif on the bottom left & @owenhcrper for the gif on the bottom right

Begging, pleading, and sucking him dry did nothing to convince James that I’ve been ready to take his cock since that first night.

He would be a monster and allow me to believe that he would finally take me only to stop right before it went too far. He would give me hollow reasons like “the sea is too rough,” “you are too tired,” “we don’t have a proper bed and I will not take your maiden hood without one.”

Useless excuse after useless excuse was all I received for months on end. A part of me wondered if he was growing bored but when I confessed this to him, he spent the following several hours between my legs. He lapped and sucked at my core until I was crying and shaking but kept pulling climaxes from me until I very nearly passed out.

I tried to tempt him by wearing thin nightdresses or simply nothing at all but it all failed. I even convinced Natasha to play along with a scheme in which James would just so happen to find us in the middle of fucking but nothing. All he did was sit in his captain’s chair and watch with sharp eyes, occasionally telling us what to do.

Months of pent up frustration finally came to head when we docked in New Providence to replenish our supplies. My father had been overjoyed to see me again but his happy mood was as soiled when he observed the way that James and I were.

“My darling please tell me that he has not ruined you,” my father harshly whispers to me as he pulls me aside.

I gasp in disbelief and rip my arm away from him.

“Excuse me! You are not allowed to ask me such a thing!”

“I am your father, Y/N Stark. It is well within my rights to know if my daughter has been abused by a pirate.”

I catch the watchful eye of James as he’s instructing his crew and he gives me a concerned look. I brush it off and look back to my father.

“Your daughter has not been abused,” I sneer as I spot the Commodore approaching us, “I’ve been kept safe and protected.”

Steve makes a face at my words as he stops beside us but my father seems satisfied. He backs away and nods goodbye to us before retreating back to his fortress.

“You may speak freely with me; has the pirate lord abused you?”

“The only abuse to be had is that what my throat endures from taking his cock every night,” I calmly state before also leaving to find my captain. I don’t wait to hear or see Steve’s reaction but I can feel his piercing stare on my back.

“You said you wouldn’t fuck me until we had a proper bed,” I say lowly as I drop myself onto the canopied bed behind me, “and I think this meets that requirement.”

James narrows his bright eyes at me but doesn’t move from his place leaning against the raging fireplace. It’s odd seeing him look…normal? He’s out of place in this world of luxury and refinement but here in the room that I once called my own, he looks like he belongs. A part of me wishes to pretend that our pasts were different and that he had been the man who proposed to me, yearning for me for years. I wish that time had been kind to him and that it hadn’t stolen his heart and soul. I wish that I could’ve been the one he fell in love with all those years ago so he wouldn’t have had to face that curse. I wish we could delight in being together alone in my room at my father’s estate, a situation I would’ve blushed to even think about a few months ago. I wish we could ignore the reality of who we are and wholly engulf ourselves in the opportunity that presents itself.

“I did say that, didn’t I love?” He muses for a moment, allowing his eyes to trail down my barely covered body. I’d found an even thinner and smaller nightdress to wear for tonight, hoping that it might finally be what breaks him.

Maybe my last wish would come true.

He pushes off the mantle and prowls towards me. As he gets closer, my body starts to burn with anticipation and I inch back to accommodate his imposing stature. James knocks my legs apart with his knee and slots between them as he leans over me. Both hands cup my face and my eyes flutter closed at his warm touch. He dips down to whisper in my ear and chuckles when my breath hitches.

“You need sleep my love.”

I let out a snort, “no I do not. What I need is…”

He interrupts me with a gentle peck and mutters against my lips, “I know what you need and that is sleep.”

James presses another kiss to my lips with a subtle roll of his hips into mine while wearing a wicked smirk. I stick my tongue out at him as he pulls away and waits for me to settle into bed. He finds his place in the huge and ugly arm chair that my mother insisted I needed in front of the fireplace. His hat is sat on the small table beside him and his feet are kicked out in front of himself. Crossing his arms over his chest, James settles himself into the chair as if he’s going to sleep there and I frown at him.

“I can feel you thinking, love,” he quips and although I can’t see his face, I know there’s a smirk.

“Is that where you intend to sleep? In my armchair that I know is most certainly the most uncomfortable piece of furniture in this house?”

His shoulder shrugs and he makes a show of making himself comfortable with a loud sigh.

“It’s perfectly comfortable to me, your highness,” the jab at my upbringing doesn’t go unnoticed, not with the way he elongates the word and lowers his voice.

Scoffing, I throw a pillow at him and he chuckles when it flies past, missing him.

“Remind me to work on your aim in the morning,” he teases me before adding that I need to be going to sleep.

“We’re not on your ship anymore so you’re not my captain,” I snipe and that catches his attention. He perks up and goes to say something smart back but the doors fly open, slamming against the poor walls.

James stays seated albeit ready to jump up if needed. Seeing as he’s playing it cool, I do the same and remain tucked into my bed.

The person who dared interrupt our night is none other than the Commodore. He stands at his full height with a scroll in his hand as he glares at James.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of being granted your presence so late at night, commodore?” James mocks as he watches Steve.

The wigged man says nothing but sends a death glare towards the pirate before looking at me. He takes a step towards me and James makes a clicking noise, telling him to stay put.

“Y/N,” Steve starts as he ignores the subtle warning, “your father has found a way to free you from your deal with this vile creature.”

I glance around him at James who’s smirking to himself and raises one dark brow at me. He’s no longer stretched out like a cat but instead is leaning back against the chair with his head resting on his fist as he watches us.

Turning my attention back to Steve, I ask him to elaborate and elaborate he does.

“You were under duress. You cannot be expected to uphold a deal that you made when you were in fear for your life. Your father and I handled everything, Y/N, all you need to do is say that you were afraid for your life and otherwise would not have made the deal.”

In another life the gut wrenching way that Steve is pleading with me would’ve worked. I would’ve jumped up and ran for him, falling into his arms as I sobbed that I was afraid. I would’ve taken his hand and begged him to save me for the sake of being free from a pirate even if it meant being in debt to him for life.

That is if I hadn’t met James; the man who’s shown my unconditional and undying affection. The man that has sworn to protect me and honor me as if I were his ruling goddess. The man that has seen parts of me that no other man has and the man that I want to know every inch of me, mental and physical.

“Steve, ever the gentleman,” I coo as I push the blankets from my lap and slide off my bed.

“There is but one fault in your proposal,” I state as I softly pad toward the two men, “I was not under duress. I was not afraid for my life by any stretch of the imagination. I was not afraid at all, in fact, I felt the safest I had in years in that moment.”

I can feel the heat of James’ stare on me as I come to stand beside him and continue to tear Steve apart.

“If anything, I was concerned for your life but not afraid. I knew that James would not harm or otherwise act in a way that would scare me. I knew that he would agree to my terms but you,” I point at him and allow my voice to become more harsh, “you were the one I was afraid of. You’ve always been a liability, never quite knowing when you’re going to lash out on those around you. You’ve always freighted me and that night at the bar only solidified my fears that you would cause me harm. Even if my life depended on it, I wouldn’t have agreed to marry you or went back with you that day on the Serpent’s Cry. Quite frankly, Steve, I’m perfectly content being bound to this vile creature.”

James snorts from behind me and wraps an arm around me, tugging me to sit on his lap. Steve is fuming, his face turning red with anger at my lecture and I know he’s plotting both of our demises.

The man beneath me grips my chin and tilts my head down so that he can capture my lips in a heated kiss. My hands fly to tangle into his hair as his tongue swipes at my bottom lip. A moan tumbles from me when the hand gripping my chin slides to cup the back of neck.

“Enough!” Steve’s voice rings out and he storms towards us to rip me away.

The familiar cock of a gun halts him and he frantically looks down to see a readied pistol pointing at him. It had been lying under James’ hat, hidden from plain sight so Steve had no chance to draw his open weapon.

James has the audacity to look bored as he holds the weapon and rubs small circles into my hip with his other hand.

“Out,” he orders in a low rumbling voice.

Steve, however, the oaf of a man takes another step forward and James rolls his eyes.

“Is pain the only way you learn, Commodore? Out before I shoot your cock off.”

Steve scoffs at the crude words and I stifle a giggle while tucking my face into James’ neck. He shudders slightly at the feeling and squeezes my hip.

“Y/N,” Steve tries to appeal to me but I’m not having any of it. I begin to plant wet kisses on James’ neck and nip at the soft skin occasionally. Steve calls to me again and I suck a deep red, nearly purple mark into the pirate’s neck which earns me a throaty groan.

A series of sounds ring out and I jolt away from my haven. First is the sound of Steve stepping forward, a gun shot, a cry of pain, and a thud as Steve falls to the ground. With wide eyes I try to look at him but James catches my face in a tight hold, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“Don't look at him, love. Eyes on me, understood?” He whispers, letting his lips dance over mine and holding my eye contact with a fierce look swirling in his blue eyes.

I manage a small nod and he smiles at me before addressing Steve who’s clutching his leg.

“I warned you and you did not listen. As far as I’m concerned, you are to blame for the state of your leg. Now I suggest you drag your cowardly self out of this room before I do depart your cock from your body as I promised."

Lost in the way his eyes captive me and his words cause a fire to ignite in my body, I don’t hear Steve’s protests that break through the cries of pain. It’s not until James breaks our trance and rolls his eyes that I realize our situation. I still obey James and don’t look by hiding my face in his neck once again. He coos to me to go to my bed and turn away from them as he helps me stand.

“Keep your eyes on the ground for me,” he tells me when my hand slips from his and I cautiously make my way to my bed.

From behind me, I hear James let out an exaggerated sigh and the crackling of leather from him bending down.

“You’ve shot my leg, how am I to be expected to leave?” Steve hisses through the agonizing pain.

“Drag yourself like the worm you are. It's none of my concern how you choose to obey my command."

“I will not leave her alone with such a demonic savage like yourself.”

There’s a pause, a tension filled pause as I assume James debates what to do. However his next words are not exactly what I was expecting.

“Pain doesn't seem to be a strong enough deterrent for you, Commodore. Remember; you are to blame for your current situation,” he huffs as he yanks Steve up and drops him into the chair we’d been sitting in.

“Love hand me the sheet,” he says to me without looking.

I quickly bundle up the item he’s asking for and toss it to him. I want to ask what he’s planning but it becomes clear when he starts to wrap it around Steve.

“Since you refuse to leave her alone with such a demonic savage, as you put it so beautifully, you’ll have to watch her damnation.”

Steve lets out a roar of protest and it met with a pistol pressed under his jaw.

“You were told to leave and you did not. Seeing her defiled and ravished as she deserves is a fitting punishment. I think this is preferable to death but I am not the true judge. Love?”

The nickname catches me off guard and my eyes dart between them but it’s the stormy eyes of James that are given my full attention.

“What do you think? Should I grant him mercy and kill him before you take my cock? Or should he watch as I take what he's desired for years?"

As I fail to answer, James adds, "I will only do this if this is what you want. If not, I’m more than happy to show him just how acquainted with the devil I am.”

Words escape me and I just nod.

Apparently that’s not good enough.

“Use your words love. Tell us what you want.”

“I…fuck,” I mumble under my breath and James’ smirk spreads across his face. He knows that I want this, that I want nothing more than for him to finally take me even if it means Steve is forced to watch.

“I don’t think the Commodore heard you. Louder.”

“Yes. I want this. I want you. I want you to take me.”

James cocks a brow at Steve with a sinister smirk, “it appears that your pure angel wants me to defile her while you watch.”

The tied up man jerks forward with a threat on his lips and james lets out a terrifying laugh. He ignores the protests and calls me over with the hook of his finger. My body is trembling as I let my feet touch the ground and nearly stumble as I try to walk. Steve must think it’s out of fear but my captain knows it’s due to anticipation.

I stop at his side and James draws away from the injured man to wrap an arm around me. Pulling me in front of him, my back is to his chest and I’m facing Steve. James keeps his gun pointed at him while bending his head to my ear and whispering to me.

“You tell me when you want to stop, understood?“ he tells me in a voice so low I almost don’t hear him. When I don’t acknowledge his statement, he squeezes my hip with his free hand and repeats it.

Breathlessly I agree, “Yes, please James. I need you.”

He nudges my legs apart and drifts his hand from my hip to my core, pulling up my night dress in the process. My head lolls back, falling onto his shoulder and he captures my lips in a searing kiss. Moans and sighs fall without hesitation as he begins to run firm but slow circles into the bundle of nerves that only he can seem to find. His name becomes a chorus that is caught between our lips as the pressure builds within my core. He releases my lips and lets me sing my song for Steve to hear clearly. I feel him smile against my temple as I grow louder and louder. Just as I’m about reach my climax, he pulls his hand away and I nearly cry. A few tears leak from my eyes and he coos sweetly to me.

“Shhhhh love, I promised to defile you and I intend to do that. Lean forward and put your hands on his shoulders.”

“James,” I whimper when I feel him back away.

“Do as you’re told.”

The sounds of his belt and pants dropping silences me. I lean forward and with hazy eyes, look Steve straight on as my hands grip his shoulders. There’s a fire burning in his light eyes and I’ve come to know what it truly is. He can try to deny it but we all know watching me is causing him to grow hard and angry.

“Y/N,” his voice breaks as he whispers my name and I blink hard trying to look at him.

The heavy heat of James behind me distracts me and I drop my head at the feeling of him rutting against me.

He taunts Steve with cruel words as he drags the head of his cock through my folds and pulls wanton moans from my swollen lips.

“James,” I plead, “please.”

He coos mockingly as he lines himself up.

“Louder, my love. I don’t think your fiancé heard you.”

“He’s not my fiancé,” I grit out angrily but it falls flat when he pushes his entire length inside of me. It turns into a wince and pained moan but he doesn’t pull out. He keeps it there, watching me struggle with the pain that morphs into blinding pleasure. Only when I push back against him does he withdraws a few inches but keeps most of his length inside me as he starts to rock his hips into me. He’s slow and deliberate at first, focusing on pulling the loudest and most embarrassing moans he can from me but as his own body betrays him, his hips increase their pace.

Below me Steve is a mess. His breathing is ragged and the color is draining from his face as the blood loss becomes too much. I can’t bare to look at him and James must see that in the way I keep my head bent down. A sharp tug on my hair forces my head up and I see the devastation written lines on his face. The cold barrel on a gun rubs against my scalp and it dawns on me that the hand that’s in my hair is holding the gun. He grunts as he pumps his dick into me and I cry out as pleasure washes over me. He keeps one hand coiled into my hair as the other slips to my core, rubbing me and drawing my climax from me.

James tugs me up against his chest and I tilt my head back to rest against his shoulder as we continue to move against each other. His cock drags against my walls in a nearly painful way but I don't care. I’m pulsing around him and pleading with him to let go with me. As my eyes flutter shut from the white hot pleasure, he tugs my hair again and demands I look at Steve.

“Look at the Commodore, love. Look at what just watching you does to him,” he mumbles against the skin of my neck. My eyes are heavy and it’s a struggle to do as I’m told but I do and it earns me my climax.

James thrusts up hard one final time and we’re both moaning as I finish. He’s not far behind and groans out my name as he releases his hot seed into me. We’re a panting mess as he slows and eventually stops. He loosens his grip on my hair with a sweet kiss to my temple and whispers praise into my ear.

Intertwined in those sweet phrases is a promise and at first I think it’s for me. Only when the second shot of the night rings out do I realize that it was intended for Steve.

“I hope for your sake that your false god takes pity on you and allows you to die before morning.”

With that he tucks himself back into his pants and lifts me into his arms. My final memory of commodore will be blurred in pleasure and blood but I don’t care. He can bleed out for all I care after he dared to lay a hand on me and insult the man I love.

[inavagrant-a]

@starsdescent said:

❛ is this seat taken? sorry, it’s a bit crowded here. ❜ / lumi.....

Seldom are the times that Lumine decides to indulge in him in a manner she would usually do so behind closed doors, away from the peering eyes of the world, but when she does Tetsuya has to make a conscious fight against a tickling urge to laugh. Why, he can count the many times she would allow herself to be selfish in public in a single hand and when she does it is always in something, Tetsuya would deem, as a little spectacle for him specifically. Or at least he finds it rather humorous. It is so ridiculously endearing, it adds to her charm he supposes, he'll give her that. It adds to her charm and it provides him with a little source of entertainment. It's no secret to neither of them that Lumine's favorite spot to sit is on his lap, time and time again she does it when it's just them out and about or in her humble abode of a realm that she's got in that teapot of hers. She was so bold as to claim his lap her own personal favorite spot to the point where she just does it without consulting with him first and of course he allows her to get away with such a thing. Who is he to deny his darling something such as that? Besides, he gets to have her close, so truthfully, who's benefiting off of her liking for sitting on his lap. Tetsuya would say it's him of course.

To her credit the bar is rather full, at least if one doesn't take the time to scan it properly. There's a couple of empty stray chairs here and about that she could use and he's wondering if she's noticed them or not. Lumine is quite observant so there is simply no way she hasn't caught wind of them, he's most certainly not about to bring them up though. "You mean the seat that's specifically reserved just for you?" He rewords her question in a way that is more appropriate. Nobody has rights to his lap, only she does, she should be thankful. What a lucky girl she is. It is a privilege after all, not a right

His face threatens to betray him, the bubbling of contained laugher brewing within him at why she simply does not say that she just wants to sit on his lap. So, he brings his hand over his mouth, as if to ponder her question when there's no need to. The knowing look on his eyes more than likely giving him away already. His problem is that his face will tell you before his words do, it's still a work in progress, however he has come to note that this only tends to happen in situations where he's being... genuine. In situations where it is required for him to act a certain part because of circumstance, he can pull the act. A class act even, worthier than any seasoned actor with countless of awards for notches on their belt. (Give him his Oscar, Leonardo DiCaprio who? Robert De Niro where?). Though that is neither here or there for with an exhale he's able to simply chuckle that laughter off before nodding his head to her, abiding to what she desires even if she did go about it in such a silly way. Almost like she's embarrassed to just ask him. He makes a mental note to do something about this unsolicited shame of hers that's rather loud in public... his darling doesn't even know the taste of shame when they're tangled up in the sheets of her bed. She probably even forgets that embarrassment and shame are a thing. Perhaps a little project for him to keep himself pleasantly entertained with later. He folds the idea as if it's a little note and tucks it away inside that brain of his.

"Go ahead darling." He grants her request with a well-controlled smile, a small nod of his head. "Your throne awaits," he can't help himself but to tease much to her chagrin more than likely as she takes her seat upon his lap, making herself comfortable. Once she has done so, Tetsuya, who arguably may lack far too much of the sense of shame, wraps his arms around her, embracing her. Does he care that he lacks shame? No, of course not. He believes that makes him a far more tasteful individual by default, compared to the common people anyway. "Next time," he begins softly against her ear, "just say you want to sit on my lap. There's nothing to be embarrassed about, okay?" As if to motivate her further he presses a soft kiss upon her shoulder to seal his point.

[pokelec]

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Lost Tracks of Time, Chapter 1

Summary: Ingo woke up in a strange world with almost no memories of who he is or what his past is. What he does know is: his name is Ingo, he has a mission he needs to carry out, and he was definitely a human and not a Sneasel. He meets a strange wanderer named Sneasler who brings him to the Pearl Guild, and the two eventually come across an unusual rescue request.

Author’s note: This is my first time writing for Ingo and Emmet, so forgive me if their dialogue sounds off. This is basically Pokemon Mystery Dungeon with heavy, heavy influence from Pokemon Legends Arceus. I’m not sure if I’ll expand on this AU in the future, but I’m happy with what I made here.

Massive, massive credit to @furiouskettle/@crankyteapot for their design of Ingo as Husuian Sneasel and Emmet as Johtoian Sneasel, as well as inspiring me to write this. This one shot became much, much longer than I anticipated (4,500+ words).

(And just in case: Shippers, do not interact)

Ingo didn’t remember waking up, nor did he remember going to sleep. He simply found himself in an area completed filled with light. There was no ground below him, and he wasn’t entirely sure which way was up. The lights shifted from reds, oranges, and yellows to greens, blues, and violets and back. Despite being in a world made of light, Ingo’s eyes weren’t hurting from trying to look around, which perplexed him.

“Greetings, Human. Welcome to my realm. What is thy name?” A voice spoke from all directions. It reverberated in Ingo’s head.

He was apprehensive about what possible being would be concerned with him, but he still had to be polite. “Good day. I’m Warden Ingo.”

“Ingo, thou shalt soon find thyself in a world strange to thee. My mission for thou is–”

***

Ingo once again woke up without remembering how he went to sleep. The first thing he noticed this time was his own body shivering inside his coat. The ground had returned as well. His eyes had not opened yet, but he already noticed the lack of colorful lights in his surroundings. In fact, it seemed like something provided him shade.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” The voice distinctly came from above him. He decided to open his eyes and found a Sneasler towering over him. She carried a large woven basket on her back. “Can you stand?”

“Can I?” Ingo asked. He sat up to prepare himself and immediately realized something was amiss. It was his coat. The sleeves – once tailored to his arms, then shredded from use – scrunched up on his arms like a child wearing the jackets of their parents. When he tried to push up his sleeves, he found another thing unusual: he was supposed to have hands but instead found two large, curved claws. The differences soon piled up as he stood up. White fur covered his body. His coat dragged on the snow-covered ground as though his body shrunk. His feet were clawed as well. His hat refused to fit snuggly on his head, as it bent his left ear (only the left ear).

“Am I a Sneasel?” Ingo asked. “Why am I a Sneasel?! I’m a human… or I think I am.”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure humans do not look like Sneasels,” Sneasler said. “Look, Sneasel-“

“My name is Ingo.”

“Ingo. Okay. Ingo, we can talk all day about you being a human or a Sneasel, but I’d rather not do it out here.”

Sneasler gestured to the area behind her, and Ingo realized why he was still shivering. The two stood on what Ingo assumed to be a mountain cliff. Fog or clouds obscured the bottom of the mountain, giving an impression of height that could make an acrophobe dizzy.

“How did you find me up here?” Ingo asked.

“When everything is white, someone wearing black clothing is going to stand out. Look, do you want to stay out here, or do you want to get to somewhere a little more hospitable?”

“Where did you have in mind?”

“The Pearl Guild.”

Ingo’s heart jumped, not that he knew why. “Let’s set that as our destination then!” He pointed to the ground and at Sneasler. “All aboard!”

Sneasler raised an eyebrow. “Alright, weirdo, get in the basket.”

***

“You don’t remember anything?” Sneasler asked. She scaled down the mountain with practiced claws and Ingo sitting in her basket. “Then how do you know you’re a human?”

“It’s hard to explain. I can just feel it,” Ingo said from within the basket on Sneasler’s back. His body was curled up inside like a cat pokemon, his coat acting as blanket and jacket simultaneously. He held the cap in his hands. His claws grazed over the blue-and-white badge, catching the various scratches it accumulated from past battles forgotten. “And look at my uniform! What pokemon would wear this?”

“Okay, that’s a fair point. Wait, uniform? Do humans usually wear that?”

“…I cannot say for certain.” Ingo mused over the badge. A uniform implied multiple people wearing the same outfit, but Ingo felt like this was not quite accurate. Why? At least one person wore something similar, right? “If I may ask, why are you scaling the mountain? I saw multiple paths around. Surely a different track would be more efficient?”

“Nope. They all lead to the Coronet Mountain mystery dungeon.”

“Mystery… dungeon?”

“Oh boy...” Sneasler sighed to herself. “Yeah, definitely a good thing I found you before you did something stupid. Long story short, they’re weird areas where the layout is constantly changing and are pretty much always filled with pokemon way too eager for a battle.”

“What?! How is anyone meant to traverse anywhere efficiently?”

“Well, they’re not everywhere, thankfully, but a lot of pokemon still get lost in them. That’s what the rescue teams and the guilds are for.”

“Are you in one of these guilds? Is that why we’re going to the “Pearl Guild”?”

“Nah, guild work isn’t for me. I’m just a wanderer. And I’m just bringing you to Pearl because it’s the closest one, and I guess they can help you too.”

“Help with what?”

“I dunno. Living. Figuring out if you’re a human or a Sneasel that got hit with one too many Confuse Rays. Give you purpose in life, if you want. Something like that.”

“Purpose…” Ingo rolled up one of his sleeves. On his wrist was the only other belonging that came with him into this world. A white bracelet was adorned with gold-colored rings and a black square (Ingo wanted to call it a “screen” for some reason) with cracks all over. Other than the cracked “screen”, the bracelet was completely free of damages and blemishes.

***

“We’re here.” Sneasler had finished scaling the mountain some time ago, but she stopped for a break for the first time during the trip.

Ingo opened the top of Sneasler’s basket and stood up, nearly causing Sneasler to topple over from the shift in weight. “This is our route terminus?” he asked, gazing up at the building in front of them.

“I’ll pretend to understand that and say yes.”

The two stood in front of a building shaped after a pink dragon-like pokemon. A large doorway was affixed to the stone effigy’s stomach, its claws holding the door. The pokemon-shaped decoration was only the front of a more spacious building. Surrounding the central building were several beige-and-pink tents just large enough to hold a couple pokemon (or a couple humans).

The eyes of the pokemon-shaped building lit up. “The guest is… Lady Sneasler! The guest is Lady Sneasler!” A voice shouted from the head of the beast-building. The eyes faded, then the door opened.

“Break’s over.” Sneasler walked inside, dragging along with her the weird Sneasel who once again retreated into her basket.

Inside the basket, Ingo could see how the inside of the building was the opposite of the outside. Where the surroundings were cold and monotone from the snow, the inside glowed with warmth and greenery. Grass covered the ground, and trees threatened to raise the roof. It seemed impractical to have all the plants inside, but he guessed it ensured they would survive year-round.

Sneasler stopped walking, and Ingo heard knocking. “Yo, it’s me,” Sneasler said. Then Ingo heard a large door open.

“Lady Sneasler, to what do we owe the pleasure of having a Noble in our presence?” A pokemon with a snooty voice asked.

“Greetings, Irida, Chatot,” Sneasler said. “I got a basket case for you.” She then grabs her basket, flips it over her head, and opens it upside-down, making Ingo fall out as a crumbled ball of dizzied Sneasel.

Two pokemon came closer to Ingo, both visibly confused over what they are seeing. One was a Glaceon with shortened teal crests hanging off her head and pink moon-shaped crown. The other was a Chatot with a coat so fluffy that his silhouette could be mistaken for a Honchcrow’s.

“Uh, hello?” The Glaceon had the voice of a young woman. “Lady Sneasler, who is this?”

Ingo jumped to his feet. “Greetings. My name is Ingo. You must be the Pearl Clan leader?” He pointed at Glaceon.

“”Pearl Clan”?” The Glaceon said.

“What am I saying? I meant to say Pearl Guild leader. You must be the Pearl Guild leader.”

“That is correct… You may call me Irida. And this is my assistant, Chatot.”

“If I may ask, what is your business here?” Chatot asked. He stepped in front of Irida.

“I found him in the mountains,” Sneasler said. “I can’t stay around, so maybe you can take care of him.”

“Is that so….” Chatot said. “Well, anything for you, Lady Sneasler.”

“Cool. See ya later, weirdo.” With nary a moment of goodbyes, Sneasler exited the room.

“Ah, Lady Sneasler, in a hurry as always,” Chatot remarked.

“”Take care of”, huh? I think I know what she means,” Irida said. “Ingo, how familiar are you with rescue teams?”

***

“You must pick a partner for your team eventually, Ingo!” Chatot screeched so loud that it echoed in the Pearl Guild’s halls.

“I am still looking!” Ingo said.

Chatot sighed. “Look, I’m tired of this conversation, and I’m sure you are, too. If you don’t find a partner by the end of the week, Irida will assign one to you. That is final.” He then retreated back to Irida’s office, closing the door in front of Ingo’s face.

Ingo sighed and looked at the badge pinned on his coat. The bead in the center signified his gold rank as a pokemon rescuer. Despite the symbol of accomplishment and all the help he has done for others, something was still missing. For one, he was no step closer to finding out the reason he was sent to this world. It did not help that Ingo has been completely unable to find a partner that would get along with him. Even though he tried to be as friendly as possible, something about him repelled potential partners. It could be his lack of facial expression, or maybe it was the aura about him, though he tried to explain often how sincere and happy he was about his job as a rescuer. Even worse, it seemed like no other pokemon meshed with his fighting style. While he was surrounded by other pokemon who want to protect others, he felt alone.

Ingo readjusted his coat and set his route to the job bulletin board. If he could not progress on his mystery mission, he could at least throw himself into work. But a familiar face stopped him in his tracks.

“Sup, Weirdo.” Sneasler waved to Ingo.

“Lady Sneasler? What are you doing here?”

She shrugged. “Just passing through. Any of these look good for you?”

Ingo stepped next to Sneasler to check all the requests. They were mostly picked over, leaving requests in areas that have either very strong or very weak pokemon. Ingo frowned harder than usual. Why did the others always leave the “easy” requests? They are still important, after all. That said, one request in particular caught Ingo’s eye.

“I am Emmet. I am a Sneasel. I was investigating the Cobalt Volcano when I was injured. I am at a dead end. Send assistance.”

Ingo took the paper with the rescue request. Sneasler looked over Ingo’s head to read the paper.

“Cobalt Volcano?” Sneasler asked. “Don’t tell me you’re actually thinking of going there.”

“I am. Is something wrong with that?”

“You’re only a gold rank, and this is a five-star mission. I know you don’t work with anyone, so you’d have to be suicidal to go there on your own.”

“If you’re concerned for my safety, why not accompany me on this trip?” Ingo hadn’t travelled with Sneasler since they first met, and he never saw her battle.

“Ha! You know what, why not? I haven’t been over there in a while. You might wanna ditch the coat, though. You dragging it around might catch it on fire.”

Ingo took that as the signal to finish his preparations. The tent that Ingo called his room was rather bare, at least compared to the other guild members. In the center of the room were two haybeds. While both beds were tidy, one was completely untouched. Besides a hearth for warmth, a basket for item storage, and pot of water for hydration, the only notable thing about Ingo’s room was a bulletin board – one smaller than the one used for rescue jobs – dotted with scrap papers of notes and pages torn from books. It wasn’t much, but it was something to help him get some sense of accomplishment in finding out his mission, whatever it was. Ingo begrudgingly left his coat on his bed and repined his badge to his hat.

With one last check in his satchel, Ingo pointed forwards with one hand and at the ground with the other. “Safety checks complete. All aboard for Cobalt Volcano!”

***

It was at this point that Ingo learned that Sneasler’s title as a Noble was not just for show. One swipe from her claws were enough to down most of the pokemon that came across their path. If she wasn’t poisoning everyone with Dire Claw, she decimated them with Shadow Claw and Drain Punch. He admired her skills and even found himself wishing to battle her. That would have to wait for another time, Ingo told himself. He could not let himself derail from the mission.

It was one dungeon floor after another, encountering rock-type and fire-type pokemon every time. Ingo thanked himself for listening to Sneasler’s suggestion and left behind his coat, even if it hurt to leave it at his station. As they traversed to lower floors, the ground burnt Ingo’s feet. It was not his first time investigating a singeing hot dungeon, but the difficult battles wore him down as the caverns grew warmer. Them being no less than 10 feet away from lava at any given time did not help matters.

Ingo and Sneasler then found a singular cavern lacking exposed lava. Stalagmites lined the floor, and the ceiling was high enough to be obscured by shadows.

“Are we already at the end?” Ingo asked. “This is the 21stfloor. Would a five-star difficulty dungeon be that brief?”

“Yes, this is it, but I would like to remind you that almost all the pokemon we faced were twice as strong as you.” Sneasler wiped her face and flicked away the sweat. “I still don’t get why you chose this mission.”

Ingo grimaced and fidgeted with his cap. “I’m not sure myself. It was spur of the moment, like… something within me told me to choose it.”

“Well, let’s see if Emmet is still around.” Sneasler began walking, expecting Ingo to continue following, but he instead rushed ahead.

Not even Ingo knew why he ran at full steam. His heart was racing along with his feet. What possessed him? He considered if he had a heat stroke, given that the cave felt cooler than the previous 20 floors.

He saw something red and feather-shaped behind a stalagmite. That had to be their client. “Greetings! We are a rescue team and here to help.”

Ingo walked around the pillar and found the Sneasel. His black fur blended in well to the dark-colored, but the yellow gems and red feather on his right ear helped him stand out. He was holding his stomach and curled up like someone kicked him. Upon closer inspection, patches of fur were missing, and his skin was charred.

“Hi. I am Emmet. I have several burns,” the Sneasel said that with a wide smile on his face.

“I can see that,” Sneasler said, coming up from behind Ingo while grabbing something from her basket. “Wait, you’re an ice type Sneasel! How are you not dead yet??”

“I have no idea. I lost some battles. The pokemon were very strong, but I was left here,” Emmet looked up at Ingo’s black cap, and his eyes widened for a moment.

“Is something wrong?” Ingo asked.

“Nothing is wrong. I just think I have seen that hat before.”

“…Is that so?”

“Here, eat this.” Sneasler interrupted the two. “Oran berry and rawst berry. One for your burn, one for strength.” She hands the berries to Emmet, who eats them with vigor.

Something brightly colored caught Ingo’s eye. He walked a few feet away from the other two to pick up what looked like a white backpack hidden between stalagmites. As he grabbed it, the fabric unfolded, dropping a white cap onto the ground and revealing the item as a long white-and-brown coat.

“Be careful with that!” Emmet said, his smile remaining though his voice sounded almost angry. “I had to take off my uniform, but that is mine. Don’t drop it.”

Ingo stared at the coat in disbelief. Other than it being white and in better condition, it was identical to his. It was even the same size. He draped the coat on Emmet’s body and grabbed the white cap. Ingo then took off his own cap and held them next to each other.

Emmet watched as the other Sneasel stared at the hats and then turned the fronts to face him. Emmet’s eyes widened again and almost sparkled. His smile widened even further. Suddenly the other Sneasel’s long face looked very familiar.

“Ingo?”

Ingo, who had been staring at the hats, looked up again at the Sneasel. His heart knew something he didn’t, but hearing that voice say his name made his head catch up. His appearance – their appearances – had changed, but he knew that smile. He knew those eyes. Before, ‘Emmet’ was just a word to refer to their client with. Now it had a different meaning.

Ingo smiled. “Emmet!”

Emmet leaped and tackled Ingo, his coat and their hats thrown to the side. Emmet wrapped his arms around Ingo. Ingo was too shocked to do the same.

“I found you! I finally found you!” Emmet said. His smile was softer now.

”You’ve been looking for me?” Ingo asked. Tears fell onto the floor and sizzled into steam.

Sneasler, who took a step back from the other two a moment ago, watched on with a baffled expression. “You two know each other?”

“Lady Sneasler, Emmet is my twin brother,” Ingo said.

“Well, isn’t this sweet?” a new voice pops in. The twins and Sneasler watch 6 Magmars and a Magmortar jump from the shadows to surround them.

“Yep, knew something was off here,” Sneasler said mostly to herself.

“We meet again,” Emmet said while standing back up. He and Ingo picked up and wiped down their respective caps. “You are here for a rematch.”

“You sound pretty confident for someone who nearly died last time,” one of the Magmars said.

“What, you couldn’t kill one ice-type Sneasel?” Sneasler asked while smirking.

“No, we just pitied him,” Magmortar said. “But I see he still has that stupid smile on his face. I’ll burn it clean off this time.” Magmortar raised an arm skywards and released a blast of fire. Stalactites fell, and cracks in the cavern opened up and released steam that threatened to burn all the non-fire types in the room.

“Emmet, stay between me and Ingo!” Sneasler already took her fighting stance. She looked at all the Magmars and decided it would be better for her to take them out. Of course, this plan assumed Ingo would take a defensive position until the Magmars were dealt with.

Instead, Ingo Bulked Up and stared up at the Magmortar. Emmet already used Hone Claws, and he was back-to-back with his brother. They pointed to Magmortar and tipped their hats at the same time, sufficiently annoying the larger pokemon.

“I’ll punch that damn smile off your face!” Magmortar reeled back his arm, as his hand engulfed in flames. His Flame Punch was aimed at Emmet, but Ingo stepped in front and took the hit straight in his stomach.

“Ingo!” Emmet watched his brother get sent flying from the punch, though he quickly got back up once his footing regained stability.

“Don’t try to be a hero, little Sneasel,” Magmortar said. He started preparing another Fire Punch when Ingo’s claws got drenched in poison and ran towards Magmortar. Both Fire Punch and Poison Jab landed on their respective targets, but Magmortar felt an uneasy queasiness afterwards. He got poisoned. How dare some lowlifes poison him.

Ingo wiped off cinders from his cheek. He looked around to see where Emmet was but could not find him. He worried that his brother was cornered until he felt rumbling under the ground.

Emmet leaped up from below the ground and barreled himself at Magmortar, knocking him down. As soon as Magmortar stood back up and realized what happened, Emmet was already gone again. He tried to look around and see where the Sneasel would pop up but was distracted by a rumbling above him, followed by several stalactites crashing down from the ceiling. Though most of the rocks missed, some managed to hit him. He saw Ingo using Rock Smash again to bring down more stalactites. Before Magmortar could Flamethrow him, Emmet leaped from the ground directly below him, making him fall.

Enraged, he sharply inhaled, and the fire inside his body burned hotter. Magmortar raised both arms for double Flamethrowers and swept the area, burning Ingo and grazing over Sneasler, who was fighting two Magmars at once.

Ingo’s breath grew heavy. He knew he was reaching his limit, and his opponent knew it, too. With a sick grin, Magmortar glowed and blasted psychic energy at Ingo. Ingo wouldn’t be able to dodge, so he braced for impact. The impact of a super-effective Psychic never came, as Emmet had popped out from the ground to neutralize the hit. Ingo indulged in a sigh of relief.

“We can finish this with one coordinated blow,” Ingo said to Emmet. “Are you ready?”

“Ready!” said Emmet.

“Full speed ahead, no brakes!” Ingo and Emmet shouted at the same time. Emmet prepared and shot out a Dark Pulse at Magmortar. Ingo ran ahead, claws drenched in toxins for one last Poison Jab. The Sneasels’ assessment that Magmortar was almost finished was correct, as he could not do much except wait for the attacks to hit. Between the poison and darkness incarnate, the fiery boss pokemon could take no more and fainted on contact.

Sneasler looked at the fruits of her battle, watching all six Magmars rest unconscious on the ground. She turned around to finally help fight Magmortar but found he was already defeated. She didn’t even hear any conversation or brainstorming of tactics from the two Sneasels during the battle, yet they moved as in-sync as any professional rescue team. The furrowed her brow in disbelief and confusion.

“We won. You were verrrry strong. We should battle again sometime,” Emmet said to the knocked out pokemon around him, readjusting his cap and putting on his white coat.

“Not today. This train has to depart,” Ingo said while grabbing Emmet by the coat collar and dragging him to Sneasler. “Thank you for today, Lady Sneasler. Had you not assisted me, Emmet and I may not have reunited.”

“You can thank me when we’re back at the guild. Speaking of which…” Sneasler took off her basket and placed it in front of her. "Get in the damn basket, weirdos. I can carry both of you; you two look exhausted.”

“It was a fun battle!” said Emmet.

“You were fighting for your life. How are you so casual about this?”

“Serious battles are the most fun ones.”

“Yes, but it’s time to go back to the station.” Ingo opened the top of the basket and climbed in. “All aboard!”

“…Dear Arceus, give me Strength,” Sneasler said under her breath.

***

It was nighttime, and Ingo and Emmet were inside Ingo’s Pearl Guild tent. Sneasler left them to take care of noble pokemon duties, and Emmet was allowed to stay the night, even though he had yet to join the guild officially. Ingo dawned his coat, matching Emmet once more. Emmet’s burn wounds healed, but his fur had rough patches from his injuries. Both of them stood in front of Ingo’s makeshift investigation board.

“You lost your memory?” Emmet asked.

“I believe so,” Ingo said. “I remember being a human, but beyond that, I don’t have much to go off. I say things I don’t fully know the meaning of, which is somewhat upsetting.”

“So we’re in the same car. I remember being a human. I remember that I needed to look for my brother. I have almost nothing else otherwise.”

The two stepped aside and looked into Ingo’s pot of water. The water surface stilled enough for the two to use it as a mirror.

“I think we used to share the same face,” Ingo said. “But not anymore. Bravo for recognizing me, Emmet!”

“I didn’t at first. The hats helped a lot. …I am so happy to see you, Ingo.” Emmet rubbed his eyes and found liquid on his claws. “I don’t remember how long it took, but I must have been searching for a long time.”

“I’m… I’m truly happy to see you, too.” Ingo gave Emmet a smile. “But I don’t think we can relax. We still don’t know why I was sent here – and why you’re here, too, for that matter. This is my only clue.” Ingo took off the white-and-gold bracelet and handed it to Emmet. “Do you have any ideas about this?”

Emmet rotated the bracelet around over and over. He even held it closer to his eyes, searching for symbols or writing that could indicate anything helpful. “…I got nothing. But I will help you, no matter what. I want to know who took you from me and hold them accountable.” He handed Ingo back the bracelet.

“That’s if someone sent me here on purpose. I just hope no one else has gone through what I did. But we can continue investigating in the morning! If not, we can rescue lost pokemon or capture outlaws.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“Oh, that reminds me. I need to talk to Irida and Chatot.”

***

The following morning, the members of the Pearl Guild gathered in neat lines at the assembly hall. Irida and Chatot stood at the very front, the latter holding a sheet of paper.

“Good day, everyone!” Irida said. “First, we have a new member we need to introduce. Would our new guild member and his teammate please come up to introduce themselves?”

From the small crowd, Ingo and Emmet went around and seemed to march to the front. Irida noticed they seemed to walk in sync.

“I am Emmet. I am Ingo’s brother. Follow the rules. Aim for victory!” Emmet made sure his smile was wide for his audience and saluted them.

“It’s good to meet you, Emmet,” Irida said, visibly taken aback. “Would you like to tell us what your team name is?”

“With pleasure!” Ingo said.

“We are…” Ingo and Emmet stood back-to-back. They both pointed to the rest of the Pearl Guild and pointed to the ground with their other hands. “Team Conductors!”

And thus, the twins were reunited.

[agaypanic]

maybe a malcom x reader where the reader and him are academic rivals and they have a playful banter and then develop feelings for each other and malcolm gets jealous and they have a fight turned kiss???

The Couple Project (Malcolm Wilkerson X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Y/n L/n and Malcolm Wilkerson get paired for a project where they have to act like a couple for three weeks. What happens when someone gets in the way, and when feelings start to change?

A/N: Three things: One, as I was writing this, I realized there wasn’t really any academic rivalry. Two, I’ve also realized that I use Reese whenever Malcolm has to get jealous. It’s probably feeling overused, but it’s easier to use Reese than make up a new character, plus there’s some more drama lol and three, this is my longest non-series fic rn, so that’s pretty cool

***

“What did you get?” Y/n whispered to her desk mate, Malcolm Wilkerson. He smirked as he showed his paper, his score marked in red ink.

“Fifty-one out of fifty. How about you?” Y/n smiled, turning her paper around.

“Fifty-two out of fifty.” Malcolm’s smirk dropped, which made Y/n giggle. “I guess Ms. Smith liked my extra credit answer better.”

“How could she have liked yours better? Mine was great.” Malcolm asked as the class packed up, close to the end of class.

“Because I’m not a jackass, Malcolm.”

“Oh, okay then.” He laughed sarcastically as the two walked out of the classroom. “Are you coming to math club after school?”

“Of course,” Y/n said. “Who else is gonna help you with your times tables?”

“Very funny. But before you help me, who’s gonna help you with your times tables?” Malcolm smirked, and Y/n smiled softly.

“Ready for Williams?” 

“Never have been, never will be.” Yet he still opened the door to Mrs. Williams’ class and looked at Y/n expectantly, waiting for her to walk in. Y/n simply smiled at him.

“Ladies first.” She gestured for him to walk into the class.

“Age before beauty.”

“Very funny.” Y/n finally walked in but looked back at Malcolm for a quick moment. “But you’re older than me, dumbass.”

Everyone walked to their assigned seats and waited for Williams to start the lecture.

“Good afternoon, class.” The lady soon said. The class murmured a response to her. “So, as you all know, in this class, you’ll have to put your life and childcare skills to the test. Your final is gonna be taking care of a robot baby for a month. Lucky for you, that won’t be for a while. We’ve already learned how to take care of things like finances, and now, we’re gonna focus on relationships.”

Mrs. Williams stands up from her desk and makes her way around it, holding up a piece of paper.

“I’ve assigned you all partners. When your names are called, pair up. Then you can all sit down with your partner when I’m done.”

It was no surprise to anyone that Y/n and Malcolm were paired together. Despite rivaling each other for the highest grade point average, they worked well together. They could provide results that teachers expected. What teacher wouldn’t want great work?

“Now,” Mrs. Williams continued after everyone was seated by their partner, “most children come from couples. You and your partner will be like a couple for the rest of the semester.”

The class groaned. Y/n scoffed.

“Will I ever get a break from you, Malcolm?” She asked sarcastically.

“Till death do we part, dear.” He rolled his eyes, but a small smile still graced his lips.

“Calm down.” Mrs. Williams quieted the class. “If you have such a problem with your partner, you can see me after class. On to the assignment. This will be a three-week-long project. You will all have a checklist of things you must complete at the end of those three weeks, domestic activities. This’ll be a way to help you get familiar with your partner so you both can successfully care for your baby when you have your final.”

She then passed out a paper to every student. The paper had a list of different activities with boxes next to them to be completed.

“You can use the rest of the class period to plan things out with your partner. When you finish an activity, check the box and write down the date you did the activity.” Mrs. Williams then went to sit at her desk, allowing the students to converse.

“Go for a walk with your partner.” Y/n read boredly from the top of the list.

“Have an out-of-home date, such as going to the movies.” Malcolm continued with the same tone.

“Cook a meal for your partner. Damn, I wish Reese was my partner. I could eat his food forever.” Y/n’s mind went to when she was invited over for a different project she was paired with Malcolm for. She was going to go home when Reese started serving dinner, and the family insisted that she stay to eat.

“Wanna come over after math club? I don’t have the car, so we can do that walk.” Malcolm skimmed the rest of the paper before folding it up and putting it in his pocket. He looked at Y/n, waiting for a response.

“Sure.” Y/n put her paper in a folder and looked at Malcolm. “We could watch a movie, get the at-home date out of the way.”

“F/M?”

“You know it.”

***

Go For a Walk With Your Partner

“Herkabe’s so annoying. Makes me want to quit the club.” Y/n groaned as she and Malcolm walked off school property and towards his house.

“He’d probably hunt you down.” Malcolm smiled, but the grin went away at the thought of the guy. “Besides, you can’t leave. You’re the only other normal person in there.”

“Oh, you’re far from normal, Malcolm. For starters, you have that big head of yours.” Y/n laughed as she watched Malcolm roll his eyes.

“It’s because my brain’s bigger than yours.”

“Or because you have more air in your head.” Y/n smiled fondly. “Wow, it’s like we really are married.”

“Woohoo,” Malcolm said sarcastically before getting slightly serious as they neared his property. It was clear they were close because of the dead grass that covered his lawn. “If I’m being honest, there’s no one else I’d rather be fake married to.”

“Aw. I didn’t know you were capable of being this sweet.”

***

Have an at Home Date Activity

“Hurry up. I wanna start the movie.”

“Y/n, I’m making popcorn. You know how remotes work; just start it.”

“I can’t start it until you’re sitting down.” 

“Why not?”

“Because I’m being polite.”

“Polite my ass,” Malcolm grumbled as he finally made his way to the living room with a big bowl of popcorn. He sat down, placing the bowl between him and Y/n.

“I heard that.” Y/n gave him a look as she finally started the movie.

“With your big ears, I’d be surprised if you didn’t.” She playfully smacked his arm before settling into the couch cushions.

It wasn’t long until Y/n shivered, a chill having touched her neck and run down her spine. She reached for some popcorn to cover up the reaction, but Malcolm had noticed. He’d seen the movie playing so many times that he didn’t feel the need to concentrate too hard on it.

Without a second thought, he grabbed a blanket that lay along the back of the couch and put it on their laps, putting the popcorn bowl over the blanket so they still had access. He didn’t say anything about it, and neither did Y/n. They just kept watching the movie.

Eventually, they had run out of popcorn, and Malcolm got up to make some more. Y/n fiddled with the blanket hem, not knowing what else to do with her hands, until Malcolm returned with a fresh and full bowl. As soon as the bowl was set down, Y/n went to grab a handful. At that exact moment, Malcolm also decided he wanted some popcorn.

They touched hands in the middle, and there was a moment of tension. Y/n tried breaking it by moving her hand away, but Malcolm had other plans.

“Don’t be weird about it. We’re married.” Malcolm smirked as he grabbed Y/n’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Y/n grabbed some popcorn with her free hand, eating it before speaking.

“I can’t wait for the divorce.” The faint blush on her cheeks said otherwise.

***

Have an Out of Home Date

Nerdy kids flooded the restaurant, decorated with uniforms, medals, and ribbons. The math club had just left their state competition and were given an hour to eat before continuing the journey home. Malcolm and Y/n sat in a booth, conversing with Dabney and Lloyd on the other side of the table.

“I’m surprised Herkabe didn’t start kissing the ground you walked on after winning us state.” Y/n laughed, taking a sip of her drink. “You should’ve seen his face when they announced us. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that happy before.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him happy before, period.” Malcolm smiled, reaching over to grab some fries from the appetizer the group had ordered. “But it was a group effort. It wasn’t just me.”

“Yeah, right.” Lloyd scoffed. “You’re the smartest out of all of us, Malcolm.” Dabney nodded in agreement, but Malcolm just looked down.

“Guys, please.”

“No, Malcolm.” Y/n put a hand on his shoulder, raising his gaze from his lap to her. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but stop being so humble right now. Because of you, we’re going to nationals next month. I’m so excited; I’ve never even been outside the state.”

“Well, I couldn’t have done it without you.” Malcolm raised his hand to rest on Y/n’s, giving her a soft smile. “Don’t act like you didn’t do great too. You got second place in our division. You were only a point behind me.”

“Aw.” The soft moment was broken by Dabney, who looked at the two with his head in his hands.

“Are you sure you guys aren’t dating?” Lloyd asked, who looked at them skeptically. The question made Y/n and Malcolm break away, rolling their eyes.

“No, Lloyd,” Y/n answered, reaching for some fries.

“You guys would be a power couple.” Lloyd continued. “I mean, think of the brainpower your kids would have.” Y/n was glad she hadn’t eaten the fries yet because that sentence shocked her and Malcolm.

“Lloyd!”

“I’m just saying!”

Soon their food was served, and they started eating. Y/n was grateful because the fries weren’t satisfying her hunger, and the food had cut off the conversation.

Having kids with Malcolm, she internally laughed at the thought. Yeah, right.

“Speaking of being a couple,” Malcolm said suddenly after scarfing down half of his food. It was safe to say that he was hungry as well. “This can count as an out-of-home date, right?”

“Oh, yeah. I can fill that in when we get back on the bus.” The curiosity that filled Y/n when Malcolm started his sentence was replaced by something else when he finished it. What the feeling was, she didn’t know.

“How’s that going?” Lloyd asked.

“We’re almost done with our list,” Dabney added.

“Already?” Y/n asked. “It’s only been a week. What do you guys have left?”

“Cooking a meal. My mom doesn’t like it when I use the stove.” Dabney admitted sheepishly. 

“And obviously the letter.”

“What letter?” Y/n asked. She didn’t remember reading anything about a letter.

“When you’re done with your project, you have to write a letter to your partner,” Lloyd answered. “It’s supposed to be about what you learned about them and yourself during the three weeks.”

“You didn’t tell me about that,” Y/n said to Malcolm. He shrugged.

“I thought you knew.”

Y/n shook her head. On top of her regular schoolwork and the activities she has to do with Malcolm, she has to write him a letter? Great.

***

As soon as her lunch period started, Y/n went on a mission to find Reese. One of the last things on her and Malcolm’s to-do list was to cook a meal. If anyone could teach her how to cook, it was Reese.

“Reese!” Y/n sped across the courtyard to the boy, who was holding an underclassman by the collar of his shirt. He gave her a quick glance.

“Hold on.” He looked at the kid again. “Have you learned your lesson, kid?”

He nodded profusely. Reese smiled and let go of his collar.

“Good. Now get out of here.” He pushed the kid away and turned to Y/n. The boy quickly ran away.

“What did he do?” Y/n asked, holding back a laugh as she saw him trip over his feet. 

“Didn’t like the way he was looking at me.” Reese shrugged. “What’s up?”

“Can you teach me how to cook?” The question made Reese light up. Besides beating kids up and doing other reckless things, cooking was his biggest passion.

“What do you wanna make?”

“Whatever Malcolm’s favorite food is. One of the last things for our couple project is cooking a meal for our partner, and I have no idea what to make.”

“Trying to impress him or something?” Reese smirked at the red making its way on Y/n’s face.

“No. Just wanna get a good grade.”

“Whatever. Come over after school. We’re gonna make seared chicken with green beans and baby potatoes.” Reese grabbed his backpack and started to walk away.

“I have math club after school,” Y/n said. Reese just shrugged.

“Don’t care.”

Impress him? Y/n rolled her eyes at the thought. Why would I wanna impress Malcolm?

At the ex-Krelboyne’s lunch table, Malcolm watched as Y/n called out thanks to Reese. Why was she talking to him, he wondered.

He didn’t have long to think about it before Y/n suddenly sat beside him. Sensing that he was in somewhat of a sour mood, she didn’t say anything to him until after lunch was over.

“Hey, can you tell Herkabe that I can’t come after school today?”

“Why?” Malcolm asked. She never missed math club or any other academic opportunity to prove her brainpower. Especially when Malcolm was there trying to do the same thing.

“Just tell him I can’t make it. That something came up.”

“Why can’t you tell me?”

Y/n sighed.

“I just can’t, Malcolm. Please, just tell Herkabe I’ll be there next time.”

“Fine.” Malcolm knew that Y/n was a stubborn girl. Even if he kept pushing, she’d stand her ground.

Y/n gave his arm a quick squeeze.

“Thank you, Malcolm. I’ll see you later.” Then she went to her class. As Malcolm walked down the hall, he wondered why she was skipping the club meeting. Did Reese have something to do with it?

***

Cook a Meal For Your Partner

Delicious smells filled the Wilkerson’s kitchen as Reese and Y/n cooked. If Y/n had timed it right, she was confident she had, Malcolm would get home right after the food was served. That was in 10 minutes.

“Thanks for helping me with this, Reese,” Y/n said, flipping over the chicken that was in the pan.

“No problem. You should probably take the potatoes out of the oven now.” Y/n nodded, walking swiftly to the oven with an oven mitt. She took the tray out and went to set it on the stove when she tripped over the leg of a chair. Luckily, Reese was there to grab her.

“Careful!” He shouted, wrapping his arms around her to keep her from hitting the ground. The potatoes rolled around on the tray, but none of them dropped. Reese helped her stand upright, and she set the tray of potatoes down.

“Thanks, Reese.” Y/n turned off the stovetop and brought out two plates from one of the cabinets. “I hope he likes it.” She murmured as she plated the food. She was impressed with herself. It looked pretty good for her first time.

“He’ll love it. It’s coming fro-”

“What the hell is going on here?” Malcolm stood on the other side of the table. Y/n and Reese jumped in surprise; neither of them had heard him come in. It seemed that the 10 minutes had passed rather quickly.

“What are you talking about?” Y/n asked, setting silverware down by the plates she placed on the table.

“Don’t act like that. I saw you guys through the window.” Malcolm turned his gaze to his brother. “Why were you touching her like that, Reese?”

“She was gonna fall.” Reese shrugged, not knowing why Malcolm was so angry.

“Yeah, right.” Malcolm scoffed before focusing back on Y/n. “So this is why you skipped math club? To have dinner with Reese?”

“What?” Y/n laughed. “Are you kidding me?”

“I’m serious,” Malcolm said. “You wouldn’t tell me why you were skipping, and then I find you in my house cooking dinner with my brother’s hands all over you.” Y/n scoffed.

“Reese, can you excuse us for a moment?” Y/n asked the older boy, eyes still on Malcolm. Reese gladly accepted the invitation to leave, walking to his room. But not before taking one of the plates.

“Well?” Malcolm stood with his arms crossed.

“For your information, Malcolm, I’m not fooling around with your brother. I was trying to finish our assignment.”

“What assignment?”

“Our couple assignment! I asked Reese to help me cook dinner because cooking a meal was one of the last things we had to do. Why are you even angry? Even if I was dating Reese or whatever, that doesn’t affect you in any way.” 

The anger on Malcolm’s face faded away and was replaced by embarrassment and regret. He was going to speak but was interrupted.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter. Here’s your dinner.” Y/n pushed the remaining plate of food towards Malcolm. “I heard it’s your favorite.” Y/n then stormed out of the kitchen, grabbed her backpack, and left.

Malcolm looked down at the plate. It was indeed one of his favorite meals. That just made him feel even worse.

“Sometimes, I think you’re a bigger idiot than me.” Reese giggled as he walked out of his room after hearing the front door slam shut. The plate that he took had only half the food it initially did. Reese pointed to Malcolm’s plate, still on the table in front of him, with his fork. “Are you gonna eat that?”

“Shut up, Reese.” Malcolm stormed off to his room, shutting the door behind him.

Why did he get so mad at her? Y/n was just trying to finish their project, and he let his feelings get in the way of it.

His feelings.

Shit.

***

There were a few days left until the couple project had to be finished. Y/n hadn’t talked to Malcolm since the dinner fiasco. But that didn’t mean that Malcolm didn’t try talking to her. Notes were passed but not passed back. Calls were made but not answered.

Luckily, Malcolm had a plan. For ten bucks, he got Reese to find Y/n and take her to their house after school. Malcolm would be waiting for her there.

“Reese, just tell me what you wanna show me. I’m getting impatient.” Y/n groaned as she and Reese walked across the dead lawn and to the front door.

“Just wait,” Reese repeated for the fifth time since they started the journey to his place. He jiggled his key into the lock and opened the door, letting Y/n walk in first. She dropped her bag in the front room and walked into the kitchen.

Malcolm stood by the dinner table, keeping his eyes on her. There were two plates of food and a small lit candle next to him.

“Jesus.” Y/n turned on her heels, grabbed her bag, and went to the door. But she was blocked by Reese. “Come on, Reese. Move.”

Reese simply shook his head, grabbing her backpack out of her hand and pushing her back in Malcolm’s direction. Y/n reluctantly walked towards him and sat in one of the chairs. As Malcolm pulled out the chair across from her, they heard the front door open and shut. Reese had left the two.

“I made your favorite,” Malcolm spoke, seemingly timid. “The dinner you made was delicious. But, um, we didn’t get to eat it together. So, I thought we could have a do-over.”

Y/n looked down at the plate in front of her. It was indeed one of her favorite meals. But she didn’t say anything. Instead, she picked up her fork and started to eat. Malcolm took this as a good sign, but he wasn’t finished.

“I’m really sorry about the other night. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions like that.”

“Yeah, well, you have a tendency to do that. You should get a medal for how high you jump.” Y/n laughed a bit at her joke, and Malcolm laughed along. Another good sign. “I just don’t get why you were so heated about it.”

“Bad day, among other things.”

“Like what?” Malcolm froze, but Y/n didn’t see it. She was too busy eating her food. After a moment, Malcolm responded with a shrug.

“Crappy feelings.” Y/n decided to leave it alone and move on to something else.

“This is really good.”

“Reese helped me with it.”

“Of course he did.”

Soon dinner was finished, and Y/n helped Malcolm clean up, despite his protests. When that was over, Malcolm blew out the candle on the table and walked Y/n to the door.

“I guess we’re done with the project. So I should probably give you this.” Malcolm reached into his back pocket and handed a piece of paper to Y/n.

“What is it?” She was going to unfold the paper, but he stopped her.

“It’s your letter. But I want you to read it when you get home. It’s getting late.” She nodded, pocketing the letter.

“Thanks. I’ll give you your letter tomorrow.” As soon as she finished writing it. She hadn’t gotten around to starting it with other assignments and avoiding Malcolm.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” The two nodded, and Y/n turned to open the door. But instead of walking out, she turned back around and latched herself onto Malcolm.

“I forgive you, by the way.” She gave him a quick squeeze and let go before he could react. “I didn’t say it earlier, but I forgive you.”

All Malcolm could do was nod and watch as the girl walked away.

***

When Y/n got home, she made a beeline for her room. She planned to spend the rest of her night writing her letter to Malcolm so she could give it to him first thing in the morning. It bothered her a bit that he finished it before her, but she tried keeping that out of her mind.

“Might as well read his letter first,” Y/n muttered, pulling the paper out of her pocket. She lay in bed as she unfolded it.

Y/n, the letter read, In the beginning, I just thought that this would be like any other school project. We would get done with it as soon as possible, occasionally arguing over small things. But this project was about spending time together.

I knew that you were competitive, but I learned that along with that, you’re very supportive. When I got first place and you got second, I expected you to make some remarks like we usually do. But instead, you were happy for me.

I’ve also learned that you make jokes during serious or affectionate moments. Like when I held your hand when we watched that movie or when I told you I was glad I was partnered with you for this project.

Maybe that’s a good thing about writing this letter. I can be serious without facing any deflection.

Anyways, on to what I’ve learned about myself. I like having support. I get a lot from my family, but it feels different coming from a friend.

I’m also a bit possessive, apparently. I had something that was just mine (not that I’m saying that you’re mine, but you get what I mean), and when I thought that someone else could take it (not saying you’re an object) from me, I lost it. I’ve always had to share, and just once, I’d like to have something that’s solely mine.

The biggest thing that I learned is that the something I want to be solely mine is you, Y/n. That’s why I freaked out when I saw you with Reese. That’s why I wanted to hold your hand and tell you that I was glad that the person I had to spend all my time with was you. That’s why I wanted to show that I was proud of you for your accomplishments, as you did to me. 

I really like you, and I can’t believe it took me this long to realize that.

Malcolm.

“Oh my God.” Y/n stared at the letter a little longer before looking at the alarm clock on her nightstand. Reading the time, she scrambled out of bed and to her desk to pull out a pen and paper.

***

Y/n pushed past students in the quad in her search for Malcolm. She hoped that he was here before first period started because she felt it would’ve been better to get the letter over with first thing in the morning.

When she finally spotted the boy, she ran over to him and tapped his shoulder so he could turn around.

“Hey.” He said, eyes wide.

“Hi.” Y/n looked around, realized it was too crowded for her liking, and looked at Malcolm. “Can we go somewhere more private?” It took a moment for Malcolm to respond; he was scared of what she had to say.

“Yeah, sure.” He grabbed his backpack and wandered off to the back of the main building, Y/n hot on his tail. When they reached their destination, she looked back to see if anyone had followed. After making sure, she pulled out a piece of paper.’

“I have your letter.” She said, unfolding it. Malcolm tried reaching for it, but she pulled it towards her. “I, um, I wanna read it to you.”

“Oh, okay.” Malcolm leaned against the wall, looking at her patiently. She cleared her throat, trying to push away the nerves.

Just pretend it’s like a presentation, she thought.

“Dear Malcolm,” she read, “At first, I was a bit annoyed that I was partnered with you. I’ve spent most of my academic career being paired with or pitted against you, and part of me wanted a break. But when we walked to your house together on the first day, I realized that I probably wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

“I felt like I saw a side of you that I never did before. I was always so focused on beating you at things that I didn’t bother to see the rest of you. In your own way, you care with your half-hearted remarks and semi-awkward physical affection. You’re never afraid to say what’s on your mind, which can sometimes be a pain. But sometimes, you say the things that I want to hear.

“You said that I make jokes during serious or affectionate moments. So I’m reading this to you to show that I can be serious. These last three weeks have shown me that I really like you too. I like the passion you have for what you do and the things you care about. I like it when you put others people’s accomplishments and things above your own, even though that’s about as rare as a pig flying.”

“I thought you said there weren’t any jokes.” Malcolm rolled his eyes but still snickered. Y/n looked up for the first time since opening the letter.

“I said I can be serious, not that I was gonna be serious the entire time.” She smiled, folding up the paper and handing it to Malcolm. “But I do really like you, Malcolm.”

“I like it when you make jokes.” He put a hand on her cheek, looking her in the eye. “It makes my semi-awkward physical affection less awkward.”

Y/n bit the bullet and moved forward to lock lips with Malcolm. She mirrored his movements as she slipped a hand around his neck. The kiss was short but sweet.

[writeroutoftime]

undercover feelings

pairing: jack thompson x reader (requested by: @rubesque)

summary: you and jack don't like each other in the slightest. but when an undercover mission throws the two of you together, what will become of your relationship? (aka - undercover enemies to lovers)

warnings: minor violence

words: 3.4k (not even sorry)

a/n: let me just start by saying, I know my action sequences aren’t the best, but I'm trying to get better. that said, I absolutely adored writing this story, and I hope everyone enjoys it! a lot of thought went into it, so please please let me know what you think!

oOoOo

As you strode towards Chief Dooley’s office, you noticed Jack coming up behind you out of the corner of your eye. Rolling your shoulders back, you tried to ignore his presence even as he was merely steps behind you, almost purposefully trying to catch the back of your heel. Right as you raised your hand to wrap your knuckles against the Chief’s office door, you let out a frustrated sigh.

“Is there something I can help you with?” you spit out, spinning around to face Jack, wishing you could wipe that smug smirk off his face.

“Never in a thousand years, y/l/n. It seems you’re in my way.” he said, trying to step around you and knock on the door himself.

Rolling your eyes, you blocked the door with your body. “Look, I know you think your daily suck-up sessions with the Chief will get you a promotion, but I was personally asked by Chief Dooley to meet with him, so move along.” you told Jack proudly, ready to see his anger bubble over.

To your surprise, Jack’s grin simply widened as he leaned in. “Me too, sweetheart.” he whispered, leaving you speechless, and pushing past you to knock on the door.

Collecting yourself, you quickly entered the office first, standing in front of the Chief’s desk with your hands behind your back. Every so often, your eyes flitted over to Jack, wondering what the Chief could possibly want with the both of you. It was no secret to any agent in the SSR that you and Jack had a strained relationship to say the least. From your first day, Jack had mistaken you as a secretary, thus beginning a long hate-hate relationship. Even to this day, Jack was one of the most pig-headed men you had the displeasure of knowing.

“Alright, I’ll get straight to the point. I’m sending the two of you on an undercover mission to retrieve sensitive, government information.” Chief Dooley explained. “The most opportune time to retrieve it will be during the American Gala in Washington D.C. hosted by a Mr. Mark Williams. The two of you will pose as husband and wife –“

“That’s a real funny joke, Chief.” Jack interrupted, looking shocked at the prospect of going undercover with you.

“Oh, please, Thompson. You’d be lucky if you could ever convince me to marry you.” you shot back.

“I’d rather go undercover as husband and wife with Krzeminski.”

Before you could move to smack Jack’s arm or throw another insult his way, Chief Dooley stood up, slamming his hands on his desk. “Enough! It’s like dealing with a couple of damn toddlers.” he scolded, instantly causing a wave of shame to wash over you and Jack. “Now, can the two of you act like the federal agents you are, or do I need to find two other agents?” he asked, staring both of you down.

“No, sir.” you mumbled, hearing a similar sentiment leave Jack’s lips.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Chief Dooley sat back down. “Now, as I was saying. The two of you are scheduled to leave in two days, and here are files with all you need to know on the target and your responsibilities.” he continued.

The moment you were dismissed, you stormed out of the Chief’s office and made your way back to your desk. Picking up the nearest piece of paperwork, you stared at the words for a moment before shoving it to the side, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“Everything all right?” Peggy asked, coming up behind you and setting a mug of coffee down on your desk.

“Chief Dooley is sending me on an undercover mission – with Thompson.” you explained, running your hands down your face.

Peggy looked amused by your so-called bad news and shook her head at your oblivious nature. “Perhaps, it will give you the opportunity to recognize your feelings for Agent Thompson.” she suggested casually.

“Feelings?” you nearly shrieked. “The only feeling I have for Agent Thompson is the feeling of dread every time I see him.” you argued.

“If you say so, dear.” Peggy placated as she walked away.

oOoOo

The entire plane ride to D.C. was filled with tense silence as you poured over the case file the entire time. The only noise that came from Jack was the tapping of his foot against the floor and his pen against the table.

“Do you have to do that?” you finally snapped, reaching forward to snatch the pen out of his hand.

Holding his up in mock surrender, Jack chuckled. “Woah, sweetheart, you might want to be a bit nicer considering we are married and all.” he teased.

“Listen,” you started, voice low and serious. “I know that you joke around and don’t always take everything seriously, but this mission is important to me. You have no idea how hard it is working in that office as a woman, and this mission is my chance to prove myself. I will not have it be ruined by the likes of you.”

For once, Jack had no quick remark to offer, instead he was simply stunned by your speech. Silently admitting defeat, Jack conceded to your wishes. “Alright, I’m sorry, y/l/n.”

You were slightly taken aback by how easy that had been. Perhaps you didn’t give Jack enough credit. “Thank you.” you responded, turning back to your files.

The rest of the flight followed in relative silence, Jack or you only speaking when you had questions or needed clarification from the files. It didn’t pass your mind the subtle looks Jack threw your way, but you ignored them, focused on the task at hand. If he had something to say, he could say it. However, the moment the plane landed, you were whisked away to your separate hotel rooms to prepare for the gala, watching Jack walk away.

oOoOo

It was only when Jack heard the clack of your heels against the marble stairs that he turned around and froze, watching your descent. The y/f/c dress you had donned flattered your figure in every sense, and Jack swore you were an angel in that moment. He suddenly felt aware of the way his breath had quickened, and the way his hands shook the tiniest bit from the nerves. So lost in his own mind, Jack didn’t even notice he had yet to take his eyes off of you.

“Is there something on me?” you asked, suddenly feeling very bashful from Jack’s gaze.

“No, no it’s just – uh – I mean,” Jack stuttered, running a hand through his perfectly gelled hair. “you clean up nice, y/l/n.”

“Not too bad yourself there either, Thompson.” you teased, flashing Jack a dazzling smile.

It was true that Jack looked absolutely dashing in his suit, making your knees just a bit week as you had walked down to meet him. His compliment sent a flutter through your chest, and you were brought back to Peggy’s comment about feelings. Perhaps, deep down, all the back-and-forth bickering had simply been a disguise for something else. But you couldn’t let yourself think about that now, not when you had a mission to complete.

Right as you were about to walk into the ballroom, Jack grabbed your wrist gently, stopping you in your tracks. Before you could question his action, he held up his hand and wiggled his finger, a metal band gleaming in the low light. “Now what kind of husband would I be if didn’t give you a ring?” he asked before pulling a small box out of his jacket pocket and producing a beautiful, sparkling engagement ring.

Carefully, Jack lifted your left hand and slid the cool metal over your ring finger until the diamond rested perfectly against your skin. It was difficult to fight the spark of energy when Jack grabbed your hand and the way he gently rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand.

“There.” he whispered, staring into your y/e/c eyes, a soft smile replacing that smirk that typically resided on his lips.

The two of you stood in the foyer for a moment, lost in the other’s gaze until other couples around you laughed and chatted on their way into the ballroom, breaking the spell. Ever the gentleman, Jack offered his arm, which you accepted, leading you both into the belly of the beast. Walking into said ballroom was breathtaking, the entire room being decorated from floor to ceiling with gold accents; however, you forced yourself to stay focused on the mission at hand.

A quick scan of the room showed you multiple entry/exit points, as well as a good estimate of the security posted throughout the room. Beside you, Jack was doing the same before his eyes widened slightly. Following his line of sight, you noticed your target for the evening, Mark Williams, surrounded by a group of people. While your first instinct was to go straight to the source, you knew that would raise alarms and potentially jeopardize the mission.

“Care for a dance?” Jack asked, having the same idea as you when he noticed Williams leading his wife to the dance floor.

Wordlessly, you allowed Jack to lead you towards the dance floor where he rested a warm, gentle hand on the small of your back while his other hand intertwined with your fingers. A small gasp left your lips from the proximity between you and Jack, and it was difficult to not become intoxicated by his cologne. For a moment, you allowed yourself to admire Jack’s strong jaw, piercing eyes, and the few hairs that had fallen out of place under the golden light the room provided.

The music began to pick up, and you let out a surprised cry of delight as Jack spun you around the floor, selling every bit of the perfectly happy couple. After one such spin, Jack brought you closer and whispered that you had caught the attention of Williams. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw the man staring in your direction.

“Trust me.” you told Jack under your breath before you took the lead and danced the two of you straight into your target. “Oh golly, I am so sorry, sir.” you apologized, feigning innocence. “I’m such a clutz, I don’t know why you bring me to these events, dear.” you said, aiming the second half of your sentence to Jack.

“Lord knows why, sweetie.” Jack responded, quickly catching onto your act. “Sorry again, sir. My wife said it herself – she can be a real clutz.”

Mark Williams flashed a quick smirk, looking your body up and down, seemingly sizing the two of you up. “No harm done, pretty lady. I’m Mark Williams. Mind making it up to me with a dance? That is, if your husband doesn’t mind.” he asked, though both you and Jack knew it was more a command.

“It’s the least I can do.” you giggled, accepting Williams’ hand, and letting him pull you away from Jack just like you thought he would.

Immediately, the band in the corner struck up a slower tune, and Williams placed a hand on your waist and began to awkwardly sway off beat. Unlike Jack’s soft, warm hands, this felt cold and unforgiving, and you forced yourself to swallow back the nausea.

“So, you must be used to all the glamor of these events, huh? Being a powerful man and whatnot.” you flirted, batting your eyelashes to help sell your act.

“You could say that, though they get pretty boring after a while. But having someone like you here helps to pass the time.” Williams said, slipping his hand further down your back.

Humming in response, you used the distraction to subtly reach your hand into Williams’ jacket pocket where you silently cheered when your hand touched a key – which you assumed unlocked his office. Carefully, you slipped it into your own pocket before squeezing William’s bicep with a smile to keep his suspicions down. Before he could slip his hand down any further, you pushed back gently and flashed an apologetic smile.

“Excuse me for a moment.” you purred, slipping away to the nearest hallway, keeping an eye out for Jack. Suddenly, an arm shot out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you further down the hallway. You nearly let out a shout of surprise before you saw that it was Jack.

“Are you done flirting or what?” he hissed, eyes narrowed, and chest puffed out.

Rolling your eyes, you flashed him the key you had slipped into the pocket of your dress. “Didn’t take you for the jealous type, Thompson.” you teased, scanning the doors for Williams’ office.

Once you reached the door, you quickly unlocked his office and ushered Jack in, quietly closing the door behind you and locking it. The office itself was spotless, leaving you no clue as to where the files could be hidden. Wordlessly, you and Jack split up, searching through every nook and cranny in order to complete your mission.

It wasn’t long before a soft “found it” came from Jack’s side of the room. Rushing over, you peered at the document in front of him to confirm that it was the correct document. Joy filled your body when you saw that your mission was a success.

Placing a hand on Jack’s bicep, you beamed at him. “Jack this is amazing, we did it!” you celebrated.

Jack let out a small chuckle, enjoying the way you were so excited. He glanced down at your hand on his arm, then back towards you where he locked his eyes with yours. Some unknown force took over you, causing the two of you to lean in towards each other, lips inching closer. Just as you could feel his warm breath on your face and almost touch his lips, loud rattling and banging came from the two, pulling the two of you apart instantly.

“Williams.” you both whispered, looking for a way out.

An open window caught your eye, and you ripped the file out of Jack’s hand as you pushed him towards said window. “Go, or neither of us are going to make it out of here.” you said through clenched teeth.

Jack hesitated a moment before he ran to climb out of the window, instantly turning around to offer you a helping hand. Right as you jumped out, the office door burst open, and Williams appeared with a half dozen bodyguards. He caught a flash of your dress and noticed the torn apart file cabinet, quickly putting two and two together.

“Shit! Get those two, dead or alive, and bring me back that file!” he shouted, pointing in the direction of your escape

It wasn’t long before bullets whizzed past your head as you and Jack ran through the garden towards the getaway car. Adrenaline pumped through your veins, minimizing the dull ache on the side of your arm you eventually felt. All you could think about was getting yourself and Jack out of there in one piece.

The moment the car came into view, you pushed yourself further and faster, sliding into the passenger seat as Jack started the engine and drove off with a squeal. There were still bullets that banged against the car, but once Jack stepped on the gas and swerved off the beaten road, you finally allowed yourself a breath of relief.

“Please tell me after all that, you still have the damn file.” Jack said, glancing to his side at your crumpled figure.

Slamming a, albeit slightly bent, manilla file folder onto the dashboard, you let out a dry chuckle. “You’re welcome. Maybe, for once, Thompson, you can just admit that I actually know what I’m – shit!” you suddenly groaned, clutching the side of your arm, and pulling away to reveal red, sticky fingers.

Jack looked over once more at your groan of pain and slammed on the breaks the moment he saw blood. “You got shot?” he all but shouted, turning your body so he could see where a bullet had lodged itself into the side of your arm.

“Thank you, Sherlock.” you breathed out, squeezing your eyes shut as Jack poked and prodded the area. “You’re gonna need to dig it out.” you told him after he continued to sit in silence.

“I know!” Jack snapped, before sighing upon seeing your reaction and approaching the situation softer. “I know, I know, I’m sorry.” he said before stepping out of the car and grabbing the first aid box from the trunk.

Jack quickly opened the passenger side of the door and knelt down so he could reach your wound. “This is gonna sting.” Jack whispered before he began to clean the wound with some of the alcohol from the kit, wincing along with you.

Jack felt his heart clench as you gripped his shoulder in pain, biting your lip. It became even worse when he started to remove the bullet from your arm, though there was nothing that he could do. There was silence between you and Jack, leaving Jack to his own devices. Seeing the blood on your hands and having to dig a bullet out of you made Jack feel as though he had been the one to be shot. In fact, he wished he had been to avoid you going through this pain.

“Got it.” Jack finally announced, throwing the bullet to the side and wrapping your arm in gauze.

“Thank you.” you said, letting out one more hiss of pain.

Instead of responding, Jack let his hand linger on your arm as he poured over every inch of your body, trying to determine if you had been injured anywhere else. There was such an intensity in his eyes that you couldn’t believe this was the same man you bickered with on an almost hourly basis. It had to be some kind of trick your eyes were playing on you from the pain.

“There you go, you’ll be alright.” Jack reassured you, tying the final strip of bandage around your arm, his hands lingered gently. “I gotta say, you really know how to give a fella a heart attack, y/n.”

“Oh please, I’m sure you would’ve forgotten all about me and reveled in all the attention you’d receive from the Chief.” you shot back, deflecting any emotions that could make you look weak and vulnerable.

Jack’s face morphed into one of hurt, and you felt guilty at the way his titled head and soft eyes made him look like a lost puppy. “Is that what you really think of me? That I wouldn’t care if you didn’t make it out of this mission?”

“You don’t like me, Jack. And I don’t like you. That’s how we’ve always operated, what else could I have possibly interpreted from that?” you argued, frustrated that he seemed to be dragging this conversation on.

“That’s not true, and you know it, y/n.” Jack countered, taking both of your hands in his grasp. “Both of us know deep down that this enemies act is self-defense, but I know that after tonight, I can’t pretend anymore. And I’m pretty sure you don’t want to either.”

For the second time that night, Jack cupped your cheeks in his hand, and leaned in. His lips hovered over yours for just a moment, giving you the chance to change your mind, but you launched yourself forward and finally kissed Jack Thompson. The kiss was sweet, but passionate, years of pent-up feelings bubbling over the surface. Jack pulled you close to his body while your fingers played with the hair and the nape of his neck. You had never allowed yourself to imagine this moment, but in that moment you knew you could get used to be kissed by Jack for the rest of your life.

Eventually, the two of you pulled away, foreheads leaning against each other, and your breath the only thing that could be heard in the night air. Jack’s thumb brushed against your cheek, and you leaned into his touch, now unable to reject his touch.

“Wow,” you breathed out. “maybe we should bottle our feelings like that again.” you teased.

“No, I don’t want to not be able to kiss you again.” Jack whispered, before he pulled you back in for another kiss, grateful you were safe in his arms, giving him the rest of his life to spend with you, and making Peggy five dollars richer.

oOoOo

tagging: @sarcasm-n-insomnia @bde-break-down-energy

[watevermelon]

Same Old Love | Kaeya (Genshin) x Traveler!Reader

✧ Summary: Kaeya was mysterious in every way that made you wary. From the gleam in his eye to how easy it was for him to flirt, it made you wonder how much he was presenting was truly real. Not wanting to get sucked in, you swore not to fall for the Cavalry Captain. At least, that was the plan, right? ➳ Notes: Angst with a happy ending ➳ A/N: Thank you so much for the ask!! This was fun to write ((I feel like I write so much angsty/jealousy fics haha)) I’m just getting into genshin and so please feel free to send in requests for these cuties <3 @breathings-of-the-heart​

Navigation 

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You had some worries about Kaeya, dubbed “The Handsome Mr. Kaeya” by Paimon.

There was no doubt that he was attractive, his ever present smirk and exposed chest was enough to signify to anyone that even Kaeya was well aware of his looks. But he tended to wield his words like a double edged sword - using his words for an express purpose.

It was admirable, in a way. He was the loyal Cavalry Captain who looked out for Mondstadt’s best interest. And while he had misled you on this pirate treasure adventure, there was no harm really done. In fact, from the way he prattled about haircuts and eyepatches inherited from his parents, you were already sure that it was simply a tale being spun for Paimon to latch onto.

At the end of the day, Kaeya still compensated you for your time and provided you with a higher-level weapon. The criminals were caught and the Knights were credited for another arrest of an infamous Treasure Hunter. It was a win-win situation that you very quickly put behind you as another job done.

The entire quest had not really bothered you - it was not like you had not withheld anything either. You ran from clue to clue without updating Kaeya on your progress, with the express intent of snagging some of this treasure yourself.

It was a really smart move on his part and, for whatever reason, it had the inverse effect on you - it made you want to get closer to Kaeya.

Paimon grumbled for all of a day before she prattled onto something new, complaining about the returning ruin guard by the temple or the way Venti sassed her. But you often found yourself hanging around Good Hunter or  Angel’s Share, wondering if you would be able to run into him again.

It was no surprise that Kaeya was always busy, Jean had mentioned before that Kaeya was the one who often wrapped up every physical incident that occurred in both the city and outer plains of Mondstadt.

And so it was easy to lose track of him, the image of Kaeya still present in your mind, just pushed back in the further recess as you continued in your struggle to find clues about your brother. When whispers on the street spoke of a Dark Knight hero, you were pleasantly surprised to see Diluc patrolling the streets from the shadows.

The last thing you had expected was to team-up with the very man who ran opposite to the Knights, but you learned how oddly sweet Diluc was in that short amount of time. His double life of fighting off the abyss army single-handedly to running the largest Winery on the continent - Diluc’s workload was no easy feat.

You were just out of the clear, Huffman gone to deal with the slimes when a resounding clap started from the dining area of the bar. Kaeya stood and approached you both, you turned to Diluc and he had the flattest, most unimpressed expression on.

You stood mostly silent in that conversation, Diluc with his arms and chin held high. Kaeya had reassured him that the secret was best kept that way, eyes glinting mischievously as they went from the winery owner to you.

You only stared right back, as if Kaeya’s face would give off exactly what he was looking for. Instead, he simply smiled at the both of you and left when Diluc said he was closing the bar. Diluc thanked you for your assistance, reassuring you that in case you need help, he was a willing hand.

When you walked out the bar then, Kaeya was still right outside, chatting casually with some of the late bar-goers that sat at the picnic table. Just as he made eye-contact with you, he bid himself goodbye from the group and fell into step with you.

“Paimon doesn’t trust blue-haired, eye-patched men anymore.” She started next to you.

“That’s good I’m a blue-haired, eye-patched handsome young man.” Kaeya shot back, to which she rolled her eyes. He then turned to you with the same open smirk as usual, “And here I was thinking I could make you my assistant.”

Was he flirting with you?

It took you a second to question this internally before Paimon scoffed, “Ugh, I’m going ahead to the inn. I don’t think I can stand watching you make kissy-faces at each other after the day we had.”

You waved a hand in her direction to smack her, but she was already flying away up and out of reach.

Turning back to the Captain, you were surprised to see that Kaeya was still looking at you, not even toward Paimon as she fled into the night.

Remembering his last statement, you shot back, “Think you could handle me?”

“Confidence, it looks very good on you.” Kaeya replied as his smile widened. He took a single step closer, lowering his voice next to your ear and continuing. “But the real question is if you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into?”

You stood your ground, ignoring the shiver that ran up your spine, “I always like to try new things.”

“I look forward to it.” Kaeya straightened, lightly grabbing your hand in one of his own and raising it to his lips. “Until then, traveler.”

To think that such a simple action, hardly anything scandalous, had lingered on your skin the entire night. You remembered the way his lips felt against your hand, how striking his blue eyes bore into your own. Kaeya was extremely dangerous, able to catch your attention and keep it for hours on end.

The next day you had a commission about dismantling a rising Hilichurl camp, a perfect distraction away from the eye-patched hunk that kept plaguing your thoughts. The last thing you expected was for Kaeya to see you.

“Looks like our honorary knight continues their do-good streak.”

“It’s the least I can do.” You replied back, a sassy hand on your waist.

“Why don’t I accompany you?”

You wanted to scream.

Paimon actually did groan before stating she was going to stay in the city.

And suddenly, your distraction was running exactly opposite to your intention. With Kaeya joining your party, the Cavalry Captain was making himself decidedly known you.

He led you around a cliff, showing you a higher area where you could survey the camp before bursting in guns blazing. There were six Hilichurls, some slimes scattered about and two towers already set-up in this enemy campsite.

You decided to stick together, coming in from the high ground and slamming your weapon into the ground at unsuspecting enemies. It felt nice to fight alongside someone again, oftentimes you were alone in your adventures. Paimon would yell words of encouragement, but never would she actually lift a finger to fight. But Kaeya was reliable, freezing enemies into place and shattering them where they stood.

Taking down some of the outer-rim electro Hilichurls equipped with bows, you were nearly finished with clearing the entire camp. You grabbed the pyro slimes and exploded them near the towers, taking down the camp with them. With the camp almost completely disassembled, you heard the tell-tale electronic power-up that only signified one enemy.

A ruin guard.

Hunched over, you watched as multiple missiles took aim on the nearby unsuspecting Cavalry Captain. Running the best you could, you threw decorum out the window as you all but tackled the poor man out of harm's way.

Rolling a few times, there was no surprised yelp from the man beneath you. He simply allowed you to take the wheel until you came to a stop, hovering over his body. Kaeya was undoubtedly taller than you, but you were face-to-face as he smirked beneath you.

“Wow, not that I’m against this.” Kaeya started, a quip ready. “But ask me out to dinner first.”

You flushed and stood up immediately, “I was saving you!”

“I’ll let you save me any day of the week.” Kaeya replied, earning a half-assed scowl on your behalf. He only laughed at you, calling your attempted look of intimidation only served to make a cute pout instead.

You huffed and considered leaving him with the ruin guard.

From then on there was no doubt about it - Kaeya was flirting with you.

And you were openly flirting back, if of course he decided a less obnoxious moment. In between commissions and nights at Angel’s Share, Kaeya flirtations were growing more and more brazen. It was one thing to kiss the top of your hand in greeting and another entirely for Kaeya to throw his hand across your hair, leaning in to openly bury his nose in your hair.

Diluc called you both disgusting.

Tonight, you entered Cat Tail’s semi-inconspicuously to get a drink. Paimon had long caught onto your game, saying that she surprisingly approved of Kaeya, since after all he was still a good guy in some ways.

But, she still was not exactly a fan of you too making “kissy-faces” at each other, her words. And so tonight you were flying solo, Paimon opting to annoy Amber instead tonight as they tracked down some abyss mage or other.

You tried your best to hang around the bar, looking around the tavern to see if the object of your desire was anywhere around. You meandered for a few minutes, saying greetings to other bargoers that had recognized you, before approaching the bartender if Kaeya has been around

The bartender recognized you immediately. It was hard not to place one of the few new people in Mondstadt, especially one that was crushing much of the country's enemies. Diona had mentioned before that you were a friend of Diluc’s, often more than just a customer at the rival tavern. No, you were seen running around the city with the red-head at random times.

She said the worst thing you could have ever suspected.

“I think Kaeya has a hot date tonight.”

You felt a lump in your throat form, but tried to keep your response guarded. “Oh?”

The bartender continued, “Yeah, I’m not sure if it was Paula? Or Maggie tonight? But you know the captain - always changing up his escapades.”

“Right, of course.” You replied back, words coming out before you could even register it. Instead, you kept on nursing your drink, spiteful words from the bartender marinating in your mind.

Kaeya was mysterious, yes. But was he leading you on?

… Was it right of you to trust him?

The first red flag should have been the fact that you knew nearly nothing about him personally. To think that you had spent all this time together talking and fighting alongside one another, but you could not even recall basic facts about him, let alone anything deep. You were unaware of his family history - Diluc was his brother, but it was the red-head who ended up confiding that fact to you.

Kaeya was so charming that you hadn’t even noticed he shut you out of his world.

And so there was no point in actively keeping a one-sided friendship like that. From then forth, you resolved to avoid the Cavalry Captain for the time being. You knew you had to free Dvalin together, but that did not mean you had to swoon for him in your free time.

It was almost expected of you to join him on Friday nights at Angel’s Share, but tonight you were missing. Neither Charles nor Diluc had seen you the entire day. There were probably a hundred different things you were doing - gathering resources, fighting slimes - and so Kaeya thought little of it.

But he was still disappointed not to see your face that night.

And so he thought nothing was wrong the next day when he saw you in the city square, talking to someone at the general store. He approached you and offered to join your party again, take down some enemies somewhere out in the country.

You didn’t even smile at him.

Not this time.

Just a curt no before you were leaving out the city gates.

The second time Kaeya already had enough and confronted you before you could even attempt to walk away.

He grabbed at your elbow, “Have you finally grown tired of me?”

You pulled it back, no real strength behind it as Kaeya still held you under his grip. “Kaeya, why is it that you keep reaching out to me? I have nothing of my own to offer - no money, no family - there is nothing left I can give you.”

He frowned in response but grabbed at your other hand, “I haven’t asked you for anything, have I?”

You looked away, “You don’t have to! It’s inherent, after all. Isn’t that why you asked me to team-up in the first place, to use me to find your criminals?”

Kaeya mentally recoiled, “Woah, back up. I may have guided you regarding the treasure but never have I maliciously led you on.”

You pulled at your hands to no avail, this time the captain actively trying to keep your attention on him. 

“I just! I thought I meant something more to you, Kaeya.”

He smiled and tried to pull you into his chest, but you shoved off his touch this time fully.

“No! You can’t just hug me and think everything is okay. You’re supposed to be one of the good guys, one of the handful of people I can trust in Mondstadt and I know nothing about you.”

Kaeya did not reach for your hands, instead moving to stand in front of you. “I’m sorry that I hold my secrets close to my chest, but that’s what I’m used to.”

Frustrated, you replied. “Don’t you get tired? Holding the people that love you at an arm's length?”

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, this time reaching for you. “I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t special. Trust me, you’re the only one I’ve had eyes on ever since you landed here in Mondstadt.”

You shook your head, “But the bartender, she said -”

“Who cares what she said?” Kaeya interrupted, “They know village gossip, but they don’t know me or you.”

“I don’t really know you.” You replied.

Kaeya caressed the side of your cheek before lightly gently grabbing your hand again, “Then let’s start.”

With a hesitant smile, you closed your eyes and nodded.

“Okay.”

You had your doubts then and it’s not like an issue of trust was fixed overnight. But, to his credit, Kaeya tried as best he could. Instead of meeting randomly at the bar, he would approach you sometime during the day and set-up a date. How he knew where you were was a mystery, but a man with that many connections surely had a way.

He had no qualms about holding your hand or openly kissing your cheek in the presence of others - proclaiming loudly to one and all in Mondstadt that you were his and he was yours.

Taking your first argument to heart, Kaeya was very keen on communication. Anything you were unsure of, he expressed that he was by no means rushing you. And when you finally shared your first kiss, for once not a single soul in front of the Lord Barbatos statue, you leaned into his touch to get many more.

Kaeya made good on his promise, slowly letting you into his world in kind. You remembered one night as the both of you sat on the edge of Mondstadt, nothing but ocean for miles in front of you. You had your head on his shoulder, describing your adventures with your brother and how you missed having family.  

Kaeya had a gentle hand in your hair, rubbing soothing circles as you recalled a time long ago. Once your story finished, you two continued to stare out, wondering what the future could hold as your minds swam in an endless sea of thoughts.

He broke the silence.

“I miss my brother also.”

Diluc was not always his estranged brother, but once a friend, supporter, and sounding board. Some even mistook them as truly twins in heart and mind, defending Mondstadt and having each other’s backs for years. The Diluc you had come to know was a shell of his old self, close friends and past hidden behind years of repressed feelings.

There was no doubt wistfulness in Kaeya’s eyes as he recalled the past to you, but you continued to listen quietly. 

Your relationship with the Cavalry Captain was hardly easy. Often responsibilities called you both - Kaeya was highly stationed in Mondstadt while you still had seven other countries to visit. But that did not mean the end for you both. Even when you were thousands of miles away or sat atop the highest mountain without a clue to where he was, you cherished the thought that you still shared the same sky with the love of your life.

No matter where you were in Teyvat, you had Kaeya to return to.

[yesokaythatsfine69]

Pretty Boys (Levi Ackerman X Eren Yaegar x Jean Kirstein x Reader)

Description: Why want one when you could have them all? The boys fight over you, so in your frustration you give them an ultimatum, one they really can't refuse.

Character(s): y/n, Eren, Jean, Levi, Mikasa, Armin, Hanje

POV: 2nd person

Warning(s): fluff, angst, cursing, you're a sexy queen

A/n: hello! New year's is coming up so as a new year's gift I give you this. I couldn't decide if I wanted to do smut for this or if I wanted to do a sequel of some sort but I think unless it's requested this'll do. This will be my last work for Attack on Titan. Again, feel free to request anything abt it though.

Word count:

Song: nowhere to run by stegosaurus rex

*none of the gifs used are mine, full credit goes to the maker.

You tugged your hair back, fingers nimbly working to tie the strands of your hair back into a proper pony tail. Sweat dripped from your neck, the summer weather taking a toll on your body and your work. You fanned yourself, huffing out a sigh.

"Taking a break?" You turned, coming face to face with Jean. He had the reigns of his horse in his right hand, leading the animal to where you stood, by the training area. He smiled, seemingly unfazed by the sweltering heat.

"I should ask you the same thing. Where have you been?" You crossed your arms, getting yourself prepared for whatever lackluster answer Jean was about to provide. Jean simply handed you the reigns, gently taking your hand and pressing the reigns into your palms.

"I've been taking care of the horses, believe it or not they like to bathe too." You huffed at his answer, but looked up at him and raised the reigns questionably. "What is this?" The brown eyed boy smiled again, crossing his arms. He leaned against the animal causally, his eyes gleaming mischievously. "This is Ren. She's new and needs a rider. So, I was thinking..."

You broke out into a wide smile. During the last mission, a particularly brutal one, you'd lost your horse. You loved that animal- he'd gotten you out of serious trouble in the past. Always faithful until the end...that had nearly torn you apart, as nothing was more villainess to you than to kill an innocent animal.

Before you could stop yourself you practically tackled the blonde, pulling him into a tight hug.

You and Jean had been close since the battle for trost, the two of you working side by side after being assigned the same squad. After giving pleasantries neither of you seemed focused on maintaining a friendship beyond just surviving- that was until you'd lost him.

Jean had gone missing in the chaos, you searching roof tops and buildings until finally you found his figure, hunched over.

You remember how badly he shook, tears streaming from his brown eyes. "Jean?" He hadn't spoken a word to you, but he hadn't needed to. You took his face in your hands and forced him to look at you.

You delivered a breathing technique that you'd taught yourself when you got nightmares after the wall fell. You waited until his breathing evened out and he seemed to be in a better headspace before you hugged him, gently.

Your kindness caught him off guard- especially for someone going the scouts- but he never forgot it.

Your grip tightened around him, practically squeezing the life out of him. "Oh Jean! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You couldn't see it but his cheeks were as red as cherries and his eyes were as wide as saucers. "Uh, yeah. No- no problem."

"Oi, what the hell are you two doing?" The sound of your captains voice rang through the field and you gently let go of your comrade. "Jean got me a new horse!" You squealed at your stone faced commander, who's eyes were narrowed at a still blushing Jean.

"That's very kind of him. Especially since I wasn't aware he was able to give away our horses." Jean straightened, his eyes still wide. "Well, no not technically, I just- the horse needed- needed an owner and since...ya know, I figured." Levi just stared at him, an eyebrow raised. "Tch, you are an bumbling idiot, but as long as y/n's happy with it?" You nodded empathically.

"Uh, thank you, sir." Jean stuttered again, and Levi rolled his eyes. "Shut up." "Right, right. I better go...clean something." Jean cast one last glance in your direction before he left, leaving the horse in your care.

Levi watched him go as you turned to Ren, softly petting her snout.

Gently a hand reached out beside you, joining in in stroking the horse. "She is very lovely, I'll give him that." You smiled at Levi's words.

"Maybe someday I'll let you ride her." You laughed, turning suddenly. You hadn't realized though how close the two of you had gotten when he reached over your shoulder to pet Ren, and suddenly the two of you were mere inches from one another's faces.

Your eyes widened at the degree of closeness, until Levi's own gaze flickered to meet yours. You smiled at him and his lips upturned the slightest. You opened your mouth to speak but once more you were interrupted with the arrival of a cadet. "Captain Levi, sir! Commander Erwin requested your presence for a meeting about-"

Levi waved him off. "Tch, save it, I'm coming." Levi turned back to you but jumped a little when the cadet spoke again, obviously having figured he'd be leaving. "Captain Levi, I was told to escort you." Levi's expression was tense, but his voice remained eerily calm. "Do you want a gold star, brat? I said I was coming." Levi began his way to the cadet, who seemed much less sure of himself.

"Oh, captain Levi!" You yelled after him, waving your right arm in the air. The two paused both turning in your direction. "Don't forget I'll see you tonight to help you finish the paperwork over the last scouting mission." Levi nodded, his face less tense.

At their leave you also turned, bringing your new horse with you and heading to the stables.

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Your clutched your tray, dodging around the people who stood and talked in the lunchroom. You searched for Eren, and found him, the boy waving his hand into the air to catch your attention in the crowded room. You smiled, making your way over and putting your tray down directly beside him.

Armin and Mikasa were already there, talking about something that happened on a recent mission. Eren grinned at you when you say down, his green eyes brightly shining in the lunchroom a light.

"How was training today, y/n?" Eren asked as he handed you his piece of bread. The two of you often shared food, and by now it had become second nature to do so.

You met when you were especially young, living only a few houses down from each other. You'd play, daydream, and defend Armin together. Although you were much more mild mannered- something Eren teased you about- you got along quite well. The two of you brought out an especially different side of one another.

But there was something the two of you shared deeply to your core and it was the need to protect. You'd both do whatever you could to protect those you cared about. It showed, but just in different ways. Armin often joked that you were the mother figure of the group and Eren the father.

You never noticed how bright Eren's cheeks turned.

"It went really well. Jean got me a new horse." You took a bite of bred, missing the way something dark passed over Eren's eyes.

Damn him.

Eren kept his smile as he leaned into you a bit, remaining his usual self. "Oh? Then you'll be back to riding with us soon." You shared his smile. "Yeah, as long as Levi approves. I'll be ready to kill some Titan's." Your enthusiasm caused Eren to blush, and he looked down at his watery soup. "Good, good."

He brought his spoon to his mouth, about to eat when Jean's voice thundered behind him. Immediately he straightened, but kept his body still for the main part. "Y/n, how are you liking Ren?"

Jean arrived behind you, tray in hand, and a sly smile on his face. Instantly you tapped the empty seat on the other side of you, wordlessly inviting him to sit down. He did so, and you turned away from Eren who noticably tensed.

"Yes! She's so lovely. I really can't thank you enough, Jean." As you spoke you placed your hand on his knee, Jean watching your movements intensely. His cheeks blushed as he met your kind eyes, an aw shucks expression on his blushing face. Meanwhile, Eren rolled his eyes on the other side of you, clearly finding this act overdone.

"Y/n," Eren caught your attention again, and you shifted from Jean back to your green eyes friend. "Since tomorrow's our day off, I was wondering if you'd like to practice some new techniques before you start going on missions again."

You opened your mouth to respond but before you could do so, Jean interjected. "You really think y/n would want to spend her day off training? Especially with a titan?" Eren answered him, but kept his eyes on you. "Spending the day training together is a great use of time, especially since she hasn't been in the field for a bit. Regardless of whether or not I'm a titan- the two of us still share the same goal-"

Jean laughed bitterly. "Oh can it, Titan boy. You just wanna spend the day alone with y/n." Now it was your turn to blush. "Uhh...guys."

Eren rolled his eyes. "Well at least I'm man enough to ask her to spend the day with me, unlike you, who'll just follow her around like a dog on a leash." Immediately the two stood up, bringing their faces inches apart. "Did you just call me a dog, Yaeger?" "You called me Titan boy."

You stood, turning to Mikasa and Armin who were watching with confusion as Jean and Eren engaged in a heated argument, in which neither were completely sure what it was about. "I'm gonna go, but if they calm down please tell them I'm open to spending my day off with both of them." "Sure thing, y/n." "Yeah, of course."

You side stepped the two boys and left the lunchroom, deciding that now was as good of a time as ever to go work with Levi to finish paperwork.

You left the lunchroom, making your way to Levi's office. You cast one last glance at Eren and Jean's figures. Biting your lip you hummed, and moved on, a dangerous new gleam in your eye.

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"Why you little-" "Hey, where did y/n go?" The two boys pulled apart, casting wide glances around them. Eren found Mikasa. "She left a little bit ago, Ereh." Jean spun around. "You scared her off!" Eren glared at the blonde. "I scared her off? You're the one who-" Mikasa continued, "She did say that she wanted the spend her day off with both you, though."

Jean frowned and Eren's brow furrowed. The two shared a new type of look- one of confusion. Then they separated, still carrying the same tense jealousy as before but now it was dulled by confusion and a strange satisfaction. "Fine by me." "Sure, whatever."

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

You stopped in front of Levi's office door. Calmly, you knocked and waited for the captain to call out to you.

"tch, come in brat."

You opened the door, smiling gently at Levi's tired expression. He had stacks in front of him and it reminded you fo the first time you started helping him finish paperwork.

One night you were sent by Hanje to deliver some files to the scout leader, and you had knocked several times, none gave you an answer. Your curiosity had gotten the better of you and you let yourself in.

Levi was asleep over his desk, hair covering his face. He had to have been out cold, and it had absolutely surprised you, since you knew Levi barely ever slept let alone in the middle of doing something important. But there he was, dead asleep in front of you.

You first smiled, noticing how pretty he looked when he wasn't stressed or tense. Peaceful had been a good look on him.

You wouldn't dare wake him up as any other "brat" would've, instead your slipped some papers out from under him and began working.

You were driven by efficiency, and often if you wanted something done you wanted it done now, so it was easy to get through the paperwork- each answer meticulous and to Levi's liking.

After he woke up several hours later to you working quietly beside him, the two of you enjoyed quiet nights of paperwork, working side by side and talking in between.

Today, Levi was awake, but looked exhausted as he sat at his desk. He was illuminated by a single candle, and two cups of tea placed side by side claimed the edge of the table.

Your captain nodded to them. "Don't worry, I made the tea this time. I'm never trusting Hanje with the pot ever again." You snorted, carefully picking up a cup and sitting in front of Levi. "It wasn't that bad."

"tch, it wasn't even black." You hummed, taking a sip. He handed you stack, making sure you had enough room to work. "you, know, there's this bakery in town I think you'll really like. They have the best bread. It'd go so well with your tea."

You spoke while you worked, filling in each blank efficiently. "In town?" You nodded. Levi didn't like going out often, the thought was quite unappealing, unless... "Tomorrow's a day off, isn't it?" You hummed.

"tch, take me there tomorrow then." You looked up. "I don't know if I'll be able to, I have plans with Jean and Eren." Levi resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "They'll be busy tomorrow." You frowned. "What? But tomorrow-" "They have stable duty all day tomorrow."

You stopped working and Levi looked up to meet your gaze. "What? What for?" Levi's face remained expressionless as he explained, giving you a long shpeal about them needing to learn to work together better and that the best way to do that was for them to spend that day cleaning.

Satisfied with himself Levi moved on, going back to work. You were still stunned. "Where in town is this bakery?" When you didn't reply he looked up, gently tapping your forehead. "Oi, pay attention, brat." You blinked away your confusion before rejoining in conversation with Levi.

Before long you two had switched to several different subjects and when you finally finished working the tea pot had become completely empty.

You stretched out your arms as Levi rubbed his eyes. "Well, that's all of it." Your breathed, crossing your arms over your chest. "tch," Levi laughed without humor. "For tonight." You smiled and lifted yourself up. "For tonight." You got to the door, before turning back to Levi.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then?" In the darkness of the room you could've sworn you saw Levi smile. "Tomorrow."

The door opened and closed softly and Levi waited until he could no longer hear the soft padding of your feet before he lifted himself up from his desk and carried his tired body to his room.

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

Eren was practically stomping when he left his room. Another cadet had delivered the news of his punishment, and each step Eren took seemed angrier than the last.

Eren loved you- loved you since you two had met outside of your home, just a few doors down from his own. You seemed less edgy than he- less angry and more gentle. It shocked him, but it also lured him into your caress.

For a long time you were his best secret, and it was definitely selfish of him- but...the thought of losing you caused his fists to clench.

Losing you to titans was one thing- and losing you to Jean Kirstein was a completely different thing. Improbable, impossible, and definitely not happening.

Eren entered the stable and saw that he had beat Jean there. He grabbed a broom and immediately began sweeping, hoping to burn off some steam before the arrival of Jean and Levi.

Jean was slow in every single movement. It was his day off, goddamnit and instead of spending it with you, he was spending it with Eren. He scoffed in disgust. Captain Levi's plan to somehow teach them team work was definitely going to give someone a black eye- and Jean just knew it was going to be him.

He just wanted to spend some time with you- and maybe Eren was right- he did follow you around like a puppy, but that was because he really really really liked you. Okay he kind of loved you.

You've always been there for him, especially when Marco died. You've even met his mother before. Jean doesn't allow many people into his private life let alone share the parts of him he's buried deep under a shell of heat and anger.

But somehow you were able to worm your way in.

Jean sighed at the door of the stable. He opened it and directly in his eyeline stood Eren, who had already begun sweeping.

They stared at each other.

"Where's the mop at?"

Levi had been having a pretty fair day- which was saying a lot. He was going to met you at the front part of building but before then he'd figure he'd check up on the two brats he'd put on stable duty.

Sure, maybe the reason he sent them on stable duty was for more selfish reasons then helpful ones. But Eren and Jean's apprehension to one another annoyed the hell out of him, not to mention he enjoyed causing a little innocent chaos where his cadets were concerned.

At the root though was you. Those brats saw you day and night, 24/7. He had noticed they way they looked at you, the way Eren refused to be with any other squad or person unless you were there, the way Jean seemed to follow you around.

That also annoyed the hell out of him. Of course boys in love was something he'd seen many times before.

However he'd never experienced it himself- that was until you came.

He quickly understood that it was your nature to be caring, gentle, and protective. That wasn't what caught his attention, actually.

What caught his attention was the way you worked- your focus, attention, drive. It was all surpremely attractive to him. He'd seen gentle and caring people die too often. Their nature being the reason for it.

But you held yourself differently. You had something more calculated driving you, and you weren't just another person Levi had to worry about.

That combination of skill and personality made Levi comfortable and much less tense.

He walked into the stable, seeing the two men begrudgingly work to clean the floor.

"Oi, brats, you missed a spot."

At the sound of his voice they turned, jumping to salute him.

"I'll be back around five, so that should be enough time for this shithole to be spotless."

"Yes, sir."

"No problem, Captain Levi."

He turned.

"Wait, captain!" Eren's voice caused him to turn back around albeit a bit threateningly. "What, brat?"

"Where are you going?" Eren was well aware that Levi rarely left- if ever during a day off so the Captain's sudden departure worried him- was there a titan problem he should know about?

Levi smiled to the shock of his cadets.

"Oh, I'm going on a date."

He turned.

"With y/n."

He left, the door swinging close behind him.

Jean and Eren watched him go, frozen in place at his words.

"You've got to be kidding me."

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A/n: thanks for reading! Remember requests are open and criticism is always welcome.

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[just-someone-who-likes-to-write]

May I request Nuada with a human reader that is a new witch. Something fluffy maybe?

Again, no access to my laptop yet, but I will try my best to do the request through my phone, and again I am so sorry for the errors!

I was planning for this to be simple and fluffy story but my imagination went a but wild but it still has many fluffs!! Please enjoy!!

You closed as you held your hand forward to the fire bowl in front of you, clearing your senses you tried to connect with it but was unable to.

"Concentrate, (Y/n)." Said your teacher, and you tried but still felt no connection to the element. "Most witches can manipulate fire, you are just not trying enough."

Her words made you angry, which made your determination to proof her wrong rise. You took a few steps forward, believing that maybe the problem is with the distance, but you quickly stopped and pulled away when you got too close and almost burned your hands. Your teacher let out a disappointed sigh as you checked your hand for any injury.

"What am I going to do with you?" She said getting your attention. "You can't manipulate objects, or teleport, or control a simple human mind, and now not even control fire!"

You said nothing only held your hand in front of you and kept your head down in shame.

"You are a good Brewer, I admit that." She said. "But any other witch can be a Brewer, even humans even they had the ingredients!"

"I'm sorry... " was all you could say.

"Saying sorry without accomplishing anything doesn't make you any useful to the King!"

"What is the meaning of this?"

A familiar boming voice called making both you and your teacher tense as you turned to the double doors. Right there stood Prince nuada, his signature frown showed on his face and he made his way towards the two of you.

"Your royal highness!" Exclaimed your teacher who quickly bowed and you followed her action. You kept your head down until you saw his shoes standing in front of you.

"Raise your head." He ordered and you did. His golden eyes met yours fir a brief moment before looking to your teacher.

"What honor do we have that his highness decided to visit us?" Your teacher said with a smile, you'd have believed she was in a good mood if she didn't just yell at you a few moments ago.

"I came to see the progress of your students, but only could hear yelling from the end of the hall." He said in a very displeased manner making your teacher tense.

A few months ago the Elf King had extended a hand to the witches, asking for thier aid against the human and offering protection and ressources as an exchange. Your Cover was one of the few who agreed to stand by the King. However, unlike your sisters you weren't as talented as them, they could conjure spells to fight and defend against humans but you could do none of that. So your teacher had decided to use the King's ressources as a chance to give you better education, hoping your power would awake, but it didn't.

"My deepest apology your highness." She said bowing again. "It's just one of my student is being... Difficult."

"Difficult?" He repeated in question. "Elaborate."

She then went onto this rant of how you can't do anything, how you can't manifest one spell that could benefit the King or your self at that matter. The more she talked the more you wanted to dig a hole into the ground and hide yourself in it, you clenched your dress, fighting back tears of frustration. You were doing your best, and she doesn't even giving credit for that as she continued saying your were lazy. It only took for the Prince to lift his hand up for the elder witch to be silenced.

"I will be dealing with the young lady personally." He said but you kept your head down, missing how troubled your teacher looked.

"that's... That's very generous of you your highness, but I can't imagine letting you-"

"You said that this young witch is wasting resources, time, and refusing to learn. " he cut her off. "So I need to personal make her understand the wrongs of her actions."

It was a short while until your teacher finally walked away to leave the room. The Prince stood right in front of you but said and did nothing until both of you heard the double doors shut. It was silence between you two, only the cracking of wood in the fire behind you could be heard. Nuada reached forward, placed his hand under you chin and gently lifted your head so your sad eyes could meet his affectionate ones.

"My little witch, why do you look so sad?" He asked concerned. You pulled away from his hand.

"My teacher is right I can't do even one simple spell." You said. "But I swear it's not because I'm lazy!"

"I know my dear." He assured, and even though you are grateful to know that he was at your side, it still didn't make you feel any better.

You and Nuada had started this secret friendship of yours when he found you wondering around the royal library, which later you found out it was forbidden for anyone else but the royal family to enter, that day to apologized none stop, which amused the Prince. After that he kept finding you, always saying that he wants to make sure you won't be going to any forbidden areas, and from that some kind of a friendship blossomed between you two. But you wanted to keep it a secret, because if anyone found out of the kind of treatment he is giving you they'd think he is picking favorites.

"Let's go to the garden." He said pulling you out of your thoughts.

"But we can't be seen in public together. " you said. "Everyone would get ideas."

"What ideas?" He asked raising a brow.

"That there is something between us." You answered with a shrug.

"And what is wrong with that?"

his question made look up to him with confusion, but you couldn't see the look he had for he was already making his way to the double doors, obviously not taking a "No" for an answer and with a tired sigh you followed. As expected your teacher was right outside waiting, when she asked nuada simply answered that he needs to show you just how much they are giving hoping it would motivate you to work hard, which was an obvious lie but your teacher seems to believe him as she continued to thank him for his "merciful" choice of a lesson for you. You just repressed rolling your eyes as you followed nuada to the royal Garden.

When you first arrived to the Bethmoora clan palace, King Balor has welcomed you, as well as other covens with open arms and provided a tour in the palace so you may know where to go and where was what, and so far, Your favorite area was the garden. You walked side by side with Nuada in silence, he had his hands behind his back, his posture straight and head held high like a true Prince, while you wondered around at almost every touching it and smiling them, except for those, which were poisonous but admured from afar.

"You truly love nature don't you, little witch." Said Nuada breaking the silence.

"I do very much so." You confirmed. "I used to go on walks in the woods when I was younger, just find a beautiful tree with plenty of shade to set beneath and read... "

You paused as your smile slowly turned into a frown.

"It all changed when humans started hunting us down." You sighed. "We had to hide away, which means no going outside, I was very depressed being stuck in for walls with nothing else to do but practice, practice practice!"

Your last outburst made nuada chuckle.

"Glad to know my pain amuses you." You said with a pout.

"Never, my dear." He said with a smile. "You can simply be too adorable I can't help it."

His statement made you blush and your turned your head away pretending to inspect the flowers below. After knowing the Prince for a few weeks he started saying these complements that left you beaming red, you just assumed it was his nature to do so, but whenever he was with other people he'd be the scary intimidating Prince who's no-one dared to address him in less than his given title, but when the both of you alone, he insist on you calling him by his name.

"(Y/n), I have a question for you." He said having your full attention.

"Yes?" Whenever he called you by your name it's serious.

"Witches can have different powers an abilities, correct?"

"Yes, every Witches Coven is different than the other, for example I heard of those who can use dolls, which is strange yet intriguing."

"And you cannot do the same things your coven does, am I Correct?" He asked again.

"Yes... " Your shoulders slumped and as your brows furrowed in a sad manner.

"Then have you ever considered that maybe you do not share the same abilities as your sisters?" He finally asked and you gave him a look of bewilderment.

"What are you trying to say?"

"What I am trying to same my dear little witch, is that you cannot do the things your sister can do easily... " He said and you almost gonna retort angrily but he continued. "Because you do not carry the same ability as them."

"Are you saying that I carry different abilities?" You asked looking down at your hands.

Nuada started to lead you to another part of the garden a more private part near the palace walls where vines stretched high against the wall. And you would have questioned the location if you weren't already questioning yourself.

"Set down." Said nuada breaking out of your train of thoughts.

"Where are we?" You asked looking around confused as nuada lead you to set in a clear spot with no plants just grass.

"This is my secret place." He answered. " no-one knows of it except Nuala."

"Why did you bring me here?"

"To do this."

He said before pinning you against the wall. Your eyes were widened in shock, your (E/c) eyes met his golden once, he started to slowly lean down, and move brought his mouth closer to your ear.

"May I steal a kiss?" He asked almost timidly,and a blush crossed your face at the request.

You would be lying if you said you didn't dream about your relationship with Nuada to grow more of that of a friendship,but to happen so suddenly and finding out he to desired it, in such private place like this made your heart beat fast. You lowered your head and gave a timid nod giving your consent. The Prince delighted,he lifted your head up and chuckled probably by how tight you kept your eyes closed, but that didn't stop him as he leaned down and pressed his lips against your own. The kiss wasn't agressive or passionate, it was a simple chaste kiss that still made you feel as if your spirit has flown to the heavens and came back as he slowly pulled away. that was your first kis but it left you in such daze that you didn't hear what Nuada said.

"huh?.. What?" You asked quickly looking uo to him. He smirked at your reaction.

"I'm happy to see what kind of effect does my touch have on you.. "He said making you want to look away but he quickly stopped you and made you look above you. "However, you too seem to have a special touch of your own."

He was correct, because the simple green vine that was behind you has many white flowers blooming on it and you were speechless because they weren't there before. You pulled away to have a better look and the flowers seems to go as much as the vines, even the vines seem to have taken even larger parts of the palace.

"I... I did that?" You asked in wonder.

"You did, my little witch." He said with pride as he wrapoed his arms around you and hugged your from behind. "Yes you did my darling (Y/n)."

---

Nuada was waiting at the end of the hall where your teacher's chamber were, he could have waited right outside but he didn't want to draw attention. He heard the doors open and you bowing one last time to your teacher before closing the door and leaving. You had entered empty handed but got out with many different books in your arma that you struggled to lift. Nuada hurried by your side to carry them from you.

"What did she say?" He asked, and you gave him a big excited smile that brought his own.

"You are looking at the very first green witch in our coven!" You almost screamed.

"A green witch?" Nuada asked confused.

"Yes, I can't manipulate or create fire like my sisters." You started to explain. "But I can and will be able to manipulate plants, rocks, animals, the earth and weather!"

"And these books will help you?" He asked looking down at the books that talked about different plants, herba and history of green witches.

"Yes, and I can't wait to read them all." You gave a shy smile to nuada. "Thank you for helping me realize my true powers."

"Why are you thanking me?" He asked genuinely confused.

"You knew in was a green witch." You said. "You told me how I can be different kind of witch than my sisters and took me to... That place."

You blushed at the memory of that kiss.

"You are mistaken my dear, for I didn't know you were a witch of nature." He confessed.

"But... The kiss... " you trailed off.

"I kissed you because I wanted to do so for a long time now." He said with a mischievous grin. "And judging by the way you reacted you wanted the same thing."

Your face was pure red as you snatched the rest of the books from his hands and ran away to your room, being embarrassed made you forget how heavy the books were and hearing Nuada's amused laugh from behind didn't make it better, but for some reason you couldn't help the smile on your face for you just found out that Nuada returned your feelings.

---

Again sorry for any errors, or if it's too long and I hope you enjoyed it!

[yumeka36]

I purchased a copy of the new post-Frozen 2 book, “Elsa and the Enchanted Forest” (a.k.a, “Olaf’s Unicorn” in French). It cracks me up that Elsa is that much more marketable in Japan that they had to completely change the title when ”Olaf’s Unicorn” makes much more sense for this story, lol...but I digress. For a book aimed at very little kids, it’s actually a pretty cute story, plus it has a ton of original and gorgeous illustrations! It’s also the first post-movie book to focus on Elsa in the forest rather than Anna and co. in Arendelle, which is a nice change (though it doesn’t provide much lore-wise, not that I expect it to, lol). Of course I love seeing all of Frohana together, but there’s something wholesome about Elsa, Olaf, and Sven frolicking around in the pretty forest. I think this is the first Frozen story that’s only focused on them, which is kind of refreshing.

I decided to spoil you guys by providing both HD scans AND a full translation ;) The book is actually quite small (literally the size of a CD case. I almost thought that’s what it was when I opened the package!) and is bound in a way that makes it easy to scan. Plus, it’s obviously aimed at very young children, even younger than the previous books I scanned, and thus is written in very easy Japanese. This made it quick to translate - I only had to look up a few words! (I majored in Japanese in college, but I have gotten a little rusty over the years).

Enjoy! And as usual, feel free to use the scans, but credit to me would be nice ;)

The unicorn is a gallant creature with a horn on its forehead. The moment Olaf first heard about this legendary creature, he was smitten. "Hey, Sven. Don't you want to meet a unicorn?"

"But where is it? If I were a unicorn, where would I live…? I know, an enchanted forest! Let's go, Sven!" Elsa suddenly appeared, delighting Olaf and Sven. Then she said after hearing their story, "I'll help you search for the unicorn."

-I know there’s only been a few post-movie books/comics that show the forest, but so far, not even a cameo of the Northuldra. It’s like it’s only Elsa, the spirits, and reindeer/other animals that live there. The Northuldra wouldn’t fit with this story in particular, but still...I have to wonder if the authors of these stories simply have no need or desire to show them in these relatively few stories, or if it’s a specific restriction by heads at Disney.

Alright, let's go! Naturally, Olaf led the way. The three of them passed in front of the earth spirits: the earth giants. Olaf's eyes sparkled. "I have an idea!" The earth giants listened to Olaf's request and let everyone ride in their large palms. Then they lifted them slowly…

-Rare image of earth giants smiling :)

Higher! Higher! They were able to look far over the forest. "Look! That cloud looks like a unicorn!" Unfortunately, they weren't able to find a real unicorn.

-Rare image of earth giants smiling #2 :) Also, Elsa looks so pretty in all these pictures~

When the three of them descended the cliffs, a stream of leaves whooshed…it was the wind spirit, Gale. Gale entwined the sticks on Olaf's head into one, creating a horn. Elsa smiled. "Gale wants to join us!" Everyone ran off with Gale.

When they left the forest, there was a sunny field. Olaf instinctively lowered his voice. "I feel like it's here. It was in the book. Unicorns love flowers and insects!" It looked like there was someone over in the shaking grass. Olaf carefully took a peek…

It was Bruni, the fire spirit. Bruni joined their group and immediately made a big discovery. He found someone's footprints! "Bruni, these are definitely unicorn footprints!" Olaf and the others quickly followed the footprints…

-I’m not the biggest Bruni fan, but he looks freakin’ adorable in that picture on the left!

Sven was there. He left the others so he could eat some grass because he was hungry. At that moment, Olaf had another good idea. "Hey, if we were together with a unicorn, the real unicorn would feel safe and come out, right?" Elsa giggled and used her magic to put a horn of ice on Sven's forehead.

-Why does it look like Sven’s being punished here, lol?

Something caught Olaf's eye while walking together with Sven (who was looking like a unicorn) besides a large river. A horse was reflected in the water. On its forehead, was a single horn! But when he turned around, it was the water spirit, Nokk. The thing that looked like a horn was the branch of a tree behind him.

Olaf let out a sigh and Elsa said happily, "Let's go to the Dark Sea!" Nokk and Sven ran off like the wind. Olaf regained his cheerfulness. "Everyone, thank you for your help. We weren't able to find a unicorn, but I…" At that moment, Elsa shouted, "Olaf, look!"

-Rare image of Nokk smiling :)

When he turned to look…Is that a bright, shining horn approaching! He was impressed when he saw it do a big jump. "Wow, a narwhal! Hey, did you know? Narwhals are called the 'unicorns of the sea.' Isn't that great? We were able to meet a unicorn!"

-Rare image of Nokk smiling #2 :) Also my Frozen theorist brain says that the Dark Sea was constantly raging in order to keep Ahtohallan hidden, but it’s calm now because a fifth spirit is currently protecting Ahtohallan instead. Hence, animals like the narwhal can now swim in it.

That night, Anna and Kristoff were thoroughly surprised by Olaf's adventure tale of finding a legendary creature. As for Sven, who had been continuously running around all day…half of it was already a dream.

[unpopularwiththepopulace]

A retrospective on some of Broadway’s most important female costume designers across the last century

How much is our memory or perception of a production influenced by the manner in which we visually comprehend the characters for their physical appearance and attire? A lot.

How much attention in memory is often dedicated to celebrating the costume designers who create the visual forms we remember? Comparatively, not much.

Delving through the New York Public Library archives of late, I found I was able to zoom into pictures of productions like Sunday in the Park with George at a magnitude greater than before.

In doing so, I noticed myself marvelling at finer details on the costumes that simply aren’t visible from grainy 1985 proshots, or other lower resolution images.

And marvel I did.

At first, I began to set out to address the contributions made to the show by designer Patricia Zipprodt in collaboration with Ann Hould-Ward. Quickly I fell into a (rather substantial) tangent rabbit hole – concerning over a century’s worth of interconnected designers who are responsible for hundreds of some of the most memorable Broadway shows between them.

It is impossible to look at the work of just one or two of these women without also discussing the others that came before them or were inspired by them.

Journey with me then if you will on this retrospective endeavour to explore the work and legacy that some of these designers have created, and some of the contexts in which they did so.

A set of podcasts featuring Ann Hould-Ward, including Behind the Curtain (Ep. 229) and Broadway Nation (Eps. 17 and 18), invaluably introduce some of the information discussed here and, most crucially, provide a first-hand, verbal link back to this history. The latter show sets out the case for a “succession of dynamic women that goes back to the earliest days of the Broadway musical and continues right up to today”, all of whom “were mentored by one or more of the great [designers] before them, [all] became Tony award-winning [stars] in their own right, and [all] have passed on the [craft] to the next generation.”

A chronological, linear descendancy links these designers across multiple centuries, starting in 1880 with Aline Bernstein, then moving to Irene Sharaff, then to Patricia Zipprodt, then to the present day with Ann Hould-Ward. Other designers branch from or interact with this linear chronology in different ways, such as Florence Klotz and Ann Roth – who, like Patricia Zipprodt, were also mentored by Aline Bernstein – or Theoni V. Aldredge, who stands apart from this connected tree, but whose career closely parallels the chronology of its central portion. There were, of course, many other designers and women also working within this era that provided even further momentous contributions to the world of costume design, but in this piece, the focus will remain primarily on these seven figures.

As the main creditor of the designs for Sunday in the Park with George, let’s start with Patricia (Pat) Zipprodt.

Born in 1925, Pat studied at the Fashion Institute of Technology (FIT) in New York after winning a scholarship there in 1951. Through teaching herself “all of costume history by studying materials at the New York Public Library”, she passed her entrance exam to the United Scenic Artists Union in 1954. This itself was a feat only possible through Aline Bernstein’s pioneering steps in demanding and starting female acceptance into this same union for the first time just under 30 years previously.

Pat made her individual costume design debut a year after assisting Irene Sharaff on Happy Hunting in 1956 – Ethel Merman’s last new Broadway credit. Of the more than 50 shows she subsequently designed, some of Pat’s most significant musicals include: She Loves Me (1963) Fiddler on the Roof (1964) Cabaret (1966) Zorba (1968) 1776 (1969) Pippin (1972) Mack & Mabel (1974) Chicago (1975) Alice in Wonderland (1983) Sunday in the Park with George (1984) Sweet Charity (1986) Into the Woods (1987) - preliminary work

Other notable play credits included: The Little Foxes (1967) The Glass Menagerie (1983) Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1990)

Yes. One person designed all of those shows. Many of the most beloved pieces in modern musical theatre history. Somewhat baffling.

Her work notably earned her 11 Tony nominations, 3 wins, an induction into the Theatre Hall of Fame in 1992, and the Irene Sharaff award for lifetime achievement in costume design in 1997.

By 1983, Pat was one of the most well-respected designers of her era. When the offer for Sunday in the Park with George came in, she was less than enamoured by being confined to the ill-suited basements at Playwright’s Horizons all day, designing full costumes for a story not even yet in existence. From-the-ground-up workshops are common now, but at the time, Sunday was one of the first of its kind.

Rather than flatly declining, she asked Ann Hould-Ward, previously her assistant and intern who had now been designing for 2-3 years on her own, if she was interested in collaborating. She was. The two divided the designing between them, like Pat creating Bernadette’s opening pink and white dress, and Ann her final red and purple dress.

Which indeed leads to the question of the infamous creation worn in the opening number. No attemptedly comprehensive look at the costumes in Sunday would be complete without addressing it or its masterful mechanics.

To enable Bernadette to spring miraculously and seemingly effortlessly from her outer confines, Ann and Pat enlisted the help of a man with a “Theatre Magics” company in Ohio. Dubbed ‘The Iron Dress’, the gasp-inducing motion required a wire frame embedded into the material, entities called ‘moonwalker legs and feet’, and two garage door openers coming up through the stage to lever the two halves apart. The mechanism – highly impressive in its periods of functionality – wasn’t without its flaws. Ann recalls “there were nights during previews where [Bernadette] couldn’t get out of the dress”. Or worse, a night where “the dress closed up completely. And it wouldn’t open up again!”. As Bernadette finished her number, there was nothing else within her power she could do, so she simply “grabbed it under her arm and carried it off stage.”

What visuals. Evidently, the course of costume design is not always plain sailing.

This sentiment is exhibited in the fact design work is a physical materialisation of other creators’ visions, thus foregrounding the tricky need for collaboration and compromise. This is at once a skill, very much part of the job description, and not always pleasant – in navigating any divides between one’s own ideas and those of other people.

Sunday in the Park with George was no exception in requiring such a moment of compromise and revision. With the show already on Broadway in previews, Stephen Sondheim decreed the little girl Louise’s dress “needs to be white” – not the “turquoisey blue” undertone Pat and Ann had already created it with. White, to better spotlight the painting’s centre.

Requests for alterations are easier to comprehend when they are done with equanimity and have justification. Sondheim said he would pay for the new dress himself, and in Seurat’s original painting, the little girl is very brightly the focal centre point of the piece. On this occasion, all agreed that Sondheim was “absolutely right”. A new dress was made.

Other artistic differences aren’t always as amicable.

In Pat Zipprodt’s first show, Happy Hunting with Ethel Merman in 1956, some creatives and directors were getting in vociferous, progress-stopping arguments over a dress and a scene in which Ethel was to jump over a fence. Then magically, the dress went missing. Pat was working at the time as an assistant to the senior Irene Sharaff, and Pat herself was the one to find the dress the next morning. It was in the basement. Covered in black and wholly unwearable. Sharaff had spray painted the dress black in protest against the “bickering”. Indeed, Sharaff disappeared, not to be seen again until the show arrived on Broadway.

Those that worked with her soon found that Sharaff was one to be listened to and respected – as Hal Prince did during West Side Story. After the show opened in 1957, Hal replaced her 40 pairs of meticulously created and individually dyed, battered, and re-dyed jeans with off-the-rack copies. His reasoning was this: “How foolish to be wasting money when we can make a promotional arrangement with Levi Strauss to supply blue jeans free for program credit?” A year later, he looked at their show, and wondered “What’s happened?”

What had happened was that the production had lost its spark and noticeable portions of its beauty, vibrancy, and subtle individuality. Sharaff’s unique creations quickly returned, and Hal had learned his lesson. By the time Sharaff’s mentee, Pat, had “designed the most expensive rags for the company to wear” with this same idiosyncratic dyeing process for Fiddler on the Roof in 1964, Hal recognised the value of this particularity and the disproportionately large payoff even ostensibly simple garments can bring.

Irene Sharaff is remembered as one of the greatest designers ever. Born in 1910, she was mentored by Aline Bernstein, first assisting her on 1928’s original staging of Hedda Gabler.

Throughout her 56 year career, she designed more than 52 Broadway musicals. Some particularly memorable entities include: The Boys from Syracuse (1938) Lady in the Dark (1943) Candide (1956) Happy Hunting (1956) Sweet Charity (1966) The King and I (1951, 1956) West Side Story (1957, 1961) Funny Girl (1964, 1968)

For the last three productions, she would reprise her work on Broadway in the subsequent and indelibly enduring film adaptations of the same shows. 

Her work in the theatre earned her 6 Tony nominations and 1 win, though her work in Hollywood was perhaps even more well rewarded – earning 5 Academy Awards from a total of 15 nominations.

Some of Sharaff’s additional film credits included: Meet Me in St. Louis (1944) Ziegfeld Follies (1946) An American in Paris (1951) Call Me Madam (1953) A Star is Born (1954) – partial Guys and Dolls (1955) Cleopatra (1963) Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966) Hello Dolly! (1969) Mommie Dearest (1981)

It’s a remarkable list. But it is too more than just a list.

Famously, Judy’s red scarlet ballgown in Meet Me in St. Louis was termed the “most sophisticated costume [she’d] yet worn on the screen.”

It has been written that Sharaff’s “last film was probably the only bad one on which she worked,” – the infamous pillar of camp culture, Mommie Dearest, in 1981 – “but its perpetrators knew that to recreate the Hollywood of Joan Crawford, it required an artist who understood the particular glamour of the Crawford era.” And at the time, there were very few – if any – who could fill that requirement better than Irene Sharaff. 

The 1963 production of Cleopatra is perhaps an even more infamous endeavour. Notoriously fraught with problems, the film was at that point the most expensive ever made. It nearly bankrupted 20th Century Fox, in light of varying issues like long production delays, a revolving carousel of directors, the beginning of the infamous Burton/Taylor affair and resulting media storm, and bouts of Elizabeth’s ill-health that “nearly killed her”. In that turbulent environment, Sharaff is highlighted as one of the figures instrumental in the film’s eventual completion – “adjusting Elizabeth Taylor’s costumes when her weight fluctuated overnight” so the world finally received the visual spectacle they were all ardently anticipating.

But even beyond that, Sharaff’s work had impacts more significantly and extensively than the immediate products of the shows or films themselves. Within a few years of her “vibrant Thai silk costumes for ‘The King and I’ in 1951, …silk became Thailand’s best-known export.” Her designs changed the entire economic landscape of the country. 

It’s little wonder that in that era, Sharaff was known as “one of the most sought-after and highest-paid people in her profession.” With discussions and favourable comparisions alongside none other than Old Hollywood’s most beloved designer, Edith Head, Irene deserves her place in history to be recognised as one of the foremost significant pillars of the design world.

In this respected position, Irene Sharaff was able to pass on her knowledge by mentoring others too as well as Patricia Zipprodt, like Ann Roth and Florence Klotz, who have in turn gone on to further have their own highly commendable successes in the industry.

Florence “Flossie” Klotz, born in 1920, is the only Broadway costume designer to have won six Tony awards. She did so, all of them for musicals, and all of them directed by Hal Prince, in a marker of their long and meaningful collaboration.

Indeed, Flossie’s life partner was Ruth Mitchell – Hal’s long-time assistant, and herself legendary stage manager, associate director and producer of over 43 shows. Together, Flossie and Ruth were dubbed a “power couple of Broadway”.

Flossie’s shows with Hal included: Follies (1971) A Little Night Music (1973) Pacific Overtures (1976) Grind (1985) Kiss of the Spiderwoman (1993) Show Boat (1995)

And additional shows amongst her credits extend to: Side by Side by Sondheim (1977) On the Twentieth Century (1978) The Little Foxes (1981) A Doll’s Life (1982) Jerry’s Girls (1985)

Earlier in her career, she would first find her footing as an assistant designer on some of the Golden Age’s most pivotal shows like: The King and I (1951) Pal Joey (1952) Silk Stockings (1955) Carousel (1957) The Sound of Music (1959)

The original production of Follies marked the first time Florence was seriously recognised for her work. Before this point, she was not yet anywhere close to being considered as having broken into the ranks of Broadway’s “reigning designers” of that era. Follies changed matters, providing both an indication of the talent of her work to come, and creating history in being commended for producing some of the “best costumes to be seen on Broadway” in recent memory – as Clive Barnes wrote in The New York Times. Fuller discussion is merited given that the costumes of Follies are always one of the show’s central points of debate and have been crucial to the reception of the original production as well as every single revival that has followed in the 50 years since.

In this instance, Ted Chapin would record from his book ‘Everything Was Possible: The Birth of the Musical ‘Follies’ how “the costumes were so opulent, they put the show over-budget.” Moreover, that “talking about the show years later, [Florence] said the costumes could not be made today. ‘Not only would they cost upwards of $2 million, but we used fabrics from England that aren’t even made anymore.’” Broadway then does indeed no longer look like Broadway now.

This “surreal tableau” Flossie created, including “three-foot-high ostrich feather headdresses, Marie Antoinette wigs adorned with musical instruments and birdcages, and gowns embellished with translucent butterfly wings”, remains arguably one of the most impressive and jaw-dropping spectacles to have ever graced a Broadway stage even to this day.

As for Ann Roth, born in 1931, she is still to this day making her own history – recently becoming the joint eldest nominee at 89 for an Oscar (her 5th), for her work on 2020′s Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom. Now as of April 26th, Ann has just made history even further by becoming the oldest woman to win a competitive Academy Award ever. She has an impressive array of Hollywood credits to her name in addition to a roster of Broadway design projects, which have earned her 12 Tony nominations.

Some of her work in the theatre includes: The Women (1973) The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas (1978) They're Playing Our Song (1979) Singin' in the Rain (1985) Present Laughter (1996) Hedda Gabler (2009) A Raisin in the Sun (2014) Shuffle Along (2016) The Prom (2018)

Making her way over to Hollywood in the ‘70s, she has left an indelible and lasting visual impact on the arts through films like: Klute (1971) The Goodbye Girl (1977) Hair (1979) 9 to 5 (1980) Silkwood (1983) Postcards from the Edge (1990) The Birdcage (1996) The Hours (2002) Mamma Mia! (2008) Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (2020)

It’s clear from this branching 'tree' to see how far the impact of just one woman passing on her time and knowledge to others who are starting out can spread.

This art of acting as a conduit for valuable insights was something Irene Sharaff had learned from her own mentor and predecessor, Aline Bernstein. Aline was viewed as “the first woman in the [US] to gain prominence in the male-dominated field of set and costume design,” and was too a strong proponent of passing on the unique knowledge she had acquired as a pioneer and forerunner in the field. 

Born in 1880, Bernstein is recognised as “one of the first theatrical designers in New York to make sets and costumes entirely from scratch and craft moving sets” while Broadway was still very much in its infancy of taking shape as the world we know today. This she did for more than one hundred shows over decades of her work in the theatre. These shows included the spectacular Grand Street Follies (1924-27), and original premier productions of plays like some of the following: Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler (1928) J.M Barrie’s Peter Pan (1928) Grand Hotel (1930) Phillip Barry’s Animal Kingdom (1932) Chekov’s The Seagull (1937) Both Lillian Hellman’s The Children’s Hour (1934) and The Little Foxes (1939)

Beyond direct design work, Bernstein founded what was to become the Neighbourhood Playhouse (the notable New York acting school) and was influential in the “Little Theatre movement that sprung up across America in 1910”. These were the “forerunners of the non-profit theatres we see today” and she continued to work in this realm even after moving into commercial theatre.

Bernstein also established the Museum of Costume Art, which later became the Costume Institute of the Met Museum of Art, where she served as president from 1944 to her death in 1955. This is what the Met Gala raises money for every year. So for long as you have the world’s biggest celebrities parading up and down red carpets in high fashion pieces, you have Aline Bernstein to remember – as none of that would be happening without her.

During the last fifteen years of her life, Bernstein taught and served as a consultant in theatre programs at academic institutions including Yale, Harvard, and Vassar – keen to connect the community and facilitate an exchange of wisdom and information to new descendants and the next generation.

Many designers came somewhere out of this linear descendancy. One notable exception, with no American mentor, was Theoni V. Aldredge. Born in 1922 and trained in Greece, Theoni emigrated to the US, met her husband, Tom Aldredge – himself of Into the Woods and theatre notoriety – and went on to design more than 100 Broadway shows. For her work, she earned 3 Tony wins from 11 nominations from projects such as: Anyone Can Whistle (1964) A Chorus Line (1975) Annie (1977) Barnum (1980) 42nd Street (1980) Woman of the Year (1981) Dreamgirls (1981) La Cage aux Folles (1983) The Rink (1984)

One of the main features that typify Theoni’s design style and could be attributed to a certain unique and distinctive “European flair” is her strong use of vibrant colour. This is a sentiment instantly apparent in looking longitudinally at some of her work.

In Ann Hould-Ward’s words, Theoni speaks to the “great generosity” of this profession. Theoni went out of her way to call Ann apropos of nothing early in the morning at some unknown hotel just after Ann won her first Tony for Beauty and the Beast in 1994, purring “Dahhling, I told you so!” These were women that had their disagreements, yes, but ultimately shared their knowledge and congratulated each other for their successes.

Similar anecdotal goodwill can be found in Pat Zipprodt’s call to Ann on the night of the 1987 Tony’s – where Ann was nominated for Into the Woods – with Pat singing “Have wonderful night! You’re not gonna win! …[laugh] but I love you anyway!”

This well-wishing phone call is all the more poignant considering Pat was originally involved with doing the costumes for Into the Woods, in reprise of their previous collaboration on Sunday in the Park with George.

If, for example, Theoni instinctively is remembered for bright colour, one of the features that Pat is first remembered for is her dedicated approach to research for her designs. Indeed, the New York Public Library archives document how the remaining physical evidence of this research she conducted is “particularly thorough” in the section on Into the Woods. Before the show finally hit Broadway in 1987 with Ann Hould-Ward’s designs, records show Pat had done extensive investigation herself into materials, ideas and prospective creations all through 1986.

Both Ann and Pat worked on the show out of town in try-outs at the Old Globe theatre in San Diego. But when it came to negotiating Broadway contracts, the situation became “tricky” and later “untenable” with Pat and the producers. Ann was “allowed to step in and design” the show alone instead.

The lack of harboured resentment on Patricia’s behalf speaks to her character and the pair’s relationship, such that Ann still considered her “my dear and beloved friend” for over 25 years, and was “at [Pat’s] bed when she died”.

Though they parted ways ultimately for Into the Woods, you can very much feel a continuation between their work on Sunday in the Park with George a few years previously, especially considering how tactile the designs appear in both shows. This tactility is something the shows’ book writer and director, James Lapine, was specific about. Lapine would remark in his initial ideas and inspirations that he wanted a graphic quality to the costumes on this occasion, like “so many sketches of the fairy-tales do”.

Ann fed that sentiment through her final creations, with a wide variety of materials and textures being used across the whole show – like “ribbons with ribbons seamed through them”, “all sorts of applique”, “frothy organzas and rembriodered organzas”. A specific example documents how Joanna Gleason’s shawl as the Baker’s Wife was pieced together, cut apart, and put back together again before resembling its final form.

This highly involved principle demonstrates another manner of inventive design that uses a different method but maintains the aim of particularity as discussed previously with Patricia and Irene’s complex dyeing and re-dyeing process. Pushing the confines of what is possible with the materials at hand to create a variety of colours, shades, and textures ultimately produces visual entities that are complex to look at. Confusing the eye like this “holds attention longer”, Ann maintains, which makes viewers look more intricately at individual segments of the production, and enables the costume design to guide specific focus by not immediately ceding attention elsewhere.

Understanding the methods behind the resultant impacts of a show can be as, if not more, important and interesting than the final product of the show itself sometimes. A phone call Ann had last August with James Lapine reminds us this is a notion we may be treated more to in the imminent future, when he called to enquire as to the location of some design sketches for the book he is working on (Putting It Together: How Stephen Sondheim and I Created 'Sunday in the Park with George') to document more thoroughly the genesis of the pair’s landmark and beloved musical.

In continuation of the notion that origin stories contain their own intrinsic value beyond any final product, Ann first became Pat’s intern through a heart-warming and tenacious tale. Ann sent letters to three notable designers when finishing graduate school. Only Patricia Zipprodt replied, with a message to say she “didn’t have anything now but let me think about it and maybe in the future.” It got to the future, and Ann took the encouragement of her previous response to try and contact Pat again. Upon being told she was out of town with a show, Ann proceeded to chase Pat through various phone books and telephone wires across different states and theatres until she finally found her. She was bolstered by the specifics of their call and ran off the phone to write an imploring note – hinging on the premise of a shared connection to Montana. She took an arrow, stabbed it through a cowboy hat, put it in a box with the note that was written on raw hide, and mailed it to New York with bated breath and all of her hopes and wishes.

Pat was knife-edgingly close to missing the box, through a matter of circumstance and timing. Importantly, she didn’t. Ann got a response, and it boded well: “Alright alright alright! You can come to New York!”

Subsequently, Ann’s long career in the design world of the theatre has included notable credits such as: Sunday in the Park with George (1984) Into the Woods (1987, 1997) Falsettos (1992) Beauty and the Beast (1994, 1997) Little Me (1998) Company (2006) Road Show (2008) The People in the Picture (2011) Merrily We Roll Along (1985, 1990, 2012, segment in Six by Sondheim 2013) Passion (2013) The Visit (2015) The Color Purple (2015) The Prince of Egypt (2021)

From early days in the city sleeping on a piece of foam on a friend’s floor, to working collaboratively alongside Pat, to using what she’d learnt from her mentor in designing whole shows herself, and going on to win prestigious awards for her work – the cycle of the theatre and the importance of handing down wisdom from those who possess it is never more evident.

As Ann summarises it meaningfully, “the theatre is a continuing, changing, evolving, emotional ball”. It’s raw, it’s alive, it needs people, it needs stories, it needs documentation of history to remember all that came before.

In periods where there can physically be no new theatre, it’s made ever the more clear for the need not to forget what value there is in the tales to be told from the past.

Through this retrospective, we’ve seen the tour de force influence of a relatively small handful of women shaping a relatively large portion of the visual scape of some of Broadway’s brightest moments.

But it’s significant to consider how disproportionate this female impact was, in contrast with how massively male dominated the rest of the creative theatre industry has been across the last century.

Assessing variations in attitudes and approaches to relationships and families in these women in the context of their professional careers over this time period presents interesting observations. And indeed, manners in which things have changed over the past hundred years.

As Ann Hould-Ward speaks of her experiences, one of her reflections is how much this was a “very male dominated world”. And one that didn’t accommodate for women with families who also wanted careers. As an intern, she didn’t even feel she could tell Patricia Zipprodt about the existence of her own young child until after 6 months of working with her. With all of these male figures around them, it would be often questioned “How are you going to do the work? How are you going to manage [with a family]?”, and that it was “harder to convince people that you were going to be able to do out-of-towns, to be able to go places.” Simply put, the industry “didn't have many designers who were married with children.”

Patricia herself in the previous generation demonstrates this restricting ethos. “In 1993, Zipprodt married a man whose proposal she had refused some 43 years earlier.” She had just newly graduated college and “she declined [his proposal] and instead moved to New York.” Faced with the family or career conundrum, she chose the latter. By the 1950s, it then wasn’t seen as uncommon to have both, it was seen as impossible.

Her husband died just five years after the pair were married in 1998, as did Patricia herself the following year. One has to wonder if alternative decisions would’ve been made and lives lived differently if she’d experienced a different context for working women in her younger life.

But occupying any space in the theatre at all was only possible because of the efforts of and strides made by women in previous generations.

When Aline Bernstein first started designing for Broadway theatre in 1916, women couldn’t even vote. She became the first female member of the United Scenic Artists of America union in 1926, but only because she was sworn in under the false and male moniker of brother Bernstein. In fact, biographies often centralise on her involvement in a “passionate” extramarital love affair with novelist Thomas Wolfe – disproportionately so for all of her remarkable contributions to the theatrical, charitable and academic worlds, and instead having her life defined through her interactions with men.

As such, it is apparent how any significant interactions with men often had direct implications over a woman’s career, especially in this earlier half of the century. Only in their absence was there comparative capacity to flourish professionally.

Irene Sharaff had no notable relationships with men. She did however have a significant partnership with Chinese-American painter and writer Mai-mai Sze from “the mid-1930s until her death”. Though this was not (nor could not be) publicly recognised or documented at the time, later by close acquaintances the pair would be described as a “devoted couple”, “inseparable”, and as holding “love and admiration for one another [that] was apparent to everyone who knew them.” This manner of relationship for Irene in the context of her career can be theorised as having allowed her the capacity to “reach a level of professional success that would have been unthinkable for most straight women of [her] generation”.

Moving forwards in time, Irene and Mai-mai presently rest where their ashes are buried under “two halves of the same rock” at the entrance to the Music and Meditation Pavilion at Lucy Cavendish College in Cambridge, which was “built following a donation by Sharaff and Sze”. I postulate that this site would make for an interesting slice of history and a perhaps more thought-provoking deviation for tourists away from being shepherded up and down past King’s College on King’s Parade as more usually upon a visit to Cambridge.

In this more modern society at the other end of this linear tree of remarkable designers, options for women to be more open and in control of their personal and professional lives have increased somewhat.

Ann Hould-Ward later in her career would no longer “hide that [she] was a mother”, in fear of not being taken seriously. Rather, she “made a concerted effort to talk about [her] child”, saying “because at that point I had a modicum of success. And I thought it was supportive for other women that I could do this.”

If one aspect passed down between these women in history are details of the craft and knowledge accrued along the way, this statement by Ann represents an alternative facet and direction that teaching of the future can take. Namely, that by showing through example, newer generations will be able to comprehend the feasibility of occupying different options and spaces as professional women. Existing not just as designers, or wives, or mothers, or all, or one – but as people, who possess an immense talent and skill. And that it is now not just possible, but common, to be multifaceted and live the way you want to live while working.

This is not to say all of the restrictions and barriers faced by women in previous generations have been removed, but rather that as we build a larger wealth of history of women acting with autonomy and control to refer back to, things can only get easier to build upon for the future.

Who knows what Broadway and theatre in general will look like when it returns – both on the surface with respect to this facet of costume design, and also more deeply as to the inner machinations of how shows are put together and presented. The largely male environment and the need to tick corporate and commercial boxes will not have vanished. One can only hope that this long period of stasis will have foregrounded the need and, most importantly, provided the time to revaluate the ethos in which shows are often staged, and the ways in which minority groups – like women – are able to work and be successful within the theatre in all of the many shows to come. 

Notable sources:

Photographs – predominantly from the New York Public Library digital archives. IBDB – the Internet Broadway Database. Broadway Nation Podcast (Eps. #17 and #18), David Armstrong, featuring Ann Hould-Ward, 2020. Behind the Curtain: Broadway’s Living Legends Podcast (Ep. #229), Robert W Schneider and Kevin David Thomas, featuring Ann Hould-Ward, 2020. Sense of Occasion, Harold Prince, 2017. Everything Was Possible: The Birth of the Musical ‘Follies’, Ted Chapin, 2003. Finishing the Hat: Collected Lyrics (1954–1981) with Attendant Comments, Principles, Heresies, Grudges, Whines and Anecdotes, Stephen Sondheim, 2010. The Complete Book of 1970s Broadway Musicals, Dan Deitz, 2015. The Complete Book of 1980s Broadway Musicals, Dan Dietz, 2016. Inventory of the Patricia Zipprodt Papers and Designs at the New York Public Library, 2004 – https://www.nypl.org/sites/default/files/archivalcollections/pdf/thezippr.pdf Extravagant Crowd’s Carl Van Vecten’s Portraits of Women, Aline Bernstein – http://brbl-archive.library.yale.edu/exhibitions/cvvpw/gallery/bernstein.html Jewish Heroes & Heroines of America: 150 True Stories of American Jewish Heroism – Aline Bernstein, Seymour Brody, 1996 – https://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/aline-bernstein Ann Hould-Ward Talks Original “Into the Woods” Costume Designs, 2016 – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4EPe77c6xzo&ab_channel=Playbill American Theatre Wing’s Working in the Theatre series, The Design Panel, 1993 – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9sp-aMQHf-U&t=2167s&ab_channel=AmericanTheatreWing Journal of the History of Ideas Blog, Mai-mai Sze and Irene Sharaff in Public and in Private, Erin McGuirl, 2016 – https://jhiblog.org/2016/05/16/mai-mai-sze-and-irene-sharaff-in-public-and-in-private/ Irene Sharaff’s obituary, The New York Times, Marvine Howe, 1993 – https://www.nytimes.com/1993/08/17/obituaries/irene-sharaff-designer-83-dies-costumes-won-tony-and-oscars.html Obituary: Irene Sharaff, The Independent, David Shipman, 2011 – https://www.independent.co.uk/news/people/obituary-irene-sharaff-1463219.html Broadway Design Exchange – Florence Klotz – https://www.broadwaydesignexchange.com/collections/florence-klotz Obituary: Florence Klotz, The New York Times, 2006 – https://www.nytimes.com/2006/11/03/obituaries/03klotz.html

[walkerwords]

“Just Like Old Times” Rick Grimes x F!Reader

GIF CREDIT: https://gifer.com/en/AjzT and AMC

Request from Anonymous: “ Here's an idea for Rick x Reader! Rick didn't expect to meet his high-school ultimate crush ever again, he didn't expect to see her in Alexandria after so many years, he didn't knew he'd even recognize her, but he did. She changed a lot but the shine in her eyes when she looked at him with a cheeky smile, spreading her arms, saying "Welcome to Alexandria" – it was definitely her. They do say first love dies last.”

Word Count: 3981

Warning: Swearing?

Song I Wrote To: “Back To You” by Selena Gomes

Note: I really liked writing this one. I am a sucker for the crew showing up at Alexandria and meeting someone they once knew. Thank you for the request!

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When the group arrived in Alexandria, led by Aaron and Eric, Rick was on edge immediately. 

He didn’t trust anyone and he knew that the new people were going to be wary of any outsiders who stepped through their walls. Then, of course, Daryl had to shoot an animal and carry it around like a prize, and that only cemented the odd glances the group got as they walked through the gate.

Aaron was sure that Deanna, the leader, was going to welcome Rick and his people with open arms. Alexandria was very particular about who they invited into their walls and she trusted Aaron’s judgment more than anyone else’s.

Walking through the streets of the seemingly untouched community, everything felt wrong. After being on the road for so long, the group was tired, hungry, and had at least four layers of dirt on their skin. Judith squirmed in Rick’s arms as he adjusted her, trying to keep her shielded from the strangers that Aaron led them towards. 

Aaron explained where they were going and a few things about the community itself. They were self-sustaining with the solar panels and even had running water. Rick couldn’t help but be impressed at how modern it seemed, but then again, Woodbury had seemed like a dream too.

Looking over at Daryl, Rick figured the archer was thinking something similar. While Grimes wasn’t ready to write off Alexandria completely, he wasn’t going to let his guard down until he was sure. They had lost too much already to lose something like this with its walls, water, and over all protection. Especially for Judith, Noah, and Carl.

It was then announced that Deanna wanted to speak with them individually in order to establish a connection and assign jobs. Rick had been hesitant at first, but after speaking to both Maggie and Michonne, he relented and followed Aaron into the house, handing off his daughter to his son. 

As soon as the door to Deanna’s house closed, the gate slid open. 

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You felt exhilarated. 

You usually did after a fight like the one you just had. There were some people that were built for the new world and you just fit in it perfectly. Blood was soaked into your clothes, but you couldn’t care less. You were alive and the Dead, were in pieces. All in a day’s work. 

When you had told Aidan that you were going out that morning he had tried to stop you, as usual, but you had simply smiled at him and skipped from the safety of the Safe Zone. You loved Alexandria, it was home, but there were times when you just needed to get out and do something and so, you did. 

Your good mood was soon challenged by the look on Aidan Monroe’s face as you walked towards him. Nicholas shut the gate behind you, muttering under his breath about how reckless you were, but you ignored him

 “What’s that face for?” you asked, catching up to Aidan who picked off a piece of bone from your shoulder with a grimace. 

“Aaron found new people,” Aidan said. 

“Why so glum? He always brings in stragglers,” you said, knocking your boot against the curb of the street trying to dislodge any extra gore before tracking it in further. 

“It’s not just a few people, (Y/N),” Aidan said. “It’s fourteen, plus a baby.” You froze in your steps and looked at him with wide eyes. 

“Fourteen?” 

“Yeah, and the leader seems like a real piece of work,” Aidan said. “Honestly, he kind of scares me.” 

“Damn,” you said, trying to imagine what Aaron was thinking when approaching a group that size. You were even more curious as to how he managed to get them to say yes. 

“I have to go help my dad with something, but be on your guard,” Aidan warned and you punched his chest lightly. 

“Don’t worry about me, Monroe. I am very well versed in strangers,” you said with a wink as you pushed on ahead, desperate for a shower. As you headed towards your house, you could see your many neighbors all looking towards Deanna’s place and you just knew they were trying to get the dirt on the new people. 

Curiosity got the best of you and instead of going straight home, you turned down the other street and began walking towards a group of scruffy travelers.

You spotted the baby immediately. The little thing was in the arms of a young boy, its small body wrapped in a soft but dirty blanket as the teenager rocked back and forth trying to soothe the poor thing. You couldn’t even imagine what would it be like to have a child in the new world, let alone one so small. 

As you neared them, you finally got a better look at the hat that was sitting on the kid’s head. It was oddly familiar.

“You know,” you said, approaching him, “the deputies where I used to live used these same kind of hats.” The teenager looked at you and if he was surprised at your appearance it didn’t show on his face. You did, however, gain the attention of others in his group. You noticed on in particular, a burly man with a crossbow and a possum hanging from his fingers was watching you with close eyes. You ignored him. 

“It’s a King County Sheriff hat,” the boy said, pushing the brim up slightly. 

“No shit,” you said, your brows rising into your bloodied hairline. “That’s my neck of the woods. You’re from King?” he nodded. “Huh, yeah I used to live there. I guess the world is gettin’ smaller after all.” The kid gave you a small smile, but before he could say anything else, the door to your leader’s house opened and a man walked out, his cowboy boots scuffing across the chipped, stone steps. He was tall and just by looking at him you knew that Aidan was right. This man was scary. 

However, there was something incredibly familiar about him. 

After checking on the boy in the hat, his eyes then flickered to you and he froze. His eyes scanned you from head to toe, starting at your bloodied face and going to your gore-laden boots and back up. You were about to ask what the hell his problem was when he opened his mouth and said, “(Y/N)?”

The world around your froze as the Georgia accent reached your ears. You knew that voice or at least some part of you remembered, considering how your heart jumped as soon as he spoke.

Taking a step forward, you narrowed your eyes, trying to see something that was missing. It took you a moment, but then you were able to finally see it. Behind all the dirt, the dried blood, and the very horrendous beard, there was a man you never thought you would see again. Your high school sweetheart, the one who got away, Rick Grimes. 

“Oh my god…” you whispered, taking another step. “Rick?” Grimes was hesitant at first, but then he was walking towards you, his people parting like the sea for their leader. He reached a hand out to you as if to brush away the blood, but then he took you by the arms and pulled you into his chest. 

Your arms went up and tightened around him, holding on for dear life. “I thought you hated growing a beard,” you said into his chest and you could feel the chuckle that vibrated through him at your joke. 

“Very funny,” he said, pressing his face into your hair. When you pulled back, you tried to wipe off the blood that you had transferred to his filthy clothes, but he didn’t seem to mind. Looking up into those cool blue eyes felt like for once, everything was going to be okay. 

“You’re alive?” you asked, reaching out to touch him again, afraid he was a mirage or that you were actually dead and not as victorious as you first thought. 

“I’m alive,” he confirmed. Blinking back the tears that settled in your eyes you laughed, trying to make sense of everything that was going on. 

“Well, uh, then let me be the one to say, welcome to Alexandria.”

--------

Later that night, everyone wanted answers. 

As the group settled into one of the houses that Deanna had provided, everyone looked at Rick expectantly. “I guess you have questions,” a freshly shaven Rick said as he leaned against the back of the couch. 

“You know her,” Carl said.

“I did,” Rick said. “(Y/N) and I knew each other when we were around your age, Carl. We dated in high school. She was the last person I was with before Lori. I honestly never thought I would see her again.” 

“What are the odds that she would be here of all places?” Tara asked as she leaned into Glenn’s side, trying to keep her eyes open. Nobody was willing to blindly sleep yet. Rick and Daryl were already making a plan to take the first watch shifts as well.

“Do you trust her?” Michonne asked Rick. He was quiet for a moment before sighing. 

“I did once,” he admitted, “but I don’t know what she’s been doin’ this whole time?”

“She was covered in blood when she hugged you,” Noah said awkwardly. 

“Deanna’s son said she was on a run,” Maggie explained. 

“We could ask Aaron about her,” offered Carl. 

“Maybe it would be best to hear it from her instead of others,” Rosita put in. “I think we all would feel a bit better knowing more about these people and if Rick has a history with one…”

“She’s got a point, man,” added Abraham.

Rick nodded, but when he went to say something else, there was a knock at the door. Still not used to the concept of knocking or even proper walls, Rick slowly approached the door and opened it hesitantly. When he saw that it was Deanna, he opened it fully.

“Rick, I--” Deanna began and then froze as she looked up at the former officer. “Wow.” Rick groaned as Deanna stared at his now beardless face. “I didn't know what was under there,” she joked and Rick rolled his eyes, already getting enough comments from his people. “Listen, I don't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to stop by and see how you were all settling,” she said and then looked around the room. “Oh, my. Staying together. Smart.”

“No one said we couldn't,” Rick rebutted. Deanna smiled at him.

“You said you're a family,” Deanna recalled, “That's what you said. Absolutely amazing to me how people with completely different backgrounds and nothing in common can become that. Don't you think?” Michonne glanced at Rick with a knowing look that clearly said, “play nice”.

“Everybody said you gave them jobs,” said Rick.

“Part of this place,” Deanna said with a nod, “looks like the communists won after all.”

“You didn’t give me one,” Rick said. 

“I have,” she said. “I just haven't told you yet. Same with Michonne. I'm closing in on something for Sasha.” Deanna then looked at Daryl who was sitting protectively near Judith. “And I'm just trying to figure Mr. Dixon out, but I will.” Daryl turned his eyes toward the window, ignoring the woman. “Well, I will let you get some rest and then tomorrow, maybe you can take a turn about the place. I hear you may already have a friend here,” she said with a knowing look. 

Deanna nodded to the rest of the group and then turned to go. Just before Rick was about to close the door, he spotted you. You stood just outside the house, leaning casually against a light post, arms and ankles both crossed. Deanna smiled at you as she walked towards her house. 

“I’ll be right outside,” Rick told Carl who was nearest to him and then stepped onto the porch, shutting the door behind him. 

“There’s the Rick I remember,” you said as he approached you. 

“I don’t remember you being this bad with jokes,” Rick said. 

“Who said I was joking?” you said with a smile. Rick stopped in front of you, noting the lack of blood and gore this time. “How are your people doing?” you asked.

“They’re on alert,” Rick explained. 

“Makes sense,” you said. “I was the same way.” 

“What happened to you, (Y/N)?” 

“Well,” you said, taking a deep breath, “after the first few outbreaks happened, I tried to find my parents. Never did, but I managed to get out of the county and tried to get to Atlanta. If you didn’t know, Atlanta is not somewhere anyone wants to be right now.”

“I know, we saw it,” he said. 

“So, you know that I high tailed my ass out of there. I hooked up with a group shortly after and we traveled together for a while. Then, of course, as always, the world catches up with you. There were only about four fighters in the group, myself included. One night the building we were staying in collapsed. Its beams and walls were already weak so nobody was surprised when they started to crumble. The noise attracted the Dead and only two of us got out alive. I and a young woman named Natasha walked for days, but then she got sick and I had to…” you stopped, trying to shake the memory out of your mind. 

“Aaron found me a day or so later and took me here. That was about three months ago. I’m a bit of an outsider, but Aidan, Deanna’s son, he’s nice. He’s a bit of a moron when it comes to what happens outside of the walls, but nice nonetheless. I definitely prefer speaking to him than his asshole brother, Spencer. Alexandria is a good place with good people but they do not understand how to survive. Aaron is as close as it gets when it comes to a good survivor here.” 

“Then why stay?” Rick asked. “If you feel as if you are such an outsider?”

“Walls,” you said simply. “I was so tired of sleeping with one eye open. However, I’ve never forgotten what’s out there and neither should you.” 

“I don’t plan to,” Rick promised. You smiled at that, seeing the resolve he had built up over the years.

“So, that’s your boy? The one in the hat? Lori’s boy?” 

“Yeah,” Rick said, glancing back towards the house. “The little one is mine too, Lori’s as well.” 

“And Lori?” you asked, noticing she wasn’t with the group. You had known Lori in school and had gotten along with her well enough. It didn’t surprise you all that much when Rick ended up with her after your break up. She was the stereotypical good girl and you knew she had always liked Rick.

“She died giving birth to Judith,” Rick explained. “It’s just me and them now.” 

“I’m sorry, Rick,” you said and you meant it. “If you ever need me to tell Carl any embarrassing stories about his mom, I am volunteering right now.” Rick laughed at that. 

“I will keep that in mind. Thank you,” he said and you smiled back. “What about you? Did you ever marry?”

“I did,” you said. “He was a doctor, a damn good one too. He was attacked in his ER when this whole thing exploded. Damn thing tore his throat out.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rick swore, running a hand down his face. “I’m so sorry. Did you have kids or?”

“No, no, not yet,” you said. “We thought maybe one day, but Will and I decided to wait. I guess we both have shit to deal with, huh?”

“Seems that way,” Rick agreed. 

“I should let you get some sleep,” you said, pushing off the post. 

“Yeah, I should go check on Judith before Daryl puts her in a bubble wrap suit to keep her safe,” Rick joked. 

“Sounds to me like you got a damn good bunch, Grimes. I’m glad you found a family in this.” Rick looked at you with sad eyes and you waved him off. “Don’t do that cowboy, I am okay with bein’ alone. Always liked solitude.”

“I remember,” Rick whispered. You sent him a wink as you turned to go. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I ain’t going anywhere,” you called back over your shoulder as you skipped towards home. Rick watched you go and couldn’t help but think just how small the universe was getting after all.

-----

The next day, while the others went exploring, Rick was visited by his new neighbor. 

When the knock came at his door, he was hoping it would be you, but instead, there was a friendly blonde woman. Jessie introduced herself and offered to cut Rick’s hair in which he gratefully accepted. There was a small part of him that was hoping you would start to see him as someone you once loved, however, he also knew that you both were very different people now. 

Jessie spoke candidly as she trimmed and snipped hair in Rick’s kitchen. He learned a lot about the community and was surprised to hear that Deanna had built such a functioning society in the new world. 

Rick also wasn’t blind to how flirtatious the woman was. She was beautiful, he could see that much, but she was also married and she wasn’t you.

When Deanna invited everyone to her house for a party, Daryl and Sasha had walked from the room immediately. 

However, after the promise of food and actual alcohol, everyone agreed to try, even with their reservations. As soon as Rick and the others entered the house, it was as if they were stepping back in time. Glenn and Abraham immediately went for the beer while Deanna pulled Rick to the side to introduce him to Reg, her husband.

After exchanging a conversation about fourteen lives and walls, Rick excused himself. He walked through the room, Judith balanced on his hip as he made the rounds. Jessie was there with her husband who didn’t exactly look friendly. Rick made sure to make a note about him.

Just as Jessie was about to make her way over, a hand slid across Rick’s shoulder. “Figured you may want this,” you said, offering him a glass of scotch. 

“Are you having one?” he asked and with a snort, you picked up your own glass from the side table. 

“Already on it,” you said, raising your glass to clink against his. He took a small pull of it as you downed half in one go. 

“Still not a lightweight, I see,” Rick noted. 

“I feel like I’m immune to it these days,” you said with a sigh. “You okay?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Rick drawled. You narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Oh, don’t you pull that accent with me,” you warned as he thickened his Southern accent. 

“You always liked it,” Rick recalled. 

“I liked it too much,” you said, sitting into your hip. “Besides, I was hoping that cute, grungy one would be around. Where is Daryl this fine evening?” 

“Ha. Ha,” Rick said with a roll of his eyes. You beamed up at him and then Judith hiccupped in his arms, pulling all of your attention. “You like that?” Rick asked his daughter, shifting her so you could see her more clearly. “Judith, this is (Y/N). She is someone your momma knew and someone I care a lot about.” Your brows quirked at that last line, but you kept your eyes on the child. 

“You are just the sweetest thing,” you said capturing the hand she reached out with your index finger. “Lucky kid to have a daddy like this,” you whispered, but then she started to fuss and you backed away. 

“It’s not you, trust me,” Rick said. “I know what she wants,” he said with a sigh as he raised a finger, asking you to wait before walking over to Maggie. Hearing Judith, Maggie immediately smiled and eagerly reached for the baby. As soon as Judith was settled in her arms, she was still again, happily content to be with her aunt. 

When Rick rejoined you, he shrugged. “Maggie was the first one to hold Judith after she was born and she is usually the only one who can do that.”

“Next time I’m on a run, I’ll pick you up some parenting books. I bet I can find ‘How To Raise a Little Girl in the Apocalypse’.”

“I will happily accept that,” he said. Glancing around the room, you nodded your head towards the back porch. He gestured for you to go first, grabbing his scotch on the way.  The two of you stood out in the cool air. You were grateful for the silence that the yard provided rather than the crowded house. 

“Saw you with Jessie earlier,” you began. “You gotta be careful of Pete. That man is no good.”

“I had a feeling,” Rick sighed. 

“Man hits her and I pray he doesn’t hit the boys, but I can’t be sure.”

“How is he still living here?” 

“He’s the only doctor we got and as much as I would love to throw his ass to a herd or kill him myself, it’s not my call. It’s Deanna’s. Just keep your eye on him, yeah?”

“I will,” he promised. 

“I’m so glad you’re here, Rick,” you said. 

“I almost wasn’t,” he said and at your confusion, he told you the story of how he was shot and ended up in a coma before everything had gone downhill. 

“I can’t even imagine that,” you said. “Waking up in this world. You must have thought you were in a nightmare.”

“I didn’t know what to think. I just knew that I had to find Lori and Carl. We talked about how bad Atlanta was, but without me going into that city on that day, Glenn never would have found me. He brought me home to my family.” 

“Damn, that is incredibly lucky,” you said, leaning against the railing of the porch.

“Not so much luck followed,” he said. “We’ve been through a lot since then.”

“And yet, you still made it to the infamous safe zone,” you said brightly. 

“Yeah, I did. I made it to you,” Rick said plainly and you gasped slightly, not expecting those words at all. 

“Rick,” you began but he shook his head, taking your hands in his. 

“I’ve never believed in fate,” he said. 

“I remember,” you whispered. 

“I can’t ignore this sign. I won’t. Not after everything that we have both been through. I mean, they do say that first love dies last,” he said, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand. 

“They do say that, don’t they?” you responded. 

“You always did feel like comin’ home, (Y/N),” Rick admitted. 

“Does this mean you’re gonna stay?” you asked, eager for his answer. 

“Maybe, but with you, I have a lot of incentive now.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, pulling him closer to you. “Walls or not, I am not going to let you go after we just found each other again. Home is more than a place, you know?”

“Ain’t that the truth,” he drawled, causing you to blush. “Ah, just like old times.”

“Indeed, Cowboy, indeed,” you said as you pulled him in for a kiss. It was subtle and gentle, but you have never felt more alive. Rick kissed you back, his hand coming up to tighten on the back of your neck as he once did all those years ago. When he pulled back, he grinned at you. 

“Well, wasn’t that quite the welcome wagon,” he joked and with a roll of your eyes, you pulled him back in. Behind you, the party was completely forgotten.

TAGS: @thanossexual​ @yes-sir-hotchner​  @felicisimor

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(Clone Wars) ARC Trooper Echo x Reader: Sightseeing PART 2

(Requested by the amazing @nahoney22

I hope you likez!!!!

Warnings: some kissy kissy

Word Count: 2,146)

Link to Part 1

   You wrenched the final bolt in, teeth clenched with the effort.  Despite the quick thrum of your heart at the set of boots that were visible from beneath the ship, you kept your focus on the work in front of you.  Finally, the bolt would not screw in any father, and you set the wrench down with a loud clang.

   Swiping the back of your hand across your forehead, you sighed and began to climb out from under the vehicle.  The bright lights of the hangar made you squint, though a silhouette stepped into view.  Those boots you saw before were a few feet from your head.

   The man knelt down, extending his gloved hand in your direction.  You smiled as you took it, and he hauled you to your feet in an effortless motion.  Suddenly, you felt a little self-conscious in your dirtied jumpsuit with grease smeared on your skin.  You avoided his gaze as you brushed off what you could from your jumpsuit.

   “All done?” Echo finally spoke, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

   You finally met his eyes.  It was hard to feel self-conscious when he was looking at you with tender adoration.  One would think you were wearing the most elegant gown with the way his eyes glinted.

   “All done,” you said.  “Thank you for waiting.  You didn’t have to, you know.  You could’ve gone ahead to see the town.”

   Echo shrugged his armored shoulders.  It was so casual, like it was no big deal that he stood in the hangar for forty-five minutes waiting for your shift to end.  He didn’t have a whole lot of time off as an ARC trooper, and you didn’t want him to miss out because of you.  “It wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

   A smile crept onto your features.  There were times when he couldn’t formulate a sentence in front of you, and other times when he could be so smooth and so sweet.  You knew it came from a genuine place and not from someone looking to score a date.  Besides, it had been several months since your meeting, and he still hadn’t officially asked you out.  It became a tradition for the two of you to go sightseeing on the planets you came across, but nothing had been said about them being dates.

   Fives complained about it often enough.

   “I need about ten minutes to shower,” you said.

   Echo nodded.  “I’ll be waiting...if you still want to go with me.”

   “Of course I do.  I just feel bad you’ve been waiting so long.”

   “Like I said, it just wouldn’t be the same without you.”

   “Alright, well I’ll be back in a few.”

   Fifteen or so minutes later, you found Echo waiting patiently as ever near the exit.  You caught up with him, feeling much better about your appearance.  He simply smiled when he saw you.

   “Ready?”

   “As I’ll ever be,” you said.  The two of you were able to take a military transport into town.  It was a short ride, and the transport was filled with your chatter as you shared information about the planet.  Echo had used his waiting time wisely to read up on some of the cuisine.  He listed off some interesting restaurant ideas, making both of your mouths water. Apparently a festival was going on, so there would be lots of things to see,

   When you stepped off the transport, Echo extended his arm slightly towards you so that you could loop your arm through it.  No doubt the two of you looked like a couple, which was why you waited until getting into town to make such contact.

   Your faced warmed as you observed his profile for a moment.  His eyes were wide and fascinated as he glanced around the ongoing festival.  Citizens wore colorful outfits and masks, bustling here and there.  Cheerful music played by musicians with stringed instruments filled the air.  Many delicious smells teased your senses.  A loud growl from your stomach made Echo’s gaze snap back to you.

   “Hungry?” he asked, amused.

   “I haven’t eaten since before my shift,” you admitted with a bashful smile.

   “Well, we’ll be sure to get something right away then.”  He nodded in the direction of the nearest stand.  “Let’s go.”

   Several happy citizens were leaving the stand with food in hand, smiling and talking amongst themselves.  You caught a whiff of one of the dishes.  “Ooh, we should get that,” you told Echo.  He followed your gaze and nodded.

   “Mm, that does look good.”

   Suddenly, you felt a rough hand grab your shoulder and give you a little shake.  Your heart quickened at the potential danger, but as you turned your head, you saw a gloved hand on Echo’s shoulder too.

   “There you are!” Fives exclaimed, giving you and Echo another affectionate shake.   You exhaled at the realization it was just your friend.  “I was wondering when you two lovebirds would venture out!”

   Your poor companion’s words caught in his throat.  “We’re not-  I mean…”  Echo stole a glance at you, flustered.  Finally, he seemed to gather some resolve as he raised a brow.  “No offense, but it’s none of your business.”

   “Oh-ho-ho.”  Fives chuckled, giving his brother a playful nudge.  “I’m just teasing.  No harm done.”

   Echo rolled his eyes, nudging him back.  “I’m sure.”

   You smiled at the brothers’ banter.  It was almost always like that when they hung out, which was all the time.  Fives had also become a good friend of yours as you got to know Echo better.  The three of you would often eat together at the mess hall or cause trouble at whatever places you found yourselves at on these new planets.  

   “Next!”  the lady at the stand called.  She wore a bright red costume with the sleeves rolled up as she put away the money from previous customers and closed the box.  Only her smiling eyes could be seen behind the matching mask.  “Troops!  We appreciate the protection the Republic has provided our planet.  What can I get you?”

   “We’d like two of those,” Echo ordered, pointing at the menu item that you had mentioned earlier.

   “Make that three,” Fives interjected.

   “Okay, three of those.  And could we also get two cups of tea.  Fives, you want one too?”

   “Count me in.”

   Echo nodded and turned back to the lady.  “Sorry, three cups of tea.  And that’ll do it.”

   She nodded and began adding up the cost.  Echo handed over the credits, and you pitched in to tip the woman.  She uttered her thanks, and the cook behind her started serving up the order.

   “These are our special desserts that are only made during this festival,” she said, packaging up three little cakes.  “You must try some!”

   Echo reached back into his pouch for more credits.  “How much?” 

   “On the house!” she said.  “I insist!  Enjoy the festival!”

   “Oh, thank you!” you accepted the packages, and Fives and Echo grabbed the food and teas.  The three of you headed over to one of the empty picnic tables and claimed your meals.  You sipped the cold cup of tea, smiling at the mildly sweet flavor and how refreshing it was.

   Fives had already dug into his food.  “This is great!” he mumbled through a mouthful.

   “Yeah?”  Echo took a bite of his own.  “Wow, you’re right.”

   Another loud growl sounded in your stomach, making Fives laugh and earning him an elbow in the side from Echo, as you finally tried your portion of the meal.  It did taste good, and it was very filling, though you had just enough room to have the dessert after.

   When you were done, you started cleaning up the picnic table and dropped the garbage into a nearby trash can.  On your way over, you overheard a conversation between the two ARC troopers.  They were trying to speak over the volume of the festival and remain out of earshot of you- to no avail.

   “So, Echo,” Fives said.  “You know you don’t have to do the whole ‘secret relationship’ thing in front of me, right?  Of all people, I’m not gonna’ say anything.”

   “There is no secret relationship,” Echo muttered.  “I was serious before.  We’re not together.”

   “Oh my gosh.”  Fives shook his head.  “Well, you’d better hurry up and claim her.  Or someone else will.  I’m telling you, she likes you.”

   “Shh, she’s coming back.

   You smiled, pretending you didn’t hear a word over your shoulder.  “What is next on the agenda?”

   “I’m actually going to go off on my own again,” Fives answered.  “You two have fun.”  Before either of you could even say “goodbye” for now, he left.  You looked to Echo, shrugging, and looped your arm with his again.

   The two of you did an initial sweep of the festival, checking out the games and activities as well as taking notes on any that you’d like to try as the evening went on.  There was something different about this outing.  You’d been to many places with Echo before, but this time, it seemed he was being a little more forward.  In a good way, of course.  You figured it was because of his conversation with Fives, but even so, you had not expected him to be as confident as he was.  At one point, he removed his arm from yours and took your hand instead, shooting you an inquisitive look.

   You nodded in silent approval of the gesture, giving his gloved hand a squeeze.  The smile on his face was so handsome.  It was nearly impossible to look away.  Pretty soon, the two of you were stopped in the middle of the festival with folks going around you.  He gazed back into your eyes, the smile slowly fading into an expression you’d never seen on him before.  Excitement coursed through your veins as he suddenly gave your hand a tug, leading you through the swarm of people until the two of you were in a small alley between two of the town’s shops.  It gave you a nice view of the festival from where you stood without being crowded out by other people.

   “What’s this about?” you asked, though you had a feeling you already knew.  Echo leaned his shoulder against the wall, glancing down at your intertwined fingers.

   “I wanted to play it cool,” he said.  “But I’m afraid I’ve been playing it too cool.”  His eyes met yours again, and you didn’t miss the way his chest rose and fell with a deep breath, as if he was preparing himself for something daring.  “The truth is... I really like you.  I have since the moment I first saw you.”

   “Nothing wrong with taking your time,” you replied.  “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you.”

   “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you too,” he agreed, your response visibly putting him at ease.  The smile returned to his face.  “I don’t consider any of the time we’ve spent wasted.  And if you’d rather we stay friends, I can do that.  I just...wanted you to know.  I care about you.”

   Your insides were practically melting at his words, though your heart was thudding fast and strong.  From the start, it was like gravity had been bringing you closer together.  You revolved around each other; not quite touching, but never too far.

   Suddenly, gravity brought you even closer.  You took a step forward.  He pushed off the wall slightly to meet you halfway, releasing your hand only to wrap his arms around you in a firm embrace.

   “I care about you too,” you told him softly.  He regarded your misty gaze with another one of his smiles before his eyes fell on your lips with intent.  Echo, ever the chivalrous, shifted so that his back was to the crowd.  Once you were concealed from any curious stares of those passing the alley, his lips caught yours. 

   The kiss was planet-shattering.  It held all the tenderness you would’ve expected at first, and then slowly built up with tension the two of you had been keeping tucked away for some time.  Something snapped, then.  Your lips were meeting his faster, needier; and he was happy to oblige.  

   Both of you were unwilling to part, but the sounds of the festival brought you back.  Echo was still tilting your chin as he pulled away to see your loving gaze.

   “Beautiful,” he murmured.

   “You sure are,” you said with a chuckle.

   He chuckled too with the slightest shake of his head in amusement.  “And she has a sense of humor.  How’d I get so lucky?”

   You pretended to consider his question for a moment, your face scrunching up in thought.  “It sure is a mystery,” you joked lightly, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.  He caught your lips one more time before you pulled away completely, and you nearly swooned.

[p4nkow]

White Lie

Hello hello! As usual, I have no idea of what this is about 💀 I saw a post it said that they were currently filming in a school and my dumb ass was like Oh right, they’re in high school

Part two

I loved writing for Rafe, pretending that he isn’t a lil piece of shit, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did while writing it!

Summary: Being a secret girlfriend wasn’t exactly how you’d planned to spend your high school years. As a question keeps haunting you, you face Rafe about the nature of your relationship

Warnings: swearing?? A making out session? Oh and also some angst

gif not mine so credit to the owner! and don’t mind what’s written in it 💀

Being a secret girlfriend wasn’t exactly how you’d planned to spend your high school years. Everyone kept saying that those were supposed to be the best years of your life — the years during which you make memories you’ll cherish forever, the ones you’ll tell you grandchildren someday.

A lot of good things had happened to you so far — you’d made some good friends, the kind of friendships that last a lifetime. You’d been accepted as a cheerleader, which wasn’t as exciting as you thought it would be. However, it was a good distraction from your shitty Pogue life back in the island. You even got a job — Kie had asked you to work as a waitress at her family’s restaurant, The Wreck. When she said ‘Just think about it’, you said Yes in a heartbeat. No need to think about it. That job would help you provide for yourself and pay your food, after all.

Oh, and yeah. You also got a boyfriend.

A guy who you came so abruptly and suddenly in your life that he turned it upside down without you even noticing. Because never, not even in a million years, you would have imagined that you’d be dating Rafe Cameron. The Rafe Cameron. The Kook king.

It wasn’t planned — like at all — for you to fall for him.

Everything started out as a flirt — some staring at the keggers down at the Boneyard, some casual touches in the hallways, and then you ended up making out in The Wreck’s men’s room. Neither of you had planned it, and you didn’t even dare to imagine what your friends — or even his — would say about it. Everyone in the Outer Banks knew that between the two groups there was some bad blood.

But thankfully they didn’t know anything. They didn’t because you were with a guy who wouldn’t openly say that was dating you. The thought hurt you every time — was it your fault? Was he ashamed of you?

The only time you’d brought it up, hiding how it truly hurt you, he gave you a frown and simply said “You know — it’s... it’s because of my father.”

Of course you knew that his relationship with his father was at loggerheads. Hell, it was so bad that you weren’t even sure that there was a relationship between them. Still, Rafe wanted to please him so badly that he wouldn’t even tell him that he was dating a Pogue.

But you’d be lying if you didn’t say that it had been fine by you too, at first.

After all, what the two of you shared was something special and as such, you didn’t want to yell it through the halls. And, to be quite honest, you feared your friends’ reactions. You didn’t even dare imagine what JJ would say if he knew you were sneaking around with Rafe Cameron.

But you had to admit that playing secret boyfriends with him was fun. The risk of getting caught made everything even more exciting. It made every look, every touch even more significant.

Two months ago, if someone told you that Rafe Cameron loved to cuddle at night, you would’ve laughed right in his face. And now you were the one he held close to his body every night as he slept peacefully. Funny how fast the night changes, huh?

There were times when you thought that you were going to get caught with your hands in the cookie jar — Sarah once walked in on you as you were making out on his desk, but you quickly hid your face in his chest as he surrounded you with his arms. She didn’t even have the chance to give a proper look at you, considering that she flew off the room. Now she made sure to knock every time she had to speak to him.

But now that the summer had ended, you were worried about how your relationship with Rafe would develop. Would you still have the chance to sneak around, trying to avoid the prying eyes of the islanders?

But since the moment you set foot at the Kildare County High School, things went down quicker than you could ever imagine.

Rafe was a class ahead of you, considering that he was a year older, so you didn’t really have many chances to see him in the morning. And when you crossed him in the hallways, he would look at you but openly ignore your presence.

And every single time he walked past you without saying a word, you felt your heart break a little.

The few moments you were given with Rafe during the day, the way he made you feel, the way your skin burned whenever he touched you or how he’d always play with your hair — was all of it worth the way you felt everyday because of his behavior?

And that question kept haunting you, remaining unanswered.

It was a Thursday morning and it wasn’t a particularly exciting day at the Kildare County High School. Well, actually, days seemed all the same there.

Between third and fourth period, you had to stop by your locker to grab your history book, and John B offered to walk you.

“Can’t believe I’m already failing history”, he groaned, a frown forming in his face. History book in one hand and the other hand hidden in his jeans pocket, John B got a lot of stares from the girls chatting in the hallway. Could you blame them?

As you swung open the door of your locker, you gave him a quick look. “C’mon, you’re not gonna fail it. We’ve just started.”

The hallways ware starting to get crowded as everyone hurried to move to their next class, chitchats filling the orange walls of the building.

“Yeah, and the guy already hates me”, he quickly added as he leaned towards the lockers next to yours.

When he groaned, you couldn’t help but shoot him another look. “What?”

“Why is he everywhere I go?”, he murmured between his teeth, leaning his face close to yours to make sure not to be heard by anyone else.

Brows narrowed, confused expression and hand still in the air while holding your history book, you moved your gaze to the point he was nodding at.

And there, standing near the cafeteria’s open door with some of his classmates, there was Rafe. Topper was there, as well as Kelce and two girls you didn’t know.

His features were relaxed as he laughed with them, the fluorescents reflecting an unnatural light on his light brown hair, neatly pulled back by some gel. He was wearing his football team’s jersey, which fit him so well that you couldn’t move your gaze away from him.

You didn’t like the way your stomach twisted at the sight of him in the company of those girls and you sure as hell didn’t like the way he was openly ignoring your presence.

Lost in your thoughts, you’d probably been staring at him for way too long when John B frowned again and, waving a hand in front of your face, said “Y/N?”

“What?” You blinked a few times, looking back at him. “Yeah, sorry. You were saying?”

John B gave a quick look at the group you were staring at with a weird look on his face before turning back to you. “Uh, nothing. We’re late for class, c’mon.”

When you closed your locker with a loud thud, probably using more strength than needed, Rafe finally noticed you. And his fists immediately clenched at the sight of John B standing right next to you.

He’d done everything in his power to bite the bullet and get over the fact that you were friends with him and his group. But he couldn’t stand the sight of that Routledge standing so close to you. Or the way the two of you moved almost in unison, as if it was natural for him to second your movements.

You were in the middle of your history class when your phone vibrated when you received a message.

Rafe: Meet me outside.

Giving a quick look at the teacher, whose back was turned to you as he wrote on the board, you re-read the text to make sure that you weren’t dreaming.

As much as you wanted to give in at his request, you quickly typed I’m the middle of my class.

You didn’t put the phone away, hoping that Rafe would reply. It was the only way you could contact him and you were more than happy to hear from him after the coldness he showed in the hallway.

Rafe: Say you have to go to the bath or smth. C’mon, baby.

Biting your bottom lip at his words was an automatic reaction, and you gave a quick look at your classmates to make sure that no one had noticed you blushed.

When you met John B’s eyes, he raised a brow in a silent questioning look. To dismiss your weird behavior, you just shook your head and looked away.

It took you a few moments to summon the courage to speak up, waiting for the teacher to turn towards you before raising your hand, catching his attention. “Uhm... Mister Suarez? May I go to the bathroom?”

He dismissed you with a hand gesture, which you took as a Yes, so you hurried to gather your things up and leave the class.

You weren’t exactly sure of what he meant by ‘outside’, so you looked both ways in the hallway, trying to spot him. Everything was quiet, the quiet buzzing of the fluorescents was the only sound in the background. So, when you started to walk towards your left, heading to the back exit, your footsteps echoed all around you.

Each step you took, the more excited you were. It was unusual for Rafe to ask you to do something like that, especially at school, and that’s probably the reason why you were so tense. All the hurt from before seemed vanished as you walked, being replaced by nothing but excitement.

But you knew it was only a temporary change.

A hand surrounded your bicep as you were about to walk past the chemistry lab, dragging you in as you let out a surprised squeak. There was no need for you to look up to know that it was Rafe.

The lab door closed behind you with a loud thud, isolating you from the rest of the school. The room was in semi-darkness, and that’s all you could notice before Rafe made your bag slide off your shoulder and land on the floor, being immediately forgotten there.

His blue eyes immediately found yours as he made you move backwards towards the nearest table. “Rafe”, you whispered, unable to form a meaningful thought.

“Shh”, he whispered back, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb.

And then his lips crashed on yours, not leaving you the time to process what was going on. Your instinct was to place both hands in the back of his neck, holding some strands of his perfectly styled locks between your fingers.

When your back hit the side of the table, both his hands slid down to your ass, further to your thighs. He lifted you by them, making you sit on the board without even thinking of pulling away from your lips.

Placing a hand on your lower back, he made you slide towards him, in such a way as to press your bodies together. When he pulled away from your lips to take a deep breath, he shifted his attention to your neck. Understanding his intentions, you leaned your head to second his movements, biting your bottom lip as he started to leave wet, hot kissed down to your neck.

“Rafe”, you murmured again, completely lost in those sensations. Your hands were now cupping his face, trying to pull him as close as possible to you.

But then, as your heard loud footsteps right out of the door, you repeated in a warning tone “Rafe, wait.”

The way his head quickly snapped towards the hallway told you that he’d heard them, too.

When he turned again towards you, you realized that he’d taken a few steps back from you were sitting, moving away as if he was being charged with electricity.

His reaction hurt you, again. All the excitement of the moment had quickly vanished and now you felt even more hurt than before. Hurt, used and humiliated.

When you tried to swallow to get rid of the knot that had formed in your throat, you felt tears watering your eyes, forcing you to look away from him.

With a little jump, you got off the table and hurried to get your bag from the floor. Rafe was still standing there, and he started to react only when you swung the door open and walked out of the lab.

“Y/N”, you heard him saying from behind you, but you didn’t stop.

As you stormed out of the building, quickly getting rid of the tears that had watered your cheeks, you heard his firm steps following you. “Fuck, Y/N. Wait!”

He only managed to reach you when you finally got to your car, stopping right behind you. He placed a hand on the door of the vehicle to stop you from opening it. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

When you turned towards him, his face was just a few inches away from yours. And his heart ached a bit when he saw your eyes filled with tears. He tried to cup your cheek, but you looked away and avoided his touch. “Y/N?”, he repeated. “Talk to me, baby.”

“Are you embarrassed of me?”, you suddenly asked.

His brows frowned in confusion at your question, as he slightly shook his head in denial. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Answer me”, you demanded. “Are you embarrassed of being seen with me, Rafe?”

“No!”, he abruptly answered. “Of course not! Fuck”, he muttered under his breath, narrowing his eyes as if he couldn’t believe what you were asking him.

“Then why are we still keeping it a secret?” Your voice was now way lower than before. Resigned, even.

Rafe’s lips parted and you could see the indecision growing in his eyes. His beautiful, troubled eyes. “You know why”, he whispered.

Even though you tried to hide it, the irony in your voice was evident when you asked “Your father, right?”

And he fiercely nodded. “Yes! Yes, of course.”

Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you swallowed hard. With a burden on your heart, you murmured in a low voice “Because I’m a Pogue.”

Rafe didn’t reply. He wanted to — all he wanted to do was comfort you and fix whatever was going on between the two of you at the moment, but there was nothing he could say.

“You can’t tell him about us — you don’t want him to find out about us, because you’re embarrassed of the fact that I’m a Pogue”, you concluded. And that was the unvarnished truth.

Rafe’s shoulders dropped at your words and he pulled away his hand from the car door. His eyes were glossy as you gave him a last look, before turning your back to him and getting in your car.

“Y/N”, you heard him murmur as you threw your bag on the passenger seat and turned on the engine. “Don’t go. Please.”

The vulnerability in his voice almost made you give in, but there was no turning back. So you drove away from the parking lot, leaving a hurt Rafe watching you slide away from his fingers.

[solari-writes-things]

Boxing Day

requested by: @kind-wolf​

Solari says: I feel like this is a little more brief than some of the things I write, so I hope that it provides a little more of the comical vibe to make up for it.

Prompts -

#11: “You didn’t tell me your friend was cute! Now what am I going to do?”

Happy Lowman x Reader

WARNINGS: Language

gif credit: to the OP (pulled from Google).

SoA tag list: @thebookishfeminist​ :|: @sazafraz​​​ :|: @crimsonheart01​​​ :|: @kind-wolf​ :|: @tsumethedrifter​ :|:​ @chibsytelford​​ :|: @supervalcsi​​ (To be added to the tag list, please message me, or comment below!)

MORE HAPPY | MORE SOA | > MASTERLIST < | REQUESTS OPEN

It took you awhile to convince yourself to finally visit the SAMCRO clubhouse. Not for any particular reason, it’s just that the party scene just wasn’t your preference.

However, you had known Harry Winston for years. You once lived in Charming, when you were a teenager, before moving a little further South of the small town. Finally deciding to move back, you rekindled your friendships with him and Jackson Teller, which prompted an invitation for a clubhouse party. 

You almost didn’t want to accept just on the idea of a party. You weren’t too much of an extrovert, preferring to meet everyone on your own accord; however, you didn’t plan on making any trips out of your own time. This was the chance that you had to meet the other people your two friends mentioned prior, their loyal brothers in arms.

They always spoke highly of them, confident that you would get along swimmingly. You had the talent of getting along with almost anyone, though, within reason.

So here you were, sitting in a crowd that surrounded a rinky-dink boxing ring outside of the bar itself. Harry, or Opie, had been sitting to your right to watch the men brawl. There was two in the center, dancing around one another and swinging harshly. One was Tig, whom you had met on arrival to the party, and the other you hadn’t quite met yet.

Opie had been calling him Happy, which you weren’t sure was his real name. The man was anything but that, tall and tattooed all over the parts of his body that you could see. His hands were wrapped tightly in tape, stained just a slight shade of red from the beating that he had been giving Tig these last five minutes. His eyes were serious, feral even, as he shuffled around the ring.

You tapped your fingers against your beer bottle calmly, watching the two of them circle. The jerking of their arms, followed by the sounds of their skin being beat made you cringe where you sat. Something about the two of them in the ring together almost made you a little fearful.

Two opposing, wild forces clashing against each other.

Tig managed to land a couple of back-to-back punches, which seemed to have Happy in a bit of a daze in the corner of the ring. He would try to follow up with another barrage of hits, but the President of the Sons of Anarchy stood up from his ringside seat and called the match to an end.

Both men were almost coated in a matching shade of red, and you almost didn’t notice until they had been called to a stop.

Instead of them sauntering out, their expressions went from wild to smiling; the quickness of it all was enough to give you whiplash. They bring each other in for a hard hug, before both of them duck through the ropes on opposing sides.

Happy dropped down calmly in front of you and Opie, giving a nod of greeting to Opie before approaching. The longer you paid attention to him, the longer you seemed to realize that he wasn’t a bad looking man--blood and all. Your eyes scanned the different types of ink that he had strewn all over his body, intrigued in the different art styles that he had decorated himself in. God, you had hoped he didn’t notice you staring just a bit too much.

“Fuckin’ badass match, Hap,” Opie commented, taking a drink of his own beer bottle. “You look like shit.”

Happy had an almost wicked grin on his face, amused at the fact that he was in such a shape. “I’ve had worse, man. Shit will get cleaned up quick.”

You were almost startled by the sound of his voice. You didn’t know what to expect, really, but the tones that left his mouth definitely weren’t it. Honestly, it kind of added to the face-level fascination.

Opie nodded his head to you, directing Hap’s attention to you. Your eyes dart up from his tattoos, and you offer a smile that feigned your innocence. “Happy, this is [Y/N]. She just moved back to Charming, I’ve known her for years.”

“Hey,” you said simply, trying to keep your responses as brief as possible to hide the fact that your eyes were wandering just a bit before.

“Hey,” he greeted. “I’d shake your hand, but mine are kinda covered in blood.”

“Noted,” you replied quickly. “Great match, had me worried you were gonna kill each other.”

“If Clay didn’t call it, someone probably woulda gotten close,” he casually admitted. If speaking to anyone else, they’d probably take that as their first warning.

But here you were, completely ignoring that notion. “Can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

“Situational,” he retorted, before looking down at himself. There was a bit of blood clinging to the skin of his chest and his face, which prompts him to speak again. “I gotta fuckin’ wash this off. I’ll be back in a minute.”

He trudges off, pushing through the crowd of patched members trying to pat him on the back in praise.

You look back to Opie, almost in disbelief, not even paying attention to the fact that he was drinking out of his beer bottle again when you opened your mouth. “What the fuck, man? You didn’t tell me your friend was cute! Now what am I gonna do?”

It was almost comical, the reaction that Opie immediately gave to you. With your mild infatuation with Happy out in the open, he had almost choked on the beer that he was in the process of swallowing. He lurched forward, coughing into the shirt that he wore underneath the kutte. You grimaced at the coughing fit, reaching over and patting his back as if to encourage him to let it all out.

Once he was finished, he sat back up again and wiped his mouth of any remnants of his fit. He began to grin, laughing just a bit once the spasms in his chest has settled down.

“Don’t fucking laugh at me, man, I hate you,” you said jokingly, giving him a gentle shove; inevitably causing him to laugh even more.

“To answer your question, you can come with me to get a beer,” you heard an answer, causing your head to whip around once more in a start.

Your heart picked up it’s pace. Happy had come back, slightly leaned over to pick up something that was laying on one of the wooden tables you were sitting near. He had forgotten to pick up his rings, placing them on the palm of his hand calmly as he waited for you to respond.

“Oh... Shit, Happy, you sure about that?” you ask, nerves settling on your shoulders once it really sank in that he had heard your comment.

“Yeah. Why the fuck not?” he asked, standing straight once he had all of his rings in his hands. “Come on. Just gotta wait for me to finish up.”

So you stand, slowly, just in case Happy decided this was no longer a good idea. You wouldn’t be angry if he did, you kind of embarrassed yourself in front of him and Opie. However, when nothing of that notion left his mouth, you relaxed your shoulders. 

He turns, connecting eyes with you once again. With a serious expression, one that he wore since coming back, he nods towards the door that led back into the bar and begins to walk towards it.

And you follow, with an approving nod from Opie, towards the black painted door frame that contained the comradery inside.