#thank you to all of you who have cheered me on

[cinnamanz]

✦ ─── 𝓣rouble , 𝓓aniela 𝓐vanzini i know you felt something too.

─── 𝓣he annual sunnyvale vs. shadyside football game is always a disaster—violence, chaos, and spilled blood. but this year, when you laid eyes on daniela avanzini across the field, you don’t expect to fall for the woman—sunnyvale’s golden girl and the new cheer captain. she’s taken, off-limits, and from the wrong side of town. luckily, you’ve never been one to follow the rules. and hey, who were you to deny a challenge?

❝𝓯orbidden from the beginnin', i saw her there, up there. 𝓫een like that since i met her, they said i couldn't have her.❞

౨ৎ 𝓹airing. cheerleader!daniela avanzini x bandkid!f!reader ౨ৎ 𝓰enre. fluff wc. 5738 (IM SORRY I YAPPED AND ACCIDENTALLY DRAGGED IT😭😭😭) a/n. this was lowk all over the place and yes ik this isnt what frank's trouble means but lets pretend for one minute okay cause this song fits the plot sb🙏 based this off the little rivalry from fear street cs it made it easier for me to actually have sumn to base it on. ALSO MY BAD FOR YAPPING IN THIS FIC. layout inspired asf by @ninguitar bro ur layouts r bomb asf never die blud💯 WE MISS YOU FRANK COME BACK HOME PLEASE😭😭😭 also i mightve kinda lowk gotten sidetracked from the og plot like i usually do so js ignore that pls THANK YOU🙏🙏 NOT PROOFREAD BTW😿

❝𝔀ay out of my league, i never believed it. 𝓰otta get her heart, i gotta make her mine.❞

"UGH, I’M GONNA SHOOT THOSE SUNNYVALE IDIOTS." chaewon grumbled beside you, voice thick with frustration. she adjusted her cheerleader uniform, fingers tugging at the pom-pom attached to her hand with a huff, her face twisted in an annoyed frown as she glared toward the sunnyvale side.

she shifted quickly, bumping into yunjin who mirrored her expression with a roll of her eyes and a sigh. both of them, in perfect sync, looked ready to explode.

"seriously," chaewon muttered, "i can’t believe they pulled that stunt again. they don’t get it—we’re here to win." she tugged the clasp tighter, her anger palpable.

yunjin crossed her arms, jaw tight. "they think they can always get away with this. not this time." she shot a glare at the sunnyvale fans, still jeering.

you scoffed, shaking your head. their optimism stung, but it didn’t change anything. you glanced at kazuha, absently fiddling with her hat. she sighed, furrowed brow, already worn out before the game even began.

"let’s be serious," you muttered, voice sharp. "we’ll lose, like always. they cheat, we lose, and no one bats an eye." the words felt bitter, but true. it was the same story every year.

the air thickened with frustration. no matter how hard the team fought, sunnyvale would pull some underhanded move, and the town would be left with nothing but the sting of defeat. 

kazuha’s gaze flickered to the field briefly, fingers tightening on her hat. you weren’t the only one who knew how this would end. it wasn’t about whether you’d lose—it was how much damage they’d do before the game even began.

“hey, am i tripping or is that asshole alison gone?” chaewon asked, her voice laced with confusion as she scanned the crowd, squinting to spot the familiar face that usually irked her.

yunjin side-eyed chaewon, eyes narrowing as she took in the empty space where alison would usually be. “holy shit, i think you might be right,” she said, her voice almost disbelieving. “did she finally quit? or is she hiding somewhere?”

before chaewon could respond, sakura appeared beside yunjin, walking up with eunchae. she gave them both a knowing nod, her tone casual but with an edge of satisfaction. “i heard she quit a week before the game and got replaced. no one even bothered to tell us until today.”

yunjin and chaewon exchanged a relieved look, the tension in their shoulders easing. “good riddance,” yunjin mumbled under her breath, her lips curling into a small, victorious smile. chaewon chuckled, shaking her head.

"who’s her replacement though?" you asked, furrowing your brows as your eyes scanned the field, searching for any signs of the new addition. 

“oh, y’know daniela avanzini? the mayor’s daughter?” sakura replied casually, her gaze drifting across the field. “she’s replaced alison, from what i gathered from yena.”

“i still can’t believe she left us,” chaewon grumbled, her voice thick with irritation. you could tell she hadn’t quite let go of the betrayal. your eyes continued to flick across the other side of the field, trying to pick out any unfamiliar faces among the crowd.

“wait, what does she look like?” you asked, still scanning for someone who might match sakura’s description.

“the latina one with her hair dyed blonde,” sakura said, pausing as if she were searching the field herself. “you’ll spot her standing with her asshole of a boyfriend.” she added with a knowing look. “they’re the ones practically glued to each other.”

you shifted your focus, eyes narrowing as you spotted the girl standing in the middle of the group, her hair almost glowing under the stadium lights. it didn’t take long to identify her—daniela, the mayor’s daughter, standing right next to a tall guy with a smug look on his face.

from across the field, she stands there like a dream—daniela. her blonde-dyed hair shimmers in the light, catching every flicker of the lights and casting a halo around her. it’s like she doesn’t even realize how effortlessly she pulls everyone’s attention, how her presence shifts the energy of the entire place.

you can hear her laugh, light and musical, cutting through the noise of sunnyvale’s own marching band. it’s soft, almost like a secret, yet somehow it fills the space around her. she stands so casually beside him, yet there’s something so magnetic about her, like the world just seems to bend around her, to gravitate toward her without effort.

and then, your eyes meet. just for a second, but it feels like an eternity. time slows, the stadium noise fades, and all you can see is her—those eyes, full of curiosity and something else, something playful, pulling you in.

yunjin glanced at you, noticing the sudden silence that blanketed the six of you, eyes roving all over your face before her face fell, and her palm met her face. “y/n, you can’t be serious.” she knew you too well.

gaze still trained on the latina who looked away from the other side of the field, you’d only snapped back to earth when yunjin shoved you hard enough to bump into the person in front of you, a hurried, hushed apology slipping past your lips. “fuck you, she’s pretty.”

chaewon eyed the interaction before a dramatic gasp fell from her lips, clutching her pom-poms to her chest. “no, absolutely not. she’s a sunnyvale brat!”

“please,” an exasperated sigh left your lips, a smirk already curling at the corners. “it’s not her fault she was born in sunnyvale. besides, i’m pretty sure she’d swing my way if she saw how hot i am.”

an amused laugh left sakura’s lips while the other three’s expressions were the complete opposite, eunchae nodding at the back in agreement with your words. “why the dude in the sky ever gave you this much confidence, i’ll never know.” 

you gave yunjin’s shoulder a nudge, winking at her playfully. “watch carefully, jennifer. i’m gonna steal her from her boyfriend. give me a few weeks.”

and as your eyes darted back out into the field to zone in on your town’s football players trickling into the grass, you could’ve sworn the latina shot you one last look before pulling away from her boyfriend.

“camp nightwing, my fucking ass. camp nightmare, more like.”

“give it a chance, chae.” you’d mumbled, hauling your bags into your cabin, the girls following suit with their own bags in hand, dropping them on the floor promptly as chaewon practically collapsed onto the lower bunk, sprawled out on the sheets like a starfish.

"you only say that because yena told you daniela’d be here too. otherwise, you'd be just as miserable as i am.” she retorted with a huff, cheeks puffing up while yunjin nodded in agreement, walking past you to claim the top bunk and chucking her duffel bag onto the mattress.

“oh, give it a break. i need somethin’ to distract me while i’m in this dump-”

chaewon shrieks, the sound piercing and high-pitched as she sat up on the bed and ran towards the door, jumping towards yena who poked her head in through the doorway, stumbling back as she struggled to support chaewon’s weight. “dude, what the fuck.”

you groaned at the sight of the two already giggling like children, shaking your head as you started to unpack, drowning out the chatter until yunjin perked up beside you, her eyes widening. just as you were about to ask what happened, a sweet, unfamiliar voice travelled through the cabin.

“yena? sophia’s looking for you. she’s calling a meeting for all camp counselors and—oh, you must be chaewon? yena’s talked a lot about you.” you whipped your neck around. it was a surprise you didn’t get whiplash, eyes zeroing in on the latina that stood awkwardly outside the doorway, catching a small glimpse of chaewon tensing up and unwrapping herself from yena, taking a step back.

yena nodded in response, glancing at the two before gesturing. “chaewon, meet daniela. daniela, meet chaewon.”

daniela stuck a hand out, a rather awkward, crooked smile curling on her lips. “hi, nice to finally meet you.”

surprisingly, chaewon took the handshake, nodding with her lips pressed into a thin line. “nice to meet you too.” she’d mumbled, before quickly letting go after a few moments, acting like daniela’s touch had burnt her.

yena exchanged glances with you, shaking your head as she nodded in understanding, choosing to stop the interaction before a whole war breaks out in your cabin. “well, i’ll see you guys later. we can catch up then.”

chaewon had shut the door after the two had left, turning around with a gobsmacked expression. “out of all the people yena had daniela shake hands with, she chose chaewon.” sakura’s comment earned a laugh.

it was the fifth day of camp when your mere stares and glances at daniela from the sidelines suddenly turned into her standing in front of you with a pleading expression, though playful— something you’d never have expected from a sunnyvale resident to give to a shadysider. her eyes, usually sharp and calculating bore into yours wide-eyed and glossy, and fuck, why does she remind you of a puppy now?

she blinks up at you expectantly, and wait a second, what did she want again?

to say you were sidetracked by this absolute beauty asking you to do god-knows-what would be an understatement, with the way your grip loosened around the plates you were cleaning after dinner, slipping from your hands if it weren’t for her voice pulling you back down to earth. “y/n?”

she knew your name? you cleared your throat, forcing yourself to tear your gaze away from her and back to the dishes you were tasked to clean, two more plates till you were finished. “uh, sorry. what were you asking again?”

daniela doesn’t pay much attention to your demeanour, beaming beside you. “i was asking you if you could possibly light up the campfire?”

your brows furrowed. the campfire? wouldn’t there be another camp counselor in charge of that? you glanced back at her as you finished the last plate, and with the way that she’d practically shapeshifted her eyes into that of a begging puppy’s, you were more than a hundred percent sure that she could ask you to do anything and you’d oblige more than happily.

“uh, sure. got a match?” she grimaces at the words that slipped from your lips, shaking her head.

“yeah, that’s the thing. you gotta light it from scratch. that’s why i asked you, actually. yena told me you were a girl scout and that you knew how to make fire.” her words pulled out a dreaded groan from your throat, leaning your hip onto the end of the counter as your eyes shut briefly at the mention.

“ugh, please don’t remind me of that.” your pained expression had her smile growing, amused.

“i think it’s cute—”

“let’s start that campfire.” you’d cut her off before she could say anything else, the tips of your ears already bright red as you walked past her, the latina trailing behind you. seriously, this is the first interaction that you’re having, and she already pulls that shit on you? you were not god’s strongest soldier. at all.

you grabbed a twig next to the campfire as you kneeled beside it and placed the twig on top of the dry leaves, rubbing the pointed end of the stick onto the leaves until black smoke started to erupt, giving it a little oxygen and watching it spread quickly around the campfire, wood crackling and spitting out red embers.

daniela stood a few steps away, leaning casually against a nearby tree, but her gaze never left you. there was something so effortless in the way you worked, your movements confident and smooth, as if starting fires were just second nature to you. the way you knelt, the slight flex of your muscles as you arranged the wood just so—it all made you look so... capable. so in control.

her breath caught for a second, a warmth rising in her chest that had nothing to do with the fire. she didn’t even realize she was smiling until she caught herself. your quiet determination, your ability to turn a few sticks into something powerful, was somehow the most magnetic thing about you. there was a raw, understated strength in you, and daniela couldn’t bring herself to look away.

“you’re good at that,” daniela finally said, voice soft, as if she were careful not to interrupt the rhythm you’d fallen into.

you glanced up briefly, a flicker of surprise in your eyes before a small, meek smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "thanks," you replied, focus unbreaking, but the slight quirk in your expression told daniela she knew exactly what was going through your mind.

"no, seriously," daniela continued, stepping a little closer, her voice a little lower, "it's... kind of impressive." there was something in her tone now, something deeper, that made you look up at her with a raised eyebrow.

daniela didn't shy away, meeting your gaze with a warmth that mirrored the flames now crackling between them. it wasn’t just the fire that had her attention. it was you—everything about you, from the way you worked with purpose, to the way you seemed to make everything look effortless. and, maybe, just maybe, that was a little too attractive.

“thank you—”

“can you two stop undressing each other with your eyes for a quick second and help me out here? i need more hands.” yena appeared out of thin air, a disgusted look on her face as she crossed her arms, chaewon following behind her as she’d mirrored the exact expression the woman beside her had the moment her gaze fell on the two of you.

“are you incapable of being normal, choi yena?”

it wasn’t until the next week that you noticed daniela hovering around you like a watchdog—always lingering nearby, arms crossed, brows furrowed like she was a detective tailing a suspect. she wasn’t even subtle about it. every time you so much as breathed, her sharp eyes flicked to you, narrowed in suspicion, as if you were plotting some grand crime right under her nose.

it was almost funny. almost.

yena, however, found it downright hilarious.

“so like, you went from admiring y/n to hating her?” yena suddenly popped up behind daniela, munching on a bag of chips she’d somehow smuggled in. she extended the bag toward the latina, who shook her head without even looking, too busy burning holes into the back of your head with her stare.

“who said i hated her?”

yena scoffed, mouth full. “dude, you’ve literally been staring at her like she personally slaughtered your entire bloodline. ask anyone.”

before daniela could retort, yena’s eyes lit up as she spotted manon walking past, her delicate fingers curling around the ghanaian’s wrist to pull her close.

“yo, manz,” yena called, jerking her chin toward daniela with a smirk. “hasn’t she been glaring daggers at y/n?”

manon hummed thoughtfully, lips pursed in faux contemplation before her mouth stretched into a slow, knowing grin. “y/n… oh, the cute one from shadyside?” she teased, her amusement only growing when daniela shot her a glare. “yeah, poor girl. hasn’t done a thing wrong and already gained herself a hater.”

daniela’s frown deepened, arms crossing tighter over her chest as she let out an exasperated breath. “okay, no—i was not glaring at her,” she huffed. “i was just… making sure she doesn’t do anything stupid. y’know, since she’s from shadyside. and—”

“yeah, yeah, whatever. like you ever cared about that bullshit.” yena tutted, cutting her off with a dramatic wave of her hand. “let me stop you right there. because while you’re busy playing hall monitor with y/n, your actual problem is throwing hands outside.”

she pointed her chin toward the commotion outside camp, where daniela’s boyfriend was in the middle of a full-blown meltdown, shoving people like a rabid raccoon and flailing his arms around as if he was possessed.

manon groaned at the sight. “please, for the love of god, go handle that before mt. sophia erupts and we’re all dead.”

daniela clenched her jaw, eyes flickering from the scene outside to you, who were now happily minding your business like you weren’t the supposed criminal she’d been tailing all week.

she sighed. christ.

it was the third week when daniela approached you again, tugging on the sleeve of your shirt and dragging you away from the chaotic mix of shadysiders and sunnyvalers gathered in a circle, shouting over each other in some ridiculous game she hadn’t even bothered to figure out.

her perfectly-sculpted brows furrowed in a deep pinch as she pulled you along with a little more force than necessary. you barely had time to react before yena stepped right in front of the two of you, arms crossed like a bouncer at the entrance of a club. “now, now. where do you two think you’re going?”

daniela let out the most dramatic eye roll known to mankind, while you perked up behind her, a small, playful smirk dancing on your lips as you shot her a look that practically screamed, ‘leave it.’

yena, naturally, ignored it. because why would she ever leave something this juicy alone?

“it’s gonna be dark soon,” yena added, raising an accusatory brow at daniela.

daniela scoffed. “please, we’re just going to fetch firewood for the bonfire tonight.”

you blinked, tilting your head. “we are?”

daniela’s head snapped toward you, briefly faltering for half a second before composing herself. “yes,” she said, more forcefully this time, as if sheer conviction alone would make it true.

yena squinted between the two of you, clearly skeptical, before finally stepping aside. “whatever, just don’t get murdered,” she muttered.

daniela took that as her cue to bolt, practically yanking you behind her like a dog on a leash as she sped-walked toward the woods.

“wait—where are we actually going?” you asked, half-laughing as you stumbled along.

“i told you, we’re picking up firewood for tonight’s bonfire,” she repeated, like that somehow clarified everything.

you mused for a second, feigning deep confusion, then suspicion, before letting a teasing smile creep across your lips. “wait, you’re not bringing me out here to kill me, right?”

daniela huffed, barely sparing you a glance. “oh, please.” a small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as she added, “if i wanted to kill you, you’d be six feet under by now.”

“hot.”

she faltered mid-step. you grinned.

for the next twenty minutes, the two of you wandered through the clearing, picking up dry branches and twigs—well, you were picking up branches and twigs. daniela, on the other hand, was sneaking glances at you like it was her full-time job.

her gaze would linger a little too long when you bent down to grab a log, eyes flickering over the way your shirt clung to your back. she’d watch, mesmerized, as you absentmindedly chewed on the inside of your cheek, the curve of your lips doing things to her. and every time you caught her staring, you’d shoot her a knowing smirk that sent her into a spiral.

“y’know, if you keep staring at me like that, i might start thinking you like what you see,” you mused, tossing a stick onto the small pile you had gathered.

daniela scoffed, crossing her arms as if that would mask the warmth creeping up her neck. “i don’t.”

you hummed, not even trying to hide the amusement in your tone. “whatever you say, watchdog.”

she scowled. “you really don’t shut up, do you?”

“nope,” you grinned. “but don’t worry, i’m starting to think you like that about me.” you murmured, gaining confidence by every second that passed.

daniela groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose as if she were suffering, but the ghost of a smile threatened to betray her.

before you could tease her further, a sudden, ear-splitting scream rang through the clearing.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING?!”

you nearly dropped the entire pile of wood as sophia, the head camp counselor, emerged from the trees like an angry cryptid, her hands on her hips and her expression one of pure exasperation.

daniela, ever the composed one—though she was internally screaming at getting caught—, simply crossed her arms. “fetching firewood,” she said flatly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

sophia looked seconds away from combusting. “THERE’S ALREADY TOO MUCH FIREWOOD. LIKE. WAY TOO MUCH. WE HAVE A WHOLE DAMN PILE BEHIND THE CABINS.”

you pursed your lips, glancing at daniela. she blinked. “…oh.”

sophia exhaled like she had just aged five years. “drop the sticks. go back to camp. now.”

daniela, ever the picture of grace, immediately turned on her heel and started walking back, as if she hadn’t just dragged you all the way out here for absolutely nothing.

you, however, lagged behind for a second, shaking your head with a chuckle before calling out, “well, at least we got some quality bonding time out of it, right, watchdog?”

daniela flipped you off over her shoulder.

but, even in the dim light of the sun setting, you could see the way her lips curled upward, just slightly.

the night air was cool against your skin as you stepped out of the cabin, the soft crunch of leaves beneath your feet the only sound in the stillness. you hadn’t been able to sleep—mind buzzing with thoughts, the stuffy warmth of the cabin making it impossible to get comfortable—so you figured a walk might help. maybe some fresh air. maybe—

your eyes caught on a figure near the dimly burning campfire, hunched slightly, shoulders rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. daniela.

she was sitting on one of the logs surrounding the fire pit, absentmindedly poking at the embers with a stick, watching as little sparks floated up into the night like tiny fireflies. her expression was unreadable, lit only by the soft, flickering glow.

something about it made you pause.

you weren’t sure what compelled you forward, but before you knew it, you were sinking onto the log beside her, close enough to feel the residual warmth of the fire, but not quite touching.

daniela barely reacted, only glancing at you briefly before returning her gaze to the flames.

“couldn’t sleep?” you murmured.

she huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “not really.”

silence settled between you, comfortable but heavy, like there was something waiting to be said. you watched the way she prodded at the embers, her usual sharp demeanor dulled at the edges, almost hesitant.

then, finally—

“i broke up with him,” she said, voice even, but lacking its usual bite.

you blinked, caught off guard for a moment. “your boyfriend?”

daniela let out another humorless laugh, nodding. “yeah.”

holy shit.

you schooled your expression, keeping your face neutral, but internally? you were fucking cheering.

“wow,” you said instead, keeping your tone light but careful. “that’s… a pretty big deal.”

she shrugged, eyes still fixed on the fire. “should’ve done it sooner. he was a jerk.”

there was a weight to her words, a quiet frustration, but more than that—relief.

you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees, watching her carefully. “why now?”

daniela let out a slow breath, tapping the stick against the charred logs. “i don’t know,” she admitted. “maybe i got tired of pretending. maybe i realized that… i wasn’t really happy. or—” she hesitated, her fingers tightening around the stick. “—maybe i was just waiting for the right moment.”

you tilted your head slightly. “and this was the right moment?”

her lips pressed together, like she was debating whether or not to say something, before she finally turned her head to look at you. really look at you.

there was something different in her gaze—something softer, less guarded.

“yeah,” she said quietly. “i think it was.”

your chest tightened, warmth blooming in a way that had nothing to do with the fire.

you didn’t push for more. didn’t tease, didn’t pry. instead, you simply nudged your knee against hers, offering the smallest of smiles. “for what it’s worth, i think you made the right choice. i saw him always fighting with those camp counselors just to see you.”

daniela stared at you for a moment, then exhaled a laugh, shaking her head. “of course you would say that.”

“what? i’m being sincere!” you placed a hand over your heart in mock offense. “i can be nice, y’know.”

she hummed, unconvinced, but her lips curled upward ever so slightly.

the two of you sat there for a while, the fire crackling softly between you, the night stretching quiet and still around the campsite. neither of you rushed to leave. neither of you wanted to.

and later, when you finally dragged yourselves back to the cabins, a quiet understanding settled between you—something unspoken but felt.

something that, after that night, made the space between you feel smaller than ever before.

it started off slow. so slow daniela barely noticed it at first.

the way her eyes lingered on you longer than they should’ve. the way she found herself gravitating toward you more and more, standing closer, brushing shoulders, stealing glances when she thought you wouldn’t notice. the way her stomach twisted whenever you smiled—at her.

it wasn’t like she hadn’t always looked at you. from the moment you stepped foot in sunnyvale wearing that ridiculous dark blue band uniform and met her eyes across the field, daniela had been watching.

but it was different now. before, her stares had been filled with scrutiny, laced with the tiniest bit of frustration at how easily you got under her skin. and now they were filled with something else entirely. something she wasn’t ready to name.

but then—

it was the last week of camp when everything clicked.

the bonfire crackled in the middle of the campsite, a golden glow illuminating the circle of campers gathered around, their faces alight with warmth and laughter. the air was thick with the scent of burning wood, mingled with the distant scent of pine and the lingering traces of marshmallows and chocolate.

and you.

you sat on a log, guitar resting against your lap, fingers plucking at the strings with practiced ease. the opening notes of a song filled the air, soft and familiar, and as soon as your voice joined the melody, daniela felt something shift in her chest.

"well, i guess you'd say…"

her breath caught.

"what can make me feel this way?"

her fingers curled into the fabric of her jeans, stomach twisting as your voice washed over her—gentle, soothing, captivating.

she couldn’t look away.

she wasn’t the only one enraptured—everyone else sat silently, listening intently, swaying slightly to the rhythm—but it felt like the moment belonged only to the two of you. like nothing else existed outside of the glow of the fire, outside of the space between you.

and then you looked at her.

your eyes met across the fire, something soft and knowing dancing in your gaze, and daniela’s heart stopped.

"my girl, my girl, my girl.”

she swallowed hard.

“talkin' 'bout my girl, my girl.”

because that was the moment.

the moment she realized she was completely, hopelessly, utterly in love with you.

not in the way she’d tried to convince herself she wasn’t. not in the way that was casual, fleeting, something she could shake off or push aside.

no—this was real. heavy and warm and terrifying in the best way possible.

her lips parted slightly, breath uneven, her entire body frozen in place as the song continued, the words wrapping around her like a confession she hadn’t even said out loud yet.

"that's all i can talk about is my girl."

you smiled. a tiny, knowing thing.

daniela looked away, suddenly overwhelmed, her hands clenching into fists to steady herself. but it was too late. she couldn’t unfeel it, couldn’t ignore the way her heart ached at the sight of you, couldn’t pretend this wasn’t real.

she was in love with you.

and for the first time, she wasn’t afraid to admit it—to herself, at least.

the kitchen was quiet except for the faint clatter of dishes and the distant murmur of campers outside. daniela wiped her hands on a dishtowel, tossing it onto the counter with a little too much force. yena, leaning against the sink, watched her with an insufferable smirk.

"so," yena drawled, crossing her arms, "you gonna say it, or do i have to spell it out for you?"

daniela shot her a glare. "say what?"

yena scoffed, shaking her head. "oh, come on. that you're in love with y/n."

daniela froze.

yena grinned, clearly savoring the moment. "you act like she’s just some shadysider you have to tolerate, but you’ve been following her around like a lost puppy. you literally sat through her entire song at the bonfire last night, staring at her like she hung the damn moon. and don’t even get me started on the way you look at her when she talks—like you're trying not to combust."

daniela scowled. "i do not look at her like that."

"oh, please," yena snorted. "you're like a victorian man seeing ankles for the first time."

daniela groaned, dragging a hand down her face. "fine. okay. maybe i like her."

yena gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. "maybe? babe, you're in love. in love love.”

daniela rolled her eyes. "oh, shut up."

"nah, this is huge," yena continued, grinning like she just won the lottery. "i mean, the infamous 'i don't need anyone that’s why i broke up with my boyfriend like i did with the others' daniela? falling for a shadysider? this is better than a romcom."

daniela huffed, turning back to the sink, hoping to ignore yena and the smug energy radiating off of her. but then—

"oh."

daniela froze.

yena’s eyes flickered past her shoulder, widening slightly before her smirk returned full force. “well. my cue to leave.” she grabbed her towel and promptly bolted out of the kitchen, leaving daniela alone to face the one person she really didn’t want hearing that conversation.

you.

you stood in the doorway, looking completely stunned, like you weren’t sure if you’d walked in on a confession or a crime scene, before leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, head tilted slightly in amusement. there was a flicker of surprise in your eyes, sure, but it was the kind that faded fast—like you were already settling into the idea, getting comfortable with it.

daniela’s heart was racing. she gripped the counter, trying to ground herself. “how much of that did you hear?”

you hummed, pretending to think. “enough to know that you think i hung the damn moon.”

daniela groaned, running a hand down her face. “kill me now.”

“mm, no can do. i kinda like knowing you have a crush on me.”

daniela gaped at you, and you took slow, measured steps forward, that teasing glint in your eyes growing.

"you know, i was so sure you hated me at first," you mused, tapping a finger against your chin. "but now—"

daniela glared, cheeks burning. "don’t."

"—now, i'm thinking you just didn’t know how to handle your feelings," you finished, grinning. "poor thing."

daniela exhaled sharply, pressing her lips into a thin line. great. just great. she wasn’t even supposed to tell you, let alone have you overhear it in the most humiliating way possible.

silence stretched between you, thick and unsteady.

you took a small step forward. “so… you like me?”

daniela swallowed. she could lie. brush it off. say it was nothing. but looking at you now—playful smile and teasing eyes full of mirth, the way you didn’t look completely horrified—she couldn’t.

so she inhaled deeply and nodded. “yeah. i do.” daniela let out a slow breath, feeling something warm settle in her chest the more you looked at her. your eyes contorting into one of adoration now. “so… what now?”

you smiled, still playful but genuine. “well, usually this is the part where we kiss.”

daniela’s breath caught. her eyes flickered to your lips before she could stop herself. “oh.”

you tilted your head slightly, a soft invitation, no pressure, just you. and for once, daniela didn’t overthink it. she just leaned in.

the kiss was slow, tentative—like testing uncharted waters—but when you sighed softly against her lips, daniela melted. she pulled you closer, her fingers curling at the hem of your shirt, your hands finding her waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.

the kitchen smelled like dish soap and pinewood, the campfire outside still crackling in the distance, but all daniela could focus on was the way your lips moved against hers, the way your hands felt warm against her skin, the way everything—everything—felt right.

when you finally pulled away, you were grinning, eyes crinkling at the edges.

“guess that settles it,” you murmured, eyes flickering between her lips and her gaze. “so worth the wait and dealing with that ex of yours who kept popping in and begging for you to take him back.”

daniela huffed out a small laugh, her forehead resting against yours and pushing you lightly, but you just laughed, grabbing her hand before she could pull away completely.

"and they said shadysiders couldn't have sunnyvalers. guess i'm just built different. i'm the ultimate sig—"

"shut that mouth if you want to keep me."

"ooh, demanding. i like that."

bonus!

yunjin gasped dramatically, a hand clasped up to her chest while chaewon stood frozen beside her with a horrified expression. “you are not dating her. you’re fucking with me. a sunnyvaler? you could do better.”

you scoffed. “she is better.”

“i mean, you’re a shadysider and she’s a sunnyvaler. not to mention, she’s the mayor’s daughter! how the hell are you going to make it work?!” chaewon exclaimed.

you waved the concern away as yena munched on chips at your bed. “oh please, you guys talk about that like it was supposed to stop me. besides, have you guys even checked the news? apparently, they’re gonna join sunnyvale and shadyside. so… what’s the problem now? i’ve got a rich gorgeous, goddess of a girlfriend and we’re no longer gonna be poor like we are. quality month.”

chaewon collapsed face first on the cabin floor.

“i told y’all, she’s gonna be my baby mama.” “i’m throwing you into the lake.” “wait, i can’t swim!”

— please do not repost, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way without permission. thank you! xx

masterlist.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

i am sick rn ;((((( so how about pure vanilla and shadow milk (separately) taking care of a sick reader? i need my silly lil guys doing their best (or worst LMAO) to take care of their beloved -galaxy

Here you go! Hope you feel better soon :(

.....

Pure Vanilla

As a healer, it's only natural that he's the first cookie you called when you started feeling under the weather.

You're certain that you caught a cold from the snowy mountains of Dark Cacao Kingdom while accompanying him to a meeting a few days ago, as your doughy body hasn't stopped shaking since your return despite all attempts to warm yourself up.

Today, you woke up feeling achy all over, barely able to finish your tasks around the kingdom without becoming dizzy or getting sudden chills.

So you've put on bedrest until you feel well, asking one of the bluebirds to send PV a message.

Within the hour, he shows up at your place, bringing some good natural remedies to your bedside.

He also brought some hot jelly soup for when/if you feel like you could eat something light.

While his healing magic mainly extends to injuries, it's able to relieve the aches that plagued your dough.

But he discourages you from jumping up right away, as it took time to work.

Even though you think he's worrying too much over your simple cold, PV admits that he felt partially responsible for getting you sick because he asked you to attend the meeting in the first place.

You tell him that's not true, as you wanted to go and he couldn't have possibly predicted the weather that day. You promise him that you'll recover in no time, and you thank him for being here.

That cheers him up, as he promises to stay with you until you're well enough to move around, assuring you that whatever tasks you had could wait.

Shadow Milk

Despite being an inhabitant of Beast Yeast for years, you weren't familiar with the weather patterns within the Land of Spice...

Until Shadow Milk dragged you into his fellow Beast's domain at the peak of a spice storm one day.

He only wanted to annoy Burning Spice, although after you kept sneezing nonstop during their banter and being the one who annoyed him instead, the jester pouted and decided to warp back to his Spire with you.

Unfortunately, the storm made you terribly sick, with your eyes constantly burning and your throat feeling scratchy.

Shadow Milk only realizes something MIGHT be wrong with you when you refused to come out of your chambers that evening.

He invites himself inside and sees the sorry state you're in, laying in bed with spice particles in your dough and your toppings looking like they're gonna melt at any moment.

He doesn't understand why you're pouting and blaming him for dragging you out into that storm.

He even starts whining like "so you hate me now???? you want me to leave??????"

When you deny that and tell him he can stay, he's suddenly all smiles like "hehe I was gonna stay whether you wanted me to or not, doll. You're gonna have to depend on me now! But then again....you always have, and you always will~"

Sinister undertones aside, he's actually genuinely concerned for your health, taking care of you in-between his duties within the Spire.

He shapeshifts into a doctor/nurse persona, looking up cures for spice-related sicknesses and speaking in medical jargon the whole time he's with you.

He'd gather natural remedies and medicines out in the town no problem, demanding them from every vendor/storekeeper--and of course they listen.

After all, those same folks would gladly give him their left arm in exchange for a comforting lie.

You didn't mind playing the patient role, and you don't question how or where he got all those remedies, as you recover pretty quickly.

He definitely wouldn't dote on Black Sapphire or Candy Apple like this if they ever got sick, so you considered yourself very lucky.

[caitified]

Hello! I absolutely love your family series so much. I love Caitlin’s family but can you please do Paige next?

Can it be like Paige introduces their baby to Geno and CD after Paige’s game (she’s in Dallas already) and idk just cute interactions and fans are eating it up. I hope you give this a shot. Thank you!

INTRODUCTION

PAIGE BUECKERS X FAMILY READER

notes: finally…after literally 100 requests i’m properly starting my paige family series. enjoy! (p.s i think i changed this a bit from the req, sry)

requests are open for this.

packing for any trip with a baby was always a process. no matter how much you tried to pack light, you always ended up with more than you needed.

“paige, we’re not moving to connecticut.” you glanced at her over your shoulder as you zipped up one of eva’s bags. “why does she have like four different pairs of sneakers in here?”

paige, sitting on the floor with eva in her lap, looked up sheepishly. “because she’s gotta look fresh?”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the small smile. “she’s not even walking yet.”

paige turned eva toward her, gently bouncing her. “tell mama you need options, baby.”

eva, six months old with bright blue eyes just like her mom���s, blew a spit bubble.

paige gasped dramatically. “see? she agrees.”

you laughed, shaking your head as you grabbed the last of your things. “fine. whatever. let’s just go before we miss the flight.”

—

the flight from dallas to connecticut wasn’t too bad.

eva, thankfully, was a pretty easy baby. after some snacks, a few rounds of peekaboo with paige, and a little bit of fighting sleep, she finally passed out in your arms.

paige, sitting next to you, smiled down at her before looking at you. “this is so weird,” she murmured.

you shifted slightly to look at her. “what is?”

her lips curled slightly. “going back to uconn. with you. with eva.”

your heart softened. “you’re excited, though, right?”

she nodded. “of course. but, like…” she exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “when i left, i never thought i’d be coming back like this, y’know? like, yeah, i knew i’d visit, but—” she looked down at eva again, voice dropping slightly. “now i have a family.”

you reached for her hand, squeezing gently. “it’s a full-circle moment.”

she nodded, exhaling. “yeah. it really is.”

—

the game itself was electric.

stepping into gampel pavilion again felt like stepping into a time capsule. the energy, the fans, the love—it was all still there.

but this time, instead of sitting courtside just as paige’s girlfriend, you had eva in your lap.

instead of fangirling over paige as the uconn superstar, you were watching her experience the game as a wnba player, an alumni, a legend in her own right.

and, of course, you were just trying to keep eva from throwing her pacifier onto the court.

“baby,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to her head as she wiggled. “no throwing things.”

she cooed back at you, completely ignoring your request.

the fans ate her up.

anytime she clapped her little hands? cheers.

every time she got excited when the crowd got loud? adorable gasps.

by halftime, there were already tweets circulating about how paige’s baby was a uconn legend in the making.

you glanced at paige, who was beaming, filming eva on her phone.

“she’s gonna steal your thunder,” you teased.

paige smirked. “i’d let her.”

—

after the game, it was time for introductions.

geno and cd were already waiting in the tunnel, and the moment paige stepped forward with eva, their faces lit up.

“there’s the real superstar,” geno said, grinning as he looked at eva.

cd, beside him, immediately reached for her. “oh, let me see her!”

eva blinked at them, big blue eyes full of curiosity, before reaching her arms out for cd.

paige gasped, placing a hand over her heart. “i can’t believe this. my own daughter is betraying me.”

you laughed, nudging her. “relax, babe. she just knows good people.”

cd beamed, adjusting eva in her arms. “she’s beautiful, paige.” she glanced at you, smiling warmly. “you two did good.”

geno crossed his arms, tilting his head. “i dunno… she kinda looks too much like paige. are we sure she’s not already stubborn?”

paige gasped. “coach!”

you smirked, shrugging. “i mean, she is kind of a diva.”

geno nodded knowingly. “oh, she definitely got that from her mom.”

eva babbled happily in cd’s arms, clearly enjoying the attention.

paige sighed dramatically, pressing a hand to her forehead. “i can’t believe i came back here to get roasted.”

geno clapped a hand on her shoulder. “it’s what we do, kid.”

she rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile.

you squeezed her hand, grinning.

back home. but better.

i’m in now. keep the paige family requests coming

[grandline-fics]

Hey, hey, hey. I'd love a love potion with katakuri if that inspires you and you have time for it 💕💕

DESCRIPTION: Love Potion- You were both only pretending to date. The feelings aren't real...right?

WARNINGS: none come to mind.

CHARACTERS: Katakuri

WORDS: 1,598

A/N: Thank you for this request @strawberry-000 this one got away with me and I hadn't intended it to get as long as it did. This is my second time writing Katakuri but I hope it was to your liking ♥️

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST | KO-FI | VALENTINES EVENT MASTERLIST

———————

The smell of baking filled the streets of Hakuriki Town. Intoxicating smells perfectly blending together to create the constantly sweet and indulgent atmosphere that kept all the residents in a warm and happy mood. Well maybe not all. Sadly you couldn't exactly join the others around you in their positivity and cheer when you were trying to keep yourself restrained and polite. All you wanted was to just work but instead you had to suffer the annoyance of a coworker standing a little too close and being far too persistent.

“So we both finish our shifts at the same time today.” He began while you glared down at the dough you were kneading expertly. Quickly you forced your expression into one of false calm. You were newer to this bakery and the one trying-and failing- to charm you was the Boss’ favourite. The last thing you wanted was to cause problems and make waves this early. “What do you say you and I go for a well-deserved drink?”

“Oh that'd be fun!” You said with false enthusiasm. You’d refused him so many times already by feigning tiredness or pretending to feel unwell that you needed to try something different. Today’s tactic: ignorance of his intentions. You turned to face him with as sweet a smile you could muster as you put the tray of dough into the oven. “I’ll let the others know and we can make a night out of it. I think we could all do with a work outing after how busy this week has been, don’t you?”

“It’d be kinda awkward bringing the others on a date though.” He laughed, completely sidestepping your plan with ease. “The last thing I'd want is to make them uncomfortable, y’know?” You held back the urge to punch the man in the face. He didn't want to make the rest of your coworkers uncomfortable but had no problem doing it to you if it meant you went on a date with him? Taking things up a gear you blinked at him in surprise. 

“Date?" you repeated innocently. “Oh…I thought you were only asking me out as a friend. I'm sorry but I'm not single.”

Oh you wished you could have fully savoured the bewildered and disappointed look on his face but you were too busy training your expression, appearing apologetic for the misunderstanding. You wished it hadn’t come to this; having to lie about your love life in order to get him to back off but if it meant he stopped asking you out it would be worth it. Then your eye twitched minutely to see your coworker’s confidence slip back into his features. Even that statement wouldn’t deter him from his pursuit. “You're seeing someone? Is it serious?”

“It’s still new but I’m very happy with them.” You explained while moving to grab ingredients to start work on the next batch of pastries. Your boss hadn’t spotted you and your coworker’s idle chatter but if they did, you’d be the only one to be lectured. Not giving them the chance you set about work while gnashing your teeth in frustration, feeling your coworker follow close behind you. You could feel the questions brewing on his tongue and tried to get ahead of it, in the hopes of finally killing the conversation you never wanted to be a part of in the first place. "So happy in fact I don't think he'd take kindly to hear someone else wants to date me.”

"Who is he? I think I could win a fight against him for your affections.” The bold declaration brought a sharp laugh from your lips before you could stop it. Everything already pointed to this guy thinking he was amazing at everything but you knew to look at him he was certainly not a fighter. Quickly you cleared your throat and decided you may as well commit to the lie fully. You needed to think of someone not even his ego would compete with while also being someone who he wouldn't directly have any involvement with. You couldn’t work out why it was the first name your mind conjured but it was out of your mouth before you could come up with anyone else. "It's Katakuri.”

For the rest of the day your coworker left you alone, creating as much distance between you both as possible. Your plan had worked too well. He didn’t question you at all because only someone with a death wish would falsely claim to be seeing a member of the Charlotte Family. When your shift ended you stepped out onto the street and let out a sigh of relief only to freeze at the sight of the Minister of Flour himself leaning against the wall of the building opposite your work. From the look in his eyes you saw that he knew. Was it some sort of sadism that he let you work for hours and finish your shift before ending your life? Somehow you felt enough strength return to your legs to carry you forward the last few steps until you were in front of Katakuri. “So…public execution or imprisonment?”

“Both seem like a harsh punishment.” Katakuri began as he stepped away from the wall and you couldn't help but grow still at how calm his deep, powerful voice was. You then became confused when his eyes slid from your face to look at something behind you. “All he did was ask you out but you set him straight.” Your eyes widened and you heard a panicked squeak behind you but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from the man in front of you. “Had he touched you however, that would be a different conversation.”

You held back a gasp when Katakuri put his arm around you and pulled you into step to walk with him down the street. As light as the action was you could feel the immense power in his hand but you didn’t feel any fear. You felt reassured and protected but your mind was racing. Were you dreaming? What was happening? There was no point in asking how he knew about your lie because the Charlotte family ruled Totto Land, they were powerful enough to learn anything they wished. When you were far enough away from your work you managed to form enough thought to speak the one question you could ask. Nervously you glanced down at his hand still against your body. “Why did you play along?”

“It’s not really important is it?” Katakuri asked, you glanced up and saw that of what you could see of his face his expression was unreadable. “I could ask why you said my name but it wouldn’t really change things. The results are the same. Your coworker won’t bother you again.”

“That may be but that only works out in my benefit.” You stated with a small tilt of your head your curiosity only growing. “What could you possibly be getting out of this little charade?”

“Who knows?” Katakuri mused, watching your lips fall into a small scowl in dissatisfaction at the answer. “You work in a bakery right? Make me some doughnuts and we can say that’s my motivation to keep up your lie for as long as you need to.”

You blinked and let out a soft laugh. Katakuri had his own personal chefs and bakers that could make him anything he desired. Why he’d want your baking baffled you but if it meant he would continue to let you use him to get out of be asked out by people you had no interest in, it was a good trade. “Are you going to break up with me if they don’t taste as good as what you’re used to?”

“Only if they’re completely inedible.” Katakuri let out a small chuckle, amused that you felt so at ease around him to joke that way. He was already aware of how good a baker you were but he said nothing. The truth of the whole situation was that when he used Brûlée’s mirro-world to enjoy his merienda in peace, she kept the mirrors connected to Hakuriki activated so he could still ensure there were no dangers to the island he was in charge of. In that time one conversation caught his attention in particular because of how persistent and grating one voice sounded. He was subjected to hearing your get asked out again and again. Every time you patiently came up with something to end the conversation, your coworker pressed again and again to the point Katakuri became irritated on your behalf but that was just civilian problems. One of many minor grievances people had to deal with, hardly something that required his involvement. Then you conjured up his name as your boyfriend. He wasn’t going to lie, he had been impressed at that and to finally hear your coworker immediately shut his mouth Katakuri decided for that blessing you deserved a reward by legitimising your lie.

“This is me.” You spoke up, spotting your home come into view. “Stop by my work tomorrow and I’ll have your doughnuts ready for you.”

“I look forward to it.” Katakuri told you sincerely, watching you step out from his relaxed hold and walk towards your home to turn in for the evening. When you were inside, Katakuri couldn’t help but smirk underneath his scarf. He hadn’t fully known what to expect when he waited for you outside the bakery but now he was certainly interested in what was going to happen next.

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa, @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @chillerkiller , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya ,  @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @its-a-dam-blue-brick , @thulhu , @appalost , @dindjarins1ut , @irumawife , @laidenbreecatchall , @redwolfxx , @jevoislesbrasdemer , @schanwow , @pao198391 , @glitchtricks94 , @nina-ya , @48daisies , @rosemary-lungs , @sagyunaro , @artemis162534

[kirain]

Part five of my appreciation project.

@bbluxart A fic based on their wonderful art piece here and here. Thank you for feeding the fandom!

Emmrich sat at his desk, the soft scratch of his quill the only sound in the dimly lit study. His brows were furrowed in concentration as he penned the final lines of his acceptance speech, each word weighed with meticulous care. Though sleep clouded his mind, he ignored it—this was far more important.

"'You cannot imagine how much I'... no. 'I cannot thank you enough'? No, that's not it."

Stacks of parchment surrounded him, some filled with earlier drafts, others littered with notes and revisions. The candle beside him burned steadily, casting a bright glow over his work—until a shadow suddenly fell across the page.

Kalais, his elven goddess. She leaned over his desk, arms braced against the wood, her face close enough that he could smell the faint trace of lavender on her skin.

"Are you really going to spend all night scribbling away when you could be spending time with me?" she asked, her voice lilting with mock petulance.

Emmrich chuckled, not looking up. "Tempting as that is, I do have to finish this. The university expects something... coherent, at least."

Kalais sighed dramatically, shifting so that she blocked more of his light. "Are you saying I have to wait to be showered with attention?"

"That does seem to be the case." He finally lifted his gaze, amused. "Though, if it helps, I'm already looking forward to it."

Kalais smirked but said nothing. Instead, she pushed off the desk and stretched, as if preparing to wander off and find something else to entertain herself with.

"Wait, Kalais? Before you turn in," Emmrich said, his voice unusually timid. "I did want to ask—would you accompany me?"

She froze. "To the... ceremony thing?"

"Yes." His expression steeled, no longer flirty, but earnest. "It would mean a great deal to me if you came along."

Kalais forced a smile before he could see the apprehension flicker across her face. "Is this, uh... fancy-fancy? Like, with wine and cheese and hors d'oeuvres and... all that?”

"Yes, but don't worry about that. I just want you there. To celebrate with me."

Kalais hesitated for only a moment before she gave him a breezy grin. "Well, when you put it like that... how can I possibly say no?"

She sounded excited—at least, she hoped she did. Inside, doubt churned in her stomach, but Emmrich was looking at her with such expectance, such conviction, she couldn't bring herself to refuse.

"Marvellous," he sang, relieved. "It wouldn't feel right without you there."

Kalais turned away before he could catch her uncertainty. "Guess I'd better find something to wear, then," she winked over her shoulder.

"Oh, you'll look stunning no matter what you choose, my darling."

Kalais flashed a cheerful wave as he watched her go, her playful bravado intact. But as she closed the door behind her, her smile slipped, and she wondered if she'd made a mistake.

-----

The grand hall of the university glistened with an inescapable air of prestige. Golden chandeliers loomed over rows of blackwood tables and chairs, their polished surfaces reflecting the green glow of countless candles; all lit with a necrotic magic Kalais couldn't even begin to comprehend—and the room was bustling. Scholars and dignitaries from across the kingdom and beyond had gathered to celebrate Emmrich's vast achievements.

Emmrich.

Professor Emmrich Volkarin of the Mourn Watch—a title she'd heard him use only once, the day they met. Yet tonight, it was spoken by every person who shook his hand, clapped his shoulder, and vied for his attention. It was so formal. So unfamiliar.

"I am profoundly grateful to be standing among you this evening. May we continue to expand our knowledge for centuries to come, and make the unknown known."

Applause thundered through the chamber as the university president fastened a medallion of honour around Emmrich's neck, its emblem catching the light. Kalais couldn't be on stage with him, but she smiled as she watched, his speech brief yet brilliant. She knew almost nothing about his research, but she did know this meant a lot to him—a recognition hard-earned and long overdue.

As he accepted his award, she stood at the back of the hall, clutching a single branch of lilacs in her hand. The flowers were delicate, their fragrance a comfort to her anxious heart. She had spent the last of her coins on it, knowing it was Emmrich's favourite; rivalling even his love of Weeping Widowers, but she'd kept it hidden until the proper moment, hoping to surprise him.

Once, he had shared a memory of his late mother tending lilac bushes in her garden—a memory that often brought him peace. He didn't remember much of his parents, but those memories were bright, often triggered by the syrupy-sweet scent and pastel purple hue. Perhaps, Kalais thought, it would make him feel as though she were there, relishing in her son's achievements.

As the awards drew to a close, he stepped off the stage, waving her forward. Kalais nodded, but as she moved closer, her confidence wavered. Emmrich was surrounded by nobles in tailored suits, scholars in richly adorned robes, and students whose laughter rang with the ease of privilege. She wasn't one of them. She wasn't an academic or a necromancer. She had never belonged in a place like this, and she knew that sentiment was shared.

"Goodness, look who's here," a sharp voice cut through the crowd.

Kalais paled.

Vanessa Schulzer, one of Emmrich's fellow professors, stood with a small cluster of colleagues, all of whom had made their disapproval of their relationship abundantly clear. Kalais had met them once before in the Necropolis, during a perilous expedition. They had mistaken her for a tomb robber, their accusations tempered only by Emmrich's intervention.

"If it isn't... what was your name again? Kaless?"

"Kalais," she answered plainly.

"Oh, that's right," the woman cooed. Her vibrant gown and pearly chains of office glittered—a stark contrast to Kalais' threadbare dress. "I must say, I'm surprised to see you here," she continued, her tone pure politeness and venom.

"Is there some reason I shouldn't be?" Kalais asked, holding back for Emmrich's sake.

"Not at all. As I said, I'm just surprised. After our... introduction in the Necropolis, I didn't get the impression you had much interest in our craft."

"I wasn't stealing," Kalais groaned.

"Of course you weren't, dear. Of course you weren't. I only meant you seemed slightly out of your depth."

An uncomfortable silence, before the woman laughed delightedly, swirling the glass of wine in her hand.

"Quite the evening, isn't it? A true celebration of academic excellence." She took a sip, her cold, azure eyes studying Kalais like a jeweler appraising a flawed gem; searching, scrutinising. "Would I be correct in assuming this is your first time attending an event such as this?"

The others snickered, the gibe conspicuous.

"First time, yeah," Kalais smiled. "We've been so busy saving the world, we haven't had much time for diversions. But we made an exception for this."

The group frowned, visibly irritated, but they recovered quickly, Vanessa's eyes flicking to the lilacs in Kalais' hand.

"And what's this?" she asked, her lips curling in amusement. "A gift?"

Kalais flinched, tucking the branch somewhat behind her back. "For Emmrich. To congratulate him."

Another professor, Enrique Webb, chuckled at the display. "How... quaint. I'm sure it will slide in quite nicely with one of the many bouquets he's already received."

"He likes lilacs," Kalais said, trying not to sound defensive.

She failed.

"He does," Vanessa chided. "But lilacs are a copper a dozen. The professor is being honoured for a lifetime of contributions to necromancy, Fade exploration, and magical theory. A single stick of lilacs compared to the rest of the accolades he's receiving tonight—" She winced, feigning sincerity. "Well, I don't mean to disparage your efforts, but it does feel a little insulting. Don't you agree?"

"It's a nice thought," another professor chimed. "It just doesn't fit the occasion. We call that 'undervaluation', and it's taken very seriously here."

"I bought him one of those revolutionary new pens I've been hearing so much about," Enrique said proudly. "It will be instrumental in aiding his work to come."

"I bought him an engraved cluster ring," another woman added. "Enchanted, of course, to read the proximity of spirits."

"Doesn't he already have one of those?"

"Yes, but it's tarnished. Volkarin appreciates..." She looked Kalais up and down. "Finer things."

Laughter rippled through the group, their words cutting deep, while Kalais' grip tightened around the branch of lilacs. She had known they wouldn't welcome her, but the sting of their mockery still burned. She glanced towards Emmrich, still engrossed in conversation with the elite, unaware of the exchange. Perhaps they were right, but she wasn't about to give them the satisfaction.

"You don't know Emmrich like I do. He appreciates the finer things, yes, but he appreciates affection more. His mother—"

"Excuse you?" Vanessa snapped. "We've been working with him for decades. Some of us went to school with him. You've known him a total of... six months? That hardly makes you an expert."

"And what exactly are you an expert in?" Enrique pressed. "Volkarin is an intellectual. Above all, he appreciates intelligence the most. You're here to celebrate his accomplishments, but do you even know what they are? Do you understand them?"

"I..." Kalais looked away, her ears drooping.

"We mean no offense, of course," Vanessa sneered. "You're very pretty. I think we're all just a little shocked Volkarin chose such an... unlettered inamorata." She took another sip of her wine, her eyes boring through the young elf like a spear. "I would be happy to educate you on our craft, of course. I am an excellent teacher, after all. You only need to ask."

"That's right," Enrique tittered. "You know what they say—the first step is admitting you need help."

Kalais tensed, her arms shaking. She wanted to tear into them; she could have, but this was Emmrich's night—and they were right. She didn't belong there. Without another word, she turned away, the group's jeers echoing behind her. As she passed a waste bin, she dropped the lilacs inside, their petals trembling, mirroring her despair.

Then, she headed for the doors.

-----

As the celebration wound down, Emmrich wandered the hall, his thoughts preoccupied. He was looking for her, cutting every conversation short as his eyes scanned the room.

"Kalais?" he choked, his tone laced with concern. "Darling, where are you?"

"Good evening, Emmrich," Vanessa said, slithering up beside him. "I believe congratulations are in order—"

"Have you seen Kalais?" he asked hurriedly.

The woman stifled a groan. "Kalais? Who was that again?"

"You know very well," Emmrich huffed. "I arrived with her."

"Ah, yes, the elf woman. Last I saw, she was heading for the buffet."

"She isn't there," he countered, his head turning in all directions. "That was the first place I searched."

"I'm sure she's mingling elsewhere," the woman decried. "In the meantime, I have something for you." With a suggestive glance, she pulled an ornamented box from her purse. "It was a challenge to find, but I managed to—"

"Forgive me, but I really must find her," Emmrich interrupted.

And he walked away, leaving Vanessa shunned and forsaken.

"Kalais!" he yelled over the music and chatter. "Kalais, can you hear me? Please, darling, where are you?"

As he neared the back wall, his eyes caught a flash of mauve, stopping him in his tracks. In the bin, a branch of lilacs lay atop a pile of trash, the colour standing out amongst the manilla wrappers and containers. Curious, he picked it up, its inexorable scent stirring something deep within him.

"Who left this here?" he murmured, running his fingers over the delicate petals.

A voice, faint and otherworldly, answered him.

"One who admires you greatly, Professor."

Emmrich turned to see a translucent figure manifesting behind him—a spirit draped in soft, glowing light. It wasn't uncommon for spirits to gather in the university, especially during celebrations, where emotions ran high.

"With whom do I speak?" he asked, respectfully.

"I am but a watcher of moments, drawn to the pain I witnessed here tonight," the spirit replied.

"An observer," Emmrich said, fascinated, "who witnessed... pain? Here, in this merry hall?"

The spirit nodded. "A pain not marking the flesh, but scathing the soul."

Emmrich's back stiffened with a strangling sense of dread. "Would you be willing to show me?"

"Behold."

The spirit lifted its hand, and the air around them changed. Through its eyes, Emmrich saw the night replay before him like a vivid dream. He saw Kalais approach his colleagues. He saw her expression dull as they spoke cruelly—taunting her, humiliating her. He saw her leave, her head bowed. He saw her drop the lilacs in the bin.

Then, the vision faded.

Emmrich gripped the branch tightly, his heart twisting with anger and sorrow.

He had no idea.

-----

A fair walk from the university, Kalais sat on a bench beneath the night sky, the distant hum of the celebration fading into silence. The cool breeze pricked at her skin, crisp and invigorating, yet it did little to soothe the ache in her chest.

"I'm sorry..." she grimaced.

Her eyes fell to the grass, shame whirling through her like a fever. She had left Emmrich behind, but it was for the best. As insufferable as his colleagues might have been, they belonged in his world—she didn't. He deserved someone who could stand beside him, not someone who struggled to understand the simplicity of self-abnegation techniques for sub-astral navigation.

"Darling?"

Kalais looked up, startled to see Emmrich standing before her.

"Emmrich?" she whispered, rising to her feet. "I just... needed some fresh air." She forced a smile, unaware that it broke him inside and out. "You didn't have to come looking for me. I was just about to head back in—"

"This," he said, holding up the flowers, "means more to me than all the grand speeches and applause I received here tonight."

Kalais gasped, but quickly looked away, embarrassed. "I didn't think you'd want it," she admitted, her voice low. "It just seemed... out of place."

"Out of place?" Emmrich frowned, then stepped closer, his boots nearly touching hers. "You belong, my darling. You belong with me. Never let anyone tell you otherwise." A faint blush spread across her cheeks as she saw the veracity blazing in his eyes. "Those who tried to belittle you this evening—they have much to learn about strength of character. It seems they've forgotten that I myself came from nothing, and I have no qualms about reminding them."

"Emmrich, you don't have to—"

His hands came up, gently pinning the flowers to her dress like a corsage. "Darling, do you know what the lilac represents?"

Kalais paused, her heart racing. "No. What?"

He smiled handsomely. "Love, innocence, youth, and nostalgia." As the stem slipped into the perfect position, he moved his hands to her waist, admiring the way the petals accentuated her natural beauty. "You are my lilac, my love. The sweetest, most precious thing in my life."

"Emmrich..."

Before she could say another word, he leaned in, capturing her lips with his. It was soft at first; gradual, searching, as if coaxing her back from the depths of her insecurity. His lips were both desperate and patient, and the way he kissed her sent a shiver down her spine.

"Mmhm..." Kalais moaned, melting into him before she could realise it, her fingers gripping his coat.

He felt it—and he deepened the kiss, parting her lips with the barest flick of his tongue. The teasing brush sent heat curling in her stomach, and then lower as one of his hands roamed to the back of her head, his fingers lacing through her hair. Kalais responded in kind, parting her lips further, inviting him in as she slipped her arms over his shoulders.

He tasted of wine and something richer—something uniquely him. His tongue stroked against hers, hungry and lingering, turning the kiss from a gentle reassurance into something far more intoxicating. As another moan escaped her throat, he swallowed it thirstily, his other hand squeezing her waist just a shade tighter.

To remind her she was wanted.

In that moment, the world blurred. There was no university, no judgmental scholars, no crushing self-doubt—only the warmth of Emmrich's mouth, the press of his body, the delicious drag of his tongue against hers. This kiss, possessive and passionate, proved to her that he believed she was worth holding onto.

Then—a shimmer at the edge of their vision. A flicker, soft and ethereal. Another. Then more.

Wisps.

Like fallen stars, they drifted from the trees, gliding in slow, captivating spirals. Drawn to the bond between them, they circled the pair, their spectral glow bathing the moment in a hushed, enchanted light, silvery-blue and striking. Kalais felt their presence, the air thick with magic, and nearly pulled away—but Emmrich wouldn't allow it. His hands tightened, his lips pressing harder into hers, sealing them in this perfect, fleeting eternity.

At that, the wisps pulsed, their light swirling in time with the beat of their hearts, as if blessing their love with mystic approval.

They were meant to be.

When Emmrich finally pulled away, Kalais' eyes gleamed, welling with tears. He always saw her, even when she tried to hide herself.

"Do you want to go home?" he asked suddenly, wiping her tears with his thumb.

"But... your party," she wheezed, basking in the sensation of his touch. "And all that... food," she drooled.

Emmrich laughed, her pain seeming to vanish at the prospect.

"Then let's go feast," he said, cupping her chin. "On the wine and cheese and hors d'oeuvres and... all that." Kalais giggled, making his chest swell with ecstasy. "But only if you promise to be the loudest, most outrageous person in the room. No apologies."

She grinned, hugging his arm. "I can do that."

"Good. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Together, they walked back towards the university with their heads held high, the lilacs a solace in the corner of Emmrich's eye.

[makeitmingi]

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 15]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.2K

Chapter warning(s): Alcohol consumption, violence.

"(y/n)! There you are! Are you okay? Where were you?" Nana came to you with a worried Eve behind her.

"H-Huh? Oh yeah. Was just wandering around. Sorry, I didn't realise I was gone for so long." You forced a smile. There was a foreign feeling in your chest at how Hongjoong looked at you and spoke to you but you pushed it down.

"The big event of tonight is going on. The drivers look cute." Eve giggled as you all moved to a different spot to watch. Wooyoung was one of the drivers.

"That driver in the black car always wins. Him and his team." Nana leaned over to tell the two of you.

"They're all so good looking." Eve squealed, catching a glimpse of Hongjoong and the others who were seated together.

"Winner! Team Ateez!" The announcer yelled as Wooyoung's car passed the finishing line. Everyone cheered for him as Wooyoung stepped out with a confident smirk.

"It's getting a little stuffy. Can we go?" You asked your friends.

"Sure. The major events are over already anyway. And we can always come back." Nana chuckled as the 3 of you headed for the exit.

"(y/n)? Is that you?" You didn't expect Wooyoung to cross paths with you since the exit was near the finishing line. You could feel the prying stares of your friends on you.

"Hey..." You awkwardly waved. Wooyoung sent you a friendly smile and a wink before slinging his arm around San, who jogged over to congratulate his best friend. Before Wooyoung could tell San about you being here, San led him away. At the same time, you ushered your friends through the exit.

"YOU KNOW HIM?!" Eve and Nana shouted at you once you were outside, making you wince.

"Kind of...?" You rubbed the back of your neck.

"Ah, guys. It's complicated, I don't really want to talk about it." You sighed as your two friends threw all sorts of questions at you. But at your words, their eyes widened.

"No! It's nothing like that!" You knew what they were thinking and immediately shot it down.

"San, quit pushing me. I was gonna tell you that (y/n) was there." Wooyoung slapped his best friend on the arm.

"We know... We're not supposed to draw attention to ourselves remember? The whole secret... We cannot be seen with her when we don't know who is here." San reminded.

"You all saw her already?" Wooyoung raised an eyebrow as he lit a fresh cigarette. San nodded his head.

"Damn... She must be shocked. WAIT! Did she seem Hongjoong hyung?" His eyes widened. San nodded glumly but judging by his reaction, it wasn't good. Wooyoung let out a curse and clicked his tongue as they walked to where the others were.

"But she looked hot. I barely recognised her, could have mistaken her for someone else." Wooyoung said and Mingi nodded in agreement, having almost flirted with you.

"Tell me about it. I was gonna ask her to come to the afterparty." Mingi mumbled.

"Shut up, you two." Seonghwa hissed, watching Hongjoong's stoic expression as the two talked behind him.

"Here." The organiser came over with their cut of the money. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Yeosang took their stacks, flipping through to money to count.

"It's all here. Thanks." Seonghwa nodded to the guy, keeping his money in his jacket pocket.

"Let's go." Hongjoong rounded everyone up.

"Yes, captain." The 7 got up and they all walked together, keeping at Hongjoong's pace since he had the cane. Everyone looked on in awe and slight fear of them, no one dared to approach or even make eye contact with any of them. Jongho opened the door to the passenger seat of Mingi's car for the captain.

"Thanks, Jong." Hongjoong sighed, annoyed that he couldn't even drive his own car with how busted his knee was. With that, the sports cars all peeled out of the parking area.

"How's the cane, hyung?" Mingi asked.

"The raven skull top is easier to hold than the human skull one." Hongjoong held up the cane.

"Also because Wooyoung and Seonghwa hyung bedazzled the human skull so it hurt to hold the top, right?" Jongho pointed out from the backseat.

"Exactly." Hongjoong rolled his eyes.

"They need better arts and crafts projects." Mingi laughed. And soon, the car pulled up to the back of Wooyoung's club, the VIP entrance.

"Boss, the VIP room is ready for you." The manager was out to greet them as they stepped out of their cars. Mingi handed his keys to the valet and ran to his place by Hongjoong's side.

"Slow pokes!" San stuck his tongue out as Mingi, Jongho and Hongjoong walked in.

"Not our fault grandpa takes so long to go up the stairs." Jongho snicked and Hongjoong jabbed him with his cane. Once they all sat down, in a private room, with a two way mirror to watch the rest of the club, they gave their orders to the manager.

"What's with you?" Yeosang asked Wooyoung, who was bouncing his leg as he spread his arms across the back of the couches, looking out into the club.

"Race adrenaline taking a while to wear off. I'm going for another smoke." Wooyoung stood up and went out.

"He's gonna beat someone up." Yunho chuckled.

"It's his place, he can do whatever he wants." Seonghwa shrugged. The manager brought the tray of drinks and some snacks, giving out the drinks to the respective members.

"I still can't believe we ran into (y/n) there." Yeosang shook his head as he took a sip.

"She was with friends, she said that they were the ones that brought her there. It's her first time at the races." San said.

"She shouldn't be there, it's too dangerous. It's even more dangerous that she recongised us and tried to talk to us." Hongjoong sighed with a click of his tongue.

"But hyung, she doesn't know that... We haven't told her anything so we can't blame her for not knowing. It's only natural that she says hi or talks to us when she sees us." Yunho spoke. Hongjoong shot Yunho a confused look while Seonghwa sighed, not liking where this was going.

"I never said I blamed her." Hongjoong frowned.

"I know but she just looked so hurt when you gave her the cold shoulder." Yunho shrugged and drank his drink.

"Why do you suddenly care so much about her?" Hongjoong stood up. Yes, Hongjoong got to know you first but for some reason, it irked him to see how easily friendly Yunho was with you.

"It's not that I suddenly care or anything. She's a friend, hyung. That's all." Yunho said, keeping completely calm.

"Okay, you two, stop it. Enough about (y/n). We're here to celebrate wins and relax." Seonghwa stood up between the two.

"Sorry, hyung." Yunho apologised to Seonghwa. Hongjoong clicked his tongue and grabbed his cane, leaving the room. He limped to the bar to get a refill.

"I need a stronger drink." Seonghwa mumbled, rubbing his temples.

"Woo." Hongjoong stepped out into the back alley, a filled glass of whiskey in his free hand.

"Oh, captain. What are you doing out here?" Wooyoung turned to see the leader and stood up from his crouched position over the body that was on the ground. Wooyoung shook his hands to relieve the slight ache that settled in his joints.

"Feel better?" Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, holding out his glass to Wooyoung to let him drink. The younger grinned and took it, taking a sip of the golden liquor.

"Yeah, the winning adrenaline wore off. Luckily we had this guy come here and stir trouble." Wooyoung nodded over to the body.

"What did he do?" Hongjoong scoffed.

"Does it matter?" Wooyoung raised an eyebrow. Hongjoong conceeded and didn't ask further. Like he said earlier, this was Wooyoung's place, he could do whatever he wanted.

"Is he dead?" Hongjoong asked.

"Nah, I punched his face in but not hard enough to kill him. I'll get my boys to move him somewhere." He took his phone out.

"Wooyoung sshi." A meek voice interruted them. Hongjoong didn't know the guy but Wooyoung seemed to. He gave the man a nod before he was handed something.

"Thanks." Wooyoung said and the man bowed before walking away. Wooyoung tucked the small item into his pocket.

"Looks like I got my next invite." He smirked to the captain. Finally, something that made Hongjoong smile that night. Wooyoung was doing well at the poker games, and with their reputation, he was constantly getting invited for the following games. This was good, it meant he could get information.

"I'll take San with me as my plus 1 for the next game. Take the chance to promote the casino too." Wooyoung informed, to which Hongjoong nodded.

"That's a good idea, it provides an opportunity for one of the next private games to be held there." Hongjoong said.

"Are you ready to head in? Or are you still angry at whoever fought with you?" Wooyoung chuckled.

"I didn't fight with anyone." Hongjoong rolled his eyes.

"Sure~" Wooyoung teased and held the door open for Hongjoong to walk in. The two headed back to the VIP area, where the others were. San was passed out in Yunho's lap and Seonghwa was half asleep.

"Hwa? Did you drink too much too fast again?" Hongjoong asked his best friend, who was swaying back and forth.

"You're an idiot..." Seonghwa punched Hongjoong's arm lightly before leaning his head on his shoulder.

"I know, I'm always causing you trouble." Hongjoong chuckled, patting Seonghwa's thigh as he drank his drink. Seonghwa hummed, snuggling against Hongjoong's shoulder.

"Yes! You are... You are... the worst... out of all the kids..." Seonghwa said amidst a tired yawn. Seonghwa and Hongjoong have always been there for each other, they are complete opposites but that's why they work so well together.

"Mingi, help Hwa. Let's go home before more of you pass out here." Hongjoong said.

"Yes, captain." Everyone who was awake/ sober replied. Hongjoong stayed in his spot, waiting for Mingi to come over and help Seonghwa up first.

"Careful, hyung." Yeosang helped Hongjoong stand.

"I'll call our drivers..." Jongho stumbled a little as he took his phone out. None of them were in the condition to drive.

"Alright, we should go. Make sure we have people come pick up the cars tomorrow." Hongjoong put a stack of money down on the table and they all left the VIP area to wait for the cars out back.

Once all the boys were loaded into the vans, the drivers drove them back home.

"I'm fine, help the others." Hongjoong stopped the butler from going to help him. The butler bowed and went to help the others instead.

"Ah, hyung. You should really move to one of the downstairs rooms. It'll be much easier on your knee." Yeosang said as he and Wooyoung supported each other up the stairs.

"There's no point since my office is upstairs anyway. It's easier to move between my room and office if I remain upstairs, I'm in there most of the time." Hongjoong reasoned as he went into his room, closing the door behind him. He tossed the cane aside, frankly annoyed by it already.

"Yun, I know you’re awake and sober." Mingi came crept into his best friend’s room. As if on cue, Yunho walked out of his bathroom, wiping his face with a towel.

"Mmm?" Yunho hummed and headed to his dresser to grabbed a t shirt, pulling it over his head.

"What did you need?" Yunho yawned, watching as Mingi climbed into his bed. It was such a common occurrence, they always slept in each other’s beds.

"Dude, why were you starting shit with Hongjoong hyung earlier? And don't blame the alcohol." Mingi raised an eyebrow.

"Geez, I wasn't trying to start anything. And no, I don't have a crush on (y/n)." Yunho said when he saw Mingi open his mouth, who closed it.

"(y/n)'s a nice girl and she's navigating grief just like Hongjoong hyung is..." Yunho started.

"Wait, hold on. Stop right there. Are you trying to set them up?!" Mingi let out a gasp of realisation. Yunho couldn't help the mischievous smirk that crept onto his face as Mingi gave a wary look.

"I'm not trying to set them up... actively trying, at least. I'm just trying to create opportunities for them to get to know each other better. But that aside, (y/n) is still human, Hongjoong hyung should be treating her nicer instead of treating her like us." Yunho shrugged.

"Look man, as your best friend, I just hope you know what you're doing." Mingi said, laying down on the pillow and pulling the blanket over him.

"And I'm not saying that for Hongjoong hyung. But I'd hate to see (y/n) be the one to come out of this hurt." He added.

-

"Ohhh..." Nana and Eve said in unison as you told them the gist of how you knew Hongjoong and the others. You nodded, nursing the hot cup of tea in your hands before you.

"So he's Mrs Kim's son?" Eve asked. You nodded in confirmation.

Instead of heading home after leaving the race, the 3 of you settled in a quiet 24 hour cafe to relax.

"Met him at the funeral and we've been acquainted ever since? I do gardening work at their house, that's it." You said, purposely leaving out that you and Hongjoong were 'friends'. Because after tonight, you were doubting this whole friends thing. Maybe it was all in your head and you weren't friends at all.

"But they're like... big, you know? I mean, I've seen them at the races, even thought I've only just started going. But they win, all the time." Nana said, sipping her coffee.

"Just be careful, alright (y/n)? They seem a little dangerous." Eve sent you a worried smile.

"I will, Eve. Don't worry." You smiled and finished your tea.

"And Mrs Kim was so nice! But we know she was very close with you, (y/n). It must not be easy." Nana sent you a sad smile. You let out a soft sigh at that.

Since it was a nice night out, you decided to split ways with your friends and walk home. It wasn't a far walk and you wanted some fresh air to breathe a little.

"What were you thinking, pabo?" You hit your temples with your fists as you walked home, thinking about what you did.

Maybe you shouldn't have approached Hongjoong. Who were you, compared to someone of his status?

"Ah, whatever." You let out a sigh of defeat as you entered your house. After taking a shower and changing into more comfortable clothes, you sat down and did some work. With a really big event coming up, you wanted to plan the floral designs.

You assumed that the event must be big or important because you were only given brief details about it like the time, date and location. And since you were on your own, your friends volunteered to help.

"Silver and black, huh?" You did a rough sketch of the table arrangements and floral pillars that would go by the doors.

*1 attachment sent to (y/n)'s Flower Fairies*

'I still question the name of this group chat... Why can't we have a normal name. - Jihoon'

'Shut up. It's cute! And the designs are cute, (y/n)! Also, why are you still working at this hour? Go to sleep and design stuff tomorrow! It's time to bed. - Nana'

'Yeah, sleep is important to stay healthy! - Hyunwoo'

'I will soon! I couldn't sleep so I thought I would tire myself out by doing some design work... - (y/n)'

'The designs are so prettyyyy but yes, go to bed (y/n)! And everyone else too - Eve'

You were grateful for your friends. It was a small group but you would always be ready to help each other if needed. They, along with Mrs Kim, made your world feel a lot less lonely.

With that, you put your iPad aside and tried to sleep since you knew you had to work tomorrow. You let out a sigh of relief when you realised that you were not working at Hongjoong's house tomorrow but just your own store. That would give you a few days to get over the odd ache in your chest that you felt.

Luckily work the next day was busy. On top of orders, you had to make some draft designs for the big event and send them over to the organiser for approval.

"(y/n)? Are you here?"

"Yeah, I'm at my work desk Hyunwoo!" You replied. Hyunwoo appeared from the hallway leading to the back door.

"Hey~ Is that the design for the event? It's pretty." He complimented as he took a seat across your work table. You hummed in confirmation and continued working.

"I hope you don't mind, I'm here to escape from stuffy clients and have my lunch in peace." He grinned.

"Of course I don't. Go ahead. You own the place and yet, you're running away." You giggled.

"The reality of business." He sighed exasperatedly and took his lunch box out. Since you were working during your lunch, you had packed a sandwich from home to make it easier to eat and work.

"That's not enough, (y/n)." Hyunwoo said, noticing your small sandwich compared to his huge lunch box with many layers.

"I'm not bulking like you so it's more than enough for me. You know I don't really eat much for lunch when I am distracted. Plus, I have a box of fruit in the fridge that I'll eat later." You said, nodding over to the fridge. Hyunwoo sent you a suspicious look.

"You shouldn't even be working during your lunch in the first place." Hyunwoo whined.

"I know but I'm excited to get this done. I haven't really done such a big event like this on my own before. Usually, I'm asked to be a part of an event team, never lead it." You chuckled.

"It's a great opportunity. I'm glad someone recognises your talent." Hyunwoo smiled as he ate his food.

"Thank you, Hyunwoo. I just hope I don't mess it up." You smiled.

"You won't. Have more faith in yourself. And maybe this will be the chance to get your shop's name out there. Get bigger and grow the business." He laughed.

"That's a very far dream. But I am happy where I am now too. Gives me time to work on my botany and practice it." You giggled.

"Which by the way, the recovery elixir I've added to my bone broth is super good. I feel amazing and have lesser muscle cramps, definitely quicker recovery after my work outs." He complimented.

"That's a relief. I'm glad it worked." You said, taking your journel down from the shelf and flipping to the page with the elixir recipe. You jotted down the notes and good review from Hyunwoo with a satisfied smile on your face. Then you went back to your previous task, which was photo taking.

"There, sent to the organiser. Hopefully they like it." You crossed your fingers and typed out the email with the photos attached to send to the organiser.

~

Series masterlist

[pulchraa]

obsessions

parings; stalker! simon riley x reader summary; his little crush becomes something more. warnings; stalking, language, uh idk. a/n; ive been gone a while.... i had the sudden urge to write this while rewatching the movie thirteen. such a good movie btw. with that, enjoy <3 word count; 0.65k

he watched your dwindling figure linger near the bar. simon observed how you made little faces at the pestering men around you. barely noticeable, but there. you stayed within earshot of your group but also wandered, searching?

nah, what would a cute 'n too shy birdie like you be searchin' for at a place like this? simon thought to himself.

he and his own men sat at a round booth, all cackling and shouting to one another. the hunk grew tired of it at times- all the loud noise and banter made him crave peace, quiet, tranquility.

he turned his attention to his group. once again, joining the conversation. simons eyes wandered, but never too far from his new pet.

simons eyes wander to a man, seemingly headed towards your direction. he watches as the man glances back to his friends, they snicker and cheer him on.

in simons eyes, a man like that could never have good intentions with his bird.

he watches intently as the man comes up to you and introduces himself. simon is close enough within earshot to where he can hear bits and pieces of your conversation. the man introduces himself as arthur. simon continues watching as you and the man talk.

half an hour passes and he notices that you're growing uncomfortable with the man's touch after every passing minute. your eyes glass with fear as you look around for anyone who may be watching. simon would have to be crazy to not notice.

when arthur grabbed you by the arm and tried to pull you away is when simon had seen enough.

"the fucks 'ya problem? she don' want it, mate." his deep voice rumbling through the loud and clammy air. arthur looks him up and down, trying to size him up. simons presence only makes his grip on your arm tighten, causing you to let out a small wince.

your fingers gently attempt to pry his hand off, giving simon pleading looks of help.

"you know him?" arthur's eyes bore into mine, desperate to see through me.

"no... you're hurting me." you whisper to him gently. simons gritting teeth are hidden below his mask. he grabs the man's arm.

"wha'? you think m'fuckin' joking?" after another minute of sizing up one another, arthur backs down. he puts his hands up in surrender, slowly backing up.

"you okay?" he looks me up and down with a hint of concern in his eyes. i nod before thanking him and heading home for the night.

he follows you home that night. mustering up some shit excuse to the rest of the group about how hes 'had enough to drink f' the night.'

of course simon followed you home, he just couldn't leave his pet alone. he had to make sure you were okay, and that no creepy men were following you.

you always had a weird feeling to keep checking over your shoulder. it always felt like you had another set of eyes on you. i mean, it only made sense considering you found weird muddy boot prints on your porch. they were too big to be yours, and you didn't invite anyone over. hm, odd.

he always lurked. always around making sure you were safe and out of harm's way.

you walk through the grocery isles, pushing the cart filled lightly with items. you stop in front of the bread scanning for the one that looks the most enticing.

a light hand taps your shoulder. you turn to see a familiar face- or mask. "can i help you?" you ask softly

suddenly simon freezes up, is he actually doing this? you wait, your eyebrows raising in anticipation.

"could i get your number?"

the question was unexpected to say the least. a big and burly man like him asking for your number? this was not what you expected. but you say yes, how could his bird say no?

[paladin--strait]

soulmates part 6

luke hughes x reader

tw!!: angst, use of y/n, reader can be depicted as any body shape/size, female reader. this story moves kinda fast, since I want it to only be a couple of parts long. this is a complete work of fiction. I am in no way saying or implying that these people act the way they do in the story. I am open to any sort of constructive criticism! thank you!

series masterlist here!

-

i wake up in between jamie and trevor, sweating. i sit up, looking around and realizing it's still late at night as a random movie now plays on the tv. i carefully untangle myself from their arms and legs, trevor's snores filling the room as i step out.

i carefully make my way downstairs, my throat dry and in need of hydration. i cough, but it's covered by my shirt, making it quieter. i step down the wood stairs, the boards creaking below me.

i walk into the kitchen to grab some water, soothing my dry throat. once i turn to go back upstairs, i notice a dark figure standing at the end of the dock. i squint, recognizing the fluffy hair underneath the beanie that sits on their head. i silently make my way outside, walking down the dock. my feet pattering as i step. the figures head never turns, but i can see them tense, they know i'm there.

"quinn?" i whisper, kicking off my slippers and moving to sit beside him at the edge of the dock, our legs swinging off the end. "what are you doing out here? it's cold and dark, you'll get sick."

he's silent, until he speaks. "i always called you sweetheart."

"what?" i ask, tilting my head in confusion. "what are you talking about?"

"luke. he calls you sweetheart. that was my thing." quinn says quietly, his gaze never leaving the water.

my expression drops a little, remembering he overheard my conversation with trevor and jamie earlier in the hallway. "quinn..."

"how did you not see it?" he whispers, his tone filled with hurt and almost anger. "y/n, i love you. i love everything about you. the way your face crinkles when you smile, the way your whole body trembles when you laugh, the way you cheered me on at my games, the way you would come over when i was feeling sad to put your arms around me and make me feel better. everything about you, i love."

"i'm sorry quinn..." my face drops the more he talks, along with my heart. i truly never knew he felt this way, and my heart is filled with guilt. "why didn't you tell me?"

"i didn't tell you because i didn't even know what i was feeling until deep into our friendship. it would've ruined everything, and i'd rather keep you as a friend over losing you completely." quinn says, finally looking up to make eye contact with me.

"quinn, i don't know what to say...this is all so sudden." i shake my head in almost disbelief. "one second you're telling me how much you want me to be with luke, and now you're telling me how much you love me. i don't know what you want me to do."

"i don't know what i want you to do either." he says, looking back down at the water. "but i know one thing, i can't control what you do or who you love. all i want...is to see you happy." his voice trembles as he speaks, and i'm left speechless.

i look down at the water as well, trying to find the right words. my mind and heart are filled with confusion and guilt. if i had known quinn liked me so much, things could have ended so much differently, but i didn't know, and now my heart pounds with a fear like feeling. normally at a time like this, i would ask myself what quinn would do, but i can't ask myself that this time.

we sit in silence for what feels like hours, until the silence is broken. a hurt "i'm sorry." fills the air, our heads snapping to look at each other after we spoke the same words. my eyes are wide when i see his face, his face is red and swollen, eyes tired and sunken in. i wasn't able to see it earlier, but since the could have moved away from the moon, his hurt face is illuminated by the moonlight.

"quinn..." i whisper, my heart breaking as i see the state of my best friend. "what's happening to us..." my voice cracks, a tear slipping down my cheek.

his head shakes and his hand slowly raises, carefully wiping away the stray tear. "please don't cry..." he whispers back, "i'm sorry, this is all my fault."

"but it's not, quinn." i say, placing my hand on top of his as it lingers on my cheek. "i should've seen. i should've known how you felt. we were together everyday, rarely apart, and i never noticed...i feel terrible."

he looks into my eyes and i stare right back. it's like we're both searching for something. his eyes filled with regret, and mine filled with guilt and confusion. my heart pounds even faster when i hear his next words. "i'm sorry, sweetheart."

ah, there it is. the nickname he gave me the day we met.

i can feel my lip tremble at the word, my eyes welling with tears. i just want things to go back to the way they were, but i don't think that'll ever be possible now. my chest hurts, desperately holding back tears. but he whispers once more, "it's okay to cry..." and the dam breaks, sobs racking my body as my shirt dampens from my tears.

before i can even process what's happening, i feel a strong pair of arms wrap around me, pulling me close. "listen to me, i want you to be with luke. i can see how happy you are with him, and that's all i want for you. i want everything to go back to normal, because i see how much it hurts you, and it only hurts me more. i'll get over this, i'll be okay. we'll be okay..."

i lean against him as he speaks, my tears soaking his sweatshirt. after a while, my sobs settle down, and i'm left a sniffling mess. he wipes my eyes with the bottom of his sleeves, "why don't we go to bed? yeah?" he stands, helping me up and putting my shoes back on me.

he carries me upstairs, the silence hanging over us. he walks me to luke's room, pulling me into a tight, warm hug before he opens the door for me. i step in, watching as the door shuts quietly behind me.

i look at luke's sleeping form on the bed, and smile softly. i kick off my slippers, getting into the bed with him and snuggling up beside him. he grumbles, his brows furrowing. "y/n...?" he whispers.

"i'm here, lukey..." i whisper, feeling his arms wrapped around me. we lay in silence, my mind constantly drifting back to quinn and i's conversation as luke sleeps in my arms, my fingers slowlt raking through his curls.

i don't know if i just needed a good cry, but i somehow feel a sense of peace, like everything really will be okay. maybe when i wake up in the morning and walk downstairs to eat breakfast with everyone, it'll have just been a bad dream.

[mushysquashythingamajig]

Bucktommy Fluffebruary

DAY 18: TRYING SOMETHING NEW

@bucktommyfluffebruary

"Whose idea was this again?" Tommy's eyes ran over the massive wall in front of them, with several colourful foothold.

"Come on Tommy. This is gonna be fun. Besides, it's something new." Buck tried to cheer up his boyfriend.

"I am burning that book as soon as we get home." Tommy promised himself.

"Yeah sure, if you can feel your arms when we get back." Buck chuckled.

Tommy did not sign up for this. Oh wait, he did.

"Excuse me."

"Come on, let's go."

The only appreciable thing to come out of this was to see Evan in that harness. The way those straps- Woah Kinard. Public space. Nasty thoughts, nasty thoughts.

Tommy got himself strapped in as well. Evan had started without him, his long legs giving him an unfair advantage.

"You're doing great Evan." Tommy cheered on from below, no matter how much he hated this.

"Yeah yeah. Your turn, Tommy." Evan called.

Taking a deep breath, Tommy rubbed some chalk onto his hands, and grabbing one of the holds, slowly started heaving himself up towards Evan, who just gave him a bright smile. That filled his entire body with a renewed vigor.

Although Tommy felt like he was in pretty good condition, having beaten several other firefighters of his own age, seeing how athletic Evan was really was mind boggling. It was hot, not gonna lie. By the time Tommy had made it up half the wall, he had already scaled it, and was waiting for him legs swinging.

By the time Tommy had finally made it up the wall, his arms and legs were burning plus his fingertips had gone numb. Sitting next to Evan, he shook his hands, trying to get some blood circulation back into them until Evan just rolled his eyes and grabbed his hands, massaging them.

"That was awesome. You were awesome, I mean." Buck was looking at him like he hung the moon and stars. Despite being together for this long, Evan's praise was still hard to digest, even after all this time.

"Me? You just climbed this giant wall in like a few minutes. You're like Spider-Man."

"Oh shut up you." Evan lightly nudged him. "I can't believe you know someone who owns a climbing gym." Just as Tommy waved to Jerome, his friend who he called in a favour to.

"Just like I always tell you. I got a guy."

Evan rolled his eyes before smacking Tommy playfully.

"So, what do you think about it?"

"About what?"

"The climbing. Would you be open to do it again?"

"I kind of want to say no. But if you want obviously we can come."

"Oh thank goodness. I didn't like it very much either." Evan breathed a sigh of relief. "I think I'll take your advice and burn that book now."

"Although, I did like seeing you in the harness." Tommy winked.

And the coy smile directed towards him was everything.

[she-whatshername]

I don't think you have done this yet, but honestly you're my favourite FW writer on here so I wanted to ask if you could make a sceanrio were its all the marked ones (set wherever kitchen, lounge room, someones bedroom, etc) with us/her/he/them (idk) and were all platonic no one is dating us/her/he/them (still don't know lol) and its just a hang out with all of them with some light banter, chit chats, private converstaions, funny moments, people coming in and out, etc. Something that can be chaotic but calm at them same time, and just make your heart warm since all of these people are still alive and breathing and you get to still have time to relax with them, no war, no pain, just love. (idk how to explain it) If you can do this YOU HAVE MY HEART when it comes to writting FW scenarios/headcanons (you already do though). Sorry if this is alot 😅 I haven't seen anyone do this yet

OMG, STAP! You are so sweet. I can’t even. Thank you for the very kind words. Also, thank you for being so patient while I worked this one out. I know its been in my inbox for awhile.

I like this prompt; honestly it could be a whole series. I do love a good calm moment with the marked ones theme. So, lets give it a go.

“Seriously, none of you are going to move?” You huffed while turning your foot out to the side to lightly kick at Bodhi’s boots. You would give a full on shove but you were balancing a board of shot glasses and after the first round of liquor you had earlier, the most simple of movements began to feel more complex.

“No way we’re letting you back in with those.” Garrick replied from the center of the booth, his arms crossing over his broad chest, “We said get another round from the keg, not the bottle.”

“Aww, c’mon!” You smiled, “We’re celebrating here aren’t we?”

“Celebrating what? I got dumped. You’re all supposed to help cheer me up.”

“We’re celebrating another woman spared from your obnoxious dick jokes.”

“Here Here!” Imogen cheered while pressing her shoulder against the now glaring Garrick, giving him the extra nudge to scoot in just enough to let you sit in the booth. You smiled in victory, giving a wink to Imogen, always your right hard in torturing Garrick.

You pass around the shot glasses to each one of them, one for Bodhi, Garrick, Imogen and you. You eyes moved around the crowded bar in search of the final member to your celebration crew. You spot Xaden leaned up against the wall glaring at the group across the dance floor. The group that comprised of Violet and her squad, and a eager cadet looking to flirt. Poor thing.

You turn your attention back to the group, who were all waiting for you with their hands raised slightly in the air.

“Cheers to you, Garrick.” You toast. “Our favorite stallion.”

Garrick manages to wiggle his middle finger free from the glass he was holding before downing the liquor. His brown eyes roam across the dance floor, a dimpled smile making his way on his face.

“No no. Everyone lock in.” Imogen groans, knowing full well that Garrick was definitely making eyes with someone across the room. The group all leaned in, pressing up against the tall man in an attempt to keep him in his place.

“Aww c’mon.” He groaned. “I need a rebound.”

“You came out with us and you’re leaving with us.” Bodhi reminded him, “And we’ll let you out,”

“We will not.” You argue back.

“If,” Bodhi continues raising a cheeky brow, “You help me torture Xaden for a little bit.”

Everyone shifts back, giving Garrick breathing room again. Because if there is one thing everyone could find joy in, its pissing off Xaden.

“Deal.” Garrick says. You and Bodhi soot back to let Garrick out of the booth “Get us another round, we need reinforcements.”

“Will do.”

You and Imogen head up to the bar together. Over the next hour you both watch as Garrick and Bodhi toss some jokes and more shots with Xaden, even convincing him to partake in a few rounds. It was just when the night was at its peak you see a most beautiful scene on the dance floor. Garrick and Bodhi have lost their shirts, dancing together in the crowd, Garrick at one point pulling Xaden into it, though it lasted mere seconds before he got a lovely little shove so he could get back to dancing with Violet. Yes. Violet. Xaden was inebriated enough to be dancing in public with Violet. Yes. This was the good vibes you had wanted. Everyone was happy, everything was wonderful.

“Come on.” Imogen called while looping her arm around yours, “Let’s get out there.”

“Seriously. Since when did we become apart of the dance crew?” You ask. You and Imogen had a clear bond that you both were the once’s that stood on the sidelines and had your own fun chatting in the booths while everyone else gets wild.

“I’m in a rare mood. Don’t make it weird, just come on.” You’re dragged out onto the floor only to be quickly dropped at Bodhi’s side while Imogen grabs Garrick by his belt and pulls him towards her for a dance.

“I’m not going to do that to you, just so you know.” You yell to Bodhi over the music. He laughs and reaches out a hand towards you. You grab it and find yourself in a twirl before the two of you begin your own dance. You then feel a hand tap on your shoulder, twisting your eyes light up,

“Mind if I cut in?”

“Liam!”

The whole group erupts in cheers.

“We missed you!”

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“No drinking.” Even Xaden’s in on the merriment as he plucks the beer from Liams hand before passing it to Garrick, “You’ve got class tomorrow.”

“Go dance with Violet.” Liam tosses back, which earns him a glare before Xaden latterly goes back to doing just that.

You and Liam have a few moments for light conversation before he’s dragged into a circle with Garrick and Bodhi. You figure this is time to make your escape from the dance floor before a set of arms reach for you again, pulling you back into the group for more rounds of dancing, music and laughter that carries on well into the morning hours until you all walk together, arm in arm, back home.

[nerdsnuff]

Hello!!! Id love to request a reader x bokuto x akashi :3 In a aquarium date..! Thank you!!!!! ^_^

AHHH. MY FIRST HAIKYUU REQ I DIDNT EXPECT ANY AT ALL??? THANKYOU FOR ACKNOWLEDGING I WRITE HAIKYUUU I LOVE. YOU AND YOUR POLY ANON THIS IS SO CUTE FUICUDJKFJ (OVERJOYED). taking a break from pjeg to post hq mhmm 🙂‍↕️ anyway happy valentines!

“bokuto-san, we should go home now… we’ve been here for awhile…” akaashi calls out, patting a very fascinated bokuto on his back. he turns his head towards his raven haired boyfriend with a pout, hair drooping.

“aww but… but… look at this fish! it seems to really like me! it keeps following me whenever i move around… you’ve noticed that, right babe?” bokuto turns to face you now, and akaashi spares his own glance. you look up at the fish behind bokuto, a heniochus (based on what you remember reading while walking around the aquarium).

it’s cute how much it looks like bokuto, black and white stripes to match his hair and a tint of yellow on its fins to match his big eyes. it’s triangular shaped, reminds you of your boyfriends spiked up hair. it’s a small fish in a big tall tank, probably with a hundred more other fishes, yet somehow this whole time it never followed it’s friends and only gave it’s attention to bokto.

“y’know… i think the fish thinks bokuto is like a bigger version of itself or something” you say, stepping closer to bokuto. akaashi raises an eyebrow from behind you before stepping closer himself, a ‘huh?’ escaping his mouth. “do you see the similarities?” you ask.

“hey… you’re right, it does look like me!” bokuto cheers, laughing. “no wonder it likes me so much, isn’t that right little guy?” he taps his fingers on the glass directly in front of the fish. it doesn’t react much, probably cause this isn’t some movie.

“ah, it’s the colors huh?” akaashi speaks up. you nod, a soft smile on your face.

“yeah, that’s exactly it” you respond. now that both you and akaashi noticed it, it’s hard not to feel some sort of cuteness aggression as bokuto continues to baby talks the fish that probably doesn’t hear him behind the thick glass.

“still though, akaashi does have a point. it’s getting late and we’ve been here all day! i’m getting bored… and aren’t you hungry?” you chime up again, holding onto bokuto’s shoulder. he turns to look at you, a pondering look on his face.

“huh, i guess i got so distracted i didn’t even think about eating…”

suddenly, his stomach grumbles just in time.

“oh. okay well, there’s that…” he laughs. you can’t help but join in, which infects akaashi.

“you heard him. well, moreso his stomach. we’ve had a long day and our energies are getting low. here, take a picture with the fish, bokuto-san. that way you’ll remember it. and who knows, we can come back here and meet it again” akaashi spoke, getting his phone camera ready.

bokuto poses with the fish, who hasn’t changed it’s position but is very much alive. it’s fins sway in the water, as bokuto reaches up to make a peace sign.

“okay, got it. can we go now?” akaashi says nicely, showing bokuto the picture as he agrees.

“ha, hey! i sure do look handsome, don’t you think babe?” he flashes a bright smile to you, and you smile back.

“always, ko” you giggle.

he says bye to the fish one last time, then the three of you finally decide to leave the place for good. on the way to the exit, you pass by the merchandise shop. there are many things sold there, from keychains to shirts, even some hats. but despite all the crazy kooky accessories, one in particular caught bokuto’s eye. his eyes sparkle upon catching glimpse of it.

“whoa— hey wait i wanna buy something” he says quickly to you and akaashi, which makes you both cock your head in confusion. then you finally see what he grabs.

“ah,” akaashi lets out a soft smile. “that’s a keychain of the fish from earlier”

[jazziejax]

𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Terry Richmond x Black!OC, David Cliff x Black!OC, Jim Beckwourth x Black!OC

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - Things take a turn for the worst when the Nat Love hangs rolls into Sugar Cane Creek, just to discover that things ain’t as sweet as they seem.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - blood, shooting, screaming, cursing, flirting, references to weight, late 1800’s….women in pants, cowboys. Let me know if I missed anything!

𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - ….I don’t have to explain myself to your, this was purely self indulgent and yall don’t like RJ Cyler enough for me anyways 🙄 UNEDITED, sorry for any spelling errors and grammar mistakes!

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 10,187+

Sugar Cane Creek stood out against the dark wilderness surrounding it, its colorful buildings painted in deep blues, warm yellows, and rich reds, a stark contrast to the dust that settled over everything in sight. The infamous town thrived despite its location and always has. A hub of trade, gambling, and entertainment that attracted all kinds—some good, some bad, and some that danced on the razor’s edge between the two.

As the Nat Love Gang rode in, the streets had quieted for the night, save for a few stragglers loitering outside gambling halls. The men rode in on their horses, eyed by the drunkenly swaying few under the glow of lantern lights and the rising moon. Watchful eyes followed the gang as they passed, some curious, some wary, and the seldom flirtatious wave from young girls eyeing the slick crusaders that were Jim Beckwourth and David Cliff. They weren’t the first group of dangerous men to ride through this town—and they wouldn’t be the last. But who’s to say those dangerous men ever made it out?

At first, the gang stopped at The Velvet Spur, the finest hotel in the town, its golden trim reflecting the flickering lamplights hung outside. The place was directly across from the bustling casino, a smart business move. They could practically hear as dice rolled, cards shuffled, and fortunes changed in an instant. The music was loud and thumping as the people inside cheered.

Nat led the way inside, followed closely by Jim and David while Bill and Terry kept watch outside. The old clerk behind the desk barely looked up over his specs from the newspaper he read before shaking his head.

“Ain’t got no rooms left,” He grumbled.

The three men stepped at how quickly they were turned down, causing Nat to blink and then look at the two men next to him. Jim, being the playful young man that he was, took his hat off and held his hand up at Nat, telling him to wait. He then stepped forward, coming closer to the clerks desk. He leaned against the counter, flashing one of his disarming grins. “Now, see, that’s a shame, sir. We rode in all this way—”

“No rooms.” The man repeated, unmoved.

“Well, you ain’t even check the book. How are you so sure there ain’t no more rooms if you ain’t even checked the book?” Jim asked, dropping the nice boy act as he gestured to the resident book that sat next to the man, closed. The older man sighed, finally looking up from his reading and at the young man. “I think I would know if the rooms were full or not, young buck. I work here.”

“Yeah, but you are lookin’ a lil, not so young. You could be mistaken—.” Jim continued before being cut off by Nat.

“That’s alright.” He said, cutting the boy off before he could make their situation worse, watching as the old man’s face turned sour at Jim’s words. “Thank you, sir.” He said, offering the clerk a forced polite smile.

David sighed, adjusting his hat on his head. “Guess that means we’re sleeping under the stars again.” He said with a shake of his head. Jim placed his hat back on his head, giving the old man a nasty once over with his signature cinnamon stick in his mouth, before trying around to face his people. Just as they turned to leave, a young worker was rushing from the back, shrugging on his coat. “I could help ya.” He said, catching their attention.” Overhearing their predicament. The men all turned to face him, the young man coming forward as he adjusted his coat.

“They got rooms at The Sweet Tooth.” He said, hitching his thumb toward the door. “It’s a saloon, but they keep a few beds upstairs. In the rooms. Real good insulation too can barely hear a thang downstairs.” He said with a grin.

It was silent for a moment, the three outlaws eyeing the strangely eager young man. The old clerk just looked between them, wanting nothing more than for the strangers and his off-the-clock coworker to leave so he like read in peace. Jim then looked back at Nat, who eyed him before he gave a single nod.

“Lead the way, then,” Nat said, the trio watching as he walked ahead of them to see the other two men waiting outside next to their horses. “I’m Clarance, by the way.” He told them, giving a polite nod to the men who eyed him by the horses, untrusting. None of them said anything in response to his introduction, simply following him across the dirt path to the saloon, the moon casting a pale glow over the bustling town.

Laughter and music spilled from the establishment, mixing with the occasional distant crack of a pistol—warnings, celebrations, or something in between.

The Sweet Tooth stood at the heart of it all of the town, smack in the middle on the right side. Its name glowed in golden letters above the entrance, the flickering lanterns giving it a warm, inviting haze. It was alive with music and laughter, a stark contrast to the quiet outside. The smell of whiskey, tobacco, and the faint scent of something sweet hung in the air, mixing with the heat of too many bodies packed into one space. The place was packed, as expected, the heavy scent of whiskey and perfume wafting through the open doors. It wasn’t the downright fanciest establishment in town, but it had its charm—polished wood, golden trim, and deep red curtains that framed a small stage where a woman in a fitted blue dress crooned a slow melody.

The young worker turned to face the gang, standing before the saloon doors with an eager nod. “Go on in. Cotton’s got rooms for folks like y’all.”

“Folks like us?” Terry asked, his light-colored eyes striking as he raised a brow, stepping past him.

Clearance grinned. “Roughriders. Outlaws. Gunmen. All kinds.” He shrugged. “She don't much care, long as you got the coin and ain’t too much trouble.”

Nat glanced at David and Jim before nodding for them to enter. They barely made it past the entrance before they were flanked by two burly men and a woman in between them. “Well, well, don’t reckon I’ve seen y’all ‘round here before. Stayin’ or goin’?” She asked, her southern twang filled with nothing but sugar as she looked between them with her big brown eyes. Her smile as inviting as the warm glow of the lanterns inside. Jim and David stepped forward a little, eyes set on the woman while the other men admired from behind. They almost got shoved back by the men at her side, who they eyed threateningly before looking back at the beautiful woman. “We’ll be staying’ for the night. Though I’d rather stay whenever you are.” Jim flirted, not hiding the way he checked the woman out.

“And what might your name be?” David smirked.

The woman just grinned at them, becoming even more beautiful in the men’s eyes. “The names’ Suga. Come on in.” She said, nodding at them to enter before walking away. The group of five men tried to make their way in, before being stopped by the large men again. Suga rushed back, a smile on her face as one of the men grabbed a big chest. “Sorry, forgot to say weapons go the case.” She said. “Not taking them or nothin’, they’ll be up in your room for you to grab after you pay. Just don’t want no trouble.” She explained before looking the closest one, who happened to be Jim, up and down, a certain glint in her eye. A glint Jim caught with a smirk. She then glanced at the rest of the group of handsome men. “And you gentlemen look like trouble.” She said before walking away again. “And I trust you’ll put them all away.”

The men put all of their weapons in the case, watching as the large man closed it before walking away with the case. Jim was the first in motion, following behind where he saw Suga go, the girl leading the men over to a table near the bar.

“Now I know you fine gentlemen are probably tired from your long way here but I gots to find my sister Cotton in order to get you your rooms.” She explained, standing before them as they all situated themselves into chairs. “Settle in for a bit, enjoy the atmosphere, get a few drinks and I’ll be right back, ‘alright?” She said, offering them a sweet smile before turning on her heel. Her long curls whipped behind her. She didn’t wait for a response from them before her attention was on the bar. “Honey, drinks at table 3! And where the hell is Cotton?!” The girl yelled, not even stopping to gain any form of response from the woman behind the bar. Said woman, Honey, simply stopped wiping the bar countertop and watched Suga disappear into the back before then looking over at table three, where the group of men sat.

She let out a small sigh before grabbing a small notepad and the pencil from behind her head, moving from behind the bar through the small door and over to the table only a few feet away. “What can I help you gentlemen to?” She asked them, her tone a little uninterested as she chewed on the end of a toothpick. She was a stunning woman as well, resembling Suga just a bit. Her skin was lighter, her grin was large, her eyes naturally low and her face was sort of long.

The gang took in Honey’s cool, effortless demeanor as she stood before them, pencil tapping against her notepad. She was beautiful, no doubt, but unlike Suga’s flirtatious charm, Honey carried herself with a calmer demeanor, like a woman who had the patience of a monk. Since she was a bartender, having to constantly deal with drunk men and bar fights, probably.

Jim, never one to pass up an opportunity to lay on the charm, leaned forward with a smirk, resting his forearm on the table. “Well now, Honey, I’d say we’ll take whatever you recommend.”

Honey’s expression didn’t change drastically, the woman simply bling at him. But the corner of her mouth twitched like she was holding back a laugh while her eyes squinted a little as she looked down at the attractive man. “Whiskey, gin, or bourbon?” She questioned with a quirk of her brow, chewing her toothpick.

David chuckled under his breath, exchanging a glance with Jim before turning back to the woman. “Whiskey. And whatever you like.” He grinned, taking his hat off and placing it on the table.

Honey raised a brow at him, then scribbled down the order. “I like Vodka. Some you ain’t ever had.” She turned on her heel without another word, leaving the men to watch her go, amusement dancing in their eyes as she swayed away.

Terry leaned back in his chair, folding his arms as he glanced around the room. “Place got some charm, I’ll give it that.” He stated, his eyes alert and ears open as he took in the vibrant place. His eyes kept going back to the stage, where the live band played, women dancing seductively while getting whistled and catcalled.

Bill, who had been quietly observing, gave a slow nod. “Ain’t too often you see a place like this run by women.”

Nat hummed in agreement, eyes scanning the room. “Means they’re either real good at what they do… or real dangerous.”

The saloon fell into a hushed lull the moment they heard the sound of thumping. The men all looked around in confusion and on edge before their eyes drifted to the stage, watching as a woman flanked by two other women walked onto the stage.

A rounder woman stood at the center of the small stage, her brown skin glowing under the dim lantern lights. Her curls were pinned up with only a few strands loose, framing her face. She was dressed in a fitted, off-the-shoulder gown, the color a deep blue and she swayed as she sang, her voice filling the saloon with raw emotion.

“Break them chains and shackles,

Ain’t no man gon’ hold me down…”

The crowd was captivated, hanging onto every note. Some clapped along, others lifted their glasses in admiration, and a few swayed, lost in the song’s spell.

The rhythmic thumping continued, echoing through the saloon like a heartbeat. It wasn’t just the sound of boots against wood—it was deliberate, steady, almost ceremonial. The two women flanking the singer clapped their hands in time, their movements graceful yet firm, adding to the weight of the moment.

“Storm may come, but I won’t tremble,

Gonna walk on free somehow…”

The entire saloon seemed to be under her spell. Even the most hardened outlaws and whiskey-soaked gamblers paused their games, their attention drawn to the woman commanding the room with nothing but her voice.

“Go on, Fluffy!” Someone called from the crowd, a man tapping his boot against the wooden floor in rhythm with her voice.

The men couldn’t deny the effect of her heavenly voice, captivating their attention as well, moving spirits they each thought they lost long ago. Nat’s fingers drummed lightly against the table, his expression unreadable. While David, Jim, and even Bill and Terry leaned forward in interest, watching the curvy woman. Drawn in by both the music and the presence of the women on stage.

David watched, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. “Now that is a voice.” He murmured, his admiration clear as he looked the woman up and down, her size and closet making her chest pop in a whole new way.

Terry nodded in agreement, eyes locked on, as the crowd called her, Fluffy. “Yeah… and a whole lot more.” He added, ignoring the way his companions all eyed him at his out-of-character statement.

Fluffy’s voice soared into the final verse, and for a moment, the entire saloon seemed to hold its breath. Even those deep in their drinks or their poker games turned to watch her, drawn in by the depth of her voice, the weight of her song. As she finished, the room erupted into cheers and applause. Fluffy beamed, taking a small bow before stepping back from the mic. The band behind her kept playing, transitioning into a livelier tune, but all eyes were still on her as she made her way down from the stage.

Honey eyed them all as she made her way back over with their drinks on a tray, following their eyes to her sister who mingled with the band. Still chewing on her toothpick, she smirked at the obvious intrigue they all showed. “Yeah, Fluffy tends to have that effect on people.” She said, catching all of their attention. “But careful now. She might sing sweet, but she’s got more bite than bark. Girls’ mouth is foul.” She told them as she sat the drinks at the table.

“I can handle that.” Jim scoffed, causing the woman to raise a brow at the back of his head since none of the women took their eyes off Fluffy. Well, not Nat and Bill, who eyed the woman giving them drinks. “Okay, hotshot. Go for it.” She scoffed at him, amusement clear in the small grin she held. And Jim, ever the opportunist, wasted no time in standing when Fluffy made her way over to the bar. “That was real nice.” He called out, his signature smirk in place once he caught her attention. “Real nice.”

Fluffy’s eyes landed on him, slowing down her trek only slightly as she made her way to the bar, and for a moment, her expression was unreadable. Then, slowly, her smirk matched his. “That right?” She called back, tilting her head at him.

“Sure is.” Jim drawled, tipping his hat. “Got a voice that could make a man rethink all his sins.”

Fluffy let out a soft chuckle, grabbing the closest drink in sight, that she was lucky to be the water Homey sat out prior, and then backed away from the counter with effortless grace. “And you look like a man with plenty of ‘em.” She told him, placing her hands on her hips.

David nearly choked on his drink, while Terry and Billie tried to hide their amusement by holding their heads down. Even Nat cracked a small smile.

Jim placed a hand over his chest, feigning offense. “Now that ain’t fair. That ain’t fair at all. You don’t even know me yet.” He said, a fake pout on his lips, his cinnamon stick still sticking out his plump lips.

Fluffy, now standing just a few feet away, raised a brow. “Yet? How ‘bout not at all, scrub.” She said, then turning on her heel and walking away from him. David and Terry choked on their laughs while Jim gaped at the woman.

Honey, who had made her way over to the bar as they talked, was now standing behind the bar. She let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “What’d I tell ya?” She said before letting out a small laugh and going back to fix more drinks.

Suga then came back from the back and looked a tad agitated with her hands on her hips. “Can’t find Cotton’s behind nowhere. That girl is never in the spot you leave her in.” She grumbled to Honey she came a stole at the bar. The bartender just cleaned cups, looking at her sister with a call face.

“What’d you need Cotton for?” She asked.

“I needed her to check these men in for a room tonight. She’s the one who always does it.” Suga stated.

“And why can’t you do it?” Honey asked, her tone annoyingly calm for the younger girl's liking, causing Suag to squint her eyes at the woman. “Cause I ain’t done it before.” She said firmly.

“Why don’t you just try?”

“Why don’t you just try, huh? Since it’s oh, so, damn easy. It ain’t that simple, Heidi.” Suga spat, slamming her hands down on the counter a tad. That caused Honey to arch a brow at her, eyes turning stern. “Watch your tone, youngin’. Before I douse you in alcohol and throw you in the fire pit.” She said, pointing a finger at the girl. Suga just groaned, bringing out her youngest sister's attitude with the second oldest. She looked at her sister, unbeknownst, or not caring, to the group of men who subtly listened in now and then to their conversation.

“Can you just come help me? Just this once?” She begged. Honey sighed, setting down the cup she had been cleaning and shaking her head as she slapped the rag onto the counter. “Lord, you’re helpless.”

Suga huffed. “I ain’t helpless, I just ain’t done it before!”

Honey just rolled her eyes. “Alright, fine. But you best pay attention, ‘cause I ain’t gon’ be doin’ this for you every time. This caused Suga to beam, grabbing Honey’s wrist and pulling her from behind the bar. The older sister shook her head but let her drag her along, her boots clicking against the worn wooden floors as they made their way toward the check-in area. Honey grabbed the book from the desk before moving back over to the group of men. “Follow me, get y'all settled in.” She said, offering them a polite smile as she nodded her head elsewhere. “Y’all got horses?” Honey asked, looking back at them.

Nat nodded.

She motioned for them to follow. “Come on, then. Stables are out back.”

The night had settled into a steady hum—distant music from the saloon, laughter from the streets, the occasional hoot of an owl. They walked the horses from across the road to the back of the saloon, the stables a good distance from the bar. The Sweet Tooth’s lanterns cast a golden glow over the dirt road as they made their way to the back, where the modest stable stood. The scent of hay and leather mixed with the lingering perfume of the saloon. The horses snorted softly as the men led them into the stables, their hooves thudding against the wooden floor.

Honey moved with practiced ease, unlatching the stable doors and gesturing for them to bring the horses in. “Y’all take that side.” She instructed, pulling her sleeves up. “Ain’t got no stable boys this late, so if you want ‘em fed and brushed, best get to it.” She stated, waiting for the men to lead their horses into the extra rooms available for them.

The men stood there for a moment, only sharing a glance before Honey crossed her arms, watching them with an amused tilt of her head. “Y’all ever put up your own horses before, or you just let the stable boys do it for ya?” She mused, a smirk playing on her lips.

Jim, always the first to have something to say, scoffed as he led his horse inside. “Course we know how to put up our own damn horses. Just ain’t used to bein’ told to do it by a lady.” He stated, shrugging as if it was some simple thought as he looked over at her, still chewing on that same stick of cinnamon. The men, one by one, eased their trusted animals into the available resting spot for the night.

Honey let out a short laugh. “Well, ain’t that a shame? Guess y’all better get used to it ‘round here.” She said, causing Suga to grin as she watched the men put the animals away. David chuckled under his breath, watching as Jim rolled his eyes but got to work. Nat, ever the quiet observer, led his own horse inside without a word, his sharp eyes noting the ease with which Honey moved.

“You run this place, then?” He spoke up and asked, his voice low and even but ever curious.

Honey glanced over at him as she softly kicked a bale of hay next to one of the stalls, mentally reminding herself to move it if Cotton didn’t. “Nah. That’s Cotton’s job. But between me and Suga, we do our best to make sure it don’t fall apart.”

Terry, brushed down his horse with steady strokes from a spare brush he picked up, looking over at her with a small smirk. “And where exactly is this Cotton?”

Honey sighed, pushing the stray curls from her halo braid from her face. “That’s the million-dollar question, ain’t it?” She grinned and then looked toward the saloon as if expecting Cotton to materialize. “Girl’s like a ghost when she wanna be.”

Before she could be questioned further, Jim spoke up, grinning loudly in the dead of night within the hollow stable. “Don’t think I ever had to work for a bed before.” Jim sighed, shaking his head as he ran a hand down his horse’s neck.

Honey grinned, catching his words as she leaned against one of the stable doors. “Ain’t too used to takin’ orders from women either. Well, welcome to Sugar Cane Creek.” She said.

They were just finishing up when the sharp clang of metal rang out, followed by the scrape of buckets rolling across the dirt. “Who’s supposed to be watchin’ the bar and servin’ drinks if you two are back here?” Instinct kicked in—the men straightened, hands twitching toward holsters that weren’t there. Suga and Honey quickly turned from where they stood, Suga opened one of the stable doors to cover her vulnerable sun was shots were fired while Honey gripped the gun hidden in the back of her dress, her tucked shirt riding up.

A figure stood at the entrance to the stable, framed by the lantern light and the shadows of the night. It was a woman, dressed in fitted brown trousers, a crisp white blouse, and a matching leather vest. A hat sat atop her head, casting a slight shadow over her striking features. Her stance was confident, hands were perched on her hips, her sharp eyes scanning the scene. She stepped further into the stables, showing how a single brow arched high as she looked between Suga and Honey expectantly. The lantern light cast a golden glow over her smooth brown skin, and though her stance was firm, there was a hint of amusement in her sharp gaze.

Suga’s slight pains turned into familiarity, a bright smile appearing on her typically bubbly face. “Well, look who finally decided to show up.

“Yeah, you know this place don’t run well without you, Cotton.” Honey teased.

The woman scoffed, crossing her arms. “Don’t play with me, Suga and Honey. You know damn well I was tendin’ to the ranch at Mama’s. Now who’s keepin’ the Sweet Tooth runnin’ while y’all out here flirtin’ and playing table hands?”Her voice was smooth yet firm, carrying over the stableyard like a whip crack. There was something different about her compared to her sisters—less sugar, more steel.

Honey sighed. “Ain’t nobody playin’.” She said.

“And ain’t nobody flirtin’,” Suga added, glancing over at the men. “We’re just settlin’ these gentlemen in.”

At the mention of gentlemen, the woman’s gaze flicked toward the group, scanning them with a quick, practiced sweep. And then let out a dry chuckle, shifting her weight onto one hip. “Oh, really? ‘Cause from what I see, you got a whole mess of men out here playin’ stable boy while the saloon runs damn near itself.”

Jim, never one to miss an opportunity, stepped forward with an easy grin. “Now, I wouldn’t say we’re playin’, miss. Just followin’ orders.” His voice was all honeyed charm, his grin even more so.

The woman arched a brow, unimpressed. “That right?” She turned her gaze to Honey, who merely shrugged. “They needed a place to sleep. No stable boys this late. Seemed only fair they work for it.”

David stepped forward, sensing this was the infamous name they’d been hearing all night. “That you, Miss Cotton?” He asked curiously, eyeing the woman up and down from the stable she stood directly next to, causing her to turn her head and look him up and down. She then met his gaze without hesitation. “Depends. Who’s askin’?” She questioned, quirking a brow at him

Jim, never one to pass up a chance to charm, took a step forward with his best smile. “Jim Beckwourth, at your service.” He gave a small bow as he took his hat off his head. “And might I just say, Miss Cotton, you wear them trousers better than any man I’ve ever seen.”

Cotton only let pout a faux amused hum as she tilted her head at him. “I’m sure you say that to every woman in pants, Mr.Beckworth.”

“I don’t,” Jim replied smoothly. “Only the ones that take my breath away.”

Suga snorted behind her hand while Honey rolled her eyes. “Good Lord.” She scoffed. Cotton, however, remained unimpressed, though there was the slightest twitch at the corner of her eyes as she sized the man up. She then stepped closer, looking Jim up and down with a slow, deliberate gaze before nodding once.

“Hm. That so?” She drawled, before reaching out and tapping the brim of his hat with a single finger. “Well, Mr. Beckwourth, I reckon you best hold onto that breath of yours. You’re gonna need it if you plan on keepin’ up ‘round here.”

Jim’s grin widened. “That a challenge?”

“It’s a fact,” Cotton stated firmly with a smirk. She then hummed a small tune, tapping a finger against her arm as she glanced around at the scene—half-groomed horses, saddles still slung over posts, and a handful of outlaws looking more amused than weary. “Hmph. Well, I’ll take it from here, dear sisters.” She said, walking over to her sinking and taking the reservation book from Honey’s hands. “Thank you, Heidi, Susanna.” She said, a fake smile on her face as she looked between them while the men’s eyes widened some at the revelation of them all being related.

Honey rolled her eyes at the use of her full name. “Don’t start, Cotton.”

Cotton, now properly named, let out a scoff as she shook her head. “Already did.” Then, with a nod toward the men, she tipped her hat. “Let’s go get you brothas settled in properly, shall we?” She said, nodding over to the saloon before she turned on her heel, leading the way back inside and expecting them to follow.

Suga let out a low whistle as the group watched the woman walk away, staying to help the men finish putting the animals up before following after Cotton. “She always knew how to make an entrance.” She said, placing her hands on her hips as her dress swayed in the nightly breeze, more so speaking to her sister next to her, but Jim chimed in from behind the pair as the group followed the woman back in.

“Can’t say I mind it all too much.” He said his grin still in place. David, who had been quietly observing the exchange, let out a small chuckle. “Think we know why she’s the one actually runnin’ things ‘round here.”

Honey scoffed at them, flashing a quick look behind her, but she didn’t deny it. “Y’all done gawkin’ or you need a few more minutes?” She asked, speaking to the main paper that seemed to be on one all night.

Jim continued to smirk, twisting the flavorful fired plant in his mouth. “Guess that depends. You got more sisters hidin’ ‘round here?” He asked, quirking a brow at her. Honey simply narrowed her eyes at him before turning away from them again. “Stable’s done for now. Y’all can come inside if you know how to behave.” She said, eyeing the younger pair of men behind her before opening the doors back into the establishment. Suga snorted, nudging her sister on her way in as they all followed her back into the saloon. “That’s a big if.”

The women led them over to the bar, where Cotton was behind the counter, second a few drinks. She looked up at the movement in her peripheral, catching the group enter. She slid a drink down the counter to a waiting man before setting the dish rag down and then grabbing the reservations book, walking from behind the counter. 

She moved with an air of authority, her hat now gone to show her long white patch of hair at the front of her hair. It was divided into two sections down the middle and going down either side of her face into the two long braids she had going down her back. The unique silver color for a woman her age was setting her apart as much as the tailored vest and trousers she wore instead of a dress. She had a gun strapped to her hip, and two holstered to her back, but it wasn’t just for show—every man in that saloon could see it.

She stopped just a few steps from the table, one hand resting on her hip as she took them all in, her dark eyes sharp and assessing. “How many rooms yall need?”

“Five,” Nat answered. “Just for the night.”

Cotton clicked her tongue, glancing toward the book she held before looking back up at them. “Ain’t got five rooms, but I got three. Two of y’all will have to share.” She stated, her tone leaving no room for disagreement.

Jim and David immediately turned to look at each other, their expressions mirroring the same silent conversation—not it.

“I’ll bunk with Bill,” Terry offered softly, to which Bill simply nodded. Cotton gave a satisfied nod. “Payment’s due upfront. No exceptions. 25 cents a night. She stated. Nat pulled a small pouch from his coat, dropping it onto the table. Cotton took it without hesitation, weighing it in her hand before tucking it away. “Rooms are upstairs. Suga’ll show you to ‘em.” She said. She stared at them for a moment, her flickering over all of them before offering her first smile since she’d met them.

“Enjoy your stay in Sugar Cane Creek, boys.” She smiled. “And just watch yourself with the women in this here establishment. Don’t want to start no trouble where there don’t need to be nun’.” She stated, her smile turning tense before disappearing right before their eyes. “And I don’t quite have the patience for that.” She sneered.

Jim placed a hand over his heart, feigning innocence. “Trouble? Us? Never.” He said, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair. Cotton, however, wasn’t amused. She just blinked at them. “Y’all keep yourselves in line.” She murmured before turning on her heel to face the two women behind her.

“And you doves can get back to work. This ain’t no social hour.” She said.

Suga rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, ma’am.” She said as she watched her oldest sister walk away, leaving her to get the men settled in.

“Now that’s a woman,” Jim stated firmly. “I think I’m in love.” He said, watching Cotton walk away from them. David leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose, his eyes on the woman as well. “I like this place.”

Terry simply sighed. “You think that every time you meet a woman with a sharp tongue and a pretty face.”

Jim just chuckled, clearly unbothered. “Yeah, but this time, I really mean it.”Nat just chuckled, shaking his head. It was going to be an interesting night.

They all stood from their seats, downing the last of their drinks and following the young woman up the stairs. She led the men up across the room, the beginning of the steps near the stage. The stairs were large and sort of grand for just a saloon, but The Sweet Tooth was different to begin with, starting out with how big it was.

The wood did creak under their weight, however, Suga’s purple dress swaying with each step as she jingled the keys in her hand, drawing the attention of the group of men behind her, almost putting them in a trance.

“Alright, gentlemen, listen up.” She called over her shoulder as they reached the second floor. The hall was sort of like a balcony, with large pillars holding most of the upstairs view from the people down below, but the view from up top gave them a wide angle of the casino. She stopped in the dimly lit hallway, motioning toward the doors ahead.

“This hall here holds rooms three, four, and five.” She handed a key to Nat, another to Bill, and the last to Jim, who twirled it between his fingers with an easy grin. The small metal objects each had a plated tag hanging off of it, showcasing the room number that was also welded on the door. “Y’all are payin’ twenty-five cents a night, no exceptions. If you plan on stayin’ longer, I suggest you pay upfront, ‘cause once the room’s claimed, it’s claimed.” She began before along again, leading them closer to their abodes for the night.

She gestured toward the first door on the left, room three. “Room three’s got two beds, room four’s got two as well, and room five’s got one. If y’all want coffee and breakfast in the mornin’, you’ll either have to take a walk over to The Velvet Spur across the road, they serve food for a price. Or you can head over to Poundcake’s. That’s the diner ‘bout five doors down from here.” She folded her arms, turning around and glancing between them. “Any questions?” She asked sweetly.

David nodded toward the far end of the hall. “What about baths?”

Suga grinned. “You lookin’ to soak or just rinse off?”

David exhaled through his nose, amused. “Preferably soak.” He said, a small hitch in his brow as he looked at the woman.

“Then you’ll have to take yourself down to the bathhouse. Across the way, ‘bout a block down. They got heated water if you’re willin’ to pay extra. But if all you need is a quick rinse, we got a pump out back. Cold as hell, but it’ll do the trick.“

Jim scoffed. “Cold water don’t suit me.” He said, looking the woman up and down. Suga just fluttered her lashes at him as she blinked. “Well, lucky for you, Mr. Beckwourth, I don’t recall askin’.” Suga flashed a playful grin before nodding toward the doors. “Now, go on. Y’all smell like road dust and bad decisions.” She sighed wistfully before moving past them, her sweet scent trailing behind as she disappeared from their vicinity. Jim watched the woman walk away, a mischievous glint in his eye and a smirk on his lips.

The men chuckled as they made their way into their respective rooms. The accommodations were simple but clean—wooden bed frames with thick quilts, a small writing desk, a half bath, and a washbasin in the corner. Though room five, the one David got lucky choosing, had a bath and tub available for him to use. Looks like he landed himself in the couples' suite.

They didn’t waste much time settling in, only taking a moment to stash their bags and pull their weapons from the box those men carried in earlier. They barely had a moment to breathe before a sharp bang rang out from downstairs, the sound of something slamming, followed by the unmistakable sound of a bell being rung inside the saloon.

All five men froze, their hands instinctively going toward their guns. They all rushed out of their rooms, looking over the balcony and into the busy bottom floor, which now stopped what they were doing, looking around and waiting for the bell to stop ringing.

The music halting and the chatter dying made them able to hear the sound of rapid footsteps pounding against the floorboards outside. The door burst open, and a young boy came bursting through the saloon doors, huffing and puffing with his hat in his hands. “Crimson Hoods.”He warned. “Coming in fast.”

The air in the saloon shifted. Voices hushed even more. Everything was still for a moment, among them able to hear the distant sound of hives hitting the ground. This caused Cotton to sigh, coming from behind the bar. “You know the drill. Get to it.” She stated firmly. Her voice wasn’t raised, but it carried through the room like a command, settling into every ear and spine.

And that was all it took.

Chairs scraped against the floor as men pushed back from their tables, downing the last swigs of their drinks before moving swiftly to their places. Guests were led to the back while the workers at the gambling tables grabbed the weapons attached to their person and from under chairs and tables. Some headed for the windows, peeking through the curtains, while others took up positions near other entrances. The saloon moved like a well-oiled machine, each person knowing their role without hesitation. The gamblers armed themselves swiftly, drawing weapons from hidden holsters, under tables, and from inside waistbands.

The piano player shut the lid over the keys and stepped aside, revealing a shotgun tucked neatly beneath the bench. One of the assistant bartenders slipped a pistol from under the counter, checking the chamber before setting it within reach.

Women, too, moved with purpose. A few waitresses strolled toward the back halls, guiding guests and working girls away from the main floor, while others stationed themselves behind furniture, weapons discreetly in hand, from knives to revolvers. The Sweet sisters were no exception—Honey pulled a sawed rifle from behind the bar, Fluffy nicked up her dress and unstrapped the large knife from her thigh, and Suga grabbed the two pistols from Cotton's back holsters as she passed, spinning the chamber before snapping it shut. And Cotton sat the shit fun she has by the door, another two pistols at her for a quick draw.

Upstairs, the men exchanged looks. It was clear this wasn’t the first time Sugar Cane Creek had braced itself for a fight. And it seemed that they had led trouble right to their doorstep.

“Well,” Bill muttered, rolling his shoulders. “Guess unwindin’ will have to wait. He sighed before beginning to walk off towards the stairs. Nat was already moving with him, his expression grim. “Let’s go.” He grumbled. Without hesitation, the rest of the gang followed, boots thudding against the worn wooden floors as they made their way downstairs. “This is one hell of a welcome,” Bill muttered, pressing his lips into an impressed smirk, the thrill of it all thudding in his heart.

The Sweet sisters stood at the door, Cotton giving orders to the men that lingered while Honey and Suga flanked each side of the swinging entrance. “Ajei, Dezba, I want you to upstairs in my office by the window, don’t be seen and shoot on my whistle.” She commanded the two Native dealers, dressed in crisp white shirts, black vests, and slacks, to give her a curt nod before moving. “Let Charles and Sanford know you’re there.” She said, referring to snipers stationed on her roof.

She then turned to the large men who stopped them on their way in. “Gordo, Rito, I want you two to walk out with me when they touch down.” She stated as she moved over to the door, the butt of her shotgun dragging against the ground. And then she stood there, fingers wrapped around her gun. Her sisters stood on either side of the door while Gordo and Rito stationed themselves behind her.

A thick silence then fell over the saloon, making the sound of thudding hooves loud as they got closer and closer. The new group of men all looked at one another, watching as the situation seemed to be going a bit smoothly without them. But they needed to step in. Those hoods were there for them, probably being trailed far back, and led them right into Sugar Cane Creek.

They heard the hooves approaching, the thunderous sound echoing within the quiet bar before they began to come to a halt. The silence in the saloon was thick enough to choke on, broken only by the slow, steady thudding of hooves against packed dirt. The Crimson Hoods were close now. Too close.

Nat and his gang exchanged looks, understanding passing between them without words. This situation was running smoothly without their interference—for now. But they knew damn well that those men weren’t here for the Sweet family. No, they had to have been trailed. Led those rough necks right into Sugar Cane Creek. Nat exhaled sharply through his nose, glancing at his men before giving a firm nod. Time to move.

Once their hooves finally decided to decent slowly, Cortton nodded her head at the drop that surrounded her. Honey and Suga tightened their grip on their weapons while Gordo and Rito pushed the doors open, moving to step outside before their boss did. The air was tight with tension, thick and heavy like the humidity before a storm. There was a long moment of silence before Cotton decided to make her move. She stepped out onto the creaking porch, the only sound slicing through the silence was the slow, deliberate thump of Cotton’s rifle against wooden boards as she strode forward, her boots clicking against the dusty and dried porch.

There they were. The Crimson Hoods, sat still on their horses, a dozen shadowy figures cloaked in deep red. The leader at the front made a show of dismounting once the woman walked out, his movements unhurried, almost lazy. A few of the gang members staggered, trying to follow the man. The supposed ring leader yanked the sack off his head, revealing a smirk stretched across sharp features, the silver gleam of his gills catching in the dim lantern light.

Red Benny.

His name carried weight across parts of the West, whispered in places where men feared to speak too loud. A man who lived for the thrill of conquest, for the chaos his gang carved into the land like a hot knife through butter. For the riches, he’d blow in the same hour of obtaining them.

Cotton squared her shoulders, rifle still in hand but not yet raised. She knew better than to move first.

“Evenin’, Miss Sweet.” Benny drawled, his voice a slow, smooth rasp, like whiskey rolling over jagged rocks. “Ain’t this a fine night?” He asked with a sly grin. Cotton’s expression didn’t waver, her stare locked into his while her men eyed the others next to her. “Depends on who you ask.” She deadpanned as she owned the weight of her gun.

Benny chuckled, shaking his head as he took a bold step forward. The men around him stayed still, waiting for a cue. Neither did Cotton’s men, only soaking the men under her scrutinizing gaze a glance, before focusing on the masked men behind him.

“Now, now,” Benny said, spreading his hands wide as if to show how harmless he was. “No need to be so tense. We’re just passin’ through.”

Cotton’s fingers flexed over the muzzle of her rifle, jaw flexing as she stared down at the man. “Funny thing, Benny. I’ve heard that before, right before a town wound up burned to the ground.” She sighed, moving herself to lean her weight off the large gun and stand firm on her feet, eyes unmoving from his frame. “And that won’t be happening here, boy.”

Benny clicked his tongue, just as a fire lit in his eyes, something full of rage and hatred in them. “You wound me, sweetheart.”

The woman simply let out a small scoff from her place at the center of the porch, moving the rest of her gun on her shoulder. Her movements caused some of the men behind him to reach for their weapons. But Benny quickly held up his hands, signaling them to stop. Cotton simply arched a brow at the bold men behind Benny, not an ounce of fear showing on her at the potential death that almost happened. “Ain’t nobody ever been sweet on you, Benny. And I damn sure won’t be the one to start.”

His grin widened, making his annoyance and bitterness with faux amusement. “That so?” He questioned. Cotton just stared at him, quirking a brow due to the timing since that followed, wanting to see his next movie or he could move on. He let his gaze drift, wiping his nose as his eyes caught the sight of hats moving inside. His eyes landed briefly on the shadows behind the saloon’s swinging doors, where more figures lurked. Cotton’s expression remained unreadable, but the weight of her stare was heavy, unrelenting. The way Benny spoke, all slow and measured, trying to put on that boyish charm, only made her grip her rifle a little tighter.

Then, finally, his eyes flicked toward Cotton’s rifle, still at her side.

“I think you may have something of ours in that saloon of yours, that’s all.” The man said, trying to put on this innocent act while he stalled, only building up the irritation within her. Nat stood near the entrance of the saloon, not even tensing at the man’s mention of his crew, his arms folded as he watched Cotton work. He wasn’t one to intervene in another gunslinger’s standoff unless he had to, and right now? Cotton had it handled, but this was just as much as his fight. And if Benny or his boys so much as twitched the wrong way, Nat’s hand was already hovering near his holster.

Cotton tilted her head slightly. “That so?” She asked, though the infliction in her voice never chanted, bland and dry as ever.

Benny nodded, taking another slow step forward. He was near easy up the steps, making Cotton grip the rule tighter while she discreetly signaled to her sisters at the door with a flick of her finger. “Couple of fellas we was trailing a while ago, we lost ‘em. But then for works pretty quickly that they’d turned up here. You wouldn’t happen to know where they are, would you?” He questioned with a quick tilt of his head and a shrug.

Cotton gave a dry chuckle, her free hand settling on her hip. “Sugar Cane Creek ain’t in the business of harborin’ rats, Benny. If somebody’s here, it’s ‘cause they paid their dues, and that means they got my protection.” She let the words hang in the air, firm and final. David watched quietly, eyes steady on the scene unfolding outside. He hadn’t been in Cane Creek long, but he had learned fast—when Cotton spoke, people listened. She’s got control over this entire town, and she don’t even have to raise her voice. He admired that. A show of force wasn’t always necessary, but Cotton could pull the trigger just as easy as she could talk a man into his grave. And if this went south? He’d be ready.

Benny let out a deep sigh, rubbing a hand over his chin before giving her a look that was equal parts amused and frustrated. “Now, see, that’s the thing about you Sugar Creek folks. Always so hospitable.” His voice was thick with sarcasm. “But sometimes, a good host knows when it’s best to hand over the unwanted guests.” He finished, his jaw clenching near the end of his tangent in agitation.

Cotton rolled her shoulders, letting her weight shift. She glanced at Gordo and Rito beside her, simply blinking at the two men as she pretended to think what she was going to say to him. She caught sight of stragglers hiding, people peeking out of their blinds while the bold, eyed them from around corners. It seemed as if the entire town was watching, waiting, breathing in sync with her.

“I don’t take kindly to folks ridin’ up in my town, throwin’ threats at my doorstep,” Cotton said, voice dropping low. “You and your boys may not be outnumbered, Benny. But what you lack in skill and all-around intelligence, well, you see, I make up for it. Ten times over, matter a fact. In this town, and the next. And, quite frankly, any damn town I step my foot into.” She hissed. “Now…” She began, taking a few steps forward and looking down at the man below the steps, the wind blowing dust on the path he stood on. “You sure you wanna see how that plays out?” She asked with a quirk of her brow.

Ans for the first time, Benny’s smirk wavered, his facade cracking under her hard gaze. She caught just a flicker of something calculating behind his eyes, catching the small twitch in his jaw, a tell to his irritation. She knew she got to him. And he knew Cotton wasn’t bluffing. The Sweet family ran Sugar Cane Creek tight, and a fight here wouldn’t be a fair one, and it wouldn’t be one that ended.

Still, the ever egotistical man that he was, he pretended. He had a reputation to uphold.

His smirk turned into something sharper.

“So,” He murmured, voice still deceptively light, “What’s it gonna be, Miss Sweet? You gonna let us on through and take what we owe, or are we gonna have ourselves a little dance?”

Cotton let the moment as she quirked a brow at his suddenly, allowing Benny to sit in his own impatience, and stupidity for the way going to regret acting tomorrow morning.

Her eyes flicked from him to the men behind him, her eyes squinting in the blowing wind as they all stood still as statues, their hands resting near their weapons. The whole town was waiting, listening. Even the wind seemed to hush, as if afraid to stir the wrong way.

Then, slowly, deliberately, Cotton exhaled through her nose and took one more step forward, standing at the very edge of the porch. Her rifle still rested against her shoulder, but the weight of her stare alone might as well have been a bullet.

“You ain’t owed a damn thing.” She annunciated slowly, voice smooth as warm honey but hard as the steel barrel of her gun, raising a bit as she reached her peak. “Not by me, not by this town.”

Benny’s smirk tightened, but his fingers twitched at his side. He wasn’t used to being told no.

Cotton just tilted her head slightly, her tone turning mocking as she continued. “You said you lost ‘em. So tell me, Benny, how’s that my problem?” She asked, blinking at him.

Benny chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “Y’see, that’s the thing, Miss Sweet. I don’t like losin’ things. And when I do, I tend to get ‘em back—one way or another.”

Cotton’s lips barely twitched. “That a threat?”

“Ain’t a threat if it’s a promise.”

The town was holding its breath now. Cotton could practically feel her sisters at her back, feel the tension thickening in the air like a storm rolling in.

She clicked her tongue. “Well, then, let me make you a promise, Benny.” She lowered her rifle from her shoulder, resting the butt against her hip, one hand still wrapped around the barrel. “You take one step further, and I put your black ass in the dirt where you stand.” She spat.

Benny stilled.

The men behind him straightened.

Cotton didn’t move an inch.

Then, Benny exhaled through his nose, a slow, sharp breath, before he finally took a step back. He glanced once more at the saloon doors, catching nothing. Then at the eyes peering through windows, at the large men flanking Cotton. His jaw worked as he mulled it over.

But before he could make a decision, Cotton let out a slow, lilting whistle, the sound carrying in the wind.

Then—chaos.

It all happened in a blink. A loud shot rang out, and the man fell to the ground with a sharp pain shooting through his right arm. Benny screamed in anguish as the searing heat bobbled up his arm. He barely processed what he felt and what had happened before another shot tore into his other arm. But his loud exclamations of pure pain were unheard over the cries from the other men as the sniper's bullets howled they found their marks with the rest of the Crimson Hoods.

Benny fell to the ground at the pain, wailing at the top of his lungs at the hot bullets felt as if they boiled under his skin. Cotton slowly descended the steps, her cold eyes trained on the screaming man on the ground as he bled out, her boots slow and measured against the wooden steps until they hit the dirt road.

Controlled chaos ensued around them, Honey and Suga popping out from behind the doors and shooting at hoods that tried to run or pull out their weapons, gunfire cracking through the air. Nat and his gang followed—their fastest gunslingers, David and Jin, moving like shadows, their revolvers striking true. Terry and Bill picked their shots with lethal precision, their rifles sending men to the dust with every pull of the trigger. Nat himself moved like a man with nothing to lose, his pistol barking in his hand.

Cotton stood over Benny, who writhed in the dirt, clutching at his bloody arms, looking down at him as he cried out in anguish. It wasn’t long before gunfire quieted and pains turned back into silence. The last of the Crimson Hoods either lay dead or had fled into the night with injuries they wouldn’t survive. The town, once holding its breath, now released it in a tense, waiting silence.

Save for the lead man, who was now bleeding with the rest of his fallen soldiers. Cotton only looked up from the man when caught the sounds of pleading from next to her, looking over to see David pressing the barrel of his gun to the last man standing. She cast a sharp whistle to catch his attention. When he glanced at her, she shook her head. “Not him.” She said, and David didn’t argue, while she didn’t explain before looking back down at the infamous Red Benny.

“Now you know not to ever try me again.” She stated, not caring if the man heard her over his own screams, Her voice was calm, nearly bored.

She blinked at him. Then, without hesitation, she shot him in the leg. Benny emitted a loud cry.

Cotton barely blinked before turning her attention to the last remaining Crimson Hood. She walked up to him, yanking the burlap sack from his head before gripping his jaw, her fingers digging into his skin until he winced.

“You take him. Take that horse.” She nodded toward the wounded Benny and the tethered stallion nearby, most of the others either running away or dying in the line of fire of the man brawl. “And you get the hell up outta here. I see—or even hear either of your names—I’ll kill you slow.” She spat. The man frantically nodded, causing Cotton to push his face away from her hands. She watched as the man scrambled and gathered Benny and the horse as best as he could ride off, the woman not turning away until she couldn’t see them and could no longer hear Benny’s cries.

Cotton waited until they were gone before she turned, dusting her hands off onto her pants. She then took off her hat to smooth down the front pieces of her hair that came up, her silver money pieces giving her an odd sense of youth. Once straightened, she turned on her heels. “Somebody come clean this shit up!” She called out, stepping back into the saloon without so much as a glance at her family and newfound allies.

The town was still, silent in the aftermath. The only sounds left were the soft clinking of spent shells on the blood-streaked dirt and loud crickets from the forest near yonder.

Jin twirled his revolvers once before sliding them back into their holsters, looking at her walk away with something between respect and amusement. “Ain’t never seen a woman put a man down that quick and still have time to fix her hair after.” He said, admiration somewhat in his tone.

Cotton didn’t respond. She just stepped past them. The moment she crossed the threshold, the tension in her shoulders loosened—but only just. She wasn’t done yet. Inside, the saloon was eerily quiet. People had ducked behind tables, cowered near the walls, or simply frozen in place, waiting to see how the night would end. Her men unstationed themselves, putting their smoking guns down at the sight of no more danger.

Cotton closed her eyes as she rolled her neck, the weight of the night settling in, but she didn’t let it show. Gin still in hand, she walked straight to the bar, grabbed an empty glass, and poured herself a shot of whiskey with steady hands.

She threw it back in one smooth motion before slamming the glass on the counter. Then, without looking, she called out, “We got about ten minutes before more folks come snoopin’. Y’all best start cleanin’ up.” Knowing that her sisters and their new friends had followed her inside, all in a state of limbo at what just occurred.

Honey was the first to move, stepping in and surveying the damage with a nod. “I’ll get someone to strip the bodies for what they have, Gordo and Rito will move them.” She said, already heading for the door again.

Suga clicked her tongue, lazily wiping down the counter as if that would somehow erase the tension still lingering in the air. “Guess that means me and the girls are on blood duty.” She pouted a little, referring to the other waitresses at the bar.

This caused Fluffy to smack her lips, cutting her eyes at her sister. “So I’m on graveyard duty? Again?” She asked, holding her hands on her hips. “My digging clothes are dirty.” She added. Cotton, who had just thrown back another shot, slammed the glass down with a dull thunk. She turned to Fluffy, unimpressed. “Good, ‘cause they’re just gonna get filthy again. Now take four of them men and get to it.” She said, nodding her head over to the working men of the bar. None of the women even had to ask, they didn’t even have to speak, before four of them jumped into action, heading out to the stables to grab supplies to get to digging a mass grave out back.

Once the women left to do their duties for the night, Cotton took one last shot before looking around at the customers who still lingered. “Y’all ain’t gotta go home, but you gotta get the hell up outta here.” She stated, causing the non-staying customers to hurry and scurry out of the saloon, not even caring about the money they left behind for the establishment to take.

Outside, the scraping of boots against dirt and the hushed whispers of those still brave enough to linger filled the air.

Cotton looked over at the group of men who seemed to be nothing but trouble, but she knew tonight wasn’t entirely their fault. Her eyes were back to their dull and unimpressed glint, rhetorical hatred, and quiet anger she felt earlier not in sight. She looked between them before simply blinking. “Welcome to Sugar Cane Creek, this is the Sweet Tooth and I hope you enjoy your stay.” She said, offering the most subtle polite smile before making her way upstairs and down a hall on the opposite side of the saloon, disappearing for the night.

The group of unfamiliar men might’ve been watching before, admiring the beauties The Creek had to offer, but now they knew.

Sugar Cane Creek wasn’t just a town.

It was her town.

[andysyearn]

The experience was phenomenal. I miss her so much.

It was my first time ever 1. being in London and 2. seeing Patti LuPone live.

I have to thank my friend who had a spare ticket because I couldn't go otherwise since my money was tight. (Will lick the walls instead of food now) but it was SO WORTHY!!

small funfacts/observations I made during her perfomance btw!

(she was amazing, I love her. I still have post-concert mourning)

Patti got emotional right at the beginning of the perfomance. She entered the stage with "A Song For You" and you could hear the first few seconds how emotional she was. She's such a pookie. I wanna put her in my pocket.

Everyone literally stood up, cheered and clapped so many times during the first and mainly during the second part of Patti LuPone's perfomance. I loved the energy. I think I've never clapped like this for anyone. It felt like my life depended on it.

She was praising her musicians so much. She made them stand up like 4-5 times so people could applaud to them. I love her.

Also btw Patti LuPone mentioned "Beau is afraid" while being hilarious about her double hip surgery and her shoulder pain, following up with "Ready To Begin Again". LMAO.

also other things I absolutely loved about it was

1. her cracking herself up and

2. when she sang "Ladies Who Lunch" with the famous "Does anyone still wear a hat?" someone in the audience yelled. "I do." and everyone laughed so hard.

and last but not least:

We got LuPoned after the performance. It was genuinely so funny. We all were waiting until midnight by the stage door meanwhile Patti LuPone took the front door. 🤭 The whole security team told us: "She's gone." but we were delusional and stayed there. 💀

In the end me and my friends started talking with some other people there. There was even someone from my country, so we made new friends. ❤

[weloveluigi]

tbh if my entire life was over and the only thing that anyone would ever remember me by is that tens of thousands of people around the world loved me and wanted to write fanfictions about me and draw pictures of me, I mean, I wouldn't be mad

that's just me

We're all doing what we can to discuss him, to keep the discussion alive, and he and his lawyers both have said they adore they creativity that goes into how we show our support. No one just picked one thing and went with it. Singers sing songs about him. The writers write stories about him. The nail artists make nail art of him. The sculptors sculpt him. We all are doing our own thing, and some of that is simping, sure, but it's keeping alive the story of a young man who is fighting for his life. And, many of us, despite whatever form of art we're making, are going and protesting and donating to his defense fund and cheering for him.

in a worst case scenario, this is a part of the art people remember him for, and part of the support he thanked us all for. In the best case scenario he gets out of jail and asks us kindly to stop writing and/or delete that because he's uncomfortable with it and I'm sure the vast majority of people would. But as it stands he's shown nothing but gratitude for the weird serendipity of his fanbase. He's even writing back to us actively and encourages people to talk to him and about him as much as they like.

Of all the things out there about Luigi, fanfic is not the worst. The news calling him a 'monster' and a 'killer', social media trying to erase him from history, and news helicopters circling his loved ones homes ominously for hours. That's the shit you should be focusing on trying to stop, not the fact someone wrote yet another story where he turns into a werewolf or goes shopping with an unnamed protagonist.

[hyperfocusthusly]

Forget Me Not - Chapter 3

Notes: established relationship, Tommy gets amnesia | rated: G | words: 2.5k

[Read on Ao3]

——-

He had managed to guide Tommy up off the floor. They sat in silence on the edge of the bed for a long time, Tommy’s breathing eventually evening out.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” He swallows harshly. “I’m fine.” He lifts up a hand, swipes at his face to catch the last of the drying tears. “Y-you can go, if you want to. I-if this isn’t working and you want to leave then-” He stops as Buck tentatively brushes the side of Tommy’s thigh, not quite brave enough to take the hand that’s resting on top.

“I just-” He takes a moment, images of the cracked picture flashing through his mind. “I just got a bit freaked out I guess. I thought you-” He fights the lump building in his throat. “I thought you would be more comfortable if I left. It can’t be easy, having a stranger in your house.”

Tommy turns to look at him, there’s something unreadable in his expression.

“But you’re not a stranger, you’re Evan.” He says it so simply.

They’re so close, Buck can feel Tommy’s breath on his cheek. He flicks his eyes up to the ceiling for a moment, takes a steadying breath. When he looks back Tommy is still exactly where he left him.

Tommy edges closer, tilting his head towards him. Buck is about to lean forward and close the gap when Tommy lets out a gasp and Buck pulls back immediately. Tommy’s eyes are scrunched shut and his hand shoots up to hold the injured side of his head, expression taken over by a wave of pain. Buck moves in front of him, arms on Tommy’s biceps to steady him as he threatens to fall forwards. He carefully goes through the checks on Tommy’s hospital release form. He is able to talk, lift his arms and his pupils had come up equal and reactive. The gash on his head was clean, still healing slowly, showing no signs of infection. Once Buck was sure Tommy wasn’t in any immediate danger, he takes a step back.

“You should get some rest. We can talk about this tomorrow.” Tommy nods shallowly, flinching again as the movement sends off another bolt of pain. Buck loops one arm around Tommy’s back and cups his other hand around the side of Tommy’s neck. He is sure to keep Tommy’s head steady as he gently manoeuvres him down onto the pillows. He moves down the bed, gently lifting up Tommy’s legs and quietly tucks him in. He sits on the edge of the bed as Tommy settles. He thinks about going back to his room but the fear that was rooted in his chest kept him where he was. What if something was wrong? What if Tommy got worse during the night and he wasn’t there to help him? He decides to stay, there’s no way he’d be able to sleep if he didn’t.

He had just settled down on the bed next to Tommy when his phone pings. He flinches and glances over at Tommy, who is undisturbed by the sudden sound. It’s a text from Maddie.

Is everything okay?

He pinches the bridge of his nose, looks down at Tommy’s now sleeping form. He quickly types out a response.

Yeah, I’m going to stay. I got stuck in my head earlier, it wasn’t fair on him to just decide to leave like that. Thanks for having my back though 🫶🏻

He puts his phone down and rolls onto his side, so that he’s facing Tommy. They’re so close again. He reaches out and runs his fingers along the back of Tommy’s hand, up his arm until he reaches his shoulder. The comforter has slipped down so Buck pulls it back up, carefully wrapping him up. Tommy shuffles in his sleep and turns his head towards where Buck’s hand is resting on his shoulder. The bolt of his jaw brushes along the back of Buck’s thumb. He gently turns his hand over,  running the pad of his thumb along Tommy’s cheekbone, curling his fingers to cup his face. Tommy makes a small sleepy noise and nuzzles into his palm. Warmth swoops through Buck’s body, settles in his chest. He thinks about their near kiss, the vulnerability on Tommy’s face. The fear in Tommy’s eyes when he thought Buck was about to leave him makes Buck’s stomach clench uncomfortably.

“I won’t leave you.” He murmurs, edging a tiny bit closer to Tommy. He closes his eyes and lets himself drift off in the comfort of their shared warmth.

——-

When Buck wakes up the bed is empty. The clock on the bedside table tells him it’s the morning. He tries not to think anything of the fact that Tommy is not still in bed with him. He comes into the living room and finds Tommy, his back to Buck, looking at something in his hands. Tommy turns as he hears Buck approach. The ghost of last night’s pain still on his face.

“How’s your head?” Buck asks, he feels awkward. For how close they got last night, now it feels like he’s further away than ever. What if Tommy wasn’t still in bed this morning because he regretted their moment, or that he wasn’t comfortable with Buck being in the bed with him. He’d not thought about that last night, he’d just wanted to stay close, make sure he was nearby if Tommy had needed anything. In the cold morning light it was all he could think about.

“It’s okay, still got a bit of a headache but it’s not as bad.”

“You should take something for it, the medicine cabinet is next to the fridge.”

“I found it, but thanks.”

“Oh, yeah okay. That’s good.”

They fall into an uneasy silence.

“We should get some new glass for it.” Tommy gestures to the frame that he is holding, forgotten from yesterday. Buck scuffs his foot along the carpet, doesn’t say anything. Tommy turns to him fully, reaches out and hooks his fingers around Buck’s wrist.

“I can’t-” he stops, face twisting down in a frown. “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you. A-and I’m sorry if I’ve been making it harder by not talking to you about it. I’ve just, just been trying to get it straight in my head but I don’t know-” He glances down at the picture frame again. “I don’t know what’s real. Like this picture, I can see that that is me and you, but it doesn’t feel like it’s me.” Buck starts to pull his arm away, he can see where this is going. It doesn’t feel like me, you don’t feel like me. Why would I stay with someone I can’t remember? Buck braces himself.

“But,” Tommy takes a steadying breath, “when you nearly left? I-” His fingers tighten around Buck’s wrist. “I knew that it wasn’t right, I don’t remember why I feel safe with you, I just know that I do. I remember how you make me feel.” His eyes flicker over to the front door, then back to Buck. “We aren’t supposed to be apart.”

Buck feels completely frozen. His mouth opening and closing around words that won’t come to him.

“A-and I know you want to go,” Tommy pulls in on himself, “and I have no right to ask you to stay.” He falters, worries at his bottom lip. “But before you do, I just wanted you to know that I know you’re supposed to be here.” Tommy takes a step towards him, something soft and pleading in his eyes. “We’re supposed to be here.” He says it so softly, so simply as if he hasn’t just made Buck feel like he could be knocked over by a light breeze.

Buck takes a deep breath, tries to stop his voice from shaking.

“I was only going because I thought you didn’t want me.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel like that.”

Buck chews on the inside of his cheek, looks down to where Tommy’s fingers are still wrapped around his wrist.

“Are you sure you want me to stay?”

“I’m sure.”

“Then I’ll stay.”

——-

Over the next few days Buck starts to feel a little lighter. He is still following Tommy’s lead, answering asked questions, sharing more of their lives together. They sit on the sofa and look through photo albums, wishes for the moment that something will click into place. The moment where Tommy will look at him like he used to, ask how he could have forgotten anything of them. The moment doesn’t come and Buck tries to shake away the thought, be happy with the progress they are making.

Tommy also seems to have gone from sleeping more than normal to not at all. Buck can hear him shifting around all night and the bags under his eyes darken each day. He knows he should say something, but everytime he asks how Tommy slept he just brushes him off.

Buck’s in the kitchen, staring down into the steaming cup of Chamomile Tea he had just made. He didn’t even know if Tommy would like it, but the research he had done last night while he was laying awake listening to Tommy toss and turn in the next room had suggested it as a sleeping aid. He knows he needs to talk to Tommy about it, knows that he will avoid it all together if Buck lets him. He picks up the mug and starts into the living room. Tommy is sat on the couch, leaning on the arm, legs tucked up to the side. He doesn’t seem to be paying too much attention to the nature documentary on the TV. He’s blinking slowly, like he’s struggling to stay awake.

“I got you some Chamomile tea. You’re not sleeping properly and I thought it might help.”

Tommy startles at the sound of Buck’s voice appearing from behind him. He frowns.

“I’m sleeping fine.”

Buck had expected the avoidance, he takes a deep breath.

“I can hear you at night, pacing around. I know you’re not sleeping well. Is your head still bothering you?”

Tommy looks over at him from his seat on the sofa. Buck crosses the room and hands him a steaming mug, sitting down next to him, mindful of the space he leaves between them.

Tommy shrugs, the steam from the mug clouding his expression for a moment. He rubs his free hand across the back of his neck. He can see the worry painted on Buck’s face.

“It’s not my head, that’s been fine.“ He meets Buck’s gaze, tries for a reassuring smile. He’s not completely sure he pulls it off. “I’ve just been feeling a bit restless, like I can’t quite settle.”

Buck lets out a sound of frustration at Tommy’s words, irritation crosses over his face as he jumps up.

“Sorry I should have-” He stops at the sight of Tommy, immediately drawn in on himself, the grip on his mug noticeably tighter. Buck squeezes his eyes shut and chastises himself, he hadn’t meant to startle him. His hands squeeze together anxiously as he tries not to think about how quickly Tommy had shrunk into himself.  Instead he slowly kneels down by the edge of the couch, one hand balancing him against it, close to Tommy’s thigh.

“Sorry, that wasn’t at you. I just remembered something I should have given you when you came home. I just forgot because normally I’m with you-” He takes a steadying breath. “Normally I’m with you at night when you need it.” Tommy looks at Buck with confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

“Stay there, I’ll go and get it.” Tommy watches as Buck vanishes from the room, listens as he bounds up the stairs and begins rummaging around in their room.

When Buck returns he’s carrying what appears to be a huge grey blanket. Tommy furrows his brow, unsure as to what could make this blanket more effective than the one he is using currently.

“It’s a weighted blanket.” Buck explains as he unravels it. “We got it last year when you were having some sleeping issues.  You don’t need it so much anymore, but I should have thought about it, sorry.” He leans forward and drapes the blanket over Tommy’s shoulders, smooths it down his chest. He carefully runs his hands around the outline of Tommy’s body, gently tucking him into the blanket. His movements a quick and practiced, clearly something he has done before.

The effect is immediate, Tommy can feel all the tension draining out of his body. Suddenly it feels like he doesn’t have any option other than to fall asleep. The couch dips next to him, the warmth of Buck’s arm presses against his own.

“Sorry I didn’t think of it before.”

“-s’okay.” The exhaustion of the last few nights creeps up and settles in behind his eyes. He blinks slower. “It’s working.” He was sure he had meant to make the sentence longer, but he couldn’t find the words. He thinks he hears Evan laugh. He likes that, he thinks through the sleepy haze, he likes to make Evan laugh. He catches himself as his head tips forward, jerks back upright. He should probably lay down, find a pillow at least. He looks around blearily, catches Evan looking at him, a soft smile on his face. He thinks about the other night, how safe he had felt when Evan had pulled him into his arms, let him rest in the crook of his neck. Evan tilts his head to the side, a questioning look on his face. Tommy decides that he should trust his feelings.

“Can I-” He means to gesture to Evan, but his hand doesn’t move like he wants it to. He tries again, but it bounces back down into his lap, deflected by the blanket he is cocooned in. He pouts, his brain sluggishly trying to find a solution. Evan laughs again and a part of Tommy’s brain lights up. Evan seems to have understood what he was trying to ask for. He shifts slightly sideways and slides his arm along Tommy’s back, pulling him into his body until Tommy’s head is resting against the column of his throat, carefully tucked under his chin.

“Of course you can darling, anything you need.” He murmurs. Tommy turns the hand gently resting on Buck’s chest and takes a handful of his shirt. The fabric is soft under his fingers. He can feel the warmth of Evan’s body seeping into him, the steady beat of his heart lulling Tommy away into the easiest sleep he’s had in days.

Tag list for this fic (let me know if you want to be added or removed);

@leashybebes @perfectlysunny02 @sweaters-and-silly @sunnywithachanceofbi @mattdoestevan @mmso-notlikethat @harmonic-intervention @bidisasterevankinard @cinderellarhea @comfortingevanbuckley @theotherbuckley @apassingbird @actuallyitsellie

@casismybestfriend @crankypotionsmaster @powersuitup @disaster-j @hellion-child @rubydaiquiri @evanbuckleymylove @drivebyanon @teabroomsandbooks @feistygina @androidsaliensnwizards @bigfootsmom @babyspacegay @desert--moonchild @exhaustedpirate @do-androids-dream-ao3acc @swagmaster9k @sleepy-lazy-loser @tommysdaddykink

[bacchuschucklefuck]

january month of yuugi