#the first one is about these dogs I'm sitting that have so many bones they like to carry in their mouths when they want attention

[lemondoddle]

Doodle dump!

[haveagarbageday]

Defeated \\ Charles Leclerc, Oscar Piastri, Jenson Button

summary: Charles and Oscar both fall in love with you, and they do their best to impress you. But you're not interested, and eventually they find out why.

additional info: Mercedes!driver!reader. Jenson won the vote, so here we are. No happy ending for Charles and Oscar. Anyway, I'm like a dog with a bone, I'm not letting that Webber idea go. So expect a story where Oscar loves reader, but he finds out she's with Mark.

warnings: age gap

After the whole adoption joke, the friendship of Charles and Oscar reached a new stage. Sure, they had been friends before, but this shifted the dynamic in the direction of something better, something based on mutual respect. They helped each other, they kept in touch outside race weekends too–to the point Oscar was often invited to family dinners since everyone took that joke far too seriously–and everything was great in general.

That’s until the beginning of the 2025 season. Mercedes announced your arrival the year before, but you were just another rookie, someone they didn’t know that well. But then you scored some precious points on your first race, and you kept up this exceptional performance, eventually challenging your teammate for higher positions. This caught their interest, although they weren’t alone. Many drivers looked at your twenty-two years old self as a little sister, someone they wanted to protect from the sport’s toxic environment.

But these two didn’t see you as a sister, far from that. They had a soft spot for you after getting to know you better, and without ever discussing it, they both started to flirt with you in their own ways. Oscar decided to befriend you first, giving himself the chance to talk to you even when you weren’t in the paddock together, he invited you to hang out with him, and he always made sure to sneak a few sentences that hinted at his intention into your conversations. Charles was more straightforward with his compliments, whether it was related to your driving or the way you looked that day, and he even brought you small gifts, always saying he just happened to think of you when he saw them.

They both noticed what the other was doing, which led to a cold war between the two of them, slowly poisoning their relationship, although they didn’t let it show. They kept talking on the race weekends, they didn’t unfollow each other on social media, but the tone of their conversations became a lot colder. But one day they decided to talk about this, and even though neither of them said it out loud that this was the reason for their meeting, deep down they both knew they had to discuss what they should do.

As they were sitting in the secluded corner of a café back home in Monaco, just a day before they were supposed to head to their next race weekend, Oscar let out a long sigh and took a sip of his coffee and looked over at the door when someone walked in. He wanted to figure out how to bring you up, how to shift the conversation about the upcoming race to you, about the situation they found themselves in.

But Charles seemed to be a step ahead of him, because he cleared his throat to get his attention, then went, “You like her, don’t you?”

The Aussie nodded, a small smile unintentionally creeping on his face at the thought of you. “I believe you feel the same,” he said after a short break.

“What’s not to like?” the fellow driver asked, and the younger man across from him nodded once again in agreement, muttering true under his breath. Charles unexpectedly let out a troubled sigh and leaned back in his chair, a hand now resting on the back of his neck. “I don’t know about you, but she keeps me at arm’s length. It’s like I’ve been friend zoned.”

Oscar’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “You too? I thought she was acting like this because she chose you,” he admitted.

His friend watched him with narrowed eyes, his brain in overdrive as he thought about the possible reasons. Did you have someone? Were you focusing on your job instead of looking for a relationship? It must be the latter, after all you had once told him you wanted to survive your first year without any kind of drama. You also said you were using Oscar as a reference point, because he managed to exist in this world with his private life mostly kept private.

“I wouldn’t be here if she chose me. I would spend every free moment with her, but she’s just not interested. What do we do now? I don’t want to forget her, I don’t know if I could,” he said.

The McLaren driver licked his lips and looked down at the cup in front of him. “Me neither. But what if we have no choice? We can’t force her to choose between us,” he began, stopping for a moment while he thought. “What if our attempts are futile and she wouldn’t pick either of us in the end? Maybe it’s time to admit we have no chance.”

Charles let out a laugh as he shook his head. “You can give up if you want, but I’ll keep trying.”

Despite their little competition being perfectly fine until now, Oscar felt the need to set some rules, just so their chances were even. He suggested the other man to tone it down a bit, to stop trying to buy your love with gifts, because those meant a lot to you, you had told him that yourself before. It’s not that he wasn’t ready to shower you with things your heart desired, he just didn’t think it was fair to manipulate you like this. But the Monegasque only laughed at this and said maybe it wasn't him who had to tone it down, maybe it was Oscar who had to step up his game.

Either way, you still didn’t show any interest in them, not romantically at least.

On one race weekend Jenson Button showed up, being there for Williams, but spending some time with Sky Sports too, doing interviews with a few of the drivers. Oscar was waiting for his turn not far from them, watching as you answered the questions with that big smile on your face, and he couldn’t help but smile himself, because it made him fall in love with you again.

Then he heard Jenson go, “I heard you felt a little sick this morning. Do you think it could affect your weekend?”

Your eyes widened, clearly surprised by the question, but it only lasted for a second, because you were quick to respond as calmly as you could. “I’m fine, maybe it’s just some dehydration, I’ll drink more, and I’ll be good as new,” you said with a small smile forced on your face.

After a few more questions it was a wrap for you, and you began to walk away, but Jenson excused himself and went after you, probably to apologize for bringing up your health problem when you hadn’t talked about it yet. As you said, it wasn’t serious, maybe there was no reason to mention it. Now, Oscar didn’t want to eavesdrop, he usually respected other people’s privacy, but neither of you noticed he was nearby, and you began to talk in a normal voice that made it impossible for him not to hear it without walking away.

“What the fuck was that? We agreed, everything that happens behind closed doors stays there,” you hissed angrily.

The Aussie had his suspicions, but maybe he was wrong, maybe it was just his imagination running wild. But when Jenson let out a sigh and raised his hands in defense, he knew his first instinct was right. “I thought we agreed that you would go to the medical center to figure out what this is. You said you didn’t, what was I supposed to do?” he asked.

You let out an incredulous laugh. “So what, pressuring me on air was the best you could come up with? I’m fine, I already told you, let’s just drop this.”

Jenson took a step closer to you, his hand slowly reaching out to touch you, but he changed his mind last minute. “All right, you’re right, it wasn’t fair. I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you tonight. How does that sound?” You watched him for a few seconds, then nodded. “Good, we’ll discuss the details later. Be a good girl until then.”

After you waved him goodbye and left, he returned to his place in front of the camera, and Oscar was finally told it was his turn. But after seeing this? There was no way he could keep his cool while talking to him, or at least it would take a lot more effort than usual. Now he knew why you weren’t interested in either him nor Charles, and this broke his heart. From all the people around them, you seriously had to pick someone so much older than you? Someone you couldn’t openly date?

In the afternoon, he sent a text to Charles, asking for an emergency meeting in the evening, and so now the two of them were sitting in his hotel room with a bottle of booze and two glasses in front of them. Oscar told his friend everything he had heard and seen that day, and they both became absolutely depressed, hitting the rock bottom by the end of the story. They tried to figure out what to do now, but they agreed that exposing your relationship would have been a terrible move, and they didn’t even feel like intervening.

“Do you think she loves him?” Charles asked with a sigh as he looked up at the ceiling.

Oscar shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, she was smiling so brightly, especially when she was talking to him. And Jenson brought up her sickness because he was worried about her, so maybe it’s a mutual feeling.”

Silence fell between them as it became obvious that they had no chance, not before either you or Jenson got bored of the other and broke up. Once they emptied the bottle, Charles stood up and said goodnight, deciding to go back to his own hotel room to get some proper sleep so he could focus the next day. “My heart is already broken, I don’t want my car to be broken too,” he told Oscar before leaving. It was painful, yes, but maybe they would have a chance to fight for you. Maybe one day you would realize that being in a relationship you could openly talk about was much better.

[ithebookhoarder]

Hiiiiiii, Could i request an Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader fic where Anthony married reader who is from a lower class (basically like Theo) and they end up having a fight because reader did something that would be considered out of class or simply wrong while she’s trying to learn to be a viscountess. Sorry if it didn’t make any sense English isn’t my first language 😭😭😭

All's Fair in Love and Cricket (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)

Synopsis: After getting into a fight with your new husband you decide to settle your differences in a 'sporting' fashion, whilst reminding Anthony once and for all just who he married.

A/N: Ohhhhh boy did I enjoy this one. I'm sorry if it feels a little rushed or clunky in places, I may make some more edits at some point. I struggled with the flow of writing so much action but I loved it too much not to post it. So yeah, anxiety be damned else this would join the rest of the unposted drafts I have stashed away. I hope you enjoy it. 💕

Warnings: Anthony being a stupid idiot, class references (discrimination), reference to illness 

Masterlist

It was late summer and as the sun beat down on the green lawns of St James’ Palace the lords and ladies below began to wilt. Many a woman held her parasol above her head in a desperate attempt to remain cool, which was hard when you wore petticoats and had nothing to do but sit and watch the men play cricket for hours on end.

Even Her Majesty looked like she was struggling to make it through the afternoon's entertainment, her attendants desperately fanning her where she sat under her canopy. They looked close to melting in their ornate gowns, however they were clearly willing to endure if it allowed them to continue admiring the game - and more importantly, those playing it. It was like waving a bone in a dog’s face as they watched all the eligible young men of the court sprinting about the green, their physique and athletic talents on clear display.

No wonder the Queen had her opera glasses with her, despite her proximity to the field. 

You almost felt bad for them, watching as the men were subjected to the same treatment as the young ladies were night after night at social functions… hence the 'almost'. After all, there was a sense of satisfaction watching them preen and dance about like show ponies on display. That, and the view wasn’t exactly a terrible one when your husband was one of those playing. 

You’d have endured sitting on that blasted green a thousand times over, baking in the afternoon sun and surrounded by swooning women, just to watch Anthony Bridgerton as he captained his team. 

Being one of Anthony’s oldest and dearest friends, his competitive nature was well known to you (for which you had one too many games of Pall Mall at Aubrey Hall to thank), but it seemed to be out in full force today. You’d simply lost track of how many times he had dashed back and forth, working up somewhat of a sweat as he barked orders at his teammates in a desperate bid to ensure victory. It was no surprise to you that he had subsequently been forced to remove his jacket and roll up his sleeves, exposing his rather sculpted arms to those watching.  

As you said, there were worse ways to spend an afternoon - and normally, you’d have been smugly lapping it up, however, today you were unable to truly enjoy yourself. Not when all you wanted to do was march over to him, take that cricket bat and give him a good whack or two. Maybe that would knock some sense back into idiot… 

That was the issue with being in love with your dearest friend: those who knew you best also knew the best ways to hurt you, and Anthony’s behaviour at dinner the following evening had proven just how true a statement that was. 

It had all started after the entire family had been summoned to the townhouse for a dinner, to toast you and what had so far been a successful first Season as Viscountess Bridgerton. At first, everything had appeared normal, with the usual laughter, merriment, and ease that one would typically experience at a Bridgerton gathering. It was what had first endeared the family to you, back when you had been but a small child, living at Aubrey Hall as the only daughter of their Stable Master. 

They had never been anything other than kind to you, inviting you to play with their children, and join them in their daily lessons. They had also bought you gifts on your birthdays, invited you to join them at events, and even paid for the finest doctors when your father had fallen unwell several years ago. It was as if, to the Bridgertons, your family was their family - an attitude that they extended to the all members of the staff that kept their ancestral seat running. It didn’t matter if you were Head House Keeper, or the greenest of scullery maids. Everyone was counted and cherished, and the Bridgertons had earned utmost loyalty in return. 

The rigid rules and divisions of high society didn’t appear to exist within the wisteria covered walls, and it had been that way well into your young adult life. In fact, it had been you that had initially rejected Anthony when he first declared his love for you one day, after taking you along with him on one of your many afternoon rides. 

You’d been the one to remind him who he was and that society expected him to marry someone they deemed worthy of him and his title - and that wasn’t you. You didn’t have a penny to your name beyond the small sum you’d saved from helping with the younger Bridgerton children as a governess. You didn’t have a title or an estate or anything to bring to a marriage. 

“Except the most important thing!” Anthony had pleaded. “Love… I love you, and there is no one else for me in this life except you. Life is short, terrifyingly short. Look at my mother and father… to be without the person you love most in the world is an agony and I cannot bear it. Please. I can’t lose you. I will not spend my life without you, knowing love is within both of our reach but that we were too afraid to grasp it? If I cannot spend my life, no matter how long it may be, with you then I will have no-one. No-one. My brothers can have the title. I don’t want it. I only want you.”

He’d continued to insist that for the following 6 months, even after his family had moved to their London house for the Season. It didn’t matter how many beautiful, eligible, wealthy heiresses he was introduced to. He would entertain none of them. He would have none of them. Only you. 

It’s what he’d continued to insist until you’d eventually accepted, realising that he was right; Love was the most important thing and you both deserved to have it in your lives, come what may. 

So, you’d said yes. 

You’d become engaged and gradually made your way out into society as the new Viscountess Bridgerton, armed with the support and guidance of the Bridgertons. 

Which brought you to last night and the dinner that had been organised to mark the end of the most challenging, but rewarding, Season of your life - and the dinner had started so wonderfully. Yet, somehow it had all gone to hell in a hand basket in the mere blink of an eye thanks the well meaning, but ill timed, teasing of Colin and Benedict.

Your brothers-in-law had both decided to raise a toast to your first Season as an ‘official’ member of the family and they'd got off to a rather complimentary start, if you were being honest. However, they had somehow moved from their praise on to reminiscing about the many years and many adventures you had had since joining their family.

Whereas every anecdote had caused the rest of the family to spiral into more laughter, your husband had looked more and more infuriated. In fact, Anthony had warned them not too kindly to ‘sit down’ and ‘shut up’ about your childish behaviours, which of course had only encouraged them further. 

“Oh, hush, brother,” Benedict had quipped, raising a glass to your successful debut. “She knows we mean it all in good fun. After all, she once had a phase where she refused to wear shoes and would walk barefoot around the estate, traipsing mud everywhere! I think we’re allowed to be surprised by how far our dear darling Y/N has come.”

“It’s true - It’s a miracle,” Colin added, wiping the tears of laughter from his cheeks. “The transformation is remarkable. Who knew she would go from feral ragamuffin to lofty Lady Bridgerton.” 

Anthony’s only response had been to tighten his grip on his glass to the point it looked like it would shatter. 

Whether it was the residual stress of your busy social calendar, or something else entirely you had no idea. All you did know was that Anthony was angry, and even your gentle touch would not soothe him. 

In a desperate attempt to calm him, you’d pulled Anthony out onto the terrace shortly after dessert had been cleared and asked what was happening. Much to your surprise, he had turned on you, venting about how childish his brothers were and how embarrassing it was that they were discussing things unbefitting someone who was a Viscountess. 

“They’re just joking, my love. They were doing it to get a rise out of you.”

“Well, it wasn’t funny,” he’d growled, causing you to bristle. “They’re so immature. They need to grow up and realise we’re not children any more. That… that you’re my wife and joint head of this family.”

“So? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t, Anthony,” you snapped, the warning clear in your tone. “What are you trying to say?”

“Nothing, I just - it - they’re… it’s embarrassing.” 

“So, you’re embarrassed? By what? Your family? Or me? Because everything they said tonight is true. I did do those things, as did you. I may not have been born a noble lady but you knew that when you asked me to marry you. So don’t suddenly act like you're ashamed, that you are somehow better than your family - than me.”

Somehow the argument had only spiralled from there, with both of you saying things you didn’t mean, and with both of you storming off and slamming the doors behind you. 

Even now, sat on the edge of the cricket pitch, the thought made your blood boil. How dare he? How dare he act ashamed of you and the wondrous memories of your youth together? It wasn’t as if you hadn’t grown and matured since then. You had done everything within your power to be worthy of him and his family, and yet all it took was one mention of the girl you had once been to make him upset?

As if sensing your silent fury, Eloise had been glued to your side since the moment you'd left the house. Her company had been a blessing, with her numerous whispered remarks and jokes, making the day almost bearable. One remark in particular from Eloise had caused you to burst out laughing in a most undignified fashion after watching Anthony trip over one of the opposite team - the Duke of Hastings of all people. 

You still weren’t quite sure how they had been positioned on opposite teams, but you were sure there was some kind of wicked divine intervention responsible. Who else would think it a good idea to put two competitive men against one another? Your hosts, perhaps? After all, Lady Danbury and Her Majesty had organised the game and you had learned long ago not to underestimate the women - especially when they decided to conspire together. 

“How long is this delightful game again?” Eloise’s polite remark oozed with sarcasm as she leant back against the tree behind her. 

It was obvious she was bored senseless. In fact, you half suspected she would have already left had her mother not been sat on the opposite side of the green, watching her like a hawk. 

“I’m not sure,” you groaned in reply. “I lost count of who was winning about an hour ago.”

“So, we’re to be trapped here for eternity?”

“Pretty much, considering this part will not end until either Simon or Anthony lose, and we both know that neither one of them will concede defeat easily.”

Eloise rolled her eyes. “And I thought they were bad at Pall Mall-”

“-LOOK OUT!”

The cry interrupted both of you as you turned in surprise. Given the so-far sedimentary tone of the day, neither of you had expected such excitement as numerous Lords and Ladies began to hurl themselves out of the way as a stray cricket ball rocketed through the air, towards the crowd. 

“Good god!”

The exclamation seemed apt as both you and Eloise ducked, watching as the ball sailed past, causing several yelps and groans from the people around you. You were pretty sure you also spied a glass of lemonade flying through the air in all the chaos. However, your attention was drawn to the figure charging towards you to retrieve the offending item as it rolled to a stop. 

Anthony.

“Pardon me, Y/N,” he murmured, reaching down to collect the ball that now lay a small distance from your feet. You nodded in greeting, aware of the many eyes watching but you elected not to say anything, not trusting yourself not to make some snide remark.

As it was, you both had barely said more than a handful of words to each other since your argument last night.

Clearly sensing the lingering tension between you, Anthony quickly turned to address his sister instead. “Eloise.”

“Ah, brother," Eloise cheered. "Splendid play so far. Tell me, when did the object of the game become the decapitation of the ton? I would have attended far more cricket matches had I known that was the aim of the game.” 

“You can blame Simon for that one,” he replied, his taunt hidden beneath his neutral smile. “Still, good dodging back there. I thought he might have nearly caught you both.”

“Almost.”

“But alas he missed, like most of your players today,” you quipped, enjoying the way Anthony seemed to redden at the reminder of his team’s less than stellar performance. “Still, good effort. You’ve almost caught up with Her Majesty’s team. I believe that’s better than last year.”

“Well, that might have had something to do with the fact that she does have Simon,” Anthony grumbled. 

It was true, no one could out-run Simon - even if Anthony always gave it a damn good try: hence why the Queen often had him captain her team when he was in London for the season. Besides, the head of the other team was usually Lord Duval, due to his position as the Queen’s chief administrator. However, it seemed his brains and financial strength were all he had, due to the fact his social skills, and athleticism were sorely lacking. 

“Touché, and who is up next?” Eloise asked. 

“I don't actually know. The other team seem to be taking remarkably long to sort themselves out.”

Just then, almost as if on cue, three men began to hurry towards them.

A quick glance revealed that one of the gentlemen who was approaching was Colin Bridgeton, and the other the Duke of Hastings; that much you knew. The third was rather unfamiliar to you, however, you were pretty certain he’d been playing on Simon’s team. Regardless of his identity, neither he nor any of the other gentlemen now stood in front of you looked very pleased. Rather, they looked as if they had all sucked on a lemon, their frowns were so deep.

“Sorry to interrupt ladies, but I must reclaim Lord Bridgerton here for a moment. It appears Anthony will be needed to bowl again,” Simon sighed by way of explanation.

“What on earth for?”

Colin was the first to answer. “Lord Dingby is unable to bowl on account of the heat, and the Baron will not play.” His skepticism was clear as he shot the so called Baron a disapproving look. “He ’twisted his ankle’ or so he claims, thus we are down a bowler and the other team is down a player.”

You all rolled your eyes.

“So then, who will bat?” questioned Eloise curiously. “If Anthony is bowling you still require one more man to take their place on the other team?”

Wasn’t that the question of the hour. However, no one appeared to have an answer, and by the disapproving glare steadily growing on the Queen’s face, they didn’t have long to come up with one. 

“Maybe Lord Stevens?” suggested the third man hastily, staring around at the crowd. 

“No. He injured himself riding the other week,” Simon replied. “And unfortunately our hosts only saw fit to invite enough male guests as were playing. We aren’t exactly spoilt for choice regarding possible options.”

It was true. There didn’t seem to be any visible answer in sight given that those most suited to the game were already positioned on the field. 

“What about female guests though?” 

Your question hung in the air for a moment, causing everyone around you to turn in surprise. 

“Excuse me?” Anthony looked at you suspiciously as you began to rise from your seat. He was well versed enough to know when mischief was afoot. A fact that was proven right a moment later as you held your hand out towards a shocked - and excited - Colin.

He was only too happy to oblige your silent request as he placed the bat in your grip. It was rapidly becoming the most exciting event of the season and lord knows he wasn’t about to spoil the fun - especially if he got to rub salt into Anthony’s wounds at the same time. 

After all, given his display the previous evening, it was time you truly gave him something to feel embarrassed about. Losing.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Perfectly,” you smiled. “You’ve seen me when we’ve played Pall Mall. I have a decent enough swing. Besides, you said yourselves you need an extra player and there isn’t exactly anyone suited left - not anyone male, anyway.” 

“Anthony?” 

To his credit, your husband was also smiling, even if you could see the sudden tension forming behind his perfect smile. “I see no problem with it. I’m sure our hosts would prefer the game finished rather than called off because we ran out of players.” 

“Agreed. Well, it’s settled then.” Simon cheered, clapping a hand on Anthony’s shoulder as they looked back towards the field. “It seems she will be taking his go.” 

Then they noticed the rain cloud of a man next to them.

"She can’t play!” protested the third man. Everyone looked at him in silent disbelief. “This is a gentleman’s game. A Lady can not play."

“Her Majesty seems to have no objections,” Eloise commented smugly, glancing across the field. Indeed, it was true Her Majesty seemed to have no objections to the turn of events, choosing instead to exchange a wad of pound notes with the man beside her. If anything she looked exhilarated by the prospect. "Besides, I doubt a feeble female such as ourselves will pose any threat to your team, your Lordship.” 

“Well… I… Bridgerton, I still don’t think-” 

Thankfully, Anthony was all too busy gazing at you to take any notice of the pompous oaf’s objections. 

It was a look you were more than familiar with, the unspoken desire and encouragement obvious in the way his gaze softened. It was the same look he always gave you when you’d done something amazing (and most things were amazing in his eyes). It didn't matter if it was taming a particularly unruly horse, solving a maths problem that left the rest of them scratching their heads, or daring to step onto the dance floor at your first ball, knowing not another soul in that room other than him.  

It was a look that made you feel invincible. That you could do anything and everything you put your mind to as long as you had Anthony cheering you on from the sidelines... you were a team. Always.

"Anthony?" you asked, the challenge obvious - but also your sincerity. If he truly did not want you to play then you'd have marched back to your chair and sat right back down.

You'd meant it before. You loved your husband and wanted nothing more than to be the best partner you could be. Your hurt from last night had stemmed from the fear that, for a moment, that wasn't enough for him anymore.

Fortunately, it appeared you were wrong. Your husband wasn't embarrassed by you. If anything, he looked ready to kiss the ground you walked on as he leaned over and whispered in your ear, "If you can get four runs, I will personally pay you 5 pounds."

"You have a deal," you laughed. "As it is, women and ladies alike play cricket up and down the country. It’s high time we had a chance to show you boys up."

The other man began to protest again. "My Lady, my La-" 

He never got very far. You simply stopped, turning and handing him your parasol and shawl.

"Thank you," you cheered marching away.

He paused, taken aback. It didn’t help that Eloise was only too eager to firmly pull him back into your now vacant seat with a glare that could have melted ice. 

All around applause broke out as the players resumed their positions on the field. It took a moment or two for them to prepare for play but now everyone seemed to be watching intently. 

Oh well, if you were to dare to play at all then you may as well dare to achieve something from it, you mused, gripping the bat handle and aligning yourself with the wicket. Victory seemed a rather good start, especially given the fact you had no idea what Lady Whistledown would make of this turn of affairs. You’d already had a shocking enough entrance into the world of the Ton, what was one more daring display?

"Go easy, Lord Bridgerton," the referee cautioned from the side of the green. 

Anthony nodded obediently at the crowd’s titters. You could see the restraint he was demonstrating, choosing not to hurl the ball at you the way he would had you both been in the privacy of your home. Instead, it took all his will power to grip the cricket ball and resume his position on the field. 

Unfortunately, you never knew when best to desist from poking proverbial bears. That, and Anthony was too easy a target. 

"Yes, do go easy on me," you jibed. Everyone who knew you could hear the sarcasm buried in your voice as you took the bat and fluttered your eyelashes at him. "I’m only a delicate woman, but I must endeavour to ensure her Majesty’s team at least has an opportunity to best you, Lord Bridgerton. You’re only losing by what? A few wickets?" 

Oh. You were in for it now. 

Anthony’s grin was devious as he stepped back a few paces, weighing the ball in his hand till finally he charged at you, swinging his arm over in the perfect bowl. 

It was then you brought up your bat to send the ball back in a high arc. 

There was a moment of stunned silence as everyone followed the ball with their eyes. It was as if they couldn’t believe you’d actually managed to hit it. However, the shock quickly wore off as everyone remembered the point of hitting the ball in the first place. 

"GO!" came a yell from the crowd as excitement began to spread. 

So, you did.

Hitching your skirts in one hand, you began to sprint towards the other set of wickets, grinning as your partner passed you along the way. 

Of course, you would have liked to protest that you could have indeed run faster had you not been encumbered by your stays and petticoats. Your slippers were also rather terrible for any movement. What you wouldn’t have given for a pair of trousers right then. 

"Come on!" came another yell - it seemed as if everyone was forgetting their dignity in all the excitement as you tore back and forth across the grass in a mad blur. 

Had it been anyone but you, it would have been a terribly scandalous moment. Yet, your name - and the status of your betrothed - meant this was all merely seen as sport. Besides, from the way Her Majesty was whooping from her perch by the trees, it was clear where her loyalties lay.

"Come on Y/N!"

"Anthony! Run!"

"Over here!"

"Come on!"

The cries blurred into one as you finally turned at what you planned on being your final run, only to spot Anthony as he came sprinting back towards you… and the wicket.

"Oh no, you don’t," you laughed, charging onwards in a final burst of energy. 

You could hardly catch your breath as the world slowed around you. 

All that remained was you, Anthony, and the closing distance between you. 

You could see his desperation laced with delight as he watched you stagger towards the wicket… just as the ball he’d thrown hit it.

"IN!" 

The referee’s declaration initiated an eruption of noise as all around the green, men and women celebrated the spectacle they’d just witnessed, and the victory you had now ensured.  Within seconds you were swarmed, mobbed by well wishers and triumphant team mates. There were so many hugs and snatched ‘well done’s that you were quite at a loss what to do other than stand there and accept it. Thankfully, Anthony seemed to have read your mind and was at your side as soon as he was able to fight through the jubilant throng. 

The moment he reach you he took your hand in his. His expression was a mixture of awe and contrition, clearly unsure what to say to you.

"Good game," he praised. "Simon better watch out - I think Her Majesty will be asking you to captain her team next year."

"What a tremendous idea, Lord Bridgerton. I may just do that."

As if summoned by the very mention of her, a voice rang out clearly from behind you. Without even turning you knew exactly who was standing behind you, as the throng suddenly fell silent around you and parted like the Red Sea. In all the excitement you had failed to notice the Royal party making their way across the field to join in the celebrations. 

With a gulp, you turned and dropped into the most respectful curtsey you could manage without falling flat on your face. "Y - your Majesty."

The Queen chuckled. "I must thank you, Lady Bridgerton, for providing such excitement to our proceedings today. I also must thank you for the twenty pounds I just procured off of Brimbsley - that’ll teach him to bet against me."

You merely dipped your head in gratitude, unsure whether this was actually happening or not. After all, the closest the you’d ever been to monarch was your hasty presentation several months ago and that had barely earned you more than a curious glance, like you had been some exotic animal on parade at the Zoo. And now, the Queen was addressing you? A lowly Stable Master’s daughter? 

It was enough to make you feel as if this was all some kind of surreal dream. 

"Anyone who bets against your Majesty deserves to be relieved of their coin."

"True, True," she preened, gesturing for you and everyone else to rise. "I gather you have played this game before?"

"Growing up around the Bridgertons ensured I had little alternative," you confirmed, relieved when the Queen proceeded to chuckle good-naturedly. 

"I dare say you didn’t, my dear. Well, it certainly makes for a rather entertaining afternoon, as well as a victorious one. Perhaps we aught to have women playing more often." She turned her head and chose to direct her next words directly to your husband. "You’ve chosen quite the bride, Lord Bridgerton - you are to be congratulated on choosing such a spirited partner. I hope you realise how lucky you are."

"Indeed, your Majesty," Anthony replied, the earnestness clear in his eyes. "I’ve realised just how truly unique and remarkable she is… and how lucky I am that she chose to be on my team, even if not on the cricket pitch."

Another round of laughter echoed out at his declaration but you knew it was more than just a jest. In fact, by the all-too-clear pride radiating off of the eldest Bridgerton you knew what he truly meant with his honeyed praise.  

It was all the apology you could need and had you not been in such company you’d have dragged him into the bushes and shown him just how much you forgave him. Besides, your victory on the Cricket pitch was enough pay-back for both of you. 

As if sensing the amorous tension steadily rising around her, the Queen chose that moment to make a well-timed departure, in search of a refreshment. She barely gave you all a final nod before marching off to greet the rest of her guests, leaving you stood there with a rather gobsmacked expression on your face. 

"Well… that really happened," you murmured, struggling to maintain your newfound confidence now that the whole saga had come to an end. "Did I actually just do that? Did the Queen actually just … talk to me?"

"She really did," Anthony confirmed, hands grazing yours nervously, as if unsure whether or not you’d accept his touch. However, your hands accepted his readily, fingers intertwining as you squeezed his palm in an obvious attempt to ground yourself. "You truly were incredible today - I know you don’t need to hear it but, for what it’s worth, I am proud of you." 

"Thank you."

"And I truly am sorry for being such a world class fool, last night," he continued swiftly, clearly keen to make his apology whilst you were willing to receive it. "I didn’t mean to make you feel as if I was embarrassed by you. I never could be. It couldn’t be further from the truth. I was vexed with my brothers and because of several other trivial matters, but I allowed my temper to get the better of me and I handled it poorly. I lashed out at the wrong person - the one person who deserves nothing less than to be told how incredible she is, every single day. I am unworthy of you, Y/N. I know no one else in the entire world so awe inspiring and to let you think otherwise for even a moment was my failing entirely. You are brave and smart and funny and kind and beautiful-"

"Ok, Anthony. I get it."

"-and I am unworthy of someone with such skill on the cricket pitch-"

"Anthony," you squealed, trying to hide your laughter as he pulled you into his arms and smothered your face in kisses. "It’s fine. I forgive you. After all, I also lost my temper and said some things I didn’t mean. Can we just agree we’re both sorry and put this mess behind us?"

"Yes! God yes," he sighed, looking like a weight had visibly lifted from his shoulder. "Because I really do not like fighting with you. Instead, I think we should be enjoying your victory parade. Today is your triumph, after all - the Queen’s champion." 

"Hmmm, I rather like that title," you purred, gazing up at him. "But between us? I prefer being your wife, much much more."

[tevaselmundogiraalreves]

Buddie fic recs:

I've been wanting to do my own list of my favorite fics for a while now so here it goes (in no particular order):

- my words are paper tigers by @hattalove (this ones my favorite of them and i'd say a little underrated maybe?) TIMELOOP TIMELOOP TIMELOOP - buck breaks up with eddie, the universe doesnt agree - ITS PERFECT I'VE READ IT FOR THE FIRST TIME SO LONG AGO AND ITS STILL ONE OF MY FAVORITES EVER.

- Actually, truly by MilenaDaniels Helena (and Ramon) tries to find a way back into Eddie's life and doesn't know what to make of finding Buck around every corner she turns. (Or: "Mom, listen.")

- burn the straw house down by rarakiplin - what to even say i think everyone has read this one already but just in case TIMELOOP TIMELOOP TIMELOOP

- Happy Little Accidents by @like-the-rest-of-la - one of the first au i ever read for buddie and i was so ENCHANTED what to even say, buck owns a plant nursery. Its just so soft and so so so beautiful.

- said i couldn't stay, but it's different now by @hattalove - another fave of them. Many weddings and buddie in the middle of it all.

- Close My Eyes and Stumble (Right Into Your Love) by HSMLusitania - i think everyone and their mother has read this one aswell but just in case EDDIE DISPATCHER.

- Burn a bridge, learn how to swim by Watermelonshots - this is a series and jesus christ it literally starts with a buddie drunk make out session so-

- Sit with me in the dark by @kitkatpancakestack - buck loses his vision- !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Soft and kind and yeah beautiful and buck glasses kink anyone?.

- Lifelines by @hetrez . This fic is literally a lifeline - buck and eddie meet during the tsunami and talk about being in the closet. I have no words for how much this fic meabs to me. FLAWLESS.

- about the present by @runawaymarbles - this is a series now and god this was so so fucking special and unique - the first part eddie in the aftermath of being in a timeloop of the shooting. The second one is buck handling it on his own way. PERFECTION. Still thinking about it.

- a good day to be by @hetrez Eddie is a dance instructor, buck needs dance clases for madneys wedding. As flawless as the other one. Eddie Diaz needs a hug yeah.

- we'll be forever, you'll see by rarakiplin - Eddie Diaz finds a cat and heals and heals. And is so loved. I think i cried the first time i finished this one.

- still by @gayhoediaz - once again i think everyone knows this one but just in case, eddie steps on a detonator. ANGSTS SO MUCH ANGSTS AND THAT ENDING YEAH.

- but i can see all along, love (it was you all the way down) by @captain-hen - eddie confesses his feelings, buck rejects him, TIMELOOP TIMELOOP TIMELOOP

- authentication by @vgreysoncellars - i think i described this one as a never ending extention of 7x06 like nights abd just pride and pride and liberation. Eddie picks guys in bars for buck to make out with...

- oh, come when you're called by @lesbianrobin CHRIS 💘 no other words needed i think

- i'm a cliché (who cares) by @cranberrymoons UFF THIS ONE MAKES ME SO EMOTIONAL - eddie realizes stuff and buck is there every step of the way.

- bark like you want it by @colonoscopys - SOULMATES AU so so funny and wholesome.

- the love triptych by @cranberrymoons - this ones just so freaking special to me. Helena trying and trying and trying cause she loves her son. And buddie together through it all.

- so much left in store by @lesbianrobin - UNI AU UNI AU UNI AU !!!!!!! AND VERY IMPORTANT BABY CHRIS💘

- hang me up on your bedroom wall by @eddiegettingshot WELL buck just wants (more) but only if eddie gets him pregnant about it... (infidelity fic)

- close ain't close enough (til we cross the line) by @cranberrymoons buddie sexting buddie sexting buddie sexting and being so so freaking insane and not normal about it. (Infidelity fic)

- throw a bone, i’m finally home by @shitouttabuck - i think everyone knows the like a dog verse by now (come on lol) but yeah i'm very very obsessed especially with the second part of it.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Holiday Spirit II

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: You go to Alexia's for Christmas

You felt small under Eli's heavy gaze.

It was like she was staring straight into your soul as Alexia pushed you in front of her, presenting you to her mother like you were some stray dog that she wanted to keep.

"Have you been feeding her?" Was the first thing she asked, thankfully, in English so you could understand her.

Alexia scoffed. "She's sixteen. She's capable of choosing her own food, Mami."

Eli didn't seem convinced, ushering you in through the door and pushing you into a chair in her dining room.

Food was already on the stove cooking and you couldn't quite believe it. Back at your parent's house, the days preceding Christmas were firmly a no-cooking zone. You lived off takeout and snacks for the days before and then your Mum would break out premade roast potatoes and a turkey that she could stick in the oven and forget about for hours.

"You are too skinny," Eli said to you, piling food onto your plate even though it was barely midday," You have no meat on your bones." She turned to glare at Alexia. "Are you not taking care of her?"

"We're taking very good care of her," Alexia insisted," She's just been a little silly when Lucy and Keira went home."

"You should move her in with you," Eli said, serving herself a generous helping," Are you not the captain?"

"Yes, Mami," Alexia said with a fond eye roll as she took a seat next to you and made her own plate.

The conversation happened around you and you were happy to stay silent, noting with some amusement that every time you ate, more food appeared before your plate could be cleared.

"Alexia," Eli said," Show her to the spare room. There are clean sheets already on the bed."

The room you ended up staying in was amazing. It had soft sheets and plump pillows and Alexia had to drag you up and out every day.

You met Alba too, who came into the house one evening in a blur of movement and too many shopping bags for one person to carry. She didn't seem confused at all to see you sitting at her mother's kitchen table, just rammed a chocolate biscuit into your mouth and patted your hair.

"Pictures, pictures," Eli said as she bustled around Christmas morning.

You had just gotten up, still rubbing at your eyes as Alba forced a knitted jumper onto your body and Alexia dragged you to stand in front of the fireplace.

You were still blinking the sleep from your eyes as you were made to smile wide from your spot in between your captain and her sister as Eli snapped several pictures on her phone, more on a professional camera and a few more on a Polaroid.

"Right," She said after the mini photoshoot was over," Presents now and then we're got the family coming over."

You rolled your eyes behind her back, settling into the armchair and pulling out your phone, texting an obligatory 'Merry Christmas' to most of your contacts list and shooting off a few messages to Lucy and Keira about how, yes, you were behaving yourself at Alexia's and, yes, you were looking forward to them coming back soon.

"What?" You asked when Alba ruffled your hair.

"Presents, idiot," She said though with no actual bite in her tone," Are you planning on hoarding them until next year? Where's your Christmas spirit?"

You gave her an odd look. "I'm pretty sure freeloaders don't get presents."

"Don't be stupid. You're probably Mami's favourite daughter. Open your presents before she realises."

In all honesty, you hadn't expected presents. You were happy enough with not spending Christmas alone, let alone receiving presents as well.

"I hope you like them," Eli said," If Alexia had given me more warning, I would have gotten you more."

You looked down at your little pile of presents. "I really like them," You said," You didn't have to."

"Oh but I did," Eli replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head," You just wait a few more days. I'll get you some more."

"I don't- And she's already gone."

Alexia ended up firmly attached to your side when her family came around, split between introducing you to everyone and making sure that you ate enough.

"You go and give Lucy and Keira a call," She said to you, nudging you back into what had quickly become your room," I told them that you would call. They've been worried."

"There's nothing to worry about."

"We always worry about you. Go on, off you go."

You rolled your eyes at her and dialled Lucy's number, pressing your phone to your ear.

It didn't even have to ring once before Lucy picked up.

"Finally!" She said," Keira, it's y/n! Hey, I was waiting for you to call. How's Alexia's? Is everything going well?"

"Yeah," You replied, sitting down on your bed and leaning up against your stack of pillows," It's been good. She's got family round right now."

"Hi, y/n," Keira said as she approached the call," I'm glad that you're having a good Christmas. We're missing you here in England."

You rolled your eyes even though you knew she couldn't see you. "You're probably the only ones."

"You should come back with us next year," Lucy said," Keira's got an Indian being delivered. How weird is that? What's wrong with a good old roastie?"

"I don't know," You laughed," I'm getting a bit sick of them. Alexia's mum has been cooking all the time. I don't think I'm going to pass the fitness tests when we get back from break."

You heard Keira laugh. "Good. Then at least some of us will go back to regular game time while you recover."

"Oh, ha, ha," You said sarcastically," Really getting into the Christmas spirit there, Keira. Looks like you're in a real giving mood."

"Watch it," Keira said with a little giggle," Or else I'll rescind Lucy's offer of coming home with us."

"Oh no," You said dramatically," How will I survive?"

You stayed on the phone with both of them for a while, so long in fact that various members of Alexia's family came in to say goodbye to you before they left for the night.

"All cleared up with Keira and Lucy?" Alexia asked as she leaned up against your door frame.

"All good," You confirmed.

"Good." She sat down next to you on bed and tucked you under her arm. "This has been a good day, huh? I think you should come home with me every year."

"Sorry, but I'm pretty sure Lucy and Keira get custody of me next year."

"We'll see."

[alicerosejensen]

OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH

I JUST HAD A CUTE LITTLE SCENARIO IDEA. It is about vendetta! leon and young(20’s) reader series! What about reader sitting on the bathrooms counter/vanity while helping Leon shave? His hands are resting on readers tighs or around her waist as he watches her focused eyes. I THINK THAT WOULD BE ADORABLE PLS.

And i don’t think this counts as an ask, but if you’ll want to do something with this im not complainig hahah 👁👁

Warning: Fluff, mention of injuries, age difference (implied but not mentioned), Leon!Vendetta, Leon gets taken care of (this man needs a little love and devotion); talking about nothing.

I'm sorry, I'm too lazy. I write slowly and because of some eternally tired condition

Coming back to you after so many weeks of silence was wrong, or at least unfair. To tell the truth, Leon did not feel that he should have done it at all, the doctor recommended bed rest, but it was all the same. It was not the first time he had been thrown like a rag doll, although this time he felt like he was on the edge, dangerously balancing between life and death, when Aris's claws almost pierced his flesh. At least Leon thought he was going to die thinking about you- the only good thing in his life in recent years.

He wasn't even sure if you would let him in, but when he broke out of the dark tunnel, the whole flight he thought only about how nice it was to return to the person who, for some reason, cared about him. You weren't his wife, you weren't his work partner, you were just a girl. The girl he was afraid to fall in love with because he always thought that this love would hurt you. Although it seems that only one was injured, and it was Leon himself, who came up with stupid rules for himself to protect you.

And here he is, you look at him without any malice, although it would be worth it. Leon really doesn't think he has the right to show up like this without an invitation, but he does, looking into your eyes with a guilty look, hoping that you won't drive him away and let him lick his wounds while he lets you love him tenderly.

"Come in," you nod head, letting him into your tiny apartment, in which Leon felt better than at home.

Although it looked more like a lone wolf's lair. It was much more comfortable and even somehow warmer with you.

Taking a step, Leon feels not like a government dog, but an ordinary person who is taken by the hand and let into a small corner of paradise. Maybe it will last a day, two or a week, but he will be a little happy and loved.

"Should I heat up your dinner?" You ask casually, as if he wasn't ignoring you and running away to drown his problems in alcohol. "Leon?"

"No, I'm not hungry."

"Coffee?" Again you offer him, but he just shakes his head negatively as he sits down on the chair in front of you.

"No"

Maybe you think he came here to end all the little things that were between you, but no. He just needs you as a salvation, otherwise his head will drown in regret.

All Leon wants is for his fight not to be in vain, but every time someone else takes the place of the bad guy, and corporations continue to create viruses that turn people into bioweapons. He runs his hand over his face, feeling the annoying stubble under his palm that should have been shaved off, but having drowned in alcohol, he didn’t want to do anything.

“I just,” he looks at you with a hazy look but completely sober, “Can I stay here? With you?”

Who are you to refuse him? But be honest with yourself, you want him to stay here, especially since his beaten appearance really said that he was better off not being alone. Under the T-shirt, bruises and abrasions on the face and arms and what appears to be a dislocated shoulder are visible. In any case, wanted to believe that Leon didn’t break any bones.

"You know that my answer is yes"

Leon doesn't smile. Just eternally grateful that he won't have to sit in his dark, lonely apartment lying on his bed again after taking a strong painkiller.

He sleeps well with you, he doesn't have nightmares, and he's just comfortable here. You can turn on the TV, watch an old movie with you and lie quietly, knowing that he will not be called anywhere until he recovers. There was work left in New York for B.S.A.A and TerraSave, but not for him, besides, he didn't take a shower before coming to you, fortunately you had some of his things, including a spare toothbrush and a new disposable razor.

And that was the problem. The problem with his shoulder, which you kept looking at without stopping, as if he had grown a third arm.

“Working moments,” Leon muttered, feeling that he really wouldn’t refuse your dinner. “Can I ask you something else?"

“Yeah, sure.” You really never refused him.

Arias threw him against the wall, clearly sparing no effort, but thanks to the adrenaline, Leon didn’t feel much pain and was able to maneuver and attack this crazy bastard. The truth is that falling from a motorcycle does not benefit his body, which is why when everything calmed down, Leon realized that it was simply difficult for him to pick up the very razor that was now in your hands and do such a simple job as shaving.

“Just stay still, or better yet, sit down,” you said loudly, seeing that Leon didn’t like the touch on his neck when you tried to cover him with shaving foam.

It was already like instinct when they touched his neck. Leon immediately jerked to the side when he felt someone else's palm on his skin, as if the touch caused him pain. He never talked about how often he was grabbed by the throat, but from his reaction one could guess that this was a sensitive area that he did not like to trust to anyone but himself.

“I can’t shave you if you twitch like a little kid who doesn’t want to wash his face,” you joked, using your finger to spread the shaving foam you had on your hand onto the tip of his nose.

"Just...a reflex"

You thought about it, biting your lip, but Leon just exhaled, gathering his strength, knowing that you weren't going to kill him. He trusted you, so he calmly sat down on a small chair, putting his hands on your waist, trying to relax.

You saw how tense his muscles were, as if at any moment he was ready to make a jerk, his fingers squeezed the fabric of your tank top while you distributed foam over his face, trying not to overuse the product at the site of his abrasions that have not yet healed. When that was done, the razor in your hands gently touched the skin of his neck and gently shaved off excess hair from his face with smooth movements against the coarse hairs.

Carefully avoiding all the cuts, you managed not to hurt him. Step by step, you constantly rinsed the razor to remove all the hairs from it and walk it over the places where the stubble still remained. The most difficult thing for Leon was his neck - he felt too exposed and vulnerable, but when it was over and you moved to another zone, it seemed to you that he even exhaled.

In the end, getting carried away with the case, you didn't even notice how Leon was gradually able to relax and carefully watched your movements, finding you charming when you are so focused only on him. Maybe it's a little selfish, but for him you look so beautiful that he thinks about asking you to shave him again in a week when the stubble grows back, just to watch you take care of him again.

It took you a few minutes to catch his eye when you were completely done. The blue eyes stared at you with such attention that for a second you might have thought that something interesting was written on your face since he was looking at you like that. It's a little awkward and you look at him in response, stupidly blinking your eyes when you wipe his face with a towel, which makes a smile bloom on your lips and you look away.

"What's funny?"

To be honest, there really wasn't anything funny, it was just embarrassing for you.

"Did you leave me something like a mustache?" He joked and you burst out laughing

"Good idea! I'll do it next time."

Leon chuckled, because as a temporary joke, you could do that. That's just the accumulated fatigue that fell like a heavy boulder on him did not allow him to rejoice as much as you do.

"You're obviously going to amuse Chris," He sighed. You threw the razor into the sink and froze for a moment when you felt his head pressed against your stomach, relaxing in layers as you run your fingers through his hair "Thank you"

"No problem," you kissed the top of his head, helping him stand up, noticing how he hisses from the pain in his back when he straightens up.

"Fuck." Leon hisses in pain, catching his breath, realizing that maybe he should drink more painkillers and let a loved one take care of him. "I think I'm catching up with my age"

"Maybe. But I think you should rest and follow the doctor's recommendations at least until you stop needing painkillers."

"Until the next mission, you mean?"

You didn't say anything because you didn't know much about his work. After laying Leon on the bed, he finally exhaled with relief after looking at you with secret gratitude. Literally the only person who gives him warmth and comfort, and maybe he should come to you instead of washing down his bitterness in a bar. Thinking about it, Leon even thought that if he had stayed with you, he would not be suffering from his injuries now, however… What would have happened to Chris and Rebecca? But it's too late to regret what happened. He's alive and he's with you now. He lies in your bed listening to the usual chatter while the TV is on in the background and you settle down next to him bringing an extra blanket and pillow.

In the end, you just plopped down next to him, thoughtfully looking at the picture on the TV, pulling the blanket over yourself. Leon moved a little closer to you, hugging you around the waist, nuzzling your cheek, covering his eyes from fatigue. Of course you knew that he works for the government, but never what he does specifically. You saw the "DSO" marking on his gun, but you were afraid to ask him about it, although the fact that Leon has the right to carry and store weapons freely already hinted that he does not work in some average position and his injuries… one is worse than the other.

It is difficult to unravel the thoughts of this person, especially when he is completely immersed in himself. You know that he has some problems with alcohol and a couple of times you even quarreled about it, after which Leon always apologized by coming to you with flowers and other gifts. You turn off the light in the room, turning to him, meeting the tired gaze of blue eyes.

"Thank you. I rarely say this, but I'm grateful for everything you do for me."

"I know."

"Maybe you should find a better guy than me, but" he snuggled even closer and there was fear in his words, as if you could make him leave right now, "but I want to be with you. I can't lead a normal life, but being here with you feels like I'm becoming normal. Who he was before September 30, 1998"

"And what happened on September 30th?" you ask, putting your hand on his palm, smiling, and immediately see how noticeably even in the dark his face changes, becoming more gloomy.

"My first day working as a cop. I overslept and was late for my first day at work"

He could have said a lot and revealed his soul to you without fear if he hadn't been bound by the government. Raccoon City is classified information, and even no matter how much he values you, you shouldn't know anything about it. Fortunately, you do not pry into the truth, leaving his personal border untouched, and for this Leon is infinitely grateful. Maybe in a couple of weeks, when his injuries stop being so painful and his condition improves, he'll even laugh at what kind of mustache you made for him while shaving him again. He will really be happy and he will not need alcohol in this.

[thrandilf]

Hi everyone! I'm strangefake on AO3 and this is a little post of all of my sfw lmk stuff (so far!). Here's the list, only one was written after S5 came out (All the Small Things) and none of the others have spoilers, though some really fit the post S5 mood. I hope you enjoy if anything catches your eye! <3

General/Not Ship Focused:

What Kind of Memory Am I? MK POV. Sunburst Duo. MK and Wukong talk post S4. “In that scroll, in all of those memories, those lifetimes of mistakes- was I one of them?” MK was afraid of the answer. “One of your mistakes?”

Guilt "Complex?" I Find It Quite Simple Red Son POV. Inspired by Callum's "I need you to kill me" moment in TDP, MK panics about Monkey Form. The two people he calls up- Macaque and Red Son- are far from the sort one would associate with comfort and emotional intelligence, but they try their best. Hurt and comfort with heavy mental health/angst, but on par with S5.

Hair Bones Red Son POV. Traffic Light Trio has a sleepover at MK's house post S4 with a focus on comforting MK with a dash of goofiness. Background Dragonfruit.

Harmonize the Wild Energies Within Red Son POV. Past Red Son and Princess Iron Fan training in the earlier days of him mastering his powers hundreds of years ago.

(NEW!) Given, Not Earned Macaque POV. SoySauce Duo. To Macaque's surprise, MK requests a sleepover with him Post Season 5, saying he wants to learn a new power. Literal fluff and then typical MK angst. Minor Wukong appearances.

Shadowpeach:

All the Small Things Macaque POV. Takes place during S5 E1 if the episode had lasted longer, mostly fluff and island monkeys.

Kintsugi Wukong POV. Bittersweet Shadowpeach with a hopeful ending, written post S4 but emotionally works post S5 too. There was little use asking what specific memory was bothering Macaque. One, it was obvious, and two, it didn’t matter. Every thread that tied them together always looped back to encompass it all.

Break the Cycle Wukong POV. Post S4, Wukong and Macaque have a romantically charged fight while Wukong stays at Macaque's place. Rated T.

(NEW!) Intimidation Check: Natural 1 Wukong POV. Macaque gets the idea to try roleplaying in bed, but his theatrics combined with Wukong's personality means they don't get anywhere. Comedy fic.

(NEW!) Sun Poisoning Macaque POV. Technically a SixNine (Macaque/Xiangliu) fic with Shadowpeach angst too.

Freenoodles:

Infinite Noodle Glitch Tang POV. Just as it sounds, Tang hatches a plan to get as many noodles as possible. Established relationship.

Dragonfruit:

Complimentary Colors Red Son POV. Apollo dealt me a glancing hit with the dodgeball: Red Son calls Mei over after a mysterious fireproof dog breaks into his house to help handle it. Featuring dog sitting shenanigans and first kisses, this fic was the first LMK fic I ever wrote and has art by @imminent-danger-came

Down Bad Red Son POV. MK runs into Red Son at the mall and catches him buying a green dragon plushie- for himself? Red Son gets the courage up to confess his feelings to Mei- but there's a twist.

[ddejavvu]

Congrats on 20k!! 'Finger lickin' good'--Can I get Steve Harrington, smitten and taking an equally smitten reader home from a party? Could it even get a little spicy 👀?

join my 20K celebration!

'it's finger lickin' good.' - send me a request for a baby blurb! give me a character, and a plotline, and i'll write you a little fanfiction :)

baby i'm sorry i had a vision for this and then it veered completely off course! it's still the same general plotline but it's a lot more giggly than it is sexy and i'm sorry about that </3 i hope you still enjoy!

--

You nearly giggle yourselves off of the steps of the porch, landing hard on your feet so that your ankles ache for a second. Steve sways into you, his arm around your shoulders as he drops his empty cup on the lawn.

"Steve! Litterbug," You accuse, and he snorts like it's the funniest thing in the world.

"This is Andy's house," He explains, like that makes it okay to throw trash on the ground, "He deserves it."

"Is that your car?" You point at the first one you see, and he shakes his head.

"No, mine's red."

"That one?" You point at the next red one down the street, but he reacts the same.

"No, I'm in a beamer."

"Is that... that one?" You point across the street, at a brown car that's parked in a house's driveway. Steve isn't sure why you think it's his, it's not a BMW and it's not red, but it strikes his funny bone again, and he laughs higher-pitched than normal.

"No," He pinches your side, and you shriek, nearly collapsing into his hold. He catches you, and it's all the more funny now, meaning you're stumbling down the sidewalk trying not to tip into the street.

"I'm down there," He points behind you two, then seems to realize, "Wait- we're- we're going the wrong way."

You have to sit down to stop yourself from falling over with laughter. Everything is funnier after four full cups of jungle juice, and you clutch at Steve's ankle as you feel a tear escape your eye.

"Shut up!' He urges, swatting gently at your head, "Don't- don't laugh! You didn't know either."

"I want- I want you to carry me, Stevie~," You croon, giggling up at him with tear-lined eyes from how hard you've been struck by the situation, "Please? I might fall down."

"What-? I'm drunk," He grumbles, like you don't know it, "Okay, just don't- don't fall, okay?"

"Okay." You nod, letting him wrestle you into his grip. It's hard not being in complete control of all of your limbs, but you manage to get your uncoordinated arms wrapped around his neck, and your legs around his waist.

Steve starts back down the road towards his car, but evidently you'd strayed too far down the street for the neighbor's dog's liking, and he manages to slip through a gap in the fence to head for Steve.

At first, you think he might be territorial and angry. You yelp, tightening your grip around Steve and trying to hoist yourself up his torso. But Steve scrambles to balance the both of you while also darting away from the animal, and it means his hands land directly on your ass. You don't admonish him, because you really don't care, and the dog is still trotting your way.

Upon a second glance, he's relaxed, merely curious as to why there's so many people in the house next door. You decide you want to pet him, though, and you lean over Steve's shoulder to do so. It means that your ass is in his face, and the skirt you'd elected to wear is giving him quite the show.

"Puppy!" You coo, reaching eagerly for the dog that leans into your hands with several giddy wags of its tail. Steve's having the hardest time keeping the two of you steady while also being considerate enough not to ogle the thin strip of fabric just barely covering your butt beneath your skirt, and he's sure you can feel how flushed his cheeks are from how one presses into the left side of your ass.

"Steve," You laugh, as the dog licks the palm of your hand, "He's friendly! Pet him with me, please?"

"Honey, I can't," Steve grits his teeth as you lean further towards the animal, nearly pitching yourself off of his shoulder, "Can you- can you stand up?"

"No, I'm okay!" You report happily, like he was asking for your comfort's sake, "Keep going, Stevie! Let's see if we can lure him into the car."

"He's not yours, is he?" Steve muses, trekking down the street with more difficulty than he'd like to admit. A pair of guys pass the two of you, and he nearly drops you in trying to smooth your skirt down to a reasonable length so that they can't stare.

"He will be once we get him in the car, c'mon, puppy!" You kiss at the animal, speaking to Steve in your normal voice afterwards, "Finders keepers, Stevie. Oh, but you have to keep him at your house. My parents don't like dogs."

"Oh, really?" He's panting slightly as he sets you down with your back against the window of his car, and he finally gets a good look at the yellow lab you're lured away from his home. He looks happy to be there, eagerly accepting a pat on the head from Steve.

"Yeah. And- um, do you know how to get to my house? I forgot."

"No," He breathes, "You'll remember tomorrow. You said you'd come to mine, remember?"

"Oh, yeah!" You brighten, "But I don't know the way to your house, either."

"I do," He laughs, scratching the dog behind the ears when it noses at his fingers. But he sends him off with a pat to the side, "'Kay, g'home, dog. Let's go, okay?"

"But- my puppy!" You watch aghast as the dog follows orders, tucking his head down towards the ground and trotting back home, "Steve, you're mean."

"It's not- no I'm not!" He urges, "That's not your dog!"

"I wanted him to be," You lament, "Can we stop by the animal shelter on the way home? I wanna get a dog."

"You said-" Steve can't quite remember what you said, actually, he just knows there's a reason why that won't work, "Uh- sure. Yeah, but they're- I think they're closed."

"Tomorrow?" You ask hopefully, and he nods, completely on board with whatever will make the slight pout to your lips disappear.

"Yeah, tomorrow," He unlocks his door, popping the lock on your own side up just after, "Just hop in, we'll do whatever you want, babe."

[yutasbellybuttonpiercing]

What's x in the equation of love?

pairing: huang renjun x reader

au/genre: humor, fluff, a tiny bit of angst, slice of life...?, a bit suggestive, college!au, roommate!yangyang

word count: 7053 words

warnings: cursing ☝🏻, yangyang, bad jokes, i really have no idea what this is, but i find it funny, personally, maths, sex jokes, yangyang is... a bit of an ick, one (1) smooch, fast paced ending because i don't know how to finish stories

synopsis: yangyang decides that you need a tutor, he can't take your whining anymore. hence, you're set up to meet the most perfect man you've ever seen. things tend to become more complicated than they have to be.

a/n: why do i always make my supporting characters so disgusting?

a/n 2: holy shit this took so long, but finally!! the strangers to lovers collection is finished! also, this is my first time not writing smut... which was... weird? but refreshing? i hope you enjoy it anyway... even though no one is boneing...

"I can't do this anymore," you sigh, dropping your pencil onto the squared paper in front of you before letting your head thumb loudly against the tabletop. The sound inevitably startles – first and foremost, but not limited to – your best friend, roommate and study partner Yangyang.

It's not like you're bad at studying. It's just that you somehow managed to slack off on a few courses and now your timetable is filled to the brim with seminars and lectures from different semesters, and it's honestly getting a little too much at this point.

"Maths?" Yangyang finally pipes up after watching your motionless figure hunched over one of the many desks in your university's library, staring blankly ahead into nothingness. As an answer, you just sigh again, sitting up and leaning back in your chair. "Why don't you get a tutor?"

"You're my tutor."

"Listen, I love you – platonically – but if you want me to tutor you in maths, we're going to have a problem," Yangyang motions between you and him with his pen while raising his eyebrows, "because I know less than you do."

"I can't believe you're doing this to me," you whine, maybe a notch too loudly because a whole bunch of heads are harshly turned into your direction, several squinted eyes bore into your body from different angles with death glares, and someone even builds up the courage to 'shh' across the room.

"Not knowing maths?"

"Yes!" You throw your hands up, looking at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world. In response, Yangyang just grins, displaying his cute smile before he nudges your shoulder gently. You sigh. "I think I'm going to start crying."

"Please don't, that's cringe. I'll help you find a tutor, alright?"

A few weeks passed since your disastrous study session in the library (definitely not the first nor the last one of those) and in the meantime, Yangyang helped you put up flyers around campus looking for a tutor. Putting your phone number onto the sheet had probably been your first mistake since about half of the calls you got were pervs who, accompanied by a dirty laugh, asked if you needed to be tutored in "sexology". The other half had been a great mixture, a bit of everything, going from 4 invitations to 4 different "best parties ever" to heavy breathing into your ear (which you endured for a solid minute before hanging up to cry into your pillow).

Admittedly, there had been a few serious offers, but somehow they were not good enough for you, either too young, too old, too loud, too fast paced with trying to teach you the content, too this, too that, blah blah blah. Maybe you are just too picky, but would you admit that to Yangyang? Not in this life.

"What's wrong with him?" Yangyang asks as soon as he closes the door behind him, coming home to yet another person leaving your shared apartment with fast and angry steps, and an unreadable, but definitely not happy expression on their face.

"He has a dog."

"So?"

"I'm a cat person."

"With all due respect, but what the fuck?" Yangyang lets his bag drop to the floor so he can motion around with his hands weirdly. "You know you're not supposed to go to the pet shop with them, but let them teach you algebra, right?"

"I know, but trust me. He wasn't good enough for the job." You pout, strolling into the kitchen to make yourself something to eat which in this case means opening a bag of chips and sit down in front of the television to procrastinate and try to forget about the workload and unopened books on your desk that are slowly but surely collecting dust and/or growing mold.

"Could it be that, i don't know, you hypothetically just don't want to get tutored?" Yangyang catches up with you after taking off his shoes at the front door, looking at you accusingly which you only realize after turning your head to send him a sulky look.

"Maybe," you admit and just a second after, Yangyang slaps the back of your head tauntingly which causes you to whine. "What was that for?"

"You can't keep doing this. The next person that's offering to help you, you're going to take. If I hear another 'I can't do this anymore'" – he mocks your signature phrase with a higher pitched voice and odd body movements that remind you of a ship during dangerously harsh motion of the sea – "at 3am, I will move out."

You frown at him, an unuttered blinking battle happening between the two of you before you purse your lips in defeat. "Fine."

"... and I have just the guy in mind."

The guy in mind is no other than Huang Renjun, apparently, as you learn just a day later. Too bad that this information does nothing for you since, honestly, you'd never heard of him before. But hearing nothing about someone means that they can't be that bad, right?

That's what you keep telling yourself on your way to one of your favorite cafés where you're about the meet Yangyang and this Renjun guy in just a few minutes. It's sweet of Yangyang that he wants to help you find a tutor, but honestly, you would have preferred to wallow in self-pity for a couple more days, maybe longer, maybe forever and become a stripper instead.

Studying had always been hard for you, it's not that you're particularly stupid, you just have to realize over and over again that there are many things in this world that are way more interesting, that you'd much rather do than to study.

But maybe this is what you need, a final push into taking care of your life by a dear friend.

Finally, you arrive at your destination, ordering your drink before texting Yangyang a quick message asking about his whereabouts, decorated with an annoyed emoji. The answer comes sadly not in text form as you'd hoped, like something along the lines of "Can't make it, sorry, Renjun is busy" but no. Instead, you hear your name being called and as you look up, there's a particular blonde haired guy waving frantically at you from across the café.

You huff out a breath before moving forward, keeping your eyes to the ground as you make your way towards their table. Maybe, just maybe, you had dreaded this particular meet up and had therefore taken the longer route, and maybe you're a little late.

"Glad you could make it!" Yangyang greets with a fake smile.

"Shut up," you mumble as you sit down next to him, eyes glued to your cup as to not spill any of the liquid on your hands. Or maybe you should let it, it would make a great excuse to leave immediately.

"I'm Renjun!"

God, fuck.

You clutch your chest with your hand, admittedly over-dramatically. You had almost forgotten about him. Quickly, you collect yourself and look up at him, opening your mouth ready to introduce yourself too, but all that comes out is a weird, stertorous breath because holy shit, this guy's- handsome? Pretty? Beautiful? Perfect???

With a worried expression, Yangyang pads your back, probably already imagining you saying that Renjun could not tutor you because his perfume smells too strong, when in reality you'd kill – twice – to only get one tiny whiff of this man's fragrance.

Finally, you have grounded yourself, given Renjun your name and avoided shaking his hand successfully because he does not have to know how sweaty your palms are. Lucky for you, Yangyang remembers an insanely interesting topic that he has to talk to Renjun about, giving you the time and opportunity to study Renjun's face and everything else about him that is exposed to your eyes above the tabletop.

The first eye catcher would be his two toned hair that gently curls around his cheeks, framing it as if his face is a beautiful painting, which in your opinion, it certainly is. Next, you focus on his eyes that still seem to sparkle, even in the shitty light of the cheap café. He also has extremely beautiful lips, so slender, but at the same time so plush and full, so incredibly kissable. And his big nose...

A sudden shadow comes into your line of view, quickly followed by a quick, stinging pain as Yangyang pinches your nose to get your attention.

"What?!" You exclaim, holding onto your nose to, honestly, feel if it's still there as you look at Yangyang with squinted eyes full of annoyance.

"I've asked you something, like, three times." Yangyang chuckles as he pinches your earlobe next. "Did you space out again thinking about the amount of liquid a bladder can hold?"

"That is an embarrassing piece of information that I would have preferred to stay between the two of us." You grit your teeth as you glare at Yangyang. "And stop pinching me!" You hit Yangyang's hand as he reaches out to pinch your cheek next.

Yangyang laughs, "I'm sorry, it was my fault for occupying your study date for so long. I'll be on my way now. Have fun, but not too much fun since this is only maths and it would be weird if you had fun."

And with that, Yangyang disappears, completely ignoring your pleading puppy-eyes as he grabs his bag and waves, almost bumping into the waitress on his way out, apologizing profoundly before smirking, and asking for her number.

Now, it's just the two of you alone and with every second that Yangyang's gone the awkward silence thickens and your death wish upon Yangyang grows.

"So, uhm." Renjun clears his throat, sorting through his papers quickly before placing them down again in the initial order. "Yangyang sent me the topics of your maths course for this semester so I've brought some material."

You nod, finding it particularly hard to focus on anything but Renjun's perfect eyebrows, which is also the reason you can't really appreciate or be surprised that Yangyang actually put this much effort into something for little old you.

"I would like to make a plan, like repeating study dates, and I'd love to discuss the topics of each lesson right now so we're prepared. We can time it with your lectures and go over the stuff beforehand so you're prepared for each lecture. I mean, if that's something you want?" Renjun looks up from his notes, his eyes directly meeting yours and you feel yourself melt.

"Yes, of course." You're surprised that you managed to bring out actual words and not just a needy whine because... anything with you is something I'd want. You can do anything with me. Anything.

Anything.

"Great!"

And just like that, you're diving head first into your first study session with Renjun and you have to admit, he is incredibly smart and great at explaining, and, as long as you don't look at him directly or for too long, you believe he could really help you with your maths problems.

An hour later, you part ways, half bowing, half waving at each other, both still too new to the situation to be able to define your relationship and therefore agree on a proper way of saying goodbye, but so be it. The inner shame you're feeling about your awkward goodbye will hopefully subside in the next few hours. Or days. As soon as you turn the corner you bump into someone.

After an exaggerated intake of air, you glare at him. "Don't tell me you were waiting here this whole time."

"Brought my Nintendo." Yangyang smiles, waving the device in front of your face.

"Still weird."

"Did you really expect me to miss the first opportunity in my life of you telling me that I was right?" Yangyang beams confidently and as much as you fight it, a smile creeps onto your features as well because, yes, he had been right, Renjun is perfect at tutoring as well as every other aspect you've seen so far.

"He has a what?!"

"A girlfriend," Yangyang repeats, but it's so muffled by the food stuffed into his mouth that you believe you misheard him again. Or maybe that's just you hoping.

"A what?"

"Girlfriend."

"What?"

"GIRLFRIEND!!"

"And that's why he can't tutor me?!"

Yangyang swallows before answering this time and you're thankful for that. "Apparently. He just told me to tell you."

On the outside, you may have looked normal in this moment, just staring at Yangyang with an indifferent look on your face, but on the inside? It's like a whole world crushing down behind your eyes. In your head, there are at least 20 different little 'you's running around screaming and waving their arms around frantically, everything is one fire, in the distance: sirens. Why had no one mentioned Renjun's girlfriend before? You could've spend the past nights planning scenarios in your head about marrying him as you fell asleep doing something... something else! Something with a perspective, at least.

Of course, Renjun has a girlfriend. Honestly, you'd have been surprised if he didn't have one, but it still kind of stung right there in your chest, all your little fantasies that you've made up during movie nights with Yangyang vaporizing into thin air at the thought that he already is someone's.

"Why do you seem so upset by this? Could it be that you, i don't know, mayhaps like him?" Yangyang smirks, dropping his chopsticks to fold his hands under his chin, leaning his elbows onto the table to smirk at you.

"No." You stare back at him without a hint of emotion on your features. "I just need him to tutor me."

Yangyang sighs, picking his chopsticks back up, seemingly disappointed by the lack of crush you pretend to have on Renjun. There are not too many things you're good at, but hiding your feelings is one of them.

"Is something wrong?" Renjun finally asks you.

You've been sitting at your dining table for quite some time now and all you did so far was sulkingly pout and not look him in the eyes. Remember when you said that you're good at hiding your feelings? Scratch that when it comes to Renjun.

Renjun looks at you worriedly, clicking his pen thrice before putting it down on his book, your eyes following his every movement until you finally look up into his eyes. "Are you mad because I raised my voice when I told you to take the square root for the n-th time? Because if-"

"No, it's not that. There's just a lot on my mind lately." You sigh, eyes going back to the sheet of paper in front of you as you fiddle around with your pen almost nervously.

"You can always talk to me, you know?" Renjun finally says after you've been pretending to work on your task for quite some time. You raise your eyebrows simultaneously with your head to look at him in disbelief. "If you want to, of course..."

"I don't think your girlfriend would appreciate that..." You mumble, hoping he would not hear it, but apparently, Renjun's ears are extraordinarily intact and a tiny smile tucks at the corners of his mouth. You watch him as he leans back in his chair, closing his book to symbolize the ending of this study session, though his pen is still stuck in between the pages, bulging through the thin pages and the wobbly cover.

Renjun sighs, seemingly in deep thought about what to tell you next and a tiny wave of anxiety washes over you at the thought that maybe you've just given away your slowly but surely forming crush on him, and scared him away.

"I don't-" Renjun takes a deep breath, "I don't care what she thinks."

Your eyebrows shoot upwards at the speed of light. Out of all the possible answers in this scenario, this would've been your last guess. What's that even supposed to mean? Your surprise at his words seem to be showing on your face since Renjun leans forward onto his forearms, minimizing the space in between the two of you.

"Look..." He begins, but seems to be in trouble about how to put his situation into words. "Let's just say, it's not going too well. Let's leave it at that."

You nod understandingly, briefly licking over your lower lip, averting your eyes away from his form. To say you're not curious would be a lie, though you respect his wish to leave it at that, silently sorting your things as Renjun stuffs his own into his backpack. "I'll walk you out."

The next study session has you biting your nails in nervousness. Renjun seems to be in an exceptionally bad mood today, and he has no problem raising his voice at you every time you make an unnecessary mistake. You try your best to ignore the way that's making you feel, given the mood he's in, but you try to remember that feeling for the next time you're alone.

"What's up with you today?"

Renjun huffs, leaning back in his chair to fiddle with his fingers in his lap. He looks kind of cute like that, you have to admit, but you keep that thought to yourself for obvious reasons, instead taking a sip of your water to hide the small smile forming on your face.

"We broke up."

You spit the water out all over the table, wetting a few of your work sheets in the process. Renjun, unfazed by your sudden fountain imitation, just sighs, eyes trained on his hands as you try to dry all of the wet stains on the wooden and papery surfaces with tissues.

"It's not like I'm not glad about the decision, it's just that... I was so used to her presence in my life," Renjun continues as if you didn't just spit a few droplets onto his pants, "the circumstances for our break-up were also... unfortunate."

"I'm so sorry," you say, a squelching flapping sound of the soaked glob of tissues hitting the ground next to the garbage can accompanying your words as you reach out to gently pad his forearm. You notice the way his eyes focus on the exact spot where you touch him.

Quickly, you retort your hand, suddenly feeling like that had just been the worst decision of your life, but Renjun grabs your wrist before you pull it out of his reach. "It's okay, you can touch me."

You don't want to admit to the rush of warmth spreading over your body at his words, not even to yourself. It's embarrassing, he didn't even mean it like that, but it still gets you all hot and bothered. There are just many, many places and occasions where you'd like to touch him.

"There's no one to stop you," Renjun adds, chuckling gently as he refers to his now ex girlfriend and obviously himself. It seems like your silence didn't go unnoticed by him.

"May I ask... what happened?"

Renjun blinks at you, and for a split second, you believe asking was a mistake. But then, he answers, "It's been... not going well for a while now. We're too different, and I honestly fell out of love with her a long time ago. Plus-"

Renjun halts for a moment, before he continues, "there's someone that... made me realize that there are still many other good options out there."

"Ah, really?" You chuckle awkwardly. You're aware that if your friends were here right now, they'd all nudge your sides with their elbows, grinning widely in belief he's talking about you. You, on the other hand, are not so sure about that.

"I only met this person a few weeks ago, but I feel like... there's a connection. I mean, I don't know what it is, but I'm insanely attracted to- that person." Renjun scratches the back of his head, eyes locking with yours as if he's waiting for you to say something.

"I- can relate," you try.

"What if-" Renjun starts, but then begins shaking his head, "never mind."

You don't see Renjun for a few weeks. Every time, it's either you or him who has to cancel the meeting due to personal reasons. Yangyang is the one accompanying you during your solo study sessions, tapping away on his phone as you massage your temples with such force that you're surprised the you haven't rubbed any holes into your skull yet.

"Why isn't he coming today?" Yangyang pipes up, putting his phone onto the table with the screen facing down. You sigh so heavily and dramatically that Yangyang raises an eyebrow. You throw your pencil onto the wooden surface so hard that it rolls over the expanse of the table until it falls to the ground at the opposite end.

"I don't know," you say through gritted teeth, throwing Yangyang a stern look like he's a bird that just took a fat dump right onto the wind shield of your new car.

"Woah," Yangyang throws his hands up intermediately, mouth agape in fake offense, "no need to lash out on me like that, I'm not occupying your sexy tutor right now."

"Why are you calling him that?" You gasp.

"Because that's what you think he is," Yangyang states, nodding with a smile on his face. You sigh.

"I mean, he's not ugly," you reason, but that statement is enough for Yangyang to pull out his folder almost spilling over with collages and collections of white dresses, suits, napkins and bouquets to plan your wedding. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

"I think he wants you too," Yangyang sighs dreamily, folding his hands underneath his chin to rest it on top.

"Calm down, cupid, he just broke up with his girlfriend."

"For you," Yangyang sing-songs, dragging out the words as he finger-guns at you, "now we just need a plan to get you two to- you know," Yangyang motions with his hands and you're not completely sure whether he's trying to symbolize intercourse or solving an invisible Rubix cube.

"No."

"Yes!" Yangyang gasps offendedly.

"No! I need him to tutor me! Even if, hypothetically, he was madly in love with me," – you scoff to hide a forming grin – "I need his help! The exam is in just under a week, and neither him nor I can get distracted during these times of terror!"

Yangyang just watches you doubtfully.

"Believe me, it's better if I just study on my own. I can always ask him via text," you announce your final stance, waving your phone in the air to prove that due to the break-throughs of modern technology over the past years, he's just the press of a button away.

Yangyang does not budge nor react.

"What I'm trying to say is: do not get involved!" You screech, opting to throw a balled up piece of paper into his face that he doges with ease.

Apparently, your words mean nothing to Yangyang because just a day later he's invited you to the same cheap café where you had met Renjun for the first time. Too bad that Yangyang didn't show up. Someone else did show up, though, and it was no other than the complete content of your last month's dreams: Renjun.

"Where-" you begin, but soon realize that this is a set-up, and you make a mental note to strangle Yangyang as soon as you get home. With a slight smile, Renjun sits down across from you, hands wrapped around his paper cup filled with what you assume is tea, judging by the little label on a string dangling from under the lid.

"I swear to God, I'm going to kill him," you mutter, but Renjun suddenly puts a hand onto your forearm, your gaze burning into the pretty birthmark on the back of his hand immediately.

"Please don't," Renjun says, voice so soft that you have to pull yourself together as to not slide off your chair to melt into a puddle on the floor. Instead, you look up to find his beautiful eyes already locking with yours. "You need me right now, in these times of terror."

"He told you about that," you whine, face scrunching up in embarrassment.

"Yes," Renjun nods, pressing his lips together to symbolize empathy for your situation, that you accept with a sigh. Renjun does not need to know, and will never find out, that you actually will bury Yangyang alive in your neighbor's yard once you get back, or at least bewitch him so he never dares to darken your doorstep again. "The important thing is, I'm here. And I will get you through that exam."

"Honestly, I might as well just drop out. It's useless, you're just wasting your time. I should just become a stripper or something," you complain, fingers picking at your chipped off nail polish.

"As much as I'd love to see that..."

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I don't want you to give up so easily! You can do this, I believe in you!" Renjun fakes a grin and shakes his fists in the air. "Jiāyóu~!"

You grimace at the expression, but then break out a smile as well. God, you missed him. Honestly, when you're looking at him, all the motivation his pretty eyes contain kind of latch onto you as well. Maybe you can do it, but not without his help.

"I'm free every day starting tomorrow."

"Sounds good to me."

A mathematics-marathon should be the last thing to be excited for, though you still found yourself sleepless rolling around your mattress the night prior, a giggling grin on your face as you imagined the next 3 days to be filled with nothing but quality time with Renjun. Even Yangyang is surprised seeing you up so early the next day, making coffee with a smile and a tune on your lips, and even a 'good morning' – something he hadn't received in years, maybe not ever.

"Alright, all set?" You ask, beaming.

"Yeah?"

"Great! I'll go masturbate!"

"Why?"

"Because I have to be able to focus on studying-"

"No, why are you telling me this?" Yangyang whines, shielding his ears with his palms to protect them from more tmi, though you huff out a laugh before leaning in to pinch his cheek.

"Yangie, you're so silly! Anyway, he'll be here soon, open the door for him when he's here, yeah?" You pad his head before turning to storm off to your room.

"Who?" Yangyang's brows furrow at the lack of knowledge he has regarding the situation. As if on cue, the doorbell rings. You squeak happily, then go to open the door for Renjun who stands there looking handsome as ever.

"Hi," he smiles, body decorated with a huge binder in his arm, a bag crossing over his torso and a small suitcase in his unoccupied hand. He looks breathtaking as always, and you almost forget to let him inside.

"Renjun!" It sounds from Yangyang who finally built up enough curiosity to sneak up on whoever just entered your shared home. Renjun smiles and waves at him as he rids himself of his coat and shoes. You can do nothing but watch in awe at how someone can look this enticing hanging a piece of clothing to a wall. Yangyang does not waste a second before wrapping an arm around Renjun's shoulders to drag him away.

"Where are you taking him?" Your brows furrow as you grab ahold of Renjun's wrist to stop him from going anywhere, ignoring the rush of excitement flowing through you at the feeling of his body's warmth.

"Thought you wanted to go masturbate," Yangyang bites back with a dirty grin. He always acts like a mess on mornings, but apparently it's all been an act, he seems to be able to throw you under the bus just fine.

"He doesn't know what he's talking about," you speak sweetly to Renjun, guiding him with you to sit at the table, but not before throwing Yangyang a dirty look. Renjun seems a bit taken aback, but generally grown accustomed to your continuous bickering.

If this was a movie, there would be a montage of studying clips with energetic rock music playing in the background right now. Of you chewing on your pencil, Renjun pointing at an equation in the book, explaining stuff with a serious expression and you nodding along. You scribbling away on a sheet of paper furiously, Renjun pinching the bridge of his nose while shaking his head. You throwing your pencil through the room in defeat before placing your head on the table top with Renjun patting your shoulder. Yangyang on the couch deeply invested in his Nintendo DS, occasionally picking his nose. Renjun motioning his hands in the air as you squint at him and nod. You showing Renjun how you managed to solve the equation, but Renjun presses his lips together. You screaming, claw-like hands shaking in the air as hot tears wet your cheeks. Renjun standing up, his own hands in his hair, panicking. Yangyang munching on a piece of toast which goes down the wrong pipe causing him to cough violently. The sun moving over the sky before being replaced by the moon at a sped-up pace, implying that these moments were happening over the course of multiple days. You sniffling, wiping your eyes every few seconds as you write something down again with Renjun nervously biting his nails and pacing around the room. You handing Renjun the paper, your hands shaking, and Renjun's eyes going wide, a smile forming on his lips. You screaming and cheering, jumping up and down celebrating, the sudden noise causing Yangyang to jump and fall of the couch.

"I'm going to the toilet," Yangyang announces, "don't wait up."

"Okay, ha-"

"I'm going to poop! Jesus, have you ever heard of privacy? You guys are so nosy," Yangyang whines before exiting the room. Renjun throws you a questioning look that you do not see, only sense, as your eyes are focused on the numbers and letters on your sheet of paper.

"He gets stressed when a costumer of his Style Boutique isn't happy with the item he chose for them," you briefly explain.

"Oh, so that's what he's been playing for the past two days?"

"What did you think?" You mumble, tongue catching between your lips as you punch the keys of your calculator until it finally gives you the answer you longed for.

"I don't know actually. Good for him," Renjun smiles.

"He's trying to get to the platinum level at the fashion contests right now."

"Sounds dedicated."

"I'm done! Check it please," you draw out the last syllable to sound cute, and if your brain wasn't filled with purely maths, you'd probably cringe at yourself right now. Renjun grins and takes the paper from you. Going through the lines, he keeps nodding, and you bite your pointer finger over your folded hands anxiously.

"Well, except that the answer is plus and minus 3, you managed to get everything right," Renjun beams, scribbling a little smiley next to your answer. You clap your hands in front of your chest, feeling relieved. Your heart beats a little faster as you watch Renjun flip through the pages.

"Okay, this one is really hard. If you get this right, you're definitely acing this topic," Renjun explains, the tip of his pen quickly drawing tiny little dots next to the exercise on the papery surface of the math book.

"I can do it," you nod and high five him before diving in.

While your nose is buried in your notes, scribbling away furiously, Renjun anxiously leans back. Yangyang reenters the room, locking eyes with Renjun who smiles nervously.

Yangyang grins, eyes darting to your hunched over form at the table, tongue stuck between your lips in upmost concentration, then back to Renjun, and he wiggles his brows teasingly. Renjun, innocent as he is, tilts his head in confusion. Yangyang stares at your form again, eyes widening purposely before doing the same while looking at Renjun, then he purses his lips to mimic a kiss. Renjun stares blankly ahead, still not getting it.

Yangyang groans silently before dramatically pointing at you with both hands, then to Renjun, before balling his fists and thrusting his hips into the distance between his hands, then halting and staring at Renjun intently.

Renjun blushes profusely and looks away.

Yangyang chuckles dirtily.

That makes you look up, "what?"

You notice Yangyang grinning and Renjun looking ready for the ground to swallow him whole. "Don't worry about it," Yangyang says grinning evilly before flopping back down on the couch, miscalculating the distance and almost tumbling back off.

Renjun gulps, you notice, and smiles at you awkwardly. You shrug and get back to calculating. Renjun is sweating, nervously gazing at Yangyang who is back in his Style Boutique, then at you as you write down something on your sheet of paper. Renjun notices the way your lashes curve softly, and how you slightly puff out your cheeks in concentration, and he can't help but recall the moment a minute ago, and what Yangyang was implying.

"I am sweating buckets," you inform everyone in hearing radius, and it's true. There are pearls of sweat running down your back right now, party because the next one and a half hours are going to determine the course of your enter life, and partly because, as well established by now: Renjun.

"You can do it," Renjun says full of energy, having woken up extra early to send you on your way into the exam, both of his hands on your shoulders, shaking you lightly, "repeat after me."

"I can do it," you say, trying to sound determined, as a bypassing student accidentally bumps into your arm as they enter the classroom.

"Yes!" Renjun nods, gazing softly into your eyes, his soft smile faltering a little as you gaze back into his eyes, your gaze unmistakably flickering down to his lips as he is standing so close. You gulp and nod, forcing a smile.

The awkward tension lingers in the air for a bit before another student bumping into you rips you from your daze.

"Maybe I should-" you say, clearing your throat, and Renjun nods.

"I'll be rooting for you," Renjun smiles, waving as you turn around and enter the room, sending him a last nervous, tight-lipped smile before disappearing in the midst of other nervous students.

Not really knowing what to do with himself, Renjun sits down on the floor across the room, scrolling on his phone and checking the time bi-minutely. He falls asleep soon after, and if he could see the way he is sitting from a third person's POV, he would be concerned for the state of his neck.

A loud smack on the top of his head with a playboy magazine wakes him up.

Immediately in fight mode, he takes the pose he learned in self defense class, but he soon realizes it's just Yangyang.

"Hello Romeo," he teases, plopping down next to Renjun far too carelessly for the solidity of the hallway floor, and Renjun halts briefly to worry about YangYang's tailbone, but he seems just fine. Yangyang seems to have no problems showing off his porn magazine as he openly leaves it laying on his lap.

"Hello Yangyang," Renjun replies briefly, forcing himself to look at the ceiling as to not lock eyes with a pair of boobs.

"What's ya fine ass doing here?"

Renjun vaguely gestures towards the closed door of the room you're currently taking your maths exam in. Yangyang's eyes follow his hand, grinning deviously as he finally rolls the playboy magazine up and stuffs it into the side pocket of his cargo pants.

"Waiting for your girlfriend, huh?"

"She's not my girlfriend..." Renjun mumbles, blushing.

Yangyang pokes his side obnoxiously hard, making Renjun tilt his body to avoid a bruise. "C'mon... it's obvious."

Renjun shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. Yangyang was never one to be bothered by that.

"You like her, don't you? It's hot to you that she's as dumb as a bread," Yangyang grins, and after receiving a questioning look by Renjun clarifies, "a German expression."

"I... maybe I like her... she's funny and... sweet and... pretty smart except for maths," Renjun shrugs timidly.

Yangyang blinks at him, "agree to disagree... anyway! You should totally shoot your shot."

This time, Renjun blinks wordlessly, then after a moment says, "I don't think she even likes me."

"Are you joking?!" Yangyang shrieks, causing a few heads turn towards them, but he pays them no mind. "She's literally been head over heels for you since like 1947."

"We weren't even born then... my parents weren't even born then," Renjun points out.

"Dude," Yangyang comes unnecessarily close, "trust me. She's dtf!"

Renjun blinks, unfamiliar with the acronym.

"Oh my God, am I the only person familiar with slang? Is math really all you do?" Yangyang shakes his head in disbelief, and as Renjun opens his mouth to protest, to inform Yangyang that he, in fact, has various hobbies that have very little to do with maths, and besides, that math provides a lot of fun activities, like sudoku, but Yangyang stops him, "doesn't matter. She," he halts, rolling his eyes at the forced lack of euphemisms and exaggeration, "likes you."

Renjun does not seem convinced.

"Look, I'll give you my pair of Air Jordan 4 Retro Kaws Sneakers if I'm wrong," Yangyang says seriously.

"Why would I want your worn out shoes?"

"For God's sake!" Yangyang rubs his hands over his face, "why are we friends again?"

"Well, we met on vacation in 2017 and you said "on fleek, Chinese bros for the win," and you wouldn't leave me alone after."

"Chinese bros for the win," Yangyang repeats proudly, making Renjun glance around in embarrassment.

In that same moment, the door opens, revealing your figure sneaking out. With a glance at the time, Renjun immediately has a bad feeling about this. Not even two thirds of the time have passed since you entered the exam room, and from experience (of others, he himself has never had an issue with any exams), Renjun knows this usually doesn't end well.

You spot both boys sitting on the floor and step over. Renjun has never been more unable to read someone's emotional state. Hence, he gets up, preparing for the worst.

"And?" He asks hesitantly. In response, you shrug, informing them that you'll get the results an hour after the exam is finished. Renjun sighs, not a big fan of this uncertainty, but what choice does he have? Bribing the professor to look over your exam first and let him know whether you passed or not? ... that's not legal, right?

Three pairs of eyes are anxiously trained on your iPad screen in the middle of the table. Well, one pair of eyes, rather, since your eyes are fixated on how pretty Renjun's nose looks from this angle, and Yangyang is unmistakably scrolling on TikTok.

"Can you refresh again?" Renjun basically begs, gaze catching yours. He looks so distressed that it seemed as if he was waiting for his own results to come in. Well, in a way, he is.

Just as the clock strikes, you refresh the page, and a new email shows up. You gulp, glancing at Renjun who seems to be sweating buckets as he picks at his cuticles anxiously. Even Yangyang has abandoned his phone on the table, watching with interest. Hesitantly, your finger hovers over the email.

"I can't even look," Renjun brings out, covering his eyes with his birth marked hand. You take a deep breath before opening the document. A bone chilling screech emits from your throat, and no one is sure as to what that means.

Renjun, hand still covering his eyes, shrieks, "what??"

You grab onto his wrist and pull his hand away from his face, grinning widely "56%!"

It takes a moment to register in Renjun's brain, but then his jaw drops, the corners of his mouth pulling into a huge grin, "56%!!"

Confused, Yangyang watches. 56% isn't really that much...

"You did is!" Renjun cheers, getting up at the same time as you, wrapping his arms around your waist without even thinking and spinning you around happily.

"We did it!" You correct him with a happy grin, cheering along with him as you celebrate. Yangyang raises a skeptical brow, but his face contorts in slight amusement. The according to Yangyang slightly cringe celebration goes on for a good while before you seem to be calming down.

Renjun's eyes gaze deeply into yours, "I told you you could do it..."

"This was mostly your work, honestly..." you whisper back, gulping a little as you shamelessly stare at his lips, watching has his tongue wets them, Another quick look into Renjun's eyes and your lips crash into each other, hands frantically pulling the other close.

"Oh wow," Yangyang comments, shocked, but not surprised, grinning dirtily as he pats himself on the shoulder, fully convinced that he is to take full credit for this.

Renjun's lips feel so soft and perfect against yours that you fear you will lose consciousness if this continues on for much longer – not that you mind. It's as if all these weeks of pining, dreaming and wishing were not in vain. Completely tuning out Yangyang's speech about how he knew all along, you and Renjun lose yourselves in your own little world, tongues too shy to dart out just yet.

You finally part after a bit, slowly opening your eyes to stare at each other with what could only be described as the beginning of a love that will bloom beautifully. Renjun clears his throat awkwardly, but he can't help but smile softly as you gulp and timidly bite your lip.

"So..." Yangyang announces, snapping you out of your trances and making you both look at him, "when can we expect babies?"

"Yangyang..." Renjun groans defeatedly, and you grab your slipper off your foot to hit Yangyang with it, who laughs menacingly as he tumbles off his chair and takes off into his room, but not without another comment, "name one after me!"

© 2024 YUTASBELLYBUTTONPIERCING all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works.

[howtotrainabraincell]

Head cannons bc I can - What kinds affectionate the different assassins would be - Part 2

Evie Frye - The Enduring Lover. Personal head cannon that she gives hand kisses whether it be the back of your hand or the palm, and she loves to hold hands while reading books. I see footsies being a thing too, like if you can't hold hands but you're sitting down to work with her you two are wrapped together at the legs under the table. She would be more serious about teaching self-defense genuinely wanting you to learn from it and be able to protect yourself, but there would be sweet smiles of encouragement and pride here and there, soft touches to correct your posture and stance, and a surprise kiss here and there. Speaking of surprise kisses... she will totally pin you down and smooch you. 100%. Brushing her hair will be routine because who can look at the gorgeous hair she has and not want to run their fingers through it, brush it, braid it, and style it? Her love will definitely be playing with her hair and doing her braids for her, and she loves it (especially if you give her head a little massage during lol). I see her adopting a cat specifically a wispy blue-eyed baby maine coon! Somewhere along the line maybe a dog - a small one for lap cuddles alongside a big intimidating one to protect you (she seems like the kind of woman to be into dogs that look like children of satan himself but are actual babies) such as a Belgian Malinois or a Doberman. Feel like she would feel a little better leaving you with a dog that is dedicated to protecting you (and do those dogs LOOOOVVEEE her bc she's Evie and all of the interesting smells she brings home). Flowers are a definite way in which Ms. Frye would woo her love. She brings many of them to you whether they have meaning or they're just beautiful. She carries pressed flowers from you inside a handkerchief (one that you made her as a token of your favor) hidden in her coat, resting just above her heart. The first thing she wants to do after kicking bahookie in Fight Club is find you and hug you tightly. It's for both of you really - her to let you know that she's safe and to receive comfort from your embrace, and you to check her over any injuries she has and fuss over her and how great she did in the ring (which she LOVES might I add). After a long day she'll want nothing more than to just plop right into your arms - and if she doesn't conk out first (poor thing) - she'' wrap her arms around your waist and rest her head against your stomach. I see her having a girlfriend that does her nails via filing them in a way so that they're sharp AF this helps her out (not that she needs it lol woman's a menace) against Templars, Blighters, and goons in Fight Club bc everything's allowed - she legit breaks bones for crying out loud so ofc she claws people's faces off too. Have a feeling that she has a secret sweet tooth so if you baked for her, you're going to get a kiss on the cheek as she munches away with a major blush coating her freckle speckled cheeks. She will box Jacob's ears if he tries to sneak off with some of the snacks you made her and tell me why I'm at.least 93% certain that she keeps some of the things you bake for her in a handkerchief in her coat. Would totally recommend books to you, share them and bring them to you so you two could have your own little book club together haha. She is a devoted lover and although shy when it comes to showing and verbally expressing her love, have no doubt that it's there. She loves you very much and hopes that despite the kind of life you two lead, you have many years together. Or if you choose not to be an assassin, she still hopes for the same just accompanied with a deep unspoken fear of her getting killed and leaving you alone. You two have the kind of bond where others are totally convinced that you'll both die on the same day. Rest assured that your love will be one that lasts throughout the ages.

Malik Al-Sayf - The Restrained Lover. Will drape his robe over you to keep you warm, he hates to see you uncomfortable (and this ties into why he doesn't show you public affection). I have a feeling that he's only affectionate in private due to societal norms at the time throughout the late 12th and early 13th century. Will escort you through the market and help you choose things (idk why but I have a feeling that Malik is the stand there behind you in the candle aisle and sniff candles with you boyfriend lol). He'll keep you close on his arm and help you with your basket (one of the first clues that you had about him liking you back was that his fingers would reach up and brush yours, lingering when he holds it in the crook of his arm). He would teach you how to draw maps efficiently and also how to work out the geography that revolves around creating one. He would stand behind you real close hovering over you as he holds your hand and helps you make your first map...and every map there after lol. A certain Novice he knows is only a little taller than him so he's up there in height, with this being known he will stand in front of you with your head tilted back and his forehead pressed against yours as he looks into your eyes muttering sweet things in Arabic. You should SEE HIS FACE when you get him gifts! If you bring him a loaf of fresh baked bread, some new incense, or pick up some extra papyrus for him to make maps he will get redder than a chili pepper. He kisses your forehead quite often caressing your hair which is something he often does as well. You two can sit there in complete silence before you feel his fingers taking up a lock of your hair and twirling it around his finger, without even looking up from what he's doing. When he leaves for missions and you two are in front of people, he doesn't touch you, but he stands before you and bids you farewell in Arabic wishing "Safety and Peace" upon you. However, if you two are alone he'll kiss your cheeks - as is common among assassins - lingering with his lips against your skin (which makes you blush, and he does it on purpose). Once he sees the blush he'll chuckle and look around quickly before taking your waist in his hands and kissing you properly. You made it a habit of being alone when he has to go off on missions so you two can have a proper goodbye. Altair immediately knows lol and teases him to the ninth realm and back, which make Malik try (and fail) to shove him off his horse lol. He does have issues reminding himself not to touch you in public and you two have almost been caught embracing, standing too close or with his arms around your waist, but assassin reflexes come in handy. Malik remains restrained for the majority of your relationship (save for in private ofc) but he kind of has to while Al Mualim is alive, as love is thought to make assassins weak. When Altair takes over and changes a lot of things it takes him a while to get used to it, but he's happy that he can finally show his love for you in public. When this is the case, he'll take to hugging you and kissing your hands and head and speaking lovingly to you in the open. I think this man would have a garden. I really do. I think he would grow flowers in that garden that reminds him of you and when they're ready he would bring them to you. When you two have to hide your relationship, he'll press the flowers in books he gives you to read. But after he'll stand there and decorate your hair with them. He would definitely teach you Arabic and you'll get a kick out of the cute little blush he has when you call him Habibi for the first time. More of a serious lover but he does make sure to show you the affection you deserve (which is a lot bc this man is quite handsy in private lol). I think he would bring you tea and dates or oranges depending on what was available and you two just sit there and talk or hold hands in silence enjoying each other's company.

Henry Green - The Selfless Lover. I think that this man drinks chai, tis a staple drink to this gorgeous man and once he introduces you to it and you like it? Consider drinking Chai together one of the many things you two share together. He loves it when you call him his real name Jayadeep and the grin on his face every time you do it is a mile wide. He always kisses the back of your hand when you two meet bowing slightly (which once you two become friends you wonder why he keeps that formal gesture, but he continues to bow out of respect for you). Has a little habit of pulling at his collar when you're near and when he looks at you while you're speaking it takes him a moment to respond. If you're looking at a book about botany and want to show him something he'll place one arm behind your back his hand resting on the surface next to you, while the other supports the book as you show him. You have noticed how his chest gently presses against your back and how his fingers brush yours when he holds the book, how close he stands and the way he leans down over your shoulder close to your face. He never tries anything ever the gentleman and you would never expect him to...he totally just gets closer to see the book properly! Will bring so many flowers you'll have your own literal garden, and every single flower will mean something. A thornless red rose after the medieval tradition to symbolize his pure and eternal love that will never wane. Forget me nots for his affection and loyalty to you. Daisies for the ability to keep a secret a little joke between you two about how you must keep the true nature of what you do - aka being assassin's - secret. He takes very good care of you, always asking how you are and if there's something you need. Imagine the blush on his face when you tell him that the only thing you need is his company, this poor man will look like a tomato lol. He's always there when you want to talk offering you something to drink beforehand and then he sits there, holding your hand and listening to you talk. Will call you endearing nicknames in Punjabi and say things that you don't understand. Though when you ask him what he's saying, he just smiles with a slight blush on his face and kisses your cheek sweetly. Always offers his arm when you two are walking together, him being closer to the street of course as he wouldn't want you in/near the road. In the end if you want to stay in England or go somewhere else, he'll follow you wherever you go (personally believe that he would love to travel with you, learning about new lands and cultures, exploring with you and making memories). The first thing he does at the end of the day is search for you and he invites you to read together or have tea/whatever your pleasure drink is, so you two can just relax together (and be alone but he won't admit that lol). This man will pretend to read his book, but he'll actually be peeking at you over the top to catch glimpses of your face. Will gush about you to his parents and his mother already loves you because you make her darling son happy, but his father is a little skeptical. The reason being that Arbaaz was angry to find out that his only son did not have the killer instinct of an assassin within him and turned out to be a peaceful intellectual instead, and he is now concerned that the love his son has for you may make him weak. The whole "love can make you weak vs love can make you strong" argument runs rampant in his mind. But when Arbaaz sees how serious his son is about you, he begins to have hope that Jayadeep's love for you will at least inspire a protective nature in his son. It does. He asks the Frye twins if they can brush him up on combat (he can fight from previous training but he's lil rusty) so he can be ready to kick the dumb out of anybody who tries to hurt you. He loves you and never wants it to come to a situation where he can't fight or kill to defend you (but then again, he doesn't really get into fights bc the majority of people like him lol he's a cinnamon roll)

Yusuf Tazim - The Amusing Lover. This man will make.you.laugh allll the time. He has a wonderful sense of humor and considering that his favorite sound in the world is your voice and specifically your laughter? He'll do anything to bring a smile to your face and make you laugh. He is very sweet and would NEVER do anything to disrespect you but if someone else does? I have a feeling that this man goes from sweet to serial killer real quick lol. Something about him says to me that he goes feral when protecting his loved ones, so don't cross him or disrespect the one he loves. Calls you endearing names in Turkish his favorite being 'Sweetheart' because he thinks that you're very sweet both personality and otherwise... Head cannon that he got so nervous when he first met you because he thought that you were so beautiful he couldn't remember English, so he stood there introducing himself in Turkish and asking if he may have the honor of showing you around the city when you have some free time. You had no idea what he was saying but you couldn't deny that he was very cute, and it made you smile. While he is quite a good-natured comical man, he does have serious moments and is not afraid to wrap his arms around you and tell you how much he loves you. Cooking and especially baking with you is something that he loves to do because he has fond childhood memories of baking with his mother. Have a feeling that he's a family man and that he would LOVE to have big family. This man is MEANT to be a Papa (fight me I won't back off on this one lol). He cannot WAIT to have a handful of little bitties running around who call you Mama and him Baba. He would love to have daughters who he can play with (and teach about hair care bc have you seen his luxurious locks?) that look exactly like you. He loves to hold your hand and trace the lines of your palm almost as if he's trying to memorize every single detail, all while kissing the tips of your fingers. You tell him that this tickles of course but it makes you laugh so he doesn't plan on stopping anytime soon lol. He also loves to kiss you on the cheek always pulling away with a wide grin when he hears you giggle at the feeling of his beard against your skin. There are few feelings in the world that he thinks are better than holding you in his arms, waking up to see you asleep next to him, or the feeling of coming home to you and seeing you safe and happy. If.you.bake.for.him he will MARRY YOU. There is no asking (joking he 'll plan the most romantic proposal ever for sure) he'll literally just consider you his wife because he'll never want anyone else or their cooking. Playing with his hair, brushing it, braiding it and putting his head wrap(?) on for him are things that he will melt like butter over. He loves it. He loves how you kiss him all over his face and cling to him just as tightly as he does you when he hugs you. I personally think that he would looovveee it if you learned some Turkish lullabies and sang to him, whether it be while doing a minute task or just before bed. This man DEF gives the kind of hugs where he rushes to meet you and wraps his arms around you to spin you around. When you greet him at the end of the day, he jogs to you with a happy smile and kisses you sweetly. Will totally take your hands intertwining his fingers with yours as he moves your arms and hands slowly in a silly dancing motion as he asks about your day. Man gives a vibe of lowkey ADHD lol. Whenever he gets into a mischievous mood you can expect him to grab you by the hand and pull you in tow behind him, running through the markets either to cause a ruckus with the guards by trolling them from AFAR (he'd NEVER put you in intentional danger) and making them pin it on each other, or finding a secluded spot on the rooftops to watch the sunset/rise/stars in the sky. TELL ME that after all of the teasing and picking on Ezio that this man has done, that Ezio will hesitate for a SECOND to tease him right back about you and how whipped he is for you.

[weaselle]

i've seen this before but i just now heard some people talking about it so i'm going to weigh in.

(I don't sit around day dreaming about fighting animals or anything, but i live under a hill with coyotes and a mountain lion and i've done a fair amount of wandering around where the wild things are, so this kind of thing does cross my mind)

First of all, we're talking a fight not an altercation. I think there's a chance i could drive off just about any of these animals, by bluffing them or acting weird enough or getting them to give a little ground which often turns into giving more ground and going away. I've navigated interactions with wild animals before, and you can usually make yourself seem like not enough of a threat and yet also too much trouble, and end things before they really begin.

What we're talking about is after these tactics fail and you are already in a physical fight.

And for the purposes of this i'm going to say this includes fighting for your life against a predatory attack -- there's a big difference between driving off a large predator that is just roughing you up because it's mad you're in its territory, and one that has already decided its for sure going to kill you, and we're going to say "what if the worst should happen". So:

rat

house cat

goose

medium sized dog

eagle

large dog are all a yes from me. Large dog and eagle are trouble but doable -- i'm very experienced with large dogs and i grew up around geese and the eagle is going to be the same as the goose but you'll walk away with more significant injuries. Like, an eagle weighs the same as a jack russell terrier and has hollow bones, if i can get a hold of it i can end it, but i'm probably gonna need, like, so many stitches. Same with the large dog, i'll likely need to visit the hospital after (and i'd be real sad) but i could get it done if i had to.

now. The unknowns. These are all animals that there's some chance, however small, i might survive.

wolf

king cobra

crocodile

kangaroo

Wolf. So. I work with dogs professionally, I have had to break up several dog fights, i'm comfortable physically interacting with very large dogs, and that's why i think i could definitely win a fight against a dog if i had to. I've also come face to face with a wild wolf in the woods (which was pretty damn scary) and i think there's a chance i could win against a single wolf basically the same way i would win against a large dog, but also, wolves are not dogs, they literally kill other animals all the time, they're like, professionals at it, so. Maybe.

King cobra, yeah, i can for sure kill this poor snake with my bare hands, but whether or not i can do it without getting a lethal dose of venom stuck into me is a big coin flip. Is it winning if you kill the snake but you also die? not to me

Crocodile just depends on so much. I mean probably not. Like, a large adult Saltwater or Nile croc? absolutely not, nope, no way, i'm for sure deadzo. But crocs come in a lot of sizes and shapes. And many of them sort of keep growing their whole life, so, a 5 and a half foot croc might be an adult or i could be facing an adult crocodile of the same species that weighs more than 2,000 pounds.

Gharial crocs can also get way bigger than i can do anything with, but they have a really thin snout designed to catch fish. Other species of crocs also have smaller, thinner mouths and specialize in fish, like the central african slender-snouted croc, which do not get as large as their nile cousins. And various smaller species of crocodile exist that might be adults at only three or four feet long.

Most crocodiles enter tonic immobility like sharks, so if i can get it on its back for a couple breaths it will go sort of unconscious, and if it's not too big i might be able to make that happen. Of course, even if it only weighs like 40 pounds, if we're in water that's deeper than i am tall it can just latch on and keep my head under the surface... so a lot depends on what kind of croc, what size, and what specific ground/water environment we're in. The answer is, probably not. But it depends.

Kangaroo. So that leaves this guy. Basically, this is like fighting a soccer player who has a short-bladed knife in each hand and a spike on each foot. The kicks are hard, and i'm getting cut up real good, but there's some chance i could win. Or not. It kind of depends on the individual. Some adult kangaroos are smaller than me and some are bigger than me and i do know how to fight but then again i definitely fight less often than the kangaroo does and it has weapons and i don't, so. Likely not. But maybe. Depends. Also depends on what you mean by "win". It definitely doesn't want to eat me and they don't usually fight to the death -- I've seen a person punch a large kangaroo hard enough to make it change its mind about wanting to fight. i kinda think i might be able to achieve a similar outcome.

Okay, now the rest of these are just crazy! Chimps are a big no, they can do everything i can do but stronger, better, and with fangs.

A gorilla? If they do decide you have to be ended, gorillas are an even worse opponent, there's just no way. A male gorilla has jaw muscles the same size as my biceps. They have a bite force twice as strong as a lion's. They can weigh more than 400 pounds. There's absolutely no way.

And there's literally nothing an unarmed human could do against a determined lion, brown bear, or elephant. Less than zero chance if one of those things decides you have to die.

look, the smallest of those last three would be a lioness. Here's three big strong men testing their strength against a single lioness

dude. She's not even trying very hard. A wild lioness that decided an unarmed person was food? There's basically nothing you can do once she takes action, all your options depend on doing something to make her change her mind before she gets a hold of you. It's the same for a brown bear, and lmao, an elephant could literally throw a car at you. An elephant can weigh six thousand pounds and lowkey has to move carefully around a person to not kill them accidentally.

idk who these 6-17% think they are, but some of these "yes" answers up on that poll are insane.

[pricegouge]

WIP Wednesday for accountability 🎉two for one special 🎉

From Haul:

Cutesy, fluffy socks in place, you continue your exploration of the sparingly furnished room. Aside from the bed and the little desk, there's an empty bookshelf and a bucket in the corner which makes you shudder just to think about. As if in warning, your tummy gurgles but you cross your legs defiantly where you stand. Instead, you head toward the desk and begin inspecting it, pulling out each drawer in turn only to be greeted by dust, more dust, and a ratty looking deck of cards - benevolent of them - but no pens or pencils, or anything really that could have been used as a makeshift weapon.

You bite back a groan of frustration, determination winning out as you begin to inspect the desk itself. It's a flatpack unit of some sort, solid metal legs and a laminated MDF top. Surprisingly sturdy, and anchored to the wall as you find out when you give it an experimental shove and it bites into your hip rather aggressively. No barricading, then, although it wouldn't do you much good anyway if you couldn't find another exit. Or at least a way to pick them off as they came through the door. Your eyes rove your limited options, landing on the small metal stool tucked under the desk. You tilt your head in consideration, giving it an experimental heft as you imagine beating the large men down with something so unwieldy. It would make you laugh, if it didn't make your bad shoulder hurt so much.

Movement beyond your door has you stashing your stool away quickly, scrambling back to the bed so you could hide yourself under the blankets like some frightened child.

Your boogeymen don't bother with theatrics beyond the sounds of the locks disengaging. It's Kyle who appears first, pretty eyes scanning the room as if in search of threat before stepping to the side and allowing the captain to come through. It strikes you again how very big they are. In this tiny room, with its low slung, claustrophobia-inducing rafters and clos- pitched walls, they stand taller than the bookcase, seem to loom near as broad as your bed. Kyle shuts the door behind them but it's almost unnecessary as you know in your bones there would be no slipping past them even if you weren't laid up sorer than a pussy in a pricker patch.

"Good morning doll," John beams and you nod at him absently. Morning. At least you got a decent night's sleep.

"When the captain wishes you a good morning, you return the favor," Gaz warns and you nod again, swallowing.

"Good morning, John. Good morning, Gaz," you tack on when John raises a brow at you.

"A clever one, then. Good. That'll make this next bit easier." John's smile is almost warm when he comes to sit on the edge of the bed. Pleased, he nearly looks amiable and you can almost see how he's managed to bring this group of men to heel, though the notion makes you want to clobber yourself with your stool as soon as you think it.

And from a new piece I'm tentatively calling Get Her a Dog which centers around Soap x reader, Price x reader, and eventual Price soap x reader - heavily changed since the last time I mentioned it due to some illuminating discussions with Kai @/dwarvenales

It's raining in York again, the soft tatting upon the windows your only indication. It's evening, but you've still got the blinds pulled because you couldn't be arsed to draw them. In the apartment next door, a baby cries its head off and you sigh, turning up the volume on your b-movie romcom. It cries a lot. You don't immediately reach for your phone when it buzzes against the coffee table because you can't think of any pressing reasons someone would be contacting you tonight, but it goes off twice more in as many minutes so you relent. You unlock it without really looking, thumbing through to your messages where your husband's contact photo beams back at you, top of the list. You pause, lip twitching slightly. Johnny's supposed to be halfway across the world, his phone inaccessible to him. It should be a good thing that he's texting you - returning from a mission early could go one of two ways, but if he was well enough to text then surely you should be excited for him. Except you're not, because you know what his message will read before you even open it. Used to be, Johnny would stumble through the door after a deployment all battered and bruised, laughing when you yelped because you weren't expecting him - wandering the house in lazy day clothes because you thought he was supposed to be away another week. He always rushed home the second he could, never wasted enough time for so much as an 'I lived' text because he couldn't bear to be away from you one more unnecessary moment. Used to be, you two missed each other when he was away. >having the boys over for dinner <you're back in town? >got in yesterday yea >can u make that pasta dish gaz likes? owe him my life

You sigh, torn between being more annoyed by Johnny's presumption, the fact he hadn't even let you know he was alive let alone at base, and the fact that you know you should be worried after a comment like that.

Mostly, you're just too tired.

[mendessi]

dreamland | j.m

pairing: pre+post-outbreak!jolemiller x fem!reader summary: you're dog sitting for your aunt for a couple of weeks who happens to live across the street from a handsome man and his daughter warnings: reader is 24 & joel is 34, slow burn-ish, ill post more as i think, this first chapter is tame,dad!joel, let me know at any time if you think of any, word count: 4k a/n: this will be multiple parts following reader and joel's relationship from pre to post outbreak one | two | three | ... MINORS DNI

june 2002

Summer was always your favorite season. While many made a fuss of the Texas heat, it was something you didn't mind. Summer meant barbecues and days at the lake, spending time with your dad and sister.

"Your Aunt Delilah is going to Europe for the month of June and wants to know if you'd be able to dog sit for her." He asked you one day after hanging up the phone with his sister.

"Pickle would come here or I would go to Austin?" You perked up on the couch. There was no city in Texas that you loved more than Austin, especially when you got to stay in your aunt's cozy home. The city was vibrant and full of life. It's why you chose to go to school there in the first place. Yeah, yeah, the biochem degree you were after was well worth it too. Despite your aunt living there, you'd find any reason to go back to Austin whether school was in session or not.

"You'd go to Pickle." He said. "Her regular sitter is out of town too, so she'd figured you might wanna go."

"She'd figure right." You said standing up from your hole in the couch that had been home for the past several hours. It was a surprise you hadn't molded into it.

"You'd head down Friday, if that's alright with you." He told you and you gave him a thumbs up as you trekked up the stairs. "I'll let her know!"

Thank god you had barely unpacked after returning home from college even though it had been a couple of weeks since you got home. You were still trying to process that this was the last time you'd be coming home from college since you had just graduated. Procrastinating was one thing you were great at that's for sure. The idea of going back to Austin for a month was exciting because again, you loved the city. Visiting your aunt during the summers and for holidays as a kid is what made you fall in love with the city in the first place. Your fate was sealed after your dad and aunt took you to a UT vs A&M game when you were eight years old. Going to games at least once a year with the both of them and your sister had become a tradition of sorts and even more so once you were accepted to attend. Now that you lived there, going to games was a common occasion and your dad would join you on the weekends he was off.

When Friday rolled around you said goodbye to your dad and sister even though they agreed they'd come down to Austin in a couple of weeks to go the lake. The drive was only three hours and it was one you were used to making during the holidays and some weekends to visit home.

Pickle was a golden retriever that despite his old age still had a lot of energy. You had been the one to name Pickle when you were thirteen years old because you had been there when your aunt picked him from the shelter. Pickle was only a puppy that had been dumped on the side of the road and now he was a chubby ten year old boy that somehow still had the same energy as when he was small. He greeted you by clumsily running down the steps as fast as his old bones would let him and wiggled his butt as you bent down to pet him. This dog was your most favorite part about visiting your aunt's.

"You are a literal life saver." Delilah was not far behind Pickle as she engulfed you into a hug.

"Anything for my favorite aunt." You replied, smiling as she squeezed you a bit tighter.

"I'm your only aunt." Delilah may as well have been your mother. She was the only maternal figure you had in your life despite her not having any kids of your own. She was the epitome of "hot, fun aunt you only see at Christmas" but she was almost as present as your own father was. She kind of made you want to be the hot, fun aunt you only see at Christmas to your sister's future kids.

You spent the evening helping your aunt with some last minute packing and then spent dinner over her living room coffee table with a plethora of food from your favorite Asian spot in town.

"I wish I could come with. Texas is so boring." You sighed leaning against the couch, glancing over at the TV that neither of you were paying attention to.

"You love it here." She nudged your shoulder.

"I love it here when my aunt is here and my friends from college didn't all leave after graduation." God you had never felt so full in your life. You definitely had eaten too much but it wasn't something you'd regret in the slightest.

"You'll be just fine." Her hand cupped your face and you leaned into her touch.

The next morning you dropped her off at the airport and then went back home to take a short nap. When you woke up you decided that it was a beautiful, hot day outside and a day at the lake with Pickle sounded nice. It was likely many of your days in Austin would be spent with Pickle by some sort of body of water.

You laughed for a moment at his name, wondering what in the world prompted you as a twelve year old to name this sweet dog Pickle and why in the world Delilah allowed it.

"Should we go down to the lake, buddy?" Rubbing behind his ears, you helped the fat dog step into his harness. After packing your bag with a towel, sunblock and some snacks and water for both you and him, you pulled the front door open.

Pickle was a well trained dog and pretty much never left the yard when the front door was open. But something sparked his interest and he took off running down the front porch steps and across the yard. Dropping everything you held in your hands, you took off running after him, calling his name.

You probably looked like a fucking idiot yelling "Pickle! Pickle, here!" over and over again.

He lead you across the street to the house that used to belong to an elderly couple that Pickle loved because of the obnoxious amount of treats they used to feed him. The elderly couple wasn't there and instead a moving truck was backed into the driveway, a young girl kicking a soccer ball around front.

"Sarah, get up there and start unpacking your room." A man came out of the front door and stumbled backwards as Pickle jumped up onto him.

"Pickle, down!" Your jaw dropped as you finally reached the dog, grabbing a hold of his leash. "I am so sorry!"

"What a pretty dog!" The young girl approached Pickle who was eager for her attention and jumped up to meet her with kisses all over her face.

"I'm so sorry." You said again, pulling Pickle away from the girl but she stepped towards him again.

"Pickle is such a good name for a dog." She laughed.

You finally met the eyes of the girl's father and your breath nearly hitched in your throat at the stunning man standing in front of you. He didn't seem angry at all, just a smile on his face as he watched his daughter interact with the golden fluff ball in front of her.

"Sorry." You said again, this time a little breathless, nerves flooding your body.

Boys hardly made you nervous, in fact all of your friends praised how you were able to flirt with them. But standing in front of you was a man, a very attractive man that scanned your body up and down once over.

You immediately felt embarrassed remembering how you had just ran across the street screaming something about a Pickle and how you were only wearing your jean shorts and a bikini top.

"No, it's no worries at all. He's a friendly pup." He said, looking at his daughter again who was now sitting on the ground with Pickle who was on his back in front of her getting the best belly rubs of his life probably.

"The family that used to live here spoiled him. I didn't realize they sold the house." But boy were you glad they did.

"I'm Joel and this is Sarah. My brother Tommy is inside. Sarah and I are moving in." He held his hand out and you shook it happily, his firm grasp taking you not by surprise. You expected it from a man that looked as strong as he did. "This you across the street?"

"No, actually, it's my aunt's. I'm just dog sitting for the month." You told him. "It's nice to meet you both."

"Well if you, as a dog sitter, ever need someone to dog sit, I will gladly do it." Sarah laughed as she stood up from the grass and began running around the yard with Pickle.

"I'll take you up on the offer. We're actually going down to the lake today." You gave her a smile. "But, if you guys need a hand unloading, I can help?"

"Oh, we have it handled, thanks though." He glanced behind him and then at his daughter before he lowered his voice enough for her not to hear, "I hope to see you around."

Trying not to let your cheeks flush, a small smile crept onto your face. "Likewise."

The next few days you spent at the living room window, watching for Joel to come out of his house. He worked a normal schedule for the most part, but it looked more like he had taken a couple more days off during the week with Sarah on summer break.

You were out in the front yard the following weekend after meeting Joel and Sarah and playing a makeshift game of fetch with Pickle. He hardly liked to chase the ball anymore because of his age so the game was to throw the ball straight into the air and let him try to catch it as it bounced off the ground.

"Hey!" Sarah called your name as she ran across the street with her soccer ball in her hands. "Can I play with you guys?"

"Yeah, absolutely." Sarah tossed the soccer ball onto the ground and began kicking it around the yard between you and Pickle. He probably liked the fact that the soccer ball was bigger and easier for him to play with.

"He's so cute. I keep asking my dad for a dog but he says I'm not responsible enough yet." Sarah said as Pickle kept knocking the ball further and further away from himself and you and Sarah.

"You look pretty responsible to me. How old are you?" You asked her.

"Twelve." She answered you.

"Oh, you're totally responsible enough." You reassured her. "We can just share Pickle in the meantime."

"Did you name him Pickle?" She asked you.

"I did name Pickle." You replied. "It's a goofy name, huh?"

"Just a little. But I think it suits him." She laughed.

"Hey, she bothering you?" Joel was crossing the street and you barely caught yourself pushing your hair off your shoulder. He had Sarah's soccer ball in his hands and Pickle was prancing at his side. He must've knocked the ball into the street as Joel was coming out of the house. Normally you'd be more strict about him going into the street but it was the weekend in summer which meant the cul de sac in which you lived was quiet, hardly anyone coming on and off the street.

"No, we're actually talking about how you guys should also get a dog. You know, Pickle could use a friend." You took the soccer ball from his hands, your fingertips brushing his, your eyes never leaving each other's.

"Nice try." A smile tugged at his lips as he turned to Sarah. "We're not getting a dog."

"Lame."

"C'mon, I need your help with dinner. Uncle Tommy is on his way." Joel said.

"Aw, dad, I wanna hang out with Pickle some more." She huffed as any twelve year old would and it kind of reminded you of yourself.

"Well, maybe, uh... Pickle could join us for dinner? If you don't have any plans." Joel asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"No, no, we're free. If it's not too much trouble." You said. "I can help too."

Sarah didn't end up helping after all, because she was too preoccupied with her new best friend in the backyard so you found yourself standing next to Joel helping him prepare a bowl of mashed potatoes.

"Look, let me show you a trick my dad taught me." You said as you pulled the melted butter from the microwave. He watched you intently as you explained that folding the butter in slowly prevented gluey mashed potatoes rather than pouring it all in at once. "Also, next time I'll show you how to make from scratch. No more boxed mashed potatoes."

"I'd like that." He said. He didn't want to tell you that he in fact knew how to make mashed potatoes from scratch or that he made the best mashed potatoes from scratch. That he was better at making mashed potatoes from scratch than from a box but the box is what he had in the pantry because he forgot to go shopping.

He just needed another excuse to have you over. To have your sweet voice filling his ears about things he already knew. To listen to the way you gently interacted with his daughter like you knew her for her entire life. To listen to you call that damn dog Pickle over and over again no matter how silly it sounded.

"When did we get a damn dog?" Tommy walked into the kitchen carrying a case of beer and a watermelon in his hands. "Hey, there."

"That would be Pickle." Joel said and you almost snickered at how it sounded coming from his lips.

"I'm Tommy." Joel's brother introduced himself to you and you to him after the short explanation of why you were there for dinner. Joel silently cursed his brother for showing up even though this was the plan prior to your invitation. He simply enjoyed the time that you two had alone in the kitchen preparing dinner.

Tommy was handsome of course, just like his brother but Joel took the lead by a long shot. Guys your age were just alright but Joel was giving you feelings none of them ever could. Maybe it was the fact that he had probably about ten years on you, or the way that he never broke eye contact ever. You almost wanted to believe he was just trying to intimidate you, but he just wanted you to know that as long as you were present in front of him, his attention was yours.

Joel felt foolish to say the least. Crushing on the neighbor's niece when she'd be gone in a month was insanity. The man had barely even looked at another woman since Sarah's mother left. But here you were in front of him and he couldn't stop staring at every inch of you. You were absolutely stunning and he couldn't grasp the fact that you were standing in his kitchen on a Saturday evening helping him with dinner.

He could tell that Tommy was slowly taking a liking to you, watching the way his brothers eyes squinted when he smiled at anything you said, one of his old tricks that Joel had in fact taught him. Something so simple, but just made a woman feel like you were so much more invested in whatever they were saying. It was hard to read whether you were picking up on it, but all he could do was hope you weren't falling for his antics.

"Are you from Austin?" Sarah asked. Pickle was laying under her feet just hoping she would drop something but to his advantage, she was already sneaking him bites throughout the entire dinner without anyone noticing.

"I actually live in Dallas, but I've lived here for the most part since I was eighteen." You answered her.

"Oh, so you're in college." Tommy said glancing at his older brother. There was an inkling that if you were still in college Joel would fuck off and let his brother have a chance.

"I actually just graduated from UT. I have a bachelor's in biochemistry." You replied catching the glance, but you didn't make any note of it.

"Shit, so she's a genius." Tommy gaped. "Congratulations."

"That's impressive." Joel said to you and you gave him a small smile of appreciation, the words making your stomach flutter.

"Dad, I want to go to UT and get a degree in biochemistry too." Sarah said and you almost blushed at her words. Compliments from kids always felt slightly more important because they knew almost nothing of the world and had no filter, so if they complimented you it must be true.

"You can do whatever you put your heart to, kiddo." Joel said to her.

The four of you sat around the table and you explained to them how Pickle had come into your lives, how your dad used to bring you here to visit your aunt and what going to UT was like. They all were interested in hearing what attending one of the most popular schools in Texas especially because every once in a while they too liked attending a UT game or two. Joel of course soaked up every word, thankful he hadn't met you until now because if he had during your college days he would've not let himself have a single thought in that way about you.

But he didn't. So here he was, studying each feature on your face as you talked. From your jaw down to the curve of your neck where your collarbone met your shoulder, what it might feel like to sink his teeth into the skin there-

He was pulled from his thoughts as you and Sarah rose from the table gathering everyone's dishes. "You don't have to."

"I want to, Joel. No worries." You squeezed his shoulder in a reassuring manner that made his stomach flutter. Sarah was eager to follow in your footsteps, the two of you putting the leftovers away and handwashing the rest of the dishes. Joel and Tommy sat watching the two of you engaging in their in own conversation.

"You win, big brother." He muttered taking a sip from his beer.

"What's that s'posed to mean?" Joel asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Look at you, you're smitten. You've known her all of what? Two minutes? She barely gave me the time of day." Tommy sighed. "It's nice seeing you have a little crush since Sarah's mom left."

"I don't have a crush." Joel quickly shut his statement down. He could try to lie to himself but he knew it was true. "This ain't high school."

"I'm just saying. See where it goes." Tommy patted his big brother's shoulder.

Joel took another deep breath that came out as more of a sigh. "And if she's not...?"

"Move on. There's other fish in the sea." Tommy stood from his seat at the table. "Who wants ice cream?"

The gasp that left Sarah's lips was comical and you couldn't help but laugh at her reaction, "Dad, can we please?"

"Alright, alright." Joel laughed and your eyes met his for a moment. You looked away quickly, turning your attention back to Sarah. Eye contact was one of your specialties, something your dad taught you was important when you were a little girl, except when it came to Joel Miller apparently.

"I'm actually going to head home. Dinner was great though, thank you." You replied. As much as you wanted to join them for ice cream you didn't want to overstay your welcome.

"What? So soon?" Joel asked as if you hadn't spent the entire evening with him and his family. He wanted to punch himself for accidentally sounding so eager.

"Yeah, I'm still full from dinner so I'll pass on the ice cream and Pickle-"

"Maybe Pickle wants ice cream." Sarah interjected.

"Pickle looks like he wants some ice cream." Tommy added. "Just come along for the ride at least."

"Please please please." Sarah folded her hands as she stood in front of you staring up at you with pleading puppy dog eyes that you just couldn't say no to.

"Fine." You smiled and she squealed from happiness grabbing Pickle's leash from your hands.

"She really likes you." Joel laughed as the four of you walked out to Tommy's truck. You squeezed in the backseat with Sarah and Pickle and then Tommy drove you all to the ice cream shop up the road that was a fan favorite of everyone in the neighborhood.

Everyone got their favorite flavors and you even bought a little pup cup for the chubby boy that looked like he had already had twenty. Sarah had spoiled him at the dinner table and now here he was getting his own little ice cream.

You and Joel sat on the same side of the table across from Tommy and Sarah as you fed Pickle his ice cream slowly so he wouldn't inhale the entire thing. Just like you said earlier, you passed on getting your own cone because you did feel a little full from dinner still.

You almost sighed looking at Joel's ice cream and how good it looked, mindfully wishing you had gotten your own. Maybe your aunt had some stashed away in the freezer at home.

"Want a bite?" Joel asked catching your eyes lingering on his strawberry ice cream. Before you could object he scooped a spoonful and held it towards you. You rolled your eyes but opened your mouth anyways letting him feed you the ice cream. It hit you that the two of you were sitting quite close. Your knees were touching and you were shoulder to shoulder.

Neither Sarah nor Tommy noticed the tender moment, them being engaged in their own conversation about which ice cream flavor was better.

When you arrived back at the house, you waved Tommy and Sarah goodnight and Joel held Pickle's leash in his hand as he walked you back across the street to your front door.

Your fingertips brushed once again as he passed Pickle's leash back over to you. He leaned against the doorframe as he watched you open it and send Pickle inside.

"Thank you for having me. It's been a lonely week." You admit to him.

"Anytime." Joel replied. Not a man of many words it seems.

"Well, I'll see you around." You tell him, trying to avoid an awkward silence.

For the first time in a while, Joel was at loss for words. He wanted to compliment you, ask you out on a proper date maybe, but he choked. The idea of you turning him down, someone who you might think is a little too old for you made him anxious. He had barely just moved in a week ago and was already thinking of asking you out.

"Listen, uh, thanks for hanging out with Sarah today. She really enjoys your company, I can tell. Never seen the girl more excited to do dishes." He said before you could step inside.

"She's a good kid, Joel. You should be proud." You offer him a smile.

"Thanks." The smile that spread across his face was genuine. Nothing warmed his heart more than someone complimenting his parenting. It was rough on his own, but he did a damn good job if he says so himself.

"See you." You stood on your tiptoes in the spur of the moment and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. You're not sure why you did it or where the courage to do it even came from but you shut the door behind you before you could hear or see his reaction.

Joel cheesed like a kid in a candy story walking back to his new home across the street.

"You're certainly fucked that's for sure." Tommy laughed as he watched Joel walk up the porch steps, having just watched the entire encounter between you two. "Smitten little boy."

"Shut up." Joel shoved Tommy's shoulder, but he didn't even mind the teasing because he was right.

PREV|NEXT

[pettyprocrastination]

Hi!! How are you?

I would also love to hear/read more about Tess x Joel x reader!! ❤️❤️

im great!! I hope you are doing well too darling <3

___________

For the longest time, you think Tess and Joel are married. It's an honest mistake, really. Seeing the way they work together like a well-oiled machine and have done so for years leads you to think there's more to their relationship.

Which there is. But neither of them will admit it.

Tess is easier to talk to. Not to say she isn't scary as well because christ, you know the things she's capable of and make sure to never short her on a trade or a cut of the profits, but its different. She speaks. Even as she's looking over the haul from your last run to make sure you aren't skimping her out, she talks to you. Little jokes injected into every few sentences while looking over stock, the occasional remark in awe of "you were able to find this?" that filled you with pride each time in that raspy voice that kept you up at night.

Joel is silent.

He sits in the room and watches. Rarely uttering a word unless its to shoot down an idea for your next run because "FEDRA is getting antsy, unless you want to be on the execution list tomorrow I suggest you wait a few days." or to raise his nose at the oddities you've collected.

Like a proper guard dog, he watches and waits for a command.

The first time you speak to him alone, without Tess, is when it happens.

You had just told him that you were planning another run for tomorrow after making connections with another smuggler who wanted to meet. But the location was at least a two days walk from the QZ.

"You can't possibly be that stupid."

"Excuse me?"

His eyes narrow and he leans in. On instinct you shrink back and curse at yourself for doing so.

"You plan on meetin' somebody you've never worked with before and never seen in person, alone because of what? Blind trust?"

"Because of profit."

He snorts. "Yeah well somethin' tells me 'mutual profit' isn't what he has in mind. The answer is no." Your face grows hot under his criticism, his patronizing fucking voice and that stupid southern accent to the point where you grab at his shoulder when he turns away from you.

"I wasn't asking for permission, man. I was telling you. Just make sure that your wife knows I'm-"

There.

His head snaps back as if you had slapped him, staring at you with in shock before his eyes narrow into slits.

"What did you just say?"

His voice rumbles a low, warning timbre that makes your hands begins to shake despite your intentions of looking strong.

"I said-" the room suddenly feels smaller. Corners all too tight and the door too far for your liking because its hitting you know that youre alone with him and just how many times Tess has sent this man out to break some bones on her accord without a second word of it.

"I said." Your throat tightens and you force the words out. "I said to tell your wife-"

"She isn't my wife."

Oh.

"Oh!"

Joel shakes his head. His face scrunches up and shoulders pull in, you realize then that he isn't angry.

He's uncomfortable.

"Oh, I uh. Didn't know." The floorboards groan beneath you as you shift your weight from one foot to the other. "I just assumed that-"

"Well we aren't, alright?" He holds out a hand to stop your further explanation but it does nothing to hide the red tint creeping up his neck and ears. "She's just my-"

His voice fails him as he struggles to find the words to properly explain just what Tess is to him and him to her. The silence becomes all too consuming as he makes a vague gesture in the air. Flitting his fingers and waving his hand up and down in a way that perfectly encapsulates just how fucking complicated it is.

"I understand."

The situation has gone from terrifying to awkward so fast you could have laughed as you now try to soothe the nerves of the same man you worried was ten seconds away from snapping your wrist like a twig. "It's none of my business, really. Just-" You turn on your heel and cringe.

You'd rather him just break your wrist, honestly.

"Let Tess know when I'm leaving for the run, okay?"

"Push it back a week and we'll join you."

Your hands freezes, hovering over the doorknob and you look over your shoulder. Joel stands behind you, face in his hands.

"I'm sorry?"

He takes a deep breathe and looks at you with tired eyes. "If you can contact your man and get him to push the meeting by a week, Tess and I will go with you, alright? You need to have somebody there with you in case something happens."

He takes a step forward, broad shoulders boxing you in and he leans over and opens the door for you.

"Besides, you're the only one in the QZ who specializes in weird shit." Joel pulls back sighs. "Tess wants to keep the connection."

You don't bother hiding your smile from him.

"I prefer the term oddities." "Yeah? Well, I prefer the term headaches. Now fuck off so I can go talk to her."

Joel watches your form dash down the hall and disappear from his sight. He pinches the bridge of his nose and groans. His thoughts wander to you, then Tess.

Then you and Tess.

"Fuckin' moron."

[heavenfell-au]

✦ Memory Lane contest results ✦

First off, I want to thank the people that partook in the contest ! I can hardly imagine having to pick only one scene from my own story, so kudos to each one of you for managing to do it !

Now, without further ado, here's the first submission that was submitted on Discord, realized by Arplenoon !

« TW: Blood, injury, disturbing imagery

I got into Undertale and read Heavenfell back around 2020 and early 2021. There were a lot of things that happened to me in that time that deeply hurt me, separate from the anxiety of the pandemic, but probably had been brought on by it's pressures. Needless to say, I was having it rough. Abandoned, stalked and harassed by my former friends, I let my mind escape into Undertale AUs. Undertale AUs let me forget about myself. Going to work was hard. I'd sit in the breakroom, curled up, trying not to let my thoughts consume me- and often failing. It was during that time, huddled in one of the bigger chairs at work, I read Heavenfell every day for a week.

It was cathartic for me, and helped me process a lot of what I was going through. Even though I wasn't anywhere close to the same situation Frisk found themself in, the scenes where they spiraled in thoughts about their life on the surface resonated with me- Because that was me, tormented by the same demons. Someone knew what I was going through, and I wasn't alone.

I can confidently say that because of that I'm still here today.

Thank you. »

I can already tell you that this hits hard. You've selected a scene from Their Wings that hits very close to home, and I absolutely adore the way you've depicted Frisk's torments, which each bone digging into them carved with words that the ghosts of their past said, cutting them through and through. I love the fact that those bones, along with the vivid red of their clothes, blood and their soul tearing apart pop out against the darkness that surrounds them, all that that giant skeletal hands are craddling them in their palms, giving the sensation that they're at the mercy of death itself as they scream in absolute despair, or in that case, Sans if not both of the skeleton brothers. I really appreciate that we can also see the remnants of Flowey, illustrated here, reminding us the impact of his loss in the story, that he was Frisk's guardian but also their best friend, leaving them stranded in their time of need. There are so many little details here and there that tell about that specific part of Frisk's story, making such an impactful delivery of the message, alongside with the silhouettes that haunt them in their turmoil, ever so faded and yet, very present.

For the technique, it's an amazing artpiece made with watercolors. It's such a difficult media for me to handle, and it's always so mesmerizing to see you realize one of them, and this time, having to handle with so many shades of black. I wish I had an ounce of patience and technique that you have when handling that medium, making me all the more admirative of your craft. The execution is great, for the colors are vibrant against the deep shades of black, and I'm always admirative of people that are able to use that paint type without their paper curling, which requires some type of preparation and knowledge ! The result of this gorgeous illustration, with that particular attention to the red and white colors clashing with the deep black makes it absolutely chilling and nerve-wracking, even more so with how well you illustrated Frisk's agony. You could almost hear their screams. Gorgeous, I'm devouring this work of art. It is delicious.

Next submission is from Cao-the-Dreamer on Tumblr !

« « More like “Adorable Dog” for me ! » you said.

My entry for #HeavenfellContest2024 by @heavenfell-au ! I choose the scene in chapter 15 (Sweet Brothers), where Frisk meets A.D. :3 Whenever I think of Their Wings, it is the first scene that comes to my mind. Is it because I love animals? Because it was a moment of fluff and peace amidst Frisk's painful journey? I think it's both. And yes, the dog is adorable <3

I've been working with shadow puppets for a while now, and I decided to try my hand with Eowyn's characters. I really liked the result! (I've been inspired by Michel Ocelot's works) :3

Here is le théâtre d'ombre in broad daylight: »

You know what ? Seeing your submission made me smile so much ! A.D is such a good pupper and I'm so glad it got to get the spotlight ! (badumtss)

It is such a lovely take on their proper encounter, and the way you portrayed it is so simple, yet so effective and I absolutely love it, for it provides that vision of their bonding experience, as A.D remembered what Frisk did to save its life, and was willing to give them a chance in return. And the way they're staring deep into each other's gaze is so precious and tender, you know what the energy it gives me ? How to train your Dragon vibes, with Hiccup and Toothless having that very unique and special bond. That's what it makes me think of, and the fact that you picked that very tiny scene, for the reasons you mentioned, I'm fucking tearing up at this. I just adore your portrayal of their friendship, and how you selected a simple moment of peace and love in that dark and painful story of Their Wings.

You know what else amazed me ? The medium you used for your submission ! I love how you took the risk to use another type of media, to experience with shadow puppets. Looking back at Michel Ocelot's work, I can definitely see the inspiration, and it's such a nice way to make a tribute to another amazing artist ! I have never experimented with shadow puppets myself, to be honest, I've never thought of it being an option, and that submission was a very pleasant surprise ! I'm very happy you got to choose that medium, despite your drawing talents, I absolutely love people trying out things and taking the risk in a contest itself even  ! As I stated above, it is even moreso unique, and the execution is fantastic. The simplicity makes it all the more enjoyable, for such a simple scene, putting all the energy into the characters and the formation of their friendship, all put together thanks to the light source that gives into that intimate atmosphere. Plus, I can tell that while it is a simple looking result, it must have taken a lot of time having to carve and assemble all the pieces together, without counting the measuring, the placements and the light play. Un grand bravo for this artwork, it definitely lingered on my mind for the rest of the day when I've laid my eyes on it.

Last submission by victenSam !

« The illustration in Chapter 5 – Sweet Trap was one the first scenes that stuck with me, I enjoy the happy vibes. I brought it to life with minor dramatic liberties taken to spice up this short cutscene while still maintaining the overall feel. A paragraph done old-school video-game style, all recorded within a game engine. A happy moment that preludes the turning point of the story.

Reading through Heavenfell felt really inspiring to me. They really put it all in not just the writing, but in all the illustrations, character designs and singing. Not to mention how they’re rocking it in 3D modelling outside Heavenfell as well! This sincere multimedia externalization brought into the fan-work amazed me and helped me give myself a bit of a push to keep pursuing and learning things to hone my own craft. Unfortunately, due to the nature of both game development and making, it became quite a solitary effort on my part. And so, as both a way to honor their work and apply what I’ve been learning, I decided to make a game related entry within the schedule and theme of this contest. I honestly didn’t think I could pull something like this off; I’m glad I tried and I’m happy with the results.

There’s modelling, texturing, sound design, music, coding and directing all creatively put together only by myself just for this piece of animation. I leaned a lot of new things and tested whole new methods and theories in the making of the cutscene. I could go into a lot of details on how every element came together, but I’ll leave that open for any questions that come my way to avoid huge tangents. I hope you all enjoy this little piece of memory. »

Wow.

Just... Wow.

For sure, that one got me gobsmacked. And if the previous submission hadn't gotten me smiling like an idiot, I found myself in absolute awe and I hardly repressed the giggle at the end ! I was breathtaken by the pressing atmosphere until the very moment that those two friends finally let go of the fear and laughed it out, finding myself to do the same, letting go of a breath that I hadn't realized I had stuck in my throat. The fact that you've taken so much time to not just illustrate, but make an entire animation had me floored !! It definitely reminded me of that one illustration that I made myself about that specific scene where Flowey and Frisk were laughing in relief, laying in the snow. That was such a nice little reference, and that made me smile even more! That was a very interesting scene that you picked, all the more heartbreaking knowing what comes afterwards, and that makes me cherish that moment all the more. There was so much nostalgy that I felt there, even felt myself mourning all over again, that was a very strange experience, but I welcome it. Thank you so much for showing Flowey the love he deserved <3

Oh god, there's so much to tell. It is truly a work of art. There's so many mediums put into play there, as you said, there was modeling, there was texturing, sound design and music, and even coding. I also can imagine the storyboard to create the scenes, and all of those details that we happen to forget at times, just so you can render a cutscene of my written story. Truly, I was not only floored by the story telling through your eyes, but by the amount of work you put into this ! It was an amazing surprise to see that kind of work appear for this contest, you're a very talented content creator and this animation is proof of it, knowing that it was made in a game mechanic mind. I lack the words to say how good the technique is for it exceeds anything that I ever imagined. Watching it over and over again, I keep hoping that someday, you get to make an entire game, or even to be hired because there's an incredible potential in you ! It's inspiring seeing how much of your blood and sweat were put into this in record time, I could never hope to do anything like that myself, making me all the more admirative. My best kudos to you, Sam, and thank you for honouring my work this way. <3

That's all for the submissions for Memory Lane. I'm extremely glad that you three had participated, though it feels unfair now to judge your creations when there were only so many participants, which made it harder for me to make decisions, as curious as it is. I've been wondering whether I just let go of the Prize system to give you all the same one, but it kind of goes against a contest, doesn't it ? So I'll still announce the results. Know that each one of your creations made me feel a certain type of way, and I cherished every single one of them. For different reasons, you all deserved the first place, but rules being the rules, I had to be realistic, which is why the importance of technique was there.

So comes to third place, Arplenoon, with his heart-wrenching painting !

To the second place comes Cao the Dreamer, with a very moving shadow puppet !

And the first place goes to victenSAM with his breathtaking cutscene !!

Since I wanted to thank you personally for giving my contest a chance, you all will have an extra in your prizes, as a way to find a middle ground with my prior tug of war <3 Thank you so much for the amount of love you gave to this project. I'll come in contact with you so we can discuss the prize shipping and all the like !

I'll also be reblogging the artpieces posted on tumblr for everyone to enjoy !

[bonny-kookoo]

Taehyung: Long Way Home

In which Kim Taehyung finds more in you than just a pet or offering.

Tags/Warnings: King!Taehyung, Hybrid!Reader, dog hybrid!reader, magic and other fantasy elements, fluff, only minor angst

Length: mid/long

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"Don't you want to dance as well?" a young man asks you, standing next to you in a dark robe that covers his face almost completely. He seems to try and stay hidden, and while it would certainly induce fear in anyone else, you know there's no I'll intent with him. There's definitely magic coming from him, it's pure, and untainted in nature.

No one with dark intentions would be giving you such a feeling.

"I'm a hybrid, sir." you tell him, tail swaying from side to side behind you, barely peeking out underneath your dirtied dress. "I highly doubt the townsfolk would be delighted by something like me participating in such actions." you joke, before you look ahead again. "I'm content with simply watching, and imagining." you say, while he chuckles next to you, moving a bit closer now that he knows you are alright with his presence and interaction. Even though your bodies aren't touching, the side where he stands close to tingles almost with the magic he possesses.

"what a curious way to live." he says more or less to himself, before he looks down to you. "would you like to accompany me for a meal, instead of dreaming?" he asks, and you grin impishly.

"If the one that offers pays for it as well?" you ask, and he laughs- before he nods, hand appearing from beneath his long cloak.

"Of course." he says, his smile the only thing you can see, eyes hidden by the large hood of his cloak.

You take his hand at that, walking with him to a tavern you've never been to before. It's small and way further away from the regular town that it at first made you curious if he was instead kidnapping you- but then you both walk in, and an elderly lady smiles at the sigh of him.

"ah, I see you brought a friend with you this time around." she greets, grinning at you in a friendly manner. "you're skin and bones my darling, let's get you both something warm to eat!" she eagerly says, before disappearing to probably fetch just that.

As the two of you sit down, he doesn't lift his hood at all- he stays hidden, though you're used to a lot of people doing just that. "are you always this naive around strangers?" he asks you, and you shake your head.

"my senses never betray me." you explain. "you're not one of darkness, so I saw no harm in agreeing to your offer." you say, and he nods.

"curious." he says. "so you can sense magic?" he wonders, and you nod.

Not many are able to, at least not to the extend that you are- not even many hybrids possessing the gift of sight as it is called. "I was gifted with the sight at birth." you tell him. "and while it does make life difficult sometimes, I am grateful to have it." you say.

"how so?" he asks. "does it make life difficult, I mean."

"it can become quite overwhelming, especially during crowded nights like these. Sleep doesn't come easy for me here, since there's magic in almost everything." you tell him, posture straightening while your eyes begin to sparkle at the sight of steaming stew and warm bread being placed on the table, your tail wagging and knocking against the wooden chair rhythmically, making the man smile.

"my my, someone's hungry! Eat up you two." the lady says, leaving you both alone again. You dig in eagerly, not wasting any time as you almost burn your tongue. You don't seem to care that he's watching- eating a lot slower, but mainly so because he's amused at your carefree mannerisms. It's a breath of fresh air to him, in a way.

"what do you think about the king?" he suddenly asks, making you stop in your motions for a second.

"what.. Why do you ask that?" you say, slowing down your eating, ears flattening in distrust of the situation. Even though your hybrid ears are floppy and not at all like the tall and proud wolf ears he's seen in other hybrids, they're still very expressive.

"I just wonder. Everyone's got an opinion, and I'd like to hear yours." he says, eating a lot more civilized than you.

"My opinion is not worth anything." you tell him, though he shakes his head.

"you are of honest nature, I can tell. Therefore, your opinion is worth a lot." he clarifies, as you shrug.

"Still, I cannot judge whom I've never met." you tell him, shaking your head a little as your ears relax. "Though there's tales of things happening at the royal court, things especially concerning my kind, so therefore my thoughts of him are.. Tainted, to say the least." you explain, blowing on your spoon full of stew before you bring it between your lips.

"what do the tales tell of?" he wonders.

"Of hybrids used for pleasure and entertainment. Kept as pets, traded as items of wealth." you say, suddenly looking very somber. "..I know the tales speak the truth."

"how can you be so sure?" the man asks, honestly concerned over your change in mood.

"because I have received the letter myself." you say, letting the wooden spoon fall into the now empty bowl. "because I am about to become just that; A pet." you say, quietly so, and he hurts himself at the sight of your ears drooping, gaze lowered.

"I'm sorry." he says, quietly so, and you wonder what he means, before he calls the lady over to pay for the meal.

Outside the tavern, he turns around to you. "go home right away. It would pain me to hear that you've been harmed by the drunken townsfolk tonight, especially since it was me keeping you up." he says, and you nod.

"thank you for the meal, sir." you say, bowing politely- though the way you lift your dress a little in an overdone manner tells him of your joking nature.

He chuckles. "thank you for your company." he says, before you both part ways.

This night, you don't sleep at all.

And neither does he.

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"aren't you excited?" the lady asks, brushing your hair a little roughly- but you don't say anything.

You've been lectured to stay quiet at all costs, and you won't test your luck with any of the staff here at all, be it maids or guards. You've heard lots of horror stories about hybrids at the royal castle, and what they're used for- and you hope that won't be your fate. The king is said to be cold, a man ruling with an iron fist, who doesn't shy away from confrontation at all if needed. You don't know if all the tale are true, but you also don't plan on testing it out.

So you just nod.

"you're a quiet one. That's fine." she tells you, finishing your hair for you. "I do believe the King will be happy with you. You're very pleasing to look at." she grins while she playfully puts your ears in a standing position before letting them fall back down, putting the brush away as she places her hands on your shoulders. "I am not supposed to chatter about this, but he needs a companion urgently, if one was to ask me. The man is quite lonely, even for a King." she sighs.

You become nervous a that, of what she could mean- but before she can say anything else, two guards enter the room. They simply nod, before you're escorted down the hall you came through after the chain is connected to your collar, the guards leading you downstairs by the leash, naked feet of yours hesitant as they walk over the cold decorative tiles on the ground. You don't dare look up- even as the large doors to the throne room open, you simply let yourself be led.

"Ah, there! Your majesty, the Kingdom of Milwin gifts you a companion, as we've done to your father and his own in the past." the messenger of Milwin says, though you cannot see him from your spot kneeled down, sitting on your knees while your behind rests on your heels. "This one has the gift of sight- a rare gem that shall be of great use to you in your further life as a king. She is the first female with this ability as well!" the messenger tells him. It's quiet for a while, before a deep voice speaks up, filling the entire throne room it seems.

"What is her name?" The King asks, and you want to look up badly- but you don't. You can't. You're not allowed to, always remember that. Even so, the voice is familiar- though you do believe that there's a lot of people sharing the sams voice in this world. It could all just be reality playing tricks on you- your mind trying to comfort your body by creating something that is not true.

"She does not have one. It is for you to choose." the messenger replies, the guard next to you moving a bit in his spot to adjust his stance.

"I accept." The King says, and it feels like both a burden has been lifted- and exchanged for an even heavier one in it's place. Now you're his, you won't go home- though home would be a stretch. There is no home to go back to, no place you could consider your own. From now on, home would be where he tells you it is- if he tells you, that is. "You may leave. I wish for a safe return." he offers, as everyone but you start to move out the throne room.

It's quiet for a long time, before you can hear his steps- jewellery making a distinctive sound as he moves over to you.

He reaches out, and at first, you think it's to inspect your face maybe, ears instinctively moving backwards in a submissive manner- but then you hear the click, before the end of the chain falls to the ground. "That collar is hideous." he comments, almost amused. "I'll have something better made for you- something more fitting." he mumbles more or less to himself, before he stands up again. You're unsure what to do now, rather staying where you are before he chuckles. "come on." he says, before you get up, following him after picking up your leash, chain heavy in your hands. "you won't need that." he carefully says, taking it away from you before he carelessly throws it somewhere you can't see, harsh sound making you flinch a little.

"Did you rest yet? I believe your journey here must've been a long one." he asks, and you're now struggling to answer silently to this- so you just shake your head a little, making him sigh before his hand tips your shin up, forcing you to close your eyes. "Look at me." he says, and you refuse for a second- before he repeats the command. "Look at me. That's not a request." he says more sternly, and you're forced to open your eyes and look at him.

He does look like royalty.

It's the first thing you have to think as you look at his face. He's got sharp eyes, distinctive features, and a face that just screams royalty to you. It's evident that his bloodline has been occupying the throne for centuries by now- you can see it clearly. "There we go. A lot better." He tells you, face softening as he let's go of you. "Its fairly late. I suppose an early rest for the both of us would be wise." he says, moving to leave his heavy coat on the throne, before he takes your hand into his.

You still don't look up much as he leads you to what you assume is his room- hand warm as it holds onto yours, memories of a last encounter filling your head. You skin tingles where you touch.

Your heart is pounding while your thoughts race about. What will he do? What will happen to you? After all, you've heard what hybrids are seen as in the royal palace- glorified pets, expensive companions both to show off and well.. Use. "I assume the maids did not provide a separate place for you to sleep." he says, opening his room with a sigh.

You shake your head to tell him it's fine- and he smiles at you a little. "whatever you have been taught, you are allowed to talk to me. In fact, I'd appreciate if you did." he asks, and you nod at that. "so- would you like a room set up for you?"

"It isn't necessary, your highness." you say, and he smiles a bit wider, undoing the cuffs for his shirt.

"I didn't ask that." he says, though there is humor in his tone now. He's a lot more playful it seems, not at all like the cold voice heard in the throne room, or the monstrous ruler fold in tales. But maybe that's just his way of luring you in.

"I'm fine sleeping wherever you'd like me to." you say, and he nods.

"I believe your kind tends to sleep in groups, correct?" he asks, and you nod. "It makes sense for you then to stay here. I can have someone set up a separate bed for you if you'd like." he says, and you nod after a moment. Even if you dont trust him, it's better than sleeping alone.

When the maids set up a small bed at the end of his own bed, you simply watch, giving the king privacy as he gets ready for his nightly rest. The two women leave quietly, not even noticing you it seems- before Taehyung comes back out of his bathroom, upper body bare as he casually makes his way to his bed. "we will talk more thoroughly tomorrow." he tells you as you sit on the smaller but awfully comfortable bed for you. "goodnight. And do not hesitate to call out if you need anything." he urges, a hand casually petting your head for a second before he turns off the light at the side of his bed, dipping the room in darkness.

You listen to him move for a moment until he settles, before you lay down as well. It's quiet, but not unsettling- exhaustion of the journey by now catching up to you. You yawn, curling up on yourself before you close your eyes-

Hoping that this won't end too badly for you.

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You've always been a light sleeper.

It's no wonder therefore that you instantly notice when he starts to wake up, moving around in the bathroom while you're still battling to wake up. You hear him laugh under his breath at the sight of you- barely sitting, eyes still closed, unable to force them open just yet. "I tried being quiet, but I guess that's no use for your ears- or senses in general." he jokes, fingers petting one of your feline ears for a second. "you can sleep later; right now, breakfast is waiting for us." he says, making you nod as you get up.

"uhm.. Your highness-"

"Taehyung when it's just the two of us, please." he corrects. "go on."

"T-Taehyung, uhm.. Where can I get ready?" you wonder, as he points to ghe bathroom he'd used.

"I don't believe in whatever rules they've set concerning me and you. we're equals, what's mine is yours." he explains, though you don't know if you can trust his word. You're still on edge- what if he's testing you?

You slowly walk into the bathroom, ready at any second to stop your movements- but he simply continues to get dressed, casually so as if you're not even there.

Down in the throne room, it's certainly awkward as you sit down at his side, a maid bringing you a set of dishes after Taehyung had requested it, visibly irritated at the sight of no spot prepared for you at the breakfast table. "If I may give my thoughts to this, Your Highness, but a pet at the table we eat at-"

"You may not." Taehyung simply cuts him off, tone not at all like it's been towards you this morning. He doesnt even spare the man a single glance, more so occupied with helping you for some of the foods on the table. "And she is not a pet, but a companion. Do not refer to her as anything lower than that, Chung." he says, still not looking at the man.

"forgive me, your highness." chung simply mumbles, before he continues to eat.

Later, as everyone has left, you're sitting at the sidelines while Taehyung trains with a young soldier named Jungkook- a curious young man, though without any magic in his veins. It makes you a bit more calm, a yawn barely escaping as Taehyung walks up to you for a break. "I told you; you can rest if you'd like. You have sleep to catch up on, after all." he tells you, and you nod a little, though you do not move. It's only when he sits down next to you, and his hand on your shoulder moves you down to have you lay your head on his thigh, that you look up at him.

It's the sight of his soft smile as he looks at the young soldier playing around doing tricks with his wooden sword, that you ask the question that's been itching you for a long time now. "Have we met before?" you ask, and the thumb of the hand still on your shoulder starts to move a little.

He simply chuckles, before he looks down and moves a finger to his lips. "Let's keep it a secret between you and myself." he impishly says, and your eyes widen.

"I knew I've felt that magic before." you say without thinking, making him laugh to himself.

"I'll take it as a compliment." he says.

"Is it fine if I sleep like this?" you wonder, and he nods. "No- Like, will you get in trouble? Like this morning?" you meekly wonder, making him store for a second, before he shakes his head with a boyish smile.

"You're too good for this world." he says, before he continues. "I won't get in trouble. Don't worry." he promises.

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And so you accept his offer, and curl up close to him, sun warming you up while his hand stays on your shoulder.

And somehow, you don't feel like this was such a bad change to your life at all.

Maybe the king isn't such a cold cruel man.