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#oh ive had too much coffee i'm so sorry
vvanillavveins · 17 days
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Horror podcasts will never fail to validate all my ridiculous behaviours. Like, sure, i may be doomed to spend every social interaction uncontrollably offering everyone cups of tea/coffee, repeatedly & regardless of their answer- either as a genuine act of service or just a stim- even if i'm the one visiting their house. And sure, it annoys the shit outta everyone around me- but hey, it's not all bad; at least Martin Blackwood gets me.
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wileys-russo · 5 months
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spontaneous II l.williamson x reader
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just some fluff because she's so annoying gf coded spontaneous II l.williamson x reader
you jumped slightly as you heard your phone start to ring, hunting about in the mountain of cushions you were curled up in to find it, huffing in annoyance as it stopped ringing.
you paused for a moment and breathed a sigh of relief as it started to ring again, finally finding it wedged down the side of the lounge, pulling it out with a grunt, squealing as you almost sent yourself toppling off the edge.
"hello?" you breathed out, hearing an all too familiar chuckle on the other end of the line. "why are you so out of breath?" leah asked and you could already tell she had an amused smile curled into her lips.
"did you lose your phone in the lounge again?" she questioned with a chuckle. "no!" you huffed, only rewarded with silence. "yes." you admitted quietly, leahs laugh ringing through as you whined it wasn't funny.
"is there a reason you called besides to take the piss out of me? the whole point of you not being home is that i get a break from that." you rolled your eyes as now she was the one to huff. "hey! i was calling because i missed you." leah groaned as you now laughed.
"you left three hours ago lee. what do you really want?" you questioned with a smile, knowing her all too well. "so there's this campaign i'm doing with some of the england girls-" leah started as you hummed that you were listening along.
"-and i'm going to do something for it. ive made up my mind and i don't want you try and talk me out of it, okay?" your girlfriend continued firmly as you hummed again in agreeance, eyebrows knitting into a suspicious frown. "okay."
"i'm cutting a fringe. well, bangs? i dunno the technical term. but i'm doing it!" leah stated as you winced. "just for the campaign? baby..." you started, hesitation clear in your voice.
"i told you love, my mind is made up." "leah is this really the best idea." "yes! it's just hair babe, it grows back." "well yeah but fringes, bangs, whatever, they take time to get used to. don't you want to think this over a little?" "i have! i had a fringe in the picture they're using so it makes sense to cut one, fully commit you know."
"leah-" you started again, the blonde cutting you off saying she was being called back to set. "i love you and i'll see you at home my pretty girl. mwah!" and with an air kiss blown she'd hung up.
with a sigh you very carefully placed your phone on the coffee table, eliminating the possibility of losing it again as you shook your head. you'd always loved how spontaneous leah could be, the blonde whisking you out on surprise picnics, dinners, dates.
but the impulsive last minute weekends away were a little different than a spontaneous decision to cut her hair. though you suppose you should be grateful it was a hair cut and not a tattoo, not that that was something you'd put past the older girl.
"only me!" you heard the front door slam shut as you looked up from the pile of laundry you were currently sorting through, dropping the hoodie in your hands you vowed to return to finish this later. you really didn't have much of a choice given the clothes were scattered all over the bed you'd need to sleep in tonight.
"welcome hom- oo you brought pizza!" you realised happily, spotting the boxes in her hands right as leah dropped them on the counter, skidding to a stop in front of them. "god i love you." you sighed happily, flipping open the first box and inhaling the godly smell.
"excuse me!" leah cleared her throat, offended that your shared dinner was currently getting more of your attention than she was. "sorry baby. hello!" you turned to her with a smile, pecking her lips a few times and turning back to the food.
"oi! sexy girlfriend with a new haircut is feeling neglected and under appreciated here." leah huffed again as you reached for a slice of pizza, spinning back to face her with wide eyes. "oh yeah! sorry my love." you apologized with a sheepish smile, actually focusing on her now.
"do you like it?" leah wondered as you tucked a strand behind her ear, staring at her as always awestruck by her beauty, forever in disbelief she was your girlfriend. "i love it baby, it really suits you." you beamed, eyes scanning over the way her fringe framed her face.
"it's longer than i thought though." you added, hands cupping her cheeks and gently turning her face side to side. "can you tie it back?" you questioned, tangling your hands in her hair and pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.
"not yet, but it grows fast." leah shrugged, pulling you back into her for another kiss and you hummed. "what was that for?" the blonde frowned at your small noise. "what? i didn't say anything." you laughed, leaning up to kiss her but she craned her neck away.
"no. your little hmm, i know that tone missy!" leah warned making you roll your eyes. "it doesn't mean anything. i love it leah, honestly i'm in disbelief that you could somehow get more beautiful but here you are proving me wrong." you smiled charmingly, again leaning up to kiss her but she pulled away again.
"hey! kiss me." you smacked her chest lightly with an unimpressed scowl. "tell me what you really think." leah spoke with a huff, grabbing your hands in hers and staring you down.
"i wasn't lying, i really do think it suits you baby and you look beautiful."
"but?"
“but i think after a few days the not being able to tie it back is going to get on your nerves." you smiled apologetically and honestly.
"it won't! i can tuck it behind my ears, see?" she dropped your hands and showed you as you nodded. "you asked and i answered lee, i'm not trying to get into a debate about it with you." you chuckled at her stubbornness, turning away from her.
"i thought you wanted a kiss?" your girlfriend seemingly returned to her normal self, giving you a boyish grin and raising her eyebrows. "mmm i did but you decided to play twenty questions and now i want pizza." you teased, hauling yourself up onto the counter.
leah moved between your legs, dropping her bag on the floor as her hands played with the hem of your shorts. though before she could say another word your stomach interrupted, growling loudly and hungrily.
"told you i wanted pizza." you grinned, biting down happily on the slice in your hand. "such a gremlin." leah shook her head, grabbing your wrist and stealing a bite of your slice.
"oh please you love me."
“far too much for my own good i'm afraid baby girl."
~
and sure enough, your words were proven true just two days after you'd spoke them.
you awoke to the sound of groaning, sitting up tiredly and rubbing your face as you spotted leahs back to you, the girl hunched over in your ensuite.
"babe what's wrong?" you yawned, stretching and settling back against the headboard. "it's such a pain in my ass!" leah groaned loudly again and you managed an amused smile as she slumped down on the bathroom counter resting her head on her arms.
"leah what are you on about?" you chuckled, now a little more awake as the blonde stood and marched back into the bedroom. "it's killing me!" the defender moaned loudly, collapsing onto the bed dramatically with a sigh.
"what is?" you laughed, poking at her as she sat up with a huff. "look!" she gestured to her fringe which was sticking out at all sorts of awkward angles. "it won't sit right." leah growled, trying to style it with her fingers as you grinned.
"don't say it." "i'm gonna say it." "please don't say it!" "well now i have to say it."
"baby!" leah whined, smacking the bed with her hand and pouting at you. "i was right, i told you it would annoy you that you couldn't tie it back." you grinned happily, leah groaning even louder and once more dramatically flopping back into bed.
"i hate it when you're right." she mumbled into her pillow as you gently massaged the back of her neck with a smile. "thats because you're an aries." you chuckled as she turned her head to fix you with a scowl.
"now is not the time for your biased zodiac bullshit. i need help! i have training." leah whined, kicking her legs like a disgruntled toddler and settling with a huff. "help me." she pouted up at you as you shook your head, kissing away at her lips for a moment.
"come on." you chuckled, swinging yourself out of bed and offering her a hand up. "you're such a baby." you laughed, bending down and grabbing her hands, hauling her taller body up with a huff as she collapsed into you. "am not." she mumbled into your shoulder.
"leah!" you laughed again as she sagged her full body weight into you, dragging her with you to the bathroom with some struggle. "sit down." you pushed her to sit on the closed lid of the toilet.
"needy." you teased as her fingers gripped your hips and she pouted again, tapping her lips expectantly as you peppered them with gentle kisses.
"you just need to style it, we can go back to the salon and get the right products but this will have to do for now." you rummaged through your side of the vanity, pulling out a few things.
within a few minutes you'd gotten her fringe to sit not too differently to how they had the day she'd got them cut, gesturing for her to look in the mirror. "oh you're a miracle worker." leah sighed in relief as you hummed, reaching past her to put the products back.
"i love you. so so so much!" leah grabbed you suddenly, dipping your body as you squealed and she attacked your face with kisses. "okay okay! let me up romeo." you pushed at her shoulders, quite worried she'd drop you as she twirled you, spinning your body into hers with a wolfish grin.
"okay princess charming go and get ready for training!" you smiled with a shake of your head. "mm wanna save some water with me? it's good for the environment baby." leah suggested, gripping onto you tighter.
"would you like breakfast before you leave?" you challenged with a raise of your eyebrows. "because a hangry grumpy leah williamson isn't good for the environment either, i think i'm doing your team a favor making sure you're fed." you teased, pinching her sides as her hands moved to squeeze your bum, leah stealing the breath from your lungs with a searing kiss before she let you go.
"to the kitchen with you then woman!" she shooed you off as you gave her a look, hands on hips. "i mean please make me some food gorgeous?" she tried again with a charming smile as you hummed, leaving her behind to get ready.
she returned around twenty minutes later, kissing your cheek in thanks as she stole a piece of bacon off your plate as if she didn't already have a pile on hers. "hey! that is not how i styled them." you finally took her in as she sat on the island with her plate, fringe pushed back with a thick black headband.
"yeah but this way they're out of my face for when i run! and it looks sexy, no?" leah smirked, shoveling a mouthful of eggs into her mouth as you grimaced, forever warning her to taste her food and not to just inhale it, worried sometimes she'd choke.
"maybe if i harbored some deeply rooted secret affliction for ralph macchio. you look ridiculous!" you shook your head, flipping your omelette.
"ridiculously good looking baby." leah winked, having already nearly finished her plate of food and eyeing off your bacon.
"i don't know where you put it sometimes." you rolled your eyes and handed her your plate as she kissed your hand in thanks. "i burn it off with all my hardcore training, obviously!" leah retorted with a mouthful of food and you grimaced at her in disgust.
"see this is what your mum and i mean when we say sometimes we think you're possessed by a teenage boy." you rolled your eyes, dropping your omelette onto your place and smothering it with tomato sauce.
"leah!" you scowled as she burped loudly. "proving my point here." you pointed your fork at her menacingly as she shrugged. "you're the one whose hopelessly in love with me, sounds like a personal issue." she pushed your head to the side as she dumped her plate in the sink.
"go away already would you? i have five blissful hours of peace and quiet on the agenda that you're interrupting." you sighed happily, taking her seat at the counter as leah now rolled her eyes, grabbing her slides from by the door and shoving them into her gym bag.
"you're such a delight in the mornings. charming as ever darling!" leah chuckled with a shake of her head. "had you not been up before me moaning and groaning about your hair i'd have been the one dealing with you being a delight and refusing to get up thanks." you warned, swallowing a mouthful and offering some to leah who grimaced at the vegetables present.
"too many colours for me." she joked, pushing your outstretched fork back toward your own mouth. "sorry i forgot not only are you possessed by a teenage boy you've got the flavour pallet and patience of a toddler." you added on.
"excuse me what is it pick on leah morning? and you say i'm a bully!" the blonde scoffed in disbelief, hugging you from behind and slumping her body into yours. "i don't say you're a bully you're just incredibly annoying like...eighty percent of the time. other than that you're very sweet!" you grinned, squirming as she exhaled unhappily into your neck.
"ow! leah." you yelped as she suddenly bit your shoulder, and not in the way you normally enjoyed. "its how i show my love, since i'm so annoying." she grumbled, doing it again as you pushed your back into her sending her stumbling back.
"sorry love i didn't realise you were so sensative." you craned your head back to pout up at her sarcastically. "the sarcasm is not missed and not appreciated young lady." the blonde retorted, kissing you none the less.
"i am six months younger than you, nanna!" "key word being...younger?" "sorry i'll be sure to start telling everyone my girlfriends a cougar." "mm i prefer milf personally." "secret child you're not telling me about then?" "yeah hundreds of them." "god an army of tiny williamsons? think i've seen that before in a nightmare!"
"ah! no biting." you yelled, smacking her as she bit you again, though this time not as hard. "hardly call you a milf when you are such a child yourself." you huffed, rubbing at your shoulder where there was a perfectly indented teeth mark.
"can't blame me with this attitude you're showing me woman, you normally don't mind a few cheeky marks." leah gently kissed over it with a wink as you flicked her forehead and pushed her away from you.
"go brush your teeth milf, and fix that hair!" you shoved her away again as she pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek, mocking your words and jogging back upstairs.
"i'll see you later then babe, try not to miss me too much." returning downstairs after she'd brushed her teeth she gave you a minty kiss goodbye, grabbing her bag off the table where she'd left it.
"leah." you called after her as she raised an eyebrow, hand on the doorknob. "forgetting something?" you questioned, an amused smile on your lips. "no?" your girlfriend frowned in confusion. "so how are you getting to training then?" you asked again as her frown deepened.
"oh." she realised, face blushing bright red and darting to grab her car keys from the bowl in the kitchen. "told you we need to get some hooks for them." you mumbled against her lips with a smile as she kissed you in thanks.
"i'll grab some on my way home, just text me if we need anything else."
"try not to hurt anyone today, karate kid." you teased, waving her goodbye as she made some sort of strange war cry noise, kicking out her leg and catching the hallway table, sending a few things crashing to the floor and a long string of curse words into the air as she hopped around clutching her foot.
before she could even speak her phone pinged in her hand. "did you just text me to replace what fell down and broke?" leah sighed knowingly, adjusting her bag on the shoulder.
"you told me to if we needed anything." you grinned, the blonde unable to argue as she blew you a kiss and with a loud mwah, the door slammed and she was gone.
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angel-kyo · 5 months
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Pay it no mind
Part VI
In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).
Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself. There is an implication of reader dying (but they don't).
Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V
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When you entered the coffee shop, Haruki was already sitting at a table in the corner.
He got up to greet you when he saw you approaching. “Did you have any trouble to find this place?”
You sat in front of him. “Not really. I actually had been nearby some days ago for work and saw it,” you replied.
He smiled. “Oh, does being a teacher involve much work outside the school?”
So, the work part had not been a lie, but being a little more explicit, you had been exorcising a curse. Of course, you could not tell him that.
You smiled back. “I don’t know about other schools, but sometimes we have to run errands here and there.” Haruki nodded, and you decided to change the subject before he could dig further. “Anyway, should we order?”
Over iced coffee and tea, you and Ikeda caught up on pretty much everything you had missed during your years apart. The elderly uncle he had moved in with years ago had passed away just before he finished high school, so with no family left in the country other than his avoidant father, he had gone to study abroad. He had returned to Japan to work for a big company in Osaka, but then he had been transferred to Tokyo, which led him to getting a small apartment there, which eventually led him to you.
You watched him sip his tea and place it back on the table.
Time really goes by quickly. It wasn’t that long ago we were at a similar place talking about the future and look at us. This is the future.
“You know? Back then, I wanted to come back after finishing high school, but it would have been so…” He moved his hands as if trying to grasp the right word.
“Complicated?” you offered. His lips curved.
“Not that it would have been easier anywhere, but I guess there really is a right time for everything, don’t you think? At least I got to see you again."
Ikeda was looking at you expectantly and you only nodded. He laughed. “Sorry, I’m talking too much, aren’t I?”
“No, not at all!” It was nice listening to him. “I was just thinking how great it is that you have accomplished so much.”
“Thank you, but I didn’t mean to get carried away. I just think it’s nice to be back.” He made a pause. “What about you, though? So, you graduated, stayed here and became a busy teacher… Maybe found your soulmate yet?”
You snorted, almost spilling your drink as you shook your head. “My… No.”
Your own reaction had made you laugh, but what had really gone through your mind was a much more disheartening memory: Satoru's forced smile when you told him you liked him.
Ikeda smiled at your reaction. “What about your friends? Are you still close with those guys you used to hang with? The girl that used to come with you every time and the other two?”
“Shoko is a doctor now.” You smiled and looked through the window; it looked like it would rain. “About Geto…”
They did their best to cover it up, but you might have heard about an incident in a village...
Haruki watched your gazed had saddened, and he could infer it was not a pleasant subject, so he tried to facilitate a response “You drifted apart? That happened to me and many of my friends...”
Your eyes returned to his. “Yes… We don’t really talk anymore.”
That sounded better than saying ‘our friendship became complicated after he turned into a mass murderer and curse user.'
Haruki’s smile was apologetic. In his memory, Geto seemed to have been a nice guy, and from your expression, he could tell that, for whatever reason it happened, letting him go had hurt you.
It must be inevitable that people part ways even when they don’t want to, he thought.
Now, he was not sure if he should ask about the other guy. Would that sadden you too?
“I am still friends with Gojo, though. You remember him?”
He nodded. Of course, how could he forget about him?
You continued. “Actually, we work together. He is a teacher too.”
“Oh, well, that’s...” he was not sure how to put it, “...that’s interesting.”
He could not help but wonder what kind of teacher Gojo had become. Thinking it backwards, Gojo had always been throwing annoyed looks at him. No, that white-haired kid had not looked like teacher material at all back then.
Haruki was not dumb. He always knew Gojo disliked him, and that the reason was pretty much related to you, but it had been only once that your friend had confronted him directly. Would Gojo have told you about it? He figured probably not, and even if he had, the past is in the past.
***
“This was fun,” you told Haruki as you walked to the station.
“It really was”, he agreed. “Maybe we could go to where I used to work next time. You know, for good old times’ sake.”
“You should bring your apron!” You grinned and looked at the sky, “But sure, we should go, if it’s still there, that is.”
At the entrance of the station, Haruki told you he could walk to his apartment from there, so you said goodbye.
The day had been full of memories and, although overall it was nice to reminisce, it had left you exhausted, so you decided to go to bed early.
Maybe tonight you could dream of a softer time, before Shoko looked so tired, before Suguru slipped away, and before Satoru had to shoulder alone the burdens of the strongest.
As the raindrops tapped on your window, you slumbered into the memory of a young group of students laughing and running under the rain.
***
“[name].” Someone was tapping your forehead. “[name].”
Your eyes opened to be met with a pair of blue ones.
“Oh, good, you woke up.” Gojo shot you a smile. He was standing next to your bed, bending over you.
Slowly, your head turned to look at the time on your nightstand watch. It was 6:02 am.
Huh, he started being annoying earlier than usual.
Still laying down, you saw him straighten up. “I need your help with something.”
“It better be urgent, or I’ll have to ask you to return that key I gave you.”
You knew that would not be of much use anyway. Before giving him a spare key to your apartment ‘for emergencies’, Satoru would just teleport inside whenever he thought the situation called for it, which was basically whenever he wanted.
Of course, he did not use his key just for emergencies, but at least you had gotten him to use the front door since then. And he had looked so glad you had given him a spare key and even gave you one to his place, that you did not really have the heart to ask him to give it back despite his unnecessary intrusions.
He grinned. “We need to pick Shoko’s birthday present.”
There was going to be a small gathering that day to celebrate your friend’s birthday. She had insisted on not making a fuss about it, but she did say in a half serious tone that presents were mandatory. You had gotten her a bottle of that rare wine she liked a month ago in anticipation of this day, but apparently, Gojo had waited until the very last minute to get her something.
You turned in your bed and closed your eyes again. “That is not an emergency.”
“I just did not know what to get her. She was not thrilled with my choice last year, so I thought…” Gojo sat on your bed and went on rambling about how he had carefully picked Shoko’s present on a trip last year and how rude it had been of her to call it ‘ugly’ in front of him.
“What is this?” Shoko’s face had been unreadable, but judging by the way she was holding it, she was not pleased.
“I got it during my last trip. It is believed to bring good luck to your home, and you can put it in your living room so it…”
“Of course not. This is too ugly to be left where people can see it," Shoko had sentenced.
You sighed. “Fine. I will help you, but I need some more sleep first.”
“It’s a deal then. We will take a quick nap and then go. What do you think we should get her?” Despite being with your back to him, you could feel him laying down and accommodating closer to you.
It had been a while since you two had shared a bed. Yours was particularly small, so one of you would always take the futon or the sofa if he wanted to 'stay for a nap'.
“What are you doing?” you asked softly.
There was silence for a second and you thought he had caught up with the situation he was putting both of you in, but then he replied “Your bed is more comfortable. Besides, it’ll be just a minute, right?"
You were going to protest, but he continued. “I had a rough night.” His tone was lower now. “Indulge me this time, can you?”
You knew he had been on a mission last night, however, no matter how gruesome, it was not like him to complain about it, let alone seek comfort in others, at least, it had not been like that in a long time.
Would it be okay to comfort him as when we were kids?
You turned to face him. He was laying on his side already looking at you.
When you put your hand over his, Satoru was reminded of how you used to hold hands when things were rather unpleasant at his family’s state. It was a gesture of reassurance; you holding his hand was proof that he was not alone. He had never told you but there were times when he thought your hand had tied him to reality, it had kept him human, and he had loved you for it.
“I…”
“Sleep then. You probably need it,” you interrupted him and closed your eyes.
Would it be okay for him to tell you he loved you or would it make things awkward again? Would it still make you hurt because he had not reciprocated your feelings weeks ago?
In truth, he had not come so early because of Ieiri's present. He had done it because the curse he had encountered last night had gotten to him.
He had been told that thing was not really strong, but it could show people illusions of those dear to them dying in front of their eyes; it was the fear the victim would experience at that time what would make the curse stronger. Gojo had not expected to see you, but he did; and although he had snapped out of it almost immediately, it had been enough to make him rush to you as soon as he had finished the mission and changed clothes.
But now, with his hand in yours, Satoru closed his eyes, feeling a little more at ease.
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Note: Huh... I thought this one would be shorter. Sorry.
Thank you for reading!
Next: Part VII
@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha
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python333 · 7 months
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HAI! i rlly like your platonic 141 fics and I'm wondering if we could get some more dad price and/or brother gaz sleepy cuddles? :3
stretched too thin — python333
— — — —
synopsis gaz notices you overworking yourself one night and decides to step in before you end up pulling an all-nighter.
relationships platonic!gaz & gn!reader.
characters gaz.
word count 2.05k
warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of pet names [love, darling], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].
note oh my god im so sorry i disappeared for like. a month. ill try my best to not be gone for more than a week at a time, but with all of my schoolwork and just over all stress ive been experiencing lately, i dont know if ill be able to get fics out every week :< ill try my best though! please accept this fic as an apology—its another big bro gaz one!! special shoutout to everyone else who has an older sibling thats very distant with them, you and me are in the same boat fr!! also, last thing—im thinking about making a discord server where i announce when fics are being written and published and stuff, but i dunno if yall would join or anything, so if u would pls lmk!!
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You haven’t left your office in five hours. 
Recently—just about two days ago—you finished up an assignment fairly quickly and, as a result, had to write a detailed report of said assignment. It went over the mission you’d gone on, and listed off every major detail you could think of, though because you just can’t give yourself a break you were constantly thinking of other details you might’ve missed even though there was little chance you’d missed anything.
The mission wasn’t anything too important, honestly. It was originally going to be a week-long camp-out reconnaissance by an enemy task force’s base, obtaining information on their schedule and what they did throughout the day and whatnot. However, only a day into the mission, the small squad of soldiers that had accompanied you saw another small military group observing the same group you’d been observing.
So, naturally, you observed them as well. Aren’t you just the best multi-tasker?
The task force eventually found out about the other group, just a day later, while your squad was still in the clear to continue your observations. So, your mission had quickly come to a close—but, because of the circumstances under which the mission had come to a close, you were required to write an extremely detailed report on the other group and the group you’d been observing.
It would be an understatement to say you were tired. You’re exhausted.
Between the non-stop writing, the coffee sitting on your desk that’s been microwaved five times and has been refilled thrice, and the uncomfortable chair you’ve sat in that you have yet to replace, you’re extremely exhausted. Your movements are sluggish, your fingers aren’t as swift on the keyboard of your computer as they usually are, and worst of all—you still have more to write. 
Your eyes stung and felt dry, your hands felt like they were going to stop working completely at any moment, and you were overall just exhausted. 
You look over at the clock on your desk, and it reads 02:28 AM, indicating that you would only have about four hours to sleep if you went to bed now. I’m too far into this report to stop now, You tell yourself, sighing as you blink slowly at your computer screen, If only my vision didn’t keep getting blurry… 
Suddenly, you hear a knock at the door. Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion, and for a second you think you’re hallucinating until the knock sounds once more. 
Reluctantly, with a voice raspy from not using it almost all day, you call out, “Come in!” 
Your voice is softer and quieter than you’d like it to be, but it doesn’t matter too much to you at this moment—at least, not in your foggy mind that still begs you for sleep, even when you have far more of your report to finish. 
The door opens with a creak, and in walks Gaz. 
“Sarg,” He greets you, not bothering to close the door behind him as he walks up to your desk, “Pleasure to see you for the first time in, what… three days?” 
“Two days and eighteen hours,” You correct him, taking a moment to crack your stiff knuckles, not taking your eyes off of your monitor, “And you know you don’t have to call me ‘sarg’ or ‘sergeant’ or anything. We’re the same rank.” 
Gaz promptly ignores you, “Right, well, anything over a day is way too long for me to go without seeing you. Why’re you all cooped up in here on your computer?”
“‘Cause I need to write a report on my assignment,” You briefly explain, before lightly goading Gaz, “Not all of us need a shit ton of attention every day like you do.” 
“Ehh,” Gaz theatrically makes a thinking face, before shrugging, “Not sure what you mean by ‘us’, but alright.” 
“By ‘us’, I mean everyone but you.” 
“Surely that doesn’t include you, right?” 
“It does.” 
Gaz gasps quietly at your reply, before dramatically responding, “Oh, you can’t be serious.”
“I absolutely can,” You hum, finally taking your eyes off of your computer screen to look up at Gaz, “Is it so hard for you to believe that I don’t need to talk to you every waking hour?” 
“It is, actually,” Gaz scoffs, “Because I know that you do need to talk to me every waking hour.” 
“Uh, no I don’t,” You childishly argue, raising an eyebrow at Gaz.
“Uh, yes you do,” Gaz immaturely argues back, crossing his arms, “Look me in the eyes and tell me that the past two days and eighteen hours haven’t been shit because I haven’t given you any attention.”
You open your mouth to form a response but quickly close it, realizing that yeah, actually, I kind of do crave his attention. 
Fuck.
“You’re not the only person that gives me attention,” You point out, hoping to find some way to change the subject.
“Sure, but you like the attention I give you the most,” Gaz hums, leaning forward to rest his crossed arms on your desk opposite of where you sit.
“You don’t know that.”
“Then tell me that I’m wrong,” Gaz challenges you.
You narrow your eyes at him, glaring at him for a moment before sighing, “You suck.”
“Maybe I suck, but you look like you haven’t slept for the past week,” Gaz points out, “You look exhausted, by the way. And dehydrated. Actually, you just look like the human embodiment of a headache.” 
“What the fuck?” 
“I mean that in the most loving, non-offensive way possible.”
“You come into my office, accuse me of needing attention from you, then you insult me by calling me the human version of a headache?”
“It wasn’t an insult!” Gaz raises his hands in surrender, before sighing, “I’m being serious. You look dead, [c/n]. You need sleep.” 
“What I need is to finish this report,” You huff out, beginning to turn your attention back to your computer, before Gaz’s hand is quickly placed on your chin and forces you to look back at him. 
“No, what you need is some rest,” Gaz argues, more serious this time, taking his hand off of your chin—something you shouldn’t miss nearly as much as you do, the warmth of his hand fading far too quickly from your face—and bringing it back to rest on the desk. 
“Maybe you need rest, Gaz.”
“Sure I do,” He shrugs, “But I’m only going to sleep if you do.” 
You raise an eyebrow at him, “Really? You’re pulling that card?”
“I am.” 
You stare at him for a moment, mentally weighing your options, before sighing and bringing your elbows up to the table so that you can place your forehead in your hands.
On one hand, if you stay in your office you can finish up your report before four and then go to sleep, and hope that you magically feel active even with just an hour or two of sleep in the morning. On the other hand, if you go to sleep now, so does Gaz, and then you both get more than just two hours of sleep. 
After another moment of consideration, you huff out a frustrated breath and mutter, “Fine.” 
Gaz smiles down at you and walks around your desk to your side of it, holding out a hand for you to grab to help yourself up from your chair and using his free hand to save your report and power off your monitor. 
You take his hand and stand up, your legs a little weak and balance iffy from sitting down for so long, but within the next few minutes you’re sure you’ll be able to properly walk. You let go of his hand once you’re positive you won’t fall over, and once he sees that you’re able to walk, Gaz silently walks towards the door of your office. Just as quietly, you follow him. 
He turns off the lights for you and lets you walk out of the office first, locking the door from the inside and closing it once you’re out. Once he’s done, he takes the lead again and you follow him down to his sleeping quarters. It’s not too long of a walk there, only two minutes at most.
Once you’re there, Gaz opens the door and lets you walk in first. Once you’re inside and Gaz has closed the door, you shrug off your camouflage patterned jacket and toe off your already loosened tan boots, leaving you in just your camouflage cargo pants and army green undershirt.
You look down at your pants with a frown, knowing from experience that sleeping in them was incredibly uncomfortable and left you regretting your whole existence the morning after, but before you could even look over at Gaz to tell him of your situation, you felt something being thrown at you. 
You immediately turn your attention to the item that had been hurled at you—the item in question being a pair of gray sweatpants, some that would probably be a little bit looser than you’d prefer on your figure—and then look over at Gaz with a questioning look. 
“Figured you wouldn’t wanna sleep in that,” Gaz shrugs, nodding to your cargo pants in response to your nonverbal confusion. 
You hum in appreciation, not wanting to talk too much at the moment, instead waiting for Gaz to look away before slipping off your pants and replacing them with the sweatpants Gaz had thrown at you. The fit isn’t as uncomfortable as you thought they’d be—they’re loose and hang low on your hips, just like you thought they would, of course, but they don’t feel nearly as weird as you thought they would.
Once you’ve tightened the strings on the waist of the pants, you get into Gaz’s bed, pulling the covers up and over yourself. Gaz quickly settles into the bed next to you, quickly getting himself comfortable under the sheets, and pulling the covers up and over his shoulders in one swift movement.
He gets closer to you, so close that his chest presses against your back and you can feel the tip of his nose ghosting over the top of your head. He wraps one arm over your body to pull you impossibly closer to him, and his other arm snakes underneath the side of your body so that both of his arms are wrapped around you.
He hums contently and his thumb rubs small circles into your clothed stomach, the action—despite being small—causing your stomach to warm up almost immediately. 
“Comfortable, darling?” Gaz asks quietly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. 
“Very,” You mumble back, trying to subtly lean your head back against Gaz in hopes of getting at least one more kiss. Noticing your efforts, he huffs out a small laugh and presses another gentle kiss right at the edge of your hairline before pressing one last one to your forehead. 
Even with the comforting atmosphere, you can’t find it within yourself to fully relax, your body still tense and stiff underneath the blanket. Gaz, just like he did with your “subtle” movements, notices and frowns. 
“Just sleep,” Gaz tiredly mumbles into the top of your head, “You have to get up in three hours. The sooner you sleep, the more sleep you get.” 
You don’t respond, instead simply sighing and forcing your eyes closed. You do have to admit, it’s nice being able to actually close your eyes for something other than blinking, and closing your eyes for longer than half a second has made you realize that they were even drier than you thought they were. 
Exhausted and ready to finally sleep, you eventually get to a point where you no longer need to force your eyes shut, and as a result, your whole body relaxes for the first time in almost six hours. 
“G’night, love,” Gaz murmurs, feeling your body relax next to his. You hum in acknowledgment of his words, not finding the energy within yourself to properly respond, instead finding yourself drifting off into a deep sleep. 
And if four hours later, Gaz wakes up and simply lies there, not waking you and instead letting you get some more sleep despite you having to be up soon, nobody has to know.
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celestialprincesse · 3 months
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YES!! YEY!!
so yk how like nerd!readers usually have collections? yes, collections. i have obsessions over a lot of things. im a "nerd" for dinos, coffee, dark romance books, cats, bla bla. yes. im a handful. hah.
then how they usually dont sleep. how I usually dont sleep lmao. then he comes home to reader studying or completing work, thesis, reports you name it. or maybe back to reader just waiting for him with those almost dead,baggy eyes. like "oh hey, fuck im sleepy". oh my ive been there. had my friend coming over and she saw me flopped on the floor, papers everywhere, highlighter in mouth while my empty coffee mug had crunched papers haha. also, 3 days of thesis(s)
then reader binges a lot. on books, series, documentaries, anything that keeps them away from being loneliness. i love crime and history oh hell yes. usually watch them war docus haha. then the crime ones are addicting. or for fun, id watch cooking shows, thanks to that habit, im a pro chef (lol) im an ambivert, thus, yes i can socialise. i had my housemate come with me shopping. she's a pilot so she's rarely home. she followed me to the mall, nearby cafe's, some local shops and i was saying high to all the shopkeepers. she was like, "you know everyone?" "yep, get pretty lonely :D" yea..i could imagine Simon just watching in confusion haha. i have..adopted 2 cats to keep me entertained...sorry Simon :D
hehe, i have more but this is all for now love! <333 i wanna know how it is on your side :DD
Honestly, it's pretty much the same for me. I'm big on collecting things too, mostly books and jewellery and the occasional kitschy antique I stumble upon at my local thrift. I also sleep a lot (but always at weird times) because my brain keeps me up at night whirring about the most random nonsensical things.
I like to think that Simon sort of takes charge of he and nerdy!readers relationship when they're working on a big research project because they just entirely forget how to function. I'm talking hoisting them over his shoulder to get to bed, plugging in their laptop so it's fully charged in the morning. He asks them questions about their interests just so that he gets the opportunity to shove a granola bar or some berries into their open mouth, otherwise they'll get so focussed they forget to eat. He'll drag them to the gym or on a walk with him just so that they can get some fresh air and exercise, because sitting at a desk for all hours of the day for weeks isn't healthy, despite how much they try and convince him it is.
Honestly? I also think that Simon would be super pro his partner getting a pet. He's down to do basically anything that will give them a break from freaking out over their studies, and he'd really like them to have some company when he's away on deployment, so at least if they don't leave the house, they won't be entirely alone.
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cowboydisaster · 1 year
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The Fire In Your Eyes
part VIII: horseshoe overlook iv
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pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader
word count: 15.2k
summary: it's time for the train job, the biggest job you've ever done. You've got a bad feeling about it, and by the end you wish you would have listened to your gut.
a/n: Surprise! Early post! Thank you for your patience with this chapter! Yall know I always upload on Wednesday, but i was so sick that i couldn't write, and i had to go to the ER on tuesday night to get fluids. Anyway, this has been the scariest chapter to write ever. Don't kill me please and please don't give up on this series... love yall, don't yell at me and please trust me. This chapter was too long and got split into two parts: part two will be posted in three days time.
beta read by @margowritesthings
warnings: violence, death, minors dni, 18+
series extras
SERIES MASTERPOST
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Arthur leaves long before you even wake up, heading back down to Blackwater to find Sean. It gives you a sick feeling in your stomach, but you trust he’ll be okay. Arthur is smart, and even though he's good at getting himself in sticky situations, he's equally good at getting out of them. It doesn't do much to help your worry, but it’s all you can cling to for right now.
You swirl your half empty cup of coffee in your hand, leaning down for the percolator to reheat it. The fire is warm, alongside the sun, and you find yourself grateful for the off the shoulder shirt you’d picked up a few days ago. It's the perfect temperature you think, tasting the bitter coffee. You're startled out of your thoughts by a weary presence.
“Penny for your thoughts, ma’am?” Kieran asks, walking passed to sit down opposite of you on a crate. He looks nervous, like he was afraid to come sit, and you feel sorry for it. Kieran seems like a nice man, just someone who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Just thinkin’ about all that's goin’ on… I see they let you live, huh?” You chuckle, and Kieran nods, nervously. 
“Well Mr. Morgan convinced Dutch to let me stay, I thought maybe that was your doin.” Kieran says, and your eyebrow pings up in shock. 
“Did he now?” You hum, surprised by Arthur’s choice, “No, That was all Mr. Morgan. Well good for you, I just hope he won’t regret it.”
“Oh he won’t! I'm real good with horses, miss, worked in a stable most my life. I’m sure I can be of help with anything you folks need, especially in that regard. I can do anything, even latrines. I’ll earn my keep, miss, I will.” Kieran stutters and you nod, eyeing him over. 
“But speakin’ of horses… that palomino over there, the blue eyed one, is she yours?” Kieran asks, nodding towards Athena, who has her neck to the ground, tearing through the bale of hay there. You smile, watching as she pins her ears at Old Boy, keeping the hay for herself. 
“Yeah, she’s mine. Just got her since we’ve been here.” You smile, and Kieran takes note of her configuration. 
“She looks like a thoroughbred. Nice and tall, lean and muscular.” Kieran points out, and you hum at his accuracy. 
“She is.” You respond, eyeing whether or not Kieran has a motive or if he's just a lover of all things equine. You sip at your bitter coffee, letting him speak for himself.
“Y’know palomino thoroughbreds are of the rare sort, n’ with those blues? Well you got a real fine animal, miss.” Kieran says, doting over your mare. You smile, making a note to mention Kieran’s knowledge of horses to Arthur. Maybe that could be his designated contribution. At least he’d be doing something he enjoys instead of getting harassed and threatened by the gang all day. 
“Thank you.” You hum, drinking the rest of your coffee. 
"Well I reckon I better take my coffee and head back to shuckin' corn till they give me a better job. But it was real nice talkin' to you, miss. You're the first person who's treated me like a person rather than an animal since I've been here." Kieran smiles, filling up his cup with the percolator before nodding to you and heading back to Pearson's wagon. You frown, feeling sorry for him. You were lucky enough to have been found by Arthur, but it could have gone any other way. O'Driscolls could have found you first, and you could be in Kieran's shoes right now. 
Sighing, and taking your cup of coffee, you stand up and walk past Strauss's tent, ignoring his greeting. There's a little log sitting near the edge of the cliff behind his tent, and it's a perfect little spot to sit and think. Not wanting to be bothered, your eyes stay pinned on the log as you make your way towards it. The view is breathtaking, you can see everything from the Dakota River to the tops of the Grizzlies from the spot as you sit down, drinking in the warm air. It's a secluded little area, far enough from camp to get away from the arguments and bickering, but close enough for safety. You're enjoying your solitude, watching two bucks fight down below the cliff, they're antlers are stuck together as they rip and rug. It's an interesting sight, until it's interrupted by a throat clearing behind you. 
"John." You sigh, annoyed not with his presence but the fact that you know why he's here. 
"Nice to see you too." John chuckles, bringing his leg over the log to sit next to you with a cigarette between his lips.
“Gotta get some supplies for this train job, I could use an extra hand that ain't a dumbass.” John asks, leaning backwards to stretch. You sigh, not wanting to even think about the damn train job. But nonetheless, you nod. 
“Sure. What exactly is your plan for goin’ about it?” You ask, scooching towards John as he pinches the cigarette between his fingers, shaking it before tossing it on the ground. He pulls a map from his pocket, unfolds the heavily used paper, and holds it out for you to see. 
“Trains' comin’ from Riggs Station. It’s dropping off its security detail in The Heartlands, and after dark it’s heading down to Rhodes to pick up the next regiment.” He explains, tracing his finger over the paper from Riggs Station to Rhodes. 
“So it’ll be completely unguarded for this whole stretch of tracks?” You ask. It sounds too good to be true, but you know that John and Arthur have done this enough by now. They know how to get proper information. But the idea of the train job still makes your stomach flip with anxiety as you’ve never robbed anything as big as a train. 
“Well, not exactly. The security that they’re payin the big bucks for won’t be there, but we expect a few armed passengers, and some local boys guardin’ the train for extra cash. It won't be completely unguarded, but it sure as hell won’t be a militia like you’d expect.” 
You nod, taking the map from his hands gently, and looking it over. 
“Where do we board, n’ how are we boardin’ it?” You ask, and John places his index finger over a little area labeled Dewberry Creek, just past the Lemoyne/New Hanover stateline. 
“Here. We’ll have to stop the train, or it’ll take us right into town. I figure we get an oil wagon, ease it over the tracks. When that train comes through and sees that oil? It’ll stop just fine. We board her, encourage those rich bastards to give up their grammy’s pearls and we ride out.” John explains, tucking the map back into his pocket.
“Alright… seems like a solid plan.” You admit, ignoring your gut, “Where do we get a full oil wagon?” You ask, dusting some dirt off of your new jeans. 
“That’s where you come in. Only place I reckon we find one is the oil fields, out in The Heartlands, you know of it?”
You shake your head no, “Uh-uh.”
“Well it's well guarded for the most part, but most of those guys sleep or drink on the job. And they don’t get paid enough to give a damn. I’m heading over now to scout the place out, get an idea of the schedule. Thought maybe you could tag along, put that head to use instead of washin’ clothes for old Susan.”
You raise an eyebrow, unsure if he's just complimented you or insulted you, but still, you nod. 
“Alright. Let me pack some stuff, I’ll meet you by the horses.” 
John nods as you walk back towards your tent. With a sigh, you pull the canvas open. Your saddle bag is sitting on your bed, and you stuff it with some provisions and a change of clothes, then decide that you’ll need to grab some more ammo from Arthur's tent just in case. Once everything is all packed and settled, you swing your saddlebag over your shoulder and head back out. You stop around the back of Arthur’s wagon, picking up a few cases of express bullets and some throwing knives from the makeshift armory. 
“What does she want from him now? I never liked hearin' about her…” Marybeth hisses, and you look up, startled, realizing she is standing in Arthur’s tent. You’re peeking around the back of the wagon, eavesdropping as Marybeth places a crisp white envelope on Arthur’s bedside table.
“I always thought Mary was nice…” Tilly responds, picking up the envelope and looking it over before returning it. 
“Nice like a patch of poison ivy.” Marybeth bites, and Tilly rolls her eyes. 
“You didn’t even know her. Not when she was really around, anyway. She was always kind, just… didn’t agree with our life. Can you blame her?” Tilly sighs, and they walk out of the tent together. 
Your eyebrows pull together, and you walk around the outside of his tent until you're at the entrance. You hum, looking at the envelope before striding through his tent towards it. It’s upside down on his table, and you know you shouldn’t be snooping through his mail, but you pick it up and flip it over regardless. Written in sloppy cursive is ‘Arthur’ and you look after the lettering for a while. The paper is fancy, the kind that is expensive and only available in the city. Your finger trails over the lettering, and it itches to tear the red seal off and read the contents, but you restrain yourself. You know if the roles were reversed Arthur would respect your privacy. Sighing, you place the envelope back and meet John by the horses, wondering who Mary might be the whole way over. John is just climbing into the saddle when you approach. 
“Ready to go?” He asks, settling himself down over Old Boy and checking the straps on his saddlebag.
“Sure.” You mumble, mounting up onto Athena and giving her a nice pat. Once you’re settled, the two of you start cantering out of the trails, nodding to Karen who is keeping watch. Instead of riding towards Valentine, John leads you out towards the Heartlands, into unfamiliar territory for you. You can’t help but think about those men, Milton and Ross, and wonder why in the hell you’re all robbing a train right now.
“Why does Dutch keep pushin’ this job?” You holler up, squeezing Athena to run faster after John.  
“I got no idea.” He yells back to you. Once you run over the tracks the terrain changes from grass to dry, sandy dirt, and you try to keep Athena on the trail to avoid getting any rocks lodged in her shoes. 
“It don’t make sense, we should be leavin. Now I don't want to, not at all, but there was Pinkertons right next to our camp, just a stone's throw away.” You shake your head, unbelieving of Dutch’s terrible call. 
“Do you think they know where we are?” John asks, turning in his saddle a bit as he gallops on. 
“No. No if they knew where we are they would have just came to camp… But still, approachin’ us like that when we had Jack with us? Tellin’ us, in front of him, what happened to Mac? They can all go to hell.” You hiss, and John goes quiet for a minute. All you can hear is hooves pounding as you wait for his response. 
“You and Arthur had Jack?” John asks, like he's angry, but mostly surprised. Your eyebrows draw together, unsure of why it’s a big deal.
“Well, yeah. Abigail asked us to watch him for a bit, just to cheer him up.” You respond as he leads you up the bank towards Citadel Rock. John huffs loudly, rolling his eyes and shaking his head as if he disapproves.
“You got a problem with that?” You bite, noticing the tension in his shoulders, and his quiet, aggressive demeanor.
“She acts like I ain’t there… for her or the boy.” John hisses, shaking his head. It grows quiet again as you think back to Abigail’s pleading tears, begging you to take Jack because John wouldn't.
“Are you?” You ask, with some judgment. John really thinks about your question, slowing Old Boy to a trot as he comes up near the slope of Citadel Rock. He left them, but he came back, that counts for something in his eyes. Surely, it counts in Abigail’s eyes too…. 
“Well yeah!” John says defensively, “Im tryin’... tryin’ to get money for them at least, so she can raise the boy up proper.” John says, stopping his stallion at the edge of the cliff, overlooking The Heartlands. You pull Athena up alongside him, stopping so you can look him in the eyes. 
“Money don’t matter if you ain’t there for ‘em.” You whisper, no harshness or judgment in your eyes, although he takes it with such, pulling back and scrunching up his face in anger. 
“The hells that supposed to mean?” He bites, dropping his reins and throwing an arm in the air towards you. You keep your calm demeanor, only wanting to help the little family. You have no quarrels against John or his parenting, but you’re the one in camp watching Abigail comfort a crying Jack when his daddy isn't there to tuck him in night after night.
“It’s just…” You think over your words, tongue darting out over your lips, “Your boys' real upset, he misses ya John. Abigail won't admit it but she misses you too.” Your wrist rests on the horn of your saddle, toying with the leather reins as you watch John’s face soften. He sighs, eyes downcast as he runs his hand over his face, careful not to catch the healing stitches on his right side.
“You think?” He asks, looking up to you, and you nod your head up and down, sure.
“I don't know what I’m doin’ Star.” John sighs, doubting himself. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be there for Jack and Abigail, he doesn't know how to. He doesn't see himself cut out to be a father or a husband, and he has a hard time believing his family wants him around. 
“None of us do,” You huff a laugh, thinking of your own situation with Arthur, “You just gotta try your best to do right by them.” 
John nods, offering you a small, sad smile as he leans over to tap your knee in thanks. Without another word, but with a mutual understanding, you both dismount your horses. Then it’s time to get down to work. John takes both the horses, and he hitches them down the bank a ways so they can’t be seen from the roads or the fields. As he takes them away, you pull out your binoculars. Crouching, you look through the glass and take in the infamous Heartland Oil Fields. There is one big building, the factory, on the left side of the tracks that run straight through the place. On the right are smaller buildings, you’re presuming bunks, outhouses and storage rooms. The entire place is fenced in, except for where the tracks run through and the main entrance, guarded by two armed men. You search for an oil wagon, and find a few but you’re not sure which are empty or full. Armed guards stand all around the place, and there is a damn moat of oil ponds on the right perimeter. You pull the binoculars down, hearing John return as he walks up beside you. He too is eyeing the factory, face drawn up as he thinks over a plan. 
“How do you reckon we go about this?” You ask, handing him over the binoculars. He takes them, and does the same look around that you’ve just had. 
“We stay here and figure out their routine. They have a checkpoint at the front gate, so if we watch them long enough we’ll know which wagons are full and when. Then we slip in at night, once the workers have gone home. We’ll only have to get past the guards.” John explains and you sigh, nodding. You look up at the sun, holding your fingers up to the horizon. It’s nearly 4PM, you’re gonna be here for a while.
“Why don’t you make us a fire or somethin? And grab my bedroll too. This is uncomfortable as hell.” You ask of him as you plop down on the dirt, taking the first watch. 
— — — — 
“Star?” John mumbles, and you groan, eyelashes fluttering. You curl your knees in tighter until John shakes your shoulder.
“Star, get up. It’s time to go.” John says, and those four words alone pull you from your slumber, it's time to go.
In the past six hours you and John had traded shifts a handful of times, and both picked up the same pattern. A wagon is filled every hour on the hour, and then left for only ten minutes while the guards do their rounds. Once the ten minutes are up, the wagon is taken out the front gate by a heavily armed detail, and sent off. You had suggested earlier that it might be easier to steal the wagon after it leaves the oil fields, but John had said the risk of the oil wagon getting shot would be too high. So you stick with the original plan, leaving you only ten minutes to sneak into the place and sneak out with the wagon. It’ll be hard, but it’s your only option. 
“They just started their rounds, hurry up.” John explains as you scramble to your feet. You notice he has the camp taken down already, and the fire is nothing but smoking ashes as you quickly roll up your bedroll. Quietly whistling for Athena, you wait for her to arrive before strapping down your bedroll and jumping onto her back. The ten minute countdown has already begun as you and John gallop down the hill. 
“Which way do we go in?” You ask, running after John towards the right flank of the fenced oil fields. 
“We're gonna come up on the right side, ditch the horses a ways out, and jump the fence. Wagon should be sitting right there. Then we just drive it right out the front gate.” John hollers back, slowing Old Boy down once you can see the fence. Coyotes yip and howl in The Heartlands, making the night even more eerie as you approach the factory. With the dark and the distance, none of the guards can see your horses as you both dismount and break for the fence. You shoo both horses, signaling them to flee. And then you're running, keeping your breaths controlled and steady as you watch out for any straggling guards. John reaches the fence before you do. It’s not very high and he easily jumps over it. 
“C’mon!” John whispers as you throw yourself over the fence, landing painfully on your ankle with a wince. He grabs your elbow, pulling you along with him. Once you're inside, you take a look around to get your bearings. You see a few swinging lanterns in the distance, all guards on watch, but none of them look in your direction. Most of the lanterns near the bunk houses have been snuffed out for the night, leaving you to the shadows. You turn in the other direction and see exactly what you're looking for.
“Right there!” You whisper, pointing ahead to the wagon. It’s pulled in front of one of the tents, and John helps you run towards it. Two white shire horses are hooked up to the wagon, and you’re glad to see that they’re strong and agile. 
“Go on, get up there. I’ll drive.” John says, hushed as he breaks away from you to get on the left side of the wagon. You’re not sure how much time you have, but surely it’s not much. Your heart pumps loudly in your ears as you climb up the side of the wagon, ignoring the slight pain in your ankle. John clambers up, and just as he reaches the bench seat you hear a low, deep growl. You snap your head around to catch the source and the blood runs from your face at the sight of a massive bloodhound. A guard dog. His jaw snaps as he snarls at you with a warning. 
“John…?” You whisper, so quietly that he barely hears. He turns and sees the dog, and his eyes flicker from it to the guards walking on the other side of the factory. The dog's hackles are raised as it snarls, showing its teeth. You know that if it barks, or alerts the guards in any way, you’ll both be caught. John shushes it and slowly starts to roll the wagon away, quietly cueing the horses onward. The dog snarls again, snapping its jaws as you quietly ride the wagon away. 
“What do we do? What if it alerts someone?” You whisper, heart racing. If the dog alerts a single guard, you’ll have every person in the facility shooting at you. 
“I don’t know, drive like hell, I guess.” John offers as you watch the dog. John has the horses going at a nice trot towards the entrance, and sweat runs down your brow as the dog runs after the wagon. You’re just about to breach the front gate when it happens- when the bloodhound does what bloodhounds do. It bays, and it bays loud. 
"What is it boy? What ya find?" Someone hollers, and a lantern flicks on in one of the tents. John flicks the reins over the horse's backs harshly and they pick up a canter towards the front gate. 
“Shit!" You hiss as the dog continues, head tossed up in the air as guards start to come out and find the disturbance. One man comes out from a tent, still in pajamas with a rifle in hand. Your eyes widen as he stares directly at you. 
“Right there! They’re takin’ a wagon!” The barely clothed man yells, and John curses as he smacks the horses with the reins again, and they take off. More guards and workers seem to come out and see you all escaping, and everyone readies their rifles. John steers the horses out the main gate just as bullets start to whiz past your head. 
“Stop them!” Another guard calls out, “Get the damn law!” 
Bullets ping against the wooden wheels of the wagon, and buzz through the air past your head. You lean your head down to protect yourself as you grab your carbine from around your shoulder, good thing you grabbed those bullets. 
“Shoot somethin’!” John yells, maneuvering the horses along the roads in the direction of Dewberry Creek. 
“Im tryin!” You yell back, loading your carbine before popping up and taking down two guards who were shooting from behind the fence. A few bullets ping against the side of the wagon, and you gasp, realizing how quickly it could go up in flames. You pop up from the bench again, and fire into the chests of three men who were running after the wagon.
“Watch the damn oil, you morons!” One of the guards yells to his men. You shoot down three more men before you have to reload again. John is getting you further from the oil fields, and the flashing of gunfire gets farther away until two riders come out after the wagon. You’re still filling up the magazine when they ride up on you, and John ducks, yelling something. A few more bullets whiz passed before you stand up and shoot both men down from their horses. You pant, ducking as three more riders gallop after you both. John has the horses running at a dizzying pace as you stand, taking down two men. You're extra careful not to shoot or hurt the rider's horses as you come up and shoot the last man. 
“Is that the last of them?” John yells as you pant, wiping sweat from your brow and slumping back into your seat. 
“Yeah, that's all.” You breathe heavily, tossing your carbine strap back over your shoulder. You whistle, and turn around to watch for Athena. John does the same, and luckily after a few minutes, both come running behind the wagon. 
“Where we takin’ this again? I know you said the creek, but specifically?” You ask, taking your hat off and setting it in your lap to untie your braid. You pull the cloth tie out, running your fingers through the waves that are now down your back. 
“We’re droppin’ it near this torn down house. I’ll leave the horses go and we'll come back for it when the train comes through.” John explains, and you nod. 
It’s a bit of a ride, especially with the pace you go at. The horses are exhausted and scared from the shootout, so John doesn’t push them past a trot. It's nice to just relax in the passenger seat, and you focus on the humming of bugs and frogs while your heartbeat settles. It's a cloudy night, the kind where a cold fog settles over the place, but you don't mind. It's still beautiful. The moon pokes through the fog in a hazy glow, offering some light for John to lead you to Dewberry Creek. He winds the wagons down the open hills until you reach a small trail along a big dried up creek bed. 
"Guess the creek ain't fairin' so well." You point out, watching as coyotes yip and run through the dried up creek. 
"Guess not." John offers, pulling the wagons toward a structure. It looks like a little house that burned down. The foundation is intact, along with the fireplace and support beams, but the rest has burned away. 
"We pull them off right here." John says, turning the horses to walk in between the house and a patch of trees. He starts to slow them down, and you hop from the wagon before it stops. Immediately you jog around the backside to check the cargo. 
"Shit, John! Shit!" You hiss, taking in the oil wagon that is riddled with random bullet holes. There's about five or six, and no more oil leaks from them. You knock on the side of the wagon as John jumps down, groaning when the wagon sounds hollow. 
"All the oils' gone." You sigh, rubbing your face as John paces around the backside of the wagon. Athena grows antsy from the upset, and she stomps and rears lightly. 
"Now what the hell do we do?" You ask angrily, calling Athena over to comfort her. You hand her an oatcake to munch on and stroke her neck as John comes up with a plan. Athena's gentle nickers calm you down, and you take a deep breath as she leans into your hand. John is standing back from the wagon, hands on his hips as he thinks it over.
"It'll work just the same. The conductor won't know if it's full or not." John says, biting his cheek and you sigh. 
"We can't just go get another one." John huffs, "That oil factory is on high alert now." 
"You're sure it'll work?" You ask, stepping towards him with raised eyebrows.
"It'll work." He reassures you. You nod, sighing and waking towards the front of the wagon where the two white shire horses are hooked up. John does the same on the other side, and you both slice the leather harness straps, freeing the horses. 
"When's it comin' through?" You ask, patting the shire horse to run off. 
"Tomorrow night." John says, and your stomach aches at the thought. Only twenty four hours until your first train job. 
Athena and Old Boy are grazing next to each other just a short walk away from the wagon, and you and John silently walk towards them, sheathing your knives and watching as the pair of white shire horses run up over the hill, bucking and whinnying.
"You ever rob a train before?" John asks, looking over at your anxious expression. You shake your head, coming up to Athena. 
"No, afraid not. Just drunken idiots usually." You chuckle, and John smiles. 
"Y'know I'm glad it was Arthur's watch you stole, and not mine back in Tumbleweed. I probably never would have noticed, and you'd still be runnin' all over hell in the west." John chuckles, and you smile at the memory, mounting onto Athena. 
"Still can't believe he brought ya back like he did, but I'm glad for it." John says, climbing onto his stallion. Your eyebrows pull together lightly at his remark.
"Why's that?" You ask, cueing Athena into a canter with John behind you.
"Arthur, he ain't never brought someone back to camp before you, and he throws a big fuss when someone new comes in. He gets all pissed and leaves for a few days. He says it's 'easier to lie low with less people.' Musta seen somethin' in you, though." John hollers up to you, and your features soften. You wonder why Arthur chose differently for you, why he brought you back to camp. 
"He's different with you." John says, galloping alongside you, and you have to push Athena further ahead to hide the blush on your cheeks. You want to quip something back, but you come up short because you know he's right. You've heard the same testament from each of the girls, Hosea, and Arthur himself. 
It grows quiet as you gallop through The Heartlands, avoiding the roads and any lingering lawmen. It's late, near midnight when you finally get close to camp. You can hear the cheers and laughter from the road, and you smile back at John.
"Guess they found him." You chuckle, trotting Athena under the fallen tree into camp. When you breach the trees, coming into the little opening, the sight has you laughing. Camp is lighter than it's been in a while. Sean is standing on a crate giving some grand speech with everyone gathered around, and by the sound of it he's already drunk. You hitch Athena, and John nudges your elbow. 
"Reckon I'm gonna go be with my family. Thanks for your help." John pats your back before walking off towards the camp. You smile, taking off the straps of Athena's saddle and placing it over the hitching post before walking towards the crowd.
"Get a load of this bastard." Arthur huffs, walking up beside you with two whiskeys in hand, gesturing to Sean. He hands you a drink, and you smile, glad to be home. 
"Found him strung up in a damn tree surrounded by bounty hunters." 
"A-and I owe my life to old English over 'tere!" Sean points to Arthur, "Yep, 'tats right! Old grumpy Arthur Morgan! Come to save me, ya did! You're my brother, ya arsehole!" Sean laughs heartily, jumping down from the crate and approaching the two of you. 
"Miss!" Sean calls out to you, and Arthur chuckles, sipping his drink. Sean comes to you with a big toothless grin, a contagious one, and wraps you in a hug.
"Ah, I've already got the gossip from Ms. Jones, callin ya Star now, eh?" Sean asks, letting you go before nudging you with his elbow, "It's fittin! Y'know they say you twose are tied together like glue!" Sean winks at you lightly, nudging you and gesturing to Arthur. 
"I know a couple good spots for a shag if you two need a getaway. N' I know an Irishman if you get tired a' this ol'-" Sean starts, pointing to Arthur, but Arthur has had enough.
"Would you please shut up?" Arthur bites, hand pulling away from the bridge of his nose as you giggle. Sean puts his hands up in mock surrender. 
"I was just teasin'! Only pullin' yer leg!" Sean chuckles, tipping his hat to you before backing away and rejoining the crowd. 
"I did not miss that kid." Arthur sighs, leading you towards the campfire where Javier sits, playing a tune. Everyone is in good spirits, especially as Hosea enters with Dutch and two huge, full cases of alcohol, announcing the return party. 
"Yes you did." You tell Arthur, smirking as he sits down on the wolf pelt covered log. You sit down right next to him, closer than what's expected, but you're growing used to the proximity, finding comfort in it even. Sean is talking loudly to the girls as everyone gathers around the crates of hooch. The bottles pass around quickly as Javier picks up a new tune. It's one that everyone knows, and you smile. 
"Cielito Lindo." You remark with a chuckle as Javier picks up the rhythm on his guitar. More people gather around the fire. Dutch, John, the girls, Uncle, Lenny, even Abigail and Jack join in as Javier starts to play. Jack sits on John's lap, nestled right next to Abigail, and you smile at them. 
"¡Ay, ay, ay, ay! ¡Canta y no llores!" Everyone hollers out, not sure of the lyrics or their meaning, but enjoying the energetic song. Even Arthur sings along, and you giggle at his steadily behind, off key tune. 
"¡Porque cantando se alegran, Cielito lindo, los corazones!" Javier sings out, passionately stringing the guitar as a few people clap along and laugh. The smile on your face is brighter than it's been in a while as you watch the weight lift off of the gang's shoulders. Arthur is smiling, and for that you are very grateful. You'd do anything to see him like this more often, carefree and happy. Javier continues the song verse, and everyone claps along until the chorus comes. 
"¡Ay, ay, ay, ay! ¡Canta y no llores!" Everyone calls out again, and you hold your drink up a little as you sing it. Javier continues the song, and you chuckle as Jack pulls Abigail up from her seat to dance with him. He spins around and hops with very little rhythm, just having fun. Arthur chuckles beside you, eyes bright as they lay upon the same scene. 
"You want another drink?" Arthur asks, noticing that your first is nearly gone. You shake your head. 
"No thanks, think I'm cuttin' myself off for the night." You say, handing the bottle over for him to finish. 
"I'm surprised you drank at all after that mess in Valentine." Arthur chuckles as Javier sings out the song's verse. 
"I only had one. Don't plan on bein' that sick ever again, and we got one hell of a job to do tomorrow." You whisper, mind lingering on the train job. You'd like to drink, just to forget about it, but heading into it with a foggy mind is the opposite of what you need. Arthur sighs, digging the heel of his boot into the dirt. 
"We do." He remarks, eyes flickering up to Dutch. Arthur can't understand why Dutch is pushing this job right now with the Pinkertons so close. But he trusts Dutch, and knows he'll lead them out of it. You're not so sure. Dutch is watching you from across camp, a snake-like glint in his eye. You can see the way he wants to use you, to play you like his chess piece and defeat some great power. It's useless, it's ridiculous. An outlaw runs from the law, but Dutch is challenging it, intentionally aggravating it. It's a dangerous game. 
"I got a bad feeling about this job, Arthur." You bring up that gut feeling again, and you know you're right. You don't trust this job, and something is going to go wrong. 
"I know you do… You and John get that wagon today?" Arthur asks as Javier picks up a different song on his guitar. 
"We got the wagon just fine, but it's empty. We were caught red handed and they shot it to hell, all the oil leaked out." You sigh, embarrassed to admit the failure to Arthur, "John says it'll work just fine though, the conductor won't know if it's empty or not." You add as Arthur curses. 
"Enough about that, why don't we just enjoy the party?" You ask, wanting to talk about anything other than the train job and the damn empty wagon. Arthur taps your knee with his knuckles. 
"Sure." He says, offering you a small smile and you release a breath. Javier is playing a new song now, one you don't recognize, but it's a joyful tune, light and happy. 
"Arthur!" Marybeth calls from across the fire, giggling and trodding over towards you both with a big, bright smile. 
"Yes, Miss Gaskill?" Arthur asks as Marybeth comes forward and grabs one of his hands. 
"Dance with me?" She asks, leaning back in an attempt to pull him from his seat. He chuckles, looking over to you for a moment with a rosy blush on his cheeks.
"Oh, I think I'll sit this one out-" Arthur starts, but you shove him upwards by his shoulder, laughing. 
"Go on!" You encourage, shooing them with your hands. Marybeth giggles as she pulls Arthur away, and he turns around to shoot you a glare, with pink cheeks. You chuckle, looking after them as she takes him away from the fire. She pulls him just near the back of Dutch's tent, beside the poker table. He takes her hand, standing awkwardly far from her as the other rests on her waist. You can't help but snort as he starts to dance.
He's awful. Truly the man can't dance, but it's just another quirk that you love about him. He swings side to side with her, arms loosely flinging about, and even though it looks ridiculous they both have huge smiles. A few others have joined, and now Dutch spins Molly around eloquently, and Karen and Sean cling to each other, drunk as ever. Your eyebrows pop up in surprise at the two of them. You had only seen Sean in passing before Blackwater, but Karen had never mentioned they were together. 
Your eyes flicker back to Arthur and Marybeth. They still dance merrily, but Marybeth seems to be scolding Arthur over something, arguing with him. Your eyebrows pull together as he huffs, bickering with her like a sibling would. Javier's song crescendos to an end, and as the claps die down, he starts a new one. You recognize it immediately, Ángel de Amor. It's a slower paced song, a sweet and romantic one. People join their own conversations as the song begins, leaving Javier to quietly carry the tune on his own. As it begins, Marybeth and Arthur's argument seems to come to a head as Marybeth gives him one final scold, and then walks away from him with a big smile. Confused, your eyebrows pull together as Arthur returns to you, but he doesn't sit down. He stands in front of you, extending his right hand down to yours. 
"Dance wit' me?" He asks, and you chuckle. 
"I don't know, you gonna trip me?" You ask, smiling up at him. The nervousness breaks away as he chuckles. 
"Not tonight." He says, and you take his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. 
"C'mon." He whispers, leading you past the campfire towards the front of his tent, far enough away from the campfire for some privacy.
Arthur pulls you into the same goofy dance as he did with Marybeth, and you smile brightly. Arthur's sure that your smile could outshine the stars, evoking that joy from you is one of the better things he's done in his life, something he wants to keep doing. 
"¿Quién te cortó las alas, mi ángel? ¿Quién te arranco los sueños hoy?" Javier sings softly as Arthur dances with you. 
"Y'know, I'm sorry to say this Arthur, but you can't dance for shit." You chuckle, glancing down at his feet that move with very little rhythm. 
"Oh I can. I'm just havin' fun. You shoulda seen me in my ballroom days." Arthur quips, and you laugh. You're sure he's joking, how Arthur could willingly be put in a ballroom is beyond you, it's surely a joke. Arthur raises an eyebrow at your laugh, wondering if you're seriously doubting him.
"You weren't never in a ballr-" You start, but are cut off with your own gasp as Arthur pulls you tightly against him. His hand snakes to your waist, his other clasps your hand tightly as he stands up straight and tall with a raised eyebrow. His body is stiff, but relaxed all the like, he's collected in his movements, experienced, as he leans you down, dipping you. Your eyes are wide in shock, as he holds you in the dip with a cocky smirk. Your heart rate pounds with him pulled so tightly against you, your neck exposed and hair cascading down as he bends you backwards. Then he brings you back up, chuckling. 
"You continue to surprise me more and more every day, Arthur." You chuckle, still in disbelief, "Where in the hell did you learn that?" You ask, heart beat returning to normal as he pulls you against him again, swaying you in a very simple slow dance. 
"Had to take lessons once when I was younger. Didn't care for it at all, but I was an idiot back then." Arthur says, and you hum, wondering if these fancy dancing lessons have anything to do with the letter in his tent.
"Ángel, Ángel, ángel de amor. No te abandones." Javier continues the song as Arthur pulls you a little closer to him, hand warm on your waist.
Your cheeks flush, hidden away in his chest as Arthur sways with you on the grass. A few eyes linger on you both, but Arthur turns your back to them so you never know. He's enjoying the moment. You haven't left yet, haven't walked away with blushed cheeks or made an excuse as to why you can't dance with him, and that has to count for something he's sure.
 It grows quiet between the two of you as you rest your head against his shoulder and sway with him. Soon your arm grows tired, so Arthur snakes both of his around your waist and you place yours on his chest. It's incredibly vulnerable for you to be like this, but you trust Arthur. He hasn't pushed you. Abigail nudges John across the camp, nodding her head to you, and a few more eyes linger on you both. Arthur ignores them, keeping you in a position so that you can't even see the nosey stares. 
"You look beautiful." Arthur whispers, eyes looking down at you, watching as the wind tousles your hair and your dark red shirt brings out your complexion beautifully. Your eyes sparkle up at him, but you blush and hide them away in his shoulder as he sways you to the music.
"Arthur, stop." You chastise, cheeks red as you hide them. You're a bit upset that he's ruined the mood, taken your mind from simple dancing to the conundrum of your heart. He hums deeply, nodding his head. 
"You ain't ready yet, I know… I'll wait 'til you are. For you, I will." Arthur whispers, and tears begin to pool in your eyes, "And if you decide you don't want any a' this, that's okay too. I'm still your best friend." Arthur whispers, and tears run down your face silently, soaking into his dark shirt. 
"I'll dance with you for real one day, somewhere nice." Arthur whispers, and you look up to his green eyes. They soften when they see the tears falling from your own. You're thinking of a proper response when Arthur speaks up for you. 
"S'okay. You don't gotta say anything." Arthur whispers, thumb wiping away the tears from your cheek. You sniffle, hands clinging to the lapels of his shirt as the music continues on for a bit longer. 
"Yo no siento el que me hayas querido. Yo no siento el que me hayas amado." Javier sings, strumming his guitar. 
Arthur's heart aches, holding you like this, swaying with you and knowing you won't allow yourself to open up. He places his chin atop your head, inhaling deeply before letting the breath go with his worries. You're here now, that's all he can ask for.
Your heart aches just the same. It's torn in two,  both sides fighting for different things. One is fighting for what you know: independence, freedom, and solitude in the west without being held down by a gang. And the other is fighting for what you want: family and friendships, the safety of numbers, purpose and most of all him. 
You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut while blocking the thoughts out, letting yourself enjoy the moment. 
"I'm sorry, Arthur." You whisper, and he leans back, unsure if he's heard you right. 
"What on earth are you apologizin' for?" He asks as Javier's song comes to a bittersweet end. 
"Me… us." You whisper, gesturing to him and yourself. You're a mess, unable to get your feelings in order, unable to figure out what you want, and to tell him. You feel awful, dragging him along without ever fully opening up to him but it's so hard. 
Arthur takes your hands in his own, and you look up to his eyes. 
"Cut that out. Don't you apologize to me, ya hear? Not for this." Arthur says, no room for argument and you nod. 
"Now c'mon. Plenty of people waitin' for us at the fire." Arthur says, pulling you by the hand towards the camp. You pass by John's tent, feeling a little better.
With a small smile on your lips, you walk on with him. That is until you hear a shuffling from John's tent, and a groan. You stop dead in your tracks, looking up to where John and Abigail sit next to Jack by the fire. If they're at the campfire… who's in their tent?
"C'mere ya little minx!" Sean chuckles from inside the tent. Your jaw drops, and your hand falls slack from Arthur's. He turns at your reaction, catching the same scene. 
"Isn't this John's tent?" Karen asks, and you hear the ripping of buttons immediately. You look at Arthur with wide eyes, and a slack jaw, chuckling in horror.
"Eh, it's not like he's usin' it anyways!" Fabric hits the floor as you and Arthur stare at the closed tent in shock, "Ah, you're beautiful Karen Jones, beautiful, I love ya! And I love these too!" Sean chuckles and your cheeks burn red.
"Oh." Karen whispers, disappointed in something as you start to laugh. 
"Meet Macguire junior!" Sean hollers, and immediately Arthur clasps his hand over your mouth to quiet the loud laughter that was about to fall from it. 
"Is- is that it?" Karen asks, and you're nearly wheezing as Arthur keeps his hand over your mouth, chuckling himself until you're out of earshot from their tent. 
"Oh my god." You laugh until tears form in your eyes, and Arthur is laughing as well. You've managed to escape in front of Arthur's tent to avoid the show those two are putting on. Once your laughter dies down, you wipe your eyes, moving them to the campfire once more. 
Abigail has taken Jack into her lean-to next to Strauss's wagon to lie down for the night, and some of the girls along with Dutch and Molly have retired for bed. 
"You comin' back to the fire?" Arthur asks, following your gaze. You look up to him, then to the festivities, biting your cheek. 
"I think I'm gonna go to bed, actually." You whisper, feeling bad for bailing so soon. You're exhausted from the oil wagon today, and you want to be well rested for tomorrow. Arthur’s face falls a bit as he glances at the party behind him, then to his pocket watch. 
"So soon?" Arthur asks, looking a little disappointed. 
"I'm sorry Arthur, it's just with the train tomorrow… I want to be well rested with a clear head." You whisper. 
"I understand." He whispers, it's past one in the morning, and he knows you're tired, "I reckon I'll stay up for a bit yet, keep these boys in line… Get some sleep, Star." Arthur whispers, coming forward to gently chastise you, tapping your temple, "and stop worryin' about the train. It'll go just fine." He offers with a smile before backing away. 
"Night Arthur." You mumble, attempting to follow his instructions and release your anxieties. 
"G'night, Star."
— — — — 
The next morning, you wake up earlier than expected. You don't know what time it is, still haven't replaced Arthur's pocket watch from where it was left behind in Blackwater. But it's quiet enough for you to know that no one else is up. You stretch in bed, enjoying the feel as your achy joints pop. You flex your ankle, noticing that the ache has subsided from your less than stellar landing yesterday, and then you're getting up.
You pull on a dark green overshirt, one of your favorites, a black pair of jeans that button up the whole way, and a little white neckerchief, tied in the front. It's a cute outfit, and you hum, checking yourself over before re braiding your hair and topping it with your black hat. Then you're on the move, in search of some coffee. 
You find that you were wrong, you're not the only one up. You chuckle as Jack whizzes up to you, more excited than you've ever seen. 
"Aunt Star!" He jumps excitedly, taking your hand and pointing to the hitching posts, "look!" He shouts, giggling. 
Your eyebrows knit together at the sight of Kieran taking on the role of the camp farrier. He has a very grumpy Balius with him, and he's working on pulling the nails from the shire's massive shoe. 
"Kieren's shoin' the horses…? You ask, confused as to why Jack's so excited, then a chuckle sounds out from your right. Arthur is leaning over his shaving station, face partially covered in shaving cream as he trims his mustache and beard with a barber's blade. You smile at the sight, something you've not seen him do before. Of course he shaves with an incredible amount of detail and care, just like everything else he does. 
"Well…" Arthur taps the blade against his pail of water before returning it to his cheek, "when Kieran's done, little Jack here will have four new shoes for playin' horseshoes' with everyone. We haven't been able to play in a long while, not since before you joined us." Arthur explains, and you smile at the idea. 
"Well then I can't wait!" You say, rubbing some dirt off of Jack's cheek before he runs off, on his way to tell his very hungover daddy about the ordeal. 
"You're good with him. He really seems to care about you." Arthur remarks and you smile. 
"Ah, it's nothin'. He's a good kid." You mumble, remembering your earlier task of needing coffee, and you spot the percolator from across camp near Pearson's stew pot. You wonder if it's even full, with so few of the gang members awake. 
"I'm gonna go make some coffee, want some?" You ask, but Arthur stops you.
"Already made ya some. It's sittin on my table, should still be hot." He says, wiping the extra cream from his face with a damp towel.
"On the ball this morning, are we?" You ask, chuckling as you move inside his tent to find a steaming tin cup of coffee. You gratefully accept the bitter coffee, enjoying the way the cup warms your hands and the caffeine wakes your mind. 
"Well I need a favor." He asks, turning towards you, "Ride with me?" 
You raise an eyebrow at him, seeing that he's bribed you, but you nod anyway. 
"Sure, where to?" You ask as he comes around the side of his tent, leading you to the large map plastered to the side of his wagon. 
"Think right here is a good spot." He taps the map right over a little marshy field labeled Heartland Overflow.  
"Why are we goin' all the way out there?" You ask, eyeing over the map. The marsh is near a spot marked Emerald Ranch, a place you haven't heard of before. 
"There's a feller nearby that runs a fence. I managed to steal some stuff from the camp where they had Sean, reckon I'll head down and sell it off. Then I figure me n' you can spend the mornin' there. I know you're worried about this train, we can just rest away from camp till it's time." Arthur explains, pulling out his hunting knife to sharpen the blade as he does. 
"Okay, that sounds nice." You smile, releasing a breath before taking a sip from your coffee, "Should I take my stuff for the train or will we be back?" You ask, gesturing to your tent. 
He follows your gaze, thinking for a moment. 
"Ya better take it, I don't know how long we'll be out." He mumbles, and you nod before walking back towards your tent. Amidst your anxieties, you had packed everything you might need for the train: your guns, mask, canned goods in case you get stuck away from camp, extra ammo and the shotgun you'd found at Six Point cabin. Looking over your bed and nightstand just to make sure you haven't missed something, you back out of the tent. 
"Kieran done with Balius?" You ask, keeping your voice quiet as to not wake up the many sleeping, hungover gang members. 
"Looks to be just about." Arthur says, nodding to where Kieran drops Balius's back hoof to the ground, giving him a pat. 
"C'mon then. I'll lead the way." He adds. 
You both take your time tacking up the horses. For once, there's no rush to be anywhere. You brush Athena's golden coat thoroughly, petting her and sneaking her treats while Arthur does the same for his stallion. You ease the saddle on her, tightening the cinches just enough before mounting up. 
"Ready?" You ask, looking down to Arthur with a chuckle as he is just putting Balius's bridle on.
"Just a minute." He says, rather grumpily. And you wait for him, loosening your reins so that Athena can graze while he clambers up onto his massive horse. Once he's up, he nods for you to follow him out of camp. It's a decently long ride. Emerald Ranch is pretty far out there, but it's close to Dewberry Creek, so at least you won't be far from the train come dark. You focus on the scenery, watching the way the landscape changes the further you ride on. As you get closer, the jutting cliffs turn to grassy plains, and bison cause the ground to shake as they thunder across the fields. 
"Are we close?" You holler up to Arthur. Your back is a little sore from the long ride, and you slip your feet out of the stirrups to give your legs rest. 
"Sure…  Why? You feelin alright?" Arthur turns in his saddle, glancing over your form to check. Really you don't feel alright. You didn't sleep much last night, truthfully you're not sure how Arthur is awake because he slept less than you. You're still not able to shake your nerves either. 
"Yeah, just tired is all." You semi lie, but Arthur isn't fooled. 
"I'll take you to the Overflow first. You can set us up a proper picnic while I run this stuff down to the fence. Sound good?" Arthur asks, turning Balius off the main road. 
"Yeah. You brought a picnic?" You smile, noticing that Arthur's saddlebags are bulkier than usual. You should have noticed earlier that they're stuffed to the brim. 
"I did. Nothin' fancy but I figured you might get hungry while we're out here." Arthur answers, and you chuckle, wondering what treats he's packed for you. You trot through the grass, coming upon a little collection of grassy ponds. This must be Heartland Overflow. It's beautiful, and wildlife runs about, scattering at the sound of the horse's hooves. 
"Why don't you take my bag n' find us a nice spot?" Arthur asks as you ride up alongside Balius. He turns in his saddle, untying the knots that hold his saddle bag on before slumping it over Athena's croup. 
"Okay. Don't take too long or I'm gonna be havin' this all for myself." You admit, chuckling as you turn Athena away, separating from Arthur. 
Arthur shakes his head with a smile before pushing Balius into a canter towards a green-roofed barn in the distance. Once he's down the other side of the hill and you can't see him any longer, you turn to your surroundings. 
Across the pond is a large weeping willow. It provides a perfect amount of shade, and makes a beautiful spot for the morning. You kiss to Athena, urging her to walk through the ankle deep water toward the other side. Water splashes up and soaks onto your boots as Athena trots through it, enjoying the coolness on her legs. Once you're on the other side, under the weeping willow, you slide down from your mare. You don't bother to hitch her. She trusts you enough to come when you call, and you want her to enjoy the grassy fields while she can. You take the heavy saddle bag and toss it to the ground under the willow before sitting on your knees to go through it. 
First you take out a blanket, it's a big blue one, and you stand to spread it out on the grass. The wind works to your advantage as you sprawl it out, making a perfect cushion for you both to sit on. Then, seated on the blanket, you pull out two cans of peaches, two bread rolls, a can of strawberries, two slices of beef jerky, and a chocolate bar. You eye the food hungrily, laying it out nice for when Arthur comes back. Then, just to double check, you reach back into the bag. Your fingers brush against an unfamiliar smooth texture, and your eyebrows pull together as you grip it, taking it out. 
Immediately your eyes go wide as, from the bag, you bring out Arthur's journal. You hold the precious book in your lap, looking down to the heavily used pages before looking up at the ridge.
You shouldn't… but Arthur won't be back for some time and you really want to know what he's written. You've only seen the contents of his journal once, back when he showed you in Horseshoe. 
Releasing a breath, you curse yourself, deciding just to flip to one page and then put it back. You run your thumb across the pages, flipping to one of the more recent entries. Immediately you smile, chuckling as your eyes run across the page briefly. It's a drawing of you and Lenny. He's leaning on the bar, drinking a beer and you're dancing in front of the pianist. Arthur had managed to capture the moment perfectly, as if he had paused time and drawn it. You scan down your smiling face, looking back to you in the form of Arthur's sketching. Even in the drawing you can see the drunken haze in your eyes, the freedom as you danced to the piano to your heart's content. 
Then your eyes flicker to the other side of the page where a neatly written entry is scribbled diagonally on the paper. 
In some ways I hope I never forget this night. In others, I wish to wipe it from my mind entirely. It seems that alcohol loosened Star's lips, and I guess it loosened mine too. I just hope I don't come to regret the things I said, the things I remember at least. 
You look up from the journal, jaw slack as you attempt to remember what happened that night. What had you said? What had Arthur said? 
You swallow thickly, looking down to the journal with some worry before flipping to the next page. 
Mary sent me a letter. Said she's in town and heard talk of us in Valentine. She wants to see me, said she misses what we had. I used to. I used to miss her a lot, but I reckon that's all old business now. I think I've finally put Mary in the past, moved on after all these goddamn years. I got some hope now, something good for once. 
You look up from the journal with your jaw open again. His journal has left you with more questions than answers, and you huff. Mary clearly meant something to Arthur at one point, perhaps an old fling? But the girls knew of her, so she had to mean something more. 
With a newfound sour mood, you tuck Arthur's journal back into his bag. Is it jealousy you feel? Or anger? You're not sure, but without having met her, Mary manages to get under your skin. You wonder if she's pretty, and if she has the money to wear nice dresses and makeup. Then you sigh, frustrated. Even though his journal is stuffed back into his bag, you can feel its leather cover burning into your skin, bugging you. 
Hooves sound out from the ridge line, and you look up to see Arthur appear over the hill. He's cantering down towards you, satchel lighter now that he's pawned off some items. Even though you're glad he's back, you can't help the annoyed curiosity that bubbles up in your stomach. 
Oblivious, Arthur rides up to the blanket before dismounting. 
"Good spot." He says, sending Balius off after grabbing a flask from his satchel, "Turns out old Seamus sells too." Arthur chuckles, tossing the moonshine flask down onto the blanket by your legs. 
Attempting to crack a smile, you take the flask and unscrew the lid. Arthur rests down on the blanket beside you, sitting just a few inches from you. Once the lid is undone, you take a swig of the alcohol. It burns, more so than anything you've ever drank, and you cough, throat raw from the stuff. 
"Jesus." You cough, handing the flask back to Arthur. 
"Moonshine. Nasty stuff." Arthur jokes, taking a drink from the same flask. He doesn't seem to mind it, only groaning once it's down. Arthur sees the distant look on your face, he notices that you haven't touched any of the food laid out either. 
"You okay?" Arthur asks, a little crease in between his eyebrows. You look upset, and Arthur hopes that you're not worrying about the train. 
"Who's Mary?" You blurt out, not even realizing you've actually said it out loud until Arthur's face draws up. 
"What?" Arthur asks, looking almost offended, and very surprised. 
"I asked you, who's Mary?" You repeat, looking up to Arthur. Your tone is irritated, and you realize that you're ruining the picnic, but you can't bring yourself to stop. You're mad, mad because Arthur has managed to keep this from you, and apparently you're the only one in the damn gang that doesn't know about her. 
"How do you even know about Mary?" Arthur scoffs, eyes squinted as he leans back from you. 
"Jesus, I didn't realize she was a secret. I guess I just wanna know why she's callin' you out to her house all the sudden when I haven't even heard of her before." You bite. 
Arthur's demeanor changes then, shifting to the angry, threatening man that you've only seen a handful of times in action. Part of you wants to shy away, but you push your shoulders back and meet him head on with the same stubborn aggression. 
"Did you read my damn mail?" Arthur hisses, glancing at you, and then down to the bag at your side. Everything seems to click in his head then, and he huffs humorlessly. 
"No. No you read my goddamn journal, didn't you? Just couldn't keep your nosey eyes off them pages huh?" He bites, picking up the bag just to toss it at your feet. The contents spill out in your lap, and his open journal falls out alongside the candies he had brought for you, the yellow ones. 
"Y'know I hope you read it all. I hope you read every damn page, cause then you won't have to ask anymore questions. We wouldn't be playin this damn game…" Arthur hisses, pacing as he begins to berate you. "Why do you have the right to ask me about Mary when you haven't told me shit about your past? You can't even talk to me. You can't open up at all, closed off like a damn bottle, but you have no problem pryin' into everybody else's lives!" He growls, waiting for you to bite back.
On the ground, feeling like a fool, your lip trembles. You know he's right. He's hit the nail right on the head with his assumption, but it hurts nonetheless. You've stepped too far, you know, but it doesn't stop Arthur from overstepping too. 
"Heard you was pryin' into John's business too. God- you're a hypocrite. Did you think at all about your inability to handle your own shit before you went and did that?" Arthur fumes, and you bring your knees up to your chin. Arthur is waiting for your retort, for your comeback. He knows it'll come, but with his back to you, waiting, it doesn't. You always have a retort, and your silence is louder than any insult you could have thrown back at him. When he turns back towards you, already realizing he's crossed a boundary, he sees the tear track running down your cheek.
"Don't." You whisper, sniffling back the tears that fall so often now, "I can take this from anyone but you." You whimper, head falling to your knees. 
When Arthur's eyes land upon you he doesn't know what to do. You look so small, crumpled up on the ground, a mess. He wants to argue with you, to be mad about the journal, but at the same time he wants to comfort you. He knows what you're battling right now, and he knows he shouldn't have brought it up. Feeling like an ass, Arthur slumps to the ground at your side again. He lays back against the blanket, looking up at the sky before sighing. 
"Mary was my fiancé. Long time ago. Ain't talked to her in years." Arthur admits, and you peek up from your knees, wondering what sparked the change in his tone. 
"Now that's all I'm giving you until you tell me somethin too. But for now, eat somethin. We gotta get movin soon." Arthur says, coldly. 
— — — —
It's nearly dark. There's just enough light for you to make the trip over to Dewberry Creek. You lead the way silently, still not having said a word to Arthur since the argument. You don't know what to say. Apologies aren't exactly your strong suit. You're mad. Mad at Arthur, but mostly mad at yourself for ruining the day with your selfishness, your hypocrisy as Arthur put it. 
You can hear Sean rambling as you approach the old building, and you trot Athena up to where the wagon is hidden. 
"Why the hell are you here?" Arthur snaps at Sean, clearly still irritated from earlier. You've put him in a sour mood, one that everyone is going to have to deal with. 
"Oi I’m just taggin along! Back for a day n’ already jumpin inta the action! My da always used to say that jumpin in was better than jumpin’ out! But I think he was talkin about gettin some arse!" Sean chuckles, not skipping a beat over Arthur's attitude. 
"Oh, shut up." Charles groans, and at the sound of his voice you notice him leaning against one of the beams of the burned down house. John is already in the driver's side of the wagon, and Taima and Old Boy are hooked up to the front. You dismount, walking over to the wagon behind Arthur. 
"Look at us! Four strong shootin men, and a lady!" Sean chuckles, climbing up on the wagon beside John who rolls his eyes. 
"Shouldn't we be going over the plan?" Charles points out, climbing onto the side of the wagon to hang on, just as you and Arthur do on the other side. The wagon begins to roll out of the trees as John smacks the reins over the horse's backs. 
"We roll the wagon over the tracks and leave the horses go." John explains, "They'll see the oil and stop. It's easy." 
Sean turns in his seat, looking over the wagon before turning back to John. 
"Yeah but t'eres no oil in the wagon." Sean points out, and collectively everyone else rolls their eyes. 
"Well the conductor don't know that, so it don't matter!" John bites, irritated with everyone's doubts and questions. 
"I don't like it…" You whisper, gripping onto the metal bars of the wagon as it rolls down the road, inching closer towards the train tracks. 
"We ain't got much of a choice." John replies. Once the plan is set, Arthur begins ordering people around, crafting a more detailed plan for the job. 
"As soon as she stops, board her. Charles, deal with the conductor and the front security. John take the passengers. Sean and Star, as soon as she slows, head to the baggage car." He orders, and you roll your eyes at the assignment he's stuck you with. 
"And what are you gonna do?" Charles asks. 
"I'm gonna make sure she slows." 
John pulls the wagon forward, slowing the horses to a stop once the oil wagon is situated over the tracks. You jump down as John and Arthur begin untying the horses from the front, sending them away into the woods.
"Is everyone good with the plan?" Arthur hollers, and you look around, realizing that this is happening. It's inescapable now, and you'll have to deal with the anxiety in your chest. 
"Yeah, we're good." Charles answers, and you nod your head, eyes fixed on the bed in the railroad tracks where the train will be approaching shortly. 
"Alright everyone get in the woods!" Arthur orders, pulling his mask up over his nose before placing one of his boots on the iron track. Charles notices your hesitancy, and grips your arm to pull you towards the treeline. 
"Hey, you alright?" Charles asks, pulling your neckerchief up over your nose as you've forgotten. You nod, a little too quick for his liking. 
"Just nervous." You admit. 
"Just stick with Sean. You'll be okay." Charles offers, squeezing your shoulder lightly. You nod, focusing your attention back on Arthur. 
You feel the vibration of the train long before you see it coming. Arthur's boot shakes against the track, and once he feels it coming he climbs up on top of the oil wagon. You gasp, eyes going wide as he holds his carbine in front of him, in a threatening stance on top of the wagon. He looks like nothing short of a criminal up there, a cold hearted killer. He stands on the wagon with a threatening stance, symbolizing everything that the government wishes to destroy. Feet planted on either side of the oil barrel, it doesn't appear that Arthur will be giving the law a break any time soon. The sight of him standing up on that wagon is one you're sure you'll never forget. If you didn't know Arthur, you'd be terrified. 
Nothing can be heard but uneven, anxious breathing as the train comes around the corner. it's far off, too far for the conductor to see Arthur, but once the bright white headlight peeks around the bend your breath hitches in your throat. 
Arthur cocks his repeater, and you watch as the train comes closer. You expect the train to blow its whistle, for the conductor to do something to warm off Arthur, but he doesn't. Your eyebrows draw together as the train continues to barrel forward, unbothered by the obstruction ahead.
"Why ain't it slowin'?" You ask, breath uneven as your heart rate picks up speed. 
No one responds, watching as it continues forward. Even Arthur seems to lose his composure, stance faltering as the train continues on. It's getting closer to the wagon, and you're not sure if it'll have time to stop before it crashes. 
"There's still time. Hold on." Sean says, eyes flickering up to the rapidly approaching train. 
"John?! Why ain't it stoppin?!" You beg, looking frantically between Arthur and the train. Charles pulls out a pair of binoculars, looking through them to the engine car. 
"Shit! He's dead or he's asleep, but either way the train isn't stopping." Charles says, stuffing his binoculars back as anxiety pangs in your chest. The train is too close now, it can't stop in time even if the conductor were to wake up.
"ARTHUR JUMP!" John screams as all four of you jog out of the woods. Arthur glances between the group of you and the train, unable to hear over the rumbling and screeching. 
"JUMP!" You plead, screaming. Arthur glances at the train once more, and getting the message he jumps as far out as he can. He hits the ground hard, rolling down the slope before he stops. It's only seconds later that the train smashes into the oil wagon. You thank god it's empty, and there's no explosion, but the metallic screech hurts your ears as the train pushes the wagon over in a huge crash. Sparks fly as metal scrapes off metal, but the train carries on forward, pushing the oil wagon in front of it until itfalls off to the side. 
"Why the hell didn't he stop?!" Arthur yells, whistling for Balius.
"The conductor is dead!" You yell, "Are we really still doin' this?" 
Four horses come running up the hill towards you, and the boys mount up ahead of you. 
"Yes! Now mount up, we can catch it before it gets to Rhodes!" John yells, and you leap onto Athena, urging her forward before you even put your feet in the stirrups. The chase is terrifying. It's hard to see in the dark, and you put full trust into Athena as she barrels forward after the train. Sean is the first to catch up, and he jumps from his horse onto the train's roof.
Your heart pounds in your ears as you run forward, watching as Charles, John and Arthur all jump onto the train. 
"Star, cmon!" Arthur yells, and you try to breath as you stand in your saddle, barely able to balance. You jump as far as you can, hoping that you'll make it. The jump is terrifying, but worse is the pain as your body slams against the side of the train. Only your hands have made it to the top as you grip onto the roof, feet dangling down to the rapidly passing ground below. Then a hand grips yours, and pulls you up into the roof. You gasp, looking up to yours and Arthur's hands, muttering a small 'thanks' between trembling breaths. 
"Plan stays the same. Charles, get this thing stopped!" Arthur orders, just as two armed guards climb up onto the roof.
"They're fixin' to rob the train!" One of the boys yells and starts shooting from his revolver. You unholster your own, balancing on the quick moving train as you fire twice into the man's chest. The second man breaches the top, and Sean takes him down with a headshot. The train makes you motion sick, and you have to bite down bile, forcing your eyes away from the ground. 
"We're gettin' too damn close to the town!" John yells, firing into more men as they climb up onto the roof. 
You whip around, looking for Charles to see if he's made progress in getting to the engine car. You don't see him on the roof, so you assume he's close. 
"John! Get down there, me and Star will hold them off. Sean, get to the baggage car!" Arthur yells out. They follow his orders, jumping down to the train cars from behind you and Arthur. 
"Why's there so many?" You yell over the noise as two more men fire toward you.
"I don't know, sure are a lot for an unguarded train- goddammit!" Arthur yells back. 
You lose your balance as the train quickly starts to slow down. Sparks fly and metal screeches as the train begins to slow. You release a breath, reloading your revolver as more guards shoot at you from across the train cars. The train never stops, instead in one fluid movement it slows enough and then starts going backwards.
"Wait- wait, shit!" You yell as the train starts moving in reverse. Just as quickly as the train has stopped, it starts accelerating in the wrong direction, back towards Valentine. 
"What the hell is happenin?" You scream back towards the engine car. You fire into one last guard, and then they stop coming up to the roof for now. 
"We're goin' too fast!" You point out, losing your balance again as trees start to blur by, making you dizzy. 
"Shit, I know. Just get to Sean, I'll see what's happenin' up front!" Arthur hollers, bracing himself as he jumps onto the next train car. 
"Star?" Arthur yells, and you turn around, "Don't get hurt." You nod, and with that he turns, running on the rapidly reversing train towards the engine.
You try to calm down your breathing as you run across the tops of the train cars, jumping as far as you can between each one. Your heart pounds rapidly in your ears, and the train accelerating is nothing but a background noise in your head. Revolver in hand, eventually you make it to the baggage car. 
"Sean you alive?" You yell, bracing yourself as you jump from the roof down onto the platform below. The land sends an ache through your knees, but you do land. 
"Yeah makin out real good down here!" Sean hollers back as you enter the caboose. 
"Why the hell are we in reverse?" Sean asks, stuffing a saddle bag full of cash and jewelry. You immediately get to helping him, ripping open the cupboards and stripping them of their content before shoving the precious items into Sean's bag. 
"I got no idea. Arthur n Charles are dealin' with it." You respond, glancing out the window and gasping when you see that you're nearing Flatneck Station. You've crossed the state line back into New Hanover, and in less than five minutes you'll be crossing over Bard's Crossing, the infamously high railroad bridge. 
"Oh my god, fuck." You curse, stuffing the bags even quicker. Shots ring out from the roof, and you gasp, neck snapping up. 
"That's gotta be Arthur or Charles." You gasp. You look down the train cars to see John pistol whip a man for not giving up his money. 
"Go help ‘em! I'm alright here for now!" Sean hollers, and you nod, running out of the car. Momentarily holstering your gun, you leap up onto the roof, pulling yourself up. Arthur is up there, shooting at a couple of men across the train as you run up to help him.
"You guys got the money?" He asks. 
"Yeah! Why ain't we stopped?!" You yell, shooting at the men, and clipping one in the neck. He falls off the train, and you wince as his body cracks against the quickly passing ground. Just then, Charles comes running across the cars, jumping over the gaps towards you. 
"Conductors dead! Doors locked and he fell on the reverse lever. I can't stop it." Charles explains, "We gotta go NOW, it's not stopping!" He yells, just as two more boys climb up onto the roof. 
"Rot in hell you bastards!" One yells, and you go to reload your revolver, but it's empty. You curse, looking ahead to where the caboose is barreling towards the bridge. 
A man climbs up from behind you, taking you by surprise as he knocks the gun from Arthur's hand. Arthur turns around and punches him right in the face, nose cracking as blood pours from his face. 
"Get off the train! I got this bastard!" Arthur yells, and you hyperventilate, glancing between him and the bridge. Sean and John have already jumped, and you see them riding alongside the train with Athena, Taima and Balius. Charles jumps down, just as Arthur kicks the man off the side of the train. He hits the ground with a sickening crack, and Arthur turns to you, no longer asking. 
"Star, go!" Arthur commands, and you gasp as another man comes up from the side of the train, pulling Arthur into a chokehold from behind.
"Get down here! We can't help him till you're out the way!" John screams up to you, and panicking, you leap. The jump is terrifying, and the land onto your saddle knocks the breath out of you. But then you're safe on Athena, barreling towards the cliffs edge where the bridge begins, waiting for Arthur to deal with the last guard. 
"Does anyone have a shot on him?" Sean yells, gun aimed up at the man who is fighting Arthur. Arthur's body is bigger than the man, and at the angle you're at, it's impossible to kill him without killing Arthur. Arthur struggles, elbowing the man in the gut to break free from his chokehold. 
"No!" John yells back. 
"Arthur!" You scream, though futile, watching as the train gets closer to the bridge. 
"I got this bastard." Arthur chokes out, coughing as he elbows the man enough to get away from his grip. You slide Athena into a stop to avoid running off a cliff as the train starts to go over the bridge. The wind howls in your ear from the elevation as you watch on in horror.
"What do we do!? John-" You whimper, feeling useless and helpless as Arthur punches the man, fists raised as they brawl atop the train. 
"He'll be okay. He will. He'll get down on the other side and we'll run over and get him." John replies. All you can do is watch as the train accelerates across the bridge, and you've never been so afraid in your life. Arthur takes a punch in the gut, leaving him vulnerable. 
"Does anyone have a shot!!?" Sean screams, gun raised. But Arthur is still in the way, and no one can help him, he's on his own.
Somehow the next moment happens in a lifetime, and a fraction of a second. Arthur takes a punch straight straight to the gut, and he doubles over, left vulnerable. The guard steadied himself, lifting his leg until the sole of his boot meets Arthur's stomach. The train is rolling right over the highest part of the bridge as the guard kicks out. Arthur stumbles, and the kick sends him falling over the side of the train. 
All the air leaves your lungs, your eyes go wide, and everything stops as Arthur falls. You're frozen, watching as Arthur falls down past the bridge. It's a high drop, too high. Your eyes go wide as Arthur's arms stretch up, attempting to grasp onto something that isn't there as he plummets two hundred feet down to the lake below.  
"No-" You breathe out, just barely a whisper as you stumble down from Athena, nearly falling from the saddle. 
"Arthur!-" John gasps.
"NO!-" You scream, breaths coming in quick, uncontrollable pants as tears fill your eyes and fall out in thick rivulets. You stumble to the ledge of the bridge, on the tracks, gripping the fence so tight that your knuckles turn white. 
The other three men are slack jawed, horrified. They all gasp, stunned beyond being capable to speak. When you look down, you see the rippling water where Arthur had landed, landed but not come back up.  
"NO!!" You sob, unable to hold back your tears as you fall back, hands never leaving the fence. Your cries are shoulder shaking, and you can't bring yourself to care that you are sobbing in front of the other men. 
"Get back to camp right now and don't get followed." John orders Charles and Sean, tears in his eyes that he quickly wipes away. They comply, silently nodding before turning their horses and galloping home, shell-shocked.
You're too stunned to notice what's going on around you, but your sobs have slowed, turned into aching, painful heaves as your nails dig into the fence, as if you holding on to it will pull Arthur back up to you. 
"Star?" John whispers, so quiet from behind you. You shake your head, knowing what he's going to ask of you. 
"Star, we gotta go. The law will be here soon." John tries to reason, fighting his own internal ache. You're not having it, not leaving, and John places his hands on your shoulders, begging you to come with him. You can't stop looking down at the rippling water, waiting for him to come back up, and tearing your eyes away when he doesn't, a vicious cycle. 
"W-we can't leave him John. What if he- what if he's down there and he needs help?" You cry, lungs aching. 
"I know. We won't. We won't leave him. But we can't help him if the law gets to us." He says, and you nod frantically, thinking over his idea. 
He tries to pull you backwards, away from the bridge. You make it two steps back before the anxiety of not seeing the water wins over and your body practically shies away from John. 
"I can't- I can't go, he…" You begin, biting your cheek until it bleeds, stuck in a state of shock that you can't shake. 
"John, what if he didnt-" You sob, unable to finish the sentence that plagues your mind along with the image of his plummet. 
"He did… Star I ain't goin back to camp missing two people, please come home." He pleads, turning as law whistles sound in the distance. 
"No. I can't." You say, stern in your choice. Because what is there to go back to without him? And what if he needs help?
"Where will you go?" He asks, glancing to the whistles in the distance. 
"I guess across the river so I-" your face crumbles at the idea, "so I can look for him." 
John nods, whistling lowly for Old Boy. The horse trots forward, and John quickly unwraps his camp kit from Old Boy's saddle before tightening it onto Athena's. 
"My camp kit. Take it, you'll need it." He turns to you then, red eyes looking into yours. "Be safe out here… and don't lose yourself. Arthurs my brother. But if he ain't back in a day or two, you gotta come home. He'd want that." John says, voice even raspier than usual as he deals with his emotion. You nod, tears filling your eyes as places his hand on your shoulder.
"If he comes back to camp I'll come for you right away." He offers, and you nod. 
And then he's mounting up, offering you a bittersweet tip of his hat as he rides away. And you're suddenly alone. There's no one here to pick up your broken pieces, so you pick them up yourself, climbing into the saddle and cantering away from the approaching law whistles. You don't try to stop the tears. Some are silent, sliding down your face and dripping into your saddle, but some are loud, and you have to leave go of the reins to sob into your hands. You make it to the other side of the river thanks to Athena, with Balius trotting beside you the entire way. No one tells you what to do when something like this happens. You're lost, left to figure it out as you operate like a shell of a human being, going through the motions to avoid the law. 
Once you're across the Dakota, situated just on the treeline close to the bank you slide down from your mare to sit in the grass, knees held up to your chin as you watch the water. You've never seen it so still. There's not a ripple other than the steady flow out to the lake. The law whistles get louder, and you listen for them as you numbly watch the water for hours, lost in your head. Eventually the law dissipates, giving up and going home.
You don't know if he's dead or not, but the chances of him being okay right now are bad. The bridge hangs over the horizon like a tyrant, a constant reminder of what's just happened. You try to avoid looking at it, try to avoid seeing the fall, the fear in his eyes as his feet left the train. 
You can't help but drift to the fact that your last real conversation was an argument, and you ache to go back in time and spend the day at his picnic like he'd planned. He was right about you. You're a hypocrite. All Arthur has done since you met him was offer kindness when you didn't deserve it. He gave and gave and you took and took. He told you his feelings time and again through his words and his actions. And you rejected him again and again. All because you were afraid. He said it when you went fishing with Jack, he said it when you danced at Sean's party and when you were drunk under the stars. Arthur told you he would wait. He would wait until you were ready. And here you are. It appears your time is up, and Arthur has waited all he can. 
You think back to that first night in Colter, what you'd told yourself that rang out to be true… good people die. 
Nothing happens for a long while. You don't move, and your limbs ache from your curled up position, but you don't care. You've been watching the water for hours to no avail, but then it happens. Something small washes up on the shore, something black. And as soon as your eyes flicker towards it your face crumples, and falls into your knees with a sob. 
"No, no, not him- please." You whimper to yourself quietly, realizing that he's really gone.
You wipe away your tears, finding the strength to stand up from the grass and pluck the object from the shoreline where it washed up. In your hand is an all too familiar black leather hat, wrapped with rope and adorned with a one of a kind hat ornament. 
You place it on the ground by your legs, curling in on yourself as the grief overtakes you, causing your body to ache and your lungs to burn from the sobs that erupt from them. 
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vintagevict0ria · 2 months
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𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞
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Chapter 2 "Ive been watching you for ages..."
pairing: Adam Driver x f!reader content: alcohol consumption, use of Y/n. a/n: oh gosh guys im so sorry this took SOOO LONG!! I have not had any motivation but i was determined to get this out! part 3 will not take as long!! Added a tag for all my works: #victoriassecrets!!
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Endless scrolling turned into you following asleep. When you woke up, you found a pool of spit under your chin and your phone was dead. Rolling your eyes, you sat up stretching your arms before plugging your phone in and wiping your face. Today you had planned to get breakfast with Carolina today, to debrief from the past few days. It had caught you by surprise how much your co-star had been on your mind- an unhealthy amount you should say…
Hopefully this date would help clear your mind and focus on the actual movie and not Adam Driver. 
You arrived at the coffee shop shortly before Carolina did so you found a table by the window. When she arrived: she lit up instantly when her eyes met yours. “Hey girl!!!!” She let out a squeal of excitement as she frolicked over. Standing up, you embraced her in your arms. “Oh em gosh we have so much to talk about!!” Of course, Carolina couldn't wait to start talking. Sitting back down, you took a sip of hot coffee before speaking “So i want to discuss how JJ is planning on building and establishing me and- Sorry- Taylor and Johns (you and Adams characters) relationship”
“He wants you and Adam to get to know each other from the other side of the camera so that way we have something to build off of before we start filming.”  This caught you by surprise.In the past, no directors had asked you to have an actual connection that isn't just acting.
“We have 7 weeks till filming starts and I've already scheduled you and Adam a reservation at the restaurant down the road for tonight- lets get ahead yeah?” Dinner. Tonight. With Adam. It was hard to imagine what this could possibly mean. “So it's a date basically?”
“Oh gosh no silly!” She laughed, shaking her head. “Just think about it as a…” she paused. “Yeah it's basically a date.”
Oh Carolina, why would you do this to me!!
“No the red! No wait- the blue! wait - yes the red! Wait..” Holding up the two dresses and making Carolina pick was impossible. She was your hype woman and you looked good and anything but gosh this woman could not pick to save her life. “Girl, just pick! I'm going with the red-” before you could finish Adams manager walked in-”The cab will be here in an hour” she left quickly after dropping the news. Lovely, now I'm being rushed. 
“Ok pick a dress and i’ll get someone her to fix your hair and makeup-”
“No- I got this. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
Carolina smiled, looking up from her phone and going over to hug you. “First impressions are everything” she whispered in your ear. All you could do was laugh.
Dress? Red(or blue?) No yeah red…
Hair? Down! No up!! Wait… Down!!
Makeup? Uhhhhhh…
“Ms. Y/L/N! The cab is here!!”
Crap! You quickly grabbed your purse and ran downstairs while still trying to put shoes on. After who knows how long, you finally got your shoes on and was greeted by Adam. 
“Evening.” He said, holding out his arm.
“Good evening.” You joyfully intertwined your arm around his elbow, letting him guide you into the cab. 
The flash of the cameras was bleeding. Being an actor in Hollywood meant stalkers, love letters, cat calls, and of course- paparazzis. Security did their best to quickly get you too into the car with little to no time for the cameras to catch a glance of you and your co-star. As soon as you entered the car- a woman- around the age of 20, started pounding at the window of the car. “Adam! You are so hot! Have my ba-” the car sped off before the woman had a chance to finish. You glazed over at Adam but he didn't seem fazed at all. Was he used to this? The ride was quiet. All that could be heard was the rolling on the car on the roads of LA and the faint playing of the radio. Before you could be relieved of the stress of this event, you stupidly went on instagram and your DM’s were full of pictures that the paparazzis had taken just minutes ago. The pictures were not as clear as expected considering you basically ran to the car. You could just faintly make out the scene of Adams' arm around yours. 
Once you arrived at the restaurant, the door swung open and a doorman held out his hand to you. You hesitantly grabbed it. Making sure your dress didn't get caught in the car door- you exited the vehicle and was once again escored beside Adam and security. Little to no paparazzis were around but somehow, many civilians knew you two were expected. Some profanities and obscure things were shouted but you too paid no attention to them. The restaurant lights were wildly contrasted with the dark outside. Adjusting to the lighting, you walked over to a table that was draped with a white cloth along with two wine glasses, silver wear, and a candle. Adam pulled out the seat, gesturing to you to sit down. Embarrassed, you smiled and whispered ‘thank you’ under your breath. Adam sat down across from you.
“So-” Adam began to speak, his brown eyes looked so whimsical in the lighting. Before speaking again, he cleared his voice. “Where are the menus?” He chuckled, looking around the restaurant. At Least he was trying to make this not awkward as possible.
“I was just thinking that! Have you ever been here before?” You scanned the room, it was quite empty- well entirely empty.
“No, you?” You shook your head. Right as you were going to say something, your waiter walked over, pen and paper in hand. “Apologies for the wait- what can I start you off to drink?” You both ordered a glass of red wine to start and shortly after receiving menus- ordered entries. Taking a sip of your drink, Adam asked “Thoughts on the film so far? Well, the script that is.” He brushed his hair back, still making eye contact with you. You couldn't believe you were having dinner with Adam Driver. He was so beautiful and there was something about him that wouldn't allow you to look away.
“I like it! Also- apologies for Carlonia setting this whole ‘date’ thing up- she can be really extra sometimes' ' putting date in quotes excentauted how awkward this dinner was. You hoped he would just laugh it off but- oh no.
“Carolina?” he laughed, shaking his head while looking down, “No, this wasn't JJs or Carolinas idea. It was mine.”
_________________________
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nhstadler · 4 months
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3 9 7  P A G E S
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Hey everyone! I realised it's been forever since I posted anything and since I'm not quite finished with the chapter, I thought I'd at least post a story snippet to let you know that I haven't fogotten about you and about HNTBAW. It's just been a little much lately and I've been struggling with writer's block (as always).
But anyway, this is a random scene from the post Hogwarts series (which I might title A Catalogue of Us). It's kind of a flashback memory sort of thing and maybe it's a little confusing and sad, but maybe some of you enjoy it. I hope you had wonderful holidays / Christmas if you celebrate it and I promise I'm still writing.
Let me know what you think if you feel like it... hearing from you guys always helps my motivation, honestly :)
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When James fell, the world stood still. I stood still. 
Sometimes I still dream about it. His muddled form falling through the sky, the burst of levitation spells in the pouring rain, like perverse fireworks, missing him again and again and again. There was nothing anyone could have done and yet… 
And yet.
I take a sip of my coffee, trying to banish the scraps of the nightmare that still cling to my mind as I wrap the blanket tighter around my shoulders. The air is crisp, laced with salt and the subtle sweetness of the heather that grows along the cliffside, trembling in the breeze. I’ve been staring at the horizon for almost an hour, watching the darkness fade into that bluish glow that only exists in these few minutes before sunrise, when the world is in-between. Like the sky holds its breath for just a moment.
Like I held my breath when I was an ocean away, unpacking my old life into my new flat, barely paying attention to Ludo Bagman’s tinny commentary in the background. I didn’t even know why I had turned on the match in the first place. I should have stayed away, taken advantage of the physical distance, but there was comfort in the familiarity of it. In hearing his name chanted by thousands of voices. I missed him and I hated him a little for it. And then I heard the screams. 
I thought I had lost him before, but this was so much worse.
***
The room is bright, made of sun-drenched walls and filled with flowers and too many people. But I barely notice. James isn’t moving. There is a tangle of tubes, pumping healing potion from the IV bags into his system, mending his broken bones and his cuts and gashes as much as it can. But even magic can only do so much. 
Ginny sees me first. I’m lingering in the doorway like an intruder, not sure if I have a right to be here. I couldn’t not come. I don’t know what to say, though. My throat closes off when our gaze meets over the hospital bed. She’s clutching James’s hand in both of hers like she’s holding on for dear life, her eyes brimming with tears, and I’m crying too, biting my bottom lip to keep myself from sobbing.
“Seth!” Lily calls out, making both Harry and Al look up, but I still don’t know if I’m welcome. Not until Ginny lets go of her son and extends her hand towards me, the faintest of smiles curving her mouth as she summons me to his bedside.
I want to touch him, to feel that he is still here, warm and real and alive, but I don’t dare. There are too many IV lines and bandages and I’m afraid I might hurt him. “How - how is he?”
It’s a useless question, I know it, but there’s still the naive hope that the answer might have changed. That he’ll open his eyes and give me that infuriating half-smile, calling me Woodley and telling me that everything will be alright.
“I’m sorry,” someone says behind me and I turn around to look at the healer that has come into the room. “Only family is allowed in here.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” 
I make to get up, wiping away the tears with shaky fingers, but Ginny’s hand circles my wrist, her bloodshot gaze firmly on the woman in the lime green coat. “She is.”
***
I wanted to buy him some magazines, but half of the stock in the small St. Mungo’s kiosk is about brooms and Quidditch and the other half are gaudy newspapers that still seem to be in a competition over who can print the most disturbing pictures of James plummeting through the air. I was ready to give up and settle on the Kneazle Lover’s Digest when I saw the flashy book pyramid by the checkout. 
“I got you something.” I’m barely in the room when I hold up the shiny hardback with the gaudy cover and James raises an eyebrow at the shirtless guy that takes up most of the front.
“Holy Morgan, what is that, Woodley?” He lets his head fall to the side, smiling at me, even though he is too weak to move. Bruises and scratches still paint brutal patterns across his skin, covering his face and neck, his shoulders, his ribs, but they’re healing. 
Unlike his legs. 
“They had it in the hospital bookshop!” I can barely contain my excitement as I sit down in the chair next to his bed, thumbing through the pages, because this feels like a sign. A very dumb sign, but a sign nonetheless, and I’ll take anything I can get. “No way!” I press the open page against my mouth, my eyebrows arching at James over the edge of the book.
“What?” He’s frowning, amusement still tugging on the corners of his mouth. 
“It’s set in the 1800s.” 
He groans, though the grin on his face definitely dampens the effort. Rain is lashing against the windows, drowning out the steady drip of the IVs and, for a moment, it feels like it used to. Like Sunday mornings at his and Freddie’s flat, when he would refuse to get up and pull me back into bed with him.
“I’m so excited.”
“I bet.” He’s laughing, properly now, and my heart flutters behind my chest. It should know better. Especially because I saw her name flash across his phone screen last night before I left. “How long is that damn thing?”
I flip to the very back of the book, catching a few of the final words even though I try to not read them. “397 pages.”
***
“How many pages?”
He used to ask how many chapters. Then it turned to pages. Because he knows it too - that we only exist like the words on paper, between the pages. Until we reach the last one. The last sentence. 
“191.”
When the story ends, so do we. But ours is a tragedy. Maybe it was always meant to be.
I come back every day. I sit next to his bed and read A Witch’s Guide to Rakes and Romance, blushing fiercely at the spicy scenes but reading it all. James covers Lily’s ears when she’s cuddled up next to him and she complains loudly while Al and Freddie laugh and Harry and Ginny exchange soft, tired smiles.
Sometimes, the room is crowded. Sometimes, it’s just us - James and me and the steady whirring of the machines - and I read to him until he falls asleep. I read to him until twilight creeps into the room and we have to turn on the neon hospital lights. 
I read to him until he can feel his legs again. 
Until the IV lines become less.
Until he can sit up by himself.
“How many?” He says and I don’t look at him.
“16.”
It’s the last chapter. And, though I know that it’s time to go, that this semi-real version of us has an expiration date, I dread every page I turn.
“What if you stayed?” James says, quietly, and I feel like I might choke. I can barely breathe.
What if I stayed?
“I - I can’t.” My fingers are clenching the book in my lap, digging into the cover for something to hold on to. This feels awful, like a second break-up, and I wish I could just fold myself into his arms. 
But I can’t and he doesn’t argue. Because he knows me too well.
His lips are pressed together as he nods, a tear sliding down the side of his face into his pillow and I’m crying too. When he reaches out, I take his hand and weave my fingers through his, careful to not dislodge the catheter in the back of his hand.
“Do you want to hear the ending now?” I ask, wiping the tears from my cheeks, and his gaze slides from my face to the book in my lap, to our intertwined fingers.
“No.” I feel his hold on me loosen, his hand slipping out of my grasp a little. “I don’t want to know how it ends.”
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Text
Darkness At The Heart Of My Love
Pairings: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia X GN!Reader
Type: Fluff that turns to angst w/ no comfort
Summary: Copia had just begun his reign as Papa, and was overworked. He needed to get away from the ministry and all of it. He found someone along the way. Someone who showed him love and happiness. It was perfect, until things changed, and then things descended into chaos.
Warnings: Mentions of character death, heartbreak, use of Y/N, google translated Italian
Word Count: 3,619
Notes: I’m debating on whether I want to make this into a short series. I already have the second part written, but I don’t know how I feel about the plot I previously had for the third part. I originally did this as a self insert, so if there are pronouns that don't correlate with a gender neutral reader, please let me know I will fix it asap. Also I'm sorry for the way the song lyrics copied over, you're just gonna have to deal with it (unfortunately).
Read on AO3
~
When the summer dies
Severing the ties
I'm with you always, always
Will you walk the line?
My path serpentine
Remember always
That love is all you need
Tell me who you wanna be
And I will set you free
There's a darkness at the heart of my love
That runs cold, runs deep
The darkness at the heart of my love
For you
It was a September afternoon. The leaves were just starting to change and the air had just started to relieve itself of its hellish temperatures. Summer finally started saying its goodbye.
The Clergy had been on Copia’s back recently due to his most recent accomplishment of being in talks to become the new Papa. He knew that they just wanted everything perfect, but he was struggling to believe he could live up to their practically impossible standards. It had been an impossibly long day, and he knew that he needed a break before he snapped, inflicting the wrath of Sister Imperator.
He drove around, just trying to clear his head until he found a café. A small little thing that looked very simple. He didn’t bother to check the name or the reviews before walking inside.
“Good afternoon! How can I help you today?” A chipper voice called out to him. His head snapped up from his phone as he set his eyes on them.
“Oh, hello. I-I’m good. How are you today?” He responded, his cheeks reddening slightly as he stumbled over his words.
“Well, it would be better if it were time to go home, but honestly I can’t complain too much,” the cashier responded. “What can I get for you today?”
Copia looked over the menu for just a moment. “Could I just get a black coffee and a blueberry scone?”
“Sure thing!” They smiled as they told him the total and grabbed his scone. They handed him the bag, and his hand lingered for a moment. He held his breath once he realized what he was doing, and grabbed the bag.
“Grazie,” he mumbled as he walked over to the other end of the counter to wait on his coffee. He watched as they poured the coffee, entranced by their every move.
“Here’s your coffee, sir,” they called as if he wasn’t jumping at the chance to talk to them again.
“Thank you,” he said, taking it and finding a seat. He was the only person actually sitting down, everyone else who came in got their orders and left. Copia knew that wouldn’t do for him. If he left, he didn’t know what would have happened.
He sat for a while, eating his scone and sipping his coffee. It was peaceful in the little café. Soft music played over the speakers, and the scent of freshly baked treats filled the air. It was nice.
“I’m heading out now! I’ll see you guys later!” He heard them call, apron off and bag in their hand. He watched them walk towards the door, and jumped up, not really knowing what he was doing.
“Excuse me, but I was just wondering if you-if you had any plans today. It’s been a long day, and you seem like you would be nice to talk to. Only, if you want to of course! I just thought you were gorgeous-I mean you seemed nice. Not that you aren’t gorgeous of course! I’m sorry, I don’t really talk to people outside of my work,” he rushed his words. He was slightly shaking, scared of what they would say.
“I don’t have any plans,” they smiled. “There’s a park right down the road, I could take you if you wanted.”
A look of relief washed over his tired face. “Really? I-well, I would like that actually.”
“My name is Y/N,” they said, holding out their arm.
He looped his arm in theirs, internally smacking himself for not asking their name earlier. “Copia.”
“Well, Copia, it’s nice to meet you.” They squeezed his arm lightly as they left the café. He smiled and looked at the ground.
The park wasn’t far at all, just about a ten minute walk. It was pretty, especially now that the leaves were changing their colors, shedding their summertime glow. There was a winding path that had trees scattered along with a few bushes surrounding them. The flowers on the ground were already wilting, but the scene was still beautiful nonetheless.
“So, Copia, what brought you to my little café?” They asked, their head tilting as they continued to walk arm in arm. Copia found it refreshing to not have his title used to address him for once. It seemed to be all he heard now.
“Well, work has been getting to me. Sis-My boss likes everything to be perfect. It’s just the way that the company is run. I’m beginning to take on a new…new mantle, and in order to properly take it on, I have to be perfect. It is a lot of stress for one man.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure it is stressful. May I ask where you work? I might be able to help, or at least provide some comfort with a little more context.”
He was hoping they wouldn’t ask that question, terrified of scaring them off. “Well, it’s a, uh, ministry of sorts.”
“Oh, so you’re going to become a priest. I guess that could be difficult. Not living a life of sin and being perfect for God and all of his followers.”
“Well, not exactly,” he admitted to them. “Are you religious?”
“I’m not entirely religious. I’m sure there’s a source of something out there, but if it is, I haven’t found it. I don’t judge religions though.”
“Well, that’s comforting,” he sighed. They gave him an odd look. “Our ministry isn’t exactly…Christian.”
“Now I'm a little bit confused.”
He laughed lightly at their response. “It’s a Satanic church. We preach about the word of Satan, and it’s a fun little gig we have going. We use a band to spread the word. Maybe you have heard of it?”
“That's interesting. What is your band called? I’m not sure whether I would have heard of it or not.”
“It’s called Ghost, we are pretty popular,” he teased. He wouldn’t be sure whether they’d heard of it or not, and was surprised by their reaction to saying he was with a satanic church.
“No, I don’t think I have heard of it actually.”
“Well, what kind of music do you like? I can help be a good judge of whether it would provide entertainment. It’s, eh, not really your basic music.”
“I’ll listen to almost anything, honestly. I’m always down for a good tune.”
Copia was taken aback by this a bit, a pleasantly shocked look on his face. “Well, it’s a rock band. A pretty good one if I do say so myself.”
“Maybe I’ll give it a listen later.” 
They continued to walk for a minute in silence before Copia piped up. “So, what do you do for fun?”
“I don’t really know. I like to read, watch TV, listen to music, and all the basic things.”
“What about video games? Any of that interest you?”
“Not really. I never got into gaming.”
“Interesting.”
“What about you, Copia?”
“I play a game or two here and there, but with the Ministry, I don’t get much time to myself.”
“Oh, I’m sorry that sucks. You can always call me up, if you want some company. I don’t really do much other than work. Here,” they said, sticking their phone out to him, “put your number in, and then you can text me whenever you get too stressed and need an outside source for comfort.” Copia took the phone, put his number in, and sent himself a message to make sure he didn’t put it in wrong, then they continued on their first walk of many.
And that is what they did for months.
They texted back and forth often, called, and even went on quite a few dates. Copia had yet another long day, and knew that he could trust the person he now proudly called his partner. He called, asking if he could spend the night at their apartment, and of course they said yes.
Copia made his way to their apartment, using his key to get inside. “Dolcezza? I’m here, amore.”
“I’m in the bathroom! Just got out of the shower!” They called, and he walked that way. He still had on his paints, which still shocked them sometimes, but they were beginning to grow used to it. “Well don’t you look handsome?” They teased, noting that he was in a hoodie and sweatpants.
“What? Oh, heh, yeah I guess I am a beauty. But you, amore mio, look stunning.” He grabbed their hips, pulling them into a kiss. They had on a plain black t-shirt and a pair of black shorts to match. Their hair was wet, and before the kiss they were drying it with a towel. As they kissed, they dropped the towel in favor of wrapping their arms around his shoulders while his arms crossed around their back to pull them in.
“Well, someone missed me,” they said as they pulled away, leaving their arms around him.
“I always miss you,” he said, pressing a lighter kiss to their forehead.
“You’re so sweet, Copia,” they hummed, staring up into his mismatched eyes, nothing else but adoration showing.
“I love you, tesoro.”
“I love you too. What brings you tonight? Anything special?”
“No, just a long day. Needed a way to relax,” he hummed, looking at them.
“What do you want to do?” They asked, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek.
“What do you say I treat you to a dance?”
“What do yo-” before they finished, Copia removed them from where they leaned on the counter, dancing with them out to the living room. They laughed as he spun the both of them around, one hand holding theirs while the other rested on their waist, kissing them while he dipped them.
They were absolutely in love, and that was easy to see. They had only been to the Abbey a few times, but any sibling of sin, ghoul, or anyone who crossed their paths could see the love on their faces.
Soon, the rings on their left ring fingers became evidence enough. Copia, being the romantic he was, proposed to them about a year and a half later.
The air was warm, spring just beginning to settle in, as they walked through the park they first walked at. They walked there often now, finding comfort in the atmosphere. Little did Y/N know that Copia had a surprise waiting for them. It wasn’t uncommon for them to go on picnics, especially not if they were sunrise or sunset picnics.
They walked the winding trail, arms linked together, as Copia nervously led them to their destination. In the other hand, Y/N held a picnic basket that had all of their favorite things, as Copia’s hand nervously fiddled with the small box containing the second most precious gem. The first being his beloved.
The sky was a gorgeous pale blue, the clouds outlined with pink and orange as the sun began to sink past the horizon. Their normal picnic spot had been set up to look very different.
Copia had to pull a few strings, but the trees were decorated with lights, and all of their favorite flowers formed to make a walkway that led to a small platform that was covered in more flowers.
He walked them towards the destination while one sibling of sin hid in the bushes to capture it on video and get the most perfect photos.
Y/N was in absolute awe. It looked like something out of a movie. “Is that for me, Copia?” They asked innocently, unsure of whether this was just for them or someone else.
“Yes, carissima. This is all for you.” He walked up to the platform, letting them take the first step. He steps up next, bending down on one knee. “I knew from the moment I laid my eyes on you that I wanted to be the one you loved. I have cherished every moment, every laugh, even the fights, all because I got to spend that time with you. You are the love and the light of my life. I love you beyond words, Y/N. So please, will you marry me?”
Crying, Y/N lowers themself to be level with him. “Yes,” they cry, holding his face in their hands and kissing him. “A thousand times, yes.”
Copia’s face lights up as he takes their left hand off his face, slipping the ring on, then pulling them into the closest hug they will ever feel in their lives.
Will you spill the wine
To summon the divine?
I'm with you always, always
Now paint a pair of eyes
And let's watch as it dries
Remember always, that love is all you need
Tell me who you wanna be
And I will set you free
There's a darkness at the heart of my love
That runs cold, runs deep
The darkness at the heart of my love
So bold, so sweet
The big day was here. The day where Y/N and Copia would pledge their love in front of everyone.
Marrying a Papa was a big deal. Everyone in the Clergy would gather to watch the occasion. The reception, however, was for close friends and family members only.
“Are you ready?” A voice called from behind Y/N . It was their father. He wasn’t entirely on board with the concept of marrying a satanic pope, but once he realized just how wonderful Copia made them feel, he accepted the relationship, and welcomed Copia with open arms.
“I believe so,” they said, using one hand to hold the bouquet of flowers, the other smoothing down their outfit.
“Then I believe it’s time,” he said, taking their arm in his as the doors opened. They looked up to where Copia was standing in awe. He had on a gorgeous suit and his paints were on. Tradition is that they wear full regalia, but he didn’t want to remember this moment as Papa, just as Copia. He finally was able to compromise with just using his paints, so he took what he could get.
They could tell that there were tears in his eyes. He was always the sentimental type. They smiled as tears welled in their eyes as well.
As they reached the altar, their father smiled at them and kissed their cheek before sitting down. Copia reached a hand out to them as they walked up the stairs, handing a bridesmaid the bouquet of flowers.
“Hi, you look gorgeous,” he whispered excitedly.
“You don’t look too bad yourself,” they said, giving him a wink. The officiant began speaking, signaling the ceremony had begun. There was a bottle of wine, two chalices, and their rings on a small table next to the officiant.
A little while into the wedding, both of them poured wine into the other’s chalice, crossing their arms as they sip. It wasn’t the most necessary part of the ceremony, but it was something that they decided to do. A symbol of their joining together.
They slipped their rings on after, officially combined as one.
They walked back down the aisle, arm in arm, smiling like children, so happy that they found their perfect match. Neither of them wanted to get their outfits messed up, so as their chosen guests filed into the reception room, they changed into simpler, yet still formal, outfits.
“I am so happy that I have you now,” Copia said, coming behind Y/N to wrap them in a hug and leaned his head on their shoulders.
“Until death do us part,” Y/N responded in a joking tone.
“Not even death could keep us from each other,” he said, kissing their neck. Y/N turned around, wrapping their arms around his shoulders, kissing him.
“I would never let that happen,” they smiled.
There's a darkness at the heart of my love
That runs cold, runs deep
The darkness at the heart of my love
For you
“Are you excited? It’s your last concert of this tour. I’m so proud of you,” Y/N said, kissing his cheek as they helped fix his robes.
“It has been a blast. I’m sad to see it come to an end, but that just means we can start new journeys now,” he smiled.
“You’re going to do amazing.” They both walked to the side of the stage, waiting for the cue that they were good to go. “Do you hear that? Copia, they love you.” A smile rested on their face, their head leaning on their husband's shoulder.
“No one could love me the way you do, dolcezza. They may love me, and I may entice them, but my eyes are only for you. I am only for you. I will be with you always,” he said, listening to the crowd’s chanting.
“It’s time. I’ll see you after the show, my love.”
“I love you,” Copia said, kissing them lovingly before walking on stage, the crowd screaming their heads off.
Y/N made their way to their designated spot above the crowd. There was always one section where they would stand and watch, no one else to bother them. The crowd was extremely reactive tonight, everyone having the best time. Even the ghouls looked to be having the greatest night of their lives. 
They smiled, singing along to every song. Occasionally, Copia would look up to where they stood, and they waved each time.
He bounced around the stage, everyone enchanted by his every move, but now the concert was coming to an end. He looked so content and happy performing that neither of them wanted this to end.
“Now this song is very special to me. I used to sing this song, worried about the pain another would cause me, or a pain that I would cause another if I let anyone near me, close to my heart. I said no! No relationships!” He paused, looking around the crowd then looking up to them. “Now, I know that I was wrong. I wish I could have figured this out sooner, but when I stepped into that little coffee shop, I’m glad it took all the time that it did. For the past few years, my love, my beautiful, my angel, my partner has been by my side. So now, I sing a new song of love. Love for the one I am so glad to be able to call my partner. For my Y/N.” He pointed at them as the crowd cheered at the mention of their name, causing them to grin and blush. "This is Darkness At The Heart of My Love!” The crowd cheered some more as the opening notes played.
He sang beautifully. His voice was perfect, and his movements bewitching. Everything about this performance proved Copia was a masterpiece. Y/N leaned onto the railing, singing and watching as their lover made his way through the song.
“Remember always that love is all you need. Tell me who you wanna be, and I will set you free,” he sang as the song drew near its end, looking up to Y/N as he did.
There's a darkness at the heart of my love
That runs cold, runs deep
The darkness at the heart of my love
So bold, so sweet
There's a darkness at the heart of my love (my love)
That runs cold (runs cold), runs deep (runs deep)
The darkness at the heart of my love (my love)
So bold (so bold), so sweet (so sweet)
Y/N didn’t notice the security coming behind them, but they recognized similar strange figures standing on either side of the stage, stalking towards Copia.
Panic flooded them as they turned to run to try and save him, though it was a waste of effort. The security guards behind them grabbed them, forcing them to watch the events unfold.
“And all this time you knew that I would put you through the darkness at the heart of my love for you!” Copia sang, unaware of the men behind him while Y/N struggled.
When the summer dies
Severing the ties
I'm with you always, always
The men came behind Copia, grabbing his arms and legs, pulling him away from the microphone. A look of fear filled his face.
Paint a pair of eyes
Let's watch as it dries
I'm with you always, always
“No!” They screamed out, watching him get dragged off stage, struggling in the same way they were. “Copia! Please! No!” People in the few rows below them turned, watching the tears streaming down their face as they continued to scream.
Sister Imperator walked out on stage, beginning to say some words, but Y/N couldn’t make it out. The guards let them go, and they crumpled to the ground, shaking and sobbing, feeling utterly broken. “No,” they cried quieter. The crowd was painfully silent as they watched Sister. “This can’t be happening. No. Please.” A few siblings of sin walked toward them, lifting them off the ground, walking them back to a car.
They took them back to the ministry, and they cried the whole way there. They brought them to bed, changing their clothes and making them comfortable. They listened to their cries, sad looks on their faces.
They said nothing now, laying in the bed them and Copia would never share again. They held his pillow close, crying into it.
He was gone, and they wouldn’t get him back.
69 notes · View notes
padfootagain · 1 year
Text
Something Good (IV)
Chapter 4 : Ex
Here I come with a new chapter for this series! This is just cute, no warnings to be applied.
I hope you like this chapter!
***********
Warnings : none, just fluff
Sum up : Coming out of a divorce and trying to get used to being a single mom, while teaching your classes at University, you thought your life could not get more complicated than it already iss. But when you are asked to take care of the theatre club with the colleague that you really can't get along with, you realize that everything can still get ten times more complicated in your life. And when you start actually liking Professor Barnes, the troubles only grow exponentially...
Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader
Word Count: 2850
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"He's so annoying!"
You planted your fork angrily into the innocent piece of potato in your plate, making your friend laugh.
"Oh, come on. He's not that bad," Jasmine argued, drinking some water.
"Sorry, forgot you fancied him."
She almost choked on her drink.
"I DO N…!"
She looked around, realizing that your colleagues were now staring at your side of the table.
It was lunchtime, or rather… it had been lunchtime about an hour before. You and your friend had been too busy to get a proper break, and were hurrying to finish eating to get back to work. The advantage of being late was that the lunch room was almost entirely empty, filled with researchers and PhD students from other departments you barely knew. You could thus talk all you wished about your new nemesis.
Because if at first you had tried to allow him the benefit of the doubt, you had given up after that last meeting.
Insufferable. Ben was truly insufferable.
"I do not fancy him," your colleague repeated, with the same outraged and angered look, only in a whisper this time.
"Really? I thought you did… What was the description you gave me when I arrived here last year… oh yeah. 'Gorgeous', 'charismatic'..."
She threw a piece of bread at your face, making you both laugh and effectively shushing you.
"I'm serious, Y/N," Jasmine resumed the conversation after taking a bite of her salad. "He's very sweet."
"For now, he has hidden that part of his personality with great talent."
"He just… he's shy. And I think something happened that made him fear change."
"What happened?"
Jasmine looked around for eavesdroppers, making you chuckled at her dramatic gesture. As if she was about to reveal a secret worthy of the MI6…
"No one knows. Some people say that Miles knows what it is, but he’s never told anyone. And you know how much Miles loves both hearing and talking about gossip. So, it must be something… strange."
"Strange? What now? Do you really picture that guy as a psychopathic murderer?" you joked, unable to refrain your laughter.
You were interrupted by a tired 'hello!' spoken behind you. Paul had just walked in, aiming for the coffee machine, unsurprisingly. You both waved at him before resuming your conversation. You were sitting at a table not too far from the sink and the old table on which rested an exhausted microwave, an electric kettle that only worked if you kept your finger pressed on the 'start' button, and the coffee machine. You thus had to speak a little louder to be heard as your colleague was preparing his hot beverage, the coffee machine making a rumbling noise that could be heard from across the corridor.
"Of course, nothing like that," Jasmine replied, rolling her eyes. "He's very sweet. I meant that something must have happened to him that kind of… closed him up. You know?"
"Closed him up? You mean… that shoved a stick up his arse…"
"Y/N! Don't be mean!"
It was your time to roll your eyes.
"Right… so what should I do about Ben then?"
"You should be more patient with him. Try to calm that tornado of yours."
"I'm a tornado now?"
"You do have a tendency to create chaos everywhere you go."
You reflected for a moment on this thought, and had to admit it wasn't entirely false. But then, your life had turned you into this ball of energy that could never calm down. With your demanding job, your daughter to take care of, single-parenting, your asshole of an ex-husband… if you slowed down, even for a moment, you were afraid you would crumble.
But then again, if your colleague was the kind to need time to accept change… maybe you could try to slow down, at least concerning the theatre club. Give him one more chance…
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Ben was pacing. His office was small, and yet he took advantage of every square inch in an attempt to get rid of some of his frustration.
A stick up his arse?!
Really?!
“Not sure I was right to tell you about that…” Paul mumbled, watching his friend moving through the room.
“Oh, no! You were perfectly right to tell me! Because now, this is war.”
“Come on, Ben…”
“No! I really tried to be understanding. I am well aware that I am not perfect, and I could make things easier, and I tried. I really did try. But clearly, she has no intention to make an effort. Can you believe that? A stick up my arse… I’m going to show her. I’m going to show her if I can’t be cool and relaxed as well.”
Hands planted on his hips, he stared at the campus laid beyond his window. Students were here for the beginning of their classes. A new school year had begun, with its back and forth, its teenagers lost in corridors and a stressed level abnormally high for the teachers who needed to get used to teaching again.
A stick up his arse!
He needed to make you pay for this. But how? How could he show you that he was absolutely not the old, grumpy teacher you seemed to think he was?
Suddenly, a smile grew on his features, both bright and a little… dangerous.
“I know what I’m going to do!”
He turned to Paul in a twirl.
“I am going to find the perfect musical, one that all the students will want to perform. Then my play will be chosen and she will have to work on something I have decided for the whole year.”
“Alright… and what play is going to bring you your sweet but outrageously undeserved vengeance?”
“Oh yes, it’s going to be sweet, alright…”
“That was not the information you were meant to retain from my statement.”
“I need to find a play. I need to find a musical that’s cool… What kind of musicals are cool?”
Paul remained silent for a moment, arms crossed, thinking hard.
“Hamilton!”
Ben nodded with a bright smile.
“Excellent choice! I love that one too, it would be brilliant!”
“You’re welcome. I am unbelievably smart indeed, thank you, I am well aware of that.”
“Thank you, Paul,” Ben bowed down dramatically, making both of them laugh.
Paul had to leave for a class shortly after. Ben prepared himself a warm cup of tea before sitting down behind his desk, ready to go back to work. He still had to go through the lesson he was giving the next day to some of the first-year students, and then go through several articles, fill up a form to get access to some rare documents of the local archives, and he also had to check for a trip to London to the British Library to work on original manuscripts in the coming months…
He heaved a sigh: so many things to do. He picked up a blank sheet of paper and wrote down his to-do list, pushing up his glasses as they began slipping down his nose. He stared at the list for a moment, checking if he had forgotten anything else…
Oh, but he needed to find another musical! He remembered then that you had agreed on three plays to propose for a vote to your students. One you could choose individually, and one you would settle on together. He needed to come up with one more option…
He thought about it for a few minutes, but his brain was already set on this lesson he had to prepare, and he gave up quickly. He couldn’t focus on this now. Besides, he reckoned that his impressive collection of films at home would help him find inspiration. For now, he merely added another line at the bottom of his to-do list, set the paper next to his computer screen, and went back to work.
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Ex-husband. Ex. That was still a term you had to wrap your mind around.
Ex.
It was a strange feeling, really. Saying goodbye to the person you believed would spend the rest of his life with you. And all of a sudden, by the gain of this little particle before his designation, all your plans for the next 60 years had to be re-written.
Ex. That's what these two little letters meant. A whole life planned out and vanishing.
It was outstanding, really, what two tiny letters could carry within their shapes. It wasn't just a new way to define a person, that was only what a dictionary would have offered as a definition. But you knew better, you taught English Literature after all. You tried to teach that to your students. Words mean more than what the dictionary reveals.
Inside these two letters were the months spent fighting with him. The weeks you didn't sleep. The rage within your ribcage. The loss. The grief. The doubts. The loneliness of coming home to an empty house when you had believed you would never have to do that again. Thinking of ways to tell your daughter until you got headaches. The lawyers. A pen. Signing your name, the same signature as the one you had used when you got married, this time to break a vow instead of building one. It was staring at your wedding ring for weeks without being able to take it off; and then finally slipping it off your finger while crying and hiding it away in a drawer. It was removing his pictures in your house. It was finding a new place because your home felt too empty without him. It was staring at his name for hours on your phone screen in the dark of your bedroom without dialling the number. It was waking up alone. It was sharing custody of your daughter. It was grief. And then… then it was fear. Fear that maybe there was something wrong with you, and that it was the reason why it didn't work out in the first place.
That was where you were at after a year of separation. It was tough, you weren't going to deny it. It was hell, even. But you still got out of bed every morning, so you reckoned you weren't doing so bad.
The flat felt empty and too silent without your daughter around. It was the weekend, and she was with your husband.
No, ex-husband. Ex.
The infamous two little letters.
You were alone in your apartment, just scrolling on your phone at random while something was on TV, but you didn't even know what it was. A movie of some kind. Despite the noise coming from the screen, there were no giggles from your daughter, you couldn't hear her play or draw, rummaging through all her little pencils. Instead, you were stuck with the TV screen. It felt lonely.
That was the hardest part: you were lonely.
You hadn't felt that way since you started dating your ex. Even when the two of you were apart because of a business trip, the only knowledge that he was missing you filled the hole in your chest. But there was nothing now to ease the feeling.
Sometimes, like today, you even missed him. Even wished the two of you were fighting, at least then you wouldn't be on your own. It was stupid and you knew it, but what else could you do against a pain like that?
Your friends encouraged you to go out more, now that you were single again, and some of your evenings were free when your daughter was with her father. But it wasn't the point, and your friends didn't get it. Even when you were with them, you were lonely. It wasn't about seeing friends, it was about being alone. You weren't sure how to explain it, weren’t sure how to find the right words. Ironic for someone who spent her life studying the words of others…
You stood up in a jolt and moved to your bedroom to open a drawer. The strength of your movement disrupted some of your clothes, although your drawer was more of a messy agglomeration of fabric than anything else. Folding took too long, after all. You rummaged through the socks, t-shirts and jeans until you found that little velvet box you had been looking for. Two rings inside, for when Steve proposed and when he married you. You were crying before you could even notice.
You almost wished it wasn't over. Almost. You had to leave him though.
But you were alone now, and what if you couldn't love anyone else?
Or worse, what if no one else could love you?
No, you couldn’t let yourself think this way. You were not perfect by any means, but your husband was also to blame for the end of your marriage. Actually, it was mostly his fault. You had made a bargain, and he didn’t respect his part of the agreement.
You threw the box back into your drawer, burying it deep under your clothes, and stormed out of the room.
You needed something to do. And this bloody TV was completely uninteresting.
What to do? What to do…? Watch a movie! That would take your mind off of your self-pity. Alright, a movie… what movie…
You scanned the shelf upon which you kept your DVDs. You could have checked Netflix, but didn’t feel like it. You wanted a safe option, something you were certain to enjoy. So your own DVDs it was…
Your finger ran across the boxes until you found the perfect one. A movie that would make you cry but in the best way.
You got yourself some popcorn before settling with a warm blanket on your sofa, as the first notes of Moulin Rouge! played.
Ewan McGregor’s sweet voice… it was just what you needed.
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Ben had spent a lovely day. A nice run early in this Sunday morning while the sun was still shy and delicate. He had spent quite a while on the phone with his parents, and then with his brother. Then he had met up with a couple of friends for a late lunch, and after a walk across the city he had ended his day by a couple of hours reading. Dinner while listening to the news on the radio, and finally, he was about to settle for a nice movie night. Just what he needed to be full of energy to start a brand-new week the next day.
He had poured himself a glass of red wine and was about to settle in front of some Netflix show he had been binge-watching that week, when he suddenly caught a glimpse of a small piece of paper set on his coffee table.
He heaved a sigh as he picked it up, already knowing what it said, but reading the last line anyway.
On the to-do list, all the tasks had been crossed out, except for one. The last line.
Find another musical - theatre club
He bit his lip, hesitated, but decided he had to complete this one last task. He would keep on thinking about it while watching his show if he didn’t, and he couldn’t have that. It would ruin his evening.
So, instead of settling under a warm blanket, he turned on his heels and walked to the bookshelves on which he kept his DVD collection. A collection he had curated for years. He was almost as proud of it as he was of his book collection. And that was saying a lot…
He narrowed his eyes a little, having left his glasses on his coffee table, and scanned the titles of the movies in search for inspiration. He did have a respectable choice of musicals, as he enjoyed the genre very much. The perfect mix of storytelling and music… how could he not like that?
He scanned the titles, letting his finger run across the boxes to guide his eyes.
Hair? No. Awesome music, but he didn’t feel like doing something so political.
Les Mis? No, too long, and too depressing.
The Sound of Music was your choice already.
My fair lady? Too much of a classic, and he needed something cooler to contradict your impression of him.
West Side Story? You had used your veto for this one.
His finger stopped on the next one. He took a sip of alcohol, staring at the title for a moment, before picking it up from the shelf.
He turned off Netflix to watch his DVD instead.
Settling on his couch as the first notes echoed through his apartment, Ben smiled, knowing that he had made the right choice.
The world of prostitution and parties in the Paris of the end of the 19th century, with a passionate and yet tragic love story, and a set of amazing songs… you would see if he had a ‘stick up his arse…’.
Yes, Moulin Rouge! was the perfect choice.
Ha… and Ewan McGregor’s sweet voice! Yes, as Ben took another sip of his red wine, he reckoned that this was a perfect evening indeed.
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kaveuh · 2 years
Note
HI HI PEACE PEACE :DD IDK if request are still open but ive been obsessed with how you write, the potrayal on how you write the characters always makes me giggle and i wanted to know if you could write a Midori scenario where hes just gushy about readers plushy collection!!! Him just coohing at it and literally explodes when reader gives one away for him to cherish, mf is there like 'GOD GOD CAN I REALLY?+?#**@*'*@' .I am slowly gathering so many and i needed to fill my brain with more midori content brrr. this turn into a ramble oops
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"PLUSHIE BUDDIES!" midori t. x gn!reader
genre — fluff
a/n — AWE THANK YOU SO MUCH! also first full midori request… i hope i dont butcher him too much LMAOO also i'm really sorry on how long this took AHH that’s mostly on me because i procrastinate, like alot…
warning(s) / notes — slightly ooc midori
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at first, midori wasn't sure about coming over for the first time. he was nervous. he isn't good with people, let alone, coming over to their house with even more people in it— which are your parents, or siblings, if you have any. either way, he's unsure and is constantly overthinking any possible scenarios that may occur.
after multiple convincing from you, and maybe morisawa (after he overheard you inviting him to come over), midori finally gave in. "i’ll come over after school, i guess…" he sighs, knowing that he can't win against you, or morisawa.
truth is, he also wanted to spend time with you alone. yet, he can't help but still feel nervous. it doesn't help knowing that your parents might be home. what if they don't like him? what if he makes a bad impression and they tell you to break up with him?
"midori—?" your boyfriend snapped out of his thoughts the moment your finger poked his arm. he turned his tired gaze towards you and softly (barely) smiled. "we're here. my parents shouldn't be home until six, so don't worry about it too much, yeah?"
'thank. fucking. god.' he thought. "a-ah.. alright. thanks for inviting me, [name]." you could only smile at his response, gesturing him to come inside once you unlocked the door and stepped inside. "should i leave my shoes here?" midori asked quietly, putting his shoes on the empty space of the shoe rack as you responded with a simple hum.
"you can go in my room, it's the first door down that hall. i'll prepare us some snacks before we study~!" you happily hopped your way to the kitchen, starting to prepare the snacks that you’ve been longing to share with your boyfriend.
oh, the moment midori enters your room, his eyes WIDENED. he's getting excited and felt happiness rush through his veins. 'is this… heaven?' he gushed, walking towards your shelf full of your plushies that couldn’t fit in your bed. "i never knew [name] collected these…" he muttered, still admiring the shelf as he sat down on your bed.
"hm? midori, you like plushies too?" your boyfriend shrieked, a blush creeping up his face. you could only chuckle at his reaction, putting down the tray of snacks on the coffee table in the middle of your room.
"a-ah.. well, uh.." he stammered, avoiding your gaze. this is embarassing… "maybe…" he sighed, shoulders dropping. you let out a small giggle, which made the blush displayed all over his face worsened. "don’t tease me about it too much, please."
you shook your head, grabbing the biggest plushy you had within your collection. "here!" casually, you handed him the soft squishmallow, his eyes widening in surprise. "keep it. consider it… as a welcome gift for coming over~"
midori explodes in happiness as he gently took the plushy from your hands. "really? i can really have this?"
it was adorable, really. you could instantly tell how happy midori had gotten just by giving him the squishmallow. you nod your head. to your surprise, midori flashes you the brightest smile that you had ever seen him make— throwing himself onto you as he grabbed your face with both his hands.
"thank you, [name]! i’ll cherish it forever!"
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136 notes · View notes
chiaki-c · 1 hour
Text
tagged 1000 years ago by @defeateddetectives thank you sm!!!!
do you make your bed? never
what’s your favourite number? i often use the number 30 in internet handles and such so lets go with that
what is your job? currently looking for one that might make me want to kms only half the time
if you could go back to school would you? also considering this buuuut so far im verging on a hard no
can you parallel park? i can barely drive dont ask me to park too!!!!
a job you had that would surprise people? nothing weird sorry :(
do you think aliens are real? sure
can you drive a manual car? as opposed to? (jk but yea manual's the standard here)
what’s your guilty pleasure? soooo many at any given time i am obsessed with media i am way too ashamd to evn speak aloud. still very much working on the whole feeling shame and guilt about existing thing :')
tattoos? none but i want to at some point
favourite colour? red, blue and black mostly with a special mention to orange
favourite type of music? for a few years now ive mostly listened to bands and artists from the indie italian scene (altho indie should probably go between a few quotation marks i guesssss)
do you like puzzles? not really
any phobias? SPIDERS :(
favourite childhood sport? mmh i remmeber trying tennis in school when i was very little and liking it but other than that i hated all sports
do you talk to yourself? who doesn'tttt come on!!
what movie(s) do you adore? for comfort movies i'm seconding pride & prejudice (2005) and the digimon movie!! i also always love to revisit ritchie's sherlock holmes(es) and master and commander. oh and xavier dolan's "matthias and maxime" <3. movies i adore that aren't comfort i wanna say portrait of a lady on fire, moonlight, and then we danced just to name a fewww
coffee or tea? i enjoy both!!
first thing you wanted to be growing up? i think a veterinarian
very low pressure tagging some recent mutuals? take it as a generic friendly poking, no need to do it at all <3
@inarcadiac @hesbianspock @zaegreus @thefffuckening @saintirulan @nigesakis +anyone who wants to i guess!!
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angel-kyo · 2 months
Text
Pay it no mind
Part XVI (kinda? Idk. Explanation in the note.)
In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).
Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself. I would say reader is ooc in this one, or it might feel like that. I don't know. There are also mentions of a difficult family situation (awful father, deceased mother, etc.)... Oh, and this almost makes me look anti-Gojo (I'm not, though).
Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part IV, Part XV
----------------------
“Aomori?” you repeated in disbelief. Isn’t that like…?”
Haruki leaned forward on his elbows on the table and placed his head in his hands in frustration. You watched his fingers bury themselves in his brown curls and tug them.
“It’s about a ten-hour bus ride or four hours in the train...” he said without looking at you. His eyes were on the table, and you could only see the top of his head. “That if I’m lucky… Which I am not, obviously,” he grumbled and lifted his head to look at you.
You two were at the coffee shop where he worked, or rather, used to work. He had submitted his resignation the day before.
“That’s far.” You were not sure of what else to say. The notice of his departure was coming in too sudden. Only a few days ago you had been talking about maybe meeting up on New Year’s Eve, and now he was leaving? “For… For how long?”
Ikeda looked outside and shrugged. “He’s transferring me there so I guess he means at least until the end of high school, and then…” he frowned. In fact, he was not sure of what would happen after that. “I’m sure that jerk will come up with something else.”
Haruki looked back at you and, realizing what he had said, quickly apologized for speaking like that in front of you.
“I’m sorry. I just can’t believe he did this behind my back. I knew he could not stand seeing me, but I never thought he would plan something like this and ambush me any other Tuesday.”
He sighed, and you looked at him with sympathy. It was the most distressed you had ever seen him, and the most upset too.
Haruki, who always looked happy and unbothered when he was with you, had only ever appeared uncomfortable, and sometimes even angered, when he spoke about his father. At first, you had believed they just did not get along, but it was more than that; Haruki had told you once that his father seemed to resent him since his mother left.
“I’ve never blamed her,” he told you one day while you waited for his train, “she was sick and he was never at home, but when he was, he was horrible to her.”
He had then showed you her picture. A beautiful woman with long brown hair and bright eyes a few shades clearer than her locks, smiling and hugging an eight-year-old Haruki; he had definitely gotten the looks from her, and it was evident she had loved him dearly.
Due to her illness, Haruki’s mother had passed away just a couple years after leaving her husband, before she was able to fulfill her promise to his son to come back for him. Hence, Haruki had ended up stuck with a resentful father who was almost never at home, but when he was, he was as horrible to his son as he had been to the mother he resembled. And now, he was sending him to live with his uncle in a distant prefecture to attend a new school.
He had given Haruki little less than a week to, and the boy quoted, “wrap up any business in Tokyo.”
Apparently, that included you, who did your best to comfort him, even if there was not much you could say or do.
“I will miss you,” Ikeda said after you assured him it would be alright and that two or three years would sure fly by, and then he would not need to listen to what his father or his uncle said. It seemed his mood had improved a little at that.
“I will miss you too,” you told him, still wrapping your head around the idea of not seeing him anymore.
If only you could see curses, maybe there would be another way out for you, maybe we could have more time.
You pushed that thought away. That was selfish thinking, was it not? Of course, you would not want Haruki to live in gore and pain as a sorcerer. There had to be better, more peaceful options for him somewhere.
“I like you a lot.” His words pulled you out of your head, and when your eyes focused on him, you noticed his face was flushed, but he was looking right at you. “I think I could have loved you. Not that I don’t now,” he smiled softly, “but in the way I wanted to love you.”
There was a tinge of sadness in his voice, but your heart was beating faster as he spoke. Did that mean you wanted to love him too?
“I…” you started, but he shook his head and smiled.
“It’s fine. I thought we had more time, so I did not tell you sooner, but now, I just realized I wanted to let you know in person.”
Haruki had not planned to confess that day. He was only going to tell you he was leaving and ask you to stay in touch but realizing that it might be the last time he was going to see you in, perhaps, a long time, he felt he needed to tell you. He had wanted to tell you since the first time you had accepted going out with him that summer, but he then thought it was better not to rush and just let your friendship take its course.
At the end of the day, people should honor their feelings.
That he believed whole-heartedly. That is why Gojo’s attitude had annoyed him, acting as a jealous boyfriend around you if he was nearby but still claiming to be just your friend. If he wanted more, he should admit it instead of doing whatever he thought he was doing that day he accompanied him to the station.
“Haruki, I like you too,” you said sincerely.
But do you like me as I like you? the boy wondered.
He would not ask you that as he would not ask for more at this point. What could he ask, that you waited for him? He was not that arrogant to believe you had to do it nor that idealistic to make promises he knew time could swallow. Knowing that you had cared about him was enough.
He gave you a closed-eye smile. “I’m so glad.”
***
But saying it had not changed anything. You and Haruki had agreed to staying in touch and he had hugged you tightly before letting you go.
Maybe he knew we would drift apart.
You had kept texting and calling each other after that. Once he was with his uncle, he had given you his address, so you could exchange letters; he even sent you a few postcards with some pretty views around his new city. For a little while, you thought you could remain friends and just live on it, but his absence became increasingly painful, and when you both got busy with school again, and he was barely replying to your messages and his letters felt distant, the realization that maybe you had truly loved and lost was devastating.
It happened slowly but not painlessly. There was just never a good time for a quick call anymore, the messages were fewer and shorter, and you probably did not reply to the last one because there was nothing to say, and finally, the letters. Oh, the letters... Once funny and vibrant as your friend had been, they became nothing but curt and disappointing. It was hard to believe that two people who once had so much to talk about could barely bring themselves to write more than a few lines for each other.
I guess people can enter your life seamlessly, but they can hardly leave like that.
Your friends comforted you to their best, and Satoru made it his mission to ensure you would not feel lonely doing the things you liked anymore. Despite your protests, he attached himself to your hip as he had done it when you were kids, even on the days when you did not want to leave your room.
And when, months after Haruki’s departure, you sat down in front of the training fields, tired of waiting for a letter that would not come, Satoru held your hand firmly as you accepted your loss and stayed by your side unfaltering, the same way you would do for him when Suguru left you all later down the road.
That was how, as the seasons changed, you quietly let go of your friend who had been a child of the spring himself.
----------------------
Note: I almost did not want to include this part? I mean, I felt like the other guy needed some explaining, and as much as I enjoyed it, I would say this is almost a filler, so I'm sorry of it's bad. Anyways, if the next part is not the last one, it will sure bring us quite closer. I've not forgotten where I left Satoru, promise!
Thank you for reading!
Next: Part XVII
@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha @zacatecanaaaa @blushhpeachh @astriarose @missesgojosatoru @ba-ks @sukunasleftkneecap @songbirdlully @cole-silas @heijihattorisgf @chokesonspit @hersheyzzz @smolbeanzzz @luciledreamz @avidreadee123 @moonmalice @ratscandaler @sadmonke @allie-jay @username23345 @spin-garden @ashehateaccount @kayzens @blehtotheblehtothebleh @stellasloth @bloopsstuff
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levmada · 2 years
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omg congrats on the milestone!!! ੈ♡˳ that's so wicked!!! omg i'm so excited to see all the delicious content from this event ✿ could i please request canonverse reiner with the fluffy starter "you can hold my hand, if you want" ♡
thank you!! ive never written reiner before😅 so i really hope i got him right.
content/warnings: fluff overload, post-war (no spoilers), no warnings just flirting and adorableness
wc: ~1.0k
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"You better eat this donut," you tell Reiner, as serious as death. "Your collarbones could still cut me."
You thrust the gooey treat up to his mouth, but Reiner is busy nursing a strawberry smoothie.
He chuckles gruffly between a sip. "It's yours, though. You bought it, remember?"
"Mm." You smile. "Yes. Therefore I decide whose tastebuds it belongs to." Another nudge. "No more self-sacrificing, you bastard."
Reiner pulls off from his straw and laughs, a sound that rumbles in his chest. You missed his laugh.
"Well, I guess when you put it like that..."
Triumph. Every soldier suffered their fair share of traumas during the war, including you, but especially him. There aren't many visible wounds you can treat, but his absurd amount of weight loss is one of them.
He's come a long way of course, but you don't believe in "good enough".
"Thank you," you say kindly, and place it in his free hand. While you're at it, you shuffle up next to him on the rustic park bench so your sides touch. His gruff features light up with surprise, then morph into shy delight.
You match his expression. Back when you both were old enough to be thrilled to be accepted into the Warrior program, but too young to know the truth of what you were getting into, Ms. Braun liked to call you two "young sweethearts".
Afternoons just like this were commonplace, back then. When Reiner was given his Titan, you felt as if a piece of you had vanished during all those years he was gone... but that feeling paled in comparison to that strange four-year period after he returned.
It was so much worse then, because even though he was physically there, in a way, it still felt like he was gone.
You remained in the army for all that time and didn't see fighting like he did, but you like to think you understand, at least a little.
You add on to your last thought: Everyone, period, suffered during the Rumbling.
Reiner takes a bite, and hums in approval. In afternoon light like this, his hazel eyes are tinged with soft green. "God. It's good."
Pride burns in you. "Glad to know nothing's changed about that old bakery, at least."
He agrees with you and shuffles closer until your knees bump. His eyes turn pensive as he clears his throat. "I'm sorry—"
"No more apologies," you remind him, gentle. You try to remedy that look in his eyes with words. "I will never judge you."
He sighs. "You're right. I'm tired of these serious conversations. Maybe they should be outlawed," he nods, "at this bench specifically?"
"The Bench," you sound out, chuckling a little. "Agreed."
You reach around, clutching your coffee in one hand, and pat the backrest like a puppy. "She was always waiting for us to get back. I can tell."
He smirks a little. It's a good look.
It's true, no matter how you deny it, that you missed out on a lot—but only because of everything beyond your control. The war swept Reiner up in it, and you were left in the dust.
"Maybe we should catch up," you muse, shrugging your shoulder with his.
"We've already caught up."
"Are you sure about that?" You arch a brow.
Reiner reconsiders. "Alright. I propose, a five..." He makes a face. "...A nine part series of 365 essays?"
You can barely restrain yourself from gawking. "You are still so innocent, it's adorable. Ever since when we were kids."
It's his turn to be surprised. His brow reaches his forehead. "Oh, really?" he stammers. "Huh."
"I like that idea." A small smile quirks your lips up as a cyclist races by. "But I meant doing things also, in the present. Since we kind of have the rest of our lives now." You tut. "With your diplomat career on the side, of course."
"I would forget the whole definition of diplomacy if we had to split up again," he retorts. He takes another bite of the donut. His tongue darts out to catch the jelly.
You nibble on your lip, a fond feeling swelling inside. "You're sweet."
His cheeks heat. "Ha... C'mon, you're just buttering me up."
Despite all the time that has passed and how many times the world has flipped upside down, your relationship remain much the same, it seems.
"Well..." You nibble on your lip. "Um."
He shoots you an expectant look.
A crazed little laugh leaves you. Words are lost on you suddenly. "Um!"
"And look at you," he muses. He knocks your shoulder suggestively. "Still the boldest woman I know until things get flirty."
You need more sweet tea. "I was going to ask... where do you think is a good place to start?"
A lady crosses the street in the time it takes for Reiner to think. He crosses one leg loosely over the other.
Maybe it's the sun, but that pink across his cheeks hasn't faded.
Your foot bounces a little.
"I have an idea."
"Hit me."
He starts to laugh at the ridiculousness of you two: dancing around each other's feelings like two teenagers. "You can hold my hand, if you want," he suggests... though it sounds like more of a question.
You bite down on your lip so hard it even stings a little. Promptly, you offer your hand, but with him on your right side, he rushes to place his milkshake on the ground, and passes the donut to his other hand.
You giggle brightly at him. "A man on a mission, are you?"
"Something like that," he grunts. His shyness makes him painfully cute.
His hand is more worn that yours, even gnarled by war. The hardened flat of his palm touches yours, and then you link your fingers. It takes a little adjusting, his being a little bigger, and a lot more clumsy.
You can't stop smiling.
Gleaming hazel eyes are on yours when you look at him, prompting him to look away while smirking to himself. You look down at your skirt, sharing the same expression.
You must've held hands a million times, just as kids being kids. It feels much different now. More serious. Exciting.
He rests your joined hands on top of his leg. "Um, you have soft hands." Then he sees the look you're giving him. "I mean it."
"Alright, Rei."
He snorts. "This is nice."
"Mhm." Again, you shrug his shoulder. "Now finish your donut, you big softy."
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Enter the event here!
taglist: @midtwenties-angst | @jayteacups | @chaotic-nick | @b-o-n-e-daddy | + link to sign up
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Fictober '21 Prompt No. 19 — "I feel strange.“
Category: Original WIP: For The Stars Rating: T Timeline: an AU in which both Warren and Thrive are human CW: Mature situations Word Count: 737 Additional Notes: this is way too short lmao
***
PART IV ➳ PART III ➳ PART II ➳ PART I
"Hoo, boy," Warren sighed, running a hand down his face. "I feel strange."
Thrive nodded from his seat at the opposite end of the couch from him. "I've noticed this happens when you've had red wine."
"You think I could be allergic? I haven't even had two glasses."
Swirling his own wine in the stemmed glass held between his long fingers, Thrive shrugged, using a remote in his other hand to flip through the streaming titles on the TV. "It's possible. I'd stop drinking that one to be safe."
Warren perched his glass on the coffee table. "Dinner was great, by the way. Thanks for cooking."
"I'm happy to do it." Thrive switched to a music app and started one of Warren's playlists, getting to his feet. "I'll do the dishes tonight since you're not feeling all that well."
"You sure? I could probably still do 'em…"
"Don't worry about it. There isn't that much to do."
"Only 'cause you clean as you cook." Warren chuckled, tapping his foot to the song. "You fuckin' nerd."
He caught a good-natured eye roll as Thrive entered the kitchen with both glasses.
The song changed and Warren shot off the couch. "Oh, here we go!"
"What's that?"
"I choreographed a whole thing for this," Warren said, already into it, moving as if it were second nature. The up-tempo dance beat kept a wide smile on his face even when Thrive paused his task to watch him with an odd look from the open kitchen. "Didn't you know I danced from middle school to college?"
"…Can't say that I did," Thrive said.
"Yeah, man," Warren cheered, letting the music overcome him. He danced around the coffee table, singing along, and he brought his hyped energy into the kitchen, where the closer he got to Thrive, the higher the corner of Thrive's mouth inched upward. "Nearly threw my hat into the erotic dancing ring to pay for school."
"Hmm." Thrive used one hand to spray the dishes in the sink with water from the detachable nozzle, not taking his eyes away from Warren. "There's an abundance of qualification, in any case."
Warren stopped and quirked an eyebrow. "Well that's an interesting development. Like what you see, Judge?" He spread his arms and swayed his hips. "This doin' it for you?"
Thrive cocked his head. "Would you want it to?"
"Considering I'm half a misfired synapse away from grinding on you, I'd say so, yeah."
"Maybe not into that, per se," Thrive said, turning his full—yet visibly reluctant—attention onto the pans he cooked with, "…but I may want to revisit the erotic dancing topic in a little bit."
"If you want a lap dance, it's fifty bucks."
Thrive laughed. "Don't ask how I know this, but that's a bit steep."
Warren paused between songs and ambled the few feet to him. He snaked a hand around the back of Thrive's neck and leaned in close to his ear. "My guy…this would be the best lap dance of your entire life."
"It would be the only lap dance of my entire life," Thrive muttered, though his voice had subtly tightened.
"And god, would I be honored to give it." Warren's fingers raked through Thrive's hair, rubbing into his scalp with gentle firmness.
Thrive forced out a breath as he attempted to focus on his chore. "Give me ten minutes."
"You have five."
"I can do three."
"Speedrun it, baby," Warren purred. He snickered, starting up a dance for the next song and moving into the hallway that contained their bedrooms.
Warren opened his eyes to complete silence and a pitch-dark room. The playlist had clearly run out ages ago and someone had the forethought to shut off all the lights in the apartment. He shifted and knocked his elbow into a body beside him, earning a grunt for the occasion.
"Oh, fuck, sorry…"
"What's wrong?" Thrive asked groggily into the side of his head.
"Uh…nothing. Whose…whose bed is this?"
"…I don't actually remember. After a certain point, I wasn't exactly paying attention to our surroundings." A few beats passed during which the sound of rustling filled the silence and the mattress shifted. "This is a double. We're in mine."
"That tracks," Warren yawned. "Probably still night. Brain feels like noodles. More sleep."
"No arguments here," Thrive murmured, looping his arms around Warren and lacing their fingers together before they both drifted back to sleep.
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dotster001 · 2 years
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Hii soo id like to get matched up with one of the characters from ikepri(a romantic match btw)
I love to hangout with my friends(especially my bestfriends) and just have fun with them,i also like to bake with my friends. me and my bestfriend have this tradition where we make brownies whenever we’re hanging out at each others house’s. I dont really like cooking or baking alone though. I love shopping for clothes both online and in real shops. Im quite social and can start and hold conversation really well but i need some time for myself as well to recharge my social battery.i struggle with finding people i actually love unconditionally,i think my bestfriend is the only friend ive ever had that makes me feel like i love her no matter what.butt i actually have lots of friends that i do like and hangout with often.I DEFINITELY NEED REASSURANCE often i need to be told and MOST IMPORTANTLY SHOWED that someone cares about me(romantically or platonically). I like to read romance books quite often as well and i like to read all kinda of romance buttt if i had to pick a fav troupe itd be friends to lovers(was really close to choosing enemies to lovers).i love sweet and spicy food and hateee bitter stuff. I try my best to be nice to people since id rather not ruin someones day, and if someone was being a bitch to me id probably just ignore them and not stand up for myself since it usually doesn’t bother me but if someone insulted anyone i care about then i completely forget how to be nice😭i feel like i get along best with people that can have fun and make lots of amazing memories but also can relax and just be calm at times.
Im really sorry if i wrote too much and i cant wait to see who youll match me with 💕💕
(So I almost paired you with Yves cause he's a fashion icon, and loves to bake, but I'm playing his route right now, and he's definitely a (soft) tsundere, so that might not work out for you.)
I match you with Rio Ortiz.
(Rio route when?)
You two become friends when you find him in the rain on that fateful day, and despite having no prior memories, he never let it bother him, because he had you. And from there he fell head over heels for you in such a soft way that you fell not long after him.
He doesn't know anyone, (having lost his memories) but considering how sharp he is, any time you hang out with people, he gets along with them no matter who they are.
He just loves to be around you! You're literally his everything. You'll NEVER have to bake alone ever again. He wants to help, and spend time with you, so it's a fun bonding experience.
That said, he knows you really well, so when you do need time to yourself, he'll make you a cup of tea, (or coffee if you're a coffee person) grab you your favorite romance novel, and then head out on the town for the day. He always comes back with new books, and an outfit for you.
Speaking of, he loves going to shops with you to find clothes. He often asks you to pick an outfit for him as well, because he trusts your sense of fashion implicitly. 
You never have to doubt his love for you, because he tells you every chance he gets. When you wake up, when you have to be apart, when you do things together, when you go to bed. He's very vocal about it.
You felt a soft kiss on your forehead. As you're roused yourself from sleep, and your eyelids flutter open, you see Rio looking at you with so much love and affection in his eyes it was almost overwhelming.
"Good morning, love," he whispered, his smile brighter than the morning sun.
"Good morning," you whispered back.
Rio began stroking your hair out of your face.
"Are you feeling more recharged today?"
"Yes, thank you. I'll never understand how you always know what I need."
Rio grinned. "Oh that's easy. It's because I just love you sooooooo much." He tickled your sides, and you couldn't help but laugh at him.
Rio rose from the bed. "Since you're feeling better today, do you want to check out that new clothing store in the town? There's a coat in there I have my eye on, but I want your opinion."
"Of course, that sounds amazing. Let me just get dressed first."
You rose from the bed, and began to get ready. Rio headed to the door, but paused in the frame.
"Oh! But the way!"
You glanced up at him. "What is it?"
He gave you a soft smile with all the emotion he could muster.
"I love you."
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