#i will be back soon i just have to set a stable routine

[hanibalistic]

#FFF6E8 | KIM SEUNGMIN.

genre | fluff

word count | 2393

warning | none​

the way seungmin's laughter resonated with yours was something you would never forget. you realized, for the first time, that in two years of high school, you had never heard him laugh.

his laughter was hearty; full, loud, a noise that came straight from his stomach, chest, throat, and finally out of his mouth. his shoulders heaved with each genuine hiccup, which made his laugh weird, but you would have never noticed it with the way his voice brightened in between. he has a laugh that sounded as if he was friends with whoever was making the joke. he has a laugh that would have made you fall further in love with him if you heard it when you were younger.

"i remember you used to come into class super early," you mentioned off-handedly as you pointed at the empty blackboard. you rubbed the tip of your nose when you looked at him standing at the back of the class. "whenever i arrive, your handwriting will already be here, with all our assignments listed out."

seungmin sheepishly smiled. he was compelled to rub the back of his head, ruffling and fixing his hair a little for the sake of making some movements, but he kept his hands warm in his coat pocket and instead paid his attention to you standing by the blackboard.

he remembered arriving to class extra early to prepare the classroom for the day. the routine was still vivid in his head; he almost repeated it when he walked into the classroom because it had been such a stable part of his school days.

as soon as he arrived, he would turn on the lights and wait for those cheap public school funding utilities to flash a few seconds. after the lights, he would head to the windows to open the blinds, and depending on the weather, he would open the windows too. sometimes he would let himself feel the wind for a few seconds before scurrying away to his seat, not because he was in a rush but because he didn't want to be caught having an enjoyable time, especially not by the early birds coming from morning practice. he has a handy, organized notebook to keep track of his school things, and he would use it to write out all the assignments to hand in for the day before setting out the few extra chairs lying around in class to the front as assignment spots so his classmates could turn them in accordingly.

you never understood why he had gone through the trouble, but his way of operating the morning period before school officially started made what was supposed to be a sluggish and unwilling process much more efficient, and you were glad to have him around. the faster the class ticked off the boxes of what needed to be done, the more time there was for students to spend doing what they wanted—chatting with each other, catching up with studying, or in your case, laying your head on your arms and snoozing away!

"honestly, if i didn't live so close to school, i doubt i would have bothered with it," he commented, his face suddenly morphing into a disapproving frown.

you raised a brow. that was interesting to know, even after years of parting ways. "how close did you use to live?"

"just outside," he pointed at the classroom windows, "do you see the apartment buildings? i live in the middle one. it's walking distance from here."

you left the blackboard to move between the desks. the blinds just by the teacher's desk were closed, so you couldn't see outside for anything. subconsciously, you stopped at your desk, and you leaned your torso over to squint down the scenery outside the window. "oh! i see it!"

seungmin smirked to himself as he watched realization hit your furrowed brows. you have mostly stayed the same. looking at things from a distance was still one of your greatest enemies. he always thought you looked cute squinting, though. under the context that you were trying to read something, that was. sometimes, he found himself looking forward to your deskmate pointing something out while you had your glasses taken off. other times, he watched your deskmate with envy that they could so leisurely talk to you.

"what are you laughing about?"

seungmin snapped out of his trance and looked at you, a sudden hint of unease flooding into his head even though there was nothing for him to hide anymore. he watched as you crossed your arms and leveled him with a playful glare, and he gulped down a nervous knot—maybe he still had something to hide, but it must be the product of the atmosphere rather than what his heart believed.

"oh, it's just–uhm," he cleared his throat, shying away a little, "i notice you still squint when you look at things far away."

your arms uncurled, and your eyes blinked. he wasn't wrong, but it probably wasn't something he needed to observe to know. being as blind as you were, the only way to (barely) see anything without glasses was to squint. you shouldn't think too deeply about it. seungmin probably just pieced two and two together.

"i'm sorry, that must be weird," seungmin chuckled when you didn't say anything. he finally pulled a hand out of his coat pocket and he waved it before his face. "i used to stare at you quite a bit, so i knew."

instead of crossing your arms, this time, you felt your face grow into a gentle heat you haven't felt in years. you opened your mouth to let your voice out, but all you vomited were incoherent noises of shyness and past-due joy from receiving a love confession from the boy you used to have a massive crush on. it sounded like an animal shrieking in fragments, and you thought you ought to stop if you wanted to leave seungmin a good impression of yourself as an adult.

the irony of you reacting terribly now to a high school dream come true, which you've rehearsed the perfect reaction to a million times before in your room, was not lost on you. but you were also immensely kind to it because love will always be love no matter the eons passed, and sometimes eons are just a measly few years between high school graduation and the second year of college.

"why did you stare at me?" you asked in a frenzy, but the smile on your face was so wide your cheeks hurt. "i had no idea–how come i never knew?"

"well, i–" seungmin felt the base of his neck sour into a decaying heat like someone was pinching a sore spot on his body–"i stared at you because i liked you? why else would i do that?"

"you liked me?"

"yeah!" he admitted with a voice crack so ridiculous that he began spluttering out words as if he was angry at himself for letting his calm demeanor fly into a tornado's eye. he gestured at his seat and yours with increasingly furrowed brows and a mouth of pout. "your seat was at a very convenient angle! you literally sat diagonal from me, i have to look at you sometimes unless i never turn my head this way!"

you couldn't focus on how he sounded as if he was blaming you for his feelings, and maybe he was partially doing so. you were too baffled by the secret he decided to release after years—that he would stare at you in the morning when you were sleeping, or with his chin propped on his palm after he was done with tests, or secretly for only very brief seconds in the middle of classes. you were too baffled by the fact that he liked you in high school, the same time when you, too, secretly admired him.

but the way you fell in love with him was different than how he fell in love with you. most certainly. it was different because seungmin was well-loved by everyone back then while you were ordinary at best.

how you felt for him was an infatuation toward an untouchable, stoic beauty that everyone else around you also felt, to the point you had to hide your feelings because the competition was so severe that the mere idea of joining it was dehumanizing. there was no way seungmin would have returned your feelings, and there was not one person in the pool of options you were better than in all aspects of life. he was handsome, intelligent, and responsible, and you had never heard him laugh once. and you? you were none of those things.

the way seungmin felt for you was a desperate longing to be seen by someone who acted fond of everyone. he didn't like you because it felt like you didn't want him back, or that you didn't put him on such high standards and used it to justify your unreasonable liking towards him. he liked you because you were normal, because you were a good friend who helped him out with classroom responsibilities, because you didn't treat him like a stranger and actually allowed him to get to know you through subtle kindness.

"this is all so… surreal." you pressed a palm to your burning forehead, and you giggled, pulling away to see if you developed a burn mark. "when did it start?"

"it's not like a light switch. there isn't really a starting point," seungmin said before he pressed his lips into a thin line and shrugged. "but i guess i realized i had feelings for you when you stayed behind to help me clean up the classroom after christmas party."

you had been afraid of the dark back then, he remembered vividly. not just the dark, but specifically night hours in school, an endearing product of ghost stories and halloween tales. after throwing away the trash and setting the tables back to their original place, seungmin got caught before he turned off the classroom light by you screeching at him to wait momentarily. you had rushed toward him, haphazardly thanking him for his patience. after that, you had stuck close by him to a point where he could feel the back of his knuckles repeatedly brushing against yours. you had to apologize to him profusely when he held your hand and led you out of school.

you always thought he got irritated at how slow you were walking, and he did, but that was not all there was. more than hating the walking pace of a snail, which he relatively disregarded when he bucked up the courage to grab your hand, there was a sense of chivalry that grew in him when you leaned into him and tightened your grip around his hand. he wasn't sure if there were a word to describe how he felt—like a knight in shining armor, the kind of hero only a teenage boy could be to the classmate he truly thought he would love for the rest of his life. he would have fought off any ghost for you, he would have protected you from the world forever, he would have held your hands every day if he could.

you forced your lips downward to keep yourself from beaming at the fact that he still remembered that night. "oh wow, i can't believe it," you muttered. "i still tell people about you. my friends and colleagues know you as the boy who held my hands."

seungmin smiled. "you still talk about me?"

"yeah, i always talked about you," you replied, finally mustering the courage to look up at him.

you both met eyes from a place identical to the high school seating chart, and you wondered if things could have been different if you had just turned to look back at him once. just once, where all you needed to do was catch him staring at you, then perhaps you would have been able to drown in a more accurate delusion or he would have at least gathered some guts to talk to you first.

but, still, there was something so special about this vague friendship you shared. the way you two remained as acquaintances with hearts too big for the labels you were both too afraid to break out of made the yearning for each other so impossible that you took parts of each other with you at graduation and decided never to let go of those pieces. just bits and pieces of each other, and all the love you could have given focused directly on how you thought about those memories.

you still talked about him to your friends and family, and he still remembered the way your hand felt clutched in his. you still felt shy around his calmer demeanor, and he still used your birthday as his online game log-in password. you still fed off your delusional dreams of being with him, and he still wished he had said something back then just to let you know the feelings he bore so closely to himself because he felt that all his love for you went to waste cooped up inside his frail body.

he knew he was wrong now, as you smiled shyly at him from your seat, and all he wanted to do was to hold your hands and kiss you. he knew he was wrong and that no love could ever go to waste, not even when it went to a wrong person or miserably wrong timing. love will always be love; it will always be worth something, like seeing a smile paired with a stuttered-out confession after years passed or hearing someone laugh for the first time and realizing you have never stopped caring about him.

"hey," seungmin started as he leaned his arms on the table, "are you free this saturday?"

you blinked, remaining wordless for a little before you bashfully nodded, hiding the bottom half of your face behind your hands.

"would you have dinner with me?"

you pursed your lips and nodded. "as long as you hold my hand on our way home. i'm squeamish in the dark."

seungmin laughed. it was a hearty, welcoming laugh, and you have a feeling you would be hearing the sound a lot more from now on.

#stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids blurbs #skz blurbs #seungmin imagines #seungmin x reader #seungmin x y/n #seungmin x you #seungmin scenarios #seungmin blurbs

[purplecandygerl]

“I miss you” he mumbled as his gaze never left the bright city lights that luminates the cold night sky above him, a sight of opportunity to improve what he has now, something he wouldn’t have back at his home. 

“Is that how you greet people now Levi?” a soft chuckle was heard from the end of the line which never failed to leave him breathless, the payment for a stable future with you, is the distance of the endless oceans in between the two of you. 

“How was your day?” This has been his daily routine for five years now, instead of being able to hold you on his arm after a tiring day at work, cuddled up on a couch as you ramble about your day. 

Here he was in complete isolation, alone, and dreading in his spacious unit. His only source of you is through a small screen fitting his palms, only the comfort of your voice keeps him sane every single day. Questioning himself whether he chose the right decision.

“Levi?” he hummed, ignoring the sound of cars hooting in the background of your line “I never once regret supporting your decision even if it meant to keep us apart, I hope you do too” god, you know him too well. Even in this dreadful setting, your presence never seems to waver at his. “I love you” 

That is it

he cannot take it anymore

Spending another day without you would truly end him

"I have to go now, darling... I'll call you tomorrow."

“Wait Le–”  abruptly drops the line, as he reaches for his disgraced coat, every step reaching the door fills with hope.

5 damn years, he finally reach his limit

Damn all the expenses to get you here

Let him be homeless for all he cares

Hasty opening his entrance, only for a familiar (h/c) haired greets his sight, outside of his unit, knuckles already positioned to knock on his door.

He must be dreaming right?

With all those thinking he has been doing

He must have lost his mind

To see you standing outside his apartment

“Uhm” averting your gaze from him, feeling bad for not informing him of your arrival.

“Surprise? I wante–” Before you could explain yourself, you were already pulled to his hard chest, arms tightly wrapped around your waist, something that tells you he won't be letting you go as soon as he engulfs your scent.

“You brat” he sigh relaxedly “I was supposed to bring you here” removing yourself from his grasp cupping his cheeks, meeting his glistening grey eyes

“I'm sorry, but I cannot wait for another day to be separated from you” you confessed, just like that, the dam of tears finally reached its limit, tears won’t stop flowing down his cheeks, wiping off the fallen tears with your thumb as he finds himself leaning against your lips.

He doesn't have to be alone anymore

None of you have to be alone anymore 

“I’m home, Levi” 

“Welcome back home, [Name]”

#aot fanfiction #aot levi #captain levi #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #aot x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman fanfiction #aot #levi ackerman x you

[katastronoot]

Baurus / Frieda (hok) oneshot

Just sayin this is short and cute and I thought of it last night and hasn’t left my mind. Also cute little illustration to go with it cus why not?

A Toast in Cloud Rulers Cupboard

Tap tap tap. Nimble fingers touched the fabric of his doublet. His eyes jolted underneath the ever growing pressure of his eyelids. What time was it? The moonlight still streamed through the patterned window. Dawn hadn’t arrived yet.

“Are you going to fall asleep standing up?” Her voice was lifted with an amusing snort. He rolled his eyes.

“I suppose if you are I can send you to sleep with the horses in the stables. I’m sure Ferrum would appreciate to sleep in a bed instead of his cot in the armory.”

Baurus smirked, “What do you need of me Frieda?”

She tugged on the fellow blade standing behind her. “Fortis here is going to take watch for the remainder of the night.”

His eyebrow furrowed in confusion. It was his position every night to be on guard behind the emperor’s door. He had a three hour break once the sun rose and then he would resume his duty accompanying Martin down to the dining hall for breakfast and then to his study. It was like clockwork every day. His routine was solid and impenetrable.

Fortis nodded with a smile that hid something behind the expression. He took note of Frieda’s gleam in her eyes. Her warm gaze more present than ever. He could have lost himself in it if it weren’t for the impending sensation that something was going on.

“I don’t like this.”

She laughed. The melody of her chuckling sent his heart beating to a faster rhythm. Drats! She was the only one that could ever break his composure. A smile slipped and it faltered once she took his hand. He swore he could feel the the heat that radiated from her through the thick layers of his gauntlet.

“C’mon Jauffre won’t mind.”

He hesitated. Jauffre would do nothing more than mind a disruption in his soldiers duties. Another tug and a smile got the thought fading away from his mind like a flyer drifting away in the wind.

Maybe he wouldn’t mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She did exactly as planned as she pulled him away.

The smile she tried to hide had been breaking through as soon as she saw him drifting off to sleep on duty. He was always so stoic but had that little vise to him that reminded her of the little sheep dog she used to play with as a child. A puppy dog appearance through all of that rough exterior. She could have giggled. How funny to think such a way with all of the other havoc wrecking her mind. He always did one thing. Gave her a break from that.

“Might I ask where you are taking me? It has to be important considering you are pulling me away so suddenly.”

She nodded. “It is a matter of importance.”

Their steps reached a set of stairs leading down to the bed chambers. Her hand still rested in his as they made their descent.

He huffed, “I’m not sure your definition of importance matches mine.”

She chuckled, “Oh Baurus, don’t be so dour. It makes you show your age.”

Her eyes met his with a mischievous gleam. She saw the gears turn in his head. His smile fell.

“You aren’t.”

“I am.”

She opened the small wooden door at the end of the hall.

“Happy birthday!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He couldn’t help but assess the display before them. A part of him had to admit that it was impressive for what it was. The storage cupboard had been cleaned out to save space for a small seating area—two barrels and one cleared shelf. Upon the shelf sat two drinking glasses, a bottle of brandy, a dish of roasted chestnuts, and a quaintly iced and decorated cake.

He glanced back at Frieda. She smiled and shoved him in the room. “Hurry before someone sees. I had to set this up to keep out of curious eyes.”

“Jauffre.” He verified and she smiled. That gleam in her eye still outweighed all

“I thought this place would be best. I spent two hours cleaning it all up.” She commented as she seated herself. “You’re welcome.”

Baurus chuckled. His birthday. When was the last time he gave it any thought? Of course when the late emperor was still alive he always got well wishes on this day. Uriel Septim was a treasure to him. Not just because it was his duty but because the man did care about his men. His people. A twinge in his heart fell at that thought.

“I should be upstairs.”

Frieda huffed. “Sit down you oaf! We all deserve to celebrate our birthday!”

He did as told. The smell of the brandy already reaching his senses as she poured them both a glass. The cake smelled good too. His stomach rumbled. It had been a little while since he had eaten.

“Is that strawberry?” He asked and she nodded in a pondering way.

“You’re not sure? So I’m taking you didn’t make this?” He grinned as she blushed a little.

“No, I didn’t make it.”

“Oh Frieda…” He couldn’t help but to chuckle. She followed.

“Hey, the guy owed me a favor. I just uhm…called it in prematurely.”

He laughed, slicing into the desert. A cake, and it looked delicious. Stolen or not he was so grateful for this. For her.

“I hope you like it.” She grinned beneath her glass. “And before you ask, the brandy did not come from the prince of debauchery. I don’t think Martin would have approved…regardless of the fun we would have had.”

Baurus almost choked on the bite of cake. It’s flavor was almost to distract him from the thought. Was she aware of the effects her teasing had on him?

“Which reminds me. Be sure to leave him a slice out in the morning and a glass…Akatosh knows he needs it.”

He hoped that Frieda dismissed the added pinkness of his cheeks. He could run away then and there, demand to resume position but instead he picked up a chestnut. His thumb gliding agaisnt the smooth texture.

“I remember you telling me about always loving those.” She commented with a mouth full of icing. “I don’t really like em’ but they were easy to find and easy to roast. I used the smelter.” She chuckled. “Don’t tell Ferrum.”

It had been a while since he had them. Such a thoughtful thing for her to remember, a small little piece of knowledge to her and such a big memory to him. His lip upturned in an expression of happiness as well as sadness.

The flavor of the nut brought him back to that warm hearth fire he and his brothers sat around. Begging his mother to roast more so that they could help ease the chill of Bruma’s harsh snowy nights. They could never get enough and his kind compassionate mother always gave them just what they wanted—well when she was able.

“Oh I almost forgot!” He snapped out of the haze as he felt her touch his hand again, placing a full glass of brandy to his palm. She held up her own glass. “A toast!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What to say? She had rehearsed this in her head all day. A toast. A toast to one of the most dutiful and loyal men to serve our empire. A toast to my dearest friend always keeping me from trouble and my self corrupting antics. A toast to my best friend...A toast for the one that I hold so dear…dear in my heart.

A toast to the man I think I love?

She took a breath as she watched him smile and hold up his own glass. He had been quieter tonight. More than usual. It brought a small concern but that was easy enough for her to ignore.

“A toast.” She began, her heart rate beating quicker than before. She should have drank more before this. “A toast to one of the greatest blades in this temple. Jauffre might say otherwise but he’s not here now is he?”

Baurus chuckled. She eased a little. That was good, short and sweet. Their glasses clinked and that was that. No need to turn this into something something it shouldn’t be. Even if she wanted it to.

The spices of the brandy went down easy, quickly. They shared casual conversation. He asked her plenty about where she had been the last few days. Her answer was what it always was—don’t worry I’m fine. Those old ruins are there to be explored. No harm in it. I still have all my limbs. He then as always showed his concern for her well being and the action always caused her to feel warmth at her cheeks. A warmth not already induced from the brandy but it made a good coverage for her unwelcome display of emotion and fragility.

“Thank you for this.” He spoke softly. A gentle smile greeted her. Their bottle was almost empty.

“Of course.”

The candlelight was atmospheric. Warm and comforting as it casted from his deep brown eyes. She had to look away.

She remembered his eyes. The day when they first met. She was so fragile then so confused, misguided. Going from a ‘prisoner for murder’ to a ‘prophesied savior from the prince of destruction’ would do that to anyone. He showed her compassion and kindness. Helped to send her on this path.

Then she remembered those eyes. His lifeless eyes. He was dying. After the attack by the mythic dawn. Bleeding out in the sewers for Talos sake. The tears that she spent drained quicker than her magicka that day as she healed him. All of her strength was put into that. Any other day she wouldn’t have wasted that energy but she knew then and there that she had to save him because—

She couldn’t continue this journey without him.

The room had a steady turn as she looked around at all of the dusty wooden boxes and clouded jars that lined the shelves around them. That little buzz in her head kept her mind away from those spurts of clutter. It kept her mind wondering of a life where he wasn’t there. What would become of them once the battle was over? Would he still be here at her side? She only hoped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The brandy was hitting him more than he expected. What is in that? He wondered as he looked at the bottle. Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised at this point if it were an elixir of sanguine. At least then it would explain why he was about to do what he was just about to do.

“Frieda.” His voice cracked. Damn this all.

She looked up. Her curly hair was in a mess every which way framing her flushed cheeks. There was an icing stain on her linen tunic from the cake they just shared—and finished. It looks like there won’t be a piece saved for the emperor after all.

He took a deep breath as he watched the room spin. A whistle sounded from outside, the wind resounding off of the Jerall mountains.

He felt warm lips against his. What? He instinctively reached out as ran his fingers through blonde locks. The kiss deepened and he submitted to the welcoming embrace. She tasted like honey and spice and berries and chestnuts and the earthy chill of the wind and—home.

She felt like home.

It felt like a lifetime and then it felt like it didn’t happen at all. Her mismatched blue and green eyes were looking at hers. He was in shock. She looked to be in shock.

“I—y you.”

She looked back at him with a twinge of what was it? Guilt.

“You beat me.” He murmured.

Her brows furrowed and she began to back away quickly before his arms grabbed to her shoulders unknowingly—stopping her from her retreat.

“I was just about to do that.” A soft admission. She began to laugh. A deep laugh ending in a snort, as she always did. He returned the laughter with his own.

They finished off the bottle and ate the last of the roasted chestnuts while seated on the stone floor. His arms engulfed her and she reveled in the feeling.

Frieda slowly nodded off to sleep thinking of the ways she would convince her fellow guild member for not kicking her out because of thieving inside the faction. She honestly didn’t regret it and so what if she got reprimanded.

The cake was delicious.

#I was needing to write more #and baurus and Frieda uwu #I love them #tes #tesblr #my writing #oneshot #oblivion #baurus #oc Frieda #hok #fan fic #elder scrolls #hero of kvatch #tes fanfic

[hard-deckpilots]

Cowboy.

Pairing: Rhett Abbot × Rider! Reader.

Summary: Whilst competing at an international horse show event, Rhett has his eye on a certain rider.

Warnings: Rhett being a gentleman. Kissing. Mentions of falling off horse. I'm not a professional in horse stuff.

Wordcount: 1.73k

Tags: @sebsxphia @briseisgone

Images not mine.

These days where you spent so much time eventing was your favourite. 5 days straight of competing against other riders. You main areas were horsemanship and show jumping.

Not only did you compete but you watched other people compete. Mostly the cowboys. The rodeo and barrel racing was always an interest of yours.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day 1:

You had finally gotten Tidus your show horse, settled in his stable at the eventing ground. Preparing your saddle to go warm up in the arena, you placed it on the side of the wall. Tidus nudged your shoulder as you continued to prepare.

"I know boy, we'll get into the arena soon." You spoke softly to the chestnut coloured horse, stroking his maine softly.

Placing the saddle onto Tidus, you put in your riding gear and climbed up onto your horse. Riding out of the stables you rode past others and into the warm up arena. Gently leading through the paddock, you make sure to be aware of who is around you. To the left of you and Tidus, was a gentleman in a red flannel shirt, jeans, leather gloves hanging out his back pocket and a black Stetson.

Tidus being the boy he is, gently nudges the man's shoulder.

"Tidus stop it. I am so sorry." You apologise as you pull the reins away from the gentleman,

"It's no problems. I'm use to it anyways. May I?" The gentleman asking to pet Tidus.

"Of course." You smiled. Watching as the man pats Tidus on the neck. "What eventing you doing?" You asked the mystery cowboy.

"Rodeo and Barrel racing. I bet you do the fancy stuff don't ya with all that get up." The cowboy looked up at you with striking blue eyes. Eyes that literally took your breath away.

"Horsemenship and show jumping... Going there now actually." You smiled. He smiled back at you.

"Rhett." He held his hand up so you could reach it.

"Y/n." You shook his hand. "Rhett... I guess I'll see you later otherwise I'll be late."

"Of course." Rhett smiled. "Good luck out there and I'll see you around." Rhett smiled up at you.

You both said goodbye and you rode to the arena where you started your warm up. Entering the main arena you started your show jumping routine. Managing to complete the set jumps. When finishing Tidus walked around the arena and you saw a distinct black Stetson in the audience. He had a small smile on his lips, which made you blush lightly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day 2:

You were in the stable cleaning Tidus, listening to music on a low volume not paying attention to anything but Tidus.

"Well done on the jumping yesterday." A southern voice sounded out making you jump.

"Oh!" You turned around. "Thanks Rhett... We don't have anything today until later this afternoon. You enjoyed the show yeah?" You replied leaning against the stable door.

"It was quite a spectacle I have to say. I'm amazed Tidus can't jump that high. Here... For you." Rhett handed you a flower which appeared to be a dahlia.

"Oh... Thank you so much Rhett." You blushes taking the flower from him and smelling it.

"Where's your stable by the way?" You asked Rhett continuing to smell the flower,

"Just down there, see where that older gentleman is farriering. That's my stable." Rhett smiled "Is it okay if I see you later? I've got barrel racing in half and hour."

You smiled and nodded. Then decided to be brave. Leaning over the stable door on your tip toes you kissed his cheek softly. And this time it was for him to blush.

"Good luck Rhett."

He smiled and tipped his hat then walked off. Roughly half an hour later you hear hooves trotting down the paddock path. You look up and see Rhett on a beautiful grey horse, his Stetson still on with a blue flannel and a padded jacket. His leather gloved hands holding the reins.

You smiled and walked down to the arena to watch him. The barrel racing was incredibly amazing to you, the speed Rhett sent his horse round the barrels. As he finished he saw you standing off to the side and rode over to you, placing his Stetson on top of your head.

Afterwards you kept his Stetson on, and went to find him.

"Hey cowboy." You smiled. He looked up and smiled at you.

"You know... I think I'm falling for you Y/n." Rhett spoke as he looked at you, his eyes portraying more emotion than his face.

"I think I am as well." You smiled. Rhett took of the Stetson on your head, and pulled you gently by your waist and kissing you gently.

You kissed back and you both stayed behind the stables kissing.

"wow... You're a good kisser." Rhett spoke with a schoolboy smile,

"So are you... Not just a cowboy are you?" You smiled back giving him another kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day 3:

You walked down to Rhett's stable in the morning before you got ready, and saw him working on his horse.

"Morning cowboy." You spoke softly,

"Good morning fancy." He smiled back at you as he worked on his horse dart.

"I made something for you by the way. It's probably stupid..." You held out a bracelet made out of twine which you braided. Rhett looked at it and smiled and let you put it on his wrist.

"Thank you fancy." Rhett spoke kissing your cheek. "Good luck for your show jumping today." He continued making sure you knew he'd be there.

He watched as you prepared and walked you and Tidus to the arena, then took a seat near the gate. Watching as you done jumps, Rhett watched you and Tidus jump and then the next thing he knew you was on the floor.

Rhett didn't think as he jumped the fence and ran over to you.

"Y/n! Are you okay?" Rhett asked as he came over to you,

"Grab Tidus... Make sure he's okay please." You responded sounded winded. Rhett nodded and gently grabbed the reins of Tidus and calmed the horse down.

After a few minutes you managed to get back up and take the reins from Rhett. His hand laid on the small of your back, leading you out of the arena and to the medics. The medics checked you out, and said you had a sprained wrist. They wrapped it up and sent you on your way.

Rhett walked you and Tidus back to your stable. Doing all the work for you.

"You okay fancy?" Rhett asked softly,

"Sore but I'll be okay... What's horse riding without falling off aye?" You smiled softly at his concern.

Rhett kisses the top of your head. And he let you lead him to the room you stayed in, and layed together for the night. Eventually you fell asleep on him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day 4:

You and Rhett had spent the night together. This to you both felt right.

"Rhett... Where do you live?" You asked softly whilst still laying against him,

"Dayton in Wyoming." Rhett replied. "What about you?"

"We live closer to each other than I thought. I'm in Wyola in Montana." You smiled up at him. "Only 30 minutes from each other."

Rhett smiled down at you and kissed the top of your head. Neither of you had competitions today, which you were glad about as the tumble you took yesterday shook you.

"Do you wanna go look at the shops?" You asked,

"Sure." Rhett replied. Both you and Rhett got changed and walked around the shops set up. You walk past a stand selling leather riding boots.

"Oh... These are nice." You looked over them and checked the length of them against your leg.

"You wear these?" Rhett raised an eyebrow. "I could buy like 5 hay bails for this price." He spoke as he checked the price.

"Unlike you cowboy. When doing horsemanship competitions both I and Tidus have to be in the smartest condition when showing the judges." You smiled teasing Rhett a bit.

"Understandable miss/ Mr fancy." He smiled back as he couldn't believe the price of the riding boots. He looked at another shop with you, which were leather gloves.

"Those are nice." You spoke,

"I got a pair." Rhett smiled showing you his gloves which have been worn through. You rolled your eyes and kept them in mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day 5:

It was the final. The final day you'd get to see Rhett. You had your horsemanship competitions during the day, before having to pack away. Your wrist was in a brace but you braved through it.

Rhett watched you as though you had enchanted him. The horsemanship was something different he hadn't really watched before. All the competitors finished and the judges were calling out the top 3. Rhett sat there with his fingers crossed, hoping you at least made it to the top 3. And when your name was read out last, he cheered so loudly and was smiling at you brightly.

Your face was tearful in a good way when you rode out of the arena, and he helped you off Tidus.

"You won! You won the championship Y/n." He cheered, twirling you in his arms.

"I done it!" You smiled burying your head into the crook of Rhett's neck. The two of you celebrated for a while and then it came time to say goodbye.

"I made something so we could match." Rhett spoke placing a twine bracelet on your good wrist. You smiled up at him.

"Well I got something for you as well.... Here." You held out brand new leather riding gloves, the ones Rhett had noticed the day before.

"Y/n... You didn't have to...." Rhett looked at you with admiration. Rhett held the gloves and then noticed a note inside. He opened it and noticed it was your name and number and address.

"Text me?" You asked softly.

"I'll call you every day... Is that okay?" Rhett responded. You nodded and kisses him on the lips softly.

He smiled and kissed back.

"Make sure you look after that wrist okay?"

Nods

"I will. I'll come visit you at the ranch one day. It's only a thirty minute drive, so we don't have too far do we."

Rhett kisses your forehead again and gave you one of his hoodies to keep with you. You hugged before you went your separate ways. And on the way home all your mind could think about was him.

The Cowboy.

#writing #outer range #rhett abbott #cowboy

[arihi]

Anyway I'm on Tumblr on my computer at 3 AM now so I might as well do another post. I'm rambly and not quite wanting to get to bed yet, I suppose. (Just a personal blog post under the line.)

It's a new year, and I am doing okay. There are a lot of things I've put off that continue to cast their shadows over me which stresses me out. I will try to work on those eventually. There are deeper issues that are not quite as easy. My relationship with my family is maybe more complicated than before, somehow. I feel generally happy here, but the large gulf between my life here and the snapshot of the life back in Texas every time I visit is so overwhelming that I feel like derealized, a little, for a longer time after each visit than I would like. So dissociated. I went to a 6 hour DJ set a couple of days after I got back from Texas and even with the music so loud I'm sure I've lost hearing, and the bass deep in my chest making it almost hard to breathe, I spent a great part of it staring at the ceiling wondering to myself "Damn, my name is Ari," as if it was a new discovery every time.

I am stressed about my place in it all. Physically, emotionally. Physically, will I need to move, and will I survive that? Emotionally, too complicated to even figure out how I feel about it, let alone putting it to text, let alone posting it on a blog. I flew back home, went to the DJ set, and the day after a good friend flew in and is staying in town for 2 weeks, until Charmed, and then there's Charmed. I am excited for Charmed, but phew. As I type this, I do realize that a large part of feeling so unsettled and rambly late at night is that I haven't gotten to decompress from my holiday trip, and I won't get a chance to until the complicated feelings have likely already buried themselves too deep to process. How could I ever, when it's been a tangled web for over twenty years?

My fitness journey has come to a standstill, since I can't justify the personal training anymore. I do need to work on probably a more stable and consistent gym routine, but it's a mountain of a task to me for regular reasons that aren't really important. It's a typical new year's resolution really, but it just feels more demoralizing to me at the moment because it had been one of the big things I was proud of myself for in recent years, and I had kept at it a long time, so part of me feels like when I stop it'll be impossible to start again, but I know it's not true. But what we know and how we feel don't always line up.

I don't do the annual FutureMes that I used to, but I know every time I wrote one a year down the line was unfathomable to me and I'd always be in such a different position than I had before. I'm banking on that, because I'd like to be feeling different - if not soon, then at least by the next year. Here's to hoping!

#blog post #personal

[wickedsrest-rp]

Name: Mabel Chen Species: Werewolf Occupation: Server at Driftwood Diner Age: 23 Years Old Played By: Lucky Face Claim: Havana Liu Rose

"I just wish people stopped acting like there’s a gold medal at the end of the race when you act like you care."

TW: Parental death, infidelity

There isn’t much to say about Mabel’s early days. She was born to a Russian mother and a Chinese father who immigrated to the States as a couple in their early twenties and found normalcy in odd jobs until they felt stable enough to start a family. Although their dreams of having a big one became stunted when they figured starting over with a second baby was too much work they weren’t eager to sign up for. So they focused their attention on Mabel, and tried their best to give her a plentiful life.

Mabel’s mother was known for having no backbone, and Mabel’s father was known for being a little too particular about everything. Mabel could count in the fingers of one hand the amount of times she heard her mother’s opinion about a subject, be it grand or mundane. She reduced herself to the labors his father was not equipped to do or, in Mabel’s now mature opinion, just decided not to. This was the case for as long as she could remember, and it ended abruptly when she was fourteen.

Recollections of that day seem blurry now. The house was as quiet as it always was when she returned from school, but that day there was an unusual emptiness to it that she picked up as soon as she walked through the door. Going through the rooms yelling out for her parents turned useless when they weren’t there to answer, and when an unexpected knock came to the door she couldn’t help but jump to the inevitable conclusion that something wasn’t right. Behind it was her nextdoor neighbor, her face captured by an anguished look.

Mabel’s father had suffered a fatal heart attack, and her mother fell into an endless denial. Her ineptness had become Mabel’s responsibility, turning the escape from her household into a routine. She found solace in wandering the streets, exploring the city, and discovering new places to temporarily forget the weight of her new reality.

It was during one of these escapades that she encountered an enigmatic older man. Their relationship started innocently enough, filled with illusion and daydreams. Little did Mabel know, however, that beneath this man’s charming exterior lurked a tangled web of lies. One evening, Mabel accidentally stumbled upon the truth about his double life. He was married, a family man with a house full of children too bored to bother about the consequences of seeking entertainment outside of his TV set and the sports channel. The revelation fueled a heated argument that shattered the illusion of happiness she thought they had built.

Furious and betrayed, Mabel stormed out, determined not to accept a ride from the man who had deceived her. Alone and with no money, she began the long walk home, each step fueled by a mix of anger, confusion, and heartbreak.

It was during this fateful journey that she encountered a creature lurking in the shadows.

Without warning, it pounced, sinking its teeth into her flesh. In the chaos that ensued, she fought back, bewildered and terrified. Eventually breaking free, she stumbled her way home, her body pulsating with an otherworldly energy.

You would think fate would be accommodating, but the next new moon was only a few nights away. Mabel didn’t know she would be experiencing pain and insatiable hunger like she never had before.

Searching for answers, she turned to the internet, where a mix of folklore and reality pointed to a shocking conclusion – she had turned into a werewolf.

However, what initially felt like a course soon became the best thing that could happen to her. The full moon brought her a sense of liberation like nothing she had felt before. She began to relish the transformations, savoring the moments when she felt less human, less responsible for her mother’s sanity, less vulnerable to the heartbreak that had come to her not soon before. Every full moon became a dance with the unknown, a symphony of possibilities that resonated deep within her. She felt driven by a new sense of urgency to escape the constraints of her life, so she decided to make an altering life decision.

Fueled by a mix of anger, disappointment, maybe a bit of rebellion, as well as the primal instincts awakening within her, Mabel decided to leave hometown under the cover of darkness to embrace the unknown that laid ahead in Wicked’s Rest.

Once settled, Mabel embarked on a journey of adaptation, to which she began to see no end. Without a doubt, maintaining control of her new nature was not as easy a task as she had initially believed, and the torment did not hide from leaving evidence in her mood.

Character Facts:

Personality: Resilient, impulsive, courageous, stubborn, adaptable, secretive

Although not fluent, she speaks Russian and Mandarin Chinese.

Mabel’s father was a farmer, which meant he used all the help he could get. Mabel learned some things in her childhood while helping him with the upkeep of the land and animals, and although it’s not something she has ever expressed before, she would like to acquire a piece of land in the near future to do the same.

The day she arrived at Wicked’s Rest, she went to an animal shelter in hopes to find a pet. That’s how she found Chimney, the long and orange haired cat. He has black spots of hair all over his body that give him a dirty look, as if he had just gone down a chimney, hence his name.

The wired earbuds in Mabel’s ears at all times are playing everything but music. She often distracts herself with audio books she doesn’t have the attention span to read as there is nothing else she would dread more than to have a moment with her own thoughts.

She is renting a small shed in the back of an old lady’s home in Harborside. She often joins in for Sunday’s dinner with her family when they come to visit from Seven Peaks.

#parental death tw #infidelity tw #retired #unleashed

[gingerbeardmansim]

The Ultimate Relationship Tag – Ace & Beck

Thanks @rebouks for the reblog to us!! I thought this would be a perfect way to understand this couple.

Disagreements:

Who is more likely to raise their voice? Beck

Who threatens to leave but never actually does? Beck

Who keeps their word and leaves? Ace, but he always comes back.

Who trashes the house? They are both neat freaks. Both are a little OCD, Beck more than Ace.

Do either of them get physical? no

How often do they argue/disagree? At least once a week, mostly small stuff

Who is the first to apologize? Beck

Sex:

Who is on top? Beck

Who is on the bottom? Ace

Who has the strangest desires? Ace

Any kinks? Beck likes domination at times.

Who’s dominant in bed? Beck

Is head ever in the equation? Definitely

If so, who is better at performing it? Ace

Ever had sex in public? Yes

Who moans the most? Ace

Who leaves the most marks? Beck

Who screams the loudest? Ace

Who is the more experienced of the two? Flip a coin

Do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’? Both, depends on the mood.

Rough or soft? Again, depends on the mood.

How long do they usually last? Ace lasts longer most of the time, but Beck cane come multiple times, so 15 minutes to 2 hours.

Is protection used? no

Does it ever get boring? rare

Where is the strangest place they’d have sex? Under the bridge in San Myshuno

Affection:

Who likes to cuddle? Ace

Who is the little spoon? Ace

Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? Ace

Who struggles to keep their hands to themself?  Ace

How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? About twenty minutes, then Beck has to stop.

Who gives the most kisses? Ace

What is their favorite non-sexual activity? Massages

Where is their favorite place to cuddle? On the sofa watching TV

Who is more likely to playfully grope the other? Ace

How often do they get time to themselves? They always seem to make time!

Sleeping:

Who snores? Beck, Ace rarely, only when he has a cold.

If both do, who snores the loudest? Ace when he has a cold.

Do they share a bed or sleep separately? Share a bed.

If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart? When they first lay down, they cuddle, but Beck is the first to turn over

Who talks in their sleep? Ace

What do they wear to bed? Beck- briefs / Ace - Nada

Are either of your muses insomniacs? Occasionally Ace has bouts of insomnia.

Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside? no

Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? limbs

Who wakes up with bed hair? Beck, Ace has kept his buzzed short

Who wakes up first? Beck

Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? Beck

What is their favorite sleeping position? Beck, on his left side / Ace on his stomach

Who hogs the sheets? Ace

Do they set an alarm each night? Yes

Can a television be found in their bedroom? Yes

Who has nightmares? Ace

Who has ridiculous dreams? Ace

Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? Ace

Who makes the bed? Generally, whoever gets up last, which is Ace

What time is bedtime? Midnight, most nights

Any routines/rituals before bed? Ace must shower before bed and as soon as he gets up.

Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? Ace

Work:

Who is the busiest? Beck

Who rakes in the highest income? Beck

Are any of your muses unemployed? No

Who takes the most sick days? Not an issue, both love their jobs.

Who is more likely to turn up late to work? Both work from home

Who sucks up to their boss? Beck, as Ace is self-employed/Freelance

What are their jobs? Beck is CFO / Ace Freelance photographer, and they both flip houses.

Who stresses the most? Beck

Do your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? Both love their jobs, but Beck sometimes becomes aggravated the most.

Are your muses financially stable? Yes

Home:

Who does the washing? Ace

Who takes out the trash? Beck

Who does the ironing? They send out to the dry cleaners for that.

Who does the cooking? Share that responsibility, but mostly Beck.

Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying? Not an issue

Who is messier?  Neither they both have ODC, but Beck says it is Ace

Who leaves the toilet roll empty? Again, OCD

Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? Neither

Who forgets to flush the toilet? Neither

Who is the prankster around the house? Ace

Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? Beck

Who mows the lawn? Hired out

Who answers the telephone? No home phone, only cell phones

Who does the vacuuming? They have a housekeeper that comes three twice a week.

Who does the groceries? They do it together or have the housekeeper do it if they are busy.

Who takes the longest shower? Ace

Who spends the most time in the bathroom? Ace

Miscellaneous:

Is money a problem? No

How many cars do they own? Each has their car, and they have a jeep

Do they own their home or do they rent? Own

Do they live near the coast or deep in the countryside? The Pinnacles in DSV

Do they live in the city or in the country? City

Do they enjoy their surroundings? Love it!!

What’s their song? Million Reasons – Lady Gaga

What do they do when they’re away from each other? Work

Where did they first meet? At a bar

How did they first meet? Ace was bartending at the club FLUX and he hit on Beck.

Who spends the most money when out shopping? Ace

Who’s more likely to flash their assets? Beck

Who finds it amusing when the other trips over? Ace

Any mental issues? Hmmm, OCD both

Who’s terrified of bugs? Ace

Who kills the spiders around the house? Beck

Their favorite place? Home

Who pays the bills? Beck or their accountant

Do they have any fears for their future? Ace, being alone / Beck, losing all their Money

Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? Beck

Who uses up all of the hot water? Ace

Who’s the tallest? Beck

Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? Beck

Who wanders around in their underwear? Ace

Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? Ace

What do they tease each other about? Who is more like their mother or father

Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? Beck, well the lack of clothing, period

Do they have mutual friends? Yes

Who crushed first? Ace

Any alcohol or substance related problems? None

Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? Neither

Who swears the most? Ace

#reblog #gettingtoknowOC #AceNBeck #coupleGoals #ts4rotationalgameplay

[minervadashwood]

Scars and Stitches, Ch. 14: Straight Through the Heart (and Skull)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Summary: You learn to shoot a gun, then Daryl takes you into the woods for a few lessons of his own. Warnings: (it's a secret), walkers, weapons training, shane Note: I scrapped and rewrote versions of this chapter no less than ten times. This is the one I’m happiest with, and I hope you will like it, too. Also, I have a playlist I use for inspiration.

=====

_____

“Kisses should not leave you satisfied. They should leave you wanting.” ― Sarah MacLean, Nine Rules to Break When Romancing a Rake

_____

Shane had taught all of you about gun safety: cleaning your weapon, checking the chamber, removing clips, reloading clips.  Then, he rigorously quizzed everyone to make sure the information stuck.

Finally, he handed out small handguns, and the training began in earnest.  Your palms were sweaty holding the semiautomatic pistol, and your arms were shaking when you pulled the trigger.  The kickback sent your entire body reeling, not only because of the physical effect but from the sheer power and loud volume.  It ticked all your anxiety symptom boxes, fight or flight now in low gear.  You looked down the row of other students, and none of them seemed to be as affected as you. Jimmy even smiled as he pulled the trigger repeatedly.  Shooting a crossbow was nothing like this.

Shane put his hand between your shoulder blades, making you flinch.  He kept his palm there and pressed his mouth to your ear so you could hear him over the cacophony of guns going off down the line. 

“You’ll get used to it,” he said. “Spread your legs a little further apart and bend your knees slightly.”

You did as he said, feeling a bit more stable.

“Good. Deep breaths, in and out.”

A pro at deep breathing, you did this a few times until the worst of your anxiety subsided.

“Now, square your shoulders.  Keep your core tight. This time, you know what’s coming, and you’ll be ready for it.”

You nodded, and Shane stepped away from you.

Shane’s advice helped some, you certainly felt more centered and a little less scared.  You shot again and again, not caring if you hit your target, only that you get over this fear. However, after you’d emptied your clip, you realized you’d managed to hit the outside edge of the target twice.  Once the clip was empty, you went through the routine of removing the clip and checking the chamber before finally setting the gun down.

Everyone else had also finished their first clip, and the silence had your ears ringing.  Maybe you should ask Daryl or Glenn if they could find you some ear plugs.

“You keep working on your stance,” Shane told you. “Once you get that stance in shape the kickback’ll be a lot less jarring. Your aim will be better, too. Not bad for your first time.”

You nodded and took a few deep breaths. You still hated firearms, like deep in your soul hated them. But the world was different now, and if you wanted to keep yourself and the others safe, you needed to learn how.

You reloaded your clip and tried again. This time was even better; you managed to cluster four of the eight shots in the center of the target.

Shane pulled you behind the firing line until he could speak in a normal voice.

“What did I tell you? Complete natural.”

You wondered if Daryl’s crossbow lessons had helped you. Yesterday evening you’d learned to control your breathing, to line up the sights, to keep your hands and arms steady when you pulled the trigger.

“Thanks,” you said

Shane clapped you on the back in the way that men did to show you were just one of the guys. “You’ll be able to keep watch soon enough, but for now don’t stray too far from the camp. Make sure one of us is always nearby.” He let out a snide chuckle, “Though Daryl usually sees to that when he’s around.”

Did even Shane notice how much time you spent with Daryl? Shane who couldn’t sit still for more than five minutes? Who seemed obsessed with checking on Carl and following around Rick? You caught him eyeing the knife on your belt.

“It’s a beaut,” he said. “Fällkniven A1 Pro. Back before we found the farm, Daryl grabbed it on a run before I had a chance. Didn’t know what he wanted with it—hell, he’s got two good ones already.”

Shane clenched his jaw and let out a long sigh. “And he gave it to you.”

“Uh, yeah. I asked him to teach me.”

Shane shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then he took off his hat, wiped sweat from his brow, and put the cap back on.  

He opened his mouth to say something when Rick seemed to appear from nowhere.

Shane turned to his friend. “Remember that Fällkniven we found a few weeks back?”

Rick rolled his eyes. “I know, I know. The one Daryl swiped right out from under you. Look, brother, we’ve been over this before. It’s not worth getting worked up over a hunting knife.”

Shane elbowed Rick and pointed to your belt.

Rick chuckled and shook his head. “Is that his idea of an engagement ring?

You blushed all over. “Come on, Rick.  He’s teaching me to use it.  Since we have Hershel now, I’m not much help as a medic.  Besides, I need to learn how to protect myself.”

Rick quirked an eyebrow.  “Daryl’s teaching you?”

You nodded.  “I’m tired of being useless.”

Rick put a friendly hand on your shoulder, “You’re far from useless, but if this is important to you, keep it up.”

“It is.”

Shane bent over slightly until he was eye level with you. “You know, sunshine, you could’ve come to me about this. I’ve trained people my whole career.”

The way he was looking at you seemed almost predatory. But Rick was chuckling, and if Rick didn’t think anything was amiss, it was probably all in your head.

You shrugged. “Daryl offered, and he’s a good teacher,” you told them.

Rick patted the top of your head. “He’s good for you, Morgan.”

Despite Shane’s oppressive presence, you found yourself smiling at Rick. “You think so?”

“Well, sure.”

You grinned, so glad that Rick was beginning to see all the goodness in Daryl. You said, “You know he really cares about the group. It’s not just me, Carol, and Sophia.” You glanced to Shane, hoping he would take what you were saying to heart. “He’s a really great guy.”

Rick nodded his agreement.  “You’re real good for him, too, you know.”

You blushed, unsure what to infer from Rick’s statement. “I hope I’m not a nuisance to him,” you admitted.

Rick chortled. “I don’t think that’s the case, is it Shane?”

Shane was staring off in the distance, seemingly startled by Rick’s question.  He furrowed his brow and looked at Rick.  “You sure it’s safe for her to be with him? No telling what he gets up to.”

“Hey! Mr. Walsh!” Jimmy jogged up to your little circle, smiling with his eyes bright. “Can I try a bigger gun now?”

Shane gave Jimmy a nod. Shane left, and on his he way, he squeezed your shoulder tightly.

==

Daryl was hunting most of the morning, after lunch he had you tell Carol you wouldn’t be able to help with supper. You’d be training in the woods. To prepare, you filled a jug with water and found a reasonably clean towel in case you sweated profusely.  Slung over your shoulder was your new crossbow and at your hip was your now-ubiquitous Fällkniven.

You followed Daryl closely as he led you deeper into the Georgia forest than you’d ever been. After walking for a while, you heard the tell-tale growling of walkers. Your body, remembering yesterday’s lessons, acted without conscious thought, pulling out your knife and gripping it tightly.

Daryl turned and smirked at you. “Nice reflexes, but there’s nothin’ to worry about. C’mon.”  He grabbed your wrist and pulled you along.

You trusted Daryl, but the fear you’d had under that jeep was made real again, especially as the walker groans got louder and louder. You tried to breathe through your fear. You’d put down one walker; maybe you could do it again.  After a few more turns, you finally saw them.  Three walkers in total, each of them with hands bound and bodies strapped to the trunks of trees. How in the world had Daryl managed this? 

“You did all this?”

He grunted, releasing your wrist. “Target practice.”

“Daryl, that’s really dangerous!  What if something happened to you?” Adrenaline coursed through you. What if he’d been bitten or hurt? You’d never forgive yourself.

He shrugged. “I’m alright.”

This time, you grabbed his wrist. “You’re always saying how you worry about me. Don’t you think I feel the same way? I worry just as much about you.”

Daryl wrested his wrist away, his eyes suddenly downturned as he avoided your gaze. “You don’t got nothin’ to worry ‘bout.”

He took a few steps away from you but kept well away from the walkers.  Then, like yesterday, he assumed a fighting stance, then jutted his chin at you.

Well, that conversation was clearly over.

You removed your crossbow and hanged it on a nearby tree limb. Then, you mimicked Daryl, adjusting your stance until you felt stable.

Daryl demonstrated some footwork, like stepping to the side, turning specific directions. You copied his movements, again and again, until they felt more natural.

With a small nod of approval, Daryl said, “I’m gonna come at you slow. You don’t worry about attackin’, just try to move away while keepin’ your balance. Ready?”   You nodded.

He stowed away his knife and started shambling toward you like a walker.  He looked ridiculous. You couldn’t stifle your giggle, but you tried to stay focused.

He lunged forward, slowly, and using the footwork he just taught you, you stepped to the outside of his lunge.  He turned and came for you again, and you repeated your dodging maneuvers.  This went on a few more times before Daryl seemed satisfied with your progress.

“Now let’s work on offense.  Take it slow.”

You nodded.  Daryl demonstrated how to combine the footwork with some of the knife movement from yesterday.  Again, you mimicked his demonstration, then he took on the role of a walker.  This time it was harder, so many things to think about at once, and it took many more repetitions.  When you started getting the hang of it, Daryl gradually sped up each encounter. It felt like a dance, the two of you moving in tandem, the only sounds besides your walker-audience were your breathing and Daryl’s, serving as the tempo to your movements.

Daryl taught you some other ways of dodging and attacking, all of them simple but with variations depending on the size of the walker and the direction it attacked from.  He showed you how to move with your entire body: legs, hips, back, shoulders, everything working in unison toward the same goal. With each additional movement, you repeated it over and over to get it just right.

You made frequent use of your towel. In fact, you don’t ever remember working out this hard before, but Daryl’s patience and your need to make him proud kept you motivated.  You were soaked in sweat, probably looked a mess, but it was nothing a good wash and a clean set of clothes wouldn’t fix.

By the time the shadows from the trees started bending in the other direction, Daryl announced it was time for a break.  Now used to the impotent threat of walkers nearby, you slouched to the ground and leaned against the thick trunk of a tree.  Daryl disappeared, but you knew he wouldn’t go far.  You half wondered if he might try to bring you bloody squirrels or chipmunks to eat—RIP Alvin, Simon, and/or Theodore—but he came back with an armful of wild apples and sat next to you.

He handed you the largest one—because of course he did—and you chomped right into it.  Beside you, Daryl took out his knife and began dexterously slicing his chosen apple.

“Oh,” you said around your mouthful. “Should have thought of that.”  Juice from the fruit dripped down your chin, and you felt incredibly silly.  Frozen between wiping your face with your sweaty shirt or sweaty towel, you kept chewing and gulped down your bite of apple.

When you looked back at Daryl, he’d let his apple fall to his lap.  When your eyes met his, he leaned toward you, and with a brush of his finger, wiped away the liquid streaming down your chin. He put his finger in his mouth, slurping up the sweetness.

And damn was that sexy.

He arched his brow, watching you, his cheeks and the tops of his ears the slightest shade of pink.

Suddenly breathless, you held his gaze. You wanted to take the place of his finger, to kiss him tenderly and never stop.

Your apple fell to the ground, forgotten, and you rose to your knees, facing him. Your gaze never left his. He held himself entirely still, except for one flick of his tongue as he licked his lips.  Moving slowly, you inched forward until you straddled one of his legs, your knees on either side of his thigh.

Daryl’s eyes were wide, but he didn’t push you away. Instead, he tossed his knife to the side and reached for you. His hands slid around your waist, until his arms completely encircled you. A relieved sigh escaped your lips as you placed a hand on each of his shoulders. Arranged like this, you were taller than him, looking down into his soulful eyes, which seemed to be drinking you in.

Voice trembling, you said, “C-can I kiss you?”

Daryl’s arms went taut around you, then he snaked one hand up the length of your back until it cradled the back of your head.

Was that permission?

You arched your brow.

He gave you a small nod.

You leaned down and kissed him. It was soft and brief, barely a brush of your lips over his.

You tried pulling away to gauge his reaction, but he didn’t let you. The arm around your waist held you flush against him, while the hand at the base of your head was angling you back to his mouth.

You thought this would be swift, fleeting, but Daryl had other plans. His lips slid over yours, soft and tender at first, but then demanding, like he was drowning and kissing you was his only hope of survival.

He took control of everything, keeping your body tight against his, urging your head and mouth where he wanted them. His tongue teased the seam of your lips, and you parted them. You were full of uncertainty, but Daryl more than made up for it, licking inside your mouth, teasing your tongue, sending sparks through your entire body, straight to your core.

An involuntary moan escaped you; you melted into him languid and needful.

Daryl grunted into your mouth, the sound vibrating through you. You moved your tongue along his experimentally, and he actually whimpered, the sound so primal, so vulnerable that it touched something deep inside of you.

A second later, he broke the kiss, forcing you to reach for him, but he was busy shrugging off his vest. You gazed at him. His lips were wet and swollen, his eyes hungry. For you.

Once his vest was off, he wrapped it around your shoulders. Then his arms were around you again, cradling your back as he lowered you on to the forest floor, the vest beneath you.

Ravenous, you grabbed at the front of his shirt, and he let you pull him down until he was supporting himself on his elbows, with his torso on top of yours as his lower half nestled between your legs.

“Oh, darlin’,” he murmured just before kissing you again.

You buried your hands in his mussed, sweaty hair. You needed his touch, his kiss more than you imagined possible. It was like you’d been waiting all your life to breathe him in and lap at the fountain of his lips. This was Daryl, sweetly masculine, his kisses both forceful and loving, a man whose aggression and tenderness had you yearning for him, even though he was already in your arms.

His kiss was no less demanding, and from you he elicited sounds you’d never heard yourself make. Soon, his mouth left yours to trail kisses to your ear.

On the way, he mumbled into your skin. “Fuck, woman. You taste so good, better than I imagined.” His mouth and tongue went to work on a sensitive spot near your earlobe.

You were melting, simultaneously languid and craving. “Daryl,” you whispered. “That feels so good.”

He grunted near your ear and continued his efforts to make you lose your mind. Your hips moved on their own, the ache between your thighs seeking friction from his body. He reacted in kind, the hard length of him—trapped within his jeans—grinded against you. Everywhere you looked or touched there was Daryl, his arms protectively surrounding you, his weight the perfect anchor to your crushing desire, his breath and scent filling your nostrils, and his mouth only making you want and need.

Letting out a breathy sigh, your hands roamed down his back. You needed to touch him, skin to skin. You lifted the hem of his shirt and clutched at his back. He was so much stronger than you, but you urged him closer, wanting so much more.  

His mouth slid from your neck, marking another trail to your chin, then to your collarbone. He stopped and rested his forehead on your shoulder, breathing heavily.

He whispered your name, dragging it out like a prayer, a plea. Then he was almost completely still, breathing against your skin, his lips just barely touching you.

His moment of pause let you process everything that was happening, and suddenly it was all too much. You wanted him, you felt it in your bones, in your soul, but not like this. Not frantic and rushed and in the dirt.  No, you wanted him slow and gentle. You wanted words between you, wanted to understand what he felt for you, wanted to share what you felt for him.

Your hands left the small of his back and cradled his face. You pulled him away from your collarbone and forced him to look at you.  “I want to stop. I-is that okay?”

Daryl pushed himself up, and the loss of his comforting weight left you feeling cold and alone. Had you pissed him off?  Why didn’t he say anything?

These thoughts came quickly, but it was less than a second before Daryl grabbed your hands and pulled you up to a sitting position, and in the same smooth motion, he hugged you to him.

His hand slid around your shoulders. “You never have to worry about tellin’ me to stop. I’d never hurt ya.” He held you gently, and you nuzzled his neck as he kept you close, relieved and comforted.

He would never hurt you. You knew that deep down, but his words soothed you, nonetheless. 

He pulled from the hug and arranged the two of you so that he was leaning against the tree again, and you were sitting between his legs, with your back against his front.  He wrapped his arms tightly around your middle and pressed a kiss on the top of your head. At your lower back, you again felt the hard length of him, lasting evidence of how much he still wanted you.

More importantly, though, he respected that you weren’t ready for sex. And he was holding you like it wasn’t a big deal, like sex was only secondary to making you feel safe and treasured.

You both breathed heavily for some moments, and you let yourself relax into him completely, savoring the way his body seemed perfectly shaped to hold yours.

You leaned your head back on his chest and looked up at him. “Are all first kisses that intense?”

He watched you with heavy-lidded eyes. “Nah, don’t think so.” 

Suddenly bashful, you lowered your gaze. “I wasn’t sure you wanted me like this.”

“Been wantin’ you forever, seems like.” He nuzzled your hair. “Worth the wait.”

*

Daryl was holding back tears at the same time he was holding on to you. He was incredibly unworthy of your affection, but now that you’d given it to him, he never wanted to part with it.

He loved the way you were melting into him, your body flush and sexy, all soft curves that he couldn’t get enough of. Not to mention your swollen lips and messy hair, which had leaves and twigs sticking out of it. Seeing what he’d done to you unleashed something primal within him. Like he’d claimed you, and you’d let him.

Your hands were gently caressing his knees, your touch fleeting but soothing.  However, he noticed you go slightly tense. To comfort you, he pressed a kiss to your temple.

You gazed up at him, pretty eyes wide and searching. “This—this isn’t just something physical, is it? I know we’re friends, but I don’t know if I can only be your friend after this.”

What he felt for you went well beyond a silly crush or a casual friendship. He wasn’t sure love was the right word; he’d never felt it before.

“I’m yours,” he said. “However, you want me.”

Turning slightly, you put your hand on his chest and looked at him. “You’re mine?”

He gave you a small nod and trailed a finger along your cheek. “I been yours since the day I first laid eyes on you.”

“You’ve wanted me since then? You didn’t even know me.”

But he did know you, somehow. As if the moment you walked into his life, you had always been there, were always meant to be there.

“Since then,” he said.

“If you’re mine, does that make me yours, too?”

He treasured that thought. You were his, and his alone. Only he could kiss you, caress you, share your bed. He was more than willing to wait to have sex. If he was being honest with himself, he wanted to wait a while too. Despite his feelings for you, he wasn’t ready to jump in all at once. You and him still had a lot to figure out.  However, the thought of you being his—no one else’s—filled him to the brim with happiness and possessiveness.

He shoved his fingers through your hair and forced you to look at him. “Mine.”

“Yours,” you whispered. He ducked his head to kiss you again, this time slow and gentle. Then he just held you close, getting used to the feel of you and the idea of you wanting him, maybe as much as he wanted you.

======

End Notes:

We’re just going to think of Daryl’s ability to capture walkers as part of his rugged mystique and let suspension of disbelief take care of the rest.

Firearms training slightly based on my brother (a war vet) trying to teach me to shoot a gun. (It’s a wild story if anyone wants to hear it). To be clear, we are all pro gun control in the Dashwood family.

Daryl’s knife lessons are based on a Filipino fighting style called Pekiti-Tirsia Kali 1, 2). Not that Daryl would know this necessarily, but it was a style that kind of fit the plot, so, yeah.

Thanks for reading! Please like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed it.

Next Chapter

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #twd #twd fanfic #plus size #plus size reader #plus size fanfic #mdop #minerva writes #dd/xm #scars and stitches

[sprainedwriting]

the trees have eyes. 1

pairings: henry creel/reader, eddie munson/reader, robin buckley/reader (it makes sense i swear)

summary: there's something in the forest

warning/tags idk: huge canon divergence (basically an AU), me messing around with the timeline, blood warning, reader is gn and bi

nothing ever happens in a small town.

you were born in hawkins, you grew up here and you are still growing in it. and after years you were able to establish a stable routine.

wake up, go to school and suffer through it, get home, eat and take a walk with your dog in the forest.

right now you reached the walking part of your routine. your old best friend was slowly walking ahead of you. after the gray hair set in, together with the arthritis you decided to stop the running you did with him. your leash was loosely held in your left hand, while your right hand was in your hoodie pocket. playing around with the little plastic bags you brought with you.

while you usually stay on the path, you left it to take a left turn, reaching an old wooden and rotten picnic table, with a bench. sitting down, you whistled to call the old man over.

„hey, baby, are you tired yet? don’t worry, we will go home soon.“ making sure to give him extra pets, his tail wagging in a obvious excited way. poor guy was out of breath, even though barley 15 minutes passed. you couldn’t help the frown on your face, what were you without your dog?

after you made sure you gave your old friend all the love he deserved, you started your walk back home.

you safely got back on track and to be honest, you were happy you didn’t get lost for the 3rd time in a row.

and then it was there. the feelings of needles slowly piercing through your neck, a hot and than a cold wave washed through your body. you were being watched. slowly letting go of the breath you were holding, you turned to your right side.

when you were younger, smaller, stupider, you were upset that nothing ever happens here. fantasy of action and drama taking place here were stuck in your mind. not anymore though. now you were counting on it. like right now. because what you saw, made you question your life in hawkins.

what you saw was a someone. a pretty boy, a beautiful man dressed in a complete white outfit. there was blood, so much blood. he gave you a death stare, like he was trying to explode you with his mind.

your ears were ringing.

you turned back towards your path and started rubbing your eyes dramatically. you did that for a good 5 minutes, to give a clear hint: you did not just see that. please, go away mystery man.

when you were, you turned to the right again, seeing no one. sighing with relief, you made your way back home, this time in a slightly faster walk. meanwhile, you tried to think of other routes you could take, besides the forest.

once you arrived home, you did the sensitiv thing of locking all your windows and doors. honestly, you were just trying to successfully repress the memory. you couldn’t help it though, you turned on your TV and the radio. maybe a serial killer was on the lose. but, who would have guessed, nothing came up.

hawkins was small and quite. if you thought of he definition of suburbs hawkins came up.

still, that didn’t stop you from thinking there’s something going on it the background. the vans which seemingly patrol the area, with hawkins electrics written on it, but no one ever called for them. how the lab in the forest was guarded by soldiers. how you could a hear a silent click, silent breathing on the phone once a call connected.

you believed in science, in facts, in things you could see. but conspiracy theories also have a special place in your heart. the truth is out there.

maybe that’s why it’s in the middle of the night and you’re back in the forest, this time without a dog. your flashlight in one hand, the other held a plate with leftovers. reaching the picknick table, you set down the plate.

„oh! i would really be a shame… if someone dressed in white would wat this. would be a shame to waste this.“

obviously, no one answered you. you looked around, only darkness. looking at the plate, with the fork and knive, you took the knife. self defence or whatever. you’re not that stupid, that you would give a potentially dangerous stranger a knife.

ok, now the true challenge came with finding your way back home

#stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader #henry creel x reader #robin buckley x reader #eddie munson #robin buckley #henry creel #001 x reader #stranger things

[papermint-airplane]

I'm alive!

More or less. 💀

Y'all oh my GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD I've had two terrible weeks for absolutely no reason whatsoever but I've got some Base Sim Project townies ready to go and I'll be putting them up VERY SOON. No concrete dates because last time I did that, everything went to shit. 🙃

Work has been absolutely grim lately and when I did get time to play, my game updated to the EA app and everything was fine at first until the first time it did its stupid little update routine (I forgot to disable auto updates) and it deleted all my settings and then I couldn't get the borderless window to work right and everything looked horrible and I still can't get it exactly right like it was before and I got so frustrated, I was about to yeet my computer, delete my blog, and throw myself down a well to live on algae and trash for the rest of my life. A perfectly rational level-headed response. (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻ So I took a break from Tumblr for a bit. Not by choice, it's just that all my spoons were gone and all I had left were stabby knives. It wasn't the right time for interacting with people. 😭😭😭

I think I got my game mostly looking right now though so my screenshots won't be in some godawful resolution with all these weird little artifacts everywhere. I have no idea what happened but if it happens again, some inanimate object in my vicinity is getting strangled. If work can stop being the bane of my existence and I can actually have like five fucking minutes to enjoy life for fucking once, I'll be back to my regular barely-stable-but-at-least-present self.

I have a lot of blog subs to catch up on my dash. Y'all are fixing to get so many notifications from me just liking all the posts I've missed.

#tangentially sims related #ramblings #istg #life is stupid #but i'm back #i get more southern the more exasperated i am

[whumping-in-the-wings]

As usual, this took forever to get done, and I’m still not entirely pleased with it. This series is turning out so plot-heavy, which was not my intention. But, also as usual, I’m just going to roll with it anyway.

CW: dehumanization, depictions of abuse, manipulative whumper, mild ableism

Taglist: @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @finaldreams1106, @redwingedwhump, @whumpy-catfish, @kixngiggles, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams (as always, let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list!)

Traces: Part Eight

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The next morning dawned cold and gray, with the sharp, sweet smell in the air that promised rain to come. There were few leaves left on the trees now, and thin films of ice on the well and the water-barrels; soon enough the weather would be too rough for hunting, or any other sport, and the month or two of merriment that always followed the harvest would fade away as the castle settled down to the dull quietness of winter.

But it wasn’t winter yet, and despite the chill of the morning, Sir Aubrey Gravesend left his chambers in high spirits, not least because of the plentiful amounts of ale that had been consumed in the great hall the night before. He was almost whistling as he made his way out into the courtyard, stopping only when he came within earshot of the stable. The groom was nowhere to be seen- still drunk, most likely, as a large number of the castle’s residents were- but one of the stable-lads was coming back with a bucket of water.

“You, boy,” Aubrey called out, lips curving up in his usual half-smile at the way the boy, eyes wide, scrambled to set down the bucket. A moment later, his eyes went even wider at the rest of Aubrey’s command. “Bring me my centaur.” There was little to do but obey when the lord of the manor gave an order, and the boy, though clearly more than a little nervous, quickly disappeared into the darkness of the stable to do as he had been told.

The sly half-smile almost turned into a satisfied full one when the boy returned, leading the centaur stallion. There seemed to be a new weight on the creature’s shoulders this morning, a tired resignedness that hadn’t had been present before; he was still limping slightly due to the arrow-wound, letting himself be led as docilely as a spring lamb. Though he still had that aggravating way of meeting Aubrey’s eyes with his own odd, inhuman ones. He’d have to be broken of that habit before long, but that would come in time. There was other breaking to be done before then.

“Make yourself scarce,” Aubrey advised the lad, and that proved an order the boy was only too happy to obey, passing the rope around the centaur’s neck into Aubrey’s hand and scampering off with a wary, sidelong glance at the powerful muscles beneath the beast’s dark coat. The centaur threw his head up at the feel of Aubrey’s fingers, eyes narrowed and nostrils flared, and Aubrey gave the rope a warning jerk.

That was all he had time to do before another familiar figure stepped around the centaur’s side, one hand propped up at the hip and the other wrapped around a long, sturdy cane. Aubrey grinned, his high spirits lifting even further. “Looks as though you’re not the only one limping around here,” he told the centaur, patting the creature’s side and savoring the small flinch he received in return. Then he raised his voice. “Hello, Cyra. When did you get back?”

He’d always been oddly fond of his peppery stablemaster, despite the sword-blade she had for a tongue. Cyra Swann was a curiosity, one that had always added a bit of interest to the otherwise dull, mundane routines of Aurenside Manor. And though she said things to him that no one else would have ever dared to say, in ways that no one else would have ever dared to say them, he was a fair enough man to admit that she was remarkably good at her job for a cripple.

In typical Cyra fashion, she grunted her answer to his greeting. “I was back last night. Came in with no trouble, seeing as how you and your men were paying more attention to the cellars than the gates. Where’s your stripling shadow this morning, then?”

“Sterling? Still sleeping off last night somewhere, I imagine.”

“Which is where you ought to be. You smell like a tavern and you’re nearer drunk than sober. Fine things for a lord, I’m sure.”

Her wit never seemed to fail her. There were times when Aubrey would have given something, to have that particular gift. But she was still no match for the ale in his blood, and her acid tone did little to dampen his spirits. Aubrey gestured to the centaur, proud of his prize all over again now that he had someone new to boast of it to. “Well? You’re the master of horseflesh here, Mistress Swann. What do you make of him?”

“I saw him last night when I came in,” Cyra answered dryly. “I was hoping I’d wake up to find I dreamed it. And I don’t know what to make of him, but I know just what he’s going to make of you.”

He almost laughed at that. “Do you, now? And what might that be?”

“A damn fool, and well you know it,” Cyra shot back, a touch more sharply than he had come to expect, even from her. “You can’t make an animal out of him, Your Lordship, no matter how long you treat him like it. There’s a second side to him, and you’ll never break that one.”

“Just because no one’s ever done it doesn’t mean it can’t be done. What’s the harm in trying?”

Cyra scoffed. “Let’s hope you don’t find out.”

Groaning slightly, she crossed to a bale of straw near the door and lowered herself gingerly down, taking up a worn set of reins and starting to mend it, her interest in this subject clearly waning. “So what is it you’re out to do this morning, you on your path to greatness? Leap right onto his back and see how long you can cling there before he throws you off and tramples you?”

Now Aubrey did laugh. “Slowly, Cyra, slowly! You of all people ought to know one takes their time with such things. I’m just going to put him through his paces a bit, see what he can do. He might not be as much of a task as you think. Look at him, he’s half broken already.”

There was an odd flash in Cyra’s eyes, an odd twist to her lips before she answered. “That’s not broken, Aubrey Gravesend. That’s biding time.”

Aside from her tongue and her temper, Cyra was not usually what one would call an unsettling person. But there was something unsettling in the way she’d said that, as though she knew something that made her certain her words were true. In spite of himself, Aubrey stole another glance at the centaur’s eyes. But they still held that same weary, glazed-over look, with nothing at all behind them, and he dismissed the moment of apprehension.

His next glance was for Cyra, still sitting there outside the stable, obviously intending to watch the proceedings. He hadn’t expected an audience this morning; in truth, he didn’t know exactly what he wanted to do yet, how he ought to begin with something like this. Every horse he’d ever owned had come to him ready and willing for anything he might ask of them. If they didn’t, it fell to Cyra to handle the rest. All he’d ever had to do was the only thing he ever did: do exactly as he pleased, and trust the rest to fate.

Fate- Cyra, in this case- was clearly not interested in intervening here. She’d already made it obvious how much of an idiot she thought him for even attempting this. He would have to take matters into his own hands.

As it happened, matters very nearly slipped out of his hands a second later. A door slammed from somewhere inside the manor, accompanied by a loud burst of drunken laughter. The centaur startled and jerked backward, nearly pulling the rope from Aubrey’s distracted hands.

He reacted on instinct, seizing the rope again, pulling it hard enough to nearly throw the creature to his knees. “Be still, you worthless thing!” The centaur struggled back to his feet with one of those small sounds of pain he always tried so hard to hide, prancing uneasily at the end of the rope.

But it was Cyra’s reaction, out of the corner of his eye, that seized Aubrey’s attention. Despite her crippled legs, she’d gripped her cane and half risen to her feet as quickly as her body would allow her, her eyes as wide as the centaur’s and holding a peculiar expression in them.

An expression so unlike Cyra that it took Aubrey a moment before he could put a name to it. It was sympathy, he realized. Cyra, the unconquerable Cyra Swann, who had never shown so much of a glimpse of a heart behind the hardened callousness that covered her like armor, pitied the creature.

Aubrey’s lips curved upward again. This was unexpected. But this, he could do something with.

“All right, there, Cyra?” he asked innocently, tightening his grip on the rope. She looked startled for a moment, as though she hadn’t meant to betray herself by getting to her feet. But she recovered swiftly, planting her hand on her hip.

“All right if you’re trying to break his leg,” she shot back, sounding more or less like the Cyra he was accustomed to. But it would do no good, now; she’d shown her hand, and he wasn’t about to forget it.

“I know what I’m doing, Cyra,” he retorted, allowing just the slightest edge to creep into his voice. She didn’t dignify that with an answer, turning her focus back to the bridle she was mending. It wouldn’t matter. For all her feigned disinterest, he could tell she was still watching out of the corner of her eye. He had her attention now; all he had to do was keep it.

So he tightened his grip around the rope again, and in one single, devastatingly quick motion, pulled back with all the force he could manage. The centaur’s injured leg buckled backward; he went down hard with a sharp cry of pain. One that Aubrey interrupted with a furious curse, as though this wasn’t exactly what he had intended.

But it was Cyra who drowned them both out, her voice ringing like a vesper bell. “Mercy on us! What in damnation are you trying to do? If you meant to kill him, you could have done that before you ever brought him back here!”

Somehow, whenever she spoke to him, she had a way of saying things as though they ought to have “you blithering idiot” tacked onto the end of them, and yet never did. Right now, he didn’t mind it. “I told you, Cyra, I know what I’m doing.”

“And I’m telling you, as someone who does know what they’re doing when it comes to something like this, you clearly don’t. I’m not going to stand by and watch this in my stable, Your Lordship. I swear I’m not.”

They were brave words. But even as she said them, he could see in her eyes that she already knew how little they meant. How little she could really do to stop him.

She glanced at the centaur again, another of those odd, soft, un-Cyra-like looks flashing briefly in her eyes. Then she turned her gaze back to Aubrey. “Leave him be for today. You won’t be able to do anything with him after that. If you’re so dead set on this idea, stupid as it is, I might as well help you do it without murdering the poor thing.”

And just like that, he had her.

“If you like,” he said carelessly. “It’s all one to me.”

He kept his smile off his face, this time, but if he could have shown it, it would have taken up a great deal more than half his face. With Cyra Swann to aid him, his own inexperience would no longer matter. He’d have the results he wanted by Christmas, and hopefully, soon after, the recognition he so craved.

He did wonder, a little, in the back of his mind, why Cyra suddenly cared so much, after she’d spent so long pretending not to care for anything at all. Why she seemed to know something he didn’t, where those brief traces of softness and sympathy in her eyes had come from.

A man who was older and wiser might have thought about it a little longer, might have let those wonderings turn into suspicions. But Aubrey Gravesend was not the kind of man to think very long about anyone other than himself, and so the thought was gone soon after it came, drifting past unnoticed like the gray wisps of cloud in the sky.

#whump #whump writing #medieval whump #fantasy whump #nonhuman whump #centaur whump

[slayingstan]

Rebound, Part 3

(random disclaimerrrr: quick thanks to ryan coogler for giving us these amazing moviess, thanks to all the actors, thanks to the fandom who always seem to bounce back, thanks for yall u guys r great supporters and i will continue to write for yall as much as possible! <3 now lets get into the story ) 

PLAY RIHANNA'S ANTI-ALBUM, WHOLE THING

Shuri's Pov:

"We nuh rise and boast yea!" Shuri sang gleefully in the shower, there's no better way to prepare for your first date than to sing in the shower. (in every universe letitia is a koffee stan)

"Princess Shuri, you must be ready within the next hour." A robotic tone spoke through a speaker in the bathroom. 

"Thank you Griot!" Shuri responded.

She continued to sing as she washed the conditioner out of her hair. She finished bathing and turned off the water. She stepped out and wrapped herself in her terry cloth robe.

She took out her retainers, yes she wore retainers at her big age, and she brushed her teeth and continued singing into the next song.

Soon enough the easy hygienic parts of her routine was done, here came the hard part. Finding an outfit to wear.

Shuri didn't think about her outfits too often, she mostly went for practicality. However, this situation needed some special attention. She needed to look amazing and as she had put in effort, while being effortless. 

And here she was, pacing around her closet. She had suits, sets, and plain items. Due to the occasion she didn't want to be too fancy. They were supposed to do something casual and intimate. They had planned a picnic. They had a food basket prepared for the two of them and they were going to a park in Arlington.

With the help of M'baku, she had pulled out a beige flannel, a white turtleneck shirt, and a pair of black wide leg sweatpants. 

"You are going on a date, actually?! I thought i'd never see the day, little sister." M'baku said excitedly.

"Don't act so surprised, I'm already scared." Shuri responded. 

"Make sure you are safe, if that little genius makes me upset, send her back to Wakanda. Trust, she will be dealt with." M'baku said in classical brotherly fashion. 

Shuri was happy with the support she was receiving but then she once more was overwhelmed by some bitter thoughts. She wished it was actually her brother talking to her about this. She still hadn't completely wrapped her mind around him being gone. Along with the loss of her brother, she had lost her mother as well. She wouldn't be there at her wedding, or baby showers, or holidays. And of course she had people who she had considered her family, but she just wished she had the lights of her life back. 

M'baku noticed the glint of sorrow in Shuri's eyes. He sighed along with her.

"He would've loved her. You know your mother did. If they were here in this moment they would be rushing you out of the door for this date. I know I'm not him, but I hope I can help fill this void you are feeling little sister. I know your date will be amazing so I am taking initiative and letting you know you should be on your way now." M'baku had tried his best to provide Shuri with a stable support system, the world had taken entirely too much from her. 

Shuri felt a small tear slip from her eye and she quickly brushed it away and took a deep breath. "You're right, I need to go. Thank you so much, but I really do need to get going." Shuri spoke and quickly embraced the gorilla man and began her brisk walk to the aircraft. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riri's Pov:

"Viv, can you go a little faster." Riri spoke urgently.

Riri was being impatient as her edges were being brushed down. "I have a date to be on!"

"Listen, maybe this would go faster if you could do your own hair Ri. But I'm done" Vivian finished up.

"Alright! I need to find an outfit to wear, I don't want to overdress." Riri was stressing, unlike her counterpart.

"Well you are going to a park so some nice casual clothes would be nice." Vivian spoke.

"Ok good choice. I have this beige sundress I haven't worn in ages." Riri went to her drawer and pulled out the dress.

"Ok wear that and your sandals." Viv completed the outfit for her. 

"Ok! Perfect, great, I'm totally not freaking out at all i just need to go get dressed." Riri spoke as she took the clothes and rushed into her bathroom. 

She felt as if she was about to have a panic attack over something so miniscule. She wanted to have a fresh start with Shuri and this was the perfect opportunity and didn't want to mess anything up.

Before she got her clothes on she decided to do a quick makeup look. She applied some sharp eyeliner, a dark blush, light highlighter, a brown lip liner and some pink-tinted gloss.

She soon slid on her sundress, and put her braids in low bun. The sundress had a cutout revealed the start of her spinal tattoo. Her skin was tanned due to the season, she looked her best.

She realized during her routine that she had gotten a whole lot more calm. So she walked out of her room and looked at her best friend sitting on her bed

"Alright Vivvy, how do I look?" She turned in the dress. 

"I mean, If I was your little girlfriend I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off of you. You are going to have an amazing date." Viv didn't understand how Riri could even question herself while looking so goddess like.

"I'm so ready for this date! It's the perfect clean slate." Riri felt comforted.

"So the real question is, are you guys going to fuck?" Vivian was tired of tiptoeing. 

Riri sighed undefeated, and flopped on the bed next to Viv.

"I mean I wouldn't mind it, I just don't think we should. The whole point of doing this is so we don't just have sex and call it a wrap." Riri spoke.

"Well I wish the best for you two-" Riri's phone dinged cutting off Vivian. 

"She's outside!" Riri jumped up. She put her sandals over her white painted toenails.

"Enjoy your date, I'll lock up your dorm for you." Vivian said, excited for her friend.

Riri smiled, hugging Viv and rushing out off her dorm. She walked all the way outside and saw a black car waiting for her, and in front of that car was Shuri. She looked delightful, her outfit was on the same level of casualty as Riri's, her hair was cleanly cut.

"How are we matching?" Shuri spoke first laughing, the mood was instantly set.

Riri laughed along side her, they met for a quick hug and Shuri opened the door for her. She sat and Shuri went along to the other side of the car, hopping in as well.

"Our food is in the backseat in that basket, I'm sure you will like everything in there. I have a spot at this lake. Everything should run smoothly." Shuri said relaxed as she began driving.

Riri's heart fluttered, this was really going to be an amazing date. "This is going to be so fun, sorry I'm sort of freaking out right now." 

Shuri just laughed and she focused on driving, she commanded Griot to play some good music. They had a good 30 minute ride in front of them, it was drove in a comfortable silence. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shuri's Pov:

They had pulled up to a secluded part of the lake. The car was parked on a patch a gravel. The car was still and she exited. She walked around opening the door for Riri. 

Riri stood up and stretched, she took a look at the area and it was perfect. 

Shuri got the picnic basket from the backseat as well as another bag. She held Riri's hand and the two began walking to the picnic spot, decorated with fake candles. 

"Pardon my awkwardness, this is my first time ever doing a thing like this." Shuri opened the bag and inside was a picnic blanket, she unfolded it. Alongside it were some small pillows.

Riri laughed. "I think you're doing an amazing job, Princess."

Shuri felt her cheeks flush. "Enough with the flattery, let's sit." She sat comfortably on the blanket, Riri said diagonally from her. 

Shuri opened the basket revealing a speaker, a fruit bowl, some italian picnic sandwiches, some assorted snacks and candies, a bottle of Rose Moscato, and some silverware and glasses.

Riri was in awe of the preparation. She had never felt this level of comfort and appreciation from a person. "You really went all out Shuri." 

"For you? Without a doubt I would. I'm so joyful that I have the chance to." Shuri paired her phone with the speaker, she played Rihanna's 'Anti' album.

The two began drinking and eating as the sun began to set. They looked so perfect together.

"Would you say you are a pessimist or an optimist?" Shuri said, sparking conversation between the two of them.

"Neither, I would say I'm a realist. I think it always depends on the situation and the facts never lie. So I usually work from there." Riri responded.

"I love that you always have a unique answer to a question." Shuri was delighted with Riri, she really felt like Riri was her other half.

Some time had past, and so had that whole bottle of wine. Shuri had packed everything back into the basket. The two sat together, it was darker outside. This is where things start to get more interesting. 

"We should swim. I want to swim." Riri said, tipsy.

"Girl, swim? I don't like saying no to you, but neither of us are dressed to swim." Shuri responded. 

"Well we have too choices, we can swim in our undergarments which is probably a safer option, or we can swim naked. It's your choice, but we're swimming either way." Riri said as she took her shoes off in preparation for swimming.

"Well I guess the first option. Why not swim in the dark while we are at a lake we've never been too before. This is some white people shit." Shuri spoke as she began shedding her clothes as well. 

Riri finally pulled off her dress, revealing her matching navy blue bra and panty set. Shuri finished undressing as well and was left in a sports bra and some boxer brief underwear with a decorative waistband. 

Riri stood up, reaching her hand towards Shuri to usher her to stand up as well. They walked a few feet away to the small beach with a thin layer of sand. The water splashed up the girl's ankles and they flinched from the temperature change.

Riri continued easing into the water while Shuri stayed a bit further back. She water was at Shuri's naval while it was almost to Riri's shoulders.

"Stop being a pussy, get in the water Shuri." Riri spoke.

Shuri just looked at Riri and shook her head, she didn't mind the water she just thought what they were doing was insane. 

Riri treadded towards Shuri, and she quickly grabbed Shuri's arm pulling her further into the water. Both of them ended up falling with a splash. Happily they were both great swimmers.

They both popped out of the water at the same time, they caught their breath. Both of them were both entirely soaked, Shuri shook her hair at Riri splashing her. The calm waves splashed against the two. 

The two were about 2 inches apart. Riri wrapped her arms around Shuri's neck. 

"I forgot how to swim." Riri said jokingly as an excuse to be closer to Shuri.

Their moment a silence was broken by a crash of thunder, the both of them jumped. Soon enough water was dripping on them overhead.

"Damn, way to kill the mood mother nature." As Shuri spoke thunder crashed once more.

After the second crash the girls began swimming back towards the sand and once they were on the beach again, the water was pouring. 

"Car's unlocked, go!" Shuri yelled throwing Riri all of the clothes.

Riri rushed to the car hopping in the passenger's seat, Shuri had to grab the picnic basket, but she quickly made it to the car as well.

Once they were both in the car, they broke into a fit of laughter. The series of overwhelming events was suddenly hilarious. 

"I'm not even upset, this is just all really random. This is the best first date I've ever had." Shuri spoke through her laughter. 

Riri agreed and laughed with Shuri then Shuri's kimoyo beads rung. They were cut off with a phone call. 

"Princess? There seems to be a terrible storm in the area, we aren't able to pick you up until tomorrow. Sorry for the inconvenience." Okoye's voice echoed through the car. 

Shuri laughed and rolled her eyes. "It's alright, I'll find somewhere to stay now by!" She hung up as quickly as she answered.

She sighed, she turned the car's heat on as she realized they were just sitting on cold leather. 

"You can stay at my dorm if you want- if you want to of course I totally understand if you don't want to." Riri offered. 

"I would love too, thank you. That's much easier than booking secure a hotel at this time of the night." Shuri said.

Before the two began to drive off, they put their clothes back on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riri's Pov:

Shuri was currently in the shower in Riri's dorm room. She had gotten out before her. 

The two had had a very eventful night and they were both exhausted. But this was the make it or break it moment, and hopefully nothing tempted either of them to have sex.

Shuri was taking ages in the shower, so Riri went and laid in the bed, making sure to leave space for Shuri. She scrolled mindlessly on tiktok, and eventually the same audio played over and over, suggesting she had fell asleep.

Soon enough Shuri made it out of the bathroom, she ended up throwing on some of Riri's shorts and a shirt, both were a bit short on her but it would do, she noticed Riri asleep so she turned off her phone, she laid next to her and pulled the blanket over both of them. 

This was a pretty solid first date.

#shuri x riri #lesbians #no smut #first date #swimming

[eveningstxrr]

hii!! i love ur account so much<33 could i request a lancelot x reader where reader is meliodas and elizabeth’s child and her, tristan and lancelot have a sleepover and lancelot and reader end up cuddling eachother? tysm<3

✮ ˛˚ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ✮ ˛˚

synopsis: the tristan platoon are supposed to be having a sleepover together, and as the prince’s younger sibling, naturally you’re invited to join them. however, lancelot is there too and he makes it his goal to get on your nerves. but, there’s nothing a good cuddle can’t fix!

content warning: fluff, ooc lancelot since he’s relatively new to me, reader is tristan’s younger sibling, lance and the reader bicker a lot.

author’s note: i’m glad you enjoy my content, thank you for this request anon!! i hope it’s up to your taste!! like i said, lance is new to me so he might be a bit out of character, but i really enjoyed writing for him!!

word count: 2.4k

✮ ˛˚ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✮ ˛˚

IT’S A FAIRLY NORMAL DAY IN LIONES, you’re out and about doing your normal royal duties which consists of assisting the villagers, dropping off some weird magical artifacts and herbs for hendrickson, assisting more villagers. you know, the usual. by the time you’re finished with all your duties, it’s dusk and you’re covered in grime and sweat.

you wave goodbye to the nice family you were helping out before mounting your horse alexander to head back to the castle, your pace is much slower than what you usually go by. you want to get home as soon as possible to take a nice long bath and get something to eat, sure, but at the same time, you longed to watch as the sun descended behind the clouds. it’s not everyday you get to do that with how busy you are nowadays.

your mind wanders as you ride. you take in the cool breeze, shivering when the wind blows a little too harshly. if you catch a cold neither your mother nor your older brother would let you hear the end of it. they’d baby you ‘till you can no longer stand it.

speaking of your brother, you wonder what he’s up to. ever since he was officially established as a knight of the apocalypse, you’ve barely seen him. he’s either out doing one thing or the other with his platoon or training to get stronger.

truth be told, you miss being able to do runs like these together. you sigh sadly as you recount the times you guys would prolong your outings to get some snacks or watch the sun set, sometimes you guys would wait ‘till the sky is filled with nothing but the twinkling stars. your father would always give you both an earful but he gave up after a while seeing as it was reoccurring. it became routine. but now, you can barely say good morning to tristan, sometimes you don’t see him for days on end. it’s lonely but you don’t want to express that empty feeling, he’s busy enough as is. you’ll just spend your days playing with the children of the village to pass time.

as the castle comes into view, you slow down even more, taking your sweet time before you’ll have to depart from your beloved steed. “welcome back, your highness,” the guards at the castle’s entrance greet as you trot in. you wave to them as you hop off alexander's back, leading him over to the stables where the horse tender takes him off your hands.

you stretch, popping your back and shoulders as you walk down the large halls of liones castle, heading up to your room to take a quick bath. by the time you’re out and ready to relax, the sun is out of view and the moon has begun to peek out from the horizon. “the days seem to be going faster now,” you mummer, “winter is closely approaching.”

you shut the door to your room behind you as you make your way to the kitchen. your stomach had been growling throughout your bath and the maid helping you had left to prepare something as per your request. as you draw near to the grand kitchen, you hear hushed whispers and little squeals which elicits a raised eyebrow of curiosity.

you peek into the kitchen, and lo and behold, your brother and his platoon are there all dressed in comfortable pyjamas as they gather some snacks. your snacks. you love your brother, you really do, but nobody takes your snacks.

“i’m gonna whoop his—“

“what’re you doing, y/n?”

you let out a screech, your soul almost leaving your body. you turn back to face the person who’d come up behind you, and your eyes meet lancelot’s ruby ones. he looks down at you, his arms are crossed over his chest, and he has an eyebrow raised in his typical sassy fashion.

“lancelot, you scared me…” you huff out, standing up straight. you awkwardly scratch the back of your head. this is not a good look for you.

“you should’ve heard me coming up behind you. don’t tell me you’ve been getting sloppy with your perceptive skills, your highness,” he leans closer to you, getting far too close for your liking.

“of course not! i was just… preoccupied,” you lie through the skin of your teeth, turning your head away to stare into the dimly lit hallway. lancelot says nothing in response, but gives you a teasing smile in return.

“sure, princess. sure.” he obviously doesn’t believe you. he pats your shoulder and walks into the kitchen, his hands in his pockets and back hunched in terrible posture just like his dad. god these two are so alike.

“princess y/n!” isolde squeals in delight, engulfing you in a warm hug the minute you step into the kitchen. you can’t help but grin when she scoops you into her arms, holding you off the floor to nuzzle her cheeks against yours. isolde gives the best hugs, hands down.

“hey, isolde. long time no see, eh?”

from the corner of your eye, you see jade waving to you and next to him is chion who just gives you a stare before turning his attention back to your older brother. typical.

“y/n! when did you get back?” tristan is quick to give you his own hug when isolde sets you back onto your feet. you wrap your arms around him and take a moment to relish in his warmth before answering his question.

“about an hour ago. i was in the bath.”

your brother hums in response, giving you a squeeze before he pulls away. “we were about to have a sleepover, would you like to join us?”

a sleepover, huh? that explains the pj’s and the snack theft. but, it sounds like a nice way to unwind. why not? it wouldn’t hurt, right? you follow after the tristan platoon and lancelot as you all make your way to your brother’s bedroom, the site for the sleepover tonight.

“i’m surprised you stuck around, lance,” you look towards the blonde who scratches his nape, heaving a sigh at the nickname. he doesn’t dislike it, really. he finds the intimacy in nicknames quite comforting, but when you call him that, he gets all nervous and jittery. he hates that feeling, it’s too out of character for him.

“didn’t i tell you not to call me that?”

you let out a huff at his comment. he should know by now that you’ll use every opportunity you have to annoy him. “aw but, lance,” you make sure to stress the name, silently snickering when he side eyes you, his face bearing an exasperated expression. “i’ve been calling you this since we were in diapers! why does it matter now?”

lancelot rolls his eyes at you, your shit eating grin serving to piss him off further. however, he makes no move to speed up his walking pace, it’s not like he’s actually mad at you. a little annoyed, sure, but, you’re the only one in the group he can actually stand so he might as well swallow the teasing. “cram it, princess.”

you let out a fake gasp of offence, dramatically placing your hand onto your chest. “lancelot! how vulgar!” you hear tristan snicker as lancelot lets out a loud groan in response to your antics.

when the lot of you finally reach the prince’s bedchamber, jade is quick to run in and flop onto the big mattress, sighing in content as he practically melts into the cotton. you follow suit and cuddle up to one of the pillows. the familiar smell of lavender immediately engulfs you and fills your senses, bringing back nostalgic memories that run as far back to your toddler days.

you clutch the pillow tight, thanking whatever deity that’s out there for allowing you this chance. they must have taken pity on you when you were reminiscing earlier and granted this opportunity. when the space beside you dips, you look over to see lancelot and notice how he still has his shoes on, not caring if the white bed sheets get dirty because of them.

“how crude of you to get on the bed with shoes on. dirty shoes no less.” lancelot’s left eye twitches at the jab you’d made. you’re seriously making him contemplate not being as nice to you as he normally is. so much for being the most tolerable one of the group.

“i suggest you watch what you say to me, princess,” he folds his arms over his chest, kicking off his shoes nonetheless. you cringe when they hit the wall with a thunk.

“what will you do if i don’t, hm, lance?” you egg him on, shooting him a pointed look. he scoffs at you.

“you really want to find out, princess?”

“alright, you two, no more fighting!” isolde scolds from her place at the foot of the bed, her cheeks puffed out in a pout. tristan nods in agreement.

“isolde’s right, we’re here to have fun and relax. put your bickering aside for tonight, please?”

you and lancelot side eye each other but grumble out your respective affirmations. tristan smiles at your compliance.

“now, let the fun begin!!”

remember when you said that partaking in this sleepover wouldn’t be a bad thing? yeah, you take that back. wanna know why? lancelot made it his mission to annoy you tonight.

you’re playing hide and seek? he’s making sure to scout you out first. you’re playing card games? get ready to lose five times in a row. it’s like he gets off at your misery. maybe you should ask his mom to teach you how to conceal your thoughts because this is just getting ridiculous.

“aaaand, i win, again! you really suck at this, princess,” lancelot gives you a smug smirk and it takes all your self restraint to not jump over the table and start brawling with him, but you’d probably lose at that too, so you just pout in annoyance instead.

“that’s just by luck, don’t get cocky!”

“mhm, sureeeeee.”

sensing that your patience has thinned considerably, tristan is quick to intervene. you really might start a fight with lancelot and that’s the last thing you all need. meliodas would definitely give you an earful about how “you need to conduct yourself with decorum,” even though he acts the exact same when your uncle ban pisses him off.

“how about we head to bed? it’s gotten really late,” the silver-haired prince smiles, already packing away the cards.

“oh come on, what’s one more round? the princess seems to be dying for another rematch.”

lancelot disregards the glare you send his way, your brother sighs. “y/n, do you want to play one more round?”

you see a flicker of pleading pool in his different coloured eyes and shake your head. you’ll get lancelot back at your own time, you guess.

“aw, scared i’ll kick your ass again, your highness?”

“shut the fuck up or i’ll shove those cards up your ass,” you hiss at him.

“oh, yeah? how crude of you to speak in such a vulgar way, princess.”

your eye twitches in response to his teasing and isolde is quick to hold you back from doing something you would most definitely regret when morning comes.

“that’s enough! to bed, both of you!”

you pout when tristan takes on a scolding tone of voice, grumbling about how lancelot started it. the man in question just shrugs. if all he had to do was annoy you to get so many cute reactions from you, he might as well make it into a habit. you already do this with him everyday, surely you can take what you dish out.

finally, you all settle into the king sized bed all ready to fall asleep, but there’s one tiny problem. lancelot is right behind you, breathing down your neck. when isolde suggested you all cuddle up on tristan’s bed, you didn’t mind being squished together with your childhood friends and your older brother, but having lancelot behind you was not ideal. it’s not like you hate him or anything, really, you don’t. it’s the opposite actually. you like him, that’s the problem, and you fear that he can hear your heart palpitating or he can hear your thoughts spiralling out of control at how close he is. you can feel his warmth bleeding into your skin. he’s so, so warm.

“can you please stop thinking so loud, princess? it’s hard to get some shut eye when all i hear is how warm i am.” your soul almost leaves your body when lancelot whispers into your ear, his breath tickling your sensitive skin. you want to crawl into a hole and die there.

“…sorry.”

lancelot can’t hold back the chuckle that escapes him and wraps an arm around you. he leans in close enough to give you a teasing peck on your neck, fully aware of how sensitive you are. “go to sleep, princess.”

gosh, now there’s really no hope for you.

“aww, they’re so cute!!”

“shh… don’t wake them!”

you’re pulled out of your peaceful slumber at the hushed whispers around you. what the hell are the yapping about so early in the morning?

“shut your traps,” you hear lancelot’s voice come out in an annoyed grunt and feel his arms tighten around you. hold on, his what tightened around you?

your eyes flutter open and you see that you’re pressed against his chest, giving you a front row seat to the ethereal sight of the sun illuminating his face just right. wow, he really is a fairy. it’s not fair how beautiful he is, especially so early in the morning.

“like what you see, princess?”

when your eyes meet his ruby ones, you feel as if you’ve died and reached heaven. he grins down at you. you were too busy admiring him that you couldn’t even say anything back, huh?

“good morning to you too, i guess.”

you’re snapped out of your daze and push him away, quickly getting up and making up some half assed excuse before running out of the room. isolde chases after you, fully set on teasing you while the others, with the exception of chion, try to make sure the both of you don’t wake up the entire palace. lancelot chuckles, the image of your flustered face will forever be in the back of his mind. yeah, he could definitely get used to this.

@𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓𝐗𝐑𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬

#nanatsu no taizai #the seven deadly sins #mokushiroku no yonkishi #4kota #reader insert #4kota lancelot #4kota tristan #tristan platoon #✮ ˛˚ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✮ ˛˚ #✮ ˛˚ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒 ✮ ˛˚ #✮ ˛˚ 𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 ​✮ ˛˚

[french-unknown]

Hii... Can you please write something about Law, Shanks, Mihawk, Ace, and Sanji supporting and motivating s/o to study?

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: law, shanks, mihawk, ace, sanji 𝐂/𝐖: fluff 𝐀/𝐍: Hii! (‐＾▽＾‐） 𝐖/𝐂: 720 +

| m a s t e r l i s t |

𝐋𝐀𝐖

✧ Watchdog to make sure you work well.

✧ Not in the sense of stopping anyone from bothering you, no. He's there to stop you from going out until you're done.

✧ If you get distracted, he will remove the distraction. For example, if you're trying to start cleaning because "why not do that now?" then he will glare at you. You will see in his eyes the “Get to work!”.

✧ You cannot leave your office until you have achieved the objectives you previously gave him. Otherwise, he sends you back to your table even if it means using his devil fruit. He can be very stubborn.

✧ He doesn't just stand in the room watching you while doing nothing. He sits nearby to work in silence as well. It's surprisingly stimulating to see him concentrating on his own work just a few meters from you. As long as you don't stare at him, of course.

✧ As soon as you bring him your finished work, he lets you out with a smile.

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒

✧ He prefers to let you freely manage your revisions.

✧ He is not on your back to ask you how it's going or if you are progressing well. Academic studies aren't his thing so he doesn't see why it would be legitimate for him to lecture you on this point if you don't revise or simply don't put a lot of effort into it.

✧ HOWEVER, he doesn't like empty words.

✧ So, if you tell him that you will spend the day revising and he learns in the evening that you haven't done anything at all, you will probably end up with shades that will tingle.

“Where are you going? Oh yes, are you going to 'revise'?" He tells you, miming the quotes with his fingers.

✧ You can count on him to celebrate even the smallest of your accomplishments. Whether it's the end of revision for a subject, a good grade or good regularity, he never shrinks from festivities!

𝐌𝐈𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊

✧ He doesn't quite understand why you're so reluctant to study. He doesn't see the point in needing that much motivation.

✧ In his eyes, work—and therefore studies—involves a rigor that means you don't need motivation to do it.

✧ You just do it.

✧ But he unconsciously helps you in your revisions by first setting up a stable setting with a quiet place to work, ensuring that you are not disturbed and providing you with something to snack on.

✧ Above all, he is an asset by helping you establish a routine.

✧ You will no longer have trouble getting started because your work sessions are naturally integrated into your day so you no longer have any questions about when to begin. You have schedules, precise goals and everything.

𝐀𝐂𝐄

✧ He is all fired up to support you but from afar.

✧ He's the type to come see you every 5 minutes so, when you first started, he was constantly bothering you to kiss and cuddle you. It usually ended with him asking you to explain what you were doing or him complaining that he was bored.

✧ In any case, you both agreed to kick him out.

✧ He motivates you before you go there and he disappears completely from the moment you close the office door. During this time, he tries to make as little noise as possible.

However, he is always there to welcome you as soon as you open the door again. He is immediately on you asking how it went and to resume cuddling.

✧ It motivates you even more not to drag on with your revisions to get back to him.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈

✧ Will 100% help you so that you stay focused on your studies.

✧ Little hungry? He is there with snacks of all kinds. Thirsty? He immediately brings you a glass of water garnished with a mint leaf, lemon or even peach.

✧ Each time he leaves, he gives you a kiss on the top of your hair while wishing you good stydy session.

✧ He even creates special "study" rewards with special snacks that he gives you when you're done.

✧ He will be very happy to help you so don't hesitate to ask him. The slightest sprinkle of attention that could make him feel useful takes him straight to heaven. So, he's your man if you need to recite a text or need to hear it read. He's also there if you need an outside opinion.

He is your number one softie supporter.

𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @iheartamora @bontensh0e @opchara @lys-ada @viscade @dozcan123 @kai-wifey

#one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar law #law x reader #shanks #shanks x reader #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #portgas d ace #ace x reader #sanji #sanji x reader

[satyrcon]

so i'm finally recovering from covid. the past 5 or so days have been different circles of hell. the fever, the shivering, the raw throat, the congested nose and ears, the loss of taste and smell, the fatigue. in one week i've basically undone all of the hard work i've been doing all summer. i feel worse than i have had in months. and its a fucking shame.

but, on the other hand, i know that i won't be starting from 0 when i return to my regular routine. it'll feel like it, but i just have to continue staying consistent and not be so hard on myself for something i had little control over.

ive been thinking a lot. i mean - i always do. but now that its august, and the sun is swollen and the air is muggy, it's also the one year anniversary of the year from hell.

i've been thinking a lot about how during this time last year i was completely out of balance. i was working a job i hated, i was devoted to someone who hated my guts, i was friends with someone who very clearly did not see me as a friend. i had to cut them all off, or rather, be forced to cut them all off.

and it's been great. i've been happier, more focused, more aligned with success. are things perfect? not really, and i know that nothing will ever be, but for the past 8 or so months i have been pretty happy with the results of this change.

soon, i'll be put to the real test. i'm going to start my internship, land me a real job, meet new people. i've been in a new relationship, which has also made me very happy but also has set a new parameter for me. he's gentle, he's self assured, he doesn't fight for the sake of fighting. he's stable. and through him, i have also become more of these things, enjoying the quietness.

this time last year, i really wanted to die. now, i feel better.

i wish i could call up that one friend and try to get things back together, but in my heart, i know things are better unspoken. she betrayed me. why do i always have to be the nice one?