would you guys like shorter fics a.k.a faster updates or longer fics a.k.a spread updates?
I have a cute fic in the works and it’s good to go but it’s on the shorter side. I’m wondering what type of fics you enjoy reading more, 1-3k ish fics or 5k+?
I could always expand on a short fic later, but I’m wondering. Right now with my schedule it’s easier to write shorter fics and post them for y’all than wiping out a 6k fic. Let me know!
I’m going on a short trip so I will really really try to write some short fics and post them between today and Saturday before I go, or queue them up for you to get them during the weekend💖
hello everyone! sorry I’ve been gone from here for like a week. I had to take a social media break for my health but I’m back and I’m going to post a new Steve fic (tomorrow(probably(hopefully)))
i think y’all are really going to like it, so if you want to be tagged let me know ✨💖🥰
there’s this little steve blurb im writing but idk it seems like after every story that i post they flop even harder than before? hahah its a bit discouraging but at the end of the day i write bc i like creating stories however short or long they might be. i hope you all like this next one.
I took a long time posting the second part of the fake dating fic I know! It got really long out of nowhere lmao I’ll post it tomorrow probably but definitely before Christmas Eve! Let me know if you want to be tagged!
AN: this took me so long to publish but I really wanted this to be perfect so thank you for your patience. I love this story, I love these characters and I hope you do too. Let me know what you think. Feedback is always great! 
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CHAPTER 1
The sound of something bubbling in a cauldron and a strong smell fill the small room. There’s a physician tending to what could be assumed to be a potion, his face is focused and partly covered by long grey hair that is starting to grow whiter at the top. He is humming to himself, unaware of the young woman watching him from the open window. Waiting for him to leave before she gets caught, not that she ever gets caught, but one can ever be too careful. She’s not there for the potion brewing on top of the fire, no, her sight is on the yellow liquid inside tiny vials on the other side of the room. The antidote to a new flu that’s starting to spread around different kingdoms. The main villages, the big ones near the castles, have no problem dealing with it. Their physicians have access to the herbs and other ingredients necessary for the antidote, all of them provided by their kings who order them from far off lands. Smaller villages that are often overlooked by their rulers, don’t have the same privilege.
So here Emersyn is, stealing some vials from King Salazar’s physician to take to with her to the village of Westbelle. It was the village where she grew up in, the one that welcomed her every time she came back and the one that wasn’t wealthy enough to afford a cure for the flu. There haven’t been many affected by it, only 5 people so far but with the virus spreading so fast she wanted to get the vials to Westbelle’s physician, Milton, as soon as she could. A few of them would be enough, he was talented when it came to rationing ingredients as one has to be when things are so scarce.
The physician Emersyn had been spying on stops humming which makes her focus on him once more. He’s putting on green cloth gloves and taking the cauldron out of the fire, setting it aside and extinguishing the flames with a bucket of water. As he puts the bucket back by the barrel of water next to the door, there’s a knock. “Lyon? His Royal Highness is calling for you.”
“I’ll be right there.” Lyon says to the guard who had stepped inside the room, making Emersyn duck her head just enough to see but still avoid being seen.
The guard nods and stands by the door as Lyon stirs the potion a couple of times and adds some herbs. “That should do it. Let’s go, it needs to rest for two hours anyways.” Lyon opens the door and the guard follows, closing the door behind him and giving Emersyn the chance, she was hoping for.
She waits a couple of minutes before climbing in through the window, quiet as a mouse and her steps careful around the many cauldrons the physician has lying around as well as the jars on the shelves. She moves towards the yellow vials, reaching for one but noticing they aren’t sealed, so she walks to a nearby desk to look for cork stoppers. “Seriously Lyon, organize your desk.” Emersyn mutters to herself, opening drawers, moving papers and opening boxes to find what she was looking for. “Aha!”
In the last drawer there’s a clear jar full of cork stoppers, so maybe Lyon wasn’t that disorganized. She takes 8 vials, sealing them shut and double checking they won’t leak on her way back before carefully placing them in her backpack. Bells ring outside, from the chapel probably, and startle Emersyn who takes a step back and knocks down an empty cauldron. She turns around and is glad that the cauldron barely made any noise, that is until it starts to roll away towards a shelf full jars with ingredients. Emersyn flinches as five jars fall to the floor and break making a racket, then the door bursts open. With a deep breath, Emersyn turns towards the guards by the door and smiles.
“Good morning, boys.” She crosses her arms behind her back.
“Let us see your hands, thief! Return whatever it is you stole, immediately!” The guard on the right demands, pointing his sword towards her. He’s tall and blond, his eyes are dark brown and determined. The guard by his side though, looks like he’s about to pass out by the nervous look in his eyes.
Emersyn puts her hands up, leaving them close to her bow and arrows. “Come on, no need to make a scene. It’s such a nice day outside.”
“We don’t care, now, put t-that bow on the floor and h-hand over the backpack.” The nervous guard manages to get out which makes the thief smile.
“No can do, boys. Like I said, the weather is lovely outside, so I might just enjoy the outdoors.” Emersyn takes her bow and arrow, shooting one at the tall ceiling in the physician’s office, just above the window. There’s a rope tied at the end of it which she uses to climb towards the window, at a speed that’s helped her escape in many occasions. How her arrows hold her weight? Emersyn doesn’t know, an old lady in her village says they’re probably cursed but Emersyn doesn’t mind if it gets her out of situations like these.
“Stop that thief!” She hears the guards yell but pays them no mind as she climbs out of the window and uses two arrows to climb towards the roof. The red roof tiles have lost some of their color from the sun and crack slightly as Emersyn steps on them and starts to run.
The kingdom’s alarm goes off and she hears guards start to follow her. Turning her head to look back, she sees that there was a door near a watch tower which the guards had used to get on the roof. “Where was that door when I needed it?” She rolls her eyes and picks up the pace, scanning her surroundings, thinking about her next move. To her left the roof forms an L shape but there is another watchtower with a door. Emersyn assumes more guards will come out of it any moment now, so the left side is not an option. She looks straight ahead and smiles as she spots a tall tree. It would be a big jump, she thinks, but I might make it. Grabbing the arrow and the rope, Emersyn takes aim as she nears the end of the roof jumping as far from it as she can manage before shooting her arrow at the tree she had spotted. She holds on tightly to the rope, yelling at the strain of being pulled by it and cursing at the splinters she’s getting from the trees branches as she sinks halfway on them.
“Follow her!” The same blond guard from before yells after her. “Now!”
“Good luck.” Emersyn smirks, climbing down the tree and starting to run west.
She’s weaving through the trees left and right to use them as cover, and she manages to get a little more than a mile between her and her pursuers before she hears the distant sound of horses galloping behind her. She scans her surroundings, the river still flows on her far right, so she makes so sure to avoid it in case the guards decided to chase her using their boats as well. Instead, Emersyn decides to move closer to the mountains knowing the high ground will give her an advantage against the guards and their horses. Just as she finds a path towards the uneven rocks at the base of the mountain though, a low growling reaches her ears, this sound closer than the horses in her pursuit.
“No, not them again.” Emersyn mutters, picking up her pace knowing that the other party chasing her were much faster than horses.
Here’s the thing, ever since Emersyn had to fend for herself on her own, some strange creatures stared chasing her. They had the body of wolves and the head of a lion, their fur was grey and green and their fangs looked incredibly sharp. Most importantly, they always managed to find Emersyn no matter where she went. They could lose her trail for a couple of days before they were on her tail once more. Lately though, they were getting even better at finding her, managing to do so in at least a day and sometimes in less than twelve hours.
A glance backwards confirms her fears and she forces herself to run even faster when the creatures jump over some hedges and get close to her. Emersyn is breathless but she has to get to those rocks and try to get away, she also doesn’t want to shoot any arrows at them because they look like huge kittens and she doesn’t want to hurt them. The creatures, however, seem to have no qualms about hurting her. Once Emersyn gets close enough to the rocks at the base of the mountain, she decides to shoot an arrow as high up as she can with the rope attached to it so she can use it as support to climb. The creatures catch up though and are fast enough to jump on the rocks leading up to where she’s hanging in the air. Emersyn stops mid climb and swings towards a nearby pine tree, knowing that it would be harder for the creatures to follow her that way. She curses at the splinters she gets on her fingers but wastes no time while climbing higher up, the creatures growling and jumping below her as they try to reach her. Trying to come up with a plan as fast as possible, Emersyn scans her surroundings and smiles when she spots a path up a very steep and rocky hill to her right. Taking a deep breath, she takes another arrow and shoots it towards the path. She makes sure the arrow is secure and she ties the end of yet another rope on a branch before using her backpack to get from the tree to the mountain once more, grunting when the rope gives out and she almost falls down towards the creatures. Taking the arrow and the rope with her, she starts to climb up the steep path thankful for the creatures not being able to reach it. One glance back makes her unaware of a downward slope at the top of the path and she slips towards a dark cave, which’s dark tunnel leads out to the middle of two big mountains.
There is a tall tower next to a lake and surrounded by several apple and orange tress. The tower is grey, with vines and wildflowers growing on the bottom and slowly making their way towards the top. Its roof is light blue and easily lost in the color of the sky and several golden details around the windows look like they have faded throughout the years. Emersyn hears the creatures snarl again in the distance and that is enough to get her running once more. She makes her way to the tower, grabbing onto the vines to climb and reach the open window on the easter side of the tower. There is a faint smell of roasted vegetables in the air as Emersyn gets closer to it before gracefully jumping in. She turns around and glances out of the window to see if she had been followed but there is no one out there except for her, and a beautiful view. Emersyn can see hints of the sea to her left beyond the mountain, the sun which is starting to get lower, gleams on the water like diamonds. Emersyn has little time to appreciate the view though, because suddenly there is a sharp pain on the side of her head, and everything turns into darkness.
--
Four voices speak up from their place in the tower’s kitchen.
“Is she the one that matches your heart Harrison?” That is Jeffrey the pitcher, his tone is excited as he sees the only other person he’s ever encountered since his time in the tower.
“Will she get you out of here?” Daria the oven speaks up next, the oven door squeaking the tiniest bit as it moves with each word.
“But he doesn’t know how to control his powers yet! He never uses them.” The grumpy voice of the clock, Martin, matches its reprimand towards the prince. Although he is fairly annoying with its need to follow rules, he has taught many life lessons to the prince as grew up during the last few years.
“Hush!” Stephen, the stool that is usually by the window, interrupts Martin before he can lecture the prince further, getting them all back to the matter at hand. “Harrison, why did you hit her?!”
“I panicked okay!” The prince says. “It’s been 6 years since I’ve seen another human and I am paranoid.”
Harrison had hit the girl that jumped through his window with a pot. Guilt fills his heart, but she had startled him and seeing as he had been making dinner, the pot was the closest object he could use to defend himself. His friends though, are more interested in knowing if she is the person his fairy godmother had said would rescue him, than on the fright she had given him. The prince had been humming to himself as he put more vegetables into his stew, the cozy atmosphere of the kitchen keeping him at ease and more cheered up than he usually is. It had taken him months before getting used to living in the tower and making the place feel like a home, but deep down he knows nothing will compare to the warmth and love that has filled his kingdom.
The prince gently moves the girl so sits on a chair, he also puts her backpack as well as her bow and arrow out of reach from her so that she doesn’t put an arrow through him when she wakes up. He keeps the pot on one hand as the other moves the hair that had fallen over her unconscious face away from her eyes and- “Wow.” Harrison breathes out. The prince is sure he has never seen someone so beautiful.
He feels a nudge on his leg as his dog Chip sits on his side also assessing the intruder. The chocolate Labrador nudes his leg again, as if urging him to wake her up but Harrison pays him no mind. He isn’t sure what to say when she does wake, or what she’ll do when she figures out she knocked her out with a pot.
“She’s beautiful.” Stephen says, to which the rest of Harrison’s friends agree.
The prince nods in a daze as his eyes scan the intruder’s face. She has thick dark waves, her skinned is beautifully tanned and kind of freckly, he assumes she spends a lot of time in the sun. There is a line that’s starting to form between her eyebrows, like she furrows them a lot and her eyelashes are both long and dark and fan out above her cheeks. Just as the prince leans closer to her face, the girl wakes up with a start which startles him and makes him drop the pot while his hands catch fire for a second.
Harrison’s mind short-circuits for a moment. Purple eyes. She has purple eyes, and now she’s speaking, what is she saying?
She is furrowing her eyebrows at him. Harrison makes a mental note that he was right before about that as tilts her head in a questioning manner. Her gaze shifts from him to his hands. “Wow you must have hit me really hard on the head or did your hands really just catch fire?” She shakes her head soon after her question and scans her surrounding as she stands up. “You know what? I don’t have time for that. Thank you for hitting me in the head with your pot but I have something very important to do.”
She’s wearing dark green pants, a long shirt black and a wide brown belt that has small pockets here and there. Her clothes are mended in several places and her black boots are covered in so much mud they are practically brown. There are scrapes on her hands as well as multiple cuts and splinters, but Harrison can’t stare any longer because she’s side stepping him and heading for the kitchen.
He sees her spot her backpack where he had place it before, on the floor by the kitchen table and near Clemence to look after. “No, you can’t leave!” Harrison says trying to stop her, running to stand in front of the window. “You have to help me.”
She looks over her shoulder at the prince, an amused smile appearing on her face before she speaks. “Not off to a good start with the whole asking for help thing. You did hit me in the head. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” As she reaches out for her backpack and arrows, Chip grabs them both and runs to the other side of the room. Daria then moves to stand in front of the open window to the right of the intruder.
“We can’t excuse you just yet, not until you’ve agreed to help him.” The oven says in its calm voice, trying to keep any conflict form escalating and hoping to convince the girl.
The intruder is confused for a second, but she shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly. “Surprisingly that’s not the strangest thing that’s happened to me,” She looks at Harrison. “Please tell the oven to move.”
“Her name is Daria.” The prince says approaching her.
The girl sighs in exasperation, rolling her eyes. “Okay Daria please move, I really need to get going, and dog give me back my backpack.” Her eyes land on Chip who is lounging comfortably on her belongings. Chip merely tilts his head at her in question, starting a staring contest of his own until Harrison speaks up once more and takes the stranger’s gaze away from his dog.
“His name is Chip, and I’m Harrison.” He extends his hand out at the girl for her to shake but she only nods in greeting and doesn’t disclose her name. His heartbeat picks up and there’s a feeling of dread swirling in his stomach. This is his only chance of getting out of the tower, of seeing his family again. He feels his eyes water at the thought of them, are they doing alright? Are they safe? And do they miss him just as much as he misses them?
“Please just hear me out, it’s kind of a long story but I’ll keep it short.” Harrison takes a step towards the stranger, knowing nothing about them but not caring. He feels something deep within him and it makes him trust her, he knows she’s who his fairy godmother meant when she told him someone would rescue him. This intruder with purple eyes might be his only hope.
Something changes in those purple eyes when she scans his face and her features soften the slightest bit. Her foot taps impatiently on the floor and she looks around as if assessing her options before huffing and nodding, She walks back to the chair where she was previously sitting and crosses her arms across her chest. “You’ve got 5 minutes.”
warnings: might be angsty at times, mentions of death, murder investigations
AN: this story wouldn't let me sleep until I started writing down all my ideas (although in no specific order at first). There will be a time skips sometimes, but I’ll label them so its not confusing. I hope you guys like it, I’m always very self conscious about everything I write (even schoolwork) so I feel like im sharing a bit of myself with you here. Let me know if you enjoyed it. Thank you to Marcia who made this moldboard for me a while ago!💖
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Over the years you have learned the pros and cons of living in a small town.
The pros:
You can escape from your previous life, from anything that hurt you and start over. No one knows who you are or the past that seems to sometimes follow you like a shadow sometimes. It’s a fresh start and 4 years ago, that was exactly what you needed.
That’s how you ended up in Dewitt, three hours away from Cambridge where everywhere you went people look at you with pity in their eyes. It’s as if losing your brother hadn’t been enough, no, people had to remind you with every look and every how are you? What were you even supposed to say? Devastated would only make people worried and okay made them believe you’re lying to them. Either way you felt like shit, there wasn’t a place you could go that didn’t remind you of him so you did what anyone else would do. Pack up your things and move to a remote town close to the sea where no one knew you.
The cons:
People talk. A lot.
Not that people aren’t nice, they are, well most of them. However, that doesn’t make them any less nosy or gets rid the river of gossip that inevitably flows when something different from the routine happens. You expected it going in, if word got around in Cambridge then it would certainly get around in Dewitt. Therefore you kept quiet about any personal details or stories, to them you were the psychology professor that owns the bookshop/café in Harold street. You drive up to Cambridge twice a week to lecture your students and Skype any of them who need office hours. During the summers you give online classes and put pastel blue tables outside your store for people to read or talk. To everyone there you were the nice young lady who makes some really nice coffee, who is always smiling and who tutors whoever needs help in science or English lit. Gossip is a plague though, one that no one can escape so that’s how find out a detective has moved into town. Richard Mensen has gone missing and it’s been a week since his family, or anyone else saw him. The local authorities haven’t gotten anywhere so they sent someone else to help.
You walk to the entrance of the bookstore and glance at the police station as a man steps out of a car and walks inside. Harrison Osterfield, the detective from London who you can tell already walks with a massive weight on his shoulders.
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Everyone is looking, there are cameras and reporters and Harrison just wants to go home. Eight and a half months after arriving to Dewitt, the case was finally solved. Richard Mensen was dead, that they discovered three weeks after arriving. The next eight months that followed were about finding out who did it, why they’d done it and convicting them for ruining a family’s life. They were also full of judgement, Harrison should be used to it by now, but he’s not. His palms sweat and his heart beats too fast under the attention of everyone in the town, every look of disappointment they had sent his way for taking so long.
You do it, Harrison wanted to say, go and solve it if it’s that easy. He puts on a neutral face, his mask, and tries not to give away how terrified he is of fucking up someone else’s life because of his shortcomings. He hasn’t so far, but he lived in fear of it happening. It’s brought him sleepless nights trying to figure cases out, cost him relationships and his confidence. He is sure of one thing though, they got the right guy convicted and now he can go to his little house in the outskirts of town and sleep for ten days.
“The case has been closed, the killer was sentenced to life in prison around thirty minutes ago. We kindly request the press to let the affected family rest and finally deal with their grief at this time. The people of Dewitt can be in peace now, we consider this case to be an anomaly in the otherwise safe community they live in. That’s all I have to say.”
Harrison steps aside and leaves the reporters standing outside of the station as he takes off his tie and shoves it in the pocket of his navy blue suit. The cool spring breeze pushes his hair back as he walks along the sidewalk by the many stores in Harold street. He takes a deep breath, feeling the tension leave his shoulders and smelling freshly ground coffee. Your bookshop is right ahead, the red flowers by the window blooming beautifully under the spring sun and contrasting with the pale yellow of the storefront. Harrison checks his watch, 2:30pm, it’s a bit too late for a coffee but he didn’t drink his usual one this morning and he’d be dammed if he doesn’t take this excuse to see you.
You’re sitting on a table by a bookshelf when he steps into the shop, there’s some papers in front of you, a cup of tea far away from them and what looks like a blueberry muffin by your right hand. You’re focused on what’s in front of you while you take a piece of the muffin with a fork and bring it to your mouth. Setting down the fork, you chew on the pastry as you grab a pen and scribble something on one of the papers. It’s only when someone clears their throat behind him that he realizes he’s been leaning on the doorway and staring at you for more than a couple of minutes.
His ears feel like they’re burning when he steps into the shop to let the other person in. He mumbles a quick sorry and walks towards the register where the drink menu was displayed.
“Detective Osterfield.” You smile, standing up when you notice him come into the bookshop. “How was court?”
“Please, Y/N, call me Harrison.” He feels himself smile as he shakes his head. “Court went well, he got a sentence and the case is close.”
“That’s good. I bet you’re looking forward to rest for a while.” You walk around the register and move to the expresso machine. “Your usual?”
“No, umm, if I drink coffee right now I won’t sleep and I really need a nap.” He scratches the back of his neck. Why is he always so nervous, he’s seen crime scenes and blood but he can’t talk to you without feeling like a teenager. “But maybe one of those chocolate cookies you’ve got there.”
“Oh! I’m sorry if I’m keeping you then, let me get that cookie for you.” You push your hair behind your ear as you grab a small paper bag and use a napkin to pick a cookie from the jar. “Here you go.”
Harrison can’t help but return the smile you give him and moves to take his wallet from his jacket. “No, you’re fine don’t worry. How much to I owe you?”
“Oh, forget about that.” You chuckle, smoothing the white blouse you are wearing. “Take it as a thank you for making our town safer.”
Harrison’s ears burn once more, “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” You shrug, suddenly looking shy. “Are you, umm, staying in Dewitt? With the case being closed and all?”
Harrison hadn’t even thought about leaving, this town had become part of his routine and he dared say he’s grown fond of it. Not to mention he’d grown fond you. “Yeah, I’m staying.”
“Good, great that’s nice.” You smile. “Would you like to take a walk down to the beach someday? It’s okay if you say no, don’t feel like you have to say yes because of the cookie, it’s not a bribe or anything I just-“
“Y/N.” Harrison stops your rambling stepping towards you. His heart is beating a mile a minute, you just asked him out. The broody shitty detective that takes eight months to figure out a case. He’s the luckiest shitty detective there is. “I’d love that.” He says, taking your hand.
“Really?” You smile, his eyes meet yours and he’s surprised to see his own. Eyes that smile but not all the way, eyes that are hiding something painful that’s locked away in your heart.
“Yeah.” He smiles back, squeezing your hand with his before stepping back. “We can go whenever you want, just let me know.”
Let me get to know you, he thinks. And when you nod your head and smile at him again he is almost certain that you will. It could take time, but he’s willing to wait until the moment you decide you will.
