#and while i love lower decks I'm not sure how long those can keep the franchise going

[timelord-of-the-moon]

okay what the fuck paramount plus? not only is there still not a mention or statement about prodigy season 2, their star trek day celebration that was supposed to heavily focus on animation did not even mention prodigy, and they list all of the treks at the end... but not prodigy. Basically trying to erase it from existence?

they gave up on it after one season, did it just fail that badly? they didn't even give it time to find it's audience... so disappointing

[goldencherriess]

Getting washed away in you.

Pairing: Young! Remus Lupin x Fem! Reader

Word count: 7.8k (oops!)

Summary: Y/N is a loyal maid. Remus is a writer in the making. Both of them embark on what would become a fate sealing trip.

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of drinking, implied suggestive content, emotional abuse, manipulation, Sirius being the best wingman out there, Remus being the definition of a gentleman, love confessions, Titanic AU

Masterlist

10th of April 1912

She knew it before her worn out shoes stepped onto the deck. She felt it in the electrifying air, in the sparkling, brand new decks, in the humming of the waves. The salty air hit her in soft winds. It was the very first time she was boarding a ship.

RMS Titanic.

They called it the ship of dreams, the ship of possibilities. It was bound for New York City, a brave destination to those who dared.

She was just a mere servant, though. Her hands were scarred by now, always scrubbing the floors or helping in the kitchen. Rough skin, but a soft heart. Y/N looked all around, taking in the sights. There were some seagulls soaring in the air and spying down at the people boarding the ship and saying goodbye with tears in their eyes.

''Do you reckon mother would be satisfied on the trip?'' a young boy's voice asked.

''When is she ever?'' another voice, this one much deeper responded.

Sirius and Regulus Black.

Ever since she can remember, Y/N worked for the noble house of Black. Her mother was a servant, and then she became one, learning how to clean the potatoes naked, for how long to boil the beef, how to iron a shirt, how to always be careful around the house, to never upset the mistress. The only help they ever got was from Kreacher, a poor house elf, who had a much crueler fate than Y/N and her mother ever had.

She learned how to keep quiet, eyes cast down and head lowered. ''Know your limits, girl!'' mrs. Black said to her the first and the only time Y/N looked her in the eyes and defied her. Since then, she knew her place.

Y/N looked towards the brothers, wind ruffling their ebony hair. She remembered the early days when they used to play in the garden, before she was dragged to the kitchen and given an apron. She was six at the time.

Regulus rolled his eyes, before he settled them on her. ''I'm sure the salty air will get to her head. Maybe she'll calm down. Everybody loves a trip away from home.''

Y/N smiled softly. ''I've never been away from home.''

Sirius grinned, before taking her arm, and took a few steps forward, as if they were going for a walk. ''Behold! The whole world at your feet, miss! The destination? The stars!''

She laughed, while shaking her head. ''Ever the dramatic, Sirius! I think you should become an actor.''

His eyes shined and he opened his mouth to say something, but a booming, strident voice that resembled the shards of a broken glass, interrupted him. ''Come along, Y/N! Stop fooling around!''

Her smile fell off her face and she took a step back, letting her hand fall limply at her side. She turned her whole body towards the voice, shivers coming up her spine. The ice-cold gaze of Walburga Black pierced her through and Y/N gulped. ''Take this luggage and bring them to my suite. I don't want to hear any complaining!''

''Yes, ma'am!''

''Now!''

''Yes, ma'am!''

She tried to ignore the pity gazes of Regulus and Sirius. She tried to ignore the churning she felt in her stomach. She tried to ignore the tears threating to spill over. She almost tripped twice, her arms aching from carrying the luggage. Her heart stopped in wonder, though, when she entered the ship.

She never saw this much grandeur in her entire life. Not even the finest silverware of Walburga could compete with this ship's interior, with big, sturdy stairs greeting her, with a clock proudly looking over the whole room, light coming through the glass ceiling. Awestruck, she remained rooted to the spot, already forgetting about the luggage. Her eyes sparkled at the sight of it all.

A stark whisper broke through. ''Know your place, girl!''

And she was pushed forward.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Her room was modest. It was a small room but she found no reason to complain. The sheets were clean, she had a bathroom and a bed. It was more than enough. She took a seat on the soft mattress, looking all around her. There was only one small window, letting the light stream in. Her shoes tapped against the floor as she walked to it.

The ocean was sparkling, scales of light playing on the surface of it. The deep blue of it almost drew her in. The waves lapped at the sides of the ship, splashing drops of foams onto the window.

If she closed her eyes and took a breath in, she could almost taste the salty smell of them.

Growing up, the only thing she ever saw was the back garden of the Blacks and the kitchen of the house. She never experienced the rocking of a ship or its almost alive, screeching metal walls. She never experienced the kisses of the ocean.

Y/N let those thoughts wash over her before she brought herself back to reality. She was expected in mrs. Black's suite in five minutes. A large soiree was to be held tonight in the restaurant, and Her Grace had to look the most dashing, if not the most expensive.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Y/N's hands worked through the material, tying the strings of the corset, the smooth silk kissing her fingertips.

''Tighter, girl!'' the voice of Walburga commanded her.

''Yes, ma'am.''

''I have to look the best tonight. There will be important people at the soiree, plenty of opportunities. I'm the head of the family, after all. Wouldn't you say so, dear?''

Her voice got sickly sweet at the end and Y/N almost froze. ''Yes, ma'am.'' she replied, before she tightened the corset to its limit, the material hugging the waist of mrs. Black, hiding her tummy and curves.

'''Much better.'' said Walburga, looking at her through the mirror. ''This is why I keep you around. My faithful maid.''

Y/N cast her eyes downwards. ''Thank you, ma'am.''

Suddenly, Walburga's gaze hardened. ''I expect you to be close to us at the soiree.''

She didn't back down. She knew her place. ''Yes, ma'am.''

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The restaurant was as grand as she imagined it to be. Glass doors. Lavish carpets. Carved into the wood chairs. Chandeliers. Her steps were silent, as she walked onto the oh-so-ever soft carpet. Her long skirt hid her ankles and she felt the urge to take off her shoes just to feel the fibers of the carpet tickle her feet.

''Stop gawking around, girl! You'll make us the laughing stock!'' hissed Walburga Black through her teeth, before plastering a smile at an exquisite, middle aged man coming up to introduce himself.

Sirius, who witnessed the exchange, lightly touched her elbow, and steered her away from his mother. ''Do not take it to heart, Y/N. Don't let her words get to you. She doesn't know you like I and Regulus do. And she's too ignorant to ever try to get to know you.''

She gulped, but smiled anyway. ''Thank you, Sirius. That's very-''

''And the young lady?''

A manly voice interrupted her, freezing her in the spot. Walburga's nervous and false laughter travelled all the way to her ears, imprinting itself in her mind, much like a broken record would forever be stuck on repeat. ''Who?''

The gentleman who was still speaking to Walburga repeated his question, firmly this time while eyeing Y/N. The young girl gulped, feeling drops of sweat rolling down her back.

Mrs. Black turned toward where Y/N and Sirius were at, and with a fire burning in her eyes, she replied, venom rolling down her tongue. ''Oh, her? She's just a maid.''

The gentleman's gaze turned cold and he turned his back to her, without sparing another glance in her direction.

Y/N felt her lungs closing in and she took a step back, her eyes flitting around. ''Excuse me.'' she hastily whispered before taking off. Sirius' voice drifted through the crowd, calling her name. She payed no mind to it. She couldn't hear anything except a ringing in her ears, reverberating in the walls of her being. She pushed through, taking turns around the corridors, almost tripping several times before the open sky and the salty air greeted her. Stars were twinkling softly in the inky and sticky-looking sky. The cold air filled her lungs, calming her down.

Tentatively she stepped towards the banister, letting her hands rest on the cold metal. Her eyes caught sight of the waves hitting the side of the ship, swallowing it whole. The ocean was of the most dark blue, resembling tar and drawing her in. She leaned over, trying to catch a glimpse into the abyss. The waves splashed her face with salty and cold droplets, wind playing with her hair.

''You can't see the bottom.''

Gasping, she turned around, coming face to face with a young man dressed in shabby clothes. He seemed to have outgrown them for quite a long time because the coat's sleeves were barely reaching his wrist. He was wearing his hands in his pockets, slightly hunched over because of the cold. His sandy hair shined in the moonlight and his honeyed eyes stared back at her, sporting a kind twinkle. ''It's deep. Way deeper than it may seem at first.'' he added, his voice soft.

For a moment, she was at a loss of words, hands gripping the banisters until her knuckles turned white, and eyes wide. Then, her voice found the courage to speak up. ''How deep?''

He shrugged. ''Probably eight thousand meters? Deep enough to drown if you don't know how to swim.'' He regarded her with a curious look, kindness still present in his eyes. ''Do you know how to swim, miss?''

Her voice trembled. ''No.''

''Then, if you were to fall over, I would have had to jump in.''

''Jump in?''

He started to smile. ''If you fall, I fall.''

Y/N gulped, not taking her gaze off of him. His smile was enticing. ''I'm not falling whatsoever.''

Still keeping his distance, the young man replied. ''Then, be careful.''

She nodded her head, ready to reply but Sirius' voice echoed in the night. ''There you are, Y/N! I've been looking everywhere for you and-'' Sirius stopped short, catching sight of the young man. Eyebrows scrunching, he looked towards Y/N. ''Is this young man troubling you?''

Hastily, she replied, while shaking her head, still gripping the banister. ''No, no. He- um, he saved me.''

''I did nothing, miss. Nothing a noble man wouldn't do.''

Sirius, eyes lit up and eyebrows raised up, turned towards the blond man. ''Oh, did he?''

Nodding her head, Y/N replied. ''He stopped me from leaning too far.''

''Is that so? What's your name, sir?''

Still looking at Y/N, the shabby looking man replied. ''Remus. Remus Lupin.''

Clapping his hands, Sirius voiced. ''Well, that settles it! You are to be invited tomorrow evening for dinner, eight sharp. We'll meet in front of the clock. I expect punctuality.'' Turning towards Y/N, he stuck his arm out. ''Come, Y/N, the night's still young.''

Finally, breaking away from the banister, she wrapped her hand around Sirius' arm, maintaining eye contact with Remus. His eyes twinkled like stars in the sky. He bowed respectfully. ''Have a good evening, miss.''

Her face burned, and she broke eye contact. Leaning towards her, Sirius whispered. ''He seems like a well-mannered man.''

She shyly shrugged, lost in thoughts. As struck by lightening, she turned towards him. ''You invited him to dinner! What about your mother? And what about me?! I can't take dinner with you, it's just not proper!''

''Do not worry about it. I have a card up my sleeve.'' said Sirius, gently tapping her hand.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

11th of April 1912

Y/N regarded herself in the mirror, turning around and trying to smooth the wrinkles of her one evening dress. It was quite simple (she didn't have the money for a fancier one). The dress was the colour of dry olives, her sleeves coming to an end in a lacy manner. The white of the lace started to yellow, time having had its saying.

A knock on her door pulled her from her reverie. ''Y/N? It's me.'' Sirius' voice travelled through the door.

''Come in!'' she replied, her voice strained with emotion.

Sirius' lacquered shoes tapped against the cheap floor, a dress draped over his arm. He stopped short when he saw her fidgeting in front of the mirror. His eyes met hers through the reflection. ''Good evening.'' he said, slightly worried.

''I have nothing to wear.'' she announced.

His lips were pulled into a grin and he raised his arm, showing the dress. ''I think you do.''

Shock painted her features and she turned around. ''That's your mother's dress, Sirius!''

He nodded, as if that was the most obvious truth in the world. ''Indeed!''

''I can't wear it!''

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. ''Of course you can!''

Y/N shook her head, colour leaving her cheeks, eyes blown wide. ''I cannot! It's just- I can't, Sirius!''

''And why is that?'' he replied, voice laced with sarcasm.

''Because, because- I'll get in real trouble! I could get fired for that! You know how your mother can get! She'll throw me off the property, with no penny to my name and just the clothes on me. I'm not even payed enough to put aside some money!''

''Calm down! She won't find out.''

Pointing a finger to him, she replied. ''How can you be so sure? You won't be the one kicked out!''

Sirius gasped, putting his free hand to his chest and feigning hurt. ''I'm wounded! You can be so harsh sometimes, my dear.''

She scoffed, turning away from him. ''Stop that!'' Her voice got low to a whisper, but Sirius heard it nonetheless. ''I'm just afraid.''

His eyes turned sad, shoulders slumped. He pressed his lips together, before taking a few steps towards her. ''I'll make sure she won't find out, alright? I got you, you're my bestfriend, Y/N. She won't find out. He let his hand fall against her shoulder. ''I promise.''

Her glossy eyes met his in the mirror, lips pulled into a soft smile. ''Thank you'' she mouthed.

He just nodded, letting the silence say the words he wasn't. After a beat of tranquility, he grinned. ''Come! Let's get you ready! Time's ticking!''

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Y/N wasn't used to walking in heels, especially ones which weren't hers. Her ankles trembled in them and she tried not to step on her dress train. The dress was heavy, she felt it as if it was lead. She wasn't used to feeling the cold touches of jewels pinned and sewed in the corset, she wasn't used to the dangling of the gold earrings, nor to the soft silk gloves hugging her hands. And she wasn't used to the lingering stares she got from the first class passengers. She was never one to be seen.

''Calm down.'' whispered Sirius from besides her.

''Why is everyone staring at me?'' she whispered back.

''Because you're beautiful.''

''No, no, they know I'm an outsider. They know I'm from the third class, that I'm just a maid-''

Sighing, Sirius stopped and looked her in the eyes. ''This is your night. Enjoy it, let them stare. Have fun, just forget for awhile.''

With fear clouding her eyes, Y/N stared up at him. ''And what about your mother? And Regulus?''

A smirk bloomed on Sirius' lips. ''Mum's busy. She's having dinner with that bloke from yesterday evening. And Regulus is with them, keeping them distracted and occupied.''

''Does Regulus know about all this?''

''He sure does. Actually, he was the one who lent mister Lupin a suit fit for a fancy dinner.''

Her face lit up. ''Did he?!'' she gasped.

''Indeed. So, let loose for a night, Y/N. Where's the harm in that?'' replied her bestfriend.

Casting her gaze downwards, she shyly shrugged. ''I don't know how.''

''I think he could show you how.''

Lifting her head, Y/N was met with the sight of Remus dressed in a lavish suit. She recognized it immediately. It was the one she always had to be careful how to iron, as its material was a pretentious and tricky one. It ran smoothly down his body, hugging his figure. His chest was puffed out and his legs seemed longer now. The clothes were fitting him. His blonde hair was gelled back.

And he was looking at her. He was looking at her much like he did that night, but this time there was a twinkle of awe in them. His eyes were drinking her in, watching her while she took tentative and careful steps down the stairs, one hand on the dress to lightly lift it.

He was looking at her and she suddenly was one to be seen.

Her steps halted right in front of him, Sirius right behind her. She took off her glove and offered her hand. Remus gently lifted it up to his lips, brushing them over it slightly and lingering just a moment longer. ''Good evening, miss.''

Her voice got stuck in her throat but she managed to smile and curtsy. ''You look lovely.'' he whispered only for her to hear.

''Thank you.'' she replied just as softly, eyes meeting. ''You do, as well.''

He smiled then. A smile that could shine all the way to the bottom of the ocean.

''If the pleasantries are over, I'd say we should take a seat at a table?'' voiced Sirius, a smirk present in his tone.

''Of course, sir.'' replied Remus.

''Please, call me Sirius. We are to be friends, after all.''

Remus smiled at him, a friendship slowly blossoming between them.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The turkey was soft and the mashed potatoes melted on her tongue, aromas exploding in her mouth and enveloping her in a warm embrace.

''So, tell me, Remus, what do you do for a living?'' asked Sirius, knife cutting through the meat.

''I'm a writer.'' he replied, eyes watching Y/N, before he turned his gaze to the brunet.

''Anything I know?''

Remus laughed lightly, casting his eyes onto his now empty plate. ''I'm afraid not. Not yet, at least. I'm still trying to get myself published editorially, but no luck so far. I did manage to publish a few short stories in the newspaper, though."

Sirius paused, fork stuck in the air. He turned towards his bestfriend, who was already regarding Remus with curious look. ''Well, it's great that you know what to do with your life.'' he smiled, before looking deep into his champagne glass. ''Some of us don't'' he added to himself.

''What inspires you, Remus?'' inquired Y/N shyly, trying to meet his eyes.

He shrugged, waving his hand around. ''Ah, a bit of everything.'' He, then, met her gaze deeply. ''Beauty, most especially.''

Y/N felt her face burn up, once again, but she refused to break eye contact. She rarely dared to look someone in the eyes, unless they were Sirius or Regulus. Walburga taught her that people like her shouldn't even dare to even gaze at someone of a much higher rank (''Know your place, girl!''), but Remus seemed to look past the maid uniform he saw her in that evening, he seemed to look past her rough, hard-worked hands, past her awkward posture and past her slightly out-of-place manners. He seemed to see her just the way she was.

And she liked that.

''What do you write?'' she smiled.

''Prose, but I'm yet to try my hand at poetry. Maybe I'll find the inspiration these days.''

It was subtle, but the allusion was there, directed at her, through the clash of silverware against porcelain plates, through the far away violins, through the chatter, past the laughter and gossip, past the candles and all the way to her heart.

She tried to hide her grin, but she couldn't. ''Will you, please, read me some once you do?''

''I'll be sure to.'' he nodded.

Sirius cleared his throat. Both of them turned towards him, the spell broken. ''How about a toast?'' he said, while raising his glass of champagne.

The gold bracelet on her wrist clicked against her own glass when she raised it.

''To new frienships and to lively nights!'' announced Sirius.

''To new friendships and to lively nights!''

Y/N hesitated before she brought the glass to her lips. The champagne tickled her mouth and throat before it burst into bubbles onto her tongue. The taste was sweet, like nothing she ever tried before. The only beverages she ever drank back at home were water, herbal tea made from flowers picked from the Black garden and ale on special occasions, and even those weren't often. She basked in the playful taste and the coldness of the champagne. She had a feeling she wouldn't experience it again.

Sirius choked on his drink when his eyes caught sight of a very furious Walburga. Her face was all red and her stride was rapid fire. A few strands of jet black hair were fallen from the updo. A panicked Regulus tried to stop her, waving his arms around and talking hastily. ''She's coming.'' he managed to croak out before a cough made its way through his lips.

''Who is?'' asked Remus, eyebrows scrunched together and eyes flitting between both of them.

''Mrs. Black.'' whispered Y/N.

''Who?''

''Go! Both of you! I'll hold her off!'' exclaimed Sirius.

Y/N didn't hesitate this time, she stood up and took Remus' hand before taking off. Her heels got stuck in the dress train and she almost fell over if it weren't for Remus' warm arms wrapping around her waist. ''You fall, I fall, remember?'' he said softly into her hair.

A burning red made its way onto her cheeks. She shook it off and took his hand, once again, but not before taking her heels off. Laughing, she dragged him forward, running between the tables, past the waiters and out of the restaurant. She could hear his breathless laugh, as well. It reached her ears in musical notes and high octaves.

They took rights and lefts, they ran down the steps all the way to the third class hallways. Soon they came to a stop, chests gasping for air, eyes shining and grins present on their lips. ''Well, that was fun!'' he laughed.

''I've never run from that woman before.'' she replied, almost awestruck. ''It felt good.'' she added vividly.

''Who is she?'' asked Remus, still holding her hand. His thumb began drawing circles on the back of it.

''Oh, she's- I mean- I'm her maid.'' she finally concluded.

Y/N didn't know what she was expecting from him to hear (probably a disappointed reply or gaze, like it always happened when someone found out she was a mere servant), but all she received was another laugh and a shake of the head. Confused, she asked. ''What? What is it?''

''Her? Seriously? You're her maid?''

Taken aback, she blinked. ''Yes, I-''

''Honestly, she seems to have no control whatsoever over her life.'' he replied, suddenly serious. ''Which is a pity. People like her tend to make a living hell the life of others. Just don't take anything she says or does to heart. She doesn't know what she's doing.''

She stared up at him, a sense of tranquility and stability washing over her. ''Thank you.''

The corners of his eyes crinkled in a smile. ''Of course. Now, do you want to see a real party?''

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The music was loud. Loud enough to crumble down the walls of the ship. The violins sang of long ago loves and future, promising ones. People clapping and dancing in circles and pairs.

"May I have this dance, miss?" yelled Remus over the chaos, sticking his hand out and bowing.

Y/N giggled before she curtsied. "You most certainly may, kind sir."

She had ditched the heels long ago, letting her feet cool down and relax. She felt every plank of wood whine under the weight of her dancing feet. Twirling around, her dress flashed under the dim lights and her hair fell from the meticulously put together bun. Remus took ahold of her hand and brought her closer, before he let his free hand rest against her back. ''Is this alright?'' he murmured, his breath close enough to flutter her eyelashes. She just nodded.

It wasn't long before they were sliding down the dancing floor and twirling, in rhythm to the trembling chords of violins. People were cheering and Y/N was finally remembering how nice it was to just let go for awhile, to let the world do its thing, to embrace the pulsing moment. Carpe diem.

The music stopped and she almost stumbled, Remus' nose touching hers. They were both breathing heavily, strings of sweat rolling down their foreheads. ''Can I walk you to your dorm?'' he asked in a mere whisper.

''Yes.''

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The walk down the corridors and past the millions of rooms was silent. The exhaustion was finally catching up to her, and he was holding her hand, humming under his breath the tune from earlier. The room 101 finally came into view and their feet halted in front of it.

At first, Y/N didn't dare to look him the eyes, afraid to catch her reflection into them, but Remus' thumbs raised her chin and met her gaze. ''Did you have fun tonight?'' he asked softly, a tender look present in his eyes.

She shyly smiled. ''I did.''

The corner of his lips curled slightly. ''So did I.'' He let his hand fall at his side and he tilted his head. ''I'll write a poem tonight.''

Y/N felt the air leave her. She had to blink and to swallow away some of her nerves just to speak up. ''About what?''

''About beauty.''

And then he leaned down to kiss the corner of her mouth. His lips were gentle and soft, they reminded Y/N of those satin sheets in Walburga's bedroom, back at home. ''Goodnight, Y/N'' he murmured against her.

''Goodnight, Remus.'' she managed to whisper.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

12th of April 1912

Walburga Black was absolutely fuming. She was clenching her cup of tea in her hands, a scowl present on her lips. Her face was white as a sheet, dark circles clouding her eyes.

Regulus cleared his throat, putting down his own cup of tea. ''Did you sleep well, mother?''

She turned her head towards him, almost getting a whiplash. ''You shut it! You knew what they were up to!''

''What were they up to, mummy?'' he replied innocently, doe eyes staring at her.

A fire ignited insider her gaze and she almost slammed down the cup when Y/N entered the room, a soft smile on her lips and a far away look in her eyes, a kettle in her hands. She was wearing her maid uniform, the apron already stained yellow. Walburga pinned her down with her venomous gaze, eyebrows pinched together. ''Should I bring more sugar, ma'am?'' Y/N inquired.

''No.'' replied Walburga sweetly. ''Why won't you take the morning tea with us, dear?''

Y/N froze, the kettle stuck in midair. ''Oh, I couldn't-''

''Sit.'' commanded Walburga, watching every move.

Y/N swallowed thickly, turning to look at Regulus, who was staring into his cup, avoiding eye contact with her. A shiver went up her spine and she almost turned around, leaving everyone in the dust, but she slowly sat down, the soft pillow of the chair almost swallowing her whole. ''There you go.'' said Walburga, smiling enticingly. ''Why won't you pour yourself some tea?''

Y/N started shaking her head, but Walburga's gaze turned cold. With trembling hands, she let the tea fall swiftly into a cup. She didn't bring the cup to her lips, letting the liquid simmer and the steam rise up into the air.

''Drink. It's not poisoned, dear.''

The young girl tried to meet Regulus' gaze, but he was looking everywhere but at the exchange.

''I said drink.'' scowled Walburga.

Y/N brought the cup to her lips, wincing when the hot tea burned her tongue.

''You're one of us now.'' added Walburga coldly.

Y/N almost choked. She brought a hand to her mouth, coughing. ''I'm sorry?''

Walburga laughed bitterly. ''You sure behave like us. Wearing my clothes and jewelry? Eating like the rich? Can you imagine? A mere maid sitting at a table with my son, wearing my clothes? Eating on my money?''

All the colour left Y/N's cheeks. She fumbled with the cup, lowering it on the table. She couldn't move, she couldn't hear anything but Walburga's strident voice.

''Your mother was nothing but a servant, a slave. She didn't disobey me and nor should you and-''

At the mention of her mother, Y/N saw red before her eyes. ''Excuse me?!''

''Excuse you?! I'm most certainly not excusing you and if you think-''

''How dare you?'' Y/N hissed.

Walburga's eyebrows raised above her hairline. ''I beg your pardon?''

Y/N raised to her feet slowly, meeting Walburga's intimidating gaze. ''How dare you treat me this way? I've been the most loyal, the most patient! I've cleaned your sheets, cooked you and dressed you and you've been treating me like some- like some disease! I've never even looked you in the eyes, afraid you'd dust me away and burn me alive, as if I'm nothing more than leaves in the wind! Shame on you. Shame on you because you didn't know how to respect someone who respected you!''

Walburga's nostrils flared and her face got all red. ''You ungrateful child! I raised you like my own!''

Y/N scoffed. ''You raised me?! You didn't do anything but left me to pick myself every time. You're nothing but a pathetic excuse of a woman.''

''That's it, you're fired!''

Y/N raised her chin proudly and straightened her back. ''No.''

''No?''

''No. Because I quit.'' She undid the bow at the back o her apron, crumpling it up and throwing it in Walburga's lap. ''Have a good day, ma'am.''

Walburga gasped, shockingly turning to her younger son and finding him smiling at Y/N, a twinkle in his eyes. ''I'm sorry, Regulus.'' she heard Y/N say softly before her footsteps announced her retreatment.

The room remained quiet long after she was gone.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Remus knocked on her door twice before she opened it, smiling. He was holding a basket full of fruits, sandwiches and a bottle of white wine. A notebook was sticking outside of his pants' pocket. Eyes shining and giggling, Y/N closed the door behind her and stepped out into the hallway. ''What are you doing here?''

''I heard you ditched the hag. It calls for a celebration, love.''

She laughed, lightly punching him in the chest. ''You cheeky-''

Remus leaned down to whisper in her ear. ''Sirius helped me with the food. Let's not waste it.''

She looked up at him and nodded. ''I know a spot.''

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The stars were twinkling much like they did that first night, but this time they seemed to whisper sweet nothings and promising futures. Y/N was lying down her back, across the deck, staring up at the sky, her maroon skirt ruffled slightly by the breeze. The food was long forgotten, the bottle of wine long drank empty.

She was staring up at a sky and he was staring at her.

''I wrote you a poem.'' he announced quietly, afraid to break the serenity.

Her breath got stuck in the throat and she slowly turned her head towards him. He was looking at her like she was the only star in the never ending sky. Like she was the moon in the night and the sun in the morning. ''I wrote you a poem.'' he repeated, worried she didn't hear him the first time.

''Read it to me?'' she murmured, noses touching.

Remus opened his mouth, starting to recite it by heart, his voice filling the silence between them.

''You're a sculpture in the palm of my hand

Marble lips and bronze fingertips

You're the finest art to ever lay eyes on,

And you would bring artists on their knees.

You're the first sunrise and the last sunset

A portrait of violet and golden sunshine.

Let me be the brush to paint you with,

Let me be the one to bring you alive and colour you in.

I'm getting washed away in you,

I can only hope you are too.''

She sighed blissfully, finding the air she needed. She got closer, lips barely brushing before her hands found his shirt's collar. For a moment, everything was stilled. The waves didn't hit the ship's sides anymore, there weren't any more violin sounds coming from inside, there wasn't any wind to nick at their skin. Just them.

Remus found her waist and brought her closer, lips finding lips, eyelashes fluttering against cheeks, hearts beating. ''Thank you.'' she whispered against him, once the kiss was sealed.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

13th of April 1912

''I don't know how to write.'' Y/N confessed in the open air the next morning, the sunrays bathing her in golden hues. ''Can you teach me how?'' she asked Remus who was taking a stroll next to her, down the deck.

He turned to look at her, his sandy hair imitating gold in the sunshine. He had one hand in the pocket, one was holding hers. ''Do you trust me to?''

She nodded sure of herself. ''How can I not?''

His lips curled in a smile and he looked away from her towards the horizon. ''Alright then. I will.''

''I'll be waiting for you this evening.''

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

He came knocking at her door, shirt ironed, a pen and a notebook in his hands. His hair, as always, was rebelling, strands of hair sticking out in different directions. Y/N showed him to the bed, as her room had no table. He shyly sat down, the bed whining under his weight. She took a seat next to him, legs touching, hair down.

Without a word, he gently took ahold of her hand, putting the pen between her fingers. He cupped her hand and lowered it slowly onto the paper. She was trembling under his touch, heart racing. She could feel the heat of his body radiate off of him and enveloping her. ''So, this is the letter A.'' he murmured in her hair.

With his help, she wrote curving lines. The ink blossomed and stained the paper. ''Let's try again.'' he said.

Her hand was no longer trembling, sure lines being born from the tip of the pen. Eventually, Remus lifted his hand, letting hers to slide the pen across the paper. ''There you go. Good job.''

She laughed incredulously, turning her head towards him, hair swishing. ''I did it! Did you see?''

He laughed, eyes lighting up. ''I did!''

Her laughter slowly died down, gaze slipping to his lips. ''Stay the night, please.''

''Alright.'' he answered, short of breath.

Lips met.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

14th of April 1912

11:40 p.m.

The iceberg came without a warning. Y/N felt the crash in her sleep, waking her up. Pulse picking up, she stood up, turning to wake Remus up from besides her. Gently shaking him, he fluttered his eyes open. ''Hello, love.'' he groggily said.

''Did you feel that?'' she replied, her voice raising.

He furrowed, confusion lacing his features. Soon enough, yelling was heard out in the hallway, water coming in from under the door, flooding the room. A young worker drenched in sweat burst into the room, two white life jackets in his hands. ''The ship hit an iceberg. Do not panic! Wear those jackets and come onto the deck, there are life boats.''

As fast as he came, he left, leaving both of them shocked, wrapped in sheets and pale. Remus was the first to break free of the shock, getting up and taking her hands. ''Come, Y/N, let's get you in this jacket.''

''Will we die, Remus?'' her voice trembled.

His fingers halted. He looked down at her, hair sticking to his forehead. ''Of course not, love. I'll make sure we don't.'' He tied the strings of the jacket before putting his hands on the sides of her face. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. ''It'll be fine.''

''You should wear a jacket too.'' Y/N said, slowly choking up. She leaned down to pick up the drenched jacket, trying to ignore the cold water eating away at her skin. She put it on him, tying the strings much like he did for her.

''Let's go find a boat.'' he said, taking her hand.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The ocean flooding the hallways drenched her dress and her worn out shoes, the only ones she had. She couldn't feel her toes and she ached for a warm bed. With Remus' hand in hers she powered through, trying to get past the panicking crowd and onto the deck. At some point, she was pushed downwards by a man with a bleeding nose and no life jacket, but Remus' arms saved her from falling. ''If you fall, I fall.'' he said, just for her to hear.

Soon enough, they managed to reach the deck, crowded with people running and crying. Looking over the crowd and pushing through, Remus tried to arrive at the boats, but a voice calling out to them stopped him.

''Y/N! Remus!''

Y/N gasped, turning around, tears threating to spill over. Her bestfriend was running towards them, ebony hair fluttering, clothes sticking to skin. He stopped in front of them, puffing. ''What- What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in a boat, Sirius? And what about Regulus? Where is he?''

Taking a breath, Sirius replied. ''He's in a boat with mother.''

''And why aren't you?'' furrowed Y/N, worry swirling in her gaze.

Sirius rolled his eyes. ''Because I preferred to look for you. You're foolish if you think I would let you go down with this bloody ship! You're my bestfriend, Y/N. You should know better than that.''

Almost bursting into tears, she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him close. ''You're insane.''

''I know. Mum's told me several times.''

She laughed through her tears. Sirius met Remus' eyes over her shoulder, a respect being shown through their gazes. ''This is why I give you my spot in a boat.''

Y/N's heart stopped for a second. ''What? No!'' She broke free from the hug.

''Yes, Y/N. I have to know you safe. Both of us do.''

''Absolutely not. I'm not leaving you, nor Remus on this boat alone. I refuse to!''

The warm touch of a gentle hand on her shoulder calmed her down. ''Listen to him, love. It's better this way.''

Tears started to slid down her cheeks. ''But you promised. You said you would keep us safe.''

He nodded, thumbs drying her tears. ''I am.''

She shook her head, hair flying around. ''No, no, you're not. I can't leave you behind.''

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He could see her clearer now, eyes drowned in tears. "You're not. We'll see each other on the other side."

Her lower lip trembled and she took a step back. She could see how Remus' heart was breaking at the action, his own eyes turning sad.

"I'll look after him, Y/N." promised Sirius, an unconvincing look in his eyes.

Her gaze moved between both of them, before it settled on him. Remus was a light. This was something she grew to know these past few days. He brought light where she saw darkness, he illuminated her ways. But now, he seemed down, his shoulders slumped, crushed under the reality.

She couldn't seem to see the light in his eyes.

"I'm not going." she finally concluded.

"You are." stated firmly Remus, taking her hand. "You are."

"No, I'm not." she furrowed stubbornly.

"We'll found each other afterwards." Tears gathered in his eyes. "Please, love. I'll be fine, you'll see."

Something broke in her, but she didn't let her tears flow anymore. She just nodded her head, letting him carry her to the boats, letting him help her lower herself in one, meeting his gaze for the last time.

People cried all around her, a little girl saying goodbye to his father, wives kissing goodbye husbands, violins sorrowfully playing in the background, the ship whining. Her eyes took in the reality of the moment and her soul crushed.

They started lowering the boat. He was still up there, hands in pockets as always, hair ruffled, shirt crumpled. Sirius was somewhere besides him, his lacquered shoes now long ruined.

She couldn't take her eyes off of Remus. The way he still tried to look casual, as if it was another Sunday. The way he always seemed to know what to say. The way he was now missing his notebook. The way he didn't have a penny to his name, but a whole lot of treasurable qualities. The way he looked at her.

And the way she was getting washed away in him.

In a spur of moment, she jumped off the boat, her hands barely taking ahold of the banister from the second floor. People shrieked and she almost fell, but a new found willing power gave her strength and she pushed herself up, her feet touching the ground.

It was as if she knew the way to him, past the corridors, up the stairs, all the way to the clock. Remus met her halfway, cupping her cheeks and bringing her close. "What did you do that for?! You're insane, you're absolutely insane!"

"I tried, I really tried, but I couldn't. I couldn't let you go." she replied, emotion evident in her voice.

He covered her face in feathering kisses, hugging her close. "We're getting off this ship together. I'm never letting you out of my sight again."

The ship tilted, furniture sliding down. "Come on, we have to get out of here." he said, taking her hand, once again.

The ship whined for the last time before it snapped in two and Y/N slipped. She shrieked, already falling. She got ahold of a banister, looking up at where Remus was at, heart beating out of her chest. He was struggling to remain upwards, hands sticking to the same banister, knuckles turning white. Drops of sweat were rolling down his forehead. "You have to let go!" he yelled over the commotion.

Y/N's eyes got wide. "What?" she yelled back, unbelieving her ears.

"You have to let go, Y/N! I'll be right behind you! If you fall, I fall, remember?"

Y/N felt as this would be the last time she'd hear his voice. Her eyes clouded and she opened her mouth to tell him the words, but he seemed to read her thoughts. "Don't. We'll talk afterwards. We'll have plenty of time. Just let go!"

And she did, letting gravity do its thing. Her skirt fluttered upwards and she felt as if she was falling towards the middle of nowhere. She was expecting to free fall forever, but the icy waters of the Atlantic Ocean swallowed her whole. The cold water was nipping at her skin, tearing at her warmth and depriving her of it. Panicking, she tried to swim towards the moon, whose rays cut the surface of the ocean.

I don't know how to swim. I don't know how to swim.

She flipped her hands around, kicking her feet.

I have to swim, I have to swim.

She pushed her head upwards, finally coming to the surface. Oxygen filled her lungs and she gasped for air. People were screaming all around her, splashing and calling names.

"Remus?! Remus?" she yelled, her voice trembling because of the cold, her lips already turning purple.

"Remus-" her voice died down.

Looking around her, she found a piece of door and climbed on it, almost slipping at first. Her eyes searched for his sandy hair through the people struggling in the water, but the darkness had its saying, letting a black veil fall against her eyes.

With a sob, she laid on her back, the chilling air cutting into her skin.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

She was drawing the letter A into the air when the life boats came back.

"Hey, is anybody alive?" a sailor's rough voice called out.

Her hair crumpled because of the icicles when she got up. She tried to yell, but her voice had long left her. With the last ounce of power, she waved her arms, cold tears once again forming in the corner of her eyes.

"There! Someone's there! Turn the boat!"

Soon enough, she was helped into it, a blanket draped over her quivering figure. "You're safe now, miss."

The boat turned around, leaving the millions of lifeless and floating bodies behind.

Leaving a piece of her heart behind.

•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

15th of April 1912

"No, you do not understand! I'm looking for Remus Lupin! Have you got someone under that name on this ship?"

RMS Carpathia was bustling with people. People who were crying after other people, families who were being reunited, others who were finally coming to terms that they might be on their on own from now on.

She was given a hot tea and a warm bed, but she couldn't find her place.

"Calm down, miss. We're trying our best."

"Well, you're not trying enough!" she flared up.

"Y/N?"

She could recognize that voice anywhere. It was honeyed and gentle and she could wrap herself in it and forever feel warmed up. Abruptly turning around, she was greeted by the sight of him, all worn down. His clothes were dry by now, but they were stiff. His hair was catching the daylight, shining gold. And his eyes were puffy and red.

She burst into tears at the sight of him. Her feet had a mind of their own, carrying her to him. Remus met her halfway, with shaking legs. "I thought- I thought I lost you forever." his voice quivered. "I couldn't find you anywhere."

"I'm here." she managed to croak out. "I'm here. Let's get off the ship together when it docks. We can make our own life. You can become a writer and I can open a bakery."

He took ahold of her face, bringing it closer and planting a fevering kiss on her lips. Letting his forehead fall against her, he whispered. "It would make me the happiest man alive."

A tear slipped down her freezing cheek. He kissed it away. "I love you, Remus."

"I love you back, Y/N."

The Statue of Liberty was overlooking the scene, the sun warming up the people, bringing new horizons and days.

And Sirius saw it all, from afar, holding onto his little brother's shoulder, a small smile playing on his lips.

•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

A/N: this was it! Thank you so much for reading! I put so much heart, time and thought into this fic, it's really insane. It took me loads of time to write it and to plan it out. Most of the time the Titanic soundtrack would accompany me while I tried to find the right words. I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing it!

And yes, that little poem is also written by me :)

If you'd like to be added to my tag list, comment under this post or send me an ask!

Tag list: @bohemianrhapsody86 @andreead

[nightmyst14-blog]

Inspired by @queen-rainy-love 's story "Revenge of the Captain" I wrote this little thing involving my Oc, Sour Cream Cookie.

Enjoy this little drabble I thought of.

Context: Creme Republic harbor, on board the salty shark. Sour Cream Cookie (my OC) has just joined Captain Caviar's crew. The crew is waiting for Sour Cream to come out with his new uniform.

Sour Cream: *walks out with outfit above* How do I look?

Captain Caviar: Looking good, mate!! Glad to see the outfit fits ya well. Perfect for our new navigator!!

Sour Cream: Yeah thanks. *smiles, adjust the coat* The glove is kinda funny.

Rookie: This is so cool!! A new member!!

Purple Coral: Im not sharing my bunk.

Blue Coral: Hehe!!

Captain Caviar: *whistles* Alrighty!! I gotta show our new member around since Candy Diver is out running errands. I want this lower deck clean when I get back.

Crew: yes sir!!

*Sour Cream and Captain Caviar walk off upstairs, listening to the sound out the waves crashing and birds flew by.*

Sour Cream: Heard what happened with Bubble Pearl, hope she's doing alright.

Captain Caviar: The lass is tougher than she looks, definitely got that from his mother's lineage. I'm just glad she's back home.

Sour Cream: And ...the pirate?

Captain Caviar: Locked away. Had plenty of evidence to it.

Sour Cream: Glad to hear it. I Things should be simple for a while-

*The blonde soon freezes, his head starts to spin and visions gone blurry. It was a familiar feeling, but was the first that she done it while he was in public*

Sour Cream: *falls to his knee, clutching his head with his gloved hand* Ugh!!

Captain Caviar: Hah?? *goes over to him* Sour Cream?? Speak to me!!

*His eyes soon went wide, his eyes changed color from its usual green color to deep sea bluish-green. His shocked expression changed into a smile, staring at the Navy Captain*

(his name is in purple, its BLACK PEARL speaking.)

Sour Cream: *gets an eerie smile* Hello again, little crumb!~

Captain Caviar: What the??

Sour Cream: My my, enjoying your day in the sun, Caviar? I'm shocked you're not with my daughter!!

Captain Caviar: *realizes* You!! You're controling- *growls* Never mind, I dont want to know.

Sour Cream: Oh ho ho, so quick to anger!!! But no worries, I wont keep him long.

Captain Caviar: What do you want, fish face?

Sour Cream: How rude, but.. alright. it seems one of my debtors who I thought was gone has decided to show his ugly mug again. It can feel it from here. When I'm done here, can you be sure to keep an eye out?

Captain Caviar: Why cant you do it??

Sour Cream: *glares* I'm busy!! Those annoying pirates hurt my child and Monarch! Plus they made such a mess!!

Captain Caviar: *rolls his eyes* Fine. I'll do it. I'll be sure to tell Oyster as well.

Sour Cream: Good Captain. I'll be off now. Be sure to catch him once I stop.

Captain Caviar: Wait, huh??

*With that, Sour Cream's eyes turn back to his normal color. He felt dizzy, soon falling over.*

Captain Caviar: Sour Cream! *He quickly caught him.* You okay?

Sour Cream: *mumbles* Ugh.... Every time...

Captain Caviar: Are you even aware of what she did?

Sour Cream: I had 20 years experience under my dough, Im STILL not used to it. Yes I do know. *he sighed* Looks like I have another one to hunt down.

Captain Caviar: How do you know?

Sour Cream: Unsure. Kinda like.. a gut feeling? I still don't understand her powers sometimes. *sighs* I better start looking.

Captain Caviar: Nuhuh. You're my friend and crewmate. Its best you rest after ... whatever that was.

Sour Cream: Its not a two way street, if that's what you're thinking.

Captain Caviar: Actually I was thinking how many you must've fell on your face due to that. Withot your um.. 'friend" catching you.

Sour Cream: *tilts head* To be honest, I lost count. Probably due to me hitting my head a lot.

Captain Caviar: *sighs* Most likely.

Hope you guys like this little drabble of my oc!! Have a nice day!

[deans-baby-momma]

Law & Love Chapter 6

THEN

If there is anything I’m sure of, it’s that Sheriff Beau Arlen will protect me and keep me safe. 

My hero doesn’t wear a cape; he wears Wranglers and a Stetson.

NOW

Beau jumps out of the truck; rushes around the front to my side, opening my door and helping me out.

"It's not much but 'mi casa es tu casa'." Beau never lets go of my hand as he shuts the truck door and leads me up the dirt pathway to the wooden deck set up in front of the metal Airstream. 

There are two Adirondack chairs to one side with a little metal table between them and an old dented green cooler situated behind it.

"I sometimes sit out here, listening to the sounds of nature and watching the stars twinkle when I've had a rough day," he tells me in a voice a little louder than a whisper.

"That's……nice," I look up at him with a smile. "Do you mind if we-" I trail off, motioning to the area and he nods.

"Sure. I know your nerves have to be frazzled."

I sit in the chair closest to us as he steps further and takes the other one. I close my eyes and just listen, hoping to relax and stop thinking about my stalker. 

The first thing I hear are the frog's chirping in the distance, telling me that there is probably a small pond or brook nearby. The next thing my ears pick up is the rustling of leaves high in the trees that surround us. Lastly, I can hear the low hum of an airplane somewhere overhead.

I lean back and rest my head on the back of the chair, my eyes still closed while I take it all in. Slowly, the rest of my body catches on and the tension begins to dissipate. After a few moments of just absorbing the utopian oasis, I open my eyes to find Beau watching me, studying me.

"What?" I ask, concerned.

"You're beautiful," he states matter-of-factly. 

"Thanks," I reply, feeling the heat of embarrassment warming my cheeks. "This place is Heaven on earth. How did you find it?"

"My buddy uses it as a hunting/fishing grounds. There's a lake about two miles that way-" he points to the left. "-trout, bass, catfish. But it's not the season for that, so he offered it while I fill in for Tubb." 

"Nice of your friend," I respond, closing my eyes again and leaning back to enjoy the peace and quiet.

I don't know how long we have sat here but when I open my eyes again, Beau has mimicked me and the sun is low in the western sky, pinks and oranges stretching out casting the last hints of daylight as it sinks rather rapidly now

I take the chance to study the dutiful sheriff in last dregs of sunlight  Sandy  brown hair that is a bit longer than I'm sure is protocol, lightly tanned freckled skin across his nose, and lips any woman would pay money to have.  His chin and jawline are proportional with strong, defined edges.  He is a fucking work of art!

I allow my eyes to glide over his body, from his broad chest and massive biceps that his shirt is straining to contain down across his stomach that is taut but plump. 

My eyes stop at the large belt buckle and I smile. What is it about cowboys and their buckle fetishes? The bigger the buckle, the more rugged? The more brawn?

As I consider those things my eyes naturally trail lower and land on the zipper area of his jeans. Even with the thick denim, there is no denying this God of a man is well-endowed and could ruin me for all others.

I'm not going to lie, I am totally down for that.

As my eyes travel further to his thick thighs, Beau startles me as he speaks, "Like what you see, darlin'?"  

My eyes cut up to his face to see his eyes half-open but the green of his irises shine through and there is a half smile/half smirk adorning his luscious lips. 

As we look at one another, his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows and I see a peek of pink when he pushes his tongue against the back of his teeth.

I have never been one to tell a fib, honesty is the best policy and all that jazz, so I look him directly in his eyes and resolutely respond with a "Why, yes I do."

My whole body shakes at the intensity of the orgasm bearing down on me. With one more powerful, deep thrust my body explodes. My limbs go numb, my head feels as if it's floating in proximity to my neck and my skin tingles.

"Ohhhhh, Beauuuuuuu!" I moan in exhilaration. I hear him groan and as soon as the sound hits the auditory cortex of my brain my eyes snap open. 

For a second, I'm disoriented and conflicted. That's not my ceiling and this soft as hell mattress I'm on is not my bed. And wasn't Sheriff Beau Arlen just fucking the hell out of me?

I hear a hitch of breath beside me and I turn to see Beau laying on his side, facing away from me. His arm is under the sheet but I can see the muscles constrict with his movements. Is he doing what I think he's doing?!

Suddenly, the movements stop and I see his whole body tense before a shiver sends the sheet further down his arm. I can now see clearly that his reach is going to his groin area. 

Fuck, that's hot! I hate to admit it but I'm saddened to have missed the show. 

After, what I can only assume is him leaning forward to grab something to clean up, Beau turns onto his back and freezes as he realizes I'm awake. 

"Uhhhh," he stutters. "How long have you been awake?"

"Well, I apparently missed the prolonged version  of the story but the ending looked pretty fulfilling," I say with a smile.

What surprises me is the tinge of pink that colors his cheeks and the tops of his ears.  Is he embarrassed?

"Sorry Y/N," he apologizes. "I'm really trying to be a gentleman here but I have a beautiful woman in my bed; who is moaning my name, and making such pretty sounds, I couldn't help myself."

The sentiment is endearing and charming and it warms my heart but the dull ache between my thighs controls everything, especially my mouth.

"You know, I've never been into gentle men," I put emphasis on the last two words, hoping he catches the double entendre.

Beau closes his eyes and groans. "Darlin', I promise we will get there but not before I take you on a proper date. And that can't happen while you have someone out there, hunting you like prey.”

"Believe me, I would love nothing better than to make love to you and claim you but……just not tonight, okay?"

The sincerity and honesty is not only his words but his eyes and that fills me with warmth and desire. 

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @spnbaby-67 @tftumblin @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam  @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @deanwanddamons @supraveng @deandreamernp @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @deanwithscissors @raisinggray @fanfic-n-tabulous @deans-spinster-witch @yvonneeeeeeee

[hslotharrie]

To My Best Friend

summary: reader faces quarantine at Harry’s and, turns out, it was exactly what they needed to come clean. also, Anne is the superior Mum.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: completely fluff. with marriage + mentions of family? not edited... when do I ever edit

based off of this ask<3

When you wake, the sun is shining through a slightly opened window in the far left corner of your bedroom. You can hear birds chirping amongst themselves from outside, cars driving far in the distance, it's quiet at Harry's home. Peaceful.

It's been a little more than four months since you and Harry decided to bubble at the beginning of quarantine. What you expected to be a few weeks turned into a lot more, but there were no complaints. Harry has the space, is the type to crave company, and you're his best friend.

Best friend.

You roll in the soft sheets, hugging the covers for a few minutes until you inevitably force yourself to get up for the day. You're not sure what sort of expensive luxury bed set this is, but god, they are comfy. You make a mental note to ask him later.

You zone out again on the soft sounds of the birds and the pleasant cool breeze flowing in through the window. You pull your phone from the bedside table to check the time, 10:56– and the weather, sunny and 78. You consider getting in the pool later.

Harry's phone rings somewhere outside of your room, followed by some muffled mumbling from the man himself signalling that he's awake too. You wonder if he's ate yet; he's a sucker for your omelettes and you're craving one about now.

You climb out of bed,  going to the bathroom to tame your hair and brush your teeth, before heading to the kitchen to put together ingredients for the omelettes.

It's about 10 minutes before Harry appears in the kitchen, provoked by the smell. He places a hand on your lower back as a silent 'good morning!' while he stands to your side to admire your cooking. You try your best to ignore the warm feeling that his touch brings; the feeling that makes you wish for more than just a touch.

It makes you nervous, how quickly his presence has you feeling butterflies or how fast he can make you smile when you're in the darkest of moods. You've been sitting on the feelings for years, they were always there, hiding in the back of your head. The feelings that made you wish you'd shared that drink with him just for the second-hand contact to his lips.

Those are the thoughts that make you nervous. You try not to think about them when he's standing right next to you watching your every move with a wandering hand on the small of your back.

He's dressed in a colourful flannel and some shorts, you notice, much different than your fresh out of bed joggers and t-shirt. You make a mental note to change later, and you consider stealing one of his flannels (there's the thoughts again,) just to have his smell on you.

He pulls away from you to begin setting up the eating area, bringing out cups and silverware and then returning with a plate when he senses the omelette is nearly done. He stands to your left with the plate held in both hands like an excited toddler and when you flip the breakfast meal onto his plate he leans over and presses a quick kiss to your forehead in thanks. The thoughts come rushing back; I like when you kiss me, Harry.

"D'you have any plans for today?" he quizzes, before taking a drink of his orange juice.

"Was thinking about going in the pool later," you tell him, "it seemed nice out, an' I love your pool."

"I rather like my pool too," he chuckles "I'll join you, yeah? Could go for a swim later."

When you finish eating, Harry takes the plates to wash despite your protests. You cooked, he argues, so he cleans. You glance at the time, almost 12, and decide that the time it will take to change and freshen up will be enough for your stomach to settle and therefore a swim will be safe.

Returning upstairs, you first search for a bikini and then your sunglasses, changing and adding a pair of shorts. You brush your hair, throughly this time, and tie it up to avoid contact with the chlorinated water.

Before you go back downstairs, you take a minute to look at yourself in the mirror— doing your best not to allow the thoughts to come forward. (You don't think about how your body will look to Harry, and you definitely don't allow yourself to think about what he might think about the bikini you chose. Absolutely not.)

When you return downstairs to the kitchen, the dishes are washed and on the drying rack. Grabbing two cups and straws, you fill each about half with ice and then filtered water; and carry them both out to the poolside where Harry sits contently in the sun.

Unbeknownst to you, Harry's eyes travel along your body through his sunglasses when you appear from inside of the house, wishing he could touch you. His brain flicks back to the phone call he had this morning with his Mum, how she encouraged him to make a move because she knows you're meant to be. His stomach flips thinking about it.

"Do you remember when we went to that party and you pushed that guy into the pool because he was flirting with me?" you smile, sitting down beside him and handing him one of the cold waters.

"Mm, we had to leave because he was gonna' beat me up," Harry chuckles, "I was drunk. Probably lucky he ended up in the pool."

"You were being protective! It was cute!" you defend,  rubbing his back lazily in comfort. He looks at you in a funny way, smile faltering a little before he returns his eyes back to the pool.

"M'gonna test the waters so the princess doesn't freeze," He proposes, rising from his seat when you give him a playful smack.

You rise as well, shimmying off your loose shorts and moving to sit at the side of the pool. Watching harry submerge himself first, you let your legs dangle off of the edge and into the water. It's cold, but a pleasant, enjoyable cold in the hot sun.

You sit contently for a few minutes, enjoying the water on your legs and watching harry swim back and forth. You lean back and turn your attention somewhere else, trying to avoid being caught staring.  Suddenly, though, a hand brushes up the side of one of your submerged legs, informing you of Harry's presence.

"Y'coming in?" he asks, standing now. He's tall, so your faces are about level now.

"Are you in a hurry?" He's close enough now that he's dripping cold water on your skin.

"Maybe,"

Suddenly, he's gripping your waist to lift you and pull you into the water. You squeal, grabbing his shoulders as leverage as he practically drops you into the water that feels ice cold against your warm sunny skin. He laughs loud and happy when you splash water in his direction as payback.

Soon, both of your energies mellow out. Harry's on his phone, while you're floating around in a doughnut shaped floatie. Harry snaps a photo, but you don't notice.

When it's time to get out, Harry offers to go grab the towels while you float around for a few more minutes. He's driving you crazy in the best way. Your skin still tingles where he had touched your sides to lift you into the water, and your palms burn with the memory of his bare shoulders.

When he returns, it's like his energy has changed. The sight of a shirt over his chest makes you frown momentarily, and he's light on his feet rather than the happy strides he took on his way into his home. You see him tuck his phone into his pocket as if he's been talking to someone again, and when his eyes meet yours the wide smile is hiding something else.

When you slip out of the doughnut and climb up the pool ladder, he mumbles a soft "c'mere" and wraps the towel around your shoulders. His eyes watch you for a little longer than they should've.

"Mum called again," He murmurs.

"I's she doing well? Is that who called this morning?" you question, keeping your attention on his eyes.

"Yeah, woke you up I suppose,"

"Not at all!" You defend.

He goes quiet, picking at his fingernails (a nervous habit you notice he's developed since beginning to paint his nails) and looking off to the side to avoid holding eye contact with you. This makes you nervous, he's never this way around you.

"Harry,"

"I'm sorry, 'shouldn't be such a big deal," he says, letting out an awkward laugh.

A soft smile appears on your face, taking his hands into yours to part them. Gently, you move towards him, pressing yourself wordlessly into his body and allowing his hands to wrap around your towel-covered body. It brings him comfort, and you ignore your own heart beating at the contact.

"Better?"

"A little." He admits. He loves holding you, and sure, it helps his nerves, but he's going to tell you.

His Mum's been on him since he told her you'd be staying with him, telling him “now or never, Harry!”, and he's beginning to realize it really is now or never. He doesn't know how long quarantine will keep up or how much longer you will decide to stay, and he misses you even when you're just running something as simple as a grocery trip.

He doesn't know why he's scared, he knows a friendship as strong as yours could work through anything, Still, there's always the possibility that things could go bad. “Get out of your head!'”Anne would say.

This type of topic between the two of you is quite common, given Harry's music and your tendency to be quite open. However, this type of topic concerning the two of you is uncharted territory.

He thinks about the story you'd brought up earlier. When you'd both went to a party together and some guy, very obviously drunker than the both of you, tried to flirt his way into your pants before Harry had pushed him into the pool himself.

The truth is, he knew you would hold your ground if you weren't interested. Actually, Harry knows from first-hand experience that you don't need protection, you can be very vocal when you need to be, and he's even seen you deck someone at the bar a few years back for touching one of your friends. You were the protector.

That's why, upon seeing Harry at such a nervous loss of words, you had hugged him. It was your own way of protecting him.

"I wasn't trying t'protect you when I pushed that guy into the pool." He states, quiet and unsure.

You only hum in reply, allowing him to finish his sentence but letting him know you heard what he said.

" 'was jealous."

What?

"What?" you pull away from him only slightly, “why?"

"I didn't want stupid—" he pauses for the name "Josh, or whatever, t'be the one to take y'home."

You give him a confused look, now that you can see his face. Not putting two and two together.

"Josh is great! I love Josh—"

"More than me?" he murmurs, and it clicks.

Oh.

"Of course not... Harry," you hesitate, watching his eyes move between your own and his jaw clench.

Is this happening?

"I wanted," his shaky hand finds your arm, sliding down to take hold of your own, equally shaky left hand to toy with your fingers.

"I wanted t'take you home. Crawl into bed with you. Whatever else." he finishes. His stomach is in butterflies by now and he feels the tight, anxiety feeling in his lungs.

It catches him completely off guard when your lips are on his.

When you try to pull away, scared you've overstepped, his mouth only follows your own and his hand rises to your jaw to hold you steady. He feels a weight lifted from his shoulders, holding you, kissing you, like this. This is what he's needed.

When you finally do pull away, it's to go inside. Harry erupts in happy laughter when you make a beeline up the stairs. Nothing happens though, it's too soon and Harry agrees, but that doesn't stop you from curling into Harry's sheets, cuddling and kissing each other while watching one of your favourite films.

Catching up on missed time.

***

The wedding reception.

How did we end up here?

"Honestly," Harry speaks loudly to the crowd of your family and friends within the dinner hall "I have two people to thank for sealing the deal."

You smile wildly, knowing exactly which story he's about to bring up. Your eyes travel through the table groups you and Harry had spent so much time planning out. When your eyes catch with Mitch's he gives you a wink.

"Anne, my beautiful Mother, thank you for not letting me coward out of finally telling my girl how I felt," he pauses, you place a hand on his knee

"And Josh—"

You can't hold back the laugh, especially when the entire room turns to face the poor, completely unsuspecting victim. Josh, face red and confused smile on his lips.

"Years ago, when I pushed you into that pool at your birthday party because— you would've killed me if I didn't run! Because you were talking to her and I got jealous!" the room is erupting in laughter.

The room is full of the most important people in your's and Harry's lives. Still though, your happy eyes are glued to Harry, working the small crowd of people as per usual and telling a story about the time of and before quarantine; of when you'd basically moved in with him and never left.

Later, when you're wrapped in warm blankets and Harry's arms, you're reflecting on your day. The guests, who you'd talked to, what you'd heard.

"Wow. I'm married." he dumbfounds.

Wow is right.

"We're married." you restate for him, giving his hand a soft squeeze.

"Wow. I'm married to my best friend.”

Giggles boil over in the dark room. Harry is astonished suddenly, pupils blown, wide grin on his face. He presses quick kisses to the side of your face and you snuggle into his side more.

"I think we win, H."

[dream-a-little-bigger-darling000]

You'll Fit So Nicely You'll Keep Me Intact

Author's Note: Hello Hello! Not my GIF, please don't think it is, but it is my fic! I asked a few days ago if I should do Bane or touch-starved Tommy, and it was pretty clear I should do my sweet summer child Tommy boy. I just really think this big tough fighter needs to take a break and be held every once in awhile. And you can't tell me this man wouldn't have the sweetest moans. Fight me on it you can't. Please Please PLEASE reblog, like, or comment on this if you liked it. I live my day to day life craving validation.

If you absolutely hated it, also let me know! I admit I'm not the best at writing, and I'm willing to learn so I can feed my Tommy Conlon addiction. Ok, that's all, be fed!

2400+ words?! C'mon, that's gotta be enough to make you proud.

The whole fiasco was genuinely an accident.

The two of you, in his small cramped apartment, helping each other make dinner, because you couldn't remember whose turn it was, walking around each other like you had been doing it for years, because you had been.

You had been by Tommy for as long as you can remember, through those years where puberty slammed in the door and decked you directly in the throat (and other places), through the time where his family had slowly fallen apart, and into the years where he had joined the US Marine Corps.

Those years had been hell. At least when he moved away you were still able to text him annoying day-to-day updates and talk in the quiet nights when no one was awake to hear you admit how much you missed each other. But when he joined the Marines, you heard even less from your Tommy, and the ache you felt for him only grew.

When he came back, he had came back for good, immediately seeking you out with the promise of your old relationship back. And things went back to normal, slotted into place perfectly.

Except the insane amount of pining that you went through every waking hour you saw his stupidly attractive face.

But you weren't going to think about that. There was spaghetti to be made.

"Those are done." Tommy nodded his head to the noodles as he made the salad. You sneered to yourself, still pissed that he got the easy part.

"No, they're not, look, that one's still hard-"

"That's what she said."

"It's still undercooked you jerk. Can you please let me cook in peace? You're over there, doing the bare minimum, you ass."

"Hey, if this isn't tossed right, the whole thing is ruined. And those noodles are definitely done. We can get them in the sauce before the garlic bread is done so it'll cool down a bit. Look." All the sudden Tommy was crowded up behind you. Your breath did something funny. Probably the steam from the boiling water. Because, you know, it's so hard to breathe around.

Tommy took the spoon you were using to stir and managed to scoop up a single noodle. He then carefully picked it up and threw it on the cabinet. It stuck, but looked like it would fall via a strong sneeze.

"See? Done." You looked behind you to stare up at the infuriating man. He smiled and tilted his head. You had the sudden urge to hit him. With your mouth. Damn it.

He turned around, not giving you a chance to argue with him. That was his first mistake. As a MMA fighter, the idiot should know never to turn your back on the enemy.

You scooped up another noodle with your spoon. You waited until he was truly busy with cutting the tomatoes up for the salad.

You aimed for his head. It wrapped around the back of his neck with a soft splat. He startled for a moment, and then set the knife down and stared forward, still not turning around to look at you.

"You know what, now it's done. Now it's stickin'." You were struggling to hold it together, desperately trying not to laugh as you turned off the stovetop and set the pan aside.

You felt strong arms envelop you from behind, and you let out a loud laugh as you felt your feet leave the floor. Tommy, spinning you around before setting you on the counter. You've really put yourself it a bad position.

Well, if you're being honest, probably the best damn position you've ever been in.

Except that the bastard started tickling you. More laughter spilled out of you, uncontrollable at this point.

"Tommy!" You were out of breath from the constant attack. What happened to never turn your back on the enemy? "Tommy, what are we in-" More laughter as his joined yours. You two were so close you could feel his shoulder dip every time he rumbled a laugh. "what are we in 6th grade now- Tommy!"

You could feel his laughter huff by your ear, and you knew you had to resort to dirty tactics. If he wanted to play by middle school standards, then you had no choice but to stoop down to his level.

Tommy was very distracted trying to murder you by laughter alone, and he looked like he was having the time of his life. He never even realized your hands were so close to his head. He was in the middle of another fit of giggles when he felt your nimble hands glide through his hair. He had half a second to understand what you were planning, and he was just about to pull away, to get as far from you as possible before-

You gave a solid pull to his hair. You felt satisfaction shoot through your body as his laugh choked off, his body going rigid underneath your fingers. His breath stuttered and his hands instantly fell from your sides to grasp the edge of the counter.

You didn't quite understand what was going on at first, the only thing on your mind being that you'd won the battle. You couldn't help the smug smile from sliding across your expression, or the snarky little giggle that bubbled it's way out.

"What's wrong, Tommy? Did someone school you at your own game, hmm? Maybe next time you'll think before you-"

"Could you please let go?" Tommy sound winded, like he'd just fought a few rounds with someone much bigger than him. It made you pause, and then frown.

Your fingers loosened from his hair, but you didn't lower your arm just yet. You couldn't fathom why Tommy was acting this way, when he instigated the rough-housing. And you knew for damn sure you hadn't hurt him. You had seen the idiot stub his toe on his coffee table before, and the only reaction out of the fighter was a pause, a look up to the ceiling, and one long, drawn out sigh.

So even though he sounded like he was trying to fight for his life, you know it absolutely wasn't because you had hurt him in anyway. Tommy could break you five times over.

You looked down at his hands. Not only was he grasping the edge of the counter top, but his knuckles were white, like he was anchoring himself. You glanced to his face. His eyes were squeezed shut, his lips pressed tightly together, and his eyebrows were furrowed in deep concentration. Was he- was that a blush? His body was still pulled tight.

Experimentally, you lightly scraped your nails along his scalp.

If Tommy were to ever hear you call the sound that came from him a whimper, he'd probably swiftly and effectively dispose of your body. But it was a fucking whimper.

His eyes snapped open wide and met yours. You saw his utter mortification. You would say you felt guilty, but having your long time crush whimper while slotted between your thighs as you sat a top a kitchen counter really did things for you.

You mentally reprimanded yourself for letting your mind fall into the gutter as your friend so obviously had a small break down.

Before you could get a word out, to try talk him down from whatever thoughts were swirling in that pretty head of his, Tommy was out of kitchen. Ah, so he's chosen drama today? Coming from a man who would rather fight his own brother than talk, you can't really find it in yourself to be surprised.

"Tom." You dropped down from the counter, heading toward the living room, which was the only way he could've gone. As you rounded the corner, you saw him pacing the length of the room, his hands interlaced behind his head, elbows out, eyes wild.

"Tommy." You smoothed out your voice, pictured yourself trying to calm down a particularly flighty horse. You know, if the horse were the love of your life and you were desperately trying to make things less weird between you two before the already delicate friendship collapsed.

At your gentle prod he stopped. He let his hands fall down to his sides. He huffed once. Crossed his arms, made a face, and then dropped them. His fists curled up into balls and he closed his eyes. He opened one and looked toward you.

"You didn't hear that."

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your own arms to your chest.

He pointed to the kitchen. "That didn't happen."

Because you love your best friend very much, you didn't roll your eyes.

"Tommy. Calm down. Take a deep breath." He did not take a deep breath. You did for him. Then another one for you. You moved toward the couch, and the way he suddenly looked like he was about to sprint out the door didn't escape you. You held your hands up placatingly. Easy, boy.

You sat down, leaving enough room for him to sit beside you. He looked at you wearily. You gave him a pointed look, one that said this is something to be discussed, and there's no way you're getting out of it, and gently patted the space for him.

He looked like he'd rather do anything else. He eventually made his way to the spot and plunked down, but as close to the arm of the couch as possible.

You gave him a sweet smile. He looked away, but not before you caught the blush. You decided to let him speak first.

It was quiet for awhile. Your thoughts went to the noodles still sitting on the counter, probably cooling in the water making a film. He cleared his throat.

"I don't. Not a ton of people touch me." He stared dutifully in front of him. You stayed silent, afraid of scaring him into silence again. He shifted uncomfortably, letting out a growl of frustration. "I mean people touch me. I just meant. It's not. It's," He looked like each word was slowly strangling him, "Never that intimate. I guess. And never anyone like you."

You're eyebrows shot up. His head jerked toward you.

"Not like that, I mean like someone so pretty." You choked a little. He visibly flinched. "Ok. I think that's enough for tonight. I think I've made plenty an ass of myself for one God forsaken night." He made to move, but your hand covered his before you really thought about it. He immediately stopped, staring at your hand on top of his.

"Tommy, it's ok." He gave you a dubious look. "No, really. Lots of people don't know how to deal with touch when it's not normal for them-"

"I'm fine, I touch people all the time, it doesn't matter it's ridiculous-"

"Tommy." He stopped. You lifted both hands to slowly cradle his face. His eyes were panicky. He looked like he was fighting every instinct inside him. "Listen to me, love." His eyes widened. "You don't have to explain anything. I need you to know it's ok to freak out a little. It's ok for this to be new." You bit your lip. "It's ok if it feels good."

A small sound came from the fighter. His eyes slipped closed. It suddenly hit you. You sucked in a sharp breath, and you started to gently stroking his face to his neck.

"Oh Tommy. You spend all that time fighting in the ring, so much time dominating. You barely let anyone touch you before you knock them away." His dad was probably never there to offer him any type of physical love, and his mom was too distanced from anyone to truly give what Tommy craved. By that time, he had pushed his brother away, and you had never really noticed him to be very active in the dating area.

You could feel his control slipping, could feel him slowly letting you hold his head up while he explored the sensation of someone just feeling him. When he spoke, his speech was slightly slurred.

"Was always jus' scared."

"I know Tommy."

"Didn' want you t' leave."

"And why would I do something stupid like that."

There was a second of silence, but Tommy was too far in to go back now.

"Cuz' I only wanted you to touch. Only ever you." Your heart stopped. His eyes slowly opened, meeting yours. His gaze snapped to your lips, back up to your eyes. All it took was for your eyes to snap to his lush mouth, and he was surging to meet you.

You felt like you were melting, melding into him. His lips were sliding against yours, his hands suddenly huge, thumbs cupping your face while his hands rested on the sides of your neck. He kissed like you see him fight. The urgency and the power and the emotion. You ached all over.

You could hardly remember your name when you finally separated, heaving lungfuls of air. Maybe all that oxygen deprivation had really done something to your brain, because you might be having a stroke. It almost smelled like something was burning. Tommy's face did something funny and he sniffed the air.

Oh. OH. The garlic bread.

Both of you made a mad dash for the kitchen, Tommy arriving first and throwing the oven door open, grabbing whatever cloth he could find to take out the charred bread as you used a dishrag to flap away any smoke that spilled out.

Once he made sure his apartment wasn't going to burn down or that the ambulance wan't going to be making a surprise visit, he slumped against the counter, breathing heavily. You put your hands on your hips.

A few second went by, both of you trying to catch your breath. Tommy looked up at you. You met his eye.

You both melted into peeling laughter, trying to stay upright. It seemed like every time you two would get your shit together, you'd fall right back into cackles.

He finally reigned in the worst of the laughter, and slowly made his way to where you were standing. Your own laughs died down.

"Are we good?" you ask him gently. He nods his head, with his sweet smile.

"We're good" he replies gently. He gets this determined look on his face, and steps real close to you. He doesn't do anything else for awhile, instead looking to you, asking with questioning eyes.

You give him an encouraging smile. He smiles right back at you, and for the second time tonight, strong arms envelop you.

[missamyrisa2]

my gf and i have started introducing tickling into our sex life and she told me she wants me to make her cum by tickling her with feathers and paintbrushes. she's a pretty shy and submissive lee and loves to be teased and gets flustered really easily. i want to make it a fun experience for her. any tips for tickling and teasing her well?

Oooh the brushy soft ticklegasm is such a delight ~<3 And with a flustery ticklee you've got quite the package my dear~ sooo my technique with an adorably sweet ticklee like this is to start with the snuggles. I would be cuddling up, letting my body and soft outfit graze their skin as I carefully and slowly strip away their clothes, tossing them aside one piece at a time. The lower royal spots are tempting to show love first, but it's soo fun and tickly to start with the nipples, exploring around in circles with the supple brush and mixing in the occasional kiss and lick (or suckle, if they're into it~<3). It's like a little overture, a preview of the tickles and teases to come and cum. Being up at the chest also allows you to lay down a lovely layer of verbal coos and compliments. I never let up with my little admirations and exclamations, making sure they know how cute I find every reaction and twitch, how adorable all those sounds are, and that they need to be tickled and teased. A flustery lee will probably try to explain away their ticklishness or deny their cuteness, and that's always the perfect time to really taunt~ saying I'm just gonna have to tickle and tickle until you admit it ~<3

But it's so hard to stay in upper deck foreplay forever when there's sweet elegant buttons to push below. The journey downward is an important one, it sets the tone of what's to come. I love doing the kisses on each nipple, taking them between my lips and brushing and sucking softly to get their motor really revved before I begin kissing downward, making a trail in the center to their navel as my fingers ever so lightly spider from the underarms following closely to my head. My kisses lead the way, muah muah all the way down with loving prints and pauses to brush against their sensitive skin~ while my fingers are a step behind lightly stroking the ribs and teasing their sides with brisk rubbings. My tongue dips into the bellybutton while we pause for silly tickles, and then it's onward and downward. This is a wonderful setup to arrive between their legs with a loving triangle of kisses around their button while my fingers part their thighs and start stroking playfully. They'll think the kisses are going to continue and some wonderful pleasures are coming, but this is where the tickles ramp up instead ~ it's such a mean lil tease but very much softened with some sass and uh-uh gotta tickle this button first ~<3

Picking the correct tool to start with is super important, because you have to keep that momentum rolling. And the right tool really depends on the ticklee. If they're super squirmy at this point and not tied down, the feather may not be the best option because you really need to be slow and deliberate and let them feel that impossibly soft tip tickling the button. If you can get a good grip or they'll listen to a ~stay~ command, start with the feather. The long drag on the side of the clit, taking the full length of the feather's edge is suuuuch an electric move and will step the tickles up quickly if done correctly. I love to alternate the long stroke with positioning my fingers to hold around the button while the tip of the feather gently dips and bobs down to dance on the surface ~ this is particularly useful if they have a good swell going on ~<3 If you opt to start with the brush, it's just as lovely. A good makeup brush can coat that adorable button easily, no matter how much they writhe and struggle ~ and I love how the makeup brush is like the girliest tickle tool, you can really use that in your verbal taunts to fluster your lee more, remarking how the blushy blushy brushy brush is making their clitty so blushy ~hmm is it the brush or maybe they're blushing on their cute buttony button~ A fine tip brush is just as useful for those precision tickles with twirls and strokes ~ if you really know you're ticklee's button map, this one can be sooo deadly and it pairs nicely with the disengenous tickle tease, y'know saying I don't know why you're so squirmy it's just a tiny little paintbrush I mean can you even feel this? That can't possible tickle, nope it doesn't tickle at all huh? You're really showing me how bad I am, acting like you're laughing and moaning so much. You're so sweet to do that~<3

At this point you can work two tools ~ it's a delight to get that rhythm going where you have a feather tracing their lips up and down and a brush dancing on the swollen clitty. Keep your smiles and knowing smirks up, this is sooo helpful in keeping a ticklee teetering, seeing your facial expression flipping between concentrating on their buttons with a smirk and a warm delighted smile when you make eye contact. And of course, call it a clitty. Talk about their girlihood. Coo over those royal areas and their elegance. If your ticklee isn't soo blushy and twisting at your words you need to step up your verbal game~ it's like having an intangible tickle tool at your disposal which they cannot get away from or block~<3 And from there it's really a rinse and repeat ~ alternate the tools, keep that button always covered in tickly attention, reach up and get the navel and nipples occasionally or shock with a graspy tickle on a hot spot. But most of all, don't give in to a heavier pleasure ~ my final tip is to find the hottest spots and touches for them and then immediately move on to another spot acting like you didn't notice that super giggle moany reaction. And then go back to it and refuse to move from that hot spot until they're a giggling melted mess. The brushy feathery ticklegasm can be a lengthy journey but it's sooo wonderful and lovely and afterwords you'll have the best cuddles ever ~ well, after you make sure to layer some extra teasy kissy tickles on those thighs in the post-ticklegasm period<3

[kkurainmyheart]

JEANPIKU WEEK, DAY 1 FREE SPACE

English is not my first language so here's the link for the original in Spanish. And below, the english version.

The night was peaceful, the music that came from the gramophone brought joy to the room illuminated by the softness of the pendant lamp that spread the rays through its bright windows. The room with pink walls and pompous white armchairs to match the curtains that revealed in its decoration the soft personality of the hosts of the place. The white fireplace crackled in a corner burning the logs that had been placed at some point during the day, the fire was reflected in the whiskey glasses that are located on the dark table on which part of the so-called Alliance played cards.

"I'm telling you, I was the best at playing cards."

"I believe you, Jean," Pieck smirked at her side.

Reiner, totally focused, took two cards from the deck and threw a card on the table.

"Even if I don't want to admit it, you're right," Connie mentioned. "He was the only bastard who understood the dynamics of the game, although I was the best at resisting when we drank."

Armin smiled nodding, under the table in a rapid movement he exchanged 3 cards with Annie's, nobody noticed.

"Who was the best drinking of the warriors?"

The boy from Ragako spoke again, before taking his glass and giving him a sip that burned his throat.

Pieck, Reiner, and Annie looked at him. It was not abnormal for this type of questioning between them, after the rumble they had invented a way to become close and maybe, just maybe, it also became a method of mutual forgiveness. Knowing their motives and circumstances helped them heal.

"I wasn't around long enough to know that, but I'm also curious, I guess Porco? or maybe you, Reiner,”

The blonde asked with interest, she had changed too much with Armin's company, she took 3 cards from the deck.

"Actually, it was her," the former titan pointed at the brunette who was sitting in front of him.

They felt Pieck's laughter rise at the sound of the music as she nodded in amusement. Jean and Connie's mouth dropped open in surprise, Armin raised an eyebrow. They had been together for five years, and on none of those occasions had the former wielder of the cart titan had more than a glass or two. Also, just looking at her petite build told everyone that Reiner was joking.

"I'm also the fastest drinking,"

she casually mentioned as she lowered her cards onto the table, 2 scales and a three of a kind to beat.

The petite woman who today wore a white shirt with a beautiful blue cotton skirt smiled as she rested her head on her arms that braced themselves on the table.

“It is impossible!”

"What's wrong Connie?" She said looking at him with bright eyes ”do you want me to prove it by defeating you in front of your friends? Armin please stop cheating” changing her gaze to the blonde who observed her embarrassed.

"You wouldn't in a million years, Angel. " Connie used the nickname derisively as she lowered her cards, four threesomes.

They both looked at each other seriously, making the rest of the table uncomfortable.

"You really didn't use that nickname!"

“I did it! Angel! Angel! Angel!” Shouted the boy sarcastically.

Pieck hit the table with both fists attracting everyone's attention, she felt frustrated and angry, no one called her that except the person who had given her the nickname.

"Bring alcohol! I'm going to make this competitive bastard cry!”

Soon the cards were replaced with glasses and bottles filled with fine liquor. The bets were not long in coming, they were soldiers, after all, betting was a tradition. Reiner and Annie decided to bet their money on Pieck; Jean and Armin had done the same for Connie. After many rounds of alcohol, they not only had a clear winner but two completely drunk people sleeping on the table.

A happy Annie put her money in the pocket of her caramel coat as she hummed the happy tune; Reiner counted his money in front of the losers, it was after 5 in the morning, they had to go home. They decided that it was wise to help clean up the house, while Annie was in charge of carrying the glasses to the kitchen along with Armin, Reiner would make sure that Connie did not choke on her own vomit; That left Jean taking over as the champion of the night.

Jean rolled his green shirt up to his elbows, then wrapped the girl's arm around his shoulder and helped her up; a very dizzy Pieck cooperated in the first meters of their journey; almost reaching the second-floor things got brutal. Jean was careless for two seconds and the girl was with half of her body hanging from the railing, trying to reach something that no one else saw; it was like a little 3-year-old girl discovering the world for the first time

“Sight! A butterfly!” She shouted, spreading his hands.

"Yes, yes Pieck" Jean addressed her calmly while holding her slim waist blocking her unexpected suicide attempt "come here."

He pressed the small woman against his chest to keep control over her, of course, there were no butterflies inside the house; the woman's imagination was at an all-time high and Jean was amused. He had seen other drunks before, but it was the first time he had seen the girl that way, her black hair still clung to the low ponytail with which she had started the day so he could see their expressions of astonishment at everything that she thought that saw.

“Is blue! Look how pretty, Jeanbo!”

The girl let go of his grip this time running down the hallway with white walls and pink carpet with intricate details; she almost tripped over the potted plants of the ficus plants that grow indoors. Jean sighed and took long strides to catch up with her, grabbing her sleeve and pulling her against him.

"Come on Pieck, let's put you to bed."

"But the butterfly?" She looked at him with sad eyes.

She really wanted to go after her imaginary little friend. Jean tried to walk with her to the other side of the hall where her room was supposed to be, they stumbled a couple of times in a clumsy forest of legs.

"Where's my butterfly ?!” She said scared, her eyes showed the terror she felt, and her mouth tightened in a line

"I don't know Pieck," he said tiredly.

He felt the girl cling to him, putting her ear close to his toned chest covered by the emerald shirt. He heard her sigh loudly and saw her tremble and then begin to cry loudly against his chest.

“Why are you crying?” his amber eyes and his voice denoted concern

Pieck stared into his eyes with fury and furrowed brows

"You ate it !!" she yelled

“What?”

"You ate my butterfly!" Tears flowed from his dark eyes like soft summer rain

“Of course not!”

“Yes! You did it! It's flapping in your chest!”

Of course, it didn't. First, there were no butterflies, secondly Jean would never eat a butterfly, and third, it was more than obvious that it was his heart beating indomitable for having her close. Maybe if she had been sober she would have said it, released what she felt like she wanted him to release that butterfly; but Jean, he was sure that she would not remember any of this the next day. So he decided to play around with this a bit.

"Yes, I ate it," he said with a slight smile as he stroked the girl's hair with one of his hands. "What will you do about it?"

Pieck was thoughtful for a moment, then in one swift movement, she laid her head back on the tall man's chest. She whispers against him:

"I'll get you out of there little friend, I promise ." She looked at him defiantly. "Spit it out!"

“Of course not!” Jean laughed at the ridiculous situation

"Don't make me take her out, Jean!" she said with a terrifying command voice, my God! He loved that terrifying command voice.

"I repeat, what are you going to do about it?" He took his hands to his hips, arrogant.

The petite woman stopped staring at Jean's chest silently, blinked a few times, and then her expression lit up in knowledge. She closed the distance between them, pulling the collar of the man's shirt so that they were both at the same height, then without saying a word or changing expression together with their mouths in a dirty kiss, violently sucking on Jean's tongue in the process. He snapped his neck out, and widened his eyes, he really didn't expect that

“What are you doing?” stuttering

"Sucking the butterfly out of you," she replied calmly and smugly, "so be a good boy and come back here. I have work to do and I still feel her flapping here.” She touched her slender fingers to Jean's chest, right above his heart.

He froze for a moment then a smile of understanding adorned his lips, he approached her mouth seductively.

"Let me help you," he whispered.

They began to kiss euphorically and hot, their breaths shaking, Jean's hands pressing her closer to his body, almost merging with each other. At some point, he lifted her up and the woman wrapped her legs around his waist as she played with his ash blonde hair. The tall man's big hands went up and down the brunette's small back. They parted gasping for air.

“Jean…

"Pieck ...

They both brought their foreheads together, she whispered to him with concern as she looked at him with regret.

"I think I swallowed the butterfly, I feel it beating here now." She pointed to her own chest, where her own racing heart was beating

Jean smiled.

“So let me help you again”

He was about to start a new kiss when Pieck stirred to release herself, he left her on the ground again looking at her strangely. She put her hands to her head, wincing.

"My head feels funny, oh my, is your girlfriend waiting for you?" Sighed “I also have a boyfriend? I can not remember”

"If you have it, come on, I'll take you to bed ."

The blonde sighed, took the impulse to take her in his arms, he also felt tired. Pieck rested her head on his shoulder and he could feel the calm breathing of the girl on his neck, she had fallen asleep.

He put the woman on the two-body bed with the blue coverlet; he lit the white lamp on the bedside table; he removed her heels and then positioned her on her side under the blankets; He kissed her forehead; he tucks the dark locks behind her ears and tucks her in.

He walked to the bathroom behind the white door in the corner of the room, filled a glass with water, and retraced his steps to place it on the nightstand. He watched the girl sleep and laughed as quietly as he could. He knelt beside the bed.

"I think you drank a lot today, Mrs. Kirstein”

He took the delicate hand of the girl, the hand that had a delicate wedding band on the ring finger, and kissed it fondly.

"I'm going to take Connie to his home and when I come back we'll take care of your clothes." He placed a kiss on her slightly parted pink lips. "I'll be right back, my angel."

He quickly descended the stairs, the walls of which hung photos of his wedding and his friends. Five years had not passed in vain.

“Let 's go?”

He was still amazed at how heavy Connie could be when he got drunk.

Jean woke up at noon the next day with a butterfly beating strongly in his chest, his wife sitting on his lap looking at him embarrassed.

"Please Jean, don't let me drink again."

"As you order, my Angel."

[luthorao3]

I swear I'm going to send this and then I'm suddenly going to notice several grammatical mistakes immediately after, but here's that longer-than-intended summary for MC and Nadia meeting in the Pirate AU!

MC slips onto a merchant ship one night as a scout to check if the merchant has a particular treasure the Poppy is after. She sneaks over the side after Leon uses a small row boat to get close to the side of the anchored ship (the Gilded Poppy itself is hidden some distance away so nobody in a crow's nest can raise the alarm, and row boats are much harder to spot in the dark and less threatening anyway). Leon rows back, and is meant to drop back to pick her up after an hour or so to give her time to map out the place, assess if the treasure is there, if it is work out security measures, guard numbers, etc.

It's just MC's luck that the merchant ship is attacked by The Flashpoint within that exact hour, when Leon's too far away to do anything and the rest of the Poppy is blissfully unaware.

Nadia does not believe in the Gilded Poppy myth. Like many others, she finds the notion of a ship only ever appearing out of the fog and pirates who leave no casualties ridiculous. So, when amongst the chaos fighting she finds a woman who is clearly not with the merchant or the standard crew of the ship, she's intrigued but doesn't even consider the idea of the Poppy symbol she wears meaning anything significant. Her first thought is stowaway, which she taunts MC with as she smacks her cutlass with her own, thinking that MC had just picked it up during the battle.

But MC surprises her by fighting back, and it's obvious that MC has been taught by someone how to fight, even if she isn't as practiced as Nadia is. It's enough of a surprise to intrigue her even more, and while they're fighting (sparring really, Nadia isn't about to kill a beautiful woman when she hasn't worked out the mystery of her yet - she wants to know and it's the challenge of working it out) MC isn't losing control despite clearly being irritated, but she keeps up with the banter Nadia throws her way, trying to verbally distract her, and when the ship's starting to sink Nadia takes the opportunity to disarm MC and knock her out.

Which is how MC wakes up in The Flashpoint, in a cell with shackles around her wrists. Nadia visits, smug and obnoxious and prodding, asking questions that MC either evades or twists around on Nadia until Nadia realises five minutes later that she never answered.

And Nadia loves challenges, so even if the mysterious woman in her cell is frustrating as hell, she's still curious and determined (and amused, when MC gets particularly annoyed or flustered - isn't that blush a nice colour on her? And maybe Nadia's also flirting a bit despite MC saying that she's taken). Maybe she even arranges a dinner between them, partly to flirt, partly to lower MC's guard and try to get some information out of her.

And she does. MC warns her that her crew will be coming to rescue her. Nadia pays attention to the newfound knowledge that MC's a pirate, but dismisses the idea that The Flashpoint would be attacked. They had open waters on all sides bar some cliffs on starboard's side they were using to hide, and the alarm would be raised if the lookout saw a ship gunning for them, and someone would have noticed if a trail was being left behind (pity she never thought that a Hippocampus could track a boat unseen and lead another ship onwards). She offers MC a spot on Flashpoint which is firmly declined and Nadia's sure that she'll change her mind given enough time when her crew don't find her.

MC smirks a little at that.

Two nights later, fog descends. Nadia can barely see a thing as she barks orders to her crew - the navigator needs to stop so they don't steer straight into a rock for fucks sake, and someone deal with the sails so they don't pick up the wind. Then she's noticing movement in the fog, and she's squinting to try and see but the fog keeps getting thicker.

"Looks like I win our bet, Captain."

MC's on the upper deck, looking down at her grinning, and she should be in a cell, not up there, but then her words register and Nadia spins around, trying to see if it is a ship and what the sail looks like because what lunatics would sail in fog this bad?

A Poppy sail stares back at her for two seconds before the fog thickens until she can barely see the outline. The enemy ship is faint, a ghostly image as it bears down on her. For a moment she thinks she can see a silhouette of a man at the helm, and she sees a shape on his shoulder but it's not a parrot being used by someone trying to fit the stereotype, it's a cat. A freaking cat is standing across his shoulders.

Gunpowder lights up, exploding in an empty part of The Flashpoint - courtesy of Jett who slipped on board unnoticed not long ago through the same row boat technique MC used with the merchant's boat. He hadn't even needed to bring his own gunpowder because Nadia keeps an extreme/dangerous amount of it onboard. In fact he had done away with some of it to keep the explosion from being too large. Nadia's crew is in chaos and people are already diving overboard to swim to shore as the boat gains water, and someone has just used a rope to swing over her head like some heroic figure from an old fable to land at MC's side.

"Ready to go, darling?"

MC tosses Nadia a grin and a wave as Vivienne (who wears a half-mask that leaves her mouth and lipstick uncovered), wraps an arm around her and they leap over to the Gilded Poppy as it steers dangerously close to the sinking ship. Nadia memorises MC's face, the woman with the red-painted lips, the Poppy sail, and the look of the ship as best as she can in the fog as she dives overboard to swim for shore.

She memorises anything that could help her track down the ship again.

HIHIHIHIHI IM LOVE THIS A LOT!!

i can just perfectly picture the stank look on nadia’s face at the end— and then it twisting into an excited little smile. nadia’s never had the patience for mystery but, oh, she enjoys a challenge…

nadia obsessing over the poppy, figuring out their m.o., the trail of slaver vessels that mysteriously lose all of their cargo and then sink to the bottom of the ocean, never to be used again… the poppy certainly isn’t without her enemies, and nadia keeps an ear to the wind for those, too. when the poppy actually get themselves into a bit of a pickle, nadia is there. flashpoint would be known for her guns - for nadia’s tendency to blow anything that’s coming her way out of the water (the gilded poppy were lucky that they caught her crew by surprise, that night) - and nadia runs bloody riot on those who come to track the poppy down. and it’s a bloodbath. the poppy would be so turned off. but in the midst of it, a sliver on uncertainty. had flashpoint meant to ally herself with the poppy, or was nadia simply bearing her teeth?

i want the mental image of nadia and mc sword fighting etching into my eyelids, thanks! nadia with those god awful old pistols, too. and covered in scars. aaaaah, baby baby…..

[onepiece-imagines-bartoloclub]

(Decided to work on a different headcannon while I fix the first one, been getting writer's block with that one and I don't wanna leave yall empty handed. Still trying to figure out how to write these headcannons so bare with me if this one seems like a weird mix of a headcannon and scenario. Thank you @bootyshakerkegrimm for the request, I hope you enjoy! 💖❤💖❤💖❤💖❤)

~ How Brook would propose to his fem s.o ~

•The day, a year beforehand, when his s.o asked him "Hey Brook, how do you feel about marriage?", his response may have consisted of a skeleton joke and a tiny bit of denial in his mind about the possibility, the numbers of months afterwards left him pondering and considering the question. Now, he knows that now is the right time and he wants to make it great.

•It would start off as a long and strenuous set of days planning and coming up with ideas in his room. He'd spend most of his days there, except for when he wants to play something for his crew to ease his nerves, with his floor full of balls of paper with unfinished sheets.

•An idea comes to his mind and he asks Robin for help, since she can keep a secret much better than the rest of the crew. She goes and talks to Nami and Jinbei about the the specific location they're at and their responses left Brook much more hopeful about how well his plan will be executed.

•A few weeks pass by an Brook's confidence skyrockets as he Sanji and Franky's help. Nami finds out and surprisingly offers him her assistance with keeping Luffy, Zoro, Chopper and his s.o busy, but while the service may be free there are some future "fees" that he'll have to repay.

•Robin takes her to the main deck while having her wear a blindfold. With slight confusion, she goes along with this since she knows not to question the archeologist. When they reach the grassy deck, it was unsually quiet, save for some idle chattering she can hear; Robin unties the blindfold and his s.o was confused by the sight that greeted her.

•The lights Franky installed made it easy to see the crew during the night as the strawhats were scattered around the deck, with Usopp, Luffy and Chopper sitting on the floor and talking to each other with Robin reading a book next to them. Sanji was nowhere to be seen and Jinbe and Franky were near the helm on top of Robin and Brook's s.o and Zoro was sleeping near the door.

•But in the middle of the deck stood Brook, clad in a white suit and hat, his violin was in one of his hands while his other arm was behind his back, he stood tall and proud as the chatter quieted down when they notice his s.o walk onto the grassy deck. She goes to Brook, confused about what the suprise was.

•He puts his violin down and grabs one of her hands in his, while keeping his other arm behind him.

"Y/N, having been a guard of a royal family, I know this occasion should've been much more formal, but I know these standards don't apply to pirates. But, for years you've made me feel like I'm worth more even with my... physical limits. In all of those years with you, I've never felt more alive, even though I died! You stayed with me for so long, and I just want to stay with you for as long as my old bones stay active and play music for you, so.... I wanted to ask you this." He kneels on one leg, lowering to their height, and removes his arm from his back.

•She gasps when he pulls out a gold ring, his gaze never leaving hers. "Y/N, will you give this skeleton the honor of--" "YES!" She tackles him with a hug, almost knocking him to the ground and the audience chuckles, give it a strawhat credit for breaking the moment. He hugs her close while giving Franky a nod.

•Even while covered in tears, Franky presses a button and a lot of speakers come out and more lights turn on. She looks around and at Brook, whose hair is covering their view. He slowly stands up while hugging them and lead them to the railing of the deck.

"With Nami and Jinbe's help, I knew this would be the perfect moment to ask. Look." She looks out into the ocean and see large bodies sprout from the water, loud droaning can be heard as she sees the backs of large whales around the ship. The speakers turn on and out comes a slower version of Bink's Sake, a version that she recognizes was done by Brook.

•He places the ring into her finger and steps away from her and offers her his hand, she grabs it and they interlock as their feet move automatically while the music plays. They slowly dance in each other's arms while the whales harmonize, enjoying the music. The moment was perfect, they didn't even notice that they've been in each other's arms and dancing even after Sanji brought out a large cake for the crew.

•Nobody thought to disturb them as they hugged each other close. It took until the deck was only occupied with a few sleeping crewmembers and the song to end for them to stop slow dancing. They look around at the nearly empty deck and laugh.

"It seems we got too caught up in our little world. Though I wouldn't mind if that were the cause, ain't that right Brook?"

"I might agree with you, but how would I play music for my crew?"

"Speaking of playing, why did you bring your violin if you weren't going to play it?"

"Presentation, I wanted to dance with you AND play a special song, but I can only do so much. I'm a skeleton but not as handy as Robin, yohoho!"

"What about the whales?"

"They sing beautifully, and it reminds me of Laboon. It made me feel like I was with my the two most important people in my life."

"What did I ever do to get someone like you?"

"Yohohoho! I should be the one to ask you that! You've given this old man so much, it just makes my heart soar out of my ribcage, and I don't have a heart! Yohoho! No amount of paper in the world can fit a song about everything that I love about you."

"Thank you Brook, for everything."

"No, thank you giving me life."

•Their night is sealed with a kiss, his proposal might not be as extravagant or traditional, but she loved it regardless and still chose to be with him of all people. If they decide to make a proper wedding, he hopes they get to Laboon or have it be live so that Crocus and Laboon can see it. He's just happy that starting now and onwards, it'll be the best second chance he's been given and he'll make sure to keep it that way.

[blahallic]

I have to start a new memo because the other one is too long and the app keeps freezing. Well it's as though Marci and Marci fucking get at me and it seems like i'd probably have gone back to my kingdom if I had the choice. I wish I would have thought about egyptians being outside of themselves and shit. It really does fucking suck that it's this way. I waited for ya. I waited for ya. But now I don't. You didn't see it. I didn't see it. I didn't see it but now I do. I'll play your game. I'll play your game. No.

Get on your horse and be gone. I will not wait up for you anymore so you can ask me if something is wrong.

I remember being 17 and how I started being bi. Like, that shit was so fucking confusing to me. I did not want to like boys. When he comes out it's not a surprise. When he finds out the truths on his side.

Evil grounds. No, but i'm already there. Every night. What the hell happens when you arrive? I kind of dig this not having a job bullshit and just sleeping all I fucking want. It's such a good thing that the place I was working shut down like my Mustang. I wasn't into it at all. I can kinda be into working at Cheddars. Like, it's something to fucking do because i'm making money. I could deal with working at that place. Being in the lower dimensions and all. I guess I have to get used to having roommates and what not. It's just like a living room and a kitchen with 4 rooms. I just keep to myself really. It's like ratchet to me. I dunno. Sucks that i'm here for the next year. I'll be fine though. I'm glad my phone isn't freezing anymore. Close the door, not all the way. We don't understand, we don't understand. So don't you want to remind me, I don't know a thing. Can I stand in your light just for a while? Watching you. Watson you. Emma is like the cutest girl there ever was. Same with Luna. I have always loved Emma. I should have known that liking someone that much kinda means you can see them. I had it out for her for the longest time. She was always around when my cancer first started. I would talk and sing to her a bunch. Can I stand in your light just for a while? Watson you. Watson you. I miss my BMW. I wish I could have figured out how to keep it and have driven to dad's car in it. Dunno how that would work or how I would have had the capacity to find the place. Probabaly not. I would have to just find myself there. I was just sitting upstairs on the computer or whatever. As far as I remember. Emma was in a black dress on my dashboard. It was quite appropriate. Like, it matched dad and his appearance. It showed up in my hood too. I remember eating McDonalds and paddle shifting or whatever. That only happened once. I wonder how much Cole was into his paddles. I remember there being a blk too. And finding all that cash and a pair of Bans was also sweet. I was like asking people for gas when my glovebox had cash in it the whole time. Kinda weird.

Decide my past. Define my life. Don't ask questions cause I don't know why. I really don't get all of this fucking trouble bullshit. It doesn't really make any sense. It has me wanting my sun like desperately. I could use that and shit. Like, a lot. Even though it's not permenant. God this fucking sucks. I want to be able to chill with pyri on with my fucking people. I can't stand any of them though so no thanks. And to top it off I might not like pyramids? Because I lost a folds contest. Whatever that fucking means. I wish black and orange had my back. I mean, they were kinda at my funeral. I don't get how you notice a ring in my hair but not that I needed a sun. You were kinda a strange string too. Like, your string was strange. You looked strange and that's just what I fucking got from that shit. I wanted you making out with your friend and you failed to notice that too. I wish I would have had the capacity to just tell you or your leader that I need dad's car back and that someone needs to harp airport. So Julian was Todd and I get off on that like a lot. Juliet was Todd's girl.

Alice was fucking spout when she was about for me with Taylor. Shutter making is where it's at to me. I hope I feel like this until I catch some shuteye. I want to beat Ocorana Of Time in Cara's apartment. Again, this blows. It's just that if it's generalized and if people fucking talk and get with it then I want some attention from someone. Like to actually talk to someone about what is going on would help me out a lot. I still don't understand much of this. Playing ellipsis machine over Sonny Moore would be crazy too. Is Nik crazy? Yeaaahhh. Terror shadows. The barrier between who I am and who I want to be. Note to self, I miss you terribly. This is what we call a tradgedy. Come back to, come back to me, to me. And i'm sick of this scene. I need a break from you tank. I can feel my mind wandering again. And to where I don't know. Will I ever get home. Two roads, split up from here. And my life goes running. Who I am and who I want to be. Hurts blood. I feel so close and yet i'm yet so far. Hurts blood. I feel so close, and yet i'm yet so far!

I miss BMW days. Like having cash, dressing fucking nice and having a cool watch and a grip of jewel. I liked my box of cds. That car was quick too. I outran a cop on accident. Nothing I would ever be capable of doing on purpose. Just a coincidence I guess. What I thought was a certainty. Has left me. Spinning in circles again. It seems to me that you're not happy. Like you used to be. And now there's more green eggs and you'll never ever go away. And now there's more green eggs and you'll never ever go away. Is buried by my rusty eye and I can't see. No I can't breathe.

So I wonder why my dad doesn't see that i'm someone that gets married. I would never choose to be single here. That's why this fucking sucks. Like, hard. Wish I could just jump back to my dimension change. Never and not even really something to think about. I wonder what shorts is up to. And I wonder how The Curry Campbell is. Tut and I discussed The Curry Campbell. This paper into fire. Into fire. Into this fire. Yeah! This paper, into fire. And throw me with it, just throw me with it. I wish I could go to the club. Last time I was there I almost spent $100. I wanna dance with a girl. I remember a girl that was my sister in cancer world gave me a beaded bracelet that said dance. I kept it for some time. I had it with me when I took off in dad's car. I wanted to see Tyler too. Cole said he smoked him out with some fire. What a meet that could have been. Weaving The Values.

Sailing alone around the room. With no direction to go. Sailing alone around the room. Sailing alone around the room! I am not sex here. And I guess I can get off some on that simple fact. I don't like that Lesley up and yelled at my ass. Not your fucking place bitch. Why'd you fucking apologize? You didn't bleed on my shirt fuck. I wouldn't have really slept with you unless it was Hallowed either. Anyway...I should have fought for sorry ass boyfriend Lesley.

My phone is rather close to dying. It's kind of a piece of shit. Like a picchan boy would say. I'm glad that that kid had my back like he did. Dunno. That really means a lot to me. And I guess I wish I had had the dimension to answer your question Ciara. It didn't work that way though and it's no reason to put someone off. Especially after what those people got at me with. Sorry, but that shit wouldn't have done anything. Too fucking evil. I guess you can choke on it. Or whatever. The whole friend bit with Nolan. I don't understand what that was. Like, cancer or something. Who knows what that was. I know I don't. With no direction to go. So keep me alive. So keep me alive.

I wonder what else there is. Cancer pyri and whatnot. I like my parking garage mask. And I liked gaining ounce with Kyle turned on by mask. I also like that Sam caught me a worm. And I really liked her kisses. I remember kissing you and stuff. And taking you into a garage with a car parked in it for us to have our way with eachother. I need out of all of this. That'd be fucking crazy. I wish my phone wasn't gay. I want a One. And fucking torrent. I need a Playstation Plus account so that I can COD myself. I miss Madi. I want to see you. You dig Halloween like I do. I wonder if we ate food together. Probably not. I doubt I ordered your ass a pizza. Wonder how I even got your number. I mean Cara wouldn't really have given it to me. I wonder if there was a squirtle in Cara's apartment. Like in 2D or something. And I wonder what Pokemon I would have chosen for my rearview mirror. I wish I knew. I mean if there was a Squirtle that's probably what I would have got. There wouldn't have been sunglasses though and this i'm sure of. I want a Pocket Monster card collection like Cole. He had decks to play the Pokemon Trading Card game with Cara. There's an astral of that and shit. There's another one of me proposing and of us getting married. It's weird that you would have only liked me half as much as all of the other girls until marraige. Kinda goes with your brat bit. And how you were into that shit. A remour. Like, cutting underneath heed is not something to do to me. It just doesn't make any sense. Like, at all. Kind of puts me up to what everyone else is doing. Bleeding here. I guess just one cut is what i'm into right now. I need a fucking COD habit. Like, a lot. Rather fucking badly. That's kind of a gash below my wrist. I'm kind of writing while bleeding. What kind of an asshole drives a lotus anyway? I used to call out at every Audi I ever saw a lotus. I remember those days. Comedown Machine sure has been out for a while. I'll be born again. Eli's on the phone. He cheats his clone. You'll never believe me until you're on your own.

I can dig that I picked up an ice habit. It really is something to do to me. I like it, just not a lot. I want my pyri shut down. This is stupid. I feel like if an egyptian were to time travel. Like just a joe or something. That they would get with everyone else and disregard my ass as their king and what not. Whatever. That's not really a cool thing to realize and such. Marci isn't around anymore. She took off. Scardy cat. Again, whatever. So it's cool that humans bring back dinosaurs. And it's strange how a meteor took them out when humans were about back then. It's kinda hard to believe that it was a meteor and such for some reason. It's also neat that i'm stamped with Gemini. It's cool that Emma would have noticed. And how it would have been something that doesn't exist yet with it still being tattooed on my wrist. Cara would have noticed the snake in my hair. I wish I still had my dreads. I liked that look. It seemed that there wasn't anything else to do with it. I guess i'll deal with just having long hair. Like in the picture that's in Cara's soul. Whatever. A head shave is also kinda below this bullshit. I don't know how I was supposed to meet Cara and Ezra like that. Or how I was to fucking part with my hair gone either. I have a pair of Oakley's from the last car that I stole. I kinda like them and stuff. They're a bit neat. I'm like off my icee but it's still a bit linger. That was like Curry and I's song. Linger, that is. Harlequin is such the place to miss. Like, a lot. It's cool that there's just a field, a plane, and a fold. And that that's what took me to airplane mode. I wish someone would have helped my ass out with that shit. Even before I was arrested. I mean, I needed a sun. I needed a way out of town. Even though I thought I was to marry Ciara already. Can't really believe that's what I was doing. Doesn't really make a terrible amount of sense. Backup plan unsuccess. Unfortunately. This blows some more. Yes, if you insist. Okay. A doorbell. Tonight. Might need a lawyer. Next up the oldies, where there's a forest, we don't belong. It's going to be strange being sex and finding out how I was born here. I'm sure it's not going to be that great for me. I mean, I get that i'm into loosing twice. And because i'm into it, I don't want my mind changing. So I hope it doesn't.

I wish I could play Partners In Crime with Island Girl. Maybe with my BMW instead of the Mazda. And maybe I could give her the first issue spidy com. Like, as a gift of sorts for us wanting to hold hands per deum. I love you Alice. If only we could have found dad's car together. And maybe we could have just married eachother instead of me playing Harlequin. Like, a Mustang with you and an apartment. That would be cool. I'd have a legal BMW to drive around too. If we could just fuck off in El Paso all the time. Like, going out to eat and maybe clubs. Or whatever else there is to do? Miniature golf? I would definitely be up for Partners In Crime Island Girl. And to me, we should have seen one another. You would have loved me Alice. Like, a lot and stuff. I mean, it's kind of crazy how much you and every other girl would have liked me. I like adore you girl.