#for the new moots and anyone else who wants!!

[bloodykneestm]

like this for a short starter!

[hippiegoth97]

Random Spencer Reid Thought #1

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, smut, fem!reader, bau!reader, new relationship, sex at work, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, fingering, no use of Y/N, caught in the act (kinda, at the end), fluff

Some Tags: @hotwritergf @melodymunson @rafeyscurtainbangs @mediocredreams @loserboysandlithium

@bloodibambiidoll @littlexdeaths @sanctumdemunson @cairro-xx @veemoon (tbh I wasn't sure who all to tag, so I tagged some moots and people I know usually read my stuff. Feel free to ignore if it's not your thing tho lol)

"I swear to god, you're gonna get us caught one of these days, Reid." You say breathlessly, tugging on Spencer's tie to keep his lips close to yours. You'd dragged him into a nearby supply closet after the rest of the team had dispersed for lunch, most of them heading to a new BBQ place nearby. They'd asked you and Spencer to come along, but you've both had much more pressing things on your mind.

From the second you came in this morning (separately, of course, even though he'd stayed the night at your place), your eyes have wandered from your work to each other's desks from across the cluster. It's been absolute torture, forced to sit so far apart, unable to touch each other or whisper all the dirty things you plan to do later. All you had to get yourself by was vivid thoughts of Spencer tossing his papers away, stalking over to you, and bending you over your desk to fuck you silly. You're sure he was picturing similar filthy things, given how often he cleared his throat and crossed or uncrossed his legs. Although, the ideas inside his head are usually more centered around getting down on his knees and burying his face between your thighs. It's a wonder that nobody seemed to notice your discomfort, really. The amount of stolen glances and fidgeting in your seats are certainly behaviors that should set off a profiler's internal alarms. But, thus far, you've managed to fly just below everyone's radar.

You've been seeing each other for a few months now, keeping it a secret from everybody else. It started off as a fluke date shortly after you joined the BAU team, and Spencer took a shine to your quick wit and bottomless well of intellect in no time at all. He'd asked you out for coffee (after a barrage of peer-pressuring encouragement from Morgan), wanting to show you around a bit as you were new to the area at the time. Spencer was a complete gentleman, opening the door for you, pulling out your chair, offering you his jacket when you got cold. Add on the way you talked one another's ears off about everything under the sun, moon and stars, and you were hooked on each other in an instant. Neither of you had met anyone who could keep up, or maintain your interest before. By the time he walked you home that night, you shared in the knowledge that this...spark you felt was something special.

Things progressed rather quickly from there. You've gone out together at least once a week, even sneaking out at night during cases to get some quality time in. A dinner here, a tipsy make-out in either of your hotel rooms there, as well as more educational outings to the planetarium, various lectures, and art exhibits when you're at home base. It didn't take long to heat things up, either. Spencer was less experienced than you, having only a couple casual hook-ups under his belt, which went as awkwardly as one would expect. But you were patient with him, showing him what you like and what you don't, helping him figure out the same for himself. It was a simultaneously experimental and exhilarating experience for you both when you finally had sex the first time.

And now, here you are, all wandering hands and moaning mouths in a closet full of office supplies. Spencer's got you sitting on a metal filing cabinet, legs spread in your pencil skirt as he stands between them. His large hands grip and squeeze your thighs, while he rolls his hips to press his erection against your clothed cunt. "Don't act as if the idea of getting found out doesn't turn you on." Spencer teases, smiling against your lips as you tug him forward into another kiss.

"Maybe a little." You admit, letting his tongue slip into your mouth. Your eyes drift closed, and you feel his hand slowly slip further down your leg and under your skirt. His lithe fingers pull your panties to the side, rubbing sensual circles around your clit. You moan down his throat, your own hands reaching blindly for his belt now. You don't have a lot of time, as much as you hate to rush this.

"We should tell them soon. It's only a matter of time before they catch on." Spencer suggests, slipping two fingers into your soaked pussy with ease. The sound he ends up swallowing from your lungs makes his dick twitch inside his pants. Never in his life did he think he'd be so lucky to find a woman like you, or a woman at all, for that matter. Spencer enjoys every moment spent with you like it's his last, and it's been nice existing in this safe romantic bubble. But sneaking around has its disadvantages, namely having to keep his hands to himself when you're around the team. Far be it from Reid to be unprofessional in any sense, but, fuck, it's so hard to behave when you're around.

"I know, Penelope's been dropping lots of extra hints lately." You say with a light laugh, your insides boiling as Spencer curls his digits inside of you. They're perfectly long and slender, reaching all the right places every time. He's made you come with them alone on many occasions.

"I noticed. She's not very subtle." Reid chuckles, his gaze drifting down as you manage to get his belt unfastened. You waste no time in undoing to button and zip, reaching inside his boxers to grab hold of his aching length. According to you, he's very well endowed. Even though he's aware the average size of male genitalia is 5.1 inches when erect, he's never gotten curious enough to measure himself. A brief visual guess probably puts him at around seven or eight, not that he's all that concerned about it. All he cares about it making you happy, and his mind is far too vast to be fixated on how long his cock is.

"I don't think she ever has been." You comment, eyes focused on Spencer's dick in your grasp. He's rock solid, his tip rosy pink and leaking pearlescent precum. The sight makes your pussy throb around Reid's fingers. If you had more time, you'd drop to your knees in an instant.

"And that's why we love her." Spencer adds, groaning as you stroke him nice and slow. The both of you keep this up for a moment, zeroing in on one another's most sensitive areas that you've craved all day. Soft sighs and moans leave your mouths, mingling with the wet schlick sounds of your foreplay. "But, enough about the team." He says softly, meeting your gaze. His free hand cups your cheek, drawing you in closer as you stare into his beautiful brown eyes. "This moment is just for us." He nearly whispers as he kisses you deeply, lovingly. Neither of you have dropped the 'L' word yet, though you both certainly feel it for one another. But the time to say it definitely isn't during a lunchtime quickie in a damn closet. The occasion will present itself, at a later date.

While Spencer has your attention captured in the kiss, he gently takes his cock from your grasp and into his own. He gasps against you, tangling his tongue with yours to make your knees weak, just like you taught him. He gives his dick a couple fervent strokes, taking his fingers out of your cunt so he can line himself up. You whine at the loss, though your stomach twists in anticipation of what will soon take their place. Using his pruned fingers to hold your panties to the side, the sticky tip of Spencer's cock nudges against your center. More moans brew within your throats, kept hidden inside to prevent you from being discovered.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, hands tangling in his hair as you melt into him. His lips and tongue make you feel dizzy with lust, and his cockhead rutting against your folds is sending you into orbit. "Spence, please. I need you, baby." You plead between desperate kisses.

"I need you, too, you have no idea." Reid replies, pulling back just a moment so he can see what he's doing. He positions his dick at your entrance, and pushes inside at an agonizing pace. Low moans escape you both, you at the stretch, and him at the squeeze. "Fuck, you're so wet." Spencer says, trying to keep his cool.

"All for you, Spence." You say sweetly, locking your ankles behind his back, pulling him as close to you as possible with your legs. His hands return to your thighs, holding on tight as he begins to thrust.

Spencer starts off slow, watching as his cock pumps in and out of your pussy with no resistance. Your arousal makes him all shiny in the dim light, already forming a creamy ring around his base. "God, you're perfect." He exhales, unable to think of a single thing that looks as beautiful as this. The two of you, becoming one, your interlocking parts sculpted by nature to fit together flawlessly. Nothing within his expansive memory could possibly compare.

"So are you, baby. Can you go faster? We're running out of time." You beg pathetically, needing this release before you inevitably have to go back to work filling out papers and looking over crime scene photos.

"I hate how right you are about that." Spencer replies with a broken sigh, picking up speed with his thrusts. The infallibly accurate internal clock you share is ticking down, every push of his hips against yours marking each second that's taken from you. He plants his lips on yours again, focusing on giving you what those desperate noises you're making are telling him. You need him, all of him. Every last inch rutting into your sopping cunt until you see stars. And when it comes to you, Reid always aims to please.

"Fuck, Spence, just like that." You pant between fervent kisses, marveling at the way his cock pounds into your g-spot with flawless precision. The coil of arousal you've been building up since you sat down with your coffee this morning ripples and tangles with every thrust.

It becomes rather difficult for Spencer to keep kissing you when his pace picks up even more. His head falls forward, resting on your shoulder as he continues to wind you both up towards ecstasy. He turns his head slightly, hatching the naughty idea to speak lowly in your ear. "I can't wait until we get home later, and I can take my time with you." He says, trying so hard not to let the loud groans he wants to emit come through. They come out as hushed whimpers instead, which only turns you on more.

"Fuck." You let out a small noise of your own, muted as you bite down on your lower lip. But he hears it all the same, and keeps going.

"I'll spend all night touching you in all your favorite places, fuck you until the sun comes up, make you cry out for me as many times as you ask me to." His words are equally filthy and adoring, showing you just how much he wants to worship you and your body. Chills run up and down your spine as he speaks, his breath burning hot against your neck. It's nearly too much, and yet, you can't enough.

"God, Spence, please don't stop!" You moan, far too loudly.

"Now who's gonna get us caught?" Reid teases, even though the way you squealed nearly made him blow his load entirely.

"Sorry...sorry..." You pant the words out, for fear of being too loud again.

"It's okay, baby. I like knowing just how good I make you feel." He coos to you, almost sending you over the edge. Your walls squeeze around him tightly in warning. His breath catches at the sensation, right there with you in terms of how close you are to reaching climax. "God, that's it...you're so close, so am I. Gonna make you cum, gonna make you feel so good, I swear...so fucking good..." Spencer's mind sprints faster than his mouth can get the words out, barely audible as he buries himself further into your neck. He slams himself into you even harder, faster, chasing his release and dragging you alongside him.

"Spencer, oh my god." You gasp as he hits that perfect place inside you cunt even better than before, his hips pounding against yours hard enough to leave bruises. His hands dig into the flesh of your thighs, his mouth sucking and licking at your neck in a feverish need to make you lose control. It's definitely working, the waves of bliss beginning to roll over you in thick crashes. "Oh, god, make me cum, baby...don't stop, you feel so good..." You babble mindlessly as your insides flutter around Reid's dick, threatening to clamp down on him at any moment. "Fuck, oh, I'm gonna cum...oh, god- fuck...oh, spenceSpenceSPENCE!" You clap a hand over your mouth to conceal your scream as your orgasm takes hold. You tremble violently in Spencer's grip, your pussy strangling him with all its might. Stars blur your vision, pure pleasure coursing through your veins at lightning speed. You cling to him, nails clawing at his back, heels digging into his ass helplessly.

"Fuck-ing- god." Spencer stutters out as you squeeze him so tight, biting down hard into your neck to muffle the load groan rushing from his chest. He pierces you sloppily through his release, painting your eager walls with thick ropes of sticky white, hips stuttering and feral grunts leaving him with every stab of his spent cock. He gradually comes to a stop as your shared high subsides, pulling his softening length from you, watching as your mixed release flows from your now-sore cunt. He reaches into his pocket for a kerchief he keeps for such occasions, gazing adoringly into your lust-drunk eyes as he cleans you up. He would use his mouth, if there were time for such things.

You gasp as the soft fabric meets your puffy lips, never breaking Spencer's stare while he takes care of you. You've never felt more in love in your life than you do right now, with your legs still spread wide open, while this gorgeous, scrawny, genius wipes your combined spend away. Once you're all clean, he pulls your skirt back down over your legs, and puts his flaccid cock inside his pants, fastening the belt with casual ease. He helps you down from the cabinet, noting your wobbling legs as you stand in your sensible heels.

"All set?" He asks, earning a giggle from you as his hair has become more of a mess than usual.

"Almost." You say softly, smoothing down his unruly locks to look more presentable, and less like you two just went to town on each other over lunch. "Well, we'd better get back out there. The others should be arriving back now." You say, heading for the door first. You hate to leave at all, but the last thing you need is to get caught right now.

"I'll wait the three minutes, and meet you back in there." Three minutes, the amount of time you'd determined was appropriate enough to excuse you both coming back to the bullpen near the same time without raising suspicion. No one bats an eye at three minutes difference. It could be explained away as a coffee refill, a bathroom break, anything really. But returning at the same time? Or leaving this small room at the same time? Out of the question. You'd made the mistake of returning at the same time once, and you didn't hear the end of it from the team for a good three days, despite the assertion that you and Reid had been in separate places at the time.

"Okay. See you then." You nod, giving him a quick kiss. You open the door, checking to see if the coast is clear. Satisfied with your findings, you step out from the closet, closing the door behind you. You're about to turn and walk in the direction of the bullpen, when you end up smack dab in front of Penelope. You have no idea where she came from just now, or how long she's been hiding out. But the sly smirk on her face tells you she knows enough. "Hey, Garcia. How was your lunch?" You ask nervously, failing to play it cool.

"Oh, it was good. I brought some leftover eggplant parmesan from home." Penelope replies, nearly bursting with the knowledge that you and Reid have indeed been hooking up, as she rightly suspected. "How was yours?" She asks coyly, biting her lip as she expects you to spill all the gory details she couldn't hear through the door.

"It was...fine. I packed a lunch as well." You answer, clearing your throat.

"Oh, I'm sure you packed something. What did you have? Some sausage maybe? Or a footlong?" Penelope continues to tease, and at this point, you know the jig is up.

"Oh, alright! Yes, I did! You happy now?" You exclaim, rolling your eyes as your arms cross out of reflex.

"I knew it! I knew it!" Garcia chuckles, doing one of the dorkiest victory dances you've ever seen. The few passersby give her a sideways glance, but she doesn't pay them any mind.

"Okay, okay!" You put your hands on her shoulders to still her, meeting her eyes. "Look, can you just promise me you won't say anything? Spencer and I plan to tell everyone when the time is right, but we like keeping this thing to ourselves for now. Alright?" You implore with her to keep her mouth shut, for your sake, as your friend, and Spencer's.

"Yeah, I can do that." She nods in understanding, pulling you in for a hug. "I'm so happy for you guys!" She squeals, getting excited again.

"Thanks, Garcia. I appreciate that." You smile, returning her embrace.

"So do I." Spencer says from the other side of the door.

"You better treat her right, pretty boy! Or mama is gonna get you!" Penelope warns with all the love in the world.

"I fully intend to." Spencer replies, and you can practically see his lovesick expression from out here, and how his eyes must be looking straight at where he imagines you're standing, meaning every one of those four simple words.

[apocalypse-shuffle]

DAMON SALVATORE (the vampire diaries)

—

“Terms and Conditions” (Damon Salvatore x Fem!Reader)

| Damon helps you get ready for the Founder’s Day “festivities” but can���t help damning himself after a few too many instances of putting his foot in his mouth.

| SFW, established relationship, canon divergence, founders day politics -witch!reader & slight goth!reader

| Mostly practice for writing Damon. Also let’s just assume the Reader’s a college aged adult at the youngest. (Pic source: The Vampire Diaries)

| 🎃!!!HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!🎃

| part one of two

| 2k+ words

You’re watching yourself in the mirror, gown poofing up some and bodice dangling from one hand as you move around to adjust all its bells and whistles. You’ve yet to start the process of putting the dress on, still in your underwear as you prep everything, but you are admiring it.

Honestly, the last thing you want to do is go and put on a face for a whole bunch of people you don’t like and have them actively do the same back to you, but your mother was one of the heads of the planning committee so it was kind of expected.

Then to top it all off it seemed like the news of your failed attempt to overhaul the ‘founding families only’ stipulation that didn’t allow anyone that wasn’t part of the club to vie for the Miss Mystic Falls title (or even her court) had gotten around to everyone.

Naturally Caroline had been the first to inform you of the drama in the most uppity way possible. Why you continued to put up with these teens and their bullshit you had no clue, but you had a protective streak a mile wide and a wannabe supervillain turned fling turned kind-of-friend who was a stage one instigator so really you never stood a chance.

Still the memory of Caroline's haughty voice makes your face twist even worse from where you’re looking back at yourself in the mirror.

You just didn’t think it was a fair rule on top of the whole celebration itself being disgusting, so you’d started kicking up a fuss so your little cousin would have a chance at joining the little makeshift pageant. If they weren’t going to drop the unnecessary aggrandising and the founding family stipulation then you’d damn sure argue your own family’s qualifications, but you digress.

You were only one person you had to protect your peace every once in a while.

For all that though, it’d still been the Lockwoods who owned your family way back when so y’all should one hundred percent count as a founding family. People in this town’s insistence to meat ride the confederacy but clam up when someone even mentions slavery be damned.

The fact that five generations ago your great grandfather changed y’all’s family name when he’d gained his freedom shouldn’t matter.

Especially when the Lockwoods could still coast on their generational wealth, and all of the other founding family members’ names could get them out of an issue five towns over. Not one of them had a leg to stand on claiming your connection to the Mayor and his people had in any way “expired” in the time that’s past.

After they’re emancipation most of your family had moved north during the Great Migration, where everyone stayed until your mother decided she needed a change of scenery while she was pregnant with you and came back to Mystic where some of your grandfather’s descendants' family still lived, but that shouldn’t have been a point they could use against you either. It was moot at best.

You huff.

Honestly fuck everyone though, you were gonna wear this damn dress alongside your cousin and go watch that insolent parade even if Mama Lockwood or anyone else bitched at you for it. And despite how much it would for sure have you cringing. You were a part of a founding family too - hell - your people built Mystic Falls, they deserved to do that stupid dance and stand on that damn nepo baby float too.

Great. Okay, enough of this.

You turn away from the mirror with a small frown and shimmy into your little peasant dress one leg at a time.

“Aww, why the long face?”

“Shit!”

You jump as Damon flashes in, appearing behind you in the mirror, and then starts to laugh. You roll your eyes after catching yourself and go back to fixing up your dress for the “festivities”.

He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of sneaking up on you he so obviously wanted.

“Oh yeah, I’m definitely excited to celebrate a whole bunch of dead white men.”

Damon stops laughing but there’s still a smirk on his face as he invites himself atop your bed with a flourish.

“Hey, I’m one of those ‘dead white men’,” he snipes back. His accusation is said with a light air but you don’t feel like matching his energy today.

You’re getting tired of the town’s theatrics enough as is.

“Yeah, confederate you,” you deadpan.

He pauses, expression twitching, then gives you a nod as he’s picking up one of the stuffed animals laying on your bed. It’s a bat.

“Touché. That comment was in poor taste. Won’t happen again,” he says, relinquishing his words.

“Oh, if fucking only,” you snap, glaring at him.

Briefly your eyes lock in the mirror and his face loses a little more of its usual sharpness. He’s saying sorry. You scoff, but dismiss the line of conversation right afterwards despite how sharp your tongue feels at the moment.

In any case, in a rare show for Damon, he wasn’t the source of your frustration today so there really wasn’t any use in taking your anger out on him.

“Glad we're on the same page,” you say, voice dipping sarcastically. “Now what do you want?”

Damon’s reflection puts a hand to his heart, face contorting like he’s been staked. Many would wish.

“It’s painful you think so little of me. I don’t want anything.” He inclines his head, face evening back out and smirk falling back in place. “Right now.”

“Mmm.” You smile, nice and closed mouthed and fake. “That mean I’m being subjected to you just for fun?”

“Oh yeah,” he says. You catch the way his eyes go lidded when he watches where your under dress is pulled taunt against your backside and turn to flip him off. Those same intrusive eyes roll. “I’m sorry, haven’t I seen you naked before?”

“Hush,” you grunt, twisting the under dress around on your body with a narrow look at the strings you needed to lace up at the back.

The fact that your mother hadn’t arranged for your gown (and all its many components) to come with written instructions was ridiculous because just watching a few people tie this thing up on YouTube had simply not been enough; you were still confused.

It’s not a minute later that Damon seemingly grows tired of watching you struggle and tosses out a tip about how you’re actually supposed to put on the under dress you’re useless twisting around your torso.

You shoot him a look in the mirror, brows furrowed and lips forming into something between a scowl and a pout.

Damon’s brows raise and he lifts your bat up in front of his face like it’s a shield. “I’m not being a dick. Promise.”

“Hn.” After a second you heed his advice, huffing in shock when the first step actually works to get the piece of clothing in position properly. “So you’re just full of surprises today, huh?”

With a short laugh he peeks at you from behind a spined fabric wing, crystalline eyes sparkling with an emotion that’s not just excitement.

The look makes you want to squint at him harder, makes your mouth twist and lips purse.

Following more of his “tips”, and with the direction of the under dress now fixed, you cinch the strings at the back then wrap the them around to tie into a bow below your breasts. You don’t really take your eyes off Damon, however.

If he realizes what you’re staring for he doesn’t comment on it, just brings the plush back to his lap and begins running his palm across its soft oversized head, looking down at it.

Your gown goes on easier after the under dress is on, the ruffled garment far more straightforward to manage when all you have to do is slip it over your head like any other sundress. Minus the sea of fabric you briefly get swept up in, of course.

All of that finally on, you drop your gaze to the bodice waiting for you to put on next with a frown.

Ugh.

Picking it up you loosen the even greater amount of lace, pulling the ivory ribbon like you’re picking out your least favorite vegetable in an otherwise fantastic dish.

There was no doubt in your mind really that you’d look damn fine in this dress but the prep could kiss your ass.

“So…?” you find yourself asking. The type of guy that Damon was, him quiet either meant he was brooding or he was plotting.

And both could lead to bloody bloody outcomes you’d rather avoid right now.

“So,” he repeats, giving you a steady look that you return right away by turning to look him headon. You screw up your face at him, questioning.

The corners of his eyes actually crinkle and he chuckles when he registers your expression, visibly beginning to look more mischievous in real time. “Fine. You asked for it, Pushy. I heard about your little flop with the Miss Mystic pageant from Liz,” he starts, and you’re already rolling your eyes.

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

You throw the bodice in your hands down on the foot of your bed and Damon shifts forward in intrigue.

“Really, why not?” He grins at you and your eyes dart immediately to see his fangs. They’re not out but you still have to shake off that instinctual unease at the prospect that they could be. At any second. “I thought it was very commendable,” he’s saying.

In spite of his words, the tone he’s saying them in gives off the unarguable impression that he’s mocking you. Though you suppose an argument could be made for teasing but you’re not in the mood for giving Damon that much benefit of the doubt currently.

Just him being here without a reason was suspicious, let alone whatever secrets were hiding in his gaze.

“Sure you do,” you scoff.

Not looking at your face he raises his hand, rocking it back and forth in a so-so motion. The way the feel of his gaze travels over your body is nearly a physical thing.

“Mystic Falls is midwestern generational wealth central, you never stood a chance trying to fight that battle, but it’s very sexy that you cursed them out anyway.” His eyes climb back to your face. He points the bat at you. “Which you could’ve done for real since you’re literally magic but for some bizarre reason didn’t. Explain that decision to me, again?”

“We can’t all compel our way into city council, Jackass.”

“Mm.” He scrunches his face sarcastically before shaking his head from side to side. “Except you totally could though.”

Sighing, you turn to give him a bland look. “Yes Damon. I have the ability to do that, but do you know what else I have?”

“What?” he murmurs, eyes sparkling as he gazes over at you.

“A conscience, Damon. I have a damn conscience.” You smile, and Damon huffs dramatically, before you let your face drop once more. “Now, for real, tell me what the hell you want.”

Still watching him you reach over to grab your bodice, taking a fortifying breath before pulling it over your head. You don’t miss the way Damon hides his laugh by turning it into a cough, but you just want this cursed thing past your shoulders at this point so you don’t bother pausing to address him.

He’d be alright.

Damon — demented primadona he was — got more than enough attention from everyone as it was.

“I already told you. I just wanted to see you in person,” he winks at you.

“Right?” you say shortly, before turning to snap your fingers at him and point to the space beside you. “Alright. Then help me into this thing.”

Damon smiles as you shake the bodice at him. Makes a big show of saying goodbye to your bat before rolling off your bed too. Your conversation isn’t over, but you won’t be pissing in his blood over it any time soon either.

He sidles up to you easily, cool hands cinching the back of the bodice together and then lacing it up without a second thought; the subtlest reminders of his age.

He gets the lacing done halfway before pausing. “What do you even need a bodice for anyway?”

“I need it to give the dress shape. There’s a lot of fabric, Damon.”

“I mean sure,” He puts his hands to your waist, molding them to your shape. “That’s the boring reason, but I don’t know. Seems pretty cinched already.”

Eyes lighting up you knock his hands away. “Just tie the damn laces,” you bite out in between the laughter threatening to bubble past your lips.

He chuckles, finally tying the ivory ribbon into a drooping bow without you having to say so.

Afterwards he takes a few moments to run his hands down the skirt of the dress, and it takes you longer than you’d admit to realize that he’s very carefully smoothing out the few wrinkles that have found their way into the fabric. Despite how tight the overarching situation around the ball is making you, his ministrations make you smile.

Once he’s satisfied with the fabric after a minute or two he looks up and catches your eye. When he notices you smiling he ducks his head, but those hands return to your waist without a second to spare regardless.

In the mirror his eyes strip you from head to toe.

“I’m surprised you didn’t go for black.”

“Hmm?”

You slide both of your ornate earrings on and then start fiddling with the backs for them.

“Your dress,” Damon murmurs. “You’re usually much more psycho goth chick than this.”

You chuckle, “Yeah, well my mom begged me to go for a little more color so…” you gesture towards the dress.

“Royal purple.”

“Uh huh, but don’t worry the rest of my wardrobe remains very very black.”

“I wasn’t worried; such a dark purple looks good on you.” You watch his eyes slide intently over your primped form, his cold breath fanning over the dark skin of your shoulder. “Plus a style change can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You watch him roll his eyes in the mirror, his hands trailing from your waist to settle at your hips and squeeze. He leans closer.

“Don’t lie.”

You roll your head back, granting him more access to your throat while pretending to ponder his words, your hand coming up so you can trail your nails along his jawline. His breath hitting the curve of your neck makes you shiver.

He didn’t have to do that for you. Breathe every once in a while to ease the slope of your heavy shoulders.

You lay your hand flat against the side of his jaw and, quick as a blur, he briefly diverts to press a kiss into the pad of your pinky finger.

“Mmm,” you sigh, finger tingling, “…maybe sometimes, when you’re being particularly obnoxious.”

He presses a kiss to your neck, “Like right now?”

“Nah.” You rest your head on his shoulder and watch the way he smirks and easily takes your weight.

Your smile drops some, an earlier thought coming to you, and you focus your gaze at the edge of the mirror.

“Earlier though…”

“Earlier?” Damon says into your skin. He pressed another wetter, less delicate, kiss over your jugular.

The sharp points of his teeth just barely graze over your vain, and you want to fall into it. This is the point in your couplings where you’d start singing for him and Damon liked nothing better, but the earlier memory dampens the mood too much for you to let go like that. Even if you could use the distraction.

“Uh huh,” you click your tongue against your teeth. “I saw you watching Elena earlier.”

The vampire’s eyes snap up to yours in the mirror from where his head is still bent into the crook of your neck.

“Mmm,” another kiss, he squeezes at your hips. “It was a little disconcerting how much she looked like Kathrine in that moment. Dressed like that.”

“And what you told Stefan?”

You hear him open his mouth before his eyes furrow and he shifts back up to his usual height. Both of your hands drop back to your sides.

He looks down, eyes narrowing, “How…did you even hear that?”

You don’t bother talking to him in the mirror. Turning your head sideways with an uptick of your brow, you answer him.

“Oh? You didn’t see me? I hadn’t noticed.”

The smile he throws your way rankles.

“Deflection isn’t pretty on you, Y/n,” he says. Low, rough. So inconsequentially Damon in his delivery.

You let out a big sigh and pull away from him.

If he wanted to actually acknowledge the giant Elena and Kathrine sized rips in your relationship by playing dumb then so be it. Damon wasn’t the only one between you too who craved a little chaos from time to time.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

This isn’t scary or Halloween themed but I’ve run out of time, and there is vampires, so this is what I’m posting. And I do love this fic, I just wasn’t planning on releasing it for Halloween.

We’re just gonna go ahead and imagine that for the sake of this fic Damon did not have that relationship with Caroline that was basically a domestic violence situationship, but that the show just straight up didn’t acknowledge the full ramifications of. So yeah…Damon did attempt to make up for it by giving Caroline his blood after her accident and the tomb situation, but I still think either more needed to be said or less needed to be done because rewatching season one those scenes were too brutal to not be properly addressed when you’re trying to redeem a character. Alright, rant over.

There’ll be more expansion on what happened in this au instead of the Damon/Caroline thing in part two, also.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

[fatuismooches]

fabulam diu oblitus - prelude.

synopsis: The tale of the raven and the sparrow has long been forgotten by most, but some will always remember.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: This is the first part of a multi-chaptered fic that became too long to put into one post. It is a telling of your and Dottore's life as a fairytale, with fragile reader because yes. Thank you to all of my followers and anons who helped me figure out the animals that should be used and especially my lovely moot @kaixserzz!

prelude. first interlude. second interlude. postlude. sequel.

“Once upon a time, there was a baby raven. The raven was an inquisitive and curious hatchling who wanted to explore things that no one else had ever dared of. But because of his ideas, the raven was beaten, shunned, and cursed for the entirety of his childhood. Eventually, as soon as he reached adulthood, he was chased away from his nest, and from that day on, the raven swore to never trust a single soul ever again. But one day, the raven came across a sparrow, who seemed to love to challenge and test him at every possible moment.”

When Zandik was exiled from his hometown, he thought that he was prepared for what was to come, for he had experienced the worst of what humanity had to offer. He knew better than to give any other person the time of day and resolved himself to be cold and closed off. And he didn’t mind being that way, as everyone at the Akademiya was a sore, shallow disappointment. He wondered if anything of substance ever went through those brains of theirs. Ignoring his classmates had garnered him a poor reputation, but it didn’t bother Zandik too much as he was far more interested in his personal research.

That was until he met you.

You had barged into his life out of nowhere, much to his dismay, and invaded his space, now occupying one of the beds in the dorm. You had greatly sabotaged his workspace and time, as now he had to be conscious of what he worked on in your presence. He had to be careful in his own bedroom because of you. It was positively infuriating. But perhaps the most confusing and annoying thing was your attitude towards him. 

You were… kind. You would smile at him. You would inquire into his studies and research with supposedly genuine interest (he had yet to deduce whether you were being real or not.) You would cook for him and continued to do so even though he had yet to thank you for it. You would run errands for him willingly without any protest. You would shut down anyone talking shit about him immediately.

Zandik didn’t like it.

—

��Despite the sparrow’s kind nature, the raven couldn’t bring himself to accept it. It wasn’t unheard of for ravens to prey on sparrows, and at some moments, sometimes the raven wanted nothing more than to swallow up the sparrow so they wouldn’t be in his hair anymore. But there were no opportunities for the raven to do that, so he was forced to endure the sparrow’s presence. However, he came to realize that the sparrow had far more strengths than he initially gave them credit for. Over time, it blossomed into a most unique relationship, one that should have never been possible.”

Zandik wanted you gone. Your behavior didn’t sit quite right with him, for reasons that weren’t hard to guess. But there was nothing he could do. No amount of harsh words or bickering could seem to deter you. Surely you heard of the rumors? Of what he possibly could have done? Of what he could possibly do to you? And yet you insisted on sticking around, despite his vehement denial of your presence.

Although Zandik didn’t like you, that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate your usefulness. And more recently, your intelligence as well. You didn’t think like the other scholars at the Akademiya. You weren’t short-sighted or close-minded, you were always open to new ideas and discussions. You were willing to listen to him even while he was being rude and made zero sense, always having a notepad handy to write down his words. At first, Zandik thought you were mocking him, but a quick investigation into your notes made it clear that you were one hundred percent serious. 

Naturally, you didn’t think exactly like him either for obvious reasons, but it was… refreshing. That made you far more intelligent in his eyes than any other brain-dead scholar. Yet at the same time, your excessive kindness made him think you were painfully stupid. Especially when his cruel insults and ignorance didn’t drive you away, and at some point you had the audacity to start giggling at him whenever he did so. Very strange, stupid, and smart.

He had dubbed you an enigma. Indeed, you were puzzling and difficult to understand. Normally, he enjoyed the challenge when it came to stuff like ancient texts or questions that arrived from his research, however, he wasn’t sure if he liked these qualities in a person. He liked your curiosity but your personality made him feel things he didn’t want to. But much to his dread, even this scholar wasn’t totally immune to your sweet charms, and he was slowly but surely beginning to warm up to you.

—

“Against all odds, the raven and sparrow became one and the same. It seemed as though the two could not be separated.”

You were always sure it was going to be a long and arduous journey, becoming Zandik’s friend, but you were well aware of what you were getting yourself into. Though even you could not have anticipated how much Zandik would like you, despite it always being your goal. It started off gradually, and it took you a bit to realize his small changes toward you. 

Something you realized was that Zandik enjoyed being genuinely listened to. Perhaps because no one had lent him an ear, or even then never took what he said seriously. Perhaps he was mocked and shut down. So you listened. And he told you more, and more, and more every time. You could be doing your own thing, and Zandik would drag you away from it, under the premise that his work was far more important. The audacity! But you didn’t really mind, except the times he woke you up in the middle of the night to check over his conclusions. 

Even still, it was hard not to find his bursts of excitement and passion cute. It was hard not to find how he inhaled your cooking cute. It was hard not to find his little grunts of approval at your work or the reluctant compliment of “Good, I guess” cute. And oh, and don’t get you started on the way he blushed when you got a little too close, and then promptly told you to fuck off. Zandik was so cute. Unhinged. Not a good or nice person. Mean. But cute. 

Eventually came a time when Zandik stopped trying to get rid of you. He stopped locking you out of the dorm and he stopped throwing insults at you for merely existing with him. Instead came times when you two would “hang out” as you would put it. You’d teach him how to cook but uncharacteristically gave up after one lesson because he was truly that bad. You would do group projects together and then snicker to one another about how the other groups’ work paled in comparison. You two would go out together, initially for the purpose of research, but end up spending some time relaxing in the soft plush of the forest together. No words were said, but perhaps fingers and legs accidentally brushed each other every now and then.

These were good times, Zandik admitted to himself.

—

“Despite their blatant differences, the raven and sparrow seemed to fit together perfectly, wings and beaks tucked into each other effortlessly. Both had accepted each other for who they were, something no one else had done for either of them. Many years passed, and the two developed feelings for each other. However, neither of them was sure how to express their love.”

The good times lasted far, far longer than Zandik could have ever dreamed of. You had remained a constant in his life for many years. He could have never imagined you’d stick around nor would he tolerate your presence for so long. It was now that he realized that there would always be a vast amount of possibilities in this world, ones that he would never believe existed, but they certainly did. You were an example of that.

Another thing he realized was how differently his body and mind could react around you.

Zandik realized, that sometimes his palms could get hot around you. Not sweaty, but hot and tingly. It was a strange sensation. He realized, that when your skin came into contact with his, instead of feeling like he had just been scalded, he simply felt… warmth. Not the overbearing or underwhelming kind. It was just warm. The worst part was, he realized that on very few and rare occasions, his heart would speed up a bit and get stuck in his throat. It was horrible. Zandik despised it.

And his mind, his mind would unconsciously favor you. He would wonder, what time were you coming home? Did anyone bother you? When you didn’t understand something, his mind automatically went to the idea of explaining again (begrudgingly?) instead of leaving you hanging. He hated group projects even more now when they weren’t with you because his mind instinctively knew that other people simply could not hope to compare to you in the slightest. His mind grew in various ways over the years, but this particular aspect… he was confused. This part wasn’t necessarily a hindrance, but it was odd and he couldn’t control it. Zandik preferred to be in control, especially of his own body, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t understand. 

You, on the other hand, completely understood your own feelings as well as Zandik’s. There was no doubt about it. You were in love with Zandik. Zandik was in love with you. This was the irrefutable truth. You couldn’t determine exactly at what point he began to like you romantically, but you knew you had liked him for years. You were just glad the pining was mutual now because the feelings were starting to weigh heavy on your heart. But now, you found yourself in a plight.

How to finally confess to Zandik.

You really had no idea how to do it. If it was any normal person, you’d probably have an easier time. But no, this was Zandik, which made everything complicated. You had gone through multiple different scenarios in your head, and none of them seemed right. You thought about it, in the morning, during class, while eating, on expeditions, before bed. Yes, the procedure of making Zandik your boyfriend was occupying your mind far more than it should be, embarrassingly enough.

Zandik noticed your continuous contemplative state of mind as well. He wasn’t much of a fan. No, not at all. Did you realize how much of a nuisance it was to be explaining or giving instructions to you and then find out you’re staring into space (which coincidentally happens to be his face) instead? And then he has to snap at you to pay attention and instead, you just give him a silly smile? It was nonsensical. At some point, Zandik had decided this had gone on far too long and demanded you tell him what had occupied your mind so much that it turned you into an airhead. Unfortunately, it was mostly unsuccessful as you two only had a little back-and-forth, with you defending that you were just tired lately and Zandik calling you out on that bullshit. But he let it go.

Was he worried? No, of course not. It was just that having his assistant’s mind not focused on him was entirely bothersome.

… Alright perhaps he was a little worried. Just a little. He didn’t like it when you were troubled.

—

“But thankfully, the sparrow found a moment to show their true feelings. Was it the perfect moment? No, perhaps not. But it became one. And amazingly enough, the odd duo had become an odd couple.”

It was the most average of nights. Really, incredibly average. The two of you were stuck on the floor doing a group project for the past few nights. It was a lot of work, meant for a group of people, but of course, you and Zandik refused to add anyone else to the group, so now you two had been grinding the work together for a while. But neither of you minded. It really was much easier with the two of you anyway.

Right now, Zandik was rambling on about what to add and what to do next and the comparisons and contrasting of the data and a variety of other things. Normal Zandik things, as he pointed and waved his hands to make his point. But all of his words entered one ear and came out the next for you. You were far too busy admiring his beauty.

Zandik didn’t notice your adoring stare, no, of course, he was too caught up in his rambling, but that was okay. You didn’t know what came over you, but an impulsive thought to just make him see came over you. To taste him. To let him taste you. To let him realize the depth of your feelings. To let him realize the extent of his own feelings too.

And so for the first time ever, you cupped Zandik’s cheek, to which his words came to an abrupt stop. He practically swiveled his head around to give you one of those signature looks of his, and he had your hand that was on his cheek in a tight grip around your wrist, nails digging into your skin as an automatic response to such blatant physical touch. It hurt, but that was when you took the opportunity.

After all, it was hard to focus on the pain when his lips were on yours. 

You were kissing Zandik, who was immediately practically screaming into your lips, along the muffled lines of “whadahelareyodoigmph?” And you would have chuckled at his reaction, were it not for how entranced you were by kissing him. It seemed, that after the initial shock, Zandik piped down and also began to process what was happening. He didn’t fight back. He didn’t move away. His grip on your wrist loosened, and you took the chance to intertwine your fingers with his instead before pulling away in satisfaction. Zandik’s face was red and his lip quivered in a half-hearted scowl, probably cursing both you and himself because of the fact he enjoyed a mere kiss that much. But he wasn’t the only one affected. Your own heart was hammering out of your chest as you tried to stop yourself from smiling too widely.

“You know, I’ve…” you paused, trying to control your heartbeat, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” So this was what was occupying that idiot mind of yours, Zandik thinks. How stupid.

Zandik's eyes flickered to yours, bearing a half-hearted glare, and they only said one thing: oh, he hated how easily you made him feel disgustingly weak, and how his fingers tremble in anticipation when you’re near, and how his heart beats far too much for what’s to come next, but oh, he demands that you do it again right now before he goes mad. So you did. You kissed Zandik again, and this time he kissed back.

His pointy teeth grazed your lip as he awkwardly kissed back, clearly unsure of what he was doing. But that was okay. You were probably his first kiss, after all, the idea of doing such a thing with anyone was revolting to him. Before he fell in love with you, of course. Well, this was your first kiss too, but you had read enough books to know what you were doing. You caressed his hair, gently rubbed his arms, and perhaps pushed him down on the bed a bit. It was very nice, to have years of feelings condensed into these kisses.

Neither of you said anything for the rest of the night after the kissing session, the group project now long forgotten. Except when you squeaked in pain since he had the gall to bite down on your lip, then swipe your bloody lip with his tongue deviously. You should have known that Zandik being inexperienced in something only lasts for a short time.

When you two finally went to sleep, Zandik allowed it when you climbed into his bed and delicately placed a hand on his chest, cuddling into him.

—

“The sparrow and raven’s romantic partnership began just like that. Nothing else needed to be said. In all honesty, nothing had changed much between the two who had been friends for years, except for the addition of an overwhelming amount of affection from the sparrow towards the raven.”

You and Zandik were dating now. It was truly a dream come true. Truly a dreamlike moment to randomly kiss his cheek and then watch him become a mixture of flustered and angry at you for doing such things. Truly a dreamlike moment to be able to squeeze his hand under the table when people were talking about him. Truly a dreamlike moment to be able to hold him and caress him all over, to watch his face as he received the love he never received as a child. And truly a… laughable moment as he familiarized himself with holding you, which took much work and effort. 

It was fine though. You were positive your relationship would endure throughout any kind of struggle.

—

“Though, like any kind of relationship, the two sometimes encountered a few bumps and turns that would perhaps set them back. But, these problems never lasted too long because… the sparrow and the raven had unusual ways of solving their problems sometimes.”

Zandik wasn’t very strong. Smart, a definite yes, but his physical abilities weren’t anything special, which was why you took it upon yourself to fight whenever the need arose. So when he came back to the dorms one day with hastily wrapped bandages and cuts and bruises, naturally you were extremely worried.

“Who did this?” He didn’t respond to you as he made his way to the bathroom and you quickly followed after. Zandik was digging through the cabinet for more medical supplies, the previous bandages now lying on the floor.

“Zandik,” you murmured. You knew that people didn’t like him, but you didn’t think it would go to such a physical extent. Most people had the common sense to leave him alone or merely talk about him instead. But now that you thought about it, you had an idea of who it could be. Ugh, those fools from the recent expedition. When Zandik exposed their faulty and false research in front of everyone with ease, they seemed to grow some kind of grudge against him. 

“Zandik, let me see.”

“There’s no need.” You watched as he roughly treated the wounds, his emotions clearly showing in his actions.

“Zandik, I can-”

“I said no,” your lover harshly snapped, gritting his teeth. He was trying to stop himself from saying anything else because he could say things he didn’t mean when he was in this kind of mood.

“Okay then,” you acquiesced and let him be. As much as you wanted to comfort him, it wasn’t a good time now. You needed to give him some space first. But at least when you left the dorm, you had a goal in mind.

You didn’t return until it was pitch black outside, and similarly, all the lights in the dorm’s building were off, so you wandered through the darkness until you reached your room. Ah, the door was unlocked too. Zandik must have left it open for you. You just hoped you didn’t get any blood on the doorknob.

The room was dark. Zandik probably went to sleep early. You went straight to the bathroom to clean up. After all, your hands and clothes were all icky with the blood of your classmates. Flipping on the light and looking at yourself in the mirror, you examined yourself. Good thing you weren’t wearing a nice outfit. And your face, not a single scratch of course. They couldn’t lay a hand on you and they wouldn’t be laying a hand on Zandik ever again.

“Where were you?” The sudden voice nearly made you jump. Zandik was at the doorway. So he was awake.

“Oh, Zandik. Hello. I was simply out with my friends, you know?” You gave him a reassuring smile. Obviously, the scholar knew that was a complete lie. He knew what you had done, he just had trouble understanding why. And how too.

Zandik came up to you and grabbed your hands, surprising you. His watchful eyes checked them thoroughly, the blood not bothering him in the slightest. You were truly unharmed. If you weren’t, he would have done something a lot worse than what you did.

“What, are you worried?” You teased. He seemed to be feeling better. Zandik only huffed in response.

“Why would you do that? Now the Akademiya is going to be behind your back.” Classic Zandik, using negativity to mask his appreciation.

“No, they won’t. Our little friends got beaten up by some Eremites instead. They told me so themselves,” you giggled almost a little crazily at his expression. “You’re not the only one with tricks up your sleeve, Zandik.”

“Even so, it was,” he paused for a quick second to think, “a fruitless waste of time. You could have been helping me instead.” Again, you couldn’t help but laugh at his words. It would really kill him to be truthful for once, huh?

“Look,” you placed both your bloody hands over his own. “You are my boyfriend, are you not?” You cocked your head to the side, waiting for a response to which he nodded. “Precisely. So by that logic, I am yours, and you are mine. And naturally, I like to take care of things that are mine. Especially if that happens to be my brilliant blue-haired scholar,” you smiled. Perhaps you seemed a touch bit possessive. But this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, no, you two belonged to each other after all. Zandik didn’t respond but he unconsciously gripped your hands a little bit tighter.

“Just make sure no one sees you doing the laundry,” he huffed.

“Yes, love~,” you pressed a kiss on his cheek to which he made another grumble but made no effort to stop you. After you two got cleaned up, a restful and peaceful sleep came naturally.

—

“Underneath the moon and stars, the two shared years' worth of memories, touches, and love. Though even the moon couldn’t quite understand this seemingly impossible couple, it still bore witness to their endeavors every night without fail. But one day, tragedy struck. The sparrow fell sick to a terrible illness.”

Your relationship with Zandik had become one of the highlights of your life. Perhaps it seemed like you were too crazed for the man, but what was love if you two weren’t a bit crazy for each other? Your life was truly a joy with this grouchy and easily irritable scholar who went a wee bit soft at affection. Well, that was if you excluded the few ailments you had come down with recently.

It started small at first. 

Seemingly minor things affected you. Perhaps a painful throb in your head that wouldn’t seem to go away, but you passed it off as the stresses of exams and school. Aches and pains when you moved your body, but maybe it was just from sleeping in awkward positions because you kept passing out in the middle of the night after pulling yet another all-nighter with Zandik. Sometimes you felt unusually cold, or perhaps hotter than normal. But you thought it was nothing too big, maybe something was going around in the Akademiya.

That’s what Zandik thought too… at first. You were a strong person, no stranger to fighting whether it was people or Ruin Drakes. You would bounce back. In fact, in the beginning, he thought you were overdramatizing your pain. Groaning and whining and clinging to him in an attempt to convince him to stay in the dorms today instead of going out on this expedition. Of course, he shook you off and rolled his eyes, telling you to hurry up. He didn’t miss the tiny sigh you let out, and the slight twinge in his chest but that was quickly washed over by the thought that you were simply milking your unwell condition in an effort to gain more of his attention. 

He didn’t miss how you were much quieter than usual, leaving his voice to fill the silence as you two walked. He didn’t miss your slow and tired steps, to which you had to ask for him to slow down which he begrudgingly did. And he certainly did not miss when you tripped and nearly fell were it not for him catching you in time.

Zandik was about to scold you for your carelessness but the words died on his tongue at your expression. Dulled eyes and pants, your chest heaving up and down due to the strain. You swallowed before your eyes sparked back to life again, seemingly recovering from that little fall. 

“Sorry,” you smiled at him with a hint of nervousness. “Guess I didn’t get enough sleep.” Yeah, you went to sleep a bit late last night, but it wasn’t a three AM kind of night. It was rather earlier than usual, to be honest. So you really weren’t sure why your body was acting like this. Zandik looked at you, silent and unimpressed, but you think he bought it. After that, you tried to return to your normal chirpy self despite the throbbing of your head. You were saved by the fact that this expedition was only examining plants and fauna for a class instead of the normal expeditions you and Zandik carry out.

It did not get better from then. Zandik surely noticed from the way his usual rude comments gradually turned into silence and quiet help at your genuine condition. He wasn’t stupid. He could tell that you were being real. But it all boiled over one afternoon.

You wanted to ignore your deteriorating state badly. You wanted to pretend that it didn’t exist. If you admitted it to yourself, then everything would be over. For what good were you when you were stuck in bed all day? Not just to yourself, but to Zandik as well? You knew he would never leave you, wouldn’t ever hate you but… still, it bothered and worried you more than you liked to admit. So whenever it was possible, you did some tasks for your lover.

Today’s errand was simple. You’d done it multiple times before. You just had to retrieve some parts Zandik ordered (legally, this time) and bring them back to the dorm. And you had done just that… only with a minor hiccup. Yes, it was only a small setback, being pushed and shoved by some of your classmates who didn’t like you or Zandik. Yes, it was just an insignificant occurrence, your body too weak to fight back and put them in their place like you normally did. And since it was so trivial, you didn’t want Zandik to know. So when you got back to the dorm, you put on your smiling face and acted oblivious, handing your boyfriend the purchase and then scurrying to the bathroom. 

Not to mention, there were some scuffs and marks on your uniform. They looked to be only minor, but Zandik still noticed them immediately. Your uniform was crisp and pristine before you left, after all. And whenever you got into an altercation, you’d tell him every time. This time, however, seemed different. Now that you looked back, you were pretty damn obvious, but your knees were hurting really bad.

The scholar waited a few moments before waiting outside the bathroom door, listening in. What he heard were whines and grunts of pains, and then something falling supposedly from the cabinet, and then a string of curses from you. You were definitely hurt.

“[Name].” His tone was flat and serious, and immediately all noise from the bathroom became nonexistent.

“…Yes?” That tone of voice. You were guilty of something.

“I’m coming in,” he didn’t bother giving you a grace period despite your sputters of protest. Zandik found you near the sink, only in your undergarments, Akademiya uniform discarded to the hamper, now stained with small patches of blood. Knees and elbows scraped and bloody. Instinctively you moved your heads to cover your elbows at least, in an attempt to minimize the severity of the situation… which didn’t really work.

“Oh… hey Zandik!” You smiled nervously. “See this,” you motioned to your injuries, “I just tripped and fell again. No big deal!” You had a good and believable excuse. It was just that your execution of it was really bad and your boyfriend could see through you easily. But he didn’t need you to tell the truth, he already had a hunch as to what happened. Plus, if you truly had fell, the gashes wouldn’t have been so deep.

“...” Zandik seemed expressionless as he went behind you and grabbed the bandages and the necessary supplies to disinfect it, before grabbing your hand and pulling you to the bed. You opened your mouth to argue but closed it again, probably realizing there was no getting out of this. It was eerily quiet as Zandik uncharacteristically treated your wounds with more care than usual. Most of the time, he was rough with it as he scolded you for being dumb, rolling his eyes as you chastised him for being so mean. This time, however, most of the sting was from the liquid cleaning the wound. He finally wrapped the bandage neatly around your knees and elbows, before he broke the silence.

“You’re not leaving the dorm tomorrow.” You snapped your head up at this statement.

“Excuse me? Yes, I-”

“No, you’re not. You’re staying in bed.”

“You can’t decide that for me. I can go where I-”

“Not when you’re like this,” he bluntly stated. It was harsh, but it was the truth, and you knew it. But hearing it like that hurt, even though you knew this was Zandik’s way of looking out for you.

The room was quiet again since you couldn’t argue any further.

And so, you had decided to take a break from going to classes for a while. Well, it was more like Zandik had decided that for you, his words being that it would be a great inconvenience for both of you if you continued to act like this, and so he confined you to bed rest and refused to let you leave. Sure, his expeditions would have to be delayed, he lamented, but it would be a waste of time to go when you weren’t in tip-top shape. So stop being an idiot and fighting him and rest already. You know, Zandik’s typical way of being worried. He even took the time to teach you everything, and of course, keep you updated on how shitty the professors were.

So now, your days consisted of resting in the dorm, sometimes doing homework that Zandik brought home, or your own hobbies. But you did feel bad. You didn’t like sitting around and doing nothing all day long when Zandik had to be by himself now. If you were going to be stuck in the dorm all day, the least you could do is tidy up a bit. And of course, cook for the two of you.

Cooking and sometimes even baking were things you liked, but it became one of your favorite things because of Zandik. It sounded strange, but you liked seeing him well-fed and not living off of his inedible cooking. Today you would make… shawarma wraps. Yes, you were in the mood for that today. And so you got to work preparing and cutting the ingredients. The only problem was… your hands were far more shaky than you wanted them to be. The knife quivered in your hands and now the vegetables were being cut weirdly.

Indeed, it had been harder to steady your hands nowadays, so you tried to go for easier food to prepare. But you really wanted to eat some shawarma wraps today,  so you continued on. If you just focus your hand, then surely the knife would just-

…And now, there was blood spurting onto the countertop and dripping on the floor. Just great. It was like nothing would go your way ever again once you came down with this mysterious illness. You blinked back tears the whole time you clumsily wrapped the cut and cleaned the kitchen. 

It was a horrible feeling really, to suddenly be unable to do things that were once so easy. To have things you once loved doing feel like a daunting chore now. No matter how hard you tried to avoid thinking about your illness, it felt like it was consuming your life now. You didn’t want it to start defining you… but it hurt. So badly, that you didn’t even bother putting up your usual cheerful front that evening. Zandik took one look at your hand and could deduce what happened. He would have scolded you, were it not for your terribly gloomy expression.

Once again, in pure silence, he redressed your wound (which was poorly wrapped by your unsteady hands.) You didn’t want to speak, nor did you want Zandik to speak. You didn’t want any pity or reprimanding right now. You quietly rested your head on his shoulder, requesting nothing more.

—

“From then on, the little sparrow’s condition only went on a downward spiral. It seemed like no amount of rest and medication could hope to help them recover. Slowly, it seemed like they were becoming a shell of their former self… quiet, tired, and closed off. The raven could only watch as his beloved grew farther… and farther… and more distant from him in more ways than one. In fact, it would be more fitting to call the sparrow a butterfly now. Butterflies are beautiful, but transient. They are truly a joy to admire, but if one gets attached, they will only end up in a world of pain as the butterfly leaves them far too soon.”

You had long given up on classes and work. The assignments Zandik brought home were piled up in a corner. Just looking at them made you feel exhausted. You tried to do some every now and then, but how could you focus on school when you felt like you were physically and mentally deteriorating with every passing day? Though, many had no sympathy for your current predicament which was why you found yourself in your current predicament.

Kicked out of the Akademiya. How embarrassing. Yes, you were not joking. They had a letter of expulsion delivered right to your door for being absent and missing too many assignments, and an order to pack all your belongings and leave within a week. You were not very surprised and kind of accepted it. Zandik on the other hand, had a few choice words for the messenger, before slamming the door with a bang. He was much more wildly upset about this than you were, a spew of curses directed towards a multitude of people in the Akademiya came flying out his mouth. He wouldn’t accept this, he said. But both you and him knew there was nothing to be done, especially since they would never listen to an outcast such as himself. So in due time, you found yourself admitted to Sumeru’s local hospital. Zandik’s expression was grim, which you tried to change.

“I know you’re going to miss cuddling up to me at night, dearest,” you teased in an effort to lighten up the mood. “Don’t miss me too much!” Zandik, however, did not have the slightest reaction, which made your smile dim.

“Hey,” your tone dropped a bit. “Don’t look so glum. Otherwise, you’re really going to make me think you can’t live without me.” This particular tease made his eye twitch.

Zandik scoffed, “You overestimate yourself. I am not so helpless that I would need you to be near me at all times. Furthermore, I suggest you be ready for when you come back. We have a lot of work to catch up on.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that. Oh, how perfect it was, despite all the changes in your life, Zandik never changes, does he? With his harsh words veiled with some kindness underneath, a silent promise to you that he will make you better and you will be healthy again in no time.

“Of course, of course, love. I promise I’ll be ready to be worked to the bone by you after all of this,” you smiled softly. Zandik rolled his eyes, but at that moment, everything felt like it was going to be okay.

And it… kind of was, for a while. If you ignore the whole context of the situation. You were surprised to see Zandik make time for you every day to visit you in your dreary hospital room, but he did. He would bring you things sometimes, books or puzzles so that your brain wouldn’t get bored. The hospital staff were initially on guard at his presence every day, for his reputation had spread even beyond the Akademiya, but they got used to him after many repeated visits. 

Zandik, on the other hand, didn’t realize how much different you made his life until you were actually gone. He told himself that he could deal with it, that he had done it long before he ever met you, so he would be fine.

He wasn’t.

No longer could he bask in you and everything that came with you. Your brains, your intelligence, your strength, your efficiency, your productivity, your voice, your smile, your laughs, your horrible jokes, your touch, your cuddles, your body - you, you, you. No longer could he call for you and you would be there in an instant, arms swung around his shoulders. No longer could he fall victim to being the taste tester for your new recipes. No longer could he consume your very being… it was driving him mad. He despised how you weren’t at your rightful place at his side.

And he despised how dull your eyes had gotten. For the first few weeks, it was “normal” at least. You’d still be excited to see him. Listen to him. Converse with him. Beg him to stop trying to cook again and just buy takeout. “Normal” things. But now, it was very different. You never outright ignored his presence but, you were far more distant. Barely speaking full sentences, save for the “mhm” and “uh huh” that sounded more forced than anything. Not even mustering the energy to reach out to him or brush your fingers against his You had asked for your bed to be placed right next to a window, and every time he visited, you were in the same position. Staring out the window longingly, gazing down at the city.

And there was nothing Zandik could do. There were no words he could say, no amount of comfort he could provide that would somehow make things better. No, the only thing he could do was solve the issue itself. He was best at that anyway, the scholar and researcher in him paying off. The Akademiya’s libraries were overtaken by him, day and night. No medical text went unread by him. He looked for answers during class lectures. During meals, during the early hours of the morning, and depths of the night. He looked and looked and looked without rest.

But one day, Zandik realized that perhaps he hadn’t taken things seriously enough.

He arrived at your hospital room like any other day, only to see a few nurses crowded around you, fussing and worrying to each other until they saw him, visibly stiffening. It was then his eyes flicked down to your body, which looked… oddly lifeless and unmoving. His brain figured out what this meant before his heart did. One already knew what happened while the other didn’t want to accept it.

“Err…” The nurse fiddled with her clipboard, not wanting to be the bearer of bad news, especially to one such as Zandik, “As of today, [Name] has fallen into a coma…” He couldn’t pay attention to the rest of her words. 

The whole world went silent to him at that moment. Everything around him did, as he could only focus on your figure.

—

“With the sparrow now asleep with no signs of waking up, the raven uncharacteristically found himself at a loss.”

Zandik decided it was time to occupy himself with other activities. Like the hospital in the desert he worked at, treating, or rather experimenting on the patients there. It was for a number of reasons. Staying in the empty dorm room without you bothering him every couple of minutes was beginning to drive him more than just mad. Going to the hospital to be greeted by your sleeping body provided nothing but a flurry of negative emotions in him. To curve his growing curiosity and thirst for knowledge. And although Eleazar wasn’t what you were afflicted with, perhaps studying it could provide some insight. 

It was entirely morbid, cruel, and unethical, whatever word one wanted to say would probably fit the bill. Using corpses as material for “medicine”, driving his last remaining patient mad. Yet there was no part of him that felt guilty. That felt bothered. In the end, all he could think about was how satisfying the results of this experiment were. He cured Eleazar. Perhaps he could cure your illness too. Zandik was, in fact, excited.

Zandik continued to visit you every single day to check on you. It wasn’t like the staff cared much at this point. It was then he started keeping dedicated notes on your condition. He wasn’t much of a doctor nor was he experienced in the medical field, but the Akademiya’s library had proven to be more useful than he thought.

He took your vitals. Your heart rate. Temperature. Everything. Everyday. This time he injected you with what he hoped would cure and wake you up. Nothing. There was zero reaction internally and externally. It was a failure. It was frustrating.

Zandik, as a child, was used to being rejected. He never got what he wanted. Which was why as an adult, he made sure he acquired everything he wanted. Regardless of what, why, or how, nothing would stop him. And now that he was hitting that same block again, no matter how hard he tried, he was starting to seriously get irritated. Not at you, but at himself. This happened before, but this time there was also the fact he didn’t have your inquisitive mind or soothing presence to make him feel better.

Not to mention there was also Sohreh. Initially, he managed to tolerate her thanks to your coaching, but now that he had so many things to deal it, he found it harder and harder to deal with the Amurta. She was also the only one who had the decency to send condolences for your current situation, though he brushed her off before she could even get the words out. Yet by some annoying twist of fate, the girl kept popping up randomly around him, whether that was expeditions or group projects together.

When Zandik found his hands around her neck, he wasn’t surprised at himself. He didn’t feel anything at all, actually. On the same day, he went to visit your sleeping body and traced your veins with the same hands that killed your classmate. He wondered if you would feel any different to him if you knew what he’d done. If you would perhaps leave him. From how deeply you were sleeping, it seemed like he would never receive that answer though.

The days that followed were nothing noteworthy unless Zandik’s further spiral into madness and experimentation for both your sake and his innate desire were to be described in-depthly. Soon enough, he was banished from the Akademiya and into the desert. Despite his dislike for that place, it was a hindrance as he still needed somewhere to conduct research… and your body was still in a Sumerian hospital. But no matter, he’d make do.

It was then he met a gray-haired Khaenri’ahn man who offered him something that was too good to pass up and bestowed a name upon him.

Doctor? He was obviously no doctor. At least not one that helps people. Quite the opposite. If you were here, surely you would be laughing and cackling along with him at the irony of that name. But Zandik liked the ring of it.

And so Il Dottore was born. He just wished you were here to see it.

—

“Many, many centuries went by, and the raven progressed with his research in all areas and became akin to a God himself. However, his sparrow remained in a deep sleep and he could only watch as he failed to help his slumbering beloved.”

Dottore was now a man of many feats. To list them all would take a large amount of time, and the only person who would be willing to sit and listen was you. And you kind of did in a way, because for centuries, your sleeping body would be the first one to know about anything. Dottore would tell you of his accomplishments, his failures and successes, his useless co-workers, and how no one could ever compare to the assistant you were to him. And how despite the fact there was no doubt that his research and progress were entirely fulfilling, there was still a distinct emptiness and boredom in his life that only a certain someone could satisfy.

He wasn’t the only one who felt that way. The same conversation was exchanged between him and a segment every day:

“Are there any updates on [Name]’s condition?”

“No, nothing to report, Prime.”

The segments too would bemoan about the situation and wonder when you would wake up. Yet there was nothing that could be done. Countless resources and time had been exhausted on you, yet he had nothing to show for it. The only solution was to wait for you to open your eyes on your own, however long that may take. Dottore would undoubtedly wait though, what was a few more centuries, after all?

—

“But one day, a miracle happened. The bird woke up from their eternal rest, utterly confused and lost.”

Nahida rubbed her eyes and stretched out her body. To think that was only the beginning part of the fairytale! It was truly a long tale, yes, the one of Zandik and [Name]. Yet every part of it was intriguing and left her on the edge of her seat. And what better storytelling was it than to leave it on a cliffhanger?

[milkiie]

𝐿𝑂𝐴 𝑇𝐼𝑃𝑆 𝐹𝑂𝑅 𝐵𝐸𝐺𝐼𝑁𝑁𝐸𝑅𝑆 (𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒)

from someone who's been manifesting with ease since they were 12

─── ִֶָ ๑˙ 🦩 ̟ !! number 1 : start small

if you have not yet manifested anything, start small. yes, you are already capable of manifesting big, life changing things. but a crucial part of manifesting is belief, and, even if you fully consciously believe you can, your subconscious might not; after all, youve been taught something else your whole entire life. so, start small. ease your subconscious into this new concept of how the world works.

when i first started manifesting, i did it this way. first thing i manifested was lip gloss. then i just upped the ante with each manifestation

─── ִֶָ ๑˙ 🦩 ̟ !! number 2 : use methods

use the freaking methods. yes, you can manifest without them. yes, the power is in you. but people invent methods for a reason. they are not limiting you, they are not bs, they are not "making things more complicated"

like a wizard's wand, a manifestor's method channels that power and points it where you want it. a method is your conscious mind's way of calibrating your subconscious mind to focus on the things you want it to focus on. they also give your subconscious mind a relief from confusion. your subconscious has it engrained that work must take place in order to receive. using a method gives your subconscious what it needs - it tells it "see? we did work. we can receive now"

─── ִֶָ ๑˙ 🦩 ̟ !! number 3 : work on your self concept

self concept really is the end all, be all. seriously. everything is so much easier with a good self concept. having a good self-concept, and knowing you are worthy will absolutely change the game, i promise you

─── ִֶָ ๑˙ 🦩 ̟ !! number 4 : there is no pushback

the 3d is not resistant. it doesn't have a mind or a will. don't think of it as an enemy, think of it as a canvas that you can fill with anything you like

─── ִֶָ ๑˙ 🦩 ̟ !! number 5 : oversimplify

oversimplification makes it harder. i'm not kidding about this. the way this community has oversimplified loa is actually to our detriment. let it require things. please just let it require things. it will make it so much easier and so much faster for you if you just let it take its course instead of stripping it to the barest of bones

─── ִֶָ ๑˙ 🦩 ̟ !! number 6 : be patient

in the same vein, let it take time. just let it flow in. don't rush it, don't expect it to be instant in your perceived reality. the more you push it, the longer it will take, because you're second guessing yourself and your manifestation when you stress about it or try to hurry it up. trying to make it instant in your 3d will make you waver because 3d, by its nature, needs time to load

─── ִֶָ ๑˙ 🦩 ̟ !! number 7 : stop overconsuming

stop overconsuming. stop reading posts all day, you are filling your mind with convoluted, confusing information mostly made up of jargon and buzz words. it's not your subconscious' fault that you struggle to apply the law after reading disorienting paragraphs on it that contained no substance. it's not yours in general. its natural to become unsure when there is seemingly so much. relax, step back, cleanse your mind. you already know what you need to know. go, apply it, live your life, be free

─── ִֶָ ๑˙ 🦩 ̟ !! number 8 : make your own rules

make your own rules. make a mind map, write a blurb about what you know about manifestation, write them out in bullet points, whatever. keep those rules, return to them when you feel the need. when you feel you have overconsumed, or are becoming uncertain, or even as a part of your daily manifesting routine if thats your thing, having your rules just written down somewhere is honestly an incredible affirming and grounding tool

─── ִֶָ ๑˙ 🦩 ̟ !! number 9 : stop comparing yourself

don't compare yourself to anyone. not your moots, not any influencer, not irl people you know who are doing loa. loa is a part of spirituality. it is a personal journey to reclaim your power. and it works different for everyone. keep your eyes on your plate

─── ִֶָ ๑˙ 🦩 ̟ !! number 10 : follow your own lead

follow your happiness. just do it. do not worry about anything, do not question yourself, just do what makes you feel good. understand that from the moment you decide what you want to manifest, the universe begins to shift itself to accommodate your wish, and you start to align with receiving it. your intuition and your heart are leading you down the right path. so just do what will make you happiest in a given moment. you do not have to ignore the 3d, you do not have to robotically affirm, you do not have to do anything but that which you feel drawn to do.

if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading this long thing. i love you, have a candy 🍬

[xylophonerabbit]

PICREW CHAINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

@thecrazyalchemist @drakonyx121 @lesbiansgethammers @quab00 @queer-aiir

Idk who else in my moots might like this so anyone who wants should :3

[jellyfishrui]

introduction time!!!!! ← finally made....

— hai hai !! sorry for the long wait for my introduction, but here it is!!

– this blog was made the eleventh of september , 2024 .. !!

minimal information about me :3

— you all may call me whatever feels right for you :3 !! i really don't mind :> ( i actually quite like what you all come up with :3 )

i use any pronouns ! but i mostly lean towards he / they pronouns !! :3

my favorite colors are : blue , orange , red , and purple !!

i speak both english and spanish ! ( considering asl.. )

— my birthday is on the 24th of february !

i don't really consume any sweets or drink any soda..

my interests !! :3

— project sekai :33

– ALNST ( alien stage :DD )

– tgswiiwnagaa !!

– orv ( haven't finished reading.. might consider continuing.. )

— sk8 the infinity :D

– ons ( owari no seraph :3 )

— omori :o

— nso ( i need to finish watching the full gameplay )

– litc ( uuuurgh... [ sorry ] )

– given

— cherry crush ( not as much as before though.. )

– link click ( im still waiting......, )

— school bus graveyard :3

– everything but your life

– class of 09

— ddlc :33

i may add more if i forget anything , or if i get into any new ones !!

my music interests :3

a run down of who i listen to would be jullie , msi , babymetal , mitski , radiohead , weezer , goreshit , antihoney , deftones , sewerslvt , c!nah , toby fox , exist†trace , alex g ..

— and a whole lot more :3

for my dni .. :

pretty simple , no proshippers , incest shippers , or anything in that category . don't be weird please :P

— also , i would not like anyone flirting with me , i have a very pretty boyfriend ( @nenerobopistol ) and wouldn't want anyone doing so ..

— thats all for my dni :3

extra stuff :3

as for my ask box , feel free to say anything you'd like ! i love seeing them :3

— if you'd like , you can send me suggestions onto doing something, i don't mind them :3

– all of my tags are in featured tags , i usually add my moots tags , feel free to ask if you would like a name tag and emoji tag ! :3 ( although, i usually ask :3 )

my project sekai code is 252842284121452548 !! ( if you want, you can add me c: ! )

i am open in moots tagging me in all sorts of posts !! ( the obvious not included :3 )

— and thats all i have to say !!

if you are curious in anything else , feel free to directly message me or ask me in my ask box :D !!

[agendabymooner]

ditty and estie greet the world || eo31 scenario

dad!esteban ocon x mom!ofc (british royal!ofc) ft. ocon!baby

POTENTIAL EXTENSION TO THE ROYAL RESEMBLANCE (SMAU)

Summary: Diana ‘Ditty’ Ocon made her presence known to the formula one world as a two year old during the FIA prize giving ceremony. Her sweetness, however, was what encouraged her parents Albertine and Esteban to show the world her capabilities as a shy toddler. 

Content warning: dad!Esteban content 😚, fluff, based on an idea I brought up to a moot, shitty French translation, Lissie Mackintosh segment, shy toddler being cheered on, OFC and baby resembles Princess Diana

Note: Having an Oscar Piastri brain rot atm but I need to get wholesome dad!F1 driver out of my system. I’m currently restraining my brain from writing more smut rn.

My friend would’ve gotten twenty dollars from me if Ferrari won this race but noooo they didn’t soooo. Enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

“Tu es très jolie, Ditty ! Maman t'a-t-elle habillée?” You look very pretty, Ditty! Did Mummy dress you up? 

“Mummy m'habille!” Mummy dress me! The little girl who sat on the Alpine driver’s lap grinned toothily at her father, babbling at her parents as she continued to speak, “Papa, rentre bientôt chez toi?” Go home soon? 

“Darling,” Albie laughed heartily, “Nous venons de quitter l'hôtel!” We just left the hotel.

“But go home soon?” Diana Marie-François Elisabeth Ocon-Khelfane, or Ditty to most, was a delightful little girl. Her great uncle Charles Spencer recalled his eldest sister’s childhood photos and how much resemblance did Ditty have to Princess Diana. Everyone in Esteban and Albertine’s family knew that, much like Albie, Ditty was a carbon copy of Diana Spencer.

Though if you were to ask anyone, Ditty was more like Diana than Albie was. Ditty was more reserved and shy— she had gotten her personality from Esteban, who often took a while to get used to new people before warming up to them. It was no wonder why Estie and Ditty made the bestest of friends— they liked to attach themselves to each other AND to Albie. 

“We’re not going home soon, pretty,” Albie told Ditty gently, fixing her daughter’s bow as the girl continued to look up with the brightest blue eyes to have ever existed. Her eyes, no matter how bright, were shaped like her father’s— so no one could really oppose and say that she wasn’t her father’s daughter. “Papa’s going to get his award soon, no? We’ll be there for Papa, Ditty.” 

“A- ‘wawd?” Ditty’s brows furrowed a little as she looked up at Estie with a puzzled look. “What is ‘ward?” 

“C'est quand vous avez fait quelque chose de vraiment, vraiment bien et que vous en obtenez quelque chose de bon,” It’s when you do something really really good that you get something good out of it. Esteban explained to Ditty with a grin. 

“Like you eating your veggies,” Estie continued. “What does Mummy give you?”

“Pain au choc’lat?” 

“Oui, mon bebe,” Estie nodded. “Except Papa’s getting something else. Not pain au chocolat!” 

Apparently, it was going to be a struggle— getting Ditty to socialize with everyone around them. It took Albie a while to unattach the toddler in her arms. 

Only for the girl to cling to Esteban as she hid her face away from the press and other people. She kept her hands wrapped around Estie’s neck as her blonde hair appeared in the pictures, journalists and photographers asking Estie and Albie to pose for the cameras. They didn’t relent, allowing Ditty to hide her little cherub face away for a brief moment as the couple waved and smiled. 

Albie, realizing that she had the little mouse plush on her hand (one that Ditty called ‘Cheese’), put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder gently and caught the toddler’s attention. “Want your friend Cheese, Dit?” 

Ditty lifted her face off her dad’s shoulder for a brief moment and nodded, “Mewci, Mummy,” before hiding away again. 

Estie and Albie exchanged looks and chuckled, amused at their daughter’s demeanour. 

“Ditty, bebe,” Estie told the girl, “Cheese wants to say hi to everyone. You want to wave too?” 

“Oh, I want to say hi, indeed, Papa!” Albie mimicked a different voice, as if she was pretending to be Cheese. “Pouvons-nous dire bonjour ensemble, Ditty?” Can we please say hi together, Ditty?

“See? He wants to wave— show him, like this—“ Estie smiled at the cameras and waved. Albie followed along, cameras flashing as they smiled. 

Slowly but surely, Ditty’s hand began to wave. She hadn’t realized that Cheese was on her hand, but she was doing what her Mummy and Papa were doing. That was enough for her. 

And when they reached the F1 host for the red carpet, Ditty went back to hiding. This time, she clutched Cheese in her hand as Esteban got interviewed by Lissie Mackintosh. 

“This is actually amazing— seeing you in P3 in the championship’s. I’m quite happy to see you become successful this season,” Lissie complimented Esteban. “Are you looking forward to the next one? Do you know what your next steps are?”

“I— I’m actually really excited for the next season,” Esteban grinned, not even aware that he’s carrying her daughter in his arms as he continued to answer. “With how things went with the car and successful communication between my team and I, I thought that it gave me more confidence to move on with the next season. And even if there will be a struggle, I know that we’ll be able to sort it out.”

“I like that,” Lissie nodded before she noticed the girl hiding away in Esteban’s arms. The host continued to ask regardless, “But for now you’re just here to celebrate your successes and you’ll be getting your prize for the P3. And I can tell that you’re here with your family too! How amazing is that!” 

“—Mrs. Albertine Ocon, it’s very nice to see you,” Lissie continued as the royal princess smiled and greeted back. “It’s been quite a handful this season, huh? I’m very glad to see you back in the Formula One celebrations and events— we’ve missed your presence in the paddock.”

“Ah yes,” the British princess chuckled, “just because I was gone for a while it didn’t mean I wasn’t doing anything.” 

“We all know that,” Lissie rolled her eyes playfully. “You probably had been working harder than your husband in here!”

“Hey!” Esteban laughed alongside the two women before he nodded in agreement, “Well, I can’t really deny that! This little darling right here was a hard work made by Albie and me but… Albie’s done more to help her grow, you know?”

Speaking of the devil…

Ditty Ocon finally grew tired of hiding away as she lifted her head and looked in front of her, cowering under the watchful eyes and camera pointed at her and her family before she hid again.

Esteban chuckled and reassured, “No, no, it’s okay, bebe! Just wave! Like we did!” 

Ditty, feeling a bit hesitant, waved lightly and continued to clutch Cheese the mouse in her hand.

“You look absolutely beautiful!” Lissie complimented the girl with a grin, trying to be as chill to allow the girl to grow comfortable with her. “Can you tell us what your name is?” 

Ditty looked at her parents as she hid her face from everyone, earning soft chuckles and a series of ‘awww’ from her surroundings.

Everyone already knew that she was Princess Diana in the making with the shyness that she showed everyone. 

But Esteban and Albertine Ocon weren’t about to let her meekness get in the way of her opportunity to be friendly to others. 

Esteban started, “It’s okay if you want to speak French, mon ange.”

He looked back at Lissie, “She prefers talking to people in French first before English.”

“Ah,” Lissie nodded.

“It’s okay, darling,” Albie cooed quietly, tucking the girl’s hair behind her ears as the princess continued, “they're nice people. We talk to them.” 

“Can you say… ‘je’…” Esteban instructed his daughter.

Ditty, with all her capabilities at the moment, had mumbled to the microphone, “Je…”

“Suis…” 

“Su’…”

“…Ditty.”

“…D—tty,” the girl mumbled with lack of confidence.

“Je suis Ditty!” Esteban repeated with a grin, his smile infecting the girl as she enthusiastically repeated this time with, “Je suis Di-tty!” I am Ditty! 

Rounds of applause were heard and given as they applauded the girl’s words. Estie and Albie both grinned as they praised Ditty.

“Good job, my girl!” Albie exclaimed with a wide, supportive smile. 

“Très bon, bébé!” Very good, baby! Estie hyped up Ditty as he clapped his hands. 

Ditty looked around her and grinned, her little hands now clapping as she clapped for herself.

Yeah… she could get used to this. Maybe her meekness will grow and she’ll become a confident girl like her mother and grandmother were.

All she needed was to be provided with endless support. This was what Esteban and Albertine Ocon were here for.

[torialefay]

hiiiii, i'm ✨ toria ✨, or you can call me tori :) she/her! i'm a '99 baby & i just write for fun/ in my downtime. i'm into astrology, so you'll see me do that from time to time. i'm also into magick, but you won't really see that on here (unless someone wants to talk ab it ofc!)

i always love to make new moots & connections on this app, so feel free to message me any time!

✨ stan: i've only really been into skz and bts (chan and namjoon bias of course), so they're all i feel comfortable writing for. lowkey want to get into ateez though, so if anyone has a good place to start, please send it my way.

✨ likes: horror movies, vanilla-scented anything, CANDLES, perfume (i'm an addict and have over 60 pls pray for my bank account), hair & makeuppp (i'm the girliest girl to have ever girled), my puppy <3 (who is actually v old but he's still my baby), a super strong iced coffee

✨ hobbies: i bake a LOT & like to cook, i love doing my grandma activities like knitting and embroidery, reading/writing ofc, basically always spending time with my friends, & i'm the tiniest bit of a gym girly (literally go as little as possible but we gotta keep that ass up you know)

🌟 quick facts:

favorite color?: pink (my entire wardrobe consists of only pink, black, and white/cream)

favorite food?: steak w/ a good red wine 🤩

random fact?: i sleep better when i have cute pajamas on... therefore i have the cutest pajama collection ever okay i am so poor but i am also slaying in my sleep

job?: i'm a student doctor!

mbti: enfp-a

big 3?: pisces ☀️, libra 🌙, taurus🪽(but i have an aries stellium, so watch out babies)

personality?: APPARENTLY i come across as a flirt. my friends always say that if they didn't know me, they'd think i was flirting in every conversation i have. but it's just my personality 🥺 how am i NOT supposed to call you baby, honey, sweetheart, my dirty little slut, etc?!?! ; i was also given the title "keeper of the vibes" bc i guess i'm pretty level-headed and optimistic (and ig more mentally stable than everyone else i surround myself with wow love that).

relationship status: single (for the first time in 5 years, so currently just trying to navigate through life 🫶🏼)

p.s.: will my moots please do this? pretty please? i wanna know so badddd

andddd i love making new moots! send me a message any time 😚

moodboard by: @hyngyu (now deactivated 😞)

[rinhaler]

idk if anyone else is feeling this or if I'm just being overly senstive but I feel like being online, especially on tumblr, is such a hostile minefield lately??

like there isn't a day that goes by I don't see a post that's like 'if you're into this you're disgusting' or 'if you ship this couple block me' and I feel like it's just constant. I think to myself like okay so what are we actually allowed to do online anymore 😭😭 I'm always gonna write and draw what I want and what makes me happy but it's always at the back of my mind like damn everyone is so mean lately can we not just be nice and supportive and if you don't like something you don't have to interact or engage... you don't need to post 'this character would never do this' or 'this character doesn't suit this trope' it just comes across so rude and makes being online in a community so uncomfortable.

This isn't at anyone in particular btw I'm just seeing it a lot. This isn't a new take by all means I know fandom is different and everyone wishes it was how it used to be when people were supportive and engaging I just am so tired of seeing it everyday. I missing having the freedom to just post stories and art without thinking. It's impossible to make everyone happy but it's so jarring to think of how many stories are going untold and works of art aren't being made out of fear of being told you're wrong or gross and blah blah blah.

I just want us all to have fun online again 🥹

And to those moots and followers who do motivate me and support me and other creators ilysm thank u for being a flicker of hope and kindness in the community

[asterinthesiren]

omg i have new agatha all along moots!!!!!! HIIIIIII

(to anyone else who wants to brainrot and scream about agatha all along, HI LET'S TALK)

[indigo-greer-collins]

i see a lot of my moots/close friends bash themselves for just. having interests or being excited about "trivial" things. and the basis for this is usually some bullshit about maturity/being too old for it.

so if you'll let me be sappy and preachy for a moment.

all of yall who think this about yourselves (me included at times) need to be WAY nicer to yourselves. i know what some of you guys have been through/dealt with. i know theres some way harder shit that no one knows you've gone through too. not everyone in your situation would've even survived, let alone still be some level of functional.

let yourself have this! who cares if it's "stupid"? there's whole communities around you who enjoy/bond with you over those same interests! some of yall dont even have access to other copes or support, it's not fair to now degrade yourself because you enjoy things?? enjoyment/excitement is a human emotion! and an important one! whoever is defining maturity/being grown up as being depressed/miserable/cynical all the time and pushing it onto everybody, needs to do some self-reflection instead of ruining fun for others.

dont let others allergy to joy and whimsy take away from your hobbies or interests or whatever fucking else. write your fanfics, make your fanart, ramble/get excited about that new piece of lore or that new merchandise you got. other people dont get to police what makes you happy, idc if they're your family/closest friends.

tldr; have fun!!! be silly!!! and anyone who doesnt want you to, can bite the curb!!!

[440mxs-wife]

The Country Doctor, Chapter 5: Going Home

Pairing: Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy x F!Reader (eventual). Other Characters are the usual suspects: Jim Kirk, Nyota Uhura, Spock, Christine Chapel, Scotty, Guinan. Jocelyn (Leonard's ex-wife, mentioned)

Word Count: 4955

Warnings: Medical stuff, Leonard slipping into "doctor mode", supportive townspeople, friends trying to get Leonard and the Reader to confront their feelings about each other, scheming CEO, escape from the hospital, Jim still being his usual, charming, mischievous self. Slow burn (I know) but it's going to heat up a bit here and going forward.

Summary: Fresh off of his divorce, Dr. McCoy receives word that he has inherited a 5,000-acre farm and home in Logan, Montana. Finally, he has an opportunity for a clean slate and to start his own clinic out west and leave his ex-wife behind. Along the way, he'll meet a cast of unique characters, each with a place in his new small-town life. But there could be trouble ahead in the form of a powerful CEO hell-bent on acquiring Leonard's property by any means necessary.

A/N: This idea was posted by @hailbop1701, with a specific list of plot points/dialog, which will appear in bold in this chapter. Still not sure how many parts there'll be, but I hope you like where I take the story. Also, I have intermixed AOS with NextGen to include additional characters.

A/N 2: If you’ve been tagged here, it’s because you’ve interacted one or more times on a McCoy story of mine, or we’re moots. Whether you like or reblog, I am eternally grateful for your support. If anyone else would like to be tagged on any future Karl Urban character postings, or would rather leave the Crazy Train, please let me know. Thank you, and enjoy the show!

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

Previously:

"If it's a war they want, I'll give them a war."

The incessant beeping from the machines at your bedside finally broke through the fog of your concussion. You tried to move your bandaged right arm, then noticed it was partially held down by hands tucked under a head full of dark hair. A gentle smile curved your lips as you recognized who was keeping vigil at your bedside.

As you carefully attempted to slide your hand out, Leonard stirred awake. His head slowly rose and he looked around before eventually his gaze landed on you. He leisurely blinked his eyes as they adjusted to the brightness level of your room and flashed you a tender smile. "Hey, you're awake," he murmured.

"You noticed," you teased. "Where am I? How long have I been out? What's the prognosis, Doc?"

"One question at a time, darlin'," he chuckled. "You're at the hospital in Belgrade, where you've been out for the past day or so." He moved to sit on the edge of your bed and explained about your concussion, broken left arm, plus the second-degree burns. "Your prognosis is good, although you've got some recovery time ahead of you. And you can bet I'll be makin' sure you're takin' it easy. Doctor's orders," he winked.

"Whatever you say, Doc," you quipped, then dropped your gaze to your hands in your lap. "Thank you, Len. 'M real sorry I interrupted your fishin' trip with Jim. Have you been here this whole time?"

"Been here pretty much since Uhura told us you were brought in. And don't you worry none about the fishin' trip, sweetheart. That's not important. What is important is there were hardly any injuries, yours being the most serious. As you can see, though, we got you patched up, and you're safe now," he affirmed.

A knock on the door paused your conversation as you called out and granted entrance to your room. Jim carried a vase of flowers, while Uhura brought in a bag with the pharmacy's logo on it. When you asked her about it, she explained that Mr. Spock and Christine put in a few magazines, plus your Lemon Drops and some Butterscotch Disks.

"How nice of them to do that," you remarked, your eyes becoming glassy. You cleared your throat to regain your composure. "Oh! That reminds me. I'll need to reorder our clinic supplies from the pharmacy, since everything was in the back of the truck."

"Will you please relax? Let me contact Spock, and we'll get the supply order all sorted out. You just focus on getting enough rest so you can get out of here," Leonard replied.

"What're you talkin' about, I am rested," you protested weakly as you yawned, and your eyelids began to droop again.

Leonard gave you a barely-contained grin and rested a hand on your cheek. "Uh-huh, yeah, keep tellin' yourself that, sweetheart," he lightly chuckled.

When he stood up to leave, you grabbed his hand. "Please don't go," you pleaded softly.

"Close your eyes and rest, darlin', I won't be gone long. Jim and I are going back to the house and get cleaned up, then we'll come right back here, I promise. Need anything from home?" he asked.

"Mmm, maybe my toothbrush, please?" you mumbled.

Leonard bent down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "You got it, sugar," he whispered. "Nyota's going to stay with you while we run home, okay?" You nodded slowly in response, your eyes already closed and halfway to dreamland. He met Uhura on the way out of your room. "Take care of our girl, hmm?"

"Of course, Dr. McCoy," she replied with a knowing grin. In response, he rolled his eyes with a smirk as he strode down the hall.

***

A short time later, the car wove its way along the highway returning to the McCoy family home. On the way back, the conversation was sporadic, with the silence filled by the music from the radio, playing at a low volume.

Mostly, they talked about how worried they were for you and how to make your recovery at home as easy as possible. They also speculated about who was behind the attack. "Tell you this much, Jim. I'm not going to stop until we find the sonofabitch who's behind all of this," Leonard growled.

"I'm right with you, Bones. You know you can count on me and just about everyone else in this town to help you," Jim vowed. Leonard nodded his head in thanks.

As they turned up the driveway, they noticed a few unfamiliar cars parked near the house. "Um, Bones, were you expecting company? 'Cause it looks like we have some people waiting for us," he gestured towards the figures rising from their seats on the porch.

Jim and Leonard slowly exited the car and cautiously approached the house. As they got closer, they were relieved to see that their visitors included Mr. Spock, Christine, and Scotty. Also in attendance was Guinan, whom they'd had yet to meet, until today.

"Good evening, Dr. McCoy. We hope you can forgive us for appearing on your doorstep without a prior invitation," Spock began. After everyone was again seated, he asked about your condition.

"She's fine, Nyota's staying with her at the hospital. They haven't mentioned when she'll be discharged, but I'll take a look at her chart the next time I see her. Once she gets home, I hope she'll do what's best and take plenty of time to rest. Not that I think she'll listen," Leonard commented, the others smiling in agreement.

"A fine, strong woman, that one," Scotty observed. "Have the authorities figured out who did this? I mean, why would anyone want to hurt a lass as kind and sweet as she is?"

"Indeed, Mr. Scott, but perhaps she was not the target," Spock suggested. "After all, it was Dr. McCoy's truck to which the explosive device was attached. The perpetrator would not have had any reason to believe that someone other than Dr. McCoy had driven the vehicle to town."

'Wait a minute, are you suggesting that I was the target??" McCoy exclaimed. "Why would anyone try to kill me?! I'm not important!"

Immediately, a chorus of protests arose from multiple directions. "I believe your statement is incorrect, Doctor," Spock remarked.

"Aww, Bones, you're the best out of all of us," Jim agreed. "We all know that gruff, cantankerous, sarcastic layer of yours is just a cover for your true compassionate nature. My theory is that NorthStar Corp had something to do with it. Especially, considering how relentless they've been about getting you to sell to them," he noted grimly.

"The lad has a point, Doctor. Whatever is on this land you have, they want it, and they've proven that they're willing to cross any line to get it. And they don't care who gets in the way," Scotty muttered.

Leonard thought for a moment about what his friends were saying, and realized there was more than a kernel of truth in their words. He was deep in thought, trying to decide how to best handle the situation, when he felt a hand on his arm. He jerked back in surprise, then eventually relaxed when he saw who it was.

"Hello, Dr. McCoy, my name is Guinan. It's nice to meet you, though I wish it were under better circumstances. I own a little place called the Tenth Avenue Pub, where I tend bar and I listen," she explained.

"Yeah, I've heard of your place. Been meaning to stop in, but haven't had the time," he replied.

"It's a nice place, even if I do say so myself. You should come by some time. By the way, I sure liked your Uncle Walter. He was one of my regulars, and I spent many a night listening to his stories. He had some good ones, ol' Walter," Guinan grinned as she gave him a sideways glance. "One night, he even shared with me some old records from a survey done on this land," she revealed.

Leonard leaned forward in his seat with his curiosity now obviously piqued. "Really? What did the reports say?"

"They revealed extensive veins of copper and silver all over your property, running beneath the earth's surface. Not only that, but he found some blue stones in a couple of areas that turned out to be sapphires. Valuable ones, too. I believe all of that is what NorthStar Corp is after, Dr. McCoy," Guinan finished.

Leonard's mouth dropped open in surprise at this revelation. His mind reeled with the possibilities of what he could accomplish as a doctor by having that kind of wealth. He also understood that there were some persistent people who would stop at nothing to acquire these resources. They could be among the ones who attacked you and were therefore dangerous. "All right, what do I do?" he asked.

"You need to contact a surveyor to get an updated analysis. I believe the company your uncle used is still in business, Blue Mountain Survey and Mining Corp. With them, you'll finally know what you've got going on under this land of yours. Then, you can decide what to do about it," Guinan advised.

"Good idea, thank you. I'm sorry, everyone, but Jim and I only stopped home long enough to clean up. Then we, or at least I, need to get back to the hospital. As I promised her," he murmured the last part, mostly to himself. 

Upon hearing Leonard's last comment, Spock convinced Guinan and the others to take their leave. He assured Dr. McCoy that everyone would take turns keeping an eye on the place while he was away, assisting in your recovery. Each of them shook his hand as they passed him on the way to their cars and offered their wishes for your swift return.

***

After everyone left, Jim and Leonard entered the house, each to take a shower, pack a few things, then return to the hospital. Leonard suggested that Jim could stay home if he wanted, instead of going back, but he wouldn't hear of it. He said you were his friend, and as such, he should be there to keep you company, even if it was just to sit there and tell dumb jokes. Leonard agreed and smiled at Jim's dedication to your friendship.

From his drawers, he pulled a few days' change of clothes, mainly T-shirts and jeans, plus sleeping attire. He also grabbed pajamas and a change of clothes for you, knowing you would need something to wear when you left the hospital. When he withdrew the clothes from your dresser, he brought them to his nose, closed his eyes, and deeply inhaled. He detected a hint of rose, mixed with something that was uniquely you.

When he started to stuff everything in his bag, he abruptly stopped and listened. The house was quiet, too quiet. He became aware that it was because you weren't there to fill it with your laughter, your questions, or your singing in the kitchen or shower. Suddenly, his heart ached in places he thought he'd completely closed off after the divorce. He realized that it was due to your absence and he sat down on the edge of the bed.

That was how Jim found him when he came in to check and see if his friend was ready to go. He took a seat next to Leonard, who was staring at the wall in front of him. "Hey, Bones, you okay? What's going on?" he asked.

Leonard took a deep breath before answering. "It's too quiet here without her here. Feels so empty, but she's everywhere I look. She's only been moved in with us for a few weeks, and I'm already so used to her being here. With what happened that day with my truck, I-I almost lost her, Jim. If she....if....if I....," he trailed off, dropping his gaze to the floor.

"You care about her, Bones. It's okay to finally admit you like her," Jim grinned, happy that his friend at last realized his feelings.

"Of course I like her, what's not to like?" Leonard countered.

"No, no, you like her, like really, really like her," Jim teased.

Leonard snorted. "What are we, in elementary school? Next thing you know, you'll be singing that damn song about us sitting in a tree and k-i-s-s-i-n-g or something," he grumbled.

"Well, I could do that, but I've been told I have a terrible singing voice," Jim smirked. "Seriously, you should tell her how you feel, then kiss her the very next time you have a chance." He continued despite his friend's glare. "You belong together and everyone knows it except the two of you," he added with a shrug.

"Everyone? Who, exactly, is 'everyone'?" he wondered.

"Let's see. Me, Uhura, Spock, Christine, Scotty--" Jim ticked the names off on his fingers, one by one, but was interrupted.

"Okay, okay, I get it," he sighed. "You know, I didn't think I ever wanted to be in another relationship, not after what I went through with Jocelyn and the divorce. As you noted earlier, I'm grumpy, cantankerous, and what else did you say? Oh, yeah. Sarcastic. Usually all of that keeps women away, but not my girl. Noooo, she must see me as a challenge, one she's not willing to back down from," he finished with a wry grin.

"You don't really want your girl to back down, though, do you?" Jim asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Nope," McCoy answered, a mischievous smile crossing his face as he finished packing his bag.

***

Boston, Massachusetts - Headquarters for NorthStar Corp, CEO's office

Miles Cooper was seething. First, Travis Myers failed to produce results through a contract signed by Dr. McCoy over his land. He was fired, which sent him on a downward spiral, and out of control. As part of some misguided revenge for her tanking the deal with McCoy, Travis decided to set his ex-girlfriend's apartment on fire. Unfortunately, the blaze got out of control and spread to the other units. The building was declared a total loss and displaced around 15 tenants, including some with children.

Fortunately, it didn't take long for the authorities to catch up to Travis and charge him with First-Degree Arson. Such a charge carried a sentence up to a maximum of 20 years in prison, if convicted. And, with the newly-discovered security camera footage, conviction appeared highly likely to occur. What an idiot, he muttered to himself.

Second, the explosive that his operative attached to the truck didn't harm Dr. McCoy in any way, because he was nowhere near it when it was destroyed. It was the perfect plan on paper, yet the execution of it epically failed, since it missed his intended target. In fact, you were the one in the hospital, recovering from injuries, which only seemed to strengthen Dr. McCoy's resolve. I am surrounded by incompetence, he inwardly grumbled.

A tentative knock on his door broke him out of the silent rant going through his head. "What?!?" he barked. His assistant, Connor Morris, pushed open the door and strode up to Cooper's desk to hand over a piece of paper, his boss' patience already thin. What about this document could possibly be important enough to warrant an interruption?

As Cooper read through the document, he became more frustrated as he learned that Dr. McCoy had called for a new survey of his land. He'd already secured a team attached to a mining company, further complicating an already tense situation. Dammit. If McCoy ever discovers what he's inherited, he'll never sell to NorthStar Corp. I've got to do something and do it fast, Cooper thought.

His eyes left the paper to address his assistant. "Call an emergency board meeting. Tell them we have a situation that needs handled at once. Attendance is mandatory," he ground out. Connor nodded and swiftly exited the office to begin making the necessary phone calls.

Maybe I've been going about this all wrong. So far, blunt force hasn't worked, what with the apartment fire and blowing up McCoy's truck. No, perhaps the matter calls for a softer touch. He knew about McCoy's ex-wife, who was currently married to a real-estate developer. She was tired of the long hours and less than first-class lifestyle as the wife of a doctor. So, she traded in a doctor for a real-estate mogul and ascended a few rungs on the social ladder.

When Dr. McCoy moved to Montana, he left her and her now-husband in his rear-view mirror. I think it's about time for a reunion, Cooper smiled to himself as a plan formulated in his mind. Considering the wealth potential for the McCoy land, he anticipated Jocelyn's greed would win out and bring her to Montana. With the board members' gluttony, they would offer little to no resistance for this course of action. Satisfied with his solution, Cooper leaned back in his chair and rested his steepled index fingers against his lips, an evil grin snaking across his face.

***

Uhura quietly turned the page on the magazine she was reading while you slept. She was still trying to come to grips with how close she came to losing you, her best friend. It was by sheer luck that you survived, considering your injuries. It would be a long road to recovery, but she was sure you were strong enough to get through it. Especially with Dr. McCoy on your side, every step of the way, she grinned to herself.

When will these two wise up and admit how they feel about each other? she wondered. It was a conversation she'd had many times with Jim, who was just as frustrated as she was. Only his situation was worse, because he had to live under the same roof with you and Leonard pining for each other. Uhura shook her head in silent amusement, wishing her two friends could see for themselves what was already obvious to everyone who knew them.

"Hey, stranger," you murmured, your eyelids fluttering open. "I see you drew the short straw, huh?"

Uhura chuckled softly. "Nah, I don't mind the quiet, as long as that means you're getting the rest you need after what you've been through," she affirmed, squeezing your hand. "Plus, it gives me time to think about....stuff."

"Oh really?" you returned with an arched eyebrow. "What 'stuff' are you thinking about?"

"About you and Dr. McCoy," she replied simply.

"What about Dr. McCoy and me? We're just friends, Nyota," you assured her.

She rolled her eyes at your assertion. "My dear, sweet friend, when are you going to admit that there is more going on between you than 'just friends'? I've seen the way you look at each other, and there are 'more than friendly' glances passing between you," she pointed out, grabbing your hands. "He looks at you like you're the only woman in the world. You look at him like he hung the stars and the moon, just for you."

Your eyes widened in surprise and bit of panic. Does Leonard know? Oh god, am I that obvious? you thought. "I mean....it feels like we've gotten closer since I've been living at his house, but....I'm sure it's all in my imagination," you declared hastily as you pulled your hands away.

Uhura dropped her head into her hands and groaned loudly in frustration. Before she had a chance to comment any further, the subject of the conversation strode through the door. In his hands, he held a bouquet of yellow tulips, gardenias, and pink roses in a decorative crystal vase. "Just friends, huh?" Uhura snickered.

"Quiet," you hissed, then beamed a smile at Leonard. "You're back! And you look refreshed," you commented.

He returned your smile as he placed the flowers on the table near your bed. "Amazing how a little soap and some hot water can make a man feel like himself again," he replied, then reached for your chart.

Before his fingers could grasp it, a man named Dr. Bennett strode into the room. He wasn't the same doctor as had been treating you since you arrived, which raised your suspicions. You tried to keep your expression neutral as Dr. Bennett reviewed your vital signs, inspected your injuries, and asked about your pain level. "You seem to be healing well, no complications so far. Any questions?" he wondered.

"Um, well, just one: when can I go home?" you asked.

Dr. Bennett heaved a deep sigh and appeared reluctant to give you an exact number of days. The more you pressed him about leaving, the more reasons he came up with to keep you. Nothing you said was convincing enough to get him to agree to release you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Leonard's level of suspicion and annoyance also rise. His eyes darkened and his fists were clenched at his sides as he tried to maintain his composure. You reached over and as soon as you touched his hand, it relaxed and he intertwined his fingers with yours. Fortunately, Dr. Bennett's phone rang and informed him that his assistance was needed elsewhere in the hospital. He gave you one last glance before heading out the door.

"I don't know what that guy's problem is, but he's up to something. I read your chart, and there's no reason for you to stay here any longer," Leonard muttered. "We're going to sneak you out of here, don't you worry," he promised and squeezed your hand.

"Are you sure something's going on? Maybe he's just being overly cautious or--" you started.

"He may be a 'doctor', but he could have a PhD in Ornithology, for all we know. That doesn't make him qualified to be your physician, so we're gettin' you out," he replied with determination.

"I'm all for going home, Len. However, you have your own stuff to deal with, I don't want to add to it," you finished in a small voice.

He sat down on the edge of the mattress and gazed fondly at you. His right hand found your cheek and his thumb caressed your skin. "Listen. For me, taking care of you is not some duty or obligation. You've become an important piece in my life, and I'll do whatever is needed to keep it that way," he declared.

Your right hand reached up to cover his and as you ran your thumb over the back of it, you sent him a shy smile. "All right. Let's get out of here."

***

"Okay, we don't have much time," Jim whispered. "I saw a laundry area down the hall. Be right back." Within a few minutes, he had returned with a set of scrubs, which he basically threw at Leonard and gestured towards your in-room bathroom. "Go change, we'll wait out here for you."

Leonard stood stunned for a moment but broke out of his haze when Jim made a shooing motion with his hands. He reappeared a few minutes later after he had exchanged his regular clothes for scrubs. Jim handed him a doctor's long, white coat with the hospital's name embroidered on it to complete the illusion.

"Now we're going to get you unhooked from everything, then Uhura is going to help you get dressed. We'll leave the I.V. in for now, but disconnect you from the fluid bag. That way we won't alert the staff or anything," he explained.

"You're the doc, Doc," you sighed. Leonard caught your smaller hand in one of his larger ones, his thumb gently rubbing circles on the back of it, then returned to his duties. He maintained eye contact with you while he unscrewed the connection between the I.V. port and the bag of solution hanging from the pole. When he was done, he tenderly kissed the back of your hand and winked as he released it.

"While Uhura helps you get changed into regular clothes, Jim and I will try and hunt down a wheelchair to take you out in. You still feelin' okay? How's your pain level?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

"I'm fine, Len, just anxious to get home and sleep in my own bed," you assured him.

As soon as he left, you removed your finger from the pulse oximeter and as quickly as your injuries would allow, you hurried into the bathroom. An alarm sounded and a nurse rushed into your room to make sure you hadn't fallen or were in any kind of distress. She called your name and when she heard you answer from behind the closed door, she turned off the alarm. "Let me know when you're back in bed and I'll hook everything back up, okay?"

You gave a noncommittal grunt in response and you were relieved when you heard her retreating footsteps. "That was close," you muttered. "Hand me my shirt, please?" She passed you the T-shirt that Leonard had packed for you, which looked very much like one of his. Uhura noticed as well and smirked as she helped you balance enough to pull on your jeans. You finished sliding your feet into your shoes at the moment Jim returned, also dressed in scrubs.

"Your chariot awaits, milady," he grinned with a deep bow. With a playful roll of your eyes, you sat down and allowed Jim to position your feet on the pads of the wheelchair. He handed you a baseball cap and told you to keep your head down until you were safely in the car. Once you were settled, Jim grabbed the keys and left the room so he could drive the car up to the doors.

Leonard played the part of your physician, pushing your chair at a brisk but not overly noticeable pace. Uhura walked ahead of you, opening doors and checking around the corners, while you drew ever closer to the exit. You closed your eyes and crossed your fingers that you wouldn't draw any unnecessary attention to yourselves in your escape.

The three of you reached the sliding doors at the exact moment that Jim pulled into the pick-up lane to meet you. A security guard started to take an interest in you as you crossed the threshold, which increased your anxiety level. But by the time he had caught up, you, Leonard, and Uhura were already in the car and leaving the hospital's grounds.

What you didn't know was that this particular guard was stationed at the hospital to keep an eye on you. He wasn't looking forward to the call he had to make, but he had a duty to his employer to keep him informed. "Yeah, Bennett? Better tell Cooper that she's escaped....yeah, I'm sure! Just saw her climb into a car with McCoy and her other two friends." The man grimaced as the call disconnected.

***

The next few weeks were spent getting used to a new routine of post-hospital care. During the first couple of weeks, Leonard insisted that you rest and recover from your injuries. You initially protested, leading to a few verbal clashes with Leonard. Eventually, his persistence paid off, because you decided to let yourself be taken care of. You spent your days engaging in more relaxing activities, such as reading, plus there was a large library of movies to choose from.

In the quiet afternoons, Mimzy stretched out in the puddles of sunlight on the floor, while your thoughts frequently drifted to Leonard. What was he doing, how busy was the clinic that day, has he eaten lunch or drank any water, you wondered. Does he miss me? You shook your head at that last question as ridiculous and mentally scolded yourself. Leonard McCoy did not have romantic feelings for you, even though you had them for him.

Since you'd met him, Leonard has held a special place in your heart. He may be gruff, sarcastic, and a bit set in his ways, but you saw beneath the surface. In your eyes, he had a kind, warm heart, a sharp wit, and was caring and sweet, especially with kids. And there was no question of how handsome and charismatic he was, which anyone could see. You'd fallen in love with all of it, all of him.

A similar mental conversation was occurring in Leonard's mind about you. What is she doing, is she in any pain, should I check and see if she needs anything, he pondered. Does she miss me? He scoffed at that last notion and returned his attention to the patient currently in his care. You had better things to do with your day than bother thinking about him. There was no way you had feelings of any kind other than friendship for him.

The minute you stepped out of your car on the day he met you, he was intrigued. To him, you were smart, funny, and kind, frequently putting the needs of others ahead of your own. When your apartment building burned down, he didn't hesitate to offer you a place to stay. Still, you were concerned that you were somehow inconveniencing him. Now, he couldn't imagine his house or his life any other way than with you in it. Nor did he want to.

Perhaps Jim was right, and he should tell you how he feels. After all, you did kiss him before he took off on that damned fishing trip, that had to mean something, right? He recalled that Jocelyn wasn't as free with her affections towards him as you seemed to be. It was one of the contributing factors in why the marriage ended, because he stopped feeling that connection to her.

On the other hand, you didn't hesitate when it came to physical expression. You took his hand, or to put yours on his shoulder or arm as you walked by him without a second thought. The warmth of your touch lingered long after you'd left his side, leaving him wishing for your return. And more than once he'd caught you staring at him, only for you to quickly look away, a sheepish smile on your face. Maybe...., he thought to himself, a smile spreading across his face as he resolved to explore this idea further and see where it would lead.

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

Tags: @marvelouslytrekking @hailbop1701 @anna-phora @spacedancer1701 @lassie-bird @phoenixisred @wayward-dreamer @erindiggory @strangesgirls @genevablog26 @dumpsterhippie @lokis-deares @medicatemedrmccoy @rooweighton @mamamercurymist @d-doki-doki @malmeansbad @ghosttrekkie @imamotherfuckingstar-lord @bellestalesoffiction @silversword7000 @maximumtacoshark @xspacedemonx @ilachoasgrem @imherefordeanandbones @jax-the-oregonian @madame-slayer

[3cosmicfrogs]

Last line tag game!!

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or however many you like).

tagged by @frodo-of-the-nine-fingers

not a writer but i do draw. since yall have been SO lovely in welcoming me to Triangle Corner, here's a spoiler for my next 3zun art:

Anyway

Tagging @chitsangenthusiast and anyone else who wants to join (i have very few mdzs moots pls i just started going here)

[wof-reworked]

whats ur opinion on dragons having different houses bc of class or tribe? i love dragon architecture </3

I'm such a fan of dragon architecture oh my god. One of my biggest worldbuilding gripes (besides the lack of clarity around food/cooking) is that the actual housing arrangements of the dragons are so vague????? Like towns are a thing but also Tui seems to imply most dragons sleep in caves even though it makes no sense for any of the other tribes???? like ma'am most of your dragons live in swamps, jungles, or deserts where the hell are they even finding them

Basically, we have functionally no point of reference for anyone who isn't royalty (Winter, Turtle) or grew up in such specific circumstances that don't reflect back onto broader dragon society to the point where their input is rather moot (Moon, the DoD, Peril, Qibli). Qibli is the closest thing we have but the Scorpion Den is a combination of a shanty town and refugee camp that makes it harder to draw conclusions for the rest of the population. (We're also not counting Darkstalker bc. well. 2000 years)

For my writing, my stance is usually that dragons are primarily nomadic. Dragons who live in/around towns stay there primarily for reasons like child-raising, business, injury, apprenticeships, or just laying low/blending into a crowd. Like with how dragons don't need to cook their food to eat it, dragons are not dependent on housing and are able to comfortably sleep and live outside (barring extremes such as the central desert or really the entire Ice Kingdom). So, the exact permanence of a dragon's stay in town is situational and tribe/job-dependent more than anything else.

As far as the tribes go, Icewings and Nightwings are the most home/town oriented tribes- both tribes have the rarest approach to housing in that almost all members of both tribes live and sleep primarily in one home location that they return to for the majority of their life. For Icewings, this usually looks like multi-generational families that split off into new homes/houses only once there's a real need for it. On the other hand, Nightwings living on the volcano lived primarily together in caves/dormitories divided by age- even though this no longer exists, most Nightwing towns and houses involve many shared buildings and resemble something more like tight clumps of houses or caves.

For the majority of the tribes (Skywings, Sandwings, Mudwings, Rainwings), most dragons will have multiple houses that they move between as needed or wanted. While outliers exist, most dragons have at minimum two homes/dens: one in a more populated area that might operate as a job homebase or a place to receive guests, and a more isolated, private home that exists for the dragon in question to stash any items of importance or valuables, as well as eat and sleep. For more nomadic dragons, banks exist in towns to hold treasure, freeing up their secondary/non-work den to be little more than a shack or burrow with sleeping arrangements. More houses usually equals more money/class power, up to a certain point, where you start to see buildings more akin to Vulture's mansion or even the Royal Palaces, where one building or collection of buildings is large/grandiose enough to host other people's jobs and living spaces (on a related note, gardening is a very stereotypical high class hobby to have, as it shows both an abundance of leisure time and of space).

Between these tribes, Skywings are the most town and home oriented- Skywings often live primarily in towns and only leave for what is essentially a nesting den, as without rudimentary flight skills, Skywing towns are borderline unnavigable and occasionally hazardous for dragonets. Even with their relative isolation, nesting dens in the past have often been located near other nesting dens, creating something of a nesting village for Skywings parents to socialize and raise their hatchlings. Queen Scarlet's reign did irreparable damage to this style of collective child-rearing and nesting dens as a whole. With her breeding programs, most Skywings were forced into partnerships for the sole reason of producing more future Skywing soldiers, and the majority of eggs were instead stored in mass hatcheries until their hatching day.

On the other hand, Mudwings are the most isolated and nomadic, in part due to the structure of sib groups creating a situation where most Mudwings hatch into life with a social network already established. The Mud Kingdom is also temperate enough that housing isn't always necessary, and most Mudwings only congregate in towns for business or seeking a mate.

Finally, Seawings are almost entirely nomadic, and will usually move between a territory, with small dens and hoards scattered within. These territories can hold many multiple families, or they can exist for a single dragon- Seawing property laws are almost nonexistent and mostly maintained by honor and frequent patrolling of the territory to maintain order and mark it as lived space. These territories aren't uninhabited land either- Seawings will grow seaweed and herd schools of fish on their territory, and many take a certain landscaper-esque role, shaping the terrain into something aesthetically pleasing or useful to the inhabitant and helping signal to other Seawings that the land is occupied. One of the few times Seawings will settle in one den or space is for a hatching den- this lasts from the laying of the eggs until the hatchlings become able to swim well enough to keep up with their parents.

I've been pretty burnt out on WOF writing for a while, but this was honestly a refreshing change of pace from what I've been working on recently. Thanks for giving me an excuse to ramble about dragon housing !! I'd love to hear what other ppl think, the more headcanons the merrier :>

[novashelby]

I'm Sorry....

I'm really sorry these last few days I have been kind of cunty posting. Life is emotionally hard for me right now. I don't want to go really deep cause I don't think anyone really wants to or needs to hear about all the shit in Nova's head. In short, as many of you know, my dad passed away in July. It was unexpected and my grieving process has been extremely hard and difficult. Mostly because of my awful narcissistic mother. Aside from that, I live across the ocean from my home. 1. That makes it extremely difficult going through the holiday season. Not only being away from family, but essentially having no more family other than my aunt. I've been away from my best friends. So, I have no one. Yes, of course, I have friends here and a social life, but it isn't the same. 2. My mother is still making my life difficult; over calling, harassing me, and all that. I can't block her because she isn't only vindictive, but cruel and mean. She has almost no limits and blocking her may poke a bear.

In saying this, I have been highly sensitive about a lot lately. Typically about things that shouldn't bother me. It is why I cling so hard to Evie because, as pathetic as it sounds, I quite literally have no family. I have one aunt and then a group of cousins, aunts, and uncles who don't really think of me unless they have to. So, they don't exactly count.

Part of me was feeling highly sensitive about the lack of engagement on my recent work or like lack of inclusion in the community. Seeing everyone, because we are all moots, talk and interact with another kind of hurts. (Though, it shouldn't cause I haven't been really active and engaging with others the last few months-I'm trying my best in catching up and doing my part in that). But I know it isn't because of that, but because the issues in my real life that somehow and someway mirror that exact same situation are taking place; feeling like an outsider in my new community, having no family, not being included, etc. I don't exactly know how to explain it, really. So, I hope what I wrote makes sense. TL;DR: because my personal life is sort of shit and it's over bubbling, things that I don't normally think about are bothering me. I don't expect engagement or inclusion, and I'm happy being moots just to be moots. So, know that it isn't me complaining or angry at anyone other than my own emotionally torn brain at the moment.

I am sorry that I kind of use this as a method of release because there really is nowhere else. So, I am so sorry to be kind of a trauma dumping idiot. I'm sorry for not always being the best person and friend on here. And I'm sorry that I have been kind of....out in left field?

I will get back to normal Nova or whatever that is sooner or later.

Thank you to all my wonderful friends on her that have listened and messaged me. Thank you to everyone who takes the time to appreciate my work. I suck at replying to comments sometimes, but I read them all and I hold them close to my heart.

Peace and Love.