#i couldn't write properly for like a year and a half or two

[parfaitblogs]

you're losing me ❀ s. reid x reader

in which he's an entirely different person after prison, and your relationship is crumbling. 

pairing: spencer reid x reader genre: angst tags: post prison reid. no happy ending. argument/fight. strong language. word count: 2.0k a/n: big fan of soul crushing angst. clearly. i dreamt this one up in an everything shower. likely place for me to plan fics? whole lot of nothing happening i love yapping about sadness!! my least favourite spencer trait is that he doesn't think he deserves good things so he pushes them away so obviously i have to write novellas on him doing just that? this used to be based on tolerate it but i listened to ylm the entire time so erm. things change! lol enjoy xoxo

Perhaps you were stupid. 

Very, very stupid. And ridiculous. And every other synonym for those two words that your brain could not possibly imagine up right now. You were all of them. But also none of them. Because you also felt like there was not a single word that could describe you anymore; if there was, maybe you'd consider yourself a person. But clearly you weren't a person. Not anymore, at least. Not to him. 

An awfully painful year it had been. And maybe that's what stripped you of your right to be a person. Maybe it was the overtime. Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Maybe it was everything all at once. Maybe it was nothing at all. 

Three years of dating one man meant you learned quite a bit about who he is as a person to you. Eight years of knowing him meant you knew very well what sort of person he is in general. 

And this wasn't him. 

He was sitting on your couch. A piece of furniture that had, in just one year, erased the memory of you from it, there no longer being an indent on the right side where you always sat. A book was sat in his lap, but he wasn't properly reading it. You could tell from how slowly he turned the pages. From how he stopped every few minutes to rub his eyes, his eyebrows creasing and a quiet, irritated huff leaving his lips. 

It was a habit he had developed. 

This was how it was every night. Three o'clock came, and your body would wake you up from an otherwise restless sleep, and you would drag your feet out to where the man who should be occupying the other side of your bed, actually is. And he wouldn't look up, but you both acknowledged each other's presence, silently. 

And you would watch him for an hour. Until your eyes began to droop, and your feet started to ache, and your heart couldn't handle any more shattering for the night. And then you would drag yourself back to the bedroom, and you would climb into a now cold bed, and you would fall back asleep for another two hours. 

Like clockwork.

You were good with him. So patient. You would make him mugs of morning coffee that he wouldn't drink, and you would wash clothes he wouldn't say 'thank you' for. You wondered if he was actually grateful or not. 

You were too scared to ask. 

"Hey," you said, quietly, when he had come home from work, shrugging his bag off his shoulders, and slipping shoes off his feet. 

"Hi," he answered. As if on instinct, he moved to where you were seated at the barstool to kiss you in greeting, before brushing past and heading into the kitchen. 

You watched him for a few moments as he found a piece of bread to eat, nothing on it. Just... dry. Before your eyes returned to the laptop screen you had open in front of you, fingers tapping away at your keyboard. 

"There's been another terror threat," you said to him, tilting your head to the side. "But they let me work from home."

"Why'd they do that?" he asked, but he could not sound less interested. 

You lifted your head, because you thought he knew. "Because of you, Spence."

"Oh, okay," he answered, and you watched as he threw out half of the bread he did not eat, before he disappeared down the hallway. 

He didn't even care. 

You stared at the empty space down the hall, where he had once been, heart lodged in your throat in an uncomfortable lump you couldn't swallow. This was why you felt stupid. 

Maybe you were sick of feeling stupid. You must be, because subconsciously, your feet had already planted themselves firmly on the floor, and your legs were already taking you down the hall in the exact direction he had just disappeared to. 

He was taking his button up off when you appeared in the doorway to your bedroom, replacing it with a t-shirt. You had never seen him wear so many t-shirts until now. 

You cleared your throat, alerting him of your presence, and he turned, his eyebrows furrowing when he saw you. 

"You know you can talk to me, right?" you said, voice wavering with cautiousness. 

His lips parted, then they closed, and all he managed was a short nod, before he turned back around to find pyjama pants in his drawers. 

"Spencer, I'm serious," you pressed, taking a step into the room. "You need to talk to someone about this."

"I have those counseling sessions at work," he answered, turning back around to face you only once he was wearing pants. 

Your lips pursed. "You hate those."

"Yes, but I'm talking to someone."

"Not someone you trust!"

"And if I talk to you, it would be so different compared to a counsellor, right?"

You froze. He froze. Maybe he realised the implication of his words, you certainly did. That such a simple spoken sentence had your heart stuttering in your chest. 

You shakily exhaled. "I'd hope it would be different," you decided to say. "But I wouldn't be surprised if it isn't anymore."

He stood straighter at your comment. Perhaps not the best thing to say. Certainly not the most mature. 

"What does that mean?"

Right. The reason you decided to follow him in the first place. "I just—I don't feel like you care anymore. And I have tried to be patient, Spencer. I really have. But you shut me out, and we don't even talk anymore. I make you coffee, I do your laundry, I offer to cook, I clean up the house, I do everything I possibly can so you can focus on healing, and I can't even get a proper sentence out of you unless we're arguing."

He inhaled sharply, staring at you. "I don't know if you forgot, but I was locked in a prison for three and a half months."

Your shoulders deflated, your eyebrows creasing and lips pulling down into a frown. "Seriously? I express that I am feeling neglected, and your only response is that you've been in prison—"

"—Well, it kind of changed who I am!"

You fell silent for a few moments, trying to collect your thoughts before you threw them all in his face and actually ruined things between you two. 

"I just feel like you don't care anymore," you repeated, voice awfully soft compared to how hard your body was shaking in anxiety. 

He ran a hand through his hair, and he opened his mouth to speak with that same frustrated frown, so you cut him off. 

"And yes, I know you're dealing with everything that happened to you in prison. I only know what they told us, so I can't even imagine how much you're withholding. Because I know that's what you do. But that doesn't give you an excuse to treat me like I'm not important in your life anymore. I mean, If I'm not, then tell me. If you really don't care, or you've decided that you can't be in a relationship and process everything at the same time, then I'd like to know."

The silence is uncomfortable. And thick. And you're staring at him with eyes that burned with tears you weren't ready to shed yet. He's coming up with a response, so slowly you think maybe prison actually did break his brain. 

"I do care," he finally said, and you wondered if it took him three minutes to come up with that because he was controlling a lie. You pushed that thought out of your head. "But I also don't want you to wait for me to be better, if it's making you feel this way."

Oh.

"Okay," you manage to say, voice not above a whisper as you stared at him. 

"Okay," he echoed, and the tears you were trying so hard to keep in brimmed your waterline, blurring your vision. If he hadn't become one big blob in your vision because of them, you might've seen his eyes soften and his shoulders deflate. 

Maybe he was waiting for you to confront him about it all. So he could end things. Maybe he's been thinking about this for too long, and this was just the final push he needed. You'd like to hope it was a spur of the moment decision, and he wasn't banking on this relationship ending. 

"I'll stay at a friend's," you then murmured, wiping the tears from your eyes, sniffling pathetically. 

"No, this is—"

"—You deserve familiar walls," you cut him off. "I'm sure anything else would freak you out."

He fell silent, because you were right. But he didn't want to kick you out of your own home. He didn't want to kick you out of his life, a sickening revelation he was having all too late.

Maybe that was why, when you turned around to leave, he called your name. Pleadingly. So, you turned back, and he stared at you, and silence fell over you two again. 

"What?" you breathed out after a few too many minutes of quiet. 

"I don't know how to talk to you. Or anyone. Not—not just you."

"About what happened?"

"In general."

You stilled, confusion sweeping across your features, for the thousandth time tonight alone. "You don't have to talk to me, if you can't. Regularly, I mean. That's not... that's not what I'm asking of you. I just need you to communicate with me. I feel like you don't even have feelings for me anymore. That's where most of my issues lie."

"I do have feelings for you."

"It doesn't feel that way."

More silence. More thick, deafening silence that felt like you had submerged your head underwater. And you really just wanted to come to a final conclusion. If this was the end.

"Then is it just that you don't want to be with me anymore? If it is, please tell me," you said, voice pathetically desperate.

He stared at you some more. Silence accompanying him, like some (annoyingly) comforting best friend amidst this conversation. And you slowly nodded your head as what he wanted became clear to you, your heart stuttering uncomfortably in your chest. Your stomach flipping. 

"Indecision doesn't look good on you," you finally cut through the blanket of quiet. "I need a verbal answer, Spencer."

"I do want to be with you—"

"—Then fight, dammit!" you finally snapped, the tears you had managed to control coming back to you, a sob lodging in your throat. "I am sick of you saying you do feel this, and you don't feel that. Make a fucking decision. Please. I cannot keep up a fight for the both of us anymore. You're losing me here, Spencer."

"I'm scared!" he shouted, and you took a step back, his voice vibrating throughout the room. He waged an internal battle for a few moments at your recoil. "That. That right there is what I'm scared of. I am so scared of scaring you."

"You scare me more when you shut down. I will take your anger over your silence."

"I won't," he snapped, watching you flinch. Again. You wanted to stop flinching. 

"It proves to me that you're actually feeling things. Spencer, I feel like I've been living with a ghost."

"I can't control my anger anymore," he added your name with a voice crack, mirroring your heart.

You blink some more tears down your cheeks. "You don't have to. You are allowed to be angry."

"Not around you," he shook his head, his hands brushing curls out of his face. "What if I—I hurt you."

"What if you don't?"

It seemed he hadn't considered that possibility, because he fell silent, and averted his gaze to the ground. He shook his head after a beat. "I can't take that risk."

You stared at him for a moment longer, weighing up your options, before you sighed. "Fine. Don't." He said your name again. "No. If you're not willing to fight, then... then fine. Don't fight. But neither will I."

He didn't say anything as you took a step back from the room. And even as you stilled for a few seconds longer, achingly but silently begging him to ask you to stay, he didn't utter a word. Which was, really, all you needed in confirmation. 

And so you left.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[yanderes-galore]

I gots more, can you do Yuji (and/or Gojo) with a darling from the real world? Or like he’s self aware?

My favorite way to write self-aware show characters is to write an entity that acts just like them. Similar to an Analog Horror I've seen (Forgot the name but if you want it, I can hunt it down) So for this, that's kinda the plot I'm working with if that's okay. So like... a Creepypasta-like thing if that's fine.

So, the plot is similar to something I've done in the past for both: You buy a DVD of JJK... but something isn't quite right as you soon learn. No plot spoilers here for JJK. Purely an AU.

Feedback is appreciated as long as it's constructive! I could probably do this with other characters if I was given ideas. Both ideas start the same but begin to differ later.

Yandere Self-Aware! Yuji Itadori + Satoru Gojo

(Analog AU - An Experimental Name?)

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, "Self-Aware" yandere, Analog AU (?), Stalking, Overprotective behavior, Unrequited feelings, Delusional behavior, Kidnapping, Possessive behavior, Forced relationship.

Yuji Itadori

Yuji Itadori is your favorite character from Jujutsu Kaisen.

There's just something about his resolve and ability to find happiness despite his situation that makes you fond of him.

It's all harmless fun for you, everyone has a favorite character after all.

Although... unlike most... it appears you've been caught in something you weren't expecting.

The DVD you bought off online didn't have the best packaging... but DVDs that aren't official tend to have bootleg packaging.

You just couldn't afford a streaming service and wanted to binge the two seasons of JJK they have out.

It seemed harmless enough, who hasn't pirated or purchased a pirated DVD at some point without knowing.

Even when you watched the DVD, everything seemed the same.

You were completely unaware of something lurking deep within.

This entity, now given the name Yuji Itadori, was awoken and given life when you used the DVD.

It could sense your fondness for the character and took the likeness of him.

Everything from appearance, personality, and mannerisms was copied as the entity took a new life.

Eventually they felt they were the character and felt every bit of fondness you had for them.

That's how "Yuji Itadori" came into being.

It's when this transfer is complete that things start to alter.

It's like the DVD opens an alternate universe, one where the events of JJK are part of their very own world.

Yuji originally believed everything was real.

This was his life... until he felt your presence.

At first he's in denial, not liking the idea of being trapped somewhere.

But then he sees you.

You are someone he can't reach, someone beyond a screen he can only look at.

While you watch the events of JJK play out on your little DVD, Yuji watches you.

It's a bit ironic, until he grows strong enough and more aware, the show character watches you just as invested as you are.

Yuji can't help but fall into a delusional sense of love and care for you.

He can't help but be excited whenever he catches glimpses of you.

His obsession is vague, as he is just now learning about his love for you.

He feels he wants to protect you, yet expresses frustration when he can only watch you from a clear barrier.

You can pick up on his self-aware behavior, things like glances, waves, and times where he says your name when other characters aren't looking.

The change is slow for him, but quick for you.

His feelings and growth continues through the episodes, the time feeling like months or years for him but hours for you.

Half way through the show you notice Yuji's behavior.

You're frightened at first, but maybe a morbid curiosity fills you?

This begins with you two properly communicating.

Certain plot points are paused or lengthened all so Yuji can speak with you.

It's so strange... like you're actually speaking to a human being.

Yuji is always very affectionate when speaking with you.

Often calling you nicknames, asking questions, and providing comfort after long days.

You see him as your little digital companion, while Yuji sees you as a lot more than that.

He's the only one aware of you, the other characters seem more like puppets to Yuji so he can play a story for you.

He likes seeing you happy and does whatever he can to make you smile.

Darker behavior manifests later as Yuji begins to realize he... isn't a big part of your life.

Through the screen he can see you have friends, family, everything.

You're the biggest part of his world, but he's the smallest part of yours.

As this DVD has supernatural capabilities (clearly), perhaps Yuji would pull you into his world once he fears he can lose you.

The next time you get to watch JJK, Yuji greets you.

"Hey! I've been preparing a surprise for you..."

Curious, you go to ask what it is...

Only to pass out.

By the time you wake up, you're not in your world anymore.

You wake up in a dorm, clearly not your room.

As you wake up, you jump back when you see Yuji kneeling beside you.

"Great! It did work!" He chirps happily, eyes closed with a smile on his face.

You go to ask what happened, only for Yuji to hold your hands.

"I brought you to my world! You mean a lot to me... plus, here I can shape this world to anything you want."

Yuji pulls you closer, closer to the point you can see a red glint in his eyes.

"I love you... and I just want to make you happy." Yuji vows, the confession innocent despite the situation.

"We'll make this our own little world."

"I want to go home!" You cry, confusing Yuji.

"Why would you ever want to leave...?"

Yuji asks, pulling you close.

"You'll be so happy here..." Yuji murmurs, eyes giving off a dull red glow.

"You won't ever want to leave... you won't ever leave me again."

From that point on, you live in an artificial world.

You and Yuji are the only ones "real" here.

Now he's the most important thing in your life, just like you are to him.

Satoru Gojo

Satoru Gojo is your favorite character from Jujutsu Kaisen.

There's just something about his playful/cocky attitude and perhaps even his looks that makes you fond of him.

It's all harmless fun for you, everyone has a favorite character after all.

Although... unlike most... it appears you've been caught in something you weren't expecting.

The DVD you bought online didn't have the best packaging... but DVDs that aren't official tend to have bootleg packaging.

You just couldn't afford a streaming service and wanted to binge the two seasons of JJK they have out.

It seemed harmless enough, who hasn't pirated or purchased a pirated DVD at some point without knowing.

Even when you watched the DVD, everything seemed the same.

You were completely unaware of something lurking deep within.

This entity, now given the name Satoru Gojo, was awoken and given life when you used the DVD.

It could sense your fondness for the character and took the likeness of him.

Everything from appearance, personality, and mannerisms was copied as the entity took a new life.

Eventually they felt they were the character and felt every bit of fondness you had for them.

That's how "Satoru Gojo" came into being.

It's when this transfer is complete that things start to alter.

It's like the DVD opens an alternate universe, one where the events of JJK are part of their very own world.

Due to how Gojo is, he'll probably learn that his world isn't real faster than Yuji.

He'll learn that things aren't as they seem, that those around him are merely puppets for him to use.

At first he's a bit hurt... yet now he's curious.

He only gets more intrigued when he learns of your presence.

While you watch him through the screen, he watches you.

You always look so happy when he plays his part on screen, playing his role through the events of his world.

Gojo still plays along, even as he grows increasingly obsessive about you.

He just knows you two are different.

It only annoys him when he's kept from you by a clear barrier, looking at you through your TV or monitor as you watch him.

He's strong... but not strong enough to have you, it seems.

To him, it feels like his obsession has gone on for years.

For you? It feels like hours.

You're just happy to watch one of your favorite shows...

Completely unaware of your favorite character fantasizing about finally meeting you.

That is until Gojo decides enough is enough... and makes his presence known.

"Oi! Can you hear me?"

He makes contact with you by pausing events in the story and waving to the screen.

Maybe similar to the Yuji portion you're overcome with morbid curiosity more than fear.

Which leads to you feeding into Gojo's obsession by speaking with him.

Due to having his world under his control, Gojo's capable of pausing or slowing down events in the story to speak with you.

He alters things to entertain you and often speaks to you.

You end up spending more time speaking to him than watching the show normally.

You learn that Gojo is very playful with you.

He often waves, makes heart shapes with his hands, and winks at you.

He likes to say your name to mess with you and does his best to press himself closer to the screen so you can touch it.

It disturbs you that the screen is often... warm when he touches it.

Gojo's usually always playful with you until he begins to realize the truth.

He loves you, more than anything he loves you.

His little world would feel lonely without you.

His whole purpose is to entertain you, to make a good story for you and keep you company.

He lives for you.

Yet he notices you have others around you...

You have friends, family, perhaps even a lover.

He's only a little part of your life... and it upsets him greatly.

Gojo tries to hide his hurt from you as he watches you chat with others.

He wants nothing more than to have you all to himself in this little world of his...

When he grows stronger... he can.

It's ironic for Gojo to need to be "stronger".

In his world, he's the strongest.

Yet he takes time to grow more in order to have you.

He won't have to worry about your lover or anyone afterwards.

"I have something to show you~!"

His voice is in a purr when you go to speak with him again.

"Here's my gift... you know I just want to make you happy..."

You begin to feel woozy, slumping over.

"You know I just want to make you mine."

By the time you wake up, you're in a room you don't recognize.

Only for Gojo to show up with a grin.

"Yo!" He chirps, ignoring the fear in your eyes. "I did pretty good, right? You're in my world now... but I can change anything I want to make it the best for you."

He's so giddy about having you beside him.

In here, he doesn't have to worry about those close to you.

He has everything under control... and you in his arms.

"What's with the look? Come on, where's my hug?" He pouts, pulling you against him even if you struggle.

"You'll get used to it..." Gojo whispers, a kiss placed on your forehead.

"I exist to please you..." Gojo whispers, kissing your cheek.

"This is our world now... I'll never let you leave me now that I've got you."

[preppyacademy]

From a meaningless virtual life to the preppy boy I am now

Elliot's story

To convince you to come to the Preppy Academy, here's Elliot's personal testimonial. His life has changed radically thanks to our school's methods. The following are his words: 

Hello, my name is Elliot, I'm 20. I'm a student at the Preppy Academy. I'd like to thank M.Gilliard, our principal, who has asked me to write an account of my time here. 

Two years ago, I was still living with my father. I often dressed in sportswear; I loved Adidas clothes, so comfortable and easy to put on. Did I do any sport? No, not at all, but my mates dressed the same, so I followed suit. When I wasn't at school, I used to play video games all the time. I wore my clothes for days on end because I was too lazy to change. My bedroom was a real dump, with everything strewn all over the place. My diet consisted of eating chips and drinking sodas. 

My father was fed up with my bad behavior. He works in business, economics, something like that. My mother left us when I was a kid, and since then it's just been me and him. He'd tell me to “tidy my room”, “get dressed properly”. But I didn't give a damn, soon, I thought, I'll be able to leave soon, and I thought I'd be able to live with a friend in a flat-share for a bit of fun. 

There was a week when I made a decision that I had regretted at the time but that now makes me what I am. That week, it was at the beginning of my school year and I was playing a game that was too epic and I wanted to do it too much, so I made my dad think I was going to high school while I was pretending. Then, when he left for work, I'd come back and play on my P.S. console. But my stupidity caught up with me, and my father was contacted by the school and told of my repeated absences. It was a Thursday lunchtime, I remember, and he came home to find me quietly in bed. He came into my dirty room and said: 

" Elliot, that's enough! You're not going to school anymore, you're dressing like crap. Look at you, you've got holes in your clothes. You haven't washed or combed your hair in days. Things are going to change for you. A colleague at work told me about a boarding school that would be perfect for you. "

I was on my phone when he said this so I half-listened, as usual. He was clearly desperate about my behavior and had every reason to be. Now I understand. At the end of the afternoon, my father called me and reminded me that he had to take me to the dentist for an annual check-up. I'd completely forgotten, it wasn't something I was interested in remembering. I stayed in the same clothes and he took me to the dentist. I really didn't remember the appointment. Once there, my father accompanied me inside. A waiting room with other parents and their teenagers. There were guys from high school, who were also dressed in sweatpants and sweatshirts and sneakers. I wasn't the only one who dressed like that, which is why it seemed normal to do so. When it was my turn, the dentist called me in. I sat down in his dentist's chair. He asked me to lie down so he could check the inside of my mouth. He put some products in my mouth to relax it. And these products were starting to put me to sleep; he'd put in more than usual. 

I had fallen asleep on his armchair, I didn't know for how long. When I woke up, my hands were tied tightly to the chair. I tried to speak, but my mouth was still anesthetized. My father was talking to the dentist, and they were both looking at me. My father had collected my things, my bag and my phone. Looking around, I soon realized that I wasn't really at the dentist. The man posing as one approached me and said: 

"Elliot, your father, has informed us of your behavior at home and has decided to leave you with us for a while. Do you agree? "

I couldn't answer as my mouth was still anesthetized. 

" Since you're not answering my question, I imagine you're completely in agreement. If you don't say anything within a minute, we'll assume you agree."

I was trying to speak to refuse and scream for help, but only discreet moans came out. 

" Then we do have your agreement. "

My eyes began to tire again and I finally dozed off again.

I don't know what treatment he gave me, but it was like a dissociation. I saw myself outside my body like a ghost looking at my body. My father left with my things. The staff laid me properly on the bed and undressed me. I was completely naked at one point. They put a red ball in my mouth and covered my mouth with a gag that held with a tight strap behind it. I was as if unable to act, in the hands of my kidnappers. They dressed me in a white short-sleeved polo shirt, buttoned all the way up, tucked into khaki shorts with a brown belt, white knee-high socks and black loafers. They then cut my hair and styled it, neatly styled to the side and held with wax. I began to regain consciousness little by little, but I felt as if I were paralyzed in my own body, between the products that were still taking effect and the bonds that prevented me from fleeing. 

"Elliot, you're back with us. We've prepared you in a more respectable outfit than the garbage you used to wear. This preppy outfit suits you much better. Your hair looks much better like this. You probably have a lot of questions, but you're in good hands. I'm Doctor Greenwood, I'm here when sometimes you need a little push to get you into the Academy. I'll leave you here tonight and you'll make your official entrance tomorrow. "

I was stuck on this bed for several hours, and above me they'd set up a screen with a series of images and sounds that I had no choice but to watch. And no matter how tempted I was to close my eyes, a deep voice kept reading every word on the moving image. Eventually, I fell asleep to the rhythm of the video, which hypnotized me as it went along. 

“I want to be a preppy boy. Good preppy boys must obey, serve, submit, behave. Good boys comply. I want to be a good preppy boy” again and again and again...

This mantra was stuck in my head like music that never wants to come out. I still felt resistance, an urge to rebel and run away, but I was blocked and strangely began to feel pleasure at the idea of being a good preppy boy. 

When I woke up, four men in their thirties, all dressed in pastel shirts tucked into their pants, with bowties and loafers, took me by force. They took me by the arms and forced me to follow them. They put me in a van and tied me up. My gag was still in my mouth and I couldn't scream. I was at their mercy, with no power or control over the situation. I was their object. 

I was taken to a large, ivy-league type establishment, at the top of the main entrance is written “Preppy Academy”. I was led inside and up the stairs. I arrive in a very elegant office, with wood paneling and bookcases on every wall. The 4 men undress me.

I find myself in a preppy outfit: a white and blue striped OCBD shirt, pastel yellow shorts, red and blue suspenders, a dark blue and red striped tie tied around my neck, long white knee-high socks and dark loafers. Nothing to do with my outfits at home. I've been completely transformed into a preppy boy. I'm left with my hands tied and my mouth gagged in this office. I don't know what to do, I'm a slave to this establishment. My outfit isn't as comfortable as the one at home, I can feel the fabric of my shirt on my torso compressing me, the suspenders holding my shorts are like two ropes binding my outfit to my body, the pulled-up socks are so humiliating, I feel like a boy. But as I think I'm disgusted by my outfit, I realize that it actually turns me on. I like to think I have to be dressed like this to feel good. A few minutes later, a man in his fifties walks in. He's dressed in a nice three-piece suit, with a red tie. He looks at me deeply: 

"Hello Elliot! Welcome to the Preppy Academy. Your father told me you weren't behaving properly at home. He contacted us and paid for your enrollment. Whether you like it or not, you're staying here. You'll wake up here and sleep here. Your education needs to be reviewed. You must learn to be a good preppy boy for your superiors. I am M.Gilliard, the principal of this prestigious establishment. I am the Master of all the students here. You owe me obedience, submission, service and respect. "

These words enchanted me, and even though I wanted to leave, I could only nod in agreement. 

"To complete your admission among us, I must collect something. "

The 4 young men from earlier return and make me sit down on the chair, holding me tight. Mr. Gilliard unzips my pants and pulls out my penis. I start moaning, not agreeing with what's happening. Mr.Gilliard puts a sort of cage on my penis, forcing it to stay very small and any erection would hurt. 

" It's called a chastity cage. I'm the only one who keeps the keys. Every good boy here is caged. Your personal pleasure doesn't matter; you're here to obey and learn to serve. Your only satisfaction at the end of the day is to please men superior to you. "

“I want to be a preppy boy. Good preppy boys must obey, serve, submit, behave. Good boys comply. I want to be a good preppy boy”. This phrase made more and more sense. I was introduced to the establishment, the rules to follow and taken to a room I had to share, with a wardrobe full of preppy clothes, nothing I'd had before. 

I've been here for two years now and I don't want to leave. I like to serve my Master when he asks for it. I like being a good preppy boy. Obedient and helpful. I don't miss my old life anymore. I encourage all boys and men to come to the Preppy Academy. You'll love it! 

[s4wdvator]

a friend of a friend — sam winchester

SUMMARY: Sam went to a Halloween party because of his best friend, and when he found himself bored and wanting to leave, his friend finally decided to introduce him a friend.

PAIRING: Stanford!Sam Winchester x fem!reader

WORDS COUNT: 2.2K

WARNINGS: smut, y/n used two times *i guess*, gentle sam, oral sex (f! receiving), p in v, kisses, sam playing breasts, sam embarrassed, sassy reader lmaojejejej

a/n: I literally think I nailed it this time HHEHEJE, I literally loved writing this. I love Stanford! Sam. I think I should write something with him lol. Have a good read!!

sam winchester | masterlist | more abt me!

English is not my first language, I apologize if there is any mistake <3 (maybe I interchange 'he' and 'she' too much. I'm so sorry)

This fic will have sexual content. MDNI

Sam was not a party guy, especially those of Halloween - which reminded him of his reality- He didn't have many friends in his childhood or adolescence, he never managed to stay long enough in a school to have real friends or even a girl. But then when he managed to cut ties with his father and won a scholarship at Stanford University, he felt free for the first time.

In just a few days at the University, a blonde girl named Jessica soon befriended Sam, and with this new friendship with Jess, he became invited to events, outings and parties of Jessica's most popular friends.

Now, Sam is stuck at a Halloween party in some dorm. He has a plastic cup with any drink he found and drank, he was really already under the influence of alcohol but not necessarily drunk. He looked around the old couch he was sitting on, where just staring at the place he was in, made him sigh, because all he wanted was to be in his dorm, quiet and just studying, nothing very difficult to have, if Jessica hadn't begged.

It had been almost half an hour since he was there, doing nothing, just trying to finish the drink from his glass. When he really couldn't finish, he just left it next to a fainted guy on the couch. He got up, looking for Jessica, just to say goodbye to his friend, he was determined to leave there. As he walked, he murmured several "I'm sorry" to the lowest people he ended up bumping into. When he finally found Jess, she was in the kitchen talking to some girl who was with her back to him, where he just saw the back costume, which was from Alice in Wonderland.

"Sam!" Jess said excitedly as she faced her friend.

"Hey..." Sam said in a simple and slightly embarrassed way for being close to a presence he doesn't know.

"I'm glad you're here," Jessica said, throwing the typical mischievous look and smiling, "Well, this one is y/n!" The blonde said smiling and excited, she was definitely drunk.

Jess had definitely already talked about this friend of hers, y/n, like, Jessica had been trying to get this girl for him for almost a month.

"Well, I'll let you talk. I'm going to go after a refill," Jess said getting up and smiling at the two friends and soon leaving the kitchen.

"Hey...I'm Sam. Jess she had already said...a lot about you" He said putting his hands on the back of his neck and scratching, in a shame.

You can't help but smile, he was definitely cute and clearly under this outfit—that you couldn't identify what his fantasy was—he had a muscular chest and trunk, maybe nothing really exaggerated. It was crazy how, you hadn't even spoken to him properly and you already imagined him shirtless.

"Well... Hi Sam" You said excitedly, while smiling. You didn't know if it was already alcohol taking over your mind or you were just really happy.

You and Sam were talking for long minutes, you found out that his major here at Stanford was right, he is 21 years old, he has one more brother, Dean, 25 years old, his mother died in a kind of fire or something, and he and his father fought. His life was chaos, definitely. But apparently he loved you and loved the fact that you were studying psychology here at Stanford, since he didn't say a word to talk about. Everything he said, he found a way to return to the subject due to the fact that you are a future psychologist. He also praised you too much, this guy is a real gentleman.

With a few more minutes of conversation, the party started to get music and more colorful led's which caused you to no longer be able to talk so clearly when listening to each other.

"Do you want to go to my dorm?" You finally had the courage to ask him, of course, with a slight hesitation and fear of what the answer would be and if it would be some kind of rejection.

"Of course" He smiled more sympathetically at you.

When you had already gone to your dorm, you started talking to him normally, and clearly he listened to you attentively but couldn't stop paying attention to your lips, how they moved, how you sometimes licked him or bit him like a kind of craze of yours, or how your sweet voice came out of your throat.

"Do you want to sit down?" You asked him, pointing to his bed, while you took off your black high-heeled boot and sat on your bed.

"Yeah...I mean, of course," he said more embarrassedly, causing slight laughter coming from you and soon he sat next to her, but he didn't expect to be so close to the points of her thighs that were involved in her black trawler, touching his long legs.

"So, what kind of music do you like? I mean, it's 2004, you have to have something good about music" You joked while looking into his eyes, which you thought were brown but in fact, surprisingly, they were green.

"Well... I hear these classic things more. Metallic, Led Zeppelin, AC/DC..." He began to say, and that made you make a surprise face and face him.

"Really? No Usher? Justin Timberlake? I don't know" She laughed, clearly surprised that he just listened to classic rock.

"Whet? No, I mean, don't get me wrong, they're great. But I grew up listening to this kind of music and...well, doing things with my father and I didn't have much time to get to know pop culture, jazz and etc.," he said smiling, while staring at you in an enchanted way.

"Get it. But it's okay, I'll show you" You smiled staring at him, and he let out a loose laugh.

"You're funny" He smiled and stared at you for a few seconds, analyzing her blurred Alice's makeup. The way your hair was more or less messy. The way his lips called him and seemed more kissable than before. And before he could really think about what to say to her, he kissed her, not knowing if he would receive a slap in the face, a push or a curse coming from him. Surprisingly, you responded to the kiss more in the mood than him, while his hands went to his face, theirs were already holding his waist firmly, which seemed nothing compared to his big hands.

He carefully guided you to his lap, while the kiss was getting longer and longer, you could feel his hands touching every inch of you, now, with the kiss slightly intensifying, his hands were now caressing his thighs, sometimes some of his fingers entering inside the holes of her black line trawler, which honestly, for him is quite sexy.

His hands traveled to the buttons of the dress, which were located on his back, while he worked on unbuttoning his blue and white Alice dress. His hands were taking off his dark blue denim jacket.

She let out a slight moan when his hands slid to her thighs and then entered inside her dress, and when she touched her waist to be able to take off her dress. And once your dress came out of your body, and you were only in your bra and panties. He let out a sigh, admiring, before holding you firmly by the hips and kissing your neck next to the collarbone and he stared down, seeing the contour of your breasts and let out a sigh and smiled, you are beautiful from his point of view.

He carefully took you and left it underneath, he kept kissing your body and carefully, their hands went to the back of your bra and unbuttoned the buttons of the bra. When the bra got loose on his shoulders, he took it off and stared at his breasts—which seemed too perfect from his point of view—and then, he began to kiss his left breast while his big hands circled the shape of his right breast, he sucked his nipple and you let out a slight moan and put your hands on his hair, when he finished the service and attention to his breasts, he began to kiss his stomach until he reached his panties, he stared at you, as if he had asked for a kind of permission and you just nodded your head, already desperate for the The idea of his touch in your intimate area.

He carefully left a kiss against his panties and hit his clitoris right—which was already swollen with so much desire, along with how soaked you were—he put his hands on the straps of his panties and pulled down and smiled when he saw your naked pussy, just for him.

He sighed against his intimacy, causing a slight pleasure in his body.

Sam gently opened your legs better and then began to kiss his thighs, slow and wet kisses, until he reached his pussy. He started with kisses on the clitoris before moving forward and using his tongue two more times and then starting to work more with his tongue at his entrance, but his pointed and beautiful nose kept pressing his clitoris with each advance with his tongue at his entrance. Causing moans in the dorm.

While he did it slowly, trying to make it last as long as possible. His hands were on his hair, pulling, picking up, caressing, while his hips arched against his mouth.

When he started to accelerate more with his tongue, you moaned feeling that maybe you couldn't take that much.

"Sam..." You tried to warn that it wouldn't last that long.

He smiled, understanding the message of despair in his speech and accelerated more, when you saw it, you had come into his mouth, and he was eating his pussy for a few more 30 minutes and finally, took off his shirt and concentrated on his lips, while his hands caressed his chest—which was exactly as you imagined, muscular but hot and not at all exaggerated—his hands began to unbutton his pants and then take off and soon get into boxers.

You pulled him closer, and felt how big he really was, you couldn't tell if it scared you or excited you, maybe both.

So, he got rid of his boxers, and you were seeing his cock for the first time, it was thick, big and it was very hard, which made you unintentionally but genuinely smile.

You tried to touch, giving the intention that you also wanted to do oral, but he denied it, saying:

"I'm a gentleman. What kind of guy would I be having a blowjob on the first night with you? Sorry princess, next time" He smiled at you, making you laugh that he was such a gentleman.

"Fine" You smiled.

Then, the head of his cock pressed against his clitoris and rubbed lightly.

"Sam..." You let out a weak moan for the provocation coming from him.

He laughed, murmuring a 'sorry' before his cock rubbed his pussy and then the head of his cock began to enter his entrance.

'Oh my God' you thought.

So, he tried to advance another part of his big father and then his hands squeezing his broad shoulders while he looked at you with concern.

"M'Okay...it's just bigger than I expected" She laughed and so did he and sighed relieved.

When he began to move slowly and carefully, the entire length of his penis entered you and you could no longer hold the moans. He was being so careful, and loving with you that he surprised you.

While he stocked up strong but gently, despite reaching the cervix of her uterus, it is being one of the most pleasurable experiences of his life. His hands held his hips, to get more momentum. His others were now on his back, scratching, but nothing to the point of hurting him on purpose.

You smiled when you were getting closer and closer to reaching your climax. So, as if it were a way to try to get there faster, his hands that were on his back went to his ass, trying to force him to go deeper and he laughed.

"Calm down sassy girl" He whispered and smiled at her.

You let out a laugh, before you felt the climax approaching and he smiled when her walls began to squeeze his cock, understanding that she was very close.

"You can let go, babe" She whispered in her ear and kissed her jaw. The nickname caused chills all over your body and without thinking, you came surprisingly next to him. You let out a moan and sighed.

"God..." You whispered and he laid his face on your neck, still with his cock inside you "You better not have made me pregnant" she whispered jokingly, and he laughed, realizing that they had had had unprotected sex, which would be worrying, if you did not take care of yourself and were taking contraceptives.

"It's okay, I hope" he smiled and kissed you again, before taking his penis out of you and lying next to you and hugging you and you hugging him back as you felt him cover him and you with the blanket of your bed. And so, you ended up sleeping, feeling Sam caress your hair.

[amaranthineghost]

ahh!! i think i speak on behalf of a lot of people when i say i need a part two, because that was so amazing and so beautifully written 🫶🏻🫶🏻

| I CAN'T NOT HAVE YOU, I'LL TRAVEL THE SOLAR SYSTEM TO MEND OUR STARS ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairings: lando x reader

ꕥ parts: 1

ꕥ tagging: @gulphulp

ꕥ summary: they hadn't seen each other in months after their breakup, which left them in more misery than they thought. because now they'll do anything to make it work.

ꕥ authors note: I've been planning this in my head while writing the first part to this and i really like how this came out! going to work on christmas imagines and also finish up a request that I've been meaning to write!

ꕥ warnings: smut (at the end if you don't want to read that part), heavy angst (wanted to break some hearts), mentions of alcohol abuse and heavy drinking, mentions of eating struggles. not proofread the end.

IT'D BEEN MONTHS. months since he last abandoned her in their old apartment. since he drove off in his mclaren, punched the rearview mirror because he couldn't take it. to this day, he regretted it with every fiber of his being. he tried to convince himself for days on end, it was for the better. but was it really?

he was struggling. he couldn't sleep properly, staring at the dark ceiling, feeling beside him in the bed for another warm body, breaking his heart more every time he reminded himself that she wasn't here. it was cold.

it was cold despite the blistering summer heat of monaco, windows open to let in the heat. max swore at him every time because despite being rich, he was letting out cool air. but lando couldn't stand the cold. without her, his heart was frigid.

it worsened as the months grew colder and races passed him by. he was peforming fine, for now, but he'd reach his limit soon enough.

he hated when the air got bitterly frozen because this year, he wouldn't have her. he wouldn't have the heat that radiated off her to keep him warm.

he'd waste himself away with alcohol to forget the memory of leaving her. it turned his stomach in knots everytime to think of her watching him leave because they didn't know what to do to fix them. he wish he knew, he should've.

more often than not, he'd spent his nights on bathroom floors of the club, puking his guts out into the toilet, or sitting on the kitchen floor belonging his temporary roommate, max fewtrell. he sat against the tiled floor and wooden cabinets with a half-emptied bottle in his hands, tears on his face.

he'd sit there for hours, wasting away with every sip burning at his throat. he hated alcohol, but it was the only way to cope because he didn't want to remember any moment without her.

when he was nearly passed out on the floor, max would drag him up by his arms, forcing more than a few glasses of water down his throat. he'd grown familiar with his friend's new sulking.

max threw him on the guest room bed he didn't bother to make because he was miserable. he made it everyone's problem then. he'd leave his passed out friend a concoction of medicines to help with the hangover, he'd gotten used to this routine for the past couple of months.

when lando would stumble his way down the stairs, hands wrapped in his curls with a splitting pain through his head and a grimace on his face, all max would comment is "well, aren't you a pitiful sod."

lando rolled his eyes, groaning at the pain as he did so, sitting on a chair at the table across from his best friend, cringing at the resemblance of dinners with his girl—who wasn't even his anymore.

"jesus, mate, maybe you do need an intervention." he'd push his bowl of oatmeal towards lando, watching the expression on his face closely.

"I'm fine."

"clearly not," max scoffed, "mate, it's great havin' you here, but y'need to sober up."

"I will."

"you've said that last month, and the month before that, and the month before that." he shook his head, "I don't even get why you guys broke up."

lando groaned, rubbing his fingertips to his temple and chugging the water before he spoke, "it wasn't working out, 'ts for the best."

"for the best? are you kidding me?" he scoffed his friend's words, he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

to max, breaking up was for the worst. he could tell lando was in misery, and he'd guess she was the same, maybe worse. maybe he didn't know much, but he knew enough to know that they were meant for each other.

"I'm not kidding," he muttered, pushing the oatmeal around the bowl, his spoon clinking against the sides, "besides, we tried to fix it, 'n it didn't work."

he paused, "fix it 'ow?"

lando rolled his eyes, feeling the consequences of his actions through his head, mumbling under his breath, "we went out to eat."

"you're jokin' me?" he leaned forward, a look of disbelief and disappointment on his face, "you went out to eat? how's that goin' to solve anything?"

lando shrugged again, refusing to look max in the eye as he pushed the mush around in his bowl, picking out the bits of fruit throughout.

"you're a real geezer, y'know that?" he sighed deeply, leaning back into the stool as he sat looking at his idiotic friend, "it was a perfectly salvageable relationship, mate, and you just threw it away." he shook his head, his arms crossed against his chest as he leaned his head on one hand.

"you gonn' call me a muppet next?" he aggressively bit into the small strawberry.

"might as well because you're acting like one. now why did you break up with her?"

"she broke up with me." he quietly corrected him, though it didn't seem to shed light on the fact that they didn't try as much as they thought they did.

"then fight for your relationship!" max exclaimed, throwing his hands up in response, "did you ever talk about what was wrong?"

"we didn' have time to," lando admitted, "and we didn't know what to do." he pushed aside the bowl, having barely touched the food residing in it. it's gone cold now, just like him.

"make the time!" he suggested, jabbing his finger into the counter to make a point, "when was the last time you were alone together?"

"when we had dinner together."

max groaned, shoving his face into his hands, rubbing his closed eyes on his palms. lando was starting to give him a headache, "when was the last time you were alone together, no people, no cameras, no fans, just you and her doing something?"

"i 'ont know."

"jesus, man." his voice muffled into his skin as his face remained in his palms because of the idiocracy of his friend.

"well, what do you suggest i do then, max?" lando's tone got seemingly more aggressive and annoyed, the volume of his voice raising slightly.

"actually spend time with her! take her on holiday!" he suggested, matching energies.

"mate, I can't just ask her after months of not speakin'," lando's stool pushed against the floor as he stood up, he was agrivated. he harshly grabbed the bowl with the cold food and shoved it in the sink.

max turned in his seat, "right, so just give up and go back to drinkin' then?"

lando ignored the comment, it infuriated him because max was right. if he didn't find the solution to his problem, he probably would go back to getting blackout drunk. all in hopes that'd help forget his misery

he leaned against the sink with his arms, his head hung between his inner biceps with his eyes closed, taking deep breaths before asking, "how should I ask her then?"

"you truly are a muppet."

"christ, just help m'out here!" lando pleaded because he couldn't take it anymore. he'd been losing himself to however many bottles of alcohol that'd stacked in the bin and the amount of over-the-counter drugs he'd force down his burned throat. all to forget what seemed like an impossible fix, but all he needed was another person. just because they didn't know what to do doesn't mean others wouldn't.

and of course max would help. he just had to give lando a hard time for screwing up so badly because he would've never expected him to show up at his front door midday, stumbling drunk and muttering slurred phrases about her.

his first thought when he saw his disoriented friend was to wonder if something had happened, the obvious answer being, obviously. because lando barely drank. max knew how much he couldn't stand the taste and chasing burn so it wasn't often you'd catch him drunk, much less to this extent.

he knew it had to involve his girlfriend by the here-and-there words he could decipher from the rest, but he couldn't expect to get the full story from the utter nonsense his friend spewed.

it wasn't till morning max discovered the extent of lando's stupidity.

" 'ts your relationship," max sighed, "and you realize she might not be so accepting to see you."

it hurt to think about. he didn't know what was worse, for her to be in such misery like himself or for her to not want him back. his stomach tied itself in knots to even think about, but he was the one who left her in the first place.

"yeah, I know."

he was lost without her. everything seemed so meaningless without her by his side, though she hadn't been for months, even when they were together. but the idea of her presence somewhere in his vicinity was all he needed.

she was like a drug he tried so hard to quit because it seemed to be getting him no where. but he was addicted. all he thought about when he wasn't drunk was her. every single dollar wasted on booze was drank to forget her. the lack of her in his life.

so when he showed up at her doorstep, it was more than just a shock. she'd opened the door, the last thing she expected was to see him, standing with an expression that seemingly matched hers. the smell of booze wafting from his clothes and the bittersweet smell of his cologne she had long forgotten about. smelling it again brought back everything she tried to learn to forget about him.

she wanted to be mad, to push and kick him away, but she'd been waiting for months for him to reappear into her life. for him to come back to her, the anticipation built in her body every time the door bell echoed off the walls, or knocks that pounded against the door.

but instead she slammed the door almost immediately, and he didn't blame her. how could he when he'd been the one to leave. because on the other side of that door, her heart was pounding.

she'd been wanting to see him for so long, so badly wanted him back in her life, but what if they made the same mistakes? she couldn't take losing him a second time because she'd already lost most of herself when he drove away the first time.

because she'd watched her future slip through her fingertips and there wasn't anything she knew that would make her catch it.

she knew she was to blame for breaking them up. it was for the best, she told her guilty conscience, but it didn't change the heart-wrenching want to have him back.

she'd spent months in the cocoon she made of their cold bed, ultimately settling on his side to feel closer to him. but what was the point? he hadn't slept in that bed in months, the sheets that reeked of him faded, and even more so when he left her, for at the time she thought, forever.

"love, please," he pleaded against the door, his forehead against the cold metal, "I screwed up, but please, let me fix this, us."

she hesitated. she knew she was the type to let people who hurt her back into her life so easily, as if nothing happened, but she was the one who forced him out. she knew that.

so when the door creaked open, he pushed himself away from the door as fast as lightning. her doe eyes peaking around, staring at his chest before they found their way to his face. he'd changed. he looked tired, unkept. she'd be lying if she said she looked the same as she did months ago because she honestly looked worse than him.

because being apart brought out their worst qualities in themselves that they'd helped the other through, but it resurfaced.

when he'd gotten a good look at her, he realized she definitely wasn't the same girl she was months ago. he'd notice the dark circles under her eyes, half-lidded and puffy, begging for sleep. the oversized hoodie he left her, though surprisingly clean, was well-worn by her. through the baggy cloth, he could tell her physique was slimmer, he felt nauseous.

she couldn't stand the silence between them even when they lived the last months of their relationship filled with it. they were both hurting and they both knew it, but they'd assume the other would be the one to patch it up. that's where they messed up, they seem to do it a lot.

"so why now are you here?" she'd cut through the silence with a butter knife, sawing back and forth as she stumbled where she stood. she struggled to keep her balance, lack of energy will do that to you.

"I realized how much of an idiot I was," he stepped closer, bringing his hand to hers, pressing her fingers between his. he trailed the pads of his fingertips down her hand and to her wrist. he'd latch on, caressing the soft skin, he'd remember the feeling.

"but I was the one who broke you with you."

he didn't mean it like that, to insinuate that she was the idiot for breaking them up because in no way did he blame her. he put the blame all on him for not fighting for them.

" 'nd I was the one who left."

she stared up at him, her big eyes doing things to him, he shouldn't feel it in a moment like this, but he did. he just wanted her back, to feel her lips on his, her smooth skin under his soft but callused hands.

her lips parted when she'd realize the feeling of warmth against her face, his hand running along her jaw to her chin. though she was already looking up at him, he pushed her head up further, but so softly.

his voice was raspy and deep, pleading, "please, darlin'." she couldn't say no even if the voice inside her head and the feeling in her heart told her to.

"just don't leave again."

he could never, not after the misery he'd been through without her, blackout nights to forget everything that had led up to their break up. he couldn't imagine the anguish he put her through.

and at those words, he couldn't hold back anymore, his lips colliding with hers so desperately, like he needed her to survive. he kind of did. he tasted faintly of alcohol and fruit, she tasted like mint. her lips moved softly against his passionate kiss because he was acting like she was his oxygen, his water, his everything because she was.

his hand tangled in her hair, the sounds of their breaths between their lips, the heavy heat that surrounded the air as they separated.

"let's go somewhere," he'd suggest, his chest rising and falling more noticeably now.

her lips became a swollen pink as she looked up at him, dazed as her eyes flickered between his green eyes, "where?"

he shook his head, smiling. god, she missed that smile. he spoke so softly now, "anywhere, you pick. it'll jus' be us."

money didn't matter to him. if she wanted to travel to the moon and back, he'd make it happen because he wanted to make things right. he wanted to show her he was all in now because he would never take another step out ever again.

so they'd travel across the world. he'd rent out hotels, restaurants, amusement parks, anything she'd want. like max said, he wanted this between the two of them. no cameras, no fans, no public. just them enjoying their time together and alone at the most beautiful places she could think of.

she'd end up on an island with him, the only other people being the employees of the resorts he'd rent out. he did everything with her.

they went on yachts around the crystal waters and coral reefs surrounding the beaches that they'd later lay and tan on. they'd talk as they bathed in the sunlight. snorkeling while holding hands and pointing out various species that inhabited the waters.

candle-lit dinners sitting across from each other, though their hands never left each other. they'd been offered fancy wines, lando ultimately opting out. she understood. they tried the exotic foods and other virgin drinks the resort had to offer.

they had long runs along the beach, heavy makeout sessions on stranded towels where they couldn't take their hands off the other, deciding to take the trip back to their hut over the waters.

when they'd make it back, he wasted no time because he missed her, the feeling of her around him, the taste of her.

as soon as the hut door slammed shut, his veined hand would be pressured on her neck, pushing at the skin under his fingertips to pull her into his lips. he was desperate, she knew that.

his lips were harshly against hers, she could feel the vibrations of his groans against her flesh, feeling his working hands across her chest, having left her neck temporarily to undo her tied bikini top. it was discarded onto the wooden floors with no further regard. they'd separate, foreheads pushed together and their noses clashing as their breaths mixed in the middle.

his head dipped below her jaw, biting at the skin of her neck. whimpers left her lips and she felt his smirk on her skin while she grasped at his curls. he slowly pushed their bodies towards the open laid bed behind her, her calf's meeting the mattress. he tugged at the elastic of her beach shorts, though deciding to take his time, which made it all the more agonizing for her, she needed him.

his lips trailed her body, leaving trails of his saliva and marks where he nipped at her skin, from her neck down to her chest. he groped her tits, earning a low groan from her as his tongue swirled her areola. she tugged his hair, his curls between each of her fingers as she bit back the sounds that forced through her throat. he was starved of her, which only turned her on more. she felt the heat between her thighs.

he'd kneel on his knees in front of her as he'd continue to leave a string of dark hickeys down her skin as he'd continue to her stomach, and just above her panty line, pulling the elastic of her shorts down. she'd almost just rip them off because she couldn't take how slow he'd move compared to when they first ended up in this situation.

his finger wrapped around the band, slowly pulling the material over the curves of her body, but he'd left her panties, which infuriated her. he did it all while looking straight up into her eyes, the glint in his eyes filled of lust and mischief. he'd lift her leg with his hand wrapped around the back of her knee, helping her kick off the clothing.

he'd kiss the skin just above the side of her knee, his lips glued to her skin as they traveled higher up her thighs, as well as his hands, sliding under the side of her panties. his nose brushed against the cloth of her cunt, ghostly stimulating her clit. it provoked a reaction out of her as she whined, and he'd continue to kiss along the line of her undergarment.

he may have started off desperate, but now he was taking his sweet time to take care of her. she wanted to badly for him to just hurry it along, wanting to feel him, but he'd rather enjoy the moment he had with her, like it was his last.

he pushed aside the cloth barrier, licking his lips as he eyed the wet patch caused by him, his warm breath panned across her cunt and she pleaded, "lan, please." god, he loved to hear her beg, it was music to his ears, but her moans were a symphony.

his two fingers slowly parted her folds, feeling her pulse under him as she moaned against the contact, he 'tsk'd at her reaction, "so wet for me, darling." his voice was raspy, deep and she cursed under her breath as she watched him lick her off his fingers.

the taste of her brought him back, he'd savor it because he hadn't before, not when he didn't realize it could've been the last. she was sweet, her skin smelling of vanilla as his nose brushed against her.

he'd had enough teasing for now, and gently he'd pull down her panties. she'd be fully exposed, but he was still dressed, his clothes feeling tighter around his body, specifically his swim shorts.

he didn't care. he'd thrown one of her legs over his shoulder as he flattened his tongue across her, feeling the tremble in her standing leg. he'd bury his lips in her cunt, vigorously tasting her like he hadnt eaten in weeks. his tongue lapped at her heat and she let out strings of curses interrupted by moans as she'd tug him closer to her by his hair.

vibrations of his groans stimulated her clit as he softly nipped at the sensitive flesh. he'd lapped at her cunt for not long before it became overwhelming, her moans growing high and squeaked as her legs nearly buckled.

he kept going, looking up at her with massively dilated eyes, half-lidded and seductive. her jaw went slack as she stared into his eyes, she felt the crescendo of her high and she'd nearly scream out his name as she came on his tongue. he'd lick up any remaining juice of hers.

his tongue left one long trail over her cunt, pressuring on her sensitive before pulling away, a trail of saliva connecting to his mouth and her slick glistened on his lips and chins. she panted heavily, he watched the rise and fall of her chest, felt the shaking of her knees as they nearly gave out under her.

he'd smile up at her, his goofy grin greeted her after her hazed high calmed. she'd roll her eyes at his light-heartedness after she'd just came on his tongue.

but it was moments like those that'd bring back the spark of youth and naivety to their relationship. because it was what they'd needed all along. all they needed was each other.

[navillee]

HIII i really love your writing and i really want to request you this ^^ seeing your recent post about dawnbreaker zayne made me think that...i would love to see some dawnbreaker zayne and mc angst from you 🫣

Since English isn't my first language, I'm delighted to read that. Dawnbraker Zayne angst here we go!

I miss her. That was Zayne's conclusion as he walked by the empty streets, where no soul could be seem. How can he miss someone he has never met before? The old and almost destroyed Linkon tourist's guide kept on his hands as he wandered on a ghost city, by the time forgotten, hoping he could savor glimpses of someone who wasn't there anymore. To hunt memories, so he can repeat to himself that, at least, in another life, he was happy;

The dreams started when he was a way younger. He thought it was just his brain's way to cope with his burden, but when the same pattern repeated itself over and over again throughout the years, Zayne knew there couldn't exist such coincidence. So he became obsessed.

He searched on every data about his other self. How life was before, when the pre stage wanderers weren't such a treat to society as now. The hospital, the hunter's association, the establishments he used to visit, and most importantly of all: you;

He thought he wasn't envious of his doctor version at first. Dawnbraker was able to deal with the lack of family since he never had one or even friends and a healthy life structure in general. But you. Oh, you. The girl in the dreams with the bright personality and warm tone of voice. Dawnbraker felt envious for the first time when that voice called his name. He knew it wasn't his name, and it hurt;

He bought your favorite candies and put them at his half empty apartment. He even bought flowers in an illusionary attempt to bring you closer, in hopes you would show up. But you didn't exist in his world. It comforted him to do it, though. It was his ritual before he went to sleep. If he kept you alive in his mind during the day, you would grace him in his dreams;

It was so fucking unfair. The way he kept a diary of his dreams at the bed table besides his bed to engrave every detail of you was fucking unfair;

He even did portraits of you — the drawing ability he discovered his doctor version also had — because he got terrified, thinking that all of sudden the dreams could come to an permanently end, and he would never be able to see you again;

From that desperation came the avaricious felling of rights upon his other self. He wanted as much time with you as he could get. Dawnbraker's dreams had become his drug;

It was like day and night had switched positions. Dawnbraker Zayne was performing during the day, surviving every second of it. He started to kill the humans before they could turn into wanderers like they were just numbers. It wasn't real after all. No, it was just a bad nightmare that he would wake up from, in Linkon, embraced in your loving arms and sweet voice. He rejected his life, believing that was his right to possess Doctor Zayne's one;

He needed his fix. He needed desperately every night. When he didn't get it, he became reckless, killing to vent his anger, killing in revenge at the universe for giving him this miserable existence. He killed almost for joy;

When two weeks passed by without any dreams, he went a step further into his addiction. One pill. Just one to make dawnbraker Zayne sleep properly and get to his other self. He swallowed it, taking two sips of water. His head hurted, and his hands trambled. But it was functional. Dawnbraker fell into a deep slumber;

It worked amazingly. The pill helped to keep his staying with you more vivid. Even though he couldn't feel physically what Zayne felt, he could see your face clearly now. It wasn't a blury dream. You were so perfect, every detail, walking on the rain together, the sound of the droplets of rain hitting the umbrella mixing with your laugh. Zayne wanted to cry. Would you notice his tears in the rain? You both were soaked, you and him apparently stopped by the convenience store to buy an umbrella;

You were holding some shopping bags and a bouquet of flowers, the same flower he has bought back in his world. He felt glad you received them in this universe. Dawnbraker felt guilty. Has Doctor Zayne noticed the flowers on the counter while he stayed in his world?

After that wonderful dream, Dawnbreaker faced his fall. It started with one pill that turned into two in only a spare of weeks, then three. He killed half human beings, then he drugged himself to the life he could save those people. To where he has a perfect life, when he was looked to as a person, not a feared shadow living in the corner;

He remembered to left hints on his apartment to the other Zayne from that night on. Flowers, movie tickets from the movies released back then, some not too revealing notes... some revealing ones;

One day, he arrived at his apartment with an injury on his arm. He had seen so much blood that day, spilled so much blood. His blood and innocent's too. Dawnbraker felt an excruciating pain. He felt totally abandoned in the universe;

In order to forget the pain consuming him, he swallowed all the remaining pills left on the bottle. He didn't have much time, so he send a message to the only number he had registered on his phone since that little boy accident, and also placed one item on his bedside table as he always did, so his other self would capture what he wanted Zayne to do, and he slept;

Dawnbraker found himself in the corridor to your apartment, his heart pounding on his chest like he wanted desperately to live. He stumbled at the open door's frame, rushing into your living room, finding you there, safe and sound, his pretty girl, as always. Dawnbraker wanted to cry again, and this time, he let himself;

"Zayne? What happened? Is everything okay?" You came rushing to him, and this time, he couldn't hide the surprise. On this dream, he was able to feel your touch;

He crumbled on his own weight, falling on his knees in front of you, his eyes sparkly with crystal clear tears washing over his face, pupils stagnated on you. As you brushed his tears off, he placed both his hands on top of yours, nuzzling his face against your warmth, felling you for the first time;

"Hard day at work?" You asked, and he sobbed, hands trembling as he tried to stop the tears. So you hugged him. With any word needed, you just stayed with him, the man's big frame hidden in your neck crook, warm tears running down your skin as you keep a tender scratch on his hair's scalp;

"S'okay Zayne, I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you." She coped his face with both hands, touching both foreheads together, and kept caressing her thumbs on his face. "I love you. And there's nothing in this universe able to change that."

Doctor Zayne woke up at the infamous, almost empty apartment, almost screaming in pain. What had happened? Why was he there? His head was spinning, he was sweating, and as soon as he raised his head to check on himself, he was also bleeding. The bedsheets were soaked in blood;

Zayne tried to get out of bed to serch for medical supplies in order to staunch the bleeding. But he failed when he computed the actual condition of his counterparts arm: it wasn't human anymore;

Then, Doctor Zayne remembered the uncountable notes left to him by himself from that sick reality: "Wanderers. Infectious danger." Then he understood. It was his worst nightmare, the last one;

He made a colossal effort to try to get off bed. There's need to be a solution, a way out to save himself from that destiny. Then, he stumbled his hand on a little item left on the side bed table. He groaned in pain on the process to bring the object closer to his sight;

It was a little box. His last item was a set of rings. Engagement ones;

Dawnbraker Zayne opened his eyes, meeting your tender gaze, too flabbergasted to even speak. His body just leaned, seeking more of your warmth. You understood him and his cowardice, so you simply leaned the remaining amount of millimeters between both lips, kissing him again and again and again. "No need to worry. I'm gonna take care of you today, okay?" You said, making tears run down his eyes. "You...promise?" Dawnbraker asked, his throat aching for trying to hold his happy tears;

"Off course I promise! I'll always take care of you, Zayne." She smiled again. After a terrible life, Dawnbreaker felt loved. He pulled you for a last kiss. "Thank you. I'll always love you, no matter when or where. Remember that."

Blurred by tears, Dawnbreaker's vision faded away from that reality into nothing. But while he took the last look at you, all passionate and feelings love, he couldn't be envious anymore, because he was once, loved by his dream girl, he was at least once, truly happy. Dawnbreaker finally could fell peace;

Delirious by the pain, the last thing Doctor Zayne could hear was someone kicking the front door, presenting themselves as police. Before his bedroom door was broken entirely down, he placed the ring box near his chest, clenching his grip around it;

Doctor Zayne opened his eyes again to meet yours. The pain had vanished, and he returned to his world. As you kissed all over his face, he smiled, hugging you tightly as tears ran down his face. That was his last nightmare as Dawnbreaker, and Doctor Zayne would make sure to fulfill his last wish;

Just then, one day, Zayne would also give his last breath beside the woman he loved dearly.

E N D

[httpswritings]

The Great War — Katie McCabe x Reader

Additional info: Story inspired Taylor Swift’s The Great War. I’m in my Katie era, but I’m also planning on writing about other players, especially Alexia, which I have like four ideas to write about. We’ll see. I also have a draft of Ruesha x Katie inspired in Moth to a flame by The Weeknd, but I’m doubting about posting it or not. Maybe in the future I’ll write a Caitlin x Katie fic, but I don't have a clear vision of them yet to properly write about them.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, throwing up and therapy, sensitive topics overall, avoid reading if you find them triggering. Angsty Katie.

Word count: 1691

Right after Katie ended her relationship with Caitlin Foord, she met Y/N. After some time, they got into a relationship together. They enjoyed every single second of the magical connection they seemed to have. With the passing of time, Katie became more and more anxious about her relationship with Y/N. She doubted she could be what Y/N deserved, even though her girlfriend took her time every day to remind Katie that she's never been as happy in a relationship as she was with her.

«My knuckles were bruised like violets

Sucker punching walls, cursed you as I sleep-talked»

Two heartbreaks in such a little time, with both her Ireland National Team's member Ruesha and girlfriend of seven years, and her Arsenal's teammate Caitlin Foord, who was her girlfriend during half a year, made the Irishwoman insecure about her ability to love, to trust, to have a happy fairytale ending. Katie knew these thoughts would damage her relationship with Y/N, but she couldn't help but to spend most of her day tracking every single detail that built her relationship to the obsessive point where she felt absolutely sick of herself.

«Spineless in my tomb of silence

Tore your banners down, took the battle underground»

When she reached her limit, she told Y/N about what was going on. Y/N responded well and helped Katie, and it started well. Really well. But after some time, Katie fell back into a cycle of doubt and anxiety, and those sensations kept growing when she noticed any change in Y/N's mood, as she took it too personally. This made her re-experience in her mind those moments of stress while she was with Ruesha or Caitlin.

«And maybe it was ego swinging

Maybe it was her

Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur»

Y/N tried to understand her, she tried and tried but eventually, she reached her limit.

“I want to help you. I really do. But I can't continue like this. I'm not Ruesha, nor I am Caitlin. I am aware that being in a new relationship it's difficult for you, so maybe we should take things a bit slower. I don't mean to take a break, but maybe I should go back to my flat. We will move on slower than we did before, but I do think it's the only way to work it out.”

«All that bloodshed, crimson clover

Sweet dream was over»

“Yeah, maybe you're right´”, that was Katie's only response. Y/N limited herself to sigh. That night, Katie slept alone in her bed. Her body reacting to the cold sheets and crying herself to sleep.

«My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War»

Sweet morning messages from Y/N, “Good morning, baby. Do good at training today! Love you ;)”

Surprise visits from Y/N, lovely gifts, usually handmade ones, brought Katie to tears as she felt endlessly loved.

«Always remember

Tears on the letter

I vowed not to cry anymore

If we survived the Great War»

Katie prayed for things to get back as they were during the first months of the relationship. The feeling of her not being a good girlfriend to Y/N haunted her even in her sleep.

«You drew up some good faith treaties

I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone»

Y/N suggested going to a therapist together, but Katie was unsure about that. She thought that if she couldn't quite open to her girlfriend about her feelings and thoughts, she wouldn't be able to talk about what was bothering her to a therapist. Such a huge contrast between the two parts of the relationship that drew them even more apart.

«You said I have to trust more freely

But diesel is desire, you were playing with fire

And maybe it's the past that's talkin'

Screamin' from the crypt

Tellin' me to punish you for things you never did

So I justified it»

“No, I'm sorry, but I'm not doing this. I feel uncomfortable talking to a stranger about our issues.”

“I know, baby, I was just suggesting it. Let me explain you why. We are aware of having some problems in our relationship, but we don't really know how to get through it. We've tried and things keep getting worse. Maybe talking to someone who's out of our relationship can make this whole situation clearer for the both of us.”

«All that bloodshed, crimson clover

The bombs were close and

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember

The burning embers

I vowed not to fight anymore

If we survived the Great War»

Katie took some weeks to meditate Y/N´s idea. She was terrified of being judged by the therapist they would talk to. Even more scared of Y/N realizing she didn't do any good to her. Eventually, she agreed.

“Maybe she's right. People attend therapy sessions. It's normal, Katie. It's normal”, she said to herself.

«It turned into something bigger

Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed»

Katie was not new to getting help from a therapist. She was very open about her mental health in different areas of her life, whether that included football or not. The first time she attended a therapy session was when she was a teenager. It went well, so did the first sessions with Anna, Katie's and Y/N´s psychologist.

Making progress is not a linear process, and making mistakes is a part of the success. Mistakes are a victory in themselves, it means that you're still trying. One day, Katie had an individual session with Anna. Anna felt it was Katie's time to open about her two past relationships; a young adult romance that lasted for more than half a decade and a short but intense romance of one year after a breakup.

It was a slow conversation filled with many pauses from Katie.

“Are you gonna tell Y/N what I'm telling you?”

“No, Katie. This stays between me and you”, said Anna.

As Katie told her her experiences in love, she broke down.

The wall she had built, in order to avoid being hurt and judged, collapsed in that therapy room.

“Don't be afraid to cry. You have nothing to prove to me nor to Y/N. This is about you and your healing process. Y/N will help you and accompany you, but it's crucial for you to work on yourself, especially being a public figure.”

«Your finger on my hair pin triggers»

As Katie arrived home, she unlocked her phone and asked Y/N to come over.

“I've asked Anna, and she told me it was a good initiative and a great way of gaining some independence in our relationship, leaving her out of it for a while. Don't feel obliged to!”

“I am exhausted, baby. Work was something else today, and I’m a little bit irritated because of it, lol. Maybe another time? Love you.”

As Katie was about to spiral, she remembered Anna's advice. She breathed deeply. Y/N was setting her boundaries. She trusted Katie enough to tell her the truth and not to make any excuses. She felt tired from work. Y/N is not mad at her. She didn't do anything wrong. Everything’s okay.

«Soldier down on that icy ground

Looked up at me with honor and truth

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops»

The next day Katie woke up to a text from Y/N.

“Good morning, princess. I had a great sleep, what about you? How did you sleep? I’m up to seeing you today if you feel like it. Love you.”

Still slightly asleep, she smiled.

“I can't wait to see you today, beautiful girl. I had a good sleep, too. Good to have the bed all to myself ;))”

She frowned after sending the text with that joke at the end.

“Breath, Katie, let these useless thoughts pass. Both you and Y/N feel comfortable teasing each other”, said Katie to herself.

“Ha, ha, really funny. We both know you missed having me snoring next to you.”

“How do you know?!?!”

«That was the night I nearly lost you

I really thought I lost you»

As Katie was preparing herself to go out with Y/N to have lunch, she remembered the night where Y/N left her house.

She doesn't freak out to the thought of it, but instead she does an exercise of introspection. She sees herself in her mind, almost throwing up, completely emotionally depending on her girlfriend while pushing her away and bottling up her feelings.

«We can plant a memory garden

Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

And we will never go back

To that bloodshed, crimson clover

The worst was over»

Now she looks at herself in the mirror. She sees herself, Katie, as the woman who knows that she's loved, and she's deserving of being it. The woman who respects her girlfriend’s boundaries and doesn't freak out at the tiniest change that she perceives. The woman who's going to take her girlfriend out to have a good time having lunch, not worrying about anything but what order she's going to have.

«My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War

Always remember

We're burned for better

I vowed I would always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

I would always be yours

'Cause we survived the Great War

I vowed I would always be yours»

As they arrived home back from the restaurant, Y/N walked towards Katie.

“I’m so proud of you, baby. You did this. You are doing it every day. I’m so excited to see where our relationship leads us to.”

As Katie sobbed, she softly laughed, “It’s nice to cry sometimes. God, I feel so relieved. I’m so proud of myself, too, of us! Thank you for being there for me, Y/N, thank you. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life as your girlfriend.”

“Even when you'll wake up to my snoring?”

“Especially when I'll wake up to your snoring.”

[latanyalove]

I'm Right Here With You

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 

Pairing: Chopper x Motherly Y/N (Slight Zoro x Y/N)

Content: Discrimination against Straw Hats, misunderstandings, light angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending in part 2

A/n: Part 2 Here! I'm so happy and grateful for passing 200 followers! For that, we are celebrating this little one's birthday, who is also mine and Zoro's child. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing this! <3

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 

Happy Birthday to my Little Raccoon Dog!

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Even though you were new to the Straw Hat Pirates, there was one member that you had quickly grown close to.

The adorable doctor of the ship: Tony Tony Chopper.

Due to the fact that you are naturally capable of manipulating water without eating a devil fruit, you have suffered a lot of injuries trying to control the sea as a result.

Which meant a lot of visits to the doctor's office, which was great for the both of you. You healed quicker and Chopper had the chance to test out some medicine on you as well as get special plants from the ocean.

Nami would say that you two were two peas in a pod, which would confused Chopper and ask you to explain what it means to him.

You often attended to Chopper's needs, acting like a mother or older sister figure towards him. You would make sure he was eating properly and scold him if he was being reckless.

Chopper would often confide in you, as he knew that you would be able to provide him with the understanding and care he needed.

The crew had just arrived at a new island: even though the crew had been to many weird islands, this one was in the top ranks.

Apparently the whole island thought that they were in the year 1890, their dressing completely different compared to the crews clothes, all of us receiving stares especially towards Nami, Franky and Brook.

"Why is she wearing hardly any clothes?" "Is she not ashamed?" "She must be a slut,"

Listening for only a second, you quickly drapped your coat over her shoulders, staring back at the civilians. Nami looked self-conscious, which was never the case. Ever.

Luffy didn't even know half of the words that were said but seeing Nami's reaction made him boil in anger. Fortunately Franky caught on and closed Luffy's mouth before he would start yelling at the citizens.

"Let me go!" Luffy tried to say but Franky whispered something which kept him quiet for the meanwhile.

After a while, the mayor finally revealed himself to them, demanding why pirates were coming to 'terrorize' this island.

The calmest of the crew, Nico Robin, stepped forward and tried to explain herself but the mayor wasn't calm enough to be reasonable.

"Liar! Pirates are never to be trusted!" The mayor stated, looking for the residents to make the scene bigger.

"Mr. Mayor," Robin started, her voice unrecognisable as the rest of her words were whispered but it seemed to have made an impression on the leader.

"Oh- Okay, you have until tomorrow night to get out of here," The mayor said, trying to mask his fear with a fake confidence.

Robin turned around with a smile, pleased with her work.

"Let's go back to the ship to figure out a plan," She said and we quickly agreed, a path was given back to the ship in an instant. . . .

Chopper had been walking with his crew members through the town aware of the stares that he was receiving but it didn't affect him as much.

He had grown accustomed to the curious gazes and judgmental whispers that followed him wherever he went. He knew that being different was part of his identity as a reindeer with human-like abilities, and he had learned to embrace it.

"Mother! Please help me!"

Chopper's ears perked up amidst the noise of the town, and he quickly turned his head towards the desperate cry for help. Despite the stares and whispers, his compassionate nature couldn't ignore the plea of a child in need.

With a determined stride, Chopper followed the voice, ready to lend a helping hand.

I'll be back soon guys.

Navigating through the crowd, Chopper's hooves barely made a sound as he closed in on the source of distress. The echoes of the child's sobs grew louder, tugging at his heartstrings and fueling his determination to bring solace and assistance.

"Shut up little child!" "Stop crying!"

Chopper witnessed something terrifying: two drunk men beating up a child. His instincts kicked in, eating a Rumble ball to be in the Horn Point form as he rushed forward, using his strong antlers to fend off the attackers and protect the defenseless child.

With the attackers quickly defeated, Chopper's attention shifted entirely to the frightened child.

He turned into his Brain Point form before kneeling down beside them, he offered a gentle smile and reassurance.

"What's your name?" Chopper asked softly, his voice filled with genuine concern.

The child sniffed and looked up at him, their eyes wide with fear. "M-Mark," they stammered, their voice trembling.

Chopper nodded, his heart swelling with a mix of compassion and determination. "Don't worry, Mark. You're safe now. Are you hurt anywhere?"

Mark shook his head, realizing that Chopper was not a threat. Grateful tears welled up in Mark's eyes as he whispered, "Thank you. I'm just scared, but I'm not hurt."

"Mark! Baby! Where did you go!?"

Chopper's ears perked up at the sound of the female voice, and he turned his head to see a woman frantically searching for Mark.

With a reassuring smile, he gestured towards the child and said, "Don't worry, I found him. He's safe with me."

"Thank you so much! I was so worried," the woman said, tears of relief streaming down her face as she embraced her child tightly.

"Come on, Mark, we have to go meet up with your father," she said, grabbing his hand and dragging him away.

As Chopper watched them walk out of the alleyway, he noticed that there were more women with their sons walking in the same direction at the same time.

It was a peculiar sight, but Chopper understood that he couldn't judge their traditions or the reasons behind their actions.

Maybe it was Mother's day? Or a mother and son bonding day for the island?

Suddenly Mark looked back, his eyes filled with terror instead of gratitude.

It was clear that the woman claiming to be his mother was not who she seemed.

Though before he could do anything about it, he felt something make contact with his head, knocking him out. Darkness consumed Chopper as he lost consciousness, unaware of the danger that awaited him. . . .

It has been 2 hours since Chopper had gone missing and you really started to worry. You couldn't help but imagine all the possible dangers he could be facing out there alone in the dark, and the thought made your heart sink.

Even though Luffy said he would be alright, you couldn't help yourself from envisioning Chopper in dangerous situations. Thoughts of him being chased by predators or getting lost in unfamiliar territory consumed your mind, causing your anxiety to intensify.

"He's going to be alright," a voice said behind you, making you jump.

You turned around to see Zoro standing there, a reassuring smile on his face. "Chopper is resourceful and has survived countless dangers before."

"I know but I can't help but worry," you said, your voice trembling with concern. "I know Chopper is resourceful, but what if this time is different? What if he's in real danger?"

Zoro's smile faded slightly, but he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "He's tough remember, he's part of this crew for a reason,"

You nodded, staring out towards the island from where they were docked, and tried to find solace in Zoro's words. Deep down, you knew he was right. Chopper had always managed to find his way back to the crew, no matter how dire the circumstances.

Your heart still ached with worry, but you held onto the hope that Chopper's resilience would once again lead him safely back to the Sunny.

Without saying anything, you saw Zoro hand you a bottle of sake and you accepted it, taking a large gulp of it. As the warm liquid burned its way down your throat, you felt a sense of temporary relief wash over you.

"I've been meaning to ask, why do you act so motherly towards Chopper?" Zoro asked curiously, breaking the silence.

You paused for a moment, contemplating his question. "I guess it's because I see a bit of myself in him," you replied. "I know what it's like to feel scared and alone, and I just want to protect him like I wish someone had protected me."

Zoro nodded understandingly, his gaze softening. "Well, he's lucky to have you looking out for him," he said sincerely.

"Since we're asking questions, why do you act so fatherly towards Chopper?" you said, turning to face him.

There was hardly any space between the both of us since you were sitting close to him but you didn't care. Zoro, however, seemed taken aback by your question, his cheeks turning red and his eyes widening in surprise.

After a moment of hesitation, he finally replied, "I guess it's because I see him as a younger brother?"

"Is that all?"

"No," he muttered, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. "It's not just that. I care about him, just like I care about you."

His words hung in the air, and you felt your heart skip a beat at the unexpected confession.

"Well, I guess that makes you the overprotective dad and me the overly concerned mom of Tony Tony Chopper," you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

Zoro's cheeks turned even redder, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Yeah, he's lucky to have us as his parents," Zoro replied, his grin growing wider.

As the tension between you and Zoro reached its peak, the air crackled with anticipation. Time seemed to stand still as his lips brushed against yours, sending an electric shock through your entire body.

The kiss was soft yet passionate, igniting a fire within you that you never knew existed. Every touch, every caress, spoke volumes of the unspoken desires that had been brewing between you. In that moment, it was as if the world faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in a sea of euphoria and longing.

"Zoro, are you there?" The voice of Luffy was loud, enough for the both of us to back away from each other in embarrassment. The moment shattered, leaving us with flushed faces and a lingering tension that neither of us knew how to address.

"I'll go with him," Zoro said, quick to get up and leave, his sudden departure leaving you with a mix of confusion and disappointment.

You couldn't help but wonder if the intensity of the moment had scared him off or if there were other factors at play.

You couldn't help but wonder if Zoro's sudden departure meant that he didn't have romantic feelings for you. The lingering uncertainty left you questioning whether the kiss had fallen short of his expectations or if there were other reasons behind his retreat.

Was the kiss not good enough for him? It was your first kiss after all.

"Hey guys! Did you know what happened at the base?" A voice below at the dock said, capturing your interest. Curiosity piqued, you leaned over the railings of the ship to catch a glimpse of the commotion down below.

"No, I've been stuck guarding the area."

"Well I heard that the pet of the Straw Hats, Tony Tony Chopper was captured using our simplest trick," The male laughed, "And here I thought that they were strong!"

Your heart sank as you quickly sobered up at the mention of Chopper's capture. The playful moment with Zoro was instantly forgotten as a wave of worry and determination washed over you. You knew you had to find Chopper and bring him back safely, no matter the cost.

Sorry everyone, I couldn't wait any longer.

Without a second thought, you jumped off the ship and quietly followed the sound of their conversation, determined to rescue Chopper and ensure his safety.

You weren't the best at stealth, but you managed to stay hidden and follow them to their base, careful not to alert anyone of your presence.

As you approached the entrance, you couldn't help but feel a surge of adrenaline and determination, knowing that Chopper's safety depended on your next moves.

"The password?" A voice said behind the door.

"Evolution prevails," The man said confidently and in a matter of seconds, the door opened.

Right. You knew the password, now you just needed to infiltrate the base, without knowing how strong or how many they are.

Maybe you should have waited for Luffy's command.

No, Chopper needs you right now. He could be in the brink of death and you're the only one in the whole crew who knows more than just CPR.

You walked to the door and knocked twice like the previous did, saying "Evolution prevails,"

The door swung open, revealing a dimly lit corridor. As you stepped inside, the sound of faint footsteps echoed in the distance, urging you to tread carefully.

Since you were fairly new to the crew, you didn't have a wanted poster yet so it was easy to talk to people without being noticed.

"Hey old man, do you know where Tony Tony Chopper is being held?" you asked the elderly man who seemed to be drinking alone. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and caution.

After a moment of hesitation, he leaned in closer and whispered, "You're looking for the pet of the Straw Hats? What do you want with them? Are you supposed to be guarding them?"

"Yeah, I'm new here," You muttered, holding back from sending the man flying.

"Really? Well you're in luck, you get to take care of the weakest prisoner. He's already been beaten up in the basement so you can just watch or join in with the beatings!" The old man laughed.

"Who knew that the future King of the Pirates would recruit such a useless-"

He was on the verge of finishing his sentence when his own drink flew out of his cup, forming a helmet around the top of his head and drowning himself in the alcohol.

Instantly, panic erupted in the bar as the old man desperately tried to break free from the makeshift helmet of his own drink, while the other workers looked on in shock and disbelief.

The chaotic scene caused a momentary distraction, allowing you to slip away unnoticed and continue your search for Tony Tony Chopper.

You ran through the corridors, your heart pounding with each step as the image of Chopper's injured form lingered in your mind.

The urgency pushed you forward, determined to find him before it was too late. Every passing second only fueled your anxiety, driving you to search even harder for any sign of your little reindeer.

It was then that you found a staircase going downstairs, leading you deeper into the labyrinthine prison. With each step, the air grew colder and the atmosphere more oppressive, heightening your sense of foreboding.

"Please help!" "This is hell!" "I'll pay you to let me out!"

The desperate pleas and cries for help echoed through the prison, creating an eerie chorus that sent chills down your spine. The darkness of the corridors seemed to consume the flickering lights, adding to the feeling that you had indeed descended into the depths of hell itself.

Chopper, just wait a little.

As you made it to the end of the staircase, adrenaline coursing through your veins, you wasted no time in searching every jail cell with unwavering determination. With each guard that stood in your way, you swiftly overcame them, using your water ability to ensure nothing would stop you from finding and rescuing Chopper.

The prisoners ranged from young to old, humans to animals, but all of them were beaten up and injured. Their bodies bore the marks of brutality and their faces were etched with pain and despair.

It was a grim sight that served as a constant reminder of the cruelty and suffering within the prison walls.

"Y/N?" A voice whispered from a cell you quickly past by.

You recognized that voice straight away, turning back to look inside the cell. It was Tony Tony Chopper, his small frame huddled in a corner, his eyes filled with fear and hope as he saw you.

"Chopper!" you exclaimed, rushing to the cell and reaching through the bars to hold his trembling hand. "I found you. We're getting out of here."

You were shocked when you saw how beaten up Chopper was. His fur was matted with blood, and his limbs trembled with pain as he weakly clung to your hand.

It was clear that he had endured unimaginable suffering, and your heart ached with a mix of anger and determination to rescue him from this hellish prison.

"Y/N?" Chopper asked in a shaky voice.

"Yes Chopper?" You answered, looking through all of the unconscious guards clothes to find a key from the cell.

"Am I really the weakest?" Chopper asked, his voice filled with self-doubt.

You looked into his eyes, filled with determination, and replied, "No, Chopper. You are strong in your own way."

After finding a key, you quickly let him out, unlocking the cell door and embracing Chopper tightly.

Feeling the warmth of his trembling body against yours, you held Chopper tightly, letting him know that he was safe now and that you would protect him with all your strength.

"I thought you guys were going to leave me here," he cried, clinging onto you, his small body shaking with relief.

"Never," you whispered, wrapping your arms around him even tighter. "I will always be there for you, Chopper. As your mother, I would never leave you."

As Chopper clung onto you, his trembling body slowly started to relax. He looked up at you with tear-filled eyes and let out a small, shaky laugh.

"Now come on, let's get back before Dad gets mad," You said, remembering the event of before.

"Dad?"

"You know, the swordsman that always carries you around," You reminded him.

Seeing his face light up made you smile. "Zoro is my dad?!"

You nodded, enjoying to see the grin on his face.

"Hey! A prisoner is escaping!" A guard yelled from a distance.

You quickly snapped back into reality, realizing the danger that lurked outside the cell.

As the guard's shout echoed through the corridor, the sound of heavy boots hitting the ground grew louder, reverberating against the cold stone walls. Each thud seemed to send shockwaves of fear through your body, reminding you of the urgent need to escape and the perilous journey that lay ahead.

"Just don't let go and let me do the rest," you instructed Chopper, tucking him closer to your chest, as you both sprinted down the dimly lit corridor, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

Your ability was very useful since the basement was basically flooded.

As you ran through the flooded basement, you summoned your power, manipulating the water to rise and swirl around you. With a flick of your wrist, you sent powerful torrents crashing into the guards, knocking them off their feet and rendering them unconscious.

Water obeyed your every command, becoming a formidable weapon that cleared your path and thwarted anyone who dared to oppose you. . . .

By the time you two had made it out of the base, you were battered and bruised just like Chopper, your bodies bearing the physical scars of the fierce battle you had fought.

You breathed hard, trying to catch the breath that was knocked out of you moments ago by the doorman. The adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you glanced at Chopper and saw a worried look in his eyes.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" He asked worriedly, looking back to see if anyone was following us.

You reassured him with a faint smile, your voice filled with determination, "I'm fine, Chopper. We made it out together, and I won't let anyone harm us."

As you staggered, each step feeling heavier than the last, you kept your eyes set on the sea shore, where your crew members would be waiting for you in worry.

What would they think of you? Will they be disappointed when they see you because you disobeyed your captain's orders? Will they kick you out of the crew? Will Zoro, Luffy's first mate, hate you?

As you struggled to stay on your feet, the waves crashing against the shore seemed to grow louder. Chopper's worried face blurred in and out of focus, and before you could answer his question, darkness enveloped you, and you succumbed to unconsciousness.

"Y/N! Y/N please get up! If we get to the ship, I can use my medicine to heal you so stay awake until then!" Chopper said, panicked.

"Please, mom," you heard the distress in his voice as Chopper pleaded for you to stay conscious.

The sound of his worry cut through the darkness that surrounded you, urging you to fight against the pull of unconsciousness and make it to the ship where he could treat your injuries. . . .

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 

[evans23]

Daughter of mine II

Pairing : Judge Turpin x Daughter OC

Summary : The great judge Turpin tries to adapt to his new role as a father. Awkward, he doesn't realise that his daughter doesn't find her place in this new world.

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : A bit of angst I guess. Mention of prostitution and death. Awkward father. If I forget something, please mention it to me !

A/N: Hello dear 😁 Here the next part of Daughter of mine. Enjoy !

Part I - Part III

Also read on AO3

The first days were awkward, to say the least. Catherine was intimidated by her new surroundings and Turpin didn't know how to be a father. He didn't really try either. He didn't have any good paternal figure when he was a kid, his father being the kind violent. Besides, he couldn't stop thinking it would have been easier if he had been in the child's life from the beginning. 

Not only did he have to catch up with six years of his daughter's life, almost seven, which was utterly impossible, but also, he wasn't sure how to impose his authority on his daughter. His daughter... Even this word sounded strange to him. 

It had only been two weeks since the girl had moved in with him, in his mansion. The servants were totally enamoured with the child, who was reserved and overly polite. She never asked for anything and ate everything that was served to her, even when it was obvious she didn't like what was on her plate. Fortunately, her governess could read the little girl far more easily than her dad, and each time she noticed an imperceptible grimace of disgust, she warned the cook not to prepare this food for the child anymore. 

True to his words, two days after her arrival, Catherine got a tutor. In fact, more than one. One of the teachers had for a mission was to teach her how to write, read, and speak properly, like a well-mannered lady should do. Another one was there to teach her to speak French and Italian and another one to provide some music and drawing skills.

She probably should learn how to dance, sew, and many other things a mother would judge necessary for his daughter to know, but Turpin wasn't a mother, scarcely a father, and those trivial competencies weren't what mattered the most for Turpin. He wanted a well-educated daughter, with knowledge in his head and not just an empty brain as too much lady of his acquaintance. Turpin was a conservator, yes, but he knew how important it was to be able to think by itself, even for a girl, even more for his daughter !

The triviality would be learned later, when he decided it was time to introduce her to the high society, in a timely manner. For the moment, there was no place for any leisure. Anyway, the hectic schedule of Catherine didn't leave any room for that. She had a tiring day like she had never experienced before. 

She had to wake up at seven o'clock, half past six sometimes, and be ready with the help of her maid before eight. She had a light breakfast before the start of her courses, which only stopped once at noon to let her the time to have lunch and then at half past four in the afternoon. From half past four to five, she had some time to play on her own but she had to be quite imaginative, for there were no toys for her. Not because Turpin was too stingy but because it hadn't crossed his mind that the girl could need more than pretty dresses and coats. 

However, Catherine was so happy with those beautiful clothes that she wore them with unconcealed joy as she had never had new clothes before, even less expensive and elegant dresses like these one but only the old ones of her mother who took up it as best as she could, that she didn't dare ask for more. 

In addition, she had three meals a day, water at will, tea in the morning, and even orange juice and snacks during the day if she wished to. But what delighted her the most was the hot cocoa her governess brought her every night before sleep. A beverage her mother couldn't afford at all. Also, and for her biggest relief, she was allowed to keep her candles lit all night to make the terrifying shadows of her past disappear. And she knew how expensive was a candle, her mother told her so each time she asked to keep one alight for the night when she was alone and so afraid.

Unfortunately, despite all the affluence she was surrounded with, she felt alone. Terribly alone. She had no friends, wasn't allowed to go out, except for the backyard of the mansion, but anyway, it was too cold to play outside, but more than everything else, she missed her mom. She was also secretly longing for a father. But Richard didn't seem to appeal to the idea or at least, it was what she thought. 

Richard was never home. He left an hour before her waking time and came back far after her bedtime. He worked every day, including on Saturday morning, and during the afternoon, he was locked up in his office. The only room she was forbidden to enter in. Should she have been bolder, she would probably intruded into his sanctuary of peace to have the privilege of his company, but the natural severity emanating from the man was enough to keep her on track. 

Sunday was the only day during which she had breakfast with him, but he wasn't very talkative and she didn't know what to say to the man who, inevitably, dismissed her in her room or in the garden with her maid to let her have some clear air while he was, yet again, in his office, working on court cases or attempting some business with The Beadle. 

And because she couldn't have a piece of Richard, not necessarily his heart, not even his affection, even though she was in desperate need of a bit of that more than the beautiful dresses and the palatable food, she started to become sad. Sadder than she was when her mom died or when they were living in the paucity on the outskirts of London. Sadder than when she had lost her little cat, dead because he was starving and her mom couldn't buy enough food for the three of them, sadder than when she had been sent to the orphanage. 

In fact, she felt deceived by the man she had thought would be more than just his savior. The moment she had understood who he was, she had thought he would be his father, the one she had wished for on every birthday, and also for Christmas. She had begun to feel the need to fill in the hole in her heart with the presence of the man she had dreamt of. Moreover, the death of Elena, her dear mommy, had enlarged that hole, and the instant she had acknowledged Richard for who he was, she had wrongly thought he would embrace his role as a father. How stupid she had been. How a man who had left her mother with a broken heart could have loved her ?

The governess and the maids had already understood what the child was longing for. She needed her father's love to heal. However, Richard wasn't mean on purpose. He just didn't know how to step into the life of the child, how to take up his place as a father. Of course, he knew he just had to be himself, but the truth was that he was afraid to act like his father. Never could he forgive himself if his daughter was as afraid of him as he was of his own father when he was a child and even a young teenager. 

He had promised to himself, the day she arrived home, that never ever he would beat her, no matter her wrongdoings. Never she would hear the sound of a whip on her back and even less the feel of it. Nevertheless, he was a firm believer in the fact that a kid needed a sprinkle of authority. Even more than a sprinkle. 

Yet, he had to admit that she was easy to manage. She didn't run amok around the house and apparently, she didn't inherit the malicious and devious traits of the Turpin. Also, she never answered back, something Richard had done many times at the same age, which had owed him many slaps in the face. And surprisingly, he found himself wishing she would answer back because it would mean she was talking with him. In his presence, she was always silent and he didn't know if it was because she was impressed by him or just because she didn't adapt well to her new environment, but it was bothering him. 

"Sir, may I enquire how is doing the daughter of yours ?" asked The Beadle, that morning in the court office.

Richard looked down at him suspiciously. He didn't appreciate the attention Beadle thought necessary to have towards his daughter. He knew the man too well and didn't have any difficulties to figure out his intentions. He would be cold in his grave before a man like him could consider being betrothed to Catherine. The girl wouldn't have any suitor before her twenty-five. Or before his death. And he was able to defy God's authority on that matter just to be sure she wouldn't fall for a miserable like Beadle. A depraved man like him. In fact, after consideration, a man at all !

He dismissed The Beadle with a frown which said far more than his mouth. For God's sake, he thought, never come the day she would find man interesting. Not that they were all that bad, but Catherine's legacy would be substantial. Indeed, he had already found enough loopholes in the law to prevent his manor and all his wealth from being entailed to a stranger cousin he hadn't met in his life. All he knew about that man was that he was living in Australia with his wife and a son of sixteen named Elliott. 

"How is she ?" he asked as usual when he came back from the court to the maid.

"Asleep," answered merely the woman. 

She was the oldest maid of the manor, also the one who was able with Richard diplomatically enough to bring him around the right decision. 

"Did she eat ?"

If the answer was no, which happened sometimes, he always made sure she had a heavy breakfast in the morning, one she had to eat entirely if she wanted to have a break after her last course of the day. It only happened once that she was deprived of her playtime. Turpin knew it wasn't a solution to punish the girl when she didn't feel like eating, but she was so thin, even after two weeks of the best food that he was afraid to see her fall sick. Eating wasn't a pleasure, it was vital. 

"Yes."

The quietness of the maid made him suspicious. 

"What's the matter, Anne ?" he asked roughly.

The old woman wasn't impressed at all by the man. She wasn't afraid to stand up to him, even if she had already threatened to fire her or worse, to send her to a colony in the middle of nowhere in the upside-down. Perhaps the fact she had been his governess when she was a child had something to do with it. And even if she was grateful for the man to have hired her after her husband's death when he was still a young man, barely established as a young lawyer thanks to the influence of his family. 

"The girl is depressed," she stated frankly.

"Depressed ? We are not depressed at her age. She didn't know anything about the hardness of life," he prompted harshly.

"As you didn't know anything about it at the same age, I guess ?" Anne uttered perfidiously. 

The look Richard gave her would have made anyone else shriek with fear, but the woman didn't flinch under his stringent gaze.

"She is not mistreated here," he growled, his tone a dangerous warning.

"No, but she is alone. No friends, no toys, only studying the whole day."

And no father, she added for herself. 

"I've no acquaintance with child of her age," stated Turpin, "and for the toy, I'll leave money on the buffet tomorrow morning. Go into town and buy what you think is fit for her."

Anne shook her head with disapprobation.

"What ? Woman, do you want to live on the street ? It's where you would be if it hadn't been for my great kindness," groaned Richard, his patience thinner and thinner at each rolling eyes of the maid.

"The gift would have more valor if it came from her father," she simply pointed out. 

Richard, whose eyes were flashing with all his anger, hurried away to lock himself in his bedroom, slamming the door violently to let everybody know how angry he was in the whole house, but more peculiarly Anne, how displeased he was tonight.

The next morning, there was no money on the buffet, which made the maid smile. She was sure her words had reached Richard.

The day seemed to drag on for poor Catherine. She was too distracted to focus on her lesson, which annoyed her teacher who scolded her, promising her to give a report to her father about her bad behaviour. Catherine didn't say anything, even though she found it quite unfair as she just let her mind roam around. It wasn't as if she had disrupted the class by chattering incessantly. Anyway, except for the servants, there was no one to speak with. 

The second teacher was far more lenient with her, asking her why she was so lost on him. She shrugged her shoulders, but the man, who had three daughters and eight grandchildren, wasn't dupe. There was a heaviness in the heart of the little girl. He tried to incite her to open up, without success. He didn't insist as he didn't want to frustrate her. He understood that she was like her father : she didn't give her trust easily and the old man wasn't keen to damage the bond he had started to create with her.

At the Court of Justice, Turpin wasn't more focused than his daughter. He had adjourned the Court, even though he had found some pleasure in not temper justice with mercy. Anne's straightforward honesty had kept him up all night. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to hurt the child, yet he knew he would if he was too involved in her life. He hadn't had any good role model and it wasn't as if he wasn't providing the child with everything she needed. But deep down, he knew it wasn't what she really needed. He had been a child too and back in time, he would have traded everything he had, money, wealth, high education, and the best tutors for the love of his parents. Or at least their care.

Her mother didn't have any maternal instinct. She had been married by force to a cruel man. She had given him an heir, then another one, who had died at the age of fifteen. His younger brother, more sensitive, more fragile, had made the terrible choice to stop breathing by hanging himself to the attic load-bearing beam. Richard was already studying in London when it happened. It's the butler who had found his brother and the boy had been buried in the highest discretion. No one knew the truth, except for the Turpin's family. Richard would never forget the belt lashes of his father when he had made him swear to never reveal the real causes of his father's dead. The truth would have disgraced the family. 

Catherine deserved better than the heavy Turpin's legacy. She deserved to be happy. And because he had been raised by the worst parents, he could be better. He knew everything he mustn't do. He knew how he could destroy her, therefore he knew how not to. 

He left the Court earlier than usual and well-decided to have supper with his daughter. Yet, when he arrived he found the manor too calm, almost as if everybody was already asleep. It was only five, so the venue should have been alive with servants accomplishing their duties, not with the distant cries of a little girl.

Turpin strode up the stairs, worried that something had happened to Catherine when he stumbled upon Anne.

"What's happening here ?" he asked roughly, "while Catherine is crying and where is everybody ?"

"It has been a tough day for the little mistress. Her classes didn't go well. Mister Wosley, her morning teacher had been quite hard with her. He wrote a rapport about her bad behavior, but the governess was with them and she assured me the little girl was quiet as usual, she was just not focusing on her lesson."

"And she's crying for a rapport about her behavior?" asked Turpin bewildered.

"She's afraid you don't want her anymore. The paper is quite severe."

"Because you read it ?" asked Richard, his eyebrows arched, the slightest annoyance on his face.

"No. She did and then she read it to me because she couldn't understand some words. I explained them to her in a more... soft way. I also assure her that you won't send her away because of the angriness of a teacher."

"You did well," said Richard absent-mindedly. 

He pretended to go to his office to read the note, but the maid retained him by clearing her throat. He turned around to face her, a questioning look on his features.

"What else ?" he asked, annoyed at his highest.

"This afternoon, she went out with Mister Brandon. He wanted a change of scenery to cheer up Catherine and..."

The maid hesitated, biting her lower lip.

"Anne, I'm tired, my daughter is crying which, I have to admit despite my disgust at doing it, distraught me, and I'm terribly hungry, which only add to my annoyance. If there is more, then speak without any diversion," he chided, his square shoulders and his stern eyes leaving no room for argument.

"Well, they found a strayed kitten and Catherine had brought it back. Mister Brandon didn't see the harm in it. But once he left, Harry, the stableman, told her that you didn't like animals and that you would probably throw the little pet against a wall to kill it if she didn't get rid of it before your return. She and her governess were trying to find an appropriate hideout for the little cat when she heard you arrived. Yet again, we tried with her governess to tell her you wouldn't do that, but she didn't believe us and now she's afraid Harry told you about her new companion while she didn't find anywhere to hide it."

Richard sighed heavily. The weariness and tiredness put a strain on him. 

"Thank you for telling me, Anne. Ask the butler to thank Harry with no money and reference. The boy doesn't work in my stable anymore,' and with that being said, and the package in his hands, he headed towards Catherine's room.

The governess froze when, after having closed the door, she turned around, almost bumping into Richard.

"My lord," she said with a curtesy.

"How is she ?" he asked, ignoring her terrifying eyes on him. 

"I managed to calm her down, but she is very afraid that you scold her or worse for what Mister Wosley wrote about her. She swears it's not true. And also..."

The woman wasn't sure she should keep quiet. She knew everything she had to about Turpin's bad temper and she had been here for only two weeks, also she didn't know if he could kill or not an innocent kitten.

"What about the cat ?" asked Richard harshly.

If he hadn't been so concerned about the well-being of his child, he would probably have found the expression of the governess hilarious. Her eyes were wide, she was gawking at him.

"Well ?" he insisted, "did you find an appropriate hideout for it ?"

"Indeed," answered the governess with embarrassment.

"Well, let's see if I can find it."

And with that being said, Richard knocked on the door, then entered without waiting for any answer, as he was sure the girl wouldn't have given permission to anyone to come in. 

"Catherine," thundered Turpin's voice, making the little girl shiver.

Her sad eyes looked upon his. He opened his mouth, but he didn't have time to utter any words that the little girls rushed into his arms. Flabbergasted, Turpin didn't know what to do and stayed stunned while Catherine flooded his golden waistcoat with her tears. 

"Come on, come on, calm down," said Richard softly, "let's sit down, yes ?"

He led her towards the huge bed on which were laying Merlin and many other plush animals.

"There's a whole zoo on your bed. Are you aware of that ?" asked playfully Turpin, hoping to ease a bit of the distress of his daughter.

It seemed to work as she giggled discretely. 

"Where do all those animals come from ?" asked curiously Richard.

"The servants," whispered the girl. 

Of course, they were all so fond of their little mistress, and apparently, they knew her better than him as everybody but he knew her love for animals, that they had spent some of their pay into expensive kids' stuff. 

"Do they all have a name ?"

Catherine nodded, introducing him to each of her unanimated friends with enthusiasm, her previous outburst forgotten. Even though Richard was happy to see the mood of the child liven up, he needed to clear up the events of the day. He cursed himself for bringing up the topic when she started to cry with violent sobbing.

"Hush, hush. I'm not scolding you, am I ?" he said, bothered to not know how to talk without causing anguish to his child. 

He, eventually, took his little hand in his, frowning at how thin her little arm was. He could see her bones protruding from her neckline and her shoulders and he was sure that during bath time, her maid could notice the same things with her ribs and knees. 

"You're not angry ?" she asked bashfully.

"No," said Richard.

And it was true. He knew quite well the teacher and how harsh he could be with his pupils. Yet, he was one of the best in his profession and Turpin wanted nothing but the cream of the top for her. He would have a word with him tomorrow, asking him to be more indulgent with the girl. He wouldn't have to ask twice for the man restrained his sternness because no one could match up to the anger of The High Judge Turpin. The Death's Judge. 

"Yet, I would like to be acquainted with someone else," uttered Richard.

Catherine still, understood he was talking about her cat. 

"I put him out," she declared too quickly.

Her alarmed eyes wandered a second too long towards her wardrobe. Richard stood up in a flourish and walked briskly to the piece of furniture.

"NO !" shouted the girl.

"Hush !" prompted Richard.

He sharply opened the door and a little ball of fur ran through the room to find refuge inside a cardboard box that the butler had given to Catherine for her new companion. 

"Well, it seems to already feel at home," stated Richard.

"Please, father, do not kill him," begged Catherine, bursting into tears.

Richard felt his blood ran cold through his whole body. It was the first time she had called him father. And if he was honest with himself, it had made his heart beat faster. 

"Never would I do something like that, Catherine," he said genuinely concerned she could believe him able to do something like that.

Actually, if Richard was totally honest, he could do that without any qualms to blackmail someone or to torture an enemy. But never would he do that to this girl who had become so precious for him in such a short time. Also, for Richard, animals were the sheerest and most beautiful of God's creation. Nothing to do with the mongrel he had to deal with in his day-to-day life. 

"But Harry said..."

"Do not listen to this idiot. Anyway, he doesn't work anymore for us. Rather than being gullible and believing everything everyone's telling you, you should learn to trust me."

She looked down embarrassed but Richard forced her to look at him by lifting her head with the help of one finger under his chin.

"What's the name of this little opportunist ?" he asked, looking with an amused look at the pet tearing apart the old blanket Anne had put into the box.

"Arthur," answered Catherine with a bright smile.

"Arthur ?" questioned Turpin.

"Like the King !"

Obviously. Merlin, Mordred, Gwaine, Percival, Leon, Elyan were the names of her plush and now Arthur, thought Richard, suppressing a laugh. 

"Well, Arthur is more than welcome in this house. As long as he doesn't dare come through my office and he doesn't scratch the sofas of the parlor."

Catherine nodded vigorously, her smile and the happiness flickering in her eyes a reward for Richard's tortured soul.

"I've also a present for you. I'm sorry it's not another beast for your zoo."

With that, he handed her the box he had put down on the nightstand. Catherine looked at the box with surprise before opening it with the enthusiasm of a child who wasn't used to getting a gift. Inside was laying the most beautiful doll she had ever seen. A porcelain doll with curly brown hair and the same green eyes as hers, like the one she shared with her mother. The doll's dress was made of real cashmere and embroidered with golden threads. 

"Are you happy ?" asked Turpin with trepidation as he didn't know how to interpret the child's silence. 

"I've never had something as beautiful before," whispered Catherine, not daring to take the doll out of her box, too afraid to damage it.

Richard did it for her, placing the doll among the animals.

"She will soon have her own house. I'm sure Anne and your governess would be more than delighted to help you to install her in her new lodgings. Perhaps you may ask Anne to teach you how to sew so that you could create a whole wardrobe for your doll. I will provide you with all the pieces of furniture you could need for this new entertainment."

The little girl, overwhelmed with joy, didn't know what to say and Richard, as introverted as his daughter on the field of sharing his feelings, told her he would meet her for supper. But while he was ready to leave the room, he heard Catherine's hurried steps running towards him. He didn't have time to turn around when a mass of brown curls threw itself into his arms.

He gently stroked her back with one hand, the other one caressing with as much love as he could dispense her hair. She finally stepped back, diving her green eyes in his hazel one without quivering at the natural toughness his face was constantly bearing. 

"Thank you, father," she whispered quietly, almost as if she was afraid of his reaction, afraid to lose the little affection he seemed disposed to give her.

Richard's face softened, his heart swelling with a feeling he hadn't felt for long. The last time, it was when Elena, his beloved Elena, was in his arms after he had made love to her. Elena had betrayed him when she had left him with no explanation. And now she was no longer of this world. But Catherine, the fruit of their love was there and she wanted nothing more than to love him unconditionally. It was at this moment, when he saw all the gratefulness of his daughter for a mere doll and his permission to let her keep the kitten, that a thought struck him. A man could lose a woman, but never a father could lose his child if he was able to be a good parent for the said child. So, Richard silently swore to himself he would be the best father a girl could hope for. From now on and until death comes to take him away from this world.

"You're welcome, daughter of mine," he said with a smile matching his daughter's one. A Turpin's smile. 

[kotias]

South Downs cottage - Our Eden

Okay, I've decided to create the cottage that I envision for Aziraphale and Crowley's final retirement at the end of the story.

I have used the Sims 4 game, meaning that I have been a bit limited on a few things, but here it comes, the vision I have for it.

Anyone looking for references, for inspiration, whether it is for drawing or writing, is very welcome to use those pictures.

In a story being worked on together with @daneecastle, called Our Eden, here is the full description:

Our Eden

(2836 words)

It felt like it had been two hundred years in preparation. And in a way, it was; the universe had so kindly presented him to the suicidal girl who had made it all possible, after all. It had so kindly given him a way to help her that would change her so dramatically that the effects of it still rippled through current days. His hands started shaking, and he pretended it was the strain of the walk. He had received the rights to that land in 1884, as Elspeth expired in her farm near Fulking, leaving a will addressed to him. He had spent years and years preparing it, honing it to perfection. He had build a proper garden out of the enormous fields, made it something his. Something theirs. Back then, he thought he may have lost Aziraphale, and yet receiving the land had sparked something new in him. He had spent an ungodly amount of time, only planting his trees, giving them time and space to grow into the luscious beauties they were today. He guided him through what felt almost like a forest, infused with his attentions. The apples had started showing- he grabbed one on the way, gave it to the angel. Anxiety spiked as they approached and were about to come into the final view. He pushed him against a tree, blocking his path, and kissed him, passionately, desperately, with all his love pouring out. He was shuddering. He wanted him to- He kissed him, again and again. The tree above them glowed a golden sheen.

"Cro-" more kissing. "Crowley-" Even more kissing. "Mm!" Aziraphale couldn't break away. So he pushed hard. "CROWLEY! What is going on?"

Crowley pursed his lips. Fuck it. He took his shades off, pushed them down into the pocket of his vest. He had never been good at hiding his emotions, his eyes betrayed them all. His anxiety, mixed with unfathomable excitement, was shining through them, he knew that very well. But Aziraphale knew what taking them off meant; he trusted him, he trusted him entirely, and he wanted him to know. "Just... just a little bit longer." He grabbed his hand again, and they were back on the path. Very quickly afterwards, he opened a little garden door, they passed another set of weeping willows, and there they were. The old farm had been rebuilt entirely into a cottage. A ground floor and a first floor, hidden under a dark tile roof. Maroon bricks, intertwined with regular touches of beige on the rims. Big, white windows all around it, giving more than sufficient lighting to the entire place. Large, teal shutters were attached to the walls. The entire garden around it had been fournished as to compliment its outdoor colours, and deeper into it, an enormous greenhouse had been installed, and was already almost exploding with greeneries. "... well. That's-" He forced himself to breathe. "That would be ours, if... if you would like to."

[...]

"Wanna visit the property properly, angel?" While he was swimming in his relief that his companion loved what he had created, and could stay there for days, he saw the looks he gave to the place, and of course he would be more than happy to show him what he had built for them.

Crowley took the hand and heaved himself up, cradled Aziraphale's hands into his own and kissed them. "Come on." He guided him back through the weeping willows, through the little garden gate, and they lost themselves into the near-forest he had taken the time of erecting for a century and a half. The trees who were welcoming them into the orchard were none other than apple trees of various types, blessing them with reds, greens and yellows. They were sheltered under gigantic mirabelle plum trees whose branches were hugging their little siblings, mixing their tame golden with the reds of their counterparts. The wind -or so Crowley pretended- was passing through the leaves, shaking them slightly as they passed below them. Like a finely-tuned music, nectarine trees, mixing their blonde and crimson colours into perfectly round and juicy fruits. Extending lower on the ground, several mulberry trees were offering a dark shelter from the sun and from any external view.

With a few steps, Crowley leaned down to pass under them, and leaned against the trunk of one of them, pulling Aziraphale against him. He gave him a kiss and brought him out of the leafy shelter, opening his view to a little vineyard he had managed to put together in the last decade. The vines adorned themselves with the blush colours of the setting sun, and opened their arms to the view of Devil's Dyke below. The never-ending greenery, the valley and the hills were battling for a chance to be seen by their two pairs of eyes, demanded the full spotlight and, in doing so, enhanced each other even more. Far into the horizon, beyond the curves of this landscape, glittered the shadow of the sea, reflecting the Heavens above like the Sun dropping into it burned like Hell below.

[...]

In his estimation, fifteen minutes passed before he nudged Aziraphale forward in their tour. They circled the orchard, until they reached the peaches and the pears that were hanging proudly from their trees. He guided him back into the small forest, and quickly, they were entirely covered with foliage above their heads. "I wanted to have more than one originally, but... they just don't know when to stop taking all the space. I thought it safer to just leave the one." This one was a fig tree, whose trunk was large, almost veiny with small craters all over, and its leaves and branches were extending so far beyond it that it had made itself a proper clearing. No other trees were allowed in its protection, and its roots were merrily swimming just below the surface of the ground, peeking through in a few spots. "But, strangely enough..." he brought him to the other side of the trunk and pointed to a large bush whose sharp-looking leaves were climbing up the fig tree like a praying Saint. "It seems to have gotten well acquainted with the strawberries. I don't know how they even appeared here, I for sure didn't plant them, but they've been clinging onto it for about ten years, I'd say." He leaned over the bush and picked one of its fruits, offered it to the angel. "Their taste really is unique, it seems that they've taken a bit of inspiration from the figs above them."

He brought him further into the orchard and back out the other side, and they were back into the garden around the cottage. Bushes full of fruits and vegetable patches were trailing their way around the back fence and contained to a single, rather large area, hidden behind rhododendron flowers. Crowley snapped his fingers for a basket, and did that a second time to collect the never-ending stream of growing zucchinis that were trying very hard to take over the entire area. A few pumpkins were starting to show, and the carrots and potatoes were just about to be ready- only a few additional weeks. Snap. The basket was sent into the kitchen directly. The sun was almost entirely set now, and the light was getting very dim. "If we enter the greenhouse now, I don't think you'll be able to see much. How about we go tomorrow morning, and I show you the house?"

"Yes, I'd like to see the greenhouse with the light, I believe thats where I'll find your best handy work so ..." He gestured toward the cottage. "After you?"

Crowley wrapped his arm around Aziraphale's and led him to the cottage's front door and unlocked it. He couldn't help a deep breath before opening the door, feeling his heart race again. That was it. Everything else would mean nothing if he didn't like the inside. The entry was a short corridor where a thin, dark brown table had been placed for usual end-of-the day clutter; it was open in a way that gave some space for the shoes of the hosts and visitors alike. By its side on the wall, a few hooks had been placed for any coat that needed taking off. It was quite simple, with walls painted yellow and a maroon ceiling. On the left, there was a bathroom as Crowley showed, rather large for the use they may have of it; a toilet, a sink, and, behind a semi-clear curtain, a grand bathtub, with enough space for two people to bathe without feeling the tiniest bit cramped. "I figured that you may appreciate visitors. There are a few families around here, and the kids get easily curious, I'm sure they'll pop by eventually. So... thought I'd furnish it properly, with the toilets and all."

[...]

He opened the door on the other side of the corridor, showing the living room, with one mahogany bookshelf taking over the wall in front of them, entirely empty except for two plants crawling their way up to the ceiling and showing off their vibrant green leaves all around the shelves. On their right was a large, arch-like window that would fully lit up the room during the day, in front of which were two armchairs and a small side table. In front of them, he had placed an off-white oak table that would comfortably host six diners, eight if they were feeling generous, but at the moment, a wooden bench and matching two chairs were surrounding it. On the far left of the room, a large couch and a low table were facing a grand chimney. Just before the couch was an archway that gave a hint of the kitchen hiding behind the wall.

Aziraphale wandered into the room, touching the furniture and looking at all the details of the room, a big smile on his face as he explored the living room. "This is so cozy! I love the chairs." He came to the arm chairs and leaned against one. "Do you prefer to have one or the other? Or is it 'whatever closer'?"

Crowley smiled tenderly at the angel. "You seem to have chosen yours already. Go on, try them out- I think you'll like them."

Aziraphale smiled, glad to see that Crowley noticed which one he favored. He sat in the armchair and leaned into it. It almost felt like he melted into the chair. "It's so comfortable and yet not too much so, I can definitely see myself spending a long time in this chair." He got up and walked over to Crowley, "next room?"

He nodded when it was time to get to the next step, and guided him through the archway and into the kitchen. Compared to the other rooms, it was rather small, but, Crowley thought, rather well furnished. It also was entirely Aziraphale, he hoped. Its soft, pastel colours, mainly beiges and teals, were lighting it up quite nicely, particularly considering that the window in this room was not quite as impressive as the one in the living room. It had a small folding table placed against the nearest wall with two high stools, where his basket full of almost overgrown zucchinis was resting. All over the right corner, facing the door leading to the entry, were a large set of counters and cupboards, an oven and a stove. In one of the cupboards, he had hidden as many kitchen appliances as he could find, enough to make the angel's life easier whatever the task he set himself to do. On the left side of the room was the stone staircase leading them upstairs; before it was a glass door bringing them back outside, behind it was one last door to be opened- and that was the big one. His library.

Aziraphale examined every drawer and cupboard. He pointed out the appliances he knew and questioned and investigated the ones he didn't; he was on an adventure through the kitchen, really getting to know everything. He knew this was his place. He had not really gotten too much into cooking,as he usually only made things for himself, but this time was different. He wasn't just cooking for himself. He was cooking for Crowley too, even if his demon only drank alcohol and coffee; he still got to share that experience. He hurried over to Crowley like a little kid. "Apologies dear, I couldn't help but explore. What's the next room?" He tipped his head ever so slightly in curiosity.

"Oooh, I think you'll like it." He really hoped he would. He took his hand, brought it to his lips for a gentle kiss, looking straight into his eyes. "And please, tell me if you would change anything." He brought him to the door, and opened it. While it had not been filled with books yet, the library was covered, on every wall, from the floor to the ceiling, with book shelves. That was a very round and rather high room, crawling all the way up to the end of the first floor, almost eating into the roof of the cottage, and every bookshelf had been designed to embrace those facts. They were accompanying the walls, hugged them perfectly all the way up to the roof. Three more of them, thinner and shorter, had been placed closer to the middle, creating a visual guide to the large window on the left side, mirroring the one in the living room. In that place, he had installed a wooden resting place, with plenty of cushions and plaids to keep it comfortable. Under that bench, he had created a large space to confine all sorts of blankets, tartan covers, pillows and other comfortable fabrics that would prove incredibly useful during the winter period. Covering the ground, he had chosen soft, dark blue carpeting, and placed more ottomans and footstools in the middle of the room, and a small, low metal table had been fixed on the floor for stability. Aziraphale did love drinking something with his reading, it would be a shame for it to stupidly fall on the floor due to a bad movement making the table tumble. Crowley gave plenty of time to the angel to discover his space, sat on the wooden bench while he was looking around, anxiously watching his reactions.

Aziraphale's reaction was bigger than any of the other rooms he was so overjoyed that his wings burst out and stuck to him as he ran around checkout every detail of his library. He would chatter on and on about what books he wanted to stack where, what he wanted to do with which area during which time of year. He even joked about letting Crowley sleep in a little area for him to cuddle with his Angel when he wanted to read. Then he came running back, floating when he leaped, his wings assisting, then pounced Crowley kissing him. "Thank you! This is absolutely wonderful, my love!"

"Well, as you'd have it, that was the plan-" He kicked into the bench's sides, and a little door to its hidden space opened, revealing the overflow of covers. "I know how much time you'll spend in here, angel, and I'd hate for either of us to get cold. Now, since you're already floating- if you go up to the next floor, you should be able to see your study. I made it so it felt part of the library." It was a little space he had created with a desk full of drawers and a few shelves, usually accessible by going up the stairs, and facing the open space of the library with only a fence separating them. Two windows circled it, giving it a fair bit of light.

Aziraphale paused and looked behind him, and giggled, let his wings vanish. "No, I think I'll go up there the human way. Care to show me?"

[...]

He chortled against his mouth and grabbed his hands, dragged him towards the bedroom's door, opened it with a kick and brought him in. It was a great room, he thought; full of warm colours, albeit on the darker side of the spectrum. The walls were burgundy, with large beige accents all over them, and the lamp above them was adorned with golden colours. On their right, the wall was comprised of a large, retractable door, with large mirrors attached to it, opening to what he knew was an enormous walk-in wardrobe, big enough to host all the clothes they had amassed during the last centuries. There were two little, dark side tables with small lamps attached to them. But the main piece was the bed; perfectly outraged with the tiny thing that Aziraphale dared call his resting place in the bookshop, Crowley had taken it upon himself to make it a proper King size, which had been covered with white and teal bed sheets on which slithered a red bedspread.

[marquisecubey]

I have a new dnd character and I’ve been drawing her so much for the past week uuuuuuhhhhhh anyway here’s sister Frenelle I named her after a type of light fixture

(Congratulations! You have clicked on the Read More and you have unlocked her long ass backstory. Enjoy this thing I sent to my dm, which I can only assume that she must have liked because she gave me a free legendary magic item lmfao. Don’t worry if you’re not up to snuff on Eberron specific lore, I catch you up on the important bits.)

The secret child of an elven nobleman and a human scholar, Frenelle Albright was born in the isolated island nation of Aerenal.

Aerenal was not a kind place to anyone who was not a full-blooded elf, and with very few flesh and blood friends to talk to, her mother's wide collection of books became her dearest companions. From an early age, the doctor saw great intelligence and curiosity in her daughter; the tomes she pulled from her mother’s shelves were leagues above her expected reading level, and by the age of eight, she could even hold entire conversations about complex historical topics.

Humans cannot wander freely across Aerenal with no reason, but it was a vital place when it came to Dr. Albright’s research. The goal of the books she was writing was to help the rest of the world gain a greater understanding of Aereni society, and to hopefully encourage them be less afraid of their open practice of necromancy. But sadly, while it was a fantastic place for a researcher, there were also very few opportunities for her bright young daughter to truly flourish and learn at her own pace. So one day, she had a difficult conversation with her daughter: For the next several years, she would stay on the island, while Frenelle would be moving across the sea to attend a boarding school in Fairhaven on her father’s coin.

Frenelle was terrified at first of being alone. She was already a terribly shy girl by nature, and the new city and climate were overwhelming. For the first month, she hardly spoke to anyone at all, not even to her teachers. However, over the next few months as she properly settled into Fairhaven, she was taken aback by how welcoming the new environment was, especially compared to the coldness of her hometown. People actually wanted to talk to her, and they remembered her name. She had peers that she could talk to about all of the math and magic and history that were bottled up for so long, and when she excelled at a topic, she was rewarded instead of scolded.

The most exciting thing about the academy was that she wasn't even the only half-elf there. Or rather, Khoravar as they called themselves, and as they called her too. The main group of khoravar who took her under their wing were a group of rambunctious kids from House Lyrandar, and it was here that she met her best friend, a boy named Leeko.

Leeko was outgoing, kind, and a bit of a hothead, but he was also passionate and smart in the same way she was. He loved all of the flying machines and massive airships that his family was building, and he talked intensely about how excited he was to pilot them one day, proudly showing off the Dragonmark of the Storm on his right hand. Despite them seeming like total opposites at a glance, the two couldn't have been closer. Every time they met up to try and study for classes, they'd end up talking for hours on end about everything from old magic to new technology. For the first time in her life, Frenelle wasn't alone.

Each year, she would return home to her mother for a couple of weeks, but as she continued to thrive in Fairview, she began to notice that the doctor was growing more isolated and depressed each year back on the island of the dead. Eventually, she was able to convince her mother to leave behind her studies, coming home with her daughter, never to return.

Frenelle quickly rose to become one of the top students in her class, graduating from her boarding school with honours and moving on to study divination magic and history at the University of Wynarn. By then, Leeko had left for the island of Stormhome to train as a pilot, but the two continued to write long, cascading letters to one another every single week.

Her unconventional background gave her a unique perspective when it came to her studies at Wynarn. This was all well and good, until it led to her constantly interrupting professors during lectures to question their biases. This was especially true when it came to the taboo field of necromancy, which she had grown up seeing as a very normal thing in her culture. Eventually, however, she quickly grew wise to the fact that if she wanted to succeed as an academic, she would need to suck up to her less worldly professors every now and again. After all, if she wanted to make her point of view known, she should attempt to hear them out as well.

While working on one of her Master's degrees, Frenelle's work ethic and passion managed to attract the attention of a temple of Aureon in Arcanix, where she was offered a position as a novice. She was hesitant to quit her studies at first, but at the urging of Leeko, who just had gotten a job as an air shuttle pilot at the floating towers, she dropped everything and accepted the massive opportunity.

In fact, the chance to see Leeko again may have been her biggest reason for moving to Arcanix, because it turns out, she had started to develop romantic feelings for him. And, as she would later come to find, he felt the exact same way. She would even learn that he had planned on marrying her, which was no small deal of course. After all, Leeko wasn’t simply just her best friend, he was an heir to House Lyrandar, the Half-Elven dynasty who controlled the rapidly growing industry of air travel across the civilized world, using the Dragonmark of the Storm that ran in their blood.

A proper, pure Dragonmark gives a person tremendous power. Most importantly to those in the twelve Dragonmarked houses, it is a predictable power. However, the same cannot be said of the unpredictable power that results when people from two different houses produce a child. Unpredictability is volatility, and volatility is danger. For the sake and the preservation of society, all marriages and sexual relations between those with different Dragonmarks are strictly prohibited.

Frenelle didn't actually notice her mark for the first few days. She had figured it was some benign skin condition, a small rash around her eye. When it didn't go away, she went to see one of the healers at the temple, who laughed when she said she had no idea what it was. When he realized she was being serious, he explained that she was a foundling, a Dragonmarked person with no previous ties to a house.

He explained that her Dragonmark of Detection was an incredible thing.

With the power of her newly manifested mark, Frenelle became an obvious standout among the rest of the clergy in ways she hadn't even thought were possible. She could look into people's thoughts, see entirely new creatures from beyond the material world. She could protect people from danger.

The royal family of Aundair was in search of a governess for their children, but not just any regular teacher would do. They needed a cleric, a person who could embody the very will of Aureon, the god of magic, knowledge, and the law itself. Their job wouldn't be just to teach, but to physically protect the future of the kingdom. And, who in the world could possibly be better for that than the gifted foundling who just landed on the steps of Arcanix?

Frenelle walked past the cockpit as she boarded the air shuttle. The pilot smiled as he called her name and waved with a childlike excitement. She lowered her head. Words that he’d never get to speak reverberated through her skull. She felt his heart sink like a rock through her own chest. He wanted to marry her.

Vows of celibacy aren't necessarily a requirement for becoming a cleric. However, many choose to take them on in an effort to avoid mortal matters clouding their judgment. It's not as though she had much of a choice in the matter. After all, when the queen who funded your schools and the god who bestowed you these powers give you a call to action, to uphold and protect the law, you listen.

So, as a cleric with a high stakes mission, Frenelle simply chose to take that mission very seriously. And you see, it's actually fine. She's fine. They're fine. It’s fine. He’s fine. They’re fine. They're all fine. She's fine. It’s fine.

[pretentiousgayguyidk]

Hey Hi Hello!

I saw your requests are open so here I am!

I was thinking about Ran, Rindou, Hakkai and Mitsuya with an slavic reader? Male preferably could be gn!

Also could I be the 🥟 anon If your making a list?

Feel free to ignore this!

Pre writing thoughts - Yes!! I absolutely can, I've studied a small amount of Russian and Icelandic - but it probably won't be accurate as I'll have to use Google translate to fill the gaps. I hope you enjoy this 🥟 Anon!

Post writing thoughts- Okay... Well, I wasn't expecting to write so much, so I'll have to make other parts for the other characters 😭 but I hope this is good enough considering how long it took. (Also sorry it wasn't gender neutral, I completely blanked on it)

(Name) stuck out like a sore thumb, having moved to Japan half way into the school year; it wasn't often that foreigners moved to the area. The peculiar student had certainly caught Mitsuya's attention, piquing Takashi's curiosity... Well, (Name)'s caught the eyes of everyone not just Mitsuya.

One thing that stood out was (Name)'s accent, the mix of Japanese words with the addition of deep and throaty annociations strange yet amusing; the rolling of his r's and the emphasis of the ch's and k's pointed towards Slavic origins. That note inspired Mitsuya, and in an attempt to make (Name) more comfortable he started researching traditional Slavic clothing.

"What is that?" Yasuda questioned, her brows furrowed in confusion and slight judgement - as the current piece Mitsuya was working on was out of character for him. The red, black, white, and blue fabric stood out against his usual more casual colour choices - and the sketches of geometric embroidery patterns weren't at all like the usual Kanji he used.

Mitsuya sticks his pencil behind his ear, leaning back in his chair earning satisfying pops from his spine; he had honestly been expecting this question and was expecting it to be asked sooner. He gives Yasuda a tired smile, his arms lax as they hang by his sides.

"It's a uh..." He trails off, unsure how to properly pronounce the word - as it was either Russian or Ukrainian, he couldn't tell the difference even with the little research he did - all he knew was that it was a more traditional Slavic outfit. "Byshibanka?"

He felt a tad guilty, even though the certain Slavic student was nowhere near to hear his horrendous mispronunciation; it felt like a dishonor of sorts. Yasuda raises a brow, her hands on her hips as she looks down at her club captain.

"A what?" She asks, knowing for a fact that - one: Mitsuya mispronounced it - and that two: she would never remember to look it up later when she got home.

Mitsuya sits up, running a hand over his short silver hair; his expression filled with exasperation, not at Yasuda but himself.

"It's this like- traditional Russian or... Whatever... Outfit? I wanted to give it to the new guy." He explains, earning a knowing nod from Yasuda - who knew from her first meeting with Mitsuya that he liked guys... Even if Mitsuya didn't know it himself yet.

"Oh... So you like him?"

Mitsuya shrugs, not getting the implication - as it wasn't exactly the norm for guys to date other guys. He had no idea if he liked the new kid, he just wanted to do something nice... It wasn't like he found (Name) interesting or cute.

"I don't know, he seems like a chill guy - I've never talked to him." The teens nonchalant answer only furthered Yasuda's suspicions, she wasn't going to spell it out for Mitsuya just yet; but she was certainly coming up with a scheme.

"Well, I hope he likes it... And hopefully he's actually Russian... You do know there's other countries like that, right?" She narrows her eyes, doubting that Mitsuya actually did enough research; not surprising, many teenagers weren't all that informed of nations outside of Japan and the major powers.

Takashi's eyes widen, shifting away nervously as he realizes that he completely glossed over the fact that there are other Slavic countries; he didn't bother looking at a map or anything, just looked up some traditional clothing.

"I mean- I..." He trails off, glancing down towards the pile of cloth in front of him; he didn't consider looking beyond Russia, and he didn't even know for a fact that the Vyshyvanka was Russian or not. He shrugs, attempting to wash away his own mild concern over what could be a massive mishap. "I'm sure it'll be fine... Right? Maybe he'll appreciate the sentiment?"

"I'm sure he will... Whatever, I'll leave you to finish your little gift." She states, turning to pay attention to some of the other club members.

Mitsuya felt strangely nervous, holding a box in his lap as he waited for (Name) to enter the school gardens, a place where (Name) often stayed for lunch - since he didn't exactly have many people to talk to. Soon enough, the Slavic man rounded the corner; entering the school gardens, taking his place in the corner with his lunch. (Name) didn't even notice Mitsuya, far too focused on his hunger to realize he wasn't alone like usual.

The Japanese teen finally gains his confidence, standing from his spot on one of the benches. His steps were steady, and his expression showed a lack of interest - or rather calm despite his slight anxiety.

"Hey." Mitsuya calls out casually, causing (Name) to jump as he looks up from his food. It probably wasn't a good idea to interrupt someone in the middle of their lunch, but Mitsuya's mind was oddly scrambled when it came to (Name); his usual calm and collected self thrown out the window.

"Eh? Hi?" (Name) replies, glancing away as he rubs his throat; conscious of how he spoke. His accent has always been a problem, especially with the Japanese language; it's earned more than a few strange looks from locals - as if him being visibly not Japanese wasn't enough to earn strange looks on occasion. Yet, Mitsuya didn't seem to mind his accent, in fact - Mitsuya found it endearing.

"So uh... I just wanted to give this to you." Mitsuya states awkwardly, gesturing down to the thin box in his hands; which had his name written on it, which helped (Name) - as he didn't know Mitsuya's name till reading it on the box.

"Yeah? What's the reason?" The Slavic teen questions, shifting in his seat as he sets aside his lunch box; pulling one leg up in an attempt to seem casual - even though he was very confused and suspicious. Mitsuya glances away nervously, rocking back and forth on his heels; a nervous habit he rarely ever felt the need to do.

"It... It's just a little something I made- I just uh... Wanted to... I don't know-" Mitsuya chokes on his words, feeling his heartbeat speed up as his cheeks warm; he felt strangely embarrassed by his reasoning. "I just wanted to help you feel more welcome."

"Ah... Makes sense... I guess." (Name) mumbles, glancing down to the box as he accepts it; his mind racing for any sort of clue as to what this gift could be.

The silence that falls between them grows more and more awkward and uncomfortable by the minute, neither of them knowing what to say in the moment. Finally, Mitsuya mumbles a small goodbye before turning on his heel to leave the garden.

Once Mitsuya was gone, (Name) hesitantly opened the box - his eyes widening at the sight of familiar clothing. He can't help but smile, setting the lid aside as he runs his hand over the embroidered fabric; he wasn't Ukrainian, but he had childhood friends who were - they always leaned towards traditionalism. They often wore vyshyvankas, and some other clothing that (Name) couldn't remember for the life of him... But either way, the sight of the clothes brought back fond memories.

Lifting the clothing from the box (Name) notices something, there wasn't any sort of tag or label printed onto the fabric... Did Mitsuya make this just for him? There was a note at the bottom of the box, which (Name) quickly turned his attention to.

Hey, I just wanted to make you feel more comfortable and welcome here - we Japanese aren't always the nicest to foreigners or whatever. So I did some research and made you this, I hope you like it.

It was such a simple note, but it made (Name)'s heart skip a beat. It wasn't as if Mitsuya had bought him a gift, which would have been greatly appreciated as well... But the fact that Mitsuya made it - well that was a whole other level.

"I'll have to thank him later..."

[lucy90712]

Can you write domestic fluff with joao felix?

WC: 2.6k Over the last year Joao and I have moved a lot with him going on loan to Chelsea then coming back to Atletico and now moving to Barcelona it's been a lot. When we moved to London we only rented a place as at the time we weren't sure how long we would be there which was a good choice as it only turned out to be 6 months but now moving to Barcelona we want to actually have a place of our own. There's a few reasons for this one being that Joao wants to stay here as even though he's currently only on loan he wants to stay beyond that and two we are awaiting the arrival of our baby who will be here before we know it. I was ok with renting somewhere if we had to but Joao wanted us to have a place to call home where we can decorate a nursery for our baby to grow up in. 

As soon as the move was confirmed we were looking at loads of houses all of which were lovely but we both fell in love with one place. It needed some updating and definitely some decorating to make it our style but we just loved the place so much that we decided that we would make it our project and do it together. I thought it would be fun to redo the place together as it will be our last big thing we do together before the baby arrives and Joao loved the idea so that's what we've been doing. 

As soon as we got the keys to the place we moved all of our things and went straight to the diy store to get loads of supplies. Walking around for the first time and looking at all the paint was a bit overwhelming but with some help from the store workers we found out what we would need and we picked it all out. While we were there we looked at all the colours we could have for the nursery but we decided to hold off on that until the rest of the house was done. By the time we had everything we had so much stuff which took ages to bring into the house especially as Joao would only let me bring in the light things like paint brushes. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Our decorating journey was put on hold after we got all the supplies as other things took over like Joao's debut for Barca and actually getting furniture for the place so we can live here properly. Now however we are officially starting our project and we have to get it done by the time the baby is due so we have a little under 4 months. Having such a strict deadline is kind of scary but I think it will motivate us to get it all done. 

Joao set an alarm last night which woke us up bright and early but it was fine as we both got up and got changed straight away so we could start right away. I was way more excited than I really should've been but it just felt so exciting to be making this house our own by ourselves without any outside help. I've always wanted to get into diy and nows my chance although taking on such a big project as my first isn't the most sensible but it's ok as it's our house so it can look however we want it to. Luckily I have done some research so I know exactly what we need to do it's just about whether we can actually do it but we'll figure that out as time goes on. 

Our first job was to wash all the walls down so they can then be painted. As there's a lot of walls to be done Joao and I needed to work together. He didn't want me going up a ladder just in case so I did the lower half of all the walls while he did the top half and the ceilings. We were having so much fun talking to each other while we had music on in the background which we were dancing to or at least I was. At some point Joao went mysteriously quiet for a bit too long but before I could look to see if he was ok I felt water being dropped on my head and down my back. Once the water stopped I looked up and Joao was laughing so hard at me that I couldn't help but laugh too as I can't lie it was a good prank. I couldn't let him get away with it though so I used the water I had and poured it on his feet to make his socks socking wet which he hates so it was good revenge. 

I won't lie we messed around as much as we worked but this is exactly why we are doing this together it's all about the memories and if that means it takes us longer then so be it. It also took us longer as I needed to take a break every so often because it was really tiring washing the walls. Joao joined me on my breaks which he said was to make sure I was ok but I think it's because he needed a break too he just wouldn't admit it. By the end of the day we had done every wall we were planning to paint throughout the entire house which really felt like an achievement. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Day two. Well more like week two something came up last weekend so we never got round to actually painting anything but this weekend any free time we have is already reserved for paining, no distractions. I've been looking forward to painting all week as currently our house is all a dim white which sure looks ok but I want some more colour. To decide what room to paint first Joao and I picked a room out of a hat and we got living room which is the room I've been looking forward to the most. My idea for this room was to re do the white paint on most walls and then we found this lovely sage green paint to go on the wall with the fireplace as an accent wall. I've been waiting ever since we got the paint to see what it would look like in real life so hopefully we can execute it well.

Joao prepared the paint while I put tape around the edges so we didn't get pain everywhere. When Joao came back he asked me to come over to him so I waddled over expecting him to show me something. I did not expect him to have a paintbrush in hand and bend down to paint something on my bump but that's exactly what he did. Luckily we had the forethought to get pregnancy safe paint which turned out to be a good idea as I'm now covered in it. 

"What have you drawn?" I asked 

"A happy face" Joao replied 

"I would ask why but there's no point" I laughed 

"I did it because I thought it would be cute if every time we paint a new room I paint something on your bump and we take a picture to remember our decoration journey" he said 

"Aww that's actually really cute" I said 

"I know sometimes I have good ideas" he said 

"You keep believing that honey" I teased while walking away with some paint 

He laughed at me before following me to help me get started on painting the accent wall with whatever paint isn't on my belly. Joao put on some music and the both of us danced and sang along to as we painted. Now I know for a fact that you should paint everything evenly and in a proper pattern but I find it much more fun to paint little smiley faces and hearts before covering them up. Joao noticed me doing it and started doing the same and then we started communicating with each other on our wall. All you could hear was our laughter over the music that had been turned down which is exactly how I want this house to be all the time. When we have our little family I want the place to be filled with laughter and happiness as often as possible as my childhood wasn't so I want to have that for my own family. 

For the rest of the day we painted every wall in the living room and then we also managed to paint the hallway. By the time we decided to stop for the day we were both covered in paint and all of my muscles were hurting especially my back. I had a bath which Joao prepared for me before I just got straight into bed as I just needed some rest. Joao joined me with some food for the both of us which we ate sat in bed before he got me to lay on my side so he could massage my back for me. I was hoping the days where this was needed would be further down the road but clearly that was too optimistic as for the last few days Joao has been having to do this for me so I can sleep. 

"We did good today I'm proud of us" I said 

"I'm proud of you, you are 6 months pregnant and spending all day painting a house that's pretty impressive" he said 

"Thank you also I appreciate you massaging my back it makes it feel so much better like I can actually move" I said 

"It's my pleasure babe remember when we found out and I promised you that I'd spend all day everyday looking after you this is part of that and it's not going to change anytime soon" he said 

~~~~~~~~~~

It's been a few months but we are finally at the point where we only have one room left to decorate the room I've been most excited about decorating, the nursery. The entire time we have been decorating the rest of the house Joao and I have been buying things for the nursery which we have been waiting to put up but we have held off until now. I was really hoping that we would get round to it quicker as I wanted to help but I'm now 8 months pregnant and really struggling to do too much each day so I won't be too much help. The one thing I have been able to do is to pick out the colour for the room with Joao's help of course. 

We decided not to find out what we were having as we don't mind if we have a boy or a girl we are just so excited to have a baby. Not knowing means it's a bit harder to decorate the nursery but I didn't spend hours on Pinterest when I couldn't sleep for nothing, this room is going to be perfect for our little one I'm sure of it. Since finding out I was pregnant I have been determined not to be one of those people that just paints their baby's room white or grey and I'm not going to be as Joao and I decided on a really nice yellow colour for the nursery as well as some wallpaper that has some other colours in it too. 

When I woke up this morning the bed was empty which freaked me out for a minute until I heard music coming from the room next door which is going to be the nursery. After a few attempts I hauled myself out of bed and waddled my way into the room where I saw a shirtless Joao up a ladder refreshing the white paint on the ceiling as we decided to keep that and just put little glow in the dark stars up when the baby gets a bit older. I must say it was a wonderful sight my handsome fiancé shirtless a with bits of paint over him as his arms flexed while dragging the paintbrush back and forth. 

"Wow what a wonderful sight for 8am" I laughed 

"Good morning love how did you sleep?" Joao asked as he got down from the ladder 

"About as well as someone who's 8 months pregnant can how are things going in here?" I asked 

"Pretty good I've almost finished the ceiling then I thought we could do the walls before I put up the wallpaper but if you're too tired I'm happy to set up the chair so you can just sit and watch" he offered 

"I want to help but I don't know how long I'll be able to help for" I said 

"And that's ok just tell me when you're tired and I'll take over" he said giving me a kiss before heading back up the ladder 

While he was getting on with finishing what he had started I took my place on the floor so I could do the lower half of the walls. This has become routine as I can't stand for too long as it hurts my feet and back so I sit down with a roller and do as much as I can reach. Actually painting is the boring part of this room so we worked pretty quickly or Joao did as I did as much of all the walls as I could but then I needed a break so I watched on as he finished everything. After that came the exciting part the part I've been looking forward to since finding out I was pregnant and moving into this house. 

All day we've been working around the tons of boxes that are in piled in the middle of the room. The boxes are filled with all of the furniture we've been buying for the baby and I'm so excited to put it all together. Joao and I have never been very good at putting furniture together for a long as I remember we've always got something wrong and had to start all over again. Today is the day we challenge that because first we are putting together the crib. My job is to read the instructions and hold things for Joao as he puts in the screws and hammers things together. We were doing so well but when we finished something didn't look right and I realised we'd put something in backwards so yet again we'd failed and had to start again. 

After finishing the crib we got started on the changing table which we actually did first try and after that we were on a roll. Everything went together so easily and before I knew it all the furniture was put together and was in a place we were happy with it. Then came the really exciting part getting to put up all the little decorations we had which were all animal themed so there was loads of stuffed animal all over the place and decals for the walls. All of the decorations really brought the room to life and helped me see us stood in here in just a few short weeks holding our little baby. 

"I can't believe there will be an actual baby in here in a few weeks" Joao commented as he came over putting his hands on my bump

"I know I can't believe it either this baby will be here soon and will be enjoying this room we've worked hard decorating for years to come it will get filled with pictures and toys it'll be amazing" I said 

"Yes it will and I can't wait for that day" Joao said giving me a kiss as our baby kicked his hands 

[anexistingexistence]

Hewwo people here's the unfinished base draft for a William/reader one shot I want to write properly at one point, please tell me what you think of it I need to be validated

(Also yes this is the one I was talking about in a recent (?) post. Yk, the one where William reunites with a lover he hasn't seen in 200 years? Yea that one.)

They stand right before him now, so impossibly close that William can finally take in all the details he had been slowly forgetting for the past two-hundred years. Every blemish, every eyelash, every pigment of color in their eyes - everything. And he loves it all.

"Darling." He can feel their breath on his skin as he speaks. "I have missed you so, you have no idea." And he almost reaches out to touch, but he holds back because what if his feelings, old and worn as they may be, are no longer reciprocated? What if, what the two had once had, had stayed in that coffin his beloved had been sleeping in for so long?

"I know," they say and he wants to reach for them and kiss them and taste them and take them and have them and- "And I'm sorry I have kept you waiting for so long." They apologize.

William does not reach for them.

They take a deep breath in contemplation, planning out their next words carefully. "I wish I could say I have found the answer I shut myself in to find, but I loathe to tell you that I haven't." They meet his gaze and with a look some might call pitiful, they smile at him. "I haven't the faintest idea of who I am, William, and I apologize from the depths of my heart for having wasted your time with waiting for me all those years."

Their lips quiver and a different light reflects from their eyes. It is beautiful and heart-wrenching, almost enraging and almost like a lullaby, but William puts those feelings aside.

"No, darling-" He wants to embrace them and hold them close but he tells himself that it is not yet appropriate- "How could that ever be a waste? I have lived and survived only for you, how could I detest any of what you do? Whether you know who you are or not, you still are yourself, and that is all I could ever ask for."

They blink away the light's reflection slowly. "You are far too kind for one like me, William," they muse with a smile and he wants to think that they're wrong. But William knows the places vampires go as they add more and more decades and even centuries to their age. He knows that his elder, his mentor - because at the end of it all, that is who they are - is not as kind as he knows them to be. And yet he loves them all the same.

"I think we might be more evenly matched now," he tries to reassure them, "You have been away for a long time, after all."

There is a moment of pain on their face before they respond in a melancholy tone, "Oh, how I wish that were true."

"I like to think it is," William admits, "I haven't been the same since I've lost you."

He hears the blood rush to their face at his implication and he can't help but find it endearing. They are not matched in kindness, but William thinks they might like where they are matched instead.

They grin and say, "I would like to have figured as much, but it seems my memory failed to remind me of how full of surprises you are."

They're closer now, somehow. William doesn't question how he hadn't noticed until now, at the end of the day he is still used to their ways. The thought sticks in his head a moment too long and he wonders just how used to them he still is. He wants to reach and find out. He wants to touch them and connect their lips and find out if he still knows all the ways they perfectly fit together.

He could reach for them now, couldn't he?

"William?" They ask and he hums in response, "Tell me who I am."

Their noses touch and their eyelids are heavy and half-closed already. William wants to reach out. He wants to touch and to have and to hold. William wants.

He answers, "Mine," and finally embraces his long-lost lover. They are warm and their hands are at his neck and in his hair, just like he knew they would be. They fit perfectly because they are his and he is theirs.

Forever.

=====

Also I'm tagging some people who got excited over that idea because I need to punch my anxiety in the face real quick so yea apologies for bothering y'all lmao @nevaroonie @paythesmith @s0lairee

[the-phantoms-kiss]

Pillow talk

Leon S Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Angst - Fluff - Smut - 5k

It was a wonderful night, the breeze was cool as it entered through the window, the moonlight shone happily into the room, and most importantly; I was wrapped up in the arms of the man I loved.

This should’ve been the perfect end sequence in a romance movie after the two protagonists have sex, or “make love”, however in my case, it did little to quell the questions that were raging inside my mind.

“Leon…” I whisper softly, propping myself up on my forearms. “What is it?” His voice was deep and tired. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to ask, perhaps I should wait until he isn’t half asleep. He opens his eyes after a while, noticing my lack of a response, and pulls me closer to him with the arm around my waist. “What’s wrong sweetheart?” He sits up, waiting for anything. “I- nothing… it’s okay. I’m sorry for waking you, go back to sleep.” I kiss him on the forehead and let him lie back down properly, resuming his peaceful slumber.

Before I know it the clock says it’s 2:41 and I’m in the same position I was all those hours ago. The same thought has been repeated over and over again. It’s stupid. I know the answer, yet I can’t bring myself to accept it. I should, otherwise I’ll just be wasting time. I get up as carefully as I can, trying not to wake Leon up, which is easier said than done, and I carefully make my way to a small office room in the apartment.

At his old typewriter, I begin to write a letter, it goes as follows;

Dear Leon,

I apologize for not giving you a proper goodbye, but I couldn't bear to look you in the eyes knowing I'd have to leave. It may not matter to you why it is that I'm leaving, hell I don't doubt you won't notice my absence until much later on, yet I still feel as if I owe you an explanation even if it’s a shitty one.

We've been close since that night in Raccoon City, we stuck through thick and thin on various missions afterward and I've seen you grow and change from the young, sweet, and artless rookie that you were. Don't worry, I've had my own changes, and it wasn't until recently that I discovered just how much I changed from the person I was to the person I am today, I've also noted the change from the person I am today to the person I wanted to be back then. I'm leaving in pursuit of becoming that woman I always wanted to be, that woman that I am deep down. A hopeless romantic who wants nothing more than to start a family in a small town with a meaningless job. This rotten city, and whichever other city you get assigned to has no future for me, at least not one that is negotiable. I will always remember you and hold you dear to my heart, but I’m just not sure I can be here any longer without losing myself. I’ve already lost so many, I can’t lose myself. Please don’t be sad, I’m sure you’ll meet others far funnier than I, others who you’ll be able to bear your whole soul to. Please don't track me.

Maybe someday our paths will cross, till then;

Yours truly,

💋

Leaving my lipstick was my signature, the easiest way for him to recognize me. I neatly folded it, put it inside an empty envelope, and set it on his nightstand along with a cup of coffee, just how he liked it. I drove back home and quickly packed up my belongings, stuffing them into the trunk of my car.

I drove up north, only stopping for coffee and gas every once in a while, never settling in a motel for the night, instead, I opted to sleep in the backseat of my car, dreaming of the day I’d finally be free of these plagues. Faking my death was the easiest part of it all, after all, working for the government means anything is accessible and anything is possible if you talk to the right people.

I wonder if he even saw the letter, he probably thought it was some lame excuse to leave without making him breakfast, a habit we had gotten used to over the years of casual sex and crashing over at each other’s place when we were too drunk to drive home. Maybe it was exactly what he was hoping for, a break from me. I guess only time will tell.

Leon’s POV

The smell of coffee lingers in the air, the bed is colder than usual, and she isn’t singing in the kitchen like she usually is when she spends the night, she didn’t even wake me up at 6. Did I somehow dream last night? I was pretty drunk… but that’s not right, the coffee on the nightstand is-. I sit up and grab the mug, it’s cold like it’s just been there for hours, but it’s the same as when she always makes it. This must be some kind of game, ah, and here’s a letter most likely explaining the rules, a bit unusual that she didn’t tell me earlier, usually when she plays these games she at least gives me a heads up. Jesus, why’d I have to be into a detective?

Let’s see, “ ’Dear Leon’, blah blah blah blah, jeez she really got into character this time, let’s just skip to the good part, ‘don’t track me’ What am I supposed to do then? Hope I run into her? Maybe the clues are hidden in the text.” As I reread the entire letter I quickly realize, that this isn’t another one of her games, this is a goodbye. But… no. She must be kidding right? Some sick prank she thought would be funny? She knows how many people have left me… she knows that… she’s… I don’t have anyone… why would she leave if she knew that? “FUCK” I grab the mug and toss it at the wall in a fit of rage, shattering to pieces.

 *RING RING RING* Great who is it now?! Claire Redfield? “My condolences Leon, she was a great teammate and an even better friend.” “What condolences? Do you know how long she was planning this?!” “I don’t know! I would’ve helped her if I had known… she didn’t deserve to go like that.” “Helped her?! Deserve to go out like that?! So what? You’re just going to help her play the victim now?” “Jesus, Leon! Have some respect for the dead, despite whatever religion you may believe in we can both agree that we shouldn’t blame her for killing herself, the blame should be on us who didn’t even notice something was up.” “Killed herself? What do you mean…?” “Stop acting dumb! It’s all over the news! Those damn bastards couldn’t let her rest even after her death.”

That can’t be right… she would have told me if she was even feeling remotely suicidal… she- THE LETTER! SHE TOLD ME! HOURS OR EVEN SECONDS BEFORE DOING IT! WHY WOULD SHE DO SOMETHING SO DRASTIC! I WAS RIGHT NEXT TO HER! I COULD’VE SAVED HER AND EVEN AT THAT, I FAILED! MERE INCHES AWAY AND STILL I- I failed her- if I had gotten up instead of pretending to sleep if I had opened my eyes when she left the coffee on the nightstand… I could’ve prevented all of this…

2 Years later (2005) 7 years after the incident

MAIN POV

The night was quiet, even inside the bar, the bar was quieter than usual as it was late and most patrons would have work the next day. I loved these kinds of nights, the kind where the sound of people talking and low jazz music were nothing but ambiance noise compared to the rain that was pounding on the windows. The doorbell jingled, and a man came in. I must be dreaming, he looks an awful lot like Leon, sure the blonde hair is throwing me off but the resemblance is there, it can’t be, what’s an old town like this got to do with his operations? Maybe I’m drunk, I doubt it since this is my second glass of wine, but stranger things have happened. As I look back away and out the window a heavy set of footsteps walk up to my table. “Excuse me, is this seat taken?” Holy shit. It’s him. Maybe he won’t notice if I keep quiet and look out the window, maybe the changed hair color will throw him off? Right like his threw me right off track. I shake my head side to side, careful to not show my face. “Thanks.” He pulls out the chair, faces it towards the front of the bar, with his back to the window and sits on it. Umm hello? Can you leave? “It’s a nice night ain’t it.” I guess you aren’t going to leave. I just nod. “Cut the shit, I know it’s you.” He slams his beer on the table and turns his body towards me. I feel the hairs on my body stand at the sudden loudness of his voice. The place goes quiet for a second, and I remain quiet as well. “Fine then, don’t speak to me, I’ll talk whether you talk or not.” I stand up and quickly walk outside, speaking as I do. “I don’t want to talk Leon.” He reaches up to me just as fast, and grabs my wrist before I can get into my car, the rain slowly drenching us both.

 “No! You are not walking away from me. Not again. You may have said everything you wanted to that night but just remember that I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye. You left me with what may have been a reason to move states, but to me it was a letter with a reason to end your life, and that wasn’t fair. You knew that I would find out about your death so why make it seem like a suicide note knowing damn well that you had no intention to do so. You left me when you knew! YOU KNEW THAT I HAD NO ONE ELSE. DO YOU KNOW JUST HOW MUCH IT KILLED ME THINKING IT WAS MY FAULT YOU HAD ENDED IT? I CRIED FOR MONTHS NONSTOP AND WHEN I WOULDN’T BE CRYING I WOULD BE DRINKING, BLAMING MYSELF FOR NOT HAVE ASKED YOU WHAT WAS WRONG THAT NIGHT WHEN THERE WAS OBVIOUSLY SOMETHING WRONG. IT KILLED ME. YOU KILLED ME. YOU HURT ME MORE THAN ANY OF THOSE STUPID MISSIONS EVER DID. AND FOR WHAT? WHAT WAS THE REASON? TO END UP WORKING AT SOME MORGUE IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE? YOU WALKED OUT ON ME. WHY? WHY?! YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE TO COME BACK JUST PLEASE TELL ME WHY!

“BECAUSE I LOVED YOU LEON! I STILL DO! AND I KNEW YOU WEREN’T READY TO SETTLE SO I LEFT. I LEFT THAT NIGHT BECAUSE I LOVED YOU AND I KNEW YOU DIDN’T LOVE ME. IT HURT TOO MUCH NEVER BEING ABLE TO TELL YOU OR SHOW YOU JUST HOW MUCH I DID. AND NO, I DIDN’T GET TO TELL YOU EVERYTHING I WANTED TO SAY IN THAT LETTER BECAUSE I WAS SCARED OF WHAT YOU WOULD DO IF YOU KNEW I LOVED YOU. I AM SORRY I HURT YOU SO MUCH. I JUST COULDN’T LIVE THAT WAY AND I NEEDED TO ESCAPE. I WAS SO BLINDED BY MY OWN PAIN I DIDN’T EVEN REALIZE WHAT I DID UNTIL I WAS SEVERAL TOWNS OVER AND I KNEW IT WAS TOO LATE BY THEN. I LOST IT. I LOST IT LEON. I LOST IT ALL. I- I WAS GOING MAD. IT WAS DRIVING ME MAD THE WAY YOU INTERACTED WITH ADA! YOU WERE HEAD OVER HEELS FOR HER AND I WAS SIMPLY THE SECOND CHOICE! EVEN WHEN WE MET YOU WERE HUNG UP ON SOMEONE! I NEVER HAD A CHANCE.”

“YOU’RE WRONG! I NEVER LIKED ADA! ALL SHE HAS DONE IS LIE AND BETRAY MY TRUST!  IT’S BEEN YOU SINCE THAT NIGHT WE MET! AND YOU’RE RIGHT I WASN’T READY TO HAVE A FAMILY, BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN I NEVER WANTED TO START ONE! ESPECIALLY WITH YOU! GOD I WOULD KILL TO HAVE THE CHANCE TO CALL YOU MINE IN ANY FORM!” His facial expression suddenly changes from anger to sadness, and one can practically see the gears in his brain as he thinks of what to say next. He steps closer his eyes now looking down at his own shoes, and when he speaks it’s much quieter than the previous shouting he was doing, his voice is slightly deeper and he talks slower, as if he’s realizing the meaning of his own words as he says them.

“You don’t know how many nights I spent dreaming about the day I could finally quit my job and just ask you to be mine already. So many nights wishing that all of these viruses would just go away so I could finally take you out to dinner and treat you the way you always deserved. I just wish you would have let me tell you that instead of making choice for me. I love you. I love you so fucking much it hurts. Surely you must know that… right?” I pull him in by his jacket, and I kiss him. I kiss him like there’s no tomorrow and he kisses back just as passionately, his arms wrapped rightly around my waist pulling me and closely as possible and it still wasn’t enough. For what feels like an eternity we stand there, drenched and yet it doesn’t bother us, and it isn’t until our lungs beg for air that we finally pull apart. He picks me up bridal style and runs to the passenger side of his car putting me inside, takes off his wool jacket and lays it on me gently before running back to the driver seat and driving to my house. “How- that’s a stupid question it'd be stranger if you didn’t know my address.” He chuckles, but that doesn’t answer my second question, “If you have something to say then say it, I don’t want you keeping any questions from me ever again.” He looks at me, frowning. “How many times did you have to look at my address to memorize the path from the bar to it?” “Too many, honey.” That’s all I wanted, a sweet nickname that I know only I’ll hear. While he drives he puts his hand on my thigh, and it feels so unbelievable right.

When we arrive he runs back over to my door to open it and extends his hand for me to hold, I run to the door and unlock it running inside for shelter as the rain falls in bigger drops, “I’m going to go shower really quickly, make yourself at home.” “Can I join you?” his hand still on mine “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, I’ll be out in a second I promise.” I kiss his forehead, and run to the restroom to shower before I catch a cold. When I get out of the shower I shiver, only wearing a towel, he’s in my room, standing by the fireplace that is now ablaze while he looks at the pictures and trinkets I have on it. “I left some hot water for you, better run and shower before I go back in.” He doesn’t answer, he just motions for me to come closer and when I do he holds my waist with one hand, the other holds out a framed picture of the both us selfie, it was taken on my 21st birthday, we were in a booth in a bar, jeez why are we always at bars? “I have this exact same picture framed on my nightstand. We’ll make it. I promise.” He kisses my forehead, his hair still damp and cold from the rain, after a few seconds he pulls away and goes to shower. Should I bring some wine? What about lingerie? Too much? Yeah, too much. I just want to make it up to him. Candles! Music! Is Jeff buckley too much heartbreak? Chris Isaak? Nine Inch Nails? Too kinky for our first romantic time. Alannah Myles? Yes. Black velvet comes on first too?! Perfect.

As if on cue Leon comes out of the bathroom with a towel covering his lower half, I just can’t help it and I run into his arms pulling him in to a kiss once again, he must’ve been feeling the same way because his hands immediately land on my hips and he pulls me flush against his chest, my hands on his hair. He picks me up bridal style and carefully throws me onto the bed, climbing on top of me, his hands roaming any bare skin I have, his kisses growing sloppy and eventually moving down my neck occasionally nipping and leaving his mark, kissing back up my jaw and nibbling right below my ear, the sound of his heavy breathing makes me rub my thighs and he instantly notices, pulling them apart and throwing the towels which hung loosely around us onto the floor. It was like he was analyzing which part he should go after first. His kisses go between the valley of my breasts, and he carefully pinches both nipples at the same time, his tongue leaving a trail as it goes lower and lower, “Leon, please,” My voice barely above a whisper, “I wanna be yours… I’m going to make you mine.” His lips right above my clit the vibration still going through. And he kisses it, slowly at first, his fingers never leaving my nipples, then he speeds up, instead of kissing it he’s just flicking it with his tongue, running circles on it, sucking, and blowing on it afterwards. My moans grow louder, it’s too much, his touch is too much, and it’s about to be more. “So many nights I dreamt about this.” And without a warning one of his fingers goes into me, as he curls and moves it in and out, adding a second one and doing scissor motions, his lips now repeating the same actions from before but now on your nipples constantly switching between them. “Leon it’s too much- I-“ “Cum on my fingers.” I don’t need to be told twice and he just speeds up his ministrations as my legs shake.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good tonight baby, you’re never going to be the same.” I moan and twist his hair between my fingers. After I’m done he pulls out his fingers and licks them clean, “God how I’ve missed your taste.” And before I know it he’s between my thighs again like a starved man, curling his tongue inside and his hands massage my hips keeping them from bucking, his nose rubbing against my clit every once a while and his tongue runs over my walls like he can’t get enough, “Leon don’t stop please- you- you- feel so-“ My legs shaking again, thighs crushing his head and he groans, the vibrations going through my entire body. And as I come down from my high he’s licking every last drop, “So pretty when you cum” without warning he’s shoving his dick in me, one of his hands holding my legs on his shoulders and the other holding my hips, angling them up getting in even deeper, setting a sharp and quick pace. I pull him in with my legs, his hands now pressing my thighs to my chest and his lips meet mine for a messy kiss, both moaning into each other’s mouth the new angle has both of us seeing stars and I involuntary clench around him every once in a while making his knees buck, “Fuck, keep doing that and I won’t last.” “I don’t want you to last.” I scratch my nails on his back and his scalp, and he moans in my ear. “You sound so pretty when you moan.” And he blushes hiding his face in my neck, groaning and moaning. “I- I’m close- Leon-“ “Cum for me.” And I snap, my walls gripping him tighter than he could imagine, and he cums as well, his knees bucking and his body shivers on mine. His hands bruising my hips but I couldn’t care any less. After a few more seconds of him pistoning in and out he finally falters, and he lies on top of me for a while, now it’s just our heavy breathing and the long-forgotten CD still playing in the background. As he pulls out he lays his head on my chest and covers us both, I softly run my fingers along his hair, his own fingers drawing shapes on my skin. “I love you.” We both spoke simultaneously, “Jinx” “That’s not fair.” He jokingly frowns, “Nuh uh, can’t speak, I said jinx.” After some silence I speak up again. “Do you remember when we first met?” He just remains silent, “I know you’re awake.” “You said I couldn’t speak.” “Fine.” “Leon,” Saying his name slowly, a kiss on his forehead, “Leon,” repeating it even slower, a kiss on his nose, “Leon.” Barely above a whisper, a kiss on his lips, “I think about that night every day.” He replies. “Do you remember?” “Crystal clear.” The memories flooding back to me.

We met in a bar a day before the incident, a town outside of Raccoon City, I walked in “Can I get whiskey on rocks?” I ordered, and a voice came from next to me “Are you even old enough to drink?” The man was unbelievably good looking, but obviously out of it. “Excuse me? I fail to see how that’s any of your business.” “I’m a cop. It is my business.” He flashes his badge, “A drunk one. You’re no better than I am.” He chuckles “You didn’t answer my initial question.” “I did you just didn’t like my response.” “I could take you to jail right now.” “In that condition? You’d probably crash before we even got in the city.” “I can drive just fine.” “You sure? Because by the look of your dilated pupils, you’re either drunk or in love.” “Or?” he smirks, “As if.” The bartender is way too tired to pay attention to either and simply passes you the drink, you hand him cash, “You’re not even going to ID her? And they say we’re the corrupted ones.” “Listen here, if you’re just going to come in and talk shit with our customers then feel free to make your way out.” The bartender responds, of course, he’d have your back, you’ve been a regular for months. “Fine. I guess I will.” He stands up immediately feeling dizzy as he slightly stumbles out of the bar, I follow behind him I can’t afford such a handsome guy getting himself killed on the road. “Let me drive. You’ve obviously had too many and I’m sober.” “After that whiskey?” “Believe it or not some of us actually have a tolerance to alcohol. I didn’t finish it anyway.” He sighs outside his car, taking a moment to think, he puts his hand on his head and hands me the keys walking over to the passenger side.

“Where to?” “Any hotel nearby.” “Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you off at your house?” “Don’t have one.” It’s dark out and the road is empty other than the occasional gas station, “So… what brings you out here anyhow?” “To the bar or to the city?” “Both” “Mainly work, I’m starting my first day as a cop tomorrow in Raccoon City.” “Wow, I could’ve been your first arrest, lucky you.” “So you admit you’re underage” “I’m 20 alright lay off it, say you don’t look old enough to drink either.” “That’s because I’m 21.” “Aha! You’re no better than I am.” “At least I waited.” “First of all I call bullshit, and second of all getting wasted isn’t exactly waiting. You drank tonight more than I’ve drank in these past months. What about the bar? A celebration for your new job?” “My girlfriend broke up with me yesterday, needed a drink to forget. What about you? Do you go there often?” “I’m sorry to hear about your ex. Well, college is hard and family doesn’t make it easier so we all cope in some way or another.” “Ah family, I can relate to that.” “They didn’t want you to be a cop?” “They’re dead now but I’m sure they wouldn’t be proud. They were wrapped up in crime more often than not, a cop helped me out that night though, and helped me get into an orphanage.” “That’s sweet” he smiles, god he’s cute. “What are you studying in college?” “Mortuary science.” “Isn’t that just lovely.” I laugh and he looks at me with these huge puppy eyes. “Don’t think I’ve seen you smile this whole time, you’re pretty cute when you smile.” “Only when I smile? Good golly.” He laughs again, “Didn’t even deny it.” I whisper under my breath as I shake my head, “You’re always cute, you’re just too sassy for me to see it.” I just blush and keep quiet for the rest of the ride, turning on the radio to play some jazz quietly in the background as the rain starts pattering down the windshield. At one point he simply passes out, man is he adorable when he sleeps, his eyelashes are so thick, and his faint freckles are scattered around his cheeks and neck, man his ex must’ve been blind and deaf, don’t know how she could just give up on this cutie. As I see a nearby motel I notice the gas tank is close to empty and I park at the motel. “Excuse me how close is the nearest gas station?” “About 4 miles up north, but I wouldn’t recommend walking out there this late, with the heavy rain and the recent murders in the city it is too dangerous to be out.” “I’ll book two rooms then,” As I finish up paying I walk back out to the car to get the stranger, recent murders huh? What if he’s the killer? Nah he’s too sweet for that. He could be acting… I’m sure it’s fine. “Are you awake? I got you a room, seems we’ll have to be neighbors for the night since this car isn’t going anywhere.” No answer. Guess I’ll have to carry him, man he feels like a steel wall, god, I’m going to be sore tomorrow. After carrying him to his room and push him onto his bed his hand grabs onto mine, and he pull me onto the bed with him wrapping his arms around me, whispering a name, still very much asleep. After a while I manage to get his arm off of me and to my room as quietly as possible knocking out on my bed.

In the morning I wake up to the sound of the sound of knocking on the door, as I peek out I see the lady from last night, her husband is offering to drive me to the gas station and I quickly agree and get in his truck. The drive to was quiet filled with occasional small talk, on the ride back however, he stared asking more personal questions, putting his hand on my shoulder every once in a while. When he parked he kept the doors locked looking over at me as if he’d seen his first meal, “If you’d like, I can help you fill up” his tone lower and he leaned towards me, “No thank you, I’m running a bit late could you-“ “Listen princess, my wife is probably taking a nap right now and I think it’d be in both of our interest if we had a little fun.” I quickly move my hand and unlock the doors, but he grabs my wrist tightly before I can open it. “Let me go! My friend is a cop and he will arrest you!” He chuckles and my god it is the most disgusting sound I’ve ever heard. Oh yeah? Where’s this friend of yours at?” “Right here.” A familiar voice responds from behind the man as his door swings open and he gets pulled out of his seat, and before the man could even fully raise his fist he gets punched in the nose, falling back unconscious. Seriously badass. He quickly runs around to my side and opens the door, holding his hand out for me to take and I gladly do so. “Thank you.” I pull him into a hug and he reciprocates the action, after pulling away he holds his hand out “I’m Leon Kennedy, sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier.” I introduce myself and shake his hand. After filling up the tank we drove back to the bar, the same place I’d left my car the night before.

We stop at a diner to eat lunch, his treat of course since he turned out to be a gentleman, lending me his jacket when it got cold outside and walking me to my car as we said our goodbyes, both knowing we didn’t want to go our separate ways. I give him my phone number and he does the same, and with that I’m in my car alone, and he’s in his equally alone. It wasn’t until I got half way back home that I realized he’d forgotten his jacket, and I would’ve kept it if it didn’t contain his badge along with other belongings. Thankfully I knew he’d most likely be heading to the police station over at Raccoon City so that’s where I’d be going for the rest of the day, I didn’t have anything planned anyways so it’d be a fun roadtrip. By the time I was only half an hour out of the city it was already dark and I needed fuel stopping at a gas station which coincidentally had Leon’s car parked right outside it. I got out ready to surprise him when out of no where a bloodied woman came to my window banging her head against it, not knowing whether to help her or seek Leon inside the dark gas station I climb over the passenger seat and run towards the building turning back to see a swarm of them hurling towards me. As I turn an isle I walk into Leons back, he quickly turns pointing the gun right at my forehead, “DON’T SHOOT! IT’S ME!” He doesn’t even respond he just grabs my hand and leads me out to the nearby police cruiser which was luckily on. I get into the passenger seat and he gets into the drivers, quickly stepping on the gas pedal. After we were seemingly in the clear he speaks up “What were you doing there?” Not angry but obviously shaken by the experience, “You forgot your jacket, I was going to drive to RPD and leave it there but I spotted your car at the gas station.” He looks down at me, noticing the jacket still on me, “Oh, thank you.” I take it off and hold onto it for the rest of the ride, we were both quiet, trying to process what we’d just seen. Eventually stopping outside of another diner within the city. From then on it’s all just history. 

3 Years later (2008)

"Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer keeping yourself unto him for as long as you both shall live? If so, answer I do."

“I do.”

"Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer keeping yourself unto him for as long as you both shall live? If so, answer I do."

“I do”

“You may now kiss the bride” 

And with a searing kiss, we begin a new chapter in our lives.

AN: I pulled an all-nighter so please like and reblog 👏🏻😭

[aeligsido]

practice date

(so I got his idea and had to like, write it a bit. I may end up reworking it a bit and posting it on ao3 later if I feel like it. No particular two — just Remus being oblivious and Sirius, for once, missing the writing on the wall lmao.)

-

It all started because of fucking Frank Longbottom. He didn't know how or why, but Frank took Remus out on a date once during their fourth year — right before Frank and Alice started dating, too — and after that, Remus somehow became the most eligible person in all of Hogwarts. Even Slytherins ended up victims of this pandemic.

It pissed Sirius off. Remus was a kind person, sure, and adorable and pretty and smart and gentle and with a humor to die for and so much more mischievous than at first glance and definitely more than date worthy; but for some reason, those people only ever took him out once and then broke it off immediately after. They even started dating other people after! Properly dating, even, not just a trip to Hogsmeade followed by a goodbye-see-you-never, like they did to Remus. It wasn't fair. Remus deserved better than that — he deserved to be taken care of, to have someone to hold his hand and go to the bookstore with him and buy him his favorite apple pie. Not... that.

(Sirius could be this person for Remus.)

Last time, he went with Mary — again, because she was the exception to the rule and often went out with him without deeming him worthy to give him the title of boyfriend. Well. Five times. Five times was a lot! But, last time — last time they went to Madam Puddifoot together once more, but were back laughing at the Three Broomsticks pretty soon in the day, joining them for the rest of the trip. When they separated in the common room, Mary had kissed his cheek and thanked him with a sweet smile, but yet again nothing came out of it.

Sirius was pretty angry at her — at all of them, really. Why did they all feel necessary to play with Remus' heart like that?

He was sitting on his bed, now, on the eve of a new Hogsmead's weekend, angrily wondering who was taking Moony out this time — and perhaps who will be the next target of his pranks. James was going in and out of the bathroom, apparently doing a skincare routine (or something of the like) that managed to take longer than his usual morning routine. Peter was sitting on his bed as well, books open before him, taking notes probably for some homework. Remus was putting on the good shirt he usually wears for his dates.

"So," he started, gripping his pillow tightly. "Going out again, Moony?"

"Hm?" Remus raised his head to address him with a smile. "Yeah, I think it'll be fun."

He was always saying that.

"Who you're going with?"

"Me!" cheered James from the bathroom door.

Sirius blinked. Because, he couldn't have heard that — right? James — his best friend, the other half of his soul — could not do that to him, to Remus?

Peter looked up, suddenly more interested.

Remus smiled indulgently. "Hence the it's going to be fun, you know?"

"But—" Sirius didn't have the time to formulate everything in him — the pit in his stomach and in his heart and the bubbling, ugly feelings taking a hold on his throat — that Moony was already interrupting him.

"Don't worry, Pads. I'll send him back to you at five o'clock sharp." He winked, then, as if it was Sirius' concern at the moment.

"I've been told Moony's the best at it," continued James, apparently ignoring the chaos choking Sirius up. "Our boy comes highly recommended!" He blew up a kiss in Remus' direction, who just shook his head fondly.

"Recommended?" Sirius finally croaked out, trying to make sense of the whole thing.

James properly got out of the bathroom, then, taking a look at him with concern on his face. "You know? For the practice date? Before my real date with Lily next week?" His expression turned dreamy for a moment. "I can't believe I have a date with her," he sighed happily.

Shuffling closer to them, Remus lowered his voice. "I have a practice date with Lily after James. She was pretty anxious when she asked me." He smiled, then, again, as if nothing could make him happier than being a practice date.

Was that what he had been doing this whole time? Giving people practice dates?

Sirius frowned. Remus having so many one-time dates didn't sit well with him, but having so many practice dates didn't seem really fair either.

"How many were real?"

"How many what were real?" asked Remus, confused.

"You know, the dates."

Remus let out a short, surprised laugh. Sirius pursued his lips, unamused, and Remus calmed down at his unusual gravity.

"None? It's not like anyone would want to really date me, anyway." He gestured to himself, as if it was explanation enough — which it wasn't, Sirius wanted to date this whole... Remusness, thank you very much. Remus was amazing, why wouldn't people want to date him?

Sirius couldn't answer — it didn't know if he could actually say anything to that. Remus got distracted by James, anyway, and soon they were leaving them behind for their practice date.

Sirius put his face into his pillow and let out an angry yell.

From his bed, Peter turned a page of his book, utterly unbothered but still a cheeky bastard. The clear amusement in his next words was proof enough of it.

"So, do you want me to be your practice date for when Moony'll realize you're trying to ask him out, or you'll take Prongs?"

Sirius threw the pillow at him.