#i want to open my childhood like a book and jump right in

[chickpea0]

Trying so hard not to yearn too hard for the past because maladaptive nostalgia is not something you want to encourage but it's got hands

[uglypastels]

Meeting the Parents / e.m.

a/n: I told myself I would write at least one, so here is my little submission for @littlexdeaths Twelve Days of Promptmas. As it's the fifth, this is for the Day Five Prompt, "Meet the parents... with a twist." So, I hope you enjoy! and Happy Holidays!!

word count: 2k

warning: just fluff and laughs, a bit of anxiety, maybe cursing? mention of drinking alcohol.

‘Wha-what are you wearing?’ you put the book you had been so entranced with down at the sight of your boyfriend. Eddie looked down at himself as if he did not know the answer to your question either, which very well might have been the case. You could easily imagine he had been abducted by aliens, his memory wiped as they dressed him up in this concoction and placed him right back down in the room. Poof. None the wiser but the hideous sweater vest adorning his chest. 

‘You don’t like it?’ He looked back up at you, big brown eyes surrounded by wrinkles of worry. 

‘Understatement of the year, babe.’ You suppressed a small laugh. ‘Where did you even get that?’ You were too far away to tell, but the brown-grey vest looked like it smelled of mothballs. It could not have come from anywhere else but a 30-year-old dusty box from a mouldy attic.  

‘It was my uncle’s.’ He scratched the back of his head, which was now far more accessible since he had his hair tied up in a politely loose ponytail. ‘Didn’t have much else to wear…’ 

‘How about literally anything else?’ This time, the smile had the better of you, and you could not help but laugh a little as you got up to inspect your boyfriend’s outfit in more detail. ‘You really don’t need to do all this, Ed.’ 

‘I just want to make a good first impression.’ He sighed, unbuttoning the vest to reveal an even tighter buttoned-up crisp white shirt. Defeated, he took the vest off and handed it over to you. The material was so scratchy you were surprised he had not broken out into hives from irritation… and indeed, it smelled of musty attics. You placed the cursed clothing item to the side, on top of an armchair.

"I think it’s more important that you can breathe," you said, opening the top button of his shirt. For good measure, you opened the next one. It was casual, you thought, nice, but Eddie must have peeked at his reflection in the mirror across the room as his eyes went wide, and he quickly went up to close the gap in his shirt again. 

‘Please, it’s just my parents. A bit of skin won’t kill them.’ You poked the dimple in his cheek. ‘Besides, the tattoos are visible through the shirt anyway, if that’s what you’re worried about, you dork.’ 

‘Shit.’ Eddie cursed out, immediately looking down at his arms where, indeed, the grey ink seeped through the white cotton material. Not a lot, but enough to see that Eddie wasn’t your conventional pretty white boy. If the long rowdy hair and piercings weren’t enough of a hint. ‘I might have a black shirt somewhere–’ You could see the spirals dwindling in his mind, but before he could jump into action and make an even bigger mess of the closet, you pulled his face up to you, holding his cheeks tightly in your hands, letting his lips form into a big pout as he stared at you in bewilderment. 

‘Eddie. It’s ok.’ You had never thought you had made your parents out to be such conservatives. Quite the opposite, you had thought, having told Eddie countless stories of your parents acting insane and totally shameless. But perhaps, compared to what Eddie had grown up with, your white picket fence childhood was still uncharted territory for him. 

You kissed the tip of his nose. ‘They’ll love you. I know it.’ It was already silly that it had taken you so long to meet, but having met in college, your dorms only a few corridors apart, there never was much of a chance for Eddie to come into contact with your family, but now that you had graduated and officially decided that, yes, all that flirting and friendly hookups cuddle nights were perhaps a bit more than “just friends”. So, when the holidays came around, you had come up with the crazy brilliant idea to have dinner. Just a little get-together with your parents and boyfriend a few days before the big ol’ X-day. Then, maybe, if things went well, you could bring him over for the actual holiday and let him meet the rest of the gang… Although if this was how Eddie was acting over just your parents… he would probably go into cardiac arrest trying to figure out what to wear for your grandma. 

‘Count to five,’ you suggested, ‘take a few deep breaths, then count to five again.’ You watched Eddie do as you told him, his minty freshly-brushed breath softly hitting your skin as he exhaled. ‘It’s gonna be alright,’ you reassured him for a final time. ‘Just make sure to take the wine out of the fridge before you go.’ 

— 

‘I can’t believe I forgot the fucking wine.’ Eddie looked like he was on the verge of passing out, his knuckles turning white from how tightly he was holding the steering wheel. ‘Maybe I can still go home and get it. Or is there like a store nearby? I got some cash–’ 

‘It’s not a big deal.’ You said for the fifth time, already having regretted ever getting the idea of gifting your parents a bottle of wine, giving Eddie one more thing to worry about. You kept sure to keep an eye on him for the rest of the drive there, up until he put the car in park and pulled the key out of the ignition at your parent’s driveway. Usually, it would have been your boyfriend to rush out of the car to open the door for you, but this time you took it upon yourself, feeling a sense that if he were to stand up by himself, his legs would not remain that stable for much longer. With each step you took, you began regretting the entire ordeal. Then again, if Eddie were to pass out on your parents’ porch, the panic of rushing him to a hospital would busy their minds too much to find any points of critique on the guy… not that they would in the first place! You were sure your parents would love him. They got to. Eddie was the sweetest guy you had ever met, let alone brought home [of which, there might have been a few, but he did not need to know that.] 

You were so busy keeping him up straight that you did not even have the time to take in the view of your former front yard. Memories of snow days, Christmas Eves, and New Year's nights spent watching the fireworks. The usually green yard was covered in a thick layer of freshly fallen snow, only disturbed by the protrusions of large lit-up decorations standing around. The snowman waved passersby merrily along with his flock of plastic reindeer, but it was nothing compared to the golden glow of lights that covered nearly every inch of the house. With the wreath across the door, it all looked like an image straight out of a picture book. 

You gave Eddie’s hand a tight squeeze before ringing the doorbell. The footsteps inside had almost emerged before you had pressed your finger on the button, but you could hear them scurrying in excitement across the hallway. 

‘They’ll love you,’ you quickly told Eddie before the door opened to reveal your squealing mother. 

‘Aaahh! Come in, come in. You must be freezing.’ She ushered you both inside, red frilly apron covering a nice sweater. ‘Your dad is just getting some beers from the garage, he’ll be back in a second– and you,’ she turned with even more excitement towards Eddie, who seemed to have gotten a case of horrible lockjaw the way his smile tensed. ‘You must be the charming man we have heard so much about!’ 

‘Mom!’ You looked at her in horror, knowing your mother took her hobby of embarrassing you very seriously. But it also did not go unnoticed that the remark thawed a bit of Eddie’s nerves.

‘Hi Mrs—’ 

‘Oh, don’t be silly. Call me Jody.’ Your mom reassured him with a sweet smile before briefly turning her head in the direction of the garage door, ‘Stan! They’re here!’ 

‘I’m coming, I’m coming,’ your father jogged up to the hallways, hands filled with cooled beer bottles. You immediately noticed that he had let his hair grow out again since the last time you had seen him, and though he had done it before in your childhood, something gave you the idea that he might have done it with your boyfriend in mind. 

‘Where’s my little peppermint munchkin?’ He rushed to you with a tight hug that you could not even try to object. 

‘Hi dad,’ you cringed at the childhood, holiday-exclusive nickname and was already expecting Eddie to start laughing at the moniker, except when you pulled away from your father’s embrace and took a look at your boyfriend, the poor guy once again looked like he was about to faint. But not in the sense of panic as he had been the past week, or really ever since you had suggested for him to meet your parents. No, he looked like he had just seen a ghost. His eyes were wide in shock. Mouth slightly agape as he tried to muster out the words. 

‘Eddie?’ You quickly walked back up to him, ‘are you ok?’

‘Mhm,’ he nodded, but the sound he made was like a little mouse’s whimper. 

‘Okay,’ unsure, you tried to just diminish the tension between everyone in the room. ‘Right, well, dad, this is Eddie. Eddie this is my father–’

‘Sorry,’ finally, the words seemed to burst out of Eddie’s mouth, whether he had wanted them to or not. ‘Are you—’ he laughed nervously, looking at your father. ‘Are you the Stan Caldwell? From The Modern Judgement?’ 

As if suddenly overcome with uncharacteristic bashfulness, your father grinned and shrugged. ‘Guilty as charges.’

‘No fu–’ Eddie held himself back, still slightly mindful of who he was in the presence of, not that it mattered, ‘That is unbelievable. I love your albums.’

‘That’s sweet of you, kid.’ Your father, who had heard this schtick a few too many times from your previous romantic prospects, accepted the compliments, but you nudged Eddie a bit more into his good side.’

‘No, dad, he means it. He listens to Bury the Living like, all the time,’ you roll your eyes as Eddie shoots you an embarrassed glare, but it was all true. He listened to the band’s debut album without even realising he had been sleeping with the frontman’s daughter for the past one and a half years… not that that was information that needed to be shared with anyone in the room. 

‘What’s your favourite song?’ Your dad, now intrigued but mostly amused, raised a brow awaiting the make-or-break answer. 

‘Colossus, easy. But specifically, the demo version you released a few years back. The sound of the guitar on that is just-.’ Eddie replied, finishing his remark off with a chef's kiss, eyes filled with stars as he answered the question, ignoring you mouthing along the words he had repeated to you every time you listened to the song. 

‘Well, well, well, looks like you’ve finally found yourself a decent one, munchkin.’ Your dad laughed, grabbing Eddie by the shoulder and pulling him towards what you could only expect was the direction of his little at-home studio. ‘Let me show you the guitar I recorded the song on.’

‘No way,’ Eddie squealed like a little kid in a candy store. 

As you watched the two men disappear into the room, your mother came to stand by your side, giggling softly. ‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell him.’

‘I know I should have but I was kind of hoping to avoid…’ You were interrupted by the sounds of a guitar riff and more of Eddie’s excited exclamations. ‘Well… that.’ 

‘Let them have their fun.’ Your mom smiled, shaking her head. ‘Now come, I still need some help with dinner. I would ask your dad but…’ She didn’t have to explain. It was more than obvious that those two were not going anywhere. 

Unbelievable. You finally found yourself a nice guy, just for your dad to steal him from you. 

the end.

thank you for reading. let me know what you thought <3

[merumis]

kuroo loves thunderstorms.

the first time he tells you this, he's standing just before the threshold of your balcony—the door cracked open but the screen still closed, feeling the wind curl its way around your building.

it's early november and he's wearing a sweater you gifted him last christmas. you bought it two sizes too big and he insisted on wearing it again the moment the weather started to get colder anyway. it's a rich blue and warm and soft enough that you constantly find yourself leaning into him—on the couch, in public, even before your balcony's screen door—sometimes you wonder if he wears it just for that.

between that and the way your cat swirls around his feet, his tail dragging along kuroo's calf, he seems to almost melt into your apartment. your first place post-grad, that weird mix of childhood, college, and new-adult decor muddling the whole of it: a couch that you got at a discount furniture store but fell in love with anyway; stuffed animals your friends send you every birthday; a childhood favorite of a book sitting on an old thrifted coffee table, a dark oak that you wouldn't be able to afford otherwise.

and kuroo. warm, thunderstorm-watching kuroo, whose mug of herbal tea has been long forgotten on one of your homemade coasters.

you're never quite sure what to call him. the man you sleep with some nights; the guy who will always match your halloween costume if you ask; your cat's favorite of your friends; the name your grandmother keeps asking you about every time you call. you know you told you him you loved him once—really loved him—in some drunken college stupor that feels more like watching a movie from across an open-concept's kitchen island than a memory now.

(that's a lie. you know every detail. the rum warm in your throat, being fresh off the high of his birthday. it was the first snow of the season but the rain the next day mingled with it and turned it to muck that ruined your favorite pair of boots. his breath was hot against your cheeks, the stoop of his apartment building a hollowly adored wind tunnel that decorated your instagram—stone chipped away at the corners, moss growing up the sides, a buzzer that only worked if you pressed the button three times. you kissed him like you always have and his nose was cold as it pressed into your cheek. you whispered it to him and he laughed. you didn't text him for three days.)

there's a familiar pull at your tongue now. a burst of lightning briefly illuminates your apartment and is then followed by the crack of thunder.

"you should probably close the door," you say—instead of i love you.

kuroo shrugs, turns back with a lazy smile on his face. "if you say so," he replies, like every word is a game that the two of you play. he swings the door closed and twists the lock shut. he moves in a way you want to describe as "moseying" tonight, like all of his limbs are relaxed four times more than they should be.

"you should stay here tonight," you tell him as he moves to your couch. your cat follows after him, pawing up his leg as he sits down. he jumps up and settles deep into his lap—there's a brief moment where you envy him. "rain and all."

"so you're telling me i brought my umbrella for nothing?" he teases.

you laugh. "you can use it on the balcony."

he has a pair of sweatpants in your top right drawer of your dresser. you reluctantly washed them last week after spilling apricot jam on the third wear. you never choose to dwell on how a pair of sweatpants gets left at your apartment—you can imagine what his answer would be.

kuroo hums, "it's almost like you want me here."

"i don't," you lie, "just figured my apartment had a better storm view with how much you've been lingering." his apartment is about four stories higher, a few blocks down—closer to his work. it has more windows, a larger living room, a leather couch that you can feel sticking to your bare back if you close your eyes.

it's the better view. it gets fog in the early mornings so you can only see the bounce of headlights from the street below. his bedsheets like to twist between your legs at night in a way that pulls them from the mattress, though—so you suppose you always win there.

"it's homey here," he replies, and you feel the smile tugging up at your lips, "smells like spruce." he eyes the candle he bought you on your kitchen counter, lit and melted to the edges. three wicks, because he knows it's your favorite.

the candle, your favorite expensive lamp your professor gifted you last summer, and the range hood are the only lights in your apartment at the moment. kuroo calls them homey, you call them headache-reducing.

he pulls a hand away from your cat to gesture towards you over the back of the couch now. a palm upwards towards the ceiling, fingers outstretched in a subtle beckoning of your own. your tongue curls with that sickly desire as you step towards him, slip your fingers into his as you round the couch, settling into the cushions as his arm slides across your shoulders.

you reach up to play with his fingers—absent-mindedly. you swore you would do better when you graduated, that maybe things would start to fall into place and, for once, you wouldn't find yourself chasing after a man you could have if you would just allow it to happen.

but you don't know how to say i love you on a thursday—because you swear friday will feel right. you don't say it friday because it's too young, a whole weekend ahead of you that you can't mess up. a movie on saturday, brunch on sunday. you don't say it sunday night because you won't see him until wednesday, but then you catch him for happy hour on tuesday. and you don't know how to to say it.

"you know my grandfather loved spruce," kuroo says, and you look over to catch his eye. he's staring out at your coffee table, looking at nothing in particular as he speaks. "he used to whittle—before arthritis and tremors and whatever—but his dad told him that spruce was the hardest to work with. something about how soft it is or the grain or whatever." he shifts with your cat, letting him crawl up his arm onto the back of the couch. his tail falls over kuroo's shoulder, and now you get the curl into him a little more.

he pulls you closer before you really get the chance to move.

"but he always loved spruce. the smell, the needles, the look, all of it, you know? it was just one of those things, so he learned to whittle with it.

"and when he met my grandmother, he started whittling her all these little things. a duck for their first date, a wooden box for her jewelry, eventually toy blocks, when she was pregnant with my dad." kuroo pauses, and for a while, you think you have something stuck in your chest. you thumb traces up his forefinger and he catches your hand, finally moving to look you in the eyes.

"it's nice to come here and remember him sometimes."

there's another burst of lightning and it crackles across the whole sky behind him, dodging in and out of buildings and making the texture of the clouds pop out against the whole open expanse of it all.

his breath is hot against your skin, his ears are tinged with a bit of red and for a moment you consider running to your thermostat to turn it down a few degrees, but then his lips find yours like they always do.

and in the muddle of lips, you don't even think before you whisper an i love you, murmured into his mouth as his nose traces frigid shapes against your own.

you don't have to listen to know he says it back—though you do, listening for the timbre of his voice and feeling the vibrato of it against your throat—but you can smell it, you can hear it, some days, you can taste it.

spruce-scented candles, thunderstorms that make the whole city colder, the burning of rum against the back of your throat.

you think you can feel it: leather that sticks to your skin, hands that only whittled while his grandfather was alive, but are calloused anyway, a sweater that you'd buy him in the right size if he asked.

you tell someone you love them without ever saying the words. you know he drinks three drinks at happy hour and you only have one—he insists on walking you home anyway and he always stays the night.

and you know he never brought an umbrella, that he works from home tomorrow and his laptop is sitting in his backpack next to your door.

you know that he's warm, that he's kissing you, and that he told you he loves you on the thursday evening as a thunderstorm turned into rain and fog.

[yandere-sins]

Yan-Poll #9

[The Stalker Part 1]

Strange things have been happening to you lately.

It started small with the discomfort of always feeling like you were being watched. Of course, you never met someone's eyes when you turned around, and you tried to brush it off as best as you could. But even when you started minimalizing your time outdoors, unexplainable things started to happen in your own house. Things were moved when you weren't looking, the space next to you in your bed was warm when you woke up, and you found strange devices around the house that you couldn't explain.

You went to the police, but there was nothing they could do.

So you installed cameras, and lo and behold, there he was. The creep that had intruded into your life. It didn't even take him a day of caution before you watched on your computer as the black silhoutte stared directly into the camera, his eyes hidden behind a black mask. He made a heart gesture with his hands before breaking into your bedroom window in the early hours of the morning, seemingly with ease. As if he knew what he was doing. Unafraid.

There was no way you could have stayed in the house. But even when you moved from your childhood home to your friends home, your stalker made sure you noticed that he was still around, one way or another. Worse, even with the footage, the police was still unable to catch him.

Feeling defeated and scared, you eventually mustered the strength to go home. Even with him making his presence known, he hadn't done anything to you, and somehow you had to look forward into the future and reclaim the life that his terror had stolen from you.

Everything was clean and tidy, unlike you expected. You found some things out of place, like books that didn't belong in certain shelves, but it definitely looked like he had tried to arrange them correctly, but wasn't sure where they went. It made you smile faintly as you took out your favorite childhood book. But only for a brief moment before you stuffed the book right back into the actual place it belonged and tried to get used to the old but new enviroment of your own home.

Until the door rang.

You didn't expect any visitors. Up to this point, you two had never interacted. At least, nothing more than the few stare-offs through the camera. Yet... you knew it was him.

You braced yourself, your phone clutched in your hand while you grabbed an umbrella standing in the entrance. Things could get messy quickly, but maybe if you were able to just let him know you didn't want anything from him, maybe he could be reasoned with. With bated breath you unlocked one of the locks you had installed on your door, just enough to open a gap, and gathering all your courage you opened it, only to find...

Nothing. Well, not nothing. Just no one.

You stood there for a while, contemplating what was going on, when your gaze fell to the ground, a stark white envelop resting there. You waited for a moment more, expecting someone to jump out if you weren't looking. But eventually, you squatted down, fishing the envelop through the gap and closing it again. Nervously, you messed with the opening until you could pull out the paper inside.

Welcome home, baby! :) Please wear the clothes I put into the closet for you tomorrow ♥ Can't wait to see you in them!

Feeling a sense of panic, you got up, hurriedly walking into your bedroom and throwing open the closet doors. All your clothes had vanished, only a small, neatly-folded pile sat in one of the shelves, a post-it on them.

P.S. I'm glad my little mishap with the book made you smile. I'll do anything to see you smile ♥

Goosebumps ran over your whole body as you realized he must have just been here if he saw you smile briefly just minutes ago and then placed the note here. Maybe he still was? You stopped breathing, listening intensely if there were any other sounds you hadn't noticed before. Your home was silent.

Hesitantly, you pulled out the clothes he had prepare. Soft, expensive, skimpy. The outfit your stalker put together was much too raunchy for your taste but it would still work even in an office setting. You'd be covered with trousers and a blazer, but the top that was supposed to act like a shirt was see-through and lacey as if it was lingerie. You were sure to turn some heads if you wore it to your job.

Refusing him didn't seem to have any immediate consequences, but at the same time, after already being terrorized for so long, could you really refuse such a small request? Certainly, it would prompt him to get bolder... But at the same time, despite showcasing he could, he never confronted you. There was no saying if refusing him would cause any issues, even if it seemed likely. But maybe you had just become incredible paranoid.

(Reasoning and discussions welcome! ♥)

[mrs-ashengrotto]

Pining Thoughts

Oh that poor, unfortunate soul. Azul just can't seem to get you out of his head, now can he? And trust, it's driving him absolutely insane.

Fluff! Gender neutral y/n. About 8kish words?

Canon story event context!!: this story builds off of and directly branches off from the visit to the Atlantica Memorial Museum at the end of Book 3, and the conversation the prefect and Azul have when Azul goes to return the photo. The lines that I use at the beginning are pulled directly from the entwst translated dialogue! Basically, he takes what you said to heart, a lil too much

~~~

“You’re amazing as it is, even without stealing anyone else’s powers.”

“What…?”

“Your incredible diligence is so rare, it left the headmage at a loss.”

“You…you think?”

“Heh…you needn’t try so hard to butter me up.”

~~~

It had been about a month since that trip down to the Atlantica Memorial Museum to return Azul’s childhood photo. About a month since that conversation had taken place between you and Azul, away from the rest of the group. You two had walked side by side, as Azul had poured his heart out to you. 

“The Sea Witch never hid her past misdeeds. She worked hard to restore her reputation, and earned the people's respect that way. I kept saying I wanted to be like her… but in the end, I couldn’t accept my own past. I kept rejecting it.” 

Azul hunches over his unfinished paperwork, remembering those vulnerable words that spilled from his mouth. He runs his hand through his already messy, light gray, wavy hair, letting out a deep, heavy sigh. 

“…How stupid.” he mutters.

How could he have said all that to you? Seriously, what in his right mind compelled him to say something so…so…weak. To you. 

But, in actuality, that part of the whole interaction consumed the least of his mind, what really had Azul in turmoil was your response. 

Amazing..? Incredible…? My diligence…? 

Those sweet compliments rang in his mind, day and night those two sentences replayed over and over in his mind, the way you looked at him with full sincerity in your eyes as you said it. Your voice contained no malice, no ulterior motives…only compassion.

That’s something he wasn’t used to.

And it was driving him insane.

You’d been so kind to him through it all. The overblot. God, he could’ve killed you. And yet here you were, still smiling at him, complimenting him, treating him like he was…normal. Like a friend.

Azul’s purple bow tie of his dorm uniform was undone, hanging over his neck loosely. The top button of his white dress shirt was unbuttoned. His black vest and coat were thrown messily over the back of his chair as he sits at his desk in the VIP Room of the Mostro Lounge, and his black fedora was thrown on the floor next to him. Azul closes his eyes as he leans back in his chair, tilting his head back and stretching his legs out under his desk. 

So what if you had given him a few compliments? It was just some words. People get compliments all the time. It didn’t mean anything. 

And still, he could not get them out of his head. He could not get you out of his head.

Why??? Why couldn’t he stop thinking about you?? Azul let’s out another deep sigh as he opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling, trying to push the thoughts away. But one thought manages to slip through:

… are they thinking about me too?

“Hah…” Azul let’s out a breathy laugh and softly shakes his head, “What a stupid thought. Of course they're not. This is me overthinking… that’s all.” 

And with that final push away from his thoughts, Azul straightens up and looks back down at his work, picking up his pen as he continues his tasks. But as he writes, his hand gliding across the paper, he just can’t shake that underlying feeling…a tingling sensation in his chest…that always seems to linger when he thinks of you. 

…

“AWWWWW YEAH. I AM STARVING!!!!”

Azul jumps upright in his seat, pulled from his thoughts. He knew that voice, it was the voice of Grim, that cat-like monster, or whatever the hell he is. He seemed to have just entered the Mostro Lounge.

That damn cat’s always so obnoxiously loud, Azul thought. 

Suddenly, Azul’s heart drops, his face turning ghastly pale. 

Wait… Grim. That must mean… the prefect is here as well.

Azul drops his pen to the floor, rushing over to the little window of the VIP lounge, moving the curtain just enough to see a sliver of the general dining area of the Mostro Lounge. Sure enough, there you were with Grim, along with the other first-years you were usually around, Ace and Deuce. 

Azul pulls back from the curtain quickly, looking around for his vest and jacket. In a frenzy, he throws them on, as well as ties and straightens out his bow tie. He slips on his gloves. His heart pounds.

After somewhat composing himself, he opens the door of the VIP Lounge, making his way over to you and your group. On his way, he catches a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the large fish tank wall of the lounge, noticing a small piece of hair sticking up. He quickly goes to brush it down with his hand. In the reflection, he can see his hand shaking. He sharply turns his head away from the reflection. Come on Azul. Pull yourself together.

Azul finally reaches the group of first-years, clearing his throat.

“Why, if it isn’t the most famous first-years of Night Raven College! Gracing us with your presence here at my humble Mostro Lounge today, are we?” 

“Hi!” You say cheerfully to Azul, smiling and waving at him, stepping a foot closer.

Azul stops in his tracks, freezing as though someone held a remote to him and pressed the pause button. 

“H-hello!” Azul’s voice cracks as he pushes out a greeting. “Y/N, I’m glad to see you’re- um- doing well!” 

You nod slightly, “Mhm, yes. You too.” 

Azul smiles, letting out an awkward, nervous chuckle, looking at you for a…slightly uncomfortable amount of time? 

“...Um…think we could get seated? Please?”

“OH! Oh!! Yes!! Of course! Right this way, right this way” Azul jumps a bit, your request snapping him out of his trance. Finally, he moves from his place, waving frantically for you and your group to sit at a booth. “Ahem, might I get you some menus?” 

“Please, thank you.” You respond politely. Azul quickly grabs four menus, placing them on the table. “I’ll have one of my employees come over to act as your waiter immediately” Azul says, still only looking at you. Now that you think about it, he hasn’t even glanced at the others. “E-enjoy!” He exclaims. 

Oh, but he’s not done making a fool of himself yet.

Awkwardly, he continues to linger at the edge of your table. After a couple seconds, he tentatively asks “Um…I trust I’ll be seeing you in club this week, Y/N?” 

“Uhh…yeah. Probably.” You nod.  

Azul smiles and bows his head quickly, backing up a bit “E-excellent, see you then”. Suddenly, he stumbles as he walks back, nearly tripping over the ornamental rug on the floor. The stumble causes his already slipping glasses to fall to the floor. 

I have GOT to move that rug. 

“O-oh! Are you okay?” You lift up a hand as his glasses clatter on the ground.

“I’m fine! I’m perfectly fine! Worry not of me! Enjoy your meal!” Azul spits out, letting out a small, constrained laugh, reaching his hand down to pick up the glasses. He hastily places them on his nose, resulting in them resting in a crooked position on his face. Smiling awkwardly and taking one final, small bow to you, he scurries away back into the VIP Lounge.

…

Silence suffocates the table.

“…What the fuck was that?” Ace says, breaking the silence.

“He was…really nice?” Deuce, looking utterly confused. 

“More like…really weird. Why was he being so awkward?? Isn’t his whole gimmick… like… being smooth?” 

You look at Ace and Deuce, nodding in agreement, “Yeah…that was kinda odd I’m not gonna lie…” you shrug “I dunno”. It was kinda cute though, you think to yourself. Of course, you’d never say that out loud. Especially not to these three.

You definitely liked Azul. But he definitely does not like you back. All that man has feelings for are the scrolls in his desk. That’s the conclusion you had come to, anyways. 

“I DON’T care. I just want food. Come on, come on! Figure out what you want so we can order already!!!” Grim says, pushing the menu into your face.

“OKAY, okay. Damn.” You snatch the menu from Grim.

~~~

Meanwhile, Azul’s sweating bullets in the VIP Lounge.

What the HELL was I doing out there???!!??!

Azul sits in the corner of the room, his head in his hands.

I was so…weird!! What if they dislike me now?? Oh god… how humiliating… they'll avoid me now! They're going to avoid me! No no no… maybe I could trick them into signing a contract that’ll make them not avoid me? Reverse restraining order? NO. Azul! What are you THINKING?

Azul buries his face in his clammy hands, which are now ungloved. His glasses are strewn on the floor next to him as he sits in a tight ball. If only he hadn’t left his octopot in his dorm room. He’d be curled up in there right now.

“Well, what do we have here?”

Azul’s head shoots up to see none other than Jade Leech standing at the doorway.

“How many times have I told you to KNOCK, Jade.” Azul says angrily. “Didn’t I take away your key???”

“Haha…of course…my apologies. And the key is irrelevant”. Jade puts on his sharp-toothed grin, indiciating he’s really anything but sorry. “I just couldn’t help but address that spectacle you put on out there. Quite the show, really.” 

“QUIET! I-I..!” Azul tries to push out an explanation, but comes up empty handed, throwing his head back into the palms of his hands. He entangles his hands in his hair, staring down into his lap.

“Mmm…who would've thought. What used to be that chubby little octopus has a crush now! Why, they grow up too fast.”

Now this catches Azul’s attention. Not only does his head shoot up, his whole body lifts as he pulls himself to a standing pushing. “CRUSH? Nonsense! I don’t have a crush! What a…a…a  childish idea Jade!” 

“Well, it appeared that way to me.” Jade says, voice unwavering. Jade was so calm…almost condescending (average Jade demeanor).

Azul waves his hands frantically, damn near throwing a tantrum, “And WHAT in your right mind would make you think that? Huh? Because I was a bit clumsy?” Azul’s eyes are wide as his pale face turns red. From anger? Or embarrassment? Maybe both?

“Okay! I’ll admit it! I wasn’t as put together as I usually am out there. I just…was taken by surprise! But it has nothing to do with…any…romantic feelings…” Azul’s voice fades away as he turns his head away from Jade, his hands falling down to his sides. His face bright red, he looks incredibly conflicted, almost ashamed. 

“Azul. I’ve known you for quite a long time. It truly is useless attempting to hide how you feel from me. You do understand this, yes?”

Azul maintains his gaze away from Jade for a few seconds. Then, he lets out a sigh, as he tentatively turns his head back to Jade.

And oh, and does that boy look defeated. 

The best way to describe the look in Azul’s eyes is…longing. His eyebrows are furrowed slightly. The bags under his eyes are enough to tell Jade the toll this whole ordeal has taken on him. 

Azul walks over to his desk, falling into the chair behind it. He puts his elbows on the table, once more placing his face in the palm of his hands as he leans forward. 

“Ok. Alright. You’re right Jade. Yes? Does that satisfy you and your nosiness? I like them, Jade. You win.” Azul winces slightly at those last couple words. Hearing them come from his own mouth was painful.

Jade finally steps away from the doorway and takes a seat in front of Azul’s desk, opposite him. 

“Huh. I’m surprised. I thought it would’ve taken more than that to get you to confess” Jade smirks as he sits upright in the chair. Looking smug, even. 

With no energy left to combat Jade’s remarks, Azul waves his hand in defeat, the other hand remaining on his face to prop his head up as he looks down at the desk.

“And why? Why go so out of your way to put me through this…” Azul’s eyebrows furrow once more “this”. Azul’s chest feels heavy, and it’s difficult to breathe. Not giving Jade a chance to respond, Azul lifts his head, and in a frustrated tone, he begins a tangent.

“Huh? Well? Now what Jade? What do you propose I do with these… feelings?” That last word has a sharpness to it, a fond disliking. “This confession serves no purpose! They obviously doesn’t like me back, Jade. You understand what that would do to my reputation? To be rejected? By the prefect of all people? Shit, they've got more influence than me at this school. They could destroy me” Though I’d never admit that to their face “I… I can’t lose her.”

I know enough about risk. I’ve made my fair share of deals, I’ve signed my fair share of contracts. To put something so…precious…on the line for these stupid emotions. It’s simply not an option.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“What do you mean, Jade?” Azul breaks away from his thoughts, looking up to meet Jade’s eyes, voice dripping in frustration. .

“I wouldn’t be so sure about they're feelings, Azul. Have you asked?”

“N-no! No! I couldn’t! …Jade, are you suggesting that they may…” Azul’s eyes are wide, waiting expectantly for an answer to leave Jade’s mouth.

“A moment, Azul” Jade lifts his hands, indicating the need to slow down,  “All I’m saying is, I wouldn’t be so sure. I never said that they do. That’s something you’d need to figure out.”

At this, Azul drops his head once more, shaking his head, “Jade. I can’t.”

“...Fine, just let them get snatched up by some other man then” Jade states dismissively.

“…What?”

“What? You think they'll wait around forever for you?”

….

“It’s merely a suggestion Azul. Furthermore, I recommend you take action fast. They've got quite a few friends you know. On the good side of many. They're quite… compassionate” Azul flinches at this remark. Jade notices, and lets out a small chuckle “Though, I’m sure you know that quite well already. So, I do hope you are not taken by surprise when someone…how do they say… ‘beats you to the punch’.”

Azul’s face turns ghastly white. 

“Anyways Azul” Jade lifts himself from the chair, straightening out his coat, “I’ll leave you to it. I’m sure you’ve got a lot of…work… to do. I’d hate to get in the way. Good day”. He shows that sharp-toothed grin once more, looking quite pleased with himself as he turns to walk out the door.

Azul sits in silence, those previous words still ringing in his mind.

Beats me…to the punch? Another man? 

Jade’s shoes click on the floor as he approaches the door. He opens it, but stops to leave Azul with some final words of suggestion…

“Might I suggest, a gift?”

“…a gift?” Azul squeaks out. He lifts his eyes, if only slightly, to look at Jade. His entire body feels heavy, as though he hadn’t slept in weeks. Because he really hadn’t. 

Jade nods, “Precisely. A gift. A physical manifestation of your…’appreciation’”.

Azul blankly stares at Jade.

“Again, it’s merely a suggestion. Do what you will with it.” 

With that, Jade closes the door, and with a click, it shuts.

And so, Azul is alone once more, left with his thoughts. 

A gift huh… Azul pulls out his phone to glance at the time. A gift…  I might just have enough time…yes…perhaps this…this could work…?

~~~ 

The setting sun shines through the windows onto the deck of cards in front of you. You and Idia, the fiery-haired third year, sit across from each other as you idly chat after school in the typical classroom of the weekly Board Game Club meeting. The room buzzes with chatter as other students converse among themselves in their respective groups. You always feel at ease in the comfortable and laid back environment of the club. But… it’s missing something today.

“Honestly dude…One Piece is just too long. I do NOT have time to watch all that.”

“It’s not even that long, what do you mean??”

“Girl isn’t it like over a thousand episodes??”

“Woah” Idia puts up his hand “First of all, I am NOT a girl. I’d consider myself more of a, heh, sigma male.”

“...No fucking way you just said that shit seriously bro”. 

“You’re just mad you’re not a sigma male”.

“I don't want to be though???”

“Dude, just shut up and listen, One Piece is freakin’ awesome. Literally, it’s gotta be in my Top 3! I guess the pacing could use some work, but when you look at it from an overall picture…”

Idia’s voice seems to fade away as you glance at your phone. It’s ten minutes past the start of today’s club meeting. 

I wonder where Azul is…he’s usually here by now. You shake your head slightly, brushing the fleeting thought from your mind. It shouldn’t matter to me anyways. He probably wouldn’t even notice if I wasn’t here. You remember the short interaction you had earlier that day at the Mostro Lounge. It almost seemed like…he wanted to get away from us…from me?

And still, you can’t shake that heavy feeling in your heart knowing you’d have to wait another week. What a childish feeling, to be upset over not not getting to spend a couple hours at your college club with a boy. But you couldn’t help it. You’d have to wait another week to sit and converse with the gray-haired housewarden. The way his blue eyes lock with your own as he rests his chin on the palm of his hand, studying your face as his pink lips curl into a subtle smile as you tell him about your day. The way his glasses slowly slip down the bridge of his nose as he lets out a small, soft laugh, and nods, acknowledging the words and emotions that spill from your mouth, the way-

“Dude, are you good?” 

“...Huh?”

Idia still sits across from the table, staring at you, genuinely confused “Why’re you shaking your head? Are you really that against watching One Piece? 

You stare at Idia for a moment, before you let out a chuckle and shake your head once more, looking down at the stack of cards, “No, no. Sorry Idia. Um, I just got distracted for a sec, I was thinking about something off topic”. Clearing your throat, you straighten your back as you reach for the cards. 

“I’ll probably watch it one day man. Just not anytime soon”.

Just before your hands hit the cards, the door to the classroom swings open. At the door is none other than the boy that you had just managed to push out of your mind, Azul Ashengrotto.

Damn. Were his ears ringing or something?

Azul is clearly disheveled. The usually put together man has hair sticking up in some places, and hair sticking to his forehead due to sweat in other places. The coat to his school uniform is nowhere to be seen, only wearing the signature white shirt, black pants, and black and white striped tie of the Night Raven College Uniform. He holds his light purple vest in his hands, indicating his status as an Octavinelle dorm member. His glasses are crooked on his nose. 

As soon as he bursts through the door, his eyes land on you. The eye contact you share is brief, as he immediately pulls his gaze away, attempting to brush his hair down and straighten out his clothes. 

“Hey man. Took ya long enough” Idia remarks. 

You clear your throat as you shoot Azul a smile. “Mhm. We saved you a seat”. You pat the seat next to you. 

“O-oh!” Azul looks at your hand as it pats the area next to you. “That’s…quite considerate. Thank you prefect”. Azul places his vest behind the chair as he takes his seat next to you, continuing to avoid eye contact.

How the HELL am I going to do this…? God, I can’t even look at them.

You look at Azul one final time before you turn your attention back to Idia. “Alright, I’ll deal”. 

..

After about half an hour of playing a variety of card games, you turn to Azul once more. He has yet to speak a word. “Azul? You wanna play?”

“No!” he exclaims immediately, “Ahem…” he clears his throat, regaining his composure, “N-no thank you. I’ve chosen to observe today. Yes. To observe. I’d like to study your techniques in order to improve mine. Success doesn’t happen on its own, you know.”

Nice save Azul, he thinks to himself. Truth is, he’s too scared to play in fear of you seeing how much his hands are shaking due to his nerves. 

I don’t think I’d even be able to hold a card right now.

“...Chat is this real?” Idia asks.

“Yo chat is this real?” You add in.

“...what?” Azul asks blankly. 

What the FUCK does “chat is this real?” mean? 

“He fr doesn’t wanna play? Azul? The most competitive person in the club? The most competitive person in ALL OF NRC, basically?” Idia questions, sounding genuinely surprised. 

Azul stutters in his response, “I’m-I’m studying your techniques. So that I may assure victory the next time we play! Do not judge my methods of success Shroud!”

“...Whatever floats your boat dude” Idia responds in a bored tone, letting the topic go. 

You take this chance to jump into the conversation, as you turn your body to face Azul, “It’s okay, you and I can play next time. You could put your studied techniques to use then” you smile sweetly at him as you add in that last bit. 

Azul nods, his face going red as he feels it burning up, “Yes…I’d very much like that”.

You and Azul look at each other, if not only for 1 or 2 seconds, but somehow, it feels as though you two are the only ones in the room. Saying nothing, your smiles remain on your faces, as you look into each other’s eyes. 

Huh, his eyes really are pretty. They kinda look like…the ocean? Hah…quite fitting, I guess. 

…

“Normie shit” 

“Huh?” You break eye contact as you turn to look at Idia, pulled from your trance. 

Idia rolls his eyes, and in an annoyed tone, states, “Ugh. Nothing. Can you just deal the cards already? You’ve been holdin’ em’, like, basically forever now”.

“Oh… yeah. Sure. Sorry.” 

And with that, you set up another game. You two continue on with your card games, while you talk about fnaf or some shit idk this part isn’t really important to the story so just imagine you’re like arguing about fnaf lore, that’s something ya'll would prob do. Anyways, while you’re talking about nonsensical stuff…

Azul’s heart pounds through it all, his throat feeling dry. He watches the minutes go by on the clock, each click of the minute hand making his heart lurch. Just gotta ask them… You’ve got this.

I’ve got this?

~~~

The clock hits 8:00pm, and people begin to shuffle out of the classroom, heading back to their dorms for the night. 

You say your goodbyes to Idia. He says he’s gotta make it in time for the Final Fantasy dungeon before it closes or something, to be honest, you don’t know half of the stuff he talks to you about (smile and nod smile and nod), so Idia grabs his stuff and quickly heads back to his dorm.

Azul lingers as the rest of the students filter out, leaving just you and him alone in the room. Yeah, you two are alone. Perfect…right? 

“You heading back to your dorm, Azul?” you ask, breaking the silence.

He nods. “…yes.”

You nod, grabbing your bag and your phone, “Well then…I’ll see you soon? Next week probably, right? For club? 

“Um..yes. Of course” Azul shuffles in place. His responses make it sound as though he is also prepared to leave, but his actions seem to say otherwise. 

Okayyyy…?

“Um. Well then…!” You leave him with one final smile before you head towards the door, your light footsteps echoing throughout the silent room. 

Azul watches your back as you move towards the door. No. You were about to leave. He can’t waste this chance. It’s now or never. He can’t let you slip through his grasp. With conviction, Azul quickly takes a few steps forward, reaching out his hand.

“W-wait!” His fingers wrap around your upper arm. His hands are so…cold. Are they always like this? 

You jump a bit at the feeling, immediately stopping in your tracks as you turn slightly to look at him, a look of surprise on your face. 

“Why’d you…?” Your heart stops not only at his freezing touch, but at the look in his eyes. His eyes are wide and expectant, as though he’s pleading with you not to go. 

“Y/N…could you…meet me at the VIP Room of the Mostro Lounge? Around…10? I… I um…I have something to give you….if that's alright…”

“Something to give me?” You now turn to face him completely, your heart pounding. You can practically hear the beat of it in your ears. Can he hear it too?  “What are you gonna give me?” He has yet to let go of your arm. 

“You’ll see when I give it to you. It’s…it’s nothing much! It’s only due payment. For…for helping with my…overblot.” Azul looks away, shame falling over his face as he remembers that incident.  “I can’t have me being in debt to you, you know” His eyes fall back onto you, and he notices that he’s still gripping your arm. 

“O-oh!” He pulls his arm back quickly as it shrinks into his chest. “Sorry!” He clears his throat “… Um… so… will I be seeing you tonight?” That last phrase drips in desperation.

You feel your heart fall to the pit of your stomach. 

“Will I be seeing you tonight…?” That sounded oddly…no. No. Of course not. You already knew he didn’t think about you that way. Don’t get ahead of yourself Y/N. 

You nod. “Sure…okay. Yeah...I’m gonna head back to my dorm to change, then I'll go over to the Lounge…is that okay?” 

“Yes!!!” Azul says, a little too enthusiastically. Once more, he clears his throat. Man, how many times does a man need to clear his throat? “I mean- certainly. I’ll see you then”. Azul nods, before he turns on his heel and basically runs out the door.

…

Did that just happen? You stand in the exact same place Azul left you in. You lift your hand slowly to touch the place on your arm that Azul had wrapped his fingers around. You could still feel the chill that ran up your arm from his cold touch. Did he just…invite me to the dorm tonight? You touch your face, you feel light headed, your skin feels hot, your heart pounds.

Oh shit. 

~~~

Now in casual clothes, you knock on the door of the VIP Lounge. Your hand shakes as you knock one, two, three times. Almost immediately after the third knock, the door swings open.

“Y/N!” 

You almost fall back in surprise. “Oh my God!”, you stumble back a bit, as Azul suddenly stands inches away from your face. 

“S-sorry!” Azul puts his hand up, about to grab you to stop you from falling, but stops just centimeters away from your skin. “Uh…” he puts his hand down quickly. “Sorry, I was just…close to the door. Ahem.” Azul steps aside, gesturing for you to enter the room. “Come in…please.”

That “please”... why did it sound a little like…he was begging? No. No no no. It was just your imagination. What is up with you and your imagination today?

As you walk into the room, Azul closes the door behind you. Studying his back, you take note of his attire. He remains in his black slacks and white button up dress shirt only, the top two buttons undone, revealing just a bit of his collarbone. He looks quite casual now. Definitely a change from his normal presentation. He really does have a nice figure. You think to yourself. Of course he does, he’s worked for it. Like everything else he has.

Azul quickly makes his way over to the other side of his desk after closing the door, walking straight past you, and he begins to rummage around in his drawer hastily. He has yet to say a word to you. Just as you’re about to say something, he presents you with something. Suddenly, he has pulled out…a bubble?

No. Not just a bubble. You take a step forward to get a closer look, “Azul, what is…” your eyes widen as you take a better look at the round item Azul has presented to you in the palms of his hands. 

It was a clear, crystalized water bubble, and at the center of it lay the most beautiful conch shell you’d ever seen. This shell, glimmering in the crystallized water of the bubble, reflected the soft light of the VIP Lounge, making it seem as though it were glowing. Held in place by the crystallization of the water, the shell was on display perfectly in the center, as though it were on a pedestal. But, even more notable, was the color of this shell: It was an azure-blue, the same color as…something that seemed very, very familiar. 

“This…is for you.”

“What?”

“It’s for you.”

“For…me?”

Azul’s hands shake as they begin to fall down towards the desk, taking the crystalized shell along with them. Rapidly, coming out in a string of words, Azul begins to speak, “If-if you don’t like it, you are under no obligation to accept it prefect! I will find some other way to repay you! What would you prefer? If you could provide me a list, I’d be more than happy to-”

“Azul. It’s…it’s, really, really pretty.”

His voice halts, and his face twitches. His eyes flicker up to meet yours,“…it is?”

Carefully, you pick up the bubble from his hands. As your hands slip under the bubble, you’re once again faced with the freezing sensation of Azul’s hands, as the back of your hands slide against the palms of his. Gently, you lift the bubble to your face, the light from the room causing the color of the conch in the water to reflect onto your face and eyes, creating a soft, blue tone. 

Azul admires you as you study the conch. Oh, is he absolutely mesmerized by you being…well…mesmerized. 

“H-how…? How did you get this?”

“...I made it.”

“You WHAT?” You say in disbelief, your eyes widening.

The surprise in your voice boosts Azul’s ego a bit, and he straightens up at this. “Hehe… quite. I made it. It’s actually a shell from the Atlantica Memorial Museum. I thought that it would be…appropriate…for the occasion…so I took a short trip down in the ocean for it. I thought that…it might have a little more worth if it was actually connected to a…shared experience of ours…” his voice trails off as the last little bit falls from his lips.

You look at him, genuinely confused. With your eyebrows furrowed, a string of questions leaves your mouth, “Huh? What do you mean? Occasion? Shared experience?” 

“Well…” Azul takes a deep breath in, and a shaky breath out. “Those words… that you said to me…you told me I was amazing… that I had incredible diligence…during our walk outside the museum. Such kind words, for someone like me?” Azul's gaze falls to the ground, as his face begins to heat up once more in embarrassment. He awaits a response from you. 

…

“Did I?”

Azul's jaw nearly drops in disbelief and his head shoots up to meet your eyes. “Y-you mean to say…you don’t remember?????”

“Honestly…no?”

At this, Azul nearly crumbles from the pressure and humiliation, “O-oh… I’m… um…apologies prefect…I just assumed you would remember. Oh dear, forget what I said, please-”

“No! …I mean. Whatever I said, I know I meant it. I might not remember saying it, but I’d never lie to you Azul. Your diligence is incredible. I see the way you work. You really are amazing. I admire you. Really.”

You set the conch down on his desk with a clink, and you run a finger over it, avoiding eye contact with Azul, gazing down at the bubble. 

“I’m really, really happy you gave this to me Azul.” You look up at him, directly in the eyes. He’s frozen in place, taking in each and every one of your words.You stay silent for a couple seconds, before the next words fill the room’s stifling silence, “Did you notice… that the conch is the same color as your eyes?” You look back down at the bubble on the table, tenderly pulling it into the palms of your hands. You hold it up to Azul’s eye level. “Yes. Exactly the same” A small smile spreads across your lips. “Thank you, Azul”.

They…they like it?

Azul’s heart pounds. He feels as though he might just pass out. The knot in his chest feels so tight, he can’t breathe. God, he’s practically bursting at the seams. He can’t do it anymore. He can’t hold back. He needs to tell you. He needs to do this. Now. Right now.

Reaching his hands out, slowly, almost hesitantly, he softly grabs your wrists, one wrist in each hand. He lets go of one, grabbing the conch and gently setting it down on the table once more.

“Y/N.”

Your heart lurches as he says your name. Oh how you love the way he says your name.

You don’t say anything in response. You just stare at him. Your throat feels dry and itchy.

“I….”

Azul’s voice trails off…he contemplates. 

Taking a deep breath in, Azul asks you a simple, but crucial question, “I need to be honest with you. Can…can I be honest with you? Please…?” Azul lets a hint of pleading, a hint of yearning, roll off of his tongue. 

You can only nod in response. It’s a small, slow nod. You don’t break eye contact. Not once.

His voice chokes, “I…” and he softly shakes his head, pulling his hands away from your wrists as he places one hand to his chest, and the other falls limply to his side. He quietly gulps, parting his lips slightly to take a small breath before he speaks,

“I…I can’t stop ... .I can't stop thinking…about…” his fingers tightly grip his button-up shirt.

You look at him, his conflicted state plastered on his face, reflected in his eyes, as though he’s fighting some sort of inner battle.

“About you.”

You feel as though all the blood drains from your face. Lightheadedness hits you like a truck.

His hands visibly shake as they return to softly grip your wrists. Slowly, he runs his hands up and over the palms of your hands, tentatively intertwining his fingers with yours. His hands feel clammy and cold, and that familiar chill crashes over you, climbing into the depths of your nerves, as his hands tremble in your own. He holds on lightly, as though he’s scared you’re going to dissipate into the air, like you’re going to crumble with any pressure applied.  

“I…feel…so…” his voice trails off…

…

“Confused.” His voice cracks with the last syllable.

And with that, his next words come out like crashing waves.

“I can’t concentrate, Y/N. My paperwork, my meetings, my studies, none of it. I simply can't.  Every single day…I feel like… like…” He squeezes your hands ever so slightly, “…like I’m going insane…All I can think about is you. I’m losing sleep Y/N. I can’t sleep.”  That last word contains a hint of pining, a whine, like a dog pleading with its owner.

“Y/N…” Azul releases your intertwined hands, now wrapping both of your hands in his own, cupping them into his and pulling them close to his chest.

“Tell me…what do I do?” His voice cracks, the last part of the sentence essentially a whimper. He’s searching hopelessly for an answer. And he wants you to give it to him.

You stand there, absolutely dumbfounded. You part your mouth, but no words come out. 

Worry not, Azul’s not finished. He continues on.

I’ve made a fool of myself already. My reputation. Our relationship. I’ve risked it all. I’m not one to gamble…but I have nothing left to lose now. 

“I’ve never….felt this way before. Y/N…would you… would you be willing…to take a chance with me?” 

His hands tremble over yours as your eyes widen at this request.

“You know…I hate to ask for things. But…I’m willing to swallow my pride today. For this. For you. I’d like to propose a…a deal…”

He pauses, studying your eyes, hoping maybe, just maybe, he’d find an answer in them.

“Would you… give me your heart?…You…you wouldn’t leave this deal empty handed..! A mutual exchange…even and fair…you give me your heart…and I’ll give you mine.”

Still, you are unable to say anything. You feel dizzy, you can’t think straight. Your words are caught in your throat. Are you about to fall over? Is this real? You’re not dreaming right? 

Azul takes a deep breath in, and boldly takes one more step: he pulls a single hand of yours to his face, both of his hands holding your single one in place on his left cheek. He holds on, softly, but unyielding, as though he’s scared you’ll disappear into thin air. The same as his hands, his face is freezing cold.

 It must be his whole body that feels this way, you think to yourself.

“Y/N…how do you feel about me? Please…tell me…I can’t continue feeling this way. I feel as though I’m going to explode Y/N. My chest…it feels so heavy all the time. I can’t take it anymore. I’m at my wits’ end.”

…

“So tell me… what do you think of this deal…?”

You stare at him, and he stares at you. The look in his eyes, so desperate. You’ve never seen him look so vulnerable before. The overblot looks like nothing in comparison to the look he has on his face right now. He looks as though he’s risking it all. That’s because, for him, he really is. 

It’s your turn now. Softly, you run your hand slightly down over his face, slipping away from the grasp of his hands. You run your thumb softly over his beauty mark under his lower left lip, and your pointer finger follows its lead. It’s a gentle touch. The fingers run over it, bordering his lower lip, tracing even, ever so briefly, before you put your hand down to your side. 

“….Okay.”

Azul stares blankly at you.

“…Okay?”

“I accept Azul. I accept your deal. Okay.” You nod subtly, your face feeling hot as you release these words from your throat. Your acceptance of his words. Acceptance of his feelings.

Azul lets out a sharp, shaky breath, as though he’d been holding it for years now. Then, he lets out a chuckle, breaking out into a cheesy smile, laughing, almost like a child.

He places his palm to his forehead in relief, sounding absolutely shocked, “R-really? You do???” 

You let out a small laugh, seeing the way his tense demeanor fades away, and you see Azul for what he really, truly is in this moment: A guy that’s absolutely and utterly devoted…to you. “Yes. I accept your deal Azul. I feel the same way.”

Azul lets out an excited “Ha!!” As he grabs your arm and pulls you close to him. He doesn’t break eye contact, despite only being a few inches away from your face now, as he asks,

“You…you’re not joking right? You’re not toying with me??? You really mean it??”

You nod, a bit more vigorously this time, hoping it’ll really communicate your commitment. Laughing, even more, you respond, “Yes, yes, oh my god yes. Dude…I’ve never seen you this excited before! This is actually kind of insane bro…” 

At this point, Azul couldn’t give two shits about your remark. All he cares about is your reciprocated feelings. It’s mutual. Your feelings are mutual. 

I could die right now.

Holding you close, having pulled you in by one arm after your acceptance, he cups your face in his hands, only for a brief moment, and runs his fingers down your cheeks. “Th-this is wonderful! Splendid even!” He says excitedly. Breaking away from your face, he exclaims “Okay!”. Grabbing your hand, he pulls you roughly over to the other side of his desk, and begins rummaging around in the drawer. 

You peek over his shoulder, trying to see what he’s looking so maniacally for. 

Then he reveals it.

He pulls out a golden scroll, hastily splaying it out onto the table. He forcefully pushes a pen into your hand. 

“J-just sign here!!” He grasps your hand with the pen, and guides it over to the characteristic “x” and line, indicating the need for a signature.

Awww hell nah bruh.

You immediately pull your hand away, nuzzling it into the safety of your chest. “Azul! What the fuck!”

“W-what???!” Azul asks, genuinely surprised and concerned. Oh… does he look like a puppy that was just scolded for the first time.

“Dude!! N-No! I thought the deal and contract thing was…like…a metaphor!!!”

“W-why would it be a metaphor??” Azul cries out. “This, this is a…” Azul thinks back to his conversation with Jade, his words flashing in his mind, “A physical manifestation of my appreciation!” 

Thanks for that Jade..

You look at him, mouth wide open in shock. “Because it’s fucking insane to have the person you confess to sign a contract ensuring they like you back???”

“W-well..! I need to be sure!”

“…” You let out a scoff of disbelief, crossing your arms over your chest as you shake your head.

But then, your face softens, and you let out a chuckle

“...Ha…alright. You know what? Fine.”

You put your hand down to the “x” on the paper, the pen hovering over the line, “but on one condition”, you add in.

Azul freezes. “W-what?”

They want to make a bargain? With me? Who do they think they are? No one proposes contracts to Azul Ashengrotto. I do the proposing.

Huh. Guess some things really do never change. 

“I eat at the Mostro Lounge. For free.”

Azul’s face, previously draped in shock, melts into a soft, almost mocking smile.

“Well…as my partner…wouldn’t that be a given? What an ignorant question.”

“...Ignorant question?” You raise an eyebrow. “Hm. Somehow, the scroll looks…unappealing suddenly. Wouldn’t you agree?” You look up at him, smirking as you pull your hand away from the paper. 

“SMART! SMART QUESTION. SMART QUESTION. INCREDIBLY INTELLIGENT, YOU ARE MY DEAR!”

Azul puts his hands up, waving them frantically towards the paper, indicating for you to sign. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! S-sign the scroll! Please!”

You laugh at Azul, and finally, your pen glides across the paper, and you effortlessly lift your hand from the sheet as the scroll dissipates into the air, leaving gold specks of light in its wake. 

I cannot believe I just signed that fucking scroll. Did I just sell my soul? 

Azul watches the light as it fades, gold specks reflected in his glasses. He turns to look at you, smiling as though he’d just scored the business deal of a lifetime. Because to him, he had. 

“This…this is wonderful! Haha!” He breaks out into giddy laughter, but… is cut off?

He feels…something warm…? On his face…?

Oh. 

Ohhh.

You had leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. 

Azul stands there. In utter shock. His body tense, he feels as though the wind could knock him over if it felt so inclined. 

You back up. One step. two steps. You smile at him as you grab his hand and wrap it around the pen. 

“Where’d your voice go? Sea witch got your voice?” You say in a teasing tone.

“Y….you…” 

You giggle, “You know. Your hands are incredibly cold. So is your face. They say your lips are most sensitive to temperature. I guess I just wanted to see if that was true. I can now confirm that to, in fact, be the truth!”

You let out a quick laugh, smiling at him as you watch him basically self-destruct before your eyes. You release his hand which now holds the pen, and you turn to that glass bubble on the table that kickstarted this night between you too.

“Thank you again, Azul!” You say, in almost a playful manner, knowing the drastic change in the mood is going to give him emotional whiplash. Not to worry, that was the point. “For the wonderful gift, both uh…physical and verbal?” You say, furrowing your eyebrows and lifting the conch in your hand “I dunno….Anyways!”

Azul remains standing in place, watching you. The rest of his body still frozen, he breaks into an awkward smile, nodding slightly, not once taking his eyes off of you.

You head for the door, shell in hand, pulling the knob and opening it. Before you exit, you add in. “I’ll see you tomorrow then? I’ll head back over here after class. That sound okay to you?”

One last time, Azul nods, this time vigorously, his frozen body now coming back to life as he takes a step towards your figure, his hand slightly extended out to you, as though he doesn’t want you to go, “Y-yes! Yes! That sounds wonderful. I’ll see you tomorrow…Y/N.” 

And with that, you leave him with a final smile before you walk out of the room, and you shut the door behind you.

Click

And once again, Azul is left to his own devices. 

The tension and stress hitting him like a slap in the face, Azul’s legs give out from underneath him. He collapses to the ground in a heap. How he managed to not do that way earlier, he doesn’t know. He opens his hand and looks down to reveal the pen. The very pen you’d used to sign off your love. To him. 

“I suppose I could give Jade…a bonus…or something. For the help.” Azul mutters to himself, not caring about his monetary loss one bit. 

The pen feels warm in his cold hands, remnants of you lying in his palm.

Your heart for mine. Not a bad trade. 

…

Perhaps I should begin drafting up a marriage contract? 

~~~

THE END 😝😝

I love you Azul Ashengrotto I’ve been hyperfixated on you for three yearsl they could never make me hate you bbg gets on all fours and starts meowing rubs my face against your leg like an overly affectionate cat searching for your attention id do anything for you azul.

fyi this fic is basically a self-insert of myself and azul i literally just pulled a find and replace all at the end to generalize it i love azul sm i love him.

[crypt-keepers-den]

I need more of Astarion and his little spawns- You don't understand how much I fucking loved that fic, PLEASE WE NEED MORE DADDY STARION 😭😭😭

I DIED BUT NOW IM BACK ENJOY!

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬 (𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧)

Astarion never claimed he'd be a good father, but as soon as your little ones arrived into the world he sure was the proudest. When Lyra, your oldest had been born he fainted (can vampires faint idk), and when you announced your pregnancy with your youngest, Caspian, he was elated and told anyone who'd listen that his darling was blessing him with a second child.

when your oldest was born he was too frightened to hold her, in fear that he'd hurt her, but after a long talk from you (and a stern talking from halsin who'd offered to help you deliver naturally) he did hold her, frozen in place however as he did so. "she's perfect my darling" soft silvery tears cascading down his pale cheeks as the new-born yawns, when your youngest was born, he was prepared this time, holding your hand with confidence as you brought a new life into the world, bringing your 1yr old daughter into the bedroom to meet her baby brother, the elf had a grin etched on his face.

becoming a parent is one thing, but a parent to a dhampir baby is another, when lyra started teething you found out the harsh way. One evening you had lifted the infant to breastfeed her, settling back down on the couch with the infant nestled to your chest as she contently latched, your adoring husband sitting next to you a book in hand, his free hand stroking the top of his daughter's head. "star, read that page again i was too focused on lyra" he nods starting again until he heard a sudden yelp from you, "my love whatever's wrong?" he watches you exam the giggling baby's mouth "holy Avernus, star she's got fangs!" his eyes widened at your discovering as he leans over to see what your talking about, your holding the drooling baby's mouth open to allow him to see the two little white points that had pierced through lyra's gum. His eyes widen now understanding what had happened causing him to laugh, earning him a rough slap to the shoulder and a stern glare. safe to say you switched from breastfeeding to bottle and continued to do so with your second born (not that it helped but it saved your poor breasts from being gummed on by your children atleast).

Astarion prided himself in his inability to say 'no' to his children, "papa can i has?" caspian stares up at his father with the same puppy dog eyes you use on him, "caspian no treats before dinner!" you'd call out, the little boy would then pout before looking back up at his daddy, "papa a'peas", oh dear your son has him in the palm of his chubby little hands, astarion cant remember his childhood anymore, nothing but faint smells of what he assumes is his mother's perfume, but he does remember having nothing when he was under cazadors control. And he had made a promise at each child's birth, they'd never suffer like he had and they'd want for nothing. in this scenario its astarion sneaking your son a cookie before dinner, the pair hiding under the kitchen table laughing "our little secret little starling" , "you two know i can see you right?" "quick run!". with choas ensueing as you chastise the pair for ruining their appetite for dinner.

"lyra please stopping scaring your brother with your bat form!", the first time your daughter had found out she could shift scared you shitless, toddler lyra suddenly poofing into a bat mid hiccup causing you and astarion to jump out of your skin, not knowing how to get lyra to turn back until she hiccups again poofing back and landing in a panicked astarion's arms while giggling at her parents panicked faces. Since then astarion had taught her how to use it properly, however she had a terrible habit of scaring her little brother with it, startling the tot causing him to wail and run to the nearest parent crying "a bwat!, a mama! a papa! noo!" earning lyra a scolding, you and astarion made her promise to not use her abilities in the cottage and not infront of her brother, not until he was a little older anyway.

(hey! im back with some dadstarion stuff! how are we all liking this? i could go on forever about dadstarion scenarios, what would you like to see?)

[simp2537]

𝓗𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻

a/n: this is sorta a filler chapter, nothings special really happens. Y’all get some insight to Hunter!readers character.

Word Count : 745

Trigger Warnings: child abuse, depression, war, war crimes, imprisonment, torture, abuse, predatory behavior, anxiety, nightmares, suicidal thoughts, death  gore, murder, teen pregnancy, drug abuse, alcohol addiction, just heavy themes all around

Chapter Two

Home Sweet Home

Y/n quickly left the car and grabbed her bags. She dashed to the door whipping around Kai it was locked. 

“Keys!” She yelled at her father who was grabbing Bella’s bags. With a smile through the ring of keys which she caught quickly. She jammed them in, shooting the door open with such enthusiasm it made her dad assisted chuckle softly dissipate their awkwardness.

Right there on the door frame were small indictments of the girls height over the ages. There names scribbled atop the door, Y/n felt a tears streamflow her face. She remembered the last summer she was home. Bella was with her and Y/n wanted to ensure she left some mark of Bella to see.

The then twelve Bella was two inches shorter than the ten year old Y/n. She looked around her home giggly and watching Asher memories flashed before her eyes. She ran up all the stairs, logging her bags with ease. 

She pulled open the attic door hatch, throwing her bags and crawling up. Her e/c eyes weld with tears as she stared at her childhood room. It was left in a perfect condition.

Her books were laid in the shelves, her stuffed animals and dolls in the corner, her bed against the far end of the room next to the window. It was all perfect. She ran and jumped into her bed. Her body bounced softly as she laughed happily. The cozy mix of rose pinks and lilac covered the room.

“I kept it all the same, except the desk. Thought you might like it.” Charlie’s voice rang through. Y/n shot up staring at her dad with the brightness smile. She nodded her head eagerly.

“It’s perfect daddy! You kept it all the same!” She cheered as she kicked her legs. As she laid in her bed Charlie walked over to her, opening one of her many bags. He pulled out a stuffed brown bear, Lockheed. 

Charlie stared down at the bear, he remembered the day he brought Y/n home. She clutched the bear tightly, her only remaining object of her past. Charlie carefully set the bear next to Y/n with a smile.

“You still got this old bugger?” Y/n grabbed Lockheed with a smile. She rested him on her stomach. 

“Of course, he stays always.” Charlie ruffled Y/n’s hair and began to tread down the open hatch. 

“It good to have you home, my little soldier.” Y/n smiled. Her dad had no idea how literal that name was to her now. As Charlie disappeared under the hatch Y/n couldn’t help but feel that gut piercing feeling of guilt. As she began to unpack all her stuff she grew annoyed at the thought of doing it all.

“๒ץ Շђє ק๏ฬєг ๏Ŧ ђєг๓єร, ﻮเשє ๓є รקєє๔!” Y/n mumbled. Her body began to speed around the room at an inhuman pace. The floor did not creak under her nor did the soft pink and white rug move as she danced over it. Soon her bags were unpacked and all her things were placed away.

All that was left was her duffle bag. She dumped the contents onto her bed. Daggers, axes, crossbow with many enchant bolts, bow, quiver, enchanted arrows, two spears, sickles, sai, guns and ammunition were just to name a few.

Her eyes popped out of her skull as she stared at all the weapons that poured from her bag. Kellan made sure that she would be well prepared. She quickly placed them all back into her bag and slid the bag under her bed. She find a better place to put them later. 

She wandered downstairs to Bella’s room with a smile. She leaned against the door frame with a smirk.

“Need some help Bells?” Y/n pondered an amused look on her face. Bella was struggling to place her suitcase upon a high shelve in her closet. Sheepishly Bella looked away as Y/n helped her. A noise outside the window grasped both girls attention.

They went to the window and saw their father with two people. One a boy around Y/n’s age and one an older man in a wheelchair.

Y/n stared at the boy with a knowing smile. His shinning brown skin against the grey sky, glossy long raven hair, and his eyes are dark and deep in color. They were rich like the very dirt they would play together in when they were little. 

Jacob Black Y/n thought with a smirk. My how you’ve grown.

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[smoooothoperator]

What Was I Made For?

03: Look What You Made Me Do

Charles Leclerc x driver!OC (Dafne Morelli)

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers

Warnings: the day after, some misogyny:)

a/n: Hello hello!! This time is short one, I think... But is a very important one :) I had a rellay rough weekend because I'm sick and I still had to do some rehearsals (believe me, is not funny having a cold and singing at the same time) I hope you enjoy this chapter!!!!

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Every way of feedback is very welcomed

Something heavy was wrapping my waist. And the duvet is not that heavy.

And it feels warm… So warm… My whole body feels warm.

I groaned, opening my eyes slowly and groaning when the daylight blinded me.

“Fuck…” I groan, feeling an instant headache, probably the hangover from last night.

I looked down at that arm. Those rings… I know those rings. White and blue crystals. And a bracelet.

It can't be.

“What the fuck?!” I scream, turning around and finding him laying next to me. “Get out of my bed!”

“Fuck, Melanie… What the hell…”

Melanie?

I jumped out of bed and immediately noticed I was naked. Just like him.

“No…. No, no, no, no” I mumble, grabbing the first thing I found to cover my body. “Get out of here!”

He groaned, turning around and finally opening his eyes. The shock in his face probably was higher than the hangover, making him fall from the bed to the floor. He was naked. Completely naked. No shirt, no pants. No boxers. Nothing. Bare, completely bare.

“Get out of my fucking room” I said seriously, my blood boiling slowly. 

“You are in my room” he frowned, covering his dick with his hand. “Get out. Where is Melanie?”

“Are you stupid?! This is my room! My things are here, look!”

He frowned, rubbing his eyes with his free hand and looking around. My suitcase was there. My backpack, my makeup bag, my book. 

“Fuck” he whispered.

I clenched my jaw and looked at him. There's no way… There's no way we did it. Why? Why the hell did he come here after what he did last night?

“Get out” I groan. “Did you use a condom at least?”

“I would rather be dead than fuck with you, keep dreaming” he scoffed, grabbing his clothes and getting dressed immediately. “I'm not one of those you can fuck”

“Fucking asshole” I groan. “You know what? You were right! I fucked with Mick! Go on, go tell everyone I did! Oh no, wait. You already did last night”

“See? You don't deserve the seat” he scoffed. “You do exactly what people thought women would do to get in this sport. Fuck your way into a seat. You are a…”

I frown looking at him and then at the shoe that was on the floor next to me. I clenched my jaw and grabbed it, pointing at him with it, threatening him.

“Come on, say it if you dare to. I am a what?” I scoffed. “Get out of here before I call the security of the hotel. Get the fuck out of here before I kill you!”

“You won’t do that” he laughed, collecting his clothes. “You are too soft, you even apologize when you take someone off track. See? You shouldn’t be he-”

The heel of my hand flew to the other side of the bed, hitting him right on the chest. He looked at me with a mix of surprise and anger, rubbing the spot where the heel hit him.

“The next one goes to your eye, you hear me?” I groaned, grabbing the other heel. 

“You are crazy!” he groaned, grabbing all his clothes and running out of the room before I did what I promised.

“You don’t know a shit about me” I groaned right when he slammed the door.

When he closed the door I was still standing in the middle of the room, feeling shivers all over my body, making me run to the bathroom and throw up.

I feel gross, so gross. I barely remember what happened last night, only that he humiliated me in front of all the people that attended the party, then someone dragged me out of the club and brought me to my room. Then hard knocks… And his lips pressed on mine.

Why didn't I stop him? What the hell is wrong with me? Why did I let him do whatever he wanted?

“You are better than this” I said, looking at myself through the mirror, pointing at the reflection. “This is just a bump in the way, a small obstacle to avoid. He won’t get on your nerves, you are better than him. Yesterday you showed it. It is time to show him who you are”

I took a deep breath and smiled at the reflection, nodding. I am better than him.

I grabbed clean clothes and headed to the shower, taking a long time to get ready and relax, washing my body over and over again, needing to erase every mark of his fingerprints on my skin, needing to erase every bit of him.

He will regret every word or thing he did to me. Not only what he said yesterday. I’ll make him regret everything he did to me.

Driving out of the hotel was as tedious as I thought it was going to be. Maybe even more.

My family probably left to go home early this morning, so I was now on my own, with sunglasses to hide the dark circles under my eyes, music to entertain me, and a long way to my home.My phone was burning with messages and notifications, but since my manager was the one that took care of my social media, I just ignored it.

Until I received a call. 

Fred.

Fuck.

“Hey, Fred… Everything okay?” I sighed, answering the call.

“Is it possible for you to come to the factory? It's important”

“Eh… Sure, I guess?” I frown.

“Good. It's urgent, so make sure to arrive as soon as possible”

“Alright” I sighed as he ended the call.

Urgent? What can be urgent to not wait some days to let us rest after the race? They normally let us have a free day before doing meetings and interviews.

Now the joy of winning a race is slowly slipping through my fingers, afraid of receiving a warning because I didn't work as a team. 

But why would they give me a warning? I did everything they asked for, I obeyed and listened to my engineer. I was respectful with them and even with the cars around me, trying to make a perfect race without mistakes. 

Before I knew it I was already driving through the Marinello streets, watching their people waving at me and walking towards my car as I approached the entry of the factory.

There was no one there, not as always. And somehow, that surprised me. They knew our cars, they were always waiting for one of us. But the entry was empty.

I parked my car and frowned when Charles' car wasn't there, and somehow that turned on the alarm in my brain.

They are not happy because I won? That's it?

“Hey, Fred” I smile nervously, closing the door of his office behind me. “So… I'm here. What was that important thing you wanted to talk about?”

“I heard that yesterday, during the party, things happened” he said. “That Charles started it”

“Oh… Yeah, that” I sighed, sitting on the chair after he pointed at it with his hand. “It's okay, I want to forget it. He was clearly drunk”

“We are aware of that” he nodded. “You’ll see… We are aware that being a woman in this sport is hard, that the way here wasn't as smooth as a man can have. And we are so proud to have you in the team…”

“But?” I sighed. “There's a but there, right?”

“But…” he nodded, smiling weakly. “Well, I want to know that whatever he said is not true”

“What?” I frowned. Is he really asking that? 

“It's for your own good” he said quickly, raising his hands. “We want the best for the team, and we want to have a good image of our drivers…”

“You want me to tell you that I didn't get my success because I sucked someone's dick” I scoffed. “Right. Well, let me ask you something? You've got this position because you bribed the owner?”

“That's out of context” he frowned.

“No it's not. It's exactly the same” I frowned, standing up. “I succeeded because I never gave up, no matter how many people thought the same as you about me. I gave nothing but blood, sweat and tears for this dream. None of you have an idea of what it is to be a woman in this sport. So please, don't you ever assume I sucked someone's dick to have a seat because it's never and will never be true”

I saw his jaw clenching a few times, looking at me with serious eyes. My breathing was heavy, somehow altered with all the anger I have been feeling for the last hours. 

“I'll make Charles apologize in public” he said. 

“And one last thing” I said, swallowing thickly. “Never make me record things or be in the same room as him to act like friends. What happened last night was enough to test my limits, and he clearly didn't respect them at all. He never did, anyway. Don't make me be friendly with him ever again”

“Sure” he nodded. “He will be punished for his behavior”

“Thank you” I sighed, taking a deep breath and walking out of the office.

What the fuck is wrong with this world?

Going home was a thing I wanted more than anything. I wanted to lay on my couch, watch my favorite series and cuddle my cat.

“Hey Athena” I smiled, looking at the blue eyed Ragdoll that came towards me, purring and rubbing her head against my legs.

I left my suitcase and bags in my room, throwing myself into my bead and groaning. My cat came, purring and rubbing her head against my cheek, laying next to my head.

“Oh, Thena…” I sighed, kissing her little head. “Men are so stupid… We don't need them, right? They think they can be better than us, stronger than us… But a world only dominated by men would end like something similar to the Wall-E movie. Or even in another war. Uhg… Stupid men”

Athena blinked slowly, purring loudly and licking my cheek softly, making me smile and sigh. 

Life is better when you have a cat. Fuck men.

I sigh and sit on the bed, picking up the white and brown cat in my arms, smiling when she climbed up to my shoulder to sit there. I smiled, rubbing her head softly, and walking towards the kitchen.

“Oh, Nina came to feed you, hm?” I smiled softly. “You were a good girl so she gave you wet food, huh?”

I smile, feeling ber head bumping against mine as I talked with her softly.

My home is my safe space. I can be myself, free of hate and the competition. Free of people that want more and more of me. Here I'm only Dafne, nothing else.

“See? Even fictional characters are idiots sometimes” I sighed, looking at the TV and pointing at Sebastian Stan while rubbing Athena's head. “Look at him, he acts nice at the start and then he ends being in the mafia”

Athena looked up at me, purring and somehow killing me with her eyes.

“Right, we love Sebastian Stan” I nodded, chuckling when I heard my cat's soft meow. 

When the movie ended I sighed, grabbing the plate of my lunch and putting it in the dishwasher. 

I should plan things for this week, choosing outfits for the interviews and events, reserve hotel rooms near the events. I have to do so many things…

The ringtone of my phone made me flinch, sighing softly when I saw Fred's name on the screen.

“Hey” I sighed. “L-look, what I said earlier..”

“Charles refuses to apologize” he interrupted me. 

“As I imagined” I scoffed. “And that punishment? He won't race in the next race? Will you fire him?”

“We will put the updates on your car on the next race” he said. “And we'll prioritize you over him”

“What?” I frown. “Are you for real? Only that?”

“There's anything else we can do, Dafne…” he sighed.

“There is! Is not fair, Fred! He questioned my whole career!” I exclaimed, madly. 

“And we will have a heavy talk with him about this” be frowned. “Is the middle of the season, I can't fire him”

“Right” I scoffed. “Well, I guess this is something that needs a lawyer”

“Dafne, don't do anything stupid” he said. 

“Stupid? Stupid is what you call a punishment! He refuses to apologize? No worries! I'm sure a demand will make him change his mind” I scoffed.

“L-look… If you want I can give you a free week… so you can calm down and disconnect-”

“Calm down?! Oh, believe me, Vasseur. I'm really calm right now” I frown. “I thought that we were on a year where the equality was something real, but I guess that's only for the publicity and to have more followers, right?”

“You are taking this too far, Dafne…” he sighed.

“No I'm not” I said. “You talk about women in this sport but none of you respect us! What do I have to do to gain everyone's respect? Put a warning too? Because it seems that winning a race is not enough”

“No” he sighed. “No, I'm sorry, okay? I'll make everything to make sure he understands that what he said is wrong”

“Don't worry. I'll do that my way” I said. “I think it's about damn time for him to know that I'm not one of those girls he can play with”

“Just…” he sighed, taking some deep breaths before talking again. “Don't fight. Not physically, not verbally. Things are already messy”

“Sure” I sighed, ending the call and clenching my jaw.

Athena walked towards me, jumping on top of the table and looking at me with her big blue eyes. Of course she knows something is wrong.

“It's time to show him what he have done, Thena” I said, rubbing her head. “He said I am a bitch? Then I'll be a bitch. A really bad one”

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[ashwhowrites]

could you do a Robin fic where reader forgets her diary at Robin's house after a sleepover (they're childhood best friends) and Robin decides to take a peek when she sees what reader wrote about her and all the things reader wants Robin to do to her, and then Robin does those things to her. Idk if this is a good request so if you don't like it don't do it. Anyways, love your fics!! 🩷

I love my baby Rob

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Dear diary

YN and Robin had been best friends for years. They met in elementary school and haven't been apart since. They told each other everything and nothing was a secret when it came to each other. Except for one little thing, Y/N never told Robin. Y/N never came out to Robin or told her she was in love with her. Y/N knew Robin liked girls, she knew before Robin told her. Y/N wished she had come out when Robin did, but she was scared.

Watching Robin grow into an attractive and mature woman was hard for Y/N. She always wanted to call it a small school crush, but it was past the crushing level.

Y/N didn't have other friends she wanted to share the information with, so she wrote it in her diary.

After the sleepover Y/N had with Robin last night, she had a lot to write about. She unpacked her bag and kept an eye out for her diary. She felt panic seep in her bones when the bag was empty and the diary was nowhere to be seen.

~

"I'm always amazed by how blue her eyes are. It gets hard to follow what she says because she is so distracting."

"We watched another movie tonight. It was her pick so I didn't understand the movie. But I loved listening to her reviews."

"We walked through the rain and I only thought about kissing her."

"I need to stop buying her rings. It's getting too attractive."

"I love the way she holds my hand through the store."

"I love it when she picks on Steve, sometimes he deserves it."

"I wish she'd kiss me."

"I wish she'd rent a horror film and let me hide in her arms. Baby me and slip me on her lap and take my breath away with her body."

Robin slammed the diary shut as she felt guilt rushing through her. She knew all of her best friend's deepest thoughts. Stuff she never guessed Y/N thought about. But Robin couldn't help but feel butterflies in her stomach. Her best friend liked her, and really liked her.

Robin chewed at her bottom lip as she weighed out her options. She wasn't sure if she should admit she read it or not. Would Y/N be pissed?

Yeah, probably Robin! You read about her secret crush on you

Robin jumped as she heard the phone ring. She set the book down on her bed and walked out to the kitchen. She answered and tried to keep her breathing normal.

"Hey Rob, did I leave a book there?" Y/N asked, nervously chewing on her nails. She hoped Robin didn't open it, or noticed that it was a diary not just a book.

"Um yeah, it...was on my floor! Yeah right there on the floor. Do you want me to bring it to school tomorrow? Or I could bike there right now. I think it might rain but I ha-"

"Tomorrow is fine, Rob. I'll see you in the morning," Y/N laughed as she hung up. She was used to Robin's rambles so she didn't think twice about it.

"I'm fucked," Robin said to herself as she slammed the phone on the wall.

~~~

Robin burned fire on her driveway as she paced. Y/N would be here any moment and Robin was horrible at seeming nonchalant. Her brain kept seeing the words written on the paper.

Robin took a deep breath as Y/N pulled up. She got in the car and tried to focus on being calm.

"Morning, Rob" Y/N said with a smile

Robin sent her a smile and handed over the book. Robin felt her stomach get tight as Y/N looked up and stared into her eyes. Was she thinking about how blue they were?

"What is it? It doesn't have a title or anything" Robin asked, not sure if she was making herself suspicious or in the clear

"Like a little journal. Nothing important in it," Y/N shrugged and tossed it in the backseat.

Robin nodded and left it at that.

~~~

Now that Robin knew about the crush, she wanted to do something about it. She has had a crush on Y/N since she could remember.

"Horror? for Y/N? Since when?" Steve asked as Robin checked out the film.

"She happens to want to watch one," Robin said, as she rolled her eyes. "Which I know because I'm her best friend. Just two girls watching a movie...together as friends. Sure, we might hide under a blanket but it's all just as friends!"

"You okay?"Steve asked, he eyed Robin with suspicion. He watched as her face got red and she stuttered a little more.

"What is with the investigation? It's a movie date! Not a date! It's not a date, just a movie with a friend"

"Movie with a friend sounds fun," Steve said, still worried about the girl as she raced out of the shop.

~

Robin might have covered her fingers in pretty rings. And she might have applied a clear gloss and sprayed perfume on her neck.

"Steve recommended this movie so I thought we should give the dingus a shot to be right for once," Robin said as she clicked play on the film. Both girls under the same blanket as Y/N picked at the bowl of popcorn.

Y/N laughed at the dig at Steve, but she was excited it was a horror film.

As the movie played, the closer Y/N got to Robin's warm body. The bowl of popcorn was moved to the table as Y/N launched herself into Robin's arms and hid her face in her neck.

Y/N silently purred to herself as she smelt the perfume on her skin. She smelled addicting.

"You don't have to be scared, I got you, sweetheart." Robin cooed as she wrapped her arm around Y/N.

Y/N felt her heart race, she could feel her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

"Thanks," she whispered shyly

"Just a movie, I'll protect you," Robin said, she looked down but couldn't see her face. "Would you want to...sit in my lap?"

Robin felt herself hold her breath as the question hung in the air. She prayed Y/N wouldn't think too hard and connect the dots.

Before Y/N could answer, Robin's arms were already yanking her over. Y/N felt her stomach flutter as she slipped on Robin's lap. She sat face to face with Robin, the movie lost in the background.

"What are you doing?" Y/N whispered, her eyes lost in the ocean blue of Robin's eyes.

"Taking your breath away," Robin whispered as she leaned in

Y/N felt pounding in her chest...and in between her legs as Robin cupped her face. The coldness of her chunky rings sent shivers down her spine.

Y/N held her breath as Robin closed the space between them. Her glossy lips were delicately pressed against hers. Y/N moaned as she kissed Robin back. Y/N's arms moved up to wrap around Robin's neck, deepening the kiss.

Robin kept one hand on her face and the other one moved down Y/N's back and slipped underneath her shirt. The feeling of Y/N's bare skin on her hand made Robin burn with desire.

Robin licked Y/N's bottom lip, asking to take the kiss to another level. Y/N happily agreed, opening her mouth as their tongues touched.

Y/N couldn't help but rock her hips against Robin, her hands moved into Robin's hair. She yanked and tugged as Robin growled.

Needing air, they pulled back. They panted as they looked at each other. A shy smile on Robin's face as Y/N looked shocked it all happened.

"I read your diary. I know that it was wrong, but I read too much. I know you like me and I like you too. I'm sorry for invading your privacy but I couldn't ignore what I read. I've liked you for so long and never had the right words to say." Robin explained, still a little breathless.

"I feel like I should be mad, but I got what I wanted." Y/N smiled

"I've always wanted to kiss you too," Robin confessed, her thumb softly pulling on Y/N's bottom lip.

"What do we do now?" Y/N asked

"I ask if you want to be my girlfriend? I think? I'm not sure most of Steve's stories end at the kiss and he doesn't see them again." Robin said

"Girlfriend sounds perfect," Y/N smiled

They shared a smile before their lips smashed together.

Maybe Y/N should leave her diary around more often.

[phie04]

Inconvenience | g. clarke

Chapter 1 - Moving out

Word Count: 1.2K

summary: time for Noa to get out of her apartment, with the assistance of Mr Christopher Dixon

Warnings: extremely mild angst / sad undertones

noamurphy

liked by chrismd10, arthurtv and 10,373 others

noamurphy no bc why is packing the worst

comments open

chrismd10 you haven’t finished packing?

⮑ noamurphy perhaps not

arthurtv you’re moving in an hour you do realise?

⮑ noamurphy yes very aware thank you. and it’s more like in five minutes and not 1 hour

⮑ arthurtv so stop replying and get packing

fan1 omg is she moving in with the boys??

⮑ noamurphy never they’re too messy x

⮑ arthurtv I refute this comment

⮑ noamurphy okay lawyer

⮑ glambyflo god i can't wait for you to be here xx

⮑ noamurphy can't wait to see you!!

fan2 praying this means more Noa content with the boys

⮑ fan3 please!!! just having her occasionally appear in Chris’ videos isn’t enough

gkbarry_ everyone shut up my girl is moving to London

⮑ noamurphy all for you babe x

maxbalegde I need to meet you immediately as soon as you’ve moved in

⮑ noamurphy consider it done x

Noa felt on the verge of crying. On the one hand, she knew this was exactly what she wanted, moving out of her cramped apartment and away from her tormenting job, to a significantly better apartment and a small position at her dream architecture firm. Still, it was all very terrifying.

The move from Jersey to Edinburgh for university was hard enough, followed by a slightly rushed decision to do a masters in Cambridge meant that Noa never really felt settled wherever she went. So, when an apartment in the same building in which her childhood friends Arthur and Chris lived became available, she jumped at the chance. It wasn’t that her apartment was bad, it just didn’t feel like home - as hard as she tried, her room felt more like a dorm and office rolled into one, with plans and building ideas scattered around.

She rubbed her face, trying to stave of the feelings of exhaustion as more books were piled into one of the many half filled moving boxes. Regretting the four hours of sleep the night before, Noa reached to the side to grab her can of Monster, cursing when she found it empty.

"Knock knock! It's you're favourite person!" a voice called in the hallway, followed by the small pitter-patter of hobbit feet.

Noa rolled her eyes and stood up, grimacing at how her joints cracked as she stretched. "Either Arthur has dramatically shrunk, or something isn't right here."

Chris chuckled as he pulled Noa in for a hug, his eyebrows raising as he took in her state. "I see you've had an ample amount of sleep."

She chuckled, turning away from him to start closing the lids on the packing boxes. "You know I thrive off practically no sleep. That's how I did A Levels. And most of university." Noa shrugged.

"I'm aware. So how much packing have you got left to do? Because I'd preferably want to be on the road before it gets too busy." Chris asked, nervously glancing at his watch.

"Calm your tits Dixie we’ll be fine.” Noa grinned, walking into her cardboard box of a bedroom to grab her last couple of things. “But thank you though, I appreciate the help.”

Chris smiled, as he began stacking boxes in the hallway. “You’re welcome Noa, plus now that we’re living in the same building, I can just borrow all your stuff. And your food.”

“I thought the four of you were good at cooking? At least, when you have the right utensils and ingredients.”

“You weren’t the one who had to try those pizzas.” Chris shivered, trying to suppress the memories. “So it’s just these boxes yeah?”

“Sure is!” Noa called, emerging from the bedroom with a backpack and duffel bag. “One of the pros of renting a furnished place, don’t have to move all the furniture when you leave.”

“Are you gonna miss it?”

“Jesus no the mattress was horrible.”

“Not the furniture you idiot, the place in general.”

Noa shrugged as she did one last sweep of the kitchen, checking that she hadn’t left anything behind. “It was nice, but it just felt like the right time to move on.”

Chris nodded, picking up one of the lighter looking boxes, helping Noa ferry them into the hall.

As he grabbed the last box from the living room, curiosity got the better of him and he had a quick peek inside (Noa had written a note on the box telling him to specifically not look). His heart tightened at the sight of the blue football boots inside, mud streaks and grass stains still evident across soles and laces. The leather was deeply creased and the colour was worn around the eyelets of the laces, they used to be used frequently, but the small layer of dust that had collected on them proved that they’d been hidden away for a while.

Rifling around in the box more, he found the matching shin pads, as well as a collection of dog eared photos. Chris smiled fondly, holding the Polaroid up to the light so he could clearing see the people in the image.

It was himself, Noa and Arthur as kids - all grinning at each other. Noa’s hair was pulled up into a ponytail, which was once probably neat, but in the moment it was a mess, flyaways everywhere and her baby hairs sticking to her forehead. Arthur and Chris looked significantly younger, baby faces prominent, with a definitive lack of facial hair. Chris felt his eyes water with emotion, remembering the ecstasy of the moment. Even as an adult, the unbridled joy of seeing someone you cared for win their football league was contagious.

Though he couldn’t help but sigh sadly, knowing how much everything had changed.

“Christopher! I specifically wrote a note on that box for you not to rummage through that!” Noa sighed, taking it from his hands and repacking it quickly.

“Why not?”

“Because you’d get all like…this.” She replied, gesturing her arms up and down at him.

“You just gestured to all of me.” Chris said indignantly, screwing his face up in confusion.

“I’m aware.” Noa answered, pulling the front door open with a grunt, pushing some boxes with her left foot to hold it open. “Now let’s get this show on the road yeah?”

“You’re not even gonna acknowledge it?”

“Acknowledge what Chris?”

“Don’t do this Noa, c’mon.” He sighed, moving to block her view of the boxes that she was busying herself with. “You’ve still got those boots.”

“Sure do.” She replied shortly, piling a small valuables box on top of one marked ‘kitchen - don’t drop’. “Got all my football stuff in there.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Noa huffed. “What’s left to talk about? We’ve talked about it many times, I think we’ve covered everything. And it was five years ago Chris.”

Chris raised his eyebrows, not convinced. “Okay, okay, but if you want to talk, me and Arthur are here.”

“Very aware of that, thanks.”

author speaks: welcome to the first proper chapter! Hope you enjoyed it :)

[writingtips-resources]

Here's How I Structure a Multi-POV Novel Without Confusion

Multi-POV novels—the kind that can either be a masterpiece or an absolute mess if you’re not careful.

When I first started writing one, I thought, How hard could it be?

But now, after some trial, error, and a lot of coffee-fueled nights, I’ve nailed down a structure that keeps things clear and engaging for readers.

Let me walk you through it—step by step

The First Rule is Every POV Must Have a Purpose and Unique Voice

If a POV doesn’t add something valuable to the story—cut it. Readers shouldn’t have to wade through pointless internal monologues about side character #47's childhood traumas.

Ask yourself:

Does this POV reveal crucial information the reader wouldn’t otherwise know?

Does it deepen emotional stakes?

Does it move the plot forward?

If you’re nodding along then.....

Good—you’ve earned that POV a seat at the table.

Imagine this:

you’re halfway through a chapter, and you can’t figure out who’s narrating.

Disaster, right?

That’s why giving each character a unique way of speaking, thinking, and being is non-negotiable.

Here’s how I do it:

Lucas: Logical, sharp, always weighing pros and cons. He’d say something like, “Emotions don’t win battles. Plans do.”

Sophie: Spirited, emotional, and unapologetically blunt. Her take? “Oh, great. Another lecture from Mr. Perfect Plan.”

See the difference? It’s not just what they say—it’s how they process the world.

The Second Rule is "Anchor Each POV with a Clear Voice and Goal"

Each character’s perspective should feel distinct. If readers can’t tell your brooding knight from your witty rogue based on narrative voice alone, you’re in trouble.

Try these tips for Voice

Adjust sentence length (a soldier might speak in short, clipped thoughts, while a scholar might ramble).

Use vocabulary that fits their personality.

Keep internal thoughts consistent with their motivations.

Also, keep in mind that "Every POV character has their own agenda".

If Lucas is all about closing a business deal, and Sophie’s trying to uncover the truth about her goddaughter’s past, their internal monologues and actions will naturally feel distinct.

Here’s what that looks like:

Lucas is obsessing over a strategy: “The numbers didn’t lie. If she couldn’t see that, it was her loss.”

Sophie is focused on her next big move: “I wasn’t backing down. Not until I got the answers Alex deserved.”

The goals drive the story forward by keeping their perspectives crystal clear.

The Third Rule is "Make the Transitions Crystal Clear and in Flow

Head-hopping mid-paragraph? Please, no.

Switching POVs mid-scene without a clear break? Also no.

Please understand that "Smooth transitions are key". Instead of jumping abruptly from one character’s head to another, I leave breadcrumbs. Like:

End Lucas’s chapter with: “I’d like to see her try.”

Start Sophie’s chapter with: “Challenge accepted.”

It’s seamless, keeps the pacing intact, and gives readers a little thrill.

Here are three golden rules for smooth transitions:

Use chapter or scene breaks.

Start each new POV with a strong opening line that grounds the reader.

If possible, include the POV character's name at the beginning.

Also, one more thing to add( before i forget)

"Use the setting to ground readers in a character’s world. If the scene opens with a high-rise office view, they’ll know it’s Lucas. If it’s a messy studio with books everywhere, it’s Sophie".

The Fourth Rule is "Keep Timelines Straight"

If two characters are narrating events that happen simultaneously, make sure the timeline aligns. Readers shouldn’t have to create a conspiracy board to figure out who was where and when.

I always create a timeline cheat sheet for myself. Sticky notes. Spreadsheets. Hieroglyphs on my office wall.

Choose-Whatever works for you...

Also, you should Clear Breaks Between POVs

No reader wants to play detective to figure out whose head they’re in. I stick to clear chapter or scene breaks for each POV switch. And yes, I label chapters with the character’s name when needed.

For example:

Chapter 5: Lucas I wasn’t in the mood for interruptions, but Sophie didn’t care about moods. Or interruptions.

Chapter 6: Sophie He looked at me like I’d just derailed his perfectly planned life. Honestly, I probably did."

The fifth Rule is "Maintain the Balance among POVs"

Not every character needs equal screen time, but every POV should feel intentional.

Main characters can carry more chapters.

Side characters should pop in when their perspective really matters.

Readers love patterns. If you’re alternating between two or three characters, stick to that order as much as possible. Don’t go: Lucas, Sophie, Lucas, Sophie, Random Villain. Chaos.

And please, for the love of storytelling, don’t introduce a new POV in the final 10 pages unless you’re trying to give your readers whiplash.

One of my favorite tricks is 👇

Ending a POV with a cliffhanger, then switching to another character. It’s a love-hate moment for readers—they have to keep going to find out what happens.

The Sixth Rule is "Work on Emotional Arcs because They Still Matter"

Every POV character needs their own emotional journey, even if they’re not the protagonist. Readers should care about their stakes, struggles, and triumphs.

Some of Key Emotional Arc Considerations are👇👇👇👇👇

What is the character's primary goal or motivation?

What obstacles or conflicts are preventing them from achieving it?

How does the character evolve or transform by the conclusion of their arc?

NOW, It's time to Test It Out (Seriously)

Hand your manuscript to a beta reader or your critique partner or maybe a writer fellow- and ask:

Did any POVs feel unnecessary?

Were the transitions smooth?

Did you ever feel lost or confused?

If they respond with, “Oh yeah, I knew exactly whose head I was in every chapter,”

Then

Boommmm—you nailed it

Share your favorite examples of well-structured multi-POV novels in the comments, and let’s discuss what made them effective.

Feel free to highlight specific techniques or moments that stood out to you.

free resources, blog, services,

[speedycoffeedelight]

An Animalistic Disaster

Summery: You recently moved to a cabin in the woods for some peaceful time alone. But that is ruined when somehow a wide variety of different animals invade your space out of nowhere. Was this your Disney princess era or is there something more to it..

Also a crazy killer seems to be also on the loose as of now. And this guy who seems to be your new neighbour seems suspicious. Is there any connection?

(I kinda just had some scenarios made in my mind with the hazbin crew as animals so I decided to write them(◕ᴗ◕✿) )

Master list

CH-1: The fluffy and the winged friend

As you turned the key,the door opened with a click. A gust of dusty air left the cabin as you opened the door. Coughing a little you started to look for the light switch with your hand. Soon you found it and turned it on as light filled the room. It was the kitchen from the looks of it. There was an old stove on the left side of the room,followed by a sink and a countertop.

On the right side was a wooden sofa. It look to be in bad shape as some of its parts had been eaten by bugs.You took a mental note to fix that later. There was a small stool beside the sofa which looked pretty okay. There was also a window above the sink. You went there and opened it to let some fresh air in. There was two more room to explore. You went in the right one.

This time it was a bedroom. There was a queen sized bed on a corner. Alongside it was your wardrobe and on the other side of the room was a chair and a table, all of which you made sure to be moved here before you came. There was a door in there too which you guessed was the bathroom. You went to the window above the table and opened it to let the sunlight in.

The other room was a bit spacious with a small fireplace and some old books with shelves in a corner. There was a lounge there too. Everything looked pretty neat for now.After finishing your tour of the cabin you took a big breath.

You used almost all the money you saved up till now to buy this cabin around the woods. You really wanted to settle down in a quiet place close to nature from your childhood and it just seemed perfect.

"Welp,time to get some unpacking done"

You rolled up the sleeves of your shirt and went to the balcony where all of your stuff were left in a pile of boxes. You crouched down and picked up a box labeled 'kitchen' and started to work.

You took a break at noon to whip something up quick for lunch and rest. The rest of the unpacking was almost done by afternoon,as you didn't have much anyway. You went to get one last box that was left on the balcony. It was a bit bigger then other ones. You went to open it up,but suddenly it started to violently shake.

"What the-"

You quickly took a couple steps back. You don't remember placing something moving or vibrating in that box. At least nothing that would start moving by itself like a blender. Gulping down you you slowly inched to the box again. As you were close to touching the lid, it opened by itself. Being startled,you quickly retrieved your hands as a pair of horns poked through the box.

"Huh?"

Suddenly that something with horns jumped in front of you from the box. It was a sheep, a small fluffy adorable sheep. Following its jump, an ashy moth also flew out from the box and sat on the sheep's horns.

You were confused as hell. How the heck did a whole ass sheep and a big moth get inside your box? It didn't seem like the boxes were open beforehand. But swatting away that confusion,you focused on what to do with the two little creatures in front of you right now.

Your cabin was surrounded by woods on one side and it was far from safe for a little sheep like it. Plus you really wanted to pet it for some reason. Deciding you'll keep it with you for however long You can. You slowly started to get close to it holding out your hand.

The sheep was looking at you curiously and started to walk over to your hand. While the moth seemed to be tensed by you almost.

Slowly the sheep was under your reach. You softly put your hand on it head and began to pet it. The sheep closed it eyes which you think meant it was enjoying it. The moth seemed to be comfortable too now. Looking closer, you noticed the moth was missing one of it's eye. There was a cross where it's left eye should be.

Normally you weren't a big fan of moths. But this one really looked pretty. You mentally cursed whichever thing that made such a cute creature look like this.

Now you slowly tried to pick up the sheep so you can carry it to your room. You had some vegetables left over that you could give to the sheep.

"Hey there darling,come with me. Let's get you some food alright..?"

You spoke in a soft voice attempting to reassure it. But then it hit you that they wouldn't understand your language. You mentally facepalmed yourself right then for your stupidity. But to your surprise,it came closer to you and let itself be picked up. Even looking a bit happy in the process if that was possible. You heart absolutely melted at the sight of it and the soft fur. The moth flew and sat on top of your head.

"Well then, let's get going,shall we?"

You said as you walked back into the cabin with the small sheep in hand and moth on your head. At least you wouldn't feel lonely in this cabin tonight.

(A/n: just trying to get the environment figured out in this chapter and I'm not really good with it:') )

(Also this is already published in both ao3 and wattpad under the same name. But I wanted to publish it here too and see how it goes. The artwork isn't mine!!)

[aurorawhisperz]

ethan x fem!reader who smokes 🤭

“What are you doing?” You jumped slightly at the sound of Ethan’s voice. He frowns at the sight of you on the ground and holding a lighter. “Am I interrupting something?” He asks.

“Yes.”

The curly-headed boy raises his eyebrows and looks around, “Doesn’t seem relevant enough to be interrupted.” He grins. You quickly hide the cigarette and sit up, feeling a bit embarrassed by being caught. “Go back to Chad or something.” You roll your eyes.

Every party you had went to, you usually snuck behind the frat house to smoke. Every. Single. One. You liked it when nobody came to look for you.

To your surprise, Ethan appeared next to you, looking a bit out of place.

“So, what are you doing here?” You exhale a puff of smoke. Ethan wasn't exactly known for attending these kinds of parties, so seeing him here was unexpected.

He hesitated for a moment, then finally took a seat next to you. “Mind if I join you?”

You shrugged, taking another drag. “Not at all. Enjoying the party?” Ethan glanced around, a faint blush tingeing his cheeks. “Yeah, it's... different from what I'm used to.”

You chuckled softly. “Well, these parties can be a bit of a shitshow. People usually come here to let loose and rub up against each other.”

“Rub up against each other.” He repeats, chuckling. “I just realized we don’t really hang out, since you’re always with.. my sister and stuff.”

You look at him, surprised that he's addressing the elephant in the room. Your mind races for a moment as you try to figure out his intentions.

Ethan’s voice seems a bit nervous, and he avoids your gaze, focusing on his fidgeting fingers.

“Yeah, you're right,” You reply with a soft smile, taking another drag from your cigarette. “We're usually caught up with the whole friend group dynamic.”

Ethan lets out a relieved laugh, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “Yeah, exactly. It's like we're all connected through each other, but I've been curious about getting to know everyone better.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden openness. “Well, what do you want to know?”

He looks up, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before he glances away again. “What do you like to do when you're not at parties?”

Considering his question, realizing that you don't often talk about these things with anyone. “I'm a bit of a book collector, actually. I enjoy reading, and I'm into photography too.”

There’s something about him that feels magnetic this time, being this close and looking at him. It almost feels like a need instead of a want.

The night air starts to feel chilly, and you can't help but shiver slightly. As you take another drag from your cigarette, Ethan glances at you, concern evident in his eyes. “Hey, are you cold?”

You chuckle softly, the cold breeze getting to you. “Guess I didn't dress for the weather.”

Ethan hesitates for a moment, then shrugs off his jacket. “Here,” he offers, holding it out to you. “I don’t really need it.”

You look at him, a bit surprised by the gesture. His jacket seems to be a comforting cocoon of warmth, and you hesitate for a moment before accepting it with a grateful smile. “Thanks, E.”

The nickname made him turn all shades of red and pink.

He smiles back, a touch of shyness in his expression. “No problem. It's better than you freezing out here.”

As you put on his jacket, you're met with its familiar warmth and a faint hint of his cologne. It's a surprisingly intimate gesture, one that makes you feel closer to him in this quiet moment. The chilly night no longer bothering you.

The conversation continues, Ethan seems even more at ease, a genuine smile lighting up his features. The two of you talk about everything from ice cream flavors to childhood memories, each exchanged feeling more comfortable than the last.

Ethan glances at your cigarette and chuckles. “Let me try.” A sheepish grin on his face.

You smirk playfully. “Well, if you're curious, I guess you can try it. But Quinn would go crazy.”

Ethan chuckles softly, his eyes lighting up mischievously. “Actually, I don't think she would care.”

You notice that Ethan's gaze lingers on your plump lips for a moment, and your heart skips a beat. Without fully realizing it, you lean in slightly, drawn by an invisible string between you.

His eyes meet yours, his breath hitching as he leans in as well. It's a moment frozen in time, one where everything seems to hang in the balance.

Just as your lips are about to touch, a loud crash echoes from somewhere behind you, and you both startle, pulling away from each other. You turn to see a purse rolling on the ground, having been thrown out of a frat house window.

You can't help but laugh. “Definitely not the most romantic timing.”

He chuckles nervously, running a hand through his brown curls. “Yeah, I guess not.”

•

The party had started winding down already, and you find yourselves by a streetlight now. “I had a really great time talking to you, (NAME).”

“Unexpectedly fun.” You joke, and look down. Your phone lights up with Quinn's name. “I have to, um, go.” You manage an awkward smile.

But before you can continue, Ethan's lips are suddenly on yours. It's a gentle and fleeting kiss, a promise of what could have been. His touch is soft, his intent clear, and just as quickly as it happened, he pulls away, his cheeks flushed.

How could this boy be so hot and awkward at the same time?

Ethan steps back, a shy smile on his face. “Sorry about that. I couldn't resist.”

Your heart races, and you can't help but smile in return. “No need to apologize.”

As you fumble for your phone, Ethan's expression becomes playful. “You might want to answer that. Don't want Quinn thinking you're avoiding her.”

You step closer. “Well, this was unexpected, but I'm really glad we had this chance to talk.”

Ethan's smile becomes more assured, his gaze steady. “Me too. We should do it again sometime.”

Before he can continue, you lean in and places a quick, soft kiss on his cheek. “Goodnight.”

This night, this boy, this connection, this memory. You were never gonna let it go. It all just happened with a cigarette.

[badomensgoodomens]

BAD DECISIONS

CHAPTER FIVE

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Merry christmas!!!! haven't touched bad decisions in a while because ive been hella busy, but wanted to get this out before christmas. enjoy!!

taglist at the bottom

Sunlight poured through the cracks of the floral and fading curtains, illuminating Noah's sleeping form on the bed. The room was nostalgic, filled with memorabilia from his teen years, and even his first guitar. Across the hall was Nicholas’s old bedroom, the two seeking refuge here during every work break. As the town gradually transitioned into winter, the apple trees in Nicholas’s parents backyard began to lose their leaves. Christmas was approaching rapidly. 

Christmas was a particularly hard time for Noah, his strained relationship with his family being the cause of that. Sherene welcomed him with open arms during Christmas, always buying him gifts. Her kindness was very apparent in Nicholas as he grew older,   mother like son. She made a mean mint hot chocolate, and always made it a mission to bring Noah and Nicholas one every morning. 

For Y/N, Christmas was the absolute worst time of the year. No matter how hard Nevada and Dawn tried to make December enjoyable, the memories of growing up in a dysfunctional household had left a mark that couldn’t be easily erased. The holiday, meant to bring joy and warmth, only served as a bitter reminder of everything Y/N wished they could forget.

She poured her feelings into journals – a common christmas present for her. Even when life felt right, it still was such a melancholic period of her life. Her mornings were spent sitting on the windowsill, watching the snow fall. 

Sitting beside her was a pile of letters, a series of festive cards from distant relatives. Almost all of them asked ‘how are your parents?’ It seems as though her parents couldn’t acknowledge the fact they abandoned their children, much less let the rest of the family know. Tired hands scribbled relentless harsh poetry into a leather-bound book, words poured out as tears streamed down her face. 

Most Christmases ended like this, and birthdays too. 

Christmas eve she spent sitting in bed, staring at the wall. The boys gave her time off work for Christmas, mainly so they could spend it with their own family. Instead of putting up decorations, or wrapping presents or making cookies, she soaked her pillows with tears. 

It wasn’t like she necessarily had a reason to cry, seasonal depression was a real bitch. Therapy wasn’t helping anymore, the ‘urges’ were still there, it was like a hole in the heart that could not be fixed. The city was still, for the first time in a long time. 

The clock read 12:00 am. 

The ringing of her phone made her jump out of her skin, eyes wide, once full of tears. Glancing down at the phone number, immediate recognition filled her body. She could recognise that number anywhere, the same number that used to call her every evening, asking her to come over. 

She fumbled with her phone, shaking fingers struggling to unlock it. Her body froze, contradicted between accepting or declining. It disappeared just as quickly as it came, her breathing slowed down. With shaky hands she pulled up her chats with him, sobs wracking her cold body. 

Merry Christmas, please don’t call. 

Read 12:02 am. 

NOAHS POV 

Fuck. that was a complete accident i didn’t mean to call her. 

I’d almost forgotten about her, completely wrapped up in my own life. It was dark, I was tired, and her name was right next to Jolly’s contact. The soft sound of rain echoed through my childhood bedroom, the window cracked ajar. I would most likely catch a cold considering it was the peak of winter, but the freshness kept my anxiety at bay. It was roughly the 3rd night I'd spent, staying up until midnight doing nothing. What's one to do without someone to hold close? 

Matt had found this really cute girl who works at a record shop, nicholas was still head over heels for ivy, nick was all over his neighbour, and jolly liked some redhead. It was almost like I was falling behind, I mean I'd always considered poppy an option, but that girl gets into too much controversy for my liking. With a sigh, I pulled up my notes app. The screen brightness was blinding, but I typed out some 2025 new year's resolutions. 

Get over this train wreck 

Find a new girl to cry over

I fell asleep quickly after that, not even bothering to plug my phone in, just letting whatever depressing song that was playing drown out the ridiculous thoughts flooding my mind. 

The next morning I woke up to Nicholas pounding on my bedroom door, rousing me from my slumber. I fumbled to turn the music off, smooth my hair over and open the door. “Hey man, you look like shit. C'mon we need to head into town.” I shut the door with a groan, heading towards the ensuite. Turning the shower on, hot steam filled up the room, fogging up the mirror. A random sleep token playlist on shuffle echoed through the green tiled bathroom, accompanied by soft humming as I shampooed my long hair.

The smell of citrus lingered in the confined space, long after I had gotten out of the shower, mixing with the scent of my cologne. I sat on top of the bathroom counter, tying my shoes when Nicholas walked in, mumbling about buying Ivy the perfect present. Downstairs you could hear the clatter of Sherene’s utensils as she prepared for this evening's Christmas dinner. The familiarity of it was soothing, but as I got older Christmas started to lose all meaning. 

NEUTRAL POV 

The two of them cruised into the small, snow ridden town. It was rather busy for Christmas morning, small families bundled up in winter coats, rosy cheeks and presents in hand. It was bitter sweet, remnants of noah’s broken family threatened to still linger, but noah brushed them off. It took Nicholas approximately two fucking hours to pick a present for ivy, why he didn’t buy one earlier was beyond noah, especially considering ivy would be arriving THIS EVENING. He blames it on how long TDOPOM to produce, but we finished it a month ago, and it was on its way to be released. 

Eventually Y/N returned to work, needing the money more than anything, the atmosphere was sluggish and quiet, winter still being in full effect. She sat at her desk, replying to some angry emails from suppliers and whatnot, occasionally glancing outside at the snow fall. Soft music echoed through the intricately decorated office as she drew up some plans for the new album, her tongue sticking out slightly as she focused. Vessel, who unbeknownst to y/n, had been leaning against the doorway, cleared his throat. She yelped, turning around to face him, “what?!” “will you be able to work on feb the 25th?” he asked, stepping further into the room. “Uhh, hold that thought,” she replied, flicking through her phone. “Yeah i’m free, why?” He pulled out the chair next to her, sinking down into it. “Me and the boys got invited to Bad Omens release party for their new album. I'd bring you as a plus one, but we don’t have any extra staff to run the place other than you.” he explained, resting his hands on the back of his head. “No thanks, don’t like that band,” she waved him off, turning back to her drawing pad. 

“How come?” Vessel asked, straightening up. The air in the office was seemingly thick, awkward silence filling the air. “I don’t fuck with the main dude,” she responded vaguely. He quirked a brow, “come on, spit it out.”

…

“Quite the story if i do say so myself,” Vessel laughed, standing up from his spot. “Have fun though!” she called out as the door clicked shut. She turned back to her computer with a grumble, pulling up facetime and calling her sister. 

“Who the FUCK is natasha??” Her hurried typing fills the room, accompanied by her sister. “Wait wait wait have you seen the drummer hes really cute,” “who?” “his names nick folio” “okay i’m searching him up now” 

“OH MY GOD NEVADA IVE MET HIM BEFORE” 

“OH EM GEE WHERE?!?!” 

“AT WORK!!!”

“OH MY GOD SURELY HE’LL COME BACK AND I CAN GET HIS NUMBER AND-”

“WHO THE FUCK IS NATASHA???!!!!”

hi cuties!! How is everyone??

taglist @emluvsuxo @lacy1986 @lilcrazy011 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @briefpersonenemy @niicolelynn @looney-goose @sister-sebastian @dominuslunae @supersquirrel1996 @jilliemiw86 @amelia-acero @littlebear423

[evans23]

RICKMAS 2024 - DAY 11 - OUT OF REACH [B2]

Pairing : Judge Turpin x OC (Emily)

Summary : Turpin has her now. She is his. But she is still so out of reach.

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : Arranged mariage. Mention of harsh childhood. Stern school discipline. Stern father.

A/N : I didn't proofread, no time if I wanted to be on time !!!

UNWANTED SOLITUDE : Part I

TO BELONG : Part III

Also read on AO3 - Wattpad

Richard pulled back and watched her. He wanted to take her, right there, right now, and do a thousand and one other things to her. But when she was ready. If she said yes. If she said yes, he would introduce her to a world of carnal pleasure that would mix all of her depravities. He would cherish her, cherish her body, teach her that pleasure could be born from pain. But not by ripping her purity away tonight, even though he had every right to do so.

"I won't take anything you don't want to give me willingly, Emily. But I promise you that you'll end up begging me to make you mine," he said, his voice echoing like a clap of thunder.

Emily raised her head as if to make sure he meant it. At the same time, he placed a kiss on her forehead.

"Why did you choose me ?" she dared to whisper as he looked at her with his piercing gaze.

"Because you come from another world. A harsh world that has spared you nothing. You will appreciate everything I have to offer you. But don't get me wrong, the world I live in is the stuff of dreams for people like you, but there is more than just wealth and finery. Cruelty is just as present," he said.

It sounded like a riddle, but Emily didn't dare ask more questions.

"I just hope that one day, you can love me despite my faults," he added softly.

"And if I never fall in love with you ?" she dared to ask.

"Then, I will be satisfied with whatever you want to give me. That will be my sentence for the life I have led," he said without anger before turning away.

Emily stood alone, staring at the door he had just closed for several minutes before finally slipping into the large four-poster bed. Despite the comfort of the sheets, she barely slept, worried that he would come back, that he would take back his word. But in the early morning, she heard the front door slam. She rushed to the window that overlooked the street to see him dressed in his traditional austere attire, his top hat on his head, his cane clicking on the dirty London pavement to go to court.

And very quickly, she discovered that the court was her husband's mistress. He spent all his time there, even on weekends, and when he wasn't there, he worked in his office in the manor on his heavy files. They only saw each other at dinner and sometimes a little in the evening before each went to their room.

Regularly, the maid brought her gifts from her master. Jewels, books, and one evening even a small leather purse that contained more coins than Emily had ever held in her hands.

"Your monthly allowance for your private expenses, Madam," the maid told her before she withdrew.

The young woman, who had just emerged from her bath and was ready for bed, wrapped herself in a silk dressing gown and walked barefoot to her husband's study. No sound came from within. She took a deep breath, then knocked timidly on the door. A sharp "come in" made her jump and she wanted to slip away, but she forced herself to push the heavy chain door open.

"Emily ?" asked Turpin, surprised to see her in the doorway.

At once, his stern features relaxed. He had not expected it to be her.

"I..."

"Something askew ?" he asked, seeing her hesitate.

Seeing that she was standing by the door, he stood up, closed it gently, then took her hand and led her to an armchair by the fireplace where he sometimes read late at night when he needed a break.

"I... my maid gave me this," she said, handing him the leather purse.

Richard raised an eyebrow, not sure what was troubling his young wife.

"Isn't it enough ? It's a little more than what my father gave my mother, one of the few indulgences she was entitled to and she valued it more than anything. She always had plenty for her little pleasures," he said, trying to catch her eyes.

"No, it's not that," she answered in a trembling voice, "it's that... what am I supposed to do with it ?" she asked, finally looking him in the eye.

Richard stood there for a moment, biting his lip to keep from laughing.

"The spent ?" he suggested, trying not to make fun of her.

"But, you forbade me from leaving the manor without you and everything I need is bought by the servants who take care of supplying the house," she said, lowering her eyes, "and you're already paying for that," she added shyly.

Richard smiled indulgently. If he had forbidden her to leave the manor in his absence, it was only for safety. The streets were dangerous for the wife of the High Judge of London, The Death's Judge. And she was right, a servant took care of buying the few cosmetics and soaps to the lavender sent she was asking for. Nothing too extravagant, which had surprised him at first.

That's why he had decided to give her this small grant every month, so that she would feel less shy about spending her money, but he suddenly realized that she didn't want anything more than what she was already asking for. No expensive jewellery, no fashionable dress. It suddenly hit him harder than before they got married: she came from a family where every penny counted and she was afraid to spend. She must have thought that what she was asking for was already too much when he could have offered her two mansions like the one he already owned if she asked him.

"If you don't know what to do with it, put it away somewhere, and if one day something really makes you happy, you'll have money instead. You won't have to ask me for permission."

Emily looked up, surprised. She had never expected this from this man. However, a small voice asked her if she was sure that he was acting only out of love and kindness or if he was manipulating her to have her under his thumb. She suppressed a shiver, contenting herself with thanking him before withdrawing, but he stopped her by gently grabbing her hand.

"Would you share a tea with me before you go to bed? Or a hot chocolate ? It is a pleasure that I have recently discovered and I must admit that I never tire of it. The kitchen cupboards are now full of this delicacy that I discovered during an evening at the Haghroves."

"My father never had enough money to buy chocolate," she said, her eyes shining.

Facing her contained joy, Richard allowed himself to smile. He rang a maid to order two cups of hot chocolate and while they waited, he asked her a few questions, nonchalantly.

"Do you have everything you need ?"

"Yes, thank you."

"And is your room warm enough ? I can have a servant get up at night to make sure the fire doesn't die too early if it doesn't."

"No, there's no need to bother a servant. The blankets keep me warm."

He felt frustrated by her measured and timid answers, but he said nothing. He had to be patient, he knew.

When the hot chocolate arrived, he couldn't help but watch her taste the thick liquid, and the smile she gave right after was worth the wait.

"Is it to your liking ?" he asked, taking a sip of his own hot chocolate.

"It's delicious. I think I could get used to it," she said with a small, quiet laugh.

"You just have to ask. You can have one every night if you like."

She gave him a genuine smile that warmed his heart.

"May I escort you to your room ?" he asked, when she had finished.

She nodded and he took her arm, noting with satisfaction that she made no attempt to pull away from him.

"Good night, Emily," he said, kissing her forehead when they reached her bedroom door.

Without waiting for a reply, he headed for his own room, two doors down. And that night, for the first time, Emily fell asleep wondering if she had judged him a little too quickly.

"She is diligent, but, sir, she has work to do before she can be introduced to society."

It was Mrs. Andrews, an old governess known for having raised many of London's most prominent ladies. Her stern face, which was almost austere in a bun and her dark clothes, was in no way inferior to the natural severity that Turpin exuded in his everyday life.

"But she can do it ?" Richard asked, raising an eyebrow.

"If she keeps trying as hard as she does, yes. But, sir, if you will allow me..."

The governess waited for Richard to give her permission to continue, which he gave with a curt nod.

"Madame is intelligent, no doubt, and her reading proves that she is capable of thinking for herself. But I fear that Madame thinks a little too much. She will have to learn to keep her wits about her if she does not wish to embarrass you in society."

Richard suppressed a smile, but he was not truly worried. He was certain that Emily, with practice, would learn to hold her tongue outside the walls of the manor.

"And she's also lacking in some subjects. In many things a lady should know. She doesn't speak a foreign language, doesn't play a musical instrument, her knowledge of history is limited and... good Lord, I've never seen such clumsy embroidery as I have little girls of five."

"You're paid, handsomely paid, to teach her everything she needs to know," Turpin pointed out dryly.

"Of course, sir, but I think she would benefit greatly from the help of a tutor to educate her. She should at least learn French and know the history of our country like the back of her hand seems important to me."

Richard stroked his chin with his fingertips, feeling the hairs of his budding beard scratched under his nails.

"You're right," he finally said, "I'll leave it to you to choose a tutor for her. The best."

The old governess left satisfied. It would take a long time to make Emily a woman worthy of her new rank, but she would get there.

However, what Richard had noticed was not his wife's lack of knowledge in certain areas or the fact that she sometimes spoke without thinking. No, what brought him great satisfaction was that she was trying. Despite the fact that the situation was still tense between them, that the marriage had not yet been consummated after almost a month of union and that she still seemed so out of reach, she was sincerely trying to integrate into her new world, into her husband's world.

Richard and Emily shared their breakfast at the dining room table, one of the few rooms in the manor that benefited from a large part of the natural light thanks to its large windows. Richard had just introduced Emily to another of the pleasures of the table: fruit dipped in melted chocolate.

"It's delicious," she said, chewing on the piece of chocolate-covered apple he'd just handed her.

"I'm glad you like it, but before I forget," he began, standing up.

He went to the dresser drawer behind him and pulled out a book.

"I have a gift for you."

He handed her a book with a worn cover. It wasn't new, but it was a first edition of a work she'd told him about one day while walking through the manor's gardens. A book she'd wanted so badly to own but had never managed to scrape together the money before it was taken from the bookstore.

"How did you know ?" she asked, her eyes shining with emotion.

"You told me about it one afternoon. I haven't forgotten," he answered simply.

She opened it carefully as if it were the most precious of treasures.

"It's not new, but when I visited Lord Softhshire, I saw it and he agreed to sell it to me, it's..."

"It's beautiful, thank you," she interrupted him.

The sincerity in Emily's eyes made Richard's heart swell with love. He was certain that if his father had given his mother an old, worn book, she would have had a fit, even if it had been a first edition. Although on reflection, his mother would have had a fit at the very idea of ​​receiving a book, she who was not a great reader.

The end of October was fast approaching and with it the gloomy sky seemed to weigh everything down. A month. It had now been a full month since he had been married and Emily was still as out of reach as ever, to Richard's great dismay.

However, he covered her with gifts, she received her small monthly grant and her father no longer lacked anything. But she remained indifferent and he who had thought that it was only a matter of time before she accepted the conditions of their marriage, that all this had been done only for her good and that his love for her was sincere, was now beginning to doubt.

"Is everything okay ?"

Emily's frail voice interrupted his train of thought. He raised his gray, expressionless eyes to her.

"Yes. A court case that is taking me longer than I thought," he lied.

He was about to get up to go to his office when she asked him timidly if he wanted to accompany her to the gardens to walk with her.

Surprised that this request came from her for once, he did not hesitate for a second to accept.

"Are the lessons with your tutor going well?" he asked although he already knew the answer.

"Yes, I'm learning a lot. He's more patient than..." she stopped suddenly, biting her lip.

"What ?" Richard insisted gently.

"I... I went to a small girls' school when I was a child and... Well, I mostly learned discipline there with rulers. He said it taught us discipline, obedience to our parents and our future husbands and obedience. All I learned was distrust," she admitted, a slight blush on her cheeks.

"I understand," he said, taking her cold little hand in his, "in boarding school, I was no stranger to this kind of method. And even at home. My father was... well, he was a father and he believed that every misdeed, no matter how small, should be corrected. With his riding crop preferably, for me as well as for my two younger sisters. I was later entitled to the whip, to teach me to be a man, a real one," he explained bitterly.

Hearing this, Emily's heart hurt a little bit. She knew Richard wasn't the only one who had experienced this kind of discipline. It ran in every family, rich or poor. Her own uncles had always been much harsher with their sons, though some girls were no exception.

"My father was always good," she said, squeezing Richard's hand in hers, "he always protected me. I never had to fear his hand in our home, but he also wanted me to have a chance at an education. He said that knowing how to read and write was the key to knowledge, so... he sent me to school longer than he really wanted."

She stopped to look at him and for the first time, he saw a glimmer of understanding in her beautiful green eyes. And for the first time, he felt truly connected to her.

"You've had to endure things you didn't deserve, Emily. But there will never be any of that here, in our home, and you will never have to fear me."

"I don't think you deserved to endure what you've endured either. But... I don't want to... if we ever have children, they will never have to fear you either."

Richard didn't answer, but a strong emotion took hold of him. "If we ever have children." It meant that she was considering a real future with him and that maybe she was even becoming less out of reach than he thought.

When they shared their dinner that night, Richard knew that something had just changed between them. For the first time, she was seeing him beyond the mask he wore, for the first time she was no longer seeing The Death's Judge. And she, by confiding this piece of her past to him, had given him access to a vulnerability that she normally kept to herself.

Emily, for her part, could not deny Richard's obvious efforts. Even less the increasingly strong attraction she felt for this man she had first taken for her jailer. For the first time, she considered that she could truly be happy with him.

That evening, the day had been hard. Richard was exhausted, endless sentences, making him lose faith in the human race. But the idea of ​​going home and sharing a hot chocolate with Emily was enough to make him feel better.

"Emily, is everything okay ?" he asked as he entered the large living room where she was sitting in front of the window, observing the horizon that the dark night covered, hiding the gardens from her view.

"It's nothing, I was just lost in my thoughts," she murmured. "And can I share your thoughts ?" he dared to ask, a hint of caution in his voice.

"I... I prefer to keep them to myself. If you don't mind," she replied, lowering her eyes.

Richard didn't insist, but he was slightly hurt. If only he could have guessed what the young woman was thinking. That the one who seemed so out of reach was thinking of him, of the love she was beginning to harbour for this man she hadn't wanted. But she was too afraid to tell him.

But the coldness of her answers was starting to get on Richard's nerves.

"Emily, have I done anything since our marriage to deserve such coldness ? Have I broken my promises ?"

She looked up, surprised by his tone.

"N... No," she stammered, "you are very generous. More than I would have imagined," she admitted.

"Then why do you continue to push me away ? To treat me like a stranger ?"

"I..."

She didn't know what to say. Her natural reserve kept her from opening up more, and then, there was always that hint of doubt. How could she be sure that he wasn't still hiding who he really was from her ?

"I know I bought your hand," Richard began cautiously, "but, Emily, you know, very few marriages begin with love. I know that's what you've read in your books, but books aren't the truth. If you'd give us a chance, you'd see that I can be more than The Death's Judge."

She didn't answer, her thoughts a whirlwind that made her heart beat faster, too fast. She finally lifted her head, a slight smile on her lips, and that was enough for Richard. At least for the moment.

"Are you reading a storybook ?"

Richard's baritone voice made her jump. She hadn't heard him arrive. "I found it among yours. My father used to read me this book when I was a little girl," she confided to him.

Richard had noticed that she was opening up more and more. Always in bits and pieces, but he cherished every fragment she was willing to give him. He dared to take a chance by asking her about her mother.

"I don't remember much about her. She died when I was only four. After that it was just my father and me. My grandmother a little, but she couldn't read. She died when I was eight years old."

"My mother never read to me. My father, he was only used to discipline. Except for my sisters, he disciplined, but he also loved them. They were entitled to much more attention than me. Especially Anne, she has always been his favourite."

Emily looked at her with pain.

"Do you think your father didn't love you ?"

"I think... he loved like a father of our time. Men discipline, women comfort and love children. Except for my mother, my mother preferred to go out with her friends to chic tea rooms or hang out in her boudoir."

"My father wasn't like that. But I know I was lucky, I know he's the exception," she said, gently reaching out her hand toward Richard's without daring to take it.

"I'm glad you had someone good by your side," Richard whispered to her before continuing, "but I don't only have bad memories with my father. He taught me to ride a horse, something that only he and I shared. And the older I got, the more he and I understood each other."

"Is it to please him that you became so hard?" she dared to ask.

Richard thought for a moment.

"Maybe. But he didn't make me wholly. I was already a young boy with a strong temperament."

And calculating, and manipulative, and quick to get whatever he wanted through trickery, he thought without saying it out loud.

November was well underway. Richard and Emily had been married for two months soon. A union that had still not been consummated. And that frustrated Richard terribly. He wanted her. He wanted to make her his. But she was always out of reach.

Yet, she confided more and more. Strangely, she had the power to make him talk. About his childhood, his studies, his work, his shadows but also about the light that she managed to see in him.

And this light made Emily pensive every time she perceived it. She thought more and more about Richard, the sincerity in his voice, his measured gestures, his gaze that always seemed so full of affection when he looked at her.

This That night, she couldn't sleep. After tossing and turning, she decided to go to the library to get a book. Except when she came back in, she was surprised to see Richard sitting in front of the fireplace, a book of poetry in his hand.

"Emily ?" he asked when he heard the door creak.

"I couldn't sleep," she justified herself, "I wanted to get a book."

"Take whatever you want," he said with a kind smile.

"Do you like poetry ?" she asked, pointing to the book he was reading.

"Tonight, I like it."

She looked at him, her gaze hesitantly moving between him and the chair across from him. She finally sat down next to him. Richard held his breath at the initiative.

"Do you want me to read for you ?"

She nodded, almost imperceptibly, and inside, Richard's heart seemed to explode.

Richard's deep voice filled the room like a lullaby. When he was done, she thanked him half-heartedly before heading back to her room. And once again, she left Richard in a confusion that he feared would drive him mad. She was there, so close, and yet so out of reach.

November was drawing to a close, and by early morning, a light dusting of snow had surprised the streets of London. Richard hated snow. It was dirty, cold, and wet. Luckily, it was Sunday, so he didn't have to go to court.

"I like snow," Emily told him.

Of course she does, he thought. There were no two people more different than he and she.

Emily opened her mouth several times to speak, but each time, she closed it, silent. Richard did not push her. He could sense that she had something on her heart, but if he pressed her she might escape him, like the shy bird she was.

"Why are you so patient with me ?" she finally asked.

He straightened up to look at her and in his eyes, she read all the sincerity in the world.

"Because I love you."

That was his answer. Simple. Direct. Truthful. Falling like a judgment.

"I... I've always been afraid to love. To love is to lose those you love. To love is to suffer."

Richard took her hand, bringing it to his lips.

"Emily, I can't promise to be forever. But I'm here, now. And if you'll trust me, maybe we can enjoy the time we have." She squeezed his hand a little tighter, a small smile playing on her lips. And for the first time since their marriage, she didn't seem so out of reach.

[joenotexotic99]

Hi honey, I have to say I love your stuff. You write absolutely great. Could you do a headcannon on BoB and what type of love would you give them? I mean love at first sight, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, etc. I'd be happiest with Winters and Nixon and Speirs, but do what you will. Thank you.

A/n: here you go my love. When I finally re read the request I realized you might have wanted the pov's reversed but it was too late. Hopefully it's not too bad. I will happily switch it to reader pov if you wish.

Warnings:fluff

Masterlist

Richard winters

-friends to lovers. I don't think that this man thought of romance when he first met you. Attractive? Most definitely. However he had bigger things preoccupying his mind. Yet somehow at some point, you wiggled your way to being one of his best friends. Don't tell nix. Something about you practically scrambled his brain. He doesn't know when in the friendship he fell or if he fell in the very beginning. But when he realized just how much he loved you it was like he jumped off a cliff without a parachute. He knew right then and there you were it for him. He probably felt nervous telling you due to the fact that he never gave off the impression that he likes you. But let's just say the feelings were reciprocated.

"Dick, I have been flirting with you this whole time."

"Really??"

Lewis nixon

- love at first sight. This man took one look at you and said yes. He may not immediately start flirting with you out of respect, but he will damn well be tied to your finger. Will always open doors for you, and give you his coat when you're cold. So many acts of services. At one point you two were at a bar and some private made his way to your side to start a flirty conversation where he swears he got to hands'y. He knew that you were single but he was extremely jealous nonetheless. Eventually he had to leave to get some air. You followed shortly to catch up with him. You confronted him asking what has gotten into him as of late. He never wanted it to come out like this but it sort of just spilled out of him. He rambled on about his feelings before you cut him off with a kiss and a huge grin on your face.

"Shut up nix and take me on a date"

Ronald speirs

-Distance attraction, I don't know what to call it, this is the closest I can get. It just feels right. Basically, Speirs isn't quite love at first sight, he's the guy who needs to really get to know you to start building a relationship like that. However this man has a MASSIVE crush on you. But he's too prideful to say anything seeing how simping for someone isn't exactly in Ron's profile. He just admires you from a distance while simultaneously stuffing his emotions deep down. Much better in his book. Yet he still does his very best to be by your side at every moment possible even though he spends a lot of time trying not to think about how perfect you are. It's you who makes the first move. You obviously like him and you know he does too. It's obvious to everyone but no-one says a single word. And before you can finish telling him if he wants to go out some time, he's already agreeing.

"Yes"

"What?"

"You free Friday?"

Carwood lipton

-childhood friends to lovers. He was the boy next door. You two were friends from first grade through college. Sharing secrets, sleepovers, getting into mischief. Car started crushing on you when you two were teenagers. Said crush continued all the way until you two volunteer to join the paratroopers. War was hell but you seemed to make it just a little bit more manageable. His life in the war picked up significantly and he had a freight train worth of responsibility placed on his shoulders. Yet you never left his side. It wasn't until Austria that he confessed his feelings. He almost felt sick when he told you in fear of losing his best friend. It was short sweet at straight to the point. You were silent for what felt like an eternity. Lip almost took off in fear of rejection. He was stopped in his tracks by the sound of your laughter. He turned to hear you laughing with the biggest smile on your face.

"Clifford carwood Lipton, do you know how long I've been waiting for those words"

Joseph Leibgott

-Enemies to lovers. Your relationship started off Rocky. Your personality clashed and having a civilized conversation was seemingly impossible. Every time your paths crossed it was filled with banter, insults and tension. Sometimes it got to the point where someone needed to intervene. When you would walk into the same room that Joe would be in it's like the air seemed to thicken. The cold stares and passive aggressive comments. As the war progressed your comments never faulted but the tension you ask? It could be felt by an entire room. And all that hate seemed to not leave as bad as a taste in your mouth. Joe knew from the start that he hated and loved you. You know the type of enemies to lovers where it's like 'she's mine' and 'who did this to you?' It's giving that. He got so fed up with replacements trying to whisk you away so he simply grabbed you by the waist and kissed you.

"Don't lever leave with one of them alright sweetheart?"

"Wasn't planning on it"