#or they might imagine something cosy for them

[not-poignant]

hihi pia! youve said before that you like to leave a lot of the visuals up to the readers imagination with what you write, but i thought to ask can you explain maybe the layour of garys cottage? 😭😭 im so bad with stuff like orientation and space, and i struggle so much sometimes when i read and think ok, now where is that door they came from and where is that chair next to the table and that window. rereading the teacup incident & i just really cant make it work. its fine if not. ily!

Anon, very unfortunately, I am not an architect, and I just spent 30 minutes trying to draw this out which has highlighted to me that I know what the layout is but my job is actually writing and not...drawing the layouts of homes. (If only)

You can always just look up cosy cottages and then use that, anon!

The job of a reader (imho) isn't to imagine things exactly as they are, but go from the details they've been given and often relate that back to what they already know. Sometimes that might mean looking something up if it's genuinely something you've never seen before (karri trees), or relating them back to a tall tree you're familiar with (sequoias). In fact no reader imagines the same thing when they're reading. I could spend 1000 words describing a red cabinet and people will imagine 1000 slightly different variations anyway. Everyone has a different idea of 'red' and a different idea of 'wood' and a different idea of 'cabinet' and even if I lock down into the nitty gritty, if we're not living in the same country, our power sockets look different, our heating and cooling systems (and accommodations for them) are different, the fabrics we use are different (unless we all go to IKEA), the smells of the home are all slightly different.

I think even if I did draw it out successfully in two hours (which is not time I really have spare at the moment :/ I wish I did because I think it could be fun except that I don't want to download architecture software to make an actual blueprint of an entire cottage that's in scale but also shows exactly where the furniture will go which includes interior design as well x.x - and I do know exactly how it's laid out mentally, so I know I could make it work. (And I still might, maybe, but probably not while I have a 15 week old puppy I'm sorry anon D: ) But yeah doing it on paper has proven to me that actually writing out the location of like 50 different things means the blueprint becomes too small and messy to still tell what's going on. I wrote 'table and chairs' over the table and chairs and now you can no longer see the table and chairs in my sketch which is not useful!

There's a difference between the layout of a house and the layout of the objects and furniture in a house. I may have worked for an architecture firm, but I am not a house designer. *cries*

But! All you really need to know is that Gary can't see the kitchen cabinets from where he sits on the couch. Which means if someone crouches down and opens the cabinets, he can't see them either. There are a lot of houses that have layouts like this, especially houses that have a counter not just up against the wall, but in the middle of the kitchen.

For example in this image, if a couch was in front of the kitchen counter that's free-standing, and a person was sitting on the couch and looked at the free-standing kitchen counter, they would not be able to see the kitchen cabinets from the free standing kitchen counter, or what's in them. They can only see the counter. If the lounge was lower than the kitchen, they'd see even less.

In this image, if the couch was where the stairs are, you'd not be able to see what Efnisien was doing in the kitchen at all until he stoop and held up the teacup. If he kept the teacup low in his hands, you'd not be able to see it at all.

Because Gary's cottage is small, but open plan, the lounge has a view to the kitchen, but not directly into the kitchen.

There's lots of houses that feature this kind of architecture, so if you really want to go down that rabbit hole, you can just search different kitchens in cottages until you see one where if you sit on the couch, you can't see someone crouched in front of the kitchen cabinets.

Gary's free-standing kitchen counter is also multi-level like this is multi-level:

So someone could stand there and make a coffee and a person sitting on the couch wouldn't be able to see what they were doing. Ornaments and vases and notes etc. can go on the raised bit, and kitchen stuff can happen on the lower bit.

Ah marvel at my use of technical terms *cries again*

Anyway! I hope that helps somewhat. I'm mad that I can't draw this layout for you because I do wish I could just...mentally take people on a tour through this cottage. And it would be great to do that. But I am looking at the saddest most pathetic sketch in my sketchpad right now, and I used to work as an artist, but I'm just very very very very bad at this kind of technical drawing.

But maybe the teacup scene will make a little more sense now :)

[bvidzsoo]

The trace of you

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: psychiatrist!Jeong Yunho x patient!female reader

ꕤ Warning: bullying, mistreatment, ptsd, mentions of insanity & abuse, mental health talks, psychiatric diagnose, unethical thoughts and actions ꕤ Word count: 25.1k ꕤ Rating: mature ꕤ Genre: dated around the late 1800's, psychiatrist x patient, lots of yearning, mutual pinning, forbidden love, inspired by Alias Grace, angst ꕤ Summary: Being caged inside your home for a wrongdoing you can't even remember seems to not have the effect people have been expecting. With the arrival of a foreign doctor with studies unheard of before, your life takes a new turn. Will Doctor Jeong prove your innocence, or will he fall into your web like everyone else? Are you sane, or is he just as insane as his patients?

A/N: Helloo, my lovelies! ^^ Wrapping up this story took way too long due to me having some unplanned health issues that are still (?) kicking my ass...anyways, keep in mind while you're reading this that there are probably historical inaccuracies to this story, especially to South Korean history that I briefly read through when constructing Yunho character's background. The dresses MC wears also aren't the most accurate, but I hope you can look past that and imagine instead whatever you'd like. I watched the mini-series Alias Grace and was rather inspired by it, so you will find similarities to it within this story. I am no medical professional, so the diagnosis MC is given might be inaccurate even though I have taken my time to research these things. Let me know if I should tag anything else as a warning, and I really hope you enjoy this story as I have tried making it a bit different. Let me know your thoughts about it, I am always excited to read your feedback! <3 Oh, and, I hope Santa brings you something sweet tonight, this is my not so small present for you all! ^^ divider

            The old clock’s ticking seemed to only get louder by the second. The sheer curtains were pulled to the side to allow more sunlight inside the tea room, the grand doors opened to let in the late fresh summer breeze. The white hydrangeas lining the paths leading towards the back garden were gorgeous and carried a strong scent with them, I could smell it from my spot on the soft faded pink cushion of the sofa brought all the way from France. The tea room had been remodelled not long ago. There was something about it that gave old cottage vibes, but it has now been upgraded to a more fashionable Parisian feel. It was pretty, with hues of light peach and a darker coral, however, I used to like more the cosy feeling of the sage green and baby blue colours that had decorated the room once. Karina liked it more this way, she had said something about the lighter colours giving the impression of a bigger room. I did not understand why the tea room was required to look grander than it already was, but I didn’t question her judgment. It was best if I didn’t, not out loud, at least.

The servants were quietly waiting outside the room as my mother paced in front of us, Karina perched on a fancy chair with an abandoned book in her hands. I knew the ticking of the old clock and the silence was driving her mad, but I remained silent as I gazed forward, eyes on the gravel path. I longed to walk in the meadow close to our house, but I wasn’t allowed to roam around on my own. Even inside my own home, I was under constant surveillance. The doctors have said it was for my own sake, but it felt like I was in a continuous cage. It was suffocative, I couldn’t sleep some nights due to it, not even after drinking Mrs. Humphrey’s delicious camomile tea. My last hope resided in summer, in the warm breeze that kissed my cold skin, everything a lush green where I looked, to keep me sane. As sane as it could, since I was deemed a madwoman long ago.

Unlike the others who hired chauffeurs and dated carriages with old horses, this doctor arrived by a fancy patent motorcar. It wasn’t him driving it, at least the servants had whispered that to each other, but his long wool coat looked expensive too. My mother finally stopped pacing and Karina sighed in irritation when there was a knock at the front door. One maid stepped forward and opened the door for the doctor, gently greeting him. I couldn’t hear his voice, I was trying to catch the song of the birds outside, but I could feel the shift in the air. It was warmer inside as if the sun had stepped through our threshold. It warmed my skin like none other. Finally, the doctor was led towards the tea room, my back to him as my lips moved in a whispered song that comforted me. If I ignored the coil of my stomach and the sheen layer of sweat over my brows, I could convince myself that I was fine. That whoever came to check on me wasn’t another vicious man eager to torture a damned soul like mine.

“My apologies, ma’am, I am unfamiliar with these roads.” The man’s voice was deep yet soft, like honey, thick but inoffensive. At least if I told myself that, it calmed my rapid heartbeat. As I continued sitting rigidly, my fingers wrung together, the tremors never disappeared. It was something natural, the other doctors have concluded, something they couldn’t fix about me. Another thing they couldn’t fix about me. It was fine, I knew I had been damned a long time ago.

“Oh, it is no issue, we are glad you made it, Doctor.” My mother’s voice was filled with deep relief as the crease between her brows finally disappeared, hands locked behind her back as she rushed towards the entrance. Karina was surprisingly silent, but her expression spoke volumes. Her eyes had widened and her mouth had parted, fingers barely clutching the book in her hands anymore. I gulped, trying to steady my irregular breathing. I knew what was coming, the same questions and objects this doctor, too, would use to check my stability. I dreaded it all, I wanted to scream and throw a vase and make it shatter against the ground, but I would only be deemed even crazier. My eyes shook when I heard footsteps approach, heavier than those of my mother or Karina, it was the man. The Doctor. He was coming further inside, I could feel his eyes trained on my nape, no doubt curious and with a glint madder in his eyes than in mine, here to dissect me, pick me apart just to never fix me. I saw polished black shoes stop before me, and the lump in my throat almost made it impossible to speak up.

“Miss Harold, my name is Doctor Jeong Yunho.” Then, unlike any other doctor had done, this one’s knees bent until he was crouching in front of me, looking at me. His eyes were round and kind, a dark brown unlike my icy ones, and they were filled with warmth and softness I hadn’t seen in any other man. His nose had a perfect slope and his fair skin was sun-kissed, the apple of his cheeks a rosy red. His lips weren’t too big but pouty and full, asking to be traced gently by soft fingertips. I shuddered, completely taken aback by his youth and beauty. The man was from faraway lands, yet judging by his speech, you couldn’t tell until you saw him. He was gorgeous, he was breathtaking, “Would you feel safe if it was just the two of us in this room?”

No, I wanted to scream. My fingers tightened against each other, I gulped and hesitantly nodded, our eyes spilling into each other’s as if a spell had them locked together. His features were serene and sincere, not a frown on his beautiful face to create creases, just a soft smile pulling at his lips. It was disarming and frightening at the same time. Then, the doctor smiled even wider as he stood back up, his height intimidating. My heart raced as I watched him, unable to take my eyes off him. And he was still looking at me as he spoke up, “If you could excuse us, I’d like to speak to Miss Harold in privacy. It won’t take long, I promise. I’m only here today to familiarise myself with her.”

“Good, yes, Doctor, whatever you need.” My mother sounded reassured as she gripped Karina’s arm, yanking her out of the tea room as she seemingly didn’t want to go. Her eyes were fixed on Doctor Jeong, and her cheeks were blushed, “Would you like a cup of tea before we leave?”

“No, but thank you, Mrs. Harold.” The doctor hummed, his voice warm, as he sat across from me. He had no leather tool bag, nothing. He only carried a ragged satchel bag, a dark green with patches made to it, and it seemed mostly empty. My heart couldn’t settle down, not yet. Maybe his tools were hidden in the pockets of his long black coat. He hadn’t taken it off, and he looked like he wasn’t planning on staying for long. I couldn’t decide whether that thought reassured or unsettled me even more. Silence stretched on as we stared at each other, my throat dry, but I made no moves to drink from my fine China cup. I gulped when the doctor finally moved, reaching inside his bag. Here it came, the torture for the next hours, he was just like all those other doctors. I could feel tears prick at my eyes and my chest felt on fire, my lungs constricting, but the world seemed to stop moving when the man finally retracted his hand from inside his ragged bag. He held no tool to harm me, instead, a slightly withering daisy was gripped daintily between his long fingers.

“I plucked this for you on my way here, Miss Harold.” The doctor spoke, leaning forward to extend his hand towards me. A daisy, from a man like him. A man who felt like the sun itself, warming my cold particles, how unusual. When I did not move to take it from him, his happy expression seemed to fall slightly. Before he could feel more disappointment, I quickly leaned forward and grabbed it from his hand. Our fingertips brushed for a second and the doctor gulped, loudly. I loved wearing my copper hair in a simple bun, lined with fresh daisies. How coincidental that I had made myself a daisy crown just this morning, and now, the doctor had brought one for me. It would’ve been endearing if it was from a suitor, but I haven’t had one since I was sent to the asylum.

“Everything has a price, Doctor, what must I offer in exchange for this?” I found my voice, less shaky than I had expected. My insides were twisting in every possible direction, my heart hammering so fast it made me feel lightheaded. I wondered whether I’d remember the doctor tomorrow morning still. It wouldn’t be the first time I experienced sudden memory loss.

The doctor frowned, sitting back on the couch stiffly, “Perhaps, your honesty? Will you answer my questions?”

“Will you measure my head and poke at my skin like all those other doctors?”

“No, I’m not here to physically evaluate you. I’m here to glance inside your mind.”

“That unsettles me more than getting cut open to determine whether my blood is still red or not.”

“Had they done that to you?”

“Yes, you should rather ask what had they not done to me, Doctor Jeong.”

The doctor gulped, his dark eyebrows pulled together now and his lips downturned. He fished for something in his pocket, and a small pair of spectacles were placed low on his nose. It made him look more mature, more serious. I wondered if he wore it so that the other doctors would take him seriously, or whether because his eyesight wasn’t the best.

“I won’t cut you open, Miss Harold, I won’t even touch you during my examinations.” My heart skipped a beat despite hammering uncomfortably against my chest, and I wondered why. His words, however, did bring a little comfort.

“How will you determine what is wrong with me, then?” I raised my eyebrows, my fingers popping when I released the tension from them. I laid my palms flatly against my sage green dress, and the doctor’s eyes fleetingly glanced at them.

“By talking, by listening to your stories and thoughts.” The doctor spoke of a practice I hadn’t heard of before, “If you trust me, that is, your secrets will be safe with me.”

“Will they be?” I smiled, a little ashen, “The committee will want to hear what I said, there are no secrets we can keep with each other, Doctor Jeong.”

The doctor hummed, an almost amused smile pulling at his lips, “My profession requires me not to disclose anything personal, so, even if the committee wants to hear it, I won’t relay our conversations word for word, Miss Harold.”

I gulped, analysing the man’s face. He looked sincere, his eyebrows didn’t twitch and he wasn’t sweating despite the coat still around him. It was summer, and it was warm outside, albeit not inside the tea room, that is why the grand doors were opened to let the warmth in. This room reflected a lot about how I felt on the inside, always cold and hollow, waiting desperate for the warm sun to fill me up with its hotness until it burned me away. I wanted to burn, I wanted to be freed of all I had to endure until now.

“You need my honesty, but are you willing to be transparent with me?” My question seemed to take the doctor off guard as his eyes momentarily widened. Then, he clasped his long fingers together and placed his arms on his thighs, leaning forward in his seat.

“As long as it helps us move forward and remains professional, I can be transparent with you, Miss Harold.”

“You must’ve read the reports about me, do you think I’m mad, Doctor Jeong?”

“Isn’t everyone a little mad, Miss Harold?”

“I don’t know, you are the doctor between the two of us, Doctor Jeong.”

“Indeed, and I claim that nobody is without faults or sins.”

“Then you must be a religious person, no?”

“My profession contradicts my beliefs, yes, but I do believe there is something stronger and greater than us, Miss Harold. If we ask for forgiveness, we shall be pardoned.”

“Father Leon would love to have you at his service, Doctor Jeong.”

The doctor chuckled, a small smile settling over his lips as I realised I hadn’t looked away from the man since he had sat down on the couch. That was news. I never looked anyone in the eyes, as I didn’t feel comfortable. I had been told by previous doctors that they could see straight to my soul, my wicked mind and rottenness in the blueness of my irises. Now I never looked long enough to let them see what was inside my eyes, but this doctor didn’t seem to be afraid of me, of what he might find inside my eyes. Could he not see the darkness of my soul? Or was his faith so strong he preferred to spot the brightness before he was proven wrong by the wicked that permeated those like myself?

“Do you believe in God?” Doctor Jeong’s voice was louder than before, more filled with emotion as if my answer was crucial to him.

“I suppose I must. Everyone says the devil was the one to make me act like this, and I wonder where had God gone to let the devil do this to me.” Doctor Jeong’s cheeks became a darker colour as he licked his lips, mouth parting, but no words left it. I hummed, placing my right hand over my left one. Doctor Jeong wore one single band of silver ring on his middle finger on his right hand. He couldn’t have been married, then, I concluded.

“Perhaps you’ll find an answer to your question once I have done my job here.” Doctor Jeong’s tone caught a solemn note, but I said nothing as he grabbed his satchel bag and adjusted the collar of his white shirt. I watched the motion, eyes glued to the fair skin of his neck even as the man stood. His ears were flushing red too, I wondered why. I suppose the summer warmth had gotten to him at last.

“You are leaving already, doctor?” I asked as I looked up, standing when I realised he was about to depart. My mother had raised me with good manners, I would have even walked him to the front door if it weren’t for Karina suddenly barging inside, her jawline set tight as she sent me a fierce look of displeasure.

“Eager to have him all to yourself, sister?” Karina’s voice dripped with venom as she rushed further inside, rudely grabbing the doctor’s arm. What if he didn’t want to be touched? Karina lacked the awareness to consider that for a second. The doctor remained silent as he looked between me and Karina, and I just chuckled, looking down to the floor.

“I already have him all to myself, no need to be eager about it too.” The forced smile on Karina’s face would’ve satisfied me, but now I wanted both her and the doctor gone from my sight. My heart was racing again and I couldn’t breathe well, the tremors of my hands would’ve made me spill my tea if I were to drink from it. Perhaps Matilda could accompany me around the gardens, I wished to become one with nature for the remainder of the day.

“I shall see you tomorrow, Miss Harold.” Doctor Jeong bowed his head slightly before he let himself be dragged away by Karina, who sent me a glare that would’ve scared anyone else but me. I let them leave as I crumbled back onto the sofa, suddenly feeling faint. I couldn’t decide whether the doctor would pick my mind apart or not, and it was scarier that I had no idea how he’d do it.

            The air felt oppressive and thick, yet I could see the doctor’s motorcar approaching in the distance. Matilda had been kind enough to accompany me on my walk around the gardens, but she had rushed me back inside the tea room when my mother sent a butler to alert us that the doctor was fast approaching. Now, sitting on a chair by the open grand doors, I could see the dark clouds gathering around in the distance. It was as if they were trying to chase the doctor away, but he kept approaching until the motorcar's engine died down and his heavy footsteps echoed around the house. There was a knock at the door as my eyes watched a small white bird on a branch of a tree, my mind absent. The heavy footsteps approached further inside, and I turned my head to look up at the doctor.

“Hello, Miss Harold.” He said with an easy smile on his lips, holding his satchel bag in both hands. He didn’t wear a coat today, and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up. His nape was sweaty as the top buttons were unbuttoned. The heat had finally gotten to him, it could get rather cruel in this part of the county.

“Hello, Doctor Jeong.” The smile came easily to my face. Despite only meeting him yesterday, my heart wasn’t racing like before. Perhaps it was the absence of his leather tool bag and the fact that the man was so young and innocent-looking. Before we could proceed, however, there was a knock at the door.

“Doctor Jeong,” Karina’s unmistakable voice called out with a shake to it, “Would you like some tea before you start your…examination?”

“The heat is already killing me, but thank you.” He declined with a gentle flick of his wrist, yet Karina lingered in the doorway. She was only looking at the doctor, her favourite dress ironed out and tightly cinched at the waist. I turned in my seat and watched her with amusement. She wasn’t subtle at all.

“May I help you?” The doctor asked, sounding confused as Karina stood still and slightly jumped, looking down abashed.

“No, I’m sorry.” Then she finally departed, closing the door behind her as Doctor Jeong had asked. I slowly looked up at the handsome doctor, finding his eyes with ease as his spectacles were close to slipping off his nose again.

“Won’t you sit, Doctor?” I pointed towards the chair, which was placed a decent distance away from mine, just by the other door. The breeze had picked up into a strong wind now, it blew inside and rattled the sheer curtains. I welcomed it with closed eyes while the doctor settled in, the rustling of paper caught my attention as I slowly fluttered my eyes open once again. It was silent for a second as I looked at the doctor, who was already watching me. His pouty lips were parted and his ears seemed to be red. As my eyes travelled all over his fair skin, I noticed the glint of something silver underneath his white shirt. It appeared to be a necklace, and once he leaned forward to retrieve a pencil from his satchel bag, I spotted a silver cross hanging off it. He really was a believer, then.

“Did you want to sit here?” The doctor asked as he leaned back in his chair, crossing one long leg over the other. I hummed, clasping my hands together in my lap as the tremors slightly subsided. My heart was at ease, it finally wasn’t frantic like during breakfast and my walk in the gardens.

“Yes, I find nature most beautiful during this time,” I answered the doctor, turning my head to gaze at the white hydrangeas. Their scent was so strong I could almost taste it in my mouth.

“So, you like storms, Miss Harold?” The doctor asked and I chuckled, turning my head away when there was lightning in the distance.

“No, doctor, I’m terrified of storms.” I smiled as the doctor paused, he was jotting down my words in his notebook, I came to realise. He quirked an eyebrow, so I continued, “My father died saving me after I had fallen off the ship, the storm was terrible.”

The doctor hummed, his eyebrows slightly furrowing as he quickly noted what I had just said, “Are you afraid of water, then?”

“No,” I shook my head, our eyes meeting and staying locked as if we had been hypnotised by each other, “I’m only afraid of the destruction a storm can cause, even on land.”

“Have you seen many of those?”

“Yes, our neighbours’ barn was destroyed just last month, it was terrible.”

“Have you helped him?”

“As much as a woman can help, yes, I offered them my servants to help rebuild the barn.”

“Then you’re caring.”

“I suppose, if you say so, Doctor.”

“Do you not consider yourself a caring person, Miss Harold?” I smiled, watching the doctor’s expression even out as his pencil pressed a hole into the thin paper of his notebook.

“As a doctor, do you care for your patients?” I raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious since I hadn’t met anyone like him. If he dissected the mind, he must care for his patients, no?

“Within the limitations of my oath and law, yes, I do care for them.” Then the doctor seemed to consider his next words, licking his lips as his eyes bore into mine. They were wide and dark, and it was easy to get lost in them, “All I wish is to do is find a cure for them, to see them walk free of their shackles.”

“Can you cure madness, Doctor Jeong?” My voice sounded small, almost afraid. The doctor’s eyebrows furrowed as he averted his eyes, messily scribbling something down in his notebook. As I peeked at it, I realised the alphabet I was familiar with blended with one I did not know. Perhaps it was his mother tongue, then.

“Every person has a trigger, Miss Harold, if I find yours, I can cure it.” Then, he bit his bottom lip, and the added words were silent, “If you’ll let me.”

Silence stretched on, and I felt my heart race for the first time since I had seen the doctor today. It was unsettling, I felt my cheeks warm up. The redness from the doctor’s ears seemed to spread down towards his neck and chest, I wondered if his skin was as smooth as it looked at first glance. Then, without considering my next words, I let the truth slip past my chapped lips.

“I want to be free, sir, I don’t want to live like this for the rest of my life.” I had been young when I was convicted. My fate could have been much worse, but the men my father had been once acquittanced with owed him one, so they came to my aid. My sentence was very generous, the judge deemed me mad and unfit to be locked up in a women’s penitentiary, and instead, I was bound to constant surveillance for the rest of my life. Even when I slept, Matilda was there with me. Or my mother when the maid was too tired to continue keeping watch.

The doctor wetted his lips again, leaning slightly forward in his seat. The pencil was clutched tightly between his long fingers, and his tone had dropped lower too, “I can rid you of your burden if you’re honest with me, Miss Harold, I can set you free. But for that, you have to tell me everything that happened and made you do what you did.”

“Why won’t you say it, Doctor? Have you not read the reports? I was the talk of the whole town, still am, actually.”

“Something isn’t right about the reports, have you been truthful in your testimony?”

“Wouldn’t I be breaching the law if I wasn’t?”

“People lie all the time, Miss Harold.”

“May God forgive me for my sins, then, Doctor Jeong.”

A vein in the doctor’s forehead bulged as his jawline strained, mouth open but no words leaving his pretty lips. He huffed, then leaned back in the chair, eyebrows furrowing deeply as he wrote messily in the notebook once again. I smiled as I watched him, his black hair fell into his eyes as he looked down. His spectacles threatened to slide down his nose altogether, and I itched to fix it for him.

“Let’s start at the beginning, then, shall we?” The doctor’s tone had turned uncharacteristically soft as if he was talking to a frightened child. There was a fire in his eyes as he looked up once again and I gulped, feeling unsettled under his sudden undivided attention. His left palm pressed into the side of his thigh, his fingers tapping his black slacks rhythmically. I gulped, then nodded.

“What would you like to know about me, Doctor Jeong?”

“Tell me about your childhood. Your likes and dislikes, who is most dear to you and why. Have you loved before? Do you feel lonely now? Just tell me everything that crosses your mind.”

He wanted to know everything about me. It felt unravelling, dangerous. He had said my secrets would remain with him, would he note them down in the language only he spoke? Or would he tell the committee right after he was finished with his examination? Taking a deep breath, I turned my head to gaze outside once again, my lungs deflating as I exhaled long and loud. The lightning was closer now, the little birds were nowhere to be seen. Something coiled in my guts as my father’s face flashed behind my eyes, his warm smile and his kind tone still so present in my mind. If he were still here, perhaps nothing would’ve happened. There would be no Karina and Mr. Brooks, I wouldn’t be condemned for life.

“Much like I am afraid of storms, Doctor Jeong, I’m afraid of solace. It hadn’t always been like this, while my father was alive, I had never felt alone for even a second. He’d take me to the woods on horseback, we’d pluck flowers for my mother and he’d teach me everything he knew about the fauna and the poisonous mushrooms. He’d read stories for me before bedtime, and he had even taught me how to read. He was my favourite person, now it’s my mother and Matilda. She’s a young maid, we had found her hiding in the stable last winter. She was almost frozen to death, I thought I might be giving her a second chance at life if I took her in as my personal maid. She doesn’t speak much and I can’t tell whether she hates me or not, but I know she loves it when I take her on walks in the garden. I think she’s a little bit like me. Out there, in nature, we can both pretend to be free, just two girls roaming between flowers and giggling about the future.” The doctor’s hand seemed to be moving with my words, it was as if he tried to capture and note down everything I said. For that sole reason, I didn’t speak quickly, I let the words settle both in his mind and on his paper.

“I suppose my childhood isn’t anything special, I come from an aristocratic family, you must imagine what it was like. I was raised to have good manners and bow in front of men, but not without having an opinion and a mouth to voice them with. My father had been a fair man, he and my mother had always made every decision together, so he raised me to find a man who sees me as his equal and his other half. There had been moments when I had rebelled, I think that is only normal, but I was never a moody or explosive child. You can ask my mother about that, she’ll tell you so too.” I said as the doctor nodded along to my words, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. I took a deep breath and watched his face as I continued talking, “There was only one thing I loved as much as I loved my father, and it was ballet. But that, too, was taken away after I was admitted to the asylum. Ever since then, I haven’t touched my pointe shoes. I had even asked Matilda to hide them deep inside my closet, my heart breaks anytime I catch a glimpse of them.”

A lump formed in my throat just from speaking about it, I could feel tears in my eyes as I watched the tree branches move violently with the strong wind. The willow tree looked gorgeous in the wake of the storm, and I wished nothing but to step under it and close my eyes, let the wind destroy my bun and rip the fresh daisies out of my hair. I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the dark flashes of memories I had tried to forget so badly. The asylum was a cursed place, filled with evil people who only caused more harm. I hated it and everyone that was associated with it. I could feel the doctor’s eyes on me, and he gulped, inhaling sharply. I glanced at him, and he looked amazed for some reason.

“Can you tell me about the asylum, Miss Harold?” My muscles tensed despite the doctor’s soft tone, and my heart started racing painfully in my chest. I thought wringing my fingers tighter together would stop the tremors from worsening, but it didn’t. I felt lightheaded as my own shrill screams echoed in my ears, but I couldn’t speak. My bottom lip shook as I took a breath through my mouth, and shook my head frantically, “Alright, it’s alright, Miss Harold. We won’t speak of it, take deep breaths.”

The doctor leaned forward in his seat and I rigidly turned to face him, my eyes wide in fear as I waited for him to strike. Maybe his mask would finally slip, maybe the tools were hidden inside his satchel bag. The notebook, his scribbling, my stories…maybe they were all just distractions. And yet, the doctor’s eyes remained kind and ridden with worry as he seemed to breathe through his mouth as well, as if he was mirroring my actions. I closed my eyes as the first thunder shook the ground, and inhaled deeply, keeping the air in my lungs until I couldn’t no more. I released the shuddered breath and opened my eyes again, only to see the doctor gulp, loudly. His pupils were dilated and made his eyes seem completely black, his fair cheeks flushed deeply as his long fingers tightened around his pencil once again.

“Perhaps we should end the examination here, Doctor Jeong.” My voice was strained as I gulped around nothing, “The storm is here. You should head home before it worsens.”

As if nature had agreed with me, the air filled with electricity as lightning struck not far away, the thunder loud and following shortly after. Doctor Jeong’s jaw tightened, but he nodded, humming approvingly. He swiped his bottom lip with his thumb before he grabbed his satchel bag, adjusting his spectacles as they did slip off the slope of his nose. Thunder wracked the earth again as a colder breeze billowed past us, ruffling my dress and the hair that had fallen out of my bun. It also moved Doctor Jeong’s messy hair, jelled back and out of his eyes in an attempt to make him look classy. As the doctor stood, slipping the notebook inside his satchel bag too, I mirrored him, smoothing down my dress.

“I call what we do here sessions, Miss Harold, and not examination.” The smile was easy on his lips and I hummed, flinching when the wind slammed the grand door of the tea room against the wall. Perhaps it was time to close them, “I shall see you tomorrow?”

“Of course, Doctor Jeong, please take care on your way home.” My eyebrows furrowed in worry as Doctor Jeong nodded, opening his mouth to say something just as the door to the tea room was yanked open. The man in the doorway was unfamiliar, but he looked worried.

“Mr Jeong, we should go now if we don’t want to be stranded somewhere on the road during the storm.” He must be the doctor’s driver, then. My mother appeared behind the driver, looking as worried as if the doctor was her own child.

“We have guest rooms, Doctor, you could always stay.” My mother was a kind and loving woman, her intentions hardly questionable, “I would hate it if something were to happen to you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Harold, but I shall be on my way.” Doctor Jeong smiled widely, then faced me once again, and bowed his head much like yesterday. Perhaps it was their custom to take farewell like that, so, I bowed back to him. The doctor’s eyes widened for a second before his smile widened just slightly, and then he and his diver were gone, my mother’s expression was worried as she watched them leave from the front porch. Big droplets of water started falling from the dark clouds, and I quickly closed the grand doors as Matilda rushed inside to assist me. The rhythmic fall of the rain was a glaring reminder of my irregularly fast heartbeat.

The eyes were windows to one’s soul, or so Yunho had been taught. He had dealt with many cases during his practice period, and now as a certified psychiatrist, he had gained even more popularity in the West. He had no choice but to move at a young age, the world was an ever-changing place. He was young and curious, he wished to explore and find people that needed his expertise. But there was something so mesmerising about her eyes which left him unravelled and flustered like nothing else. Her words dripped with honey, and Yunho could swear he heard angels singing, accompanying her soft tone whenever she told stories. He was captivated. He ached to write down every single word she uttered, he felt desperate to pick apart her brain, to look inside it, to fix her. He was desperate to understand what had triggered her manic episode, he was desperate to tell the committee that she was innocent. But he was a doctor first and foremost, and his job forbade him from any personal attachment towards his patients. But whenever he looked into her icy blue eyes, the breeze brushing the fallen copper strands of her hair against her sun-kissed cheeks, he felt his very own soul stir and reach out in desperation to connect with hers, to possess it. She was a madwoman, and he was a man desperate to stay sane in her company.

            Another thing I completely wished to be free of was dinners, where I was forced to sit with my so-called happy family. The bags under Mr Brooks's eyes had been getting darker and darker lately, and the creases in his forehead were an obvious sign that something was worrying him. But it wasn’t my place to ask questions, so I continued to silently notice the small changes in his mood and behaviour. He had stopped pampering Karina, which was completely unheard of, and she was loud and clear with her complaints. She had wanted a silk nightgown just last week, but her father had denied her of it. He didn’t mention the cause, he only said she already has more than enough nightgowns. The clinking of silverware gave me something to focus on as my eyes were cast on the brussels sprouts on my plate, pushing around it as I didn’t enjoy their bitter taste. But Mrs Humphrey had cooked dinner with love, so I didn’t want to leave anything on my plate tonight. The silence around the table was broken as my mother grabbed her glass of wine, her kind eyes settling on me.

“Y/N, my dear, how are your examinations going?” I paused, feeling everyone’s eyes in the dining room on me. I gulped down the food I had in my mouth and tapped with a napkin at my lips, letting my hands fall in my lap as I hummed. Doctor Jeong’s words rang clearly in my mind, what we were doing was called sessions.

“They are called sessions, ‘ma, and they are going well,” I spoke gently, hoping she’d find my words reassuring. I knew she was constantly worrying about me, always fussing and around thinking I wouldn’t notice. I might be absent-minded a lot these days, but I’m mostly aware of my surroundings still. Mr Brooks nodded once, looking pleased as he wolfed down the steak Mrs Humphrey had made to be spicey, just like Mr Brooks liked it.

“That is lovely to hear,” My mother beamed at me, meanwhile Karina scoffed under her breath, “Do you find communication with the doctor difficult, perhaps? Or is everything clear between you two?”

Mr. Brooks nodded along, one eyebrow raised as he watched me curiously. I adjusted myself in my chair and plastered on a little smile, “Doctor Jeong is well-versed and rather attentive. He notes down everything I say in his notebook, and meanwhile, I have noticed he scribbles along in his mother tongue as well, I find no difficulties understanding him. He’s coherent and speaks English as if he was born around here.”

“That’s a very reassuring thing to hear, my dear.” Mr Brooks spoke up with a smile, the corners of his lips tugging up. Karina’s jawline was set tight as she let her fork clamper down loudly against her plate, her eyebrows raised mockingly.

“Why are we letting her spend time alone with that doctor, again? How is that helping her?” Her tone was high-pitched, filled with blatant jealousy that Mr Brooks and my mother remained oblivious to.

“Sweetheart, we’ve discussed this already,” Mr Brooks said with a tired sigh, giving his daughter a disapproving look, “Y/N needs a new medical approach, and Doctor Jeong is the best in this field. He came all the way here from South Korea when he was still just an apprentice. I’ve read up on him, he’s solved cases of mass hysteria and other mental issues no doctor could even come close to. Let’s not have this conversation again, Karina.”

Mr Brooks was mostly calling me insane to my face, but his words held no malice and I knew his intentions were pure. I couldn’t resent him for wanting to find a cure for me, something that could finally fix me. He had no obligation to look out for me like this, I wasn’t his daughter by blood, yet he had only treated me with kindness and understanding my whole life. He was a good man, perhaps a bit too absent from the household, but I could see in his eyes that he loved my mother dearly, and that was more than enough for me to accept him into our home. He couldn’t replace my father, but he filled the void that sometimes got too much.

“I think she just needs attention,” Karina hissed under her breath as she slammed her fist on the table, making the maids behind her jump, “What are you waiting for, stupid cunts?! My glass is empty!”

“Karina,” My mother muttered, her eyebrows pulled together as she gave her a displeased look while the poor maid scurried to fill Karina’s glass with wine, “A lady shouldn’t use such vulgar language, nonetheless in front of her elders.”

“Yeah, whatever Mrs Harold.” She scoffed as she glared at the maid, taking big gulps of her wine. I watched with distaste, catching Leia’s gaze for a split second. Her eyes were tear-filled and I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from speaking up, it would only start an argument I didn’t have the mental capacity for right now. But Karina wasn’t done as her sharp gaze fell on me, her tone harsh when she spoke again, “I know you enjoy spending time with the doctor alone, it makes you fantasize, doesn’t it? You’re just playing with him like with everyone else around you, sister, aren’t you? How long do you reckon until you get him riled up enough to get underneath your skirts—”

“Karina!” Mr Brooks's voice was loud and stern, his eyes set on his daughter with disgust in them, “How dare you say such things to your sister? In front of me and her mother, nonetheless! You should be ashamed, is this who I raised you to be?!”

Karina chuckled, humourless, “Right, father, you didn’t raise me at all, perhaps that is why I am like this. Maybe you shouldn’t have admitted mother into an asylum because she didn’t know how to silence a crying baby, hm?”

The silence that settled over the table made my skin crawl. If anyone would’ve dropped a pin, everyone could’ve heard it in the dining room. I released a shaky breath, the tremors worsening as Mr Brooks seemed to be struggling with containing his rage in front of my mother. Her mouth was open and a hand pressed against it, eyes shaking with pain and incredulity as she looked between Karina and her second husband. I took a deep breath and pushed my chair back, grabbing my plate to try and stabilise myself, to stay in the present. Eyes fell on me, and before Leia could come to approach me, I shook my head with a small smile, “I’ll let Mrs Humphrey know she outdid herself once again, then I will be retreating for bed. Matilda will accompany me, sleep well tonight, mother.”

As I left the dining room, I heard Mr Brooks weakly whisper a good night, then Karina’s sobs as she raced up the stairs, slamming the door to her room loudly. The chatter and good mood died down the second the kitchen door swung open, Leia following inside after me. Mrs Humphrey looked concerned when she noticed me holding my plate and went to stand up and take it from me, but I quickly shook my head.

“No, stay seated, Mrs Humphrey, dinner is absolutely delicious.” I said with a smile, and the other servants and maids seemed to relax as well, “Would you mind…if I finished my dinner here, with you?”

“Oh, come here, my dear.” Mrs Humphrey’s frown was deep as she beckoned me over, making space for me between herself and our butler, Jesper. He was still a young boy, his eyes filled with a youthful spark, full of life and happiness. He offered me a small smile and placed mushrooms filled with cheese on my plate, knowing I loved them. I chuckled and thanked him, then looked over the table and realised I felt most comfortable when around these people. They were simple, they were happy, and they made the most of their days. They were free, away from society’s judgemental eyes, and they lacked the prejudice the other aristocrats hadn’t even tried to hide around me. I felt like I belonged at this table, and as the happy chatter picked up again and Jesper made small talk with me, with Carla eagerly interjecting sometimes, I could feel my tense muscles relax and the void in my chest disappear. For a little while only, while I was still at this table, enjoying my dinner with the people who looked at me as if I was just a human too.

            The doctor was quickly growing on me. I couldn’t trust him, not yet, it would be too soon. It’s been only a week since he started visiting me for our sessions, but I started believing that he wasn’t playing a character when around me. He was genuine, his eyes sparkled curiously with each question he asked, his frown was always worried and it downturned his pretty pouty lips, and when he smiled, something warm seemed to flood my chest. I could only compare it to the sun, for I have never felt such warmth when gazing upon a man before. Not even when suitors were lining up in front of our house, asking for a chance at marrying me. The doctor was considerate and kind, he hung on to my every word. It was his profession, I knew he was only doing his job, but I couldn’t help but imagine he was a man interested in me, his notebooks filled with poems and sketches of me. It was a far-fetched fantasy, but it managed to warm my cheeks anytime I dwelled on it.

I was out in the back garden as I found myself thinking about the doctor again, excited to see him today as well. We had left off at a rather culminating point of my story yesterday, I wondered if he was as eager as I was to hear the rest of it. Matilda wasn’t feeling well today, and as my mother was in town, Carla was the one supervising me. I didn’t mind the change, she was a chatty girl and easily kept me from detaching from reality. Here, in the garden, as I thumbed at the leaves of the flowers, Carla was still speaking about an encounter with a fairy. A supposed fairy as she believed in God and deemed the little creatures spawns of evil.

“Tell me, young miss, do you believe it was Satan sending those fairies my way?” Carla’s voice was full of wonder, “Have I done something bad to attract his attention to me?”

“I don’t believe so, Carla.” I answered her quietly, my eyes following a bee as it flew from flower to flower, “You go to church every Sunday.”

“Perhaps I should go from now on every Wednesday and Sunday, too.” Carla huffed, hands on her hips as she tried avoiding the bee that was flying towards her. I chuckled, straightening up. The scent of the hydrangeas was familiar as I closed my eyes, inhaling it deeply into my lungs so that they would stay there for a long time.

“I don’t believe fairies are inherently evil, Carla.” I mused as the breeze brushed upon my cheeks, already flushed from the great heat. My dress was thin and simple, I couldn’t wear pompous dresses during summertime, they were too hot. I would often feel lightheaded from the strong sun, the thick dresses would only make me faint. The white fabric was soft against my skin, and the white ribbons brushed against my nape as my hair was pulled into two small buns at the base of my neck. I could’ve performed on stage looking like this, but even so much as looking at my pointe shoes would’ve hurt my soul. I didn’t let the memories resurface despite the sudden melancholia that wished to break through my emotions, “Fairies are small creatures that protect nature, maybe you had done something they didn’t approve of. Did you disrespect their land, perhaps? Or did you step on a flower they had blessed before? Fairies are territorial beings, and they are also quite vengeful. But if you ask Father Leon to bless you after service, I’m sure you’ll be just fine, Carla.”

The scoff that followed my words wasn’t coming from Carla. I didn’t open my eyes as I became aware of heavier footsteps approaching, I had completely missed the engine of his motorcar. I felt Karina stop behind me, but I turned my head towards the sun, basking in it. I couldn’t touch the celestial without burning to a crisp, but perhaps the one it had sent to me in human form was really here to save me. A clear of throat made me blink my eyes open, and I turned to look over my shoulder.

“If you have nothing else but fairies to talk about, then I don’t see why Doctor Jeong should entertain your madness any longer.” Karina’s eyes narrowed at me, “You belong in an asylum, sister.”

I smiled, a little amused, as an ugly grimace appeared on Carla’s face upon Karina’s comment. The maid made to open her mouth, which would’ve landed her in trouble, but the doctor beat her to it, “Thank you for walking me here, Miss Brooks. But I’d like to be left alone with Miss Harold, now.”

“Right,” Karina muttered, shooting me a jealous stare, “She gets to have you all to herself, as always.”

Then, she turned around and raised her skirt above her ankles to storm off. Carla nodded her head and followed after Karina, not in a hurry so that the woman wouldn’t pick a fight with Carla as well. The doctor sighed, pushing his small glasses up the bridge of his nose, looking a little bit bewildered. Then, he looked at me and the crease from his forehead disappeared. I was already smiling at him, my hands behind my back to hide the bad tremors. I had felt faint all day, but the doctor was here finally and I could finally take my first breath of fresh air of the day. I couldn’t help but smile widely at him, and watch as the flush from his ears quickly travelled down to his chest. Even more buttons of his loose white shirt were undone, the silver cross sitting against his chest now glinting under the sunlight. His trousers were high-waisted and the shirt was tucked neatly into it, a leather belt pulled around his waist. And there, in his right hand, was something white. I tilted my head in wonder as I looked at it, curious about what it was. The doctor liked bringing small gifts, mostly silly, but memorable.

“Hello, Doctor Jeong,” I spoke up, and the doctor released a loud breath.

“Hello, Miss Harold.” His voice shook slightly, then his fingers tightened around the strap of his satchel bag, “Here, I have something for you.”

Then he extended his right hand out towards me, and my eyes widened in surprise. I could tell the ballerina was made out of a napkin, I hadn’t seen anything like it before. My hands shook despite trying to ease the tremors, and my fingers hesitantly curled around the present as our skin brushed together. The doctor’s cheeks flushed rapidly, and I found myself unable to look into his warm eyes. I wondered if it was the heat that made our hands so clammy. I looked at the ballerina in my hands, melancholy overtaking me once again. I longed to dance around in the garden, Mrs Humphrey and my mother as my audience now that my father was gone, but it only brought back bad memories. I was too faint to twirl around now, my legs weren’t as strong as they once used to be. I would fall even before doing my first pirouette, it was depressing.

“How are you feeling today, Miss Harold?”

“Faint, but it’s from the heat, Doctor Jeong.”

We stood unmoving, our eyes boring into each other’s. I didn’t want to move to the tea room just yet, perhaps I longed to sit under the willow tree. The doctor made no moves, and so I said nothing about heading for the house. We were in eyesight if anyone were to look through the kitchen window, and we weren’t doing anything wrong.

“Thank you for the gift, Doctor Jeong, did you make it yourself?” I asked with round eyes, unable to keep the smile off my lips. The doctor flushed darker and averted his eyes, thumbing at his wet bottom lip.

“Yes, I thought it would cheer you up. I hope I wasn’t wrong.” His tone was tender and just a little hesitant, the doctor was almost cute like this.

“It did cheer me up, sir, I was thinking about ballet just now.” I paused, and waited for the doctor to look up into my eyes, “It seems you can already read my mind, I wonder how you do that.”

The doctor smiled, his forehead exposed as his dark strands were brushed away from his eyes, “We are making progress, then, reading your mind isn’t as easy as one might think.”

“And why is that?” I asked curiously, fiddling with the napkin in my hands.

“Because it’s very complex, you like to speak in riddles, and you evade most of my questions.” Then the doctor chuckled and I bit my bottom lip, averting my eyes in embarrassment, “You’re cunning, but I’m good at catching all the little hidden messages.”

I grinned at the doctor’s words, my suspicions confirmed. I knew I could play around with him, he seemed like a very smart man. Hearing he could read between the lines was more than satisfying. My heart skipped a beat, but it didn’t start racing like before.

“Do you like hydrangeas, Doctor?”

“Their scent is too intense for my liking, but they are pretty flowers, Miss Harold.”

“They symbolise purity and gratitude, even vanity in some cases.”

“What do they mean in your case, then?”

“Gratitude, Doctor Jeong, towards you.” Our eyes met again as I looked away from the white flowers, a sudden calmness settling upon my racing thoughts, “I hope the end of my story will be satisfying to you.”

The doctor gulped, loudly, then motioned towards the house, “Would you like to continue inside? Did you remember something of importance, perhaps?”

“Can we sit under the willow tree?” I raised an eyebrow, “Mrs Humphrey can see us from the kitchen if that’s of worry to you.”

“Sure, if you’ll feel comfortable.” The doctor nodded, fishing for his notebook and pencil as I hummed, leading us down the pebbled path, the willow tree was just by the end of it. The territory the house resided on came with a small pond, I liked watching the still water while sitting by the trunk of the willow tree. The doctor followed after me quietly, and he watched me settle down into the green grass, dress splaying out around me. It had ridden slightly up, exposing my shins as I pulled them underneath myself. The doctor seemed to be frozen, eyes glued to where my legs had been just seconds ago. Then, he gulped loudly and settled down next to me. He sat a little closer compared to the usual distance between our chairs, but his presence was soothing. I smiled as I faced him, eyes falling on his long fingers as he got comfortable, opening his notebook to where we had left off yesterday.

“I don’t remember anything new, doctor, but we haven’t reached that part of the story yet.” I smiled, then turned my head to gaze out at the pond, “Would you like to hear what happens next?”

The doctor exhaled, “You told me this noble boy barged inside your house in the middle of the night? He must’ve been madly in love with you to do such a thing.”

I chuckled, eyes focusing on the dragonflies above the pond, “I suppose he was at one point, yes. But men are easily converted, I find love like my mother and father had once shared hard to find, doctor. Our love didn’t last long, but I’m getting ahead of myself. It was a cold spring evening and he had been visiting, drinking with Mr Brooks to ask for permission to marry me. My mother was present too, of course, but she couldn’t say much against Mr Brook’s words. In the end, the proposal was accepted and the man left, only to come barging inside hours later.”

“Why did he do that?”

“Because he was drunk, and because he had something to say.”

“Did you hear him out?”

I chuckled, facing the doctor. His eyes were wide as he was watching me, pencil pressing against the white paper, “Yes, I did hear him out, but his words made no sense. He said something about a lavished lifestyle and a farmhouse, and something about being happy together even in a later age, it was endearing but very inadequate.”

“So, what did you do, then?” The doctor wasn’t even writing down what I was saying, it made me chuckle. The corner of his lips lifted subconsciously, he looked amused too.

“Nothing, I just kicked him out and told him to come back when he’s sober. His drunken words meant nothing to me. I did not want to marry a man who made foolish confessions in an inebriated state of mind, besides, he was a gentleman. He should have known better than to barge inside a lady’s home well past midnight, no, Doctor Jeong?” I quirked an eyebrow, my question seemed to snap the doctor out of his staring. He cleared his throat and looked down at his notebook, pausing for a few seconds before he jotted something down. I couldn’t read it, it was in a foreign language.

“N-no—I mean, yes, Miss Harold. That was rather inappropriate of him, I must imagine the discomfort he had created for you.” He had barely finished his sentence when a giggle bubbled past my lips.

“On the contrary, Doctor Jeong.” I grinned, ducking my head down to hide my amusement as confusion crossed the doctor’s features, “It was the most fun I’ve had in a while. Mrs Humphrey, my mother, and I had stayed up for hours giggling about it afterwards. We even made jokes about it and Mrs Humphrey let us drink her very secret brew that tastes like flowers but could knock out even a sailor with just two jugs. I have no idea what it is, but it’s very strong.”

The doctor’s eyes were filled with awe as I laughed, memories of easier times never failing to bring me in a good mood. It would’ve been easier like this, if things stayed put and if Karina wouldn’t have meddled with everything. I have faced hardships before, but having the person I considered my sister to betray me had stung like none other. In the end, neither one of us got what we wanted, just a lot of animosity and a tension-filled relationship. Sometimes I wanted to ask Karina if all of it was worth it, but I knew not to entertain an already greedy person.

“And how does this memory make you feel now?” Doctor Jeong’s tone was airy, and he wasn’t looking at me as he was scribbling in his notebook. I pondered for a second before I placed my hands on the grass, gripping it tightly between my fingers. Sometimes the tremors stopped when I grabbed something too hard.

“Bittersweet, but mostly happy. I’m grateful I was able to experience all of that at least once in my lifetime, others aren’t as lucky as I am. I am well aware of that.” The doctor nodded along as I spoke, but then he paused writing and looked at me with a frown.

“And when you think of that man? How does he make you feel, Miss Harold?” I gulped, not having expected that question. But it was easy to answer, I’ve pondered many times over this specific question, there wasn’t anything the doctor could surprise me with anymore. I smiled softly but knew the doctor could feel the shift in my mood.

“Mostly angry that I wasted years on that man when I could’ve found someone more decent, more loving.” Then I shrugged and watched as the doctor licked his lips, adjusting his spectacles on his nose, “Do you believe that God has everything planned for us, Doctor?”

“Mostly, yes, but we have enough free will to change the direction of our lives.” The doctor answered, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. I hummed, plucking the grass from the ground forcefully. My knuckles ached from how hard I had gripped onto it.

“You can’t run from what is meant for you, Doctor Jeong, we would’ve never met if I wouldn’t have gone mad.” But Doctor Jeong didn’t seem to be too convinced by my words. He chewed on his bottom lip, sweat rolling down between his pecks. I gulped, then averted my eyes from his exposed fair skin, and instead focused on his beautiful round brown eyes, “Are you glad we got to meet?”

The man’s eyes widened at my forward question, but I meant no harm nor did I have questionable reasons to ask such a thing. The doctor cleared his throat, playing with the pencil in his hands as he thought his answer over, “I’ll be glad once you are back to being yourself, until then, I cannot allow myself to feel any sort of satisfaction.”

“Don’t you think my madness is part of me, now?” I muttered, gazing off towards the house. The curtain in the kitchen moved, but I knew it wasn’t Mrs Humphrey. She was out in town with my mother at this hour. Doctor Jeong inhaled sharply, then closed his notebook loudly. The paper made a noisy sound, making me look over to him. The man looked aggravated as if my question had bothered him immensely, but I was merely curious about how he viewed me.

“Perhaps we should continue tomorrow, Miss Harold, and we must proceed with the story. The committee is pressing me with questions, they are very curious to hear the full story.” The doctor was avoiding my question, that was unusual. He stood, brushed the dirt off his trousers, then hastily grabbed his satchel bag and clumsily placed the notebook and his pencil inside.

“Thank you for indulging with me, Doctor Jeong.” I looked up at him, and had to shield my eyes from the sun, “I love sitting under the willow tree.”

“I will keep that in mind, Miss Harold, have a nice afternoon.” The doctor then bowed his head and I mirrored his actions, then he was rushing back towards the house, looking a little rigid. Karina stood in the doorway to the tea room, a tray filled with cookies and lemonade in her hands, but Doctor Jeong merely nodded at her and left the house in haste. Karina’s glare could be felt even from the distance, and I gently stood to head back inside, keeping the arrangement in mind. I wasn’t supposed to be unsupervised, I knew Carla would be in the laundry room if she had nothing else to do.

Yunho couldn’t sleep. He kept reading over and over his notes, all the small hidden messages making his head ache. His stomach growled in hunger, but he was physically unable to stand from his study and ask the housekeeper to prepare dinner for him. The girl was frail, she was soft-spoken but witty. She liked to keep him on his toes, and she was great at making him lose track of what was most important. He felt like he was making no progress, yet the committee kept pressing him for an answer. Father Louis was understanding enough not to ambush him with questions daily, but the rest of the officials weren’t. They wanted a diagnosis of Miss Harold already, they didn’t want to understand that Yunho couldn’t give his verdict in anything but a week. Building trust took time, getting to hear the unfiltered truth from someone who loved to play with her words took patience. Yunho was a patient person, but he wondered how long he had until he’d break. Whenever he closed his eyes, he felt as if she was watching him, standing over him, smiling at him. Her skin was sun-kissed and sometimes her cheeks were burnt from staying out in the sun for too long, but Yunho knew her skin would be soft. When he had twisted and turned his napkin into shapes, absentmindedly, he realised he had made a ballerina out of it. Thus, he had made his first mistake as a professional. He had allowed himself to sympathise with Miss Harold. He had allowed himself to notice her smile was brighter than the sun itself, and that she smelled an awful lot like those hydrangeas that Yunho was allergic to. And he had allowed himself to notice the tremors of her hands, making him yearn to hold her frail hands between his with the hopes of soothing her nerves. Yunho wondered if she yearned for him like she had yearned for her once lover.

            The clouds were almost black as they expanded over the horizon. The wind was too cold for us to keep the grand doors of the tea room open, so they remained closed as I sat on the soft sofa, gazing out through the glass. Matilda had left the curtains undrawn for me, and a few scented candles were lit to ease my muscles' tension. I couldn’t focus lately, these past three days my mood had quickly reclined. I know the doctor had noticed it too, but he didn’t prod more than it would be considered rude. I was reluctant to tell him the cause of my moroseness, he wasn’t here to listen to me weep about how unfairly Karina treated me. She had been ruthless these past three days. I knew she had a vendetta against me, but ever since the doctor started coming here, she had been progressively getting worse and worse. I could handle it until I couldn’t. If I ignored her and got lost in a deep spot in the back of my mind filled with happy memories, I would end up with a backhanded slap to my face. If I talked back and stood my ground, I would only fuel her fire, giving her power over me. Karina was clever, she knew when to strike. If my mother was around us, she was an angel. If the servants were watching, she’d be sharp and arrogant towards me. If Mr. Brooks was present, she didn’t bother hiding her disdain, but she wasn’t as straightforward as around the servants.

She didn’t hold back one bit if it was just the two of us. My eyes were lost on the gloomy visage, eyes tracking the swaying vines of the willow tree. It was even more beautiful in the eyes of the storm, I could’ve stared at it for hours on end. My mind was silent like this, absent of all the turbulent thoughts that shook me to my core and kept me up at night, when Matilda, poor girl, struggled to stay up and look over me. Just last night, she had fallen asleep, and I was grateful because I had a moment to myself where I could secretly slip away and walk through the gardens in hopes of clearing my mind. It wasn’t a smart decision, however, because I couldn’t remember anything after I stepped through the threshold of the house. I just know sometime later I was gasping for air as my arms were restricted and my throat was scratchy, Mr Brooks desperately trying to hold down my trashing body. My white nightgown was dirty with mud and the ends of it were dripping wet with pond water. It wasn’t foreign that I would lose consciousness if something lay heavily on my chest and gnawed at my thoughts, but it had been long since I had lost track of myself so deeply. Not since the incident, at least.

And Karina was enjoying it, her lips pulled into a nasty smirk as my mother cried by my side, asking Matilda and Leia to bring cold towels and help me clean up. Mr Brooks had looked tired as he gently helped me back to my room and tucked me into bed, his eyes pained and suffering as if I was blood-related to him. His expression made me feel guilty for worrying not just my mother, but also him. I felt terrible, yet I couldn’t control my mind or my body when these episodes happened. Even now, as I sat on the sofa waiting for the doctor to arrive, I felt lightheaded and on the brink of losing consciousness. My body felt light and heavy simultaneously, and I could feel my pulse in my neck. My lips felt chapped no matter how much tea I drank, and my throat was tight. I wanted to see the doctor, I needed to tell him why I had done what I had done. I had always been too afraid to confess the truth, not wanting to hurt my mother and break up the second family she cherished. But I also couldn’t continue living like this, not when Karina prayed for my downfall. Her harsh words from yesterday were still fresh in my mind, and I had to blink the tears away for a second.

“I know you’re just a whore, desperate to find another man to toy with.” She had spat with flushed cheeks, a cup filled halfway with wine in her hand, “Do you seriously think that doctor wants to touch you? You’re a deranged woman now, Y/N, nobody will want you. Not even Doctor Jeong Yunho, you whore. I won’t let you have him too, you always get what you want—but not this time, Y/N, mark my words.”

And just when I had thought she was done, she had marched up to me and grabbed me by the throat harshly, making me gasp, “If he doesn’t send you to an asylum, I will kill you myself, Y/N. You’re an abomination and a disgrace, even your own mother hates you, whore.”

The knock at the door startled me, I had been lost deep in thought. I turned my head and noticed Matilda giving me a small smile, “Young miss, the doctor is here to see you. Would you like me to prepare anything for you two?”

My heart skipped a beat, but I couldn’t tell why. Perhaps because I knew he’d take my mind off things, even if I was forced to relive the past I tried to bury deep down, sequences I couldn’t even remember anymore. Or, maybe, it was because I desperately wished to gaze upon his soft face, lose myself in his warm and round eyes peeking at me over his small spectacles. I couldn’t decide which was the reason, but I needed his presence to calm my turbulent mind and body finally.

“Thank you. I will welcome him inside, and you can take a break.” I stood up, hands balling into fists as nausea washed over me, “We won’t need anything, but I hope you get some sleep, Matilda. You’ve been watching over me for three days.”

“That is my duty, young miss.” Then she bowed her head before I could tell her she needed to take care of herself, and she took her leave. I smoothed down my long-sleeved dark blue dress now that the weather wasn’t as warm as days ago. I hadn’t pulled my hair into a bun today, even if it was not ladylike, I wished to feel my copper strands brushing against my cheeks when I moved my head. It shielded my face like a curtain if I didn’t want to be seen, I hoped Doctor Jeong wouldn’t mind.

Sucking in a deep breath and bracing myself, I left the tea room in search of the doctor, who should have been in the foyer, getting rid of his coat and dress shoes, but instead, he wasn’t there. I paused for a second to listen for his voice, and a smile pulled at my lips when I realised he was in the living room. Perhaps we could hold our session inside there today, I could play the piano and show him my favourite piece, if that, of course, was deemed fine by the doctor. As my fingers brushed against the wooden door, about to push it further open, I realised the doctor wasn’t alone. Karina’s sweet giggles flooded the room before she continued speaking.

“Surely, Doctor. I am pleased to hear you do not burn yourself out by coming here daily. I can only imagine how tiring it must be to listen to my sister, she’s rarely coherent. You must have noticed, given that you are a doctor, that she often has no idea where she is or who she is talking to. She tends to get lost in her own mind and blabber on about nonsense.” Karina then paused as my heart raced, my eyebrows furrowed in distaste, “She looks completely normal upon first glance, but it quickly becomes obvious she’s—well, she’s insane, you know?”

“I’m sorry, Miss Brooks, I cannot be discussing this with you.” Doctor Jeong’s voice was neutral, and cold, unlike the tone he used with me, “But as a licensed doctor, given that I am one, I can tell when her surroundings influence her mood, or why she is in a bad headspace.”

Karina scoffed, sounding a little offended, “Are you insinuating anything right now, Doctor Jeong? I don’t need a license to be able to tell that my sister is insane. How long until you realise she’s just trying to trap you here, twirl you up into her web of lies and fantasies? If you think you can help a mad person, Doctor, I fear you should seek help too. She’s beyond help, she’s desperate and pathetic, and as I have stated, she’s mad—”

“I am not mad!” Before I could stop myself, I let my anger take over me as I barged through the ajar room, “I am not insane, Karina, you’re always putting words in my mouth! Who has ruined everything I have ever had, huh?! You, you did, so don’t call me your sister. I am not your sister, and I will never be, you filthy skank!”

Karina gasped loudly, her hand flying up to her mouth. The doctor’s eyes had widened too, clearly taken aback by my outburst. I had been soft-spoken and kind in front of him, careful to not show anything he could incriminate me with in front of the committee. Karina had gotten what she wanted all this time, I suppose. Now, the doctor would make an early report that wasn’t favourable for me without even hearing the truth, or as much as I could remember of it. I gulped, feeling ashamed as tears filled my eyes, but I tried to keep myself from crying. Karina wailing like a banshee next to Doctor Jeong was more than humiliating enough to force me to keep myself in place.

“Enough,” The doctor snapped, his friendly and soft features morphing into something of anger and vexation. For a second, I thought it was directed towards me, but then he turned his head and his warm chocolate brown eyes fell on Karina, now sharp, “This is the last time I let you off the hook, Miss Brooks. If you don’t stop treating your sister so poorly, I will have to write you up on the board as the main suspect that causes Miss Harold’s turbulent manic episodes to occur, is that what you want? Do you wish to also be psychologically evaluated? I can do that, I can get one of my colleagues to come out here and question you, but you might be surprised to find yourself deemed insane too.”

Doctor Jeong’s words visibly shook Karina as she crumbled into an armchair, fingers sinking into her hair as she shook her head at the doctor, crocodile tears streaming down her cheeks pathetically. My heart was racing in my chest, the doctor was all I could see. His flushed cheeks from anger, his whitening knuckles around the strap of his satchel bag, his rapidly rising and falling chest—Jeong Yunho had stood up for me, taken my side. He was my doctor, he was supposed to look out for me, but he wasn’t obligated to protect me from claims that might be true. I didn’t feel insane, I never had, but Karina might still be right. Maybe I was a danger to society and Doctor Jeong hadn’t discovered why yet. It was only a matter of time until I exploded in his face, showing him my true colours. I had no idea what I was fully capable of, that part of my memory was still absent, but I could never forget the feeling of pure satisfaction and elation as I watched Karina lay on her back, gasping for air as blood trailed from her nose down to her mouth, chin, and then neck.

Doctor Jeong sighed loudly, his eyebrows furrowed as he licked his lips, shaking his head in almost disappointment at Karina. Then, he faced me and his features instantly softened. My heart raced again, and I hid my hands behind my back. Then, without many words, he came closer to me and nodded with his chin towards the stairs, “Would you mind if we skipped the tea room today, I’d like a more private setting.”

I gulped, feeling lightheaded once again, “No, the storm ruins the pretty visage either way.”

The doctor hummed as I turned around and took off towards the stairs, his strong footsteps loud behind me. My hands trembled as we ascended the creaky old stairs, my fingertips tracing the old railing. Doctor Jeong’s fingers were close to mine, tracing the same pattern as mine, so close yet so far away at the same time. I exhaled softly and tried to keep a clear head, but my nausea was getting worse as I led the way to my bedroom. My mother would’ve been outraged by the idea of leading a man inside my room, but this was the doctor, he was here to help. I couldn’t think of a more private room than my own bedroom, the heavy door closed and locked once we were inside. The doctor seemed to tense when he heard the lock, his back to me. I felt exposed, a little naked, now that the man was in my intimate space. There wasn’t much to my room except for a desk filled with books and poorly done sketches, and a vase filled with daisies and tulips. The doctor headed for my desk, meanwhile, I headed for my bed. The sheets were satin and silky as I lowered myself onto the edge of my bed, letting my hands sink into the fabric. With a questioning glance, the doctor turned my chair around to face me and sunk into it with a heavy sigh.

“I apologise.” My eyebrows rose in surprise as I tilted my head in question, “For letting your sister speak like that of you, I should have never let her go that far. I shouldn’t have even let her corner me like that and-and—it doesn’t matter. I understand if you need space after this, I might be able to convince the committee to give me a few more weeks.”

“She’s not my sister.” I whispered as I wrung my trembling fingers together, looking down in my lap, “Karina is not my blood sister, Doctor Jeong. I might have viewed her once as a sister, but not anymore.”

The doctor fumbled around for his notebook and pencil, which had gotten smaller from having sharpened it so often. The doctor’s eyebrows were furrowed as he pushed the spectacles up on the bridge of his perfect nose.

“Does this have to do anything with what happened on that day?” The doctor’s voice was gentle, understanding even. I bit my lower lip and nodded slowly, feeling my head swarm around uncontrollably. Would he know what to do with me if I were to pass out? He is a doctor, after all, but Matilda is the one who knows me best, perhaps I shouldn’t have locked the door.

“She-she really—hurt me that day, and I—” My throat felt dry as my lungs started heaving for air, “I don’t know—maybe I did want her to di-die—I can’t do this right now, Doctor Jeong, I’m sorry.”

Doctor Jeong’s bottom lip was between his teeth as he suddenly let his notebook rest on the desk behind him. He leaned forward, lowering his head as he tried to make eye contact with me. I gulped and kept my gaze focused on my tremor-ridden hands, “Listen to me, Miss Harold, we don’t have to talk about it today. I’m just here to chat, I can tell you are not feeling well. Your mother informed me through a letter that you had hurt yourself last night, may I know what happened? Can you tell me? I won’t even take notes, just this one time.”

I gulped, slowly raising my eyes to look up at the doctor. He wore a tight beige shirt today with a dark blue vest over it, his pants snugly fitting his long legs. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his fair and smooth skin, veins bulging through. The wristwatch on his left hand looked fancy, the leather a very dark blue to match his vest. Doctor Jeong’s dark hair was swept back once again, but it looked fluffier today. I itched to reach out and run my fingers through his hair, wanting to feel its softness for myself. I tensed my muscles before I could do anything stupid like that. The doctor’s cheeks were slightly flushed, and his tooth was leaving a small white dent in his bottom lip. Because he was leaning forward, there was less distance between us, but still respectable. Like between doctor and patient.

“I—” I chewed on my bottom lip before taking a deep breath, “I haven’t been feeling well lately, Doctor, so I couldn’t sleep last night. I went for a walk and…I don’t remember what I did or what happened. Sometimes I lose consciousness while I’m awake, it’s frightening. I woke up with a muddied nightgown and a cut on my arm, Matilda had patched me up though.”

“How often does this happen?”

“Not that often.”

“Do you have an idea what may cause it?

“Well, yes. I think it’s Karina, she’s been antagonising me for the past three days and I’m so tired of it all. I just disassociate when I see her approaching me now, I’m sorry.”

The doctor sighed, rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb. His spectacles had slipped lower once again, “Do not apologise, you haven’t done anything wrong. I’m just glad you’re alright, Miss Harold.”

“The thought of you visiting daily keeps me afloat, Doctor Jeong, I have something to look forward to now.” I smiled, widely, and the doctor’s eyes widened before he blinked rapidly, looking stunned. Afraid the moment of lightness would pass by before I could grasp it, I continued, “Would you mind telling me your story today? What it’s like where you are from? How you were as a child? Is that…is that unprofessional? Are we not allowed to speak about you, Doctor?”

Doctor Jeong’s gulp was loud, then he took a deep breath and slowly leaned back in his chair, his legs spreading wide. He looked conflicted for just one second, but upon a glance at my face, he gave in. I couldn’t help but beam at the doctor as he chuckled, taking his spectacles off to place them on the desk behind himself.

“Where should I even start?” He hummed, looking towards the window, lost in thought. He was gorgeous, and he was kind. I hadn’t met a man like him before, I wished to trace my fingers along his jawline, but Karina was right. I couldn’t be a whore, not with this man, “As a child I was energetic and always blabbering on about whatever was inside my mind. I liked to ask a lot of questions, but I was reprimanded often for being too curious. Life is…different in South Korea at this time, very much different compared to how things run here. I am lucky I managed to sail so far away, my family has made great sacrifices for me to end up here. I’m not even able to send them often letters, it’s too risky.”

“Why?”

“Because they are in hiding, our belief in God is frowned upon, Catholics aren’t safe there now.” To prove a point, Doctor Jeong grabbed the silver cross underneath his shirt and brought it forward, clutching it tightly in his hands, “I can bravely say it here despite the other religions that exist, nobody has tried to murder me for it, so far. Besides, I cannot tell whether they still live where we did before I managed to sneak onto a French ship and escape. The elite class isn’t like the one here, it’s falling apart and I cannot be sure that my family are still part of it today.”

My eyebrows furrowed as an ashen look crossed the doctor’s face, “Do you miss your home?”

“Yes and no,” The doctor answered truthfully, “I was young when I sailed here, I had nothing and no one until my foster father found me. He was a Dutchman, very kind but unforgiving. I got lucky because he was a doctor and I came here to study advanced medicine with the hopes of once returning home and spreading the word, but I cannot go back, not yet. They’d shun me away, shame me and possibly kill me. South Korea isn’t welcoming of strangers yet, and in their eyes, I’d be one too for leaving our homeland only to return with new doctrines. Even if it means saving hundreds of lives. Not that I work with the physical body, but everyone needs someone who can soothe their soul once in a while.”

“You’re beyond courageous, Doctor Jeong, I admire you.” I sounded breathless as I closely listened to the doctor, making sure no word he uttered slipped by my ears. I wanted to know more about him, who he was and why he chose to be here. I couldn’t imagine being on my own, out on the streets, away from my mother, “I promise not to waste your time here, I’m almost at the end of my story.”

“I know, Miss Harold,” Doctor Jeong smiled softly, “Rather an acquittance than your doctor, I’d like to tell you that I look forward to our sessions. You are easy to connect with, and you don’t make it hard for me to glimpse inside your mind. I cannot say I understand each choice you’ve made, but that’s the beauty of having free will and individual thoughts, it sets us apart and makes us unique.”

I couldn’t help but blush as I averted my gaze from his intense one, feeling shy all of a sudden. The doctor wasn’t calling me specifically unique, but the implication was there, and I couldn’t help myself but imagine, “What about your home? What was that like, Doctor Jeong? And your family?”

For a second, he was silent. It made me think I had offended him in some way, but then his eyebrows slightly furrowed and he looked serious, “Since I am not talking to you as your doctor, you should just call me Yunho, if I may…Y/N?”

Hearing my name fall from his lips had my heart racing and my breath shuddering. I gulped, feeling speechless for a second as my eyes bore into Doctor Jeong’s, wondering if the man knew what it meant to drop such drastic formalities. But I obliged because I wanted his name to roll off my own lips like mine had done on his, desperate to fortify this frail bond between the two of us, doctor and patient, “Right, of course…Yunho.”

Doctor Jeong’s eyes fluttered shut for a second, his gulp was loud. I watched redness coat his ears down to his neck, his fingers digging into the wooden armrests. He was still wearing the silver band around his middle finger, I wondered whose it was. Was it from someone back home? Or was it from his foster father?

“Right, Y/N, well my home certainly was smaller than your house, and also built with different architecture in mind. And people don’t wear these fancy suits at home, we have our own traditional clothes that we proudly wear. I still have the one I arrived in tucked away as a means to never forget where I come from.” Doctor Jeong—Yunho—smiled softly, eyes glazed over with memories as he spoke quietly, almost as if to himself, “I have a younger brother, he’s the loveliest. I didn’t want to leave him home, not even my father and mother, but we would’ve been discovered if we were to run away together. My mother sent me off sobbing, clutching me to her chest and wondering if we’d see each other ever again. My father was a stoic man, but he had cried too. He had enough faith in me and God to know I’d make it out alive and become what they sent me away for. I left a dear friend behind too, but he promised to follow me one day. I do not know if we’ll see each other, perhaps he’s wandering around on a completely different continent, but at least I have something of his with me.”

My eyes flickered towards the silver band Yunho was absentmindedly playing with, his lips set in a tight line. So, the ring was from someone he dearly loved and cherished, I wished I could reach out and pat his hand to offer him comfort. But Yunho’s solemn look switched into one of contentment as he looked at me again, “Our house was in a lovely neighbourhood, filled with silence and the chirping of birds each early morning. Our servants were few, so they lived with us, and they had quickly become part of the family too. I would play in the dirt with my brother when our mother was busy in the kitchen, overlooking the cooks while also helping out. Our father worked long hours but he always returned with fresh flowers for my mother and some sort of western delicacy nobody was allowed to know about. I would often take walks on the beach, if there’s anything I miss terribly, it’s the wide sea and the calmness it brought with itself.”

“I love sailing,” I muttered, tucking my hands underneath my thighs as I hummed, “Despite what’s happened to my father, I find solace in the sea. It silences my fears, much like taking walks in the garden does. I feel like I belong to nature, that I can easily become one with it.”

“Nature is a beautiful place,” Yunho hummed, swiping his thumb against his bottom lip, watching me closely, “You’d love exploring the world.”

I chuckled sadly, “I would, Yunho, but I’m forced to rot away in this house under the very eyes of my servants and family. I can’t even be left alone here, sometimes I want it all to stop. Tell me, have you travelled a lot?”

Yunho looked abashed as he shrugged one shoulder, “Enough to see all sorts of places, people, and cases. Not each one had a happy ending, but I had learned something from each of them, so it was worth it in the end.”

“I wish to see the world, Yunho. I don’t want to be caged in here anymore. Could you set me free—no, will you set me free, Yunho?”

“I—I’ll try, I really will, Y/N. If you tell me the truth, I can help you and write a promising report on your case. But you have to be transparent with me for that to happen.”

“What if they don’t agree with you? See me as unstable and a danger to society, what then? Will I require a caretaker still?”

“I’m afraid, yes. Perhaps you’ll have even more severe surveillance, I’m sorry. I truly promise to do my best, but you have to trust me.”

“And what if…what if you became my caretaker?”

The silence that followed my question felt heavy, it felt wrong. I shouldn’t have asked that, but I was desperate to know how far Doctor Jeong would go to prove I wasn’t insane. And perhaps, a hidden sadistic part of me wanted to know just what exactly the doctor would do for me, to me.

“That would imply you are very unstable, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of such a thing.” Doctor Jeong breathed out, reaching for his spectacles.

“But would you become my caretaker?” I whispered, gazing up into his eyes with yearning as the doctor abruptly stood, “I wish to see the world, the places you go to. I wish to see South Korea once you’re allowed to go back, Yunho. Would you take me with you?”

He was packing his things frantically, breathing through his mouth loudly, “I cannot tell, Miss Harold, it implies great responsibility to look over someone unstable. Given if you were the object of my desires, I wouldn’t even consider becoming your caretaker, but I’m your doctor and it’s inappropriate.”

“Isn’t it only inappropriate if you make it that?” I stood, facing the doctor before he could run off. He looked conflicted and angry, so I backed off, “My apologies, I have taken you for granted and stepped over our boundaries as doctor and patient. I hope I haven’t made you too uncomfortable, Doctor Jeong, that’s not what I wished to do. I hope you can forgive me.”

“I will be back tomorrow, and you must tell me what happened, Miss Harold.” With a nod of his head, the doctor was at my door, quickly unlocking it, but he didn’t twist the knob right away. He took a deep breath and released it with a whisper, “And I would become your caretaker, if I could.”

His footsteps echoed through the house just as lightning struck in the distance. I walked to the window and watched the doctor get onto the motorcar as his butler drove away, trying to avoid the storm. And then, just like that, the world started spinning as blackness threatened to coat my vision.

            My knuckles were bloody from having picked at the skin consistently since I was awake. The tremors from my hand have extended to my whole body, my head felt underwater. I couldn’t understand what was happening around me, but I jumped each time thunder rumbled the earth. I know I had been placed on a chair in front of the window in my bedroom, Matilda sitting in the corner with my mother regularly checking on me, but I couldn’t tell what was being said to me or done around me. I didn’t have an appetite this morning, and getting out of bed was harder than ever before. I knew something was wrong, that something had disturbed my peace of mind, but I had no idea what this sudden change in my mood meant. I tried to break through the veil of haziness and speak to Matilda, tell her that my head was throbbing and my joints ached from how wrung up my body was, but my lips formed no words. I tried using the breathing technique Mrs Humphrey had once taught me, but nothing was working. I wasn’t able to control my body, and it was only making me more anxious.

The door to my room opened, but I continued to look out the window absentmindedly, bracing myself for the loud rumble when lightning struck again. After the doctor left yesterday, it hadn’t stopped raining ever since. I knew he couldn’t make it today, but he was determined enough to push through the storm and visit me. Unless it was a serious issue that needed to be urgently taken care of, the doctor never cancelled our session. The thought of seeing him when I felt so unwell managed to calm my racing heart, but until he was actually standing in front of me and I could gaze into his deep eyes, I couldn’t help but take shallow breaths as my muscles tensed up even more.

“Look at you,” It was Karina’s voice unmistakably, “trembling and sweating like a dying child, aren’t you? Who are you acting for, hm? The doctor isn’t here, Y/N, no need to act all pitiful like this, nobody in this house cares about you.”

Her voice was crystal clear for some reason, it made my ears ring as I released a shuddering breath. My mind was so askew that I couldn’t even answer her, I just needed a warm embrace and a deep voice to whisper that everything was fine. Did nobody care about me? That was so depressing, it brought tears to my eyes.

“Besides, he’s not coming today.” I failed to inhale as Karina continued to speak, “He sent a letter to your mother that he couldn’t find a carriage in time, so he isn’t coming. How tragic, all this acting only for him to not witness it…”

The sound that left my mouth was quiet, but unmistakably a whimper. Matilda shifted in her armchair and cleared her throat. I could see Karina through the reflection of the window, she was smirking maliciously as she stared at the back of my head. She looked so pleased with herself, that it made tears stream down my cheeks. I wanted to say something, but the lump in my throat was getting tighter and tighter, I realised I had stopped breathing. Why wouldn’t Yunho come? Was he like Karina too, did he not care about me? Did he lie to me yesterday? Was I worth so little that he couldn’t take on being my caretaker? Why must this be my fate? Why must I be forced never to leave this estate, this house, trapped under the eyes of people who either hate me or pity me? I wanted to sob, but the more I tried to breathe, the quicker I realised dark spots had started appearing in my vision.

“I don’t know what you two do during your little sessions, but the committee has given him one more week before he has to make his final report,” Karina chuckled, I heard her coming closer, fingers gripping the back of my chair, “And then, he’ll be all mine. I already talked to my father and he considers Doctor Jeong a nice suitor, how exciting. You can’t have him, Y/N, and he won’t have you either. I see the way you look at him, you are pathetic.”

Karina’s warm breath fanned my ear and cheek as she whispered her last words, cackling like an evil witch in all those fairytales my mother had told me about. My mouth parted to inhale deeply, but the spots grew darker, becoming more.

“Miss Brooks, please,” I heard Matilda plead as she sprung up from her seat, “Leave young miss alone, she isn’t feeling well.”

“Oh, shut up, you silly goose!” Karina snapped at Matilda, throwing her a disgusted look, “You and everyone else who feeds into her delusions should be admitted to an asylum, get a grip! She’s fine, she just needs her daily dose of attention, stupid girl.”

Hearing the word asylum cracked something further inside me as I sprung up from my seat, eyes wide and body cold. I looked at where Matilda was standing, but all I could see was the face of the man who found great pleasure in cutting me open just to leave me bleeding and helpless. A scream tried to tear through my throat, but I lost my balance as I tumbled to the floor, fingers digging into the floorboards painfully. Someone shrieked as my stomach heaved, but there was nothing to empty. I could hear the man’s words, his tone unbearable and scratchy as he told me I was worthless and a whore, hungry for male attention ever since my father had died. It made my skin crawl, it made me feel dirty and disgusting as I tried to scrape at my arms.

“Mrs Harold!” I could hear the panicked screams, but I couldn’t tell where I was anymore. I felt caged and in danger, like someone was leering over my shoulder, waiting for me to pass out so I could be targeted. I whimpered when I felt hands on my back and tried to slap them away, but I was forcefully hauled up to my feet. A wail finally tore through my lips, and I started trashing around when I felt myself being lifted off the floor and carried somewhere.

“No! No, stop!” I screamed, my voice nothing but a screech as my nails sunk into whoever was carrying me, “Don’t take me back there! I haven’t done anything, please! No—no! I didn’t mean to—I don’t know—wait, no, please, I’m sorry, stop!”

My body sunk into something very soft and warm as fingertips pressed into my skin, forcefully prying my eyes wide open. My lungs heaved for air as I tried to get away from whoever was touching me, but I couldn’t, they were stronger. They were always stronger, I could never get away. They would never leave me alone, I was always their little experiment. They would cut me open as if I was a rat, they would ask me questions and whip me even if I told the truth, they liked to touch me and make me beg for them to stop…I wanted to die. I couldn’t do this anymore. Why would they torture me like this? Did my mother not love me? Had my father’s ghost abandoned me?

“Please.” I managed to whisper when my body finally froze up, all fight leaving it. My muscles and joints ached, my heart thumped wildly, and I couldn’t hear my thoughts anymore.

“My baby, please, stop.” A female voice pleaded above me, “Nobody is hurting you, tell me what’s wrong, baby. I’m here, your mother is here, please.”

How could my mother be here? The asylum didn’t let anyone visit us. My eyes burned when I opened them, but I couldn’t see well, they were filled with tears. There, looming above me stood the one man I yearned for. His eyes were kind and brown like the most expensive Swiss chocolate, his skin fair with a rosy flush to his cheeks that made him endearing, small spectacles slipping down the perfect slope of his petite nose. The doctor was here.

“Yunho, save me.” My voice was barely audible as I croaked out my words, but I noticed my mother’s eyes widening before I drifted off to the darkness that had come to claim my body. Here, nobody could hurt me.

But even in my dreams, the miscreants wouldn’t leave me alone. I couldn’t tell where I was due to the darkness that enveloped me, but I felt frozen down to the bone. My summer dress did nothing to keep me warm, and the little friction to my arms only caused me to shiver more. I tried to call out to see if anyone was there with me, but my vocal cords wouldn’t even croak. My heart was racing and my eyes burned, I could tell I was in danger but I couldn’t see because of what. The impending doom I felt, however, said to me that I needed to run and that I needed to run now. So, I didn’t wait around as I grabbed the skirt of my dress and aimlessly took off, unable to see anything due to the permeating darkness. My feet hurt from all the little rocks that cut into it, and then something touched my cheek that made me cry out. It was warm, almost scorching hot against my frozen skin. There were whispers around me that I couldn’t make out, or understand even if I concentrated on them, but then one of them started making sense. It made more sense than the others, its timber familiar and warm, kind. Then, I could feel fingers tracing my left cheek, a calming hum easing my tense muscles until I could finally take a deep breath. It burned my lungs, it felt as if I was inhaling for the first time.

“Open your eyes, Miss Harold.” Then, just so that I only could hear it, the familiar voice whispered, “I’m here.”

A gasp tore through my lips as my eyes flew open, jolting me awake as I sat, frantically looking around. It was a lot darker in the room than the last time I was conscious, and the rain was hitting the roof of the house harder than before. Matilda, my mother, Mr Brooks, and Mrs Humphrey all stood at the foot of my bed, different emotions reigning on their faces. As I made eye contact with my mother, she let out a loud sob as she fell into Mr Brooks’ arms, and I felt my lower lip trembling. I hated seeing her in a state like that, worrying over me. Before I could cry too, my head was gently turned to the side until all I could see was the doctor. My mouth opened in shock as the doctor looked at me with sad, but worried, eyes, a wet rag clutched tightly in his other hand.

“Yunho.” My throat felt scratchy as I reached out incredulously, wondering whether I was just hallucinating. I noticed my bloody knuckles were bandaged now, ointment placed on the nightstand table next to my bed, “You are here? Really here?”

“Yes, Miss Harold.” He smiled gently, hesitantly letting me touch his jaw, “How are you feeling?”

“Sick,” I said before I could mule over my answer. My stomach was aching and my head was thumping, “I don’t know what happened to me, Doctor, I cannot remember.”

“Don’t try to remember now, your body and mind are overwhelmed,” Doctor Jeong then gently guided me to lay down in my bed once again, “You need to relax, Miss Harold. You fainted, and Miss Matilda has told me you haven’t eaten all day long, that’s unhealthy.”

“I’m sorry.” I felt like a child being chastised by their parent for the first time, except that Doctor Jeong’s face didn’t look even a little bit angry like my mother’s had back then, “I thought I would throw up if I ate anything, still do.”

The doctor hummed, then slightly turned to look back at the others in the room, “Mrs Humphrey, can you bring me that tea I asked you to brew? It will greatly help Miss Harold right now.”

“It’s storming outside, why did you come?” My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the doctor’s serene face, his spectacles were missing and his hair was a wavy mess on top of his head. Looking further down, I realised he wasn’t wearing his fancy suit. Instead, the doctor wore a beige tunic with the strings undone, showing a silver of his collarbones and chest. His silver cross dangled between his pecks whenever he moved forward to check for my temperature, letting the cold rag ease the thumping of my head. The doctor’s boots were still on his feet and looked muddy, but nobody was paying attention to that as he sat on the edge of my bed, taking care of me.

“I’m a doctor, my duty is to ensure my patients are healthy and safe.” Then he glanced back at my mother and Mr Brooks, Matilda had left the room with Mrs Humphrey, “You scared everyone, you scared me, Miss Harold.”

“Thank you for coming, but what you did was unsafe, Doctor Jeong.” I gulped, eyebrows furrowing in worry, “How will you get back home?”

“He will sleep here tonight, sweetheart.” Mr Brooks answered for the doctor, looking just as worried as I felt, “Can’t let him go out in this bad weather, it’s risky. I will ask the maids to make dinner for you, Doctor Jeong. The guestroom is already being prepared, your butler can sleep with the rest of the servants, if that is alright.”

“Yes, thank you for your hospitality.” Doctor Jeong bowed his head, smiling at Mr Brooks, “I’m sorry to say this, but Miss Harold should rest now and the more of us are in the room, the bigger the risk of overwhelming her is.”

“Oh, of course.” My mother whispered, her eyes glossy again, “Rest, my dear.”

I hummed as I watched her and Mr Brooks leave, leaving me alone with Doctor Jeong as the door closed after the two exited the room. I sighed long, looking at the doctor as he removed the rag from my forehead to wring it in more cold water. We said nothing as he placed the rag back onto my forehead, gently removing wet hair strands from my cheeks. He sat close to my body, but his eyes avoided looking into mine. I gulped, trying to find the right words to say just as there was a knock at the door. Doctor Jeong told them to come in and Matilda came inside with a tray and a cup of tea. She offered me a sad smile as she placed the cup of tea on the nightstand.

“Get some rest tonight, Matilda.”

“But you are not feeling well, young miss.”

“This is an order, how long until you faint from exhaustion? Please, I won’t leave my bed tonight, you shouldn’t either.” The maid looked hesitant, but didn’t say anything other than a quiet ‘thank you’, and then she was out of my room, closing the door after herself.

“Someone should check on you tonight, though.” Doctor Jeong said quietly as he helped me sit up, puffing up the pillows behind my back. He grabbed the cup of tea and handed it to me. It was still hot, its scent herbal. My nose twitched as I took a whiff of it before tasting it, cringing away from it, “It tastes horrible, I know, but it’s very good for your health. Drink it.”

It tasted so bitter I thought I would throw up on the spot, but it was supposed to make me feel better, so I toughened up and drank it as quickly as possible. The doctor watched me as I placed the cup on the nightstand, looking a little amused. I wrung my fingers together and placed them in my lap, looking down at my hands. I felt guilty for having forced the doctor to come all this way in such bad weather, yet he was looking at me with kind eyes and a soft smile.

“How do you feel now?” He asked, turning his body more to face me.

“Slightly better, my head isn’t thumping as violently as before, thank you.” I answered, sinking back into the pillows and cushions, “I think—this could be a grave accusation, but what if Karina is the reason I am like this?”

I couldn’t meet the doctor’s eyes as I chewed on my bottom lip, my thoughts whirling around too quickly for me to comprehend them. The doctor froze for a second, then I saw a hand reach out, only to settle on the blanket next to my thigh. I could feel Doctor Jeong’s body heat through the blanket, I wished he had placed his hand over my thigh instead.

“Why do you think that, Miss Harold?”

“May I call you Yunho?”

“Of course, Y/N.”

For a second, I paused and looked up with a smile. Yunho was already looking at me with a small smile on his lips, and I huffed a little embarrassed. Seeing him dressed so casually was doing something weird to me, my heart raced from excitement as I felt shy all of a sudden.

“Just like on that day, she was saying bad things to me again, antagonising me. I know she hates me, but I get so angry around her that sometimes I can’t even form words.” I gulped, eyebrows slightly furrowing as Yunho’s fingers twitched next to my thigh, “I wasn’t feeling well all day, but then she started speaking and I just—she brought the asylum up and I was back there again, being terrorised and touched—I can’t talk about it, I’m sorry, Yunho.”

“Let’s not talk about it, then.” Yunho’s jaw was clenched as he licked his lips, his forehead creasing as he leaned slightly forward.

“I don’t remember anything after that, even her words are muddy.” I felt helpless as my eyes bore into Yunho’s understanding ones, “Matilda was there the whole time, you can ask her what happened, I’m sure she’ll tell you everything. She hates Karina as much as I do, she wouldn’t lie for her.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Y/N.” Yunho nodded once, then tilted his head to the side. I gulped, feeling nervous for no reason, “Do you think you’ll be able to sleep tonight? Are you feeling tired?”

I hummed, playing around with my fingers as I looked down at my lap again. Yunho’s fingers were tapping the blanket, his breaths audible but even, “I feel spent, and I know I will be able to sleep, but I’m…scared to fall asleep alone.”

“I understand, I’ll let Mrs Harold know. Perhaps she could keep you company.”

“Yunho?”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Can you stay until I fall asleep?”

My voice was quiet as I glanced up at Yunho through my eyelashes, feeling my cheeks heat up. He looked taken aback, then something I couldn’t recognise crossed his features for a split second. He exhaled through his mouth and gulped, loudly. He hummed, deep in his chest, and flattened his palm against the blanket as he shuffled his feet around until his muddy boots hit the ground. I realigned my pillows and crawled a little further away on my bed, to make more space for Yunho as he made himself comfortable, still on the edge of it.

“But I cannot stay once you are sleeping, I’m sorry.”

“I know, it’s alright, Yunho.”

Our smiles were small but appreciative. Yunho nodded and chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes raking over my face as I watched his cheeks flush a deep shade of red. It wasn’t warm in my room, but I suppose the sheets could make him feel warm too. His hand balled into a fist, grabbing a tight hold of the blanket as I glanced down at it.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.”

“You too, Yunho.”

Every waking moment he spent thinking of her. Even in his dreams, she appears as a vixen, tempting Yunho to do unforgivable things. He knows he cannot, he’s her doctor and she’s a patient in desperate need of treatment. Yunho knows this, she isn’t his first case. He’s met people with manic episodes before, potential dissociative amnesia too, but something sets her apart from the rest. Yunho has never once in his life wanted to reach out and cradle one of his patients to his chest and tell them everything would be alright now that he was there. But when he saw her, so frail and generous, soft-spoken and kind, he couldn’t help but feel anger whenever she told him of Karina. Yunho had a feeling she wasn’t like that unprovoked, and the more he heard of Karina and her schemes against his patient, the more convinced he was that Karina had lied in the first place to get her into that asylum, far away from the safety of her home. Yunho knew what went down inside an asylum, he’s treated many mentally unstable patients before, straight inside those horror houses, and his blood boiled anytime he saw pain and terror strike upon her face whenever the asylum was mentioned. Yunho didn’t want to know, truth be told, what had happened to her there because he was sure he’d march up to that asylum and strangle every man who had hurt her. He was a doctor, his ego and fame protected him from making a mistake, but when she had led him inside her bedroom, Yunho was close to throwing it all out the window, quite literally. Her unique scent of hydrangeas had been so potent inside her bedroom, and her sitting daintily on the cushions of her queen-sized bed had his thoughts going haywire. Yunho wanted to touch her, not just tell her that she was safe and sound with him, but show her too. He was wanting and wanting, and he wondered if her story would have a happy ending. Could he save her from the madness they plastered over her head? Or would he dig her a bigger hole once the committee hears his verdict of her mental state? But what Yunho most importantly needed to sort out with himself, was the question that’s been mulling over in his head ever since she had uttered it. Would he be willing to become her caretaker? Just to keep her safe and away from Karina, of course, Yunho was a professional, above all. He told himself he didn’t have second intentions with her, but the more days passed by spent in her company, he couldn’t tell for sure anymore.

            Karina was right about one thing, the committee had given Doctor Jeong one more week to sort out everything. He was right, I couldn’t beat around the bush anymore, besides, we had gotten close in my story to that faithful day. Doctor Jeong knew this, I knew it too. Because he was afraid of overwhelming me again too soon, he had given me two days of bed rest before he’d return to resume our sessions. The two days had gone by and I was nervously waiting for him in the foyer. After the storm passed, the heat returned even stronger. I didn’t wish to stay in the house, it aggravated me anytime I glanced towards the stairs, Karina’s injured body lying by the foot of it too clear in my mind. The doctor’s patent motorcar was louder today than other days as it rolled to the front of the house, where he was welcomed by Mr Allen, the gardener. He was an elderly man who had grown fond of Doctor Jeong like many others in the household. Myself included, which would explain why my heart was beating uncontrollably once again, sweat brimming my eyebrows.

“Will you be alright?” Leia asked as she shuffled past behind me, fresh bedsheets in her arms, “I don’t think Matilda will survive one of your episodes.”

Leia had no mal-intentions, she was just honest down to a pulp. I chuckled, glancing at her as she had stopped in the doorway to the laundry room.

“I might not survive another episode, too.” Leia’s eyes widened guiltily, but I continued to smile, “If the doctor writes a good report about me, I’ll finally be out of your hair, Leia. Pray for it.”

“I don’t believe in God, young miss.”

“Don’t let Doctor Jeong know that.”

Speaking of the devil, his knuckles rasped against the sturdy front door as Leia grinned, disappearing inside the laundry room. I opened the door before the doctor could knock again, welcoming him with a bright smile on my face. He paused, looking taken aback.

“Good morning, Doctor Jeong.” I greeted him, stepping aside to let him walk inside.

“Good morning, Miss Harold, you seem to be doing fine.” He returned a small smile as he shrugged his blazer off, wearing another tunic but fancier this time. It was a deep green, paired with his brown trousers which made him look like he was a huntsman returning from a long hunt to his wife, jittery to have her in his arms. I gulped, feeling embarrassed by my thoughts when I realised, I had imagined myself as the wife Doctor Jeong would return home to. It was inappropriate, but the thought was intrusive and fast before I could stop it.

“Thank you for letting me rest, it has helped.” I hummed, raising a hand when the doctor went to step out of his polished shoes, “Do you mind if we sit underneath the willow tree today?”

“Not at all,” The doctor beamed, taking me off guard, “I was just about to suggest it, you know we cannot postpone today’s topic. Being in a place you love might bring comfort, I hope, at least.”

“You are thoughtful,” I smiled, then led the way towards the tea room, the grand doors were pulled open, letting inside the fresh warm breeze. Mr Allen was in the doorway, trimming the bushes, but he made way for us when he spotted us. I offered him an appreciative smile as he raised his hand in a silent greeting, a straw of wheat between his teeth as he tipped his hat towards Doctor Jeong. The doctor bowed back to him politely before we made our way down the gravel path, headed towards the willow tree. The warmth today made me feel hot despite the thin summer dress I wore, its sleeves short with a sweetheart neckline. It was a sage green, a pretty contrast against my copper curls. Without needing to ask, Matilda has made a daisy crown to wrap around my bun. I felt pretty and safe covered in my favourite things, sitting underneath the willow tree as frogs ribbited down by the pond, bees buzzing by. The doctor got ready as he opened his satchel bag, taking his notebook and new pencil out. As we sat, I noticed our thighs brushing together, the doctor’s now musky cologne invading my senses. When he placed his notebook on his left thigh, twisting his upper body to face mine, the pages of it brushed against my own thigh too.

“In our last session, you spoke about visiting your father’s grave with your mother. You made him a daisy crown since he loved the flowers just as much as you do, and then, when you returned home, your once lover was waiting for you in the foyer.” Doctor Jeong’s tone was gentle but impersonal, he was a professional after all, “You stopped after you said you were fighting and it got…violent? You must elaborate on that, did nobody hear it? Did nobody help?”

I sighed, picking at the grass, “It didn’t get violent in the sense of a physical altercation, but our words were harsh and unforgiving. He called me many names that day, he broke my heart, Doctor Jeong. I know you are curious about what was said, and because it leads up to what happened between Karina and me, I shall tell you.”

The doctor was jotting down my words in his notebook, his hand flying over the page. His bottom lip was between his teeth as he pushed at his spectacles with his other hand. He hummed and briefly glanced at me when I remained quiet for too long. I had to brace myself, so, I took a deep breath and gazed at the doctor instead of at the house, finding my nerves calmer if I gazed at his beautiful face, and his chocolate brown eyes whenever he held eye contact.

“Matthew, the man I had once loved, was my fiancé. He had asked for my hand while my father was still alive, our love story goes way back. We’ve grown up together due to our father’s being friends, and chancefully had fallen in love too. He was always sweet and loving, he respected me, and always heard me out. I suppose that is what attracted me to him most, I could see a glimpse of how my father treated my mother in him. But we had our ups and downs too, he was way too jealous and hated it when I spoke to other men, meanwhile, I had no problem if he had female friends. After my father died…it was hard for me to come to terms with it, I was sad every day for a very long time. I didn’t want to see anyone but my mother, not even Matthew. He knew I needed time, but he was getting impatient, he was bringing up marriage more often than not, but I wasn’t ready yet. I had just lost my father and the thought of not walking down the aisle with him by my side just hurt too much.” I paused and licked my lips, pulling my knees up to my chest as I felt the doctor shift and lean even closer, “And then as my mother and I healed together, she found Mr Brooks. It took them a while to settle down, paperwork and whatnot got in the way as well as people talking nasty behind their backs, but when I found out Mr Brooks had a daughter too, I felt hopeful. I thought I would finally find a true friend, someone to share everything with. Karina was lovely at first, very kind and funny, I could easily consider her my sister even if we weren’t related by blood. But then, one evening we went out to a pub where she finally met Matthew, and things just…changed.”

Doctor Jeong hummed, still writing as I let my eyes take in his focused expression. His forehead was creased slightly as he chewed on his bottom lip, his neck flushed from the heat. I had also shifted more into his space subconsciously, and I had to refrain from tracing his brows before sinking my fingers into his smooth-looking hair, “You see, it wasn’t Matthew who had changed, but Karina’s attitude towards me. She became snappy and rude, she didn’t make it obvious, but I knew she was looking down on me. She barely talked to me now when my mother and her father weren’t around, but she somehow always found time to ask about Matthew. At first, I thought nothing much of it, I figured she might’ve not liked him too much and was looking out for me in an obscure way, but then I found their letters. Mr Allen was bringing in the post and I told him I would sort them out, so when I saw Matthew’s letter, of course I had assumed it was for me…except, it hadn’t been. It was addressed to Karina, and there were all sort of weird questions about me as if whatever Karina had said before had upset him.”

“Has Karina been sending him letters behind your back?” Doctor Jeong looked confused as he looked up at me, his round eyes narrowed and void of kindness. When the doctor was this serious, he looked almost frightening. But I knew he was kind and caring underneath that mask, so I didn’t care. I hummed and nodded, absentmindedly picking at the scabs that had formed over my bruised knuckles.

“Yes, and she was lying to him, saying very ugly things about me. Still to this day, I don’t understand why she did all of that. Leia says she’s blinded by jealousy and wants to be better than me, but unless Karina says it, I don’t want to believe it. Anyways, I didn’t confront Karina right away, I hurried over to Matthew’s house to talk to him.” I huffed sadly, looking at the doctor again, “He was just about to mount his horse and leave for the city, but when he saw me, he knew we had to talk. It turns out, Karina has been lying about me for months now, saying I was seeing other men behind his back and somehow even made up some evidence of it. She had sent him handkerchiefs that had been my father’s, claiming they were of those I was—sleeping with. She even told him I was badmouthing him and that I was only marrying him out of pity, and because my father had made me promise I would marry someone richer than my family. But—it was all lies! I loved Matthew, I always have! I wanted to marry him and have a nice household, but Karina took it all away from me. What he said to me…it had hurt a lot, and it still does, so I won’t repeat his words, but he broke off our engagement and told me to never appear in front of his eyes. I had loved him, Yunho…”

My throat clenched as I took a shuddering breath, eyes filled with tears. Yunho had stopped writing and looked at me with pain in his eyes, bottom lip between his teeth, “I’m sorry, you deserved better.”

I hummed with a sad chuckle and quickly wiped my eyes before the tears could fall. This was it, this is what Yunho had been desperately wanting to hear for a month now. I lowered my legs and looked at Yunho with a neutral expression, making his eyes widen minutely, “I know, but it’s okay. If God is watching like everyone claims him to be, Karina will be punished, and so will Matthew. I was a mess after that conversation with Matthew, and I cried all the way back home. My chest was clenching and my heart was thumping wildly, I thought that was what heartbreak felt like, and I still believe so. When I stumbled through our front door, Karina was just…there. Waiting for me in the foyer with an amused smirk. She didn’t even feign innocence as she asked what happened, she could clearly see Matthew’s crumbled letter in my hand. I won’t deny it, I said some very ugly things to her. I didn’t even let her speak as I exploded on her, I’m still surprised the house staff didn’t try to stop me. I have said this in my report too, but I struck first, I slapped her and pushed her back when she started laughing. She was only doing it to make me even angrier, and it was working.”

My muscles tensed as I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, keeping it in my lungs as Yunho’s jaw was clenched, his eyes focused on my face as I continued talking, “I needed space, so I backed away before I could do anything really hurtful. My head was thumping and my body was shaking, I felt like I was suffocating. Karina just continued laughing as I hurried to the stairs, wanting to lock myself in my room and cry myself to sleep. She was following after me, now cackling instead of laughing, and then she said something—something that I’ll never forget, ‘All that courting and playing around each other just to never even fuck him? Don’t worry, you’re not missing out on anything, sister, he’s not even good in bed.’ I saw red when I heard her say that, my thoughts were a mess and I didn’t even doubt the accuracy of her words. I just reacted, I know I slapped her again as I stopped on the stairs, but I couldn’t say anything as I was close to sobbing, so I just ran up the rest of the stairs, but she was still following after me. She was saying something, and I was screaming at her to shut up, but she wouldn’t. And I—I just really wanted her to shut up, to not look at me with those eyes and I just—I don’t know, Doctor, I don’t know. My whole body was shaking and I couldn’t see clearly, my head was aching and I couldn’t even hear anymore, I just—I just remember suddenly coming to myself again when there was a shrill screech. And then I remember Matilda looking at me with terror in her eyes as she called for Jesper and Mr Allen to come help, to call for a doctor.”

“In your report, you said—”

“I know what I said, Yunho, I said I turned around and gave her a backhanded slap, yanked on her hair and bashed her head against the wall before pushing her down the stairs.” Yunho’s eyes were shaking as our faces were close, “But I don’t remember doing any of those, the lawyer told me to say that to protect myself from a serious accusation. Matilda lied for me, and so did Mr Allen. In the end, Mr Brooks paid the judge and I was simply classified as insane, the case was swept under the rug and I’ve been forced to live like this ever since.”

“I knew there was something wrong with that report,” Yunho muttered under his breath, “But why did you lie?”

“I was young and scared,” I sighed, my eyes searching Yunho’s face for any judgment, but it wasn’t there, “I thought they would lock me up if I didn’t make up a story. But in the end, I was locked up in my own house for six years, a prison still, just different. I fainted in the court too, I don’t remember much from there either.”

Yunho looked troubled as his eyebrows were deeply furrowed, his bottom lip thoroughly chewed on, and his spectacles pushed up on his nose. With his free hand, he reached forward, but stopped just before his fingertips could touch my hand and instead balled it up into a fist and lowered it back into his lap. His jaw clenched as he gulped, shaking his head as he looked down at his notebook.

“I have a scar on my abdomen,” I whispered, hand pressing against my covered stomach, “from having fallen over and cutting myself, do you believe me, Doctor?”

When Yunho’s jaw just clenched and he didn’t look at me, I gulped nervously and reached towards my sleeves to pull them off, to let the dress pool at my waist, but one fleeting glance at me had Yunho reaching forward with a panic-ridden face, his eyes widening, “Stop, what are you doing? I believe you, Y/N, I do.”

His hands were big and warm, wrapped completely around mine as the sleeve of my dress swiftly slipped off my left shoulder. His thumb rubbed my bruised knuckles, and despite the sting, I welcomed the affectionate gesture as it covered my arms in goosebumps. I released a long breath, my eyes boring into Yunho’s. His eyes were easy to read, he looked conflicted and confused. I had no idea if he believed me, but I wanted him to. Hurting Karina was wrong, but she deserved it, and I was glad I managed to make her hurt at least once compared to how many times she had hurt me. But I remained silent as Yunho leaned even closer, our faces a breath away from each other. He gulped, loudly, then frowned. As I opened my mouth, he looked alarmed and scrambled backwards, letting my hands drop into my lap as he gasped, grabbing for his things frantically. I didn’t understand what was happening, but when I tried to help, he just pushed my hand away. My heart hammered in my chest nervously as sweat rolled down my temples, and I stood so quickly I got whiplash. Doctor Jeong was just about to take off towards the house when a desperate question left my lips.

“Will you save me, Doctor Jeong?” My voice was trembling just as much as Yunho’s hands, “Will you become my caretaker and take me away with you, will you?”

My questions went unanswered as Yunho ran off, not even bothering to go inside the house as he followed the cobbled path to the front of the house. The engine of his motorcar was loud as I slumped back against the tree with a dizzy head.

             The committee was more eager than I had thought at first to wrap this whole thing up. Just two days after my last encounter with the doctor, a letter came at an early morning hour that the verdict would be given today. I was nervous, but I braced myself for the worst possible ending, which would be me being sent back to the asylum. I doubted I would survive that once again, so I could only hope the doctor had taken pity on me and would be generous in his report. My mother had been buzzing around the house all morning, making sure everything was perfect for the arrival of the committee. Cookies had been baked, fresh tea was brewed, the ground floor aired out with every corner dusted off, and the tea room was decorated with vases of freshly picked flowers. The grand doors were opened, creating a serene surrounding as I sat on the sofa by myself. Nobody was inside the room except for me, something which was rare. I gaze forward, at the visage, trying to commit it to memory. I wondered if I would get to see it tomorrow too.

Matilda had dressed me in a dainty white dress to feign innocence, with my hair pulled in a low bun, and daisies hanging out of it. It felt as if the ghost of my father was here to cheer me on, to offer me some braveness before everything would unfold. And it would, way too soon. There were loud knocks against the front door before it was opened, and six people piled inside our foyer. My mother and Karina quickly walked inside the room with my mother sitting next to me, meanwhile, Karina took her spot in her favourite armchair. The image was eerily similar to the first day the doctor had arrived, it made my heart race. The rest of my future was in the hands of another man, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I knew what I had done to Karina was wrong, but a small part of me knew that she had deserved it. My muscles tensed when Mr Brooks’ voice carried inside the tea room as he led the committee and Doctor Jeong inside. My jaw clenched and my hands balled into fists as they each walked in, eyes on me as I remained unmoving.

The committee consisted of the town mayor, the judge who had handled my case, the town’s richest married couple, and Father Louis, the head of our church. My stomach churned as the familiar faces sat down surrounding me, leaving space for Doctor Jeong at the front. Mr Brook sat next to my mother and held her hand, making my mother sigh loudly. I didn’t want to look at anyone, I was afraid to see what they hid in their eyes. The doctor seemed tense as he rolled his shoulders a few times, then cleared his throat and accepted the tea from Mrs Humphrey, who had insisted on staying in the room, in the back where she didn’t bother anyone. I couldn’t focus on anyone else but the doctor as he finally seemed like he was ready to speak up. He faced the room and his eyes took in everyone, staying on me for a second too long. I could see Karina sneer from my peripheral vision, but I didn’t care. I was just as curious to hear what Doctor Jeong had to say as the committee.

“Dear committee, Mr and Miss Brooks, Mrs and Miss Harold, and of course, Mrs Humphrey,” Doctor Jeong bowed his head lightly, “Thank you for coming, and I’d like to thank the committee for entrusting me with this intricate and peculiar case. I must say before I begin, that I have encountered cases like Miss Harold’s before, but neither one has been as complex as hers. I trust my personal judgement and everything I have learned up until this point, that my verdict is the right choice, and that if the committee sees it fit as well, it shall proceed with Miss Harold’s sentence accordingly.”

Doctor Jeong’s fingers were wrung together in front of him, his dark blue suit was perfect. He looked dashingly handsome with his wavy hair falling all over his forehead and into his eyes, his spectacles perched into the pocket of his vest. His warm eyes found mine for a second before he looked around the room again, nodding to himself. He took a deep breath and continued his speech, starting to pace around the front of the room. Him standing in front of the garden and the path that led to the willow tree was dreamy, “We all know that Miss Harold had lost her father when she was young, which would be hard news to swallow for a person at any age. I assume that his early death left Miss Harold traumatised in a way that could go unnoticed unless looked upon by a professional, which didn’t happen. Her stress and repressed pain had accumulated, waiting for a small spark to ignite the explosion, which did happen as we all know it. I spent a month daily by Miss Harold’s side, listening to stories of her childhood, and her adulthood, all leading up to the moment we’ve all been curious about. During my time studying her, I’ve come to observe that she is a very kind soul, attentive, and a generous person. She is soft-spoken and very sensitive to everything that happens around her, it is rather hard for me to imagine she could even as much as hurt a fly.”

I gulped, feeling my heart hammer in my chest as Yunho spoke with much conviction, his eyebrows furrowed as he stopped moving around, his eyes settling on Father Louis, “Her mental state, however, fluctuates a lot based on her surroundings, she easily reacts to the change of weather and the change of mood of a person. People like Miss Harold aren’t only in touch with their peers, but with nature as well, as insane as that might sound, it’s a rather special attribute to have. She’s had bad days during our sessions, and I had the chance to further observe the cause of this. As a psychiatrist, I do not enjoy lightly throwing out diagnoses, but I have to ensure the health of my patients. Miss Harold suffers from manic episodes that get triggered by certain words, environmental changes, and people. In Miss Harold’s stories, I have found one person who seemed to be always around her when these episodes happened, making me confident in my theory that she is Miss Harold’s trigger.”

The people in the room gasped as they looked around. My heart was hammering, I could feel my pulse in my throat, but I couldn’t help but let out an amused huff. Karina’s eyes were wide and her knuckles white as she gripped the armrest of the armchair, fear painting her face. It felt satisfying looking at her, and if I hadn’t known the doctor better, I would’ve missed the satisfied smirk on his lips there for a millisecond, “If this wasn’t about the health of Miss Harold, I wouldn’t be throwing out names so unabashedly, but this is to ensure her safety and health. Miss Brooks seems to like to pick on Miss Harold whenever she gets the chance, and she likes provoking her sister. Before anyone could deny my claim, I was witness to such a thing happening, Miss Brooks herself has said some very rude things about Miss Harold that no lady should utter, less about their sister, even if not related by blood. That being said, I cannot throw all the blame on Miss Brooks since Miss Harold is traumatised and doesn’t know how to handle it, or how to control her outbursts.”

Then, as if there was nobody else in the room with us, Doctor Jeong’s eyes found mine, his expression softening. Karina had started crying next to me, but I couldn’t care less as my mother was glaring at her, the committee didn’t look very pleased either.

“What she said in her report…” Doctor Jeong loosened his necktie a little, licking his lips, “Turns out to be true. In a fit of rage, she disassociated and acted upon instinct. I do not know if she had told anyone, but Miss Brooks had come between Miss Harold and her fiancé, breaking off their marriage. As someone who had been in love once, much like all of you in this room, I’d like to assume, we all know what it means to experience our first heartbreak. For someone who had grown up with this boy, loved him with their whole heart, and was supposed to grow old with them, to hear their engagement was broken off based on some lies made up by Miss Brooks not too soon after Miss Harold’s has lost her father must’ve been devastating. Thus, the trauma she had experienced before due to her father’s untimely death combined with another tragedy has made Miss Harold’s mind break, lose its bearings, making her unable to tell right from wrong.”

I couldn’t breathe as my eyes bore into Yunho’s, filling with tears. I had expected him to go against me for having lied in my report, or to try and go around the topic without bringing it up much, but no, he was actively lying for me and keeping up the image that I had a lapse of judgement all this time. My mother’s hand found mine as she squeezed it reassuringly, tears streaming down her cheeks. I glanced at her fleetingly, my body buzzing with life as my hands trembled. I wanted to see the faces of the committee members, but Yunho was all I could look at. There was a heavy sigh in the room, it could’ve come from Mr Brooks or someone else, I couldn’t tell.

“I’m very close to giving my verdict, so allow me to say this before that,” Yunho smiled softly, looking towards the committee with a gentle look on his face, but with a steely look in his eyes, “Miss Harold’s is a human like all of us in this room, and she is allowed to make mistakes. She’s been punished for her mistakes, probably unfairly, and we mustn’t make the same mistake again. I have concluded, that Miss Harold needs an environmental change for her to fully heal. This house no longer feels homey to her, she feels caged in and watched all the time, plus now you all know that Miss Brooks won’t leave her alone either. As a verdict, I have concluded that if the committee and her mother agree, Miss Harold could be assigned a new caretaker. And…before you make suggestions as to who could fit this role best, I would like you all to consider me as her new caretaker for the next year. I am a doctor, I know what to do and how to act in case she is having another episode. I will be leaving the country in a month to return to France, where my foster father has requested my presence. The environmental change would benefit Miss Harold greatly, that is, if you trust me, of course.”

I felt close to fainting by the time Yunho had stopped talking. Him, Doctor Jeong Yunho, my new caretaker? Could that be possible? Would the committee even let it happen? I had no idea, but I wanted to fall in his arms and sob as I thanked him for his effort, for listening to me, for trying to save me from this place. The committee erupted in whispered mutters amongst themselves, but Father Louis seemed more than pleased with Yunho. His brows were sweaty as he dabbed at them with the back of his wrist, his arms covered with the sleeves despite the heat. My mother wasn’t moving next to me, and Mr Brooks had turned his body away from Karina, who was trying to catch her father’s gaze insistently. Then, there was a tsk as the judge rose to his feet, all eyes falling on him.

“Thank you. Doctor Jeong, for your in-depth analysis and for the tabs and reports you’ve been keeping on Miss Harold this month, we appreciate it.” He rubbed at his chin, his hair already silver from age, “We have selected you, Doctor, to treat this delicate case because we have heard of your expertise. You have never once failed to treat your patients accordingly, and I find no reason to doubt your verdict, however, wouldn’t it be risky to take Miss Harold away from here? Couldn’t that trigger her madness even more? And if Mrs Harold won’t agree, she cannot go. Either way, we cannot let her go unless you promise to report back to us monthly, Doctor Jeong, and once the one year is up, you must return her home. She shall be reevaluated, then her fate will be decided for the future.”

When Yunho and my eyes met again, I knew my fate had been sealed. France, a new beginning by his side, sounded like a far-fetched dream that was now within my reach.

Yunho was a professional, except when it came to her. The lines had blurred long ago, he couldn’t tell who was the doctor and who was the patient when it came to her. All Yunho knew was that he could never let her go, not when she clung to him as if her life depended on him. Her lips tasted like honey and her moans were the prettiest music he had ever had the chance to hear, her skin soft and warm and her body so pliant underneath his. All it took was one touch from her for his whole being to crumble, he felt drunk on her, insatiable. Yunho knew he couldn’t let her return home, not now that he’d found Mingi too, not when the three of them were living in a tucked away village in a homey cottage, away from prying eyes. Yunho finally had what he’d been yearning for his whole life. His family was back, right within his reach, and even when he missed his home, he’d gaze upon Mingi and her, and realise that his home was here with them. And she was sweet like nectar, Yunho’s guilty pleasure that he just couldn’t get rid of—didn’t want to get rid of. He was a bad man for preying upon the innocent and unassuming ones, but may God forgive him for his sins, he was just a man after all. He knew he was bound to become insane like his patients one day, but Yunho was already a madman for her, and he didn’t care. Profession be damned, only the four walls of their cottage would truly know the truth, much like her amnesiac brain that had no desire to return to a land and home that’s treated her so horribly once. Here, Yunho was a complete man and he had wowed to protect what was his…no matter what it took. Mingi and her were staying there with him, forever.

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[lay-z]

❄️ Day 7 – Make do

Synopsis: Stuck in a safe house on a mission in the middle of nowhere on Christmas Eve, you and your alpha teammates are in dire need of some comfort.

Pairing: alpha!TF-141 x fem!omega!Reader Warnings/Info: No smut. | Omegaverse; military!Reader; a/b/o dynamics; emotional support (dog) omega; fluff; suggestive content; flirting; teammates to lovers/mates; eventual poly!relationship; eventual romance; typical omega/alpha behaviour

Word count: 2.5k

↳ back to 🎅🏼 Masterlist ☃️

Location: [Redacted]

EST. remng. time until exfil: 8 hrs. 4 min. 37 sec.

The wind is howling outside the shabby safe house, whistling through the creaks and cracks of withered floorboards while the rain keeps pouring down in ice buckets, fat drops pounding against the leaky windows.

You fear the seemingly ancient hut might cave in like an unstable card house with each violent gust of wind.

It’s definitely not cosy and anything but how you’d imagine to spend your holidays this year, but alas – you’re in the military, freshly recruited by a secret special ops task force just a handful of weeks ago, and neither war nor terrorism take a break, so you won’t, either. And you’re still trying to proof yourself to them, to those rugged, dominant and battle-hardened alpha soldiers.

Still, you’ve been away from a proper nest for nearly a month now and it’s starting to make you terribly anxious. You cannot possibly be of any use for your assigned alphas like this, not if you can’t even take care of yourself properly, and it’s showing.

Sometimes, the novelty of this arrangement catches up to you, makes you question your whole being and purpose. Especially, when you struggle to approach certain members of the squad to even offer your help and do your job. However, Captain Price had informed you in the beginning that you’re their first assigned emotional support omega, that some of his soldiers have never even been in close proximity to one before. He never told you who, but you already have a good hunch.

You don’t want them to know about your inner turmoil, though; don’t want them to think of you as some spoiled, prissy omega when you’re definitely still a soldier, as capable of the same war atrocities as they are – even if your nature gets in the way sometimes.

So, you do what you do best, grit your teeth, keep your demeanour neutral and make your usual rounds, seeing if anyone is in need of your support, though you’re ready for their usual declination – which is something that stings even worse than your own unmet need for comfort.

Nuzzling the cold tip of your nose into the thick collar of your winter combat jacket, you peel yourself away from the raggedy cot in the guest bedroom, boot-clad feet dragging along the creaking floorboards as you square your shoulders despite your own discomfort and walk down the short hallway into the dimly lit, sparsely furnished open living room.

And your nose immediately wrinkles at the concoction of sour, agitated alpha scents, cigar smoke, gun oil and musty wood. It’s bad enough to make your eyes water, but you swiftly blink away the gloss in your eyes, determined not to let them know how bad this is.

“Gentlemen,” you speak your greeting into the room, clearing your dry throat awkwardly as you assess the situation while the men barely seem to acknowledge you.

Captain Price is standing by a cracked window, puffing on a stubby cigar while staring outside into the semi-darkness, watching the storm, his broad shoulders tense and spine rigid.

Gaz is reading a worn softback book, sitting in the corner of the shabby couch where the old standard lamp flickers every couple of seconds, his dark brows drawn together in concentration, though his eyes barely move.

Soap is slumped in the only upholstered armchair, the battered cushions looking like they’ve seen better days; long legs stretched out in front of him, his bulky arms resting on each armrest while his head is tilted back, eyes flickering behind closed eyelids.

And the Lieutenant, Ghost, is sitting at the wobbly table on an equally wobbly chair in the darkest corner of the room, sharpening and cleaning his ballistic knives, the heavy scent of restlessness accumulated in his spot, though, as usual, his expression is hidden behind his skull mask, an air of indifference carefully crafted around his self while his own nature betrays him.

Their behaviour is making your stomach twist into knots and you swallow down a soft whine as your inner omega starts trembling with anxiety.

Then, Soap speaks up, his gruff, roguish voice breaking the tense silence, “Ye busy, sweetheart?”

You blink dumbly, eyes flickering around the room, unsure if he’s truly talking to you or–

But Soap lifts his head then, a boyish grin on his lips as his bright cerulean eyes lock with your, nearly making you squeak in surprise.

“C’mere, Corporal.” He says, lifting his bare right hand and curling his index finger, beckoning you over playfully before patting his thick thighs. It’s not an order, but the sudden interaction between you and the Sergeant has the other alphas perk up one way or another.

Price glances over his shoulder, blowing out a thick plume of smoke around the cigar between his lips. Gaz looks up from the pages of his book, one eyebrow raised curiously, his warm brown eyes flickering between Price, Soap and you while Ghost stops polishing one of his knives briefly before proceeding again.

It’s the first time one of them has made the conscious decision to ask for your presence, disregarding the brief and rare sniffs all of them have taken of your comforting omega scent in between action and battles.

Almost unconsciously, you give a stiff nod before approaching him while he sits up straighter in the armchair, moving his legs and angling his knees to give you more space.

“How–uhm–How do you… want me, Sergeant?” You ask tentatively, oblivious to the double-meaning of your innocent question, struggling to keep up your professionalism as you rock back and forth on your heels, heart pounding in your throat.

Soap’s formerly tired, half-lidded eyes light up with mirth as he drinks in your uncertainty, and deep down, he feels so bad for himself for denying himself and you this comfort  that you and the rest of the squad so desperately need – all on orders from Price; the admonition from several weeks ago still ringing in the young Sergeant’s ears.

“Don’t overwhelm her, lads. She’s precious tha’ one, a bloody fine soldier, and we wanna keep her around with us.”

But the Captain forgot that this is literally your job, that this is why you’re here with them in the first place, and gods damn, Soap needs a whiff of your scent, of something else but his or his pack mates acrid stench – something more like candied apples, cinnamon and fresh wildflowers – something more like you, sweet, sweet omega.

Soap holds his right hand out to you and waits for you to reach out as well, before he grasps your smaller, cold hand swiftly, pulling you onto his lap while he keeps you steady with his left, manhandling you until you’re sitting perched up oh so prettily on his broad lap.

Your lashes flitter briskly, bright doe-eyes flickering nervously as you drink in his features this up close and Soap is preening internally at the reaction you’re showing him, so surprised and almost innocent despite your occupation.

“Ye like sitting here with me, aye, sweetheart? Not too much for ye, innit?” He queries nicely, loud enough for the others, especially Price, to hear, while the corners of his eyes crinkle with giddiness.

You scan the room discreetly, vigilant eyes moving left and right, like prey looking out for predators, unsure if this might be some kind of test perhaps, to see if you’re a good omega, able to do what you’re supposed to. Looking back into Soap’s pretty eyes, you give a slow nod, “Yes and no, sir.”

“Aye… thought so.” Soap chuckles gruffly, pulling you closer against his buff chest, eager to have your warmth and scent seep through his clothes, mark his skin and calm his restless soul.

Gaz can’t take it anymore, can’t even continue pretending to be preoccupied with this stupid book in his hands. Not when you’re sitting on Soap’s lap like that, whispering and giggling with him like you’ve never done anything else before. It had already been hard enough, acting as if you weren’t there since you joined the team, when all Gaz wants to do is bury his face in your neck, nuzzle your soft skin, cuddle you close and have your soothing purrs reverberate against his chest.

He didn’t have a chance to hear them yet, but he’s sure you would make the cutest sounds and noises.

His jaw ticks when a whiff of your saccharine scent wafts over to him while he’s still seated on the shabby couch, just a few metres away from you. Perhaps, he could just snatch you right out of Soap’s hold–

The low rumble of Price’s chiding alpha growl makes Gaz bristle, eyes widening imperceptibly as he ducks his head slightly, because how did the old geezer even sense that he was becoming jealous… and possessive.

Suddenly, Soap calls out, “Oi, Garrick? Ye want a turn?”

Gaz perks up; closing the book at once, though he looks over at the Captain for guidance and permission, because he sure as hell won’t disobey a direct order like Soap did when the latter had asked for your comfort.

Meanwhile, Price’s annoyance is still simmering below the surface, vein throbbing rhythmically in his neck as he listens and watches how the Scottish Sergeant is acting with you, all gentle and playful, practically putty in your presence.

The room reeks less of agitation and discomfort now, their aggressive alpha pheromones now dulled and whitewashed by your strong, syrupy omega scent, melodic giggles and dainty demeanour, and Price has to admit, Soap does seem to be in higher spirits now.

So, he meets Gaz’ pleading eyes with a firm nod, and watches the younger alpha scramble to his feet, opening his arms invitingly, while Price keeps his distance, chewing on the glimmering cigar stump to ease his own restlessness.

“Hand her over, MacTavish,” Gaz huffs, long fingers wiggling in anticipation, “You wanna stay with me a bit, hm, sunshine? Aye, ‘course you do–” He coos at you, leaning in a little and getting a first real nose full of your intoxicating scent at this proximity. His pupils dilate at once, making Soap chuckle as he loosens his arms around you reluctantly.

You answer with equal eagerness, eyes twinkling happily as you slip into Gaz’ strong arms, chirping, “Yes, sure!”

You end up sandwiched between Soap and Gaz on the small couch, cooped up in two different pairs of strong, bulky arms while both young alphas gush over you, courting for your attention as they nuzzle, kiss and lick your neck, your hair, any patch of exposed skin they can reach. You don’t mind them scent marking you for the first time, don’t mind the way they’re getting excited as you feel their big bulges strain against the rough fabric of their combat trousers whenever you’re switched back and forth in their embraces.

Just once do you need to correct Soap’s behaviour by pinching the nape of his neck, when he bucks his hips up against your clothed core, rubbing his growing arousal against you briefly. But Gaz chides him, too, and that’s that before you continue coddling them as much as they do you.

Ghost is usually great at blending out his surroundings while simultaneously being hyper-aware of them, but you’re slowly and surely starting to get under his scarred, pale skin, carefully chipping away at his resolve with each tentative offer of your assistance to him and his packmates, always looking mighty eager to please and serve.

Fucking hell.

It's sickening, really, how your enticing omega scent seeps even through the barrier of black cloth covering his nose.

He’s never allowed himself to smell something so sweet, let alone be in close proximity with someone like you.

When Price had submitted the application for an emotional support omega for the 141 to the brass, Ghost had nearly lost it and, in a semblance of panic, threatened with both resignation and applying to transfer to another task force, anything that would put space between himself and any omega, not trusting himself to be around something precious and fragile like that.

And then you showed up one day, pretty as a peach, ripe as one, too, and Ghost reluctantly accepted your presence with a grumble, enforcing Price’s order not to get too close to you, though, that’s easier said than done, he’d learned fairly quickly.

Now, Ghost can barely keep himself from staring at the couch, where both Soap and Gaz are seemingly having the time of their lives – basking in the attention of their own little omega. He’s never seen the two alpha Sergeant’s act so bloody… corny.

And yet, the Lieutenant can’t help and wonder how it must feel like to hold you, to feel your weight on his lap and feel your hair tickle his nose when he leans in to–

“I know what I said about her,” Price clasps his heavy hand on Ghost’s shoulder, bringing him back to reality, “– but perhaps you shouldn’t keep restraining yourself like that, Simon,” The Captain mutters, “It ain’t healthy.”

“An’ what about you, sir?” Ghost counters, not looking up as he finishes up polishing his last knife for the third time.

Price huffs in amusement, fishing another cigar from one of his breast pockets.

“Don’t ya worry about me, lad.”

When Soap pulls back from your kiss-swollen lips at once, you whine softly, chasing after his pretty mouth, already utterly spoiled bit the little bit of attention you’d gotten from the young Sergeants, until the expression on his handsome face makes you pause and snap out of your contented daze.

“Ye ready for a turn, Lt.? Think ye can handle it?” Soap snickers while Gaz scoots to the other end of the couch, clearing his throat loudly, looking at anything but the behemoth of an alpha in his black combat uniform, now standing in front of the couch.

Your eyes go comically big as you tilt your head back against Soap’s broad shoulder to gaze up at the stoic Lieutenant; the cloth of his skull mask now tucked up to the bridge of his crooked nose, revealing dirty blonde stubble and several thick silvery scars along his exposed neck and the lower half of his face while his onyx eyes stare down at you with unmatched intensity.

“I dunno, Johnny,” Ghost gruffs out, tongue darting out to lick his chapped bottom lip, “Think yer pretty bird can handle me?”

[auspicioustidings]

So there are only certain places you can do boat training hence the hotels around these places tend to be packed full of military on occasion. Imagining running a ramshackle, barely hanging on b&b. You inherited it and can't bear the thought of selling up the pride and joy of someone you loved.

It's by the sea in an absolute dead town, you are the youngest resident who isn't a child and every eligible bachelor is always in the bar of the b&b for a drink so they can have a go at drunkenly asking you out. It's endearing you suppose.

When the nearest boat training down in the city closes for refurb, that leaves the absolute abysmal old school training in this place actually picking up big contracts and you cry when your little b&b gets fully booked out with all the groups needing somewhere close by to stay for the 4 days it takes for the training to run. That's money from beds, money from board, if you're lucky money from pints in the evening.

You worry yourself sick preparing. What breakfast would be best? Will they notice the maintenance issues if you try to cover them up? Should you try to dress nice? Maybe you should bake cookies so the place smells nice and you can give them some when they arrive to endear them to the place. You need people to keep coming here even when the training in the city gets back up and running and honestly so does the training place here, so you hope the old man running it does a bang up job.

The place is sparkling clean but nothing will ever make it tidy, it's too cluttered for tidy, full of a lifetime of knick-knacks and oddities. You try your best to make it all work, to lean into the cosiness of it. You can't afford to fix everything, but you do what you can.

You're not sure if you look silly in your nice outfit with your warm plate of cookies at the bar waiting for the group to come check in, but you plaster on a welcoming smile and fidget until you hear the door.

The man in the mask ignores you and instead points out a leak in the corner that you had done your damn best to cover. You think you might cry until the one in charge smiles at you and chucks your chin.

"What Ghost means to say is that he's pretty handy with roofing, has a little business back home for something to do when he's not deployed."

"Aye and he does work for bonnie things for free."

"Oh fuck, these are delicious."

The one who has just stuffed a cookie into his mouth gets smacked upside the head by what you assume is their commanding officer.

"Sorry luv, I swear they're house trained better than this."

Their course doesn't start until Monday and they've checked in on Saturday so you have the odd pleasure of spending a Sunday blustering around insisting as guests they should not be fixing up the place.

It's when they get back from their first day of training and are exhausted, irritated and looking to blow off some steam that things really get interesting :)

[babyleostuff]

hi! I was wondering if you would write an angst svt reaction about them saying something they didn’t mean in a fight but it just came out?

i decided to do this with the hhu, if you want me to do it with any of the other units let me know!

saying something they didn’t mean in a fight | hip hop unit

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ CHOI SEUNGCHEOL 

as a leo and a fire sing myself, i’m sure that cheol can be a bit impulsive and not think his actions through, especially if it���s during a fight where his emotions are all over the place. things would get heated really quickly with him, and he’d have a hard time holding his tongue. 

“shit, baby,” he reached for your hand, eyes wide and panicked. “don’t fucking call me that seungcheol,” you pulled your wrist out of his grasp, looking at him with an expression that made his heart shutter to million pieces. 

he knew the second the words left his mouth that he shouldn't have said them, but his brain was too slow to understand that, and the heat of the argument made him lose all of his common sense. “my precious baby, i’ve hurt them,” that would be the thought that’d run through his mind, as he tried to wrap his head around what he had just done. “just… leave me alone.”

and he’d do that. he’d give you as much time as you needed, but that wouldn’t mean he’d abandon you. cheol would make you your favourite ramyeon and place it at the nightstand next to your bed where you were resting, or he’d put his hoodie in the dryer you always wore after shower, so it’d be warm and cosy. 

and he’d take his pillow and blanket from your bed to sleep on the couch, so he wouldn’t make you uncomfortable, and so that you could rest peacefully. but then, after maybe an hour of tossing and turning, seungcheol would hear quiet footsteps, and a dog's paws running across the wooden floor, meaning you couldn’t sleep as well. 

you’d lay next to seungcheol, your back pressed against his warm chest, as his arms shyly sneaked around your waist to pull you even closer. “please, let’s never fight like that again,” you murmured, pulling one of cheol’s hands under your chin, nuzzling your nose against his palm.

 *ੈ✩‧₊˚ JEON WONWOO 

honestly, i have a hard time imagining wonwoo saying something he doesn’t mean. i feel like he always thinks before he talks, no matter what situation he’s in, and he strikes me as a person who is great at keeping his emotions at bay, contrary to cheol. he’d also have this thought at the back of his head that no fight is worth hurting you with his words. 

you looked at each other in confusion, as the words left wonwoo’s mouth. never in your whole relationship had he said anything like that, so you were taken aback more by the fact that he even said it more than that it was directed towards you. 

wonwoo nervously fixed his glasses, looking as lost as you. you could almost see his brain trying to understand what had just happened. “i’m sorry i… i didn’t mean what i just said,” he looked at you, eyes big and sad. 

you sighed, and grabbed his hand intertwining your fingers. “i know you didn’t mean it baby” you said, looking at his broken expression. “but you still said it.” his eyes got even wider, and he quickly cradled your face in his hands, running his thumb over your cheeks. 

“i know that no matter what i say won’t change what i did, but you have to know that no part of my mind and soul believes in what i said. that was just a stupid intrusive thought that i shouldn’t have said.” 

even though you said you forgave him, wonwoo was still very attentive to you for the rest of the evening - he had you on his lap for the whole time he was gaming, he made sure the sweatshirt you wore to bed was one of his best ones, and he cuddled you extra close to his chest that night.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ KIM MINGYU 

another fire sign, and as cheol (this might be an unpopular opinion?), might also have issues with controlling his emotions and words during heated arguments. like, i know he’s an amazing person with the best personality, etc. etc. BUT i see gyu as someone who is very defensive of his beliefs and point of views, and i think he can get quite stubborn, which can lead to him saying things he doesn’t really mean.

mingyu knew he shouldn’t have opened his mouth - both of you were consumed by your emotions and neither of you were thinking clearly. the only difference was that he let those emotions hurt you. 

“i didn’t… i don’t…,” he whispered, looking at your shattered expression. yeah, he couldn’t believe it either that those horrendous words left his mouth. you closed your eyes tightly, a single tear rolling down your cheek. the person who you trusted with your life broke your heart just like that, but you wouldn’t cry in front of him. he didn’t deserve a single tear after what he had done. 

you held your head high up as you turned around and started walking towards the door. “no, no please,” mingyu followed after you, catching up with you quickly. “don’t leave my love. hate me, yell at me, punch me, but don’t leave,” his eyebrows were furrowed and eyes glossy, and you knew that he was trying not to cry as well. 

“i’ll take the couch for tonight, but stay. i won’t let you walk out, it’s too dangerous.” 

he cradled your head in his hands, and pecked your forehead gently, before disappearing in the bedroom to take his pillow and an extra blanket.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ CHWE VERNON 

same with wonwoo, i don’t see vernon saying something he doesn’t mean. like, i don’t think his mind even works that way. for one - arguments with him are never heated, not because he doesn’t give a fuck, but his personality and mindset are so calm and collected in itself that neither of you even have a chance to raise your voices.

“i’m sorry,” he stared at his shoes, too scared to look at you. “i’ll leave you alone.” 

he quietly closed the front door behind him, leaving you alone in your apartment, confused and sad. vernon rarely got angry, especially at you, and you had never heard him raise his voice. you had a stupid fight that probably started over something stupid, but both of you were tired and irritated and you just snapped at each other.

but you didn’t mean for him to leave. 

later that night, when the sun had already set, vernon came back home as quietly as he left. “chwe hansol, where the fuck have you been?” you exclaimed, worried to death. You threw your arms around hiis neck, pulling him close to you. You shivered as he nuzzled his cold nose into your neck, placing a gentle kiss there. 

“you know i didn’t mean what i said, right?” he asked, pulling his face away from you. “of course, silly,” you smiled at him, caressing the back of his neck. “but never leave like that again, or i’ll kick you out myself.”

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @dkswife @marisblogg @whatsgyud @aaniag @jeonghansshitester @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic

[coneheads-deserved-a-noble-prize]

I AM SO TIRED OF PEOPLE ASSOCIATING ALASTOR WITH ONLY JAMBALAYA SO HERE ARE OTHER CREOLE DISHES YOU HEATHENS

Fanfiction and Comic creators, this is for you especially.

Crawfish Étouffée

This beautiful dish was invented in Breaux Bridge Louisiana, where our favourite radio star is from! Although it's invention is attributed the Herbet Hotel in the 1950s -after Alastors death- it is a classic.

Crawfish Étouffée has a sauce typically made from a blonde roux with that classic cajun seasoning. It contains the Holy Trinity of cajun cooking too: bell peppers, onions and celery. The main meat of this dish is crawfish tails and it is usually served with carbs like cornbread, cajun rice or vegetables such as green beans and potato salad.

It is chock full of flavour, and a filling inexpensive dish for low income families - which I believe Alastor is from.

Some alternatives to the crawfish are chicken and shrimp.

-----

The difference between Étouffée and Gumbo.

These two often get mixed up, and I understand, they're both classic Bayou dishes. Here's how to differentiate them.

Texture: Both dishes use shrimp, chicken, or crawfish tail broth. BUT Jumbo has a thicker consistency, it's made from a dark roux and it tends to use more liquid to remain stew-like.

Flavour: Gumbo and Étouffée both use Cajun seasoning, but due to Étouffées blonde roux, it has a lighter, sweeter taste than the darker, fullness of flavour in Gumbo.

Meat: Gumbo uses a variety of meats at the same time (often shrimp and sausage are key components), as mentioned in the alternatives above, Étouffée typically does not.

-----

2. Red Beans and Rice

We're on a roll guys! This is another dish from Louisiana! Although, it is specifically associated with New Orleans, where Alastor hosted his radio show. It has a fascinating history, partly due to it's African and French/Spanish routes - But it was also a struggle meal during the Great Depression. It was originally a Creole, not Cajun dish.

(Note: Red Beans and Kidney Beans are different legumes)

This dish also contains the Holy Trinity, as well as bay leaves, oregano, cayenne pepper, garlic powder and more. Its protein comes from Andouille sausages, but like Gumbo, a variety of meats are used. If you want Alastor to be traditional about it, he should make it on a Monday incorporating the left over ham bones from Sunday dinner. It is also complimented with long grain white rice and green beans, amongst many other things.

Considering Alastor witnessed the Stock Market Crash of 1929 -which led to the Great Depression - There is no way he hasn't come across this dish before.

3. Creole Bread Pudding

The queen of Creole Dessert has arrived. Can you guess where she's from? DING-DING-DING! That's right! New Orleans Louisiana baby! Recipes of this treat have been recorded since 1885, so it suffices to say she's a classic.

Like most bread puddings, it is made by combining stale bread (preferably French), beaten eggs and milk. However, this variation often has an incredible amount of vanilla extract. What it will be complimented with varies from person to person. Some examples are: Whipped meringue and whisky, raisins and apple, or walnuts and butter.

Although not as popular in the modern day, I like to imagine this is something Mimzy, Rosie and Alastor might share together on a day out.

-----

There you go! I hope you enjoyed this - but more importantly I hope this helps people create a more diverse version of those cosy Alastor cooking scenes that I love.

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Sixteen - Milo's Momma's Big Day Off

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.4K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

The cake was just a buffer between the two of them, something to interrupt their conversations. They'd both been too busy with the party, and too consumed by each other, to try any before this.

Slowly she migrated across the kitchen floor and sat beside Daniel. "You know, I think you might just be the best dad ever," she said as she laid her head on his shoulder.

Daniel immediately placed his hand onto her knee, and she welcomed the touch. "Trust me, it's guilt," he said. "I can't give her a normal childhood so I've made up for it in the only way I know how. I spoil the fuck out of her," he said.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "She adores you," she said as she played with the curls at the back of his head. "You're her everything and she loves you."

Daniel kissed the back of her hand as he set the cake to one side. "Thank you," he whispered, his eyes shutting as he let his head fall against her own.

They stayed like that for a good few minutes, just enjoying each others company. His touch was so warm against her, she never wanted to move.

But they couldn't fall asleep down there, she knew. "Come on," she said and tried to pull him up from the floor. Daniel resisted at first, pulled against her. But he wore a grin as he stood tall and took hold of her hand.

As they started out of the kitchen, Daniel kissed her hand. He pulled her upstairs and they quickly checked on the kids before heading to Daniels bedroom.

The bed would never not look huge to Y/N. She sat on the edge of the bed, feeling like a little mouse as Daniel went into the ensuite to brush his teeth.

He returned to the bed just moments late. Pulling back his covers he opened his arms wide and she crawled into them willingly. In this moment, she couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

"Uh, Danny?" She whispered as she felt his eyelashes against her neck. "The light is still on."

"Can we leave it on?" He asked and she nodded her head.

His hands settled on her stomach and she laced her fingers through his, the two of them quickly falling asleep.

It was rare Y/N got to sleep in. She relished in it, in laying in a warm cosy bed beside the most handsome man in the world. It didn't hit her that it was a Monday.

It didn't hit her that she was supposed to be heading to work.

"Momma, Momma!" Called Milo as he and Olivia came running into the bedroom.

Y/N and Daniel were already awake. His fingers lazily combed through her hair as she ran her fingers over his tattoos, tracing the lines.

When the kids came running in, they jumped away from each other. "What is it, Munchkin?" Y/N asked as Milo and Olivia sat between the adults.

"Are we spending today with Olivia and Mr Ricciardo?"

Y/N looked at Daniel. He looked at Y/N. "What do you say, wanna spend the day with us?"

"Of course I do," she answered and threw her blanket off.

They settled into something that felt like sweet domesticity. Daniel get the kids sat down with breakfast while Y/N jumped in the shower. She sang along to the music playing on her phone as she scrubbed her body.

It was incredible just how comfortable she was in his house. She was so fucking happy.

Daniel was in the next room, getting himself dressed for the day. He couldn't hide his grin as he listened to her sing. It didn't have to be good singing, but it was just knowing that she was settled in his home. Maybe one day it would be hers, too.

He stopped that train of thought before it went too far. They hadn't even been on their third date yet; he was getting ahead of himself, running before he could walk.

She stepped out of the shower, wrapped in nothing but a towel. "Uhm, Danny?" She called softly and he turned around but immediately covered his eyes. "Sorry, sorry, but I don't have anything to wear."

Still refusing to look at her in such a vulnerable state, Daniel grabbed her a shirt and a pair of his shorts. "I'll meet you downstairs," he said and left the room.

She got dressed quickly, and couldn't help but look into the mirror. His clothes. She was wearing his clothes. It had been almost six years since she felt this way about someone. She couldn't quite believe how happy she was. Surely something was going to go wrong.

"Momma!" Milo called as Y/N walked into the room.

"What's up, munchkin?" She asked as she sat on the sofa beside him.

Both kids snapped their attention towards Daniel. He tapped his hands against his thighs, slightly pulling up his shorts to show more of his tattoo.

Don't look, don't look, don't look.

"Well, the kids wanna go to the zoo and I said yes, if it's okay with you."

She couldn't help but smile. "I love the zoo."

***

They walked around, hand in hand, as the kids walked in front of them, going from enclosure to enclosure. "Summer break is coming up soon," said Daniel as he squeezed her hand.

"Does that mean Milo and I get to see more of you?" She asked as the kids ran over to the tiger enclosure.

Daniel stopped and turned her towards him. "Come stay in Monaco with Olivia and I," he said suddenly. "I have a place out there and one in LA. Livia and I are gonna head out there and I want you and Milo to come with us."

Everything was suddenly moving too fast and Y/N couldn't breathe. "Danny, I..." She wanted to, she really fucking wanted to, but they hadn't even been on their third date yet.

"You don't have to make the decision now," he said, giving her hand another squeeze. "Just something to think about."

The panic disappeared from her face as soon as he said it. "Thank you," she said, wearing a polite smile.

"Momma, look!" Milo suddenly called.

Y/N and Daniel walked over to the kids. They stood behind them and looked where Milo was pointing, at the tiger in the enclosure. It was pacing in front of them, walking along a concreate path that ran along the fence. "What's he doing, momma?" Asked Milo.

"Well, Munchkin," she began as she let go of Daniels hand and crouched down beside her son. "He wants to be free. He wants to run through the jungle and hunt for his food, but he can't."

"Why can't he, Miss L/N?" Olivia asked as she stepped closer.

Standing up, Y/N looked around. She found a rather large sign just in front of the enclosure and began reading off the information. "His name is Zafir and he is a Sumatran tiger. He was rescued as a cub and taken to the zoo when his habitat was destroyed," she read. "So, even though he is stuck in here, the zoo is doing all they can to make sure he is happy and healthy."

Daniel smiled at her as the kids started on towards the next enclosure. "You're wonderful," he said and reached for her hand once again.

This time, as they walked, Y/N pulled out her phone. This was the first time she had really looked at it, the first time she had taken note of the date. Of the fact that it was a Monday. "Shit," she suddenly squeaked, just quiet enough for the kids not to hear.

Daniel turned towards her. "What? What is it?" He asked, concern written on his face and evident in his voice.

She showed him her phone. "I've missed an entire day of work."

But the look of horror quickly left her face. She began laughing, and Daniel couldn't help but laugh with her.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lily-ann-b @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

[suzannahnatters]

PSA: Sieges Are Awesome

so I just watched ANOTHER TV show where the characters could have simply barricaded themselves inside a VERY cosy and defensible fortress instead of heading outside to get killed/maimed/captured by the baddies

I call this Television Abhors a Siege and it is EVERYWHERE and I hate it

I HATE IT

yes, I know the writers look at each other and say, well, if our characters retreat to their stronghold then how will we fulfill our Swords Go Clang quotient for this episode?

this is only because the writers lack both imagination and education

you see, I've been reading medieval military history in exhaustive detail now for 8 years and SIEGES ARE AWESOME, both tactically and dramatically!

tactically, sieges make sense, because there is no way to thwart an enemy and buy time like HIDING SAFELY BEHIND A STONE WALL. the only time you would not do this is when a) you have a realistic chance of pulling off a surprise attack (the TV characters are never smart enough to do this) AND b) there is no realistic hope of circumstances altering to favour you in the near future (the TV characters never consider this either).

also historically speaking, whenever people looked at each other and said "this siege has no realistic hope of success" they did not march out to throw themselves on the enemy's swords: they negotiated and usually with great success (the TV characters never consider this either). but let's say you're in one of the VAST MAJORITY of situations where a siege DOES make sense and only the most unhinged mental gymnastics would justify leaving your fortifications to fight (see: the majority of TV shows and movies that deal with this scenario)? does this mean that your characters must sit inside their walls twiddling their thumbs?

pfft don't be silly

sieges are totally dramatic!

it's not about LEAVING your fortifications to fight, it's about USING your fortifications to fight.

your baddies could try everything to get in and there might be fighting over a gate, a breach, or a tunnel/mine?

your characters might sally out under cover of night to destroy the enemy or their weapons?

one of your characters might escape the fortress in a desperate journey to find help?

your characters might turn out to have a traitor or saboteur in the group?

there might be injured people who need urgent attention, or supply shortages?

a FRICKING METEOR might fall out of the sky onto the heads of your enemies, sending them running and allowing you the opportunity to regain the initiative? (and if you think this couldn't possibly have happened, something very close to this literally happened at Antioch in 1098 during the First Crusade)

anyway this is just to say that I am begging you all to reconsider the dramatic potential of the noble siege. for one thing, it makes the characters look like total imbeciles if you ignore it. and for another, sieges are AWESOME. eta: I learned all this doing the study for WATCHERS OF OUTREMER, my historical fantasy epic of the medieval crusader states! Book 4, A CONSPIRACY OF PROPHETS, puts my own magical spin on the 1098 siege of Antioch ;)

[doodle-pops]

T’was The Night of Autumn

Celebrimbor x modern!reader

A/N: I realised that I don’t post many Celebrimbor content and that needs to change. So, here’s something to enjoy your cozy autumn.

Warnings: none, all fluff

Words: 1.9k

Synopsis: As autumn finally rolled in, you decided to teach Tyelpë a tradition from your modern world, one that involves pumpkins and crafting.

The autumn season had arrived in Eregion, and with it came a crispness in the air that whispered of change. The leaves on the trees had turned rich shades of gold and orange, carpeting the streets with their vibrant hues. The scent of the season, a mix of damp earth and woodsmoke, hung in the air, reminding you of home. It was the kind of day that made you miss the simple pleasures of your world—hot drinks, the sound of crunching leaves underfoot, and, of course, pumpkin carving. Despite being in Middle-earth, so far removed from the modern world you had come from, there was something about autumn that felt familiar—comforting, even.

Today, Celebrimbor had a rare moment of respite from his duties, and you had been thinking about how to make the most of it, wanting to share something from your world with him. After all, autumn wasn’t just about the changing of the leaves. It was about warmth, cosiness, and most of all, traditions. And there was one tradition in particular you were eager to introduce him to.

“Tyelpë,” you called softly, using his Quenya name. He glanced up from his book, his sharp, grey eyes softening when they met yours.

“Yes?” he responded, removing his focus from the book he was invested in.

“I think you’ve spent enough time reading and cooped up in the library for today,” you said, stepping into the room and crossing over to him. “It’s autumn, after all. There’s something I want to show you.”

His brow arched in curiosity. “What is it?”

Smiling, you took his hand and led him out of the library, into the courtyard. “Just trust me,” you said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s a tradition from my world. Something we do every year during this season.”

Curiosity piqued—Celebrimbor followed you out to the courtyard where two large, round pumpkins sat waiting. You had found it in the market earlier that day, marvelling at how similar it was to the ones from home. And now, as the golden light of the late afternoon bathed the scene in warmth, you felt a wave of nostalgia wash over you.

“What is that?” Celebrimbor asked, eyeing the pumpkin with a mix of amusement and confusion.

“It’s a pumpkin,” you replied, grinning up at him.

Sighing with a bit of sass, he rolled his eyes nonchalantly. “I know that it’s a pumpkin. But what I meant was the purpose of it.”

“Pumpkin carving!” you cheered.

“Pumpkin carving?” Celebrimbor’s voice was rich with curiosity and a hint of amusement, as he approached to two, medium-sized orange fruit sitting on the table.

“Yes!” you replied, turning to face him with your excitement growing by the second. “It’s something we do back in my world during this season. It’s part of a tradition called Halloween. We carve faces into pumpkins, light them up with candles, and make all sorts of fun autumn-themed treats. I thought it might be fun to try it together.”

Leaning closer to inspect the pumpkins while you spoke, he smiled from the sheer enthusiasm you expressed for the love of this festive seasonal tradition. “I’ve heard you mention this Halloween before,” he said thoughtfully. “A festival for warding off spirits and celebrating the harvest, correct?”

You nodded, grinning. “Exactly. But it’s also about having fun. You get to be creative, and it’s a great way to embrace the season.”

“It sounds…whimsical. Very different from the customs of our people,” he murmured under low. “But if it involves creativity, I imagine it’s not too different from sculpting or forging. But I must warn you, if this pumpkin carving involves skill, you might be at a disadvantage.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him, laughing. “Oh, come on, I’m not that bad. Besides, you’re the one who's never carved a pumpkin before. I might surprise you.”

Throwing an almost invisible competitive smirk at you, he chuckled. “We’ll see about that. But first, would you might showing me how it is performed?”

You handed him one of the knives, explaining how to cut the top off the pumpkin and scoop out the insides while he watched you closely as you demonstrated, his eyes intent on the task at hand. Once you were finished, he took his knife, his movements precise and steady as he made the first cut into his much larger and clearly better suited pumpkin, for carving.

“I have to admit,” he said, as he carefully removed the top of the pumpkin, “I’ve never worked with a medium like this before.”

You grinned as you passed him a spoon to scoop out the guts and seeds. “It’s a bit different from metal and stone, isn’t it?”

He nodded, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Quite different. Though I can’t say this is how I imagined spending my day—it’s strangely satisfying.” He took the spoon from you, his lips quirking with amusement as he began to dig into the pumpkin. His movements were careful and precise—of course, they were, he was Celebrimbor, grandson of Fëanor. His entire life had been spent mastering delicate and intricate work. And yet, the sight of him here, elbow-deep in pumpkin guts, was oddly endearing.

As he worked, you scooped out the seeds and pulp from inside your pumpkin, explaining how in your world, people often roasted the seeds as a snack. And Celebrimbor seemed fascinated by the simplicity of it all, so different from the more elaborate customs of Middle-earth.

“And now, here is where the true fun begins.” You were bouncing on your toes as you passed him a smaller carving knife. “Time for us to start carving the faces. You can make it as simple or as detailed as you like.”

Celebrimbor’s eyes gleamed with interest. “A face, you say? I think I can manage that.”

You handed him a smaller knife and explained how to cut out a simple face—triangular eyes, a jagged smile. You decided to keep it straightforward for now, not wanting to overwhelm him. But as you suspected, Celebrimbor was a natural. You watched in awe as his skilled hands moved swiftly, the knife gliding through the pumpkin with ease. Despite his initial unfamiliarity with the task, his natural talent shone through. Within minutes, he had carved an intricate, detailed face into the pumpkin, far more elaborate than anything you had ever managed.

“Well,” you said, standing back to admire his work, “I think it’s safe to say that you’ve won this round, which is unfair.”

He looked up at you, a teasing smile playing on his lips, one that was rarely seen at all—symbolising his comfort and enjoyment. “Won? Was this a competition?”

Nudging him playfully, you laughed. “Everything’s a competition with you, Tyelpë. But yes, I admit defeat. Your pumpkin is perfect.”

He tilted his head, studying the pumpkin with a critical eye. “I wouldn’t say perfect. There’s always room for improvement.”

“Perfectionist,” you muttered under your breath, earning another soft chuckle from him.

“Now it’s your turn,” he said, handing you the knife with a flourish. “Let’s see what you can do.”

As you took the knife, not missing an opportunity to roll your eyes good-naturedly, you warned him. “Alright, but don’t laugh. I’m not a master craftsman like you.” As you began carving, Celebrimbor watched you with quiet amusement. Every so often, he would offer a word of advice or point out a better way to approach the task, but for the most part, he let you work in peace. When you finished, your pumpkin was far simpler than his—a goofy, crooked smile and triangle eyes that reminded you of the ones you used to carve as a child.

“Well?” you asked, stepping back to examine your handiwork. “What do you think?”

“Um…” his voice trailed off as he angled his head differently to capture the image of the face you carved, not wanting to leave you under the impression that it could do with a few touch ups…and more—typical artesian behaviour. “Do you…I can help in some areas…”

Your brown immediately shut up to defeat your artistic work. “Oh, what now? Is it not as artistic as yours even though you offered advice?”

“Oh, no, no, no. It’s um…artistic indeed, but just need a bit of…enhancement,” he sheepishly said with his hands up in defence.

“Ha, ha,” you dryly laughed and morphed your face to match the one on your pumpkin. “You can fix it, but just this once.”

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon carving, laughing, and teasing each other about your respective pumpkins. Celebrimbor’s, of course, ended up looking like a work of art, while yours was more endearing in its imperfection. Still, you didn’t mind. The real joy came from sharing the experience with him—watching his face light up with each new detail, hearing the soft chuckles that escaped him when he struggled with a particularly tricky cut. It felt nice to see him stress-free since your arrival at Eregion. All your memories of him hunched over the anvil or some blueprint faded into mist upon his carefree laughter and smile.

You know such a simple act could appear that beautiful, nor did you understand why people labelled him as tempestuous and dangerous. He was quite the opposite.

As the sun began to set and the courtyard grew darker, you lit candles and placed them inside the pumpkins. The warm glow filled the small area, casting flickering shadows across the table, displaying your handiwork.

“I have to say,” Celebrimbor mused, “this Halloween tradition is rather pleasant. I can see why you enjoy it.”

You smiled, leaning into him as he bumped his arm into your shoulder. “It’s one of my favourites. And now you’ve got a pretty good handle on it, too.”

Turning to him with your heart swelling with emotion. “It means a lot to me, too,” you said softly. “Being here in Middle-earth, so far from everything I knew…it’s hard sometimes. But sharing things like this, it makes me feel like I’ve brought a little piece of home with me.”

Celebrimbor’s expression softened, his silver-grey eyes full of understanding. “I will always strive to make you feel at home here, no matter the distance between this world and yours.”

“Thank you, Tyelpë,” you whispered.

As the two of you stood there for a long moment, the flickering candlelight casting a soft glow over the room, you relaxed with the slight chill of the autumn breeze. You knew he wasn’t a person of many words, even though you had wiggled your way unexpectedly into his life, bringing minor changes, you understood through the silence that he reciprocated your thanks.

“Now,” Celebrimbor said, breaking the silence with a teasing smile, “you mentioned something about autumn-themed foods. I believe you owe me a taste of these seasonal treats from your world, and I hope they also involve drinks.”

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ve got just a few things in mind. But you might have to help me make it.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smile widening. “If it’s anything like the pumpkin carving, I think you’ll find I’m quite capable.”

“Confident, are we?” you teased, heading toward the kitchen. “Let’s see if that holds up when we start baking and brewing.”

Masterlist

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[bvidzsoo]

♡ ATEEZ as dads ♡

author: bvidzsoo

pairing: ot8 x reader

tw: none

word count: 3.3k

genre: established relationships, parents, blurbs/scenarios

rating: sfw

summary: have you ever tried envisioning Ateez as fathers? well, this is my take on the subject ^^ a collective of short and cute drabbles bellow the cut

a/n: hello, my lovelies, this was a cute little request and despite not taking requests (just wanted to clear that up), today is my birthday and I decided to make this my little gift for you all! ^^ also, anonie, I hope this is satisfying and close to how you imagined it to be! divider

🐿️Hongjoong

☆ Okay, so, despite all the boomer vibes I get from Hongjoong he'd still be the coolest dad, like?! All of your kid's friends would love him because he's just the type of father that not only shows up for his child but also like partakes in like absolutely everything?! Oh, you have an event at school where you have to bring one parent? Yup, Hongjoong is going (dressed to the nines, might I add, while also wearing something matching with his kid) and he's also going to be cheering you on loudly from the sidelines (to the point the other parents will be side-eyeing him, but that's fine, he doesn't care). And like, he's also the type of dad to sneak inside his kid's room when it's completely dark and then scare the living shit out of them as he starts making monster-like sounds, the kid is terrified okay, but soon they are giggling and wrestling, and the child will go to sleep rather fast because Hongjoong managed to wear them out. But Hongjoong is also the type of father who wants to capture everything so he always has his camera with him and he takes a lot of pictures, okay, and he also makes albums at the end of each year because his kid is growing and he doesn't want to miss even a second (are you sobbing? I would be if I had a dad like him).

☆ And Hongjoong is also the type of father to plan trips mostly in nature, where you can go on a hike and just forget about the ruckus in the city, where you can connect with nature and just be in the moment. He would definitely pick a colour scheme or one clothing item that would be matching for all the family members because it's cute and because he's infinitely proud and eager to show off his kid(s) and wife. He cracks jokes (even if they are your typical dad jokes), and he makes sure his kid(s) feel seen and heard. He tries not to pressure them and lets them explore the world while remaining a guide they can always rely on.

🐰Seonghwa

♡ Yup, trust this man to get up before his wife and child to make them breakfast and something to pack for later when they get hungry, he's that type of guy, yeah. We know he's soft-spoken, and I see him as the type of dad who is very patient with his kid(s) and who pays a lot of attention to them to make sure he truly understands them. I feel like Seonghwa would organize "chill nights" where you all cosy up on the couch and pick a movie (which is age-appropriate, obviously) and he lets you eat excessive popcorn because he knows his wife isn't keen on their kid(s) eating junk food.

♡ Also, I get the feeling that holidays would be big at the Park residence. Like, he'd make sure everything is perfect because he'd be also organizing big ass get-togethers where both sides of the family are coming over for lunch or dinner. And I think he'd also love Christmas because he could spoil his family without getting complaints or reprimands, so yeah, he'd make a big deal out of it each.time. He'd help cook and bake and clean, he'd probably do more of that, and he'd disappear for hours because he was looking for the perfect gifts (and trust that each person will get at least three items if not more). I also think Seonghwa would check on his kid(s) anytime he wakes up in the middle of the night, and he'd certainly tuck them in each time, pressing a kiss to their forehead(s). He'd be very gentle and soft and the kid(s) would grow up in a safe space where they'd know they can freely speak and express their likes and dislikes because their parents will be supportive no matter what.

🐶Yunho

❀ This man is a giant, we know that too well, so honestly, piggybacks and him letting his kid(s) sit on his shoulders while they are out and about would be routine at this point. Like, even if his kid wouldn't ask to be carried, Yunho would be sweeping them off their feet and letting them do whatever as he carried them around. I feel like he'd also quite often get cute aggression, so he'd definitely be tackling them (in a gentle and non-endangering way) to press a dozen kisses against their cheeks, and I think he'd also love tickling them because of their cute laughter! (I'm struggling rn, who's getting cute aggression now??) Anyways, I have a feeling that if his kid(s) somehow manages to hurt themselves (like they fall and scrape their knees or hands) Yunho would rush to their side and hold them and sweet talk to them with a pout on his lips and sad eyes, trying to lighten their mood while he tells them that everything will be okay.

❀ I feel like Yunho is the type to get emotional over, perhaps, non-trivial things that concern his kids. Their tooth fell out and the Toothfairy is coming? Yup, a tear is rolling down his cheek because "Omg, the kid is getting bigger!", also you know that thing where they make you stand against the wall (or edge of the door) to measure your height while you're still growing? Yeah, I feel like Yunho would have to take a walk around the house after measuring his kid's height in order to will the tears away because the kid is two centimetres taller than he was a month ago and he “can't do this, why are they growing so quickly?!” Yunho is definitely the type of father who wakes up his kid(s) in the morning by brushing their hair aside and whispering to them softly, coaxing them out of their sleep. He'd also be always smiling, his kid(s) wouldn't know what Yunho's serious face looks like because he'd never looked at them like that. He'd be cracking jokes and making his kid(s) laugh, but he'd also listen to them if they came to him for advice, and I feel like he's great at reading people's moods, so he'd know when to offer them space or annoy them until the kid(s) get fed up with him and give in to him wanting to kick a ball or something.

🦄Yeosang

 🜲 Well, let's be honest, with a dad like Yeosang, I feel like the kid(s) would be considered a little peculiar? But like in a very positive sense of the word because have you seen Yeosang's humour? Immaculate, dare I say, and his kid(s) have definitely inherited that from their dad. I feel like Yeosang is generally a calm and quiet person, but when it comes to his kid(s) he gets like hyper because he wants to do everything they ask him to, and he'll talk and talk until his kid(s) are pressing their tiny hands against his mouth to make him shut up. I think Yeosang would love to listen to his kid(s) stories, like "Yes, tell me all about your mate from kindergarten and his rescued grasshopper and also, what do you mean you ate a spider, child?! Spiders are not for eating!!" Yeah, I feel like Yeosang would forget his kid(s) at daycare at least once or twice (only at the beginning, I promise, like my dad forgot me there once: TMI). So what I was saying is, that because Yeosang loves hearing his kid(s)' stories, he will be reacting with grand gestures and everything and it will only amuse his child, because they'd get even more excited to tell him more about his day.

 🜲 Also, I feel like while his kid is a baby and can't speak, he'd blabber back to them and constantly poke their tummy "Because babies are so cute, I think I'm going to combust", and he'd definitely rush up to his wife with the baby in his arms to show off that they have reached new levels of communication, and it'd surprise his wife because the two are now blabbering to each other and the baby is laughing and Yeosang is grinning so wide his cheeks are hurting. I think Yeosang would love to take the baby out on walks as the sun is setting (assuming they are in Seoul) and watch the sunset as the sun disappears behind the Han River, and he'd definitely snap pictures with the baby where his face isn't fully showing just so that he can post it, and then he'd take selfies and send them to the family's group chat. I think Yeosang would be the type of father who never shuts up about their kid (even to his own parents) and tries to be the best father, super supportive and, not going to lie, he'd probably spoil them too because he wants to give them everything they want and need. He'd be always there for them, even if just from the sidelines, and if there were a contest for proudest father of the year, Yeosang would surely win it!

🐱San

❀ The most important question here is, who's the baby? Okay, I'm joking but San would definitely sleep facing the baby, eyes watery because he still cannot believe that's his child and that child is going to grow up by his side and he's created a tiny life that will turn into a grown person one day and he cannot stop it just go with the flow. So yes, San would be the emotional type of father, but not to the extent that it becomes uncomfortable lol. He has strong principals/morals so he'll definitely teach his child the views he has of the world and life itself, but he'd make sure to leave space for his kid(s)' own opinions and views, so that they can create their own believes while taking an example out of their father. We all know San's background, so I think he'd definitely sign up his kid(s) to Taekwondo or another similar sport, mostly because he wants them to know how to defend themselves, but also because it teaches them discipline.

❀ San's kid(s)' will be the politest and most well-behaved you'll ever see, I think they'd rarely cry and stick close to their parents because they know they are safe and comforting. San would have a close and good bond with his kid(s), he'd take them places and let them explore the world. Given that San loves amusement parks so much, I'm sure he'd make it a weekly program to take them there, trying out rides that were appropriate for their ages, laughing all day and eating whatever their tummies (and hearts) desired. I think San would only give his kid(s)' the best, so yes, they'll go to the best school, they'll only wear the best clothes, and they'll only eat healthy food (with exceptions, ofc, he's no tyrant to deny a good hamburger and fries), but he wouldn't spoil his kid(s) to the point they become brats. Also, I feel like San would love it if his children would be on good terms with his best friend's kids, so yup, expect a lot of get-togethers and trips with the two/three (or eight lmao) families, which would be a hustle to every outsider lol. So, all in all, San would be strict but so very loving, he'd do his best to raise his kids well-mannered and humble (just like him bfr) and he'd make sure that he was a strong pillar they could always lean on and count on. (why am I getting emotional too...?)

🐣Mingi

 🜲 *sigh*, where do I begin??? Bickering, lots of it, because "What do you mean you don't like mashed potatoes but you'll eat french fries?!!! They are the same, child, just eat it and stop whining!!" oh, and also, "What do you mean you want to go party, it's 11 pm and you're only seventeen?!" (if you've seen 10 Things I Hate About You, just picture the girls' dad when he makes Bianca wear that pregnancy vest before going out LMAO). So, yes, lots of nagging too, I guess, but it's actually well-intended and oh so loving!! Everyone thinks Mingi is intimidating (bfr besties) and I think his kid(s)' friends would be intimidated at first sight, but then Mingi invites them inside and goes to the kitchen to fetch them some snacks, and he accidentally knocks into the chair or table and he swears loudly and the kids start giggling because swearing is an adult thing still and it's funny, and then Mingi appears in the doorway and he's scowling, but he flushes when he realizes the kids heard him, so he tries to play it off but really, he looks like a clown so his child's friends instantly take a liking to him!

 🜲 You can't contradict me on this, but I feel like if his kid started crying over something, Mingi would stare at them blankly before starting to (fake) cry too and this often leads to 2 outcomes: 1. the kid stops crying and looks at him like Mingi's crazy (judgingly) & 2. the kid starts crying harder because they know Mingi is making fun of them, and it makes Mingi panic, so now he's cradling them to his chest and trying to shush them and calm them down, because "If the wife hears, we're both dead kid, got it???" I think Mingi would be his kid's best friend before being their father, if you get what I mean? Like, sure, he'll scold them and put them in their place if needed, but he'll totally gossip with them and bring them a sandwich just so he can lounge around in their room (because Mingi won't admit it, but the kid is getting bigger and he feels like he's running out of time and that's terrifying), and he'll tell them things that perhaps should've been better if he kept it to himself. I think he'd always be in front of his kid(s)' school (no matter the age) after classes to pick them up, and he'd definitely do carpool karaoke on their way home, only running one red light (excuse the man, he's excited or something). So yeah, Mingi would be caring and careful with his kid(s), attentive and there for them, but he'd show them that just because he's their father it doesn't mean they aren't equal (most of the time), and they don't have to hide anything from him, really. (Just maybe the fact that they didn't come home last night at the agreed-upon hour, oops~)

🦊Wooyoung

♡ Loud, both of them, loud. But it's fine, because if they are loud at least the wife knows they are enjoying themselves. Because when it becomes quiet, that's when you just know they are up to no good. Like that one time when you were working from home and their giggling and screeching stopped, prompting you to check up on them, only to find your kid(s)' hair drenched in some neon-pink colour which is, ofc, washable, your makeup strewn all over the floor because Wooyoung was feeling funny and decided to paint their faces (it looked terrible, but you said nothing). Also, menaces, both of them, to the point they'd wear matching Halloween costumes and freak out the whole street as they'd randomly start chasing both children and adults (they are either dressed as Chucky or Ghostface, there's no in-between). All of that put together, however, Wooyoung would be always by his kid(s)' side if he could, and he'd be teaching them everything about the world. He'd read to them a lot and he'd watch a lot of History and National Geography with them lol.

♡ And yes, we know Wooyoung is a very affectionate person and that he likes to show his love physically, so there would be a lot of kisses, cuddles, hugs and tickles. Wooyoung would love to carry his kid(s) in his arms while they were still that age, holding their small heads against his chest, pointing out things to them as he explained everything the baby was curious about. I feel like Wooyoung would also take the family to the seaside a lot, he'd love to go inside the sea and play around by splashing each other, accidentally getting swept up by a wave, making his kid(s) laugh as their father struggled to find his footing again. And I'm pretty sure Wooyoung would constantly feed his kid(s) while they were eating, putting more and more food in their plate despite it being almost full already, and no matter what age, Wooyoung will coo at his kid(s) because they will always be his babies! (*cue the sobbing*) And I am sure Wooyoung would be his kid(s) safe haven, someone whose arms are always wide open and ready to comfort or just to hold them, remind them that he's always there for them. Wooyoung would be the type of father to encourage his kids, always, teaching them that the world's opinion about them never mattered and never will, that they should always chase their own dreams and live a happy and fulfilled life. And, similar to Hongjoong, his camera's SD card would be filled with so many memories, ah…

🐻Jongho

☆ A complete jokester, sneaky and the type of father to first laugh when their kid falls before going over to pick them up. I feel like the kid wouldn't be able to tell if their father is their worst enemy or best friend at first, because Jongho isn't afraid to scrutinize them and judge them down to the bone, but the next second the man is sticking his tongue out and cracking a joke, and the child is confused because why can't their father just pick one mood for five minutes at least? I think Jongho would love to antagonize his children with dad jokes, he's aware they are terrible but seeing the look on his children's faces is always worth it. Imagine Jongho trolling his kids any chance he gets, as an excuse for preparing them for life (we all know he just likes playing with them), and he'd be tapping their shoulders and hiding behind a tree or something, and he'd run after them down the dark hallway, making scary noises, and he'd randomly open their doors and just stand there with a blank face until his kid(s) are either scared or screaming at him to get out.

☆ I don't know why, but, I have to mention cooking. I'm pretty sure he'd gather up the family at least thrice a week, and their evening would consist of picking a recipe and making it together while some sports plays on the TV and the parents are sipping on wine while the children can have orange juice or maybe chocolate milk. I also think he'd often buy his kid(s) flowers, no matter the gender because everyone deserves flowers, and he'd probably buy them chocolate too because (guess what?) he secretly eats them and blames it on his wife so the children don't pester him about the missing chocolate lol. I feel like Jongho would raise his kids to be smart and logical, always finding solutions and not fearing the unknown (I mean, if your father chases you down a dark corridor, who fears ghosts anymore, no??) and because he's a little sneaky shit, of course, his children will end up like him too ("it's okay to cheat when playing board games", would say Jongho but also whine for an hour if he found out one of the family member's did cheat, acting as if he didn't also). Jongho would be their best pall but also their role model, he'd raise his children to be outstanding and determined, unafraid to go after what they want. I know he'd support their hobbies and always encourage them to try out new things. He'd love quiet evenings where he can hear his kid(s) in their room(s) giggling and laughing about whatever, calling him to keep them company before it's time for bed. <3

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[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

Harry wants it known that he’s at the ministry’s Yule gala under duress. It was all he could do to force himself into his dress robes and make himself presentable; he can’t fathom where he’ll find the energy he needs to get through the rest of the evening.

People he barely knows keep coming up to him – as they always do – to shake his hand, chat with him about this and that, thank him for his role in defeating the dark lord. (Still. He really wishes they’d stop doing that. It’s been more than six years now.)

And then there are pockets of people, staring at him and whispering behind their hands. Another constant in his public appearances, though he imagines the content of their conversations is at least a little different from usual, if not the tone. 

He’s just escaped another fan and is looking to make a beeline for the bar when it happens. Harry sees his doom approaching from several metres away but, since they saw him first and he (stupidly) refuses to run away, he stands there like an idiot, wishing he were anywhere else.

“Hi Harry,” Ginny says. It looks like she wants to hug him or get close, and his shoulders stiffen involuntarily. Thankfully, she stays where she is.

“Hullo Ginny,” he replies and, without looking at the man, utters a terse, “Malfoy.”

The smug arse smirks at him. “Potter.”

“How’ve you been?” Ginny asks, which. Rude. If she actually cared about that, she wouldn’t have cheated on him with the git on her arm, but whatever. 

“Oh, fine. Y’know, keeping busy.” God, he hates small talk.

Before he can respond with the requisite, ‘And you?’, Malfoy jumps in. “Yes, I suppose you have been, from what I’ve heard.”

Ugh. Fucking Malfoy. Harry wishes he had a drink or seven. He can’t believe he’d rather be caught in another conversation with that weirdo from earlier about his wand-care habits, of all things.

Ginny gently elbows Malfoy in the side with a chiding, “Draco.”

He’s considering the merits of letting himself be ripped apart by the anti-apparition wards to get away from this conversation – splinching himself can’t be much more painful than this – when a hand bearing a very welcome drink appears in front of him. That’ll do for now, though splinching is still on the table. Especially when he follows the hand to the arm up to the face and of course it’s Ri– Tom.

Harry gives him the side-eye, but accepts the drink. “Thanks.”

Tom leans in slightly, just enough so the two in front of them can’t read his lips. “You looked like you might be in need of a rescue.”

And as he pulls back out of Harry’s personal space, he rests a hand low on Harry’s back. Harry tenses for a moment before just accepting that tonight is all about him being as uncomfortable as possible. He takes a gulp of his drink – something dark and spicy. It burns pleasantly.

When he starts paying attention again, he finds Ginny looking at Tom with surprise; Malfoy is looking at the other man with – is that a hint of fear? And Tom is staring them both down, but somehow managing to do it with a veneer of politeness. 

“Good evening, Draco,” he says pleasantly. “Ginevra.”

“Riddle.” Malfoy’s greeting is stiff, as is the awkward, aborted bow he gives. Hmm.

“And Harry,” Tom says, turning to look at him fondly. “So good to see you again.”

Hoo boy.

“You,” Harry murmurs from behind the rim of his drink. “Are not subtle.”

Tom takes the opportunity to slide his hand further around Harry’s back, lightly gripping his hip and pulling him closer up against Tom’s side. He returns Harry’s withering look with an undaunted smile. “I wasn’t trying to be.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that.”

“When did you two get so cosy?” Ginny cuts in. Her tone is playful, but there’s more than offhand curiosity lurking beneath.

“Uh.” Shite, he doesn’t ever want Ginny to find out how this started, but especially not in public. Who knows who’s listening in or watching. “We ran into each other by chance a month and a half ago” –actually, he’s how I found out you were fucking Malfoy behind my back– “and we’ve met up a few times since then. It’s nice to have someone… uninvolved to talk to.”

Tom looks amused at that. He’s definitely involved in the demise of Harry’s relationship, and if there’s one thing they haven’t been doing (but probably should), it’s talking.

“I’ve been helping him expand his horizons,” Tom says without apparent innuendo, yet somehow the layered meaning is still obvious. Prat. “Getting him to try new things, keeping him busy.”

“You and half the town,” Malfoy mutters under his breath.

“I see…” Ginny says over him. “Funny how that escaped the rumour mill.” 

Harry laughs awkwardly, wishing for a stray lightning bolt to strike and put him out of his misery. “Must not’ve been exciting enough.”

The conversation dies for long enough to become uncomfortable - well, even more so. Malfoy touches Ginny’s elbow and leans down to speak into her ear. Harry seizes their distraction to turn on Tom.

“Are you sure you don’t want to piss on me to mark your territory while you’re at it?” he asks dryly.

Tom wrinkles his nose delicately in disgust. “No need to be crude. Though…” He gives Harry a considering once-over. “I’m not at all opposed to the idea of you carrying my mark. How do you feel about tattoos?”

Harry snorts. “Not a chance.”

The other man tucks his face in close to Harry’s, breath hot against the skin beneath his ear. “What about bruises?”

As though he doesn’t regularly leave an abundance of those on Harry anyway, what with his penchant for treating Harry like a chew toy. Harry shivers all the same, just a little bit. He can feel the barest brush of Tom’s grin against his neck.

Ginny clears her throat pointedly.

“Good to know,” Tom breathes as he pulls back.

Ginny continues trying to talk to him while Malfoy makes the odd snide comment, Tom attempts to meld into Harry’s side while replying for him and being subtly insulting, and Harry tries to become one with the floor. He realises he’s missed a question when he breaks out of his daze to find both Tom and Ginny are watching him expectantly.

“Huh?”

Ginny starts to say something when Tom cuts her off. "Care to dance?"

If looks could kill, Tom would be in a bad way with how Ginny’s glaring at him. "Harry doesn't dance," she says tetchily. Tom doesn't bother with her, waiting for Harry's wary nod.

He looks back at Ginny smugly. "Perhaps yet another new thing to which I can introduce him.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Harry says, grabbing Tom’s wrist and dragging him towards the dance floor. Best to get this over with, and all the better if it means he doesn’t have to speak with anyone else in the meantime.

"She's not wrong," he mutters once they don't have to fear being overheard. "I don't dance.”

"Just follow my lead," Tom replies easily. “Would it be correct to say you don’t particularly care about stepping on my toes?”

Harry stares at him blankly for a moment before he feels a reluctant smile appear on his face. “It might be the one redeeming part of this.”

“The only one?” Tom says archly, pulling him into the correct hold. And, without giving Harry a chance to breathe or think, they’re off in what Harry thinks might be a waltz. 

"That was quite the risk you took," Harry says, trying not to stare at his feet and hoping for the best as Tom spins him around the room. He is, oddly enough, a much better dancer when he’s not constantly concerned about crushing someone's foot.

"Was it?"

"Yes. What made you think I wouldn't refuse and let you look foolish?"

He catches sight of a pleased grin on Tom's face from the corner of his eye. "The same thing that made me ask you to dance when I've seen your previous forays. You rise to the occasion when I push you.” He looks at Harry, for a moment, proudly. “I also knew you’d be more than amenable to anything that got you away from those two.”

Harry can’t deny that.

“Now look sharp, and do try to keep up,” Tom says, the hand at Harry’s lower back gripping him a little tighter.

“Wha–?” 

And it’s all he can do not to trip over his feet and take them both down in a painful sprawl, but the rush, the heady triumph of making it through the successive, intricate turns, goes straight to his head. Before he can stop himself, Harry lets out a loud peal of laughter, further disrupting the couples around them and drawing sneers and disapproving glances. And he just doesn’t care. Not that he thinks he normally would’ve, but it feels like it’s been ages since he’s felt so light and happy. So, he doesn’t think about the people around him. He doesn’t think about how it’s Tom who’s making him feel this way. He just basks in the sun-warm feeling of contentment – of being okay for the first time in a while.

(One night)

[the-fiction-witch]

Heat Of The Water P2

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Jacaerys Velaryon Couple - Jacaerys X Reader Reader - Y/n (Choose Your Own House) Rating - Smut Word Count - 2967

Part One

Jace was quickly down to his underclothes as he slowly approached her, his cheeks red with equal parts excitement and embarrassment. When he got close enough he kicked off the last of his underclothes and he slipped into the bath and the warmth of the water washed over him, the heat instantly relaxing the tension in his muscles. He sat down beside her, their hips touching in the water. His heart was pounding with anticipation, but he tried to stay calm and maintain a gentlemanly demeanour, though it was very difficult with her body so close to his. He leaned back to relax. Jace took a deep breath to steady himself as he leaned back, trying to control his thoughts and refrain from doing anything rash. He looked over at her and smiled, trying to appear relaxed as he glanced at the way her body moved in the water. A sudden thought occurred to him, and he turned his head to gaze back at her in thought. "I hope my presence isn't being too much of an inconvenience for you, my Lady," he murmured, feeling slightly embarrassed but also strangely aroused by the situation.

"not at all, in fact your presence is very much being enjoyed it's nice to have someone to share the warm cosy water with" she cooed "Of course if you are uncomfortable -"

Jace smiled, relieved at the reassurance, but his thoughts had gone elsewhere as his eyes drifted down her body, taking in every inch of her form. His thoughts were now filled with inappropriate fantasies of what he would like to do with her, as he imagined them sharing more than just warm water. He forced himself to look away and clear his head, not wanting to let on how much she had captivated him. “No, no not uncomfortable at all my lady,”

“I’m glad,” she smiled,

Jace tried to remind himself that he was supposed to be acting as a proper gentleman right now, not a lustful knight, but each passing moment of closeness with her was making it increasingly difficult to maintain his composure. As his cheeks flushed with heat, he couldn't help but imagine what she must look like underneath all that water. He cleared his throat, trying to change the topic. "I hope you won't think me a coward if I ask, but I find myself quite anxious now by this storm," he admitted, hoping she would engage in conversation.

"That's understandable, storms like this were so rare in king’s landing, dragon stone is a far stormier place, my prince"

Jace sighed in relief as the topic had been shifted away from his inappropriate thoughts for the time being. He was finding himself unable to control himself around this girl, and he was concerned he might do something rash if he remained in this bath for much longer. He cleared his throat, wanting to take the pressure off himself. "it's not quite what I'm used to, so I do admit the storm is more than a little unsettling."

"I'm sure in time you will learn not to be bothered by them, storms were endless at home of course I rather find them... Comforting" she said her hands slipping up to unpin her hair her hands in her hair the water just keeping her concealed until her hair fell into the water

Jace noticed the way her hands slipped up to unpin her hair, allowing her hair fall freely into the water. His heart began beating faster as he realized she no longer had a barrier protecting her from his sight. His eyes were drawn to her, following the movement of her hair as it fell, and noticing the way the water gently draped across her body. He was beginning to sweat slightly as she continued to expose herself, unable to stop gazing.

his eyes squarely on what she had revealed to him, unable to prevent the thoughts from returning as she washed her long hair, he was as he looked at her reminded that she is his betrothal. One day. He hoped soon. That body... Would be his plaything. His to toy with. His to touch and kiss. One day that would be the body under the gown of his queen. Those revealed breasts before him would one day be his to fondle and they would someday feed his children Jace's eyes were transficked by the sight of the water dripping down over her breasts, his hands trembling as he resisted the urge to reach out and touch them. The way her hair fell over her body, framing her features in a halo of wet curls was almost hypnotic. The thought of being able to see her this way and no one else thrilled him to no end. His thoughts swirled as he imagined their future together, of being able to lay with her and have her be his for the rest of their lives. His heart pounded heavily in his chest as he imagined this future.

"humm? Something the matter Jace?" She asked noticing his hands trembling under the water

Jacaerys shook himself out of his musings as he realized that she had spoken to him. "N-nothing, I was just... uh, lost in thought," he claimed, struggling to conceal the fact that he had been imagining things he shouldn't be. The sight of her in the water now had him feeling things he shouldn't be, and it was taking him all of his willpower to keep from touching her. He realized he probably looked ridiculous, trembling with desire as he tried to control himself.

she chuckled "All alright if you’re sure. You think perhaps I could ask you a favour?"

Jace was relieved to have the mood break for a moment, and that she had not pressed him on the matter. He nodded, intrigued by the favour she wished to ask of him. "Of course, you may ask me anything my Lady."

"you think I could be so lucky as to..." She asked playfully splashing the water at him "Invade your space a little?'

Jace laughed when she splashed the water at him, surprised by how forward she was being. Her playful manner was captivating, and he couldn't help but feel himself growing increasingly attracted to her with each passing second. He nodded again, his heart racing at the thought of her invading his space. "Yes you may, my Lady," he replied, smiling back at her.

she giggled and moved shifting in the water until she was sitting beside him she moved her legs over his and sat her head on his still mostly dry shoulder "is that alright?'

Jace found himself feeling very flustered as she moved to be seated so close to him, her body close enough to his that he could feel the warmth from her skin. His heart seemed to skip a beat as she moved her legs over his, his mind running a million different possibilities of what she might do next. His whole body felt like it was burning from the inside out, and he had to be careful not to do anything foolish. He smiled down at her again, this time trying to hide his discomfort. "It's... perfect."

"Are you sure? I don't want to cause you any trouble, Jace"

Jace was unable to look away from her, his eyes drinking in every inch of her as she sat so close to him. He was beginning to feel overwhelmed by the whole situation, but he refused to let his nerves get the best of him. He smiled again, hoping to hide his discomfort and play along with her. "You're fine, my Lady, in fact I couldn't imagine something more wonderful. Just.. being close to you is... comforting."

"I'm glad then my sweet boy" she cooed giving his cheek a kiss and happily cuddling up to him

Jace felt himself tense up at the touch, his stomach knotting with butterflies as she kissed his cheek and cuddled up to him. Her affection for him felt almost suffocating in this small enclosed space, but he couldn't deny how good it made him feel. He was feeling so many emotions all at once, but he was unable to pull away from her embrace. He leaned into her touch, his own arms wrapping around her waist.

she giggled as he wrapped his arms around her waist she smiled and gave his jaw a few kisses nibbling up to his ear "I'm not going to be angry with you Jace. If your hands... Happen to find their way on small underwater adventures I shall not hold you to them." She whispered

Jace found himself panting slightly as she kissed his jaw and nibbled his ear, his mind and body racing with thoughts and feelings. He felt like he was about explode with desire, and he knew he couldn't stop himself from exploring. His hands began to wander through the water, slowly but purposefully approaching her chest, which seemed so inviting in this new position. And he heard exactly what she whispered to him, encouraging him to give in to his urges. He couldn't fight it anymore, and his fingers began to explore.

Jace's heart raced as his hands began to explore her body, moving slowly and cautiously at first but starting to move faster as he was unable to hold back anymore. By this point, his imagination was running wild with thoughts of what he might do to her. He couldn't help but imagine the feel and bounce of her soft breasts beneath his touch, and the way he could bring her such pleasure. He stroked his hands over her, across her thighs, her hips, her waist, settling his attention on her breasts fondling them and groping them in his hands, 

she giggled and blushed squirming when he plaid with her breasts she clearly really enjoyed it her breathing hitching and letting out small moans into his ear, 

Jace could feel her body squirming and twitching as she was clearly enjoying his touch. He couldn't help but feel a wave of pleasure wash over him with each of her moans. He had been wanting to touch her like this for so long, and now that he was finally able to, his excitement was growing with every passing second. His fingers seemed to move of their own accord, exploring the hidden depths, moving in rhythm with their breathing. His fingers continued exploring deeper and deeper under the water, growing more brazen with each touch. Jace continued to explore, his hands growing more daring and confident with each touch. The feeling of her body under his hands was intoxicating, and he was unable to stop himself from enjoying this moment to the fullest. The way she squirmed and moaned was driving him to a fever pitch of excitement, and he couldn't help but imagine taking this to the next step he rubbed her mound softly a few times before he pushed his fingers inside her,

"Ahhh Jace!" her hips raise uncontrollably. He pushed his fingers deeper, wanting to feel her even more. she squealed as he moved his fingers deeper and faster, she gripped his shoulders and kissed his throat over and over to conceal her sounds moans and groans of pleasure the likes of which he had never heard anyone make before pressing her body against his completed

Jace grunted softly as his heart slammed deep inside his chest, the feeling of her body moving against his sending waves of pleasure through him. He could feel her breath on his neck as she kissed him repeatedly, covering the sounds of those delightful sounds she was making. He could feel his body beginning to tremble, but he tried to hold on longer. His fingers began moving even more rapidly inside her, his mind drowning in the images of making her his in this very moment.

she screamed and squealed in joy, gripping his shoulders tight her chest against his own the water splashing slightly around them as his hand moved and her body contorted she kissed and bites his neck her head thrown back unable to even attempt resistance "Jace... Jace... Oh Jacaerys.. darling"

Jace felt overwhelmed by the intense feeling of pleasure coursing through every inch of his body. His heart was beating so hard that he felt like he could hear it in his throat, each beat matching the movement of his hands inside her. The way she cried out in pleasure was music to his ears, each time she did driving him to a higher level of ecstasy. Her grip on his shoulders was tight, but he held no doubt that she would not stop his from going further. The feel of her body pressing up against his just made him want to explore even deeper.

Jace continued to explore her, feeling her body spasm and convulse with each touch. The feeling was beyond anything he had ever felt before, and he was completely overwhelmed by the sensation. He leaned down to kiss her neck as his hands grew more bold, moving deep inside of her and causing her to respond with more cries of pleasure. He felt like he could hardly catch his breath between his own excited breaths and her ecstatic moans of delight.

Jace couldn't believe the things he was doing, but he couldn't find the will or any need to stop. He was completely consumed by the moment and his desires, every stroke more thrilling than the last. His mouth was locked around a spot on her neck, giving her soft kisses that were interrupted only by his own quick puffs of breath. His hands were moving relentlessly inside her, growing faster and deeper with each movement, desperate to find the source of this incredible feeling.

"Jace... Please... please..." She gasped tears in her eyes as she begged him to keep this pace this sensation this was clearly not long before he would be able to do what do many men had told him was impossible to make a lady do,

Jace didn't have to be asked twice. He couldn't help himself from pushing her further and he heard her begging and moaning in response. His hands inside her continued growing evermore frantic, his fingers moving faster with every passing second. He found himself wanting to keep pressing his fingers deeper into her until...

Y/n grabbed his face and kissed his lips with a fiery hot passion the heat of dragon flame almost her body squirmed and contorted as her hips jolt uncontrollably towards his hand she moans into the kiss her whole body relaxing as she collapsed against his chest her head falling there as she gasps desperately for breath

Jace felt her kisses and the overwhelming sensation of her body moving against him, her hips jerking uncontrollably in response to his touch. He felt the heat of the moment as she kissed him back, her breath coming in labored breaths as she sank back against his chest. He couldn't help but smile, his shoulders still held tightly by her hands. As she gasped for breath, he looked down at her body, feeling the after effects of her overwhelming sensation within her. He was utterly amazed and pleased with what he had just accomplished.

Jace watched as she caught her breath, her breathing slowly returning to normal as she recovered from her own sensation. He had never seen such a thing in his life, and it was all the more incredible to know that he had brought such a thing to her. The way she lay there on him was incredibly endearing, and he couldn't help but feel himself becoming possessive of her and her body. He began gently stroking her hair, wanting to comfort her after what she had just experienced.

she struggled for breath for a while unable to move her body hot to the touch, but she slowly relaxed Into his comfort kissing all over his face and neck with kisses as her only sound was her moaning his name with a pleasant voice

Jace found it adorable when she was at her most vulnerable, her eyes closed and her words reduced to little more than moans. He felt a slight amount of pride in being able to bring her such pleasure, and her affection felt so... intimate in its own way. He loved the way she kissed him affectionately, and he even found himself smiling as she did so. He was still stroking through her hair, comforting her and enjoying her warmth beside him.

Jace was enjoying just being there, enjoying the closeness and comfort of this intimate moment between the two of them. He didn't know what he felt for her, but there was no denying the powerful attraction he felt for her. The way she kissed him tenderly, and the feel of her body pressed against his, was almost too much for him to handle. He continued to stroke her hair, not wishing to move for fear of breaking the spell.

"oohh... Jace I... I... I have to admit... I am even more looking forward to our marriage now"

Jace was taken aback by her admission, his mouth opening slightly in his surprise. It was a bold thing for her to say, but he was glad to know that she felt the same as he did. He smiled at her, not entirely sure how to respond. He was feeling incredibly affectionate toward her now, and he wanted to show her that he felt the same way.

"So am I, my sweet," he softly replied, gently squeezing her against himself.

Jace was elated to hear her talk of this in the moment. The thought of marrying her and being allowed to explore her body in this way on a regular basis excited him beyond belief. He continued to stroke her hair, and his eyes drifted down towards her neck and bare upper body, unable to ignore the view of the woman in his arms.

[wolfhoundwitch]

VISUALISATION, CONTINUED.

A continuation from lessons in visualisation.

In this lesson, we will explore further techniques, how to maintain regular practice, and alternatives for visualisation for those who might find it harder than others.

Alternatives to visualising

Some people will struggle to visualise, whether that is because of their mental or physical health, an inability to sit still or to focus, or they cannot picture an image in their mind.

It is important to remember that we have other senses. Visualisation doesn't rely on sight alone, and though it may sound that way, it instead makes the basics of spellcasting and meditation inaccessible.

☆ Forget trying to picture things, that's not the be-all end-all. Try to feel things. To smell and hear and taste, to love and hate. Consider raindrops falling on every inch of your body, moving slowly from your head down to your toes; let the water cleanse you as it rolls off your skin. Even if you cannot see them, your body knows the sensation and the smell of rain on your body.

☆ If any type of sensory imagination is too hard, play music in the background instead. It doesn't have to be calming music in particular, just something you can enjoy and zone out to. (I have been known to meditate and even nap to breakcore). Let the rest of the world fade away as you absorb the music fully, listening to every note individually and as part of the whole. Alternatively, you can try counting. Just start counting, out loud or in your head, up from 1 or down from 1000, and let that be the only thing your mind focuses on - the steady rhythm of the numbers.

☆ Consider using white, brown, pink or green noise to help you focus too. White noise doesn't sound good to everyone, and the various types use different frequencies which can be soothing for some.

The whole idea is to move away from the focus of seeing things in your head, while still allowing you to build up energy when concentrating on an end goal like meditation or a spell.

How do I practice regularly?

Methods of visualisation can very easily be simplified to make them faster and easier for regular practice.

☆ You could try seeing or feeling the energy around you or around an object such as a crystal or a tree, or the energy moving through your body.

☆ Try closing your eyes when it’s sunny and recalling the feeling, smell and sound of rain. Or the other way around. Feel the warm sun on you in the winter, or a cosy fire in your hands.

A good idea is to practice during meditation as often as you can. Remember, being able to visualise in some form is incredibly useful for energy manipulation. (Including but not limited to shielding, centering, grounding, manifestation and wider spellwork).

As always, thank you for reading. Please drop a message/ask if you want to see anything particular in future lessons.

[finniestoncrane]

Since I'm being Riddler this year for Halloween it made me think uhhhhh how would the Riddlers react to reader wearing their outfit? Also love your writing btw Finnie :>💚

Wearing Their Outfit

Riddler Headcanons AH thank you lil bug!! and a happy halloween everyone but especially everyone who is dressing up as the riddler in one capacity or another 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: some suggestive stuff, nothing explicit i don't... think

arkham

regardless of which outfit you steal from him, the suit, the sweater vest, or the ratty vest and shirt combo he's gonna be annoyed. quite annoyed actually

you're sullying them! you don't deserve to wear them! what if people mistake you for him? he can't have that kind of damage to his reputation

so you better remove them, right now. and he doesn't care if you're then left naked and embarrassed, that's your problem. and it'll serve nice as an apology to him to get to see you in that state

zero year

he gets what you were going for, imitation is after all the greatest form of flattery and he can't deny that he deserves all the compliments in the world

but this is the wrwong way to please him, because here you are putting on more clothes, when he would rather you remove all clothes

the hat, however... that can stay on actually. you might have to hold on to it though, because he can't guarantee he'll be gentle with you

unburied

one of the very few times he has ever felt genuine adoration for you outside of his dry, sarcastic way of showing affection was when you borrowed his sweater

the one barbara gave him to wear, stained with his blood, torn and ripped and damaged, but a comfort item for him

and to see you all cosy and wrapped up in it, he can't help but consider that you might even be cuter than he is. but only just!

btas

that hat suits you but his shirt is a little big. doesn't matter though, because for first time in his life he's confused! he doesn't really know what to do

first of all, it seems to strange that something can be cute and sexy at the same time? you can't make his heart skip a beat and his cock hard at the same time, surely?

well, if anyone can, it's you. but that begs the question: what does he do next? smoosh your cheeks together? or... bend you over and clap the other set of cheeks?

dano

he'd lose his god damn mind, regardless of what you have underneath that coat, because his imagination is already running wild

just think how delightful it would be to peel back that mask while he was inside of you, revealing your face in pure ecstacy

even better if you were splattered in the blood of his enemies, but hey he's not going to be picky. the jacket and the boots are plenty

twojar

oh fuck yeah, because here's the thing about that outfit: the shirt isn't unbuttoned, it just doesn't have buttons

which means if you're wearing it he's getting a solid look at your chest, always a positive for him because getting to see any part of your body makes his day

but it proves a bit distracting for him while he's working on his overthrow of joker, so contrary to his desires, you might need to cover up

gotham

can we stay with sweet eddie? season 1 eddie? losing his mind over walking in on you in one of the labs wearing his lab coat, some rubber gloves, and his spare glasses?

the blushing, the flustered stuttering as he tries to ask what you're doing, knowing full well exactly what your intentions are but still finding it hard to believe

because how could this possibly be real? since this is exactly the same thing he dreamed about the ight before. and the night before that. and the night before that. and the night...

[telleroftime]

I think I covered Vampire!Sukuna that's forced to respect the innate rules of a vampire before -- such as the one where they must be invited into ones home -- but I just had a few more ideas regarding it.

Well, in this case it would also be Fae!Reader, which is once again a pairing I'm pretty sure I mentioned before. Anyways, yes! Vampire!Sukuna that camps outside of Fae!Reader's bungalow. That or human!Reader that grew up with the fae and is much more aware of how the forest works than the mighty and evil Sukuna. Featuring Uraume in certain places.

When the Reader first notices Sukuna they aren't too worried. He may be a vampire now but he was born a human mortal so they know that the same tricks would work on him too. They set up precautions and change their presence around their territory. Namely a lot more fairy rings appear in key locations. The mythology surrounding fairy rings states that if humans dance on them they would be punished by the fairies and made to dance in the ring until they pass out. Reader knows that and very quickly shuts down Sukuna's game of cat and mouse by tricking him into walking on one.

And they would proceed to exploit such tricks. Not only the natural rules of fae but also the bodily limitations of a vampire. They'd be cosied up in their little cottage at night knowing well that Sukuna cannot enter without an invitation, and during the day they would traverse through patches of light whilst grinning in the directions of the shadows.

You'd think that Sukuna could use Uraume's human nature to get to Reader but that wouldn't work either. If the fae don't want to be found by a human then the human will never find them.

Now, the Reader wouldn't be too interested in tricking Sukuna into something much more malicious than simple tricks, especially not after growing familiar with his vampiric presence, so one way or another they would need to stop him from accidentally falling into a fae-bound deal. By that I mean they would have to interrupt him and Uraume whenever it sounded like they were about to say "thank you." Sukuna would never but Uraume might. Same with apologies.

I love the idea of Uraume thinking that Reader is simply being humble when they say "don't thank me" and "don't apologise to me" when in reality Reader is getting a headache from controlling the impulse to form a contract with them.

I also love the visual of Reader slapping a hand around Uraume's mouth when they are about to thank another fae.

When it comes to names, the first time Sukuna introduces himself to Reader they instantly know that's not his real name. Names hold power especially in the hands of the fae, though since it also wasn't a lie they wouldn't press him about it. Uraume on the other hand makes the mistake of handing them their name which to Reader means there's on less threat. A human whose name is revealed is of no power in the eyes of the forest.

And speaking of lies, Reader would be able to catch Sukuna out on every like he speaks. Not like he himself would lie (seeing as he never seemed to lie in the anime). Uraume too. But if he ever did Reader would know... Though that aspect of fae nature would easily backfire on the Reader since they themself wouldn't be able to speak a lie. Only finely chosen words. So you know, plot.

And since I spoke more about Fae!Reader...

The fae are weak to iron so Reader would avoid any metals and alloys containing it. It'd leave them using pure silver which Sukuna, as a vampire, would be weak to. He would stay away from silver alloys and would instead opt for, you guessed it, iron. His weapons would be made of iron.

Imagine Sukuna making fun of Reader's weakness to iron so they just throw a silver fork at him, or better yet some random log as they comment how a "wooden stake" could finish him off.

Outside of vampires being unable to enter a home without first being invited, another thing vampires cannot do is cross running water. So, imagine finally Sukuna gets to chase the Reader. Finally everything is in line for him to drink their blood. It's the middle of the night and the Reader is far away from the nearest fairy ring and he's about to grasp them... when they suddenly cross a river and Sukuna is stranded on the opposite side to them. He'd be so unhappy.

And yeah. I think that's it for now.

[doormatty3]

Blizzards and Beef Stew - Chapter 6 (Patrick Wilson x FOC)

Masterlist Ao3

Blizzards and Beef Stew Masterlink

Summary

[Patrick Wilson x Original Female Character] [Patrick Wilson x Original Character] Éléanor had always adored winter: its snow, its crisp air. But what she treasured most was retreating to her cosy cabin in the Swedish mountains. There, she could bake, sketch, and enjoy the solitude, far from the noise of the world. At least, that’s how it used to be—until a new neighbour arrived. Patrick Wilson was tall, charming, and with a smile that seemed to melt the coldest days. As they struck up a friendship, Éléanor found herself drawn to him, even though he remained oddly secretive about his last name and evasive about his work. But when a fierce snowstorm trapped them both, it became clear that Patrick might just be the warmth she needed in more ways than one. OR: Patrick uses his body to warm up Éléanor in the snowy mountains.

Wordcount: 5581

Éléanor woke up slowly, the soft light of morning filtering through the windows, casting a gentle glow across the room. She blinked, momentarily disoriented, before remembering where she was—Patrick’s couch, wrapped up in his blankets, the memory of last night still fresh in her mind. A mix of emotions stirred within her: contentment from the quiet intimacy they’d shared, a hint of embarrassment from how things had played out, and something deeper that left her feeling warm and a little vulnerable.

The storm still raged outside, the wind howling softly, but it wasn’t as brutal as the night before. Snow had piled up high around the cabin, turning the world outside into a quiet, white wilderness. Éléanor’s gaze drifted to the couch beside her, where Patrick still slept, his broad chest rising and falling with each breath.

For a moment, she let herself look at him—really look. 

His shirtless body was sprawled comfortably under the blanket, and her eyes traced the lines of his muscles, now highlighted by the morning light creeping through the window. His chest was broader than she’d really noticed before, the pale skin dusted with a light covering of chest hair, something she hadn’t noticed in the dark last night. It curled softly, catching the flicker of firelight, giving him a rugged, masculine edge that made her pulse quicken.

His face was relaxed and peaceful, a stark contrast to the tension he’d carried last night. His lips were slightly parted, and his dark lashes cast faint shadows against his skin. Watching him like this, she felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the blankets or the fire.

His stubble had grown more noticeable, the coarse hairs along his jawline now thicker, and a shadow of a moustache was forming, giving him an almost roguish appearance. Flecks of grey dotted his sideburns, and as the light hit his face, it gave him a certain maturity that contrasted with his boyish grin. 

She found it hard to tear her eyes away—so she didn’t.

Her eyes trailed down his body, taking in his flat, defined stomach and the curve of his hips. His boxers clung to him, riding low on his waist, leaving little to the imagination. The blanket had slipped just enough to reveal the curve of his muscular thighs, and Éléanor’s face flushed as she caught herself staring.

God, he was so attractive.

With a deep breath, she slipped out from under the covers, careful not to disturb him. 

The wooden floor was cold under her feet as she padded towards the small kitchen, grabbing his sweater that lay discarded on the floor and pulling it over her head. 

She wanted to keep busy, to distract herself from the tangle of emotions still swirling inside her. Pulling Patrick’s pullover tighter around her, she began to rummage through what little they had left, trying to piece together some kind of breakfast. Eggs, a few slices of bread, some cheese—it wasn’t much, but it would do.

As she stood by the counter, cracking the eggs into a bowl and slicing up the bread, her thoughts drifted back to the events of the night before. The way Patrick had panicked, the way they’d calmed each other down afterwards, cuddling in the firelight. She couldn’t help but feel grateful for the way they’d handled it. It could have been awkward—embarrassing even—but instead, it had made her feel closer to him in a way she hadn’t expected.

As she mixed the eggs in a bowl, trying to figure out how to cook it without a stove, she heard a soft shuffle behind her. Before she could turn around, Patrick’s arms slid around her waist, pulling her gently back against his chest.

She melted into him, feeling the solid warmth of his body pressing against her back. His chest hair brushed against the back of her neck as he leaned down, his chin resting on her head and his breath against her.

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep, vibrating against her skin. The sound sent a shiver down her spine.

Éléanor smiled, leaning back into him, enjoying the easy warmth between them. “Morning,” she replied softly, turning her head slightly to glance at him. His eyes were still heavy-lidded, his hair tousled from sleep, but there was a soft smile playing at his lips.

He tightened his arms around her just slightly, pulling her closer. “What are you doing?” he asked and stifled a yawn.

“Trying to make breakfast with what little we have,” she said with a soft laugh. “But the stove doesn’t work, and I have no idea how to cook this without it.”

Patrick chuckled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her shoulder, his touch warm and reassuring. “We’ll figure something out.” His gaze dropped to the bowl in her hands and then flicked back up with a crooked smile. “Or, we could just stick to bread and cheese. A low-maintenance breakfast.”

Éléanor laughed, the sound light and easy, and she felt the tension from the previous night fully dissolve. She caught herself blushing slightly, a bit embarrassed she hadn’t thought of that simple solution first. The eggs were wasted now, a casualty of their morning scramble, but she found she didn’t really mind.

“Honestly, that’s probably the best idea I’ve heard all morning,” she admitted, glancing over at the loaf of crusty bread and the wedge of cheese sitting on the counter. The simplicity of it, the way the fire crackled in the background, made her feel at ease. She let out a small sigh, comforted by the idea that life didn’t have to be perfect to be good.

Patrick’s smile widened, the corners of his eyes crinkling with warmth. “See? It’s the small things,” he said, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. The gesture was so natural, so effortlessly caring, that it sent a tiny flutter through her chest.

She set the bowl down on the counter, the broken eggs an afterthought now, and reached for a knife to slice into the cheese. “Next time, I’m sticking to the basics,” she joked, her voice touched with a playful self-mockery and lingering embarrassment.

Patrick’s deep, warm laugh filled the small kitchen, wrapping around her like a favourite blanket. “No need to overthink it,” he said, his eyes finding hers, their familiar sparkle comforting. “It’s not really about the eggs or anything. It’s about mornings like this.”

A soft pause settled between them, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the occasional pop of a burning log. His gaze drifted down, a playful smirk forming as he tilted his head. “You’re wearing my sweater,” he remarked, his voice low and teasing. The brush of his lips against the side of her neck caused her skin to erupt in goosebumps.

Éléanor felt the warmth rise in her cheeks, and she couldn’t help but grin as she turned just enough to catch his eyes. “You didn’t exactly leave me much choice,” she shot back, the humour in her voice softening the air between them. “You were hogging all the blankets.”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her skin as he nuzzled closer. “Fair enough,” he admitted, his breath warm and unwavering. The nearness was intoxicating, a blend of comfort and tension that made her pulse quicken.

For a moment, they simply stood there, wrapped in the golden glow of the morning sun filtering through the window. His hands rested gently on her waist, and fingers splayed as if to anchor them both at that moment. She could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest against her back. It was an odd mix of domesticity and heat, standing there in his oversized pullover while he held her, both of them pretending that the night before hadn’t changed everything.

Reluctantly, Patrick let his arms fall, stepping away with a small sigh as he moved towards the table where he stretched, his body unfolding in a way that drew her eyes once more. His boxers clung to him, highlighting the sculpted muscles of his thighs and the curve of his back in a way that had her biting her lip. She couldn’t help but notice the way they fit snugly over his ass—tight, firm, and perfectly shaped.

His back muscles rippled as he reached for the ceiling, the light catching on the ridges of his shoulders and the faint sheen of sweat that lingered from the warmth of the room.

Éléanor’s pulse quickened as she watched him, a smile tugging at her lips before she turned to grab the simple breakfast supplies. Patrick brought the bread and cheese from the counter and placed them on the small, weathered table. She followed, carrying two mismatched mugs of instant coffee—more than enough given the circumstances of the power outage.

Patrick leaned over to stoke the fire, the crackle growing stronger as new flames licked at the logs. The warm glow cast long, shifting shadows that danced across the cabin walls, contrasting with the cold, pearly light outside. Snowflakes continued to drift steadily down, adding to the thick blanket that muted all sound beyond the walls.

They settled into the nook beside the fire, knees touching beneath the table, sharing the kind of comfortable silence that spoke more than words could. The flickering light played on their faces, illuminating the curve of Patrick’s smile as he passed her a piece of bread. Their fingers brushed, and a warm spark passed between them.

“So... the storm’s still going,” Patrick finally said, glancing out the window, his eyes following the swirling snow that danced in chaotic patterns against the glass—a sea of white that refused to calm. “Looks like it’s not letting up anytime soon,” he said, his voice low and thoughtful.

“Could be worse,” Éléanor said with a teasing grin, her tone light, though her heart beat just a little faster. “We have food, warmth... and decent company.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow, a smirk curving his lips in response. “Decent? That’s all I get?”

“Well,” she said, the blush rising to her cheeks as she held his gaze, her pulse fluttering under his scrutiny. “I didn’t want to inflate your ego too much.”

He laughed softly, the sound low and rich, the kind that made her stomach flip. Leaning back in his chair, he looked relaxed, but there was an unmistakable spark in his eyes, a playful warmth that drew her in. “More than decent,” he corrected, his voice dipping into a tone that was both teasing and sincere.

Éléanor took another sip of coffee, cradling the warm mug in her hands as she glanced out the window at the snow piling higher in an attempt to stop the fluttering in her chest. “You know … This is probably the most basic breakfast I’ve made in years,” Éléanor said, smiling over the rim of her mug as she took a sip of coffee.

Patrick’s eyes didn’t leave her. “Hey, it’s perfect,” he said, the simplicity of the moment not lost on him. “We’ve got everything we need right here.”

The fire’s warmth settled around them, casting a golden glow that made the cabin feel cocooned from the storm. The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable; it was heavy with unsaid things, a shared realisation that the world outside had ceased to matter for now.

“I guess we’re lucky we even have this,” Éléanor said softly, her voice trailing as she looked back at him, their faces close enough to feel the heat radiating between them. “It could’ve been much worse.”

Patrick nodded, but his eyes lingered on her, darkening with an emotion that made the room feel warmer still. “Yeah,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I’m glad it’s you I’m stuck here with. You’re... pretty decent company .” The playful curve of his lips softened, revealing a sincerity that wrapped around her like a blanket.

He leaned forward, the movement deliberate, and brushed his fingers across her hand. The touch sent a spark through her, lingering even as he set her empty mug aside with care. When he turned back to her, his expression had shifted, eyes intense, as if he were trying to memorise every detail.

Patrick’s hand lifted, moving slowly until it cupped her cheek, his thumb grazing the curve of her jaw with a tenderness that left her breathless. Éléanor leaned into his touch, her heartbeat thundering in her chest as their eyes met, the distance between them shrinking with every second.

Neither of them spoke.

Patrick moved first, leaning in and closing the small space between them. When their lips met, it was as if a spark had lit a fuse. 

Éléanor’s hand slid up to the back of his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer with an unspoken plea. He responded in kind, his arm wrapping around her waist with a sure but tender touch.

In a seamless motion, they rose together, the movement natural and instinctive, their lips never breaking contact. Patrick guided her backwards, steps slow and steady but charged with intent as they made their way towards the couch. 

Éléanor’s heart pounded in her chest, her body alive with sensation. Every brush of Patrick’s lips, every touch of his hand on her skin, sent sparks of warmth coursing through her, making her pulse race. 

Patrick gently eased her down onto the couch, his body hovering over hers as their kisses grew more urgent, more demanding, more desperate. 

The space between them seemed to evaporate as his hands moved over her back, tracing her curves with a mix of tenderness and raw need. His touch was everywhere —gentle but commanding, igniting a fire that blazed hotter with each passing second.

Éléanor’s fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him closer, craving more. She felt like she was burning from the inside, her skin tingling with a fierce energy, like that fuse they had lit had finally exploded. 

There was nothing else—just him.

They broke the kiss for just a moment, both of them breathing heavily, their foreheads resting together as they tried to catch their breath. Patrick’s hands were still on her waist, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin, the simple touch sending waves of heat through her, stoking the fire that was already burning inside her.

“Are you sure about this?” His voice was low, husky, each word a quiet rumble that made her heart race. His breath was warm against her lips, his question lingering between them.

Éléanor smiled, her heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and certainty. She reached up, her hand cupping his cheek, her thumb grazing the stubble along his jaw as she looked into his eyes. “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice soft but steady, filled with the surety she felt at that moment. “I’m sure.”

With that, Patrick’s lips were on hers again, the kiss deeper this time, more confident. His hand slid under her sweater, his fingers brushing against her bare skin. Éléanor gasped into his mouth, arching her back as she pressed herself closer to him, her body responding to his every touch.

Patrick slowly began to lift the fabric, his hands warm and steady. Éléanor shifted beneath him, helping him peel it away, her skin instantly exposed to the cool air of the cabin, leaving her in only her panties. 

But before she could feel the cold, Patrick was there, his hands on her bare waist, his mouth covering hers in another slow, deep kiss. Before he lowered himself, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone. His lips moved with a deliberate slowness, trailing down the sensitive skin of her neck and over her chest, each kiss drawing a soft gasp from Éléanor.

She let her hands wander across his broad shoulders, feeling the strength in him as he held her close, his body warm against hers. His lips brushed over the swell of her breasts, his breath teasing against her skin before he dipped his head lower, leaving a trail of heated kisses as he moved down her body.

The firelight flickered, casting golden shadows across the room, making the moment feel all the more intimate, as if they were the only two people in the world.

Patrick’s hands traced the curve of her waist, pulling her closer as he kissed just above the waistband of her panties, his breath warm against her skin. Éléanor’s breath hitched as his lips lingered there, his touch sending waves of pleasure through her. 

He kissed his way back up, capturing her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss that left her breathless, his hands roaming over her sides. Then, with a smooth, almost teasing motion, he tugged at her underwear again before sliding them down and tossing them aside.

 She felt the cold air on her overheated, exposed skin, and her nerves thrummed in arousal.

Éléanor’s hands slid down his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under her palms, her fingers grazing the elastic of his boxers. She felt his hard cock through the thin layer of fabric and was desperate to feel him, to continue what they had started yesterday. 

So she pushed his boxers down, leaving them both completely exposed, their bodies pressed together, skin against skin. 

Patrick looked down at Éléanor in the soft morning light, his features softened by the glow filtering through the windows. The shadows from the slowly burning fire danced across his sharp jawline, but it was the intensity in his eyes, the way he looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered at that moment, that made Éléanor feel like she was melting beneath him.

His chest, broad and strong, rose and fell with steady breaths, but the tension in his muscles betrayed the restraint he was barely holding onto. 

Éléanor’s eyes dropped to his body, taking in the sight of him, her breath catching in her throat. He was perfect—every inch of him strong and toned, his cock hard and thick, standing proudly against his abdomen. She reached out, her hand wrapping around him, her fingers brushing over his length. Patrick let out a low groan, his hips pushing forward slightly into her hand as he closed his eyes for a moment, savouring the sensation.

But he didn’t let her linger there long. 

His fingers traced lightly over her skin, starting at her collarbone and slowly moving downward, exploring her curves as if committing every inch of her to memory. Éléanor shivered at the warmth of his touch, her body responding to the slow burn of his attention before her mind could even catch up. 

His hands, big and slightly rough, slid over her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples with just enough pressure to make her gasp.

Patrick’s mouth followed, placing soft kisses along her collarbone, then lower, his lips brushing over her chest, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Éléanor arched into him, her breath coming faster as his lips closed around her nipple, his hand still gently kneading the other breast. 

The sensation was overwhelming—his warmth against the cool air of the cabin, the firelight flickering beside them, and the intimacy of his touch sending jolts of pleasure through her.

Éléanor’s fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, her body instinctively moving with his as he kissed and touched her with growing intensity. His hands roamed lower, brushing over her stomach and down to her hips, and then, with a firm but gentle grip, he guided her legs apart. The warmth of his fingers, firm but gentle, made her hips lift involuntarily, a soft moan escaping her lips.

Without a word, he slid his hand between her legs, his fingers finding her cunt wet. 

He paused for just a second, letting the sensation sink in for both of them. “Éléanor,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, his fingers brushing over her sex with a soft touch, barely parting the netherlips but enough to feel her wetness. 

Patrick’s eyes flicked up to meet hers, and a low groan rumbled from his chest as he watched Éléanor gasping and her body trembling under his touch.

He slipped two of his thick, strong fingers into her cunt, pressing them in deep and curling them just enough to find that sensitive spot within her, the one that made her back arch and her breath catch in her throat. 

Éléanor moaned, her hands gripping his shoulders, her body reacting to every movement he made. The way his fingers curled inside her and the steady pressure he applied sent wave after wave of desire through her.

Patrick watched her closely, his gaze locked on her face as he continued to finger her with that perfect rhythm, his thumb now brushing over her clit in slow, firm circles. The pleasure was instantaneous, sharp, her hips instinctively lifting to meet his hand. Éléanor moaned into his mouth, her body trembling as he played her like an instrument he knew too well.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Patrick groaned, his voice barely a whisper, full of awe and lust. His thumb pressed against her clit again, his fingers moving in rhythm with the growing tension between them. Éléanor’s body responded instantly, tightening around him, her hands gripping his shoulders tighter, nails digging into his skin as she urged him on.

 “Patrick…” she gasped, barely able to form words, her hips grinding against his hand as her body moved in sync with his. His fingers pumped inside her, slow but steady, the high building with each thrust. She felt his cock, hard and hot, pressing against her thigh as his thumb continued its relentless work on her clit, sending her closer and closer to the edge.

He could feel it too—the way her body tensed and quivered beneath him, the growing wetness that coated his fingers as he stroked her deeply, curling his fingers inside her just to hear that sweet gasp leave her lips. The sensation of her slick heat gripping him made his cock ache with need, and the way her body responded to his touch only heightened his arousal.

Éléanor’s hips bucked against his hand, her moans growing louder as she felt herself teetering on the brink. Patrick’s fingers moved faster, his thumb pressing firmly against her clit, sending her spiralling into a frenzy of pleasure. Her breaths came in ragged gasps as she clung to him, her body trembling under the overwhelming sensation.

Éléanor’s hand shot up, tangling in his hair, pulling him down for a kiss that was anything but gentle. Her lips moved urgently against his, her breath hot and uneven as she kissed him deeply, swallowing his groans of pleasure. She was so close, her body strung tight, every nerve on fire as he continued his slow, torturous rhythm.

And then he stopped.

He withdrew his fingers slightly, his thumb easing its pressure, leaving her right at the precipice but holding her there, not letting her fall. Éléanor let out a frustrated gasp, her body aching for release as she looked up at him in confusion. 

He cupped her face with his now damp fingers, his thumb brushing over her cheek as he kissed her again, softer this time, more controlled. “Not yet,” he whispered against her lips, his voice thick with desire but laced with restraint. He was holding back, savouring every moment, wanting to prolong the pleasure for as long as possible.

Éléanor’s body throbbed with need, every nerve alight with the desire for more, but as Patrick kissed her again, slower, deeper, she melted into him, letting herself get lost in the heat of the moment.

He started to move his fingers inside her again, slow and teasing.

She needed more, her hips rolling against his hand as she sought relief from the unbearable tension building inside her. But Patrick was in control now, his lips ghosting over her neck, the soft, teasing brush of his mouth making her moan with frustration and desire.

“Patrick, please…” she whispered, her voice barely audible, breathless with need.

He lifted his head, his dark, hungry eyes meeting hers. 

A smile played at the corner of his lips, and he kissed her again, this time slower, deeper, letting her feel the heat of him. His free hand traced up her side, his fingers brushing over her bare breast, teasing the sensitive skin. Éléanor gasped into his mouth as his hand cupped her breast, his thumb rolling over her nipple again, making it peak under his touch.

Her body responded to every move he made, a slow, torturous build of pleasure that had her squirming beneath him. Patrick broke the kiss, his lips moving to her jawline, trailing hot kisses down her neck and over her collarbone. He paused at her breast, his tongue flicking over her nipple before he took it into his mouth, sucking gently.

Éléanor cried out, her back arching, her body pressing closer to him as the sensation of his mouth on her breast and his fingers inside her drove her crazy. The combination of his touch, his lips, and the deliberate, slow pace was overwhelming, every nerve in her body alive and burning for him.

Patrick’s fingers curled inside her again, pressing against that spot deep within her, his thumb rubbing slow circles over her clit. Éléanor’s breath hitched, her entire body tensing as the pleasure surged through her in waves. She could feel the edge approaching again, that delicious tightness in her core building, but Patrick kept her on the brink again .

Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him back up to her lips, and she kissed him with a fierce intensity, her frustration and desire pouring into the kiss. Patrick groaned into her mouth, his own need evident as he pressed his hips against her, his hard cock rubbing against her thigh, spreading precum on her skin.

“Patrick… I need you,” Éléanor murmured, her voice a breathless plea against his lips, her desperation raw and unguarded.

He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his hand still working her slowly. His eyes darkened at her words, the intensity in them almost too much to bear. He kissed her again, rougher this time, before pulling his hand away, leaving her empty and aching for more.

Patrick’s fingers paused for a moment as he looked into Éléanor’s eyes, his breath hot and heavy against her skin. He pulled back slightly, the desire still strong between them, but his gaze softened, filled with a mix of hunger and care.

“I should grab a condom,” he murmured, his voice low but steady, breaking the tension just enough to pull them both back to reality, and the memory of last night flickered in his eyes.

Éléanor nodded, her chest still rising and falling quickly as she tried to catch her breath. “Yes… please,” she whispered, her body already aching for him to return, the intensity of the moment too much to wait.

Patrick reached for his wallet on the side table, his mouth curving in a small, knowing smile as he pulled out the condom, seemingly having placed it there sometime after last night, perhaps in a mix of preparation and nerves.

Without thinking, she reached out, her fingers brushing his wrist as she spoke softly, “Let me…”

Patrick shook his head gently, his thumb grazing her knuckles as he held her gaze, his expression soft yet resolute. His eyes stayed on hers as he shook his head, his voice low and soothing. “No, it’s fine—I’ll do it. I don’t think I’ll be able to keep it together if you touch my dick now.”

She watched as his fingers deftly tore open the small packet, the tearing sound loud in the quiet room. His fingers brushed her thigh as he rolled the condom over his hard cock. Her heart pounded in her chest, the sight of him making her thighs clench together in anticipation.

Patrick leaned forward again, his body pressing into hers, the warmth of his skin seeping into her. His lips found hers, slow and deliberate. His hand, rough yet gentle, slid down her side, tracing the curve of her waist before his fingers brushed over the sensitive skin between her legs.

Éléanor gasped into his mouth, her hips instinctively arching towards his touch as his fingers explored her wet sex once more. He teased her, his thumb circling her clit with agonising slowness while his fingers slipped inside her, stretching her just enough to remind her of how much she needed him. 

“You’re so perfect like this,” he whispered against her lips, his voice rough and low, sending shivers down her spine. Every inch of her body responded to him, the heat between them growing unbearable, her need for him nearly overwhelming.

Patrick could feel it, too, the way her body clenched around his fingers, her slick heat making his head spin. He groaned softly, the sound reverberating between them, as he moved his hand to guide his cock to her entrance. 

She moaned into his mouth, her body trembling with need. Patrick’s cock brushed against her again, the condom in place, and this time there was no hesitation—not like last night. His hand gripped her thigh, pulling her leg up to wrap around his waist as he slowly pushed inside her.

Éléanor’s sharp intake of breath echoed in the room as her body responded to the delicious stretch, her nails digging into his back as she pulled him closer. Patrick’s heart raced, his body trembling as he fought to maintain control, the feeling of her slick heat surrounding him inch by inch.

The sensation of him filling her, stretching her slowly, was everything she had been craving and everything she didn’t know she was craving. 

“God… you feel incredible,” he breathed, his forehead resting against hers as he pushed deeper, his cock sinking into her with slow, measured thrusts. He could feel every pulse of her body, every tremor as her walls gripped him tighter.

Her body responded instantly, arching up to meet him, desperate for more. But Patrick moved with deliberate care, easing into her slowly. Filling her inch by inch until he was fully inside her. He groaned against her neck, his breath ragged as he held himself still for a moment, letting her adjust to the feeling of him.

Éléanor’s hips rolled instinctively, urging him deeper, her breath coming in shallow gasps. “Patrick, move,” she whispered, her voice laced with need as her legs wrapped around his waist. She was losing herself in the feeling of him, the fullness, the weight, the stretch.

He started slow, his thrusts gentle but deep, each one sending ripples of pleasure through them both. Patrick could feel the way her body responded to him, the soft moans escaping her lips driving him wild. 

As his pace quickened, he kissed her again, hard and desperate. His hands roamed over her body, one cupping her breast, kneading gently, while the other slipped between them, his fingers finding her clit again.

Éléanor gasped loudly, her body trembling beneath him as he worked her with expert precision, his cock moving in sync with his fingers. Every thrust, every touch, brought her closer to the edge, and Patrick could feel her body tightening around him, her breath coming faster, her moans louder.

He couldn’t hold back anymore, the pressure inside him building as he lost himself in the moment. 

His hips moved with a deep, driving rhythm, each thrust intensifying as his fingers circled her clit with relentless precision. Éléanor’s breath hitched, her gasps quickening as her body arched beneath him, her soft cries filling the room.

“Patrick… I—I’m so close,” she whispered, her voice laced with desperate need, her body tightening around him as she felt the pressure mounting, ready to break.

Patrick groaned in response, his own control fraying as his movements became more urgent, his fingers working her with precision. He kissed her again, his lips crashing against hers as the tension in her body snapped with a particularly rough flick of his finger on her clit. 

Éléanor’s orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, her body arching off the couch as her walls clenched around him. She gasped his name, her voice trembling with the intensity of her release, her fingers gripping his shoulders as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

Patrick followed her, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. With a final deep thrust, he groaned her name, his body shuddering as he came, the condom filling with his cum. His body collapsed against hers, both of them breathless and spent.

For a few moments, neither of them moved. The only sound in the room was their soft, shared breaths and the crackling of the fire nearby. Patrick slowly pulled out, carefully removing the condom and tossing it aside before settling back down beside her.

They lay in a comfortable silence, their bodies entwined as the room slowly settled around them. The soft, golden morning light spilt in through the windows, warming the space as they stayed close, wrapped in each other’s presence. Patrick’s fingers traced gentle, soothing patterns on her arm, and Éléanor let herself sink into the comfort of his steady heartbeat beneath her hand.

She felt like she could stay here forever, wrapped in this quiet, unhurried happiness.