#which is possibly longer than I've ever worked on anything in my life

[mydarlingclaudia]

no shirt, no blouse

note : I've only ever written for Leon like, once in my life and no matter how many times I tried to fix it tumblr kept my blog and what I uploaded hidden, this is my third time trying this again so I'm not gonna be too surprised if the same thing happens. I'm sorry if Leon is ooc, this is just a Leon comfort fic

wc : 2k

desc : you taking care of Leon when he comes home from a mission. established relationship, fluff, comfort, Leon being kinda head over heels for you, mentions of injuries, re4r Leon (but not specifically his mission in Spain), pet names (baby), gn!reader, not proofread.

To you, Leon was always sweet.

In the quiet evenings when he'd come home from a mission, that's when his shell would break and he'd let himself rest. When he'd crawl under the covers with you and hold you close to his chest while he laid on his cold side of the bed that the two of you shared, that was when he knew he was officially home. Hearing you talk about how badly you had missed him and how happy you are to have him back as the tips of your fingers lightly run over any cuts on his face was like a dream to him.

His shirts would always smell a little bit like you whenever he came home, so would his pillow, he’d never admit to you that he loved it. By the time that you’d fall asleep, after the two of you ate and you washed his hair for him in the bath, he’d still be awake, despite the late hour. He’d sit and watch your chest rise and fall as you slept, his hands resting on your sides underneath the sweatshirt you slept in, the one you had stolen from him.

He had missed you, you knew that much. He knows that there’s always a possibility that he won’t be able to come home to you, or something that would keep him away from you for much longer than either of you hoped. But no matter how long it took for him to get back to you, or the amount of damage his body had taken while working, you’d always greet him with a smile. You push away all your questions and worries for the next day, content on just having him back in your arms, feeling his heart beat underneath your palm while he holds onto you tightly.

You would never be able to read Leon's mind, you thought it would be difficult to do even if you possessed that kind of power, but when his face softens as he looks at you while you help him wash away his aches and pains, you have a good idea of what's going through his head.

This time is no different.

You're sitting on the edge of your bathtub, combing your fingers through Leon's wet hair while he sits in the warm water. He hadn't said much since he walked through the door, just a simple, "Missed you, love you." You never pushed him to talk too much when he gets home, you just want him to tell you if he's hurt badly, which he hardly ever is.

There are bruises splattered across his body, all in different shades of purple and yellow. There were a few gashes that had been stitched up before he came home to you, thankfully no broken bones, just a few more cuts along his face and arms, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. You knew that the government would do a checkup on him after he finishes a mission, but you liked to look him over again in the odd chance that they missed anything or if he was trying to hide a wound from you.

He still hadn't eaten yet, but you wouldn't let it stay that way for long, you'd let him lay down in bed while you put some food together for the two of you. But he likes to sit in the tub for at least thirty minutes before he either decides he's hungry or the water's starting to cool down, you'd stay with him however long he wanted, though.

Leon shifted slightly in the tub, moving closer to you than he already was to rest his head against your thigh, the water from his hair seeping through your jeans while the soap clung to the fabric. He brought his arm up to rest over your knees, letting more water soak through your jeans while some of it ran down his fingers and onto the bathmat outside the tub. You smiled down at him, one of your hands leaving his hair to run down over the back of his neck and his shoulder blades.

You let your fingers trace over a bruise the size of your fist on the back of his shoulder, pressing against it gently. "How'd you get this one?" You whispered to him, watching as he rolled his shoulder slightly in response to your touch.

"I fell," He murmured against your thigh.

"You fell?" You giggled, letting your hand leave his shoulder and return to his hair while your gaze lingered on a few gashes on his back that had already been stitched up.

"It was raining and I slipped, sorry that I don't have a cool story to tell you." He huffed, nuzzling his face into the side of your thigh as he moved his arm back into the tub and instead let his hand rest on your knee, giving it a light squeeze.

"Do any of them have cool stories?"

"If you think me getting my ass kicked is cool, then yeah, I guess some of them do." You chuckled slightly in response, pulling your hands out of his hair to rinse the remaining shampoo off in the bath water.

"I'll ice your bruises for you later," You offered, bringing the cup you kept in the tub down to the water to fill it. "Tip your head back."

"Too cold," He mumbled softly, detaching himself from your leg and tipping his head back while you moved one hand to cover his eyes as you poured the water over his soapy hair.

"Yeah? You'd rather just let them heal for the next four days instead of three?"

"I can ice them whenever, it's no big deal."

"I get that, I'm just trying to take care of you." You say softly, removing your hand from his eyes and setting the cup of water back on the edge of the tub.

"I know, baby, I know." He quickly reassures you, laying his head back down on your thigh and pressing a kiss to your clothed leg. "It just doesn't need to get done tonight. Thank you, though."

"Yeah, of course." You nod, resting your hand on the back of his neck, letting your thumb trace over the skin that lays there.

"C'mon, let's go lay down." He pressed a few more kisses to the fabric of your wet jeans before he allowed you to stand, grabbing him a towel and holding it out to him as he got out of the tub. Leon dried himself off carefully, his body facing you as you leaned against the bathroom sink, watching him quietly.

Leon moves out of your way as you go to pull out the drain plug at the bottom of the tub, "What do you wanna eat?" You groan out softly as you stand back up, placing the bath plug down next to the cup on the edge of the tub. "If you want, I can make those little kraft mac'n'cheese microwave packages for us."

"Yes, please." He sighs softly as he wraps his towel around his waist, then grabbing you by the shoulders to place a soft kiss on your lips. "Don't take too long."

"I won't," You smile, leaning forward to kiss him gently. The kiss is only a second long, Leon chases after your lips as you pull away before he catches himself and freezes, you give his bicep a slight squeeze as you pull away and open the bathroom door.

You listen to the faint shuffling noises of Leon getting dressed in your bedroom down the hall as you microwave the small, plastic bowls of mac'n'cheese. Leon never asked you to put too much effort into cooking whenever he came home. Cereal, ramen, even just some slices of cheese and pepperoni would be fine for Leon as long as he'd be next to you in bed by the end of the night.

Leon was waiting for you underneath the covers of your shared bed as you entered your bedroom with your small dinner in each hand. He graciously accepts the food you hand to him, resting the hot bowl down on the blanket, watching you intently as you begin to change into your pajamas.

"I missed you," He mumbled to you, his eyes resting on your face as you adjusted your clothes.

"I know, you told me already." You smiled at him, sitting against the pillows on your side of the bed as Leon immediately moved to cuddle into your side.

"Thought you'd like to hear me say it again."

"I mean, I guess," You shrug jokingly, poking at your mac'n'cheese with your fork. Leon snorted slightly and rolled his eyes, leaning against you to press a kiss to your jaw before he began digging at his food.

Leon always watched you while the two of you ate in bed, focusing on the way your lips curled around your fork instead of focusing on the bowl in his hands. His eyes would trail from your lips to your eyes, patiently waiting for you to finish eating so you could pay attention to him again. There wasn’t a tv in your room, so you’d often fill the quiet void by telling him about your day or the things that you had done while he was away. He’d listen intently, even if what you were saying wasn’t all that interesting, he didn’t ask follow-up questions most of the time, instead focusing on the way your lips moved and the sound of your voice. Your days were mostly all the same; work was boring, you missed him, you went on a longer walk than usual and got a new treat from that bakery down the street, Leon loved hearing it all. He’d tell you a little a bit about his recent mission, leaving out most of the parts where he came too close to death, instead telling you about whatever scenery he saw that he deemed good enough for you to like and how well he fought.

Both yours and Leon’s bowls of mac’n’cheese are long finished by now, both of the bowls and forks left to rest on top of your bedside table until you threw them out the next day. You rested your head on his left bicep, tucked in close to his chest while you held his right hand in both your hands, your fingers running over his bruised knuckles. It was eleven, maybe eleven-thirty at night, you were well past tired, but Leon let you keep rambling on.

“I’m really happy you’re home.” You yawned, your grip on his hand and wrist tightening as you curled into him further.

“Me too,” He smiled, pulling your hands closer to his chest, he squeezed your hand back, shifting slightly to let you get more comfortable. “Go to sleep.”

“No,” Leon chuckled softly at the faint whine in your voice, watching as you let go of his hand and wrap them around his back, his hand that you were holding captive finding purchase on the skin of your waist underneath his old sweatshirt that you took as your own.

“I’m gonna be here in the morning,” He whispered as he kissed your forehead, running his hand up and down your side. “Just go to bed, baby. Don’t you need your beauty sleep?”

“Yeah, but I missed you.”

“I know that, I missed you, too. But you also look really tired right now and it’s late.” He squeezed your waist, moving his arm out from underneath your head to wrap around your shoulders. “I could listen to you talk on and on for hours, but right now I wanna fall asleep next to you. We can sleep in tomorrow, I’ll spend all day with you.”

“M’kay…” You yawned again, letting his quiet voice coax you further into your drowsiness. “You’re not hurt too bad?”

“No, you’re a great doctor.”

“Alright,” You nodded, lifting your head slightly to kiss him. “Goodnight.” You murmured against his lips, feeling him smile and run his hand along your spine.

“Sweet dreams, go to sleep now.” He whispered, tucking you back into his chest, feeling your heart beat against his chest as your breathing evened-out, signaling you falling asleep in his arms again.

[hellodropbear]

like she used to (IV)

alexia putellas x sister

chapter I, II, III

sorry this took longer! have been very busy with work and uni for the past few days :)

~~~~~~

Aitana has been suspicious of something all week. I feel her eyes on me during training, when we're in the locker room, as she drives me home and as I walk up to my front door.

But she doesn't say anything and I am grateful. Because if she did say something, I don't think I would be able to answer without telling her every single thing on my mind.

Nobody wants that. Not me, not Aitana. Probably not Alexia either.

So instead, I sit in the midfielder's car quietly, only speaking when she prompts me to, although even that has slowed down over the past few days. She was confused the first time I told her I didn't want to stop for ice cream, and I was grateful that she didn't ask again.

"you're sure? You've never refused ice cream before, lena!"

All I could do was shake my head, keeping my eyes focused on the road ahead.

I get home and I go straight to my room which is easy enough, considering Mami comes home from work late. I am supposed to be going to school, but Aitana doesn't know that and Mami doesn't know any different. She thinks I am there, and as long as I pick up the phone to my personal tutor in the evening, the school won't bother contacting my mother.

I shouldn't be skipping school, but I can't face going there and being asked all those questions about how great it is to be training in the first team, to finally have broken through into a squad that I would hopefully play with for most of my career.

But it isn't great, not really. My life has become a game of hide and seek, escaping rooms that my sister enters, too afraid to even face her.

I am not scared of her, more of what she will say. I am barely coping as it is and anything she says will just make it worse. It is best to just leave her alone, keep my distance.

And I think she thinks the same. She said she was going to take a step back, after all.

Not that is has been any different from before she took that step back. Her back was already against the wall, on the other side of the room from me. Any further and she would leave my life completely which does not seem possible, considering we play for the same club.

But I wish she wasn't so far away, I wish that I could just reach out and grab her attention, for her to know that I needed help without even having to ask.

And it hurts me, more than I'd like to admit, that her friends know exactly how to make me feel better, to make me feel valued, worthy. But she is just there, like a fly on the wall, always watching but never doing anything.

Even the more clueless ones have started to realise that things are not perfect between me and Alexia. We are never in the same room together, I leave training with Aitana every day. It is obvious, we all know it.

So they don't push us together. They don't talk about Alexia to me and they don't ask why we don't drive home together, why she isn't the first person to give me a hug if I score in training.

They don't want me to be compared to her any more than I already have been.

Because on top of all the personal issues, there is a lot of pressure, being her sister.

'Will Elena Putellas follow in her sister's footsteps?'

'The younger Putellas - set to be better than Alexia Putellas, but still hasn't come off the Barcelona bench.'

I've seen the articles, of course I have. Nobody ever mentions it though, nobody mentions the pressure I am under, the pressure I feel to live up to the expectations.

Of course I will not score as many goals as her, of course I will not make a debut at the end of the match like a midfielder often does. It is a lot harder for a centre back to come on as a last minute sub. It is harder for a centre back to score so many goals.

There are feasible reasons why they are saying these things, but none of the news sites think to explore those reasons, exclusively focusing on the negatives.

I don't bring it up because I think that if I mention something even slightly about my emotions, every single thing I feel will all come rushing out, a tsunami wave that will destroy everything I have worked towards.

I have to be strong; I can't let a little bit of pressure overcome me. Alexia had pressure, and she was never swallowed by it.

Alexia was not weak. I can not be weak.

But it feels like the tide has been pulled back, brewing in the deep dark depths of the ocean, preparing to build and build and build until it all becomes too much, until it is here, a huge wave ready to swallow me. Too late to escape, too late to stop it.

But quelling the wave does not seem like something I can do.

The only thing I can do about it is play my piano.

It is thing I am most grateful for, my piano that brings me closer to my father, the one thing I have that nobody else does.

I may not have his memories, but I don't think any memories could match the connection I feel, just sitting on his stool, my fingers dancing on the keys that his hands once graced, the keys that we used to play together.

It was the one thing that we shared, just the two of us. Something that neither of my sisters or my Mami could understand. All they know is to leave me be when I am playing the piano. I don't want to be interrupted and they don't want to face the wrath of my anger if I am stopped before I am finished.

Because it is the only way I can express my emotions and the emotions do not stop coming until the song is finished, until there is a puddle of tears in my lap, fed by the streams that track down my cheeks.

So they leave me be. I want them to leave me with my emotions when I play the piano. But they also leave me with my emotions when I sit in the lounge room, staring at a blank tv screen, staring out the window at just about nothing in particular. I wish they would realise that I don't always want to be left with my emotions.

I wish they could notice that something may be wrong, something more than just the loss of my sister.

Because it feels like more than that. I have never felt so lost in my life.

There is just so much going through my mind at any one time and I can't let it out because once I start I will not be able to stop until my walls have burst and I am nothing but an empty shell of who I was before.

Everything I once was is gone.

Replaced by confusion, hurt, sadness.

And I don't know why, because Alexia isn't all of me, football isn't all of me.

I know it shouldn't be but it feels like it is and even though Alba is right there as well, and Mami and my friends from La Masia, all I can think of is the fact that my older sister doesn't want to be my older sister any more.

And I can't stop thinking about what it could be like, if it was still what it used to be.

~~~~~~

I spend another two weeks wallowing in my confusingly overwhelming emotions before Mapi decides to intervene, intercepting me as I walk towards Aitana after training once again.

"No, you are coming with me today, pequena!"

I didn't even realise Mapi was here, her rehab finishes at the same time as Alexia, an hour before training ends.

She beams and throws her arm over my shoulder, ignoring my disgruntled expression.

"I will see you tomorrow, ABC." I murmer softly, but both Spaniards can hear it.

They both think I am too short to see the concerned look they throw at each other, but I notice it. I notice everything.

Mapi guides me out of the facilities and into her car and I can feel her concern grow as she inspects me from the drivers seat.

"You are not ok, Elena."

Her words are soft but understanding. It surprises me how she could just pick it up like that, I thought it was less obvious.

I thought it was less obvious because nobody has brought it up to me before.

I shake my head, not trusting myself to say anything without crying, although at this point it feels inevitable.

"That's ok. It's ok to not be ok, you know?"

I nod and she continues.

"When you came over the other week, I told you to talk to someone, but I don't think you have, have you?"

I continue my vow of silence by shaking my head, my eyes concentrated on how my hands shake and fidget in my lap.

I am too concentrated on my hands to realise that my eyes have filled with tears, to realise that the first one has slipped out. I only notice when the fat tear lands with a splat on my thumb and I stare at it, my mind full of confusion and unfamiliarity.

I don't understand how I feel, because I feel sad, and angry. They are normal emotions, ones that I have always felt, just usually in a less aggressive and persistent way.

But I feel so... lost, isolated. I feel alone and that is something I am not familiar with, not at all. Usually, I would talk to Alexia about my anger and sadness, but this has been going on for so long, slowly chipping away at my self-confidence, at my happiness. Now all I can feel is the loss of someone. Someone so important.

I may be dramatic, but how else would I describe it? She decided she was too busy and threw me away, a piece of rubbish. How am I supposed to cope with the fact that it's all I am to Alexia?

We used to be so strong as a family, we were always there for each other, nobody left behind. But I can't help but feel like I have been, just a bit.

Mami and Alba love me, Mami and Alba are proud of me. But Mami gets home after I go to bed and Alba has her own life, her own friends. She doesn't need to be pulled back by her little sister who has lost the ability to deal with her own emotions.

It would not be fair for me to pile my problems with Alexia onto Alba. It would not be fair to make her pick a side.

Alexia could be the person that helps me. We have similar schedules, interests, personalities. She knew me like the back of her hand and I knew her equally as well. But I don't think I have ever felt so disconnected from her.

Mapi snaps me out of my daydreaming when she speaks again.

"It is not healthy to keep everything inside of you, pequena, so we are going to the beach and we are talking. I am going to force it out of you because I miss my bright little best friend."

She reaches over and wipes the tears from my eyes, awkwardly pulling me into a hug.

"Everything is going to be ok. You are going to be ok, Elena Putellas, because you have me."

I nod, leaning back into my chair and using my palms to wipe my eyes as Mapi turns the car on and begins to drive out of the carpark.

"Thank you, Mapi." It is a whisper, but she hears me loud and clear, offering me a watery smile before focusing her attention right back onto the road ahead.

The car is quiet as we drive to the beach, Mapi just humming along to her song.

Mapi has always been a big talker. She always says she finds silences uncomfortable and sometimes even slightly overwhelming, so she talks. She talks and talks at a speed that makes it practically impossible to register what she is saying, and the inability to comprehend her spoken thoughts is only heightened by the way she jumps from topic to topic, her voice only increasing in speed and excitement as she gets more and more carried away.

But she is Mapi, and Mapi always talks, so I got used to it, finding her chattiness endearing, she was fun, always happy.

Which is why it is so meaningful when she isn't speaking, like she knows that her words are fruitless and likely not particularly tasteful - they won't be received well.

She is silent as we walk down to the beach and as she lays her rug and pillows out, sitting down and motioning for me to sit down next to her.

She is quiet for a few moments, like she is debating within herself on what she should say and when she should say it, captivated by the way he waves crash onto the sand cyclically, the beaming rays of sun showering the crystal water, the first indicators of the imminent sunset.

When she speaks, it is slow and it is quiet. Her words hug me in a way that has been missed for so long, and I immediately soften; she would have noticed my shoulders relaxing underneath her arm.

"I remember when I first met you." Her eyes are closed and a soft smile rests on her face. "It was before I even joined Barcelona, at my third camp with Spain. I had heard about you before, from Alexia, I knew so much about you from how much she would gush about everything you did every time I spoke to her. In person, over text, she was obsessed with you and sometimes I didn't understand why it seemed like all she spoke about was her little 5 year old sister."

She chuckles, but I stay silent, still staring out at the ocean.

"But then I met you and I immediately understood why she wouldn't stop talking about you. You radiated this happiness, like a little sunbeam. Alexia got you from the barricade after a match, it was only my second ever appearance, but Alexia brought you right over to me and introduced us. You grabbed onto my leg and held it, almost yelling about how cool it was that there was another player to meet."

I smile. I have never heard this story before.

"And then the next time, you recognised me and I was so surprised, so happy. But you were also happy, Elena, you always were smiling, laughing. You would hang from your sisters shoulders and whack her on the back, swinging around in her arms and laughing so loudly that we could hear you from the other side of the pitch. You were always like that, every time I saw you. I found myself looking forward to spain camps even more, because I got to see little Elena Putellas with her big smile and cheeky personality. But recently, I think you have lost a bit of your spark because you do not seem as happy. You seem miserable, lena, and I want to help you find that spark again because I promise, it is not gone forever. It has just been buried so deep by all these emotions that are so big and overwhelming and you can't even find who you are anymore."

Her words strike a cord, and I find that my eyes fill with tears once more, but I do everything I do to hold them back as I speak. There is a long moment of silence as we both look out at the waves before I break it with a quiet inhalation.

"I am so scared, Mapi." My voice breaks but I continue anyway. "I don't know who I am anymore and it is so scary. I don't know what happened or where I went but one day I woke up and I was just a miserable shell of the person I was and I don't know what to do."

She is quick to pull me into a hug as the tears start falling because we both know that once I let out the first cry, I will not be able to stop. Her soft hands through my hair and calm words that flow through the small space we occupy will do nothing to calm the turmoil I am feeling on the inside.

Thinking about it only makes it worse, like I am shaking everything up so it rises to the surface instead of letting it lay undisturbed deep inside of me.

But Mapi's words were like stepping into a turbulent plane, shaking uncontrollably, fear falling over me and triggering emotions that I didn't even realise I had inside of me. The dirt hazes up the water until everything is a big whirlwind of confusion. Emotions moving around to quickly to capture them and try to understand them.

The things I want caught up in the whirlwind of unwelcome mess, the whirlwind that I can't seem to get myself out of.

The injured centre back whispers calm words of affirmation into my ear for a while, her hand stroking up and down my back. It keeps me down to earth, does not let me fall into the trap of a million emotions.

"We will find who you are again, Elena. I will always be here to help you. I am right here."

I want to tell her that I want my sisters to be there to help me. I want Alexia to come back and I want Alba to realise that there is something wrong. But neither of them were there like Mapi is. Alba has tried to be there for me, but she doesn't get it because I don't know what to say.

But all I do is cry in her arms. The sobs soften into quiet whimpers as the sun sets, casting a yellow glow over the beach, but we stay there even as the air becomes cooler and the sky becomes darker.

Mapi decides that I will not be going home that night, not trusting me to take proper care of herself and instead taking me back to her apartment again.

Ingrid is there this time, and she looks at her girlfriend with concern when we walk in, immediately noticing my red face and puffy eyes.

"Hey, Elena." She smiled at me, but I was preoccupied by the little black cat that had begun to circle my legs.

"We had a chat on the beach and decided that because her Mami isn't home, she would stay here the night again."

I picked up Bagheera, tickling under her chin as I sat down on the sofa, trying to ignore the wary glances that were being sent in my direction by the Spaniard and Norwegian.

"I don't know what to do."

Mapi's words were hushed, and by the way she immediately spoke more quietly when she saw my head whip towards them, it is clear that they were not for my ears.

But as I fiddle with Bagheera's fur, I dissect her words. More than I should and definitely more than she wants me to.

She doesn't know what to do with me. She doesn't know how to help, how to fix what has been broken.

She doesn't know whether she should talk to Alexia because it would break my trust. Because telling Alexia could just make it all so much worse.

I think I have been holding onto hope that she really is that clueless and is trying to do what she thinks is best for me. I try to hope that is the reason this has all happened, and not because she simply has forgotten about me, or because she doesn't want to be responsible for me any more.

But honestly, I think it is a mix of all of that. And I think it has evolved from guilt, not watching my games, wanting to avoid the awkward conversations that could have arisen if she had apologised to me.

I wish she knew that an apology would make all the difference. A sincere one, from her heart.

Unprovoked. Just her, being truly apologetic.

Because as humiliating as it is, I would do anything to be back in her arms. I would do anything to have my older sister back, I wish that she would just do something that would make this all go away, to pick up the pieces of my shattered insides and stitch them back together. Eventually, the stitches would dissolve, I would forget all about them and I would be able to function normally again.

But Alexia is not a surgeon, and she would not be able to do that stitching seamlessly. She would use glue, but even that won't put it all back together so perfectly.

There is no way for her to just put it back together and pretend it never happened, to move on like this was just a blip. Because I am different now, I have grown. She has missed so much of my early teenage years - the years that I have most needed her help.

But I am not even sure that Alexia wants that any more; I don't know if she wants to fix this all up and move on.

The dinner table is quiet as I pick at my meal, Mapi encouraging me to eat more than a few bites, claiming she won't leave until my plate has been cleaned up.

Ingrid doesn't utter a single word, instead her green eyes piercing through my skin. I feel exposed to Ingrid, as if she can read everything, understand everything, just from one simple glance.

It is ridiculous, but she is deep in thought so I don't say anything to her either.

It is only when Mapi opens her mouth again that Ingrid's eyes flick over to her girlfriend.

"Does Alba know you feel like this? Or your Mami?"

It is a simple question, but strikes a chord.

No, neither of them know. Neither of them have even noticed a change.

I shake my head roughly, and Ingrid releases a scoff.

I look up, offended.

"What?"

She turns her head to me, confused, so I continue.

"It is not my fault! It is not easy to talk about these things."

"No, no. Elena, that was not directed at you."

She seems apologetic so I have to believe her. I push my chair back, attempting to leave the room with a clutter, cursing my misty eyes for what feels like the millionth time that day.

But me exit is not as seamless as I would have liked, and Mapi is standing right in front of me when I get up, wrapping her arms around me.

It is supposed to be to trap me, but Mapi's arms will never not be a comfort.

I immediately relax into her grip, sighing softly.

"I am so confused."

~~~~~~

Mapi's hands were running through my hair, my lap on the sofa as the tv played that evening. It had been an hour since dinner and the three of us had moved into the lounge room, the silence being filled by the Spanish show on the screen.

But there was a knock on the door and Ingrid sighed, standing up to open it, knowing that neither Mapi or I would get up.

It was both surprising and unsurprising to see Aitana standing there, her hair messy and over of her face, as if she had just been in bed.

"Is Mapi still awake?"

She didn't bother to greet Ingrid, clearly here for a reason. Why else would she have arrived at almost 11 at night.

I couldn't hear Ingrid's response, but I could hear Mapi speaking to me.

"She's worried about you too, Elena. You-"

I love Aitana, I always have.

"I know she is, she is terrible at hiding it. But she has avoided bringing it up. If she wanted me to talk to her I would try my best to, but she hasn't."

Again, I love Aitana and I know she has my best interests at heart. She knows I need to talk about everything to someone, but she also knows that I don't want to. She doesn't want to push even though I can tell she is worried. She is stressed.

Ingrid and Aitana enter as soon as I finish speaking, the Spaniard almost running to where I am lying, placing her hand on my cheek.

"You have been crying."

It is blunt, a bit surprising. I don't really know what to expect from Aitana, she has always been the light hearted one who never would shy from telling me how great I was, but we have never really spoken about melancholy emotions like these.

I suppose there has never really been a need to in the past, that is what Alexia and Alba were for.

She sits down on the floor in front of my face, her knees up to her chest as she stares at me, intensity in her eyes. It is not unlike the intensity she often displays on the pitch, motivated and passionate.

"I will help you." She is decisive. "We will fix this."

I nod softly and she runs her hand down my cheek.

"You are too young to be feeling like this, little Lena. I am sorry I let it get this far."

I look at her in confusion and she pauses before continuing.

"I knew something was wrong. I went to your games at La Masia."

I can tell Mapi is listening closer now.

"I know she didn't go to any."

Mapi gasps, quite loudly, and Aitana gives her a frustrated look, rolling her eyes softly.

"I should have said something to her. She doesn't realise how important you are, how lucky she is to have you."

I frown at her words.

"Lucky?"

It hasn't something I'd ever considered my sisters to be, having to look after a small child for most of their adolescence. Having to please me for so long.

"I used to dream of having a baby sister like you, she is lucky."

Mapi decides it is her turn to add something to the conversation.

"She loves you, Elena, she always has. Of course she thought she was lucky. She needed someone to help her pick on Alba."

There is suddenly a lump in my throat. I think it is the mention of the before that triggered it. The memories are too hard to handle, I usually avoid them at all costs.

My eyes become wet again, apparently, but Aitana just laughs softly.

"You two were just so mean to her, the poor thing."

Mapi lets out a chuckle from above me as well, and I find my mouth turning upwards into a smile.

"I probably should apologise now, shouldn't I?"

Aitana shakes her head, not able to hold back her laughs and Mapi is the same from where I can not see her.

It is when I finally laughed that I feel Mapi soften beneath me and see Aitana exhale a soft sigh of relief. They thought I wouldn't notice, but I did. I notice everything.

"We will fix this, ok?" Aitana was somewhat serious again, her hand patting my face. "We have a day off tomorrow, I will be here and we can all talk. We can all decide what to do next."

"Why are you two doing all this for me?"

Aitana sighs and Mapi's hands pause in my hair.

The midfielder looks above me, as if encouraging her to reply, but I speak up again before she can.

"Alexia is your captain, your teammate. She is your best friend, Mapi. Why are you doing so much for me when we are not speaking?"

There is another pause. It looks like Aitana is about to hit Mapi on the head, but the Spaniard speaks up before she can.

"Alexia has so many people behind her. Alexia is strong, she is experienced and she is older than you. You are just young, pequena and you are so lonely and lost. We want to help the both of you, but we need to help you first."

She pauses and Aitana finds the time to interject. It is like they have been talking about me.

Come to think of it, they probably have.

"You looked like you were going to burst. We knew that you and Alexia weren't speaking, that both of you were having a hard time because of it. But Elena, you looked destroyed. We couldn't leave you to your own devices any more. And Elena, we are doing this because we love you. So, so much."

"Alexia loves you too. More than us. She just does not do a great job of showing it, that's all."

I sigh softly, falling backwards into Mapi's lap, wondering just what I have done to deserve this.

How luckyI am to have my older sisters friends there looking out for me.

Because my family was falling apart and it was my fault. I couldn't do everything alone.

I choose not to think about what would happen if Mapi and Aitana weren't here like they are.

A tear slips down my face again, but this time it is not so sad. It is full of emotion, a grateful tear. Not quite happy, but not sad either.

"Thank you."

~~~~~~

hope you enjoyed :)

this chapter was more to gauge where elena is at, sorry if it was boring!

part V

[0xstarzx0]

DARK RED

Rafe Cameron S3x Reader

CLOSE COMMAND

[English is not my native language❗️❗️]

SYNOPSIS: Rafe found you and he’s planning on keeping it with him forever.

TW: toxic behavior, manipulation, control manipulation, threats, violence mentions, victim’s reprimand. !The reader is considered a weak-minded person, which explains her behavior towards Rafe! Mention of abortion. Insult

______________________________________________- [PT2]

6YEARS LATERS 

You watched your sons play happily in the streets of Chicago. You no longer lived as a kook, but you were happy with your children.

Music echoed through the streets as the boys were with their friends while you sunbathed peacefully.

"Mom, look what I can do!" said Elijah, making animal shadows with his hands.

You laughed and applauded, Dean coming to sit next to you.

Dean and Elijah are twin brothers.

Dean physically resembles you a lot. His eyes are just a little lighter than yours and his hair is not as wavy as yours.

Elijah strongly resembles Rafe, with the same hair, eye color, complexion, smile, EVERYTHING.

But in terms of character, they are completely different. Elijah inherited your character, while Dean has Rafe's character.

They are too young for you to say which one reminds you more of Rafe, but either way, you do your best to make sure they don’t become like him.

"When is Harper coming?" asks Dean with hint of frustration in his sad expression.

"She's coming at six-" Dean cuts you off. "How late is she staying with us?" You shrug your shoulders.

Tonight, you're working as a waitress for a high-end event in the north side of Chicago. You don't know what time you'll be home as these events can go on sometimes until three in the morning.

"I don't know Dean, but I'll make sure to come home as soon as possible," you say, gently stroking his hair.

"You always say that, but you come back super late!" The little blond puts his head against your shoulder.

It pains you to hear that because it’s true; sometimes in order to make sure you can make ends meet, you find yourself working overtime.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Dean hugs you with his little arms. "I love you, mom." You stroke his back. "I love you too, baby."

✯

The event had been going on for over an hour now, and the floors in the luxurious hotel where you were at began to fill up.

You stood up straight and tried to be as pleasant as possible. The atmosphere is enjoyable for the guests.

Each of them flaunts their wealth or talks about business. You recall the parties of this kind you used to attend with your family.

None of them were missed by you, you greet a woman as she starts talking to you.

She's quite attractive, with her medium-length black hair and her brown almond-shaped eyes. She acts as if you were the best friends in the world.

However, she doesn't do anything except talk about her life, there’s no coherence in what she’s saying, but you say nothing.

You hope to get at least a tip of $150 at this point.

She looks away from your eyes for a moment to look over your shoulder and smile. She waves her hand, probably attracting someone.

You begin to turn around to leave when you freeze. Bad memories come back one by one to the surface. Your heart beats so loudly in your ears that you can no longer hear.

You apologize and head to the bar, setting down your tray and run to the bathrooms. Rafe was there, he was right in front of you.

He still looks as charismatic and threatening as before. You walk to the sink and splash some water on your face.

And if he had recognized me? Will he make me pay? Will he be angry that I've deprived him of his children for so long? No, impossible that he’s recognized me.

You lift your head and find yourself face to face with him in the mirror. A satisfied smile on his face. You swallow hard and look at him.

His blue eyes are still as beautiful as ever, his shaved hair gives him a charm.

"It's been a long time." He says, locking the door. He advances, and you back away.

He straightens his tie and looks at himself in the mirror. "How's my child?"

You freeze in fear, the stress is at its peak. "I had an abortion." You gasp for air. He chuckles and looks at you. "You ran away just to have an abortion?"

You look at him angrily. "What do you want Rafe?" You tremble and he finally looks at you. "I know my children are somewhere in the streets of Chicago. Judging by your appearance, they must be in the South Side."

"Fuck off, Rafe!" You yell at him in anger. Rafe comes closer and looks at you with anger. "There are people who have disappeared for less than that Y/N. I suggest you lower your damn tone."

Rafe leans forward and tilts his head slightly. "I missed you." He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. You shudder at his touch.

"You broke my heart by leaving. How could you do this to me after everything I did for you." He grabs your chin and forces you to look at him.

There was a time when you would have apologized on your knees, but not anymore. "You were violentwith me."

He shrugs nonchalantly. "That happens in every relationship, it’s nothing serious." You look at him, shocked.

"How did you call them?" He asks, folding his arms across his chest. You furrow your brows. "What?..." he massages his temples. "The twins, what have you named them?" You tremble, how does he know?

"I don’t know what you mean." Rafe sighs loudly. "Do you really think I’m here by accident?" You frown, he takes out his phone and unlocks it.

He puts it on the sink, for the past five months he'd known where you live, your job, your friends, and most importantly, where his children were.

"I don’t blame you for leaving, Y/N, I’ve spent every day for the past six years thinking about you and the kids." He grabs your chin and forces you to look him in the eyes.

"I’m going to change, I promise, just give me one more chance to show you how I can be a good father for our kids." He caresses your cheek. "For our family."

You would like to scream at him, tell him to leave, but Rafe isn’t stupid. He knows that you won’t because you feel too guilty that the twins don’t have a father.

"Alright..." You say, looking into his eyes. "One and last chance." Rafe smiles and kisses your forehead. "Promise."

Rafe hugs you tightly and gently runs his fingers through your hair.

Rafe knew you were going to say yes, he was sure of it, and anyway, if you had refused, he would have made sure you wouldn’t be allowed near the children anymore.

Having money works that way.

Rafe knows it will take some time for you to no longer be afraid of him, but he will wait because that is what soulmates do. 

They always forgive their other half.

______________________________________________

Hello everyone!

And yes, after several months without news about this fan fiction, I finally write the end!

I'm sorry if the end hasn't pleased you, I don't like it too much either but I tried to do what I wanted the most. If you have any questions don't hesitate to ask them to me in private or in request, I'll answer with pleasure <3

taglist 🏷️ :

@rafemotherfuckingcameron @macchili18 @devotedlyelectronicartisan @julesandro

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[themindofachronicdaydreamer]

Edible Arrangements

fluff nation plot: your husband brings home some special brownies to share with you. content: use of marijuana, together since Jujutsu High, married (reader referred to as wife), little makeout but sfw, we are pretending geto never left gojo and is still in the picture as a sorcerer and gojo's best friend for my own mental state thank uuu word count: 4.1k satoru gojo x reader note: ahhhhhhhhh not everyone's cup of tea ik! but i thought this idea was fun since Gojo is practically on crack 99% of the time to begin with. warning i didnt proofread too thoroughly so be wary of that!

Gojo can be a lot to handle sometimes.

And by sometimes, that means most of the time.

Generally speaking, Jujutsu sorcerer Saturo Gojo is an acquired taste; his personality is one that could easily drain the average person's social battery. He is known for his unpredictable nature and impulsive ideas which are simultaneously (and somehow impressively) thought through. Knowing the sorcerer meant accepting the fact that you may never know what will happen next with him. He habitually leaves everyone around him on the edge of their toes, wondering what his next antic will be. One second he may be in an intense fight with a curse, overtaking them without a drop of sweat; the next, he might as well be spending hundreds on sweet treats he insists he needs in order to survive a second longer. While he is widely well respected for his powerful abilities and techniques, he is also commonly viewed as childish and immature. Upon first impression, one may incorrectly interpret his behavior into thinking he is on drugs - how else can he be so... out there? Yuuji once described his teacher as 'unseriously unserious' - a truly apt description.

So when Gojo struts into the door of your shared bedroom, an excited smile on his face with his hands hiding whatever he's holding behind him, you know something is up.

"Honey, I'm home!" Gojo cheesily announces his presence, entering your apartment in search of you.

""m in here," you lazily call out to him from the bedroom. You had been relaxing in your shared room after a long week, waiting for your husband to come home and alleviate all of your worries as only he can do.

You hear footsteps growing closer to the door, each step more excited than the last. The door swings open and reveals the white-haired man with an almost animatedly wide smile. His hands are behind his back, holding something, you presume. He looks more excited than he normally does coming home to you - and that is saying a lot for your Satoru. It is always his favorite thing to come home to your presence. You are sure of this, so why is he extra giddy today?

"Hi, pretty girl," he greets sheepishly. "Long day?"

"Toru," you remark, excitedly dragging the end of the name only you are allowed to call him. "Yeah, I'm exhausted. Feels like this is the first time I've had time to relax in forever. How was work for you?" You move to sit up from your position in bed as you spoke, resting your head on the palm of your hand, your elbow leaning on the pillow next to you to give you a better look at the handsome man in front of you.

The evening sun tickles you through the bright window next to you, granting you an angelic golden glow. Gojo feels every beat of his heart to the point he contemplates the likelihood of it to explode out of his chest - and, if anything, at least his cause of death would be from your beauty, because he doesn't think anything else could ever even kill him. The sight of you laying down in your bed, in the home you share, in the life you have built together, with the love you share so deeply, makes Gojo so excited. He just wants to dote on you all night, an eternity of worshipping you being all he dreams off. Satoru savors the moment he takes to admire you. How is it even possible that not even his six eyes can comprehend how beautiful you are?

Nonetheless, Gojo is on a mission and could not get too distracted this early on, or he would never get around to convincing you of participating in his plan for the two of you tonight. Even if you look so cuddly and cute wrapped in your blanket and all cozy in bed, or even if he wants to jump right in with you and snuggle the night away. He has plans he must stick to - urgent plans.

"It was like usual. Y'know, trained a little, threw the kids around some, yada yada. The boring stuff," he begins, walking toward you as he speaks. He sits on the edge of the bed with his hands lingering behind him in an attempt to keep them hidden from you. "But, now that I am home to my beautiful wife I love with my entire heart, soul, and all six of my eyes, I have something to share with you!"

You smile as you sense your cheeks warm, shaking your head and responding, "What are you scheming this time?" You were much used to his tendencies to act in the spur of the moment, like the one time he convinced you to teleport halfway across the world with him to be tourists in New York City on a random Tuesday work night. You reach your arm toward one of Satoru's to attempt to bring whatever he's hiding to light, or even, really, just feel his touch, but his infinity doesn't permit you to get as close as you wish. You frown and look up at him in curiosity; he usually never has his infinity on with you.

"Patience is a cashew, darling. Wait, and you shall receive, or whatever those sayings are," Gojo confidently speaks as you hold back giggles at his misspoken proverbs. His eyes anxiously scan your figure before he continues, "It doesn't matter what they actually say anyway because of what I have brought home to share with you!"

You try to cut in to ask what he means, but he continues speaking over you in a rush. to get his next words out. His hands quickly leave his back, coming back together and presenting a little white box to you, all while he is blurting, "Shokogavemesomeediblestotrywithyou!" Gojo tilts his head, a cute, toothy smile beaming in your direction and opens the box containing delicious brownies to display them for you.

You are taken aback - not because you were against the of edibles with Gojo, nor because of Shoko's part in this. This isn't the first time the topic of edibles or anything regarding that has arisen. Satoru and you had done your fair share of partaking in that realm, like your monthly "baked baking" nights with Shoko or Suguru's failed attempts at growing hemp in his dorm at Jujutsu High. This is a normal concept for the two of you; your confusion is caused by what the special occasion seems to be causing him to propose the brownies in such a way. It's not your anniversary, nor is it a holiday. Why does he look like he has something else up his sleeve?

"She did now?" you responded with a teasing smile. "What, did she get tired of waiting for me to be able to schedule a baking day?"

"Oh, no, don't worry, baby. She just knew you were exhausted and wanted to cheer you up if she could," your husband smiles at you. You smile back, but feel there is something else Satoru wants to say. He continues, "I mean, she only knew because I was worried about you and gave her the idea to make them for us as a way of telling you how proud I am of you."

Ah, there it is. You were waiting for him to take all of the credit for his act of kindness. You note to thank Shoko later and try to come up with a day that works for the two of you ASAP. You have missed her in your recent busy weeks.

"Tonight, we are going to eat these brownies, watch movies, and relax. And then, we are going to sleep in in the morning and get our beauty sleep. No ifs, ands, or buts. Is that alright with you, baby?" Gojo queries.

"Of course, Toru," you hum. Ever since he opened the box to show you what it held, it had been a yes, but he had been so excited that you wanted his adorableness in the moment to last a little longer. "How could I ever say no to you?"

"Easy question: you can't," he quips.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm aware. Now hand one over."

"Sweets, do you know how much I fucking love you?"

-----

A bit over an hour later, the two of you sit across from each other on the floor of your kitchen, music faintly playing in the background. While you may claim otherwise, the effects of the brownie from earlier were definitely making their appearance. Everything was now extremely funny and embarrassing memories from high school were being shared between the two of you.

You cross your legs over the tiles beneath you and the cold of the floor lightly tickles your thighs. "Do you remember," you begin, struggling to hold back your laughter, "the first time we met?"

"Of course I do. It was love at first sight," Satoru muses. He sighs dramatically, placing his arms behind him for support to lean back on. He crosses one of his insanely long legs over the other one, stretching them to be beside your figure. Gojo closes his eyes with a ruminative smile overtaking his features before "The second I saw you from across the courtyard, I fell deep. No going back."

"Not me," you confess, although he already knows your love story by heart. "You were so annoying! I remember at one point, I was so overwhelmed, I told Suguru to get you a leash to keep you away for at least an hour or two."

"You are hurting my heart," Gojo feigns sadness. He brings his hand to his chest as if to make sure his heart was still there. "I knew we had something real special from the moment I met you. Just couldn't get away from you"

You think back to Gojo sauntering over to you as you were listening to music, sitting peacefully alone against a tree. He oh-so arrogantly walked across the entire field, abandoning his friends mid-conversation in preference of getting to know you. He introduced himself and sent you with a flirty wink you could only awkwardly smile back at. He already was a lot, but bearable; that was true, at least, until he decided to invade your personal space you cherished so much and sat next to you against the tree.

"Yeah, is that why you ripped my earbud out of my ear and shamed my music taste?" you jest.

"Your fault for listening to Hollaback Girl so casually," Gojo quips in return.

"How else was I supposed to hype myself up for the first day at a new school?" you giggle as you speak. "Although, looking back, it was an interesting choice."

"So interesting, it made me go bananas for you," he teases. He taps your knee with his own as a laugh escapes you. His hand grabs yours, toying with the gemstone mounted on your finger; a proud symbol of your eternal promise of unity. "And now, you're my wife, so clearly, it was a foolproof way to make you fall in love with me!"

"And your humility really helped your case," you lightheartedly jab at him while typing on your phone to add a new song to the queue.

"Oh, yeah, that too. Y'know, I've always thought I have a good sense of humor," Gojo brags until he hears the background shift from a low-key vibe to the upbeat anthem that was currently bringing the two you so much nostalgia - Hollaback Girl.

"Dance with me!" you jump to your feet, grabbing your husband's hand and tugging him to follow you. You move to a more open space out of the kitchen and in the living room, pretending to do cheerleading moves to match the music. The two of you work together to queue more songs, being your own DJs for your two person dance party. You get lost in the music together, the other's presence being all you need.

Eventually, you both decide to grab some water.

"Missed you. Missed your cute lil' laugh," Gojo confesses as you grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Toru, you've seen me every day this week," you respond, tossing the water to him, grabbing another for yourself, and closing the fridge. Satoru swiftly catches the water and nears to you. A sigh escapes him as he wraps his arms around your waist.

"And? We don't get us time as often as we used to," he whines into the embrace. Letting go so he can look at your face, he brushes hair out of your eyes. His rests his palm on your cheek, speaking, "You gotta take more time to yourself. I was getting worried."

"You're saying that as if you're not the Strongest,' you respond with a lighthearted giggle. You love how he worries about you - it is just another way he shows you how much he loves you. He is the Strongest, that much is true. It is not a light weight for him to have on his shoulders, yet, he still worries about how you - a Grade One sorcerer, less powerful than him by a landslide, nothing really "special" about you like how Gojo is - are doing. He bears the weight of the world, so much expected from him solely due to some unique traits he was born with. Still, somehow, he makes you feel like the only thing that matters in the history of the universe itself. How can one person live with a pressure such as the one he holds, yet still be so loving toward you?

"'m serious, baby. You've been doing so much. A break every now and then doesn't hurt," he smiles at you. Leaning in closer to you, he whispers, "Got it?"

"Got it," you whisper back. Gojo takes the opportunity to connect his lips to yours for a quick kiss. After several over-exaggerated kisses to your lips, he moves to kiss every inch of your phase. Not a spot goes untouched, as if this were the last time he would ever be this close to you. Every square inch of you, because there are not enough ways in the world to show just how much he loves you.

Laughing at his antics and him continuing , you giggle before you say, "Love you, Toru."

He kisses one of your cheeks, saying "And I," another kiss to your forehead, "totally," another one to the opposite cheek, "love," another to the tip of your nose, "you," one to your chin, "more." He gently places one last kiss to your lips, your face flushed from his smother of affection.

He pulls back, a small whimper leaving your mouth from the lack of his warmth. His lovesick smile is all you can see, and you wish nothing more than to stay in this moment forever.

But Satoru, once again, has other plans for the two of you.

"Raid the kitchen for some snacks with me?" he says as he poses slightly, a goofy look to his face as he waits for you to grab his now outstretched hand.

"I'd love to, kind sir," you say in a fake posh accent. After giving him a quick curtsy, Satoru uses raises both of your arms to spin you. He smoothly pulls you into his arms so that he is hugging you from behind.

"M'lady," he begins into your ear, "you must know that I have been struck by the most dangerous disease known to mankind."

"Oh dear! What has ailed you?" You gasp, turning to face Gojo. His arms embrace your waist lightly as he sways you back and forth to the music.

He leans down so his lips are right at your ear, his voice low as he answers, "I got a bad case of..." he takes a deep breath, "the munchies!" Gojo begins to tickle your sides and you squirm in his grasp.

"To-Toru! Stop!" you say between laughs. "It tickles!"

"That's the point, sweets!" he says, but stops anyway and moves to his main objective. Gojo is already halfway across the kitchen before he finishes saying, "C'mon, babe! I'm getting hungrier by the second and I got extra sweets at the market earlier when training Megumi that I am dying to eat right this second."

Not even ten minutes pass and the fridge is wide open, yelling at you and Satoru to shut it. The pantry is open and the freezer is starting to sweat from how long you have been searching through it already. You are starting to think that maybe, you have been infected with the munchies as well. Everything was looking delicious.

Satoru is eating from a bag of jumbo marshmallows he had in the pantry for s'mores with Shoko and Suguru next weekend, but he figures that he can just run to the store tomorrow, because these were so sweet it was addicting. You finally close the freezer, having found your favorite ice cream Gojo had picked up for you beneath all of the other pints. You shut the fridge as well, but only after grabbing the bowl of fruit you had cut for yourself for a snack earlier.

"Thank God. That thing was so annoying," Gojo says regarding the incessant beeping of the refrigerator, his words all muffled from the marshmallows in his mouth.

"Sorry, baby. Couldn't find where I put my fruit earlier. Can you pass me a spoon?" You request.

"Course," Satoru nods and uses his free hand to open the drawer beside him and slides the spoon across the counter. You move to grab it before it slides off of the counter, but you miss. The spoon plummets to the ground with a little ding when it connects to the tiles you were sitting on not too long ago.

That's when the laughter started.

You kneel over, hand covering your mouth as you begin to laugh. Gojo is doing the same from his side of the counter, about to fall to the ground. A little snort escapes you, causing Gojo to laugh even harder. You look like little kids with how much you are laughing over the tiniest thing.

"Whoops!," your husband eventually manages to wheeze out.

If you didn't know any better, you might think you have been laughing for hours before you can finally catch your breath again. Gojo keeps clumsily knocking things over, and every time you think you are about to calm down to a rational level, he does another thing that was just so funny. It's a neverending cycle.

You feel like you are having an out of body experience, with your skin tingling and your mind afloat. You have forgotten at this point what you are laughing at in preference of eating your ice cream. It tastes amazing and you do not think there is anything in the world you have had that compares to the pint you are digging from.

Your ice cream is so delicious that you have zoned out for who-know's-how-long. Between scooping ice cream from the container and staring brainlessly at the counter in front of you, you figure the brownie has made it's way through your system by now.

Gojo is quiet beside you, which is rather abnormal form him. When you finally find the strength to pull yourself out of your daze, you look over to see him floating around, practically bouncing off of the walls. His eyes are closed and he looks at peace, but he is bouncing like a TV logo after a movie has been paused for too long.

You place the lid back on your ice cream and put everything back where you got it before questioning, "Toru, baby? You good?" He smiles at your voice, pulling down his blindfold that has become such a part of his identity. His eyes glow, which almost distracts you from the way he looks so... thoughtless.

"Mhm, all good, lovie," he says happily.

"What you doin' over there?"

"Just hanging around," he says, flipping upside down midair, a cheesy smile on his face. You can tell he has recollected himself from whatever meditative trance he was only moments before now.

You start walking toward your bedroom, saying "Well, I'm gonna lay down if you wanna join!"

Immediately, you hear a thump indicating his feet hit the ground and the sound of steps rushing after you.

-----

"Mmmmmmmm," Gojo moans out. "They are so soft and squishy." He lays in bed with you, one arm resting behind his neck, and the other around you laying against his side. He uses the free hand not behind his neck in order to reache back into the bag of marshmallows and stuff more into his mouth. "Like fluffy clouds I can chew."

You lift your head from it's spot on his shirtless chest and smile up at him. A bowl of freshly popped popcorn sits on the bedside table (your husband cooked it up for you when you said you never watch a movie without some popcorn), easy access to quench your seemingly never-ending hunger. A rom-com plays, neither of you really paying attention to it, preferring each other's presence instead.

"You talk about all your sweets like that?" you tease.

"No..." Gojo says suspisciously. "Never. Mostly. Only sometimes."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm sure," you roll your eyes in an exaggerated manner.

"Don't worry, you're my favorite sweet," he reassures and leans in closer to you. "Always."

Satoru's lips are so close to your own. The ones that told you "I do", the ones that whisper sweet nothings after a long week like this past one, the ones that tease you relentlessly.

"Mhm, always," you repeat, but all you can think is how you want him.

His lips are the softest thing you have ever felt touch yours. You think about the first time you kissed back in high school; it truly is crazy how velvety his still feel against your own. His lips gently press onto yours, speaking a language only the two of you can comprehend. A sense of urgency increases the tempo of the song you create together. He nips at the bottom of your lip, and you let our a small whimper while his tongue takes the opportunity to enter your mouth.

He tastes like sugar.

He leaves one last lingering kiss on your lips, then separates to tell you, "You seem happy."

"A little," you agree, flustered and missing his lips on yours. "Thanks for helping me relax. Means a lot to me."

"Anytime, princess. Say the word, I will drop everything to help you out. Even if you don't say anything, I'll still try and help. I just love you too much," he responds.

"I love you, too."

"Aw, you're so cute, babe. So obsessed with me. I need to take a picture and show everyone how bad you're down for me," he coos, causing you to shy away.

"Toru, stop! You did you even hear yourself? If anyone is down bad, it's you!" you defend.

"I mean, you did marry me, so I'd say it's you," he teases back.

"You married me, too!"

"Awwwwe! So cute all angry! Pose for the camera!"

Bonus

With a box of Shoko's favorite mochi in one hand, you use the other to open the door into her office.

"Shoko!" You exclaim as she says your name, running to hug you. She smells faintly of cigarette smoke, causing you to feel guilty for not checking in with her as much as you usually do. Her smoking tends to get more frequently depending on her stress level.

You hand her the box of mochi, saying, "Here, take these."

"Ugh, my favorite. Thank you," she says. "Did Gojo's special plan go well?"

"I'm assuming that was all your idea?" you laugh.

"Kinda. It was honestly more of a selfish thing on my end. Satoru had been visiting me every hour while you were on missions and I figured he could use them to chill out," Shoko groans. You smile at the though of your husband being so worried about you while you were gone, even though you were texting him updates the entire time. "You gotta stop leaving me to deal with him alone."

"He's such a big baby sometimes," you chuckle. "He did say something kinda smart the other night, though."

"Oh, no," Shoko says as she prepares herself for whatever is about to come out of your mouth.

"We should make a 'bakery' business and name it 'Edible Arrangements'!" you announce. You fan your hands out as if emphasizing the proposal - one that you definitely were not serious about, just trying to humor your husband.

"You two are helpless."

-----

i always struggle with how to wrap things up so im sorry it was kind of abrupt but i hope you like it !!!! thank u for readingggg. again im still learning and didnt really proofread so my apologies for mistakes or anything but yeah love uuu

[mimisempai]

I'll find you at the end of the road - Chap 3/8

Chapter summary

Through the mysterious mailbox, Crowley and Aziraphale get to know each other and their bond grows stronger...

On Ao3

Rating G -  3764 words

Chap 1 - Chap 2 - Chap 3 - Chap 4 - Chap 5 - Chap 6 - Chap 7 - Last chapter

April 15, 2024 - 7:00 a.m.

Crowley, his heart beating a little faster than usual, approached the mailbox from which the flag was raised.

He opened the flap and unfolded the note with slightly shaking fingers.

Thank you for this lovely gesture. I haven't stopped wearing it since I received it. But how did you know that tartan is one of my favorite things?

You tell me that this connection with me allows you to open up to others and not feel alone, and you ask me if I want to continue this correspondence?

I don't want to stop either! I feel the benefits in my life as much as you do.

I don't know if we'll ever meet, but I want to keep getting to know you and for you to get to know me.

Let me know what you like, what you don't like, what makes you tick, whatever you feel like writing.

Sincerely.

Aziraphale.

Crowley, not realizing he was holding his breath, let out a sigh of relief, tucked the letter in his pocket, and left. He had to get to work before he could write. It was no longer a matter of writing a short note; he wanted to take the time to think before he could answer Aziraphale.

As he walked through the school gates a few hours later, even though he loved his job, for once he couldn't wait for the day to be over.

April 17, 2022

Aziraphale was reading Crowley's latest letter, a steaming cup of tea beside him, sitting in what had become his special Crowley corner, the armchair in front of the bay window.

As for the tartan, I was really acting on a hunch, I saw this scarf and thought you'd like it.

A little more about me: 

I became an astronomy teacher because I've always loved the stars and planets. I lived in a country village as a child and was fascinated by the night sky.

My favorite color is red, although I pretty much only wear black.

My favorite spirit is Talisker and I love spicy food.

Queen is the best band! (I won't accept any arguments to the contrary).

My favorite book is Persuasion by Jane Austen.

I love to drive my old Bentley. 

I'm afraid of fire.

I can't stand cruelty, condescension, and lying, especially people who lie to themselves.

And I hate people who feed bread to ducks (it's not good for them).

I love the lake house.

Aziraphale laughed slightly at the humorous tone of the letter, then finished his tea before fetching his notepad to begin writing his reply.

April 19, 2024

Crowley, sitting cross-legged on his sofa, Harry curled up in a ball on his lap, read the latest letter from Aziraphale.

I love old things, especially old books. In my antique shop, the only thing I refuse to sell are old books. I prefer to keep them for myself.

I love restoring old furniture and objects to their former glory.

I also drive an old car, an old yellow Beetle from 1941.

My favorite book is Pride and Prejudice, but Persuasion is a close second.

I listen to my favorite classical music on an old gramophone, but I also have Queen records. (Which I listen to sometimes and I won't deny that they are the best band).

I like to draw, or rather make sketches that I never finish. 

My favorite drink is sherry and occasionally a good glass of French red wine from Bordeaux. I love sweets more than anything and especially French crêpes.

I also dislike lies, prejudices, and gratuitous meanness - well, just plain meanness.

I also like the lake house. A lot. A lot. (All the more, since it seems to be what made our connection possible.)

As for the ducks, what should I feed them if I see any on the lake? 

How did you come to live at the lake house? 

Crowley reread the letter, folded it, and placed it in the small metal box where he'd put the others before going to bed and thinking about what he'd answer the next day.

April 21, 2022

It was a day of rest, and Aziraphale was still in his bathrobe when he left the house to see if there was any mail. He was pleasantly surprised to see that Crowley had already replied, if the little flag was to be believed. He refused to think about the fact that his heartbeat had quickened for that reason, attributing it to the fact that he'd been walking a little faster than usual.

He took the letter and read it over his breakfast, Harry munching on a lettuce leaf at his feet.

Frozen peas. The ducks love them and it's good for them. 

I rented the lake house after I graduated from university. I needed some space and peace.

It was the strangest place I'd ever seen. 

I couldn't imagine anyone building it. In fact, I couldn't imagine anyone building it and not living in it. I liked the way it seemed to float above the water. I liked the path that led to it. I don't know why, it has a strange, timeless charm.

April 23, 2024

Crowley, during a break between classes, took Aziraphale's answer out of his pocket and read it again.

I now have a bag of frozen peas in my freezer. I'm ready for the ducks. 

Regarding the lake house, I so agree with you.

The fact that you have to walk so much to get to the front door, it's like you have to earn the right to enter the house. Every time I walk up the path, it's like I'm on a quest, and the prize is the right to enter.

I'm sorry, I must sound a little eccentric. 

April 24, 2022

During his lunch break and throughout the day, Aziraphale read and reread the last words from Crowley.

Please don't apologize. Not to me for being who you are. 

You can be eccentric. You can be anything you want.

Aziraphale had always felt different, in both his personal and professional life choices, never accepted by his own family for who he was, so Crowley's words eased some of his inner struggles. 

He couldn't ignore the warm feeling in his chest at this affirmation from someone he'd never met.

There was someone in this world who accepted him for who he was.

You can be anything you want.

A few weeks passed as Crowley and Aziraphale continued their strange correspondence. 

It was late spring now, and yet the wind was blowing strongly on this early morning in London as Crowley walked briskly to the academy. 

As he always did these days, he smiled at the thought of Aziraphale's latest letter, already thinking of what he would write back. 

His phone began to vibrate in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughts, and he reached for it to answer the call.

Seeing the name on the screen, he said in a cold voice, "Yes?" 

He held back a sigh of annoyance as he listened to his caller and then replied, "Look, this isn't easy for me either. You know... no, I'm not angry that you called. It's just that... I'm sorry, I have to go to work and I..."

He approached the school and didn't want to continue this conversation as more and more students entered.

After listening to the arguments on the other end of the line, he replied firmly, "I don't think that's a good idea. No, Furfur, I'm asking you not to come. Because we need more time... Especially if we want to stay friends. I just don't think we should... Look, I'm on my way to work, so we'll talk. Bye."

Crowley sighed again and shook his head as he walked out the large front door.

"Don't tell me you've lost your motivation already."

Crowley looked up and, meeting Mrs. Tracy's gaze, replied, the smile back on his lips, "Absolutely not."

"That's fortunate. Eric has the flu and we need someone to cover his classes while he's out. Since your resume says you majored in art, I was wondering if..."

"No problem! I'm happy to oblige. Just don't blame me for associating it with astronomy." 

"I'm already happy to have someone, I'm not going to be picky. You can check Eric's schedule with the assistant and then make arrangements. Thank you, Crowley, really. If it weren't for the exams, I wouldn't have asked you."

Crowley replied kindly, his expression open to show her he meant it sincerely, "No worries, really."

On the contrary, he was pleased to see that even though he was the last to arrive, he was trusted.

However, at the end of the week, when he came home with his arms full of groceries, he thought maybe he should have thought before saying yes, because he was literally exhausted. He hadn't realized how much time and energy it would take to do the work of two people.

Luckily, Eric was back at work by Monday. 

But despite his exhaustion, nothing could stop him from going looking for Aziraphale's letter, which must have been waiting for him at the lake house for days.

Less than two hours and a few speeding violations later, he parked in front of the mailbox in a cloud of dust, and a few seconds later, leaning against his car, he eagerly read the letter.

Hello, pen pal. 

It's been a while since you last wrote. 

I hope all is well.

Several words were crossed out before the letter continued in Aziraphale's elegant handwriting.

It's ridiculous, just a few words to write, and it makes me sound like a babbling teenager (if there's such a thing as sound when it comes to a letter).

Well, I'll write it: I MISS YOU

It was obvious that the last words had been written with determination, probably as much for the author as for the recipient.

Crowley felt a strange warmth in his chest. He, too, had missed the correspondence, more, he had missed Aziraphale's words, so he hurried to reply and put the letter in the box before heading home.

Parking the car in front of the mailbox, Aziraphale decided to ignore the butterflies in his stomach when he saw the little flag raised.

He took the letter out of the box, and once he was home and Harry was fed, the antiquarian went to his favorite spot to read it.

It's been a tough week.

I've had to take a sick colleague's classes and have only had the strength to go to bed at night (and feed Harry, of course), and I feel like it's been a century since I've looked at the sky or seen a bloody tree. That's what I miss. The nature that surrounded me at the lake house.

It's not so bad when I'm busy. It's when I have a minute to breathe, to look around, that it seems really hard. 

I wonder what I'm doing here, alone, in this gray city. I miss the trees.

PS: I missed you too. A lot.

June 15, 2022 - 7:00 pm 

Aziraphale left the house with a medium-sized tree and gardening tools in the trailer attached to the Beetle and headed for London.

June 15, 2022 - 8:55 p.m.

Arriving at Crowley's address, in front of the construction site he'd seen the other night with Muriel, Aziraphale parked the Beetle. He took out a shovel, put on the gardening gloves he had in his pocket, and after finding the ideal spot in front of the construction site where Crowley's future home would be, began digging a hole.  With the help of a rope and a lot of sweat, he managed to get the tree into the hole and covered its roots with the soil and potting soil he'd brought.

Half an hour later, at 9:30 p.m., he stood in front of his work with his hands on his hips and said quietly, "I hope this will work."

June 15, 2024 - 9:30 pm

Halfway between the school and his apartment, Crowley saw rain gathering in the sky and began to pick up his pace as he realized he didn't have an umbrella. Suddenly, a rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance, and as he ran almost the entire distance to his apartment, the rain began to fall.

Of course, he was completely soaked as he ran the last few meters to the front door of the building. He fumbled for his keys, dropped them, and grew increasingly frustrated as the rain poured down on him, when suddenly it stopped. 

Which surprised him because it seemed to be falling everywhere around him except on him.

He looked up.

Above him, the thick green branches of a young tree formed a canopy that swayed in the rain just above Crowley. That tree hadn't been there a second ago, but now it was sheltering him, and Crowley stared at it, mouth agape.

June 15, 2022 - 9:37 p.m.

Aziraphale smiles as he tosses the shovel into the Beetle's trailer before heading home.

June 15, 2024 - 9:37 pm

Crowley, overcome with emotion, smiled broadly and, knowing that only Aziraphale could be responsible for it, whispered to him, though the other man could not hear him, "Thank you, my friend."

Raindrops fell through the green branches, but Crowley didn't care as he danced with joy under the tree, his face turned skyward.

2022 - A few days later

Muriel stood on the small path in front of the lake house and exclaimed, "Wow!"

Aziraphale motioned for them to follow him inside, and Muriel entered, still stunned by the house, before asking, "So this is where you've been hiding?"

Aziraphale smiled back, "Yes. Would you like some tea or something stronger?"

Muriel replied quietly as they looked around, "Tea is perfect."

Aziraphale took two cups from the cupboard, poured the tea and they sat down in the chairs in front of the bay window. 

They talked for a while about the new house, for Muriel, as usual, had a lot of questions and Aziraphale was happy to answer them.

Muriel finished their cup of tea, put it down, and with a more serious expression, they said quietly, "Aziraphale. I didn't just come here to escape my miserable existence in the city. I've come to talk to you about HH and to ask you to come back with us. We need you."

Aziraphale shook his head vigorously, "HH? Sorry, Muriel, but no."

His friend insisted, "But if you talk to her..."

"Forget it, Mother doesn't want me back. I don't want to come back. Everybody's happier now."

Muriel argued anyway, "What about your work? Your work was great. Even she admitted that. Look, I know it's hard, but if you put aside your problems with her..."

"I said forget it," Aziraphale replied, this time in a firm tone before softening, "I'm really sorry, Muriel. It's just that... I like it here. And I like my job at the shop."

Muriel replied gently with a slightly sheepish look, "At least I tried," then after a few seconds they asked with a mischievous twinkle in their eyes, "Are you seeing anyone?"

After a slight hesitation that didn't go unnoticed, Aziraphale shook his head.

"Why did you hesitate?"

"I didn't hesitate."

"Yes, you did."

Aziraphale said in a voice he knew was a little unconvincing, "I... I'm not committed to anyone, okay?"

"Okay," Muriel replied, smiling amusedly before continuing, "I'm just saying you might want to think about the future."

Aziraphale laughed. 

He couldn't stop himself. 

Think about the future.

For God's sake, he was communicating with someone who lived two years in the future.

Muriel looked at him as if he'd gone mad, "What?"

Aziraphale continued to laugh.

"What?"

A few days later, with Crowley's letter open in the passenger seat of his Beetle, Aziraphale drove to Waterloo East Station, near Westminster School. 

He parked, picked up the letter, and got out, heading for the station entrance.

About the same time, two years ago, I lost something. 

At Waterloo East station.

I was taking the train home to my parents and left it on the platform. See if you can find it for me. I won't tell you what it is. 

Then drop it in the mailbox. 

It's your mission if you decide to accept it.

The exact date and time is on the back of the letter.

Aziraphale couldn't resist a challenge, so he found himself searching for an object he knew nothing about. He wandered around the station, scanning the few people who were there. 

He looked for a single man and saw none. Only a few families and an elderly couple. 

He continued his search when suddenly, through the window overlooking the platform, he saw a man with short red hair get up and prepare to board the train.

Aziraphale's heart leapt, he wasn't sure if it was Crowley, but he had this deep intuition that it was, and if it was, oh my God, his pen pal was incredibly handsome. 

Aziraphale hurried through the door to the platform where he was standing and was about to approach him when he stopped abruptly.

The red-haired man was embracing another curly-haired man who had his back to Aziraphale. 

They kissed quickly and embraced again before parting.  

Neither of them noticed that Crowley, for it was undoubtedly Crowley, had left a book on the bench behind them. Aziraphale had seen it, but he didn't dare come any closer and decided to wait and watch, a slight twinge in his heart that he chose to ignore.

A voice over the loudspeaker announced the train's imminent departure.

Crowley gave the other man a sad smile before boarding the train, obviously reluctantly.

The one who appeared to be Crowley's lover didn't move and watched the train pull away until it was completely out of sight. He didn't notice the book. Aziraphale watched him go, and when he was far away, he approached the bench. He looked at the book that Crowley had left behind. It was a well-worn copy of Jane Austen's Persuasion. 

It had definitely been Crowley.

Crowley impatiently made his way to the mailbox, thinking that Aziraphale might already have gone to the station. He was not deterred when he saw the small flag raised.

He opened it, disappointed not to see the book, but only a note. With just one question.

What are you doing on July 1st?

Crowley replied immediately on the same piece of paper, and just as he was about to leave, he heard the characteristic sound of a small flag being raised and returned to the mailbox and opened it. He grabbed the note and unfolded it.

C: I have no plans. Why do you ask?

A: If you remember, the village celebrates summer with fireworks on the lake. 

Would you like to watch them together? 

From the lake house. The fireworks on the lake are wonderful.

C: I know, I used to watch them from the house when I lived there. You're not asking me out, are you?

A: No, no. I just thought it would be nice to do the same thing, that's all.

C: The same, but two years apart.

A: It's better than staying home.

C: Okay. Let's go see the fireworks.

A: See you in 10 days. 

July 1st at 10 p.m. in front of the mailbox.

Aziraphale didn't wait for an answer and walked happily back into the house. Even though he'd denied it, it still felt like a date of sorts. Perhaps Crowley would agree to tell him more about his mysterious companion. 

July 1, 2022/2024 - 10 p.m.

Two years apart, in the same spot, Crowley and Aziraphale sat next to the mailbox. Aziraphale brought one of the chairs from the garden and Crowley brought an old folding camping seat from his car.

They were both armed with notepads and pencils.

The strange, timeless conversation resumed, still punctuated by the little flag going up and down.

C: Did you go to the train station? I never got my book. You're not going to keep it like all your old books, are you?

A: Let me keep it for a while. I want to read it. By the way, I've been meaning to ask you.

Who was the other man at the train station? Was he your boyfriend?

Why didn't you tell me about him?

The way the questions were asked gave Crowley the impression that Aziraphale was jealous, but he didn't want to get the wrong idea.

C: You don't talk to me about your love life either.

A: Because I don't have one. God, I can't believe you didn't tell me you were married.

C: I'm not married, you idiot. We split up when I moved to London.

I'm single now.

The fireworks have just started.

A: They've started here too.

I'm sure yours are better because they're supposed to get better every year. 

C: Probably. Let's enjoy the show.

Then, during the fireworks, the flag didn't move for a while. But the noise did not drown out the sound of their hearts beating in their ears.

Then, as the last bouquet ended and silence fell, the flag suddenly rose, startling Crowley.

A: At the station, when I saw you... I didn't expect... I mean, you didn't tell me you were gorgeous...

Crowley gasped, then blushed at the compliment. He looked around, embarrassed, even though he knew no one was there.

C: That's not fair. 

You've seen me, but I still don't know what you look like.

Aziraphale ran his hand over his face and figured that since it was the night of truth, he might as well go for it.

A: You're right. 

I would like to know what I'll look like in two years. Why don't we meet in the future and you can tell me what you think? 

Crowley thought, then looked at his watch; it was 10:43 p.m. He took a deep breath, suddenly excited and nervous, then wrote quickly.

C: Why don't you call me on July 1, 2024 at 10:45 p.m.?

Just as Crowley was about to raise the flag after dropping the note in the mailbox, the phone in his pocket began to vibrate, nearly knocking him out of his chair.

Heart pounding, without looking at it, he pulled the phone out of his pocket and picked it up, "Hello?"

_________

A damaged author can't write the next chapter... so don't hit me for this cliffhanger...

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

[fatuismooches]

greetings!!! this is the first time i've ever shared my idea to anyone, kind of worry but guess that i have to share it with you because your writings are so good and i love how you execute scenarios and ideas (literally awake all night scrolling through your brainrot 😭😭😭😭)

let me tell you that fragile!reader and dottore is what keeps me awake at night i love them so much, i literally read everything in the tags, the fluff and angst is SOO GOOD NGL.

so, angst/ no comfort (because i love tormenting myself (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆), fragile!reader and terminal lucidity - somebody suddenly became lively and conscious before their deaths. i see that you have written about fragile!reader whose memories are slowly deteriorating or slowly losing their eyesight. imagine one day, everything just come back...normal, the sudden recollection of memories, vision returned miraculously, no pain, no suffering, as if they were back to the days at Akademiya. they became gleeful, happy, full of live, no longer the gloomy, sick-ridden individual.

Dottore, of course, was surprised at this phenomenal, run more tests and check-ups just to be sure that we are actually healthy because there is no way we actually turn healthy after being sick in centuries. the segments however, especially Zandy, didn't think much about the whole ordeal. you are fine!! you can finally walking and running freely without being on life-support. your turn in health manage to turned them into a bunch of joyful, blue-haired maniacs with giddy, happy smiles on their lips.

we are fine for a few weeks, which also make Dottore himself believe that maybe, maybe his efforts have paid off, maybe our health have been stable, and maybe from now on, he could spend the rest of eternity with his beloved.

then we die (this is so mean i'm so sorry 😭😭😭😭😭). how they perish is completely up you but i'd preferably that they die in their sleep, a peaceful death. Dottore and the segments are... well, shocked is an understatement, their whole world have...gone, they'd question themself: how can this happen? you were fine in the past few weeks? In which Dottore blame himself the most, he shouldn't have believed that we were fine, he should have run more test, he should have been more cautious about the whole situation but now he completely felt... helpless, for the first time in millions of years. the only person who went thick and thin, the person that can tolerate him in the Akademiya days and the person that he can tolerate now have passed away.

(the ending is kind if short because idk what else to say since my vocabulary and grammar is rather limited. i hope this would be sufficient 😭😭😭😭😭 also looking forward on how you react to this. for now i'll just cry myself to sleep with this scenario while waiting for your work ❤️🥰)

- 🪷

It would come out of nowhere, no one expected it, no one believed it in the beginning. After all, over four hundred years of debilitating illness makes it hard for anyone to believe something good finally happened. But it does, when you first wake up you can feel that something is different - you definitely do some test runs in your room, picking up objects that were once too heavy for you, simple actions that no longer left you tired, no more aches or pains, it was marvelous. So obviously with your newfound energy, you sprint out to find anyone, hell even a random agent would do, because you're finally free. (You can already hear the voices of the segments - no running in the lab because of the very obvious dangers.)

Naturally, Dottore is very skeptical of this, yes, he does not trust how his heart beats at the sight of your glowing self putting on a little performance for him to show how healthy you are now, he can't bring himself to. He's witnessed how low you could become from the worst stages of your sickness, so although he's more than happy to see you well, the possibility of you falling back into such a state is very high. However he cannot find anything, and you don't show any visible signs either. Even so, he still watches you very closely. It's a feeling that always nags, one that may always nag him perhaps, the thought of you becoming worse. But he's not going to damper your mood with his thoughts, you should enjoy this.

Dottore and the segments would still scold you for your recklessness but realize that you are no longer sick and frail and they no longer have to fuss over your health. It's a very strange sensation that's hard to break out of since they've been doing it for so long. But it's good! You're happy! You're strong! You're the [Name] that was buried away, come to rise to the surface once more. Let's just say Zandy very much enjoys the piggyback rides. The checkups still persist as a general measure, but they always go smoothly. It seems there's nothing to worry about.

You would want to assume your role of his assistant once again right away - it's something you've been longing for, to be able to be useful to your lover just like how you once were. To live those days of banter and sharing fascinating knowledge and listening to each other's ideas once more. And so you do, Dottore's more than happy to let you, oh how he's missed you by his side so often. He's excited, he's ready to put the past four hundred years behind and move on, his mind already racing with the countless possibilities that have opened up now. Unfortunately, they don't come to fruition.

Perhaps you felt something wasn't right but it was already far too late - on the day of your death you acted like everything was normal, carrying out your new duties, but also with a lot of added affection, visiting each segment and Dottore and kissing them with all your love. They don't think much of it, you're usually affectionate like that. If only they knew that would be the last time they were embraced by you. Little Zandy too - it would be the last time you ever hugged him and listened to you read him a story. He'd be absolutely inconsolable after your death.

With you gone, the spark in his life would be gone. It would be the same routine of his duties and experiments and research, with nothing to ease his tension. Sure, he no longer has to spend lots of time finding a cure or producing medicine, but this wasn't the way he wanted it to happen. It's the same as when you were sleeping, except this time he no longer has the anticipation of you eventually waking up. Or does he?

Resurrection is a forbidden art, but he is Il Dottore, the one who has no problem sinking his hands into what should not be done, and he is Zandik, the one who loves you. If this world wants you gone so badly, then so be it. He will simply reach for your hand and pull you back to him every time, because even if it is lifeless, he will make sure it's warm once again.

[osakisz]

when you try to kiss them on their cheek as a distraction | spirit, mastermind, legion (frank).

who needs deception, red herring or diversion as a distraction, what about a smooch instead. — this one's quite shorter than my other drafts that will probably never see the light of the day ever again. just want to put something silly out for my favorite killers <3 was gonna add our golden boys trickster and ghostface but i ran out of ideas :(( i might include them the next time i make a part 2 to this.

content: lowercase intended, partially not proofread, gender neutral reader, ambiguous as to whether or not the reader is dating the killers, spirit — dwight cameo | mastermind — basically ranting how i don't know how to navigate rpd | legion — elodie cameo, frank is a stinky tunneler.

RIN YAMAOKA | THE SPIRIT

desperate times call for desperate measures. poor dwight is on his death hook and he cannot waste any more time for his team to do their objectives. the vicinity is naked of resources for him to utilize, and you don't have a flashlight in your hands to prevent him from getting picked up.

you didn't really leave much time into brainstorming your next move, as soon after, you've heard a loud scream just near you.

and of course it had to be dwight, if only you weren't so finicky with using pallets in the area, he would've last longer.

dwight and rin are out in the open, which could've been such a free blind, but you've got something else in your mind.

swooping just as rin's had dwight on her shoulder, you jumped and cupped her face, kissing her cheek, all in a rapid second.

rin's confused and stands with dwight on her shoulders. why... would you do that? doesn't know if she should be shocked or just go through with her spree while her cheeks are heating up.

dwight's just as confused as rin, he can't see anything but the dirty ground, what's going on? why is the spirit making confused noises?

you backed up afterwards and tugged your arms together behind your back, reminiscent of a child feigning to be innocent when they are being scolded.

your plan didn't work out as you planned it to be, as rin was recovering from the stunt you pulled. but she was bamboozled enough for dwight to wiggle out, in his merry way to a tile with no resources, again.

mission failed succesfully.

ALBERT WESKER | THE MASTERMIND

you're fighting for your life not to get on death hook. but lady luck didn't seem to be on your side the very moment all of you were sent to rpd.

not only do some of the corridors & rooms are barely lit, it was extremely difficult to navigate the area. where do these stairs lead to? where do these hallways lead to? why did i just came back from where i've been last time?

attempting to find refuge, you look for the rest of your teammates, but that's the problem, you can't find any of them. although it was an ideal situation for everyone to be split up and doing their own generators, that wasn't really the time for that, you need to survive as much as possible.

when you turn around a corner, you didn't expect wesker to be standing by the edge of the room, as if he knew you'd come by.

wesker chuckles, prepping the tentacle in his hand, "i've got you where i wanted..."

you have no time to take in what just happened and what is about to happen, but you refuse to not get out of your situation.

in pure panic, you shoved your open hands in front of his face, "wait! wait! wait!"

surprisingly enough, wesker is intrigued of your stalling technique, so lowers his tentacles and hears you out.

there's a suffocating tension and silence between the both of you when you just stare at each other. when you've gotten uncomfortable of the current situation you're in, you swiftly press your lips against his cheek and ran as far away as you can. it's not the best last resort manuever one can think of, but it's the only one you can think of during the moment.

wesker touches the cheek that you kissed with his gloved hand, smirking to himself. he intentionally lets you get away with it, giving you a feign hope of surviving. he'll give you time to indulge in your wishful thinking of surviving the trial before he spooks you again.

FRANK MORRISON | THE LEGION

the only killer you'd genuinely get away with something so silly.

you're trying your best to protect elodie, who has been constantly tunneled the entire game. seeing as there's one generator left, and frank is struggling to pressure the team, he might as well target a survivor and get them out of the trial before the last generator pops.

everyone, including you, is injured, thanks to frank's insane capability of injuring almost everyone swiftly.

you've been sticking with elodie after she got off from her second hook, since you nor the rest of your team has not been hooked yet, you figured you can perform a little risky and even trade hooks with elodie in any case she might be in danger.

but of course, there's little chance that your plan will work. you hear frank approaching while you're patching up elodie in the shack, so you halted the healing and gestured elodie to carefully run away from the shack. "i'll be right behind you", you encouragingly whispered to her.

when you follow right after elodie, the first thing you've noticed was that frank had already seen the both of you, yet still goes for elodie.

you rapidly stood in front of elodie with your arms raised up in attempt to guard her. she can't risk leaving the area lest she gets hit. "w—w—wait! may i interest in something, frank?", you ask the man in front of you.

he brushes off your question for a while, shoving you out of the way. "hm... sure, why not. but i'll deal with her first".

time is ticking. your go to should be to stand face to face with frank yet again, but he can easily shove you aside like previously. suddenly, as if a lightbulb has lit up above you, you attempt to execute a plan that took barely a second to figure put.

elodie runs for her life, seeing as you're too far away to help her. frank was quick to follow, confident enough to get her out of the trial and can finally manage to pressure your team. but frank's brain stops when he feels a hand grab his arm, immediately forcing him to stand still and look at you. unintentionally so, you look like you're pleading him not to kill your team, with your brows furrowed and tears welling up in your eyes, both are the results from the injury he has inflicted on you minutes ago.

frank thinks it's cute but it's not enough for him to take pity on neither you or your friends, if that was the message you were trying to convey.

he was almost out of your grip until you harshly lower his head down by tugging aggressively at his arm, placing a peck in his mask where his cheeks would lay beneath.

shortly after, the both of you look at each other in silence. your brows are still furrowed but your lips are pursed as a straight line. from the inside, frank is exploding with how adorable you look right now. he audibly stutters from embarrassed he is, but luckily it was muffled so you can't decipher what noises he's making.

elodie is long gone in the vicinity, luckily for all of you. but now you have to deal with the problem at hand, how are you going to escape the killer's grasp now? but you suppose you can endure one hook stage, considering elodie was the only one hooked throughout the trial.

you come back to your senses and entirely lose your grip in frank's arm and ran as far away as you possibly can without disturbing your team. you don't know if you're lucky or unlucky that frank hurriedly runs after you, but one thing's for sure, you hope he's after for more kisses.

luvenary on tumblr — please do not repost.

[vickyvicarious]

"it is maddening to think that of all the foul things that lurk in this hateful place the Count is the least dreadful to me; that to him alone I can look for safety, even though this be only whilst I can serve his purpose."

The above passage is from May 16 after the vampire women tried to drink his blood, as he realized. Today on May 19 Jonathan writes three letters to be sent home (to Mr Hawkins) on various days of June, the final one being for June 29, the end of his life.

The thing I expected was for Jonathan to wonder why he's being kept alive after today/May 19th. Dracula is, as Jonathan said, his safety "whilst I can serve his purpose". But what is his purpose? Dracula had all his real estate papers signed on the 12th (when he ordered Jonathan to stay extra and that he'll take no refusal). He is actually fluent in English. Now, a steady stream of letters will be sent to Exeter throughout June, pretending that Jonathan's returning home.

Dracula can just kill him now, or just give him to the vampire women. No one would know. I'm sure he wants Jonathan first, claiming him and claiming the lion's share, but not now when he has months yet to leave. Then once, as Dracula said, he's "done with him" maybe he'll leave the rest to the other vampires.

But I wonder why Jonathan isn't wondering why he's being kept alive until the end of June. I suppose a Doylist reason is to not give the possible answer away yet, Watsonian being him fearing to speculate without answers?

Yeah, I've wondered this myself in the past. I think for me it comes down to a combination of several factors, since there really is no single quote that points to a specific reason Jonathan seems so convinced.

Before I get into those, I do want to mention that it is possible there is still some business to be done. It's a popular interpretation that they finish the last of that all on May 12, and it does make sense with the timeline. I personally believe it. But technically, I don't think Jonathan ever mentions them signing the final papers. He says he answers all of Dracula's questions, but that could be just referring to the ones in that conversation: "When he had satisfied himself on these points of which he had spoken, and I had verified all as well as I could by the books available, he suddenly stood up and said:—" ...and then Dracula brings up him staying. Again, the interpretation that they finish all their work in that conversation is totally valid/likely. But if someone really wanted to argue that there is still some amount of actual legal work to be done, I don't believe canon says anything outright to the contrary.

That's not really my take though. Here are the reasons I think Jonathan believes he will survive until the end of June, in no particular order:

What Dracula said on May 16. He heard the Count drive the other vampires back with the words:

"Well, now I promise you that when I am done with him you shall kiss him at your will. Now go! go! I must awaken him, for there is work to be done."

Now, in the moment, Dracula's line about having work to do seems most likely to be a fib just to get them to go. 'I'm busy, scram,' essentially. But he is very clear that he isn't done with Jonathan yet. (Though the fib about being busy itself could suggest that he might keep Jonathan alive and away from them longer than he himself needed/wanted to, just as a taunt/power play against these vampire ladies. But that's less relevant since he clearly does seem to want him still.) As you point out, Jonathan notes it himself, that he will be able to look to Dracula for safety so long as he serves his purpose. The fact that Dracula comes back within a couple of days to get him to write these specifically dated letters I think suggests to him that he is likely to stand at least a chance of serving that purpose until those dates. At least, it seems that way given...

Jonathan knows Dracula by now. He can probably tell just how much Dracula really enjoys him, and that said enjoyment is in many ways what's keeping him alive. Probably at least to some degree in a sense of enjoying his company, and that is somewhat relevant since he can play on that to stay interesting even when he's not outright useful/needed. But also, importantly, Dracula's particular brand of sadism comes into play here. He loves his mind games and multilayered conversations. He's been making jokes about his own undead/supernatural status basically as long as Jonathan has known him. He enjoys manipulating Jonathan. He enjoys giving him orders and warnings and then watching to see if he will obey or not. Jonathan has disobeyed significantly twice already, by trying to get into all the locked rooms and by sleeping outside of his room. And while he was discovering locked doors early on just while going about his business, he made no move nor seemed to have any particular designs/likelihood to sleep outside his room until Dracula brought it up first. Maybe you could argue that he's been looking more tired/likely to nap about as this nocturnal existence becomes more telling on him, but still there was no real build-up at all to the warning. Which is just one of the many reasons I read it as intentional bait.

So, knowing how Dracula likes to throw out these sorts of hints, I think it reasonable for Jonathan to think he will live that long. It would be just like him to use these letters to subtly tell Jonathan: no one will know where to look for you when you go missing, I could kill you long before with no consequences, but why would I if you play along and please me? ...so play. along.

There's also the fact that Jonathan may know when Dracula plans to leave. Now I certainly don't think he knows his exact itinerary or anything. Probably not even the date he expects to go, and just how closely it lines up with Jonathan's final false letter. But it seems entirely reasonable to me for the topic to have come up during all their work talk. There's a very good chance Jonathan knows that Dracula is planning on leaving for England in a month or two, or even just "around midsummer", etc. And if he does, I think he could add that in with the previous two points I mentioned to reach the conclusion that Dracula intends to keep him around until about when he himself is going to leave. (With the caveat, always, that Jonathan must make himself interesting/nonthreatening enough that he doesn't get bored before then.)

But finally, all those things aside... Jonathan has a tendency to fixate on things. In doing so he can miss other possibilities. And I think the encounter with the vampire ladies served to, somewhat despite himself, dismiss a lot of his fear of immediate danger from Dracula himself. He's aware that he is playing a long game under threat of being thrown the vampire ladies early, and kind of gets blinders to the fact that Dracula himself might physically harm him before then. This really reaches its height near the end of his stay with his seeming obliviousness to the possibility of Dracula biting him even when the guy outright says the "tonight is mine" line. And while I think he does get bitten and just doesn't remember it because that's often what can happen when a vampire entrances/bites you, his not recognizing the possibility beforehand is something that has made several people cry censorship (on a Watsonian level from Jonathan or Mina, and on a Doylist level from Stoker because he knew it wouldn't be accepted). But I think it can be attributed to a combination of Jonathan getting fixated on the ultimate threat (the women) and also on some level recognizing that if Dracula was going to give him to them after he was through, then he'd likely survive whatever Dracula planned for him anyway, so it wasn't as necessary to focus on. (Some of his single-mindedness definitely reads as more calculated at times.)

All this to say, Jonathan may just be overlooking the possibility that Dracula isn't planning to keep him around that long. That or he may be aware of the idea but is dismissing it without mention because it's totally unhelpful to dwell on. He has to approach the situation the same way regardless, fawning to please Dracula while looking for a chance at some other way out. He's stalling for time no matter what, so why not assume he has the most time it seems reasonable to hope for, at least in order to keep himself from completely breaking down and giving up before then. For some semblance of morale if nothing else. He's definitely not going to live past then, but maybe, maybe, until then.

[sabo-has-my-heart]

It's two part again. Happy thanksgiving!

Dang, moving is always such a hassle :') I wish things go well for you. *sends love*

It's been a while so I can't really give a detailed story, but to sum up, this is what I literally dreamt of. Y/N works as an Oiran in a busy district in Wano, and Ace once visited it when he was still in the Spade pirates. They had an intense night, and Ace could not forgot the sensation and basically fell in love at first sight. He saved up money to buy Y/N out (not really buying a slave but actually freeing Y/N from the place) However, when he came back for Y/N, he was told that they escaped and the place no longer know Y/N's location.

Ace was disappointed, but that was a story in the past, Ace is now part of the WB pirates. He was secretly still searching for Y/N, though. Then, he recognized a familiar face among one of the member in the nurse crew of WB pirates ship. It was Y/N. The man was over the moon, until he realized, he couldn't possibly come to her and start a conversation with "Have we met? I think I've had s3x with you before". It turned into a cute story between Ace who is now very awkward but is trying his best to start a conversation with the person of his dream. And Y/N who is obvious. Until Y/N finally recognized Ace, and started teasing/flirting him which end up with another heated night for the two of them.

It's a miracle how I can dream of Ace lol, but it was a third person view point dream so I couldn't enjoy much either. It's not the first time I have a weird dream though, for some reasons I keep dreaming of a strange blonde who I have established a romantic relationship with. Well that's way too off topic, I only want to share my ideas with you for fun. I do hope that you prioritize your personal stuff before starting to write again (even tho I miss your write, a lots :'))

Aight that's it for now. Have a great day, have a great thanksgiving week. Best wishes.

- two part

TWO PART ANON! I had a pretty boring Thanksgiving, our oven was broken so we weren't really able to do anything special, that's okay though. Plus I had covid. I'm... mostly better now, still have a cough, but I'm covid negative and raring to go once more! Here's, lol, PART 1!!! All the smut will be in part 2, I hope you enjoy it!

Part 2, Part 3

Warnings: mentions of previous sex, no actual sex yet though (that’s for part 2)

Word Count: 1680

     It felt like it had been an eternity ago since he’d last seen you. In truth, it had only been a couple of years, but with how his heart yearned for you, it felt like longer. Ace hadn’t been one to believe in fairytales, no ‘happily ever after’, no ‘peasant becomes the prince/princess’, and no ‘love at first sight’. At least, not until he’d met you. A courtesan in Wano, no, an Oiran, on par with the greatest of them, with even the great Komurasaki. The first time he had laid eyes on you, he knew he needed to talk to you, the first time he heard your voice, he knew he needed to spend the night with you, and from the first night with you, knew that he needed you in his life. Not just for one night, but for all of them, forever. A passionate night, more passionate than any you had previously known, more loving and caring. One where he couldn’t stop every desire from pouring out of his mouth. His desires for you, to have you, to be with you; and the shocking part, the part that made his heart stop, that shook him to his core, was when you reciprocated it. When you told him you wanted him in your life too. You shared things you’d never told anybody else, told him your past, your desires, and your dreams, and he knew that he’d do anything to make sure you saw them realized. A promise, one to find enough treasure to ‘buy’ you. To pay your debt to the man who held your fate, to take you away from such a life. But he’d been too late, you couldn’t take it after that night with him. 

     Pretending that you enjoyed the company of other men, giggling at dumb jokes and ‘enjoying’ fine food and drink sitting next to men who weren’t Ace. It didn’t matter how rich or good looking they were, you only wanted Ace. So you ran away. In the dead of the night, you gathered all your most precious belongings, every cent you could carry, everything of worth, and disappeared into the night. When Ace had asked about you, stating that he wanted to pay your debt, to ‘buy’ you, the man had merely scoffed, saying that you had run and despite his best efforts, he hadn’t found you, that you still owed him so much money. Ace had paid your debt to the man, whether or not you were there. Should the man ever stumble across you again, you could still be free. Eventually, he’d learned that you’d escaped Wano, somehow managing to break the biggest law of the strange land and escaping to sea.

     From that day, he searched for you. He never told anybody, never said a word, made it seem like he was simply living his life, but any time he was at an island, his eyes were searching the crowds for your familiar form. The man was certain he could never forget the shape of your body, the color of your hair, or your scent; not the scent of the perfume that you had been forced to wear as an oiran, but your natural scent lingering just beneath that. Every detail was carved into the backs of his eyelids, teasing him each time he closed his eyes with your beautiful smile. Your real smile. Not the one you had given him upon first being introduced to that night’s company, but the smile you gave him the next morning as you placed a soft kiss to his lips. Only a few people knew of his secret, of his love. Deuce, his first mate, his friend, his second-in-command. Whitebeard, his captain, his adopted father, the man who accepted him for him. And Izou, the Wano man had been by accident. He’d wanted to learn how to make your favorite so that if he ever found you, he could make it for you. Except the man wasn’t dumb, he noticed the concentration on Ace’s face as he worked to perfect the food, noticed the soft smile when Ace thought about when he’d first tried the food, saw the pain when asked about why it was so important. He’d confronted Ace about it, smiling as he listened to Ace’s tale about the beautiful oiran who’d stolen his heart. Izou kept an eye out for any Wanoan women after that, he never said anything, but as a favor to his friend, fellow commander, and brother-in-arms, he always kept an eye out as well. 

     Sighing, Ace leaned back in his chair, taking a large gulp from his mug. Pops was docked at another island to restock, giving his men shore leave once they were properly restocked, allowing his sons to enjoy themselves, whether it be in food, drink, or women. Women, ha! No woman would ever compare to you, to the beautiful tennyo who’d stolen his heart. He chuckled to himself at the thought, tennyo, so many things you’d taught him in his short time with you. He missed you so much right now, missed the strange terms of endearment you used for him, so strange to him, but never failed to make his heart skip a beat. 

     Ace’s brow furrowed as he took his feet off the table to sit up straight. His ears strained to catch the voice that had caught his attention just a moment ago. The accent, the lilt, it rang so familiarly in his head. Looking around, he only saw the familiar faces, tattoos, and clothing of the crew. His division knocking back drinks as they laughed, a few Whitebeard nurses dispersed amongst them. Still, his eyes scanned the crowd frantically, searching for the familiar face that filled his dreams. Finally, it landed on one of the nurses. Ace didn’t know all of the nurses that tended to Pops, the man’s deteriorating health requiring near constant care. Yet this one, he was certain, or almost certain. 

     Swallowing hard, he mentally shouted for the nurse to turn around fully, to give him a proper view of her, rather than just the small glances at her. Finally, she turned, looking to one of the other nurses, stopping Ace’s heart. Your hair was different and the layers of make-up were gone and the kimono replaced with a pink dress, but he was sure it was you. The young man almost shot up in his seat, wanting to run over to you and pull you close, to bury his head into the crook of your neck, hesitating when a thought hit him. Would you even recognize him? You might be forever engraved in his mind, but was he similarly engraved in yours? It had been a few years ago and it had only been a couple of nights together. Did he mean as much to you and you had meant to him? How would he even talk to you, how would he strike a conversation? ‘Hey, this sounds crazy, but I spent a passionate night with you a few years ago. Wanna go have dinner with me?’ No, absolutely not! He’d sound deranged! There was no way you’d recognize him after all this time. You’d been an oiran, he was probably just another paying man spending a night with you, getting too caught up in your act. To you, he must have just been an overly passionate man who was drawn into the fake little world you created for all your customers. Slouching into his chair, he stared at you in longing, he wanted so badly to go over to you, to pick you up and spin you around, to pull you into the most mind blowing kiss, but he couldn’t risk freaking you out. 

     You’d heard tales of the new second division commander, but had yet to find the time to go see him yourself. Whitebeard’s health took priority and the other nurses had come to rely on you a great deal, leaving you with little time to yourself. On top of your work as a nurse, you were kept busy with a million other things. The young man from years prior always lingered in your mind, his smile like the sun seared into your mind, as if forever branding your mind, heart, and soul as his. Freckles that dotted his cheeks like the stars in the sky, making you think of him every night when you stared up at the twinkling lights, he burned so brightly, as if he were made of sunshine and stardust. During the few daylight hours in which you weren’t caring for Whitebeard, your thoughts were taken up by this man. His voice and name still rang in your ears late at night when things were quiet and still. Ace. Portgas D. Ace. Still, you were on shore leave and the other nurses, as thanks for always taking their shifts, had given you the night off, you’d earned it. So you’d come here, hearing that the second division, and its commander, was here. So far, you’d yet to spot the young man who’d caused such a stir. Talking with one of the second division men, a flit of bright orange caught your eye. Turning, you noticed a familiar orange hat being pressed down on a lowered head before the owner stood up to head out of the bar. 

     “Who’s that?” You asked, pointing to the young man who’s back was turned to you. Despite the tattoo that covered a good portion of his back, you were almost certain you recognized his form. How could you forget that physique, the back that had sported the evidence of your night together in the form of long red scratches, the shoulders that you’d held so tightly, as if your life depended on it. 

     “Hm? Oh, right! You haven’t met the new division commander have you? That’s him, FireFist Ace! Kid’s crazy, but he’s strong.” the man you’d been talking to said with a grin, proud of his new commander. You smiled as you watched him leave, Ace, you’d finally found him.

[heywriters]

for the past few years i've been using the concept of AU's to explore every trope and genre I'm interested in while sticking with the same character, and discovering how experiencing different tropes/genres changes that character. i'm loving writing a character who has nothing to gain or lose in the universes they visit, who is indulging in hedonism and "self-care" for the first time ever, and who can exist as a ghost in some universes but make major waves for either moral or selfish reasons in others. the consequences of their actions only matter as long as they are in that universe, but once they leave the only consequences are the ones they carry with them.

it's freeing because the character isn't "skilled" per se at interdimensional travel. they don't know how it works or why they end up where they do, and furthermore they don't care. their whole point is "everything sucks, no one cares about me, so i no longer care about me or anything," but traveling from universe to universe reminds them they do care, they care a lot, and that care keeps motivating them to solve problems and seek love wherever they end up and it always happens unintentionally. so the "consequences they carry with them" are frequently positive ones, and the positives stack up until they reach a point in their journey where they feel love and respect toward everyone they meet, which leads to loving themselves, which leads to wanting a happy ending, which leads to seeking a happy ending.

i'm writing a whole story where i convince the main character they want a happy ending by showing them how it can or cannot be achieved. they see the best timelines and think "oh, so it's possible" and they see the worst timelines and think "oh, mine was great by comparison" and they meet people in every timeline who tell them "you could stay and be happy/successful here with me/us." that resonates with them and they take from that that no matter the quality of the timeline, happy endings come in many forms and are anything but rare; that freedom and joy and personal satisfaction can be achieved in gritty wastelands as well as progressive utopias, and that even where life is bleak there can be someone who wants the best for you, maybe even someone who wants to make a home with you, or be a home for you.

lol this infodump is a better outline of my story than anything i've written so far. i hope some of you enjoy it and write your own wild stories. i may never "finish" this one, but the ride has been great so far

[cherryberry-sugarandspice]

Do you have any headcanons for Nanny fic Gabi? Or scenarios? :3c

-Gedankenmoon ⭐️

hello CEO of papa miguel :3c

Gabriella Headcanons in Nanny

Gabriella is very vocal around her friends. She's loud and sometimes accidentally interrupts her friends when they're in the middle of saying something, but she gets too excited she can't help herself. She likes talking about her interests and can ramble on for hours

When she's older, her interest space out. So instead of just princesses and soccer, it turns to: kpop, sanrio, warrior cats, kirby, monster high, and possibly wants to do another sport but she loves soccer too much

Loves the color purple. Absolutely adores it. (I love the color purple too it's literally the best color ever). I've pictured her quince and her dress is a large, flowing purple dress with rhinestones (like my quince dress was teehee)

Gabriella is very attached to reader. After finding out about their relationship, she feels like its okay to view her officially as a mom. She snuggles her more, holds her hand, follows her around-basically the same thing she's always done but with more confidence ahaha

She doesn't plan on getting another lizard after Butterscotch. She doesn't mind getting a cat or dog, but never a lizard. Butterscotch will probably die around like 20 (maybe longer since Butterscotch isn't a normal lizard), and Gabriella will have her cremated. Getting another lizard would feel like replacing the pet that she basically grew up with and she refuses to do that.

Her dream job is to become a princess warrior, but she'll eventually find the passion of animals (more exotic animals) and become a veterinarian. She'll probably specialize in reptiles or even work at a zoo. Either a veterinarian or a dog trainer or anything relating to animals.

Gabriella is very passionate about her interests or the people she cares about. She likes to go on and on about, say for example, Twice. Her favorite members, whose photo cards she collects the most, etc. For the people she loves, she enjoys spending time with them and either buying them presents (when she's older and has a job. just because miguel is rich doesn't mean he'll keep handing everything to gabi) or making handmade gifts straight from the heart

Reader influenced her a lot. She looks up to her so much. Her kindness, how she takes the time to explain things to her, how she allows her to be upset and express herself. She helps her learn a lot of things about life, like how to handle certain situations at school or to listen to her body about food. Reader allows Gabriella to think for herself so she can be more independent (parenting the same way as Miguel)

Gabriella might be spoiled, but she's taught to be independent and how to speak for herself. If she wants something, she may ask but can get things for herself (she can ask for help if she can't do it). She helps learn how to cook, do her own laundry, etc. Basic life skills. When she's older and wanting expensive things (like an ipad) she does have to work for it. So she does chores, focuses on keeping her grades up, and understands that there's rules in owning an ipad (miguel and reader don't want her to become an ipad kid or leave her unsupervised to things that could potentially harm her, so parental controls are put in place and such)

Dana might've hurt her emotionally, but Reader is the one who eventually heals her. She filled the absence and more. Gabriella sees her more as a mom than Dana. She trusts her and follows her advice. Reader basically shapes her into the person she'll grow up to be.

Gabriella gets attached very easily, which means she can get hurt very easily. Her therapist managed to figure this out and helped her on her attachment issues.

Gabriella overall is a sweet kid with a big heart. She's loved and cared for and she has a bright future ahead of her.

[sapphicteaparty]

i've NEVER seen a single good faith discussions about pleather on this website and i want ppl to think critically for one second about the way businesses talk about their products. "vegan leather" is purely a marketing term and nothing else. it was invented by the fashion industry and it has nothing to do with vegans or veganism.

"vegan leather" is basically made of polyester (a type of plastic), but crucially a lot of clothes nowadays are made of polyester either fully or partially because it's cheaper to produce. so of course clothing companies are going to be producing and marketing things that make them more money.

these products are not even targeting vegans, they're making an average customer feel better about their purchases, same way they are now putting "eco" labels on some of their organic cotton clothing. it's just greenwashing. NOTHING in fast fashion is eco friendly in any way - this whole industry is extremely wasteful an exploitative on every level. when are ppl going to realize that these companies just say anything they can to make it seem like they care about anything other than their profit margins. because they don't.

my wish is that ppl that talk about how bad pleather is and how vegans are apparently responsible for all of the microplastic pollution in the world also talked or cared even a little bit about the absolutely horrific abuse and exploitation that happens in the clothing and fast fashion industry. talk about how this industry consistently fails (or outright refuses) to pay its workers a living wage or how they don't provide them humane working conditions - and how that led to thousands of garment workers dying and getting injured when a garment factory collapsed in Bangladesh (and that's not the only tragedy this industry is directly responsible for).

also microplastics are only the tip of the iceberg if you want to talk about the pollution that the clothing industry is responsible for (toxic chemicals and pesticides used in cotton production, garment dyes, the disposal of textile waste etc) - all of which has direct human costs tied to it.

but if your only concern ever was microplastics that clothes can shed then great! avoid all polyester and plastic clothing. but did you know textiles aren't even the primary microplastic contaminants? it's plastic bags, bottles and fishing nets by far. most ppl can't always avoid these plastic items in daily life. but do you eat fish? vegans don't.

i'm just so tired of the pleather discussion focusing on the wrong thing (vegans) when there are so many more aspects about the clothing industry and plastic pollution that never get addressed when they should. and the amount of misinformation on these topics is just laughable at this point. ppl sure enjoy reblogging posts that confirm their biases and free them from having to critically engage with complicated issues because it's so easy to just blame a group of ppl for it.

anyway if you're concerned about ethical clothing (i hope you are) then basically these are your best options:

wear what you already have and don't buy new clothes unless necessary

get second hand clothes

get upcycled clothes

this may seem a bit extreme but these are the only options that don't result in new clothes and textiles being produced because there is an overproduction issue in the clothing industry which is why over 80% of clothes end up in landfills. obviously these options aren't viable for everyone all the time but if the goal is sustainability then that's just the reality of things for now.

you can also do things like mend your clothes so they last longer, learn to sew to make your own clothes etc all of that is better than buying new clothes. donating clothes to a thrift store is also not ideal since they get so many donations that a lot of it ends up in a landfill anyway and recycling clothes is also not straightforward or even possible in a lot of cases. so not buying new/more clothes is the most environmentally friendly option. and before you go no ethical consumption under capitalism blah blah yeah we know. doesn't mean you are powerless and have no choices in anything ever.

please learn more about microplastics, the clothing/textile industry and veganism before you uncritically reblog another misinformed post about "vegan leather" or microplastics. also please don't uncritically believe what i wrote here either. if you're seriously interested in these topics then your source for this information shouldn't be some tumblr post in the first place. there are lot of studies, documentaries and articles about all the things i mentioned. i'm not a researcher or a scientist, so don't ask me. i'm just tired.

[imaginexwwe]

SPRING BREAK 3 - Roman Reigns

TIME SKIP (AGAIN) (PRETEND ROMAN WAS TRIBAL CHIEF IN 2015 CAUSE... YEAH LOL) ☝🏼🩸

•

REAL NAMES WILL BE USED

•

Y|N'S MYSTERY MAN IS FINALLY BACK AND SOME REALIZATIONS COME TO LIGHT

•

PART 2 (×)

•

"Thanks." Colby's longtime friend, Joe said said as he took the beer Colby held out to him, wasting no time to open it.

Colby nodded, trying to hold back a chuckle as he watched how fast Joe downed the second beer Colby had just passed him a minute ago. "Why do you seem more stressed than me?" He asked bringing his own beer to his mouth, taking a quick sip. "I'm the one who's out of work with a messed up knee."

Joe shrugged. "It's nothing."

"We're brothers so I can tell when something bothering you." Colby pushed, trying to get Joe to tell what's up. "Talk."

"Alright..." Joe mumbled with a sigh.

He still didn't want to talk but he knows Colby well enough to know he won't give up until you tell him something.

"It's this girl, I met a few months ago. Possibly the most beautiful girl I've ever met..." He began saying, as memories of his short time with Y|N in Miami started flooding his mind. "I gave her my number and she never called. Which I don't understand because I thought she was into me." He added, remembering how Y|N had been the one to invite him up to her room the first night they met and how she had invited him back on her last night in the city but he couldn't because of his work schedule.

"Basically, what you're saying is that you finally found a girl that could resist you?" Colby asked with a chuckle. "Dude, I told Jon the day would come when you finally find out what rejection feels like."

Joe, scrunched up his nose at Colby's statement.

Rejection?

I definitely wasn't rejected.

Joe smirked, trying to play off what Colby had said. "If anybody was doing the rejecting it was me when I told her I couldn't spend the night with her again." He sighed, taking another sip of his beer. "I just don't know why she didn't call."

"Maybe the sex sucked..?" Colby wondered, hie statement coming out more in the form of a question.

"Nah," Joe said smirking even wider. "The sex was some if not the best I've ever had so I kn-"

Colby furrowed his eyebrows at his friend. "Why it sounding like you in love?" He said chuckling again.

Probably because I may have been falling, Joe thought to him self.

But of course he wasn't going to admit that.

"I'm just saying." Joe, shrugged trying to play off what he'd said. "The way I had her screaming my name that night. It was no way she didn't enjoy it. If I wanted her to, she would've been calling me daddy." He finisned, laughing with Colby.

Which is weird why she didn't call...

"Women are wei-" Colby started saying, before being interrupted by someone calling his name.

Both Colby and Joe looked up to to see Tori.

•

Oh my god.

Oh my god.

OH MY GOD, was the only thought that Tori was able to form as she walked out to the back yard through the glass sliding door, looking for Colby.

And finding Y|N's Miami lover in the process.

What is he doing here?

"Tori..." Y|N's older brother called out to her, bringing her back to reality. "What do you want?"

Tori, swallowed hard, her eyes never leaving Joe and his never leaving hers. "I-I um..." She stuttered. "Who's he?" She asked already knowing who the man was.

He's the man that's got her besties life in shambles.

But who was he to Colby?

And how did he know Colby enough to be sitting out, laughing and drinking beer with him?

Colby laughed, shaking his head, probably assuming the reason Tori couldn't form a clear thought was because of the man she couldn't help but stare at. "Why?" He asked, a bit of amusement in his voice.

"Just curious, Colby." Tori answered, flashing a innocent smile as she side eyed Joe. "I've just never seen him around."

"A friend from work, Tori." Colby replied, causing Tori to raise an eyebrow. "From WWE." He clarified, this time earning a nod from Tori.

Tori stood there a minute longer trying to think of anything else she could question Colby about Y|N but before she could even form one to ask Colby again spoke, this time raising his eyebrow to her.

"Is there anything else?"

Tori groaned. "I was trying to think."

"Think upstairs." Colby immediately replied, pointing between him and Joe. "We were having a conversation.

"Fine." Tori pouted, turning to leave the two guys outside.

I've gathered enough information anyways.

As soon as Tori was a bit of a distance away, Joe glanced over at Tori. "Who's she?"

Colby shrugged. "My little sister's bestfriend." He answered, looking over at Tori as she continued to walk away at a suspiciously slow pace. "And she's kinda like a second sister to me." He added, taking note of the thumbs up He got from her in return.

Joe nodded. "I didn't know you had a sister."

"Oh, yeah." Colby said. "Her name's Y|N." He said, downing the rest of his beer. "She's a lot less annoying than Tori." Colby said, smirking when he heard Tori scoff. "You're gonna have to meet her some time. Both her and Tori just finished their second year of college so she's home a lot more."

•

"Oh, so she's like twenty one, twenty two?" Joe asked, laughing to play off how nervous he was feeling. "If I didn't see how old Tori looked I'd think you were talking about a child when you say little sister."

Colby shook his head, laughing also. "Yeah, Y|N complains about that constantly. He replied. "But no she's nineteen for another month."

Joe's eyes widened as his friend continued to talk about his sister.

Y|N.

Her name's Y|N?

It's gotta be a coincidence, right?

I mean what are the odds that the girl he was just talking about would happen to be Colby's little sister?

It's been months but if he remembers correctly, Y|N did say Tori was her best friend.

But people have more than one best friend.

Take him for example, Colby's his best friend but he also has Jon for a best friend along with his cousins who are family bit still his best friend.

In a matter of seconds Joe found himself spiraling.

There was no way in hell he fucked Colby's sister.

"Man, I gotta piss." He said jumping up. "Where's the bathroom?"

"Down the hall on the left." Colby mumbled, giving Joe a look as if to say he could've just asked where the bathroom was and left the piss part out.

But it was the fastest lie Joe could think of, and he definitely wasn't in the right mind set to think of a better way to say it.

Joe nodded, silently getting up and rushing inside the house.

Where did she go? He silently asked himself, looking around for Tori.

"Looking for me?" Joe heard Tori ask, as she propped herself up against a wall in the hallway leading to the bathroom Colby had given Joe directions to.

"I'm looking for Y|N." Joe admitted with a sigh. "But she's not home is she?"

He watched as Tori shook her head, giving him that same glare from earlier. "But even if she was, she wouldn't want to see you after you played her." Tori answered. "Y|N sees you for the person you really are."

"What?" Joe asked, furrowing his eyebrows, completely confused by what Tori was insinuating about him. "I didn't do anything wrong."

Tori gasped, looking at him in disbelief. "Giving someone the wrong number after pretending to like them, is you doing nothing wrong?"

"What?" Joe asked again, even more confuse than he was a minute ago.

"I mean, if you just wanted meaningless sex, you shouldn't have taken her put on that date, Joe." Tori continued, ignoring him. "Because that date made Y|N think you was actually into her, only for her to find out you gave her the wrong number, and you might have even gave her the wrong name because we tried to find your socials and there was nothing that we could find. But I guess that's a given cause you never even told her your last na-"

"I am into her." Joe admitted, cutting Tori's rambling short. "I just figured she wasn't into me since she never called."

Tori groaned. "How was she supposed to call when you didn't even give her the right number?" She questioned, pulling out her phone and showing him the screenshot of the number Y|N said Joe had given her. "Admit it." Tori said, as she held her phone in front of Joe's face. "This isn't your number."

"That's not my number."

"I fucking know." Tori said, nodding. "Becau-"

"Y|N, got four zero, when it's zero four." Joe said, letting a laugh escape from his mouth.

Tori pulled her phone back from Joe's face, looking at it for herself. "She got the numbers backwards." She said, face palming herself before laughing also. "But wait." Tori said, getting serious again. "Why couldn't we find your social medias?"

"They're under my wrestling name." Joe immediately answered.

"Which is?"

"Roman Reigns." Joe said, as he watched Tori quickly typed in his wrestling name into Google, giving each social media profile that popped up in the search, a quick check.

Tori nodded, letting out a sigh. "Y|N's gonna be so relieved when I tell her she didn't get knocked up by a catfish." She mumbled, her eyes immediately getting huge as she realized she had said something that Joe wasn't supposed to hear.

She's pregnant?

Not only was Joseph just unknowingly bragging about sex with his best friends little sister, to his friend himself...

But he got her pregnant too?

"I'm fucked."

•

PART 4

•

T A G S -

@southerngirl41

[chubbygirlmaddy14]

The Dollmaker: The Cabin

Dale Kobble x reader

A/N: This is not proof-read and I’m so incredibly sorry for the wait, college and work have not been nice to me but I finally have a chapter up so hope you enjoy!! :3

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/374688245?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_writing&wp_page=create&wp_uname=chubby_girl_maddy16

Chapter 18: The Cabin (1,115 words)

The drive felt way longer than it was. The tension was rising every mile we drove. What was I going to do now? I'm spending the next week or two in a cabin with a murderer, not just anyone though.

Longlegs

The one man I had been on the hunt for ever since I got here, and now he's driving my car up to a cabin for us to hide away. The trees started melting together as I looked out the window for too long drowning in my head before I felt his hand on my thigh, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"You okay?" he said softly looking up at me as I turn my head, "yeah I just... it's all so much." grabbing my hand he kisses it softly before holding it tight, "I promise we'll work it through."

I smile back at him before he pulls off into the driveway, going through the hidden woods before seeing the cabin sitting there. Parking the car we get out, grab all of our stuff, and unlocking the door set all of our stuff down in the living room.

It was past midnight by the time we got there, exhaustion hitting me harder than I expected it. Turning around Dale walks over, wrapping his arms around my waist as mine comes up to his shoulders. "It'll all be okay my little angel," leaning down his lips meet mine, making me pull him in closer.

All my fears and worries melted into his lips, making me as relaxed as I think i'll ever be again. Pulling away to catch my breath I see his eyes not looking away from me, "what?"

He shrugs, still smiling down at me "how did I get little miss fbi agent wrapped around my finger?" Rolling my eyes I slap his arm playfully as I walk away before feeling him come behind and pick me up. My laughs and "let me go" fall through deaf ears before he's sitting us down on the couch making me comfy in his lap.

  Resting my head on his chest I sigh as he pushes his fingers through my hair, carefully untangling the knots that had made their way into it, "you have a lot on your mind." I take a deep breath before looking up at him, "what are we gonna do?"

  He looks at me confused a bit before I talk again, "I'm on one of the longest going murder cases where we live, and now i'm sitting on said murderers lap letting him play with my hair as we hide from everyone so you don't get caught."

  Not saying a word he just sits and listens to me, "they know what you look like now... it'll only be a matter of time." Pushing my head back against his chest, he sits like he's as calm as can be.

  "I have a friend that will make all this go away sweetheart, you don't need to worry about a thing." Closing my eyes I take a deep breath, the sound of his heart beat soon pulling me into sleep without realizing it.

Longlegs POV:

  I knew he would fix all this mess that led up to this. Looking down at y/n, I can't help but smile, she was my gift. A gift he sent just for me and all that I've done for him. I couldn't think of anything better.

  Seeing her passed out against me, I stand up and make my way into the closest bedroom that I found, setting her down to make sure she was as comfortable as possible.

  Moving away from the room for a bit I look around the small house, the little photos of her family and her as she grew up throughout the years, getting to know little things about her more through them. I needed her just like she needs me.

  It was small yes, but it felt right being here knowing she was here voluntarily. She didn't run, she didn't scream, she didn't need to fight me before taking me down to turn me in. I knew she wouldn't have, but I could tell she was scared of it all.

  I understood why though, she could get in trouble just like me, but the drive over made me realize more and more that he'll soon help me.

  Moving back to the room, I make my way under the covers to feel her moving into my side. "Get some rest, don't spend all night staring at me creep." I giggle a bit, rubbing her back as I kiss her forehead softly, "but I like staring at you."

  If her eyes were open I would've seen them rolling back like always, I can make them roll another way. Shaking my head from the thoughts I close my eyes as I hear her breathing even as soon falling asleep beside her.

Y/N POV:

  I wake up feeling the sun shine through the curtains, groaning as it hits against my face. Feeling the bed beside me empty, I sit up confused looking around the room. Standing up, I stretch my back out before heading into the kitchen.

Where is he?

  The front door opens wide, dale walking in with groceries and my eyes go wide. "Morning my angel," he says moving past me to set the bags down before looking over at me. "Why did you leave? You could've been seen, you know you can't do that. Do you wanna get caught I just-" I ramble on and on keeping eye contact with him.

  He walks closer, his hands moving onto my face as I keep talking before he leans in, pushing his lips against mine. My eyes fall closed as I relax into him, grabbing his wrists to keep him there.

His hands soon moved to my hips, picking me up without letting go each other and setting me on the counter. My legs wrap around his waist to pull him in more, the kiss growing heated.

  I pull away from him to catch my breath, his lips moving down to my neck as he squeezes my waist, "Dale-" my breathing gets heavy, leaning my head back giving him more access "I have work to do~"

  He pulls away looking in my eyes, "I don't think you mind it though do you?" His hands fall on my chin pulling my face closer to him.

  My face turns bright red, "make me some breakfast and maybe I'll show you if I do or not." He smirks before kissing me one more time, pulling away and moving to the groceries.

This is going to be a long two weeks

[antisocialgaycat]

i have a test tomorrow so short story time! no i havent researched anything and for the sake of the vibes ignore any stupid plotholes also no editing we die like real men

I know that I probably should be scared. No one's ever travelled this deep into the ocean before and come out alive. Actually, no one's ever travelled this deep into the ocean before at all. But as I walk towards the ship, I feel this overwhelming sense of calm. I know the dangers that come with this. I know that I likely won't make it back to the surface once I leave. I know that this might just be the last time I breathe in this air, the last time I hear a voice other than my own. But still, I am calm.

I step inside. There isn't much space in here, everything is filled with equipment and padding and more equipment. Behind me, I can hear the lady with the clipboard walking towards me. Her heels make a clicking sound on the jetty. Click, click, click. As the footsteps get louder, I start to wonder how I'm the first person doing this. How has this never been done before? We've travelled to the edges of the solar system but we haven't travelled to the bottom of the sea. Click, click, click. I wonder if the lady with the clipboard knows what's going on in my mind. Probably not. She has bigger things to think about, like making sure this all goes smoothly. Click, click, click. The clicking almost seems like a countdown.

"You doing okay in there?" Her voice isn't what I expected. It's tired and sad. I look up at her face and see the hopelessness plastered all over her features. In the brightest voice I can muster I respond "Of course! This is what I've been preparing for." She glances up from her clipboard, giving me a sad look. "Yes. Yes it is."

She crosses a large section off on her clipboard. I'm no longer calm, instead it feels as though I'm being crushed by dread. What if I die down there? "You ready for me to shut this?" Her voice interrupts my thoughts.

"Yes. I'm ready." The door hinges shut and is almost fully closed before I shout out "Wait!" The lady with the clipboard obliges and the sunlight streams back inside. "What's your name? It doesn't feel right not knowing it when you might be the last person I'll ever see." She smiles at me. "Of course. I'm Isa. Well, technically Isabella, but no one calls me that other than my mother."

"Well Isa," I say, "Thank you. Genuinely. I'm ready now." We share a smile and then the door shuts with a gentle click.

I make my way over to the controls. There's nothing I really need to do. The path is pre-set. All I need to do is press "Go" and I'm off. Possibly forever. Is this how astronauts feel? Putting their lives in the hands of others, in the hands of machines? In the hands of people who only consider them test subjects, as expendable.

I press Go. The click the engine makes as it gets started echoes throughout the entire ship. I sit down cross-legged on the floor and wait for, well, nothing really. Once I get to the bottom I won't be doing anything much other than coming back up. There's a rover attached to the side of the ship which will be put down automatically before I leave. Technically, I don't need to be here at all. I'm just an experiment.

The thought calms me for some reason. An experiment. I know how experiments work. I check the timer on the wall. 2 minutes 23 seconds into the trip. Only 52 hours and 39 minutes left in this experiment. 52 hours and 39 minutes until I return home. With a click the purple light turns on and suddenly everything is so much more eerie. The shadows from the machines seem to be reaching out to me, and so I join them for a little while.

When I wake, I check the timer. It's been 4 hours and 7 minutes. I know soon, I won't be able to see anything at all. Purple light might be one of the last to disappear, but it still does eventually. Everything disappears, when you think about it. Some things easier than others. Some things just slip through the cracks and life continues as though they were never there at all. I hope I don't end up like that.

Eventually my mind wanders back to Isa. I wonder what made her so tired, so hopeless. It was as though all the life had been sucked out of her. But when she smiled, the colours of the world somehow seemed a little brighter. I vow to make it back, if only to see her again. What I wouldn't do to see another human being right now. With that thought I drift back to sleep.

It's dark when I wake. I thought I knew dark before, but this is a whole new level. It's comforting, like a blanket, wrapping around me, keeping me safe and warm, but at the same time, I can't help but be wary. The engine is all but silent, and without light and sound, it feels like I shouldn't be here. My heart beats louder then ever, reminding me that I don't belong here.

I sit there for a while, thinking about nothing and everything all at once, until I feel the ship start to slow. Then it stops. It's even quieter in here now. The only thing that lets me know I'm not dead is the feeling of the floor under my hands and the coolness of the machine behind my back. I startle as I hear the click of the rover dropping down to the ocean bed, ringing out against the crushing silence, and then it's quiet once more.

To fill the silence, I sing. Softly at first, with a voice cracked and shaky. I don't remember the last time I sang. With every phrase my volume grows and something within me clicks into place. I feel safe, and any fears I had slip away. I sing every song I've ever known, then I repeat and repeat and repeat. The hours pass by almost as fast as when I was asleep.

Before I know it, the door is opening with a gentle click and the fresh air floods in with the soft light of the sunset.I can see Isa smiling down at me and even if only for a moment, everything is alright.

[eruscreaminginthedistance]

Okay so. I've been sitting on my full first impressions of the game until after the gameplay reveal, cos I know shit can get twisted in marketing.

I was NOT a fan of the trailer. The vibe was off; I cringed a lot; it gave a off very bog-standard hero team saves the day kind of vibe which I inherently dislike because it seems like Dragon Age has just given up on giving you the freedom to be a bastard, or any kind of character that isn't on rails to be everyone's favourite boy. It also failed to bring any dark fantasy to the table. BUT I know from experience, namely the DA2 trailer (not the CGI one. the other one), that marketing is intent on making Dragon Age look like the goofiest shit possible to appeal to the dregs of society (normies). I watched it. Hated it. Moved on to life stuff.

Now with the gameplay reveal out of the way, I have some more solid takes on everything we now know about the game overall.

Things I liked:

The companions all look pretty cool; I've been excited for Devrin for years now, and seeing that he's a Dalish Elf as well as a Warden is quite exciting to see; everyone else are also not only well designed but don't feel like rehashes of our previous companions (apart from Harding)

The return of multiple weapon sets. Thank fucking god. This may even make archer a viable build again. Also I noted that you only have a set number of arrows which the UI tracks, which I'm a huge fan of

The look and style of Minrathous. I like that Bioware is showing their hard work in coming up with a unique area based entirely around magic-tech and I think the result looks great; I am really intrigued by the dark panopticon vibes and hope that becomes a major theme going forward

Different demon designs. I hope there's a bit more variation as the game progresses, but I liked little details like the Pride demons having some kind of armour aesthetic

Dialogue wheel. No notes; she's here, still the same comforting presence as ever. Praying with fingers crossed that it doesn't turn into a super bland protagonist situation like Inquisition

Choosing a faction in character creation that isn't locked to one's race; this one is a really cool idea and if origins don't come back it can be a decent alternative if the reactivity to your choice is the same as in the prologue

Things I didn't like:

Action wheel. Like. I'm a PC person, so I have no idea what the final UI will actually look like for me. But Bioware hasn't elaborated on their UI style at all and if Inquisition is anything to go by, I'm stuck with shitty console-centred UI for the whole game. I would rather just have the ability bar back, for my sanity.

The two-person companion limit. It automatically restricts people into a specific party build depending on their class and I hate that

The Mass Effect-style gameplay. Party tactics was a HUGE draw to the DA series for me, and is what got me into retro RPGs in the first place. Seeing it replaced completely to the point where we can no longer manually manage our party is a huge disappointment. I am willing to keep an open mind, just because I love Mass Effect that much, but it hurts knowing for a certainty I'm never gonna engage with Veilguard like I did with Origins or 2 as a result

The voice acting. Was this an out of date take, or did everyone sound super flat to anyone else? Especially Neve, who didn't seem to know what she was reacting to, just really wooden. It was disappointing, cos I love her voice overall. Wasn't a fan of Rook's voice but I don't plan to play a man anyway

The breaking pots method of looting. This is gonna feel like such a nitpick but I immediately pulled a face seeing that cos I could TELL some suit somewhere asked the Bioware team to "make it more like breath of the wild" and now for some reason it's not dynamic enough to just click on a crate and choose what loot to take; now Tevinters are storing exactly one (1) random health potion in decorative clay jars around the city (more likely than you think!)

The aesthetic of the veil and spirit stuff so far; it's just all a bit bright and noisy, doesn't really grab me as something fun to explore or fight (again, I'm an Origins girly so I'm biased)

Harding coming back. I know she's cool and everyone likes her and I like her too. In Inquisition. This is just a preference, but if I'm gonna start a new game as a new person I don't want to be inheriting pre-bought friends from the last protagonist ://

Things I HATE:

Why does everyone look like play-doh; it's disconcerting.

Like guys I know DA2 is having a renaissance but I don't think anyone was getting nostalgic over everyone's pudding faces.

Everything put out so far has basically crushed any hope I had for this becoming Dwarf age :/ No new dwarf characters, no mention of Kal-Sharok, Harding being the only dwarf companion basically confirms that dwarves will be unromanceable AGAIN. not a fan

TLDR: This is still definitely not a day-one buy for me. The series has just strayed completely from the genre and format that I loved about the previous games into a full action RPG derivative of games from four years ago. Without the focus on party tactics and the low-tech, dark and gritty worldbuilding from the first two games it just fails to excite me. It looks too much like other games for me to really register it as a Dragon Age game.

I love the story and the world of Dragon Age though, so I do still intend to buy it when it goes on sale, but this is definitely a "wait and see the reviews" situation for me, which is a first when it comes to this series :/