#wish I was still in IL I would be there in a heartbeat

[kangals]

Hey collie friends, if you’re in the Midwest (or willing to drive there) this rescue is dealing with almost 200 collies rescued from a hoarding situation and are in desperate need of help transporting and fostering the dogs!

[silvervinewine]

oooo i jus wan dottore to hold me,, would you mind? 🥺 feel free to ignore <3

ALSO OMG you're posting so much im barely opening tumble these days lemme binge read when im not busy SOBS,

JUST THE TWO OF US (W/ IL DOTTORE)

to be frank, the feared IL DOTTORE, rank two fatui harbinger is the softest person you know.

though often obscured by his mask, his features were soft, giving him an almost delicate appearance. his face easy and gentle to the eye, in contrast to his manniacle grin and sharp red eyes. even then you thought, he still looked fragile, a fine example of a perfect dichotomy.

his personality was soft, despite his stern and unforgiving character, he was still a person. a living, breathing person, a person with want and needs. for him, you were an absolute need. he never seemed to get enough of you. stares linger, as you notice him looking at you with kind eyes, once again obscured by his mask. you know him well enough to notice his gaze piercing holes into your skin. turning, intending to catch him in the act, you smile, his face taking on a pink tint his scowl clear, eyes turning away in embarrasment.

his touch was soft, it was in his nature as a doctor for his touch to be precise and calculated, experiments having to be handled with care. even if he was often rather rough with test subjects, he still cared enough for the outcome, the final report and thesis to be turned in. with you though, his touch was soft. he handles you like glass, nervous, fleeting touches, unsure where to go next.

laying in his chest in the middle of an open field, you feel his fingers caressing your face. strong arms around your body. you feel his heartbeat, the rythm strong and steady, just like any other. you bury your face even deeper in his neck. DOTTORE leans into your touch, ghosting his lips over your neck, unable to commit, you tilt your head to the side, his mouth briefly kissing your neck.

a gentle breeze blows, and ZANDIK shivers, hugging you closer seeking the warm comfort of your body. the warm rays of the evening sun shines on your skin, as you lay with your lover, your darling you could say.

the scene is awfully domestic, sickengly so but you couldn't wish to be anywhere else. after all, it was just the two of you, you and your lover forever and ever.

[xdacted]

To be with you

Paring: Reader x Charles Leclerc

Warnings: Angst, Hurt/no comfort, Ferrari's Incompetence

Word Count: 6,197

Status: Complete

_________________

He meets her at a house party. 

With music blaring in his ears, burning liquor on his lips, bodies packed onto the makeshift dance floor. He doesn’t remember whose party it is, only that Lorenzo had dragged him to it, but he’s since lost sight of his brother, swallowed by the throng of people. There are hands everywhere, pulling at his shirt, sliding down his back. But the alcohol that burns within him makes it easy for him to forget that he’s crowded around by strangers, and he loses himself in the energy of the room. 

It’s electrifying, thrumming in his veins and he almost feels like he’s racing. His heart is hammering within his chest, face warm, sweat dripping down his neck. He loves nights like these. He loves forgetting he’s Chalres Leclerc - ‘Il Predestinato’. 

Don’t get him wrong, racing is everything. It’s the blood in his body, the breath in his lungs - he’d be nothing without it, but sometimes that’s exactly what he misses. 

Being nothing, being no one. 

Living life without the crushing weight of the Scuderia on his back. 

A sudden change in the music draws him back to reality. There’s the squeal of a track and the people around him begin to boo loudly. He joins in, not for any particular reason, but it feels right. He begins to laugh, as someone shouts beside him, “This is shit!”

With the crowd still, he can finally detangle himself. He slips through the slivers of space, nearly tripping over his two feet. He manages to find the kitchen, red solo cups strewn about the marble island. With a sigh, Charles pulls himself against the cool surface, trying to calm the rapid drum of his heartbeat. The room spins a little and he curses for drinking so much, nothing will be worth the hangover tomorrow. 

“Are you alright?”

A girl perched upon the cabinets, watching him from above. Her voice is loud, fighting to rise above the music that resumes behind them. 

He nods, steadying himself against the counter, “I am alright.”

“Are you sure?” A smile plays on her face and Chalres can’t help but return it.

“I am.”

“You don’t look it,” Her feet sway where they dangle, her ankle bracelet shining in the artificial light of the kitchen, “You should drink some water.”

“Thanks for the suggestion.”

A laugh follows, but he can’t hear it. Their voices are swallowed by the music, and he can’t help but wish that everyone would shut up. 

“Maybe some air?”

He nods, watching her dismount from her perch. They make their way to the balcony and the night wind is soft against his skin, the lights of Monaco bright in the darkness. His wonderful city breathing below him. Charles clings to the railing, staring into the distance of the sea, the moon dancing across the glittering waters. The boats bob along to the gentle waves, and it looks as if the arms of the ocean are trying to rock them to sleep. 

“It’s so beautiful here,” Her voice is quieter now, the music trapped behind the terrace doors. It’s just them out here. 

“It is,” He smiles, his eyes slipping closed. Home fills his lungs. 

The smell of salt and sand, the dying bite of the sun on housetops, and a bit of her perfume. He can hear the laughter of his brothers as they run around the streets, kicking a football between them. He can see the confetti cannons and the spray of champagne as the rush of victory sings in his veins, throwing himself in the arms of his father. 

He nearly forgets she’s there, wrapped in memories that make him feel as if he’s floating. But then, he can hear the groan of the lounge chairs behind him. He turns to face her, watching with a chuckle as she burrows into the festive pillows that lie below her. 

When she looks up at him, a smile playing on her lips, it’s almost as if they’ve known each other for years. She gestures to the empty space beside her, and he collapses down onto the chair next to her. The wood of the seat creaks beneath him, but he settles into it. 

Silence balloons over them. 

The night rolling over them, Charles can feel the buzz simmering in his veins. His head has begun to clear, and he looks over at her. She lays there with her eyes closed, the wind blowing through her hair, a few pieces stuck to her forehead with sweat. The porch light dances on her skin. He finds himself memorizing the curve of her jaw and the lines of her nose, the bow of her lips. 

She’s beautiful. 

“I’m Chalres.”

His voice pops the peaceful nothingness that gathered, but she just hums. 

“I know.”

His face begins to burn, embarrassment twisting in his stomach. He hadn’t meant to sound arrogant, he just wanted to be polite, but before he can explain it away, she continues. 

“Everyone in Monaco knows who you are,” Hearing her say it only makes his blush worse, but he blames the alcohol. He’d never been good at drinking. 

“Il Predestinato,” She teases, cracking one eye open to stare at him. 

He lets out a sound of disapproval. That’s not who he is, that’s who people want him to be. 

“No?”

“Definitely not,” Charles’s words are quick. But he doesn’t know why he cares so much. He doesn’t understand why he feels the need to tell her - a stranger at a house party - how he feels. Why should he explain who he is? Why should she know?

“Who are you then?”

Charles doesn’t answer, looking down at his hands. He didn’t want her to know him as that, he wanted her to just know him as Charles. Just a normal person. Like everyone else. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I only know about F1 because of my brothers.”

Her words make him look up, “You don’t watch it?”

“God, no!” She snorts, “What could be more boring than watching a bunch of cars going in circles.”

“Hey,” Charles says, trying to sound as offended as possible, “That’s what I do for a job.”

He looks over to her, and she’s smiling up at him. The stars twinkled in her eyes, she waited for a moment before pushing forward, “Well?” 

“What?”

“Who are you?”

He breathes for a moment. Just sitting beside her watching the wind blow through her hair, he just breathes.

“I’m Charles.”

“Just Charles?”

“Just Charles.”

With a hum, she closes her eyes. She offers her own name and Charles thinks its the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard - like a prayer falling into the  night sky. 

“Nice to meet you, Just Charles,” She adds and Charles decides he wants to hear her say his name for the rest of his life. 

Silence gathers over them once more, but Charles finds that he doesn’t mind. It was as if the world had fallen away. As if there was no one left in the world besides the two of them. Two beating hearts, standing at the edge of the world, holding onto each other because there is nothing else for them to do. 

There is no one, Charles thought, as beautiful as she. 

His heart drumming in his throat, he gathers the courage to ask what she’s doing tomorrow. 

____________

Charles doesn’t want to leave. Thinking for the first time, that Bahrain could pass him by. 

“You’re going to miss your flight,” She whispers against his lips. 

He loves her. 

He’s so very sure that he does. How could he not?

Her smile is so bright, shining in the darkness of his apartment. With his luggage piled by the door, and Andrea waiting outside, he wants to stay. Just here with her. 

“Come with me,” His voice is soft against her. 

“You know I can’t,” Her smile doesn’t falter and she doesn’t move any further from him, her arms tight around his middle. He does know. She has a life here, a job that she loves and Charles would never dare pull her away from that.

He fakes a pout, jutting his lower lip out. She lets out a gentle laugh and Charles doesn’t thinking twice about joining her.

“I’ll be watching,” She promises, pressing a gentle kiss to his nose, “So make the whole ‘driving in circles' thing interesting for me.” 

Charles can’t help the grin that grows wide on his face. He tries to pull her even closer, dropping his head down to the crook of her shoulder. He breathes her in, letting her fill his lungs. He presses a kiss to her neck, a small butterfly peck, but it makes her giggle. 

The sound of her laughter filled him with light, ‘I love you,’ he nearly says, but then, there’s the blaring sound of a car horn ringing from the streets below. He’s late. But he doesn’t care. 

“You have to go!” She puts her hands against his chest, guiding him backwards, until he nearly trips over the threshold of the front door.

He whines out her name, “No…”

“Yes.”

“I’ll miss you.”

“I know,” Her smirk makes him lean back over her. His hands find her waist, and he plants a soft kiss on her lips. 

“I’ll be back.”

“I know you will.”

When he has to pull away from her, it hurts. Something throbbing in his chest and he isn't even out the door yet. She helps him gather his bags, but there’s a small frown on her face. 

He straightens himself, pulling his luggage out the door. He turns to look back at her, and she’s rushing back up to connect their lips, “Be careful, Charles.”

“I will.”

There’s a silence that begins to inflate around them. The nothingness of midnight creeping upon them, he can swear that he hears their unsaid ‘I love you’s floating in the air. 

“I -”

There’s another car honk. 

“You,” She says, her hands pushing the door shut, “Have to go.”

He does, tumbling from their apartment as she shuts the door in his face. She’s waiting for him when he comes back from Bahrain. A smile on her face and he forgets the ache in his bones or cramp in his legs. He’d rushed back to see her. Nearly pushing past the reporters and speeding through the driver's debrief afterward. 

Charles hopped on a plane first thing, still smelling of gasoline and champaign. The victory still singing in his veins, he felt as if he could soar to her, gather her in his arms and float to the stars. He’d won and he was returning to her as a champion. Though, he knew, deep down, that he could’ve returned p20 and she’d love him regardless. 

He has to stop himself from kicking their apartment door down. Anticipation heavy in his stomach, his hands shake as he slots the key through. It opens with a quiet click, the light of the hallway spilling into the darkness of the apartment. The silence curls around him, and for the first time, he can feel the exhaustion in his bones. Pressing against him, reminding him that he’s traveled halfway across the world. 

He pulls his luggage through the threshold of the door, dropping it in the living room. He knows it won’t be unpacked until days later, even more, he knows he’ll need to be gone in just a few days time for the next race. 

The thought makes his heart hurt, but the sound of soft feet against the wood floor draws him back to reality. Before he can even ask, she’s standing before him. Clad in his sweatshirt, with a blanket wrapped around herself, she stands right before him. 

His beautiful, beautiful girl. 

“Welcome home, my Champion.”

His blood burns as he crashes his body into hers. Locking his arms around her, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. She smells like home and it makes his head spin. He’s missed her so fucking much. 

There was nothing that could ever take this moment from him. 

Holding her in the darkness of their home, feeling as if there’s no one else in the world but them. He is so very in love with her. Her love twists around him, filling every crack in his soul, hoisting him from the waters of his self-doubt. She is the sun that shines in the morning and the moon that glows at night and he loves her more than anything. 

“I missed you,” He mutters against her skin, his voice muffled by her shoulder. 

She lets out a soft chuckle, the air that escapes her mouth floating past his ear, “I know.”

He smiles, trying to burrow himself further into her skin. He missed the heat of her touch, setting him aflame in the best possible way. 

An eternity feels as if it's passed, but they just stand there, holding one another. The world ticks slowly by them, but they don’t mind. The stars waltzing in the sky above them, the sleepy city below them, they are perfect where they are. Just here. In the moment. 

“Welcome home,” She pulls back slightly, only enough to angle her face to his and he pulls back just enough to face her. 

The sight of her takes his breath away. His body craves her, it sings for her, “Thank you for the welcome.” 

His hands find her waist, sitting just upon the small of her back, “Will you let me show you how much I missed you?”

There’s something that dances in her eyes, it makes the fire in Charles’ stomach grow brighter. She smiles coyly up at him, staring at him through her eyelashes, her hands pressing themselves against her chest. 

“If you must,” She says, but the blush in her cheeks betrays her. 

“I must.” 

He doesn’t waste another second, scooping her into his arms. He’s nearly running to their bedroom, swallowing her giggles with a kiss. 

Fuck, he’s missed her. 

All of her.  

__________

They’re together in Austria. Charles managed to convince her to take the week off to be with him and he’s glad he did. To have her here with him, finding her beaming face in the crowd, through the spray of champagne, meant more than everything. 

She was staring up at him like he held the world in his hands, like he’d carved the moon and stars. It makes him wish that the ceremony would speed by, that he could just throw himself at her and fall apart in her arms, the exhaustion creeping up his spine. 

The road leading up to this race was hard, and for a moment, Charles feared that this race would be lost to him too. He was still trying to keep himself in the Championship race, trying to never let Max get too far out in front of him in points. 

He could do it, he was sure of it. He could be the World Champion. 

“Hello, my Champion.”

With her, he could. 

She found him in his driver's room trying to peel his soaking overalls off his body. The sight made her burst into laughter, the arms had gotten tangled around his middle and he was stuck. 

“You are just going to stand there?” He questioned with a laugh, “Horrible.”

She threw her head back, setting her bag onto the couch by the door.

“But you still love me,” She said, walking towards him. She reached for his sleeves, pulling them apart and helping him step from his suit as it pooled at his ankles. 

He looked down at her as she worked. What? Love?

It was true. He loved her. He loved her more than anything. More than everything, but neither one of them had said so. It wasn’t that they were afraid, they weren’t - he wasn’t. It just…their feelings always felt so real, so palpable. He never doubted for a moment that he loved her or that she loved him, he just knew. So saying those words - saying that he loved her - never felt like it was demanded. He was in love with her and she knew.

“Perhaps you are right.”

“Perhaps?” Her eyes grew wide as she feigned offense, but she couldn’t hide her smile, “Charles Leclerc.”

“Perhaps,” He cut himself off, hands falling to her waist and pulling her close, “Perhaps more than just perhaps?”

For a moment, she stared up at him. There it was, those feelings burning in his eyes, but she knew. She hummed, letting her chin rest against his chest. He could feel her heartbeat, it was almost dancing with his. He was at peace. With her in his arms, just here. Breathing. 

Silence balloons around them, and he feels the comforting weight of the nothingness. His heart had calmed, the champagne on his skin had dried, and he was finally with her. His beautiful girl. Charles had just won a race but she didn’t love him because of that - she loved him and he just so happened to have won a race. 

He tightens his arms around her. Here, they're perfect. Nothing more to be said, nothing more to -

“I don’t want to lose this,” her words pop shatter the silence and Charles can’t stop the way his body pulls back. 

She tenses, and before he can apologize or tell her that it just startled him, she’s pushing forward. Her hands found him, bringing them to her chest, “I don’t want to lose you the way you are now.”

“What are you talking about?” He can’t stop the question. 

“I mean this,” She gestures around them, “You’re happy and smiling and you’re…you.”

Charles is sure that confusion takes its form on his face because she lets out a big sigh, “I’m saying, I don’t want racing to change you.”

“Racing made me.”

She purses her lips. That probably wasn’t the right thing to say but Charles can think of nothing else. It’s the truth. Racing made him. He was crafted from oil and smoke, blood and tears, roaring engines and blurring lights. He was the creation of the track, of the world of motorsport - it was his blood. Even if he didn’t want it to be. 

It was everything he was. 

She doesn’t frown, but Charles knows she wants to. 

The air is colder and he hates it.

“You won’t,” He tries, “I promise to make the circles interesting for you.”

She doesn’t smile, she just looks up at him with a hint of sadness in her eyes. 

Something in his chest grows tight, “You won’t.”

He pulls her close once more, and she sighs against him. He rests his forehead on hers, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes. 

“I promise.”

She stares at him. Her beautiful eyes filled with so much emotion, burning right through him. She can see him, see all of him. There is not a single part of him that he can hide, there isn’t a single part of him that he wishes to hide. He’s open for her to see. 

“I love you, Charlie.”

His mouth goes dry. The words nearly knock him off his feet, but she’s there to steady him. She loves him, his heart begins to drum and he can’t help the smile that pulls across his face or the fireworks erupting within him. 

“I love you and I don’t want to-”

“I love you,” He cups her face, pulling her impossibly closer “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

He can’t contain it, the fountain of words, but he doesn’t want to. He wants her to know, needs her to know. 

“I love you.”

Forget everything else. 

__________

He’d lost. Ferrari had screwed him over yet again. It was eating away at him, this was his dream, this had been the only thing he had ever thought about when he was young. He’d finally gotten it, he was here. He was where Jules should have been, where his father wanted him to be - and it was going to shit. 

He stormed into his driver's room, throwing his helmet into the corner of the room. He was a few seconds away from destroying the Ferrari regalia that sat around him, taunting him. The tiffosi hated him, he hated himself. It wasn’t even his fault. 

Charles wanted to scream. 

Anger was hot in his veins, searing his body as he began to tear his overalls off. A stupid tire decision had cost him the entire race, he was forced to watch Verstappen rush past him, snatching victory. His victory. Embarrassment made his face burn, and he pushed his face into the palms of his hands. 

How could this happen? They were just on top, riding the high of the beginning of the season, why was it all starting to fall apart for him? Why now? He was supposed to be the one, he was ‘Il Predestinato’ - it was supposed to be his victory. Charles was the one that was going to drag Ferrari back to the top. It was his job, his dream, his burden. 

This was finally supposed to be their season - all the testing, all the simulator hours, all the meetings, all the changes - it was supposed to be different. But it never was. 

Never with Ferrari. 

“Charles?” He heard a few knocks accompanying the voice, it was Andrea. 

“Leave me alone,” Charles muttered. He was going to feel terrible for talking to Andrea like that tomorrow, but that was for the next day. Today, Charles was allowing himself to wallow in his self-pity. 

He heard the door of his room squeak open and spun around on his heel, anger hot in his veins, “I said -!”

She’s standing there with wide eyes. 

His rage dies in his throat.

“Mon ange…” He steps towards her, the tension releasing from his shoulders when she doesn't step away, “I-I am so sorry. I thought  - thought it was…”

He’s too flustered to fully speak, losing his words. His brain is a mess of french and english. But she doesn’t rush him, she doesn’t even laugh. 

“I know,” She says, closing the door behind her, “They told me you were in here.”

Charles stares up at her, unsure of how to apologize - he doesn’t know what to apologize for. For being a failure? For screaming? For -

“Get out of your head, Charlie,” She whispers, he hadn’t noticed she’d crossed the room. Only snapped from his thoughts at the motion of her hand reaching up to cup his face. Though he yearns to feel her touch he turns away from it. 

He doesn’t deserve it, not now. 

It’s so very embarrassing. To have lost like that in front of her. He wishes the ground would open and swallow him whole. 

“Charles…” She breathes, and the hurt that passes across her face makes him want to scream. 

“I - I,” He finds her eyes again, “I am sorry, I can’t.”

‘How am I supposed to face you like this?’ He doesn’t say. 

She walks up to him, taking his hand in hers. Her skin is warm against his, he can feel the rings on her fingers and the bracelet on her wrist fall against his. She drags him to her, wrapping her arms around his middle. 

“Stop,” She says, “Don’t do this. Don’t shut me out, Charlie.”

When he twists his head to the side, unable to look at her, she captures his jaw. She makes him face her, staring her straight in the eyes. 

“Don’t.”

Her eyes are full of unyielding love and fierce passion. She looks so serious - a furrow in her brow - it nearly makes Charles burst into laughter. Her grip on him is tight, and he can feel her fingernails on his chin, but it grounds him. He’s anchored to her and he never wants to leave. He just wants to be here forever. 

With her. 

Without everything else happening outside, just the two of them. Together. In love. Happy. 

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, his voice hoarse. 

“You don’t have to be.”

“But I am,” He reaches up, moving her hand from his face, “I am a failure. I am stupid.

“Charles -” She begins, he can see the anger in her eyes. She hates it when he says things like that, hates when he even jokes like that, but he can’t stop himself this time. 

“I am,” His voice is slipping from him, anger falling into his tone before he can stop it, “I have lost. We were on top of the world and now we are here, I have led us here.”

“How could it all be your fault?” She squeezes him. 

“It is,” He can’t explain it. Truthfully, he doesn’t know it himself, but it is just how it goes, “I have lost, I am nothing.”

“That is not true,” Her voice wobbles, but she keeps her steady composure, eyes fiercer than ever, “You are so much more than just racing. You know that.”

He didn’t. Racing is all he’ll ever be. It’s was he was bred for, he knows nothing else. There is nothing else. 

“I am not.”

“Yes, you are,” Their voices are raising and there’s a small part of his brain that’s worried about others hearing them. The room has little to no real soundproofing. If the tabloids are waiting outside, or even just standing near, this will be all over tomorrow. 

“You are to me.”

Something in Charles snaps. Knowing he’s everything to her, knowing she’s everything to him. But also - with a feeling of dread - knowing that he is nothing without racing. That he is nothing without Ferarri and though he may hate it, he doesn’t know how to live without it. He doesn’t know the world without it. 

But to be with Ferrari is to win. 

He hasn’t. 

“Who would ever want to be near me if I am not champion?!” He screams, “Who would ever love me?!”

She doesn’t miss a beat.

“I would!” Her  eyes glisten with unshed tears, “I will love you no matter what. I will love you even if you never race again, I will love you.”

Charles has nothing to say, breathing heavy as he listens. Her words weigh on his chest and he begins to cry. The tears come and he can’t stop them, not even if he tries. He drops his head into his hands and cries. He doesn’t sob or scream, he just weeps. 

The anger and sadness boil into one, they melt into each other and now, Charles can’t tell the difference. She pulls his hands from his face, and Charles turns away from her. 

He’s so pathetic letting her see him like this. Crying like a child over a race result. 

But she finds his eyes. There are tears in hers too, rolling down her cheeks and it only makes him cry harder. He’s such a -

“I love you, Charlie,” She whispers, pulling him down by his collar, locking her arms around his neck, “My Charlie.”

He’s frozen for a moment before he collapses against her. Weak hands grabbing at her clothing. He sucks in air, trembling lungs unable to do anything else. The smell of her penetrates his lungs and he’s filled with the scent of her perfume. She is air and water. His body feeling at ease with her, in her arms.

She holds him as he cries, hands buried in his hair. He grips onto her, fingers digging into her waist. He’s terrified she’ll float away, that something will take her from him. But she never leaves, cradling him until his cries diminish into sniffles, and his sniffles turn to silence. 

Charles is still full of emotion and it threatens to spill over, but he isn't afraid to show her. Not to be open to the expanse and warmth she provides. 

“I love you,” He breathes. He chants her name like a prayer, following it with, “I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

I love you. 

I love you. 

I love you.

______________

The apartment was silent when Chalres rushed in. The anger, still burning within him. It seemed to be all he could feel these days. Searing hot anger and drowning disappointment.

He was never at peace, there was no calm. The championship had slipped from his fingers and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop it. It wasn’t even his fault, he’d done his best, put in the hours - the care - but it was so far beyond his hands. Ferrari was his dream and now he was left feeling utterly hopeless. He had never experienced heartbreak like this one, being let down by the very thing he has sacrificed his entire life for. It was all for Ferrari - all of it - and now, he was a loser. 

It fucking sucked. 

Charles pulled his luggage behind him. The break couldn’t come soon enough. He was tired from being out on the road, he just wanted to be home. He wanted to be in his bed, in her arms. He wanted to feel loved, cared for. 

He could feel the ache in his back and his legs, sitting still on a plane was never his favorite thing. The thought of sleep was so wonderfully appealing. As he began to pull his clothes off, dumping his things by the couch, he heard the soft patter of feet. 

Charles couldn’t hold the heavy sigh that left his lips.  

“Charles?” He heard. The light of the hallway flickered on, and she was there, a shadow at first, but then she approached him. There was a smile on her face, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. 

“You’re home,” She breathed. 

He reached for her, body calling for her, but just as he did, he drew himself back. The anger bubbling within him all over again.  

He stood there, crossing his arms, refusing to meet her gaze, “I told you to sleep.”

She waited for him. 

She waited for him and he couldn’t even face her. 

There was a part of him glad she did. Seeing her was like a breath of fresh air, it was resurfacing from the dark ocean of his misery. Just the sight of her face made his heart warm. But those feelings were buried under his anger. He had returned to her a loser. A failure. 

How could he ever face her like this?

“I’m going to bed,” He declared, moving to brush past her.

“Charles,” She called, her voice made him stop in his tracks, stern in its tone. 

He shut his eyes, a sigh escaping past clenched teeth. He was exhausted, he couldn't do this, not right now, “Please.” 

“Please, I - I am tired. I just want to sleep. Tomorrow is a very busy day, test at the factory, then simulator -”

“Tomorrow?” Her eyebrows furrowed and she closed the distance between them, “Charles, tomorrow is -”

“I know,” He raised a defensive hand, hoping to stop the disappointment that rolled from her in waves. It filled the room and only served to make his stomach twist further. God, he really was a piece of shit.

“I have spoken to him. He says that it is fine, and I can always just take him out another day.”

“He’s your brother!” She reached out to touch his arm, staring up at him as if he’d just said the most absurd thing in his life, “He’s been looking forward to this for ages, you can’t just cancel -”

“He will understand!”

Charles continued, “He understands the important things. This he will get.”

For a moment she was silent, and Charles swears that his voice echoed. There was something in her eyes that Charles couldn't make out, it made his palms sweat. He hates this. He hates fighting with her. 

“Family used to be important to you.”

Charles felt like he’d just been slapped in the face. 

Before he could stop himself he screamed, “RACING IS IMPORTANT TO ME! IT IS EVERYTHING!”

She pulled away from him, taking a few steps back. His words hung in the air and Charles wanted nothing more than to take them back. He’d realized it before he could fix it, and when he reached for her, she kept her arm close. 

He whispered her name. It was a prayer, “M-Mon Ange, I -”

“I’ve lost you, Charlie,” Her voice is so soft and thin, it makes Charles want to cry. 

Charles can’t speak. Trying to swallow through the thick ball of emotion curled in his throat, 

“What are you talking about?” He asks. He’s just wasting time now. Just trying to prolong her time with him, maybe even get her to stay, “I - I don’t understand.”

He understands perfectly. She was right. He let this fury consume him, he let the racing consume him. He had no idea where he began and Ferrari ended, he wasn’t even sure he had a place anymore - it had all become one. He was lost. 

But he had never imagined he would let it rip her away from him. 

“Charlie -”

“I - I can fix it,” He rushes, casting his hands out, he reaches for her. He needs her now. He’s drowning and she's all that’s keeping him afloat. 

“Ne pas partir,” - ‘Don’t leave me’ - he begs, “Je ferai tout pour toi…”

‘I will do anything for you.’

She stares up at him. There are tears streaming down her face, her brow furrowed. Her eyes are full of heartbreak, he can see it, he can hear it. And all he wants to do is fix it. 

“I love you, Charlie,” She whispered, “But we’re just - we just can’t right now…”

“We can,” He pulls her closer. Charles needs her to feel him now. He knows he’s all anger and flame, but he needs her to feel the love that resides within him, he’s lost but he will always love her. That will never fade. 

“You’re not mine.”

“I am!” 

“You’re not,” She said, and she didn’t even need to explain, “And that’s okay.”

Charles has nothing else to say. 

He looks in her eyes and knows, there’s nothing else he can say. 

The drive to her apartment is slow, he feels like he’s crawling past the streets, turning into the steep corners. All he can do is wish this moment will stretch on forever, wishing he could keep her there with him forever. 

But it’s over. 

He’s ruined it all. 

When he does reach her building, pulling into the parking lot with a small screech, neither one of them move. Neither of them want to leave - at least, Charles doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t want her to walk away, not like this. 

Not when he loves her. 

“I-” He tries, not sure what to say, “I don’t - I am not -”

She reaches over, her hand sliding past the console that separates them, and interlaces their fingers. She doesn’t say anything, doesn't even turn to look at him, but he can see the tears fall down her cheeks. He can see the way they glimmer in the moonlight that seeps in through the windows, he wants to reach over and catch them. 

Charles hates that he’s made her cry. He hates that he’s not strong enough for her, not right now. He hates that he’s made her so miserable, so tired. He loves her. 

Charles loves her more than anything. 

He just wishes he could have picked her over everything. 

They sit in the thick of their feelings, not saying a word to the other. Just there in front of her apartment building, clutching her hand. He prays she understands. That she can just hear the drum of his heartbeat - that she can hear the way it dances for her. That she can see the imprints of her love on his soul - that she sets him alight. That she can feel the way his breaths come easier because she’s around - because she’s the air he breathes. 

He needs her to know. 

There’s a part of him that is sure she does. 

But he doesn’t want to shatter the thread of silence holding them together. He can’t risk losing her. He doesn't want to push her away anymore, he can’t stand to be any further. He knows it’ll kill him. 

He knows -

“I would never ask you to leave racing,” She hasn't looked at him, her voice low. 

Charles wishes that she would just scream, that she would hit him and scream. He wishes she would explode in anger, maybe beg him to change his mind and he would. If she asked him to, he would.

But she would never ask him.

Never because she knows he would. 

Never because she knows it would rip him apart, but he’d do it because she asked. 

“But please,” She pulled his hand close, “Please don’t let them destroy you.”

Her words hang in the air and he can’t stop himself from leaning over the console and kissing her. 

Her lips taste of salt, but he’s not sure if they’re her tears or his.

____________________

A/N:This work has been cross posed on Wattpad and AO3. All are under the name XDACTED. Thank you for reading and feel free to requests fics about any of the drivers <3

[theresapossibilty01]

Relax

Demetri Volturi x Reader 

——————————-

The knock echoed through the bathroom, (Y/N)’s eyes briefly snapping open before closing again. She sunk further down into the water, the warm, bubbly waves gently crashing into her neck. She sighed, hoping that if she ignored whomever it was, they would simply give up and go away.

She hadn’t had a lot of free time since her arrival in Volterra, the guard keeping a close eye on her since discovering she was Demetri’s mate. She had specifically set aside a few hours in the evening for herself, wanting to spend that time to pamper herself in the bathtub that she had yet to use. She had only been in there for a little over an hour before Demetri had decided he must see her now.

“Love.” He called from behind the door, the smell of her peppermint soap filling his senses. His eyes shut as he leaned against the door, collecting his thoughts. “You’ve been in there an awfully long time. Are you alright?” He listened carefully for the sound of her breathing and heartbeat.

“I’m perfectly fine, Demetri. I told you earlier I just wanted some time to myself.” She sighed, trying to find the headspace she had been in only minutes prior.

“It’s getting late, you should think about going to bed soon.” He jiggled the knob, eyebrows raising when he found it locked. “(Y/N)..” He trailed off, frustration rising in his chest at the fact that he was locked out. He hated not being able to see her.

(Y/N) sat up in the bathtub, careful not to move her face too much in order to not disturb the face mask she had slathered on. “I’m relaxing. This is my time to be alone. I’ll come out soon, I’m almost done.”

Demetri sighed, stepping back from the door in order to abide by her wishes. He only wanted his mate to be happy, and he hoped that these few hours alone would do that for her. He walked back through the halls of the castle and to the throne room, taking his spot on the other side of the door from Felix.

“Is your human alright?” Aro asked, a smile playing on his pale features as he looked at the young guard.

“Yes master.” Demetri nodded, the scent of your soap still lingering in his nose. “She just wanted some time alone.”

“How sweet.” The smile was still wide on Aro’s mouth as he turned back to his brothers, continuing their conversation as if Demetri had not interrupted.

(Y/N) had decided to hurry up her bath, not wanting to upset her mate anymore than she already had. She was almost done anyways, having already washed her hair, body, and the mask off. She lathered her legs with soap before taking the razor to them, wanting to shave down the stubble that had started to grow. After a few passes over her sensitive skin, the razor had nicked her knee, a small, slow trickle of blood streaming into the clear water. She winced, holding her fingers tightly to the cut in order to stop the bleeding.

The metallic scent of her blood wafted down the halls of the castle, each vampire in the throne room looking up to find where the smell had come from. Demetri felt his whole body stiffen, panic rising through him as he took a step toward the kings. “Master.” He spoke quickly, wanting to be dismissed to check on you.

“Go.” Aro dismissed him with a slight flick of his hand, watching as Demetri left in seconds.

He was in the bathroom in an instant, the door that had previously barred his entrance now hanging by its hinges.

She shrieked, trying to cover her bare skin with her arms, her eyes watching him as he kneeled down next to the ceramic. The water was a light pink by her leg, his silky pale hand reaching into the warm water to find the source of the blood.

“Il mio amore.” He whispered, his thumb pressing onto the cut skin. “What are you doing?!” He kept his eyes on her face, wanting to respect her and her privacy.

“Just….shaving.” She answered hesitantly, watching confusion flash onto his face.

“Shaving?” He echoed, his hand still placed firmly on her bare leg.

“Shaving..my legs. The hair on them. It’s a normal thing to do.”

He looked back down at her legs, his free hand running down her calf. He smiled at the softness. “Humans tend to change very quickly, it’s hard to remember what is considered ‘normal’ for you now. I cannot remember women doing this when I was human.”

(Y/N) chuckled, goosebumps rising on her skin from where his cold hand had touched. She was surprised by his gentleness and self control. “I think the bleeding has probably stopped now, it wasn’t a deep cut.”

Reluctantly he pulled away, his body already craving the warmth of both her skin and the water. “It’s time to get out and go to bed darling.” He stood up, grabbing the towel off the rack and opening it. He turned his head, eyes on the floor as he heard her stand up and the water start to drain. He gently wrapped the cloth around her body when he felt her approach, only turning his head to look at her when he was sure she was covered and snug in the towel.

He placed a kiss atop her wet hair, breathing in the clean scent. “I’ll be up in a little bit. Dry off and go straight to bed.” He placed one last kiss on her temple, unwrapping his arms from around her so she could go.

“I’ll be waiting.” She spoke over her shoulder, biting her lip as she walked into the bedroom. He smiled, shaking his head before racing back down to the throne room.

He stopped Jane, begging her to take the rest of his shift so he could hurry back to you.

[alberivh]

The gravestone of the wilderness — (scraps)

diluc x gn!reader — fluff, angst, comfort/hurt, death, implied werner syndrome, memory loss.

the second stage of diluc’s life, death and you.

a/n : a very very messy writing which were written by me for 2 days…? please listen to je te laisserai des mots while reading this, it would improve your imagination more <3

oh to be a normal couple. Lying in your frail shoulder, diluc exhales his heavy breathing. Trading the air with a brain of oxygen and beauty of life, he let your hands wrapped to his arm. Soothed his messy-red-hair and hearing the whisper of the freedom. Near the lakes of the winery, stand your figure and diluc seeing the sunset in mesmerized glances. It was a peaceful evening, even the birds seems too peaceful that it hurts your soul. The world isn’t fine, how come everything became so peaceful today?

“diluc, quick question..” , you called out his name. Stealing the sunset gaze from diluc’s eyes. His breathing is heavy, his heartbeat is unexpectedly warm. Yet you found his presence a little bit too cold..and too fragile.

“and..what is it?”

“who’ll die first, me or you?” , the question is simple. Like a sword to a warriors body, straightforward and cut short. You pay no attention to diluc’s tighten grip, avoiding his eye contact is the way you make his answer straight and honest. After all, you only want to hear his intentions, why did he still seek you even after your condition worsened? He could had the chance to escape from your affection 3 months ago but why did he stay? Did he pitied the unknown for not being the best of his life?

“you” cold and strong. His whole sight focused on your eyes. Anxiety fills it, tears could even force itself to leave your eyes if diluc told you how your eyes show everything. He seen through you and for so many time, he predicted your words. I don’t have any days left diluc.., is your favorite line. The one he thought to be a bullshit.

“just as i expected”

“but you do know i’m not your doctor right?”

“i trust my lovers instinct better than the doctors, they’re a bunch of creeps anyways” , the sunset falls to the edge of the winery before you could finish your reply. the infuse, the breathing machines and the ventilators were all beside you, accompanying you these past weeks. it was bothersome to bring them all together, but thanks to diluc, you could felt as if you were alive. and with no essentials-help you are fine.

diluc saw your anxiety trembles to sobs. the sunset was over and thus—began the starry moonlight which bright to the breezing sky of monstadt.

“thank you..diluc…” , you carefully clinge to his arm. Hugging it tightly without letting your infuse disturbed the warm of his body. your fingers gone numb but his warmth, it radiates so much energy and comfort to be alive. tears fall to his jacket, the moonlight was yet to be found and here you are pleading your lover to stay. Even if you’re both better dying off alone.

“dying off young is pretty tragic don’t you think? Like us..”, whispering your thoughts under the darkened sky and to diluc who was staring empty at your eyes. It was quite and clear to be hear in diluc’s ear but maybe he prefers to drown himself to your frail shoulder, so he could escape from the reality you were going out from his lines.

“y’know diluc, if i were alive till the 32 years of your life, i’ll be happy to laid on our deathbed together..” , a not so sappy thought to be precise. But diluc tries to understand from what are you implying to say, he doesn’t want to make himself fooled by the guilt of his past.

“and what makes you say that?”

“diluc we all know that i’m dying, i couldn’t always stay like this can i?” “I just want to be free that’s all..but diluc…i don’t wish for someone to forget about me…i want them to know i’m used to be alive and well, i want them to know i’m in love.” — i want them to know i’m in love with you diluc, i don’t want to leave you behind. I don’t want someone to abandoned me behind. I love you diluc. How many times have i told you that? I lost count.

minutes feels like seconds, under the starry night you felt nothing but warm. The warm of his heart and his radiance, although it seems like a facade to hide from your sharp-vision. He is beautiful. but with diluc’s lips under your dry mouth, You could feel more the presence of his fading-figure. Wandering through his palm, the space of his cold fingers and his salty tears. He was crying out of madness. He was frustrated that he couldn’t been able to save you from your draining thoughts.

the sharp needles inside your infuse feels numb. The breathing tube wasn’t as heavy as before. Diluc lips is the only thing you could feel. Under the moonlight, he drops his devotion to his knees. Hands wrapped to your delicate-fragile self. Under the days he left you behind, he apologize. As Now he is humming your lips with hopeless wishes. His kisses are soft, gentle as the wind. Pyro seems so warm to your cryo vision. Unknown for love and ambition to be bear. so this is how falling in love feels like?

the sunrise have awoken, another day has finally begun. Sitting at the balcony with his brother, reading letters and wishes from his inner family circle. Eyebags have grown to diluc’s glance, even his wrinkles start to form onto his charming face. His hair start to fall out to thin airs, leaving half of the once burning red to a pale-silver colored. Enjoying his time with the breeze of the sun, diluc realizes kaeya standing figure. he must be going somewhere..

“Kaeya where are you going?” , voice gone frail. His voice aren’t as strong as before. Even his flatter organs are better than the rusty voice kaeya heard.

“to visit someone, it’s their birthday afterall..want to join in, good-master di—“

“shut up don’t you say that name again” , crossing the words. He exhales his breath. Giving himself an opportune moment to breath the fresh morning air. He flinch to the song of the birds, watching them fly ti the air while the letters flew to the side of the tables. it was a peaceful day for diluc to rest, but nonetheless..he always forgot them. Them who aren’t here anymore. father..and..who are they again?

“Alright big brother diluc ragnvindr..just sit on your wheelchair and prepare your stuff, we’re going to windrise right now.”

“It’s not vennessa’s birthday kaeya, why’d you want to take me to windrise? Are y—“ cutting diluc’s voice, kaeya managed to give him the usual smug face on his sight. Making diluc seems more uncomfortable by his plan.

“Yeah yeah..just stick your butt on the wheelchair already mister, we’re going now woohoo!” , whistling to excitement diluc found his brother action to be quite..suspicious. The road was smooth, maybe because the land of winery belongs to diluc’s and his bloodlines, no? Windrise wasn’t that far from the winery, maybe it is far for someone like diluc to explore such an area in the first place.

Windrise, the inner nation of freedom. The location of free will and vennessa legacy. But why does it feel so..cliché for diluc to remember? He doesn’t remember anything about windrise. He doesn’t remember anything about dying, he doesn’t even remembered the gravestone in front of him now. The air was fresh. The leaves and flowers which grow from the small-location of the gravestone was unexpectedly beautiful. The name which were craved in it was unreadable, maybe it was..once. But never again it would be readable to diluc’s eye.

“happy birthday (name)..me and diluc is in here to plant some cecilia’s..would you mind? Ah if you do..you could breeze the bells there, please don’t mind diluc, he’s lost right now.” , kaeya pleaded to downfall of the gravestone. Whispering questions and rants for the owner of it to know. The bell rang and under the wing it sang. they gladly appreciate your visit, diluc. Kaeya steal his glance to diluc’s unfocused eyes, it look as if it were questioning every each of it’s memories. Who are they and why does kaeya think of them as one of the part of him?

Planting the seeds of cecilia under the ground of the suspicious gravestone. The Crystalflies even surrounded it with grace, as if they all belong to their first habitat, the gravestone of the wilderness. Who are they and why are their remenance so…beautiful?

“hmhm, goodjob. Thank you for accepting our birthday offer..diluc and i will go now, farewell for now, see you soon” , cleaning the dirt from the gravestone. Diluc once again asked kaeya’s answer. But nothing could be found from his brother mouth, it seems it was hidden for diluc’s sake.

“you’ll recognize them again diluc, sooner or after.”

soon never came. Kaeya wasn’t here, he was already gone from the resident, Taking diluc’s place aren’t that easy after all. pale and unrecognized, diluc came to his once work office which he never touch any longer. Searching for documents for kaeya to read for him later at night. His fingertips are still the same, numb and empty. I lack something but what are they…? This uncureable piece of shit was such a bothersome.

oh..what is this..?

a letter? — opening it with caution, diluc found the sight of something he craves. The writing of those who couldn’t be recognized by his mind, yet the feeling..it was warm. So warm and comfortable, that it even shakes diluc’s empathy.

to, my sweetheart, diluc ragnvindr.

i never knew when would you opened this but i think you opened it few years since i have died. I know the side affects of your ilness. So i wouldn’t mind if you forget me all along. It’s not your fault for leaving your old memories and life behind, your ilness is one of the part of your issues diluc and I totally understand that, better than kaeya, better than adeline or elzer. And if you forget about me, it’s fine. You don’t need to remember me, just read this all along alright?

Diluc, my swetheart. You probably found this crumpled behind your documents. Maybe kaeya would found it first than you do and it wouldn’t be much of a problem for me to bare, after all i’m dead and even if you apologize i wouldn’t dare to say i would forgive you. Cause diluc, i’m hopelessly in love with you. I love you diluc. Even if you forget me, even if you died in your old age and disastrous days, even if you don’t love me any longer. I’ll be very happy if you could still read this letter. Your curiosity is the reason i’m alive for once diluc. Your warm is the reason of my short-recovery diluc. You are everything. And if you forgot, then it’ll be fine. Read this letter everytime you felt lost, because no home without your lover, no? Ah nevermind that’s a shitty joke isn’t it diluc? Hehe

I’m very satisfied with what I’ve achieved in my lifetime. I got to be with you and your family. I feel like i’m apart of them, apart from who i become. I escape and i’m alright. I’m alive and it’s all because of you diluc. I’m happy. Very happy. But one thing i couldn’t regret more is the fact i couldn’t marry you and tell my devotions to the crowds. I want you foreve diluc, but our time is short enough for each other sake. Fate was cruel, but it’s fair and merciful. It gave us a time to met each other and i’m thankful.

So diluc, whenever you feel lost. Feel free to found me in the crystalflies and in the starry night of the winds. Whenever you need me, i’ll be there. just so let you know i’m the donor of your heart, please don’t regret the fact i’m sharing my life with you. I’m happy to know you are alive, diluc. As long ad you enjoyed your days and live a well-long life, i’ll be happy to give you my everything. I might couldn’t give you this year, but here. Open this envelope, it’s a present. For what exactly? For your own love, diluc. Accept it, would you? I don’t mind if you wouldn’t, but if you want to wear it, feel free to use it.

I’m very happy to be alive diluc, i love you.

The letters ended and so do his tears scroll through his cheeks. The crystalflies in the gravestone. Oh it’s you all along..? Why didn’t you cry out of regret? Are you happy for what diluc became? Are you, my dear…? He was scared of letting you loved him again. He deserve nothing but your hatred. The envelope, it was fill with your charm bracelet. The matching bracelet you used to talk with diluc.

The gravestone, the cecilia’s..? Aren’t those the promises diluc made before? i’ll grow garden of hundreds cecilia’s with you. But he forgot. Your existance are nothing to him anymore, he lost his senses, he lost everything. This heart..your heart. It was pounding rapidly, it even showed diluc emotions again. He was crying in pain. He was crying in sorrow. Oh god, i wish i’m not that weak. I wish i still love you the same as how those letter told me. Darling, will you love me again? No response. He was truly out of his mind to forget the ones who bring his dimmed eyes back alive. So once again he confesses, falling to his knees as he begged for his mind to remembered you.

The days have past so did you died in his eyes. Casket opened and emptied with your body, cecilia all over the ground. You are dead and yet the pounding heart of yours are the result of love. Strokes his body with empty thoughts, he began to murmured again his love.

your heart..it’s warm, My dear.

TAGLIST : @mikachuchu , @zierx, @childeluv @urujiako , @chichikoi , @noirkkat , @aphrodicts-imagination

[aphroditestummyrolls]

👀👀👀 8 or 53 (or 8 and 53?) for the intimacies prompts?

Take drabble prompts, she said to herself, you can keep them short, she assured herself. (She was lying). This is almost 1.5k hahahahaha I’m insane, but this was also so much fun and I’m really glad I decided to do it. Thanks so much for participating, friend! I loved the ones you picked.

8. Brushing noses, and 53. Listening to each other’s breathing

He was much more grateful for the heavy weight of his new winter finery out in the purple glow of the terrace than he was in the heat and light of the ballroom.

For all your bitching and moaning about the soupy summer, the cold of the mountains makes winter it’s own beast… Yusuf griped, pristine snow crunching under his dancing shoes. Mama would have told you to be careful what you wish for, silly boy.

He took slow steps to the bannister, puffy with white flakes, and let himself sigh out a long breath. He was still hot, reveling in the refreshing chill of the air. And the quiet. The swell of music and the titter of laughter was more distant now than the short distance would usually imply.

Yusuf’s exhale curled past his lips in a swirl, dissipating fast before his eyes.

The snow covered gardens of il Palazzo seemed to glow with a lavender light, radiating up into the deep night sky. It glimmered like a sheet of diamonds, illuminating everything under the moon— both pale and dark, muffled and crystalline clear, Yusuf felt like the world was all his own.

Perhaps it’s cold, he found himself smiling, flexing his fingers with his need for a warm hand in his own, but at least it’s beautiful.

He hadn’t been able to stop his racing thoughts all night. What would Nicolò look like in the fine dancing clothes of noble northerners? Even in Yusuf’s? Would he be well suited to cyan velvet, to silver constellations glittering in the fabric over his collar, and up the soft gossamer undershirt at his neck? The crown weaved into his curls would look so handsome, maybe even more fitting, on his gardener’s head. Yusuf thought he was as elegant, as kingly as any of them.

Could that ever be? His heart swept up like a bird in the cage of his chest, trying to fly at the thought of a world where Nicolò could share his life. He and Nicolò, Princes, husbands and partners— it was a nice dream.

He could dream. He was good at dreaming.

Even the company of Andromache and Quynh was not enough to keep his mind from wandering. Yusuf wished for him with every round of dancing, and every stolen moment.

Like now. He wished for him now— an arm at his waist, or callused fingers intertwining with his cold hand.

The snow crunched under feet that weren’t Yusuf’s, and he turned, glancing back at the golden light of the gauzily shrouded ballroom. The only track of footprints were his own. The night went quiet again, only broken by the warble of strings, but something had shifted in the air on the snowy terrace.

Yusuf couldn’t help the curl of his smile as he turned back to face the bannister, looking down and into the glittering expanse of reflected moonlight.

“Che bellissimo.”

The words curled into the air on a swirl of frost. Pale eyes blinked up at him, taking in every stitch of thread, every gleaming jewel on Yusuf’s most regal tunic. Nicolò was slack jawed, staring up at him as if he were every star in the sky. He hardly resisted the urge to preen, instead reaching out, leaning down where the bannister held them apart, and took his hand.

“Yusuf, you are the sun.” He breathed, taking his outstretched hand in both of his, kissing the knuckles. It made him warm, like the tingle of wine in his bloodstream.

“Ya Amar,” he barely breathed his reply, “you are too far away, all the way down there.”

Nicolò chuckled against the hand at his lips, curling into a smile against Yusuf’s skin. He looked up, playfully through long lashes, and kissed again.

Them, he hurried away, and Yusuf scrambled along the bannister to the far side, following Nicolò’s steps on the other side of the marble— away from the lights of the ball and the tittering laughter of stuffy nobles.

The shadows of the side of the palace were cold, but not for long.

Nicolò was up the small side steps in a blur, hands on Yusuf’s waist, walking the both of them back into the stone corner. No windows, no prying eyes— Yusuf warmed his hands by twining them into the silky brown hair, pushing the hat from his head.

His lips were dry from the winter air, but it didn’t matter when kissing Nicolò. Broad hands stroked up and down his velvet covered back, and Yusuf ached for him.

“It’s been days, where have you been?” He panted between fervent presses of lips.

Nicolò pulled away, only far enough to press their foreheads together, brushing the tips of their frosty cold noses past each other.

“Preparing for the festival, just as you’ve been, your Highness.” He breathed in, slow and steady, pressing one last kiss to the corner of Yusuf’s beard before fixing him with a proper look. “You received my gift?”

The twinkle in those green eyes said he already knew. Yusuf nodded, humming at the memory of the vase of jasmine and roses at his bedside. “You bring the springs of home to this far away winter. You got my note?”

“I hold every word in my heart.”

He squeezed him round the waist, whispering the words as a secret. They were secret— every word, every stolen touch, every flower in Yusuf’s chambers.

Suddenly, he couldn’t bear the thought of returning to the warmth of the ball, alone. He could not stand a single moment of genteel, political dances with fake smiles and simpering small talk— he would be itching out of his skin.

He wanted Nicolò at his side. He wanted arms around him and kisses on his knuckles, pressed close.

He wanted to dance with him in front the eyes of anyone who could see. But the music was no more than a faint melody lilting through on the swirls of snowy breeze.

Listening to the soft echo of the tune, Yusuf found his hands slipping down from that hair, cradling the nape of his neck. He looked Nicolò in his eyes, the moon just barely lighting the planes of his face, and he loved him. He wanted to show him to the world.

He couldn’t.

“What’s wrong?” Nicolò’s breath curled in the air, and he barely broke the hush of the snowy night.

Yusuf cupped his cheek, holding him, studying him.

He shook his head, clearing it as well as he could. Just as he was about to dismiss the furrow of Nicolò’s worried brow, the song changed. It seemed to wrap around them— a waltz.

“Would you dance with me?”

His surprised laugh was more of a muted snort, but Nicolò was smiling. Yusuf felt his heart in his throat, even after all these months of tender steps into each other’s orbits. Nicolò did not have to say yes.

“Dance with you? Right here?”

“We have everything we need— you, me, music, and the moon.” Yusuf only stood straighter, extending his hand just like he had to many a noble guest that evening. But this time, it all felt real. His smile was soft, his frostbitten nose was rosy and cheeks flushed— the snow under his feet crunched, and it felt real. “May I have this dance?”

Nicolò’s palm was broad and warm in his own when he took it. They stepped in close, close enough that the clouds of their breath curled together, mingling. Yusuf took Nicolò’s waist, wrapping him in his arms, and led them in a slow, gentle waltz, never stepping too far from their corner of the world.

It was nearly silent— the muffle of snow and the secrecy of their corner keeping the bulk of the sound away from their ears. There was only the thin strain of the waltz, with its violins and warbling clarinet, and the soft rhythm of breathing. Yusuf could picture it even with eyes closed, their cheeks pressed side by side, the way Nicolò’s tendrils of silver breath caressed over his ear, along his neck and shoulder. He felt so secure. So loved. Hoping his gardener could feel it too, Yusuf took a measured inhale and a long, contented sigh. He pressed his warm lips to the sensitive skin of his neck, nosing at his pulse just to listen to Nicolò’s answering hum.

They turned in slow circles, leaving footprints in the glittering whiteness beneath their shoes. The music was an afterthought. The dancing, even, was beside the point.

Yusuf felt Nicolò’s heartbeat pressed flush to his own, the cage of his ribs expanding and deflating with his soft breaths as he spun them in interlacing circles. What was important was the man he held, the hand that cradled the nape of Yusuf’s neck, and the footprints in the moonlit snow, declaring that they had been here. That their love was real.

Perhaps, he thought, winter is not so bad after all.

[bartxnhood]

prompt list.

1. “i don't care. i'm not letting you get up until i know that you're one hundred percent better again.”

2."Shh, you're safe. I won't let you go."

3."I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified."

4. “You haven't been yourself lately.

5. “I don't want to lose you, too.

6. “Just talk to me. Please.

7. “Stop pushing everyone away.

8. “You told me that you were okay! You promised!"

9. “Why didn't you tell me?!"

10. “How long have you been covering this?!

11. “You need to wake up because I can't do this without you."

12. “Go ahead and leave then. Everyone else always does."

13. “| know I shouldn't love you, and yet I still do."

14. “You can't die. Please don't die."

15. “Please tell me you aren't dead...”

16. “I have you, it's okay."

17. “I got you, don't worry."

18. “Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that."

19. “I'm okay, you're okay, we're okay."

20. “I'm not going anywhere."

21. " i know this hurts, but you have to stay awake."

22. "i just want to be numb, i don't want to feel anything."

23. "you don't care, nobody cares, just leave.

24. "you're my friend, of course i fucking care."

25. “Losing you would be a nightmare that every day I beg to awaken from."

26. "Touch her, and you're dead."

27. "'Il come back for you, I promise."

28. "They'll have to go through me before they get to you."

29. "tell me where it hurts.?"

30. "how did this happen?"

31. “Don't die on me- Please.”

31. "you're shaking, what's wrong?"

33. “no, you're not fine. you need help."

34. 'i'm gonna fix you right up, okay?"

35. "i can't stand seeing you in so much pain."

36. " i have to do this now or you're going to die."

37. "i know it hurts."

38. “hey there - you gave me quite a scare.”

39. “i'm tired of laying here in this stupid hospital bed.”

40. "I don't care what they think, to me, you are perfect."

41. “will you just look at me?”

42. "delete that! i look disgusting!” “i think you look beautiful!"

43. "I don't like the idea of you walking down the streets all alone."

44. "I don't feel safe letting you be alone when you're in that shape."

45. "You can't tell that I am in love with you because you were too busy loving someone else to notice me."

46. “Can I convince you to stay?"

47. "i know this hurts, but you have to stay awake."

48. "You stay awake, do you hear me?! Don't you dare close your eyes! Please!"

49. "Shut up okay? I'm getting you out of here, we're going home."

50. "could you hug me again? i think i need it.”

51. “you can call me whoever you want. even if you don’t have a reason”

52. “no like.. it’s just, i can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes”

53. “who did this to you? tell me. please.”

54. "I won't let you go through something like that again."

55. " i feel like i could watch you all day. everything you do has a touch of magic to it.”

56. "I'm a monster." "No, you're not."

57. "I'm begging you, please don't lock yourself in your room."

58. "i screwed up, all right. but i never once lied to you. i've done a lot of shit in my life, but loving you is different.

59. "a broken heart is a small price to pay when you're not the one who has to pay it”

60. "I've always wanted to thank you, but was never sure how."

61. “you want me to kiss you, don’t you?” “no.” “look into my eyes and say it, then maybe i’ll believe you.”

62. "Every fucking day, I wish you're mine - every single goddamned day."

63. "He treats me well -" "Good for you -" "But he's not you."

64. "You lied. You lied and you lied and you lied and I, the fucking idiot that I am, believed you. Well, guess what? I'm not that person anymore.”

65. "Look at me in the eyes. Tell me you never loved me. Tell me that I meant nothing to you. Tell me that this was all a lie."

66. "We can start over. I'II do anything, everything can be perfect. Just please don't leave me."

67. 'you don't have to shy away from me'

68. 'i love every part of you'

69. 'baby, what makes you think that'll make me think of you differently?'

70. 'don't hide your scars from me, they're beautiful

71. 'i love that about you though'

72. 'who cares what they think, it's what you think and what i think'

73. 'i personally love everything about you'

74. 'never say that about yourself'

75. 'you know how upset it makes me when you talk down about yourself'

76. 'look in the mirror and tell yourself you're beautiful*

77. 'take my hand, you don't need to be nervous, okay?'

78. 'i'm right here for you, im not going anywhere'

79. 'don't be insecure babe, please;

80. 'don't say that, i love your entire body'

81. 'these make you look even more beautiful'

82. 'don't apologise about your past baby'

83. "you got like two hours of sleep last night." "when did i tell you that?" "oh dear god."

84. "You're the most insanely beautiful thing I've ever seen and oh god you're just perfect and I'm rambling." "Are you drunk?"

85. "i know this is foolish. i know I AM. but i keep wanting you, why can't you understand that?" want me. but you don't want us."

86. "I'm TRYING okay? fuck my feelings, it's fucked but one thing that I'll always be sure about is my love for you. I fucking love you and i don't fucking know how to act around you. Okay? I--" insert kiss here

87. "Baby, don't make me spell it out for you... you know I want you."

88. "You're blushing so hard, all I did was say "I love you" in French."

[be-bi-do-crime]

Omg hey! I’m so exited to read the Valentine’s Day collab!! I love love loooove your writing so much!! So anyway I wrote my first Carulia fanfic and I just wanted to ask you what you think of this small bit? If it’s bad please tell me-I wanna improve🥺

If you don’t wanna critique it I totally get it, it is kind of long.

..

Julia POV

Warm rays of sunshine brushed Julia’s freckled cheeks, making up for the bite of frost in the air. The sky was a cheerful blue today, reflecting her mood. She was sitting at a street corner, admiring the view of quaint little shops that resembled the cutesy designs of dollhouses.

Saturday morning chatter rung in her ears in soft, eloquent words of French that were so different from the English required for her job. A frenzy of Bonjour’s (hello/good morning) and Comment allez vous? (How are you doing?) could be heard from across the street.

It was good to be home, to have a day off to enjoy the beauty she had forgotten Poiters possessed. As an avid traveller, there was nowhere quite like the city. Nothing could match it’s charming, Romanesque buildings or tranquil solitude.

Julia smiled at nothing in particular, a flaky, warm croissant in one hand and a timeless romance novel in the other.

How long had it been since she had gotten to relax like this? To enjoy the nature of her city and not have to chase a certain red rogue across the globe? The very same red rogue she struggled to protect from her coworkers?

A sigh escaped her lips. Suddenly her mind wandered to someone she hadn’t wanted to think about: Carmen Sandiego. The thief never ceased to plague her thoughts lately. A warm blush tinted her cheeks as she recalled the kiss they had shared in Cairo, Egypt. There was a sort of thrill in knowing it was so, so wrong, and Julia hated the adrenaline rush it gave her.

Their last interaction had been a week ago, and it had been on an ACME mission rather than the late night visits the thief had begun to pay her. The absence of the red rogue pained her terribly. She missed Carmen. She missed everything about her from her cunning gray eyes to her knowing smile, the light rasp to her voice, and the feel of her lips. She had barely gotten to see the lady in red recently.

Would this be what a relationship with the woman would entail? Random visits sprinkled through the weeks while Carmen gallivanted around the globe and Julia had to pretend she wanted her behind bars? Would she be doomed to live with this uncertainty, this emptiness?

At her inner turmoil, the thief seemed to appear before her with her signature smirk, the curl of her lips forever ingrained in Julia’s memory. Hallucination-Carmen spoke, reciting the promise she had made her not too long ago. “We can have a normal relationship, Jules. We’ll be able to see each other everyday, go on dates, do all of that couple-y stuff. I promise.”

Julia had scoffed at that, of course. Maybe in another world where she wasn’t dating a thief, for goodness sakes. But still she wished there was some way the red rogue could fulfill her promise. Julia knew that what Carmen was doing was absolutely important but....she couldn’t help but be selfish and wish she had her to herself.

On top of that, though, there was the fear that whatever was happening between the two was nothing but physical on Carmen’s end, that this...fling...would be over in a heartbeat and the red rogue would once again disappear with Julia’s heart, only this time she wouldn’t return.

She didn’t want fo think about that.

Trying to take her mind off her worries, Julia reopened her book. The petite woman frowned, nibbling on the last of her pastry and lazily scanning the page for anything interesting. It was one of her favorites, yet she couldn’t bring herself to relax, to forget.

Sighing, she closed the book with a sense of finality, tucking it safely in her messenger bag. It was no use. Nothing could keep Julia’s attention from Carmen for long.

“Partir déjà?” Said Nadia, Julia’s friend and the cashier. The woman adjusted the side of her hijab before opening the cash register. “Habituellement, vous passez toute la matinée ici lorsque vous êtes absent.”

TRANSLATION: “Leaving Already?.....Usually you spend the entire morning here when you’re off.”

Julia smiled sadly. “Quelque chose me vient à l'esprit ces derniers temps, Je ne peux pas me détendre.”

TRANSLATION: “Something has been on my mind lately. I can’t relax.”

Nadia smirked knowingly. “Querelle d'amant?“

TRANSLATION: “Lover’s Quarrel?“

Julia felt her cheeks heat up. Nadia was one of the few people who even knew she was seeing someone, let alone the fact that that someone was a thief. “Entre autres, oui. Il s’agit plus de mon travail.“

TRANSLATION: “Among other things, yes. It’s more about my job.“

Nadia shook her head, making a tut sound. “Tu travailles trop dur.“ She inserted her credit card into the register, swiping twice before the transaction was complete. “Vous savez, les filles et moi allons au Buckingham Club ce soir. Tu devrais venir. Je parie que cela vous fera oublier ... quel est son nom? Carolyn?“

TRANSLATION: You work too hard....You know, the girls and I are hitting the Buckingham Club tonight. You should come. I bet that’ll take your mind off of...what’s her name? Carolyn?“

“Carmen.“ Julia corrected with a smile. “Et Je ne sais pas, pas ce soir. je n'en ai pas vraiment envie.”

TRANSLATION: “Carmen....I don’t know, not tonight. I don’t really feel like it.”

“ S'il vous plaît? Ce sera amusant!?” Nadia replied, making an exaggerated pouty face.

TRANSLATION: “Please? It’ll be fun!”

“Je ne devrais vraiment pas.....”

TRANSLATION: “I really shouldn’t...”

The cashier shook her head, pressing her lips into a thin line. “Oh, Julia, tu es toujours aussi ennuyeuse.”

TRANSLATION: “Oh, Julia, you’re always such a bore.”

Jules simply smiled in response, pushing the rim of her glasses up her nose. “Peut-être la prochaine fois, Nadia.”

TRANSLATION: “Maybe next time, Nadia.”

She said her goodbyes and left the small cafe, the little bell at the door signaling her departure. The cool, crisp air met Julia immediately, the frost already kissing her skin. She turned the corner, making a beeline for her apartment complex when suddenly, a certain beeping sound caught her attention.

A very familiar beeping sound.

She threw a discreet glance over her shoulder before darting into the nearest alleyway, ducking behind the nearest dumpster before removing her pen from her pocket.

Julia clicked the cap, tossing it to the ground as she wrinkled her nose at the stench.

“Agent Argent.“ Chief’s no-nonsense voice came as her hologram blossomed. “I have a new mi-“ She paused, taking in Julia’s location.

“Are you behind a dumpster, Agent?“

Julia felt her cheeks heat slightly “I was in public and had to be...creative...“ She replied curtly, breathing through her mouth.

“Right....anyhoo,“ Chief began again, adjusting her blazer. “I’ve got on assignment for you. I’m sorry to interupt your time off, but you’re the closest agent in proximity.“

Julia smiled sadly, scratching her wrist. “It’s alright, chief. I was feeling restless anyway.“

Chief cocked her head in mild concern. “I’m sorry to hear that, Argent. It’s nothing too serious, but we have reports of some meddling with the security systems at the Louvre. I need you to investigate.“

“Of course. Will Agent Zari or Devineaux be accompanying me?“ She asked, already picturing the splendor at the Louvre. Maybe a trip to the museum was just what she needed today.

“No. Zari and Devineaux are on a case in Santo Domingo.“ Chief said, beginning to pace the length of the alleyway.

“Khadija or Jonas, then?“ Julia replied, referencing two agents she’d been paired with in the past, albeit less frequently than Chase or Zari.

“You’ll be going it alone today. Intel indicates that Carmen Sandiego won’t be present. I trust you can handle a routine check up.”

“I’ll take care of it, chief.“ She answered, giving a small salute to her superior. Internally, Julia released a sigh of relief that she wouldn’t have to tail Carmen.

“Good. Transportation has already been arranged and the details should be on your phone.“ Chief said, crossing her arms. Almost simultaneously, her phone pinged with an encrypted email from ACME.

“Don’t disapoint me, Agent.“ With a terse nod, the hologram disappeared from before her.

Quickly, she darted home and changed into her ACME-issued suit before making her way to the train station. Paris was waiting, after all.

...

No matter how many times she frequented the city, Paris never ceased to amaze Julia with a million new places she hadn’t visited yet. The Louvre, however, was an outlier to the fact. It was Julia’s favorite spot to hit whenever she was in the area.

It had been One-Thirty when her train had pulled into the Paris Saint Lazare, a station settled on the right bank of the Seine and the one closest in proximity to her destination.

The Louvre lay before her in all its grandiose splendor, afternoon sunlight glinting off of the crystal pyramid and casting a rainbow into the burbling fountain before it. The Famed palace of the same name was set on either sides of it, the tasteful renaissance era architecture transporting her into another time.

Julia smiled. She knew every corner of the museum. Every nook and crany was immortalized in her mind from it’s renowned Petite Galerie to it’s extended Egyptian exhibit.

She removed her ACME card from her messenger bag, thumbing it’s side to allow her interpol credentials before going to speak with the security

As promised, a staff member was waiting for her once she got inside.

“Bonjour. Julia Argent, Interpol Britain?“ A tall, skinny man with hooded blue eyes and unkempt blonde hair stepped forward.

“Oui.“ She replied, flashing her badge. “Marcel Cardone?“

“Oui, correct.“ He answered in a thick French accent. “Thank you for coming.“ He said, gesturing for her to walk with him.

Julia smiled. “Bien sûr. J'ai été informé mes supérieurs de la mission. Pouvez-vous me dire quel semble être exactement le problème?“

TRANSLATION: “Of course. I was briefed by my superiors on the mission. Can you tell me what exactly seems to be the problem?“

Marcel spoke as he led her through the halls of the grand building. “Do not worry, I am fluent in English. I do not know the details but the head of security will inform you on the matter.“

“Sounds good,“ Julia said reverting back to English. Her guide stopped at a door with la sécurité (security) written in bold script.

“This is it, mademoiselle.“ Marcel said, opening the door and leading her to the back. Standing before her was another door. Probably to an office, Julia guessed. “Monsieur Toussaint? L'agent d'Interpol est arrivé.“

TRANSLATION: “Mr.Toussaint? The interpol agent has arrived.“

A tall, stocky man with brown skin glanced up, adjusting his glasses. “L'agent? Miss, le problème s'est corrigé juste avant votre arrivée.”

TRANSLATION: “The Agent? Miss, the issue corrected itself just before you arrived.”

“Il n'y a donc rien de mal avec la sécurité?” Julia asked, confused.

TRANSLATION: “So is there nothing wrong with the security?“

“Plus maintenant, non...” Mr.Toussaint answered, scrutinizing her.

TRANSLATION. “Not anymore, no.”

“Mais je suis venu tout ce chemin...” She answered, slightly disappointed.

TRANSLATION: “But I came all this way....”

The man scratched the side of his head in mild concern. “Nous sommes désolés, mademoiselle. Perhaps you would like a tour of the Louvre in compensation?”

TRANSLATION: “We are sorry, Miss. Perhaps you would like a tour of the Louvre in compensation?”

“No, it’s quite alright, thank you.” Julia murmured, tugging at the hem of sleeve.

“Please accept. Nous allons même le rendre gratuit!”

TRANSLATION: Please accept. We will even make it free!”

“If you insist.” Julia smiled awkwardly.

“Good.” Mr.Toussaint lifted the phone on his desk, dialing as he spoke. “Cheryl? Préparez-vous à faire une visite. Oui. Rencontrez-la près des statues.”

TRANSLATION. “Cheryl? Prepare to give a tour. Yes. Meet her by the statues.”

The balding man put the phone down, swiping through the many papers scattered on his desk. “Our tour guide, Cheryl, will meet you out by our Sculpture Department. Please enjoy your day.”

They exchanged goodbyes and thank-yous before Mr. Toussaint returned to the millions of files on his desk and Julia to the swarming museum crowds.

Deftly, Julia navigated the throngs of people, making her way to the modern sculpture exhibit. As promised a woman was waiting before the exhibit checking her watch.

Her dark red-brunette hair was pulled into a pony-tail, and a pair of green khakis and a blue blouse contrasting against her flawless brown skin. From the back of her head, Julia could see a thick pair of glasses settling at the rim of her nose.

She seemed familiar, so very familiar....

And then she spoke. “Enjoying the view, Jules?”

The light rasp, the sultry tone of voice...

The petite woman gasped. “Carmen?”

“Surprise.” The thief said with a smirk.

“What’re you doing here?!” Julia asked, confused. Was Carmen behind the security issue already being solved before she arrived?

“You must have mistaken me for someone else,” The Red Rogue grinned coyly, reaching over gracefully and slipping her fingers between Julia’s. “I’m just Cheryl Vasquez, foreign exchange student and Louvre Tour guide.”

“Of course.” Julia scoffed but played along. “And what would Cheryl Vasquez be doing touring the Louvre?”

“If you’re asking whether I’m here to stop VILE, then no. They aren’t trying to steal anything. I’m here of my own accord.” Carmen replied, her thumb tracing circles along Julia’s palm.

“So I suppose it’s just a coincidence that I was sent here on a mission?”

Carmen winked at her, her rouged lips relaxing into their signature grin. “Yep. A coincidence. Absolutely nothing more.”

A twitch of annoyance flared within Julia. Sometimes Carmen’s games could get tiring. “Well then, since you aren’t stealing anything, I’ll be on my way then.”

“What?” The thief said, for once taken aback.

“You heard me.” Julia began with a smirk, turning in the other direction. “Have a nice day, Miss Sandiego. The Louvre is quite the sight to see.”

“Not so fast, Jules.” Carmen grasped her wrists gently, pulling her in close. Julia blushed, her mouth mere inches from the thief’s. She parted her lips gently, her eyelids sinking lower. Her tongue flecked across the expanse of her bottom lips as she waited to meet the thief’s lips for the first time in more than a week.

“Huh?” Julia said in confusion as she felt the other woman’s heat move away from her own.

Carmen was no longer before her, lips moving closer. Instead she darted away from the smaller woman, a smug grin scrawled on her beautiful face. She waved Julia’s ACME gas gun in the air teasingly, throwing her a wink. “A theft in progress is occurring, agent. You’re lawfully required to follow.”

“Carmen!” Julia shouted in shock, not at all caring about the attention they were gaining from their fellow museum-go-ers. “Give it back!”

“Come and get me!” She called with a trickle of laughter, disappearing into the hordes of people.

Julia smiled despite her frustration and ran after her, for once not at all caring that her behavior was extremely unprofessional.

That was what Carmen did to her. She...freed her. Allowed Julia to relax, to sit still, to live in the moment.

Julia felt all the tension that had built up over the course of the week melt away as she pursued the chase and danced across the Louvre court yard.

She chased Carmen out of the museum, nearing the edge of the complex. “Aha!” Julia shouted, finally catching up to her lover and realizing a smile had formed on her lips.

“You’ve got me, alright,” Carmen smiled, lowering her lashes flirtatiously as her voice lowered teasingly. She slipped her arms around Julia’s waist being just tall enough that the shorter woman had to slightly look up to meet her eyes. “Now what’re you gonna do with me?”

Julia answered her with a kiss, feeling the thief’s bright red lipstick smear onto her mouth. The lady in red captured Julia’s lower lip with her teeth, chuckling at the ACME agent’s Yelp of surprise as she tugged. Every gasp that managed to escape her lips was swallowed by Carmen’s mouth as she pulled her closer with passion.

“Mhm, I’ve missed that.” Julia smiled. “I’ve missed you.”

“You aren’t the only one.” Carmen purred against her lips. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to come and see you...but...”

“It’s alright, Carmen. I understand.” Julia whispered, touching her forehead to the Latina’s and lacing her fingers through the thief’s. “Do you plan on telling me why you’re here, though?”

“Can’t I just pay a visit to my favorite ACME agent?” She teased, beginning to lead Julia out of the museum complex.

“At my apartment, yes. But here?”

“Okay fine....” The thief relented, turning away. Julia spotted a tiny tinge of a blush dusting her cheeks. Carmen? Blushing? “I....may or may not have had my team hack the museum security and leave a trace to VILE to get you sent here.”

“Carmen!” Julia hissed. “You could get caught! And for what? Just to see me? You can meet me at my apartment!”

“Hey, hey, what’s done is done, alright?” She said, her arms flying in front of her in attempt to calm her down. Then, she smiled. “Aww you were worried about me. That’s adorable.“

“Thats-Thats not!....Thats not the point!“ Julia tried to fight a blush but it was no use.

Carmen laughed, caressing Julia’s face and tilting her chin up to meet her eyes. “Hey. I know you mean well. I’ll be more careful from now on. Promise.“

“O...Okay.“ Julia murmured, the woman in red’s slate gray eyes catching her off guard.

“But...since you’re already here....we should make the most of it, no?“ Carmen smiled sweetly, for once with no tinge of smugness to it.

“Alright.“ Julia relented with a small grin. “So is this a....date?“

The latina winked, her teeth sliding over her bottom lip. “Do you want it to be?“

“No! I mean...I just thought...“

“Relax, I’m messing with you.“ Carmen said, taking Julia’s hands in hers. “The truth is...Jules...I wanted to prove that I’m serious about this. About us. You...mean a lot to me, and I want us to be about more than just random hookups.“

The petite woman felt herself smiling at the other’s words, and gave the red rogue’s hands a squeeze. “You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that.“

Carmen returned her grin, running her thumb over Julia’s knuckles. “Explanations aside, are you ready for the greatest date in the world?“

Julia’s brow tugged upwards along with her lips. “The greatest, huh?“

Carmen threw her a flirty glance. “Hey, I don’t settle for second best.“

“I can see that. Alright then, Miss Sandiego.“ The shorter woman said coyly, “Show me what you got.“

....

ANON!! THIS IS SO AMAZING OH MY GOD?? for your first fic this is incredible and i absolutely love how you write them!! everything is so in character and carmen absolutely would create an entire heist just to meet up with jules 😭

i don’t have much to critique: just a few minor spelling errors here and there and some misplaced punctuation but that’s it, everything else is so good?? i’m serious this gave me so much serotonin omg,,, if you post it on ao3 let me know and i’ll be sure to leave kudos and a comment!! <3

and thank you so much for enjoying my writing, i can say the same for you :D

[aunbeso]

Hear you me? Part 1

WARNINGS: angst, jealousy, trauma, fem!reader

SUMMARY: We might never know when is the last time we have the ones we love with us. You might not have one more chance. Goes along Hear You Me by Jimmy Eat World.

All seemed so pointless at this point. She couldn’t hear herself think straight anymore. A few hours ago all seemed so perfect, she’d finally land back to New York for a few days to spend with her boyfriend. Hey boyfriend. Somehow that still felt weird to say, to realize. Timmy, her childhood best friend, the one she’d talk to once in a while, now world-known actor, playing in major pictures, the one she’d actually sometimes analyze in class which made it that much more odd. He’d spend his summer in France, that’s where they’d first met. Their families knew each other well before the two of them were born. But right now, she couldn’t recognize the man standing right before her eyes. “You are unbelievable!”  She says pointing a finger at him right before sitting down on the couch, let out a deep sigh. “I never hold anything against you when you get touchy with co-stars. It’s a part of your job. You think I like it? No. But I try to deal with it. I trust you.” 

She couldn’t understand how he got so over worried and jealous over this one friend she had who’d been a bit too touchy with her over instagram stories. Thanks, long-distance. “C'est pas moi qui s’est laissé faire. Il craque pour toi, (Y/N). Il a toujours craqué pour toi.”* Timothée takes a breath, trying to remain calm but the fact that his girlfriend still lived on the other side of the world made him so desperate sometimes. Of course he trusted her. But he’d want to be the one able to be by her side and hold her. “Me laissez-faire? T’es pas sérieux? Il m’a jamais intéressé. Stp, juste arrête, ça devient ridicule-”** She gets up from the couch. “You know, I actually thought we’d have these few days to ourselves. We haven’t seen each other in months, Tim. Months.” She adds, tears forming in her eyes. “I didn’t know if we’d last. And now that we’re finally reunited, this is what you have to say. All that matters, do you even care that I’m here?” She backs off and walks towards the door. Timothée looks at his girlfriend, his heart breaking at her words. “(Y/N), please, look, I’m sorry, of course I care, I just missed you so much and I couldn’t take care of you all this time- I don’t want someone else to take my place.” He looks defeated, but he knows he’s in the wrong on this one. He shouldn’t have reacted the way he did. That she has every right to be mad at him. “I need air, Tim. I need to go home.” She adds, as her cousin-in-law is waiting for her by the car. Timothée opens his mouth, he should fight to keep her here with him, but he knows her well enough to know when to let her breathe. And she knows that Timothée seeing she called another guy to pick her up won’t help, but he’s the only person she could think about who would still be up. She only wishes he would stop worrying like he does. “You okay?” Her cousin-in-law asks and she nodds. “Let’s just drive, okay?”  Knowing right there and then that her boyfriend is looking through the window and that they’ve lost this battle.

She gets in the car and gets her seat belt on, letting her head fall on the passenger seat, closing her eyes. Her friend starts the car and drives away from Timothée’s place, well aware that something must have happened between the two of them for (Y/N) to call him at this time of night. She’d always been like a little sister to him, ever since he’d marry her cousin. He would get them to their house, in a heartbeat but he wanted to give her time to calm down and breathe. After a moment he looks at her. “Are you okay? It’s just you and me here.” He adds because they both knew her cousin, his wife, would be worried sick and also very curious about her cousin/little sister’s dating life. However, she just didn’t feel up to it. She opened her window, letting the fresh summer evening wind give her a sense of calm. “He got jealous over a stupid instagram video.” She adds, her voice tight and full of emotions she simply wouldn’t let out. “I thought we would be reuniting, and now he’s never felt more far.” She sighs and lets a tear roll down her cheek. They had been thousands of miles away and yet it felt like they weren’t on the same planet anymore. Her cousin-in-law slowly put his hand on hers and squeezed it to comfort her, in any way he could. “Please let’s keep this between us.” She asks before closing her eyes again, wishing it would have been Timothée’s hand right then.

The drive home seems like an endless road, (Y/N) is falling slowly into sleep, when she hears the car break suddenly, waking her up and she feels control being completely lost by her cousin. She doesn’t have time to react before finding herself in the car upside down. “Hey, hey, wake up.” She shakes her cousin in law, obviously unconscious. She tries to reach for her phone, way back in the car now as she feels warmth on her arm. Panic settles and she starts crying and screaming. “Allez.” She feels herself getting weak and falling into nothingness, only having the time to call her one and only’s phone. Showing a picture of the two of them kissing during a holiday in the South of France, before feeling herself passing out completely. He would hear her, he had to.

-----------------------------------------

Reading notes: translation

* “I’m not the one who let him, (Y/N) he has a crush on you, he’s always had a crush on you.”

** “Let him?? You’re not actually serious, right now? I’ve never been interested in him. Just stop, this is getting ridiculous-”

[caritobbg]

Secret Love Song (Part 4)

A/N: So.... this is the end!!!! Hope you like it guys!!  Sorry for my bad grammar, writing in English was never easy for me (even though I studied the language for almost 11 years HAHAHAHAHA) If you want me to write something else, feel free to tell me and I will try!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

--------------- Spencer POV’s

Rossi called me to speak at the bar, he was nervous. He had been talking to (Y / N) when the show started. I walked over and he asked me about what had happened with Kiara ... I was sorry I went out with her, she was a cute and sweet girl, we dated a few times but ... I couldn't do it ... I felt like I was betraying a part of me that He said "you are a fool, you do this only to forget how you feel about (Y / N), you are hurting her". I told him everything, I couldn't fool him, David Rossi was one of the best profilers in the world ...

"Do not worry child. Today is your chance to fix things ”he said smiling and looking back at the small stage that now had a black keyboard with yellowish keys from constant use. “… She will sing two incredible songs: one by the famous English band Little Mix, the second, an indistinct song that we will hear for the first time here live. Please give (Y / N) a loud applause !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ” "But... That’s... Is that..."

"Thanks Joey" she said smiling

(Y/N) began to talk a little with the whole audience and explain a little the first song that the girls talked about so much before. She looked beautiful in that burgundy dress, her black glasses ... she was beautiful! There are over 414,800 words in the English language and none came out of my mouth

"Speechless?" I heard Rossi say "Shut up ..." I said feeling a burning in my cheeks.

The music began as soon as the phrase ‘This is a shout out to my ex’ came out  we looked towards where our unsub was. His face said it all, he knew that song was for him ... I was glad, on the one hand, that that idiot got the hint, why? He deserves it, he deserves everything he did to her and more! I'd like to put my hands around his neck and… what am I saying ?! Come on Spencer, control yourself, you can't do that ... take a deep breath ...

"He's enraged" I heard him say over the intercom in my ear "After the second song he will attack" said Emily "he will not stand idly by" "As soon as you do something we will stop it" I said moving a little closer to the stage and closer to the range of vision of (Y / N).

She danced, sang, ran through the room with a timing and harmony unmatched by any of the previous participants. Once it was over, I could hear Penelope yelling and clapping with all of us, it had really been impressive, I had never heard her sing.

"WOW!" I said surprised "What ..." "Thank you all!!!! That was fun, ”she said smiling and laughing; she started talking about the last song, there was something in her voice that she couldn't decipher. Desperately searching her gaze, she wanted to understand what she meant by everything she was saying, until ... "I dedicate it to ...".

Me…

With a few gentle movements on the keyboard, she began to sing. With every word she said, that came out of her mouth, my world was collapsing. I shouldn't have told her about Kiara, what's more, I shouldn't have dated her, my whole being belonged to (Y / N), my heart, my mind, everything. Tears began to flow from my eyes as soon as I heard the last verse and our eyes finally met among the entire sea of people.

“Why can't we be like that? Wish we could be like that”

The kiss… our first kiss… was the only thing I could think about right now. I told him it was a mistake and I convinced myself that it was just that, a simple mistake, an impulse of stupidity. I wanted to reach out and kiss her again, tell her that that kiss made me realize that I loved her.

"YOU ARE NOT GOING ANYWHERE"

Cameron put his arm around his neck and pointed his gun at his head, while we took aim at him and Hotch, Rossi, and Garcia pulled all the customers out of Joey's bar. We started talking to him and we had the "plan" to try to come to terms, but he kept saying that she hurt him, left him to pieces and things like that, he was really OBSESSED with (Y / N) and had no intention of letting her go. I could see she was up to something to get out of her mooring, I panicked realizing she wasn't going to get out of this unscathed once she started talking to her about Si Me Falta Tu Mirada, one of her favorite songs by the Italian band. Il Volo.

“Tengo en pausa el corazón, abrazado a nada, aferrado a nada… tengo ciega la ilusión, ya no hay mañana...” 

Cameron started to drop her, we kept pointing; I managed to get (Y / N) to look at me and I felt my blood freeze when I could read that her lips said "I'm sorry"

"NO!"

Everything happened in slow motion. Three shots rang out: one from David's gun, the other two… from Cam's gun. I held her up before she hit the floor with a wound to the pit of her stomach and one to her chest.

“AGENT DOWN! SEND AN AMBULANCE! " I heard JJ say over the communicator.

“Please, stay with me (Y / N), stay with me” pressing to stop the bleeding “Hey, you'll be alright. Just… stay with me, ok? " "S ... Spence ..." closing her eyes "Open your eyes ... do not close them" "I ..." she started coughing letting a trickle of blood run from the corner of her mouth "Save your strengh, the ambulance is on it's way ..." she only smiled and closed her eyes saying i love you ... "Nonononono, please no !!!" putting a hand on her cheek "(Y / N) please, wake up, open your eyes"

"The ambulance is here !!" I felt someone screaming and grabbing my shoulders away from her when the paramedics approached. "Spence, she’ll be…" "I'm going with her" I said decided "Derek, I'm ..."

"We're loosing her!" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 3rd POV’s

"We're loosing her!"

His world came to a complete stop when she heard that phrase: we are losing her. Derek and Emily took Spencer by the shoulders to slow him down as they tried to get into the ambulance with Penelope and Rossi. We are losing her. Losing ... if they didn't get to the hospital on time ...

Spencer was in automatic mode, she got into the truck covered in blood, her blood.

Derek climbed up with Emily and they started for the hospital. Her gaze was on the window, repeating the scene over and over again in her mind: her eyes were no longer full of life, her face pale as snow, her smile, her voice ... everything about her was fading.

"We're here" he heard and got out of the car almost running to later meet JJ and Hotch, who were already with Rossi and Penelope.

"How’s she? She’s ok? " Spencer said in a whisper "She is in surgery," Rossi mentioned, observing him carefully, "they will try to stabilize her." "Will they try?" while he sat between them with teary eyes and moving her leg "She lost too much blood"

Time passed slowly once the agonizing wait began. JJ, Derek and Rossi practically forced Spencer to get up to wash up and change the shirt he was wearing.

"I know what you're thinking" said Rossi taking a clean T-shirt out of his travel bag "it's not your fault, none of us knew that she would do that" "Nor that Cameron would shoot" Derek put a hand on his shoulder "I know it will be fine" "The last thing she said to me before closing her eyes was 'I love you'" closing his and crying "and I couldn't tell her" "Hey, she's going to get out of this and you'll tell her" Rossi said, standing in front of him next to Derek "and..." “Guys, the doctor’s here” the three of them ran after Hotch to find Dr. Yennefer Silva talking to the rest of her teammates.

"We managed to stabilize her, the chest wound was slight, the ribs managed to stop the impact ..." reviewing her papers "at the moment she is in the intensive care room until she wakes up ..." looking at them all "Can we see it?" Penelope said grabbing her bag "if that ..." "Sure, but only two persons at time" he finally said to guide them to the room where he was (Y / N)

Their gazes began to blur when they saw her on the bed. Pale skin, weak breathing, cables and machines around her, the sound of her heartbeat was the only thing that filled the ears of her friends.

The first to pass were Hotch and Rossi, then JJ and Emily, Derek and Penelope, and finally Spencer, who stared behind the glass for a few minutes trying to gather the courage to enter with (Y / N).

"Guys ..." before entering "did any of you record the song?" almost in a whisper “Yes, I did. I'll send it to you now ”Penelope said and then saw that she slowly entered the room and sat next to her.

Once with her, he took her hand caressing it with his thumb and little by little his eyes began to water again. He felt helpless, anguished, full of fear.

* Come on Spencer, it's now or never. It doesn't matter if she listens to you or not, if you have to repeat it again. You have to tell her that you love her, that Kiara is like a sister, no romanticism ... don't be a coward *

"20% of unconscious patients after surgery or induced in a coma can hear what the other person next to them says, since their brain still has a minimal functional consciousness. I hope you are part of that 20%, although I would not mind repeating it again "he said with a small laugh" what I meant by that is ... that I need to tell you something very important to me and I want you to know it. " he paused for a bit before continuing "remember ... when I said I was dating Kiara? Well… she confessed that she had feelings for me… at first I felt happy, then confused and overwhelmed, I told her that my heart belonged to another person with whom I had a very special bond ” a lump came to his throat before move on with his confession “that person is someone I started working with 1095 days, 4 hours and 20 seconds ago, who makes me laugh with his silly little jokes, who loves coffee, books, classical music and Queen so much like me." * Don't be a coward, say so. Do it at once !!!!!! * “It's you (Y / N). Your personality, your voice, your simplicity, intelligence, the joy that you radiate in each room you enter, your smile… all that and more was what made me realize that you are perfect for me. I'm in love with you. I love you more than anything in this world "on his cheeks he felt the tears that since he entered had been containing" I wish you were not in this state, I would give everything to go back in time and have avoided all this "he took out his phone, checked her messages without letting go of her hand and she found the video that she had asked Penelope for "the song ... the song you wrote made me realize that I am a great stupid, how much I hurt you when I told you about Kiara, how much I love you…"

The hours passed and he did not move from her side at any time. It played the song over and over at a low volume so that he could listen to it without having to be shut up by the passing nurses.

"Hey, Spence, why don't you go rest and eat a little, I'll stay with her" “Don't worry JJ. I'm not hungry." She said almost in a whisper. "Are you sure?" "Yes ..." JJ sat on the other side looking at her; her skin stopped being pale and began to acquire a little more color "I think in a few more hours she will wake up, she is no longer pale" her friend just looked at her "Emily told us she wrote that song on the jet" "If I had spoken before, none of this would be happening" still crying "it's my ..." Interrupting “Don't say that. She will wake up and they can be together "getting up and letting Rossi sit once they stopped talking to the doctor to let them all in" she is strong, she will get out of this, I know Reid "

A slight grip on her hand made her look away, she was waking up. Her heart was beating millions per second, the love of her life was fine! A smile crossed his lips when he saw her open her eyes.

"Hey guys" she said smiling and hoarse voice "Hey little kid" Rossi took her hand "you gave us a big scare" "You were brave trying to get Cameron to put down the gun" Derek stood at the foot of the stretcher "(Y / N / N) !!" Pen said entering with Emily "Oh God !!! I'm glad you woke up !!! " giving him a little hug "Guys, we should go to see the doctor and tell her that she's awake" said Hotch smiling at Reid

"Hey" said (Y / N) once everyone left "Hey ..." taking her hand again "I thought ... I would never see you again" "Spencer" wiping one of her tears "I would never leave your side" "(Y / N) I ... ammm ... I would like to tell you something" "I heard everything" leaving him speechless "R... really?" "Yes" as she tried to sit up with her help "and I must admit I feel silly to have been jealous of Kiara" feeling her cheeks burn Spencer let out a small laugh “So… after you are discharged… do you want to go out for coffee? I know a small bookstore with a cafeteria near my apartment that I had never told you about " "I accept" he said smiling and laughing; she paused when noticing how close they were to each other "Spence ..." "Shh ... don't say anything" and then press his lips next to hers.

The world stopped for a few moments. They looked forward to that kiss, it was as if the sun and the moon collided in a perfect eclipse of the sun on an autumn afternoon.

"OH MY FUCKING GOD" they both turned to see Penelope along with everyone standing at the door. They both let out a small laugh and we looked at them smiling.

"I guess they should make it official, right?" Hotch said entering with everyone and congratulating them both.

----------------------------------------------------

[chiwoopsie]

ohh i know what you mean!! however there's nothing like the 10 minutes of pure happiness when i'm unboxing my kpop albums 😭

wow ok so first of all I think your opinions are definitely very much unpopular!!

re: hybe; i am somewhere in between you and the majority of this fandom like i hate hybe big time but i also don't think it's all that bad like it surely has some benefits to be a part of such big corporation, however renewal came as a surprise to me if i'm being honest but i guess it's another topic

re: hao's laugh; AAAA I 200% AGREE WITH YOU nothing like hao's giggles!!! heavenly sound

ok your questions!!! so no i have never seen them perform live unfortunately, but it is a big wish of mine <3 have you?

OK BUT PERFORMANCES I'D LIKE TO SEE LIVE!!!! i'd be good with anything if i'm honest but here's a few that come to mind

who - i just simply think it's their best choreo to this day (another unpopular opinion??) i would love to see it in front of me iykwim 🥴

un haeng il chi - i love it when hhu goes feral

light a flame - no explanation needed

habit - or any other vocal unit song !!

snap shoot - or any other freshteen song but this one is just the biggest serotonin boost for me!!!

ok i really don't think i have these uhhh great visions and inspirations and ideas of what a great/fun concert would be like, i'm easy to please all you need to do is sing/perform, so i'm good with whatever as long as they're there

anyways, the game i mentioned !! it's really nothing special but: put svt's discography on shuffle and write your first impression vs current opinion on the first five songs

- 💎

omg i really hope you get the chance to see svt live someday in the future!!! just for mentioning who, un haeng il chi and habit alone!! like your 5 song setlist is FIRE and i would pay to watch that in a heartbeat and it's basically 2017 caratland 👏😂👌 I did see them once during their an ode tour, it was my last concert i went to 😭 'twas a super fun time, i remember losing my mind when they did adore u and pretty u heh

OH YOUR GAME SOUND SUPER FUN IM EXCITED

1. 24H - not as good as their previous jpn releases but following up fallin flower is a steep task anyhow, definitely a new but not totally different side of svt though -> 24H choreo makes this song period. still ranks in the middle/bottom half of their jpn songs for me tho..

2. Chuck - omgggg what a funky lil fave from the l&l album! don't really get the whole 'thumbs up' choreo they had going for this one but whatever fits i guess haha -> very nostalgic now that i'm listening to it again. Chuck isn't really my style overall, albeit one of the top tracks from this album. It fits in with their whole energetic funky debut sound (rock, ah yeah and shining diamond comes to mind)

3. Back It Up - SIREN SIREN WEEWOO WEEWOO 🚨🚨 what a banger!! -> first impression still stands but i do hafta say that back it up doesnt rank suuper high within an ode, simply bc all the songs in an ode are 10/10 but if im in a mood, alexa play back it up! also i always forget that this is a hhu song lol

4. Home; Run - confused as to why the mv concept was a heist instead of a baseball game 😔 not to mention that the song has a lot of big band jazz in there and i wish they did a musical theater concept not unlike thanks-ish -> i really want to love this song more bc i think it's the perfect song for the theater kids of kpop but it still doesnt resonate with me for some reason :(( their james corden + mama performances were ironically the perfect stages imo and helped me appreciate it more

5. Good to Me - good first impression, fits with the season/you made my dawn concept -> hate to be a party pooper AGAIN but i dont really get how hyped some folks get about good to me lmaoo like it's fine?? and the choreo is secsi for sure but yea it's just okay...full disclosure that the ymmd albums are at the bottom of my svt albums list so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[elizastarling]

About Eliza

( sarah gadon, 33, cisfemale, she/her, march 31st ) Was that ELIZA STARLING née DUNN  ? I heard a rumor they work for the FAUST family, but who knows for sure ? They can be a bit SELF-RELIANT & IMPATIENT, but I also heard they can be ASTUTE & LOYAL. You’ll usually find them at FATES in their spare time, when they’re not being an EMERGENCY PHYSICIAN. You may want to keep an eye on that one ! ( jas, she/her, 24, gmt+1, trigger: OOC drama, april 15th )

Biography - death tw, pregnancy tw, miscarriage tw, alcohol abuse tw

Full name: Dr. Eliza Jane Starling née Dunn

Nickname: Lizzy (which she disapproves of)

Date of birth: March 31st, 1987

Age: 33

Zodiac: Aries

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Gender/pronouns: cisfemale, she/her

Eye/hair color: Blue, dark blonde (dyed lighter)

Occupation: Emergency physician

Gang affiliation: Faust

Hometown: Aurora, IL

Nationality: American

Relationship status: Widowed, single

PAST:

Childhood to college: Eliza grew up in Aurora, IL, with an older sister and a younger brother. She had a picture-perfect childhood, her parents were both teachers who encouraged their children to essentially be whatever they wished to be as long as they were kind and compassionate. Eliza was always an exceptionally good student, bright and naturally curious, she made it through high school with flying colors. For as long as she could remember, Eliza had a desire to help people and animals alike, but she eventually chose to pursue a medical career specializing in emergency medicine. Alternatively, she would have gone to veterinary school, but something about working in such a high-pressure environment simply drew her in.

College, marriage: Eliza had never given relationships much thought before she met the man she would marry at a much younger age than anyone expected of her. Her goal was to focus entirely on her career, but the day she met Michael, on the very same path as her to become a medical doctor, something about the combination of his rugged handsomeness and his brain had Eliza hooked instantly. They were inseparable throughout college, painting their future while others devoted themselves to partying and flings. Among their peers, the couple stood out, but it didn’t bother them for both simply knew they had found their perfect match. They got married in their mid-twenties, their wedding taking place on a whim but deep down, both knew it was inevitable, so they simply gave into their love and shrugged off what others had to say.

Moving to Chicago and working for the Faust family: Moving to Chicago and working for the Faust family was entirely Michael’s idea. Initially, Eliza was more than against it, not wanting to risk what they had worked for, both professionally and personally with regard to their marriage. Michael eventually talked her into it, he’d always had the gift of persuasion and ultimately, Eliza was always inclined to put her faith in her husband no matter how insane his plans sometimes seemed. Eliza insisted on continuing what she considered not only her job, but her calling, being a medical doctor, while Michael also worked as a crimson for the Faust family. For the most part, Eliza asked few questions about Michael’s work, knowing that if they broached the subject of killing and whether or not it was ever justifiable, it would most certainly chip away at their relationship.

Michael’s death (death tw, pregnancy tw, miscarriage tw): A few months prior to Michael’s death, their relationship had started to become more strained, in particular because both had agreed long ago that should they find themselves in the fortunate position to have a nice home and a financially stable background, they would like to try for a baby. What was lacking according to Eliza was safety, though. Despite the fears and doubts Eliza harbored, she agreed to it, once again putting her full trust in Michael and praying that the strain on their relationship would be cast away by a new addition to their little family. Michael was killed on the job on in January 2020 by a member of another gang. Two weeks after Michael’s death, a pregnancy test taken alone in what used to be their home confirmed that Eliza was eight weeks pregnant. She was able to listen to the baby’s heartbeat once before she suffered a miscarriage at 13 weeks pregnant.

PRESENT DAY (alcohol abuse tw):

Eliza still works as an emergency physician for the Faust family. Coming to terms with Michael’s death has been a whirlwind of emotions on some days, on other days, she feels nothing but sheer and utter indifference towards the things she used to enjoy, only her work giving her peace of mind. (That, and she also finds solace in alcohol, but she wouldn’t admit that to anyone). She still lives in the house she shared with Michael, not much of it has changed other than that she removed all pictures of them as well as Michael’s belongings. One day after the first anniversary of Michael’s death, Eliza stopped wearing her wedding ring.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

Work colleagues, Faust affiliates, Faust family members. Basically anyone who knows her and knew Michael.

Friends. In particular: Support system. The friend who is there for her during her darkest moments, of which there are a lot.

Potential love interest/initial attraction. Eliza knows deep down she hasn’t lost her faith in love, but she is very much scarred by what she went through. This connection would basically be at the very start of something that could lead to romance. However, in spite of her loneliness and desire to love and to be loved once more, Eliza would be very hesitant for part of her feels that pursuing another man is in some odd way a form of cheating on Michael as she has not dated anyone since his passing.

[the-world-of-naiyara]

I told you I would bombard you once you accept requests ^^. Could you please write how a long distance relationship looks like with Al :)

Ok, so... 

Your request inspired me and I got a little carried away. I really hope you like it. 

My fics won’t always be this long. 

Smile. 

Scholar smiled.

A couple of days ago, she had read an article that said that forcing oneself to smile forced the brain to release the hormones responsible for happiness.

She didn’t feel anything. Definitely not happiness.  

She waited.

But the icon didn’t change color. It remained as grey as indifference.

Alistair was usually punctual, yet he was 30 minutes late and counting. He hadn’t even answered Scholar’s messages.

And he’d cancelled their last two Facetimes.

Scholar tried, as she had for the past three weeks now to ignore the voice in her head.

She’d been quite successful at it too, using the Tadashi approved technique of burying herself under mountains of works.

At times, the voice was louder, though and it was always accompanied by Alistair’s face. Like nauseas, coming randomly, waves of tears threatened to push through. Luckily, she was always able to swallow them back down.

She had grown use to the regular heartbeat rush. It was like her heart was watching a horror movie filled with jumps cares.

The monster in her movie was him.

But Alistair wasn’t a monster. And that was the whole problem. He was like Edward Scissorhands, a genuinely kind person who was hurting her by mistake.

Scholar smiled again. A little more this time.

She waited with her Cheshire-cat-grinn but nothing was released. On the contrary, her throat tightened. As did her jaw as she tried to stop it from trembling.

That happened every time she thought of him, now.  Even though, this time was different.

All week she’d been able to calm herself by thinking about today. He had sworn he wouldn’t cancel like the last times and she’d believed him. Of course, the feeling that something was going on hadn’t vanished, but she had told herself that today, they would Facetime and all her fears would be put to rest.

Today, as time went by, her shield of reassurance was weakening, and the mob of tears was getting stronger, beating at the doors of her eyes, like savages.

Scholar took a deep breath.

“Stop being so insecure! Al loves you. He’s probably just really busy with his training and stuff. He loves you.” She repeated the last sentence mentally, but the mantra was pathetic.

The college book near the computer was teasing her. Laughing at the idiot who had decided not to take the sabbatical to follow her boyfriend to China, where he was practicing martial art and preparing for the up coming Olympics in a year. She grasped it and threw it against a wall.

Now, she was stuck in front of a stupid computer. Tied up by a sadistically love that forced her to watch as that light remained grey and still. Perfect representation of the death of her relationship.

If only she’d gone with him! Alistair trained about six hours a day. He didn’t have time to think about her. If Scholar had at least been with him, they would have lived together, ate breakfast together and slept in the same bed. He couldn’t have forgotten her. Now, he had been gone for three months and was already ghosting her.

He was a monster! What kind of good man ghosted their girlfriend?

“I hate him.” She cried without even realizing the wall were down and the mod of tears had invaded her.

She wished it were true. As of this moment, she wanted to hate him more than she wanted anything else. But her cruel brain, mocking her pain, kept shoving mental pictures of Alistair’s angelic smile in her mind’s eyes.  Screening all the time Scholar had spent with him back when they were together in Arlington. Their first kiss in the gym, Alistair, sweaty and gross and perfect.  The first time he took her home with him, in Texas. The first time he told her he loved her and how his freckled faces was washed out in red as he did.  

She looked at her immobile, colorless screen and felt an urge of anger at the Facetime app. She wanted to grab the computer and throw it against a wall. Or close it and forget about it.

But she couldn’t. Paralyzed by the infinitesimal possibility that he might still connect himself. Forty minutes had passed, and she just stayed there. Torn between the hatred of her own love and the love she felt for him.

When the app started ringing, Scholar shrieked.

The angelic face was calling her. Her insides were a twisted Slinky toy and her throat was closed for business. Her arms felt like the time she’d trained with Alistair. She could barely lift them. It took her so long to pick up that the call stopped.

                                            Missed called

 The red letter made the throat tightening worse. It was painful. The way it would be had her neck been in a vice grip.

She would have to wait until tomorrow to know of the future of her relationship.

But the app started ringing before she could react. A small wave of relief, the sting of hope and she managed to pick up, trembling.

“Babe? Thank God, I thought I’d missed you! I’m so sorry, I…” Alistair’s voice trailed off. Had Scholar been crying? Now, it was his turn to feel his heartbeat increase and it was beating faster than after any of the crazy cardio session he’d been doing here.

“Babe? Babe, what’s wrong? Did something happen? Talk to me!” Seeing his girlfriend crying and being so Goddamn far away was torture. He should have been there, holding her tight, reassuring her! Alistair grabbed the screen without thinking. “Baby please. Talk to me.”

It never even crossed his mind that Scholar could think he didn’t love her anymore and wanted to break up. When she was finally capable of voicing it, it was like falling face first on the asphalt.

Had it not been for the tears and the red, puffy eyes, he would have thought Scholar was kidding. “How? How on earth could you think that?” He said softly. “God, I… I’m crazy about you, Scholar… I’m so sorry!”

Alistair wanted to punch a wall. He wanted to punch himself. His hand stiffened on the computer.

“I was stuck in traffic forever. There was an accident on the road and my phone died right when I was answering your text.”

“You’ve been cancelling all our Facetimes!” Scholar scolded him, sniffing hard.

“It’s because I wanted to surprise you! My trainer here said that with my level, if I worked even harder every day, I could probably finish the training in six months instead of nine. I wanted to come home to you faster.”

Scholar felt all her pain, anger and despair being flushed away. She breathed out.

Alistair grabbed the other side of the screen now and got a little closer.

“Scholar, I love you more than anything. You should know that by now. If you think a couple thousand miles are enough to make me forget you, then think again. I’m coming home and I’m coming home soon. Just three more months and we’ll be together.”

Scholar smiled. This time, it was genuine. This time, she felt the happiness.  

[raelly-writing]

Prompt 10: Avail - FFXIV Write 2020

Honestly, this sort of stuff isn’t my strong point when it comes to writing, and I will freely admit to that. But, it seemed like a interesting idea and I got to note to myself some stuff I’d want to write about properly at some other time.

Start of the Il Mheg portion of Shadowbringers, spoilers applies as such. Some warnings about selfloathing language. I wrote this off from memory so not sure how it fits in with the game overall. ._.

---

As they left Lydha Lran and the elven twins behind, Minfilia kept her eyes on the road as she silently walked by Thancred’s side.

She’d angered him, going off on her own to heed that call in her heart to find the one who had returned the night sky to Lakeland. His harsh words, reprimanding her for leaving his side and getting caught still rang loud and clear in her ears. Digging her nails into the palm of her hands, Minfilia fought back the wave of heavy, choking turmoil that threatened to burst from her chest.

A burden, as always.

Hesitating for a moment, she dared to steal a glance at the hume woman that was walking on the other side of Thancred. Viana - the one he and Urianger had been waiting for to arrive. The one who could vanquish the Lightwardens for good.

Suppose, with her arrival, there was not much use Minfilia could be to them now. What use was a contingency when the desired option was available?

Before she looked away, she caught sight of the hard set to Thancred’s jaw. Unease rolled in her stomach. Was he still that upset with her, that it’d marred what Minfilia had assumed would be a welcome reunion?

Instead, a tense silence seemed to hang over the pair. Strange, he had always spoken fondly of her, even though… there had at times, when he was distracted by something else, been something sad and wistful in his tone. Perhaps she could ask Urianger, once they reached his house.

“So… I suppose it is my turn to ask how you learned to fight with a gunblade?”

The soft, uncertain tone took Minfilia by surprise, and she quickly stole a glance at Viana. It seemed so out of place from someone who appeared so imposing and relentless in battle. Not even the chaos of dealing with the pixies had seemed to face her much. But now, a small, hesitant smile quirked the corner of her mouth as she eyed Thancred. “Don’t tell me Radovan taught you, and neither of you decided to tell me.”

Suddenly, dark green eyes caught her gaze, and despite the friendly look in them, realising that she had been staring, Minfilia quickly lowered her eyes to the cobbled stone road once more.

“No, I picked it up while in Garlemald,” Thancred replied, his tone light and unbothered. “Ran into a fellow by the name of Rostik, one of your teacher’s old comrades, there. After giving him some help with some imperial soldiers and mentioning that I knew of another survivor of Bozja, he offered to teach me in turn.”

“What? And you didn’t tell me after you got back?”

“As you may recall, Alisaie all but hauled your right off to Othard to look for Alphinaud.”

Despite what she’d been told over the years, Minfilia’s head still swam with the names. To think that such a whole, vibrant world existed somewhere - and that they all hailed from it.

“Fair, I suppose,” Viana hummed thoughtfully. “Radovan will be delighted to hear that someone else survived though.”

“I take it Rostik has not managed to track him down yet, then.”

“No, the war has probably made travel harder since you crossed the border.” There was a small pause. “How do you charge the cartridges though? Or can you use magic here?”

“No, I fear my limitations followed me here.” Minfilia startled when she felt Thancred’s hand atop her head. Eyes wide, she looked up to find Viana already giving her a curious look.

“Minfilia prepares my cartridges for me.” 

A smile softened Viana’s features, but it was marred by that familiar trace of sadness that Minfilia knew all too well. Every one of them seemed to give her that look. Like they wanted to be kind to her and yet… yet she was just a painful reminder of someone they’d held dear.

“Oh? Are you able to use magic then?” Viana asked gently.

“N-not particularly,” Minfilia replied softly. The weight of Thancred’s hand disappeared, and she returned her eyes to the stone road once more. “Urianger have tried to teach me some but…”

“We only visit here every few months, if even that,” Thancred continued. “I’ve trained her to use knives instead.”

“Yes, I saw her fight at the fort, before you got there,” Viana replied. “Your style was rather recognisable.”

A sudden pit formed in Minfilia’s stomach. How would she even keep up with everyone else when next they faced combat? Viana seemed just as strong as Thancred, and Minfilia had seen him fell all manner of beasts and sin eaters. And what she had seen so briefly of the twins’ skills, they seemed at least as talented. And Urianger was so learned and wise, and from what they’d told her, their last remaining companion was just as skilled at magic as he…

“Had the war with Garlemald broken out, and the Exarch hadn’t done what he did,” Thancred spoke with a low tone, distracting her from her anxious thoughts. “I figured I would avail myself of Y'shtola or Urianger’s aid to prepare cartridges for me - so you…” For a heartbeat, he hesitated. “So that I could be of some aid at the battlefield proper.”

The flat firmness to his voice reminded her of when he was correcting her on something, telling her how to do it better or correcting her before she made a mistake. Minfilia looked up, trying to remember how much further they had to go before they reached Urianger’s home. It felt like she was intruding, that there was something lingering between them that neither seemed willing to speak of in her presence. It seemed strange. Had not Urianger said they had been good friends before Thancred had arrived in the First? Viana had seemed so happy to see him before, but now she was quiet and withdrawn.

It was Viana who broke the silence, her voice soft, “It worked, you know. Your plan.”

“What?”

“To cause turmoil in Garlemald. Riol carried it out after you were… indisposed.” Minfilia caught the flicker of pain in her voice and cast a quick look their way. They weren’t looking at each other, eyes firmly fixed ahead of them as they kept walking. She was curious about who it was they spoke of, and what plan of Thancred’s that had supposedly been carried out. But she kept her silence, unwilling to intrude on what felt like a personal conversation. Uncertain, she hung back a little, falling a few steps behind Thancred.

“I only know what news Alisaie brought with her and that it did come to war after all,” Thancred responded.

The bitter note to his voice sparked a memory in Minfilia’s mind. One night, when she should have been asleep, she had overheard him and Urianger speaking. It must have been after Alisaie’s arrival, for Thancred had been exasperated and restless, his hushed voice still carrying through the room as he’d spoken about ‘her’ being left alone amidst a war, and that he had all rights to be concerned for her. It had seemed clear that he cared for her and yet... they seemed so distant.

“Well, the short of it is that the ascian possessing Zenos came to the battlefield,” Viana responded with a heavy sigh. “He defeated Hien, Yugiri and Lyse, and…” She paused and turned her head to quickly look at Thancred. “Well, let’s say I did not prevail once I arrived. By sheer luck, Estinien - the dragoon from Ishgard, if you remember? - was in the area and came to my aid.”

There was a tension in Thancred’s shoulders, even evident from where Minfilia was walking. She had no idea what a dragoon was, nor where Ishgard was. Curiosity tugged at her once more, a yearning to learn and understand. Perhaps she could ask Viana later. She did seem nice, after all.

“Did you drive the ascian back together?” Thancred asked, a suddenly hard edge to his voice that always seemed to appear whenever he spoke of those dark being. Anger and hostility, resentment for something Minfilia was not privvy to.

A bitter chuckle rose from Viana’s chest as she waved a hand dismissively. “No, I fear Estinien hauled my unconscious body out of there like a sack of popotoes and deposited me into Aymeric’s arms. I didn’t even get to thank him - I woke up in a room back in Ishgard. By then, the rumours had forced the imperials to withdraw their forces.”

Thancred looked away, seemingly surveying the hillside above the road. “How prudent of Ser Aymeric to see to your health with such care,” he responded evenly.

Viana shrugged. “He’s a good friend, Thancred,” she answered firmly, as if she was trying to convey something to him. “I think he just wished for me to recuperate away from the bustle of a field camp.”

“Well, I’m sure Urianger will wish to hear about it all as well. That’s his house over there.”

Minfilia perked up. She’d been so caught up trying to decipher what precisely was going on that she’d completely missed that Urianger’s house had come into view from around a bend in the road.

“Didn’t go for something understated, did he?” Viana snorted.

“Oh, you just wait,” Thancred drawled.

Yes, she’d have to ask Urianger about them later, when she had the chance to.

[biiscione]

@ofbookshelves​​ suggests  :   a  drabble  about  Vittonio  in  Red’s  point  of  view DRABBLE MEME  /  accepting

           “Are you sure we’re allowed to be here?” No matter how lowly she whispered, it seemed her voice echoed off every surface ( all of which were made of carrara marble ), possibly alerting any prowling guards of their presence. Vittonio seemingly ignores her worry and, while that may frustrate her, she assumes he’s too busy trying to find a way for them to enter the archives without triggering any alarms. Following closely behind, she can spell the determination upon his features when he turns to check, presumably, if she’s still there. Dark, low brows creased together with resoluteness            she smiles as he wrinkles his angular nose, broken so many times its shape has changed. Well, at least, that’s what he’s told her. It’s a bit odd, really, that she’s never seen a picture of him before the broken nose and scarred eyebrow . . . only images of him as a toddler, and even then, she just happened to stumble upon them. Questioning it seemed futile and it seemed the pair was content to live in the togetherness of their now instead of their separate pasts.             Before she knows it, they’re at a crossroads, flanked by mighty statues cloaked in white cotton. They create terrifying shadows from the backlight made by the very modern emergency lights well hidden by the ancient marble walls. She wants to peak under them but dust, above all, deters her from lifting the white shrouds and revealing the hidden marble forms underneath. Mindfully, she steps past Vittonio and into the center of the shelves. She turns back to watch him, squinty - eyed as he, presumably, reads the bronze numbers along the massive shelving. It was all SO MUCH            centuries of western history were stacked on the shelves in this warehouse - type chamber, such a shame that it seemed to collect dust. Red wants to enter one of those bronze - numbered aisles and devour its wealth of knowledge; she attempts to make her way down the rightmost aisle though a calloused hand curtly yet gently grips her arm.           “No. This way.”           She sighs. Oh, rightmost aisle flanked by marble statues, she will have to explore your shelves another day.           They head down the least lit aisle, most ideal for sneaking but not as pleasant and bright as the aisle of white, cotton - covered marble. This one is flanked by newer artifacts, still draped in cotton, with bronze limbs peeking from underneath them.             “They are Baroque           ” Vittonio comments in English with no provocation, back still turned to her.             She smiles            he had been paying attention after all.             “Oh            and the other ones?”             “Baroque             ma, no, del Rinascimento.” Omitting a hum, she is content with the answer that is different from her presumptions. He could be lying to her but it wasn’t like him. As silly and NAIVE as it may sound, their year - long marriage had taught her that while he was dramatic, he never did lie about anything big or small. Embellishments were the closest thing and even then, he made sure she knew the full and true story at the end of it.

          “Rinascimento            Il Rinascimento            ” She repeats to herself, letting the word melt itself into her mind. Her Italian had gotten good, REALLY GOOD, and she was grateful to Vittonio for his tangential ramblings in half-English and half-Italian because that’s how she learned best. She just wished he’d speak it a bit more with her. Maybe he’s afraid of losing his English ( but that seemed unlikely ).           THUD. Her cheek slams into his back and she winces. Ow. Looking up, he’s facing her, dark brows sewn together with worry.       “Are you okay, mogliettina?”       “Yeah,” she manages in a laugh, playfully punching his chest. “Why’d we stop?”       He doesn’t say anything and instead, turns back around. She furrows her brows. Now she was getting worried. Standing on her tiptoes, she tries to peer around his wide shoulders as he fiddles with something. Was it a doorknob? WAS HE PICKING IT? Flanking him, she gets a better view of what he was doing. One would think a prestigious Christian institution            especially one that was the center of Christendom in the West            would have up-to-date security. Red eyes Vitt’s fingers, he wasn’t picking the lock, he had a key. CLICK             and the door creaks open.         Oh? Her hazel eyes lead their gaze up Vitt’s arms to his shoulders, up his neck and to his smiling face, and smile back. Of course he had a key. She continues to watch him as he bends at the waist, extending an arm out to usher her into the dark room.         “After you.”         “Vitt, are you sure?”         He nods and she meekly obliges. Holding her breath, she passes the threshold from bronze dusk into the lowlit darkness. Suddenly, the door behind them closes and they are immersed in pitch black silence. She gasps, hazel eyes frantically searching the darkness. Her anxiety is eased only when she feels Vitt press his chest to her back, their heartbeats synchronizing with three deep breaths. A flicker of a switch and she’s blinded by light.         “God         Vitt.” She curses under her breath, shielding her eyes from the sudden brightness. She feels him peer over her but doesn’t attempt to make eye contact. Instead, she opts for a playful jab to the ribs. Only is she satisfied when he lets out a puff of air, something that could mimic laughter, and finally turns around to face him.       “You know I like history and hearing you talk about history,” she begins gently, “but this seems a bit too daring.”       “And firework-gazing above the Pantheon and cuddling in Roman ruins wasn’t?” Fair . . . fair . . . But breaking into the Vatican museums’ archives seemed to be pressing against the threshold between juvenile trespassing and some serious jail time. Those Swiss guards were kinda scary too.       “No but seriously Vitt . . .”       “Dai, dai, dai . . . I will show you one thing and then we leave.” She concedes tenderly with a shrug and he thanks her with a kiss to the top of the head.       Red steps away as she feels him relinquish his embrace, assuming his position in front of her and leading her down the smaller, more densely packed aisles of this smaller room. She wishes he would tell her what he’s looking for, so they could find it quicker and get the hell out of there. But she’s grateful, noticing Vittonio’s quickened pace in searching for            WHATEVER            he was searching for. Her eyes begin to mindlessly wander the tall shelves. What secrets did these shelves hold? There were so many and yet so little time. She gasps as her husband presses an oddly labeled brown laminate box into her arms.       “Wha          what is it?”       “Let us take it over here,” an outstretched arm indicates a space opposite the aisle they stood, “and you’ll see.”       She does not wait to follow him and makes her way to a pair of elongated tables. Whatever was in the box, it was ridiculously heavy. Setting down the box, she takes the cotton gloves Vitt finds at the center of the table and begins to put them on. She watches her husband, gloved hands lifting the lid to reveal tissue - like cotton. Impatience tickles the soles of her feet          what did Vitt want to show her so badly. He peels back the fabric to reveal a large book, bound in crimson - dyed leather with stamped borders that were painted in gold. Gloved hands lift it and she is almost tempted to assist him, but is resolved to keep her own gloved hands pressed to her stomach.         “Do you like it?”         “It’s beautiful         but what is it?”         “The lineage of my father’s ancestors,” before she questions further, Vitt slowly begins his tale.         “His ancestors from the 18th century sold it to the Church as tithe and here it remains. It details the Talevi Family whose wealth came from spinning, dying, and selling wool in Genoa and how they managed to end up in Sicily,” he delicately flips open the cover and passes portrait after portrait of late 15th Century Talevi patriarchs. She wants to stop him but doesn’t. Time seemed to be of the essence. He pauses on a portrait of a young woman, clad in a gown of muted pink silk, her dark curls piled into two hornets which are strung together with pearls, and a pile of jeweled necklaces rest atop her low cleavage. Red moves her gaze patiently between the chalk-drawn portrait and Vitt, smiling at the realization. They had the same nose and eyes. “Now she . . . . she commanded the Talevi trade for EIGHTY years             ” Red follows his gloved finger as he reads the Latin under her portrait. “From 1536 to 1617. Unfortunately, she had no sons so it all went to her eldest son-in-law . . . BUT I would also like to point out this,” she watches as a gloved finger hovers over the woman’s hand upon her lap.         “She’s wearing lots of rings.” Three to be exact, one on her index, another on her ring, and the last, on her pinky, each all gold encrusted with a variety of jewels. She looks up at Vitt who is squinting to take a closer look at the rings with her.         “What do you think that is             Emerald?” He asks wryly.       “I guess               ?” Red leans further in. Well, it is green. She feels Vitt shift next to her but pays little attention. Busy is she, attempting to decipher the Latin written on the page adjacent to the portrait. She wants to know everything about this ancient woman who looked every bit like her husband. Red shifts to inquire about the inscription in the portrait itself but spots Vittonio standing oddly and bit far away. Her brows furrow.       “Do you think that ring looks like this?”       She takes the offering instinctively as it is handed to her, not questioning the how or why it was in his possession. Oh, it was a pretty gold ring . . . with an emerald. Red takes a double take.       “Wait             stop. It isn’t.” Hazel hues frantically dance between the ring and the portrait.       “It is. Well, the gem is. I had a new band cast because I didn’t think you’d want to wear gold-plated lead.”       She laughs nervously then looks at him quizzically.       “No. Vitt             where’d you get it?” Grave - digging sounds horrible but she didn’t put it past him, and if that was true, well, she’d have to unfortunately decline.       “I bought it from my father. It wasn’t as if he was going to give it to his new bride . . . And since I didn’t have the rights to give you my mother’s ring            I wanted you to have something special.” He’s nervous, she can tell by all his shrugging and the rosy shade kissing the apples of his cheeks.       “May I?”     Speechless, she watches as he removes his gloves and gently takes the ring from her fingers, setting it atop the table. Red overwhelmingly obliges as he pulls her own gloves off tenderly, finger by finger, and sets them aside. Tears well up, heavily weighing down her bottom lids. No matter how much he touted his callousness and crudeness and indifference to the cruelty of the world, she knew he was always so tender-hearted and, dare she say, compassionate below that rough exterior. She laughs back her tears as he smiles, pulling off the wedding ring they had chosen. It had matched his band so, indeed, she was determined to keep it. And she presumes he knows that, watching as he sticks the old ring into his pocket. Now, for the moment of truth. With great diligence and care does Vitt shimmy the emerald ring onto her left ring finger and when he's finished, places a tender kiss to her knuckles.         “Do you like it?”         A fervent shaking of her head before she wraps her arms around him says ‘Yes’. She buries her face into his chest. His arms hold her tightly against him, tears being soaked into his shirt. She could stay there for hours but, unfortunately, time didn’t allow for it.         “Oh god, why do you do this to me . . . What time is it?” Red sniffles, wiping her nose on Vitt’s sleeve as punishment for making her cry. His laugh is a happy reassurance before watching his demeanor change swiftly.         “It’s six in the morning.”         “What does that mean?”         “The head curator will arrive in thirty minutes.”         Red glances around her, in what she thinks is hastily, and back down to where the portrait once was. Oh, Vitt had already packed the book away and made his way to the shelf it rested on. She would have liked to see her one last time. Her melancholy doesn’t last long as she arranges everything as it was before their trespassing and meets Vitt at the entrance to the smaller room. She tugs him as she notices him reaching for the lightswitch. Oh, just one more glance back before they leave.         “Vitt…”         “Yes?”         “I love you.”         “Ti amo tanto.”         CLICK. darkness.

[lettheladylead]

(1/?) Italian Anon again! Uh, about wasted opportunities: thinking about that "Scrooge and Brigitta as Dickie's parents" weirdness, I remembered this AU, "Pico di Bisanzio e il mosaico barbaro", set during the Gothic Wars, when the Eastern Roman Empire and the Ostrogoths fought for Italy after Rome's fall. Scrooge plays Emperor Justinian and, from the duckified mosaics shown in the story, Brigitta is implied to play his wife, Empress Theodora. Now, one of these mosaics shows her with Dickie...

(2/?) ... so I thought Dickie was meant to play either Theodora's daughter (who apparently was born before she married Justinian, so even though he legitimated her after the wedding, she might not have been his... especially because they never had other children. I didn't remember that part!) or one of Theodora's sisters. But looking up the original mosaic, it actually depicts Theodora at court with her attendants, so Dickie was probably just meant to be a handmaiden or lady-in-waiting.

(3/?) Still, the casting choices in the story are very funny to me because... Theodora literally started out as a dancer/singer/actress. Not only that, she was also beautiful, charming, charismatic, cunning to the point of being supposedly Machiavellian, and incredibly headstrong and proud, with guts to spare. And if you got on her bad side, she could be the hardest, coldest bitch! ... can you tell I've loved her since middle school? Lol. And Emperor Justinian reportedly loved her a lot, too.

(4/?) Not only did he not give a damn about Theodora's bad reputation (actresses often were or were assumed to also be sex workers) but he wed her as soon as his father agreed to repeal an old law forbidding men of senatorial rank from marrying actresses. From then on, though they didn't always agree on everything and did have their contrasts, Theodora was Justinian's collaborator, supporter, and even supposed partner in crime when they needed to con their way through delicate political issues.

(5/5) So if you asked me to choose a duck lady to play Theodora alongside Scrooge as Justinian? I'd pick Goldie in a heartbeat! Brigitta can be lovely when used right and she certainly doesn't lack her fair share of cunning and resourcefulness, but Goldie just fits too well in terms of background and skills... and for once, she and Scrooge could get to be the amazing power couple we deserve!

WOWWWWWWWWWWW i have seen the mosaics but i didnt realize the whole story behind them, thats ridiculous that they didnt use Goldie lol LIKE....THATS LITERALLY GOLDIE!!!!

i wish more italian duck authors would incorporate goldie into their work. i cant imagine theres a Goldie Law that says they cant, so it baffles me that they use her so rarely