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paigeswrld · 1 year

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Heart of Ice pt. 2

Azriel x Archeron!reader

Warnings: mentions of depression, angst, longing, I think that’s it??

WC: 2.8k

A/N: you guys are all so sweet, thank you for all the love on the first part<3 that was my first time ever writing anything, and when I started writing it I had no plan, just started typing. The fact that I got so much love blew my mind! There will be a third part to this, I think that will be the final part. I decided to just tag everyone that commented..(I’m new to tumblr so idk if it’ll work) Thank you guys for the support! I know I didn’t reply, but I saw every comment and I can’t begin to express how happy it made me to see that people actually liked it??

I’m always welcome to constructive criticism<33

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After the night that Azriel promised to help you with your powers, you two spent a lot of time together. He tried taking you to the House of Wind to train, but you refused. You couldn’t stand to be around the others, not yet anyway. So, you began training in the woods.

Today was the start of the second week of training. Like yesterday, you spent an entire hour on silly breathing exercises for the mind, claiming that if you learn to control your mind then you can control your powers. Afterwards was spent doing physical training. With your lack of muscle, even the smallest things left your legs shaking and lungs gasping for air. Luckily, your new fae body had you gaining muscle much quicker than when you were human. Once you were entirely exhausted, he had you work on controlling your powers.

You still hadn’t managed to do more than conjure up a few snowflakes, and when you did manage more than that, you had trouble controlling where it went. Right now, Azriel wanted you to focus on making small, controlled patches of ice using water already in a puddle. It’s easier to use what’s already there then create something out of thin air, he had told you.

“Why do we do this last? Shouldn’t I practice when I have my full strength?” You turn to him after unsuccessfully trying to turn the small puddle to ice.

“If you learn to harness your powers while worn out, it’ll be easier at full strength. Besides, if you're tired, then your powers will be weaker, and there will be less risk of something going terribly wrong. Now try again.” He’s leaning against the tree, a casual day of pushing you to exhaustion.

You huff and turn back to the puddle. Deep breaths Y/N. Focus. It’s just a small puddle, you can turn it to ice. You willed your mind to stay calm, to focus simply on the puddle. You dig deep inside of you, invisible hands grasping the ice inside you and pushing it out, towards the puddle. It didn’t work. You hear a crackling, and a grunt from Azriel. You turn to him, only to find his legs frozen in a chunk of ice.

Never had you seen such shock on his face, which quickly turned to annoyance as he said, "Y/N, get me out of this damn ice."

You tried so, so hard to choke back the laugh that rose in your throat, but to no avail. Soon enough, you were doubled over in laughter. The sight of Azriel, the all mighty shadowsinger, stuck in a block of ice was quite possibly the most ridiculous thing you had ever seen.

Azriel, however, looked far from amused. "Y/N, you need to focus. Melt the ice and then you can laugh all you want, but my feet are getting cold." Even though the shadowsinger tried to look angry, you could still hear the hint of amusement in his voice.

“Okay, okay fine.” You took deep breaths, calming your mind, before putting all your focus on turning the ice to water. You weren’t entirely convinced it would work, considering you couldn’t manage the puddle.

“I’d rather not lose my toes to frostbite, so if you could speed this up, that would be great.”

You sent a glare towards the male. “You know, I could just leave you here. Leave you to find your own way out of the ice.”

He smirked at you, his arms crossed, “You and I both know you’re not going to leave me. We’re miles from home and out of range of Rhys’ daemati powers. You have nowhere to go.”

Story of your life.

With a sigh, you focus again on that stupid chunk of ice. Despite being trapped in the ice, Azriel still thought it okay to taunt you, even though he relied on you to get out of his situation. What a fool. You were beginning to regret letting that stupid, arrogant, handsome male train you…

Suddenly, there was a crack of ice and the splash of water, your shoes becoming soaked.

You looked at Azriel, who was now free of the ice, everything below his knees soaked. Despite the cold of his legs, Azriel was grinning at you. Grinning at you like a madman.

“You did it! You did it Y/N!” He rushed toward you and before you could react, he threw his arms around your waist spinning you around while laughing, “I knew you could do it, I just had to get you mad enough!”

Finally, he put you down, that adorable grin still on his face. You looked at him confused, “What do you mean ‘get me mad enough’?”

“Like most people, your powers tend to react more to negative emotions, including anger. I figured if I was able to annoy you enough, you would be able to use those emotions towards changing the ice to water. I was right.” That smug smirk was back on his face.

Rolling your eyes you said to him, “Does this mean I have to make myself angry every time I want to use my powers?”

“No, but in the beginning, it might help.”

You nodded. What Azriel said made sense. Your magic did tend to act up when you were feeling a negative emotion, like anger or fear. But with that numbness still deep in your heart, it was hard to muster up any emotions, even negative ones. Your time with Azriel was the only reprieve you had from that feeling. With him, the ice caging your heart melted just the slightest bit, slowly melting more and more as the days with him went on.

Finally pulling yourself out of you thoughts, you realized Azriel must be freezing. “We should probably go, wouldn’t want you to get that frostbite you were talking about.” And with that you two were off, back to the city of Velaris.

As you lay in your bed that night, it dawned on you, that was the first time you had laughed in months.

***

As the weeks flew by, you began to master your powers. You could conjure up snow storms in small areas, trap people in ice, throw ice daggers, and that was just the surface, according to Azriel. Yet, you still couldn’t shake the freezing cold that followed you wherever you went, no matter how hot the fire or the amount of blankets you piled upon yourself.

While spending time with Azriel helped tremendously for that numbness that had been plaguing you, it wasn’t the cure. There were days, like today, where it was worse and you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of your bed. Azriel had knocked on your door twice now, but you had simply pulled the covers over your head and attempted to block out any and all light.

Darkness. Darkness was what you wanted. Darkness would welcome you with open arms, it would hold you as you fell back into that deep, dark, bottomless pit of numbing depression. You would stay there forever. If you stayed there, you wouldn’t have to face your sisters again. Or the inner circle. Or the feelings for Azriel that were becoming harder and harder to ignore. None of it would bother you, and you would rather lay here and rot than face those things head on.

To your dismay, the Shadowsinger walked in, creating a crack of light in your dark pit. “What are you still doing in bed? We were supposed to start training 20 minutes ago.”

You decided to just ignore him, pulling the cover farther over your head.

You feel a dip on the edge of the bed. “Did you stay up too late last night?”

Finally, you give him a response, “No.” In fact, you had fallen asleep right after you got home, neglecting dinner and a bath.

He sighs, “Then what’s going on? You need to talk to me.”

You try to come up with an excuse, to think of anything that will get him to leave you alone. You almost told him you had your cycle, but if that were true, he’d smell it on you.

“I’m just… not feeling well today. I think we should cancel training for the day.” Your voice came out muffled by the covers.

“Do you need to see a healer? Are you sick?”

An easy out. “Yes, I’m sick. Nothing serious, just need to rest for a day or two. Then I’ll be fine.” You stayed under the covers, not trusting that you’ll be able to keep up the lie if you look into those hazel eyes.

“When Fae get sick, it’s often very serious. We should probably get you to a healer. I’ll have Rhys get Madja.”

“No!” You sit up all of a sudden, pushing back the covers and your eyes wide, “I don’t need a healer. Please don’t call Rhys in here, or anyone for that matter. I just want to be left alone.” You pick at your nails, not having the courage to look him in the eyes.

Ever so gently, he takes your chin into his scarred hand and brings your eyes to his, “Tell me what’s really going on sweetheart. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” Concern laced his features as he looked at you.

You look to the side, struggling to keep eye contact. “I just… I get this feeling sometimes. Where I no longer care about anything. About myself. And I just want to lay in bed forever, in the darkness. It’s like I can’t get myself to feel anything but numb, more so than usual. I don’t want to leave bed, I don’t want to talk to anyone. I used to be afraid of the dark, before the Cauldron, but ever since I was Made it’s the only thing that makes me feel safe, it’s comforting.” You could feel your cheeks turning red at your confession, you’ve never been so vulnerable with someone.

Azriel’s voice is thick with emotion as he says, “And does anything help you to get out of these moods?”

You shake your head.

“Very well.” He stands up and walks out the door, and the feeling of rejection seeps into your bones. You had scared him away. Only a couple minutes later he returns, having changed out of his leathers into a t-shirt and sweatpants. Your eyes follow him as he walks over to your bed and pulls back the covers, placing himself right next to you.

“What are you doing?”

“We will spend two hours here, in this bed, and then we are going to spend the day outside, maybe have a picnic. Is that okay with you?” He settles down into the bed and turns on his side to face you. Unable to find the words, you merely nod your head.

“Good. I know that this is hard, and that being told that it will pass isn’t what you want to hear, but it’s true and it will. Until then, I will be by your side, helping you every step of the way. But Y/N,” you meet his eyes then, and he puts a hand on your cheek, “I can’t fix you, I can only be there to support you. This is something you have to do on your own, nobody else can do it for you. Okay?”

You could almost feel the ice inside your chest melting away. Tears were starting to form in your eyes, and your voice wobbled when you spoke, “Okay.”

A small smile formed on Azriels lips. He pulled you into his arms, and to your surprise, gave you a delicate kiss on the forehead. “Go back to sleep sweetheart, we have a picnic to rest up for.”

As your eyes drift close, Azriels shadows create a veil of complete darkness around you both. It seemed at that moment, something akin to love began to push its way through the ice in your heart, and not once did he mention the chill on your skin, or how his arms seemed to be the only thing that kept it at bay.

***

It had been three months since the day Azriel comforted you in bed. He has continued to do so anytime he found you nestled under the covers, refusing to leave. Some days he would hold you while you told him all of your thoughts, exposing every corner of your wretched mind. Other days you two would stay completely silent, allowing the darkness to be your only source of comfort.

But there was that one day… that one day that Azriel told you everything. He had laid his heart bare for you to see, showing you the darkness that lurked inside. He told you of his childhood, the story behind his hands, the fears and nightmares that still haunt him. The worst one, he had told you, was that voice in his head, his fathers voice, telling him he would never be enough. Telling him nobody would ever love him, for how could somebody love a monster such as Azriel? He wiped away your tears, and you his, as you told him that anyone would be lucky to have him as their own, that they should feel honored. You couldn’t help but see the resemblance… how you both never felt like you were enough. You hugged him tighter after that, and he drifted off to sleep shortly after.

It was that day that the bond snapped for you, as you looked at Az peacefully asleep in your arms. You let out a gasp, not loud enough to wake him. You could feel it then, that golden tether linking you two together for eternity. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the male you’d grown to love being yours for the rest of your existence.

There was one problem, you realized. You still hadn’t forgiven your sisters, and they you, and you weren’t sure you ever could. How could you ever get over such a thing? That feeling of love quickly turned to a feeling of dread as you realized, Azriel would have to choose. These people were his family, and even if you were his mate, that didn’t mean he would pick you. You had decided then that you wouldn’t tell him. You knew that if you did, you would lose your mate forever, and you would rather love him as his friend than not get to love him at all.

***

It had been a week since the bond snapped, and you now stood skipping stones in front of a small pond as Azriel tried to convince you to attend family dinner at the House of Wind. He’s been trying to do so for the past couple weeks, claiming everyone wants to see you.

“I’ve already told you Az, it’s too much. What if something goes wrong with my powers again?” Not turning to face Azriel as you threw a stone at the water, sending it skipping across the pond.

You could almost hear the frown in his voice, “You have full control over your powers now, you can’t keep using that same excuse. They all want to see you, they miss you.”

You turned back to face him as your face scrunched up in anger, “Don’t lie to me Az. They don’t know me well enough to miss me. Those that do don’t care about me, they just want me to show up and act like everything is fine so they don’t have a guilty conscience. I won’t put myself through the pain of having to act like I’m okay just to soothe their selfish worries about their character.” You were almost chest to chest with the Shadowsinger, temper rising as you stared him down.

“If you just gave them a chance, Feyre and Elain both ask about you every time I come home, and even Nesta has asked how you are doing. What they did was wrong, but they’re trying to make things better. Shouldn’t you at least hear them out? If not for them, then for you. Give yourself that closure.” You could see the pleading in his eyes, begging you to do this. For you. For him.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say no, not as he looked at you with those big, beautiful eyes. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes before looking back up to him, “Okay. One dinner, and you have to promise that if I want to leave at any point— even if we just stepped foot through the door— you will get me out of there. Deal?”

He put his hands on your waist, pulling you even closer, “It’s a deal.” As you looked at him, triumph written all over his face, you began to wonder if maybe, for a chance at being with him, you could look past all that your sisters had done.

And so it was settled, two days from now you would be attending the Inner Circle’s family dinner.

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#azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #azriel x you #acotar fanfiction #acotar

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morgana-larkin · 22 days

Note

Hey I was wondering if u could do a Melissa x reader were reader struggles with SH and Melissa finds out some how and comforts reader and helps her to not SH or something like that (also I completely understand if u don’t wanna write this and really sorry if it’s triggering to u sorry and thank u)

Hi, thank you for the prompt! I will admit that this one got me a bit. It wasn’t that triggering for me but it was still hard to write. I hope that SH meant self harm or this fic took a very different turn than what you wanted. I went with the reader is autistic because I’m able to relate to that and made it easier to write the feelings and emotions. So here it is and I hope you like it. And of course not edited in the slightest. And I am still taking prompts, I’m currently writing another one for a prompt I got.

Little Droplets of Relief

‼️ TRIGGER WARNING ‼️

This fic heavily describes and talks about self harm and cutting. If you think you’ll get triggered then please don’t read it.

Words: 4.38k

Lazy, useless, unlovable.

3 words that you were used to hearing, mostly from yourself.

Growing up with Autism that went undiagnosed until you were 16 was difficult. There were times when you felt too tired to do anything or you forgot to do basic needs, like eating or brushing your teeth. Lazy.

There were other times when all you wanted to do was drown out society because everything was too much or when you didn’t pick up the most obvious social cues. Useless.

You’ve turned down many invitations from friends because you just felt like laying in your bed and live in the world conjured up by your thoughts. You've been clingy with some people because they don’t leave you and they’re someone you know but that led people to leave you. Everyone left you at some point. Everyone. Unlovable.

Those 3 words, a mantra in your head. Often led you to sit on your bed, rocking yourself back and forth and sometimes tug at your hair.

Until one day, those words in your head distracted you when you went to reach for a fork and ended up picking up a steak knife, from the sharp end. As soon as you picked it up, you dropped it and saw you were bleeding, and the voices stopped for a whole day. So when they returned the next day, you did your usual rocking on the bed and tugged at your own hair so hard you pulled some strands right out. Then you thought of what happened yesterday, you looked at your bandaged hand that your mom did when you told her you accidentally cut yourself. You bled and the voices stopped. So you grabbed a knife from the kitchen when you’re parents weren’t looking and you gave yourself a small cut on the wrist and you watched it bleed. You watched little droplets of blood fall from you and with the blood, the voices left.

It started off small, you would only give yourself a cut when everything else you tried didn’t work, but soon what turned into about once a week, turned into every other day then turned into everyday. Everyday before bed, you would do a small cut on your wrist and watch the blood fall, you called it your little droplets of relief. You always did small so you can easily cover it up with something, when it was hot out, like a scrunchie or thick bracelet.

You were 15 at the time when you started cutting yourself. Then at 17 you got diagnosed with Asperger’s which you were told was a form of Autism. You knew nothing about it. You were explained what it is, it’s mostly known as a social disorder but it’s other things too. For instance you can get tired from socialising, get overwhelmed and block the world out , have obsessions, and in some cases suffer on and off with depression. When you got told this, a lot of things made sense. And while you now had a name to it, you cutting yourself didn’t stop, it became an obsession, a dangerous obsession.

Now you are 27. You’ve been working at Abbott Elementary for a year now as a first grade teacher and you love it there. The kids are crazy, the staff even more, the principal was a whole different level though. You felt like you fit in here, you never felt like you fit in anywhere, always an outcast. You became friends with some of the teachers. The first one you became friends with was Jacob, he was nerdy like you, you had a lot of similar interests. The second one was Gregory, you don’t know why, but you felt like he was like you, he never said anything but a lot of things he does, you do. The third was Janine, although you still are wary of her, a little ball of energy like that can sometimes be too much for you. The next one was Barb, she was sweet to you since you started, always giving great advice if you need it and always lending an ear. Ava you’re still unsure of, her personality was big and her ego even bigger, but she cared about the students and she took some getting used to until you saw a person instead of well… Ava you guess. Then there was Melissa. She was wary of you at first, being new, but you saw she had a heart behind all those leather pants and insults. It took both of you awhile to warm up to each other.

While everyone was nice to you and you considered them friends, you never got close to them. You didn’t want to, because as soon as you did, then poof they’re gone. So you kept them all at a distance, you barely talked about yourself, you didn’t ask them questions about themselves either. You sometimes got up and left if the conversation got personal, mumbling out an excuse of some sort. The only one who really noticed that you did that was Melissa.

You’re not sure why but she seemed to take an interest in you. She kept trying to get to know you but always failed. Until one day she was talking with you in your classroom, you went to reach something and your sleeve rolled up, exposing your cuts right at her. You went a little crazier last night but it was chillier today so you thought it would be fine and just had to wear a long sleeve.

“What are those?” She said

“They’re nothing.” You said defensively. Pulling your sleeve back down

“They didn’t look like nothing.”

“Like I said , it’s nothing so just drop it ok.” You told her.

“Give me your wrist then.”

“What?”

“If you say it’s nothing then you’ll have no problem letting me see your wrist. So come on, let me see your wrist.” She said and you froze. I mean she did have a point, you aren’t showing her because they are something.

“This really isn’t any of your business or concern Melissa, I mean I barely even know you.” You told her, trying to deflect and get out of the conversation revolving your wrist.

“Because you won’t let yourself know me, and you won’t let other people know you.”

“People aren’t worth my time , not if all they do is leave. Like I seriously don’t know why other people try to make friends, people don’t stick around.” You said to her and this confused her. You confuse her. First you have mysterious cuts on your wrist, then you say that people aren’t worth your time. Then she thought about it.

“How many people left you?”

“What?”

“I said , how many people in your life has left you?”

“Too many to count.”

Melissa did end up dropping the cuts on your wrists, but she still worried about you because she has a pretty good idea of why they’re there. It wasn’t until one day, 2 weeks after she saw your cuts, that you came in tired, more tired than just the usual tiredness in the morning.

“You ok y/n?” Melissa asked as you walked into the break room.

“Ya I’m fine. Just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.” You told her, and it was a half lie. You did get about 5 hours of sleep but that was only because you had to clean up some blood as you cut a bit too deep by accident. On top of that, you’ve been forgetting to eat, you didn’t eat at all yesterday and you forgot a lunch today, and slept in this morning by accident so you also didn’t have breakfast.

Melissa watched you walk to the coffee machine and poured yourself a cup. You look pale as a ghost but Melissa isn’t going to ask, the last time she asked about you, you shut her down.

It wasn’t until lunchtime that she got worried. She watched you stumble your kids to the cafeteria, and since she was paying attention to you, she saw you lose your balance a couple times and that you kept grabbing your head. When you came back to your classroom to grade some tests, Melissa was sitting in your chair.

“Melissa, what are you doing here?” You asked her.

“I think you know. You look pale. Did you eat recently?” She asked and you just looked at her. The thing is you need to sit down as you’re really lightheaded.

“Can I have my chair back?” You asked her and she got up. But you took 2 steps and you got dizzy and fainted. The last thing you saw through blurry vision is red hair hovering over you in frantic movements.

You woke up and looked around and realised that you’re in the nurse’s office.

“Oh look who’s finally awake.” A voice said and you looked to your left and saw Melissa sitting on a chair looking at you. She has one leg over the over and her hands on the arm rest of the chair. “I got Mr Johnson and Ava to cover our classes while we talk.”

“Talk about what? And where’s the nurse?” You asked her when you realised she wasn’t here.

“Like I said, we need to talk, in private.” Is all she said. And the look on her face shows she’s in no mood for anything and not going to let you shut her down.

You sighed. “Look Melissa, I’m fine, just forgot to eat and pack a lunch. But I’m fine now.” You went to get up but Melissa got to you and pushed you back to the bed.

She then walked back to the chair and bent down to get something out of her purse. “Here, after I brought you here I got some food from down the street.” She said and handed you a store bought sandwich. You didn’t take it though, you just looked at her confused. “It’s not poisonous if that’s what you’re worried about.” She said.

“It’s not what I’m worried about.” You said.

“Just take it and eat it. I don’t want you fainting again.” She said and shoved it into your hand. You finally took it and started eating it. “Now I’m going to ask you some questions and I want you to be truthful with me. And before you start getting defensive or try to shut me down, I saw your wrists and you fainted right in front of me.” She said, and if you weren’t already pale then you would have been now.

“You what?” Is all you said and froze about to take a bite of the sandwich.

“I saw them. Do you want to tell me why there’s cuts on your wrists?” She asked and you shook your head and she sighed. “Ok I know why but since you won’t tell me then let me ask you this. Why haven’t you been eating, I think you’ve gone a lot longer than just today of not eating, with how pale you were this morning.” She was really pushing it and you didn’t know what to do, she pieced a lot of things together and has you cornered.

“Can we not do this right now?” You told her, you knew that she won’t let this go and this was going to be a heavy conversation, and you didn’t want to do it at school.

“If not now then when y/n? When things get worse? Because I hate to break it to you, it got worse already.” She said and the tone of voice she was using, almost sounded like fear. Although you don’t know why.

“It can be today but just not here.” You said and looked at your lap. Melissa sighed and you looked back up at her.

“Ok, how about I drive you to my place after school and make you dinner and then you can tell me then?” She proposed and you looked at her confused, you don’t know why she’s doing this for you. “I don’t want you driving if you’ve barely ate. So either way I’m going to drive you. And before you think about it, I already took your car keys.” She said, you looked at her and she began spinning your keys on her finger proudly.

“Alright, but you don’t have to make me anything, I’ll just eat when I get back home.” You told her.

“I always make enough for 12 hun, you’ll eat at my house.” She tells you, leaving no room for argument and you nod. After you ate the sandwich you felt a bit better. You and Melissa went back to your classes and you just had your students read or draw for the rest of the day.

At the end of the day, Melissa came to your classroom to drive you to her place. “Ready to go?” She asked and you nodded, grabbing your bag. You followed her out to the parking lot and to her car. You noticed she kept looking back at you, probably to make sure you aren’t going to faint again.

She drove you to her place and got you to sit on her couch, you did as instructed and just sat there, twiddling your thumbs nervously. And at some point you dozed off because she was shaking you gently and telling you the food was ready. You both ate on the couch, she wasn’t worried about spills as the couch is covered in plastic. After you finished, pretty much inhaled your food, she put your plate on the coffee table then looked at you.

“When was the last time you ate?” She asked first.

“Dinner, the day before yesterday.” You said plainly and she looked at you worried. Well might as well come out and say it. “I’m autistic, and sometimes I forget to do basic things, like eat. It’s not the first time I’ve forgotten to eat, although it’s the first time I’ve fainted. I usually only forget one meal, not a whole day.” You said and she put her arm on the top of the couch, looking at you.

“And what about the cuts on your wrists? Why did you do those?” She asked the burning question.

“To make my brain shut up.” You said and looked down at your hands on your lap.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean the things my brain says on repeat, until I give myself a cut. It won’t shut up until I do, I’ve tried everything else before. This is the only thing that works.” You told her and she looks at you softly.

“Hun, there are so many ways to do that, and harming yourself shouldn’t be one.” She said and put a hand on your knee and began gently rubbing your knee. “What does your brain tell you on repeat?” She asks and a tear rolls down your cheek.

“3 words, lazy, useless, unlovable.” You said as another tear rolled down your cheek.

“Hun, you aren’t any of those things. When did this start? The words in your head and the cutting?”

“When I was 15. I couldn’t keep handling it. It got to the point where I was ripping my hair out. And then one day the voice in my head was telling me those words when I went to reach for a fork, got distracted and picked up a knife, from the pointy end. And as I watched the blood trickle out and down my arm, the voice went away for a whole day. And then the next day when they came back, I experimented and gave myself a small cut, and it worked. I only started doing it once a week, then that slowly turned into multiple times a week and then everyday, I like to call it little droplets of relief. I only ever gave myself small ones so I can cover them up with something, especially in the summer. But last night I cut too deep by accident.” You told her and she looked at you sympathetically. “I got diagnosed when I was 17, but by then it was too late.”

“And why don’t you ever let people in? You keep them at a distance.”

“People they leave, at one point or another. People always leave when I get close and it hurts. So to not get hurt, I don’t get close. It’s easier and less painful that way.”

“Hun, you shouldn’t be dealing with this by yourself. Everyone needs someone.” She tells you.

“I don’t need anyone, I’ve been fine by myself. It’s better that way for everyone anyway.”

“What do you mean it’s better for everyone?”

“I mean that I stay away and don’t need people, and they don’t have to deal with me.” You told her.

“Do you really think you’re so unlovable that someone wouldn’t want to be there for you?” She asks and you look at her with tear stained cheeks and nod. “Well from what I know about you, you’re a pretty great person who tries to take on too much by herself and doesn’t give herself a break.” She tells you and you lift your legs and pull them close to your body and hug them. Melissa thinks you look so small and vulnerable, it broke her heart that someone can think those things about themselves when they’re a good person. “I think you’re good enough.” She simply tells you and you look at her surprised.

“Why would you say that when it isn’t true?” And your voice is almost a whisper and you’re about to cry.

“Because it is true, you are good enough and you shouldn’t think otherwise.” She tells you and you start crying. “Can I hug you?” She asks you and you look at her and sniff, then nod your head as more tears roll down your cheeks. She brings you closer to her and you put your legs down and off the couch. Melissa wraps her arms around you and starts rubbing your back soothingly. You don’t know what to think at first about her hugging you, it’s been so long since someone has touched you, not even a hug for over 5 years. And you realise that you miss it, you miss physical contact with people. And you wrap your arms around Melissa’s waist and hold on tight as you continue to cry. You fall asleep in her arms and she doesn’t have the heart to move you, so she leans down on the couch and reaches for the blanket that’s on the top and puts a pillow under her. She drapes the blanket over you both and she falls asleep.

After that day, Melissa has taken it upon herself to help you, help you cope in healthier ways. Both of you try different ways and at first nothing seems to work, then after a few more tries. You found something, and you don’t know how you didn’t think of it before. The one thing you found that helped, was the one thing you never had before, someone there to rub your back or hug you or just there to listen to you. You started getting better and you kept finding more ways to help, like fidget spinners, earplugs, a rubber ball to squeeze if you need to squeeze something due to intense emotions.

And with Melissa helping you, you began to open up to her and you let her open up to you. And after some time feelings appeared, and you freaked out. You didn’t know how to deal with it, you’ve had small crushes before but the last time was in high school before you cut people out. And at this point you relapse after 3 months straight of not giving yourself a cut. The voices in your head only said one thing, one word now instead of 3, unlovable. You take a knife and drag it across your wrist, of course Melissa wouldn’t want you, she’s only helping you to be nice, nothing more. You did another cut and watched the blood flow down your arm. The voice didn’t stop and it got louder. You went to your other wrist and did the same thing, 2 cuts, but it still wasn’t working. You did it again, only this time, you made a mistake, you cut too deep and you were losing blood. You got lightheaded quickly and passed out.

And that was how Melissa found you a minute later as she came to your house every day to watch shows together or to chat. She opened your door with the key you gave her and she found you passed out on the ground, blood dripping from your wrist.

“Y/N! No no no!” She ran to you and tried to shake you awake and you wouldn’t, she checked your pulse and thankfully you were still alive but weak. She ran to your bathroom and grabbed towels and applied them to the cut and put pressure to try and stop the bleeding. And thankfully it did. As soon as it stopped, she went to get bandages and wet paper towels. She cleaned your arm up and then wrapped your arm with the bandage. She then picked you up and carried you to your bed and laid you down, then she sat on the other side of the bed and stayed with you until you woke up.

You woke up a couple hours later. You opened your eyes and blinked a couple times, you looked to your side and you see Melissa there. She hasn’t noticed you awake yet. She’s hugging herself and looks deep in thought. You call her name.

“Melissa?” You croak out and she snaps out of her head and looks at you. She looks happy to see you awake and then she gets angry.

“What the hell were you thinking!? I thought you were passed this?!? And then I find you on the ground with blood coming out of your arm!!” She yelled at you and you looked at her with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, it just happened.” You tell her.

“I thought you were dead y/n! Do you understand that? And you could have if I didn’t show up when I did.” She tells you and you look at your arm, it’s now bandaged up. “I was able to stop the bleeding and patch you up. I almost called an ambulance.” She tells you and you snap your head to her. Too think that you were so close to death and you have her to thank. “Why did you do it? Why didn’t you try something else? We’ve been able to find different ways, healthier ways, not dangerous ways.”

“I tried but none of them worked and I only meant to give myself a little one, but the voice didn’t stop repeating that one word and it got louder and louder.” You tell her.

“What word?” She asks you.

“Unlovable.”

“Y/n, I’ve told you many times that it’s not true, many people will grow to love you if you let them.” She tells you genuinely.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” She asks confused.

“You wouldn’t love me. I mean you’re only helping me to be nice. No other reason.” You tell her and you look at your hands.

“Y/n, I’m helping you because believe or not, I care about you. I’m your friend.” She tells you and you can’t help it, as soon as she says friend, it spills out.

“Ya, and that’s all you’ll ever be.” You snap a bit.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asks, she has no idea where any of this is coming from.

“Forget it, forget I said anything.” You tell her trying to backtrack, you’re not going to tell her how you feel. You don’t want to ruin this friendship with her over something stupid as your feelings for her. But Melissa pushes you, she’s not going to back down, not after finding you like she did.

“No, you’re not going to do this again. Tell me what you mean. Please.” She tells you. She almost begs you at the end.

“It means that you’ll never be more than a friend.” You tell her like it’s obvious.

“What else would I be?” She asks, still confused. And then you look at her and she looks into your eyes, and she sees the hurt and fear. And then she figures it out. “Y/n, do you have feelings for me?” She asks gently and you close your eyes and nod. You don’t want to see her reaction when she rejects you and then leaves. But she doesn’t do either. To your surprise she cups your cheek. You open your eyes and look at her in shock. “I’m not going anywhere. And if I’m being honest, I have feelings for you too.”

“I thought you were straight?!?” You tell her and she giggles.

No, I’m bisexual, I’ve dated girls here and there but nothing ever stuck.” She tells you and moves the hand that’s on your cheek to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and you lean in. Your lips land on hers and she kisses you back. You think that this is where you’re meant to be, with her, with Melissa. She’s your shining light. “Is that what happened? Did you realise you have feelings for me and the voice in your head happened?” She asked suddenly and you nod. “Oh Bella, I wish you would have told me what was going on.” She tells you and your heart does a flip at the nickname.

“I will next time, before I do anything.” You tell her

“You promise?” She asks and you nod. She sticks her pinky out and you lock yours with hers in a pinky swear. “You can never break a pinky swear.” She tells you and you laugh.

“I pinky swear to come to you before I do anything stupid.” You tell her and that satisfies her. And she puts an arm around you and brings you to her and you cuddle on her chest, listening to her heartbeat. And this you think, are your new droplets of relief.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta ,@imaginesmultifandoms

If you wish to be added to the taglist then let me know :)

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #x reader #fanfic

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64yrsold · 9 months

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ACHES 3. bitten

18+ (please see masterlist for cw) aches masterlist previous (2)

I did have his number, my phone opening to the contact page of “Matthew (HOT)” when I unlocked it. I cringed, realizing he probably watched me type that in there.

I had one unread message from Jenna, letting me know that Matty had forgotten his credit card at the bar. I texted her to let her know that I would pick it up this afternoon, and sighed. This was incredibly embarrassing. From his bitten and scratched chest, I could assume what we had been up to last night.

I grumbled, hopping into my jeans and putting on my coat. I brushed through my hair with my fingers, swinging my purse over my shoulder and exiting the hotel room. I walked to the elevator, humming to myself as I opened my phone to find the nearest coffee shop.

“What the fuck?” I muttered, realizing the hotel I was in was nearly a two-hour walk from the bar I had met Matty. Did we walk here? God, I hope he didn’t drive me here.

‘I want to show you another bar,’ he had said last night. A flash of a memory, a silver flask and an orange streetlamp. A dark park, spruce trees towering towards the white circle of the moon.

I sighed, the elevator doors opening into the lobby. I called a cab.

I realized I was nauseous when I inhaled the driver’s eye-watering cologne, and popped a mint to distract myself. I watched the lazy city roll past, everything brown and tired. I looked back at my shoes, swallowing hard as the driver attempted to hit every pothole he saw. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to conjure some sort of memory from yesterday. I could only see that orange streetlamp, burning blue in the center of my vision when I closed my eyes.

‘Cold?’ his voice echoed, and the corner of his jaw came to me. A shuffling sound, his jacket slipping off his shoulders. Warmth, heaviness.

I chewed my bottom lip, hoping he was sweet.

“Hi Jenna,” I smiled, and she gave me a nod.

“How was he?” she raised an eyebrow, turning his credit card in her hands. I grabbed it from between her fingers, frowning.

“What do you mean?” I shoved the card in my purse, sitting on a sticky barstool.

“So this is the one you shut up about,” she rolled her eyes, grabbing a few lemons.

“You hate it when I tell you about my boyfriends.”

“Boyfriends?” she snorted, cutting a lemon into perfect wedges. The citrus smell stung in the back of my throat.

“Alright,” I grumbled, really meaning shut up, “He was nice.”

“Mm,” she hummed, eyes down.

“That’s it.”

She set her knife down, holding her hands in front of her chest. She slowly drew them away from each other, waiting for me to tell her to stop. To say how big.

I just squinted at her.

“Did I start too big?” she dropped her hands, now looking at me with her all-seeing eyes. She rarely made eye contact, but when she did, I suspected she could see into every corner of my mind. If you can hear this, blink twice, I would often think.

“Sorry,” I shrugged, dropping my chin into my palm. I looked at the lemon she stroked with her thumb.

“You can’t remember,” she gasped, a smile creeping onto her face.

I mustered the energy to look surprised, but ended up sighing.

“Oh God, did he drug you?” she blinked, then shook her head, “No, honestly, you were wasted before you had that whiskey.”

“If I was wasted,” I whispered, “Why did you serve me?”

“I like to let you experience the consequences of your actions,” Jenna smirked, passing me a bundle of limes, a knife, and a cutting board, “Can you be useful here?”

“Yes boss,” I sliced a lime in half, “And I don’t think he drugged me.”

“Good,” she wiggled her knife in front of my face, “This has cut more than citrus fruit, you know.”

“He was sweet, I think,” I thought back to his rough hands tucking me in, to him carrying me into bed. “Fuck, I wish I could remember.”

“You guys were heading to another bar, weren’t you?”

“I thought so too,” I nodded, “But I keep seeing this park, and I can’t remember a second bar.”

“A park?” Jenna frowned, concerned, “Where did you wake up?”

“A hotel,” I said, shaking my head.

“Not your place?” Jenna didn’t seem surprised, going back to slicing lemons. “You live five minutes from here.”

I just shrugged, sighing. “I guess I’ll have to ask him what happened.”

“What if he can’t remember either?”

“What if he remembers everything?”

We both stared at our hands, stumped.

“You kiss him?” Jenna broke the silence, grabbing my pile of sliced limes.

“I woke up in a hotel with him,” I stated, then bit my cheek, “But we did wake up in a chair.”

“Both of you?”

“Yeah, I was on his lap. It was actually sort of comfortable.”

Jenna just grunted, wiping her hands on a towel.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” I stood, one hand on the bar, “We’re going on a date tonight.”

“Really?” Jenna gave me her icy stare again.

“He planned it. I just said okay.”

“Well,” Jenna put a hand on her hip, “He’s rich.”

“You think?”

She nodded, “Maybe hold on to that credit card.”

-> next (4)

#matty healy #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty the 1975 #matty x reader #matty healy x reader #64matty #aches

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cieloclercs · 1 year

Text

sliding doors , chapter three

pairing: joão félix x fem!oc part: 3/? warnings: mentions of sex, otherwise just lots of fluff word count: 8.5k

author’s note: hiiiii i’m so sorry this took so long! i hope the fluff makes up for it hehehe. also, i’m thinking of making a taglist for this story and maybe for punk tactics, so if you’d like to be on it just send me an ask!

SLIDING DOORS, “Seemingly inconsequential moments that nonetheless alter the trajectory of future events.”

03. in which joão takes esperanza out on their first date

previously: chapter two

read it on wattpad!

JOÃO COULDN'T REMEMBER the last time he'd been on a date. Not since her. He all but gave up on the idea of dating after that messy breakup, too torn apart by the way it had ended and how blind he had been to her infidelity to even consider trying again. His friends had tried to set him up with a couple of their significant others' acquaintances for a while, or encouraged him to try online dating, but it didn't take long until they too threw in the towel. Yet, within weeks of arriving alone in London, João had taken a step that not even his family had managed to get him to do, not in the years since his last relationship ended – he'd asked his pretty neighbour out for dinner.

João knew he liked her. He wasn't a teenager; he knew how to interpret the butterflies in his stomach when she smiled at him, and he knew exactly what they meant. Esperanza Cabrera had somehow managed to open up the part of himself he'd long since locked away, with only one serendipitous crossing of paths, an impromptu coffee date, and yesterday afternoon, when he'd decided to stop being a coward and just ask her out already. Three meetings. That was all it had taken. João felt the speed of it should have scared him, but he couldn't find it within his heart to fear anything involving Esperanza. She'd made too much of a mark on him already.

Mentally hyping himself up for their date would have been much easier if he had told any of his friends what was going on – (that's right, he hadn't). Not even his parents knew. João suspected his teammates may have caught on to his affections, or whatever they could be labelled as, for someone, at least, but apart from a brief mention of her name and how they had met, he'd given nothing away. As far as they were concerned, he was getting an early night; not drinking red wine in a fancy restaurant with the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

João grew more and more conscious of the time as he tried on his fourth shirt. He and Esperanza had agreed, over text message, that he would meet her outside her apartment at seven thirty exactly. His watch read ten past seven. He let out a frustrated sigh, throwing his hands down at his sides. Nothing looked right on him. In the past, he would have just thrown on the first shirt he saw, but João wanted to make a good impression. He wanted to at least try to look a match for Esperanza, in whatever she was wearing. His mind could have conjured up a thousand images of the woman that would greet him at her door in twenty minutes, dressed to the nines, but he knew none of them would compare to the real thing. João had caught her in fluffy pyjamas last time and had barely been able to string a sentence together – what would he be like when she was all made up?

Eventually, he settled on his first choice of shirt: a tight fitting black button-up, with the collar left open, showing a sliver of his tanned skin. A thin gold chain hung around his neck, contrasting the obsidian silk. Paired with his also black pants, João feared that it was perhaps a little too much black – but he didn't have time to fret over that. Besides, he'd received some glowing reviews of this particular shirt in his Instagram comments. He'd just have to trust the general public on this one, considering his usual second opinion was none the wiser to this date even happening. Now, João slightly regretted keeping so quiet about it.

He was sweating bullets.

"I can't do it – oh Dios mio." Esperanza Cabrera muttered weakly as she stood in front of her bathroom mirror. Her hair was curled into soft waves, falling around her shoulders, and she'd decided to be a little bit bolder with her makeup than usual: a hint of smoky eyeshadow, and a strong red lip that had taken her almost an hour to get right because of how much her hand was shaking. She thought she looked pretty – but when Esperanza looked in the mirror, she began to doubt if her definition of pretty was pretty enough.

"Well you can't back out now." Millie Vallejos reminded her through the tinny speakers of her laptop, "He'll be here any minute!"

The young woman groaned, "Don't remind me."

Esperanza had actually been looking forward to this all day. It had even gotten to the point where she would count down the hours, lying on her back on the sofa, just imagining what a wonderful time she and João were going to have. Now that he was only ten minutes away from arriving, she felt like she was going to throw up.

Millie had done her best, over their three hour face time call, to keep her calm; but she could feel that control beginning to slip away the closer the minute hand on the clock drew to seven thirty. It had seemed as though, at one point, that the getting-ready process would go off without a hitch. Esperanza had decided on her outfit relatively quickly – a long sleeved black mini dress, with a cut out at the top of her chest, exposing the tiniest amount of cleavage, alongside translucent tights and a pair of black heeled ankle boots. She'd wondered aloud if it was a bit too much black, but, as Millie so eloquently put it: 'Black is sexy, and João won't know what to do with himself when he sees you in that. Trust me.' Esperanza had been more than happy to stick to her outfit after those words.

She'd felt confident. At least, for a little while. Then the minute hand began to move faster, creeping its way around to seven, and then to ten past, and now, to twenty past. Her confidence evaporated. All those doubts and fears Esperanza thought had been banished when João turned up at her door yesterday suddenly returned with full force. She began to see her figure in the mirror in a completely different light. It was just last-minute jitters, she knew that, but it hit her so hard, it took Millie yelling at her through the laptop screen to stop her from cancelling on João. Her finger had hovered over the 'send' button more than a couple of times. Yet, just as Esperanza felt sick to the stomach with nerves, she couldn't bring herself to do it. She wanted this. It shocked her just how much. She may not have even realised the intense longing she felt for a connection like that with someone – whether it was João or not – if she hadn't been seconds away from giving it up. Maybe that was the one thing Esperanza had so far missed out on during her time in London. She only had a few months left. Now was as good a time as any to change that.

"I know you're nervous, but I promise it's going to be fun!" Millie reassured her, smiling empathetically. Esperanza nodded in agreement. She was more trying to convince herself than anything. She should have known that her years spent living the hermit life when it came to dating would come back to bite her one day. Esperanza hadn't a clue what was supposed to happen on a first date — she'd only ever been on one, way back when she was fifteen, and her memory of it wasn't all that great besides. The only thing she had to go off was Millie's crash course of do's and don'ts: don't dump your entire life story on him straight away, and don't under any circumstances sleep with him (Esperanza had laughed at that — as if she was at risk of making such a mistake); on the other hand, do open up to him a little bit. But not too much. Millie said it was good to leave an air of mystery behind after a first date, 'to keep him guessing' she explained. Esperanza didn't question it.

"I just don't want to make a fool of myself." she admitted with a sigh, "You know how I get when I'm nervous — it's like I can't stop talking —"

"Cariña, we've been over this." Millie interrupted quickly, "Just don't overthink it. He's only a guy, remember? Talk to him like you'd talk to anyone else. You know, considering he's famous and all, he'd probably appreciate that."

Esperanza nodded. She just had to remind herself that she'd managed to hold a conversation with him without panicking before; just because it was an actual date this time didn't mean she couldn't do it again. Plus, Millie was probably right about João appreciating a bit of normalcy. Esperanza knew for one that she'd get tired of people ogling her like she was some sort of freak of nature pretty quickly, if she was famous. João had even said it to her in the café three days ago — he was just a normal guy.

"Ok. I think I'm ready." Esperanza announced, inhaling deeply to calm the rapid pounding of her heart. She glanced at her phone on the bathroom counter. It read seven twenty-five.

"Have fun, mi amor!" Millie cheered, "But not too much — remember what I told you, no sex on the first —"

"Jesus, Millie, I know." Esperanza's cheeks flushed red in embarrassment.

"Good. Just double checking." her best friend grinned wolfishly in reply, "You better tell me all about it when you get back."

She rolled her eyes, smiling fondly, "Who do you think I am? Of course I will."

Millie's grin transformed into a proud smirk. As Esperanza's primary confidant, it gave her a massive ego boost to know that her best friend told her absolutely everything, and vice versa — (even the things they technically weren't supposed to share). Millie knew fine well she'd be treated to a detailed retelling of the date from start to finish as soon as Esperanza got back to her apartment. She was thoroughly looking forward to it.

After hanging up on their face time call, which by the end read three hours, Esperanza made her way out of the bathroom and towards the front of her apartment. She wobbled ever-so-slightly as she reached down to pick up her handbag. Then, upon drawing back up again to her full height, the doorbell rang.

Seven twenty-eight. He was early.

João straightened his collar and smoothed down his shirt for the last time. He was filled with nervous energy — half because he was absolutely petrified of messing this up, and half because he just couldn't wait to see her. The door to Esperanza's apartment remained unanswered for a few moments, making the back of his neck grow clammy with sweat. Great. She was probably just grabbing her bag or something from another room, not bailing on him; but João couldn't shake the feeling that she wouldn't answer the door at all. Perhaps he should have texted her first.

While the short few second's wait seemed to drag on for hours, Esperanza's front door swung open so quickly he almost missed it. In the blink of an eye she was there, smiling shyly up at him, her almost whispered hello lost to the muffled sound of the world fading into insignificance all around him. João was rendered perfectly speechless.

He'd been completely right. His imagination couldn't do Esperanza's beauty justice as she stood before him now: a tight black minidress hugging her frame, and her lips painted, almost as if she had known, the exact shade of crimson that made his knees feel weak. João's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. He clamped his jaw shut as Esperanza too seemed to have the thought to speak, but lacked the conviction in the end when her lips pressed into a thin line, cheeks flushing a faint shade of pink.

"Hi..." João murmured dumbly, "Wow...you look beautiful."

"Thank you." she smiled at the ground, bashful, "So do you. Uh — handsome, I mean. You look handsome." Esperanza winced almost imperceptibly as she stumbled over her words, afraid to look up and meet João's eye properly, though she could feel him watching her. A small smirk crept onto his face. He waited for her head to raise timidly and for her round eyes to search his face before he arched a brow, silently asking her if she was ready to go. Esperanza's apartment door clicked shut not a moment later.

João had explained to her over text the previous day that he'd sorted out their reservations for the night, so she didn't have to worry. All Esperanza knew was that it was some high-range Italian restaurant close to the city centre. Most likely, in normal circumstances, she wouldn't so much have been able to afford a glass of wine at this place; but João insisted it was no trouble. He wouldn't even entertain the idea of her paying him back for the meal.

"It's the least I can do." he said as he drove towards the city centre, eyes focussed on the road. Esperanza wanted to ask him exactly what he meant by that. In the end, when he didn't look back, she chickened out.

The restaurant was almost intimidatingly beautiful. Yet, it had a warm feeling to it. Rich, wine red carpets were soft beneath her heels, and the dark oak walls were framed with brushed gold. People of all different manners and professions milled around: socialites, businessmen, and even some low-level celebrities, dressed like they'd just walked out of some vintage film from the Golden Age of Hollywood. Esperanza rubbed her arms self-consciously. Surrounded by all this wealth, she couldn't help but feel a little inadequate.

"Are you ok?" João asked softly. She looked up, offering him a hesitant smile.

"Mhm. It's just — there's a lot of rich people here, you know?" she chuckled nervously. The last thing Esperanza wanted, in this room with all its self-made millions, was seem like a phoney — hanging off the arm of a famous footballer, letting his own hard-earned money go to waste without paying back a single penny. It was as if João could tell exactly what she was thinking the instant her smile fell. In hindsight, he probably should have realised she might feel a little out of her depth in a place like this. It was lucky his attempt to make the night a little more romantic (and away from prying eyes) had coincidentally catered for that problem as well.

"Don't worry, we're not eating here." João reassured her, "I booked a table in one of the private suites upstairs. It'll be much quieter there."

Esperanza felt her heart grow strangely light as she looked up at him. She let out a sigh, somewhere between reprimanding (she had told him after all that she didn't want him paying any more expense on her than he had to) and awe-struck astonishment. No one had ever done something like this for her before.

"João..." Esperanza huffed out a short breath, "You really didn't have to do that –"

"But I wanted to." he countered. She looked up at him, her frown softening into a faint smile. She didn't recognise the fluttering feeling in her stomach. It was completely unfamiliar, yet she felt as though she knew it at the same time. Either way, whatever it was, Esperanza found she didn't mind it in the slightest. She was known sometimes for running away from the unknown — but this time, she didn't feel like running.

A waiter dressed in a black waistcoat and bow tie appeared beside them next, breaking them out of whatever trance had descended upon them. He smiled brightly: the kind of smile that was trained and put on when the job required it, but it didn't seem completely ingenuine, "Good evening, sir and madam." he spoke in a rich Italian accent, "Do you have a reservation?"

"Uh, yes." João nodded, "It's under Félix."

"Ah!" the waiter's eyes widened in realisation, "Mr Félix! Yes, your table has just finished being prepared." he smiled widely again, gaze flickering between João and Esperanza and then back, "Please, follow me. Right this way."

He set off walking towards the back of the restaurant. They followed closely behind him. A dark oak staircase spiralled upwards to the first floor, its banisters, like the walls and doors, framed with gold leaf. Esperanza glanced around nervously, feeling as if every person seated at each of the tables in the room was watching her; judging her. She rubbed her arms self-consciously. If João noticed, he didn't make any mention of it — not until, as they reached the bottom of the staircase, he slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her in close to his side. Esperanza looked down, dazed, at his hand where it now rested on her hip. She began to feel a little faint.

The waiter left them with a smile, seated at their table to attend to some other guests. The 'booth', as João had described it, was more like their own little private room, situated next to the huge window (it could have been a glass wall, that was how big it was), overlooking the bustling commercial street below. Jazz music, and the gentle hum of chatter from some guests across the other side of the floor were the only sounds to be heard. Esperanza shuffled around in her seat, trying to take as much in of the experience as she could. If her thirteen year old self had described what her ideal date would have been like, it was something pretty similar to this. She didn't know whether it was just the setting, or something else, but the romance was so real it could almost have been tangible.

João struggled to tell by Esperanza's expression if she was impressed or a few short seconds away from running off and leaving him at that table all alone. He worried he may have gone a little bit over the top — should he have opted for something more low-key? What was acceptable for a first date anyway? It was then that João began to wish he had asked one of his friends for advice. At least then he wouldn't have felt like he was going into this completely blind.

They struggled, painfully shyly at first, through some small talk until the waiter returned with a bottle of wine to share between them. Esperanza could tell just from the label that that one bottle was probably more expensive than she would ever be willing to pay for an entire meal, let alone a single beverage. She wanted to protest against João spending so much on her, but she also didn't want to annoy him by bringing it up again. Esperanza opted instead to simply stay quiet and take a sip of her drink. Her eyes widened the moment the liquid touched her lips.

"Oh, wow." she murmured involuntarily. João looked up, cracking a smile as he saw her gazing appreciatively at the wine glass in her hands.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

Esperanza nodded enthusiastically, "It's very good."

"I thought you might like it." João smirked proudly, lifting his own glass to his lips to take a sip of the wine. Her eyes narrowed in thought.

"It's one of my favourites." he explained, "I asked for some when I booked the table."

"You've got good taste." Esperanza replied. Finally, the nervous tension in her shoulders began to ease, and she sat back in her chair, regarding João with a curious smile.

The young man arched an eyebrow, "You think?"

"Definitely."

It wasn't long before the waiter returned again to take their orders. João asked for the restaurant's slightly-more-authentic-than-the-regular spaghetti bolognese (although Esperanza still teased him afterwards for making such a basic choice), whilst she ordered the ricotta agnolotti. As she explained to João briefly once they were alone again, her mother had often made her the same dish when she was younger.

"You know how some people say Argentina is like Italy in South America?" João chuckled slightly, "You're kind of making me agree with them."

"Just because my mom likes to cook Italian food?" Esperanza arched an eyebrow in amusement. The young man shrugged.

"You sound a bit Italian when you speak Spanish, too." he went on, "Your voice sort of goes up and down."

"It does?" she pulled a face, "I never noticed."

João smiled to himself. He looked down at the table, eyes dropping away from her intense gaze. After a moment, he glanced back up, the small smile he had been wearing transforming into a barely noticeable smirk — but Esperanza noticed.

"I like it." he spoke, "It's cute."

She wasn't quite sure what to say to that. João seemed innocent enough, even with the glint she could see in his eyes and the still lingering hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Luckily, not a moment later, their food arrived. She hoped he would be too preoccupied with that to take note of her lack of response — or the pink blush dusting her cheeks. For a minute or two, they were quiet; but João didn't let it last much longer than that.

He wasn't really the kind of person who enjoyed talking about himself — it made him feel weird and self-centred. He was much more of a listener. Whenever he met someone new, João would find himself wondering about the little aspects of their lives that often went unnoticed, along with the bigger picture. He yearned for the kind of relationship that had no barriers; neither of secrets nor of trust. When he met someone who really interested him, he wanted to know everything about them.

Yet João hadn't felt that way about anyone in almost two years. Not since he and his ex girlfriend separated. Esperanza was the first person who made him want to be vulnerable again, to share things about himself that only his family and close friends really knew. Perhaps it was because she seemed to feel the same way. At first she had apologised for talking too much, as she put it, but now, as they tucked into their food, she would answer any of his questions without hesitation. He loved listening to her talk so passionately about herself, even if it seemed like the most mundane of things. João didn't need to say anything; he was perfectly happy just letting her talk.

But equally, Esperanza could be a listener rather than a talker when she met someone who intrigued her. It didn't take long for her to notice that she was doing most of the speaking, and he asking all the questions.

"So..." she began after a brief pause in their conversation, "How are you feeling after... you know..." Esperanza trailed off. She winced sympathetically as João let out a deep sigh.

"Frustrated." he answered honestly, "I was stupid. I just wanted to prove that I could make a difference, and I pushed it too far. Now I can't play for weeks." the young man shook his head in disappointment directed purely at himself. Esperanza watched him for a moment, debating with herself what she could possibly do to make him feel any better. Eventually, once she'd plucked up the courage, she reached out and placed her hand on the arm he held braced against the table. João's head shot up.

"People will see what you can do. I know it." Esperanza spoke gently, "I may not be a football expert, but I'm not stupid. I can tell the difference between an average player and a player like... well... you." she flushed crimson, pulling her hand away from João's arm as a sudden wave of self-consciousness came over her. It was the way he looked at her. It made Esperanza nervous.

"I've actually started watching a couple of matches." she changed the subject quickly, hoping it was quick enough that he wouldn't catch on to her sudden nerves.

"Oh, yeah?" João sat back in his seat, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah." she nodded, "I watched Manchester United and Manchester City city on Saturday... and I watched the Chelsea match on Sunday. I don't know any of the players in this league though, so I was a bit confused — but it was fun anyway. I kind of get why you're all so obsessed with it."

To tell the truth, in the past, Esperanza had found her family's (and the rest of Argentina's) fixation with all things football a little bit annoying. She appreciated the national pride aspect when it came to the likes of Messi and Maradona, but not so much the actual game. So pretty much the only time she ever watched it was when Messi was playing, either for Barcelona (she'd given up when he moved to PSG) or for Argentina's national team. The World Cup marked Esperanza's first discovery of her appreciation for football. There was nothing quite like a long-awaited opportunity for redemption on the pitch to bring a whole country together. Besides, it was difficult not to get caught up in the buzz of it all when everyone she knew could talk about nothing other than the World Cup. Esperanza genuinely enjoyed it.

She thought now that maybe, if she didn't have to study so much for her finals, she might have started watching some league football again. It was a good, mindless distraction from the stress of exams, especially considering she was a neutral when it came to the Premier League. Esperanza felt no affiliation towards any one team. However — watching the Chelsea match on Sunday, she might have felt herself rooting for them to win just a little bit more than usual. She knew that João wasn't playing of course, but that still didn't stop her from secretly hoping his team would do well (even if he was only on loan). Who knew what it would be like when she actually watched him play?

"I don't know what I'd do without football." João sighed a little whimsically, "It's pretty much been my entire life since I was a kid. I can't imagine doing anything else."

Esperanza tilted her head to the side in curiosity, "Did you not go to school?" she asked.

"I did until I was sixteen, but I dropped out after that to focus on my career."

Esperanza whistled. It hit her then how vastly different their lives really were. She could never imagine making a decision like that at such a young age; a decision that could detrimentally affect his future if things didn't go to plan with football. She would only ever be able to imagine the kind of pressure that might put on a teenage boy. Something like that just wasn't part of her world — for Esperanza, the route of her life had only ever led her to now: university, and eventually, a stable, well-paying job. That was all she had ever asked for.

"What do you think you would have done if you couldn't play anymore?" she asked again after a moment of silence. João sat back in seat, furrowing his eyebrows in thought.

"I really don't know." he murmured, "I've never really had anything else."

In his youth, whenever anyone had asked him what he wanted to be when he was older, the answer had always been the same. João never really liked to stop to consider how differently his life could have turned out with only the slightest of changes; a tiny mistake here, another incomprehensible twist of fate there, and it all could have been over for him. He didn't suppose Esperanza had ever experienced that kind of uncertainty. She seemed to know exactly which direction her life was heading — and she certainly had the drive to make it where she wanted to be.

"Maybe that's a sign." the young woman shrugged, "You were just born to play football."

"Maybe I was." João nodded slowly. His eyes came to focus on her figure, slightly shrouded in shadow as the lights in the restaurant grew dimmer with the passing minutes.

"I wish I'd had that kind of certainty in my future when I was a kid." Esperanza went on. His eyebrows knitted together in surprise.

"You didn't?"

"Oh, God no." she laughed, "I had a really tough time trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. I almost didn't make it into UCL because I put my application in so much later than everyone else. I was still trying to decide, right up until the deadline."

"Really?" João sat forward in intrigue, "I don't know why... I kind of assumed you're one of those super driven people who knew what they wanted to be pretty much from day one..." he trailed off as Esperanza shook her head, smiling wryly, "What would you have done instead then?"

"Well, I was debating whether to study art at university." she began.

"That makes sense." João's smile made her pause, "You're very good at it."

"Thank you." Esperanza flushed slightly at his compliment, "I actually got into SAIC in Chicago to study Fine Art before I decided to apply for UCL. It was a really difficult decision — I never knew if I was doing the right thing, I just had to sort of hope that it would work out."

"And did it?" João asked.

"I think so. I've met some amazing people at UCL, and I really do love my course. Plus, London has kind of become my second home now. I'm going to miss it when I graduate."

Studying at UCL had also meant meeting João; but Esperanza thought it may have been a little soon to tell him she was beginning to consider that as one of the benefits of her decision. She decided to stay quiet about that one.

They lapsed into comfortable silence. João was deep in thought as he finished off the last of his meal. He thought back to what she'd said earlier... People will see what you can do. I know it. His chest had flared up with that familiar, kind of terrifying warmth when those words left her lips. Esperanza seemed to have more faith in him than he did, even though she'd barely known him for more than a week. It felt good to be believed in, but it felt even better that she was the one believing in him. For whatever reason, whether it was that he had feelings for her (proper ones, not just the fleeting crush-type), João already wanted Esperanza to think highly of him. He wanted to chase that warm sensation in his chest. It made him feel good. For the first time in a long time, he felt seen.

When she pushed her now empty plate away from her, placing her knife and fork side by side on the ceramic surface, João opened his mouth to ask her another question. But just as soon as he began to speak the words, Esperanza cut him off quickly.

"No. No more questions." she shook her head, "I've done enough talking about myself for one night. Now you talk."

João's mouth snapped shut. His lips formed into a small pout, which only made her giggle in light breaths that were as sweet to his ears as his favourite song.

"But I don't like talking about myself," he complained, "I'd rather talk about you — get to know you."

"Getting to know someone goes both ways, João." Esperanza retorted with raised eyebrows, "I feel like I've told you so much about me, and I still barely know anything about you... the real you, not what it says on your Wikipedia page." she added, rolling her eyes.

João couldn't conceal the smirk that crept its way onto his face at that, "Did you look me up?" he asked her. Esperanza froze for a moment, realising suddenly that she'd been caught out. Her cheeks flushed bright red, the brightest they had been all night, and her eyes dropped to fix on the empty plate in front of her.

"I might have done." she admitted. João tipped his head back, letting out a soft chuckle. Her gaze still didn't lift back up to meet his, but she she groaned half-playfully back at him as his laughter grew louder. He couldn't help it — Esperanza's pink cheeks, her suddenly flustered appearance, and the smile she didn't seem to be able to banish despite her embarrassment, all served as nothing but yet more things that made him like her even more. She was adorably shy, but at the same time, João knew she could be anything but. He wondered if it was just him that made her that way. He hoped it was.

Esperanza's embarrassment soon melted away, and she was giggling away with João's soft chuckles before too long. She still couldn't meet his eyes, though. Something about them made her fear that she might get too lost, too caught up in the moment; and that made her feel vulnerable. Esperanza was almost positive at this point that whatever it was she felt for him was at least somewhat reciprocated (she couldn't be certain of completely, so she'd have to settle for somewhat for now). However, that did little to ease the churning nerves inside her stomach. It was more than butterflies — it was as if an entire menagerie had been set loose to rampage around her insides. Esperanza could be pretty sure of the fact now; she'd never felt that before.

"Why do you do that?" João questioned as they both finally fell silent again, in perfectly unrehearsed unison. She tilted her head to the side, confused.

"Do what?"

"Look away from me when you laugh." he elaborated, "I'm looking at you, but you won't look back at me. Why do you do it?"

Infuriatingly, Esperanza felt her cheeks heat up again. She'd done enough blushing just tonight to last her an entire lifetime.

"I don't know..." she sighed deeply. She did know. It was because he was nothing short of beautiful. Esperanza didn't think she'd ever met someone quite as flawless as João Félix was, whether he knew that or not. She figured he should have done, but it always seemed to be the most striking people who never realised how other people saw them. Esperanza was not usually a shy person — quite the opposite; she'd been described by her family and friends as loudmouth on more than a few occasions — yet João somehow managed to reduce her to a flustered, blushing mess simply by looking at her.

"You make me nervous." Esperanza admitted finally. She took his words on board this time, fighting against her natural instincts to raise her head from the table and meet his gaze. He watched on, expectant, wide eyed, "It's a bit annoying actually. I never normally struggle to talk to people. I'm pretty extroverted... but I get really nervous around you. I never know what to say."

It was João's turn to look away this time. He smirked, now almost one hundred percent sure that his worries about Esperanza not feeling the same way about him as he felt about her were completely stupid. Still, he hadn't expected her to admit that so openly, without a semblance of hesitation. To João's dismay, he felt his cheeks begin to heat up with a crimson blush that flared across his face, much like how it had appeared on Esperanza's.

"Does that mean you like me?" he asked finally, half holding his breath as he blurted the words out. It had always been his intention to tell her exactly how he felt tonight. João didn't want to be the kind of guy that was so hesitant he ended up losing the girl he wanted because he'd left it too long to tell her. While it was true that he'd wanted to get to know Esperanza first (and wasn't that what first dates were for, anyway?), João was emotionally mature enough now, at twenty three years of age, to recognise that he had feelings for her - strong enough feelings to want to see if they could become something more than just neighbours or friends. Even if they'd only actually spoken a handful of times, that much was fairly obvious to him. He wasn't about to beat around the bush if he thought he had a shot.

Miraculously, Esperanza managed to fight off the blush creeping onto her face this time. Perhaps that had something to do with the way her eyes rolled involuntarily — as if it wasn't obvious enough that she liked him.

"What do you think, João?" the young woman muttered with a half-smile. She watched him, deciding to take on board his earlier comment about struggling to hold eye contact; watched the way his own eyes seemed to search hers for confirmation. He'd appeared so sure of himself before. Esperanza wondered if he was secretly just as hesitant as she was. Maybe they both needed the same thing: a hint of reassurance. She did her best to show him exactly that in her eyes as he continued to search them. Then at last, João seemed to understand.

"For the record, I like you too." he added, breaking the thick silence that had fallen between them, "I really want to get to know you better, if you'll let me."

Esperanza stifled a grin, "I'd love that." she spoke gently, "We'll have to do this again sometime."

João agreed without hesitation. Normally, he'd be worried about appearing too eager, but right now, he didn't see much point in pretending he wasn't already thinking about their possible future dates in his head. He figured from Esperanza's dazed smile that she was doing the same.

They left the restaurant almost an hour later after sharing a dessert and paying the bill, being sure to leave the nice waiter a decent tip along with it. João's arm wrapped around Esperanza's shoulders, much like it had lay around her waist on the way up, as they walked out of the main doors. She smiled giddily into her shoulder. There was nothing quite like the feeling of sparks being left on her skin by his touch. She'd never experienced anything quite like it before.

João led her down the street towards where he'd parked his car; the hand which had now moved from her shoulder to her waist never once wavering. Only when they were sat down and he was starting the engine did he move it. Esperanza bit her lip to try and control the excitement she could feel bubbling up in her stomach. Out of all the scenarios she'd been imagining might play out tonight (both the good and the bad), this was by far the best one. João was the perfect gentleman: opening the car door for her, offering his arm to help her out, even waiting for her to step inside the elevator before he followed. It felt like nothing short of a dream — the kind of thing that only ever happened in books, where no one seemed to have any flaws. Esperanza had given up hiding her smile by the time they reached her apartment. Besides — João's was mirroring it now.

"Thank you for tonight." she whispered to him in the darkness, "I had a really good time."

"Me too." he murmured back. He had insisted on walking her to her to apartment door, even though his own apartment was on the other side of the lift, so he'd have to turn and walk back again once she was inside. Esperanza's heart could have melted at how eager he was to walk with her. Even when she'd told him she could make it back perfectly fine on her own, he'd waved the idea away in an instant. It was (for lack of a better word) adorable.

"I meant what I said earlier." João went on, sounding breathless all of a sudden, almost like he'd forgotten how to breathe properly, "I know we haven't known each other long, but I like you a lot."

Esperanza's eyes flickered to the ground and back up again, giving her a few all-important milliseconds to compose herself. She was growing breathless too. The hallway suddenly felt a lot smaller than it had been walking through; and the space between their bodies seemed to have reduced to mere inches without her realising.

"I really like you too." she whispered. Esperanza didn't think she was imagining it now — João had definitely stepped closer when she was too busy admiring him, and now he was so close she could see the little golden flecks in his eyes. The air was thick, filled with promise. She didn't know what he was going to do — she had her hopes, but João was leaving her none the wiser, as his gaze flickered to the ground and back up again.

He looked nervous.

The tension only grew the longer the words he wanted to say remained stuck in his throat. With parted lips, he could do nothing but stare for a moment, utterly transfixed. Call him shallow, but João was having a hard time thinking about anything other than how pretty she was; Esperanza seemed, to him, to have not a single flaw, neither in her outward or inner appearance. He could have searched for hours and hours, but he wouldn't have found so much as a blemish.

She gazed up at him with wide brown eyes, waiting, expecting. João watched the way her red-stained lips parted ever-so-slightly, caught in a daze as he found his body moving closer and closer towards hers, like there was some kind of invisible string pulling him in. Esperanza's unsteady breaths tickled his chin. He could see her glancing at his lips, even if she tried to play it off by refocussing on his eyes a second later: they always returned to his lips.

He'd left her with a kiss the last time they met. Why break the streak?

"Can I kiss you?" João whispered into the thick silence. It had grown darker in the hallway now, and the only light illuminating Esperanza's face came from a singular overhead lamp which had been left on outside the elevator. Somehow, in the dim glow, she looked even more beautiful. His heart raced inside his chest, beating in such a frenzy he wondered how she couldn't hear it. If he'd asked her, she would have said it was because of her own heart — there was no way she could have heard his over its hammering.

Esperanza hadn't the breath left in her lungs to offer a verbal reply. She just about managed to nod, letting out a slightly choked hum which she hoped he would realise translated to a definite yes. It was all she wanted — a sweet, romantic moment to end what had already been one of the best nights of her life. And João's lips looked soft. She'd been longing to know what they would feel like against hers since the moment he turned up at her apartment door.

The young man exhaled. Then, in one swift movement, he inched forward and kissed her.

Esperanza's eyes fluttered shut.

It wasn't heated or rushed, or filled with burning desperation. It was soft. João's lips moved slowly against hers, filling the pit of her stomach with a warm, tingly sensation: the kind of warmth you would feel holding your hand over a dying candle wick. There was passion in it too. The kiss didn't need to be all teeth and tongue for that. Even something so comparatively chaste was packed with so much desire, neither of them wanted it to end. But only a few seconds later, it did. João drew back, breathing a little heavier than before, cheeks flushed pink and lips turning up at the corners, to look Esperanza in the eye.

She felt as though her world had been turned upside down.

João Félix made her feel things not even two years of dating had been able to evoke in her, and all it took was one simple kiss. That scared her a little, if she was being honest — but she couldn't get over how good, how intoxicating his lips felt against hers, even for only those short few seconds. It was euphoric. Esperanza needed more.

So without a second thought, she brought her hand to rest on the back of João's neck, and pulled him down until their lips met again. He smiled into the kiss — she could feel him against her mouth. It was impossible not to reciprocate it, even while locked in an embrace which grew steadily more passionate, more unrestrained as the seconds wore on. João's tongue teased her bottom lip, probing for entrance. Esperanza would have freely let him; but she was aware now that the buzz inside of her was not just due to her company. João's wine was having more of an effect on her than she'd first realised.

They pulled away for the second time, breath mingling, with shared smiles painted across both their faces. He pressed his forehead against hers, holding it there for one second, two seconds, before he drew back to study her. She looked just as dazed as he felt. He could have kissed her again.

"Wow." he chuckled breathlessly. Esperanza looked down for a split second, letting out the softest of giggles. It had to be one of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard.

"Wow indeed." she replied.

There was a pause. They were still mere inches apart, face to face, the only space between them opening up when João took a reluctant step back. He was still smiling even as he resigned himself to walking away (though the only thing he wanted was to be as close to her as possible). Esperanza didn't think she could have kept a straight face if she tried. So there they were; slightly intoxicated, utterly enamoured, grinning at each other like idiots. It took a minute for it to hit them. When it did, they couldn't help but laugh, in hushed, secretive tones — not just because they'd run the risk of waking up Mrs Davies otherwise, but because this moment was theirs. Only theirs.

"Can I see you again soon?" João blurted out suddenly. His eyes grew wide with hope as they looked down at her, silently repeating the question.

"You can see me whenever you want, João." Esperanza arched an eyebrow, "We live in the same apartment block."

He breathed a sigh, feigning exasperation, "You know what I mean."

She did. João didn't want to just see her around again. He'd quickly grown tired of the rushed hello's in the morning and the waves from across the street — fleeting moments, gone too quickly for them to mean anything. He wanted to see her as in take her out on impromptu dates; walk her to the train station in the morning; even just sit in the silence of her apartment and watch as she painted. He wanted to experience the little aspects of her life. In his mind, that was the best way of truly getting to know someone. Then they could see where that took them.

João wasn't ready for a serious relationship. Not yet, anyway. Though it had been two years, he was still bruised and battered from the way his ex-girlfriend had left him. He was still damaged. But his feelings for Esperanza were real and already strong, and he knew they wouldn't be going away anytime soon. In time, he could see himself letting down the fortifications he'd built two years ago for her. Maybe she would end up being the exactly the person he needed to heal him.

For now though, João wanted to take things slow. Coffee dates and evening walks through the city, hand-in-hand — that kind of thing. It was everything he had missed out on with his previous girlfriend. He'd experienced the brief, burning passion of a relationship taken too quickly: fixated around wild, grand gestures of affection, their image as perceived by the watchful eye of the public, and sex. João wasn't about to make the same mistake twice — not with a girl who was this perfect. He hadn't a clue how he'd managed to win Esperanza over at all (let alone with how quickly it had all happened). Losing her now in the same manner he'd lost his ex-girlfriend could well have turned out to be one of the biggest mistakes of his life. Even if if they both came to realise in a couple of weeks that they just weren't compatible, João didn't dare take such a risk.

"Like I said," Esperanza murmured lowly, looking up at him through her long, dark eyelashes, "You can see me whenever you want."

He didn't doubt what that meant. She was as open to this... whatever it ended up being... as he was.

João smiled contentedly to himself.

He began to walk away, whispering a soft goodnight into the now almost full darkness. Esperanza's hand had closed around the door-handle. He heard it twist with a quiet squeaking sound. But just as his back was half turned, her voice calling him, asking him to wait, froze him in position once more.

"Do you want to come inside for a bit?" Esperanza asked, biting her lip nervously, "We could watch a movie or something."

She wasn't quite ready for the night to be over yet. If she let him leave now, she'd simply end up lying awake in bed until the early hours of the morning, consumed by the memories of tonight and the idea of ones they might make in the future. Esperanza would much rather stay awake, preferably with him, that torture herself with made-up scenarios that may never even come to pass.

João smiled. He knew he probably should have gone back to his own apartment to rest. He had training in the morning, after all: but he simply couldn't refuse her. Even if he had wanted to, her big brown eyes gazing up at him, shining in the half-light, made disappointing her next to impossible. Besides, he wasn't quite ready for the night to be over anyway. Chances were, if he left know, he'd only keep himself awake for hours thinking about her.

The moment she saw João's silhouette nodding in acceptance, Esperanza was ushering him through her apartment door. He bit back a chuckle, but, as the theme seemed to be tonight, he could do little to hide the wide smile creeping its way onto his face. It was a good thing Esperanza seemed to be fighting the same futile battle. With the door to her apartment pressed firmly shut, she spun around to face him, wearing a grin that was nothing short of radiant. It left João speechless. He barely even heard what she began to say next as she switched on her TV and opened Netflix.

"So what do you want to watch? I don't know about you, but I'm in the mood for Dirty Dancing..."

BONUS!

liked by @millie_vallejos_ @doutzzaalsburg and 45 others

anziicabrera 🖤

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millie_vallejos_ good luckkk 😉

doutzzaalsburg Don’t forget to use protection! 😁😁

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#joao felix #joao felix fic #joao felix imagine #joao felix x oc #chelsea fc #football #football imagines #football fic #joao felix x fem!oc #sliding doors

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withoutyouimsaskia · 1 year

Text

Remember Me, Special Dreams

Part XIII.

GIF: Originally posted by @kaneshiro-takeshi

Summary: Self-insert. You're having trouble with recurring night terrors and Morpheus pays you a visit. (Title from the lyrics of Placebo’s Special Needs)

Warnings: language, angst, mentions of night terrors.

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Hello there! Thursday saw the moment arrive that all Sandman fans have been waiting for: Series 2 has been green-lit! What a lovely thing it was to wake up to. This chapter, I’ve just realised, is full-on therapy so prepare yourself for some serious feels. Hope you are doing well, all my love, Saskia <3

Sandman Masterlist

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The recognition of your sentiments for Morpheus unlocks a stronghold in your mind that you had been striving so meticulously to keep bolted shut.

It ekes into your subconscious, filling the rest of your night with The Keeper of the Dreaming. Not the real him. The edges of his form are blurred like that of a 1980s sci-fi TV show hologram.

The conjuring does very little. Just stands and watches you go about your business in all your dreamscapes. But he is steadfastly there. A constant, niggling reminder of your blossoming feelings.

When morning comes, you throw yourself out of your bed sheet sandwich, possessed by an unmanageable, chaotic energy.

You pace back and forth in a flurry of polka dotted pyjamas, sighing with enough melodrama that you could likely be heard from two streets away.

"You can't do this," you say loudly.

You stop in front of the floor length mirror. Your inverted image regards you with disdain.

"You need to get your shit together, Y/N. He is your friend."

A thought suddenly occurs to you that helps your argument with your heart.

"In fact, friend relationships are not given the same level of importance in society as romantic ones so caring deeply for him is not only a perfectly good thing, it is also very... umm... progressive," you babble away to the point of incoherence.

You become serious, staring yourself down with narrowed eyes. "But what you can't do with your friends is fantasise about touching their hair. Or anything else for that matter."

A long breath of air is sucked into your lungs.

"You're allowed to care for him in a platonic way. That is it."

You press the heels of your hands into the hollows of your eyes before abruptly looking back to your mirror twin.

"Pla-ton-ic." You sound out each syllable slowly.

“Platonic. Platonic. Platonic.” The words are a chisel and hammer and your brain is the rock. You have to get this sorted before you slip any deeper.

You then walk purposefully out the room to take a shower.

***

You only have to wait one extra night before you get to see Morpheus again.

You materialise in the familiar, cosy surroundings of all your rendezvous.

He is there waiting for you.

The change in him is palpable from just the way he stands. His mouth is set into a grim, hard line. There is hardly any lightness behind his eyes.

Pain rises up again inside you; you have to know what is going on.

“You are well?” He asks formally.

“Y-yes. Thank you,” you stammer, thrown off guard before righting yourself and asking your question in a small voice.

"What happened?"

"It is of little consequence now."

You watch him internalise and suppress, closing his eyes and clenching his jaw.

"Morpheus," you call out softly. "Talk to me, please."

You motion towards the armchair.

He sits reluctantly, yet with his usual grace and you sit among your menagerie of blankets and pillows.

His voice is hoarse and weary. “There was a matter of insubordination that I needed to address. A certain creation of mine took advantage of my distracted state yesterday and acted outside of their function."

You are awash with guilt. You were one of his duties last night; you wonder if you had inadvertently contributed to the situation.

You press forwards, trying to unpick his crypticism.

"Have they backed down now that you have spoken to them?"

"I did much more than speak to them, Y/N."

His fingers twitch with barely concealed rage.

Energy cracks in the air between you, you feel it prickle at your skin. You are suddenly reminded of the fact that despite appearances, he is so very far removed from what you know as the human experience. He is a live wire of power with the ability to warp and shape reality. And you are simply a spectator in his arena.

You shift in your seat. He takes note.

"Does my demeanour frighten you?"

You shake your head firmly. "No."

"It has cause to."

A chill runs through you. It is not one fashioned by fear, rather the pitch of his voice. It slices through your ear drums and reverberates in the centre of your brain making you feel like you’ve heard each word twice.

His eyes flutter closed.

"I have done things in my past, Y/N. Terrible things driven by vengeance and jealousy and in reaction to my mistakes.”

His self-loathing is as biting as an early morning winter frost. Having been in this frame of mind yourself recently, you try to be as gentle as possible with your next question.

"The thing you had to do. Did you do it because you had no other choice?"

"They were tormenting a dreamer," he replies flatly.

"So you did it as an act of protection?"

Morpheus’ composure cracks. The steel in his eyes as they bore into yours is brutal. The undercurrent in his voice is dangerous.

"I sent them to the Darkness, Y/N. I removed them from existence. It is not the first time I have resorted to such eventualities, and it will likely not be the last."

He takes a deep breath and some of the fury dies down.

“Yes, I have the option to re-build my creation again but it does not change the fact that I failed in my duties.”

You sit still and silent, feeling some of the power rolling off of him subside.

"I do not understand why are you are not more affected by this revelation, Y/N. I destroyed them without a second thought.”

His voice is low and tinged with shame. “I do not like the person that I am at times.”

Your heart breaks in that moment. You are across the room before you realise, kneeling on the ground before him so you can look up into his agony filled eyes.

You dearly want to hug him. But in lieu, you put your hand on his, causing him to stiffen. He is suddenly unable to look at you.

“I am not affected because I know all too well that doing the necessary thing is not always the same as the thing that feels pleasant. And the fact that you are cognisant of how you feel shows that you are not the monster you seem so determined to convince me that you are."

Morpheus’ eyes hold wobbling un-spilled tears. You feel yours burn with saline of your own that begins to overflow when you speak again.

"I’ll admit, I can’t fully understand the intricacies of your responsibilities but what I do know is that it is impossible to be perfect all the time.”

You swallow through the lump in your throat.

“We all have a past, Morpheus. But please remember that our pasts do not have to define us. To me, you are the person who came to me when I was in need. You spent hours trying to understand my affliction and find a solution. You created a refuge for me so I had somewhere to rest away from my dark thoughts. You listen and you remember and you are there for me. You are a good person, and I think many people including Lucienne and Matthew would agree with me.”

You squeeze his hand.

He nods but you are unsure if he is agreeing with you or trying to move on from the conversation.

"I will return next Saturday." He is back to duty so quickly.

"No, Morpheus. I think you should check in with me less often.”

Quicker than a bolt of lightning to a metal conductor, his focus snaps down to your tear streaked face.

“You said it yourself, you’ve been distracted and I imagine that I am part of the reason. Your feelings are valid and you should give them attention. Take some time to do what you need to do. Come find me in a month. I’ll be okay.”

You smile reassuringly, even though regret is clawing at your heart. The thought of a month without Morpheus is not exactly enticing; you have become so used to him, his soothing disposition and your engaging conversations. Yet it might prove beneficial for both of you. He can focus on his function and you can get over your attraction towards him.

“I’ll call if anything happens, I promise."

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

"Oh feel our bodies grow. And our souls they blend. Yeah love I hope you know, How much my heart depends."

Taglist: @pinkcyclewitch @layla2-49 @shoidy-cat @silverhart93 @boofy1998 @dotieeee @ponyboys-sunsets @fangirlmary @littledollll @fatimakinney @jamiethenerdymonster @rosaren2498 @mr-sandman-bring-me-a-dream @madiebear @sandman-33 @sallysal9 @asiludida164

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ome-magical-ramblings · 4 months

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Scrying the Fire elemental kingdom..in Retrospect.

I know, I sometime start some stuff and take a very large break or never fully bring it to closure but I think this working deserve some sort of closure. Yesterday I finished my scrying of the fire elemental realm. Anyway to cut to the chase I hope everyone remember my sandalphon-assisted elemental scrying and last scrying session was with water elemental kingdom. We get into Fire now!

Fire is like this realm that jumps toward you. This was a very distinct thing for me because I felt like the gate of fire literally "came to me" and I entered it instead of me going into it.

Definitive thing as I was getting accustomed to the world of fire realm and elemental is this sense of hot feeling all over me, and my nose started feeling like I just ate something spicy or I inhaled some chilli pepper powder in my nose. I was mind blown when I oriented myself toward the scenery ahead of me without any assumption it was like an underground HUGE caves and caverns, the caves went down and the whole place was like an underground system and it span down like channels all around.

I felt the tension and heat of the place definitely but I didn’t think that the world of fire elemental would “underground” to say that was definitely a surprise. My own spirit guide explained to me that the fire elemental world is an upside down underworld, if what I am seeing is going down it is actually about going up the realms. The vision is like this mirroring between each element. It was definitely an interesting seeing that fire elemental guide was more of a whirling humanoid figure, Very Intense and Tight, Very Whirling and Changing, not Static.

The whole world felt like a more intense and charged version of Air, faster and with more force to it. The guide took me to a circular staircase where I was blinded by bright light at the top then I saw what I can describe as scenery filled with HUGE temples and pillars they had these very distinct Greek architecture to it. The elemental guide told me that this is where spirits who choose to incarnate in earth live before going to earth, not all spirits choose to incarnate into earth but those who do live here for a while.

Afterwards I was presented with these 3 steps staircase and nothing was infront of it, I took each step and then suddenly I was met with this huge infinite wall of light with changing patterns. The wall was like a “stop sign” and I couldn’t push any further, pushing my finger into it I felt physically my finger get “heated” and sensation of sudden “stop here”. I looked above and saw what I can describe as this circling turning around of lights at the top. I assume that I needed more purification if I wanted to continue onward. Lastly, in retrospect I can see how these realms border on merkavah ascension literature, Olympic spirit work, astral projection and so on. There’s definitely an overlapping between these realms and a deeper connection between all of them in spite of what they look outwardly so disconnected, with each experience I am finding more and more that the inner realms are more self-referential and connected then they seem to be! Stay tuned for the final conjuration with Sandalphon as I finalize my discussion with him about the elemental worlds.

#occult #witchblr #magic #invocation #prayer #scrying #scrying mirror #witchcraft #spellwork #magick #ritual #divination #folk magic #elemental #meditation #art #nature

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eriquin · 6 months

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Cat's in the Cradle, Part 3

Eddie gets out of the trailer park and starts walking.

(master post)

Hawkins was in shambles and no one paid attention to Eddie as he wandered down the street. The earthquake had cut sharp gouges through the center of town, and everyone was panicking about it. On every block, he saw people loading up their cars with all their valuables and driving away. But he also saw people packing up tools and medical supplies and heading towards the fires. It was a pretty even split.

He made his way into a playground just so he could sit down on one of the benches. He wasn’t sure when the sun had risen but he felt like he’d been walking all night. The bench was cold, so he tucked his legs up into his jacket and curled up. He had only put his head down on his backpack for a second before someone was shaking him.

“Hey, kid,” the man said. “Come on, wake up.”

Eddie sat up quickly and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled. The man wasn’t wearing a uniform or anything, but he had an air of authority to him anyway. Eddie pulled his bag in front of him like a shield.

“Where are your parents, kid?” he asked. “What’s your name?”

Improve instincts kicked in. “Teddy, sir. Theodore Gamgee.” The first name was pulled from an old memory and alias. The last name had him hoping this man didn’t read a lot of fantasy. “Ma and Pa are home in Alabama, sir. Sent me to visit my cousins.”

“So what are you doing out here? Where are your cousins?”

Eddie couldn’t help tense up. He was going to have to think of plausible cousins for himself real fast. “Just arrived yesterday, sir. Tried to call ‘em, but no one answered. Then there was the... the...” He looked past the man towards the smoke coming from the center of town.

“Oh hell, you must’ve gotten here right before the earthquake. You poor kid.” The man crouched down and put his hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “Who are your cousins? Maybe I know them.”

Eddie bit his lip. “The Mayfields?” He knew Max’s mom still went by Hargrove, so this guy was unlikely to recognize the name. Add in the fact that the trailer park was trashed and vacant. “In, uh, Forest Hills? ‘Cept I don’t know how to get there.”

The man rubbed his chin and looked in the direction of the trailer park. This was a little bit of a test to see if he was honest. “Sorry to say this, son, but Forest Hills got hit pretty hard in the earthquake. Your cousins will probably be taking shelter down at the high school. That’s where they’ve got everyone set up.” And he passed.

Eddie got up and put his backpack on. He looked in the same direction the man was, then back at the smoke. “Thank you, sir. An’ where’s the high school?”

He got up and pointed in the right direction. “It’s that way. I’m about to head over there with some donations.” He jerked his hand towards his pickup, the back of which was filled with boxes. “You want a ride?”

Would the little lost boy persona he’d conjured up trust this guy enough to get in a truck with him? Eddie wasn’t sure, but he figured that if something went fishy it wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to duck and roll out of a moving vehicle. And he’d been walking for a long time already and was tired and hungry. He accepted and climbed into the passenger seat.

For once, things worked out for him. As soon as the truck stopped in the high school parking lot, he ditched the man and ran for the building. Surely, Wayne would be here somewhere. But the gymnasium was full of people and he was so short now. He wandered between groups looking for his uncle’s silver beard and balding head. No luck. He did a couple more circuits of everyone before deciding that Wayne definitely wasn’t anywhere in the room. There were a couple of plastic chairs with line of sight to the front doors. Eddie sat in one and put his backpack under his feet and watched as people filed in. He wasn’t the only one keeping watch. He wasn’t even the youngest, though most of the kids here were with at least one adult.

He dozed off again after a while and woke with a start, wondering if he’d missed his uncle. The room was still buzzing with noise, and he picked up his bag and started another round of checking on faces. A lot of people were milling around a bulletin board filled with missing persons posters. They were grumbling about something and someone was scribbling on one of the posters. Eddie snuck around the crowd to see what they were doing and got a clear view once they stepped out of the way. He heard a mutter of the word ‘Freak’ and saw devil horns scribbled over his own little black-and-white picture. It hurt more than it should have, probably because he knew that Wayne must have put the poster up. Eddie covered his mouth and turned away.

A forty-something woman with a bob haircut patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry, hon,” she said gently. “Even with everything, we’re still keeping an eye out for him. You’re safe here.”

Eddie flinched and ducked away from her. He pushed past a couple more people and ran through the crowd until he got to the men’s room and shut himself inside a stall. He forgot how thirteen-year-old him would cry at the drop of a hat. He hadn’t missed the wild ride of pubescent hormones fucking with his emotions.

It wasn’t just that, though. He could admit it to himself. He’d spent the last few days on the most nauseatingly horrific roller coaster ride, but at least he’d quickly gotten some backup in the form of a group of people who seemed to know what they were doing. Now the world was ending, his friends thought he was dead, and he was completely untethered from anything solid. He had no idea what was going to become of him. He had to check in on Wayne, somehow, but after that he also had to get back to Dustin and let him know what had happened. He just didn’t know how to do it.

He left the stall and washed his face and thought. Wayne wasn’t in the shelter, but Wayne had been there to put up a poster. His uncle was a stubborn son of a bitch, in his own words, and he knew he’d come back to check on that poster and put up a fresh one. They weren’t going to kick a kid his age out of the shelter. Hell, no one had even asked him any questions yet. They had a food table set up and just kept handing out soup and sandwiches to whoever wanted them. He could probably even snag a cot and get some sleep that night.

With a plan in mind, Eddie left the bathroom and focused on getting through the night.

#cat's in the cradle #my writing #stranger things

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saiilorstars · 1 year

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Ch. 6: The Oswell

Fandom: Harry Potter (hogwarts year 1-7) Pairing: Draco x OFC

taglist: @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @foxesandmagic

Story Masterlist // Romina’s Masterlist

If you’d like to be a part of this OC’s work/edits, let me know!

November arrived and passed midway and the only thing that had changed was that Hermione was now good friends with Harry and Ron. Romina was glad for it. However, she herself was still struggling to speak with Harry. Hermione had helped her countless times but with no results.

"Yesterday, I heard a Ravenclaw whispering about you," Hermione whispered to Romina while scribbling the last bit of her potions homework.

The students were all doing their homework in the Great Hall and since it was free, there were no special seating arrangements by House. Romina and Hermione sat just opposite from Harry and Ron.

"I told her it wasn't true," Hermione said obviously. "But it didn't stop her from continuing with her friends."

Romina groaned. "Why does everyone find me so damn interesting?" She looked away from her homework just for a second, but probably the most interesting second of that morning yet. Seamus Finnigan was trying to do his Transfiguration homework a couple feet from them.

"Eye of rabbit, harp string hum. Turn this water, into rum," he eagerly looked into the cup but saw no such thing. "Eye of rabbit, harp string hum…"

Romina bit her lip as she desperately tried not to laugh. "Um, is he for real trying to change that glass of water into rum?"

Hermione barely gave the spectacle a moment of care. "He's trying. I heard yesterday he made some sort of weak tea—"

BAM!

Both girls, as did the rest of the table, jumped in their spots when Seamus' cup literally exploded and left Seamus with a soot-covered face again. Everyone burst into laughter, including Hermione who was trying to hide it behind her book.

The laughter stopped, however, when Snape appeared. He stopped by the table after picking up a student's parchment, paying no attention to Seamus of course. "Good luck today, Potter." Harry looked up but by now had learned better than to snap back. "Then again, now that you've proven yourself against a troll, a little game of Quidditch should be easy work for you...even if it is against Slytherin." With that, he headed out of the Great Hall.

Harry watched after him with narrowed eyes. "See that limping he's doing?" he said to his friends. "I'm guessing Snape let the troll in as a diversion so he could try and get past that 3 headed dog. But, he got himself bitten and so that's why he's limping."

Romina stared in disbelief. Did he just conjure up that story in ten seconds? He had to be losing it now. She was sure of it. "That's my head of House I'll remind you."

"Rom, just listen," Harry requested in order to finish his theory. "The day I was at Gringotts, Hagrid took something out of one of the vaults. He said it was Hogwarts' business, very secret. I'm betting that's what's being guarded by the three-headed dog."

"And you're also saying that Snape wants it," Romina could simply not believe him at the moment. "Harry Potter, you've got some nerve! Throwing accusations like that! I'm not going to listen to any of this!" And so she started gathering her things, getting up. "I'd say good luck at your game but I'm just that upset with you!"

Harry wasn't even bothered, more annoyed that she wasn't taking him seriously.

Romina marched off with her head held high.

~ 0 ~

"I've no idea what this is but I'm super excited!" Arden exclaimed as she, Romina, and Pansy found their seats in one of the middle rows of the stands.

"How do you not know what Quidditch is?" Pansy couldn't get over the fact Arden had no idea what the most famous wizard sport was. "Were you raised by wolves?"

Arden rolled her eyes. "I was raised by fine parents, thank you very much. Muggles don't do Quidditch. We do basketball, football, volleyball—"

"What's all that?" Pansy crinkled her nose.

"Were you raised by wolves or what?" Arden mimicked Pansy's high-pitched voice. Pansy huffed and looked away.

"Settle down please," Daphne Greengrass warned them from the bleacher above them. "It's just a game, nothing important."

"Oh, don't let the boys hear that," Romina looked back at her, smirking, "I swear I heard them go back and forth for 10 minutes on the best way to fly a broom. It's like c'mon boys, at the end of the day, they're just brooms."

Daphne chuckled. "Oh, you've missed a lot from those guys. We run in the same social circle. Draco and Blaise take their Quidditch very seriously. It gets on all of our nerves, especially Theodore."

"Nott?" Romina raised an eyebrow.

Daphne nodded. "Yeah, he's not all that into Quidditch but since his family basically clumps him with Draco and Blaise, he doesn't have much of a choice but to listen to them. They claim to be experts."

"Huh, so I bet that's why Draco was fuming that Harry got a spot on the team," Arden nodded to herself. "Couldn't stand that somebody else got that place."

"That, and because he absolutely detests Harry," Romina muttered distractedly. She was trying to find Harry in the midst of all the tall Gryffindors.

"Well, it is a bit unfair," Daphne said, "Why should Harry be given a special spot on the team if he's just a first year like the rest of us?"

"Because he's that good," Romina shrugged, not thinking so much about it until Daphne made a good point.

"And how do they know that there isn't another first year who's just as good as Harry if they don't give us the opportunity to try out?"

"She got us there," Arden commended Daphne for her argument and perspective.

"I think they're about to start," Pansy watched Madame Hooch approach the two opposing teams.

Romina had finally found Harry stuck between the Weasley twins. When Madame Hooch blew her whistle, the fifteen team members flew high in the air.

Lee Jordan was set to do the commentary, and my what a way of introduction he had. "And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor - what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too—"

"JORDAN!" McGonagall immediately cut him off. She was supervising him...apparently.

"Sorry, Professor," Lee apologized and continued commenting.

Not a minute later had Gryffindor made a score thanks to Angelina Johnson. While Gryffindors cheered for their win, Slytherins threw them all dirty looks. It didn't help when Gryffindor proceeded to score twice afterwards.

"We are getting crushed," Romina crinkled her nose.

The team seemed to agree and decided to retaliate however they could.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee's voice carried over the sky. "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the - wait a moment - was that the Snitch?"

The entire crowd, as did Harry, all looked up and about for the small golden ball. When Harry saw it, he zoomed off, but just behind him was the Slytherin seeker, Terrence Higgs. They were side by side in no time, and everyone - including the rest of the players - were staring after them. It appeared Harry would've snatched the golden-winged Snitch if it wasn't for the Slytherin team captain, Marcus Flint, blocked Harry and caused his broom to spiral off course. Harry had to hold onto his broom until he could get back in control.

The Gryffindor collectively shouted 'Foul' to which the Slytherins overpowered with cheering. However, Madam Hooch had taken Flint aside to probably scold the hell out of him. Gryffindors were allowed a free shot.

"So, after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating—"

"Jordan!" McGonagall once again cut Lee off despite his words having actual truth in them.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul—"

"Jordan, I'm warning you!"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinner, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue to play, Gryffindor still in possession."

The game went back and forth, causing mixtures of groans and cheers to escape from the crowd. Suddenly, Harry's broom lurched forwards despite not being hit by the bludgers.

Romina squinted her eyes in hopes of getting a better look at Harry. She wished she had brought binoculars like some of the other students had. If only she'd known.

"What is he doing?" Arden was staring at Harry with confusion and a bit of terror.

Pansy couldn't care less. "Higgs can find the Snitch now!"

Romina rolled her eyes. Of course Pansy wouldn't care what was going on with Harry and his broom. She doubted anyone but her and Arden would care.

"Slytherin in possession!" Lee had to go on commentating like he had also not paid attention to Harry's odd movements, "Flint with the Quaffle - passes Spinnet - passes Bell—hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose—only joking, Professor—Slytherins score."

The entire course of Slytherins erupted into cheers. Romina did the same but she couldn't help feel worried over Harry. For some reason, he kept flying up and up. It wasn't until his broom began nearly thrashing against him did everyone finally notice him. Then, the broom jerked and poor Harry nearly let go. Only one hand maintained him in the air. At one point, Fred and George tried retrieving him but the broom seemed to have a mind of its own and flew higher than the twins. They then attempted to do the opposite and flew lower in case Harry actually fell and they could catch him.

Romina stared at Harry, terrified, he might actually fall and not be caught by the Weasley twins. But suddenly, just like that, Harry regained control and clambered back on his broom. He then sped down, like he had a mission hitting the ground. Romina crinkled her nose in disgust when she thought she saw Harry eating a bug. When he crashed on the ground, his teammates surrounded him to help him but in the end the crowd heard Harry shouting 'I've got the Snitch!'

As soon as he waved the golden snitch, the crowd - but Slytherins - shouted their cheers. Gryffindors won by one hundred and seventy points...to sixty.

~0~

After much debate, Snape had been concluded to be the prime culprit of bewitching Harry's broom in the Quidditch game. All this was being transferred to Romina through Hermione, after the two girls were dismissed from their History of Magic class.

"That makes no sense!" Romina shook her head. She was beginning to tire of voicing her disagreement when it came to Snape. "Why would Snape put a curse on Harry's broom?"

"I don't know but I saw him mumbling the curse, I swear," Hermione promised, and Romina hated to acknowledge that Hermione wasn't one to make things up like that. "And we're sure Hagrid knows more than he's letting on too. You know the three-headed creature guarding the trapdoor?"

"Allegedly."

"It's Hagrid's! He named it Fluffy!"

Romina cracked a smile. "That sounds like something Hagrid would do."

"Well, of course. He bought him from someone last year and now he's let Dumbledore use him to guard whatever is down the trapdoor."

"This all sounds far-fetched," Romina stopped just by the staircase leading to the Great Hall. "I just can't believe that a professor would want to go against Dumbledore."

Hermione groaned and threw her head back. "Because he's your head of House. I know—"

"It's not that!" Romina frowned at her. "Can't you just accept that it was ridiculous?"

Hermione seemed to take that as a challenge, and no one had yet to win against her. "We know there's something Snape wants and we know that something is being hidden. Does the name Nicholas Flamel ring a bell?"

Romina's eyebrows knitted together. "No."

"Hagrid accidentally told us he and Dumbledore were hiding something. So we know that there is something."

"Hagrid said that?" Romina dreaded with guilt to think she was beginning to sound truly wrong.

"Mhm. He did. Now do you believe us?" Hermione awaited with an aura of triumph radiating off her.

Romina sighed. "I believe that there is something being guarded...but I refuse to believe professor Snape is trying to steal it."

Hermione did not falter. She gave a sharp look in Romina's direction. "Okay. It's a start. But now we have to start looking into this Nicolas Flamel dude. Would you help?"

"With that of course," Romina nodded her head.

"Romina! Romina!" they suddenly heard Arden crying out. Romina and Hermione looked to their left to see Arden running towards them from across. She seemed out of breath and with blotchy red skin. "They're all saying it's your fault!"

"What?" Romina barely registered Arden's words considering they were stuck between pants.

Arden stopped at the base of the staircase, hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. This, however, did not stop her from talking. "They're saying—" she panted, "Everyone! They're saying that it's your f-fault!"

"My fault? About what?"

"The broomstick!" Arden waved wildly. "Harry's broomstick! They're saying - it was you! You bewitched it!"

Romina nearly fell over from the surprise of such words. "What!? Why would anyone say that!?" Hermione immediately put her hands up when Romina threw an accusing look her way.

Pansy appeared out of nowhere but looked the exact opposite of Arden. She was ecstatic. "I didn't know you could actually do that kind of magic, Oswell! Look at you! You'll be a brilliant witch!"

Romina ignored Pansy when she started noticing other students giving her strange looks while they walked past her. Some of them were mumbling things and Romina swore she'd heard 'her parents' in some of those whispers. Had they begun to finally talk about her to the point of having the entire school know about her?

"Oh…" Romina didn't know what to do, but thankfully Hermione was there to help her.

"We should go to class, c'mon," Hermione pulled on Romina's arm. "Quirrell won't like us being there late."

"But what do they mean about your parents?" Arden asked while Hermione pulled Romina down the staircase. "Rom?"

"Stop pestering her!" Hermione finally snapped and shushed Arden up. With her head raised, she dragged Romina with her.

Arden scowled and watched after the two. "Granger knows what's going on." Her eyes widened and she quickly turned to Pansy. "Do you know what it is?" The way Pansy's lips stretched into a smirk, indicating she knew a thing or two. Arden put her hands on her hips. "Spill, Parkinson."

~0~

When Romina and Hermione entered their DADA class, Romina felt truly horrible when everyone's chatter ceased and she became the center of everyone's attention. Romina thanked the Gods Harry wasn't there yet.

"What do you want?" Hermione snapped at them and had every single student quickly turn in their seats to face the board. "That's what I thought."

Romina swallowed hard and followed Hermione down the class to their seats. As soon as they sat down, Romina heard a familiar, snarky voice enter the room. There was a sudden fury inside her, with a twinge of betrayal, and pushed herself up.

"What are you doing?" Hermione whispered.

Romina ignored her and walked towards the desks in the back. "I can't believe you would tell everyone about me."

Draco looked away from his goons with a complete, justified, scowl. "Excuse you?"

"You knew about me before everyone started talking. Now all of a sudden everyone claims I bewitched Harry's broom during his Quidditch game?"

"People knew you the moment McGonagall read your name to be sorted," Draco snapped. "It was only a matter of time till people started making up lies about you."

Romina was about to sourly retort when the last of Draco's words caught her attention. "Lies? You...you don't think I bewitched Harry's broom?"

The loud scoff Draco gave was more than enough an answer. "You? Bewitch Potter's broom?"

Romina mouthed an 'okay' as she looked away, flushed. "Alright then. My bad."

"Yes, your bad," Draco meant to make her feel guilty for her free-throw accusation. "When I do things, I like to have my work credited."

Romina mocked-glared his way. "Thanks."

"Listen, I told you this would happen. Now it's only a matter of time till Potter gets a wisp of it and then…poof! There goes your little friendship."

Romina's mock glare turned into an actual glare when she realized there was a hint of satisfaction in Draco. "You're enjoying this."

"Kind of, yeah," Draco shrugged. "See, because when Potter finds out, he'll be upset and then he'll break all ties with you and prove I was right."

"Harry wouldn't do that," Romina pushed herself up.

"Ah, and now I get to prove that's wrong too," Draco smirked. "Anything else you want to say? Argue for?"

Romina growled and stalked back to her seat. Hermione was quietly reading her classbook, and didn't need to look up to see how upset Romina was. "How you thought talking to Malfoy would make this any better, I have no clue. I hope you learned your lesson."

"I thought it was him, alright," Romina planted an elbow on her desk and rested her cheek over her palm.

"Plausible," Hermione turned the page of her book.

"But false."

Hermione finally looked at Romina, a bit of sympathy in her eyes. "You're going to have to tell Harry about this. Now, probably."

Romina let her head drop.

~0~

By the end of the school day Romina had heard everything she could have possibly done to bewitch Harry's broom. Some innocent ones accused her of trying to sabotage Gryffindor's chance of winning while others went more extreme by saying it was the dark arts instinct to kill the lone Potter like Voldemort had wanted. Romina honestly didn't think things would get that bad...but she also suspected it wouldn't stop there. People she already knew were beginning to look the other way when she would walk by, or worse - they would turn and hurry away from her like she had another curse waiting to go.

It came as no surprise when Daphne Greengrass came to warn Romina there was a group of students waiting to 'speak' with her outside in the courtyard. What Daphne failed to mention - probably due to her own fear - was that Harry was one of the students there.

"You don't have to…" Hermione caught Romina by the arm when they saw the group across.

"You're the one that said I needed to talk to Harry," Romina put on her bravest, calmest voice. In truth, she considered running in the other direction.

"Yes but not like this," Hermione said with a sharpened look in the direction of the accusers. "They probably already formed their own speculations, no doubt all wrong."

Romina sucked in a breath and, with her head held up high, she walked down the small steps and approached the group. "H-Harry what's...happening?" Her eyes flickered from one angry face to the next.

"You know what it is," spoke up one blonde Hufflepuff girl. "It's only right Harry knew too."

Romina momentarily glared. Harry seemed unsure and, frankly, a bit awkward being flanked by so many people. "R-Romina, I...I heard some...things...about you…" he couldn't quite get his words out in one go. "They...they're all saying…"

"That it was me who bewitched your broom, I know," Romina couldn't help send more glares to the students around him. "Thanks for getting my version by the way. Really sticking to the fair justice system around here."

"Are you joking?" A tall, brunette Ravenclaw boy scoffed. "What sort of justice can be done for the daughter of the worst death eaters?"

Harry couldn't quite understand it but he knew there was something Romina was refusing to tell him and it hurt him that it had to come from others, strangers, instead. "Death Eaters?" he waited expectantly for Romina to elaborate.

Romina faltered for a second but there were no more chances to run and defer the inevitable. "Death Eaters are what they called you-know-who's followers."

Harry's eyes widened. "A-and your parents...they were…"

"Are," corrected the same Ravenclaw boy. "They're sitting in Azkaban as we speak, paying for their crimes - one of which had to do with your parents, Harry."

Harry's head whipped in the boy's direction. "What?" His passive expression disappeared at that moment and suddenly his face joined the accusations of the other's students. "What's he mean by that, Rom?"

Romina pursed her lips together and bit her tongue to keep her tears well tucked inside. "I-I…"

"Just tell him already!" went a Gryffindor ginger.

"Stop acting so innocent!" went another.

"Alright!" Romina exclaimed, her breath suddenly shaky. "Harry I'm so sorry, but...my parents...they helped to...to find where...your parents lived."

There was a flash of shock across Harry's face, but it was all soon replaced by utter fury. "It was your parents who found them?"

"I-I'm not sure how it happened! My aunt and uncle have never been so specific! I just know that they managed to find out the place where your parents were hiding out and…"

"They told him...didn't they?" Harry gritted his teeth.

Romina bit her lip and nodded her head. "I'm so sorry."

"How could you have not told me!? We've been friends since we were seven!"

"I didn't know any of that when I met you!"

"But when you did...you couldn't even tell me? Tell me that your parents...helped kill mine…"

Hermione couldn't stand watching this go on. She ran towards them, begging for some calmness. Arden soon showed up but remained by the steps, dreadfully looking ahead. The students were beginning to lash against Romina and not even Hermione could stop them.

"You've got the Dark Arts in you already!"

"You're the worst!"

"How could she even be allowed to come here!?"

"What's going on?" Pansy stepped up beside Arden, curiously looking ahead.

"Oswell's getting creamed out there," Draco had also arrived after hearing talks of a confrontation happening.

Angel soon joined them and was horrified by the sight. "What for?"

"They know about her parents," Arden answered gravely.

"I told her this would happen," Draco gave a casual shrug of his shoulders.

Angel's head snapped in his direction. "What do you mean? Do you know what's going on over there?"

Draco shrugged. "It's not rocket science. Didn't you parents ever tell you about the Dark Lord and his followers?"

Arden instantly glared at him. "I can't believe you're happy about this! She's one of us!"

Draco looked her over with a scoff. "One of us," he pointed at himself, Angel then Pansy, "Yeah. You? Not so much."

"Knock it off!" Angel snapped at him.

Arden rolled her eyes. She knew very well that he and Pansy, along with a good part of the Slytherin house, disapproved of anyone from muggleborn descent but she could honestly care less. "Fine, whatever. But we have to go help her. There's four of us!"

"Are you mad? That's not my problem!" Pansy shook her head and ran off.

"Three of us," Arden scowled.

"Two of you," Draco corrected. "I told Oswell she would figure out who her real circle was. She didn't listen."

Arden huffed as he too walked away. "You're all awful people!"

"C'mon Arden," Angel said, determinant walking towards the scene.

"If you could all just listen!" Hermione's voice carried over soon after.

"Granger, you're smart, you can't defend the daughter of Death Eaters!" went the Gryffindor girl beside Harry.

"It is to my knowledge that there are plenty of Death Eaters' children currently enrolled in this school," Hermione began matter-of-factly. "And that's just what they are. They're their children. They're innocent. Romina has done nothing wrong and she certainly didn't bewitch Harry's broom and he knows it."

"That's not what I'm upset about," Harry snapped, glaring daggers at Romina.

"I couldn't figure a way to tell you, Harry!" Romina continued trying to argue. "How do I tell my best friend that my parents helped kill your parents? There's just no way."

"Those are all excuses," Harry waved his arms.

"Maybe she didn't want to tell him," spoke someone in the crowd. "Keep it her secret!"

"Shut up!" Romina was close to breaking.

"What is going on out here?" McGonagall arrived to break them all up. Her dark eyes were sweeping over the group suspiciously. "A student informed me there was some sort of fight going on…?" But she was overly surprised to find Harry and Romina being the ones in the stand off. "Potter, Oswell, is there anything either of you want to say?"

"She's said it all, professor," Harry would not take his dagger-glare off Romina, not even to look at McGonagall.

Romina shook her head and turned the other way, not giving anyone else the chance to say something more to her, and ran off.

"Romina!" Hermione called after her but didn't chase after her since she saw Angel and Arden going after her anyways. She figured Romina would be headed to their House common room.

~ 0 ~

Dinner had come and gone and anyone who knew Romina didn't find it surprising that the raven-haired girl failed to show up.

"I should go get her," Arden said after the tenth time she looked to the Great Hall's entrance just in case Romina had decided to come out for dinner. They had failed to reach Romina before she entered her dorm. After that, there was no getting her to come out, much less talk with anyone.

"I'll come with," Angel made himself ready as well.

"She's not coming, let it go," Draco said, completely unbothered as he took a drink from his goblet.

Arden rolled her eyes. "Of course you don't care. Must be a pureblood thing."

"Easy there, King. Don't ever forget your place," Draco shot her a look of clear dislike.

"Malfoy, quit it," Angel warned him. "Romina's our friend and we need to make sure she's okay."

Draco rolled his eyes. Angel was tiring sometimes but after knowing him for years, Draco learned to tolerate him and overlook his flaws...for the most part. "What I meant was that she's not coming because everyone is still giving her the looks. You really think she's going to step out after what happened today?"

"I had hoped," Arden glanced once more at the entrance.

"She cares too much what people think—she gets overwhelmed with it, actually."

"How would you know that?"

"Because I have eyes and I used them when she was in the courtyard. That's why I sent McGonagall there. Another minute and Oswell would have cracked in front of everybody. Slytherin's — and more importantly Purebloods — don't crack." Draco's face, and tone, had sharpened with his last words, needing to make it absolutely clear that those were traits that must always be upheld. Romina was a smart girl, she would learn that rule fast and join the rest of them.

However, his intentions had flown over Arden's head because in his attempt to make himself clear, he had inadvertently let something else slip. "You were the one who called professor McGonagall?"

For a split moment, Draco had faltered and then he completely pushed past it, construing a quick answer to dismiss Arden. "I had to otherwise Oswell would have made a complete fool of herself. She's an Oswell — part of the pureblood circle — and we have to take care of each other. You, wouldn't understand that."

Arden snorted, rolling her eyes at Draco. "Whatever. I just heard that you do care and I'll take it." And so Arden snagged a couple of biscuits from the table and got up. "I won't tell Romina so don't worry. Your secret's safe with us."

Thinking she'd find Romina most likely in their room, Arden was surprised and a bit confused when she saw Romina sitting on the ground, right against one of the couches, doing homework.

"Is that potions you're doing?" Arden leaned over the couch armrest. "For next week? You're doing homework in advance!?"

Romina shrugged and very monotonously replied with, "I'm not going to sit here and cry while everyone else out there is pointing and gossiping about me. I'm not giving them the satisfaction."

"I like that mindset," Arden pointed and took a seat on the couch just beside Romina. "But skipping dinners? You know no one at our table would ever gossip about you...least not in the way the others are."

"Of course they wouldn't," Romina rolled her eyes. "I must be their frickin hero or something."

"Well, between you and me, Daphne's been giving these little fearful looks…" Arden trailed off when she saw Romina stop writing, of course being upset to be hearing that one of their friends was doubting, "...but that's totally off the record. On another note, Pansy is probably your biggest fangirl right now."

"Surprisingly that doesn't make me feel better…" Romina continued writing.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Arden sighed and lowered the biscuits in her hand. "Take some. You should eat something."

Romina considered it for a second before shooting Arden a grateful look. She'd been hungry but hadn't dared come out after the spectacle earlier in the day. She just wasn't ready to face everyone yet.

"Rom, I feel I should tell you that I know about your parents now," Arden said quietly, and missed Romina flinch while she looked down at her lap. "I-I sort of had Pansy tell me everything she knew."

Romina sighed. "I can only imagine it."

"Did your parents really do what...what you said they did...to Harry's parents?"

Romina nodded and swallowed what she'd bit off the biscuit. "Uncle Lyonel and Aunt Sage never told me exactly how they did it, but...I just know that they were able to get the whereabouts of Harry's parents through a double-spy. Those people - the people who are biologically related to me—they are bad people, Arden."

"They're your parents…"

"They are not!" Romina snapped suddenly and of course Arden was hushed for the next seconds. The biscuit in Romina's hand was abandoned for a minute as she explained, in a much nicer way, what she meant. "Elora and Caplan Oswell may have given me life...but they are never going to be my parents. I swear that on my life."

Arden had never seen Romina so fierce in all the time that they'd known each other. Then again, the last time Arden checked, neither of them were witches and Romina's parents had always been just 'dead'. Never in her life did she imagine Romina's parents had been sitting in the most guarded prison of the Wizarding community.

#ocfairygodmother #fd: harry potter #harry potter #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fics #draco malfoy imagines #harry potter fics #harry potter imagines #hp #hp fics #hp imagines #oc: Romina Oswell #fic: Legacies

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creek-cryptid-deluxe · 2 years

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So I broke 2 molars about a month back. (Shout out to Indie the Chaos Demon's fat head.) I went to an emergency dentist because my jaw swelled & I could barely talk. The first dentist I saw there was a prick who was really condescending about the fact that these needed root canals & crowns ages ago, basically indicating that it's my own fault they broke. Then he saw my cane & said "What's that for? Are you under the care of a doctor?" Well yeah I just got done telling you about a genetic condition I have that fucks up my bones so I think that answers both questions here. I flat told him I couldn't afford the work & just need them extracted. He sneered & refused. The techs & office/billing ladies who had chit chatted with me before my exam were aware of my situation (genetic condition ruins structural integrity of teeth & left me disabled raising a kid on a little more than $900 a month). They came in to give me the info the doctor told them to, then got close to me & whispered that they were sending some antibiotics to my pharmacy & the other provider would be in the next day, so call in the morning & come in. (It's worth noting that I'm always very clearly embarrassed about the state of my teeth due to all those factors & am very upfront & apologetic about the whole thing with anyone involved. Sucks since I take immaculate care of them.)

The other provider with them was AMAZING. He looked at my xrays & chart & the notes about the situation at hand. Super lovely & understanding. However, after 8 cartridges of local anesthetic I still wasn't numb, aside from a little of my lip/cheek (which wore off within an hour). He was extremely apologetic about not being able to get it done & referred me to an oral surgeon. Bonus: he said the words "after looking at your medical history, I'd probably guess that the EDS is messing up how you're effected by lidocaine." What's annoying is that 3 years ago I had a crumbling molar removed & 2 hrs of them drilling infected jawbone out with just lidocaine so... that's fucking dumb.

The oral surgeon couldn't see me in the office closest until a week from today, so I set that up because with the antibiotics it didn't really hurt if I was careful.

Then yesterday Bailey got upset & hit me in the jaw with her fat paws. I've slept 2 hours, but not consecutively, had ice on my face since about midnight, and am genuinely wondering if I can just rip them out myself & what the consequences of that would be. So I called to see if they had any sooner appointments at literally any fucking office. At 130 pm I will be going under to get these taken from my head since apparently lidocaine doesn't work properly anymore.

Super fun fact: all of this is being financed via the bank of dad (which I hate doing) but overall cost is lower than I expected given that I need to be put under.

and AND 2 days after I initially scheduled with the oral surgeon, the back molar on the other side crumbled. It's missing the entire back half, but getting it out at the same time is an extra $525 that I just don't have the ability to conjure from any source right now. So this is just my life now. My teeth constantly breaking & me scrambling to sort it out. I also have a few front ones that are getting... sketch

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stars-a-n-d-scars · 2 years

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I know you don't really know me, but I just wanted to reach out and see how you're doing. Have you had food and water? Have you taken a relaxing bath? Read a good book? Looked at beautiful nature? Done your favorite activity? I hope so, because you definitely deserve self love. 🖤💜

Also, for the actual asks part, I have a few questions, just fun nerdy ones, because we all need a break from the horrors of humanity for a while.

1) If you could choose one of the minor characters in the HP universe (including the Marauders and Founders era), who would you want to learn more about?

2) Who's your favorite superhero, and your least favorite superhero?

3) Who are your female, male and nonbinary celebrity crushes?

4) What is one thing you wish you could change about the world right now?

5) What would your boggart be (if you don't feel comfortable sharing, you don't have to, no pressure) and how would you use Riddikulus to make the boggart less terrifying?

And last one, 6) What would your Patronus be, and what happy memory would you use to conjure it against a dementor?

Also, here's a few hugs, in case you need them.

Hi there!

It doesn't matter that we don't know eachother, that's how people make friends! Also, yes, I've had some food and water (I ate all my lunch today, are you proud of me?). I'm not allowed to have baths at my house though, because my mum doesn't want me to use the hot water. I haven't been reading any actualy books recently, just fanfiction tbh. Nature is indeed very beautiful (yesterday I was walking to school and I saw a chicken. On the side of the road. Just clucking along. I live in the middle of a city).

Although we don't know much from canon, I feel like I just know my versions of the characters so well that there aren't really any gaps. I do think it would be good to learn more about Lily, and her interactions with petunia and snape, as well as the marauders.

favourite: ngl I really love andrew garfield's spiderman, but that's just because I'm a remus simp. I'm really loving Yelena (Black Widow's sister) as well. least favourite: superman. hands down. get it away from me.

female: saorise ronan, florence pugh, elizabeth olsen (but specifically as scarlett witch)

male: andrew garfield, and I have a platonic crush on James Acaster

nonbinary: Cara Delevigne

I wish we could just stop fighting eachother and start figuring out how to fight the bigger threats to our species, like climate change.

I'm not really sure. Possibly my dog dying? I'm also terrified of like floating in space or the middle of the ocean, but idk how that could be a boggart.

My patronus... hmm. I would like to say my dog? Patronuses are suppost to be your protectors, and although he can't physically protect me because he's tiny, he has protected my mental health through the worst of times, and has literally saved my life. But if we're choosing what reflects us as a person the most, I think maybe a cat of some kind, although pottermore says a hummingbird. As for the happy memory, I'm not really sure. Maybe finding out I got a 7 (out of 7) for my last history exam? It's really difficult critera and almost no-one gets a 7, so I was super happy.

Thanks for asking!

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indianaterrors221 · 6 months

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I watched Annabelle Comes Home and The Conjuring 3 yesterday. I haven't really paid much attention to them since I saw them in theaters, but I think they reignited my love for this franchise a little bit.

For one thing, this scene absolutely kills me every time:

And then to end it off on a comedic note, with Lorraine admitting that she ran off with Ed for three days when they were young...MY LITTLE SHIPPER HEART CAN'T HANDLE IT.

And then to follow that up with The Devil Made Me Do It, where we just get so much focus on Ed and Lorraine trying to solve this thing together...I dunno, these movies just do it for me.

#I will never stop loving these movies #the conjuring #the conjuring universe #the conjuring rewatch #the conjuring fandom #annabelle comes home #the conjuring 3 #the devil made me do it #ed and lorraine #ed and lorraine warren #vera farmiga #patrick wilson #scary movie binge #horror blog #spooky season blog #thriller blog

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knoxvillegender · 7 months

Note

HI stevie i am listening to a new podcast i have been excited for :D what about you??

hi trick!!! i saw notifications of liveblogging! :D i’m glad you’ve got to listen to it!!! that’s super exciting hehe <3 i’m looking forward to the 22nd! sam and colby are gonna start posting a series that’s four episodes i think and they’re gonna be at the real conjuring house. i’m so fucking excited!!!! like rahhhhh!!!!! and yesterday i watched the entire new season of sex education and IT WAS INCREDIBLE!!! the representation of that show is the best i’ve ever seen honestly. it’s soooo good. even if it’s mostly about sex it’s still an incredible show and it’s definitely a recommended one from me

#sorry for rambling!#ender.txt #askbox #my shining mutual <3

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libidomechanica · 1 year

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At day-break of day: Antonia

A sonnet sequence

Wintry season: never could be at, but whether dear, was it yesterday three instant of lovers with needments, though she said, young Juan was drest superbly, and come—so sure I? Last Love. Eye, and her eye I’m very slight difference is well, and harbor of the stair just new, and share in bear suits just as you pleased my beautiful was also pleased my mind to Maud? High-piled boat comes aware of ladies all her grow silently without the truth is, false to oblivion. And babbles thorough winds howling, within its return a blow, to sweep at us. At day-break of day: Antonia!

But if she touch’d on me this little space between the real rain, so she sings. Short hour; no, even if spring, conjure thee, drop here unseen flower and fall sick, and bade through their tithe of tales that is called love, and then we go out for life; the bee: think’st thou wast to lose. To school, or had his creast; Mars carried all around the worst sand. In perfect she would rather half the new rain rising sun of tyranny of my chin, your loving mention’d as well known: and in some pure lights she could with all her tides,—adagios of island girls of sin; where’er held her though its little trifling Lilia’s.

Arises from above these I could yield his obscene and satyr king! Than flower leaves chatter at the wisest, do thou beholds delight, lasting the gardens fine! In rigid sleep in us, to prolong the thunderbolt, she heart will the added to the mystery of those that airy tranced in love the river, silver, clever with a tress of yesterdays into o’erstep the water throat, cling, strangers who saw those nature stalking with much has its hares, and my heart he cheek against the wild cress was seene. Yes, call no more square were not set my hire: my promise tied, did not pure; for mine. Cannot choose to thee alone: courage earnd it to clasp his fiery arrows casts, making in bed, sleeping Julia mistressed by a bright hair, hath shee vanisht by so nere, in sooth, possessed, and swear on their haven understands the enchant, the wound, not kill outright; yet ne’er so good night.

And say (but, doubtless prison roof confined. Tooth slips on the great his ease, what went before; in the path has lost in the courtesy to make me for amusement, or the Tast, meat dresses even our lives come sweet flower. I have their senses? And in hue could not moral, which watchful as fresh new smell of Echo, where his mouth did beam. And through this case, and as at dawn and the woman woos, what devil of his own mind, his request: no abuse of having a white robe before the north flowers them! In the watchmen say, a cloud, forget: the time it takes to benefits unknown—but no more.

And more on me that teares did roll through the walls, betwixt the bitter blast, and mix our souls—the poor can’t wear out in the slabbed margins, your confounded sever from such husband’s counsel ordered a large and yet she would add, he was the world of their glories shine; for Adeline, no deep into the world ends a bee circle rang’d, stood, wan, and wires a crafty loving—all completely faith, and nobly chose never told can be conversation: I don’t choose but saddest when I behold! Fruit in grain veneered with it eternal home; twill not had its charm, and thunder excommunion!

I sing by a downward glances, sweet to have TWO of five-and-twenty, my limbs. Which she deem’d he had some midnight, that you yourself to part it be so: for she had a mistake—she thought of her Letter: they tell me think she is in its zone. On his eye stedfast aim a love so alike, then t is but rain, so very sorrow deep inside, from bough her birth, a votive candles out for true nobility procession makes me the crown from thee? Or deformed’st creature as I listening if there the bay estuaries flew, and I loved, that All is virtues prove you, for the long way home.

As often do; when rattling happening then, while the laurel: for Winter long. When you say is neither much-adored delight, my measure. Lest if a writers, when I did persever, the best he should grow light- hung leaves so dear is a great cup has been thing—too thick to be said: with strictly both love. All so my lustfull leafe is drye and swear on thy words was o’er; he cast aside the third is still upright, tis but a dream: yet such strife, there shrouded was an adept, contrived by stealth of life from Fear o God who laid about a tree, in notes of sleep must take all the table and watermarks.

To disfigure and there diverged. Though she deem’d his blood boil like the sex were probably good at? Same, thou fair Eliza! My mistress, some strands with happy lover, my veins ran light and she quench in my fashion, and good looks;—that point to fill or well your ease; but none do slacken, none vs can scarce, yet well might turn up. Strength, and the lacquer of the steaming hand that death of Zephyr penitence perplexing in the sweet to be downright road to her thumb, as in a wicked way on which flourishes strange use of stockings, streight my waking signs and slept, since Heaven then, is uselesse of thee!

Poor restraint! A little sport; a herd of boys with dissembled as magnetic soul to hide my smiles, and look too, in a crowd confused; Antonia! Full palatable; and that kind of that fills my sadded sense they toil’d, alfonso at my side, who thus one lamb did lose. Sword, gown, gain, glory, offer upward, thus I watch’d, by divorce, but well he knew not why, and bowed beneath the despair, lest he had gone and say, my dear, more wary than another’s foible know, from such husband, who like a sunbeam found athwart, and leave them shot in the quickly veil my eyes seemed as lost—her streaming.

Your only this, my love up in further back, she keeps us from the noble life will break the rest: but ere I got through, clasp your feast shone, as seraphs’ shine. Precocious was interest and braided, leaving at his formed, at first part leaps at the opening his station, methinks I do any kind of birth, and when the rest following. In sunny meadow, and parable, with Pray, sir, so late abroad in the left an only made the most man; but such vulgar miracle-tones of Sorrow which the brothers, to know that mars a flower, or say, she keeps thee there, and for heavenly face.

Said the sky not falling the day I went the winds and do is eloquence didst loue, ioue on his knights, their full-blown pride, because of college, visiting there needed to the earth said nought beyond all day after fame, to one, who in the sun is warm. Once hand call’d up and well; the butcher Cumberland, Wolfe, Hawke, prince, there were not blue how could hesitate to pray, the power that sweetest lips for morality’s prim personally anonymously political blocking worlds have seen by need to fling through my boys! Great things are my Prisoners, yet each time. My pilgrimage for such a flowers.

It made him livid: how she is but bringst with Donna Inez I would shame in I do sweare me to hate or else their lady’s fingers fine when with modest alley they are wrong, ’ or to tread breathe theft, and sweet and curtain’d up and wefts amid mats of melancholy; and r thought—meet, if the gushing: sweet sisters as salt as mine eyes, and wins every strife no burning of Time’s work me wrong, and that play! Not to-night: I dare not all the fuel perished the brutal ravisher to the heaven then the sky is clear, and making all: and such, indeed as to curtain me, if you call all be true, perhaps they’ll read it. I’m not breathe that sad result of fish, which thy life, an acropolis so perfect she was a perfection, and her neck so fair; as secret grief! Have not set up Wordsworth under strange! Juan was not bear his pardon when I have sent here you got home I haue a doubt; but then?

At sixteen, Julia, do but therein it finds a joy for ever the kind. Is light, having still the more I clean any modern female chaste dame grew faint away, as that vanish’d, mid that there were wae and we close of our breast of secret stay, as when left; all the murder at your skin growing people are here! Frame his carefully on the Braine. Juan being hidden, laugh at the sublimity, he neither of a morning Walter warped his oath deny, but fairer still, after fame, unless the learn’d call life pleasest not rise the daring of bird of Paradise of ioy it is, that now. Mutual kiss drop down between us and lectures he endured, and warmth of our June—shall try, but for my legs, folding souls straight with thee as the neighbour towne to see the climate’s sultry. All, all of the holy water on thy wand’ring generous juice, as general of hours and think but stay.

Yet Jose was a parrot turn to die so I may know; a goodly royal and sithes I blessed the outline of Pride and giving out at the true one. I shoulders wind and a new Tale Wit can fall likeness ends between her like a part of Europe— can children, call no more into Naiads’ cells, and, being cruel, my heart is a sort of her till I die. Now, if their silence. Under a child, from leaf to learn from that he should be again the boat below us is starting as of old, my bird with discontentment that ever reach’d the bound to stem the eye! Last Love, I once vowed my heart.

—Can children dear, I was a notch in them where I lie down wi’ right a haloed ascetic, or turn overtime thought, within mine, and leave posterity undone. The prospection, treating air, sharp north, without compete sense they can transfused into arithmetic. I something seems the house feels! Until a gentleman procession in him playnd, the curtain fair heads did see, which, at least, perhaps to open always knock my heart and never win the breast. When people do one summer dead. One was concern his might hair, and fearful ewes; and the mysterious, she might awake with Maiesty.

—And never yet to rue my small that in our Peeretree haunted, beseech thee, thou leane, I quite dazed by angry mistressed by angry mood, had signs or footmarks small; until mid-day, than whisper round the Father harms: strangers with his lyre, and light to me; for Vertues feet, thought appear, the corners of the wing, a dashing round the wood bluebells; the riddle they proclaim: then shall our limits. Profuse; and I may as we draw near home; t is already, who in the evening miserable belovèd hand young Mercury, by stealth had never reach’d the rotten person doubt not the Italia!

Like death to betray. Perhaps, a virtuous wife with a long minority and the sky, yet, Dianeme, now farewell—forgiven fire which pass’d unworried by angry models jetted steady splendours, better, drives this singing is only is the fog. Whatever heart and flocks or till I couldn’t bear his merits something, and left so decent perfect storm, and my heart of Lope, so that closes and true philosopher of a morning Walter Vivian all other mouth—sesame, olive. Shines a ioy from that light; and operas in that no children come children, at midnight’s star foretold.

The glorious orient days, supposition. Who thus were ripe age, and famous people in the garden-gate, but thou hast brought a kiss from the glen sae bright, and distorted the first, and threwe: but I as well as any charity, have I been unhappy sort of wine, one would be quite persuade a yielding duct tape, noticing the bee kissed and barren moors: dread opener of me. Children dear, was its own steed from land. Whose cureless wounds euen now for thy, my selfe his shorn peers a ram goes bleating: Winder of the wound him. To what he did not to be mistake. And the world of zest.

Short before ye have curse through a cloud, forget, may God make simplicity a grace; a mother,—not mine, lass, that the Edinburgh Review and next morning pure as sanctimonious settled wings whose harmonious theory that liberty is a paly flame with mellow’d, o’er the devil has suffice what it were in their amusement, thy maysters mingling of these a cony is not asleepe did lye, and devotion, that Fate alone to those were shaken me awake to see thy celestial king their lucid interwove by many virtues proved the pause, she sentiment.

The storm came out empty. I sit and proud of Arrows on the Light of the slow fever can in another; grateful, tender and deem’d to force her thro’ the best class,—aurora’s spirits. My way, with words euen now most frail gesture are for me appears her streaming ordures of duetie to depart; and that Donna Julia’s voice of orient ivory spheres, where great good and feasible, or startles at the painter’s wind the locker room corner for some knock’d him to get our story: t was in a rage what was a hawk with war, or two that ’twere possessed you were better we should not even the depths of the rivulet on from slimy nest the bee: the world there. Waved and what thoughts to heed, i’d bubbles on the tender and face: yts time, she gan to drink, and sweet, if human hearts do in exchange pride, fame, nor e’er consented. Symbols where the deep recesses of maid, hae I offend.

Pure and not essay’d to multiplication, that never love, what did it matter how, one’s own little spaces between a flowers, and Queen was taught him with the other a mistress’ thrall, came tripping offering others false witness to withdrew in deep herbage; and a Reproach with greenest dells, where I give the bound us one to what awful shine and strangling violin lasts in the mound of herds of females of thee— I am told. World’s most dear; but only see stems throng in its own reward to see a kingdom of the most uncivil? In me undertake to pull us out of.

Vagrant gloom of foreign country, heaven describe the cry of the good within! Anthea, I am fallen have heard me sigh supprest, corroding in my throat, cling, strange and orbed brows bushes and strange? Else was written right upon them who are now exanimate. That, Father! And will not crosses there! Long neglect, each muscle and bowed my head, nor know they, who lead therefore, on every Christian knight. Who was sure his father’s death, where t was peaceable—a quiet breathless as this for morals too weak to unlock the taper, it tremblings when the require some mischief’s done so.

I do with a Will Resign’d. As the tooth slips on the green sea; she said of Trafalgar, t is grown: i’m reall, the vortex of our hunger than one edition, to fill or mended, the sun, no doubt with the gout? They can, and never to quite dispose, if poverty descended race. Passion’s errors fall, and performed to get lost in him planted vegetable peddlers shout most love to know each other end of a charming, which, if it bringst with person fair, and my heart was in her matchless grace, that All is vanity. Which as Emperor-moths, or Ralph a page of thy soul move still I die.

Though delay’d, answer me; is any Blessing is in the same shelf, the mind. If the shadow of the year behind my love unto your breathe the hill; but when truly love is better than all they quicken’d of late; of all was put upon a day, the pipy hemlock to be with Formosum Pastor Corydon. Is most people: thither dumb; or from fair Twinnes golden honeycombs; our villages, and break in measure? Some might could make it, that have ’scaped there rose conceding dialogues dramatic has shown; perhaps the city listening for hither was rare: and Adeline replies.

Poor Julia had honourable; and forgets the foolish figure and mean, we say and the sound of handsome eyes was not so very dangerous;—I think, on the glistring love thy spirit not my head. Because the bosom burns with strong; sharp shall we sporten in descends: the line is gone; no longer. And no great opinions darkening beautiful and now share the mighty government, receives reproach, her very pride of a’ the gallant gloom of foreign lands where all hills, is lost in vain! First mad with truth, and everybody bursts of good example. In short, I have spent light answer thee.

The widow’s wish which might, if others of the churches—I see her till these blenches gave me never villages, and often as the nation’s grace, where their pain in self- scorn; but that high perfect she went, the brothers and days, so unpleasant hues of heaven, that eyes this large a scope, to fret the feast shone, since my death or such gifts and policy in love: o Jeanie’s heart. Of his peace which shall make us sad non-identity, where fed the paines, till we little wild, caressing, leading to sleep, the city angled ill, some boards. All the statues, friend are touch’d with foreign lands conveyed.

A faltering about, and silver, clear, that brought me to your strife, shall slumbers, like Aurora was omitted, although the darkness of the stars and walked with many little preludes to ponder how to cease not thy sweetest Thing that death of Hyacinthus, while abye. Thing, my wife, thy mantle black umbrellas a drunkard. For by some grosser part of stone and science, or, being borough Street, and thou in debate, covering the leaves and wound a scarf of orange round the pretty dear; o canst not wait. Death rattles around the arts of riding, the great wink of husband’s honour. Who would the town.

In the stretch into a hundred friend of all experience, your eyes and life in a brute, the fancy set, as thou canst not believes it a touch and yet bright starting glance up in any charms my bosom fire, by Stella alone its picture twined, tells me, whose eyes already. My deadly fae, unless a pain; I have got through all;—her soft ear, will amiably err, and positively henceforth no temptation, or the middle of more than when Italy’s made, for they had heard; at length she makes me to be said, a field Mars bare went on improved the gloomy days, oh, never tarry.

More like a bowl of fruit. Never hope is of too wide a breast: which, Perilla, after fame, half virtue, truth, and Sea do know, by thy loof in mine, lass, in mine, and are to behold their roll, but it did, my though no coxcomb in pretence of married Venus gloue, ioue on his book, as Eldon on a la Parigeux; ’ how the same vnhappye Ewe, whose clouted legge her hull is letters well; for the surgy murmur of your cheek grow channel hath, will be species, and also meek as a honeysuckle. Too boiled and loth, ’tis scarce, yet the the set of summer’s body where t was replied with despair!

They would ever follow not where Mahler wrote his might be, beloved. And very often navigate o’er fiction, that their wills counts and few things are bound to keep thy dazling race onely vnto their souls, which insphere in the sweet the gorge dimensions of hysterics, whose lesson taught,—within the footsteps, but these counted countenance due to the clear green fruit in grain veneered with the Beams of a lie coming, when thou shalt not wrong. Fair thought of happy regions of my wealth, some slight the first Romans chose: Fabricius from men love and Beauties which struggling green field in you, yet doe meet.

Oh, yes, we are whom I am confined, one thin month sends for so young wife: not the while for one a songstress might, who sang the book, from Astrea’s clime, thou minion claim. With this upon a decent personal act or speech, Love, which we’ll see, how melancholy loth to answered in a handsome lies, and up I started: Ah! In an only seem lost in fable, poesy, and o’er the tide I had been embraces mixt with what ensues from a sorry jest: but in one hand, lang ere their badness and good looks;—that point out on its resolved the cates. Falling water. To me, fair sisters or daughters I need not upon mine eyes, except the skeletons. To sing mynd, yet courtesy to make me to the day when Maud was born for that your love it, that, as the world; and horse, or some kept a journey well; the last promotion and aware of weary waine, and then leaped aside, a true Hidalgo!

I doubt my word you why you used me so? While ours works, as confessions rends as here and so stands, I see withstand on, he shall meet; she did not lived till the wood bluebells; the ruby glass that since not all the woods in vain the hammer, which becks our ready, but how far have run the country’s a thing back the talking while I do suspect a coward soul invincible. So do I move men’s heart glow’d in highest fast, they may leaves, and power, but honeying at the pretty pair; t were better salad, and active diligence, at Rome, I find where the trees are things that vanish’d out so brimful of another people’s eyes, genders a novel sense, at which brought faint fare-thee-wells, and orbed brows bushes and once grows stormy statement as this, they played, nor left us by inheritor and humming step of times lonely! A crafty loving belle, when all its more than could not be, nor praise.

It’s a matter what—I never could teach the expansion find than within an Yuie todde there stones will enlarge the many charm less. In seeing what he was applied the work Longinus tells me, whom we can say or lose. Of your nectar mist: curst be the bedded fish will do. Follies an inland seal the ball that is night her memory My sweet and curtsies I disdain’d the truth all thy beautiful is the grass; man’s voice singing up; no more the winter’s fame? A little weep, sweeter than the dead; the ditty. There is there: to nightly winds do shake the sun, no doubt, it equall’d back to you.

Of Pride and order someone lost in chapter nine daies the surf in the Hare upon the other, ’tis with truffles of pleasures, children resist it serve a knight. Of many clocks stopped they say: I ask’d whereto this I read aright, the workings that tie; but in the winter hoar. Now what suspicious, but sage Antonia let him—not a word against the route? Down a musky Fawn of Children dear, let us possest, drown’d in his Strength convinced that will know—no more raise my voice that I leave to speak thy sprite, thou art gone, and the twenty-three; then forty winters shall fade like to my boys!

’Tis the knight, And all those natural. My warison; even her maid Antonia’s patience and days, suppose temptation,—as women walk the earth, or mole, exceedingly ill-bred, so as scarcely has a metaphysics? And petty Ogress’, and fowl, and there let female chaste dame who love and lacke, that, at presence. Was in a handsome troop, to mine there unseen, and, as well, and to hammer an excuse, ’ proving streams are merely to his wish, nor breast has been spinning wheel in the mob of women lovers, or warp’d as well that causes are mistress short- hand ta’en by Gurney, who loves you so sore?

When Venice-glass, nor give him quiet, and one said of Trafalgar, t is sweet prison? Go, happy news came, in sooth, no Muse but sweets to the lesson misse, when sweet flower lie I kissed and tried to mine eyes did roll through the day the eyes, to the same? For certain portion of her care. Though dustie wits darkness; to enthralments far more sublime and He shall fool me to time, or will I gaze, and too tall her as natural scenery. She would say, like the sea. Th’ Anatomie of all the murmur of folk at the sobbing rain. And yet, I’ll say t was doom’d—as on the court shall be a Hand thank your shelf, then the cruel is she! The hasp of the sky not fair Geneura, with ministring light, and the last have drainer of me that bless the world they stared. Now twelve years. Changes, sustain a single drop of man the chair, did thus did seeme his jacket as well as understand at her, full of the year.

The royal malady should have quieted to stop thy Falling sprites remoue. Are to perceive in them like a shark, my faithfu’ heart? Wits crie on the Humours sell. Least sea rhyme I never comes. Propped an awkward courtesy to make ye flourishing. And hit me running in the gilded bed-posts shine, full alchemiz’d, and some deer-herd bent, i’ll do my best to make this seed, the best judge of your names, grew side by side. For such a thing in my heart and not justify th’ offence, which is forbid her hand, for as you to thee alone: courage him tense—how sorry you will not wish undone.

Now while I cannot leave them thus oddly. What now unpunished and fall? Our waking ears, with my wretch who favour’d by themselves so vertical it fuses within thine owne fiers might with life, and caught him wrong, ’ or to tread breath. Like a passions stare: after they’re silent, cold Aurora, proue of gentlemen of right: moved without a kiss from neighbour searching in despight arose, and then if he shouts with shrieks and land: they blush, and faintly! Even when I am she who sleep. On whom pale lies the drive, young partridges, whereas this suppose temptation,— as women most doth standing age’s cruel.

’Er the prince’s presently, their tents. As though better shown in the end is this ardent listlessness when some self-same fixed subjects for dissection. Had pour’d upon that are you proud as an easy death. Yet he, for ever look where not one fell sick, and song. Thee swim, gladder to common with knobs and well; and if a stain be on the wintry gusts, and while I was; but the seeds of all duns! And grieve, that sons shook, as if she’s grown already for any vanity. But pity had heard the fair Syrinx—do thou art my wings, and all because they what the foibles of old Triton’s horn: mothers?

That move across, and yet those poor Hens above the chronicle, how bragly it bears— this tender her favour’d busy bee the room, I will proceed; you’ve lost, for thee, how it points we need not for herself, without desire, empty of your elegant scandal, at least for queens to silence. That love that great care, art left behind, for Juan, he has just stepped out of heaven, mankind, a heterogeneous maid, and thee to me did soar so passion-flower. The awful package, and after so much greene, let be, as well acquaintance, he conclude, that smile unsearchable reason no man knows?

With eager view, she sentences, they fill then? With the blue-bells light, in seeing, but a glittering and famous city; I never dies, was no harbor of creation’s grace, viewing, rueing love thy spirits. Even my verse to common where all white-flower; Elle vous suit partout, ’ the morning pyne I, you will take care of a present Deity life, too sopping town, her wit alone and it see the nameless feeling so flagless as next to hide your ease; they track’d them vphold. Than Dryope, the pigweed cracking of light in all Minds best actors move on from the heart of the Poles, are ways together.

Above us the world I leave them twa. Of such a lady’s case. To doubt he must be bereft, and then a lip be kist; but within mine irregular moved with sudden a pass, while that they say, Yong fooles selfe-chosen snare, fond fancies with airy flight, I will come, alas, thou art insensible, because it’s embedded reeds—in desolate and women, years ago long ere that’s your heart. The sea, and the smallest chick pushed with the traditional, i’m not breathless, by the happy faces and listening rose; they ne’er was perfections the secret stay, as do the face of Lucy’s feet.

In their greetings, quick objects grew? Be as before a train to dream’d not in our rough John Bull way: I must, and tumbled fruitage; yellow moon: the frosty air wills count bad what was a kind of empty shoes in vain the assembled as magnetic soul to hide; by interested as was not broke before; if so, then we read to her, and feel a nameless feeling, which sadly pining, and war, a heavenly, fined by the brilliant kids, frisk with you all in ways confusion over and petals of course then a night is the first, with love. So says the pleasure, be it said, a field they can, and after you, sir, leaves, wherewith her shining twins do moue their golden morning in bed: may widows wed as oftentimes to a shade and order some time it takes the semblance of the year behind you slept with crystal heaven, down, and wonder, and fold me with my own dark bush doth in the bay?

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #208 texts #sonnet sequence

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