#Getting there with drafts thanks for being patient people <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[tvrningout-a]

good evening dash!! i feel more like myself and ofc my first instinct is to write angst so :' )

[churipu]

THE MOMENT THEY REALIZE THEY'RE IN LOVE ִ ࣪𖤐

featuring. gojo satoru, sukuna ryomen, itadori yuuji, toji fushiguro x reader

warnings. cursing, college! au, toji being a single father during his second term of uni (i searched that most japanese college uses 2 terms or trimester system / 3 terms, 1 term of uni in japan is around 15 weeks apparently) -> please tell me if i get this wrong.

note. omg, for the anons who have sent in requests to me, i apologize if these came out before your requests did, i'm trying to empty out my drafts :( but pls note that i am not ignoring your requests at all, it will be written, i promise <;33

GOJO SATORU

when he finds himself checking his phone countless of times, waiting for your message

i promise you, you both started out as work partners in one of your lectures. the two of you were complete strangers to each other — he doesn't know you, and you don't know him. but, either way, the two of you had to get to know each other because this was a crucial grade to pass this lecture.

gojo never thought about having feelings towards you, his work partner. he thought to himself, he'd just get this work done, pass this lecture, and never see you again.

but fate is a funny thing.

the way you made him feel like he wasn't just special because of his face, but his heart too. whereas most people in campus would consider him the pretty boy who could go head-to-head with the hottest celebrities — they just think of him as a pretty boy. and gojo would just go along with them, he gets used to it.

but you? you didn't consider him special at all. although, you did make him feel special the way other people can't.

gojo deep down, knows he was fucked up the moment he finds himself checking his phone to see if you'd reply to his messages, and when you do, he gets so happy. gojo was never a fast responder to everyone — because he practically receives the same kind of messages, "gojo hang out with us", "gojo go out with me", "gojo i like you".

but with you? he won't waste a second at all. even if sometimes you didn't reply as fast as he does, because you are a busy person in campus. you'll work on that after you both started dating, i promise.

SUKUNA RYOMEN

when you stood up for him when nobody would.

sukuna, how do i say this? not everyone is fond of him, people are scared of him — they talk shit behind his back, and don't dare to approach him. people dreaded when they have to be in the same group with him, despite the fact that he actually works; they still think he's a bad person.

"you guys are talking shit to a person who's in our group, if you want to say something to him, have the balls to say it to his face. and while he's here, why don't you tell him about it?" you tell the two people who were sitting beside you, who had been talking in whispers about how they were unlucky to be grouped up with sukuna.

and sukuna? he could honestly care less, he'd gotten used to those kind of things anyway. but when you actually stood up for him, he could only look at you with an amused smile.

he's definitely curious about you after that day — he has pride. and he'd never admit that he's actually pretty thankful that you, the first person to stand up for him, actually did what you did. because now people are a little terrified of being told off by you.

sukuna finally sucks it up at the end of the semester and tries to talk to you. yes, it took him the whole semester to talk to you, asking you for your number, and then thanking you for what you did because nobody has ever done that before to him.

ITADORI YUUJI

when you went all out to tutor him so he'd pass his lectures, teaching him patiently when he doesn't understand something.

yuuji hates studying. and when his lecturer asked you to tutor him, he feels extremely bad for you — he feels that he'd just going to waste your time tutoring him, when he knows that he's going to fail this one subject.

but when you reassured him, and encouraged him. saying that you will do anything to teach him so that he could pass, he gets a little emotional at the thought. you both were just mere classmates, and he barely knows you, vice versa.

when he doesn't understand a topic, he gets so frustrated at himself for not being able to understand it. but you, you were very patient with the male, reassuring him that you had the time to teach him over so that he will be able to understand the said topic.

and when he does finally understand, he gets so happy. he started looking forwards to your tutoring sessions, and like everyone said: if you enjoy something, it passes by quickly. and it's true, yuuji feels like time went by in a flash, and the exams soon started.

he passed with flying colors, he makes sure that you know about his grades — and points out that without you, he wouldn't be able to pass. yuuji, gets a little upset when he realizes that if the exams are over, you had no more tutoring sessions with him; which meant no more conversations.

so he has to ask you out right then, he didn't want to just return as mere classmates. he wanted to be more than that.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

when you didn't care about his shitty reputation of being a single father while still being on the second term of uni.

being a single parent is hard enough. not to mention, in university. not married, with a baby itself gets a lot of unwanted (negative) attention — toji, who once failed to get a babysitter on a weekday, and so he had to bring his eight month old son to class.

his son—megumi— was a calm baby, thankfully. the young one didn't cry or babble during lectures, and he just slept through it. toji was a little relieved to say the least, but ever since people find out about him being a single father to an eight month old baby, a lot of assumptions and words have gone around.

toji hated group works, especially when he has to pick the group himself. people didn't want a single father to be in their group, they assumed that the male would focus on his baby and ends up deserting the group work.

so when that particular day where he has to bring megumi to campus, strapped on a baby carrier on his chest. his lecturer just had to give out a partner work, and to add the cherry on top; the lecturer left the class to choose their own partner. so the male sat on his place, a pencil in between his nose and upper lip as he puckered them lightly — hearing his classmates choosing each other.

he figured that he could just do this and get the grade himself, solo. but when you came up and slipped into the seat next to him, he was of course surprised.

you asked him if he would like to partner up with you for this work, and after a few seconds, he accepted your offer.

toji knew it was getting bad when you didn't care about what people say about you getting close to him. just by choosing him for this work made your reputation falter a bit, and he was honestly ready for you to back out of the partner work.

but you didn't, and he knew it's bad for him, his feelings, and his heart.

the way you treated him and megumi like they're both normal (which they are normal humans), and the way you always make him feel included makes his heart race. sometimes, when he fails to look for a babysitter when you both are working for this project, you tell him he didn't have to since megumi is a calm baby.

he finds himself in awe when baby megumi plays with you during both of your little meet ups outside of class to do the project. he's in love.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[residentflamingo]

Twice Members’ Favorite Places to Kiss You

Twice x fem! reader

Genre: fluff!!

Warnings: so sweet you’ll get a toothache <3

A/N: I have so many good drafts I want to share with you guys, but my motivation has been at 0% because school has been kicking me in the ass 💀✌️ But lately I have been getting a lot better, so more works are expected to come soon! Which also means I will be opening back up my requests box :D Someone did request me to write something a long time ago, and I’ve been steadily working on it over time. It’s got about 3,000 words on it, so as long as my lazy ass doesn’t put it off to writing it, that draft will be coming out soon as well. Thank you to all of you lovely people who have been patient, and also the ones that have been liking my posts. You guys are phenomenal and I love and appreciate all of you ❤️

Nayeon

Lips ♡

A very standard one, but well suitable for her

She loves how soft and plump your lips are

Like Sana, Nayeon is a very affectionate person

So after she’s had a loooong day at the studio, all she wants to do is give you some repetitive and silly kisses that end up in slow and passionate ones

(Sometimes she’ll even bite your lip if she’s feeling a little bit frisky that night…)

“Oh my gosh I missed you so much Y/N. You won’t believe how many new dance routines they made us learn today.”

Her favorite kinds of kisses are good luck kisses and goodnight kisses <3

(And the passionate ones of course ;)

Nayeon loves how sweet it feels to be able to show her love through a kiss, and be able to feel your soft lips in the process

Kissing your lips make her feel grounded, and wanting nothing more than to spend every moment of every day with you

Jeongyeon

Forehead ♡

Very domestic and homey feeling for her

Her kisses are always very sentimental and sweet

She doesn’t kiss as often as other people, which makes the wait worth it every time

“Here honey, you go lay down and rest. I can do the rest of the laundry for you.”

Always kisses you randomly and making sure it catches you off guard

She loves seeing you all flustered and shy <3

Kissing you on the forehead reminds her of being married to you someday, and just being able to protect you from harm

You are everything to her, and she never wants you to feel anything less than that

And if you’re shorter than her, then it’s an even better reason for her to kiss you on the forehead <3

Will also give you the biggest kiss when she comes home from work 🥺

“I missed you so much honey, what have you been up to?”

Momo

Tummy ♡

When you had previously told her about being insecure about your tummy, you never thought she would take it so seriously

But oh boy how wrong you were

It instantly became Momo's favorite place to kiss you

Momo made sure to always remember it so she could prove your insecurities wrong

She loves how soft and chunky your tummy is, and just can't ever get enough of it

Also loves how much you giggle when she kisses you

If you ever have those days where you're not feeling too great, she will start giving you kisses there first and make sure you feel so loved and beautiful

“You are so beautiful Y/N. Don’t you ever forget it.”

“Your stretch marks are not ugly at all honey I promise. They make you look even more gorgeous.”

She will sometimes leave hickies and bite marks there too, but only when she’s in the mood and you give her permission

If you are also pregnant, she will not hesitate to smother your tummy in kisses then too <3

It would be almost impossible for her to keep her hands off of you

Her end goal is to always make you feel loved, and to remind you that you are the most beautiful woman she has ever set her eyes on

Sana

Dimples ♡

We all know Sana is a very affectionate person. So choosing her favorite spot to kiss you would be impossible right?

Nope not at all for her.

The first thing that had drawn her to you was your radiant smile

But the deal breaker was the dimples that came along with it

She just couldn’t get enough of them

Once you guys had been dating for about 3-4 months, you both had gotten very comfortable with each other and started being all lovey dovey and such

That was when you noticed how much she loved to kiss your dimples

Any chance she could get, she made sure to kiss you in that same spot

It never failed to make you blush every time, and that’s part of the reason why she would constantly kiss you there

She also loves how well they compliment your face, and how adorable they make you look

“Y/N have I ever told you how much I love your dimples? They make you look so cute!” *pinches your cheeks*

Jihyo

Cheeks ♡

She doesn’t mind kissing on the lips. She loves it actually, but she just enjoys kissing your cheeks even more

Jihyo’s kisses are the most genuine ones you will ever feel in your entire life

Sometimes it’s hard for her to say how much she loves you outloud, so she’ll express it through her kisses

When you’re having a bad day and come home tired, she’ll wrap her arms around you and give soft pecks on your cheeks

Or when Jihyo has to leave for early morning dance practice, she’ll slowly wake you up by peppering your face with kisses too

It’s just a super sweet gesture for her, and your puffy cheeks are too cute for her to not kiss anyways

She loves the way you blush when she randomly walks up to you and kisses you

Jihyo adores you so much, even if it’s hard for her to say outloud sometimes

When she does, she makes sure it meaningful, and at the perfect time

“I love you so much Y/N. Even if I don’t say it outloud that much, I really do. You’re my world, and I never want you to feel any lesser than that.”

Mina

Nose ♡–-

When you confessed to her that you hated the shape/size of your nose, she made it one of her top priorities to make you feel less insecure about it

Her shy persona may keep her from expressing a lot of things, but it didn’t stop her from showing her affection for you

You were used to her always giving you warm hugs, and very soft kisses on the lips

But when she added your nose to the agenda, it was game over for you

She loves to kiss your nose when you look super cute, and she can’t handle it

Or when you’re doing something sweet for her like washing the dishes, or doing her laundry. She’ll always find a way to pay you back with affection

“Thank you so much baby. You’re so sweet.”

Over time your insecurities had slowly gone away after receiving so much love and support from her, making your nose the very very least of your worries

Having someone like her in your life made you realize that looks weren’t every thing, and that you never have to worry about when you’re with her

“Honey your nose is so cold. *kisses your nose* Here let me kiss it some more so it will feel warmer...”

Dahyun

Hands/ fingers ♡

Dahyun is very loving and sweet

She loves to hold your hand when you two are walking around Seoul together, or just cuddling on the couch

She loves the intimacy it brings between you two

If she doesn't express her love with words at the moment, she will express it with actions

She'll bring your hand up to her lip and pepper your knuckles, fingers, and whatever else with kisses

Something else that she would never admit, is how she loves the softness of your hands

It reminds her of when she was little, and she would hold her mother’s hand

Dahyun wants you to feel loved and adored by her at all times, even if it’s not verbally

When you guys are at restaurants, she will have no shame holding your hand from across the table and kissing it

“Dahyun be careful. People might see us.”

She’ll just laugh and say, “Let them. Nothing will ever stop me from expressing my love for you darling.”

Chaeyoung

Jawline/Neck ♡

We all know Chaeyoung is a big romantic

And can sometimes be a bit flirty with it too

So it’s no surprise that her favorite place to kiss you, would be the most intimate and steamy

Even though it is her favorite spot to kiss you, she doesn’t really kiss there very often

But when she does, she makes sure to go all out

She loves how intimate it is, and loves hearing/ seeing your reaction every time she kisses in that area

Most definitely will leave hickies too, so be aware when she starts going to town down there

“You like it when I kiss you like this baby?”

You can just already see her smirking while saying that…

She loves riling you up and making you melt from her touch <3

Tzuyu

Ears ♡

Tzuyu is a one-of-a-kind woman, and the sweetest one you have ever met

When you guys first started dating you it stayed at the awkward stage for a little bit longer than most couples

But when she started warming up to you, her affection towards you became even greater

It started with little kisses on the nose, then on the cheek, lips, she eventually progressed to your ears

You thought it was weird at first, but you eventually grew to love it

Tzuyu loves to hug you from behind because of the height difference, and she’ll often whisper in your ear how much she loves you

Sometimes she’ll nibble a little bit too after kissing it, but not very often

If you have slightly larger size ears, she would tease you about it every now and then

But not enough to where you would feel insecure

She just thinks your ears are super cute, and make you even more loveable

"I love you so much Y/N... Don't ever change. You are perfect just the way you are."

[batsythoughts]

Figure skater reader is so good!! I reread it twice already! I hope one day you feel like doing a part 2, I’m curious about what happens when reader wakes up living with the batfam :) you are a talented writer

Thank you so much and I'm glad that you all love the work so much! I also appreciate you all being so patient as I get back into the swing of writing again.

Here is the much anticipated Part 2 of Yandere Batfam x Figure Skater Reader!

The whole family was eager to get back to the manor when patrol would finally end, but Bruce made sure they still did the job correctly

All it took was a reminder to keep the city safe for dangers that could potentially cause you harm, which quickly motivated the kids to remain focused

Bruce had ordered Jason and Dick to get rid of your car so that people wouldn't notice it was abandoned in the parking lot

Tim had managed to get into your phone and drafted a message to send to everyone important in the morning saying you were traveling for an unspecified amount of time

After patrolling for over 3 hours, the family made it back to the manor with minimal damage to their own bodies

Alfred was waiting to inform them that you were still unconscious, but should wake up within the next hour or so

All the kids got excited by the news, but Bruce was quick to order them to get washed and into fresh clothes

Once Alfred had insured that all injuries were treated, the whole family quietly made their way into your room to patiently wait for your awakening

Most of them lounged around the room, fixing little details that seemed out of place in their minds

Cass and Damian were seated beside your bed as they watched you slowly begin to stir

Everyone gathered close by as your face scrunched up before your eyes finally fluttered open

They watched as your eyes focus through the after effects of the remaining traces of the drug in your system

They wait patiently until you turn your head to finally look at them all together for the first time in your new home

Cass was the first to reach out as she tried to take hold of your hand only for you to pull away from the attempted contact

She frowned while trying once again, only for you to begin weakly smacking away her hands

Bruce took note of the growing unease between the children at the sight of your defiance. Clearing his throat, Bruce nodded towards the door while giving all the kids that 'look'. "All of you go get a few hours of sleep. I would like to have a talk with your sister about a few things."

He waited until after the door closed behind them before moving to sit on the edge of the bed. Using one hand to gently grasp your shoulder while the other had sure you didn't turn away as Bruce looked into your eyes.

"Sweetie, I need you to listen to me," Bruce spoke in a soft voice to not over stimulate your temporary sensitive hearing.

"Not your 'sweetie'." You send him a weak glare while trying to move your head from his touch. Your words becoming jumbled as you close your eyes. "And I'm not... not their sister."

Bruce gives a long sigh as he used a firmer hand to make use you kept looking at him. "That was your old life. This is your new life with our family. It will take some time for you to accept that, but we are here to make it easier on you. The sooner you accept that, the happier everyone will be, especially you."

His words didn't seem to sink into your head before you began struggling away from him again. Bruce shook his head before getting up and walking out of the room. Making sure to secure the lock before turning towards Alfred.

"Can you make sure to-"

"I already have the kettle on for tea and will make some toast for her to eat," Alfred assured Bruce as they stood outside of your new room. "Though I can't guarantee that she will be willing to accept the offer."

Bruce gave a nod before he began walking in the direction of his room. "Thank you, Alfred. I will check on her again in a few hours. Make sure she doesn't have a means to harm herself until then."

Which Alfred insured, putting the tea in a cup that wouldn't shatter and the toast on a paper plate

He took it to your room after making sure the tea wasn't burning hot if you wanted to drink it

When he got in the room, you were still fighting the haze of the drugs, but you were now sat up in the bed

He watched you press yourself to the wall as he set the cup and plate on the nightstand before leaving and securing the room to make breakfast for the rest of the family

They all came down after the sun had risen to silently eat the meal that was prepared for them

Bruce gave each of the kids a set of tasks to do for the day to take their minds off the ordeal that happened when they returned from patrol

After they had all went to do their respective tasks, Bruce went to the Batcave to check on you through the handful of cameras that were discretely hidden in your room

He watched you walk around, trying to find a way out and ripping the bedroom and conjoined bathroom apart

The door opened to show Alfred coming in to collect the untouched cup and plate, which caused you to throw the pillows and other objects

Alfred didn't bat an eye as he walked back out and locked you back in by yourself

Bruce watched you struggle to pull the door open and hit at the frame while screaming to be let out

He watched you continue for almost half an hour before you finally wore yourself out and laid on the floor and cried

After you had passed out, Bruce went back to talk to Alfred about how they could help you accept your new position

Jason and Tim soon came in a few minutes later saying that the car situation was fully taken care of and wouldn't become a problem later on

Tim also explained that he had put together a media stream to show you in case they needed to further convince you that nobody was curious or concerned about your whereabouts

Bruce acknowledged both of their efforts and told them to find something to be kept busy for the rest of the day

A few hours passed before Dick sent a message to Bruce saying that Cass was in her room, sulking over what happened in the morning

He took some time to collect his thoughts before going to her room to check up on her

He saw her sitting on her bed staring at a picture of you she had on her phone

Bruce went over and sat beside her, remaining quiet for a minute before saying you just needed a bit of time to adjust to the sudden change to being with the family

Cass gave a nod before saying she was simply hurt by how you reacted when you saw her

He hummed before placing a kiss to the side of her head and saying you were just startled from the new environment

That seemed to brighten Cass' mood as she gave a weak grin while agreeing with Bruce

He gave her a small hug before taking his leave to look over a few business documents in his office

Alfred had tried offering you a plate of food for every meal after he served the family

Though you barely took more than one or two bites, if you even touched the food to begin with

The family barely had any contact with you due to your continuous aggressive behavior, though it seemed to decrease just a bit each day

Despite being told to keep their distance, occasionally the kids would wait outside your door and try to start conversations

Each time you heard their voices, you threw objects at the door and yelled to be let out from this 'prison'

A couple weeks after you were brought into the family, Dick had decided to go in to try and have a peaceful talk to calm your nerves about the situation

He had Jason be lookout for in case things did end up getting complicated

The moment Dick crossed the threshold, you began raising your voice for him to get out

Dick persevered as he made it further into the room, calmly assuring you he only wanted you to understand they only wanted to keep you safe from the city's dangers

The closer he got, the louder your shouts got and the more physically defiant you began acting towards him

It didn't bother Dick one bit that you were a little upset, until he made the mistake of putting his hand on your arm

Your fist hit his cheek before he even registered that it was moving

Not wanting to accidentally cause you harm, Dick simply held up his arms as you kept hitting with all the pent up aggression since your kidnapping

Before Dick could call out to Jason for help, Bruce burst through the door with one of the coldest glares Dick had ever seen

"Out. Now." Dick had been in the vigilante business long enough to catch the authority of Batman bleeding into the man who had taken him in years ago.

Dick swiftly stepped back and left the room to avoid Bruce's wrath. Closing the door without order, leaving you locked in alone with a visibly pissed of Bruce Wayne.

He wasted no time matching towards you and grabbing hold of you in a bruising grip. Without much effort, Bruce forced you to sit on the bed before grasping your chin. He didn't let up on the pressure, even when the fear flashed in your eyes.

"You listen to me, and listen well to get this through your stubborn, little head." Bruce stared into your soul with the intensity of Gotham's protector. "We have been patient in giving you the time you needed to adjust to this new life. The kids took the verbal abuse from your ungrateful mouth. Alfred made a plate for you every meal, and never complained that you barely touched it. But I will not stand for you thinking you can physically assault your siblings."

"They're not my-" You had begun before Bruce tightened his grip and shook your head.

"They are your siblings, because this is your life now. Do you think anyone has been looking for you this entire time?" The disbelief that flashed in your eyes was what made Bruce push further. "No one has noticed you have been absent in your own life. If you need proof, then so be it."

He pushed your face away before moving his grip to your ankle. Lightly twisting the skin as he continues to stare at you. "But keep in mind, if you try hitting any of them again, I will not hesitate to break every single bone in your ankles and ruin the one thing that we still want to share with you from your old life."

Bruce squeezed his fingers for a second before finally standing up and exiting your room, slamming the door close. Finding all the kids standing at the end of the hall, waiting for Bruce's next move. He simply took a deep breath before looking towards Damian. "Show her the media feed that was put together."

Damian gave a small nod as he took the tablet that Tim held out to him. Everyone stepped aside as the youngest made his way to the door. Looking up at his father for a moment before nodding his head and opening the door.

Bruce stood in the doorway as Damian walked over to the bed. Sitting down next to you before handing over the tablet for you to look through. He watched you hesitantly look through the preselected news reports and and filtered social media sites, finding no information of your sudden disappearance.

Instead of answering, you simply handed the tablet back to Damian with a defeated look in settling on your face. Bruce cleared his throat, causing Damian to stand up and walk out of the room.

"Are you going to be our sister now since no one is looking for you?" Damian's voice cut through the silence as he waited for your response. He did feel a little bad for lying about you not being missed by those you once knew. Especially when they all saw every worry post that your family made, wondering about where you were.

Though he was aware that you needed the push to finally see them as your family. "Do you have to stay locked in here where we don't get to see you?"

Bruce gave you a stern glare as he gave you a quiet warning, "Alfred will bring you breakfast in the morning. I expect you to eat what he brings you with a smile."

With that, the door to your room got closed for the last time that night

Bruce told all the kids to get ready for patrol and stormed down the hall

Each of them shared glances before going to do what was ordered of them

The next day when Alfred brought breakfast, you didn't yell like you usually would when he arrived

And when he returned to gather your plate, Alfred was surprised to see that you had eaten a little more than half the food

With each meal that was given to you, the less food was left for clean up

The kids still talked to you through the door during the day to try and connect with you despite the fact you won't say a word to them

But after a week, they could tell you would come and sit by the door when they would 'visit' you

You never made any effort to connect, so they all just figured the loneliness was becoming too much

One night, Cass stayed at the manor, saying she wanted to have a night away from their nightly activities

She was sat outside your room for most of the night, making little conversation through the door as she leaned against it

She made a small comment about missing the feeling she got when you all had skated when first meeting

Everything got quiet for a moment before Cass heard a soft hum from the other side of the door

She shifted slightly before mentioning that there was the small ice rink that the family made for you, hesitantly offering to take you to spend some time out of your bedroom

There was a beat before Cass heard you whisper a soft "Really?"

Cass waited a moment before reaching up to open the door just slightly to see you sitting on the floor and looking at her with a slightly pleading look

She helped you up and grabbed a light jacket for the two of you before taking your hand and leading you towards the Batcave

At first you were stunned by all the tech and equipment that was in the cave, but Cass lead you towards the rink and grabbed the skates

She helped tie yours like you had done for her before and carefully lead you onto the ice

You were slightly wobbly on your feet in the beginning, but Cass assumed it was due to not skating for over a month

You both did some laps around before moving on to small jumps and maneuvers

Neither of you noticed how much time had passed until the sound of an engine cut through the relative quiet

All the boys were surprised to see you in the cave when they got back from patrol, but they didn't let their shock last too long

They went over to the edge of the rink and helped you and Cass off the ice and out of the skates

Cass wrapped her arms around you while beaming about how much she enjoyed spending the time together

Bruce saw you tense up at first before you hesitantly returned the hug with a far off look in your eyes

The boys soon joined the hug with large smiles at the fact you weren't fighting against them anymore

Bruce stood off to the side for a moment to enjoy the scene in front of him

Walking over towards all his kids, them moved enough for Bruce to get a clear look at your face.

A grin crossed his face as he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to your forehead

"Welcome home, sweetie."

Sorry about the wait for this! I have been busy with work, family, and doctors appointments this past month. I do have a few requests in my inbox that I will be working through, but I hope to get those done somewhat quicker than I have been. Thank you all for the support and I hope you all have amazing days!

[love-belle]

modern day romeo and juliet !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their love was the modern day romeo and juliet, with a happy ending.

or 

for when you find your forever. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings - language, alludes to sex, mentions of sex, whatever.

author’s note - hello!! i REALLY hope u all like this one bc it was so fun to write like it was so chuckle worthy so i really hope u enjoy it!! thank u so much for reading, i love u <3 i will try to post once more tonight bc i have 10+ drafts rn with almost 20 requests and i'm trying to do them all one by one, thank u so much for being patient <3

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

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8,628 comments

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username IM SCREAMING WHY IS SHE SO BEAUTIFUL

username the caption has my jaw slacked

lilymhe girl it's the truest love

*liked by yourusername*

username no bc i would happily d!e if someone did that for me like CHERRIES AND ROSES AFTER SEX WOAH

username me pretending like i can relate to this knowing damn well my single ass is getting none

username don't be scared gf drop his @

carmenmmundt i'm going to ignore the caption and just say that you look gorgeous baby

-> yourusername as if u weren't the first to message the gc BUT THANK U MY LOVE

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username god when will i have this ?

landonorris gross we don't need to know that

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username we really lost mother this time huh?

username i can only imagine the look of horror on toto's face

charles_leclerc idk to me it sounds like it's TRUE true love

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username charles what r u doing here

-> username thoughts are being thunk rn

username to have someone who would bring me cherries and roses after getting railed :///

username oh she's GLOWING

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱ 

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 874,926 others

charles_leclerc the water's getting colder let me in your ocean

8,627 comments

username CHARLES???????

username GOODBYE

username NOT HIM QUOTING CHASE ATLANTIC OMG

username i just wanna know who got him quoting this song I SWEAR

username NAH MY MAN'S DOWN BAD

carlossainz55 my eyes.

-> charles_leclerc why do you think i texted the gc before posting???

username WHO IS SHE OMG

username SWIM OMFG

username girlies we officially lost him

username y/n soft (hard) launched her man too and now charles.............are we seeing this shit

-> username i have made the connection

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-> username i have made it

maxverstappen1 please there are kids on this app

-> charles_leclerc look away landonorris

-> landonorris ur both just as bad as each other

-> username not to alarm anyone but that's EXACTLY what y/n said on her post

-> username oh.

yourusername swim 🌊

-> charles_leclerc swim 🌊

-> username WHAT DOES THIS MEAN.

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱ 

liked by paddockgirlies, y/nwolff44, f1wags and 62,628 others

paddock.club charles leclerc and y/n wolff spark dating rumours after they were spotted out on a date, only adding into them as they shared a kiss. leclerc and wolff have been having coy interactions on social media for a while now but they were barely seen interacting outside the paddock. both of them, separately, have been hinting at a relationship for a few weeks now although we had no reason to believe that they were together, until these photos resurfaced. click on the link in our bio for more details about the new potential f1 couple.

3,527 comments

username OH MY GOD

username WHATCTHEBFUCK

username pretty people (charles) ruining it again for the poor (me)

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username THOSE THIRSTY ASS POSTS MAKE SM SENSE NOW

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username this information is life altering like ACTUALLY

username y/n this isn't u babe come home the kids and the cats miss u ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ u can bring him too ig

username charles leclerc i am under ur bed

username not a vroom vroom guy stealing my wife the fuck

username i would do anything to be at the mercedes garage rn

username i had already made the connection

-> username u didn't make shit

-> username i had already made it

username they'd be such a power couple like WOAHHH

username BOTH of my parasocial relationships are in shambles rn

username off topic but she's so barbie coded and he's just ken

username MOTHER and then it's just some silly guy

username HOW'D HE PULL HER 😭😭😭

username charles leclerc teach me ur ways

username if he can pull someone like y/n then i have hope for myself

username no bc i don't know who to be more jealous of

username not the entire comment section bullying charles and thirsting over y/n 💀💀💀

≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱ 

liked by charles_leclerc, susie_wolff, francisca.cgomes and 898,724 others

yourusername his swagless looks and cringe fail personality have captivated me

tagged charles_leclerc

11,628 comments

username PLEASE

username OH MY GOD

username SIS REALLY CAME FOR CHARLES LIKE THAT

lewishamilton finally someone addressed the swagless looks

-> yourusername listen i love him but it had to be said

-> charles_leclerc both of you are dead to me.

username SHE'S SO UNSERIOUS I LOVE HER

username she really secured the rival team's driver for future use for her dad and roasted him on the internet while announcing their relationship

-> username this is the most y/n thing y/n has ever done

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-> username that's what i call iconic.

francisca.cgomes this is the equivalent of u saying "where the hoes at" im heartbroken

-> yourusername babe i just said that so i could avoid that area

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username bf who is so babygirl and gf who is just a silly little guy

-> yourusername im getting this comment framed and hanging it above the mantle

username i apsire to be her

charles_leclerc can't believe i got violated by my girlfriend like that

charles_leclerc mom amour why

charles_leclerc this is unbelievable

-> yourusername relax i'll fuck u let me be funny first

-> charles_leclerc ........yeah okay!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-> username CHARLES 😭😭😭😭

-> username Y/N OMG

-> username i fucking love this girl sm

susie_wolff please answer my calls. - toto wolff

-> yourusername give susie her phone back

-> susie_wolff call me. and have charles call me too. - toto wolff

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-> susie_wolff y/n y/m/m wolff. - toto wolff

-> yourusername goodbue ou mu god

username toto is throwing another set of headphones i can FEEL it

username parents 🙏🙏🙏

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, georgerussell63 and 899,724 others

charles_leclerc ma belle looked so pretty today i almost cried

tagged yourusername

12,728 comments

username GOD WHY CAN'T SOMEONE LOVE ME LIKE THIS

username OH MY GOD???????

username need a man to be obsessed with like RIGHT now

username i cried leclerc get on my level

*liked by yourusername*

carlossainz55 almost?

-> charles_leclerc haha don't make me block you.

-> landonorris is he wrong tho?

-> charles_leclerc no comment.

username HE'S SO OBSESSED WITH HER AHSJSJKAK

-> username can't blame him bc SAME

-> username if my girl was y/n i would be too tf

georgerussell63 you are toto's number 1 enemy!

-> charles_leclerc i have been living life in fear since the day we started dating

-> yourusername i kinda like u too much ur sticking around

-> charles_leclerc ahahahahahahhahaah!!! okay!!!!!!! ahahahahhaha!!!!!!

-> lewishamilton y/n he's doing that thing again

-> yourusername he'll be back to normal i swear just give him a min

-> username same charles SAME

susie_wolff so happy for you both 🤍

-> susie_wolff i will be seeing you at tonight's dinner, leclerc. - toto wolff

-> charles_leclerc thank you so much susie 🤍

-> charles_leclerc babe your dad is being mean again yourusername

-> yourusername dad.

-> susie_wolff can't wait to see you, charles. - toto wolff

-> charles_leclerc why was that more threatening than the previous one.

yourusername good. need a man on his knees crying and screaming and throwing up bc im too hot

-> charles_leclerc you can have me like that anytime of the day just saying

-> yourusername BOY MY DAD'S ON THIS APP

-> charles_leclerc YOU ACT LIKE YOU HAVEN'T SAID WORSE

-> yourusername catch these hands

-> charles_leclerc we're now holding hands haha! this is nice!

-> yourusername u dumbfuck i adore u so much what.

username im SICK rn like OH MY GOD

username i see u on street and it's on SIGHT for destroying my carefully curated parasocial relationship

≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, danielricciardo and 798,626 others

yourusername he got jack's approval and that's all that really matters

tagged charles_leclerc susie_wolff

7,816 comments

username HE MET THE FAMILY OFFICIALLY OMG

username what would i do to be an atom during this whole vacation

username JACK AND Y/N MY BABIES ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username JACK APPROVES WE WON

landonorris does toto like him?

-> yourusername we're making progress.

-> danielricciardo does it look promising?

-> yourusername uncertain but hoping for the best.

-> carlossainz55 copy. keep us updated.

-> charles_leclerc why are you like this

username JACK MY FAV WOLFF FRRRRR

username i think charles is traumatized by now

username SHE LOOKS SO ETHEREAL IN THE THIRD SLIDE LIKE OH MY GOD?????? A LITERAL ANGEL???????? IM SPEECHLESS

-> username charles it's ok u can comment from ur main acc

*liked by yourusername*

username THIS WHOLE FAMILY HAS MY HEART

username susie and wolff the ultimate power couple 🔥🔥🔥

username baby brother agreed everything is ok now

carmenmmundt missing my love

-> yourusername i miss u so bad

-> carmenmmundt i was talking about jack but i miss you too ig

-> yourusername fuck u actually

username well he got 3/4 wolffs on his side that's something ‼️‼️‼️

susie_wolff had the most amazing time, y/n!! even toto said "it was okay." ❤️

-> yourusername i love u guys sm ❤️

-> susie_wolff he still not getting within 6ft radius of you. - toto wolff

-> yourusername dad u do realise that everything that had to happen has happened?????

-> susie_wolff i suddenly need to talk to him. very urgent. - toto wolff

-> charles_leclerc WHY DO U NOT WANT ME TO HAVE A GOOD TIME

-> yourusername oh shit sorry dw u will be fine!!!!!!!!

username i missed the whole wolffs content sm :///

username BABY JACK AND Y/N

charles_leclerc little dude loves me

-> yourusername after u brought him 26281927 toys

-> charles_leclerc a win is a win

-> yourusername ok babe.

charles_leclerc your dad is looking at him like he wants to break my every bone while counting i am scared

-> yourusername just say that i would be upset if he did that

-> charles_leclerc he left me alone thank you my love ❤️

-> yourusername anything for u ❤️

-> username is toaster waterproof???? let's find out!!!!!!!

-> username they make me feel single in 262828 languages it's not funny anymore

username to have what charles and y/n have :///

username if my relationship isn't exactly like this i don't want it.

username they're my parents ur honour

[fiveht]

Proof of life (Adore pt 3)

Hello my sweet angel babies ♥️

I'm not going to be able to adequately express my gratitude for the steady stream of love (and concern, sorry) I've been receiving over the past couple of months. I'm so sorry I've been AWOL, it will definitely happen again. Because see, for me, I usually have to make a choice between social and creative fandom participation. My battery is small, and takes a long time to charge.

Thank you to everyone who's left comments and asks and DMs since I've been gone. I don't think I can respond to all of it, but rest assured those messages ping my cold, dead heart every time I see them.

So I'm gonna go out on a limb here. I did this same thing months and months ago, when I was working on Head Over Feet, and let me be clear: posting even a single word of a WIP goes against my every instinct and principle as an author. I am someone who likes to finish an entire story before I post any of it, and on top of that, I am NOT a fast writer, so the expectations that I'm setting up here might not be advisable. But I did it before and managed to finish the thing, and I want to give you guys something in exchange for being so unbelievably awesome, so here I am again.

This will probably be the only time I mention this story in public until it's finished and posted, and inquiries about my progress are unlikely to help with the writing process, I'm just saying. I reserve the right to change every last word of this before the final draft, and I also reserve the right to fall off the face of the planet and simply never finish it, as much as I will strive to prevent that from happening. Please be patient with me.

Anyway, here is my paltry offering to say thanks for the love: the (VERY rough) first ~1300 words of the third instalment of The Adventures of Soft Daddy and Danger Twink.

Sirius secures his handheld shower head to its holder at the edge of his clawfoot tub, and steps out carefully onto the bathmat. He shivers in the cool air outside the shower curtain; it's about twenty degrees below zero outside, so even if he could afford to run his ancient radiator at full blast, it probably wouldn't help much.

He dries himself off and checks his reflection in the mirror, turning his face this way and that as he tugs his hair out of the bun he'd piled it into to keep it dry during his shower. There's no need for makeup tonight, not when he's not even planning to put on clothes.

It's incrementally warmer when he steps out into the main room of his apartment. He gathers an array of splayed text books and notes from his bed and dumps them carelessly onto the couch, then closes his new laptop and places it delicately on the coffee table. It's the most expensive thing he owns, save for the Gucci backpack currently sitting in his wardrobe with a three-inch berth around it like his shoes and other bags might somehow contaminate it. It's weird owning rich-people stuff when you are still, objectively, broke as fuck.

He perches on the edge of his bed and sets his phone to charge, because his battery doesn't even last a day anymore, and he's going to need it this evening. He tucks it in next to his pillow and picks up his new toy.

The plug isn't much larger than the one he already has. A little longer, which is appealing, but no wider, so it shouldn't be a challenge to get it in comfortably. He disconnects it from its charger and hefts it in his hand, feeling the added weight from the electronics inside.

He picks up his phone, and hesitates when he sees the notification waiting for him.

Rieka: let's go out tomorrow

Rieka: the fact that we haven't been drunk since the term started is criminal

Rieka: we've had two chem labs and zero drinks

Sirius purses his lips, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. There's a fine line here, and he hasn't quite found it yet.

Me: got plans

Me: raincheck?

So complete avoidance is the best strategy, right?

Rieka: booooo 👎

He sighs, but at least she's not asking for an explanation. He opens a different conversation then, pushing all thoughts of Rieka Lupin into a tidy, sealed compartment, not to be opened during certain activities with a certain relative of hers.

Me: i'm ready

Me: are you in your office?

Daddy: Yup, I've got a few minutes

Daddy: Want me to call?

Instead of answering, Sirius hits the call button himself.

"Hey baby," Remus answers. His voice is already smooth and honey-sweet, and just from that, Sirius knows he's planning to lay it on thick tonight.

"Hi daddy," Sirius says with a smile. "Should I put it in now?"

There's a low chuckle over the line. "Are we feeling eager?"

"Always," Sirius says, laying back on his bed.

"Use the good lube I got you, it's gonna be in there a while."

He switches the call to speaker, and snags the bottle from his nightstand. "I threw out the old stuff, you've got me ruined for cheap lube."

"Only the best for that ass," Remus says, and Sirius can hear his smirk.

He gives the plug a liberal coating, running his fingers along its shape, his dick twitching just at the feel of the silky-smooth silicone, at the anticipation of what's about to happen. He spreads his legs wide, drawing one knee up to give himself easier access.

"Take it slow," Remus says, succinctly heading off Sirius' impulse to just shove the thing inside himself in one go. "Rub the tip against yourself, so you're nice and wet."

Sirius shuts his eyes as he obeys, sliding the slick end of the toy over his entrance. "Okay."

"Are you going to be a good boy for daddy tonight?"

"Uh-huh," Sirius says, teasing the very tip of the plug in and out of his hole.

"Tell me how."

"I'm not gonna touch."

"You're not gonna touch, and you're not gonna come."

"Yeah," Sirius says. His cock is starting to harden as his body tries to draw the plug inside. "Can I put it in, daddy?"

"Slow," Remus reminds him, "Slide it in nice and slow for me, baby."

Sirius catches his lip between his teeth and tries to push the plug in slowly, the way he knows Remus would do if he was here. 

The shower has left him relaxed and more than ready, and it's hard not to take advantage, just press the toy in to its limit because he can. But he's working on his patience -- under Remus' careful tutelage -- so he shuts his eyes and tries to savour it, the tease of the plug's rubber tip at his entrance, the slow stretch as he eases it past the slight resistance before he sighs, and his body eagerly accepts the intrusion.

"Mmmm," Sirius sighs as he settles the base of the plug flush against his entrance, shifting his hips and feeling the constant, dull pressure against his prostate.

"How's it feel?" 

"Good," Sirius says, splaying his legs out and just enjoying the pleasant fullness. It's been almost a week since Remus last fucked him, and that's just way too long. Christmas really spoiled him. He tugs the blankets up around him, because it's going to take some time before his body temperature is high enough to fight against the chill in his apartment.

"Have you tried out the settings at all?" Remus asks him, and Sirius picks up the phone, switching off speaker and holding it to his ear.

"No," he says, grinding his ass down against the bed to test the plug's reach inside him. "I thought you'd rather do the honours."

Remus hums, and Sirius hears the phone shifting in his grip. "I'm gonna turn it on, okay? Lowest setting."

"O--" Sirius stutters as the plug buzzes to life inside him, nestled snug against his prostate and sending little zings of pleasure down his legs. "Fuck that feels good. That's the lowest setting?"

"It is," Remus confirms. "Want to run through them all, see how high it goes? Or would you rather be surprised?"

"Mmmm, surprise me."

"Surprise it is," Remus says, and Sirius hears shuffling papers in the background as he prepares for his night class. Psychology 1001, Thursdays, 7-9:30PM. Two and a half hours of a lecture that Remus swears he's given so many times he could recite it in his sleep, so why not give himself something fun to focus on while he goes through the motions? 

Being privy to all of this brilliant, upstanding man's secret perversions is a privilege Sirius does not take lightly.

"You can turn it off from the app if you need to," Remus is saying, "Or you can call me and I'll switch it off. My phone's on vibrate, so I'll see it right away."

Sirius smiles to himself. "Got it," he says, though this is a rehashing of the rules that Remus had laid out when he'd brought the plug over last weekend. He'd called it a "late Christmas gift", as if he hadn't already given Sirius several thousand dollars worth of presents on Christmas morning.

There's more rustling over the line, the squeak of a chair. 

"Tell me again how you're going to be good tonight."

"I'm not gonna touch myself, and I'm not gonna come." The toy is still buzzing away inside him, making everything a little fuzzy at the edges. 

"Tell me why."

"'Cause daddy's in charge, even when he's not here."

"Good boy."

Sirius squirms with pleasure, his cock smearing a little drop of fluid on his belly as the toy hums insistently at his prostate.

"I have to head out," Remus says. "How do you feel?"

"Good," Sirius says, his abs tensing as he shifts his legs and the angle of the toy changes. "Excited."

"Me too," Remus says softly. "I'll talk to you soon, beautiful. Send me some pictures." With a low beep, the call disconnects.

[ghostofhyuck]

Taguan ng Anak series 3

Ex-lovers! Jeno and reader

Summary: On the first sunrise of the year, you met again the person who you loved the most that he completely destroyed you.

Oh right, and he’s the father of the unknowingly twins that he befriended.

cw: mentions of pregnancy.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

No one appreciates winter at the beach as much as Jeno.

His camera sat idly on his hand, waiting for the sun to rise. It was the first sunrise of the year, and Jeno made sure that he’ll watch it somewhere unique. Jeno searched on Naver just to look for a hidden beach that’s not crowded with people during the winter season.

The place was beautiful. The resthouse that he booked was clean and suits his taste. There were only a few people around the area but he heard that the room next to his was rented too, he guessed that he’s not the only one who went to watch the sunrise there.

It was ten minutes till sunrise, Jeno patiently sat on the sand, looking at the old photos on his camera. He couldn’t help but smile as he saw photos of his family, his cats, and even his friends. Jeno enjoys taking pictures in his spare time, a small hobby that he grew to love outside his busy job as a nurse.

“Hey! I told you not to throw sand on me!”

“You did it first!”

“I didn’t! And addressed me as your ‘noona!’ I’m much older!”

“No! We’re only five minutes apart!”

Jeno couldn’t help but glance at the noise that sort of destroyed his peace. He saw two kids nearby, fighting. Jeno crunches his forehead, who the hell leaves their kids unsupervised? He looks around and sees that it’s just him and the two kids, as much as he wants to mind his own business, Jeno couldn’t help but overhear their conversation.

“Yah! The sun is near! Where’s our phone?”

“I told you to get mama’s phone!”

“Her phone’s still charging,”

“You drained its battery playing games again! How can we take photos of the sunrise now!?”

“Hey you two!” Jeno shouted, standing up from his place. He quietly patted the sand from his pants and approached the two kids.

“We’re sorry for being noisy,” the girl immediately said, bowing her head. Her younger brother immediately followed. Jeno stops, surprised to see how the kids’ attitudes changed immediately.

Jeno chuckles, “hey, you guys did disturb me, but it’s fine. I heard you two wanted pictures of the sunrise, I’ll give you some.”

“Really!? Thank you uncle!” the girl exclaims, bowing once again which her younger brother imitated.

“No worries kids, come on, let's watch the sunrise together,” Jeno smiles.

“Thank you uncle!” they both said once again.

Somehow, Jeno feels lighthearted around them. He couldn’t help but feel like there’s something that connects him to the two of them. Jeno couldn’t point it out and tries to ignore the fact that the boy looks like a splitting image of him.

“There’s no way,” he couldn’t help but laugh. Trying to erase his imaginative mind and instead, focused on the golden sky in front of them. The kids were behaving well beside him, Jeno could only hear small gasps as the sun rose slowly. He took pictures of the scenery and the kids too. Jeno wanted to make sure that the kids can bring home some good memories.

“Thank you uncle for taking pictures of the sunset!” the younger girl said. “Mama would like this!”

“Oh really? Where’s your mom?” Jeno asked. Looking around and still seeing that it’s just the three of them around the area.

“She’s in the resthouse sleeping! She said that she’ll watch the sunrise with us but she overslept!” the younger boy explains with a pout.

“But, but! That’s because she spent the night finishing her draft, you know that Hiro!” the girl explains.

“Yeah, but this is our vacation! Why is she working anyway,” the boy scratches his head.

Jeno couldn’t help but laugh, “by the way, I don’t know your names yet, can you tell me?”

“Oh! We’re —”

“Yoomi! Hiro! Where are you two!?”

“Mama!” Jeno stopped his tracks when the kids passed by him and went to the voice that called them.

“Oh dear, I was worried!? What if a bad guy stole you two from me!?” Jeno turns around and becomes dazed to see you with the kids hugging your legs. You were so worried that you didn’t even notice Jeno. you were trying to check the twins if there was anything that happened to them.

“It’s okay mama! There’s this good-looking uncle who took photos for us!” Yoomi excitedly said.

“She’s right mama! There’s uncle!” Hiro shouted, pointing at Jeno.

And in a second, your world stopped. He approaches you casually so that you didn’t realise that you were frozen from where you are standing.

“Jeno…” you mumbled.

“It’s been a long time huh?” He greets you with a bitter tone.

“Yeah, it’s been a long time since…” you don’t want to finish your sentence, knowing how fresh it was still to you when was the last time you saw Jeno.

You met Jeno right after graduation. Right when you’re just trying to be stable in your life. To make it short, he was the best and the worst thing that ever happened to your life.

It’s not like he’s a bad guy but the timing was wrong. You two never passed the honeymoon phase so things went rough with you being a starving artist while Jeno struggled to survive med school, complications arose from the shared apartment. Small misunderstanding and fights did occur, no one wants to lower their pride.

At the same time, both of you crave for each other, for each other’s touch and kisses. Most of your arguments will end up in bed. The two of you think that most of your fights were resolved after sharing intimacy, and the day will go back to normal as if both of you weren’t mad at each other.

But then came the huge fight between you two, you barely recall what was the starting point of the fight but all you know is that both of you were tired. So the two of you called it quits. The next day, you moved out of the apartment, leaving Jeno alone.

You know that relationships fail and you just have to pick yourself again to start over again. Well that didn’t happen to you after you broke up with Jeno. Especially when he left you not only with one, but two kids to carry. And with a little pride left to you, you returned to your hometown and raised the kids on your own until you were ready to settle and create your own career once again.

You didn’t hold any resentment against your children, but of course, there’s a part of you who wished that you had kids when you’re ready. You had choices too, but a part of you held onto that thought that the twins remind you so much about the person whom you loved so much that it completely destroyed you.

But it was all in the past now. You’re a rising writer and at the same time an editor at a well-known publishing company. Your schedule’s a bit hectic but you were able to raise the twins with love and care.

“You didn’t tell me,” Jeno said with a serious tone.

After that awkward greeting, the kids begged you to have Jeno come over to your place so that he can give them the pictures. Turns out it was you who rented the room next to his.

“How did you know?”

Jeno raised an eyebrow, “come on now, Hiro looks like me when I was young.”

You stayed quiet and could only look at the half glass of cold water in front of you, “If I told you, would things be different?”

“What do you mean?”

“Jeno I’m scared, you know how toxic we were back then, if I had returned to you and told you that I was pregnant, would it change a thing?”

Jeno became quiet, not knowing what to say. You were right, would things change if you went back to him? It never crossed his mind about having a family and kids; both of you are not ready during that time.

But it crossed his mind the thought of you raising two babies alone. You explained to him that you asked help with your parents and siblings but still, Jeno couldn’t help but feel guilty at what you’ve been through.

You two fought a lot and Jeno knows how toxic you two back then, but a part of him wished that he hadn’t engaged with those petty fights, he wished that he could’ve been more mature and see that relationships will always not be rainbows and sunshines.

He wishes that he could’ve been more understanding, and that he should’ve made your relationship with him work rather than making it worse.

“You’re right, things might’ve been worse too,” Jeno could only mutter. “I’m just — we were immature and I had some faults too, I’m sorry for everything.”

“I’m sorry too, maybe the timing wasn’t right,”

“Do you think that the timing’s right now?”

You became quiet. You saw how Jeno looks at you with sincerity.

“You’re being straightforward,” you comment.

“I know and it’s all of the sudden,” he lets out a sigh. “But I am still the twin’s father, I want to help you on raising them. Listen, it doesn’t need for us to be together again, I just want to be a father to my kids.”

His kids. It’s so fitting to him. Something inside of you jumped when he told you those words. But you couldn’t help but fear that things might not work again. You’re afraid that you’ll let him enter your life again — only for you to be disappointed that the two of you are just never meant to be.

“I…Jeno, I —”

“I know, I’ll give you time to think,” Jeno quietly says. He then taps something on his phone, making your phone’s ringtone to chime.

“Seems like your phone number hasn’t changed,” he then stands up. “I’ll be going now, if the twins want to see me, they can just knock next door.”

As you hear the door closed, you couldn’t help but exhale loudly. It felt like a thick thorn had been removed from your heart after that conversation with Jeno. You have a lot of things to consider but for now, you could only look at the message Jeno has sent you.

No, it was a picture. It was Yoomi and Hiro together. Both of them are smiling widely and behind them was the first sunrise of the year. You couldn’t help but shed a tear, imagining what their reactions would be if you told them that it was their father who took photos of them.

[da-rulah]

The Mayor's Daughter - Mary Goore x f!Reader [Part 4]

Summary: Mary can't think straight; at least, not about anything but you. He's angry, and he's hurt - rightly so - but he can't help the feeling that he's missing something. His spider senses are tingling, and his saviour complex is nagging in his head...

Meanwhile, you're dragged to a formal dinner at the Town Hall with your father's sleazy political associates. What could possibly go wrong?

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Word Count: 13.6k

Warnings: Angst, childhood memories/trauma, alcoholism, addiction, minor drug use, creepy men being creepy, unwanted physical touch/harassment, abandonment, panic attacks

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3 | MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

A/N: Once again, a huge thank you to @her-satanic-wiles & @angellayercake for workshopping and beta reading this fic with me! I live for their reactions every time I sent them an idea or a draft... 🤭 This chapter got away from me, as so many do, and ending up pretty damn long... Enjoy!

He had to be quick. Any longer, and he might be chased out. But he couldn’t help himself... he wanted to look, to touch...  

“HEY!” A gruff male voice shouted from somewhere behind him. Mary startled, stumbling back and shoving his hands in his pockets. “These are for people who know what they’re doing, not little hooligans!”  

The store clerk came rushing over, coming in between Mary and the beautiful Gibson Les Paul on display, hung up on the wall amongst the others. The body shone in a stunning hue of deep red wood, orange bursting from the fret board. He’d always dreamt of owning a guitar like this – or any at all. He just wanted to pick one up, to learn, to play.  

“S-sorry mister... I didn’t mean to-” 

“Go on, out with you! Comin’ in here every damn day, gettin’ in the way of my customers. Go on, get!” The old man shooed a 10-year-old Mary out of the store, shutting the door in his face and folding his arms behind the glass, watching until Mary finally sagged his little shoulders and sighed to himself, trudging down the sidewalk with his head hung low.  

Other people were allowed in to look at the guitars, to touch them, test them; why wasn’t he? Sure, he knew he was a kid but he wasn’t a bad kid... He knew he could never afford a guitar like that Les Paul, but oh how he dreamed of owning his own guitar. Just a little acoustic thing to practise on. He'd put in the work, he’d swear it. He just wanted to learn.  

Still, Mary headed home with his hands in his pockets and his head hung low, avoiding the eyes of the adults around town who looked down on him with looks of either disgust or pity; he was never sure which was worse.  

“Mom?” he called out as he walked into the small and run-down little apartment block on the edge of town. They’d had to move in here almost a six months ago after his father left, unable to afford much else on his mother’s salary; her job at the local diner didn’t pay well. 

Music from the radio filtered through the hall, along with the smell of yesterday’s spaghetti being reheated on the stove. “In here, baby,” a weak shout came from the kitchen. She sounded weaker with each week that passed, barely eating and drinking far too much to be considered healthy at all. Mary had spotted that, not totally understanding the ramifications of it at his tender age but he was wiser beyond most 10-year-old’s years. That’s the thing about a shitty childhood; you grow up quick. 

Still, he was grateful his father was out of the picture now. Honestly? The lesser of two evils. It was better him gone than be here still, hurting everybody around him. 

Mary headed into the kitchen, sitting down at the small table for the two of them and waiting patiently as his mum stirred the pot over the stove, her back to him. He watched as her left hand lifted a glass from beside the stove; a wine glass, half-filled with the cheapest red on the market. 

“Good day?” she asked, looking briefly over her shoulder. Mary just shrugged; he hadn’t paid much attention in school, and he didn’t want to tell her about being chased out of the music store. Although he wasn’t sure what he’d done to get kicked out, he still lived under the assumption it was somehow his fault.  

His mother hummed along to the radio as she heated their food, taking gulps of the wine to her left and refilling it before plating up two small bowls of food – hers noticeably smaller – and sitting opposite Mary as she placed them down. 

“Thank you,” he smiled at her shyly, never forgetting his manners as he tucked into his meal. His mother smiled fondly at her boy, twirling her fork in the pasta noodles as she sipped her wine. The radio played to fill the silence, songs from another decade that had his mother reminiscing over happier years. 

As he chewed, he thought back to that guitar, how he’d do anything to have one like that. But he’d settle for a smaller, cheaper, second-hand one. He’d be delighted with one. He just wanted to learn how to play, and then maybe one day, his mom could hum along to his songs on her radio.  

“Ma, I think I know what I want for my birthday...” 

“Oh? Well good! I was wondering when you’d give me some ideas,” she smiled. Mary hesitated, chewing his lip. Was he asking for too much? Perhaps, but he had to try at least. “Come on, baby, what is it?”  

“Well... can I get a guitar? Not like, an expensive one or anything... Just second-hand or something. I wanna learn to play, Ma. I think I’d get real good at it!” he rambled, his excitement barely contained as he thought about how people might change how they saw him if he could prove he was good at something, that he could work hard and prove himself.  

His mother’s smile faltered, fading as she dropped her fork against her bowl and grabbed her wine glass, finishing the rest of it off and pouring herself another hefty glass.  

“Baby, guitars aren’t cheap, even the second-hand ones...” she began, her voice quiet and full of regret. 

“No, I know, but I thought, maybe if I could get a job somewhere, I could mow lawns or something, maybe help Mr Rogers at the carpenters or get a paper route, then maybe I could-” 

“Baby you’re ten years old, you should just be a kid as long as you can,” she smiled sadly, her eyes betraying her as they glassed over with tears. It broke her heart to see her little boy so desperate to be a man, to help her, to help pay for his own damn birthday present.  

“I... I can still be a kid, I just thought I could help?” he questioned. 

“I just don’t think I can afford it baby...” Mary’s shoulders slumped, his own fork dropping into his bowl as he sat back against the chair in defeat.  

“Could you stop buying wine for a little, Ma? I just really want a guitar... And then you can get more again. Just for a bit, I promise!”  

If her heart wasn’t already breaking for her little boy, it did then. The guilt rose like bile in her throat, her eyes staring at the bottle on the table, her glass emptied again and the taste lingering on her tongue. She’d had her own selfishness reflected back at her, a mirror held up to the truth; the truth being that her lips were stained with the red of her addiction, paired with her sunken eyes, bearing the weight of her sorrow. 

She should try, she thought to herself. For him, for her little Mary. He never asked her for anything, and the one thing he wants in the world for his birthday was a crummy little second-hand guitar? She should be able to give him that; as a mother, she wanted to give him the world. He certainly deserved it after all he’d been through.  

“I-I’ll... I’ll try, Mary. I’ll really try,” her voice cracked, swallowing the guilt down and forcing the tears to recede. Mary nodded to himself, looking down into his bowl and back to hers that even untouched, still had less in than his half-eaten leftovers.  

He stood up, the bowl in his hands and placed it down in front of her. She needed to eat more, he thought.  

“Oh, baby no, it’s okay. You should ea-” 

“I’m not that hungry, Ma. Please take it.” 

She stopped protesting, nodding as she held a shaking hand out to hold his cheek, stroking her thumb over the pudge he was yet to grow out of with a gentle smile.  

“Thank you, angel,” she told him, pressing a wine-stained kiss to his forehead. “I promise, I’ll try harder.” 

Deft fingers plucked at the strings of a battered old acoustic guitar. The wood was splintering where the neck met the body, the varnish worn down in places that hands would dance over as it had been played to within an inch of its life. Stickers littered the body, hiding nicks and damages from over the years but they too were beginning to wear down to white patches of nothing.  

Still, she sang like a dream the way she always had. Mary’s skilled hands worked her strings mindlessly, drifting from riffs he’d learned of his favourite bands over the years to riffs of his own he’d written – the most recent sounding much more melancholy than he’d anticipated.  

Sitting in his dimly lit studio apartment, he reclined against the wall at the head of his bed with his first guitar in his lap. His intention had been to drift off into his own world, to write some riffs for songs he could present to the guys and form into tracks for upcoming shows, but he’d been unable to focus, his fingers working on muscle memory alone as his head drifted to the same thing he’d thought of for the last few days.  

He’d had time to calm down, for the fog of anger to dissipate and now he’d entered the reflection stage. The anger morphed into hurt, reminded once again that no matter if you wanted him or not, you still were ashamed to be seen with him. He didn’t fit your image, his mere existence in your life was inconvenient and a black stain on your pristine white image.  

He wondered if cleaning himself up was an option for a brief moment. What if he didn’t paint his face? What if he wore a shirt instead of his cut off band tees? What if he styled his hair different? All the ‘what if’s swam around his head, but they’d be lies. Mary was many things, but never a phony. He refused to bow down to public opinion and become one of the masses if it meant sacrificing everything that was genuinely him.  

He decided he’d rather be hated for who he was, than adored for something he wasn’t. Which is exactly the life you were living. 

You’d chosen a world where people loved you, fell at your feet to be known by you and yet somewhere along the way, you’d sacrificed whoever you truly were, covered it up with bows and frills and shiny trinkets. He almost felt sorry for you.  

Still, he couldn’t swallow the nagging feeling that he’d done something wrong, that he was letting you slip through his fingers. He wasn’t dumb; Mary knew there was more to you than this image. He’d seen glimpses of it, this vulnerable yet feisty woman clawing at you from inside. Frankly, you drove him crazy. He'd never wanted anything for himself so badly in his life, except maybe the guitar in his hands. He couldn’t lay his eyes on you without wanting you; perhaps up until recently, he thought that was simply physical attraction, a need to take you and have you both coming undone together.  

But the way you plagued his mind, how he thought of you during the smallest moments of peace to himself... he was beginning to understand he’d formed a kind of connection with you he couldn’t begin to explain. But he was starting to recognise a feeling within himself that stung like rubbing alcohol on a wound, a feeling that shot him right back to his childhood, to a place so painful he’d shoved it down and ignored it for years.  

Before he could go down that route, his shook his head to rid the memories and lay his guitar gently beside him, reaching for his smokes on his nightstand. Lighting one up with his zippo lighter, he rested himself back against the wall, swiping a hand down his face in exasperation. He’d spent too long on this, too many moments infiltrated by thoughts of you.  

If Mary was being honest with himself, he only had to ask himself one simple question; were you worth compromising everything he knew about himself? Were you worth him changing himself, becoming something he wasn’t so he could be ‘acceptable’ in your world? 

No.  

Because that was a world that would only ever see him as a delinquent. They had when he was a child, a teenager and now into adulthood. The second they’d known who his father was, who his mother was, they’d judged him. That would never change, so why should he? 

The town hall ballroom was the last fucking place you wanted to be at any given moment, let alone when it was filled with governors, police chiefs, politicians and seedy businessmen. If you’d had your way, you’d have stayed tucked up in bed, like you’d spent most of your spare time in the last week or so since the Bicentennial fair. Facing reality was something you’d tried to avoid, but that wasn’t going to be possible for Daddy’s big dinner party for all the town’s biggest officials. 

No, you were to be paraded like a shiny trophy daughter tonight, mingling with the rich and seedy underbelly of your father’s political career. These people made your stomach turn and your skin crawl. You observed them from the corner of the room, a glass of prosecco in a hand covered by white satin gloves to the elbow, in a fancy, floor-length, glittered evening dress of the same pale peach colouring as the bubbly. Your mother had picked the outfit, “elegance with a touch of sparkle” she had said. 

Watching them mingle and chatter away, you could barely help the expression on your face turning to one of vague disgust. Your father made his way around the room, shaking hands and rubbing shoulders with the elite while your mother followed in tow, laughing at all the jokes she must have heard a thousand times over the years and nattering with the wives in the room about the latest gossip.  

Shallow; all of this was so fucking shallow. But the worst part? This was your future. Your mother... her life was the future your father had paved for you, expected you to walk. You couldn’t think of anything worse.  

“Pumpkin! Come and say hello to Mr. Nelson,” you father flagged you down from your inner monologue of disapproval, notably stood with an old man you recognised as the town’s previous Mayor. Mr. Nelson had handed the title over to your dad when you were little, staying a consistent advisor in the governing of the town’s affairs ever since his retirement six years ago.  

You’d never liked him. There was something untoward about him, sleazy and manipulative; but that’s politicians for you.  

You knocked back the rest of your prosecco glass for a bit of liquid encouragement and walked towards them with your prettiest fake smile on.  

“Good evening, Mr. Nelson,” you said, taking his outstretched hand to shake. 

“Good evening, my dear!” He didn’t let go of your hand like you’d expected, instead tightening his grip and pulling you to lean forwards so he could press a whiskered kiss to your cheek – or what was actually closer to the corner of your lips. When he leaned back, he winked at you, still keeping hold of your hand to lift it, unashamedly scanning his eyes over your body in your dress and twirling you like a doll on a music box. “My, my... how you’ve grown, hm?” 

Your eyes locked onto your father, who was smiling at you fondly as if there wasn’t a problem. You, however, were exceedingly uncomfortable. You looked back to Mr. Nelson, smiling and acting the part. Honestly, you’d always wondered if acting would be a good career for you; you did it often enough.  

“Quite the beautiful young lady these days,” Mr. Nelson commented, letting go of your hand and coming to stand beside you, a hand resting on the small of your back as he turned to speak to your father.  

“She gets all that from her mother, of course,” he smiled proudly, squeezing the shoulders of your mother beside him, who swatted him with her own gloved hand.  

“Oh, stop it, you charmer,” she laughed. You recoiled from the interaction, uncomfortable that there was still a hand on you at all, let alone on the small of your back. 

“Your father was telling us about your college days; quite impressive, my dear!” Mr. Nelson said, his hand patting just above the curve of your behind.  

“Y-yeah... I mean, thank you, sir,” you smiled graciously. How could you get out of this?  

“Now, if only we could find her a nice man to settle down with,” your father joked, your mother smiling along with him as Mr. Nelson chuckled.  

“I’m sure that won’t be difficult, hm? Plenty of fine men about town. Any catch your eye?” he asked, looking down at you with a raised white eyebrow.  

Instantly, your mind flew to Mary. Certainly, he was not the kind of ‘fine man’ Mr. Nelson or your father would envision for you; in fact, you’re sure they would recoil in horror, but you couldn’t help but think of him. Any opportunity for your brain to remind you of how painfully you’d fucked that up, it would take.  

You took too long to answer, head full of Mary as it so often was.  

“Pumpkin, Mr. Nelson asked you a question,” he insisted with an expectant nod of his head.  

“Oh, not to worry. She clearly has somebody in mind, if the mere mention of a man has her daydreaming about him, hm?” he chortled, his hand now slipping lower to pat at the curve of your backside. Instinctively you jumped forward half a step to get away from the unwanted contact, head whipping to your father in the hope he’d seen that, that he’d step in and defend you. But of course, he didn’t.  

“Pumpkin? What’s gotten into you, hm?” His glare was disapproving, his eyebrow quirking as he waited for your answer, but an awkward silence fell on the four of you instead.  

“I, um... I’m so sorry, I think I lost my balance. These, uh, damn heels, that’s all,” you laughed nervously, averting the eyes of everyone around you.  

“Perhaps a little too much bubbly,” Mr. Nelson accused, tipping his head towards your empty flute in your hand.  

“Y-yes, maybe... Perhaps I need some air. Would you excuse me?”  

You were turning and leaving before your father could stop you, shoving the glass in your hand onto the tray of a waiter on your way to the door, ignoring the calls of “pumpkin!” behind you, sounding aggravated and embarrassed. Heads turned to watch you leave but you couldn’t look at them, overwhelmed and uncomfortable. You just had to get out.  

You headed directly for your father’s office, a small and private space to collect yourself before inevitably having to go back to the ballroom sooner rather than later, lest your father come looking for you.  

Finally alone and in a quiet spot, you slumped into your father’s chair behind his desk, spinning absentmindedly from side to side guided by your stiletto on the ground. You focussed on breathing, helping to subside the panic that had risen in you. Bad enough you’d been forced to come to this thing, let alone subjected to the wandering hands of a man who’d known you since you were barely out of diapers. This evening was the nightmare you’d expected it to be.  

Looking around your father’s office, it hadn’t changed much. The American flag stuck in his pen cup, the portrait of President George Washington on the wall, the photo frame on his desk that housed a very official looking family portrait taken when you were still in middle school. 

This was your life. This façade of pomp and circumstance, governed by sleazy men and dodgy business deals... this was all you could see for yourself. No wonder you were clinging onto Mary by your perfectly manicured fingernails, allowing him back in so easily whenever there was room in your mind. He was the antithesis of that horrendous life already mapped out for you. He was the embodiment of freedom to you, someone that lived their life governed by them and them alone.  

He liked dark things, heavy music, grungy clothes. He didn’t restrict himself, lived freely, chasing the dreams he so obviously strived for. He didn’t care what people thought of him, he lived his truth.  

You wished you could live like that. 

Lost to your musings and memories of brief encounters with Mary, you startled at the sound of the door to your father’s office slamming shut, with him stood before it. He’d come alone, his arms folded over his chest in his crisp tuxedo, and a hardened look of fury in his features.  

Your stomach dropped and you sat upright immediately; this wasn’t going to be pretty. 

“What the hell was that?” he asked, his voice just above a whisper and yet spat through clenched teeth. 

“Daddy, I just... Mr. Nelson, he-” 

“Don’t you ‘daddy’ me. Do you realise how embarrassing that was for your mother and I?” he scolded. You swallowed your words, thrown right back to being told off as a child. “Mr. Nelson thinks you were drunk. Are you?” 

“No, daddy, I swear!” you protested, having only drank two glasses... on an empty stomach and faster than a shot of your favourite flavour schnapps.  

“Then explain why you were so damn rude to him, hm?” he raised his voice, stepping towards you and leaning down on his own desk by his palms.  

“He put his hands on me! He’s a creep, dad!” you matched his volume, defending yourself. Your dad just scoffed at you, shaking his head in disbelief.  

“He’s a respected member of this community. One bad word from him, and this could all be over for us. My career, our way of life, everything! Do you understand that?” he shouted. How silly of you to think your own father might take your side when one of his creep associates lay a finger on you.  

“It was a knee-jerk reaction, he touched my ass dad, like some fucking pervert!” you yelled back, standing from his chair and finding the guts to finally answer back, to fight for what was right instead of pander to him. Mary would be proud. 

“You watch your mouth, young lady. I am your father-” 

“YES! YOU ARE! And as my father, I thought you might stand up for me, oh, I don’t know, maybe be disgusted when some old man lays a hand on your daughter’s ass!”  

Your father lifted an accusatory finger at you, wagging it in your face as if scolding a bad dog. “He was talking to you about your future. A future that he can take away with a snap of his fingers.” He demonstrated with the hand he waved wildly in front of you. “You’re lucky your mother has such a way with words...” 

“You mean she’s a good liar,” you laughed humourlessly. “Suppose you have to be in this kind of life...” His face paled, his eyes darkening and appearing to sink further into his skull as he stood up straight, his brow furrowing. 

“I have worked for over two decades to build us ‘this life’,” his voice deepened, darkening considerably as he loomed over you. “Look around you. Do you think this just happens? I have done nothing but provide for you, you ungrateful little girl.” 

“This is the problem... I’m not a little girl anymore, and you still treat me like I can’t think for myself. I’ve got my own mind, things that I want to do. Do you give a shit about that at all?” The anger inside you you’d caged up for too long was surfacing, the heat on that simmering pot turning up with every word out of your father’s mouth. Already you were too far gone to reel it back in. Whether he liked it or not, he was going to hear this. 

“I give a shit about this family!” he screamed. “I will not allow you to tear it all down in some childish tantrum!” 

“Tear what down?!” you protested, “I just want to be able to do something for myself for a change, to start my life! It’s got nothing to do with your prestige as Mayor, I just want to be able to finally crawl out from under your shadow!" 

Your father ignored you completely, still only seeing the pigtailed little girl from the portrait on his desk standing in front of him. He had no idea she’d grown up before his very eyes. He’d blinked and missed it, too damn focussed on his own career and image to notice.  

“You selfish little brat. You don’t get it, do you?” he sneered, “This is MY TOWN! MY LEGACY! You will live by MY RULES!” 

And truthfully, that was all it was ever going to boil down to. His fucking legacy.  

You sagged your shoulders in defeat, tears begging to fall out of anger. Everything you thought your dad still believed, he’d proven to you in just a few minutes; you were still a child to him, and his legacy was more important than your own happiness. Nothing you could say would win this fight. Nothing would make him see how badly he was hurting you.  

You took a deep breath, composing yourself to speak a little calmer, more collected. With emotions heightened, it was easy to yell and scream back at him, to get carried away but you were determined to show him this was not some ‘tantrum’. You meant this.  

“What if I don’t want to do that anymore?” you asked, staring him straight in the eye. The air seemed to thicken around you as you waited for it to soak in, for him to hear you, process, and respond. The silence was suffocating.  

“I’m sorry?” he asked, turning his head to present his ear as if he hadn’t heard you, but he most certainly had. He just wanted you to repeat yourself, testing you, warning you; did you have the balls to say it again? 

“What if... I don’t want to live by your rules anymore?” You spoke calmly, methodically. You will listen, you thought to yourself. 

Your father straightened up again, his head twitching as he tidied up his cuff links, straightened his bow tie and slicked back his hair before he gave you the time of day. This was just a part of his intimidation, his macho technique, reminding you he was a distinguished man, one with power. When he finally looked you in the eye again, his face was set in stone.  

“Then you can get the hell out of my office.” 

Like a punch to the gut, it knocked the wind right out of you. He wanted you to leave.  

“F-fine...” you stuttered, walking around the desk as if to head for the door, pulling your cell phone out of your clutch, “I’ll get one of your lap dogs to take me home, and we’ll talk about this in the morning,” you told him, trying to keep a modicum of dignity, prove to him you were an adult and taking the moral high ground. But your father laughed... 

“I don’t think you heard me. Perhaps you didn’t understand...” he turned around to face you, now stood by the door to his office. “This is my town, Pumpkin. This whole town is my office.” 

The weight of what he was saying fell like a barrel of hot tar over you, the scorching, searing pain radiating through you. You stared in disbelief, waiting for him to laugh, to tell you he was kidding, just pushing your buttons to see your reaction but nothing... He just stared at you, as you stared at him, like a deer in headlights. 

“Y-you’re not serious...?” you dared to whisper, shaking your head in denial. 

“Deadly. Get out,” he growled, “or do I have to call security?” 

Those angry tears turned into streams now falling down your cheeks silently while you were unable to blink, processing his command until your body moved of its own accord, reaching for the doorknob and opening it behind you.  

“I’m sure your precious town will love to hear about this,” you threatened, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand. He just smirked and folded his arms over his chest again.  

“Careful, Pumpkin. Daddy’s got one hell of a legal team; and they’re all eating out of his palm in that ballroom tonight.” 

He had you beat. Checkmate. Every credible lawyer – and the seedy ones – were on his damn payroll. You couldn’t win this no matter what you did. You just had to walk away...  

And so, you did. Quietly, you slipped out from the opulent town hall and found yourself stood on a street corner a couple of blocks away, out of the sight of not only your father and his invitees behind the huge windows of the ballroom, but out of sight of his cronies, already given the instruction to make sure you left quietly, and didn’t attempt to come back in. 

You were alone, as you had become so accustomed to being. 

Every riff felt wrong. For over a week now, Mary tried to write something new, something fresh that he’d never heard before, that excited him and inspired him but... nothing. He was beginning to think he’d lost his touch. He knew he couldn’t force inspiration to come, but this was a longer, drier spell than even he was used to... 

He reached for his pack of smokes on the nightstand where they usually sat, only to discover he was fresh out – that last cigarette had truly been his last.  

“Shit,” he cursed to himself, crushing the empty box in his palm and throwing it in the general direction of the trash can, hitting the rim and bouncing off to the floor beside two or three other crumpled cigarette boxes from the last few days.  

Whew, he thought to himself, smokin’ more now, too. Awesome. Still, ignoring the mess he’d neglected to tidy, he stood up from his bed with a stretch, abandoning his tattered acoustic on his bed. His leather jacket that he’d slung over the back of his couch still held his keys, wallet and cell phone from his last outing to the gas station, and so he slithered his arms into the sleeves and headed for the door.  

He knew he didn’t need to take the van to travel the four blocks to the gas station on the edge of town just for cigarettes, but there was something about a late-night drive that calmed Mary. It always felt like one of those rare moments where he got to be himself; a decent band on the stereo and some open road to clear his head.  

He also knew he didn’t need to go all the way to the gas station for smokes; the convenience store on the corner would do just fine. Except, Forrest usually worked the late-night shifts at the gas station, and he’d get to take advantage of his staff discount. 

“Hey man!” Mary called out as he walked into the store, the bell dinging above his head. Forrest looked up from the magazine he was reading, slumped over the counter. 

“Well, look what the dogs dragged in...” Forrest smirked, “where’d you fuck off to the other night?” 

Ah. He’d never explained where he’d disappeared to the night of the fair, nor had he seen any of his friends since. He hadn’t realised he’d shut himself off for that long, but seemingly, he had. 

“Oh, uh...” he stammered, thinking up an excuse.  

“Some chick got your attention, huh?” he stood upright and folded his arms, leaning against the edge of the counter. “I don’t know how you do it, man. You got ‘em lining up out the door. You shoot strawberry milkshake outta that dick, or what?” Mary relaxed instantly, his alibi already created for him.  

“Why, you wanna taste?” he mocked, shooting a flying kiss at him as he stepped up to the counter in an overly camp, seductive walk to make the other laugh. 

“I’ll stick to the slurpie machine, thanks,” he joked, pretending to gag at the thought of Mary’s strawberry milkshake. “You need somethin’, or you just here to entertain me?” 

“Outta smokes,” Mary shrugged. “I’ll grab the usual.” 

Forrest nodded, turning his back to fish through the cigarettes that lined the wall behind the counter, coming to the brand Mary would usually purchase. Mary looked to his left, seeing a special offer on party size bags of Takis and an array of candy bars. He chucked a bag up on the counter with some candy and fished inside his jacket for his wallet as Forrest rung him up.  

“Big plans tonight, huh?” 

“Oh yeah, big night in with my favourite girl, Mary Jane,” Mary waggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Explains the snacks, you always did get munchies worse than any of us...” he laughed, punching his employee code into the register to add his discount; something he did without thinking these days. Mary was always grateful. “$15.75” 

“Thanks, man,” Mary handed over a twenty, shoving the change back in his wallet just as his phone started to buzz in his other pocket. He whipped it from his jacket, checking the caller ID when his chest tightened.  

You. 

Mary sneered at the phone in his hand, shoving it back into his pocket with a scowl on his face. If Forrest noticed, he didn’t question it, probably assuming it were a telemarketing scam.  

“We should get a practise in before Saturday,” Forrest suggested, “I think Davey’s free on Tuesday? And I'm off too.” Mary hadn’t forgotten; they had a show to play in the city, some new goth club were having a metal night, and word of Mary’s band was starting to spread beyond the scene they’d been playing for the last two years. 

“Uh yeah.” His phone stopped buzzing in his pocket. He ignored the feeling of disappointment in him, that gnawing voice in the back of his head that told him he should have answered it. “Yeah, I think I’m free. You wanna see if Jed’s about?”  

Forrest made a noise that sounded vaguely like an affirmative as Mary picked up the bag with his purchases inside.  

“Alright, uh...” Mary’s phone began vibrating in his pocket again, barely any respite since the last call. He ignored it, trying to claw himself back to reality instead of letting his mind drift to whatever you could possibly be calling him for. He was sure it was only one thing, anyway. “Let me know, man!” 

“Yeah, see ya!” Forrest grinned, shutting the register with a ping and picking up his discarded magazine as Mary turned and left, the bell dinging above the door again. He stood outside for a moment, fishing his phone out of his pocket and seeing that it was indeed your name that flashed on his screen.  

Once again, he ignored it, shoving it this time into the back pocket of his jeans and skulking back over to his van, parked in a bay near the door. It stopped just as he wrenched the door open with a rusty creak, throwing his bag into the passenger seat. He climbed in behind it, slamming the door shut and settling into the seat as he shoved the keys into the ignition. As he turned them and the engine roared to life with his stereo, he took a deep breath, leaning back against the head rest and desperately willing the thoughts of you to leave him be. 

He’d wasted too much time on you already, and he meant what he’d said last time. He was tired of being everybody’s dirty little secret, and he wasn’t about to answer your fucking booty call. Not again.  

Reaching into the plastic bag beside him, he pulled out his carton of cigarettes and ravaged the packaging until he could pry one from the box and shove it between his lips, pushing the lighter button in on his dashboard and waiting patiently for it to heat. Closing his eyes, he waited for the telltale click, reclining into his seat, when his phone began to buzz in his back pocket once again.  

Mary’s eyes shot open, anger coursing through his veins. Were you that desperate to get laid? It wasn’t fair. He thought he’d made it clear where he stood, that he wasn’t interested in being picked up and dropped whenever someone felt like it anymore. He had to start thinking less with his dick and more with his head – and his heart. 

But you were not getting the message – ignoring your calls wasn’t working. Maye he just needed to say it in black and fucking white.  

Muttering curses to himself, he fished his phone from his back pocket where he sat, seeing that the caller ID did indeed read “Doll” again. He turned the volume of his stereo way down, took a deep breath, and answered the call.  

“Look, I’m really not interested in being your booty call, Barbie,” he spat down the microphone, “so you might wanna just give it up now before you embarrass yourself.” 

He was met with silence. He almost wanted to laugh, picturing the look of sheer shock on your face as you sat surrounded by your pink frills and stuffed animals in that ivory tower of yours. But instead, he waited. Would you dare speak? Argue with him? He’d managed to rile himself up enough by this point that maybe a fight was exactly what he needed to expel the rage.  

The silence continued for a beat too long, and confusion set in. His brow furrowed, checking his phone screen to see if you’d hung up but no, you were still connected. He lifted the phone to his ear again, waiting... and then he heard it. 

A sob.  

A sob so small and timid, he thought maybe he wasn’t supposed to have heard it. But instantly, his face paled, and his chest hollowed. Every muscle in his shoulders that had tensed in his anger when he picked up the phone instantly turned to jelly. He’d expected resistance, maybe a “fuck you, Goore” or something to that effect. He’d expected an argument, rage, denial or defence.  

He waited again, clicking the side button on his phone to turn the volume up in case he’d missed it. Now, he heard the sniffles too, along with the shuddering breath from an inhale that sounded uncontrollable. And then another small, suppressed sob. 

He panicked, sitting bolt upright in his seat and pulling the cigarette from his lips as he looked around his surroundings as if there was something, someone who could help. Of course, there was nothing.  

He didn’t expect you to react that way... Perhaps he’d been too harsh, maybe yelling at you wasn’t the right way to go about this, to cut his ties with you before they were truly bonded, but he hadn’t even thought it through. Mary just thought severing it with a quick, clean blow would do the trick... 

“I-I... d-didn't... know who... to call,” you wept down the phone, breathing irregular as if you were suffering a panic attack. “I’m s-s... sorry.” 

Instantly, Mary knew he’d fucked up. You weren’t calling him for a hook up, this was something different. Something had happened. You had already been in this state. And you’d turned to him for help. Mary swallowed a gulp of nothing, now realising his mouth and throat had gone dry whilst his jaw had hung open in bewilderment and panic. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, frenzied. He waited for a response, only hearing more sobs; ones that you clearly were unable to hold back as you tried to speak, to tell him what had happened. Whatever it was, it was bad enough that you couldn’t say it without losing the small semblance of composure you had. You were in no fit state to talk about this on the phone. 

The hand holding the phone dropped to his lap for a moment as he muttered a “shit” to himself, slamming his head back against the headrest. He was really going to do this, wasn’t he? He was going to run right to you, to go and fucking save you with some twisted sense of duty towards you. But then, yes, of course he was; Mary’s saviour complex had kicked in the second he heard that first tiny, frail sob. 

He held the phone to his ear again. 

“Look just... fuck, just breathe alright? Slowly, if you can. I’m coming, just make sure your window’s unlocked,” he instructed you, pressing his foot down on the clutch and shoving the gear stick into reverse.  

“’m not... home...” you sobbed. Mary paused, confused.  

“Well... where are you?” he asked, now more concerned as to what the hell had happened. If someone had laid a fucking finger on you...  

“R-Raynor... street...”  

Dead centre of town; anything could have happened, anybody could have been around.  

“Alone?” he asked, incredibly uncomfortable with the idea of you being alone at this hour in the middle of town.  

“M-mhm...” Mary cursed to himself again, holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder while he used both hands to spin the wheel of his van, quickly looking in his mirrors to reverse out of his parking spot before he could speed off into the night to come and find you. 

“I’m coming, alright? Stay there. Keep your phone close, stay on the line. You keep off the street ‘til you hear me coming, you understand?” His instructions were clear, almost military-like. He needed you to hear him plainly.  

“Oh...kay,” you sobbed, trying to quieten your sobs and regain control.  

“Keep breathing, I’m on my way.” 

Mary picked the phone from between his ear and shoulder and hit the loud-speaker button, throwing it onto his dash so he could drive easier through the streets as he headed into town. Thankfully the roads had been somewhat empty, most traffic lights turning green on the approach and no one to get in his way or flag him down for speeding at this hour. He just needed to get to you, as fast as possible. 

Turning onto Raynor street, he slowed right down and got a good look; you were nowhere to be seen. He prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that you’d just followed his advice, hiding down an alleyway off the main street to keep out of sight of any passersby with bad intentions. He turned his stereo back up, a clear indication that it was him who was driving slowly down the street, watching and waiting for you to pop your head out of somewhere. 

“C’mon, doll... where are you?” he muttered anxiously to himself, looking down every nook and cranny between buildings.  

The music you heard edging closer down the street echoed what you could hear from your phone speaker, telling you that the vehicle approaching was him. A wave of relief washed over you, and you stepped out from between a hair salon and an apartment block near the end of the street. Mary's headlights caught on your dress, the sparkle catching his eye immediately and he sped up until he could break suddenly right next to you, jumping out of his van and running around it to get to you as quickly as he could. 

His hands gripped onto your biceps and he held you out at arm's reach to get a good look at you; carefully placed make up had streaked from your tears, black rings forming around your eyes where your mascara had run. Your eyes themselves were bloodshot; how long had you been out here like this before you’d called him? You shivered in his hands, the cold of the night getting to you in this dress that left your arms and shoulders exposed, doing nothing to warm you at this late hour. He didn’t even think, shucking himself out of his jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders where his body heat had already warmed it.  

“Are you hurt?” he asked, cupping your face in his hands and swiping the tear tracks away with his thumbs. You shook your head no, another sob rising in your throat now that he was here. You weren’t sure what you had been expecting, his initial reaction to your phone call clearly indicating he was still very much mad at you; not that you could blame him. But it didn’t escape your notice that he had come anyway, and the expression on his face was almost one of terror before his eyes had fallen on you, and softened considerably. 

Something in him cared.  

“Alright, come on... get in,” he settled a hand between your shoulder blades, guiding you gently and quickly to the passenger side of his van where he opened the door for you, helping you up. You settled into the seat, curling in on yourself and hugging Mary’s jacket closer to you for the warmth the night had stripped from you as he climbed in the driver’s side. He turned the stereo right down, the music now only to fill a silence rather than to alert you to his arrival.  

“Is there... somewhere you want me to take you?” he asked, an awkwardness coming over him. He had no idea how to react in this situation, no clue what had happened or why you’d called him of all people when you had an entire security team on your side. 

You seemed to think about it for a moment, a fresh wave of tears trickling from your eyes and dripping to your lap when you looked down in an attempt to hide your face.  

“I... don’t have anywhere...” you sobbed, your fists tightening around the edges of Mary’s jacket to have something to ground you while your shoulders shook.  

Mary watched on helplessly, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to reach over, to pull you into him and hold you so you could let out the much more violent sobs you were so obviously holding back. He was so used to the feistier side of you; your smart mouth, your confidence... It’s what drew him in, what attracted him to you like a moth to a flame. This wasn’t you. 

It stirred up a need in him to help, to sacrifice his own discomfort in favour of your comfort. Instantly, he put you first, forgetting any resignations he had about ever seeing you again. That anger he harboured at how out-of-touch he thought you were? It dissipated the second he’d heard the first sob. He’d been triggered like a sleeper cell, instantly needing to patch up whatever wound you’d suffered. 

“You don’t wanna go home?” he asked, figuring he already knew the answer. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. When you shook your head violently, he got the confirmation he needed. “Alright, well...” He was going to regret this, wasn’t he? But he’d said it before he could stop himself. “You could stop at my place for a bit.” Yep, he regretted it. “If it’s not too weird, or anything... I mean, I live alone, if you’re worried about my friends being ther-” 

“Okay...” you sniffled.  

Mary stopped rambling, instead reaching for the cigarette he’d never lit and thrown on his dash with his phone. Once again, he pushed the cigarette lighter in to heat up, adjusting the heating in the van to a warmer temperature too to warm you up. 

“Alright um, sure...” He held the cigarette between his lips, shoving the van into gear and continuing down the street. “There’s a carton of cigs in the bag by your feet, if you want one,” he offered – more to fill the silence between you than anything. The quiet stereo could only do so much. 

You sniffled and reached down to the bag, fishing through the plastic until you found the carton he’d mentioned and pulling one out for yourself hoping it might help to calm you. With a pop, the lighter signalled it was ready, and Mary held it out to you first as he focussed on the road. You lit it carefully with a small ‘thank you’ and settled back into your seat. The first drag helped settle your nerves, the heating in the van calming the shakes you’d had too, although you weren’t sure if that had been the panic or the cold of the night. 

A few streets into the journey back to his place, you couldn’t take the quiet any longer. The awkward air between you felt so stale, icy in comparison to the warmth the van generated. As much as you wanted to relax in his presence – as he up until now had always been able to make you do – you just couldn’t. Not with the elephant in the back of the van, so to speak... 

“I’m sorry... for calling,” you mumbled, still too full of shame to be able to look at him directly, only stealing a glance from the corner of your eye. Mary took a long drag of his cigarette, flicking the ash out of the crack he’d opened in his window. He looked between you and the road, as if thinking through his response a few times.  

“You don’t have to apologise for that. I’m not one to leave a lady out in the cold...” he shrugged. He certainly wasn’t; literally or metaphorically.  

“Thank you for coming, Mary. I didn’t know where to go...” Every time you thought back to the fight with your father, fresh and hot tears would well up in your eyes. It didn’t escape Mary’s notice, and he wanted nothing more than to reach over and squeeze your hand with reassurance. Instead, he settled on trying to lighten the mood a little. Comedy always had been his defence mechanism, after all... 

“Dressed like that? I’d have said... Cinderella’s ball?” 

You scoffed, the first genuine smile he’d seen from you as you shook your head. “Shut up,” you told him.  

“You couldn’t call on the creatures of the forest to come help?” he continued, smirking when he saw your shoulders shaking in silent laughter, elbow propped up on the edge of your window. “Tinkerbell not got any pixie dust left for ya?” 

You reached over and playfully slapped his chest, earning you an ‘ouch’ and an act of feigned pain as he recoiled. But you giggled to yourself, the absurdity of it all finally hitting you. Here you were sat in your sparkly peach gown with your satin elbow gloves, high heels and fancy hairdo, cradled by Mary’s leather jacket in a beat-up van that was old enough to still have a damn cigarette lighter in the dash. Perhaps you were Cinderella... Did that make Mary your Prince Charming, or your fairy God mother? 

Now he’d heard you giggle – something he always loved hearing out of you – Mary could relax a little. There was still an awkwardness between you both, neither one of you could deny that, but the first layer of ice had been broken. For now, that would be enough. If you wanted to talk to him about what had happened when you got to his, then fine. If not, he figured that was okay too. At least he’d know you were safe and had someone by your side who cared about you; and yes, Mary could admit to himself now that he did care about you... 

Just, maybe not to you – not yet. But it wasn’t something he could exactly deny either, when he’d dropped his ‘big plans’ of getting high and demolishing a bag of snacks alone with his guitar the second he’d heard your despair. And all of that in spite of his lingering anger towards you. How quickly he’d flipped that, from wanting nothing to do with you to racing to your rescue. 

Mary’s apartment was small, as you’d expected. As you followed him inside, you looked around. The kitchen sat directly to your left cut off by a half wall to corner it in, a couch that looked like it had seen better days backed up against that half wall and pointed at an old television. Mary’s bed was unmade and pushed up against the far-right corner, facing the bathroom that took up as much space as his kitchen did but was the only room closed off. In the way of bedroom furniture, all he had was a small nightstand and a chest of drawers that had been knocked about some...  

It seemed cosy, lived in. It wasn’t particularly tidy; a blanket strewn over the tatty couch, vinyls laying on top of his little coffee table and around his record player in the corner of his living space, guitars laying up against the wall here and there, an acoustic on his bed, pots and pans stacked up on the draining board in his kitchen – clean, but not yet put away.  

Had Mary known he was having royalty stop by, he might have tidied up a little, but this was how it looked most of the time. He didn’t spend much time at home, especially now that his band were starting to take off a little. But truthfully, he avoided being alone at all costs. He got too much thinking done alone, hence why he had his distraction methods of weed and song-writing.  

Mary scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and went to flick on a lamp by the couch. He quickly whipped around the space, picking up the strewn vinyls, straightening up the blankets. “Sorry about the mess,” he set as he jetted past you towards his bed to pick up his guitar and straighten out the blankets and pillows. You stood awkwardly in the entryway, his jacket still hanging off your shoulders as you picked at your gloves.  

“No, it’s fine, it’s not that bad,” you told him, noting the few personal belongings Mary had too; most notably the little picture frame on a windowsill by the couch. A strikingly beautiful woman, and a goofy little boy snuggled tightly in her lap. Both were grinning into the camera, the boy’s front teeth missing. You guessed that was Mary, and the woman, his mother.  

“Can I get you anything? I don’t know, a drink maybe? Or, uh...” He stood awkwardly, nervously wringing his hands and fiddling with his rings. It was so out of character for him, usually cocky and confident in everything he said or did. In a way, it was quite endearing...  

“Maybe some water, if you don’t mind...” You winced at your own request, feeling like you’d already asked for too much tonight.  

“Yeah... yeah, sure!” He jumped into action, rushing into the kitchen to fetch a clean glass from the cabinet. “Make yourself at home,” he told you, nodding towards the couch he’d just tidied. You walked towards it, draping his jacket over the arm and sitting on the edge of it, playing with your gloves until he came and sat opposite you, handing you a cold glass of water. 

You took it with a thank you, downing a third of the glass once the water hit your tongue – you hadn’t realised just how thirsty the tears and panic had made you.  

“So, um... you wanna tell me why you’re dressed like that?” Mary nodded at your dress, getting himself comfortable and ready to listen. You looked down at yourself, feeling utterly ridiculous now. This was your world... glitter, glam, sparkles; and you despised it.  

“Fancy dinner at the town hall – pompous twats and vile politicians. Mom picked this out,” you scoffed. 

“Huh,” he mused, “I mean, if it helps, you do look pretty...” he shrugged. A warmth rose to your cheeks at his compliment. “The mascara smudges are a nice touch, I think.” You laughed at that, wiping your fingertips along the underneath of your eyes and seeing the black collecting on the white satin. “So... what happened?” 

He asked you so gently, and instantly you felt safe. His gaze wasn’t judgemental, just soft. In fact, it had taken you this long to mentally note that Mary wasn’t made up with his usual faded skull paint and fake blood. His face was clean, you could see every detail. You could see every emotive line, every twitch of his expressions and a vulnerability in him that the face paint usually masked. He had a kinder face than people gave him credit for. Suddenly, you got it. He was putting on a mask every day, just like you.  

And so, you told him. You told him how you’d felt in that ballroom, looking around and seeing the real scumbags of this town. You told him about Mr. Nelson; what he’d said, what he’d done. Mary’s face hardened at that, an anger and protectiveness washing over him that had his fists balling up tightly. You told him how you’d excused yourself, and how your father had followed you to his office. Throughout, he stayed quiet, letting you speak and listening to everything you said. He’d react every so often, fetched you some tissues when the tears had started again. You told him everything, including how your father had screamed at you to follow his rules to not damage his “legacy”.  

“And I told him I didn’t want to do that anymore... I wanted to do my own thing and live for me.”  

Mary’s eyebrows raised in surprise, and he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.  

“Shit... What did he say?” he asked, obviously knowing it hadn’t ended well.  

“Told me to get out of his office,” the tears came again, your voice raising in pitch as you tried to hold back the sobs, “that this whole town was his office. Threatened me with lawyers if I tried anything. So... I just left.” 

“He kicked you out into the street, alone, dressed like that, in the middle of the fucking night?” Mary’s anger was clear, spitting venom between clenched teeth. He couldn’t understand the nerve of your father, how he could be so damn stupid putting you in danger like that. “Fucking arrogant asshole...” 

It was clearer to him more now than ever that he’d been so wrong about you...  

He shuffled closer to you on the couch, cautiously wrapping an arm around your shoulders to comfort you in some way. Truthfully, he wanted to completely envelope you, to hold you and rock you and let you cry and sob and scream if you needed it. But it wasn’t until you lay your head on his shoulder that he felt okay to do so, finally pulling you into him to wrap his arms around you and let you cry into his chest.  

He felt so warm beneath you, his heart rate a little elevated but the thumping kept you grounded as you held onto his shirt, curling into a sparkly little ball in his side. Mary cradled your head to him, stroking your hair and whispering to you about letting go, that you were safe here. 

If he was being honest with himself, he knew how shitty he’d been to you. He’d become far too defensive too quickly, unable to see past his own injustices in his world to understand that your world came with them too. There had been signs of your confinement, of the tight leash you were kept on, but he’d wilfully ignored them, striking them off as privilege. Your bedroom alone should have been a giant red flag; how was a grown woman still sleeping in a child’s bedroom?  

“I’m sorry, doll...” he told you, muttering into your hair as his lips gently pressed to the top of your head.  

“Not on you, Mare. This has been coming for a while...” you sniffled, wiping your tears with your gloves as you snuggled into him a little further, utterly comfortable in his hold. 

“No, I mean...” Mary sighed to himself, “I’ve been an asshole. I got too defensive, thought you were just being a brat or something, y’know? I judged you and I shouldn’t have.” 

Slowly, you sat upright, turning to look at him as his arms fell to his sides.  

“You don’t have to apologise, I get it... I wasn’t exactly good to you either,” you admitted, looking down at his shirt now stained with tears to avoid his eyes. “You were right, I was treating you like I was ashamed of you.” 

Mary sat up straight, clasping his hands together as he nodded in understanding. “We’ve all got our shit, doll.” His eyes drifted to the picture on his windowsill, and you couldn’t help but follow his gaze. You saw how he clenched his jaw, fiddling with the rings on his fingers as sadness crept into his eyes. 

“Who was she?” The question slipped out before you got the chance to stop yourself. From the way Mary tensed up beside you, you could tell it was a sore spot.  

“That’s my mom,” he looked back to you, a sad smile on his face.  

“Is she...?” 

“Dead? No...” he laughed awkwardly. “But she is in a care facility. That’s just the only photo of us I’ve got.”  

You nodded in understanding, not wanting to push the matter. But Mary felt like sharing... You’d been vulnerable with him, shared your shit. Maybe he should share his too, or at least some of it. Maybe you were the only person he could be honest with. You were certainly the only person he’d wanted to get to know him in a long time.  

“She was a drinker. It got worse when my dad left, but he was a waste of fucking space anyway. We, uh, didn’t have a lot...” his eyes flickered to the battered old guitar that now leaned against the wall by his bed, “but eventually her liver kind of gave up, so she’s on dialysis for the rest of her life. She needs constant care, but she’s still with us.” 

“I’m so sorry... no wonder you thought I was just being a brat,” you laughed awkwardly, feeling a little pathetic now. 

“Like I said, we all got our shit. It's not a contest, I just... realised I wanted you to know something real about me.” 

Silence descended over you along with the weight of what he’d just admitted. Mary wanted you to know him. He wasn’t running or hiding himself from you. He’d shared something so personal to him, and you felt that it was something not a lot of people might know about him, if any. Something about you made him feel just as safe as a part of him did for you.  

You looked at him; really looked at him. There was a sadness in his eyes, something you could notice now that you were sat merely inches apart from him with his mask firmly ripped away and laying in pieces on the floor. Whatever wall he usually put up, he’d let down just for you. You felt close to him, unbelievably so. You felt an urge to protect him, defend him. You felt a pull towards him, undistinguished in its meaning but so strong you couldn’t ignore it anymore.  

And as Mary stared back at you, his wounds exposed, he too felt that same pull. Who was he kidding? He’d felt it for a while. How else would he explain being unable to go barely minutes without thinking of you over the last few weeks?  

His eyes flicked down to your lips, heart racing and mind spinning out of control. He’d never felt so exposed. He wanted to kiss you, to show you what he felt in that moment, but it scared him. He already had shared so much, feeling just as vulnerable as he had as a child.  

In your corner, the silence got heavier with every second that passed. If he was going to kiss you, you would let him. You couldn't think of a better way to show him just how much you cared, how close you felt to him; that you truly wanted him.  

Just as you thought he might lean in, he snapped out of his trance, sucking in a breath between his teeth.  

“Well, hey... you can stop here tonight. I can find you something to wear, I’m pretty sure I got something in the back,” he joked, wiggling his eyebrows, “I can take you from riches to rags!”  

He slapped his thighs and stood up from the couch, marching over to the dresser by his bed and rifling through his drawers. You stayed put, thrown off by his sudden escape. From such an emotional, tender moment to him throwing that wall back up, closing up shop... You almost got whiplash from the speed at which he put the brakes on. Disappointment lay heavy in your chest.  

He came back over with a folded t-shirt and some plaid pyjama pants you could tie up to keep them on. “There’s clean cloths in the bathroom under the sink if you wanna wash up, towels if you wanna shower,” he handed you the clothes where you sat. “I’ll take the couch, you got the bed and we’ll figure out a plan in the morning.”  

“O-okay...” you stammered, standing up with the folded clothes. Frankly, you felt a little dazed from his shift in demeanour, but you could hardly blame him either. Sharing that had to have been harder than you first thought. 

You walked past him into the bathroom, locking the door and pulling on the string light to awaken the fluorescent bulb above you. Now catching a glimpse of yourself in his mirrored medicine cabinet, you saw the state of yourself. Make up smeared all over your face, streaks of black running from your eyes to halfway down your neck. They looked bloodshot and tired, staring lifelessly back at you. Your hair had fallen out of place from its fancy updo, and you looked as if you’d been dragged through a cornfield by your ankles. 

Deciding against a shower, you settled for wiping the make-up from your face and taking your hair down, attempting to detangle it with the comb you found in the medicine cabinet. You’d found a bottle of cologne in there too, which when you sniffed, smelled exactly like Mary had smelled the night he’d climbed through your bedroom window. You smiled fondly at the memory, noting how the bottle was largely untouched, still having the price tag on it which only confirmed that he’d bought it and worn it just for you. 

By the time you were done and changed into the clothes Mary had found you, Mary had made himself a makeshift bed from the blanket he’d previously folded on the couch and one of the pillows from his bed. He was already laying under it, having changed into some old shorts and removed his shirt.  

“You can put your dress on the dresser, and I can run out and grab you something to wear tomorrow so you’ve got something other than this to wear,” he called from the couch, sitting up so he could speak directly to you.  

“Thank you. I’ll get out of your hair tomorrow, I’m sure my dad just needs to calm down...” you told him. Mary couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, but also, protective. He wasn’t about to send you home to that, and he didn’t want you to feel like a burden on him either.  

“Sure, if that’s what you wanna do...” he muttered, his lips straightening into a line as he nodded. “Well... get some rest.” 

“Yeah, I will... thank you, Mary,” you told him. 

“Don’t sweat it,” he smiled, laying down on the couch and pulling the blanket over his bare shoulders. Without another word, you placed your clothes on the dresser and crawled into his bed, notably cold without him in it. Mary flicked off the lamp by the couch, plunging the apartment into mostly darkness save for the moonlight and the nearest streetlamp shining through his window. 

The same window where the picture of him and his mother sat.  

He could see it where he lay. In fact, he couldn’t look away. That smile on both of their faces reminded him of a time that was so rare. He could still hear her laughter mixing with his giggles as she’d hugged and tickled him, his grandmother who was long since gone snapping the picture on a whim.  

That little boy didn’t have many memories like that to come. He’d grown up far too soon, knowing how desperately his mother needed the help. His childhood was the two of them stuck out at sea, a hole in their boat – and Mary was the only one fishing the water out with a bucket. Eventually, it was bound to go under, so he worked harder, did everything he could to keep them afloat and yet... it wasn’t enough.  

The world had got him all wrong. When they thought he was bunking off school, he was working for a dollar an hour. When he’d been caught shoplifting, it was for a gift for his mother’s birthday. When he’d dropped out of school, it was to work every hour God sent to keep them from going hungry. When he finally did go off the rails in his late teens, it was after his mother’s liver failed. This poor, grown-up little boy had no one to look after anymore, and he’d spiralled. He was his only responsibility, but he’d never learned to care for himself – just the people around him. He always had to save them.  

Mary wiped the stray tear from his cheek, rolling over to face the back of the couch and will himself to sleep. He couldn’t tell if it was an hour or mere minutes that passed as he lay there, huddled under his old blanket on a couch that poked at his ribs under the cushions.  

“Mary...?” you whispered into the night, testing and hoping that he’d still been awake enough to hear. When he looked up, he saw you sat up in his bed, surrounded by emptiness, hugging your knees to your chest. In the dim streetlight, tear tracks sparkled on your face just like your dress.  

Before he knew what he was doing, his feet had carried him across the room. Tentatively, he sat at the edge of his bed, close enough that he could reach out and tuck your fallen hair behind your ear. Neither of you spoke; there was no need. It was obvious you needed the proximity, both vulnerable and in need of comfort.  

Mary’s eyes flicked between yours and your lips again, hesitating as his mind raced with conflicting arguments for and against giving in. He still wasn’t sure you truly wanted him. Maybe all you wanted in him was a friend, the sex having been a distraction or way to rebel. All Mary knew for sure was that you’d trusted him enough to be the one you called when you were in trouble. He didn’t want to break that trust now...  

But it was like you could see the cogs turning in his brain, the inner argument going on inside him. The battle wouldn’t be won by him alone; you were going to have to prove to him that you wanted him, that he wasn’t just your dirty little secret or some booty call. 

Slowly, you shuffled yourself closer to him, unwrapping your arms from around yourself and instead, pushing his floppy hair from in front of his face, getting a good look at him. That gorgeous face of his sat bathed in the dim light, caught between distant sadness and childlike wonder. With one last flicker down to your lips and back up to your eyes, he caught you smiling softly at him, your fingertips dancing across his jawline.  

And then finally, you leaned into him and pressed your lips gently to his. His eyes fluttered shut just as yours did, and he relaxed under your touch as if his limbs had melted. Mary, now feeling marginally more confident in where he stood, tilted his head to better sculpt his lips against yours. He was so gentle with you, his hands lifting to hold yours against his cheeks by the wrists. As the seconds passed, your lips moved together in tandem, both of you leaning into each other until he was able to wrap a hand around your waist and hold you against him, cradling each other in such a tender moment.  

This was undeniably different to any other kiss you’d shared. There was no move to advance, no desperation, no frantic arousal or rushed passion. This time, you simply held each other, seeking comfort in the affection you had for each other.  

As you parted, you rested your forehead against his, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as he held you still so close to him, not yet willing to let go.  

“Stay with me tonight...?” you requested, hoping he’d have no problem with the idea. Mary just nodded dumbly, overcome with a warm desire to never let you sleep alone again. You reached around you, pulling the blankets off of your lap to welcome him into them. He climbed in beside you, resting his head on the pillows as you, without a second thought, curled into his chest and let his arms envelope you. Neither one of you wanted to be alone tonight after sharing pieces of your soul with one another.  

Exhausted from the outpouring of emotion, you were soon lulled into a deep sleep by his rhythmic heartbeat and natural warmth. Mary, although exhausted himself, was still barely awake when he felt your body go limp against him. He smiled to himself, satisfied in the knowledge that he’d given up a part of himself he was sure he’d never trust anybody with.  

And yet, the wound was still open; spinning with memories, his mind lingered on one in particular, triggered when his tired eyes had fallen on that battered and beat up old guitar against the wall. That thing served as a reminder that Mary had only ever had Mary looking out for him, and that given a choice between himself and somebody else, he would always save anybody but himself... 

Mary waited patiently on the couch, his attention span null and void as the after-school cartoons blared on the TV set in front of him. He sat on the edge of his seat, quite literally, his feet kicking back and forth as he watched the clock. 

With the big hand on the 2, and the little hand on the 6, she’d be home any minute now. So, Mary waited as patiently as he could. 

Except, it wasn’t until the big hand had done a full circle, and the little hand was on the 7, that he heard the keys fumbling in the lock of the front door, followed by a telltale creak, and the slam of it behind footsteps.  

Mary jumped up, already on edge and over-excited. He ran into the hallway, to find his mother leaning against the wall with her eyes shut, head back against the plaster. She looked sick, her skin paled more than usual and her lips tainted with a familiar red stain.  

“Ma?” he asked, placing his little hand on her arm. Her eyes shot open, and she looked down at Mary next to her.  

“There’s my boy!” she slurred, leaning down to smother a sloppy kiss to his cheek. He wiped his cheek in childlike disgust, giggling to himself. “Happy birthday, baby!”  

She stood as upright as she could manage, bringing her purse with her while she stumbled into the living room, into the armchair Mary’s dad used to occupy that faced the TV set. Mary followed, bouncing on his feet with excitement. He’d waited all day for his mom to come home, hadn’t been able to focus in school for even a second. He stood and waited in front of her as she settled into the chair, dropping her purse in her lap.  

“Would you like your present baby?” she asked, smiling through hooded eyes that could barely focus. Mary nodded frantically, his heart pounding in his chest.  

It had been weeks since he’d spoken to his mother about the guitar he so desperately wanted. He’d spent most of his weekends at Mr. Rogers’ workshop, sweeping up wood shavings and running errands for a little bit of pocket money to help his mother save for this exact moment. He couldn’t wait any longer... 

His mother giggled, reaching into her purse and pulling out a small, square-shaped gift wrapped in balloon wrapping paper.  

For a moment, Mary was confused... But this had to be just a decoy. He remembered seeing these CDs in the music store; ‘Guitar Basics for Beginners’, audio instructive lessons that would be far cheaper than real in-person lessons.  

He tore into the paper, throwing the trash to the side and flipped the CD around to look at the front. It was an album; State of Euphoria by Anthrax. Mary’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion, surprised to find it wasn’t what he’d thought.  

“That’s the band you like, right? Or... One of them,” his mother hiccupped, leaning on her elbows with a grin. 

“Y-yeah... thanks, ma.” His tone was unmistakably disappointed.  

“What’s wrong?” she asked, swiping her thumb across his cheek and pinching it lightly. Mary chewed the inside of his cheek, wondering if he should say anything. He wasn’t one to be ungrateful, this was still a pretty great gift. Anthrax were one of the bands he had found he really loved recently. 

“No it’s great, ma, really. Thank you... It’s just,” he paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully, “could I get my guitar now? I read this book that teaches you about the frets and the notes of the strings, and stuff!” His words were rushed in that way over-excited children speed up the longer their sentence becomes. 

If his mother’s skin could pale any more, it did then.  

“Well, I... I couldn’t get the guitar, baby,” she told him, trying to let him down gently.  

“But... I helped Mr. Rogers? I thought we had enough?” he asked, his cheeks heating as if he were about to cry, but he didn’t want to make his mother feel bad by letting them spill.  

“I-I’m sorry, Mary... I needed to use that money...” she shrank back within herself, shame and guilt weighing on her shoulders.  

“For what?” he asked, genuinely confused, his tears building in his eyes. He was devastated... He worked so hard to get the guitar, to prove his mind was made up and he wouldn’t give up on learning it. But his mother just stared at him, her lip trembling as she saw her little boy so heartbroken. 

She knew exactly what she had spent it on; the very thing she promised she’d try and give up. 

“I... I’m s-sorry, b-baby,” she sobbed, tears spilling down her pale cheeks and her chest tightening around her breaths. She broke down, sobbing into her hands and hiding her face from the son she’d just disappointed so tragically. 

Mary wanted to be angry. It wasn’t fair... It was him who worked for that money, him who had tried so hard to help her. She was supposed to be the one adult he could count on, they were a team, weren’t they? He never asked for anything, ever. But just once, he wanted this. But she’d put her wine and God only knows what other alcohol before him again.  

He wanted to be angry. He tried to be. But his mother was hurting, she was crying, sobbing in front of him. She needed help. She was broken. She hadn’t meant to do this... right?  

Of course not. Her alcoholism had just gotten out of control, and unfortunately, addiction is a lonely and selfish ailment. Sober, her mind wouldn’t even think of doing something so selfish. But these days, she was rarely sober.  

Mary looked at his mother, crumpled up and sickly looking, weeping into her palms, and he just wanted to save her. He always wanted to save her.  

“Ma, it’s okay...” he told her, trying too hard for an 11-year-old not to cry. “Ma, don’t cry... I can keep working for one, it’s okay. I like the CD, I really do.” he squished himself between her and the arm of the chair, wrapping his arms around her and cuddling into her. She was inconsolable, sobbing so loudly she drowned out the cartoons on the TV set. She’d lost control of herself, and Mary was the only one around to pick up the pieces.  

“Shh, ma, it’s okay. It’ll be okay!” he told her, squeezing her as tightly as he could. “I’m here, don’t cry.” 

She’d screwed up big time, and whether Mary had chosen to forgive her or not, she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself for this. If she wasn’t already buried up to the neck in a pit of self-loathing, this was the last shovel full of cement to trap her in. 

But Mary had already decided that he’d do what he could to dig her out. She was his mother, she did everything for him that she could... why wouldn’t he help her too? 

A guitar could wait a little while longer. For now, his mother needed him – and he’d work as hard as he needed to save her.  

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8

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[poppadom0912]

Dr Dean Reybold

Warnings: Cancer, chemotherapy, hospitals, evil doctors

Summary: Unfortunately for you, some cancers are genetic. Also unfortunately for you, some doctors don't have good intentions.

A/N: Based on Season 1, episode 5 of Chicago Med (Malignant) and Season 3, episode 10 of Chicago pd (Now I'm God).

So I had this idea towards the beginning of when I first started watching pd and I am not kidding when I say this has been sitting in my drafts for over two years now. I thought I'd finally get to finishing it after a really good day today since the fic I posted like 2 days ago wasn't that nice. Hope you enjoy!!

When your mother died from cancer, it took a toll on your entire family. Everyone was struggling to grieve and the emptiness she left behind was unsettling. Even now, the empty chair at the dining table looked so wrong.

So when you were diagnosed with ovarian cancer seven months ago, you felt extreme deja vu. Life was repeating itself again and nothing good was going to come out of it.

While at work, your patient got a little violent and when you woke up, your dad and Erin were at your bedside. They were in the middle of a case when Hank was suddenly called, being told by Sharon that you were hurt.

Luckily, several tests and scans later, you were perfectly fine, coming out with nothing but a concussion.

Alas, your body seemed to hate you because fast forward two months later and you found yourself in a private doctors office, the man confirming you had ovarian cancer.

Looking your dad in the eyes that night, mustering up everything in you to tell him you had the exact same thing that killed your mother; you could see the world fall apart in his eyes all over again.

From that day on, you did your chemotherapy while going to work. Being a psychiatrist, it didn't entail much physical work and your hours were decreased due to manage your treatment.

But the cancer got worse, that's what your doctor said at least. You probably would've gotten your treatment done at Med since they were renowned for their chemo regimens and it would've been more convenient.

But your doctor was the man that treated your mother. Seven months into your treatment and you found it a little difficult to leave.

*****

So, it was just another day at work.

You near threatened Doctor Charles to allow you to take his place as the psychiatrist for the ED and after lots and lots of convincing, he caved but with the conditions: you took regular breaks, everyone kept an eye on you, don't take such a big load, update him often and not to turn Sharon away when she to check on you.

There was a sudden influx of patients due to a fire and you were finally able to help after Maggie stopped being so annoying very, constantly hovering over you when she wasn't with a patient.

This wasn't anything abnormal - the injured people - but what was weird was the lingering members of firehouse 51 and the arrival of Jay.

In one of the spinning chairs, you pushed yourself over to the group of people huddled at the front desk, curious to what was up and needing to do something after sitting duck for half an hour now.

"Oooh, what's this?" You looked at the zip lock bag in wonder, only opening it when Jay gave you the okay, nodding his head with a smile at your presentable face.

The last time he saw you, you were a struggling mess at your dad's having come back from getting treatment.

After explaining briefly, you gladly opened the bag and scanned the items. While flicking through receipts, you could hear Erin stop in front of you, letting the three of you know it was looking like a suicide. Giving you and Erin some time, Jay and Kelly gave their goodbyes and went back to their respective jobs.

"You look much better." Erin looked you up and down, noticing that your skin was still quite pale, the bags under your eyes were still there even with the makeup and you were wearing your usual bandana, a staple since the hair loss started kicking in.

"Well thank you very much." You said truthfully despite some part of you believing that she was lying and you looked worse than you did the last time she visited you. "How are you?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Erin asked, smiling as she watched you skim over the few items she had no interest in. "I'm fine, everyone's fine. This seems pretty simple which is good, less work for us."

You hummed nonchalantly, her words going through one ear and out the other. "Do you mind if I give these to Dr Charles? I want to get his opinion real quick."

"Sure." Your sister in everything but blood shrugged her shoulders, seeing no harm in getting another opinion. "Just don't lose anything, yeah?"

"Ha ha, very funny." You said smiled sarcastically, rolling your eyes at her undertone as you rolled your chair away to find the head of psychiatry.

*****

It had been a few hours later. The fire incident from earlier was no longer at the forefront of your mind as you busied yourself with your actual patients. Doctor Charles was back in the ED and you had several meetings scheduled.

Signing off a treatment sheet for some new medications, the silence of the psychiatric ward was interrupted by heavy feet rushing towards you.

Looking up, your were caught off guard. You were not expecting to see your dad and Erin again till later in the evening for dinner.

And by the looks on their faces, this wasn't going to be a happy little visit.

In fact, your dad looked conflicted. A myriad of emotions painting his face, so many that you started to get scared. You hadn't seen him look like this since-

"Dr Dean Reybold. He's your doctor right?" Your dad asked, skipping past any pleasantries.

You felt time slowing, almost struggling to hear what he was asking.

You could only nod.

You felt like a child again being scolded watching how he reacted. It was like you had hurt him. Watching him try to compose himself made you want to be sick.

When your dad looked back at you, his eyes bright in unshed tears, you felt your heart stop.

*****

It was a lie.

All of it, everything. It had all been a lie.

It felt like going through the five stages of grief, grappling with the news and the reality of this situation.

You along with way too many women had been lied to and deceived. In your most vulnerable positions, you had all been manipulated just for his selfish, disgusting needs.

At your most emotional, he lied. He used your personal connections, your past with your mother. What a sick sick bastard.

Sitting on a bed at Med, Natalie showing you your test results, you didn't even have it in you anymore to cry. You were just so tired.

Going back home to your dad, you felt like a little girl again. You felt like that five-year-old who would lie about her nightmares just so she could sneak into her parents bed and sleep with them.

His arms opened up instantly and you didn't need anymore prompting. Dragging your feet towards the couch, you sat and folded yourself up, tucking your feet under yourself as you tried to hide and make yourself invisible in your fathers embrace.

Closing your eyes, you told him the news, the inevitable that you both had been dreading. Deep down, some sick part of you wished to have cancer just so that you could feel better, just to not feel like a victim who was a ploy for some psychopath.

His arm squeezed you as your voice became breathy, words shaking as all the emotions all came crashing down once again.

You had been crying way too much recently.

The plans for the future were still a little blurry and you weren't too sure how you were going to cope. Your body needed to heal and go back to being its usual healthy, as if you and so many other women hadn't had chemo and unnecessary radiation pumped into your body for no reason at all.

You had met all the women at the court hearing, seeing just how many women and families he had hurt just like yours.

And for once, being a psychiatrist didn't feel like the most important thing.

You were struggling to grapple with your emotions but the easiest part of it was being a helping hand to them. Perhaps it made you feel better to help the other women, trying to help them mentally when you can't physically.

And your dad and Erin were your biggest supporters like always.

This had brought back so many memories from the past that it was almost too painful to recollect, especially considering you were now at the forefront of the exact same event.

You weren't too sure what the healing and recovery process was going to look like - that's what scared you the most.

But the most reassuring part was that the sick 'doctor' wasn't going to do anymore harm and you had the best family supporting you every single step of the way.

[alitheakorogane]

Freedom's Protection: Please Forgive Me

Summary: Venti tries to visit you while you're still recovering from your injuries and tries to apologize. At the same time, you found out the truth about the Divine Creator from Venti.

This is the sixth part of Mondstadt's storyline for the Reader Protection Squad SAGAU series.

Warning: There are mentions of blood but it's nothing major. Also, there are instances of grammatical errors and incorrect lore because this was written on a whim.

Note: I apologize for the delay, it's been a month or two since I updated this! This draft was been gathering dust for months and decided to add some ideas little by little. To those who are actually waiting for Archon Venti, just be patient, this was cut into parts so this wouldn't be too long for a chapter, I can assure you he will appear in his Archon form in the next chapter (as of this date). I still had to write them, review the next chapter for errors and place some additional ideas.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 (current), 7

You woke up with the most pounding headache you had ever felt in your entire life.

You had no clue what happened, as you were still adjusting to the situation you're currently in. With difficulty, you slowly sat up and looked around the place, ignoring the aches and pains you felt, trying not to shake your throbbing head. By the looks of it and the fact that you can smell the lingering scent of disinfectant, it seems that you were placed in some sort of clinic.

You reached your forehead to calm yourself but were surprised to feel some kind of fabric on your head, possibly bandages wrapped on your head.

You were confused as to why you were lying down on a bed in an unfamiliar room when you were supposed on your room. After all, since the pandemic has begun, you're on online modality and you are supposed to be at home right now, playing Genshin or doing something worthwhile to kill some time. You wondered what place you are currently in and why you woke up with a killer headache.

Suddenly the door opened wide, making you nearly jump up off your bed in surprise. A young woman then entered the room, holding a cart full of medical supplies and medicine. By the looks of it, she looks like a nun... a fancy nun who looks like a nurse. You couldn't help but notice how she looks so familiar to you but you couldn't pinpoint what.

As she closed the door behind her, the young woman saw you try to sit up so she rushed to you and abandoned her cart beside her so she could help you get up.

"Thank Barbatos, you are finally awake..." the young nun spoke up as she grabbed a glass of water from the pitcher she had carried. You gratefully received the glass and drank the liquid, feeling the cold water rushing on your parched throat. You were still groggy from being recently awake alongside the throbbing feeling on your head, so your mind was still as blank as a clean slate of paper.

As you focused your sight on the woman in front of you, a plethora of memories regarding your recent escapades in Teyvat suddenly rushed into your mind, causing you to wince over the throbbing pain in your head. The woman, the lovely Deaconess Barbara, noticed your pained expression so she tried to heal you with her Hydro Vision, but it wasn't as effective as you expected it to be. But at least the pain was slightly reduced due to her efforts.

So your unfortunate trau... adventure throughout Tevyat was not a dream after all. It was real as it had been.

"How long have I been asleep?" You groggily asked the young nun as she was preparing to give you some herbal medicine that you assumed the nuns of the Church of Favonius had made them. Of course, they are not as modern as in your time, and had to rely on healing and elemental magic rather than science and technology to cure people in this world.

You then saw her sprinkle some herbs on the glass of purple juice and waved her glowing hand, signaling that she used her Hydro Vision on the drink.

As she had finished preparing the drink, she then sweetly smiled at you as she offered the glass in front of you, "I hope you like it, it's actually Wolfhook juice mixed with some healthy herbs to help you recover. I even made sure that you can't even taste the bitterness of the herbs I freshly plucked a while ago."

You received the drink and looked at it with a hesitant look and a grimace. The young Deaconess had noticed your strange expression so she cutely giggled, "Don't worry, it has no poison on it, I could assure you. After all, I'm a healer by trade."

Then she crossed her arms with her right hand raised in the air as she waved her finger for emphasis, "And to answer your first question, you have been asleep for two weeks. We are even wondering why you slept that long without food or water."

You were flabbergasted as your eyes looked at the nun as if she had grown a second head, and you should have seen your jaw drop if you were in a cartoon, "WHAT?!"

You still can't believe what you have heard, until you remembered how time flies on Teyvat compared to your world and you suspected that even though you were isekai-ed to the fictional world of Teyvat (which is apparently real in some other universe), you were still bound by your world's time.

You found this out when you first came to this world, when you noticed how you can spend days without food or never slept for weeks. After all, according to the game, 24 hours in Teyvat is 24 minutes in yours.

Barbara nodded as her face turned into a serious look, "But of course, I wouldn't be surprised if you do that, but we're still worried. Based on the ancient book our family had treasured for centuries, which was given and written by Lord Barbatos, the Divine Eminence has been gone, probably asleep, for centuries. And you're actually the Cre-"

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, earning a slightly annoyed look from the Deaconess and a curious look on your face, "I'll be right back."

She went to the door and opened it, revealing a tired-looking bard clad in green and gold accents, his cape flowing through a non-existent wind and you were not surprised that he was currently in his mortal bard form. After all, he has an identity to hide.

He seems to be holding a bouquet of fresh Cecilias and a bottle of apple juice in his hands, a well-thought gift that you assumed he possibly stole from Master Diluc's winery basement.

"Ven-Lord Barbatos!" The young Deaconess exclaimed as she bowed gracefully toward the new visitor. You did the flabbergasted look on your face once again, and by the looks of it, you did it a thousand times already ever since you woke up.

The Archon in question, Venti, entered the room, his beautiful face was struck with guilt and self-loathing as he walked towards you and the young nun, who paved way for the Anemo Archon to come inside the room you were in.

"You can call me Venti and you don't need to bow. I am just a regular bard at the moment," he replied to Barbara with a crinkled smile on his young-looking face, as Barbara blushed in embarrassment over her mistake, but you could see the guilt and child-like wonder in her eyes. You can probably guess that she was still thinking about her embarrassing moments with Venti during the Holy Lyre incident.

He then set the apple juice on the tabletop beside your bed, but he looked around for something to put the flowers in. Barbara could notice the bard fidgeting nervously so she offered her help to place the flowers in a vase, her arms now free from medical supplies she had carried a while ago.

Venti thanked the young nun gratefully while giving the flowers and the apple juice to the young woman, who sensed that you needed some time with Venti. She excused herself to grab some nice containers for these beautiful flowers, leaving you and the guilty Archon in the room.

As Barbara was gone, the young Archon was still standing near the door and fidgeting nervously, as his eyes were staring at the ground and his lips quivered as if he was about to cry. You just sat on your bed with your forehead covered in bandages, your eyes looking at him with a sympathetic gaze.

"Just come here beside me, I won't even bite," you teased him, as you patted your right leg in emphasis, signaling him to sit on the chair beside you. The bard hesitated to follow suit, but you made a puppy eye stare at him, complete with a pout, and he then gave up when he saw you still maintaining the look for minutes. He quietly sat on the chair, but he was still bowing his head down, his eyes were still covered under his bangs.

"I'm sorry for hurting you, (Y/N)," the green-clad bard suddenly apologized up to you for the first time since he came here. Your eyes widened as it was the kind of first time seeing Venti nearly breaking up in tears and begging for forgiveness in front of you.

"I...um," you stuttered out, not knowing what to react.

"I know you can't forgive me, I even knew that even my own people can't forgive me for what I have done," he raised his head slightly as his eyes sparkled in unshed tears, "I nearly killed my own people, (Y/N), and I couldn't forgive myself for that. I could have killed lots of innocent people just like what I had done a few centuries ago. I feared that I was starting to become like Decarabian... Worst of all, I could have killed you, even though I know you're not what I have perceived you to be."

You smiled sheepishly as you spoke back, reassuring the bard that you were fine even though there was still a lingering headache caused by his outburst a while ago, "No need to apologize, in fact, I was grateful that you were one of the people who defended me that time! So don't cry, Venti."

The bard just said nothing, as he sniffled with quivered lips, but you could notice the tears started to fall in his blue-green eyes.

"I supposed that you are really involved in the Cataclysm 500 years ago since you said you had experienced killing innocent people a few centuries ago. The Khaenri'ahns, isn't it?"

Venti looked away in shame as he had heard your remarks, making you wince at the words you just released, so you try to salvage the situation, "I don't want to pry, though. I know it's kinda traumatizing for you after all."

To be honest, you never even knew what happened during the Khaenri'ah disaster, as the game was still in the Sumeru patch, and the nation was still mysterious as it was when the game was first released. All you know is the latest dump info about it in the recent patches, where Nahida once said that the six Archons are involved in the Cataclysm, while she was protecting the Irminsul.

"I guess you know all about that, after all, you're the Divine Creator of Teyvat themselves. You were supposed to know as Celestia must have been doing all of this shit in your honor," Venti whispered but you could still hear him, his eyes still looking at the window behind him, "And here I have thought that you're just an imposter."

Your eyes widened once again, for this is the first time you hear him curse, and his tone suddenly filled with a little spite. Also, the words he had said to you made you a little confused, so you asked him with a confused tone, "Why do you say that?"

Venti shook his head with hesitation before he replied to your question, "The blood, you're actually bleeding in your head because you bumped your head to the floor and it actually glittered gold like the legend says. The Divine Creator in the legends of old was supposed to have the blood of pure gold, with constellations shining in their eyes. I dunno about the constellation thing, but the gold blood we had seen coming from you was the legitimate indication that you are really the legendary deity."

"Fortunately, the citizens had been evacuated to safety thanks to the brilliant minds of Acting Grandmaster Jean and Master Diluc, along with other Knights, and that means not everyone knew about you bleeding an aureate color. But even though Bennett and Razor had to carry you to the Cathedral without gaining attention from other people, we need to have someone look at your wounds and protect you while you're still recovering."

You nodded as if you now understood everything, but deep inside, confusion and doubt was still simmering on your mind. You had known your whole life that you were born a regular human, a normal speck among billions, but being the greatest god of Teyvat that can bleed liquid gold? Last time you remembered, your blood was red. You have been in too many blood tests to confirm that.

You theorized that it has something to do with you being isekai-ed to Teyvat. The phenomenon has made your biology change to fit the essence of the game. Then you suddenly remembered how Barbara reacted when she saw Venti.

"But what about you? Based on Barbara's reaction, everyone now knew who you were..."

Venti rubbed his neck with a sheepish look, "Well, it's bound to happen sooner or later, but honestly, I wouldn't expect that I would be revealed while being in an unstable state."

He then smiled brightly but you could see the empty look in his eyes, "But on the bright side, they now gave me free wine and good food to eat for free. But to be honest, I don't really deserve their kindness after what I did as their absentee Archon who suddenly shows up and tries to hurt them."

You nodded again as you looked at your hands which were still clenching on the blanket covering your legs. Since you were just recently conscious after being knocked out for weeks, your memories of the past events were kinda fuzzy.

Yet, you were curious about what happened after you were knocked out, so you asked the bard, causing him to look at you in the eyes, "Can I ask you something?"

Venti nodded as you took a deep breath and the question was now dropped from your lips.

"What happened after I went unconscious?"

-----

Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @chocolatekuns, @mmajoko, @jaxielous, @mulandi, @code-roevember, @the-real-fandom-person, @dilucpegg3r, @yoascheeksplayin, @kithewanderingme, @justarandomweeblol, @3there4l, @5sos-wdw, @leyla3x0, @totallyntsarcat, @tartarsaucechi1de, @uchihaeirin, @ello-its-me-ya-boi, @konzumeken, @05aaphrodite, @pix-stuff, @osamu-miya-wife11, @bajifairyy, @valka-230, @thedevioussmirk

[vaniloqu3nce]

Yoko Headcanons Pt 3. (this has been in my draft for a while)

Yoko isn’t a big romcom fan but Enid and Divina are so her and Wednesday end up watching them begrudgingly for their girls. That does NOT stop them from complaining though.

Wednesday: Yoko I can feel my brain cells deteriorating.

Yoko: Girl same im getting dumber watching this and I’m already the dumbest person here.

Unlike Enid, Divina helps Yoko study on her own and teaches Yoko little tricks to help her remember things in class. Enid usually just lets her copy.

Though Yoko acts very confident, she does have a lot of insecurities surrounding her intelligence because she’s never been really good at operating in a school setting. Things that don’t immediately capture her attention will often not keep her attention very long.

Yoko can sit and read Wednesday’s books for an hour straight squealing but she cannot take a math test for thirty minutes.

Yoko finds out Wednesday likes Enid (not that she didn’t already guess) because Viper so obviously has a crush on a new character that’s supposed to be Enid.

Enid and Yoko met in their freshmen year, Yoko tried flirting with Enid but Enid wasn’t really interested. Which is how they became best friends.

Young Yoko was a bit more of a menace and much more spoiled due to her wealthy upbringing. She absolutely thought she could have anyone she wanted and Enid was like “I’m not really attracted to you.”

Yoko: Not possible but OKAY.

Enid: Well do you want to be friends?

Yoko: This is literally the most embarrassing day of my life. Yes.

Enid and Yoko are literally inseparable. Yoko is an only child and Enid has only brothers. They’re literally so thankful for each other.

Because of her upbringing, Yoko has a lot of trouble showing and expressing negative emotions. Enid is like a sister to her and is always patient with Yoko when she needs time.

Yoko calls Divina princess, at first it was an insult because she’s stuck up and such, but it grew on both of them. Yoko is very affectionate with Divina when they’re alone, Divina loves it.

Divina: Get up. We have class.

Yoko: Come back to bed, princess. It’s cold.

Divina: Because you’re dead. Get up.

Yoko: You don’t love me.

Divina, rolling her eyes and climbing back into bed with her: You’re right. I hate you.

Yoko: Mhm. :)

Nobody in their right mind besides Enid would believe Yoko is so affectionate and loving because outwardly she is so against relationships and she kicks girls out as soon as they’re done. “I’d call you a cab but you live next door.”

Yoko is in fact only soft for Divina.

I raise you Yoko and Wednesday having a talk about being afraid of emotions.

I raise you Enid and Divina wondering if their girls actually like them because they have those kinds of insecurities and little do they know their girls would die for them without question.

I raise you Wednesday at first being jealous of Yoko until she realizes there couldn’t be anything to be jealous of because all Enid and Yoko do is argue.

Yoko, kicking the door down: Wednesday get your fucking girlfriend shes DOING IT AGAIN

Enid: Babe DONT LISTEN TO HER SHES LYING

Wednesday, sighing: Do you want this chapter done or not, Yoko?

Yoko: with ALL MY HEART MI AMOR

Enid: STOP FLIRTING WITH MY GIRLFRIEND FOR CHAPTERS

Yoko: STOP TELLING MY GIRLFRIEND WHEN I SKIP CLASS

Basically Wednesday was jealous up until she realized they’re basically siblings and they are trying to kill each other at least 90% of the time.

Divina had to win over Enid and Wednesday first. It was like asking for their daughter’s hand in marriage.

Wednesday: What are your intentions with our idiot?

Enid: I will skin you alive if you ever hurt her.

Wednesday: I’m so in love with you.

Thing, Yoko, and Enid have girls nights.

Yoko never liked Tyler either. “He just looks like a card board cut out.”

Yoko actually wants to become a movie director but not many people know that. Specifically horror movies.

Yoko was the kind of kid who would film her own movies on her phone.

Since Yoko has trouble expressing herself, her forms of love come in physical ways. Bumping Enid in the halls, playing with Divina’s fingers in class when she’s distracted, ect.

Wednesday and Yoko actually become amazing friends. They have a lot to bond over. Their love of horror, they both hate Tyler, they both have girlfriends who love them more than anything, they’re both bad at expressing emotions.

[leagueofdccm]

//. Im in drafts currently and getting shit done left and right. tossed two drafts in queue so far, and working on another one-- I will TRY to get all drafts done by next week or in two weeks. SO IF I OWE YOU, HEADS UP they are either in drafts being worked on, or in queue ready to go for y'all lovely peeps of mine. very excited and can't wait !!!! ALSO SOBBING THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT

you know, back in the day, like the old days when huge ass gifs were a thing, and icons didn't exist, it always felt like you HAD TO BE FAST in writing, that you couldn't take long or you'd be a failure. At least, that's how it felt for me. Like if I didn't work on a draft, or meme, or something every single day.... and get shit done on that very day. I'd feel like people would begin to lose interest in me. At least that's how it felt. But that feeling now ? It's so different, and people seem to have more of an understanding that you got real-life shit going on, so it's nice, and it's welcoming. like y'all are amazing and beautiful. I love you guys ;~; <3

[hotnsweetnprimrose]

Who am I? Well,

I'm part boy part girl, boygirl, the protector and mayor of transgenders! Well. Not that last one, that's not an official position nor would I claim it in a non-joking manner. I'm just a silly t4t slut :P

Last Updated: 10/28/2024

My name is Prim or Clark (switch 'em up when it's been a while). I'm 22, I am trans, non-binary, and bigender (androgyne flavor), and I'm here to fuck and get fucked, at least in what ways are possible over the internet. I'm interested in all genders, but have far more fondness in my heart for my fellow trans folk. :P

I'm a HUGE switch and vers!

I prefer they/them pronouns from people who aren't close to me, but once you get to know me, we'll figure it out further :P. I might use it/its for myself while in subspace being a toy, don’t change any of your language in response unless I ask, please!

I strongly believe in trans joy and t4t joy. Transmasc transfem transneutral trans [fill in the blank] we are all so hot and cool. <3 It brings me joy to lend aid whenever and wherever I can. This blog is focused on trans 4 trans first and foremost. Cis people are an afterthought, almost always.

Send me asks if you want! DMs even! I love meeting people! Don't be shy! Unless you're cis, then I have high standards so yes do be shy.

Please don't interact if you're a minor or don't have your age in your bio. I will block you. Immediately. Be patient and you'll have a chance to explore when it doesn't endanger yourself or others.

I also just block liberally if you aren't firmly on the side of t4t solidarity and mutual support. We're all having a hard time out here. (I also will not hesitate break mutuals if you post content that damages my mental health that I can't filter for. This is my safe haven.)

Top Surgery (No Nips!!!! Wahoo!!): 10/16/2024 [if you're seeing this in less than 3 weeks after that date, know my sleep is probably still in disarray and my ability to reply/exist is impaired.]

Anatomical Terms:

clit, tdick, tcock, cunt, pussy = GOOD!

boygirl + any term that's deemed good already= GREAT!!

hole = fine. a bit boring

vagina = BAD! too technical

If I'm dominant in your scenario, call me mastress, mixtress, or captain. Sir is on the table for those who earn it. If I'm submissive in your scenario, call me toy, pet, diminuitive names, or kitten (but only if you make jokes about it :P).

I tag my original things "Prim/Clark~" + [type of post] (space in the middle). My reblogs are tagged by kink/focus when I remember and rambling/my thoughts no matter what. [for specific tags I use for post types/original content, check under the cut for the list] I tag reblogs "primclark rbs" so I can sort them.

More stuff under the readmore including limits, kinks, and other tidbits.

Due to me being bigender (androgyne edition), I try not to reblog posts with "men dni" or "women dni" on them as I feel like that's denying part of my identity. Also out of principle so maybe people will be less broad with those kinds of statements OR remember multigender folks like myself exist. Please don't binarize me, that sucks.

I call the rp/kink fiction/pretend element "kayfabe" because wrestling is y'know. somewhat analogous to kink in some ways!

Setting up my queue to post all the reblogs I drafted then forgot about!!!! Please be patient!!

Not Planning on Going On T Please Don't Act Like I Am [I use tcock and tdick with the t meaning trans or t4t, not testosterone <3]

List time!!!!

g = giving, r = receiving

BIG YESES!!

body worship [g+r]

praise [g+r]

tentacles & monsters [...g+r] (used to be this blog's main theme, but I'm revamping! might still post/rb it though)

bondage & restraint & shibari [g+r]

hypnosis [g+r]

bimbofication & dumbification genre [g+r]

creampies [r+g but that requires a strap and/or imagination]

overstim [g+r]

edging [g+r]

Objectification in the sense of being a toy, a tool, something with a function that does a job [r, unsure about g]

petplay [g+r I am a kitten thank you not a puppy sadly]

gentle gender affirming genderplay/forcemasc/forcefem!!!!!! [g+r]

DEFINITELY MORE I DON'T REMEMBER OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD

CONTEXT DEPENDENT (not always a big yes but the version eithout context is a no)

anal [giving ONLY, and only with gloves or a strap]

intox [giving/domming ONLY]

Consensual non-consent but ONLY if it's clearly established as such with the post/fiction (I know I'm rare in that I find the prep and negotiation hot but hey, I love communication and trust!)

Painplay [giving/domming ONLY]

Breathplay [giving/domming ONLY] (picky about this one because safety but also I got asthma so I need to breathe normally)

NOS!!!!

Any kind of pregnancy or pregnancy focused kink

Any sort of inflation (cumflation is case by case)

Breeding with the INTENT of pregnancy (see creampies above, I do love the raw sex and being cum in but pregnancy still makes me dysphoric)

Nipple/breast focused content and/or kink (don't have those anymore and they gave me dysphoria) (except if you want to do like. breast theft. then we can talk about it but I'm super picky it's basically a no)

Detrans kink and misgendering kink (I respect you but not my thing and usually makes me dysphoric. More power to ya though!)

Kinks involving urine, scat [shit], or filth [literal] in any large capacity

Consensual Non-Consent when it's in-universe just non-con

I respect y’all but no f4uxc3st and please tag it!!!! I have it blocked because my brain goes “you want ocd symptoms abt this? Okay!” I don’t even have full ocd just traits n trauma 😔

Visual representation of genitals In Action (this is a me thing and I'm working on it slowly, this one will be removed eventually but basically. only artful nudes like an art piece in a museum if you wanna send 'em or if I post them)

[all of this is subject to changes and updates when I remember things not listed here or I learn more about my tastes!]

Original Writing/Pictures Tags:

#Prim/Clark~ Says = non-horny posts/writing/updates (that's what this is tagged as)

#Prim/Clark~ Whimpers = horny writing (submissive focus)

#Prim/Clark~ Smirks = horny writing (dominant focus)

#Prim/Clark~ Moans = horny writing (generally)

#Prim/Clark~ Reveals = if I ever do post suggestive pics (probably no actual pussy in it, tasteful museum style) this is the tag for that. we'll see how I feel.

[stay tuned, I may add my tumblr partners down here ;3 gotta get their permission first though! consent is important! whee!]

[use-your-telescope]

When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 18: You Were in the Darkness, Too

Summary: The aftermath of the attack on the Metropolitan Museum of Art. 

Author’s Note: So… I meant to post a chapter two days ago, then Sunday morning I woke up and was like “nope I need to re-do some of this because I think it’ll be better if a certain event happens ‘on screen,’ so to speak.” Long story short, two days later, here we are! I feel like Oprah - “you get world building, you get back story reveal, you get plot progression, you get super self-indulgent hurt-comfort (maybe a bit more hurt in this chapter, but have no fear there is LOADS more comfort where this came from)!” 

Another random note - back when I started posting snippets on the beloved hellsite, this song initially was set with an entirely different chapter. Then I concluded it worked much better here. So if you have been around for long enough that you’re like “hold up a minute!” when you see the song and what happens here, that’s why. Tbh, I think most of the songs that were paired up with chapters have changed since I initially posted snippets. That’s the beauty of drafts, I guess? Anyways, thanks for your patience, and hope you enjoy <3 reblogs are always appreciated, and lmk if you want to be added to the tag list!

Contents: Descriptions of vomiting, in relation to describing a migraine. Nightmares. Tears. Loki being the actual MVP. 

Word Count: 5,913

Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist

Song: Cosmic Love - Florence + The Machine

A falling star fell from your heart And landed in my eyes I screamed aloud as it tore through them And now it’s left me blind

Some types of pain could be relieved with medicine.

Others… not so much.

From the moment Theo found Chris outside of the Met, standing amidst the crowd of attendees in a makeshift triage area that had been set up by blocking off 5th Avenue, she could sense a difference in the way he looked at her. He didn’t rush towards her; instead, he approached slowly, scanning over her appearance with wide eyes and the color actively draining from his face. When they met in the middle, Chris reached out as if he wanted to embrace Theo, but he froze with hands hovering inches away from her body, as if he was afraid to touch her.  

Even as Theo promised she was fine and that Chris shouldn’t worry – even as she checked him over, asking if he was okay, the short, half-hearted answers and the cold, wary look in his eyes didn’t diminish; instead of embracing her, he lowered his arms and stepped back, putting even more distance between them. 

He looked at her the same way the council looked at her: as an abomination, a curse. 

The exchange, however, was cut short - one of the medics employed by Stark to work with the Avengers spotted Theo and rushed over to request her help treating some of the most critical patients, who otherwise would not survive transport to the nearest hospital. 

So, Theo pushed the raw ache that settled in her chest to the back of her mind, ignored the churning of her stomach and the pounding in her skull, and set about treating the worst of the injuries, even if it meant she would blow past her limits and pay the price later on. There was a physical cost to using magic, and with healing that cost was much higher - particularly when the scope of healing required was practically bringing someone back from the dead. 

However, between someone dying or inducing a migraine from overexertion of magic, Theo would choose the migraine every time. At least when she healed, some good could come from her magic. Did it make her suffer? Yes, but she probably deserved it after everything.

And boy, she was suffering.

By the time she left, the only people who remained beyond the emergency response crews were paparazzi, lurking around the perimeter like predators stalking prey as they attempted to capture glimpses of the aftermath. They pounced at the sight of Theo, bloodied and drained after what was meant to be a celebratory occasion turned to a nightmare. Each burst of flash felt like an icepick to her skull and left her wishing she had enough energy to teleport herself home. Theo lifted one hand in a futile attempt to block some of the light, only for the shouting of the photographers to ricochet through her eardrums and into her skull. 

How Theo survived the ride back to the tower without throwing up from motion sickness, she wasn’t sure. By some miracle she made it back to her suite, only to make it a few steps inside the door before the nausea and sensitivity to light and sound made her beeline for the bathroom, scolding herself for her earlier recklessness as she dove for the toilet and prepared to empty the contents of her stomach. 

Over the sound of her retching, Theo didn’t hear her phone ring. Because her head was buried in the porcelain bowl of the toilet, she didn’t see the screen light up with Chris’s name. 

As the nausea faded, Theo remained firmly in place, bent over the toilet bowl with both arms stretched across the top of the toilet seat. Once she knew she wasn’t going to be sick, Theo carefully eased herself down to lay on the floor, having spent the last of her energy throwing up. 

Laying in her bed would have been more pleasant, but the thought of moving sent waves of churning heat through Theo’s stomach and made her entire body ache. Besides, the cool tile felt great against her uncomfortably warm skin and it was tolerable enough for her to pass out without even realizing she’d done so.

It was the vibration of Theo’s phone rattling on the floor that dragged her back to the world of the living, only to find she somehow felt even worse than when she passed out earlier. In her half-asleep stupor, Theo clumsily grabbed the phone from where she had tossed it as an afterthought. A wince snuck out as the light of the screen stabbed through Theo’s head; she squinted, trying to make sense of the contents on the screen.

The culprit was a text from Wanda, stating “you okay??”  and then including what looked like a link. But Theo didn’t open the text right away - a different notification on her lock screen caught her eye. A voicemail from Chris, from right around the time Theo got back to the tower, elicited a sense of foreboding dread from Theo that she couldn’t ignore.

With shaking fingers, Theo unlocked her phone and went to her voicemail. She selected the message, relying on the speech to text feature to read the contents of the message instead of listening.

“Hey, it’s Chris. I’d been hoping you would answer, but I guess it is what it is. Look, I’ve been thinking - I don’t think we should see each other anymore. I know it’s cliché, but I mean it when I say it’s not you - it’s me.”

Even if Theo knew it was coming, reading the words still made her sick to her stomach. 

“I know that you’ll always have to put your work as an Avenger first - I’ve always known that. I wouldn’t ask you to try and choose between being an Avenger and our relationship. But tonight, I saw you fighting, and I realized what it really means to date an Avenger, and– it’s too much. I can’t do it. If there’s stuff you left at my apartment, I’ll send it back to you. I’m sorry, Theo. Take care.”

Theo barely finished reading the transcription before bile clawed up from her stomach. She gagged, scrambling to her knees and barely managing to get into position before she threw up, this time expelling nothing but stomach acid in the process. 

Between the cramping of her abdominal muscles, the burning in her throat, the pounding in her skull, the uncomfortable heat of her skin, and the aches radiating from her bones, Theo was miserable enough. The voicemail, however - that was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

A gasp escaped from Theo before she could stop it, then a whimper. Her eyes were leaking - no, water poured from them. She tried to cover her face with her hands as a whine escaped her throat, but she couldn’t stop the sobs that shook her entire body. Moving was painful - crying was painful - but the ache inside of her was far worse than any physical discomfort.

She should have known it would end like this. This was always what happened when people got to know her - they realized she was no good, and then they abandoned her. Thinking this time would be any different was stupid. Even if she told herself that whatever she had with Chris was nothing serious, it didn’t make the fact that he saw her for the curse she was, and he left.

They always leave.

And the worst part? Theo wasn’t angry at Chris for leaving. As much as she hated when the council looked at her like the curse she was, she could understand why. Her family deserved better. The Aneterrans deserved better. They all deserved better than her. 

Chris didn’t know the extent of the bullet he dodged, but he knew enough to make the smart decision and leave before he got hurt.  

By the time the tears stopped, Theo felt like a mess through and through. She didn’t even want to think about what she looked like - eyes swollen, hair tangled, makeup smudged, her skin still sticky with dried blood, and her armor torn from fighting. 

She needed a shower, and then a real bed.

As tempting as it was to lay back down on the floor and continue to wallow, the desire to feel less disgusting won out. 

Theo sat on the floor as she peeled the layers of armor off her body, only standing when she absolutely had to in order to remove her pants. The addition of vertigo meant that she spent most of the short time beneath the spray of cool water leaning against a wall, eventually sliding down to sit on the shower floor when her legs grew too tired to support her weight. 

The process of drying and dressing in pajamas required multiple pauses - one to be sick again, the others a result of aching limbs and muscles trembling from prolonged exertion. It took a herculean effort, but Theo finally made it to her bed, falling asleep before she even had a chance to pull the covers over herself.

The stars, the moon, They have all been blown out You left me in the dark No dawn, no day, I’m always in this twilight In the shadow of your heart

Once a bustling metropolis, Meridia had been known for its opulence and innovation. The streets were packed with vendors peddling their latest inventions and entertainers attempting to woo the staff of the royal court in hopes of securing an audience with the king and queen. 

That Meridia was no more.

Theo stood in the center of a barren flagstone street, blanketed in the dark of a new moon. Broken glass clung to the window frames of weathered stone buildings long-abandoned, just one trace of the city’s descent into madness. Adjusting her mask, Theo pressed forward, relying on muscle memory to carry her into the underbelly of the city she once called home. 

Theo used to sneak onto those very streets with her cousins, placing bets on which performers would successfully charm whoever was tasked with the day’s errands. Sneaking amongst the city was how Theo first learned her governess had a crush with the Apothecary’s son, always traveling to him whenever she needed some sort of potion or supplies for Theo’s lessons. Theo also once caught Ravenna performing to a crowd while in disguise, though Theo immediately recognized her sister and used the knowledge as blackmail. If she listened close enough, she could hear faint traces of musicians’ voices in the wind.

A chill wracked her body. 

Throughout the streets, navy fog shimmered, emitting an iridescent glow as it weaved in and out of the alleys around her. When she left, this neighborhood had yet to be tainted by the arcane fog that had come to be known as the haze.  An orange glow and billowing smoke in the distance highlighted the silhouette of a broken skyline.

Even after all these years, the ruins had yet to stop burning.

The city was but a shadow of what it once was.

This was no longer the Meridia that Theo remembered, much less the Aneterra that Theo hoped to one day return to. 

Instinct led her down alleys and side streets, through what once were lush court gardens bursting with exotic blooms as she reached the rear of her destination. Dead vines of Ivy still clung to once-pristine stone walls; cracks in the weathered glass window panes only hinted at what Theo might find inside. Careful to avoid drawing attention to herself, Theo lurked in the shadows as she made her way round to the front of a building she once knew in and out, the place that she reminisced about on cold nights when the winds of winter rattled her windows as a girl in Michigan. 

Somehow, the front door - crafted of thick lumber and held together with intricate metalwork that reflected the status of the home’s former residents - hadn’t been destroyed in the massacre. 

Theo started to push the door open, but stopped short. She hadn’t been there since the night of the massacre, when she thought she lost everything. Even if Fury was right - even if Theo’s parents and sister were alive - they weren’t the only people Theo lost that night. The possibility that Theo might discover their remains just beyond the door was one she had to be ready to face.

Theo drew in a deep breath, steeled herself, and pushed the door open.

The creaking of worn hinges echoed through what once had been a grand foyer. A thick layer of dust coated the overturned furniture and picture frames along the walls, askew from the chaos of the massacre.

Theo’s boots clicked along the marble floor, each cautious step percolating through the air. The further she ventured into the room, the stronger the sense became that she was not alone.

Before her, a grand staircase curved up to the second floor, drawing the eye towards the massive windows which previously made the foyer feel particularly grand. In the dark, however, Theo couldn’t even tell if the glass remained in place, or if fighting had destroyed those windows too. 

Without consciously thinking about it, Theo crept towards the stairs and began to climb. Halfway up the stairs, Theo swore she saw a silhouette amongst the shadows cast by the window frame. Curiosity spurred her forward, past the top of the stairs.

Someone stood just in front of the window, looking out onto the ruins with their back towards Theo. They wore a black cloak, its cape brushing against the stone floor as it obscured the individual’s identity. 

As Theo drew near, they made no effort to look back and see who was there; as far as Theo could tell, they didn’t even seem to recognize she was there. With only a few feet between them, Theo opened her mouth and took a deep breath, ready to speak–

“...So…” The figure turned around, hands adorned with runes reaching out from beneath the cloak to lower the hood and reveal themselves to Theo. “... You are alive.”

Theo knew that voice like she knew her own name.

Ravenna stood before Theo, piercing lavender eyes filled with ice as she regarded her younger sister. Inky black hair tumbled over her shoulder, stopping just below her chest. Despite the lack of light, her skin cast a soft glow.

“Rae—“ Theo took a jarring step forward, only for her sister to step back.

“After all this time, you wander back here.” A bitter laugh escaped the elder sister. “What, are you here to save the day? We needed that years ago.”

“No, Rae–” Theo tried, “I had no idea—“

“No idea – what, we would still be here? Still fighting?” Ravenna spat, taking another step back. “Of course you wouldn’t - you brought this on us, why would you bother to try and fix it?”

She was the curse.

“No, Rae, please–” Theo extended a hand to her sister, desperate to plead her case. “I’m trying to get back so I can help–”

And in the dark  I can feel your heartbeat I tried to find the sound But then it stopped And I was in the darkness So darkness I became

Theo awoke with a jolt, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. The sudden movement sent a wave of aches rolling through her limbs while her pounding heart throbbed between her temples.

Dreams of Aneterra were nothing new, but the nightmare was different from anything she had seen before. This wasn’t seeing the world from someone else’s perspective, or watching like a third party; it was as if she had actually been there.

It was just a nightmare. It was just a nightmare - she had experienced plenty of them before. It didn’t take a witch to know that this wasn’t a premonition or a vision - this was a manifestation of her worst fears. There was no reason to give this particular nightmare any merit - her anxieties were unfounded, at least according to Memere.

But this one felt particularly vivid, and it was hard to shake.

Just the thought of her sister’s anger brought another round of overwhelming nausea. Throwing off the covers, Theo nearly tripped over herself as she bolted for the bathroom. She shoved the door open and stumbled inside, wincing at the crash of the door handle slamming against the wall. Collapsing to the bathroom floor, she barely managed to get her head over the toilet before throwing up. 

Despite the minuscule amount of bile, she continued to retch and gag for a couple minutes; it was as though her body was convinced something else was still in there, even though there was absolutely no way in hell that Theo hadn’t already emptied her stomach many times over. 

Completely spent, Theo closed her eyes and slumped against the toilet, temple pressing against the cool porcelain of the tank. Even without her eyes open, the ground beneath her tilted and swayed like she was on a boat during stormy seas.

God, she was a mess.

“Are you alright?”

Theo’s head snapped up towards the voice, only for her to wrench her eyes shut and groan as a fresh round of misery bashed in her skull. When the worst of it passed, Theo cracked her eyes open, blearily peering up through the dark to find Loki standing in her bathroom, staring at her as if she was a ghost.

“What’re you doing here?” The question slipped out, her exhaustion and malaise resulting in a far too blunt delivery.

“I had been on my way to the sitting room when I heard crashing come from inside your quarters; when you did not respond to my knocking, I grew worried and came inside…”

It took a moment for Theo to register what Loki had said, but when it finally clicked, she burst into uncontrollable tears. 

I took the stars from my eyes And then I made a map And knew that somehow I could find my way back Then I heard your heart beating You were in the darkness too So I stayed in the darkness with you…

Of all the things Loki expected in life, attempting to console a truly distraught Theo at three in the morning while sitting on her bathroom floor was nowhere among them.

And yet, that was exactly where he found himself - cross-legged on the marble tile as he cradled Theo in his lap, her face buried in his chest as she wept with such vigor that her entire body shook. 

Loki replayed the series of events that led to his present position. 

Like many nights, it began because of his inability to sleep. What was rare, however, was that his insomnia was not the result of some night terror, some monster that left his mind running in circles as if it were a dog chasing its tail. 

No, he had been quite content when he settled into his bed, his well-worn copy of The Eye of the World in hand for some light reading. Yet, instead of dozing off to thoughts of Moiraine Damodred and her search for the Dragon Reborn, his mind wandered back to the attack on the Met Gala.

Theo had been the only one to successfully defeat one of the mystery beings that had been discovered, revealing an ability to control the shadow creatures that continued to antagonize Midgard. The carnage left behind, however, indicated that the being proved to be quite a challenge - beyond the mess in the gallery, Theo walked away from the exchange with no shortage of wounds that would require a healer to address.

Still, she hadn’t returned to the tower with the other Avengers. Instead, she insisted on ensuring her beloved actor was safe and seeing if any victims needed care - all the while acting as if she herself was not actively bleeding from multiple parts of her body.

Selfless, stubborn creature.

From there, his mind shifted to the being who had wrought such havoc. In the immediate aftermath of the attack, there had not been much opportunity to examine the corpse before it was whisked away by SHIELD agents for further study; what he had been able to discern remained fairly generic. Humanoid in form, though the shriveled appearance of their flesh gave the impression of some type of undead creature. Spider-like black veins stretched beneath their skin, as if they had been poisoned or cursed in some manner.

Yet, he hadn’t seen anything quite like it.

At that point, Loki accepted his fate: he was nowhere near sleeping. 

With that in mind, he scoured his book shelves for one of the tomes he rescued from Asgard during Ragnarok - one that he referenced from time to time, usually when SHIELD requested his insight regarding creatures that Midgard had never seen before. Leatherbound book in hand, Loki began the familiar venture to the sitting room for a sleepless night of research.

Until heavy, syncopated footsteps and a muffled crash from the next room over stopped Loki dead in his tracks.

A heavy thud, as if multiple heavy objects had been dropped simultaneously, followed. The sound came from within Theo’s quarters - a realization which only brought an increased pulse and a festering sense of dread.

Loki approached her door, rapping his knuckles on the dark wood. “Theo?”

He pressed his ear to the door, listening for any signs of movement. If he strained, he thought he heard some sound - coughing, maybe? - but nothing indicating movement.

A twist of the doorknob indicated that it had not been locked. Before he fully thought the decision through, Loki pressed the door open. He slipped inside, carefully navigating the pitch black as he began to search for Theo. 

Though Theo’s space was never perfectly clean, the sitting room appeared as if nothing had been knocked over or disturbed. The sense of urgency grew as he explored further, knowing that such a racket followed by such silence never had benign origins. 

A painful-sounding retch came from the direction of Theo’s bathroom, followed by a groan.

Loki strode towards the sound, careful to remain quiet in case something foul was afoot.

He rounded the corner to find the bathroom door wide open, revealing Theo hunched over the basin of the toilet as if she had just been sick to her stomach. 

The pieces fell into place - he must have heard her running to the restroom and throwing the door open.

When she finished, she slumped down a bit, eyes closed as she laid her head along the seat, breathing as if she had finished a grueling training routine. 

Though Theo had clearly showered since her return, she somehow appeared even worse for wear than the last time Loki saw her. Her complexion rivaled that of a ghost. Her eyes, though closed, appeared red and swollen, lashes glistening despite the darkness. Wrinkled pajamas twisted around her body in a rather unnatural fashion; combined with an absolutely disheveled braid, Loki guessed she’d been tossing and turning in her sleep.

Loki stood there for a moment, completely dumbfounded. Should he say something? What would he say? After waiting this long, would it scare her? Would saying something make things worse? If he didn’t say something, would she think he was a creep? Should he just leave?

At one point, he stopped himself and nearly laughed. He was Loki, of Asgard. How a Midgardian would react to him should not have been of concern. 

However, this was no ordinary Midgardian.

He drew in a deep breath.

“Are you alright?”

The way Theo’s head shot up confirmed she had no clue he was there, or at least he had startled her. A brief moment of horror flashed across her face, only for a grimace to take hold as she clutched her head and groaned.

Loki cursed himself for startling her with such a pointless question - of course she was unwell, she would not be in such a position otherwise.

Theo lifted her head once more and cracked her eyes open, squinting up at Loki as she blinked slowly. Something about her gaze seemed… Off. 

“What’re you doin’ here?” The question came out half-mumbled and a bit slurred; she listed back and forth ever-so-slightly, almost like she could not keep her balance.

“I had been on my way to the sitting room when I heard crashing come from inside your quarters,” Loki replied, frowning at Theo. “When you did not respond to my knocking, I grew worried and came inside…”

Unsure of how to conclude his statement, Loki trailed off, running his fingers through his hair.

The predicament he found himself in was well outside of his area of expertise; comforting people was something Maximoff was far better with. He briefly debated leaving to fetch the Scarlet Witch – she would know the perfect solution in a moment like this.  Yet, Loki remained frozen in place, mind reeling over how to proceed. Should he try to locate a healer? Should he try to soothe her? Should he leave her alone?

The silence stretched as Loki stared at her, frantically running through different ideas in his head and dismissing them for all the reasons they might not work. Loki found himself frozen, unable to make up his mind about what he should do.

In turn, Theo simply sat there, blinking slowly as she stared up at Loki…

… Until her face crumpled and she caved in on herself, a small, hitched breath giving way to a heartbroken sob.

Such a desolate sound had no place falling from Theo’s lips.

Spurred to action by Theo’s tears, Loki lowered himself to sit on the floor beside her. He may have been an Avenger, but he certainly was not a perfect hero. Despite bravery being in the job description, he had to dig up the last of his courage to pull her into what he hoped would be a comforting embrace. 

At the new touch, Theo tensed, gasping quietly as her trembling hands flew up to cover her mouth and stifle her cries.

Loki froze. 

Yet again, Theo had startled, all because of him. Loki cursed himself - of course he would make a mess of what should have been a simple interaction. With his luck, she wouldn't have a thing to do with him after tonight. 

It was too far to turn back now; after all, in for a penny, in for a pound.

Just before Loki lost his ambition and pulled away, Theo settled beneath his touch, shifting so her face pressed firmly against his chest; hot tears dampened the knit fabric of his shirt as she somehow began to cry even harder. Her arms slipped around his waist, clinging to him despite the way her entire body shook. 

Loki cupped one hand to Theo’s neck, the pad of his thumb slowly brushing against her unusually heated skin. This time, Theo did not recoil or freeze at the change, instead melting into the touch.

Perhaps there was hope.

Motivated by a surge of courage, Loki shifted from simply holding Theo close to tracing gentle, unhurried circles along her back. 

With every new circle, the smallest hint of tension slipped from Theo’s muscles; as more of her body relaxed into Loki’s embrace, her cries slowed and grew softer. Even when Theo had loosened her grip and the only sounds she made were shaky, slow breaths, Loki had no intention of stopping his ministrations. 

“Theo?” He murmured, nose brushing against her hair as he looked down at her.

“M’m s’rry…” With her face fully buried in Loki’s shirt, Theo’s almost embarrassed response came out almost charmingly muffled; however, she made no effort to move.

“It’s alright.” Loki used the hand on Theo’s neck to sweep her messy braid aside, flattening his cool palm against the overheated flesh. “I take it you do not feel well?”

She weakly shook her head. “Feel Awful.”

“How about I help you to your bed so you can get some rest?”

“No, please – I can’t – ” The force with which Theo shook her head the second time caught Loki by surprise, as did the rising panic in her tone. “– Can’t go back–”

“Darling, you need rest if you’re to feel better,” Loki gently tried to rationalize, though if the heat radiating from Theo was any indication, her ability to rationalize likely had been impacted by some level of a fever. “The floor is no place for someone who is ill. You ought to rest in bed.”

“Not mine,” Theo begged, ”I can’t–” 

“Would you like me to bring you to the infirmary so you might rest there?”

Theo shook her head, tightening her arms around Loki.

“I’m not sure what other options there are, as I do not think I can bring bring you to your actor—“

“Broke up.” A new pair of damp spots on Loki’s shirt accompanied the two-word interruption, punctuated by a sniffle.

“Pardon?”

Theo blindly reached to the side, drawing Loki’s eye to her mobile. He unfurled one arm to retrieve it for her. Theo didn’t even pull away from Loki to look at what she was doing as she unlocked the device before handing it back. Loki accepted, eyes scanning across the screen. 

The most recent of Theo’s voice messages was from her lover, not long after the events at the Met Gala. White, hot fury shot through Loki’s veins as he read the transcription; despite what Loki had been told of the Midgardian’s supposed kindness, the message he left Theo was short, blunt, lacking any sense of care for the recipient. If anything, it was downright cruel.

Perhaps it was for the best that Loki needed to ensure Theo was cared for first, as he otherwise might have tracked the bastard down and made him regret his callous behavior. The first thing to sort out, however, was where she might be amenable to resting, since her bed and the infirmary were, for some unknown reason, unacceptable.

An idea came to mind; though it might cause others to talk, it was, up to that point, the best he could manage without waking anyone else and dragging them into the conversation.

“How about you come with me to my quarters?” Loki cautiously suggested. “You can rest there for a while, then decide later if you’d like to return to your own bed or seek out the infirmary. Would that work?”

A slow, almost sleepy nod brought a swell of tenderness to Loki’s chest and a soft smile to his face. 

Loki carefully adjusted to cradle Theo in his arms before slowly rising to his feet. In what almost seemed to be instinct, Theo pressed her forehead into space between Loki’s shoulder and the crook of his neck, letting out a strained breath before settling in. Though Loki had already established the presence of a fever, it wasn’t until carrying Theo that he noticed she was not simply trembling, but downright shivering.

Careful not to jostle Theo as he navigated the tower in the dark, Loki made the return journey to his quarters with restrained haste, relying on his Seidr to help with managing doors and other environmental obstacles that otherwise could have slowed or complicated the process of getting Theo to bed. 

Upon arriving in his own quarters, the dim, golden glow from a nearby lamp provided the first opportunity to take in Theo’s appearance under any sort of light; Loki paused for a moment to confirm his prior assessments regarding Theo’s condition. Much of what he discerned in the dark remained accurate, though he did find the smallest relief that it seemed she had fallen asleep while in transit and appeared almost peaceful… Were it not for the tell-tale signs of tears previously being shed, one might have been fooled into believing all was well. 

With a hushed sigh, Loki brought her from the great room to his bedchambers. A flick of one finger and shimmer of emerald seidr later, Loki lowered Theo onto the bed, carefully tucking her beneath the silken sheets and the plush duvet which Loki had crafted from the finest Asgardian textiles, pausing for a moment when a soft, breathy hum snuck out of Theo and she shifted, snuggling further beneath the covers. 

A few minutes later, Loki had placed a bin beside the bed in the event Theo became sick to her stomach once more, procured a glass of water and set it on the closest nightstand, and drawn the drapes shut so the morning light would not wake her.

With nothing else to distract him, Loki now had to answer the question he had yet to consider: where was he going to sleep?

The proper answer, of course, would be to find alternate sleeping arrangements, lest anyone make inappropriate assumptions about the circumstances. 

But doing so meant leaving Theo by herself, essentially abandoning her when she was in the midst of a particularly vulnerable moment. Surely, she would understand if he remained close by; after all, she trusted him up until this moment, enough to abandon her own quarters in favor of staying in his. Besides, he had stayed with her once before when she felt unwell. Precedent had been set to ensure no one mistook him for less than noble intentions, given the circumstances.

Yet, as Loki crawled beneath the covers on the opposite side of the bed, the distance still felt as if he were abandoning her. What if she woke up, delirious from fever, did not see him beside her, and panicked at the lack of familiar surroundings? If Theo laid with him, Loki would know the moment she woke and could ensure she had whatever she needed; even better, he could use his Jötun heritage for benevolent means, combining it with his seidr to reduce his core temperature so he could serve as a sort of full-body cool compress. 

Amidst warring thoughts, the weight of an arm draped across his chest ripped Loki from his indecision. Theo had rolled over in her sleep, curling into Loki’s side with her head resting atop the dip between shoulder and chest and one leg wrapped around his as if second nature. She nuzzled into him, oblivious to the waking world, her breath slow and deep in contrast to Loki’s racing heart. 

For a moment, Loki found himself dumbstruck by just how natural it felt to lay with her tucked into his side in such a manner. In her most vulnerable moments, she found solace in his presence. In her sleep, she sought him out. And though he could make any multitude of excuses as to why - she was not aware who she curled herself around, she was not of sound mind from illness - the excuses did nothing to dispel the pure awe that resulted from realizing the trust Theo placed in him.

In the morning, he would locate Maximoff and determine how to proceed; until then, he would embrace the trust placed in him, and hopefully repay it tenfold.

He willed his seidr to work, cooling himself to offer Theo some relief from her fever, then allowed himself to drift into a pleasant sleep.

The stars, the moon, They have all been blown out You left me in the dark No dawn, no day, I’m always in this twilight In the shadow of your heart

[tan1shere]

Just a little look at some fics in my drafts that I'll be getting to

The 30th - Billie fic ♤

|| You got in a crash, after something bad was happening, you had called billie leaving her worried after you hung up, and didn't respond to her texts.

I'll get this out soon hopefully !!

Her Favorite - Billie fic ♡◇

|| you're the teachers pet.

Dunno when I'll have this out

You're No Good For Me - Eva from swarm ◇

|| you and Eva have known eachother for awhile, you go and spend your break at the place she lives, when a therapy session turns into something else. Something more.

Also not sure when but soon as I'm almost done !

Obsessed - Miko fic ◇

|| neighbors right? Not behind the scenes.

Also dunno

Keep Going - Billie fic ◇

|| Billie wants to try something new, how could you say no to your irresistible girlfriend.

Not sure yet but I'm almost finished this too

Away With You - Billie fic ♡

|| you go on a vacation with your girlfriend and it's the nicest time you've probably ever had with one another.

Also not entirely sure

I have way more in my drafts but these are the ones I'm getting to first, or trying to. Thank you to the people who are, being patient with me I have heaps of love for yall <3

Also two Billie series in the works bit I'm gunna keep hush hush on that 😁

[weemssapphic]

Little writing update under the cut for anyone who is interested!! <3

The following are finished, beta'd and have been saved as drafts to post, in this order:

Larissa, where reader is a boudoir photographer

Lipstick Stains ch. 10

Miranda, enemies to lovers

So expect those over the course of the next week/week and a half as I like to space out updates a little.

I am currently writing and making very good progress on:

Lipstick Stains ch. 11

Larissa, where reader is the new principal of Nevermore

I do have a ton of requests still to write, some dating back to May (the boudoir and the principal one) - aside from the above, I have 22 for Larissa (yep xD), 2 for Brienne, 2 for Miranda, 1 for Jane, 1 for Phasma. Plus of course some of my own fics that I am working on.

It has taken me a lot longer to get to requests than I would like. Partly due to a bout of writer's block, partly due to constant chronic pain flare-ups where I spend all weekend in bed, partly due to having focused on some original ideas that weren't requests, partly due to starting a new job which is a lot more time-consuming and demanding than my previous job.

However, I do genuinely enjoy writing. It's very fun for me, I love getting requests and thinking about how I'll write them, and I find it very cathartic to get all those silly little scenarios out of my head and find other people who are equally as insane about those scenarios!! <3

So if you have sent me a request, thank you for being patient with me as I sort through those and get to them one by one, and thank you if you read my fics.

Much love to everyone reading this x