#Sorry I’m . Upset for no identifiable reason today

[seraphimdove]

I want you to know that not only am i wearing my friendship bracelet, i brought *both* squidges to the library with me. It makes me feel like i have a little piece of you to carry with me now /aff /pos

🥺

[rafeyswrd]

for your rafe cameron series 🧡!

i hc that rafe hates that his shy gf is a people pleaser so whenever ppl ask reader for/to do things, he tells them no and teaches reader to be selfish sometimes

sweet girl . part one.

part two.

. . . finally done with uni and travel work so!!! i have not written in too long, so hopefully i have done it some justice!! part 1 because i truly think it deserves more :(

warnings. manipulative rafe? oblivious reader. bad friends lowkey.

Rafe Cameron adored you to the ends of the earth, every breath you took called his name. He cannot think of any quality you owned in which he disliked (maybe, slightly, being a pogue). But God he could not stand how nice you were. You knew it was a bad habit, a habit that made you likeable for all the wrong reasons. 

Your heart was racing, and the base of your palms overloaded with sweat. No matter how many times you tried to relieve the stress, your mind would not stop reeling. It took days of convincing on your friends’ end, but it finally came to their luck when you’d hesitantly agreed.

Terrified. Terrified is the word you would use to describe how you felt. You were in shambles just thinking of the ocean, the deep seas scaring you in ways you would rather not imagine. But your friends needed you, after constructing a plan to get another batch of gold – all they needed was you.

“Are you ready?” JJ asked. Your shaking hands were gripping the edge of the boat before you nodded. 

You tried, you really did, only you felt the panic settle in when your legs were the only identifiable object below you that did not jitter you. Your eyes stung painfully, and you were sure they would swell soon enough. After every exhale you did, water filled your lungs and the fish that trickled by your trembling feet, did not help but cause a worrisome tremble of your body. 

It was a long while with overwhelming darkness consuming you, and time didn’t register then, not until Rafe’s angry voice was loading through your ears.

He was beyond furious. He wasn’t supposed to leave you alone today, but how could he say no to you when you were practically begging? (it did not take much — in fact.)

Rafe stood near his bed, watching your breathing steady and lashes gently flutter open. He paced near you with haste speed, before sitting down near your arms. “Do you know how stupid you are?”

“wh-what?” 

“You wanted to keep this relationship a secret,” his breath shook with every word he spat out, yet the touch on his hands were laced with gentleness. “So you better stay outta trouble. I can’t come ‘n get you around your shitty fucking friends.”

You sat up slowly, taking notice of the way your clothes lay folded on his desk chair, his own clothes hanging loosely around your body. You knew Rafe cared about you, he is your boyfriend, but it never crossed your mind that he’d find anger in your misery. 

You gulped, shrugging your shoulders yet your hands still circled by his, “I-I don’t get it, they’re my friends and they asked, it was a risk anyone would tak-”

“No the fuck it’s not, my God Y/N,” he dragged his hands over his face, before leaning close to you. “No friends would ask you to jump into the fuckin’ ocean knowin’ you’re scared shitless.”

His jaw clenched and you squint your eyes at the furrow of his brows, “Rafe…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” The frown residing on your face was evident, reaching out with one hand to clasp his rough hands with your own, and another tenderly caressing the creasing of his skin.

You didn’t understand his anger, but it was justified in your head, nonetheless. How could he ever be wrong in your eyes?

Not a second had passed and he was already mimicking the sadness plastered onto you, before using his other hand to caress your cheeks — a touch so soft sighs escaped the pair’s lips.

“Baby,” he cleared his throat, “Im- m’not mad at you. No one loves you like I do. I wouldn’t risk your life; your friends are selfish.”

He cradled your head onto his chest, wiping and pressing on your pouting mouth. “‘s not the first time either, you care too much ‘ts going to hurt you.” you shrug into his chest, heart aching at the sound of his own beating erratically breath your ears.

Rafe sighed, gulping and leaning onto the headboard, “gonna have to have me stuck by you all the time, i’ll be your backbone while you get to be all sweet ‘n shit.”

“you think i’m sweet?” a saccharine giggle escapes you at the roll of his eyes, and Rafe tightens his hold on you, knuckles white as you draw mindless patterns on his chest.

[altschmerzes]

if anyone has cats they would like to send me pics of i would appreciate that a lot i am having a very very fucking weird one right now and don’t really know what to do with myself.

the short version is: my dad died today. the long version is..... probably an absolutely ridiculous overshare but. like i said. don’t know what to do with myself so i’m just. idk im talking out loud i guess, putting this Somewhere. it’s. heavy, sorry.

so the post i made recently celebrating seven years going no-contact with my abusive father who kind of ruined my life in a lot of really serious ways i am likely never really going to completely recover from? yeah. he had a stroke earlier this year that sounded like it was pretty serious and that was a lot to process and then i just got the call from my mom that he had a heart attack while fishing with a friend this afternoon and died. apparently it was fast, which is good. he was fifty-five and i guess he’d just hit two years sober.

my mom sounded really upset on the phone, and i guess she’d only found out less than ten minutes before she called me, she just told my sister, who lives with her, and my sister went off to take a shower (read: have a breakdown in the shower), and then called me immediately and said “your dad died” as soon as i answered with a hey, what’s up. they’d been divorced for twenty years and he was a fucking bastard but i guess your ex-husband and your kids’ dad who you’ve recently been reconnecting with and spending time with again dies and you’re probably gonna have some strong feelings about it. my sister is in pieces, they’d reconnected and were spending a lot more time together. in their text they said ‘i barely got any time with him and i’m fucking heartbroken’.

and because he has no other living relatives my 23 year old sister who is uh, in a fragile state on the best of days, is gonna have to deal with all of the paperwork and shit that happens when someone dies. and my sister and i’s relationship is like.... it’s complicated, to put it politely, they are very hard for me to be around for a lot of reasons, but i wouldn’t wish that on them and i wish i was able to take on that stuff if only because i’m almost through law school and i’m the least emotionally invested in the man and it just would be easier for everyone if i did the paperwork and whatever.

and then there’s my brother, because i have a brother, who i barely talk about because it hurts to think about him. he’s nine years older than me and he’s my half-brother by my dad and after my dad went to prison on drug charges i didn’t see him for thirteen years. and then a long time after a brief visit too. he’s got two kids now, and for a while there we were in sporadic contact, but i haven’t seen or heard from him since i was maybe nineteen. and my mom was just kind of rambling on the phone about how she had to find my brother’s mother’s contact information because someone had to tell him and because i’m all the way out here and i can’t DO anything else i told her i’d find her and tell her what happened and get everyone’s contact information for whatever’s coming next so. now i’ve texted my brother, who is a living wound in my life, for the first time in like six years. he hasn’t answered yet and according to his mother he’s ‘devastated.’ so.

i’m not. i’m not devastated. i don’t know what i feel honestly. once i tracked her down on facebook and dealt with all of that i just sort of sat at the kitchen table and stared at the wall for a long time. listened to the mountain goats song ‘pale green things’ and drifted in a weird numb void. i’m not.... sad. not about him anyway. i don’t know what i am. i have a very difficult time articulating my feelings on a good day, fuck i mean i have a hard time identifying my feelings on a good day. some combination of autism and cptsd and the sense that if i have feelings someone is going to die, maybe me, maybe someone else. if i have feelings, i get someone killed, is the thought process, which is a long story but. is extremely hard to work around, especially when i don’t see the point because taking active steps to make my feelings known and make them something someone else has to deal with is like. what’s the point. why do that.

so i don’t know what i feel. i feel strange and distant and not-sad and kind of angry at my sister and brother for some fucking reason and guilty and resentful and relieved. there’s some relief in there i think, because it’s like. i don’t know. i had the thought earlier, ‘oh thank gd’ which is. it sounds heinous but i now i’ll never have to choose between attending my sister’s wedding and not having to see him there, if i go back to my hometown and feel like there’s a monster stalking me from the shadows i can just tell myself the fucking monster’s fucking dead and he can’t ever hurt me again. nobody in my family is ever going to be able to pressure me to just talk to him already, just move on and let it go. reconcile, forgive, get past it.

(i don’t know how much any of them know. i have never discussed this with my parents or my sister and i never plan to. we’ve talked about some things in vague euphemisms and talked around it even more. when he got out of prison and then when he was done stalking us which he did for a while and got some help i guess and was doing a bit better my sister wanted to reconnect with him and i didn’t. i had panic attacks, i was terrified, i didn’t want anything to do with him and i didn’t want my sister anywhere near him and i remember all my mom had to say to me about that was ‘if it makes you feel any better, i could take him.’ i don’t know what to... i just don’t know.)

i dunno. i don’t know. when i visited my hometown and stayed at my parents’ house (my grandmother’s house, when i say ‘parents’ i mean her and my mom generally) i slept with a knife on my bedside table and a plan of how to get out the window because i’d heard that he’d started dropping by sometimes and i was too scared to sleep otherwise. he terrorized me. i have very few memories from before he went to prison and most of them are of being terrified for my life. of being chased through the house, staying above the garage because for some reason we couldn’t be in the house that night. sexual abuse that i can still barely handle thinking about. he haunts my nightmares regularly, even though i haven’t seen or spoken to him in seven years, didn’t see or talk to him very often before that. i have panic attacks in my sleep dreaming about him, enough that i have to be medicated for it.

he’s a person who was deeply troubled and sick and suffered unimaginably in his life and it’s just.... i know all of that and i just. i don’t know. i hope he’s at peace i guess. i know he never was when he was alive. i know i’m not at peace most of the time, largely because of the shit he did to me. i don’t know. i don’t know. my dad’s dead.

[sins-of-the-sea]

“How did you know about the angel, Captain?!”

“I was confronted by one of their authorities. I am not sure which of their rankings, I was not given a name. I only heard a voice. Possibly an archangel or a principality, but she could have been a seraph or one of the Thrones for all I’d know.”

Ohh. Literal angels. That’s… not what the inhabitants of Rosegold Kingdom would identify as. At least not to his knowledge. This has to be some kind of mistake–Rosegold has to be some sort of traditional kingdom because Marshmallow mentioned having a queen. But the fact that someone approached the Captain about what he is inferring to be his meetings with Marshmallow, who can be mistaken to be an angel…

Perhaps this ‘she’ is either the Queen herself or some female representative of her court.

“What… has she confronted you about?”

“That you have been acting improperly around one of her own.”

“What?!!? We’re just talking! Sure, I flirted a few times here and there, but we never made actual physical contact! Well, nothing intimate, at least! He seems to like me so far, but we’re just friends!” Guy remembers the flower crown, now removed from his head to be hung on his wall. “We’re not-... it’s not like we’re courting! I don’t think we are!”

Josep finds that hard to believe. “‘You don’t ‘think’?’”

“Well, it’s not like I’m getting into his pants anytime soon, if that’s what you’re worried about. I highly doubt that’ll happen anyway. Not with the way things are going.”

“If that is the case… I am grateful, Guy.”

“...’Grateful’?”

“The angelic authority spoke to me how dangerous it was on their end. On our end it is dangerous as well. Can you imagine if the Master found out you were consorting with an agent of Heaven? Or if the Lord has found out an angel is mingling with humans like they did when they produced the Nephilim before the Flood?”

That… is wrong. The statement is wrong. And yet… not wrong at all at the same time. Guy knows full well Marshmallow and the Rosegold Kingdom is nothing like the angelic council in the Jewish and Christian bibles. However, he was able to recall the monster’s injury when they first met on La Demonia Roja. He recalls how Marshmallow suddenly acted distant upon remembering he had a Queen. What Josep is warning of may be a misunderstanding of the actual nature of these ‘angels’, but he is otherwise right for all the wrong reasons:

Guy meeting with him could either make him vulnerable to the Master or ruin his place among his own people. It’ll only further validate and confirm Guy is nothing but trouble and must not get close.

“....I fully understand, Captain. I will keep my distance. I’m sorry for the trouble I caused today. For the record, the scorched parts of town were due to a different date altogether. One that Ruixiong tried to organize in an attempt to lift my spirits, but I ended up getting angry with him and the date instead. I overreacted.”

“Did the date do something to offend you?”

“Not the date. Just Ruixiong. But you know how he is. Don’t punish him for what I did. He was just trying to cheer me up. I will not be leaving the hold until a very long while. I will accept any punishment you deck out onto me.”

“No. That will not be necessary. Seeing how you are still in there within the hold… I think you are being punished enough.”

“I’m not leaving the ship, Captain. Only when in relation to the Eye. I don’t want to see or be seen by anyone. All the more nowadays. Forgive me, Captain. But this includes you now.”

“..........”

“!! I-...I didn’t mean to let that slip out…!!”

“There is no need to apologize. I understand you are upset with everything that is happening to you right now. Please be well, Guy. I’ll check on you later.”

[nsk96]

Rant:

My mom went to our Hindu temple today (ours is like a two hour drive away [Palm Beach]). She wanted me to go and was upset when I got up this morning at 5am, not feeling well enough to go. She thinks it’s only because I went to bed late.

Long story short, I’ve exhausted all week and have been on my period all week with back pain, dizziness, and headaches. I’m on low dose birth control for endometriosis but when I have a breakthrough period, it extends how long I bleed for. Not to mention how dehydrated I am and the fact I stopped my topiramate so I’ve been getting rebound migraines and motion sickness.

I’ve been at rotation all week (retail pharmacy) so I was already exhausted when I got home, then had to not just find something to wear to temple, but also had to stand there for like 2 hours repairing the three big holes that somehow got there. Sewing by hand.

By the time I got in and out of the shower, I was exhausted and just wanted to scroll on my phone to recharge the dopamine because I’m burnt out. I had difficulty getting to bed early because I was too tired to get up.

She got back from the temple today and was yelling at me saying that I didn’t make any effort this morning to go. She said that “a lot of white people” were there and “white people are getting into our culture but it seems you’re running away from it”.

And she was saying I missed such a great opportunity to participate in prayers to “help clear my way”. Wait hold up…a couple weeks ago she said she wanted me to go to “network with people who share my culture.”

1) I don’t need to participate in my culture to be a Hindu. Religion and culture are two different things to me, because there are toxic things about our culture that contradict our religion’s teachings. I can live by my religion’s teachings and choose what culture to be a part of. I grew up in the U.S. with a Trinidadian-Indian background. So many east Indians don’t even consider me Indian so why would I try to be a part of something that I don’t really identify with.

2) “white people are getting into our culture”…yeah and I know black people who are getting into our culture too. The nearby temple had black people and the drummer was black too. Like was this statement about white people supposed to mean something to me? Is she thinking white people are superior to us so it’s a big deal that they’re at our temple? Which by the way, obsessing over white people is part of our culture as well it seems. Being white, marrying white, bleaching your skin to have lighter skin—I’m tired of the colorism.

3) she initially wanted me to go with her so I can “network” with people of “the same culture” because we “need a support system”. So yeah, can she make up her mind whether she wanted me to go for the spiritual benefit or if it was just to socialize. I didn’t have any energy to socialize and I know that if I didn’t, she would be upset about that too, which is another reason I didn’t want to go. I’m an introvert who’s been forced to be around people and do phone calls all week. The last thing I want to do this weekend is be around people.

Did I say any of this to her? No because she never listens. It’s easier for her to say “I don’t understand you” while never making an effort to understand me. After dealing with that my whole life, I got to the point of just being silent because it’s not worth the effort to explain how I feel or what’s going on in my mind.

I like how she came at me like she took it so personally that I didn’t go. I have a feeling she saw some guys my age there and just wanted me to mingle, because she’s always going on about how I need to start dating and she always talked about going to temple to meet guys of our culture.

I’m sorry to say, there are too many guys in “our culture” that are mama’s boys and too much misogyny going around. When my dad slapped my mom you wanna know what my grandmother told her to do? Pray…she told to her to pray. That’s our culture. Men like that, get away with shit and their wives are expected to stay and put up with it.

And that “support system” she was talking about? We are not going to find it with these people. They would be nice in front your face but then talk shit behind your back. They are not going to help us with our situation with my dad.

A couple weeks ago she was also talking about how my “godfather” who’s the pandit there, has connections that can help me with my career. All I can think about is how that didn’t seem to work out so well for my childhood friend who goes to the same temple (and also her godfather). She dedicated so much time every day at that temple, she and her family helping out with everything. She sacrificed study time to be there. But yet…where was her help and connections? She was right there beside me in college (undergrad) failing the same classes. Where was her help? Then on graduation day, no one showed up for her, not even her family. I shared with her what pictures I got of us and the video my parents managed to get of her walking across the stage.

It seems my mom will say anything to get me to go. I don’t need to be among people of my culture to find good people to befriend. She was all like “you can’t do everything alone.” Yes, I know that but I should be allowed to be picky about who I let into my life. Funny she’s always the one to say “be careful who you trust” and “don’t put yourself in any situation where you’re desperate for someone’s help” and “don’t owe anyone”. Which is funny because she’s encouraging me to do the exact things she told me not to?

Like, did she think showing up to this specific temple once after like 10 years, is gonna make my godfather want to help? She does not think he’d expect us to show up more often and help out too before he lends help?

And time is an issue because I’m on rotations and I have schoolwork to do along with projects my rotation preceptors assign to me. Not to mention all the onboarding stuff and orientation courses I need to do for every rotation. She said that the girl doing prayers at the temple is from Coral Springs (city close to ours) and she was there to pray for her studies.

Well, good for her. Can my mom stop comparing me to other people expecting me to manage my time or study the same way as them. 1) she doesn’t even know what this girl is studying. 2) I need 5x more time to study than most people I’ve met. While most of my classmates are out partying, I’m stuck at home studying with no social life because of my issues with attention/focus, memory, processing what I hear and read, fidgeting, motivation (executive dysfunction I think it was called) and so much more.

It’s hurtful that she keeps comparing me to other people instead of trying to understand me or help me with the issues I have. It’s hurtful that she always dismisses my issues while trying to give me advice that doesn’t work for me like “just do ___ like I do”. It’s hurtful that she doesn’t seem to take it seriously despite admitting that she always knew I “learned differently” than other people.

It’s kinda funny, that my closest friends turn out to have the same issues at varying degrees; a couple worse than me who dropped out of college because of these issues. Of course I lost some friends along the way though, making it difficult to trust any more people.

And I guess that’s why I felt so at home during my compounding rotation. They accepted me instead of constantly comparing me to other people, or other students. I felt safe to be myself there, even though it took a long time for me to finally start opening up.

[wretchedor30]

1. I am blind to social cues. 2. Social cues exist from handshakes and high-fives to love languages and apologies. 3. This is potentially trauma-based but could be a symptom of autism. 4. Because of my blindness to social cues, I don’t hold others to them, and so get along with others that also are blind to them. 5. Because I don’t uphold and/or break social cues I am blind to, I may come off as unapproachable, uncaring, ungrateful, mean, etc to people, even if they are not aware the reason for it is me breaking or not upholding a social contract.

And this is life-changing for me.

1. I am blind to social cues.

I was today years old when I realized that certain words and phrases are part of the social contract. This is due to one aspect of me not picking up on social cues. Despite my blindness to them, there are some that are ingrained within me. There are also others that I am not blind to.

2. Social cues exist from handshakes and high-fives to love languages and apologies. And monogamy.

Imagine, for a moment, that you reach out for a handshake, and the other person doesn’t accept. Would you be offended? Would you feel hurt? Now let’s say instead you reach out for a handshake and they instead pull you in for a hug. Depending on the person, this may come off as being too casual, creepy, or a warm and intimate moment. (I am not pro-pulling people into hugs, as that may not have consent. But that’s a whole other topic.) These two examples highlight either Not Upholding the social contract or Breaking the social contract.

Phrases like “Thank you,” “I love you,” and “I’m sorry”, as well as their responses of “You’re welcome,” “I love you, too,” or “I forgive you” are all part of the social contract, as well as many others. Because of this, some people need to hear the specific words or they can feel offended, etc, as above. Not saying the specific words can be Not Upholding and/or Breaking the social contract. (Similarly, certain words have a context that, when not taken into account, can mean a social contract is not being met).

Because of either Not Upholding or Breaking the social contract, the immediate impact may just be a feeling, whether positive or negative. Over time, that feeling is likely to grow as more social contracts are not met. People may not even be able to put their finger on why they feel a certain way, as they may not be aware of their own expectations (social contracts) they are holding people to. If you find someone frustrating, upsetting, etc, it is likely because you have a social contract that you may not be aware of that they are Not Upholding or Breaking.

These “social contracts” run DEEP, and thus may not be easily identified. If someone runs late, we see it as disrespectful or irresponsible because there is an expectation (aka social contract) to be on time. Love languages are all about expectations for showing affection/appreciation, and they’re things like quality time, acts of service, words of affirmation, and other expectations (aka social cues) we hold. The concept of “patience” is that people don’t get upset despite upsetting things, but the “upsetting things” is ALSO a social contract. People being “too slow” in the fast lane, people being “too loud” or “obnoxious”, etc. Maintaining your composure despite stress is something we value (and is an expectation or social contract), but we call it patience. And so it goes full circle and we may end up calling people patient because they may not hold people to the same social cues we do.

People’s social contracts (patience, charity, kindness), what they find polite, respectful, “right”, moral, etc, make up their values. And everyone has a different set. It’s why we have Democrats and Republicans. There is something that the people in the political parties either see being Not Upheld or Broken by one side, and it is important enough to take sides for.

3. This is potentially trauma-based but could be a symptom of autism.

In psychological terms, punishment is something that makes a behavior less likely, and reward is something that makes it more likely. In my house, sometimes “punishment” included saying certain words and phrases, such as “thank you”, “I’m sorry”, etc. While it was an unintentional impact of these phrases being (again, in psychological terms) punishment, it did steer me away from them and make using them less likely, instead of more likely. This may have been an early shift (me giving an apology, rather than saying the specific words, “I’m sorry”), and may have even been rewarded (they accept the apology without the words “I’m sorry”).

I did this shift in phrasing unintentionally, though working customer service has likely had an impact. It is amazing how much customer service training boils down to “be polite” which itself boils down to “follow these social contracts”, but it’s put in much grander terms.

4. Because of my blindness to social cues, there are many I don’t expect to see upheld, and so get along with others that also are blind to them.

This may include people on the autism spectrum (there’s one little one that has a special place in my heart), people that also have such learned traumas, and more.

5. Because I don’t uphold and/or break social cues I am blind to, I may come off as unapproachable, uncaring, ungrateful, mean, etc to people, even if they are not aware the reason for it is me Breaking or Not Upholding a social contract they have.

However, people that are NOT blind to social cues may be impacted by my failure to meet their expectations, even if they don’t realize they have those expectations. In so doing, they may have a harder time getting along with me (or me them), and it results in problems in the relationship, either early on (“first impressions last”) or later down the road (which may include “growing apart” by Not Upholding the social cue of staying in contact).

And this is life-changing for me.

I can adjust my behaviors to better align with social contracts. For instance, instead of saying “I really appreciate you doing this for me,” I can instead say “I really appreciate you doing this for me, thank you.” Whether the person has the “thank you” social contract or not, I would be upholding it.

I can also, because of my blindness to even the social cues I hold others to, ask myself when I have strong feelings about something, “what were your expectations for them?” This will help me identify them and either adjust my expectations or communicate them.

[blu-joons]

When She Compares You To Her Ex ~ Twice Reaction

Nayeon:

It took a moment for you to realise what you heard Nayeon say, taking a deep breath as you spun around to face her. “Say it again,” you told her, wanting to know that you were right.

“Y/N, don’t do this,” Nayeon told you, resting her head into her hands dejectedly.

Your head shook straight away back across at her, “tell me what you just said to me again, tell me how much you hate that I’m not as chatty as H/E/N was.”

“I don’t want to say it again,” Nayeon told you with a sigh, “I shouldn’t have even said it for the first time to you.”

“I can’t believe you decided to just say that to me.”

Nayeon struggled to know what to do as you looked away from her. “I can’t say sorry enough, it was so stupid of me.”

“I’ve done nothing to you,” you reminded her, something that she knew too. “You always told me that our relationship was a fresh start for you.”

She nodded in agreement with you, “it is a fresh start for me, I guess for some reason H/E/N just popped into my head.”

“Really?” You chuckled, “just a sudden reminder that they’re better.”

“They’re not better than you Y/N.”

Jeongyeon:

Your hands ran through your hair as Jeongyeon spoke, trying your best to keep yourself relaxed. “If H/E/N was so good to you then why don’t you go back to them instead?”

“Why would you say that?” Jeongyeon quizzed, looking cluelessly to you.

A roll of the eyes followed from you at how oblivious Jeongyeon was. “Do you not hear yourself making the constant digs at me about H/E/N, Jeongyeon?”

“When? I’ve never compared you to H/E/N,” she defended, surprised when your head shook back at her in response.

“You don’t even realise you’re doing it to me, do you?”

Jeongyeon shrugged as she struggled to know what to say, “if I’ve ever compared you to H/E/N, then I never meant to do it Y/N.”

“You do it so much it’s become a habit for you,” you identified, “all this time and you’ve never once realised how much it hurts me to be compared.”

Her head nodded as Jeongyeon listened intently to you, “if I ever do it again, tell me, and I’ll make sure that I apologise.”

“Every time?” You questioned, “because I could be doing it quite often.”

“Every single time you can do it.” 

Momo:

The moment that you heard Momo, you stood up from where you were, quickly looking around for your bag. “I shouldn’t be here,” you muttered to yourself as you moved.

“Y/N, where are you going?” Momo called out as she watched you move.

You looked back at her momentarily, “if you’re just going to keep sitting there and talking about H/E/N then what’s the point of me being here?”

“I’m not just talking about H/E/N,” Momo told you, surprised to see your head shaking back across as she protested.

“It’s all you’ve done today, what has gotten into you?”

A slight sigh came from Momo as she looked across at you, “I didn’t realise that I was doing it, I guess that it just came out.”

“Just came out?” You challenged, “I could appreciate if that happened once, but it’s about five times you’ve done it tonight, let alone the other times.”

You caught Momo’s head nodding out of the corner of your eye, “I’m sorry if I’ve upset you, but please just stay.”

“Will you stop talking about H/E/N?” You asked, “focus on me?”

“I promise that I’ll do that.”

Sana:

Your head shook in disbelief as you heard Sana speak, knowing that she knew exactly what she’d said too. “Why would you say that?” You asked, deciding to keep your voice calm.

“I didn’t mean to,” Sana mumbled, unable to bring herself to look at you.

After a few moments, you stood up from where you were sat. “I make one mistake and the first thing that you think to do is compare me to H/E/N?”

“I just didn’t know what to say,” Sana tried her best to tell you, “I should’ve thought and not said that at least.”

“Is this how it’s going to be when I’m not good enough?”

Sana’s head shook back at you straight away, “it was a one-time thing, I’d never say anything like that to you and really mean it.”

“If you didn’t mean it, then why say it?” You questioned, watching on as Sana stuttered, struggling to know what the right thing to say was in reply to you.

Sana looked back to you with a sigh, “I wish I could answer you, but I really don’t know why I said that just then.”

“I don’t know if that’s better,” you admitted, “I just don’t understand.”

“All that I can say is sorry Y/N.”

Jihyo:

You kept your eyes looking forwards as you heard Jihyo walk into the room, occupying yourself with your phone instead. “I’m busy,” you spoke as you felt her come closer.

“Don’t be like that,” Jihyo asked of you as she took a seat at the end of the bed.

Your head shook slightly as you felt the bed dip, letting go of a sigh. “If you’ve come here to tell me that you’re sorry or that you didn’t mean it, save it.”

“Of course, I’m sorry,” Jihyo quickly told you, “I shouldn’t have said what I said, there was no need for me to do it.”

“I can’t exactly argue with that, there really was no need.”

Jihyo shifted her body so that she was facing you properly, “I get why you’re mad, I don’t expect things to go back to normal either.”

“How can things just go back to normal?” You enquired. “How many times have I done something, and you’ve compared me to what H/E/N used to do.”

Jihyo struggled to know what to say as you asked your question, “not as often as you think that I have done.”

“You’ve still done it though,” you whispered, “and that’s what hurts me.”

“I know, and I really am sorry.”

Mina:

You could tell that Mina wasn’t exactly impressed as she walked into your apartment, looking around at the mess. “I’ve not had much time to be able to tidy I’m afraid.”

“Even H/E/N wasn’t this messy,” Mina jokingly remarked back to you.

Unlike Mina though, you weren’t laughing, the expression on your face blank. “I’m sorry that I can’t compare to H/E/N if that’s how you’re feeling then.”

“H/E/N?” Mina asked you as you quickly began to move around your apartment and put things where they belonged.

“You said H/E/N’s name, don’t even pretend like you didn’t.”

A faint sigh escaped from Mina, “I’m sorry, I thought it was a funny thing to say, but quite clearly it wasn’t a funny thing at all.”

“I don’t want to be like H/E/N because I’m Y/N,” you pointed out, “if that’s something you find hard, then maybe we need to rethink a few things.”

Mina began to move to help you to tidy up too, “I won’t mention H/E/N’s name ever again, there’s no need to.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, “I don’t need to be compared to anyone else.”

“Of course, no one is like you Y/N.”

Dahyun:

No one quite knew where to look as Dahyun mumbled to herself, with everyone hearing her. “Excuse me?” You asked her, feeling Momo’s arm move around you.

“What?” Dahyun innocently asked, feeling you and the girls staring at her.

A shake of the head came from Jihyo who was on the other side of you too, “do you not realise what you just said? Or are you just pretending it didn’t happen?”

“Me?” Dahyun quizzed, looking around to see everyone nodding back at her, completely taking her by surprise.

“Why did you decide to say Y/N isn’t as funny as H/E/N was?”

The smile on Dahyun’s face dropped as everyone carried on nodding. “Did I really say that? Y/N, I’m so sorry, I had no idea that I said that.”

“It’s not the first time,” you told her, feeling the other members move around you. “If I don’t make you smile, or laugh, then what’s the point of us Dahyun?”

Her head shook as she began to panic, “you do make me smile, and laugh, you’re the funniest person that I know.”

“Don’t say that,” you scolded, “because I know that you don’t mean it.”

“I do, I made a mistake Y/N.”

Chaeyoung:

Your smile was sheepish as you met Chaeyoung’s eyes, noticing her laughing across at you. “I don’t understand,” you admitted, knowing that she was confused as you shrugged.

“How do you not get how to do it?” Chaeyoung asked you, almost in disbelief.

You shrugged once again as your eyes briefly looked over the instructions. “I just don’t get all the pieces, why do they have to give you so many?”

“You’re as bad as H/E/N was when we used to try and build things to put up in my dorm,” Chaeyoung hummed to you.

“It’s nice to know that I’m not any worse than H/E/N was at least.”

You placed the bits that you were building down, pushing it away from you. “What are you doing? You can’t just give up because you’re struggling.”

“This isn’t what I’m struggling with,” you swiftly replied, “what I’m struggling with is you feeling the need to constantly see me in H/E/N’s shadow, Chaeyoung.”

As you stood up from the ground, Chaeyoung’s eyes followed you. “Where are you going? Are you leaving this?”

“I need space,” you told her. “Maybe you can give this a go instead of me.”

“Y/N, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Tzuyu:

There was a tension in the room as soon as Tzuyu arrived home, offering you a weak smile. “What are you doing here?” You snapped, opting not to entertain her at all.

“This is my home too,” Tzuyu reminded you as she took a seat in the room.

A sigh came from you knowing that you couldn’t argue with that. “Are you sure that you wouldn’t rather be with H/E/N instead, I bet their place is nice.”

“Why would I want to be at H/E/N’s, I’ve not spoken to them for months,” Tzuyu groaned, giving you your moment to get a dig in.

“If you don’t want to be with them, why are you talking about them?”

Tzuyu’s head nodded slowly as she began to figure how upset you were with her. “I didn’t mean to say what I said Y/N, it just came out a little bit wrong.”

“It came out of nowhere,” you whispered, feeling Tzuyu coming towards you, “this is our relationship, it has nothing to do with how you and H/E/N were.”

Her head continued to nod in agreement with you, “I can’t say sorry enough, you’re right, I should separate the two.”

“I’m not H/E/N,” you reminded her, “it would do you good to remember that.”

“I promise that I will from now on.”

---

Masterlist

[koushou]

an archon’s jealousy

pairing : zhongli x f!reader {fluff}

warnings : none! zhongli cuteness overload 

word count : 1.8k

a/n : genshin has taken over my life so enjoy my favorite peepaw 

the geo archon, once feared by all beings in teyvat, was known for his strength and abilities in battle, as well as his logical way of thinking and planning. his weakness? well, he’s definitely not great with emotions. especially jealousy.

“Ah, this painting reminds me of when an old friend and I had been travelling together for the first time, there was-” 

Zhongli turns around, smiling as he reminisces of events from hundreds of years ago, however turning into a frown quickly. 

His golden eyes scan the dining room, sighing as they fail to identify a certain someone. Placing his cup of tea down onto the polished wooden table, he walks out to the private balcony area of Wangmin Restaurant, breathing in the familiar fresh air of the nation he’d known for as long as he existed.

It had been two days.

Two days since he’s spoken to his lover, two days since the small quarrel you both had in the exact restaurant he’s currently standing in.

It had been quite a trivial matter in his opinion, when a young waitress working there had just been a tad kinder to the geo archon, leaving a few light touches here and there. Even “accidentally” spilling tea over herself, putting on a show of cleaning herself. 

Not noticing the dark glare of his lover from across the table, he offers the apologizing waitress a small smile, assuring her it wasn’t a big deal. As she walks away, he finally turns back to the now fuming Y/N who was shoving food down her throat to avoid speaking to him.

He chuckles softly, still unaware of the reason for your anger, “Love, slow down, the food isn’t going anywhere.”

Refusing to acknowledge his presence, you huff and continue chewing your food as if he wasn’t even there. Zhongli looks at you with a confused expression, but just before he had a chance to speak, the waitress returns.

She takes a few of your plates that were finished being used, occasionally sending small looks at your boyfriend, oblivious to the whole situation.

“I love your earring, Mr. Zhongli,” she bats her eyelashes at the man, your man, as she continues cleaning the table at record slow speed. 

“Ah, thank you.” He sends a small nod her way, not noticing the way she might as well be sitting on top of him with the close proximity of their two bodies. 

“Where did you get it from?” You roll your eyes while still focusing on your food, anyone could tell the way she was speaking in a faker, higher tone.

“Actually, they were gifted from an old friend of mine, we would travel together all the time and-” Zhongli goes off on one of his rants again, to the waitress’s pleasant surprise. To your shock, she takes a seat right next to your unsuspecting boyfriend who was still speaking, nodding along with his words. 

The audacity of this bi-

You slam your hands on the table abruptly, stopping Zhongli in his story as he looks up at you.

You shoot the coldest stare at him, one that even the geo archon, who had fought every monster, travelled to every corner of the world, swore sent shivers through his body.

“Love?”

“I’m finished, have fun on your date,” You spat, emphasizing the last word, and you could’ve sworn you saw the waitress roll her eyes.

Leaving Zhongli still in a confused state, you stormed out of the room, not paying mind to the distant protests of your boyfriend.

Zhongli sighs, snapping out of his thoughts, leaning against the railing of the balcony. He had walked out and tried to find you, but failed and you hadn’t appeared since.

After finally consulting Childe, the last person he’d ever want to speak to, about why you had acted like the way you did, he simply laughed at the man, claiming that you had been feeling jealous.

That had left Zhongli even more confused. Jealous? He was simply sharing his tales with a curious person, what was there to be jealous of?

He sighs again, ready to head back into the dining room until he spots a familiar figure below him.

You were standing below the balcony he was on, not seeming to realize he was there. Zhongli breathes a sigh of relief, oh how he missed seeing you. About to go down and surprise you, he stops in his tracks when he sees a young man walk up to you and begin talking.

An unfamiliar feeling seeps through his body when you laugh at something the stranger said, a wonderful sound he thought was reserved for him, and him only. 

You probably knew each other, that’s why you guys looked so close, right? Friends can laugh at each other, of course there was nothing wrong with the scene unfolding before the archon. That’s why the man’s hand had reached towards a stray strand of hair and tucked it behind your ear, right?

Zhongli grits his teeth, and makes his way down the restaurant as fast as his feet could take him.

He could hear you giggling upon walking out the restaurant’s doors, and quickly makes his way to you.

Walking up behind you, he slips an arm around your waist and pulls you softly back against his chest. 

You let out a surprised yelp, ready to attack whoever was touching you, until you turned and saw that it had just been your boyfriend, who seemed to be seething at the moment.

“Zhongli..?” Something about him seemed a little different, maybe it was the way he glared daggers into the other man who had just been talking to you and touching you. 

If looks could kill? Let’s just say The Wangsheng Funeral Parlor has an extra client today. 

“Hey love, I missed you,” Zhongli presses a kiss to your cheek, “Who might this be?” 

A bit flustered from the contact, you looked at the other man who seemed on the verge of peeing himself right there, and had to suppress a laugh.

“Ah, this is just a friend I met a few days ago when I was exploring, he-“

Before you could finish your sentence, the man stutters out an incoherent sentence and almost trips over himself running off in the other direction.

You raise an eyebrow, turning your head back to look at Zhongli who was still holding you protectively against him. He had created a small yellow meteor in his hand and was currently levitating it above his palm in a threatening manner.

He turns to you, putting the meteor away, smiling as he presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“Zhongli, you scared him away.”

He puts on a thinking face, nodding slowly.

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, no— That’s it? You probably scared the poor man into thinking you were going to murder him or somethin-”

He chuckles and raises your chin up to face him with one finger, “Then maybe next time, he should think before touching something that belongs to me.”

You huff, cheeks tinting the lightest shade of red before pushing him away.

“Whatever, I’m going now.”

You start to walk away, not before Zhongli catches your arm and stops you.

“Love, are you still angry?”

You could hear the concern in your boyfriend’s voice, and your heart softens a bit. In truth, you had already forgotten the incident back at the restaurant a few days ago and was about to apologize today when the man from before had stopped you. 

A lightbulb went off in your head, so you decide to play with him a little longer. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Snatching your hand back from his grasp, you continue walking away from your surprised boyfriend.

He quickly follows you, unsure of how to continue. He couldn’t just ask you if you had been jealous, could he?

As your boyfriend got lost in his thoughts of how to ask, you almost laughed at his intense thinking face while nervously walking beside you. 

“Uh, I-,” He cleared his throat before speaking.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you that day, I did not realize that it would have made you feel jealous.” 

He takes both of your hands in his, softly enveloping them as he continues.

“From now on, I promise that I’ll only share my stories with you, and you only, so don’t worry, love.”

He smiles at you, as you suddenly burst out in laughter. 

“What is so funny?” Zhongli asks, confused.

“Nothing, nothing at all, baby,” You finally recover from your laughing and wrap your arms around his waist.

Leaning your head against his chest, you couldn’t help but smile at the way your boyfriend thought you were upset because he was sharing his stories with another person, when you had just been jealous of another woman being so close to him. It was adorable.

Deciding not to tease him any further, you lift your head up from his chest to press a kiss against his lips. 

His eyes brighten instantly. “So, does this mean you forgive me?” 

If Zhongli was a dog, his tails would be wagging expectantly at you with puppy dog eyes right now.

You giggle, nodding at him. “Of course I forgive you, just don’t talk to other girls like that again.”

You pout, as he chuckles and leans down to give you another kiss. 

“I promise, love.” He softly strokes your hair, running the strands through his fingers.

“I also didn’t like seeing you with that man, so don’t let anyone besides me touch you, alright?”

You smile against him, nodding and opening your mouth to speak again when your stomach suddenly rumbles.

Eyes widening, you push away a now laughing Zhongli, embarrassed.

“I assume you’re hungry, my love?” He teases at you, taking your hand in his as he begins to walk the both of you back to Wangmin Restaurant.

“Who was the one who cut my meal short two days ago? I barely had anything to eat recently because I didn’t have any mora on me.” You take your hand out of his hold, crossing your arms and looking the other way.

He laughs softly at you, taking your hand back and kissing your knuckles softly. 

“Ah, you haven’t been eating welI?” He looks at you with concern laced in his golden eyes.

“I apologize, darling, but… I have something to confess to you.”

You turn to him, curious at his words. “What is it?”

“I..do not have mora on me at the moment either.”

“What?! You’re literally the god of mora, Zhongli, but you don’t even-“

He cuts you off short with a kiss, smirking against your lips as he feels you blush.

Pulling away, he chuckles and shrugs. “We can go ask Childe, come on.”

You laugh and continue walking with him, “Poor Childe, at least he’s useful for one thing.”

Zhongli lets out a laugh, as you two walk off, hand in hand, searching for your human wallet.

[gubler-me-up]

No Need to Rush

Request: can u pls do a spencer x bau fem! reader where she’s dyslexic but also a genius like spencer and like someone maybe another member of the team/unsub makes a comment abt her being stupid. and she gets really upset abt it. then later spencer comforts her and they have really romantic but rough sex. where he’s just like reassuring her of how smart and beautiful she is.

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! Sorry this took a lil long to complete but I wanted to make sure I wrote this accurately and incorporate everything you wanted into it! Please let me know if you don’t feel as if this representation of dyslexia sits right with you and I will edit it no problem. This fic also concludes smut week (woo!) so I hope you enjoy 💓 

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!reader

Category: Smut

Content warning: Learning disorder degradation, mentions of violence, rough sex, fingering, penetrative sex, creampie, choking

Word count: 3.2k

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

It was the dead of winter in Seattle, Washington and a sniper decided it was the best time to have some target practice. His target practice ended up taking three innocent people’s lives as they were living their day-to-day lives. To top off his killing spree, he wrote handwritten letters to the police department. His letters were rambles about him not stopping until he finds his final target.

Hotch had left Spencer and you to go over the letters to try and figure out any indications of who his final target could be. He had sent JJ and Morgan to interview the victim’s family members to try and see if there were any similar people in their circle. Having you four working diligently on piecing the entire story together could end up saving another person from meeting an early demise.

You loved working with Spencer because the two of you were always up to speed with your thinking process. Both of you analyzed each letter with care, making sure nothing was missed which could possibly be used as a clue in identifying who this person and who their real target is.

You felt as if you were taking too long to go through every letter. There were about 20 of them and his incoherent rambles were giving you a hard time efficiently reading them. You had 10 to go through and Spencer was already finished and writing on the whiteboard clues he found in the letters. You were still on your seventh letter, dissecting and writing down what you thought was important. You couldn’t help feeling bad you were taking a long time.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

Spencer looked back at you with a questionable expression. “For what?”

“For taking forever. I’m taking up time reading these letters when I should be brainstorming with you.”

“Y/N, you’re not slowing down the process. If anything you taking your time can identify some major evidence.”

“Yeah, but you could do it within two minutes.”

“Doesn’t mean anything. Valuable information is valuable information no matter how long it takes you to find it. Besides you’re the smartest person I know, so nothing will get past you.”

“Doesn’t feel like it sometimes.”

“I’m here to remind you it’s all the time. I’ll be here to remind you every day if you ever doubt yourself.”

You smiled as you felt your worries drifting away. You were always self-conscious about having dyslexia. Growing up with it was the hardest part of your early years because people would see your extraordinary capabilities but questioned them whenever you had to read or spending longer than usual completing tasks. It was embarrassing for you. Even in adulthood you felt anxious about letting people know you were dyslexic because you were worried they wouldn’t see you as a genius.

When you let the members of the team know you were dyslexic, they accepted you as you were. It made you feel welcomed and understood for once in the longest while. It was especially nice hearing Spencer say you were a genius regardless of your dyslexia. You felt as if he understood you the most out of everyone because he had a rough time growing up as a child prodigy.

As you continued to read through the letter you were on, something caught your eye. You looked up at the whiteboard to see what Spencer had written. He had written about sunsets, trees and a park. He had concluded it was about Kerry Park in Seattle and speculated the unsub could possibly live near there. What you had read though made you think of a different possibility.

“Kelly Park,” you said aloud.

Spencer turned to you. “Kelly Park?”

Before you could explain your findings, Hotch and detective Royce entered the room. You were happy they did, so you could explain to everyone your theory as to who the unsays actual target is.

“Find any useful information we can put towards finding the unsub?” Hotch asked.

You nodded. “Yes. Kelly Park’s the end goal.”

“Kelly Park? You mean Kerry Park by West Highland,” detective Royce said.

“No, I mean, yes, but the unsub slipped up…uh no, they-uh- replaced Kelly with Kerry because there is a Kelly Park who lives nearby,” you explained.

“Wait, so is it Kerry or Kelly the name of the person who lives nearby Kerry’s Park?” Hotch asked.

“Sorry, sir. It’s Kelly Park who lives nearby Kerry’s Park.”

“How can you even speculate that?” Detective Royce asked.

“Because it’s in this letter. He says, ‘I spend my days looking at Kelly Park and wondering when I’d be brave enough to leave. I don’t think I am but one day I’ll be free,’” you said while holding it up.

Detective Royce took it from your hand to take a closer look. He furrowed his eyebrows as he read. He looked back up at you questionably.

“Maybe he’s dyslexic. Only an idiot would write Kelly instead of Kerry when referring to Kerry Park,” he said.

You clenched your jaw as he said his ignorant statement. You knew the unsub wasn’t dyslexic and you had a clue right infant of you. You snatched the letter away from his hands as you took a deep breath to calm yourself down.

“I’m actually dyslexic myself and I can tell you right now this unsub is not,” you said.

“I should have known from the time you mixed up Kerry and Kelly in your explanation. For a genius you sure don’t talk like one,” he said.

You felt your eyes stinging from the tears which were trying to breakthrough. What he said was familiar to everything you heard from your childhood. It was degrading to hear it when you knew you were on to something. Especially evidence which could potentially save someone.

“Don’t talk to one of my agents with such disrespect, Royce. My team and I would never slander your team, so we expect the same courtesy back,” Hotch said.

“Hotchner, you can’t seriously believe this is a connection,” detective Royce said.

“Who said it couldn’t be?” Spencer said.

“Common sense. He’s trying to mess up his words on purpose to take us off track from what really matters,” detective Royce said.

“Well, I’m not taking that risk. While you stand there with your arro…ignorance, I’ll actually go and do something about this piece of evidence,” you said as you walked by him to exit the room.

You could feel your heart drop with every step you took. Before you called Garcia you took a trip to the washroom. You went into a stall and made sure it was locked before you let your tears escape. You hadn’t felt humiliated for the longest time. The questionable look and harsh comments detective Royce spat at you made you feel sick. You knew you were smart and you knew you were onto evidence to save someone’s life. Yet you were doubted.

You wiped your tears away and took a few deep breaths before exiting the stall. You couldn’t let what he said distract you from finding Kelly Royce. You knew it would affect you for the rest of the day but you would sleep better at night knowing you saved a life. You didn’t want to be crying over two things tonight.

------

You sat on the edge of the hotel room bed. You had finished getting ready for the night and were ready to get into bed to forget about the day. You were happy you were right about Kelly Park and saved her hours before she was scheduled to go into the heart of Seattle for an appointment. Her ex-boyfriend, Michael Richards, had plotted for months on how to make her death look like an accident. Too bad his guilty conscience and ego didn’t mix well and he compulsively wrote down his thoughts.

It bothered you immensely detective Royce still didn’t give you your flowers at the end of everything. You understood not everyone would apologize for their ignorance and you should be used to it by now. However, you couldn’t help but think about it over and over.

You heard a few light knocks on your hotel room door. You looked at the clock. It was 11 p.m. You got up to go peek through the peephole to see who was trying to get your attention this time of night. You looked through the peephole and saw Spencer standing outside. You opened the door. As you opened it he looked at you with a smile but you could see the concern in his eyes.

“What brings you to this part of town so late?” You asked.

“I want to make sure you’re okay before you go to bed. I know how frustrating today was for you and I don’t want you going to bed with doubt on your mind,” he explained.

You stepped aside and gestured him to come inside your hotel room. You were happy he had stopped by. He was always the first one to give you words of encouragement and a reason to put your doubts aside. You closed the door and made your way over to the edge of the bed to sit. You patted the spot next to you for him to sit down. He took the seat next to you, sitting closer to you than expected. You two were shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh. It was comforting to you for him to be so close.

“You know, if it wasn’t for you pointing out Kelly Park in his letter, she might not be alive,” he said.

“I know and I’m glad it worked out in the end. I just…”

You trailed off as a wave of doubt overthrew your thought process. You started to think if you had been wrong, if it were just your dyslexia getting the best of you, an innocent life could have been taken. A tear slipped from your right eye. You quickly wiped it away before Spencer saw. He must have seen it escape because he placed his hand on your thigh and squeezed it.

“You have a beautiful mind, Y/N,” he assured you.

“It doesn’t translate properly when I say the wrong words, read slower than average, mix up-”

“And all that doesn’t make a difference to how you save lives every day. If detective Royce wasn’t so prideful he would have thanked you properly for bringing to light what they brushed off,” he said.

You chuckled. “Yeah, he is a prideful idiot.”

“Exactly, so don’t let him or other doubters get to you. I believe in you wholeheartedly and always will. The team does as well, so we’ll always back you up.”

You smiled brightly at him as you felt your deep sadness fade away. He had such a way with words you felt as if you could rule the world solely based on his encouragement. You opened up your arms and embraced him in a hug. He wrapped his arms around the small of your back. He rubbed your back gently as you placed your head comfortably in the crook of his neck.

“I love how you’re always here for me, Spence,” you whispered into his neck.

“I’ll always be here to remind you of your worth and beauty,” he said.

You leaned up from his neck and faced him straight on. Your faces were just an inch away from each other as you lost yourself in his eyes. You softly smiled and found yourself saying things before your brain could process them.

“I could just kiss you right now,” you blurted out.

“Why don’t you?” He asked.

You were now speechless as you weren’t expecting him to be open to the idea. Perhaps he did find more than just your mind to be beautiful. One of his hands moved from your back and found its way to the side of your face. He moved your face closer to his and your lips finally met each other. He gently eased his tongue into your mouth before he dived fully into your mouth.

You placed your hands on his chest. You pulled on his shirt to bring him forward even more to minimize the space between you two. He moved his hands and placed them both on your hip. He brought you onto his lap without breaking your kiss. You glued your hands to his face to prevent him from even considering moving away from you. His hands squeezed before slipping his hands down your pyjama pants.

You didn’t give it a second thought and raised yourself off his hips so he could pull your pants off along with your underwear. He leaned away from your lips as he stared at you with a deep yearning in his eyes. He caressed his hands up your thighs, to your hips and then under your shirt. He pulled your shirt off to reveal your bare breasts.

“I hope you like what you see,” you said.

He smiled. “Of course. You’re beautiful beyond words.”

He then placed your right nipple in his mouth and swirled his tongue around your nipple. You moaned loudly as his tongue made your nipple feel a stimulation you never thought they could feel. He freed your nipple from his mouth as he quietly hushed you.

“We can’t let anyone know where in the same room together,” he whispered.

“I don’t care,” you said as you desperately leaned into him to steal another kiss.

He kissed you back. You held his head in place so he wouldn’t dare move away from you again. You soon felt his thumb circling around your clit. It wasn’t enough to make you stop kissing him but it made you release endless moans into his mouth. You then felt him shove two fingers into you which made you stop kissing him and set your moans free into the atmosphere. He pumped his fingers in and out of you so quickly you couldn’t find the time to catch your breath.

“If you can’t handle my fingers, how do you expect to handle my dick, beautiful?” He asked.

“I…I can,” you stammered.

He smiled. “I haven’t doubted you yet, have I??”

He took his fingers out of you and went to work on undoing his pants. You stared down at his huge bulge as he slipped down his pants and then his underwear. Your eyes widened as you saw his dick. He looked at you to see the amazement in your eyes. He softly chuckled as he grabbed your ass and squeezed it tight as he brought you forward to position you.

“Sit down on it and try not to be too loud,” he demanded.

You did what he asked and lowered yourself onto his dick. The further you went beyond the tip the more your mouth went agape. You could barely even get to the base without feeling as if his dick was already completely inside of you. He did you the favour and forced you all the way down on his dick. You let out a shriek which was cut short by him sticking his two fingers coated in your juices inside your mouth.

“Bounce on it and don’t make a sound. Understand?” He asked.

He nodded your head ‘yes’ for you and you started bouncing on his dick. You could feel your legs quaking as you engulfed his dick in and out of your repeatedly. Once you established a rhythm, you rolled your eyes to the back of your head and enjoyed every inch of his dick stretching your walls.

“How about we pick up the pace?” He asked.

Your eyes shot open as he bucked his hips up and disrupted your rhythm with his new set motion. You moaned heavily around his fingers as his dick kept ramming into you with no mercy. He used his other hand and squeezed your left breast. He licked your breasts before gently biting your nipple.

“Fuck,” you moaned.

“I only ever treat extraordinary women like this,” he said.

“Really?” You moaned.

He lifted you off his dick and laid you on the bed. He gently wrapped his large hands around your throat as he positioned himself on top of you. You could feel your adrenaline pumping as he lowered his face down to yours and kissed you softly on your lips before he stared into your eyes.

“You’re the only extraordinary woman I know,” he said.

“Fuck me like an extraordinary woman,” you said.

He obliged and rammed his dick into you with urgency. You moaned repeatedly as you took in every inch of his dick inside of you. He kissed along your jawline before reaching your ear.

“Who gets fucked like this?” He asked.

“Extraordinary women,” you whimpered.

“And what are you?” He asked.

“An extraordinary woman,” you whimpered.

As he continued to fuck some sense into you, he whispered nothing but the sweetest things in your ear. He called you beautiful, brilliant, amazing and his favourite, extraordinary. It felt nice hearing those things being repeated over and over in your ear especially by him. His dick definitely enforced the message as with every word he said to you, his motion would intensify. You wrapped your legs around him as he continued to fuck you.

“Where do you want me to cum, beautiful?” He asked.

“Inside of me,” you moaned.

He tightened the grip around your neck. “Louder.”

“Inside of me,” you shrieked.

“Look at me while I cum inside of you,” he demanded.

He grabbed your face to keep you still so your eyes were focused on him the whole time. He bit his bottom lip as he stared at your worn-out expression as he fucked you. He slowly stopped going at his rapid pace and soon stopped. You felt his cum fill your insides and you let out a soft moan at the feeling.

He let go of your neck and eased up from on top of you. You felt him stick two fingers in you and he pulled them out quickly. He placed his cum covered fingers on your lips. You opened your mouth and licked the cum dripping off his fingers.

“I don’t ever want you to doubt yourself again. You’re fucking amazing,” he said.

You leaned up on your elbows and smiled. “You are too.”

“Since I can’t stay in your room for the night without raising suspicions in the morning, how about we do something when we get back home and you can stay the night at my place? You know, for extra reassurance,” he said with a smile.

You giggled. “I’d love that.”

He leaned into you and gave you another big kiss on the lips. As he parted from your lips he stared at you with softer eyes from before and brushed your hair back.

“Maybe I’ll stay for a few more minutes. You like cuddles?” He asked.

“I love them,” you said.

He chuckled. “Great because I have a deep desire to cuddle you and make you know you’re treasured.”

You could have cried when he said that. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck and pecked him on the lips. It wasn’t the best time to cry. You wanted to cherish the moment as a positive part of the day.

“Thank you, Spence. You’re extraordinary.”

“I guess that makes us a perfect match.”

“It sure does.”

—–

Tagged: @shadyladyperfection​, @slutforthegubes​, @pinkdiamond1016​, @spencerreidsthings​, @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​, @slutforsr​ @bxtchboy69​, @fallinallinmendes​

MASTERLIST

[phoebe-delia]

Has anyone asked for song #1 yet? I'm very curious which song you're listening to most.

I really enjoy your writing in combination with the song prompts! Thank you for sharing it with the world!

Hello darling! Thank you for this ask. As a matter of fact, no one has requested 1!

My number 1 song is the explicit version of "Potential Breakup Song" by Aly and AJ.

I know, I thought it would be a Taylor Swift song, too! I will say, this playlist was from Apple Music and I recently started using Spotify more so idk if this is still accurate for my current No. 1 song, but it's still a bop.

This is a bit of a challenge, but I figure if I can write a fic based on "Yeah!" by Usher, I can give this a try. This fic will be *mostly* funny and fluffy but there's some angst with a happy ending.

5 Times Draco Almost Broke Up With Harry

1.

"Tell me something," Draco said shyly, tracing patterns into Harry's bare arm. Sunlight streamed into the living room, dust motes dancing in the rays.

"What do you mean?"

"Something I don't already know about you."

"Like what?"

Draco's expression turned exasperated. "I don't know, Harry, that's rather the point."

"Right...er, okay, here's something you don't know about me. I don't like whipped cream."

Draco looked at him, startled. "You don't?"

"Er, no. I also don't like marshmallows or--"

"What?"

"Or avocado, or eggs."

Draco sputtered. "What is wrong with you?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Merlin, here we go."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Every time I tell people the foods I don't like, they get all indignant and huffy," Harry waved a hand. "It's so weird. Like I've offended them by disliking meringue."

"You don't like meringue?! That's it, I'm breaking up with you."

Harry groaned. "I regret this. I regret everything. Just--forget it."

Draco sighed. "No, no I'm sorry. In my exaggerated teasing, I see how I might've struck a nerve."

"It's fine--I'm just tired of people taking my food preferences as a personal insult."

"I take everything you do as a personal insult."

Harry just chuckled. "That you do, Draco, that you do."

2.

"POTTER!!"

"WHAT?"

"GET IN HERE!"

"WHERE'S 'HERE'?"

"TAKE A WILD GUESS, AUROR POTTER!"

....

"Ah, good to see that your tracking skills aren't too hopeless. Now, care to tell me what's wrong with this picture?"

"Er...you're angry?"

"Yes, I am angry--and the reason for that is obvious if you merely look around the room and see if you can identify what might be bothering me."

"You get really formal when you're upset."

"Potter--"

"And you call me Potter."

"If only you would use your powers of observation for discovering the cause and not the symptoms of my frustration, this conversation would be over."

...

"Is it my socks?"

"Your socks, your pants, your shirt, your trousers--all in a heap in the closet."

"So? I haven't done laundry in a while."

"Potter, you do realize there are laundry spells, don't you? So that dirty clothes don't stink up one's closet?"

"...No?"

Sigh. "Alright, I suppose I won't move out this time."

"Oh, what a relief."

"Was that sarcasm?"

"Never. Especially not toward you, baby."

"I should hope not. Now, c'mere and let me teach you the spell."

3.

"I can't believe you'd betray me like this." Draco shook his head mournfully, bits of snow falling from the top of his warm hat. "I trusted you."

Harry scoffed. His breath fogged in the air. "I told you this was happening today. It's not my fault you weren't listening."

"Asking me post-coital if I'd like to attend the Weasley Family Brunch is Slytherin-level manipulation."

"Did I ever tell you the Sorting Hat almost put me in Slytherin?"

"What?" Draco stopped walking, turning to Harry in shock.

"Yeah. Told me I'd do well. But you'd been such an arse to Ron that I begged it to sort me anywhere else."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Of course. Honestly, I did you a favor. You were practically made for Gryffindor."

"Who knows? Maybe we'd have been friends back then."

Draco glared and Harry snickered.

"You know, Potter, between your little jokes and this stunt you pulled, I'm one insult away from Apparating on the spot and leaving you here."

Harry smiled fondly. Taking Draco's hand, he led them toward the Burrow, its warm light a welcome destination in the icy weather.

"Nah, you won't, you know why?"

"Why?"

Harry smirked. "Because then we won't get to be post-coital together."

Draco scowled. Harry laughed.

4.

"Don't say a word."

"Can I just--"

"Harry."

"But I--"

"Potter. Shut up.

...

"Draco I'm sorry--"

"Harry, what is the one thing I asked you to do when you became an Auror?"

"...Don't be stupid."

"Yes. I asked you not to do anything stupid. I asked you not to impulsively put yourself in harm's way."

"Draco it's my job to protect my partner, and--"

"You don't think I understand that? Of course I do! I can't fault you for being a loyal partner, Harry, but running into a hostage situation without calling for backup is the absolute dumbest thing you could've done! You nearly died!"

"But I didn't! And the case is over now."

"You were in St. Mungos for nearly a week! Do you know how agonizing it was to see you like that? Do you--" Draco's voice cracked and he cut himself off, turning away from Harry.

Harry's heart clenched. He walked up to Draco and wrapped strong arms around him from behind, expecting to be pushed away. Instead, Draco leaned into the touch.

"I know your job has its risks, Harry, but the least you can do is not create them for yourself. You said the Sorting Hat nearly put you in Slytherin; some self-preservation would be good for you."

Harry sighed, nuzzling Draco's neck. "Okay. I'll try."

Draco turned in his arms, looking at Harry with wet eyes. "Good. The last thing I want to do is break up with you, but I couldn't handle it if I lost you any other way, I--" The tears spilled at that. Draco's face flushed in embarrassment, in anguish.

Harry's chest constricted. He pulled Draco close to himself and stroked his hair, letting the other man cry his fears into his shirt.

"I won't let it happen, Draco. I promise."

Draco nodded, his cheek brushing Harry's shirt.

Harry smiled. They'd be okay.

5.

Draco was going to kill Harry.

He was going to break up with him, and then kill him, and then revive him just to break up with him once more.

He cast a Tempus. 8:20.

Over an hour. Over an hour he'd been waiting for Harry to return home. He was beginning to get hot in his tailored suit, despite the cooling charms.

He hadn't heard anything. No Owl, no Floo, no nothing. Either Harry had no respect for decorum or...

Nope. Draco couldn't go there, wouldn't. Harry promised and he always kept his promises.

Suddenly, the Floo roared to life, making Draco jump. Harry stumbled through with a panicked expression on his face, dusting the Floo powder from his formal robes.

"Draco! Merlin, I'm so sorry, I thought I had time and then everything got all screwed up and I got here as fast as I could."

Draco sighed. "It's fine, Harry, let's just order takeaway."

"Why?"

"Well, we missed our reservation. Cerise won't wait for more than thirty minutes."

Harry pursed his lips. "What if I had something else in mind?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

With a smirk, Harry tossed him a hairbrush, which Draco caught with Seeker instinct.

"Harry wh--" His eyes widened as he felt the pull of a portkey, the sound of Harry's amused laughter echoing behind him.

He landed with a thud on a balcony. After a crack, Harry appeared next to him, gasping to catch his breath for a moment.

"Potter, what the fuck?"

Harry chuckled. "Surprise! Look around, Draco."

Draco's breath caught as he finally took in his surroundings. They were standing on a balcony in Paris, confirmed by the sight of La Tour Eiffel in the distance. The lights of the city twinkled like stars below them. On the balcony were two chairs and a small table with hot food under a stasis charm. A bottle of wine and two glasses sat ready for them. Draco checked the label and confirmed with a gasp that it was a 1989 Chateau Lafleur.

"Harry, I--" Draco turned around but was startled into silence at the sight of Harry on his knee, a hopeful smile on his face and a small black box in his hand.

Draco's eyes went wide. "What?" He breathed.

Harry bit his lip. "Draco, I'm sorry I don't like whipped cream. I'm sorry I forget to do laundry, and that I dragged you to Sunday dinner. I'm sorry that I worry you sometimes because my job is dangerous. I'm sorry I run late to our dates sometimes.

But I promise to give you the avocado from my sandwich. I promise to try to remember the spells you taught me, and to use my manipulative powers for good and not evil. I promise I'll use better judgment in the field. And I promise I'll try to be on time for our dates.

And I promise to do all of this for as long as I can, as long as you let me. And if you do--if you promise to love me for the rest of our lives--I promise to do the same. Draco Malfoy, will you marry me?"

Draco let out a delighted, euphoric laugh. "Yes, yes of course I'll marry you!"

Harry grinned and rose from his knee to pull Draco into a nearly bruising kiss. When they pulled apart, they pressed their foreheads together and looked as Harry slid the ring, a simple silver band with tiny emeralds, onto Draco's finger.

As they ate dinner, looking out over the city, Harry gave him a cheeky grin. "So, tell me, how'd I do?"

Draco raised his eyebrows. "With tonight? The proposal?"

"Yeah, what'd you think? I hope it made up for me being late. I'm sure you were about ten minutes from breaking up with me," Harry said with a chuckle.

Draco shook his head and smirked. "No, Harry," he raised the glass of wine to his lips. "I'd never do that."

Send me an ask about Harry Potter, broadway/musicals, The West Wing, and/or Taylor Swift! Or just about life in general :).

Also, I have a playlist of my 99 most listened-to songs of the year so far. Pick a number 1--99 and send me an ask and I'll write you a fic based on it!

[baebywendy]

I need to get this off my chest. The whole Jae situation and how fans are trying to defend him, honestly pisses me off. The word Thot itself has been thrown around by men to degrade people especially those who identify themselves as a woman. I saw people say well they’re friends and I just shake my head at it. Why would you go on a steaming platform or do a live and make fun of your friend in that matter? Even if it’s a inside joke between you guys, there’s a reason why it’s a inside joke. It’s clear Jamie didn’t think it was funny and everything she said I agreed with.

It doesn’t sit right with me that right before he said “now that I’m out of kpop I can say this” which insinuates ��that he has thought about this for awhile now but just couldn’t say it because of JYP. It’s very telling who’s a good person because they’re a good person and who’s a good person because they have a contract to fulfill. His apology that happened today honestly, it felt like a youtuber apology. He looked tired and made his appearance not the best to gain sympathy from his fans. I can imagine his fans saying well he looked so tired, you can clearly see the toll it has on him. His fans can also say that he did apologize if someone every brings this situation up again. It’s clearly a tactic to keep his fans because he barely addressed the word Thot and how it has a negative connotations from what I saw. Another thing that I hate, when public figures apologize they don’t talk about how it affects the community or the person they just go oh that was stupid I’m sorry and that’s it. It doesn’t really show that you have learned anything, in my opinion.

This goes behind kpop in my opinion, for years woman has always been the butt end of a joke or jokes towards comedians and just causal conversations. It’s not okay because when a woman tries to make a joke about men then it’s a problem, an outrage if you will. I think they’re shouldn’t be any jokes regarding someone’s sexual history or behavior because again it only degrades them and that’s not what should happen in this day age. Sure you can make those jokes with your friends in a private matter only if they’re comfortable with the jokes. We could also talk about the many rap songs that degrade woman and this and that but that would be too much baggage for me.

I would like to think Jae is sorry but at the same time I just don’t see it because of what he said before he called Jamie a Thot. Also from all the clips I’ve seen it was unprovoked from his end. I saw someone say that kpop Stan’s will do anything to defend the men in kpop and honestly I agree with that. The misogyny that’s within the kpop fandom needs to be talked about more because it gets clearer everyday for me. I know if a female idol called a male idol a Thot, I know that almost every kpop Stan would cancel them. I would bet so much money on that. I was waiting for Jamie’s reaction to this and Jae’s apology to comment so I can just end it. It’s ver worrisome to see people defend on this matter when the victim (Jamie) is clearly upset about the matter.

[jinx-jade]

A Fairy’s protection Chapter 3

“I’m sure your wife will love them, Mr. Hade!” Marinette heard Mia, one of the young teens she had employed by Lao’s recommendation, cheer as she most likely waved goodbye to the older gentleman.

Mia was the only employee in the shop today due to it being a school day. 

“It’s a wonder that she found such ‘respectful’ and ‘clean’ children to help around the shop.” Marinette heard one of the more uptight, rich snob customers comment to her friend.

Mia tensed a bit but kept her head down and continued working and helping other customers.

“She’s truly lucky. I haven’t once seen a ‘street vermin’ near this lovely flower shop.” The woman’s friend responded, causing the first woman, who Marinette has now identified as Mrs. King’s daughter, Zoe King, to laugh.

Mrs. King was one of Marinette’s regulars. She was always coming in for teas and treats, sometimes bringing her friends to gossip and snack. Marinette wasn’t too fond of some of the company Mrs. King kept but Mrs. King herself always made pleasant company.

Marinette let out a sigh and made her way to Zoe and her friend. With the way Mia's energy would tense and swirl with hurt and annoyance Marinette figured it would be best to get them to stop the insult-laced comments.

“Can I help you?” Marinette questioned the two teens in a sweet voice.

Zoe’s friend scoffed, most likely about to make a rude comment when Zoe placed a hand on her arm as if to tell her to be quiet or watch what she says.

“Hello, Miss Dupain-Cheng,” Zoe said in a pleasant well-mannered voice vastly different from her previous gossiping voice.

The energy of Zoe’s friend was confused by the sudden change of attitude.

“Miss Zoe, I didn’t realize you walked in. Is Mrs. King here as well? If so, I can mix up a batch of teas for her.” Marinette greets, gesturing for them to follow her as she made her way back to the front counter.

Zoe followed hesitantly her head hung a little lower than her usually ‘picture-perfect’ posture. Her friend followed after Zoe curiously.

Zoe’s energy was swirling around in shame and nervousness. Her friend’s energy swirling around in annoyance and curiosity.

“Actually Miss, My mother isn’t here. I came with my friend Clare to look at the flowers and get some treats.” Zoe informed Marinette, trying to mask her nerves as she spoke.

They had already reached the front counter, Marinette turning to face Zoe and the newly dubbed Clare.

“It’s a shame that Mrs. King couldn’t come in,” Marinette said with a thoughtful expression.

“I’ll just have to give her a ring and ask what kind of tea she would like,” Marinette said, with a deciding nod. “ Oh! Mrs. King had mentioned that Mr. King was interested in the teas as well. Perhaps I could get his opinion?”

Zoe and Clare seemed to panic at that, but before either girl could stop her from calling, the phone answered, and Mrs. King’s voice rang through it with crystal clarity.

“Hello?” Mrs. King questioned.

“Sorry to bother you, Mrs. King, I was wondering what teas you would like mixed up?” Marinette asked, her voice as sweet and innocent as ever.

“Oh! Miss Dupain-Cheng! My apologies, I didn’t save the shop’s number.” Mrs. King says, causing Marinette to giggle.

“There’s no need to apologize Mrs. King, and I thought I said you could call me Marinette. My last name is such a mouthful,” Marinette informs her. Mrs. King only gave a light laugh in response.

“That’s right you did.” There was a pause on the other end of the phone. Mrs. King seemed to be talking to a man, most likely Mr. King. “Sorry. It seems my husband and I have somewhere to be. Is there a reason for this call?” Mrs. King asked.

“Uhm,” Marinette lets out a hum as if trying to remember before she made eye contact with Zoe.

 “Oh! I wanted to know what kind of tea you and Mr. King would like? I figured since Miss Zoe and Miss Clare were already in the shop they could bring it back for you.” Marinette said as if she had just remembered.

The other end of the phone went dead silent. When a voice filtered through the phone it was not Mrs. Kings.

“Hello, Miss Dupain-Cheng, this is Mr. King. My wife and I will be at your shop in a bit to pick out tea mixes. Could you keep an eye on my daughter and Miss Odle?” Mr. King states more than asks.

“Sorry, but I’ll have to have one of my employees keep an eye on them. Would that be acceptable?” Marinette asked, knowing that not all parents like leaving their children with strangers. Mr. King had probably only been ok with the idea of her watching Zoe and Clare due to Mrs. King already knowing her.

Mr. King sounded like he wanted to disagree or ask why she couldn’t watch the children when the King’s voices became muffled as Mrs. King spoke with her husband.

“Ehr. Uhm. My apologies, I wasn’t aware that you are missing your sight, Miss. Dupain-Cheng. A trusted employee of yours will be acceptable to watch over my daughter and Miss Odle.” Mr. King informed her.

The call ended, Zoe and Clare looking a bit pale.

“Why don’t you young ladies take a seat at one of the tables. I’ll have Mia keep an Eye on you, per Mr. King’s request,” Marinette said, handing a plate of treats to the girls.

Clare took the plate with a quick thank you and quickly moved to sit at the tables with Zoe.

“Mia,” Marinette called, raising her hand a lazily to call over the young employee.

Mia walked over to Marinette, having seen the whole scene with the King and Odle girls.

“Yes, Miss?” Mia cheered, with a smile.

“You remember Mrs. King, Yes?” Marinette questioned.

“Mrs. King is one of your regulars. The sweet lady who looks too young for what age she says?” Mia said curiously.

Marinette chuckled. “That sounds about right, her voice makes her seem young as well. Anyway, those two young ladies, one of them is Mrs. King’s daughter, the other is her friend. Mr. King wants an eye kept on them.” Mia nodded her head.

“I’ll keep an eye on them for you, Miss.” Mia cheered before disappearing towards the table.

Mrs. and Mr. King came in fifteen or so minutes later, Mrs. King directing them to the front counter when it was clear that Mr. King wanted to go towards Zoe and Clare.

Marinette had given Mr. King some tea samples to try as Mrs. King picked out the mixes she had already decided on. Once they had chosen their tea Marinette began wrapping them up. She was almost finished packing the order when they heard a scream and then aloud slap ring through the air.

Everyone in the shop’s attention turned to the table that had the young King and Odle heiresses and who appeared to be a shop employee.

The shop employee was holding her cheek with tears in her eyes, causing a clear picture to form in everyone’s heads about what had happened.

The Odle heiress seemed to have been the one to slap the employee, seeing as the King heiress was in shock, seated on the opposite side of the table.

Marinette put down the package and made her way to the table stepping in between Mia and Clare.

“Is there a reason for your assault against my employee, Miss Clare?” Marinette said in a neutral tone of voice.

A few of the adults tensed at the words Marinette used.

“This street rat spilled water all over my designer dress!” Clare huffed, still very upset.

Marinette was about to say something when Mia placed a hand on her arm.

“I’m fine Miss,” Mia claimed, removing the hand that was covering her face with a slit hiss.

The others in the store gasped in shock. Mia had a split lip with heavy bruising already appearing on her cheek.

Marinette cleared her throat getting everyone’s attention.

“If everyone could leave so I can close the shop and take this I would be very grateful,” Marinette claimed in an authoritative tone of voice. The people left the shop without much fuss.

“Mr. and Mrs. King, you are free to take Miss Zoe and leave, but I will have to ask Miss Clare to stay. If you could give me a number to contact Miss Clare’s parents or guardians that would be helpful as well.” Marinette states.

Mrs. King told Marinette Mrs. Odle’s private number. After typing it in she selected the call button.

The call itself took no more than fourteen or fifteen minutes, the Odle’s arriving half an hour later. 

The perks of being in the business district Marinette guessed.

The Odle’s had only been in the shop for a minute or two when a police car parked outside the building and its driver, a man in a police uniform with black hair and blue eyes walked in.

Tag list: @Moon5608 @animegirlweeb @asrainterstellar @toodaloo-kangaroo @mystery-5-5 @casual-darkness @user00000003 @iloontjeboontje @alyssadliv @jayjayspixiepop @corporeal-terrestrial @all-mights-asscheeks @adrestar @moonlightstar64

[hockeyboysimagines]

All good boys go to Heaven but bad boys bring Heaven to you

Chapter 6

Warnings: language, sex, a fist fight, (tw) stalking, lots of angst, and some fluff.

Sorry it’s taken so long. I’ve been trying to get Say it to me softly out, and now it’s finished so this will be updated more regularly. This is a very appropriate gif for this chapter. Stay tuned💕

“Chucky watch out!” Matt turned just as a puck cracked off the side of his helmet and sent him tumbling to the ice. He hadn’t been paying attention during practice, instead thinking all the ‘not sleeping’ he had done the night before. He could hear Noah and Johnny laughing as they skated over and helped him up. He deserved that one.

“Dude you gotta pay attention. What’s going on in there today space cadet?”

He wanted nothing more than to tell them. He was not only thinking about Hallie, but also about the mysterious flowers that had obviously rattled her. So he went with amended version of the truth.

“We’ll actually.” He turned to Noah and leaned on his stick “Has Hallie ever mentioned like a bad boyfriend or anything?”

Noah looked at the ceiling and chewed on his lip for a moment before he shook his head “I don’t think so, not to me anyway. Why?”

He chose his words carefully, keeping his expression cool “Well I showed up at her place yesterday and made her have dinner with me, and while I was there she said she got flowers and she assumed they were from me. But I didn’t send her any, and she got all fucking weird about it.”

“Was there a card?”

He shook his head “No but she was definitely upset. I offered to stay but she said it was fine.”

Johnny rolled his eyes and gave him a shove “Of course you did.”

“I can ask Carly if you want. They tell eachother everything.”

“No it’s okay. I don’t wanna invade her privacy or anything. Just seemed weird to me.”

They went back to running drills but his mind was still elsewhere. The more he thought about it the more her behavior bothered him. She had seemed upset, anxious, and scared and the whole thing had rubbed him the wrong way. He didn’t want to get involved in her business but it was really bothering him.

*******

“Come on Hal we’re going to be late.” Carly complained as Hallie shoved her feet into her shoes. She locked the door behind her and dig around in her bag as they took the elevator and exited her building towards the parking lot.

As they walked through the parking lot, she was still digging for her keys when she felt Carly’s hand on her arm forcing her to stop.

“Hal?”

Hallie looked up and felt the blood feeeze in her veins. Rose petals littered her car, moving very gently in the breeze. She took a step backwards turning her head this way and that but the parking lot was empty. She turned slowly towards Carly who was looking at her alarmed.

She began to shake, eyes filling with tears. She thought when she came here this would be over, that she could finally be free and not live her life looking over her shoulder. But she was wrong.

“He found me.”

**********

“Hal? It’s me open the door.” Matt said knocking. He hadn’t heard from her all day, and was starting to get worried when Carly told him she was sick, but was them confused when she texted him and told him to come over. He heard her shuffle around on the other side of the door before she eased it open, big eyes peering at him through the crack.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, come in. Hurry up.”

She yanked him inside and clicked the lock as she shut the door. He frowned at her.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine why?” She breezed past him to pick up her buzzing phone on the counter. As she read the message the color in her face drained.

“Something wrong?”

Hallie stuffed her phone in her pocket and shook her head not meeting his eye.

“No why?”

He shrugged “ you just got super weird when your phone went off that’s all.”

“No I didn’t.”

“You did but it’s none of my business.”

“Your right. It’s not.”

“Maybe I should just go.”

“No!” She grabbed his arm holding him in place “I-I mean sorry. I just had a long day is all. Stay please?” She looked uncomfortable asking him, but there was another emotion he couldn’t identify. Whatever it was, it was convincing.

“I got your mail by the way.” He said setting several white envelopes and a large Manila one down on the counter, and walking from the kitchen to the bathroom. He needed a shower, and went to rummage through the collection of clothing he had accumulated. He had hoped by pulling his shirt off and walking back past the kitchen he could entice Hallie to come shower with him but he found her standing with her back to him, looking at an article of mail in her hand. He could see her trembling from where he stood.

She had opened the large envelope first, noticing it had no return address, but felt bulky and heavy. She felt goosebumps bloom across her skin as a stack of photos slid out and she looked through them. There were dozens, her walking to work, out with friends, her and Matthew. Each photo got progressively closer and some had foul crude writing on them. Mattys face was crossed out on several of them and a few were ripped in half.

“Hallie?”

Matt was standing in the middle of the room, shirtless looking at her, concerned. She thought for a minute about hiding them but she knew that there would be no point. She held the photos out to him and he took them, frowning. His eyebrows furrowed as he shuffled through them.

“What-what is this?” He looked mad now, eyes burning. His knuckles were white as he gripped them ”Who took these?”

She took a deep breath “ His name is Ryan. I dated him for a few months before I moved here, to get away from him. He started stalking me, saying we were meant to be and he couldn’t live without me. I thought I got away from him but he found me. He left roses on my car this morning. And he texted me just now.”

“How long has this been going on?”

She looked down “A few days. That’s where the flowers came from the other day. And I got a weird phone call at my office last week. -“

“A few days? And your just telling me this now?”

“I’m sorry. I thought he would just go away. I was wrong.”

Yeah I’d say you were. We need to go to the police.”

“I already have. They can’t do anything about it. Besides he’s just trying to scare me.”

“ And what happens when that’s not enough for him anymore? What happens then? If you think this creep is going to be content to watch you forever, your wrong. He’s going to hurt you.”

“I know I’m-I’m sorry.”

“That’s it. I’m moving in here.”

“What?! No!”

“It’s not up for discussion. Till this guy goes away I’m staying here.”

She wanted to be annoyed, but in all honesty she was relieved. She felt safe with him in the apartment, and it felt good to get this off her chest.

“And what are we going to tell our friends?”

“Would it be so bad if they just knew about us? I mean really Hal. Your starting to make me feel like I’m just a good lay and that’s the only reason you keep me around.”

She looked hurt for a minute and her expression softened “Matty. I’m sorry.” She put a hand on his arm and rugged him closer “I never meant to make you feel that way. I’m just scared okay. Of this, of Ryan of everything. We will talk about this, but give me some time.”

He pursed his lips for a minute before he nodded.

“Okay. That’s fair.”

She squeezed his arm before wrapping her own around him, her head resting on his chest near his heart. He was so big and safe, any worry she had about Ryan out the window, as she stood listen to his heart beating through his shirt.

She had lived by herself for so long it was weird having a roommate. Especially one who walked around mostly shirtless and slept in her bed. She learned a lot about him in the following days. She learned how incredibly sweet he was, and how much he loved his mom and his sister. She learned he slept on the left side of the bed, that he never had a dog growing up, and that he was not the pest that everyone saw on the ice. She learned that he loved to dance, and they had spent much time slow dancing in her kitchen, and that he could talk about everything and anything late at night. His voice, which had annoyed the hell out of her just a few months ago, now soothed her every time she heard it. She liked seeing him smile at her across the table, or next to her while they brushed teeth, and his presence had become a comfort that she never knew she needed. She had fallen hard for Matthew Tkachuk, just like she knew she would.

One particular rainy Sunday morning she had woken up to his big rough hands barely brushing the bare skin of her back. She rolled over eyes still closed, lips immediately finding his in the dim light of her bedroom. He kissed her deeply, lips moving slowly, tongue pushing inside her mouth. There was already minimal clothing on, so it didn’t take long before he was pushing inside her. She let out a breath, eyes closing slowly. Each time was more enthralling than the last time. He moved slowly, lazily hot breath on her neck. She reached up, running her fingers through his hair. She could her the dull pounding of rain hitting her window, the thick grey clouds making the room dim. But she could see those eyes burning into her own, as he moved above her, curls falling into his eyes. He leaned down and kissed her heavily, as his pushes became faster until he let out a ragged breath as she tensed around him, her own high coming with his.

“Can we stay in bed all day and do that again?”

Before she could answer she heard her front door open and then close. Panic rose in her throat as Matt jumped off the bed, yanking a pair of gym shorts on and banged the bedroom door open. He couldn’t believe this creep was bold enough to come into her apartment in broad daylight, but he was going to kill him before he got the chance to ever do it again.

“Matty wait!” She whispered pulling a T-shirt over her head as she hurried out behind him. To her horror it was not Ryan in her kitchen, but Noah and Carly standing there with wide eyes and open mouths.

“What the hell?” Noah said, eyebrows raised so far up his forehead they were in danger of disappearing into his hairline.

Hallies face had bypassed Red and turned Maroon as she shrank down behind him under Carly’s glare.

“Are you two serious right now?” She asked hands on her hips, looking between them.

“How long has this been going on?” Noah asked. He too was frowning, arms crossed. He knew something was up, and they had become even more suspicious when Hallie started being magically busy the past few weeks, coupled with Matthew being notably absent and coming and going at all hours. They had never though thought in a million years they would find them shacked up together in Hallies apartment.

Matthew took a deep breath and turned to look at her before looking back at their friends “Since that weekend at the lake.”

Carly sucked in a loud breath, eyes huge. She sputtered for a few moments, words completely escaping her.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked after a few moments. She looked hurt. Hallie had wanted to tell her so bad, but she didn’t want to say it out loud. She was so scared that she had even let him in, but now to tell everyone else? That was terrifying.

“Let’s talk about this another time yeah?” Noah said, giving Carly’s arm a gentle squeeze.

“No.” Matt said “Let’s talk about it now. We didn’t tell you guys because we didn’t really know what to say. I honestly still don’t know what this is.”

“But there’s something else too.” Hallie reached behind her to pick up the envelope full of photos and handed them to Carly. She looked alarmed as she pulled them out, face turning white.

“Hallie.” She whispered.

“What the fuck?” Noah said, grabbing a few photos from Carly’s hand, and looking at both of them clearly confused.

“Sit down.” Matt said, patting the counter and walking to the fridge to pull out the liquor “We’ll tell you everything.”

And they did. They started with the lake house and went from there. Hallie and Carly walked Noah and Matt through the details on what had happened with Ryan and how they had come to Calgary to get away from him. Noah was so angry about the stalking, and the fact that she had kept it from them, he gave her a very stern talking to.

“This creep could have hurt you. Both of you.” He said glaring at Carly as well “We can’t keep you safe if we don’t know what we’re trying to keep you safe from.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Carly said giving his hand a squeeze.

“Now that we’re all in the loop I think we can agree that you two can’t go places alone for right now.” Matt said rubbing his chin “It’s just the way it is. Until this guy goes away or does something to get arrested for it has to be this way. When we have away games you two have some kind of sleepover or something. Have Jay come too.”

Carly giggled “I don’t really see Jay taking down an intruder, but safety in numbers right.” They laughed and the mood seemed to change. They decided to order takeout, and Hallie realized how much better she felt not keeping secrets. To finally have her and Matt out there in the open felt good, and natural.

After Noah and Carly left, it was just them in her apartment. He was smiling at her, a smile she hadn’t seen before. He walked very slowly towards her, eyes burning into her own.

“Thank you.” He said coming to a stop in front of her, hands resting on her shoulders.

“For?”

“For telling our friends. I know it wasn’t easy, and I know you didn’t want to, and I know your not my girlfriend or anything but thank you.”

“You haven’t actually asked me to be your girlfriend.”

He shrugged “I’m not really in the market for a relationship right now so.”

She gaped at him till he burst out laughing and swept her up, carrying her down the hallway towards her bedroom.

“Come on. Let’s go do boyfriend girlfriend stuff.”

********

As news of their new relationship spread, Matthews performance on the ice skyrocketed. He was having a great season, exploding on the ice and making headlines every game. He was still a pest, and that would probably never change, but he found himself playing with a confidence he didn’t know he had.

Plus it was an added bonus to look up and see Hallie sitting in the stands, looking so damn good with his name across her back. She was a steady constant in his life, and he found that having a real relationship was better than any hookup.

After one particularly physical game, Hallie waited nervously in the hallways outside the dressing room. Noah exited followed by Johnny and came over dropping a kiss on Carly’s cheek and turning to Hallie with a smile. Johnny gave her a gentle bump on the shoulder and grinned when he saw her expression.

“He’ll be out in a second.”

She peeked our from behind Him, as the door banged open and Matt came through the doors of the locker room, wet curls falling around his face with a casual elegance, cheeks pink, tie loosened around his neck. His eyes searched around the room till they landed on her and he smiled.

That damn smile.

He accepted a few pats on the back from his teammates as he made his way over to her, and stopped a few feet in front of her. She looked him over not noticing any injuries or blood and he held his arms out wide.

“ I’m fine Hallie. “

She breathed an audible sigh of relief and fell gratefully into his arms. He was so big and warm and she closed her eyes and breathed him in.

Watching Him fight had been a confusing expression to say the least. She had seen videos of it on YouTube but watching it happen live was completely different than through the tv screen. It was horrible because he was her boyfriend and she didn’t want him to get hurt, but it was enthralling to watch him throw his 6”2 frame around with such confidence on the ice. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to kiss him or smack him and the whole experience had left her emotionally drained.

They made idle chatter as they made their way out of the SaddleDome and into the parking garage, making plans to get together with some other guys from the team the following evening.

Once they were buckled in the car he turned to find her already staring at him.

“What?”

Her eyes were squinted and her head was turned to the side and like a flash of lightning she had hopped from the passenger seat to the back. He wasted no time following her, as they hurriedly pulled at whatever clothing was necessary to come off. She tugged the zipper of his suit pants down, and hiked up her skirt. She was dressed for work, having come to the game right from there with no time to change. She motioned for him to sit but he shook his head and leaned her back against the backseat, coming in between her legs. She settled in, opening her legs. His eyes bugged as he watched her pull the skirt up to reveal she wasn’t wearing stocking, but black thigh highs, and no underwear.

“Hal.” He breathed as she pulled his suit pants down enough and guided him towards her entrance. Her eyes closed and she arched back against the seat at the sensation of him pushing inside of her. He pushed again, adrenaline pumping through him as he quickened his pace, pushing deeper with each thrust.

“Matty.” She breathed, pulling his face to hers so she could kiss him. She fisted his dress shirt in her hands, as she pushed her tongue inside his mouth kissing him sloppily. Her legs began to ache as his pushed became erratic, and she came, him following shortly after. They say breathing heavily for a few minutes before he pulled out of her and sat next to her, situating his suit pants and turning to her. She smiled tiredly at him, eyes closing as he ran his fingers through her hair.

“Take me home.”

********

Hallie felt a twinge of annoyance at the way the girl was so obviously flirting with him and he was doing nothing to stop her. After a long night and a lot of sex, Hallie was overly tired and hadn’t really been in the mood to go out at all. She only had because she promised Carly she would. Matthew had gone to the bar to get a drink and was immediately approached By some bimbo in a short skirt, and that was all it took to bring Hallies mood down even more than it already was.

“Relax Hal.” Carly warned. She could feel an angry heat creep up her neck as she watched him smile at the girl, way to friendly for a guy who had a ‘girlfriend.” She angrily slugged the rest of her drink before setting it down loudly on the table.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” She said stand up and storming towards the ladies room sign, glaring at the back of the girls head who was flirting with her boyfriend.

She burst through the door, startling several girls who were fixing their makeup and blinked away angry tears while she went pee. Who did he think he was? They finally tell their friends the truth and here he was laughing and smiling with some random girl in the bar.

When she exited the bathroom she felt a hand on her arm. She turned ready to chew Matt out, when she realized the hand wasn’t his. She froze. It felt like someone was pouring maple syrup over head, and it was trickling down her body suffocating her as she came face to face with Ryan.

“Hi Hallie. I’ve missed you.”

“Get away from me Ryan.”

“I’m sorry about the photos, it was the only way I knew to get a hold of you after you blocked my phone number.”

“And what about the flowers on my car? How did you find my apartment?”

“I just know that you really love pink roses.”

“How did you find my house?”

He took a step forward and backed her further into the corner. Carly had noticed the exchange from across the bar and stood suddenly knocking her stool back and startling Noah. Matt turned from the conversation he was having to look at her as she jumped over the stool.

“That’s Ryan.”

As Hallie tried to maneuver around Ryan he grabbed her arm.

“Hallie please talk to me.” As she tried to pull away there was a commotion and Ryan’s face went white, a look of terror flashing across it. She turned just in time for a fist to come flying over her shoulder and connect solidly with Ryan’s face.

“Matty no!” She tried to grab on to the back of his T-shirt as he surged forward, punching Ryan again. He was so much bigger than her and she struggled nearly falling forward, until Noah appeared and grabbed Matt around the middle hauling him backwards. Johnny was standing looking at the scene with his mouth open and Carly was attempting to help Noah pull Matt towards towards the entrance. Hallie bit back tears and gave Ryan once last glance before she followed her friends out of the bar.

She burst through the door of her apartment not checking to see if he was behind her or not. She was so angry at him for what he had done she didn’t even want to look at him.

“Look I’m sorry okay?” He said leaning against the doorframe. The cut above his eyebrow had stopped bleeding and he was flexing his fingers, bruises beginning to bloom across his knuckles. “I just. When I saw that guy grab you like that, I don’t know. I just reacted” He looked at his hand and sighed “ it’s cuz I fucking love you okay?”

“You have to stop punching first and asking questions later. You almost punched me in the face!”

“I would never punch you in face Hal-“

“Your fist was two inches from hitting me.”

He looked at his feet embarrassed before she continued.

“And don’t think I didn’t see you flirting with that girl either!”

“What? What girl?”

“The bimbo at the bar who’s chest you couldn’t stop staring at! Thanks for making a complete idiot out of me in front of everyone!”

“This is never gonna change is it? Your never going to trust me.”

“Give me one good reason why I should?! You fill my head with air about wanting to have relationship with me then you flirt with some girl at the bar!”

They were standing ten feet apart, red faced and screaming at each other.

“I don’t need this.” He snapped grabbing his he let and leaving the room. She followed him.

“No you don’t need this and you clearly don’t need me either. Get out!”

“I am. And I won’t be coming back either.” He slammed the door behind him as she stood there, fists balled up at her sides. She listened to him walk angrily down the hallway until his footsteps could no longer be heard.

[anfie-in-the-box]

Dreamtale_Not_Found

Notes

Remember this thing I wrote out of the blue for Aftermare Week by @bluepalleteuniverse? Well, now the story truly begins!

Warnings: depression; a bit of manipulation, guilt-tripping, and an overall mean attitude of a random villager towards both Nightmare and Dream; not a panic attack, exactly, but definitely something similar.

Do tell me if there's anything I missed!

。。。

A negligible shift

Nightmare is done. He needs a change. Something. Anything. Please.

He sits between the roots of the Tree, hugging himself with both hands, chin on the knees. The position gets awkward, uncomfortable, but he doesn't have it in himself to move. He's drained.

He's fearful, uneasy with the deepest pain that never ends, but he's also empty. That's how it feels, at least. It's a void that nothing can fill, not even anxiety and doubts that have Nightmare in their cruel cold claws. The way misery blooms in the emptiness of his being is so alluring though, so mesmerising. Nightmare lets himself drown in the feeling. Nightmare never fights it, like he never fought the villagers, neither verbally nor physically. He's weak, isn't he?

But he isn’t evil. He's not. Can't be.

Right?

These thoughts break him more than any of the villagers ever could. Nightmare doesn’t know who he is anymore, and that makes it so much more frightening. He can't bear it. He's not brave, and he's not strong.

His hands are trembling. His whole body is trembling, Nightmare notices belatedly. His vision is blurred, too; he's crying again. He can't help it, useless even against his own tears.

Nightmare hugs himself tighter, so tight it almost hurts.

Can it be that the villagers are right? Were right all along?

No, no, no. Please, no. He doesn't want to be evil. He doesn't want to be a freak. It's supposed to count, right? He tries, he really does. It must count.

If only Nightmare could find a way to prove himself. Abruptly, he stops hugging himself, both hands limp by his sides. Does he even deserve this poor attempt of comfort? Is he really what the villagers say, a useless, stupid, good for nothing villain?

No!

The tears keep flowing down his cheekbones. He doesn't hiccup, doesn't sob, doesn't tremble anymore.

He's drained. Done.

He really, really needs to change something. Or something to change — and wouldn't that be perfect?

Too good to be true.

His fingers touch the grass beneath him, and the trunk of the Tree is solid as ever, always there to rely on.

Nightmare tilts his head back. Just then, he sees the apples. Black, but also some golden.

Maybe... Just maybe, but...

He'd need to stay alone for that though. Dream consistently declines any help requests from the villagers, seemingly determined to never leave, but he’s just too kind, there’s bound to be someone he can’t say no to. It’s a matter of time. And waiting is fine by Nightmare, now that he has a plan. He’s not wasting his time anymore; instead, he’s being patient, ready to take the first chance he gets. It’s a smart move. Besides, the reward will be worth it.

Tired, Nightmare wipes the tears with his sleeve and makes himself as comfortable as possible, resting beside the Tree’s rough trunk. If he’s lucky, he’ll even drowse and nap a little.

。。。

Ironically, an opportunity comes up later that day.

Nightmare doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he must have at some point since some noise wakes him up. When his head gets clearer, Nightmare realises it’s two voices, one his brother’s and the other only distantly familiar. A villager, then.

“Please, don’t talk so loudly,” Dream pleads in a small voice. “Nightmare is sleeping.”

How Dream always manages to be so caring and gentle is beyond Nightmare’s understanding. His little brother doesn’t deserve all that. Luckily, Nightmare knows what to do. Currently, he just has to keep listening intently, and it’ll be better if they think he’s still asleep. So no movement or sound. Nightmare’s good at that, he likes to think.

“Of course that useless garbage is sleeping in the middle of the day. But who cares!” the villager says, clearly irritated. They do lower their voice, though, if only to please Dream a little. “We need your help, and you can’t sit this one out!”

Dream sounds tired and somewhat hurt when he replies, “I’m so sorry if my brother upset you, but please, don’t talk about him that way.” Only when the villager mutters a “Yeah, whatever” that Nightmare barely hears from his position on the other side of the Tree, Dream continues. “Can you tell me what’s so important you think I need to leave the Tree?”

“Took you long enough to ask! Some guardian you are!” the villager huffs. “Just so you know, Ava is so sick she’s dying, it’s getting worse, and we’ve tried everything, but nothing helps! There’s no cure but the golden apples. It’s our last hope.” They insist, not giving Dream a moment to hesitate, “Come on! Do you really want us to lose Ava just because you decided to be stubborn?”

Nightmare tenses. He knows exactly how much of a bleeding heart his brother is. No chance he’s turning this one down; not when it’s a matter of life and death. He’s coming to the aid if only this one time. Meanwhile, Nightmare can set his plan in motion — prove himself worthy and good. Everything’s going to be fine. Everything’s going to get better. Finally.

Despite himself, Nightmare smiles. However, he keeps his sockets shut, just in case Dream decides to check on him before going to the village. He will go, without a doubt.

And indeed, Dream gasps, terrified, “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry to hear it! Of course, I’ll help poor Ava!” Then, there are steps and rustling, quiet huffs, and at last, this specific sound of a fruit being picked from the Tree. Nightmare knows that sound, although he’s never done it himself. Nobody asked for a black apple, after all. Nobody wanted it.

Nobody wanted him.

But now, that’s alright. He’ll just show everyone that he can take care of the golden apples, too. Everyone loves them, and they will love him as well. It’s so easy, Nightmare just cannot fathom how he hadn’t come up with it before.

For a few seconds, there’s a pause.

“What are you waiting for? You got the apple, now let’s go!” the villager hurries. Suddenly, the steps sound much closer to Nightmare, and he’s been ready for that, it’s exactly the reason why he never opened his eyes, then why does he jerk?

Luckily, it doesn’t give his act away. Dream sighs and whispers, ever so softly, “I’ll be right back, brother. Sleep tight.” He goes away and says a bit louder, worry evident in his voice, “Let’s go. I really hope we’ll arrive in time...”

If the villager replies, Nightmare doesn’t hear it. He counts to a hundred five times, just to be sure, and gets up only after that.

This is his chance to make the tables turn.

。。。

For a minute, he simply stands there, looking at the Tree, his chest heavy with anticipation. His gaze is fixed on a single golden apple, the nearest to him. The one he’s going to pick and keep from harm all by himself.

While Nightmare stares at the apple, a strange feeling arises in his entire being. It’s light and unobtrusive, but also comprehensive. He’d try to identify it if he had more time, he thinks. As it is, he can’t quite put a finger on it right away and so just lets it be.

It’s getting late, Nightmare notices. The sky darkens steadily, the sun already gone. Pinks and purples linger on the horizon, and for the first time in a while, Nightmare finds himself appreciating the view. It’s been so long since he last enjoyed... anything, really. Everything except for misery and pain has become dull, faded. Being able to drink in the sight now, suddenly thrilled by that fleeting moment between day and night, relishing in the cool breeze...

Nightmare forces himself to look away. He has a plan to execute, and Dream might come back any minute. His brother is nice, but... he doesn’t understand. He wouldn’t even if Nightmare explained. So he has to do this alone.

Not like it’s the first time anyway.

Deepest sadness and utter hopelessness creep back into Nightmare’s mind and heart, but before they take hold of him, little guardian decisively comes closer to the Tree and reaches for a golden apple, the one he’d chosen before.

A moment stretches to what seems a tiny eternity. That’s what it feels like to Nightmare, who freezes, terrified. His hand trembles. The apple is so close, one slight movement and he’ll have it, feel its surface. Is it warm or cool? Nightmare wonders, distantly. Is it soft or hard?

After a long, long pause — one that lasts barely a minute, Nightmare’s mind knows, but his heart doesn’t believe it, — his hand withdraws. He holds it with his other hand against his chest, aching all of a sudden.

What’s wrong with him? Why can’t he do this? He’s a guardian just like Dream, who’s done this plenty of times! It’s so simple! It should be simple.

But his body refuses to cooperate. He’s shuddering, so anxious and afraid it’s suffocating. No wonder his chest hurts.

Tears prick the corners of Nightmare’s sockets.

Come on! Why can’t he move? Just why?

It’s not fair. This might be his only chance. Dream made an exception today, sure, but it’s not every day someone is on the verge of dying. He’s going to come back, and stay beside the Tree like a good guardian he is, and nothing’s going to change.

Filled with despair and fear, Nightmare tries one last time, putting all effort he can into stretching out his hand.

It doesn’t work. His body doesn’t work, not properly, anyway.

What’s even happening?

Just then, Nightmare hears familiar footsteps from behind. The sound makes something in him snap. The pain in his chest, the tension in his body, the feelings in his heart, and the thoughts in his mind — everything dissipates, leaving him tired and empty.

And — oh.

Nightmare sees now. That light feeling was hope. And it’s gone.

“Nightmare!” Dream calls out, not quite close yet but already explaining himself. “Sorry I left when you were sleeping, I hope you weren’t too worried when you woke up all alone... I didn’t mean to take so long or to take any time at all, but it was urgent and you don’t sleep much, so I...”

Utterly exhausted, Nightmare shrugs his brother off with a quiet “It’s fine” and, when Dream abruptly stops talking, goes away to the other side of the Tree.

Leave it up to him to not do a single thing right.

Of course, it’s all in vain. Pointless and futile.

He’ll just sleep.

。。。

Only that night, Nightmare tosses and turns restlessly.

As energy beings, they don’t exactly need sleep, so for Nightmare, it’s more of a way to escape than anything. Being awake means thinking and feeling, while sleep, although it seems to last just for a moment without dreams Nightmare’s only read about, gifts him a blessing of unconsciousness. When he sleeps, it’s almost like time and space cease to exist.

Almost like he ceases to exist.

It’s sweet and alluring. It’s also terrifying.

But none of this matters anymore, because, after that incident, even light sleep just won’t come. It’s called insomnia, Nightmare thinks.

Something did change after all. For the worse, that is.

It really could have been funny, but after a week of long, long days and nights Nightmare’s forced to spend wallowing in his misery, he can’t find it in himself to laugh.

Tired.

He’s so very tired.

。。。

Credits:

Undertale © Toby Fox

Dreamtale © jokublog

Read English version on ao3

Read Russian version on ficbook or fanficus (to be added)

。。。

Notes

This story is canon compliant, which means Nightmare is six years old at the moment of the (absence of the) Apple incident. But because he never got corrupted, he has a chance to grow up, and that he will do. His meeting with Geno will happen years later, when Nightmare is an adult.

It will become obvious as the story progresses, but I felt the need to clarify right now. Maybe I'll remove this part of the notes later.

Also, since we don't know about Dreamtale as much as I'd like, I'm trying to fill in the gaps. All places and characters mentioned are my version of Dreamtale, except for Dream, Nightmare, Nim/the Tree of Feelings, and Neil. That makes Ava just a random name to make the dialogue feel personal.

Feel free to let me know what you think if you'd like!

。。。

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[sisterspooky1013]

Anything Your Heart Desires

Author: SisterSpooky1013

Rating: General

Words: 1903

Tagging @today-in-fic

Read it on AO3 here

It was just the two of them in the lab, reviewing crime scene photos while they waited for the tech to return with the DNA sequencing results. He’d warned them that it would take a while, but they were at a standstill until they could say for sure whether the perpetrator and the victim were related, as was Mulder’s suspicion.

“Do you see here, the way the edge of this blood stain looks on her neck?” Scully asked him, holding up a color photo of a woman splayed on a carpeted floor with multiple puncture wounds to her torso, eyes open and vacant. “The line is smudgy and frayed, which is not how it would appear if it were splatter or had even pooled there. It looks to me like it was wiped with a towel or rag.”

“Did you notice anything similar with any of the other victims?” Mulder asked, spreading out photos of 6 other dead women, each with blood soaked bodies but clean faces.

“Yes, on two” she returned, picking up two and setting them aside. “Although on these three, the line is clean but not spatter” she continued, putting three others in a different pile. “I would almost suspect that something was covering their head and face during the attack, like a bag.”

“But cause of death wasn’t asphyxia for any of the victims, was it?” He turned his body towards her, leaning his hip against the countertop.

“No, it wasn’t. So whatever it was, if indeed something was put over their heads, it was porous, like maybe a pillowcase.” Looking down at the counter, she blinked her left eye quickly, trying to clear something that was irritating her cornea.

“That would suggest that the perpetrator didn’t want to see their faces while he assaulted them. Though that doesn’t explain those that were wiped clean. Maybe he just didn’t want their faces disturbed.”

Scully was now holding her eye closed in an attempt to let it water its way through whatever was bothering it. She kept her head down, shuffling the photos around. “If your theory that the perpetrator was all of their biological fathers turns out to be correct, that he was the sperm donor their parents used, then it would stand to reason that he didn’t want to harm the part of them that looked like him.”

“That very well could be” he answered, studying the side of her face. “You okay, Scully?”

“Yeah, I just have something in my eye, it’s fine.”

“You want me to take a look?” He dipped his head down in an attempt to see her face, which she ducked further from his view.

“No, Mulder, it’ll wash itself out, that’s what eyes were designed to do.”

He put his finger under her chin and tilted her head up so he could see her face. Her left eye was clamped shut, tears pouring from both corners as mascara ran down her cheek. He raised his eyebrows and have her a chastising look. “Hop up here, Scully” he said, patting the counter.

“Mulder, it’s fine, leave it alone” she replied, leaning against the counter rather than sitting on it, arms crossed. Her stance was meant to look confident and relaxed, but with one leaky eye closed tight she looked more like Popeye than anything else.

He stood in front of her, hands stuffed in his pockets, and tried to continue their conversation. “So what’s your theory on motive, Scully? Guy jerks it into a cup once a month for three years then one day just decides to go kill all his offspring?”

Her eye stung like a bitch, whatever the foreign object was seeming to have sharp edges. Bringing one finger up to press at her bottom lid, she attempted to respond. “Maybe, I don’t know, maybe something happened in his life that suddenly made the idea of having children out there that he didn’t raise upsetting-shit.” She felt like she needed to blink, but blinking hurt. Not blinking also hurt.

“Jesus, Scully, will you just let me look at it?” he stepped toward her, putting his hands on her hips and lifting her up on to the counter. She made a little surprised squeak and he couldn’t help but smile.

He moved close, occupying the space between her thighs as she titled her face up to him, her eye blinking wildly as it tried to find relief. Mulder put one hand on her cheek and the other on her forehead, using his thumbs above and below her eye to open it while she reflexively tried to pull it shut. She could smell his aftershave and the salty earthen hint of sunflower seeds on his breath.

“hold still” he admonished her.

“Sorry, I’m trying. It’s not completely voluntary” she responded, her hands moving to rest on his biceps.

“Ah-ha!” He declared, dipping his middle finger behind her lower eyelid. When he removed it, she blinked rapidly several times and sighed with relief that the offending material was gone.

“Oh my god, thank you” she breathed out. “What was it?”

Her hands were still on his biceps. One of his hands was now resting on the top of her thigh, the other was held palm up in front of her face where she could see a single eyelash resting on his middle finger. He stayed like that, holding it in front of her, for an abnormally long time. Long enough that the moment started to feel charged, the weight of his hand on her thigh warming her skin as her newly functioning eyes ventured beyond the eyelash to settle on his mouth. Oh that mouth. That plush bottom lip that she had dreamed of pulling between her teeth for so long. How might it feel if he were to brush those lips along her neck? Now he was smirking, which she found insanely sexy. His coy little smiles always set off a flutter in her belly. Wait-why was he smirking? Her eyes snapped up to meet his and she saw that he was looking at her expectantly, amused and confused by her staring. She returned an even more confused look, which probably paired nicely with the embarrassed flush that a was rising from her chest to her neck.

“You’re supposed to make a wish” he said tenderly, gathering that she had no idea what he was waiting for.

“What?” She questioned, pulling her hands from him and setting them in her lap. He kept his hand stationed on her thigh.

“When you lose an eyelash, you’re supposed to make a wish and blow it away. Didn’t you ever do that as a kid?”

She shook her head. “Shooting stars and 11:11 I got the memo on, but I guess I missed eyelashes.”

“Well, this can be your inaugural eyelash wish, then” he returned, holding it up again in front of her.

She looked at his face, his green irises shining with the joy of sharing something new with her, his mouth stretched into a warm smile. She loved this side of him that relished in the simple, unimportant minutia of life with the same excitement as he had for the latest EBE sighting. Thinking about what she wanted more than anything in this moment, she held eye contact with him while she pursed her lips into an “o” and blew the eyelash off his finger with a forceful puff of air.

Freed of the eyelash, he dropped his hand to rest on her other thigh, but didn’t move from his location between her legs. The smile faded from his lips and was replaced with something different, something desirous. She felt her pulse quicken as he lifted his hand and brought it to the side of her face, his thumb brushing across her cheekbone.

“You have mascara all over your cheek” he said, his voice low and syrupy, and she huffed a little laugh, averting her eyes from his.

He lifted his other hand off of her thigh to mirror its partner, her face now cradled between his palms. When she brought her gaze back to him, she sucked in her breath at the intensity in his expression, the tilt of his torso ever closer to hers, and while she was an expert at denial when it came to the possibility of Mulder returning her feelings, it was very clear that he was moving to kiss her. She leaned into his palms gently, a barely perceptible green light, and he closed the distance between them, pressing his pouty mouth against hers on the cool steel of the lab room counter. She brought her hands to rest on his chest, not to push him away but to grip gently at the lapels of his suit coat, encouraging him as he slipped his tongue between her lips. He grazed her teeth before she brought her own tongue forward to meet him, warm and smooth and salty.

“Hot off the presses, agents!” The lab tech’s voice followed only milliseconds after they heard the click of the door latch warn them that he was entering the room. Thankfully, he pushed the door open with his back, which gave just enough time for Scully to shove Mulder away and hop onto the floor before he turned to face them, waving two sheets of paper in his hand.

Forty five minutes later they were walking out into the afternoon sun, which was already fading into the horizon at this time of year.

“I think our best bet will be to put a police detail on each of the other 9 women we’ve identified as having been conceived by the same donor” Mulder was saying, continuing their conversation after the DNA test confirmed that the perpetrator was all the victims’ biological father. “7 of them are local, but the other two are in the Midwest and West Coast. Seems unlikely he’d go that far outside the target area but just in case I still want to make sure they’re protected.”

“Sounds like a good plan” she replied, climbing into the passenger seat of his car and flipping down the visor to survey the damage to her makeup after her eye incident. She did, in fact, have little mascara crumbles all over her cheek and under her eye, though they were now dried out enough that she easily brushed them away.

Mulder fastened his seat belt and started the ignition before turning slightly to face her. “So, what did you wish for?” He asked.

She gave him a coy smile. “I can’t tell you or it won’t come true. Everyone knows that, Mulder.”

“No, those are only the rules for shooting stars, birthday candles and 11:11 wishes. Eyelash wishes have no such restrictions.” His grin was contagious.

She shook her head ruefully. “Nice try, but no.”

He bobbed his head in defeat and pulled the car out of the parking lot. Scully drew air into her lungs slowly, letting it out in a long sigh as she looked out the window. As a scientist, she didn’t put any stock in the power of wishes, nor did she believe that revealing a wish could prevent it from coming true. Even so, she couldn’t deny the fact that when she blew her eyelash off Mulder’s finger tip and wished for what she wanted most in the world, her wish had immediately come true.

[eliemo]

The Incident- Part 1

Summary: Sometimes, it’s dangerously easy to spiral. 

TWs: Panic attacks, mentions of past abuse, some blood

Part Two

Masterpost

“Virgil!”

He didn’t even know what he’d done to warrant so much fury and disgust in the scream. It was enough to block out all rational thought, ice cold panic and fear overwhelming despite its awful familiarity. 

He didn’t even get a chance to apologize before he was hit, the hand swinging forward and finding purchase against his cheek, striking hard enough to send him stumbling backwards, throbbing pain shooting through his skull. 

“God, you idiot! How are you this stupid?” 

Virgil tried to get away, confusion and terror crashing down until he couldn’t breathe, chest and throat too tight to get out any of the desperate pleas and apologies on his tongue. 

He couldn’t even make out who was talking, where exactly they were, how many people he’d made angry this time. 

There was a hand in his hair, grabbing, twisting and yanking him forward, ignoring his cries as it threw him into the cold, hard floor. 

“Please,” he choked out, his voice agonizingly small, too weak to hear. “Pl-please I'm sorry, I’m sorry--”

“Just shut up! This is why we have to keep doing this to you! Because you’re too stupid to understand how to do anything right!” 

There was another slap when he tried to raise his head, somehow worse than the first, and he felt something sharp dig into his arm, vision clearing just enough for him to make out the pile of glass shards he’d been shoved into. 

“All you do is hurt Thomas, and we have to do this to clean up your stupid mess! Imagine what the light sides would do if they learned just how useless you are!” 

The voice was furious, cold and mocking, each cruel word accompanied by another merciless strike, the pain quickly becoming unbearable, Virgil left to curl in on himself with the glass digging into his skin. 

And then, in a sudden twist of warped reality, the pain vanished and Virgil found himself curled up in the blankets of his own bed, trembling violently and drenched in sweat. 

But the ache from the beating still lingered, nothing more than fading phantom pain, but it made his heart twist with emotions he didn’t quite know how to identify. 

It had been a while since he’d had a nightmare that vivid, when the pain and panic bled into the real world, leaving him weak and terrified.

He’d worked up the courage to go to Logan about his recurring nightmares a couple of weeks ago, and the two of them had worked out several techniques to at least reduce the frequency of the dreams. 

It worked, to an extent, but it couldn’t get rid of them completely. He’d just gotten unlucky tonight. 

He shuddered, pushing himself up just enough to glance at the clock, collapsing back down with a groan. It was barely four in the morning- no one would be up for at least another three hours and there was no way he was waking someone up over a stupid dream. 

It wasn’t even anything particularly upsetting. Nothing he hadn’t handled before. Just a cruel reminder of a memory he’d lived through so many times before, vile words he’d heard too many times to count. 

It was fine. He just...he just needed to get a hold of himself, take a few deep breaths and stop crying. 

But it was no use. Not when he was alone, hunkered down in the dark, no prying eyes or pitying stares forcing him to hold back. 

The first sob broke from his chest, cruel, biting words still ringing in his ears, scream after scream always directed at him, always angry, and the dam broke. 

Virgil buried himself under his blanket and pressed his face into his pillow, hoping beyond hope it was enough to muffle the pathetic, wrenching sobs he couldn’t help to hold back. 

The last thing he needed was someone hearing him. He didn’t want them to see that after everything they’d done, all the “progress” they thought he was making, he was still just as broken as he was when they’d started. That a simple dream could revert him back to a trembling, terrified mess. 

It was stupid. He was safe now and he knew that. He hadn’t deserved it and he was...working on believing that. 

But it wasn’t going to happen again. That was what mattered. He had his family now- his family who had shown him over and over again that he had no reason to be afraid, so there was no reason his stupid brain should be getting this worked up over a bad dream. 

It wasn’t even a particularly bad memory in comparison. It was fairly routine for how things had been back then. 

He might have ended up crying himself back to sleep, or he may have simply zoned out without realizing, his head too fuzzy to know for sure. Either way, by the time sunlight began to filter through his window, Virgil was shaky and exhausted, the room tilting dangerously when he raised his head off the soaked pillow. 

He thought he heard distant voices from out in the hallway, but it was impossible to make anything out over the pounding of his own head. 

He needed coffee. And, if he was feeling brave enough, maybe a hug. 

Virgil forced himself out of bed, legs a bit unsteady as he landed on the carpet and shuffled to the bathroom, content with the idea of throwing icy water in his face and hastily putting on some eyeshadow to cover up the fact that he’d been crying. 

He must not have done a very good job, because as soon as he made his way into the kitchen, wrapped up in his hoodie to hide the fading tremors, Patton looked up from brewing the coffee with gentle concern. 

“Morning, kiddo,” he said, smiling past the worry. “How’d ya sleep?” 

“Fine, I guess.”

Patton frowned but didn’t push, instead stepping aside to allow Virgil access to the coffee pot, an easy, early morning silence filling the kitchen as the moral side began gathering things together for breakfast. 

Virgil found himself holding his breath as he got his mug out of the cabinet, silently pleading for his hands to stop shaking. He couldn’t handle dropping anything right now. He knew it would be ok if he did, knew Patton wouldn’t be angry, but…

“Imagine what the light sides would do if they learned just how useless you are!” 

He squeezed his eyes shut, setting his mug on the counter and willing himself to just calm down. 

They knew. They knew him, knew what had happened to him, and they...they loved him. For some unfathomable reason, they loved him. 

They wouldn’t hurt him. He didn’t have to worry. It was over, it was over, it was--

“Kiddo?” 

Virgil’s eyes flew open, Patton’s voice pulling him from his spiral, and he realized with a start that he had stopped breathing entirely. 

“Sorry,” he said automatically, and then immediately flinched back. He was supposed to stop doing that, they’d told him to stop apologizing and he could never seem to listen. “S-sorry, I just...I- do you think you could...I mean, you don’t have to but I was just--” 

“Virgil,” Patton cut him off, moving slowly as he rested a hand on Virgil’s arm. “What do you need?” 

It was stupid. It was beyond stupid especially considering this was Patton. He should just be able to ask, but he’d been extra needy lately and he wanted them to think he was doing better- and what if they thought he was being annoying-- 

Virgil took a breath, shutting down his own anxious thoughts. Nightmares made him extra paranoid. 

“Could I just...h-have a hug?” 

“Oh, honey.” Patton’s features instantly softened, worry morphing to a mixture of sadness and relief, and before Virgil could even blink he was being pulled into the familiar comfort of warm arms. “Of course, baby. You don’t have to be afraid to ask.” 

And Virgil was absolutely not going to start crying again. It was barely seven in the morning, he wasn’t going to do that to Patton, he put the moral side through too much as it was. 

But then Patton’s hand was cupping the back of his neck, idly running his fingers through Virgil’s hair, and there was absolutely no holding back the pathetic choking sound as he desperately tried to force back the sobs building up in his chest. 

“I’m here,” he said, Patton’s voice barely above a whisper. “I’m right here, honey. What’s going on?” 

“Nothing,” he muttered, quickly realizing that wouldn’t cut it. “Just...had a long night. It’s fine.” 

“Nightmare?” 

He thought about denying it, feeling ridiculously stupid and childish, but there really wasn’t a point. Patton wouldn’t ridicule him, and he’d already lost what little composure he had. 

But he didn’t entirely trust his own voice right now, not wanting to break down completely in the middle of the kitchen, so he just nodded against Patton’s shirt. 

The other side pulled away slightly, hands still gently clutching Virgil’s shoulders, and the anxious side warily met his warm gaze. 

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” Patton said, the furthest thing from judgmental or annoyed. “You wanna talk about it?” 

And he didn’t. At all. Because it wasn’t just a stupid dream- it was a memory. It had happened, many many times before, and talking about it would just make it more vivid in his mind. He just wanted to forget. 

“Nothing to talk about,” he mumbled instead. “Just...same old stupid stuff.”

“It’s not stupid,” Patton said, but mercifully didn’t push. “You look exhausted...how about we set you up on the couch with a blanket until breakfast?” 

Virgil nodded again, allowing Patton to carefully take his hand and guide him into the living room and onto the couch. A part of him wished he could have just stayed wrapped in the hug for the rest of the morning, but he knew it was a selfish request. Everyone had things to do today, Virgil included. 

Besides, the weight of the blanket around his shoulders was nice, and the quiet, mindless noise of the television created a welcome distraction from his thoughts. 

Logan came down the stairs just a few moments later, looking a bit more disheveled than usual, offering Virgil a quick and quiet greeting before disappearing into the kitchen, probably in search of coffee. 

Roman followed soon after, still dressed in his pajamas with his hair a mess. Virgil expected him to follow Logan straight into the kitchen like he did every morning, so it was a bit of a surprise when the Prince was suddenly standing in front of the couch. 

“Scoot over, J-Delightful.” 

Virgil blinked, momentarily frozen. “What?” 

“It’s early and I’m cold,” Roman complained. “So scoot over or I’m commandeering your lap.” 

Virgil decided not to mention that he really wouldn't mind the latter option, instead moving over just enough for Roman to fit, making sure there was enough room for both of them under the blanket. 

Apparently making room on the couch didn’t even matter, because in mere seconds Roman was completely sprawled out, somehow ending up with his head in Virgil’s lap and doing a very poor job of pretending to be asleep. 

Virgil didn’t know if he was still visibly distressed from his dream and obviously in need of physical contact, or if Roman just had impeccable timing. 

Either way, he didn’t exactly have any plans to move. 

The rest of the morning passed relatively peacefully. Logan had been up late working on scheduling and had woken with a headache, so the volume was kept low, the conversation quiet and lighthearted. 

It also, thankfully, kept a majority of the attention off of Virgil, although he was certain nothing could stop the worried glances Patton kept throwing his way. Worried glances that were entirely unnecessary. 

Yeah, he’d had a bad night and an unfortunately vivid dream. But that didn’t mean he needed to be watched over like he was about to break at any second. 

But no one put him on the spot, no one asked any questions, like they knew he could shatter under too much attention right now.

 It was just a stupid dream, already rapidly fading. He was safe. 

And then Roman dropped a glass on the floor. 

It didn’t even break, just cracked a bit along the side, but the sudden noise was enough to shock the room into sudden silence.  

Virgil jumped, guilt and fear instinctually curling up in his gut despite the fact that he hadn’t even done anything. And he knew- he knew that even if he had it wouldn’t be a problem. 

But then Logan was sighing, shoulders tense like he was angry, whirling around to face the Prince’s sheepish smile. 

“Dammit, Roman,” he snapped, unexpectedly curt. “Can’t you be more careful?” 

Roman blinked, momentarily frozen where he was bent over to pick up the fallen cup, for once clearly at a loss for a retort. 

“Language please,” Patton spoke up, and Virgil wanted to shrink away from the nervous glance he sent. “Let’s be a bit more gentle, ok? Roman didn’t mean to- there’s no reason to get angry over an accident. Right?” 

Logan seemed to notice his mistake before Patton even finished, straightening up and flashing Virgil an apologetic look before turning back to Princey. 

“I...apologize, Roman,” he said carefully. “Genuinely. I am not angry, I simply...am still nursing a bad headache and lost my temper for a moment.” 

Roman had already gotten over his shock it seemed, picking up the glass and fixing the crack with a wave of his hand, offering Logan an easy smile. 

“Don’t sweat it, Teach,” he said. “I should’ve been more careful. I think the dishes are balanced all weird.” 

“Well, we will...have to look into fixing that when we have time.” 

The easy silence was back, just for a moment as Roman filled the now intact cup with orange juice and made his way back to the kitchen table. 

“You don’t have to do that, Logan,” Virgil muttered, staring intently down at his eggs and toast. “You don’t...I’m fine.” 

“I know,” Logan said earnestly. “But whether or not you are in the room, Virgil, anger is not an appropriate reaction. You can be a...welcome reminder of that. So...thank you.” 

And Virgil had absolutely no idea what to say to that, but Patton was smiling and Roman looked relieved, so he managed a tiny nod and a timid smile of his own before turning back to his breakfast.  

It was a...surprisingly nice thought, he realized, and one he hadn’t really ever allowed himself to consider. That he could possibly be helping them even half as much as they helped him. 

He couldn’t really wrap his head around how being a pathetic mess all the time could possibly be of benefit to anyone, but...but Logan didn’t just say things for the hell of it. 

Things should have been fine after that. 

Virgil’s hands had thankfully stopped shaking by the time they cleared the table and washed the dishes, a hot shower helping clear the last of the fog from his mind. 

By mid afternoon Roman had disappeared into the imagination with colorful goodbyes and promises to return with stories for days, and Patton had teamed up with Virgil to convince Logan to let himself nap for at least a few hours. 

As much as Logan needed the rest, Virgil couldn’t help the tight, anxious feeling that curled around his chest when Patton was summoned to assist Thomas, likely to be gone for the next few hours at least. 

That left Virgil alone in a far too quiet mindscape, left to his own devices for a late lunch. He wasn’t particularly good at cooking, not to mention how stressed it made him when doing it on his own, but he didn’t want to risk the moral side’s disappointment at finding out he hadn’t bothered to eat again. 

(Patton had discovered Virgil’s habit of skipping meals fairly early on, looking strangely horrified when the anxious side explained he wasn’t used to have multiple meals a day, usually just sneaking snacks at convenient times)

But he was fairly sure he could manage putting together a sandwich without messing up too horribly. And maybe, if it turned out, he could leave something in the fridge for Logan in case the other side woke up before dinner. 

He should have been paying closer attention. That was his job, after all. He was anxiety, he needed to search for every possible threat, every way something could go wrong, every way to prevent everything from falling apart.

But he wasn’t even thinking, even after what had happened this morning, letting his tired mind wander as he opened the cabinet and reached for a glass. 

It should have been fine. He never would have been able to be near anything glass if his grip wasn’t steady, always plagued with too many paranoid thoughts. 

His fingers had just brushed the glass when there was a sudden thud from upstairs. Nothing out of the ordinary- probably just Roman returning from his realm or Logan waking up- but of course it made Virgil flinch and jump backwards, knocking over a second cup as he moved, both plummeting to the ground too fast for him to even try and react. 

The shelf was higher than the one Roman had reached for, and in the blink of an eye both cups had shattered, the deafening crash leaving behind a sea of glass shards littering the kitchen floor. 

For a horrifying moment, Virgil couldn’t move. Everything had gone cold, silent, his eyes glued to the scattered glass, briefly wondering if this was all just another cruel dream. 

 “You’re too stupid to understand how to do anything right!” 

The voice snapped him out of his daze, old memories and almost forgotten panic rushing back all at once, screams and threats and disgust being hurled mercilessly… 

It had been an accident. Just a stupid mistake. It was ok, right? They told him it would always be ok. They told him…

“How are you this stupid?” 

He flinched, digging his nails into his hands as he felt himself begin to tremble. He’d made so many mistakes. Too many. And he’d never actually broken anything before. 

He wasn’t Creativity, he couldn’t just snap his fingers and put it all back together. He’d made a mess. He’d ruined everything and someone was going to be mad, someone would end up...end up…

Virgil dropped to his knees, forcing his shaking hands to move, working to gather all the glass into a pile. He didn’t have time to find a broom. If he cleaned it up quickly, covered up his mistake well enough, then maybe they would never find out. He could get away with it. 

It was risky. He’d tried it before, and lying about mistakes always led to something worse. But he had to try. He couldn’t...he couldn’t go through any punishments right now. 

“God, you idiot!” 

There was so much glass. How had no one heard the crash? 

“You break everything you touch, don’t you see that?” 

He ruined it. He ruined it again. They were right, he couldn’t do anything correctly. He’d been safe, he’d been trying so hard to be good, and look what he’d done. 

“Useless!” 

“God, you’re pathetic, Virgil.” 

“All you do is hurt Thomas! Why shouldn’t we hurt you too?” 

The voices overpowered his own labored breathing, drowned out the rest of the world, memory after memory replaying over and over again, hatred and fear trying to choke him. 

But it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered. All he needed to do was clean up the glass, make sure it looked like he had never stepped foot anywhere near the kitchen, and then he would be safe. They wouldn’t have to hurt him. 

Virgil wasn’t even sure who he was afraid of at this point. 

It took longer than it should have since his hands were shaking so badly, but he didn’t stop, gathering up as much of the shards as he could into his hands and dumping them into the trash can, ignoring the way the glass cut his skin, slicing open his palms. 

He could worry about that later. He could barely feel the pain underneath his rising panic, and it would be nothing compared to what would happen if he was caught. 

He didn’t stop, fumbling blindly for the remaining shards, stopping only to wipe the floor with his sleeves when his blood started to drip onto the tiles. He refused to let himself cry, even as his vision blurred, knowing the noise would only attract attention. 

It was taking too long. He was too slow, and any second now someone would walk in and see what he’d done, what he was trying to hide. 

But then...then he couldn’t feel any more glass, just smooth, ice cold tile beneath now blood soaked fingers, and something close to relief wormed its way up to the surface, past the panic and the pain. 

The stinging in his hands had increased to a fiery agony at this point, the pain pulsing and stabbing like tiny knives, blood flowing down his arms and soaking into his hoodie, but it didn’t matter. His mess was gone. He could get away with this. 

Now if only he could stop shaking like a coward and find a place to lie low. 

Virgil covered his hands with his sleeves (the last thing he wanted was to get his blood everywhere) and used the counter to drag himself to unsteady feet. 

He couldn’t panic, couldn��t let it all set in. Not yet. Not until he was safe. 

There were sounds coming from the living room, and Virgil quickly stuffed his hands in his pockets, biting back a hiss of pain and quickly making his way out the door. 

Patton was in the living room fiddling with the tv remote, and Virgil suddenly realized he had no idea how long he’d spent cleaning up the kitchen. 

Had someone noticed he wasn’t around? Had anyone been close enough to hear? Did they suspect something? Did someone already know? 

“Hey, kiddo!” Patton greeted, cheery and welcoming as ever, but Virgil felt something freeze in his chest, ice cold fear wrapping around his heart and squeezing-- 

“H-hey, Pat.” He couldn’t panic. Not now. He couldn’t hurt Thomas, couldn’t let them see how weak he still was. He could hold out. 

“Logan’s feeling better, but he’s already gone back to work,” Patton continued, tossing the remote on the couch and sitting down. “I’m gonna start dinner in about an hour, that alright with you?” 

Virgil blinked, hearing the blood squelch beneath his fingers as he twisted his hands into fists, desperately trying to keep himself from shaking. 

He knew. Patton knew. There was no way he didn’t, no way he wasn’t already angry. He was just waiting to see if Virgil would lie so the punishment could be worse. 

He needed to get out, get away, get as far away as possible and hide until he wasn’t angry anymore-- 

“Actually I, uh, I’m not feeling great,” he forced himself to say, hoping it was believable. “I don’t think I’m...I’m gonna be hungry. I might just go lay down.” 

“Oh, sweetie I’m sorry.” He moved to stand, stopping when Virgil couldn’t hide how his shoulders tensed. “Do you...need anything?” 

Virgil was already moving towards the stairs, shaking his head, ignoring the strange look Patton was watching him with. The pain in his hands was growing unbearable and it was getting harder and harder to breathe, memories of pain and yelling he suddenly couldn’t convince himself wasn’t coming. 

“I’m good,” he said. “I-I’m fine, I’ll just be in my room.” 

And then he was gone, stumbling up the stairs before Patton could say anything else, breaths now coming in shallow, trembling gasps. 

His hoodie pockets were soaked by now, hands sticky and soaked and somehow still bleeding, but right now he needed to figure out where he could go to be out of everyone's way, stay hidden until the anger faded and his punishment lessened. 

Roman was apparently still gone and Logan’s door was closed, but Virgil could hear the faint sound of muffled music coming from inside the logical side’s room, carefully sneaking past without a sound. 

He made it to his own bedroom, pausing outside his door with a shaky hand hovering above the doorknob, blood still coating his fingers. 

What was he thinking? He’d had too many failed attempts at hiding in his room, yelling and banging outside his door, their fury overwhelming as he was grabbed and dragged away from his bed…

He backed away from the door, glancing back down the hall to make sure he hadn’t been seen, making his way to the closet at the end of the hall. 

“Did you really think you could hide?” 

Virgil pulled the door open, wincing at the audible creak, and ducked inside, squeezing his eyes shut as he locked himself in the near total darkness. 

“You’re such a little coward! God, you pathetic waste of space!” 

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe- they were choking him, screaming and grabbing for him, all of them furious--

But...they weren’t. They weren’t upset with him. Not yet, anyway. Logan, Roman, and Patton wouldn’t...even if they were angry it wouldn’t be anywhere near as bad as it used to be. 

Right? 

They’d hated him once before. They’d all lashed out, reprimanded him for doing something wrong. But they said they wouldn’t. They’d promised. They’d said he...that he…

He was up against the wall now, pressed tight into the tiny closet’s corner, feeling lightheaded and far away as he fell into hyperventilating, chest aching and screaming for air, the pain momentarily overshadowing the cuts on his hand. 

“Anxiety!” 

“Trying to hide only makes it worse, you know.” 

Virgil didn’t remember sinking to the floor, but suddenly he was curled up in the dark closet, panic and fear taking their hold, sobs finally breaking free, his aching body wracked with violent tremors. 

“Will you shut up?” 

Virgil flinched, despite there being nothing but his own twisted memories, biting down on his sleeves to try to muffle his sobs. 

He jolted at the sudden pressure on his hands, the pain from a particularly deep cut flaring to life, and for just a terrifying second the world seemed to tilt. 

He curled up into as tight of a ball as he could, head buried under his hood, sobbing and shaking in the corner of the closet.