#especially during that first trial

[spookberry]

Kyoko is so funny

[turnaboutfix]

Let's talk about how Edgeworth addresses Maya, because I think it's super interesting!

"Ms. Maya Fey" when introducing her to the court. He's a professional, after all.

"Maya Fey" on a separate occasion.

Does he ever call her "Ms. Fey"?

No. He does address Mia as "Ms. Fey!"

As a matter of fact, Edgeworth uses "Ms. Fey" to only address Mia. He never addresses Maya as "Ms. Fey".

What about after this trial?

He just calls her Maya!

And to her face? Still "Maya".

And then in 3-5, still "Maya Fey"/"Maya".

Besides reserving "Ms. Fey" for just Mia, I think there's a really interesting reason he calls her "Maya" so informally considering his formal tendencies.

Yes, it involves the Japanese version of the game.

"Mayoi-kun...."

"A. Mitsurugi kenji." / "Oh. Prosecutor Mitsurugi."

In Japanese, Edgeworth calls her "Mayoi-kun" after 1-2, where he addresses her as "Ayasato Mayoi" during her trial. If you have a basic understanding of Japanese honorifics, you might be familiar that "-kun" is usually reserved for men and boys. Maya (and Mia) call Phoenix "Naruhodo-kun", as an example. They both use the honorific to imply that Phoenix is a subordinate (which is a touch scandalous coming from Maya, considering she's both younger than him and not even a practicing attorney, but Phoenix never corrects her.) It can also be used for male classmates in school.

There is a reason, however, that women are sometimes addressed as "-kun", and that's in the workplace! It's common for male coworkers to call their female subordinates "-kun", especially if they are a more familiar coworker.

(Edit, slight correction/addition: addressing a female coworker as "-kun" is more common and even seen as more polite than "-san" for a subordinate in settings like parliament and courts!)

As for Edgeworth, he certainly caught that Phoenix addresses Maya as "Mayoi-chan", but it's probably too familiar for him, so he wants to use a more respectful honorific for her, and something more familiar than "-san", which is similar to "Mr."/"Ms." So, he calls her "Mayoi-kun"! (He also calls Kay Faraday "Mikumo-kun", for similar reasons.)

So I can see why the localizers would scratch their heads as to how they would localize "Mayoi-kun". The nuances of using that honorific can't be translated easily, so between calling Maya "Ms. Fey" (and probably also agreeing that ought to be reserved for Mia) and just "Maya", they ultimately decided to just stick with her first name.

[therinaes]

banned 🐚

in which rafayel regained his memories as the sea god after the events at the tome (ref. branch story — land of secret flames) and now freaks out at the sight of you handling sharp objects (iykyk)

tags: rafayel x reader, hint of angst, fluff, crack

wc: 0.4k

ri’s note: yes take this as my coping mechanism from that devastating myth (as a god of tides and fragrant dream truther i was ruined)

You knew your boyfriend Rafayel had a natural inclination to the dramatics, but it wasn’t this bad before.

Well, at least not until you two returned from the Tome of the Sea God. 

After his awakening, Rafayel would first be turned into a ferocious feline before he’d allow you to use — let alone touch — any sharp objects. 

It was so bad it even influenced how you do your missions with him now.

It started with him accompanying you one time on a trial. Now, it was no secret to your beloved that you are adept at wielding different types of weapons — guns, swords, polearms, claymores, or possibly even more. However…

“Cutie, please, have mercy on your poor boyfriend. I feel like I chugged down twenty cups of pure black coffee with ten shots of espresso each every time I see you holding that… that abomination!”

“Raf, it’s just a sword.”

“Exactly! It’s a sword!”

“It’s a weapon. Used for slaying wanderers. I’m a hunter.”

‘Yeah, guess who else it could slay.’ He frowns at his own thoughts.

“Darling, you can use other weapons, right?”

“Should I use a claymore then?”

He winces. “No, not that either!”

“Rafayel, really, what is happening?” 

“My dearest miss bodyguard, for the love of lemuria, for the love of the sea god, I beg you — please just use your guns during your mission instead of those crude, edged weapons.” He pleads. Despite the apparent whine, you could sense that his request is not a mere jest.

Why he is doing this, you do not know. But for the sake of his sanity and yours (he’s a handful when insisting on something), you comply.

Only when he’s with you on missions though. When he’s not… well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

—

“Cutie, why are you holding that?!”

He immediately sprints toward you from the doorway of his kitchen. He slightly slumps over the kitchen counter, beside you, as he gently pries the kitchen knife away from your hands.

“There. Perfect,” He says as he subtly squishes himself parallel to the cutting board, causing you to move to the side involuntarily. Chopping sounds then fill the kitchen.

You dramatically whoop your head to glare at him, who is now looking very pleased with what he has done.

“Rafayel, I’m cooking!”

“No sweetheart, I’m cooking.”

Yes.

Your lover also took over the kitchen upon returning from the tome.

Oh, you want to cook for him? Okay then, but let him do the cutting and chopping.

However, if you really do insist, he’s supervising you closely.

“Why are you acting like that? I won’t stab myself.” You quipped.

“Yeah, that’s what she said.” He grunts.

“What?”

“Hmm? I didn’t say anything. Must’ve been the wind.”

And so, with him around, you and sharp objects are practically a no-no combo. Especially with his own daggers. He’s really protective of them (you, actually). God forbid you wield his dagger again.  He might die if that happens again.

[hanimanny]

SHE'S BARBIE, AND HES JUST… TIM?

a.k.a Bruce notices the many upgrades Tim's been getting since your arrival.

tags: Tim Drake x reader (established relationship), Bruce Wayne x platonic!reader, crack, pretty bird is a certified genius!!!

word count: 2.2k , likes + comments + reblogs appreciated

It first started when Bruce and Tim—in the furry persona—went out on a reconnaissance mission gone wrong.

It was a trap! The blueprints for a deadly android able to possess and control whatever tech exists was rumored to be lurking around this area is nowhere to be seen, and instead, they were greeted with an army of robots. Old prototypes, tank-like and bulky, nothing like they were searching for but still extremely difficult to deal with. 

The robots had surrounded them, and the usual method of overloading them wouldn't work, not with this kind—they were clearly built to take a beating. 

While Batman fights expertly as he does, brute-forcing his way through by ripping out their motherboards, Red Robin takes a different approach. 

He takes his bo-staff, which looks a bit different from his usual one—glowing a faint blue light at its tips—and hums as it spins (yes, like a lightsaber) and tags the robots. 

He rapidly taps the bots with his staff while simultaneously avoiding the attacks targeted at him until he reaches the other side of the warehouse, tagging at least half of the robots. 

With a click of his bo-staff, all the robots drop dead, as if life has been sucked out of them. 

Strange, what the heck did Red Robin do? 

Soon, like a domino effect, the nearby robots to the dead ones drop as well, as if they were infected with the same virus Tim had infected them with. 

“Batman, the nano-virus will only incapacitate them; they’ll wake up in the next hour,” Red Robin informs as he takes the end of his bo-staff and stabs it through a robot's chest—destroying the motherboard.

Nanovirus? When did he come up with that? Sure, the idea of nanotech was prevalent, especially in this day and age, but quick-acting nanotechnology that was able to instantly incapacitate any tech—be it only for an hour—is incredible. 

Batman nods, keeping it in mind to question Red Robin during the debrief, and continues to destroy the robots. 

But the debrief wasn’t helpful at all. Tim was being as elusive as ever, which he thinks he picked up from himself. Saying that the Nano-Virus was a random project that he wanted to try out, that it wasn’t supposed to work this well. 

Overcompensating. Tim’s trying to hide something. He may be great at keeping his tone varied and avoiding detailed explanations that would definitely raise flags, but Bruce is the greatest detective alive and can see through anything. 

Bruce gives Tim a stern scolding. Tell him that he needs to be informed of anything, even if he’s just on a trial. It may have worked this time, but the future is always unforeseen, then dismisses him. 

He’ll get to the bottom of this. 

The next time Bruce sees changes, it’s in Tim’s demeanor. 

He’s been brighter; not that he wasn’t happy before, but Tim has been more chipper. He could assume that was from having a girlfriend—the girl who works as one of the lead biotechnology engineers at Wayne Enterprises, who somehow pulled a Tim (it’s what the kids are calling it) and discovered all their identity in the first week of meeting them. Bruce would lie if he said he wasn’t impressed, especially with how you had no prior experience with being a detective (aside from doxxing people in your teenage years). 

The stress of not needing to hide who and what you are from the person you love is surely elating, but that wasn’t it (maybe partially). 

Maybe bright isn’t the term to describe it… It’s more like he’s free. 

Tim sat on the couch, nursing a large bright red Stanley cup in one hand—probably filled with an ungodly amount of caffeine—and the TV remote in the other. 

“You normally watch in your room.” Bruce's voice breaks the silence between Tim and the paused movie on the flatscreen. Tim peaks over his shoulder, as if he had to make sure that the deep stoic voice belonged to Bruce. 

“Sup B, I do, but Birdie wants the big screen experience—like my room doesn’t have it,” he scoffs as he takes a glug of his drink. 

Bruce nods as he observes Tim further. “You seem less stressed,” he prompts. 

“Yeah, Birdie came up with an A.I able to sort the paperwork and get background checks on every company that wants to make a proposal with WE, so I got less on my plate.” Tim sighs, as if he doesn’t have a pile of untouched cases back at the batcave. “Did you know we have at least 250 fraudulent companies trying to make deals with us? Insane,” he mumbles before his lips are back in the cup. 

“Also, she has me drinking more than 8 cups of water a day; I’ve never felt more alive.” Tim rattles the Stanley cup, hearing the clashing of ice against its metal walls, before again, taking a fat swig. 

Bruce’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second, and not because of Tim’s unhealthy habits (maybe just a little actually). Not only were you able to convince Tim away from his horrible caffeine addiction, although he was still skeptical about the front, but you were able to come up with a program that passes Tim’s savant expectations. 

You would be a great asset to the league, especially now because you know their identities. 

You walk into the living room, startled, as you’d been dead in your tracks at the doorway. 

Your eyes flick towards Bruce, then Tim, then back at Bruce, then Tim. and then—

You’ll never get used to Bruce’s intimidating aura. 

“H-hello, Mr. Bruce Wayne, sir,” you stumble out and… bow? What the heck! You inwardly cringe at your action as you pull yourself up, gripping the bowl of popcorn with an unprecedented amount of strength. 

Tim chuckles at your words, and Bruce settles a gentle smile on his lips because—after an extensive background check on—you truly are as sweet as Tim describes. 

“Didn’t I say to call me, Bruce?”

Your face pales as if you’ve committed the greatest sin alive, as you visibly gulp (at least he still has his intimidation skills). “Yes, Bruce Wayne—I mean, just Bruce,” you nod as your eyes flick at Tim, who reads your mind (but I mean, it’s clear what you’re trying to do). 

“Say, Bruce, do you want to join us for our movie date?” Tim asks, and your face loses all its color at this point. Bruce laughs softly at the comedy of the moment and shakes his head for your sake: “It’s okay, you kids have fun.” 

You wait for Bruce to take his leave, bowing again (seriously, would you stop doing that!). before you scurry off to Tim’s welcoming side, letting out a mixture between a whine and a groan of embarrassment. 

Bruce will save the interrogation for later, saving you the trouble of passing out due to fear and embarrassment. 

Before he's completely out of earshot, Bruce picks up the lingering conversation between the two of you. 

“He's my boss!”

“I’m your boss.”

“That’s different; you’re a loser.” 

“rude”

“Cry about it, furry.”

“Technically, Bruce calls himself Batman, so he’s also—

“If you ever tell him I said that, I'll be sure to put laxatives in all your foods.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

The last innovation that goes under his nose happens, literally, under his nose. or more so the batcave. 

Scarecrow escaped, fear gas smothering the streets, and everyone is in the bat cave preparing to leave for the battlefield. 

Gearing up in his quarters, Bruce—moments before the cowl is up—sees you whispering frantically to Tim, who’s dressed in his own kevlar gear—besides the mask—consoling you gently. 

You seem nervous, more nervous than you normally are when he’s in your vicinity. You’re holding a metallic case to your chest, mumbling something he can’t quite hear. 

Then Tim speaks up, “Bruce!” Not just Bruce looks at him; the others do too—Dick, Damian, and Alfred. Tim then ushers you in front of him, and the way you clutch onto the briefcase makes you seem like a little bird. 

“Come on, pretty bird, you know it’ll work,” he encourages, and you take the deepest breath known to man. 

“I made a vaccination for fear gas.” You start, your shoulders squaring as you stare directly at Bruce, “It blocks any foreign neurotransmitters from pursuing infiltration, so think of it as antibodies for a virus. You inhale it just like fear gas, and you will be immune; it's viable for any variation of fear gas—because I designed it to be fast-adapting—for 24 hrs.”

“Of course, it does vary between everyone’s metabolism, and it must adapt to you first, so for it to work I need to infuse it with your DNA,” you mumble the last part out. 

“And how are you sure it’ll work?”

“I tested it out on myself, which is a very invalid trial, but I promise you, Bruce W.-Bruce, it’ll work.” There's a glint of determination in your eye. Bruce pauses at that and stares at you with his iconic glare. “We’ll discuss this when we get back; how do you administer the DNA?”

Your meek demeanor slowly leaves you as you perk at his acceptance, scurrying away from Tim and towards Bruce. “You just need to prick your finger, wait a minute for everything to infuse, and use it like you use an inhaler,” you instruct as you crouch down to open the case. 

You get to work, pricking Bruce first, then Dick, and with much reluctance from Damian, him as well. 

“Why isn’t Drake taking one?” Damian calls out as you hand the inhaler to the boy. 

You glance over to Tim, who's already looking at you: “Umm… I kinda sorta… already took it.” Bruce deadpans and glares and sighs all at the same time. Tim braces himself for a lecture, but it doesn't come. 

“We don't have time. Let's go.

Bruce turns away, pulling his cowl on, but not before he sees you launch yourself into Tim’s arms in a fit of relief. 

“I can't believe I did that.”

“I can. You're one of a kind, Pretty Bird.”

Bruce huffs and shakes his head. 

…

When they all return, they are much less banged up than they normally are. Your vaccine worked wonders; although temporary, this innovation is amazing! The pathways that have opened are endless; you truly are incredible.

Bruce, of course, forces you to sit through the debrief, which was actually not that bad. Hearing that your vaccine worked way better than expected fills your chest with pride. You can't help but steal glances from Tim, who is fully locked in Red Robin mode right now and doesn't even spare you a glance, but he does give your thigh a little squeeze, something to tell you that he is proud. 

The lectures you receive, on the other hand… You don't know how Tim does it; sit through it with a straight face. You're sitting with your wits tight, breath held, and sweat dripping down your temple. You blink in a daze as you listen to Batman drone about safety, teamwork, and the ethics of self-experimentation and how you should definitely not do it. 

You don't notice the pause in the lecture, zoned out completely to save your heart the trouble of all the anxiety. Although your name coming out of Batman’s mouth surely draws you back into reality. Your eyes focus again, and you’re met with Batman’s infamous gaze.

“Yes?” You squeak out, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Do you want to work for me?” 

You blink owlishly, and your brows furrow in confusion, giving Tim a glance, who only shrugs in response. 

“Um, Mr. Bruce… I already am… working for you— I mean.

“No, as a family physician, I've seen all your degrees: board-certified doctor, surgeon, and PhD in multiple fields. You can work from the manor as well. It's convenient that you already know all our identities and the inner workings of this family. I've also seen the tech upgrades you've given Tim. I believe you will be a great asset.” 

Tim clears his throat, and Bruce spares him a glance. 

“Great addition,” he corrects himself. 

You're bubbling in your spot next to Tim, like a volcano ready to erupt. 

“I would love to work with you all,” you reply back, but it's obvious you're trying to keep your composure in front of Bruce. 

“You can let loose, Pretty Bird, B doesn't bite,” you erupt with permission from Tim. But what neither man expects is for you to launch yourself into Bruce, squeeze him like a giant teddy bear, and let out a string of thank yous. 

Tim is stuck between a state of horror, adoration, and relief watching you hug Bruce with all your might. He didn't know whether to stop you, cheer you on, or simply pass out. 

“I won't let you down, Bruce!” You pull away, and there's a bright gleam in your eye, something that Gotham lacks entirely. 

Where the hell did Tim find this girl?

“Let's go, Duckie!” 

And you're off, pulling Tim along, who’s sporting a lovesick grin. 

The adventures of Pretty bird (shenanigans revolving you and Tim's family)

[vanilleandclove]

let the light in; jack abbot x f!trauma surgeon!reader

the trials of postpartum can strain any relationship especially when your husband is rarely home from work. sometimes you wonder if you’re living the life you envisioned for yourself a decade ago.

warnings: blood- a lot of it. postpartum depression, sleep deprivation, asthma attacks, surgery scars, just found out sylvester stallone is a trump supporter (FUCK YOU), breastfeeding, some terrible parents, anti-vaxxers (get vaccinated i swear to god), arguing word count: 7.9k notes: i’ve seen & had that eye exam done on me, i still have the scar! however, it’s my eyeliner guideline. so sorry for my lack of updates, i am currently on summer break & i am an aspiring film/screenwriter so that has been occupying my time! chat with me at any time, love you all, thank you for your support and patience. 

prev

MONTH ONE

The first month the majority of it was spent in the hospital, you were bedridden due to the constant bouts of blood hemorrhaging; something that only scared the shit out of Jack. You’d get better, your blood count would improve but as soon as it reached a level that you could potentially be discharged, you’d hemorrhage. This last time, Jack swore he was about to lose you, so he found solace in seeing your baby girl during the times Jenna forced him out of the room. 

“Your mom’s a fighter hon” he spoke to the incubator, playing with your daughter’s tiny hand through the gloved side, she was kicking like no tomorrow. When she would cry, it’d be soft and quiet, he swore she cooed at least once. 

She smiled slightly from the comment, Jack wasn’t too sure if it was the combined 6 hours of sleep he had gotten that week playing tricks on his brain or reality.

After a good two hours, Jenna cleared him to go back into the room, letting your mom take over to watch your daughter. So far, she’s been good, constantly checking up on her on the times you and Jack couldn’t; he still wouldn’t let her in the room.

“Abbot I need to speak with you” Jenna whispered just before he entered the room, his eyes were tired, his body was giving up, but his ears perked from her statement, “She went into hypovolemic shock, she lost about 25% of her blood. I’m not saying she’s circling but, now’s the time I need you to make a decision”. 

“What? About what? She was just talking to all of us this morning and you- you want me to figure- what are you saying?” Jack shook his head, “We wanted this- I should’ve just-“.

“Jack, there is nothing you or Y/n could’ve done to prevent this. She’s in stage 2 still, I don’t see it becoming stage 3 unless there’s an incident where I’m not here. We gave her two transfusions today so she might be feverish. So far she isn't rejecting medication or fluid, we still want to move her to the ICU as soon as a bed opens up”. 

When he walked into the room, he could smell the pungent remnants of blood, even with all the cleaning, he saw you fast asleep, color drained from you. 

His first instinct was to rub your knee that had felt even more bony, grabbing your hand that was becoming veiny. You were breathing faster than usual, your skin was cold but not clammy, he checked your pulse and felt the rapid beating of your heart. 

“I’ll come back when I argue with these fucking people in the ICU- won’t leave until they have a bed ready” Jenna cleared her throat.

“Can you get her mom- Y/m/n, she’s in the NICU?” Jack’s voice broke. Jenna nodded to him before tapping on the doorframe and leaving. 

There were flowers from the entire emergency department in your room, Diego’s family who had heard the news when he was due for a checkup, Heather who had brought both of you change of clothes and covers every other day. 

“We are not having sex again” You groaned, waking up on the floor of Jack’s carpeted hotel room, Jack who was right next to you. The sheets entangled the two of you. 

PTMC’s annual company getaway for attendings and department heads, this time celebrated in the beloved city of Albany for some reason. When Gloria had broken the news about the location, only a select few were interested. You and Jack had to pry Robby out of his house to experience the outside world, Heather and him had just called it quits, Heather was fine- Robby, not so much. 

“What even happened?” Jack stretched, admiring the exposed skin and breast from you moving beneath the sheets. Your hair was disheveled, skin supple and the sunlight hit it just perfectly through the blinds, “I love you”. 

You looked at him the moment the words came out, “I look like a mess- I’m pretty sure that’s my mascara smeared on the pillow and my nose is severely clogged” you laughed, the congestion not easing up. “You and rough sex need to be studied- intensively”. 

“May have gone a little too hard, I’m sorry love” he apologized, moving your hair out of the way to kiss your shoulder. 

“A little?” you scoffed, “Don’t worry Doctor Abbot, I for one, enjoyed every last moment” you teased, capturing his lips in the process, “I love you” you muttered as you kissed. 

It was a memory Jack fondly recalled during times of arguing, or now, where he didn’t know if there was going to be another day. 

“Oh my god” he heard a voice emerge from the door, it was your mom, heart breaking at the sight of you with the wires connected to you, the blood bag giving you a transfusion, your rapid heartbeat. “She’s going to- this isn’t goodbye- Jack tell me this isn’t-“.

“No. It’s not, I just knew you wanted to see her, when they move her to ICU you might not be able to” Jack shrugged off her anxiety little by little. “She’s strong, not letting up on anything, every medication she’s not rejecting. Jenna gave her 2 of epi and one of levophed”. 

“What could- how did this happen?”.

“Her scans were clear, nothing to do with the cesarean, they’re hoping it’s just from postpartum- gives her a higher fighting chance” Jack answered, “When she gets to the ICU, they’ll do more tests”. 

“I’ll stay with the baby” she whispered, giving you a kiss on your forehead, “They took her away for some eye exam”. 

“They’re opening her eyes?” Jack’s heart broke, he’s seen the procedure a handful of times, it was brutal, they’d force the baby’s eyes open, it would sometimes scar. 

“You both are doing the best that’s allowed Jack, let me take care of your baby, you take care of mine”. 

MONTH TWO

“Can you help me up?” You croaked, just about to spit out phlegm. Jack immediately helped you up, rubbing your back as you spit up. A small blood clot came out alongside your phlegm from the intubation tube. 

“It’s normal love” he rubbed your back more and more, your throat raw and hurting, you were out of the ICU, this was seemingly your last week of being in the hospital.

They were able to coordinate visits with you and your baby twice a day, sometimes once if you or her were asleep. You wanted to cry every time you saw your baby, more wires attached to her, you wanted to take away her aches and pain as she grew stronger. 

“Do you have water?”.

“You have an I.V. baby, 30 minutes post-intubation I’ll give you some” he sighed, kissing your cracked lips, “How are you feeling?”. 

“Fine, all things considered” you answered, eyes staring at the clock, “How’s our baby?”.

“She’s good, surprisingly she’s growing out of the apnea quickly” Jack told you, “She has your eyes”. 

“No PDA? NEC?”.

“Mild case of NEC, her heart is strong” he answered, “A little jaundice, nothing too extreme, blood is good, she’s sneezing”.

“She’s sneezing?” your eyes betrayed you as you began to tear up, “Can I see her?”.

“After 30 minutes baby” he told you, kissing your forehead, “What do you want to eat?”.

“Pizza”.

“Non-greasy, bland, prison food requests” Jack clarified.

“Turkey sandwich is fine- or mashed potatoes” you shrugged, your arm was bruised from the I.V. 

“I’ll be back” he replied, grabbing his phone in the process of leaving. 

MONTH THREE

“Fuck” you groaned, your nipples not producing any sort of milk, “How am I gonna get her to latch there’s nothing”.

“She’s doing fine on formula honey, don’t strain your stomach” Jack muttered, holding your tiny baby girl in his arms, she got the clear to go home last week. 

“I want to breastfeed, she deserves a mom who can breastfeed her” you grit your teeth, no amount of pumping would draw enough milk for her. 

“Okay stop” Jack sighed, placing your baby in the bassinet that stayed by your bed, “It’s okay, she came early, your body didn’t have time to-“.

“Produce milk” you scoffed, your breasts were engorged all things considered, still, no milk, “I can’t even- she cries when I hold her” you began to tear up, “It’s like she doesn’t even feel that I’m her mom” beginning to slightly start to heave, you looked at the tiny baby in the bassinet, “She sees me the same way I saw my mom”. 

Jack could only sigh and rub your knees, “No she does not” he told you, “Look at me, please?”. He didn’t continue until you glanced up into his eyes, “She senses your worry- that’s why she cries, she knows you tense up and worried you’re going to hurt her. She loves you so much, she doesn’t want her mom to worry”. 

You sniffled, “What if I can’t do this?”.

Jack chuckled, looking between you and your baby, “You loved her before she was even thought of” he placed a kiss on your kneecap, “You and I are going to do this, together”. 

Your tiny baby squirmed and sneezed in her sleep, mending your shattered heart, “Beats having a clogged milk duct at least” you made light of the situation, placing a kiss on your baby girl, seeing her coo in response. 

MONTH THREE + A HALF

You cursed yourself for being a jinx, it was Fourth of July and everyone gathered around Robby’s backyard. Normally, you and Jack host, but since you two have become parents, the house has been a mess. 

You sniffled as you tried to ease the pain of your clogged milk duct, slowly massaging yourself in Robby’s bathroom. Defeated, you decided to text Heather to get Jack. It took less than three minutes for him to be next to you as you pleaded to just solve the damn problem.

“Can you just- just suck it out?” you embarrassingly asked, annoyed and irate from the pain and uncomfortable heaviness. 

“Are you sure?” he asked blankly.

“No. I’m just saying this to turn you on- yes! Please” you sarcastically threw out, as much as this could be a fantasy, you were angry and in pain, “Who has the baby?”.

“Heather took her upstairs for a nap” Jack told you, taking off the straps from your bra to reveal his own personal fantasy, “Wow”.

“You’re turned on from this?” you quirked a brow, “I hope you know a glob-“

“Yea yea I know what fatty milk feels like-“.

“Oh really?” you teased, offering your breast to your husband, “Don’t gag or else if this happens again I’m going to Jenna”. 

MONTH FOUR

“‘You sure you’re okay with working? You can always take a half shift” Dana asked you, it was your first time outside of the house longer than thirty minutes. 

You had to admit, you missed the feeling of your baby on your skin, her tiny coos. She wasn’t that much of a crier, it became worrisome when she’d just laugh things off from things that would objectively hurt a newborn. Fell down on her face on accident? Laughed it off. Scary game of Peak-A-Boo with daddy? Laughed it off. She lulled herself to sleep while laughing. 

“I need to be on my feet Dana” you shrugged, “Plus Jack wanted daddy-daughter time”. 

“How’s the baby?” Dana asked as you both approached the nurse’s station.

“She’s good, loves Jack more than me at this point” you joked, “Girl the spit up- I didn’t know tiny bodies could produce that much” you sympathized with her.

“No blowouts?”.

You shivered before looking at Dana, “You don’t wanna know” you shook your head.

“Doctor Y/n welcome back!” you heard a voice emerge from behind you. 

“Hola!” another tiny voice came into your earshot. 

Turning around you saw Diego and his mom, Serena, herself pregnant. You smiled at the pair, giving Diego a hug then Serena. 

“What brings you two here?” you asked, a tad bit of worry that it was an emergency. 

“Ah just OB check up, Jenna told me you were back and we wanted to say hi before we left” Serena answered, “I have to say, motherhood looks good on you” she added. 

“Thank you, cómo va la escuela Diego?” you nodded, putting your attention on the little boy. 

“Bueno, mi mamá recibió su y sus clases de español-inglés” Diego answered, taking a second to translate in his head, “We are doing well!”.

“Él está aprendiendo mejor que yo” she slightly butchered with her accent. 

“That’s wonderful, just know the vacation is still on the table- you have my number” you told her, bidding them both goodbyes. 

“I don’t get how you do it” Heather spoke up, looking at her charts, “Hell you and Samira neck and neck with patient satisfaction scores- probably holding all of us up collectively”.

You looked to your side to see Samira chatting up with a patient in North 4, you decided to give her a gift today by approaching her in the room, “Good morning Doctor Mohan”.

Her eyes lit up, bewildered by seeing you before excusing herself from the patient, “You’re back?” she smiled, slightly excited and nervous for what you were about to say.

“Since you’re a senior resident, I know you’re familiar about my certain formality to get physicians to maybe consider surgery-“.

“Yes” she immediately answered.

“Samira- formalities” you laughed, “Doctor Mohan would you like to scrub in with me for an exploratory laparotomy today?” you posed the question, her aggressive nodding and smile was enough. 

Luckily, you had two already prepped and ready, the first one would be with Samira’s assistance the next would be on your own. You felt your surgery scar lightly pump, it was slowly healing and forming a keloid from the pressure you put on yourself. 

“Well would you look at that?” you gasped, seeing metastatic cancer in your patient, she was 27 and coming in to see if her own leukemia was cleared, “Shit” you fully got a scope of the situation, seeing aggressiveness of the cancer throughout the woman’s body. 

One thing they don’t fully warn you about postpartum, your hormones take forever to regulate. Your eyes began to tear up and the walls began to slowly close in more and more. 

“Susan call in Walsh- now” you choked up, feeling your vision become to blur, gaining focus as you knew this woman needed your strength to give her a fighting chance. Taking as many samples as you could, closing her as quickly as your hands would allow. 

You left as quick as you could, taking out the phone you shoved in your pocket after talking to the nurse who sent her samples to pathology. 

Dialing Jack as quickly as you could, feeling like you needed to hear his and your baby’s noises.

“Hey baby” you sniffled, taking a seat on the floor.

“Hey, what’s up honey?” he yawned, “What happened?” he quipped early as he heard your sniffle.

“I- Uh- I had a patient, 27, Julian operated on her for leukemia; she’s been in remission for about two years. I did her lap today and she has mets all over her organs and I-“ you started to choke up, “Can I talk to our baby girl?” you asked, hearing Jack lightly shuffle.

“You’re on speaker”. 

“Hi my love” you cooed, “I miss you so much baby girl, Momma is going to be home soon okay? And you’ll get all the tummy kisses”. 

You heard her cooed lightly, feeling your heart swell up, mending the hurt.

MONTH FIVE

“Wanna have sex?” you posed the question as Jack was laid up on the bed, glasses and all with his stubble growing. 

It was Football Sunday, your baby loved to sleep in on Sundays as if she just knew. Her nursery was all decorated, settling on pale yellow and green for her color scheme. It was chilly in her room and you swore she snored just like Jack. 

He chuckled before taking off his glasses and taking his eyes off your television, looking at you at the edge of the bed, teddy lingerie clad on your body. “Baby” he muttered, slightly in a darker tone. 

“C’mon it’s been…” you looked at your phone to see the date, “Exactly 6 months since we had sex… little Abbot might just be angry at me”. 

“Do you want this?” he asked as you straddled on his lap, “I’ll take up your offer as long as you’re not gonna be in pain” he continued. His hands found themselves on your hips, caressing your ass softly. 

“Since when did Jack Abbot not want to have rough sex with his wife?”.

“Since I almost saw you die after birth” he quickly quipped, killing the mood instantly.

You never once got off Jack quicker in your life, if anything you took any chance to climb your husband. Biting your lip before returning to the bathroom where your pajamas were laid on the floor, walking out quick as you could to prepare your and Jack’s breakfast and wake up your baby.

“Baby” he spoke up as he heard you sniffle walking throughout the house, baby in your arm cooing lightly as she looked at her mom. 

You took a breath, “Not in front of her” you replied, “I can’t have this conversation in front of our daughter”.

“When are we going to?” he struggled with his emotions, fixing his prosthetic that was locking too uncomfortably, “We haven’t once talked about it. Either I’m at work, you’re at work, or we are both deflecting with her”.

“Okay no- correction, you’re at work for insane hours and on the off chance I pick up a shift, it just happens that you aren’t working” you quipped back as you got out the pancake mix, “You want to talk about it? Floor is all yours”. 

“You almost died” Jack blurted, “Someone doesn’t just move on from that, hell no amount of therapy is even working to get that image out of my head”. 

“I’m alive Jack!” you scoffed, “You’re treating me as if I’m fragile, I’m alive!” you were angry, out of line, and slowly becoming someone you would want to smack.

“I saw your blood pressure drop into a number I see patients code Y/n” he broke, “The amount of blood I saw I felt as if-“.

You turned around to see Jack become silent, hearing your baby’s coos become light whines. “Baby it’s okay, daddy’s just-“ you were at a loss of words, playing with her hand as your eyes remained fixated on your husband. 

“I can’t sleep because I stare at you breathing” he shuddered, “I hold onto you and check your pulse because I am scared of you” he confessed, “I have nightmares of you losing all of that blood, I can smell it, I can see your life just drain-“.

You rested your spare hand on Jack’s chest, feeling his heartbeat erratic, “Put your hand on my chest” you instructed, seeing him shake his head, “Jack, put your hand on my chest”.

He obeyed, feeling your heartbeat beneath your chest, your inhale and exhales being even and consistent.

“I’m alive” you whispered to him, “I'm not porcelain, you won’t break or lose me”.

“I just-“.

“I know” you nodded, “I am here Jack”.

MONTH SIX

“That’s it mama” you cooed as you sat on the living room carpet, supporting your baby as she sat upright, she babbled endlessly with a smile plastered on her face. 

You smiled at your little girl, look up at the television sparingly to check the time, it was 10 pm, almost time for her bedtime routine and your Jack check up from work.

“Let’s go take a bath baby” you muttered, picking up your little girl before tickling her stomach, “Bubbles mama!” you blew raspberries on her stomach, leading to an explosion of her cute little laughs. 

Bath time was always yours and hers thing. Jack would get her up in the morning and have some time before he crashed, feeding her and making sure she had the best attempt of solid foods. Sometimes he’d sleep with her on his belly despite the worry it brought you that she’d squirm and fall one day. 

Her little toes kicked the bubbles onto your blouse as you bathed her, her babbles louder and louder as you reached her hair and gently washed it with warm water. It was a cold night in Pittsburgh, even the windows frosted over.

She’d yawn upon you changing her and lathering the lotion and baby powder. She didn’t need stories to sleep but you rambled on about your day no matter what, played her favorite noises of the month- this month was jungle sounds. By 11 pm, she was fast asleep, slowly babbling herself to dreamland for five minutes before succumbing to her tiredness. She had Jack’s brunette-copper curls, his facial freckles. God, she was the perfect combination of you both.

You know for the amount of stress this baby put on my body, I was hoping for a carbon copy

You texted Jack, waiting for a response as you brewed a chamomile tea. You weren’t much of a tea person, after Jenna said it was recommended since you were hemorrhaging, you decided to lay off the coffee. 

Abbot genes are strong, how are my girls? Good, baby Abbot is asleep, mama Abbot is making tea. How’s my man? Fucking swamped at work, I miss you on night shift. Walsh is driving me insane. Be nice, she’s a lifesaver Wtv, I’ll see you at home. Love you. I love you too

There were nights where you missed the cuddles, the late night football reruns, the showers together. It was nearly impossible due to your schedules and your little girl, you wouldn’t change a thing though. 

MONTH SEVEN

“Woah babygirl” Jack spoke up as he caught your baby while she stood up holding onto the couch for dear life. Jack’s voice only induced her threat assessment leading the poor girl to cry thinking she did something wrong.

She bounced lightly before letting go, hitting her head on the coffee table in the process leading to Jack’s threat assessment to kick in. She didn’t cry, she did however, chomp on her father’s nose as he picked her up to examine her head. 

“What was that?” you asked as you walked out of the garage, scouring for your luggages.

You and Jack decided it’s time for your baby girl to see Boston, your mom had been begging to see you both. You caved after Jenna and Doctor Varma cleared her- only if the people around her didn’t kiss her and were vaccinated, she was already almost caught up with babies her age, just tinier. 

“She hit her head” Jack spoke with concern as you examined the same thump on her head, fresh set of eyes. 

“That’s okay” you reassured him, “Eyes are fine, she’s responding to stimuli- oh my god I’m talking like our daughter’s is my patient” you caught yourself.

“You don’t think?…” Jack hinted, your daughter looking at you with confusion.

“Abbot’s have hard heads” you joked, “Trust me I married one” you placed a kiss on his lips, wandering off to finish packing yours and the baby’s necessities. 

You decided flying would be the better option, the drive would just piss Jack off. Taking all the precautions, your baby girl was still a babbling angel who was overly scared of When Harry Met Sally. She sneezed a lot, loved to teeth on Jack’s nose and fingers, gave the best butterfly kisses, loved to grab your face with her saliva coated hands.

Upon landing in Boston, it was freezing, leading your little girl to hold her own hands in her stroller and shiver as you reached your mom, who luckily, had a spare blanket with her. 

“I fixed up both rooms for you and my little chums” your mom stated as Jack carried your luggage’s in, “Is it okay if your sister comes for dinner? Or still no visitors?”.

“She can, just don’t have the kids all up on her” you told your mom, letting your little girl out of her seat as she slept for her nap, holding her gently as she only woke up to be moved and went back to sleep. 

“Did they ever figure out why she has GERD?” your mom asked, serving you and Jack water.

“It’s normal, she wasn’t fully developed at birth, her GI tract is just different” you shrugged, playing with your baby’s curls as you walked around your childhood home. 

“Hopefully she grows out of it, so far she hasn’t been needing the breathing machine since she’s on a new dose of steroids” Jack spoke up, kissing the top of her head as he walked past, not forgetting to kiss your lips afterward.

“Any luck breastfeeding?” your mom lightly asked, getting the meat out from her fridge.

“She’s good with formula, I tried and it’s just a no-go” you answered. Feeling your little girl stir before blowing a raspberry in her sleep, “Told you, snores like her dad” you teased. 

MONTH EIGHT

“Look!” Jack shouted excitedly, tapping your shoulder several times. 

You looked away from the television to see your baby girl bouncing on her butt while looking at the Steelers game. Making loud babbles as she saw the footballers tackle each other. 

“Mama, they're winning!” you smiled, looking at your girl bounce even more with excitement, she loved her floor time for no apparent reason, hated being in her room. 

You and Jack heard the door knock which triggered your little girl to look back at you and him, Jack got up

to answer the door. Being greeted with his brother and his kids.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked as you picked up your baby girl. 

“Can’t check up on my brother?” his brother shrugged, you timidly approaching the door in confusion. 

You made sure to cover your baby up as much as you could, furrowing your brows. Jack told both his brothers and his mom about the baby, how you both wanted to wait for a year until you introduced non-vaccinated people, even then you still had your reservations. 

“Outside” Jack sternly said, looking back at you both. 

You bounced your baby as she lightly began to cry from the sight of her uncle and her dad leaving. She knew he was going outside but not that he was returning. From the glass in the door you saw your husband argue with his brother, visibly annoyed. 

“You know daddy has some crazy family” you gossiped with your daughter, only for her to chomp on your nose in response, thinking you were being playful.

Later in the night, you decided to talk about it with Jack. Figured he was still upset even hours after it passed, he remained silent at dinner, your bedroom was awkwardly stretched into an elongated and uncomfortable silence with only the vents of the heater to be heard. 

“So…” you lightly trailed off as Jack dressed himself for bed, your daughter slept in her own nursery- an angel who allowed you both to sleep in and would have to be woken up rather than waking you. 

“Look I told my mom, I didn’t want anyone around her who wasn’t cleared medically” he agitatedly responded, “For him to just show up? Knowing he could have hurt her-“ Jack’s own breath cut him off. 

You adjusted your position on your shared bed, furrowing your brows slightly, “You underestimate our baby girl” you lightly joked, “She’s a fighter”. 

“S’Gets it from her mom” he scrunched his nose, putting a sock on his foot before removing his prosthetic to lay down beside you. 

“Her mom didn’t fight in a war” you chuckled, “Though I do kick ass at my job”.

MONTH NINE

“7 year old boy, was caught playing with his father’s gun and ended up shooting himself in the chest” the EMT went over as the nurses arranged all the medication. 

You and Jack were working together on night shift as you had to hold a surgical seminar in the morning for prospective fellowships, therefore Heather and Robby were babysitting. 

“Was child protective services notified?” you asked as you fixed your safety glasses, intubating the young boy, slowly feeling a stabbing sensation prick your incision sight, sucking in a breath lightly.

“Social work is talking to the parents now, not too sure about afterwards” Cassie responded, she rarely worked nights but the times she did, she’d oddly get a lot of pediatric cases.

“I’m going to wheel him up- Cass update me on the parents” you nodded towards her as you steadfastly ran with your surgical team, already gowned due to your surgery of a teen ectopic pregnancy. 

As you were wheeling the kid up, you could only feel the slight tinge of a burn on your lower abdomen. The adrenaline high you were running on due to the emergency department being overwhelmingly clogged and boarded, was wearing thin with each passing step to the operating room. 

While you held the child under your scalpel, a tiny and timid voice floated in the air of the sterile room.

“Doctor L/n”.

“I’m in a child’s chest cavity, you mind holding off on questions?” you sternly quipped, dull ache cascading across your abdomen.

“Doctor L/n” the voice repeated, more worried. 

You looked up only to see horrified looks of your entire surgical team. Scrub nurses furrowing their brows, training surgeons, the anesthesiologist. You slightly winced, feeling another prick before you heard a voice on the intercom.

“I’m taking over Doctor L/n, Bridget said social services need to see you” Emery’s voice spoke up as she scrubbed in, the same puzzled and worried look painted on her face as well. 

You shrugged off your gown and discarded your gloves, walking back into the scrub room to wash your hands only to see dark stains through your navy scrubs, you lifted your scrub to reveal your cesarean scar to be open, violently red and bleeding with no warning. The cold air touched the wound, leading you to suck in a breath and attempt to wash with water only for the pain to get worse. The incision in itself was thin, the wound now almost looked as if it were a gash. 

Making your way upstairs as the burning sensation grew vapid and unnerving. Meeting up with Bridget who was already talking to social services.

“Oh this is Doctor L/n, she’s our head of trauma, she was operating on Henry just now” Bridget introduced you, making eyes to the one on the left who was seemingly flirtatious towards her. 

“Good evening, nice to meet you” you slightly grunted out in pain, absolving it with a feigned smile. 

“Good evening to you too. Henry’s mom wants to claim the gunshot was completely accidental but after a couple neighbors who had seen the dispute came forward it looked to be inflicted by his father” the social worker revealed, “We just wanted to know how the wound looked to you, the EMTs weren’t able to capture a photo for evidence”. 

“There was no exit wound, I’m too savvy with forensic analysis but it appeared to enter from the back rather than the front ruling out self infliction” you revealed, “My colleague Doctor Walsh is finishing up in the OR. We have several documenters who are in the operating room as we operate for both educational and lawsuit purposes- I can give you that as soon as it’s available”. 

As the social workers took their leave you turned to Bridget with your dilemma, “My scar opened” you breathed.

“What?” her eyes popped, looking towards your abdomen.

“I don’t know how- or why. I just- I need someone to stitch and clean- Jack can’t know about this” you quickly told her.

“Honey, why not?” she whispered, concerned.

“Because- look, we just started you know again and that took us forever to reach” you sighed, shaking your head lightly, “If he found out about this, we’d be back at square one”. 

Bridget nodded, looking over at Javadi who has finally done another night shift rotation, “Javadi, Doctor L/n needs your help in south 6” she smiled at the medical student, gaining a nod. 

You made your way to south 6 only to see a puzzled Victoria staring at the blank bed before here.

“I thought Bridget said-“.

“I’m the patient” you smiled with a sigh, lifting up your scrub top to reveal the bleeding wound, “Opened while I was wheeling Henry up- can you please help?” you pleaded.

Victoria didn’t hesitate to sterilize and stitch you up, gaining points for you to maybe offer a scrub in offer. It seemed only right. 

MONTH TEN

“Have you seen-“ Jack’s voice emerged as you bathed your daughter, he was dressed in the brown-olive suit you bought him for your anniversary about three years ago, “… My tie?”.

You tickled your daughter's stomach, her hand holding your pinky as you turned your head to look at your husband, “Where are you going?” you quirked a brow. 

“Some veterans thing- I told you two days ago”.

You quirked your head to the side lightly, biting your lip slightly to convey a piqued interest, severely regretting this past week where things you’ve been told have been flying out of your head. 

It started with Heather and Robby, both being serious under-communicators as people who traditionally and painstakingly, can’t have a moment of silence. 

“And I literally told him, wet towels don’t belong on the bed and it’s just- I don’t know! It’s a serious pet peeve of mine, he’s known that since the first time” Heather vented as you typed on the computer, it was barely 6:45 in the morning. Normally her and Robby would walk to work together, today, you could swear you heard the keys to her Acura jingle.

You furrowed your brows, almost mistakenly not marking a patient's height from your physical charts that you kept on you just in case. “Hm?” you asked, eyes fluttering to look at Heather once more.

“You know what, I’ll let it slide, you and Jack must not be getting sleep”. 

“Oh he is!” you scoffed, fixing your reading glasses from falling down the bridge of your nose, “I get the chomping, crying, diaper blowout baby, he gets the, too sleepy to be hyper, an angel by all accounts baby”. Your brows formed stress lines as you spoke, a pang in your chest radiated as you realized, you just complained about your husband who- by all accounts- has been so helpful, one may think it’s overbearing.

Heather nodded, “You know if you guys need anything, we’re down the street”.

“Robby’s wet towels may not be the best for my baby girl” you winked.

That brings you back to today, where your husband stands dressed in his suit, you in your sweats and old Boston University shirt. You could only scoff at the man upon instinct, feeling as if your emotions betrayed your mind that tried so hard to not argue. 

“Everything alright?”. 

“Yeah- just need to put her to sleep” you locked your lips, laying your daughter on your shared bed as you rubbed lotion on her squirming body, her gummy smile beautiful as ever.

Her tiny legs kicked and kicked, her little squeals and slightly sniffles from her legs being above chest level. Her squinted eyes from the smile she gave you, she loved her momma, loved the times spent with her that she didn’t understand that she was cherishing little by little as a stored memory. 

“I don’t have to go,” Jack’s voice spoke up from the corner of your room, just next to the en-suite door. 

“No. Just go, they’re expecting you there anyways” you sighed, a tad bitter, a tad tired. A whole lot of confusion and anger towards your own memory system.

Jack nodded, giving you both a kiss as he walked out, squeezing your upper arm just before taking his leave. You felt the cold metal of his wedding band send shivers and goosebumps on your skin. 

It was 8 pm when he had left, now at 4 am, waking your daughter up for her preemptive feeding to combat the 4:30 am alarm she has built into her. You enjoyed motherhood like any mother could, enjoyed your little girl, but; nights like these where the house is quiet, your husband is gone, all you can hear is the suckling of the baby bottle as you zone out into the abyss, wondering if Pittsburgh instead of D.C. was the right move. If you had taken the fellowship in California, pursued your internship in Maine, took a different path, what would change? Would you be fiddling with your wedding ring as your husband stays out of your home, as you feed the gentle and warm human in your arms who’s slightly grunting from swallowing the milk. 

When you hear the key enter the doorknob, it’s 6 am, the sun peeking through the sky as it gradually becomes a lighter blue. Your daughter fast asleep in the bassinet she’s grown out of but loves nonetheless, her coos paused for quick seconds as her nose sniffles. Eyebags marrying your under eyes, purple and green, somewhat yellow as if you’d been punched. Jack knew you couldn’t sleep without him, he silently judged himself for the unintentional torture he caused. 

The first words you had uttered in hours, your throat hoarse and dry from lack of hydration, “We’ll talk later” was all you could muster. Picking up your baby girl to take her to her own room before paddling off into your and Jack’s. Feet tired and fully holding you all together. 

Later didn’t come until you had gotten 5 hours of sleep, praising the schedule you were afforded for the past several months. Jack was in for the limited time he had as he had work later that night. So of course, at 4 pm, you had picked the fight as you laid your baby down for her nap- her naps were always long enough to do things around the house and not worry for her wails- she was a passive baby, like her father. 

As you and Jack sat opposite each other across your shared backyard patio, the sun beaming brightly. You licked your lips before daring to speak, cracked from dehydration. 

“I knew motherhood would be a troublesome thing to go through” you cleared your throat, staring off into the distance just shy from Jack, “I knew it, I still know it. I just- I thought—“ you carefully wanted to pick your words before realizing, it didn’t matter, Jack would see right through you, “When it comes to us parenting, we don’t see eye to eye. We don’t talk, we don’t kiss, hell you can’t even give me your good graces knowing I may not remember certain things- that there are a million and one things floating in my head and she’s always going to be number one”.

“Babe, I truly didn’t care if we didn’t go or not I just made a promise that I was not just going to back down on” he sighed, “We don’t see eye to eye. That’s what makes us work, we’re different and yet we have someone in common, someone warm and gentle. And that whole kissing thing, I kiss you every single night even when you slobber from your open mouth snores” he confessed.

“Jack that’s not the point” you ran your hands through your hair, “You’re leaving me alone in times I need you- you’re everything and nothing all at once these days and I just- I hate myself for saying it, I feel left alone in this”.

The words didn’t hurt, but they did sting enough to visibly change Jack, the statement registering and processing in his head as he realized what you’ve been feeling. 

“You can’t just be here when it’s good, and leave when it’s not” your voice cracked, your throat felt raw and scratchy, “I love you- with every part of me, I love you, but I can’t be treated like I’m last in every single part of your- our- life” you began to cry, the days of sleep deprivation and running on an adrenaline plus caffeine induced high caught up to you and you instantly gave up, holding yourself up onto one of the patio chairs. 

“I thought I’d be better at this” you vented, slightly hyperventilating, “I thought something would just click and it’d be all driven on instinct- now I just wonder if this is even how I wanted things to be”. 

Jack let you cry and vent for an hour, he knew he’d have to somehow consolidate those feelings into some form of improvement in his parenting and loving you. 

MONTH ELEVEN

“Good girl mama” Jack cheered as your daughter clung to his hands while they practiced walking, her balance had improved within the past few weeks- almost confident enough to not need support. 

They say the worst parents to have are doctors. Nevertheless having two parents as doctors especially in emergency medicine. So when your daughter began to have increasingly common asthma attacks, your mama-bear mode was kickstarted severely.

This time, it happened when you were on the clock.

“Okay leave it- Doctor Abbot hands off your baby girl” the peds ward nurses kept shouting as Jack kept trying to get your baby girl to breathe evenly. 

You didn’t know, having been in surgery when she was admitted. Though the looks everyone gave you and the comment from Bridget to avoid the peds ward, it only sent you into a downward spiral. Sure enough you saw her in the database, saw that Jack was somehow labeled as her emergency room doctor. Upon reaching her room you were only met with every mother’s nightmare of their baby not breathing and their husband beginning to break.

You stood there in shock as they gave your baby high flow oxygen and stimulated her chest for her breathing to even out, one raspy and wrathful cough escaped her mouth- you could feel her throat pain from that alone. 

“She came in because of an asthma attack- we’re going to do a combo of albuterol and ipratropium, Jack almost had to code her” Doctor Varma explained to you, looking at you both as you stared in shock and horror at each other. You gulped and nodded before fully entering the room, “She’s doing fine hon’, asthma attacks can be severe but they can be treated easily and quickly- she’s a strong girl like her parents” she added on before leaving you both.

It was quiet in the room and held onto Jack’s hand for dear life, your knuckles pale from the grip. You could feel his hurt. 

“We were just walking, she got her balance controlled and then-“ Jack’s breath hitched, “She just wouldn’t breathe and I tried and-“.

You hushed him lightly, kissing the top of his curls, you could smell the sweat from the stress. 

The worst parents to have are doctors, for multitudes of reasons. The overwhelming health diagnoses, the fact that they need to know and have your history, the easier access to medical care, the arsenal of equipment and prescriptions kept at home. But mainly because they know about everything that could go possibly wrong when their child’s life is at stake. 

MONTH TWELVE

Your daughter wouldn’t grow, courtesy of the steroids stunting her growth. No matter how tiny, the precious little girl was a runner. 

Whether after bath time and almost slipping just before Jack caught her, the nonstop drumming in her high chair, she was a mover and a lover of sound by all accounts. 

Except birthdays, when all there was was loud noises and constant moving. So when she tugged on your skirt that you noticed something was different and overwhelming her from her flushed face and disheveled dark, copper, hair that she got from her dad. 

Jack’s family, no matter what you guys were doing, were cordial. The way they handled COVID and the election put a damp stain on their relationship with Jack to the point he even questioned if he wanted them in your daughter's life. You allowed for sparing interactions where Jack would’ve said no to any and all. Though you gave restrictions, you won’t tell them to get vaccinated, they won’t tell you that they believe in “facts”.

You knew it meant a lot to Jack’s mom, the only son who fully moved and made a living for himself. The eldest son was the last one to have kids, who would’ve thought. 

You excused yourself from your sister and Heather as you walked with your daughter inside the house where she led you to her room, settling down in her rocking chair, her eyes faltering and blinking sparingly, poor baby was tired. 

Smiling, you scooped your little girl into you and sat down on the rocking chair, her head to your chest, rocking slowly to lull her asleep.

Jack opened the door after a few minutes went by, remaining quiet as he approached you both, kissing your forehead as he massaged your scalp. 

“Your mom’s handling the presents” Jack murmured, caressing the handle that supported your baby girl, her pigtails now even and cleaned up as you fixed them while she slept. 

“We survived one year” you sighed, bumping Jack’s fist he had formed, “Thought I’d never see the day”.

“That you have a baby?”.

“That I have a baby with Doctor Abbot, who by all accounts made me overwhelmingly nervous on my first day of work” you joked, looking up at your husband.

“Wow, I have a baby with Rambo,” he joked back.

All you could do is smile, to be fair, Rambo was the first nickname Jack referred you to. And one of the first words your baby said, hell, if you didn’t have your own predispositions on Sylvester Stallone, you’d thank him. 

dividers by @cafekitsune

[rhaenyraeri]

Forevermore - Remmick

minors dni, 18+!!

Pairing: Remmick x fem!Reader

Summary: During one of his nightly visits, you prompt Remmick to make a hard decision.

Warnings: blood play, oral (fem!receiving), dirty talk, biting, scratching

Word Count: 1.7k

Tonight, like most nights, you let him in. He’d came to your house, leaned up against the wooden post at the top of your steps, using that charm he had to impress you. He didn’t have to most nights. You’d grown particularly found of this vampire, and he’d the same for you, a mere human that he should want to kill. But you were different, and the both of you knew that the dynamic wasn’t good for either of you.

But here you were now, laid face down on the bed as Remmick ran his hands up and down your body. You’d been at it for a few hours now, and you were exhausted. He never got tired, but he understood that someone like you needed a rest every so often. He laid beside you as his hands worshiped the body you let him have every night, the occasional vampiric drool seeping out. Your blood was different to him. It called out of his name like a song, luring him in. intoxicating in a way that others weren’t. Maybe he just convinced himself of that, maybe it was actually different, or maybe he’d been too blinded by his star-crossed love for you. Part of him wanted to turn you, to have you forever, but the other didn’t want to rip you from the life you had. One that had an ending, had trials and tribulations. It would be selfish to change you. At least it’s what he thought. Had he had a choice, he wouldn’t have taken it.

“You’re awfully quiet, Rem. What’s on your mind?” You broke the peaceful silence, knowing that usually he’d had a lot to talk about but tonight he was silent.

“Oh, nothin’, darlin’. Just takin’ in the silence, is all.”

You knew him better, though. For Remmick to not have anything to say, especially now between your nightly sexual sessions. You loved him, and you could swear you felt that he loved you too. You wanted to spend your lifetime with him, as much as he’d probably reject the idea.

“I know you better than that. Come on, tell me what’s going through your mind.”

He sighed, moving to lay beside you on the bed. You matched his movements, turning onto your side to nestle into his body.

“I just.. Well.. I.. Darlin’, I wanna have you forever. I can’t rip you from this life you got, though. It’s too perfect, too taken for granted when you’re cursed to eternity like me.”

You looked up to him, eyes locking onto his face. For the first time, you saw a perturbed look on it, the sense of longing furrowed his eyebrows.

“Oh, Rem. I want to be with you for the rest of my life, too. But, we don’t have to be like this. Each day I die a little more, years from now I’ll be all old and wrinkled, and you’ll still be you. Maybe, I.. maybe you’d..” you now took your left hand to push some of his short hair behind his ear, “maybe you could change me?”

His eyes shot to yours. He was shocked, a look you didn’t see very often from him. He couldn’t steal that from you. He also couldn’t bear to lose you, either.

“Darlin’, I.. I don’t want you to lose out on life like this. You’d be here forever, you know that, right? I-I’ve spent centuries here, and it was loneliest damn thing I ever experienced. But then I met you, honey. You’re special to me, more than you know.”

“Rem.. I-I.. I love you. I know that’s probably not what you want to hear, a human committed to a creature of the night like you. It’s true, though. And I think, or at least hope, you feel the same way. I’m serious. I want to spend eternity with you.”

You felt your heart start to race at the thought of that. Eternity. Thousands of lifetimes, millions of people living and dying, experiencing things that makes humans.. human. All happening while the two of you were here on this earth to stay. Forever.

He sighed again, this time one dripping with debate. He couldn’t bear the rest of his life without you with him. The hours of daytime he waited in caves and old abandoned houses for the sunset to come, all spent thinking about you. The time between each fuck that you spent resting as he adored you. The times even, that you were most human. The nights you were sick, so you just laid in the bed as he held your sleeping figure. The nights where he got to just spend time with you, appreciating you in more domestic ways. He’d came around your house many times by now, more than you could count. He’d grown immune to the hunger that your blood caused in him. Some nights he wondered just how you would taste, if given the chance. An intrusive thought that refused to leave him.

“I wanna spend it with you too, sweetheart, I do,” he finally spoke, “but are you sure? I want you to be absolutely certain you want it. Everything you know will change. It’s gon’ be hard to get used to.”

“I’m sure, Rem. Sure as I could ever be.”

He gave you a slight smile, he was still unsure about it, having to kill you for you to turn. If he were to do this, he was to do it right. He kissed your forehead, and turned you onto your back. He sat up to hover over you, eyes now red and drool seeping from the corner of his mouth. He kissed you deeply, one filled with love and passion. He moved away from your mouth to kiss your cheek. His teeth grazed down your neck, piercing just enough to feel like a cat scratch but not enough to inflict pain. Almost as if he wanted to take his time teasing you, antagonizing you. He dragged his teeth back up your neck, the thin scratch he just made had become a little more painful as it was being irritated. Slowly, the blood seeped out of your neck and barely touched his tongue. A course and carnal moan erupted from him. The taste of your blood drove him insane. It was sweet, like you. Almost like the sweets he could remember from his childhood, days of many centuries past. He sucked the blood a little more out of your neck, savoring the flavor, then kissing it. One of his hands now had claws, something you’d never seen before. He placed light kisses on your chest down to your stomach, and then your hip bone, right above your core.

“Your blood is so sweet, darlin’. Lemme see how sweet your pussy will taste with your it, too.” One of his hands slid up your leg and up to your stomach. The claws came out as he laid his hand between your breasts. You’d only heard about them in some stories he’d told you. They slightly pierced your skin, dragging little scratches from your chest down to your hip bone. The blood seeped out quick, and he leaned up to lick his way back down your body, taking each droplet in with a moan. He swallowed deeply, drooling a little harder now as he looked up at you.

“You ready for me, sweetheart? I know she is.” You nodded, eagerness churning in your stomach. His mouth met with your pussy, lapping at it like it was his last meal. To be fair, it was his last meal of your humanity. After tonight, you would be a creature of the night alongside him, reigning terror amongst the unexpecting together. He hummed against you, savoring the sweetness of your blood and the intensity of your slick. Before you could grab his hair, he stops his movements and looks up at the scratches on your stomach. He goes up to taste the fresh blood and returns to your pussy, humming in content, then back up to kiss you. Now you’ve tasted what he desired, and it’s all intoxicating for you. He breaks from the kiss to flip you around on your hands and knees, and he puts a clawed hand on your hip, using the other to line himself up with you, before slowly pushing in. His pace is slow at first, taking in the last time you would have this dynamic. You moaned into the pillow, before giving a muffled, “faster.” His speed picks up, his hands on your hips to guide you back to his. Moans filled the room now, reverberating off the walls. It’s all either of you could hear aside from the slapping of your bodies together. You wanted him deeper, so much more deeper than he was now, something you knew couldn’t be acquired but you couldn’t get enough. He fucked you with a different aura tonight, you could feel the love and desire in each thrust. “Fuck, darlin’, you feel so damn good. You like it, huh? You like havin’ me inside you? Fuckin’ you like this?”

All you could do was moan in agreement, the sensualness of it all stealing your words from you. His sounds now turned filthier and rough, each one getting louder and louder the closer he got. “Fuck, Rem, I’m gonna.. fuck, I’m almost..” “I know, honey, let it out sweetheart, come on.” He twirled your hair around his hand and pulled you up so that your neck was level with his mouth. His tongue danced along the old scratches from earlier, tasting the dried blood. As soon as your orgasm hit, his vampiric teeth bit hard onto your neck, sucking on the delicious blood you offered up to him. Your right hand reach up to his face, pressing his teeth harder into you. He came right after, his orgasmic moans rumbled through his teeth and into the puncture wounds. You emitted sounds so ethereal to him, the pain and pleasure of him turning you was unlike anything he’d ever heard before.. almost heavenly. He sucked just a little more of your blood out of you, before slowly pulling out of you and lowering you back down onto the pillow. He laid down beside you once more, pushing hair out of your face as you looked at him. You weren’t in discomfort, no, but you were more at peace? He wasn’t sure how you didn’t react with pain, but the smile you showed him as your eyes fluttered shut gave him all the reassurance he needed. This was the correct choice.

You were his, and he was yours. For now and forever.

[acosmicbee]

Tender Loving Care

500 Follower Celebration - Day 1

Ever since your parents had divorced, your life had gotten so much harder. At first, you were sure it was a good thing. They could hardly stand each other and fought every second.

But then your father had moved across the country with his new wife. Despite this, you were still court mandated to visit him during the summer and holidays. Your father often lamented about how unfair it was that your mother had primary custody and you never visited, but never once paid for a plane ticket for you.

Instead, you were usually stuck on two or three trains across the country when you did finally visit. For three or four days, you would be stuck sitting still until you'd finally reach your destination.

Your mother only made you go so she wouldn't have to go back to court and see your father's face again. Either way, you were miserable and dragged your feet whenever you did have to go over to his place.

Despite your fussing and complaining, you never missed a visit for your mother's sake. Which led you to where you were now, picking out an empty window seat on the second train in your journey. It was a few minutes later, towards the end of boarding, when a man sat down beside you.

You barely glanced at him, both of you minding your own business as he took out a computer from his briefcase and began to work on something. You were on your phone, just trying to keep yourself entertained.

As the train pulled out of the station, you finally settled on some article with an outrageous sounding title. 'Local Bullies Found Dead After Innocent Verdict.'

Of course, by local, based on your phone's location, it was actually from the area where you'd boarded the train. The article painted a rather tragic story. A teen, just a little older than yourself, had been found dead in the school bathroom.

Apparently, the person had been getting bullied for months, but the school had always brushed it off as 'children playing'. At least, that was until the body was found.

Despite evidence of foul play, it was dismissed as a drug overdose, and the charges were dropped because the bullies came from rich parents. At the very top of the article was a picture of the teen as well as one of a man hunched over in a courtroom, sobbing. Curled up next to him, looking absolutely distraught, was a woman with a hand on his shoulder. The description labeled them as the victims' parents.

Except, all of the bullies had been found dead after going missing for a couple of days. It was obviously murder so an investigation had been opened.

You felt bad for the parents of the first kid. Obviously, they'd lost their son and had never gotten the closure they deserved. Not that you condoned the murder of the bullies, but at least there was some form of vengeance...

"Ah. You must not be local if you haven't heard of the Williams case." The man next to you said. You looked up at him, and he smiled. He had a thick southern accent and looked friendly enough.

Of course, you'd grown up being told not to talk to strangers. But you just had to know more about it. The case just seemed so unusual, and you couldn't remember hearing anything like it before.

"I'm not from around here." You said plainly, and the man smiled.

"Ah, I can tell. Different accent." He said before glancing at your phone again. He sighed, his face hardening. "It was a disgrace, the way the trial went. Complete mismanagement of the justice system."

"I knew the victim's family. I knew him, Danny, before the bullying started... I just wish I could go back and save him from all that pain..." The man trailed off, his voice wavering. You felt a little bad for him, especially because he seemed to be lost in old memories.

"I'm Y/N." You murmured, closing the article. The man gave you a weak smile, wiping at his eyes.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Y/N. My name's William, but I just go by Bill."

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Bill was a decent seat mate for the remainder of the trip. He told you a little more about Danny and what he was like, as well as the aftermath of the case in the community. Apparently, there were quite a few suspects for the revenge murders as well as numerous people who had been looking down on those families after what happened, so the case wasn't clear cut.

"The police there aren't too thorough, though, so I doubt much will come of it. At most, they'll try and find someone to pin it on so they don't look too incompetent, but they have no idea what they're doing." He said, sighing. 

"That's unfortunate..." You said, frowning. Then again, you didn't have much faith in the justice system either seeing as you still had to visit your dad. You sighed, closing your eyes for a second.

"Speaking of which, what are you doing on this train anyways? You're what, 14? Maybe 15, and you're traveling all alone." Bill asked. You opened your eyes again with a sigh. 

"Visiting family. You?" You asked. It was close enough to the truth without going into too much detail. While Bill was nice, he was still a strange man who you hadn't met before. You weren't about to go into your family problems with some random dude.

"Same. My mom was complaining that I missed her fourth wedding, so I'm heading out there to visit." He said. You turned to look at him. 

"Fourth wedding?"

"Yeah. She can't keep a man. She always does something that makes them leave her, with good reason, of course. But she still insists I show up and meet her new husband, even if he'll only last a year or two, if shes lucky." Bill sighed. "On top of that, her new husband has a kid who's gonna be staying there. Not that I have anything against them, I've never met them... but it's gonna be hard after what happened to Danny. I'm still not completely over it."

You understood where he was coming from. Him being so open made you feel like maybe it would be okay to share a little about yourself as well. "I live with my mom most of the time. My dad moved across the country, but the court still says I have to visit him for summer break, even if I hate it. I only do it for my mom." 

"Yeah, I get that. I mean, I'm not legally obligated to visit her anymore, but I just haven't found it in myself to cut her off just yet." He said. 

After that random bout of story sharing, a period of silence fell between the two of you. Bill went back to whatever work he was doing on his laptop, and you went back to scrolling on your phone before eventually drifting off. The train would be going through the night, and your stop was the last one, so you had time to sleep. 

While you slept, Bill watched you, a saddened expression on his face. You reminded him so much of Danny. Maybe, if his new step-sibling was anything like you, this trip wouldn't be as bad.

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"Ah, thank you." Bill smiled at you as he helped to get your bag down from the overhead luggage rack.

"It's no problem. Are you gonna be okay alone on the rest of your trip?" He asked, looking a little worried. You just nodded, giving him a small smile.

"I've done it before. I'll be fine." You answered, taking your bag's handle. As you both disembarked from the train, you separated in the crowd. Bill watched you go, ignoring the urge in his heart to go after you. After all, something inside him just knew he would see you again at some point.

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You finally stepped off your final train onto the crowded platform. You'd parted with Bill a day and a half ago, and two trains later, you were really starting to get bored being cooped up. You tugged your suitcase behind you as you navigated to the exit of the station.

The road outside was littered with taxis and ubers, waiting to pick up the usual business clientele and bring them to whatever hotel or destination they needed. You, a teen who looked more sleep deprived than living, stood out like a sore thumb. As you scanned the hoard of cars, you finally located your father's.

As you approached, he climbed out with a smile, offering a hand to help with your luggage. You just huffed, hoisting it into his trunk without any help. He didn't seem put off at all, and his cheerful smile never wavered. At this point, after all the years of doing this, he was probably used to your grumpiness whenever you arrived. 

"This is going to be a very special summer, Y/N!" He said once you were both buckled into the car, and he started to drive. "Mari finally convinced her son to come and visit, and he's going to be flying in tonight. Sure, he's older than you, maybe 10 or so years, but I'm sure you two will get along great!"

Mari, short for Marigold, was the name of your stepmother. There wasn't necessarily bad blood between you two, but you definitely didn't really like each other. Therefore, you weren't nearly as happy as your father was for this apparent 'sibling bonding' opportunity. Not to mention that someone ten years older would be an adult who likely wouldn't want to hang out with a teen.

"I'm really sleep deprived. Can I please just go to bed?" You asked. Your father deflated a little but still had a cheery air about him.

"Of course, sweetheart! You do what you need, and you know where your room is." He said, as you finally pulled up in front of the house. You immediately got out of the car, heading straight for your bedroom. Your father, graciously, carried your luggage for you and placed it in your room before leaving you alone. 

You barely had the energy to change into pajamas before you fell into your bed asleep.

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"Oh, did Y/N already arrive?" Mari asked. She had been out grabbing some new sheets for the room her son was staying in. She'd picked him up from the airport after, and he was standing behind her, helping to carry in some of the other groceries she'd picked up before getting him.

"Yep. They're out like a light, same as always. You probably won't be seeing them til at least 10 tomorrow." Your father joked. 

"Their name is Y/N?" Mari's son asked, looking curious.

"Yeah." Your father pointed towards a small framed photo hanging on the wall. The photo was from last year when you'd been here, laying in the grass in the backyard. Mari's son hummed, smiling a little at the picture.

"Ah, will you please help me with these groceries, William?" Your father asked. The man smiled, although it was strained, as he turned around.

"It's just Bill." He answered, his tone a practiced calm as he started to help unpack the items.

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You woke up late the next day. The alarm clock on your nightstand read '11:42', which is now your second latest time sleeping in after arriving at your dads. A few rays of sun managed to find their way through your closed curtains but that wasn't what woke you up. As you lay there, wondering why you had awoken, there was a knock on your door.

"Y/N? Are you still sleeping?" Your father asked, knocking once again. You grumpily stumbled out of bed and opened the door.

"I was sleeping." You mumbled, crossing your arms. Your father didn't look apologetic at all as he mimicked your position, crossing his arms.

"Well, me and Mari have some errands to run. Don't forget to eat breakfast." He turned to leave before reappearing in the doorway. "Oh yeah! Mari's son is here so don't be alarmed if you see him. And be nice!" 

"I am nice!" You yelled, grumbling as you curled back into your sheets.

You tried to fall asleep again but you just couldn't. Now that you were awake, you were too awake to go back to sleep but too sleepy to get up. You compromised by just laying there, listening as the front door shut and the sound of your dad's car left the driveway.

About 20 minutes later, a distant sweet smell began to fill the air. Was someone making pancakes or waffles or something? That was enough to rouse you before you remembered your dad's warning. You decided your pajamas were fine enough clothes for a first introduction, plus you didn't feel like changing.

As you started to descend the stairs, you could hear someone moving around the kitchen. You could hear gentle humming along with the clinking of dishes as they worked. It was clearly a guy, but the voice sounded vaguely familiar to you.

It was only once you peeked into the kitchen that your eyes widened. Mari's mysterious son was the same guy you'd sat next to on the train. The one you'd have a very in-depth conversation with about his dead friend(?). He'd never fully elaborated on how he'd known the dead kid, maybe he mentored him.

It was at that moment that he turned around his eyes lighting up as he set his spatula aside.

"Well well well, isn't this a lovely surprise." He grinned, waving you over. "Well, come sit down. I made waffles."

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"Maybe it's fate!" Your dad joked that night at dinner. Bill was more than happy to explain where the two of you had met, omitting your conversation topic. You nervously laughed, feeling a little uncomfortable with the idea.

You were used to being an only child. Bill seemed nice but a little overbearing. You really were missing your mom right now, as well as the house that decidedly felt like home. You should text her later, even if it might take her a bit to respond with the time difference.

"Y/N?" You snapped back to the conversation. Your dad was giving you an annoyed look before he sighed, and the look disappeared. "Your mom called me. Don't forget to get your summer homework done at some point."

Ah, no wonder he was so interested in playing family. He must've taken the call outside, and even then its a wonder you didn't hear them screaming at each other. After those calls, he always insisted on acting like the perfect family for a day or two as if he could rub it in your mom's face from across the country.

In all honesty, your mom didn't care, but it made things extra weird for you for a while. Bill didn't seem to mind at all, easily blending into the facade of a happy family. Maybe he was more used to it because of the numerous step fathers he'd told you about on the train. 

"Well, I guess I'll go get started on it. Thank you for dinner." You practically dashed from the dining room before anyone could object. After washing your dish, you went back to secluding yourself in your room. You'd just started, begrudgingly, pulling out the homework when there was a knock at your door.

"Hey, Y/N. Can I come in?" It was Bill, who didn't wait before opening your door a crack. He looked around your room for a second before focusing on you. "Your dad wanted me to let you know that you can come to me if you need help with anything, okay?"

You shrugged, sighing softly when he left and closed your door again. This would be a very long summer.

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"Residents should be aware that anyone close to the coast has been issued an evacuation mandate. Winds are expected to be upwards of 160 miles per hour, making this a category 5 hurricane." A grim faced weatherman announced from the TV. 

Bill grimaced from his position on the opposite side of the couch as you. Your parents were out buying supplies to help weather the incoming hurricane. The area your dad lived in wasn't under an evacuation mandate, but it was strongly recommended that people begin to evacuate. Tension was beginning to rise within the house, and everyone seemed on edge.

Bill, who had the opportunity and an excuse to leave, had decided to stay with the three of you. Your mom was calling you every day to make sure you were okay, which was driving your dad more and more up the wall. He was quicker to snap at everyone, especially you.

"I'm sure everything is going to be fine." Bill said with a smile, as if you were a child who needed to be reassured. "Worst comes to worst, at least we have each other."

That was another thing, Bill had been steadily trying to get closer to you. He seemed very eager to take on the 'protective older brother' role, which was a little strange to you. He often said similar things about relying on each other, but you were pretty sure he didn't include his mom or your dad in those statements.

As if summoned by your thoughts, the front door slammed open. Your dad and Mari walked in the door, arms full of groceries. Your dad was clearly in a bad mood as he slammed down the bag on the kitchen table before stomping into the living room where the two of you were sitting.

"Y/N, get up and help out a little." He snapped, ignoring the fact that you were already on the way to help. You just rolled your eyes and ignored his antagonistic comments.

Bill was on his feet in an instant, walking after you to help bring in the groceries. Then again, he was stronger than you by a bit, so you didn't question it too much. He easily hauled up a bulk pack of bottled water while you took the easier canned foods. All the while, your dad was complaining about the lines at the store.

"There was hardly anything left! No water, no food! They took everything!" He said, as if he hadn't come back with almost everything on the shopping list. "Then, of course, your mother has to call as if I'm not busy enough already!"

You just helped unpack, half listening to his rant. While you were long used to his fits of annoyance and anger, they were new to Bill, who seemed to be losing grip on his temper by the second. You could see his fists curling from the corner of your eye. His irritation only spiked as your dad kept on lecturing as if it was all your fault. By the time he finished, all the groceries were away, and Mari was pulling him out of the room to cool off. 

"He shouldn't treat you like that. No one has the right to treat you like that. That's the same way those monsters treated Danny." Bill muttered. Danny, the dead kid who was the catalyst for your meeting of Bill. Bill still hadn't fully opened up to you about them, but it seemed like he was just burying everything, so he didn't have to deal with the grief.

"I'm going out. Want to come with?" He suddenly asked. You shook your head, still a little uneasy around him. He gave you a soft smile, the anger melting off him a little before he ruffled your hair. "That's fine. I'll see you when I get back." 

With that, Bill disappeared out the door, but the feeling of uneasiness never left. You brushed off the idea that this fight may lead to something bigger because fighting was normal in families. That was a mistake.

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Rain whipped the house as the wind shook the foundation. You and Bill were huddled together in the upstairs guest room around a single battery-powered lamp. When the rain had first started, Mari had gotten a call from her mother, who lived a little bit away. There was some sort of emergency, so your dad had gone with her to check on the woman and make sure she was okay.

That had been 3 hours ago. In that time, the power had gone out, and everything had picked up. Despite it being summer, the house had gotten cold quickly, so Bill had wrapped you up in one of his sweatshirts and a blanket. 

You flinched as you watched one of the neighbors' lawn flamingos get ripped out of the ground and thrown out of view. Bill had already moved all of the supplies up to the guest room, citing the imminent flooding that was due to come. 

"You should get some sleep, Y/N." Bill said. It was getting rather late, but it was hard to sleep when it sounded like you were stuck in a wind tunnel. Nevertheless, you lay down, hoping your dad would be back when the morning came.

Only he wasn't. The rain hadn't died down at all when you next woke up. When you got up briefly to change, you saw the inch or two of water that now covered the ground floor. Still, there was no sign from him or Mari. You also hadn't heard from your mom, but considering that the power was down, the cell towers probably weren't doing too well either.

There were only so many times you could play cards with Bill before you started to get rather bored.

"When do you think they'll be back?" You wondered out loud. You and Bill were playing Go Fish for probably the twentieth time today.

"They're probably staying with grandma because she's old. I'm sure they've been trying to call us, but the cell towers are down." He answered, picking a card from his deck. "Do you have a two?"

"Go fish." You numbly answered, staring out the rain washed window. Something in your gut was screaming at you, but there was nothing you could do but wait and see what happened.

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There was nothing but the howling winds and pounding rain. At least, that's how it felt. The radio towers were still out, so it was just you and Bill. It had just been you and Bill for almost four days.

The eye of the storm had come and gone quickly, so at least you could assume it was almost over. Hopefully, it was almost over. There were only so many card games and board games to play in the house. At least you were both good on water and food since you had the rations meant for a week and a half for four people.

You hoped your dad was okay, even Mari. It felt like your whole world was being torn upside down, and you were scared. Bill's overprotectiveness seemed to be growing my the minute. He was always fussing over you and trying to keep you comfortable and warm. You had even started to let him, just to feel a little safer and grounded.

The only time you ever spoke up about it, he'd brought up Danny and how much he missed him. You gave in pretty quickly once he started tearing up, begrudgingly letting him stuff you into another one of his hoodies.

You'd begun having vivid nightmares of drowning in a flood or being swept away. They often woke you up early, and you'd read or stare out a window until Bill woke up. Then he would scold you for not waking him up or telling him about your sleeping problems.

When you woke up early on day five to non cloudy skies, you could hardly believe it. Everything was flooded with murky water outside, but you were finally seeing blue skies for the first time in days. Even in the eye of the storm, it had been cloudy.

Bill found you, maybe an hour later, staring out the window. Your eyes were shifting from the floodwaters and the floating debris to the blue sky. The storm was finally over.

"The power's not on yet, but rescue teams should be forming to help stranded people like us." Bill said. "Let's have some breakfast, yeah?"

"Okay." You said, leaving the window behind.

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Just like Bill said, a volunteer team had assembled to help those stranded. Bill packed up all the important things, and then the two of you were helped into a motorboat by a kind lady.

It was only once you'd been taken to a nearby stadium that was being used as a shelter for those displaced, did you notice the buzzing within the bag you were carrying. You had all of the phones, so they'd likely gotten a signal now that you were clear of the more destroyed areas.

"I'm gonna go grab us some warm food and drinks, yeah? Stay here for me." Bill said, ruffling your hair. You nodded, sitting on the cot you were assigned. You dug through the bag as Bill walked off, pulling out his phone.

At first, you thought it was dead, but when you held the power button, it turned on. It was locked, but you could still see the texts displayed on his lock screen.

Mom >We're done at grandma's. Heading back. 10/24. 5:36PM

>Bill, can you unlock the door? We can't find our keys and it's raining hard. 10/24. 6:05PM

>Bill, why aren't you answering your phone?! And why is the doorbell smashed on the porch?! 10/24. 6:06 >Whatever you think we did to you isn't worth this! Please, this is serious! 10/24. 6:06PM

>Is this about what happened with your step-brother?! Your father said you were fine! We had nothing to do with that! 10/24. 6:07PM >Why isn't Y/N responding to our texts?! What did you do?! 10/07. 6:07PM >Bill, please. It's freezing out here! We might die! 10/07. 6:07PM

>We're gonna try to get back to my moms. I swear to you, William, if we make it out of this, you're never allowed around Y/N again. 10/24. 6:08PM

You froze. Those texts were from the first day the hurricane made landfall. Bill never told you anything about these texts. But these were from days ago, and there were no follow-up texts. Did... did they make it?

You dug your own phone from the bag only to see no notifications. A sinking feeling began to grow in your stomach as you checked their contacts. Both Mari and your dad had been blocked. In fact, you remembered a few times when you'd lent your phone to Bill the day the hurricane hit because he claimed his was dead and he asked to look some things up about setting up the portable radio he'd gotten. 

"Oh." You turned to see Bill, holding a tray of steaming food. He looked rather unbothered that you had caught him, casually setting the tray down on the cot. He offered you one of the steaming mugs with a smile, as if nothing was wrong.

"What did you do?" You whispered in horror. When Bill eventually realized you weren't going to take the mug, he sighed, taking a sip from it himself. 

"When I was 7, my parents got divorced." He said. You were about to interrupt him to ask what that had to do with him killing your parents when he shushed you. "I stayed with my dad full time, and we moved away. A few years after that, he met his future wife."

"When we moved in together, and she brought along her son from a previous marriage. He became my little brother, we did everything together. I was 10, and he was 4 at the time. When I moved out for college, I tried to stop by as often as I could. But it clearly wasn't enough for him to talk to me." His voice dropped, deepening with rage and grief. "Everything I did was for Danny. He was my brother, and they just took him away from me."

"When I saw your father yelling at you like that, blaming you for everything, it reminded me of those bullies who hurt my brother. I refuse to lose another sibling to bullies when I can do something about it." He hissed. Your eyes widened, finally connecting the dots. How he'd known Danny, the sad looks about the case when you first met. Those dots led you to a horrifying conclusion.

"You killed them. Those bullies." You said. Bill took a few deep breaths, calming himself down before he picked up the untouched mug on the tray and pushed it into your hands. The warmth did little to bring you comfort when he smiled at you, ruffling your hair.

"I did what needed to be done. Where I failed Danny, I won't fail you. And trust me, if they somehow manage to crawl out of whatever hole they hid in to escape the hurricane, I'll make sure they never find their way out of the next one."

You stared down at the mug of hot chocolate in disbelief and horror. Bill had just confessed to killing a couple of kids and possibly your dad and his own mother. You quickly took a sip of hot chocolate to suppress whatever instinctive noise was about to escape you from the mix of fear and disbelief.

"Also, Y/N?" You looked up, finding him smiling back down at you as if you'd just had a normal conversation. "Your summers and holidays will now be spent with me instead of your father. Ah, don't protest. I'll talk to your mom about it and get everything sorted out for you. All you need to do is continue to be such an amazing little sibling, okay?"

[realmsofdreams]

broken

pairing: aemond targaryen x fem!reader

summary: you are aemond targaryen’s wife, married for love in a union that defied the cold traditions of westeros. just days after giving birth to your first child, a son named daeron, a raven arrives bearing a letter from alys rivers.

warnings: angst, themes of betrayal, postpartum vulnerability and exhaustion, heartbreak and doubt in a romantic relationship, no physical violence, but intense emotional conflict.

author notes: do you guys want a part 2? also… would you forgive him? personally, i wouldn’t, i’d take my babe and leave. but what do you think?

your body still ached from the birth, a quiet soreness that lingered beneath your skin, but there was a warmth too, a fierce love for the babe you’d brought into the world, little daeron slept in his cradle beside you, his tiny chest rising and falling with soft, shallow breaths. he was only four days old, a perfect blend of you and aemond with your gentle features and his sharp targaryen silver hair. aemond had been there, holding your hand through the long hours, whispering promises of a future for the three of you. his love had always felt like a steady flame, unyielding and true.

you were propped against the pillows, tracing daeron’s little fingers with your own, when the door opened. aemond stepped in, his long stride quieter than usual, as if he feared waking the babe.

his eyepatch was off, something he only did with you and the sapphire in its place glinted faintly.

“you should be resting,”

he said, warm voice, crossing to sit beside you on the bed. he brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender.

“i will,”

you murmured, offering a tired smile.

“he’s been fussy. i think he misses you.”

aemond’s lips quirked upward, and he leaned down to press a kiss to daeron’s forehead, then yours.

“i’ve missed you both,”

he said, settling beside you. for a moment, it was perfect, the quiet, the closeness, the family you’d dreamed of.

then came the knock. a servant entered, bowing low, a small scroll clutched in her hand.

“my prince, my lady, a raven came for you,”

she said, placing it on the table before slipping out.

you frowned, a letters for you were rare, especially now, when all of westeros knew you’d just given birth.

aemond’s brow furrowed.

“who’s it from?”

he asked, but there was a tightness in his voice, a shadow you didn’t catch at first.

“i don’t know,”

you said, reaching for it.

the wax seal was plain, unmarked, and your fingers hesitated as you broke it. the parchment unrolled, and as your eyes skimmed the words, the warmth in the room slowly drained away. your breath caught, sharp and painful, and you read it again, silently, to be sure. then, with a voice that shook despite your efforts, you read it aloud.

“to the lady targaryen, wife of aemond,

i am alys rivers, a woman of the riverlands. i write with a heavy heart, for i know the joy you must feel with your newborn child. yet i cannot keep silent. your husband and i shared a night together, months past, when he rode through my lands. he spoke of you even then, of his love for you, but the gods saw fit to leave me with a piece of him. i carry his child, soon to be born. i seek no claim on his heart, only acknowledgment of what is true. i leave my fate to you, trusting in the kindness your house is known for. may the old gods and the new watch over you and your babe.

in humility,

alys rivers”

the words heavy as a storm cloud. the parchment slipped from your hands, fluttering to the floor, and you stared at it, numb. aemond didn’t move, didn’t speak, his silence louder than any confession. you turned to him, searching his face the face you’d loved, trusted, clung to through every trial. his eye was fixed on the floor, his jaw tight, and that alone cracked something inside you.

“when?”

your voice was a whisper, fragile and raw.

“when did this happen?”

he swallowed hard, still not meeting your gaze.

“before daeron,” he said, barely audible.

“during the campaign in the riverlands. it was once. a mistake.”

a mistake. you pressed a hand to your chest, as if you could stop the ache spreading there.

“you never told me,”

you said, louder now, though your throat burned.

“i gave you everything, aemond, my heart, my trust, this child and you kept this from me?”

aemond finally looked at you, and the guilt in his eye was a blade twisting deeper.

“i didn’t want to hurt you,”

he said, reaching for your hand. you jerked it away, the motion instinctive, and his face fell.

“it was nothing, i swear it. i love you. i’ve only ever loved you.”

“then why does she write to me?”

your voice broke, tears stinging your eyes.

“why does she carry your child, aemond? how am i supposed to believe you when i’m lying here, still bleeding from giving you a son, and she’s out there with another?”

he flinched, as if your words had struck him, and maybe they had.

“i don’t know what she wants,”

he said, desperation creeping in.

“i didn’t ask for this. i didn’t—”

the room spun, the exhaustion of childbirth and the weight of this betrayal crashing over you like a wave. your family was known for kindness, for strength and you’d borne pain with grace, faced every challenge with a steady heart.

but this? this felt like a wound you couldn’t mend.

daeron stirred in his cradle, a soft whimper breaking the silence, and you moved to him instinctively, lifting him into your arms. you held him close, tears slipping down your cheeks as you looked at aemond.

“i thought we were different,” you whispered.

“i thought your love was mine alone.”

“it is,”

he said, standing now, his voice rough with emotion.

“gods, it is. i’ll write to her, send her away, anything you want.”

“what i want?” you laughed, bitter and broken.

“i wanted a husband who didn’t lie to me. i wanted to believe you when you said i was enough.”

you rocked daeron gently, his cries quieting, but your own storm raged on.

“she’s asking for my kindness, aemond. my mercy. how do i give that when i feel like i’m falling apart?”

he stepped closer, hesitant, his hand hovering near your shoulder.

“i’ll spend my life making this right,”

he said, voice cracking.

“i swear it on daeron, on you, on everything i am.”

you didn’t answer.

you couldn’t.

the letter lay on the floor, a cruel reminder of the crack in the life you’d built. your heart, so full of love for him just hours ago, now ached with doubt. you looked down at daeron, then at aemond, and the question burned in your chest.

could you forgive this? could you still believe in him?

again?

[meadowfics]

nsfw alphabet

cho hyun ju x f!reader

warnings: minors do not interact!! 18+. all smut. kinks are involved. pre-bottom and post-bottom surgery headcannons are mentioned.

aftercare

hyun ju is the most attentive woman ever!

she will run you a bath, make sure you have your favorite snack and water nearby. she knows about your body and will remind you to go pee afterwards (no risk of utis in this house!)

there are times where hyun ju can be very clingy afterwards, especially if the sex was rough.

body parts (hyun jus favorite part of hers and yours)

hyun ju’s favorite body part of herself is her hands and her boobs. 

she put a lot of money into her boobs, and they came out so perfectly. you always remind her that.

hyun ju loves how strong her hands are, she loves the manicured looks she gives herself.

the ex-military woman’s favorite body part of yours is your legs.

she is OBSESSED with your legs. 

hyun ju loves having your legs wrapped around her waist, her shoulders, across her lap, anywhere on her body.

cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

hyun ju loves the taste of you. she will push you to cum multiple times just to get more of your taste.

dirty secret

if there was a scenario where you served in the military alongside hyun ju… you were definitely her barrack bunny…

she snuck you into her bed every. single. night.

hyun ju was possessive of you, nobody was allowed to have you except for her.

experience

hyun ju did not have much experience.

the only partners she had were back during her military days, before her transition.

however, she knows what she is doing with you.

there was a bit of trial and error on both ends, but you both learned each others bodies and have grown to please each other to the maximum.

favorite position

pre bottom transition: the. fucking. mating. press.

hyun ju loves folding you in half and ramming inside of you. your noises, your sweet uncontrollable noises, almost make her animalistic in the way she pounds deep inside of your walls. 

post bottom transition: scissoring

the sensitivity down there + your pussy kissing right on hers!!?? that pushes her to the edge so quickly.

goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

sex is mostly serious with hyun-ju.

however, there have been a few times where you and hyun-ju had a good laugh over something unserious which might’ve happened. 

for example, the first time you’ve seen her naked.

your jaw dropped lightly. 

“how is that supposed to fit inside of me?” your face made hyun-ju giggle a little, reassuring you that it will fit.

hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

hyun ju is groomed.

the carpet does match the drapes (dark brown)

however, hyun ju is waxed.

intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

hyun ju is super intimate.

even if the sex is rtough, she will always say or do something which reassures you that she loves you dearly.

she praises your body, makes sure that you always finish first before her, and plays with your hair most of the time during.

jack off (masturbation headcanon)

hyun ju used to jack off all of the time in the military.

ever since she met you, she went down to doing it just once a month whenever you are at work or not around to take care of her in person.

kink (one or more of her kinks)

mommy kink. sorry NOT sorry. that woman is OBSESSED with you calling her mommy, mama, etc. one time you were in missionary below hyun ju when you accidentally called her that.

“fuck that feels so good, mama.” and that unlocked something in hyun ju. lets say you couldn’t walk properly for a week after.

auralism. sometimes she has to hold back from cumming whenever she hears the wet sounds your pussy makes with the contact of her cock (or strap if its post-bottom surgery).

somnophilia. this is on both ends, and yes there is consent always!!!!!!!

praise kink. which is connected to the auralism too^^^

location (favorite places to do the do)

all over the apartment that you and hyun ju share.

on the bed, on the couch, in the shower, in the laundry room!

motivation (what turns her on, gets her going)

praising hyun ju and basically being down horribly for her will turn your woman ONNNN!

calling her ‘mama’ will set off something in hyun-ju as well.

“you’re so pretty, mama.”

seeing you half-naked or fully naked will set hyun ju into a horny mindset as well if it is at night, and in bed together.

no (something she wouldn’t do, turn offs)

nothing to do with bodily fluids like ‘golden showers’. 

hyun ju finds that very gross.

oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

the perfect 50/50 woman!

if you are giving her head first, there better be time for her to eat you out afterwards! 

everytime hyun ju eats you out, you always cum. always!

that woman loves tongue-fucking a few orgasms out of you at a time!

pace (is she fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

hyun ju loves taking her time whenever you guys are having normal or lazy sex. 

however, do not underestimate her military strength and stamina. 

whenever you’ve been stressed or moody, she will fuck that stress out of you!

she will go super fast, at least going five rounds before you tap out.

quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

hyun ju is never opposed to quickies.

quickies only happen maybe once a week before you go to work in the morning. 

however, she would prefer moments where the both of you have more time together.

risk (is she game to experiment? does she take risks? etc.)

i do not see hyun ju being super-interested in risks.

hyun ju isn’t opposed to experimenting, but i think she would rather stick to what you both know best <3

stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

that woman could go a dozen rounds.

hyun ju’s military experience gave her stamina beyond comprehension.

sex with hyun ju lasts all night. sunset to sunrise. 

your legs and kitty are always sore afterwards :’)

toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

post bottom surgery, i can see hyun ju owning a few vibrators along with yourself. 

the both of you use them a lot.

a few straps would be bought as well.

hyun ju will use it on you and on herself.

unfair (how much they like to tease)

mama is super unfair!

through her praise, she will tease you about how much you’ve been wanting her. 

“you’ve been waiting for mama all day, have you?”

“yes mama” you pout.

volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

hyun ju LOVES noises (again, the auralism)

she encourages you to be loud. in the process, she might get loud herself.

the both of you have your own apartment with no roommates, so the both of you are vocal.

wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

whenever you have work in the morning, hyun ju lovessss engaging in her somnophilia. you give her your full consent of course. she loves waking you up by eating your pussy in bed, or entering you from the side. afterwards you go to work all happy and stress-free :D

x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

that girl dick is bigggg.

five on soft, seven on hard. 

she is a grower!

those boobs are so perfect as well, sitting in a way that makes you (playfully) jealous sometimes.

post bottom transition: hyun ju has the prettiest kitty :’)

yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

hyun ju and you have sex nearly every night.

that sex drive is highhh behind that pookie persona hyun-ju has.

you and her yearn for each other always.

zzz

hyun ju will stay up sometimes, making sure to give you (and receive) aftercare.

sometimes the both of you will stay up and watch a movie afterwards, falling asleep in bed and cuddling during that movie. 

masterlist

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Epilogue

AN: You can blame Mexico and Onyx Storm for my delay on this one. But for those who are curious, here is our sweet little epilogue for Joel and Freckles. Thank you so much to everyone who read, commented, shared, and encouraged me while writing this story. I love you, and so does Joel and Freckles. XO

Series Masterlist | My Masterlist

Five Years Later

“You wanna come,” he practically taunts, “Don’t you, sweet girl?” 

Every muscle in your body is weak, causing the leather cuffs of the St. Andrews Cross to rub at your wrists and ankles. He’s been teasing you for hours, stopping every time you’re about to shatter. 

This night has been a long while in the making. After five years with your firm you were finally given the lead on a big case; a case that your boss handed to you and said this was your chance to earn your partnership. You spent upwards of eighty to ninety hours a week preparing and Joel could not have been more perfect during that time. He’d often show up with food or coffee for you and your team of junior lawyers, interns, and paralegals. He never complained when you’d bring work home; however, every time you said something negative about yourself, Joel would mark it on the fridge. Over the three and a half weeks of prep work thirty ticks ended up on the small piece of paper that was hung with a Berkeley magnet. You didn’t have time to ask Joel what they meant, and truthfully, you didn’t really care; you trusted that whatever he planned to do with those ticks was for your own good. 

During the trial, another twelve ticks were added. When the verdict was announced and you had won your case, Joel was there in the courtroom, smiling warmly at you when you glanced back at him. When you got home that evening, after a celebratory round or two of cocktails, Joel made you kneel in front of him as he explained that each tick, all forty two of them, symbolized a denied orgasm, a punishment meant to remind you not to talk bad about things that Joel owns. Especially brilliant lawyers who win their first big case and secure themselves as partner.  

As he strapped you to the padded X shaped piece of furniture tonight, he said, ‘if you’re the sweet girl I know you to be, then you won’t whine when I stop. Instead, you’ll say “Thank you, Mister Miller” and I’ll count that as two. Forty two orgasms being denied is not going to be easy, so do yourself a favour and don’t whine; you don’t want to know what happens if you do.’

The only response to his teasing that you can muster now is a whimper and a nod. He clicks his tongue in disappointment. “Use your words, honey.”

Your voice is almost silent. “Yes, Mister Miller.”

He walks behind you, trailing the small vibrator along your skin. “Such a good girl for me tonight. Saying yes to everything. Remind me, how many orgasms have I denied you so far?”

Your pussy throbs with the deep timber of his voice, this is truly torture and your safeword is on the tip of your tongue. “Twenty one,” you mumble.

“Poor, sweet girl,” He says from behind you, leaning in closely to whisper in your ear. “Did you learn your lesson?”

“Yes, Mister Miller.” You swallow the dry lump in your throat.

“Should I let you pick how you want to come?”

He completes his circle around you and the crossing, stepping in close to you. He uses the little vibrator to gently tease your nipples. You can barely form a thought and just let a small ‘yes’ mixed with moans leave your lips as your sweat covered back arches off the padded back of the cross. The heat of Joel’s body this close makes you feel like you’re on fire. 

“Want to come on my fingers?” He asks, then easily slips three of them inside of you. Your gaze shoots to his as a strangled cry fills the room. 

“Yesyes - fuuuuck, please.” You feel your pussy tightening around his digits.

“What about my cock? You love being stuffed full of my thick cock while I strum your clit. Don’t you? My perfect little slut.” He teases you further by pumping his fingers forward once, revelling in the feel of you clenching tighter around him. He doesn’t give you a chance to respond as he continues.

“No, I know,” his fingers slip out from your pussy and you gasp, unable to protest in your weakened state. Not that you would protest; you know better than to do that, and he told you not to whine tonight. You are a good girl, you know that what your dom says is best. Plus, you need to come so badly that you think you might actually die if you don’t, and Joel is just sadistic enough to keep you like this for days. 

He gets onto his knees, his warm breath hitting your cunt as he speaks. “What if I put my lips around this swollen little clit? Huh? Suck her into my mouth and drink up every ounce of your cum?”

He uses his thumbs to pull the lips of your pussy further apart. He’s so close that your breath catches in your throat at the promise of relief. He blows cool air along your soaked pussy; you clench your molars together and focus on your breathing. You don’t come until he tells you. 

“Would you like that, my sweet girl?”

The restraints cut at your wrists when you try to push your hips to his mouth. “Yes. Yes. Please, Mister Miller.”

He stands abruptly, hand wrapping around the hair at the nape of your neck before he tugs to bring your gaze up to his. The pull of your hair relaxes the muscles of your neck and upper back and you melt into the padded cross.

His eyes darken as he asks, “You really would say yes to anything, wouldn’t you?” 

“Y-yes. I just need to come. Please.” He releases your hair, stepping back and crossing his arms. The veins on his forearms pop, the sleeves of his rolled black dress shirt tightening under his biceps. Since officially retiring, he’s had a strict exercise regime. He was sexy when you met him almost ten years ago, but like a fine wine, he gets better with each passing year.

The gravel in his voice returns, “But you’d say yes even if I told you we were done for the night and it was time to get dressed. Right?” 

Your eyes clench close, head falling back as the panic of not getting to come tonight races through your mind. You take a calming breath before whispering, “Yes, Mister Miller.” 

“Eyes on me, sweet girl.” You peel your eyes open and tilt your chin down to look at him. His hands are now buried in his pockets, and there’s a shift in how he’s looking at you, a slight softness to his dark eyes. 

“And what if I asked you to marry me?” His voice is shy and raspy.

He slowly pulls a ring out of his pocket and holds it up for you. A thin, gold band with a single, albeit very large, solitaire diamond on it sends sparkles all around the room. Tears line your lash line, mirroring his. He clears his throat softly.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, sweet girl. Listen carefully for me,” he pockets the ring and steps closely, wiping the happy tear that rolls down your cheek. The rough whorls on his thumb send goosebumps cascading down your body. “First, I’m going to make you come. Then, I’m going to untie you, get you all cleaned up, and get some sugar into you.”

You nod, leaning into his touch as cups your face. His eyes dart towards the bed as he says, “After that, we are getting to that bed so I can kiss you until neither of us can breathe.”

“And then,” he smiles sweetly, a tear rolling from the corner of his deep brown and honey flecked eye to his greying beard. “And then I’m going to ask you to marry me.”

[aliusfrater]

i was really excited to read this but it sucked i stopped ¾ of the way through lol i was hoping it'd get better or culminate to something interesting

fic so good it's triggering

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hi! Could I request a Shadow Milk Cookie x gender neutral reader x Pure Vanilla Cookie?

Poly relationship please? Fluff hcs!

So this started out a little angsty,,, but there's more fluff towards the end!

.....

At the time of your adventure to the Spire of Knowledge Deceit, you and Pure Vanilla were already together.

Despite the Dark Flour War separating you two for many years, you somehow found your way back to each other, vowing to make up for the lost time...

Now your love was being put through another rigorous test within Shadow Milk's domain.

His games, his trials, and all his attempts to sway Pure Vanilla to his side ended up revealing how lonely the Beast truly felt deep down, and seeing you both persevere hand-in-hand didn't help matters.

Of course, being sealed away in a tree for eons would do that to any normal cookie.

So you had a little bit of sympathy for him...even though you initially hated him for turning your beloved into Truthless Recluse and tormenting you and your friends like this.

But you couldn't forget Pure Vanilla's words when he sensed that droplet of darkness in his other half, his desires to have someone to relate to, and the aching loneliness inside...

The next time you saw him, it was actually you who convinced him to join the Cookie Kingdom.

Of course he was against it, thinking it's another trick, until he comes to realize some painfully obvious truths:

His spire was in ruins, he's got nowhere else to run, his minions were acting insufferable, and he still couldn't get the two of you stupid Cookies out of his goddamn head...

So he agrees, but claims it's only to satiate his boredom until his powers return.

Pure Vanilla sees that he finally reconsidered that offer of friendship he previously denied, and that's good progress.

It's not a simple transition, of course, as during the first week or so, Shadow Milk behaves like a stray dog. One that only knew pain and felt like he'd be judged (especially if the other Beasts were already there).

He snaps at you both if you catch him showing vulnerability, vowing to spread devastating rumors and lies throughout the kingdom....

But neither of you are perturbed, and slowly that wall comes down with enough time and patience.

His yearning for companionship starts to show itself more and more, in the form of little puppet shows he does depicting you three.

For the Cookie Kids, it's silly and entertaining, but you and Pure Vanilla know their real meaning.

Eventually, after having a talk with your healer bf, you two approach Shadow Milk with an offer for him to join your relationship.

At first his face is deadpan, before he howls with laughter and asks what the punchline is....only to find out you're serious.

He didn't like the idea of sharing a partner, much less with the one who has his soul jam, but once you begin showering him with attention and affection...he finds himself warming up to you surprisingly fast.

It just clicks that he didn't have to put on a show or make up lies about himself so you'd like him---he could just be, well, himself, and that was enough.

And he finally gets to be with Pure Vanilla, the only one who actually did understand him.

He still thinks you two are foolish to forgive him, considering he tried tearing apart your relationship, but you assure him that's all in the past.

He might not be entirely good, but he can always be better. And he's shown that he wants that.

Once the relationship becomes more established, you begin seeing the stark contrasts in how they each spend quality time with you alone.

You've known Pure Vanilla as a gentle soul who'd take walks through the gardens with you, have deep discussions about life and how much the kingdom has grown since you both had your memories and powers restored, care for the cream sheep and all animals who reside on the kingdom grounds...

And now you've come to know Shadow Milk as a clingy jester who drags you into (harmless) games of chess, cards, etc., convinces you to assist him in pranks, and leaves gifts from the other-realm by your nightstand (mainly plushies and other trinkets resembling himself).

While it was unusual for Black Sapphire and Candy Apple to see their master act this way...he's come to accept it quicker, seeing that his happiness is genuine, while she pouts from time to time about no longer being the "favorite", always giving you the side-eye, but you won her favor after insisting that Shadow Milk paid attention to her at least once in a while.

Eventually, you come to learn of his touch-starved nature, as he frequently shapeshifts into some fluffy animal to cuddle with you and/or Pure Vanilla (and you both know it's him 100% of the time).

He doesn't know how to ask for a hug without sounding pathetic. But you get tired of waiting.

So one day, you just drag him onto the bed for cuddles, giving him no time to disguise himself, and at first he gets upset, especially when the healer walks in and asks why he felt the need to always do that...

Until he realizes how warm and comfortable your embrace is; and with Pure Vanilla on the other side of him, his dough nearly turns to putty, and before you could let go, he clings to you both tighter.

Does he cry into your arms? Yeah. But he won't admit he's crying even if there's tearstains on your clothes and makeup running down his face.

Still, you and Pure Vanilla won't say anything about it and just let him hold you for as long as he needed, happy that he's finally willing to accept this one simple truth into his heart:

The truth that he belonged here and was meant to be with you both.

[heartzfromel]

Rio x fem!reader (fluff and/or hurt comfort plz)

not good enough || rio vidal x fem!reader

summary; you meet your love again after one hundred years

warnings; agatha all along ep 7 spoilers, canon character death, reader has a small injury, kissing, pining, reader and rio are both kinda idiots, rio and reader are both touchy w each other, main story set after first witches road trial, rio and agatha are not romantically involved

rio vidal had been the only constant friend you’d had in your whole life, but your situation was quite complicated. you were a centuries old witch and, whist technically she was too, she was also death personified, meaning she had a lot of work to do. your friend wasn’t around much, leaving you alone a lot. sometimes you wouldn’t see her for sixty or seventy years at a time. this time, it had been a lot longer than that. that fact tended to leave a pit in your stomach, especially considering your last interaction.

1924

you were sitting in your cabin, your best friend lying next to you, the pair of you giggling into the night, until you were both facing each other. it was very clear that the energy had shifted from lighthearted fun, to something else entirely. in all honesty, it sort of made you feel uneasy, but then again everything rio ever did brought up that feeling. it made most people withdraw from her company, but it only intrigued you more.

currently, her eyes were fixed on yours. you held her gaze. it was clear she was fighting with herself internally to keep her eyes off of your lips, but after a few moments of tension-filled silence, she gave in, her eyes darting to your cherry red lips for only a split second, before you licked them and her eyes darted back up to meet yours once again. it was now that you had realised the position that you had been laying in, your hand lazily on her waist whilst hers rested on top wearily. you moved your hand up, with an uncertain energy, as if one wrong move would ruin what was happening. you moved your hand up to her neck, rubbing it gently, and then up to her face as you caressed it gently. her hand has moved more confidently on to your waist, as she squeezed it lightly. you had hoped she hadn’t caught your breath hitch, but the ghost of a smirk on her face told you that she absolutely had. you could feel her breath, hot and shaky on your face. your hand moved to play with her hair, and with a final burst of confidence, you leaned in to kiss her. just as your lips met hers, you were apart again. she moved her hands from you quickly and jolted to sit up in bed. you looked at her again, but the expression on her face was not one you were familiar with.

“rio, i’m sorry-“ you began. what had you just done?

“i have to go.” she whispered, and just like that it was almost as if she were never there.

2026

it was today that your lovely acquaintance, agatha harkness, had decided to make herself your problem as she practically forced you down the witches road. you didn’t really know why you’d shown up, considering the last time you walked the road together she almost you you slashed into a million pieces, but you went along anyway. when you arrived at her extremely un-agatha like house, you were met with a ragtag group of witches and one random lady that you were sure that the rest of the coven had also noticed. unfortunately the woman had passed away during your first trial, and you were left angrier at agatha than you were before, because she could’ve got you all killed by not drinking that wine. you were ready to force it down her throat at one point.

one of the witches, a tall woman dressed head to toe in pink, had suggested summoning a green witch to the road, since they didn’t actually have one. none of you seemed against the idea, and so that’s exactly what you did. had you known what was going to happen mere moments later, you’d have an entirely different opinion.

agatha’s coven all stood still anticipating the arrival of the new green witch, you were a bit less interested, just wanting to leave, and so were not fully paying attention until a single hand shot up from under the ground. a hand that, embarrassingly, you still recognised. the pit that formed in your stomach was one you’d never felt, and it got so much worse when her full figure came into view. she hadn’t aged a day, well she had, she’s aged over a hundred years, but she still looked exactly the same as she did that night in the cabin. as she introduced herself, you hid yourself from view behind the lady dressed in pink, jen, who you’d decided was the only tolerable one here, but it was no use. she had seen you.

“y/n…” she smirked. this earned looks from the whole coven, considering her dramatic entrance.

“i have to go.”

you felt ill as you turned your heel and walked swiftly in the other direction. “maybe this is my trial?” you thought hopefully, praying that you’d turn around and the coven would all be dressed in hideous outfits that the road had picked out for them, but no, when you turned around, you were met by the hypnotic gaze of rio.

“y/n…” she began, “been a while.”

“don’t.” you snapped, “don’t even try.”

“what’s the problem?” she asked, feigning innocence.

“what’s the problem? rio its been over a hundred years.” you spat, malice dripping from your tone. she seemed to enjoy it.

“i’ve been… busy.” she replied playfully.

you didn’t respond.

carefully, she waded over to you, placing a hand on your lower back and using the other to grab your face to look at her.

not breaking eye contact, she brought her hand down to your collarbone, dragging her fingertips along a gash that you’d received from broken glass in the trial. you shuddered at the coldness of her touch. it brought you back to that night, because the only time you’d ever felt her heat up, was when your hand was on her face in the cabin.

her eyes met yours once again and she smiled gently, the same smile she’d smiled all those years ago, before leaning into you.

“rio.” you mumbled, stopping her. you looked up at her with conflicted eyes.

“come on,” she whispered, “look me in the eyes and tell me you feel nothing for me.”

“well clearly that’s not the case, rio, is it?” you spat, fighting the tears that were threatening to spill.

“so what’s the problem?” she asked, both hands now on your face.

“you shut me down the last time, remember?” you spoke, trying your best to drill into her head what she had done to you. “and then you think if you show up here a hundred years later and give me a kiss it’s all gonna be okay?”

“do you know why i left that night?” she whispered, dragging a cold hand into your hair, your eyes threatening to close at her action.

“oh, please, lady death, enlighten me! why did you leave me for a hundred years?” you asked, sarcasm lacing your tone. you caught her slight demeanor change at the use of her title, but it faded quickly.

“i was scared.”

and you couldn’t help but let yourself laugh humourlessly in her face.

“of what, rio, tell me what you were so scared of.”

“that i was’t good enough for you.” she replied, talking to the floor.

“don’t, you’ll set me off again.” wiping tears of laughter from your flushed cheeks.

she didn’t say anything.

“oh.” was all you could muster, “you’re serious?”

she could only nod.

subconsciously your hands wrapped around her waist, before they traveled up to her face.

“well you’re wrong.” you whispered, as she leaned into your touch.

“am i?” she asked, being more serious than you’d ever saw her.

“please, trust me, you’re the only one good enough for me, rio.” you replied, eyes never leaving hers.

“is that right?” she smirked, her confident demeanour reappearing.

“would i have said it if it wasn’t?” you smiled.

“so are you gonna let me kiss you now, or…” rio smirked, one hand grabbing at your waist, the other fidgeting with a strand of your hair.

“come here, you idiot.” you giggled, as you pulled her closer to you, and she grabbed your face to close the gap between you. kissing rio was a difficult feeling to describe, the best way you could would be to say that it’d be the same feeling you’d experience if you set foot in antarctica with no jacket, but it didn’t bother you, as long as you could do this again.

[rosie-posie1313]

Dr Jack Abbot Fic Recs pt 3

07/05/2025

⭒ Look Out For Her by @leo-in-the-pitt

4 years later and your almost done with residency. But it feels like your relationship with Jack may be coming to an end too. That is until you’re hurt and he has to come to your rescue, that he reveals his true feelings for you.

⭒ Until The End by @/leo-in-the-pitt

With your 2 year anniversary coming up with Dr. Jack Abbot, you’re trying to figure out his secret plans and see if you can get over the final hurdle in your relationship before it’s too late.

⭒ Wrong Name (Part 2) by @randompiecesofwriting

⭒ party for you  by @highdramas

you party a little too hard and jack takes care of you in his perfect way.

⭒ a guard dog with a death wish by @/highdramas

at a grief support group that you never wanted to attend in the first place, jack abbot finds you, and pulls you up by your– admittedly– quite sad and pathetic boot straps.

⭒ Sweetpea by @candlelitea

Working with your now bf Jack Abbot is a dream, until your former teammate Spencer ends up in your ER.

⭒ Just In Case by @kilojulietsierra

He had given Robby so much shit about Collins. “Really brother? One of your residents?” Then you had put in a request to move to the night shift and Robby had fucking signed off on it.

⭒ Young At Age, Old In Heart  by @ohtobeleah

Jack Abbots unlikely affinity for the younger PT down at the VA starts to really spiral out of control when she’s brought in during a mass casualty event.

⭒ Your Man by @thepencilnerd

⭒ When the Sun Hits by @/thepencilnerd

⭒ Bias. by @haztory

⭒ where you are. By @/haztory

The sight of you instills a relief akin to a cool splash of water on Abbot—something he notes and stores on the shelf of things to deal with later. A shelf that is starting to pile up these days with things he’s avoiding. Things that all, concerningly, relate to you.

⭒ I’m Fine by @popcornpoppypop

Callie is sick and stubborn. Jack is doing his best to get her to let him take care of her.

⭒ Broken Smile by @/popcornpoppypop

You are one of PTMC’s best ER residents, but it’s your day off. You head to Pittfest. Robby and Abbot have to pick up the pieces. Reader x platonic!Abbot and Robby

⭒ Like You by @/popcornpoppypop

You’re a single mom to an angry teen boy. Jack isn’t phased, he can handle the anger. He is there for your son, no matter what. Years later, Pittfest makes them more alike than anyone would wish.

⭒ I’m Glad You Stayed by @/popcornpoppypop

A companion piece to the Like Me Series. Matt is graduating and you and Jack are a mess. Matt has a surprise up his sleeve

⭒ They’ll Do It Because They Have To by @/popcornpoppypop

The continuation of Like You. You and Jack reckon with Matt as he starts recovery

⭒ can't pretend by @lauraneedstochill

He is puzzled with you first, then vexed, and he can’t understand his feelings. In an attempt to get to know you better (or maybe to get you out of his head), Abbot accidentally crosses the line.

⭒ PEACHY by @thecherrypittttttt

the 4 times they didn’t get caught and the 1 time they did

⭒ white mustang by @vanilleandclove

you take comfort in knowing your boyfriend knows how to de-escalate even the most traumatic and stressful situations with ease. stilettos and the emergency department during a mass casualty event are a complete no-go.

⭒ Playoffs by @/vanilleandclove

pittsburgh has a vibrant pub scene, being of true east coast fashion. when it’s playoff season for the steelers, that can only lead to bar brawls and broken tooths, most times. sometimes it’s bloody knuckles and misogynists. + as jack’s 49th birthday is around the corner, you book him a solo-vacation

⭒ carried away; by @/vanilleandclove

fourth of july always has always dampened a stain on your relationship, for the betterment of it, it helps you both understand each other a little bit differently

⭒ let the light in by @/vanilleandclove

the trials of postpartum can strain any relationship especially when your husband is rarely home from work. sometimes you wonder if you’re living the life you envisioned for yourself a decade ago

⭒ Hints by @somanyideassolittletime

4 Times Shen Hinted to Jack about you, only for you to beat him to it .

⭒ To be loved is to be changed. By @/somanyideassolittletime

3 ways you changed Jack, and one time Jack changed you.

⭒ Crumbs by @/somanyideassolittletime

⭒ Jack Abbot, who forgets that you know him better than he knows himself.  By @/somanyideassolittletime

⭒ The love he deserves by @/somanyideassolittletime

Jack finds himself unworthy, thank goodness he has you in his life.

⭒ Married life by @eden031

When Jack‘s wife is it hit by a patient a worried Jack only comes close behind.

⭒ girl!dad jack abbot headcanons by @jackabbotkisser

⭒ Off-Duty by @thesewordsareallihavetogive

Jack comes into the Pitt on his day off with no intention of working. One of his little guests has an affinity for raising his father’s blood pressure and adding to his gray hair.

⭒ Feeding the Pitt Crew by @/thesewordsareallihavetogive

⭒ Flesh Wound  by @/thesewordsareallihavetogive

Dr. Abbot’s wife’s cancels date night after suffering a kitchen mishap. In an effort to avoid adding to his stress, she takes herself–and her bloody hand–to the Pitt without telling him

⭒ the favorite by @midnghtprentiss

all the times you were everyone's favorite person and one time you were jack’s person.

⭒ mission called convincing daddy to get us what we want  by @/midnghtprentiss

⭒ Do I Divide and Pull Apart? By @silens-oro

Night shift is down an attending and Dr. Robby has volunteered you to fill the space in the interim. Dr. Abbot may or may not have made the request for you specifically.

⭒ Jack’s Morning by @wayiiseetheworld

Jack has a conversation after leaving the hospital.

⭒ Espresso by @/wayiiseetheworld

Robby's normal shift ends with Abbot's wife in the ER.

⭒ Soft by @stellamarielu

jack gets injured on his shift and you’re there to help him get stitched up, making it impossible for him to ignore the soft side you bring out in him— especially when it makes his heart rate jump alarmingly high.

⭒ on the line by @millers-girl

Jack takes a six-week placement across the country. Four specific FaceTime calls—full of banter, longing, and everything unsaid—hold you two together until he comes home.

⭒ a little sliver by @/millers-girl

the fear of being diagnosed with the very disease that took your mother's life keeps you away from the hospital – until a cut on your hand brings you in, and a certain ER cowboy keeps you coming back

⭒ Sticky Fingers, Quiet Mornings by @abbotjack

Jack Abbot was built for crisis—night shifts, trauma codes, war. But fatherhood breaks him in all the best ways. Told in twelve toddler phases.

⭒ Him figuring out you're pregnant before you even notice by abbotjack

⭒ scar tissue by @lovableapocalypse

an unexpected patient arrives in the er and turmoil arises

⭒ Jack Abbot Drabble  by @robbysreaders

⭒ ex!reader and babydaddy!jack  by @/robbysreaders

⭒ Firefighter!reader by @starkenobi

it was supposed to be just a simple rescue, but some casualties force the fire crew to make a stop at the Pitt.

⭒ Undeserving by @ofstarsandvibranium

In a tragic car accident, Jack loses his wife, who was your best friend, and you lose your husband, the father of your child. Now both of you navigate life together and co-parenting your daughter, Evelyn, while also trying to figure out your feelings for each other.

⭒ Crazy, Stupid  by @therobbycuepitt

You get injured on the job and have to pay a visit to your husband at his beloved workplace.

⭒ Boy-dad!Jack by @mercvry-glow

⭒ fan behavior by @writingsforfandoms-multi

the reader and her husband are on opposite sides during a football game

⭒ gym crush by @bitters-n-sweets

⭒ Bruises Pt 1 by @glamorizethechaos

When you find yourself in an abusive relationship, you never thought your attending Jack Abbot would become your protector and saving grace.

⭒ Bruises Pt 2  by @/glamorizethechaos

⭒ neighbour reader by @nineteenninety-six

⭒ Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby by @punkgeekcryptid

[snapscube]

I FINISHED TURNABOUT BIG TOP! Which means here is my updated autopsy report ranking for cases and characters!

Both have actually shifted around quite a bit so you may find it an interesting update. I'll explain some of my current thoughts on the new placements as well as my thoughts on 2-3 in general below a break if ur curious.

Okay so first thing let's just address the elephant in the room: We have an all new category on the character ranking!! One that I sure wish I didn't have to include but unfortunately Big Top made some... very Interesting decisions with specific characters. It would be one thing if this content was featured and then addressed, but it was particularly off-putting and frustrating to me that everything was played entirely straight?? So yeah. New lowest of the low category for a couple freaks who are actively courting a 16 year old!!!! yayyyyyy

OTHERWISE, I do have to say.... I was really pleasantly surprised at 2-3 as a case. I can say now I completely understand people having a distaste for it especially in regards to the unsavory age gaps, but literally..... almost everything else in this case was well put together and generally on-par with the quality of the rest of the series? As an overall package I actually still find Turnabout Samurai infinitely more dull. Like, maybe it's just because the lead-up to actually playing it was so uniquely frustrating for me and forcibly lowered my expectations by a ton, but there was so much good shit in Big Top. Maya, in particular, is in top form during this case. She is so fucking funny. I loved almost every word that came out of her mouth and it really solidified her top spot in the character ranking for me at present. But past that, I think the second half of this case is EXTREMELY strong compared to its opening half. I'll admit during the first trial section I was getting kinda tired with it and finding it hard to care given how much I just do not root for Max, so I had tentatively placed it at bottom of C tier. But then once von Karma arrives in the investigation section and then Acro's storyline enters the equation I really think it finds its footing. I actually found the last few scenes of the trial very emotionally effective, especially Acro's breakdown at the witness stand and mentioning how he couldn't follow through with taking his own life to escape his crime due to his desire to see his brother wake up. Like... I legitimately teared up.

And FURTHERMORE.... von Karma. Oh my god. I don't know if I'm picking up on anything here, nor do I want to know until I maybe see it for myself, but something about her conduct in the final trial really spoke to me. I feel like a surface read makes it apparent that she's just as frustrated as she is because she's losing the case to Wright again, and I do think that's a huge factor still to her reaction... but I don't know, I felt something else with her. Particularly when it came to her reaction towards Acro's attempted murder of Regina. I felt like she came across as PARTICULARLY disgusted towards that revelation and towards her own client in a way that subtly humanized her and had me just CHUCKLING AND CHORTLING in evil anticipation towards potential character arcs. I really hope I've grasped onto something here because... I love her so much. I love the idea that in spite of her reputation we're still gonna get to see this spark of humanity light up. AHHHHH.

Okay. Anyway. In summary:

I understand why people have a distaste for Big Top now, but it does not change the fact that I desperately wish I had been given the chance to experience the story myself going into it without that baggage. It genuinely did not help my experience in the slightest to just have that cloud of expectation over it and it is generally irritating that I couldn't even bring up that I was playing it without people jokingly apologizing to me or telling me that I wouldn't be able to handle it or whatever. Really not a great vibe.

As a case, it has a couple MAJOR, GLARING points of discomfort but I'm still really glad I gave it a chance and was able to find a lot of good in it anyway. It inspired me to unfortunately lower some of my other rankings because this is what I kind of consider a more middle-of-the-road quality for the series now. Solid B tier. I have played much worse.

Maya Fey is a god damn treasure.

As for some of the other character shifts, particularly in relation to some of the characters who got bumped from S to A rank, that's less because I decided I like them less now than I did when I first ranked them and more that I decided my initial interpretation of my feelings was incongruent in some cases. Like, for example I LOVE Mia I really do she's great, but in no way at this current time is she on the same level as Maya or Lana for me. So I just needed to adjust the ratios a bit.

Anyway, I'll be back eventually with posts about the next case and the last one of AA2! :3 I hear it's pretttyyy long but pretttyyy damn GOOD. Can't wait.

[thecupidwitch]

Moon Magick

What Is A Moon Magick?

In many cultures around the world, practitioners have used the position of the moon, as well as the phases of the moon in their practice. Each phase of the moon is perfect for certain types of magickal workings. Not all witches depend on the particular moon phase. Many develop their own methods and techniques through trial and error to find out what works best. Those that do use the timing of the moon do so by choosing the moon phase most conducive to their magickal workings. This gives their magickal workings some extra lunar energy boost.

Correspondences:

Associated deities: Isis, Diana, Artemis, Morrigan, Holda, Nyx, Nephtys, Sedna, Lilith, baba, Yaga, Kali, Aphrodite, Freya, Ishtr, Hathor, Selena, Oshun, Perspephone, Flora, Cerridwen, Gaia, Epona, Yemanja, Rhiannon, Khonsu, Inanna, Hecate, ...ect

Animals: owls, rabbits, wolves, deer, cats, moths, bats, spiders, raccoons, opossum, cows, frogs, dogs, crabs, whippoorwill, panther

Crystals/Stones: moonstone, selenite, obsidian, silver, mother-of-pearl, aquamarine, gold beryl, topaz, emerald, clear quartz, coral, pearls

Moon Associations: Shadow work, Protection, Meditation, Journaling, Introspection, Strength , Love, Beauty, Manifesting, To attract new things, Purification, Letting go, celebrate your accomplishments, letting go, goal setting, banishing

Plants and Herbs: vervain, moonflower, jasmine, lemon balm, cabbage, camellia, camphor, chickweed, moonwort, gardenia, grape, lemon, passion flower, turnip, potato, pea, cucumber, pear, peach, willow, poppy, mountain ash, mango, wallflower, rowan, cactus

Moon Phases

New Moon

This is the crescent Moon when see the first peak of light, this is a time of newness, the beginning of relationships, the beginning of a new venture, the energy of this phase promotes new beginnings on any level. This is the time for change and for being open to, and looking for new opportunities, tilling the soil and planting seeds actually, and the seeds of ideas.

Waxing Moon

The Moon is beginning to gain strength as it grows in size, and goes from a new to a full Moon, this is a perfect time for growth and increasing things, growth within a relationship, financial growth, a time for learning and gaining knowledge.

If someone is thinking about pregnancy, this is a time of fertility, and it is an exceptional time for communication, in a business matter, or within a relationship. This is also an auspicious time for any legal matters, especially those where finances are concerned, if a healing spell, or healing of any type is needed, this is the time.

Waxing Gibbous

During the phase of the Gibbous Waxing Moon anything to do with increase is compatible; this is a good time for minor magic as the lunar energy is waning.

Full Moon

The full Moon is the most powerful phase, this is when the Moon is seen in its glorious fullness, this is a time of enlightenment and heightened psychic awareness. It is a time when everything comes together, it is a time of ideas, also a time of commitment, to a person, idea or project. It is also a time of family, and or friends coming together, any spell is well aspected during this phase of the Moon.

Waning Gibbous

The Waning Gibbous Moon  is suitable for rituals associated with letting go, and banishing,  if it is time to clear out the old and prepare for the new, this is the Moon phase to spell craft with.

Waning Moon

As the Moon decreases in size, it goes from full to dark, and this is a time of letting go, it is also a time of completion. If you have been wanting to change something in your life, this is the perfect time.

It is also a time of ending anything that doesn’t work in your life, this may be a habit, a relationship, or paying attention to issues  associated with legal matters, this is a time to pay attention to anything that you have been procrastinating about

Moon Water

Moon water is very similar to Sun water. But rather than being charged by the sun, it’s charged by the moon. Moon water can be useful for helping boost the energy of a spell, to help an intention grow, protect and to cleanse a space.

Instructions:

Get a glass bottle

Fill it with any type of water.

Leave the bottle with water out in the moonlight for a whole night.