#it hurts to think anyone would see me as 'nauseating'

[softpine]

simsecret becoming mostly defunct is the best thing that’s ever happened to simblr

[euthymiya]

camera roll — ft. ryomen sukuna

sukuna doesn’t appreciate how often his annoying little nephew comes over and takes up your time—until you share a few pictures of you and him to little yuuji. maybe the runt’s starting to grow on him

before you read: fem reader ; non curse au/modern au ; established relationship ; uncle sukuna and nephew yuuji ; mentions of itadori jin and kaori ; mentions of reader wearing heels and being carried by sukuna ; sukuna being a terrible influence to children (and being a softie on the low)

Sukuna doesn’t like children. They’re little troublemakers. They’re nuisances. They take up space and cause chaos. They whine. They cry and kick and scream. They don’t pay bills and eat away at your wallet. They’re clingy and talk a lot. They don’t have jobs and never contribute to the economy. The list goes on.

(You like to point out this mindset is just a byproduct of his upbringing, and that he should heal. He thinks that’s a load of bullshit. He grew up just fine. He doesn’t need to heal from anything—he’s just right. Kids are weird and unsettling).

Yuuji is no exception. The kid is an irritating spawn of his brother—they even have the same smile. Too happy, too nice, too talkative, and too bubbly. So what if Yuuji is his nephew? He doesn’t have to enjoy the runt’s company just because he’s family. (You like to really put emphasis on the family part).

And you’re persistent. You invite the little runt over every chance you get. You always agree to babysitting so his brother can have his date nights and spend quality time with that equally as annoying wife of his. (It’s Jin’s fault for not thinking things through. If he just kept it in his pants, he could easily find time to have dates and spend time with his lousy wife, but no. He decided to knock up the woman and make it Sukuna’s problem too).

It’s an eyesore to say the least to walk into his living room and see a small, useless child curled up in your lap, taking his place where he should be resting his head, and giggling to yourselves.

Irritating. Nauseating. So outright infuriating.

Sukuna hates kids.

“And that’s uncle ‘Kuna and me at the beach,” you grin, “see that castle? He helped me build it. Don’t tell him I told you that, though or he’ll eat me.”

“Woah,” Yuuji gasps, staring in awe at the photo in your phone. Sukuna’s eye twitches. You promised not to tell anyone he helped you build that stupid sand castle. He just wanted you to be quiet when you kept whining for his help. “Uncle ‘Kuna’s got big muscles!”

“Yeah, he does,” you nod, grinning. You swipe through a few more photos before stopping at another one. Yuuji’s eyes bulge even wider. “See? That’s him at the gym. Sometimes I go and watch him. Doesn’t he look so strong?”

“Uh huh,” the kid nods furiously. “He’s so cool,” he adds, voice laced in admiration.

Well, at least the runt has a brain. He definitely didn’t get it from his father, but it’s there. That’s a start.

“And that’s us on our first anniversary. See how sweet your uncle is? He’s carrying me to the car because my feet were hurting.”

Sukuna rolls his eyes. He told you those shoes would hurt your feet, and then your whining would make it his problem. Evidently everyone he surrounds himself with likes to make things his issue to deal with. And he was right—you did end up whining about those damn heels. (They did make your legs look good, he’ll admit that much. But still, you didn’t need to go through the trouble of wearing them only to bugging him with your complaining. He finds your legs hot regardless of what shoes you wear).

“Uncle ‘Kuna’s so nice,” Yuuji nods, giggling before he looks up at you, poking a chubby finger into your cheek and says, “so pretty!”

“Aw Yuuji,” you grin, “aren’t you the sweetest little man?”

You lean in and press an attack of kisses to the brat’s cheeks. Sukuna crosses his arms and glares at the way the runt laughs in glee at your affection. Who does he think he is, feeling your lips on his skin?

Once you settle down, you pull him flush against your chest again, back pressed to you as an arm wraps around his tiny frame, holding him close.

“Look, this is when we went on our first vacation! See how your uncle likes to sleep on my chest? He says he hates cuddling but he’s a liar.”

“Lies are bad!” Yuuji gasps, looking up at you with wide eyes.

“Yeah,” you nod seriously, “super bad. You’ll always tell the truth right Yuuji? Don’t be like your mean uncle, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees, nodding like he means it.

If it was up to him, Sukuna would grab the kid off your lap and set him out on the streets to find his own way home. How dare the brat sit on his couch with his girlfriend and act holier than him?

And it’s not a lie. Sukuna thinks cuddling is stupid. Using your chest is a pillow isn’t cuddling, it’s getting comfortable. You’re the liar.

“And see this one? That’s us having a picnic. You know your uncle ‘Kuna surprised me with that? He can be really sweet, y’know. He just likes to pretend he’s all tough.”

Yuuji giggles again—and then his eyes land on Sukuna at the entrance of the living room, brightening at the sight of him.

Great. He’s been spotted. Just want Sukuna needed after a long day of work. More annoying people.

“It’s uncle ‘Kuna!” Yuuji points his pudgy little finger at him before waving a tiny hand. “You’re back!”

“And you’re still here,” Sukuna’s eyes narrow, “why?”

“That’s no way to greet your nephew, Sukuna,” you scold, earning an eye roll from your boyfriend.

He trudges over, (carefully) pushing Yuuji to scoot over on your lap so he can lay his head where it rightfully belongs on your legs and settle on the couch. He sighs and closes his eyes as your fingers gently weave through his hair.

“Had a long day at work, I don’t need this brat still taking up my space. Tell ‘im to pay bills if he wants to stay so bad.”

“Oh c’mon, he’s been waiting for you all day,” you grin, “haven’t you Yuuji?”

“Uh huh!” The runt nods, leaning down to hover over Sukuna’s face. He opens an eye, peering up at the kid as Yuuji pokes a finger at his cheek. “Wanna play?”

“No,” he grumbles, pretending to bite at the finger.

Yuuji shrieks, pulling it away quickly and earning a low chuckle from Sukuna while you glare.

“Hey!” You scold, “you be nice to—”

“Again! Again!” Yuuji laughs brightly, holding a finger to hover over Sukuna’s lips. You blink and so does he, staring at the child before Sukuna’s lips curl into a small, smug grin.

“If you say so, ya runt.”

He snaps at the tiny finger Yuuji holds over his lips again, this time getting in a (gentle) nibble that makes the child squeal and laugh brightly.

“Uncle ‘Kuna’s gonna eat me,” he laughs.

“S’right, I’ll eat ya like you’re dinner. So quit comin’ over, you wretched brat.”

Yuuji, as innocent and hopeful as a little child is supposed to be, takes Sukuna’s smirk as a sign his uncle is happy to play. So he crawls off your lap, plopping himself to sit on Sukuna’s chest and smile happily down at him while you coo at the sight.

“Oh my gosh, he’s too cute! Sukuna don’t even think about moving—I’m getting a picture. Jin will love it!”

“Don’t take a fuckin’ pic—”

“Do not curse in front of a child!” You follow your scolding with a smack at his head, making him grunt angrily.

“I swear if you get a damn photo of—”

Click.

The sound of your phone’s camera going off cuts him off, silencing him with a wicked glare he sends up at you from your lap. It’s not so menacing when you take in the fact that his hand has securely planted itself at the base of Yuuji’s back, keeping him from falling over.

Sukuna hates children—he reminds you of this fact constantly. He has a soft spot for his little nephew, though. You don’t point it out so he can keep his facade up for his sense of dignity, but you know the facts.

Yuuji’s favorite snacks are stocked up in the cabinets for his arrival today—and you certainly haven’t had a chance to grocery shop this week. A small, tiny little inkling tells you that your boyfriend is developing something of a soft spot for his nephew.

“Look Yuuji,” you grin at the small child, ruffling his hair as you turn your phone to face him, “it’s you and uncle ‘Kuna! Your very own picture together! Isn’t that nice?”

“Yay!” He claps, eyes crinkling excitedly as he smiles happily at the picture.

Sukuna’s eyes soften just a bit before he’s back to frowning, a grumpy crease of his forehead as he huffs.

“I’m sick of this darn brat.”

————— bonus —————

“Fuck!” Yuuji says as he drops his sippy cup.

Sukuna freezes, eyes quickly darting over to you from the sink where he’s washing the dishes. You stop, stilling where you’re clearing the table. Your hand pauses mid air from its path to pick up glass, head slowly turning to look over at the child.

“Yuuji,” you say slowly, “where did you learn that word?”

He better not—Sukuna stares holes into the kid’s head. The runt better not rat him out or he really will eat him. Maybe even do worse. He’d better keep his annoying little mouth shut before—

“Uncle ‘Kuna!” Yuuji points to Sukuna, as if he wants the man to die.

Your eyes instantly glare over at him. Sukuna tenses, clenching his jaw as he shoots a dirty look at his nephew.

“You damn snitch! They ought to teach you about tattling at that fancy day care of yours—”

“Quit yelling at him for your doing! Just you wait till he’s home,” you glower, “I’ll deal with you later.”

Sukuna scowls, returning to washing the dishes with a sulky frown on his face as you bend down and gather Yuuji into your arms.

“Is that awful man being a bad influence on you?” You coo, “he is, isn’t he? Don’t worry, I’ll teach that terrible uncle of yours a lesson, okay? But don’t use that word, Yuuji. Only non self respecting people use that language.”

Yuuji doesn’t even understand what that means, he wants to say. He holds his tongue, though, just to save himself from even a little of your wrath—but the runt is never welcome back to his home again, Sukuna thinks, grumbling to himself under his breath as you offer Yuuji the last of his ice cream.

High key I don’t know how to write children so Yuuji’s parts might be cringe but just look away OKAY

[lavandulawrites]

Cares

Yandere Kinich x reader

This idea came to me when suddenly and I just had to write it down asap. (Let me know if anyone wanna be apart of my taglist).

Synopsis: Ajaw has finally found someone he considers his friend. He is however not the only one. The normally arrogant dragon, finds it fascinating how Kinich is spiralled deep into love and obsession.

Masterlist

Warnings: written in Ajaw’s point of view, Ajaw sees reader as both a friend and a motherly figure, murder, dismembering, Kinich is both down bad and insane, Ajaw cares (?!), drugging, abduction

Word count: 1058

Ajaw found the black haired man to be extremely annoying. He rarely showed any signs of hurt by his remarks and he put him in timeout way too often. He was in other words stupid and a sorry excuse of a man. Ajaw could feel himself greying in anger at the thought of his dismissal. You however, were different. You were kind (nauseating so) and you always brought Ajaw tasty snacks (as he deserved naturally). You entertained him in various means, unlike a certain useless man.

You were the only human Ajaw tolerated. And he made it known to you. For that’s how kind the Almighty Dragonlord was. To both his dismay and his curiosity, he was not the only one who thought highly of you. Oh, far from it.

Ajaw tried to stay out of human concerns as much as possible (it was after all offensive to his greatness to be a associated with humans), but he found it fascinating how much Kinich cared for you. He would always bring you food if you had forgotten to bring any, put on sunscreen for you (Ajaw found it gross how Kinich’s face reddened at the feel of your skin, he could sometimes swear he could see him wetting his lips like a hungry dog. Disgusting), take you on picnics and buy you gifts. The great dragon never got such nice things from him, even when he had been on his best behaviour.

When Kinich had managed to persuade you to try bungee jumping with him, Ajaw had for the first time in his life not had the desire to cut the rope and let you fall straight down with a splat. It was a weird feeling.

Conflict always seemed to rise whenever you were conversing with someone who wasn’t Ajaw nor Kinich. Ajaw was only offended that you speared another human your time instead of bringing him snacks, but Kinich was seething. His jaw was clenched so hard Ajaw could almost hear his teeth breaking in half. His fist tight causing the veins on his arms to stand out like a sore thumb. He clearly always intimidated the stranger enough that he or she left in a hurry. Had Ajaw not been as strong and amazing as he was, he would himself have been frightened.

Your naivety and kindness was something that clearly troubled his servant. He always worried about you and always came up with poor excuses to see you (be it meeting you or watching from the shadows). Normally would Ajaw not help him, no he would rather have sabotaged him, but since it was you he lend him his hand. You were clearly rather weak compared to the raven haired man and himself. Shorter than Kinich and not a fighter. Which was something the hazel eyed man seemed to appreciate.

Following you around became an everyday occurrence and Ajaw for once helped Kinich. When Kinich asked him for his help to orchestra a dangerous situation where he would come in and save the day, he didn’t think twice before agreeing.

He still wanted his body, but it was no longer his main focus. It was a strange shift in his behaviour, but not unwelcome. It was nice to have a friend after all.

Months had passed and both him and Kinich had gotten closer to you. It was clear as day to Ajaw that the ancient name bearer was head over heels. Especially when he caught him sniffing some clothes he had stolen from you. Ajaw never let that go and tormented him with it whenever he saw fit.

It was a lazy sunny afternoon when Kinich came barging into their home. His eyes were blown wide in rage and his limbs shaking. Ajaw was an expert in recognising blood thirst and Kinich oozed of it.

“The fuck are you barging in for, you useless fool?!” the dragon trumped his foot angrily on the air.

“Shut up, Ajaw. I need your help.”

“Don’t talk to the Almighty Dragonlord like that!! I should teach you a lesson! And why on earth should I help you?” he crossed his arms and raised a brow.

“It’s regarding [Name]” he didn’t need to say more for Ajaw to agree to help.

The forest was thick and dark. Mist covered the ground as far as they could see. Kinich had swung his claymore without his help and already ended the puny man’s life. That was he got for being a treat to your well being he had said. Ajaw had to agree.

Kinich dragged the body through the forest creating a bloody trail behind them. The metallic scent hung heavy in the air causing Ajaw to bare his teeth. Such an awful smell.

The man was as useless in death as he was alive. Heavy he was too, judging by the laboured breathing of the normally strong man.

The body was thrown on a makeshift table of old wooden planks. Thin fingers ran over the many knifes and cleavers in the worn knife roll. It was obvious to the yellow dragon that this wasn’t the first time Kinich had dismembered someone. It was a mystery just how many he had slain in the name of protecting you.

With a giddy smile, Ajaw watched as he lifted the sharp cleaver and started working. The bald easily cut through the flesh. With furrowed brows he worked around the bones with the precision of the most talented butcher. It was an eerie sight; the black haired drenched in blood.

After about an hour or so, he was finished. “Do you know of a good place to dispose of this?” he asked the dragon.

He watched through his sunglasses of your struggle. It was fascinating how you thought you could overpower the taller man in your drugged state. Kinich was clearly irritated which made the sight even more entertaining. It had been so fast. Before you know it you were drugged by the juice Kinich had so kindly offered you and brought home to the two of them. Not that Ajaw was on to complain. He found your company enjoyable and he even cared for you.

He couldn’t wait to see how this would unfold. What would happen first? Would you accept your fate or would Kinich finally, properly snap?

Only time would tell.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

It's a bit long - maybe it a two-parter? But reader is in love with Eddie and tries to show him, sending him love notes in his locker but he thinks (hopes) they are from Chrissy so she decides to just give up, thinking he will never see her like that so she distances herself completely and he doesn't understand why - she even changes direction when they are about to run into each other in the corridor - and when he finally manages to confront her she just tells him "You won't ever love me like I love you so I am just trying to move on" and he's like "well, how do you know that, you've never given me a chance to love you, you just bailed when I didn't realize you were the one sending the notes!"

Request by @somethingvicked 💞

Angst, fluff, pining.

💞

For the last two weeks you had a secret. It was something you hadn't told anyone, not even Robin.

The note in your pocket is carefully sealed in an envelope that you are going to try and sneak in Eddie's locker.

In the last few weeks you have been leaving love notes for your long time crush Eddie Munson. You had poured your heart out in the notes, it was cathartic. A way to express your feelings that were bursting to be let out and it was nice to watch the sweet smile on Eddie's face when he read the notes.

They were all signed anonymously and you disguised your handwriting just enough so that Eddie wouldn't notice it was you. To be honest you were trying to build up the courage to confess to him.

Cautiously you look around and there is a rare occurrence where the hallway is pretty much empty so you quickly rush over to Eddie's locker and slip the note in.

Heart hammering you hurry away from the locker and feel nerves swirl in your stomach. This note was different, a lot more detailed and lovey dovey than the others, you couldn't help it. You were head over heels for Eddie and even though the notes were anonymous, it felt cathartic to say how you felt.

When Eddie finds the latest note at lunch time, the whole of Hellfire is gently teasing him. His cheeks are pink but his eyes are full of excitement, and an anxiousness to know who they are from.

"Who's going to send this doofus love notes though really?" Gareth jokes and ducks to miss the pretzel thrown at his head while laughing his head off.

Then Eddie perks up, smiles dreamily and sighs. "Hey maybe they are from Chrissy?" He looks so hopeful and the words immediately crush any thoughts that you had in which he might feel the same.

Chrissy. He wanted it to be Chrissy, of course he did. She was the sweetest and prettiest girl in Hawkins High, there was no way that Eddie was immune to her charms.

It hurt you though. All this time he talked about not conforming and yet he falls for the beauty queen. Not that you could be too mad at him, it's not like anyone could help who they fell for. You wish you could have that power, to erase these feelings you have for Eddie.

The thoughts still make you feel faintly nauseated and you get up suddenly, "Sorry guys, uh headache'' it's all you can do not to run out of the cafeteria while blinking away tears.

Thank god no one saw you crying. Then you'd really have no way to explain yourself.

That night you're laying in bed and listening to the most angsty music you can find, your thoughts racing about what happened today and stomach churning at what it meant.

You knew deep down that Eddie might not feel the same and at least that was confirmed. It was time to stop indulging in dumb fantasies, it felt like the small bit of hope you had clung onto had faded and now you had given up. Eddie was never going to see you as anything more than a friend.

Maybe it was the push you needed to move on? Or at least distance yourself a tiny bit until these feelings faded.

But how long would that take? The thought of not seeing Eddie every day is awful, you don't know what to do and the worry and despair keeps you up all night.

By the morning you feel numb but full of acceptance at what you need to do.

💌

Distancing yourself from Eddie was hard. He was so ingrained in your usual routines, you were so used to seeing him practically every day that there was this ache in your chest that he wasn't around.

It didn't help that Eddie looked at you like a lost puppy and it shook your resolve every time. You missed the guys at Hellfire too, instead of your usual spot at the table you talked to Robin or Nancy, aware of eyes on you when you didn't sit down beside Eddie.

It was a catch-22, you desperately wanted these feelings to go away so things were back to normal but you missed Eddie like crazy, it felt like a piece of you was missing.

When you saw him in the corridor today, you froze and went in the other direction but you didn't miss the look on his face when you did. It was so hurt and it crushed your heart even more.

You couldn't leave things like this, you would have to say something. Eddie must be so confused and you didn't want to hurt him. But how could you explain how you felt about him, that you're the one who sent the notes?

What if finding out how you felt ruined your friendship? What if what you were doing was ending it, honestly your mind was racing a mile a minute.

Shit you haven't sent any notes in over a week, you didn't want Eddie to get his hopes up wishing it was Chrissy only to be disappointed that it was you.

Obviously you and Eddie really need to talk. Eddie must be thinking the same thing because he shows up at your house around an hour later with a determined look in his eyes.

He's angry and you can't blame him. If the situation was reversed you would feel the same. His furious gaze softens as he takes in your tears.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" His tone is gentler than you'd expect and that makes you feel worse. God you've missed him, you've really missed him.

"I'm sorry" you murmured and made your decision to tell Eddie about the notes, hoping that he wouldn't hate you. "Eddie, I-" he speaks before you can get the words out.

"I know it's you sending the notes" oh...oh shit. You're nervous so that makes you babble and grow even more flustered because you don't know how Eddie would react.

"How?" is the last question you ask and he smiles, all dimples. The smile that you love.

"When you started avoiding me after I said I hoped the notes were from Chrissy, the look on your face...I'm not stupid sweetheart, it became pretty obvious" so much for thinking that you had covered up your feelings, you should have realised eddie would figure it out.

He could be annoyingly perceptive. "I know you don't feel the same Eddie, you're panicking now so you're basically word vomiting, "I've been trying to get over these feelings so that's why I've been distant, I'm sorry"

He frowns, "Sweetheart, I don't want you to avoid me" you bite your lip, emotions rushing to the surface. Frustrated you wipe the tears that are building in your eyes.

"I don't know what else to do Eddie! You won't ever love me like I love you so I am just trying to move on, I'm trying to do that so I don't mess up our friendship" you choke on the words and try to stop the tears that are blurring your eyes. he stares at you looking absolutely stunned.

"You love me?" his voice is so small and you swear there's a hopeful edge to it but you must just be imagining it.

"Yeah, I'm the one who's been sending the notes, but you wanted it to be Chrissy and like I said you don't love me like I love you so I need to move on" Eddie groan exasperated and runs his hand through his hair in frustration. It tugs on his unruly curls and he groans, once his hand is free, he's gesturing widely.

"Well how do you know that? You've never given me the chance to love you, you just bailed when I didn't realise you were the one sending the notes" he snaps and you're seriously frustrated.

"Because you wanted it to be Chrissy! And give you a chance to love me? You either love me or you don't Eddie. I can't just sit around on the off chance that you might feel the same way when you obviously don't"

Tears roll down your cheeks and you wipe them away shakily, you're emotionally spent and you just want to have some time for yourself.

Eddie softens and his hands are on your shoulder, soothing and tender. "You're not listening, I want a chance to love you because I am in love with you"

Oh... "You do, you reply hopeful and he nods, keeping his gaze on you. What about Chrissy?" he shakes his head and his hand moves up to caress your cheek, his gaze is soft and full of adoration.

"Just a dumb crush. I'm over her now. What I feel for you...you're all I think about sweetheart, shit I think almost losing you helped give me a uh, knock on the head" you giggle and he ducks his head looking almost shy.

"Can I kiss you?" you nod eagerly and it doesn't take long for his lips to meet yours. Eddie pulls away after a few seconds and looks completely blissed out. It's exactly how you feel. Wow.

"Shit, I am an idiot, could have been doing that for a while now if I wasn't so oblivious" you stifle a smile and he's grinning too, smiling as he kisses you again.

And again. Showing you how much he loves you.

💞💌

[ririsasy]

This scene in May December broke me because how innocent and pure Joe is, how he knows that's something wrong with his life, he's trapped but couldn't get out and he didn't want anything that happened to him to ever happen to his son. It's heartbreaking to see how young he still is.

I want to give all the award for Charles Melton portrayal of Joe, especially in this scene, when he curled up in his son’s embrace like he’s the one who’s younger than his own son because in a sense he’s, mentally he’s, that tremble in his hands as he tried to explain his thoughts, thinking that he would do something wrong to his son, gosh he’s too young to be a father, and Charles Melton just completely nailed this role with his whole mannerisms, that small broken voice when he whispered “that’s all I do”. he's helpless, he's anxious all the time, but he bottled up inside because he has no chance to open up.

The way they portrayed Joe's naivety like he's still a young 13 y.o boy trapped in time because the manipulation worked with a vulnerable boy like he was. They showed his youthful spirit still with his hobbies with the butterflies, his timid movement or the way Gracie bossed him around and he didn't even realize it, that he couldn't even be open and honest with his feeling or be validated about what he's feeling because Gracie would just spin those words around and make it look like he's the one who hurt her, twisting his words to her advantage, the abuse never actually end, even after the 24 years of marriage.

Gracie is a predator, an unapologetic manipulative woman that thinks she does nothing wrong because deep down she's just evil that way, the scene in a forest when she met a fox and she look eye to eye with that predator, I feel like she was looking at herself. The way she’s interacting with her children from the previous marriage, how cold a mother she was, she didn’t care much about anyone feeling. Or the way even her children with Joe didn’t like her that much, because they’re old enough to understand that their parents relationship is not normal at all, but they just couldn’t say anything about it because at the end of the day she is still their mother.

Also it was incredibly eerie at the contrast love letter that young Joe sent to Gracie, where it was just so innocent, no ulterior motive or whatsoever, he was just a kid, feeling safe and at peace around adult and expressing it that way to her, it wasn't wrong at all, not a sign that an adult should make a move at that! Then compare to the one that Gracie wrote to him, she understood completely the situation they're in, the way she asked him in the letter not to tell anyone about it, she's always been on the upper hand, she took advantage of Joe's vulnerability and used it to her own sick desire. It wasn't told explicitly in the movie but seriously everything just feel so nauseating to watch thinking how young he was.

Now Joe is older and you know nobody can safe him except himself, If he wanted to be saved or not, or if he'd accepted his life just as it's, he's just a victim but he told himself that he didn't want people to look at him like one. It's all in the adult hands that should be the ones who do better because they know better and put a stop to something that's morally wrong, it's the adult responsibility to give the understanding, but the problem is Gracie is not a good person at all or a misunderstood individual or anything, she did everything with full conscience and with no regret because she’s sick in the head.

Also Natalie Portman’s character, Elizabeth, what’s up with her? I feel like her interest for the project itself was so questionable, she looks like a predator herself at the end, was she having an affair with the director that wanted to produce the movie? The phone call she had with the director asking him about his wife was kinda sus, when she was looking at the tape for young joe character and asking for a sexier looking actor, 13 y.o boy? What’s up with that?? And that euphoric masturbation?? complete with a laugh she did at the shop where Joe and Gracie supposedly had their first sexual encounter together, it’s all so weird and not to mention she end up sleeping with Joe as well! She was taking advantage of him nonetheless, I know that Joe is older now and should be able to make his own decision but considering that Elizabeth’s intention was never actually genuine and lure him in, flirting with him at his workplace, it’s manipulative as hell.

The way Elizabeth keep trying to mimic Gracie’s every movements, I know it’s for the role, but everything that she does also kinda eerie in notion. Perhaps she and gracie wasn’t that much different? She just didn’t act on it? Or is she such a psychopath in away she wanted to experience all kind of peculiar side of human? Where she's just so detached on human feeling and only sees everything just as story? That’s why she wanted to be an actress because that was her motivation? Is she a case of an actor that took method acting in extreme? To the point she lose the way to connect with story in away that still has humanity in it because this is real people lives she’s adapting and not a fantasy. I really couldn’t read her true motives at the end. Perhaps there were two predators in the movie?

Over all May December is a really thought provoking film, it’s a movie I’d recommend to anyone who just love a kind of movie that makes you think about it long after you watch it. Julian Moore, Natalie Portman and Charles Melton act so brilliantly in their respective roles. I feel like Charles Melton might get his first oscar nomination for supporting actor for this role because how good he was in this. 9/10.

[songmingisthighs]

Pitiful, You're Pitiful

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ch. iv

group : ateez

pairing : aged up!wooyoung × aged up!reader

genre : angst, mature

word count : 3.9k

warning : adultery, cheating, medical condition (?), negative depiction of wooyoung

a/n : sorry it took a while but life is shit and I've been doing nothing but STRUGGLING. head so overly packed and yet thoughts were not thunken so i decide to finish this chapter. here's to torture ig. help a sister out, send tips so i can drown myself in bubble tea pls

buy me coffee ?

Never would you have expected to be in the exact same place in the exact same situation as before. Well, not the exact same per se, but you thought the same thing couldn't happen twice, you being called to the hospital that is. Apparently, your husband had another accident and since you were his dearest wife and emergency contact, the hospital called you up.

You were not spiteful nor bitter towards your husband, you never were until you found out that he was cheating on you. So the nagging thought in your head that convinced you that he was probably with his mistress when he got hurt again made you feel rather sick to your stomach. Perhaps you had been in some sort of denial while Wooyoung was recovering from his initial injury, thinking that maybe it was only a one-time thing or the cheating had stopped because you hadn't seen him doing anything shady or being secretive during his recovery. In all honesty, you begrudgingly and heartbrokenly expected him to cheat again because the access was just there even with the doubt.

The turmoil plus the morning sickness had taken a toll on you, not to mention the household chores and catering to the man who had broken your trust in him. It hadn't even occurred to you that you probably need to go see your OBGYN again to check up on the baby you had yet to mention to anyone. At this point, the question was whether you will or not. Considering the situation you were facing, the option of running away to Sweden to become a childcare professional seemed very enticing. You wouldn't have to worry about the money to take care of your child or their education, the government will provide and you can visit the original IKEA. But of course that was but a fantasy, you still have responsibilities and unlike some people, you stick to your words.

Arriving at the nurse's station in the emergency room, you huffed and took a moment to take a deep breath, suddenly feeling nauseated and lightheaded. Seeing this, one of the nurses walked around and went over to you, "Miss, are you okay? Do you need emergency care?" the care in her voice, be it due to nurse training or genuine worry made you crack a smile, "No, no, no, I'm- I'm here to see my husband, I got a call that," you cut yourself to swallow the bile that threatened to escape you, willing yourself to finish your sentence, "-That he was rushed here because he got hurt?" Although it was obvious that you were not there as a patient, the nurse shook her head and gently directed you towards the seats nearby, "You need to sit down first, miss," she stated but you shook your head, "No, no, please, I just need to see if he's okay and it's Mrs.," you clarified but did nothing to push back. She wouldn't listen and just sat you down and it was only then did you realized how the world had practically turned into a gyrosphere. "I will check on the name of your husband and I will bring you tea. You look very pale and I don't think we need both you and your husband sick today," she smiled but the words she let out only left a bitter taste in your tongue as the notion that you and Wooyoung were some type of team only made you more aware how much you were not. But you agreed and just smiled back at her, allowing her to return to the station to check on where Wooyoung was and to get you something.

Whilst waiting, you looked around as your mind wandered. For some reason your brain decided it would be a good idea to suddenly think of what's to come. Surely, Wooyoung realized that something had been going on with you which was the reason why he was suddenly being so attentive and tried to get you to speak to him which you had been so adamantly avoid. The thought of Wooyoung potentially badgering you even more because he'll be stuck in the house due to whatever condition he was in made you feel anxious. For the first time ever in your life, you realized that you both wanted your husband to be contained in your house so he would stop his affair but also resented the idea of being stuck there with him.

You stood up and started walked towards the exit, not knowing if you need a breather or to just leave the hospital and deal with Wooyoung later.

Your plan to leave the premises was halted when the curtain to one of the areas was pulled back and a very familiar face stepped out. The face you came to resent despite being fond of it in the first place, when you saw it around 3 years ago when she first came to the company.

For some reason, your legs seemed to freeze and your hands felt cold. At that moment, you truly wanted to leave, run past her and simply leave the premises and maybe just leave your husband because the conversation that happened in front of you was something you didn't want to handle.

Your eyes followed as Harin went over to the nurse's station, smiling to one of the other nurses who was sitting there. "Hi, can you please keep an eye in case the patient in bed number 4 woke up? I'm going to go get something for him to drink. Poor guy left home in a rush to meet me," she said sheepishly but there was a slight bragging undertone that made the nurse cooed slightly. "Don't you worry, Mrs Jung, I'll make sure your husband knows where you are," she smiled. Two times this had happened in the same hospital and it made you sick to your stomach when you saw her beam proudly and thank the nurse before sauntering off.

At that moment you felt numb. It wasn't like you didn't know there was an affair going on, you just never expected to have seen the relationship yourself. Have they talked about commitment? Was that why the little homewrecker thought she was or would be Wooyoung's wife? Was Wooyoung planning on leaving you all along? Had your children slipped Wooyoung's mind for some reason? If you were unsure before, the uncertainty left your body completely as you made up your mind that you had to protect your children and yourself. If Wooyoung was going to leave and start another family with some dumb 20-something with no redeeming value nor moral compass, then you're going to make sure he does it without affecting your children. As redundant as that sounded.

In a blink of an eye, you found yourself next to Wooyoung who was resting. You looked over his body and for once in your life, you suddenly didn't care that he was right there nor what his injuries might be. It didn't matter to you all of a sudden because looking at him only made you aware that he had allowed someone to touch him the way he had once promised only you would be able to. The last time he was hurt on her watch turned out was because of his bad back and with the power of cynical assumption and logical thinking, you imagine he was in some sort of sexual activity with her and this time was no better.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn't even realize that Wooyoung had opened his eyes and was staring at you from his position on the bed.

"(y/n)?" he called you, eyes soft as he gazed at the worried look on your face, mistaking it as worry over him, "When did you get here?" he asked, the tone didn't indicate any panic which could be assumed as him not wanting you to see his mistress. Perhaps he was unaware of the particular situation.

The turmoil in your head hadn't died down, it only amplified when Wooyoung talked. Your heart ached to see him looking at you so softly as he had been nothing short of detached from you for a long while. It had to go to this point for him to show you any semblance of closeness or even just a tiny showcase of care. The Wooyoung you were seeing was the Wooyoung you fell in love with, even if it's just a glimpse. The acknowledgement hurt, it hurt you so much and it hurt you deeply.

How surprised you were when your body moved to sit next to him on the bed, quietly taking in his attention on you. "I... I got a call from the hospital saying you got hurt again. Are you okay?" You could see Wooyoung trying to sit up but you held him back, shaking your head because in this position, you felt like you had the upper hand. In this situation, you felt like you could see how small he was. On the other hand, Wooyoung took this as you not wanting him to get hurt again so he laid back down and sighed, "I'm okay I guess," he shrugged. "What happened?" you couldn't help but ask, though you weren't entirely sure if you wanted to know because what if he told you that he was in the middle of doing the nasty with his side bitch and he broke his... equipment or something? "Not sure," he exhaled sharply, "I was talking one moment and when I turned around to leave, I hit my back and I just... Fell."

Lies.

Well, it was the truth from Wooyoung's side at least.

Sure, he completely skipped over the fact that he was in the middle of telling Harin that they should not meet each other for a while and it was because of her trying to stop him that he hurt his back yet again. The moment he fell down was the moment he realized he should've said that he was taking a break from her indefinitely, possibly breaking up with her completely. As if that would make things any better.

"You just... Fell?" you repeated, not sure if you were just echoing, or trying to test him and see if he told you what you thought was the truth, or if you were trying to convince yourself. But Wooyoung nodded, looking sure of his answer too. "Yeah and it hurt so much I think I passed out in the ambulance like a wimp," he chuckled to himself, not knowing that you completely agreed that he was being a wimp but for a whole other reason.

"But you know what," all of a sudden, Wooyoung slinked his hand to hold yours and your body immediately froze be it due to the heavy unsurety or shock, you weren't sure. But you were pretty sure his touch no longer had the effect it once had on you because though this felt like your old Wooyoung genuinely coming back, all you wanted to do was to push him away.

"Though I was scared, though I was in pain, all I could think about was you. I was thinking about how if I was injured again, I would burden you even more, how it would affect you and your daily function," he said, choking up slightly. You have known him long enough to know that the emotion he was showing was genuine. But all it did was piss you off.

"I'm sorry I have been such a burden to you, I've been a tool what with my work and not helping you around. These past three weeks had taught me that you have been holding us together better than I did, better than I ever did actually. And for that, I love you. I love you so much and once this is all over, I want us to return to what we were before or however way you want because you deserve it."

That was a slap to your face.

You deserve it.

It was as if he was saying that you deserved to be cheated by him.

You hadn't realized that you had shed a tear until Wooyoung tried to sit up again but he failed because his back had prevented him. So he gripped the hand in his tighter and reached a hand up to cup your face, wanting to wipe the tear away. But this time, you were the one who took his hand in yours, delightfully surprising him because he thought that you were reciprocating him.

"I..." you took a moment to clear your throat and calm yourself down, not wanting your words to fail you, "I'm so glad to hear that, Wooyoung." A huge smile broke on Wooyoung's face hearing your response to his confession. You too, had a smile on your face, but it was one of sadness, it was one of pain which Wooyoung would have noticed had it not been because he was too involved with his own feelings. "I'm so glad to know that you still cared a lot about me," you sighed.

You knew the words that were at the tip of your tongue would change everything so for the sake of the decades you spent with the man before you, you allowed yourself one final moment to take it all in again. Enjoying the reappearance of your old lover before you go back to reality, the reality he had put you in.

"I know you've been cheating on me."

In an instant, Wooyoung froze.

His smile, present, projected his internal shock and confusion.

"What?" he asked, unsure if he had heard you clearly.

The hand that held his moved to push his bangs aside, allowing him to see how eerily calm you were.

"I... I know you've been cheating on me with someone and that person is here with you. Though I'm not completely sure, I feel like you were with her when you got hurt this time and the last and she had made it a point to tell the nurses that she was your spouse," you chuckled darkly and the sound was so unfamiliar and cold that it struck fear in Wooyoung's heart. "(y/n), I-" "And, you know how she got kicked out not long after? During your first hospitalization? It was because I accidentally told the nurses that I was your wife." The more you talked, the bitter the reality became for you and yet, you can't find it in yourself to stop laughing. "I- I actually thought that you would at least have the decency to stop seeing her when you were resting these past weeks but apparently I was wrong. Just like how I was wrong about having a husband who honours our vows, right? So I'm glad that you told me that you still loved me Wooyoung, no matter how much of a bullshit it was, I'm glad you have just now realized how much I've done for you, for our children, for our family."

The mention of his kids made Wooyoung's eyes widened, thinking that maybe they knew too be it from you telling him or them seeing him with Harin themselves. To make the situation even more nerve-wracking for him, the monitor picked up on his rising heartbeat, allowing you to know just how afraid he was.

"Because as of right now, I am done. I am done being your doormat," you leaned close to him and in a flash, your eyes turned from pain to pure anger, the eyes that used to look at him with love and hope were looking at him in disgust, "As of right now, I am done being your wife," you finally spat before pushing yourself completely off him and the bed, standing up to fix your clothes, "You can go ahead and play house with that homewrecker or whichever whore you want but one thing you won't get is my children and my compassion." Instinctively, your hand fell to your stomach where your newest addition was residing as if promising it that you both would be okay despite everything. "So you take good care of yourself, Wooyoung, or you make sure whoever you choose to be with you next could take care of you, you hear me? Because hell would freeze over before I let myself serve you again."

When you turned around to leave, Wooyoung felt like his world was shaking like a massive earthquake.

"No- wait-" he tried calling for you, he tried getting up again only to wince and fail. All hopes he had that you would still come back to him was crushed when you didn't even look back at his pained cry.

His world came crumbling down when he saw you opening and closing his curtain, leaving him alone in that bed with your words weighing on him like a hundred tons of bricks. Just as he had seen the wrong he did, just as he had decided to come back, karma slapped him so hard, he was sure he wouldn't recover. So he lay there, he laid on his bed with his eyes on the ceiling and he cried silently. The tears stung his eyes but he couldn't bear to wipe them away himself, he couldn't bear to move, not when he realized how fucked he was. How stuck he was.

In a way, you were lucky to be able to leave the premises and possibly choose to just never see Wooyoung again.

Oddly, you hadn't shed a tear despite the fear, pain, sorrow, disgust, confusion, and uncertainty mixing together and creating a tornado of negativity in your head. You thought that you had to keep it all in until you didn't have to attend to your responsibilities which were your children.

Glancing at the clock, you saw that you had a good 2 hours before you had to pick Woohyun up and take him to his after-school class while Dayoung would take the bus with her friends to hakwon. Realizing the vacancy you had, you thought that you could do some good with your time. You could maybe pack your things and your children's things up so when you pick them up, you can take them straight to your parents' house. Or, since you and your children took up the majority, you could pack Wooyoung's things up, drop them at the academy and leave them for the bitty homewrecker with the note 'Have fun with my leftover, whorish bitch'. It was only at that moment did you even think of her and how the affair came to be. You were a firm believer that some feelings are just uncontrollable but ultimately, someone's actions are absolutely controllable. And that bitch and Wooyoung decided to abandon control for whatever reason there is and now they forced your children to be in a broken family. You weren't against divorce, especially if infidelity was involved, you were just against your children having to go through unimaginable pain and having to navigate through life with all sorts of uncertainty.

It astounded you that even after dropping the hammer on your husband (or is it soon-to-be-ex-husband now?), all you could care about were your children and how to help them going forward.

You were so deep in thought that you didn't realize that you were already parked in front of your house for the past 15 minutes, just glaring at the car ahead as if that car was the one who had wronged your family.

A sudden knock from the window on your side caused you to jump in surprise and of course, the official ambassador of Wooyoung's hospitalization showed up.

"Hey, don't you need to get out?" Yunho asked, raising an eyebrow and offering a smile that would've made you chuckle on a normal day. But alas, you were not in the mood.

When you finally got out of the car, you tried your best to avoid being close to Yunho or even to just see Yunho. At that moment, the grass on your lawn seemed more interesting.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, voice void of any emotions. Yunho furrowed his eyebrows and ducked, trying to find your eyes but of course, you were evading it. "Aren't you gonna look at me?" he asked but you immediately shook your head and kept your mouth shut.

There was a long pause because Yunho wanted to hear you speak but you had adamantly stuck to your ground, not wanting to say anything for absolutely no reason at all. It kind of annoyed you how Yunho was there on your most vulnerable days what with being the first to know of your awareness of your husband's infidelity and now he was probably going to be yet another first in knowing that you had just informed your husband that you basically wanted to separate from him permanently. You didn't hate Yunho as a person despite everything, you just hated his timing.

Then he surprised you yet again when he reached forward and gently took ahold of your hand, effectively causing you to look up at him though initially in annoyance but you didn't take your hand from him.

Yunho's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, struggling to find the words to use on you. Should he tell you that he had heard what you told Wooyoung at the ER? Should he tell you that he was proud that you were doing something good for yourself? What could he even say to make things better? Your marriage had just ended, there is nothing that could make that fact better because it was a devastating thing for you and you were going to have to go through all sorts of hassle and pain alone while still supporting two children. Well, three, but thankfully that little nugget of information was one that he wasn't privy to.

So rather than trying to comfort you, Yunho just smiled and nodded.

It was the availability of Yunho that broke you. One, two tears dropped down your cheek before you felt the air sucked out of you and the horrifying realization of your action was finally dropped down on you.

"Oh God," you gasped, knees buckling when you started sobbing but Yunho's reflex immediately kicked in and he pulled you into his arms, supporting your weight as you received the immense weight of reality.

Yunho didn't dare say anything, he didn't even dare to comfort you because he knew he couldn't do anything. There was nothing for him to do but to allow you to have your moment and just be there to support you because God knows without him, you wouldn't have the support you need without having to hurt not only yourself all over again, but possibly hurt more people. So at that moment, though it pained him to see such a strong person break down like that, he let things go the way they should because as hard as he was trying to keep the thought down, he knew what he was doing was a good thing.

Unfortunately, the eyes that watched you and Yunho embracing each other so freely in public- in front of the house you shared with Wooyoung, didn't think the same way. The eyes that watched you had misunderstood, thinking that it was you who was unfaithful.

A picture worth a thousand words. And how glad Dayoung was for taking two.

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[threepandas]

Bad End, Hidden Heir: Part 2

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A pounding headache and cave air, that's what I woke up too. The air was being choked, though, by familiar scents. All trying desperately to make the cold, wet, and softly echoing quiet, hospitable. It was nauseating in my current state. Weak and... drugged? Had I been drugged? I certainly hadn't been drunk.

So why did my head hurt so much?

Why did every motion, make my stomach want to rebel?

My limbs felt so WEAK. Heavy and useless. Barely budging when I try to lift them. To rub my head? Adjust the blanket? Sit up? I can't tell. Thinking... thinking is so hard past... the pounding in my head. The fog. I struggle to concentrate. God, that SMELL.

Like a perfume store combined with... with... ugh. Everything!

I could pick out individual scents I knew I liked, on their own, added to the nauseating chaos. My favorite potpourri was there. But so was the one I like for winter? Fall? That one I liked as a kid until I found Mrs. Tianna's blend...

And perfumes! Colognes! The clean products and scents I preferred the maids used. God it... it blended together like a trash heap. As though someone drove a carriage through a perfume shop at speed. Cloying and musk and spice and fruity and-!

I sucked air through my teeth, trying not to smell it, hoping to god I wouldn't TASTE it.

Finally I managed to pry my eyes open. Either hunger or thirst giving my the strength to push past the nauseating pain. I NEEDED to move. Find out what was happening. Survive.

My gaze... met the most elaborate embroidery I had ever seen. Tapestries had less art. Almost to the point of gaudiness. Possibly past it. It was...

It was everything I had ever said I liked.

Too anyone.

Puppies and flowers, history and art, books scenes and more. It kept GOING! Hideous and magnificent. Chaos. Unhinged. Flowing down from above me, along the rest of the curtains, for the canopy bed upon which I rest. So I would be surrounded by it all. Even the blanket... it was a sea of my favorite flowers, made eternal through string.

This wasn't something people just DID. Could just FIND. I could feel my panic under the muting pain and exhaustion. This was the work of YEARS. Obsessive, continuous, YEARS. Some of these threads cost more then certain house hold make in WEEKS! And for what? A secret canopy bed?!

I struggled, body barely able to obey me but trying desperately to assist. The blankets were heavy. The curtain around the bed equally so, thanks to all the embroidery. I.. I manage to roll. Squirm. Wriggle my way, undignified, to the edge. Flop over it and out from under the blanket. Too freedom.

The air is cold.

The scents WORSE out here. Now, I can see why.

It is a museum to all that I am. Every like carefully gathered in one place, every preference. Stacked and shoved together, with no regard for if they fit. Hoarded like a collection.

I can not even tell... if I am sitting, flopped down, on my favorite winter bedside carpet or just an exact copy. My entire life is shoved together and suddenly... suddenly I do not like any of these things at all. They feel dirty. Dangerous. Like they have betrayed me. I want to cry.

But I am nauseous. Hurting. Tired and thirsty. So very hungry dispite it all. I just... I just need to know what's going ON! This isn't... this isn't how the Game goes! Not for Protag-chan. Not for me! I know I changed my "character's" behavior... but...

I... I don't understand...

Try not to cry. It's... it's really hard.

I was right. I'm pretty sure this is the Caves of Spring in the northwest of the Duchy. The offical Heir has an estate near them. The stone looks like the cliffs I'd seen in passing.

Crawling is hard. My legs keep getting tangled in my fucking nightgown. My... my f.. favorite.. nightgown! I'm not gonna cry. Damn it. I'm NOT GONNA CRY. How dare he? How DARE he ruin even that? What did he DO to me!? When I was... was...

No, don't think about it!

Move.

A decanter. Needlessly pretty. I probably loved it as a girl, fresh into this world. Everything was so FANCY and I wasn't used to having money yet. Hadn't developed any real class or taste. It looks so fucking gaudy to me now. But God, it has water. Please... PLEASE let that be water!

I drag myself up on badly shaking limbs. Nothing wants to hold. Wrists buckling, knees giving, legs shaking like a new born lamb. My arms are so weak. But thirst... oh thirst is a powerful motivator.

I force myself to move.

The water is not enough. It is everything. Cold and perfect, I force myself to go slow. To not spill a single drop, as I collapse against the dresser it was placed upon. Letting my eyes explore my cage in the way my poor abused body can not.

There are thick bars buried deep into the bedrock, separating the "room" I'm in from the hall that leads away from it. And it IS a "room". Made in cruel mockery to resemble the luxury of the dukes estate. Perhaps even more aggressively decadent in certain aspects, though that isn't a good thing. It makes it border on a storage room, for how crowded with luxury it has become.

It is the reflection of an unwell mind.

And staring up at the portraits of myself I KNOW I never sat for? The countless sketches pinned up beyond the bars? I am in trouble. I... I should have run. Not sent Creep away. I should have been the one to run. Before it was too late.

I think... I think it might be too late.

Footsteps.

I want to escape. But where can I run? I am caged. I feel close and far away. My head hurts. My body hurts. Everything stinks and I am cold. Why? Why did you do this? The foot steps are calm and commanding. Even. They do not break stride.

I do not bother to watch my hunter approach me. The monster I can not escape.

I close my eyes to spare myself the pounding in my head. Drink more water.

He makes a softly dismayed sound, as though he was not the one to drug me, to leave me here. The door to my cage opens. Closes. Ah... such a heavy lock. Should I be flattered?

Crisp steps, the rustle of fabric.

"My lady, the floor is so dirty! You shouldn't be out of bed yet. I was just about to make you tea."

The AUDACITY.

Tea? TEA! Ha ha! After DRUGGING my tea? He actually expects me to accept a cup from him again?! He truely IS insane, isn't he?

I am scooped up without my consent, unable to so much a truely struggle. Placed gently on a plush chair, a tea table moved in front of me. A familiar cup. My favorite blend. Pretty little snacks laid out deftly on lovely little plates. I grit my teeth. Slowly tip my head up to glare.

He pauses when our eye meet... then shudders, some terrible look of pleasure dancing across his face.

"That's right... look at me~" he whispers, leaning entirely too close. "I'm all that you have now. So you'll HAVE too now! No more others. No more distractions. No more sending me away! People trying to get between us. Trying to take you away. I'm all that you need, My Lady. All you'll EVER need."

"Just look at ME, your loyal dog. And I'll take such good care of you. I promise~♡"

[mothtral]

sunday was chained up in the rooms he secretly kept you locked away in. the family knew of the area, of course they did, it’s where they kept the traitors and the highest ranking criminals. they thought sunday was visiting various convicts to gather more information… they weren’t aware someone innocent was hidden away like a prized jewel.

mind you, many of the older members of the family wouldn’t have mattered if you were innocent, but luckily for you, many have been trying to find you for a long time. enough there’s been missing posters of you yellowing on penacony’s streets. a beloved friend of sunday and robin, including other younger elite members of the family. it was too public, them bringing sunday to that room.

so out you went and sunday guided inside. sunday said nothing. he didn’t look at you. maybe, he knew the dream you had, one where you were running through an open field under the sun, your arms spread apart like a bird about to take flight; free.

robin was horrified and bundled you away, she ignored the flinch you gave her when she got too close, too fast. most wouldn’t think you were missing for months, perhaps even years. dressed to the nines in silk clothes and not a single scratch or bruise on your body. the chains sunday used on you were cushioned; he wanted you by his side, not a walking punching bag.

time flew past you at a nauseating speed. you never were one for rollercoasters, or the pin ball transportations in penacony. one thing is for certain, when everyone’s backs are turned, you will leave and never step foot in penacony again.

first, you must do something. sunday took your life from you. but… you never wanted to see him in your place in that little cell.

“come to gloat?” sunday said. he sounded so bitter, tired. it was almost enough for you to take a step closer, to get within range of his telepathy.

sunday… he didn’t treat you badly, per se. you clung to your childhood much like he did; you, sunday, and robin. all brought to the family at young ages, the only ones at that time that were considered outsiders back then. you gravitated to each other, your dream much like theirs as a child.

your dream… you don’t dream anymore. you haven’t for a long time.

“no,” you whispered. you hadn’t spoken a word to anyone since leaving this cell. you hadn’t spoken a word since sunday brought you to this cell. it hurt. “i wanted to say farewell.”

you have never seen sunday like that before. after the words left your mouth, his head snapped up from where he was fixated at the ground, his neck audibly cracking. before, you thought sunday’s eyes looked like the evening sky, soft and sweet, the perfect sunset. now, they looked like threshold to mania, pupils shrunken and nearly glowing; something else was watching you from his gaze.

“you—cannot—leave me,” sunday rasped out, teeth bared and spit clinging to his lips. he strained against the chains holding him back that for a moment, he looked like a beast held restrained by flimsy material it could easily break free from. distantly, you noticed, they no longer held the cushions they did for you. now, they were a sickly purple; you did not want to know why it looked like that.

“i can. i will,” you replied. you thought this should’ve been more emotional; you did not have it in you to be passionate. exhaustion clung to your limbs, but somehow you kept striving forward. maybe it was the inherent stubbornness sunday used to bemoan.

you turned around; you saw enough. it was time to go, your goal accomplished.

“what about our dream?” sunday hissed. behind you, you heard something creak, and knew you couldn’t stick around for much longer.

“it has not been our dream for a long time, sunday. i hope just that one day you realize it wasn’t your dream, as well.” you wondered if you should clarify, let sunday keep this little flicker of a flame, of hope. and you decided you would. “i know i said this was a farewell. we both know you won’t let it remain that. i await the day you find me again. maybe we can find a new dream together.”

[artdcnaldson]

i have many thoughts about sex lessons au so feel free to take what resonates and leave what doesn’t…

1) reader wearing a cross necklace

2) when pat or art do finally take their virginity, the difference in how they’d go about it. i feel like they’d both be gentle, but patrick would hurt so much more, considering he’s bigger. you’d definitely bleed for him and that would weirdly turn him on

3) art going through their phone/things and seeing nudes they’ve taken of themselves. clearly awkward and unsent, but…

GODDDDDDDDDD all of this is so 🥰

But number 3 is sticking w me <3

He’s borrowing your laptop bc his has a virus (he blames Patrick, ofc) and you tell him you can borrow his!!

He’s working on a presentation or something, downloads some pictures online to paste into his PowerPoint when he notices. Something. In the pictures folder in your documents. He thinks it’s porn at first, and his curiosity gets the best of him, but he clicks and his mouth goes dry because that’s *you*.

You’re laid flat on your bed, one hand up snapping the photo, the other grabs your tit. He swallows, keeps tabbing through. They’re kind of sweet, actually. Some where you have your panties on still, slipping your manicured fingers beneath the waistband. Others where you’re sitting back on your heels in front of the mirror, thighs parted slightly so he can see your cute little pussy :((

His head is spinning, he feels like all the blood is rushing south. He feels like a horrible person when he starts jerking off to them. It feels like he’s betraying you somehow when he cums into his own fist, wishing it was inside you instead. And he kind of is betraying your trust— you’d die if you knew he saw those.

But he also feels jealous. Who were you taking them for?? What asshole deserves to see you like that? He does, obviously. Because he cares about you, he loves you, you’ve always been one of his best friends. He wouldn’t even care if they were for Patrick, or Tashi. But the thought of you taking those for anyone else is nauseating.

He can’t look at you for a few days, feels too guilty and that guilt mingles with how jealous he is and it just feels so gross. Until he gets an email you sent to him and Patrick asking for advice about taking sexy pictures :(( you attach the pictures Art had already jerked off to and you ask if these are good enough, or if they could help you take better ones. You’re not sending them to anyone, you just want to look pretty is all.

He and Patrick both jump at the opportunity to have you “model” for them.

[videovamptramp]

holding on too tight (just right)

// wednesday ironically loves affection… as long as it’s from you //

warnings: insecure!reader, insecure!wednesday, a bit of angst but mostly fluff, you’re both oblivious idiots in love, wednesday is a softy for you <3

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

wednesday addams, for as long as she can remember has been completely and utterly disgusted by the mere thought of love. there was nothing more repulsing than the idea of someone kissing her. swabbing spit with someone who’s grossly in love with her. whenever she would see her parents exchange different forms of love she’d have to physically hold herself back from gagging. it wasn’t just because they were her parents, really. she felt the same way when she saw a random couple on the street, or at school. wednesday didn’t believe in love, she felt as though everyone who was overly in love with their significant other was dramatizing their feelings, or just pretending. there’s no way anyone could feel that much.

well, that’s what she used to think… until she met you. when wednesday first met you, she hated you. you were all smiles, and dimples. it was disgusting the way you’d light up like a christmas tree whenever you saw her or she responded to you. the way you laughed made her stomach coil. not to mention how revealing your outfits got towards the hotter seasons. wednesday hated the way her eyes would migrate towards you whenever she’d walk into a room you were in. she didn’t want to think about your eyes or how they changed in color depending on the lighting. so she ignored it for as long as she could.

she ignored your longing looks, and the way she’d see your signature doodled next to her last name on your notebook, whenever she’d make the mistake of taking a peak at what you were smiling at. she pretended as if her stomach didn’t flutter in a nauseating way at the thought of your name hyphenated with hers. it even got so bad that wednesday tried to ignore your existence all together, but that wasn’t very effective. instead of your smile, she saw your eyes full of hurt and even saw you tear up when you realized she was ignoring you. she caved and spoke to you the next period. wednesday didn’t understand why the sight of you nearly crying, especially because of her, made her incredibly uncomfortable. it was a feeling she’s never felt before.

“… and then i told him to fuck off! he was only being a jerk because i totally rejected him last fall. then sabrina told me—“ you cut yourself off when you see wednesday staring at you with a blank expression. you assume she’s bored and irritated, causing you to blush in embarrassment, “sorry wen, i got carried away talking… i know i talk too much.” you tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear, and she doesn’t look away from you as your gaze shyly makes it way down to the grass you’re both sitting on. “if i didn’t want to listen to your pointless rambling i would have intervened and said so.” she declares simply, and your eyes widen slightly, as you look at her with pure glee. god that look on your face makes the corner of her lips tug upwards, and oh no, wednesday addams is smiling softly.

the smile is faint and barely visible, but it’s there. “you’re so sweet, wednesday. you always make me feel so special!” you exclaim, practically gushing as you pull her in for a tight hug. wednesday’s little cold heart swells a few sizes at the action. she hates affection or any sort of physical touch, but this… this is nice. wednesday doesn’t even threaten you and after a few seconds you pull away, a rosy pink blush on your nose and cheeks. “i’m sorry… i got carried away again.” you apologize, and her tenebrous orbs stare into yours. “do it again.” she demands and you look at her as if she just said the most absurd thing on the planet.

though, you don’t deny her request, and you cautiously wrap your arms around her, holding her close. wednesday hugs you back, and your heart nearly stops beating. “thank you.” you blabber out loud, and she pulls away, “why are you thanking me?” she questions uncertainly, and you meet her eyes with a dopey grin on your lips. “because you just let me hug you! twice! i know you have a rule about physical touch or affection, but i… i really like it. especially when i care about someone. so thank you for letting me hug you.” your words of innocence make wednesday feel as though her heart is being squeezed so tightly it might pop. “my rule does not apply to you. you are the only exception.” the words come out of her mouth before she can think twice, and though they surprise her, she doesn’t take them back.

how could she? you were now staring at her with stars in your eyes and your smile caused that queasy feeling to set back in at the pit of her belly.

after that, you find every and any excuse to touch wednesday. you hold her hand whenever you’re sitting beside her in class or lunch, and in the hallways. you lay you head in her lap and will reach for her wrist, moving it onto your head and demanding she play with your hair. you play with her fingers whenever you’re speaking to her in the halls (it’s nearly impossible to keep her concentration when you do that). you fix her bangs for her whenever the wind messes them up, and you even took what she said as an open invitation to cuddle with her during your guys movie nights.

wednesday is very surprised to find out she doesn’t hate physical affection coming from you. every little touch burns wednesday’s skin in the best way, and she finds herself yearning for your touch whenever she doesn’t receive it. which is why the last week has confused and upset her deeply. it started after she walked you to class last week, as she always does.

“see you after class, wen!” you lean in and kiss her cheek, causing her to force herself to grimace. she still has an act to put on at school after all. “oh wait!” you exclaim as you reach for her wrist and pull her back in for a hug. “good luck on your botany exam!” you cheerfully tell your girlfriend before pulling away and making your way into class where yoko is flashing you a look. “what?” you ask uncertainly, and the vampire raises her brows. “aren’t you afraid she’s going to snap one day because of all the dramatized affection? i mean, she is wednesday addams.” yoko points out, and you frown as you take a seat beside her. “she’s never been bothered by it before…” you trail off.

a wave of insecurity washes over you, “do you think i should stop? i mean, you’ve known her longer…” your voice is laced with vulnerability. “i mean, i would definitely reel it back a bit because she’s wednesday.” yoko explains as if that’s explanation enough, but you don’t know wednesday like me, your mind screams but you only nod. “yeah, she might be tired of it.” you mumble, your cheerful mood suddenly gone. could wednesday really be tired of your affection? you remember the way she grimaced in the hall after you kissed her on the cheek. you wonder if that was for show or because she genuinely didn’t like affection. wednesday wouldn’t force herself to endure your affections simply because it makes you happy… right?

suddenly you’re overthinking everything, and you can’t help but let your thoughts run wild. you can’t even concentrate in class and when the bell rings, you stand up and gather your things; stuffing them into your backpack before leaving the room. as soon as you exit out of the classroom, there’s wednesday with that blank look on her face waiting for you. your heart flutters every time she comes and picks you up, and walks you to each of your classes. though, you physically dim when you remember what yoko said about wednesday growing tired of the affection. the last thing you wanted to happen was for her to grow tired of you and the relationship.

wednesday notices something’s wrong right away, as soon as you see her your eyes usually light up like a street lamp every night on routine. “hey wen.” you greet her with a smile. “how was your exam?” you ask as you begin walking. wednesday looks down at her empty hand that you usually take, and she tries not to frown. “fine. easier than i expected, perhaps we went a little too overboard with the studying.” she tells you and you giggle. “yes, well, you had three different study plans ready. at least you’re always prepared.” you tease and she tries not to think about the way you aren’t holding her hand or arm; the only form of affection was when your arms brushed together as you two walked through the crowded hallway.

“how was gorgon anatomy?” she asks, trying to figure out why you’re acting stranger than usual. “fine!! boring.” you answer too quickly, and wednesday turns her head to look at you. you were walking with your head high and eyes forward. as if you were trying not to look at her at all. wednesday can see on your face clear as day that something is wrong. before she can question you anymore, you both arrive in front of your werewolf reproduction class. “i’ll see you after class?” you ask hopefully, and she rolls her eyes. “you’ll see me after every class.” she states, still not understanding why you ask her every time, if you know she’ll be here like clock work. you smile at her response, blushing. “okay. bye wen, try not to kill bianca during fencing lessons.” you half joke before staring at her with a longing look and rushing inside.

wednesday blinks a few times, frozen in place. you always kiss her before you two part. every single time, even when she was just going to stand in a different line, you were placing a sweet kiss somewhere on her face. the sinking feeling in her stomach is unfamiliar and uncomfortable. she clenches her fists as she walks away. suddenly she’s angry at herself; what did she do? had she said something? or did she do something that upset you? is this one of those things where she accidentally did the wrong thing and hurt your feelings? she’s hurt them many times on accident before, you were so insufferably sensitive. yet, wednesday found that was one of the many things she loves about you.

she tries not to think about how strange you were before class, but she ends up taking out her frustrations on bianca during fencing lessons.

wednesday tried to assure herself that you would be fine by the end of the day. your mood changed very quickly when you were upset. you could never be sad or angry for too long and wednesday ironically loved that about you as well. but that was last week, and you still have barely touched her. wednesday didn’t think it was possible to need physical contact, but god she does. she craves your touch every time you’re near, even when you’re not, she still wishes you were so you could kiss, caress, and even hold her. but ever since last week your touches have been minimal.

you don’t hold her hand in the halls anymore, nor do you kiss her cheek at any given chance. sometimes you’ll slip and reach for her hand during movie night, but quickly let go when you remember what yoko said. you had somehow allowed that little nagging voice in your head to convince you that wednesday was trying to preserve your feelings every time you touched her. you’d let that mean conscious of yours allow you to believe that wednesday secretly disliked all of your hugs, kisses, and loving touches.

today is movie night, and wednesday is adamant on making things return to normal. she hates that insecure feeling she’s had for the last six days. that pestering emotion deeply rooted inside of her, whispering over and over that you’re losing interest in her. that you’re craving someone different; perhaps someone more full of joy, and like you. someone who isn’t allergic to color, and who has a kind smile. maybe that boy who’s always smiling at you in the ice cream place in the mall. or the girl from the shoe store who remembers you and your shoe size, she always compliments your jeans. it makes wednesday’s stomach burn.

“i brought ven helsing and the house at the end of the street. can we please watch the scary one first this time, wen? i had nightmares after last weeks.” you flash her puppy eyes as soon as you stroll into her shared room, the movies in your arms along with the snacks. you have black liquorish, milk duds, cherry coke, a big of chips, and mini kit-kat’s. wednesday knows the black liquorish is for her, and she can’t help but let her heart lurch at the sight of you. “we can watch whatever one you’d like first, cara mia.” she tells you in that tone she solely reserves for you. she makes your stomach fill with butterflies. you walk over in her direction; she’s already sitting on her bed. you kiss the top of her head; you can smell her shampoo. you let all the snacks go at once, letting them fall onto her bed.

the kiss on her head wasn’t enough to fill that hole inside of her. she desperately needs you to hold her before she falls apart. she feels stupid for the lump in her throat as she watches you walk over towards the dvd player and television. you pop the movie in and start it up, turning around and smirking at her. she keeps a straight face, trying not to show you how close she is to breaking down. “lights off?” you ask with a cute little grin, and she nods, not trusting her voice. you turn the lights off and join her in her bed. you keep a short space between you both and the small distance pains her deeply.

she tries to focus on the movie, she really does. but every time she does, her eyes seem to migrate to you like magnates. you look scared and you jump every time a scary scene unfolds on the screen. she wants to hold you, but she’s afraid you’ll reject her. she’s afraid she won’t know what to do. she’s afraid she’ll be awkward. god, why is she so afraid of everything when it comes to you? she’s wednesday addams, she isn’t afraid of ghouls, monsters, or even murders, yet she’s afraid of messing everything up with you. losing you would be the greatest misfortune, and for her to lose you simply because she’s herself… that’s enough to make even the strongest person hurt.

you forget about everything for a moment, the peace that comes with being by wednesday’s side makes every problem and negative thought go away for awhile. you lean in, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your head on her shoulder. you forget about what yoko said for all about two minutes before abruptly pulling away, as if you’re physically trying not to touch her. her throat aches as she swallows thickly and she tenses up, there’s a few seconds of silence that tick by, before she asks the question that’s been badgering her mind this entire week.

“are you tired of me?” wednesday asks quietly, in a voice so low, if you weren’t sitting so close you wouldn’t have heard it. you reach for the remote and pause the movie quickly, turning to look at her with a look of shock, “what?” you ask her, making sure you heard correctly.

wednesday is staring at her lap, refusing to meet your gaze. “i’m aware i’m not the most conventional girlfriend… i do not know a lot about relationships. i hurt you without trying, and i never say the right thing. if i upset you, or did something it wasn’t my intention.” she goes on, and you only grow even make confused. “wednesday, what are you talking about? i’m confused as to where this is coming from. you’re a wonderful girlfriend, and frankly, i don’t enjoy it when you talk about yourself that way.” you tell her and she finally looks at you. the look of hurt in her dark eyes is as clear as water. “then why have you been different? you don’t hold my hand in the halls anymore, or kiss me— you just jumped away from me after a minute of cuddling. i thought you said you loved physical affection when it came to the people you care about… do you not care about me anymore?” she asks, and for the first time since you’ve known wednesday, you can hear the vulnerability in her voice.

your heart aches in your chest, and your eyes soften. “if you’ve grown tired of me just tell me what it is i did. i’ll fix it.” she sounds so adamant and it breaks your heart that she would even consider changing anything about her wonderful self. you immediately reach out and cup her cheek with one hand, she nearly melts into your touch. “oh wednesday, i’m so sorry. i thought you were tired of all my affection… i thought i was too clingy.” you glance away shamefully as you admit this, and her eyes nearly widen. “i would never ask you to change anything about yourself, wen, and i could never grow tired of you. i don’t ever want to hear you talk about yourself that way. you’re far too intelligent and phenomenal for that. got it?” you ask, and she doesn’t respond.

you kiss her nose before looking into her eyes, “got it??” you ask again and she nods. “please don’t feel as though you’re too clingy. i… i enjoy your forms affection very much.” she confesses, and you can see a cute crimson blush coating her cheeks. your heart skips a beat, “you do?” you question in pure shock. “i do. i’ve never been one to enjoy those gross things… but with you it’s different. you’re my exception.” she states affirmatively, and now it’s your turn to blush. “you always make me feel so special.” you reveal, your face hot and your cheeks pink. “you are special to me.” she says bluntly, and your eyes are suddenly big and childlike, staring at her as if she put stars in the sky.

“oh wednesday!” you gush as you lean in and hug her tightly. she hugs you back, and when you try to pull away after a minute, her hold on you tightens. “let me hold you a little bit longer. please.” she practically begs, and your entire body goes warm. “we can cuddle and finish the movie, silly.” you remind her and she hesitantly lets up, allowing you to get into a comfortable position. “c’mere, i’ll be the big spoon this time!“ you sound so excited she doesn’t dare disagree. “if you tell anyone i’ll deny it.” she warns, before crawling into your waiting arms.

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 44

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 41, part 42, part 43

Wayne’s getting really tired of being woken up this way. He thought choosing the room over Eddie’s would be a good idea. Even if it was close enough to the kitchen that he can hear the cabinets close and the dishes rattle. That he could deal with. He was used to living with thin walls.

What he wasn’t used to was living with this many fights that didn’t directly involve him. It’s nauseating. They do it repeatedly, never getting tired of it. Fighting over everything possible, finding something new every time one of them walks into the room.

He doesn’t know what to do about it. He doesn’t know how to get them to stop. It hurts because he knows why they’re doing it. It’s so easy to force the anger out at someone who’s willing to take it. Hurting themselves more in the process without realizing.

It’s just a horrible endless loop that’s haunted them for weeks. It needs to stop.

Wayne makes his way downstairs, hearing clips of the argument as he walks to the kitchen. It keeps jumping from topic to topic. Insults flying with no rhyme or reason. Only meant to hurt.

“Maybe if you stopped moping in your room and actually tried to get better, you wouldn’t be in here yelling at me,” Steve yells.

“Well maybe I would if you actually went out and tried to do something with your life. That way you wouldn’t smother me.”

Steve huffs. “Back to this really? You need to get some new material, Munson.”

“And you need to get some new moves. Since the old ones don’t seem to be working anymore. Nancy’s here all the time and hasn’t fallen for a single one of them,” Eddie snarls.

“I already told you, she’s not interested anymore. I’m not—”

“Clearly,” Eddie interrupts. Finding the strength to stand up. “All that work for nothing. She doesn’t want you anymore.”

Steve starts to deflate, the fight waning. Eddie hitting the nerve he wanted. Waiting for Steve to hammer the final nail in the coffin before storming out and leaving. Making it so Eddie is the one that’s most hurt. So he isn’t in the wrong.

But Steve doesn’t say anything. Wayne can see the tears start to build in his eyes. The way his body shuts down.

It’s finally going too far.

Eddie doesn’t see the signs, seeing Steve’s defeat as a victory. One that he doesn’t want, so he continues to bite. “I think I’ve finally figured you out Harrington. Big house, big personality. It’s a call for help really. Trying to make it seem like you have everything, when in reality, you have no one to share it with. You overcompensate to hide the fact that you can never make anyone stay.”

Wayne’s jaw clenches. His fist tightens. It was too far.

Steve laughs, voice wet. “I didn’t mind you fighting with me because I knew why you were doing it,” he says with such pain it stings more than any insult they’ve thrown. “But sometimes, Eddie, you’re just mean.”

He leaves the room. Not going to outside to clear his head. Not leaving in a huff. Just a sad walk with his arms crossed, and eyes spilling over with tears. Up to his room, locking himself away.

“You happy now?” Wayne spits. Tired of this. Tired of himself letting it get this far. “You finally got what you wanted?”

Eddie’s legs shake as he sits back on the stool. His face contorting with anger and pain. “I don’t want to hear this right now.”

“Well, that’s too bad.” Wayne moves to block Eddie’s path to his room. “You don’t get to run away this time. Not when you’ve been doing nothing but hurting yourself and everyone around you. I let you do it for longer than I should.”

“You let me,” the anger in Eddie’s voice returns. “You can’t control me.”

“No, I can’t. But I can call you out when your bullshit anger is actively hurting the people around you. I can’t make you stop, but I can try to.”

Eddie forces himself to stand. A breath getting sucked in through his teeth as he tries to walk away. “I’m the one who’s had my life ruined. I deserve to be angry.”

Wayne lets him push past him, knowing that if he doesn’t, Eddie might fall. But he doesn’t let him get away so easily. He’s following after every step Eddie takes.

“You do deserve to be angry. I’m angry too. I see you suffering, and it kills me. It kills me to know that you will never live life the way you used to. But you know what I’m not doing, making everyone else’s lives miserable because of it.”

Eddie tries to close and lock the door before Wayne can get in. It doesn’t work. He’s not letting Eddie run away from it this time.

“Wayne,” Eddie almost pleads. The anger dissipating into the pain that caused it.

“No, you need to hear this. That boy,” Wayne points in the direction of Steve’s room, “let us stay in his home for free. He’s the reason we aren’t homeless right now. Not because he pities us, or because he’s lonely as hell, but because he cares about you. He has shown that a million times over. He lets you scream and taunt and be just outright fucking cruel because he knows that you don’t mean it. He knows that he can take it. But you went way too far today.”

Eddie’s legs give out as he tries to on his bed, making him fall the rest of the way. Wayne would go over to help, but he’s too caught up in his anger right now. He’s not sure Eddie would let him anyway. With the way this has been going.

“You’re hurting,” Wayne continues, forcing his voice to soften. “We know that. It’s why we’ve let you do this. But you can’t keep sulking in your room forever. Taking out this anger that you have out on us. Be angry. Hell, I am too. But you don’t get to hurt people just because you’re in pain.”

A sob breaks out of Eddie’s chest. His whole body shakes as he curls up in his bed. “I just want to be normal again.”

Wayne sits next to him. A hand reaching out to comfort him. The words starting to get clogged in his throat. “I know you do. I do too.”

“Every day I wake up and hope that this is a nightmare. That I won’t wake up in pain. But it just keeps getting worse. I don’t know how to live like this.”

“You learn how to. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but it’s true. It sucks, it really fucking sucks. But each time you get up is a day that you keep living. That’s how I like to think about it.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Maybe for you. I sometimes wonder if it would have been better if I died that day. I would be dead, but you could remember me as I was, not as I am. Weak and helpless.”

“No,” Wayne insists. “No, I don’t think that. When I look at you, I see the strongest person I know.”

“I don’t feel very strong.”

“I don’t think I would in your situation either. But I think you’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

Eddie puts his chin on his knee. “You really think I can just get used to this? Just go and live a life where I’m in pain. Where I can barely walk on my own sometimes.”

“You’re not the first person to go through something like this and you won’t be the last. Not all of them had that determination that you got. I am certain that you will find a way to keep going, you always do.”

He lets out a wet laugh. Hands coming up to wipe his cheeks. “I really fucked this all up, didn’t I?”

“That I’m not sure of. I think that’s something you got to figure out yourself. But I have my hopes.”

“You really think he cares that much about me?” Eddie worries at his lip.

Wayne sighs. “You must think I’m stupider than I am. I can see the way that boy looks at you. He’s not trying to hide it at all.”

“I know,” he admits. Voice sounding hollow. “It scares me. He barely knows me. One day he’s going to look at me and realize that it’s not worth it. See everything that’s wrong with me and leave.”

“Maybe. But I think you’re not giving him enough credit. Not giving yourself enough credit. How are you going to know what will happen if you don’t even try?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “You annoy me so much sometimes you know that?”

“The feeling’s mutual.”

The room falls silent. Becoming calm again.

“You better apologize to him.”

“I will. Just going to give him some space first.”

Wayne nods. Standing up. “Good.”

Later, when he’s getting ready to go to work, he sees Eddie walk out to the backyard and sit next to Steve by the pool. They’re talking, shoulders losing their tension as the playfulness returns. Eddie was right, whatever that is going to be is scary. But Wayne has some hopes that he’s keeping close to his chest.

note: yes, you will see that pool scene. And a few others scenes that just happen between Steve and Eddie. The last two chapters will be the epilogue, one from each of their perspectives. Speaking of, we're getting close to the end (I say that like this won't still be posted for months). This is the second to last Wayne pov chapter. There will be 16 chapters in total (64 parts), this is chapter 11 right now. Shout out to everyone who's followed this so far, knowing you love this story as much as I do really keeps me motivated to keep it going. I see every reply, reblog, and like, and it makes me smile.

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[yallemagne]

Every time I see someone say that Remy was a terrible man whore in TAS and so he has no right to feel hurt when Rogue nearly leaves him in '97 I'm like... when? With whom?

Like?? There was that one time that he almost got married, but he was under duress. Not only was Bella Donna threatening to kill his brother, she put some control ring on him. That's an abusive situation! The only other case I think you could argue (and you would be wrong to) is that one time? On Asteroid M? When Rogue came in to save Gambit and said "of course you'd be running with another woman!" because... he was literally running down a hall with Amelia because they had teamed up to take down Cortez. Nothing romantic there. Rogue was teasing.

Am I just stupid? Am I just bad at reading flirtation? Because, other than Rogue, he doesn't flirt much with other women. I mean... he and Logan have some homoerotic back-and-forths. Is that it? Is Wolverine the Other Woman?

Okay, I just remembered: he did flirt once with a shopkeeper in the first episode, so I suppose he has had more explicitly flirtatious interactions, and I just didn't note them because they never had plot relevance, but is that any different from Rogue playfully flirting with other men? 'Cuz she does! She flirts a lot, but it's not meant to be taken seriously. Rogue just has a flirtatious personality, as does Remy.

I think a few instances of flirting with other people from a couple who both have flirtatious personalities is NOT on the same level as Rogue considering leaving Remy to be Magneto's queen. I understand why she considered it! I fully understand the motivation behind it! I hold no grudge against her! ...I did cheer when she ultimately decided not to.

Some playful flirting that's not meant to go anywhere isn't the same as straight-up leaving. Which Rogue has done once before! In Love In Vain, the Brood uses her childhood sweetheart to lure her in. She wanted to run away with Cody in that episode! Her reason? She tells Remy when he's trying to take her on a date to cheer her up that even a swamp rat deserves a girl he can kiss.

I'm not saying Rogue nearly leaving twice makes her a bad person. She's had a shitty past, and it's easier to fall in with people from that past than to let herself be happy with a new man who is open and honest (and kinda obnoxious) about how head-over-heels he is for her. The vilification of Rogue by some people in the fandom is really nauseating and clearly motivated by misogyny, but the response to it being "actually Gambit is a terrible two-timing whore, so good riddance" is no better. You're acting the damn same.

And like the same people who think Gambit is a terrible partner to Rogue also say "oh, Rogue and Gambit were NEVER together, so Rogue wasn't "cheating" with Magneto" at varying degrees like pointing out they were never Official (true) to claiming Rogue never reciprocated Gambit's feelings (blatantly false)... then how are you saying Gambit is a cheater?

I just think about this because something that has been a breath of fresh air for me about this ship that they haven't had a lot of infidelity scares? It would be such easy drama to have Remy flirt with someone else and Rogue beat the shit out of him for it, but that never happened in TAS or '97. So, I don't understand why people insist that is their dynamic.

If anyone tries to cite comic instances - leave. That obviously does not apply here, do not be purposely obtuse.

[xf-cases-solved]

i made more x-files words with my brain, wrote them down, and then put them on the internet for you to read and process into meaning with your own brain, if you're so inclined. cancer arc angst for those who are always sluts for s4 like me

click on the following link to consume my words: She Still Has Her Hair

[cw: suicidal ideation and descriptions of illness/hospitals/ivs/pain medication]

here's a snippet:

She hasn't lost her hair, and that's so much worse.

If she had lost her hair, maybe he would have noticed how bad things have gotten before now. 

Because that's what you think of when you think of cancer patients, right? You picture bald heads and missing brows above sunken, darkly circled eyes. You picture tears in the bathroom as the buzz of a razor shears away the remaining tufts among the patchy surface of a scalp. You picture each fallen strand as another inch marched toward a headstone. When you see a cancer patient with no hair, you know that they are Sick with a capital S. When a cancer patient with no hair shows symptoms of their illness, it doesn't come as a surprise.

However, Scully hasn't lost her hair, and so when she calls him at eleven fifteen on a Sunday night—voice a cracked windshield about to shatter into a million pieces, and a sob lodged in her throat like a chicken bone she can't cough up—he's taken by surprise.

He shouldn't be, but he is.

She still has her hair.

But "Mulder, it's me" has never sounded so frail before, and it terrifies him almost more than the voicemail she left on his answering machine two, nearly three years ago; the one that ended with the sounds of a physical fight filled with cries for help before being abruptly cut off, leaving nothing but horrible questions and no answers.

"What's wrong?" he asks. He'd been dozing on the couch with the lights of a muted infomercial dancing over his face, but at the sound of her voice he is instantly upright and alert. When she doesn't answer right away, he presses, more firmly, "Scully? What's wrong? "

"I was prescribed a new medication at my appointment Friday afternoon, and I can't..." Through the receiver he hears her take a steadying breath. "Supposedly this medication is meant to have a less nauseating effect on patients, but in roughly seven percent of cases, it has actually been shown to increase nausea in certain individuals, leading to severe emesis which eventually culminates in dehydration, presenting with symptoms such as dry mouth, lightheadedness, infrequent or oddly colored urine, confu—"

"And are you one of these patients in the seven percent?" Mulder asks, interrupting her clinical recitation that he suspects is her way of keeping herself detached from her own experience. Scully's silence is answer enough. "When was the last time you were able to keep something down?"

"I don't know," she says quietly.

"More than twelve hours?"

"Yes."

"More than twenty-four?" Nothing. "More than thirty-six?" She's silent. "Scully, you haven't been able to keep down food or water for over thirty-six hours?"

"It started early yesterday morning. Before sunrise, I think."

"Is it just vomiting? Is there anything else going on?"

"I..." She trails off, and Mulder suspects her innate desire to never show a shred of weakness to anyone (but especially him, for some godforsaken reason) is currently at war with the part of her that's spent the better part of two days all alone on the bathroom floor. 

"Tell me, Scully. Don't try to lie or sugarcoat it, just be honest."

"The medication, in conjunction with the physical act of vomiting, has led to a fairly severe case of myalgia—muscle pain—that began and is most prominent in the neck and upper back, but which has since spread to... to... oh God, Mulder"—the crack in her voice is heartbreaking—"it hurts everywhere. Everywhere . I'm in so much pain and I haven't taken a piss in over a day and every time I throw up my head pounds so hard my vision goes white. That's not hyperbole, Mulder, these headaches are quite literally blinding, and what if it's not the pain causing it? What if there's new tumor growth affecting my optic nerves, and this is just foreshadowing for what's yet to come? I don't want to go blind, Mulder, what am I going to do? I can't work if I'm blind. I can't do anything. I don't like the dark, and everything in my body hurts, and I just want it all to stop. Please help. Please help make it stop, Mulder, I hurt so bad." 

By the end of her venting, the sob that had been stuck in her throat has been set loose, and she's crying freely now, pouring out her heart in a way that would probably sound like full-blown bawling if she were strong enough. As it is, her weeping comes out in a strained wheeze, like the squeaky whistle of air sneaking through a small crack in the window when the car is speeding down a highway. 

"Please," she begs again, and the way she speaks reminds him of what it was like to wake up with a stomachache in the middle of the night as a kid and cry out for his mother. It reminds him how desperately afraid and alone he'd feel until his mother was finally roused by his calls, and padded into his room with sleepy eyes and a soft voice so as to not wake up his sister in the room next door.

Maybe, he thinks, it doesn't matter how old you are—that no matter what, being sick by yourself will always be your loneliest moment.

"I'm grabbing my keys right now, Scully, I'm on my way out the door." He jingles the ring of keys in his hand by the receiver of the phone so that she can hear their little chime and hopefully be comforted by it. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Okay," she whispers, no longer crying, but Mulder suspects it has more to do with a lack of physical strength than anything else.

"I'm gonna have to take you to the hospital," he warns. He's sure she expects as much, but it would be easier to get the fight out of the way now if she's going to be resistant.

It's a testament to how utter dogshit she must feel when she says nothing more than another melancholic, "Okay." Somehow, her agreeing to seek help scares him more than if she were refusing. 

"Hang tight, Scully," he tells her gently. "I'm coming."

[eldritch-nightmare]

howdy!! hope you're having a lovely day! may i request ticci toby and any other creeps of your choosing reacting to someone harming their s/o? thank you in advance!

a/n: hi!! thanks for sending the request!! hope you enjoy <3

reacting to someone hurting their gn!s/o.

includes: toby, nurse ann, homicidal liu + sully [separate], the bloody painter, and laughing jill.

warnings: reader gets injured, murder, blood, the murder isn't detailed but some of them may be a little graphic maybe, near-death experiences, it's implied that the reader doesn't know helen kills people.

TICCI TOBY.

He would not be a happy camper, that's for sure.

Toby has already had so much taken away from him, so if someone were to try and take away the one person he allowed himself to love? Yeah, no, not happening.

Toby has taken so many lives he doesn't even know the exact number, and he doesn't normally draw out their death unless it's something Slender wants him to do.

But seeing you passed out on the ground because some sick fuck decided to take their anger out on you... it brought Toby back to darker days, and all he could think about was eliminating the danger to keep you safe.

And let me tell you, Toby draws out your attacker's death. They hurt you, so therefore they deserve every ounce of pain he gives them.

Honestly, if he could, he'd probably keep the person alive over the course of weeks just to get it through their head just how badly they fucked up deciding to hurt you, but he needed to get you help as soon as possible so he leaves your attacker to bleed out.

Once the anger he feels subsides, it'll be replaced by panic and guilt as he rushes you to the nearest place you can receive medical attention, be it the mansion or the hospital.

He won't feel better until you wake up, and even after, this situation will definitely cause him to become a bit paranoid over your safety. He really can't lose you. That's not a pain he can go through again.

It'll probably take you weeks, maybe even months, to reassure Toby that you were okay.

This situation will definitely make him more aware of your safety. If he's not off completing tasks for Slender, he's keeping an eye on you. He's not trying to be clingy or overbearing, he just doesn't want to see you covered in your own blood ever again.

NURSE ANN.

Ann can't remember anything that happened before her death and... proxification, but she does know that you've been by her side through the entire process. You're one of the very small handful of people she trusts and likes, so there was no way she'd let anyone take you away from her.

So when she sees you on the ground, bloodied and bruised because some dumb group of wanna-be urban explorers she was hunting down freaked out thinking you were her? Well, let's just say there's nothing that can calm Ann's burning rage at that moment.

Not only have these people trespassed into her hospital, but they also dare to hurt the love of her life as well? There's no fucking way she'll show them mercy now.

You're barely clinging onto consciousness as you watch your girlfriend mercilessly slaughter the people who dared to even put you in such a state. It's not because you wanted to watch, you were just too exhausted and in far too much pain to look away.

The amount of blood alone was nauseating, and at some point, you couldn't even tell what color the floor was anymore.

But once Ann has dealt with the intruders, she'll oh so gently pick you up from the ground and carry you to the nearest (and cleanest) hospital room so she can treat your wounds.

Ann doesn't speak much, but you can hear her softly apologizing to you as she takes care of you. She tries her best to be careful, not wanting to make the pain worse than it already is. She doesn't feel as if this is her fault, she knows it isn't, but she still can't help but feel bad.

This experience will definitely make her realize just how much she cares for you. It's a little scary, to be quite honest with you. It's weird being attached to someone.

She isn't going to become overbearing when it comes to your safety, but she'll definitely be more careful about hunting down trespassers if she knows you're in the area.

Don't worry, a situation like this will never happen again.

HOMICIDAL LIU.

Oh. Oh boy, what have you done?

Liu is, as we all know, not the type of person to take another's life in cold blood. He only hurts others when it is self-defense because he doesn't want to be anything like his brother.

But keep in mind that Liu is also very protective and he has a lot of pent-up anger (among a variety of other emotions) that he keeps under tight wraps. So, believe me when I tell you that you really do not want to be on the receiving end of that anger.

Unfortunately, some sad soul was completely unaware of this and decided to hurt you.

Now, for Liu, he honestly blacked out the moment he saw you bleeding out on the ground. You, however, witnessed the carnage that was about to take place. Honestly, for a moment, you thought that Sully had taken over because of how violent it got. But no, it was all Liu.

Liu doesn't make quick work of this. No, by the time he came out of whatever stupor of anger he got put in, he was drenched in blood, and the person he killed didn't even look like a person anymore.

He didn't use his gun. He used Sully's knife. You've never seen him use a knife before. He always avoided them, he only ever used guns. But he used a knife. He broke the fucking knife.

Right. Well. You'll just have to sit him down and discuss what transpired later. Preferably when you aren't bleeding out. Luckily for you, Liu has taught himself medical care. He's pretty damn good at treating wounds like this as well, so you're in really good hands.

Just... keep pressure on the wound for a moment while he quickly washes off all the blood on his hands.

You'll be okay. He'll make sure of it. He won't lose you.

SULLY.

Now, I bet you're expecting me to tell you that Sully would also go absolutely ham on the person who hurts you. No. He doesn't. Unlike Liu, he doesn't become overcome with pent-up rage.

He does get angry, don't get me wrong, but that anger isn't important. You're hurt, and you need immediate assistance, so Sully doesn't even spare the person a glance as he pulls out Liu's gun and shoots them in the head.

Sully is... less good at treating wounds. He tries his best whenever he sustains an injury, but Liu is always the one who has to take care of it.

But he does know where a certain eyeless man tends to lurk around, so he won't waste any time taking you to get treatment from him.

He'll keep the conversation topic light as you get treated, joking around with you and talking about anything and nothing at the same time. It keeps a smile on your face, and it keeps you distracted from the pain you're in.

It also keeps Sully distracted from the fact that his hands are shaking.

For a moment, he's not really sure why he's shaking so much. You're safe, and you're getting treated. It's only when you knock out after taking some pain meds that Sully finally realizes that he was scared.

You could've died, realistically. You probably would've if he hadn't been there.

He's never been so close to losing someone before. The thought alone was making his stomach churn. He's... he's never felt scared like this before.

This is probably when he realizes that he loves you.

THE BLOODY PAINTER.

Now, Helen isn't the most emotionally expressive person out there. Just one quick glance at his default expression and you'll come to the conclusion that he's a pretty apathetic person.

But you know him. You've learned how to identify his microexpressions. He had dropped by your place and walked in to see you treating a pretty bad cut on your arm. It was just a very slight shift in his expression, one that only lasted for a fraction of a second, but you could see the worry and the underlying anger.

It's actually pretty awkward as you explain to him what happened, going into detail about how some guy had just randomly decided to attack you when you were in town today.

Helen seemed to be taking in every detail you provided, and when he finally spoke up, it was to ask if you could describe the guy for him.

You had just assumed he was going to sketch the guy's face to give it to the police or something, so you didn't see any real issue with telling Helen, doing your best to describe what the guy looked like. You were honestly over the entire situation. The cut on your arm was bandaged and it didn't hurt much anymore.

The situation ended there for you. It was never brought up again, and Helen stayed the night to help you with anything that may be an inconvenience to do with an injured arm. It was sweet seeing him worried for you, if you're being honest.

It may take a few days, but Helen eventually did track down the person who had hurt you.

He treats them like any other victim, though it's obvious to authorities that this person had a particularly cruel death.

There is nothing tragically beautiful about this person's death. It is not a piece of art like all the other deaths were made out to be. This one still had their blood.

Honestly, their death feels so out of place for the case of the Bloody Painter that authorities are hesitant to consider this another one of his victims. It could be a dispute that led to murder, and in a panic was staged to make it look like a serial killer did it.

And you stay oblivious to this, none the wiser.

LAUGHING JILL.

Look, Jill truly felt as if she would never experience happiness ever again until you came into her life and made her realize that she can still feel such a thing.

You've basically become a source of joy for her, so there was no way in hell she'd ever let that go.

And when someone hurts you? When someone makes your face screw up in pain? It's an image that Jill never wanted to see. She's already lost someone close to her, stolen away from her by a monster. She can't lose you too. She just can't.

She also makes quick work of whoever hurt you, slicing them with her chainsaw once or twice before tossing it to the side and hurrying over to you.

You'll have to reassure her that you're okay as she lets you use her as a pillar of support. Even if you aren't okay, you need to reassure her that you are.

Jill doesn't know how to treat your wounds, something that will definitely change in the future once you're able to get actual treatment.

Honestly, she'll probably burst into tears and apologize profusely even though you getting hurt wasn't her fault. She still should've been there by your side. If she had been, you wouldn't have gotten hurt in the first place.

She'll definitely be hyperaware of anyone who comes near you now. It doesn't matter if it's someone you're close to or if it's a complete and total stranger.

She'll immediately tense up and view them as a threat, sticking close to you just in case something happens.

It'll take months, maybe even years for her to move past this.

[magniloquent-raven]

the devil ain't a beast

Day 1 of @harringrove-flip-reverse-it: Found Family

(read on ao3)

**

Dear Steve,

If you’re reading this, I better be dead. I told you assholes not to open

It’s okay that you guys couldn't

Hey,

It’s weird writing this while you’re sitting right over there

Steve,

I just…wanted to say thank you. I never said it, after you stood up to Billy for me. For Lucas. I should have.

Thank you.

Not just for what you did that night, but everything after that. All the little things. The free movies and driving all of us around and letting me poach quarters out of your glove box (I know you noticed). I know I’m about to die so Maybe it’s stupid to be thinking about some change and a back entrance into the theatre when I’m under the circumstances, but it’s more about the fact that you didn’t have to do any of it.

I know Dustin strong-armed you into helping with the whole D’art situation, but after that you kept choosing to hang out with us, when I’m sure you could’ve found better things to do.

So. I hope you don’t mind that we all kind of see you as a big brother, because we do. I do. It was nice knowing what it’s like for people who aren’t scared to care about their siblings.

When Billy died I’m sorry for pulling away after Starcourt I couldn’t even handle losing the brother I sort of hated, so

Please keep looking after Lucas for me.

-Max

Billy never really learned to keep his nose out of other people’s business.

Maybe this will finally teach him.

The letter falls from his numb fingers, floating back into place on Steve’s desk, light as air and landing silently.

His grip on the page left it crumpled, wrinkled, sweaty fingerprints dented into the blank space below Max’s last words for Steve. Damning evidence that he’s been snooping around, not that Steve would normally care. What’s mine is yours, he said. And so far it seems he meant it.

The words leave a bitter taste in his mouth now.

But he never wanted Max to be his sister, did he. He always said as much. To anyone who would listen, including Max herself. It’s not surprising that she decided to replace him with someone better. His stare goes glassy, scattered papers and trophies and the yellow lamp all blur. His eyes sting.

He has no right to be hurt over this. It shouldn’t hit him like a punch in the gut, but it has, and he aches all over, swaying, nauseated.

And there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. That’s the worst part. He can’t make it better, there’s no fixing this, no patching things up with Max, no going back in time and beating the shit out of himself before he can ruin everything.

No one wanted to tell him, at first. After he clawed his way out of a fissure in the ground, blood and dirt under his nails, and scared the shit out of all of Max’s little nerd friends. She was conspicuously missing, and no one would tell him why.

Being trapped in hell for eight and a half months wasn’t as bad as finding out he was two days too late to ever talk to his sister again. At least when he was being attacked by monsters he could fight back. There’s no fighting this. There’s no excising his grief no matter how many times he bloodies his knuckles.

The sound of the front door being flung open echoes up the stairs. “I’m home!” Steve calls just barely loud enough to be heard, muted by exhaustion.

Billy goes rigid, tension coiling up his spine. It’s usually a relief when Steve comes back, after the quiet, the boredom of being cooped up in an empty house all day. He’s a bright spot, a comforting presence…

It’s not hard to see why Max preferred him.

Billy lets out a slow breath, and swipes at the wetness on his cheeks.

Familiar anger bubbles up in the back of his throat. So familiar it’s almost comforting. He’d rather be angry than blubbering like a child, wallowing in misery.

He’s tired of being second best. Never the favourite, never good enough.

He can’t do anything about how fucking inadequate he was, he can’t ever change enough to make it right, so what’s the fucking point, what’s the point of any of this.

It’s pressure behind his eyes now, tears blurring with something else, that rage that threatens to blind him. He can feel it in his fingertips, and coiled like a snake between his ribcage.

He has to get out. He has to just. Go. Before he breaks another thing that can’t be fixed.

He doesn’t look at Steve, doesn’t listen to his confused stuttering, and he barely feels their shoulders collide as he pushes past him, out the door.

[threepandas]

Bad End: Poisoned Cups

I hadn't adjusted well, at first. I don't think anyone could have. Being an elf sound cool, on paper. The better eye sight, the incredible hearing, the stamina. All sorts of perks right? But what they don't tell you, is that when your soul is human? When you get isekai'd by some divine oversight or fucker with a truck?

It doesn't adapt that well, to a new body. Your soul INSISTS you should still be human, with all the trappings, and throws a FIT, when you just.... aren't. So you end up with migraines. Eyes that swim in and out of focus. Wheezing, struggling, breathe. A body at war with itself.

The world was so loud. Too loud. I could hear EVERYTHING and it HURT. Couldn't breathe and THAT hurt. Was nauseated all the time, from my eyes refusing to focus properly. That too, hurt. All of it, pain. Just? Pain. Day after day, pain pain pain.

My poor parents were helpless. The doctors struggled.

But the King? HE could save me.

And he did.

He was younger then. Just barely into his rule. His Father having just stepped down. My parents, desperate, brought me before him. Waited in line for days. They didn't even know if he COULD do anything, were grimly prepared for him to say that sadly, nothing COULD be done. But? Instead? He looked me over, called for several old texts, looked again, then called upon the strength of the Throne.

My parents apparently started weeping the second I stopped.

All I remember is the pain going away. Being exhausted. A REALLY pretty elf man in a crown. Things getting... better, after that.

I was told that story often, as a child. It utterly transformed our household. From merely loyal citizens, to devote Loyalists. Speaking ill of the King in THIS house? Would now get you HURT. My parents had been convinced they were going to LOSE me. The King as far as they were concerned, saved my LIFE.

Which is why I didn't put anything together. Seeing as we were an "all King all the time" Sort of house. We had one(1) team and we were sticking to it. Permanently. His son? Eeeeh, maybe. We'd figure that out later. We didn't care to know. And I was too busy with school work to CHECK.

Which? Meant I didn't NOTICE? He looked? More and more... Otome Capture Target as time went on. Specifically, he looked kinda crown prince from "Dance of the Secret Forest! A True Love For Me?!" sort of Shaped. Which... gee, what ARE the odds? Especially given that so many OTHER things are named suspiciously similar or exactly the same to that game?

.........yeeeeeah. I decided not to take chances.

I looked that shit UP.

And wouldn't you know it? Protagonist-chan? Not there yet. But she SURE COULD BE! All the legends were EXACTLY what they should be. Forests and locations the same! PEOPLE the same! Oh HELL no. Good to know where NOT to be, I guess.

Not my circus, NOT my Otome Drama Monkeys.

I? Would be working for the KING. My family owed him a debt.

And when I graduated? I applied. Top of my class. I studied my ASS off. Could have gone anywhere. But I was aiming for the TOP. A debt to be repayed and frankly? Excellent job security on top of it! So filling busy work in dusty ass backrooms it was. Gotta start from the bottom, after all.

I exhausted them. Was honestly barely trying too at that point. They should see me TRYING to put my nose to the grindstone. Burn the midnight oil! Ha! HA, I say! Long elven lifespans slow you all down! I? Used to live in a capitalist hellscape! This is NOTHING.

I'm not even multi-tasking. It's not even LUNCH YET.

Did I get promoted? Yes. Do I worry my coworkers? Deeply! But shit needs doing and we don't have all day! There is a nation to run! Have some tea. Eat a turnover. Now~! Where are my fuckin documents~☆?

I get promoted again.

Then again.

Aaaaand again.

I'm pretty sure it's cause I scare people. Am FAST. Efficient. Willing to hunt my coworkers for SPORT, like a god damned bloodhound, if it means we get that one extra tax document that makes or breaks us. I have (and will again if necessary) climbed through people's fucking WALLS. Cause, honestly? If they wanted to stop me?

They should have warded the gods damned vents.

Fuckin casuals. Get on my level.

So, now? I am the baby. King's inner circle. And EVERYONE? Is damn near twice my age! And, granted, yes. It IS hilarious I still scare like half the people working under me... but come ON! You are elite government officials! Do BETTER! (Geez. At least my PARENTS couldn't be prouder.)

But... (and God damn it, why is there ALWAYS a "but"?) here's the thing. It? Took me a WHILE to get where I am now. Long enough, in fact, for our... Problem, to arrive. A Problem which is GOING to cast his Majesty's kingdom into chaos and turmoil, in fighting and divides. Religious upheaval. A PROBLEM, which? In the name of luuuuuv~?

Is going to get NEIGHBORING COUNTRIES involved.

And WHO do you think is going to have to deal with that? WHO will have to prevent all out WAR? Religious schisms? Ward off assassins in the night? Certainly not Mr. "But Daddy, I love her!". Oh no, HE gets to sit back and enjoy the fruits of his father's suffering! Make more trouble! (Fucker.)

But, hey! Maybe I should throw in with his SECOND son, right? The supporting character? He seems vastly more reasonable and emotionally more balanced doesn't he? Well educated, cautious, why, thoughtful even! Ha ha... yeah... he DOES seem that way, doesn't he?

SEEMS.

He Is Not. Little fucker is a SPECIAL flavor of batshit. Completely "wake to find him standing over you, in your LOCKED BEDROOM, asking if you want to see his new favorite knife" nutty puffs. Not sure which side of the family it comes from, to be honest. Disturbingly good at getting past my warding.

Or at least he WAS, until I got the King involved. Ha! Royal wards! You can't touch me! I sleep like a BABY now! The only people who can enter my rooms now? Are literally JUST me and the KING HIMSELF! How safe is that~‽

But for real... poor his Majesty, you know? It's not like he didn't TRY to be a good father. Take time he couldn't afford out of each day, to spend time with his sons. Insist on eating meals together so he could ask them about their interests, how each day had gone. Involved them where he safely could.

He's a somber man. A dignified one. But let NO ONE say, he is not a LOVING one.

And HOW do his children fucking reward him? Middle school love dramatics and MURDER ATTEMPTS IN THE NIGHT! Because, YES, I have found the disturbing murder board that the second prince has in his "secret" room. Right along his equally disturbing stalker board of ME.

I, obviously, told the King.

He did not look pleased.

Don't know if my new reality has, like, intensive therapy programs or something? But I hope for ALL our sakes, that the second Prince is at the winter palace getting HELP, instead of just? You know... plotting.

His Highness has a nasty tendency to plot, after all. But hey, his Majesty says not to worry about it? I choose to believe him. Concern myself with more immediate threats. Enjoy, no longer turning around to find some baby faced little creep with a hunter's stare, just... watching me. As I try to work. As I try to eat. Around corners, still as a statue, yet somehow a THREAT, in lonely and too empty corridors.

God fucking DAMN, his little "crush" was creepy!

If it weren't for his Majesty? I would have run and run FAR. But... but I? And you CAN NOT repeat this, okay? It's WILDLY inappropriate! A-And I SWEAR I'm never going to.. to ACT on it! I would NEVER. So...so PROMISE, okay?

....cause.... I may... MAY! Possibly! Just a LITTLE bit! Sorta, kinda, just a BIT? Have a TEENY? Little crush... on... his Majesty? Maybe???

YOU CAN'T TELL!

It's SO fucking inappropriate. Oh my GOD. I hate this so much!? Cause he's my BOSS! And old enough to be my DAD! I SHOULDN'T be so attracted to him, right?! Plus he's the KING! There's definitely a power imbalance there! How would that even WORK?! We would have no future! I don't know the first THING about how to BE royalty. And no one would accept me!

Not that I think I even have a CHANCE! Fuck no! I'm not THAT arrogant.

But, like? A girl can day dream. Fantasize, you know?

Which is why? Having his SON? Be a creepo stalker at me? Kinda the WORST. I've literally JUST discovered I'm into older men! Thanks! BEGONE, zygote! Also, your vibes are RANCID! No thanks! I hated that and am SO glad it's gone. Now? All I have to worry about? Is Protagonist-chan and the political SHIT SHOW she drags after her like trail of destruction.

Why is she involving foreign royalty? PLEASE stop involving foreign royalty! Dukes! Religious leaders! MILITARY LEADERS. Stop "Helen of Troy"-ing your ass through our nice, PEACEFUL, kingdom!!! What the ACTUAL FUCK!? This is NOT A THEME PARK.

I watch, vaguely horrified, as his Majesty finishes reading three (yes, count um! Fucking THREE!) different royal missives demanding three different women of legend, from three DIFFERENT legends, who coincidentally enough? Happen to ALL BE THE SAME PERSON. Fucking Protagonist-chan.

They were from long standing ALLIES.

We could not AFFORD to lose those.

And the FOURTH message? Oh, THAT? That, was from his SON! Mr. "But Daddy! I Love her!" HIMSELF! He wants permission to marry the random woman of unknown province he found in the woods! Could be a foreign spy! Could be a mad woman. Who CARES right? They're SO in love~

Enough to START A WAR OVER IT.

I skip the tasting cups and instead? Bring his Majesty a bottle of the strongest star wine I can find. The sort that could damn near eat through rocks and vaporizes in air if you pour it out. Pain killers too, for what HAS to be a killer headache. Then I hesitate. You know what? Fuck it. I grab a cart. Make a care package.

Paper, ink, the STRONG tea, that special occasions tea (in case he needs a reason to remember his will to live), some snacks, a few shawls in case he decides to work late...

It's worth it, to see the way his stressed face relaxs when I return. Eyes softening, corner of his mouth curling up in that tiny, secret, little smile. We can get through this. We WILL get through this. I may not be able to stand by his side, but? I can support him. Help.

So long as HE sits in this office, burning himself down to keep this nation warm, so too, will I.

Tea or booze, your Majesty?

"A blend, I think. Unfortunately, I fear it is going to be a long night for us both." He replies. His voice smooth and low, effortlessly filling the room. A lifetime of public speaking, ingrained so very deep. "You should pour yourself a cup as well, my dear. Sleep will be a long time coming, we will need both the calm and the clarity."

I rolled my borrowed tea cart to the side and got to work. Strong tea and stronger star wine. Certainly a... flavor. Fairly certain such a thing should be illegal. Pretty sure our healers are going to be appalled. But, oh well. Needs, must. One for me, one for him.

He held out a hand. It was a sweeping gesture of his arm, a gentle turn of his wrist. I could never get used to his casual... elegance. The beauty of him. Like a living art work. A dancer. As though he were an actor, striking a pose, about to consider the soul of the simple tea cup. I handed it over, gently and with as much elegance as I could.

It still felt clumsy in comparison.

Yet he still smiled, just slightly. In that way I had learned to spot. Tension dripping away from his shoulders like thawing ice. Running in little rivers like melt waters, as he sat back in his chair, half turning it to face me. A brief moment to relax. Before work begins again.

"Ah... completely vile. Thank you, dear. It's disgusting." He said dryly, catching me off gaurd, and making me damn near snort into my cup. "If it did not work so well? I would never consume this swill again. What a perfect waste of tea and wine. We should invite Yevault."

I laugh. A snirking, snorting, choked little thing into my cup. God, but I've been TRYING to laugh more elegantly. Hell, I've even practiced. But when he catches me off gaurd? I swear to God, I cackle and pop. Like some sort of deranged witch pig. Ow, my sinuses.

"Oh but that's right, Yevault is a healer, on the occasions he takes time from being an unbearable snob. He might actually make us rest, dear. Then where would we be?" His Majesty muses, taking another sip before grimacing at the taste.

I go to respond. Probably some quip about "preferably in bed" or "asleep". Only... only to find my tounge sluggish. My exhaustion mounting, not slipping away. The world has begun to sway. Just a little at first, then notable. My mouth... fuzzy? Prickly. W...what?

His Majesty has begun to frown. Delicately setting down his cup... cup? Something about... a cup... I have taken too long to respond. He rises. Strides in a few, urgent, steps over to where I lean. Against the edge of my assistants desk. Swaying~ swaying~ w-why is the ground... my tounge feels to big. Think? I've begone to drool?

Warm, big hands cup my face. Was slipping forward, to the side. Gonna fall? Not anymore. Up. Hi! Is the king. Hi King. I... I don't feel so good...

His eyes have gone focused and cold. Pretty. Crown begins to glow. Leaves. Gold and gold, a halo of light. From within and beyond him. Power of the throne. Oh... oh I was here before, wasn't I? My bones remember. Like the roots to his great tree, power seeping deeper and deeper into my body, finding imperfections to consume. So... so much LIGHT.

I can not look away.

"Poison, was it? How terribly banal. Do they think me so simple to kill?" There is scorn in his voice. Utter distain. But deep beneath, like the hidden embers of a forest fire, there is rage. "How dare they drag you into this. Bad enough they throw a FIT over some trouble making tart, now they get the innocent involved? What if I had not been paying attention? Or you had taken that tea where I could not see it? Unacceptable."

Like spreading branches, like antlers, the light spread. The hands on my face gentle even as his Majesty's face might as well have been carved from stone. I tried to protest, swallowing thinking past the still rolling nausea. It was my fault! The tasting cups exsist for a REASON. They're supposed to test for things like this. I got too comfortable.

"No." The word slammed down as about an absolute as any sentence CAN. A declaration from on high. The commandment of a king. "It takes far more then simple poisons or common blades to kill me. The power that flows through the Throne insures it. You do not have that luxury. You could have DIED."

"....might still yet."

The last bit, almost a confession, pressed to my brow as he leaned down to press his lips to my forhead. His grip tighter, as though to stop his hands from shaking. My joints were starting to hurt, like I had a nasty cold, and I was already starting to feel feverish. I was starting to drip sweat. Shit.

I tried to stay calm. But... but I was scared. What do I do? Your Majesty! What do I DO?!

"We are going back to my quarters. Work can be brought to me. You need to lay down." He decided after a long moment of deliberation. Something had shifted in his eyes. I couldn't make heads or tails of it. Clung to the only trustworthy source of comfort I knew, in the chaos of this moment. "I'm going to take care of you. I have you, dear. Just trust me, darling. I will fix this. I swear it. You don't have to worry about a thing. Just put all of your trust in me, all right?

"Just come with me, dear. Everything will be all right."

"You can trust me."