#its been a while since i've last looked at these it was quite some time ago when i drew them aaaha!

[sysig]

Feeling and looking good 🌈 (Patreon)

[yo-yo-yoshiko]

My two sticker designs for @ultrainfinitepit's Angelology III: Wings and Waves kickstarter! There are a ton of super cool works by various artists, not to mention Ultra's own incredible designs in both pin and sticker form! Please check it out!!!

[losersiren]

𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭

"𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒽, 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒.” CW: Fem reader (she/her), possessiveness, suggestive Note: This is my first time writing something like this and posting it...go easy on me o(>< )o

The chandlers decorated the ceiling above the spacious ballroom, giving a gentle glow to the people filling said ballroom. The social season has just started to blossom, giving men and women room to court each other if one is blessed with the opportunity for such an experience. Catching the eye of a reliable suitor is quite troublesome– most of the men here do not fit any of your requirements, and if they did, they would suddenly be caught in a scandal of sorts, causing them to be an outcast. Not a good look on you or your family name.

You idly toy with the fan in your hand, your gaze sweeping over the sea of faces in the room. The task at hand feels insurmountable, and finding a suitable suitor in this town is daunting. Perhaps, you muse, debuting late was a misstep, a decision that now seems to mock you. You could always become a spinster…and ruin your reputation and lineage because you choose such an idiotic choice… regrettably it may be the easier option.��

“Pray tell why you’re glued to this corner as if you’re some wallflower,” A witty baritone voice whispers in your ear, the hairs of your neck standing upright while a cold shiver runs down your spine.

The sense of familiarity washes over you, and the resentment still lingers from years ago makes its way forward. The Earl’s son, your childhood close friend, who left you without a word after he said he’d be there for you.

What a bastard

“Have you ever heard of personal space? Or have you forgotten the amount of lectures your mother ingrained into your head on etiquette when you were just a brat?” You bite back with venom coating every word you spit out. You place your fan on your left ear.

”Ah, I see.” He steps back and gives you space. “You’ve become cold-hearted towards me since my departure overseas. I was only gone for a mere moment.” He switches his position from behind you to in front of you. He takes up your whole vision, his maturity, more evident now since the last time you saw him as a juvenile boy. It's been a few years, hasn't it? Yet he still has his teasing nature; no boarding school or amount of lectures can take that away from him. He bows a little lower than he should, his right hand to the opposite shoulder and his left arm behind his back. He looks up at you with those oh-so-regretful grey eyes. “I wholeheartedly apologize for departing overseas in such an impulsive matter without even notifying you in any way. I should’ve sent you letters and a hoard of messenger doves to accompany you”. “But I did not, and for that, my Lady, I've made a significant sin in your eyes– I do not deserve your forgiveness, but oh, if you could grant me such a pleasure.”

His voice is as quiet and soft as a starving mouse stealing food from a kitchen, careful for only your ears to pick up his pleas for forgiveness. Just as though you were a goddess punishing him, which he should be reprimanded tenfold in his eyes, who was he to abandon you without a trace? Though the situation before was entirely out of his hands, he didn’t want to go to that goddamned private school that was away from you; he fought tooth and nail not to go. Every house servant had to push and hold him down because he kept fighting; even his family members were victims of his wrath. His father, The Earl, still has fading scars from that night years ago.

He should’ve fought harder for you.

People around you start noticing; who wouldn’t? One of the most prestigious Earls of this country’s only son is bowing dishonourably low, borderline grovelling like a peasant caught stealing a measly loaf of bread. You feel eyes turning onto you, women whispering between their fans to one another, wondering in what predicament the next-in-line Earl would be for him to be embarrassingly bowing to a one-of-a-mill daughter of a viscount—a rank lower than him and a woman at that; your fan placement is not making it look better. Immediately change the position of your fan from your left ear to twirling it in your left hand, hoping he understands the situation he has put not only him but you in.

 He only smiles in return. “Stand straight; You look like a fool.” You hiss, “Do I have your forgiveness, Darling?” a scoff escapes your mouth. “That is either here or there! Be proper. Others are watching.” That doesnt deter him, nor does he care about them. “So my apology wasn't sufficient? Since you are thinking about everyone else but me.” More eyes make their way onto the pair of you, and whispers grow with the exchange of gossip. “You’re acting like a child-” He cuts you off. “Shall I go on my knees for you? I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but preferably, I would love to be in a more…secluded environment.” A smirk graces his lips at the thought. “Or shall I kiss your feet-” 

“You are a soon-to-be- Earl! Has that school taught you nothing? God, you’ve become more insufferable, I swear.” Your face feels warmer now, and embarrassment takes over you from his childish yet sincere teasing.

The young lord’s eyes fixated on you, on your lips, how your dress accentuates your already perfect self, your hands, oh, how he wishes to feel them against his. The years it's been since he saw you, he could listen to you scold him for hours on end; it doesn’t matter what you are saying. Just hearing your voice is enough. God knows it's been too long since he’s been deprived of you. He thanks his past self for sabotaging whatever male decided to even think of courting you. Though he was far away, his social standing never changed.

The lord decided by the second month he was away from you to pay his old servants to send him as much information as possible on the vermins that would try to nestle their way into your life. He would…No, he has ruined anyone who wanted to get in between you two. And he’ll keep it that way. You’ve stolen his heart since meeting him as a lad.

“So you wish for me to kneel? As you wish.” He starts to kneel; gasps can be heard. But you stop him, holding his shoulders upright; his eyes widen as you touch him.

You’re so close

“I forgive you…I forgive you…”

“I forgive you, Ambrose…”

Oh…

His name on your tongue….

His mind blanks. Has he gone to heaven? Oh, you sweet angel, you have him wrapped around your finger. And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

His smile is blinding as he stands and looks down at you.

“Then now that's settled…May I have the honour of a dance with yours truly?”

.." Or shall I beg more?"

End Notes: Fun fact (not really): I based most of this post on The Regency era, and that includes fan language! That is why I described the readers' actions with it. Placing the fan on your left ear means "I wish to get rid of you." Twirling the fan with your left hand means "We are watched." Thought that would be something fun to add (^.^)

[quimichi]

⌗﹒THEIR VOICE LINES ABOUT YOU ౨ৎ˚₊‧ GN!

Aether

❝Since the beginning of Mondstadt they've been with me. They actually turned out to be my second guide! Which makes Paimon even more of an emergency food❞

❝Whaa-Paimon will pretend Paimon didn't hear that!❞

❝No really, I'm glad I found them...or rather they found me. It really wasn't much of a surprise when I-oh-I'm already talking too much again.❞

❝Traveler can go shy when he talks about his lover, hehe. STOP PULLING ME AWAY-H-HEY-!❞

Albedo

❝Oh? I see, you already heard about Y/n. Well, its not a big of a surprise, they're well known here in Mondstadt. Don't worry, if you ever encounter them, dont be shy to talk to them. They have actually been a great help for my researches and experiments. ❞

Al-Haitham

❝ Y/N? Yes, what about them? Yes, we're in a relationship, and? No, I'm not mad, why? I'm asking to much questions? Could ask you that, you seem awfully interested in my partner. Passive aggressive? Pff, now you're just pretending things. ❞

Ayato

❝ You'd like to know more about Y/n? What makes you think I have answers? Oh? I see, Ayaka has told you about it, well...Me and Y/n have been in a relationship for quite a while now. They're a very good support, doesn't matter what path i take or decisions I make, they always have my back. Without them I wouldn't be half the man I am right now. Satisfied with this answer? ❞

Baizhu

❝ The person that always helps out here is not some assistant. Don't worry, I'm sure they're not insulted. Who else are they then? Oh, my lover. Whats with that surprised look on your face? Didn't think I'd be taken? To be frank...I'm quite surprised too that I got this lucky.❞

Bennett

❝ Y/n? My lucky charm? They're awesome! A loyal member in Benny's adventure team...the only one though...They go on every adventure with me! Saved my life multiple times! Bring me good furtune! And are my partner! Wow, I really lucked out for real this time.❞

Capitano

❝ I'd like to keep my private life as private as possible...but for you I make an exception, just this once. Yes, Y/n is my life partner, my lover if you'd like to put it that way. I hold them very dear and would protect them with my life if i have to. So, if I ever sense any bad intentions coming from you, I will crush you with everything I've got.❞

Childe

❝ They spend last winter with me and my family. So, to show them around and make them feel more comfortable in Snezhnaya we had a little snowball fight. Y/n got hit a dozen times in the face by Teucer. They lost, obviously. But the best part was, when we went home, the slipped right before the door and fell ass first to the ground...but instead of being upset or annoyed...they laughed. I knew they we're the one right then and there.❞

Chongyun

❝ Oh you know Y/n? Well, I do too. You knew? Xingqiu huh?...Can't seem to keep quite sometimes...Yes, I am dating them. Saying this feels foreign...I still can't believe they chose me of all people. But I'm not too insecure about it, after all, they chose me of all people.❞

Cyno

❝ Y/n is one of the few people who actually laugh at my jokes. I don’t know if its out of pity or if i truly make them laugh, but either way i don't care. As long as i see a smile on their face I'm at ease. Huh? What do you mean i sound lovesick?❞

Dainsleif

❝ There are things that I'd rather keep private and save, including my relationship with Y/n. So I have to apo-...no, i trust you but-...You're right. Y/n and I have been in a relationship for quite a long time now. They mean a lot to me, thats why I want to keep any information about them as private as I can.❞

Diluc

❝ Yes, I am in a relationship with Y/n. I guess the topic makes his rounds, huh? We announced our relationship just yesterday, but have been serious for a long time now. I am...not a public as you know. And i didn't wanted any unwanted or negative attention on both of us but i know i can trust you. Right?❞

Dottore

❝ Did i ever had a lover? What an inappropriate question of you~ Of course i had lovers, but none could compare to my favorite. Have you heard of Y/n? Oh yes, they are quite popular aren't they~? Well, they're mine, all mine. So it would be better for you if you keep your hands off them. ❞

Freminet

❝ Are they my friend? Uhm...no...they're a bit more than that. Uhm, yeah they're my partner. We've been together for a while now...Am i happy? Of course i am...I'm just a bit embarrassed thats all. No one has really asked me about our relationship yet except for Lyney, Lynette and father.❞

Gorou

❝ You want to know about Y/n? Sure, what do you wanna know? Yes, they're my partner, in fact, we live together! They're a really caring, they make breakfast every morning, tend any injuries i have and sometimes even run me a bath...that was too intimate.❞

Heizou

❝ Y/n? What do you know about them? Nothing yet but you wanna know more? Why? Interested? Why am I asking all these questions? I'm a detective, and you're interested in my lover-oops-now i ran my mouth.❞

Itto

❝ You mean the oni one for me?! The true love of my life!? THEY'RE AWESOME. I'm so incredibly lucky to have them. AND they're so incredibly lucky to have the awesome one and oni Arataki Itto as their boyfriend!❞

Kazuha

❝ They are currently waiting for my arrival...i cannot wait to have them in my arms again. I miss them every day...What's that book? Oh, it's just for all the poems i write for them while being away. One poem for each day. Once I'm back, i read them to them.❞

Kaeya

❝ Oh you mean my little snowflake? Yes, i know them quite well, i can assure you that one. Wasn't always like that though, took is a while to actually get closer. But i won't complain either way, I'm happy that we finally found each other...damn, look at all the sappy things I'm saying, they've done this to me.❞

Kaveh

❝ I'm still planning our house, i just cannot make it perfect! Ugh, it's really getting on my nerves. I NEED this perfect for them, I need to make this the house of their dreams. But it's taking way to long. Since when am i planning? About 3 years. And since when are we dating? Also about 3 years...oh...❞

Kinich

❝ When they first traveled to Natlan they didn't met me immediately. I've only got to know them through Mualani and Kachina. They once expressed their hatred towards saurian hunters, went off yapping for a good hour too. You should've seen the look on their face once i told them i was one of them. They're still embarrassed to this day, even more after i explained what i really do. One of the many memories that truly make me happy.❞

Lyney

❝ They're aware that true magic doesn't exist. That all my shows are just an act. That somewhere is a trick hidden, so simple its ridiculous. And yet, they're still amazed, still getting big eyed when I'm on stage preforming. Even after countless shows that are the same, they're clapping along like it was the first....I couldn't not have asked for a better support and love in my life then them.❞

Mika

❝ I still don't know how i managed to confess, maybe it's because i can't really remember it anyway. It's a memory I'd like to forget entirely, mostly because i was so embarrassed afterwards. But I never want to forget what they said afterwards. Everytime i hear those 4 words from them I get butterflies.❞

Neuvillette

❝ Y/n and I are in a serious relationship since 5 years and 4 months. We have been living together since 3 years and 1 month. I do consider our relationship deep and intimate. I trust them deeply and never once did I think about it otherwise. I truly believe that our relationship will hold on for eternity. Is this enough information or should I tell you more?❞

Pantalone

❝ Ah, my spoiled little brat? Joking, joking...well, only half. I do spoil them quite a lot, but i wouldn't consider them a brat...most of the time. Just last week I bought them this new coat, winter in Snezhnaya are the hardest in all Teyvat. Oh, and new gloves, a scarf an-no, why would i brag with my money, it's not like i have enough to buy at least million of coats.❞

Pierro

❝ The only thing you need to know is that they are with me and well taken care off. Should you not remember the fact that any hate or violence towards them is strictly forbidden, i will gladly remind you. ❞

Razor

❝ Y/n helped Razor a lot. Razor appreciates it, the help. Razor also loves Y/n. That's what Y/n always tells Razor every day. So Razor tells Y/n every day too.❞

Scaramouche

❝ Who? My lover? Them? No, I would never. No, I'm not keeping anything private?! Neither am I ashamed of anything...quite the opposite, huh? No, said nothing. Screw off now, i need to be somewhere. Where? None of your damn business...So what if its a date?!❞

Thoma

❝ Mhm, you're quite right, Y/n and I arw together. Lucked out, huh? I'm currently teaching them how to cook some dishes, been going well...for the most part. No, they have a hand for it but both of us always seem to lose any focus once we're 30 minutes into it.❞

Tighnari

❝ You should've heard their begging, "Oh Tighnari please, i can keep my own garden!" Yeah, keeping it, but not take care of it. Because who takes care of it? Correct, me. It's easy work, so it's not too troublesome. But what is troublesome is how they don't take care of it. *sigh* maybe i am a bit to harsh on them, they are a bit stressed lately anyway. They deserve to take a rest and calm down from everything. So i gladly take care of the garden, for as long as they need me to.❞

Venti

❝ Our first meeting was quite the embarrassing one, almost feel quite shy telling it....Ok! Ok! I'll tell you!....I fell into their lap...No, i wasn't drunk! Someone else was, pushed me by accident and i stumbled backwards right onto their lap in angels share. And to top it off i took their plate and drink with me. Lucky for me, they weren't mad at all. Still...it's so embarrassing!❞

Wriothesley

❝ Took them quite a while to adjust to Meropide. Understandable though, it's a change from the surface. But once they grew comfortable, it's almost like they don't want to leave. They quickly befriended almost everyone, especially Sigewinne. They grew quite popular here in the matter of just a few weeks. Good for me i got them first before anyone else could.❞

Xiao

❝ Hm? Oh, them? Yes, we're close. Why do you ask? Just curious? Ugh, don't look at me like that. What do you wanna hear? How much i love them? You can wait till the day Teyvat will shatter entirely, I won't say it to you, only to them.❞

Xingqiu

❝ Our love story is picture perfect. A written love story by the finest ink. Full of clichés. We reached for the same book, and our hands touched. Then and there, i was mesmerized...until they snatched the book first.❞

Zhongli

❝ Our love story has been holding on since 3717 years, and it will hold on for many years more. What makes me so sure it will? We love each other like it was the very first day. Never once did we lie to one another, were apart from each other or lost our trust. I do have a contract anyway if anything should happen.❞

[midnightcrw]

Provocative

Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader

Summary: Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he sees a good friend he hasn't seen in a long time.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of discrimination (this is fluff, by the way)

a/n: This is my first time writing for Alastor and anything related to the Hazbin Hotel, so I hope you all will like it. Please tell me if there's anything in this one shot that might offend anyone, and I'll do my best to change it or clarify my thought process.

Charlie was walking around in circles because of the fact that her dad was going to come over to the hazbin hotel for the first time.

And while everyone seemed quite unbothered, she couldn't calm down while Vaggie was currently helping Sir Pentious put up the decorations.

"You have been walking around in circles for the last fifteen minutes, darling," your voice was heard as you put a hand on Charlie's shoulder.

She stopped abruptly as she felt the weight on her shoulder and turned her head slightly to look into your eyes, "It's just been a while since I've seen him and I really want this to go well."

Her usual optimistic tone was much less energetic and confident as she started to look around, clearly avoiding your eyes.

You let out a sigh, a small smile finding its way to your lips as you cupped her chin between your thumb and forefinger, "There's nothing to panic about. I'm sure everything will go perfectly."

Your words seemed to calm the blonde down a bit as she gave you a slight nod, "I hope you're right," she muttered as you let go of her chin.

With that, Charlie made her way over to Vaggie to look at the decorations she had put up with Sir Pentious.

You just smiled at the sight when you suddenly heard a low static behind you, "She's been all over the place since the call," Alastor mused, his sharp grin never leaving his face.

Rolling your eyes at him, you opened your mouth to speak, "Let her be, she's trying her best."

"Oh, I know, my dear. I want the best for Charlie too," Alastor's words made you shake your head, knowing there was more to it, but even with you, he wasn't eager to share that information.

If you had known that you would be bound to him even in hell, you would have run as fast as you could in your mortal life.

But your 'lovely' husband had a way with words even then. Even if the two of you didn't marry for love, there was definitely something there.

Back in New Orleans, Alastor had a hard time because he was half Creole. He was always at a disadvantage because he did not fit into the standard, even though he tried his best to somehow blend in.

But radio was really the perfect solution and a passion of his. It even helped him because no one saw his face and only had to listen to his voice, which even he had forced to sound different, his usual deep tone becoming much higher to fit into the society.

And once he became famous, he even started to change his appearance. His usually dark brown wavy hair was straightened by him, while he also started to dress like the rest of the crowd.

But even then it never seemed to be enough. His tan complexion was still striking to some, as people began to gossip about him from time to time.

The prejudices against him never stopped, as people even started to question him because he wasn't married, making him out to be a cruel man who couldn't even find love, and that's where you came in, to get rid of at least one of the many talked about topics about him. At least then the people of New Orleans would know that Alastor really was a lovable man.

You really couldn't have cared less about the standards and the gossip that had made its way when Alastor started to pursue you back then. Even though he did not even reveal his intentions at first, you could still tell that there was more to it than just love in itself.

And even after he revealed his true intention behind a marriage, you accepted it. You didn't really have anything to lose anyway, and his charming words seemed to sway you somehow.

However, getting married and playing the role of a happily married couple had been a struggle. Both of you being at each other's throats, but never really being able to truly hate each other, was definitely odd.

But leaving that aside for now, there were more important matters at hand as you let go of your thoughts of the past.

"Just don't ruin this for her," your stern tone was obvious and with that you went over to help Niffty with cleaning up.

A few minutes passed and everything seemed to be perfect now, but not for Charlie.

"What if he hates the way the hotel looks?" She asked herself, her hands pulling tightly on her hair.

"He won't. You don't have to worry. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you at all," Vaggie said in a reassuring voice as she put an arm around her girlfriend's shoulder and gave her a small kiss on the forehead.

That little gesture made Charlie blush as she leaned against Vaggie, trying to calm herself, and when she felt ready, she made her way to the door.

"Okay everyone, it's showtime!" She said with a smile on her face, looking at everyone as the door was suddenly flung open by Lucifer, who said his daughters name and hugged her tightly.

Standing near the door, Alastor looked at the two of them with a crazy glint in his eyes and his never-ending smile showing his teeth.

And that's when you knew that this wasn't going to end well.

As Lucifer looked around the hotel, Alastor didn't seem happy at all, angry at the fact that he was being ignored.

"It's got a lot of character... What in the unholy hell is that?" Lucifer asked in a disbelieving tone, as a frown made its way onto his face.

Already knowing that Alastor wasn't going to hold back now, you let out a heavy sigh as you rubbed your temple.

"Just some of the renovations we had done. Adds a bit of color, don't you think?" Your husband's voice was heard as Lucifer then proceeded to ask who he even was.

And with the blink of an eye, Alastor is now at Lucifer's side. "I'm Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you, sir. Quite a pleasure," he replied as he wiped his hand on his coat.

You were about to slam your head against the wall when you felt someone tugging at your dress. "He's a bad boy," Niffty said in an excited tone, staring at the King of Hell while you just felt a shiver run down your spine in disgust at your friend being lusted upon.

"You might have heard of me from my radio broadcast," Alastor said with a sinister grin on his face as he held his microphone. Knowing him, he loves to be acknowledged and it didn't look like Lucifer was going to give him any of that.

"Nope, I guess that's why Charlie called it the Hazbin Hotel," Lucifer said, emphasizing the 'haz'.

"Hahaha! It was actually my idea!"

"Hahaha! Well, it's not very clever!"

"Haha! Fuck you!"

Hearing that, you immediately made your way to Alastor as you and Charlie interrupted them, earning a look of shock from Lucifer.

"Is it really you?" Lucifer asked, his eyes wide as he looked at you. And before you could even answer, he threw himself at you, nearly crushing you to a second death and leaving you breathless.

"It's been years!" The King of Hell shouted as he let go of you to examine your face. You let out a chuckle, "It has indeed been a long time."

The interaction between the two of you naturally caught everyone's attention, as they all had a confused look on their faces, except for Alastor, who seemed to be losing his patience by the second.

Not even letting you two continue reminiscing, Alastor put an arm around your waist, causing you to gasp in surprise, as he wasn't usually the one to show off your relationship, especially to Overlords and anyone above that position.

"From where do you know him, my love?" Alastor's static-like voice was heard loud and clear as he pulled you even closer.

Before you could answer, Lucifer interrupted. "My love?!" He asked in disbelief and disgust.

"Oh, yes. 'My love,' the beautiful woman I'm so smitten by," Alastor was really putting on a show as he even planted a small kiss on your temple.

Your arm made its way around your husband's back as you pinched his waist in annoyance, eliciting a small static screech from Alastor.

"You really have some nerve, don't you?" you whispered in a caustic tone as your face came closer to his, wanting only him to hear it.

But even with that, the man dressed in red didn't shy away to take it completely somewhere else, "Just a few minutes, my darling. Then we'll have some time alone. Oh, and how she loves it, almost shameless, isn't she?" Alastor went on talking while you cursed him in your head.

You knew he was only doing it to rile Lucifer up, but of course the rest of them didn't know that.

"So Freaky Face does fuck," Angel Dust mused with a grin on his face as Husk slapped him on the back of the head.

"You sleep with that?" Lucifer asked in a disgusted tone as he ran towards you, pulling you out of Alastor's tight grip as he took a few steps away from your husband.

"Are you sure this is what you want for your future? Are you even sure it is worth of dating?" The short man asked you, almost even praying for you.

You apparently forgot to mention that you and Alastor have been married for decades, but you definitely wouldn't tell him that right now.

"It's a he," you simply replied.

"Well, I couldn't care less about it."

[celuere]

hii!!!🩷 i must say this, i've been following your blog since your first ever fic and i'm so so in love with all of them!!! can i please please request a soft smut scene of pregnant reader with arle? reader is just shy about her body and your future dad!arle taking care of her wife is just so 😚😚🤤 thank you and please take care of yourself!!🩷 absolutely adoring your fics!!!

pairing: Arlecchino x pregnant!reader

cw: transfem!arlecchino, fluff, pregnant sex, slight lactation kink, just arle being a sucker for her wife in general

I’m so pathetic for Arlecchino taking care of pregnant wifey, giving me heavy baby fever fr

„There, there… take your time, my love…“, a warm hand sneaked around your own, fingers interlacing as the other one gently guided you by the hip over her lap. Specifically, over her throbbing dick. The leaking cockhead dripping with the proof of her obvious arousal and Arlecchino never had to pull herself together so bad as she did now.

But you were pregnant. And it was you who needed some desperate relief. The libido during your pregnancy kept itself always at a pretty low level- only until recently. It started around two weeks ago with innocent things.

Helping you put your shoes on? You were down. Carrying you up the stairs to your bedroom if your feet hurt? You were down. Gently rubbing the tummy oil over your baby belly after a long day while she tells you about her day? You. Were. Down.

And you thought you went insane in the last two days. You couldn’t even look at her merely talking to one of her agents without wanting to mount her, is this what a heat feels like?

Originally you expected her to decline, maybe even scold you for it to even think about intimacy when you were carrying her child underneath your heart.

Yet, she put her paperwork aside onto the nightstand in an instant.

And now you were already slowly lowering yourself on her cock, prior to having her position you correctly because navigating became a little difficult with a pregnancy belly at the end of its second trimester.

Archons if it weren‘t for her dignity, Arlecchino would have busted a good load already by the time you merely passed her tip. You were so welcoming around her, like home. Only noticing how rapidly her chest rose and sunk back, the Knave was gripping onto her self-restraint with all her might.

„O-oh goodness… P-Peru… a-and you truly like what you‘re seeing…? Y-You don’t have to pretend, r-really…“, an insult would’ve been less offensive to her. To her you looked like a prodigy of beauty, as if Celestia had played favorites when you were created.

„What… a nonsense. You only get more beautiful with each passing day for me, ma cherie… especially with that beautiful belly of yours…”, a hot shiver travelled down your spine as her hand from your hip moved over to the obvious tummy, now rubbing soothing circles with her thumb over your skin. It still baffles her to this day that you‘re actually pregnant- that this is her child you are nurturing inside there. And she was eternally grateful for it. For you.

And you looked so incredibly beautiful to her. A certain glow started to surround you ever since you got wind of the news. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it but it made her want to marry you all over again.

Maybe she just will.

„A-Arle… p-please don’t give me heartattack l-like this…“, you squeezed the cursed hand that was still intertwined with your own, trying to maintain a pace that won’t tire you out immediately but was also satisfying enough for you was harder than you originally imagined. Your swollen breasts only idly moving with your gentle pace, but the embarrassment could’ve been straight from the deepest pits of hell itself when you felt them release the warm milk stored inside them. An annoying occurrence you started noticing with the begin of your libido torture two weeks ago.

„G-god I’m sorry- P-Peruere I am so sorry-”, your voice was faltering every two syllables as you tried to compose the humiliation flooding your body. This was another level of torture.

„Shhhh… this is nothing to apologize for, my flower.“, and she had her lips wrapped around your leaking nipple in no time. Her tongue gliding over the sensitive bud as if she were savoring a gourmet meal. At least you tasted like one to her.

Well. This might be just more fuel to your libido-situation.

[obito-in-disguise]

| Unreceived |

Husband! Itachi × reader

A joke you made doesn't land well with your husband.

332 days, that was how long Itachi had been gone on a mission.

He goes away on missions often, but this was the longest he'd ever been away. You remember the tearful departure like it was yesterday, though a lot of the tears were on your end.

It was like any other day, the two of you were having dinner, there was light conversation here and there but the comfortable silence was greatly appreciated as well. Itachi had been fiddling with his food for a while now, a strange distant look occupying his face.

He had a cute habit of zoning out at the table so you didn't question it much, to you he was just simply lost in thought again.

Perhaps you should have because just a few minutes later, Itachi clears his throat.

"Y/n, maybe we should get that puppy you've talking about" how random, the last time you talked about the puppy was almost a week and a half ago.

"I thought you didn't like animals on the furniture, why the sudden change of heart tachi?"

"...it could keep you company while I'm gone...".

You felt your stomach drop, you should've know better by now. Itachi always lets you know of his impending departure in the most jarring ways possible.

You could feel the heat rushing to your face in panic, he had never suggested getting a pet to keep you company while he was on his missions.

So what was different about this mission? You weren't stupid, even though you tried to push them away every thought in your head was screaming that Itachi was going to be gone for a long, long time.

Your panicked demeanor did nothing to hide your thoughts, so Itachi concludes he might as well just get on with it.

He sighs, reaching across the table to grasp your hand "I will be gone for quite some time dear..."

You hated the way he was looking at you, with such pity, like you would break apart the second he stepped foot out of the house, maybe you would.

You hated how attached you had grown to his presence, to his company, but what was so wrong with being attached to your husband?

"How long?..."

"Eleven months but just know that I will be think-"

"Don't even" you yank your hand out of his, your desperation and anger muddling together to form one big meltdown.

"If you were thinking about me then you wouldn't leave me alone on my own for a year..." damnit, you couldn't even finish the sentence without your voice wobbling.

He needed to know that this was serious and that you weren't just acting out of momentary emotions.

"That's why I suggested the puppy..." he winces as soon as the words leave his mouth. If looks could kill, the glare you were sending him right now would have him six feet under.

"This isnt even your home Itachi, it might as well be a guest house because all you do is come and go!" Itachi's expression hardens, the atmosphere following suite.

"That isn't fair y/n. Everything I've done...I've done for you, to ensure you get to live in a world that is safe because you deserve it. It hurts me just as much to be away from you but this is my duty as a ninja and as a husband" You know he's right, you know it, but it didn't make the situation hurt any less.

"I know, I'm sorry...its just a year is too much...that's...I..." you couldn't even finish your sentence coherently but it was going to royally suck being separated from your husband for a year was your point.

He pulls you into a hug, warm and comforting, delicate and tender before pulling back and holding your face in his large hands

"Since you didn't let me finish my sentence last time, I will be thinking about you every minute and every second of the day. Will you be strong for me?" How unfair, how was he so good at diffusing the situation and making everything ok?

"Can't you just take me with you?..." If this wasn't such a serious moment, Itachi would've burst out laughing.

Even though he always let you win in playfights, your ninja skills were a joke and so therefore you would get obliterated within one day of the mission. He simply smiles and brushes his lips against your forehead in a tender gesture of reassurance

"I cannot in good faith do that, you will be safest here where I know you are far away from the dangers of my work. Now, how about that puppy?..."

So here you were 322 days later, earnestly waiting for his return. You two eventually settled on a Maltese, Itachi promised that with the small white ball of fluff running around, you wouldn't even notice his absence.

If anything, it reminded you of him more, especially when the time for his return drew nearer and nearer.

Itachi had forgotten he was now done with his mission and that he didn't need to be so deathly quiet anymore, as he slipped into the living room after a year of being gone to find you flipping through a book absentmindedly.

He had also apparently forgotten to turn his sharingan off when you turned around and nearly passed away from fright seeing a man standing in the shadows of your doorway, red glowering eyes boring into yours.

"What are you doing Itachi! you scared me half to death!" whatever excitement you had for his return was replaced with fright.

He chuckles stepping out of the doorway and revealing those refined features you had come to love. "Is this the welcome I get after not seeing you in a year?"

You glare at him before ultimately tackling him in a bone crushing hug, you couldn't believe he was actually back. The hug startled him, causing him to stumble a little but he eventually gains his bearing, returning the embrace with equal fervour. "I missed you tachi..."

"I missed you even more my love but I'm home now, I'm home".

After your tearful and frightful reunion, you led him upstairs to the bathroom where you stripped him of his clothes and began to wash him, a tender gesture of intimacy.

You started with his hair which was now much longer, since the last time you saw it while he sits in the bathtub. The water was all the way up to his nose and he sneaks little peeks up at you from your position behind him, bringing his hand up occasionally to wipe away the lather that threatens to get in his eyes.

"I bet you're enjoying this domestic display aren't you? seeing the feared Uchiha Itachi reduced to a pampered husband" he speaks, sitting up slightly to allow the water to come to the level of his chest.

"Very much so yes" no matter how scary eveyone said he was, he was always going to be your baby. "Even the scariest of ninjas need a little pampering and luckily for you, your wife is an expert in that field".

A smirk plays on his lips at your proud declaration, no matter how much he protests he loves when you take care of him. "Very lucky indeed but don't let it get to your head, it'll take a lot more to subdue me".

You scoff at his words, stopping your ministrations to his hair abruptly to place a kiss on his cheek.

You grin in triumph as you watch the dark red blush spread from his neck to the tip of his ears, this paired with his startled glare only add to his adorableness.

"Seems like I should let it get to my head because I know how to make Uchiha Itachi blush" he flushes deeper as you tout your victory, sinking deeper into the water as if to hide his embarrassment.

"Don't get too confident wife, flustering me doesn't make you formidable" you snicker going back to washing his hair

"oh yeah? maybe I should sell my techniques to your enemies, would I be formidable then?"

He snorts at the thought of his enemies kissing him on the cheek after learning about it from you. "That would be very...unpleasant" He says making a face.

"What if I use these tactics against your foes, perhaps we could gain an advantage. The element of surprise often proves decisive in battle." You say playfully thinking up strategies based on your unique brand of combat. "we could create a whole new arsenal of psychological warfare."

He knows you're teasing him but the thought fills Itachi with a sudden sense of discomfort. His jaw clenches involuntarily at the thought of you bestowing such intimate gestures upon other men.

He tries to shake off the irrational jealousy, reminding himself that such thoughts are unfounded and unnecessary. After all, your bond is rooted in trust and mutual respect, not petty insecurity.

Still, the image of another man receiving your affection lingers, fueling a quiet storm inside him. Itachi forces a nonchalant laugh, attempting to dispel the darkness gathering in his head.

"Naturally, those kisses would be reserved solely for me, the fortunate husband who gets to indulge in them daily." He meets your gaze, a hint of desperation underlying his rapidly failing casual demeanor.

You freeze at the sudden change in the atmosphere, was he actually taking you seriously?

"Tachi...I'm your wife, I'm not going to kiss anyone else."

Rising from the bath, Itachi steps out onto the tiles, water droplets glistening on his skin. He turns to face you, his eyes searching yours intently. "I know my love, I just take my responsibility as your husband very seriously."

With deliberate slowness, Itachi reaches out, his wet fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. You sigh, allowing yourself to relax again as you nuzzle into his touch.

"Besides, if I wanted to kiss other guys I would've done it while you were away on your mission...haha."

The tease falls as flat as a thunderclap, Itachi's face darkening ominously at your remark. He recoils slightly, his hand falling away from your skin as if it burned.

The jest, intended to lighten the mood, strikes a nerve in the most unexpected way possible.

As confident as he appeared to be, Itachi had his insecurities as well. Throughout the mission, his mind was plagued with thoughts of you finally having enough of his absence and leaving him for someone else, someone who could be with you all the time.

So it hit him like a truck when you made your little joke about cheating, it was like someone had spoken the words out his worst nightmares to taunt him.

"Is that what you were thinking about while I was gone?" he asks not being able to stop the words if he wanted to, his tone devoid of humor.

Each word is punctuated with an icicle chill delivery, making it clear that even the possibility of infidelity sends shockwaves through his very being. His eyes search yours, scrutinizing every flicker of emotion that crosses your features.

He struggles to keep the violent rage bubbling beneath the surface from boiling over, knowing full well the destructive path it would lead him down.

This night had definitely spiralled, Itachi had spiralled, the pressure of being away for so long was finally crashing down on him and he manifested it in the worst way possible.

How did the atmosphere go from intimate and jestful to raging jealousy and accusations of unfaithfulness. "You can't be serious Itachi, it was a jok-"

"You think this is amusing?" he asks, his voice low and dangerous, each word carefully enunciated.

"You'd do well to remember the sacrifice I made during my time away, y/n. Leaving you, enduring months of hardship and loss, all to ensure yours and the village's safety and yet you imply I should lose you to someone else because of it?"

His voice rises, betraying the anguish simmering beneath the surface.

"What? that's not what I was saying at all!"

He wraps a towel around his waist, suddenly cold from more than just the dampness seeping into the air. His posture remains rigid, shoulders squared in a silent challenge to the unwarranted doubt you cast. "I trust you, y/n. Not everyone deserves that same privilege. So choose your words more carefully in the future."

Your jaw is on the floor by the time he finishes his little rant. How had he managed to take the joke so wrongly? What did he even think of you?

"What the hell Itachi! what was all that? I already told you it was a joke, I would never cheat on you!"

He grabs your wrist tugging you closer, "That remark was inappropriate y/n" he says through gritted teeth, each word carefully enunciated to convey the depth of his displeasure.

"You should refrain from making jests about something so serious in the future." The atmosphere in the room has now deteriorated rapidly, the warm glow of the bath was now replaced by an uncomfortable chill.

Your chest heaves as you yank your wrist out of his grip in anger and quite frankly embarrassment, here was your husband of 5 years lecturing you about infidelity like you were a frivolous lady of the night.

"Get off me! You're clearly out of touch with your emotions, what's gotten into you?" You don't give him a chance to respond before you stomp out of the bathroom, making sure to slam the door as loud as you can.

You needed to be away from him right now, anywhere would do. You thought all those absences and long missions away from home wouldn't affect your relationship but they clearly did. A careful re-evaluation was due.

Next>>

Ya'll my keyboard kept auto correcting Itachi to Hitachi wtf??? Isn't Hitachi the name of that company that makes massage wands but everybody just uses them to get off😭

Click here for more Naruto Shippuden fics and other stories!

[risingode]

loml (loss of my life)

summary: in which ellie's only ever cried in front of you three times. yet the fourth is the most devastating of them all.

pairing: ellie williams x y/n

genre: angst

wc: 962

please comment or message letting me know your thoughts! it helps motivate me :)

once again inspired by taylor swfit :)

a/n: hello everyone! it has been quite a while since i have uploaded on here. i've had a lot of changes in my life since the last time i posted a writing of mine, primarily, i am now in my third (!!!) year of university. crazy to even think about tbh. anyways, i know i primarily write about jungkook from bts, but recently i was gifted a ps5 by my brother in law and the first game i bought was tlou part 2 remastered because i never quite got over the game, or more specifically, ellie williams lmaooooo. anyways pls enjoy this short little drabble, i am excited to get back into writing! and yes, i will keep writing for jungkook as well, i'm just mixing it up a bit!

Ellie Williams was an enigma to the world, and right now, her mystery is unfurling in the cruelest of ways. The room before you is a tapestry of shattered dreams, clothes scattered like discarded promises, each garment a silent witness to the betrayal unfolding before your eyes.

Your heart, once so full of trust and love, feels like it's disintegrating. A heart-shaped void appears on the floor beneath you, a grotesque reflection of the pain ripping through your chest. There, in the dim light, your fiancée lies entwined with another woman, their bodies a stark betrayal of the vows once promised to you.

It's almost absurd, the way a love that once made you feel invincible can crumble so easily, as if it was all a cruel joke. The sight is so surreal that you question its reality, your mind unable to reconcile the image before you with the life you thought you shared. Your feet are rooted to the ground, as if some invisible force has tethered you to this unbearable truth.

The diamond ring on your finger, once a symbol of unending love, now feels like a shackle, its weight a painful reminder of the promises that were so carelessly broken. You stand there, numb and hollow, the ache in your chest growing more insistent with every breath. 

Her voice is a faint murmur, drowned out by the protective haze your mind has wrapped around you, shielding you from the full weight of her betrayal. The woman who promised to stand by you for the rest of your life is now an almost surreal presence, a distant echo as the reality of the situation sinks in.

They scramble to untangle themselves from the bed—your bed. Clothes are hastily pulled on, and you feel a wave of nausea rise up, the bile surging before you can even hope to stop it. The force of the moment propels you into action, and you sprint through the house, your heart pounding with the realization that every corner holds a painful reminder of the life you built together.

The couch you assembled in your first apartment, the dishes you chose together, each one a piece of your shared dream, perfectly matching the white and royal blue of your kitchen. The kitchen where you cooked meals side by side, dancing to songs from artists you discovered together, 

“This one’s the song I want to walk down the aisle to,” you’d said, stirring the pasta as you both cooked together.

Ellie looked up from where she stood, buttering garlic bread. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you replied, smiling as you watched her. “Do you like it?”

Her eyes twinkled with that familiar warmth as she walked over to you, wrapping her arms around your waist. “I don’t care what song you walk down the aisle to,” her tender voice whispers into your ear, “as long as the person standing at the end of it is me.” 

The air is cold against your hot skin, a reminder of how real everything you just experienced was. You couldn’t seem to care, though, almost prying open the door to your poorly parked car. The silence of it deafening as you give yourself time to catch your breath, finally it was quiet. Still, the sounds of their shared moans and whimpers echoes in your mind. The silence doesn’t last long, a loud thump breaks you out of your dissociated trance. Your neck snaps towards your driver’s side window, Ellie’s tearful face is the sight you’re met with. You think back to all the times you’ve seen her cry before. You conclude it’s three. 

The first time was when she was drunk, confessing her feelings, afraid you didn’t feel the same. You had held her close, whispering reassurances. 

“Oh, Ellie, you’re silly to think I don’t like you too.”

The second was when you were rushed to the hospital after a fall at work. The memory is a blur of bright lights and pain, but Ellie’s tear-streaked face as she clung to you is vivid. 

“You scared me so bad, baby,” she had sobbed into your shoulder.

You had tried to lighten the moment, chuckling despite your discomfort. “I just have a mild concussion. The only thing I’m worried about is how I’m going to step back into that office without a bag over my head. I’m so embarrassed.” 

She pulls away to look at your pouting face, noticing a light purple bruise decorating your pretty eye. She frowns, leaning in to leave a kiss on it. “Shut up, you’re never leaving my side again.”

The third and only time you cried alongside her was the day she proposed, her hand shaking in your grasp as she got down on one knee. 

“You’re the love of my life, Y/N. I don’t care how many years pass, or how many hurdles we come across, I will always be there for you. I can’t imagine loving anyone as much as I love you, baby.” 

You’re choking on your tears, your hand feels almost numb at the tightening of her grip. You reach your empty hand up to your chest, willing your beating heart to still. 

“Will you marry me?” 

Now, in the cold car, you’re confronting the fourth time, a cruel twist of fate that you never anticipated would be this moment. You thought the tears would come on your wedding day, as you exchanged vows to love and cherish each other, for better or for worse. The irony makes you laugh, a broken, hollow sound, as you shift the car into reverse.

Ignoring the pleading sobs muffled by the glass, you drive away, each mile feeling like a mile further from the life you once knew and the promises that were so easily shattered.

[hajimeseyo]

You're staring, Izana notices. 

He has no idea who you are, really, but you've been trying (and obviously failing) to sneak subtle glances at him the entire time since he stepped into the convenience store. It's starting to throw him off, just a little. For all he knows, you could be a spy from an opposing gang. Not a very good one, though. 

Your gaze follows him as he walks towards the cashier and pays, and even as he walks towards the exit, plastic bags in hand. He pays it no mind as he feels it shift off him, the sound of the cashier greeting you the last thing he hears as he steps outside the store. 

It didn't seem like you were going to pick a fight with him, he might as well just leave it be. 

Besides, any gang that dared to come after Tenjiku would just be mercilessly crushed under his heel. A spy or two wouldn't change that fact.

The clouds above him rumble, dark and heavy, and he frowns, looking up at the cloudy sky. It would be a pain in the ass if it rained while he was in the middle of walking home. Maybe he could call Kakucho to pick him up. Or he could just buy an umbrella from the store right behind him…

The sound of footsteps snap him out of his thoughts, and he glances to the side to see you, head lowered and lips mouthing numbers as you take inventory of the things in your plastic bag. You don't seem to have noticed him, he notes in amusement.

His theory proves true when you look up, done from counting, and nearly jump at the sight of him staring straight at you. Your eyes are wide, the way you freeze reminding him of a prey caught by its hunter, and he can't stop himself from having a little fun. 

“You were staring at me quite a lot earlier, huh?” He says, relishing in the way your face flushes with embarrassment, and the way you instantly try (and fail) to school it into a look of nonchalance. “Is there a problem?”

You cough awkwardly, eyes suddenly unable to look at him despite being fully glued onto him just minutes ago. Izana watches you squirm, all too used to these shows of discomfort. Based on most of his past interactions, you'll probably come up with some lame excuse on why you were staring at him, then take the first opportunity you have to run away. Or get defensive, and aggressively deny you were doing anything of the sort. People always act the same when confronted with their actions. Izana's used to the same old song and dance. 

He wonders which route you’ll take.

To his surprise, you take neither of them. 

You seem to come to a decision, gaze snapping up to him, nervous but suddenly full of what seems like determination.

“There's no problem, I was just staring because–” You falter a little here, cheeks reddening a little again, before you pull yourself together with a quick shake of the head. “Because, well…your eyes.”

“Hm?” That response certainly wasn’t what he was expecting. “What about them?”

“They're beautiful.”

The words are said so plainly, without a trace of any doubt, and Izana is shocked speechless. 

While he doesn't deny that he's good looking, the word ‘beautiful’ and any part of him have never been together in the same sentence before. That he's heard of, at least. Even if any of his subordinates had the guts to consider him ‘beautiful’, they definitely wouldn’t have the guts to say it to his face. Granted, you probably don’t have any idea who he is, but still. This is definitely a first.

(And even so, the thought that something about him could be beautiful was something that had never occurred to him.)

“...Really?” The words come out in a whisper before he could stop himself.

You nod vigorously, and once again Izana is thrown off by the fact that it's something you're so sure of. As if the thought of it being untrue has never even crossed your mind.

His response seems to appear to you as an invitation to talk more, as you continue speaking, hesitation fading away with each word that comes out of your mouth. “They're just such a beautiful shade of purple, like amethysts. I've never seen anything like it before. And paired with your long white eyelashes and white hair, you look like someone's painting came to life.”

"I don't know if anyone's told you before, but you're really a sight to behold."

There's a light, pleasant feeling in his chest.

He doesn't know what it is. 

“Ah!” You suddenly slap your hands over your mouth. “I spoke too much! God, I must've sounded like a creep, I'm so sorry–”

A laugh cuts you off from your panicked rambling. Izana doesn't quite know why he's laughing, but seeing you panicking over saying the wrong things despite being fully shameless literally right before just seemed so funny, and well, there's such a nice warmth in his chest; indulging in it doesn't hurt, right?

(He doesn’t notice the stars in your eyes as you stare, almost in awe, at his laughing visage.)

“What’s your name?” You’re interesting, he’s decided. It would be a shame to let you just slip away.

“[name].”

He lets out a hum. “[name], huh…got it.” 

“Wait.” You call out to him, just as he turns and begins to walk away. “What’s yours?”

He doesn’t notice, but as he turns back, there’s a genuine, serene smile on his face that would’ve shocked even the noisiest Haitani twins into silence at seeing it on the face of the highly feared leader of Tenjiku.

“Izana. Don’t forget it.”

(He’s scolded nonstop by Kakucho when he shows up at home, soaking wet from the heavy downpour outside.

“It’s not like you to be so careless.” Kakucho huffs, drying his hair roughly with all the fierceness of an Asian mom. “You knew it was going to start raining on your way back, why didn’t you just call for one of us to get you from the store?”

Izana hums unconcernedly. “I was already walking away from the store, I couldn’t just stop and turn back.”

“Huh?? Why the hell not??”

“Don’t be stupid, Kakucho. I would’ve looked so uncool.”

“??????”)

(part 2 here!)

[theonottsbxtch]

WHATS LEFT BEHIND PT.2 | MV1

an: guys my time off is coming to an end, i move to france next week and start my job the week after rip me but in the mean time enjoy this badboy i've been sitting on

summary: when max verstappen left his childhood girlfriend behind to face her career ending injury alone to chase his dreams of being the best bull rider the country has ever seen, he thought it would be easy. except it wasn't, he was back in town and they hated him, for one reason. they hurt their star barrel racer.

wc: 6k

part one

Max pushed open the door to The Rusty Wheel, the familiar creak of its hinges greeting him like an old memory. The low hum of country music drifted from the jukebox in the corner, and the faint smell of spilled beer and worn leather hung in the air. Not much had changed since the last time he’d stepped foot in here, years ago—except, maybe, for the fact that now every pair of eyes in the place was on him.

He ran a hand through his hair and walked over to the bar, pausing only long enough to hang his cowboy hat on one of the hooks by the door. He used to come here every weekend, same as the rest of them. He hadn’t expected the town to change much—but somehow, it felt smaller now. Tighter. Like it didn’t quite fit him anymore.

Before he could take a seat, the owner, Earl, stepped out from behind the bar. Earl was a grizzled old cowboy, his flannel shirt rolled up at the sleeves, a white beard flecked with grey. He stopped in his tracks, wiping his hands on a rag, and gave Max a once-over, his face creasing with disbelief.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Earl muttered, his eyes narrowing. “I didn’t believe it when they told me.”

Max chuckled softly, not missing the edge in Earl’s voice. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“You actually back for good?” Earl asked, still eyeing him like he was trying to decide if he was a mirage.

Max shrugged. “Looks that way.”

Earl grunted, leaning his hands on the bar. “Guess we’ll see how that works out.”

Before Max could reply, a figure appeared beside him, sliding a bottle of beer across the counter. Max glanced up and saw Daniel—his best friend from back in the day—giving him a smirk as he set the beer down. Daniel was leaner now, with a few more lines around his eyes, but he still had the same mischievous glint that had gotten them into trouble as kids.

Daniel raised an eyebrow as he wiped down the bar. “Bold move, man,” he said, shaking his head. “I mean, really bold.”

Max took the beer, the cold glass sweating in his grip. “Figured it was time.”

Daniel leaned against the bar, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, well, half the people in this town think you’ve got some nerve coming back after what you did to her.”

Max’s stomach clenched, but he kept his face neutral. He knew it wouldn’t take long for that topic to come up. “And the other half?” he asked, taking a swig from the bottle.

Daniel snorted. “They’re just in awe of what you’ve done with your career. Hell, I’ll admit it—I followed your rides. Man, some of those bulls you took on… I thought you were insane, but you sure made a name for yourself.”

Max nodded, setting the bottle back down on the bar. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

Daniel tilted his head, studying him. “That right? Because last time I checked, you were in all the magazines, got sponsors throwing money at you, and about a million followers watching your every move. That doesn’t sound like a bad deal.”

Max sighed, leaning his elbows on the bar. “It was great for a while. But the thing is, they don’t see the rest of it. The part where you wake up and don’t know where you are half the time. Or when you’re trying to remember which interviews you’ve already done or whose hand you shook at some event you didn’t even want to go to.” He shook his head, a bitter edge creeping into his voice. “Everyone thinks they want that life until they get it.”

Daniel didn’t say anything for a moment, just watched him, the silence between them hanging heavy. Then, after a beat, he nodded. “So why’d you come back? You finally get sick of signing autographs?”

Max’s eyes drifted to the shelves of dusty bottles behind the bar, memories of a simpler life flooding back. The long nights in places like this, where the biggest problem he had was getting enough cash together to fill his tank. Where people knew him as Max, not Max Verstapppen, the famous bull rider plastered on posters across the country.

“Something like that,” he said quietly. “I was never cut out for that big city stuff. The lights, the cameras… all of it.” He paused, running a hand along the neck of the beer bottle, feeling the condensation slick against his skin. “I missed home. The quiet. The way things made sense out here.”

Daniel chuckled, shaking his head. “Home, huh?” He let out a slow breath. “Don’t get me wrong—I’m glad to see you. Always hoped you’d come back. But you know it’s not going to be easy. People here… they don’t forget.”

Max’s jaw tightened, his grip on the bottle a little firmer. “Yeah, I know.”

Daniel stared at him for a long moment, and then his expression softened, some of the teasing edge fading from his voice. “She’s still hurt, you know. Even if she doesn’t show it. You coming back… it’s gonna stir up a lot of things.”

“I figured that,” Max replied, his voice low, almost resigned. “But I had to come back anyway.”

Daniel nodded, his eyes softening. “Well, I hope you know what you’re doing. You’ve got a lot of work to do, man.”

Max took another swig of beer, the cool liquid doing nothing to settle the unease that had been bubbling in his gut since the moment he’d driven into town. “Trust me,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, “I know.”

The sound of the front door creaking open interrupted the conversation, and Max glanced over his shoulder to see a group of locals walking in, laughing and chatting as they made their way to a corner booth. He recognised some of them, faces he hadn’t seen in years, but he wasn’t ready for more conversations, more questions.

Turning back to Daniel, he nodded toward the bar. “Mind if I hang here for a while?”

Daniel smiled, a knowing glint in his eye. “Stay as long as you need. Just don’t expect the town to make it easy on you.”

Max nodded in appreciation, as he sipped his beer, letting the familiar hum of the bar settle around him. The chatter, the music, the faint clink of bottles—it all felt like a song from a time he thought he’d forgotten. But he hadn’t. Not really.

He’d been running from home for so long, he’d forgotten what it felt like to just stand still. And now that he was back, he wasn’t sure what hurt more—the memories of what he’d lost, or the fear of facing the woman he’d left behind.

______________________________________________________________

The next morning, Max stepped out of his truck, the early sun casting long shadows across the gravel driveway of High Ride Stables, Austin. The familiar scent of hay, leather, and horses filled the air, stirring memories he hadn’t thought of in years. It was a place he knew well—he’d worked here as a kid, mucking out stalls and helping with the horses. But today, the barn felt different, like the weight of his past was waiting for him inside.

He pushed open the large wooden door, the creak announcing his arrival. Inside, horses shuffled in their stalls, and the rhythmic thud of hooves echoed from deeper within. He glanced around, spotting the counter near the back where Leslie, the barn’s owner, was talking to one of the stable hands.

Leslie had been running this barn for as long as he could remember. She was tough as nails, with streaks of grey in her otherwise jet-black hair and a sharp gaze that could cut through any excuse. The stable hands called her “Les” when she wasn’t listening—if she caught them at it, they'd regret it.

When she saw him, her conversation trailed off, and her expression hardened. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the counter, eyeing him like he’d just tracked mud through her pristine barn.

“Well, look who the cat dragged in,” Leslie drawled, raising an eyebrow. “If it ain’t the hometown hero.”

Max tried to smile, but it fell flat. He took off his hat and held it in front of him. “Morning, Les.”

“Morning,” she replied, her tone flat. “What brings you here?”

“I’m lookin’ for work,” he said, stepping closer, but staying on the other side of the counter like it was a barrier between them. Which, in a way, it was.

Leslie’s eyes narrowed. “Work?” She scoffed, shaking her head. “After all that bull riding fame and fortune, you’re back here beggin’ for a job?”

“Not beggin’,” he muttered, his voice low. “Just askin’.”

She pushed herself off the counter, walking around it and standing toe-to-toe with him, hands on her hips. “Same difference.”

“Come on, Les,” he said, frustration creeping into his voice. “You know how it goes. The fame doesn’t last forever. Sponsors move on, injuries pile up… and the money—well, it dwindles. I can’t live off my bull riding winnings for the rest of my life.”

She crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed. “Sounds like a ‘you’ problem, not a ‘me’ problem.”

Max sighed, glancing around the barn, trying to find the right words. “I grew up here, working in this barn. I know horses, I know the work. You know I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty.”

Leslie tilted her head, considering him for a moment. “You really expect me to just hand you a job, after everything?”

He frowned, confused. “After everything?”

She shot him a knowing look. “Don’t play dumb with me, Max. You know who works here.”

His stomach sank, realising where this conversation was heading. Of course, she worked here—why wouldn’t she? It was her world. She’d never left it, never had a reason to. But that didn’t make this any easier.

“I’m not lookin’ to cause any trouble, Les. I just need work,” he said, his voice softening. “I’ll stay out of her way.”

Leslie raised an eyebrow. “Stay out of her way? You can’t just waltz back into this town, askin’ for a job, and think you can just avoid her. This is a small town, boy, not some city where you can hide from the people you’ve wronged.”

Max winced at the word “wronged.” It was blunt, but he couldn’t argue with it. He had wronged her. Maybe more than he even realised.

He took a deep breath, meeting Leslie’s gaze. “I know I messed up. I know I hurt her. But… I need this job, Les. Please.”

Leslie studied him for a long moment, her face unreadable. Then, she turned and walked back to the counter, rummaging through a drawer before pulling out a small notepad. She scribbled something down on it, then tore off the piece of paper and held it out to him.

“Here’s the deal,” she said, her voice cool and matter-of-fact. “I’ll give you a job if you go apologise to her. And not just any apology—she has to forgive you.”

Max stared at her, not taking the paper. His heart raced, a mixture of panic and disbelief. “Les, that’s impossible.”

Leslie crossed her arms again, looking at him with the same steel-eyed determination she always had. “Well, if you think it’s impossible, you don’t want this job bad enough.”

His eyes flicked to the paper in her hand, knowing exactly what was written on it. He didn’t need to look to know it was her address.

“You know she’s not gonna forgive me,” he said quietly, feeling the weight of the past like a stone in his gut.

Leslie gave him a half-smile, but there was no softness in it. “Well, you better get working, boy.”

Max finally took the paper from her hand, the weight of it feeling heavier than it should. He looked down at the address, familiar yet distant, as if it belonged to another lifetime.

“I’m serious,” Leslie said, her voice softening just a bit. “You want a job here? You’ve gotta make things right with her. I won’t have you causing more mess in this barn—or in this town. Either she forgives you, or you pack your bags and keep drivin’.”

Max swallowed hard, tucking the paper into his back pocket. He wanted to argue, to tell her that there was no way in hell she’d ever forgive him. But he knew Leslie well enough to know that there was no arguing with her.

He nodded once, stiffly. “Alright. I’ll… I’ll try.”

Leslie smirked, her eyes gleaming with something he couldn’t quite place. “Good luck. You’ll need it.”

As he turned to leave, the barn door creaked open behind him, and for a split second, his heart froze. He half-expected to see her there, standing in the doorway, glaring at him like she had on that road. But it was just another worker, coming in to start the day.

Max let out a breath, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. It had been one thing to face her the first time, in the heat of the moment. But now… now he had to go, hat in hand, and ask her to forgive him. To admit he was wrong. To dig up all the things he’d been trying to bury for years.

He shoved his hat back on his head and walked out of the barn, the piece of paper burning a hole in his pocket. The road ahead of him felt longer than it had ever been.

The next day, Max stood at the front steps of the small house, nerves twisting in his stomach like a coiled rope. He stared at the chipped paint on the door, feeling the weight of years pressing down on him. This was the house he’d been avoiding ever since he set foot back in town. And now, here he was—about to knock.

He took a deep breath, raising his fist and rapping his knuckles on the door. The sound echoed in the still morning air, louder than it had any right to be. For a moment, he thought maybe she wouldn’t answer, maybe he could just turn around and—

The door swung open.

She stood in the doorway, her eyes narrowing the second she saw him. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and she wore an old flannel shirt that he recognised—one she stole off of him when they were kids. She didn’t look surprised to see him. If anything, she looked like she’d been expecting him.

“Nope,” she said flatly, her hand already on the door, ready to slam it shut. “Not happening.”

“Wait,” Max said, holding up his hands. “Just… just hear me out for a minute.”

“I don’t think I need to,” she shot back, her voice cold. “I’ve already heard enough.”

“Darling, please—”

“Do not call me ‘darling,’” she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut. Her eyes flashed with anger, and Max felt the sting of it, like a whip cracking against his skin. “You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

Max took a step back, raising his hands defensively. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“You didn’t mean?” she interrupted, her voice rising, filled with a raw, seething rage that had been simmering for eight long years. “What, Max? You didn’t mean to leave me in a hospital bed without a word? You didn’t mean to disappear without so much as a goddamn goodbye?”

He swallowed hard, the guilt gnawing at him like it always did when he thought about that day. “I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to face you.”

She let out a bitter laugh, crossing her arms over her chest as if to protect herself from him. “So, you just ran? That’s your excuse?”

“I wasn’t running,” Max muttered, but the words felt hollow even to him. He’d been running for years—he knew it, and so did she.

“Bullshit,” she spat, her eyes blazing. “You’ve been running your whole damn life. When things get hard, you don’t face them—you just pack your bags and leave. That’s what you did to me, and that’s what you’ve been doing ever since.”

He opened his mouth to argue, to tell her that wasn’t true, but the words died in his throat. She wasn’t wrong. He had run. He’d run the second things got complicated, the second he felt like he was losing control.

“I thought I was doing what was best,” he said finally, his voice quieter, less sure. “I thought you’d hate me if I stayed.”

Her jaw clenched, and she took a step forward, her fists balled at her sides. “You really think I could’ve hated you?” she said, her voice trembling with the weight of years of hurt. “You think I wanted you to just leave me behind like I didn’t matter?”

“I didn’t think I was enough for you!” Max burst out, the frustration and regret spilling out of him. “You were laid up in a hospital bed because of that fall, and I was getting calls about sponsors and competitions. I was torn in two, and I didn’t know what to do! I thought if I stayed, you’d see me as some reminder of what you’d lost, of the future we’d been planning and couldn’t have anymore.”

Her eyes widened, and for a second, the anger flickered, replaced by something else—something rawer, more vulnerable. “So, what? You thought I’d hate you? That I wouldn’t want you anymore? Out of pity?” She shook her head, stepping back from him as if the very thought disgusted her. “Is that what you really think of me?”

Max dragged a hand through his hair, hating how badly this conversation was going. “It wasn’t like that,” he said, his voice pleading now. “I didn’t want to be a burden. You’d just lost everything, and I didn’t want to remind you of the future you couldn’t have anymore. You deserved better than a guy who was barely hanging on.”

“Barely hanging on?” She seethed, her fists trembling. “You didn’t give me the chance to decide that! You didn’t even try to talk to me, to ask me what I wanted. You made that choice for me.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing!” Max shouted back, his frustration boiling over. “I thought if I walked away, you’d move on. You’d be better off without me, and I could… I could disappear before you realised I wasn’t enough.”

She stared at him, her chest heaving, her eyes burning with a mixture of rage and heartbreak. “You think leaving was easier for me? You think watching you drive off without a word made me better off?”

“I wasn’t strong enough to stay,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I thought I’d hurt you more by sticking around. I thought you’d hate me, that you’d look at me and see someone who was staying out of pity.”

“God, Max,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You don’t even get it, do you?”

He swallowed hard, the weight of her words crushing him. “Then tell me,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Tell me what I didn’t see.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, her breath shaky as she tried to compose herself. When she opened them again, there was no anger left—just hurt. “You were everything to me. Everything. And you took that away because you were scared. You left me in that hospital bed, and you didn’t even let me fight for us. You made that choice, and I had to live with it.”

Max felt his chest tighten, the guilt and regret almost suffocating. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so damn sorry.”

Her lip trembled, and for a moment, she looked like she might break. But then, just as quickly, she straightened up, hardening herself again. “Sorry doesn’t fix eight years, Max. Sorry doesn’t undo the fact that you abandoned me when I needed you most.”

He took a step closer, desperate to bridge the distance between them. “I’m here now. I want to make it right.”

She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “It’s not that easy. You don’t get to just walk back into my life and pretend like nothing happened.”

“I’m not asking you to forget,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I know I can’t fix what I did. But I want to try. Please, just give me a chance.”

She stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, without another word, she stepped back inside and slammed the door in his face.

Max stood there, staring at the closed door, the sound of it still ringing in his ears. The weight of her words, the pain he’d caused, hung heavy in the air around him.

He slipped his hat back on, the brim casting a shadow over his eyes. As he turned and walked back to his truck, the gravel crunching beneath his boots, he realised something: he’d always been running. But for the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure if he could ever stop.

That night, Max couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned, the weight of her words pressing on his chest like a stone. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face—angry, hurt, and accusing. It had been easier when he thought he was protecting her by leaving. Now, after their argument, it was clear that all he’d done was rip open a wound neither of them had been able to heal.

With a frustrated groan, he threw off the blankets and sat up in bed. Sleep wasn’t coming—not tonight. He rubbed a hand over his face and glanced at the clock. It was just after midnight, but it felt like the hours were crawling by, leaving him trapped with his thoughts.

His mind wandered to the only place that ever brought him a sense of calm: the rodeo. The old training grounds on the outskirts of town where he’d spent countless nights like this, working out his frustrations with the one thing he understood—bull riding. He hadn’t been back there in years, but tonight, it felt like the only place he could go to clear his head.

Throwing on a pair of jeans and his boots, Max grabbed his jacket and slipped out of the house, the cool night air hitting his face as he headed to his truck.

The rodeo grounds were quiet when he pulled up, the faint glow of the moon casting long shadows over the empty bleachers. The scent of dirt and leather filled his lungs, familiar and comforting in a way that nothing else had been since he’d come back to town. He walked toward the arena, the sounds of his boots crunching on gravel the only thing breaking the silence.

As he got closer, something caught his eye. Movement in the arena. At first, he thought it was just his mind playing tricks on him, but then he saw her.

She was on horseback, weaving through the barrels in the dim moonlight, her movements graceful and precise. It was like watching a memory come to life. She moved with a fluidity that made it look effortless, but Max knew better. He’d seen the hours she used to put in, the work that went into every sharp turn, every quick burst of speed. She hadn’t lost her touch.

He stopped at the edge of the arena, standing just out of sight, not wanting to disturb her. For a moment, he just watched, his chest tightening as he remembered how much she loved this—how much they had loved this world together.

Then, it happened. As she rounded the last barrel, something went wrong. Maybe her horse misstepped, maybe she pushed too hard, but in an instant, she was thrown off, hitting the ground hard. Her horse skittered to the side, startled by the fall.

Before he could stop himself, Max was moving. He vaulted over the fence and ran toward her, his heart pounding in his chest. She was sitting up by the time he reached her, dusting off her jeans with a wince.

“Who the fuck did I piss off in my past life for you to be the one to find me?” she muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she glanced up at him.

Max skidded to a halt, a little breathless, and held up his hands in surrender. “I was just passing by. You okay?”

She shot him a glare that could’ve melted steel. “Like you care.”

He didn’t argue, just crouched down beside her, unsure of what else to do. “How can I help?”

“Help?” She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “You really think you can help now, after everything?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, his voice softer than before. “But I’m trying.”

She rolled her eyes, but her usual fire seemed to be dimmed, just a little. “Doctor’s orders,” she said finally, wincing as she shifted her leg. “You wanna help? Raise my leg and keep it elevated for fifteen minutes.”

Max hesitated for a moment, unsure if she was messing with him or not. But the way she was holding her side, the tightness in her face, told him this was real.

He nodded and carefully slid his arm under her leg, lifting it gently and resting it on his knee. She didn’t protest, but she also didn’t look at him. They sat there in silence, the tension between them as thick as the night air.

The minutes dragged by, and Max could feel every second of it. He kept his gaze focused on the ground, resisting the urge to say something—anything—to break the silence. But she was the one who spoke first.

“You should’ve stayed gone,” she said quietly, her voice lacking the venom it usually held.

Max swallowed hard, his throat dry. “I couldn’t.”

“You mean you didn’t want to. Big difference.” She still wasn’t looking at him, her focus trained on the darkened arena ahead of them.

He shifted slightly, careful not to jostle her leg. “I missed this place,” he said after a long pause. “Missed the people. Missed… you.”

She scoffed, but there was less bite to it. “You missed me? Is that why you didn’t call for eight years? ‘Cause you missed me?”

“I didn’t know how,” he admitted, his voice low. “I thought you’d moved on. I thought it was easier for you if I wasn’t in the picture.”

“Easier?” She let out a humourless laugh. “Do you even hear yourself, Max? You just disappeared. You didn’t even give me the chance to move on, to deal with any of it. You just left, and I had to pick up the pieces.”

He clenched his jaw, the guilt settling deep in his chest. “I thought I was doing what was best.”

“Stop saying that,” she snapped, finally turning to look at him. Her eyes were filled with anger, but underneath it was something else—something softer, more vulnerable. “You keep saying that like it was some noble thing you did, but all you did was make a decision for both of us. You never even asked me what I wanted.”

Max opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. She was right. He hadn’t asked. He’d just assumed.

They fell into silence again, the weight of the unspoken things between them pressing down like a heavy fog.

After what felt like forever, she sighed, leaning back against the fence, her leg still resting on his knee. “You know,” she said quietly, “there was a time when I would’ve given anything to hear you say you missed me. But now… I don’t even know what to do with that.”

Max looked at her, his chest tightening at the sight of her so close, yet so far away. “I’m trying,” he said softly. “I know I messed up. I know I can’t fix what I did, but I’m here now. I want to make it right.”

She didn’t respond, just stared out at the empty arena, her face unreadable.

The silence stretched between them, and Max could feel the weight of it settling in his bones. He wanted to say more, to tell her everything that had been building inside him for years. But the words felt too small, too insignificant for the damage he’d caused.

After a long while, she spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know if it’s enough.”

Max’s heart clenched, but he nodded. “I get that,” he said quietly. “But I’m not going anywhere this time.”

She didn’t say anything else, and the two of them sat there in the quiet of the rodeo grounds, with nothing but the stars and the distant sounds of the horses to keep them company.

For the first time in years, it wasn’t the silence that felt unbearable. It was the hope buried somewhere beneath it.

She shifted slightly, wincing a bit as she adjusted her leg on his knee. Max kept his hold steady, though every muscle in him was tense. He was waiting, unsure if she’d kick him out of her life again or keep him suspended in this strange limbo they found themselves in.

“What was it like?” she asked suddenly, her voice soft but cutting through the stillness. She didn’t look at him, just kept her eyes trained on the horizon, as if the answer was out there somewhere in the night sky. “To make it big? To live that life?”

Max glanced at her, surprised by the question. For a moment, he wasn’t sure how to respond. His instinct was to downplay it, to gloss over the highs and lows like he had so many times before when people asked. But this wasn’t just anyone asking—it was her.

He took a deep breath. “It was everything I thought it’d be,” he started, his voice low. “At first, anyway. The crowds, the money, the fame… it was wild. Everything moved so fast. One minute I was just this kid from nowhere, the next I was on posters, doing interviews, getting invited to places I’d never even dreamed of.”

He paused, rubbing the back of his neck as the memories flooded back. “The adrenaline—it’s like nothing else. Every ride, every victory, it felt like I was on top of the world. But the crashes… they’re just as big. Bigger, even.”

She listened quietly, her face unreadable. He wasn’t sure if she cared or if she was just being polite, but he kept going, needing to get it out.

“There were nights when I’d lie awake in a hotel room, hundreds of miles from home, and wonder what the hell I was doing,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “I was surrounded by people all the time, but I never felt more alone. It was like… like I was chasing something, and no matter how far I got, I couldn’t catch it. Every high came with a low, and after a while, the lows started outweighing everything else.”

She still didn’t say anything, her eyes fixed on the stars. He looked down at the ground, the dirt beneath his boots feeling more real than anything had in a long time.

“I got tired of it,” he confessed after a long pause. “Tired of the crowds, the noise, the pressure to be something I wasn’t sure I wanted to be anymore. I missed this place. I missed…” He trailed off, but she didn’t need him to finish the sentence. They both knew what he meant.

Finally, she turned her head slightly, her eyes finding his. “And you think you can just come back?” she asked, her voice steady but tinged with something bitter, something hurt. “After all of that? Just walk back into this life like nothing happened?”

Max swallowed hard. “No,” he said quietly. “I don’t think that. I know I can’t just… fix things. I’m not here to pretend that the past didn’t happen.”

She looked at him for a long moment, her gaze sharp, cutting through the quiet. “Why should I trust you?”

He didn’t flinch at the question. He’d been expecting it, waiting for it.

“You don’t have to,” he answered honestly, meeting her eyes. “I know I haven’t earned that. Not yet. Maybe not ever.”

Her jaw clenched, and she turned her gaze back to the arena. “You hurt me, Max. You didn’t just leave—you disappeared. Like I meant nothing.”

“I know,” he whispered, the words heavy with regret. “And I’m so damn sorry. If I could take it all back, I would.”

“Sorry isn’t enough,” she said, her voice trembling just slightly. “You don’t get to come back after eight years and expect me to forget what that felt like.”

He nodded, his throat tight. “I’m not asking you to forget. Or even to forgive me right away. I just want a chance to make things right. To prove that I’m not that guy anymore.”

She didn’t respond, just sat there in the silence, her leg still resting on his knee. It was a strange kind of intimacy—one built on years of unresolved hurt, but also on something deeper. Something neither of them wanted to name yet.

After a while, she sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “Nothing ever changed here, you know,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper. “While you were out there, living that big life, everything just… stayed the same. The same people, the same rodeos, the same barns. It was like I was stuck while you were off becoming someone else.”

Max’s chest tightened at her words. He couldn’t imagine what that must’ve felt like, to watch the world move on without her, to feel left behind. And worse, to know he was part of the reason she felt that way.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, the words feeling inadequate, but it was all he had. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t want to leave you stuck. I thought you’d move on. I thought you’d—”

“Stop thinking,” she cut in, her voice sharp again, though there was a weariness in her eyes. “You keep telling yourself you did what was best for me, but you never asked me what I wanted. You just decided for both of us.”

He nodded, taking the hit. She was right, and he wasn’t going to argue with that.

She shifted again, pulling her leg off his knee and standing up, brushing the dirt off her jeans. Max stood too, though he kept his distance, unsure of what to do next. The tension between them was still there, heavy and thick, but something had changed. There was a crack in the wall she’d built around herself, just a small one, but it was there.

“Look,” she said after a long pause, her voice softer now. “I don’t know what you expect to happen. I don’t know if I can ever trust you again. But… I don’t hate you. Not anymore. I thought I did, for a long time. But it’s just… it’s hard to hate someone you used to love that much.”

His heart stuttered in his chest at the word “love.” Even though it was in the past tense, it still felt like a lifeline.

“I don’t expect anything,” he said quietly. “I just want to be here. Whatever that looks like.”

She gave him a long look, her eyes searching his face as if she was trying to figure out if he was telling the truth. Finally, she nodded, just once. “We’ll see.”

It wasn’t a promise. It wasn’t even close. But it was something.

She turned and started walking toward her truck, her steps slow, like she was still testing how much she could trust the ground beneath her.

Max watched her go, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, the weight of the past still pressing on him. But for the first time in a long time, he felt like maybe, just maybe, he had a chance.

And he wasn’t going to waste it.

part three

[catboybiologist]

Hey it's a life update that probably no one cared about or asked for

tl;dr: I'm likely quitting my PhD via mastering out, and leaving my program in June.

sappy, overly emotional vent/explanation:

I'm wrapping up my first quarter as an out-of-the-closet trans woman. I've had some serious conversations about where me and my work stand. This was always my intention after coming back from my summer hiatus/social transition: see how "reentry" works, and then assess from there.

For those that don't know, PhDs in the US take 5-7 years. Oftentimes, however, they either give you a master's along the way, or give you an option to quit halfway through with a master's. I'm in my 3rd year and have more than enough to use that option. I've toyed with this idea before, but it feels a bit different now. Last year, I was burned out from science, my project was failing, and I was under constant stress of boymoding and remaining in the closet. Now, I'm out and proud, and I deeply love my project and find it exciting. I fixed some things.

Unfortunately, I have a recurrent problem. Whenever something goes wrong in my life, the first thing to drop off is my ability to drive forward my own thesis project in a coherent way. What the actual problems are vary, but that motif stays the same. I could list off what's going on right now, but I think y'all can assume a bit of what a mid-20s, broke, recently transitioned trans woman in the US is going through at the moment. There's a lot of specifics, of course, but I'm not at liberty to say most of it.

So I'm looking around and realizing I have scraps of half finished projects, I've given support and help for other people's projects.... and then made little progress on my actual thesis. It's enough to pull together into a master's thesis, and maybe even another paper or two, but.... not a PhD.

And then there's the other side of it. The nicer reasons. Could I stay here, buckle down, maybe add years to my degree, and get through it? Probably. But honestly? I don't really want to put myself through that now. It used to be that academics was all I had. It was all my failures and all my successes. It's what I threw myself at, because I genuinely had nothing else going on. Since transitioning, the world seems so much more beautiful and rich, so much more complex and vast, with so much more to do in it. I've even had more negative experiences unrelated to academia, and while they've sucked, they've shown me that life is so much bigger than it was before.

To be blunt, to experience more of my life... it helps to have money, and it helps to have career stability. It's not the only factor by far, but certainly one defining moment when making this decision was trying to create a timeline and budget for transition related surgeries, and realizing that its near impossible in grad school.

Not to be dramatic, but I've also had a couple extremely jarring experiences in the past year that are reminded me that life is short. And I want at least some time to enjoy it.

My heart is honestly broken here, and I'm feeling extremely emotional about this. I love my lab, my colleagues, the environment of doing research, and my project. But I'm realizing that it might not be viable, or what makes me the happiest at the moment. I'm genuinely a bit distraught, and I've been crying a lot for the past few days. A lot of me feels like this is what I am, and this is what I'm good for. That I'm failing myself and every mentor that got me here. Some part of me knows that isn't true, some part of me can't let go of those feelings.

But, I know this doesn't mean "never". So many of the people in my program are significantly older than me, coming back later in life to get their degrees. I'm honestly almost positive that I'll come back to a PhD someday if I quit now. In my 30s or beyond, I think that I'll be able equipped to handle it much better.

So what's next?

Obviously, nothing is decided, and I'm just spitballing here. But I'm honestly shocked at how many viable options I have, in a very good way. A cursory scroll of Indeed was honestly therapeutic. As I said, I still love the academic research environment. I just need more money and stability, and would prefer to have a slightly different relationship to the work I do than a thesis project. Ideally, I would want to be a staff researcher in an institute or academic lab. That lets me keep a lot of the things I like about what I do now, while also making literally 2-3 times the money and having a more stable position.There's positions out there that maximize the contexts I'm the strongest and happiest with, while still being more steady and paying more. Hell, even if my responsibilities were identical, but I had more pay, I could probably more effectively address the personal problems I'm going through right now. I'm gonna stay in California for a lot of reasons, and I'm lucky that there's so many options within the state.

I have a bit of an oddball set of experience. I'll actually have two nonoverlapping master's if I do this. I already have a MS in bioinformatics, which was granted by a CS department. But my current program is in more "pure" molecular and cell biology. I'll have 5 years of grad school, 8.5 years of research experience if I include undergrad research, and instead of a PhD, 2 MSs. Which is kinda funny. But it think it helps represent my experience for what it is. I like to consider myself a "full stack" bioinformaticist- someone who can do both the experimental and analysis portions of experiments that produce large data. Hopefully I'll be able to put that to good use.

I have a lot of professional contacts that I'll slowly be reaching out to over the course of the next 6 months while I tie things up. I know this is a wildshot on tumblr of all places, but if anyone has any recommendations, advice, or contacts, I'm all ears- both for professional and job hunt related things, and also the emotional state I'm in right now.

Thank you to everyone that's made up this wonderful community we have online. I hope I'm not letting anyone down. I'll still be a biologist, I'll still be my trans self. I just won't be "Doctor" anytime soon.

[liberty-barnes]

at your altar, i will pray

Singla Father!Arthur Leclerc x Deity!Female!Reader

Summary: Centuries after the old gods have long fallen out of modern worship, a little girl stumbles upon a well and prays to a mythical goddess for comfort.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of very light childhood bullying, mentions of child abandonment by arthur's baby mama, arthur has no idea what to do when faced with a goddess and decides to be stupid about it but he grows a brain eventually

Word Count: 4.3k words (oops)

Estimated Reading Time: 17 minutes

A/N: okay so I've been wanting to write this one for ages!! For those of you who don't know, I'm a Hellenic Polytheist (so I worship the old Greek gods) and I based my goddess version of (Y/n) off a mix of Persephone, Demeter, and (the first goddess I worshipped) Aphrodite! Hope you guys like this one <3

Masterlists | Formula One RI Masterlist | Taglist

Her temple had been empty for quite a while. It was practically in ruins. The old gods were all but forgotten these days, only mentioned every now and then in legends and myths, words tainted with scepticism. 

She stared at the well, the source of her power. Once majestic and radiant, it was now all but crumbling, covered in moss, the water contaminated with algae. The last offering it received had been decades ago, a young couple who had prayed to the universe for their love to last. They’d called it a ‘wishing well’, and the prayer was a joke more than anything. It hadn’t even been directed at her. But the coin they threw in was an offering nonetheless. For a moment, she felt some energy return to her. She’d blessed that couple and their offspring, but they hadn’t returned since.

It was hard to keep track of time, nowadays. It always is, for immortal beings, but it seemed to have only gotten worse. She could feel herself start to fade. After all, worship is a two-way street: what use is a deity if no one believes in them?

She stared at the little family of rabbits that had taken residence in her temple. What once were two majestic pillars had collapsed and created a little burrow, perfect for them to settle in and keep safe from the elements. She waved her hand, growing some dandelions for them to feed on. The kits were still young, barely a month old; it would be best for the mother not to have to stray far to have food. Even that small action felt exhausting to her. Once upon a time, she could turn acres of barren land into flowering fields without breaking a sweat. Now, a single patch of flowers made her eyes flutter in exhaustion.

She took a deep breath, trying to connect to the forest around her. It was getting harder and harder, but she refused to let it go. This forest was her home, it was the seat of her power; it was her duty and privilege to keep it safe.

A child’s soft cries made their way to her, carried by the wind. She could feel their life force, getting closer and closer, travelling through the trees. Her heart clenched in her chest. A child’s pain never lost its impact.

She hurried behind one of the few pillars left standing, casting a quick glamour on herself so she wouldn’t be seen. The world went dark for a little bit as the effort needed for the spell made her faint, but she blinked through it when she heard footsteps stop.

There was a little girl leaning on her well. Her hair was hastily pulled back into two blonde ponytails, although the left one was so low it might as well be a pigtail instead. Her face was red from the tears, and her pink dress was stained with mud. Upon closer inspection, there was also a stick in her hair. And some leaves. Was that a hazelnut shell?

The child looked around the bricks making up the well, brushing some of the dirt and moss off them, until she found the one she was looking for.

A young couple had carved their initials on that stone. The last ones to come into her temple. The last ones to make an offering to her.

She had spent hours staring at the crudely carved P + H surrounded by an uneven heart, tracing the lines with her fingers, wondering what had happened to the young couple she had blessed. Now, forty years later, a little blond girl was mirroring her very actions.

“Mamie told me about this well. She said that when she and Papie were young, they made a wish to stay together for the rest of their lives, and to have children and be very happy.”

Oh. This was their granddaughter. She could see the resemblance if she squinted. In the upturn of her mouth, the sweetness of her voice.

“It worked for them. Papie said it was a… a conci- a coinence- um-”

Coincidence, she whispered.

“A coincidence. But Mamie did some research. She found out that a long long time ago, this was a temple. It was built for a… um, a pagan goddess. I don’t know what pagan means… But she told me the stories. Her name was (Y/n). She was the goddess of love, beauty, spring and, um… there was another one. I can’t remember now. But Mamie always said that Lady (Y/n) kept us safe.”

She sighed, hearing those words, her eyes filling with tears. That woman had remembered her. She believed. Even if she hadn’t returned since that night, she still believed. Enough that she’d passed it on to her granddaughter.

“I wanna believe that you’re real, Lady (Y/n). But it’s hard. Papie’s not here anymore. Papa says he’s in heaven. Mamie says it’s got nothing to do with you, cause even you can’t stop death. But… But you’re supposed to be the goddess of love, too. And if you could make Mamie and Papie love each other forever then… Why couldn’t you make my Mommy love me too?”

(Y/n) wanted to run to her. Pull her close. Tell her that, for all her abilities, she couldn’t actually create love, only nurture what was already there. She wanted to apologise, for what, she wasn’t sure.

“I started the big kid school today. CP. I was really excited, you know. Papa says it’s where I’ll learn to read, write, and do maths. I like learning. And I was excited to make friends. But… Everyone at school talks about their mommies. And I don’t have one. I don’t even know what she looks like. Whenever I think of mom… Well, most of the time, I just think of you. I think it’s because Mamie’s told me so many stories. I don’t know. It’s weird.”

The little girl got up, both hands on the edge of the well, and she looked down at the murky water.

“I wanna have a mommy too. I wish you could be my mommy, Lady (Y/n).”

She cried. A tear fell from her eye into the well’s water, and (Y/n) felt her powers surge. And another. And another. She felt dizzy with it, the sudden revival of her senses, and she remained sitting, trying to breathe through the waves and waves of euphoric power. Through the light spots dancing in front of her eyes, she could see the little girl lay down at the base of the well, rest her head on her arms, tears still falling onto the ground, adding to her powers.

When the little girl’s tears stopped and she finally fell asleep, it still took a good ten minutes for (Y/n)’s body to stop shaking. Her very being was buzzing with power, mind reeling from the most powerful offering she’d received in millennia.

She rid herself of the glamour, walking closer to the little girl. A few wisps of hair had fallen in front of her eyes and she gently pushed them away. The stone she was lying on had to be uncomfortable. And her temple was in dire need of some tender loving care. Time to get to work.

—

By the time the little girl started to stir, the place had been completely refurbished. The stone pillars had been put together and raised once again, walls rebuilt, and she’d even modernised it a bit by adding stained glass skylights on the roof, the colours reflecting on the interior. Her well stood at the centre of the temple, now gleaming and once again filled with clear water, though the carved initials of that sweet couple remained. The little family of bunnies has been given a nice nest, with more than enough food and water. Flowers filled the room and hung down from the roof, covering parts of the wall and floor, leaving a wonderful aroma of springtime. 

(Y/n) walked over to the newly built bed, feather soft, and sat on the edge, running her hands through the little girl’s hair to fully rouse her out of sleep.

Her eyes fluttered open, green as the forest around them, but with some flecks of gold adding depth. It took a few seconds for the situation to sink in, for her to realise that she was actually awake and not dreaming.

“Good morning, my love.”

Actually, it was more like evening. The sun had started to set a few minutes ago, the golden hour shining through the skylights.

“Where am I?”

She sat up on the bed, looking around the temple.

“Why, you’re home.”

For some reason, the girl seemed confused at that.

“I don’t understand.”

(Y/n) smiled at her, gently brushing her fingers through her blonde hair, mussed up from sleep.

“You came into my temple and prayed for me. Your tears were the strongest offering I’ve received since the old gods were the norm. How could I refuse such a sweet prayer from my daughter?”

The smile she got in return was blinding, and she giggled as the little girl practically tackled her in a hug.

“I knew it! I knew you were real! I knew you’d come for me if I asked.”

“Of course I did, my little daffodil. I will always come to you when you ask.”

—-—

Arthur couldn’t explain what he was feeling. Anguish, panic, desperation, anger, depression, helplessness. All at once. How could he have been so stupid? He harshly pushed away the branches of the overgrown forest no one ever went into, but it was his last chance.

“Papa, why don’t I have a mommy like my friends?”

He knew he should’ve kept his mouth shut. Told a little white lie. She was seven years old. He should’ve known she wouldn’t take the news well.

“Um, well… It’s complicated, mon coeur. Your mommy, she just… She wasn’t ready to be a mom. So we decided that it would be best if you just stayed with me. But you don’t need a mommy, cause I love you enough for the two of us, okay?”

In hindsight, his speech was… Well, it was shit. He’d been blindsided, and when combined with the sleep deprivation of a weekend of racing with not nearly enough sleep… It was bad. When his daughter said she needed a moment, he’d assumed she’d simply walked the twenty meters to her grandmother’s house, right next door. She’d done it often enough, gone to his mother when she needed time to process things, or someone to talk it through with that wasn’t him. It never crossed his mind that she’d go anywhere else, she knew she wasn’t meant to. She was a good kid. She’d never broken a rule before.

But, five hours later, they still hadn’t found her. Arthur called his mother after a short hour of napping, asking if he should make dinner or if his daughter wanted to stay over for the night. But Pascale hadn’t seen her all day.

The forest was his last resort.

“I told her stories of a goddess that lived in that forest, and the well your father and I wished upon when we were young. She always loved to hear stories about Lady (Y/n). Maybe she went looking for it.”

It was stupid.

It was all he had left.

He breathed through the panic clawing at his chest, walking aimlessly around, hoping against all hope that some higher power or whatever would lead him to his daughter.

Please, she’s all I have.

There was a rough-looking path in front of him. Leaves flattened on the ground, flowers lining the sides. The branches were still overgrown but this seemed like his best chance. So he followed it. He didn’t know what to expect. But he sure as hell knew it wasn’t a temple that looked like it had materialised in the middle of the forest.

The walls were a gleaming ivory colour, with columns decorating it. Ivy climbed the walls, but it didn’t look like it had been left to grow on an abandoned building; it looked like it belonged there, like the vegetation served to connect the temple to nature around it. The sun gleamed off the rooftop, and the heavy door was closed. He walked up to it, took a deep breath, and pushed it open.

“Melina!”

He ran to her, pulled her off the stool she was sitting on, and hugged her to his chest. 

“Thank fuck you’re okay.”

Finally, he could breathe again.

“Papa, you said a bad word. Also, you’re ruining my hair.”

He pulled away, actually looking at her for the first time in five hours. He took in the way her hair was expertly braided, a flower crown on her head and little flowers littering her braided hair. She almost seemed to glow golden, and her outfit–

“Princesse, what happened to the dress Aunt Charlotte got you?”

What she was wearing was decidedly not the flowery pink dress his sister-in-law had bought her. It was white, in a fabric so delicate he couldn’t remember ever touching anything so soft, and it reminded him of a Greek chiton. Draped over it was a pink fabric, delicately embroidered with gold accents. The sandals on her feet were also unfamiliar to him. She looked straight out of one of the epic movies about ancient Greece his father had liked to watch.

“That dress was ruined, I’m afraid. Her little trek through the woods left the fabric torn and stained. Not to worry, I dressed her in more appropriate clothing.”

He turned his head, finally acknowledging the other woman in the temple. Had he been in his right mind, he would’ve noticed the faintly glowing aura around her, the way she carried herself with the grace and elegance of a superior being, the beauty in her every feature.

He was not, however, in his right mind.

“Who the fuck are you and what are you doing with my daughter?”

He saw her brows furrow, jaw clench, and eyes harden with barely concealed fury. For a moment, he could’ve sworn they shone red.

“I will forgive your insolence on account of your worry for Melina. But I ask that you refrain from treating me with such disrespect. This is my home, Arthur Leclerc.”

Had he been in his right mind, he would’ve apologised for his behaviour and rectified it immediately. 

As previously stated, however, he was not.

Truly, it was a miracle he was even alive.

“Melina, let’s go. We need to get back home and away from this woman.”

His daughter did not move, simply crossed her arms with a disappointed look in her eyes. The mystery woman’s eye twitched.

“Papa, you’re being a dummy.”

“She’s not going anywhere.”

The words were spoken at a low pitch, almost like a growl, and with such power, it felt like Arthur was being physically knocked back. Melina walked towards the woman, raising her arms. She didn’t even hesitate in lifting the little girl, setting her on her hip, kissing the side of her head.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the foggy feeling taking over his brain. 

“She’s my daughter.”

“And yet, she came to me. She prayed to me, made an offering upon my altar, and asked me to be her mother. I have claimed her, she’s mine now.”

He furrowed his brows, looking at her.

“Woman, what kind of mental instability do you have?”

His continued state of living was more than a miracle, actually. If there even is something above a miracle. 

Faster than he could blink, Melina was on the floor and pushed behind the mystery woman. Her hands glowed in front of her, eyes shining a violent red, and he felt vines rise from the floor and pull at his limbs, forcing him to his knees. A vine came around his throat, getting tighter and tighter, until he could no longer breathe.

“How dare you come into my temple and treat me with such disrespect, mortal? Do you know who I am? I am (Y/n), goddess of love, beauty, spring, and nurture. I give life, but that does not mean I cannot take it. Do not take my reticence to cause harm for an inability to do so. I should squash you like the bug you are for your insolence.”

“Maman, no!”

The vine around his throat untightened, and he took a desperate breath in, panting and coughing.

The woman– Lady (Y/n), he reminded himself –sighed, crouching in front of his daughter.

“I’m sorry, blossom, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Melina frowned.

“You can’t hurt Papa, Maman.”

She sighed, but nodded.

“Fine.”

The vines around his body retreated, and he felt his head go faint.

“You–”

Lady (Y/n) looked at him.

“Me?”

“You– Goddess? Real?”

She seemed disturbed by the fact he could not form proper sentences. Were he in his right mind, he would be too.

“I’m very much real, yes.”

“Oh, bordel.”

He vaguely felt the thud of his head hitting the ground, before it all went black.

—-—

(Y/n) looked at the man sprawled on the floor, unconscious, and raised her hands at her side.

“That wasn’t me, I didn’t do anything.”

Mother and daughter looked at the man with similar looks on their faces.

“Maybe we should get him to a bed?”

“Great idea, poppet.”

Neither moved.

“Are you gonna do it?”

“Oh, right, yeah, hold on.”

Vines burst from the floor, wrapped around his body, and lifted him up through the air, delicately transporting him to the bed Melina had been resting on earlier that day. (Y/n) picked up a stone bowl, filled it with water from the well, and dipped a soft cloth inside.

“Alright, come here, time to learn.”

Melina walked over to where she was now sitting on the edge of the bed.

“So, what did I tell you about the well?”

“It’s the source of your power,” she replied dutifully, “It’s where people make offerings to you so your power can grow and you can help better.”

She nodded with a smile.

“Exactly. Technically, offerings work anywhere, and especially anywhere in my temple, but offerings given to the well are always more powerful. But this also means that the water itself carries my power. Remember how I told you I was the goddess of nurture?”

Melina nodded.

“Remember what that means?”

She frowned, trying to remember.

“It means you take care of and protect people.”

“That’s right, good job, baby. This also means that because I’m supposed to care for and protect, I have healing powers.”

Her jaw dropped.

“You do?”

(Y/n) nodded.

“Not to Apollo’s extent, of course, my healing powers are only minor. It means I can’t heal really bad illnesses like cancer, or anything like that, but I can take care of a few scrapes and speed up healing if you have any broken bones.”

Under Melina’s watchful eyes, she dipped the cloth into the well water, then wrung it out.

“It also means that the water from my well can more or less mimic my powers. It makes flowers grow faster, for example. But in this case, it’s gonna help take care of your father.”

She delicately ran the wet cloth over Arthur’s face, full of scrapes from the tree branches, and over the already-forming bump on his forehead from where he facepalmed to the floor.

Melina gasped as the scrapes healed before her very eyes, disappearing within seconds as if they were never even there.

“You wanna try? He still has a good number of scratches on his arms.”

She nodded so fast (Y/n) was almost worried she’d give herself whiplash. She sat on her mother’s knees, taking the cloth from her hands.

“Alright, wet it in the water… there you go, now squeeze the excess out… great job, my love, now remember to be gentle.”

She slowly ran the cloth over her father’s eyes, squealing happily when the scratches disappeared, leaving blank skin in its wake.

They healed Arthur’s arms with a single-minded focus, both happy to be able to share this experience. Melina had never thought she’d get to learn from her own mother. (Y/n) had lost hope of having a child to pass on her knowledge to.

So focused were they on this experience that they never noticed when Arthur’s eyes fluttered open, and he took to watching them with a soft look on his face.

“All done, Maman.”

“Good job, lovely, you did so good.”

“Thank you.”

Both girls startled. (Y/n) fought the urge to curse herself for her lack of situational awareness. It seemed that a few centuries of feeling weak had left her unaware of the world around her.

Arthur cleared his throat, raising his body to lean against the pillows. His cheeks were a bit red and he seemed to be having trouble maintaining eye contact.

“I apologise for disrespecting you, Lady (Y/n), I was… clearly not in my right mind.”

Melina turned to her with big innocent eyes.

“Uncle Charlie says Papa’s got sawdust instead of a brain so it makes him act silly.”

“Uncle Charlie needs to shut his mouth.”

(Y/n) bit back a smile, enjoying the dynamic between the two. She saw a barely-there twitch run over Arthur’s face as he tried to find a more comfortable position.

“Are you still hurt?”

He looked up at her, cheeks getting redder.

“Oh, no, I’m alright, don’t worry. It’s just a bit of soreness in my back from the racing, nothing I’m not used to.”

She blinked at him.

“Racing?”

He blinked back.

“Um, yeah… I’m a Formula One driver. I’m a reserve driver for Ferrari and test the cars for them as well. This weekend, I had to replace one of the main drivers cause he got food poisoning, so now I’m just feeling the effects still.”

He was saying a lot of words, but she understood none of them.

“What’s a Formula One?”

He seemed taken aback by that, but smirked at her in a cheeky way.

“I thought gods were supposed to be omniscient, how do you not know what F1 is?”

She huffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Well, excuse me for being too busy fading to keep up with modern inventions! I haven’t had enough energy to care about what the world’s been up to since the 1940s, and even then, it was just because the war was so big that even my forest wasn’t safe from it.”

He winced, looking embarrassed at her answer.

“Right, sorry about that.”

She smiled at him dismissingly.

“Truth is, if Melina hadn’t found the well and made that offering… I don’t know how much longer I’d have lasted.”

Melina climbed onto her lap, nuzzling into her chest the way children do when they want comfort. (Y/n) couldn’t help but bring her arms around the little girl, holding her close to her chest.

“So, she saved you from fading and you decided you were gonna adopt her?”

She lifted an eyebrow at Arthur.

“I mean, in my defence, she did wish I could be her mother. It’s not like I took her against her will. She came to me, what was I supposed to do?”

She heard him mutter something under his breath about “cat distribution system” and “looking a bit different”, but she was too busy watching Melina’s eyes start to droop to notice.

“Tired, blossom?”

She nodded, yawning widely. 

“I should take her home. My family’s worried sick about her, we’ve been searching all afternoon.”

(Y/n) couldn’t help but hug the little girl tighter, not wanting to let her go.

“But… You guys just got here. I don’t want you to go.”

She bit back the sudden urge to cry, the panic clawing at her chest at the thought of being alone again, of feeling her power dwindle again, of starting to fade again.

Her temple answered her distress in kind, vines wrapping themselves around her legs in an attempt to comfort her, ivy crawling up the wall closest to her.

Arthur observed it all with a quiet intelligence in his eyes, not judging, simply trying to understand.

“Will you be here tomorrow?”

He asked, looking her in the eyes.

“In the temple? Of course. I rarely leave it. Don’t really have anywhere to go, or enough energy to, most of the time.”

He nodded.

“Alright. Then so will we.”

She drew in a sharp breath, fighting against the hope blossoming in her chest. 

“Lina has school in the morning, but as soon as she’s done, we’ll be here. I can bring some food and we can have a picnic. The weather’s looking nice for tomorrow.”

She searched his eyes for any hint of trickery. Dishonesty. 

“Do you really mean that?”

He nodded, resolute.

“We’ll be back tomorrow. I promise you.”

She felt her core shake, and the water in her well rippled.

“Arthur, you can’t just say that. I’m a goddess. A promise made to me is binding, breaking it… it carries serious consequences that even I won’t be able to stop.”

He shrugged, smiling at her in a boyish way. She couldn’t help but be drawn by the way his green eyes seemed to sparkle.

“I’d be worried if I didn’t intend to keep it. But nothing short of a natural disaster could keep us away.”

She breathed out. Humans were not known for their trustworthiness. But, tentatively, she allowed herself to believe. Maybe just this once.

Melina was already asleep by the time Arthur walked out the doors to the temple. The sky around them was dark, making the forest look almost pitch black, but (Y/n) conjured up a small ball of light, allowing it to lead the way so they could safely make it back home. 

Arthur looked back at her before fully disappearing, mouthing those same words again, cementing it.

I promise.

And that's that! Fun fact, Melina's name is inspired by Melinoë, a chtonich goddess and bringer of nightmares and madness, and daughter of Persephone.

Hope you guys liked it, don't forget to comment and reblog! My asks and DMs are always open

-Love, Miah<3

Formula One Reader Inserts

@aykxz98 @camelliaflow3r

[urprettylildoe]

ℒ𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁ℯ 𝓅ℯ𝒶𝓇𝓁

Yandere!crownprince x mermaid!reader

ꨄ︎ Perhaps one shouldn't fear monsters of the sea, but the bewitching human in front of you who gets whatever he wants.

Was there anything more beautiful? Alaric could wonder as he stared.

Sat on a rock, a mermaid that was you sung so beautifully, that the crown prince was in a trance.

He was decked out in his royal attire, strolling around in the forest near the palace until he heard a voice as sweet as honey and followed its direction.

It didn't help that you were gorgeous too. On top of all that, mermaids were rare, so to see one as ethereal as you made him delighted.

Suddenly, a twig snapped. Your large, fawn-like eyes snapped to his, your voice dying down. A soft yelp escaped you as you dove back into the water.

"Wait! Please wait!" His begging fell on deaf ears and his shoulders slumped.

Damn it. He screwed it up.

"Y-your majesty!"

His courtier, David, scrambled to his side, clearly relieved to have found him.

Alaric's forest green eyes never left the water.

David's brows furrowed, "what are you doing here?"

A slow, calculating smile grew on Alaric's face, "I saw a beautiful fish."

He turned towards his companion. "Prepare the palace to welcome its most precious guest."

And the man knew that this one wasn't going to slip out his grasp.

♡︎

Your breath was coming out in short pants as you swam frantically.

How could you be so reckless to let a human see you? Your mother would kill you if she found out.

Ever since you were young, you've been taught to stay out of human kind's way. They would chew you up and spit you out once they got their greedy hands on a beauty like you.

Mermaids often possessed flashy tails and captivating looks, luring everyone in for all the wrong reasons.

And you just had to sing a melody so loudly.

Subconsciously, you chewed on your finger deep in thoughts. Perhaps the man would forget about your existence.

Oh, but how could he forget you, little pearl?

♡︎

Swimming in the same spot as last time, you had not learnt your lesson. For some reason, the trees loominh over the crystal clear water made the place a gorgeous place.

In your head, you could hear your mother yelling, "y/n, you're going to get yourself killed if you don't get out of there this instant."

Almost rebelious to your inner mother's scolding, you started to sing

Too high on dopamine, you fail to notice the predator's eyes on you.

"Excuse me?"

That familiar voice made your body freeze as you met the same smoldering emerald eyes.

Before you could dive into the water, he exclaimed in desperation: "please, don't go. Listen to me." Something about that phrase made you stop.

"Don't go."

With a soft sigh, you meet his gaze.

A crown sat atop his brown locks. It was sparkly and very pleasing to look at under the sunlight.

The man smiled softly, "that's more like it." He crouched down, his body casting a shadow over the water.

His eyes were curious, running over your body and specifically, your face and tail.

However, he wasn't frightening like how they described humans. He spoke to you like he would a terrified animal.

"I've never seen anything like you before," he said, almost in complete awe. "I've only ever heard of creatures, but seeing one...it's truly beautiful."

You inched closer, asking. "Are you going to tell anyone?"

He blinked. "I won't."

"You sure?"

"Of course, little pearl."

Your stance visibly relaxed. "Y/n"

He tilted his head, "huh?"

"My name," you uttered shyly. "Yours?"

"Alaric."

And for the first time, a smile crept up on your features. "It's a nice name."

"not quite as nice as you." He stared, almost in a trance, "Don't worry, I won't hurt you. I only just want to get to know you, darling."

And he meant every word.

Just a little more time, he reassured himself, and you'd be his.

♡

For a while, both of you met at the same spot, chatting. You've learnt about each other so much and you've grown to trust him.

You were unknowningly adding fuel to the never-ending fire in him.

After all, the prince had anything he wanted in the palms of his hands. He was born with a silver spoon, everything handed to him as soon as he asked for it. Servants left and right at his beck and call.

Who was going to stop him now?

Humming, you excitedly rushed to see your human friend just like you had been doing.

Suddenly, your heart dropped.

You were engulfed in a web-like material that closed around your body.

A net.

Alaric. He tricked you.

Was he going to kill you? Was this how your story ended?

You thrashed violently, wanting to escape the trap. The material rubbed harshly against your arms.

"We got her, your majesty!" A voice called out amidst the other ones as the net was lifted up.

Surprise, surprise, you were met by a giddy Alaric, almost as if a child getting their favourite toy.

You screamed softly, "what are you doing? Let me out-"

"Shh, shh, you'll hurt yourself more." His voice wasn't soothing like it used to be. "Relax. Soon enough, we'll be together, just like it was meant to be."

Tearing up, you croak, "you tricked me."

"No, I saved you, little pearl."

"Alaric..." you slurred as your eyes grew heavy.

One thought echoed in your head.

You should've listened to your mother. You shouldn't have trusted those emerald, deceiving eyes.

Everything went black.

The crown prince was delighted as you were knocked out cold, though he was temporarily deprived of your gaze.

Now, he had to enjoy the fruits of his labour.

Your songs were now only his to hear.

Your eyes were his to gaze upon.

He can just hope you'll love your new, pretty legs soon.

♡︎

go read part 2!

TY for reading <3 feel free to send requests.

𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇𝓈 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓁𝓎

@yourprettylildoe

[ohnoitstbskyen]

100 songs to get to know me

I posted this image over on the bluesky, and it got like 100 likes, so now here we are. I was going to write them all up here, but Tumblr imposes a 10 video limit on embeds per post which I find infuriating.

So! You can read the first ten entries here, but you can read the entire list here: https://tbskyen.bearblog.dev/100-songs-to-get-to-know-me/

1. ABBA - Lay All Your Love On Me

I genuinely don't quite know if my enjoyment of ABBA is something I came by honestly, or something which is simply genetically engineered into my Scandinavian soul. I remember hearing my mom blasting their songs on the home stereo in my childhood, and the association has put permanent nostalgia blinders on me for all of ABBA's greatest hits. Still, I think the beat is undeniable and the mournful tone of the chorus adds some real melancholy to the dramatic plea at the core of the song.

2. Afenginn - Oestrogenmanipuleret Basilisk

Afenginn describe themselves as "bastard etno-punk" which is probably as good a description as you're going to get. There's a lot of klezmer and eastern European folk influences here, but what is more important about Afenginn's best songs is that they go hard as f*ck and it's an absolute blast to dance to them at a show. They played this the first time I saw them live, and the rhythm comes back every time I hear it again. Good times!

3. Afenginn - Ralli in D Minor

With 100 slots to fill, I am giving myself permission to allocate two slots to Afenginn, and for the same reason. Ralli in D Minor is less of a dance tune to me, and more of a headbanger, but with a sufficiently loud subwoofer and a game crowd, you could f*ing mosh to this.

4. Anamanaguchi - Prom Night

I discovered Anamanaguchi as the composers of the title track to the Nerdist podcast back in the day, and being unfamiliar with the concept of chiptunes, I was drawn in initially by the sheer novelty of hearing the squeaks and bloops of my gaming childhood employed towards rock tunes and combined with "real" instruments.

Beyond the gimmick, though, Anamanaguchi won me over fully with the Scott Pilgrim game soundtrack, and then 2013's Endless Fantasy, where the gimmick of chiptune nostalgia noise (at least for me) finally coalesced into something that felt entirely like its own thing. Plus I'm a sucker for exactly this kind of bright dance pop, and Bianca Raquel's vocals here are a perfect match for the tone of the music.

5. Jennifer Hudson - Memory

2019s Cats is a fascinating fucking disaster. Tom Hooper is the worst director of musicals in my living memory, the abuse of the VFX staff extended beyond brutal crunch and absurd challenge imposed by a director who had no idea what the hell he was asking them to do all the way into an astonishingly arrogant and condescending joke from Rebel Wilson and James Corden at the expense of workers who were the last people at fault for the disaster that the movie became (look in the fucking mirror, Wilson and Corden, your performances were rancid).

Still, the silver lining of Cats is we got to hear Jennifer Hudson shake the world on its foundations with her rendition of Memory. I don't give a shit what anyone says, this performance is transcendent and no amount of institutional failure can dim its quality.

6. Annette Bjergfeldt - Min Bærende Bjælke

Annette is one of my mother's oldest friends, and a prolific singer-songwriter now turned author. I've been going to her concerts since I was a little child, and while I am absolutely not the target audience for any of it, it has stuck with me as part of my musical vocabulary deep into adulthood.

She has experimented with brass band accompaniment a few times, but for my money, nothing quite comes close to the floating, optimistic vibe of Min Bærende Bjælke. It sounds like a very particular kind of lasting romance, which of course is also what the lyrics are about.

7. Hozier - Blood Upon the Snow

We'll get more than one Hozier song on this list, but Blood Upon the Snow stands out to me as a song which easily transcends the videogame soundtrack promotional tie-in nature of its conception. Bear McCreary's hurdy gurdy and lyrics about surviving through adversity by holding on to existence with your teeth and nails... yeah, it hits with me. There's something real in that.

"The trees deny themselves nothing that makes them grow, no rainfall, no sunshine, no blood upon the snow." Something about that feels real.

8. The Beatles - Something

idk if I really need to write anything about George Harrison's most famous love song that hasn't been written more extensively by a million dad-rock enthusiasts before me.

I will say, this is one of the few songs I listen to regularly that justify the expensive audiophile headphones I invest in. There's a LOT to hear on a good, lossless, original mix of this song, if you're the kind of pervert who gets off to listening to a song a hundred times to focus on different parts of the soundscape. (it's me, I am the pervert)

9. Blink-182 - Adam's Song

I discovered a lot of my music taste as a young man from extremely low-resolution AMVs that my friend used to download off sketchy file-sharing sites. Blink-182 entered my musical lexicon through the one above, specifically, piggybacking off of my teenage love of Dragon Ball.

I never really grokked what the lyrics were actually about, until relistening to the song years later, but something about the minor-key wail of the thing really sat with my angsty teenage soul and has stuck with me ever since. I cannot listen to this song without that music video playing in my head, the song will forever belong to Vegeta.

There's remastered versions of this AMV out there, apparently, but if it's not 144p with tinny audio, it's just not right. That's not what the song is supposed to sound like, not to me.

10. Blink-182 - Miss You

Blink-182 is one of those bands I discovered via anime AMVs and listened to obsessively for a period as a teenager (The Offspring will show up later on this list), and then fell entirely out of touch with for years until discovering much later in life that they did, in fact, keep releasing music. I Miss You from their self-titled 2003 album felt, when I discovered it sometime in the early 2010s, like a much more mature and interesting sound from a band which had gotten stuck associated with my adolescent superpower kung-fu fantasies which I was, at the time, feeling a bit embarrassed about.

The song had a resurgence on TikTok a little while ago as a meme template, which made me listen to the albums again, and rediscover yet again that Blink-182 is, in fact, still putting out albums.

---

The rest of the list is here: https://tbskyen.bearblog.dev/100-songs-to-get-to-know-me/

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Swirlypod

Debut: Super Mario Bros. Wonder

YIPPEE YAHOO! A brand swirlin' new snail fresh for 2023! It has been quite a long time now since we've gotten a new Mario snail, and even since I've posted about one, since I covered all the snailiest Mario snails a while ago. But lookie here! Snaily snaily snail for me to see and for you to view!

Swirlypod is so delightful! To get this out of the way first, yes, its eyes are not on the ends of stalks. Yes, this is good and okay. Some snails are like that! Especially freshwater snails. And that's the kind of snail that this snail seems to be! While sometimes seen on land, it is also seen emerging from (poisonous) swamps. It can breathe that!

Swirlypod's face is just so, so precious. Its big, innocent, curious eyes experiencing the world in the way only a snail could! Its big ol' bulbous antennae, more bulbous than they have any right being, more like a nudibranch's than a normal snail's! And its mouth! I think that's its mouth? It's like three scrumbly tentacles ready to scrumble down some delicious fungus!

Did you know that the salt marsh snail Littoraria irrorata is able to FARM fungus? They damage marsh grasses to create large wounds for fungus to grow in, and even use their own poop as fertilizer! Snails can FARM!

Yes, indeed, what a wonderful snail we have here! Thank you, Super Mario Bros. Wonder!

...Hey! That shell comes right off! Now it's all Pod, with no Swirly! Does this mean Lime is The Impostor? I may have just asked you, but that was rhetorical. Don't ask me, because I don't know! Removable shells are a common ability for cartoon snails, and of course, the turtles of this world also have removable shells. I think it doesn't really mean much at all! Though, the idea of a "hermit slug" is very amusing. A snail who can't be bothered to grow its own shell. Maybe it wants to switch shells for different styles sometimes. A slow victim of fast fashion!

Wonder is one of those games where Koopa Troopas retreat into their shells when stomped, so Swirlypod is sort of a way to have Beach Koopa in the same game as the more standardly-behaving Koopa! Once it gets back on its foot, it will try to squirm back into a shell, if one is available. You can give it back! Just drop it down at your feet, and Swirlypod will have a home once more!

Another thing that sets Swirlypods apart from Koopas is that they are sticky slimy and can slither up and down vertical surfaces! Just like in real life! They don't only climb on the left and right sides of surfaces, either. They can even go on the surface facing the screen! Not just anyone is allowed to do that!

I am saving what may be the best tidbit for last! There is a good chance Swirlypod's bulbous antennae look familiar to you. That's because they look just like Leucochloridium paradoxum, the green-banded broodsac, everyone's favorite snail parasite! The flatworm that inhabits a snail's eyestalks, making them look more like caterpillars to get a bird to eat them so they can continue their life cycle! Swirlypod definitely isn't supposed to be like, ACTUALLY infected by this funny worm, but I think the resemblance is very much intentional, between the shape and coloring. And that is so awesome to see! This isn't even meant to be a scary snail or anything, but they represented a freaky parasite anyway!

[crimsonterror577]

Once the puppeteer, now the puppet. A Drone-Tessa concept I've been thinking about. Hopefully the 6 people who followed me after the 1st drone-Tessa post like this lol. If anyone here has any thoughts or feedback on this, tell me, I'd be glad to hear it!

A day in the Elliott manor,

It had been some time since Tessa had awoken. Or Cyn rather, as the Solver declared her name to be. Tessa couldn’t tell how much time went by in the ruins of Earth. The clocks hadn’t been working since Tessa awakened. And ever since the Absolute Solver broke Earth to pieces, the Elliott manor didn’t have a fluent day schedule. With each day having an sporadic length, sometimes lasting hours, minutes, or seemingly forever. Even during the night, light was still reflected onto the Elliott manor’s surface, but the other pieces of Earth. Ensuring there wasn’t any end to Cyn’s playing.

Tessa couldn’t tell whether she could call the planet Earth, anymore. The Solver turned Earth into a debris field, with its minor pieces orbiting its largest piece, which contained the Elliott manor, now Cyn’s liar.

“No, ‘the stage’ is a better name,” Tessa thought, while laying on her knees, scrubbing a rug with a sponge. “For a pointless house of living dolls.”

It was quiet in the Elliott manor. Cyn usually spent her time torturing someone, though not always Tessa. Cyn also played with possessed puppets on far-off galaxies, and now she was sitting dormant in Tessa’s old room, playing her game of cat and mouse with mankind. In the meantime, Cyn always ordered Tessa around the manor, cleaning it pointlessly. 

The first thing Cyn ordered of Tessa, upon her awakening, was to clean the blood leftover from the Gala event. Which Tessa did, cleaning the room roof to floor, yet the blood mixed very well with carpets, dragging Tessa to a stalemate.

“Dammit, If she hates blood so much, why’d she flood the back woods with it?” Tessa exclaimed silently, while looking up. “I suppose this must’ve been how she thought when I was free.”

Tessa sighed, and looked to her right, where her eyes caught a portrait of her old self, with her drones, all assembled together alongside her parents. 

“Ah, when I was free…” Tessa thought out loud.

Tessa looked at J's face, and smiled, thinking back to the laughter they once sang, and how eager they seemed to help her when her parents had seemingly left her.

“It was all an act,” Tessa thought, her smile frowning, as she turned back to the blood soaked carpet. “Just a mask.”

Tessa began scrubbing the carpet with renewed vigor.

“Mother was right, none of them really cared after all,” Tessa thought, remembering the emotionless look in J’s eyes when her builder got struck down. “Took my family, my home, even my whole name. Mother wasn’t even this cruel.”

Tessa’s scrubbing slowed.

“I really was just made to be someone’s fool, wasn’t I?” Tessa thought. “First pushed around by the parents, and now by an eldritch horror.”

Tessa stopped scrubbing, before slamming her fist down on the carpet.

“What am I thinking? I am still an Elliott, no matter what Cyn says,” Tessa thought. “And Elliott’s don’t quit.”

Tess’s face grew angry.

“Some day, I will get out of here. I have to,” Tessa thought, slamming the sponge repeatedly into the stained rug. “And when I do, I’ll burn this stupid blonde wig, I’ll call myself by my real name…” 

Tessa gave one last knock on the floor.

“And I will kill every last one of those 4 traitors,” Tessa thought.

Tessa’s momentum slowed to a halt, her eyes closed in contemplation. Finally, Tessa let out a sarcastic laugh, as she begrudgingly lifted herself up, and sat up against a wall, trying to breathe, yet her own metallic body failed to draw in air. Letting out a few shallow laughs, she felt an urge to cry, yet no tiers greeted her metallic face. Finally, Tessa sighed, and slouched back.

“But how?” Tessa said quietly.