#original story masterlist

[telltalerites]

Original Story Masterlist

This is a comprehensive, ever-updating list of my current WIPs! Every WIP that has a solid enough concept/outline, that I could theoretically start writing immediately, goes here. WIPs that have only vague ideas will instead be found at my Casual Story Masterlist. These are organized by their priority levels as of the making of the post, but may not remain that way as I add new stories + shift my content priorities around! The highest priority WIP will remain above the cut, but the rest will always be beneath it!

If you're looking for the short stories that I have already written about the stories/characters listed here, you should try my [Short Story Masterlist link goes here].

The Divinations Trilogy (Book 1: Entrails of the Animals)

Kirsen is a young elf who doesn't really know how to function if she doesn't have a job- a purpose, to keep her busy. When she stumbles upon the Ironwatch, and an ages-old prophecy about ending the world with a magic as rare as it is powerful, it really does seem like she's found just that. But life in Usoara will never be quite so simple and there are life-shattering revelations just waiting to claw their way to freedom. If Kirsen isn't careful, attempting to save the world as she knows it may end up costing more than she is capable of giving.

POV: Kirsen, Lucida(Book 1)/ Jashe, Nova(Book 2)/ Isaac, Demi(Book 3)

Type: Trilogy

Character List: [Full list + bios on toyhouse]

Genre: High Fantasy

Blog Tag: “os: entrails of the animals"

Playlist: Entrails of the Animals Vibes

Shared Stories: Bound

Intended Medium: Written Novels

Priority Lvl: HIGHEST

Sideshow

All Fiona has ever wanted to do is blend into humanity as seamlessly as possible. There are hundreds of ways to learn about the many other humanoid species in their world- but humans were the first. They were the only ones, once upon a time, and no one has ever bothered to write something explaining the culture and ways of them. So, it looks like Fiona's going to have to do that one herself, if she wants to figure out just what it means to be human. A.K.A. The four most traumatized young adults you've ever seen end up teaching each other how to actually acknowledge their mental health and take care of themselves- with a few hang-ups along the way.

POV: Fiona (Main), Bronwyn, Sian, Danae (Arc Dependent)

Type: Standalone

Character List:  [Full list + bios on toyhouse]

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Romance

Blog Tag: “os: sideshow”

Playlist: Sideshow Vibes

Shared Stories: None Currently

Intended Medium: Visual Novel Game

Priority Lvl: HIGH

(NOTE: This is a collaboration between me and my girlfriend. I’ve written the script and am doing the coding of it currently, while she does the art! Softgoal for a playable demo is 2024)

Tales of the Lady Red

The Tyrant Queen's children flee the castle in the night, taking to a ship with the goal of making it as far away as possible. A notorious pirate ship, the Red Lady, interferes with that plan. Its Captain is someone with a hunger for the promise of infamy and the way to reach it presented to her on a silver platter; ransom the Queen's children back to her and disappear before the other shoe drops. The siblings were finally free of their mother's abuse...but are they prepared for the harsh life that awaits outside the castle walls?

POV: Cassandra, Angeles

Type: Duology

Character List:  [Full list + bios on toyhouse]

Genre: Coming-of-age, Low Fantasy

Blog Tag: “os: the lady red”

Playlist: Tales of the Lady Red Vibes

Shared Stories: [Redacted for spoiler reasons :)]

Intended Medium: Written Novels

Priority Lvl: MEDIUM

Cardinal Values

Plagued with horrible visions of their death every time they try to fall asleep, Jonas has set out on a quest to figure out who cursed them this way and how to fix it. Apparently, though, they aren't the only one getting cursed lately...and none of them can seem to remember who did it. Something around them isn't quite right- an invisible string that binds them together, a snare they must escape before it traps them for good.

POV: Jonas

Type: Standalone

Character List:  [Full list + bios on toyhouse]

Genre: Low Fantasy, Thriller/Comedy

Blog Tag: “os: cardinal values”

Playlist: Cardinal Values Vibes

Shared Stories: None Currently

Intended Medium: Ideally RPG game or Webcomic

Priority Lvl: MED-HIGH

(NOTE: I cannot for the life of me find a placeholder title I like, so the name + blog tag for this story might change soon and/or repeatedly)

They Sing of Fireflies

Firefly ran away from home to become a bounty hunter- what they didn't expect to discover was a deadly conspiracy to wipe out lycanthropy and vampirism, no matter how many innocent lives it takes to do so. Which is a bit much for a fifteen-year-old looking for their first taste of danger. But trying to put your past behind you has a funny way of backfiring sometimes and ignoring your future does not prevent it from bleeding out at your feet. When you keep ignoring it, even as the red trails behind you with every step, it's easy to pretend you will outrun the consequences...but your ancestors will sing of your avoidable mistakes.

POV: Firefly

Type: Duology

Character List:  [Full list + bios on toyhouse]

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Hopepunk

Blog Tag: “os: fireflies”

Playlist: They Sing of Fireflies Vibes

Shared Stories: Little Fang, The Nameless

Intended Medium: Written Novels or Graphic Novels

Priority Lvl: MEDIUM

Momentum

Something breaks the sound barrier, something tears through the walls of the universe, Ruska and Reece feel the vibrations of it despite their deafness. It makes their ears bleed...it makes adventure kick in their hearts- and they realize far too late that it has taken their parents. When it doesn't return, the twins set out to find the truth by themselves, if that's what it's going to take. But the thing about adventure is this; it bleeds into tribulation, which bleeds into obsession, which bleeds into martyrdom. And, as it turns out, when you saturate your every step with the blood of what you deemed worthy sacrifices...it is only a matter of time before the carnivores come sniffing out the trail that promises magic and power- for those hungry enough to bite the hand that feeds.

POV: Ruska, Reece

Type: Series

Character List:  [Full list + bios on toyhouse]

Genre: Low Fantasy, Hopepunk

Blog Tag: “os: momentum”

Playlist: Momentum Vibes

Shared Stories: Velocity

Intended Medium: Graphic Novel, RPG game or Written Novel

Priority Lvl: MEDIUM

Velocity

Russell grew up on stories of their parent and their auncle setting out on an epic quest as teenagers. This on its own wouldn't be a problem- they have plenty of adults around to keep them out of trouble. But when you have access to a holy being that can travel through dimensions? Well, it doesn’t take him very long to come up with an amazing adventure of his own; to finish what his family started.

POV: Russell(Main), Josephine(Undecided)

Type: Series

Character List:  [Full list + bios on toyhouse]

Genre: High Fantasy/Sci-fi Fantasy mix

Blog Tag: “os: velocity”

Playlist: Velocity Vibes

Shared Stories: Momentum

Intended Medium: Graphic Novel, RPG game or Written Novel

Priority Lvl: LOW-MED

Little Fang

The smoke billows into the sky, sickly and light against the night sky. The candlelight flashes across every groove of the blade, meant more to tear than it is to slice. The good dog does as he is told, but it aches and it aches and it aches and- do you hear how the animal cries into the night? Does it stop you in your tracks, despite how it sings in your veins? How long does it take you to realize that YOU are the monster under the bed?

Mikala loves his daughter more than anything in the world…but is that enough to keep her safe from the monsters that lurk in his past?

POV: Mikala

Type: Standalone

Character List:  [Full list + bios on toyhouse]

Genre: Gothic Fantasy, Low Fantasy

Blog Tag: “os: little fang”

Playlist: Little Fang Vibes

Shared Stories: They Sing Of Fireflies

Intended Medium: Written Novel

Priority Lvl: MEDIUM

Bound

The Blood Country wanted their perfect, mindless assassin back. They thought that luring her away from the makeshift family she had made in their absence and taking them out of the equation would leave her with no options other than to return to them. What they created, instead, was a monster who knows intimately just how to become their undoing. Ciileyn set out for a life where she need not ever raise a blade again...but sometimes you have to finish the war that someone else started.

How far would you go to avenge your family?

POV: Ciileyn

Type: Standalone

Character List:  [Full list + bios on toyhouse]

Genre: Grimdark, High Fantasy

Blog Tag: “os: bound”

Playlist: Bound Vibes

Shared Stories: EOTA

Intended Medium: Written Novel

Priority Lvl: LOW-MED

Handle With Care (Fragile)

These things come in threes; the life, the death and the in-between. The world is ending- and nobody has a clue. The people who do are keeping secrets from one another that could destroy all of their best efforts to stop it, but they've never been taught any different. All three of them are blissfully unaware that they're about one more preventable tragedy away from wigging out completely. Is it too late to forgive yourself and others for the things that you will never have the luxury of forgetting?

POV: Liona, Tanith, Marcilla (Dependent)

Type: Standalone

Character List:  [Full list + bios on toyhouse]

Genre: Idek man…Urban Fantasy?

Blog Tag: “os: handle with care”

Playlist: Handle With Care Vibes

Shared Stories: None Currently

Intended Medium: Visual Novel game(Ideally), Written Novel(Realistically)

Priority Lvl: LOW-MED

Nothing Stays Nameless

Corinne moved to the town of Hobbysfell with her parents for college, but things quickly take a turn for the...weird. Something sinister has taken hold of the town- and when Cori's parents start behaving like autopilot NPC versions of themselves, she realizes that isn't as simple as "isolated rural town strangeness". If she ever wants to get her family back, she's going to have to find the handful of other residents that seem to be unaffected and get to the bottom of things...before there are no more brainwashed-civilians left to save.

POV: Corinne

Type: Standalone

Character List:  [Full list + bios on toyhouse]

Genre: Supernatural Thriller, Urban Fantasy

Blog Tag: “os: nothing stays nameless”

Playlist: The Nameless Vibes

Shared Stories: They Sing Of Fireflies

Intended Medium: Written Novel

Priority Lvl: LOW

The Lotus Project (Placeholder?)

Is Chrysaor a prophet? A medium? A reincarnated elder God? Boy, would they sure like to know!

Is it too late to make up for the sins committed in lives that weren't yours? Is there a way to escape the enroaching jaws of fate when you've never seen anything else? Can you reconcile with the tragedies you couldn't outrun while they look you in the face? Will you ever be anything more than the pawn in someone else's fucked up game? The answer will never matter; the weapon is the wheel is the world.

POV: Chrysaor

Type: Standalone

Character List:  [Full list + bios on toyhouse]

Genre: Thriller/Comedy, High Fantasy, Mythpunk

Blog Tag: “os: the lotus project”

Playlist: The Lotus Project Vibes

Shared Stories: EOTA(Loosely)

Intended Medium: Who knows, man

Priority Lvl: LOW

Like A Stray Dog

Harmonia awakens in a clinic bed without a shred of memory- even the name "Harmonia" is something she came up with just so she'd have something to hold onto. The single instance she remembers is from the moment before this blackout: a scar-faced woman standing over her with a bloodied weapon. With her life effectively stolen from her(in more ways than one, considering she clung to life in a dazed stupor for two weeks before recovering enough to move at all), Harmonia sets out to find this woman- the person she knows in her heart to be responsible for all of this. She's going to get her answers, her LIFE back…even if she has to forcibly tear it from this woman once she finds her.

POV: Harmonia and/or Renee

Type: Standalone

Character List:  [Full list + character bios on TH]

Genre:  Low Fantasy

Blog Tag: “os: like a stray dog”

Playlist: Like A Stray Dog vibes

Shared Stories: Possibly TOTLR

Intended Medium: Written Novel

Priority Lvl: MEDIUM

Temporal Remedy

After awakening on a space station with no memories aside from her name, Remedy must make what she can out of this new life she has. Unfortunately, she doesn't feel like she was ever the type to sit back and let life sort itself out. When Remedy gets ahold of one of the station's infamous time-travel devices and uses it in a panic, to avoid being caught red-handed, it deposits her in what seems to be several decades earlier.

Which, coincidentally, happens to be the two week period where dozens of crewmembers began disappearing from the station without a trace...and nobody ever figured out what truly happened. So really, when presented with two exciting and enticing mysteries to discover, what did you expect the super nosy, headstrong idiot to do? NOT try and investigate them both at the same time?

POV: Remedy

Type: Standalone

Character List:  [Full list + bios on toyhouse]

Genre: Sci-fi, maybe Gothic Sci-fi?, Murder Mystery

Blog Tag: “os: temporal remedy”

Playlist: Temporal Remedy Vibes

Shared Stories: None Intended

Intended Medium: Written Novel

Priority Lvl: LOWEST

[Return to Directory]

[sunnypopoki]

━ 𝐌𝐔𝐙𝐙𝐋𝐄 : P.1

(𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘢 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳)

𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦: 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘪��𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺. 𝘎𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴, 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯… 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶? 𝘓𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘢 𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨.

ᴛᴡ: ɪɴꜱᴇᴄᴜʀᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ꜰᴏᴜʟ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴇᴅ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ, ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ, ᴏᴠᴇʀᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴀꜰᴀʙ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴇᴛᴄ.

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄɪᴢᴇ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇꜱ, ꜱᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴅᴏ ꜱᴏ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏᴘᴏᴋɪ ᴏɴ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, Qᴜᴏᴛᴇᴠ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ.

P.2 / P.3

When you first saw him, you were left breathless.

That was years ago though, back when you were a teenager in high school who was only worried about the acne on your forehead and the 'F' you got in your math class. Now, you were preparing to head into college to become a psychiatrist.

You met Kieran as a freshman and started dating him months after. You weren't sure why you started dating him at first, you couldn't remember what he said that left your cheeks on fire, but the feeling next stopped.

Kieran grumbled curses under his breath as he heaved the last of the groceries through the door. His long black hair was messier than normal, tied into a low bun that curled strands around the nape of his neck. His tanned cheeks were red from the cold outside and a button on his shirt was popped open. Did he tousle a bear to get inside? He put the items on the counter and turned to face you.

"The groceries didn't want to come inside," he mumbled.

"You didn't give me a chance to help you carry them in."

His dark green eyes softened. He didn't look at anyone else the same way he did you. There was a time after you got married that you were afraid that he'd leave you because the two of you were yet to be intimate... but he didn't seem to care. You were glad he didn't care. His arms wrapped around your waist and he pressed a chaste kiss against your forehead.

There it was again. Breathless.

"But you've been working all day, Котик," he cooed, his Russian accent thick whenever he muttered the pet name he always used for you. "You deserve to rest."

All you wanted to do was melt into his arms. You couldn't deny that some part of you already was, sinking further into his embrace, eyes closed—but something was amiss.

Ever since high school, Kieran has been odd. He was a transfer student from London but he was born and raised in Russia, so he was always the popular kid in any class he was placed in. Even after he got in trouble multiple times for delinquent behavior. Sure, his behavior was better than what he was in high school and he was mature, but he was a lot more secretive now. So secretive that he refused to tell you where he went whenever he disappeared for "business trips" for days on end.

Now, you were a trusting wife, but you weren't naive. He worked as an editor for authors and yet he disappeared for days on end because of work? Even a baby could realize that was odd!

That wasn't the only thing though.

You've only been married to Kieran for six months but you were already starting to see signs that he wasn't entirely focused on the marriage anymore. Whenever his phone rang, he scrambled to pick it up before you had a chance to answer it for him. On the days you scheduled to go on dates together, he always arrived late with his clothes tousled about and his hair was undone. Late, late, late! He always seemed to be late for every activity the two of you scheduled together. Of course, he'd apologize over and over again, but the behavior never changed.

So maybe he did look at someone else the same way he did you. The thought left a bitter taste on your tongue.

Is he cheating on me?

It was a thought you never thought you'd have with Kieran. Whenever the two of you were dating in high school, he was loyal to a fault. You couldn't erase the memory of whenever a girl started smack-talking you and he yanked her hard so hard that a chunk of hair came from the roots. Even now, looking at him and being held by him, the thought felt distant. But it was there. That gnawing worry got worse and worse each time he got a call, text message, or left the house.

Well, who'd he be cheating on you with? He refused to have female friends in school because he always claimed that you were the only "woman" he wanted in his life. Of course, you didn't care if he had female friends or not, but you doubted it was someone the two of you knew from high school.

Your jaw clenched. Maybe he's bothered I haven't been intimate with him and he's been going to see someone?

The bitter taste worsened. Making out and slight touches wasn't the same as sex, you knew that, which is why you were so nervous to do it, even if it was with him. He never rushed you and he hadn't ever made comments about it. You listened to the thudding of his heart against his chest and pursed your lips.

You couldn't bring yourself to ask him if he was cheating on you. What if he said yes? What if he wasn't and left you because he thought you were a psycho? What if he lied and continued to cheat? Your hands scrunched up the fabric of his shirt as you hugged him tighter. You didn't want your first love to cause you heartbreak by something as revolting as cheating.

A cold hand pressed against your cheek. Kieran tilted your head back and his eyes flickered across your face. His brow creased in worry.

"Are you okay?"

No, not really. I'm worried you might be cheating on me.

But you couldn't say that.

"Yeah! I'm fine," you beamed and pulled him closer to you. "I just missed you, that's all. It was your day off but you've been out doing errands since this morning. You first went to the pharmacy to get our medicine, then the bank, then to get groceries... aren't you tired?"

He didn't look convinced. Then again, he'd known you since you were fourteen years old, so he knew how to read you like a book. His green eyes darkened momentarily and his teeth nipped at his bottom lip. His fingers traced lines above your cheekbone, jaw, and the shell of your ear.

"I'm sorry. I should have spent more time with you today."

"No, Kieran, what are you even saying? Errands need to be run so I'm appreciative that you did them," your hands fiddled at the button that came undone on his shirt. "That can't stop me from missing you though. I just feel as if you've been..."

His fingers stopped. "What?"

You regretted saying anything at all. You should have just said you missed him after a long day and went on with it, dragged him to the couch, and asked him to watch a movie with you. Your hands pulled away from his shirt and you saw the way his body tensed up like a spring. It wasn't too late to change the conversation. Maybe lie to him and say it was just a joke, that you weren't really worried. No, no, that'd be an asshole thing to do to your spouse, to make them worry you for nothing.

"(Y/N)?"

He never says your name unless he's serious or mad. Your eyes dragged back up to meet his and his jaw was clenched. He didn't look mad, he looked worried. Almost like you just punched him in the gut and he was doing his best to stay upright.

Why did he look like that? Based on all your rushing thoughts, worried about the possibility of him cheating on you, you were the one who was struggling.

"...I just feel as if you have been distant lately," you confessed with a tight smile, "but it's okay. I know you've been busy with work and I've been busy with getting ready for my upcoming lectures next week. I'm probably just being clingy again."

He didn't say anything. You weren't sure if you were supposed to feel hurt that he said nothing or relieved, but you knew that he didn't buy a single thing you just said by the way he was looking at you. He wasn't moving from the position he had on you; hand on your cheek, tense jaw, stiff muscles, darkened gaze. He breathed slowly out through his nose and opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it.

You saw a flicker of something else in his eyes whenever he closed his mouth. Guilt.

Why does he feel guilty? you thought, dread creeping up your spine. Am I right? Is he cheating on me?

You blinked in surprise whenever he pulled you into him again. His nose nuzzled into your neck and you almost suffocated with how tight his arms wrapped around you. His lips pressed little kisses against your neck and he breathed in deeply. For a split second, you almost forgot what you were so nervous about, you almost let the worry of him cheating on you slip from your mind.

"Котик, I'm sorry you've felt so lonely. I'll be able to spend more time with you soon. It's just... work, it gets in the way of so much. But I swear, I'll be able to hang out with you tomorrow without doing anything. I promise, okay?" he let go and cupped your cheeks, "me and you can do whatever you want to do for tonight. A date? I'll do it. Go to bed early? As long as you're in my arms. Anything."

Lies were best told with a sweet tongue. You weren't even sure if he meant well by telling you that, not whenever this wasn't the first time he'd promised something like this. In the end, he always got a call which caused him to leave the house for a couple hours (or sometimes a couple of days). You were used to it by now, so you only forced a smile and nodded. His face lit up.

"We can go ahead and watch a movie now if you want?"

You blinked. Now? He usually put things off whenever it came down to sitting down and watching something. You refrained from glancing at the clock. You wanted to spend time with him but you were already fearful of how much time you could before he was called away or got distracted with something. You couldn't remember the last time you sat down and watched something with him. Though, you supposed it was better than him not being there.

"And what movie do you want to watch?"

He grinned. "I believe I said whatever you want. Maybe we can watch a horror movie? So I can..." he twirled you around and hugged you from behind, "wrap my arms around you like this and protect you from evil. Hm?"

You felt your cheeks warm. "That sounds just like an excuse to hold me."

"I'm your husband, I don't need an excuse for something like that," he kissed your cheek. "truthfully, I adore it whenever you depend on me. That includes each time there's a jumpscare and you almost shit your pants each time."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny. I don't get that scared."

"You cried when we watched The Haunting of Hill House together."

"Okay, there's a difference between a demon that you can't fight and some serial killer breaking into your house! I'd rather take the serial killer. Plus, that was years ago when it first came out and it was a sad show."

You didn't miss the way his jaw clenched ever so slightly. Maybe the term 'odd' wasn't the best way to describe him with the way he has been acting recently. After the two of you graduated high school, he started to get touchy about certain topics about crime. He always had a fascination with crime back when he was a teenager in high school, but the topic suddenly became grim for him whenever he got older.

You weren't sure why. Honestly, you've never asked. The topic wasn't something you'd be able to bring up with ease, especially when he tried to change the topic each time someone wanted to talk about true crime or the news with him. You remembered that he was worried when he found out you were going to school to become a therapist... worried that you'd get stuck with a patient who did bad things.

You didn't even want to get into how paranoid he was about the police. That was a different topic entirely.

"I find something real to be much more terrifying than a fictional ghost," he murmured.

"But demons could be real!"

There was a long pause. You felt his muscles churn around you, squeezing you tighter, refusing to let you go and he mumbled seriously. "Promise me that if anyone broke into our house and you had to pick between going with them or a demon, you'd go with the demon."

"What are you on about?" you deadpanned, "I thought were talking about movies, and Kieran, I doubt a scenario like that would ever happen."

"Promise me, (Y/N). Demon or not,  you won't go with anyone who breaks into our house."

Your eyes narrowed. "Keiran, I don't have to promise you something that is common sense. I obviously won't be going with anyone who breaks into our house. You act like you think someone will."

He huffed and let go. The warmth of his embrace leaving left goosebumps all over your body. You didn't get a chance to say anything before he flashed a blinding smile, chuckling.

"I was just making sure. You've always been a daredevil, so I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't try and challenge anyone who barged into our house. I doubt anyone would break in anyway."

It was only natural that you didn't believe him. There were a lot of stories where people said that their partners changed after marriage, sometimes for the better or the worse, and you weren't sure if Kieran's change was good or bad. His paranoid nature only made it hard to believe that he wasn't cheating on you. He was clingy before he married you, but he was overly clingy and sweet now. Which was odd because he was often out of the house or on phone calls...

It was just, well, odd.

"Oh... okay then. Do you need help putting up the groceries before we watch a movie?"

"No need, Котик. You can prepare the movie for us to watch. Choose anything you want."

There was a game you played. Each time you noticed Kieran avoid looking you in the eye, you took three gulps of breath. It was mostly a game you played to calm yourself down from the rush of anxiety you felt each time he did. It left you wondering if you did something wrong, if you made him pissed and he didn't want to look at you anymore. Your lips curled into a frown.

He could just be watching a movie so I wouldn't complain about missing him.

You nodded silently and turned on your heel. It would be best to ignore that entire conversation happened. Worrying over his suspicious and paranoid behavior wouldn't change the fact that he was acting that way. You glanced at him one more time as he placed the milk into the fridge. Yeah. Don't worry about it. Just don't worry.

The living room was down the hallway to the left. The floorboards squealed at the weight and you sighed whenever you walked to the couch, picking up the remote and turning it on.  The two of you didn't have a lot of streaming services so almost everything you watched was on Netflix. Your fingers tapped around and you absentmindedly scrolled through the list of movies.

You were tempted to throw on a movie that you already watched. However, it was supposed to be time spent together and you knew he'd get bored if you clicked something that he had already watched. You clicked a random scary movie. The name was confusing and it looked like a found-footage aesthetic, something about the catacombs under Paris and the philosopher's stone.

"I'm sure he hasn't watched this..."

"Watched what?"

You jumped whenever he clamped a hand on your shoulder. Whipping around on the sofa, Kieran was leaning over the back with a sly smirk on his face.

"Already scared?" he chuckled, "I have a gut feeling you're going to be clinging to me throughout this entire movie."

You pursed your lips. He already got all the groceries done that fast? You knew that he didn't like to waste time but he was insanely fast doing that. He massaged your shoulders whenever he noticed the frown you had, his smile growing wider by the second. He jumped over the back of the couch effortlessly and plopped down right beside you.

"Why are you frowning, my sweet Котик?"

"You got done way too fast with putting the groceries away" you squinted. "It's not normal."

He inhaled. There was a rasp in the back of his throat whenever he leaned forward, his breath tickling your skin. The air was knocked from your lungs whenever his gaze flickered to your lips and back up to yours. "Would you believe me if I told you that I have been craving to be close to you? Especially to kiss you..."

Heat crept up the back of your neck. All the worries you had melted away whenever he pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. He wasn't avoiding your eyes, now he was staring so intently that you were afraid that you were going to become a puddle of goo in his arms. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip.

"Mm, can I kiss you?"

"...do you have to ask?"

He chuckled breathlessly, "Yes. It's polite."

"But you're my husband."

"Yes, I am."

His lips smashed against yours. Anything you wanted to say was thrown out the window whenever his hands gripped your waist and yanked your body against his. His hand brushed up your spine, up your neck, brushing over your hair and going to cup your face. His lips were cold and his nose was too, breath smelling like the mint gum he always seemed to chew. The hint of his cologne tickled your nose.

Your hands ran up his arms and you tugged at the collar of his shirt. He was still a ruffled mess from when he came in from outside. His hair was a knotted mess that needed to be brushed out, but that didn't stop your hands from tangling in the strands and tugging at them. A groan tore through his lips.

"God, you're so fucking perfect," he whispered against your lips. "I don't want to stop kissing you now. Mmm, do we have to watch the movie? I want to give you more kisses."

You almost agreed. "...But the movie is already waiting to be played."

He licked his teeth and his hands ran up and down your back. He swallowed and you noticed the dip of his adam's apple, his eyes staring at your lips again. "Of course, we should watch the movie, but..."

"But what?"

"Can I kiss you even more after the movie?"

The fire in your cheeks felt like your skin was melting off. There were times when it felt like you were in high school again, getting all flustered because of his needy nature. Ever since you have known him he has always been the type to enjoy kisses. Even something as chaste as a peck on the forehead, he was a sucker for it. Whenever the two of you first started dating, he'd get so red each time you kissed his cheek, stammering over nothing and quickly kissing your cheek back and scurrying away.

Now look at him. He was pulling you in, begging for more, kissing you like you were his only source of oxygen. He even kissed you like that on your wedding day. His entire family was whooping and cheering after that, and your few family members who attended frowned. You remembered being embarrassed at the time... but you were glad that something like that didn't change.

"Very well. You can kiss me all you want after the movie. Don't try and sneak some in while we are watching, because then you won't focus on the movie at all," you mumbled.

"You're flustered so easily, Котик," he grinned. He leaned into the couch and placed his arm around the back, fiddling with your sleeve as he rested his cheek against your head. "But fineeee. I guess I'll obey your orders for now."

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. It only took you a couple of seconds for you to get comfortable and curl into his side, shuffling to find the remote as he tugged a blanket over you both. You never got an answer on if he watched it before or not but by the way his eyes were glued to the screen whenever you clicked play, you assumed not.

Time became a blur. Now and again he'd comment on the movie or just something toward you, but his arm never moved from its spot behind you. He curled his legs up on the couch and mumbled complaints under his breath whenever he saw the characters do something stupid.

You started to forget your anxieties. Even just for a short while, it was nice to relax with him and to feel him close without having to worry about him leaving to go on some 'business trip'. You were focusing on him too much to even care about the movie. The way his lips formed a thin line whenever he was annoyed, his rapid blinking each time something shocking happened, bouncing his leg up and down.

It was impossible to not love him.

He noticed you staring. His cheeks turned a little pink. "What?"

"Nothing."

His ego would explode if you told him you were staring at him just because he was fun to watch. Hearing his endless teasing wasn't something you were in the mood to hear, so you just feigned looking back at the movie to watch it. His eyes burned into the side of your head for a second long before he looked back to the screen.

You glanced back at him. He was sucked into the TV again. He chewed on the edge of his knuckle and you let your eyes wander. You stared at the tattoos that peeked out from under his collar and sleeve. All those colorful tattoos were hidden away. He had some of them before you met him, which you always found surprising that he had tattoos at such a young age, but he just said "It ran in the family".

It was addicting to trace your fingers over them. Kieran liked laying around shirtless whenever it was summer. You always used to visit his old apartment to sit with him and let him read his books while you doodled on his arms and called them 'new tattoos' while you colored in his blank tattoos. Butterflies fluttered whenever you remembered the way he smiled at you each time you drew on him.

He had so many tattoos that you weren't sure how many he had. Some were in Russian, but a lot of them were creatures from folklore and mythology. Like Baba Yaga, who came from Slavic Folklore, which was tattooed on his right hip. You always used to doodle accessories onto her face.

"Котик, are you going to continue staring at me or are you going to watch the movie?"

You quickly avoided his gaze and looked at the TV. "I am watching the movie."

"Surreee."

Everything was fine for a while. A while, you said, because it didn't take long for all that built-up hope and affection to come back down from its high. Soon enough you'd be feeling the withdrawal. You were in the middle of watching the characters climb through a tunnel of bones whenever a phone started to ring loudly. It bounced off the walls and jarred Kieran out of his trance.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

Your smile fell. Kieran cursed.

The arm slung around your shoulder tensed, his hand curling into a fist that turned his knuckles white. His jaw flexed, and the phone rang for a couple more seconds before he moved from the couch and grabbed his phone from the cushion.

It was bad luck. You were convinced that you were cursed with bad luck. A sour taste bubbled in your chest and coated your tongue. Biting at the inside of your cheek, you shut the TV off completely as that swell of expectation came back. The remote was tossed to the side and the blanket slipped to the floor.

You caught a glimpse of the phone screen before he answered it. UNKNOWN. Of course, it was another random number that he didn't have saved to his contacts. You clutched the blanket in your lap and a lump formed in your throat. Seriously? Why were you going to cry? You knew that he wouldn't be focused on you forever. It also wasn't like you knew he was cheating on you, you had no proof, it was just a suspicion. But that didn't stop the familiar sting of tears welling up behind your eyes.

You knew it was a lie whenever he promised to spend the rest of the day with you, you weren't sure why you let your hopes get up. But it still hurt.

He pressed the device to his ear and snapped.

"What?"

Just who was it that made him sound like that? You've never heard him sound so hateful, so nasty, to just some random caller on the phone. That meant he knew who was calling him even when the number popped up. The random person he didn't have saved in his phone. Someone he possibly didn't want to be linked to.

Thousands of questions tumbled through your mind. Kieran wasn't interested in men, so if he was cheating, it wasn't a man... unless he was interested in men and hasn't told you? He has a lot of male friends. No, no, having friends of any gender doesn't just mean that you'll sleep with them or have a second life with them behind your partner. So if it was a woman... where would he have met her? Maybe it was a client and he was editing her book?

He did read a lot of articles. There was always the possibility that it was a writer of those, right? Wait—

I'm not being a good wife right now, you thought. Your nails picked at your cuticles. I'm just assuming things without any proof. Am I being like one of those psychotic, obsessive wives? Is there something wrong with me? What if I'm the issue?

Your bottom lip wobbled. You clamped your teeth on it to keep Kieran from noticing.

He started to pace and ramble around the room in Russian. He didn't seem to be talking to anyone, mostly to himself in frustration, as his hand was placed on his hip and he cursed under his breath. There were many times in your life when you wished you knew Russian; when you first met him, to impress him, to have conversations with him, to learn his culture and language... now you were more concerned if he was frustrated about a girl or not.

The only Russian word you knew that he actively said around you was 'Котик', a Russian term of endearment meant for a lover which meant "kitten" or "kitty". You didn't need to jump leaps to guess what it meant even if it was a somewhat cheesy term to use (at least in your opinion), but you never argued, since he has called you it since the two of you were teenagers.

"I thought I told you to—"

Kieran cut himself off quickly whenever he realized you were still in the room with him. He dragged the phone away from his ear and his eyes snapped to you, his face falling into despair whenever he noticed the TV was off and you were staring up at him. Another broken promise. Another lie. Another phone call he just had to pick up, that he couldn't ignore for one night. Just how many more broken promises were you going to take before you finally asked him why he couldn't keep them?

Damn it. You really wanted to cry.

Even if it wasn't him cheating on you, even if it was work, some part of you wished that he included you in it as well. You were aware that you weren't supposed to be in every single part of his life. The two of you were supposed to be comfortable in the relationship, not joined at the hip breathing down each other's necks.

You just didn't get it. It wasn't like 'work' was going to straight up kill him if he didn't answer the phone for one night!

Kieran didn't know what to do. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at you with so many open emotions on his face that you couldn't read all of them. But he knew what he had done. He picked up the phone and that alone was enough to break a promise, even if he hadn't left the house. Yet. You knew how it worked—he always left the house after late phone calls like this. You were slowly starting to get used to the feeling of falling asleep without him there. And some mornings, he wasn't in bed either, only a note left on the counter with breakfast he made.

His shoulders sank. "Котик, I... uhm, I need to take this phone call real quick so I'm going to step into the other room, okay? I'll be right back though and me and you can finish the movie—"

Liar.

"Uhm... I think I'm just going to go to bed. I'm starting to feel tired anyway. Uh, make sure to lock the door behind you whenever you go out."

He always did. You weren't sure why you were reminding him.

Deep down, some part of you wanted him to feel guilty. It was that small whisper of hope that if he felt guilty then maybe he'd start changing things for the better, to start telling you why he was so secretive, and to start sleeping in your bed again. You missed the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. Sure, some nights he did fall asleep in your bed. But some nights weren't most nights, and most nights weren't every night.

I miss a man who's right in front of me.

His entire expression crumpled. He opened his mouth to say something but faltered, watching as you got up and threw the blanket the two of you were sharing back on the couch. Oh how badly he looked like he wanted to say something. And how badly you felt about yourself whenever you saw his expression, because seeing him feel guilty didn't bring satisfaction, it only made your heart hurt more.

"(Y/N), I—"

"It's okay," you flashed a smile, "I'll talk to you tomorrow morning."

If he'd be there tomorrow morning.

You didn't give him a chance to respond before you turned on your heel and scurried to the bedroom. The house which you picked with him seven months ago now felt cold and lonely compared to the warm idea you had when you first saw it. Tears sprung forth whenever you closed the door behind you, choking into your elbow as you did your best to muffle the small sobs that let your lips. You couldn't hear him anymore or the muffled rambling over the phone.

The room was dark. The floorboards were ice cold and you didn't bother to brush your teeth, wash your face, or change into pajamas before you crawled under the covers and hid.

Emotions were a complicated thing. You hated how they felt and how it was so hard to understand them. All you wanted was for Kieran to come to you and have a conversation about what was going on, but now you were dreading that he would because you didn't want him to see that you were crying. He always got so panicked whenever you cried. Always brushing away your tears, cooing sweet things in your ear, kissing your face and neck anywhere he could.

Which made you wish he did see you cry.

See? Emotions were complicated.

You don't know how long you laid in bed. You only heard the whir and popping of heat rushing through the vents, warming up the room until you were toasty under the thick blankets. There were times when you swore you heard a shout from the other room, muffled and something you couldn't understand, but then it was gone. Possibly a figment of your imagination, maybe it was Kieran shouting over the phone.

Your day started with a good start. Then everything deescalated in a whirlwind of emotions that you didn't know how to control. All the suspicions you had about Kieran were becoming worse and worse.

If he is cheating on me, you thought. What would I do?

The idea of divorcing him left your heart aching. Ever since you started dating him, you've never wanted to leave him, but cheating would mean you'd have to. While you loved him, you didn't love him enough to stay if he was living some second life with another woman. You gnawed on the edge of your thumb and curled your legs up to your chest.

If you divorced him, you'd have to find somewhere cheap to stay where you could still go to college and not sleep in the streets. No way your parents would let you stay with them until you got back onto your feet, they didn't like you marrying Kieran in the first place because of his delinquent behavior in school and the fact he wasn't going to college. They'd probably tell you 'I told you so' and let you rot.

The part-time job you had now wasn't enough to live in a decent apartment. The two of you lived on the outskirts of the city,  you wouldn't be able to afford a good apartment in the city closest to campus so you would have to settle in one of the apartment complexes near the beat-down part of the city, where a lot of reports of trafficking and crime were made.

A shiver shot down your spine. While the apartments there weren't the cleanest or nicest, the issue of rampant crime was the most concerning. You'd have to buy a taser or pepper spray, something like that. Or learn martial arts? You'd have to find a teacher that wasn't expensive.

Why am I even thinking about this?

Guilt crashed into you like a barreling stampede of horses. Tears blurred your vision as you nuzzled into the pillow and whimpered, muttering soft apologies under your breath. You hated how your mind worked. One thought and you'd take it and run, not giving the chance for hope and optimism to spark. You had to remind yourself for the umpteenth time that you didn't have any proof that Kieran was cheating.

You were the bad one for treating him like he was whenever you didn't know. At least, that was what you believed. Other wives acted better than you. They trusted their partners, but here you were, already daydreaming about your life if Kieran was cheating on you. Just a was.

Soft footsteps broke you from your thoughts.

The door creaked open and light poured into the dark. You stayed still under the blankets, face hidden away in the pillows to keep the sight of your tear-streaked face away from him. The floorboards creaked a little bit the bed shifted whenever you felt him sit down and lean across. His familiar touch grazed your cheek and traced the contours of your face. He sighed.

"Котик, are you awake?"

You didn't respond. Not this time.

He tugged the blankets down and there was another sigh. His fingers trailed farther downward and rubbed circles on your back and patterns that only he understood. He mumbled under his breath to himself. "She didn't change into something comfortable... not even the belt."

It took everything in your power to not move whenever his fingers fiddled with the metal clasp of your belt and he slipped them from the loops. He put the belt on the other side of the bed and the mattress shifted whenever he got closed, strands of his hair tickling your cheek whenever he leaned over. He pressed a kiss on your jaw.

"Ah fuck," he grumbled.

What is that supposed to mean?

Then there were more kisses; jaw, cheek, forehead, lips. He attacked you in kisses and every now and again he'd sigh and stop to trail his hands across your head or over your back. You could tell he refreshed his cologne. It was subtle but it was there, tickling your nose each time he moved to kiss another part of your face.

"Котик, if you're awake, I'll be back tomorrow evening and we can watch all the movies you want. I'm sorry I'm heading out again, but some people at work are being really stupid right now," he whispered against your ear. He kissed it tenderly. "I'll buy you your favorite ice cream on the way back home too. I know you'll be happy with that..."

There was a long pause. He didn't move.

"I love you."

Maybe he waited for you to respond, to say 'I love you' back, but you didn't. It wasn't that you didn't love him... god, the one reason why everything hurt so much was that you did, but you didn't dare to confess that you were pretending to sleep just to avoid talking to him. You didn't want Kieran to hear your voice cracking from crying. Especially since now, you knew he was leaving the house again.

You didn't believe him when he said it was work and you felt guilty that you didn't. He was an editor, he worked from home or his rented-out office, and it wasn't like he had people who worked underneath him.

"Котик, I'll make it up to you, I promise," he whispered.

He didn't say anything else except for a lingering kiss on your temple before he got off the bed. The weight of his body leaving felt more familiar than him being there. Kieran blew a breath and muttered something in Russian before he left the room. The door clicked shut behind him and you were left in the dark alone once more.

The emotions you felt earlier surged back up to the surface. Your nails bit into your palms and tears trickled down your cheeks and dropped onto the pillow. All you wanted was for him to get in bed with you, hold you, fall asleep, and still be there whenever you woke up the next morning.

So instead of facing them and bawling, you swallowed the lump in your throat and closed your eyes. Sleeping it off was better than facing it. Soon enough, you'd find out what he was hiding and what this "work" meant. Your small cries were muffled as you did your best to fall asleep before you got too heavy into your thoughts and cried even harder.

Luckily for you, sadness was exhausting, and you crashed before the clock hit midnight.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A/N ;

So you might have noticed the reader isn’t a Mary Sue or know it all. I tried to make her realistic, someone who’s insecure in her relationship, etc. So I hope that came across well. If you don’t like her, remember she’s human, she can change and develop in the story. She isn’t going to be perfect.

But anyway, did you enjoy this first chapter? You can also find it on my Wattpad and Quotev, which is listed on the top of my account. My discord server is also listed there! Remember to comment and heart if you enjoyed it.

[ Read P.2 ]

[narrycherries]

(1) how’s one to know..

harry is just an ass and she is just a stranger — series introduction, bit of angst (8.6k)

(2) an incandescent glow

She just wanted to have a fun night out, but Harry has a tendency to ruin things.. — angst and sadness filled (10.9k)

(3) putting roots in my dreamland

Despite wishing he didn’t exist, she had no choice but to be around him.. — short but necessary angst for the story (8.4k)

(4) and now I’m covered in you..

She can’t seem to keep herself out of trouble and it irritates him more than it should. — a scary situation creates a lot of conflicting thoughts for both characters.. angst (14.3k)

(5) magnificently cursed

She can’t seem to ignore him and he’s rather observant of her.. - angst, little dramatic incident (11.4k)

(6) clover blooms in the fields

She needs help and he just so happens to be the only one available.. - little angst, more fluff (tw: does mention surgical procedures) (12.3k)

(7) crescent moon, coast is clear

She was struggling to let go of her worrying thoughts, but he was determined to help her through it. — there’s some angst & fluff (15.2k)

(8) he’s gonna burn this house to the ground

He has added insult to injury and she gives him one chance to make it right. — bit of angst lots of fluff and dialogue (17.5k)

(9) for moments that we stole

She was trying to figure out how to understand her own body, and he was attempting to help as much as he could.. — includes fluff, angst, hints of smut but not smut, & jealously.. (29.7k)

this series is loosely inspired by the song ivy by taylor swift

more pics // more pics (2) // more pics (3)

part 8 teaser post (with photos)

part 9 teaser post (with photos)

‧₊˚ playlist ‧₊˚

(just a few songs that inspired this series & what I listen to while writing it :: these are my music preferences so if you don’t like them.. don’t listen) •••slight spoilers so be aware/you can skip over this•••

ivy - taylor swift

lie to girls - sabrina carpenter

my boy only breaks his favorite toys - taylor swift

norman fucking rockwell- lana del rey

right now - one direction

souvenir - selena gomez

something in the way - nirvana

fine line - harry styles

guilty as sin - taylor swift

cinnamon girl - lana del rey

brain stew- greenday

the next best american record - lana del rey

dancing with our hands tied - taylor swift

lips of an angel - hinder

tonight - zayn

small talk - niall horan

iris - goo goo dolls

so it goes - taylor swift

stay over - tove lo

love is a wild thing - kacey musgraves

false god - taylor swift

little freak - harry styles

crimson and clover - joan jett (& the blackhearts)

I can fix him (no really I can) - taylor swift

get stoned - hinder

angel - kacey musgraves

there you are - zayn

nobody gets me - sza

alone - heart

cardigan - taylor swift

lover of mine - 5sos

mateo- tove lo

strong - one direction

[urprettylildoe]

  𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

  ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Here are all the stories about all these perfectly sane boys. They don't bite unless you want them to (warning: yandere content ahead, do not read if uncomfortable)

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Yandere!football player (Blake)

♡ shackled: Every girl wanted to be with him and every guy wanted to be him, and to everyone around the world he was considered the embodiment of perfection. But there's more to what meets the eye, and you're one of the only people who know that very well.

Yandere!golden retriever (Hudson)

♡ something stupid: he loves you, no matter what.

Yandere!anti-cupid (Vexian)

♡ Stupid cupid: who would've though a cupid and anti-cupid had such chemistry? You certainly didn't.

Yandere!classmate (Adam)

♡ Twisted Blossom: a shy guy and a spoiled girl. What a cliché romance story, right? Wrong. You were his since the beginning, all you needed was some motivation to realise it.

♡ part 2: coming soon.

♡ more about our hacker: his ambitions with you.

♡ how he would tie you to his side

♡ brattiness: how bratty can you be and his limit.

♡ confession: if you finally become what he wants you to be.

Yandere!husband? (Dante)

♡ Echoes of deceit: The tragedy that has occured to your husband has suddenly undone, or has it? Things start to change and perhaps you have not been saved from a terrible fate, but destined to another.

♡ part 2 (coming soon till I'm able to post it).

Yandere!bodyguard (Matteo)

♡ Devotion: the lengths he'd go to in order to protect the precious jewel on his arm.

Yandere!farmer (Jeremy)

♡ life of tranquility: perhaps there would be an ulterior motive behind the peaceful life your spouse crafted for you.

♡ New life, new you: all u needed was a little push in the right direction to get used to reality.

♡ Family first: pregnancy drabble with our favourite guy.

♡ Meeting you: how y'all came to be and a couple of other questions.

♡ punishment: there isn't any room for acting up when you're his wife.

Yandere!prince (Alaric)

♡ Little pearl: how unfortunate. A mermaid stuck in the clutches of a spoiled royal.

♡ Little pearl 2: after your capture, you realised just how deep 'losing something to gain something better' meant to him.

OC'S information

♡ Them with a nympho reader?

♡ Them when you date all of them at once?

♡ Them when you're jealous?

♡ Them if you lock them out?

♡ Them if you work out?

♡ Them if you're stuck in the washing machine?

Coming soon...

♡ thin ice

His pale baby blue's crinkle with amusement and his hand, cold to the touch, cradles your cheek. "That's the thing, baby. I don't need anyone but you."

♡ deadly devotion: a mini series.

Masterlist

♡ a hunger for you.

"I would die for you, my darling. But would they?"

[damiansgoodgirll]

rhea ripley masterlist

love and thunder

it’s just me and you

hi barbie, hi ken

protector

you said you loved me

love you better

safe place

i care

he’s not worth your tears

new experiences

just tonight

5 minutes

too dramatic

a simple inconvenience

heartbeat

a comforting presence

always, remember?

caught in your spell

[kelcemenow]

Touchdown Travis Kelce x Reader

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Endzone

Birthday Suit Travis Kelce x Reader (request)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

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Chapter 1 Chapter 2

[maudie-duan]

A/N: Okay! So it's here! The final part! This was already fun to write, but you guys made it even more fun, and I appreciate you dearly!

Tag List: Always Open

Changes Masterlist<-

Word Count: 9.8k

Warnings: 18+, Language, Smut, Eating Disorder, Talk of Pregnancy, Mentions of Abortion, Teen Angst, Emotions. (If I miss anything, let me know.)

Two and a half hours was a long time to sit in silence, and that’s exactly what we did.

I don’t know why I chose that moment, but everything about that night was so overwhelming. What were we doing here when everything outside this little world we created was up in flames? Each flame was a burst of reality lapping at my feet until I tried to find a way to extinguish it. It was like Harry didn’t want to see it like he was choosing not to.

He told me he loved me, destroying my world in two seconds. They were words I would have longed to hear, words I’ve only dreamed of him saying, and I felt the same. 

In my heart, I knew I truly did love the guy he was in those moments when we didn’t have to think; we could just be, but here I was carrying around this burden that kept stealing these tiny moments from under my feet—a chastising reminder that the world as I knew it was about to end and there was nothing Harry could do to change that.

I couldn’t just be in the moment without thinking about this thing, this baby, or whatever it was; I didn’t even know if it had a heartbeat, and to be honest, I didn’t want to know. 

I didn’t want to know anything about what this could turn into. I knew exactly where this would lead, and what could I do with a baby? What would Harry and I do with a baby? Raise it, I know, but I didn’t want to raise a baby when I hadn’t even gotten a chance to be me, figure out the person outside of the life I’ve always known. 

I’ve always had a plan that didn’t include a baby or Harry. I had let the idea of Harry go a long time ago, and nowhere did it include me falling in love right before I could finally get away, break free of this person

Me.

Become someone who didn’t have to fit into the mold that was created for them—I needed to be free. 

I know now that I didn’t go about it the right way.

Even though I felt like my world was crumbling around me. I still felt his words settling deep into my bones, and when we got to the car, all smiles, his hand in mine, I wanted to stay in that feeling. I wanted one last moment before I had to yank the rug out from underneath us.

So, I did what I knew we were both good at. Looking back, I know it was wrong, but I wasn’t ready to let Harry go. 

I knew I would have to let him go tomorrow. When our world finally split back into two, and we couldn’t be this, what we were when we were together, stay in the comfort of knowing he felt the same way because it wasn’t real.

I felt him humming through my body as we pushed our way through the crowd, stepping out into the cold. I watched the fog of his breath rise into the night sky like a secret only I knew. When we locked eyes, he smiled, his mouth tilting slightly, his dimple dipping. He licked his lips, and I knew—I felt it buzzing deep in my belly.

The want, the need.

When we got to the car, the windows were fogged over, the drop in the night temperature on our side, and when he opened my car door, I slid in, gazing up in time to catch the crooked smile playing at his lips as people passed behind him, on their way to their cars.

I followed his shadow through the windshield, clutching at my jacket to warm up, my breath coming out in puffs of clouds dissipating every time I took another. My heart was racing, and when the door handle clicked open, I turned in my seat to face him, surveying him as he slid into the driver’s seat, Harry looking over as soon as he was in. 

Harry shifted his seat back, not wasting any time, and then leaned forward, turning on the car—the cold air blasting through the vent hit my skin like ice as I shimmed out of my jacket. Harry did the same, a knowing smile playing on our lips. I shoved my boots off, lifted my hips off the seat to reach under my dress, and slid my panties off.

“God—that’s so fucking hot—” He breathes, leaning in to kiss me, then I pull away, turning the dial of the radio up as ‘Talk Show Host’ by Radiohead blares through the speakers. I swear it couldn’t have been any more perfect, the song feeding into our hunger, and then the sound of Harry’s belt buckles fills the car, metal scraping together, and I’m fucking salivating, peering over at him, his face so serious.

When his jeans are past his hips, his hard dick springs up, a pleasant surprise every time. I’m on my knees in a matter of seconds, reaching over to wrap a cold hand around his shaft, and he sucks a breath through his teeth, wincing at the chill, but as soon as I wrap my warm mouth around the head of his penis, he gasps, slowly relaxing into the pleasure.

“Fuck—baby, that’s so good—” he praises, spurring me on, and I want to do this. I want to make him feel good; this part I know I’m good at, a people pleaser, a pleasure giver, whatever you want, I’ll do it because that’s who I’ve been this whole time.

Then he says, “Baby—” and I peek up at him, taking in his face as he bites down on his lower lip, his head falling back against the headrest—and it’s so easy to take, and when Harry tells me he wants me, now, he wants me on top; He needs me now. 

I climb into his lap, wanting to give myself freely—whatever he wants, it’s his—he can have every single piece of me if that means I get to have him just like this, in this moment, carrying this memory for a lifetime, hoping deep in my bones that I’ll never forget.

I’m in his lap then, stretching past him to tilt the seat back further, Harry pushing his weight into the seat until it jostles us backward, my hand flying to the headrest as my heart beats faster with the sudden shift, and we both laugh, Harry, reaching for my face to kiss me.

The kiss is sloppy—wet mouths driving together as one of Harry’s hands moves away, then he lifts my dress, grabs my hips, and yanks me forward, and I feel his hard dick hit my inner thigh. He releases my face then, hurriedly guiding himself into me, the head of his cock opening me up, teasing my entrance, and I bear down onto him, pushing hard with my hips, fast, stealing his breath in one quick motion, his thick dick stretching me to my limits.

And then my only thought is, god, this couldn’t get any better; could it get better than this? 

This feeling is all-encompassing; it’s everything all at once, stealing me, taking me away, and all I want is to feel good—This feels good, this feels amazing, and his name keeps falling from my mouth, over and over. Then he says, “Marlowe—” a pained look in his eyes like he’s about to ruin it all, and I pick up the pace, needing this one thing, and he’s trying to take it away.

He seizes my hips then, pushing and pulling me back and forth, deepening the friction, and I yell out his name, overtaken by the sensation, trying to find purchase of my surroundings as I fall back into the steering wheel; a quick sound of the horn, alarming us to a momentary halt. Then Harry laughs, panic snatching me, and I clutch at my chest, trying to catch my breath as Harry thrusts his hips upward, bobbing me upward, nudging us back into motion.

My hand flies to the cold window, balancing myself, not wanting a repeat of the horn, “Love this—” Harry groans softly, a knot forming in my throat, and I close my eyes then, trying to stay in the moment. My back arches over the steering wheel, grasping at the windshield as my feet come up to the tops of his thighs, flat, finding stability, as I bounce my hips up and down, straining to find that same rhythm as before.

Harry’s hands seize my hips again, gliding up to my waist, and I press a palm into the dash, holding myself up as I reach my dress, giving him a better view, my eyes roaming his face while he takes me in, pulling me down harder, deeper, “Just like—that—” I force between moans, the smile growing on his face, and I wish this could be enough, but this could never be enough and we both know that. 

And he’s pulling, and I’m pushing, and we’re both just pulling and pushing, taking and giving, and giving away until there’s nothing left because what will be left of us after this? When reality hits, when this is no longer our safe space.

“Baby—” He cries out.

“I’m getting close…” He breathes, and I nod, smiling down at him because he knows I love it when he says those words, that I love the idea of making him feel good, how the idea of us is just enough to push me over the edge.

All it takes is one last thrust, and I’m losing myself. Holding my breath as I succumb to the pressure, the tension knotting in my lower belly, and fall forward and wrap my arms around Harry’s neck, my whole body tensing, uncoiling as he says, “God—I love you—” He breathes, tightening his hold on me, “I love you so much, fuck—” And I feel him release inside me, burying his face into the crook of my neck.

It’s pain and pleasure, but where does one end and the other begins?

 I’m sinking into it, gasping for air, as Harry pants, hot puffs of air, and suddenly it’s so hot, the heat blazing through the vents—it’s too much—every touch and sound is becoming too much, nausea building in the pit of my stomach, pulling at my throat, and I’m sick; sick with the thought of all of it, and Harry is talking, and I can’t hear a thing past the pounding in my eardrums. 

And I have to force myself off of Harry, his face becoming a blur as I move away, fumbling over the gearshift, climbing into the passenger seat, my head spinning, and I can’t hear what he’s saying.

What is he saying?

That nauseous feeling is rising, dizzying, and I reach for the door handle, yanking it open as my head spills out into the cold air of the night, welcoming, as I heave up everything in my stomach, retching until there’s nothing left and I’m gasping for air; eyes watering, or maybe I’m crying, I can’t tell. Then Harry is pulling me back into the car, tugging the door closed from behind me, then falls back into his seat, giving me space.

And then I ruin it all by saying, “I’m getting an Abortion…” I confess, sucking in a deep breath, my chest rising and falling with the effort it takes to draw in a single breath, and I pull at the hem of my dress, feeling exposed, disgusted by my own decision, but I don’t have any other choice because there’s never going to be a right time to tell him.

I can’t even look at Harry; I can’t see the disappointment. I think he wanted something different, something that I couldn’t give. When I hear him move and shift around in his seat, I sneak a glance, enough to see that he’s angry, “Harry?”

“Don’t—” He starts, his voice breaking, and he clears his throat, “I don’t want to talk right now—”

“But—” I push.

“Seriously—!” he yells, shutting me down. Then he starts the car, cracks the windows, and switches the air to Defrost while I buckle my seat and lean down to shove my shoes back on.

The whole ride was me biting back sobs, on and off, while Harry sat there like a statue made of stone, impenetrable, icing me out in a way I didn’t think was possible. 

Confused, I found myself apologizing repeatedly, annoying myself and making him even angrier. 

His silence weighed heavy until I felt like I no longer existed, a mere ghost of myself. Every word I could have said vanished, leaving a hollow of what we could have been because there was no coming back from this, and I felt it as soon as Harry jerked to a stop in the driveway. He cut the engine and yanked the house key from my hand. Storming off toward the house, and I sat there until he was through the door, unsure of what to do. 

In his madness, Harry left the front door wide open. I could hear him stomping around upstairs, so I ran to the stairs, taking them two at a time, knowing exactly what he was doing. I couldn’t let him leave this house, not yet.

“Are we not going to talk about this?” I ask, bursting through the doorway.

“What is there to talk about? You’ve already made up your mind,” He spits, shoving clothes into his bag.

And his line silences me, “You didn’t bother talking to me about it before, so why does it matter now?” He adds, rushing around.

“Can you just stop for a second so we can talk?” I plead.

“I don’t want to talk, Marlowe, because I know whatever I say is not going to change your mind…so what’s the point?” He yells.

“So you wanted to keep it? Is that what this is?” I question, attempting to keep my voice calm.

“It doesn’t matter—Marlowe, let’s just drop it—”

“This does matter—this matters?” I push.

“What matters?” He laughs, a smug smile stealing his features.

“Us—” I force, second-guessing my words because his pointed stare makes me feel small, crushing me into tiny pieces.

“Really—?” Harry slams his bag to the ground, making me jump. “Do we matter?” He asks, a dry laugh slipping out with his harsh words. 

“If we mattered, then why didn’t you include me in your decision?” 

“I did! I told you I was pregnant, didn’t I?” I speak up.

“And if I hadn’t asked that day, would you have even said anything?” He pushes his anger back in full swing.

I shrug, “I don’t know—”

Then he shakes his head, pissed, “See—” he says, brows jutting up like I just proved his point.

“Harry, I was never going to keep it…” I scream at a breaking point.

“You mean, the baby—our baby?” he corrects me, breaking my heart all over again.

“Is it even a baby?” I question, wondering if he’s really thought this part through.

“It’s a baby to me—!” he yells at the top of his lungs, and this sets me off; we could have talked about this; at any point, he could have spoken up.

“So what was your end game here? Were we just going to have this “baby” and live happily ever after?” I ask.

“God—Marlowe…” he breathes, shaking his head, “Can’t you see all the work I’ve been trying to put in…trying to show you that we could do this? That I was on board.” 

“You mean the way we’ve been closing ourselves off from the world?” I question.

“Is that what we’ve been doing?” he shouts, throwing his arms up in the air—and was this what he was doing this whole time? Were all the baby facts him showing me he was on board? Was I supposed to take that as a green light, like yeah, let’s have this baby?

“Are you joking right now?” I spit.

“In what way do you think I’m joking?” He asks, ripping a hand through his hair.

“Because we can’t just pretend, Harry…We can’t just play house and act like this isn’t going to fuck up everything we’ve planned outside of this one thing—”

My words land hard, and I watch as he takes a step back, his jaw clenching, “ You mean what you’ve planned for your life…your life, Marlowe—”

“But what about you, Harry? Why are you so quick to throw your life away? It doesn’t make any sense…” I ask, frustration aching in my bones—and I’m drowning in it.

I thought the question would stump him and help him see everything more clearly, but then he says, “Is it really throwing my life away if it’s for you? Isn’t that what you want? I thought you wanted me.” Then his face breaks, the stone facade coming down with it.

“Harry…why does it have to be one or the other?”

“Because I can’t live with the thought of you going through with it…” he forces.

And I shake my head, my shoulders slumping, “Harry, this is real…this baby—if that’s what you want to call it…is a real thing, and what we’re doing right now…Harry, we’re just kids—I still feel like a kid—I don’t know what to do with a baby—” I tell him, moving closer to him, my voice lowering. 

“Can’t we just try?” Harry begs, tears streaking his cheeks. “I know we can do this—I promise I’ll be perfect…” 

He grabs my face in his hands, stroking away the tears that are spilling, blurring my vision. “Marlowe, I swear to you…I know that we can do this…” he pleads. 

For a second, I believe him; in fact, I know he would be great, but I don’t think I would because I’m mad just thinking about the fact that he’s pushing this so hard, and what? Would I hate him later, when it all feels too hard, and I’m trapped like I’ve been trapped here my whole life, and the only opportunity to leave is just a few months away, that’s all, and for once, I just want to fucking choose me.

“Harry…” I breathe as he presses his lips to my forehead, his hand moving to the back of my neck, deepening the kiss.

“Yes…” He whispers, and I grab hold of his shirt, clutching at the fabric, my throat tightening with the words I’m about to say.

“I don’t want to have this baby…” And I grasp his shirt harder, swallowing the burn each word left behind, waiting for him to speak, but he doesn’t say a thing. He just continues to press into the kiss, forcing his lips into my skin, his grip tensing around my neck as he shoves my head into his mouth so hard that it starts to hurt. 

He swallows then, biting back a small whimper that dies in his throat, and pulls away with such force that it knocks me back a few steps, anger riddling his face, etched so deep that it scares me, pinning me in place with his stare, but I can’t let go, and I’m stretching his shirt as he tries to move away, and then he says:

“I don’t have anything else to say to you—” with such finality that it stills my blood, a cold sweat glazing over my palms, my grip weakening. He yanks his shirt from my hands, then snatches his bag from the ground and pushes past me, but I don’t chase him, and when I hear the sound of the door slamming, I just stand there, lost in the aftermath of what just happened. Knowing that no matter what I say to him right now, it won’t change a thing

I didn’t sleep that night. I moved around the house, resetting anything that looked out of place, washing the bedding, showering, and keeping myself busy. At one point, I turned my phone off so that I would have to consciously make the decision to call or text him.

Add a barrier in a moment of weakness. 

Why was it so easy to walk away? Did it have to be one or the other? Could we have walked away from this as friends? Or was it always going to end this way, two halves of a heart going their separate ways? 

Once I got home the next day, I crawled into bed, exhausted, already feeling like days had passed since I saw him last, since I heard his voice. 

He never took his hoodie, and I’ll never know if he did it on purpose or if he forgot it in the fury of leaving because he also left his toothbrush and his cologne that he had left on the bathroom sink.

I stayed in bed for days, knowing I had a whole week before I had to go back to school. My mom would come in throughout the day with trays of food and snacks, but they just sat there until she came back, the thought of food making my stomach churn. Then I would find myself hunched over the toilet, sometimes my mom silently holding my hair back and tucking me back into bed with a cold bottle of Pedialyte, that becoming the only thing I could keep down during my sporadic windows of consciousness. 

Every once in a while, I would stare at the label reading “Kids Approved Taste” and wonder if my mom still thought I was a kid, and then I would start to cry, wanting to stay her kid forever, not ready for the changes, knowing what needed to be done. Every new day was a constant reminder that something was growing in me, sucking the life from me, ruining everything in its wake.

It became this vicious cycle, my mom not giving up and me not giving in, and on the last day of my suspension, she had enough of my bullshit; she called my dad in.

“Marlowe—” He yells from down the hall, after hearing his limit of me and my mom going back and forth, “Listen to me right now—we don’t know what’s going on with you—” He booms as he pushes through the cracked door.

“I’m working on the biggest case of the year right now. Whatever the hell is going on right now needs to stop this instant—”

“Greg—” My mom attempts.

But my dad is cutting her off, “You have what? Two months left, and you’re trying to pull this shit? Over what, Marlowe? A breakup?” 

I swallow hard and glance from him to my mom, trying to bite back the sob bubbling up in my chest, and he must see this, “Marlowe—” He says, ripping his glasses off, and he presses his thumb and index finger to the bridge of his nose, then looks at my mom, who’s signaling for him to calm down.

“Please—Greg—” She tells him with a firm edge to her tone, and he nods, taking a deep breath.

“All I’m saying…is that you’ve put in all this work, and now I’d hate to see it all go down the drain over a guy who will mean nothing as soon as you go away to college…and honestly, Honey, none of us liked Trent to begin with…”

My mom cleared her throat as his last line landed. I wasn’t even thinking of Trent this whole time, which only made Harry’s absence more apparent than ever—driving home the fact that no one will ever know my suffering because no one even knows that we ever existed.

 The realization felt like a gut punch, forcing the air from my lungs, and I’m sobbing all over again, mourning a boy that was never mine to begin with—a gut-wrenching longing that only he could stir in me, yet the feeling is familiar, and even though my nieve heart had once ached for him long ago, I could never imagine it feeling like this—Earth-shattering, and is this what love is? I would crawl on my hands and knees for him, do anything he wanted, but I knew what he would want, and it’s the one thing I can’t give.

My pride wouldn’t let me go to school; looking like hell swarmed over me. I wanted to look amazing. I needed to walk into that school like nothing had phased me, unbothered by Trent, not let Harry catch me down, become the same sorry case I’ve been since—I don’t know before we existed.

Monday was fine; nobody acted or treated me any differently. Harry was the only one I couldn’t face, but he didn’t show up until Wednesday. Ignoring me, not even glancing my way when he passed me in the hallway—and me being pathetic—I couldn’t look away, feeling that magnetic pull, like a kick to the shin, an acute pain, straight to the bone, writhing in the misery of it until it went away, but it lingered, steadily looming over my head at the very mention of his name. 

For the first time, I didn’t have any friends or people that I wanted to associate with. Skylar had proven how shitty of a friend she was when I saw her cuddled up to Trent in the lunch room, but I didn’t have the energy to care; I just found an empty table and sat alone, shoving my headphones into my ears, to drown out the noise.

On Thursday, I found a way to leave Biology early, so I didn’t have to pass by Harry. It made the rest of the day more manageable, and I left thinking, maybe I could do this, until Friday rolled around, and that’s when the rumors started circulating.

At lunch, I sat at my table alone, trying to ignore the constant eyes on me. I had no clue why everyone was staring, suddenly interested in what I was doing, so I tried to brush it off and opened my Math book to catch up on one of the assignments that had fallen by the wayside. That’s when Skylar had the nerve to march over and open her dumb fucking mouth:

“Hey—” she says, slamming her hands down on my table. I look up at her, raising a brow, wondering what the hell she wants, and pull one of my earbuds out.

“What—” I spit, shaking my head.

She laughs, sending me a bitchy smile, like what she’s about to say just tickles her, “I just wanted to see how you were doing after that Abortion…” She asks, with a snide tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell her, trying to play dumb.

She crosses her arms then, “Are you sure? Because rumor has it that you definitely did—” Then she leans down, lowering her voice, “And I heard it wasn’t even Trents.” 

“Wow…that’s cool…” I forced, keeping my reaction neutral even though my heart was racing because I could brush off the first part, but how would she know about the second part?

“I was shocked…I didn’t think you had it in you to cheat on Trent…even he was shocked—” She expresses, placing a hand over her heart.

I interrupt her then, “Why are you wasting your time with this, Skylar? You already have Trent. Why are you acting like I didn’t know you were fucking my boyfriend, and does it look like I care?” 

Her face drops, then, “Exactly, dude, I don’t fucking care. Now, please leave me alone and go torture one of the many minions you have surrounding yourself over there, and fuck off…”

“You were always such a bitch anyway, Marlowe,” She huffs

I shrug, sending her my sweetest smile, “Well—Skylar—It takes one to know one…” Then she storms off as I catch Trent staring over at my table. He purses his lips together and shakes his head with disgust, and I sink into my chair and turn my music up, acting as if nothing had just happened, even though I was shaken to my core.

I thought it would blow over during the weekend. However, the rumors were still spreading like wildfire, burning through friend group after friend group until the condoms started appearing on my table at lunch, placed in my seat before class, becoming a run-on joke that no one wanted to drop. 

No one truly knew if the rumor was true; the only one who knew my plan was Harry. Would he do that to me? Throw me under the bus like he had nothing to do with a single aspect of this. Could I not trust him? Was he not trustworthy?

 Would he hurt me even more because he knew he could?

By Wednesday, I had enough of the bullshit. I needed to talk to him, so I showed up at his house after school, and when I knocked on the door, his mom let me in.

“Harry—!” She called up the stairs, “I’m Anne…are you a friend of Harry’s? He’s never had a girl over—”

“Marlowe?” He interjects halfway down the stairs, his eyes flicking from me to his mom, who had just reached her hand out to shake mine.

“Marlowe?” She repeats, “Well, that’s a lovely name, Dear,” the compliment rolling off her tongue with a thick accent. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks, cutting through the niceties with a sharp edge to his tone as Anne’s eyes widen.

“Harry—” She warns.

“I’m sorry mom…” He tells her, stepping down the last few steps.

She crosses her arms with a stern look, “Now, don’t apologize to me. Apologize to Marlowe… you’re the one with that nasty tone.”

“I’m sorry—Marlowe—” He forces through gritted teeth.

Her eyes swept to me, and then she said, “I was just putting dinner on. Will you be staying for dinner, Dear?”

“No—” Harry jumps in, “No—she was just dropping something off, right Marlowe,” And forced a smile to his face.

“Yeah—That’s it…” I lie, then he pushes past me, and I smile over at Anne like everything is fine, thinking that Harry got his sweet temperament from her, but this side of him feels venomous, every word biting to kill.

I follow him, closing the door behind me, “I don’t have much time. I have a lot of homework to make up—” He announces, pointedly like he’s tossing blame toward me. 

“Okay…should we talk in my car?” I ask, and he doesn’t respond. He just walks in that direction, pulling at the handle, waiting for me to unlock it, and I nervously fidget with the button, accidentally locking it twice, then finally managing to unlock it when I’m at the driver’s side, and we both climb in.

“What’s up,” He says as soon as we’re in. He’s gazing out the windshield, clenching his jaw.

His stance is making me nervous, wanting to call this off already, second-guessing why I’m even doing this in the first place. “Well…I wanted to talk to you about the rumors going around school?” I tell him 

“What about them?” He questions.

“Well—I don’t know—they’re like pretty specific.” I try to explain without any hint of blame.

His eyes flick to me then, “Yeah—I know…” And this is already like pulling teeth, his vague sentences starting to rile me up.

“I’m just wondering if you maybe…like said something by accident…? or maybe you thought you could trust someone, and maybe it got out?” I coax, keeping my voice calm, trying to placate his mood.

“I don’t know, Marlowe…” is all he says, looking away again.

It’s not a “no,” and I’m torn on how to continue. So, I turn and look out my window, my stomach twisting in knots, “Look—Harry starts.

“Someone was talking about you being pregnant, whether you would be showing when you got back, and I made some dumb comment like..I don’t know—like you probably got an abortion while you were gone…”

And he shakes his head, “I really didn’t think anything of it. I was mad at the time, and then it just got blown out of proportion…”

I’m staring at him, but something about his face no longer looks the same, like he’s changed, this angry side of him, ruining his best features, becoming the douchebag I pictured in the past; then he says, “It’s not that big a deal…”

I literally laugh out loud, making him jump, a crazed wonderment washing over me, “You can’t be fucking serious—” I snap.

“What? It will blow over. Just give it another week…” he tells me.

I shake my head, “You know what—I don’t even know who you are anymore…”

“Oh, come on—” he quips.

“No, I’m serious…in what world is it cool to throw me under the bus like that…like even if you’re mad…”

“Please, don’t tell me you’re coming over to lecture me about right from wrong…” he says, rolling his eyes, his head falling against the headrest—over the conversation already.

And then I slam my hand against the steering wheel hard, the pain reverberating through my wrist, and he sits up, “This is exactly why I’m not doing this. You’re acting like spreading rumors isn’t a big fucking deal…Well—I’m sure it’s not when no one knows this is you’re fucking “baby.” I yell.

“You need to grow up and stop acting like a fucking asshole—it’s not a good look for you—” I add.

He laughs, “I need to grow up—? Who tells someone they’re falling in love but then turns around and can’t even have a simple conversation with them?”

“Harry, we could have had as many conversations as you wanted…you could have brought it up too, at any point. Why are you acting like none of this was a two-way street? I shout, unable to keep my cool because he’s acting like a child, and it’s pissing me off. 

Harry looks me dead in the eyes, then “And would it have changed your answer?” And then I swallow my silence enough.

“Exactly—” He hisses, then yanks the door open and gets out of the car, slamming it so hard that I thought the glass would shatter.

The condoms never stopped coming. I thought the talk of prom would shift everyone’s attention, but it only seemed to add to the problem, feeding supply to the endless jokes that continued to come. I swore I would never have sex again if it meant this would go away—If it meant that everyone would shut the fuck up already. 

Two weeks had passed since then, and I still wasn’t in the clear. All I had to do was make it to next Monday, the day I was scheduled for my procedure—to rid myself of this whole situation and never look back. 

On Thursday, instead of our usual morning classes, we had our Senior Recognition Ceremony. The final trophies and awards would be handed out during the assembly, and the colleges of those who had already been accepted would be announced.

I kept looking at the clock, wishing it would move faster so I didn’t have to sit crammed next to Milyy Jenkins, her elbow grazing my arm every time she moved, listening to her voice, wondering if that’s how she sounded under Harry, a deep pang of jealousy in my gut because I had already heard Harry was taking her to prom.

It’s crazy how he’s just continued with his life, not suffering a single consequence and taking Miley to prom. As if I wouldn’t hear about it, as if it wouldn’t tear me to shreds. It’s not like I wanted him to take me—I can’t even go as part of my suspension—but isn’t it ironic since I know they’ve already fucked? 

Is he going to have sex with her? Was everything he said a lie? I don’t even know what to believe anymore. Was this his last attempt to drive the hurt further? Because I’m already suffocating with it, what’s left? 

There were several surprises during that assembly: One, I didn’t realize how well-rounded Harry was academically; he was up on the stage more than anyone. Not to mention that he had already been accepted into five different impressive colleges, each new fact chipping away at my soul, realizing how much he was willing to sacrifice.

The thought made my head spin, but when the Principal asked which school he thought he would attend. His voice rasped into the microphone, ripping through my body, and said, “I plan on moving back to England to attend the same Uni as my sister.”

All the girls around me gasped, but I knew this was a new decision because now he was going to run away, and maybe he was still sacrificing a lot since I’m sure this had everything to do with my choice; then his eyes swept to mine, and I tried not to flinch. 

“Alright, Mr. Styles, Well, we are certainly proud of all your hard work here. I think we can all see that you have great things in store for you, wherever the future may take you…” Harry’s eyes moved from mine back to the Principal, flashing a charming smile.

“Why don’t you go line up with others over there, son,” The Principal says, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder, then points to the rest of the Seniors lined up behind him. 

My eyes follow Harry as he strolls toward the row of students waiting for the assembly to end. “And now I want to recognize these last two students. Who were both accepted to another prestigious school. This is kind of a rare case for us here, so we just wanted to give them a little shout out, let them know how proud we are…”

“Marlowe Asher and Miley Jenkins—” He announces, and my heart drops, my palms going sweaty, and I grip the armrest as the girl next to me nudges me, urging me to head to the stage. 

I stand then, making my way down the row because, of course, I would be stuck in the middle; it can never be easy. Then someone gropes my butt, but they’re too quick, and I don’t catch who out of the three guys it could have been. All three of them are smiling, and honestly, I just want to make it to the stage without drawing any more attention to myself, so I brush it off and continue past the last two people in the row.

Miley was on stage from a previous award, and the Principal was already asking her what her plans were and what she would study. When I finally made it next to Miley, she sent me a genuine smile, an excited look on her face, so I smiled back. Then she turns back to the Principal and finishes with:

“I think it will be awesome to have someone I know from my hometown there. College seems pretty scary…” Then some guy in the audience yells my name, “Yeah—Marlowe!” followed by a catcall somewhere else in the crowd, and she glances over at me, face dropping slightly.

I run a hand through my hair, pulling down the hem of my shirt, feeling hollow and gross, wondering why I wore such tight jeans, “That’s enough, guys,” the principal scolds, then Miley passes the microphone, the thud of it hitting my shaky hand sounds around the auditorium, and she gives me a slight nod of support.

“Marlowe Asher…” the Principal starts, “You Asher sisters have left quite a legacy for this school—” 

“Yeah, she did—” a dude shouts, followed by a small roar of laughter, and I shift on my feet, my eyes darting to the ground.

The Principal clears his throat, ignoring the comment, “Miley just shared her plans for next year with us. What will your plans be?”

Then a girl yells, “Probably get knocked up!” and my eyes flick to the crowd as the room erupts into laughter, and I can’t see anyone’s faces because the light beaming down on the stage are too fucking bright, and I’m locking my knees so hard that I think I might pass out. 

This throws everyone else off on stage. Teachers peer around at each other, dumbfounded, as the Principal tries to calm the audience. Miley wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling us back toward the line of Seniors on stage; my eyes cast downward, afraid to look anyone in the eye.

Miley spots the microphone still in my hand, takes it, and returns it to the Principal. When she doesn’t return to her original spot in line, she pushes me closer to Harry, our arms grazing, and I cup a hand over my arm, drawing it close to my body. 

Everything about his presence consumed me. The second we touched, his scent drifted toward me, a tingle up my arm. His scent filled my senses with everything familiar about him—and he was standing there next to me, so still, that stone statue back, so close but a million miles away. 

Did he care at all? 

Did he feel bad? 

When I tried to sneak a glance, the slightest turn of my head revealed his face was flat and rigid; jaw clenched as he clasped his hands behind his back. Was he angry? Was he still mad at me? And when I turn my head to really take him in, he shifts on his feet, then moves away, and crosses in front of me without a look, and stands on the other side of Miley, leans in, and whispers something into her ear, and her laugh slices me open the second it falls from her perfect mouth. 

Rejection for anyone was a hard truth to face, but no one did it like Harry. 

No one has ever scratched the surface long enough to cut this deep, make me feel like a hollowed-out version of myself, starving for the slightest morsel of a crumb, just a fucking speck of recognition; how could it not hurt him? —Him hurting me. Did he not feel anything? Did this not matter?

Because I believed him when he said, “I love you,” that it wasn’t just a passing phrase. I thought at most that we were friends, that there would be a friendship. He wanted love, a lover—isn’t that what lovers do? They love one another until they’re deep in their bones, so deep that they leave their mark for the world to see.

Maybe the world will never know the mark that Harry left on my life, but I’ll know the feeling for a lifetime. 

What was love for him? Love for me was me making the best decision for us both, and maybe he hates me now, but will he hate me forever? Will there ever be a time when he realizes it was for the best? Will he be able to look back and see the good and not hate me for the worst because he felt bigger than any of the bad? We felt bigger; maybe we couldn’t last forever, but the ending should have mattered. We knew there was an ending; it mattered how it ended because I couldn’t bear the thought of this ending, of never talking to him again. 

On Friday, as Harry was about to pass me in the hall, I stepped in front of him, trying to make one last desperate attempt to smooth things over, “Can we talk?” I murmured as people passed around us, no one really paying attention except for a few random stares.

“Have you changed your mind?” he asks, his tone bitter.

“Harry…Please…” I silently pleaded, knowing he was about to walk away.

Then he tries to push past me, “I have nothing to say, Marlowe—” He spits as my hand presses flat against his chest, trying to hold him in place. 

“Harry—” I beg, his gaze harsh as he stares down at me.

“Hey, Styles—” A girl shouts, and I turn to spot Miley and Andy about to pass. Their stares flick to my hands on Harry’s chest, catching us in the middle of my distress, and I drop my hands just as Miley locks eyes with me, and I look away as they pass, feeling embarrassed by what this might look like.

“I’ve gotta go…I can’t be late for class,” Harry’s voice is gravel over my skin, pushing past me; my eyes follow, and I will myself not to scream his name because that’s all I want to do is fucking scream because I am so alone, he left me alone in this, and now I have no one as I stand in the middle of this hallway, trying not to cry because his constant refusal is etching away at what little I have left.

And if it couldn’t get any worse, as soon as I walked into the lunchroom, I was greeted by Trent, who was on his way out the doors, bumping into me and nearly knocking me over. 

When he puts a hand on my shoulder to steady me, his eyes roam down my body, then back to my face, and I knock his hand off my shoulder, disgusted by his approving eyes, “Man, it’s a shame I won’t be able to see you in that prom dress—” He says with a smirk on his face, the scab on his lip, fading.

“Whatever—” I breathe, trying to push past him, and his hands come up to my waist, pinning me in place.

He smiles then, “No, seriously…you’re looking good, Marlowe—” And he sounds genuine, but this approval is making me lose what little appetite I had, and I roll my eyes because he thinks I look good—What’s a few more pounds lost to stress, just enough to finally win Trent’s acceptance, that’s it—Starve myself until those low rise jeans he loved finally hang off my hip bones.

I shake my head and look away, then he pinches my side, and I shove his hands away, nausea rising to the back of my throat, “Fuck off, Trent—” I seeth, and he raises his hands in mock defense, backing away with a stupid fucking smile on his face.

And right on cue, there’s a scatter of condoms spread across the table, and I run my arm across the surface, swiping them to the ground, then sit, acting as if this isn’t about to set me off. That’s when Miley walks up to my table, kicking a few out of the way, “These people are fucking idiots…” She breathes, and I shrug my shoulders, silently peering up at her.

This girl is the epitome of everything I want to be at this moment: tall, blonde, athletic, kind; the girl that will get the guy, and she has no clue—no clue how lucky she’ll get to be when Harry holds her in his arms, sharing every slow dance at prom, the pictures, the kiss that was guaranteed to happen, and if I’ve learned anything, how easy it is to fall into bed with someone, the hard part was over, they had already had sex, now it will be like riding a bike, their bodies already familiar to one another.

“Hey…I’m sorry to bother you—” Miley starts.

“You’re not bothering me—” I tell her, trying to set her at ease because she looks nervous.

“I just wanted to tell you that I think it’s cool that we’ll be going to the same school…” Then she smiles.

“I know, ” I agree, returning the smile because she’s making it so easy; her easygoing smile beaming down at me feels like the only warmth I’ve had all day.

She shrugs. “Well—” Then she reaches into her back pocket, “I wrote my number on a piece of paper…I don’t know—in case you wanted to, like, meet up before, or like after we’re there…I won’t know anyone.”

“Same,” I say, clearing my throat, choking up at the thought of this small gesture, at the idea of having a friend who seemed brave enough to brave the stares of everyone around us.

“Thank you,” I smile, glancing down at the tiny piece of paper because it’s hard to stare into her big blue eyes without wanting to cry.

She shifts on her feet, “Well, you’re welcome to sit with us…” She invites, jabbing her thumb toward her table, and my eyes flick in that direction, Harry’s whole table staring over at us, except for him. Something about the scowl on Andy’s face seemed like an attempt to ward me off, so I politely declined.

“Don’t worry about Andy…She’s like that with everyone. When I told them what I was doing, Harry—” And my ears perk up at the mention of his name.

“He was the one that said to invite you…” She finishes, and then we both look over. Harry’s eyes, now concentrated on our interaction, and maybe I stare a little too long because when my eyes flit back to Meily, she’s watching me, eyes searching my face, and my eyes move to my table as I scoot upright in my chair.

“I actually have a lot of homework…my family is going on a trip next week. So, I’ll probably just do this…” I lie, my eyes falling on the books in front of me. 

She smiles, “That’s fair…well…I’m sure that offer stands…so if you get tired of sitting alone…You know where to find me…” Then she gives me a small wave and backs away from the table, awkwardly, but to be expected, because she probably hoped I would jump at the offer. 

After she walks away, I dive into my homework. I had gone around to all my classes warning them that I would be gone, organizing everything because I didn’t know how long I would be out after everything, after the process—From what I’ve read, everyone’s body handles the abortion procedure differently, depending on how far along you were.

I never attempted to figure out how far along I was. I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to look up information later and find out that the damn thing had an actual heartbeat, put any emphasis that it might actually be closer to a “living” thing than I imagined—right now, this thing was a parasite eating away my insides, ruining my entire future and that’s how it needed to stay, not this “brain fuck” that Harry kept trying to feed me because he chose not to understand.

When the bell rang, I started gathering my stuff, taking my time as people emptied their trays, the noise whizzing around me already making me nervous, gearing up for whatever asshole wanted to poke a quick jab in passing.

But what I wasn’t expecting was Harry.

He stopped me dead in my tracks, almost dropping the books in my hands, and just as he was about to open his mouth, Josh came up and hooked an arm around his neck, dragging him with him. Harry breaks away, fumbling out of his grasp, eyes on me the whole time, my heart racing with anticipation, thinking, yes, this is it, he finally wants to talk, maybe he’s willing to come to an understanding.

Then his eyes drop to the ground, taking a few steps closer, and I watch as he bends down, snatching a gold foil-wrapped condom off the tiled floor, then looks up, a hateful smirk spreading across his face, and says, “You dropped this,” laughing as he tosses the condom onto the stack of books resting on my forearm. 

The sharp corner spikes me through the paper-thin material of my shirt, and I look down. The shiny package now resting against my chest— for a split-second, I stand there in shock, in total disbelief that Harry would sink this low—He had taken it too far; whoever he had been was a lie because that person, the one that stroked my cheek, and told me I was the only girl he wanted, would have never done this, but he was that same person, proving that he’s no different than any other guy.

Instead of giving him the reaction he must be looking for, I push past Harry and his stupid friend, my skin crawling with rage, knowing Josh’s laughter spurred Harry in motion. 

I headed straight through the cafeteria doors, bursting through them, and walked straight to my car, got in, and started the car.

I’m never coming back here, I will never step foot in that fucking hell hole again, and just as I’m about to turn out of the parking lot, I spot Harry’s car. I drove my foot into the break, jerking the car to a stop, and then I slammed the car into park. 

Adrenaline had already taken way, coursing through me as I reached over in the passenger seat and tore through my pile of books until I spotted the gold foil wrapper. With all my rage, I rip the car door open with such force that it springs back—and I kick it open, sliding out of the driver’s seat, my feet hitting the pavement with a thud as I bound over to his car and shove the condom under his windshield wiper, knowing it will be the first thing he sees when he goes to unlock his car. Then I ran back to my car and sped off like a bat out of hell, not wanting to get caught by campus patrol. 

I’m lost in my fury as I speed down the street. At some point, I must have zoned out because the only thing that snapped me out of my haze was the honk of a car horn stuck behind me at a green light. The blare of the noise rattled me back to life, and I stepped on the gas peddle with a heavy foot and shot through the light just as it turned yellow, the car behind me riding my as until they could get around me and when I look over they’re flipping me off.

It’s the nail in the coffin, and I burst into tears, nearly colliding with the car in front of me, my blurry vision hindering my site every time a tear spills over and runs down my face, and then I pull over into the nearest parking lot, scrolling through the numbers in my phone.

Once I reached Sienna’s number, I hit call, and my phone connects to Bluetooth as soon as her phone started to ring. The sound fills my car, rings several times, then goes to voicemail, and I call again. 

Each time I try, she forwards my call, and I’m calling over and over again. Calling until I’m so worked up that I stop altogether and bury my head into my arms, draped across the steering wheel, and cry until I forget where I am.

It’s not until the sound of an incoming car jolts me back to life that I look up, dazed, staring over at the screen spelling out Sienna’s name. When I answer, her voice booms through the car, her voice frantic:

“Lowe, is everything okay? What’s going on? I didn’t have my phone—shit—I’m sorry I missed your calls—”

The tears were back in full swing, and at first, I couldn’t say a thing like the muscles in my throat had fused, aching with every attempt, “Lowe, are you there?” She pushes.

And it takes a few hard swallows even to mutter the word, “Yeah,” and then she jumps right in. 

“Why are you crying? tell me what’s going on?” She pleads, worry helplessly filling her tone. 

“Sienna…” I sob out.

“Yes, Lowe, I’m here…tell me what’s wrong…”

“I just—” I try, and she waits for me to say something else, but I’m losing control. Every word being pushed down by a sob.

“Take a breath, Lowe, everything is going to be okay…” She coaxes.

I know her words are true, but right now, it all feels too heavy, like I can’t do this alone. I know that I can’t do this on my own because I am so scared and so lost in it all that I don’t know what to do anymore, “I just—please—” I beg.

“Tell me what you want—” Then her voice cracks, “Do you want me to come home? 

I cry out then, my sobs echoing over the speakers, “I need help—” I manage to finally say, “Please—” I plead.

“I’m packing a bag right now, okay…where are you?”

And I gasp in a shuddering breath, “In my car…” I tell her, peering around at my surroundings.

“Do you want me to call Mom and have her pick you up? Do you know where you are?”

“I know where I am…” I whisper, my tears sobering at the mention of “Mom.”

“Can you drive?” She asks

I suck in a hard breath through my nose, trying to clear a way for more air, then say, “I can drive.”

“Do you promise? Because you know, Mom will be there as soon as you ask, right?” 

And the thought breaks my heart even more because I should have just come to them in the first place, and I feel like a fucking fool, losing myself to another guy, “I promise—” I tell her, wiping at my eyes as silent tears fall, mourning the fact that I know everything is about to change—that I’ve changed—sad that a piece of me still wants to be that girl that pleases everyone else, that maybe would have given into Harry’s pleas if this would have happened a year ago, and that thought scares me too,

 Would I have been willing to give it all up for him?

“Marlowe?” Sienna nudges.

“Yeah—” I croak, defeated, feeling like I’ve been hung out to dry by a world I didn’t know existed, caught between a parallel of past and present, yet the future is right now, in this moment, knowing everything will change for better or worse, and now, I’ll have to learn to be okay with that and when my sister says:

“Everything is going to be okay. Whatever it is…It’s going to be okay. We’re going to get through this…” She promises.

And then I say, “Sienna, I’m pregnant—”

A/N: Well, guys, that was the last part! Thanks for coming along for the ride!!

Changes Masterlist<-

[ominous-faechild]

STORY INTRO:

FAERIE'S DAWN (interact with this post to join the taglist)

Following the Shattering of Reality, the world was plunged into what came to be known as the Faewildes: an ever-changing world suffused with magic and danger. Humanity crumbled under the weight of the new reality while fae—and the archfae above them—emerged to rule over the new world. Humans couldn't compete against the fae's sheer magical prowess, and soon built strongholds in territories with weak magical presence to stand against them. Now, so many generations later, humanity has finally learned of faekind's weakness: metal, which weakens fae and blocks their magic. A war is breaking out between humanity and fae, with gods each picking sides in the conflict. Between faeries Nova, Cloud, and Sky, and the human settlement Eve and Asa protect... who will win?

(Psst... to fans of the Existential of Magic—aka “Ailwyn, God of the Faewildes”—this story has them as a major player! You'll see a lot of them in here! Your guys' overwhelming love for them motivated me to write this story lmao)

THEME SONG:

He looked me in the eyes, and without a word He saw right through my soul And with an evil little grin, and a stench of sin He delivered me a message that I'll never forget Put your hands up, this is your last chance So boy, prepare to die Get ready to meet your maker Before I put one right between your eyes Get ready (get ready) For your resignation Get ready (get ready) For your salvation 'Cause when you wake up, you'll realize Who even cares if you're dead If you were never alive

MAIN CHARACTERS:

✦ Eve Primavera ✦ Asa Primavera ✦ Nova “Me” Fae ✦ Scamall “Cloud” Fae ✦ Spéir “Sky” Fae

ADDITIONAL INFO:

✦ obviously high fantasy ✦ mostly rustic & post-apocalyptic ✦ oh and TONS of action lmao ✦ hope you like intense magic fights! ✦ oh (x2) and mild aspects of horror ✦ (I'm @ominous-faechild, I HAVE to!) ✦ it's like a legal obligation lol

✦ includes: ✦ tons of lgbtqia+ rep ✦ gays. all the gays. ✦ nova's genderfluid (any/all) ✦ a closeted trans??? ✦ tbh one is nb af but that closet??? inescapable. ✦ neurodivergent rep ✦ eve & asa both audhd lol ✦ nova's audhd too lol ✦ sky and branch are autistic ✦ tbh it's safe to bet everyone is something ✦ expressions of cultures inspired by: ✦ middle ireland, ✦ germania, ✦ and criticisms of christianity

✦ trigger warnings: ✦ shows depictions of: ✦ sexism ✦ racism(?) (between fae/humans) ✦ xenophobia ✦ body dysphoria ✦ depression & anxiety ✦ religious zealotry ✦ religious trauma

THEMES:

✦ recognizing, breaking away from abusers, and learning to find yourself after departure

✦ accepting one's self ✦ especially for groups found "not traditionally acceptable" by society, which is reflected within eve and asa's home

✦ discrimination ✦ especially when artificial, or baseless

✦ “man, these religious zealots kinda suck” ✦ yeah it's a good mix of traumatic and cathartic here

MASTERLIST TABLE OF CONTENTS #FAERIE'S DAWN

CHARACTER INTROS:

✦ Eve Primavera (pending)

✦ Asa Primavera (pending)

✦ Nova “Me” Fae

✦ Scamall “Cloud” Fae (pending)

✦ Spéir “Sky” Fae

TAGS:

#high fantasy #action #action fantasy #diverse characters #fantasy #fantasy story #fantasy writing #fantasy world #magic world #worldbuilding #fantasy worldbuilding #comedy #humor

#diverse characters #poc in fantasy #poc characters #lgbtq+ characters #lgbtqia characters #lgbtq characters #lgbt fiction #neurodivergent characters #autistic characters #adhd character #autistic coded #autistic creator

#morally grey characters #morally gray #villain coded #feral oc #feral character

#faeries #faerie #the fae #fae #fae folk #faecore #fey oc

TAGLIST:

@honeybewrites @the-golden-comet @illarian-rambling @ashirisu @urnumber1star

@the-letterbox-archives @48lexr @aalinaaaaaa @thecomfywriter @an-indecisive-nerd

@seastarblue @rae-butter @teamarine777 @caffeinated-starsailor @oliolioxenfreewrites

@corinneglass @thebookishkiwi @storyteller-kara @themongosianhorse @theburningeyeofdawn

@notyourlocalworm @write-with-will @mildlybizarrecorvid @forgottenvalor @huewrite

@vesanal @differentnighttale @plip-plap-plop @olliedoesthings @pupculture

@princessuncertain @mythicalmagical-monkeyman @i-do-anything-but-write @a-zendrial

@real-fragments @lunauphternal @sullymarlowe @aalinaaaaaa @yourpenpaldee

@dangerousbunnyking @milday-dewinter @hoerikwaggo @thestorywitch @simonnebethel

@keeping-writing-frosty @cedence @sodalysm @amor-vivere @lovelyfirebouquet

@shabbyshoebox @creative-creatrues-hub @black-cubes @brightyellowsprite @cosmic-demonartist

@summermaes (ask and ye shall be added)

(tho actually I'mma add everybody who interacts with this post? or put them on my 'just tell me rq if you don't want to be included' list lol)

divider by @thyming

[angelus-pulchrae]

Rookie Mistake

The S.W.A.T academy was some of the most grueling years you had ever been put through, but you had finally made it. Looking up at the monitors in front of you and seeing your name alongside some of the best officers in the city, you were proud of the blood, sweat, and tears you had given to be here.

With that said, if someone would have told you that you would be facing some of the worst situations LA had to offer, while also falling in love with a member of your team, even knowing how wrong it was--you might have questioned joining S.W.A.T in the first place.

But then again, when did that ever stop you?

~~~~

His chocolate eyes were the most beautiful sight you had ever seen and you knew if you stared long enough you would begin to melt. He smiled slightly, his small dimples showing, and you had to turn away before he noticed the blush creeping up your neck.

"Welcome to LAPD S.W.A.T. Every single one of you deserves to be here after all the hard work you have done. Congratulations are in order," Commander Hicks says, his voice booming through the lobby of HQ.

You smile proudly and look around to see the five other newest members of S.W.A.T doing the same. You had been the only other woman to make it this far, and by looking at Chris Alonso across the hall and the small smile on her lips that matched your own, you stood with even more pride as a round of applause sounded.

You snook one last peek out of the corner of your eye at the Sargent and were surprised to find his gaze already on you. Heat settled low in your stomach and you hated the butterflies that erupted at just the sight of his sharp features. He had a look you couldn't quite place etched across face, and it sent shivers down your spine.

Oh, how you were so entirely and royally fucked.

MASTERLIST:

Chapter 1 - From the Start

Chapter 2 - Different Shoes

Chapter 3 - Understanding

18+ Mature, Smut, Violence, Foul Language

This is my first time posting the stuff I have written and there are other stories I am working on, but if you guys have any suggestions or want me to write anything specific, just let me know!! I hope you guys will enjoy this as much as I do :)

- angelus_pulchrae 💕

[inky-writing]

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Inky-writing masterlist Mirage masterlist

Warnings: still none haha

Word count: 1,842

Chapter 3: Making Friends

September 2004

By the time friday rolled around, Y/N had begun to find a routine at Forks High School. The halls no longer felt like a labyrinth, and the faces were starting to become more familiar. Still, it was lonely navigating a new place without anyone to call a friend.

That same morning, her homeroom teacher introduced her to Jessica, even if she already knew who she was (but he didn’t know that), to give her an official tour of the school. Y/N had already learned her way around, but she accepted anyway, grateful for the chance to connect more with her classmate.

Jessica was chatty, as usual, pointing out all the little quirks of the school as they walked through the halls. “That’s Mrs. Stone’s classroom. She’s nice, but hze quizzes are impossible. Oh, and over there is the gym. We usually have PE outside unless it’s raining, which, you know, is most of the time”.

Y/N chuckled, finding herself relaxing in Jessica’s company. “Thanks for showing me around. It’s nice to have someone to talk to”.

“Of course!” Jessica grinned. “You’re doing great, though. You’ve already survived the cafeteria last week”.

Y/N laughed, and for the first time since arriving in Forks, she felt genuine happiness.

During second period, Y/N saw on her planning she had Litterature. She adjusted her shoulder bag over her leather Jacket before entering the classroom. The teacher wasn’t here yet, so she directed herself toward the back, where she found a seat next to a muscular brown haired boy. He looked like he could be part of the football team, and seemed odly familiar. Y/N then remembered where she first saw him: it was Emmett Cullen, she recalled from what Jessica told him. He shared those same golden orbs as the rest of the Cullen family, as well as their ethereal and inhuman beauty. 

The boy smiled at her, “Hello there, I’m Emmett”. Y/N blinked out of surprise before answering, “I’m Y/N”. He nodded at her as the teacher entered the room and telling the class to quiet.

At lunch, Jessica introduced her to Eric and Tyler, and she rapidly understood that gossip was the principal subject of conversation within the group. It didn’t bother her though, it was better to befriend them than to be by herself. The four of them sat together, chatting about classes and teachers. 

Midway through their meal, a boy, who she learned to be Mike Newton, appeared at their table, his boyish grin firmly in place. “Hey, Y/N, right?”

She nodded, unsure where this was going. “Yeah”.

“Cool. I’m Mike” he said, pulling up a chair without waiting for an invitation. “I saw you in chemistry the other day. How’s it going?”

“It’s… going just fine”, Y/N replied, exchanging a glance with Angela, who hid a small smile behind her hand.

Mike seemed undeterred by her answer. “If you ever need help with anything, just let me know. I’ve been here forever, so I know the ropes”.

“Thanks” she said, though she couldn’t help but feel a bit cornered by his actions.

Jessica leaned closer, her voice low. “Mike’s nice, but he can be a little… intense when he likes someone”.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed. She wasn’t sure how to feel about Mike’s sudden interest in her, but it was nice to know someone was paying attention.

As the day went on, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. It wasn’t the casual curiosity she’d felt from her classmates on the first day: this was sharper, more focused. Every time she turned around, she caught Alice Cullen’s gaze fixed on her.

During spanish, Y/N dared to make direct eyecontact with Alice. The petite brunette girl smiled, but it wasn’t the kind of smile that set her at ease. It was knowing, as if Alice was privy to a secret Y/N hadn’t been let in on.

By the time the final bell rang, Y/N's nerves were a mess. As she packed up her things, Jessica caught up with her. “Hey, do you want to come over this weekend? Angela and I were thinking of watching some movies while doing our nails and you know, sleepover”.

Y/N hesitated, surprised by the offer. “Really? That sounds great, I would love to”.

Jessica grinned. “Awesome. Give me your number, I’ll text you the details”.

The walk home felt longer than usual, the grey sky pressing down on her. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Alice. There was no denying the girl’s strangeness, her habit of staring at her, the enigmatic smiles, the way she always seemed to be one step ahead of everyone else.

When Y/N reached her house, she found her uncle Charlie in the living room, watching a baseball game. He looked up as she entered. “How was school?”.

“Not bad” she said, dropping her bag by the door. “I think I made some friends”.

Charlie nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That’s good”.

Y/N returned the smile, but the words felt distant. Whatever was going on with Alice Cullen and her family was anything but normal.

That night, as she lay in bed, Y/N’s thoughts were a storm of confusion. Alice’s behavior wasn’t just odd; it was as if she knew her, or smething about her; as if she was waiting for something to happen. And then there was Carlisle, whose calming presence lingered in her mind.

Y/N closed her eyes, determined to push the thoughts away. Tomorrow was another day, and she wasn’t going to let the mysteries of Forks consume her. But deep down, she knew she was already entangled in something far bigger than she could imagine.

October 2004 - Carlisle pov

It had been a month since Y/N began her new life in Forks, and Carlisle Cullen observed her with a growing sense of unease. As both a doctor and psychologist, his life revolved around maintaining a professional distance from those his patients, but Y/N made that distance increasingly difficult to maintain.

He sat in his office at the clinic, reviewing his notes from their latest session. Y/N had been referred to him shortly after her arrival, a recommendation from Chief Swan after her tragic loss. In their bi-weekly meetings, they discussed her parents’ death, her grief, and her attempts to adjust to life in Forks. She was reserved but thoughtful.

“It’s hard to think about the future” she had admitted during their last session. “I feel like I’m stuck in this in-between place, not really living but not ready to move on, either”.

Carlisle had offered her the reassurance he always gave his patients: that grief was a process, and it was okay to take things one step at a time. Yet, even as he spoke, he found himself wanting to do more for her. He chalked it up to her vulnerability, to the way she reminded him of the countless lives he’d seen shattered over the centuries. But was that all it was?

On a rainy Thursday evening, Carlisle found himself at the diner in town, grabbing his team some coffee for the nightshift. He rarely did it, but lately, the solitude of his home felt oppressive. The diner was a warm haven, music was flowing, and it filled with the hum of conversation and the clatter of dishes.

(https://open.spotify.com/intl-fr/track/0cZDC7uxNK8lqQ3GgyvCnD?si=68648eb8b99a433a)

It was there that he saw her.

Y/N sat at a booth near the window, surrounded by her friends. She was wearing a red dress underneath her everpresent oversized leather jacket, with a multitude of silver necklaces. Her delicate fingers where adorned with silver rings, one representing a snake, another with a amethyst, and the others just plain silver. Jessica and Angela were there, too, along with Mike Newton, who seemed particularly attentive to anything Y/N had to say, desperatly gapping for her attention. Carlisle watched as she laughed at something Mike said, her expression lighter than he’d ever seen before. It suited her, he thought, that smile. It made her seem more like the young woman she was supposed to be, rather than the grief-stricken girl he’d come to know.

But then, Carlisle’s chest tightened. The sight of her with Mike stirred something unnameable within him, an ache that bordered on jealousy. He forced himself to look away, gripping his coffee cup as though it might ground him.

This wasn’t right. He was her therapist, her doctor. She was only 17 with a long life ahead of her, waiting to be lived. And beyond that, he had Esme.

Esme.

The name brought a familiar pang of guilt. She was his mate. The loving and caring mother figure of the Cullens clan. Yet, in recent months, something about their connection felt… forced. Esme had grown distant, her smiles never quite reaching her eyes. He had attributed it to the passing of time, to the natural flow of relationships. But now, as he wrestled with his unexpected and oh so wrong feelings for Y/N, Carlisle couldn’t help but question everything he’d accepted as truth.

From her booth, Y/N glanced toward the counter and noticed Dr. Cullen sitting alone, waiting for the coffees. She hesitated before turning back to her friends, but something about his presence lingered in her mind. It was strange seeing him outside the clinical setting. Here, he seemed almost… human.

“You okay?” Mike asked, leaning closer. His tone was light, but his eyes betrayed his concern.

Y/N forced a smile. “Yeah, just tired”.

Mike’s brow furrowed. “If you need to talk or anything, you know I’m here, right?”.

“I know. Thanks, Mike” she said, appreciating his kindness even as she struggled to fully reciprocate his feelings. He was sweet, and being with him was easy. But something held her back, a quiet voice in her mind whispering that this wasn’t what she truly wanted.

Carlisle’s gaze drifted back to Y/N despite himself. He noted the way she interacted with her friends, the subtle hesitations in her movements. She was still grieving, that much was clear, but she was trying. He admired her resilience, even as he questioned why he felt such a deep connection to her struggle.

And then there was Alice.

Her recent behavior had been… odd, even for her. She’d been distracted, her usual clarity clouded by something. Carlisle hadn’t pressed her for details, respecting her boundaries, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something larger was at play. Alice’s visions had always been a cornerstone of their family’s stability, and to see them falter was unsettling.

As he paid for the coffees and left the diner, Carlisle resolved to focus on what he could control. Y/N was his patient, and his priority was her well-being. Whatever he was feeling, whether it was misplaced sympathy or something deeper, he would set it aside. For her sake, and for his own.

Chapter 4 >>>

[archivequinn]

MADNESS (Eddie Munson x American Horror Story: Asylum)

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four

Summary: Three years after his disappearance, Eddie Munson is arrested for the murders of Chrissy Cunningham, Fred Benson, Patrick McKinney and others, but the truth is very different. Unable to convince anyone that Vecna exists and that he is innocent, he is locked up in an asylum. But the only way out is to prove to his psychiatrist that he is not insane. If he fails to convince the psychiatrist, he will be executed as a murderer. He must hurry to do so, because Vecna has returned to finish the bloody unfinished business and take revenge.

As Eddie fights for his life, how far can his psyhiatrist go to save him when she finds out he is innocent? Perhaps the only reason his psychiatrist wants to save him is not because of Eddie's innocence, but because they have developed feelings for each other over time. In the midst of all this confusion, a series of secret experiments on patients in the mental hospital and a series of dark secrets make everything more difficult.

Warnings: Blood and Injury, Mentions of execution, Execution, Death, Mental Health Issues, Asylum, Mental Hospital, Horror, Psychological Horror, Survival Horror, Thriller, Claustrophobia, Prison, Doctor/Patient, Serial Killers, Hospitals, Pain, Depression, Violence, Blood and Violence, Suicidal Thoughts, death of a family member, Nudity, Smut, Sex, Slow Burn, Experiments, Explicit Sexual Content, TraumaPost-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Disorders, Smoking.

Before you read:)

This fan fiction is inspired by American Horror Story: Asylum. It contains a lot of horror and thriller content. Since the story takes place in a mental hospital, there may be various triggers. Please check the tags first as there is a lot of violence, sexuality and depression contents. This story is for adults, so close the page if you are a minor.

Please let me know if there are any tags I forgot to add. ao3 link

John and Violet were sitting across from each other in the cafeteria. Violet stirred her tasteless food with a spoon, her eyes darting to the clock on the wall. She was waiting for the evening shift to begin; it was twenty minutes to five. She was waiting for Brendon's shift to start so she could find out how and where Eddie was.

John noticed the worry on Violet’s face and spoke up. "So, this Max Mayfield you’re talking about, she’s the one who reported Eddie, right?"

Violet sighed. "She did and didn’t. They suspect Vecna used her as a puppet," she said.

Amid the chaos of the last few days, Violet had told John everything: the information in Eddie’s file, what Steve and the others had said… It wasn’t easy to process, but John was experienced because he used to be a cop and quickly grasped the situation.

"Which means the only people who can get you out of here are Steve and the others," John said. "Do they even know Max is here?"

Violet shrugged. "I don’t know," she said thoughtfully. "But why would they bring her to the same mental hospital as the guy who ‘almost killed’ her and ‘put her in a coma’?" She made air quotes, sarcastically emphasizing the points Eddie was accused of.

John smirked slightly. "We need to find a way to reach that Steve guy," he said.

Violet nodded in agreement. "How did Eddie reach him? Could we do it the same way?"

John shook his head negatively. "We snuck into the manager’s office and made a call. It was pure luck. And we got caught that time too—you saw what they did to Eddie. We can’t take that risk again," he said.

"Can’t Brendon make a call?" Violet asked.

John took a deep breath and shrugged. "Since we escaped, they’ve tightened security. They even look at the staff’s calls. So, that’s not really an option," he said.

Just then, the cafeteria door opened, and Brendon entered, carrying a metal tray with bandages, scissors, and other medical supplies. Violet stood up excitedly. Brendon approached and began to gently remove the bandage from her head.

"Eddie’s in a cell," Brendon said in a low voice. "He’s okay but very worried about you."

Hearing this, Violet’s anxiety eased a little, but she still wanted to see Eddie. "Can I see him? Will you take me to him?" she asked.

Brendon shook his head. "You’re no longer a doctor here, Violet. To get in there, you’d have to get yourself into trouble or something. And even then, I doubt they’d let you two be in the same cell," he said.

John raised both hands in mock surrender, letting out a small laugh. "Looks like it’s up to me again," he said in a joking tone.

Violet was about to give him a puzzled look when she noticed Dr Oliver and Wilson coming through the door. Oliver was feverishly explaining something to the manager. Violet turned her attention to them to listen to their conversation.

Oliver's voice was serious. “Mr. Wilson, the condition of these patients is truly appalling. They need care. How do you expect them to get better when they live in zero hygiene and cannot feel comfortable?”

Wilson responded with a nonchalant attitude “I already have too few staff and too many patients. As if that wasn't enough, you came all the way from Michigan. Be grateful if you can find a seat for yourself. Let me run my hospital and you go about your business.’’

Violet couldn’t help but smile inwardly at the exchange. Oliver’s naive determination felt familiar to her. It was like experiencing déjà vu. However, she knew it wouldn’t take long for him to learn how terrible this place truly was.

John winked at her and leaned slightly closer, whispering, "Wilson’s here. It’s time."

John’s angry outburst had caught the attention of the other patients in the cafeteria. Pointing his index finger at Violet in a threatening manner, his voice grew louder.

"Are you calling me an arsonist?!" he shouted. The wave of anger in John’s voice echoed in the room as Brendon glanced at Violet and signaled her to get up. Violet hesitated for only a moment before rising to her feet. It didn’t take her long to get into character and step toward John.

"Aren’t you? We’re back here because of you, you idiot! If you had driven properly, we’d be free now!" Violet retorted, unable to hold back her anger. "Where’d you get your license? A butcher shop? Oh wait, probably from a stove maker, since you’re so good with fire." She mimicked a lighter with her hands, mocking him.

John, furious at Violet’s sarcastic remarks, stormed toward her, closing the gap between them. Now, they were standing almost nose to nose. "At least I’m not stuck as a patient in the hospital I came to as a doctor, you lunatic!" he yelled, then suddenly leaned closer to her face and said in a low tone, "Hit me." He was trying to turn the situation to his advantage while everyone was watching.

Violet hesitated, staring at him as if she hadn’t fully understood his words. She noticed Wilson and Dr. Oliver watching the commotion from the other side of the cafeteria. Responding to John’s demand, she clenched her fist and delivered a sharp punch. At that moment, Brendon stepped in to separate them, but John wasn’t idle either. He threw kicks at Violet, intentionally missing. Violet struck a bit harder, ensuring it looked realistic.

Dr Oliver panicked and rushed over. "Please calm down; we can resolve this through conversation," he pleaded, trying to ease the tension. 

But Wilson had run out of patience. Pointing at Violet and John, he barked at Brendon, "Take them to the cells in the basement so they can cool off."

Violet barely restrained herself from smiling. Internally, she was quite pleased for having roughed up John a bit. Brendon nodded like a soldier receiving orders and grabbed both of them by the collars, escorting them out of the cafeteria. Violet could hear Oliver protesting behind Wilson, complaining about the ’’this method of punishment is barbaric and contrary to human rights’’ but she only rolled her eyes.

They began walking toward an unknown part of the hospital. The stairs seemed endless; Violet couldn’t help but think, "We’re descending all the way to hell." At last, at the bottom of the stairs, Brendon released their collars. Violet and John walked ahead now, with Brendon quietly accompanying them.

John turned to Violet with a faint smirk. "For someone so small, you sure hit hard," he said.

Violet laughed. "And for someone with all those muscles, you scream like a little girl," she shot back. John rolled his eyes but allowed a small smile to escape.

"My whole body hurts from the crash," John added. "I’ll get my rematch when I’m in better shape."

Brendon chuckled at their exchange. "You were like this when we were kids too. Always had an excuse when you lost," he said.

Violet looked at Brendon in surprise. "When you were kids? How long have you been police partners anyway?" she asked. John gave her the same surprised look.

"Partners?" he said, pursing his lips. "We’re brothers."

Violet took a step back in astonishment, studying them both carefully. "But I saw... both of you in the news article. In police uniforms," she said.

Brendon smiled. "Can’t brothers do the same job?" he replied. Violet suddenly felt like everything clicked into place. Brendon’s willingness to take such great risks made sense now; he wasn’t just here for a friend—he was here to save his brother.

Brendon stopped in front of a heavy iron door. "We’re here," he announced. Violet now focused on the scene before her. The corridor was lined with dark, narrow cells, each resembling a prison block. Behind the bars, there was only a single, uncomfortable-looking bed in each cell. The stench was so overpowering that Violet almost longed for the smell of the cafeteria upstairs.

From one of the cells, there was a stir. Violet spotted a familiar face and rushed to the bars. It was Eddie. Violet reached her hands through the bars, and Eddie’s hands clasped around hers. He had a few scratches on his face but seemed to have fared relatively well after the crash.

Brendon opened a cell for Violet and guided her inside. John was placed in the cell opposite hers. "You have a therapy session in an hour," Brendon said, pointing at Violet.

"Who’s my doctor?" she asked with a frown.

"Oliver Owsen," Brendon replied.

Violet thought for a moment and added, "Tell him to come and get me from here. I want him to see what this place is like."

Brendon nodded. As he moved to leave, Violet called out once more, "Brendon, is there a chance I could change my cellmate?"

"I’ll see what I can do," Brendon said, disappearing quickly down the corridor.

The echo of Brendon's retreating footsteps faded into the cold corridor walls. When Violet turned around, she noticed the familiar goofy grin on Eddie's face. Their hands met again through the bars, Eddie's warm palms grounding Violet's scattered emotions.

Eddie asked curiously, "How did you end up here?"

The answer came from John in the next cell. Waving his finger with a mildly warning tone, he said, "Careful with this girl, man. If you hurt her, she might kick you so hard you'll never have kids."

Eddie laughed at the comment, his grin widening. Reaching through the bars, he gently stroked Violet's hair, then pulled her closer, inhaling the scent of her hair. His lips still nestled there, he spoke teasingly, "What’s this about a cellmate situation? What did I miss now? This damned hospital can’t go a day without drama."

Violet responded with a laugh, collapsing onto the so-called "bed," an uncomfortable excuse for furniture. Eddie, meanwhile, sat on the floor of his cell, but his hand never left Violet's through the bars.

"They’ve evacuated the Michigan hospital here," Violet explained, detailing the situation. "New patients and staff have arrived. Temporarily, at least."

Eddie winked and muttered with a mischievous grin, "Here’s hoping I get a cute chick as a cellmate."

Violet swatted his hand playfully, then turned curiously to John. "We saw Eddie’s name there. We didn’t even check the one next to it. Got so caught up in my mess, we forgot."

John frowned slightly, puzzled. "Fred something. I don’t remember the last name."

Eddie nudged Violet's hand. "Your mess? What’s happened to you?"

This was the hardest part for Violet. Eddie was unaware of what Steve and the others had told her. He didn’t know that Max had woken up and reported him to the police. Violet hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath and began to speak.

"Eddie, listen carefully to what I’m about to say. You know how I told you I knew you were innocent..." Violet’s voice wavered slightly. Eddie’s brown eyes looked at her with patience and curiosity. Finally, she admitted, "Max woke up."

Eddie’s eyes lit up with excitement. "Are you serious? That’s amazing news!"

Violet glanced at John for help, but he was nervously chewing his nails. Sighing, she turned back to Eddie.

The expression on his face shifted, sensing something was wrong. Violet closed her eyes and summoned her courage to reveal the truth she had been hiding.

"...And now I don’t know why she’s here, but she’s going to be staying in my room."

Those words made Eddie grip her hand tighter. His voice trembled, and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Violet... you can’t stay with her... I won’t let you..."

Violet averted her gaze from Eddie's misty eyes. But John’s muffled voice startled her. Pressing his hands and head against the bars, John muttered, "What do we even have left at this point?"

A gloomy silence filled around. Violet responded quietly, "We stole the file that proved what Dr. Arthur did, but they got it back. They’ve probably destroyed it by now."

Eddie let out a heavy sigh, adding, "The only person who could prove my innocence woke up, and now she’s Vecna’s puppet. I’ve got a one-way ticket to the electric chair."

John barked out a harsh laugh. "And anyone who could help us escape thinks we’re dead. We can’t make calls, and we can’t ask Brendon to because we’re being listened to."

In the midst of this dark atmosphere, an idea sparked in Violet’s mind. A smile crept across her lips. "If we can’t talk... we’ll write."

Eddie and John looked at each other, then at Violet. But just as the idea began to take shape, the sound of approaching footsteps made Violet motion for them to be silent. The newcomers were Brendon and Oliver. The sight of the prison-like cells seemed to horrify Oliver, who looked visibly shaken.

Violet thought mockingly, You think it’s bad? You should see WARD C, doctor.

Oliver introduced himself nervously, his voice trembling. ''Violet George, I’m your doctor, Oliver Owsen."

Oliver’s extended hand reached through the bars to shake Violet’s. However, his eyes were carefully examining Eddie from head to toe. Eddie, silent behind the bars, observed Oliver while Violet didn’t let go of Eddie’s hand.

Oliver, “I’m here to get you out of here.”

Violet, “I’ll only leave if my friends come with me.”

Oliver glanced first at Eddie, then at John. His expression revealed that he understood how difficult Violet’s demand was.

Oliver “I’m afraid your friends are not my patients. It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to do that.”

Violet shrugged, responding with a nonchalant tone, “Then I’m not going.”

A hint of embarrassment spread across Oliver’s face. He looked like someone trying to do his job but caught in the middle of a chaotic situation. Violet didn’t doubt Oliver’s sincerity; however, she knew he wouldn’t be able to see the bigger picture of what was happening within this system. She could explain everything to him right now, but the risk was too great. She decided to start her plan from a simpler angle.

Violet nodded toward Eddie. “You see that man standing there, right?”

Oliver nodded affirmatively.

Violet, “You’ve heard about the murders in Hawkins, haven’t you? Well, he’s the one responsible for them.”

A noticeable fear flickered in Oliver’s eyes. Eddie, seated on his bed with his head in his hands, seemed oblivious to what Violet was saying.

Violet “Now, do you know who my roommate is?” whispered.

This time, Oliver shook his head no.

“It’s Max Mayfield, the girl he almost killed. Now think about it: Does this hospital really care about its rules? I think you need to transfer this patient immediately. Otherwise, Eddie Munson might finish what he started and kill Max. And wouldn’t that also put my life in danger? After all, I’m sharing a room with Max. And you’re my doctor. You’re responsible for me.”

The sound of Oliver swallowing filled the corridor. Behind them, John silently made a gesture of awe, as if to say, Wow. He hadn’t expected Violet to come up with such a plan.

Eddie, his face expressionless, stepped toward the bars. Even though Oliver was outside, he instinctively took a step back. Eddie began speaking in a mocking tone, “If I see that redhead again, tell her I’ll rip her head off this time. I’ve got one more sacrifice to offer the Devil.”

Oliver swallowed again. Then, turning to Brendon, he motioned with his head to unlock the doors. As Brendon unlocked Violet’s cell, he gave her a look of admiration mixed with astonishment.

Violet struggled to hold back her laughter. Madness had its charm sometimes. Whatever you did, no one questioned you. After all, you were insane.

When they emerged from the basement cells and reached the upper floors, Violet took a deep breath. Eddie approached her quietly from behind and whispered in her ear, “I’ll be waiting for you in the common room.”

Violet left the common room, smiling, to follow Oliver. She didn’t know much about this new doctor, but that didn’t matter—for now, all she needed was the pen she had to get from Oliver. When they entered his office, she slumped into a chair, crossing her arms over her stomach and one leg over the other. She planned to leave after answering the routine questions.

Oliver sat at his desk, reviewing a file. His brows were furrowed, as if he were puzzled. After glancing at Violet a few times, he finally asked, “Do you know what day it is today, Mrs George?”

“You can call me Violet,” she replied with a faint smile. “It’s Wednesday.”

Oliver nodded, smiling. “Alright, Violet. Do you know why you’re here?”

Violet tried not to roll her eyes at the routine question. She was here because the crimes pinned on Eddie and the creature Vecna chasing her had led to this point. Of course, she couldn’t explain everything, but she could have a bit of fun.

“The creature Vecna, who made sure all the crimes were pinned on Eddie, started chasing me. So, I was escaping from the hospital to get away from it. Oh, and at the same time, I was going to expose the aliens from the experiments that asshole Dr Arthur conducted on people to the entire world.”

The look of shock on Oliver’s face was almost comical. He glanced back at the file and scribbled something with his pen.

“Given your scores and professional background, I find it very surprising you’re saying such things,” he said in a serious tone. “I thought you might be here because of a misunderstanding. Are you serious?”

Violet answered with a laugh. “Of course I’m not serious.” The relief on Oliver’s face was fleeting.

Violet stifled her laughter as she continued. “I mean, I admit I exaggerated with the aliens. Zombies would’ve been more accurate.”

Oliver froze for a moment before slowly tucking his pen into the outer breast pocket of his doctor’s coat. “I think I’ve tired you enough for today... I have other patients to see,” he said, closing the file. His voice carried a hint of disappointment; his inexperience was obvious.

Violet stood up and was about to leave when a nurse entered the room. “Mr. Owsen, your next patient, Fred Kirk, is waiting at the door.”

Fred Kirk... That name sounded familiar to her. Violet’s mind worked quickly. She took a few steps closer to Oliver and suddenly asked, “Can I give you a hug? Thank you for listening to me.”

Oliver stared at her, unsure of what to say, and Violet hugged him tightly, swiftly snatching the pen with a quick movement of her hand. Then she left the room.

She returned to the common room at a brisk pace. John and Eddie were chatting on the couches. Violet quickly jumped between them. Eddie turned to her and asked curiously.

“Hey, what was the plan? How are we going to reach Steve?”

“If we can’t call him, we’ll write. We’ll send him a letter. Brendon can deliver it, right?” Violet said, determination shining in her eyes.

John nodded in agreement. “But how are we supposed to write? In case you haven’t noticed, even the forks and knives are plastic. You can’t find anything that could be used as a weapon. Not even a pen.”

Violet pulled the pen from her pocket and smiled triumphantly. Eddie looked at her in awe and asked, “Where did you find that?”

Shrugging, Violet replied with a sly expression, “I guess I had to suck up to my doctor a little.”

John raised the question, “What about paper?” 

Eddie laughed and said, “We can write on toilet paper.” Just then, John pulled out a napkin from his pocket and held it out. Violet and Eddie stared at him blankly.

“What? My nose runs. I carry tissues,” John said defensively.

Eddie squinted at him mischievously. “I hope it’s just for your nose,” he said.

Violet rolled her eyes. “Come on, guys, we need to figure out what to write.”

John suggested the simplest message, as if he’d come up with something groundbreaking, “We’re not dead, we’re alive, get us out of here.”

Eddie shook his head, lightly hitting John on the head. “Why don’t we include Arthur’s entire plan too, while we’re at it? Are you crazy? How did you ever work as a cop? What if they read the letter? If they catch us, it’ll be at least three hundred volts for us this time.”

Eddie took the pen and napkin and started writing something. Then he handed it over with a grin. Violet read it aloud curiously, “The Shire is burning, Mordor is burning. But a hobbit never gives up.”

John turned to Eddie with a serious expression. “Mine made more sense. What is this supposed to mean?”

Eddie just rolled his eyes. “You just give it to Brendon, and he’ll send it to Dustin Henderson. That kid’s a genius. He’ll know it’s from me.”

As John tucked the letter into his pocket, Violet’s attention shifted to the new patients in the common room. She hadn’t seen Max yet. Doctor Oliver was now speaking with his new patient. Violet whispered, “Why does the name Fred Kirk sound so familiar?”

John had no hesitation explaining. “Fred Kirk? You mean the Brooklyn Axeman?”

Violet turned to him in fear. “What?”

John shrugged. “It was one of the cases I worked on before they locked me up here. The guy’s a serial killer. He murders his victims with an ax. Last I heard, he was caught and institutionalized. Why do you ask? You probably saw it on the news. It was a big deal.”

Violet pointed to the blond man and asked, nearly trembling, “Please tell me that’s not him.”

John and Eddie both looked in the direction she indicated. John tilted his head and calmly said, “Alright... I won’t tell you.” 

Eddie sighed and added, “Just what we needed, a serial killer. Fantastic.”

Violet took a deep breath and voiced an even darker realization, “Eddie, I’m not sure but I think he’s going to be your cellmate.”

Violet entered the common room in the morning, and Eddie noticed her immediately. He quickly walked over to her and hugged her tightly. “Are you okay?” he asked, looking into her eyes with concern. Violet nodded in affirmation, then answered in a weary voice, “Are you okay?”

Eddie shrugged. “My roommate broke someone’s nose on the first day, so he’ll be stuck in a cell for a few days. So yeah, I was alone yesterday. What about you? Did you see Max?”

Violet shook her head. “No, I was alone too,” she said.

When Violet noticed John smoking a cigarette on the couch behind Eddie, she frowned. “Where did he even get that cigarette?” she asked. Eddie rolled his eyes and gave her a look that said, Don’t even ask.

“Brendon came by before you arrived,” Eddie said, changing the subject. “He sent the letter yesterday by the fastest mail service. It probably reached them last night.”

“What letter?” a voice asked suddenly, making them both turn in the same direction at the same time.

Hearing a shaky, hurt voice, they both froze for a moment. A red-haired girl with tear-filled eyes and trembling hands was looking at them, embarrassed but scared. Violet guessed she couldn’t be more than 18 or 19 years old. The shock on Eddie’s face was unmistakable. “Max?” Eddie said, his voice filled with uncertainty. Max immediately ran toward him, throwing her arms around him and sobbing uncontrollably.

Eddie stood still for a few seconds, then finally hugged her back. Violet watched them in astonishment. Eddie pulled away slightly, holding Max by her shoulders, and bent down so that their faces were level. “Is it really you?” he asked. Max nodded while wiping her tears.

“When I woke up here, I opened my eyes. I don’t know what’s going on. What are you doing here? What am I doing here? Are we... dead?” Max asked, her voice trembling. Eddie glanced at Violet; they were both thinking the same thing. Could Vecna have used Max to lure them here and then disappeared? Or was this some sort of trap? They had to tread carefully until they figured it out.

Max turned to Eddie and asked, “Why are they still keeping you here? Why am I here? If I’ve woken up, can’t we prove you’re innocent now?”

Violet shrugged but said nothing. If Max found out she had played a role in Eddie being locked up here, she might just have a heart attack on the spot, Violet thought to herself.

Deep down, Violet was sure Max was genuinely herself. Looking at her, she didn’t sense the dark, ominous presence she had felt when confronting Vecna. That intense fear she had once experienced wasn’t there when she looked into Max’s eyes now.

Max wasn’t done with her questions. “And what’s this letter about?”

Before Violet could respond, John cut in, gesturing toward Eddie and Violet with his cigarette.

“These two idiots—everyone thinks they’re dead. But as you can see, they’re right here, alive and kicking. See?” John said, nudging Eddie with his foot. Eddie lightly smacked John’s leg in return, grumbling irritably.

Max continued anxiously, “Did you send it to guys? I hope they don’t make the mistake of calling here. If they do, the people here will know you’ve been communicating with them.”

Eddie smiled faintly and shrugged. “I don’t think they’d do something that dumb. I mean, these guys saved the world. More than once.”

Just then, a nurse approached Violet. “Dr. Oliver Owsen is expecting you,” he said in a formal tone.

Violet sighed, standing up, and began walking toward the doctor seated at a nearby table. “Another day of pretending to be crazy,” she thought to herself. This charade, in a way, was starting to amuse her.

She had even managed to scare the doctor about Eddie. She now realized how much fun Eddie had been having with her in their therapy sessions before Eddie's innocence was exposed.The man was afraid of everything.

Here, people could do anything—spit on the floor, behave disgustingly, or even walk around naked—and no one cared. Because you were ‘crazy,’ and that made everything acceptable. Violet pulled a chair and sat across from the doctor, her eyes still on Eddie in the background.

Oliver coughed lightly to draw attention. Violet turned her gaze away from Eddie to him, then sank back into her chair, folding her arms across her chest. The seriousness on his face made it clear that this wasn’t going to be an ordinary conversation.

“Violet, I need to ask you something,” Oliver said in a low but determined voice.

Violet tilted her head back and took a deep breath. “Are you going to ask me what day it is today?” she asked in a slightly sarcastic tone.

“No,” Oliver replied, ignoring her reaction. “I want to ask you something about a patient.”

This unexpected response piqued Violet’s interest. She raised her head curiously and looked at Oliver’s face attentively. “Have you ever heard of a patient named Ginny Jones here? Or seen her?” he asked.

After a brief pause, Violet shook her head to indicate no. “Why are you asking?” she replied, somewhat cautiously.

“There’s a reason I came here. I’m not here by coincidence. I’m looking for someone,” Oliver said, his voice carrying a stronger emphasis.

Violet sighed, lifting her hands in a gesture of indifference, and yawned. “Everyone’s looking for someone, buddy. That’s life,” she replied, with little interest.

“Violet, I’m asking you to be yourself for a few seconds,” Oliver said impatiently. “It’s obvious that this isn’t you. I can see how intelligent you are. I’ll pretend to believe your crazy stories again, I promise. But right now, I need your help. I went to the corridor of Ward C that you mentioned yesterday. All the rooms had been cleared out. Someone had taken everything there in a hurry.”

At these words, Violet raised her eyebrows and began listening to Oliver more attentively. She was now certain that he was really here looking for someone. The concern in his voice made it clear how important that person was to him.

“I wish I could help you,” Violet said, with a slight hint of regret, “but I’ve never even heard of the person you’re talking about while working here.”

Oliver fell silent for a moment, rubbing his forehead with his hand. “Tell me about this Dr. Arthur,” he said finally. “And his experiments.”

Violet fell into deep thought at this point. She knew one of the biggest shortcomings here was belief. No one would believe you if you said you saw a ghost, had a murderer chasing you, or claimed that you weren’t actually insane. But if someone did believe you, it either meant they had also lost their mind or they truly knew something.

She was certain that Oliver wasn’t a madman. The fire of vengeance in his eyes showed that he was capable of truly doing something about it.

John turned to Eddie, his expression curious as he broke the silence. "What’s wrong, man?" he asked, his voice low.

Eddie tilted his head toward Oliver and Violet, his jaw tightening slightly as he watched the two of them deep in conversation. "Him," Eddie said, nodding toward Oliver. "His existence is enough."

John raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"

"There doesn’t need to be a reason. There’s just something... off about him," Eddie replied, a hint of irritation in his tone. "I can feel it."

John shrugged, his casual demeanor unbothered. "He’s just doing his job," he pointed out.

Eddie’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. "There’s something weird about him. I can sense it."

Before John could respond, a staff member entered the room. John quickly tossed his cigarette to the ground, stomping on it hastily, his hand fanning away the lingering smoke. 

Eddie stretched out on the couch, arms folded behind his head, while Max sat nearby, her gaze darting nervously around the room.

"You’ll get used to it in a few days, Max," Eddie said, a teasing grin spreading across his face.

Max rolled her eyes. "I’m not crazy, Eddie."

Eddie let out a sharp laugh. "But I am. The sooner you accept it, the easier it gets."

John nudged Eddie’s leg with his hand, an insistent poke that drew Eddie’s attention.

"What now?" Eddie snapped, feigning exasperation. "Can’t you leave me alone for two minutes? You’re exhausting."

The playful remark hung in the air as Eddie’s gaze wandered to the ceiling, his eyes tracing the outlines of the religious motifs painted above.

John cleared his throat. "Uh, Eddie?"

"Hmm?" Eddie muttered without looking at him.

"Those friends you always talk about—Steve and, uh, what’s-his-name..."

Eddie turned his head, his brow furrowing. "Yeah, what about them?"

"You said they weren’t dumb enough to call here," John said, his voice cautious.

Eddie sat up straight, his posture suddenly alert. 

His gaze followed John’s, locking onto the sight of Steve standing in the hallway, wearing a blue patient outfit, his curious eyes peering into the room. Beside him was Jonathan.

Rubbing his eyes as if to ensure he wasn’t dreaming, Eddie glanced at Max, who looked back at him with equal disbelief.

"Yeah," Eddie muttered, his voice dripping with irritation. "I was wrong. They’re even dumber than I thought."

Eddie stormed toward Steve, whose grin stretched so wide it showcased every one of his teeth. Steve nudged Jonathan with his elbow, who also broke into a smile upon seeing Eddie.

Their expressions faltered, though, as Eddie’s face grew darker the closer he got. Without hesitation, Eddie smacked each of them on the back of the head.

"What are you idiots doing here?" Eddie demanded, his tone sharp. "Steve, did you forget where the hairdresser’s is? And you, Jonathan? I thought you were the smart one!"

Steve raised a finger to his lips, motioning for Eddie to lower his voice. "You might want to yell a little louder," Steve quipped. "That mustached lady over there didn’t hear you."

Across the room, a woman seated alone at a table playing with domino tiles raised her hand. "I heard you, sweetheart," she called out.

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh despite himself, though the irritation lingered on Steve’s face.

Steve leaned in slightly, his voice more subdued. "Hopper got us in. We’re here to help you."

John, now chewing on a gum, glanced between Eddie and his friends, his expression unimpressed. "Great. Did  this Hopper guy also mention there’s no way out once you’re in here?"

Jonathan and Steve exchanged uneasy glances, but Eddie’s frustration boiled over. His teeth clenched as he grabbed both of them by the arms and dragged them to a corner.

"Vecna’s in Max, huh?" Eddie hissed. "That’s what you told Violet?"

Steve hesitated, his expression grim. "I don’t think so anymore," he admitted. "Actually, part of why we’re here is because of that. Vecna’s weak right now. Even if he picks a new victim, he doesn’t have the strength to take their life. So he’s waiting—for the weakest moment, the most miserable time."

"Dustin said the best place for that would be..." Jonathan started.

"An asylum," Steve finished for him.

Eddie raised his hand like a student seeking permission to speak. "Hold on a second. Are you telling me Vecna could possess anyone here?"

Steve nodded solemnly, confirming Eddie’s worst fear.

Steve’s voice carried a determined and calm confidence. "The more of us there are here, the safer we’ll be," he said. "We have to back each other up. They’re going to release Max today. She’s going to change the statement she gave about you. Once you’re out, we’ll get out too."

A shadow crossed Eddie’s face, his gaze trembling with worry. "What about Violet?" he asked, his voice slightly rising. "And John?"

Jonathan gently placed a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, his eyes carrying a soothing expression. "One thing at a time, Eddie" he said softly. "Let’s get you out first."

Eddie turned his head and gestured toward Max, who was sitting in the corner of the room. His gaze revealed a deep concern. "Don’t you think we should check if Vecna is inside her before we send her out of here?" he asked, his words hanging in the air like an echo.

Steve frowned, pausing for a moment as if in thought, then spoke as though he had figured it out. "Vecna hates heat," he said.

Jonathan nodded in agreement, his expression hinting at an answer to Eddie’s worry. "When he got into Will, he ran away from the fire in fear," he added. "We have a chance."

Steve’s gaze wandered around the room as he continued with a bit more hesitation. "But where are we going to find fire in here?"

A faint smile appeared on Eddie’s face. His eyes shifted to John, who was lighting a cigarette across the room. "I know," he said.

taglist: @arabellagreenleaf @cokepowder55 @nessa3nessa @25bohemianmoons @nicholaschavezslut69 @multyfangirl @t-folklore13

[sunnypopoki]

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 —

[ 𝗔 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗻𝘀 … ]

ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ! ɪᴛ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ʙᴇ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʙʟᴀɴᴋ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴀᴅᴅɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀɪᴇꜱ, ᴏɴᴇꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ.

ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀɴʏ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄɪᴢᴇᴅ! ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ꜱʜᴏᴡꜱ ꜱɪɢɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛᴏxɪᴄ, ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʙᴜꜱɪᴠᴇ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜʟᴛ ᴀ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴏʀ/ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴀᴅᴜʟᴛ.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ? ɢᴏ ᴀʜᴇᴀᴅ! ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴀɴᴏɴʏᴍᴏᴜꜱʟʏ ᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴜᴛᴛᴏɴ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴘ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰɪʟᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇɴᴅ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ! ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ᴀꜱᴋ Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ, ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ. ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴀɴᴅ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ.

𝙄𝙁 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙎𝙀𝙀 𝘼𝙉𝙔𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙋𝙔𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙈𝙔 𝙊𝙍𝙄𝙂𝙄𝙉𝘼𝙇 𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙎 (𝙨𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙖𝙨 𝙈𝙪𝙯𝙯𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙒𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙥𝙖𝙙/𝙌𝙪𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙫) 𝙋𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙎𝙀 𝙄𝙉𝙁𝙊𝙍𝙈 𝙈𝙀!!! 𝙋𝙡𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙢 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚. 𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙖𝙨𝙠 𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩. 𝘿𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙥𝙮.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

☆- angst, ♢- fluff, 〇- mature

𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑! 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

⦾ ━ 𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 (𝘈𝘍𝘈𝘉 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳) : 〇

⦾ ━ 𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 (𝘈𝘔𝘈𝘉 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳) : 〇

⦾ ━ 𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘝𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦 (𝘈𝘔𝘈𝘉 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳) : TBW

⦾ ━ 𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘎𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 (𝘈𝘍𝘈𝘉 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳) : 𝘛𝘉𝘞

⦾ ━ 𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘋𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 (𝘈𝘍𝘈𝘉 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳) : 𝘛𝘉𝘞

⦾ ━ 𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘈𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯 (𝘈𝘍𝘈𝘉 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳) : 𝘛𝘉𝘞

⦾ ━ 𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭 (𝘈𝘍𝘈𝘉 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳) : 𝘛𝘉𝘞

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

⦾ ━ 𝘔𝘶𝘻𝘻𝘭𝘦 (𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘢 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳) | 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 : 〇♢☆

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

⦾ ━ “𝘏𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺 𝘗𝘰𝘵” (𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘹 𝘈𝘍𝘈𝘉 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳) : TBW

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

⦾ ━ 𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘔𝘪𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘬 (𝘈𝘍𝘈𝘉 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳) : 𝘛𝘉𝘞

⦾ ━ 𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘡𝘰𝘳𝘰 (𝘈𝘍𝘈𝘉 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳) : 𝘛𝘉𝘞

⦾ ━ 𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘚𝘢𝘯𝘫𝘪 (𝘈𝘍𝘈𝘉 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳) : 𝘛𝘉𝘞

⦾ ━ 𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘙𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘯 (𝘈𝘍𝘈𝘉 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳) : 𝘛𝘉𝘞

𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

⦾ ━ “𝘎𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘌𝘺𝘦𝘴” (𝘔𝘪𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘬 𝘹 𝘈𝘍𝘈𝘉 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳) : 𝘛𝘉𝘞

𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

⦾ ━ 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥! 𝘙𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵.

[harryssyndrome]

Backstage To My Heart

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮, 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞𝐞𝐧?

Ashley and Rave burst into the cozy warmth of the coffee shop, both laughing breathlessly, their clothes damp from the sudden downpour outside. The smell of fresh coffee and the hum of quiet conversations welcomed them as they shook off the rain. The city outside was blurred by the droplets racing down the glass, but inside, the warmth of the café wrapped around them like a soft blanket.

"That was sooo worth getting drenched," Rave grinned, wiping her damp forehead with the back of her hand.

"I know right? The London Eye is magical," Ashley added, Ashley grinned, her cheeks flushed from the run. "Worth it though. I haven’t laughed like that in ages."

Ashley grinned, her eyes sparkling. "And that hilarious pod mate who couldn't stop taking selfies!”

“That type of guys are everywhere!”

They found a small table by the window, with raindrops dancing against the glass, blurring the view of the streets beyond. Settling into their chairs, they caught their breath, the excitement of the afternoon still lingering. Ashley dug into her soggy bag and rummaging through it pulled out a well-worn notebook, her song diary. “I just hope this didn't get ruined..." She flipped it open, checking the pages carefully.

"Is it okay?" Rave asked, leaning over the table.

Ashley smiled in relief. "Dry as a bone, thank god. I don’t know what I would’ve done if this journal had ruined." she said, flipping through the pages.

But as she did, Rave’s eyes caught on something tucked between the pages—a photo peeking out. With a knowing smirk, she reached over and gently tugged at the corner of the picture. “You carry him everywhere you go, huh?” she teased.

Ashley glanced down and saw the photo of Harry, her heart giving a little flutter. She nodded with a soft smile. "Guilty as charged. I need him to even think of ideas."

Shaking off the moment, she clicked her pen and began to jot down some new song ideas in the margins of the page. The rain outside became a soft, steady rhythm as they chatted idly.

Suddenly, the soft patter of tiny footsteps interrupted their conversation. A little girl, no older than three, came running up to their table with wide, curious eyes. Her blonde curls bounced with every step, and her small voice chimed like a bell.

"Hi! I'm Grace!" she announced proudly, staring up at Ashley with a beaming smile.

Ashley looked up, surprised by the tiny visitor standing at their table. She and Rave exchanged amused glances before Ashley responded, "Well, hello, Grace. I'm Ashley, and this is my friend Rave."

Grace giggled and pointed at the empty chair next to them. "Can I sit?"

Ashley chuckled, picking up the little girl and gently placing her in the chair. "Of course you can."

Grace immediately made herself comfortable, swinging her tiny legs as she engaged them in a childish, animated conversation about her favourite animals and the rain. In the midst of Grace's animated storytelling, her gaze landed on the photo lying beside Ashley's diary. Her face brightened even more, if that were possible. She pointed with wide eyes.

"Hey! You know my uncle?!"

Ashley blinked, confused for a moment, her mind racing. Uncle? But before she could piece it together, a familiar voice—one that made her heart race—came from behind them.

“Grace! There you are,” Harry’s voice, deep and warm, drifted over. Ashley froze, recognizing it instantly. She turned slowly as Harry approached the table, his eyes locking onto Grace first before flicking over to meet Ashley's. “You little troublemaker!” he said, scooping his niece up from the chair. "You had me worried! You trying to get me in trouble with your mom?" He tickled her, and Grace let out a shriek of laughter.

Ashley stared at him, her mind racing. She couldn’t believe her own eyes at the scene in front of her. It was the Harry Styles—his familiar smile, the playful gleam in his eyes. The photo of him was still on the table between them, and Ashley swallowed nervously. She gestured Rave with her eyes to hide the picture so that the already good moment doesn’t turn into a awkward one. Rave quickly grabbed the picture and placed it inside the diary.

"Sorry about that," Harry said with an apologetic grin, ruffling Grace’s curls. "She’s more social than I’ll ever be, even with people her own age."

Ashley smiled, trying to steady her breath. "Oh, she’s been a complete sweetheart! Trust me.”

Harry stood beside the table, still holding Grace in his arms, his eyes fixed on Ashley. There was something in the way she looked at him—familiar, comfortable—but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He cleared his throat, trying to bridge the gap of time between them.

“So, what have you been up to? You know, aside from making new friends with little rebels like Grace,” he asked with a light chuckle, nodding toward his niece, who was currently fiddling with a napkin on the table.

Ashley smiled, feeling the warmth of his attention. “Oh, you know, the usual... college, assignments. Just trying to balance everything,” she said, then hesitated for a second, her eyes flicking out the window to the rain-soaked streets. “And, uh… I sing part-time at this little place downtown.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, interest immediately piqued. “You’re singing? Like... professionally?”

Ashley gave a small laugh, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. “Well, I don’t know if you’d call it professional. It’s just a gig at this local bar. Helps with the rent, you know?”

“Really?” Harry tilted his head, surprised. “I didn’t know that. How long have you been doing that?”

Ashley shrugged. “A few months, I guess. It’s tough, but I love it. Singing’s always been... everything to me. Even when I’m struggling, it’s kind of the one thing that keeps me going.”

Harry’s expression softened, and for a moment, he could see her in a new light—not just as the girl he’d met through his niece, but as someone who was quietly fighting her own battles in the background, chasing her dreams just as he had once done. There was something about her honesty, her vulnerability, that tugged at him.

Just as Harry was about to ask more, Grace’s small voice cut through their conversation. “Uncle Harry, look!” she giggled, reaching for Ashley’s diary on the table. “She has a picture of—”

Ashley’s eyes widened slightly, her heart skipping a beat. Before Harry could react, she quickly leaned forward and placed a finger playfully over Grace’s lips. “Shhh...,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper, grinning at the little girl. “That’s our little secret, okay?”

Grace giggled, nodding, her curls bouncing with the movement.

Harry glanced between the two of them, his brow furrowed slightly with curiosity, though he didn’t press the matter. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “What’s this about a picture?”

Ashley waved it off with a light laugh, trying to play it cool. “Oh, nothing. Grace is just being... well, Grace.”

But before Harry could probe any further, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen, his expression shifting as he saw his sister’s name flash across it. “It’s Gemma. I should probably get Grace back to her before she sends out a search party.” Harry quips, says his sister’s name like the girls already knew her.

Ashley nodded, a mix of relief and disappointment settling in. “Of course, don’t let me keep you.”

Harry stood up straighter, adjusting Grace in his arms as he pocketed his phone. “But hey, I’d really like to see you again,” he said, his tone sincere, his eyes meeting hers with a warmth that made her heart skip. “Maybe... we could catch up properly sometime?”

Ashley smiled, her nerves fluttering unexpectedly. “I’d like that.”

Harry gave her one last glance, his gaze lingering on her longer than usual, as if he wanted to say something more but wasn’t quite sure how to. Instead, he simply nodded. “I’ll make sure of it.”

As he turned to leave, Grace wriggled in his arms, leaning toward Ashley with a wide smile. “Bye, Ashley!” she chirped.

Ashley leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Remember, Grace—our little secret, okay?”

Grace giggled again, nodding furiously. “Okay! Secret!”

Harry glanced down at Grace, raising an eyebrow. “What secret?”

“Nothing,” Ashley and Grace said in unison, causing both women to burst into laughter.

Harry gave them both a bemused smile before shaking his head. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you two to your secrets.”

With one final smile, Harry was about to walk out of the coffee shop, when Grace break lose from her uncle’s grasp and runs back to Ashley, “Oh my, little escapist!” chuckling to herself she bends down to wrap her arms around the little girl and gently kissing her forehead before releasing her, “I’ll see you soon okay? Don’t wanna keep your uncle waiting now, do we?” Grace nods her head swiftly before giving a soft peck on Ashley’s cheek and running off to Harry who watched the whole interaction with sweet smile never leaving his face. He grabbed his niece’s hand and stepped out of the coffee parlour, the bell above the door jingling softly as it closed behind him. Ashley watched him disappear into the rainy streets, her mind still buzzing from the unexpected encounter.

As she sat back in her chair, she found herself smiling. The feelings were resurfacing for Harry—something that had always drawn her in. And now, even after all this time, that feeling hadn’t faded. If anything, it was stronger.

Rave, who had been quietly observing the entire interaction, finally leaned in with a teasing grin. “Well, that was interesting.”

Ashley chuckled, shaking her head. “Yeah… interesting is one way to put it.”

“She really adores you.”

“Me too.”

A/N: The first chapter is up!! I’m so happy with how this one turned out! Like, comment and reblog are appreciated. DO NOT REPOST MY WORK I WILL FIND YOU. Please let me know what you think about the story so far and if you wanna be added to the tag-list so let me know in the comment section below or via DMs.

STORY MASTERLIST

Tag-List: @prettygurl-2009 @sassamanda77 @thecuriousbeauty @daisyblog

Posted on: September 30th, 2024

[nerawrites]

Plated, But Unfinished

Alicia has spent her life in kitchens, using the heat and chaos as both an escape and a proving ground. Known in the culinary world as Lloris, a rising star with an elusive identity, she built her reputation through relentless work, never allowing the spotlight to fall on her—only on her food. But the past has a way of catching up, and after one catastrophic night in the kitchen—one mistake, one outburst—everything she built comes crashing down.

With nothing but impulse and desperation driving her, Alicia abandons her life overnight. She erases Lloris, sells everything, and takes the next flight out—landing in Chicago, a city she knows nothing about. Reinventing herself under a new name, she manages to secure a job at The Bear, an up-and-coming restaurant with a chaotic energy all its own. Determined to keep her past buried, Alicia throws herself into this fresh start, unaware that the very things she’s running from—pressure, talent, and a stubbornly persistent famous chef—might make it impossible to stay hidden.

Ships: Carmy x Fem!oc, other The Bear x Fem!oc

Warning: Yelling, cursing, death, grieving Carmy being not so good of a person, English is not my first language so I apologize for my spelling and grammar, story doesn’t fully follow cannon.

Things to know:

-Placed in season two

-Clair and Camry are on and off in their relationship

Status: still on going (CURRENT POLL)

Character List

Prologue

Moodboard

Chapters:

| Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9| Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapters 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26 | Chapter 27 | Chapter 28 | Chapter 29 | More coming soon…

Extras:

Coming soon…

[readingcomics-sometimeshiatus]

Sapphic Webtoon Masterlist

One day I thought that maybe it should exist a list with all the sapphic stories of webtoon since is so hard to find.

today I decided to make this list

you can also comment stories that are not listed here!

Sapphic = woman loving woman. although this name means any queer woman (e.g. lesbians, pansexuals, etc.), in this list will only have the ones where the main couple are two woman (or one is not a man).

Last updated: January 23th, 2024

please check up the reblogs to see when the last time was updated if you see this on a reblog!

Originals

Not So Shoujo Love Story (comedy, in progress)

Romance-super-fan Rei Chan is ready for her first boyfriend and she knows just who it'll be: the most handsome boy in school, Hansum Ochinchin. But her plans for the perfect love story are derailed when the most popular girl in class declares herself a rival….for Rei's heart?! This is the year her not so shoujo love story begins!

Nevermore (supernatural, in progress);

There is nothing definitive about life after death, except the involuntary enrollment at the mysterious Nevermore Academy. Now Lenore and Annabel Lee must begin their curriculum to recover the memories of their tragic demise. Between the Dean's macabre demeanor and the tell-tale dangers of Final Exams, both girls must learn to rely on one another and their newly acquired ghost forms, or Spectres, to not only graduate from the academy… but to earn a second chance at life.

Night Owls & Summer Skies (romance, completed);

Despite her tough exterior, seventeen year-old Emma Lane has never been the outdoorsy type. So when her mother unceremoniously dumps her at Camp Mapplewood for the summer, she’s determined to get kicked out fast. However, when she draws the attention of Vivian Black, a mysterious and gorgeous assistant counselor, she discovers that there may be more to this camp than mean girls and mosquitos. There might even be love.

Realta (fantasy, in progress);

When the world was new, the twelve star signs descended to bless humanity with magic according to their date of birth. Fourteen worthy people, called the “Realta,” were given a star from each Sign that allowed them to receive prophecies of the future called “horoscopes” and summon great power to defeat the Fae: beings that tormented humanity. However, much has changed since Elowen was a child. Magic is illegal, the Fae are getting stronger, and the Realta have been forgotten…until our Virgo meets a certain Capricorn.

Muted (supernatural, completed);

On the full moon of her 21st year, the young witch, Camille Severin, is expected to perform the traditional ritual to summon forth a winged demon for her families success and prosperity. But when the ritual goes wrong, it reveals the terrifying truths about herself and the secrets that threaten to tear her family apart.

Mage & Demon Queen (comedy, completed;

Adventurers seek to take the demon queen’s head, but a love-struck young female mage wishes to take her hand. Join us won’t you, for this bawdy tale of love and persistence set inside a real-life RPG.

REVEAL OUT! (romance, will return);

Eeden thought she'd missed out on life: her art career is a disaster, her landlord kicked her out, and worst of all, she's never even had a girlfriend! But life takes a turn when a chance encounter with an old crush sends her back in time. Now she's 18 again and starting college, with a chance to get everything right. Armed with a plan and a crush, Eeden knows exactly how to create the life full of joy she deserves: make it bold, make it beautiful, and most of all, make it gay!!

High Class Homos (comedy, in progress);

Princess Sapphia of Mytilene is not into princes. So, when her parents start putting the heat on her to get hitched, she enlists the help of her equally gay best friend, Prince August of Phthia. But will these two royals be able to pull off a convincing sham marriage? More importantly, will Sapphia ever land a date with the castle maids? Follow these high class homos as they navigate life, love, and (occasionally) their actual jobs.

Finding Wonderland (fantasy, completed);

In Wonderland, Alex is the Ace. When tasked with hunting down the nefarious Black Knave and his scourge of Nightmares, Alex begins to have visions of another world beyond: our world. In reality, Alex is a normal teen who has been placed in a dangerous simulation to draw out a scientist’s lost son. And time is quickly running out.

Aerial Magic (fantasy, completed);

The daily life of an apprentice witch.

Always Human (romance, completed);

This is a story about nanobots, genetic engineering, and two girls falling in love. No matter how technology changes us, we'll always be human.

Savior (fantasy, completed);

Wohn Ku is a vampire that needs human blood to survive. As a tenderhearted child, she led a tortured existence until a girl named Seyeon willingly became her steady blood source. Seyeon stood by Wohn throughout their school years, defending her from bullies. Fast forward to the present where they move in together ahead of their freshman year of college. Seyeon remains fiercely protective of her friend, but Wohn is ready for a fresh start. When a devoutly religious sophomore girl named Juyi showers her with kindness, Wohn emerges from her shell only to realize that Juyi had once been her father’s kidnapping victim, a potential blood source she had refused to bite. Juyi grows closer to Wohn without remembering the incident, fueling jealousy in Seyeon. Will Juyi prove to be a savior washing away Wohn’s guilt, or will she ruin a vampire’s dream of redemption?

CANVAS

My Dragon Girlfriend (romance/slice of life, in progress);

Christy is saved from a bad date by a dragon girl and introduced to world of magical creatures while falling in love with her savior.

Susuhara Is A Demon (slice of life/romance, in progress);

After a perfect girl encounters an infamous delinquent, her life is thrusted into a whirlwind of chaos! Strap in for a ride jam-packed with terribly embarrassing flirting techniques, kick-ass delinquents and existential dread by the buttload! Nothing could possibly go wrong in this perfectly imperfect love story.

Fatal Kiss (romance/supernatural, in progress);

What would you do if your crush was a monster?

The Pirate and The Princess (romance/historic, in progress);

Princess Kirianna has been raised for two purposes; marriage and succession. As a dutiful, intelligent, and optimistic girl, she came to terms with her fate long ago, and simply longs to be content. The last thing she expected was to be pulled into a life of piracy, by a woman in disguise who has a strange grudge against Kirianna's father, and a secret of her own to hide…. Captain is given male pronouns by me until her name drop in Chapter 10!

Eldritch Darling (supernatural/comedy, in progress);

What if we kissed and we were both girls? And one of us was an oblivious human and the other was a dark eldritch abomination creature from beyond the stars??

Deep Sea (romance/fantasy, in progress);

Atarah is convinced : she is not cut out to be a princess. And when her father tells her that the time has come for her to get married, the world of the young princess crumbles: her heart dreams of adventure, and not of an arranged marriage! It is therefore at the worst of times that Atarah meets Robin, a pirate with questionable morals and a tumultuous past. But where will this crazy encounter lead her heart?

The Siren's Light (romance/fantasy, in progress);

I was sinking, the darkness was slowly surrounding me. The depth of the sea was pulling me lower and lower, I could no longer see the moonlight that glowed from above. But, Who was this silver-haired beautiful creature with an alluring voice swimming towards me? "You are a beautiful one." Her voice was so clear and soothing. And before I knew it, She kissed me. Who was this creature you asked? A siren. A flirtatious, annoying siren that changed my life forever. Author: @roseyluv143 (wattpad)

In My Heart (romance/drama, in progress);

Sasaki Mari is a typical delinquent troublemaker whose only goal is to get a boyfriend, but due to her reputation as bully and low grades, all the boys reject her. Then she decides to change her style, and asks for help from the student with the best grades in the class.

My Devotion to You (romance/drama, in progress);

For the past five years, Catalina has spent all-nighters studying and acing exams to become number the one student and prove her place in the academy. Unfortunately, no matter how much she tried…she has been stuck as number two…all because of Valeria Graham. Valerie is tired and does not expect this year to be much different. She will maintain her Top Student title just like her family expects her to. It would be like any other year…right? And so, their final year begins.

My Cat is a Wizard (fantasy/romance, in progress);

Caitlyn is a just an ordinary, struggling student in her final year of university… Or so she thinks. After having her heart broken yet again, her cat suddenly becomes human. She must now juggle the difficulties of school, work, and all the twists and turns life keeps throwing at her: like her cat/roommate being a wizard. Can Cait still fall in love while magic slowly takes over her world?

Honey and Venom (romance/heartwarming; in progress);

An ancient Roman goddess is reunited with her priestess 2000 in the future, but she doesn't remember her! The closer they grow, the more secrets their shared past reveals, all while an ancient adversary lurks in the shadows.

Greta the Red Wolf (supernatural/action, in progress);

An injured wolf pup and an abandoned baby appear at the doorstep of a couple’s home near the woods. The couple decides to take them in, but little did they know that the wolf was actually a werewolf, and the baby a vampire! Despite their shocked human parents, Greta the werewolf and Vincent the vampire had a blissful upbringing. However, as Greta and Vincent grow older, their quiet, peaceful lives are threatened as they discover the secret world of witches, vampires, and werewolves.

RAINBOW! (slice of life/romance, in progress);

Overly imaginative teenager Boo Meadows has always escaped her daily grind by living with her head in the clouds-- for better or worse. But when she meets the girl of her daydreams, it may finally be time to face reality.

Winter Before Spring (drama/romance, in progress);

Hana has recently just fallen in love with her best friend, who just happens to be a girl. After a confrontation with her best friend, Hana accidentally blurts out and confesses her true feelings. Fearing that she would be rejected, her friend accepts her feelings graciously and they start dating. Is this a dream? Hana, overwhelmed with happiness as her wish came true- is suddenly struck down, her world crashing down as she finds out the nasty truth about her best friend.

The Hideout (romance/drama, hiatus);

Nadia is a 18 year old teenage girl that’s finishing high school and working part-time on her aunts coffee shop named “The Hideout” Nadia also happens to not be very lucky when it comes to the love department and that, mixed with overworking herself, has taken a toll on her quite heavily recently. Reading direction is left to right

The Grand Priestess (fantasy/action, hiatus);

Verashana, a powerful sorceress, delves into the past after an incident separates her from her lover, hoping to learn more about the tragedy that occurred. Her hidden memories resurface, and she unlocks a world that she didn't know she was a part of. Now, she must find out where it all started, and where it all went wrong.

Love, Lila (romance/drama, hiatus);

A one-sided love & rivalry between an aspiring ballerina and an artist. Irene comes from a strict and close-minded household which is against her pursuing a career in arts, as a result of her upbringing she became cold, insecure, and distrustful. Then she met Lila, a perfect girl who has everything and is everything Irene wishes to become. But as she gets to know Lila better, she discovers that her privileged upbringing actually hides a traumatic family secret.

Facing the Sun (sci-fi/drama, in progress);

Fear. Grief. Trauma. Guilt. Love, all seen through the eyes of a dysfunctional android prototype well past her estimated lifespan.

I LIKE MY BEST-FRIEND (drama, ongoing);

(since I'm on phone, I'm gonna put this one later)

Unleashed (romance, ongoing);

(since I'm on phone, I'm gonna put this one later)

Pick Me!! (romance, ongoing);

wip

Lotus and the Dandelion (fantasy, ongoing);

wip

The Greenhouse (drama, ongoing);

wip

I want to be your wife! (drama, completed);

wip

Warm Spring Rain (romance; ongoing);

wip

What's A Soulmate (heart-warming; ongoing);

wip

5 More Minutes (romance, ongoing);

wip

Slice of Life (heart-warming, ongoing);

wip

Our Secret (drama, ongoing);

wip

Don't Look at the Sky (fantasy, ongoing);

wip

Somebody to you (romance, ongoing);

wip

[daisyblog]

Show Me Love

A Harry Styles Story

Trigger warnings:  18+, anxiety, sexual content, strong language, emotional abuse, alcohol use, undiagnosed/struggling with learning difficulty. 

Summary: Harry and Evie meet at university, bond over their shared love for music and pop-rock bands.

Whilst Evie struggles with anxiety, loving herself and her difficult family dynamic, Harry lives with a calm, content and happy life surrounded by a loving family, everything she has ever dreamed of.

Evie doesn’t realise she’s looking for love until Harry shows her what love really is and she doesn’t have to be sorry for leaving and growing up.

Chapters: Chapter One: Evie

Chapter Two: Harry

Chapter Three: Evie

Chapter Four: Harry