#please tell me if I write harmful stuff

[zenaidamacrouras1]

I saw a post today ranting about how social justice has made people afraid to write whatever they want and people should be free and not worry about offending anyone and I am like... should they???

Is it such a bad thing if my fic doesn't accidentally harm or marginalize people? Do I want to ruin someone's day by making them feel like garbage because of biases in my writing?

I'm not super comfortable with a freedom that makes other people feel like they are invisible and not welcome in fandom.

All of us will always accidentally be a bull in a china shop at many points in our lives. I don't really see that as a point of pride or essential to my creative process.

[sludgeguzzler]

look i really dont mind having a pre t body with its little biological quirks but i have a limit and the limit is waking up at 4am with immense pain and a puddle of blood on my bed

[ozzgin]

IM SORRY, but I need a whole smut fanfic with yandere ASMRtist where he just straight up fucks reader and posts it, and people like it

Even better if it was an accident! Although let me add a little disclaimer that this concept turned more BDSM-oriented than I initially planned, but it has no correlation whatsoever to ASMR. Just wanted to point it out because the community already struggles with the sexualization of content. The guy just happens to be kinky. Content: gender neutral reader, male yandere, NSFW, BDSM themes (bondage, spanking, collaring, name-calling)

He’s doing his usual sound recording, yet today it a little different. You're particularly cheeky, kneeling before him, back arched and bottom up. The pillow is soaked with your drool, lips forcefully parted by a bit gag. You're a mess.

Today, he's particularly aroused by your hooded eyes and damp skin. No harm in taking a break from his work, is there? His hand lands another rough spank, followed by his fingers tracing across your privacy. It seems he isn't the only one terribly pent up.

He gives you a little encouraging jolt before clarifying with a spoken order: "Spread."

You obediently follow his instructions, eager to be touched by more than his hand. He grins at your visible excitement.

"My, what a greedy whore you're being today. You're still red and swollen from the spanking, are you sure you want me to do even more damage?"

He presses himself into you as if to prove his point, though the feeling of his throbbing erection really only makes matters worse. You nod desperately and groan.

Once he's done pounding the life out of you, he stands up nonchalantly and dusts off his hands, gazing at his masterpiece: you're sprawled onto the mattress, heaving, dripping with his seed. Another fruitful day of pleasing his Darling.

He quickly finishes the last retouches of the recorded ASMR session and uploads it to his channel, distracted by the thought of a potential second round.

"Don't get up", he demands from his chair. "I'm not done with you yet." Judging by your expression, however, it's not likely you had any other intention to begin with.

Later in the evening, he idly checks his phone, somewhat surprised by the sudden influx of views and comments.

"Wow, this is probably your longest video so far. You're spoiling us", someone writes.

"What's the stuff at the end? Sounds bizarrely wet, yet tingly", someone else wonders.

His smile abruptly pales as it dawns of him: he never stopped recording. In a moment of anger, he throws his phone into the nearest wall, and you stumble over, startled by the commotion.

Damn it! That was his special moment. He feels like he'd just fucked you before the masses. His precious time - meant to be savored - has been tainted by the ears of plebeians.

He marches towards the bedroom, pulling you after him by the little house collar you must wear inside. No matter, he tells himself frantically, he'll just have to redo it. He'll fuck you even better this time, and it'll be for him only.

[Yandere!ASMRtist Concept] | [More yandere works]

[traegorn]

Girl you can rant and rave all day but we all know for a fact you can't vote your way out of this mess so your "genuinely, what else can we do?" sounds like pure cucked defeatism. This downward spiral of American fascism has proven stable, so no, voting isn't going to stop it. The democrats will never be pushed left - as proven by blatant history. I know this is your cue to list a bunch of social services or civil rights concessions a la #bidenwins but the drip violence of homophobia and abortion restrictions under republicans does not come close to the bipartisan armed tyranny that murders people in broad daylight.

Voting isn't going to solve any of this, and no voting isn't going to "clear the way" or make it easier to resist. Democrats have proven over and over and over again they will use the full force of violence to stop anything that truly threatens them and the ONLY WAY to stop American fascism is to threaten them, to threaten the very foundations of the system itself.

You exert all this effort, have all this pained frustration, over the weakest political action you can take. You are not challenging fascism or tyranny or helping any of the people harmed under bipartisan violence. You ignore these people and focus on "harm reduction" for the few who do benefit from the pitiful social safety nets democrats eke out only to be undermined in the next four or eight years as republicans INEVITABLY take back power. Such is the case of a two party system, as history proves. You're staving off the inevitable by exerting all this energy into electoralism, and the people you "save" by electing democrats are inevitably hurt anyways when republicans INEVITABLY take back power - because that's what the system guarantees.

You exist in a cycle of abuse with the American government, a punishment-reward system under the 2 parties that keeps you afraid of punishment and too desperate for reward that you ignore how the hand that feeds you is also putting kids in cages and blowing up babies overseas. You, and everyone who thinks like you, will never be the ones to save anybody.

Idk I was pissed and now got all sad again after writing this. Just so you know my being sad at the state of your ideology isn't a representation of my passivity that people like you like to construe - I am painfully politically active. But it's just...sick. You're stuck in an abusive cult and now I just feel bad for you

I'm usually a lot nicer when I reply to folks, but you brought a certain energy that deserves a different response. I want to be clear to any passersby who I'd normally be polite to in this kind of conversation: This energy is reserved only for chucklefucks who bring this kind of shit to me. Please do not take this as a reflection as to how I'd treat people willing to engage honestly and civilly with me. This anon came to me unprovoked, so they're getting a rather unique response.

So here we go.

Oi, shit head. This was the stupidest thing I've read all day.

Democrats 100% have moved left in the last 40 years. Are we still recovering from when they got dragged right by Reagan in the 80s? Yes. But we've made headway getting things back on track. You claim a lot of stuff here, but don't cite a single example. Likely because you just repeat what someone else told you on TikTok that one time. You couldn't find your way through actual theory if it smacked you in the face with its dick. But you don't want me to actually justify it.

Because your own words told me you'd dismiss any evidence I provided:

I know this is your cue to list a bunch of social services or civil rights concessions a la #bidenwins but the drip violence of homophobia and abortion restrictions under republicans does not come close to the bipartisan armed tyranny that murders people in broad daylight.

Bitch, this shit is a sliding scale. Trump authorized more drone strikes than Obama did in eight years. Are they bad? Yes. But if you're telling me you want more murders, Trump's your guy. Guess what, living in America means dealing with the fact that you've been complicit in genocide this whole time. Look at the land you stand on -- it is soaked in blood. Look at the smart phone you're reading this on, it literally came out of a genocide.

You bathe in blood every day, fucking figure it out.

We do our best to minimize harm. And if you'd ACTUALLY read or watched anything I've said, your two half dead braincells would have noticed the part where I constantly say "voting is not the end of your activism." It's the fucking start.

Either Harris or Trump will be the next President. Trump will be worse. If you aren't doing everything you can to stop him, you're not a leftist, you're a grandstanding piece of shit who doesn't care about anything other than the smell of your own farts.

You want to fuck up the two parties? Great. Put in the fucking work -- because the Presidential election ain't it, shithead. Build a real movement from the ground up. Build community, build a party system, run local candidates. When's the last time your ass went to a city council meeting or a school board meeting? Do you even know when they're held where you live?

But let's face it, you couldn't coalition build if you tried because you're so far up your own ass you kiss your small intestine goodnight.

Daddy Revolution ain't coming, shithead. There's work to do, so get your head out of your ass and do it.

You want Trump to win? Netanyahu would kiss you on the lips for it. Fuck off.

[taeyongdoyoung]

lobos, we cannot stop hunting

summary: the full moon comes and you insist on staying with your best friend despite his valiant warnings to make you run away from him... pairing: werewolf!chan x reader genre: smut, fantasy, best friends to lovers warnings: *takes a deep breath* heat suppressants, hugging, werewolf transformation, kissing, making out, hair-pulling, eating out, begging, fingering, overstimulation, consent is established multiple times, slightly mean dom!chan but overall a sweetheart, praise+degradation, size kink (duh), unprotected sex on the floor, knotting, breeding kink, mating *exhales* author's note: happy halloween, baby stays!!! 🐺 make sure to get some yummy treats and always remember to say the magic words please and thank you 😈 but ESPECIALLY please as the king of the wolves taught us 😉🛐 word count: 1.8k

"It's a full moon tonight," your werewolf best friend Chan says.

"So?" you murmur, not even bothering to look up from your phone. Those F1 reels that keep popping up on your feed are so interesting! "You've got your pills and stuff? You'll be fine, same as always."

"I ran out, actually," Chan scratches the back of his head nervously.

You put down your phone. Sorry, sexy F1 guys, you can wait.

"Can't you get more?" you ask him.

"No, my doctor is out of town. It's his anniversary with his wife and his phone is turned off."

"Goddamnit, Chan, and you tell me that now?" you are immediately worried about your best friend.

Before he started these pills, Chan told you that the full moon was like really bad on him. As in, he was completely out of control and had these...urges that he had to take care of by himself. Basically, he was in a lot of pain. He's been using these pills for the last two years and they've been working miraculously. Chan was pretty much like a human during the usually dangerous for werewolves full moon. Thankfully, his doctor has been very helpful in giving him plenty of these amazing pills.

"I'm sorry...I thought I had one left but I must have miscalculated."

"Chan, I keep telling you to write these stuff down in advance," you shake your head. "What are you going to do tonight?"

"Suffer through it, I guess. I was just giving you a heads-up so you can get out of here...like right about now."

"What? No way I'm leaving you alone!" you argue passionately. "What if you die?"

"Uh, I'm pretty sure I won't. But you don't get it, without my pills, I could unwittingly put you in danger. My best chance to make sure I'm not a menace to civilized society is to lock the door and tie myself up or something."

"That sounds horrible!" you cry out, feeling intense sympathy for your best friend. "I don't want to leave you alone."

"You have to!" Chan insists. "I would hate myself if I hurt you."

"You won't!" you keep trying to persuade him. "I trust you more than anyone else in the universe."

Chan shakes his head, still hesitant.

"Please, you should leave before the moon comes up."

Little does he know it has already begun to rise...

"No, I'm not leaving you," you keep saying and wrap your arms around him.

Chan desperately tries to push you away. But it is too late.

As the moon's power grows, so does his. The only thing that prevents you from continuing to embrace him is his oncoming transformation. Your arms fall weakly to your side as you witness the impossible. His generally tender, adorable features quickly turn into sharp, wolflike and kind of intimidating ones, if you have to be honest. But this is your best friend, your Chan, you keep reminding yourself. And all the fear disappears from your body. As you kneel down next to him, you run your hand through his soft fur, trying to pet him.

He initially snarls and tries to scare you off but the more you insist, the more he relaxes under your gentle touch. God, you can't believe he was afraid he'd harm you. He's just...a big puppy.

You can't resist the temptation and you hug him again. He's so fluffy you're gonna die! And then, the unimaginable happens. He fucking purrs! Oh dear, if you had already been having a hard time trying to hide your feelings for your best friend, then seeing him like this would surely be your demise.

Then, unexpectedly, he shifts back to his human form, taking you by surprise. One, because that was faster than you'd expected. Two, because he's entirely naked, but doesn't seem perturbed by it. You try your best to look him in the eyes because uh...you're still not sure where this is going.

"Please, go, I don't think I can control myself any longer," Chan begs.

"Control what?" you're so confused. "I already witnessed you in your wolf form, you seem pretty chill."

"It's not my wolf form you should be scared of," Chan warns darkly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you don't get out of my sight in the next ten seconds, I'll fuck you until you pass out. And maybe even after that."

Oh? Wait...OH!!!

"Was that supposed to be a threat or a promise?" you quirk your eyebrows at him.

"Hold on, don't tell me you're actually excited by the prospect?" Chan wants to make sure.

"I mean...don't threaten me with a good time," you shrug calmly.

Chan kneels next to you, grabbing your hands tightly.

"I'm serious right now, don't play with me."

"What makes you think I'm not serious? I trust you, I want you, I lo- Uh, I like you a lot, whatever you do, that won't change," you mentally curse yourself for almost saying the big L-word. You hope he didn't catch that.

Judging from Chan's expression, he seems pretty satisfied with your statement.

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you," he whispers and kisses you harshly, biting your lips and making a mess.

Your mouths are linked by an unending streak of saliva, but honestly you couldn't care less as he claims you, pushing his tongue deeper down your throat, gripping your hair with his fingers for better access. You are already melting. You spoke too soon. You are definitely not ready for this. But you wouldn't be able to make him stop, even if you wanted to.

"Last chance," Chan breaks the kiss to give you the opportunity to back out. To get out of here while you still can.

"Do your worst," you challenge him recklessly and he kisses you again, even harder than before if that is possible.

You know that your best friend, despite his shy and cute demeanour, is physically stronger and bigger than you, but seeing him like this, completely losing control is such a thrill you make sure to commit the picture to memory as vividly as you can.

Chan takes off your clothes in a hurry and just like a hungry wolf, attacks your pussy. And starts devouring it as if it's his last meal on Earth. He doesn't even make the effort to get to the couch, which is so close. He just takes you right there, on the floor. You shake uncontrollably, but he grips your thighs to stop you from moving.

"Please, please, please," you keep repeating even though you have no idea what you're asking for. For him to keep going? For him to stop? You don't know anymore.

"I like it when you beg," Chan smirks against your folds and dives back in, swimming in your water.

It doesn't take you long to burst, completely letting go for him.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," he praises you, not giving you time to recover and tracing circles around your entrance with his big fingers.

"No, you," you whisper weakly, trying to make him slow down by pushing his hand away. Needless to say, your efforts are in vain. "I'm s-sensitive."

Chan laughs cruelly.

"You can take it," his words are meant to be reassuring but they're not, as he sticks his finger inside of you.

It's just one but it's already so thick you are beginning to lose your mind.

"C-chan, p-please," you cry for him.

"What is it, sweetheart? You want another?" he mocks your lack of coherence and adds a second finger without waiting for your approval.

"N-no, I c-can't," you shake your head desperately.

"Yes, you can," Chan seems fully convinced, adding a third finger. "You're so tiny, gotta stretch you up real good to be able to take my cock next. Don't you want that, babygirl?"

"Yes, I want it," you are quick to agree and do your best to relax for his big fingers.

"Gonna let me take this sweet pussy with my wolf cock? Claim you as mine? Give you my pups?" he asks gently, his unrestrained actions in complete contrast with his sweet words.

"Yes, yes! Gonna let you breed me like the stupid bitch I am," you answer, degrading yourself in the process.

"That's what I like to hear, darling," Chan praises you and makes you come again on his fingers.

You are almost about to pass out. But somehow you manage to hold on for the next part. You want to feel it. Every second of it.

"Are you sure?" he asks once again, melting your heart.

"I've never been more sure about anything in my life," you reaffirm your belief in him.

Chan doesn't wait for a second offer and slides his cock inside of you. Fucking hell, if you thought his fingers were pretty huge, his manhood is on a whole different level. You try to adjust to his monstrous size and focus on his beautiful eyes instead. He's still your Chan, your sweet-

"Fuck, your pussy's so small, gonna rip you in half," Chan grunts loudly.

Okay, not so sweet after all.

"Please, don't. Or do, it's fine by me," you attempt to make a joke.

He laughs and kisses you again, going in deeper. You wrap your hands around his neck in a tremendous effort to ground you, help you remain conscious through it all.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Chan keeps talking meanly. "Want me to ruin that tiny pussy of yours?"

"Yes, yes, I want it all," you repeat mindlessly, not caring about the consequences anymore.

Then, as if by some miracle, you feel his cock growing even more while inside of you. Is that even possible? You thought it was just a myth.

Luckily, you're wetter than ever and your pussy easily swallows his knot.

"Gonna fuck you full of my cum, make you my mate, is that okay?" Chan wants to be sure.

"It's okay, Chan, I'll be your mate," you promise, not even sure what that means. But whatever it is, you're fine with it, as long as it's with Chan...

Then, he releases his wolf seed inside of your pussy, making you feel so full, so warm, so complete.

"Take it, baby, I know you can," he reassures you and you do your best to accept his overflowing victory.

It is a total mystery how you still haven't passed out. But you're grateful for it. You'd like to treasure this moment forever.

"I don't think I'll be able to let go of you anytime soon," Chan chuckles softly, still inside of you.

"That's alright, I think I can get used to this," you respond happily, kissing him again.

"Great. 'Cause I don't plan to ever stop hunting you, my sweet little prey," Chan vows.

"I am but a willing victim to whatever it is the full moon did to you," you smile contentedly.

"And if it's not just the full moon?" Chan asks, biting your earlobe playfully with his sharp teeth. "What if I want to have my way with you every night?"

"Who needs sleep anyways?"

The End

[etherealyoungk]

college bf!mingyu scenarios

requested: by anon

pairing: mingyu x reader

wordcount: 893

a/n: i found this long lost in my drafts and thought i might as well post it.

college bf!mingyu who would be the heartthrob of the campus, but in reality, he only had eyes for you. you first met him when you accidentally bumped into him when you were in a rush trying to get to class. and in the process, all your papers went flying. mingyu was sweet and helped you gather your stuff, except you picked up the wrong notebook - his instead and you ran off, not bothering to check until you were sat in class and opened to book only to realise that it wasn't yours. naturally, you looked for him and gave him back his book, but after that day, you found yourself running into him more often.

college bf!mingyu who would pack you an extra lunch for himself so you could some of his too. he knows you love his cooking and you always end up stealing a bite of his food even though you tell him you're not hungry, but he knows better. he'll also pack extra snacks and they're all your favorite ones too.

college bf!mingyu who would follow you around like a puppy in between or after classes, hanging out with you in the library because you told him you needed to study or work on assignments. he'd sit with you too, saying he'll study with you too, but that's just an excuse to be next to you. he's watching you as you're busy solving questions, his arm propped up on the table, his head resting in his palm as he watches you, a smile on his face because how did he get so lucky. he'd be so whipped for you truly.

college bf!mingyu who is just so whipped and in love with you. everyone can tell by the way he looks at you that he adores you with his whole heart and would fight anyone if they posed any harm to you.

college bf!mingyu who would be absolutely appalled when you decide to go to class when you've fallen sick badly. he scolds you lightly when he spots you in the hallway and is quick to scoop you away and drop you back to your apartment. he'll make you a hearty soup so you can feel better, assuring you that the world wasn't going to end if you skipped one class. he says he'll help you on the assignment and gather the notes for you and he does, in a rather impressive manner.

college bf!mingyu who's always planning dates after class. he'll always have a cafe or new restaurant he wants to go to with you. and he's always so excited too, so how can you say no to him when he asks you so sweetly with the most pretty smile in the entire world.

college bf!mingyu who always sits next to you in the classes you have together. he'll always write little love notes in your notebook or draw silly little doodles, which make you smile whenever you open your notebook.

college bf!mingyu who's always and i mean always taking the chance to flirty with you. he'll drop the silliest pickup lines, flirting with you left right and centre and loves seeing you get all shy as you smack his arm in an attempt to get him to stop. "he practices all these atrocious lines on us", seungkwan says in disgust while mingyu just beams at you with his gorgeous smile.

college bf!mingyu who loves sharing his airpods with you during lunch break or whenever you both just want to have a little quiet time but still be with each other. he loves showing you new music he found and you do to.

college bf!mingyu who will always ask for kisses in between classes because,"they recharge me babe please", he says every time, while you just stare at him, crossing your arms. he pouts his lips in response and shows you his cheek as he waits for you to kiss him, getting all happy when you do, not letting you off with just one kiss.

college bf!mingyu who would be your study buddy and tutor you on some subjects if you were having a hard time, especially during exam season. he's also packing you wholesome lunchboxes and will always remind you to take breaks and not overwork yourself. he hates it when you stay up late or pull all-nighters to study and hates seeing you in so much stress. he's pulling you away from your books and getting you to bed, holding you in his arms as you fall asleep in minutes, your body and mind tired and he kisses your forehead, whispering how much he loves you, wishing he could take away all your stress.

college bf!mingyu who would be the one to listen to all your talks about being uncertain about the future and being scared because what if you failed? he'll listen to you keenly as you lay in his arms, protected from the world. he'll tell you how great you were doing and how proud he was of you. he'll tell you that even if you failed, he was going to be here to pick you back up and that he was always going to be there for you.

taglist: @paindivinemp3 @naaaaafla @weird-bookworm @blue-jisungs @icyminghao

@wootify @idubiluv @joshuaahong @fallingforshua29 @n4mj00nvq

@itsveronicaxxx @ihrtboo @frankenstein852 @lvlystars @mirxzii @aaniag

[gay-dorito-dust]

hi hiii its my first time ever asking anyone idk how this works ( ;｀Д´)

i rlly love your writing, i often find myself staying up late reading through your blogs!! funny bcs u were the one who got me into jason todd (ФωФ)

anyways!!! i was hoping you could pls pls pls pls plssssss write smth about Jason Todd who has a lover thats a sleep-deprived uni student having a hell week and jason is like "bitch put google docs down and get some sleep, ur ass has been awake for 48 hours" all worried and wanting them to rest and reader is like "correction, 50 hours."

i hope it makes sense (´ 3｀)

tyyyyy!!! woopee woopee

Sorry this took so long to get to anon, I hope you liked it either way. And don’t stay up too late reading fics but I truly appreciate you reading my stuff, I’m glad you like them 🦦🐿️

A week.

An entire week Jason had noticed you have been forcing yourself to stay up at the dead of night, glued to your laptop all the while chugging energy drinks and cups of coffee as though they were going out of style, and for what? An assignment that determined your future at uni should you not get straight marks.

Jason thought it ridiculous that you made yourself sleep deprived over this but he knew that if he didn’t do anything about it, then you’ll continue this habit until you were well out of university, struggling to come to terms that you had well and truly burnt yourself out before you could properly start living.

So when Jason couldn’t fell you next to him in bed one night, like you promised him you would, and groaned as he got himself out of bed before making his way towards the kitchen where he’d knew you’d be.

‘What time do you call this?’ Jason asked when he saw you in your usual spot at the kitchen counter, hunched over your laptop with a thin blanket frapped over your shoulders and a can of energy drink on one side of the laptop and a cup of coffee on the other side. He hated what this stupid university has made you do just in order to get good grades, it was harmful, damaging and it would inevitably lead to health complications later on in life; If he could Jason would more then gladly march down there and threaten the professors to stop shoving a boatload of work onto their students, but firstly he has to get you away from that damn laptop and learn how to take a fucking break.

‘Mid-afternoon?’ You asked, not looking up from the bright screen of your laptop, where the words scrawled across it in an incoherent mess for your overworked brain to comprehend.

‘It’s actually 3:30 in the morning.’ Jason replied unamused as he crossed his arms over his chest and you winced when you saw that he was indeed right about it being three thirty in the morning. ‘Don’t you think it’s time that you shut the laptop off and get some sleep?’

‘But I-‘

‘Actually sleep.’ Jason cuts you off as you slumped back into your chair, unable to come up with a decent enough response to defend yourself with because deep down you knew Jason was right, you’ve hadn’t had a decent sleep in a long while and it was definitely taking it’s toll with how lightheaded you’ve become as of late.

You sighed and ran your hands down your face. ‘Jason I can’t, I’ve got-‘

‘An assignment to complete for tomorrow I know.’ Jason cuts you off again as he crossed the room to put his hand over the top of your coffee cup upon noticing that you were intending to take another drink from it. ‘But I look at you and can tell you can barely keep your eyes open for more than five minutes.’ He adds and upon your silence, he puts the cup aside as far as he could before doing the same with the half empty energy drink, and then finally shutting the laptop close despite your weak protests for him not to.

‘No, Jason my assignment, I need to finish it.’ You told him with slow, sluggish movements as you tried to pry his hand off of your laptop, all the while biting back a yawn. ‘Just give me five more minutes please and I’ll come to bed, promise.’

Jason had enough of this habit of sleepless nights, it ends now, the professors will have to understand and extend the due date for your sake as he remembered how often you had harped on about how important this assignment was for your overall grade; However Jason didn’t take neglecting your bodily needs lightly and would prioritise that over anything else,you could hate him all you wanted but he was only looking out for you and your wellbeing.

‘Sorry chipmunk but I can’t watch you do this to yourself for any longer than I already have.’ Was all Jason said as he then lifted you out of your chair suddenly causing you to yelp in surprise and cling onto him for dear life, now being more awake then you ever have been five minutes ago, as he then proceeded to carry you back towards the bedroom before unceremoniously dropping you onto the bed.

‘Jason, I seriously needed to get that assignment-‘

‘We are going to sleep, end of discussion.’ Jason said with finality as he crawled under the covers and quickly held you against his chest as tightly as he could, rubbing his hands up and down your back soothingly. ‘I know how important this assignment was for you sweetheart but I’d much rather have you well rested, clear minded and healthy than to ever to have you pass out in my arms from exhaustion. I want my baby happy and healthy and you are neither of those things right now.’ Jason whispers into your ear, kissing the side of your head a couple of times before resting his forehead against yours so that he was looking into your weary half lidded eyes.

‘Look at you, you can barely keep your eyes open.’ He spoke with worry laced in his words.

‘You’re really warm and comfy jay birdie.’ You murmured, feeling the need for sleep grow ever stronger the longer you stayed in his arms as it fogged your mind.

‘I know, so please we can talk to the professor in the morning and sort something out, but until then no more late nights understand?’ Jason said firmly as he held you a little tighter, he just wanted you to get a decent nights sleep and be looked after properly but all these late nights weren’t cutting it and were making your situation worse, how were you meant to get anything done when you were half out of it due to overworking and lack of a sleep schedule? Were the professors at your university thinking they were teaching robots instead of humans with breaking limits?

‘Okay I understand, I love you.’ You replied sleepily as you burrowed your head into his neck, falling asleep in record time as Jason stayed awake a little longer as to make sure you were properly asleep before following suit, watching over you in the dream realm as he did the waking one.

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me — Part Four — Azriel x Reader

Summary: It’s Solstice! Reader decides she should probably be honest with Azriel about some stuff. Things don’t quite go to plan.

Oof. Okay. This could be uncomfortable reading for some. There are some hints and depictions of domestic abuse and also of alcoholism, so if that’s something that might trigger you, please, please do not read this. The last thing I want is for my writing to be harmful to anybody. Read with caution. Take care and put yourself first. Lots of love.

Also, please don’t hate me for this 😭we know I’m a hoe for angst and it wouldn’t be one of my fics if there wasn’t some sprinkled in there lmao.

Word Count: 5k.

Warnings: Depiction of abusive behaviour. Heavy drinking. Some violence.

On a brisk winter morning, when the sun hasn’t yet graced the sky, the last place you wish to be is at the Windhaven crèche, watching over a group of tired, grouchy younglings. Every second thought that passes through your mind is a longing one, lamenting on how desperately you wish to be back in your bed.

But alas, you owe your friend, Vegha, a favour, making you the sole minder of ten restless little girls, all annoyed that their brothers get to join their fathers for training, while they have to stay back and be…girls. A downfall, according to most Illyrian males.

You’re supposed to be watching over them for a couple of hours while Vegha runs an errand. And that time is going very, very slowly.

You’re in the middle of reading a storybook — and, yes, doing all the voices — when the door opens behind you. You feel a glimmer of hope that perhaps Vegha is back earlier than planned, but when you swivel on the child-sized chair you’ve perched yourself on, it’s Azriel who looms in the doorway.

And you…your heart does a silly little thing in your chest.

“Don’t let me interrupt.” He says. “I can wait.”

Your eyebrows flick up in amusement. “Come take a seat, then. It’s story time.”

His lips twitch, and he goes to reach for one of those infant chairs — which you’re not at all sure can handle all his muscle — but this sparks a flurry of complaints from the girls, who all insist that they want to sit with Azriel the most, and within seconds, he’s cross-legged on the floor with the children somehow managing to settle around him without bickering, and they’re all able to command his attention at once.

Happy mediums, and all that.

Your gaze lingers on him as he does all the right things; leaning his head down so he can appear less…huge, while listening with rapt attention to one of the girl’s chattering; steadying another one as they climb over him to get themselves seated; gently telling them all that they have to be quiet if they want to hear the rest of the story. That, of course, achieves immediate near silence.

And thus begins an entire performance of you continuing the tale, and the girls — and Azriel — responding in all the right places. They howl when they’re supposed to make the sound of a wolf, and roar when it’s a mountain cat, and you don’t miss that Azriel helps the tiniest of the girls to remember which animals make what sounds.

Most males in this gods-forsaken place are an intimidating presence to these children, frightening them into silence whenever they’re around, because girls are supposed to be seen and not heard. But Azriel is always gentle, always kind, and they adore him for it.

It’s a combination of all these things that force you to face a truth that’s been rapidly snowballing inside your mind and heart for the past four days — something has changed. Shifted. Has been shifting and changing for a while.

You laid awake for hours that night in the dormitory, listening to Azriel’s breathing as he slept deeply, happily sated from the pleasure you’d given him. Your mind had been too much of a war zone for you to drift off.

Nine years, you’ve called this male your closest friend. Ever since the very first day you’d met him, when a group of males had pushed you to the floor and kicked mud at you, and he’d jumped in and defended you for no other reason than that he’s good to the bone. Nine years, you’ve been by each other’s sides, and it’s been comfortable and familiar and just…right.

But now — now, you think you may have jeopardised that all by going along with Azriel’s request for help. Help with kissing. Touching. Experiencing.

You’ll always want to help him in any way that you can, of course. But you didn’t quite anticipate the predicament you now find yourself in. That you want all of those things and more, not just under the ruse of building your friend’s confidence. You want to explore more with him, feel more with him. You’ve been able to think about nothing else for days.

And it might make you a total wretch, but you want Kaeda to be a distant memory. The thought of Azriel taking what you’ve shown him, shared with him, and putting his all into somebody else…it sours your stomach. Makes you feel sick.

Makes your heart hurt.

And, well, you’re fucked, really.

It’s a kind of hurt that won’t go away on its own. It isn’t avoidable nor ignorable. And so your only option is to confront it, be honest about it. Whatever the outcome may be.

The story comes to an end, and the girls are calmed and sleepy enough that they look ready to curl up on the floor and doze off. Azriel peels himself away from the cluster of clingy children and stands up, strolling over to you.

“Well that was fun.” He comments quietly, taking the book from your hands. “Who knew I was so adept at doing animal impressions?”

“One of your many talents, I suppose.” You smile, drinking in the sight of him. He looks tired this morning. Tired, but beautiful. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

His expression sobers slightly, and he tells you, “We’re leaving this morning. For the training exercise.”

Immediately, your stomach churns. Being away from your friends sets you on edge. Windhaven is a lonely, lonely place to be without the love of Rhys, Cassian and Azriel to warm you. And not even Rhys’s mother is here to make it a little more bearable.

Az immediately recognises the bleakness that passes your face. He steps closer, his hand a gentle brush against yours. “I’ll be back for Solstice.” He reminds you yet again.

“I know.” You attempt to force an easy, breezing smile. “What’s the plan for Solstice, anyway?”

Normally, Rhysand’s mother would cook a meal in the cottage. You wouldn’t be able to attend, given that you’re always stuck at home with your father, but by the time he would pass out drunk, you’d sneak out and make it to the cottage just as the games were starting. Some of your happiest memories are of being curled up on one couch with Az, Rhys and his mother on the other, and Cassian stood in front of you, making a terrible attempt at playing charades.

But it’ll be different this year. With the High Lord keeping a tight leash on his pregnant mate in Velaris, there will be no meal, no charades. You, Azriel and Cassian would most certainly not be welcome at their intimate family celebration.

“Rhys will spend the day in Velaris.” Az tells you. “Cass and I will be getting drunk. There’s a celebration being held at the dormitories in the evening, so I suppose we’ll all end up there.”

You dip your chin. “I’ll come and find you there, then.”

His responding smile is a gentle one; one that says he sees right through you, right through to the panic that’s eating away at you, and he understands.

There’s no way he sees everything that you’re feeling, though. Perhaps that’s a good thing.

Your body goes slightly rigid as he dips down and presses a kiss to your forehead. His hand squeezes yours, and then he’s pulling away. “See you on Solstice.”

He bids a quiet goodbye to the dozing girls. It’s as he’s heading for the door that you find yourself stepping after him. “…Az?”

He turns, hand on the doorknob. “Yes?”

“There’s…something I need to talk to you about, when you get back. Something I need to tell you.”

Okay. Shit. You’re really doing this.

Azriel’s eyes rake over you, and then he smiles. “We’ll talk on Solstice.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Your head’s not all there today, as you stare out of the window of your father’s forge. Azriel and the others have been gone almost a week, and you’ve spent every one of those days thinking about how you’re going to tell him…whatever it is you’re going to tell him.

You’re not even certain, yourself.

Just that…that things are different. That you know, to begin with, that this was about him and Kaeda — but it’s shifted in your brain at an alarming rate, and now that you’ve shared something so…so meaningful, with him, you’re not sure you can go on acting as though it was all just a favour.

Yeah. That should do it.

And it’s a huge fucking risk, of course. There’s every chance he won’t return the sentiment, and then a giant wedge of unresolved feelings will exist between you.

But you need to — perhaps selfishly — confront this before things between him and Kaeda progress. In case there’s a slight chance that it’ll alter the path it’s heading down.

And you haven’t thought any further than that.

The snow has started again, and you watch the flurries sweep past the window and join the thick layer on the ground. You’ve become so accustomed to the noise of the forge that you hardly notice it anymore — not the constant clanking, nor the heat that the fires swathe the shop in. You used to beg your father to teach you his craft, to allow you to get stuck in and get your hands dirty, but he’s always stubbornly maintained that it’s a male’s job, and that he needs you for the bookkeeping. You’re surprised he trusts you with that.

You breathe a soft sigh, your thoughts once again flitting back to Az. To what he might be doing, thinking, feeling. Whether he misses you as much as you miss him.

But before those thoughts can take a hold of you and sink you deeper into your predicament, the door opens, the bell above it ringing and a gust of cold air momentarily biting you.

It’s rare for females to come to the forge. Very rare, indeed. Which is why, for a second or two, you just stare.

That — and because she’s incredibly beautiful.

Her eyes — the colour of emeralds — sweep the workshop, before landing on you, and she smiles. She has the telltale tanned skin of an Illyrian, but instead of the dark hair that’s so typical around here, hers is red — not orange, not auburn, but blood red. You’ve never seen a shade quite like it.

And if that’s not enough to completely bowl you over, your gaze rakes over her clothing, and you stop, stunned.

Females around here wear homespun dresses of simple brown shades. A few, like yourself, favour basic tunics and breeches. Clothing is just a necessity, not something you lend much thought to.

But this female wears Illyrian leathers. Never, in your life, have you seen females wear Illyrian leathers. It’s simply not a done thing.

But she looks resplendent in them.

They cling to supple curves and accentuate a figure that you don’t think you’d ever be able to achieve with any amount of training. And perhaps the most shocking thing of all — and the most enviable — is the presence of brilliant, beautiful wings at her back. Unclipped. Untouched. Unruined.

How your wings might have one day looked, had your father not destroyed them.

You’re not entirely convinced that an angel hasn’t just stepped into your father’s forge. Or perhaps this is the Mother that everyone worships. Part of you wants to worship her, too, and beg her to bestow upon you her blessings—

You snap yourself out of it before you can fall head-over-heels in love with her. She’s just a customer.

A very, very beautiful customer.

“Good day to you.” She says, approaching the counter. Her voice is like pure music.

You incline your head in greeting. “And to you. Is there something I can help you with?”

“I’m interested in having some gifts made for my father and brothers. For Solstice.”

Once again, you’re gawking.

Another thing that’s unheard of; females liking their family members enough to have gifts made for them.

You clear your throat, blinking out of your thoughts. “What…what kind of things were you looking for?”

“Personalised daggers.” She answers, and then she grins in a way that makes you want to tell her your life story, and leans closer. “A male can never have too many daggers, right?”

You breathe a laugh. It doesn’t sound natural. “Absolutely.”

“I’ll be needing three. One for my father, and one each for my two brothers. Can that be done in time for Solstice? I can pay extra…”

This female has beauty, leathers, wings, a relationship with her family members, money. She’s magnificent. A few exchanged words, and you’re awed by her.

Who is she? How have you never seen her before?

“It can be done.” You tell her with a flustered smile. “I’ll just need to sit with you and get some details of exactly what you want made, and then my father will get straight to it. I imagine they’ll be ready for collection by Solstice Eve.”

Her eyes light up in a way that reminds you of sunrise. “That’s perfect.”

There’s a second or two where you just…can’t help staring. Her beauty has knocked you speechless.

But once again, you snap yourself out of it and try to retain some semblance of professionalism.

“Can I take your name down?” You say, and clear your throat again. Gods, you hope you’re not blushing. “For the order.”

You grab a piece of parchment and a pen, hoping you’ll remember how the fuck to write.

“It’s Kaeda.” She says, and the pen nearly slips from your hand. “Kaeda Baralas.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Solstice morning sweeps in just as abruptly as the fresh onslaught of snow that once again batters the camp.

It’s going to be a rough one. You can feel it in your bones.

You dread it every year, but this year is made even worse by the constant stream of thoughts that have been plaguing you over the last week. About whether telling Az about your feelings is a good idea. Not just because of what it could do to your friendship, but because…

Because you can’t deny that since seeing Kaeda in the flesh, you’re doubting yourself more than ever.

Of course, you can see why Azriel would want her. And why he’d want to be good and experienced for her. And you…you’ve been facilitating that. You’re the practice dummy. Kaeda is the real thing.

At least the chaos of Solstice keeps you busy.

You wake early, and from the noise and foot traffic outside your bedroom window, you know Az’s unit has safely returned from their training exercise. Your relief is short-lived, replaced by the dread of your father hitting the bottle.

Every year is the same. You spend the day trying to focus on your preparation of the huge meal you’re expected to cook, while your father knocks back drink after drink and gradually gets rowdier. You tell yourself that the more he drinks, the better — he’ll fall asleep eventually, and you’ll be out of here.

But then the front door bursts open.

It’s four of your father’s friends who pile into your cramped home, singing at the tops of their voices and reeking of booze. You’re only just able to stop one of them knocking a pot of potatoes off the counter with a careless, wayward wing. They barely acknowledge you, filing through to the sitting room to greet your father. Their voices get louder, and an ache is building behind your eye.

Day bleeds into late afternoon. You try to ignore them, to focus on the task at hand. Cooking is usually enjoyable for you, but with an unwelcome party happening in the next room, you find yourself getting more and more stressed.

By the time your father bustles his way into the kitchen and begins sniffing around the food, you’re close to losing it.

“Isn’t it ready yet?” Your father rudely demands.

You stare out of the kitchen window, at the dwindling light of approaching evening, clenching your jaw. “It is. I’m waiting for your friends to leave.”

“They’ll be eating with us.”

You whirl on the spot. “We don’t have enough food for that.”

“I told you we’d have guests.”

No, he absolutely hadn’t. This is a power play. He does shit like this all the time. Backs you into corners.

“I bought food for two people.” You snap, unable to stop yourself. “Not six.”

Your father’s nostrils flare. You know that look on his face a little too well — the one where his cheeks redden and his eyes turn cold. It’s always, always made your stomach lurch.

He steps closer, and you press your back against the counter, trying your utmost not to look intimidated.

“You’d better rectify that, hadn’t you?” His tone is deceptively gentle. “Be a good girl and find a way to make the food go around six people. You wouldn’t want to ruin Solstice.”

It’s a veiled threat. One you’d be wise not to ignore.

So you stare at him and he stares at you. And when he eventually nods and leaves the room, you turn and try to work out how to make a meal for two a meal for six.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The mountain of a male beside you jostles your chair so violently that you almost fall out of it.

His hand grabs a roast potato from your plate. He shoves it into his mouth, chews, and grins. “You weren’t going to eat that, were you?”

The entire meal has been like this.

Perhaps it’s your ice-thin temper that has you staring him right in the eye; a thing many Illyrian males consider a great disrespect from females. “Would it matter if I was?”

He swallows and swipes the lone, remaining potato you hadn’t planned to touch. “Not really, no.”

The dinner is usually the only part you enjoy of Solstice. A meal that you spend hours perfecting, of slow-cooked meat and roasted potatoes and a colourful array of different vegetables that are cooked to perfection. It’s the one part of the day where you can just sit and breathe, because even your father doesn’t usually have a bad word to say about the meal you’ve presented.

This one has been pure, unadulterated hell. 

To accommodate your unwanted guests, you’ve skimped on your own food, barely affording yourself a couple of mouthfuls. Wine and ale has been spilled across the table, and the conversation around it has only grown more and more uncomfortable — and vile — as the night has worn on. You want nothing more than to get out of here and find your friends, but your father and his cronies show no signs of slowing down. 

You sit, staring emptily at the plates, the little remaining morsels of the meal you spent all day cooking. You try to block out the laughter and jeering, the disgusting comments, the blatant disrespect, but it’s all getting to you, riling you up. You’re not sure how long you’ll last without snapping.

Your answer comes when your father looks at you. And he snaps his fucking fingers at the finished plates. 

“Clear this up, Y/N.” He says. 

You know your father. You know what he can be like, the damage he can do. Your ruined back is evidence enough. And you know the wisest and safest thing is for you to comply and rant about him to your friends later.

But you’re far beyond that point.

You meet his gaze, and your jaw ticks as you shoot back, “Why don’t you clear it up yourself?”

You regret it the second the room falls deathly silent. All the noise is gone in an instant. Every face is looking your way.

But it’s your father’s face you’re concerned with.  The expression that tells you you’ve made a grave, grave mistake. 

“What was that?” His voice is quiet. Too quiet.

You look away. Wish you could cram the words back down your throat. “Nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing.” The male beside you sneers. “You speak to your father like that, girl? If you were my child, I’d string you up by the remains of those wings you never should have been born with.”

“I’d do a lot worse than that.” Another one remarks, a sickening laugh in his voice.

Throughout it all, your father is staring at you. Saying nothing.

“Did it hurt, anyway? Having them ripped off like that? I bet it did. I hope it did.”

Your final straw is when the pig at your side has the audacity to reach around and touch your back. You tense immediately, and you’re shooting up from your chair, knocking it over as you do.

“Don’t ever lay a finger on me again.” You will your voice to be stronger, firmer, but it won’t comply. You shake as you gather the plates up in your hand. “I’m cleaning this up.”

That’s met with a chorus of laughter, a pelting of comments. You tell yourself to block it out, block it the fuck out, balance as much as you reasonably can in your hands and book it into the kitchen. You dump the plates onto the counter and grip onto the sink basin, trying to draw in deep, slow breaths.

But then there are footsteps behind you. And the kitchen door closes. And you know that’s not good.

“Y/N.” 

Your eyes shutter. You release one of those useless breaths before you dare to turn and face your father. 

And when you do, his face is…soft. Eyes filled with concern.

But you’re not stupid enough to buy it. 

You’re taut as a bowstring as he approaches you, stopping inches away. He drinks in the sight of you, tilting his head. You wait for him to tell you that you look just like your mother — a fact that only contributes to his vitriol. As if it’s your fault that she abandoned him, abandoned both of you. 

He thinks it is.

His hand touches your cheek, his thumb sweeping the skin there. You swallow, hoping he can’t feel the way you tremble beneath him. 

“What’s gotten into you, my girl?” He asks quietly. “What did I say about not ruining Solstice?”

You swallow. Lower your gaze. “I thought it would just be the two of us.”

“Do I not have the right to invite my friends into my home?”

“I’m just saying that a little bit of warning would have been appreciated. I didn’t spend hours cooking a meal just for your friends to come along and ruin it.”

“Your attitude has become insufferable. Perhaps it’s those three males you’ve been spreading your legs for. Giving you too much of an ego boost.”

You almost want to laugh in his face — laugh at his cluelessness. But your anger wins. Maybe you’re more like him than you ever thought.

“Or perhaps, father,” you snap, “it’s an accumulation of anger and desperation after twenty years of living with a repulsive, sanctimonious—”

He strikes you so hard that for a moment, you’re simply stunned as to why you’re suddenly on the floor. But the thwack of his hit rings in your ears, echoes through the kitchen. 

And then the metallic taste of blood is coating the inside of your mouth. It’s streaming down your chin, and you’re not even sure where it’s all coming from, only that it hurts and your eyes are stinging. 

Your father stares down at you. And in that moment, you realise that the eeriest thing of all is that he never glares at you. You think you’d prefer that.

He always stares with that emptiness. That icy vacancy. It makes his actions more unpredictable, more dangerous. 

He lunges down so suddenly that you flinch, yanking you up by the front of your shirt. Your legs don’t want to comply as he shoves you towards the door.

“Get the fuck out of my house.” He hisses at you, ripping the door open. “Go on. Fuck off, just like your mother did.”

And then he’s shoving you into the snow, a plume of it erupting around you. You hardly notice the cold. You’re too stunned.

Not stunned enough, though, to refrain from biting back at him. Just like a threatened animal would. 

“Fuck you.” You sneer, the words contorted by a mouthful of blood that you spit onto the snow. “Fuck you, father.”

The bastard laughs in your face. Just as he’s always laughed in your face. And then he kicks snow at you because he can and steps back into the house.

When the door shuts behind him, you push to your feet. You’re trembling all over. It might be the cold. It might be the shock.

There’s only one person you want to see right now. So you wrap your arms around yourself and head towards the dormitories.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Halfway through trudging across the camp, your shoes sodden with snow, your lip still bleeding, the emotions begin to hit.

You resent them. You resent feeling anything at all towards the male who is your only blood relative in this hollow, hollow place. The one who took your wings. The one who has tried to keep a firm grasp on the control he has over your life.

But you do feel things. Hurt and rage and humiliation and — bizarrely — betrayal. As if some small slither of hope had followed you from childhood into adulthood — that your father would one day miraculously awaken as a different person. A family member worth holding onto.

He never would.

No, your true family has always been the small, loving group that crams themselves into a cottage across the camp; a place of warmth and welcoming.

Rhysand and Cassian and Azriel. Rhysand’s mother, too. They are your family. They have always cared, since the moment you met them.

It’s for that reason that you persevere with your walk, even though you’re frozen to the bone. You think you might be crying. You’re not too sure anymore. Your friends will make it better. They always make it better.

The dormitories glow in the distance; a welcome sight, for once. You kick through the snow with desperation, and you’re definitely crying, definitely shaking all over, but the sounds of the celebrations coming from inside are a relief. Playful jeering and someone strumming a lute and off-kilter singing.

You push your way through the door. Inside is as crowded as you expect it to be, but you don’t even care. Anywhere is better than at home.

Your eyes — not really taking in much at all — scan the corridors, the common area, looking for any of your three closest friends. You see none of them, but a hand lands on your shoulder, and you turn to find Vegha there. Her eyes widen immediately at the state of you. You dread to think how bad you look.

“Y/N, what the fuck?” She blurts. “Why are you bleeding?”

“Fell over.” You know how stupid it sounds. “I…I need to find Azriel. Have you seen him?”

“Oh, I think he skulked off to his room a little while ago. Everyone knows he hates big parties like this—”

Perfect. You’ll hole up in his room together and block the rest of the world out. You’re already turning and pushing through people. You’ll apologise to Vegha for your rudeness later. Right now, you just need Azriel’s comfort, his love. The conversation you planned to have with him tonight is now a distant memory, an issue to confront later. You just…just want him. He always makes everything better.

You don’t notice the drink that gets spilled on you, or the disgruntled groups of people you have to shove through. None of that matters. Azriel is your family. He matters.

Finally, you make it to his room. The soft glow of faelights shine beneath the door — an indication he’s inside. You almost sob with relief as you grab the handle and burst in.

Two faces immediately look round at you.

Azriel’s.

Kaeda’s.

Kaeda lies on top of him, hands either side of his head. Her lips are swollen and inches from his. Azriel is palming at her waist, holding her against him. They’re both fully clothed, but…but you get the sense they wouldn’t have been for much longer, had it not been for your interruption.

Azriel drinks in the sight of you, his chest heaving. He blinks. You…you’re rooted to the spot.

And you fucking wince as Kaeda sits up slightly. Az’s hands fall back to his sides.

The beautiful female eyes you, tilting her head. And you want to get out of there, to fucking run, but you can’t do anything but stand and blink as something shatters inside of you.

“The shop hand from the forge.” Kaeda states in surprise, as if it’s ludicrous to consider that you might sometimes venture outside of your father’s workshop. “What happened to your face?”

Azriel is finally springing into action, then, sitting up and scooting out from beneath Kaeda. “Y/N…”

You cannot bear the gentleness of his voice. It may just finish you off.

All of this might. Staying here a second longer might.

So you, for some reason, shake your head and back slowly out of the room. Azriel lurches up, but you’re grabbing hold of the door handle firmly.

“Sorry for interrupting.” Your voice is all wrong and fractured. You quickly shut the door before it can morph into a sob.

You think Azriel might call after you, but it’s probably wishful thinking. You don’t know. Don’t know anything. Don’t know what to do next.

So you simply walk away.

You suppose you’ve taught Azriel everything he needs to know.

azriel tag list: @hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere @audie-writes @aaronwarnerswifereal @starxqt @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden @jjlevin @smitty-werbenjagermenjenson @spikertrash @kindagoldylocks @barbiezambie @kht1998 @soupghoul @nyctophiliawitch @gracie1234567891011 @gaymistakeboi @luvmxo @rinalouu @microwaveallthedemons @starlightshowdown

[citricacidprince]

...Mable stuck with bill timestuck, you say? I wonder if that would go better or worse than dipper being alone with bill.

Here to mention that I somehow only noticed your signature when it was next to fiddleford, and thought you were (rightly) calling him a prince. It took an embarrassingly long time for me to connect the dots.

Haha you’re not the first person to mistake my signature for actual writing so dw you’re good lol!

And as for my thoughts of Mabel and Bill in a Timestuck AU,,,

I may or may not have written a drabble in a mutuals DMs a few years back about a confrontation between Mabel and Bill and the aftermath of it! I also may or may not have just fixed it up and straight up doubled the word count haha-

Since I’m feeling a tad bit brave I’m gonna post the drabble under the cut for anyone to read along with two doodles I’ve done for it, I only ask that yall be nice to me since I don’t write very often and know I ain’t that good at it hehe-

Also I’m not lying this is like,,, 4707 words… I got possessed to write this haha

Before I begin!!! Important!!!

Trigger Warnings: Choking/Asphyxiation, harm to children, minor descriptions of small cuts and minuscule amounts of blood, verbal planning of commiting a murder/killing

(if I missed any please tell me!)

With that out of the way here's my stupidly long Timestuck AU drabble that's been on my back burner for years! The only thing you really need to know is that the twins time-traveled back after Weirdmagenddon of their own volition. Dipper is with Stan and Mabel is with Ford and Fiddleford. Mabel has been staying with the two for almost a month now and Fiddleford is the only one who knows she's a time traveler.

With the stage set, please enjoy!

💫—————————————🚩

It’s late into the night, Mabel is tossing and turning and can't go to sleep. Her mind is spiraling as she overthinks and worries about Bill, her brother, her Grunkles, everything. So at about 1AM she decides that she’s not going to bed anytime soon and gets up off the living room couch which she has called her new bed while staying with her younger Grunkle Ford and Fiddleford.

Despite it being the dead of night Mabel thought it’d be a good idea to just make something food related in hopes it would tire her out. Also, she figured it would be a fun idea since she knows Stanford is most likely still awake and probably hasn’t eaten in a while. She could make him something easy and sweet, like a batch of cookies, and give them to him as a gift! Who doesn’t like 1AM cookies?! If she doesn’t have the stuff to make that, eh, she’ll figure it out and make something else!

A bonus to this is that if Ford says he’s not hungry, a bold faced lie, she’d use her sweetest and biggest puppy eyes until he ate some. Maybe she could even convince him to go to bed and not stay up till 4AM!

The brunette starts making a batch of cookies in the cover of night, making sure to have plenty enough for Fidd's in the morning, and putting her entire heart and all her worries into the mix in hopes the oven would ease away the stress weighing down her mind.

Sure it took a while, but it would totally be worth it to see her young Grunkle's face light up in shock at the sight of a warm batch of cookies shoved into his face and getting crumbs on his nerdy notes!

Right as she was finishing up wrapping up three separate plates worth of cookies in a napkin with a pretty little bow, for the ✨aesthetic✨ she happily told herself, she hears a pair of heavy boots walk into the kitchen.

The voice of her, now young, Grunkle Ford calls out her name in the quiet kitchen. Just as she had expected, he was awake.

Before the excited brunette could whirl around and surprise Ford with the 1-2 AM batch of cookies she lovingly went and made by hand, his low voice rumbled out, “Could you grab me a mug? One from the cabinet.”

He sounded a little funny, like he just woke up. Mabel smiled as she could already picture Stanford’s bleary and tired face as he goes to make a cup of coffee with the mug he’s asking for. She lets out a small sound of exertion as she pushes herself onto the counter since she’s too short to reach the cabinets otherwise and gingerly opens the cabinet so it doesn’t squeak and pulls out a mug. Based on the small cracks and worn paint on the ceramic it seemed a tad old, the faded words of ‘Backupsmore 1973’ barely legible.

Just as Mabel turns around, about to lightly scold her young Great Uncle for drinking coffee at 2 AM instead of getting some rest, a large hand wraps around her little neck. She didn’t even have a chance to scream as she’s suddenly slammed into the now closed cabinet, the air knocked out of her lungs and her head spinning from the impact, a loud sound of ceramic shattering on the wooden floor echoing through the kitchen and Mabel’s ringing ears

A fearful confusion consumes her mind as she, unsure of what’s happening in her dazed state until she catches a glimpse of Stanford. Gone were the warm brown eyes she’s grown accustomed to, in their place were the sickly yellow slit eyes of a monster she knew all to well.

Bill Cipher.

“Shooting Star, there you are! I think you're getting a tad too comfortable around here! Let's fix that!"

Malice built in her throat as she spat out, her brows furrowed and her brown eyes glaring down his yellow ones, “Bill! You-”

“Ah, so you do know me! I assumed so, but wasn’t quite sure!”

The six fingered hand around her neck pressed a tad harder against the wooden cabinet behind her, making her wince from the pressure.

“Here’s the deal, Shooting Star, you’re being a massive thorn in my side.”

Her back was already aching from the impact of her getting slammed against the cabinet.

“Making Sixer second guess his trust in me with your insufferable kindness and child-like whimsy.”

Her sock-covered feet were slipping and sliding on the wooden countertop, legs uncontrollably trembling as her fingers gripped at Stanford’s large forearm in hopes of steadying herself.

“It was amusing at first but now it’s just annoying. So I need you,”

His hand tightened even more, making Mabel let out a sharp hiss of pain.

“Out of the picture.”

Mabel’s feet no longer are touching the countertop as Bill suddenly pulls her away from the cabinet, easily dangling her little body in the air and effectively hanging her. Panic instantly shoots through her and tears well up in her eyes as her airway is suddenly completely cut off, her little hands grabbing and clawing at her possessed great uncle’s forearm while her legs wildly kick at the air, too short to even graze against Bill’s chest.

Bill’s free hand raises up and idly taps his chin, as his musing over something indecisively, an wide and uncanny grin stretched across the possessed scientist’s face as he loudly questions, “Hmmm… how about… throwing you in the lake! If the water doesn’t kill you the cold air will!”

Mabel started to thrash around even harder, her heart pounding in her chest as fear coursed through every nerve in her body, her flight response in full gear as she tried over and over again to get out of Bill’s grip with no avail.

“Oooh! Or I could just tie you up and bury you in the snow! I hear frostbite is real killer these days!”

Blood was rushing to her ears; she could barely hear a word he was saying. All she could focus on was the panic bubbling in her chest and adrenaline pumping in her veins, screaming at her that she didn’t want to die.

It didn’t take long before her vision began to blur, her clawing hands and kicking feet getting more and more numb and slow with each passing seconds. She could faintly hear Bill say something about ‘throwing’, ‘roof’, and ‘classic!’ before she could feel herself almost completely clock out, vision fluttering in and out as her hand weakly claws at his arm one last time.

Just as she was about to give up completely, the polydactyl hand around her neck suddenly let go, sending Mabel unceremoniously crashing to the floor. She let in a large gasp of air, coughing her lungs out as air desperately tried to fill them once more. The brunette doesn’t even care about the small shards of broken ceramic cutting into her hands or shins, she was trying to make sure she didn’t accidentally start hyperventilating as drool and tears drip from her face to the floor with every sharp breath.

Mabel, disoriented and dazed, manages to glance up through strands of her long and curly brunette hair to see Ford still standing there with those disgusting yellow eyes, which were now staring off to space with annoyance clearly visible in his gaze.

"Geez Sixer, you chose the worst time to want your body back to 'test a new theory' huh?" He quietly mumbles under his breath, looking upset that his fun was being rudely ripped away from him.

Suddenly he stares down at Mabel, who was clutching her throat and panting heavily, brown eyes unable to stop crying. Despite this, despite all the pain and numbness that ran through her, she still found it in her to glare at the dream demon with as much animosity as she could muster while surrounded by ceramic shards and small prickles of blood.

"Well… we’ll just have to pick this up another time, won't we Shooting Star?"

The possessed body of Stanford Pines strolls towards the archway leading out of the kitchen, however before he leaves completely, he stops and whirls around with that same twisted smile Mabel vividly remembers seeing on her possessed brother’s face just a few months ago. "Oh, Shooting Star? Would you be a doll and clean up this mess? Wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt now, would we?"

And with one final cackle he left, making his way back downstairs to Stanford’s study, presumably to make it appear like he never left in the eyes of the oblivious scientist, leaving the little brunet alone on the floor to lightly grip her neck, wincing at the bruise that's bound to appear the next day.

She stayed there silently for what felt like hours but was only just a couple minutes, the adrenaline coursing through her veins slowly but surely fading away as the feeling finally came back to her numb fingers and toes, relieved that she isn’t hyperventilating anymore and she can actually breathe.

She eased herself off the cold wooden floor, her little body trembling the entire time.

Despite the feeling of spite coursing through her veins for that awful dream demon, he was right…, she really didn’t want anyone to get hurt… So instead of immediately going to fix herself up she spent the next 10 minutes sweeping up the broken mug and getting all the broken shards of ceramic into the trash.

Curse her and her big heart…!

When she was done it was about 2 AM, and it was now officially time to check the damage.

Before she left the kitchen she made sure to put the plates of cookies into the fridge.

She didn’t really feel hungry anymore.

With a couple of winces and hisses of pain she managed to tip toe herself up the stairs and to the bathroom, making sure she didn’t accidentally wake up Fiddleford by stepping on a loose plank or opening the door too loud. Once inside she gingerly pulls out the old timey medkit from under the sink and sits on the floor.

Well, technically the medkit was modern since it was the 80s…

Wah, Mabel! Not the time!

With a deep breath she gingerly treats the tiny cuts gracing her hands and shins, trying not to cry as she disinfects each cut just like Grunkle Ford taught her to at the end of the summer, plucking out mini pieces of ceramic embedded in her skin with a pair of tweezer like how her Grunkle Stan had taught her at the beginning of the summer (note from her past self, splinters are never fun).

Cleaning and applying band-aids to the cuts was the easy part, most of the bandages would be hidden under her sweater and the winter pants Fiddleford had gifted her during her first couple days staying at the shack.

It was her neck that was going to be hard to hide.

Mabel stood up and got on a step stool to look into the minor, immediately wincing at the sight of her bare neck, dark purple was already creeping in and bruising every bit of her neck. The brunette leaned closer to get a better look and almost whispered out one of the many swears she had accidentally learned from Stanford while living here.

There was a hand bruised into her neck, and it encompassed her entire neck.

She gingerly touched her neck and winced at the dull pain. Guess she wasn’t going to take off her sweater for about 2 weeks now… just 1 week if she was lucky enough…

She tentatively took a step outside of the bathroom and tiptoed down the hallway again, trying to not make a single sound. Just when she got to the steps she heard a door open behind her, causing her to instantly crouch down and hope that she was far enough down the stairs that her body was hidden from sight.

She dared herself to peek just above the top step to see Fiddleford standing outside of his room, stretching and yawning before closing his door and walking towards the bathroom Mabel just left, making the 13-year-old let out a sigh of relief that he wasn’t going to see her like this.

She knew she should probably tell Fiddleford what happened, but she just couldn’t. Maybe it was that childish fear of getting in trouble over nothing getting to her, or maybe it was the fear that her young Grunkle would be blamed for what Bill did.

Regardless, despite her better judgment, she kept her mouth shut and decided to hide her bruises from everyone else in the house, silently thinking of a way she could somehow protect herself from Bill.

She could practically hear Dipper yelling at her about how bad of an idea this was, but she was too shaken up to think of anything else…

So, she kept with the plan even as she shakily slipped a sweater over her large t-shirt she wore as a night gown and fell asleep on the couch, huddled in the corner in a ball as vivid nightmares haunted her fitful sleep, showing flashes of a possessed Stanford Pines throwing her off either the house or a water tower.

She woke up the next day to the warm smell of breakfast and the soft tones of Fidd's humming a tune in the kitchen, her body absolutely aching and a tad sweaty from the combo of the sweater and the fireplace keeping the room warm.

Mabel winced as she got off the couch. Yep… her back is definitely bruised.

She tentatively walked towards the open archway leading into the kitchen, silently calming her nerves and trying to put a smile onto her face. It helped that Fiddleford is making breakfast, she loves his food.

The kicthen was so empty when she first arrived but the southern man immediately starting keeping the place stocked when it was clear that she was going to stay there for a while. He also insistent on making her a meal 3 times a day since she was a ‘growin’ lil’ girl’. Because of her memories of Fiddleford being ‘Old Man McGucket’ were much more prominent in her brain it was easy to forget that he was once a father, but in those domestic moments when he doted and fussed over her it was clear that he was a good one.

Well, when he was sane that is…

She quickly shook off the bleak memory.

Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts…

She let out a low breath as a wide smile covered her face, her round cheeks rosy as she happily skipped inside.

Fiddleford perked up at the sound of Mabel walking inside, smiling as immediately spoke with a fond voice, "Ey there sweetpea, sleep well?" He idly glanced behind to see Mabel in her baggy t-shirt/sleep gown as well as a sweater on top of that, making him raise an eyebrow as he playfully asks, "Did someone get' cold last night?"

"Just a little bit." Mabel playfully replied back, unable to stop the wince that crossed her face at the sound of her hoarse voice.

Fiddleford, who was already done making breakfast, immediately whipped his head around at the sound. "Honeybee, are ya' alright?"

She lightly coughs into her fist a couple times and passingly remarks, “I’m fine, it's just morning gunk! Just need some water, haha!” Trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Fiddleford still had a suspicious look in his eye as he looked over the little lady before deciding to let her off easy with this one, grabbing a rag and wiping his hands while replying with a quiet, “Alright, if ya say so, sunshine…”

He quickly pours Mabel a glass of water and then grabs a plate of bacon and pancakes. “Fer you, made just how you like it,” Mabel sits down in her chair as Fiddleford places the glass of water in front of her and a plate of pancakes and some bacon that is extremely burnt. “Burnt in a volcano.”

The brunette drinks some water first, happy to note that it actually does ease the pain in her throat! After that she eagerly grabs a burnt piece of bacon and shoves it into her mouth, loving the way flakey black residue smears onto her fingers and the overwhelming taste of what can only be described as ‘BURNT’ fills her mouth. She muffles out, “It’s perfect!” In between bites as Fiddleford chuckles at her antics and makes himself a plate. “Yer such an odd lil’ duck, honeydew! Only kid I’ve ever met who wanna me ta’ burn their meal!”

Mabel immediately shoots back, pointing at Fiddleford with a mouth full of bacon, “Tahts cause ohther peowple are COWERDS!!!”

The lanky man lets out a full on belly laugh as he grabs his plate and sits at the table, the two beginning to talk about anything that crosses their mind.

Stanford wasn’t going to join them for breakfast. He’s usually asleep at this time or buried in whatever notes he was currently writing.

…Mabel feels a little bad that she's kinda happy he wouldn’t join them… Her throat feels like it’s constricting all over again at the thought of those sickly yellow eyes and horrid laughter…

At some point while eating, Fiddleford makes a joke that makes Mabel loudly laugh, the sudden shout of laughter causing her to wince and try to grab at her throat. She stops herself a couple inches short of the grab and quickly puts her hand back down, but the damage was already done.

Fiddleford, concern coming back at full force, puts down his fork and immediately asks with a concerned tone, "Honey, is ‘ere somethin' wrong with ‘ur neck?"

Sweat began to bead on Mabel’s forehead and she tried to immediately brush off the concern with a not so convincing, "Whaaaaat, psh, nah!"

He raises an eyebrow at the clearly nervous little girl. "Mabel, if yer' hurt I'd like to know."

She starts to fidget in her seat, fingers wrapping together and her brown eyes darting away. "Look, it's not thaaaat bad you don't gotta worry about it-"

At the confirmation that she is indeed hurt makes him sit up and shoot back, "Well tha' just makes me MORE worried bout it!"

Unable to come up with anymore excuses Mabel plays with a fork in front of her, eyes locked with her plate. Fiddleford let out a soft sigh and leans closer to the brunette across the table and rests his hand on hers, a kind smile on his face as he gently adds on with that fatherly tone that immediately made Mabel feel better, "Darling, it ain't gonna get better if ya’ don't lemme help. I promise I ain’t gon’ get mad, ya hear?"

Mabel tentatively glanced up at the southern man’s soft green eyes and could tell he meant every kind word.

So, despite her promising to keep her injuries a secret, she takes a deep breath and nods her head, gingerly taking off the thick hand-made sweater to leave her neck and bandaged up arms exposed to the world. The lanky southern man’s eyes seem to grow more horrified every passing second.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph-"

Fiddleford jumps up from the table, almost making his plate fall off while doing so, quickly rounding the table and crouching in front of the brunette with green eyes filled with so much worry and horror.

He found himself fussing over the girl who had easily wormed herself into his and Ford's hearts and found himself growing even more sickened at every bruise and cut he found, though nothing could compare to that sinking feeling of dread he felt looking at Mabel's bruised neck.

He cupped the brunette’s face and could feel tears well up in his eyes as he stuttered out a confused, "W-wha'..., Mabel wha' on earth happened-" His heart breaking trying to even comprehend what could have happened to her.

On the opposite end, Mabel could feel her heart swell at Fidd's fatherly fussing, but tried to brush it off the best she could, not wanting him to worry about her.

"I'm fine really! I just, uh… tripped down the stairs…? …Yeah! Didn't want to worry you, haha!"

Fiddleford, who suddenly stopped paying attention to what Mabel was saying, let his eyes looking closer at the girl's neck before they widened in a horrifying realization.

"I… Is tha' a hand…?"

A rush of panic suddenly runs through Mabel as she tries to come up with some excuse to throw him off, something, anything!

"Fidd’s it's FINE! I just… uh… wore a sweater that was too tight…?” Goodness she’s screwed, even she was aware of how unsure she sounded.

Fiddleford still wasn’t paying attention. Instead one of his hands lowered from her rosy cheeks and ever so slightly touched her neck with the lightest of touches. His green gaze was analytical as finger traced down the bruised skin, talking to himself so quietly that even Mabel almost didn’t hear him as he quietly began to count.

“One, two, three, four, five, s-”

The blond cut himself off with a sharp inhale through his nose as the look of worry that had previously graced the southern man's face suddenly disappeared and was replaced with a look Mabel had never seen on his face before.

It was a quiet anger. The kind of anger that's terrifying to witness as it bubbles from deep inside but you refuse to let it show on your face, even as your hands begin to tremble and your vision goes red.

Without saying a word Fiddleford stood up and stayed completely silent, unable to say a word for about 10 seconds while his face was blank and unreadable. Finally, Fiddleford looked down at Mabel and gave a kind smile that didn't fully reach his eyes.

"Sweetie, could ya' stay here a sec? I have something importan' I need tha’… discuss… with Stanferd."

After finishing that statement he gently patted the top of her brunette head and walked out of the kitchen archway, turning the corner and heading up the stairs that lead to Stanford's room, walking with such silent intensity that it kinda frightened her.

After a couple moments of staying frozen in her chair she finally managed to shake off the feeling, realizing she had to stop Fiddleford! As scary as it would be seeing Stanford again after last night's… incident… she couldn't just let Fiddleford go confront Ford without the full story!

She sprang up from her chair and winced at the pain radiating from her back. Yep! Still definitely bruised!

Mabel rushed out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She stumbles to a stop at the end of the steps as she sees Fiddleford standing outside Ford's door, just as quiet as he was downstairs. He raises his hand and gives a firm echoing knock and she could faintly hear her young Grunkle respond with a strong, "Come in!"

She hates that she shivers a bit at his voice.

She hates that she's a little bit afraid of him.

Fiddleford doesn't respond and instead just opens the door and then quietly closes it behind him. The door doesn’t close all the way which makes a sliver of light from Ford's bedroom/study shine against the floor in the hallway.

Well... Fiddleford hadn't broken any windows or started yelling, so maybe, just maybe, he's going in there to calmly talk out the problem with Ford? Well, that was more wishful thinking on Mabel's part. She HOPES they will just, talk it out, and no one will get hurt...

A loud crash and shout echoed through the hallway.

A girl could dream can't she?

Mabel sprints to Stanford’s door, tripping over herself the whole way, and yanks open the heavy wooden door as quickly as she could.

When she finally pries it open she’s greeted with the sight of Fiddleford in the middle of trying to choke out Stanford, while Stanford is leaning against one of his smaller wooden cabinets, pushing Fidds away (to the best of his ability) with his foot, clutching his very bloody nose in confusion.

Mabel rushes in and pushes the southern man away from her bleeding Great Uncle to the best of her ability but Fiddleford upon seeing Mabel finally backs off from trying to murder Ford, but the look of pure anger firmly remains on his face.

Ford looks at Fiddleford with pure confusion as he pushes himself off the small wooden cabinet, clutching his bleeding nose all the while.

"F, what on earth has gotten into you!"

Fiddleford stared back with his mouth agape, absolutely gobsmacked, before finally yelling back, "Wha'- what's gotten into ME?! What's gotten into YOU Stanferd Pines!"

Fidds pushed past Mabel and jabbed his finger into the brunet’s chest.

"She's a lil girl?! How DARE you even lay a FINGER on her!"

"F what on earth are you talking about?!"

Fiddleford roughly grabs Ford's shoulders and pushes him to look towards Mabel with a surprising amount of force.

"SHE'S what I'm talkin' bout! Stanferd Filbrick Pines who gave you tha' idea ya' had tha' GODDAMN right to even lay a FINGER on her-"

Stanford couldn't focus on the rant Fiddleford poured into his ears instead his eyes state frozen on the disgusting purple mark staining Mabel's neck.

"Mabel… who-"

Stanford knelt next to the sweet girl who reminded him so much of Stanley in his youth and felt a familiar pang in his chest. That feeling he'd feel whenever Lee came home covered in bruises. That feeling to protect… and to hurt anyone who dares to hurt them.

"Sweetheart… who did this? What happened?"

Fiddleford scoffed. "Ya should know."

Ford shivered at how cold F had sounded. Out of all of his years of knowing him, Fidds had never sounded like this.

Then the meaning of those words finally hit him.

Stanford rushed to stand up and looked back to Fiddleford's furious eyes with his own look of disbelief.

"Y-... You think I did this?"

Fiddleford's eyes didn't change in the slightest.

"Ya'. Ya' I do."

"We've known each other for years, we went to college together, I went to your wedding, you are easily my best friend. Do you honestly think I'm capable of doing something like this?!"

"I used ta'," Fidds crossed his arms. "Now I ain't so sure."

Ford didn't know HOW to feel. This felt like a betrayal but not in the way Stanley's felt. He also felt offended. And hurt. And so many other emotions that were swirling in his chest.

"How? How did you even get it in your head that I had something to do with this!? How could you look at me and even IMAGINE me hurting her?! I can't even imagine myself hurting her! She's-"

"Hand."

Ford froze from his rant.

"What."

"Yer' tha' only one who coulda' done it. How do I know? Hand."

"Ya' always go on an' on about the statistics of someone' being polydactyly. About how different ya' are."

"I want ya' to look at how many fingers are on that handprint on 'er neck, look me in tha' eye, and tell me who's most likely tha' guilty party."

Stanford froze, his face turning white at the realization. He didn't need to turn around and investigate the bruise on Mabel's neck. He now knows it had 6 fingers. When you put all the facts together, one thing is clear.

He IS the most likely person to have done it.

But there's a problem with that.

He DEFINITELY didn't do it.

He glanced back at Mabel, who seemed to be nervously pulling at her nightgown the entire time. After a moment she finally glances up, but after looking into his brown eyes for less than a second she quickly looked back down.

He didn't do it. He knows he didn't.

But if he didn't, why did she look so scared of him?

He didn't do it…

…Didn’t he…?

❔—————————————❓

Now this is a bonus doodle based on an idea I had for the aftermath of this! Stanford is stuck mulling over this in his room and when he finally leaves he notes that Mabel isn't asleep on the couch like usual. So of course he freaks out and assumes she ran away, running all over the house in hopes of finding her. He runs upstairs to Fiddleford’s room and knocks frantically on his door to get him to help him find the missing girl.

Fiddleford opens the door looking annoyed and tired. When Stanford says he can’t find Mabel and that he’s looked everywhere the southern man cuts him off by instantly replying “I know where she is.” That instantly calms down Ford but he looks confused as he asks “You do?” To which Fidd’s opens the door a little bit more to show Mabel asleep on his bed.

Stanford lets out a soft ‘Oh.’ And just stands there, looking awkwardly at Fiddleford for a moment before trying to break the tension with a weak chuckle and asking “Did she want to have a sleepover?” The blond doesn’t even hesitate to reply back, “Yeah. Because she’s scared of you, Stanford.” And closing the door on the brunet’s face.

Stanford doesn’t move for what feels like forever before he heads back to his room, feeling a little sick.

Anywho, I’m done now!!!

I’m happy and sorry you read through all of that, you can leave now! 💥💥💥

[bones4thecats]

They Had A Nightmare Of The Overblot (PT. 1)

Type of Writing: Random Idea Name: They Had A Nightmare Of The Overblot Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, and Jamil Viper Idea-Giver: Random Thoughts

A/N: This was a lot of fun to write, I love to write stuff about comfort, it makes my lonely existence feel less lonely... I need a boyfriend...

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

❤️ Riddle was never really keen on focusing on the past, unless it centered around the rules set by the Queen, his family, and especially you. But, this was something that he couldn't throw behind him like nothing

❤️ You and Riddle had begun dating a while after the initial event, and whenever someone tried using his anger against him, you would step in and knock the guy down a few pegs, much to Trey and Cater's amusement

❤️ Now, back to the point;

❤️ That day marked the birthday of your lovely boyfriend, and you made everything perfect; from the decorations to the strawberry tart that you helped Trey bake, to his night of relaxing and cuddling

❤️ Unfortunately, no amount of love you threw into that day would stop what ensued

❤️ Riddle had begun his dream perfectly, he was spending a great day in the garden with you. But, before he even realized it, he was yelling erratically as the roses died and you backed away in fear

❤️ Thankfully, he awoke before anything truly bad began... but seeing that look on your face made him beyond scared

❤️ You had woken up to the sound of his tiny whimpers, since it wasn't normal for him to make any noise at night. And once you saw the tear-stains running down his cheeks as he slept, you shook him awake, only to jump back as he sat up with such speed not even the Flash could reach

❤️ He held his chest as he curled into a fetal position, his knees tucked close to his chest as he wept

❤️ Pulling the covers fully back, you held your arms open, knowing Riddle was just getting used to being physically affectionate. And once he saw you open arms, he lunged into them, gripping your shirt and sobbing into it

" It's okay, Riddle... do you wish to speak about it? " " No... just- please stay here with me... don't go... "

❤️ Closing your eyes lightly, you maneuvered yourself so that you back was against the head of the bed before pulling the covers up as his grip stayed firmly on your shirt

❤️ A million thoughts were rushing through his head, what if he had actually done this during his Overblot? What if he had done worse?! What if he harmed you... nonetheless...

❤️ But, feeling the rubs of comfort against his back and head, those thoughts slowly exited his head as you hummed a small melody, one that Riddle enjoyed to hum whenever he was working on homework or Housewarden duties

❤️ And as the song progressed, he felt the familiar hold of sleep pull him deeper into darkness, the humming fading away as his tears and small sniffs progressed into his breaths, allowing you to smile and hug him slightly tighter

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🦁 Leona, much like Riddle, never liked bringing up his past problems. Like his family and the overblot for example, both made him feel like a failure

🦁 So, he would just avoid speaking about them, and you knew that asking him about either topics would either result in a small grunt and a sigh or him telling you it was nothing

🦁 You were very close to the magic-less prefect of Night Raven, so when they brought up the fact that Leona had an overblot incident while you were gone, dealing with business in your shared homeland, you were shocked

🦁 Why had he never told you about this?

🦁 But, knowing how your boyfriend was, you pushed the questions back, knowing he'd bring the topic up when he was ready to talk about it

🦁 Sadly for him, he never got to talk about it with you before the small incident

🦁 Leona loves to either lay on top of you to sleep or hold you while your head on his chest and his face in your neck, and he never moves in his sleep, so when he began to slightly toss and turn before gritting his teeth as growling, you awoke lightly

🦁 You noticed that there were tear-stains on his cheeks as he lightly croaked on his voice, saying the same two words over and over again; "Please" and "No"

🦁 So, you grabbed his face and began to try waking him up, and while it took a while, when he woke up with a jolt and shattered breaths, you sat up with him, holding his face as he tried calming down

" Leona, are you alright? Was it a bad dream? " " Yeah... but it's nothing to worry about, Y/N. " " Was it about your overblot? " " How do you- never mind. Let's just talk about it in the morning, okay? " " Alright... but, are you sure you're okay? " " Yes, jeez. You sound like my mother. " " Well, at least one of us is mature enough to sound like our parents. " " Shut up. "

🦁 Grabbing your hips and wrapping your legs around his waist, Leona scoffed at your words before dipping his face back into it's spot, breathing in your scent as he slipped deeper into sleep

🦁 You were still here... it was merely a dream. He had not laid a hand on you in rage, his emotions did not take over again... and you were here with him, unscathed, and protected

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🐙 This guy has a specific image to uphold, so he never brings up his true emotions or intentions unless he's speaking to someone he holds dear, like you or the Tweels. You because you're his S/O, and them because they have stuck beside him throughout everything

🐙 Azul does not enjoy lying to you, but when he awoke suddenly from his slumber with a coat of sweat on his skin and tears running down his cheeks, he had no choice

🐙 You were very confused when you woke up, seeing your boyfriend on the edge of the bed, his hands running through his hair, scratching his scalp, most likely leaving red marks underneath his light-colored hair

🐙 As your eyes adjusted to the light of the shell-lamp you had gifted him the month prior. And as they adjusted, you began to hear the movements of his hands scratching his scalp deeply

" Azul? Are you okay? "

🐙 He froze in place and rubbed his face to clean it of the tears that fell from his eyes, because he knew if you were to see it, you'd be extremely worried

🐙 Pushing his hair back with one hand, Azul turned around and looked at you with an obviously forced smile. And you furrowed your eyebrows at his expression and claim of being fine

" Honey, I know that you're not fine. Look, I won't pressure you into talking about it. But, may I take a guess? "

🐙 Looking into his eyes, anyone could tell that there was hidden emotions behind it all, so it didn't surprise you when the outer-parts of the eyes began to fog up with tears

" Yeah- uh, go ahead... " " Was it about your overblot? "

🐙 Now, the tears began to fall down his cheeks like mini-waterfalls. And once you opened your arms for him to attempt to relax, he jumped into your grasp and wrapped his arms around you, holding you very tightly

🐙 You could hear his shattered breaths in your neck, and you could feel the tears going into your shirt as he wept. So, in a compromise with his strong grab, you rubbed his back and laid on your side as he curled into a fetal position, essentially you were spooning him as he cried

🐙 You were going to get him to talk about this when he calmed down, he never pressured you, you weren't about to go pressure him

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🐍 He never liked to talk about his feelings, and you completely understood that, which is what gained his attention and eventual affections from him

🐍 Jamil loved having you spend time with him whenever he was free, and that was because he never really had anything that was his and not someone else's, not that he thought you belonged to him! It just felt nice to have someone there for him

🐍 So, that night when you decided to spend the night in his room with him, he was fairly happy to spend some time relaxing with you

🐍 Eventually when the night ended, you both retired into his bed and you hugged him from behind as he held your hand before falling victim to the lovely land of sleep

" No... I didn't mean to... Y/N... please... NO! "

🐍 Your eyes shot open in surprise as you felt Jamil yell and sit up in bed in shock, holding his hand to his chest as he breathed heavily

🐍 You noticed that his eyes were wide open, and that was your number one sign that he was beyond panicking. He looked at the sheets in fear as you called out his name

🐍 Your boyfriend looked at you as you cupped his face and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he held you tighter with each breath. As his breathing slowed down to a calmer pace, you rubbed his head

" Hey- hey, it's okay... Jamil, hey! It's gonna be alright, I'm right here with you. "

🐍 When his breaths eventually calmed down, he pulled his face away from your neck and allowed you to wipe the tears away from his cheeks. And once you looked into his eyes and smiled gently, he smiled back and kissed you, it was his own way of thanking you without his words

" We can talk about this tomorrow, how does that sound, love? " " That sounds good, Rohi. " " I love you, Jamil. " " And I you, Y/N. "

[xiaoluvss]

" to my muse . "⠀♡⠀₊ ° ..

੭* ‧₊° a 14 - line poem . .

— kazuha as the new student in your class .

(transferee!kazuha x shy!reader)

hihihihi i'm back loveliesssss so sorry i was gone for so longggg . . here's a new fic! :) warning ; this is gonna be sum toothrotting fluff!!!

PLEASE READ THE END I'M SO PROUD OF IT,, :') internally crying from how sweet it is . . soft-spoken men♡

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who was the new student who had suddenly come into your class, half of your classmates extremely curious on who he was. he was the literal definition of a sweet prince, flashing soft smiles to people who stared.

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who was apparently seated next to you, giving you a soft smile and a nod before turning back his gaze to the front of the class. in truth, you were the one who he found quite intriguing out of all the people in this class. you were . . quiet. and soft, too. every single time he looked at you, an image of a white, fluffy, bunny always flashed into his mind. there were times he has glanced over at you, noticing how you were more reserved than most of the people in this class — yet he refrained from staring too much as he might make you uncomfortable. he didn't want that. especially not from a possible friend. well, once he eventually gathers the courage to approach you . .

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who you found out was japanese from class introductions. you also found that he liked writing haikus and poems. he seemed soft-spoken and gentle, you thought. well . . he genuinely was. a great contrast to all the boys in your class. you know . . the usual troublemakers. or ones who don't put effort into their studies. you knew, because you had been in this same school for ages now.

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who had eventually decided to approach you – your sweet perfume lingering in the air as he watched you read quietly in your seat. he couldn't take his eyes off of you, even while talking to friends. he had excused himself, making silent steps towards your figure — ending up behind you. he peeked over your shoulder with a gentle smile to see what you were reading, speaking in a soft tone : "Before The Coffee Gets Cold? You have quite a nice taste in novels,"

once he sees your startled expression as you whip your head around, he immediately backs a few steps away and raises both his hands with an apologetic smile. "ah . . I apologize. did I startle you? I'm sorry. I mean no harm, really. you know me, correct? kaedehara kazuha – I sit next to you. I just thought you needed some company,"

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who eventually managed to calm you down, laughing gently as he leans on top of one of the desks beside you. seeing your shy nod, he finds himself back into his usual gentle smile, not wanting to make you feel pressured. "no need to be scared, I promise I don't bite. I was just finding someone to talk with, is all. someone a bit more reserved? like you. it's a nice break from all the other people in our class," he says. and there you were, finding yourself stuck in an admiring gaze towards him, until he tilts his head with a confused smile – wondering what was so fascinating on his face.

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who had eventually started getting closer and closer to you, always excusing himself from his friends for some reason— just to spend lunchtime with you. he was genuinely so patient with you, and always payed attention. you could tell just from his attentive and focused gaze, that he liked listening to your voice. he had to make sure all his attention was on you, because he had decided in his mind, that it wasn't often you would talk.

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who always had time for you, actually starting to enjoy spending time with you more than his own group of friends. just one doubtful gaze from you, and he's already reassuring you that he enjoys his time with you. he's telling you all this sweet stuff that's making your face flush, having to turn away from his gaze to hide the pink tint on your cheeks.

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who started to notice how you warmed up to him in the past few weeks. you were starting to get more talkative towards him, and him only. he knew how rare this was for you, since he barely saw you talk this much in front of other people. he never commented on it, though. he always making sure you were comfortable, appreciating the fact that you were opening up more and more towards him.

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who had now become your best friend, and the one who was the closest to your heart. kazuha was the type to always escort you home, sometimes even knocking on your door early in the morning to walk to school with you. he was the type to teach you japanese phrases if you were curious. he was the type to lean your head onto his shoulder if he found you nodding off. he was the type to pull you closer to him, and even hold your wrist, in crowded places. he doesn't want his favorite person getting lost now, would he?

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who has study sessions with you every now and then in your favorite café. he always ordered a cappucino, and the order never changed no matter how many times you went there together. while writing down onto notebooks and pieces of paper, there were times where you caught him staring at your face – always ending up in his smiling sheepishly and going back to work . . and then the cycle repeats again.

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who let you borrow his cream-colored hoodie once he noticed the slightest hint of discomfort in your figure, from the cold. it was just slightly bigger than you, and he kept insisting you wear it no matter how many times you refused to. it smelled really nice . . like his cologne. it was really, really, comfortable too. perfect for a nap. this ended up in many of your classmates asking about you two, or asking whose hoodie it was. he watched from afar as your face turned slightly pink, telling them it was kazuha's.

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha whose mom absolutely adores you. just like he does. she almost treats you like her own daughter. you often visited kazuha's place, as much as he does with yours. after so many visits, his mother only grew fonder of you each time. there were multiple reasons for each visit you made to his place. either to study, watch a movie, binge watch a series you like ('just for you', he says), or just to simply hang out. kazuha finds the whole situation sweet, always smiling as he watches his mother shower you with love. and snacks.

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha who would never not notice something off about you. stressed? he notices, buys you a food or drink you like, helps however he can, and so on. sad? still notices no matter how much you try to hide it. he's trying to make you tell him what's wrong with a bit of coaxing, rubbing your back in gentle circles. you get loads of comfort from him. god, even his voice alone gives you a wave of comfort in a matter of seconds. he's always showering you with compliments . . it makes you wanna cry from how much of a green flag this man was.

ʚɞ transferee!kazuha whose heart already found its anchor in you. to him, you were more than just another person in the crowd— you were the light that softened the sharp edges of his world. every glance, every word, only deepened the quiet adoration he held for you, as if you were the melody his soul had been searching for his whole life.

early in the morning, you discover a piece of paper resting on your desk—delicately adorned with neat handwriting, each stroke intentional. a 14-line poem . . just for you. beside it, two tulips were bound together by a ribbon. you already had a suspicion as to who this might be from—as there was only one poetic soul in the classroom. kaedehara kazuha. your suspicions were confirmed as your eyes fell upon the final line, written with unmistakable tenderness: "to my muse – from your favorite boy, kazuha :)" ♡

[vergess]

Please, please explain how to install and use linux like I'm 5 years old. I'm so sick of windows adding AI and other bullshit to my already struggling elderly laptop but I'm really not good with computers at all so I have no idea where to start with Linux.

Okay, so, I'm going to break this down into steps I would give the average tumblr user first, and then if any of them are confusing or use words you don't understand, ask me and I'll explain that step in greater detail.

Step 0) BACK. UP. YOUR. SHIT.

NEVER EVER EVER CHANGE YOUR OPERATING SYSTEM WITHOUT A COMPLETE BACKUP OF ALL YOUR FILES.

Step 1) Learn your machine. You need to know:

How much RAM you have

If your processor is 32 or 64 bit

How big your hard drive is

On windows, you can find out all of this by going to the start menu, typing "about" and opening the first result on your system instead of the internet.

For additional instructions, visit this page.

Step 2) Pick your Linux.

There's like 10,000 kinds of Linux, each tailored to particular functions that the end-user (that is you!) might want to have. The sheer amount is very daunting, so first I'm going to give my suggestions, then I'll explain how to pick for yourself.

For Mac users, I suggest Kubuntu. For windows users, I suggest Mint Cinnamon. If your laptop is really REALLY old, I recommend Sparky Stable, which is the lightest weight Linux I would ever suggest for a new user. In every case, download the version suited to your processor (32 bit can be labelled "x86" or "32 bit"; 64 bit is always labelled "64 bit").

If you want to try a different type of linux, you'll need to make sure your laptop meets the "minimum specs" or "system requirements." These numbers tell you how much RAM, processor and hard drive space the linux will use. (That's why you needed those numbers at the beginning.)

Step 3) Collect your supplies. You're going to need:

An ISO burning program compatible with your current system, like Balena Etcher.

A copy of the ISO file for the Linux you want to use.

Your laptop.

An 8gb or larger USB flash drive.

Step 3) Make a bootable USB drive

Install Balena Etcher, hitting "okay" and "next" when prompted. Last I checked, Etcher doesn't have adware attached, so you can just hit next every time.

Plug your USB drive into the laptop.

Open Etcher.

Click "flash from file" and open the ISO file with your Linux on it.

Click "Select target" and open the USB drive location. Hit the "flash" button. This will start writing all the linux installer data to your flash drive. Depending on the speed of your machine, this could take as long as 10 minutes, but shouldn't be much longer.

Step 4) Boot to the USB drive

This is, in my opinion, the trickiest step for a lot of people who don't do "computer stuff." Fortunately, in a rare act of good will, Windows 10 made this process a lot easier.

All you'll need to do is go to settings, then recovery, then advanced startup and pick the button labelled "use a device."

This tutorial has images showing where each of those is located. It's considered an "advanced setting" so you may get a spooky popup warning you that you could "harm your system by making changes" but we're not doing anything potentially harmful so you can ignore that if you get it.

Step 5) Try out linux on the flash drive first.

Linux installs using a cool little test version of itself that you can play around in. You won't be able to make changes or save settings, but you can explore a bit and see if the interface is to your liking. If it's hideous or hard to navigate, simply pick a new linux version to download, and repeat the "make a bootable USB" step for it.

Step 6) Actually install that sucker

This step varies from version to version, but the first part should be the same across the board: on the desktop, there should be a shortcut that says something like "install now." Double click it.

Follow the instructions your specific linux version gives you. When in doubt, pick the default, with one exception:

If it asks you to encrypt your drive say no. That's a more advanced feature that can really fuck your shit up down the road if you don't know how to handle it.

At some point you're going to get a scary looking warning that says 1 of 2 things. Either:

Install Linux alongside Windows, or

Format harddrive to delete all data

That first option will let you do what is called "dual booting." From then on, your computer will ask every time you turn it on whether you want Windows or Linux.

The second option will nuke Windows from orbit, leaving only linux behind.

The install process is slower the larger your chosen version is, but I've never seen it take more than half an hour. During that time, most linux versions will have a little slideshow of the features and layout of common settings that you can read or ignore as you prefer.

Step 7) Boot to your sexy new Linux device.

If you're dual booting, use the arrow keys and enter key to select your linux version from the new boot menu, called GRUB.

If you've only got linux, turn the computer on as normal and linux will boot up immediately.

Bonus Step: Copy Pasting some code

In your new start menu, look for an application called "terminal" or "terminal emulator." Open that up, and you will be presented with an intense looking (but actually very harmless) text command area.

Now, open up your web browser (firefox comes pre-installed on most!), and search the phrase "what to do after installing [linux version you picked]"

You're looking for a website called "It's FOSS." Here's a link to their page on Mint. This site has lots and lots of snippets of little text commands you can experiment with to learn how that functionality works!

Or, if you don't want to fuck with the terminal at all (fair enough!) then instead of "terminal" look for something called "software manager."

This is sort of like an app store for linux; you can install all kinds of programs directly from there without needing to go to the website of the program itself!

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> mention of harm words -> 1.1k

abstract -> healing takes time...

y/n's perspective

“I want to dye my hair too!” Wooyoung now begged seeing Yeosang with a new haircut and Seonghwa with blonde hair. “We should dye our hair the same color!” he offered to San, who only gave him a weak smile until Wooyoung turned back to me when San shook his head no. 

“y/n! Tell Wooyoung to stay away from my stuff!” Yeosang yelled as he now came over with products used up and left open from what I assumed to be Wooyoung. 

“Just learn to share” he grinned and the doberman scoffed. 

“Where’s the tigers?” San asked and I wondered that too. “Seonghwa is currently throwing things outside the door while yelling at Hongjoong,” Yeosang said and I was left confused. We all walked over to see Hong Jong standing in front of his room where the door was open… socks, clothes, and trash were being thrown out of the room and at the orange tiger. 

“It’s not that bad Seonghwa, you’re being dramatic,” Hongjoong said and was met with a can of what used to be soda at his head. “Then why is this place a mess!” Seonghwa yelled as we leaned in to see him lint rolling the floor… and occasionally throwing things.  

“y/n… this is why I asked if I could get my own room” he begged and Seonghwa scoffed. “Please, by all means, move me somewhere else! I don’t wanna clean after your pile of dirty clothes!” he yelled. 

“Copy Tiger!” Wooyoung said while teasing Hongjoong. “I want a lock in my room” Yeosnag suggested and I laughed. “You do have a lock…” I said and he shook his head. “A new one… Wooyoung broke it and there's no key to go in if I leave it locked” he explained. 

“How about you and Seonghwa share rooms?” San offered and Yeosnag scoffed. “Honestly, I’d prefer the snobby dog over Hongjoong,” Seonghwa said still cleaning. 

“Hmm… maybe then Wooyoung wouldn’t come barging in,” Yeosang muttered. “Hey!” Wooyoung yelled. “angel, i'm fine with the tiger moving into my room” Yeosang said and I was shocked at the sudden request… “Are you sure? There's still an extra room?” I asked and he shook his head. 

He pulled me aside from the other three staring inside the room Soenghwa was cleaning. 

“Seonghwa and I share a lot of products anyway… and I already have him use up my clothes and the same with me. Wooyoung wouldn’t steal from Seonghwa without getting scolded. He’s the oldest and would just retaliate by making him clean the fridge or dishes by himself” he explained and I chuckled. 

Protection of the oldest hybrid here… you were unsure but trusted his suggestion.

“Well… if that’s what you want?”

I was shocked that Seonghwa moved in the same day.

I was busy all day with San and writing my book when I went out for dinner to see Seonghwa scolding Wooyoung. “Sorry hyung…  won’t do it again” he apologized while I saw Yeosnag grin from the kitchen island.

“Your plan worked?” I asked and he nodded. “Seonghwa is making him clean out the freezer as punishment for touching his magazines” he explained and I chuckled.

“So he’s completely moved in?” I asked and he nodded. “He even cleaned, wanna see?” he asked and he led me to their room where I saw… an organized and clean room. I knew Seonghwa was clean but they both had made beds and a clean decoration in their room that fit their expensive taste. Even the stuff they share, they’ve organized.

“And if any of them do come to rob us, they’ll get to Seonghwa’s stuff first since he’s closest to the door,” Yeosang explained and I chuckled. “As long as you get along… I didn’t think you’d ever room with him because of your arguments?” I asked and he shrugged. 

“Doesn’t mean we don’t see eye-to-eye”

I knocked on Hongjoong’s door with a plate of food when he opened it. “Ah dinner already?” he asked and I nodded. “Done moving your stuff around?” I asked and he nodded. He lets me in where I see he’s completely replaced Soenghwa with instruments and his computer. 

“At peace finally!” he exclaimed. 

“Is this what you expected when you asked me for your own room?” I asked and he nodded. “Seonghwa as much as he doesn’t get along with Yeosang are menaces together. So they’ll be perfect roommates and even Wooyoung and San are clingy to each other” he explained and I agreed. 

“I’m making an appointment for San and Wooyoung to dye their hair… Do you want to?” I asked and he thought about it. “Hmm… what would I dye it to?” he asked and I shrugged. 

“Seonghwa recommended blonde for his white tiger fur, and Yeosnag stuck with his normal hair since it blends with his fur” I explained and he nodded. 

“Hmm… do you think two hair colors would look good?”

“Why would you copy me?”Hongjoong complained while looking at Wooyoung. He decided to color part of his hair blonde while dyeing his other hair a darker brown than before. San only held my hand as we waited for the elevator to reach my apartment. 

He only trimmed and styled it… it was no longer as messy as before and made him look more mature. While Hongjoong did half his hair blonde and the other black… with Wooyoung copying him a bit. 

“If anyone was gonna match I thought it was gonna be San and Wooyoung '' Seonghwa teased and Hongjoong rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t that look cute” Yeosang added and I laughed. 

“I think they both look good,” I said and Hongjoong offered me a smile whilst Wooyoung showed off his new hair cut. 

“It’s almost like a new look for you and Wooyoung for your first anniversary with me” I teased and he chuckled. “I kinda like the sound of that San said and I smiled.

“What do you guys wanna do?” I asked and he hummed in though. “Oh! I wanna go out to eat in a fancy restaurant!” Wooyoung said and San nods agreeing.

“Theres nothing special about it” Yeosnag said and Woyoung stuck his tongue out. “Says the one who went there more than a grocery store!” he argued. 

“Ooh! And we need a lot of desserts to celebrate!” Wooyoung now told me hugging me. “What flavor do you want San?” he asked the panther. “Chocolate!” he said with a grin. 

“Anything you guys want”

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

[kingofbodyrolls]

End of the World (m) | myg | teaser

→ Summary: Your government has been telling you to prepare for war, just as a precaution given the recent political changes around your country. Did you listen and prepare? No. Are you paying the price now, friends all but gone, and your city burned to pieces? Yes. Survival instincts kicking in, you search for a place to rest, nourish your battered and hungry body, only to find yourself at the porch of a stranger. Will he help you, or leave you to your own demise?  → Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female) → Genres/AUs: science fiction, apocalyptic, survival, co-dependency to stay alive + heavy angst, fluff and smut. → Tropes: strangers to lovers, forced proximity (because love that shit) → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: still writing (approx 10-20k) it’s a one-shot! → Author’s note: hiya. I’m currently writing this apocalyptic story with Yoongi, because… well. I’m fucking scared. So this is me working through and with my fear for something that I’m afraid is actually going to happen. We don’t need to talk about it, because a lot of bad shit is happening all over the world 😭 This is purely a story, though made up by my fears, yeah. Anyway, it’s okay if you’re not into it! The vibe for it is like The Last of Us and maybe a bit Fallout, I think if you enjoy that type of stuff, you’ll enjoy this one too. But it’s really heavy, but there’s a decent amount of fluff to balance it out, because, it’s still a fanfiction and it wouldn’t be that without some good old fluff and smut 🥰

You know you must move, but before you leave, there’s a promise to fulfill for Yuri.

You relieve yourself and step back onto the road, eyes fixed on the distant horizon that seems miraculously untouched by the ravages of war. That glimmer of hope pulls you forward. You have to reach it. No matter the distance, no matter the obstacles, you must get there. 

It’s your only chance.

You walk and walk—days blur into weeks. Your clothes hang off your frame, tattered and too big. Bombings have become a constant backdrop, each explosion a distant rumble you barely acknowledge. The earth’s violent shudders no longer faze you. Hunger gnaws at you, a relentless companion, its grip tightening until you can’t even remember your last meal. Water, your only steadfast ally, has kept you moving; without it, you’d have long since fallen.

You trudge along the desolate highway, the city a distant speck on the horizon behind you. You have no sense of how far you’ve traveled, only that the remnants of your home have shrunk to a mere dot in your vision. The road stretches endlessly ahead, a bleak reminder of the ground yet to cover.

Dizziness is your constant companion now, your throat as parched as the Sahara despite your efforts to hydrate. Water is scarce, and you’ve been rationing it for days. Hope feels like a distant memory, and though the elusive horizon you’ve been chasing for weeks appears closer, it still seems maddeningly out of reach.

Your body feels like lead, your feet swollen and throbbing with every step. 

Sleep is a distant memory, haunted away by visions of blood-streaked faces, final breaths, and echoing cries. Bloodshot eyes and a disheveled appearance mark your struggle; you’re still in your tattered nightdress, stained with blood and reeking of fear and sweat. 

No food, no shower, just the relentless march through this wasteland.

You’ve lost track of time—is it still September? 

The biting cold cuts through you, your torn and ruined shoes barely offering any protection. You trudge onward, desperate to find shelter, weary of hiding in the bushes from strangers who might wish you harm. Paranoia grips you; every rustle in the distance, every shadow makes you jump. Trust is a luxury you can’t afford. You feel like you’re unraveling, teetering on the edge of sanity.

When your eyes land on a solitary house down a side street off the main road, you can hardly believe it. You’re nowhere near your end goal, the neighboring city, yet here it is—a lonesome house in the middle of fucking nowhere. You chuckle, convinced you’ve lost your mind. Why would there be a house out here, untouched by the chaos? You blink repeatedly, but the house remains. Your feet carry you forward, despite your spinning head and the jumbled mess of thoughts in your mind.

The house, partially concealed by tall trees and lush bushes miraculously untouched by the war, seems like a relic from a forgotten world. An old jeep, battered but intact, sits beside the porch with its white picket fence. You approach cautiously, every step feeling surreal, and lift your hand to knock. Your bloody knuckles leave crimson smears on the pristine white door, a stark reminder of the nightmare you can’t escape.

You lose track of time standing there, every second stretching into an eternity, before the door is abruptly ripped open. You find yourself staring down the barrel of a rifle.

“Who are you?” a male voice demands, harsh and suspicious, but the words barely register. Your vision blurs, darkness encroaching, and the last thing you feel is the hard impact of the porch floorboards against your head as you collapse.

→ Do you want to join Yoongi on a quest for survival as the world crumbles around you? Let me know and I’ll tag you when it drops 💜

Also please let me know if you’re interested, excited about it— otherwise I’m probably just gonna post it on my ao3 only, lol. I’m scared 🫣

Read the second teaser + book cover [here]!

It's been posted!!!!

[fatkish]

Hi hi! I really love reading through all of your mha x inner child fanfics, theyve honestly helped a lot lol.

I was wondering if I could request Present Mic with (his) child reader after an unsuccessful suicide attempt? They attempted to go out by hanging but were saved at the last moment, so their throat is in complete pain. Just maybe some comfort and angst in his eccentric, silly ways, not wanting reader to hurt more but still hurting himself lol (but feel free to spin this however you want!).

(TRIGGER WARNING: Please note that the following contains sensitive content: attempts at suicide, self harm, mental abuse directed at oneself. Please be warned and don’t read if you are not in the right mindset to do so. This is a comfort fic aimed at comforting those who have dealt with or felt like this at one point)

Present Mic x Child Reader: Perfect to Me

You had been born Quirkless. The media had a field day with the news of the Voice Hero: Present Mic’s own child being quirkless. It was hard enough to be quirkless, but when everyone knew your father had a strong quirk, it made things even harder. You were always compared to him by your peers and even some of your teachers. You got bullied relentlessly by other kids. No one wanted to be your friend and the teachers would turn a blind eye to it all.

The kids would say things like ‘I bet you’re actually adopted and Present Mic is just too much of a hero to get rid of you’ ‘your dad must be super embarrassed his kid is quirkless and a loser’ ‘if no one knew you were his kid then he’d probably get rid of you’ your dad’s a lame hero so it makes sense he’d keep a quirkless kid’. The other kids always said things about how your dad must be putting up an act and probably just sees you as a charity case.

The teachers were bad too. ‘I can’t even imagine having a quirkless child’ ‘imagine how it must be having a child like that’ ‘the poor man is probably so stressed all the time, worried about his kid’ ‘it must be so disappointing to find out your kid is quirkless’. The teachers would whisper about how it must be such a burden to raise a quirkless child. They spoke rumors about you being his illegitimate child and that he’s probably only kept you to make himself look good.

You never told Mic about anything anybody said. You knew he loved you, you’re his whole world… right? After a few years of torment and bullying from other kids you started to doubt yourself and your father. You started to believe that you were just a burden on Mic and that he’s only putting up a loving act. He’s your dad, so of course he’s supposed to love you, plus he’s a hero, so how much of his love is really true and not just stuff he’s supposed to say. How do you know if your dad actually cares for you or only tells you this because he’s a good person and is just being nice?

Eventually in 5th grade when you were 11, you couldn’t take it anymore. You truly believed that your dad was only trying to make you feel better about being quirkless. You believed that you were a burden and that your dad would be better off without you to look after. One day, you decided to skip school and returned home after your dad left. You had been planning this for some time. You had grabbed an old 10ft phone charger cord and tied one end into a slipknot and tied the other to a wooden beam in the kitchen. You decided to write your dad a note before taking your life. You then stood up on a chair and slipped the cord around your neck before kicking away the chair.

Mic had been halfway on his way home from UA because he realized that he forgot some of his students English papers that he graded. He got a call from one of your few nice teachers who informed him that you weren’t at school. He had seen you leave this morning so he knows that you left, were you skipping school? Why? Guess he’ll ask you when he gets home. He pulled into the driveway and parked before exiting and locking his car. He unlocked his front door and entered the house, closing the door behind him before calling out your name.

“(Y/n)? You home? I’m not mad, I left some papers that I had graded on the kitchen table. C’mon, let’s have a talk, I’m sure you have a reason for skipping scho— Oh God NOOOOO!”

As Mic had walked from the living room, through the dining room and into the kitchen, he paused when his eyes took in the sight of your body nearly limp and hanging with a cord around your neck. The moment he saw it he ran to you and grabbed a knife to cut the cord. The moment he did, your limp body fell into his arms.

“Oh my god, my sweet baby, no. Please, (y/n) baby, please don’t be dead, please don’t die on me, Daddy’s here now, Daddy’s got you, come back to me baby” Present Mic cried as he cradled your body and dialed the emergency number for an Ambulance. While he stayed with you, he saw the note and grabbed it, when the paramedics arrived they got to work getting oxygen into you and had to stick a tube down your windpipe to get oxygen into your lungs. Mic rode in the Ambulance with them as he called Shota and let him know what was happening. Shota then told Nedzu what happened.

While you were being treated, Mic pulled the note out and read it.

Dear Dad,

I’m sorry that you had to find me like this. I know it’s a burden having to deal with and care for a quirkless child and that dealing with my death is just more of a burden. I’m sorry I’m quirkless, I know that you always say it’s okay but you don’t have to lie anymore. I know you must have been disappointed when I didn’t get a quirk and I’m so sorry. Thank you for taking such good care of me even though it must have been an immense burden. Thank you for being a kind and loving father even if it was just an act. I love you so much and I’m sorry that you had to endure living with me for so long. But that’s all over now so you can rest now. Thank you for everything and thank you for putting up with me. You’re my hero.

-Love,

(Y/n)

Hizashi had tears rolling down his cheeks when Shota got to the hospital and found him sitting in a hallway outside your door. When Shota took the note and read it, he too, shed some tears.

“W-why? Why didn’t they tell me Sho? Why didn’t they say anything? Do they really believe that I don’t love them? What did I do wrong?!?”

“Shh, I know Zash, I know. This isn’t on you, this isn’t your fault”

“My baby is dead?!? Sho! How am I- what am I gonna do, how am I supposed to deal with this?”

As Hizashi cried to Shota, one of the nurses exited your room.

“Excuse me, Mr. Yamada, your child is awake now. We’ve put them on the Suicide watch and a psychoanalytic will be visiting with them later to determine what caused this and what the best course of treatment for them is. You can go in now and see them” the nurse moved aside and motioned towards the door.

Hizashi immediately jumped to his feet and ran inside the room only to stop and stare at you. You had your head down and your hands in your lap as you sat in the hospital bed under the sheets wearing a hospital gown. Tears swelled in his eyes as he realized you were alive. Hearing and seeing the beats on the heart monitor was a relief to him. He ran over to you swallowing you up in his arms as he cried.

“Oh (y/n) my sweet baby, you’re alive, I was so scared don’t you ever do that again you hear me! I love you so much, I’m so happy you’re alive. No matter what anyone says or thinks, you’re perfect to me. Just the way you are. Quirk or no quirk, you will always be my sweet baby. I love you so much”

Hizashi cried as he hugged you and cradled you in his arms. He kept rubbing his forehead into your shoulder. You carefully removed his glasses and put them aside as you kissed his forehead.

“Dad I’m-“

“No no, shhh… it’s okay, explanations can come later. If you don’t want to talk about it right now then we don’t have to, I’m just so grateful that you’re alive. Promise me you’ll talk to me before you ever do this again, please”

“I promise”

“Pinky promise”

You looked at the serious look and your dad’s face as he held his pinky finger out to you. You couldn’t help but smile at his silly antics and linked your pinky with his.

“I promise”

“Okay good.”

After that, Hizashi crawled into the bed with you as you sat on his lap and snuggled into his arms. Shota sat in the chair to the side and smiled at you.

The following week was filled with snuggles and eating junk food while watching movies. When you got home after the suicide watch ended, your dad surprised you by letting you go to UA with him and letting you do your homeschooling there. Nedzu decided that it would be best for you to be in an environment where you would be safe from bullying and what better environment than a school for heroes? You got to stay in the faculty room and did your homework, you got to eat lunch with your dad and he’d show you off to all his coworkers.

Needless to say you still had some doubts but therapy was helping. Your dad loves you and it’s obvious to you now just how much.

[wosoragebaiter69]

that’s enough

barça femeni x teen!reader, alexia putellas x fem!reader

request: here

A/N: this is a mess. the plot is like when ur writing an english essay and you let your subconscious mind write it so it ends up splitting into three topics with no context.

TW: throwing up, coarse language

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

Last night, I went out again. It isn’t unusual for me and if I get caught it gets me in trouble with Alexia. I’m not even doing anything bad most of the time, just driving around to take the pressure away. What I don’t factor in this time is the fact that we have an early morning session and a late night session. So if hell was a day, this is it.

First, we have a video session discussing tactics. Which is at 7am, then at 6pm we have a field session. Of course when I wasn’t there when Alexia woke up she immediately called me.

“Where are you? Where’s your car and why aren’t you in the house?” She questions clearly annoyed.

“Relax Alexia, I went out on a little drive, I’ll be there for the video session don’t worry.” She’s about to say more but I hang up. I know I won’t hear the end of this but there can’t be too much harm.

Turns out there can be.

I walk inside the room with my mcdonald’s coffee, I’m not the last person there but Alexia is in the room and shoots daggers at me. I shrug my shoulders, moving to sit next to Ingrid.

“Alexia is really mad, what did you do this time?” She asks, looking at me with a slight smirk.

“I went for a drive to clear my mind. I guess it’s illegal to do that now. I got a coffee though.” She wrinkles her face in disgust.

“Out of all the places to get coffee, you choose the worst one? Honestly kid, please find some place better. Staring at that makes me physically sick.” I roll my eyes.

“I was in a hurry and they call it fast food for a reason. Imagine if I was late? I’m already in trouble.” She nods her head in understanding.

“So, any plans for today or are you going to play Hogwarts Legacy all day.”

“I’m going to watch a movie.” I reply.

“The whole day?” She questions confused.

“Well… I never said I was seeing the movie IN Spain.” She sighs pinching the bridge between her nose.

“That’s not a good idea. Why would you do that?”

“Because I hate subtitles and I don’t want the movie to be in Spanish.” I shrug.

“That’s… a good point. If Alexia finds out you’ve left the country again she’s gonna lose it so have fun and make sure not to tell her you told me.” I nod.

“Will do my friend.” I’ve left the country before, one time to Germany where I accidentally met Georgia Stanway and got drunk with her. And the other time was at the UK in which I got into some nasty fights against some sad Arsenal fans. Like yes I was taunting them but no reason to attack me. I won in the end, obviously.

So if Alexia finds out I’ve left again she will be so mad. I focus my attention to the screen in front of us and listen in on what whatever Jona has to say.

- - - - -

After the session, I quickly make my way out of the room and into my car. I’m almost gone but Alexia is right behind me and she bangs on the window. I groan pulling it down.

“Hi Aleeee.”

“Don’t you ‘Hi Ale.’ me. Where have you been and how long? Do not lie to me.” I sigh.

“I went out on a drive around town, it’s so pretty at night, so excuse me if I want to look at it. Now if you must know. I’m on a tight schedule so, may you please move so I can move?” I ask, she reluctantly agrees and steps back allowing me to drive off to the airport.

(this is rlly fast paced but you can imagine whatever movie you want during the time skip)

- - - - -

It’s currently 5pm, I’ve been out all day the flights were only 2 hours and they were cheap. I don’t know why the others think of this stuff. Maybe I’m just Australian though.

I notice my stomach feels off, but it’s probably because I’m dehydrated and haven’t eaten a proper meal all day. Only a large popcorn and 2 packets of skittles.

I arrive at the grounds just in time and walk in with Sandra. I walk over to my area and get changed into the kit, before walking out onto the field with Lucy.

“You alright mate? You’re pale.” She states.

“I’m good, little tired is all.” I can tell she doesn’t believe me but we walk on.

The session is gruelling, high intensity and does not do anything to help what I’m feeling. Alexia has been pushing me harder than anyone else which is annoying and I low-key want to fall to the ground. That would only result in more laps though.

The 1.5 hour session ends, we have dinner which lasts half an hour than another 45 minutes in the gym. Both of which I am not excited for.

I can’t even think of anything when it happens, I feel bile rise up my throat and I just know that I should’ve eaten a proper meal. I make it into the bathroom in the nick of time, spilling my guts into the bowl. Someone is in here holding my tied back hair but I can’t be bothered to find who.

When I finally stop gagging, I flush the toilet and lean against the wall staring in front of me to find Keira.

“You feel any better or do you want to stay here.” She asks, resting her hand on my cheek. I shrug my shoulders as she sighs.

The door opens again and it’s Lucy.

“Oh, there you guys are. What happened?” Lucy turns to Keira.

“I was walking by the bathrooms and heard someone gagging and here she was throwing up.” She nods her head and I go to stand up.

“NO! No, you are not doing that. What if you throw up again? I’m going to get Alexia. Right now.” Lucy says sternly.

“Nooo, get Ingrid instead? Please Lucy.”

“Fine.” She walks out leaving Keira and I alone again.

“Mind telling me what lead to this moment?” I nod, explaining the staying up all night to not eating any proper food.

“That’ll do it. Can’t believe you just got on a flight to London.”

“It’s not even that long, it’s a great way to spend time. It’s like you saying a 45 minute drive is long. That’s how long it takes for me to get to school when I’m in Australia.” She shakes her head.

“Aussies sense of time is so out of whack I’m telling ya!” The door is opened again as Ingrid and Lucy make their way inside.

Ingrid sighs, “What are we going to do with you huh?” I laugh.

“Come on, let’s get you to the medics and then you can go home. I’ll drive your car and before you say anything we will be telling Alexia.” I nod, knowing there’s no escape.

We get to the medical room and Alexia is already there, talking about her knee with one of the physios. She looks over in question, Ingrid pushes me forward while Keira explains everything to the doctor. Who explains for me to eat a proper meal and drink some actual water. Before going to bed to get actual sleep.

Alexia is fuming, muttering many curse words and dragging me out of there. We get our stuff and give my keys to Mapi who nods at the plan of getting my car back home.

- - - - -

We walk through the door and Alexia guides me to the couch.

“I have had enough of this. We need to set some rules ok? You are 16 in a foreign country, you can’t go around to other countries when you fucking feel like it. I don’t care if you didn’t do anything bad but I can’t have you out of this city without me. Got it? As for the night driving, we’ll set a curfew and I expect you to be back by a certain time and you won’t be able to leave until a certain time. I told your parents I’d watch out for you but you are seriously making it hard for me to live up to that.”

“Sorry Ale.” She shakes her head.

“I’m not doing this with you right now. I’m going to make you a proper meal, you will drink 1 litre of water then you are heading straight to bed. No phone, no xbox, nothing until I deem you can be trusted. Am I clear?” I nod, feeling like I was 12 again.

“You might think this is excessive but I care about you. I want you to be safe, I need you to be safe. So please, make it easier for both of us.” Shes pleading now and it makes me feel bad, tears brim at the edge of my eyes and she sits down next to me.

“Amorcita, don’t cry. Por favor.” She rubs my thigh.

“I’m sorry Ale, I didn’t mean to. The night drives just lessen my anxiety about some things, you know. Like therapy.”

“I know, but you can speak to me about it any time if you feel you’re spiraling. Anyone on the team. Don’t do stupid things to get us to notice. Just talk I’m always here.” I sob into her arms, I can feel all the anger she has fade.

“Thanks, this means so much. Again I’m sorry.” She shakes her head.

“Don’t be, but I would like to know why you travelled to England to watch a movie, don’t you hate England?” This has me laughing.

“I mean… I do but in Spain it’s either gonna be in Spanish or have subtitles and I wanted it in English without.” She laughs softly.

“Of course, now how do you feel about Chicken Burgers for dinner? With potato gems.” I nod my head. She gets up and walks into the Kitchen starting to make the food.

Maybe I can start trying, and maybe I am truly cared about more than I thought. This team 🫶.

A/N: I LOVE SICKFICS I HAD TO. if you see any sickfic requested, i probs requested it lol