#timelines jumping all over the place stopping and starting

[angelbitezzz]

yknow that thing where becoming obsessed with a character makes you a better artist? i am feeling it tonight boys

[pomelace]

mouse and the red bull

pairing: frank langdon x afab!intern reader

content warnings: fluff, no physical desciptors used for reader, reader is an intern, doesn't take place during the shows timeline, medical imagery, blood (mention), suggestive tension, let me know if I missed anything!

magui speaks! : I’m such a slut for workplace slowborn romance, especially since I have a major crush on my much older coworker lol. I hope you all love this as much as I loved writing it, I may or may not write a part two. as always, j hope you enjoy!

word count: 2021

There’s a particular kind of panic that sets in when Frank Langdon walks through the door—like your brain short-circuits and your coffee sloshes over your knuckles before you even register the burn.

He always arrives at the same time: ten minutes to seven, just before shift change, with his black backpack slung over one shoulder and his sweater dangling from his hand.

The first time you saw Frank, he was arguing with a vending machine. You should’ve known right then he’d ruin your peace.

He’d punched E7 four times before realizing the machine had taken his money and offered no drink in return.

“You’re robbing me in broad daylight,” he muttered. To a vending machine.

You stood ten feet away, pretending to check your phone, pretending not to watch the way his jaw clenched and his shoulders tensed under his black scrubs. How he cursed under his breath and hit the glass—just enough to make the machine rattle, not enough to get written up.

There was something about the way he stood there. Frustrated. Alone. Fighting something small because the big things were too much to name.

Minutes later, he knew your name. Two weeks later, you were his favorite intern.

“Morning,” he says, voice low, right behind you before you even hear him approach.

You nod. Try to answer. End up choking on lukewarm coffee instead.

He leans casually over the counter beside you, the scent of his cologne cutting straight through the sterile air.

“You’re quieter than usual, mouse,” he says, the nickname curling around your throat and making speech even harder.

Mouse.

He called you mouse. His excuse? You worked quietly. A person of few words, but always focused, always reliable. That’s why he kept you close—stealing you away from the other attendings, handpicking you for his rounds, his patients.

He liked you.

Liked the way you listened. No interruptions. No “buts.” Just quiet attention, steady hands, and quick learning.

“I know we’re not supposed to have favorites, but you’re mine, mouse,” he’d whispered once, bent beside you over a deep gash you were stitching, like it was a secret meant only for the thread and your trembling fingers.

“Just tired,” you finally manage, turning your head slightly to meet his gaze.

His blue eyes lock onto yours, sharp and unrelenting. You smile, like you always did when it came to him.

Then your eyes drop to his hand. Empty. No Red Bull, for once. He always had one in the morning—more times than you could count on your fingers.

“Vending machine’s empty,” he says, like he’d read your mind.

“No drinking yourself into cardiac arrest today, thank god,” you blurt out before your brain had time to veto it.

He chuckles, but you see something flicker across his face—surprise, maybe. Like you’d caught him off guard for once.

“You gonna start rationing my caffeine intake now?”

“Someone has to,” you reply, tone light, even as your pulse jumps.

He leans in slightly, like he might say something else—something to make your breath hitch.

“If my heart ever stops, I know I can count on you to start it again,” he whispers.

You freeze, cup in hand, half-turned toward him. It was nothing. Meant nothing. Just a compliment. A nod to your competence, your training. Textbook professional.

And yet your pulse flutters in your throat like it’s already preparing to fail.

“Don’t give me a reason to,” you say, quieter than you mean to. Steady, but barely.

He smiles. That same crooked, effortless smile that never quite reaches his eyes.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, mouse."

You turn away before he can see what that nickname does to you—how it slinks under your skin, curls up in the hollow of your ribs like it belongs there.

The coffee’s gone cold in your hands, but you take a sip anyway. Bitter. Grounding.

Behind you, the silence stretches. Not awkward. Not quite. Just full.

“Good morning,” a voice cuts between the two of you, slicing clean through the moment. It gives you both an excuse to look away.

Dr. Robby walks towards you, coffee in hand, his gaze flicking between you and Frank with a hint of curiosity.

“Mind rounding everyone up for morning rounds?” he asks Frank, setting his cup down by his computer.

Frank gives a small nod, brushing past you with the faintest graze of his hand agaisnt your back. It could’ve been accidental. You both know it wasn’t.

“On it,” he says, already halfway past the nurses station.

You keep your eyes on the counter, pretending to study the steam curling up from Dr. Robby’s coffee. Anything but let your gaze follow Frank.

Dr. Robby takes a sip, watching you over the rim of his cup.

“Everything alright?”

You nod, too quickly. “Of course.”

But your voice doesn’t sound quite like your own.

𐔌 ﹒ ⋆ ꩜ ⋆ 𓂃 ₊ ⊹

After rounds, just like always, Frank asks for you—claiming your time before any of the residents or even Dr. Robby could pull you into a case.

His hand rests lightly on your back as he guides you, steering you toward one of the rooms. As you walk, he explains the case in detail—his voice low, confident, precise.

You try to focus on his words—the vitals, the imaging, the differentials—but it’s hard not to feel the warmth of his hand through the thin fabric of your scrubs.

“This one’s tricky,” he says, glancing sideways at you.

“Thought you’d like it.”

You hum in response, trying to sound neutral, professional.

“You mean you thought I could handle it.”

A small smile plays on his lips. “Same thing, isn’t it?”

You don’t answer. Not right away.

Inside the room, a patient waits—young, pale, anxious. A dinner fork juts out just above their collarbone, the prongs buried deep in soft tissue of their neck, surrounded by a bloom of dried blood. It’s an ugly wound, surreal in its domestic absurdity.

You slip into your role with practiced ease, letting your voice settle into something calm and clinical. You feel his eyes on you as you speak to the patient. Not in the way that makes you self-conscious, but in the way that makes you hyper-aware. Seen.

The patient shifts, wincing as you approach, and you take a steadying breath, refocusing. You reach out to examine the wound, careful, methodical. The metal feels cold beneath your gloved fingertips, the jagged edges of the fork pressing against the skin like it belongs there.

“Stay still,” you murmur, your tone soothing, even though your mind races through protocols and possibilities.

"We should get her to X-rays," you say to Frank, your voice steady, before turning back to the patient.

"From there, we can figure out the next steps."

You meet the patient’s anxious gaze, offering a reassuring smile.

"The X-rays will help us check for any underlying damage—nerves, blood vessels, anything important that might be caught between the fork. We just need to be cautious."

You remove your gloves slowly, methodically, your movements deliberate as you step aside to give Frank room to take the lead. His words fade into the background, your focus narrowing to the way his lips move, the steady rhythm of his hands as he works.

It’s almost like you're watching him in slow motion, and for a moment, nothing else exists except the quiet hum of the room.

"Hey," Frank's voice cuts through, pulling you back to the present. You meet his gaze, steady and intense.

"Get her line in for the X-ray, and everything else looks good. If you’re up for it, I might just let you pull this one out," he says, his tone casual.

A smile tugs at your lips, excitement flickering in your eyes as you nod, barely containing the rush of adrenaline.

You walk away, the tablet pressed close to your chest as you make your way toward the nurses' station.

The X-ray comes back clear—no major damage, no vessels hit. The fork is safe to remove, and Frank’s words bring excitement to your face.

You stand over the patient, gloved hands moving automatically as you adjust the patient, positioning her on her side.

The fork is lodged in the side of her neck, gauze wrapped around the area, the injury fully exposed under the bright light overhead.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Frank says, standing across from you, his eyes focused, though his posture tenses slightly.

You nod, wiggling your fingers inside the gloves, shaking off the rush of adrenaline. You take a steadying breath. You move closer, fingers gripping the fork carefully as you prepare to remove it.

Slowly, you ease the fork out, steady and controlled, until it slips free. You drop it into the metal tray with a soft clang. A small smile tugs at your lips as you glance at the patient.

“It’s out,” you say gently, already reaching for gauze to clean the wound.

You move with practiced care, cleaning the area and checking for any sign of bleeding. Once you’re done, you step back and peel off your gloves, your eyes finally lifting.

Frank’s already watching you, a faint smile on his face.

He doesn’t say anything—but he doesn’t need to. You can tell. He’s happy with your work.

After checking in with the patient one last time, you both step out into the hallway.

“So, how did that feel?” Frank asks, his tone casual but curious.

“Great,” you say, unable to hide your grin.

“Really great.” The excitement still buzzes in your chest, warm and electric.

He watches you for a moment, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes—then he looks away.

“Good. Now get the prescription written and the discharge papers ready,” he says, his voice shifting—firm, all business again.

That familiar sharp edge returns to his expression, like the moment between you never happened.

You follow his instructions without hesitation—talk the patient through her prescription, explain the aftercare, hand her the discharge papers.

Once everything’s done and she’s officially discharged, you walk her out of the room, offering a kind goodbye as a nurse takes over and escorts her down the hall.

Frank’s at the nurses’ station when you spot him, hunched slightly over a computer, his focus locked on the screen. You hesitate for a beat, debating whether to approach.

But you do.

“She said thank you,” you offer, stopping beside him.

He doesn’t look up. Just hums, eyes still glued to whatever’s on the monitor.

“You did a good job,” he says, flatly—no warmth, no real inflection. It lands wrong, and you feel it immediately.

A small twist in your gut.

You turn to leave, footsteps already starting to shift away, but something keeps you rooted. You pause, then glance back at him.

“Did I do something wrong?” you ask quietly, not sure if you're overthinking or missing something important.

He finally looks at you.

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes—guilt, frustration, maybe even regret—but it’s gone before you can name it. He straightens up, pushing a hand through his hair.

“No,” he says. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You nod, unsure if that settles it or not. The air between you still feels off. You glance at the counter, then back at him.

“I, um…” You reach into the pocket of your surgical pants and pull out a cold can of Red Bull.

“You said you couldn’t get one this morning and I guess I want to support your unhealthy relationship with caffeine today.”

He blinks, then actually smiles—small, real, the kind that barely lifts the corners of his mouth but feels like more than any words he’s said today.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, but he takes it anyway, his fingers brushing yours for just a second too long.

“I know,” you say simply, trying not to let the warmth in your chest show on your face. “But I wanted to.”

He looks down at the can, then back at you, like he’s trying to say something without saying it.

“Thanks,” he says quietly.

And for the first time today, it feels like he actually means it.

©pomelace 2025

[tpwk-formula1]

Could you please write a story where lando x reader have basically 'adopted' keegan (even tho he's like 3 yrs younger than them) and she hates whenever they make him do dangerous stuff

AN: SPECIAL EXTRA FLUFF POST!!!! (I know I said I wasn't gonna post a fluff this week but this came in and I got too excited so I quickly wrote it before work! NOT proof read!

OMG stop I absolutely love this idea!! I stopped writing a fic to get this one started! I did switch timelines just a big to make the story work so pretend the video on Quadrant where Keegan tried Karting for the first time happened after summer break!

TW: NONE

WC: 1.1K

Y/N POV

"Keegs, have you eaten anything today?" I ask walking up to him with the sandwich I had made for him before we had left for the yacht day.

"I had breakfast," he says softly knowing we had eaten over 6 hours ago and he had been outside all day in the sun.

"Keegan, you're an athlete stop being stupid," I laugh while tossing him the sandwich which he great fully took and started eating it.

"He's a grown man, love. Let him live," Lando tells me softly while approaching me from behind and taking me into his hold.

"You too Norris, sit down and eat," I say while passing him the second sandwich which has him groaning but instantly sitting next to Keegan and starts eating his sandwich.

"Whipped," I hear Max Fewtrell say from somewhere else on the yacht making me shake my head and threaten him with the last sandwich in hand.

"You and P are such moms," Max rolls his eyes while taking the food from me and sitting next to his best friend.

Over the last year or so the friendship between Lando and Keegan had grown from more than just a sponsored athlete to a truth friendship. When the younger boy started coming around it was almost instant that my motherly instincts kicked in with him.

I mean hell when he called us after winning gold at the Paris Olympics I hadn't stopped crying from podium. He still laughs about it and even pokes fun but he has also on multiple occasions expressed how thankful he to have Lando and I in his life.

Once the yacht day has come to an end we make our way back to the house we had rented for the week.

"We're going cliff jumping tomorrow, do you guys want to come?" Martin's friends asked the rest of us when we had made it back to the house.

"No," I instantly say a long with P while all the boys instantly say "yes" making me look directly at them.

"Have you all lost your damn mind? 1 of you is in contract for racing which mind you comes back in just a few weeks and the other just came off of Olympic gold, you need to be fucking careful," I start ranting while Martin starts laughing at the group dynamic not expecting anything less from us.

"It's fine, we'll be fine," Lando reassures me making me me shake my head.

"Get Zak's approval and then it's fine," I say with a smirk and a little shoulder shrug knowing his boss would lose his ever living mind if he found out his young driver is trying to do something so dangerous.

"Please! I promise we wont get hurt," Lando begs giving me his puppy dog eyes I have never been able to say no to, a long with Keegan behind him giving me the same look.

"Okay fine, but I swear to God if you get hurt," I say while pointing a finger before the two boys.

With that the broke out in bright smiles and Lando instantly took me into his arms and places a few kisses on my lips.

We're now coming to the end of our trip when Lando and I are relaxing in bed having some much needed downtime when a knock rings out through our room.

"Come in," I call out grabbing my bookmark and putting the book I was reading to the side.

When Keegan walks in he has a nervous expression written all over his face.

"What's wrong?" I ask sitting up a bit taller making Lando sit up a bit more noticing the serious expression written across the younger man's face.

"Can I ask for some advice?" Keegan says while walking into the room and closing the door behind him.

"Of course, you can sit on the bed," I say laughing a little when I noticed him awkwardly standing near the end of the bed.

"So I've been talking to this girl," Keegan starts while sitting on the bed.

"Aye! My man," Lando says excitedly while dapping Keegan up making his cheeks grow even redder.

"Well anyways, her name is Ella and we've been talking for awhile and I want to make it official but I'm nervous she might say no and I also need ideas on how to plan the perfect date to ask," Keegan admits making me smile. While it might have been Lando's first time hearing about about Ella, Keegan had already come to me about her and from what I had gathered he really liked her and she seemed really sweet.

After about an hour of planning the most perfect date for Keegan to take Ella on he thanked up both before leaving the room with a bright smile on his face.

"That's my son for real," Lando says laughing making me shake my head with a laugh falling from my lips.

"He's such an awesome kid," I reply back before cuddling closer into Lando's side.

"Did you pull the same move on Carlos when you where asking me out," I tease with a smirk on my face.

"Maybe," Lando admits with his cheeks reddening.

It's been a few weeks since summer break and we already have a week off from racing which means it's time to film for Quadrant and as we pull up to the track both Lando and Max have been suspiciously quiet about what we will be filming.

When we pull up to the track I see Keegan almost instantly making everything click for me.

"No! He is not about to hope in a kart without any training!" I say sternly making Max laugh and Lando turn and give me a reassuring smile.

"He's fine, he can drive a car, he can drive in a few circles on a kart," Lando says but it just makes me groan and throw my head back.

Lando did end up giving Keegan a small run down before filming and once he was in the first Kart I could already feel my stomach drop. He was going as fast as his car will allow him to go but you can see the difference between Lando's control of the Kart and his control but after the first lap he was able to adjust and already looked more comfortable.

As the karts got faster the more I go stressed. Keegan was clearly having an amazing time in the karts but my anxiety is going through the roof.

By the end of the video it is clear to all of us that Keegan loved every moment of it and even asked the next time he could drive one.

When the video was posted fan instantly clung to the fact that I was like a mom to Keegan. I mean an entire compilation was made where it was every moment I made a comment, face, or gasp throughout the short video making fans across F1 laugh at the endearing moments between friends.

------

Sorry it feels a bit rushed I just loved the idea and might even circle back around in the future and add to the story

[reysdriver]

Keeping It Quiet | E.M.

Eddie comes to visit you when everyone is sleeping... or so you thought — eddie x fem!hopper!reader fluff

warnings: suggestive content, making out, fear of getting caught, jokes about guns/getting shot

words: 1.7k

a/n: idgaf about timeline or continuity with the show when I do this series of oneshots, it's just kind of an alternate version of the show where Hopper is still here around the events of season 4 ig (also I LOVE this gif of joseph omg)

It was late at night, but you weren’t sleeping. You were taking advantage of the quiet house and catching up on some reading that finally wasn’t for school. You laid with the book at the foot of your bed, and your feet dangling over your pile of stuffed animals right by your pillows. 

It was so comfortable, you forgot about the world around you. 

And you were only brought back by the terrifying sound of someone knocking on your window. It scared you right out of your haze, at least until you looked outside and realised who it was. 

Eddie was standing right outside your bedroom wall with a stupid grin on his face, and he was pointing to the windowsill, wordlessly asking you to let him in. 

After rolling your eyes and marking your spot in the book, you got up and opened the window for your boyfriend. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked, leaning over the separation to peck his lips quickly. 

“Not quite the warm welcome I was expecting.” He grunted, using the log you had placed under your window to climb in your room. “You’re not happy to see me?”

“You scared the hell out of me ‘cause you didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

“I didn’t know I was coming over until I was already in my van. I haven’t seen you in forever, plus I had something I wanted to show you.”

The last part was intriguing, but you still wanted to correct his dramatics. You’ve learned that if you didn’t act as the voice of reason sometimes, he would start believing his own exaggerations.

“It’s been two days since you last saw me.” And it didn’t take long for you to give in to whatever he was hiding. “But what is it that I have to see?” 

He let out an exaggerated sigh as he flopped down on the end of your bed. He looked up at you with fake sadness. “I should have known you would only like me for material things, Madonna.” 

“So what if I was a material girl? You’d still love me anyways.” 

He started speaking like he was in the school play, which he would never do. “It’s just sad—”

You jumped towards him to cover his mouth with your hand. As much as you loved his antics and would encourage it at any other time, it was all quiet in your house and you were petrified of waking your family. 

“Are you crazy?” You asked him in a hushed scold. 

He just nodded happily since he couldn’t speak with your hand still over his mouth. 

“If my dad hears you, he’ll burst into the room with a gun in his hand. You might be able to charm the pants off of me effortlessly, but I think you’d get shot if you tried to test your charisma on the chief of police.” 

You cautiously took your hand away from Eddie’s face while he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“Stop looking at me like that and show me what you wanted me to see in the first place.” You told him, sternly but lovingly. 

“Wow, you really are the chief’s daughter.” He joked as he stood up and took off his leather jacket. 

You figured he was just making himself comfortable, but when he started taking off the t-shirt he was wearing underneath the coat, you wondered what was really going on. 

Then you saw it. 

On his right side, where his rib cage ends, there was a new tattoo. A flaming sword that you knew was based on his current—and favourite—Dungeons and Dragons campaign of his. 

He pointed to the pommel of the weapon, which was a heart shaped gemstone. 

“Did you see the end? It doesn’t have anything to do with the game, but I designed it while thinking of you.” He smiled at you, and you smiled back. “Do you like it?”

“I love it, Eds.” You answered sincerely. “When did you get it done?”

“Friday. Right after your dad picked you up from the mall.”

“Did it hurt?”

He shook his head as he gently pushed you back against your pillows, then positioned himself on top of you.

“Not as much as it hurts to be away from you.”

You had to stifle your own laugh at his corniness. As stupid as it was, you did feel kind of flattered by him at that moment. And that’s exactly why you let him kiss you, despite you being just a few decibels away from your sleeping father waking up and grounding you permanently for sneaking a boy in. 

But you pushed all your worries aside and let him press his luscious lips against yours. God, how you couldn’t get enough of that sensation. 

You loved how he kissed you just because he likes to kiss you, how he used flavoured chapstick so he could heal his chapped lips, and how he always tasted faintly of cigarettes and the lemon candies you got him hooked on. 

You loved all that almost as much as what came next. 

When he moved his lips from your mouth to your jaw, and then your neck. He nipped the skin just lightly and then continued to work his magic. You had both noted another time just like this that your bodies must be made for each other, and this exact moment was perfect proof for that claim. 

“Oh, god, Eddie. You’re so good at this.” You praised, trying to keep your voice down. 

He mumbled an ‘mhm?’ against your throat. He was such a sucker for your affirmations. 

“Yeah. Just be careful not to leave a bruise.”

Eddie lifted his head up, causing your face to morph into a frown from the expression of pleasure just a second ago. 

“You don’t want little reminders of my love?” He asked, lips exaggeratedly pouted. 

“Not when my family can see them, loverboy.”

He seemed satisfied with that response, returning his attention to you and practically attacking your neck with his kisses. The way his mouth was worshipping your neck damn near put you in a trance. It was so good that you didn’t even notice the soft knock at your door, nor the opening that followed it. 

When your younger sister called out your name softly, that’s when you realised the importance of not letting your guard down. You tried to push Eddie off of you as he hadn’t seen Eleven there yet, but he got up quickly once he did notice. 

You urged him to sit down and stay silent while you pulled El away from your bedroom and into the bathroom, all while your sister stared at you with a wide-eyed expression. 

Eleven was the first one to speak between you two. “Who was that in your room?”

“That was my friend.” You said, partially honest. He was your friend, he was just also more. “His name is Eddie.”

“What were you and Eddie doing?”

You racked your brain, trying to think of something believable to say that would get your sister off your back. You really should have prepared a lie before this, because it was proving to be more difficult than you would have thought; of course, you never really thought about your sister catching you making out with your shirtless boyfriend.

“We were playing.” You answered as confidently as possible. 

“Playing?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, you know when you and I play-fight, like wrestling? When Dad sometimes thinks we’re hurting each other but we’re really just having fun?”

“So you and Eddie were just having fun?”

“Mhm.” You ran a hand through her hair, feeling somewhat guilty about your lie. “Why? Were you worried about me?”

She didn’t seem fazed at all by your fingers combing through her hair, but her cheeks flooded with pink when you asked if she knocked on your door out of concern for you. 

“I heard you were awake and I wanted to know what you were doing.” Eleven told you. 

It really was nothing embarrassing, she’s just a shy girl. And now you felt less guilty about lying since you know she was just curious rather than upset. 

“Well, I was just playing with my friend. But, don’t tell Dad about Eddie, okay?”

“Why not?”

Another question you didn’t quite have an answer for. Luckily, you were quick enough on your toes that your little sister wouldn’t notice the nonsense spilling from your mouth. 

“You know Dad can be a fun sponge sometimes. Like when he spends an hour questioning your friends before you can hang out, or when he won’t let us turn the couch into a pillow fort. If he hears about Eddie, he won’t let us have fun together anymore, and I would be really sad if I couldn’t see my friend.”

She seemed to be eating your excuse up, knowing exactly what you meant.

“Okay. I won’t tell him.” She agreed. “I don’t want you to be sad.”

“And I don’t want you to be tired, little lady. So, now that you know what you wanted to learn, how about you go back to sleep, okay?”

“Okay, goodnight.”

She opened the slightly creaky bathroom door and headed back to her bedroom, hopefully to fall back asleep soon. 

“Goodnight, El. Sleep tight.” You called in a volume just above the whisper you were using just seconds before.

You stood in the bathroom alone after you heard your sister’s bedroom door close. For a minute, you just listened to everything around your house. The quiet wind blowing outside, the sounds of Eddie flipping through your books as he waited for you to come back, and best of all, not a peep from your father’s room. 

It was safe to return to Eddie in your bedroom and resume the fooling around from before. 

Once you silently pushed open your door, closed it again, and sat down next to your boyfriend on the corner of your bed, he pulled you onto his lap. 

“So, we’re in the clear now?” Eddie asked you. 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean we can be any less careful than usual. That just proves my family can hear us, so let’s not be stupid.”

A flirty grin spread across Eddie’s face as he trailed his fingers under your shirt and up your sides. “Baby, I can’t promise anything. Stupid is my middle name.”

[quitesins]

Sylus Stitches Up Dragon!Reader

Masterlist | Part One | Part Three

Tags: 18+, Sfw, Short, Female!Reader, Non Mc!Reader/Reader is not Mc, Current timeline, Self inflicted injuries [Reader accidentally cuts herself], explicit descriptions of the injury and stitches, am nawttt a medical professional so don’t jump me if this is unrealistic

Another addition to this idea, big fan of Sylus frustratedly taking care of reader yay!

You’ve cut yourself deep enough to need stitches. Sylus holds back a grimace, watching your fat expose like packed rice, blood seeping into the bubbling yellow crevices. He pushes the skin around your gash but you barely react, still sat like a petulant child waiting for his scolding to be over.

Though still irked that you didn’t come to him first— having only found out because you’d soaked through your sleeve— Sylus takes small pride in your restrained frustration. He’d half expected you to lash out, push him aside as soon he noticed your arm. But you let him inspect you.

Initially, when you’d woken up in his base, from a sleep Sylus had to force onto you, your first instinct was to fight. You thrashed at him, throwing whatever you could get your hands on and running with no direction in mind. Sylus followed calmly, batting away each object with his evol, making no moves to use it on you yet. With you caught in a literal corner, Sylus knew his outstretched hand offered no real solace, but he did try to provide the illusion at least.

“It’ll need stitches.” Sylus notes, no room for discussion. He doesn’t let you pull your arm away, the shake of your head meaningless to him. “And don’t pout, I’ll be the one doing them.

You look scandalised, a little betrayed, having taken care of all your injuries alone so far.

When it came to healing, Sylus had to leave you to your own devices. In the time you were knocked out, he’d made sure a doctor did a quick check up, stitching you in the places most urgent and administering a few subduing pain meds. Sylus had attempted to bring the doctor back when you were awake, but you rushed the door as soon as you felt her close. He barely pulled the woman away in time.

You were really starting to irritate him now. He’d been as gentle as he could so far— pacifying a frantic thing in the street, making sure it wouldn’t die there, and using his own damn powers to force your beastly features back in. Sylus was beginning to grow really bored of your temper.

His voice raised for the first time since meeting you, Sylus saying if you really wanted to bleed out and die, be his guest.

Able to think a little clearer with the painkillers keeping you distracted, somehow you felt more scolded than scared.

Through embarrassment, you snatched the medical kit from him and ran back to the room. There was a quiet relief in Sylus that you wouldn’t notice, and a small pity as he watched you seem far too familiar with cleaning yourself up.

-

“Little dragon if you’re thinking of running off again…” Sylus is up, an unseen weight pulling you to follow. “You’ll be reminded I have no problem with putting you to sleep.”

You’re half dragged back to his room, annoyingly sulky but allowing yourself to be lead. He ushers you to his bed, a part of him still granting you comfort, and pulls out a box from his nightstand.

The contents of it clatters about as he starts gather what he needs. You look away when he brings out a syringe. To him it’s quite endearing that you seem afraid of needles.

“Arm.” Sylus doesn’t wait long for you to lay it over his lap, pulling it up himself, gloves already on and prepared.

When the first dose of anaesthetic goes in, you’ve been shot three more times before you can even realise the mistake in your premature relief. The pain is far worse than the initial cut, stabs harder than Sylus’s disciplinary prods, it sears like fire being forced under your skin.

Then it’s stops.

Turning back, Sylus already has a wipe in his hand, cleaning away the mess of your dried blood. It reopens the wound, blood-mixed solution gushing from the source and spilling onto him.

It’s instinct when you go to apologise, but catch yourself before you can. Your malice returns to you, annoyed that Sylus treats you at all. If he wants to look after you so bad, he can take the bodily fluids that come with it.

It’s a bit strange watching the needle push through resisting skin, unable to feel any of it. The black thread looks so frail for a thing that finely pulls together flesh. With each stitch, the large gape disappears into a curiously neat line, as if had never been open in the first place.

Sylus pretends not to notice the intensity of your gaze. You’re just facinated, he can tell, but it still unnerves him. He could stitch you up with his eyes closed, more than practiced on his own skin, but he finds himself taking a little more time to do each one.

After the last knot is tied, but before Sylus can even move back, you’re pressing a finger onto your newly closed wound. You’d been asleep during your previous stitchings, so the lack of sensation despite clear evidence of injury, intrigues you. Sylus has to swat your hand away, plaster in his, ready to be applied.

“Little dragon…” Vexation is not so easily heard on him, Sylus having far too much control to show it in his voice. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want your mornings occupied by daily inspections.” But you somehow bring it out of him. “So don’t give me reason to start.”

I hate dialogue I hate dialogue I hate dialogue dialogue killed my grandmother dialogue beat me over the head with a hammer and kicked me down the stairs

Edit: scratches head I accidentally cut out and forgot to rewrite the exchange where it explains Reader accidentally cut herself on one of her claws.

[brokenmutations]

I love you in every universe

Logan Howlett • She/Her Pronouns • Mutant!Reader [Heightened Senses] • In every universe, broken or not, you will always love Logan Howlett. Even if he thinks he doesn’t deserve it • ANGST/SFW/NSFW - Nudity / Implied Sex • TW: Scars / Nightmares / Alcohol & Drug Consumption / Mentions of Recovery / Depression

“I love you”

Y/N froze in front of the mirror quickly zipping up her suit and turning to Logan.

“What?”

“I love you. I love you so much it hurts” Logan brought himself close, resting his hands on her hips as she places her hands on his chest before grabbing onto his jacket. “I love you Y/F/N Y/L/N since the first moment I laid eyes on you…”

Y/N didn’t utter a word at first as she couldn’t help but start tearing up. She tugged him down by the jacket bringing her lips to his, sealing the deceleration.

~

Logan frowns staring at the ceiling of the bedroom he shared with Wade and Al, both happen to be on either side of him. He wished he was in the same bed as her in this moment but Laura wanted time alone with her mom before she went back to taking jobs in the upcoming week and before Laura went back to the mansion.

“Stop thinking too loud” Wade groans rolling onto his back, taking his pillow and smacking Al to stop snoring. “What’s wrong, peanut?”

“I didn’t even move and you woke up”

“Like he said you thought too loud” Al groans, pointing at the door which prompted Logan to leave to have his loud thoughts out of the bedroom.

He half expected Wade to go back to bed, but the tired Deadpool followed shortly behind him with Dogpool at his feet.

“What were the loud thoughts this time?” Wade slumps over the armrest of the loveseat and slowly slipped into the cushions. Mary Puppins instantly jumping onto his back and circling to get comfortable. “Mmmm Puppins get comfy FASTER”

The Wolverine really feeds into the silent and broody type. He simply didn’t want to talk about it but he knows Wade will…keep it to himself.

…

Maybe not.

“I was thinking of my Y/N…” Logan frowns, resting his head in his hand getting lost in his thought once more but those words intrigued Wade a bit.

“Like…nightmare or…?” Wade lifts his head looking at Logan, growing confused to the concern expression on his face. “Nightmare. Listen, angel baby—-we all get the—-“

“Is it cheating if I fell in love with another version of her?”

If the blinks were audible, the amount of times Wade blinked would be loud enough to wake the neighborhood.

“You’re in love with Y/N???” Wade sat up too fast causing Puppins to fall off with a thud as she grumbles while trotting back to the bedroom knowing Al won’t kick her off. “Logan, this is the best thing to happen. You were destined for each other no matter what timeline or universe or whatever the fuck Marvel created—-It’s meant to be!”

Wade continued to go on a rant about destiny, and how Y/N might have the same kinks as his univer—-oh yeah.

Laura stood in the hallway hearing all of Wade’s rant because she stepped out to tell him to shut up, only to turn back around and head back inside to climb back into bed beside Y/N.

“What was it about this time?” Y/N gave Laura a tired but curious look, only to not receive an answer right away which brought a wave of concern. “What is it, hun?”

“Can’t you hear him?” Laura frowns turning her head toward her mom. “With your mutation”

The lie that brewed in an instant, only got thrown away the second Laura questioned.

“Yeah…I heard them” Y/N shifts to lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling with a blank expression as Laura’s was riddled with concern.

“Do you think…or are you…in love with him?”

“I…I don’t know what I feel. We haven’t…kissed or…things you shouldn’t be doing until you’re 30” Had to bring in the mom talk even if Laura rolled her eyes in response. “I’m still…mourning James even if I know he would want me to move on…”

“It’s been years…he would want you to be happy, mom” Laura frowns, bringing herself to snuggle into her mom as Y/N wrapped her arm around her to bring her closer. “I know it’s…another him but he still has his own sense of self”

“I know, I just want to take this slowly…there’s nothing wrong with wanting that” Y/N hums softly, resting her cheek on top of Laura’s head as she continues to snuggle into her mom. The night finally stilling…

________

“I love you”

Logan couldn’t help but have a shocked expression with hints of ‘are you sure?’ littered in the air. Y/N knew he’s thinking such and nodded. His felt his heart pounding in his chest, prompting him to step closer until there was no space between them.

“Say it again”

“I love you, James”

The tough exterior the Wolverine bares…instantly collapsed and tears started to form as he gently cradles her face in his hands pressing his forehead against hers. Y/N’s hands taking hold of his wrists, her eyes fluttering close.

“I love you…flaws and all”

________

Logan couldn’t help but stare at Y/N talking with their friends at one of Wade’s infamous parties. He looked down for a moment to take a sip of his Coke while fiddling with a chip in his fingers.

Six Months Sobriety

This party of Wade’s was to celebrate such, given after their time in the void he’s been celebrating a lot of the little things lately. Really any excuse to have a party.

“Congrats”

His eyes instantly shot up locking onto Y/N’s as she gave him a warm smile.

“Uh. Thanks…it’s nothin’”

“It’s everything” Y/N assures him, resting her hand on his bicep making Logan flex at first contact before relaxing. “Though I will say for a party to celebrate such, Wade really had to buy all the alcohol he can huh?” She scoffs playfully, earning a chuckle out of the man.

“He just needs excuses to have parties” Logan laughs softly, sipping his drink relaxing more that Y/N decided to stay beside him. “So uhm. Have you taken any jobs lately or…?”

Y/N tensed slightly at the question, bringing her gaze onto her own drink a second. “No…I’ve been too scared to” she admits through a whisper, hearing the shift beside her and the soft thud of a glass being set down. Before she was engulfed gently in Logan’s arms, prompting her to shift toward him and easing into his embrace.

“I won’t let anything ever happen to you like that again” Logan whispers, resting his chin on top of her head feeling her arms snake around his torso and her body relaxing.

After the party…Laura and Wade were passed out on the couch, Al had retreated to her room for a much needed coke break, and that leaves Logan and Y/N to clean up the aftermath. Y/N held the bin trailing behind Logan as he picked up the bottles putting them in there.

“Did Laura drink anything?”

“No, she took the theme of the party to heart and out of respect for you she didn’t have any alcohol” Y/N kept her voice low to avoid waking up anyone. “She’s only tired because she’s training with the X-Men now”

“Really?”

“Really. Which reminds me, she wants you there when she moves in. It’s a big step for her and she would appreciate you being there”

“I’m there” Logan smiles setting in the last few bottles and taking the bin from her to carry out. Y/N smiles warmly at him, grabbing the full trash bags to take out. Both turned to Mary Puppins scratching at the door to be let out. “Guess she can tag along” he scoffs, earning a laugh from Y/N as she grabs the leash for the pup to hook her up before they left.

The pup had a mind of her own dragging Y/N to her favorite spot to do her business, prompting Logan to take the bags from her watching the pup drag her across the street to pee on the tree near the repaired subway entrance.

After entering the alley to toss their trash and recycling, Logan walked over to Y/N noticing her shiver as she waited for Puppins to finish. He shrugged off his jacket and gently draped it over her shoulders, his touch lingering as she slowly turned to him with a smile.

“Thank you…”

“Of course” Logan brought his hands to adjust the jacket on her person, the lingering causing his heart to pound against his chest as her eyes instantly lock to his. She rests her hands gently on his chest bringing herself close resting her head against his chest. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her frame, kissing the top of her head.

Which led her to look up and without waiting another second, Logan leaned into her pressing his lips against hers. Her eyes flutter close when their lips connected. The rapid pounding of his heart relaxing as he melted into the kiss feeling her hands move from his chest to bring themselves on the back of his neck to keep him where he was. Continuing to kiss him, humming contently.

Little did they know Wade was in the fire escape watching the two, knowing he did a good by not cleaning. Well. It would’ve happened anyway at some point of the night. But at least there wasn’t…a huge audience.

After that night, every opportunity that arises Logan or Y/N would initiate either a quick kiss or a heavy make out that would approach the next base but both would stop. Neither were ready just yet.

“I can’t believe my daughter is going to boarding school” Wade, in the full suit, put on the hysterics as he tagged along with Logan and Y/N to help Laura move into the mansion. He instantly wrapped Laura in a tight hug which led her to look at Logan and Y/N pleading him to stop through her gaze while her claws extended.

“Wade, let go of her” Logan warns, crossing his arms and watching Laura start to stab the man making Y/N grimace beside him. “I warned him”

“She’s still going to visit just as much as Yukio and Ellie do” Y/N reassures watching him nod while yanking out Laura’s claws, the second they parted she instantly brought Laura into her arms.

“You’ll visit me too right?” Laura murmurs, gripping tightly on the back of Y/N’s shirt feeling her grasp tighten.

“Always. I will always be around my sweet girl” Y/N whispers to Laura feeling tears start to threaten her waterline as she tried her hardest not to cry. “You’re going to be great” she states, pull back to look at her daughter and feel that weight of fear lift knowing she’ll be safe with the X-Men and change/protect so many lives.

After a few more hugs and forehead kisses from Y/N, Laura parted from her mom and approached Logan who instantly hugged her when she opened her arms.

The two stood there for a while in silence, then a hushed whisper escaped Laura that made Logan tighten around her.

“You’ll take care of her, right dad?”

“Yeah…I’ve got her kid”

After getting her settled at the mansion, the three returned back to the apartments. Wade instantly went into his with a groan and crying out for Althea which could mean two things, coke or cuddles. Honestly, could be both. Logan lingered at his door for a moment debating of calling it a night when he looked at Y/N. Seeing she also lingered for a moment.

“Are you—-“

“You wanna take a walk? See where the night takes us?” Y/N gave him a small smile when asking as he didn’t reply with words, only a small nod and a hint of his own smile.

Walking through New York absent minded was a luxury in its own way. Especially when one knows she will be safe doing so. It was oddly nice going through the city and just enjoying the silence while hand in hand.

Y/N initially wanted to stay in the neighborhood, but quickly got distracted by how far they went that they ended up taking the subway. Logan wrapped his arm around her shoulders keeping her close as he felt her arms snake around his middle. It was late, not many people on the train, but they still kept close as if it was crowded.

Eventually they ended up in Central Park. Why? Who knows. The park at night is something else and Logan couldn’t remember the last time he’s been there, especially from his universe. But Y/N remembers her first time back in New York since everything…

Bringing Laura to Central Park for her first time…seeing the ducks…petting all the dogs…and just enjoying the area

Back then, Y/N would stand on the bridge thinking about James and missing him. But now she stands there with Logan being close and enjoying the night. She doesn’t think about what she misses for a moment and thinks about how much—-

“I love you”

Logan instantly locked eyes with her, not saying it back right away but acknowledging the pounding in his chest easing ever so slightly after hearing her say those words. Y/N didn’t walk away when he didn’t say it back but she cried when he admitted—-

“I fell in love with you the moment I met you again” and the man didn’t hesitate to shed a few tears when saying such. Which brought tears of her own to spill.

The two instantly held onto each other after such, letting go of a lot of emotion built on anxiety and fear alone. But slowly became holding onto one another out of love and a sense of reunion. They both love and will forever have a bond with their universe’s other half, but this was new and different…something they’ve waited for and could only get from them.

Logan kept Y/N close, holding her for what felt like hours…but realistically until it got too late into the night. He held her hand all the way back to the subway then back to their apartments and before he even thought of asking, Y/N pulled him close standing on her tippy toes to bring her lips perfectly onto his.

He didn’t hesitate any longer to pick her up, continuing to kiss her as she stumbles blindly to unlock her door not parting from his lips for a moment. The second the lock kicked, Logan pushed the door open with his foot letting them inside and closing the door with the same foot. Slowly making their way into the bedroom and sharing that moment in private. But let me just say, Wade got the dirty details out of Y/N when he convinced her to take edibles with him.

Being the hour that it was, Y/N laid comfortably naked on top of Logan. Both looking at the window and watching the sunlight spill in as she snuggles her face against his chest sighing contently to the sound of his heartbeat.

“I love you, Y/N” Logan whispers, feeling her shift on top of him getting more comfortable. Feeling the warmth grow in his chest as he looks at her watching her gaze lock onto his.

“I love you too, Logan”

[konigbabe]

PERISH

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x gn!reader Word count: 1.6k Tags/warnings: no y/n; manga spoilers (post Shibuya timeline); canon-compliant; angst; death; emotional breakdown; hurt/no comfort; loss; grief Summary: For the first time in a long time, Satoru Gojo, the epitome of strength, breaks. Happy start of JJKS2 writing week.

event masterlist • masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

November 2018 8 minutes until Satoru Gojo’s unsealing

"Don’t worry, I’ll make it on time. I’m right behind the corner."

"We can wait," Yuji’s voice carries through the car, the static of the Bluetooth speaker occasionally cracking.

It feels like years have passed since you last saw him. Sealed away in the prison realm, Gojo’s state remains a mystery. There’s no telling how being locked in a place where time and space don’t exist can affect even the strongest minds.

That’s what worries you. What if he’ll break? What if he goes crazy on all of you? What if he explodes; wipes you all out with his technique? An endless sea of ‘what if’ swirls inside your mind as you take another turn, the mountains on your left with an ocean view on your right.

"Don’t," you reassure the youngster, "don’t wait any longer."

"You should be here, though," Megumi jumps into the conversation, "You’re closest to that idiot. He’ll want to see you."

His words draw a smile on your lips. It’s finally happening. The sleepless nights are coming to an end with the arrival of your lover.

"Then I’ll just opt for a dramatic entrance while you keep him busy," you respond before tightening your hands on the wheel. A familiar feeling washes over you; sudden knowledge of a new presence. Heart picking up, your eyes search the road for the source while the car’s speed slowly drops.

32 seconds; that’s how long it takes you to locate the source. A curse spirit manifestation stands in the middle of the road, blocking you. Its small hunched build stands a mere meter above the ground; four arms decorated by translucent fins hanging by its body, the prehnite skin glistening in the last rays of today’s sun, giving off a wet, moist appearance.

"Boys," you announce, stopping Yuji’s and Megumi’s bickering while still keeping up the cheerful, light voice in an attempt to not raise suspicions about your current predicament, "don’t wait any longer. Unseal Satoru and stop worrying ‘bout me. It’ll be fine."

Bringing the car to a slow halt, Yuji’s tone shifts into a more attentive one as your name seeps through the speaker before you hang up after one more reassurance.

As you step out of the vehicle, the curse's malevolence engulfs the air, almost tangible in its intensity. It clings to the atmosphere like a poisonous fog, penetrating your senses with a pungent sulfuric odor that threatens to overwhelm you.

Your hand slips inside your jacket to retrieve a carefully preserved seal, reserved for such precarious situations; just like this one.

"I’m sorry," with every footfall, the curse seems to shrink in size, yet its malicious nature grows stronger, the smell of sulfur almost suffocating, "but I’m in a hurry right now and you," pointing the parchment paper towards the spirit, "are in my way."

Swift and precise, your movements carry an aura of practiced precision. With little effort, you firmly press the seal upon the spirit's head, causing it to stumble momentarily before dissipating into thin air, vanquished by the power contained within the sigil.

Yet, the energy lingers.

Stronger than before. Stronger than a second ago. Its absent defense, non-existent attempt to fight or flee…it all makes sense now —

A powerful grip; a strong hand adorned with talons as keen as the finest blades dig into your shoulder as an inhuman force pushes you to the side.

As you're thrust aside, your vision catches a subtle glimmer of chrysolite, a hue that seeps into your perception; its scales are sturdy, each edge honed to a dangerous sharpness. Driven by instinct and the will to protect yourself, you reach out, your hand making contact with the curse spirit’s scaly hide.

The jagged edges of its scales cut into the delicate flesh of your fingers, leaving trails of crimson in their wake.

— it was a decoy.

Your body collides with the unforgiving side of the mountain, back meeting the rough and unyielding surface. A symphony of pain resonates within your bones, their structural integrity compromised as multiple cracks reverberate through your form.

Gasping for breath, your body instinctively seeks solace, but find none amidst the terrain. The curse doesn’t wait either. Swiftly moving forward, it lunges at you. Unforgiving. With a clear intent to strike. To kill.

During Satoru Gojo’s unsealing

There is no pain. The moment the curse’s hand breaches the barrier of your chest, you expect it. Expect some kind of visceral reaction. But there’s none — a gentle pinch, akin to a fleeting touch when the sharp claws first pierce through the protective layers of your breastplate. A slight discomfort upon the feeling of having a foreign object that’s found its place within the confines of your ribs. The barrier of your rib cage offers minimal resistance, yielding to the relentless advance that seeks to reach the very core of your being. The heart.

It all feels confusing.

"Kenjaku sends his regards," it whispers, the words slurred by the razor-sharp fangs that protrude from its mouth.

October 31, 2018 — 8:09 PM

"What’s the worst that can happen?"

Satoru saunters around the corner of the table, his presence punctuated by the audible slurping of juice from a small cartoon container. All while your palms rest on top of the said furniture, fingernails tapping at the surface.

The news has spread fast through the jujutsu community, faster than wildfire. Whispers of an unknown curtain cast around Shibuya an hour ago, trapping all non-sorcerers, innocent civilians, inside its insidious grasp with only one demand: Bring Satoru Gojo.

"Don’t say it like that, Satoru," you turn to face the man whose casual and dismissive demeanor only adds fuel to the worries setting inside your bones.

"They’re a bunch of curses," his hand finds its place on your hip bone while placing the empty container away, "Some special grades, yeah, but they’re weak compared to me. I’ll deal with them, save some people in the meantime, and bam," he snaps his fingers loudly, "We can go home. Get that sunset date you’ve been babbling about. Life is good," he finishes with a kiss on the crown of your head.

Life is good.

You watch the sun dip below the horizon behind the curse spirit’s back, indulging the sinister being in a halo glow.

Yeah. In the end, life was good.

2 hours and 48 minutes after Satoru Gojo’s unsealing

For a moment, he stands still. Unable to look down; frozen in time. The weight of it all seems to bear down upon his shoulders – now that Sukuna’s taken over Megumi’s body, Nanami’s and Yaga’s death, Suguru’s body being used as a vessel, the slow crumbling fall of the Jujutsu world – and now you; being gone.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer of the current time. Yet even his immense power proves futile as the people he loves keep dying on him…because of him.

A burden that threatens to crush him beneath its insurmountable gravity.

The air around him hangs heavy with sorrow, as if the very essence of grief has manifested itself in the atmosphere. A storm of emotions swirls within him; a combination of disbelief, anguish and a gnawing ache that gnashes at the core of his being.

He clenches his fists, fingers trembling with a mixture of sorrow and determination. In that agonizing moment, he finds the strength to finally lower his gaze, to confront the devastating truth that lies at his feet.

Everyone holds their breaths, the weight of his misery echoing in the silence as his eyes meet the lifeless visage of the one he holds dearest.

Of you.

Hand reaching out, his fingers graze the once-soft flesh of your hand; now cold and stiff. It serves as a confirmation of reality. There’s no getting you back, no way Shoko can nurture you back to health with her technique.

You’re gone.

And in that harrowing instant, the façade crumbles. The walls he built to contain his pain come crashing down, and Satoru Gojo, the epitome of strength, breaks.

Crumbling down on his knees, the vulnerability that spills forth from his broken form is raw and unrestrained. Only a handful of those closest to him stand behind to witness the symphony of torment that pierces the silence. Tears stream down his face, each drop carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken words, moments you two could’ve spent together.

One hand covering his mouth to silence the guttural sounds, the other reaches out to you, tenderly cradling your lifeless head upon his lap. He clings to the fragile hope that if he could provide just enough warmth and love, you might return to him.

Yuji looks around the room, at the people who silently observe their friend fall apart. Taking a step towards the hunched man, a soft grasp stops him mid step; Kiyotaka shakes his head, pushing his glasses back in place as Shoko looks down. For the first time, she’s unable to figure out her classmate, her childhood friend, the man whose side she’s always stayed by.

"Gojo," Yuji doesn’t allow Kiyotaka to stop him. Believing in what’s right, he stands behind his teacher’s back.

Hand laying on the tense muscle of his shoulder, he doesn’t attempt to comfort Satoru with any words — no words in this universe would bring you back anyway. Instead, his hand just rests there. Unmoving. Gentle.

"Who did it," his words cause Shoko to look back up as Satoru, stone-faced and stoic, speaks in a firm, devoid voice. Imagines of unspeakable horror flashes in his mind as he stands up, towering over the wide-eyed Yuji.

"Tell me now," his eyes search Kiyotaka’s, voice filled with undeniable authority, "I’ll kill them, kill them all."

[itsnoones-stuff]

Her

Part one

Masterlist

Summary // your the sister Five never knew he had, home from the apocalypse he starts to fall for you.

Context // you’re both young teenagers

//

“Who’s that?” Five whispers to his six other siblings as they all sit around the kitchen table, unable to peel his eyes away from you as you stand at the counter making the boy’s sandwiches, they all shoot him a confused look, glancing at your back as you hum quietly to yourself. “That- that’s Y/N, Five” Allison answers, pointing in your direction. “That’s your sister”, Five stays silent, watching as you place sandwiches in front of your brothers, almost flustered when you place a peanut butter sandwich in front of him. Unsure if he’s in the right timeline or if he made another miscalculation. He almost looks at you with love in his eyes as you offer him a cup of freshly pressed coffee, clearing his throat he mumbles“thanks” watching as you nod and smile in acknowledgement.

After handing all your brothers their drinks you turn your attention back to the counter, cleaning up the mess that was made. Five took a bite of his sandwich as his siblings sat staring at him, waiting for him to explain where he’s been. “So Five…” Luther speaks, clearly getting frustrated at his brother’s nonchalant attitude, Five puts his sandwich down, taking a sip of coffee and nodding lightly too himself. Allison asks the question you’ve all had since he came home, “Five where have you been?” Looking around at his siblings, he lets out a small sigh “well, I’ve been stuck in the apocalypse for 45 years”. 

You listen as Five explains how made it back, not fully understanding what he’s saying but you understand enough. Your siblings sit silent for a moment, trying to process what has just been said to them before Diego chooses to speak up “that doesn’t make sense” a puzzled and slightly pissed off look on his face, Five is quick to snap back “well, it would make sense if you were smart Diego” you can’t help but giggle at quick remark, turning away so your siblings don’t see, Five saw you, smiling a little wider, happy you enjoyed his remark.

“I’m heading up” you speak, momentarily breaking the tension in the room as Diego loses his temper at his brother. “Okay sweetheart” Klaus coos as you stroll past them, unable to deal with anymore arguments after your fathers funereal.

Sitting on the fire escape you sing softly to yourself, carefully placing a cigarette between your teeth and raising your light. Sparking, you take a long drag, filling your lungs with smoke, tilting your head back and taking it all in. Unable to hear your brother Five climbing out his window and onto the fire escape, a duffle bag on his shoulder, he stops, taking you in for a moment. He can’t help it, you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. “You shouldn’t smoke, your too young” he speaks, startling you, you chuckle at his words. Five smiles to himself, the sound of your laughter sending waves through his body, you watch him, unable to help but notice his outfit change. An oversized suit to his old school uniform, the two of you match. He notices you looking after a moment, cheeks turning a soft shade of pink as he blushes. Without another word Five steps over you, continuing his journey down the fire escape, you watch him go, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

As the night crept in, you sit on the fire escape once again, cigarette in hand, taking long deep drags as you lose yourself in thought. The sound of a bag falling to the floor brings you back. Startled, you turn your to Fives window, hearing faint heavy breathing, quickly putting out your cigarette you stand, walking over to his window and crouching down. Watching him jumping around his room, a bloody stained uniform temporarily flashing into view, he’s been shot. You tap lightly on his window, a small chuckle leaves your lips as he jumps at the sound. Five sighs, walking towards the window and opening it, clearly stressed.

“Are you okay?” You ask, climbing inside and trailing behind the boy, trying to look at his wound “yeah” he mumbles, picking up a needle and thread. Quickly taking them from his hands and ignoring his protests you usher him to the bed, watching as he begrudgingly complies.

Five watches as you prepare the needle and take a wipe from the first aid kit sat on his desk, you motion for him remove his jacket, watching closely as he does “is it still in there?” You mumble, gently taking his lower arm to look closer, he doesn’t reply for a moment, admiring your soft features and kind nature. “Five?” You ask tilting your head up to look at the flustered boy, he clears his throat and shakes his head “no I took it out” he points to the bedside table, blood soaked bullet fragments laying in a ball of tissue.

You watch closely as Five sighs before nodding, signalling you to begin stitching him up, jerking as you push the needle in. Finishing up the last stitch you mumble “almost done” he nods in acknowledgment, silently celebrating to himself. Cutting the thread you drop the needle on the side table, standing and turning to the first aid kid, grabbing a bandage for Five’s arm, he watches you intently, you’re hypnotic. He feels almost drunk in your presence. You snap him back to reality with a smile, bandage in hand “are you okay?” You ask, noticing him zoning out. He nods, watching as you place the bandage on his arm “thanks for your help princess” you freeze for a moment, sure, your other siblings call you ‘sweetheart’ but you didn’t expect Five to call you that. “No problem” you mumble, stepping back and offering the cute boy a smile “goodnight” you say, turning to the door “goodnight princess.” He says it again, sending waves through your body, you silently leave and head for your room, blushing lightly at the nickname. “Princess”. It sounds so sweet when he says it.

//

[xannypiretz]

Prompt: a little shopping trip with Billie turned into a whole internet debacle. Now your phone is blowing up and oop….. everyone knows you are dating Billie apparently

The day started like any other. Billie grabbed her oversized hoodie, you threw on a beanie, and together, you slipped into the comforting anonymity of a grocery store. The plan was simple: stock up on snacks, maybe pick out a few candles, and just enjoy the mundanity of it all.

Billie, being herself, managed to turn even aisle browsing into a whole event. She pushed the cart like a race car, spinning it around corners while you rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop laughing. Every so often, she’d throw random items into the cart just to see your reaction—a jar of pickled eggs, an inexplicably large pack of glitter pens, a garden gnome you were certain had no place in either of your homes.

As you stood debating between two different brands of ice cream, the quiet day took a sharp turn. A sudden shuffle of movement at the entrance caught Billie’s attention, her expression hardening as she spotted a group of paparazzi. They swarmed like bees, cameras flashing and voices overlapping as they shouted her name.

She let out a long sigh but didn’t shy away. Instead, she tightened her grip on the cart and walked right toward them, her arm brushing yours.

“Billie, any comment on the rumors about your new song?” one of them shouted.

Another jumped in. “Are you dating anyone? Fans want to know!”

Without missing a beat, Billie smirked. “I’m more than satisfied with what I’ve got, thanks,” she said casually, her tone sharp enough to draw silence from the crowd. She turned to you briefly, her expression softening in a way that felt like it was meant just for you. “And my song ‘Lunch’? Yeah, that should clear everything up.”

You could feel your cheeks heat up as the realization hit. She didn’t even try to dodge the question. She was saying it—out loud, in public.

It wasn’t long before Twitter was set ablaze. Billie Eilish had basically just confirmed she was in a relationship, and her fans were spiraling, dissecting every lyric of “Lunch” and speculating wildly about the mysterious girlfriend she’d hinted at.

By the time you got home, the chaos online had reached new heights, with hashtags trending and memes flooding your timelines. But Billie didn’t seem fazed. She plopped onto the couch, scrolling through her phone with an amused smirk before casually tossing it aside.

You sat down beside her, still reeling. “You realize what you just did, right?”

She grinned, leaning her head against your shoulder. “Yeah, and it feels pretty damn good.”

Later that night, as you both lay sprawled across the couch, her arm draped lazily over your waist, you heard the familiar click of her phone camera.

“Billie—” you started, but she was already typing something.

Moments later, her Instagram story popped up on your feed. A candid photo of the two of you—her grinning like an idiot, you mid-protest, eyes soft despite your exasperation. The caption?

“All the rumors are true.”

The internet exploded. But all you could focus on was Billie beside you, her laughter echoing through the room, her hand laced with yours.

[hellodarling1357]

Tiny Toes: Part 7 - Cassian x Reader

Hello hello hello!! It's only been...five months... (sorry) but I am back and have some goodies lined up for you all.

To get us started, here's the next, long-awaited part of Tiny Toes - I did see everyone's messages and they all meant so, so much. You have no idea! So thank you for all your kind words and encouragement!

I've schooched away from the timeline a bit with this one and jumped ahead a little, I might be bouncing back and forth while I get back into the rhythm of things but everything will line up in the end.

Please let me know your thoughts, seeing all of your comments and messages truly make my day and inspire me to keep writing!

Enjoy 🥰

Word Count: 7k (oohh it's a long one!!)

You can read the previous part here

Recent news of disturbances throughout the Continent had sent the High Lords into a state of panicked caution – memories of Hybern and Amarantha still raw in the aftermath of the war. As a result, Rhysand and the rest of his inner circle had been staying in the Dawn Court at Thesan’s palace, alongside the other High Lords and their courts, as they debated what to do next and planned how best to stay on top of the situation to prevent further conflict from crossing into Prythian’s shores.

Unfortunately for both you and Ottie, this meant Cassian’s absence was now pushing into its fifth week. Selfishly, you wanted him home with you; had you had a say, you would have never wanted him to leave in the first place. Cassian had also been reluctant to go, memories of the teary farewell still made your heart throb, however, he would never be able to live with the guilt of abandoning his duties and responsibilities to both his High Lord and Court. Even though you knew it was for the best, that didn’t stop the longing ache that came from missing him so desperately. You hadn’t realised it was even possible to miss someone this much, yet this had been the longest the two of you had been apart since falling into each other’s lives, the longest Cassian had ever spent away from Ottie, and you found everything slightly off kilter and as though it was all at a standstill without him by your side.

In Cassian’s absence, Ottie had very quickly wormed her way into his side of the bed. Usually, the two of you discouraged her from doing so, cherishing the limited time you had to simply be together at the end of the day without the interruption of a small, yet demanding, child, as well as Cassian’s taxing duties as General and your own work. However, waking up that first morning without Cassian in cold, unrumpled sheets had you quickly agreeing when Ottie had asked if she could have a sleep over with you.

The goodbyes had been hard. You had all decided to make the most of the day that Cassian was set to leave as the inner circle weren't required to get to the Dawn Court until later that night. The three of you had woken up early to make pancakes and Cassian’s special hot chocolate before heading out into Velaris to walk along the Sidra and grabbing lunch at your favourite little café that overlooked the shimmering water.

Upon returning home, Ottie had announced that she needed exactly 23 minutes to prepare as she ushered you and Cassian into the kitchen, closing the doors firmly behind her. Neither of you said much in those 23 minutes, choosing instead to bask in the silence, only interrupted by a few bumps and Ottie’s hurried “everything’s fine”, and being in one another’s company. Cassian had leant against the kitchen counter, pulling you snuggly into his arms and enveloping the two of you even closer together as his wings draped around you. In return, you had wrapped your arms tightly around his waist, burying your face into his chest as he pressed kisses to the top of your head.

“I’m going to miss you,” your voice came out muffled as you pressed tighter against him, willing away the tears that had started to trek down your cheeks.

“I’d hope so.”

You looked up, ready to chastise him for not returning the sentiment but instead found yourself crumbling even further at the emotion you found on his face. There was too much happening for words, the unknown of when he would be home as well as the unknown of what may lay ahead if what was happening on the Continent turned into a bigger threat. So instead, you lifted your hands and gently wiped away his tears, heart fluttering as Cassian turned to press a chaste kiss to your palm that rested against his cheek, his eyes refusing to leave yours as he let out a shaky breath. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you leant up on your toes, relishing in the feel of his arms tugging you even closer against him as he spun the two of you around and lifted you up onto the counter, your legs habitually wrapping around him as you pulled him closer so as to capture his lips with your own.

“Okay! I’m ready. You can come out now,”

Cassian made a disappointed noise at Ottie’s interruption, slumping against and leaning his forehead against your shoulder in defeat.

“Mum! Dad!”

Ottie’s singsong voice was laced with a threatening degree of impatience, making Cassian huff a sigh and quietly comment, “she’s too bossy for her own good.”

You laughed as you reached up to kiss him again before he helped you off the counter, one hand lingering between your shoulder blades as he led you into the living room, or what had once been the living room. In its place, a giant blanket fort had taken over the space with Ottie poking her head out of the opening, her face breaking into a wide grin as she ushered you both inside.

“Where did all these blankets and pillows even come from?” You asked, noting that most of them you had never seen before. Cassian just shrugged in response, eyes narrowing in on what lay in the centre of the rug.

“I’m not even going to ask where you got these, Otts.” Cassian promptly ignored the guilty look that graced Ottie’s face as he picked up one of the choc-chip cookies before making himself comfortable and pulling you down to sit snug against him. You smiled to yourself, realising the display of treats were more than likely from Elain and making note to yourself to ask your friend when she had dropped them off to figure out exactly how long Ottie had been storing them for.

“So, what’s the plan?” Cassian asked Ottie as he held out his half-eaten cookie for you to share. Ottie simply pointed to the large pile of games with a wicked grin on her face that had you both rolling your eyes, realising she expected you to play every single one.

*****

“You know,” Ottie started, as she slumped against Cassian’s chest from where she sat in his lap. “It would be a lot easier to play if there were more of us.”

“Hmm? How do you mean?” You absentmindedly asked, placing down your cards and smugly grinning across at Cassian and Ottie as you scored an extra 20 points, earning a groan in response.

“Well, just that if there were more of us, we wouldn’t always need to play two-against-one, or one-against-one-against-one.”

She had a point in that, the three of you had already circled through ‘boys against girls’, ‘wings against no wings’, ‘adults against kids’ multiple times throughout the afternoon.

“Maybe next time we have a games afternoon we can invite the others around?” you suggested, watching as Ottie placed down the cards Cassian silently handed her, completely missing the scrunched expression of frustration on Ottie’s face and the way Cassian had tensed up and remained silent throughout the whole conversation.

“Or,” Ottie stretched the word out causing you to look up in curiosity as you tried to catch Cassian’s eye who busily looked through his remaining cards in an attempt to avoid your gaze, “you could just have a baby.”

Cassian let out a sigh and it was now your turn to freeze in place as the words lingered in the space between. Sure, you had spoken about having kids together and you definitely wanted them with Cassian, but you didn’t feel ready yet. Joining their family had already been such a detour from the life you had imagined yourself living at this point in time, and while you wouldn’t change it for anything in the world, you still wanted the time to enjoy your life as it currently was.

You knew Cassian wanted another child and that he would jump at the chance as soon as you agreed, yet, despite feeling guilty as you noted his disappointment when you first told him not yet, the sense of relief that had washed over you when he quickly changed the conversation was telling enough in itself to prove that you weren’t ready yet.

Tuning back into the conversation as Ottie listed all the reasons why she thought she should have a baby brother or sister, your eyes landed on Cassian, finding him already looking back at you with a tentative expression. He didn’t seem shocked or caught off guard so Ottie must have already brought this up with him.

You opened your mouth, to say what you weren’t quite sure, but Cassian saved you from having to fumble for words as he abruptly clapped his hands together, “how about we start on dinner, that way, Ottie, you can have your surprise treat before bedtime.” At the mention of the words surprise and treat, all thoughts of a sibling appeared to immediately vanish as she scrambled out of Cassian’s lap and towards the blanket ford entrance.

“Nuh-uh, Ottie, you know the rules; if you make a blanket fort you need to pack it up, alright? You get to cleaning and Mum and I will start making dinner.”

The bubble of amusement at Ottie’s groan of annoyance as she stomped up the stairs, laden with pillows, was quick to pop once you realised you and Cassian were now alone. You turned towards him, already feeling his eyes on you, and were met with a soft and knowing expression.

“Cass…”

“Y/N, its fine.” His tone was comforting yet you couldn’t help but feel as though you were disappointing him.

“No, you know that it’s not that I don’t want to. I just…”

“Not yet, I know and its fine. We have Ottie and once you’re ready…once we’re ready, then we can talk about it.” He held out a hand which you took, letting him pull you up off the floor, a small smile gracing your lips when he didn’t pull his hand away and, instead, squeezed yours and soothingly rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand.

You let out another sigh, “Cass…” you tried again but were abruptly silenced as he pressed his lips against yours.

“Stop,” He pulled away but held your gaze, “I love you and we have all the time in the world. Even if you decide that just Ottie is enough, it won’t change anything between us, alright?”

Noting that the hesitant look on your face remained, he kissed you again, putting everything into it until he felt your tension ebb away. “Now enough of this, I don’t want to spend my last few hours here having you feeling like this. Come on, let’s start on dinner. Ottie won’t be happy if it gets too late and she misses out on her treat.” Cassian nipped at your ear, his own concern leaving him after hearing the small giggle you let out. Finally satisfied, he slung his arm over your shoulders and headed towards the kitchen.

“You know she won’t be going to bed while you’re still here, treat or not, she’s going to want to stay up until you need to leave.”

“Well, we can’t have that, she’ll be a nightmare for you tomorrow and then you’ll never want to have another one…” He let out a playful yelp as you smacked his stomach, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Besides, I want at least a few uninterrupted hours alone with you before I have to leave...”

Rolling your eyes you move to pull away, but Cassian was faster as he spun you back around to face him, leaning down to kiss your lips once more and then the tip of your nose before brushing the hair away from your face and giving you a lovesick smile that you couldn’t help but return.

*****

The three of you slumped against the plush, green couch, Cassian in the middle with you and Ottie tucked in either side of him as you finished off the final few crumbs of the slice of chocolate cake Ottie had wanted to share. The young Illyrian let out a loud yawn that she quickly tried to cover up, “that’s so weird, because I’m not even tired.” You raised your brows and shared a look with Cassian who was shaking his head, an amused smirk lighting up his face.

“Hey, Otts? I know it’s not your bedtime yet, but can you do me a favour?” Ottie sat up and gave her dad a suspicious look as she waited for him to continue. “I was hoping you would let me tuck you in early tonight and read you a few stories? I’m going to miss you while I’m away and I’m going to miss bedtimes so was hoping for one more before I have to go?”

Ottie looked back and forth between the two of you before letting out a dramatic sigh, “Fine.” With that, she slid off the couch and grabbed both yours and Cassian’s hands as she began walking towards the stairs and up to her room.

“Very smooth,” you murmured into Cassian’s ear, he just gave you a wink before leaning down to scoop Ottie up, causing her to let out a squeal as he bounded up the remaining steps.

*****

After taking in turns to read Ottie eight different books, she was now tucked into bed with the two of you lying either side of her, tightly gripping your hands as she began to slowly succumb to sleep. Cassian was still as he played with her hair, silently watching her and taking in every little movement and feature. You stayed just as still, just as silent, as you took in the scene before you, knowing that the minutes were ticking by too fast in the count down to Cassian leaving.

“I love you, Ottie.” Cassian whispered the words as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

A sleepy smile spread over Ottie’s face, “I love you too, Dad.” Soon enough her breathing evened out and soft snores filled the room.

Looking past Ottie’s small frame, your eyes met Cassian’s and the tears you found there had the ones you had been fighting so hard to keep back finally escape down your cheeks. Cautiously, Cassian slowly moved, testing just how deeply Ottie was asleep before nodding his head towards the door. You both carefully got up, Cassian leaning back down to fuss over Ottie as he tucked her in further and brushed her hair away from her face before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. Moving around the bed to stand beside Cassian, you put a hand on his back and rubbed soothing circles across it, waiting for him to make the move to leave.

“Alright,” Cassian whispered, taking your hand and leading you out of the room, “now I want to properly say goodbye to you.”

You had just managed to silently close Ottie’s bedroom door before letting out a yelp as Cassian suddenly picked you and threw you over his shoulder before determinedly walking towards your own bedroom door.

*****

“Stop,” you laughed, a half exasperated, half amused expression on your face, “you’re being ridiculous.”

Cassian just winked up at you from where he rested between your legs, “I’m just making sure you won’t forget about me while I’m away.” He looked back down, a devilish grin spreading as he admired his work, you just groaned as you finally saw the marks he worked so hard to leave already appearing across your hip bones, trailing further and further down.

Pulling himself back up your body, Cassian sprawled himself out over the top of you, trapping you beneath him as your legs intertwined once more, his face burrowed in the crook of your neck as you let your fingers run through his hair. You let the silence envelop you, knowing your time was up but neither of you wanting to acknowledge it.

After what felt like both seconds and years, Cassian shifted, now leaning on his elbows as he looked down at you. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. You felt the sting behind your eyes return and knew you wouldn’t be able to speak, so instead you leant up to kiss him. “I have to go…” Cassian said, eventually pulling away just fair enough to rest his forehead against yours, eyes still shut tightly as he held you close.

“I know,” you murmured back, kissing him softly once more before you both reluctantly started to pull apart.

Throwing on the shirt Cassian had been wearing, you watched from where you sat on the edge of your bed as Cassian got dressed.

“Do you know where my –”

“In the corner of the wardrobe.” Knowing he was asking about the boots you had been reminding him to get out all week. Cassian gave you a sheepish look as he ducked into the dressing room, causing you to huff out a laugh as you laid back down and stared up at the ceiling.

“Oh!” Cassian’s voice echoed out to you, “look what I just found.”

You sat back up just in time to catch the small woollen jumper that Ottie would have worn at just a few months old.

“It’s so tiny,” you held the small item up as Cassian sat beside you, leaning down to tie up his laces, “where was this?”

“It must’ve fallen down the back, it was poking out from underneath the drawers. Can you believe she was ever this small?” Cassian sat back up and reached for the jumper, trailing the small cut out sections in the back that once would have fit her wings. A pang of guilt coursed through you at the look on Cassian’s face, knowing what he was thinking about. You weren’t sure if it was the heightened emotions brought on by such an overwhelming day or the images of Cassian holding a small baby that raced to the front of your mind that had you wanting to say something.

“About before, what Ottie brought up –”

“Y/N, we don’t need to do this now, it’s –”

“No, Cass, I was just going to say that maybe… maybe, once you get back, we should talk about it again. Properly this time. I was caught off guard when Ottie mentioned it but…” you trailed off, not quite sure where to go next.

Cassian released a breath, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulled you against his side and kissed your temple.

“When I’m back, we’ll talk.” You could tell he was trying to keep a neutral expression for your sake, but there was no missing the sparkle that ignited in his eyes and the way the corner of his lips twitched as though holding back a grin. “Fuck, Rhys is going to kill me. I’m going to be so late…”

Your heart dropped as Cassian stood, taking your hand to pull you up off the bed before guiding you to the door. He stopped outside of Ottie’s door, quietly opening it to peek inside and, seeing that she was still fast asleep, let out another shaky breath before whispering “I love you, Ottie” as he closed the door once more. You squeezed his hand in reassurance, “we’re going to be fine, Cass. We’ll miss you, so much, but we will be fine.” Cassian just grimly nodded in response as you made your way down the stairs.

All you could do was stare at one another, your hands were grasped firmly in his calloused ones, as you stood by the front door.

“You’ve got to go,” you whispered, tears freely falling now as you realised this was the last time you would be seeing him for weeks or, Cauldron forbid, months.

A pained expression crossed his face as he softly wiped the tears away before leaning down to kiss you. You quickly moved again him, the two of you melding together before a soft cough that indicated another person’s presence had you pulling apart.

“I figured you would need a little longer to say goodbye. Thought I would winnow us both over, save you the hassle of flying and experiencing Rhys’ telling off for being late,” Azriel’s low voice broke through the silence as you both turned to face him.

“Hi, Az.” You said, voice shakier than you intended it to be. Cassian simply nodded at his brother as his hand tightly squeezed yours.

“Y/N.” He greeted back with a smile that did nothing to hide the sombre expression that had been becoming a more permanent fix as the going-ons of the Continent continued to surface.

Cassian turned back to you; brows pinched as his eyes scanned your face. You offered him a small smile, not knowing how to make the goodbye any easier.

“I love you,” he said, repeating the words over and over again in a whisper between the hurried kisses he gave you.

“I love you.” No other words were needed as Cassian grimly nodded, leaning down to kiss you once more before taking a step towards where Azriel stood.

“Stay safe,” you called out, doing your best to stop yourself from racing after him, “both of you.”

Cassian’s turned back to face you as soon as he was beside Azriel, every emotion conveyed in a single look.

“Don’t worry, Y/N, I’ll keep him out of trouble,” Azriel replied in an attempt to lighten the weight of what they were about to head into and the significance in the changes that could come about over the following weeks.

*****

Five weeks and three days later

You and Ottie had just gotten home after spending the evening with Elain and Nyx, who she was looking after whilst Feyre and Rhys were in the Dawn Court.

“Mum?” Ottie asked as you slid into bed beside her, “Can I please have two stories tonight?”

“Two? Otts, you look like you could barely stay awake for one. Are you sure? You’ve had a pretty big day.” You had gone into work, so Ottie had spent the day with her friend, Ciela, and, after picking her up, the two of you had then headed straight to the River House.

“Please…”

“Okay, fine. What do you want tonight?”

Whilst you read aloud, Ottie had snuggled up against you, but you could tell by her fidgeting that she was far from sleep.

“…the end.” You finished, placing the book on the bedside table and looking down at your daughter who was staring vacantly at the ceiling, only moving once you had settled back beside her so that she could hold onto you once more.

“Everything alright, sweetheart?”

“Yep.” But the deflation in her voice didn’t ebb your concern. Instead of pushing her to answer, you wrapped your arms around her and stroked her hair, hoping to offer some form of comfort as she muddled over her thoughts.

You had almost thought she had drifted to sleep and had begun to doze off yourself when Ottie suddenly sat up and looked at you with a determined expression.

“Mum?” You sat up as well, giving her a soft smile to encourage her to continue. “You know how before Dad left, I said I wanted a baby brother or sister? Well, I’ve changed my mind, I like that it’s just the three of us. Maybe we can get a dog? Dad’s always saying he wants a dog and that it would be really fun. And then the dog can keep you company when we’re flying and you’re on the ground, and it will also be able to…”

Ottie continued to list all the reasons why you should get a dog, yet you were waiting for her to drop the reason for her sudden change of heart in regard to a sibling. In Cassian’s absence, your mind had run amuck with imaged scenarios and that promised conversation you were to have upon his return.

“Well,” you interrupted Ottie’s rambles, noting the way she almost frantically avoided eye contact. “We can definitely talk about getting a dog once Dad is back. But how come you no longer want a little brother or sister?”

“I just don’t…” her voice was muffled as she slumped back against the pillows, pulling the blankets over her head.

Letting out a sigh, you racked your brain for what could’ve caused the sudden change but came up blank. Just this morning she had been telling you that if she had a sibling she wouldn’t need to have gone to Ciela’s because she would have someone at home to play with – completely missing the fact that it was the child caring factor that was the concern at hand. With Ottie yet to lift the blankets away from her face, you tried for another tactic and laid back down beside her, pulling the other half of the blanket over your own head.

“Does Ciela have any siblings?”

“Yes, three”

“What are they like?” You asked, maybe it had something to do with one of them picking on the girls…

“They’re alright,” Ottie shifted closer to you, and you were quick to pull her into a hug that she immediately melted into. “One of them is too little to play, the other one was at the big kids’ school today, and the other one is a grown up.”

“Did you tell Ciela you wanted to be a big sister?”

“Yes…” her voice trailed off into a whisper and she took in a shaky breath, burring her face tighter against you.

“Oh? What did she have to say about that?”

“Nothing really…,” Ottie squirmed a bit before continuing, “but she said she had heard her mum talking about you and daddy to Niamh’s mum.” You let out a sigh, knowing you were close and not liking where this could be heading. You knew people talked about you and Cassian and the cliché of you being his nanny before getting together, you only hoped they had the common decency not to bring a four-year-old into the mix.

“Did Ciela tell you what they said?”

There was a beat of silence before her quiet “…yes.”

You could only just make out Ottie’s response before she was sniffling and curling in on herself. Pulling the blankets away you scooped Ottie into your arms and held her tightly against you, one hand rubbing up and down her back while the other soothed her hair as she quietly sobbed into the crook of your neck.

“Sweetheart,” you started after a few moments, pressing a kiss to the top of her head once her sobbing turned into quiet sniffles. “I need you to tell me what happened, please? Otherwise I won’t know what to do to fix this and make you feel better.”

“They said… They said that when you and daddy have a baby,” her shaky intake of breath had your heart breaking even further at the inner turmoil she must have been hiding from you all afternoon. “That you will send me away to live in the Autumn Court because… because I’m not…”

You pulled back to look her in the eye, blood thrumming in your ears as you waited with bated breath for her to finish saying those dreaded few words, doing your best to quell your anger and focus on the girl in front of you.

“Because you’re not what, Ottie?”

“Because I’m not your real daughter. And when you have your own baby, you won’t want me anymore.”

The few beats in which Ottie’s eyes welled with tears as she hid her face against you gave you all but a moment to compose yourself and decide how you wanted to navigate the situation.

“Well,” you started, keeping your tone light, “that is just the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard, and you’ve heard some of the things your dad says...” Ottie pulled back and looked up at you with wide eyes, lower lip still trembling as she processed your words. “Of course you’re my daughter, I mean, sure I didn’t give birth to you, but that’s hardly the point. Ottie, I have been in your life since before you could crawl, besides, how else would I know how to make your favourite meal, or how to do your hair just the way you like, or the fact that you only like chocolate brownies if half the chocolate is melted and the other half is in chunks, it if I wasn’t your mum?”

You let out a sigh of relief as Ottie wiped away the few remaining tears, a small tug of a smile beginning to appear. “And why would we ever send you away to the Autumn Court? That’s just silly, your home is here, with us. The only time we would ever send you away is if you got to, like, 187 and still lived at home with us, although even then we might still keep you here, we just love you that much.”

“Really?”

“Of course. You are my whole world, Ottie. Everything changed for the better when you and your dad came into my life, and I wouldn’t change it for anything. And if we do have another child, we’re going to need you around to help us out and to teach them how to be just as amazing as you are.”

“I love you, mummy.” You pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and then to her cheeks.

“I love you so, so much, sweetheart.”

You blinked away your tears as Ottie wrapped her arms around you, holding her tightly until she was ready to pull away.

“So, do you think you’re up for the job of being a big sister?” You asked, tickling Ottie’s sides and relishing in the sound of her melodic giggles.

“Yeah, I think so,” Ottie looked thoughtful for a moment before continuing, “please can it be a girl? I don’t want another boy here, daddy is enough.”

You let out a laugh, “I agree, leave it with me and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Wow, I’ve been gone all of five weeks and the two of you have already kicked me out of my bed and decided that it’s a girls-only house. Maybe I should leave and stay with Uncle Rhys and Auntie Feyre, at least Nyx appreciates me.”

Your heart froze at the sudden voice, not having heard anyone approach, and then it completely melted at the sight of Cassian before you.

Ottie froze from where she was beginning to settle herself back against the pillow, looking between you and Cassian with wide eyes and a stunned expression that slowly broke into a look of pure joy.

“Daddy!” She all but jumped across the bed and launched herself towards where Cassian had been leaning against the doorframe, her small wings carrying her the rest of the distance. Cassian was quick to catch her in a tight embrace, spinning her around and around as he peppered kisses all over her face, sending her into a fit of giggles and happy squeals.

Completely caught off guard and feeling overwhelmed at the heartwarming reunion before you, you slowly pulled yourself out of bed and took a few steps towards the pair, grinning as you caught Cassian’s eye from over Ottie’s shoulder.

“Well,” Cassian started as he set Ottie back down on the ground and knelt down to her level, “now that I’m home, I think you should go back to your room–”

“But dad–”

“–to get your own pillow then come right back. What? The least you can do is give me back my pillow seeing that you’ve taken over my side of the bed.”

Ottie grinned at him then jumped forward to give him another tight hug before racing out of the room. With a soft chuckle, Cassian watched her leave before stiffly getting to his feet and turning to face you, the exhaustion so clearly evident you marvelled at how he had managed to hide it so well in those first few moments.

“Hey, you.” Your voice was quiet and came out hoarser than you would have liked but Cassian simply let out an incoherent noise as he stepped closer, all but falling against you as he pulled you into the warmth and comfort of his arms that you had so sorely missed.

“You,” he mumbled into your hair, “are the most amazing and incredible female to ever live. Let me know if I ever stop telling you that, yeah?”

“Cass…?”

“Hi, sorry, I’ve just missed you, so much. And I’m–”

“Exhausted?” you offered, taking in the dark circles under his eyes as you grasped his hand and led him to the side of the bed.

“That too. But I was going to say that just I’m so in love with you that these past few weeks have been absolute torture.”

“I love you too.” You laughed at his jumbled words, shaking your head as you took in his face before pushing the stray pieces of hair away from his eyes, your heart stuttered at the way Cassian moved into your touch.

“Y/N…,” he stared at you for a beat before his own hand came up to cup your face, gently pulling you closer in such a way that had your heart skipping a beat as your eyes flickered shut in anticipation of finally, finally having his lips on yours again.

“Gods, I’ve missed you.” Cassian murmured against you as his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer so that he could deepen the kiss. You responded just as enthusiastically, hands landing on the base of his neck as your fingers tugged on his hair, causing him to let out a small moan that had you grinning.

“Hi,” you whispered as you pulled away.

“Hi,” Cassian’s voice was just as soft as his eyes skittered across your face, leaning in once more until the patter of footsteps had him pulling away.

“I’m in the middle!” Ottie announced as she reappeared in the doorway, bounding over to the bed and making space for her pillow before looking at you both expectantly.

You watched Cassian with a worried expression as he turned to look at Ottie in bemusement. There hadn’t been much news from anyone regarding what had been happening, likely for security reasons, just the occasional hurried notes from Rhys and Feyre checking in and letting you and Elain know that everyone was okay and would hopefully be home soon.

“Do you want some food or a shower or anything…?”

Cassian pressed a kiss to your cheek, before trailing his fingers down your face, eyes lighting up just at the sight of you before him. “If I smell that bad, I’ll go and shower, but right now I just want to be with my girls.”

Shaking your head, you pushed Cassian towards the dressing room, “at least get changed before getting into bed, you’re still in your leathers.”

“I thought you liked me in my leathers.” He called back, making you roll your eyes as you climbed back into bed beside Ottie.

“You were right,” she mused with a thoughtful nod of her head, “Daddy does say some silly things.”

*****

After filling Cassian in on every little detail he had missed, Ottie was quick to fall asleep, complete exhaustion from her activity-filled and emotional roller coaster of a day knocking her out as soon as the initial shock and excitement of Cassian’s return ebbed away.

Once Ottie’s soft snoring filled the room, Cassian gave you a look before silently scooping her up and carrying her to her own bedroom. You knew she would be mad about the fact that she had been moved when she woke up in the morning but after a month of not seeing Cassian, you were more than happy to deal with the consequences of that later on.

“Is she alright?” Cassian asked after closing your bedroom door and sliding back into bed, immediately wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his face against your neck.

“Yeah, she’s alright. How much did you hear?” You let your fingers trail through his hair, a month’s worth of stress and tension easing away simply by having Cassian beside you again.

“Enough,” the darkening of his voice told you that he knew exactly what had happened. “Ciela’s mum?”

“And Niamh’s.” You added, tone bitter as images of Ottie’s distraught face returned to the front of your mind.

“For fucks sake… can’t they just mind their own business.”

“She’s alright.” You reassured, knowing there would be plenty of time to get into it over your daughter’s friends’ mums, but not wanting to waste the time you currently had together doing so.

“I know…” he trailed off, letting out a sigh before pressing small kisses along your neck.

“Are you alright though? What’s happening on the Continent, will it –” Cassian cut you off with a kiss that you immediately returned.

“I’m fine. And that will all be fine. Tomorrow, alright? I’ll tell you everything but right now I just…” he trailed off and looked down at you, a soft yet longing smile on his face that you returned before tangling your fingers in his hair once more and pulling him closer.

*****

For someone who appeared to be completely exhausted, Cassian still had plenty of energy when it came to you in those few hours that followed his return home. You knew you would both feel the brunt of getting next to no sleep once the sun had fully risen, but as you lay in the calm silence of your candle-lit bathroom, your back against Cassian’s chest, both of you submerged in the warmth of the lavender-scented bathwater, you couldn’t find yourself caring.

Cassian had begged you to fill him in on every single detail of every day that he had been away for, no matter how boring and uneventful it seemed, he wanted to hear it all. He also managed to easily skirt away from any questions you directed at him regarding his time away and what had happened in the Dawn Court and on the Continent. Knowing he needed time to decompress, you playfully flicked water at him in response before jumping into a recount of Ottie trying to outfly Nyx and winning.

When you felt Cassian’s breathing begin to even out, the strokes of his fingers through your hair growing lazier and slower, you finally made a move to get to bed.

“Cass?” All you got was a grunt in return as Cassian pulled you back into the water and nestled his face against your bare back. “My love, you are exhausted and need to sleep. Come on, bed time.”

Reluctantly, Cassian let you help him out of the bath, his exhaustion clearly taking over as he slumped against the bathroom counter, eyes shut as you wrapped the large towel around him. Once you were both dry, you took Cassian’s hands and led him back into your bedroom, helping him onto the edge of the bed before pulling out some loose-fitting sleepwear for him to change into. As he collapsed against the pillows, you were surprised you didn’t hear the immediate onset of his snores, instead finding him watching you get ready for bed, a sleepy yet adoring expression flickering across his face.

You were about to climb in beside him when the sudden appearance of a small, folded sheet of paper caught your eye:

Please tell me he got back in one piece? We were all planning on coming home tomorrow but Az said he insisted on flying straight home as soon as the final meeting finished up.

- Rhys

“Cass, why do I have a note from Rhys saying you flew all the way home instead of waiting just one more night to winnow back with the others?

“Shh,” Cassian murmured as he reached for you and pulled you against him, “wanted to see my girls. I missed you.” The words were muffled against your skin, heavy breathing quick to follow.

The soft thud of a pen landing on your bedside table where the note had appeared only moments before had you rolling your eyes.

Yes, he made it home, missed telling me the part where he flew hours across Prythian without taking a break... No wonder he’s so exhausted, head hit the pillow less than a minute ago and he’s already snoring! See you all soon

- Y/N x

Mere seconds passed before another sheet of paper appeared on your bedside table.

Clearly not that exhausted if he’s only just asleep, he would’ve made it home hours ago according to when Az said he left ;)

- Rhys

You scoffed and scrunched the piece of paper up, not deigning to reply to your High Lord’s cheek, before settling back against your pillow. Cassian immediately reached for you, pulling you tight against him, even whilst being fast asleep. You let yourself relax against him, quickly finding sleep now that Cassian was back home and where he was meant to be.

*****

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[tenjikusprincess]

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓬𝓪𝓽-𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓹𝓱𝓮

chifuyu x fem!reader authors note: HII i saw @dollrndo speak about this idea and i want to give full credit to them as i did not create this idea. also, if you guys want, i can write this for male readers as well if anyone wants to request it! it was fun writing this, it gave me butterflies SHHH. its all fluff, maybe a grain of salt of angst if u squint really hard. its not proofread so if you see any mistakes, i give permission to point and laugh :> this takes place in the last timeline btww! anyways, i hope u like it!

Scratch, scratch. 

It was 12:03 AM. The exact time your cat decided to stage her nightly rebellion. 

"Please," you groaned, dragging your voice like a ghost haunting your own bedroom, "stop scratching the window..." 

The scratching only intensified, each sound scraping your eardrums like nails on a chalkboard. You grabbed your pillow and slammed it over your head, a feeble attempt to block out the feline fury.  

"I love you," you mumbled through gritted teeth, "but why do you keep going out so late?" 

Eventually, enough was enough. With the grace of a half-dead zombie, you rolled out of bed and trudged over to the window. You opened it with a dramatic sigh, like some weary mother letting her rebellious teenage daughter sneak out for the thousandth time. 

Your cat didn’t even look at you—just hopped down like she had appointments to keep. You muttered a curse, slammed the window shut, and collapsed back into bed. 

And yet... you couldn’t sleep. 

Your brain started spiraling. Where did she go every night? She’d slink off at midnight and return at sunrise, like some secret agent on a mission. Maybe someone was feeding her? Petting her? Letting her watch TV? 

Or maybe... she was cheating on you with someone else. 

With that disturbing thought, you eventually drifted off. 

You woke up around 9:00 AM, expecting the familiar, annoying little scratches at your window. But… silence. 

You blinked at the ceiling, sat up, and looked around. 

No cat. 

A flash of concern rippled through you. Normally she'd be back by now, screaming to be fed like she hadn’t just snuck out and partied all night. 

You rushed through the house like a whirlwind, calling her name with growing panic. No pawsteps, no tail flicking past the hallway, and no smug little face. 

You slumped onto the couch, hair a mess, heartbeat erratic. Where the hell could she be? 

Then—like a badly timed horror movie jump scare—you heard it. 

Scratch, scratch. 

You leapt up and bolted to your bedroom. There she was, like nothing happened, just chilling outside the window with a what are you freaking out for expression. 

"You stupid little—" You cut yourself off as you opened the window to let her in. 

"Where the hell were you!" you hissed as she hopped in gracefully, trotting toward her food bowl like royalty returning from war. 

She meowed like nothing to see here, and you just rolled your eyes. 

But deep down… you weren’t letting this go. 

The next morning was supposed to be productive. You had errands to run, groceries to grab, maybe a coffee to reward your functioning existence. 

You got dressed in your comfiest clothes, pulled your hair into a loose braid, leaving the front strands to frame your face. 

As you headed for the door, your cat suddenly followed you. That alone was strange—usually she was in her little bed, curled up like a loaf. 

"You wanna come with me?" you joked, opening the door. 

To your surprise, she walked out like she absolutely had plans. 

"Hey! No no no, we’re not doing this." You opened the door again. "Go back inside." 

She stared at you, unblinking and defiant. 

When you tried to pick her up, she exploded like a demon from a cat-shaped piñata. 

"Ow—hey! What the—!" you hissed as she clawed at your arms, scratching deep enough to draw blood. She hissed, kicked off your chest, and landed with flair before sauntering off to another apartment door nearby. 

"Unbelievable," you muttered, wiping at your bleeding cheek. 

She scratched the door twice. Like clockwork, another cat appeared, meowing happily. A boyfriend? 

Then... the door opened wider. 

A guy stepped into view. Short black hair, half-asleep expression, undercut messy from bed. He wore a loose t-shirt and sweatpants, slippers slightly mismatched. You locked eyes. 

His widened immediately. 

He took in the sight of you—bleeding, disheveled, holding your face like you’d been mauled by a bear. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice concerned but a little caught off guard. 

You blinked at him. “I—yeah. I’m fine.” You turned and headed for your door, your pride cracking under the weight of this ridiculous moment. 

“Wait!” he called. “I can clean you up! It’s happened to me too, often.” 

You hesitated. Your cat had already abandoned you for her “lover”. You were bleeding, and he was cute. 

You sighed. “Fine.” 

His apartment smelled like vanilla and faint cologne. A cozy chaos. The two cats immediately started chasing each other through the living room like it was the feline Olympics. 

“Sit, I’ll grab my first aid kit,” he said, walking off. 

You sat stiffly on his couch, arms stinging and heart pounding. 

Your cat wandered over and rubbed against your leg like nothing happened. You glared at her. “So now you wanna be sweet?” 

She meowed innocently. 

When the guy returned, he knelt next to you and opened the kit. “I’m Chifuyu, by the way. Chifuyu Matsuno. That’s Peke J.” He nodded toward his cat. “Guessing your cat is…his girlfriend?” 

You gave a tired laugh. “Looks like it. I’m Y/N. And she’s currently single until further notice.” 

He grinned. “Well, thanks for the warning.” 

He started dabbing at the scratches on your arms. The alcohol stung like hell, but you didn’t flinch too hard. Still, he noticed every tiny wince. 

“Sorry, sorry. I know it hurts.” 

“It’s fine,” you murmured, trying not to focus on how close he was, or how good he smelled, or how unfair it was that he was attractive and kind. 

After your arms were covered in more band-aids than skin, he hesitated. 

“…Your face.” 

You blinked. “What about it?” 

“I, uh—there’s a scratch. Near your eye. I should clean that too, if you’re okay with it.” 

Your breath caught slightly. You nodded. 

He leaned in, gently brushing a strand of hair aside. 

His fingers were warm and careful. You closed your eyes. 

The moment was quiet. Charged. You could feel your pulse quicken as he softly wiped away the drying blood. 

His fingertips grazed your cheekbone, sending a strange flutter down your spine. 

He paused, just for a second. 

You opened your eyes—and found his gaze locked on yours. 

Neither of you said anything. 

There was something there. Something unspoken. And it scared you, just a little. 

He swallowed. You blinked. 

Then both of you looked away at the same time, like it never happened. 

“All done,” he muttered, capping the ointment. 

You cleared your throat and glanced at your phone. “It’s already been thirty minutes… I should go. I’ve got errands.” 

He nodded, standing. “Right. Of course. You can leave her here if you want—I don’t mind watching them. They’ll probably just nap.” 

You offered a small smile. “Thanks. Really.” 

You turned to go, hand on the doorknob when— 

“Wait!” he called again. 

You turned, a little startled. 

He stepped forward and reached out. Gently, he tucked a loose strand of hair back into your braid, fingers brushing your temple. 

“There. You looked like you wrestled a tornado,” he teased softly. 

You stared at him, caught off guard by how intimate the gesture felt despite how casual it was. 

“…Thanks,” you said, voice a little quieter this time. 

You turned and walked out, heart thudding in your chest like it had just realized something you were trying to ignore. 

As you reached the stairs, you glanced back once—just once—but the door was already closed. 

Back inside, Chifuyu leaned against it, exhaling deeply. He rubbed the back of his neck, staring at nothing in particular. 

Peke J meowed, brushing up against his leg. 

“…What just happened?” he whispered to himself, feeling the warmth of your skin still on his fingers. 

A few hours later… 

You had finished your errands faster than usual—partly because you were focused, mostly because your mind wouldn’t stop wandering back to earlier. 

Not the scratches, not the stinging alcohol wipes or the bandaids that now decorated your arms like little badges of shame. No, it was the way Chifuyu had leaned in so carefully to clean your face. How quiet it had gotten. How strange it felt to have someone else taking care of you, even for a second. 

You kept telling yourself it didn’t mean anything. He was just being nice. He probably would’ve done the same for anyone, especially if their cat was dating his. 

You let out a breath and walked up the apartment steps, a plastic convenience store bag swinging in your hand. You’d grabbed some snacks as a thank-you gesture… but now you weren’t even sure if showing up again was a good idea. 

What if it was weird? 

Before you could overthink it further, his door creaked open. 

Chifuyu stood there, blinking like he hadn’t expected to see you. He was holding an empty glass in one hand and looked like he was on his way to the kitchen. 

“Oh. Uh—hey.” 

“Hey,” you said back, a little stiffly. “Just… came to get my cat.” 

“She’s, uh, still here. They passed out after about an hour of chaos,” he said, stepping aside so you could see inside. 

Sure enough, your cat was flopped across the rug like a melted candle, tail twitching. Peke J was perched like royalty on the couch, one eye barely open in sleepy disinterest. 

“Figured I’d bring snacks,” you mumbled, holding up the bag. “You survived the shift, so…” 

Chifuyu raised his eyebrows and motioned you in with a shrug. “Appreciate it. You didn’t have to, though.” 

You stepped inside carefully, glancing around again. Nothing destroyed. No fur-tornado aftermath. Just a strangely peaceful apartment that smelled like green tea and clean laundry. 

“I wasn’t sure if I should stop by,” you admitted, placing the bag on the table. “Wasn’t trying to be annoying.” 

“You’re not,” he said a little too quickly, then scratched the back of his neck. “I mean… they’re your cats, too. Sort of. I mean—not your cat, obviously. I meant—” 

“I get it,” you said, trying not to smile as you sat down on the arm of the couch. 

He muttered something under his breath about needing more sleep and sat cross-legged on the floor. Your cat rolled over and gave him a tired blink. 

“She’s not usually this social,” you said, watching her. “I didn’t think she liked strangers.” 

Chifuyu gave a small laugh. “Maybe she’s just here for Peke J. I don’t think she even notices me.” 

“You and me both.” 

A silence settled in—not uncomfortable, just quiet. You glanced at him again as he poked through the snack bag and pulled out a small pack of cookies. 

He held them up like a peace offering. “Mind if I—?” 

“Go for it.” 

“Thanks.” 

More silence. More weird, subtle tension neither of you seemed sure how to deal with. 

You fiddled with your sleeve. “So… do you do this often?” 

“Babysit strange cats? No,” he said, chewing thoughtfully. “But, y’know, I work at a pet shop part-time. I’m used to fur and chaos.” 

“Ah. That explains the ‘I’ve-got-this’ energy.” 

He shrugged. “I fake it. Works most of the time.” 

You both laughed softly, then fell quiet again. 

For a moment, you just sat there, letting the quiet settle. Chifuyu leaned his head back against the couch and stared at the ceiling. His cat stretched out beside him and yawned. Your cat rolled over and pressed a paw to his leg like she owned him. 

And still, you felt that weird tension tugging again, not romantic. Not yet. Just… something. 

You stood up. “I should probably take her back. Before she claims this apartment as her own.” 

He nodded, standing too. “Fair enough. She was starting to boss Peke J around.” 

You scooped her up—more gently this time—and held her close to your chest. She didn’t squirm, which was rare. 

“Thanks,” you said. “For everything earlier.” 

“No problem,” Chifuyu replied, rubbing the back of his neck again. “You sure you’re good? With the scratches and all?” 

“Yeah,” you said, offering a small smile. “I’ll live.” 

You headed for the door, and just as your hand touched the knob, he spoke up again. 

“…If she comes back tomorrow, I’ll probably be here. Just saying.” 

You glanced over your shoulder. 

“Got it.” 

You left before it got any weirder. But halfway down the hall, you found yourself smiling like an idiot. 

The next evening 

You weren’t planning to go back. 

You really weren’t. But around 11:58 p.m., when the familiar scratching started, you were already wide awake—waiting. 

She was on schedule, as usual. Your traitorous little escape artist. You stared at the ceiling, listening to her scratch the window, then sighed and pulled on a hoodie. 

“Okay. Fine. Go ahead and cheat on me again,” you muttered, swinging the window open. 

Your cat slipped out without so much as a goodbye, tail swishing smugly. 

This time, though, instead of going back to bed, you slipped on your shoes and followed her. Quietly. You weren't sure why, but you had this weird itch—curiosity, maybe. Or something else. 

You trailed her down the apartment stairs, hugging the wall like a spy. She walked with purpose, confident and careless, until she stopped in front of his door and scratched. 

As if she paid rent here. 

The door opened after a few seconds—and you immediately realized it wasn’t Chifuyu who answered. 

It was someone else. 

Another guy—tall, long black hair, tired-looking. He squinted down at your cat and muttered, “Oh, it’s you again.” 

Peke J meowed from somewhere inside the apartment. 

You blinked, stepping out from behind the railing. “Uh… hi?” 

The guy looked up, startled. “Oh. You must be the girl from yesterday. The one Chifuyu patched up.” 

You gave a half-smile. “Unfortunately, yes.” 

He rubbed his neck. “He’s not here, ran out to grab something.” 

“Oh, okay. I’ll just—wait, my cat—” 

Too late. She slipped in the moment he turned to check on Peke J. You stared at the door, slightly stunned. 

“Wanna wait inside or…?” 

You hesitated. 

The guy shrugged. “Suit yourself.” 

And then he closed the door. 

Rude. 

You stood in the hallway for a minute, unsure what to do—until you heard footsteps. A plastic bag rustling. 

Chifuyu turned the corner, brows furrowing when he saw you just standing there. 

“Y/N?” 

You blinked. “Your friend just closed the door on me.” 

He gave a tired, amused smile. “Yeah, that sounds like Baji.” 

He stepped past you, knocked once—loudly—and the door reopened just as fast. 

“You let her in but not her actual owner?” 

“She was faster,” Baji mumbled, wandering back into the apartment without a second glance. 

Chifuyu rolled his eyes, then looked back at you. “You wanna come in?” 

You paused again, then nodded. 

“Only because my cat broke in.” 

“Sure,” he said, hiding a smirk as he opened the door wider for you. 

Inside, things felt different. Not in a bad way. Just… more alive. There were extra shoes by the door now, another jacket on the back of a chair. You figured Baji must crash here a lot. 

You sat on the edge of the couch while Chifuyu went to put the plastic bag in the kitchen. “He your roommate?” 

“Something like that,” he called over his shoulder. “He shows up, eats my food, and argues with Peke J.” 

You smiled a little. “Sounds healthy.” 

He came back and sat a few feet from you, this time careful to give you space. “Didn’t think you’d be back.” 

“I wasn’t going to,” you admitted. “But I couldn’t sleep.” 

Silence fell between you again, but not quite the same kind. Not tense. Just… watchful. 

Your eyes drifted toward your cat, who was now shamelessly sharing Peke J’s water bowl like she’d moved in permanently. 

“She’s ridiculous,” you muttered. 

“She’s loyal,” Chifuyu countered. 

You gave him a look. “Loyal? She scratched me up like I was a threat to her love life.” 

He laughed softly, and the sound made your stomach flip again, the way it did the first time. You hated that it happened. Hated that it didn’t stop. 

You cleared your throat and looked down at your sleeves. 

“I’ve been thinking about maybe keeping her inside. Like, for real this time.” 

Chifuyu’s expression dropped just slightly. “Oh. Yeah, makes sense. Probably safer.” 

“Yeah.” You tugged your sleeve down, glancing over at him. “You’d miss her?” 

He shrugged, looking anywhere but you. “Maybe.” 

You both sat in that moment for a beat longer than necessary. It hung there between you—something unspoken. Tangled in hesitation and quietness. 

Finally, you stood. “I should go before she decides to stay the night again.” 

Chifuyu nodded slowly. “Do you… want help carrying her?” 

You gave him a dry look. “If she claws me again, I’m sending you the hospital bill.” 

He grinned. “Fair.” 

He picked up your cat with practiced hands, and to your complete shock, she didn’t fight him. Just looked mildly inconvenienced. 

You opened the door as he handed her over. 

“Thanks,” you said, shifting her weight in your arms. “Again.” 

“Anytime,” he replied, then paused. “You coming by tomorrow?” 

You blinked. “Depends. Is she?” 

He smiled faintly. “Probably.” 

You nodded. “Then… maybe.” 

And with that, you walked off into the quiet hallway, your heart beating too fast for how calm everything had been. You didn’t look back. 

But if you had, you’d have seen him standing there—just for a second longer than necessary—watching you leave. 

The next evening, you hadn’t meant to stay long. Honestly. 

You were just going to watch your cat for a few minutes, maybe chat a little, then go home and try to reclaim what was left of your night. 

But hours slipped by weirdly fast. One moment, you were poking fun at your cat for flopping dramatically onto Chifuyu’s rug like she owned the place, and the next, you were curled up on the couch with a blanket tossed lazily over your legs, watching a dumb documentary neither of you could follow. 

Your cat and Peke J were passed out near the foot of the couch, practically glued to each other, traitors. 

“I should go,” you mumbled, yawning and glancing at your phone. The screen was blurry, and you had to blink a few times to register the time. 2:47 a.m. “I didn’t mean to stay this long.” 

Chifuyu, half-dozing against the armrest, blinked awake. “You can crash here if you want. You’re, like… two doors down, but still.” 

You snorted. “Two doors away and you think I can’t make it.” 

“I’m saying you look like you can’t make it.” 

He wasn’t wrong. You were already halfway horizontal; the blanket tucked under your chin and one slipper dangling off your foot. Your body felt heavy, warm, and way too comfortable for someone who was just “visiting.” 

“I guess five more minutes wouldn’t kill me.” 

Those five minutes turned into thirty. Then you were out cold. 

“Damn, Chifuyu. You moving fast these days?” 

Chifuyu’s eyes cracked open to the sound of Baji’s voice. His face was still half-smashed into a throw pillow, his hoodie wrinkled and his hair sticking up at angles that defied physics. For a second, he had no idea what Baji was talking about. 

Then he remembered. 

You. 

Still sleeping on the other end of the couch, your arm curled around your cat as she snoozed peacefully against your chest. Peke J was snuggled up near your feet like you were part of the furniture. 

Chifuyu sat up a little too fast. “Shut up.” 

Baji smirked from the kitchen, holding a mug of coffee like it was a microphone. “I leave for one night and you’ve got girls falling asleep on the couch. Should I get out or just get earplugs?” 

“She fell asleep,” Chifuyu muttered, rubbing his eyes. “It wasn’t planned.” 

“Ohhh, it wasn’t planned,” Baji repeated with mock seriousness. “Sure. Just like how the cats weren’t planning a secret romance.” 

Chifuyu rolled his eyes, but his ears were already red. 

“You’re making it weird.” 

“I’m making it weird? You tucked her in, didn’t you?” 

Chifuyu didn’t answer. Which said everything. 

Meanwhile 

You stirred awake to the soft sound of someone laughing in the next room and the slightly uncomfortable pressure of a cat tail on your neck. You blinked slowly, then sat up with a confused squint, only to realize you were still on Chifuyu’s couch. 

Oh crap. 

You glanced around quickly. No one else was in the room. The blanket was still over you. The cats were gone. Your heart thudded a little harder than it needed to. 

Just as you stood up and tried to quietly straighten your hair, Chifuyu walked in holding two mugs. He paused mid-step when he saw you standing awkwardly with your blanket half-draped over your leg. 

“Oh. You’re up.” 

You nodded slowly, brushing your hair behind your ear. “I—uh. Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pass out.” 

“It’s okay,” he said, offering one of the mugs. “I figured if I tried to wake you, your cat would murder me.” 

You laughed softly, still feeling weirdly off-balance. “She’s protective.” 

“She’s terrifying.” 

The pause that followed was light, but it buzzed with something unspoken. You were both doing it again—feeling that something, that pull neither of you wanted to admit was there. 

You looked down at the coffee. “Thanks for this… and, you know, not kicking me out.” 

Chifuyu shrugged. “You live two doors down. I figured it wasn’t kidnapping.” 

You chuckled. “That’s true.” 

He watched you for a second, like he was working up the courage to say something else. But then Baji popped his head around the corner. 

“Oh look, the lovebirds are caffeinated now.” 

“Baji...” Chifuyu almost snapped. 

You nearly choked on your drink, turning away so they wouldn’t see you try not to laugh. 

“Just saying,” Baji added with a smirk, “Next time, at least warn me so I don’t walk in on a romantic sleepover.” 

“It wasn’t—! I swear—!” 

You set the mug down and grabbed your cat, who was sitting nearby cleaning her paws like none of this was her fault. “I think it’s time for us to go.” 

Chifuyu shot Baji a death glare and followed you to the door. 

As you stepped into the hallway, you looked at him one more time. “Thanks again. Really.” 

He nodded, leaning against the doorframe. “Anytime. And… if she sneaks back again tonight, you’re welcome to come grab her.” 

You nodded, biting back a smile. “I might just do that.” 

As you walked down the hall to your own apartment—just two doors away—you couldn’t help the weird flutter in your stomach. 

It wasn’t love. Not yet. 

But maybe... it was starting to feel like the beginning of something. 

Two Weeks Later, it became a routine. 

A weird, unofficial, unspoken routine. 

Your cat would scratch at the window around midnight, and you wouldn’t even fight it anymore. You’d open it with a dramatic sigh and mutter, “Go on, love of my life,” as she jumped down like a little four-legged fugitive. Sometimes you’d stay by the window just long enough to hear the faint sound of another scratch two doors down—followed by a quiet laugh or the low creak of Chifuyu’s apartment door. 

And some nights… you followed her. 

At first, it was just to make sure she didn’t kill Peke J. But over time, it turned into something else. 

You and Chifuyu started talking more. Sometimes it was in his apartment. Sometimes in the hall. Other times you’d both meet outside with mugs in hand like a pair of old neighbors in the suburbs. You learned he liked black coffee but hated bitter chocolate. He learned you cried when watching animal rescue videos, and you learned he didn’t know how to fold a fitted sheet to save his life. 

One night, he knocked on your door at 11:43 p.m., holding up a tangled sheet and wearing a pitiful expression. 

“Help.” 

You laughed so hard your cat came running to check on you. 

Now, it wasn’t one specific moment that changed everything. 

It was a million little ones. 

Like how he started keeping your favorite tea in his cabinet. Or how he’d pull your cat into his lap without saying anything, like she was his too. Or how you both started sitting a little closer on the couch when you watched movies together, knees brushing, elbows bumping—but neither of you moving away. 

It felt normal. Familiar, maybe even too familiar. 

It was late one night. You’d both spent the evening rewatching a movie you claimed to hate but secretly liked because Chifuyu made it more entertaining with his commentary. 

You were sprawled out on the couch, head tilted back, laughing at something he said. Your cat and Peke J were curled up in the corner, long passed out. Chifuyu had moved to sit on the floor, leaning back against the couch near your legs, his hand absently playing with the hem of your sleeve. 

It was comfortable, quiet. 

And then, it happened. 

The power went out. 

There was a soft click, and the entire apartment was swallowed in darkness. The TV, the lights, everything—gone. You let out a startled, “Oh—” and sat up quickly. 

Chifuyu cursed under his breath. “That was... not me. Swear.” 

You both sat in the dark for a second, blinking uselessly. “Well,” you said softly, “this is cozy.” 

Chifuyu laughed. “You okay?” 

“I’m good, just blind.” 

He reached for his phone and turned on the flashlight, setting it on the coffee table. The glow lit up his face in soft amber, and you looked at him—really looked at him. His hair was messy, his eyes reflecting the glow like candlelight, and his hand was still resting near yours on the couch. 

You didn’t mean to stare. 

But he didn’t look away either. 

Something shifted. 

Neither of you moved. 

You felt it—like a quiet inhale the world forgot to exhale. Like something was waiting. 

He finally spoke, voice lower than usual. “You ever feel like… something’s been happening slowly, but you’re just now noticing it?” 

You blinked, unsure if he was talking about the power outage or— 

“I mean,” he continued, fingers now just barely brushing yours, “this. You and me. It’s not just because of the cats, right?” 

Your stomach flipped. 

You looked down at your hands. “No,” you said quietly. “It’s not.” 

There it was. 

The quiet confession neither of you meant to say, but couldn’t keep in anymore. 

He smiled softly, almost in disbelief, like he was waiting for the moment to shatter. 

But it didn’t. 

You didn’t jump into his arms. He didn’t kiss you. It wasn’t a movie ending. 

But it was real. 

A moment that felt like finally. 

“I, uh…” you chuckled awkwardly, brushing hair behind your ear. “Didn’t think you noticed.” 

“I did. I just… figured you didn’t.” 

You shook your head slowly. “We’re both idiots.” 

Chifuyu laughed, the tension breaking just enough for the air to feel breathable again. “Yeah. Definitely.” 

And still—neither of you moved. 

You just sat there, in the soft flicker of flashlight glow, your cats curled up nearby, and for the first time, everything felt understood. 

Mutual. 

Unspoken—but finally, known. 

Just as the moment settled into something tender and quiet, the lights flickered—once, then twice—and then surged back with a soft electric hum. The TV clicked back on with the paused movie still frozen on screen, and the lamp in the corner bathed the room in a warm yellow light. 

And just like that, the atmosphere shifted. 

The soft mystery of the darkness was gone, replaced with clarity that felt way too bright and a little too real. 

You both blinked at the sudden light. 

Chifuyu looked away first. 

You slowly retracted your hand, the one that had been inching toward his without fully realizing it. 

He stood up and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Guess the power wanted to kill the vibe,” he joked, forcing a little laugh. 

You gave a tight smile, heart still doing acrobatics. “Yeah, it’s got great timing.” 

Silence again—but this time it felt heavier, like neither of you knew what to say now that the spell had broken. 

“I should probably get going,” you muttered, suddenly all too aware that you were in his apartment… in your pajama pants… with your hair all frizzy from the couch. 

“Oh. Yeah,” he said quickly. “Right. Of course.” 

You stood and glanced over at your cat, who was still fast asleep curled up with Peke J. “She’s knocked out.” 

“She can stay here. If you want,” he offered, rubbing the back of his neck again—his nervous tic, you were beginning to notice. 

You hesitated, part of you wanted to leav, put space between whatever that moment was and the feelings it brought up. 

The other part of you… didn’t. 

“…I’ll stay too. Just for a little while. In case the power cuts again,” you said, voice quiet but steady. 

Chifuyu looked surprised—but not unhappy. “Sure. Yeah, makes sense.” 

But instead of going back to the couch, you sat on the floor again, this time leaning against the side of it. He joined you, a little further away than before. 

The silence was louder now. 

More tense. 

You both avoided looking at each other for a while, watching the movie like it was a boring documentary. You couldn’t focus, not really. 

Eventually, though, the exhaustion won.... 

I mean, you didn’t mean to fall asleep. 

You certainly didn’t mean to lean against him while doing so. 

But somehow, somewhere between one scene and the next, your head had slipped against his shoulder, and your body had curled slightly into his side. His arm had looped around you—protectively, almost like instinct. 

You both slept that way until morning, when a loud knock startled you awake. 

Your eyes blinked open to see sunlight pouring through the window. You were still curled into Chifuyu. His arm was still around you. 

Before you could process it, another knock came—louder. 

“Yo, Chifuyu! You alive in there or did your cats eat you?” 

You flinched, whisper-shouting, “Who the hell—?” 

Chifuyu groaned, rubbing his eyes. “That’s Baji, he lives close by.” 

The door opened. Just like that, no shame. 

You panicked and tried to sit up, but Chifuyu was already in the process of doing the same—and your heads knocked together. 

“Ow!” 

“Shit—sorry!” 

“What the hell is this?” Baji’s voice rang out, amused and thoroughly entertained. He walked in, holding a convenience store bag and a bottle of iced tea. He looked between the two of you—your flushed faces, the arm that had just pulled away from your waist, your tangled hair—and grinned like the devil himself. 

“Well, well, well. Didn’t know the cats had arranged a sleepover for the humans.” 

“It’s not like that,” you both said at the same time. 

Baji looked at Chifuyu, deadpan. “You’re blushing.” 

“I’m not,” Chifuyu mumbled, standing up and dragging a hand through his hair, flustered and tired. 

You wanted to disappear into the floor. 

Baji just smirked. “Whatever you say, lover boy.” 

Later that day, something felt... different., not in the good way. 

You weren’t sure what changed. Maybe it was embarrassment, maybe it was Chifuyu going quiet after Baji left, maybe it was you suddenly overthinking everything—how close you’d gotten, how easy it was to fall into that closeness. 

You didn’t stay long after waking up. 

You said goodbye, scooped up your cat, and left quickly, leaving Chifuyu in the doorway with a weird expression on his face. 

Neither of you texted that day, or the next. 

Not even when your cat scratched at the window at midnight like usual. You opened it, but this time, she hesitated before jumping. 

Even she felt it—the distance. 

It had been almost a week since you stayed over at Chifuyu’s. 

A whole week of carefully avoiding each other—like you hadn’t literally fallen asleep with your head on his shoulder, like you hadn’t practically melted when he touched your face, like Baji hadn’t caught you both looking way too cozy on that couch. 

You were annoyed. Mostly at yourself. Maybe a little at him, too. 

Not that you’d admit it. 

Your cat, however, had no time for your emotionally stunted nonsense, because tonight? Tonight, she came back with battle scars. 

She jumped through your window at 7 a.m. as usual, but this time she was limping slightly and meowing with absolute fury. You sat up instantly, panic gripping your chest. 

“What the—what happened?!” 

You crouched to check her paw, and that’s when you saw it—tiny claw marks along her side, like she’d gotten into a fight. You immediately felt the kind of adrenaline only a cat parent knows. 

No hesitation. 

You stormed out of your apartment in your hoodie and socks, scooped her up, and marched two doors down. 

You didn’t even knock properly—more like pounded. 

Chifuyu opened the door, half-asleep, hair sticking up in five different directions, shirt slightly wrinkled. 

“Y/n…? What’s—?” 

“She’s hurt.” 

His expression snapped into full alert, blinking hard as he focused on the cat in your arms. “Wait, what?” 

“She’s got scratches. Claw marks. Your cat fought her.” 

“Peke J would never—” 

“He did! Look!” You held her out. “I know you haven’t trained him to be a criminal but I swear to God if she clawed my cat because you’re too emotionally constipated to text me back—” 

“…What?” 

You froze. 

Oh no. 

Oh no you did not just say that. 

You opened your mouth to backtrack, but Chifuyu was already smirking and squinting his eyes—sleep still in them but amusement winning over. 

“So this isn’t about the cat.” 

“I didn’t say that.” 

“You kinda did.” 

“Your cat clawed mine, that’s the main thing here.” 

“You literally brought up texting.” 

You groaned, clutching your cat closer. “Can I just come in? I need to see Peke J before I accuse her of felony assault.” 

He stepped aside without another word. 

You walked in like a storm cloud. Peke J was lounging on the window sill like a villain. The moment he saw you, he stretched and hopped down to walk toward your cat. 

The two stared at each other—then, without warning, rubbed heads like nothing happened. 

“…Are you kidding me?” 

Chifuyu sighed. “I think they just had a lovers' spat.” 

“Don’t call it that,” you said, already feeling your cheeks warm. 

He looked at you, really looked this time. You felt the shift again, like something unspoken was pulsing between you both. 

And then he spoke—quietly this time. 

“You were right, though. About the texting.” 

You looked at him, surprised. “I was?” 

“I didn’t text because I didn’t know how to act normal after that night. I didn’t want to make things weird.” 

“Well,” you gestured between the cats. “We already passed weird.” 

“…Yeah.” 

There was a pause. Not awkward, just heavy with words neither of you had figured out how to say. 

Chifuyu scratched the back of his neck again. “Look. Do you want coffee or something? I feel like we should talk without the threat of feline violence hanging over us.” 

You hesitated—but nodded. 

You sat on the couch again. Same as before. But this time, he didn’t sit far away. 

This time, he sat beside you. 

And neither of you looked away. 

A few days later, it started simple enough. 

You were both sitting on his couch again—cats passed out on the rug like they didn’t just cause yet another domestic incident. You could already feel something off in the air. 

He wouldn’t meet your eyes. 

“So,” he began, clearing his throat. “About the other day…” 

Your stomach tightened. “Yeah?” 

“I think we should keep it chill,” he said, too casually. “Like… friends.” 

You blinked. “Seriously?” 

“Yeah, I mean… it’s probably for the best, right? You’ve got stuff going on. School. Work. And I’ve got—” 

“Oh, don’t give me the you’ve got your life, I’ve got mine speech. What is this, a break-up from a relationship that never started?” 

Chifuyu looked at you, eyes wide, caught off guard by the way you snapped. 

“I’m just trying to be reasonable,” he said, defensive now. 

“No, you’re trying to protect yourself from feelings you already have,” you shot back. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me.” 

He stood up, pacing a little. “So what—you want me to just admit I like you and risk ruining everything?” 

“You think not admitting it isn’t already ruining things?” 

The room went dead silent. The air between you practically sizzled. 

He turned slowly, eyes darker now. “You think I don’t want this? That I haven’t been thinking about it since the first night you showed up bleeding from your cat looking like you were sleep-deprived and still looked beautiful?” 

Your breath hitched. 

He kept going, stepping closer, voice lower. “You think I haven’t replayed that night? You falling asleep next to me? The way you looked at me when I touched your face?” 

You stared up at him, heart thundering, completely frozen. 

“I’m scared, y/n,” he said, softer now. “I’m scared because I actually care.” 

You didn’t even think. 

You stood up and pulled him down into a kiss, it was desperate, like you were both trying to say everything without speaking. 

His hands found your waist. Yours tangled in his hair. 

When you finally broke apart, breathing heavy, you didn’t move away. His forehead pressed to yours, both of you still catching your breath. 

“Still want to be friends?” you muttered, a half-smirk tugging at your lips. 

He let out a breathless laugh. “Screw friendship.” 

You laughed too, forehead still touching his. 

Suddenly, the sound of something crashing down the hallway made you both jump. 

“Was that the cats?” you asked, looking toward the noise. 

“Probably destroyed my bathroom again,” Chifuyu sighed. “Peke J thinks the sink is a jungle gym.” 

You leaned into him, arms still loosely around his neck. “We should probably check on them.” 

“Right now?” he said, looking down at you with that unreadable look again. 

Your fingers curled slightly into his hoodie. “Later.” 

He kissed you again, slower this time, sweeter. 

Neither of you said it yet, but you didn’t have to. 

It was there—in the way your hands held each other like you were afraid to let go, in the silence between the kisses, in the way your cats continued to create absolute havoc in the other room like they knew this was exactly where you needed to be. 

The sunlight was already spilling through the blinds by the time your eyes blinked open. 

Your head rested against something warm, steady. 

For a moment, you didn’t move—just let the soft hum of the morning fill your ears. The faint breathing next to you, the tiny purring noises of two satisfied cats curled up on the edge of the couch, and the distant chirping of birds outside. 

You tilted your head slightly and saw Chifuyu fast asleep, his hoodie bunched up at the collar, one arm tucked behind his head, the other resting loosely across your waist. 

Your heart gave a little jolt. 

The night before came rushing back in hazy flashes—the arguing, the kiss, the tension finally cracking open. You’d both talked for hours afterward, voices soft and low, legs tangled together, like neither of you wanted to ruin the fragile thing that had bloomed between you. 

At some point, sleep had just… happened. You hadn’t meant to stay. Hadn’t even realized it was that late, just like previous times. You shifted a little, trying not to wake him, but his arm instinctively pulled you closer. Your breath caught. 

“I know you’re awake,” he mumbled, voice scratchy from sleep. 

You looked up to find him watching you with barely open eyes and the tiniest smile. 

“Couldn’t move without waking you,” you whispered. 

“Didn’t want you to move anyway.” 

Silence settled again. You could feel his heartbeat under your hand. Yours was trying to match its rhythm but failing miserably. 

“I should probably go,” you said eventually, but neither of you moved. 

“Probably,” he echoed. 

Still, no one moved. 

Your hand brushed the hem of his sleeve. “Last night was…” 

He opened his eyes all the way. “Yeah.” 

“Not what I expected.” 

“Same,” he said. “But I don’t regret it.” 

You nodded, then added quickly, “Me neither.” 

He exhaled, eyes drifting toward the ceiling. 

“I don’t know what this is yet,” he admitted, voice quiet. “But I know I don’t want to pretend like I don’t feel anything.” 

You looked at him then—really looked at him. He was tired. Soft. Honest. A little nervous. 

“I don’t want to pretend either,” you said. 

You weren’t sure who leaned in first, but suddenly your foreheads were touching again, just like last night. No pressure, no rush. 

Just warmth. Comfort. Realness. 

His fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face, gentle and unhurried. 

“You can stay a little longer,” he murmured, saying the same as always. 

You smiled. 

“I think I will.” 

And with that, you both settled back into the quiet—cats curled at your feet, morning light warming your skin, and something brand new hanging between you. 

Not labeled. Not defined. 

But undeniably there. 

Then, a few days later, it started with a text. 

chifuyu ❤️: “Wanna get ramen with me tonight?” 

You stared at your phone for a full minute before typing back. 

You: “As in a date?” 

chifuyu ❤️: “Only if you say yes.” 

You told yourself it was just ramen—nothing to stress over. Just “friends” hanging out… but you knew it was different this time. The way Chifuyu had texted you, the way he’d been acting—it wasn’t just casual anymore. 

You tried to brush it off, but when he showed up at your door, looking effortlessly cool and a little bit nervous, it all hit you. Your heart was doing its thing—racing, thudding, skipping beats you were trying to ignore. 

“You look good,” he said, looking you up and down, his voice a little rough. 

“You too,” you replied, trying not to smile too much. “Ready to go?” 

Chifuyu rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze lingering on you a second too long. “Yeah. I mean—yeah, let’s go.” 

The ramen shop was packed with people, the sounds of sizzling broth and chopsticks clinking filling the air. You slid into the booth across from him, trying to seem casual, but there was this electric tension between you that you couldn’t ignore. 

“So,” you began, tapping your chopsticks against your bowl, “we never really talked about last night.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s there to talk about?” 

You leaned forward, eyes locking with his. “You know what I mean.” 

Chifuyu shifted, his hand reaching for his water glass. “Look, y/n, I—” 

“Chifuyu.” You cut him off, voice firm but soft. “We kissed, we talked. We’re not pretending anymore, right?” 

He froze, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “You think I’m pretending?” 

“No,” you said quietly. “But I think you’re scared, and I get it. I am too.” 

For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of your words settling between you. 

Then, he spoke. “I’m not scared of you. I’m scared of what happens if I let myself feel this… feel you.” 

Your breath caught in your throat. “Feel me?” 

His eyes never left yours, the raw honesty in them sending a shiver down your spine. “Yeah, like I don’t know how to keep this from becoming something… bigger than we expected.” 

You swallowed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.” 

His lips curved into a small smile. “I think it’s the best thing.” 

The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter and easy conversation, but you both knew that this moment was different. The kiss, the tension—it hung there in the air like a promise neither of you could ignore. 

As you walked out of the ramen shop, the crisp night air hit you both like a rush, and suddenly it felt like everything was on the edge of something. He stepped closer to you, almost instinctively. 

“I want to do this right,” he said, voice low and steady. “I want to be with you. I want to try.” 

Your heart pounded, your mind racing with everything he’d just said. This wasn’t just a kiss anymore. This wasn’t just a “let’s hang out” situation. This was it. 

You stopped walking and turned to face him, the neon lights from the nearby shop flickering in the distance. Your chest was tight, but your words came out clear. 

“I want that too. I’ve wanted it for a while, Chifuyu.” 

You could see the relief in his eyes, the softness he hadn’t allowed himself to show until now. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle. 

“Okay,” he whispered, leaning down as if he was afraid of scaring you away. “So we’re really doing this?” 

You nodded, standing on your tiptoes to close the gap between you. This time, the kiss was slow—tender, like the weight of everything you were both feeling could finally settle in the space between you. 

When you pulled away, you were both breathless, smiles tugging at the corners of your mouths. 

“I guess we’re doing this,” you whispered. 

“I guess we are,” he replied, his voice soft but confident now. 

And just like that, the tension between you cracked, replaced by something softer—something real. 

The night wasn’t over, though. As you walked together under the streetlights, still laughing about how you’d both somehow ended up drenched in rain, it felt like the beginning of something new. Something that wasn’t perfect or easy, but something that felt right. 

“I’m glad we did this,” he said, taking your hand in his, fingers lacing together naturally. “Ramen’s good, but this? This is better.” 

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “Yeah, it is.” 

And for the first time, you weren’t worried. You didn’t need to know where it was all going because whatever happened, you were in it together now. 

“You know,” you teased, leaning into him a little, “next time, we’re bringing an umbrella.” 

He laughed, pulling you closer. “Deal.” 

You didn’t need anything else. Just this, just him, and that was enough. 

A few months had passed since everything had shifted between you and Chifuyu. The routine had settled into something comfortable. Most weekends were spent at his apartment or yours, and the cats—Peke J and your cat—had become inseparable. Watching them snuggle together, it wasn’t just the cats growing closer, but you and chifuyu too. 

Tonight, you were sitting on the couch, half-watching a new show, when you heard the familiar sound of your cat meowing. Looking over, you saw her walk over to chifuyu’s lap and nudge his hand with her head. 

“Hey, come on, you’ve got to pay attention to me too,” you teased, tossing a pillow at him. 

But chifuyu just smiled, his hand already reaching down to pet your cat. "She’s my girl now too, y/n." 

You rolled your eyes, but it didn’t surprise you. That was what happened, right? Over time, the cats got closer, and so did you. It was one of those things you’d laugh about, but deep down, you knew. They weren’t the only ones getting closer every day. 

You reached for his hand, feeling the comfort of the routine, of him being here. The connection between you was undeniable now, deeper than you’d imagined when this all began. It didn’t need to be perfect. It didn’t need to be complicated. It was just right. 

After a long moment, chifuyu turned to you, his eyes soft in the dim light. “You know, we’ve never really said it…” he started, his voice quiet. 

You met his gaze, a knowing smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, but I think we both know.” 

He hesitated, then squeezed your hand. “I love you, y/n.” 

Your heart skipped at the words, warm and sincere. A smile spread across your face as you leaned in slightly, his hand still in yours. “I love you too, Chifuyu.” 

It was simple, just those three words, but they carried all the weight of everything you’d shared and everything you were still discovering. There was no grand moment or elaborate confession, just the two of you, right here, where you both belonged. 

The cats—already inseparable—curled closer to each other after yours had jumped off of chifuyu, their content purring filling the silence as you and Chifuyu sat side by side, hands entwined. The world outside was far away, and in this moment, everything felt perfectly in place. 

[thecordelialetters]

I’ll love you in every multiverse Pt. 2 I Five Hargreeves x Reader

Post Apocalypse Au! WC: 1.8k Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4

Summary: The Umbrella’s can understand jumping through time and all its rules, yeah fuck with the timeline and it’ll fuck you right back. But what happens when a portal opens up in the middle of the academy and outfalls a girl who claims to be Five’s wife from a different universe.

It had been four hours since you and Five arrived at the library. Piles and piles of books surrounded the two of you, none of which seemed to have the answers you needed. Equations were littered across the table and papers were strewn about. Five spoke up a few feet away from where you were sitting. "Im getting nowhere. I think we need to start from square one with my formula for time travel and superimpose that on the multiversal possibility." You looked at him ready to ask for a simpler explanation but when you saw his eyes focused on the paper ahead of him, you couldn't help but feel a throb in your chest. You missed your Five. The feel of his skin, the look of love in his eyes, the tone of his voice when he said he loved you. Five noticed your silence and looked up. "Are you okay?" You looked away blinking back tears. "Yeah I'm fine, let's just keep looking." But Five sensed you were no longer in the mood to research, so he got up and held his hand to you.

"Come on, staring at these pages too long will fry your brain, let's get some food." You grabbed his hand and savored the warmth it held. Each callous represented the number of missions he went through, though it was clean of the blood he shed it felt like home. If this was home, if this was before the fight, you and Five might be sitting together, not 5 feet apart, reading books. Perhaps the two of you would be in comfortable silence, your feet in his lap and his hand massaging your ankle every once in a while. Maybe he would look over, and you would glance back, peaking over the words of little women, one of your faves. Possibly he would put his book down and climb over to you . He would kiss your cheek, then your neck, and then settle in a comfortable spot beside you.

A cough from this universe's Five pulled you out of your reverie. The two of you ended up in a small Chinese takeout place that was decorated to the brim with gaudy oriental lanterns and curtains. It wasn't too busy, the noise mostly consisted of the cooking in the back and the occasional ring of the phone. Five brought over two containers, pork and white rice with steamed vegetables for himself and beef broccoli lo main for you. Surprisingly even this Five subconsciously knew what you wanted.

“How,” he looked uncomfortable, as if he didn’t know how to talk anymore. “How have you uh been so far?” He put a big spoonful of rice in his mouth as if it were to stop him from asking another bland question.

Awkwardly you looked to the side, “I’ve been fine, missing home, worried about how my husbands doing, worried how I'll be able to get back, if I could get back.” You paused for a second, pursing your lips at the thought. “Wondering what I’ll do if I can’t get back.”

The sentence brought tears to your eyes, as if saying it out loud only solidified the possibility of it.

Despite thinking you’d flinch back, Five hesitantly reached over to touch your hand. But you didn’t, it was an action he had done a million times over. "I will do everything I can to help you." His eyes held so much sincerity at that moment. Behind the relief you felt at that statement, you felt a question poke your subconscious. Maybe it was the fact that he was another version of your husband, but he looked so handsome and sweet in that moment, that you actually thought about leaning over to kiss him. Five looked at you deeply after promising to help you get home, but he wasn't sure if he even meant what he said. Some part of him enjoyed having you around. You already knew him and he was still shocked that in another world he was able to have you. The two of you finished up your food while making some small talk about your old life, and what his previous plans were. Walking back home was a comfortable silence, two hands occasionally brushed up against one another without the confidence to fully connect.

It was late when you arrived at the academy, a tired look adorning your face with sleepy yawns escaping your mouth. Five gingerly led you through the entrance to his room. He left you sitting on the bed and brought back an assortment of things. "I grabbed you a towel, toothbrush, and an extra set of pajamas. There is a bathroom right outside to your left and if you need anything I'll be sleeping in Vanya's old room." You peeked up at him through thick lashes, "Thanks Five." He closed the door and left the room to clean up for bed. As he was changing he imagined yourself helping him get ready, maybe playfully joking while the two of you brushed your teeth. What were you like in bed, not in that way, but how did you sleep? Did you cuddle him? Did you prefer to be big spoon or little spoon, did you snore? It was 2 hours and he was still imagining the life the two of you would have, did have. His wife. He had Delores and his family, but settling down with a real woman and being able to live a peaceful domestic life was something he thought was a farfetched dream in this world.

Meanwhile, as you got ready for bed you started to look around Five’s room. Everything from his childhood was here. He definitely had a knack for math seeing the equations everywhere and the toy trains on his dresser. You couldn’t imagine young Five being too different from older Five, probably a smart ass. Lifting the covers you slid into the bed engulfed by his scent. Closing your eyes you swore you felt a ghost of an arm reaching around you.

The lights from the window hitting your eyes woke you up. You laid under the covers relishing the warmth, your hand moved over to your left, a cold spot where Five would have been. Your heart yearned for him like crazy, and wondered what he was doing right now and if he was okay. Getting up you got ready for the day, brushed your teeth washed your face before digging through Allison's closet for more normal clothes. Deciding on a pair of jeans and a tank top you made your way down the stairs where you were greeted by Five accompanied by an all-American breakfast, bacon eggs, and toast. "There's some coffee in the pot, creamer in the fridge, and sugar here." He gestured to the counter with a cup in his hand. "Thank you Five, this smells delicious." You let your hair fall over your face to hide your smile. Sweet. That was sweet of him. "Where uh is everyone else?" You hadn't seen anyone at the estate since you arrived. "Im not sure they usually like to go off on their own." Short and sweet, Okay probably wouldn't be getting much help from them. You made yourself a cup and sat down at the counter across from him. He stood there staring at his notebook and occasionally sipped his drink. You probably stared at him longer than necessary because he looked up at you. Green eyes met brown until yours flickered away. "Sorry It's just, you," you paused to think of the right words. "You're him, I can't stop thinking about him."

It looked like Five was having an inner conflict before one side eventually won. He swiftly rounded the corner, face hovering just above your head. "I'm not him...but I hope this helps." He wrapped his arms around your body. Your nose buried in his shirt, the feel, the smell it was all so overwhelming. You brought your hands around him and clung back, eyes clenched so tight as if he would disappear the minute they opened. "Please don't go" you whispered. "I would never." He replied. An outsider, upon looking at the two, would never guess they were strangers. This was a lover's embrace. Surprisingly you were the first to let go while Five continued to squish you. Slowly he loosened his grip, but not before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "Do... Do you think I'll find her? My (y/n)?" He pulled away to look at you. You bite your lip, you didn't want to give him false hope nor want to crush him. "I don't know, there's no way to tell for sure. Maybe one day you'll cross paths. But know this." You grabbed his hand and put it over your wedding ring. "You'll make her the happiest girl in the world. And she will love you, all of you, for everything you are." It took everything in him to not kiss you, you weren't really his. The walk back to the library was quiet. Not a comfortable silence like before but there felt like there was an elephant in the room. The tension between the two of you was like a thick block of concrete. You pulled out 4 books from across the library and brought it over to the table the two of you sat at. "Here this one deals with multiversal theories, this one deals with the quantum realm, and this one is about space-time and math." The last book unbeknownst to Five was actually Viktor's memoir. You had seen it discarded in a "free book!" bin and was curious about what information it contained. While your study partner was busy with equations, you silently skimmed the book under the table. You read about the pain Reginald Hargreeves inflicted on the children, how Viktor felt like an outsider in his own home, how the children struggled with the lack of love at home, and the day Five jumped. There wasn't much about the actual day but what happened after, and Viktor's grief coming to terms with it. It was heartbreaking to read, even more so when you read about Ben's death.

Before you could read any further a cough snapped you out of your concentration. "So from what I gathered...we are going to need a lot of equipment. Now there's a lot of inheritance money left from my father but it's going to take a while." He grimaced, Five felt bad. He felt bad that you were probably suffering. “Don’t worry I’m going to help you, we’ll work day and night to get this thing going. It'll take having to use our powers and though, are you okay with that?” He knew that using your powers siphoned your life force and he didn’t want to risk that. “If that's what it'll take for me to get home then so be it.” You nodded comfortably. “I’ll try as much as I can to make sure you don’t use too much, but nothing's certain.”

He would make it certain. In the few days he'd spent with you, it wasn't hard to imagine eternity. No matter what he would make sure you could get home safely.

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Author's note: I know I haven't posted in forever but I have like so many chapters in my draft sooooo... be on the look out for She's my angel as well ! She's my Angel Pt1. Shes my Angel Pt2.

Taglist : @cialovesklopp , @lovehatekill

[sexlapis]

What if y/n and toji got into an argument and like the fans can tell and then they make up 🤭

awwww yesss :(((

making up

actor!toji x actor/actress!reader

parasocial relationships, making up, petnames (‘kid’)

actor!toji masterlist

*

fans don’t know what happened, but you and toji seem to be so…distant all of a sudden.

one day there were clips of the two of you on set, being all touchy and giggly and happy but then the next…you two hardly touched each other, we’re clearly avoiding one another and barely a glance was spared between either of you.

you and toji’s fanbase had no idea what happened and, being the people in a parasocial relationship with two actors that they were, they descended into panic and chaos.

rumours started flying around the internet, claiming that you and toji have broken up, that the “tojiyn ship has sunk” and “rip tojiyn”. accounts dedicated to you and toji as a couple were in tatters and dispair, threatening to close their whole accounts if this rumour was confirmed. many of your own fans were upset, but others were hoping for this rumour to be true, as they didn’t even think toji deserved you anyway and they had no shame in letting that be known. this could also be said for toji’s fans - they were happy to see you gone so that they could be delusional and hope to have a chance with the toji fushiguro. hell, even some body language interpreters jumped in to analyse the clips of you and toji. it was crazy to say the least.

your mangers had to call you both out on it and they told you both to suck it up and stop making things difficult for yourselves.

the reason for the argument?

it was a silly thing really.

you were just tired and stressed out from work. you didn’t mean to shout and snap at toji even though he was being kind to you. but you did. you’re sure he didn’t mean to shout back at you either. but he did. you didn’t really want to storm out of his house and back to your apartment. but you did.

and you both have barely spoken since.

tears well up in your eyes as you sit on the ledge of a sidewalk outside the building you’re filming in, cars blurring past you, fluorescent lights streamlining across your vision while you hold your head in your hands.

i guess i’ll be working overtime tonight.

the sky is dark and the streetlights suddenly come to life, casting a golden glow around you.

you sigh, resting your head on your knees, mind still stuck on toji.

“hey.”

a yelp leaves your mouth. you turn your head and- speak of the devil, there stands toji with his hands in his pockets, looking awkward and uncomfortable.

“toji! you hiss. “you scared me!” you look away and back at the busy street.

“right- sorry ‘bout that,” toji seems flustered when he huffs out his words, scratching the back of his head and puffing out his cheeks before strolling and plopping down right next to you, “‘think it’s time we talked, kid.”

guilt stirs up in your chest and you pick at your nails, “m’yeah. maybe…”

toji sighs and scoots closer to you, placing his hand over your fidgety ones. he smooths his thumb over your knuckles.

“look, m’sorry, alright?” toji utters softly, his eyes tender as he looks into yours. “‘shouldn’t ‘a shouted at you. i was a fucking dick.”

you bark out a slightly tearful laugh and blink out the glossiness in your eyes. “yeah, no, it was my fault too. i was an asshole. you were being wayy too nice.”

you look at him and he’s smiling, a dimple appearing on his left cheek.

toji looked so sweet, in his cosy, black winter coat and beanie.

humming, you slide a little closer to him, holding your hands out, “forgive me?”

toji scoffs and basically lurches forward, tugging you onto his lap in your arms as he litters your face with kisses, making you cackle and flush.

“yeah, kid, i forgive ya.” toji speaks and places one final kiss on your forehead.

*

the next day, photos of you and toji sitting on a sidewalk and cuddling flood the timelines of your fans, who (mostly) rejoice in the clear reconciliation of whatever unknown incident took place.

a/n: yeah actor toji is so back woohoo

[quitesins]

Dragon!Reader Pulls Out Her Teeth

Masterlist | Part One | Part Two

Tags: 18+, Sfw, Short, Female!Reader, Non Mc!Reader/Reader is not Mc, Current timeline, Self inflicted injuries [Reader pulls out her teeth], Sylus is somewhat physically aggressive and infantilising, Mc is in this!! Say hiiii!!!

This is a biiiiggg jump in time. Reader is a lot more comfortable with not just Sylus but also Mc and the twins. And yes every snippet so far has just been reader tearing herself apart and sylus having to deal with it… sorry everypony…

There was a good two months where you couldn’t speak at all. Not that you were particularly talkative in the first place, mostly communicating in immature huffs and nudges. But now the few words you did use, came out in garbled sounds, barely comprehensible.

You’d pulled out half your teeth on whim while Sylus was away. Your human teeth had started to push out by bigger, sharper ones, and now they’d finally fully grown in. You hated them. They were disgustingly jagged, jaw too small to even fit the majority, and you’d cut the inside of your cheeks far too many times already, leaving you to deal with the unfortunate ulcers.

It was from pure frustration did you extract your claws— a skill Sylus definitely did not teach you for this— and started ripping out each tooth.

The twins found you first, face a bloodied mess, calling Sylus quickly. They got their share of a scolding over the phone.

You’re over the sink when Sylus returns, a cold cloth stained red in your mouth. Sylus yanks you by the jaw, his hold harsh. Like the pain tries to get away from him, it shoots up to your head, making you hiss. He grins smugly.

“They don’t grow back as fast the first time round.” The bastard enjoys your self sabotage. “You’ll have fun drinking all your meals from now on, won’t you little dragon.”

There’s a low growl at the end of that word. You’ve come to realise he only calls you it when he’s pissed. Spitting it out like a slur.

You ignore his vitriol, coming to understand what he actually means. With no teeth, you can’t chew. The shock on your face makes the twins cackle in the background, still bitter from their earlier reprimand.

Sylus shuts them up with a look, clutch softening for a second. You think he’s about to let go when his fingers trace the cloth, but he just snatches it out, the force dragging you with it. He catches you in your stumble, but doesn’t let you rest, fingers thrusting into your mouth and prying it open.

“Don’t fuss now.” His inspection is demeaning. “You did this to yourself.”

There’s no gentleness in Sylus’s examination, his irritation clear in each tug and press. You’d been so good recently. Listening eagerly as he taught you to disguise your draconic features, instead of trying to get rid of them entirely. He’d thought you were over your proclivity for self mutilation, but the exposed and still leaking gum proved otherwise.

You take momentary relief when he unexpectedly lets go, shifting away. But you’re unable to compose yourself when you realise why.

It’s Emcee. Walking in with a plushie larger than herself. Her eyes make contact with yours first. Suddenly a horrible embarrassment falls over you.

You want to hide from her the most. Emcee was the only person you liked really, the only person you didn’t feel obligated to interact with. Unlike Sylus, conversations with Emcee felt real, like she wasn’t trying to subtly prod information out. Sylus was always too greedy, as if he was seeking something in you, something you weren’t even sure existed. Emcee made talking comfortable, enjoyable, her snarky jabs at Sylus having nothing to do with it, of course.

And now you were stuck, jaw clenched as much as you could with a bunch of broken teeth, humiliated that she’d caught you in such a state.

Sylus doesn’t do anything to stop Emcee from rushing over, concern evident in her voice. He knows how much you like her. He can see it in your eyes— that you beg for him to take her away, settle her distress and return to whatever outing they were on. But the opportunity is too perfect, to teach you a lesson through your own mortification.

“Sy…” Emcee says, still fretting over you. “You’ve got to take her to the hospital.”

You make a muddled sound in protest, shaking your head wildly. Your hands are over hers, the ones that rest gently on your cheeks, trying to convince her that you’re fine, it’s okay. She looks at you with humbling pity. You stop your shaking, not wanting to argue.

“Well then, little dragon,” Sylus speaks, self-satisfied, already knowing the answer, “Shall we go.”

Looking through the scrunch of your brow, you feel the worried stare of Emcee, even the twins peer over in expectation.

You concede, nodding your head in bitter acceptance.

Hopefully this makes sense… grahhh… anyways, I like writing sylus a bit mean because I miss main story sylus… the romantic indulgence is fun n all, but ouuuu there was sumn abt him looking so annoyed all the time that did it fa me…

The next stuff in this au will probably be set before this scene, this really is wayyyy later in the tl in ma head..

[ceceswithnopizza]

3.46k words

A seemingly disappointing birthday turns into a little getaway for Maryn after she wins miss world and who better to spend it with than Aaron. Masterlist

This contains mentions depictions of staying at a poor mental health facility and nothing else to heavy, I want to speed up Maryn and Mabel’s journey to really get to Aaron and Maryns love story… so bear with me please.

Timeline Maryns met Aaron at the gala in Feb, it’s now May. This chapter takes place over the weekend. The dinner is Sat and the kiss happens on sun.

ꨄ

Here I was, once again, on the stage that started it all. Well, not the exact same stage, but the sash around me felt just as heavy, the fabric the same. Only the words were different now. The girls standing beside me were new faces, but their whispers and side glances—their shit-talking—felt eerily familiar. The lights burned as hot as I remembered, searing into my skin like they were part of the ritual. I was such an idiot for thinking it would ever be over. In the pageant world, you can’t just win and stop.

You start with the baby contests, then you move to junior competitions, and eventually, you make it to the big leagues. Beautiful girls from every corner of life—nepo babies with their air of entitlement, and girls who, like me, clawed their way up from nothing. Some girls used pills to coke, tapeworms to anorexia, anything to stay on top. To win Modeling contracts, movie roles, music deals—whatever the prize, you gave up pieces of yourself to get it.

I’d jumped through every hoop. I’d sashayed and smiled before the judges, even Marlon Beck. He was all too eager to forgive my past "mistakes" and save my ass with Mabel, of course—for a price. Nothing in this world comes without a price. And the more you want, the stranger the currency.

Back to where the sterile air reeked of bleach, All the monotone voices with their passive smiles—smiles faker than mine.

“I just want to help you,” the counselor would say, her words syrupy with insincerity. “They’re worried about you.”

Lies. Every word ignited something deep inside me, but I swallowed the flames, knowing that speaking out would only make it worse. Her notepad, its yellow pages already scrawled with lies, sat perched in her lap like a loaded weapon. The scratching sound of the rubber pen with a dull tip as I signed my name. Over and over bored out of my mind.

Then there was the medicine—the taunting voices it silenced in my head were replaced by a heavier, darker fog. The pills weighed on my brain, turning it into thick, heavy soil where no clarity could grow.

I’d give anything to never go back to that place.

“You have less than a minute to answer, Ms. United States of America. The question is: Is this your dream?” The pretty woman read from the prompter, glancing at the countdown timer projected on the wall.

No. Hell no. This was nothing like it should’ve been the farthest thing from what I deserved, what I had earned. That was what I wanted to say, but my game face held steady. I smiled with practiced poise and delivered the winning answer, the words flowing like honey, sweet and insincere.

The applause roared around me as I walked back to my place, standing beside Ms. Canada. My hands clutched the folds of my gown, my heart pounding beneath my chest. This wasn’t my dream. But on this stage, under these lights, it had to be.

The real beating came backstage. Everyone else may have been satisfied with my performance, but Mabel wouldn’t be. I could feel it in the air, her eyes on me, like she was waiting for me to slip up. Ricardo had saved my ass those few weeks ago, but I knew it couldn’t be him again. It was either me or him, and I couldn’t keep being selfish. It hurt, but I couldn’t let him suffer for me.

Ricky had been Mabel’s godson since he was born. His family had money, so did Mabel. They were close, grew up together, and when Ricky’s mother, Honey, caught his eye, I could see the anger in Mabel. Honey had something she’d wanted for decades, but she settled and played her role.

When Ricky was born, Mabel was his emergency contact, and after James and Honey died, it was all hers—Ricky and the money. Everything went into her hands, including the memories. She could’ve kept the photos, the videos, the moments of a life she didn’t care about, but she burned them. What remained was just the money, and she held it like a prize. That’s all she cared about, that’s all she ever would.

I could feel my body start to betray me. I hadn’t eaten all day, and the emptiness in my stomach was becoming a black hole. My vision blurred, spinning, as I stumbled backstage, dizziness taking over. The world felt too heavy.

"Ricky, where is my lancet? I think I need sugar," I murmured, barely able to catch my breath.

"Where did you pack it?" Ricky’s voice, frantic, cut through the haze, searching for it.

I felt my body slump. “I—. She didn’t pack it. I did.” Mabel said cutting me off standing against the door like a lion about to pounce. “Just like I do everything around here. And for that fat, ditzy bitch to embarrass me like that, and then stuff herself with sweets. Ha. No. I don’t think so."

Mabel sneered and shoved it into her pocket. She didn’t even care that I could go into shock. I had diabetes since I was 15 years old.

I leaned back into the couch, my head swimming, when she grabbed my face with sharp, cold hands. Her nails dug into my skin, her fingers like vices. She twisted, pushing in my jaw, and I could feel the scrape of her nails along my neck. It hurt. It hurt more than I could handle, but I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t give her the satisfaction. Not now.

I hissed, trying to blink the pain away, but the tears formed, and I could feel them threatening to fall. The last thing I needed was to cry. I needed to be strong, even though the strength was slipping away with each second.

“You have the audacity to cry when you’re the one who slapped me in the face?” Mabel spat, her voice like acid. She jerked my head roughly to the right, tilting it painfully, forcing me to look at her. My chest tightened. The cold, judgmental light above us made everything feel so sterile, so clinical. Like I wasn’t a person, just something to punish.

“I-I’m sorry,” I stammered, my voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to... really... the medicine....” I swallowed hard, hoping my words would make sense, hoping they would lessen the wrath that was building inside her.

She cut me off with a sharp, cruel laugh. “No. It didn’t.”

I froze. The small, weak part of me that had hoped for some kind of mercy, some kind of understanding, crumbled. I whimpered like a child being told no for the first time, and all I could do was stare at her, helpless.

She stormed out, slamming the door behind her, leaving me there on the couch, heart pounding, chest tight with fear. Alone.

“Ssh, it’s okay. Here,” Ricky’s voice was a lifeline, soft and calming. I didn’t deserve it, but he was there, kneeling beside me, pulling a ziplock bag of my favorite candies from his pocket. I didn’t feel like I could move. I felt paralyzed, the weight of everything pressing down on me. Every part of me just wanted to escape. I didn’t want to feel anymore.

Ricky fed me a piece of candy, his hand gentle, guiding it to my lips. I let myself take it, even though I didn’t want to. His actions felt like the only thing keeping me tethered to reality, even though part of me wished I could just let go.

The weariness washed over me, pulling at my limbs like I was being swallowed whole. My head rested back, and the harsh, cold air stung my skin for a second before Ricky put his hoodie around me, the warmth of it wrapping me in a fleeting comfort.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his thick Dominican accent brushing against my ears.

“It’s okay” was all I could say before sleep took over, drowning everything else out.

But as I drifted off, my thoughts spiraled. What was I doing? How had it come to this? I had no control, not anymore. Mabel had me trapped in a cage of her making, and all I could do was survive it. I wasn’t strong enough for anything else, and maybe not even that.

-

Eventually, I got up, the sun outside dimming as it faded into a golden-orange hue, casting long shadows across the room. I sat on my pink silk sheets, my eyes trailing aimlessly around my space. There was a heaviness in my chest I couldn’t shake, but I pushed it aside. Despite everything, I couldn’t deny the small spark of satisfaction I felt in the plumpness of my lips and the way my lashes framed my eyes. Little things, but they made me feel... okay. Maybe even pretty.

I stretched my arms toward the ceiling, letting out a yawn that ended in a deep sigh. There was no avoiding it—I had a job to do tonight. My task was simple enough: look my prettiest and flatter Marlon Beck until his ego inflated like a balloon. The thought made me cringe, but I couldn’t afford not to.

The warm embrace of a hot bath called to me, and I answered, stepping into the steamy water I’d filled with Epsom salts and a frothy bubble bath. The lavender scent wrapped itself around me as I lowered into the tub, letting the heat ease the tension in my body. My head rested against the cool porcelain edge of the clawfoot tub, my eyes fluttering closed.

For a brief moment, I allowed myself to exist.

Birthdays used to mean something. Now, for the last five years, they’d been nothing but a source of sadness—a reminder of what I’d lost. The edges of those dark thoughts crept in, like unwelcome guests at the door of my mind, threatening to pull me under. But no. Not this time. I was tired of being sad.

And then I heard it: a small, familiar voice, soft at first but growing louder.

“Whose birthday is it?” Mama asked, her tone warm and full of love.

The memory unfolded like a movie reel. I saw myself as a little girl, standing beside her. My store-bought Princess Tiana dress had deep creases from being folded too long in its plastic bag, but I didn’t care. The matching plastic heels clicked and clacked as I jumped up and down, the plastic strap with Tiana’s smiling face barely keeping my feet in place.

“It’s my birthday, Mama!” little me chirped, her voice high-pitched and brimming with excitement.

“And how old are you?” she asked, her smile so wide it could’ve lit up the room.

The kitchen had been transformed. The cluttered counters and table had been replaced by a large white folding table, its front draped with a “Happy Birthday” banner that sagged slightly in the middle, with presents littered everywhere.

“I’m 10!” I exclaimed, my grin nearly splitting my face.

“Ten years old,” Mama said, clapping her hands together. “Let’s all sing happy birthday!”

The memory swelled. My older cousin walked in carrying a cake, and the smile on my face grew impossibly wider. They set the cake down on the table, and the familiar birthday tune began.

“How old are you?” they sang, their voices overlapping.

“10!” I shouted, my voice bursting with pride.

“How old are you?” they repeated, louder this time.

“10!” I screamed again, puffing my chest out like it made me bigger.

The song ended, and I leaned over to blow out the candles. The sound of cheers and laughter filled the air as the candles went out, replaced by the smell of melting wax and sweet frosting.

The memory faded, leaving me sitting in the tub with a bittersweet ache in my chest. That little girl—the one jumping up and down, her plastic heels clicking, her heart full of pure, untainted joy—I was so jealous of her. I wanted to be her again. I wanted to feel that kind of happiness again.

Maybe... maybe that started with a choice. A choice to fight.

I sat up, the water rippling around me as I scrubbed myself clean. When I was done, I dried off and coated myself in lotion and perfume, determined to put the memory to good use.

The familiar sound of knobs turning and a door clicking open pulled me from my thoughts. I sat at my vanity, wrapped in a soft robe, my cluttered makeup station lit by the warm glow of the bulbs around the mirror. I scrolled through my phone, searching for outfit inspiration.

“Maria, are you decent?” Ricky’s voice called out my middle name from the hallway. He pushed the door open a crack, his hand covering his eyes.

“Why’d you come in if you thought I wasn’t dressed, perv?” I teased, a small smirk tugging at my lips.

Ricky rolled his eyes, clicking his teeth. “Happy 25th birthday!” he said, stepping inside with a pink gift box in one hand and a small cake in the other. He pulled a tiny confetti popper from his pocket and let it off with a grin.

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of me as I rushed to hug him. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice softer than I intended.

“Come here,” he said, beckoning me over to the bed. He placed the pink box in front of me and opened it to reveal a heart-shaped mini cake.

“Your favorite,” he said proudly. “Red velvet. And I made sure to tell them you like it dense.”

He began singing “Happy Birthday,” his deep voice filling the room. When the song ended, he sat beside me, waiting expectantly.

“Aren’t you going to eat your cake?” he asked. “It’s your favorite.”

I hesitated, glancing at the cake before shaking my head. “I can’t,” I said, standing to adjust my robe. “I’ll get bigger.”

Ricky frowned. “Maria, you’re barely a hundred pounds soaking wet. A slice of cake isn’t going to change that.” He picked up the knife and cut a piece, holding it out to me. “Forget what Mabel says. It’s your day, and she won’t even be back for another two weeks.”

I crossed my arms. “But she left prepped meals. She’s going to know if I don’t eat them. She’ll notice if I gain weight.”

Ricky’s jaw tightened. “Let me deal with Mabel,” he said, his tone firm. “She doesn’t need to know everything.”

“She always finds out,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “She told me I’d be nothing more than an addict. Do you think she’s right?”

Ricky crouched in front of me, his eyes searching mine for an answer. “No. Of course not. You’ve been sober for six months, Ricky. You’re doing amazing.”

“She doesn’t have power over me anymore,” he continued. “She only did because of the drugs. But I’m free now. I found my brother, and he has pictures, videos—proof of everything. I’m going to settle this. She won’t be able to hurt us anymore.”

He kissed my forehead, lingering for just a moment, before walking out.

Could I finally be free?

-

The restaurant was cloaked in an air of quiet sophistication, the kind of place where the conversations were low, the laughter subdued, and the clink of cutlery against fine china almost hypnotic. The ambiance was steeped in luxury, the dark wooden walls polished to a gleam, their antique charm complemented by ornate golden inlays. Everything here seemed timeless, as if the room itself was frozen in a moment meant to impress.

I sat a few feet away from the balcony’s intricate wrought-iron banister, the design curling like ivy vines, each detail catching the faint light of the crystal chandelier hanging above. The chandelier was massive, the kind of centerpiece that drew your eye even when you didn’t want to look. Its crystals refracted soft greens and yellows, casting an ethereal glow over the glass shelving lining the walls. The shelves were filled with gleaming bottles that sparkled like jewels, their liquid contents shimmering in the chandelier’s light.

My chair was a deep maroon, upholstered in velvet so soft it felt like sinking into a cloud. Golden details were woven into the armrests and back, their intricate patterns catching the light with every slight shift. I tried to let the elegance of my surroundings distract me, to lose myself in the hushed murmur of conversations coming from the floor below. There, couples and groups sat in matching maroon chairs at circular tables draped in crisp white tablecloths. The flicker of candlelight played across their faces as they laughed and sipped wine, their plates piled with food that looked almost too beautiful to eat.

But none of it could keep my mind from wandering. I checked my watch again, the time staring back at me like a cruel joke. Marlon was an hour late. An hour. The realization settled heavily in my chest, making my heart ache in that dull, familiar way.

He had forced me into this date, had insisted with that charming, condescending smile of his that I clear my schedule. And now he had the audacity—the gaul—to stand me up.

The soft hum of the restaurant couldn’t drown out my spiraling thoughts. My gaze drifted to the empty seat across from me, its maroon upholstery mocking me. A lump formed in my throat, hot and humiliating.

If even Marlon Beck—someone who’d sleep with just about anyone—didn’t want me, what did that say about me?

The question clung to me like a wet cloak, its weight dragging me further into the darkness. It wasn’t just about this date or him not showing up; it was about everything. Every rejection, every misstep, every time I had felt like I wasn’t enough. The restaurant seemed to grow quieter, the glow of the chandelier dimming in my mind as my thoughts consumed me.

I was sinking into that familiar pit when a soft voice broke through.

“Ma’am, could I get you anything?”

The waitress’s voice startled me, pulling me back to the present. I blinked up at her, her kind eyes framed by dark lashes, her expression gentle but professional.

I straightened in my chair, trying to shake the heaviness off me, if only for a moment. “Um…” I hesitated, my thoughts catching up to my surroundings. My mind flitted back to the menu I had studied earlier.

“I’ll have the six-ounce filet mignon, medium rare, with the white veggie rice,” I finally said, my voice steadier than I expected.

She nodded, her smile softening the edges of my embarrassment as she leaned forward to pour water into my glass.

As she walked away, I sank back into the maroon chair, the plush velvet cradling me. I looked down at my watch again, though I already knew what it would say. Marlon wasn’t coming.

The flickering light of the chandelier caught my eye again, the greens and yellows reflecting faintly on the golden inlays of the banister. Somewhere below, a burst of laughter erupted from one of the tables, sharp and bright. It made me smile.

I reached for my water glass and took a slow sip, letting the cool liquid slide down my throat. My thoughts felt heavier now, like stones stacking one on top of the other. Still, a small part of me wanted to believe this didn’t mean anything. That it wasn’t about me. But that part was small, and tonight, it felt impossibly far away.

The restaurant’s quiet hum wrapped around me, a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside my chest. I kept my gaze fixed on the chandelier above, the delicate greens and yellows refracting off the crystal, as if willing the sight to distract me from the empty seat across the table. But it didn’t. I traced my finger along the edge of the white tablecloth, a nervous habit that felt more pathetic with each passing second.

Marlon wasn’t coming.

I let out a soft sigh, trying to push the hurt down. It didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. If I let myself wallow, I’d only fall deeper into that pit I’d been clawing my way out of for years. Instead, I reached for my water, taking another sip as I focused on the faint ripple in the glass.

And then, I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye.

A tall figure stepped into the dining area, scanning the tables. His warm brown eyes landed on me, and his face broke into a relieved smile. Aaron.

“Aaron?” I said aloud before I could stop myself, my voice tinged with surprise.

“Hey, Maryn,” he greeted, his tone soft and unassuming as always. He hesitated for a moment, his hand gripping the back of the chair across from me. “Is this seat taken?”

I blinked, glancing at the empty chair Marlon was supposed to fill.

A pang of disappointment surged through me, but I pushed it aside. “No, go ahead,” I said, offering him a small smile.

Aaron sat down, his movements careful, as if he didn’t want to disturb the fragile air around us. He adjusted his jacket and looked at me with a sheepish grin. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”

“Same,” I replied, watching him closely. Aaron had always been... different. Steady. Kind in a way that didn’t demand attention but lingered in the little things he did.

“I, uh, saw you sitting here alone,” he continued, his voice dipping lower, “and I thought maybe you could use some company. If that’s okay?”

I hesitated for a fraction of a second, my mind briefly flickering back to Marlon and the sting of rejection. But then I looked at Aaron’s earnest face, and something in me softened. “Of course it’s okay,” I said, my smile growing a little wider.

The waitress returned just then, her eyes flicking between the two of us before settling on me. “Would you like me to add anything to your order?”

Aaron looked at me questioningly, but I waved him off. “I already ordered. But Aaron, you should get something.”

He glanced at the menu, quickly scanning it before nodding. “I’ll have the vodka pasta please,” he said before handing the menu back to the waitress.

As she walked away, Aaron turned his attention fully to me. “So, what brings you here tonight? Fancy dinner for one?”

His teasing tone was gentle, but it still made my cheeks warm. I shrugged, “It was supposed to be something like a date I guess but it’s also my birthday.” I said

His eyes lit up and he gave me a toothy grin raising his eyebrows. “ May 29th you’re a fellow Gemini!” He pointed out making me scrunch my face playfully.

“Oh don’t tell me you’re one of those people.” I said with a blissful laugh.

“No- no I’m not that into it like those people who blame everything on mercury.” He belled laughing with me. The night went on a turned into an amazing evening.

Somehow we ended up on the streets of the city having a great time walking on the dark empty beach, talking, having non stop smiles of pure joy on our faces.

“How do you think people will react to this.” His accent flushing my moonlit skin.

“I don’t care I having fun!” I said I haven’t felt this good in a very long time. “I love them but forget the people who’ll care. It’s weird because I’m a public figure and all but people are just way too invested.” I drew out the brandy I had clearly speaking in innards.

“Yeah we need to get you some water.” He said making me burst into laughter I looked to my left where we were sitting in the sand.

His eyes even prettier in the dark this glistening skin smelling thick and rich. He sat next to me in a dark button up and dark slacks the sleeves rolled up showcasing the lion tattoo on his forearm. I could already tell he knew what I was laughing at.

“Can I? please.” I begged as he rolled his eyes at me before nodding his head.

“Wha-uh!” I exaggerated going into another fit of laughter.

“Alright Ms.Queen let’s get you home.”

I woke to the faint aroma of coffee and the soft hum of a bird outside the window. For a moment, I wasn’t sure where I was. The ceiling above me wasn’t mine, nor was the slightly lumpy cushion beneath my head. My jacket was balled up beneath me, stiff and uncomfortable. Then it hit me. Maryn’s place. Turning over to my left reaching out for Maryn only to feel the coldness of where I layed her down.

I opened my eyes fully, squinting against the pale morning light that filtered through the curtains. The faint clatter of dishes came from the kitchen, followed by the sound of water running. I didn’t need to see her to know it was her.

Maryn had a presence that lingered, even when she wasn’t in the room.

Turning my head over to the left to see the toiletries shed layed out for me. As well as a t-shit and some basketball shorts.

I hadn’t planned on staying over but after dinner. I just couldn’t bring myself to leave.

Maryn intrigued me in ways I couldn’t quite explain. She had this strength about her, a quiet defiance that masked something softer underneath. She had a lively spirt I could feel.

I saw it in the way she brushed off the sting of the date that didn’t show, pretending it didn’t bother her when I knew it did. And I saw it now, in the way she moved through her space with purpose.

I glanced around again, taking in the details I’d missed last night the colors, little trinkets and cozy blankets she has sprawled in her home and on various things.

The sound of her voice startled me.

"Good morning," she said, poking her head around the corner. Her hair was tousled, and there was a smudge of flour on her cheek. She must’ve been baking something.

"Morning," I replied, my voice raspier than I expected. I cleared my throat and offered a smile. "You’re up early."

She shrugged, leaning against the doorway with a mug in her hands. "Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d make some tea. Want some?"

"Let’s see if an American can impress me with tea," I said, standing and stretching. Her lips curved into a smirk. "It’s an earl gray I put honey in mine." She said in a decent British accent.

I laughed, following her into the kitchen. The space was small but cozy, with mismatched mugs hanging from hooks and a calendar on the wall, each day marked with tiny scribbles.

She handed me a mug, and I took a sip, the warmth spreading through me. "All right, I’ll give it to you," I admitted. " at least one American knows how to make tea."

Her grin widened, and for a moment, All I could think about was how effortlessly beautiful she looked, standing there in her little kitchen, as if she belonged in a storybook. Her hair big and coily in a quick bun in a cropped large t-shirt and some plaid boys boxers.

I watched her move around, tidying up and humming softly under her breath. There was something grounding about being here with her, something I couldn’t quite put into words.

“Do you eat sausage?” She asked me turning around back to the stove.

“I do darling.” I tried my chances with a nickname as not looking out from her pots but I could tell she was smiling as she said “darling is that just a British thing or are you trying to flirt?” She said in her sweet southern accent

“This is some cheese grits, a biscuit, eggs, sausage, and some chocolate chip pancakes.” She briefed.

“This is a scone.” I said looking at the biscuit.

“No it a delicious biscuit, you wish you had these in London.” She said eyes sparking as she waited for me to take a bite.

As soon as I went to taste it she yelled “wait! Try it all together like make it a sandwich everything but the grits.” She said showing me hers. Doing as she said making my sandwich I dug in and relished in the flavor.

“I know thank you.” She cockily said

-

The sun was higher now, casting long shadows across Maryn’s living room. I stood by the window, coffee in hand, staring out at the lazy streets of the city. For a moment, I let myself forget that I wasn’t in London anymore. I wasn’t in some quiet corner of the world—no, I was in the whirlwind of Maryn’s life. The world outside wasn’t just any street; it was lined with the ever-present hum of fame, of cameras and eyes that would be watching her every move.

I turned, looking at the glossy kitchen island, the still-warm plates, and remnants of our breakfast. The intimacy of it all felt surreal, almost too normal for two people like us—celebrities who lived their lives under constant scrutiny.

“Hey,” Maryn’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I turned to find her leaning against the doorframe, wearing a comfortable oversized sweater and leggings. She had that soft glow that came from the sun casting on her brown eyes.

Is this how people feel about my eyes?

“Hey,” I replied, giving her a soft smile.

She took a breath, then pushed herself off the doorframe. “Wanna share favorite movies?” She asked me walking over to the couch.

“Yeah I need to show you some real classics.” I told her throwing her head back she let out a laugh before turning to me.

“Yea, okay we’ll see about that.” She said in another accent.

“This one is The color purple and it’s my favorite movie of all time.” She said as she flicked through Hulu putting the movie on.

The movie flickered softly on the screen, its warm glow casting fleeting shadows across the room. Maryn’s knees were tucked under her, the oversized hoodie slipping slightly off her shoulder, revealing soft skin that caught the light in a way that felt almost hypnotic. She smelt like vanilla in an intoxicating way.

I leaned back into the couch, pretending to watch the movie, but my focus kept drifting to her. The way her fingers curled to match Celies “Until you do right by me everything you do will crumble.” She said in sync.

My gaze lingering longer than I meant to. There was something about the way she tilted her head slightly, her everything enticing, making my chest tighten. She must have felt it because she shifted slightly, her movements slow, deliberate.

She turned her head, catching me in the act. Her eyes met mine. For a moment, neither of us said anything. The movie played on, but its sound faded to a distant murmur. It was just her, her eyes searching mine, as though she was trying to figure out what I was thinking, and I didn’t have the words to explain it.

Her lips parted, not to speak but as if she wanted to ask a question she wasn’t sure she should. My heart pounded, the air between us suddenly feeling heavier. She didn’t look away, and neither did I.

Her fingers, which had been idly tracing the blanket, stilled, her hand now just resting there—close but not close enough. Slowly, carefully, I reached out, my fingers brushing against hers. Her skin was soft, warm, and when she didn’t pull away, I let my hand settle over hers.

She didn’t look down at our hands, though. Her focus stayed on me, her eyes wide, I could feel her breath hitch softly, her chest rising and falling in time with mine,I was itching to having her in my hands. Skin to skin, bare with us.

I leaned forward, closing the distance an inch at a time. I could feel her hesitation, not in fear but in wonder, as though she was trying to decide if this was real. Her eyes flickered to my lips, then back to my eyes, and that was all I needed.

When my lips met hers, it was soft, tentative, as though we both wanted to take our time, to let this moment unfold naturally. Her lips moved against mine, slow and searching, and my heart thundered in my chest. Her hand turned under mine, her fingers lacing with mine as she leaned into the kiss, her weight shifting closer, her presence enveloping me.

Time disappeared. The movie became a distant hum, the world around us fading into a blur of muted light and the warmth of her touch. When we broke apart, her breath mingled with mine, the tip of her nose brushing against me as neither of us moved far. Her eyes opened, meeting mine again, and there was something raw and vulnerable in her gaze—something that made my chest tighten all over again.

Feeling the kiss still on my lips, I needed more. Ours heads buoying for a moment, leaning and her soft lips on mine. Breaking apart catching our breath.

“Do you want this?” I asked her my eyes etched on hers.

[utilitycaster]

You know, as we've been discussing past campaigns I've seen the argument that Vox Machina had a lot of break time and the Mighty Nein less, and Bells Hells almost none, and while I think there's a case for the last point, I don't think the first two are true!

I found when the comfort episode post was going around that people brought up episodes like 2x62, and the thing is, that is an episode where the party has a period of time to explore the city without an immediate pressing threat and is explicitly told that; but that is only the most obvious way to express downtime; a discrete period of time compressed into one episode that calls itself a downtime episode. [for what it's worth, my comfort episodes happen to be ones where more things happen anyway; I recall finding 2x62 fine but a little dull in the moment and getting excited when the plot picked back up].

What's also weird is actually Vox Machina didn't have a lot of downtime interspersed; they did have one giant time jump that covered a year in a single episode, and while I enjoy that, and while I even think the cast conveyed that time passing well (vs, and unfortunately this is my only real example as it stands out for lacking this sense otherwise I would avoid the most hot-button relationship, the way that Imogen and Laudna at no point feel like two years of travel have passed between them) it's one single episode and in terms of how we view the campaign, it only lasts a few hours and it's all at once, and the plot shortly after kicks into a very fast pace, with the final fifteen episodes taking place over only a few days (barring the epilogue). A lot of their downtime moments take place amid the Chroma Conclave arc, where there is still a pressing issue to get back to momentarily. Episode 1x72 is technically "downtime"; but it is no more or less downtime than say, most nights the Mighty Nein spend in the tower during the Aeor arc, or the entire middle of episode 2x85. It's just that this has the container of One Episode That Is A Downtime Episode vs those being several hours within an episode in which something else also happens, while there is still an overall ticking clock of an overall mission that is not entirely complete.

Downtime is hard to define, but I prefer to think of it as "a time when the focus is on the party recovering from something difficult, when RP and character relationship building takes priority." The Rexxentrum episodes of Campaign 2 qualify as do, in my opinion, episodes 99-100, as, as I have said, a lot of the nights in the tower. It doesn't need to be set aside in its own episode and indeed I think the story is stronger when it isn't.

I do think Campaign 3 does lack that, and I think the compressed timeline and overarching arc the entire time is part of that, but I do not think that having one big plot prevents having downtime. It's just...not something Bells Hells did. They would go to rest at night and do nothing and wake back up in the morning. And the point of this post isn't to discuss why that is, but more to say that downtime in a TTRPG or in actual play at large isn't something you have to wait for the DM to initiate, and isn't something that has to be started at the beginning of one session and ended at the end of that session. All it needs is a few hours for the ticking clock to stop - and in D&D, where long rests are pretty much necessary to mention, that's not difficult unless your DM truly is running the PCs ragged (in which case there's bigger fish to fry here).