#would that explain my period disappearing for a year at a time

[eu-nicola]

one night

summary: one night with Max left a problem that you didn't talk to him about

warnings: pregnancy, and idk you tell me

word counter: 8005

author’s note: english is not my first language

The night was charged with a strange electricity that you didn't know how to explain. It was one of those improvised meetings in the house of a mutual friend, where laughter and talk mixed with the low sound of the music. You had known Max all your life, shared years of friendship, confidences and mutual support. He had always been your refuge, the kind of person who could read you with a single look.

That night, however, everything felt different.

Max was sitting next to you on the couch, closer than usual, and you couldn't help but notice every detail of his presence. The way his fingers played with the edge of his glass, the sound of his deep laughter when someone told an absurd joke, and how his eyes seemed to look for yours more than necessary. You tried to ignore it, attributing everything to your imagination, but it was useless. There was something there, something that both seemed to feel but did not want to admit.

The night advanced and the hours became more blurry. Most of the guests had left, leaving only a small group of close friends. But even they began to disappear, until you found yourself alone with Max in the dimly lit room.

"Another glass?" he offered you, getting up to fill your glass of wine.

"I don't know if I should," you replied, laughing softly, but you accepted anyway.

The conversation became more intimate, the topics more personal. They talked about the moments they had shared, how they had changed on time. At some point, Max leaned towards you, his expression more serious than usual.

"Have you ever wondered...?" he began, but left the phrase in the air.

"What?" you asked, feeling how your heart was racing.

He shook his head, as if he had decided not to say it. But his eyes told you something he couldn't put into words. Then it happened. A moment of courage - or madness - led you to close the distance between the two. The kiss was unexpected, intense, full of years of repressed feelings that finally found a way out.

The night continued between caresses and whispers, the outside world disappearing completely. For a few hours, everything felt like it was fine, as if this was what both had been waiting for without knowing it.

But the next morning, reality struck like a bucket of cold water. Max was in the kitchen when you woke up, his movements tense, avoiding your gaze. They barely spoke, an uncomfortable silence that looked nothing like the dynamics they had had for years.

"Last night..." he began, scratching the back of his neck, "it was... unexpected.

"Yes, it was," you admitted, pretending to feel a tranquility that you didn't feel.

They both knew that something had changed, something they couldn't ignore, but they didn't know how to handle it either. So, slowly, they began to move away. Messages that were previously constant became sporadic, and then non-existent. The calls stopped. His absence hurt, but you didn't know what to do about it.

Weeks later, while trying to move on with your life, you realized that something was not right. Morning sickness, constant fatigue, and the absence of your period led you to buy a pregnancy test at the pharmacy, your hands shaking while you waited for the result.

Two lines. Positive.

Your mind was filled with questions, fears and doubts, but one thing was clear: the baby was Max's. And although your first instinct was to call him, reason prevailed. Max had been in a serious relationship with Kelly for a while, a woman who had a little daughter whom he had accepted as his own. You knew he was committed to that life, and you couldn't ruin it all.

You decided to keep quiet. You would raise your baby alone, without complicating anyone else's life. But deep down, you knew that this secret would not be easy to carry. The life you had shared with Max felt like a distant memory, a "and if" that would never have a response.

You refused to think too much about what it implied. The more you thought about it, the more you sank into a whirlwind of contradictory emotions: fear, sadness, pride, and a kind of determination that you didn't know you had. You knew that your life would change drastically, but you also knew that you didn't want Max to be part of this new chapter. Not because you didn't trust him, but because his life was already defined, and you didn't want to be the person who broke it to pieces.

The decision was clear to you: you needed space, distance, something that would help you start again without Max's shadow and his responsibilities. So, little by little, you began to prepare your escape.

First, you stopped frequenting the places where you knew you might meet him. You changed your phone number, blocked almost all mutual friends on your social networks and pretended that you needed "time for yourself" when someone asked about your disappearance. Weeks passed, and your pregnancy began to be harder to hide. You looked in the mirror every morning, noticing the changes in your body and reminding yourself why you were doing it.

One day, after a visit to the doctor, you sat in your car and made the final decision. You looked at the familiar streets around you, the places that had always been your home, and you knew it was time to leave them behind.

London. You had always wanted to live there, and now it seemed like the perfect opportunity to start over. Without telling anyone but your boss, you submitted your resignation, packed your things and booked a plane ticket. The plan was simple: you would settle in an apartment, work in your family's company as they had wanted so long, and raise your baby away from any possibility of Max discovering the truth.

When you arrived in London, the city greeted you with a cold and humid air, typical of early autumn. You moved to an apartment in a quiet area, with enough cafes and parks nearby to keep you busy.

Then you had disappeared from the digital radar for months. Your social networks, which used to be full of spontaneous photos, updates and everyday moments, had been left in absolute silence. You hadn't posted anything for a long time, and although you kept looking from time to time, reviewing the stories and publications of others, you made sure not to leave any traces of your presence. It was as if you had become a ghost that I watched from a distance.

People began to notice your absence. You knew it because, when reviewing your old posts, you found endless comments asking you where you were. "Everything okay?", "We miss you", "Why haven't you uploaded anything?" some said. Others simply left emojis, hearts, or words of support. But even when nostalgia for your previous life invaded you, you still didn't respond.

It wasn't exactly fear, but a feeling of wanting to protect this very personal stage. The pregnancy had been a roller coaster of emotions: illusion, uncertainty, and moments of loneliness that you fought remembering why you were doing this. Your little world in London had become your refuge, and sharing it with the rest of the world still didn't seem necessary to you.

But everything changed when the month came in which you decided to know the gender of your baby. The doctor's appointment was marked on your calendar, and you couldn't deny that you were excited and a little nervous. It was a strange feeling, as if knowing the gender made everything even more real, as if the baby that grew inside you began to take the form of a person you would soon meet.

The doctor's room was lit with a warm light, and the constant sound of the monitor filled the air. You lay back on the stretcher, taking a deep breath while the doctor applied the cold gel to your belly. The screen in front of you showed the blurred silhouette of your baby, and you felt that knot in your chest that always invaded you when you saw it.

"Do you want to know the gender?" the doctor asked, with a smile.

"Yes, please," you replied, your voice barely a whisper.

The moment they told you was unforgettable. A child. A child who would soon become the center of your world. You smiled as tears accumulated in your eyes. For an instant, all the doubts, fears and difficult decisions vanished, replaced by pure and simple happiness.

That same afternoon, while you were walking back to your apartment, you decided it was time. For the first time in months, you felt the impulse to share this part of your life with others. It wasn't out of pressure, or to please anyone, but because you wanted to celebrate this little miracle you were waiting for.

You took a couple of pictures, wearing a white dress that highlighted your belly. The brightness of your skin, the pride in your eyes and the shy smile on your face were more than evident. You weren't the type to plan great revelations, but you knew you wanted to do something special.

You sat on the edge of your bed, carefully selecting the images and writing a description that reflected how you felt:

"After months of silence, I finally want to share the reason why my world changed. I'm expecting a beautiful baby, a boy who will arrive soon to light up my life. I can't explain in words the joy and love I feel knowing that I will be a mom. Thank you to everyone who has been asking about me and worrying in silence. I'm fine, better than I've been in a long time. 💙”

You took a breath before publishing it, hesitating for a moment. What would happen if this reached Max's ears? You knew I would do it but you pushed those thoughts away from your mind and pressed the publish button.

Within minutes, notifications began to flood your phone. Comments of surprise, love and congratulations appeared one after another. "Congratulations!", "You're going to be an amazing mom!", "A child? What a thrill!". The answer was overwhelming, and as you read them, you felt a warmth that enveloped you.

You allowed yoursellelless to smile again. For the first time in a long time, you let the world know a part of your new reality.

You didn't expect all that to go so far. After posting the news on your social networks, you felt a mixture of relief and vulnerability. You had shared your truth with the world, but you couldn't control who could see it, how they would react or what they would say behind your back.

Then Max's message arrived.

It was almost ten o'clock at night and you were on your couch, with your legs crossed and a bowl of ice cream in your hands, responding to the hundreds of comments that kept coming. Your phone vibrated, and when you looked at the notification, you felt how the air left your lungs.

It was a message from Max.

"Congratulations to you and the baby's father. I hope you are well. Really, I'm glad to know that you're happy."

You were frozen, reading and rereading the message as if you were unable to process it. How did he get your number? Who had told him? Why had I decided to write to you after so long? All these questions crowded into your mind, but none had an immediate answer.

You didn't know what to do. The most instinctive part of you wanted to ignore it, as if you had never seen the message. But another part, more emotional, I knew that would not be fair. He had been kind, had respected the distance, and had not hinted at anything that could complicate things.

You put the phone aside, squeezing your eyes as you took a deep breath. You had to answer, but what to say? You couldn't reveal the truth, that was clear. But you didn't want to sound cold or distant either. So you took your time, thinking about every word, every semicomon, before writing:

"Thank you, Max. I'm fine and so is the baby. I'm glad to hear from you."

You hit "send" before you could regret it, your heart beating hard while you waited, not knowing if he would answer. Every vibration of your phone made you jump, but the minutes passed, then the hours, and nothing else arrived.

Silence was a relief and torture at the same time. On the one hand, you were grateful that he didn't insist, that he didn't ask questions that you couldn't or didn't want to answer. But on the other hand, you wondered what he would be thinking, if he had really believed your version.

That night, before going to sleep, you thought about his message over and over again. It was so typical of Max: courteous, respectful, but letting out that closeness that had always existed between you. You knew him well enough to know that he must be curious, even if he didn't say it.

Max didn't write to you again. There were no more messages, calls or contact attempts. And although one part of you hoped it wasn't like that, another, more practical, deeply thanked him. The conversation had been at a neutral point, without complications or confrontations, exactly as you wanted.

The days passed with a strange tranquility. Since Max's message, you had not heard from him again, and life in London was on course. Your daily routines had become a kind of comfort: working from home, walking through nearby parks and mentally preparing for the arrival of your baby. But that calm was suddenly broken when your family called you with news that you did not expect.

You were lying on the couch, reviewing a list of things for the baby, when your mother called you. Her voice sounded excited, almost as if she was holding herst out so as not to scream with joy.

"We have something to tell you," he said, without even saying hello first.

"What happened?" you asked, anticipating that something important was coming.

“Your father and I have decided to go back to Monaco. The company is doing better than ever, and we believe it is the perfect time to return home. We've been away too long.”

The news hit you like a gust of cold air. Monaco Your lifelong home, the place where you had grown up, where you knew everyone and everyone knew you. But also the place you had left behind when you moved to London, in search of a new beginning.

"When do you plan to move?" you asked, trying to sound calmer than you felt.

"In a few weeks." We want you to come with us, of course. It's time for us to get back together, especially now that you're expecting a baby.

The proposal left you silent. You knew that your mother didn't say it with bad intentions; she was excited about the idea of having her first grandson around. But for you, the decision was not so simple. London had become your refuge, the place where you had managed to rebuild your life away from everything that tied you to your past. Returning would mean facing everything you had been avoiding, starting with Max.

Monaco was not a place where you could easily hide. Your family was well known, with important connections in the business and social circles of the city. If you came back, everyone would be behind you with questions. And even worse, there was a high probability that you would cross paths with Max during the Formula 1 break.

The following days were a storm of thoughts and emotions. On the one hand, the idea of being alone in London terrified you. With the baby on the way, you knew you would need support, and your family had always been by your side in important moments. But on the other hand, returning to Monaco meant opening a door that you had closed with so much effort.

You sat in front of the window of your small apartment one night, looking at the city lights while reflecting. You were mature enough not to worry about what people would say, but facing Max was something else. You knew each other, and you knew that his presence had an effect on you that you had never been able to fully control.

Finally, after days of thinking and rethinking, you made a decision.

You would return to Monaco.

It wouldn't be easy, but you were tired of living in fear. You didn't want your child to be born in a place where you felt isolated and vulnerable. Your family was important to you, and you knew you could trust them to support you, even if they didn't fully understand why you had made certain decisions.

The next day, you called your mother to give her the news.

"I'm going back with you," you said, your voice firm but with a touch of nervousness.

She couldn't hide her joy. He started talking about the plans for the trip, how they would organize everything so that you were comfortable. His enthusiasm made you smile, although a part of you was still restless.

The weeks passed in the blink of an eye. You packed your things, silently saying goodbye to London and the small shelter you had built there. When the day of your departure came, you looked for the last time at the streets that had become your temporary home, promising yourself that, whatever happens in Monaco, you would be strong.

The plane landed in Monaco at sunset, and the view of the city filled you with a mixture of nostalgia and nervousness. It was as if a part of you had never really left. But you knew the real test was yet to come. Max was there, somewhere, and sooner or later, you would have to face him.

It didn't take long for that, "The event" as your family used to say was something typical: a great meeting in one of the most exclusive lounges in Monaco, where the closest families could live together. Your parents had organized it as a kind of welcome to resume old connections after returning to the city. From the invitation, you knew that it would be inevitable to cross paths with people from the past, but you didn't think too much about who might be. There were so many names, so many familiar faces, that you assumed you could stay on the sidelines without drawing too much attention.

You dressed up with care that night, choosing a simple white dress that enhanced your figure. The fabric flowed gently over your growing belly, marking it delicately without being too flashy. You left your hair loose, with natural waves, and applied light makeup. You wanted to see yourself well, but without trying too hard.

When we arrived at the event, the room was already full. Laughter and conversations filled the air, and the children ran back and forth while the adults met in small groups. There was something familiar in the atmosphere, something that transported you to the years when you had also been a girl in those meetings. It was at one of these parties where you met Max.

Years ago...

You were a restless girl, full of curiosity and not afraid to talk to anyone, even if they were older than you. Max, on the other hand, was more reserved, even a little grumpy for his age. However, somehow, you found a way to break his serious facade. With your energetic personality, you managed to let my guard down. To everyone's surprise, he, who always seemed uncomfortable in these meetings, got along with you from the beginning. In those days, both became inseparable, exploring together every corner of these events while the adults chatted.

Returning to the present...

That memory made you smile a little, but it also made you feel a knot in your stomach. You tried to shake the nostalgia and focus on the night. You walked among the guests, chatting with those who approached you, most of them congratulating you on the pregnancy. Although you felt out of place, you tried to stay calm.

That's when you saw it.

Max was standing near one of the tables, dressed in a dark suit that sat him spotlessly. He was accompanied by Kelly, and her little daughter. The air seemed to disappear from your lungs instantly.

He also saw you.

For a second, your eyes met, and his expression changed. He seemed surprised, maybe even uncomfortable, but he immediately regained his composure. You, on the other hand, felt that your heart was beating so hard that it was hard for you to breathe. Instinctively, you turned on your heels, looking for a way out. You weren't ready to face him, even less with Kelly by his side.

But Max was faster.

Before you could disappear into the crowd, he and Kelly approached you. His every step made the panic inside you increase. You wanted to run, excuse yourself, anything to avoid that moment, but there was no escape.

"Hey!" Max said, with a smile that seemed contained, as if he was also dealing with something internal. His voice was warm, as if the months of silence between you had not existed. He pointed at Kelly and said—: “This is Kelly, my girlfriend.”

Kelly smiled politely and held out her hand.

"Nice to meet you," she said. Max has told me that you two have been friends since you were little.

Your mind was going a thousand per hour, but you managed to force a smile and shake his hand.

"Yes, that's right. For... many years” you replied, striving to keep your voice stable.

Max, as if he wanted to relieve the tension, added with a more relaxed smile:

"It's amazing to see you here, and congratulations again, both for you and for the baby's father.”

The words "baby's father" echoed in your mind like an echo. Kelly also congratulated you, and although there was nothing in his words that sounded malicious, you felt that your whole body tensed up.

"Thank you," you managed to say, nodding with a shy smile.

You couldn't take it anymore. You made up the first excuse you could think of.

"Excuse me, I need to go get something to drink." It has been a pleasure to see you.

Before they could say anything else, you walked away with quick steps, feeling the eyes of both of them fixed on your back. You didn't stop until you were far away, in a corner of the living room where you could catch your breath.

Your heart kept beating hard, and your hands were shaking. You had managed to get out of that conversation, but the meeting had removed all the emotions you had tried to bury. Max was there, and although you hadn't admitted it out loud, seeing him had made everything feel real again.

The night continued as a blur of superficial conversations and forced laughter. Every time Max and his little family appeared in your line of sight, you found a way to dodge them, pretending that someone else required your attention. You kept busy talking to acquaintances, checking your phone and serving yourself lemon water in an attempt to distract yourself. All in vain. His presence weighed like a cloud on you, a constant that you could not ignore even if you tried.

As soon as you finished pretending to be interested in a business conversation, you decided you needed a break. The bustle of the living room began to suffocate you, and the fresh air outside seemed like the perfect solution. You walked towards the gardens, feeling the relief of the silence as you left the music and laughter behind.

The sky of Monaco was clear, and the city lights were reflected in the nearby water. You recharged against a railing, closing your eyes and letting the breeze caress your face. For a moment, the world seemed calmer, less complicated.

Until you heard his voice behind you.

"It's not very typical of you to escape from the party."

You turned quickly, with your heart racing. Max was there, with his hands in his pockets and an expression that you didn't know how to interpret. He seemed relaxed, but there was something in his eyes that made you feel that he had come with a purpose.

"I didn't escape. I just needed a little air” you replied, trying to sound casual while your hands fiddled with the railing.

Max approached, leaving enough space between you, but enough to make his presence impossible to ignore.

"It was nice to see you today. I didn't expect to find you here," he said, his words loaded with something you couldn't define.

"I say the same," you replied, looking at the horizon instead of him.

There was an awkward silence before he spoke again.

"Your family must be excited about the baby and his father too. I'm sure they're spoiling you a lot.”

You smiled slightly, although his tone made you feel a pang in your chest. You decided it was better to be honest before he continued to assume things.

"They are happy, yes. But my baby doesn't have a father.”

Max seemed to stop in his tracks. His expression changed, and for a moment he seemed to be looking for the right words.

"I'm sorry... I didn't know."

You looked at him then, meeting his look that seemed sincerely hurt.

"Don't do it," you told him, your tone firm but without hardness. “Don't be regretted. I'm happy, Max. My family is happy. I can't ask for more. This child will be surrounded by love, and that's all that matters.”

Max nodded slowly, but his eyes continued to reflect something else, something he didn't say out loud.

"I always thought you would be an incredible mom," he said after a moment, with a small smile.

You forced yourself to smile too, although his comment stirred you inside. You wanted to change the subject, prevent the conversation from taking a more emotional turn, but Max was the one who spoke first.

"I want to be in your life again."

His words were like a direct blow to the chest. You looked at him, stunned, trying to understand exactly what he meant.

"Max..." you started, but he raised a hand, interrupting you.

"I'm not saying that I'm going to get into something that doesn't belong to me. I just... I want to be part of your life again, as we were before. I could be a good uncle for that little one," he added, with a smile that seemed sincere, although also somewhat sad.

That was too much for you. His words, his tone, the way he seemed so sure of wanting to be close but at the same time setting limits... It was a reminder of what had been and what it could not be. You felt your heart tighten, as if the air became denser.

"I would love to have you back in my life, Max. You've always been a good friend” you managed to say, although it was hard for you to keep your voice stable.

He nodded, his eyes fixed on yours for an eternal second. Then he looked towards the house, as if something was calling him back.

"I'm glad to hear it. See you inside," he said softly, before turning around and walking towards the living room.

You stayed there, watching how his figure disappeared between the lights of the party. You felt a mixture of emotions that you couldn't fully decipher. There was something reassuring in knowing that he wanted to be in your life, but also something deeply painful in hearing the words "good friend" come out of his lips.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the lump in your throat. You knew that the best thing was to return too, but before you needed a few more minutes to pull yourself together.

When the night finally came to an end, and while you were helping your mother say goodbye to the last guests, you felt the exhaustion creep into every fiber of your body. Between smiles, short conversations and the unexpected meeting with Max, everything had been a whirlwind of emotions. You went up to your room, closing the door behind you and letting out a long sigh. You had succeeded. You had survived that night without collapsing, although the cracks in your facade were deeper than you wanted to admit.

You took off your dress carefully, letting the fresh air ease your skin. You put on a comfortable nightgown and got rid of the makeup with slow movements. Every step of your nightly routine was an attempt to distract you from the only thing that really occupied your mind: Max. The conversation outside, his insistence on wanting to be back in your life, his words loaded with a meaning that you refused to interpret... Everything kept spinning in your head.

When you got into bed, you took your phone out of habit, checking notifications and messages before going to sleep. That's when you saw it. A message from Max.

Max: "Good night. I liked seeing you tonight."

Your heart skipped a beat when you read it. You didn't expect me to write to you, not after what they had talked about. You thought about ignoring him, but you knew you couldn't. Something inside you drove you to respond.

You: "Simely. It was nice to see you."

You sent the message before your mind could stop you, and just a few seconds later his answer came.

Max: "I don't know if this sounds weird, but I feel like I've missed you more than I thought."

You bit your lip, your fingers floating on the screen as you decided what to say. Finally you wrote:

You: "It doesn't sound weird. I've missed you too."

The conversation flowed with a naturalness that baffled you. Talking to him was like returning to something comfortable and familiar, as if the months of distance had not existed. They talked about trivial things at the beginning: how he was, how you were, small anecdotes of the event that had occurred while you were escaping to the garden. But then he wrote something that made you stop.

Max: "We should have a coffee or something. Really catch up."

Your first reaction was to doubt. You knew it wasn't a good idea. Seeing him was to risk letting your guard down, saying something you shouldn't have, opening doors that you had closed for a reason. But, at the same time, the idea excited you. You wanted to see it. I wanted to see it.

"I'd love to," you finally wrote, almost with fear.

Almost instantly came his answer:

Max: "Tomorrow? I have something in the afternoon, but I'm free at night."

You bit the inside of your cheek, weighing your options. You knew you shouldn't accept, but your fingers were already writing.

You: "It's okay. Tomorrow night."

They quickly confirmed it, deciding the place and time, and after a few more messages, he wrote:

Max: "Sleep well. See you tomorrow."

"You too," you replied, even though you knew that sleeping was the last thing you would do. You put the phone aside, but your mind was still at full speed.

As you settled in bed, you looked at the ceiling with a sigh. You had done something you knew you shouldn't have done, and the anxiety of what could happen consumed you. But, at the same time, a small spark of emotion lit up inside you.

The idea of seeing him, of talking to him face to face after all, made you feel like you were playing with fire. And yet, you found yourself counting the hours for the next day.

The next morning the day began in a rather routine way, although you felt a slight tingling in your stomach when you remembered your plan for later. After a light breakfast, you made sure to review your to-do list, and among them was the doctor's appointment. Although all the previous reviews had gone well, it always gave you a little anxiety to attend. You wanted to make sure that your baby was perfect, that everything went as it should.

You put on a loose and comfortable dress, choosing a pastel shade that highlighted the shine that lately your pregnancy had given to your skin. You looked in the mirror quickly before leaving, noticing your already noticeably rounded belly. You had reached that point in pregnancy where it was impossible to hide it, and although you felt proud, there were times when that reality made you think about everything that was to come.

The clinic was calm when you arrived. After signing some papers and waiting a few minutes in the room, they called you to go to the doctor. She was a kind woman, someone you fully trusted and with whom you had developed a good relationship since you arrived in Monaco.

You lay down on the stretcher while they did the routine ultrasound. The screen lit up with the image of your baby, and as always, your eyes filled with tears of pure emotion when you saw it.

"Everything looks perfect," said the doctor, smiling as she checked the measurements and heartbeat of the little one. “He is growing well and has a lot of energy, as always. Have you felt good?”

You nodded.

"Yes, although he's been a little restless today. I don't know if it's me or him.”

The doctor laughed softly.

"Probably a little bit of both. They feel our emotions, did you know? If you're anxious or nervous, he feels it too.”

You were thoughtful with that comment. It was true that you had been nervous since you woke up. The idea of seeing Max again, of sitting in front of him after so long, had you in a constant state of anticipation.

"I guess he's right. Today I have... an important day.”

You didn't go into details, but she gave you an understanding look.

"Well, try to relax." He's fine, you're fine. Enjoy your day and make sure you rest.

When you left the clinic, the mid-morning sun greeted you warmly, but you still felt some restlessness in your chest. You knew there was no reason to worry about the baby, but the conversation with the doctor left you thinking. Your little one was connected to you in a way that no one else could be, and his well-being was completely up to you.

The rest of the day was spent in a blur of domestic activities and small errands, but your mind always returned to Max. You wondered what it would be like to see him again, this time in a more intimate environment. Would he be nervous like you? Would it still be as easy to talk to him as it had been last night?

As the afternoon progressed, you noticed that your baby kept moving. Every time you tried to sit down for a moment to breathe, he kicked or settled down, as if trying to get your attention.

"What's wrong, little one?" you murmured, placing a hand on your belly. “Are you also nervous about tonight?”

The thought made you smile, although you felt a knot in your stomach. You caressed your belly with gentle movements, trying to calm it down and calm yourself down in the process.

You sighed as you looked at the clock. Every minute that passed brought you closer to the meeting, and although you were nervous, a part of you couldn't wait.

The afternoon was sliding into the night, and with each passing minute, you felt how anxiety was taking over you. You repeated to yourself over and over again that everything would be fine, that there was nothing to fear, that it was only Max. Max, your lifelong friend. Max, who was now much more complicated than you had ever imagined.

When it was time to get ready, you went into the bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. There was something different about you, a mixture of emotion and tension that made you feel like you were about to cross an invisible line. The dress you chose was simple but elegant, a dark blue tone that highlighted your skin and concealed your belly. You left your hair loose, falling in soft waves on your shoulders. The makeup, just enough to give a touch of color to your cheeks and highlight your eyes. You wanted to look good, but without looking like you had tried too hard.

While you were putting on the last touches, your phone vibrated on the table. You took it with slightly trembling hands and read the message.

"I'm outside. I'll wait for you."

You toom a deep breath before answering.

"Ok."

You picked up your bag, taking one last look at your reflection before leaving the room. You went down the stairs calmly, although your heart was beating hard in your chest. When he opened the front door, there he was. Max Verstappen, waiting for you next to his car with a smile that, despite all the time that had passed, was still the same you remembered.

"Hello," he said softly, his eyes running over you for a moment before returning to your face. “You look... good.”

You smiled a little shyly.

"Thank you. You too”

Max was dressed casually but flawlessly, a dark shirt and jeans that fit him perfectly. I had always had that ability to look good without much effort. He opened the car door for you and, once you were inside, he circled the car and sat behind the wheel.

The journey was comfortable, although full of silences that spoke more than words. Through the reflection in the window, you watched him sideways. His firm hands on the steering wheel, the way he concentrated on the road, everything was so familiar and at the same time so distant.

Finally, they arrived at a small secluded, discreet and cozy restaurant, a place that Max had chosen carefully to avoid curious glances. Upon entering, you were greeted by a warm atmosphere, dim lights and tables separated enough to ensure privacy.

"It's a quiet place," he said while helping you sit down. “I thought we would be more comfortable here.”

You nodded, grateful for your consideration.

"It's perfect."

You both asked for dinner, and for a few minutes, the sound of the cutlery and the soft background music filled the space. But soon, the conversation began to flow.

"So..." you said, breaking the ice. “How is everything? Life, the team, your relationship?”

Max took a sip from his glass before answering.

"Life... is fine. Busy, as always. The team is doing well, although this year has been more complicated than I expected. And Kelly...” he paused briefly. “We're fine. Things are stable, which is good for me, for P.”

He mentioned his girlfriend and stepdaughter naturally, but you couldn't help but feel a pang in his chest. You forced yoursellsel on your smile.

"I'm glad to hear that. You know I've always wanted you to be happy.”

Max looked at you with an expression that seemed to contain more than he was willing to say.

"And you?" he asked, leaning slightly forward. “Why did you disappear like that? One day you were here, and the next, you were gone. Without a word.”

You tensed up a little in your chair, fiddling with the edge of your glass. You had known that question would come, but you were not completely prepared to answer it.

"It was something... I needed to do," you finally said, choosing your words carefully. “London was an opportunity to start again. And... I didn't want to complicate anyone's life.”

Max frowned slightly, his eyes looking for yours.

"Complicate life for whom? To me?”

The air seemed to become denser between you. You avoided his gaze, concentrating on the napkin that you now held between your fingers.

"You already had many things in your life. You didn't need... more complications.”

Max was silent for a moment, but his eyes didn't turn away from you.

"We were always friends, remember? No matter what happened... that doesn't change.”

The sincerity in his voice disarmed you, and for a moment, you felt that the weight of the last few months was about to collapse on you. But you stood firm, smiling softly.

"I know. And I'm glad we can talk like this, like before.”

The conversation continued, returning to lighter topics: childhood memories, career anecdotes, moments they shared before everything got complicated. But, deep down, they both knew that there were things that remained unsaid.

When dinner ended, they both left the restaurant, the night in Monaco unfolded calm and cool, with a gentle breeze that caressed your skin. You felt strangely light, despite everything that dinner had moved in you. You thought the night had come to an end, but Max, standing next to you in front of the car, seemed to hesitate before saying goodbye.

"Are you tired?" he asked, with a look that contained more than what his words said. “Because... if you're not, we could go for a walk.”

You were surprised by the invitation, but a part of you, the one that was still looking for any excuse to prolong the moment, did not hesitate to answer.

"No, I'm not tired. I would love to walk a little.”

Max smiled, a soft smile that lit up his face for a moment. He walked by your side, and soon they both left the restaurant behind and went into the quietest streets of the city. The night in Monaco was a spectacle in itself, with the lights reflected in the sea, the distant sound of laughter and music, and the constant murmur of the nightlife that unfolded around it. But at that moment, nothing seemed to matter more than the presence of the other.

The silence between you was not uncomfortable. On the contrary, it felt almost like a conversation in itself, a pause that allowed both of them to think about everything that had been left unsaid for so long. They walked at the same pace, their steps synchronized, and from time to time your fingers brushed his, which caused a small chill that ran through your body.

Finally, it was Max who broke the silence. His voice was low, almost a whisper, as if he feared to alter the stillness of the night.

"I like walking with you at night," he said, with a sincerity that took you by surprise. His eyes looked at you sideways, looking for your reaction.

Your heart turned upside down, and you bit your lip before answering, allowing a soft smile to form on your lips.

"I like it too. I enjoy it.”

And you meant it. There was something intimate at that moment, a connection that didn't need words. The world seemed to have reduced to you two, walking together under the dim lights of Monaco. The breeze was fiddling with your hair, and Max noticed it, because his eyes stopped a second longer on you, before looking away.

Both continued walking in silence for a few more minutes, until both of you reached a small viewpoint that overlooked the port. The lights of the yachts and the soft waves of the water created an almost magical atmosphere. You leaned on the railing, contemplating the landscape, but aware that Max had come closer, until he was a few centimeters from you.

"It's beautiful," you commented, trying to stay calm, although your heart was beating hard.

"It is..." he replied, but when you looked up, you realized that he was not looking at the landscape. He was looking at you.

The atmosphere became denser, loaded with electricity that seemed to envelop them. You felt trapped between the desire to maintain that closeness and the need to step back, to protect yourself from what that moment could mean. But you didn't move.

Max leaned slightly forward, resting his arms on the railing next to yours. His fingers brushed yours, and this time he didn't move away. Neither do you.

"I missed this," he murmured, with a voice so low that you barely heard him. “I missed being with you.”

His words disarmed you. You felt a lump in your throat, but you tried to stay calm.

"Me too..." you admitted, almost in a whisper. I missed this, you.

Both stayed like this, in silence, letting the moment last, feeling the closeness of the other. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you had saved for months, but you held in. You didn't want to ruin it. Not yet.

Max turned his face towards you, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. His blue eyes, intense and full of contained emotions, met yours. The world around him disappeared, and all that existed was that look, that instant in which the past, the present and the future seemed to collide.

"I'm glad you're here," he said, with a softness that almost made you lose your balance.

Your breathing quickened slightly, and without looking away, you replied:

"To me too."

The silence that followed was different. It wasn't uncomfortable or empty.

But before either of them could do or say anything else, Max took a step back, breaking the spell.

"We should go back," he said, his voice a little more controlled. “I don't want you to get too tired.”

You nodded, grateful and at the same time disappointed. Both began to walk back, this time more slowly, as if prolonging that walk could change something.

When both got to the car, Max stopped before opening the door for you. For a moment, he seemed to doubt, as if he was about to say something important. But instead, he just smiled.

"Thank you for tonight. I needed.”

"Yeah. Me too..." you murmured. “Thank u.”

He leaned slightly, as if he was going to say goodbye with a kiss on the cheek, but he stopped halfway. Instead, his fingers gently brushed your hand before opening the door. You got into the car, still feeling the warmth of his touch, and when he left you at home, they both said goodbye with a smile that said more than words could express.

That night, while you were lying in your bed, with the breeze of Monaco coming in through the window, you thought about every detail of that walk. In his gaze, in his words, in the touch of his fingers. And for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to dream about what could have been... and what it could still be.

[lvnleah]

rory’s first period.

hii! this is the first teen!roo fic, she’s 11 in this one and it’s set in March 2030. it’s set during what I’ve written as beth’s last season before retiring. beth is 34 and viv is 33!

You’d been in the middle of a passing drill, focused on the ball at your feet when you felt… off. It wasn’t painful, exactly. Just a strange, uncomfortable feeling low in your stomach. You tried to ignore it, finishing the drill and moving to the next one, but when you stopped for water, you felt it again.

Something was wrong.

“You okay?” Your friend, Madelyn, murmured from beside you. “You look a little…pale?”

You hummed and nodded, “Mhm, just sore from training that’s it.”

“Break over!” Your coach called out, “Let’s get back to those drills, I want your passing more cleaner this time. Focus!”

You huffed as you went back to passing drills but your mind couldn’t shift away from the pain that lingered in your stomach. As the ball came to your feet once again, you passed it back to Madelyn before running to your coach. 

He wasn’t exactly your favourite person in the world but he was alright. After all, he was the one who got you to join the Arsenal academy last year. 

“I need to go to the toilet…” you muttered, “It’s urgent, coach.”

Your coach barely spared you a glance as he focused on the drill, “Make it quick.” He grumbled. 

You nodded and jogged towards the training centre where the toilets were. Luckily, today you were training at the main training ground as a part of an experience. You knew the place like the back of your hand after basically growing up there. 

By the time you made it inside the training centre and into a stall, your hands were shaking. You pulled your shorts down and that’s when the realisation hit you. 

There was blood in your shorts.

Your breath came fast, panic creeping up your throat. You knew what it was. You weren’t a little kid, and you’d talked about school. Your Arsenal aunts had always been very open about their periods too. 

But knowing about a period and actually dealing with it were two very different things.

You had nothing with you. No clue what to do.

Your first instinct was to call for your coach, but the idea of explaining this in front of everyone made you want to curl up and disappear.

The only person you really wanted though was Beth. 

Beth was training with the first team today. If you could just find her then you knew your mum would be able to help you. Your mum always knew what to do. 

You pulled your hoodie off and tied it around your waist even though it was cold, and slipped out of the changing rooms. The halls of the training centre were mostly empty, but when you reached the gym, you hesitated.

You could see Beth through the doors but she wasn’t alone. Leah and Monkey were there too, along with the rest of the squad as they worked in the gym. 

Your stomach twisted. You’d wanted to just grab Beth and go, but now you’d have to get her attention without letting everyone else hear.

You peeked through the window in the door, looking around to see if you could get to Beth who was on the other side of the gym without drawing attention to yourself. Why were you so nervous? You knew you didn’t have to be nervous because these were your aunts, people you’d grown up around. 

Just as you went to duck out of view, Leah’s eyes met yours and she was quick to stand up and come out to you in the hallway. 

“Roo?” She said as she closed the gym door behind her. “What are you doing here? Thought you were with the U12s.”

You shifted on your feet. “I-I need Mum.”

Leah frowned, glancing toward the gym. “She’s in the gym. What’s wro—”

“Like I really need Mum,” you cut in, voice a little shakier than you meant it to be. “I got my period, Le. I don’t know what to do.”

Leah’s eyes flicked over you, landing on the hoodie tied around your waist. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” she said softly as she brought you into a hug. “Hang on. I’ll get your mum, yeah?”

She turned and jogged over to Beth on the other side of the gym, saying something you couldn’t hear. A second later, Beth was moving, heading straight for you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” She asked as she closed the door behind her. “Why didn’t you come in?”

You bit your lip. You didn’t want to say it out loud. “I-I think…I got my period.” You mumbled. 

Beth blinked, and then her face softened. “Oh, Roo.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you blinked furiously, not wanting to cry over this. But Beth just pulled you into a hug and placed a kiss on your temple. 

“Alright, munchkin, let’s go sort you out, yeah?”

You nodded quickly, feeling a little bit better just having her here. Beth kept an arm around your shoulders as she led you toward the changing rooms, keeping her voice soft and steady.

“You’re okay, Roo. This happens to everyone. I promise it’s nothing to worry about.”

“I didn’t think it’d be like this,” you admitted, voice small. “In the middle of football.”

Beth chuckled. “What a way, eh? I know the first time can be a bit scary, but we’ll get you sorted.”

When you reached the changing rooms, she guided you inside and rummaged through her locker before pulling out a small pouch.

“Lucky for you, your brilliant Mumma is always prepared.” She handed you a pad. “I’ll talk you through it if you need.”

You took it, grateful but still embarrassed. Beth must’ve noticed because she just smiled and ruffled your hair.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about, munchkin. We’ve all been there.”

You went into the stall, figuring things out as best you could with Beth talking you through the door. When you stepped out, Beth had swapped her serious mum look for something a little more playful.

“How about we grab some chocolate cake from the cafeteria? Fiirst period definitely calls for that.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little. “Really? The one with the thick icing?”

“Of course.” Beth grinned. “And then we can talk about what you need to keep with you from now on. Maybe get you a little emergency kit for your bag?”

You nodded, feeling the panic from earlier finally ease. “Okay.”

Beth threw an arm around your shoulders again. “That’s my girl. Now, let’s go get you some chocolate before Monkey steals it all.”

When you walked back to the canteen, Leah and Monkey were sitting at a table eating their own lunch. 

Beth kept true to her word, grabbing you a slice of chocolate cake from the cafeteria before leading you out to the car. She sent a quick message to your coach, letting him know she was taking you home early, but she didn’t bring it up again. 

It was a quiet drive home with the radio playing softly in the background. When you pulled into the driveway, Beth turned to you with a small smile. “Mamma should be home. We’ve got a few hours before the little ones get back, so we can just take it easy, yeah?”

You nodded, feeling more tired than you expected. Maybe it was the nerves from earlier finally wearing off.

Beth unlocked the door, and the familiar warmth of home wrapped around you. You barely had time to set your bag down before Viv appeared in the hallway, her brows knitting together as she took you in.

“What are you guys doing home so early?”

You hesitated, glancing at Beth, but she just gave you a reassuring nod. So you took a breath and mumbled, “Got my period.”

Viv’s face softened immediately. “Oh, mijn meisje.” She stepped forward, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before looking at Beth. “You sorted?”

Beth held up the emergency pouch she’d grabbed earlier. “We’re all good.”

Viv cupped your cheek gently. “Are you okay?”

You shrugged. “I think so.”

Viv smiled, wrapping an arm around you and guiding you toward the living room. “Then I think this calls for a snuggle.”

Beth chuckled, following close behind. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

You barely had time to sit before Viv settled beside you, pulling you into her side, and Beth flopped down on your other side, tossing a blanket over the three of you.

“Can I get you anything? We’ve got a bit of time before the little ones bring the chaos with them.” Viv asked you. 

“Maybe a hot chocolate?” You said after a moment of thinking. 

Viv nodded, “Of course, one hot chocolate, with marshmallows obviously, coming right up. 

As Viv disappeared into the kitchen, Beth turned to you, “Disney movie?” You nodded. “Tangled?” To which you nodded again, “How could I have guessed, huh?”

Beth chuckled as she grabbed the remote, flicking through the streaming apps until she found Tangled. She knew you’d watched it a hundred times, but that never stopped you from watching it again. It was your comfort movie, something familiar, something safe.

By the time Viv returned with your hot chocolate, the movie had just started. She handed you the mug carefully, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before sitting back down next to you.

As the movie played on, Beth’s fingers absentmindedly ran through your hair, and Viv rested her head lightly against yours. You weren’t sure when your eyes started getting heavy, but at some point, you let yourself drift off, warm and safe between your mums.

Whatever had felt scary or overwhelming earlier didn’t seem so bad anymore.

[keykoso]

Formula 1 drivers as High School students

To spark some creativity and to practice drawing faces I challenged myself to draw all the current and some retired F1 drivers as if they where high school teachers or students for my F1 spiderman AU. So let's start from the begging.

The Seniors

Max Verstappen: A little bit of information on Max. He sits outside the music classroom because the piano music calms him down but he always leaves before Charles exists the room because doesn’t want to admit that he enjoys it. Max has big anger issues and a talent for boxing. Because Daniel, as the PE teacher, noticed that Max was potential he gave Horners number. Daniel was Horner’s pupil back in the days but they had a falling out. However Daniel knows that only Horner can shape up Max to his full potential. In this AU Horner has a boxing school.

Charles Leclerc: Charles has the best face card in school but his fashion sense is his downfall. Also Charles was bleached tips (00s vibes). Also also Charles is convinced that Artur started that rumor but Arthur pleads innocent. Lando is having the best time in the world because of that.

Lance Stroll: Lance is like the super rich but Esteban sees the real him, this introverted kid that just wants peace and quiet. Lance adores Estebans non stop talking that is way they are always sitting together at school assembly and at lunch. Basically, Lance let's Estaben do the talking.

Estaben Ocon: Esteban is the go to guy at school if you need any help especially if you can’t reach something.

The Juniors

Oscar Piastri: Oscar is the Spiderman of my f1 spiderman au. He has the personality of Andrew Garfield Spiderman. Smart smart kid. Lando is always copying homework from him. Hamiltons favorite student. Lewis looks out for Oscar because he sees that the kid has brains but for some reason the brightest pupil is always sleeping in his English class. Oscar noticed that Alonso is interested in him, but his spidey sence is saying that something is up whit him. So as the story progresses Oscar is keeping a distance from his science teacher. However, Lando works for Alonsos lab so that makes it complicated because Oscar wants to protect his best friend

Lando Norris: Lando has this Harry Osborn portrayed by James Franco vibes. HE IS NOT THE GREEN GOBLIN in my au. I'm sorry but I will not hurt my precious baby. The class clown who's always dragging Oscar along with his pranks and antics.

Yuki Tsunoda: The short kid with anger issues. Car guy, always talking about them and dreams about owning a Nissan Skyline car. Has a mood board for his dream cars. If you missed a school fight he's the guy whit the tea.

Logan Sargeant: The exhange student. Keeps it to himself. Only here for one year. Oscar befriended him at science class.

The Sophomores

Liam Lawson: The Lightning McQueen kid, he's the type for guy that would do anyting to be popular and play the guitar to the girls on there first date. Barbie movie reference. An if anything happens to him, Liam runs to the teacher to complain about it. If any of the school teachers see him coming they start running away.

Franco Colopinto: The girls guy, absolute romantic, can get away with anything because he knows how to smooth talk his way out of trouble. However, for some he disappeared for a period of time. Nobody knows here he went. But when he got back Franco acted as if nothing had happened.

Jack Doohan: Because Jack wants to be tiktok famous he shaved his head in the school bathroom while Liam filmed it. It did go viral and he got called to the principals office. Also Jack is like the biggest sunshine and I alot of girls adore him but he's clueless why that is, so he usually never notices the attention he gets.

The Freshmans

Kimi Antonelli and Ollie Bearman they met in preschool. Oli was dressed as a bear for halloween and because he was already the tallest kid in class Kimi really thought that Oli was a bear. Of course the teacher had to explain to Kimi that that’s just a costume. Since then they’ve become friends. Oli always laughs at that moment and Kimi as a shut up gift have Oli a teddy bear that he keeps in his locker. Also Lando believes that Oli and Kimi will become the next pranksters after he and Oscar graduates. That’s why George is absolutely terrified and tries to befriend the younger freshman so that we could discipline from the start. However, the fact that Kimi for some reason has a get out of jail card from Toto him and Oli absolutely abuse this power. Lando noticed that and is super jealous because he’s always sitting in detention.

Gabriel Bortoleto: Gabriel and Oli got drunk together and forgot that they have an exam at Alonso’s science class. Fernando understood that the boys were shit faced but he pretended not to notice Oli sitting in class with sunglasses and drinking energy drinks while Gabriel was as pale as a paper sheet.

Isack Hadjar: because he was this foreign accent he got confused with Logan and was placed in the junior class. Nobody even questioned his existence but Yuki noticed that Isack is absolutely lost at the curriculum. Isack explained that he’s not the exchange student and after lunch break he was back with the freshman. That’s the story how Isack befriended Yuki.

NEXT PART - THE TEACHERS

[iamhereinthebg]

Spoilers Tbhk chapter 126

The end of the new chapter appears with a brand new question: Who is this Akane?

Is he the same one as the one Nene just tried to kill in the last Timeline?

I had a lot of random ideas about it, so let's talk about it! Disclaimer: It will be a little bit all over the place, some ideas will contradict each other! It's mostly to see what we have right now.

One of my first idea is: Nene doesn't exist in the Present anymore.

At the end of the chapter, Nene appears during the 103rd festival which takes place in 2005, 10 years before the main timeline, and for once, she doesn't seem to wanna use the sandglass right away.

Which means it may be a timeline where Akane and Teru remember, like in chapter 112, and Akane realizes that Nene doesn't exist as she should. It may be even coming from before this after all since she was born in 1999/2000, she should be 5/6 in 2005. He then decided or is asked by Kako to check each festival from 2014 to older years, to see when she is.

It also seems that the Clock of the clock keepers only functions during the three days of the festival. I won't go into details but I am pretty sure they can use the clock keepers biggest power at least only during the festival, which is why time is also so fragile at this period and would also explain the three days limit for the memories.

Second Idea:

Nene is 'stuck' in the hourglass.

This is Kako's reaction to Nene using the hourglass, he is shocked and angry that she wants to use it despite saying his Tale but here he seems just 'mildly annoyed'. The hourglass did disappear with her though. It's great to keep in mind that The sanglass wants to get more and more people into it, probably gaining power like this like the God Pit. Contrary to the God of the pit who at least gives people wishes in exchange, the SandGlass only set people to fail. Its malicious intention way more present than the other Kami the god pit.

It always make Nene go back to the Sand everytime, never allowing her to say she wants to get her old timeline back, to stay there, never giving her a break into the loop, driving people quickly into madness and losing all senses of self.

'It's alright, you can try again and again and again' until your lose your life and soul so you can join us. The Sandglass already knows what's waiting for anyone who uses it, it's never offering a solution, just forcing her to go back until she completely loses it. Making her thinks she has a choice in any of the decisions when she has none. After killing all her friends, I am pretty sure only a few more loops would be enough to make her take her own life or die by becoming much more reckless, and finally be part of the sandglass.

All stories told by Kako end up with the person using it dying. Either by their own hands or by others. The only one who ''didn't kill himself'' is the ClockMaker, putting a curse onto his own soul so it could never rest, so his soul would remember what he did and create a supernatural born from grief. So he could prevent people from doing the same mistake as all those people. The clockMaker is the only one who didn't use the sandglass 'one last time' to get what he wanted.

The Sandglass doesn't care what the present will look like, it only wants to empower itself by using greedy humans.

Which is why I think there is a possibility that the timeline Nene is in right now, is 'stuck' in the sandglass. I can't explain exactly how it would work tbh, maybe that just the sandglass 'create' false or alternatives timelines, enough to make the human using it go insane. Like it's a sandglass who can ''travel'' through timelines? I don't really know how it would work, but the dimension Nene is in is clearly a different space like the Nowhere where rules don't apply as in the real world.

But only humans can have access to it, hence why Akane is the one at the end who appears to potentially get her out, not Kako or Mirai, but a human, who can break the rules that bound the supernaturals and can fall under curses more easily, who can be cursed so can lure the sanglass to allow him to use his power. The sandglass would allow a human to use it, not a supernatural.

I already said here that I think there is a possibility Akane was already going after Nene since some times. The question now is: from which timeline it is? This this will be even harder to explain.

I personnaly think that Akane from the first new timeline (chapter 112 to 125) and from chapter 111 are the same, or at least, share the same memories.

Everything he says in chapter 113 is just so personal.

Which add to my idea that Nene is in a different timeline, that is not the same as the one she just left. She is not trying to change the timelines she is in, she is in a brand new one. The last twos were way more linked together than the ones Nene is in.

Because Teru and Akane don't remember anything, compared to the old one where the clock keepers used their powers.

Like when Kako uses its power in chapter 27, or when people are stuck in boundaries.

People with high spiritual energy always have better chance to remember.

Which implies to me that Nene hasn't really gone back in Time in the same way as they did previously. The Sandglass works differently that the clock keepers's clock. Kako and the Cat stayed in the real hourglass/clock.

Nene only has a part of its sand. The big part of it is controled by Kako and is what helps going back in Time, the clock keepers' powers over the Past.

I just wanna note that for the new timeline, only those who were present during the changes, ended up remembering right away (Nene and Teru). But it still happened at one point for others characters like Kou and Mitsuba/Sousuke. Characters like Tsuchigomori aren't shown remembering anything, but it's hard to say how much it may affect him since he is an old supernatural. His three days of memories left may have already passed, this memory thing is really wonky and only works when AidaIro want it to work though so I have no proof.

I also personnaly don't think the Akane from the many timelines Nene goes through, is the same as we see at the end of chapter 125. I don't think this Akane is supposed to remember the timelines. For a lot of different reasons that I think don't make sense, but Nene is pretty obvious in the way she acts that something is happening.

Akane doesn't change anything in the way he acts at all. He even worries for her because she acts differently and says non sensical stuff. There is no way he remembers all those timelines here. Or he can have the Oscar for the best actor idk it makes no sense. The only thing where I am not sure is the last one, the only time for me he would finally remembers all of it, is when he is dying. But I still think it's a weak plot point, really random and would go against the idea that he has been looking for her for some times.

(Funny note: Akane is a character who is always shown with half lidded eyes when ''''dying''''compared to the others like Teru. He is dying/losing conciousness, not dead/inconscious, right away.)

I still feel like what Kako did is way different than what Nene is doing with the hourglass. Nene is under the sandglass's influence, Kako uses its power only once to get things right (from his pov), never using it without taking precautions and doing his own investigation before acting.

Nene has a part of the sandglass, the core that wants it so bad to be used by human, but Kako still has the biggest part of its power with all the sand present when Nene enters the Clock.

And Kako, is supposedly working with Akane.

Let's go over Akane's role as a clock keeper.

This is more of a personal preference, but it would be insane to me that Akane has been stuck in the old timeline, in the boundary, alone, not doing anything when he has one of the most ''pro active'" personality of the cast. And especially that all this last arc, was for nothing. This arc already makes me mad that apparently no one will remember, this is just unfair to all others characters.

The idea of memories is important for the Clock Keepers in general. The idea that Nene is here using a hourglass creating different timelines and Kako being able to remember the first timelines/changes don't seem like a big stretch to me. They can't pinpoint exactly where/when Nene is and what she has changed since Akane implies that he has been looking for her for some time, with the 'Finally'.

But they know and remember that she is traveling through Time.

Which still begs the question of: why is Akane here in his clock keeper outfit if he doesn't remember/if he is supposed to be dead since he died in all new timelines? And I will be really honest with you and says that I have no clues which make really sense.

If we go into a more of one of the Meta sense of the Present, Akane may have something like Shijima's power.

A kind of power of Ubiquity power, but accross Timelines. There is the human Akane from the new Timeline, and the one from the boundary.

And the one, stuck in the clock keepers boundary, gain the memories of the others once they are erased, like a safety net so the supernatural part of him can still exist like Kako wants him to. By creating new timelines, it create new Akanes, that shares all memories before the changes were done by Kako but the clock keepers of the present is still out there. And with those memories he can see if something has gone wrong, that multiples bad timelines are being created, which is why, he finally acts now.

The only thing that point to this, is the fact that it's implied that Akane has two bodies. And that we don't really know how it works. But it's pretty clear that these two bodies are separated, they only share the same soul. (and we know that souls can be cut too)

He is way stronger and resistant as a supernatural.

If he kept his injuries, Akane should have died when the severance happened, or at least be not okay but he was. His injury only coming back when he gained his clock keeper form back in chapter 85.

Throughout the manga he is one of the character that has taken a lot of injuries, but only in his clock keeper form, and it never interferes with his human body, not even once.

(disclaimer: it may only be just a choice of Aidairo to absolutely refuse to show consequences btw :)) I will put it here because for all others characters it worked like this too when they went back from the far shore, humans go back to how they were when coming back from a boundary)

It's also shown that his power don't work when he wants to use it, because another Kami is in front of him. But he also supposedly know that it doesn't work outside of the school? And he thought that it would give Nene his autorisation but it broke?

We also know that his watch works outside of school in supernaturals prominent places, like the far shore.

I honestly don't really know how it would work, but I at least really think that Akane from the new timeline and the one in the boundary in chapter 111 have the same memories that's for sure. Is the human Akane able to use travel in time if he doesn't go himself 'free the clock keeper Akane'? I am not really sure how it would work once again.

The Akane in the new timeline is still Akane, like every other characters. I am just not sure about the timelines Nene is going through in the loops though. But I can't explain it more than 'it may be something the sandglass is trying to copy the way her friends are/to give her a sense of false security'. Is it some kind of tests to see how long Nene's soul would break? The sandglass don't even need to really travel back in time, it just needs to break Nene's soul to get her in the sand. But tbh this would be a weird choice too. So I am not sure about this, just that the sandglass definitely doesn't work the same way as Kako's clock.

The last option is, Akane at the end of chapter 126 is the one from chapter 111 (so from the old Timeline) and he absolutely doesn't share memories with Akane from the new Timelines, only Kako told him to go after Nene in the Timeloops. But once again it would kinda strange and really underwhelming from AidaIro, the writing for the characters this arc were... not really good for most of them, Nene being the only expection. I at least want one of the character to remember the Timeline we have been in since 1 year (10/12 chapters) for us readers. And Akane is the one who would make the most sense.

Last insane theory is Akane is the cat and he already tried to travel through time without being allowed to and Kako punished him but I won't expand on this because I don't like it much and would add a layer of 'wtf is happening' to this already really confusing arc.

New insane theory: he has another body that's made like the one of the clock keepers since they can cut souls. (I don't like it but here it is)

The clock keeper of the present can see through the eyes of people using the hourglass (no proof at all for this too jut random ideas)

And for the question: Will Akane pay the price to go back to the old Timeline? I already talked a little bit about it : here

I will be really honest but the only way it could have worked for me is: if it was confirmed that Akane was supposed to die at 12 and that the clock keepers extended his life with the contract, in the condition that they can take it back if needed.

But once again, we have no infos, Akane would have known this and I personally think it would be unfair to do that. To Akane, and to the clock keepers as characters. And for the loop Nene is stuck in, why would Akane pay for this? He isn't Kou or Hanako, Akane is a kind character, still he woudln't do something like this right away as the first solution expect if he had no choice, it's not Akane's place to pay for this. Nene shouldn't either but it would make more sense for her to pay a price to me for her timeloops.

I will end all of this to say that AidaIro's writing has... not been the greatest for me in this last arc. I understand the need to keep a lot of things mysterious, but they often put setups they never use after (*coughs* the key Nene got from Amane from the past *coughs* Akane's weird body thing I absolutely don't understand) and now we have so littles informations that we can create anything we want if we cross random informations.

I don't think it's too bad if people guess stuff from time to time, if it means the writing is less blurry. Being able to do theories is cool, but like the broadcasting club I just think it makes everything way more underwheling. Right now, absolutely everything could happen, and we could only nod. Because we have absolutely no informations, on Akane's contract, on how time travels really work in tbhk, wtf is going on with Amane and the big clock, how boundaries and the fare shore really work, why tf is Tsuchigomori a supernatural that can appear to human and not some of the others, why Nene is so special and what is the limits of her ''powers'' etc... They refuse to acknowledges some of the early rules they put, and absolutely don't make the characters deal with consequences. I really hope I will be proven wrong this time and to note that this is my opinion btw, but it's been a long time I've had this feeling with the writing and it's even worst with this arc.

I am glad Nene was proven wrong in this chapter (and it ties to something I talk about here more in details with Kou's character too), mostly because it's good to see something that has been implied since some times.

Nene is a good person, a really nice person, but play with the rules when they have been said explicitly, and see how they answer you.

Supernaturals are bound by rules and I truly think humans characters will be the ones who help them all in the end like it has been happening in the manga, even if humans are also the causes of a lot of their sufferings.

I think a human, will be the one to break the curse and the timeline from the clock keepers who are too stuck on their own rules, because it's still not fair. Nene is absolutely right on this and we understand why she took this risk. But I am still glad Nene was proven wrong this time. You can't expect to play with something as powerful as Time and think you will be okay after it.

They were against Death and Life in the last arc, trying to play by the rules and go out of it without consequences. Now they are against something more powerful than Death, something that can controls everything and suposedly exists everywhere, Time.

And the last thing they will probably be against, with the 7th mystery, will be something even more powerful than that.

Something probably close to Omnipotence, Creation and Destruction. Something that doesn't exist by the rules.

Little detail:

It's important to note that the Future still hasn't woken up yet contrary to the Past, since the Present isn't fixed/isn't here :)))

I can't wait to see if she will have a bigger role now, I am excited for her to appear at least. I also don't think Kako said the full truth and we will have the rest of their backstories a little bit later.

[1-800-local-slut]

Hello jenny honey. Could u pls do a storm from marvel rivals inspired reader for mark grayson . Literally queen with her king 🥰🥰

Hey sexy of course I can! These are gonna be short headcanons, because I have to get through a lot of other requests and I'm trying to stop them from piling up.

Mark Grayson x Black! Superpowered! Reader

Warningss: none, just a lot of fluff and good vibes

Notes: hi everyone! I'm sure we all know the legend herself, Storm but if anyone needs to know she has weather-based powers, along with some magic, she just has so many powers that I can't fit them all in here but she's actually so goated. Also you and Mark are in like third year of college so 20-21. Mark is still a drop out but you're still chasing that degree. We love an educated woman! Unless you didn't go to college, we still love y'all.

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻

⚡️Y'all are the couple. Period. The love you have is too mature to be just cute. It's deeper than just cute with y'all

⚡️You're a hottie, Mark was honestly humiliated by how much he liked you considering you ignored him at that bar you met in. The finest girl on Earth to be honest. Your white hair, the natural curve of your hips, the deep rich color of your dark brown skin, the way you walk with confidence, carry yourself with such magnitude. He's so down bad.

⚡️Mark loves flexing you. He's never not hype to say that you're his girl. He drops it as many times as he can into conversation when you first start going out.

"Yes, my girlfriend will have this item right here."

"My girlfriend will also have a coke with that."

"Oh, my girlfriend's not paying, just give me the bill."

⚡️You find it so amusing but honestly Mark doesn't care he's going to flex until the day he dies.

⚡️He does it so much it gets him distracted

"Mark we know she's your girlfriend, lets focus on surviving maybe?" Eve asked, rolling in the giant hamster ball that they somehow got trapped in.

"I'm just saying my girl would never let us get caught in something like this. She's so much smarter than me, I swear I'm not exaggerating. She's like...super smart."

⚡️If anything can make you feel better it's your boo.

⚡️When you're having a terrible day and dark clouds are brewing wherever you go, Mark always brings the sunshine out. He makes you smile, and I mean smile hard. He has you CHEESING. I mean it's randomly hot outside because of how much you love him and the Sun comes out in full force.

⚡️Sometimes it's not global warming it's just you laughing with your man

⚡️You two talk about each other all the time, your friends clown you. You say Mark's name all the time and your girlfriends clown you for it sometimes. And Mark is always getting shit on for flexing on you every ten seconds but neither of you care.

⚡️ You are his safe space. Mark endures a lot of pain. He goes through so much, and when he disappears for three weeks straight it means he's going to need some sweet loving when he gets back

⚡️You always have love for him. Always there to cuddle up with him, to affectionately pat his head, to plant kisses on his skin and whisper soft words in his ear to tell him how he's your man and the only man for you. You love him, you're not going anywhere

⚡️Mark can be goofy with you, he's silly as hell but he also knows something else. He knows that you tend to hold yourself to emotionally high standards. You keep yourself chill because you have too but Mark always gets you laughing. It's not on purpose, he just brings out joy in you by being his dorky self.

⚡️ You have a bad habit of letting the little stuff get you down. Mark will adjust to anything if it helps the situation.

You have a headache, now it's down pouring, and you feel really bad? There's nothing some advil and a good nap together can't fix.

You got pissed off by someone at work and a storm cloud followed you around no matter what? Mark is there with a soothing back rub and giving you a safe space to explain your emotions.

⚡️Mark loves sleeping beside you. He just likes having someone there, and you are the best someone in the world to him.

⚡️Mark likes to do your hair. You don't let him do it often because your hair is so important to you. You serve looks and body no matter what. You could shave your head bald right now and still serve looks so hard the Earthquakes. But you do love your white curls and strive to care for them.

⚡️However, the feeling of Mark touching you is so soothing. You've fallen asleep while he was gently detangling your hair, the feeling of his calloused fingers massaging oil into your scalp is like melatonin. The man has magic hands.

⚡️Since you two have started dating, he's been adopting little parts of you. You're a baddie, so you have some different requirements.

⚡️He has to carry your lip glosses and stains in his pockets, he holds the camera on his phone up for you to use as a mirror, keeps an eye out for any losers who think they have a chance and don't take Mark standing there as a sign to piss off, carries an umbrella with him everywhere. The normal stuff.

⚡️Something Mark loves about you is your maturity. You're a grown woman. You pay your rent on time, your car note is always paid, them utilities have never been turned off on you, and your credit score is better than Mark's entire future. He's used to being with girls who are still a little childish (this is not Amber slander, never gonna hate on my girl) so he likes that about you. It's different but he loves it.

⚡️You're teaching him how to stand on his own two feet as an adult. You have loving parents of course, but you're at that age where you're starting your own life. Mark has never been on his own. He's always had to be responsible for everyone but never really learned how to be responsible for himself.

⚡️Mark wasn't perfect when you two met (you weren't either) but that's part of a relationship. Helping each other grow. Mark eventually starts feeling frustrated about his life. He has a steady income but it's hard.

⚡️He feels a bit like a loser sometimes. His friends have cars, drivers' licenses, can shop for their own groceries, are shopping for apartments. Even getting pets. Mark is 20, dropped out of college, Oliver is old enough now where he isn't even purple anymore, he's still doing the same thing he was at 18. Dropping his life to save other lives.

⚡️You notice his little funk, so you decide to step in because if there's one thing you gon do it's take care of yours. You call him up one day and tell him you're thinking of moving. Your real estate agent is gonna come by and show you around some places, he should come with you.

⚡️You said this while putting up new pictures in your apartment by the way, you aren't moving anywhere. But you fly over and pick up Mark. You two walk around looking at all these apartments while Mark skeptically tries to figure out what's wrong with your apartment for you to suddenly move.

"This looks just like your old apartment without the balcony. Why are you moving again?"

"Hm?"

"Why are you moving?"

"Oh you know. Just a change of pace. Moving my life forward. Hey, look at this! There's a washer and dryer in here."

"Right."

⚡️He's suspicious by the third apartment. Mainly because he knows he just helped you put a new dresser in your bedroom and buying new furniture for your old apartment isn't exactly 'moving my life forward' behavior. However, he can't say he doesn't appreciate you.

⚡️But he is gonna bait you into confessing. Later that night when you're eating pizza in your apartment.

He's lighting a candle on your coffee table while you put down coasters for your drinks before he clears his throat, interrupting the ambience of the show in the back ground

"So, babe."

"Yes baby?"

"I'm...I'm feeling a bit bummed."

You stop, looking at him with concern. You put down your paper plate, before propping your body on the couch with your elbow on the top of the couch. You rest your head on your palm, using your free hand to touch his hand that rested on his thigh.

"Why?"

He sighed, leaning back in the couch and letting his head dramatically fall backwards.

"You're about to be on your second apartment. I still live with my mom. My full-time job is being Invincible, but you're about to graduate. And you know maybe school wasn't for me but I still don't want to live at home forever. I just wish I had someone to show me what to do."

Meanwhile you're looking like you're about to burst. He sits silently before you sigh and drop your shoulders.

"Okay. We weren't apartment shopping for me today. We were kind of apartment shopping for you today. And I know you didn't ask but I hate seeing you in such a slump. I just want you to...you know maybe start your own life. I'm a superhero too but I have a life. You can afford it. You can't really do the same stuff you can from living at home. You can't get crazy drunk, you can't really come and go as you please. And you need to learn how to take care of yourself! Like laundry, and bills and grocery shopping-"

Before he's placing a hand over yours. He stops your ramble before you can explain till your face turns blue.

"Thank you."

⚡️It's full steam ahead from there. You don't believe in babying men, but Mark wants this. He wants to be his own person. Sometimes he needs a little help but eventually he gets the hang of balancing being an adult and being Invincible. And no, you don't let him move in with you.

"But we could save on rent!"

"And probably break up from you fucking up basic house chores. Baby you need to learn to live on your own. You're a great man already but you need to be a capable one. You've never been on your own but now you have too."

You scolded while shoving his tired face away off your lap and tap on the screen of his laptop for him to go back to viewing apartments.

⚡️Mark loves that you think before you act. You two love each other so much that you'd jump at being around him all the time. But you think it through. You aren't here to baby a man. You aren't here to hold him down. And you aren't going too either. Mark appreciates you so much and appreciates how you're helping him live his life. Without you he would've been too scared to start.

⚡️When he does get an apartment, you get him a nice plant as a house warming gift. You help him unpack and you two spend the rest of the night eating chic-fil-a on his living room floor and listening to him figure out what comes next.

⚡️Mark's your biggest fan! He's at your graduation front and center. He's hype, he's recording, he's wearing a matching outfit with whatever you have under your robe.

⚡️Oh he's a good cook by the way. Hell, he can make the best bowl of cereal in the world.

⚡️On a side note, public perception of you two is a bit funny. You're well known in your field of choice. You're a smart, independent, successful young woman with a bright future ahead. And Mark's your boyfriend who as far as anyone knows is unemployed, lives in an apartment who everyone assumes is paid for by his parents and does essentially nothing all day. They're wrong but you can't tell your coworkers that

⚡️The short answer you give when asked about him is 'he makes me happy'. That's enough for anyone. As it should be, because who are they to be in your business?

⚡️You two are a powerful, loving couple. As superheroes and as regular people. Very much girl boss x male wife but the male wife is just as strong. You two are very much a perfect match. You show Mark how to take life seriously. Not just his life as Invincible but to take his life as Mark Grayson seriously. He's always there to support you no matter what.

⚡️It's real mature love around here y'all.

(I'm randomly tempted to write a one shot about you adopting a cat and the two of you taking care of it together. That's all. Goodbye!)

[somedaylazysomeday]

Broken

Reader (no pronouns used, but reader has a vagina) x Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and Captain Price (separately, but could be read as poly if you want)

Reader-insert character(s) deals with various symptoms of vaginismus with support from her boyfriend(s).

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,750

Warnings: Vaginismus (involuntary tightening of the vagina when anything is placed inside), frustration, self-loathing, disparaging self-talk, tampon use, discussion of periods, piv sex, sexting/video chatting, sex toy use, use of a vaginal dilator

NOTE: This is a very personal fic and probably won't mesh with everyone's idea of what the 141st would be like as partners. I read a fic similar to this one years ago (so long ago that I don't remember the author or even the fandom), but it made me feel so much less alone. I want to do that for someone else. Please, be respectful in your comments/reblogs or skip this one, friends.

Masterlist

---

You weren't sure which bothered you more - the humiliation or the waste of it all.

Tampons weren't cheap, and you had just gone through three. They were collected in the bathroom trash can, applicator tips bloodied and cotton in various stages of pushed out. You hadn't managed to get any of the applicators where they needed to be before your traitorous muscles had clamped down, keeping everything out.

You had cleaned up as best you could. Your hands were washed, your pants were up, and your pad was securely in place. There was no sign of your struggles, other than the discarded tampons and a few bloody wipes.

And your tears, of course.

Crying wasn't going to help any of it, obviously. If vaginismus could be cured with a good cry about it, you would have been able to put in a tampon years ago. And use that one vibrator you had bought when you were feeling ambitious. And have sex with your boyfriend.

Your incredibly kind, incredibly encouraging, incredibly patient boyfriend. Thinking about him made you cry harder.

The dating situation had been brutal. The instant your potential boyfriends had learned that penetrative sex was off the proverbial table - at least, for the moment - they had disappeared faster than you could say, "I give an amazing blow job."

But Simon had been unbothered. "'m too big for most women, sweetheart. Even if we never fuck, there are other things we'll like just as much."

He had been okay with the status quo since he had arrived in your life, but you couldn't help but feel like a failure. Like something was deeply wrong with you and that you were inconveniencing him. Why should you have a boyfriend at all if you couldn't have sex with him? Especially someone as wonderful as Simon. You were just keeping someone else from having him-

"You good?"

Simon's deep voice cut through the door easily. You knew that you had been in the bathroom too long for him not to notice, but you swiped at your nose and cheeks anyway. In a voice that was almost normal, you called back, "All good! I'll be done in a minute."

There was a pause just long enough for you to know that he hadn't believed you. Maybe your 'almost normal' voice had been less normal than you'd thought.

When he said, "Open the door, sweetheart," you knew he had you figured out.

Reluctantly, you opened the door, trying to act like everything was fine. Just a time-of-the-month cry. You'd been known to have one or two of those in the past.

"What's going on?" Simon asked, leaning casually against the counter. His gaze was far sharper than his tone, searching across your face as if he could read your mind through it. You wouldn't put it past him, honestly.

"Just a bad day," you explained away with a shrug. "My period is heavy today and I'm sick of it."

He hummed noncommittally. You took a few deep breaths, trying to get rid of your post-cry hiccups. While you waited for that to work, you dug for some hydrating lotion to soothe your inflamed face.

"Your bad day doesn't have anything to do with the tampons in the bin, does it?"

You glanced up, startled, and met Simon's eyes in the mirror. The knowing look on his face was tempered with an equal amount of sympathy, and you dissolved into tears again.

His arms were around you, holding you close as he rocked gently back and forth.

"I'm so frustrated," you explained when you calmed down enough to speak. "I've put in a lot of work to be normal and I still can't-"

"Hey," Simon interrupted. "Normal is bullshit and you know it. Everyone's got stuff they'd change. I know how much you've done. You can take one of my fingers now. You couldn't do that when we first started dating."

That almost made you cry again. "One finger. Why do you put up with me? There are other people you'd actually be able to have sex with. I don't want to hold you back."

Simon stared down, eyes going distant and cold in a way that reminded you that the Ghost persona was still in there. "Because I don't want another person. I'm not with you for the sex. If you want me to leave, you're gonna have to tell me. Don't pretend like it's something you're doing for my sake."

"I don't want you to leave," you admitted. "I just don't want you to feel like you have to stay with someone broken. Not when you could-"

His hand covered your mouth, brown eyes warm once more. "Enough of that. I'm not going anywhere. We both know this is how it goes. You get better for a while, then you have a setback. That's life."

You nodded miserably, but he didn't let you get away that easily. He caught your gaze again, amusement in his voice as he added, "'Sides, if I left, how could I find someone else who understands my jokes?"

You rolled your eyes, tugging his hand away from your mouth. "People don't laugh at your jokes because they're not funny, not because they don't understand them."

"Then why do you always laugh, sweetheart?" he asked, bending down obligingly so you could press a kiss to his lips.

The answer, of course, was that you loved him. And deep down, you knew that was the same reason he stayed.

---

"H- Uh. Wait, I need to… Let me just-"

Johnny withdrew from you, moving back enough for you to sit up. He flopped comfortably into the space you had just left, erection pressing against his lower stomach as you straddled him.

He knew about your issues. Some days, it wasn't a problem. Just a little extra foreplay and you were good to go. Other days, you had to get creative to keep sex from hurting. This was one of the latter.

Fortunately, Johnny was easy to please.

"Mmm," he hummed appreciatively, hands running up your hips to sink into the soft skin at your waist. "Can't say I'm upset about this view, hen."

You believed him. Johnny's expression was blissful as his hands kept moving upward until they were playing with your breasts. He was hard as ever. Clearly, the change in position hadn't bothered him any.

You held the base of his erection in place as you sank down onto it. Or tried to.

By your best estimation, you had just gotten the head of his cock inside of your pussy before your inner muscles locked down. The burning was actually worse in this position, and you paused, thighs screaming at the effort required to hold yourself halfway between kneeling and sitting.

"You're so tight," Johnny grunted, a blissful edge to it as his hands fell away from your breasts.

You caught one hand, pressing it back in place at your chest. He obliged you by tweaking one of your nipples. The sensation brought a fresh flood of wetness between your legs, and you sank a little further.

Then the pinch came, accompanied with burning so intense that you froze in place. It took an immense amount of effort to keep from tearing yourself up off of him. In fact, the major thing stopping you was that you were afraid it would hurt worse to feel his length pulling out of you.

"Hen?" Johnny was staring up at you, concern in his eyes. His hands had gone from your chest to your hips, bracing as if to lift you up.

"Just need… need a second," you insisted, hands grabbing his. You moved one back to your breast and the other between your legs. "Touch me a little more."

"Never a problem," he assured you, fingers moving dexterously to ease that horrible pinching in your pussy. "But we can stop if you need. I know being on top can hurt you if you're not-"

"I can do this," you insisted. Your optimism was slightly undermined by the way you gritted it out through your teeth. "I want to do this."

With the new wetness he had coaxed from your body, you sank a little deeper on Johnny's cock. The pinch came back with a vengeance, accompanied by a burning so intense that your legs stiffened on instinct. The feeling of Johnny tugging free of you was as bad as you feared, forcing a gasp out of you.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I just-"

"Easy there," Johnny soothed, catching at your waist and easing you to lie down on the bed beside him. "Everything is all right."

You nodded, afraid to say anything in case you started crying. To cover your welling eyes, you tossed your arm across your face. You tried to subtly wipe the tears against the crook of your elbow.

"Look at me, love."

The softness in his voice made you cry more, a tear slipping past the barrier of your arm.

"Hey, now," he wheedled, tugging at your wrist. "None 'a that. We tried something and it didn't work."

"I'm sorry, Johnny," you offered, letting him pull your arm away from your face. He clucked sympathetically, wiping at the tears. "I don't know what's wrong with me today. I can't-"

"Today?" he repeated with a snort. Your heart sank at the reminder that this was hardly rare for you. "I know exactly what's wrong with you: you don't let me do enough for you, you make me laugh when I'm raging, you always wear too many clothes for me to see your pretty body…"

You were smiling despite yourself and he leaned down to steal a quick kiss. "But if you're talking about this? Not a thing wrong, hen."

"Still, I'm sorry we had to stop," you said, smile fading under the guilt. "If you give me a few minutes, we can try again."

"Nah," Johnny said cheerily, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. "Was getting hungry anyway."

He wriggled his way down the bed until he was between your legs. You put your hand against his forehead when he tried to lick your pussy. He let out a grumble. "Just thought of another thing wrong with you, but we can fix it quick enough."

"I don't want you to just get me off," you protested. "I want to make you feel good, too."

"Don't think you understand how much I enjoy this, love." You stared at him stonily and he grinned. "If you wanted a taste, all you had to do was ask."

In a moment, he had flipped around on the bed and tugged you on top of him. Johnny buried his tongue in you, thumb flicking at your clit. You stared at his still-slick cock from point-blank range, mouth watering even as you groaned for him. The instant you caught your breath, you were going to make Johnny see stars.

---

"Miss you, love."

You smiled at the camera. "I miss you, too! Wish I could be there."

Kyle glanced over his shoulder as if he could see anything past the white-painted cinderblocks that made up the walls of the room. "Nah, you don't."

"Okay, I wish you could be here," you amended.

Kyle smiled, teeth flashing white in the darkness. "Better."

The silence stretched for a moment longer than was comfortable as you searched for something to say that didn't sound like you were pining away while you waited for him to come home. He wasn't even on a mission or anything vital - you would never be able to video call him if he were - just a routine training at another base.

Before you could come up with some brilliant conversational segue, Kyle leaned a little closer to the camera and flashed a charming smile. "Those pajamas look very uncomfortable."

You glanced down at yourself, unable to fight back a laugh. "These are my softest ones and you know it."

"Yeah, I do." For a second, you thought that would be the end of it, but he waggled his eyebrows - a habit he had picked up recently from Soap. "Must be whatever you've got underneath them."

"Kyle!" you admonished, feeling a little breathless with daring. "Aren't these connections monitored?"

"Yes, but how close are they really watching? It's a video call and it's not like we have enemies invading." Your expression must have looked totally unconvinced, because he brought out the puppy dog eyes. "C'mon, love. You don't have to show anything. I just want to hear you enjoying yourself."

You bit your lip. It was a bad idea. You knew it was a bad idea. You were just finding it a little difficult to convince yourself of that at the moment.

Less than two minutes later, you were fully naked under your sheets, phone carefully angled to keep yourself mostly hidden in the darkness. Kyle was far less worried about the potential of being monitored than you were, and the sight of his hard length was making your mouth water.

He had been murmuring sexy little things into the microphone long enough to push you toward a reaction. Normally, dirty talk made you cringe, but your body must have been particularly desperate for him. You were undeniably wet, fingertips slipping when you finally brushed them over your clit.

The gasp that pulled from you made Kyle groan. His hand closed around his cock, and his head kicked back at the friction of his own palm. "Use- ah. Use your rabbit. I know how much you like it. Not gonna last long. I want you to come with me."

Obediently, you retrieved the rabbit vibrator from the bedside drawer. You grabbed the small bottle of lube on reflex, but it was never a bad idea.

However, even after lubing up the toy and yourself, things were going poorly.

Your breaths were coming faster - not from pleasure, but frustration. The toy that you had taken so easily only days before just… wasn't fitting inside of you. You pressed harder, pushing out a breath to relax your inner muscles. All you got was an impassable pressure that threatened to turn into pain if you kept forcing it.

You turned on the vibrator to the lowest setting and ran the tip of it around your entrance. Maybe you could coax your pussy into relaxing enough… Even so, the thoughts wouldn't stop circling.

You didn't have much time with Kyle. He had wanted you to do this one thing and you couldn't. And what if there was someone watching? They couldn't see you, not really, but they would be able to tell that there was something wrong. Because there was something wrong. Something with you. Other women could do this. Most women could do this.

"Get out of that head, love."

Kyle's warning brought you back to yourself, helped you realize that only moment had passed since your pussy had locked down against the vibe.

"I can't get it," you admitted, hearing the defeat in your own voice. "It's just not going to happen today. I'm sorry."

"Stop that," he ordered. "I want to hear you come, love. Doesn't have to be on the rabbit. I don't care about how you get there, I just want you to feel good. Use your bullet, then. Nothing that pretty clit likes better than some attention."

You obeyed, reaching over to grab the bullet vibrator from the same drawer that had held the rabbit vibrator. Kyle groaned and you glanced back at the screen to find that the sheet had fallen away from your body. One of your breasts was visible in the dim glow of the computer screen, tightly budded nipple on full display. You snatched the sheet back up to your chest, but Kyle's eyes were fixed on the screen, hand moving quickly under his own blankets.

When you were settled back in place, Kyle leaned forward slightly. His pupils were blown wide and his breath was coming faster. You were sure you looked the same way.

"Now, let's get you feeling as good as I do," Kyle urged. "Let me hear you."

Your eyes closed as you pressed the buzzing silicon to your clit. Kyle wanted to hear you, and your body was only too happy to oblige as you hurtled over the edge and into a toe-curling orgasm.

---

You were having a lovely dream, but your bladder was prompting you to wake up.

You managed to push away the need once, twice… but eventually, you couldn't sleep comfortably.

Normally, getting up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night wasn't the worst thing. You fell asleep again fairly quickly, especially when John was there to keep you warm and cuddled. This time was a little different, and there were a few different steps you would need to take…

Just before you had gone to sleep, John had propped himself on one elbow, leaning over you and holding up your largest dilator. The bright yellow piece of silicon looked faintly ridiculous in his hand, and you found yourself glancing between it and John's eyes as you tried to figure out what was happening.

"Might fancy a bit of fun tomorrow morning," he teased. "Maybe you should sleep with it in so you're ready."

It was presented as a joke, the quiet amusement in John's eyes telling you that he expected nothing to come from it.

So, naturally, you had grabbed it from him and shoved your hand into your underwear. "Great idea. If nothing else, it'll make sleeping interesting."

John had taken it back from you immediately, sliding down between your knees and inserting it with a care that you were likely to skip these days. You had grown used to the dilators, and they didn't make you feel so achingly stretched anymore. The tenderness of John's touch made you melt all the same.

Despite what you had said, you fell asleep quickly and deeply. Your dreams, unsurprisingly, were horny and desperate, but no less deep. It had been - in short - an excellent night so far, but now your last drink was haunting you and you dreaded having to remove the dilator to use the toilet.

You laid there, half-awake and indecisive, until your bladder gave a firm throb of warning and you slid to the edge of the bed.

It was jarring when everything seemed to slide forward, but you recognized the arms that wrapped around you. John was forever a cuddler and he didn't take kindly to you leaving the bed in the middle of the night. He pressed an uncoordinated kiss to your temple, muttering something that might have been, "Where are you going?"

You wriggled a bit, trying to assure your body that you really were on your way to empty your bladder. "Bathroom."

It would be easier to take the dilator out in the light and privacy of the bathroom, you decided, and had started for the edge of the bed when John's arms tightened again. The silicon shifted oddly inside of you as John pulled one of your legs backward and over his hip, opening you up. Before you could protest, he snaked a hand into your panties and removed the dilator easily.

You were still gaping about the ease and painlessness of it when he patted you on the ass. "Hurry, love."

When you had finished relieving yourself, you stared at your reflection for a long moment. Surely John didn't want to have sex with you now, right? The dilator had stretched you, but not enough. Trying to take his cock now would hurt, plain and simple. Would he be upset if you told him you couldn't right now? Would he take it as a rejection of him instead of a request for more time?

You would just have to explain it to him, you decided, drying your hands and applying a thin layer of lotion. It wasn't as if John were the first boyfriend you'd had to explain this to. And if it went poorly, he wouldn't be the first one to get his feelings hurt by the situation.

A deep breath left you feeling calmer, but still dreading the conversation. You snapped the light off before you opened the door, hoping beyond hope that John would have fallen asleep again before you made it back to bed.

Not only was he awake, but he had switched on a light. In the warm golden glow of the bedside lamp, he lay on his back, one arm tucked behind his head. The dilator was propped on his lower abdomen, rising and falling with his gentle breath. The slight movement made the light glisten off a fresh coat of lube. A bubble of laughter rose in your gut at the sight. The positioning of the scene almost made it look like he had a particularly unimpressive and fluorescent yellow erection.

When you made no move to come back to bed, John lifted his head to look at you. "Come here. We'll put this back in and go back to sleep."

Your relief at not having to explain your body to him made you lightheaded. You stumbled giddily back to the bed and scrambled onto it in an uncoordinated sprawl.

John leaned back onto his pillow and patted his stomach beside the dilator. "Need any help getting it back in?"

"I think I will," you said gravely, stopping his hand when he moved to pick up the silicon cylinder. "Keep it steady for me, won't you?"

With John's hand wrapped around the base of the dilator, you were free to move your panties to the side and lower yourself onto it. The position wasn't always something that worked for you during actual penetrative sex, but you liked that this was allowing you to control the pace. You were relaxed with sleep, an empty bladder, and laughter, and you found that the dilator went in without a problem.

When you were straddling John's waist, pussy pressed flush against his stomach, you looked down. John was chuckling back at you, eyes warm. "Proud of you, love. Let's go back to sleep, yeah?"

"Please," you agreed, laughing when he pulled your chest down to his, rolling you until he was happy with your position.

You ended up on your side, face tucked into the warm curve of John's neck. His thigh was firmly between yours, pressing the dilator into you. The resulting pressure against your clit sent little thrills through you even as you felt yourself slipping back into rest.

You couldn't wait for the morning.

---

Author's Note - I'm sure we've all seen the tumblr post about vaginismus and how isolating it is. If you skipped the note at the top of this fic, I read a similar fic a long time ago that helped me deal with my own stuff. I want to do the same for other readers.

If this was familiar, or you already know you have vaginismus, please remember that it doesn't define you. It is treatable with dilators and potentially physical therapy in certain cases. Find someone to speak to. Sex shouldn't hurt and you should be able to put in a tampon. And if you decide not to treat it at all, none of that changes your value as a human being.

Anyway, thanks for reading! :)

[devious--muffin]

Development and Restoration

A one-shot for the @drarrymicrofic weekly challenge (and Summer Bingo!) Prompt: Rebuild

Bingo Squares collected with this fic: Pining, Roommates, Unusual Jobs (barely), Epistolary, and Fighting to Fucking

Dear Charlie,

I’m not saying you were right, but I should have taken you up on your offer. I thought I could disappear for a while and do some good, hide from the world while I help restore Hogwarts. While I am doing that, I’ve somehow found myself tied to Malfoy, of all people. He’s here too, probably mandated by the Wizengamot, and not only have we been partnered together on a project, but we have to share quarters. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t stand his pompous arse; it’s only been one night, and he’s already driven me out of the room with his bitching about cleanliness and order. How am I possibly going to keep my sanity?

-Harry

Dear Blaise,

I hope Italy is treating you well. I’m pleased to hear that you’ve made it safely, and I look forward to visiting as soon as my probationary period is up. You’ve likely heard, but I’ve been given the option to either return to Azkaban for six months, or assist in rebuilding Hogwarts. I’m sure you can imagine which one I chose. No, manual labor doesn’t appeal to me, but it certainly beats the alternative.

One thing I hadn’t considered when selecting this option was who else might be involved. Potter is here because, of course he is. He can’t keep himself from any philanthropic project, can he? We’ve been assigned to the same section, as well as the same quarters. If you don’t hear from me in a few weeks, please assume that one of us is dead and the other in Azkaban. (Though, would they really put the Savior of the Wizarding World in Azkaban?)

-DLM

Pans,

You won’t believe it. I’m living with Harry. Living with him! I can’t possibly express my enthusiasm in mere words. What if I see him in his pants? Merlin, I might have to AK myself, because my reaction will not be normal. I’m sleeping in the same room as him. I’m sharing his air, Pans! He’s a little messy, but I can fix him. Oh, and we’re working together to restore the Astronomy Tower, too! It’s just us, so we’re alone together basically all day every day. I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself.

-Draco

Dear Charlie,

The first thing I did was ask McGonagall for a room and assignment change. Do you know what she said to me? “We’re all adults, Mr. Potter. It’s time you two act like it.” What a load of bullshite. I’m sure she’ll feel differently when one of us kills the other in their sleep. Oh, did I mention Malfoy snores? Worse than a train! I can’t stand it.

What do you mean, “Maybe it’s the best thing for you”? Do you want me to lose my mind? We’ve already almost come to blows over a sock I dropped on the loo floor. A sock! If you see in the papers that I’ve been arrested for murdering Malfoy, please find me a fantastic solicitor. I’m certain, once I explain our history and these forced living arrangements, they’ll be able to get me off with a warning.

-Harry

Dear Blaise,

Not to worry, I’m completely unharmed. I’m going to ignore your comment about enclosed spaces and secret crushes, because not only was it crude but also completely inaccurate. Things have been going better than I anticipated, actually. Potter and I have had some verbal altercations, and there’s been a bit of shoving over his slovenly habits, but nothing unexpected.

I’m glad you’re enjoying your time in Italy. Do you have plans to return and finish your education here, or is there a program there that will allow you to complete your N.E.W.T.s? I’m still undecided on if I want to accept the offer Headmistress McGonagall has extended to us, to return for an Eighth Year. I don’t know if I can

-DLM

Pans,

I’m losing my mind. Certifiably. He leaves his clothing everywhere, and they all smell like him. I’m surrounded by the scent of Harry. Also, he’s adorable when he sleeps. I haven’t been watching him or anything; that would be creepy. You know I’m an early riser, and he sleeps until the last possible moment, so I’m treated to a vision of him curled up in a ball, hair wild and face soft, every morning.

He’s even cute when he’s trying to be threatening. I may have purposely riled him up over something insignificant, because he was attempting to ignore me. Ignore me, Pans. If I’d known how attractive he looked with that flush, or how hot his hands would be against my shoulders, I’d have done it much sooner. He pushed me against the wall! For a moment, I was completely at his mercy, and let me tell you, I practically melted. Merlin, I don’t know how I’m going to last these next few months. How far is too far to push someone?

-Draco

Charlie,

We’ve made some headway on the Astronomy tower. I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but Malfoy is actually kind of artistic. He designed this mural to stretch all the way up to the observation deck, and it basically tells the story of the war. You’d think he’d have skipped over his own involvement, or at least tried to downplay it, but he didn’t. I didn’t understand why McGonagall gave him such an important job, seeing as we have actual contractors on site, but I guess she knew he needed some kind of outlet. Someone else is going to paint it; Merlin knows if I tried, they’d have to cover it up immediately!

-Harry

Pans,

Something happened. I don’t know if I’ve just worn him down, or he’s being affected by something else, but Harry was actually nice to me today. I drew up plans for a mural for the Astronomy Tower (McGonagall asked me to. I bet it’s because she feels like I’m not contributing enough, but I like to believe it’s because she somehow knows I secretly like to draw), and Harry complemented me on it! He said, and I quote, “Wow, that’s actually really good.” Eeee! What do I do, Pans? Do you think he fancies me, too? Should I tell him how I feel, or would that be too much, too soon?

-Draco

Charlie,

I can’t believe we’re almost done. It feels like we’ve been rebuilding for years, but also only a few days. It was hard work, but I’m really proud of what we’ve accomplished here. I’ve learned a lot along the way; about myself, about others, about the castle. It’s been really healing to do something so labor-intensive and just be, instead of always feeling like I have to be careful of what I say or do in case it gets leaked to the papers or misconstrued by someone. I think all of us have sides that we don’t share with many people. Draco is very different from the person I thought he was. The war has changed him, as it has all of us, but he has a tender heart, which I never would have expected. The entire time I’ve known him, he’s always pretended to be this stuck-up git, better than everyone else and just a terrible person all around, but it’s all been an act. Every interaction we’ve ever had has just been a projection of who his family expected him to be, who his friends thought he was, and who he felt like he had to embody to be successful in life. It’s been really eye-opening to see all of that fall away and get to know the real person underneath.

-Harry

Pans,

What I thought was going to be the worst summer of my life has actually turned out to be, for lack of a better word, magical. He kissed me. He KISSED me! We finally sat down and really talked, got to know each other and peeled back all the layers of shite that we’ve built up between us. It’s amazing, but he’s exactly who I thought he was; selfless, kind, accidentally charming. Without the blinders of my father and his unyielding faith in the Dark Lord, I can see what practically everyone else already knew: Harry truly is a gift to this world.

It was freeing to finally show him who I am, and I guess he likes who that is, because he kissed me! We were chatting on the sofa, and I’d just told him a particularly difficult bit of my childhood, and he leaned forward with this look in his eye. It was fierce, like he was going into battle, and for a moment, I thought he was going to hit me. But, he reached out and grabbed the back of my neck, pulled me in, and before I knew what was happening, his lips were on mine.

It was fantastic, Pans. Best kiss I’ve ever had (don’t be offended). It was short, and he looked a tad embarrassed afterward, but I think we’re moving in the right direction! How soon is too soon to say ‘I love you’?

Just kidding! Also, did I mention that Harry Potter Kissed Me!?

-Draco

Dear Blaise,

Apologies for the delay in response, there have been quite a few new developments around here. It’s completely understandable that you would want to stay away from England for the time being; I can see why it might be difficult for you and your family. I’m still undecided on whether I will attend a second last year, but I think I’m leaning toward the positive. It would be nothing but helpful, to be able to say I finished my education even in the midst of a war.

I have to admit that you may have been correct about my and Harry’s interactions and potential relationship. We’ve both grown as people, and being forced together such as we are has really made us reconsider things. We’ve gotten on much better than I expected, and there may be some reciprocal feelings. Don’t go getting an inflated ego; this will be the one and only time I ever admit you were more accurate than I first suspected.

-DLM

Charlie,

I take back what I said at the beginning of the summer; I’m glad I didn’t go back to Romania with you. You’ll likely see this in the papers soon, but it wouldn’t be right not to tell you myself. Draco and I are together.

If you’d have told me a few months ago that we’d end up here, I would have laughed in your face, or possibly hexed you, but looking back on it, I feel like this was inevitable. We’re so different, yet so similar, and I think that’s what made us fantastic enemies. I hope it’s what will make us fantastic boyfriends, too.

I know what you and I had was casual, no labels or expectations, but I still feel guilty for moving on this way. Please tell me that you forgive me.

-Harry

[agent-yolk-writes]

A Nightmare in Devildom (Obey Me/Nightmare on Elm Street concept fic)

Basically what it says on the tin. A "what if MC was a survivor of freddy kreuger's torment before the events of OM" concept fic.

This is was of those weird ideas I came with this during the early covid lockdown period where my insomnia got really bad to the point where I was borderline delirious. I meant to get this out during October for spooky season vibes but after three Octobers came and went and Obey Me isn't getting any more updates, I figure I throw it into the pit before that happens. No beta we die like obey me as a franchise, I guess!

If this inspires you to write something similar, please let me know! If you want me to write more...please reconsider!

And, of course, happy holidays!

AO3 Mirror Link

Good lord, I look terrible. You thought as you looked at yourself in the mirror. When was the last time I got some rest?

Other than looking more visibly tired, you look...older. It was the face of a nurse finally coming home after back-to-back double shifts. The bags under your eyes could only get so dark, but thankfully you knew a demon who had so much concealer and foundation lying around that he wouldn’t know if a few went missing. 

You knew you shouldn’t be continuing this habit, but you can’t help it. Despite living in a mansion with the most powerful demons in Literal Hell(!!) in the past few weeks your brain is still not convinced that you’re safe from Him . Would he still have the balls to terrorize you still? Does he even know where you are? Surely he’ll just know when you disappeared without a trace, but you can’t afford to find out for yourself. 

As much as you wanted to tell the brothers, you didn’t want to drag them into this mess. After all, this problem only started just weeks before you were brought here. It came without warning, and suddenly it turned into a bloodied hurricane. To think He was the one that killed your friends and classmates back in the human world…you regretted not being able to do more for them until you were in His sights.

This opportunity with the exchange program was either a saving grace or a divine intervention, and you’re not going to let that chance slip away from you. You have the whole year to work on magic and potions and anything else that could possibly drive Him away if not kill him for good, and you highly doubt he’s going to forget about you. Knowing how to do magic is one thing, but putting it to memory is another. This wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t so damn tired. You’re trying so hard to pay attention in class, but you just end up more focused on trying to keep your eyes open lest you allow Him to strike at your most vulnerable. 

However, there is one possible solution. The only problem is that you needed to form a pact with his other brothers before he could even consider helping you, that slothful bastard. Belphegor knows how tired you are and how you would do anything for a safe and peaceful rest. There was no point hiding it from him as you were with the others. Oh, how you envied the way he could sleep the day away in his little prison cell…you could just punch him if only you had the strength.

…

You really didn’t feel good about the multi-layered lie you found yourself webbed into to get the pacts in the first place. You recently got Beelzebub’s pact, putting you at the halfway mark. He looked so happy about your ‘plan’ to impress Lucifer enough to have him make up with Belphegor that it made your stomach churn in shame. Is it really okay for you to do this? Wouldn’t it be easier to tell the truth? Out of all the brothers, you couldn’t help but feel guilty for lying to Beel.

But what if Lucifer points his finger at Belphegor if you bring it up before you’re able to finish explaining? Would it destroy all the progress you made? Would you make things worse ? If they draw parallels that your deprivation is somehow related to the seventh-born’s sleep-related powers…only Lucifer would have an answer different from the other five. That’s why you have to keep up this facade for as long as you can. That’s why you need to stay awake. To find a way to protect yourself as well as the others. 

Your new friends at Purgatory Hall, bless their hearts, were none the wiser. Considering two of them were actual angels, you would’ve expected at least Luke to confront you with tears in his eyes about your health at least a month in. He makes a big talk about how you should never trust ‘those demons’ before having lunch with Beelzebub. Sometimes you think Solomon is giving you weird looks whenever you make eye contact with him. It’s probably the sleep-deprived paranoia, but you hope it’s nothing. You’ve been getting away with it for this long, so what? 

Tomorrow you have to stay over at Diavolo’s castle as part of an exchange party sleepaway camp or something. If you’re lucky, you can have a room for yourself. You don’t pack your go-to methods for staying awake until right before everyone heads out.

~

The steaming heat of the boiler room did not warm the chill in your bones one bit. 

You should know the inner workings of this hellscape by now. It was His favorite hunting ground, after all. However, something seems different this time. Everything felt…a bit shifted to the right, in a way. On top of that, there’s no sight or sound of Him anywhere. No taunting catchphrases, no spooky teleports he’s fond of doing, not even the shilling sound of his claw on metal when he’s close. This is probably his new trick, you think. Lulling you into a false sense of security before-

You turned around, involuntary flinching as you braced yourself to be hit. Only to process seconds later that nothing’s coming. In fact, there was no sign of life behind you in the first place. Damn it, he really was playing with you at this point. As soon as you let out a sigh of relief, you heard someone screaming from the other side of the room. You couldn’t tell who they were, but that’s not going to stop you. You ran towards the sound before you let the dread wash over you. 

“I’m coming!” You yelled at them. “Wake up! He can’t hurt you if you’re awake!” You were so focused on tilting your head up to project your voice to the other person that you didn’t realize you hit a dead end until you ran into a wall of pipes. “Oh, god damn it!” You cursed, pivoting on your foot to turn around and run even faster. 

What happened next happened too fast. You didn’t know where you were going. Everything is starting to blur together. A pipe managed to burst the same second you turned your head to follow the noise, immediately blinding your vision with steam and a “Shit!” jumping out of your mouth. The suddenness of it all made you lose your momentum and you feel yourself stumbling forward. You didn’t have time to brace yourself for the sharp object that’s going right through your- 

You wake with an audible gasp, hands going up to your throat. The sound of your racing heart and your uneven breathing replace the sounds of pipes and steam. You looked around in the darkness and could barely see two bodies sleeping in their respective beds. Ah, that’s right. This is the first night of Diavolo’s retreat, and you find yourself paired to a room with Asmodeus and Simeon. In an attempt to pretend you’re asleep ended up having you fall asleep for real. You couldn’t help but think how pathetic you were for letting your guard down for one second and falling into His hands again after so long all because you were waiting for someone to finish their 20-step overnight skin routine.

With a shuddered sigh, you carefully slipped out of your bed and into the hallway in hopes you could clear your thoughts without disturbing your roommates. 

Thanks to the occasional jittering of a Little D doing their nightly duties, the halls of a demon lord’s castle don’t feel as haunted as you would think. The lights were dimmed but not out completely, which gave way for the moon to shine in as its own source of light. Had you been carrying a candle in a brass holder you would’ve thought you stumbled into one of those old gothic novels. You didn’t have a real destination in mind, but you made sure you remembered which room you were assigned to just in case. 

At some point during the night, you ended up in one of the lounge rooms, curled up on a couch facing the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, and looked up at all the stars. It has always been a comfort for you. You even began reading about them in an attempt to stay awake back in the human world. You thought you could recognize some of the constellations, but there are always a few stars here and there that turn it into an unrecognizable shape. At least you have new material to read about when you’re back in your room at the House of Lamentation. 

The soft calling of your name from the door broke your serene silence followed by a, “Is that you?”

A small gasp managed to escape your throat before you were able to put your hands over your mouth. You curled into yourself at first so whoever it was can’t see your head poking out from the back. After a few seconds, it finally clicked as to who it was.

Sheepishly, you stick your head out. “Hi, Barbatos.” You said, voice croaking in unexpected use. Even though it was dark and his figure obscured, you could make out that he was holding some kind of tray. “Am I not supposed to be here? I’m sorry. I’ll go back and…”

“It’s fine.” He assured you. “I heard someone walking around, so I’ve taken the liberty to brew some chamomile tea for them should they feel restless. Would you like some?”

“...”

Tea does sound nice, but the fact that it was chamomile made you hesitate. At the same time, Barbatos just made it, so it would be rude to let it go to waste.

“...That would be nice. Thank you.”

He made his way over to the other side of the couch. Part of you wanted to sit up and be proper when drinking, but even thinking about adjusting your posture makes you tired. Still, you make an effort to reach over to take the tea cup from the butler’s hands. Barbatos took this opportunity to start talking. 

“This is your first time spending the night at a castle, I presume?” You made an affirmative noise as you sipped, not wanting to point out that it’s not just any castle you’re sleeping at. “I reckon slipping in a new bed right as you got settled in would put anyone’s nerves on edge.”

You put your cup down as you replied, “I guess you can say that.” 

He looks at you quizzically. “Is something amiss? I’ll inform the Young Master right away.”

“It’s…It’s fine, Barbatos. Thanks for worrying.” You took another sip before letting out a sigh. “I’ve always had trouble sleeping, you can say. I get…these really bad nightmares that make me stay up for days on end. They were so terrifying and real…I kept wondering if I was losing my mind. I’ve tried every remedy in the book to stop them but…” You stopped to let a yawn out. “Sorry…As I was saying, I tried everything the doctors thought could help me. They even brought in a priest thinking it was ‘dream demons’ or something.” You paused, replaying the last thing you said. “Are dream demons even a thing here?”

“They are a form of lesser demons, yes.” The butler answered. “They’re relatively harmless as individual beings, but can pose a threat in large numbers or if they get close to a human.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.” You told him bitterly. 

“If it brings you any comfort, just know that they’re not powerful enough to be able to enter the human world on their own. Only certain powerful demons have the authority to travel to that realm directly. Such as the Young Master and Lucifer, for example.”

You couldn’t help but huff out air through your nose in relief. Suck on that, Pastor John. 

“...So yeah. Just before I was summoned here, they put me on a clinical trial for a medication that…reduces? Suppress? It, like, stops giving me dreams entirely, and they work. Forgot the name though. And I coincidentally ran out just before I was transferred here so…yeah.” Your eyes looked over to the butler. “Sorry I didn’t mention it earlier, I guess. I keep getting roped into whatever the brothers get themselves into that I never really had time to check on myself.”

Barbatos didn’t respond immediately. You were too busy concentrating on balancing the tea on your stomach to spare a glance over to your nighttime companion to see what kind of face he was making. Would he make one? Shouldn’t he have known of this malady when your file was being processed? Maybe, because of their biology, demons don’t worry about these kinds of conditions. You mulled around internally in a tired haze before realizing that your eyes were slowly creeping shut. With a soft sigh, you moved the plate to the nearest table and stood up slowly.

“Anyways, thanks for the tea. Compliments to the chef.” You couldn’t help but let out a big stretch followed by an even bigger yawn. “I’ll head back to bed now. No guarantee I’ll sleep though.” You let out a huff that was supposed to be your attempt at a dry laugh. “You should get some rest too. Big day ahead, y’know? See you in the morning.” And with that, you exited the room and into the dim hallway.

The small smile Barbatos had dropped as soon as your back was turned to him. It was no secret that your time as a transfer student was being hindered by your lack of sleep. Even your recent medical file was perplexing in figuring out the cause of this disorder. It’s not genetic nor was it caused by a major traumatic event. Perhaps it’s something else? You did mention dream demons, after all, albeit it was more of a speculative idea that was brought up by your doctors in order to get a man of the cloth involved. It definitely couldn’t be Belphegor’s meddling, he thinks. He wouldn’t know about the human’s arrival.

It looks like he’ll have to do some digging after this exchange party concludes. He might need to start gathering evidence now while the human is still here. Diavolo will need to get involved, there’s no doubt about that. He would do anything to ensure the health and safety of the exchange students, after all. 

~

When everyone converged for a tour around the castle, some had noted that you looked less sluggish than usual. You simply waved them off, making up an excuse about the mattress not being up to human standards. Hopefully, you didn’t offend the demon prince when you said that. 

Still, you can’t deny that you feel a little well-rested. You did remember trying a method where you close your eyes for 15 minutes, wake up for another 15, close your eyes again, rinse and repeat. You usually had an alarm for this technique, but you didn’t want to disturb Simeon or Asmodeus as much as you already did slipping in and out of bed. You didn’t think you were able to keep track, but you did somehow, give or take a few minutes. Now you can actually pay attention to that cute little demon acting as the tour guide, explaining the intricate history of all the subjects painted on these beautifully crafted portraits. You couldn’t help but smile seeing Diavolo puffing his chest in pride when the Little D started talking about his father, the current Demon King. 

(But when it was mentioned that he's been sleeping at the bottom of Devildom for millennia you couldn't help but feel jealous. The most powerful being of all the realms is casually sleeping the decades away while you don’t even get the privilege of an hour of uninterrupted rest.)

You looked at the other paintings decorating the hall. Some plaques are written in what you can only presume is some kind of archaic language that only demons would know. If you could understand at least a part of it, then maybe you can get a deeper understanding of these pictures. 

A gentle call of your name and a not-so-gentle clap on your back broke your weak concentration. You tore your eyes away to meet Diavolo’s gentle gaze. “I see that her beauty managed to draw you in?” 

You blinked, trying to process what he said. “I-I’m sorry, whose beauty? I was…too focused on figuring out what the plaque said.” You managed to blurt out, causing the prince to chuckle.

“Oh, that? It simply reads ‘The Queen of Devildom’. In other words, that’s my mother.” His gaze turned to the painting, but you stayed fixated on him. He continued by adding, “This painting and some vague memories are all I have of her. She passed away several centuries ago when I was still an infant. My father would always talk about how…” And he continued to drone on from there. It wasn’t his fault, and you were genuinely trying to cling on to every word he’s saying because it’s important to him and you wanted to leave a good impression. On the other hand, the bleariness in your eyes started to cloud your vision again as a result of your lack of sleep. So you avert your gaze back to the painting unintentionally so you can wipe it away, biting your tongue to restrain the yawn that comes with it. Part of you hopes that Diavolo thinks that you’re speechless and moved to tears.

That thought quickly vanished when you opened your eyes to the painting. 

There was a choking noise, and you almost didn’t realize it came from you. It felt like the world around you completely disappeared, and only you and Him were the only inhabitants. 

Devildom seemed to freeze over the moment you made direct eye contact with the painted eyes of your tormentor. His scarred face did nothing to hide that cocky smirk he loves to wear. He’s holding up his bloodied claw to you in a way that couldn’t be anything else but a taunting gesture, as if he knows what he’s doing to you. His other hand wrapped around the back of a bloodied woman. By the way, the painting is framed, you assumed she was supposed to be sitting. Unfortunately, you know that’s not the case here. Her head dipped back, obscuring her face from you. You assumed she was originally wearing either a white or a similar light-colored dress, but that didn’t matter as it was dyed by the blood seeping out of that four-lined wound in her chest that you knew all too well. Just the sight alone made you reach for your hip where an old wound dimly throbs at the clothed contact. 

You didn’t dare move your gaze. You needed to keep an eye on him. 

“Hey…!”

You knew it. This opportunity to fly off his radar and find a way to kill him for good while he’s not looking was too good to be true.

“...!”

How did he even get here? Did he follow you down when you got summoned? What will he-

“...!!”

Time seemed to resume the second someone grabbed onto your shoulders and turned you around. You wanted-no, needed to keep an eye on him. Sadly, you don’t have eyes on the back of your head. Instead, you were forced to look at Diavolo's worried eyes. You didn’t even let him get a word in before you began panicking. 

“What have you done?!” You yelled. You pointed to the painting behind you. “Can’t you see I’m trying to protect you!”

“Protect us from…who?”

“Him!” You pointed to the portrait.

Only the painted eyes of a woman stare back at you.

It was too late for you now. The moment you allow yourself even to think you’re away from his control, you end right back into his hands. 

Nowhere is safe, not even in hell.

A maniacal laugh fills your ears as everyone crowds around your panicked state.

[everdreamofme]

it's a boy, girl thing

Chapter 3

mattheo riddle x reader

Making her way through the halls of Hogwarts to Mattheo's classes, Y/N couldn't help but notice the reactions of her peers. They seemed to move instantly out of his path, shooting nervous glances as 'he' passed them by, almost scared of what he would do. Mattheo had always been a torment; he and his friends didn't seem to let up for anyone in the halls, and one could only wonder what suffering they inflicted within the walls of their common room.

The revelation of who exactly Mattheo's father was came at the end of the previous school year. Up until that moment, he was just another Slytherin bad boy who was somehow related to the Malfoys - Y/N had always assumed they were cousins or such; to be honest, she was never really interested. Now, the whole school was terrified he would somehow follow in his father's footsteps. But if Dumbledore trusted him enough to let him continue to be a student here, then there was no need for the student body to worry, right?

Thankfully, Y/N and Mattheo shared the majority of the same classes and had only had to endure double potions class so far, meaning they could keep an eye on each other. Luckily, they had a single lesson of charms together next. 

Y/N flopped onto the charms desk and let out a huff. Just get through the day, and you'll be fine. Feeling someone occupy the seat next to her, she turned to find her own frame, throwing her school bag onto the floor. She had planned to avoid Mattheo today, opting to spend her study periods and lunch time holed up in the library.

'What are you doing?' She hissed at him. 'We can't sit next to each other - people will think something's wrong!'

'Relax.' Mattheo rolled his eyes as Y/N stared at him, appalled. 'Your seat was already taken, had to find another.' He explained as he nodded towards the front of the classroom. Her usual seat next to Cho Chang was currently occupied by Harry Potter, and they were happily chatting away.

'Oh.'

'Jeez, take the stick out of your ass, will you?'

Y/N gasped. 'I do not have a stick up my ass!'

'Then quit acting like it!' Mattheo scoffed back.

'You know, you think you're so smart-'

'Me think I'm smart? You're the one who corrects people every sentence!'

'Well, if people used the correct grammar, then I wouldn't need-'

'Miss Y/L/N, Mr Riddle.' Professor Flitwick cleared his throat. 'Do I have your attention?' 

Y/N immediately turned from the argument to the front of the class and straightened her back. Mattheo simply rolled his eyes and slouched in his chair. 

'Of course! Apologies, Professor.' Flitwick's brows furrowed as 'Mattheo' answered attentively and 'Y/N' lounged in her seat, looking bored. The lesson continued as normal from there, with Y/N taking extremely detailed notes and Mattheo staring uninterestedly at Professor Flitwick, both ignoring each other.

As the Hogwarts bells rang to signal the end of the lesson, Y/N began to pack her parchment away into Mattheo's bag when she felt a hand clamping on her shoulder.

'Hope you've been practicing those swings Malfoy instructed; otherwise, we're both dead meat.' Turning in her seat, she found Theodore Nott waiting behind her with his own bag ready to go. Letting out a nervous chuckle, she nodded.

'Y-yeah... you bet!'

Theo's brow quirked as she made no move to stand from her table, staring wide-eyed at the boy before her. 'Okay, well, are you coming, then?'

'Uh, can I just borrow Mattheo for a moment, Theo?' Mattheo interjected, peeping over the shoulder of the 'boy' in front of him. Theo nodded and backed away slowly, shooting a confused glance at the pair before disappearing outside of the classroom.

Y/N rounded on Mattheo with panic in her eyes. 'Swings?!'

'Fuck! I forgot about quidditch practice!' He exclaimed, smacking his hand against the table.

'Riddle, what do I do?! I can't play quidditch!' She hissed.

'You're going to fucking have to!'

'I think I'm about to throw up...' She muttered after a moment. Looking up, Mattheo could see the panic across his face and he huffed.

'Alright, fine. I can come and-'

'Oh, no you don't! You have a herbology lesson!'

Mattheo screwed his face up in disgust. 'Fucking herbology?'

'Yes!'

'I'll just skip herbology.'

'No, you will not!' Y/N gasped. 'You are me, remember? Don't you dare go tarnishing my studies!'

'Fucking hell, you're so dramatic.' He rolled his eyes as she narrowed hers, jabbing a finger at his chest.

'Don't start with me, Riddle. You get to my herbology class on time, you take well-written and detailed notes, and you pass them to me immediately afterwards. Understood?'

Mattheo looked almost bored at the intimidation tactic. 'Listen here, princess; don't fuck up my quidditch practice, and I won't fuck up your herbology lesson, deal?'

'Deal.' Y/N muttered. Making their way out of the now empty charms classroom, Y/N grabbed Mattheo's arm as they reached the corridor to part ways.

'Wait! What position do you play in quidditch?'

Mattheo stared blankly back at her. 'Beater.' He said before leaving through the door.

Hiding behind a bush, Y/N waited for the Slytherin quidditch team to exit the changing rooms before making her way in. Quickly changing into some quidditch training gear, she grabbed the bat from Mattheo's locker and took a deep breath.

Get it together, Y/L/N. You can do this.

As she made her way outside, she could spot Blaise, Enzo, Adrian, and Cassius doing some flying drills in the air above. Draco and Theo stood talking near a trunk on the floor in the middle of the quidditch pitch.

'There he is!'

'Oi, where the fuck have you been?' Malfoy demanded, storming over to him as Theo crossed his arms behind the blonde boy.

'S-sorry, I got caught up after charms.' Y/N stuttered out, already feeling nervous. Malfoy merely quirked a brow before shaking his head.

'Whatever. I want you and Nott to practice those hard swings today; we need to beat those Gryffindor bastards this weekend.'

'Right.' Y/N nodded curtly and stared at Draco. When the blonde boy pulled a confused face and mounted his broom, Y/N knew there were no further instructions to be heard.

'I'll get them then, shall I?' She heard Theo ask from behind her. Turning around, she saw Theo had made his way over to the trunk in the field and began to unbuckle the clasps. Releasing the practice snitch, she watched as Draco began to speed around the pitch after it.

'Matt, you ready?' When Y/N didn't answer, still engrossed in watching the other players zoom about above her, Theo shouted again. 'Mattheo!'

'Wha-what? Oh, yes! I'm ready!' She responded, giving the bat a small wave for good measure.

Theo furrowed his brows. 'Are you going to mount your broom, then?'

Looking down at the fancy broom on the ground, Y/N gulped. 'I thought, maybe... since we're trying new swings and all... maybe we could practice on-on the ground today? Maybe?'

Hopefully that makes some sense... She thought to herself.

'Are you alright?' Theo asked, standing from his crouching position near the trunk. She forced a smile and a nod, confusing the boy in front of her further.

'Uh, okay... We can practice grounded. You can explain that one to Draco later.'

Theo released the two aggressive balls from their buckles, and they instantly flew upwards. Theo impressively swung his bat and hit one far across the quidditch field as Y/N gaped in awe, unaware of the bludger hurling towards her. Noticing with a split second to spare, she let out a squeak and dove to the ground. 

'Matt, what the hell are you doing?' Theo shouted, beginning to make his way over to where Y/N was. Standing abruptly, she straightened the quidditch uniform, brushing off pieces of grass.

'I, uh, noticed the ball too late.'

'That's what your bat's for—you do know that, right? Being on the team for over a year?'

Y/N didn't have time to respond. Instead, she stared with wide eyes as the same bludger from before came flying back towards her, hitting her square in the stomach and completely winding her. Falling to all fours, she coughed and spluttered as she tried to catch her breath, her stomach in absolute agony.

'What the fuck!' She had heard someone shout. Theo had his wand out in an instant, casting 'arresto momentum' on the balls and making his way over to Y/N.

'What the fuck are you doing?!' Y/N spotted another pair of boots stomping into her view.

Great, Malfoy.

'Why didn't you use your fucking bat?!' He seethed. Y/N couldn't answer, still wheezing for breath.

'Malfoy, take it easy-' Theo began before Draco interrupted, fuming about how if the team wasn't in top shape by the weekend, then they had no chance of beating the Gryffindors, and if that was to be the case, they should just give up now.

Once some oxygen had returned to her lungs, she stood and faced Draco, who looked pissed. Oh, Rowena, save me.

'What the bloody hell are you playing at Mattheo?!'

'Malfoy, it's fine; it's just quidditch. Don't you have any other aspirations in life you ought to be focusing on, rather than a silly wizarding sport?' At this, Theo and Draco shared a strange glance as Blaise, Enzo, Adrian, and Cassius landed their brooms near.

'What's wrong?' Enzo shouted over.

'He's lost the fucking plot,' Draco mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face.

'Alright,' Blaise interjected, clapping his hands together. 'How about we practice some of those fitness routines you planned out last week? Yeah, Draco?' Malfoy seemed satisfied with Blaise's attempt to diffuse the situation and conjured the training board, beginning to explain the training.

When Draco finally announced that practice was over and the team could hit the showers, Y/N thought she might actually kiss him. Practice had gone terribly; she had been knocked over, she had slipped in the mud when doing laps, and she wouldn't even begin to tell you how embarrassed she had been when Draco had instructed them to do pull-ups on their brooms.

Entering the changing rooms, she averted her gaze to the ceiling so as not to see more than she bargained for with the Slytherin quidditch team, until someone clicked their fingers in front of her face, bringing her attention towards them.

'What the fuck were you doing out there, Mattheo? You played like a damn muggle!' Draco seethed.

'I-I'm sorry, I'm feeling a little peaky.'

Draco blinked back at her. 'Peaky?'

'Yeah, it means off-colour,' She explained.

'I know what peaky means!' He shouted, making Adrian grimace in the background. 

'Now you listen here, and you listen good. You know the importance of winning this weekend's match, so you'd better get your shit together before then because, Salazar, help me; if you don't, you'll be hearing about the game from the fucking hospital wing!' Y/N rapidly blinked the tears forming in her waterline away as Draco stomped into the showers. 

Do not let these boys see you cry, especially not in Riddle's body; he will kill me!

'Don't worry, dude,' Someone patted her on the shoulder, 'You know what he gets like when we play against Potter; don't take it personal.'

Turning, she came face to face with a very naked Blaise. Sucking in a breath, her eyes shot back to the ceiling as he continued to talk to her. 'You just hit a slump today, no biggie. Probably still feeling a little off from last night's headache, right? I am surprised you didn't argue back with Draco, though. Good for you for not lashing out this time.'

Y/N managed to force out a grin when Blaise patted her on the back once more and made way for the showers. She huffed, letting her head hit the lockers.

I have never been happier for the school day to come to an end.

After showering (ew!) and changing clothes, Y/N made her way to dinner. As she was about to enter the great hall, she felt someone pull her back by her arm.

'Hey! I heard about quidditch practice.' Mattheo said, a look of annoyance across her features.

'Yeah, that game is really rough! I'm covered in bruises.'

'I don't care about your bruises!'

'Well, you don't have to be so rud—oh my gosh!'

Mattheo's brows furrowed in confusion. 'What?'

'Sh!' She hissed.

'No, what's the problem?' 

'Cormac is heading this way!' She whispered to Mattheo, trying to hide her face behind her hand.

'Okay, and? Wait, don't tell me you've got a crush on fucking McLaggen.' Mattheo pulled a face as the boy approached.

'Talk to him.' She whispered.

'No.' He crossed his arms as he looked the Gryffindor boy up and down.

'Be nice!'

'No!'

'Do it or I'll quit the Quidditch team.' She hissed back at him.

'Y/N, hi. How are you today?' Cormac said, reaching the two with a bright smile.

'Alright.' Mattheo shurgged, staring up at the boy.

'Oh, sorry. Am I interrupting something?' He asked, his eyes shooting at who he thought was Mattheo.

'Not at all!' Y/N answered. 'I was just asking Y/N here if I could have some help with school work, considering she is one of the brightest witches in our year.'

'That she is,' Cormac laughed, looking back at the girl before him. 'Can I have a quick word, Y/N?'

'Of course you can! Please, excuse me.' Y/N said, backing away from the two, mouthing a 'be nice' to Mattheo behind Cormac's back and making him roll his eyes.

'What do you want?' Mattheo asked, crossing his arms.

'Uh, right. I was just wondering, did you get a chance to look over that herbology essay for me?' He asked, taking a step closer to Mattheo. Mattheo pulled a face and took a step back from the boy.

'What essay?'

'You know, the one you said you would be able to give me a hand with? It's just, it's due pretty soon, so I kind of need it...' He trailed off, staring at the girl before him, who frowned. 'Have... have you managed to-'

'Not yet.' Mattheo cut the boy off and turned swiftly on his heel, making his way into the great hall and leaving the Gryffindor boy confused in the hallway.

What a dick.

As Mattheo swung the door open, ready to finally devour some food, his view was immediately obstructed by a Slytherin tie. Rolling his eyes, he looked up at the figure before him.

'Yes?'

'What did Cormac say?' Y/N asked in a whisper.

'He was just going on about some herbology essay.' This made Y/N's eyes widen.

'Oh my gosh, his assignment! I completely forgot about it!' She gasped, snatching her bag from Mattheo's shoulder and beginning to rummage through the contents.

Mattheo furrowed his brows as he grabbed her wrist to stop her frantic searching. 'Hang on—you didn't agree to do his fucking homework, did you?'

'I-I just offered him some help; he's always so busy with Quidditch-'

'Busy with Quidditch?' He repeated. 'He's a bloody reserve!'

'Yeah... But if I helped with his assignments, then he would have way more time to put into practicing!' She defended, making Mattheo pull a face again.

'Seriously?'

'Stop judging me, Riddle!' Y/N snapped. 'Eat your dinner, then head straight back to my dorm; you better pray that we wake up in our own bodies tomorrow morning!' That was the last Mattheo saw of her as she stormed away that fine Tuesday evening.

i actually hate this so chapter much omg

taglist;

@xxrougefangxx @lovelyygirl8 @mayamonroem @bxcndd @dracoslovergirl @helendeath

[jemichi90]

okay OP, in your recent art you mentioned that "you will explain if needed" and gave a detailed explanation of what might have happened (to Charlie and Maxwell).

I'd LOVE to hear more of your thoughts, and the "explanation" that you said you'd provide (⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

ps i really like your art.

Oh! Hello there! 👀

And yes indeed I did. Alright then, get ready for the brainrot. xD

For a long time I've thought that Charlie died and came back wrong, and in the recent updates there have been several things hinting at it.

Here is a list of the ones I can remember right now:

Maxwell says ”There's a story behind that...” when inspecting a touch stone.

After the recent update, the ”dark side” Winona can sense traces of Charlie on the touch stone, confirming it's related to her (the quotes vary).

In the Encore animated short, there is a brief flashback of Charlie with the Ancient Fuelweaver behind her, and then her Chess piece is seen falling and sinking inside a black square on the board - some heavy symbolism there, sparing us from the gory details, I guess...

In Charlie's stageplay, the doll that represents her breaks, but she's brought back to life by the Mirror (Them?) - alive but different, as she says.

And then there are things that fall more into the headcanon territory, until more evidence comes up that either proves or debunks those ideas entirely, but I'll explain those as well, since they heavily influece my art inspiration.

I subscribe to the idea that the two characters in the ancient murals represent Maxwell and Charlie themselves in their early years in the Constant (but depicted by the locals that were unfamiliar with human anatomy). Time moves differently in that world so it could have been thousands of years ago, but the two made contact with the locals and briefly improved their life through the use of Their magic – until it backfired and the entity that must have been sealed for a reason broke free. Assuming the character with the torch really is Charlie, she died protecting Maxwell from the consequences of his own mistakes. In the final mural image, only her cracked head can be seen.

Another headcanon I have comes from the fact that one of shadow Charlie's arms seems to be entirely made of shadows (curiously, there are also arm bones attached to the touch stone, although they could have belonged to a pigman too, like the heads), so I think that whatever happened to her basically shattered her to pieces, and some pieces may still be missing - like that arm. But details like this are only a headcanon for now.

This also falls in the time period between 1906 and 1910-ish, when apparently some crazy stuff happened that Klei hasn't showed us much about – yet (according to their own post some years ago). ^^

So based on all this, my idea is that Maxwell summoned the Fuelweaver (as seen in the murals), but he messed up big time and Charlie got caught in the crossfire trying to protect Maxwell. She died a gruesome death (that may have torn her to pieces even more brutally than in my drawing). Maxwell in his desperation made the touch stone in a hurry (which is why it looks so rough compared to all his other constructs), carried what was left of Charlie there, and made a deal with Them to bring Charlie back to life no matter the cost. And they did. They just didn't bring her back exactly like she used to be, and she would probably fall to pieces and die instantly if she was separated from the entity that she now shares the body with...

I think Maxwell had been able to move freely in the Constant (maybe even out of it, based on his disappearances earlier) until then, but deals like that come with a price, so he lost his freedom and became Their tool (sold his soul to save Charlie?). Or something like that anyway.

There are also the parallels between Charlie and Abigail with their connection to their special flowers, as highlighted in the newest animated video. Charlie just might be another ghost inside a flower herself, but thanks to Them, she got to keep her body, or at least a form that resembles her body.. But I prefer to think that her actual broken body is still a part of the deal, as messed up as that is. We already know that They can keep a body that should have died a long time ago alive for an eternity, thanks to Maxwell. When he was released from the Nightmare Throne and time caught up to him, he didn't just die, he turned to a skeleton that crumbled to dust in an instant..! That's some old corpse, but he'd been conscious all that time because They wouldn't let him die.

So yeah, these happy thoughts inspired that piece. I might draw more about that if I still feel like it later. :D

[nebelexe]

hello, my name is Nebel, i‘m 18 and i‘ve had enough. Let’s become closer. tw selfharm

For the last three years, I’ve dreamed of disappearing. Not to be unal!ved, but to painlessly, tearlessly erase myself from the script of this universe, so no one would know me or even realize I was gone. I sleep a lot and play games to escape reality. I’ve been running from myself my whole life; I’m not unique, and my personality has always been built on someone else’s. I’m mimicry.

Until recently, I was a good, saintly girl: no smoking, no alcohol, or God forbid, drugs. At the same time, I was "imitating" Till Lindemann. If you don’t know who that is, I’m happy for you. At some point, that imitation turned into obsession. I convinced myself he was a deity, no jokes, he’s God, and "In Stillen Nächten" is the Bible. That was a time of projecting his philosophy onto myself. My main association with Lindemann is pain. Different kinds of pain.

Selfharm became my way of proving I wasn’t just someone’s imagination but a living person. I needed to see blood to know I was still here. Once, I cut all the skin over my ribs; on my shoulders are copies of Till’s scars, less obvious, but they’re there. On my thigh, there is a line from his song “Dann hab ich dich getroffen, mein Leben ist jetzt perfekt!”, cut with a blade.

That whole period was foggy and depressive. It was winter. I was lonely, barely talking to anyone. In January 2024, I left my friend group because I was convinced they didn’t love me and that I was just an extra. That belief came from a lot of factors, and I still sometimes think they talk badly about me.

I have a plushie of Till. He’s endured so many of my tears. I sewed him myself, and inside him is a heart, a plush heart, stained with my blood and sewn with bloody thread. I have a few drawings made with my own blood. It’s some kind of addiction, don’t you think? Needing to see that crimson liquid.

I completely stopped crying and talking about my problems. I disappeared into myself.

Once, my mom accidentally saw my cuts and told me to stop. And I did. I don’t remember what happened after that.

Then came August 2024, Feeling B. My mind started clearing when I shifted from Till to Paul Landers and Aljoscha Rompe. For two months, I was stable. Until October 2024, when I found out who Ace Frehley is. He wasn’t my favorite from the start, he chose me. I’d go to bed, planning to think about my own universes, but I couldn’t. Ace’s face was in my head, mirroring all my emotions. What could I do? I accepted it. Now, Ace is my addiction. And what was Ace himself addicted to? Alcohol. I’d always had a negative view of drinking because, unfortunately, I know where it leads. But… something went wrong. Since then, I’ve been drinking beer every weekend. Every. Single. One. Yesterday, I drank way too much. So much that when I woke up this morning, I was still drunk. I don’t remember anything from last night. That’s a first for me.

I'm afraid of what might come next. I'm lost again, and I'm afraid of myself. right now I can taste the ethanol and I feel sick. It's hard to explain, I hope it's a dream.

I’m predisposed to alcoholism, and I want to end this before it gets worse. I’m writing this post so I don’t back down or give up. I need witnesses, and my followers here are way more comfortable for me than anywhere else. Thank you.

[valy-gc]

I wish I could participate to artfight but unfortunately I can't. You'll find the explanation under the cut, because it's pretty long.

But then, I will do my own, kind of. I wish I could do my own site and my own "artfight" I do even have a name, but I don't have any skills about making a site or anything.

So instead, please put a comment under here if you want an "attack" from me. You don't have to "attack" back since it will not give you any points on artfight. But if you want to, then take a look at my characters from LoWR, my TWST OCs or my fairytales characters.

It will be only during July, for the time of artfight.

I really loved artfight... I still love it... I invited a lot of friend to participate and I still do...

And I suddenly been banned after 3 years, because one (brand new at this moment but big contributor...) person can't just read descriptions and stop at one word. Or maybe they just didn't liked me for some reasons and decided to take any reason to have me banned

Because I indicated my story as an "omegaverse" and they immediately assumed my story was NSFW, while it's not, there is not a single mention of anything sexual in the story. And since most characters are 16 (well in a world with 16 months of 30 or 35 days each, it would correspond to 21 actually, which was explained...) they have accused me of sexualizing minors... while, I say it again, there is NOTHING sexual in this story.

Litterally nothing. Yeah I made the error to explain details about the world building (yeah sorry to be a writer and like to share when I create a whole world!) and to mention the first heat are at 16. Exept that, heats in this world is more similar to our periods. They just feel sick and weak. Nothing more, and I also explained this. But no, for the person who reported me, that was sexual and there was no discussion, no verifications, I just been immediately banned. (so be careful people, apparently saying you have your period is sexual!)

The context is an "omegaverse", because it happens in a world where women disappeared and evolution took over and "alpha" and "omega" genders appeared. That's all...

Also, like I said I was there for 3 years... and with the same characters and the same story. And never had any problem. Got a lot of attacks, got a lot of peoples who actually read my descriptions and loved the story. And then there is this person who got me banned the actual year when they register into artfight...

For two years I sent appeals, even tried with different mails since I started to wonder if they blocked me. Did I got an answer? Nope. Nothing. Not a single answer. Never.

One of my friends tried to ask directly on the discord servor. Either have been ignored or her messages have been completely deleted. Oh yeah, let's not expose the bad side, right? Oh she also got threatened of being banned just because she asked... also, telling her I have to ask directly.... but I've been f******** banned I can't contact anyone so how I'm supposed to ask directly???

She got one answer from a mod the year after my bann. The mod understood, confirmed, with my story lore and explanation, that the bann was unfair, and said she will pass the message but since I made appeals and a deletion request (because I wanted to start over), I could make another account, no problem.

After two week with this new account I have been banned for ban evasion... while a MOD said it was ok? And guess what? No answer again, OF COURSE.

In the same time, the person who reported me made a huge scandal on the site (my friends still in artfight keep me in touch) because of a disgusting mass attack that offended peoples, got a lot and lot of complaint and now 3 years after people are still talking about it, and she's actually still there, ah but she's a big contributor so of course they'll not bann her, right?

Oh not to mention the other person who litterally suicide baiting me on my profil, have been reported multiple time by me and my friends, but is actually still on, not banned, without even participating.

While I still don't have any answer, ever.

Last years, after I changed my artstyle just to improve, some friends insisted again and again that I try again while passing for a new person and I did but apparently I've been recognized. I knew it couldn't work, but my friends want to play with me, I had to stop them from making a petition.

Then finally after 4 years, I got an answer. Just "your appeal is denied don't send another appeal" that's all. No discussion. No explanation. Certainly too proud to recognize they're wrong. Too vexed to be called out about the way they privilege the contributors.

I just want to have fun again. That was a great way to improve my drawing, force my self to draw things I never usually draw... and I met a lot of cool peoples there too actually.

[dontyoutrytocalmmedown]

How Alexandra Savior fought for her own return: “I’m just going to do exactly what feels right

by Lucy Harbron

For her fans, the long-awaited return of songwriting talent Alexandra Savior after five years was incredibly exciting news. For the artist herself, though, “Honestly, it’s been a little anticlimactic.” But isn’t that how it always goes? When you want something so bad and have been working towards it for so long, it’s always strange when it actually happens.

In the moments after a dream is realised, there is always an odd, almost empty feeling where you sit back and think, ‘Oh, that’s that then.’ Especially if that dream has been building and building quietly in private, the moment you reveal it to the public as something so tender and hard-earned, there is always bound to be some weirdness.

Savior has been stewing in that weirdness for a long time now. The last time the world heard from Savior, from the outside, it probably looked like an artist riding high. Released through Columbia and helped by Alex Turner, with whom Savior also wrote for his The Last Shadow Puppets project, her 2017 debut Belladonna of Sadness instantly shot her to notoriety. To her fans, 2020’s The Archer probably looked like a continuation of that success, gaining major critical acclaim. But, by that point, Savior had been dropped by her major label, and when it comes to financing what she wanted to do next, a small indie label can never be much help.

When we talk about the injustice of money in the music industry, this is exactly what we mean. Savior, with her talent, renown, and hundreds and thousands of monthly Spotify streams, should be earning a livable wage and enough to continue pushing forward with her career. But, as we know, that is not the case. Pair that with Covid-19, which greatly impacted Savior and her health, and what you have is a grinding halt that no one, neither Savior nor her fans, expected. The rest of her tour was cancelled; she seemed to disappear.

Yet still, what seemed like radio silence from the outside was a busy creative period for the artist. The album that she’s sitting on and is now finally beginning to offer to the world has been in existence for almost all of that gap. The weirdness came in the waiting around and in the new way that Savior had to adapt to making music. With both of her other albums, the process was typical—she wrote, then she went into the studio and worked consistently until it was done. But with the circumstances surrounding this third project, that couldn’t happen.(Credits: Far Out / Angela Ricciardi)

“It drove me crazy at first, for sure,” she said, describing the painstakingly slow process. “I was writing for a year, and then we went into the studio in 2021,” with that already bringing up its own delays due to the band needing masks, clearing Covid-19 tests and careful health protection. However, there was one issue, more than most, that caused an incredibly stop-start way of working.

“I recorded it in fragments because I didn’t have a label,” she said. “It’s expensive to have a band and go into the recording studios. So we would go in for like four days, and then six months would go by. And then we would go in for four days, and then eight months would go by.”

When she told me this, my immediate response was—how on Earth do you keep a hold on your vision and what it is you’re trying to do when the world keeps stopping you like that? But for Savior, that was a strangely beneficial element, forcing her to realise what she needed to focus on. “I had made some mistakes in the past where I would not follow my instinct, and then that is always what leads me to feel, maybe some, I don’t want to say regret, but, you know, I think that is what leads to inconsistencies,” she explained. This time around, having to already endure a tricky creative context, a lesson was learnt: “The consistency is me. For this record, I was just like, I’m just going to do exactly what feels right.”

But again, the world threw Savior another curve ball. Despite her masses of fans who were awaiting her return to music, this rotten industry failed her, as it does so many. She knew she needed two more songs for the album—two singles that she could pitch to labels and try to get herself some backing. But, funds had run out. “I had absolutely no money. I was on food stamps and like was, you know, not able to pay rent, and it was a really difficult time, so we couldn’t pay for musicians. So Drew Erickson, who produced the record, he played everything.”

You’d never guess, but ‘Unforgivable’ is one of those songs, standing as testament to Savior’s talent and having the benefit of incredible collaborators and the strength that comes when an artist is determined to make it work no matter what. The fact that ‘Unforgiveable’ is so polished and gorgeous while made on an invisible budget is all the proof you need that artists will move mountains to realise their art, even though they shouldn’t have to.

Through the struggle of it, a silver lining came. It would be easy to now present RCA, Savior’s new label who signed her off the back of ‘Unforgivable’ and the rest of her record, as a knight in shining armour as they are finally backing her to put out their long-time-coming release. But really, the only hero here is Savior, who battled her way through waves of a pandemic, health issues, money issues, industry failures and more to make a return. And while she might feel it as “anticlimactic” right now, what it really is is a triumph of artistic spirit and a true victory.

[frodo-with-glasses]

Where have you been?

Uhhh, France?

(That’s a Hamilton reference, btw. I have never been to France.)

So! Another Hobbit Day is upon us. On this day last year, I’d promised you all that we would take another trek through LotR, with all new drawings and poems and fanfics. I fully expected to be finished with Book One by now, at least halfway through FotR. What actually happened is that the blog struggled through the first five and a half chapters of the book before suddenly going radio silent.

So what happened?

Well, as you might expect, real life happened. I won't go into the details here—since it has nothing to do with LotR—but I can explain in DMs if anyone is interested.

Basically, a change in my family led to a reexamination of what I thought I knew about my family, which led to a reexamination of what I thought I knew about myself, which kicked off an intense period of self-improvement.

Over the course of this past year, I began to unpack my family's abuse; I learned about boundaries; I started to unlearn my old people-pleasing tendencies; I reconnected relationships that were broken, reevaluated ones that were in the wrong place, and cut off ones that weren't good for me. I discovered there was a little kid in my head who's been waiting years and years for an adult to love her, and to take her needs seriously, and I finally have the chance to be that adult. And I'm happy to say that I've come to a place where I feel safer in my own head than I have ever been.

Probably very little of that is going to show through on this blog. It's all inward stuff; foundational stuff. But one thing that might affect you guys is that I left my (dreadfully overstimulating and stressful) part-time job, and I'm now working full time somewhere else. As much as I love what I do for a living now, working 40 hours a week does mean that I am become Boring Adult who does not have as much time for interneting. With my current schedule, there is no way I'd be able to sustain the intense schedule of "must post one drawing a day" that I had in the early days of this blog; and I don't expect myself to.

But! I would like to—slowly—get this train rolling again.

I find it hilariously apropos that the last piece of art I posted on this blog was of Frodo suddenly disappearing. From Merry's perspective, he completely vanished without explanation or warning. From your perspective, so did I.

But I find myself here again, on another September 22nd, and once again I'm beginning to feel that pull; that pull to read, and draw, and create, and share, and laugh with all of you. Life has calmed down enough for me that I once again have the mental space to think about pursuing my hobbies. There are so many things I want to do—so much to do with the time that is given to me. And I want this blog to be on that list.

My current goal is to post some new book art every other day. If that's too much, I'll adjust it. But if I find my groove and really get into it, who knows? We might return to your regularly scheduled Daily Dose of Frodo-With-Glasses. We shall have to see.

Anyway. If you've read this far, thank you! If you've stuck with this blog since the early days, thank you. And if you are one of that lovely core Fellowship that has had my back and prayed for me all along, I cannot thank you enough.

This past year has been an absolute ride. Not as difficult as a trek to Mordor, maybe, but not easy either. But no matter where I walked, I knew I didn't have to take the journey alone.

Anyway! Enough sappiness. Happy Hobbit Day! I'm excited to see what the next year has in store for us. 💚

[mortallychaotickingdom]

I don't even know how to begin since with this post I don't want to fish for sympathy in order to excuse my umpteenth disappearence but rather explain what happened behind the scenes.

In short, it was another long and frustrating period of crisis, both as a person and as an artist; I constantly felt overwhelmed by everything and struggled to focus and deal even with the most basic tasks. With the advent of the New Year I decided to seek for help since I was tired of just surviving. After some research and a couple of impulsive decisions I signed up for a program to receive an ADHD diagnosis. I don't even know what I was expecting from that, I believe that I was just seeking for answers and someone who would tell me that I was not beyond repair. The whole process was quite long and and hearing that I could have been diagnosed as a child if my parents weren't careless idiots made me feel quite remoreseful but at the same time I want to focus on the present rather than on the past.

So yeah, in the end, I got formally diagnosed with ADHD with some discreetly high possibility of being AuDHD (but for now I can't afford to get a proper diagnosis for that as well sigh…). It was definitely an interesting rollercoster of emotions; going through grief, relief and frustration for having spent most of my life feeling broken, misunderstood and unworthy. Having an answer did not repair all the pain and feeling of inadequacy I have felt for my whole life but it had certainly helped me to know myself better and now I feel rather silly for always forcing myself into a mold I couldn't fit in when all I had to do was to change the mold to better fit myself.

Now things are already going better since I am slowly learning to base my expectations on my needs and necessities rather than on pleasing others; the path is still long but I am proud to say that I'm making great progress! I am not sure if I'll be back or not for now since the idea of being on socials still feel very scary and overwheling but I just wanted to let you know that I am still alive and actively working to improve my quality of life thanks to these new information.

Thank you so much for your patience if you managed to read this messy wall of text and I wish you a wonderful day!💕

[1virginiastreet]

punisher through the eyes of blair and brown — a lyric analysis

really a very important comparison to me, the things i deem most important are highlighted in red!

“when the speed kicks in i go to the store for nothing” the fabrication of false conflicts, used as an excuse to actually talk to each other

“and walk right by the house where you lived with snow white. i wonder if she ever thought the storybook tiles on the roof were too much,” the element of speculation and fantasy here mimics the psychological warfare that was embedded in the blair-brown relationship. never sure of what the other is thinking, but all too eager to imagine.

“but from the window, it’s not a bad show,” ie the separation between tbgb, constantly maintaining distance between their personal lives, and not letting the other too close. thinking here especially about how tony didn’t go to gordon’s wedding.

“if your favourite thing’s dianetics or stucco” parallels w tony’s catholicism to be drawn here.

“the drugstores are open all night, the only real reason I moved to the east side, i love a good place to hide in plain sight” brown being famously stubborn when it came to ignoring tony when times were difficult. that one quote about newlab knowing when things in government were bad because gordon would disappear, reappearing when things were better. hiding in plain sight ie tbgb using the professional relationship as a veneer for their deeply fractured emotional dynamic.

“what if I told you” the what if is crucial here, because they never properly talked!! aaaah!!!!

“i feel like I know you? but we never met” time warping both their relationship and each other, making tbgb both painfully familiar and unrecognisable to one another at the same time.

“and here, everyone knows you're the way to my heart” gossipy observer columns speculating on their personal affairs

“hear so many stories of you at the bar” tbgb having to hear about what one another is up to post-2007 through third parties, the relationship is so broken they can’t speak directly.

“most times, alone, and some, looking your worst” loneliness of being such a powerful presence like blair!

“but never not sweet to the trust funds and punishers” do i even need to explain this one

“man, i wish that i could say the same” gordon doesn’t enjoy the luxury of a good reputation in the same way tony does, he spends half of his time nowadays endlessly justifying his own record whilst blair gets to forget his mistakes.

“i swear i’m not angry, that's just my face” oh i may start to cry here. this is about gb, thinking about the clips of him sitting during cabinet meetings just totally listless, with a face like thunder. and him deep down regretting antagonising tb so much, but unable to break the pattern of doing so after all these years.

“a copycat killer with a chemical cut.” u guys know that one tb memo which is basically saying ‘gordon brown killed new labour’? yeah.

“either i’m careless or i wanna get caught” do you think that gordon got a sense of satisfaction from slowly purging new labour of its blairisms post-2010? unable to kill the man, he killed his ideas instead

“i can't open my mouth and forget how to talk,” reflecting just how deeply-rooted the tbgb tension was — neither tony nor gordon can even reflect on that period of their lives without the interpersonal dynamic shaping the narrative

“cause even if I could, wouldn't know where to start” gordon reflecting very little on the emotional and personal aspects of his relationship w tony in his post-power books

“wouldnt know when to stop.” vs tony writing pages and pages about him and gordon.