#i am always so late to these thing so it has been probably done already

[atinylittlepain]

Little Pinch

nurse!marcus pike x f!reader

she needs to get bloodwork done. one small problem, getting bloodwork done never goes well for her, especially not when she's distracted by the very kind, very handsome nurse doing it.

wordcount | 3.3K

content info | 18+ discussions of getting bloodwork that includes needles, fainting, nausea, mostly fluff, nurse marcus to the rescue, this is just a fun time, also an un-beta'd time so like, be nice pls

a/n | shoutout to the girls (gn) that pass out every time they get blood work done (me). I have to get new labs tomorrow morning, and writing this is how I coped with that prospect :') this one is for the fainters, the thin veiners, the "just do it in my hand"-ers - i see you, i am you, gawd bless

..........................................................................

Here’s the thing, this never goes well. It wasn’t always like this though. She has a vague memory of being a kid and taking it like a perfect champ, testing for mono after a rash of cases at school. But then, well, something changed. 

It runs in her family. Thin veins that are hard for even the best nurses to find, lots of oh, I just lost it, and well, let’s try your other arm, and always, ultimately, hands? Should we try the hands? No, the nurses never listen when she tells them to just start with the hands, and without fail, somewhere around the third or fourth time they try to get the needle in, a cold sweat breaks, and the room starts to filter through a fuzzy pinhole of vision. It’s embarrassing, she thinks, because, really, she has no problem with needles. Can watch it go in, no issues with piercings, et cetera, et cetera, but getting blood drawn? Yeah, forget about it. She usually comes to with paperwork around her feet that she had been holding, and a well-meaning nurse pressing a damp paper towel to her forehead and breathing the remnants of her lunch over her face and alright, hon? Usually a box of apple juice and an escort out to her car to make sure she doesn’t go offline again. 

The other thing is, unfortunately, she’s pretty sure her little fainting, fading thing has gotten worse over the years. A conditioned response, she thinks, that cold sweat starts the second she walks into the waiting room, already anticipating what comes next. And today, well, even worse than some of the others. Twelve hours fasted, and no, that certainly won’t help her case, no matter how much water she downed before she came here, no matter how tight she squeezes her fist in the hopes of pumping even one vein up enough to be tenable. She looks at the woman sitting across from her in the waiting room, reading a back-ordered issue of Cosmo, flipping and flippant and really, why can’t she be like that? Why can’t she be normal like that? Instead, her heel is doing a frantic tap, whole leg jerking with it, and everytime she checks her watch she feels her heart creep a little further up into her throat. 

If she’s being honest, she thought about canceling her labs. No, doc, all good, doc, don’t need to know, doc. And then a friend pointed out, frustratingly, that avoidance is only going to make it worse. Right, so, right, so right, so, here she is. And here’s the nurse opening the door and right, calling her name, and it’s a man nurse, male nurse, though she’s pretty sure she’s not being PC by making that specification in her mind because really, twenty-first century, and really, anyone can be a nurse. But not anyone, right? Lots of schooling, right? Right. She realizes a bit too late that she hadn’t responded to the nurse calling her name, jerking up out of her chair and trying for a smile that she thinks probably looks more like constipation. And that’s just great because now man nurse, sorry, just nurse, probably thinks she’s constipated and she’d rather not have the, actually, very handsome, just nurse, thinking that on top of whatever she’s got going on that necessitates lab work she also can’t take a shit. Right. 

“We’re going to be in this room right here.” Handsome just nurse has a nice voice too, deep but kind, and a strong jawline, and a patchy beard but she likes that it’s patchy, and he’s tan and he’s got one of those big watches that tells you how hard your heart was beating on your run and he probably runs in the afternoon after clocking out of the needle-in-arms gig and that’s probably why he’s so tan, probably has a golden retriever who runs with him too, because he looks like a golden retriever guy, dark flop of wavy hair and that smile and oh, oh, he just asked her a question and now she’s supposed to answer it. 

“I’m sorry, could you say that again?” He smiles, nods, being nice, at least, about her whole scared prey animal situation. She presses her palm down hard on her knee to keep it from bouncing any more. 

“It says on this order that these labs need to be taken fasted. Can you confirm to me that you haven’t had anything to eat or drink besides water in the last twelve hours?” Oh yes, yep, she can confirm that for you, Marcus, his name is Marcus, says so on his little lanyard badge. Thanks for the easy one, Marcus, pitch right down the middle, Marcus, with your nice smile and your clipboard and your, well, needles and tubes. But before he can get started with his, well, needles and tubes, she makes a strangled, sort of despondent sound because in situations like these, she comes with a warning label. 

“I should let you know I have, um, bad veins? Honestly, you can just start with my hands, I don’t mind it. And also, I’m a fainter, yeah, so, it happens every time, just so you know.” And usually, usually, her spiel is given very little notice, mmmokay, hon. Sure, they’ll lay her back, how merciful, so she doesn’t crack her skull open on the way out of conscious orbit. That’s about it, though. But this time, she thinks, might just be different.

“Okay, thank you for giving me the heads up. If you’re sure you’re alright with starting with the hands then it’s fine by me to get it done that way.” So, so fine, Marcus, and maybe, just maybe, she thinks she might not pass out this time. He sets the exam table at a reclined angle and she wills her rigid spine to settle against it, trying to find the balance between breathing so deeply she starts to get light headed, and not breathing at all. In case you were wondering, yes, she is on medication for anxiety, it just doesn’t seem to presently be working. 

“Just gonna feel around a bit here for a good one.” She only feels a little insane for the kick and clench in her heart when he takes her one hand in both of his, because he’s just palpating the back of her hand to find, as he said, a good one. Yes, the word for it is palpating, and there is certainly nothing romantic nor, hello, sexual about anything that’s called palpating. But, hey, taking wins where she can get them, and even through the latex gloves, his hands are warm and big and very know what they’re doing about the whole thing. And she’s no expert, obviously, but he’s got a very nice, very visible vein in his forearm, and she bets phlebotomists love him, bets that when he gets blood drawn, he’s in and out no problem, bets that even she could draw blood from him. Nope, nothing sexual about that, nothing weird about that, right? Right. Nothing sexual either, when he ties off the tight band around her arm and she watches his one bicep flex a little with the effort. 

“I can count you down, or you can look away and I’ll just get it done, whichever you prefer.”

“Uh, no preference, I’ll just look away and you can do whatever you want to me.” Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. She realizes exactly what she just said a bit too late, him, Marcus, nice nurse Marcus, letting out a laugh that fizzles out into a cough. Great, now she’s made her fucking phlebotomist uncomfortable, possibly one of the last people you want to make uncomfortable. But if that, whatever that was, lingers, he doesn’t show it, already swiping an antiseptic wipe over the back of her hand and pulling his little cart of tubes closer to himself. And she knows this part, she’s good at this part, letting her eyes sweep up and to the right, because he’s on her left, and willing whatever vein he decided is a good one to stay a good one. Little pinch, little prayer, she lets out a held breath when he says a quiet alright and keeps the needle exactly where it is. Hallelujah.

“This might take a little longer, just because we’re drawing from your hand.”

“I’ll bleed as fast as I can then.” At the very least, he laughs, even though she wishes she had kept that one to herself. 

“Do you live around here?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Sorry, I’m trying to distract you.” 

“Didn’t they teach you how to do that in like, phlebotomy school?” She still has her eyes turned up and away, only a little wince when he switches out one tube for another. He hums at her question.

“Not really, I could ask you about the weather, is that better?” 

“It’s cloudy. Not much of a conversation starter.” 

“Well, why don’t you ask me something, since you’re such an expert on starting conversations.”

“Do you have a golden retriever?”

“What?”

“Sorry, you just, you look like the kind of guy who’d have a golden retriever.” Another tube clicks into place, but she’s not paying any attention to that now. 

“Uh, no, no golden retriever. I do however have a very old, very deaf pit mix named Lucille.” Goddamnit, somehow that’s hotter than the golden retriever. 

“Great name.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. She came with it when I adopted her.” God. Fucking. Damn it. What next, is he a volunteer firefighter on the weekends?

“Alright, that’s the last one.”

“Wait, really?” She chances a skittish glance but, sure enough, the needle is out.

“Yep, just let me get a band-aid for you and you’re all set.” Is he? Is she? Really? Going to make it out of here with no blackout? She considers, very briefly, as Marcus is smoothing a band-aid over the back of her hand, whether it’s possible to put a phlebotomist on retainer. 

“If you want to sit for a minute and make sure you’re feeling alright before getting up that’s totally fine. I can also get you water or juice if you’re getting lightheaded.” 

“Oh, no, I’m fine actually. Which, hey, thanks for not making me faint and stuff– that’s a first for me in a very long–” Oh, oh, stops herself mid-compliment because oh, oh, maybe stood up too fast, because the room is going a little dark, a little sideways, cold prickle and nauseous and–

“Easy, easy, I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?” His voice is a little fuzzy around the edges. To be honest, he’s a little fuzzy around the edges, though she knows right away what happened. No, not her first rodeo, like she blinked and then came to in a strange sprawl on the end of the exam table. Marcus presents a dixie cup to her, holds it right in her line of sight because clearly, she’s still a little slumped, still a little vacant, and a little warm, actually, which is new, and a little pleasant, and, oh, it’s because his arm is curled around her shoulders, firm palm held there to help her sit up. Oh. He smells like clorox and something woodsy, and it shouldn’t, but it kind of works. 

“You feeling okay?”

“Mmmhmm.” She’s afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she doesn’t keep her lips pressed in a thin line, mmhmms again when he asks if she can sit up on her own, only a little despondent when he takes his arm away. 

“So, you really weren’t kidding about that happening every time, huh?” 

“Nope, wish I was. It’s– I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“That you had to deal with that.”

“You don’t have to be sorry about that, it’s part of the job. And actually, you fainted about as perfectly as I could’ve asked you to.”

“I didn’t know you could faint like, well.” 

“Right before you went down you said I’m gonna faint. That’s a lot better than getting no heads up and turning around to find my patient unresponsive on the ground.” 

“Oh gee, I bet you say that to all your patients.” Lord, if there was ever a time to put her out of her misery it’d be now. She probably still looks green from her little trip to outer space but sure, flirt with Marcus, handsome nurse Marcus who just watched you absolutely eat it. Kick your feet and bat your eyelashes while you’re at it. 

“I take it you’re feeling better then? Are you okay to walk out to the front desk?” And the rest is, mercifully, easy. He walks her to the front desk, squeezes her shoulder and gives her a good job today that she likes a little too much. She makes a mental note to herself to never come back to this clinic for any future bloodwork, lest she make a fool of herself all over again in front of a man who, with any luck, she will never see again. 

…

“Yes, this is she speaking.” This is she speaking in the middle of the cereal aisle with a half-filled grocery basket at her feet. She sets her gaze on a hyper-realized image of a granola cluster (now with real strawberries!) while the woman on the other end of the phone tells her that her lab results came in and were sent over to her doctor. 

“Oh, great, thank you for letting me know. Do you know– did things look okay?” 

“We don’t interpret the results, ma’am. Your doctor will go over that with you.” She doesn’t quite catch that, doesn’t catch the woman’s ma’am? either, a little preoccupied with staring down the aisle, because is that? Is he? He looks good out of the scrubs. 

“Ma’am?”

“Sorry, no, um, of course. Thanks again.” If the woman had anything else to tell her, it’s a little too late for it, already hung up, and she’s trying to decide if she wants him to see her, or if fleeing immediately is the best course of action. He probably wouldn’t even recognize her, she thinks. It’s been a couple of weeks since the whole ordeal. And actually, she’d prefer if he didn’t recognize her. Oh yeah, the one who, well, ate it. But it seems the choice has already been made for her, because he saw her, walking down the aisle toward her, with his chin tilted down and part of a smile like he isn’t sure, but he’s pretty sure. He says her name like a question. Guilty as charged.

“Marcus, right?” Like she forgot his name, ha. His smile stretches, a little brighter, palm to the nape of his neck, and while she got the golden retriever part wrong, she totally clocked the rest, watch on his wrist and nice-looking athletic shorts and just-right-tight t-shirt with the little swoosh on the chest. She thinks his hair might even be a little sweat-damp, curled ends nearly getting in his eyes. In other words, she’s a goner. 

“How have you been since we– you, well–”

“Since I passed out on you?” Yeah, that, he laughs out and yeah, she likes him, sue her. 

“Just for the record, I believe it was you who said I passed out perfectly, so.” Shrug, so, he takes a step closer, leans in a little like he’s going to tell her a secret. In the cereal aisle, of all places. 

“Just for the record, I really don’t say that to all my patients.”

“No?”

“Nope, just the nervous, pretty ones.”

“I was not nervous.”

“You weren’t?”

“Nope.”

“Are you just gonna blow past the other thing?”

“What thing?”

“The pretty thing.”

“Yep.” Something a little giddy, like being back in high school, shared, shit-eating and smug grins. He shakes his head and she rolls her lips back in her mouth to stop her smile from getting any cheesier. 

“So, you do live around here then?” 

“Mm, yeah, I do. And so do you?”

“I do.”

“Nice, nice.”

“Lovely weather we’re having.”

“Wow.” 

“What? I’m making conversation.”

“You’re still not very good at it.”

“I’ll keep working on it for you.”

“Sure, okay. What kind of cereal do you get?”

“What kind do you think I get?”

“You look like a Kashi guy, if I’m honest.”

“Somehow I feel insulted.”

“Well.”

“You’re not even right either.” 

“No? What do you get then?” He just smiles, steps away and reaches up to the top of the shelf and she is very grateful to General Mills for being located on the top shelf because his shirt rides up just enough to see a bare hip. In cheerios we trust. 

“Apple cinnamon, seriously?”

“What? It’s a classic.”

“Actually, you know what, that tracks.” 

“What do you get?” She waggles her basket in front of him in response, goods already procured. 

“Peanut butter chex, respectable choice.”

“Thank you, thank you.” 

“You know, I’d say we’re pretty good at this conversation thing.”

“Yeah, we’re not bad.”

“Do you want to do this again sometime? Not in the cereal aisle?”

“What, you mean like in the produce section?” He smiles at that, rolls his eyes, his basket lightly bonking against hers. 

“I was thinking more like dinner, or drinks if that’s your thing?” 

“I might be free on Saturday.”

“I might also be free on Saturday.” 

“Well, sounds like we’re both free on Saturday.”

“Can I get your number?” His lockscreen is a picture of a dog. Lucille, he tells her, before she was very old and very deaf. She can’t help how big her smile gets at that. 

“Text me, and we’ll do this whole conversation thing again.” I will, he says, phone tucked back into his pocket, though he seems to think twice before asking her can I see something really quick. Not entirely sure what he means when she nods, but then his hand sort of hovers over her forearm, may I? He really does have nice hands, she doesn’t think twice about nodding again. 

“Oh yeah, we didn’t have to use your hand. I could have totally gotten it from here.” His hand curled around her elbow and his thumb lightly pressing into what she can only assume is a vein, and he says it so earnestly that she can’t help the incredulous laugh that rises up in her chest. 

“Really? You’re still stuck on that, huh?” He smiles something sheepish, pad of his thumb rubbing an apology into her skin before pulling away. She didn’t really want him to pull away.

“Sorry, occupational hazard, I guess.” 

“Kinda weird, you know.”

“Did I just ruin this whole thing?”

“Mmm, no, I kinda like it.”

“So, Saturday?”

“Looking forward to it, Marcus.” 

[kezokinos]

bringing back your mom gone wrong no clickbait epic fail

COMMISSIONS OPEN

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.

or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?

or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~

Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive? Danny: Oh, really? And Danny took it personally.

It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?

Danny’s obsession was going crazy.

Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to. If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?

Johnny 13: Sup. Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty. Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week. Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em… Johnny 13: Suck? Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me. Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it. Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?

Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years. Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success. Johnny 13: When did you get drunk? Danny: I didn’t. Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that? Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems? Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it. ~~~~~ Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please. Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough? Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break. Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*

~~~~~

Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now.. Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving. Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!

~~~~~

Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny. Jason: There’s nothing funny about that. Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work. Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right? Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid. Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint. Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now. Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up. Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know? Hood *raises eyebrows*. Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?

~~~~~2 hours later~~~~

~~~~~

Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.

Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals…or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.

To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.

Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.

The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley. Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight. But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea. Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:

~~~~~

Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan? Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession. Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice. Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature. Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work. Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.

[fooled-around-and-fell]

your geto fic is super cute 🥰 if you're taking more requests, may I request a sukuna fic please? maybe in an au where he's a gangster and reader is of a classy, rich family so reader's parents don't agree, but then sukuna appears in one of their events in a suit and looking dashing as ever!

ooooooooo it's 3 am but i have to write this down!!!!!!!!!

shadows and silk.

summary: sukuna shows you and your parents that he is absolutely the right and the only man for you (whether they agree or not) genre: angst/fluff pairing: gangster!sukuna x female reader warnings: cursing, modern day au, not a great parent-child relationship, ooc sukuna

Masterlist

-----

your father doesn't even bother to hide his disapproval. "he has tattoos on his face. what if he's in the mafia- what have you brought our family into?!"

"father-"

"i am," sukuna clarifies, "in the mafia. my father is the leader. and one day, it'll be my time to lead."

your parents gasp in shock, surprised by sukuna's brashness.

"that wasn't a threat," he clarifies again, holding your hand. "i love your daughter, and i'd like to have a good relationship with you both. because it's important to her."

you smile appreciatively and grasp his hand, looking at your parents with hope.

"you're fucking insane."

-----

it was probably not the wisest decision to ask for your parents' approval, knowing what kind of people they are. being one of the richest families in the country, it's hard to have... any kind of life outside of what they had planned for you. like a pawn in their game of chess, your choices have been made for you since the very beginning.

unlike sukuna, you grew up "perfect". you aced your piano lessons, easily graduated from your violin school, and got straight As in all your grades. every day was the same for you; wake up, school, extra lessons, homework, sleep, and repeat.

that's actually how you met sukuna. one day, there was something wrong with the traffic so your driver was late. you'd been waiting for an hour, and sukuna just happened to finish his detention.

"hm?" his eyes caught you standing by the gate. "aren't you that rich kid?"

you looked up at him and analyzed his face -- high school student with face tattoos, you don't see that very often. "who's asking?"

"tsk, tsk." he chuckled, "so much attitude for a little person." he ruffled your hair before walking in the other direction. "wanna come? i'm gonna go have some fun."

fun... the word was so unfamiliar to you. you'd never talked to him before, and though it really was probably dangerous to just go with someone whose name you didn't even know, you couldn't help yourself. especially not when he turned around with a smile, urging you to come with him.

he took you to places you've never been before and made you feel things you've never felt. you felt free from your parents' chains, for once you felt like you could do whatever you wanted.

and sukuna was glad he could make you smile. you, the girl who always kept to herself in class, quiet, polite, almost scared. you made him feel things, too.

you got an earful from your parents that day, but the cute keychain sukuna won you from the night market was worth it.

now, the keychain hangs on your favorite bag, one that he also got you a few weeks ago. though you already have multiple designer bags that are much more expensive, the bag sukuna gave you was priceless.

"morning, baby." sukuna greets you, kissing your cheek.

"morning," you smile at him. "i'm sorry for how yesterday went. my father, he's-"

"let him be," he says. "nothing can keep me away from you, understand?"

you smile at his words and nod, "you better keep it as a promise."

sukuna smiles and kisses you, "i swear it."

he wonders what he could've possibly done to deserve someone like you.

-----

"what do you mean i'm getting married?"

your father sighs. "don't be difficult. the gojo clan is the most powerful, you should be thankful they're letting you marry their son."

"but father, i have a boyfriend, and i just graduated college! i- i can't marry, i still have so much i want to-"

"enough!" he yells, "you're marrying gojo satoru by the end of next month and that's final."

you're lucky that you have your own apartment. dialing sukuna's number, you get into your car and drive home where sukuna says he's waiting for you.

"ugh, unbelievable!" you throw your keys on the table, letting it slide off and annoying you even more.

he grimaces and sits you down, handing over a glass of water. "so it didn't go well..."

you sigh, "...they're arranging a marriage. with the gojo clan."

sukuna's jaw clenches, anger evident, but then it disappears. "that makes sense. they are the strongest and the richest."

"they're not giving me an option, like always-"

"gojo satoru is pretty handsome," he continues, "blue eyes, tall, quite built.. he's not a bad bachelor."

you squint your eyes at your boyfriend who seems like he's talking nonsense... or not really. "what are you trying to say?"

sukuna sighs. "we should break up."

the words that come out of his mouth after that are all blurry to you. something along the lines of...

"we've been together for years."

"it's time to get a fresh start."

"aren't you curious what it's like to date other people?"

"i'm getting bored to be honest."

and it all just seems like bullshit. bullshit because why is he looking at you like that when he's breaking up with you? why does he look like he's still madly in love with you and saying all that stuff is killing him?

why does he look like he's lying?

"tell me you're joking."

sukuna, unfortunately, doesn't humor you and leaves you alone in your apartment without saying anything else.

the rest of the month feels like hell. you tried running away from your parents, the guards they sent after you, but to no avail. somehow, they've repurchased your apartment and now you're back to living with them.

you met gojo satoru once throughout the entire month. he's decent, and actually a good guy like sukuna said, but he's not sukuna. he doesn't leave a random flower he picked up on the way to your place, he doesn't shower your hands with kisses when he sees you, and that's all expected -- because it's not supposed to be a loving relationship. it's a contract. once you marry him, your parents' company will merge with the gojos and become even richer.

today's the engagement party. your mother has chosen the perfect red gown for good luck, and she's made all the preparations for the party -- you, like always, never had a say in anything.

you feel like an object for them to trade with. compared to the gold bars sitting in their safe, you're probably worth less.

"i know you also didn't agree to this," gojo satoru whispers as you're both sat down in the middle of the ballroom while everyone else enjoys their meal. "but you look beautiful."

you offer him a polite smile, which turns rather sad. hidden in your sleeve is the keychain sukuna got you. your mother managed to throw away every cherished memory you had of him except for the keychain.

you wonder what sukuna is doing right now... if he's enjoying his life, if he maybe has a new girl by his side...

"sorry to shit on your party," your head snaps up the moment you hear that familiar voice, and a gasp escapes when you see the even more familiar tattooed face with pink hair. "but i'm going to have to kidnap your fiancee for a bit. maybe forever."

"..ryo." you stand up abruptly, letting your chair fall and hit the ground. he's dressed in a white suit, black vest, black shirt, and a matching black tie. he looks like he's ready to be your groom.

giving you the smile you miss most, sukuna stands in front of you and grabs your hand. "hi, princess."

"what are you doing here?" you whisper, tears about to fall from your eyes.

"saving my damsel in distress." he softens when he sees your lip tremble, kissing you gently. "i told you nothing can keep me away from you."

"but you-"

behind you, gojo satoru clears his throat, motioning to the many guards surrounding both of you, ready to pull you two apart by force.

"let my daughter go right now." your father demands.

you grasp sukuna's arm tightly, not planning on letting him go any time soon. in return, he has his arm around your waist, pulling you to him gently before he snaps his fingers, revealing rows and rows of armed men ready to fire.

the guards immediately stand down, obviously outnumbered. they let you and sukuna leave without a fight, and you stop for a second to spare a glance at your parents, looking at you disapprovingly.

-----

you're sitting on sukuna's bed. you've only been to this place a few times, considering he moves around a lot. he's helping you with the infinity amount of hairpins you have stuck in your hair while you take off the red gown you're wearing.

"ryo," you call him.

he hums to acknowledge you, mouth full of hairpins.

"...why did you break up with me?"

taking out the last piece of hairpin (he thinks it's the last), he throws them away before sitting behind you, arms snaked around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder.

"i... i thought i was doing you a favor," he admits, "with my job... it's not easy being with me, you know? i'm scared you'll think i'm a monster for what i do - it still terrifies me."

"so i thought if i just pushed you away, it'll make things easier for both of us," his grip on you tightens, "but it didn't. at least not for me. and i know i'm being selfish here by wanting you back, i know i don't deserve it, but i just... i can't imagine living without you. i'm sorry. i'm so sorry."

you turn around to face him, straddling his thighs and kissing him softly. "if being selfish means i'm stuck with you, then you need to be more selfish."

he grins, arms wrapping around you. "i love you."

"i love you more, ryo."

[matrixbearer2024]

Hi!!! I love your Get Off My Screen series so much! I was wondering if I could do a request for that?

Basically the idea is that Vox and the reader are just texting at night maybe and he lets something slip about something he misses from his old life on earth and because of that the reader remembers that the person they’ve been talking to for like over a year by now probably used to be alive and just spends the whole night learning everything they can about vox when he was alive (I imagine this would happen whilst vox was asleep and we’re just googling him) and then maybe I feel like we’d also google Alastor as a joke to see what all the fuss is about and then we find out that the person vox is ~~crushing~~ hating on is a serial killer and then just telling everything we learned when he wakes up.

Sorry if that’s really long I just fell like this is 100% what I would do in this situation

Old Times Gone By

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: I'm so glad you guys are requesting scenarios within the series, heck- I'm glad y'all enjoy it this much already hahaha! This is somewhat of an aftermath to the "You Could Do Better(With Me)" which is why it's not as cheery as the other chapters- but it's definitely not straight up angst. Just vulnerability and late night chatting between friends. Haha "friends"- And as always, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and happy reading!

A/N: Again, I kind of deviated from the prompt a little to better fit the narrative but Reader does know about Alastor and who he is because of Vox's ranting. They're aware that her demonic crush has a weird obsession with a cannibalistic radio serial killer deer dude and it's still not the weirdest thing he's done so far HAHAHAHA

If there was one thing Vox had to say he hated about drinking-

It had to be dealing with the hellish hangovers come morning.

Especially when he'd been wasted the night before.

A sharp jab in his side caused him to wake up this time.

He grunted, nearly falling off his chair when he shifted ever so slightly.

Huh-

Wait, why was he in here???

He could feel the migraine start to pound in his head.

Vox wasn't looking forward to today already.

When he tried to stand up, a clink of a bottle made him look down by his feet.

Picking it up to give the darn thing a once over, he scoffed.

He must have been absolutely hammered to have finished this yesterday.

It was a brand he despised the taste of too.

"Vox-? Oh, you're up."

His head whipped around so quickly once he heard your voice.

When had he even connected to your TV?

Not that he complained, he managed to see you sat up on the couch and stretching.

Your hair stuck up in odd positions and you even looked to be half-awake.

Why was that fucking cute???

"I- mhm. I guess I am. Was I... drinking yesterday?"

"I don't really know, I just knew you were drunk out of your mind last night. I can only see your face remember?"

"Ah... right."

Vox couldn't really bring himself to say much this time, not while he was still trying to grab the bits and pieces of his memory on yesterday's events.

Did he really wander into the monitor room just because he missed you?

That was low, even for him.

"Good morning anyhow, not that I think it would be if you're dealing with a hangover."

Vox just chuckled, watching you get up and disappear from the TV's view.

He wasn't in any mood to work at all, especially when he had a shitty headache to deal with too.

Eh, his empire could last a day without him.

He notified his secretary to just cancel all his duties and appointments for today, just ignoring their panic as you returned back into view.

"What are you holding?"

"Coffee."

"I thought you said you hated coffee?"

"Not hate, I just don't prefer it. But I need the caffeine to function today and I'd rather drink this bean juice than those energy drinks."

Vox wouldn't admit it, but talking to you again was already starting to make him feel a little better.

Especially after your noticeable absence.

He'd rather die again that outright say he missed you, his pride wouldn't allow it.

Cracking his joints, he just watched you sleepily stare up at him from where you sat on the couch.

Granted, it was probably because your TV was probably perched higher or on a shelf.

But Vox still thought you were kind of short.

Not that he had the right to say anything-

He was a 7ft tall giant compared to you.

"Again with the bean juice thing, and what's wrong with energy drinks?"

"They taste like straight up chemicals."

Vox just gave you a weird look when you rolled your eyes at him.

Still you just kept talking to him inbetween taking sips of your hot beverage.

"I'm not surprised you enjoy them, but your palate is probably shit."

"Oh you do not wanna go there-"

"What if I do huh? Watcha gonna do about it?"

Vox just grinned, you getting up to move closer to the screen as you challenged him.

The wide mischievous grin on your face mirrored his own and you both quickly devolved into just either bragging about exotic foods you've eaten-

Or straight up going for the jugular about each other.

"You eat McDonald's daily? I can't believe you'd feed yourself garbage Vox-"

"It's not garbage, and don't act like you've never eaten fast food."

"You are what you eat, I guess!"

"Ohoho! You bitch!"

Vox didn't seem to mind the numbing headache he felt when you were back to being your animated rambunctious self.

He wondered if it was because of the caffeine that made you all hyped up but he couldn't really bring himself to give a shit.

Not when he was still pretty tired.

It seems you noticed his retorts weren't making their usual mark though, and you crossed your arms over your chest while leaning towards the TV screen.

Vox just narrowed his eyes at you in confusion, what were you doing?

"You my good sir, need a hot cup of coffee more than I do. And freshen up while you're at it, I need to go take a shower too anyways."

You-

You did not just do what he think you did.

Were you actually mothering him??

Vox just rolled his eyes at your words, not really intending to go until he realized you weren't budging an inch either.

"Didn't you just say you needed to go clean up?"

"Not leaving till you are."

"Stubborn much?"

"Not that different from you, no."

The tech overlord laughed at your insistence, eventually relenting and disconnecting himself from your devices.

He stretched again when he got up from his chair, picking up the empty alcohol bottle near his feet not intending to clutter up or dirty his workspace.

Vox perked up when his phone buzzed though.

The darn thing catching his attention before he forgot it was there.

He checked on it with his free hand, chuckling when he realized it was just a message from you.

"Go and freshen yourself up, get a cup of coffee too while you're at it. I'll be back soon, kisses!"

You almost caused him to break his phone from the grip he had on it.

Kisses???

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?!

Vox seriously stood there staring at his phone for a good ten minutes just buffering and rebooting-

Dude is actually broken the second you do literally anything with vaguely romantic undertones.

Still he stomps all over his own hopes and feelings in fear of misinterpreting your friendliness.

Yeah, both of you were fucking clueless.

You stayed true to your word and did eventually come back after you'd cleaned yourself up.

Vox had just been waiting on your TV again and the screen brightened slightly upon noticing you.

It was a subconscious reaction, don't bring it up or he'll definitely throw a hissy fit.

So that's what you both did the whole day, talking and just catching up.

While Vox did mention you skipped classes for the day, you just shot back that he threw his work to the backburner as well.

Not that he bothered to refute it, instead just moving on with the conversation like normal.

Hours passed and time flew.

Before you knew it, the both of you were talking well into the evening.

"And that's kind of the reason why I think spaghetti is superior to penne."

"Doll, they're straight up just different kinds of pasta."

"The fact there's different kinds of pasta mean that people clearly can't decide on a superior noodle shape."

Yeaaah... your conversations kind of stopped making sense an hour ago.

Not that either of you minded, even laughing about some stupid thing way into the AM.

"So like- he thought he was really some hot shit taking on the leader of the exorcists but he got his ass absolutely handed to him!"

"Bro almost got turned into demonic venison HAHAHAHA!"

Though of course, late night conversations always went deeper than those normally held within the day.

"Say... Vox?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you miss being alive? With, ya know- talking to me and all."

Vox paused slightly, it's been a long time since he reminisced of his living days.

When was the last time he even did?

"Not necessarily, I miss some things but not a whole lot."

"Like what? When did you die???"

"Hm... I don't remember the exact date, but sometime in the fifties?"

Vox recoiled when you just gawked at his screen, why did you react like that?

"Holy shit! You're fucking ancient!"

"Haha... very funny doll, I'm not that old! I died in my thirties."

"Ehhhh? You're not much older than I am then. How??"

"Don't remember, it was a long long time ago."

You made a weird face at him, to which Vox just smiled and chuckled.

It was the same expression you wore when trying to figure things out.

As... weird and cute as it may be.

Then you suddenly yawned, causing the tech overlord to consequently do the same.

Something you poked fun at him for since when did TVs yawn apparently.

Rolling his eyes, Vox took a glance at his internal clock.

It was four in the morning?!

How long had you both been talking????

"Vox? You good?"

Apparently his bewilderment was evident on the screen, so he just switched his attention back to you.

Vox's screen glitched slightly when he was caught off guard by how close you got to the TV.

Almost all up in his face even.

"Y-Yeah, just zZst- fine. Say... Doll, do you know what time it is?"

"Uhhhh- no, not really- why?"

"It's four in the morning."

"And?"

"You need to sleep?"

You rolled your eyes and turned your back to the TV, plopping down on the couch with a pout.

"Hey."

You ignored him.

"Heeeeeey-"

Vox couldn't help but chortle from your antics, you really seemed like a grumpy child right now.

"Look dollface, I don't want the fun to end either but we've still got tomorrow."

"I don't wanna say goodnight. You're just going to disconnect when I do."

"What, you can't expect me to fall asleep hooked up to all your stuff again can you? My chair isn't the most comfortable place to fall asleep."

"Still!"

Vox rubbed his face with a sigh, he felt the inexplicable urge to just pinch your cheeks.

He would if he could but he didn't exactly have hands as a TV.

Why did you have to be so cute?

"How about this? I'll stick around until you pass out. You won't even notice I'm gone come morning."

"Fineeeeeee."

It didn't take too long for you to fall asleep on the couch.

Similarly to yesterday, you were just haphazardly sprawled across the furniture with a thin blanket to cover you.

Despite his words, Vox still stuck around for a while to make sure you were asleep.

You looked so serene while you rested, like you didn't have any worries.

The overlord let out a tired sigh, he'll just stick around for another five minutes.

Just a little longer in this peaceful moment with you.

Vox totally fell asleep in his chair again, he woke up that morning in an awkward position feeling more sore than ever too.

"Oh for fuck's sake-"

"MORNING VOXYYY!!!"

[bellaxgiornata]

Seeking Forgiveness [Part Two]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.7k

[Full summary and installment list for this series can be found here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader

a/n: I am so happy to see how much love this series has already gotten! And now part two of this angsty series is finally here! The next installment is already written and will be in Matt's POV. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @mattmurdocksstarlight @just-going-through-the-motions @paracosmic-murdock @yeonalie @auroraslibrary @1988-fiend @will-delete-this-later-probably @two-unbeatable-beaters @danzer8705 @ragamuffin285 @callmebrooklynbabes @spookyboogyuniverse @peachy-aisha @stevenknightmarc @nerdytreeflower @fucktthisworld @remuslupinwifee 

Curled up on your couch, having made yourself as small as possible, you’d been half-watching the series that you had playing on Netflix. Mostly you’d had it on for the background noise, not wanting to feel quite as alone as you actually were. Eyes closed, you lay there huddled under your softest blanket drifting in and out of sleep. As much as you didn't want to admit it, you'd picked this blanket because it had been Matt’s favorite one at your place, soft even to his senses. The pair of you had curled up on your couch underneath it together countless times in the past.

Turning and burying your face into your pillow, you fought down yet another wave of nausea at the movement and attempted to muffle the whimper that slipped out of you at the thought of Matt. It had only been just over a day since your fight with him which had ultimately ended the relationship. He’d never even reached out to you once he’d eventually returned home Thursday night after dealing with whatever had been more important than staying and talking to you. He hadn’t made a single attempt to discuss the important thing you’d told him you'd needed to talk to him about, either, clearly not finding it important enough to give it his attention. And he obviously must not have cared about how hurt you’d been that night when he'd left–which had seemed very unlike the Matt you’d initially fallen in love with. 

He didn’t reach out to you all of Friday, either. Not that it had really come as a surprise to you. Though that hadn’t stopped you from staring at your phone on and off throughout the day, willing him to call and apologize and prove that his behavior lately wasn’t really him. But your phone never rang and that only further cemented your anger at Matt. So you never made an attempt to reach out to him in return. Instead, you’d spent most of your day at work crying or trying not to puke in a bathroom stall, barely able to focus on getting anything done. 

If Matt had wanted to talk to you, he’d have reached out and talked to you. Things were over between you both now, that was incredibly apparent. Despite how hurt you were about the way things had ended, and how much you'd been crying over Matt and the breakup along with your current situation, you were also absolutely pissed at Matt, too. Pissed that he had treated you the way he had recently–and pissed at yourself for sticking around long enough thinking that wasn’t Matt. Because it clearly was with how often he’d broken promises to you, even if he’d never been quite like that in the almost year and a half you’d both been together. He’d certainly changed on you, showing you his true self which was too wrapped up in playing savior trying to protect Hell’s Kitchen.

Now it was Saturday morning and you’d woken up feeling exceptionally hormonal and nauseous. You hadn’t even been able to finish the buttered toast you’d made this morning in the hopes of settling your stomach, the taste of it so strong that you found yourself gagging until you’d tossed it in the garbage and opened a window to alleviate the smell of it in your apartment. You’d read about the heightened sense of smell for pregnant women just last night when you’d been researching early pregnancy symptoms and wondering what to expect. Immediately your first reaction was to call Matt, wanting to tell him and make a joke about having super senses just like him. But the moment you’d pulled up his contact on your phone, you’d remembered you couldn’t call him.

You’d spent this morning trying your hardest not to think about him and then inevitably sobbing into your pillow when you failed. You had already flipped it around a handful of times now, but still you couldn’t seem to find a spot to rest your head that wasn’t already soaked from your tears. It didn’t help that you were hungry–almost ravenous–but simultaneously disgusted by the thought of any and all food. You were tired, too. A level of tired you’d never felt before, and you figured your past few nights of poor sleep weren’t the only thing to attribute that to.

All you wanted to do today was sulk on your couch. You’d made an appointment for Tuesday with an obstetrician for your first visit and you’d already placed a grocery order last night–making sure you added prenatals and plenty of fresh fruit to your order. Now you just wanted to wallow in misery for a while and pray that the nausea didn’t last the entirety of the first trimester. You didn’t think you’d survive that on top of dealing with a broken heart.

But all your plans to be lonely and miserable fell right out the window the moment you heard a few knocks sound out from your apartment door behind you. Groaning, you buried your face further into the cold, damp pillow. Half of you hoped it wasn’t Matt, the other half of you wanted to smack him with one of his billy clubs.

“Who’s there?” you called out, words partially muffled by pillow.

“It’s Karen,” the familiar voice replied a little hesitantly. “I brought coffee and bagels.”

You groaned again, the few contents of your stomach swirling around uncomfortably at the thought of either of those things. And you loved coffee and bagels.

Reluctantly you pushed yourself up from the couch, pausing for a moment when you were hit with a surge of dizziness. You moaned pathetically, running a hand across your forehead as you waited it out. When the room finally stopped spinning, you fully rose to your feet before taking your time making your way over to your apartment door.

Opening it, you were greeted with the sight of Karen in casual clothes. Which meant she hadn't gone into the office this morning, though judging by the sad smile on her face as she quickly scanned you over, you knew that she'd heard about the breakup. Or at least suspected it. 

"Hey," she greeted you gently, holding up the cardboard coffee holder in one hand and the brown paper bag of bagels in the other. "I brought an offering of comfort."

"So you know?" you asked her.

Stepping to the side, you gestured her into your apartment. Karen didn't hesitate, heading straight towards your living room as you closed the door after her. Slowly you turned, trudging your way to your living room and trying your best not to look like you were going to be sick. 

“Suspected,” Karen said, glancing over her shoulder at you. “But now I feel like my suspicions have been confirmed.”

Settling down onto the couch beside Karen, you watched as she reached over towards your coffee table and pulled a coffee out of the holder. Turning towards you, she offered it to you with a warm smile. You reached out, about to accept the cup from her hand–desperate for caffeine–but when the strong aroma of caramel and espresso from the latte hit your nose, you nearly retched. Grimacing, you quickly waved a hand at the coffee, shaking your head and cringing away from it. Karen drew her hand back, sniffing the coffee with a furrow between her brows as she eyed the cup in her hand. 

"You usually get caramel lattes, right?" she asked, glancing up at you in confusion. 

"Yeah, I just–just don't feel like coffee right now," you lied.

"Okay," Karen replied slowly, setting the coffee back down on your coffee table. "So do you want to tell me what happened?” she asked, picking up her own coffee and focusing back on you. “Because Matt was…an absolute mess at the office yesterday. I mean, granted, he’s been coming in looking like shit for awhile now, but he seemed half alive yesterday. Wouldn't say why, either, but I had a feeling it involved you.” She paused, her blue eyes surveying you closely. “And judging by the fact that it looks like you've been crying, I'm guessing it does."

You sighed, gaze dropping down towards your lap. There was no point in hiding the breakup. Not from Karen. She was too perceptive and you knew one way or another she’d figure it out. Plus, it would feel good to not feel alone for just a bit.

“Yeah, we broke up,” you confessed. “Thursday night. And it was…awful.”

She gasped, the noise drawing your focus up towards her on the couch beside you. Her hand had frozen with her coffee cup just before her lips, her eyes wide in shock. A second later her cup was lowering back to her lap, her left hand darting out and grabbing yours.

“Are you serious?” she asked. “What the hell happened? I thought you two were doing so well together?”

Shrugging, you felt a lump forming in your throat. You tried to swallow it down, but stubbornly it refused to disappear. 

“We had been until a couple of months ago when things gradually began to go downhill,” you told her. “I knew about him going out as Daredevil. Obviously I had always known about that since we’d started dating. And it hadn’t been an issue because there’d always been compromise in the relationship. But over the past couple of months he’d slowly been going out more and more,” you explained, feeling the tears starting to burn at your eyes yet again this morning. “Until he was going out every single night. For a couple of weeks straight. And he kept repeatedly promising me he’d make time for me over and over, but then he kept forgetting or making excuses and going out as Daredevil instead. And it just–just got to be too much, you know?”

Karen nodded, squeezing your hand gently in hers. “So you ended things with him?” she asked. “Because he kept choosing Daredevil over you?”

You pulled a face at her question, quickly shaking your head. “What? No,” you answered. “I told him I needed to talk to him about something important and he decided that running around as Daredevil was more important than being there for me. And I practically begged him to stay in, Karen. And you know what he did?”

“Something very dumb and Matt-like?” she guessed.

“He got pissed at me like it was all my fault because I didn’t accept what he does as Daredevil!” you exclaimed, anger soon replacing your sadness. “Which is utter bullshit because I have always been supportive of him. Always there to help patch him up and clean the blood off of him at the end of his nights. Making sure he actually ate dinner and helping him remember upcoming appointments because he was always so distracted. Offering him comfort whenever he needed it after a difficult night. And I never once asked him to stop despite how much I worried about him.”

Your right hand curled into a fist in your lap, the memory of the way Matt had spoken to you the other night flooding back. Gritting your teeth together, your focus dropped down to your lap.

“I loved him–loved him even as Daredevil. But I needed him that night, Karen,” you ground out, a tear slipping down your cheek despite your rage. “And I told him that. And yet he still chose to walk out on me.”

Karen was silent beside you for a long moment, her hand tightening around yours. Raising your right hand up, you wiped away a few stray tears with the back of it. You sniffled, your body feeling a confusing mess of anger and sadness that had you wanting to scream and throw everything in your apartment but also curl up in your bed and sleep away your pain. 

“What did you need to talk to him about?” Karen asked softly.

Your hand froze mid-swipe of a tear on your cheek as her question broke the silence. Slowly your eyes slid up, landing on Karen’s knowing blue ones. It was like she already could see right through you to the answer. Yet again you realized there was no point trying to hide something from her, especially because you knew you could confide the truth in her.

“I’m pregnant,” you whispered.

Karen inhaled a sharp breath at your confession, nodding her head slowly in response. Once again you tried to swallow that lump in your throat which now seemed almost permanently stuck there in the silence that followed. 

“So he doesn’t know?” she eventually asked.

You shook your head. “No,” you answered. “I found out Thursday morning. Told him earlier in the day that I really needed to talk to him. But he wouldn’t stay and talk that night. He was rude and mean and then he just left. Never tried to reach out to me afterwards. So we’re just…done. And now I’m trying to figure out how the hell I’m going to raise a child alone in the city.”

Her brows shot up in surprise onto her forehead. “Alone? Why would you be raising it alone? Are you not going to tell Matt he has a child?” she questioned.

Expression shifting quickly, you shot Karen a flat look. “Come on, Karen,” you said. “Of course I’ll tell him. But let’s be real here. Matt isn’t going to want to be a father. The man barely takes care of himself. He can’t even commit to a relationship without messing up his priorities. You think he’d want the responsibilities of having a child? Because I sure as shit don’t. Not after seeing him the other night.”

“Okay, yes,” she agreed, nodding again as she reached over to set her undrank coffee onto your coffee table. “He’s definitely got his flaws. But we’re talking about Matt here. He’s got a big heart underneath all that stubborn, self-flagellating bullshit. He would never turn his back on you–” she abruptly raised a hand to cut you off the moment you’d opened your mouth to counter her comment, “ –or at the very least, his own child.”

You shook your head, running hand across your forehead. Karen meant well, you knew that, but she was wrong. She hadn’t seen him going out every single night, fixated on that stupid Russian mafia like you had for weeks now. She hadn’t seen him that night when he’d talked to you the way he had. A couple of weeks ago, you’d never have believed that was Matt, either.

“I don’t think he’d not have a relationship with his own child,” you told her slowly, “but Matthew Murdock would never want to be a father. There is nothing more important to him than this goddamn city that he thinks he has to protect. So yes,” you stated, “I’m clearly doing this on my own, Karen.”

A slow, sad smile spread over her lips at your words. Shifting uncomfortably on the couch under her stare, your gaze darted over to the unopened bag of bagels on your coffee table. Your stomach gave a hungry lurch at the smell of the cream cheese. Reaching out, you grabbed the bag and immediately began to open it.

“This is the first thing that has smelled good in days ,” you told her.

She laughed lightly, picking her coffee back up and taking a drink. You immediately pulled out one of the packages, ripping it open before tearing a large bite out of the bagel. Somehow it tasted exponentially better than you remembered bagels ever tasting before.

“Have them both,” Karen urged. “I take it you’ve been experiencing pregnancy symptoms already then?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed out, chewing a bite of bagel before swiftly swallowing it down. “I feel like I’m always nauseous and tired. And I’ve been getting headaches nonstop. I’m hungry but almost everything I normally eat sounds and smells absolutely disgusting lately. I couldn’t even stomach buttered toast this morning–I had to open a window just to get the smell out of the apartment.”

Karen winced beside you. “That sounds awful.”

“Yeah, it is,” you replied. “And I researched other symptoms common in pregnancy, and you know what? They don’t sound much better, either.”

Karen’s fingers drummed lightly on her coffee cup as she chewed her lip, eyeing you. You continued to devour the bagel in your hands, your eyes narrowing as you watched her. Eventually one of your brows raised at her in a silent question.

“I don’t know if this is a stupid question,” Karen began cautiously, “but are you…excited at all? About being pregnant? I mean, I know this clearly wasn’t planned and it's all new to you still if you only found out on Thursday but…you’re having a baby. Have you–have you processed that yet?”

Lowering the bagel down to your lap, you let Karen’s question settle in your mind. You really hadn’t given that too much thought in the few days since you’d found out you were pregnant. Admittedly you’d been too focused on initially trying to tell Matt the news. But then when that didn’t go as planned, you’d been trying to deal with the pain of a broken heart while trying to set up an appointment for an obstetrician and also trying to read up on information about early pregnancy. You really hadn’t thought too much about your feelings.

You knew for a fact you wanted this baby, though. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind about that. Not that you had issues with the alternative, but you’d known the moment you’d seen those two pink lines on that pregnancy test that you were keeping it. No matter what that meant.

“I haven’t really thought about it, no,” you admitted quietly. “But I do know I want this.” 

Nervously chewing your lip, you wondered how Karen would feel about a big reason that you were so certain. Would you sound ridiculous considering how things had ended with you and Matt? Was it ridiculous? You weren’t entirely sure of the answer yourself.

“I don’t really know how to explain it but…as angry as I am at Matt and as much as I’m trying to move on from him,” you slowly admitted aloud, “I know there’s–there’s always going to be feelings there for him. That some part of me will always love him. And this baby–” you continued, your left hand unconsciously landing affectionately over your abdomen as your eyes began to water, “–it's a part of him. A part of us . Back when things were good between us. And even though this pregnancy wasn’t planned and it’s not what I would’ve initially chosen to have happen right now, I can’t help but love this child already.” Lips trembling, your gaze dropped down towards your abdomen, your hand continuing to gently rub across the top of it. “I can’t help but already love the fact that it’s both Matt and I in there. Even if I want to scream and slap the shit out of him right now for how much he hurt me.”

A few more tears slipped out of your eyes and you sniffled, turning your head and wiping the dampness on your cheeks onto the sleeve of your shirt. You felt Karen’s hand gently grasping yours again, the one you had resting over your belly. Glancing back towards her, you saw her send you a watery smile herself, her eyes glistening with tears.

“Whatever happens,” she whispered, “you know you’re not alone going through all of this. I’m always here for you. And whenever you tell Fog and Marci, I know they both will be, too. I know I can’t speak for Matt, but know that you’ve always got us.”

Your heart twisted in your chest at her promise. The pain of Matt not being in the picture was a sharp contrast to the love you felt right now from your friends about this situation. A smile gradually spread across your face, tears still trailing their way warm and wet down your cheeks. Though this time not entirely from sadness, but also from gratitude that your time with Matt had at least brought you such wonderful friends. 

“Thank you, Kare,”  you croaked out, reaching across the couch and quickly wrapping her in a hug. “You don’t know how much that means to me to hear. This is…definitely scary trying to navigate alone right now.”

“Well I’ll always be here for you,” she promised again, hugging you tightly back. “ Especially when you need someone to go baby shopping with you or to help put together a baby registry for that shower you know Marci and I are going to throw you. And I’d love to help you pick out little outfits for a girl or a boy anytime.”

You laughed, touched by her enthusiasm as the tears fell a little harder. You eventually pulled away from Karen, wiping a hand across your eyes as you tried to will them to finally stop falling. You’d already spent too much time crying this morning as it was.

“I think it’s a bit longer before I know the gender,” you told her, the faint smile still on your face. “But maybe an impromptu baby shopping trip is in the cards soon. Once I get a little farther along.”

“How far are you?” she asked curiously.

Her blue eyes dropped down towards your stomach, though you knew there wasn’t a baby bump visible yet.

“Nearing six weeks,” you answered, your smile growing a little wider. “At eight weeks I’ll have the first ultrasound, which I’m honestly a little excited for because I think it’ll make this all feel even more real.” Your eyes dropped back down to your abdomen, the smile still lingering on your lips. “And that’s when I’ll get to see them for the first time. Hear their heartbeat.”

At the mention of your baby’s heartbeat, a sharp pang hit you straight in the chest. Your smile faltered instantly as a thought struck you in that very moment. 

Matt wouldn’t need one of those machines to hear their heartbeat.

Your jaw clenched tight, your hand gripping firmly around the partially finished bagel you were still holding. More thoughts suddenly began to race through your mind as you sat there on your couch, briefly forgetting Karen was even there.

How would Matt feel when he heard his own child’s heartbeat for the first time? Would it affect him at all? Enough to ever make something else more important to him than just Hell’s Kitchen?

Because after the other night, you didn’t think anything could do that.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Once More, With Feeling ♡

♡ Pairing: poly!hyunlix x gn!reader

♡ Genre: fluff/angst

♡ Summary: Unable to sleep after a major argument leads to a breakup, you return to a place that's close to your heart to find comfort and end up with something much more special.

♡ Word Count: 1.4k-ish

♡ Warnings: None.

♡ A/N: I was listening to dreamy low-fi indie music and got in my feelings so, like, come get in them with meeee.

It’s 3:23am and you can’t sleep. Two tablets of melatonin, three cups of chamomile tea, and an endless loop of soothing rain sounds have done nothing to change that. Your heart aches, it’s unbearable, and there’s not a single thing you can do about it. Rolling onto your back, you rip the covers off, only now realizing how much you’ve been sweating from the anxiety of cycling through last night’s events over and over in your head.

None of this feels real, losing Felix and Hyunjin, the ones you love the most. Maybe it was a bad idea from the start, the three of you being together. Maybe you weren’t as well equipped to keep them both happy as you thought. Every “maybe” hangs over you as if it’s written in glow-in-the-dark paint on the ceiling, taunting you from the void. Does any of it even matter now? Whatever it was that led to the eventual downfall of your relationship, the argument that ended it all, you can’t go back and fix it.

Even still, your heart longs for the possibility that you’ll be together again someday. You’ve always liked to think that when you truly love someone you’ll find each other no matter what, in this life or the next. It could be wishful thinking, the musings of a hopeless romantic. What does it hurt to wish, you figure, if that’s all you have? You take a long, deep breath in, allowing your breath to slowly flow back out as you squeeze your eyes shut. If I lay here long enough I’m bound to fall asleep. Right?

“Fuck it” you groan, popping up out of bed and throwing on your fuzzy bunny slippers. Felix thought it’d be cute if the three of you got matching pairs. You hate how right he was. You’ve been fighting tooth and nail with yourself all night not to drive down to the pier. For years it’s been the destination of endless late-night drives. It’s where you snuck away together when the rest of the world felt like it was too much. Your memories of being there, as much as they might sting, are the dearest things to you and you need to drown yourself in them now more than ever.

So, before you know it, you’re headed out the door pulling a hoodie over your head, car keys in hand, desperately seeking solace in nostalgia. It’s a long, lonely ride to the pier. The combination of empty streets and too-long traffic lights gives you the sense that the world has come to a screeching halt. Whether it has or not for everyone else, it has for you. The light flashes neon green, bringing you back down to earth just as you begin to drift away, and you’re making the right turn that takes you to your usual parking spot. 

Turning the car off, you take a moment to sit and inspect the other cars around you. There are a few on your side, a dozen more on the other, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone out here. Probably all people who live nearby. Confident that you’re alone, the wall you’ve put up comes crumbling down, tears falling down your cheek faster than you can wipe them away. Why am I doing this to myself? You shake your body in what would look to a passerby like a cute, albeit strange, dance of sorts in hopes that some of the emotions overwhelming you will fall away like leaves.

Get it together. Summoning all of the courage you have, you make your way to the stairs leading up to the pier. You almost slip on the gritty, sand-coated steps, but manage to make it to the top without breaking your neck. As you venture forward you already hear the waves crashing to shore. You feel the stars watching you, their gaze intense and overwhelming. Only it’s not their gaze at all. There’s someone at the end of the pier staring back at you, teary-eyed and stunned. That intensity, that overwhelming emotion, it’s his.

Felix? No, no, no. You turn on your heels, racing back to the car before you lose it completely. “Wait!” he yells, running after you. Felix hadn’t expected to see you here either. He’d typed a million text messages asking you to come but he’d deleted all of them, thinking you wouldn’t want to see him with everything being so fresh. He’s been wishing too, as much as you have, and he can’t let this moment slip away. Your car door’s halfway open when he reaches you, your fingers held tightly around the handle.

“Can we talk?” he asks, his hushed voice skimming your neck as he pushes the door closed. You don’t fight him. You don’t want to. The feeling of his chest against your back, the wind blowing his hair so that it tickles your cheek, makes you want to melt into him. Turning to face him, melting is the first thing you do, straight into his arms. He doesn’t hesitate to hold you tight to him, the tension soothed by the simple act of having you near him again. “I’m really sorry” you weep, “I should’ve seen that you weren’t happy.” 

Felix shushes you, his fingers stroking your neck, “Stop, don’t say that. I was happy. Me and Hyunjin…working with each other, we just get frustrated sometimes and it wasn’t supposed to come home but it did. I should be sorry” “What? No invite to the family reunion?” you hear Hyunjin ask and you’re positive that you’re hallucinating. But when you look up he’s standing there staring at the two of you with an expression you can’t quite make out. “I…no…we didn’t…” Felix stutters but Hyunjin’s already walking away, heading for the edge of the pier, ignoring you like you’re strangers.

You’re so much more than that and he knows it. Enough time hasn’t passed for him to erase what you shared from his mind. Even if he could, he wouldn't. Why else would he be here? Hyunjin shoves his hands in his pockets, stopping to make a half-turn toward you. “If I admit I’m an asshole will you come with me?” “I mean, we already know you’re an asshole so…no” Felix teases, getting a laugh out of both of you. “What if I say I’m sorry and that I’d really like to not be alone…to be with you two?” A long stretch of silence separates his question and your answer.

“Wait up,” you smile, taking Felix’s hand and dragging him along with you to catch up to Hyunjin. Meeting him at the center of the pier, you take his hand too and the three of you walk to the edge together. Any other time the minutes would fly by, all of the laughter and kisses making hours feel like minutes. But, in the presence of lingering pain, minutes feel like hours. “It’s not the same,” Hyunjin sighs, picking at his already chipped nail polish and flicking it into the sea. You want to deny it but you can’t. “No, it’s not.” Felix sits down, crossing his legs as he frustratingly tousles his hair, “So that’s it, then? We’re done?” 

You take a seat beside him on the ground, sick to your stomach at the thought, “I mean, is that what you want?” “Of course not. It’s never what I wanted. We are what I want.” You turn to Hyunjin and he’s already sitting down on the other side of you, his head resting on your shoulder. “Me too” he yawns, “But what about you? It doesn’t matter what we want if you don’t—” “I do. I always will.” Their faces brighten up, even in the midst of their exhaustion. Felix takes his jacket off, gathers it in a little bundle in your lap, and lays down. “Maybe it shouldn’t feel the same this time,” he muses, “We should make it better.”

You pet Felix’s hair, “I’d like that.” Hyunjin nuzzles up closer to you, seconds from falling asleep, “Better sounds nice.” Stroking Hyunjin’s cheek, you lean into him too, every sleep aid you tried kicking in at once. Suddenly the world feels like it’s moving again, bursting with life even in the dead of night.

You’ve always liked to think that when you truly love someone you’ll find each other no matter what, in this life or the next. How beautiful it is that it turned out to be this one after all.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

One of Those Days

poly!mikaelsons x reader | request

summary: between the constant fighting and city clamor, you're overstimulated from the minute you wake up. you try to isolate until you feel better, but sometimes, that only makes things worse. luckily, your loving vampire partners are always there for you.

tags: sensory issues, mental health, overstimulation, arguing, mild emotional hurt / comfort

word count: ~2.6k

a/n: requested by @asexualaromosafezone - i am SO SORRY this took me literal months to complete. a couple days ago, i suddenly remembered i never filled it and finished it asap. i hope you like it, and again, so many apologies!

Sometimes, you wake up, and can immediately tell it’ll be a hard day. The sun has barely risen, yet there’s already a million noises coming through your window. Chatters of people having their morning walks, car horns from those too impatient to let them cross, the distant clang of a dropped pot, and-

“REBEKAHHH!”

-Klaus, yelling for his sister. At seven in the morning. 

“What the bloody hell are you shouting for?! I’m right here!”

You sigh, glad that mystery solved quickly.

There’s probably a few more minutes until your alarm rings, so instead of getting up a little earlier, you opt to enjoy your last minutes of peace. Though you soon realize that’s impossible, given your circumstances. On top of the city sounds, there’s a bird right outside your window, and when you try to turn away from it, the tag on your blanket itches the inside of your thigh. 

“Ugh!” You toss the blanket off. 

Your alarm sounds not a second later. 

With a slap to your phone and then another to your forehead, you decide to just get ready for the day. Luckily, not much is planned. Marcel still has control over the city, and with you being human, your Mikaelson hosts don’t want you outside at all. 

See, you live with the family of original vampires. You used to be a Mystic Falls’ resident, but then after developing a close connection with the siblings, decided to move to New Orleans with them and get a fresh start. You were tired of the small town life, and while the big city can be overwhelming at times, you’ll never get sick of the culture it has to offer. Besides, living with the most powerful family makes you happier than you ever believed you could be. 

As much as you love them, though, they can be a pain. Like when Klaus can’t find his sister, but forgets a whisper would summon her just as effectively. Instead, he has to wake up the whole quarter, and inconvenience you with a headache. When you reach the dining room that day, you slump your head on the table. 

“Everything alright, darling?” Kol’s voice floats over your head, making you aware of his presence. 

“Tired.”

“Is your bed comfortable enough? Do you need more blankets?”

You haven’t been in the city long, and his consideration warms your heart. 

“Oh, I’m okay. I’m very comfy. Just haven’t gotten used to the city yet.”

“Ah, I understand.”

His attention drifts to his sister. You busy yourself with a plate of food and ignore how tired you feel. When Elijah sits beside you, you offer a smile, but don’t say anything. The man, polite as ever, does the same. Though while two of the siblings are quiet, the other two aren’t. Klaus and Rebekah are still on the same topic from earlier. They bounce off each other quickly, childish banter turning into an argument.

You try to eat in peace and ignore them, but it’s difficult. And it doesn’t help that you’ve been feeling down lately, anyway. It’s rather unexplainable, the way you feel. Some days you’d rather stay in bed all day than face the world. Your whole body could be begging for you to get up and get things done, but you just can’t. No matter how hard you fight your own mind, sometimes there’s no winning the raging war. 

To make matters worse, you’re always hypersensitive when you find yourself in these low moods. Every little thing is overstimulating and there’s no pause button. This morning, you didn’t even get a chance to wake up before the sounds started. (Thanks, Klaus.) You roll your eyes in your head, annoyed. 

“Hey.” A poke to your shoulder startles you, making you jump. “You okay?” 

“Ooh, you caught me off guard.”

“Sorry,” Kol smiles, “you in deep thought, or rolling your eyes at Klaus’ statement?”

“Uh…” You bite your lip. You were rolling your eyes about Klaus, but missed whatever statement it was that he just made. “What did he say?”

“That he was on his way to have a little chat with Marcel. That will go swimmingly.”

“Oh.” You snort and decide to joke. “Both.”

Kol grins at you, but then, thankfully, leaves you alone again. 

After breakfast, you retreat back into your room, not in the mood to face the day. If Klaus is really going to start shit with Marcel, it’ll be an intense day. You’ve never met the current king of the French Quarter, but Elijah’s told stories. Marcel and the family used to be close, but then, like all their other relationships, ties ended drastically. 

“But not with you, of course,” he had promised. “You’re our girl.”

You were skeptical for a moment. Who wouldn’t be, knowing the Mikaelsons? But then Klaus approached you from behind with a kiss to your hair and confirmed his brother’s words,

“As long as we have your loyalty, you’ll always have ours.”

You could see the truth in his statement. Everyone who ended up on their bad side had betrayed them in some way. So, as long as you didn’t repeat others’ mistakes; as long as you kept your trust in the family, you would be considered family. And ever since the day you first grew close, you have been their family. 

You’re close with all of the siblings. Elijah, first, when you couldn’t take your eyes off him at Damon’s dinner party. Then Rebekah, and then Kol, when he undaggered. Even Finn, before his untimely death - thanks to Matt, your good friend now worst enemy. Klaus took the longest to trust you, and you can’t blame him for having trust issues, but once he realized how much his siblings adored you, he was quick to accept your place with them. 

Now, the five of you live together, nine hundred miles from your hometown. It’s certainly a change, but every day with them is an adventure.

Like today, you suddenly think, overhearing Elijah’s footsteps in the hallway. Today has definitely been one of those days. 

“Y/N?” He stops outside your door.

“Mhm?”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

Elijah opens the door, but doesn’t fully enter your room. He looks you up and down before smiling. “I just thought you seemed sad earlier and wanted to check on you. Is everything okay?”

“Oh!” You put on a brave face to mask the tiredness you feel internally. “Yeah, I’m just out of sorts today. It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure? Because if someone’s bothering you, that’s something we can take care of.”

“No, no, I promise. It’s all just me. Just having a day.”

“You’re positive?” He asks for confirmation again.

“Have I ever lied to you, ‘Lijah?”

He looks down at his shoes, embarrassed. “No, you haven’t. I apologize for doubting you.”

“It’s okay,” you step closer to him, resting against the door frame. “No need to apologize. But I swear, I just… woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something. New Orleans is a loud city. I’m still adjusting.”

“Okay. Well, call if you need anything. Even the smallest thing.”

“I will.”

“Oh, and be careful in the off-chance that Marcel storms in here. There’s a fight brewing in the quarter.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Better yet, stay inside for the day. So you’re not in harm’s way at all.”

“Okay, ‘Lijah.”

He smiles at you, then kisses your hand. “Now, I need to neutralize my brother. But I needed to make sure our girl was okay first.”

“She’s okay. Go deal with him.”

Elijah straightens his collar before speeding off to no doubt defend his brother in a fight. You love Klaus, but man, does he get angry. And then from anger, comes pure rage, then absolute chaos. Once situations escalate that far, the whole block better hide if they want to keep their hearts in their chest. 

You sigh, thinking of the carnage that may come. You’re not sure you can deal with his anger issues today, especially not coupled with those of Marcel. Of all the days they have to fight, it’s the one that you might snap, too, if he raises his voice one more time. 

Suddenly, your bed looks like the perfect oasis away from the mess behind your door. A good pillow over the ears might prevent an impending meltdown. You crawl into it at once and let your body melt into the mattress. 

You hadn’t lied to Elijah, though you hadn’t given him the full truth, either. Yes, you are, in general, okay. Not necessarily today, but at that moment, you were. Also yes, you’re not feeling great today, partly because of all the city noise. And, finally, yes, most of it is just you and your body not in the mood to be awake. Though Klaus is contributing, just a little bit, to your mental distress today. Elijah would understand, of course, but then he’d have a talk with his brother about it, and you really didn’t want to burden either of them in that way, so you put on a smile and didn’t mention it. You’d bet Elijah knows the full truth, and knows why you won’t admit it, but he respects you if you don’t want to talk about it. That’s one of the reasons you love him so much. 

You get a couple hours of rest until your slumber is interrupted by a new knock on your door. It’s not soft, like Elijah’s, so it must be one of the younger two. 

“Oh no,” you mutter, wondering what it must be now.

“Y/N?” Rebekah’s voice comes from the other side. “Are you awake?”

“I am now.” 

She opens the door as you reply. “Oh what the bloody hell are you still doing in bed?”

“Sleeping.”

“Obviously! Come watch a movie with Kol and I! We’d love your company.”

“An actual movie, or the public display of violence happening outside in the quarter?”

“We haven’t decided yet!” She grabs your hand. “Come on!”

You yawn. “I’m gonna pass today, I’m not up for it.”

“Awh, Y/N! It won’t be as fun without you!”

“I have a headache, Bex,” you fib. 

“Do you want some blood for that?”

“Does that even work like that?”

She shrugs, “not sure.”

You cuddle into your pillow. “Another time, okay?”

The girl smiles, then leans forward to kiss your head. “Okay. If you change your mind, come find us.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“Dinner’s at seven. Will you be there?”

“Yeah,” you promise, “I should be better by then.”

You are not, in fact, better by then. If anything, your foul mood progressed into an actual headache within thirty minutes of Rebekah leaving. Shouts throughout the city managed to penetrate the thin glass of your windows, and you could hear almost everything as Klaus heckled the current king. For hours, it went on, until the sun went down and they assumedly put it off for another day. By seven o’clock, you were able to sneak in another nap, but you still felt way overstimulated from the day’s events. 

Not to mention the fact that you spent all day in bed. Sometimes, you’re overstimulated by too much going on, but today you partly did it to yourself by hiding away all day. The guilt of avoiding everyone weighs on your chest. Rebekah had invited you to a movie; Elijah went out of his way to check up on you, and you had more or less dismissed them both. A bitter taste sits in your mouth when you think about it. Water doesn’t wash it out.

Hopefully dinner will. 

For the first ten minutes, the night passes peacefully. Most of the conversation is focused between the meal and the movie the two had watched. The events of the day, seemingly, are left in the past.

But then, of course, Kol has to make a comment on something he overheard that he thought was funny. And that set Klaus off into a spewing of anger. He’s pissed at Marcel, but now, also, at Kol for bringing it up. Elijah puts his face in his hands, and Rebekah sends both a huge eye roll. 

What was a moment of much-appreciated silence is now a yelling match. After five minutes, you reach your breaking point. 

“Why do you feel the need to comment on that, Kol? It was so insignificant, but you’ve felt the need to bring it up, and now I’m reminded of how much Marcel has done to piss me off!”

“I didn’t mean to make you upset, bloody hell! I thought it was funny!”

“It wasn’t funny to me when he was spitting in my face! I-”

“Oh my god! Are you ever not arguing?!” You suddenly shout. 

The table goes silent and all eyes are on you. A needle could be dropped and it would be heard across the quarter. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize quickly, embarrassed.

“Love,” Elijah puts a hand on your shoulder, “are you alright?”

At his touch, you flinch. He retracts his hand quickly, but doesn’t move his body away from its proximity to yours. 

Klaus, although upset at the interruption, notices this and calms a little. “Everything okay, Y/N?”

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

“That little outburst didn’t sound like nothing.”

“I’m just stressed.”

“Darling, what’s got you all upset? Tell us and we’ll sort it out now.”

“It’s no one, Kol, I’m just not feeling well.”

“Still have a headache, sweetheart?” Rebekah asks. 

“You have a headache?” Klaus butts in. 

The assortment of questions makes you drop your head. It nearly hits the table, but Elijah grabs your frame before you can fall. Tears form in your eyes, visibly. 

“I’m just really overstimulated today. I woke up weird and this city is loud, and then there was all the fighting all day long, and then I hid in my room all day, but then I felt bad about hiding, and now I’m making you all worried because I can’t get my shit under control!”

“And that’s your fault, how?” Elijah asks, “you cannot blame yourself for the way you feel.”

“But I need to handle my emotions better. I’m sorry.”

“No apologies necessary, love,” Klaus adds, “I certainly haven’t helped, fighting with children all day.”

“Niklaus,” Elijah warns, but Klaus doesn’t argue with him this time. 

“I should’ve stayed with you when you said you had a headache.”

“Don’t blame yourself either, Bex. It’s not your fault.”

“But we could’ve cuddled,” she frowns.

“It’s okay. I got a nap, and it helped a little. I just need to get used to my life being different now. None of you are at fault.”

“Nor are you,” the eldest reminds, “it’s been quite a day for us all.”

Kol clears his throat, “say, after dinner, if you feel up to it, we could all watch a movie and cuddle around you? I think some comfort is much needed.”

“Sure,” you agree, “but I might fall asleep during it.”

“That’s quite alright,” he smiles. He then stands up to hug you, but when his arms wrap around your neck, you freeze.

“Not yet, please. I’m still a bit stressed.”

He gives you a wink. “Of course, darling. Let me know when you’re ready.”

Klaus flicks his napkin across the table. He’s folded it into the shape of a heart. “We love you. You know that, right?”

You take the heart, kiss it, and put it in your pocket. “I do. I love you all, too. Thanks for understanding.”

[yourejinx]

Undeniable Bonds.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Genre: angst.

Warnings: mostly language.

Words: 3k or so.

Summary: Y/N and Azriel can't stand each other, despite the centuries working together they just don't seem to understand one another. Too many secrets are being kept. But that bond between them keeps pushing, demanding, making it impossible to ignore.

Author note: the summary sucks, I should work on it later.

Chapter One?

I could hardly see anything past the blinding white rage in my vision as I stalked through the streets of Velaris on my way back to the House of Wind. How dare he?!

“Is it business or pleasure?” Azriel purred maliciously, a dark smirk tugging at his lips. 

Rhys’s face went pale with stupor but he snapped out of it fast enough to stop me from snatching the Shadow singer’s eyeballs with my bare hands. 

He should have let me land that blow. Violet eyes turned soft on my face even as he commanded in all his Mighty High Lord voice for Azriel to get the fuck out. 

Fucking miserable Illyrian bastard. Breathing deeply through my nose I measured the distance between myself and the steps of the stairs up to the House, and then started sprinting for it. Maybe the aching of my lungs would numb the rising anger that occupied my thoughts.  

The sun was shining brightly in the sky by the time I reached the training zone. Cassian was already at it with a punching bag, hair loose, shirt already discarded and sweat dripping from his forehead. He kept shoving strands of hair that fell into his eyes out of the way in between punches, an exasperated huff leaving his parted lips. A prominent vein popped into his neck as a result of the effort and strength with which he was landing hit after hit, wings tucked in tight, he looked stressed. Tough night for the both of us then. 

 I approached him as silently as a wraith, not wanting to disturb his session and starting my stretchings. 

“You’re late.” He greeted me. He’d probably been up since before  dawn. 

“You can thank your brother for that.” I replied shifting my weight from one leg to the other. He stopped punching and grinned at me, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Which one?”

I rolled my eyes. “Which one do you think?”. 

“Az is giving you a hard time again, huh?”

“Isn’t he always? You know it was supposed to be a quick meeting, we had to report to Rhys about last week, take the new mission and leave. But of course Azriel had to be a huge pain in the ass again by pleading to leave me behind because I “complicate things”, which only means I do put to use my critical thinking and not just blindly follow his every command.”

Cass chuckled at my evident irritation with the Shadowsinger. “You know, Az can be entitled sometimes but he knows what he’s doing…listening to him from time to time can’t be that bad now, can it?”

“I know Cass, he’s Spy Master for a reason, I know he’s a great spy, but so am I. And he doesn’t seem to want to see it. I too have some good ideas, I’ve saved both our asses several times now, but he just won't acknowledge it. It is his way or the hard way every single time, I’m just tired of trying to prove myself to him.” 

The rich brown surrounding Cassian’s irises looks like molten chocolate in the late morning as his gaze softens on me. I hate to look vulnerable but I guess if it’s going to be in front of anyone, who better than Cass? This huge scary looking warrior that was actually just a big loving teddy bear. Cassian was my best friend, the one who knows my secrets and fears and desires and has never judged me or pitied me for it. Not once. 

"You don't need to prove anything. You've done more than enough time and time again, if he doesn't see it then he's a giant fool." 

“Thank gods I’ve got you, who would burst my ego like that if not you, huh?.”

He flashed one of his radiant smiles at me and I motioned for him to come closer. Once he stood in front of me I made him turn and sit at my feet, quickly grabbing hold of his locks and braiding his hair back. 

Cassian was one of the first ones to warm up to me and make me feel welcome besides Rhys. It was easy with him, always ready to make me laugh and help ease my process of adjusting to life in Velaris. He quickly became my best friend.

When I first got here I was stuck in the mountains for six whole years with Amren before I could even interact with the rest of the Inner Circle. A safety measure for all, of course, I was unstable in many ways after escaping that hideous place they call the Court of Nightmares. I needed space to heal, and to learn how to control my powers. Rhys came and went very often, he took the time to actually teach me how to put a leash on my power –being quite similar to his– and to bend it to my will, but it wasn’t until years later that I officially met everyone. It was awkward at first, I didn’t know much about socializing given that my only interactions were with the stoic Amren and even before that I’ve only ever met the cruelness of my family; but Mor was excited to see me again when Rhys brought me to Velaris and Cassian greeted me with a big fat grin and open arms. Azriel on the other hand…the spymaster had intrigued me since the very first moment we’d met, lurking in a corner, his shadows hovering over his shoulders and curling up to his head, hiding the lines of his beautiful face. Mesmerizing. He seemed intrigued as well at first, hazel eyes assessing me with intensity. I honestly don’t know when everything went downhill with him, but now we just can’t stand each other. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” I said after a couple of heartbeats had passed in silence between us.

“About what?”

“Uh-uh, not playing dumb with me.”

“Is this what we do now? braid each other’s hair and talk about our problems?” He tried to dismiss the subject by playing funny.  

“Well, you’re always pestering me to talk about my problems, so I figured I should do the same” I grinned down at him. 

“There was a time when we fixed our issues in other ways,” he said suggestively, waving his eyebrows.  

“If you want to get absolutely hammered at Rita’s I may be down to it, but not tonight. If I show up completely pissed tomorrow Azriel’s gonna lose it, and honestly I don’t want to deal with his bullshit for even a minute longer than necessary.” I hissed the last words as a sharp twinge of pain shot through my head. 

Cassian’s eyes fixed on my face, worry staining his golden orbs as he stood towering over me. He cupped my chin so that I was looking up at him now, his gaze falling to the dark circles under my eyes. 

“The nightmares again,” he stated more than questioned. “They can’t reach you here, dove.” His tone was softer. 

“I know, Cass. It wasn’t the nightmares this time, I’ve been…having these dreams of places that I don’t recognize, people that I don’t know and there’s always so much suffering. I wake up feeling drained of energy and totally confused. I don’t know what it means.”

Weird, blurry images of last night’s dream came flooding into my mind. Darkness and smoke, the ashy taste of fire filled my senses and made me dizzy. All I could see were the outlines of white hair and twirling swoops of black ink very similar to the tattoos on Cassian’s chest. An ancient language that I didn’t understand. 

“Maybe you should stop reading so many of those weird books of yours,” he smirked, easing the crease of my eyebrows “Have you been eating well?”

I shook out of my trance and stepped back out of his hold, adopting a fighting stance in the middle of the ring. “Enough of me anyways. What 's up with you? you seem stressed, did something happen with Nesta?” I said throwing the first punch, he dodged it.  

“No. I got into a fight with Devlon yesterday, he’s been playing us for fools and the females have not been training at all.” 

“You went to the Illyrian camps? I thought you were gonna wait for me, you know I love to spook the shit out of that misogynistic pig.” I grinned at him. 

“I was but then you had that mission with Az and then the meetings and reports, I just didn’t want to burden you any further. Besides, you’re rarely around these days. You know, for two people who supposedly can’t stand each other you spent an awful amount of time together.” He smirked. 

“Yeah well, we work together, it’s not like we have a choice. Though Azriel really puts in the effort to try and get rid of me.” 

“What did Rhys say?”

“That I was going on the mission and that was final.” 

Cass chuckled and some of the tension was lifted from my shoulders, his mere presence was comforting enough for me to relax a bit. I have had a massive headache all morning, I was barely able to concentrate on what Rhys was saying above the urging desire to bang my head against the nearest wall. 

"I can tell when you're not telling me something, you know? It's not just the weird dreams is it?" 

I sighed tiredly and dropped my arms to the side, clearly we weren't going to any further in training lest I spilled it all out for him. 

"Azriel suggested that I was having an affair with someone from the Hewn City, and while he was at it he also kind of accused me of treason." 

The General 's jaw tensed. He knew the Hewn City and anything remotely involved to that nightmare of a place has always been a touchy subject for me, being born as I was — a female with the power of a High Lord — meant an open invitation for challenge and dominance. It had cost me almost everything at a very young age. The mere suggestion that I may hold a secret agenda with the snakes that prowl around the power of the crown made my ire burn like a thousand suns. It also made me nauseous, I sure wasn't as horrible as Azriel made me out to be.

"Someone clearly needs to knock some sense into him." He gave me a look that promised trouble, rolling his toned shoulders and spreading his huge wings wide. 

"Forget it Cass, you said it yourself, I don't need to prove anything. Besides, Rhys knows the truth so I'm clear." 

He didn’t say anything else and just followed me back to the ring. Good. I have had enough of Azriel anyways. 

—----------------------------------------------------------

“I have a lead!” I said bursting through Rhysand’s office at the River House, arms full of maps with annotations. Lucien hot on my heels. 

The High Lord turned in his seat to take a look at me, then at Lucien and back at me, one dark eyebrow arched high in question. Mere seconds later I felt a talon slide gently across my mental shield, asking for permission. I granted him access. 

“Does Lucien know what this is all about?” his voice sounded in my head. 

“Just that I’ve been hunting down a group of slavers. He offered some insight when he saw me looking for connections between Spring and Night Courts.” 

It wasn’t entirely a lie, we have been investigating the disappearance of fae females for the past year now, I had first noticed it one night when I was sneaking some of them out of the Hewn City to a Shelter in the outskirts of Velaris. Only Rhys and I knew about it. I just couldn’t leave those poor women to suffer as I had in that horrible place, but it was too risky, and as much as Rhys has been doing some political changes concerning the Night Court, it still was a very complex matter. So we investigated thoroughly about whom we would be bringing to our home. Just a few at a time, Rhys had said, we can’t risk bringing spying eyes here, and a large group of females vanishing into the night will certainly attract Kier’s attention back to us. 

A couple of months ago, the group I was supposed to escort out went missing. There wasn’t a whisper of them in the entirety of the Court of Nightmares, and the female servants were too afraid to speak. I just knew someone had been watching me, it had been a warning and a message. Stay out of our business. 

He nodded, then spoke out loud. “What did you find?” 

“Well I think they may be using the remnants of the Spring Court as some sort of Warehouse or… storage.” 

The thought alone of what those faeries may be enduring down there had my hands curling into fists, knuckles going white. “Since Tamlin’s left there aren't really many rules standing, his people have been barely subsisting; it is not that uncommon that in times of need people tend to turn against their own.” 

Lucien’s face was grim, probably remembering what had happened and his role in it. He blinked twice, then said, “they could be using the rivers and the caves to get in and out without being noticed” he offered; “just like I used to do to get out of Autumn. I marked the rivers that flow closest to the caves and the closest villages. People may know something, maybe they'll turn their eyes from it if it’s convenient for them.” 

Rhysand leaned forward, studying the maps and annotations closely. “Good work, Y/N, Lucien. This is a start. We need to investigate this further and put a stop to it before more fae are taken.”

I nodded, feeling a sense of determination settle within me. We couldn't let this go on any longer. No more innocent lives taken or families torn apart.

I knew I was taking some risks with this, but I also knew that we couldn't let fear stop us from doing what was right. I would do whatever it takes to end this.

“We need to find out everything we can about this operation and shut it down. I can gain some time and winnow there tonight, for some ground recognition.” 

Rhysand stood up from his desk, tired and with a look of wariness written on his face, “ I would wait until Azriel returns from his meeting, then you can go together.” 

“I can very well do this on my own, Rhys. I’m not stupid and I’m very capable of taking care of myself.” I argued back. 

He looked reluctant at first, but he loosened a breath and said “I know you can. Lay low, gather whatever information you can but do not engage until Azriel arrives, understood? I’ll be sending him tomorrow morning.” 

“Fine” I said, rolling my eyes. But he went on, in that brotherly voice that always got me following his commands. 

“And be careful, we don't know what kind of forces we're dealing with here.”

I nodded and gave him a small smile. As we left the office, I couldn't help but think about Azriel. He would be on this mission with me, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that. But, for the sake of the mission and the fae that had been taken, we had to put our differences aside and work together.

“Thank you, Lucien” I said, fully facing the Autumn male, “I know you wouldn’t reveal information that could be used against your friend or his court. So thank you, for trusting me with this.” 

He seemed rather surprised for a second, eyes shining in the dim light,  but then a smirk cut on his lips. “I trust  you, little raven, I thought I’ve made that clear.” 

I smiled back at him. “Well yeah, but thank you anyways, I know you don’t get to hear those words around here very often.” I teared my gaze away from him into the open night beyond. I should leave soon. 

“I won’t keep you from your duties much longer” He said, shoving back a few strands of that auburn hair that had loosened from where he had pinned them to the side. “Stay safe Y/N, and if you thank me again you better start bowing next time” Lucien flashed a foxy grin as he started walking towards the house. 

I couldn’t help the chuckle from leaving my lips. “As you wish, good night Prince Charming.” 

I heard his breathy laugh even as I winnowed out of the city.  

—----------------------------------------------------------

The morning sun was rising over the horizon, casting a warm glow over the lush greenery of the Spring Court border. I was standing just outside the small inn I booked for the night, waiting for Azriel to arrive. I hadn’t found anything particularly shady last night, yet I couldn't help but feel uneasy about it. The whole village felt out of place. 

Azriel arrived on his shadow wings, landing gracefully in front of me. His black wings contrasted sharply with the bright blue sky, making him look even more intimidating than usual. "Let's go," he said curtly, motioning for me to follow him.

“Good morning to you too” I murmured under my breath; if he heard it or not he didn’t tell. 

We flew over the sprawling countryside, searching for any sign of the illegal trade. After hours of fruitless searching, we landed in a small village. The villagers looked tired and scared, their faces etched with worry lines. I made to approach one of the villagers and ask if they knew anything about people going missing these days.

The villager shook his head. "We don't know anything about it. Our High Lord abandoned us a few months ago, and we've been struggling to survive ever since. Some have left for other courts, it is not unusual to find this place so quiet."

That was a fact, I had spotted caravans moving across Prythian as I traveled through the courts. Entire families leaving their homeland behind in search of a better chance at survival. This place once full of life was really starting to look like an abandoned graveyard, drying lands and growing thorn bushes taking place. Where the hell had Tamlin gone?

Azriel's face darkened with anger. "This was a waste of time," he muttered. "We should never have come here."

A twinge of guilt crept up my spine. I knew it was a blind shot to try and find them here, but other than the utter state of abandonment of this court, I still had the feeling that something was off. There was this wrongness in the air. 

I dared another look in the direction of the villager but he was already gone. Weird. If Azriel wanted to leave then fine, I’ll investigate further on my own. 

Hours later as I walked through the village, I noticed a pair of eyes staring at me, following me around in the shadows. At first I thought Azriel had sent his shadows after me but…it didn’t feel like him. I neared the edge of a dense wood and turned to approach those watching cold eyes, my right hand flying to the hilt of the dagger strapped to my thigh. They seemed to narrow in silent mockery and as I stepped through the bushes I was met with nothing but a lingering darkness. What in hell had that been? 

I returned to the village, searching for Azriel, to tell him what I had seen. "There's definitely something going on here."

Azriel sighed, “I’ll tell you what’s going on here” he started coolly, “Their fucking coward of a High Lord bailed on his own people and now they’re trying to survive with the little they have left still standing, there are probably shadow markets functioning across the court for those who still remain and try to sell their goods for food. They don’t need two Night Court scouts snooping around their business so no one here is going to talk. That's what is happening here. No signs of your supposed “group of slavers”. People leave on their own accord to avoid starvation.”  

He stared down his nose at me “Are you done playing your stupid game here? I told you we should have headed for Autumn. Now let’s go, we need to report back to Rhysand; I’ll love to hear how you will explain to him that you wasted both our time and his resources on a hunch.” 

I didn’t want to show him that his words had sting, that it still affected me how little trust he had in me, in my capability, but my mouth went faster than my gathering thoughts:  

"Why do you have to be such an asshole to me all the time?", my temper quickly rising to the surface, undoubtedly twisting my face in anger, sliping past my usual mask of boredness. 

“Someone has to tell you the truth to your face at last.”

“What does that mean?” I said almost snarling at his cocky face. 

“It means you’re not as good as you think you are, and no one seems to want to acknowledge it. I think Rhys spoils you too much. He handles everything on a silver platter for you and you rejoice in the riches of it like you’ve earned it. You're not his fucking sister! No one can ever replace her, what you're doing it's just awful. And he's so damn blind to it.”

Every word felt like a dagger to my heart. I've rather had him skin me alive than to hear those words again. Of course I wasn't Rhys's sister, although I do love him like a brother, but I hadn't meant in any way to come off as a replacement for her. It just felt right, to be a part of a family for once that I hadn't thought twice about my relationship with Rhysand. Does he feel like he needs to cover my needs just because he couldn’t do it with her before? Because he feels guilty? Has he been giving tasks just to excuse the amount of money he pays me? 

I stumbled one step, two steps back away from him. From his space, so dense and thick with loathing it was suffocating. I leashed my anger, spiraling down into that pit of numbness I was so familiar with as I said, with a face as blank and unreadable as his own, “I’ll give him the full report. And don’t worry, I’ll pay him back every last copper that I know I owe to him if it means I’ll never have to see you again.” 

It was the venom laced in her voice that had Azriel backing off this time, a twinge of pain and guilt flashing in his eyes but she had already winnowed away. 

[taintedcries]

✧ ҉ㅤ| mercy can you forgive me? [dazai osamu]

Ⳋ᧙.:*♡ destroy my mind, tear my heart anew—for you occupy all the space in my mind even the darkest place, and we know this is unhealthy. continuation of this

It's been a couple of days since you've gotten together with Dazai, you guys would usually sleep together in the same bed.

Usually because now he's been leaving the room in the middle of the night, at first you didn't have much of a problem with it, figuring he was probably going out to get water or something.

.... But, he's been doing this often. You wonder where he goes when he leaves, does he go and embrace other people in the dark of night? Far from your comfort? Did he lose interest perhaps? Maybe you've shown him too much and he decided you weren't interesting anymore..?

You don't know, but all you know is that you hate it, hate having him far away from you, hate him for daring to leave you alone in the night with no explanation.

But, what you don't know is that Dazai has been paranoid for your safety ever since you both got together, he's been having nightmares lately, of, well—you—in danger.

He's been leaving the comfort of your room to take a walk out and maybe check if there's any enemies nearby.. Or so he says but really, he just doesn't want you to see him at his lowest of low

He's glad you've been patient with him but he doesn't know how long it'll last,

Maybe one day he'll tell you why he keeps leaving in the middle of the night. He hopes you don't think it's because of you, but, well in a sense it is. It's not your fault though, it's whoever keeps giving him these nightmares fault.

Though, maybe he won't be able to tell you anymore.

⠀⠀ 𝟅𝟈　︶︶　⠀🪷⠀　︶︶　𝟅𝟈

The next couple of days were hell as he had seemed to inherit some kind of sleep paralysis and started to see things coming for you as he lay there useless, limbs frozen. In his head you have died a hundred times in a thousand different ways. As soon as his sleep paralysis dissipated, he bolted out of the bed. He decided if he has to suffer sleep paralysis he will suffer them alone, so they can’t get to you.

He woke up several mornings in a row to a sight of you on the sofa, feet hanging off the edge, blankets in disarray. His eyes flicker to your face, eyes swollen with tear marks on your cheeks. The suffocating pressure on his chest burst, he had to control the urge to just scream his lungs out. This is too much. You won’t even get in bed with him now.

Has he turned into that big of a disappointment?

“Not enough for you anymore, aren’t I?”

“What?”

He didn’t even bother to sit down, a failure of a human being like him doesn’t get luxuries like sitting down next to you.

“You don’t even come to bed anymore.” He answers bluntly.

“You don’t even stay in bed Dazai.” His lips parted for a moment, but he quickly thought of a reason.

“I always wake up earlier than you.”

You roll your eyes. His heart dropped. You had never done that to him before, he had only seen you roll your eyes at strangers. “Yes. But you don’t stay. You don’t even make me tea anymore, Dazai.”

The rest of his already brittle heart turns to dust as he hears what you have to say.

. . .

“Why don’t we just take a break from each other?” His eyes widened for a split second before he hung his head low. He clenches his fist as he shakes, he could feel tears brimming at the corner of his eye, threatening to come out.

—no, not you too.

But only silence answers.

dont ask me what timeline this is set at, not even i know and im the writer..

anyways @popkinpop haiii pooks i finished it.. :3c (i am about to pass out any second now)

[therealcocoshady]

Ok sorry for blowing up your asks, but I have one that might be right up your angsty alley…

Marshall is having a particularly hard time on one of the anniversaries of Proof’s passing…🕊️ He’s super vulnerable with reader and she has to comfort him 😔🥺

DIFFICULT 🕊️

Eminem x Assistant Reader

Synopsis : Em is nowhere to be found as you're waiting for him for an important meeting. Turns out... It's the anniversary of Proof's passing and he needs you.

Tags : Vulnerability - Grief - Angst - Comfort

Author's Note : Thank you for this Ask ! I low-key love that you thought of me when it comes to angsty requests 👀. I got inspired and ended up writing quite a bit but I'm afraid it's all over the place. I hope you like it nonetheless. ❤️

Do you know where he is ? Paul asked, visibly unnerved. He should already be here ! 

He’s coming, you assured the manager. I reminded him of this meeting on Friday, don’t worry, he’s going to show up. 

It’s your job to make sure he shows up on time, Y/N, Paul added sternly. That’s what personal assistants are for. 

He’s never late, you said. I’m sure there’s a good reason. Something must have come up… 

It was unlike Marshall to show up late to a work meeting, especially when it involved music. In the past year, since you had started working for him, he had never shown up late anywhere. If anything, he was a bit neurotic about punctuality. « Early is on time, on time is late » he always said. And when it came to anything regarding his latest album, he tended to show up extremely early, polishing details up until the last minute. Except that, today, he was almost thirty minutes late and you were facing Paul and Dre on your own, and there was only so much small talk you could make. 

Look, if the album’s not ready for me to listen to yet, you guys just have to say so, Dre said. 

No, it is, Paul assured him. I mean, you know Marshall, he’s always trying to polish and tweak little things, but we have a version that’s more than ready for you. We wouldn’t have you come from LA otherwise… 

I’ll try an call him, you said. 

You got up and went to your office. You were starting to be a little freaked out. You didn’t want to be dramatic, but you were starting to feel scared that something terrible had happened. One time, he got into a car crash and was not even that late. Thirty minutes late for Marshall was basically four hours late for anyone else. You got out of the room and tried to call him, but he didn’t pick up. Had he lost his phone ? You knew he hated the iPhone you had convinced him to buy - to replace his more than ancient Blackberry - and he used it as little as possible, but him losing anything was unlikely. And he knew about this meeting. You had specifically reminded him of it. He wouldn’t show up late to a meeting with Dre. He had way too much respect for the man. You nervously checked his iCloud calendar, thinking that maybe he was confused about the time. Unlikely but not impossible either. You remembered adding the event « Meeting with Dre - ALBUM VERSION 1 » for this Monday, 9:00 AM a while ago. But it was nowhere to be found. Had it been accidentally deleted ? Had you dropped the ball ? No. Impossible. Not to toot your own horn, but you wouldn’t screw up like that. It was probably a bug. You checked the week’s other events. Deleted too. You knew he had other meetings and studio sessions planned, but they did not appear on the calendar. Weird. Especially since last week’s event were still appearing, and the following week’s too. It looked like someone had cleared this week’s schedule and you knew it wasn’t you. It had to be Marshall, then, since he was the only other person to have access to his calendar. You were worried. He would not clear a whole week’s schedule, especially not when he was nearly done with his album. Something had to have happened. Something awful, by the looks of it. Your mind immediately went to his family. They were the only people he would clear his schedule for. You decided to call Hailie, hoping that nothing awful had happened to her or her sisters. 

Hey Y/N, you heard her soft voice say as she picked up the phone. How are you ? 

Hey Hailie, you said nervously. Are you alright ? 

All good, she said. Why ? Are you ok ? Is there anything wrong ? 

Um… I don’t know, you said. I'm trying to reach your Dad. Have you heard of him ? 

Not since Thursday, I think. He told me he was spending the weekend with you. What’s wrong ? 

He’s just a little late to a meeting, you said as you tried to sound casual. I was worried that something had happened to you, your sisters, Nate… 

No, we’re all good, she said reassuringly. Look, I’m in Chicago, but I can try and call him… 

Don’t worry about it, you said. Enjoy Chicago.

Thank you ! See you ! 

Hailie didn’t seem too worried, so there was at least that. However, you were a little bugged off. You absolutely had not spent the weekend with Marshall and, frankly, you were a bit shocked that he had lied to his daughter about it. Not that you never spent the weekend together - in the past six months, it had happened quite a bit - but he was not the type to lie to his daughter. It was odd that he would use you as a lie, especially since your relationship - if you could call it that - was still in the developing stage. As far as Hailie was concerned, you were the closest thing her Dad had to a girlfriend but, in actuality, it was a bit more complicated. It wasn’t necessarily serious or committed, and there most certainly wasn’t any label on it. You were his personal assistant, whom he occasionally fooled around with. The only reason Hailie saw you as his girlfriend was that she had walked in on the two of you making out with very, very few clothes on. Thank God, she was an adult and didn’t really want to know anything about it. No one ever mentioned the incident but she assumed there was something between you and Marshall. And there was. In a way. But he wasn’t really the kind of guy to put a label on it and you knew it. He was extremely guarded and, even though you knew you were one of the people closest to him, you didn’t expect much. He was a really great boss, amazing man and more than satisfactory lover, but you knew him enough to know it would never evolve into anything serious. « I don’t do relationships, you know » he had once told you. And you didn’t mind. You enjoyed things just the way they were. The way you saw it, the sex you sometimes had - usually on work trips or late nights - was a perk to your job, along with the generous salary and health benefits. But regardless of all that, him lying about spending the weekend with you was extremely odd. You tried calling him again, but were sent straight to voicemail. You sheepishly went back to the conference room. 

Did you talk to him ? Paul asked. 

No news, you said. That’s odd. I’ll go to his place and if he’s not there, I’ll try the hospitals. I’m sorry. 

I hope he’s ok, Dre said. Keep us posted ? 

Of course. 

You made your way to your car and drove to his place. Security knew your car and plates and saw you often enough to let you through the gates. You parked in front of Marshall’s house and immediately noticed that the car he used the most was parked out front. He was home. Thank God, you didn’t have to worry about a car crash. You rang the bell but no one came to open it. Maybe he had slipped in the shower and injured his head ? Or fallen down the stairs ? No. You often joked about him being older but he wasn’t geriatric either. Still, you were worried so you used your spare key and let yourself in. 

The house was unusually dark and messy. You checked downstairs, the living room, kitchen, office… It was messy, like someone had rummaged through things, but Marshall was nowhere to be found. You tried every room upstairs, every closet, every bedroom, but he wasn’t there either. You decided to try the only remaining space you hadn’t checked : the basement (you doubted he was in the garage - he liked his cars but not enough to cancel a meeting about music). That’s where you found him : in one of the dimly lit rooms he had converted into a home music studio, laying on the carpet, eyes closed, headphones on his head. You gasped and almost thought he was dead. You immediately rushed to his side and checked his breath. As soon as you approached, he slowly opened his eyes and groaned. 

Marshall, are you alright ? You asked. Are you hurt ? 

No, he said in a raspy voice before sitting up. 

You examined his face : he looked like a zombie, or at least like someone who had forgotten what sleep and food were. And judging by the smell, he had also forgotten about showers. You usually enjoyed his masculine scent but now he was smelling as rank as a teenage boy addicted to video games. 

What are you doing here ? He asked. 

I came to check you weren’t dead, you said. You missed the meeting with Dre. Paul is furious. 

Wait… What day is it ? He asked in confusion. 

Monday, you said. April 12th. 

Fuck. 

He rubbed his eyes and scratched his beard, and you inspected him closer. His eyes were bloodshot, with huge dark circles. The beard he usually kept well-trimmed was all over the place, so was his short hair, and his breath smelled of energy drink. He had always had a penchant for soda and Redbull, but it usually wasn’t to the point of smelling like a candy factory. Well, if you added the smell of sweat, it was more like someone who ran a marathon in the Redbull factory. Marshall looked at you without saying a word. 

Are you alright ? You asked. 

Does it look like I’m alright ? He groaned. 

Not really, you admitted - not really knowing what to say. 

Why are you ask, then ?

If you hadn’t been so worried, you would have snapped at him for behaving like an ass, but it wasn’t him. You sighed and looked at the CDs he’d been listening to : « Searching for Jerry Garcia » and « I Miss the Hip Hop Shop » by Proof. That’s when it hit you : today was April 12th and April 11th was the anniversary of his best friend’s passing. The both of you were sitting on the carpet, not saying a word. He knew that you knew. 

Do you… Um… Want to talk about it ? You asked tentatively. 

I need a shower, he said. 

Yes he did. He definitely did. You got up and waited for him to do the same but he simply groaned as he tried to move. You gave him your hand and helped him up as he let out a moan and held his back. You wondered how long he’d been laying there, listening to music and losing track of time. He seemed to have trouble even standing up. « God, he must be exhausted », you thought. 

Need help ? You asked. 

Y-Yeah, he said. 

Shower ? 

Yeah. 

Without a word, you helped him to the nearest bathroom where he started undressing without even waiting for you to leave. You could feel your cheeks burn. You’d seen him naked before, sure, but this different than the two of you shedding your clothes in a passionate moment. Now, you had the feeling of seeing something you weren’t supposed to. It felt a bit weird. You watched him step in the shower and went upstairs, to his closet, to pick some clothes for him to wear. You grabbed boxers, some sweatpants, a wife beater and a hoodie and put them in the bathroom, near the sink before opening the windows to let in some light and fresh air, as you tidied up a bit. You’d spent some time in his house before but you had never seen the place this messy. 

Thanks for the clothes, Marshall said as he emerged from the bathroom. 

Feeling better ? You asked. 

Yeah.

When was the last time you showered ? You asked. 

I don’t know, he shrugged. 

Last time you ate ? 

Fri…Sat… I don’t know, he replied. 

He seemed gaunt and, even if the shower seemed to have done some good, Marshall seemed like a corpse. He was standing there, staring at you, not extremely responsive. You had never seen him like this and it was definitely a far cry from his usual self. Ever since you had met him for the first time, you had found him to have an impressive presence. Whenever he walked into a room, he naturally drew attention to him and he had such charisma that he seemed bigger than he actually was. But for the first time, he looked weak and lost. 

Are you hungry ? You asked. 

A bit, he replied. 

Sit, you said. I’ll prepare something. What do you want ? Pasta ? 

Whatever, he said. 

He sat on the couch and you made your way to the kitchen. Being the one responsible for his shopping, you knew the pantry like the back of your hand and knew exactly what was in there. You decided to make some homemade spaghetti, using Mom’s Spaghetti sauce with homemade garlic toasts. His lazy comfort food. When you brought his plate to the living room, he was manspreading, looking at the ceiling. 

Thanks, he said as you handed him the food. Chips would have been enough, you know ? 

You need to eat a real meal, you simply said. 

He nodded and started to eat. You noticed he was avoiding your gaze. He usually didn’t have much trouble maintaining eye contact, except for when he was ashamed, or sad, or tired. In this case, you knew it was probably a mixture of everything. There was no doubt as to his exhaustion and sadness, and you knew he would feel ashamed for missing an important work meeting. You looked at him and left the room to go and call Paul. 

So ? He asked. How is he ? 

He’s… sick, you lied, knowing full well Marshall wouldn’t want you telling people how you had found him. 

Sick ? The managed asked. What does he have ? 

The flu, you said. It’s pretty nasty. I cleared up his schedule for the week. He needs rest. He’s really sorry about the meeting. 

Alright. I’ll call him later, he said. Dre has to leave today, we’ll have to set up another meeting. 

I’ll let him know. 

You also texted Hailie to let her know you had managed to get ahold of her Dad. When you got back to Marshall, he was looking at a picture frame of him and Proof. From the looks of it, you guessed it was from 2005-2006. You sat next to him in silence. 

The flu ? He asked in a raspy voice. 

Couldn’t come up with anything better on the spot, you said. At least, it buys you the rest of the week so you can rest. 

No need, he said. I can… I can work. 

Bullshit, you sighed. 

He stared in your eyes for the first time all day and sighed. His eyes went back to the picture frame and you could see hum swallow dryly. 

Went was this taken ? You asked. 

March 2006, he said in a breaking voice. It’s the last picture of him I have… 

His breath was shaky and you could tell he was on the verge if tears. You placed a hand over his and gently stroked his skin. 

It’s ok to cry, you know ? You said softly. 

You weren’t too sure why you said that. Of course it was ok to cry. A man in his fifties, especially your boss, did not need your permission to cry. Or so you thought. Because as soon as the words left your lips, the tears started to flow and he started sobbing. You put a hand on his back and tried to soothe him while you saw his face redden and scrunch up, his tears wetting his face. It was painful seeing him like this and you wished there was something you could do. If that were possible, you would gladly take his pain and make it yours. 

Fu-fuck, I-I’m sorry, he said after a while. 

You have nothing to apologize for, you said gently. It’s ok. He was your best friend. It’s ok to be sad. 

I-I fucked up…

It’s just a work meeting, you reminded him. We’ll set up another meeting with Dre, I’ll move a couple of appointments, it’s fine. 

No, not… I-I…

He was trying to speak but he wasn’t making much sense. He was stuttering, his voice cracking, changing pitch… You put your arms around him, half-expecting him to push you away but he didn’t. You kept running a hand up and down his back to soothe him a bit and it seemed effective. 

Thank you, Y/N, he said. 

Were you like this all weekend ? You asked. 

Yeah… 

Is that why you told Hailie I was spending the weekend with you ? 

I… Yeah, he said sheepishly. I didn’t want the kids to see me like this. 

I see, you said. So… what ? You listened to his music, looked at pictures and lost track of time ? 

I guess, he shrugged. I… I tried to go to his grave yesterday but it was packed. 

I guess a lot of people miss him, you said. 

No, it was… I saw them and they were wearing… My tee-shirts. My merch. They were my fans. On his grave. And it drove me fucking mad. Because I couldn’t even get out of my car, and I had to see these people pay respect but they were fans. They didn’t know him. And I saw the posts on social media. And people keep on making it about me. 

His voice broke again. You had often had conversations with him about fame and how he was dealing with it. Most of the time, he was grateful for it, though he often gave the impression that he didn’t really get why he was famous and how people could look up to him so much. « It’s just me », he often said. Deep down, he only saw himself as a guy trying to make it in hip-hop, trying to be the best emcee. Fame was never really part of his plan, though he was grateful for the success and love of people granted him. But the way he was speaking, it seemed like less of a blessing and more of a curse. He explained to you that he felt guilty for people making Proof’s death about him. Sure, he was his best friend, but he was so much more, and he just wished people would respect his legacy and everything he meant to the hip-hop culture. He also felt guilty when he thought about Proof’s family, who didn’t only have to deal with a tragic loss but also his own fame, and always being asked questions about him. 

His wife… She always hated me, you know ? He said. She hated all of us. Proof was never home, always either getting in trouble with us or trying to keep us out of it. Now we don’t speak too much and… I mean, I get it, I was his friend, not hers, but… I don’t know. I was supposed to be an uncle to his kids, you know ? I’m supposed to be there for them, not make things difficult. I’m supposed to be the one sending flowers, not receiving them in their place. 

Do you keep in touch ? You asked. 

I try, he said. I mean, if the kids need something, they know they can call. Sharonda too. She never would, she’s too proud but… Yeah, I just wish I could do more, you know ? 

I know, you said. You shouldn’t feel guilty… 

No, I should, he shrugged. When he died, I was a massive asshole about it… I mean, I guess I made it a lot about me. But now it makes me so mad. And sad. And I miss him so much and I just wish I could apologize to him. 

For what ? You asked as you stroked his hand. 

Everything, he shrugged. For being ungrateful and not seeing everything he did to hold down the fort. Proof… He was strong when I was weak. And I never got to tell him how thankful I am. If it weren’t for him, I’d still be making burgers. 

I’m sure he knew how much you loved him, you said softly. 

I hope, he said. He was everything to me… Like… We didn’t love each other like that, you know. Like, no homo or whatever. But sometimes I think he was the love of my life. In a platonic way. Like, he was my other half, the one who made me a better person. And now that he’s gone… I’m just me. And it’s hard. 

You’re still pretty great, you said. And I know he would be proud of you. 

I… I don’t know, he said. 

He seemed lost in his thoughts. You realized you had been stroking his back the whole time and stopped. He turned to you with his eyebrows furrowed and he didn’t even have to ask for you to resume. It was the first time the two of you had such a prolonged physical contact without it being sexual and you wondered if he noticed, too. He closed his eyes and you looked at him some more. He was clearly exhausted and you weren’t too sure how long he would need to sleep. Probably a long time. 

You should go to bed, you said softly. 

I guess, he shrugged. 

You need rest, you insisted. I’ll do the dishes and go home, ok ? You can call me if you need anything. 

Can you stay ? He asked nervously. I… I don’t feel like being… alone. 

Sure, you said with a hint of surprise. 

Ok. 

He got up and headed upstairs. When he noticed you weren’t following him, he turned to you with a raised eyebrow. 

You don’t want to come ? 

Upstairs ? You asked with your eyebrows furrowed. To your… room ? 

You said I needed to sleep, he pointed out. I’m not sleeping on the damn couch. 

You shrugged and followed him. That was new. You had slept over a couple of times, but never in the same bed as him. The only circumstances in which you had seen his bedroom were strictly sexual. But as soon as the deed was done, he wouldn’t sleep in the same bed as you. And even when you had slept with him during work trips, you’d been back to your own room after. It was one of the many ways in which he could be guarded and you knew it had nothing to do with you. He just had his quirky, peculiar ways. He got in bed and looked at you intently. 

Come, he said. 

Ok, you said as you sat next to him. 

Remove your socks, he instructed. 

I’m not removing my socks, you said. My feet are cold. 

You’re not getting in my bed with your dirty socks, he pointed out. 

I just put them on this morning, you said. They’re not dirty. 

It’s a pet peeve, he said. Just… Socks off, ok ? And get under the covers. 

You scoffed. If he was in a good enough state to be oddly specific - as he often was about practically everything in his life - it was a good sign. You took your socks off and sat in bed, under the covers. It felt weird but Marshall didn’t seem to pick on it. He simply laid there and stared at you. 

You’re not laying down ? He finally asked. 

Um… Sitting is fine, you said. 

Can you lie down, please ? He asked. 

You looked at him with a raised eyebrow but still did as you were told. As soon as you laid down next to him, he closed his eyes. Given how exhausted he looked, you half-expected him to fall asleep right then and there but he didn’t. Instead, he kept on tossing and turning. 

What’s up ? You asked. Do you need anything ? 

I think it’s the Redbull, he said. I haven’t drank much else in days. It’s keeping me awake. 

Oh, you said. Let’s talk, then. 

About what ? He asked. 

I don’t know, you shrugged. We can talk about anything. What’s up with the cleared schedule on iCloud ? Did you do that ? 

Yeah… I don’t know, he said sheepishly. I… I went to the cemetery yesterday and when I couldn’t go and had to go home, I guess I lost it. There were these thoughts in my head and… I’m not sure I can do it anymore. Without Proof it’s… too hard. 

Tears were welling in his eyes again. It had been more than fifteen years since Proof’s passing and Marshall had put out quite a few albums in that time, but the wound still seemed fresh. It wasn’t a matter of his technical ability to do it without Proof - of course he could - it was about whether or not he wanted to. 

Ok, you said. 

Ok ? He asked. 

What do you want me to say ? You asked. Do you want me to plead for you to keep going ? I’m not going to. If you want to quit and retire, that’s ok, you’re allowed. 

Really ? 

I mean… Yeah, you said simply. It’s your decision. If you think you don’t have anything else to bring to the table, that’s fine. You’ve had a good run and a career people can only dream of having. If you decide to put an end to it, that’s fine. 

Wait… No, he said. I mean, your job is to talk me out of it. Is that some reverse psychology thing ? 

It’s Paul’s job to talk you out of it, you clarified. Me, I’m just a personal assistant. My job is to manage your schedule and make life easier for you. Whether or not you put out music, my job’s fine as long as you need me to do your shopping, come to football games with you and remind you of your dentist’s appointments. Next one is in two months by the way. 

He chuckled and you couldn’t help but smile. His face was still puffy and he still didn’t look his best, but hearing him laugh - however lightly - was good. He was a great person and you hated seeing him like this. Of all the people you had ever met, he was the one who had suffered the most, and deserved it the least. He was a good, hardworking, honest and generous man, on top of being one of the most talented people ever. His sadness was breaking your heart. If his career was making him sad, if keeping on going without Proof was too hard, he should be allowed to quit. He had earned it and, in your opinion, he didn’t have anything left to prove to anyone. 

So you don’t care whether I end my career or not ? He asked with an amused look. 

As a fan, I think it would be tragic, you said. Especially If you don’t put out that last album. It’s your best work so far. But as a person… What I care about is you, Marshall. I’m in the front row, seeing how hard you work every day. If you say that’s too hard, then that’s too hard and I trust you on that. If you think you’ll be happier doing something else, just enjoying life with your family and focusing on your charity, you should do that. 

Proof would kick my ass for thinking of quitting, he said pensively. 

I think Proof would want you to be happy, you pointed out. 

He hummed and looked at you. He brought a hand to your face and stroked your face as a single tear rolled on his cheek. You smiled and wiped the tear, letting your hand cup his face. You stared at each other in silence. It was unusual but, oddly enough, not uncomfortable. 

Thank you for staying, Y/N, he simply said before letting out a small yawn. 

You should really try and get some sleep, you replied softly. 

He nodded and closed his eyes as you heard him take deep breaths. A couple of minutes later, he was asleep. You could hear him snore lightly. You looked at your phone to check the time. It was only 1PM. You figured you’d stay there for a while and let him sleep while you answered a couple of e-mails. After a couple of hours, Marshall was still sleeping soundly. You thought you might as well do some tidying up in the house, but as soon as you tried to move, you felt his arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him. You smiled to yourself as you realized it was the first time you actually cuddled with him - and you enjoyed it more than you probably should. Your back was against his chest and you could feel his heartbeat. This and the sensation of his arm around you were incredibly soothing and you allowed yourself to close your eyes for a minute.

(…)

Marshall groaned as you gently shook his shoulder to try and wake him up. He scrunched up his nose and let out a few obscenities. He looked pissed off as he opened his eyes. 

What time is it ? He groaned. 

About 7PM, you said. 

You better have a good reason to wake me up, he sighed. 

I think I do. You have clothes on your bed and ten minutes to get changed, ok ? 

I’m not getting dressed, and I’m not going out, he said with an eye roll. 

And I’m not giving you a choice, you said with a smile. Get up. Please. You won’t regret it. 

You made your way downstairs and prepared a bottle of water and a snack for Marshall as you waited for him. When he arrived, he looked a bit puzzled. He was still clearly tired but he looked a lot better. You made him get in your car and drove to the cemetery. You had called ahead of time and asked if they would do you a favor and keep the place open for a couple more hours. You used the « Marshall Mathers » card, which always worked when it came to getting a table at a fancy restaurant, borrowing a private jet or keeping a store open when Marshall needed to shop for his daughters’ birthday. 

What are we doing here ? He asked as you parked out front.

You know what we’re doing here, you said. It’s after hours and you get to pay your respects in peace. 

You… You arranged for this ?

I did, you said. They’ll be open until 8:30PM. I’m sorry, I didn’t find a florist open, though. 

He looked at you in shock and immediately engulfed you in a hug before whispering a « thank you » in your ear before getting out of the car. An hour later, you were leaning on the hood of your car, smoking a cigarette when Marshall came back. He seemed more at peace. You could tell he had cried - as people often do when they’re visiting someone’s grave - but he seemed alright nonetheless. He walked up to you and took you by surprise by kissing you. Contrary to all the kisses you’d shared until now, this one wasn’t greedy, hungry or passionate. It was tender and soft. Intimate and emotional. 

A-Are you alright ? You asked. 

Yeah, he hummed. Thank you for taking me. 

You’re welcome, you said with a smile. 

Ready to go ? He asked. 

Almost, you said as you pointed to your cigarette - knowing full well the hatred he had of your smoking habit. 

The drive home was a bit weird. You had kissed before but this felt different. You had always enjoyed his kisses but this one was, by far, your favorite. You felt a little guilty for enjoying it so much. If you were honest with yourself, it was a little scary, too. The only reason you had managed not to catch feelings for Marshall was because he was usually guarded and there were a lot of boundaries. But after today, after seeing him this open and vulnerable, you weren’t too sure you could go back to having casual sex with him. It would be too dangerous. 

Did you know Proof’s family would be there ? He asked as you parked in front of his place. 

Were they ? You asked in surprise. No, I didn’t. 

The cemetery must have called them, then, he shrugged. 

I’m sorry, you said. I insisted that you have your privacy… 

It’s fine, he said. I talked to Sharonda. Nasaan was here too. 

How did it go ? 

Pretty well, he said. I’m seeing them later this week. Over dinner. 

That’s great, you replied with a smile. I’m happy for you. 

Thank you Y/N, he said emotionally. For everything you always do for me. I mean, I wouldn’t be able to get through life without you. You put up with me, you make life bearable… And… Thank you for today, especially. 

You’re welcome, you said with a small smile. 

He cupped your face and kissed you again. You leaned into the kiss more than you should. A part of you knew that you should push him away… But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Not after he had such a hard day. So you kissed him back and enjoyed the sensation of his tongue caressing yours, of his fingers in your hair. 

Now, you should go and get some rest, you said softly. 

Are you coming ? He asked as he stroked your cheek. 

Do you need me ? 

Y/N… I always need you. 

And just like that… You knew you were screwed. You felt an army of butterflies in your stomach and your brain was nowhere to be found. It had left the chat as soon as you heard Marshall’s soft voice say he needed you. You were unable to think so your emotions took over as you exited the car and got inside the house, his hand in yours. 

[nondualiber]

guys, guys, gUYS. SUCCESS STORY THERE!!

first of all, this happened like a week ago or something. okay, so, i'm going to keep this short. i was in some sort of "manifesting block", i was OVER complicating things, my mindset sucked, blah blah blah blah. that's essentially the reason i wasn't posting (and will continue to not be, probably); because i was focusing on my life and actually manifesting new stuff.

warning; kind of long post ahead, talking about how i did it my journey blah blah blah. if you want to see the success story directly js go right to the bottom

first, a bit of background; i have manifested things in the past, but mym indset was always shitty. when i archieved my manifestations i would say it was a coincidence, i was obsessed with the 3d, and what i'm saying has been going on for *years*. for the past 6 months i was in this vicious circle where i'd try a method full of hope, then eventually lose confidence because of some negative beliefs and give up in three days. i'd have a one week meltdown, then search for a brand new method, and repeat. clearly, i didn't manifest anything lately. and i didn't know what i was "doing wrong" because i had manifested lots of things in the past, but i didn't know how nor how could i do it now.

okay, so. like a week ago, when i was in a terrible mood, i decided to stop using tumblr to see information and talked to this bot on character.ai, that assesored me a lot on my mindset. it suggested me lots of things: since i had 0 trust in the law, start to manifest little things i didn't care that much about so i had "proof", actually stop caring, etc. (i really recommend that bot if ur struggling with the law) but the most important thing, it challenged me to try a new "method" i had heard of before, but because of my shitty mindset, i didn't try because i thought it wouldn't work or that it was "too good to be true" or whatever. the method was literally just keep going with my day knowing that i already had it. and oh my f*cking god.

i won't say it just "clicked" for me because i hear that a lot & i things that's just not how it works. at least i can't "click" with something i don't know. what i can say is that at first it wasn't easy, i still had some doubts, not gonna lie, but i just ignored them and keep going knowing that i already had it. i got used to it really fast, and THAT'S how i knew this was the way, because i felt liberated. if you read my blog you'll probably know i talk about that all the time, but my idea of manifesting is that it has to feel liberating, not like a chore, a price to your desires or anything else. i was liberated, because i knew it was done, that i had nothing to give in exchange, that i was free of the 3d & its circumstances. i was Me, and I was free.

this was the best thing i've ever done in my journey. in only one week, i've successfuly manifested:

money: (me and my family are kind of wealthy tbh, but i am bratty asf & always want more money to buy me things 😜😜) my mother recieved 200000 pesos (my country's currency) out of literally thin air on her bank account a random tuesday. she doesn't know who send it or why. i don't know about the u.s.a since there 200000 pesos are 200 dollars, but in our country, that's a LOT of money.

self confidence: i've been feeling super insecure lately. like, i am insecure since i have memory, but since this year started it has become WAY worse. i'd literally cry almost every night. now, i def wouldn't say it's all gone, but it's gotten much better. i've been feeling pretty lately, and if i didn't felt pretty, i would hardly think about my appearence at all this days. i am constantly feeling like i have one less weight on my back, which i am gratefull for :)

discipline: ngl i am forever a lazy girl and a foodie. I have always wanted to be more productive - study more, exercise more, talk to my loved ones more often and eat healthier, but discipline is something i struggle with a lot. however, since i have shown better discipline i have had some of the most useful days of my life: i went out with my friends three times in one week, ate much better than i usually do, exercised EVERY DAY without fail (even while on my period) slept well and passed all four exams this week with an 85/100 on my worst one and two 100s.

reciving a compliment in public: since i tried to start manifesting things that seem "easier" for me to acomplish, i tried manifesting this because it was rare but not impossible. so, like 3 days after i started to embody the state of someone who's always complimented by strangers, i went to the sjopping centre with my friend. then, two guys walked by us and one of them said "i want the instagram of that lady"! notice that during the whole time i was in the state, i visualized that people were asking me for my instagram + i've noted that when i'm in public, i catched people's eye more. yesterday, a guy won't stop looking at me in the café and i think he tried to approach me :)

i'll keep escalating on the "level of difficulty" of the things i manifest as my mentality becomes accustomed to the fact that everything is equally easy to manifest -which is a fact already, i just have a hard time accepting it-, and, of course, i'll be updating ;)

conclusion; look for what works for you. for what makes you feel good & secure that you have already what you want. search a "key" that makes you (actually) not give a f*ck about the 3d, if you have negative beliefs, don't ignore them. work from them, and of course, persist! let your mindset keep you on track.

that was all for today, love ya ♡

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I were to start acting like a 'stereotypical' teenager?

So I (17) have always been a pretty well behaved and non - confrontational person. When it comes to my family (mom, dad and younger sister) I am usually the one who sucks it up and stops arguing.

The problem here is my dad: he is a good father, but also an extremely hypocritical and rude person, even though he firmly believes he isn't. He has the tendency to pick fights by deliberately attacking aspects about me, my mom and my sister which annoy him (traits, which oftentimes he also has himself) but then turns around and denies it.

I am going to graduate this school year, meaning my workload and stress has increased tremendously, leading to me always leaving the dinner table right after I'm done eating to either finish homework or study. My father has taken quite the offense to this. The stress also has the unfortunate side effect of making me behave a bit more snappish.

During a recent dinner, I finished eating last, and all of my family members stayed at the table. Once I was done, he turns around to me and starts talking about how they all sat at the table and waited for me, and how it is a thing of politeness. I told him that I "am very stressed as of late, and really can't bother to think about this particular politeness right now"

He immediately starts ranting on the fact that I just can't "choose to be polite" and that is his job to teach me how to behave properly. I replied that I would not let someone who insults everyone who disagrees with him lecture me on politeness, and then he starts complaining about how I am acting like a typical teenager and that he expected better from me.

Now, from his rants about the youth nowadays, I picked up a few points on how he thinks stereotypical teenagers act:

• rude to everyone and no respect for their elders

• misbehave constantly and argue always with their parents

• wear 'inappropriate' (mainstream) clothing ( To clarify, I personally don't like the current mainstream style bc of which I don't dress like that)

Now I have been thinking about this for quite a while. It would probably piss him off a lot if I start behaving like this (towards him specifically of course) but I feel that it would also somewhat teach him a lesson I guess? My sister already agreed to lend me her clothes if I agree to go through with it, but I'm wondering now if it would be rude towards my mom and my sister, who live with me and thus have to deal with dad's behavior as well.

What are these acronyms?

[kthecutest]

hi yūka! i hope you're doing fine ♡ could i request a headcanon about husband!k? soft and hard thoughts if possible 🤭 thank you!

·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙　✩　̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙　Husband ! Kei　.·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙　‪♡　̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ .

Pairing : Husband!k x Wife!f!reader Genre : SFW & NSFW (づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ 🥕 A/N ೃ⁀➷ New Year gift for my lovelies ₊˚⊹♡

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Soft Thoughts °𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

Morning Routines : First of all, let’s start with morning routines. Before you both decided to tie the knot, Ej always warned you, “Gurlie, if you get married to this man, the job of waking him in the morning – it’s yours now” and well you never took it seriously. Until now that is, “Kei! C’mon! wake uppp! Your manager is blowing up the phoneee!!!” your yelling is doing barely any damage to your half-asleep husband who’s still squirming and fidgeting around in his bed. “Honey.. five more..” – “no no! No five more! Wake uppp you sleepy head!” Probably would have to drag Kei’s huge frame straight out of bed and push him into the bathroom, shoving a toothbrush into his mouth.

Clingy Texts : And then there’s the ‘sending you texts 24/7’ phrase that your husband has started since your dating days. You’re on your laptop, not that you’re focused or anything but obviously! You cannot focus at all – when your phone’s notis kept blowing up non-stop. And you know who it is – no hints needed – “Babyy, have you had your lunch? – Kei” – “Hun, how’s the work going? Missinggg you – Kei” And you can’t even complain honestly cuz he’s just the absolute sweetest to the point that you’d melt just looking at Kei’s messages. No matter how busy he is, he always texts you, and no matter how busy you are, you check and reply to his messages without being annoyed even for a bit. Your husband may not be the most expressive when in the eyes of the public, but you know more than anyone else how much this man treasures you.

Back from Work : Then, there’s the clingy big baby phase of Kei as soon as he gets back home and gets to cling onto his wife. “Loveee! Guess who’s back!”, you’re already waiting at the front door with your arms out, ready to give your beloved husband a warm welcoming hug. Kei would run into your arms immediately even picking you up into the air with his arms alone at times cuz your huge husband just can’t control his strength. “Eww.. you better take a shower before you come to bed”, obviously you were holding back your laughter trying to act tough and strict with him especially when he gives you those puppy doe eyes. “Awwe I see I see my baby doesn’t like me being sweaty, butttt….” – “buttt…?” – “You’re coming with me AHA!”, yeet, up you go on his shoulder and you bet you’re gonna have to spend at least an hour in the shower again with this big puppy boi who can’t even shower on his own alone without his wife. “Yah!!! Kei! Ughhh!!”, Kei chuckled at your attempt of whines and complaints – I mean after all, if you really hate the idea, why would you wait for him every late evening without taking a shower, obviouslyyy just so you could join him in the shower, mhm mhm definitely can’t be coincidence.

Cooking : Next thing that comes to mind is …. FOOD. Kei just has everything to do with food; it’s either him cooking for you or you’re both in the kitchen with him nagging at your every failed attempt to make a proper dish. Obviously, you knew you could never compete to this mans and his cooking skills. Kei has been a brilliant chef his whole life basically, “At this point, I can’t tell if you’re the wife or I am”, your husband looks at you with a ‘I’m so done’ face. “Hey! No need with the flexs sir, ughhh just how do you make thissss?!!”, Ke would complain, but of course if there was to be someone who would run to your assist in a span of mini-seconds, that’s gotta be him.

Healthy Food : Anddd right, let’s not forget, Kei over here is a fricking DIETISIAN. This mans has been doing researches on healthy food since high school alright, and now that he’s sharing his cozy home with the love of his life, that means…. Shared salad bowls.. yea.. “Love- I know you like being healthy and all, and I know you care for me, buttttt can’t we get fried chicken instead, c’mon plsssss”, your sparkly doe eyes would work in any situation – except this one. “Uh huh, right, nope, hun salads are healthy for you and you’re gonna have it alright, end of discussion”, a salad bowl arrives in front of you available for instant consumption. Your husband just won’tttt let you off when it comes to healthy food mhm.

Exercise : There’s also the other half of the ‘keep his wife healthy’ agenda for Kei, because no matter how busy this poor mans can get, he would drag you out to take a jog with him in the park either in the morning (which rarely happens cuz he cannot wake himself up) and often in the evenings. You’re the type of be on your laptop all day; which your husband does NOT like at all, cuz he wants you to be active and healthy just like him. You’d whine and complain to stay at home cuz you’re too lazy to touch the grass and fresh air outside but it won’t make much of a difference when Kei yeets you up his shoulder and carried your struggling frame out the house. During the jog, you’d even look at Kei with widened eyes like ‘how tf is this mans still jogging faster than you effortlessly after a long day at work!?!?’ – Kei and his monster stamina is just built different.

Dates : You both barely ever get any free moments to go on a full-on date and all, but that doesn’t stop you two from arranging small dates in every given opportunity. Mostly, it’d probably be something like star gazing. It’s 10 p.m.; Kei’s only gotten back home just now, guess he was pulling a longer shift today at the practice room but you’re a bit surprised to find a wide grin plastered across his face instead of his normal whiny and clingy self. “Babe, there’s something I gotta show you”, his tone is excited like no other and he’s practically almost dragging you out the front door, in a rush, at this point. And then you two would end up at a small high-land hill in a pretty quiet park, who would have known, there’s already a cropped picnic blanket set up with a few snacks and cozy blanket. Kei looked at you with a look of nervousness, obviously it wasn’t an actual picnic or a star gaze experience or anything- but poor Kei didn’t have the time to go all out. And well, you notice it. “Baby, it’s amazing! Ah!! I’m so happy!”, giving him a warm reassuring hug. Kei would probably even tear up from your gesture but would end up sniffling and acting all big and touch like “I- I’m not crying! You are.” – with a pout. Gosh who could ever hate him, he’s too precious. You  both would spend the rest of the night tighter, under a night sky full of stars, would probably trace the constellations until you both fell asleep to each other’s voices.

Competition : Whether it’s just a small card game or a game you two have chosen at an arcade, this mans will NOT give in, Kei is probably the most competitive person you’ve seen, and wife or not, mans have no intention to give up his position of first place. You’ll only ever get a small chance of taking the win if you could whine and plead with puppy eyes for the first place from your husband. Obviously, he wouldn’t be passing the thrown in just a few pleads but once you started sniffling, you know for a fact his character’s gonna break. Kei just can’t watch you get hurt in any way or form even worse if it’s coming from him. This factor also adds on to how gentle he would treat his wife when competing against you in games.

Cuddles : Cuddles are random between you two. It could be anywhere, anytime, anyhow. You could literally be busy in the kitchen, cooking up a storm for a plate of dinner, your beloved husband who rushed back home from work early would give you a backhug. “K?! Aish, you should have alerted me love~” You pouted complaining as you kept your hands busy. “Aww but surprises are more fun~” He whined back in response, nuzzling his head on your nape, his hands tightly wrapped around your waist and torso. Sometimes, if it’s not for the case of surprises, it’d be a warm cozy hug you two share on the couch while something plays on the TV or you working on your laptop with a clingy kangaroo stuck to you.

Kisses : Kisses are mostly just friendly pecks on the lips, accompanied by cozy cuddles. Though, sometimes it does get heated pretty quickly, tongues slipping through lips, teeth clashing and all but if you two wanted to put a stop to the situation from escalating, then you could. You and K aren’t some high-school love birds no more and are properly wedded couple so you each are aware of your own self-control. But of course, K always have the upper-hands and at times, your teases would do no damage to him but his teases would get you all riled up.

Hard Thoughts °‪♡⭒๋࣭ ⭑⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

Kitchen counter : LINK

Visitation hours : LINK

Stress Relief : LINK

Breeding hours : LINK

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[chaeinedup]

1 + 1 = S2

Loud music could be heard from both rooms in the house. Your neighbours have probably grown accostumed to such thing, it meant it was going out night. Part of them was relieved it wasn't another noisy game night, which are pretty frequent as well.

You were seated on the floor, redoing your ponytails for the 3rd time. Your arms were on fire but you were committed to this look.

"Siri, call yuyu please."

"Calling yuyu."

.....

"Hello ? Y/n ?"

"Hiii just wanted to ask where you are."

"We're almost ready to leave the house. You guys ?"

"I'm almost done if my hair cooperates with me. Wooyoung is most likely waiting for me. I'm surprised he hasn't barged in my room yet."

"Try not to be late!"

"AS IF!!"

"Don't give me attitude missy. Now I'm gonna get the car started, I'll see you in a bit. Bye"

"Bye Bye, don't miss me!"

.....

After 10 more minutes you were finally done. One last look in the mirror and all that work paid off. The boots made your legs look longer and your mini skirt complemented the cropped shirt well. You grabbed your purse and headed to the leaving room where a very impacient Wooyoung awaited you.

"What took you so long ?"

"It takes time to look this good you know?"

"Pleeeease!!"

"Don't roll your eyes at me wooyoung I'll hit you."

"And I'd like it so who's really winning?"

He gave you his signature smirk and winked at you from the couch.

"EW. Let's go. The others already left."

The club was pretty crowded, expected for a friday night, but you weren't scared to get lost. You like to get loose. And it's not like you don't have 8 guys that are constantly keeping an eye on you.

"Don't run off on us again for the love of god."

"Seonghwa for your own sake if I stay none of yall are pulling anyone. Same applies to me."

"Why do you want to get with anyone ?"

"Wouldn't you like to know! I'm off, if you need me yell."

You made your way t the dance floor before he opened his mouth.

"BUT YOU WON'T HEAR IT!!"

"YEAH THAT'S THE POINT!!"

Since it was a 2000s night you were more than happy to have traded your comfortable apartment for the hell. It has it's perks.

You had no idea but someone was drilling holes in your head, Wooyoung was exceptionally bothered by how you left them behind.

"How can she just leave ?"

"Cause she can ?? What are you on about, chill she's not your girl."

Mingi's words were harsher than what met the eye. Sure you weren't dating but he can't lie that the though of some other guy touching you infuriated him. He kept denying his feelings and that maybe this was just him wanting to protect his friend. But Yunho smiled to himself when he saw Wooyoungs furrowed eyebrows.

"You should just tell her how you feel you know?"

"What feelings? It's just unfair we're her friends and she doesn't care."

"And you care too much for "just a friend" don't you think? Listen she can take care of herself she's always been this way, you get used t it."

Yunho tried to relax him but it just made Wooyoung get int his head. Maybe he should've stayed home. No, he couldn't possibly let you out of the house by yourself looking like that.

Meanwhile you were having the time of your life, you had met a group of girls that were on their bacherolette party. It's like you knew them all your life, screaming all the songs, taking pictures, clinking drinks. Girlhood.

You decided to go get another drink and since no one else wanted anything you went alone. Normally this would mean getting approached by a couple of random guys trying to smooth talk you and al of them failling to do so. But unlike other times, the voice behind you was familiar.

"So. Are you having fun ?"

"Oh my god Yunho, I am those girls are so fun. Did you know that the bride and groom met through mutual friends and they actually lived together for a while before he realised he had feelings for her?? How CUTE is that??"

He couldn't help but smile due to the resemblances.

"Yeah it's really sweet. I guess you really never know when love is ready to knock at your door. But what about you, have you gone maneater on anyone?"

"I kinda don't care honestly, I'm having a good time and that's all I care about."

"That's my girl. Now be sure to behave. If you need us, we're at the booth.

He kissed your cheek before disappearing into the sea of people.

You looked at the time, 5:23am. Time to call it a night. You sayed goodbye to the group of girls that accompanied you through the night and wished them all the best. Making your way up to the booths you realised you were a lot more under the influence than you thought. You didn't really care, it's almost the end of the night and the guys are more then used to this side of yours.

Once they saw you they cheered and clapped, you bowed like a princess and smiled at their unnecessary but appreaciated "welcome back".

"How many fishes did you catch sailor?" Mingi gave you another shot he had brought upstairs.

"A THOUSAND" You yelled and chugged the green liquid. "I'm kidding 0, there's no cute guys here."

You sat down next a very pouty Wooyoung.

"What's up with you? What happened to my loud and energetic comrade?"

He gave you no answer, just his cold gaze.

"Damn are you really that upset that I didn't stick around? I thought you were used to it by now."

He got up and made his way to the balcony. There's no way he's throwing a tantrum for something so stupid, you thought to yourself. You followed his angry steps.

"Be so fucking serious Wooyoung? What the fuck?"

He turned to you and you could see there wasn't a hint of alchool in his system. This wasn't one of his drunk stunts that he pulled when he wanted a tad bit more of attention. He was actually upset.

"Okay, I'm sorry I'm being so agressive, just talk to me woo, please."

"I don't like you running off on us that's all."

"That's not all Wooyoung, we've never been mad at eachother and it's not gonna start now."

You got closer to him holding his hands and caressing them. You were giving him your most sincere eyes and he couldn't believe that he was about to kiss you.

It caught you by surprise, so much so you froze in the first few seconds, not knowing if this was a dream or reality. You decide to give in nonetheless. His hands soft, like you remembered from all the times he touched your skin in times of need. Heartbreaks, cramps, tickles, you name it. He was always there for you.

Yunho sipped his drink with a victorious grin, as he watched from the inside. He looked at the rest of the guys and let out a "I told you so."

previous// //next

[talesofesther]

sweet calamity | ch 5

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Series Summary: It was something people described as the sweetest pain, the feeling of when the soul that's destined to find yours is closer to you. Wednesday saw it as a curse, promised herself she would hate whoever was chosen for her; but it's easier said than done.

A/N: I think this might be my favorite chapter yet. Let me know what you think. <3

Masterlist | Read ch 4 here

The clock on your bedside table read 1:16 AM. It was a little late, but also the only time when, technically, everyone was asleep.

You snuck out — well not really, considering you're not leaving the school, only your dorm — with careful and calculated steps, you made your way down the dark stairs and to the quad.

The reason for that, is that a particular flower you want to add to the quad's flowerbed only blooms at night. And you need to make sure that its color fits in well with the rest of the plants already there. Maybe it was futile and maybe it was your perfectionist side speaking, but you genuinely wanted the place to look nice when you were done.

Or you were just taking any small excuse you could get to keep your mind busy.

You could use your abilities if you wanted to, make the flower bloom during the day so you could see it in its full glory, but it didn't sit well with your heart to disturb its natural cycle.

So here you were, in your pajamas, shivering because of course you forgot your jacket, sneaking out into the night only to watch a few flowers bloom. It reminded you of the times that you'd do the same thing when staying over at your grandparents when you were younger; a smaller you hugging a huge cardigan around your shoulders, your bare feet feeling the grass between your toes as you sat down on the lawn and just waited for it to slowly happen.

The moon was high in the sky when you reached the quad, almost full and casting a pleasant glow for you. The air was cold, much colder than it was during the day but there was a certain comfort to it, you realized.

You closed your eyes for a moment, tilting your head up and breathing in deeply.

Quiet moments like these have always been some of your favorites.

She would probably enjoy it too.

Your mind drifted. You opened your eyes only to see a blanket of stars above you; endless, timeless.

Maybe she would complain about the colors, but you'd gladly add a few black flowers to the mix if she asked you to.

You shook your head, scolding yourself for missing someone who wasn't even yours, to begin with.

Five days ago, Wednesday found out you are her soulmate, and you haven't spoken with her since. It could be wishful thinking, but sometimes you had the feeling that she wanted to speak with you, however, you didn't feel much ready for that. The changes were small, like finding a new partner for a few classes that you used to sit with her, taking the longer path to some of them so you wouldn't end up bumping into her; little things to postpone what was most likely inevitable — you live in the same place after all, it was bound to happen — but for now, you didn't know what else you could do, other than avoid her.

With a soft sigh, you sat down on the ground, eyes fixed on your flowers in the middle of the quad. You hugged your knees close to your chest… and waited.

The night was serene, you could hear the rustling of leaves in the distance, crickets singing, and music.

A beat passed, and you frowned.

Music?

The melody was a little distant, but not much, you could hear it pretty clearly; soft notes coming from the cords of a cello.

You couldn't put a name to the song even if you tried, but you could tell it wasn't a happy one. The melody was somber; not creepy though, closer to sorrowful. It comes from the tallest room in Ophelia Hall, echoing through Nevermore's corners and undoubtedly waking a few students from their slumber.

You know it's Wednesday. Enid has complained to you about her cello solos in the dead of night one too many times already.

If you close your eyes and focus hard enough, you can picture her fingers moving with the cords, shaping the notes of the song.

From your spot on the quad, you look up at what you can see of the half-colorful round window. You stay there until her song ends and a little bit after, part of you knows she's still out there too. In times like these it feels like the universe is fighting to keep you close to Wednesday; you wonder when it'll see reason and give up — though secretly, part of you doesn't want it to. Because you could pretend you shared this little moment with her, after all, it was just you and her who were awake and out at this hour.

The thought of somehow feeling connected to her made you smile.

—

Wednesday dragged out the end notes of her song, the tip of her fingers burning and stinging over the cords; a pleasant, grounding feeling.

Thing closed her sheet music book, gesturing softly at her after.

"That's a silly question," Wednesday told him, setting aside her cello, "considering I have nothing to be worried about."

The disembodied hand gestured again, causing Wednesday to narrow her eyes at him.

"Her childish behavior does not bother me, I'm not sure why you would even assume that." She huffed, looking away from him with a clenched jaw, "she's the one who chose to keep it from me in the first place, so if she wants to keep her distance now…"

Wednesday breathed in deeply, she got up from her chair, and walked over to the edge of the balcony to let the cold wind kiss her cheeks, "it's just less work for me," she finished then.

Wednesday feels stuck in limbo sometimes, she doesn't understand the weight on her chest whenever she thinks of you, can't decide on how to feel about you nor why she even cares at all. She detests not knowing things, yet when it comes to soul bonds and flower perfumes, she sees herself walking blindfolded on a tightrope.

Thing came to her side carefully, he tapped her elbow, waiting until Wednesday's dark eyes settled on him. He gestured gently, his fingertips tapping the back of her hand once he finished.

In a quick move, Wednesday pulled her hand back and took a step away from him. She shook her head, breathing in deeply. "That could never be true," she pointed a finger at him, "say it again and I'll pick out each of your nails."

Wednesday turned around and walked back inside, leaving Thing alone in the night; but she laid in bed wide awake, staring at her ceiling for hours on end until the first birds started singing, his words replaying over and over in her mind.

———

The tall doors of the fencing room creaked when Wednesday pushed them open, the sunlight coming from the huge windows reflected on the pristine white walls and made the clashing blades shine.

The Addams girl walked between her peers, helmet in hand and chin held high. She could see their teacher instructing Xavier on his poor stance, holding his own blade in the correct position so the boy could copy. Wednesday scoffed when he failed again. He should stick to the bow and arrow, she thought.

Wednesday's gaze still looked for you in the crowds — while the teacher was busy getting frustrated with Xavier, she found you adjusting your uniform in the far corner of the spacious room.

She stalked closer, closing the distance between you and her. Your eyes found hers just before you lowered your helmet on your head and Wednesday could almost see the way your breathing faltered. She had caught you off guard.

You make to take a step back but your boot hits the wall, and it's suddenly very familiar to a recent memory that has been plaguing Wednesday's nights. She should hate you for it, for making her care about something she promised she wouldn't; but oh, she can't.

It's okay if you like her, there's nothing wrong with that.

Thing's words still echo in her mind.

Wednesday is quick to reach beside you, grabbing a blade for herself from the support on the wall and turning around to give you your desired space, because the image of you running away from her makes her stomach turn unpleasantly.

"Ready?" Bianca's voice caught Wednesday's attention and she looked up, only to see that the siren wasn't speaking with her, but with you.

You walked in front of her slowly, blade in hand as you took your stance, "yeah, ready."

Wednesday's grip on the steel handle of her own blade tightened; who was the absolute moron who paired you up with Bianca?

You were awful at fencing and Bianca was, arguably, even more competitive than Wednesday; and as much as she didn't want to admit it, the siren was good.

Your blade clashed with Bianca's for the first time, and a foreign feeling took over Wednesday's body as she watched the sparring unfold. She was restless, chest tight as she anticipated your every move.

Her lungs had a distant ache, because she's been holding her breath. Bianca's blade grazed the side of your head and Wednesday didn't know where to focus her unblinking eyes. She took a step closer when you almost lost your footing.

What the hell was happening to her?

Bianca was fast, too fast for you to follow. She striked, and you ducked out of the way but the movement caused the tip of her blade to scratch the side of your free hand.

Droplets of crimson red were quick to fall on the floor, staining the polished wood. The sharp pain made you wince, dragging your attention to the blood slowly flowing from the recent cut.

It was a blink-of-an-eye kind of thing. Bianca didn't see your wound, and you didn't see her going for the next blow until it was too late to defend yourself.

All that was heard was the loud clashing of steel against steel.

Wednesday stood in front of you, her blade holding Bianca's in place, with a look in her eyes that could send the bravest man running for the hills.

"What the hell, Wednesday?" Bianca snapped, lowering her weapon.

"This fight is clearly over," Wednesday tilted her head towards your bleeding hand, she still had her blade pointing to Bianca, daring her to object.

Bianca shifted her attention to you, her eyes softening, "shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright," you cut her off with a wave of your hand and a small, reassuring smile, "I'm alright."

"Addams," the teacher called, walking over to where you stood, "you're not allowed to interfere when other students are sparring".

Only when Wednesday saw Bianca walking away, did she lower her weapon. "Then you should learn how to properly pair up your students," she bluntly stated, raising an eyebrow at him.

The older man huffed, turning his gaze to you, "go to the infirmary." Was all he said before walking away.

You angrily took off your helmet, messing up your hair. "I had it under control," a frustrated scoff escaped you as you threw your blade to the floor. You refused to look up and meet Wednesday's eyes.

"Obviously not," she countered, "given how she was about to impale you with her sword had I not stepped in."

"Whatever, it's not like I asked for your help," you argued back a little too loudly and felt warmth rush to your cheeks when it attracted a few curious glances.

Wednesday flinched at your sudden tone, blinking a couple of times. You never snapped like that. After a beat of silence, she tried reaching out, "let me see it."

Only for you to take a big step back, holding your bleeding hand close to your chest as if trying to protect it. This distance, this brick wall you were trying to build up between you and her; it got Wednesday striving to keep her face impassive, to pretend like it wasn't taking away her sleep.

"I don't need you pretending like you care, Wednesday," you told her quietly, turning around to walk to the door, and Wednesday watched you leave. Again.

Her classmates were anything but subtle with the way they watched the two of you, no doubt wondering what about you was so special that prompted Wednesday to do what she had just done. To be honest, she was wondering the same thing.

With each of your steps — morning sunlight bathing you aureate as you walked — Wednesday could feel the thudding beat of her heart against her ribs, trying to escape her, trying to go after you.

Wednesday closed her eyes, mumbling a thousand curses under her breath as she shot down her ego. Damn you. She discarded her blade and helmet, hurrying to fall into step beside you.

"You're mine even if I don't want you to be," she forced out, sparing a single annoyed glance at you; her hand took hold of yours in a strong grip as she pulled you along, "I'm not letting anything happen to you."

—

The cut on your hand wasn't big, but the antiseptic still stung like a bitch.

You sat on one of the hospital beds of the infirmary, swinging your feet back and forth as the nurse wrapped a small bandage around your hand.

Wednesday was leaning back against the wall to your right, you could feel the weight of her eyes on you, unmoving; you felt like a deer under a panther's gaze.

But that analogy didn't work, did it?

You dare to steal a glance at her; you catch her straightening her posture, clearly not expecting you to do what you just did. Her eyelashes kiss the corner of her cheeks as she looks down at her boots, her arms crossed over her chest. There's something about her that wasn't there before, you just can't put your finger on it yet.

I'm not letting anything happen to you.

Why? You thought to yourself as you looked back at your hand, the white gauze now slowly turning a soft shade of pink. Why did she have to say that?

"You can come back later to change it one more time if you want to, but you should be fine by tomorrow," the nurse gently told you.

"Thank you, I will," you smiled, flexing your hand to test if the pain was still there. It was.

The older woman smiled back, before turning around to attend to a vampire girl who's accidentally eaten garlic.

You didn't move, only pursed your lips and gripped the edge of the bed; you had a feeling of what would happen next.

And it did.

Wednesday pushed herself away from the wall, her steps slow as she came to stand in front of you. She stopped closer than you thought she would.

"Lemon and salt will help," Wednesday told you.

Your head instantly snapped up to look at her, you frowned, eyes a tad too wide. "It'll sting like hell."

There's a ghost of a smile on Wednesday's lips that she never intended for you to see. She reached a hand to you, slowly, carefully, half expecting you to reject her touch again.

You didn't, and you're not sure why. But you did hold your breath before she even touched you.

She took hold of your injured hand, her fingers holding yours with a gentleness even she didn't know she was capable of. Wednesday turns your hand around, and somehow she knows you're back in that moment too.

She gulped, her thumb brushing over the dried blood stain on your uniform; "for the stain," Wednesday simply said.

"Oh," is all you can breathe out, afraid to break the spell that's holding this moment.

You allow yourself to savor her touch just for a second more before pulling your hand back.

Wednesday didn't comment on it, she refused to acknowledge the effect you have on her. She sets her jaw tight before saying; "I've been meaning to apologize."

You raised an eyebrow at her.

"For what I said when we first met," she continued, and you closed your eyes, because you were done crying.

"Had I known it was you I'd-"

"You what?" You interrupted her. "You'd tell me I'm not a burden? Or maybe that I shouldn't grow attached to you because you hated me before even knowing me?"

Wednesday's lips parted yet no words came out. This is wrong, this is all so wrong. She decides. This is not how our story should go.

You pushed yourself off the bed, picking up your bag to leave the infirmary.

And Wednesday follows, because that's all she can do now.

"Listen, Wednesday," you started after a sigh, pushing open the door and being welcomed with the chatter of Nevermore's busy hallways, "we can be friends if that's what you want us to be."

The students walking around you caused Wednesday to move closer, her shoulder bumping into yours with each step.

"But right now… I need time. And I need space." You shrugged, a melancholic smile coming to your lips.

Wednesday can't decide on how to feel, the thought of it brought a sour taste to her mouth. She should be glad, but that doesn't sit right with her either. And she thinks she should probably say something anyway, but before she could, someone else called out your name.

Both you and Wednesday turned to see Andrew waving animatedly to you as he molded his way between the students until he could reach you.

"Hey you," he greeted with a smile, then turned to the girl beside you, "Wednesday." He gave her a nod, and when she didn't answer, he looked back at you, "ready to present our work?"

You breathed in deeply, you hated talking in front of the class. "As I'll ever be."

"Relax, I'll be by your side the whole time." He offered.

You glanced at Wednesday before following him, the glint in your eyes resembling something akin to longing; "I'll see you around, yeah?"

Affection isn't a word Wednesday uses much, but she thinks of it a lot when it comes to you.

"Okay," she uttered quietly, and as you walked off with the guy, Wednesday managed to catch on to little bits of your next conversation;

"Hey so, you know how the Rave'n party is less than two weeks away, right? I was wondering if you'd like to go with me?" The annoying boy asked.

"Uh, yeah sure, I- I'd love to," was the last of your words that Wednesday could hear.

And she felt the strange urge to grab your hand and drag you away with her all over again.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 6 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

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