#neglecting this blog because of papers and all that

[fairuzfan]

This post is for the anon who sent me that video asking me to debunk it's claims so they can be better equipped against accusations of antisemitism.

Sorry, I won't post the video since I refuse to have that man on my blog but I can give you common Zionist talking points and the illogicality behind it.

To preface: most of the questions Zionists will ask you are a trap, and will make you fall into a "rabbit hole" (as I was once told when I was younger), as we try to apply their reasoning. My advice is to ALWAYS center the humanity of Palestinians. For example, when a Zionist says:

"Don't Jews deserve a homeland to be safe?"

It fundamentally ignores the core issue: Palestinians are being raped, murdered, and expelled from their homes so that the establishment of this so called "homeland" may exist. When people ask this to you, I personally advise saying something like:

Why must Palestinians suffer for the establishment of this homeland?

Always recenter to the issue at hand—the inhumane removal and treatment of Palestinians.

"Palestine belongs to the Jews and Not Muslims"

The whole premise of this claim is flawed—there is a weird tendency to equate Arab/Palestinian=Muslim when it just is like. Completely untrue. There are Palestinian Christians, Bethlehem is famously a Christian city, who have been there for centuries. There are Palestinian Jews, who have been there for centuries. There are Palestinian Muslims, who have been there for centuries. My grandpa told me stories of how he would turn on lamps for his Jewish neighbors in Al-Khalil (or Hebron) during Shabbat.

To claim that Palestine is EITHER Islamic or Jewish doesn't make any sense and completely neglects the fact that dissemination of culture has occurred for centuries, as well as the intermingling of people throughout generations. To somehow assert that for some reason, Jews and Muslims did not have ANYTHING to do with each other—did not create together, did not build families together, did not build culture together, all while being PALESTINIAN—is incredibly racist and nonsensical. "Palestinian" is not a religious identity—it's a cultural and ethnic one.

Also, it does not negate the core issue—Palestinians are being killed, removed, and tortured so that others can live on that land.

"Well what about [something about partitioning land]?"

Honestly like, who cares about the partitioning throughout the 1900 and early 2000s. Sorry, I'm not going to list the whole "partitioning" history nonsense. The whole reason "Israel" exists is because of a Mass Exodus, murder, and rape of Palestinians. Everything after that is rendered obsolete.

"Well, I heard Palestinians allied with Hitler"

I don't know how to tell you this but Palestine was under British Control. No they didn't.

"Israel withdrew from the Gaza and left them to themselves and they put Hammas in charge"

Oh yeah, Israel totally left Gaza, that's why Gazans' water, electricity, internet, and food is completely controlled by Israel (this is sarcasm, Israel still controls basic life in Gaza).

Go back to centering the idea that no human deserves to be shoved into an open-air prison, starved, and controlled. Did you know that the Zionist Entity controls the amount of water Gazans receive, as well as counting their calories to ensure they don't have enough energy on a day to day basis?

"I heard Israel asked Arabs to stay"

Show them these papers and videos when they say this:

If you can't show them these videos, check in the next point what to say.

"Well the Palestinians left of their own will in 1948"

Palestinians in 1948 didn't "leave." They had heard of how the Zionist Entity was slaughtering Palestinians en masse. Women especially heard stories of rape and sexual violence. They fled from *violence*. Again, from an earlier post, that this was a calculated effort on the Zionist Entity's part to try and get them to "leave" on their own and "abandon" their houses so that they can come in and say "hey, they left on their own so, we can come in and take their houses now."

Anyways, the idea that once you leave your house you can't ever come back to it is incredibly odd to me as an argument on Zionists' part. Like if you leave your house right now to go to the grocery store and you come back and see someone in your house and they're like "sorry dude, this is my house now, you left so that means you can't come back," you'd be like, "what the hell!" It would be even weirder if everyone agreed with the guy who took your house, which is what happened to Palestinians.

In Al-Khalil, or Hebron, Palestinians always have to have someone stay in their house or else a Settler will come in and take it from them. So it still goes on today as well.

This is not a point, but when that one person in the video said "Arabs lived under Israeli rule" and showed a clip of a bustling city with mountains, I'm pretty sure that was Amman, Jordan, not Palestine lol. Those buildings in the mountains look like how downtown Amman builds the residential areas. Could be wrong tho.

"There are no Jews living under Palestinian rule in Palestine"

What is this, some sort of gotcha argument? What are they trying to prove, the racist (obviously false) notion that Palestinians hate Jews as a whole? How do they know no Palestinian Jew lives in Gaza? Also, Settlers in Palestinian Territory exist??? I had never heard this claim before, its incredibly stupid lol. You're automatically a citizen of "Israel" if you're Jewish, whether or not you live in or outside of Palestinian Territories. So of course technically they don't live under Palestinian rule, they're granted full rights as an "Israeli" citizen automatically!

Go back to talking about the inhumane treatment of Palestinians, I wouldn't bring up the above counterpoint unless they really won't let it go since the main point is mistreatment.

"Why are Christians supporting Israel then, if it's a secular issue rather than a religious one?"

Well actually for a couple reasons:

Oil interests and regional control of goods (White People Supporting White People).

Weird fundamentalist ideology where they want to enact the second coming of Christ.

And finally because they are racist and don't think Arab Christians deserve to live. They literally bombed a 1500+ year church the other day. Why would (White) Christians cosign that.

Anyways, its a stupid argument again, because it forgets the core issue of Palestinians dying and being displaced.

In summary, always go back to the point of centering the Palestinians being displaced, tortured, and murdered, no matter the argument a Zionist gives you.

[cherry-leclerc]

million dollar man ☆ toto wolff

genre: age gap, porn with plot, angst, mentions of drugs, tragedy, erotic literature, mentions of homicide, bits of humor, child neglection, divorced!toto

word count: 16.5k

Toto Wolff, self-made billionaire, is on cloud nine; he has all he’s ever wanted. A beautiful wife, family, a great team. But when that starts slipping from his fingers, he desperately tries to keep hold of what is not his anymore. As a possible solution to cure his blues, Lewis kindly invites him to a place he runs off to when times get tough; to relieve some stress. But he just never expected a cosplaying angel, dancing around a metal pole, to be his salvation. And also, his cruelest life lesson. 

nsfw warning under the cut! 

18+…dry humping/ thigh riding, sexual tension, penetrative sex, oral sex (m!receiving f!receiving), size kink, breeding kink, praise, foreplay, riding

inspired by this and this !

STOP AND READ:

Typically, we keep it light here: occasional minor angst fics, but light, nonetheless. That will not be the case this time around. Because of that, I firmly believe that it is necessary to give a few warnings. There will be mentions of drug-use and homicide and if that is not something you are comfortable with then that is totally okay! I have more options for you to read over at my masterlist! This is purely fictional. With that, this story is based and inspired by Million Dollar Man and Yayo by Lana Del Rey (*run*)—what that means is that this story will not have a happy ending. 

cherry here!…toto is like—a special appearance, here in this blog. probably won’t write for him all the time, but hey! we love him!originally this was going to be named yayo but have since changed my mind to million dollar man. IT WILL MAKE SENSE AND I’M SORRY, ANONS. please don’t hate the villain in me. consider yourself warned. 

There was no room for love when it came to the world of motorsport. Toto’s first marriage was a transparent reminder, given its falling out. The Austrian didn’t seem to care, almost; Mercedes was at their prime, but by then, when Susie came along, he felt a gist of hope. She must’ve known the sacrifices that would be made—the expectations. 

And yet, he sat there, signing the divorce papers once again. What had he done wrong this time? He had given her everything she could have ever wanted—spent time he didn’t even have—with her. 

Neither of us were happy anymore, she would whisper apologetically, eyes trained downwards. But I’ll always love you, Toto. You must remember that. 

Suddenly, he was fifty-two and with no true purpose in life other than to stabilize his broken team. If it wasn’t false accusations from other team principals, then it was trouble with the hydraulics, and if it wasn’t that, then it was losing his World Champion. Mercedes was already dwindling down to a mess, but with Lewis leaving—it felt like he was losing his mind. 

“You understand where I’m coming from, right, Toto?” 

Looking up at Lewis and Penni, his manager, the Austrian sighs, forcing a tired smile. No. He didn’t understand—did not want to understand. But he had no right to prevent the Brit from expanding one final time before retirement. I just feel like I need to do this for myself, but thank you for the infinite support. Mercedes will always be home to me. 

Promises. Fuck them, they meant nothing at the end of the day, so why bother? 

“Do what you need to do. I’ll always be here for you; no matter what.”

It was a bittersweet feeling to have. On one hand, the brunette felt optimistic. Maybe this was a chance to start over, perhaps offer up the golden seat to Carlos or Kimi. They had proven themselves in their own way and maybe that could bring better opportunities towards the team.

On the other, he felt like this was it. Maybe it was time to move on, retire with a sorrowful smile and live out the rest of his years. He could try fixing things with Susie. The thing was, he just re-signed as team principal, so none of that would work out even if he wanted to. 

Running a large hand through his brown hair, he groans and takes a sip of whiskey. Wincing at the taste, he jumps up in alert from his seat when there’s a knock on the glass door. May I? He nods.

Entering with an easy smile, Lewis raises his dark brows in a teasing manner. “Drinking ain’t gonna help, I promise you that.”

The brown eyed man grins. “You have something else in mind, cause if so, I’d like to hear it.”

The Brit hums, tilts his head to the side. Lewis had been with Toto for as long as he can remember; he was there when Toto and Susie met, and long after when they tied the knot. He swore they were happy, and that may have been once true, but he also knows sometimes even that can’t be enough. So, when news came out to their inner circle that the two were getting divorced, he felt sorry for him. He knows what it feels like to have it all, to suddenly go to sleep alone every night. But there was always one place that always helped— even people like him.

“You up for Vegas?”

-

He should have said no. He was too old for any of this nonsense. Too mature. Only, one thing led to another, and before he knew it, he was entering one of the top-tier stripclubs in all of Las Vegas. He knows that while there is nothing wrong with the profession, he can’t help but feel sinisterly dirty. He blames it on the fact that Lewis was beaming right besides him. Maybe if he hadn’t once been his boss, then the feeling would be different.

“Oh, c’mon. Ease up. No one will even know that you were in here.”

It’s true. While the club was a part of the infamous Vegas strip, it was also exclusively exclusive. No one could get in if there was no form of proving to be millionaires, and even that was ridiculously low. NDA’s would be signed as if it were something normal. Made him wonder what kind of things occurred between these four walls. 

Toto chuckles deeply, dark eyes roaming the entire room, loud music blaring. “How did you even know this place exists?”

Lewis winks, lousy arm waving at the bouncers. “You know how everyone thinks Formula One drivers are players and are up to no good?”

“Yeah?”

He smirks. “Well…they’re fucking right.”

After a couple of drinks, a few new friends—who would make great potential business partners—and a bit of gambling, the fifty-two year old found himself having a decent time. The atmosphere was a tad bit suffocating, but one time won’t kill him. He deserved it. 

“Oh, oh, you might want to take a seat,” Lewis chants excitedly. “People get pissed if you block their view.”

Abruptly, the stage lights up. It was a bit alarming, the sudden speed these men took to claim their seats, trampling over each other to get front row. Carefully, he crouches down onto the couch of giddy men. This wasn’t a normal setting; girls were caged behind glass as if to protect them from these males and their slithering actions. A red head professionally swings around the steel pole, black skirt flowing, adding to the illusion men love to taste. 

Whoops and hollers echo the red room as the Brit nudges Toto’s broad shoulder with a wicked grin. “Good, no? She’s my favorite.”

The Austrian scrunches his nose, half joking, half not. “Is this why you were always dozing off during our meetings?”

“Exactly why.”

It was an impressive art, he’ll give credit where credits due, and his eyes were bulging out of his head, but that’s about it. When he stood up to go and order a new drink, a string of boos were thrown at him. Even Lewis shook his head with disapproval. Man, you’re missing the show! He sends a sly grin. “I’m tough to win over, but they’re great, don’t get me wrong.”

The bartender shakes his head in disbelief. “That’s what they all say. Until they lay eyes… on her.”

“On who?” He’s quickly hushed as soon as the room changes gears. The once red club enhances into a soft yellow glow, the fast paced music slows down to an angelic piano intro. 

A round of applause for everyone’s favorite girl—Peaches!

If the fifty-two year old ever thought he’s heard it all; loud cheers from fans, loud cheers for the other dancers; then he must have been mistaken, and awfully foolish. His ears ring with the sudden howls from everyone in the room. Turning around, he’s found with a girl, standing with golden angel wings. A shiny reflection colors her hair as she delicately bows, shy smile sewn onto her pouty lips. White dress wrapped around her figure as if it was tailored for her, and only her. 

Yayo.

The way she pranced inside the glass box like a butterfly makes the men grow wild as they pant feverishly. She’s barely doing anything—hasn't even done half as much as what the other girls had done—and somehow, all eyes are drawn on her like a sticky potion. Toto’s heartbeat gets stuck in his throat as he tries his best to swallow it down. Sad eyes flicker throughout the club as she spins, dress fluttering like a flower in the summer breeze. 

You’re someone desirable in all senses, and it appears as if you know it as well. 

Let me put on a show for you, daddy. 

Dropping down to your knees, you crawl towards the glass as you draw your soft brows together, as if pleading to be let out. Hot breath paints the glass before you press a kiss. 

Then, you’re looking at him, and it’s as if you could point out all the fucked up shit he’s ever done. His heart speeds up as you tie your shiny legs along the pole, sensually spinning as you throw your head back. Like a signal, water sprinkles inside the box as it lubricates you down, dark mascara trickling your features. 

Arms toss your hair back before sharing a quick wave as you step out, red lights turning back on. And just like that, Toto is left empty and alone once again.

“That shit was insane,” the Brits voice shakes him away from your spell as he flops down on the stool right next to him. “She must be new because I for sure wouldn’t have forgotten a pretty face like hers. What’d you think?”

Toto blinks. “She might be my favorite.”

-

Thank you, Ro, you say as you sign on the bottom x, waving him off as he tilts his head in agreement. Call me if you need anything. I’ll be outside, like always. 

Even after all this time, you still got trepidatious. There came times where the connection was completely off, that you just wanted to bolt away, screaming like a baby. But you needed this job to survive, plus, it paid a pretty penny. 

“Where do you want me?”

Once you spot the massive businessman, manspreading on the couch that he made out to look like a toy, you gulp. You had caught a glimpse of him already, basically performed for him, but you didn’t think he was the one who called for you.

He’s strikingly handsome in a way you couldn’t quite comprehend. Dark, untamed hair covers his face. Long nose catches your attention as you squirm. His hands are practically the size of your face and you could only imagine what his thick fingers must feel like. Curiously, your eyes dwindle down to his lap as you picture what rests between his legs.

“Oh, right. Um…”

You grin. “First time?”

He winces. “It was a friend's idea.”

“Hmph. Heard that one before.” Inching closer, you pour a glass of water. “Here. It’ll help.”

His hand swallows you whole as you gape down at the difference. Electricity zaps you as you flinch and he catches on. Bringing the cup towards his pink lips, he closes his eyes, lashes fanning his tan skin. Being taken care of by a beautiful, young lady, made him cringe in all kinds of ways. He felt like a child, then like an old man. To be fair, he sort of was.

“I’m not here for…you know.” You quirk a neat brow. You don’t want to fuck me? Your question has him choking on the ice as he raises his hand up. “N-no, I just th—”

“I’m afraid you’re just wasting my time, and time is money. Have a good day, Mr. Wolff.”

Gaining his composure, Toto storms over to you, grabbing your hand. “I’ll still pay you. Triple what you make, but please don’t go.”

Your cheeks are dusted light pink when you turn around, wings brushing against him. If you’re lucky, you reach his toned chest, but the height difference was scary. Enticing. You almost wish he would fuck you like a pornstar. 

“You know what a girl wants to hear. I’m in.”

Turns out, he just wanted a companion. Someone who wouldn’t pity him. Didn’t hurt that you were the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, either. Narrowing your eyes, you click your tongue. “She said that?”

He sighs. “Maybe I was changing.”

“Perhaps, but that’s what a marriage is for. You change, sure, but you change together. Things can’t possibly stay that same, that’s just stupid.” Tucking your legs beneath your butt, you continue. “And what? Your number one driver decides to leave out of the blue? Even after it was mutually decided that he would stick around at least until 2026?”

That was something no one knew, but who were you going to tell? Toto grimaces. “It sounds bad, doesn’t it?”

“It fucking sucks.”

The Austrian chuckles deeply at your outburst. You blush at the cunning sound. “You’re a terrific listener. I’m glad you stuck around to talk.”

“I’m glad I did, too.” You play with the hem of your dress. “You’re a kind man, Toto. You didn’t deserve any of this.”

-

He slips away that night with a tranquility he hasn’t felt in quite a while. On the way back to Monaco, he wonders if you were some kind of guardian that he had to meet in order to move on from his bittersweet feelings. Because it sure did feel like it since he felt he now knew what it is that he had to do in the upcoming season. All thanks to you. 

“…Toto….Hello?” Bono smacks his hand against the table and the Austrian flinches. They were in the talks of what position he would stay in now that Lewis was departing from his life-long engineer. “Do you want me to continue or?”

The brunette clears his throat, awkwardly. “We have a few weeks of break before the new season begins, correct?”

“Correct.”

He stands up to his full height. “Then let’s talk later. Enjoy your break, Bono. See you soon.” Then he’s walking out the sliding doors, with a dumbfounded engineer piercing his eyes at his large back.

Elizabeth, Toto’s rough voice speaks to his personal assistant. Clear my schedule for the next few weeks. Oh, and also; get me the first flight out to Las Vegas. 

-

Cursing at the dusty wind, you huddle your way into your beat up car, fingers sliding your Dior glasses down the bridge of your nose. They were a gift from a recent client, and you never shamed them away. Taking a sip of your sparkling water, you sigh in relief at the refreshing taste. Screw Nevada for being annoyingly hot. 

Tap tap. 

Squinting your eyes at your window, you only catch a glimpse of a man’s clothed crotch as you yelp. Swinging the door open, you take out your pepper spray. “Go away creep, I will use this if necessary!”

"Warten! Warten!"

“Huh?”

“I said wait,” a thick accent clarifies. You bite back a smile. “Hello.”

Bringing your hands up to your hips, you giggle. “Hello, Mr. Wolff. Back for more?”

He can try and pretend that he was better than crawling back to you, even if all you both did was have a meaningful conversation, but he doesn’t have time for lies. 

“I just wanted to thank you.” Your lips separate, slowly. “For everything. You helped me figure out lots of things.”

“Oh, wow… I, umm… You’re welcome?”

Intaking your soft aura, he closes his right eye due to the bright sun. “Can I take you out for coffee?”

-

You didn’t go out for coffee at a local cafe, but rather at his mansion he just blew his money on without batting an eye. Inhaling the yummy scent, you swoon. “This smells amazing.” 

He smiles. “It’s from Germany.”

“Authentic. How’d you get it?”

“Don’t underestimate power.” Your eyes grow wide at his cold tone and the Austrian laughs. “Relax. I’m from Germany. It’s my favorite, so I always carry one with me. Call me old-fashioned.”

“Let’s just leave it at old.”

He flashes a devious grin, lines tracing his face. “Ha-ha. But seriously, thank you for helping me out of my little…crisis.” Midlife crisis, you correct him as he glares. You snicker. 

“I’m glad I was able to help.”

“Can I ask you something?” Sure, you cheer as you sip on the hot drink. He fixes his glasses. “How did you end up working at Machiavellian Nights?” Your stomach drops. “You don’t have to answer.”

“No.” He nods. “I’ll tell you, because oddly enough, I trust you.” Okay, he whispers. “Are you close to your parents?” 

“What?” Are you? He nods again. You smile sadly. 

“That’s lovely, Toto. Appreciate that.” You release a shaky breath. “My father passed away when I was fifteen and my mother pretends to not know me.”

He gulps and you continue. “It was not always like that, though. We had a close relationship. She would braid my hair every night before bed. I would curl hers before every date. She was an amazing woman. One I could admire.”

“What happened?”

You lower your head, lips wobbling. Letting out a wet laugh, you brush a hand up against your nose. “Men are deceiving. Men are shit. Men are a complete waste of time and— I miss who my mom used to be.”

Handing you a napkin, you silently thank him. “She met him when I was only seventeen. It was fine at first; I was so happy for her. I would be moving out for college eventually, so I felt relieved that she had someone to rely on. Connor was great.”

The fifty-two year old is momentarily lost. Nothing sounds as bad as it seems, but he refrains from telling you so. “Then she got pregnant. Oh, Toto, I was so excited. A baby sister. Could you imagine? I bought everything my first job could afford. Onesies, blankies, pampers, I bought it all. And I never once expected anything in return.”

“That’s where things began to change. Connor swore I was trying to win my mom over and leave Rosie with nothing. Kicked me out before I even had a chance to defend myself. I thought —okay, I’ll just talk to her and explain that it was never my intention to do any of that. But she wouldn’t listen. She gave birth six months ago.”

“And you ended up...” You hum, bringing the mug up to your lips. 

“It was either that or fast food. Salary is shit in that industry. And the customers aren’t bad. I could say yes or no at any given time.”

The brunette fiddled with his watch. “So, you could have turned me away?” Laughing, you nod. He fakes a smug look. “And why didn’t you?”

Tapping a lazy finger onto your chin, you close your eyes before fluttering them open. “I had a feeling you had shit locked away. Just like me.”

-

He bids you farewell, claiming he was glad to have met you, even with such circumstances. The way he hugs you goodbye makes the pit of your stomach fuel with fire as you brush away the urge to climb onto him and kiss his pain away, even if he promises to not feel any. 

Take care of yourself, you beg, head resting beneath his heart. His breath hitches. You need to look after yourself, above all. Oh. And good luck with the new season. 

He wonders why such a pretty plea makes his heart break. Perhaps it was because even though your life was at rock bottom, you still looked out for others. Or maybe it was him, but he couldn’t pinpoint it at all. He wouldn’t try either because as stated before, he was leaving for good. He could make room to visit you the next time he was here for the Las Vegas GP. Even then, he wouldn’t risk you like that.

But like a kid at a candy shop, he finds himself signing the NDA once again. Welcome back, Mr. Wolff. The usual? “That sounds great, thank you.” Taking a seat, he watches the vivid room, hoping to spot you. Set after set, he’s torn when you don’t show up. Others seem to notice you missing as they violently spit slurs of; Bring out the pretty one! 

“Would you be kind enough to treat me to a sweet drink? Paloma’s are my favorite.”

Your sultry voice salutes him like a perfect hug as he looks down to where you bite down onto the inside of your cheek. Your eyes crinkle as you beam up at him. “You’re here…”

“I always am.”

He cringes, desperation humbling him as you take a seat. “Your act…you didn’t go on and I just thought you were out sick or something?” Leaning over to take a sip of his dark drink, loopy eyes train on him before sighing.

“Ugh, I wish. I’m on my period. I asked for the night off, but I’m still up to no good. Make a little bit of money, eh.” He clenches his jaw. “What are you doing here anyways, Toto? Oh shit—Mr. Wolff.” Smiling warmly at the bartender, you hug your red lips around the glass.

“I wanted to see you.”

Choking on the fruity drink, you clutch onto his thigh. He stiffens, but still pats your exposed back. You wore a silky red dress, just like the rest of the girls strutting through the busy club, but somehow, it looked better on you. Enhancing your soft features, tugging against your curves like an envelope. Perky tits begging to be licked— sucked on. 

“Why?”

“I…I don’t know.” You frown. “I have no idea, but you’ve lingered on my mind from the moment I saw you, dancing sadly. Why was that?” 

You purse your lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He huffs. “Think a little bit harder, then.” His firm tone makes you sit up straight, drawing circles on his lap, as a tactic to not pull your strong gaze away. You don’t even notice his hard cock pushing up against the denim. 

“I had just received a restraining order against Rosie.” He deflates. “I’ve never even met my newborn sister and they got a fucking restraining order.” You scoff. “Unbelievable.”

Toto was lucky enough to be a part of his kids' lives, but simply picturing the idea of Stephanie or Susie getting a restraining order against him, crushed him. Seeing you so upset about it makes him want to track down your mother and Connor and yell at them for how they’ve treated you. But then he would probably find himself with a similar piece of paper.

“Just when I think they’ve done it all, there always seems to be more.” You laugh, taking another sip of your cold drink. “They’re getting clever.”

“How are you so okay with any of this?”

You narrow your eyes, offended by his question. “You think I am? Toto, I feel like the odd one out. My own mother makes me feel like a culprit for simply wanting to give my baby sister a pair of shoes.” The brunette furrows his brows. You giggle. “I got Rosie a pair of ballet shoes. They’re the cutest thing you’ll ever see.” 

His lips quirk upwards. “So, you’ve tried to meet her?” You shake your head, hair whiplashing. I called my mom, brought up the idea. I guess she didn’t like it because next thing I knew, hello, restraining order. It’s sick. “They don’t deserve you.”

Your mouth stays agape as you blink back at him, doe eyes ringing him in. “I’m done trying. I get tired too, y’know?” Edging closer to your seat, you cup your hands against his ear, getting a whiff of his musky, expensive scent. You almost let out a moan. “You have kids, right? Were they cute when they were babies?” 

He nods, enthusiastically. “They’re heaven sent.” Your eyes twinkle, and he feels bad for a split second. “Want to see?” He dangles his phone towards you as you beam. Do you mind? “Not at all. As a father, you must know, I like to brag about them.” Rolling your eyes, you swipe through his gallery as you coo.

“Oh my goodness! She looks just like you,” you point out when you spot a blond girl. He grins. That’s Rosa. Flickering your eyes up to him, you gasp. “Rosie.” 

“Huh? Similar…that’s funny.”

Your grin widens. “Oh, handsome. Just like his father.” Benedict, he informs you as he blushes at the comment. Swiping once more, you tilt your head. “Very cute—like insanely adorable—but he doesn’t resemble you at all.” He laughs, throwing his head back.

“That’s my youngest, Jack. He looks just like his mother.” He retrieves the phone from you before handing it back. Squinting, you analyze the older blond. “Identical. It’s almost as if you didn’t partake in the game, Mr. Wolff.”

“Oh, trust me, I did.”

Burning up, you rip your gaze away from the device, trying to erase your filthy thoughts. Especially of him and his ex-wife. “She seems nice. Beautiful, too.” He hums, slipping his phone back into his pocket. 

“I can tell you have a soft spot for kids.”

“I don’t want to scare you off, but it’s an obsession. I can’t wait to be a mommy.” He swallows a groan at your innocent wish. “I would try to be the best; I just know I would.” 

The Austrian rubs his arm. “It’s getting late. Are you still going to be around?” 

You yawn. “I think I’m out of here, too.” 

“Can I take you home?”

The sexual tension is as thick as thieves. It suffocates you whole as you stare out the window of his Mercedes Benz. His digits taps against the leather wheel, legs barely fitting from how massive he is. Head almost touching the roof of his car. I swear I’ll go back to school, God, but please help me keep the last bits of my dignity. 

“How tall are you?” Come again? You gulp. “What’s your height? Curious, that’s all.”

His head rolls back, Adam’s Apple jumping up and down. “Meters or in feet?” You bite down on your tongue. Smart-ass. 

“Feet, if it’s okay with you,” you reply sarcastically. He clicks his tongue in amusement.

“6’5.” 

“Oh my God.” You smile sheepishly when he frowns. “You’re huge.”

“They normally say that after I have sex with them, but thank you.”

Heat rushes to your cheekbones and the tip of your ears. “You know what I meant.”

“Oh, of course, my mistake.” Pulling into your small driveway, he blinks slowly. “You live here?”

“Yes, don’t drool over it, please,” you growl at his rude tone. His brown eyes spin towards you when you hurriedly grab your things. He grabs the back of your dress quickly and you freeze.

“I didn’t mean it like that, it’s lovely, but I just thought…you said you made good money?”

High heels crunch against small pebbles as you scowl at the fifty-two year old. “I want to go back to Uni and I’m saving up, is that so wrong?” He’s embarrassed now, fixated on the empty passenger seat. You scoff. “Glad we agree. Good night, dickhead.”

Toto lets out a quiet laugh. Your eye twitches at the sound. Marching over to his window, you click your fingers as he rolls it down. This is funny to you? “Not at all. You acting like a child is.” 

“I am not acting like a child—”

“Oh, you’re not? Fuck. Again, my mistake.” Grinding your molars, you glare at the brunette. He aims for a soft smile. “I wasn’t making fun of your living arrangements, please, do you really think that low of me?” You look away, wiggling your neat brows. “Come and live with me.”

“Excuse me?”

He climbs out of the car, making you stumble back. “In the meantime, while I’m here, which is not for long. When I leave, you can keep the house.”

You grow light headed from his delirious offer. “Are you asking me to have sex with you in return for a new home?” His jaw drops.

“No, I’m being a good friend. You’re a sweet girl who has dealt with some shitty people and I want to help. Please, accept.” His voice is soft but somehow demanding. As if he already knows you’re going to agree. 

Inching closer, you poke his chest. He raises his arms. “Are you real?” Super real, he states, rolling his chocolate eyes. What do you say? 

“But my things—”

“I’ll send for them.”

“My downpayment—”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Cool!” you cheer. “Let me just go grab my boyfriend.” His smile falls. Letting out an evil laugh, you clutch onto your stomach. “Ha! You should have seen your face.”

He pinches your forearm and you yelp in surprise. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“Too late,” you yodel as you skip around, back into the black Mercedes. “You’re going to regret it anyways.”

-

We still have to talk about the preparations required for the unveiling of the W15. Please tell me you haven’t forgotten? 

Massaging his temples, Toto grimaces. “I haven't, but also, we don’t have to. It’s all ready to go; George and Lewis just need to show up.”

Elizabeth gasps. “And you.”

“Elizabeth, that was implied.” The assistant hums sheepishly as she continues talking his ear off. He groans. “I’ll be there, don’t worry. You’re doing a great job, keep it up. And please, enjoy your break. You’re going to wish you had when the season starts.”

“Of course. Take care, Toto.”

Once they hang up, he picks up on reading through articles about everything and anything people have been saying about Lewis’ new contract with Ferrari. He was happy for his driver, but it still stung. 

“You look tired.”

Chocolate eyes direct over to you where you stand with an oversized t-shirt and a pair of panties. At least he hopes. “Oh, y’know. Catching up on work. Can’t be gone for too long, if not things get out of control.”

Rolling your eyes sarcastically, you slide your way closer to him. “Can I see?”

“See what?”

Squinting at the screen, your eyes glimmer brightly. “I love all things gossip. It’s my guilty pleasure.” Taking a seat on his thick lap, your delicate fingers start playing with the keypad. He grunts, placing both hands behind his head as his jaw ticks. “Charles Leclerc and Lewis Hamilton: The Unstoppable Duo.” You giggle. “He’s cute. Take it back, they both are.”

He lets out a strained chuckle. “You’re evil.” 

Tossing your hair over your shoulder, you shrug. It looks so soft, he’s itching to run his fingers through it. “I see why you’re upset about this whole—‘I want Lewis! No, I want Lewis!—thing.” His smile falters. “It’s brutal.”

Hauling you off of his lap, he places you on the chair next to him, hoping you wouldn’t notice his hard print. “Is it?”

“Mhmm,” you chirp, chin propped onto your knees. “You must not mind people talking about you.”

“I do mind. I mind a lot.”

Perplexed, you take in his exhausted state. You never wanted to be famous, and seeing him live like this made you realize you had made the right choice. With slight hesitance, you brush his hair back; he sighs in relief. “It’s good to take breaks in between. That way you don’t have a stroke, old man.” His eyes fly open.

“Just because you’re younger, that doesn't mean I’m about to drop dead, sweetheart.” You squirm, forcing his orbs back closed as he squirms at the clumsy action. 

“Wanna feel something nice?”

Toto’s mind wanders to a steamy place once you leap off your chair. His chest heaves up and down from nervousness, hearing your soft steps. Straddling him, you press a soft kiss onto his cheek. Relax, Toto. He nods, grips onto the sides of the wooden chair, knuckles turning ghost white. Digging your hands into his broad shoulder, you begin to massage him at a steady pace. He moans. “How are you so good at this?” Your lips curl.

“I like to think I was a masseuse in my past life, now shhh.” 

The brunette’s main focus was between two things; actually letting loose and enjoying the much needed massage and the urge to slide your panties to the side and fuck you senselessly. Both were pretty good ideas in his book.

“Stop grunting,” you whisper in the nook of his ear as he shudders. You bite down on your pouty lip, leaning all the way back, and his hands instinctively reach out to catch you. His brown eyes flutter open as he admires the way you tower over him, even as you lay back, but also the way your fingers push adamantly against the knots in his shoulders. He growls animalistically. “What did I say, Mr. Wolff?”

Cold stare. “What am I supposed to do, then?”

Grabbing his large hands, you place them over your hips, an inviting smile dancing across your pink lips. Squeeze if you have to. He almost comes inside his pants as you lick your lips once more before continuing your actions. And it almost seems like you want to get a rise out of him. To make him groan, moan, grunt, cry out— for you. 

Purposefully, you dig your knuckles extra hard before pinching down with your nails. He hisses, grasping your sides hard as he throws his head back, floppy hair hitting the chair. You force a whimper away as you feverishly grind against his crotch. That kind of hurt, Toto.

“Fuck…I’m sorry,” he spills out as he starts a massage of his own. You smirk, repeating the same painful actions, pushing him to do the same as before. This was no longer a peaceful massage, you both knew that. It really hurts, you whine as you place a small hand against his chest, hips moving feverishly against his rough pants. The burning sensation makes you let out a pathetic wail as you rest your head against his shoulder. “A-are you okay?”

Then, you press your forehead against his; lustful gaze challenging him while tears cover up your pretty eyes, making them shimmer even more than before. “Never been better.” With one last rub against his slacks, you’re climaxing as you plow your red nails onto him.

Gasping for air, you return to tracing soft circles against his wide shoulders as he’s left dazed and confused. His cock still hurts from how hard he is, but you don’t seem to notice. Or you ignore it. It doesn't matter, because you’re already jumping off him, lips bruised from how hard you had bit down.

“I thought your hands would hurt a lot less, Toto. You ought to be nice to me.” 

Then, you’re skipping away, back into your room like a shy rabbit.

-

After the encounter in the dining room, you pranced around as if nothing had happened. Maybe nothing had. Toto’s mind was probably playing tricks on him because there was no way you could act so nonchalant, hallowing your lips around the cherry popsicle. Is it red? You stick your salivating tongue towards him.

“That’s a dumb question.”

You frown. “Grump.” A beat. “Can I take the Mercedes on a spin?”

“No.”

The frown grows deeper. “Why not? I swear I won’t scratch it. In fact, I won’t let anything happen.”

“Tempting, but still no.”

“Fine,” you grumble, munching down on the icy treat. He smiles, fingers typing against his computer. Can I ride you? His digits freeze midair as he flickers his brown eyes over at you. Holding the car keys directly to your face, you hum playfully. Yeah. Why not, Peaches? Just take care of me! “Of course, my sweet Benz. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“You are worse than my four year old.” He inhales sharply, rolling up his sleeves as he tries to ease his crazy heartbeat with water. You giggle.

“He said yes.”

“The car talks now?”

You blush. “That’s what I’m sayinggg…”

Analyzing the strand of hair that hits your chin, he folds his hands. “How did you choose Peaches as your stage name?”

You swallow the last piece of your popsicle. “It’s not an interesting story. I have a co-worker who goes by Foxy because she once fucked a fucking grandpa in the woods and he died of a heart attack once he saw a fox. Pretty cool, huh?”

His jaw drops. “You’re crazy.” Shrugging, you kick your legs up on the armrest. He swallows. “But I still want to know. No matter how boring it may seem. I can guarantee you I won’t think the same, pessimist.” 

Gingerly squinting your round eyes, your lips for a thin line. “When I was younger, my mom would bring me a peach everyday after work. That way, when she would pick me up from school, she would have it ready. The sweetest ones were during summer, of course, but the ones out of season were still pretty good. Up to this day, I still don’t know how she got her hands on those.” He nods. “Simple as that.”

“I think it’s sweet.” His long legs stretch out to kick your chair away. You squeal. “Makes you seem a tiny bit human.”

“Hey!”

He smirks. “Way better than Foxy. That story is just a murder case waiting to be taken to trial.”

“She did receive a handsome inheritance,” you whistle and his eyes grow wide. You snicker. “I’m kidding.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he lets out a heavy sigh. “Do you enjoy your job? Is this what you want to do for the rest of your life?” You shake your head.

“Wait, let me rephrase. I do enjoy pole dancing. So many outsiders assume we’re sluts, but it’s not like that. It’s an art, whether you believe it or not.” I agree. You grin. “I have fun, but no, I don’t want to do this forever. I want to be an elementary school teacher.”

“Really?”

You wince. “Seems inappropriate, I know, but I think I could be really good at it. I would cut them slices of sweet peaches any chance I get. I’ll even figure out where to buy some more once the season ends.” Scooting closer to the table, you flick your wooden stick onto his lap. He aims for a deadpan expression. “And I just want to make it clear that I do not sleep around. But when I do, it’s because I want to. I have needs too, Toto.”

The fifty-two year old grinds his teeth together. “I’m sure you do.”

-

Wobbling against the shiny tiles, you gasp before a warm hand saves you. You let out a breath of relief, turning to see Toto shaking his head in disapproval. 

“This is why you should leave to work on time. Now you’re just a mess.” Glaring at him, you fix your rollers as you walk out onto the private driveway. You were excluded from the rest of society, but part of you liked that. “How are you even going to get there?”

Spinning around, you almost crash into his chest before you regain your composure, close proximity making you struggle to find the words. “Toto, I never told you this, but…I can fly.”

“I’m being serious.”

You shrug. “I’m going to take the bus. Go back to your precious emails.” As soon as you twiddle your finger, he scoffs. 

“I would take you—”

“But you’re busy— it’s fine.”

“Can you stop talking?” Beady eyes narrow up at him as he continues. “But I can’t because I’m drowning with work…You can take the Mercedes.” Your eyes light up. 

“Are you fucking with me?”

He wishes he was fucking you, but no. “You better treat it like your own.” You click your tongue. See, you shouldn’t have said that because now my alter ego just grew. He points accusingly and you scrunch your nose. I promise. Handing you his keys, he watches carefully as you pull away, blowing him a kiss. 

A few hours pass by before he feels the need to check up on you. He tries texting first. Busy night? Nothing. He tries calling. Nothing. He starts thinking you might've crashed on your way there, so he hurries out the door. 

Paying the taxi driver, he marches past the doors as he is handed a piece of paper. He smiles back politely. “Don’t you guys think we’re past this?” The men take a quick glance at each other before nodding. Have a lovely night, Mr. Wolff. 

Loud music makes the brunette wince, face twisting uncomfortably. Brown eyes study the club as he tries to decipher where you could possibly be. Maybe you didn’t make it and he was right after all. Jogging over to the bartender, Toto pants. “Peaches? Have you seen her?” 

The young man points to the glass box, where you start your set. He sighs in relief as he takes a seat, rolling up his sleeves as he admires. Everyone cheers as you smile erotically. The Austrian can’t help but be one of them too. 

Spotting him, you freeze. You narrow your eyes for a split second before you snap out of it, continuing your desirable movements. The music ends and just like that, you’re done. Hollering echoes the room when you brush past by. 

“What are you doing here?” 

A cheesy grin plays out. “I came to see you.” Weren’t you busy with work? He shakes his head. “Well, yes actually, but I thought you were dead in a ditch when you didn’t reply to my message or answer any of my calls.”

“Why could that be? Oh. Maybe because I’m working,” you hiss. “Listen, if you’re here as a client— fine. But if you’re here as Toto— leave.”

He narrows his eyes sharply and your breath hitches. “It’s Mr. Wolff, darling.”

You purse your lips. “Very well, Mr. Wolff.” Strutting away, you make sure you sway your hips. The brunette groans, falling back against his chair. 

The night flies by as usual, until they book you. “Mr. Straforx, sitting in the back booth,” Ro informs you as you suck on your bottom lip, listening attentively. “Interested?” 

“Very.”

“Actually, I am too.”

The rich accent makes your stomach flip as you muster up a stern glare. Toto’s lips form a firm line as he stands as tall as a sequoia. Fuming, you shake your head, perfectly done hair slapping your face. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Wolff, but I already agreed to somebody else. But rest assured, if I have time left, then I will get to you.”

“Is money the issue here?”

Your jaw ticks, temples grinding together harshly. “You think that’s all I care about?”

He shrugs. “I could lie and say no, but who am I kidding? We all care about money.”

Flustered, you scoot closer to Ro, who stands amused with the entire interaction. “Ro, tell Mr. Straforx that I’ll be there in a minute, and make sure to apologize on my behalf.” The older man nods, tipping his head towards the Austrian as he strolls away. “What are you trying to do, Toto?”

His lips flip to a teasing smile. “Mr. Wolff.”

“Oh, don’t you dare pull that card on me.” Your face pinches up. “This is an important client, I can’t say no.”

“How much do you want in order for you to come with me instead of him?” Your berry lips separate. “Name a price. I’m a self-made billionaire, sweetheart—a couple of millions are nothing to me.”

“I could never ask for you to do that,” you whisper, timidly fiddling with your necklace. “Deal with it. You’re not my boyfriend.”

His nose flares at the cruel reminder. “I never claimed to be. I’m a client.” Pause. “Two million.”

You gasp. “Are you insane?”

“You’re right, that’s childsplay. How about five?” When you still don’t say anything, he grins devilishly as he places a large hand on the lower part of your back. “Ro! Yeah, tell Me. Straforx that she’s coming with me. I’ll give you a bonus, don’t worry.” Your friend nodded happily. Press the button if you need anything. 

You roll your eyes, sourly. “Thank you, Ro. Thank you so much.” Pushing you into the private room, you yelp. “Let go of me!”

The brunette scoffs. “Calm down, I was barely even touching you.”

Shivering, you focus your attention on the luxurious drinking options. Half of these were probably worth what you make in a year, but the rich fed off of that. The brown eyed man hums. “Is that something you’re interested in?” You quirk a brow. A drink? He shakes his head. “Do you want me to touch you?”

You blink up at him swiftly, rubbing your thighs together. “You’re reading into it. I don’t.” Digging his large hands into his pockets, he clicks his tongue. Okay. Then ask me to leave. We can pretend none of this ever happened. A sad whine bubbles up your throat as you fear that he might actually walk out if you even dared to imply. “Just don’t be a jerk.”

A threatening chuckles booms past his lips as he serves himself a drink you can’t even pronounce. He takes a slow sip before he raises his glass up towards you. “You’re getting to me a  bit more than I’d like to admit. I mean, you must know that, right?” Demented, you play with your dress. 

Tonight, you were cosplaying a wide-eyed devil. There was nothing threatening about your appearance, not if you didn’t count your crimson red lips. Plump, round, tempting. Your black gartner drives him to complete insanity as you bite down on your bottom lip, nervously. Your red dress is too short for his liking, but only because others get to enjoy the sight of your heavenly legs. The ones he was drooling over to nuzzle his face in between. Then your horns tussle your hair messily as you pant. He hasn’t even touched you and you were already dripping.

“That’s not true, Mr. Wolff.” The grin widens.. 

“You can call me Toto when we’re alone, sweetheart.” You shiver, lowering your gaze. No, you were right. It has to stay professional in this setting. The brunette rolls his tongue before squinting his eyes at you, fine lines forming. The sight alone makes you melt. “You should have thought about that before you came all over my thigh.”

Shocked at his vulgar words, you bat your eyes, flustered by the reminder. You had done that. But you had the upper hand that day and that was long gone as he towered over you. Inching closer, he drops down to his knees, him still appearing taller even with the action. You squirm. 

“You were not playing fair that day. How come you only got to finish, and I didn’t?” You were hurting me, you cry out like a child as he scoffs at your weak attempt. Tugging you closer to him by your smooth legs, he droops them over his wide shoulders. Oh God. Turning his head to the side, he presses warm kisses. Your skin burns with every single one. “You know that’s not true.” Then, he’s hiking your tiny dress up.

Toto is hit with instant lust as he spots the wet patch of arousal. You whine, legs shutting around him. Do something—anything—but please, touch me. The corner of his lips lift up as he bites onto your red undergarment, pulling it down. Oh, you sigh at the intimate vision. Once you’re on full display, he groans. Your pussy glistens back at him, begging to be stretched out. “You’re…”

Humming, you place your soft palm against his cheek. “Toto…”

Like a starved man, he dives in, lips sucking on your clit as you fly forward, eyes screwed shut. He eats you out as if this was his true calling in life, the way he pinches your hips when you rock yourself against his face. He’s enjoying every second, every drop, as you find pleasure with the way his tongue swirls inside of you, finding new places you didn't know existed. The brunette nips quickly as you gasp, then he strikes his tongue. Warm sensation settles inside of your stomach. T-toto, holy fuck, oh my God. 

You can feel the way he grins against your pussy as he continues his handy work. Slurping your juices, his dark eyes find yours as you pant, light sweat fanning your face. His large hand presses your dress down, further adding to the friction as your tummy is pushed down as well. Wailing, you writher an embarrassing amount that would normally have you pouring out apologies if it weren’t for his strong gaze. 

“Taste so sweet,” he chants, kitten licks taking place. Your head rolls back against the couch, hand clutching onto his hair as he grunts. “Open your eyes for me, schatzi.” But you’re too busy trying to make this moment last, ignoring his command. Pressing his nose against your small hole, you squeal and look down. A coy expression takes over as he pulls away and rubs his fingers against your puffy clit. 

“You s-so fucking good at this,” you pant, chest rises up and down, horns sliding down a bit before he extends his long arm, pushing it back. Your chest tightens. “I know what you’re going to do…Go easy, please.”

Taunting circles edge you further as he bites the squishy part of his cheek. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to try and make your fingers fit.”

Your words come out menacing as you scrunch your eyebrows together, a worried look clear to the Austrian. Kissing the inside of your thigh, he nods. “You’re an extremely smart girl.” Another kiss. “I’ll go slow. You won’t even feel any discomfort, just pleasure.”

“Wait!”

Panic strikes his face as you disconnect his left hand from your breast. Bringing his hand up, you inspect the wedding band. Why are you still wearing this? He groans. “Publicity. No one knows yet. They won’t know for a while, so I can’t take it off until then.” You hum, then slide his ring finger into your mouth. You can taste yourself, long digits immediately hitting the back of your throat as you gag. “What are you—”

Then he feels it. Your soft tongue and the way it lubricated the steel before you gently bit down and started pulling his hand back. His cock grows more pained from how hard he’s become. With a pop you smile, eyes crinkling as you show off the metal. “Better.”

“You’re…” I know, you seductively whisper as you return his hand to where it laid. Is that not what you like about me? The man practically growls as he slams two thick fingers inside of you. Your body jolts as you cry out. So good, Toto. His cock twitches at you ragged praises. His fingers barely even fit inside your tiny hole, but it sure as hell reaches your g-spot. White splotches burn your eyes as you dig your nails onto the side of his thick neck. 

“Just like that. Oh, Toto.” He adds a third finger, and you hiss at the burning sensation. “That’s too much! Fuck.” He makes up for it, drawing figure 8’s between your velvety walls as you open up to him. Your legs start to slip down his shoulders as he spits. Keep them in place. You whimper, but obey, nonetheless.

The pad of his fingers continue assaulting your sweet spot, curling at a perfect angle. Your moans grow louder. Chocolate eyes flicker up to face your fucked up state. “Close?” You nod, vigorously. A warm strip teases your slippery lips. “Good. You’re doing so good, Peaches.”

Your hips buck suddenly as you suffocate him with your body, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all. Picking up on your candy nectar, he groans like a madman, greedy tongue swiping to lick every last drop. Shuddering at the feeling, you push his head away from in between your legs and grab him by the collar. For a second, he thinks you might kiss him, but when you don’t he realizes he’s disappointed. Instead, you plant a kiss on his cheek, hot breaths wrapping around his skin.

“Guess that makes us even, Mr. Wolff.”

-

“And then I rode a pony! I begged mama to let me get on a horse instead, but I just got a good scolding. But you would’ve let me, right papa?” Toto theatrically grins at Jack. 

“Don’t tell her, but yes. I would have let you because you're a big boy now, aren't you?” The four year old nods, blond hair covering his eyes as he brushes it away with powdered hands from his donut. I miss you. When are you coming back?

Pressure tugs at the Austrians chest as he sighs. Jack was too young—he wouldn’t understand that he and Susie would no longer be living together. It was a mutual decision to tell him when the time was right, but it still killed him to lie to his son. Especially when he beams back with bright eyes. Toto winces. “Soon.” A pin drops. “Have you eaten your vegetables for the day?” Jack sprints away.

A soft laugh is heard from the other side of the screen as Susie comes to view. “He has not, by the way. Hi, Toto.” The brunette waves. “Are you actually busy with work or are you trying to forget about all your fatherly duties?” 

“Is it that obvious?”

The blond chuckles. “Whatever it is, it’s great that you’ve taken time to yourself. Just don’t take too long.” Signing off, the fifty-two year old is left staring at his own reflection. 

“He’s cuter than the pictures.” Toto flinches with surprise. Standing in a summer dress, you lick your lollipop. “His voice is super squeaky; it’s adorable.”

“Do you need something?”

His question may seem rude, but it’s not meant to come off as so. His voice is filled with genuine concern as he furrows his brows. You shake your head. “I’m bored, that's all.”

The brunette scoffs. “And by all means, you came to bother me.” A giggle dances out of you as you brush your hair back. Your sweet scent reaches him, even though you stand far enough away to make a run for the hills. “But I do have time. What do you have in mind?”

“I want to talk to my mom.” Your words shock him but he listens attentively, watching you as you sit on top of the table, legs swinging with rigidness. “I want to try and fix things.” He frowns. But you’ve done nothing wrong. You shift in an uncomfortable manner. “Well…”

“What did you do?”

“Remember how I got a restraining order, but I’ve never stepped close to Rosie?” He nods. You nibble on your thumb. “I s-sort of lied.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’ve met her, kind of…” You pout, hazed expression carving out through your doll features. “But I can explain.”

He sighs. “Please do.”

Your cheeks flush. “A few weeks before I met you, Connor called me. And I picked up. He told me he was willing to let me meet my sister, but only if I let him borrow fifty grand. To be honest, I don’t care if I never get my money back— I just wanted to be able to recognize Rosie’s face. Of course I said yes.” The Austrian listens carefully, loopy eyes dedicated to you. “I bought her ballet shoes, the one’s I told you about.”

“She was perfect. She giggled like the most angelic thing and her eyes crinkled in a way that made me love her instantly. I asked why Connor needed the money and if they were in trouble, but he only ignored me. Then he tried to kiss me.”

“He what?”

A timid smile plays out. “It’s okay, he does that sometimes, but I’m always able to push him off because most of the time he’s drunk out of his mind. I don’t normally care, but he had Rosie… What if because of some stupid mistake he put her in danger? I gave Rosie her gift and paid an Uber to take them back home.”

“My mom found out about the meet-up and marched right to my work. Don’t ask me how she got in. She yelled at me with such anger that I almost wanted to cry. She said I wanted to steal both Rosie and Connor from her. I promised that wasn’t true, but she didn’t care. Then I got my restraining order.”

The brunette’s words get stuck as he gapes at you. Clearing his throat, he drums his fingers against the table. “You should have told me the truth,” he begins. Hurt slashes your face—you thought he would understand. He offers a friendly smile. “But still…you’ve done nothing wrong.” A beat. “I can help you. Well, my lawyers can.”

Tears form inside your jello eyes. “Are you serious?”

He nods. “Your sister can’t grow up in a household that doesn’t want her, but keeps her just to twist the knife. Connor will pay for what he’s done to you.” Leaping off the table, you cross your arms. No. You can’t bring that up. He sends a sharp glare. “What he did was wrong, can’t you see?” Your bottom lip wobbles. She’s going to hate me even more. Tenderly, he sighs as he strolls over, cupping your face. “She shouldn’t, but if she does, at least you’ll be free from him. Has he only tried to kiss you?”

Closing your eyes, you release a wet breath. “He’s touched me a couple of times.” The Austrains eyes darken. Pushing his hands down, you quickly take a step back. “But by then I was due to move out, so it doesn’t really matter!”

“It matters a little,” he growls. “None of this is normal.” You flinch at his strong tone. “Sweetheart, tell me one thing; what would you do if God forbid, he did the same thing to Rosie?” 

You gasp. “I would murder him.”

“So, you agree that we have to do something about this?” Hesitantly, you nod. “I’ll reach out to my attorney as soon as possible. I promise you that all of this will get taken care of.” Muscular arms drape over your shoulders as he hugs you. Bewildered, you blink as you stiffen. “You don’t hug much?”

“Nope.” 

He booms with laughter, chest vibrating as you smile at the feeling. Everything about this feels right, so then why does that scare you?

-

He vows to be back as soon as he’s done with the car reveal. I don’t care, you reply as you pop a mint into your mouth, getting ready for work. 

You’re going to miss me, watch.

And damn him, the fucker was right—you did. A part of you wishes he would rush past the doors, yapping about he thought you were dead and didn’t ask for permission to take the Benz. But he was across the world, smiling wide at media duties as you watched behind a tiny screen. It’s good that he’s taking time to see Jack, too.

“Why are you sighing so sad?” Roxy asks, fixing her combat boots. “Not getting any clients? Though I doubt it. They love you.”

You let out a forced laugh. “I’m not sad—tired.”

The red head furrows her brows suspiciously before hugging you. Your arms dangle lazily as you scrunch your nose. She giggles. “Does this have to do with Mr. Toto Wolff? He’s hot—crazy hot.” She untangles herself from you. “He must be the devil himself.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh yeah,” she cheers happily. “But also, you’re totally in love.” Your stomach drops. No, I am not. Roxy rolls her eyes. “You’re a good liar, but you’re not that good. I’ve noticed the way you look at him. Like you want to eat him alive as you kiss him until your lips snap.”

You wince at the image. “You have a way with words…”

She beams, thin brows raising up. “I’ve also noticed that you haven’t gone into the private room since he walked in through those doors. So what, you’re just going to keep pretending?”

“You’re such a creep!” you squeal, delicate hand slapping her thigh. She squeals lightheartedly. You’re missing out on a shit ton of money. We’re talking dough. And yet you don't bat an eye because you don’t want anyone but him. Did I nail it?

You pinch your fingers together as you huff. “You’re crazy. Crazy. There is no way I could be in lo—” Hey! The ringing sound makes your blood run cold as you fear to turn around. Look at me. Foxy stares back at you with anxious eyes. Do you know her? Looking down onto your lap, you nod. “That’s my mother.”

“Oh shit.”

A dry hand yanks you by the arm as she spins you around. “I’m talking to you. Why won’t you look at me?” 

You flinch. “I’m working, you can’t be doing this—”

“I don’t give two shits if you’re working or not, if I say we need to talk, then we need to talk.” Ro shakes his head, distressed as he apologizes. I’m so sorry, Peaches. She said she was your mom and I…I didn't know what to do. You smile back softly. 

“Don’t worry. Can you get me a room?”

As soon as your mother enters the dark area, she whistles. “Fancy, but really? Bending over for any man willing to pay you a couple cents? That’s disgusting.”

Your cheeks burn up as you fight back tears. “What do you want? Is Rosie okay?” Panic rushes through your veins as you grab her by the shoulders, shaking her violently. She’s so thin, you think you might break her. “Is she okay, I said?”

“She’s fine,” she yawns. “So…this is what you’re up to? It always…catches me by surprise. Not really.”

“I had no choice,” you whisper meekly. “You gave me no choice.”

The older woman smirks. “Don’t you dare blame me. No one makes you do anything— this was your decision.” 

You let out a tired sigh. “Just tell me what you want…”

Her eye twitches, as if she remembers why she was so angry to begin with. “I got your complaint; you’re suing me for being a bad mother and Connor for…assaulting you? Do you realize how stupid that sounds?”

“I’m not lying—”

“Really?”

“Why would I lie?” you yell back, acid sliding down your cheeks. “I would never make up such a thing. He assaulted me countless times as you never did a single thing.”

“I never saw anything.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “You walked in on it! You called me a slut! I was seventeen for fuck sakes. But no—you blamed me for sleeping with your husband instead.” You take a good look at her; dark undereyes, frail figure, needles imprints everywhere. “You can’t keep doing this. You need to think about Rosie—”

“Rosie, Rosie, Rosie—I could not care any less about her! She just bugs with all her crying. It’s exhausting.”

“She’s just a baby.” Grabbing her hands, you soften your gaze. “If you don’t want her, fine, let me raise her…I swear I can do it.”

Your mother perks up. “You would do that?” Yes. Of course I would, you respond instantly. You’ll never hear about us ever again. Her thin hand cradles your cheek warmly, and for a moment, you let yourself lean against it. Then she pulls away and strikes you harshly, causing you to stumble back. “Why would I ever please you like that?”

Bring your hand up to your stinging flesh, you sob. “I-I…what?”

“Here’s what you’re going to do; you're going to drop the charges against me and Connor.”

“No.” 

She clicks her tongue. “Are you sure?”

Rising up with shaky legs, you keep a firm face even though it begs to howl in pain. “I said no. You’re not going to hand her over willingly, okay…Then I’m taking you to court.”

“Like hell you aren’t.” Tugging your arm, she presses her face insanely close to yours. You wince at the smell of intoxication; you can’t even tell what kind. “I will fucking kill you, do you hear me?”

You let out a wet laugh, ripping your arm away from her tight grip. “I don’t care. I don’t care anymore, but I am saving my sister from you two—no matter what.” Her nostrils flare as she heaves. You let out a sad whimper. “When did you become so inhuman? You used to be kind, beautiful, ha—”

“Heartbreak does that to a person,” she simply states before walking out, leaving you to yourself as you finally come crashing down.

-

He didn’t expect for there to be a racket, but the house felt awfully quiet. He knows you weren't at work—he had checked. He thought maybe you could have been out with friends, so he sighs before resting on the couch. He sits there for an hour or so before heading upstairs to take a shower. 

As soon as he enters the bedroom, he finds you covered with thick blankets as you cry. Alarmed, he rushed to your side of the bed. Oh my God, you shriek at the anonymous person before squirting. “When did you get here?”

“That doesn’t matter—what’s wrong?”

You hope brushing your tears away would stop him from asking questions. “What makes you think something is wrong?”

A pinched up expression maps out. Your chin forms a peach seed as you let out a weak sob and stand on the bed, making you the same height as him, throwing your arms around his neck. He’s stunned, but snaps out of it as he hugs you back, calloused fingers playing with your soft hair. “What’s wrong?”

“My mom visited me at work. She said some nasty things, but that doesn’t matter to me, what does is that she won’t let me adopt Rosie,” you muffle against his neck, salty tears wetting his collared shirt. “She’d rather raise her out of spite. She’s not made for this, she's malicious.”

“What else did she say?”

You pause, sniffling before pulling back with a reindeer nose. “That’s it.”

The Austrian lowered his gaze with subtle threat. “No, tell me everything she told you.”

“I swear that’s all.”

His brown eyes scan your face, but you remain still, only shaky breaths being released. He clenches his jaw. “Where does she live?” Your face drops. Why do you want to know? “Where does she live?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Stop being so stubborn and let yourself be helped—”

“I don’t need your help anymore, Toto!” You purse your lips, trembling hands brushing your hair back. Anger rushes over him as he inspects the purple bruise.

“Who did this to you?”

Sitting back down on the bed, your nose twitches. “I’m moving out.”

“Who fucking did this to you?” His voice is lethal. Thank you for trying to fix things, but I’m sure I can do it myself from now on. “What you don’t seem to understand is that you don’t have to. It was your mother, correct?” Forlorn, you agree with your silence. “What have they done to you?” he whispers, pain lacing his raw voice.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this,” you whisper, salty tears sliding down. “I’m going to kill your image—they’re going to hate you because of me.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” the brunette ricochets back. “All I care about is that you’re okay. That you find the happiness you deserve to have.”

Grimacing, you sniffle, shaking your head. “I’m starting to think that doesn’t exist. Or at least I’m so unlucky that I won’t get a piece,” you joke. “The closest thing I’ve felt to that is when I met you.” His heart melts as he stares back, adoringly. “You’ve helped me in so many ways, Toto. Thank you for that.”

“But—”

“I know.” Rising up on the fluffy bed, you tower over him a bit, pressing kisses on his temples, cheeks, nose, neck. “You’re the only man who's ever made me feel something real. I can’t explain it, but I hope it makes sense.” 

He gulps. “It does. You want to know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve made me feel the exact same way from the moment you stepped into my life.” He closes the gap between you two as you stumble back against the mattress, but his large hands prevent you from getting away. “You’re not perfect—you’re flawed. You don’t have your life together—but you’re trying to. You’re not the tough girl you make yourself out to be—but that’s because you feel the need to build up walls to protect yourself from others.” Your stomach churns with every word he speaks. “And somehow…you have me wrapped around your finger.”

It happens so quickly, the way he presses his lips against yours. He can taste the saltiness but doesn’t dare to pull away. Like an animal, you move your mouth against his, whimpers flowing to his ears like symphonies. Toto knows why you never made the first move; you were scared to admit your feelings. But he was too.

Almost as if you read his mind, you run your fingers against his scalp as he breathes out, against your open mouth. “You won’t do the same, right Toto?” 

“What, sweetheart?”

Gloomy eyes reflect against his own. “Leave?”

“Unless you ask me to, then no.” He pecks your temple. “I can’t even imagine living without you anymore.”

That’s all it takes as you jump on him, silky legs wrapping around his torso like a piece of ribbon. He grunts loudly when you bite down on his bottom lip before letting go. “God, Toto, you’re—” As soon as he sucks on your throat, your sentence dies. Writhing against him, you try pushing him off as he chuckles, then he sets you down against the white sheets.

Immediately, you crawl back to the edge of the bed to where he still stands. Frisky hands tremble as you aim for his belt. Such a pretty girl, he thinks as you slip it off. You don’t have to do this. “I owe you, remember?” Then eager hands push his pants down, along with his boxers.

You knew he would be big, but that was an understatement. Toto was huge. Being 6’5 should have been a warning itself, but still. Drooling over his cock, you lick your lips, doe eyes fixating back to him. “I might not be able to take it all in my mouth,” you sheepishly state, red faced. The fifty-two year old has probably had a much better encounter; you were just making a fool out of yourself. Running his thumb against your cheekbone, the corners of his lips fly up. 

“I’ll walk you through it.”

Humming, you delicately wrap your hand around his length. Even just feeling it makes the heat in your belly grow. He clenches his jaw. Jerking him off, you wrap your lips around the pink tip. The Austrian releases a dirty groan, hips bucking as you smile around him. Pulling back, you stare up expecting the next step. Start off how you normally would. 

Pouty lips welcome him down your throat as you whine, the vibrations sending him into an orbit. When your palm slithers to what you can’t reach, he tsks. “You haven’t even tried.” Soft brows pinch together as if to say; Probably because I know I can’t either way. His nostrils flare. “Relax your jaw.”

Doing as you’re told, you gag as you squeeze your eyes shut and curl your toes. Your back arches, ass flying up as you struggle. A large hand reaches out to smack it. Yelping, you ease your mouth, thick member sliding down furthermore than you could have even imagined. There you go. 

Swallowing around him, you bob your head at a steady pace, reliving the steps, too scared to mess up. The Austrian throws his head back, sharp jaw in clear display as he pants. “Just like t-that, fuck. You’re doing so…shit.” While he’s enjoying himself, tears burst out as you clench your eyes, lashes becoming darker. The feeling is definitely getting him off, but he wanted to make things easier for you. 

Brushing your untamed hair back, he traces the bridge of your nose. Your orbs remain closed, and he finds himself missing them. “Breathe through your nose.” Ragged breaths fly out as your fingers dig against his thighs. He hisses. But gradually, it gets better. Glossy eyes stare up at him, lips stretch around his cock as you continue your filthy movements. 

As if to prove yourself to him, you deepthroat him even more as his head rolls back, floppy hair following along. Soft fingers brush against his legs as he shudders, face twisted with pleasure. Pulling away, you swirl your wet lips against his tip, feeding off of his precum before forcing yourself back down. 

Thick ropes of cum slide down your throat as you moan loudly. The brunette grunts, shaky breaths flying past his lips. With a teasing pop, you kneel up as you open wide. He moans at the sight of his release swimming inside your sinister mouth, then you swallow. Even though your throat is extremely sore, you still beam at him.

“Where have you been all my life?.” Climbing over you, he lays you flat, slipping your dress off. He’s stunned to find out you’re completely naked. Cherry red feathers on your cheeks. “Are you sure you didn’t know I was going to be back?”

Your lips curl. “No idea.”

He wraps his mouth against your bud as you whimper, hand massaging his head as he repeats his actions to the other. You could definitely fall asleep to this. When you open your eyes, you’re impressed to find out he’s completely stripped down, toned body exposed. The sight makes you grow excited, nervous.

“Are you on birth control?”

You curse softly. “I’m not. Crap.” Disappointed, you’re expecting him to climb off, but he doesn’t. Instead, he let out a raw chuckle. “I t-told you I don’t fuck men on the regular—”

“I don’t need the reminder,” he grunts. His brown eyes soften. “What’s your wish in life?”

Confusion paints your face. “To have you?”

“Cute.” Flustered, you focus on his contracting abs. Foaming at the mouth, you try to picture rubbing your core against them. “The other one,” he demands.

“Oh…” No. He can’t possibly mean… Your heart stops beating. “To be a mom.”

“There it is.” 

Briskly, he pushes into you as you wince in pain. I know, I know, he coos. But it’s better this way. It won’t feel so bad in a few minutes. Crying against his humid chest, your jaw hangs open. “It really hurts, Toto. Oh…it burns.” Hot tears reestablish themselves inside your orbs. “You’re too big.”

“Breath, sweetheart, breath.” His voice calms you down as your mewls lessen. “See?” You hum. “I’m going to move, alright?”

“O-okay,” you respond, dizzy. The feeling returns—less painful—but returns, nonetheless. Panic expands through your chest as you begin to think he might split you in half. His cock was just so thick and veiny. But it felt delicious between your velvety walls. “Fuck, baby,” you pant.

“I knew you could do it.” A warm peck lingers on your shoulder. “You feel so tight, schatz. So warm.” He sighs in relief as your tiny cunt compresses against his length, easing the pain from being as hard as a rock. Worse. Strong arms pick your legs up over his bare shoulders, making him travel deeper. 

“Toto, Toto, Toto—”

Eyes entertained against your slippery hole, he raises his brows. Yeah, baby? Getting a hold of his hand, you bring it over your stomach. His jaw clenches. “I can feel you.” Writhing in ecstasy, you toss your head to the side, small whines echoing between the vaporized walls. Pouding into you at a faster pace, he growls, bite marks being left behind on your legs. You hiss, clamping your eyes even harder, which makes you clench around his cock even more.

“Do that again,” he begs. “Do it—” You oblige, attention set on how he moans feverishly, hands adding pressure to your legs. For sure his imprints would be left behind. Taking advantage of the little power you have, you untangle yourself, greedily climbing onto his thick lap. 

“Looking good, Mr. Wolff.” 

He looked more than good—he looked eternal. The way his chest heaves, his soft pants, sweaty hair framing his handsome face, dark eyes praising you as if you were Athena herself. A confession finds into your brain as you halt. Beads of sweat cover his long nose as he appears concerned by the sudden break. Is everything okay? Rubbing your eyes as if you just had the worst nightmare, you blink hastily. 

Roxy couldn't have been right—she never was. Except, she is this time. It's as if a warm glow towers over him, your chest feels awfully vacant, but you’re not scared because you know your heart has found its home in the palm of his hand. You laugh in amusement as you touch his face all over. He smiles, eyes crinkling. “What’s so funny?”

“I love you, Toto Wolff.”

A lump forms inside his throat as he tilts his head. “You do?”

You shrug sheepishly. “I do.” Kissing his lips, you sigh with content. “I love you, I love you, I love you; I adore you.” He can hear the clock ticking as he stares back with his lips slightly parted. “You don’t have to feel the same, you dont have to say it back—I don’t care, but I can’t keep living a life of regret…”

“I love you, too.” Cartoon eyes blink back at him as he chuckles. “Do you believe me?”

“Uh…” Your lips stretch out. “Yes.”

Shifting on top of the Austrian, you make sure to slip him back inside as you moan in unison. Riding someone has never felt so addicting. Gasping at the raw feeling, you dig your nails onto his shoulders. When you look down at him, you are pleased to find him struggling to catch his breath. His fingers pinch your hips harshly as you bounce harder and faster, as if he would regret his words and leave you. “So big.” You drool, hair flourishing around you. “Stretching me out so good, Mr. Wolff.” He growls at you captivating words. “Making it so easy to ride you, huh? Cock brushing against the perfect sp—oh my God.”

Your face twists up with pleasure when the tip of his cock brushes against the mushy part that makes you almost black out. Movements slow down but it’s not long before he lifts you up and slamming you back down. “Toto!” you squeal, flimsy arms reaching out to balance yourself on his wide shoulders. Everytime he hauls you up and you look back at him, he represents like a giant. Your eyes roll back, mouth hanging wide open. “I-I’m close-e-e.”

“Me too,” he grunts. Like a devilicious man on a mission, he slaps your face carefully, forcing you to connect your glossy orbs with his loopy ones. “Gonna let me cum inside? Carry my baby, just like you’ve always wanted?”

“Yes,” you chant. “Yes—all of it—yes.” Cradling his cheek against your sweaty palm, you smile. “Cum inside of me, Wolff.”

With one final push, you both release loud moans, a strong wave of orgasms crashing violently against one another. Huffing, he makes a ponytail with your messy hair before letting go. “You think it worked?” You giggle.

“We’ll have to wait and see.” Leaning towards him, you kiss him gingerly. His mind grows blurry with how meaningful you make it seem. I’m yours—my heart is all yours—but please don’t break it, it seems to tell him as his enormous hands squish you closer to him, as if that were possible. 

“I know of a few ways we can make sure.”

-

Though you had mutually admitted your feelings to one another, there still didn’t appear to be a proper label to it all. Time was slipping, he would soon have no other choice but to leave and face all his responsibilities. 

But you can come back with me, he would desperately bring up as he fucked you against the wall. Tits would be bouncing at a hasty speed as you look back with your mouth in an O. I want you to. You won’t ever have to worry about anything, I promise. You can go back to Uni. You’ll get custody over Rosie, and Jack will be over the moon. We could have a family of our own, just you and I, Peaches. Huh? How does that sound, baby?

It sounded perfect; like a dream. You could taste it already. Early morning calls that you wouldn’t mind because he’d be laying down next to you. Quiet time as you jot down notes and he stresses over the next big decision for the team. And at the end, you would be glad you made the choice to choose him. Just like he chose you.

With shaky hands, you brush his messy hair back as he dotes on your bambi eyes. The way they glimmered extra bright that night; like starlight. The brunette’s face would soften up when you trace his nose, the curve of pink lips, his lines. Everything about him was breathtakingly dominant. 

You’d be a fool to deny. 

So, you accept. 

-

If Toto were to be told that he had died and ascended to heaven; he wouldn’t second guess the possibility. Because being with you felt exactly like that. Every passing second only adds to the amount of love he bottles up for you. It would overflow and he’d be okay; bring out the next. Oh, that one’s full, too? Okay, next. 

All of it made sense. You matched perfectly in sync with him like a cozy glove and he wouldn’t have it any other way. There’d be whispers from others, but he doesn’t care. He’d deal with just about anything for you. 

“You’re leaving so soon.” A click. “Have you thought about quitting?”

He can see you grow as stiff as a tree. Your back faces him, but he can still spot your reflection. Of course you looked absolutely lovely, but there was something different about…God. He doesn’t even know what to call it. 

“I’m not quitting.”

The Austrians' lips form a thin line; shoes clicking against the floor even more. A boom of lighting fills the room as you flinch. He smiles slowly. “Right—not yet, at least. Not until you move to Monaco.”

More heavy silence. “Sure.”

Now he’s worried. Strolling closer to you, he brushes his warm hand against your shoulder, kissing your exposed skin. “What is it?”

His heart stops when he notices you blinking back tears; bloodshot eyes tracing his tall figure. His first assumption is the most obvious; your mother and Connor. They had probably done something, said something, and now they’ve got you—

“I’m taking the car. See you later.”

He blinks. The cold demeanor was something unusual on your behalf, but leaving without a goodbye kiss was alarming. Toto tries to suppress his feelings with a bottle of scotch, but nothing seems to work. He has to see you. 

Gathering his wallet and house keys, he strides out the door before he spots his laptop wide open. As soon as he returned, he would have to answer endless emails, but for now, that wasn’t his priority. Inching closer, he reaches down to slap it shut when his pulse runs cold.

We should think about Jack.

He’s too young to understand anything of what’s going on, Suse.

Let’s just try one last time. I swear I’ll change. 

I love you. 

He knew instantly; you had read the messages. He had sent them, there's no doubt, but that was so long ago. The date was right there; all before he met you. Before opening up to you. But he doubts you spared enough time to spot the tiny detail. You saw his texts and that’s all; the rest was blocked.

Toto’s palms get sweaty, ears burning red, and heart racing faster than a fucking F1 car. How must you feel? You had made him promise that he wouldn’t hurt you and now this? The confusion was completely explainable, but he had to get to you fast.

It’s as if he owns the place, marching fiercely past the open doors that swing once they spot the Austrian. NDA’s were rather foolish when it comes to him now because he just held that much power. That much respect. But he can’t think of why something feels off.  You were hurt, and he felt awful, but no…there’s something else. As if there were an actual wolf lurking deep in the woods; ready to pounce. The hair in the back of his neck stands up, goosebumps forming, and eyes flickering all over the rich club, hoping to find you.

“Hey,” he pants when he spots the familiar redhead. Foxy lives up to her name because her laser glare has him scared for his life. She doesn’t even spare him a second glance before strutting away, a row of men following. The Austrian pushes past them all, pleading just like any other, but for a completely different reason. “Have you seen, Peaches?”

“Yes.”

“Great! Where is she?”

“Around.” 

The dancer beams at the group of businessmen who relax against their seat, hunting down without shame. They wore wedding bands, but who cared, right? Toto’s large hand grasps her wrist, tugging her away as she gasps, causing a commotion. He doesn’t care, he just has to find you.

Brown eyes glimmer threateningly but also soft because they’re both aware he needs her, for she only knows where to find you. “Listen, I know she told you what happened, but it was all some misunderstanding! The messages..they were sent to my ex-wife a long time ago. Before any of this, I swear…you have to believe me.”

Foxy narrows her thin brows, digging a sharp nail against his toned chest. “No, you listen—Peaches is one of the sweetest girls I have ever met; she's my other half, so when you hurt her…” A beat. “That’s it. She doesn’t forgive.”

His shoulders drop like an avalanche. “B-but it was a...you don’t mean that.”

The redhead struts away, long legs prancing like a vixen. “Believe me; don’t believe me—I don’t care. Just leave her alone.”

But he can’t do that anymore, he's in too deep. No matter how many times Foxy cursed him to leave, he just wouldn't. He would explain. Even if it were that last thing he did. All's fair after that. 

“Mr. Wolff?” A red drink is extended out towards him kindly, to which he shakes his head with a forced smile. If you can even call it that. He’s sure he looks awful, dressed in all black, but it perfectly represented him for who he is and how he was feeling. It’s almost as if he were ready to show up to a funeral. 

As time ticks at a snail's pace, he grows more nauseous. There’d be a moment where you see him and he doesn’t know how you would react. Fuck—he doesn’t know how he would, either. To some it may be embarrassing to weep in front of a group of worldly men, but if you looked at him a certain way where he knew it was over? He’d be the first, and without hesitation or shame. 

He’s come to recognize your set as fast as a racing strategy. The stage would light up a soft yellow; swallow the room like the early sun. The piano keys would start off slow, taunting, and almost sinister—Yayo. And of course, you’d prance around like a broken angel, wings brushing your hair like his long fingers would.

But this is strange.

He’s too busy analyzing the colorful club when the lights burn black, only the glass box raining a bright red. He doesn’t even recognize it’s you. 

The intro isn’t the notorious piano lullabies, but rather scratchy violins. Million Dollar Man slithers across the crowded room like a venomous snake, waiting to strike anyone who doesn’t lay their attention on them. 

And this time, you’re no angel, you’re no devil. You’re both. It’s confusing and alarming, but also beautiful and breathtaking. While your dress is cotton white, your makeup is dark and tempting, lips dark red. Your knee socks are tied with a simple ribbon, making men drool like some type of fuckery. You look miserably broken. If anyone were to guess, then they’d say that you’re high off drugs, but that’s not the case. You're high off heartbreak. 

And the simple necklace you wear, with his marriage ring attached to it, is a pelluid indication. Even if it was new level petty.

Toto is in such a trance that he doesn’t even feel when a group of hands push him to sit down, eager to have a clear view of their own. They all secretly envy the Austrian when they notice that he had landed himself the best seat in the house without even trying. 

So, was it fate to be sitting here, in front of you? Was it fate to have met, then hurt you without the means? The music is almost terrifying, along with your black wings and white halo. All of this is utterly puzzling; was he supposed to be into this, or fear it? Was he supposed to feel his heartbeat in the pit of his stomach, drumming against his ribcage, or was he supposed to be at ease? But most important; would you spare him this time to apologize, or would you kick him out of your life? The last notion scared him the most as he sat like a tired soldier, brown eyes blinking to where you start to seductively twirl.

I don’t know how you convince them and get them. Shiny legs drag behind your delicate figure as your eyes roam the room, sighing with every lustful stare. This is purely pathetic, it didn’t make you feel the way you intended for it to do, but shit. All you wanted to do was flee the state and never look back. But there were too many things tying you back; Foxy, Ro, Rosie…A stinging sensation begins to form behind your orbs and you fiercely blink them away, refusing for the thought of Toto to be what brings you down. 

But in a moment like this, what were you supposed to think about? Toto was many things; devilishly, cunningly handsome, tempting, brilliant, intoxicating; but he was also a fucking no-good, professional heartbreaker, a screwed up man who roamed earth without a sense of direction, who truly never deserved to fall in love again, especially with someone was tainted and loyal as you—

But the eyes don't lie. He’s become known by you; someone in your favorite book whom you look for in every page, despite it all. His orbs remind you of your favorite kind of dark chocolate, swirly and dreamy; enough to make you swoon, but they’re filled with more than just that. They’re desperate, as if ready to run endless miles if that's what it took for you to speak to him. They’re loopy, blazing nervously when you spot him, brows knitted with concern.

And he deserves it…you think.

Still, that doesn’t stop your stomach from churning, causing you to panic at the thought of spilling your lunch in front of everyone eyeing the glass box you're hidden behind; it could only ever do so much. Everyone can see your usually tantalizing persona fly out the window, a frail—shattered—girl taking your place. 

He’s tricked you. He made you let your guard down, let him in, and then ramshackled you whole; and he hadn’t been nice about it either. How could you have ever thought he would choose you over someone who actually held his kid for nine months? You had seen the messages that sunny morning; birds chirped, flowers bloomed. He had been busy doing God knows what, and when his bright laptop dinged, you couldn’t help but peek. As you once told him; you loved gossip.

Jack is asking if you remember where he last left his stuffed bear? You know, the one with the white spots? 

Susie. You had heard a lot about her—you’ve read, a lot, too— she was someone to admire. Helped create a path of perseverance for young girls; it was astonishing. The thought of Jack made you smile, then the bear, then her. Which is why you aimlessly scrolled once, playfully, and then you came to a rude halt. 

If someone were to grovel that way for you, you would helplessly fall for it. Fuck, he pratically begged for a second chance. Heat weaved through your body, anger rising, and then falling cruelly with a sense of undeniable ache. You had cried; sobbed. Then you got ready for work.

When he had asked what was wrong, you wanted to stab him with the nearby knife, and the thought scared you half to death. You could tell he was deeply wounded by the cold shoulder, but why the fuck should you care? 

Here—in Machiavellian Nights—trapped behind a transparent case, with disgusting men eyefucking you, you realize; there’s no place to run. An attraction is what you are; tourists are what they all represent. Toto’s massive figure swallowed his seat whole, long legs spread open naturally. And you hate it how handsome he looks, dark clouds painting his usually happy eyes. His chest dances up and down, wrestling to catch a breath. The hollers make him flinch in the slightest, grimacing.

The Austrian is apologizing, cryptically. I’m sorry—I’m so fucking sorry. His lips aren't moving, but you can hear his pleads as the music continues. 

C’mon! Dance, someone demands from afar, rough hand smacking the glass. Gasping, you purse your lips, continuing. Ignorance is horrible; especially coming from you. The idea of going on without you feel like a nightmare—torture. He tries standing up, and he doesn’t really know what his game plan is exactly in order to get to you, but heads turn and harsh arms force him back down. 

It isn’t that hard, boy. To like you, or love you. It was as if you got yanked back into what is truly your reality. You can’t have good things in life. Your father hadn’t died—he had abandoned you. Your mother did too. And Toto…

Toto Wolff was just the same.

You’re glad no one can hear you choking back on tears, you wouldn't dare to fall. But emotions were running high, your throat felt raw, your eyes stung, knees felt wobbly, and it was too much. But aside from your hurt, an eerie feeling hugged your chest, forcing your rib cage to poke you as a warning. You allow yourself to look back up, rapidly scanning the unlit room. Everything was blurry—which didn’t help—but what was it?

You’re no longer focused; your legs sway, your gartner slides down, your nose is starting to get runny, and it was all a mess. Connecting your gaze back to his, you narrow them down like deathly blades. This is all your fault, they scream at him, enraged. If you hadn’t walked into my life, then I wouldn’t be this way. 

You’re screwed up and brilliant. 

“You fucking ruined me!” Running towards the glass, you violently slap and punch, over and over until you no longer feel any pain. Red bruises form rather quickly and everyone begins to murmur.

Look like a million dollar man.

“I hate you, Toto Wolff!” Muffled whimpers flow like a waterfall as everyone turns to face the fifty-two year old who sits with a hurt expression. 

“I can explain,” he pleads, instantly rising up to his scary height and rushing over to where you’re caged. His large hand pathetically grasps it, fingerprints painting the shiny protection between you and him. “Sweetheart…”

So why is my heart broke?

“I’ll regret you for the rest of my—”

Chaos ensues; the volcano erupts. It’s suffocating, the way everyone tramples over one another, scattering like lab rats. The yells of terror make his blood run ice cold, swiftly turning around to face the open room. Foxy lets out a scream filled with agony as she crawls over to the stage. Acid slides down her face, makeup running. The other dancers run to hide where the bartender stands with his mouth wide open, orbs flickering with urgency. He doesn’t know what the hell is going on, but he has to get you out of here.

“Open it!” Foxy cries, hands hitting the clear box so forcefully that her nails begin to chip, light gore beginning to slide down. “Open the fucking stage right now!” She lets out a string of pleas, but no one is listening—they can’t even try to with all the loud noise. The alarms go off and that’s what snaps him out of his spot of confusion and what makes her cry and fall back against her arms.

The glass isn’t shattered like in the movies, all over the floor, no. There’s just a singular hole, scratches circling around it—and spikes of blood coloring the crystal clear mirror. 

Even with eyes closed, face sticky with tears, and blood spurting out of your mouth and chest, pooling around your angelic body, you were still beautiful. The ring lays flat atop your unbeating heart, shining one last time against the cherry lights. You were gone as soon as the bullet hit, but Toto was the last person you had seen. And you wish you had time to tell him you never meant any of it. You could never hate him; you loved him, you loved him, you loved him.

“I…no. No. No.” Fists punch urgently, cuts finding a place in his pale skin. “Open it!” More pounds. “Let her out! Why is no one letting her out?” Trepidation sleeks over him as he stops his actions, taking a second to look at you. Your dark wings had somehow turned darker, your white dress is now drowned in crimson red, your halo is no longer on your head, and your lively skin is now ghostly pale, almost gray. “Peaches…” His voice quivers so much, he almost doesn't realize it's coming from him. “Get up, sweetheart—come on, just stand.”

His chest tightens when you go unresponding. “T-think about Rosie! She loves you; she needs you. I need you,” he declares, voice cracking. “The text messages are a mishap! I only love you, Peaches, that’s all! I swear I do, I swear it’s you…”

He dreads to turn around and face what was now his life. The music cuts, but the frightful screams continue. Toto blinks back the stingy feeling as he flickers up to make eye contact with who’s responsible for ripping you away from him.

You share the same eyes, but hers are sullen now. Her hair looks as if it could have once been glossy, but is now as dry as the desert. Her lips are nastily chapped, but an uncanny curl slips through as she ticks anxiously when Ro and the rest of the guards hold her without an ounce of remorse, cuffing skinny, needled wrists.

Your mother looks down at the gun, at her daughter, then at Toto. An unhinged stare strikes her impentent face.

“I brought her into this world…I can also take her out.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

[acid-ixx]

I’m new, I just read your fic about neglect reader. I haven’t read through your blog yet but I am so excited after reading this fic. I am an emotional wreck right now and my curiosity is eating me alive with this question “Does reader know about Jason? Will they ever met? Ever have a platonic relationship together? Will Jason be more of a brother to reader?”

I’m sorry I speed through the fic and tears are in my eyes I couldn’t think straight BUT I notice that Jason is hardly there so I’m curious. Please this is such a brain rot, it’s way past midnight after I read this cause I keep stopping to cry.

major (?) spoilers below.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

hello anon !! im so happy ppl are getting more exposed to the content i have written so far. anyways, i can't believe i also got others to cry bec i did too when i was writing 😭

anyways, to answer ur question: yes! the reader will meet jason and he would actually be the first sibling you would meet after you have left the manor. the way he would turn yandere for you is a different approach to how the others would be because in the prequel, it has been stated that you had your fair share of encounters with him.

"will they ever have a platonic relationship with him/see him as a brother?" maybe, maybe not. because your meeting with him would all be a blur to you, and jason's obsession would stem from the trauma he had experienced, causing him to be more protective of you.

you're not in your best mindset and you're vulnerable walking through the streets of gotham and all alone? oh god, only a dumbass would do that— but once the red hood recognizes your face and the way you carry yourself so pitiably, he immediately tries to take you in his arms just as he should.

but the moment you push him away? tell him to fuck off despite your drunken state? the moment you cry and tell him you could deal with everything yourself without his help or anybody else's? you just remind him of himself and that triggers his first spiral into yandere-ism.

it's the way you share trauma, the way you both feel immense anger. he should've noticed sooner because you two would've been as close as peas in a pod. and yet he failed you by being a hypocrite. you were literally taken into the manor right after his death and discarded like you were mere trash. he should've taken you away when he had the opportunity to but he was too caught up in his feat of revenge.

yet the worst part was that he had taken notice of tim before he did you, and jason had momentarily hated you too because he thought bruce had replaced him. if he had looked through that veil of contempt that he had for you, and saw just how neglected and in need of attention you are, then he would've taken you under his wing.

but he didn't, and he had done the same thing to you as most did.

so take it as you will when i say you're more or less going to be closer (albeit unwillingly) to jason than anybody else because unlike his other siblings who are bound by their vigilante duties, your big brother jason wouldn't mind shooting any creeps who think they could touch his precious angel.

and he gets it, too, angel— you hate him, you hate them all and that's valid. but you can't just walk out in the streets alone and expect to be home in one piece; so leave it to him to scout your apartment alright? leave it to your big brother jason to intimidate the goons who try to stalk you when you're not looking. even if you don't want him near you, you'll always find warm food by your table and a note reminding you to take care of yourself more often.

it hurts when you rip the paper to shreds but it breaks his heart even more if you refuse to touch the meal he would leave for you, because that probably means you saw him as danger more than anything else. and he doesn't know it, but you're already planning to make a run for it now that you're under red hood's radar.

it's obvious that you have no experience when it comes to living by yourself, so please don't fucking push him away and let him protect you from any harm. your self destructive habits only causes him to become more protective of you and it only lets him stalk you more often to ensure nobody would touch his precious angel.

just like dick, you'll be treated more like a child than that of a young adult, but at least jason has the concept of personal space compared to your eldest brother. but still, jason wishes to hold you in his arms.

heaven forbid if the joker ever got his crummy fingers on you. jason would go berserk.

little does he know, little does your family know just how much they had lost the opportunity to keep you in wraps inside the manor.

they should've never let you out in the first place.

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Crinkled Polaroids

Ex-boyfriend!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Hi my lovelies, Lia here and I'd just like to say that this took so long and so much effort, I really poured my heart out on this one and I hope it goes well. Recently my biggest heartbreaks are the "What ifs", what if you two worked it out? Would things be different? Would Simon have the life you've dreamed for the both of you and the one he's been deprived of?

You might be asking me "Lia, what's up with all the angsty content recently, aren't you a fluff dedicated blog?" Well I feel ill, I just got off an extremely busy week and most of my drafts have been never ending angst because I lost ideas of a domestic fam with Simon but I still need to get something out for you guys okay? A random bedtime scenario written down at 3am and for the rest of my midnights during a photoshoot and exam week, what could go wrong?

I'm still waiting on what my beloved @connorsui's review has to say 👀

Disclaimers/Warnings: This is not proofread, also ANGST.

My CoD Masterlist

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thesnowurzikdjinn @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @fawnchives @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000

A relationship with Simon Riley going south, at first it started great as most relationships do with several minor bumps due to his past but no big deal right?

But Simon distances himself, more than what's healthy and yes, you do give him his space but there's only little time until closing and distancing off for a while could turn into something like neglect.

Little things like "I love you"s, "thank you"s and every verbal affirmation that you used to think you could cling onto was now non-existent, it hurts but isn't as hurtful when he refuses to touch you.

Back hugs you give would only give you a cold shrug in return, kisses you left were on cold chapped lips that remain still. At this point, you were better off loving someone dead.. then again, aren't you already doing so?

The life you've imagined for the both of you cease to fade in your head as the true reality of the man you love sets in, that dumb idea your younger self who had rose tinted glasses had to actually settle down with someone in such a short period of time of a few years.

You felt so unappreciated, it seemed like no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get him to see you. You felt cheated of the relationship you were supposed to have with him when you see others with the one you love and how he acts around everyone except you. You felt like nothing but a chore to him, an occasional fuck who cleans his home.

Then again, this is a broken man, you felt entitled to ask such a thing of him when he himself is also just healing from what his past had caused.

In Simon's eyes, he was doing you a favor, fucked up in his part thinking hurting you is the best way to save you from himself. It worked, that's what he wanted.. right?

So you leave, it was best for the both of you anyway right? Simon deserves someone who could actually make him happy and you deserve to feel loved in a relationship. Simon's life was a mess, truly, but he didn't realize how much more of a mess it was without you.

Coming home to an empty shell of a house, nothing to look forward to. He found himself almost on the brink of insanity, moving things all over his own home as if you were still there.

Always finding himself staring at that one wornout and creased polaroid of you and him, you were a silly one huh? A hobby of yours that left so much proof of your existence.

Begging him to be in a picture, bribing him with a kiss. Slightly smudged and distorted but still legible pen ink at the back as he flips the flimsy piece of thick, shiny paper.

Keep him safe for me, Ghost.

- Your favorite girl <3

You always thought of him as Simon and Ghost as just an alter ego, a mask that he needs to wear in order to stomach the violence that comes with his occupation.

You were the only one who can differentiate these two people. Tears started to form in his eyes but he blinks it away and shoves the polaroid back in his wallet.

He only started noticing changes when Johnny points out that he's become stone cold, a lot more silent, though he was known to be a ghost.. a shadow.. it wasn't like him to not even try to light up his mood with his dark jokes.

Everytime Simon thinks he gets over the pain, there's always one thing in that stupid house that reminded him of you. You weren't there but it sure felt like that you haunted every corner of the house and his mind.

Whether that'd be something you gifted him or an item of yours left behind, especially when the two of you shared moments with those items, oftentimes Simon tries to relive those, preserve his fading memory of your face.

This is what happens when the decisions you make have consequences on the one that your world revolves around.

A few years down this lane, nothing has changed for Simon, at some part of this never ending low point in his life he was under substance abuse.. alcohol to be specific, since to him it was easier. In concern of his captain, he did get help for it to which had progress.

Ghost kept it together, "today was a day to celebrate Gaz" he thought, blowing out the nicotinic smoke and flicking the ash off his cigarette after.. he knew Ghost's thing was more of a "let's drink and play pool in a pub" rather than a sit-down dinner kind of guy but Kyle insisted.

He thought about how awkward it was, although Ghost felt like he knew Kyle's family just from the lovesick fool himself who would never shut up, always finding a way to talk about his wife and their two kids.

After another puff, he throws the cigarette butt on the pavement and grinds the sole of his shoe over it, the soft hiss for the cigarette evoking, proving it was put out.

Simon walked a few blocks till stopping at the Sergeant's described location, his footsteps made smooth, satisfying taps on the wood floorboards of the porch and he knocks.

Price took liberty of being the one to open the door for Simon because the family was busy, Simon walked through the front door with ease, seeing Johnny somewhat interacting with a kid.

He was welcomed by the a cozy looking space, it was homey and clearly occupied, the shoes lined up on the shoe rack next to the door from the largest pair to the tiniest which was such a far contrast from his empty gloomy apartment.

The kid caught glimpse of Simon, they run up to him and take his hand to guide him into the living room as of to welcome him before bringing back their attention to Johnny and somewhat messing with his stubby mohawk.

The lieutenant observed his surroundings, the little toys and picture frames hung around the house, for a moment his heart drops to his stomach, he blinks thinking he must've been imagining things. Simon walked closer to it, he wasn't imagining it.. that was you, in a wedding dress, in the photo with Kyle.

You looked glowing.. as if you've never looked better in your life, that heart stopping smile on your face, the flowery bouquet on your hands. The green of stems highlight the precious metal band on your finger. Of all the people, places and time, why here? Why now? Why Kyle..?

For a few seconds, just a few when Simon thought his nerves and gut settled, he heard the sweetest voice that was all he knew.

He forgot what it sounded like, the effect it had on him, all too overwhelming for a man who tried desperately to run away from the consequences of his actions. I guess that saying that once you don't hear someone's voice as frequently, you start to forget what they sound like.

For once, the ringing in his ear is gone. Just your voice, all he needed, he closed his eyes for a few soaking in the fact that you're here. For a moment he forgets to take into account that you weren't his. You and Simon make eye contact, the smile on your face drops as soon as you realize who is in your home.. who your husband invited..

Dinner came around, you tried your best to stomach the food you made, every swallow was a challenge. You spent most of your time staring at the food below you, afraid to even spare a glance at Simon. He was as uneasy as you were, telling the group he had to go to the bathroom as an excuse to explore what you now view as your home. The place you built your family together with your husband.

Simon uses the stealth he was known for to sneak in all the rooms, starting with the closest, the kitchen. The pictures on the fridge were enough to catch his attention, polaroids were something he was all too familiar with. Photos of the kids littered on the cold metal box with magnets others were of you and Kyle.

Everywhere he glances was proof of the life you built, the life you could've had together if he hadn't taken you for granted. Simon returned to the table a few minutes later, you easily notice the sudden drop of his mood to solemn.

Constantly closing his eyes, the lieutenant's head was spinning, taking in the fact that Garrick was able to settle down with you in those few years, the same amount of time you'd been together and you both were never close to achieving what you had now.

The night ended with the mens' satisfied stomachs while you and Kyle play-fight about who gets to do the dishes. As all of them were about to leave, you gathered what little guts you had to at least try to talk to Simon as he's the last one out the door, away from the ears of your husband who's currently doing the dishes because the last thing you'd want is to ruin their friendship.

"Goodbye Si.."

Simon never thought he'd hear that nickname out of your lips ever again, he stopped, his feet felt like they were sinking on the ground. Before he knew it, Simon was back on your porch, squeezing you so tight. You tried to pull away but he only held tighter, head rested on your shoulder.

"One last, lovie.. please.." you sigh, your arms wrapping around him, you tried your best to sooth him as your palm runs up and down his back. You felt the sleeve of your shirt getting damp, Simon didn't cry often, but this was different. It wasn't silent at all like you were used to, he was straight up sobbing.

Simon pulled back slowly, you saw his puffed up and flushed face against his pale skin. You felt bad for Simon however what happened is what happened and you were content where you were no matter how much pain the past brings you.

Simon knows you're happy, he sees it, he cups your cheek with his hand. He was about to lean in and kiss your forehead like he always used to but he stops himself.

He wanted to be selfish, he wanted you again but he can't do that to Kyle and he knows this would only upset you so just like before, with a heavy heart he leaves.

Simon will forever let that sink into his heart, the only one he's ever love will forever be engrained in his mind. You will always be his favorite girl..

[stuffeddeer]

Hello! Are requests open?

If not, ignore this ask.

I wanted to ask you a beast dazai x neglected reader. Like, a reader who has been ignored and neglected from her entire family since she grow up. She no longer gets goodbyes, she has to cook for herself, her parents don't even acknowledge her when she's sick.

She's been recently accepted as a member of the port, more specifically a secretary of the one and only Dazai Osamu in flesh and bones. Just her luck, this so "scary demon prodigy" is also the sweetest most loyal and pretty boyfriend of her.

When Dazai finds out how she gets (or rather not get) treated at home, he gets genuinely pissed off!! And wanting her to just be good, he asks her if she want to spend sometime in his penthouse, far from that family, somewhere where all the attention she needs is on her, at least there Dazai can actually show her how much she's worth all the love in the world! Come on, she gave him a reason to live, how could he even accept she is living a shitty life in such an house?

Also, PLEASE, PLEASE. An au where beast dazai doesn't kill himself. Also, I love the concept that in every universe the reader and him are soulmates. Like, it's just so perfect I'm so in love with that idea!!

ALSO AGAIN OPS, i wanted to say that I LOVE LOVE your dazai SO SO SO SO SO SO SO SO MUCH!!!! I've recently stumbled into your blog and I MUST SAY THAT THIS IS JUST.. PERFECT???? I love YOU, deer, for all your wonderful ideas, I love THE ASKS, because damn all your asks give just as wonderful ideas as the one you write out, and I love YOUR WORKS especially the y!dazai like yes???? Just yes????

(My favorite character is Chuuya, but my soft spot for Beast dazai is actually insane, you don't even imagine how much I love that man. Also, because my heart just hurt and break each time people talk about Dazai being a cheater, THANK YOU??? THE ASK, AND YOUR REPLY, THANK YOU SO MUCH??? COULDN'T LIVE WITH THE FEELING DAZAI THAT CHEATS ANYMORE! THANK YOU THANK YOU)

Anyways.

Woah, this got long, I swear I'm not crazy..

Can I be ⏳️ anon if no one else is??

HIII ⏳️ ANON!!! im so glad you enjoy my works and my dazai!!! (as opposed to . asagiris dazai lmaooo)

im sorry this is so late 😭 but im back on the writing grind 😼

The lights were on in your boyfriend’s penthouse, a bolt of worry shooting down your spine at the sight. With his spare key haphazardly shoved into your pocket and door left wide open, you tiptoe into what should've been his apartment, trying to find out if someone broke in.

Dazai had asked you to stop by and drop off something at his place — not exactly standard work for a secretary but you were happy to assist your boyfriend. In your arms now were the groceries a different lackey had picked up and left on your desk. Normally Dazai would take them back himself, he said, but he would need to stay at work late and finish up some things. You were to take his place and make sure the refrigerated goods didn’t go bad. That’s what he said to you, anyway, which you found a bit confounding; Couldn't he have a lackey bring it up in your stead? Sure, Dazai liked to bring his own food to his home to alleviate the threat of poison, but it wouldn't be the first time he let it happen anyway.

While you had been a bit skeptical, pushing the topic seemed unnecessary since you were more than willing to do it either way. Any time spent far from your home and your family was time you cherished, so you didn’t think twice before accepting his stupid and unusual request and taking his spare penthouse key.

But now, you were regretting it. Anyone capable of breaking into the Port Mafia boss’s penthouse was not someone to be underestimated: you were in serious trouble. Cautiously, you hold the paper bags tightly to keep the food from moving around noisily before peeking into the kitchen: the room with the lights on. What could they be doing here..?

Plating dinner, apparently.

“Love! You’ve finally arrived - good. Take a seat!”

Your boyfriend was donned in a frilly pink apron you’re sure he bought just for this occasion, since you've never seen him in it before. With an amused chuckle, you stepped back. "Let me close the door then I'll join you."

After putting away all of the groceries he'd asked you to bring home for him - and realizing he already had all of these items in his cupboards and refrigerator already - you tug on the ribbon keeping the apron fixed against his neck.

The top half falls down from his chest, curling over the second tie around his hips and dangling loosely. "Undressing me already?" Dazai hums playfully.

"You're obnoxious." Next comes the tie around his waist, the bunched up apron fabric quickly pulled against your chest. You gently push Dazai to the side as you unfold it. "C'mon, I'll take over now."

Dazai huffs childishly, pouting dramatically for the full effect. "Hey!" He reaches out, snagging the apron from you and quickly tying it back on himself. Hands securely gripping your waist, Dazai lifts you from the ground and carries you - feet hovering just over the wooden floor - to the dining room, where an empty basket sits between variously sized candles on a decorated table.

On either side of the table are empty plates and fancy napkins, ones you hadn't known Dazai even owned, with cutlery resting on top. Two glasses sit on the table, one scotch and one wine glass, both filled with their respective drinks. Dazai sets you down next to the table, feet finally touching the floor once again while his arms snake out from your waist, making sure to pat your tummy once as his hand slides around it.

"Hope you're hungry - I made your favorite. It's all plated and ready to go, I just... burnt the bread you like. That garlicky kind from that restaurant we went to a few weeks ago? I gently requested the chef to give me the recipe and she happily handed it over! Of course, it must've been my handsome good looks that finally made her acquiesce rather than the gun in my coat pocket— "

Your wonderful boyfriend continues to prattle on and yet you barely register any of it, just thinking about how he knew you liked that bread and wanted to go to extreme lengths to recreate it for you. A bit timidly, you hold his hands in yours, giving them a mild squeeze. "I can't believe you went to the trouble."

The sound of your whisper makes Dazai grin, puffing out his chest in pride. "Of course! I'd do anything for my love," he says, voice leaning more on the side of egotistical than genuine, a light joke hoping to make you laugh. Like always, he succeeds.

The kiss you press to his cheek makes his smile turn more sincere, a hand moving to flatten the frilly pink fabric around his waist. "Guess you read my apron."

You look down, noticing the tacky KISS THE CHEF embroidered onto the front. A playful scoff passes your lips, rolling your eyes while trying to bite back a smile. "You're annoying. How long have you had this?"

"Umm~," he hums for a moment. "7 hours? And I thought you said I was obnoxious." A high pitched ding! sounds from the kitchen, Dazai quickly rushing back and leaving you alone. You gaze back at the dinner table he set up, smiling excitedly at the thought of him putting all this together just for you.

Spending time with Dazai always lifts a weight off of your shoulders, laughing at his dumb jokes and complaining about your day - it’s a wonderful feeling the both of you lacked prior. Him from his upbringing in the mafia, following in Mori’s footsteps and cursed to take his position, and you - not allowed to rely on anyone except yourself from the moment you could walk. Both you and Dazai were accustomed to loneliness and isolation, knowing the only people you could trust were yourselves.

Coming together after forced alienation all your life made you bit hesitant to depend on him, especially at first. Asking for attention and affection is much scarier than just wanting it. However, Dazai had seemed to warm up to the idea relatively quickly, as though he already knew you could be trusted and had already been used to your presence.

It was a bit jarring, knowing the scary mafia boss was so enamored with you he'd practically jump onto you if you got too close. All things considered, he should've been as cautious as you were, but Dazai so easily slid into his role as your partner. Sometimes you feel bad knowing that you haven't been as forthcoming as he has.

"Stay with me tonight."

The sudden turn in conversation makes you freeze, hand pausing with your glass of wine lingering just in front of your lips. Conversation had been flowing easily just moments prior — chatting about each other's day and various similar small talk, before turning to the dinner at hand. You'd thanked Dazai for the meal before asking him why he decided to do this for you so randomly. Instead of answering, he'd simply replied with the above: stay with me tonight.

"Stay here? Overnight? It's a bit last minute..."

Dazai smiles as you set your wine glass down, staring at him as though expecting an elaboration. Which, of course, he's willing to supply. "And tomorrow night, if you'd like. The one after and every night after that."

Is he asking me to move in? you think, breath hitching. It's all so sudden; you'd never even discussed this possibility with him. Sure, you've spent a night or two over here and there - but very sporadically. It wasn't something often and definitely not frequent enough to lead into moving in so soon.

"Stop overthinking," he cuts into your thoughts. "Take what I'm saying at face value." Gently, Dazai's hand reaches out to grab yours, arm resting on the table as his thumb traces your knuckles. "Stay with me tonight. And we can reassess tomorrow."

Of course he knows how to calm you down, causing you to breathe as you focus on his thumb's ministrations on your hand. Well, it would be nice, knowing the options are to stay with your loving boyfriend or go home to your neglectful family. They wouldn't even notice you're gone, much less care where you ended up, but...

"I have pajamas and clothes for you to use, spare toothbrush and the like." Dazai had answered your question before you even asked, something that always made you smile. No one had ever taken the time to know you, much less well enough to read your mind like that. "If they're not to your liking, I'll have a subordinate get you something else."

You shake your head, wanting nothing more than to spend a night away from your home once again. Or away from your house, rather - since Dazai has quickly proven himself to be your home. "I bet they're perfect. And if not, I— " you hesitate, not wanting to impose. The last thing you wanted was to be—

"You aren't a burden. If not, we can just get something else," Dazai cuts off your train of thought. "I want to, okay? I want to take care of you. I want you to know what it's like to be looked after and taken care of."

"I was going to say if not, maybe I can move some of my clothes here... for the times I stay over." Anxiously, you pick up your fork to poke and prod at your meal, the lovely dinner Dazai had crafted just for you consisting of only your favorite foods.

Dazai nods quickly, eyes glimmering at the idea. He knows this is your metaphorical olive branch, letting him know that you're working up to one day moving in with him. All he wants and all he's ever wanted for as long as he's known you, spanning across multiple lives, is to keep you safe and happy.

The topic changes as dinner continues, and before you know it you're donned in the most expensive pajamas curled up against Dazai fast asleep. Watching you snore beside him, all he can think about is making sure you're surrounded solely by people who cherish you.

[wisteria-cherry]

Hey sweetheart

I’m not sure if you take requests for barty crouch jr but if yes could i please, please request dating headcanons with him? He’s such a cute dork and so very underrated. Thanks

Luv your blog <3

i do now💪💪

one of the best things about barty is that he’s smart

you get philosophical conversations where you get to talk about your opinions on important matters in life; discussing the deeper aspects of your relationship. it really does make the two of you feel closer.

also free tutoring

the other side of that though is barty is smart with really no effort, so he has no problem getting off track on study dates because he doesn’t really need to study

he’ll info dump probably

you ask a simple question and if you let him he will go on a tangent

please let him play with your hair it’s his favorite

✨healthy manipulation✨

it sounds worse than it is but he’s all for positive reinforcement. you forgot to eat? no kisses until you eat something❌

he liked you for a long time before asking you out— although he makes himself out to be the time to sleep around, he’s really the type to be in it for the long run

definitely softer behind closed doors, particularly because he feels he has a reputation to maintain with his friends

this isn’t to say he neglects you when he’s with the because he’s all for the princess treatment

it’s ✨dignified✨ and ✨gentlemanly✨

will tie your shoes and adjust your uniform tie with a light scolding

treats you like a trophy partner, but doesn’t expect you to act like one

actually loves it when he sees you get along with his friends

and he loves showing you off

barty prefers casual pet names. he’ll be shuffling through some papers and be like “babe, have you seen—?” or making a potion that requires his full attention and go “love, grab me those herbs, would you— yes, those right there— thank you.”

loves touching you

he is the kind of guy that, when moving you to get through or get to something he needs, will press his hand on the small of your back and gently nudge you

[mauselet]

The Influencer - And All Is Not Fine

This story is for @ask-the-rag-dolly's blog, specifically The Influencer AU. Honestly, loving the blog so much. Huge thanks to Mod Bee for creating it and if you haven't already, go check out her blog.

Big thanks to WanderingDragon and Foolscap Hamato for helping with the fic.

Yes, the story is named after Entropy by Awkward Marina lyrics. Also, the anon/s that speak in orange and red, you got a reference in there cause it felt fitting.

Well, I really hope you enjoy this story!

Story includes: Ragatha X Pomni (but can be taken as platonically), angst, hurt/comfort

TW body horror, possessive behavior, possession, anxiety/panic attack, haphephobia/fear of being touched, questioning sanity, self-neglect

It's been a few weeks since Pomni found out that there were currently hundreds of voices inside Ragatha's head. Wow, and after all this time it didn't sound any less insane. From what Pomni understood, those voices were a virus that had infected the circus and latched onto Ragatha. They couldn't tell Caine about this because he'd likely kill them and Ragatha refused that. For some reason, she wanted to protect them which seemed even crazier than the whole situation. Some of them were friendly, sure, but others…

They attacked Jax, causing him to glitch out. They taunted Ragatha by plaguing her mind with the worst cases imaginable or calling her names or taking her too literally. They spawned that stupid paper shredder!

Oh, how Pomni hated that thing! The next time she sees one, she’ll personally smash it into pieces.

In short, the voices–all of them–stressed Ragatha out. And who could blame her? Sometimes even your own voice in your head can drive you mad. Pomni was actually impressed that the doll hadn’t reached her breaking point yet with these “anons”, as they called themselves, constantly following her.

Of course, it wasn’t all that bad. Sure, they led to Ragatha temporarily losing her arm, but it was also thanks to them that she worked up the courage to speak to Pomni again. The thought of that always brought a smile to the jester’s face.

She was glad she could talk to her. Not only because Ragatha was nice and overall pleasant to be around, but it was also good for the ragdoll; especially now that she avoided the other circus performers to prevent another Jax fiasco or a possible infection.

The redhead’s absence was noticed by the others and to Pomni’s surprise, they were concerned about her. When Pomni first arrived, she was too busy spiraling down her anxiety to see it, but these trapped souls were friends. They cared about one another, even if it’d be in their own strange ways. So Pomni decided to reassure them all with daily reports on how Ragatha was doing.

And that was usually the extent of her interactions with them. Until Caine’s adventures forced her to stick around the whole day. Sometimes she was able to avoid them, however, there were times when she just couldn’t no matter how hard she tried. Unfortunately for her, adventures like these stacked over the course of the last few days, making it basically impossible for Pomni to check on Ragatha.

By the third or fourth day, Pomni was getting anxious. Throughout the adventure, her fingers were constantly convulsing while stuck in an unnatural position, her eyes turned into scribbles and her thoughts were as far away from the game as possible.

Ragatha must’ve been lonely. It’s been days since she’s interacted with anyone. Well…since she’s interacted with someone who meant no harm to her. Hopefully, she was alright…

Pomni suddenly jerked and snapped out of her thoughts as a gloved hand waved in front of her eyes. Her head shot up and she saw Kinger, Zooble and Gangle who announced to her that they found a way to replace her in today’s adventure and that she could go see Ragatha. If she had to be honest, she didn’t even know what the adventure was, but if she really wasn’t needed there…

She gave the three of them a quick smile and dashed to Ragatha’s room as fast as her short legs could carry her. As soon as she arrived and caught her breath, she rang the bell, waiting and…

Waiting.

Pomni felt a pit in her stomach. No, no, no. She shook her head. Everything’s fine, it’s just taking a bit. She rang again.

“R-Ragatha? It’s me, Pomni. A-are you in there?”

But she was still left waiting.

“Ragatha!” she raised her voice, yet still no response.

Oh God, three days… Three whole days with nothing but those voices. That must’ve been a nightmare for the doll and Pomni left her dealing with that alone. She left her again…

“I’m coming in!” she announced and reached for the doorknob. Her body froze as she held it, overwhelmed by worried thoughts, but also by a sense of déjà vu. She chuckled darkly at the memory of desperately wanting to know what was behind a door she shouldn’t go through and then opened.

A wave of relief washed over Pomni as she wasn’t instantly met with a glitching blob with a thousand glowing eyeballs. She walked in and closed the door behind her.

She looked around the room and her heart skipped a beat. Ragatha was there, sitting on her bed, sewing what appeared to be a suit. She was so focused on her work; maybe that's why she didn't register the bell. Pomni can't actually remember if she'd ever seen her this focused, but she looked surprisingly calm and, the jester had to admit, quite pretty. 

“Um…Ragatha?” the short woman started, walking over, “I'm sorry for barging in, I was just worried when you didn't answer.” But the ragdoll didn't respond; it was as if she didn’t even notice that Pomni was in the room talking to her.

Was she ignoring her? Was she mad? Did she…hate her? All of those thoughts sounded really ridiculous considering that this was Ragatha we were talking about. She doesn’t even allow herself to hate Jax, someone who’s caused more than enough harm to her, so there is no way she’d ever hate Pomni. Right…? Yet all those thoughts, as unrealistic as they might’ve seemed, felt like real possibilities to Pomni.

Somehow despite Jax putting her worst fear in her room, voices constantly screaming at her and hurting her and Caine forcing her into some of the most dangerous scenarios, not being there for her seemed like the biggest crime of them all.

Well, there was only one way to fix it.

“I’m so sorry I took so long,” Pomni let out, her steps slowing down, “I tried to check on you, but Caine’s adventures-”

“Oh, it’s alright, dear,” hearing that gentle voice, Pomni stopped. It was nice hearing her again, but something felt off. Sure, Ragatha occasionally used pet names like hun or sweetheart or even dear–oh geez, Pomni felt her cheeks heating up just thinking about it—that wasn’t the issue. She sounded more nonchalant than reassuring.

That didn’t matter right now. She wasn’t mad and that brought a smile to Pomni’s face. However, that didn’t last long as the doll finally raised her head.

Pomni’s face turned paler than usual if it was even possible, the pinwheel eyes shrunk, making them nearly invisible and her smile vanished as if it was never there.

Oh %$!#... Oh %$!#! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO! This wasn’t… This couldn’t have been real!

She wasn’t just staring at a black void with two colorful eyes where Ragatha’s button was supposed to be. She wasn’t just witnessing her friend slowly abstracting in front of her! She wasn’t… She wasn’t…

This wasn’t real!

It… It was just one of the digital hallucinations that Caine mentioned. Yeah! That’s it! That’s…That’s what it…was…

But those eyes, that void, they were still there, no matter how much Pomni convinced herself about the opposite.

Caine. She had to go get Caine! As Ragatha said once, maybe there was still time to fix this.

“Stay here!” Pomni blurted out, “I’ll be right back!” She quickly turned around and ran to the door. She’s going to come back this time. This time she won’t let Ragatha suffer.

She reached for the doorknob, but before she could grab it, arms wrapped around her and she was pulled back. One of the arms held her abdomen while the other was around her neck, not too tight yet still uncomfortable.

Feeling the fabric arms against her skin made her dizzy and itchy. She could sense every single pixel touching her, causing goosebumps to spread over her body.

“Where are you going, dear~?” she heard a whisper in her ear. It was Ragatha’s gentle, calming voice- No. It sounded different and…wrong. The voice was demanding and rough.

Pomni’s breath hitched. Was really something wrong with Ragatha? Or was her mind just messing with her? Well, the physical contact didn’t exactly help her think clearly as her body was plagued with this disgusting sensation.

“Don’t leave me~” For whatever reason, those words made the black-haired woman sick.

The doll’s embrace tightened. The touch of the fabric felt so venomous and paralyzing. It felt sickening. It felt wrong.

The jester wanted to escape that trap. She needed to escape it, yet no matter how much the voice in her head screamed at her body to move, it wouldn’t budge an inch. She was frozen in such a predicament with nothing but her racing heart, uneven breath, and voice stuck in her throat.

She attempted to take a deep breath, only to leave herself coughing.

“Are you alright, dear?” That voice again. It made shivers run down Pomni’s spine.

She sucked in another breath and let out a very weak and broken “Ragatha”. She repeated this a few times until she made a sensible sentence: “Ragatha… Please, let go…”

“Let go?” the doll wondered innocently, “why would I do that?”

“Please…” the jester mouthed.

“It’s not like I want to hurt you.” The grip tightened even more. “I would never hurt you. I would never-” The taller woman went silent. She felt the pale jester in her arms trembling and her heart dropped.

“Pomni…” Ragatha let out softly and her embrace loosened, “y-you’re shaking…” Rather than talking to Pomni, however, she seemed to have told it to herself. Reminding it to herself as if just physically feeling it wasn't enough to make it sink in. 

Even some of the voices were yelling at her to let go while the others objected. Was it the good or bad ones? What even made them good or bad? Were there even any bad voices? Were there even any good voices?

The voices that objected weren’t yelling, but whispering yet they were somehow much louder than the yells.

“Don’t listen to them–” “You can’t let go–” “You can–!” “She’ll find Caine and tell him about us–” “She wouldn’t–” “It’s too great of a risk–!” “If Caine finds out about us, we’ll be–” “What would happen to Rags–?”

“Ragatha, don’t you care about us? Don’t you care about what happens to you?!”

She flinched, instinctively tensing her hold on Pomni. In no way did she help the situation, with the jester’s body convulsing out of control.

“What is it, dolly? Are we too much for you to handle? Are we too loud? Can you even tell the difference between us and your own thoughts? Is there even a difference at this point?”

Oh God, her knees felt weak, her head was spinning, and tears filled her eye. She felt like she was about to collapse at any moment, but there was something forcing her to stand. Something kept her body like this against her will despite her exhaustion.

“Oh, dollface, do you feel the abstraction crawling under your skin? Or well, fabric? Did we do it? Did we f̴i̷n̴a̵l̸l̴y̸ ̶b̷r̸e̶a̵k̷ ̶y̷o̴u̵?̸”

All the voices then started shouting over one another again. Ragatha couldn’t even make out what they were saying as it all blended into an incoherent mess. With so much noise in her head, she wanted to join them. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs; let out all her frustration not just with the voices, but with her whole body. It would be a beautiful relief, but even that was a luxury. Her body wouldn’t let her. They wouldn’t let her.

She’d swear that in the middle of all the noise she heard things that made her want to throw up. She hoped that it was just her imagination and her brain tried to give those noises some meaning, however… That would mean it was her own thoughts and that creeped her out even more. Strangely, some of those words weren’t anything bad, they were just…words. Yet they all sounded so disgusting. So wrong. Every last one of them.

Every last one…

Every last–

“Please…” One voice silenced all of them despite how weak and broken it was. No… No, it was loud and clear. It was…real.

It hit her like a truck. Everything that just happened in the span of a few minutes. How Pomni walked into the room, apologizing. How terrified the jester was when she saw her. How she stopped her when she tried to leave. How she was holding her this whole time despite the pain she was clearly causing Pomni.

Ragatha jumped back, letting go of the jester, allowing her to collapse to her knees. The small woman was sitting there, swinging back and forth, hyperventilating. She reached her hands to her arms as if to brace herself, but she didn’t touch. Instead, she grabbed her hat and pulled, her eyes shut. The bells one would associate with joy and fun now sounded distorted to both of the performers. The bells were… unnerving.

“Oh my gosh…” Ragatha let out as it all sank in. She covered her mouth and a tear ran down her face as she stared down at the black-haired woman. Her heart was breaking at the sight. “Oh my gosh…”

She did this… No, no, no. The voices did. Right…? She…She wasn’t in control, was she?

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, although, she wasn’t sure if Pomni could even hear her, “I-I lost control of them.” She cried more. “I messed up. Ragatha, you idiot… You %$!# idiot! You scared her. You hurt her! Why would I…? I would never-”

She felt tears rolling down her right cheek too, but that wasn’t possible. She wiped the tears with her hand and when she looked at it, her fingertips were covered by dark liquid.

Her heart stopped, realizing what that was. The dark void was leaking. The voices were right…

The bells on Pomni’s head rang again, causing Ragatha to snap out of those thoughts. There was something more important she had to do than pity herself. Her emotions could wait. Her abstraction could wait! She didn’t matter right now. She didn’t matter at all! Pomni did.

Despite her own breakdown, she rushed over to the jester, kneeling in front of her. She was in tears, barely thinking straight, potentially on the verge of abstracting, but Pomni mattered more.

Ragatha reached her hand towards the pale woman but flinched when she realized it wasn’t the brightest idea considering what caused this in the first place. She instead laid her hands on her own knees so Pomni could see them.

“Hey, Pomni?” she spoke up, her voice trembling. That sure was reassuring…

C’mon, Ragatha! Get a hold of yourself! Pomni needs you! Don’t freak her out.

She took a deep breath and ran her hand through her yarn, brushing it over her right eye to hide it. She curled her hands into fists and calmed her breath before speaking.

“Pomni, hun?” She was doing her best to keep her voice stable this time. “Look at me, please. Hun, look at me.” Pomni cringed, her body still going back and forth. “It’s okay, it’s just me. The real me, I promise,” Ragatha continued, “I just need you to look at me.” The big eyes slowly opened, showing scribbles, and looked up. “That’s it.” Ragatha smiled at her brightly. “Good job, sweetheart. Good job.”

The smaller woman was still trembling, still pulling at her hat, still swinging back and forth, still not controlling her breath. 

“Alright, dear-”

Pomni flinched at that, tears streaming down her face as she looked away. 

“O-okay! Okay,” Ragatha said in an unintentional panic. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out. I won't call you that again, I promise. I promise. You’re safe now.”

Still in tears, the jester stopped pulling at her hat, yet the bells kept ringing. Each sob was accompanied by a happy metallic chime as her body jerked. Ragatha had to admit that it made her wails quite adorable and each little jingle seemingly made a voice in her head disappear each time. But she wished more than anything that they'd stop.

“Pomni?” Ragatha knew she had to keep trying. “Hey, Pompom, hun… Can you look at me again?”

The smaller woman didn't seem to listen. She then choked on her sobs as they didn't mix well with her rapid breathing. Seeing this, some of the voices panicked, but Ragatha had to stay calm. She instinctively lifted her hand from her knee, however, thankfully stopped herself from touching Pomni. 

“Please?” the ragdoll’s soothing voice asked and Pomni couldn't deny it. The black-haired woman turned to her, scribbles in her bloodshot eyes. 

“Good job.” A smile of relief and reassurance formed on Ragatha's face. “Now, honey, you're having another episode, but that's okay. It's okay, I'll help you through it. I’m not going anywhere. We'll get through it  together, okay?”

Pomni nodded slowly, choking on her sobs again. 

“I need you to breathe with me,” Ragatha told her, “four seconds in, hold and six out. Four, hold, six.” She waited for Pomni to nod again before she took a deep breath that the jester immediately followed, yet struggling. They held their breath, but sniffles broke them. Then they exhaled together. 

“Now, let's try again.”

And as Ragatha said, they did. Breathing was much easier for Pomni this time around. 

“You're doing great,” the redhead praised her, “are you able to go on your own?” She watched as Pomni nodded and took another deep breath with her eyes shut. “Good, keep going. You’re safe, hun. Focus on me, okay?”

When Pomni opened her eyes again, they were back to their pinwheel look. Ragatha also noticed that she stopped shaking and the swinging slowed down. Her smile widened in relief.

She kept talking to Pomni while the jester calmed her breath. They were like this for a few more minutes until…

“R-Ragatha…?” Pomni finally spoke up and the ragdoll gasped quietly.

“Welcome back, sweetheart,” Ragatha greeted her, “you feeling any better?”

“A little…” Pomni’s voice was still pretty weak, but she had much more to say. She held her hands together, rubbing her thumb with the other. “But I should be the one asking you.”

“What are you talking about?” Ragatha shook her head. “I just helped you through a panic attack-”

“And I’m forever grateful for that,” the jester blurted out, “but, Ragatha… You’re on the verge of abstracting!” They both flinched at the yell and Ragatha covered the black void on her face despite being hidden behind the hair. “And it’s all because of me.” Pomni shifted her eyes away. “Because I left you when you needed me. Again!”

“Pomni, you can’t blame yourself for that. It wasn’t your fault.”

“‘Can’t blame yourself?’ You’re the one to talk,” the pale woman scuffed. She then took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“No, you have all the right to call me out.”

“Did it happen because of… them?” Pomni glanced at the taller woman, her eyes narrowing at the last word.

“I think so,” Ragatha replied and noticed Pomni inhaling to speak, but she quickly interrupted her, “that’s why you can’t tell Caine.”

“But, Rag-”

“You promised.”

“And you said you wanted this to stop,” Pomni reminded her, raising her voice, “I understand you don’t want them to die, but think about what they’re doing to you. Stress? Mental breakdowns? Abstraction?!” The doll lowered her head in shame. “Rags, you’re suffering and I can’t bear to watch. You care about the people around you and I appreciate that, but for once in this digital life think about yourself first.”

“No need to worry, darling,” Ragatha said calmly, looking up with a bright smile as if the topic was just a casual small talk, “the anons are actually what keeps me from abstracting, otherwise I’d be in the cellar by now.” Pomni cringed at every word due to how cheerfully the doll said them. “We’re also really, really sorry for touching you. We were so afraid of you telling Caine that we had to stop you somehow. Sorry we hurt you.”

Pomni was just staring at her, an unsure expression painted on her face. This all felt wrong and Ragatha’s next words didn’t ease that feeling.

“I’m fine, really. I’m sure that I can join in on the adventures again soon.”

No, that wasn’t right. She just said she’s afraid of Caine finding out, why does she suddenly want to take part in his adventures? And that wasn’t the only thing off.

“What happened to staying in your room to prevent infecting people with the virus?” Pomni wondered, “don’t get me wrong, the others would be happy to see you and they’re definitely worried about you. Heck, Zooble, Gangle and Kinger helped me get out of an adventure to check up on you; it’s just…”

“You’ve been spending so much time with me and you’re not influenced,” Ragatha pointed out.

Well, Pomni couldn’t argue with that. There were still many other issues with this seemingly spontaneous idea, but the more she thought about them the less sense her reasoning as to why they were even issues made. It was as if her mind was getting blurrier the more she tried to use her brain. She must’ve been tired from her previous meltdown.

“I guess you have a point.” She let out a sigh and smiled at the woman softly, but then… Did Ragatha have that wide grin on her face before? That didn’t matter right now; she needed some rest.

“Look, I know I haven’t been here in a while, but I should really go into my room and take a nap,” she explained.

“Oh, no worries, d̶e̶a̸r̴,” Ragatha replied, “have a nice sleep.”

“I’ll try. Thanks.” Pomni stood up and headed to the door. She grabbed the doorknob and turned back. “And I mean it, try thinking about yourself. It isn’t hard to care about you; me and at least three other people can agree on that.” Her smile widened as she opened the door. “And Ragatha? …I… Thank you for helping me through the attack, I really appreciate it. You’re a great friend.”

She then closed the door and stayed in the room. 

She originally planned on finding Caine the moment she was outside. She was well aware that Ragatha didn't want that, however, Pomni was willing to do anything to help her stop hurting. She didn't care if Ragatha hated her for it–she was sure she would–she just wanted her friend to be safe.

But as much as she wanted that, she couldn't bring her body to go through with it. It was as if it didn't obey her. 

“Don't leave me,” she remembered the doll's words. No, it wasn't a memory; it felt like someone just whispered in her ear. 

That's crazy. It was just her imagination. Nothing else. 

“Pomni, please. Don't leave,” Ragatha's voice begged her. It sounded so real. But there was no way Ragatha's whispers could reach her, right?

The more she thought about it, the more her mind was filled with white noise, static. And the longer that went on, the more that noise made sense to her as if it spoke to her. 

“I'm scared,” one noise was much louder. Ragatha's voice.

Pomni's not leaving her again.

She let go of the doorknob and turned around to see the ragdoll still sitting on her knees, showing Pomni her back. 

“Actually, can I stay here?” the jester asked, “I don't want you to be alone and…I'd also feel more comfortable with some company.”

“Why of course,” the doll replied, the huge grin remaining on her face. She got up and headed over to her bed. Reaching into her hair, she pulled out her bow and used it to tie her hair up in a ponytail.

“You can take a nap in my bed,” she said. 

“Oh.” Pomni blushed a little, not only at the offer but also due to the redhead’s sudden hairdo change. Whatever it was, it had some strong influence on Pomni. "Thanks."

Once at her bed, Ragatha picked up the suit she was working on when Pomni first walked in. It was nearly done. It truly was clothing worthy of someone as powerful as her; someone with influence stronger than the ringmaster himself.

[snaxle]

you didn't even say it back. kys, i mean. i sent you such a thoughtful letter and all you do is malign me as a fanfic writer, who, even worse, can't even finish her wips. horrible. it wasn't a terrible guess given the demographics of your blog (or so i would conjecture based on halfhearted extrapolation based on crumbs of information absorbed counter to my will through social osmosis here) and the fandom inclinations of tumblrinas at large, though this is a cross i do not personally bear.

the charge levied against me by one commenter, namely that "[you] live rent free in [my] head" is false. a sizable proportion of your followers/mutuals/orbiters presumably are constituted of writers who don't finish their works (many such cases) as well the readers who are subjected to those half finished fictions and therefore cannot concieve of someone who looked at a couple posts, wrinkled their nose in distaste, and cranked out a "drabble" or whatever, closed the tab, and went about their day is out of the realm of imagination of the archetypal tumblrite, weighed down by a dozen half actualised ideas, splotchy faced and writhing around and waving their teensy fat fingered hands, shrieking and grabbing out to be given care and attention and to be nurtured so that they may mature into a finished work.

you may ask me what i am doing here if when i showcase such scorn for the character of the average tumblr user and the answer simply is 1) i don't care i just sound like this as a fixed state of being & 2) im like jane goodall if she was kind of a dick to the chimpanzees sometimes and if she was kind of stupid and insane and wrote screeds to one piece fans online.

becoming a one piece fan is an outstanding suicide prevention measure because it's just one final thing on the list to do forever. so im not really anticipating for any harm to personally visit you, nor do i have any personal stake in your demise or success but instead want for the environment of the internet to be slowly poisoned; first in small, enclosed environments like lonesome, neglected, and dying fish in places as toxic as a never cleaned fishbowl and then maybe, in some rosy dreams of mine, the sea dries up entirely and every whale is beached and terrifying krakens of the sea are brought to light crying and gasping and drying out in the sun and lethal pathogens unleashed when the artic permafrost melts and then evaporates and the sun beats down on all the sea creatures of the world, and bakes them, and the hole where the mariana trench once was reeks of rot for years on end. i wish people could be awful to each other, so so so badly. and you're a perfectly serviceable target, but so am i. i hate you, won't you hate me? why can't all the sisters and the brothers of the earth unlink arms in conjoint discord? if only.

and yet you don't see this vision at all, or don't value it. all this is heaped on you but you toss it aside without regard for the feelings and yearnings of the only anon you've ever received of substance. i wrap my undersized cold black ink secreting heart in some papers for you, crumble it into a ball and hand it to you, and you tag it as suicide bait without even doing suicide baiting of your own. tell me youve had an anon that has devoted 20 minutes to writing you before. repulsive. if it be your will for this to make it to publishing i would like to let the reader know that i would not recommend visiting to future hate anons.

[personalpagan]

The Jotnär and Liminal Space:

Here is more UPG:

I could get into the historical accuracy of 'Utgarðr,' but to save time: there are people that ascribe to it, and people that don't. I am somewhere in the middle, as I usually take a firm stance on "we will never really know what the ancients believed.'' Essentially, I take all mythology with a grain of salt, use the big picture/metaphor to gain an understanding of the God(s) in question, and move along. However, I did want to delve deeper into the Utgarðr concept. Particularly after the rise of Liminal Space-core. Tiktok and Tumblr have seemed to latch onto the idea of Liminal space, or the Back Rooms, and unsurprisingly, that's made me think of the Jotnär.

The whole premise of Liminal Space is an unoccupied area that, for some reason, seems somewhat familiar but wholly unsettling. Some people even get a sense of nostalgia from certain images. The area doesn't have anything outright scary about it, but instinctually, you know something is wrong with it. There is an intrinsic gut feeling, a knowing that something bad could happen, and that people don't belong in this area. Liminal Space is essentially one big "DO NOT ENTER" sign. But humans possess morbid fascination, so we poke and prode at the feeling of fear, anxiety, and instinct.

Similarly, the Utgarðr has the same sign hanging on its metaphorical door. We know from a conglomeration of myths that the Jotnär occupy harsh lands—snow-capped mountains, the deep sea, the open air, even the space between Realms. This land is inhospitable to us, to even the Gods. It is primordial land that holds something in it that we, as a species, cannot understand. Something that the All-Father sought after ruthlessly in hopes of evading Ragnarök.

I suppose my interest/theory is that Jotnär are Liminal Space. At least, their home is—not neglecting that some Jotnär are, in fact, places. It's been my experience that the Jotnär exude this bizarre sort of feeling. When praying, meditating, and dreaming of them, they often come off as almost...uncomfortable. It's the uncanny, jarring feeling. And I think this genuinly makes sense when comparing to the literature. They are the primordial clan, and so, it would make sense that they occupy The Strange.

The Strange is what I am going to refer to this place/feeling as on this blog, for future reference. Just because I think that encapsulates this experience well; pure, intangible strangeness.

I suppose this could sometimes be applied to the Aesir and Vanir, but I hesitate on that for other literary and historical reasons. The Aesir in particular are Gods of society, in myth they represent human connection, human experiences, etc. Vanir could be considered agricultural Gods, but that is also a human invention, so they too represent key aspects of humanity. So, there is an aspect of familiarity there, which cuts through the uncanny, and destroys the key part in Liminal Space.

To circle back to the original point: Utgarðr is the intangible, the outside. A feeling that our ancestors felt, and so their myths reflected as much. Those myths, put to paper by Christian monks, might not be perfect in terms of accuracy and biased influence, but it gives us a solid idea, a sizable clue. I think it's neat that our ancestors felt that same strangeness.

[rabbitenn]

Love your blog! I've always been a Re:Vale fan (and still am) and didn't have eyes or ears for the other groups…but your characterizations have made me start liking Trigger too. This may be a bit of a controversial request so I won't feel bad if you pass on it. Could I have the Trigger boys reacting to their s/o's tummy growling in front of them? This is not coming from an ED mindset--I've been extremely busy/stressed (working 6+ day weeks, juggling 3 part-time jobs, and having random SNAFU stuff come up with family that results in more responsibilities/duties etc.) and so meals/eating has kind of fallen by the wayside for me. Still eat…but maybe only managing to eat breakfast in a single day or something. Made me crave being taken care of/fussed over by the Trigger boys. Thank you!

SLOW DOWN.

Your schedule is packed and you’ve been neglecting your own health. However, your boyfriend is not having it.

ft. Yaotome Gaku, Kujo Tenn, Tsunashi Ryunosuke x gn! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, comfort, soft caring boyfriends.

hello, lovely ! thank you so much for requesting. Your words honor me, really ! I’m very happy my fics could make you love TRIGGER, that’s really one of the highest compliments I could ever get, so thank you, truly <3 My apologies that I’m quite late in posting this, I hope it’s still to your liking. Also, I hope you can find a moment to take a break too, take care, please !

♡ YAOTOME GAKU

— Gaku misses you.

— The moments you two spend alone together are becoming more and more scarce.

— And it’s not due to any fallouts or misunderstandings, no, far from it, actually.

— You miss him too.

— Because for the last few weeks, all you’ve been doing is work. Commuting from one workplace to another, providing for your family, with barely any days off.

— Which resulted in your time with your boyfriend being affected; fleeting kisses and ‘see you tonight’s are the longest conversations you’ve been sharing lately, your nights cuddled by each other’s side watching movies being cut short when you helplessly fell asleep on Gaku’s shoulder.

— He sighs, a little saddened. It’s unfair you are exerting yourself like this… Without barely a moment to breathe… He hopes you’re only taking on so much work for a short while.

— Laying you down on his bed and pulling the covers snuggly around you, Gaku decides to reserve some time from his own schedule to come see you at work the next day.

♡

Carrying another flowerpot, you heave a sigh the moment you place it on the shelf.

With the back of your hand, you wipe the sweat from your brow. Your arms are slightly shaking, having spent a good part of the morning moving boxes and arranging the shelves of the flower shop you work at part time.

With a sideways glance at the ticking clock, you realize it’s almost lunchtime.

Though it was never really lunchtime for you, as you usually spent the hour you had going over several papers that needed to be sorted for your office job.

Switching the door’s sign to ‘closed’, you pull a chair next to the counter, as a flurry of documents begins to cover the entirety of the wooden surface.

Then, a chiming sound makes you momentarily lose your focus.

“Sorry, we’re closed.” You announce, not even bothering to raise your gaze from the work at hand.

You hear the door closing with a dull ‘thud’, footsteps approaching.

“I said,” You brace your hands on the table, standing up from your seat. “That we are clo-“

Steel hued eyes meet yours in the middle of your sentence.

“Gaku!” You smile up at him. He doesn’t miss the dark circles under your eyes. “What are you doing here?”

One of his hands cups your cheek, the pads of his fingers smoothing over the tiredness of your skin, as if just like that, he could erase the clouds of sleepless nights from your stare.

“Inviting you to have lunch with me, of course.” He utters, in the blossom scented space that separates you.

You lower your head, hair falling in front of your eyes.

“Dear… I would love that but… I don’t have the time. I’m sorry…” You trail off, thinking of the meager energy drink you’ve had time to buy on your way here this morning.

As if to announce that it is time already for you to have a proper meal, your stomach growls.

Heat rises to your cheeks. This is so embarrassing! For your gut to make that kind of noise in front of your hot boyfriend.

“You didn’t hear that…” You mumble, looking everywhere except at him.

A chuckle causes you to look at him wide eyed.

“Gaku, please, don’t make fun of me…” You whine, holding onto his arm.

Those crystalline eyes of his soften, his hand finding yours.

“I’m not making fun of you, but you need to eat. So I’m taking you to the soba shop, yeah? I’ll drive you back to your other job afterwards.”

“But I… You have work too… I just can’t waste your time like this… driving me afterwards…”

“[Y/n], look at me.” Your boyfriend’s tone is serious, yet still warm.

When your gaze meets his, his expression is solemn.

“You never waste my time. Never.”

You sigh, a tired smile making it to your lips. It warms your heart, really that your partner is so sweet.

“Alright.” You utter, gathering your stuff. “And Gaku?”

“Yes, love?”

“Thank you.” You tell him, as you nuzzle against his side.

“Nothing to thank me for.” He whispers, with a kiss to the crown of your head.

The midday sun outlines your intertwined hands against the concrete as you make your way to his car.

You promise to make time for him soon.

♡ KUJO TENN

— Tenn is very perceptive, so, honestly, it will be hard for you to neglect yourself before he notices and “forces” you to take care.

— He sees how you barely have any energy left whenever you two happen to have the same day off.

— How you’re so flooded with projects for work you barely tell him about your day anymore, dismissing the topic with a ‘busy, as usual.’

— And well, he knows what you’re doing. How, in order to provide for others, to make enough money and keep your superiors at work pleased, you’re running yourself ragged.

— How does he know? Well, because he pretty much does the exact same thing; just giving, to his fans, to his family, to everyone, even at the cost of his own happiness or health.

— But with you, he wants you to put yourself first. You’re so dear to him, Tenn can’t bear the thought of seeing your light dim like this.

— And he will not hesitate to confront you about it.

♡

The shuffling of steps causes for Tenn to look up from his book.

Usually, his face lit up whenever he saw you, but today, the image of you breaks his heart a little.

You look sickly. Your hair is a mess, your clothes are all rumpled, and nasty looking shadows seem to have been permanently etched under the bright eyes he loves to look into.

Tenn swallows; he has to do something about it, your condition is just going to worsen if you keep this up.

“[Y/n]…” Your boyfriend calls you as you rummage through the kitchen cupboards.

“Tenn, do we have any energy bars left?” You ask, still searching.

He sighs. It’s your day off today. And you’re not even going to have a proper meal?

“[Y/n].” He repeats, his tone a tad colder.

“Where did I put them…” You muse to yourself.

Well, you’re bent on not paying attention to him, so he’ll have to snap you out of this vicious cycle.

Your lover’s hand wraps around your wrist, firm but gentle. He spins you around, making you face him.

You let out a gasp, taken aback by his bold action right now.

“[Y/n], listen to me.” Tenn commands, still not letting go of you.

“Tenn, I’m sorry, but I don’t have time now-“

He pulls you closer to him.

“You will listen.”

He can feel your shallow breathing now, his silken strands of starlight on snow brushing the side of your cheek, his comforting and sweet scent surrounding you.

Oh, how you wish you could just bask in his warmth, curled up with a mug of hot chocolate and a plate of the donuts he so adores as you two read on the couch.

But sadly, your situation doesn’t exactly leave you the time for such hedonistic actions.

“Tenn…” You breathe, wide eyed.

“Why do you keep doing this to yourself?” He lets out, voice breaking a little, barely above a whisper.

“Doing what?”

“You’re not hydrating properly, your lips are all chapped; you’re not sleeping enough, and when was the last time you had a real meal?” Your boyfriend questions, his thumb running soothing patterns over your wrist.

As if in response, your tummy decides to rumble right then and there.

You slump your shoulders, burying your face in his chest. The softness of his sweater is welcoming, akin to a comfort blanket that’s been with you since childhood.

“Nothing gets past you, does it?” You laugh, humorlessly, closing your eyes to all the burdens you’ve been shouldering alone.

Your shoulders start to shake. Tenn’s arms wrap around your form, so frail now, as if a simple gust of wind could shatter what remains of your sanity.

“Not when it comes to you, my love.” Your boyfriend answers, his voice a sweet melancholy symphony. “Now, why don’t I run a hot bath for you and make us something to eat?” He suggests, his fingers lacing with yours. “It’s our day off, so, please, rest.” He murmurs, honeyed lips leaving the softest kiss ever known to your cheek.

“I’d like that.” You reply, squeezing Tenn’s hands a little tighter. “I’d really love that.”

Your boyfriend gives you a tender smile, bringing you close to him again, wrapping you in the sweetness of his delicate hug.

“I’d love that too, my [Y/n].”

You look up at him. Then:

“I love you, Tenn-Tenn.”

Shades of vibrant pink flower across his cheeks at your use of the cute nickname, eyes of rosé dreams softening even more when he regards you.

“I love you too. More than you’ll ever know.”

Protected in Tenn’s embrace, you feel the exhaustion and hunger of the last few weeks seeping away.

Your Tenn really is an angel, you think, as you bathe in his comforting light for a few more instants.

♡ TSUNASHI RYUNOSUKE

— Sweet Ryu, who just wants to see you always smiling.

— He’s been feeling this ache lately; the time you two share together has been diminishing; your smiles have become more rare; you’re not there when he wakes up or when he goes to bed.

— And in moments when you two are actually together, you barely talk, just cuddling up into him, your face buried in his chest.

— Don’t get him wrong, he loves holding you close, he really does, but there’s something in your smile that feels… off.

— As if you were a candle, out in a windy night, threatening to topple over and either extinguish or go up in flames.

— Ryu’s worried… Have you been eating properly lately? He knows you work at different places and don’t really have the time to sit down and have nutritious meals nor to prepare them.

— He’ll have to make up for it.

♡

The sound of the front door opening and closing announces your return.

Outside, it’s pitch dark night, mid-autumn wind blowing with force, the trees lining the street inevitably bending to its imposing tune.

You carelessly throw your bag to the floor as you remove your shoes, too exhausted to even sort out the files inside. That’s a future you problem, for now.

Releasing a breath, you pull back your shoulders, an attempt at releasing some of the accumulated tension.

“Long day?” A voice you loved, no matter if it was whispering sweet nothings or singing on bright stages, asks.

Your lips curl up in a soft smile, following the sound of his voice to the kitchen.

“You could say that.” You sigh, slumping on one of the chairs.

Your boyfriend turns around, switching off the fire momentarily.

It’s cute, you think, the sight of him donning an apron, cooking so peacefully and joyfully… If you weren’t so tired you’d love nothing more than to help him with it… But truth be told, lately you don’t even have time to pack your own lunch boxes.

“You know,” Ryu takes a seat next to you, his hand on yours over the table. “If there’s ever anything troubling you, I’m here to help you through it. No matter what it is, we’ll face it together.”

His eyes of melted sunlight stare at you with determination; so inviting, a blank book beckoning you to write in a language only you two speak all of your worries.

“Well it’s just…” You begin. “Lately, I’m… I feel…like work is taking up so much from me… I barely have time to spend with you or to eat…”

As if to prove your point, your belly chooses that exact moment to grumble.

“Damn it, that’s embarrassing.” You curse through gritted teeth.

Ryunosuke offers you one of his serene smiles.

“Dinner will be ready in a minute, my dear.”

He stands up, lips brushing against your forehead in a kiss that’s loving and reassuring.

“Just relax and let me take care of you tonight.” He softly tells you as he parts.

You’re glad you have the day off tomorrow. You’re so making up for lost time with him.

[ros3ybabe]

Weekly Check In - November 12th, 2023 🎀

ugh I feel like I’ve been neglecting my blogs, and that’s not what I want to be doing!!!

I have finals coming up so soon, including exams and final papers (looking at you, psychology research paper). Not to mention I’m still working 5 days a week, classes 4 days a week, working out 3-5 days a week on top of all my adulting duties. It’s safe to safe I have been a little stressed lately, no doubt about that. It really got me bad because it was impacting my relationship with my boyfriend and the last thing I want to do is cause unnecessary stress and anxiety for him. I know I let my stress and anxieties get the best of me when I realized I was the one causing 98% of all of our arguments and issues this last few weeks. Luckily I was able to come to the realization that it had been my fault, so him and I talked it through and worked it out and I missed him that I would work both on myself more as well as work with my therapist and develop better coping strategies for times of high stress.

🩷 let’s recap this last week with some highlights! And then I will tal about my goals for the upcoming week!

I had to go talk to my PSYC TA about how far I’d fallen behind in the class and she was able to give me some encouragement and a lot of help and really set me on the path in the right direction, so I definitely have hope that I’ll pass this class with a B at worst, which is still an awesome grade!

I finally made it back to my cooking class and the professor was so kind, he told me it always upset his days when I’d miss class for the week and he asked me if was doing okay and how things were going. I think he’s in his 50s or 60s, and he’s just a very kind man, reminds me of my own dad. Has that typical old man dad humor and his cooking class has actually help me become more comfortable with my own cooking skills as of this semester. Definitely one of my favorite classes, and my classmates were the best too.

I registered for the next semester and I am sooo looking forward to the course load. Well, for the most part anyways. I have to retake Chemistry 2 as well as the lab but luckily the college offers a supplemental type of course to help with the actual class so that’s gonna be awesome. I’m also taking a sports medicine focused medical terminology course online, another once a week food focused course about food production, a psychology of emotion course (super super excited for this class), and I registered for a yoga class for the semester! I feel like having yoga twice a week will definitely help with stress and relaxation and just overall keep me on the right track health wise for the semester! I think I’m taking a total of almost 18 credit hours but other yoga class itself is 2 credits so it’s definitely gonna be an easier semester at least schedule and course load wise.

My work bestie had her baby shower! I can’t believe she’s 8 months pregnant with a little boy, he’s already so lucky to have her and her man as parents. She was absolutely glowing at her baby shower and I’m so happy that I got to go and support her. I’ve known her for going on three years already so it made my day to both be invited and get to see how excited she got when I went.

I bought matcha powder! (Amongst other health stuff, including some new gym gear for my lower body days) I have a mini traditional matcha set so I thought I’d finally use it no bought some matcha powder online! I’m super excited to try my hand at making myself matcha lattes. I even bought a milk frother so I’m a little excited.

I changed up my fitness goals and routine a bit. I’m still going to the gym 3 days a week for weight lifting, but now two of those are lower body days and the other is an upper body day. I’m also going to continue with my two days of cardio but on those two days I am also going to do some at home mat Pilates to help with my overall fitness, appearance, and health goals. I’ve heard that some lower intensity workouts are pretty good for women with PCOS so I thought incorporating that would be a good idea.

I’m Vitamin D deficient and I had no idea! I used to take vitamin D supplements at my old doctors request when I was a teenager but I stopped when I can rot college because I was no longer being advised to take it nor were my blood levels being check regularly so I figured ehh not a big deal but I recently got lab work done and yep, I am semi severely vitamin d deficient. So now I gotta look into different foods I can incorporate as well as a vitamin d supplement and more time in the sun!

I’ve been keeping up a decent skincare routine with a bunch of new products I bought and can I just say, the Anua Heartleaf Oil Cleanser is an absolute god send. I’m obsessed with Asian/Korean skincare. It’s done so much for my skin, I can’t recommend it enough!

overall, not a bad week this last week. this recap is for only (mainly) November 4th through yesterday, November 11th.

🩷 my upcoming goals and things for this week! (November 12th thru 18th)

Keep up with all my homework and turning assignments in completed and on time. I’m trying to finish the semester off strong, or at least as strong as I can. That just means it’s grind time and I gotta buckle down and get my school stuff done.

Insurance. I need to purchase insurance because the state I live in says I make too much to qualify for full coverage insurance which is an issue with the meds I take and the doctors I currently see, as well as my therapist. Adulting, yay!

Complete at least a draft and/or reel for my dietetics mentor by Saturday/next Sunday as the deadline was to have something sent to her by Monday at noon. So my goal is to have some drafts of content for her as soon as possible.

Work out at least three days this week. I’ve been consistent with going every week for the last four weeks but I haven’t been as consistent with how many days within the week that I’ve been going. So that’s definitely a goal of mine.

Look into a Pilates class/studio I can join by the beginning of next semester. I definitely want to take some classes to help with form and proper technique, but I think I want to give myself some time to build more confidence so that way I can give it my all in the future classes I take. Plus, my finances don’t exactly permit me taking Pilates classes at the moment. So my goal is to do some research now and then make a decision by mid January.

My boyfriend and I are hitting a year and a half together this week! Ahh I love him so much, I’m so excited for yet another milestone. Pretty soon we’ll be coming up on two years and I just couldn’t be happier. My man is my best friend, I’m so lucky and grateful that I have him in my life, especially as my partner <3

Attempt to make a matcha latte! My matcha powder comes in this week so I’m gonna try my hand at making my own matcha now!

Keep consistent with my skin care and self care. Also pick up journaling again this week as I think it’ll help me sort out my stressors and anxieties without harming my relationship with my man or my relationship with myself. Self care and working on my own well being benefit me in so many ways, I just need to keep consistent with it.

Restart my Duolingo and Busuu streaks as an attempt to get back into learning the Japanese language! Also begin to pick up Spanish again! Spanish is not too difficult for me to understand as a lot of people I’m around speak the language and I also took classes in high school and some in college. So I think splitting my time between Spanish and Japanese will be good and keep me from being bored and dropping my language studies altogether. I’m going to start with Spanish Duolingo and just go from there with it! once I get more comfortable with the languages I will start making small posts in those languages! Spanish will definitely come easier than Japanese tho, that’s for sure.

that’s all for this upcoming week! It feels like it’s going to be busy but next week is our break for thanksgiving so that’s one week of rest and relaxation and recovery for me. I won’t be spending the holiday with anyone but I don’t mind, it gives me a day to be mindful and grateful and just give me some time to myself that day, and for the whole week. Everyone who knows me in person knows I definitely need the time for myself. I think it’ll be very restorative for sure.

for those of you who follow my side blogs for my fitness, I’ll be posting to it here soon as well! I think I might update you on my current split and routine more in depth then what I mentioned here. And I’m going to drop a review of some of the new skincare products I’ve recently bought and tried as well! I’ll try to do a mid week update this week on this blog too!

til next time, lovelies 🩷🤍

[ask-the-t-sanders-sides]

ARC ENDING: Logan's POV

[TW: this part features implied neglect, if this triggers you, please skip this part, its not more important than your health.]

This part connects to Cronus'. read this one first.

enjoy :] <3 (you can find all the other parts on #arcend on this blog)

"Cronus, i appreciate you attempting to contribute, but i need you to stop."

"stop what? I just want to make sure no one gets hurt again"

"but its not helping. You constantly trying to take over me is not helpful, and it will never be."

"but at least you wont have to feel the pain when i fail you if i do."

"Cronus... We- no.. I trust you to help on your own, as an individual"

"why? You know I've never done that, you know I'll mess up!"

"even if you will, I wont hate you for it! Everyone makes mistakes, even I do. Thats what makes us what we are. Mistakes are an essential part of learning and progressing. Without mistakes you will not be able to grow and evolve. If you make mistakes, those that will hate you are those you need to hate back. Its not 'bad' or 'wrong' to make mistakes, its just another way to learn."

Cronus sighs, his eyes full of tears. I hope he understands what im saying, I hope he knows I care. I dont want him to end up the way I did.

"Th-" he stutters for a few seconds, his words tripping on tears, "Thank you, Logan" he finally says as the tears run down his face, his voice trembling.

"of course. If you ever need to talk to someone, even if you're not looking for anything specific, im always here."

"do you think he hates me?"

"i dont think so, he's probably afraid of you because of your past actions. He's not the kind of side to hate someone for actions induced by fear."

"honestly i could understand if he doesn't forgive me, i was a horrible brother"

"horrible? No... you were scared. He was a lot of responsibility, you weren't ready for it. If you talk to him, and explain why you did those things, he'll surely understand your actions"

"are you sure? He's very emotional, and he overthinks things... he might take it as a joke or even an insult... I dont want us to end up as separate from each other as Creativity"

"im certain that he will understand, even if it takes him a while to show it. As much as he tries to hide it, he's the most sympathetic side here."

"if you say that.. i trust you" he wipes his tears

Never have I thought to hear these words from someone other than Remus. This... It... It hurts to hear... It hurts to hear it from someone who genuinely means it... Why does it hurt? It feels like.. like a deep paper cut, something so simple, hurts so much.

"I..." And for the first time, i find myself struggling to find the right words. We sit in silence for a few seconds before I manage to find my words, "I appreciate you saying that."

Cronus turns to face me, noticing my eyes shut tight.. im holding back tears, again. I dont know if they're positive or negative tears, but they're strong, and its terrifying.

[gurlgallade]

@whatvioletdoes-blog Alright! Angst fic dollhouse scene! Minimal context! Enjoy!

(Notes: Blue swearing per usual, neglect of physical needs, general implication that Vio is Not Coping Well with things. He’s not the only one, but he’s the focus guy here. Also Vidow mention.)

💙 • 💙 • 💙 • 💙

A purple-painted floor is pressed up against Blue’s face. Not water-proofed, a little rough, smells kind of like dirt and dead leaves.

Where the fuck is he? When he scrambles to his feet, woozy patches of darkness and colored spots speckle his vision. Did he faint? Or, did whoever was in here before him faint? Link’s body feels so bad! He’s hungry, and his hands have writing cramps, and he feels weird-shaped.

Fuck, those aren’t even hands. Why does he have paws. Why does he have a feathery Minish tail!?

Blue staggers over to the nearest window. It doesn’t have any glass; he just sticks his head out without any problem. The enormous leaves of a bush block most of the forest from view, but the trees are mountains to him, and the nearest inky-capped mushroom is at least twice his height. He has to be in a dollhouse.

His eyes widen. The fact that he can be Minish-sized again would be awesome, if he didn’t feel like death!

But how did this...?

Wait. He knows the answer. It was staring him in the face when he woke up. There is exactly one part of Link with the dedication and nerdery necessary to pull something like this off.

He turns around, glowering into the lavender walls of the house. Every one has scraps of torn paper tacked down to it. Some are connected by mauve sewing thread; the spool is being used as a side-table, holding a thimble half-filled with viscous green stamina potion. Is... is that all he’s eaten today? How long has he been here?

The little doll bookshelves are filled with tiny Minish-made tomes, and shrunken books from the Royal Library (oh that’s why Maggie’s been nagging at him), and stacks of paper with even more notes scrawled down.

Based on the open books on the dining table, one half-filled Minish journal and one from the library, it looks like a certain someone is trying to make copies.

Really, it looks like he passed out doing it.

Goddesses, Violet, you fucking freak. Somebody’s been hard at work.

Blue... also feels something weird in the air, now that he’s paying attention. A familiar dread. It feels a little like the darkness carried on Vaati’s winds, and a lot like the name he can’t think about at all costs if he doesn’t want to deal with Vio right now — the smirking boy that he absolutely did not kiss (eugh). Not this him, anyway.

Blue creeps around, vaguely eyeing Vi’s notes. Blah blah blah, Minish portal incantations, something something The Banished Tribe, portals to other worlds, yadda yadda yadda. Shit he won’t get without a verbal summary by someone more in the know.

Oh, there’s stairs behind these shelves.

Blue takes them two at a time, curiosity powering through his exhaustion. The dolly attic door feels flimsy as he pushes it open.

There’s exactly two things in the room. The first is a messy bed-nest made of leather shreds and scrap fabric, topped with a couple open books. The second is a jagged fragment of liquid black peeking out from under a handkerchief. It reflects his uneasy scowl, eyes cut off; his hair is getting pretty long.

Wait.

That’s a mirror, isn’t it.

Blue scrambles back downstairs, swallowing his panic.

Nope. Nope! NOPE. That is NOT a piece of the dark mirror, he refuses to belive it. Vio did not somehow manage to get his grubby hands on fuckery like that!

He’s going to visit Festari and Gentari, eat a berry or something, and then go back to the dollhouse for a nap. Somewhere besides the attic bed. He’ll sleep on the floor if he has to, because he’s done. He’s fucking done. Either Vi can wake up without realizing that he’s been caught, or one of the other two can deal with this shit.

“What the FUCK is my life anymore!?”

[vegitoswife-archive]

A/N: I've been neglecting Gogeta so here's a lil something dedicated solely to him. I had a slightly different and lengthier version of this initially planned, but figured it'd be better to focus on something more condensed.

SUMMARY: You and Gogeta don't know each other too well, but you invite him over for dinner anyway. [ AU!Gogeta x GN!Adult!Reader ] TAGLIST: @carnal-lnstinct / @yeowangies / @enayru / @miss-taura (Like this post to be added to my tag list!)

CONTENT: Fluff, Slice of Life, "You" eating meat (just as a heads up to any vegeta/rians or veg/ans who peek at this). SFW.

(PROSHIP/COMSHIP DNI. BLANK/UNCUSTOMIZED BLOGS DNI.)

You were surprised by your own boldness. You weren’t quite sure what came over you, but when the idea to invite Gogeta over for dinner at your place sprung into your mind, nothing stopped your mouth from moving and words of said request from spilling out. You were familiar with him enough, and most importantly, comfortable enough to allow him into your living space. You remembered the surprised look that crossed his normally emotionless features, and especially the splash of red that filled his skin. He didn’t respond right away, and you started to worry that you overstepped a line, but he did eventually speak – saying yes.

Here the two of you were now, seated at your lightly decorated dinner table with the light from the setting sun illuminating the room. You had prepared a mere steak dinner, but you were far more focused on seeing how Gogeta reacted to your cooking than you were in eating it yourself at the moment.

“Do you like it?” Your voice broke the stretch of silence between you, though it wasn’t terribly awkward. Gogeta looked up from his plate, singular bang shifting across his forehead, chewing. He nodded, and the pressure weighing your chest down faded.

“Great. I’m glad.” You felt content enough to start eating yourself, but you couldn’t help but still stare somewhat at your guest. How couldn’t you? You weren’t ignorant to how handsome Gogeta was. Today, possibly because you stated this would just be a casual occasion, he was clothed in a turtleneck sweater and navy blue jeans with his black tail coiled around his waist like a makeshift belt. His pair of sneakers, though simple, complemented the entire outfit well. It wasn’t anything to gape at on paper, but on him? He looked dashing, especially with his muscles filling out his sweater so well.

This wasn’t the first time he did. Maybe he always looked good no matter what he was wearing.

“Is there a reason why you arranged this?”

His voice, low and smooth, cut through your train of thought. Dark eyes met your own, and your heart unexplainably quickened. You could sense that he wasn’t being accusatory, only genuinely curious. But how could you put this into words…

“Well…I know we first met not too long ago and aren’t very close, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to spend more time together like this to change that. Break the rest of the ice I guess.” Warmth flooded your face, but you continued to look into his eyes. His brow quirked.

“Are you keen on getting to know me better, then?”

“Yes.” You nodded your head, smiling softly. “Is that ok?”

Gogeta appeared to mull over what to say next, placing his fork and knife down. The way he was gazing at you wasn’t something you could fully put into words, but there was something awfully cute about it. Has anyone ever shown interest in him like this? Most likely not. You frankly struggled to believe otherwise.

“Yes. I don’t mind.” To your delight, a little smile appeared on his face. It further made him endearing, but you could pinpoint something…hesitant? About it. You completely expected him to be honest with you, so you doubted he was lying for your sake, but something told you to question it anyway.

“Are you sure? I get it, if I’m coming off as weird…”

“No, you aren’t. I’m not used to this is all. Someone wanting to…know me.”

So your suspicions were correct. But did his words there carry hidden meaning? You didn’t know for sure. Regardless, now you believed Gogeta just didn’t have much of anyone to talk to like this. A shame. Your interest in his life was growing more and more, but you weren’t at the stage yet where you could try and pry into it. You didn’t want to scare him off. He was so fascinating.

“That’s changed now. But don’t worry, only share what you’re comfortable with me knowing. And I’d be happy to share more about myself too. So don’t be shy.”

You winked at him. He started blushing again, just what you wanted to see. This time, he regained his composure quickly and shot you a little smirk that had you grip your fork tightly. He resumed eating, and you followed suit. He finished his plate in the next minute.

“Oh, did you want seconds?”

“Sure, if you didn’t want any.”

Gogeta ended up eating everything else you prepared for the evening, and still mentioned to you later that he wasn’t full. You certainly learned then that his stomach was apparently bottomless.

(PROSHIP/COMSHIP DNI. BLANK/UNCUSTOMIZED BLOGS DNI.)

[savnofilter]

Ohhh i’m so in love with this concept I’ve always been a sucker for marriage tropes, I would love to see more of it bb <3 for me touya would have to give his absolute all, as in a honeymoon 2.0 but instead of like a month it’s going to be 6 months long, he needs to show that he deserves me again!

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/savnofilter/728094754520383488

oh my god yes.

at first, he definitely buys you tons of expensive gifts, takes you out for dinners, vacations and etc. you almost feel bitter at how hard he's going, but you miss this type of stuff—him being around you and not ignoring your existence. this is what it took for him to acknowledge you again? divorce papers? what gets you is he thinks that the material possessions will save your marriage—it won't. when he notices that you're starting to pull away and his materialistic ways aren't working, he uses his actions to make sure you stay with him. smothers you in his everything. when you wake up, it should be him you see. in the middle of day he'll show up to your job or the hobby you take on if you're stay-at-home spouse. and of course, Touya is the last thing you see before you fall asleep at night. and he is more than willing to play the long game; which is what this is to him, a game. it's not like his neglect was because he was cheating on you, he was just... 'busy'.

Touya can't help but laugh at the thought of you innocently believing that you'll never see him again if you divorce. there's a reason why he married you and not all the other people around him. he'll never just let you go.

[ezras-left-thumb]

𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒥𝒜 𝒜𝒢𝐸 𝒞𝐻𝒜𝑅𝒯

I've been neglecting this blog for a stupid amount of time so here is (my) guide to the ninja's ages throughout my fic.

These are entirely my headcanons btw, fight the wall because my fic my rules.

Spoiler warning below the cut! (I'm saying "era" because I don't have a chosen name for these times that the seasons cover.) ((Also, if you cant be bothered to read the multitude of paragraphs I've written, scroll to the very bottom and there will be a rounded-up since-digit list of their average (?) ages throughout the fic.))

Prologue/prequel chapter: Rayne ran way when she was around 10, 10 and a half-ish. She's on her own for around 4 years.

Rise of the Snakes–LOTGN Era: She's around 14, whilst Lloyd is 10. (He's then aged up to 13-ish with the Tomorrow's Tea.) Kai and Jay are both halfway through 15, though Jay is two months older than Kai. Cole and Zane (though he is a robot) are both around 16. Nya is 13.

Rebooted Era: My personal theory is that 5-6 months passed in this time since everyone got accommodated to a new lifestyle, which makes everyone about half a year older. Lloyd and Nya are almost 14, Jay is almost 16. Rayne is 14 and 6 months.

Tournament of Elements Era: About 7 months later, Kai and Jay are 16, Zane is almost 17, Rayne is almost 15 and Lloyd and Nya are around the 14 and 3-4 month range.

Possession era: Personally I just think it makes it all the more sad if Lloyd and Rayne weren't given a lot of time to grieve, so only about a month has passed since the end of Chen's tournament. Rayne turns 15 the day Lloyd gets possessd by Morro (yikes), Cole is almost 17, Zane is freshly 17, Lloyd and Nya are halfway through 14.

Skybound didn't happen in this timeline for a multitude of reasons. RIP.

Hands of Time Era: Not much time has passed so I'd say they're all around the same age as Possession, just a month or two older.

Sons of Garmadon era: AKA my FAV EVER season. Ily the Oni Trilogy. Anyways, I like it in canon when they said a year has passed since Krux and Acronix, so I stuck to that. Everyone is like a year and a month older. Cole and Zane are 18, Kai and Jay 17, Lloyd and Nya are halfway through 15 and Rayne is freshly 16.

Hunted Era: Basically the same ages as SoG because this took place over a week or so.

March of the Oni era: I'd say only a month or two has passed before this happens, so everyone is two months older.

Secrets of Forbidden Spinjitzu Era: 6-7 months passed between S10 and now, so that means they're all just a little bit older. Cole and Zane are well on their way to 19, Kai and Jay are almost 18, Lloyd and Nya are both freshly 16 and Rayne is 16 and eight months.

Prime Empire also didn't happen because. um. we all know why.

Rayne's OC season with a yet-to-be-disclosed name: I'd like to think 3 or so months passed since the ninja returned from the Never Realm so Zane is allowed to heal a little bit from that psychological trauma. So everyone is a few months older.

Master of the Mountain Era: A month and a half has passed since the end of Rayne's OC season, which means Kai and Jay are now 18, Lloyd and Nya are a few months into 16, Rayne is turning 17 in a few months and Zane is very very close to 19.

The Island/Seabound Era: Only two months passed from MotM until now, so they're all just a little bit older. Zane is 19 and Cole is two months behind, Rayne is about to turn 17 and Lloyd and Nya are 16½.

Crystallised Era: Canon dictates that a year passed but I will not be chained down by ink on paper, so I say a year and a half for extra tragedy. Everyone is estranged and distanced from each other. Still grieving. Lloyd is 18 (Nya would be 18. She technically is, since I hc that when she comes back she aged.) Cole and Zane are over 20, Kai and Jay are both 19½ish. Rayne is 18 and like 5 months.

Dragons Rising: Now this is where the fandom is torn. I personally think that 4-6 years have passed since Crystallised and the Merge, but I like to lean more towards the 4-5 range. Cole and Zane are 25ish, Kai and Jay are now 24½, Rayne is 23 and a bit and Lloyd and Nya are both halfway through 22.

I hope that was comprehensible lol. For those of you who scrolled and didn't read through the whole bloody essay that I wrote:

Rise of the Snakes–Legacy of the Green Ninja: Kai, Jay: 15 Cole, Zane: 16 Rayne: 14 Lloyd: 10 Nya: 13

Rebooted: Kai, Jay: 15 Cole, Zane: 16 Rayne: 14 Lloyd, Nya: 13

Tournament of Elements: Kai, Jay, Cole, Zane: 16 Rayne: 14 Lloyd, Nya: 13

Possession: Kai, Jay, Cole: 16 Zane: 17 Rayne: 15 Lloyd, Nya: 14

Hands of Time: Kai, Jay: 16 Cole, Zane: 17 Rayne: 15 Lloyd, Nya: 14

Sons of Garmadon–March of the Oni: Kai, Jay: 17 Cole, Zane: 18 Rayne: 16 Lloyd, Nya: 15

Secrets of Forbidden Spinjitzu–OC Season: Kai, Jay: 17 Cole, Zane: 18 Rayne, Lloyd, Nya: 16

Master of the Mountain: Kai, Jay, Cole, Zane: 18 Rayne, Lloyd, Nya: 16

The Island & Seabound: Kai, Jay, Cole: 18 Zane: 19 Rayne, Lloyd, Nya: 16

Crystallised: Kai, Jay, Cole: 19 Zane: 20 Rayne, Lloyd, Nya: 18

Dragons Rising: Kai, Jay, 24 Cole, Zane: 25 Rayne: 23 Lloyd, Nya: 22