#yes this is good she is good she can be everything i was and more

[etherealkissed88]

how i manifest when i feel anxious •°. *࿐

i decide i have what i want…

when i feel anxiety -> i let it pass while knowing its only a human reaction

◦ since i am beyond just a human (i am limitless imagination/self), i know any anxiety is below me and it has nothing to do with my limitless self. i have exactly what i decided i have, regardless of any anxiety.

know anxiety usually comes from a fear of failure

◦ so, i cannot limit myself based on what i see or what i negatively assume my future will look like bc i am always beyond the 3d, no matter what feelings/anxiety my human self experiences.

◦ i become indifferent/i dont care about what i see or what i assume i will see because i know everything comes together in the 3d once i change self/know its done. fact: everything always comes together and works out in the end. being indifferent to the 3d = being indifferent to emotions, anxiety and everything that doesnt serve you.

dont fight it, dont avoid it, tackle it head on

◦ acknowledge you are experiencing anxiety bc you are. yes it can feel like shit but it doesnt have to affect who you are being (whatever version of self you are embodying). again, i can choose to be indifferent to this anxiety. you dont have to be scared of the anxiety. it is a natural human response. cry if you need to, let it all out. dont try to suppress it bc that will only come to bite you back in the ass, believe me.

◦ take care of your mental health in whatever ways necessary. when i used to experience anxiety, i used to take walks in the park, clear my head, meditate, express myself and my emotions through art and journaling, etc. remember nothing you do (or feel) in the 3d has to affect who you are being/your state.

"how can i still have anxiety yet still be a desired version of me?"

anxiety has no affect on anything unless you allow it to change your identity. you are the one with power, the anxiety is only an experience, similar to breathing in oxygen and using our sense of touch; its all neutral. when you start surrendering to the anxiety, you are creating and accepting negative stories that you create based on the feeling of anxiety. allowing that anxious feeling to change your state/identity is surrendering to something you view as more "powerful" than you. stop transforming that anxiety into a state that you embody based on the false, negative stories u imagine.

remember a 3d experience or anxious feelings doesnt have to influence who you are being. an example: a model who knows (fulfilled) that she is graceful and beautiful can have anxiety about doing her catwalk. the anxiety is normal, she can experience the symptoms of anxiety (shortness of breath, dry mouth, shaking) but her core identity/state is still a graceful model. the anxiety is only a temporary feeling. usually when we experience these feelings, they occupy all of our attention in that moment which is why it seems so scary but in reality, its not that big a deal. know that anxiety is just a feeling. you are safe. you can still experience shitty feelings while knowing you are a bad bitch!

you dont always identify with everything you experience. for example, a lot of people experience good things and still identify as people who are unworthy of good things. so its really up to you to choose what to identify with.

i know my only job is knowing its done

◦ if i just decided its done, as the operant power, as i say goes, therefore its done. so my job is done. anxiety is part of the 3d, not my limitless self, imagination. so i can be indifferent and experience it without identifying with it, the same way people manifest what they desire while experiencing their shitty circumstances daily (because they do not identify with those shitty experiences).

◦ ive heard/experienced situations were we know its done yet we cried and felt like shit, and what we wanted still manifested into the 3d. bc anxiety is only a feeling. do not allow your feelings to take hold of your state, but if it does, its never the end of the world... just get back in the state. 3d shit/anxiety doesnt have to intervene with who you are being/what you identify with.

kisses, jani ☆

#etherealkissed🎀 #etherealkissed #law of assumption #loa blog #manifesting #loassumption #neville goddard #edward art #imagination creates reality #loastates #loass states #loa assumptions #law of manifestation #master manifestor

[tsimvkas]

come back home — mason mount

A/N: really sad to hear about the new injury so maybe this can distract u guys a bit. im ngl, this one is pretty personal to me so please take care of it. tbh this is a special fic for mi amore elisa, and i hope it matches her expectations. this story wouldn’t exist without you bestie 🫶🏻

word count: 8.5k | masterlist

content: reader has mommy issues, dad!mason, angsty and fluffy end

When your mum called, you didn’t think twice.

She asked you to spend a week with her, and you accepted straight away, incapable of believing that your brother left her alone without warning you.

To be fair, you know you’re not on speaking terms with him, but it's your mother. How could he let her alone?

When you told Mason, you could see the insecurity on his face. Since you gave birth to your baby boy, you had never ever left the house without him, and leaving Manchester to go back to your mum’s in London was a big thing, but eventually he sighed and nodded.

“Just make sure you call me everyday” he kissed your forehead before kissing Leo. Just a week, you told him. In a week you would be back to your husband.

You met Mason at the Champions League final im the 20/21 season, and you like to say it was love at first sigh, the way your relationship instantly clicked is still surprising. You dated for a year before he asked you to be his wife, and you thinks you would’ve said yes another million times.

You’ve been together through the good enough season of 21/22, and all the shit of 22/23. You got pregnant in the middle of his last season for Chelsea, and Luke was born already in Manchester, in October.

Since Mason’s injury in November he’s been able to participate more, spending lots of time with his son as he doesn’t need to go to away games, and you know that this week away will make both of them sad.

You tried to tell yourself that since Mason is back at the regular training and ready to be back on the pitch, they would spend less time together anyway. It didn’t make the decision any easier.

When you packed for a week and got into the car, your husband helped to put Luke in the baby seat before kissing you lovely.

“Call me every night. Don’t let her be alone with Luke, please? And come back soon” he whispered against your lips, stroking your chin. “I love you”

“I love you” you kissed him, before reluctantly driving away from your husband.

Sundays are usually already sad and gray, but Mason is sure his just hit another level of depression.

—

It was already night when you got to your mum’s house, not talking much to her before settling on Matt’s old room and texting Mason.

You instantly found out that it would be a difficult week: it was the first time you were away from Mason since you gave birth, and the first time Luke had to sleep away from daddy.

The thing is that he couldn’t. You couldn’t put your baby to sleep, not even if your life depended on it. Luke kept loudly crying, tossing and squirming in your arms.

You tried your best to calm him, thinking it could have something bothering him like his current clothes or the weather difference, but not even breastfeeding calmed him down.

Mason tried to help you every time he FaceTimed you, and it was when Luke seemed to feel better but never lasted long.

You were feeling exhausted the whole week, but that didn’t stop your mother from asking you everything she could, like you were still fifteen years old with the responsibility of helping her to clean a house isn’t yours anymore.

Plus, she seemed incredibly bothered about Luke and the fact he wasn’t feeling well, dropping comments about him. You tried your best to ignore, because you know your mother isn’t the easiest person to live with, and since you were leaving soon you didn’t want to fight.

Wednesday night you were missing Mason like crazy, wanting nothing more than to be wrapped with him under the covers, and your heart twisted when his face showed up on your screen.

“Hi baby” Mason murmured, already tucked in bed and making your heart ache with the need of being there and snuggling with him.

“Hi Mase. How are you?”

“Training was fine, and I’m getting closer to come back” he smiled, and you instantly matched his expression.

“I can’t wait to watch you again, love”

You think that is adorable how Mason’s cheeks still got red when you show him affection.

“And how’s your week going?”

“It could’ve been better if I was with you. I miss you” you sighed. “But the week is almost over and I’ll be home soon”

“Good” he yawned, getting more comfortable. . “Show me my little man”

Luke was still wide awake and paying attention to what you were saying, and you showed Mason to him.

“Hi buddy, you’re being a good boy, yeah? Be good to mumma, please. I miss you”

When Luke babbled to him, Mason giggled before wishing you a good night and telling you he loved you.

—

When Saturday came your mother talked to you, saying Matt had some problem and he wouldn’t be back for another week, begging you to stay a little while. The hardest part was telling Mason about it.

“She needs me to stay for one more week, Masey” you murmured, feeling guilty. When Mason didn’t answer you tried again. “I’m sorry, baby. I’ll be home next Sunday”

“It’s okay. I was just hoping you’d be here for Liverpool’s game tomorrow, I think I’ll be subbed on. But it’s okay, you can travel to Brentford's game with Luke” he assured you. “I wish I could go see you during the international break, but they want me to stay in rehab”

“I’m really sorry baby, I tried to contact my brother but he’s being petty” you sighed.

“I understand, princess. I just miss you” he told you gently. “How’s my buddy going?”

“He’s good, he’s just so irritated lately, I think it’s his tooth” you sighed again, feeling tired. “He misses you”

“Poor bubba” Mason pouted, making you smile. “Give him a kiss yeah?”

“Sure” you smiled. “We’ll be back at the end of the week. I love you”

When the week unfolded, you weren’t sure about your decision anymore.

You choose to stay with your mother for one more week over living your husband’s comeback, and in gratitude she spent this time talking bad things about you.

It started with innocent comments. How she would never buy the clothes you were wearing. How you were raising a clingy kid by never letting him sleep alone. How you should breastfeed him less or your boobs would get flaccid.

You tried to shrug it off, like you did when you were younger. You used to believe that your mother was always right and that she was always the mature one, but you’re not so sure anymore.

During the second week you kept calling Mason every night, sharing about your day and showing him to Luke, who would try to grab the phone and put dads on his month. When, without a question if you could or wanted, the second week turned into a third, you could feel Mason losing his patience.

“It’s okay, you can still go to Brentford’s game this Saturday” he repeated, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself instead. “You can bring Luke, Brentford is friendly. How is he doing?”

“He had a fever but he’s fine now” you showed Luke sleeping next to you, his face a little red.

“Let me know if something changes” Mason asked you, and his concerned look just proved you chose the right dad for your son.

You nodded to his image on the small screen, his adorable face almost hidden by the sheets, the bed looking incredibly big.

“Can we sleep on call?” you asked, missing him so much it was physically hurting you. Mason’s face softened and he nodded.

Some people might think that you could just go back home. If you really miss him you would do it, right?

But you know Mason understands your relationship with your mother, how you feel you owe her everything. She raised you, gave you everything you needed.

She was rough sometimes, yes. And there were days you didn’t feel loved at all, but she was still your mum, even when she couldn’t tell you she was proud, even when she couldn’t hug you during storms.

Even when she couldn’t believe you would be someone successful one day.

So you kept there, living your days boringly, washing the dishes and the clothes, playing with Luke, cooking breakfast, lunch and dinner. For her, so she would be happy and proud.

And you were losing your mind.

—

When Brentford's game came, you weren’t able to go. You apologised to him the day before, spending hours on the phone, and even though you could see the sad look in his eyes Mason was still comprehensive.

“She needs me to accompany her to the exam” you told him, and Mason himself could see you weren’t funny about your current situation; you just weren’t brave enough to hurt your mother the way she hurts you and leave.

You were able to watch the game when you came back from your mother’s exam and it wasn’t a surprise to you when Mason changed the whole game by being subbed on.

Luke was already sleeping, so you tried your best not to scream when your husband scored, tearing up to see he dedicated the goal to you by pointing to his ring finger.

You were able to talk with him only for a few minutes before he desperately needed to sleep, whispering that you was proud of him and the way his voice cracked when he told you he loved you made your heart hurt.

Following the week, you weren’t able to talk much with him. Only quick calls at night before he dozed off still holding his phone, feeling much more tired now that he’s back at attending games even though he doesn’t play the full match.

Your Wednesday started with Luke’s little sobs waking you up, and you were sure he wasn’t feeling well again. After breastfeeding and showering with him, you managed to get you both changed and ready to start the day.

When you got downstairs your mother was already in the kitchen, and you could hear her complaining that you were late.

“For what?” you surprised her, and despite being early in the morning she seemed grumpy already.

“For breakfast, what more could it be? I had to cook it myself” she snorted, and you took a deep breath before

“If you’re capable of it, I don’t see what’s wrong” you shrugged.

The truth is that you’re starting to wonder what he hell you’re doing there and why Matt hasn’t come back. What should be a week turned into a month and you was living her life instead of yours.

When you sat at the table for breakfast, after managing to cook your own meal with Luke in one of your arms, you had to take a deep breath as soon as she started to talk.

You’ve heard in silence when she talked about you and Luke, but never makes you more furious like when your mother decides to talk about Mason.

“He could spend more time in the gym” she told you, suddenly. “Your husband”

You were only capable of frowning at her, not understanding why she would brought this out of nowhere.

“What do you mean?”

“He could train more. Maybe some more muscles would make him prettier and better at football” she shrugged, making you laugh in disbelief.

“He’s already pretty and good at football”

“I don’t know, Y/N. I feel like he’s not the right man to you, and I want the best to my little girl”

Mason is the most caring and gentle man you’ve ever known, and you knew you couldn’t sit there and hear her talking shit about him day after day.

“Mum, you can’t be serious. He’s my husband. Not only this, but he’s Luke’s father. Don’t talk about him like that”

“Are you sure he doesn’t cheat on you?” she innocently asked, making you choke on your coffee.

“Mum!” you gasped, not believing what she was saying.

Luke’s eyes widened and you tried to recompose yourself so he wouldn’t cry out of fear

“I mean, he could have anyone… everyone. A skinny and tanned woman, with pretty features…”

There it was. The reason why you grew up so insecure, something that would annoy lots of men — but not Mason. Not your boy, who would reassure you every time and make you really believe that you’re pretty and loved.

Her words still stung though, but you shrugged them off.

“Mason loves me” was everything you told her before leaving the table with Luke.

You went out for a walk with your baby, trying to make the day pass faster and see if he’d feel better after some fresh air. When it started to get dark, you came back home and gave Luke a shower, laying in bed with him.

Later that night Mason called you like he always does, and you were happy to see his name shining on your screen.

“Hi baby” you whispered, but to your surprise he didn’t greet you back.

“How’s Luke?” Mason murmured, and you could sense the tiredness and loneliness in his voice. “Don’t you think you should bring him back home so we can get him to our doctor?”

“Yeah, that’s what I want to do. But I can’t leave my mum alone and Matt won’t answer the phone-”

But Mason had enough, and suddenly he lost his patience.

“And why, exactly, can’t you leave her alone, Y/N? Enlighten me, please. From what I can remember, she can do everything perfectly. She’s not sick, she’s not weak. She’s just using you”

Mason never liked your mother, much due to how she treats you, and you understand. It just hurts that you have so many good things to talk about his mother whilst yours is always giving him reasons to hate her.

“Mason… she’s my mother. Can we not talk about her like that?” you murmured, but you know he’s right.

On the other side, Mason did his best to not scream at you, something he swore he would never, even if it’s out of frustration.

“She’s your mother, yeah. And I’m your fucking husband. I know you never chose to have a narcissist as your mother, but you chose to marry me and I thought I would have an important spot in your life. I know family comes first but I thought that someday you’d start to prioritize the family you made”

You could feel how tired he was. How he needed you to understand his point.

“I’m trying, Mase” was the only thing you were capable of whispering.

“You say you are but you keep choosing her. You keep going when she calls even though you know she’s only going to hurt you. You keep choosing your mother over your husband and I don’t know if I can do this anymore”

“Mason…” your heart dropped. “Don’t say that”

“Do you have any idea of how much I miss my son? How much I’ve been missing my wife? It’s been a month, Y/N. And I feel like you’re not thinking about my feelings, at all”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, it was supposed to be just a week” you tried to defend yourself. “I don’t know what’s going on or why Matt isn’t back yet. It has been hard for me too, yeah? I miss you so much and I’m sorry”

“Well I think you should set your priorities” he murmured before turning the call off on your face.

You instantly felt the tears forming. He hasn’t said it was over, but it was obviously a warning that it wasn’t over just yet.

With a sick Luke in one of your arms, you started to clean the room you had been staying in. Cleaning always helps you, and you let your cry reach out to you during the process, feeling overwhelmed and tired.

You wanted your home and your husband, but as a daughter you feel like you need to take care of your mother. Like you’re supposed to give her everything she’s been giving you your whole life.

After tidying the room you went downstairs to prepare the dinner, and whilst you mixed the sauce something snapped. What were you doing there?

You should be cooking for Mason, so he would have a proper meal after his nap. Luke should be sitting in his baby chair whilst you were humming happy songs. Not there, where your mother can cook her own dinner and clean her own house.

It wasn’t your fault that she couldn’t understand that you have your own family now.

When you set the table for dinner your mother wasn't home yet, and you ate with Luke’s little screams, trying to smile at him. She finally arrived an hour later, and whilst she entered the house you decided that you had enough.

“I’m leaving tomorrow morning” you told her whilst she closed the door. “Mason will face Chelsea and I need to be there. And Luke is sick, so I’m heading back home after the game to take him to his doctor in Manchester”

“What are you talking about? He looks fine”

“I’m his mother. I know when he’s not doing well” you snapped at her. “And don’t come to me saying you don’t wanna be alone. You’re not alone, are you? Because I spent the day here to be with you whilst you’re walking around the city or going to your friend’s house” you tried not to snap. “And getting drunk every Saturday even tho I tell you how much I hate it. We’re leaving tomorrow, whether you like it or not”

Not leaving her time to answer, you went upstairs to sleep a bit. When Luke finally slept you debated whether or not you should send a message to Mason letting him know you would go back home after the game.

Deciding not to disturb him any more and imagining that he was still upset with you, you laid with your son and tried to sleep, but the shooting thoughts wouldn’t let you.

What if Mason had enough? What if he doesn’t want you anymore, what if you are too late?

—

When you woke up, you took Luke in your arms and started to pack. Since you were supposed to stay only for a week you didn’t have much to organise, and soon you were ready to go.

Your plans were to drive to Stamford Bridge and see Mason after the game before heading to Manchester whilst he came back home with the team.

But as soon as you checked beneath the pillow and under the bed, you realised your phone wasn’t anywhere.

Taking Luke downstairs and looking everywhere you could, you tried to ask your mother.

“Have you seen my phone? It’s not where it should be”

“You should take care of your stuff, Y/N. I thought I taught you that your things are your responsibility” she told you with a flat look and you stared at her for a few seconds, in disbelief.

After hours of searching for it, you gave up. There was only an hour left before the game and since you only started to drive recently the idea of driving around without following the GPS terrified you, so you had to make a choice.

Plus, you were tired from searching for it and all you wanted was to eat something and watch the game with Luke.

Deciding to bath with your baby and cook dinner, you sat on the couch to see the game, your stomach churning with the need to be there.

A few minutes into the first half, your mother looked at you from up the stairs.

“I thought you were going back home today?” she teased you, making you frown.

You chose not to answer, paying attention to the game instead. When Mason was finally subbed on you pointed at him, bouncing Luke in your thigh.

“Look at dada, Luke. We’ll see dada soon”

“Dada” he babbled, making you gasp.

“Yeah, dada. It’s your dada” you poked his waist, the teas already forming. Luke couldn’t stop calling for dada once he said it for the first time, and he kept repeating it until the game was over.

You were incredibly sad by the result, knowing you should be at home when Mason gets there so you could hold him and scratch his scalp after his warm bath.

Deciding to sleep early, you waited for your mother to go to her bedroom and carefully brought your bags downstairs before laying with Luke and forcing yourself to sleep, determined to leave the next morning — even if you had to drive like the old ones, asking for instructions and following the signs.

On the other hand, Mason was desperate. He knew from the moment he turned the call off that he needed to apologise for how he talked to you.

But he was angry, stressed and frustrated. He wanted you there, supporting him. Cuddling him after his tiring games, listening to him when he needs to. He wants you there talking about your day, warming the bed, bringing Luke to him after a shower so you can change into your pyjamas.

He wants his family and he can’t cope with the fact they’re not with him.

Mason can’t believe you and Luke weren’t there watching his first goal, and scoring felt bittersweet. He wanted nothing more than to share this moment with you.

Since he met you, Mason knows how hard your mother is. Narcissist, dramatic, always trying to make you feel sorry for hurting her — when you were only setting boundaries.

And he also knows how hard had been for you, not finding the courage to break the circle and move on from her. But in all this time he never had to deal with this, you and his son so far away from him because of a woman who doesn’t even respect her own children.

When he went to bed a few hours after the call, Mason started to worry and he knows you were mad when you didn’t text him before bed, but at the same time he wanted to apologise for the way he talked he still meant everything he said, so he took a deep breath and choose to wait until the next day so he could talk to you properly.

His heart hurt knowing he was going to bed without telling you he loves you, something none of you ever did, but Mason was sure you’d figure it out after the game since you promised you would go, so he did his best to sleep and rest.

—

He looked everywhere. He asked everyone.

You just weren’t there.

When the game ended, Mason just wanted to bring you and his son and tell you he needed you home when he got there. He needed someone he could cry to, someone he could tell how overwhelming being back felt.

All he wanted was to survive the bus drive with all his teammates feeling sorry — for the loss and for him. And then lay in your arms so you could reassure him he’s doing well and that he makes you proud, whilst Luke’s little fingers tried to make him bald.

But they told him you weren’t in the United box and soon he found out you never entered the stadium Mason’s heart twisted.

First he felt a shameful feeling of anger. Why the fuck couldn’t you do this little thing for him? Relationships are supposed to be about making sacrifices and he watched you put yourself first for an entire month, always being understanding. The only thing he expected in return was for you to be there.

And you couldn’t? You say love him so much, but still couldn’t be there?

Then, when he finally showered and changed into some trainers before heading to the bus, Mason was able to check his phone just to see you hadn’t answered his pre-game messages, and quickly his anger turned into worry.

He called you five times, but every call went to voicemail. Mason pondered if you were ignoring him — or if something bad had happened.

Knowing you for four years, he doesn’t think you would give up on your relationship like that. But the way he hung up on you the night before, and how he accused you of not caring about him… he just can’t help but overthink.

With his heart pounding, Mason opened his Instagram app and searched for the only person who could help him, whilst he was forced to come back to Manchester when all he wanted to do was come to you.

—

The sound of the doorbell ringing woke you up, and you checked the hours just to see it was just past 2am. Luke instantly started to cry, and you took him in your arms before rushing downstairs and opening the door to the person you never thought you would see there.

“What are you doing here?” you frowned to your brother.

“Mason called me. Where’s that freak you call your mother?” he said harshly. “Why don’t you answer your phone? Your husband is losing his mind. He thinks something bad happened”

“I’ve been looking for my phone since yesterday morning, I don’t know, it’s vanished” you explained, following him. “Matt! What’s happening?”

“She’s been lying to you, Y/N. She’s probably hiding your phone right now. These are yours?” he pointed to the things you’ve packed, and you nodded. “I was never meant to come back. I told her I was leaving, cause I was tired of the manipulation. I was tired of her telling me my girlfriend doesn’t deserve me or telling me I owe everything I am to her. I owe her nothing”

You could feel the lump already forming in your throat, and you wanted nothing more than to call Mason. Matt silently put your bags in the front door, and soon his girlfriend got out of the car to take them.

“I realised something was wrong” you told him. “And Luke has been feeling sick so I packed, but then the morning I told her I’d go to the game and then head back home I couldn’t find my phone anymore. What Mason told you?”

“Not gonna lie to you, he’s feeling awful. I think he’s been crying, too. He told me you were supposed to go to the game tonight?” he asked, and you nodded, your heart dropping. “He said he tried to call you before and when you ignored him he thought you were still angry, but now that you didn’t show up at Stamford he thinks you either were kidnapped or decided to leave him. There’s only these bags?”

“Yeah” you quickly nodded. “She asked me to spend just a week”

“Compulsive liar” Matt snorted. “Let’s go, get in the car. I’ll take you to my home and we can go to yours in the morning”

You nodded again, but before you could obey him you mother showed up in the stairs.

“What’s going on here?” your mother’s voice made you jump as you were still two kids doing something she wouldn’t approve of.

“Please, don’t. Just go back to your room, I’m taking Y/N’s home”

“You can’t do that!” she raised her voice, trying to show a mother authority she doesn’t have over him anymore.

“What do you mean I can’t do that, you psycho? Leave us alone. You used me for years, I’m not letting you do the same with her”

“Don’t be stupid, Matthew. All I ever asked you was for you to take care of me like I took care of you your whole life. All I ever expected was you both to love me like I loved my childs” she gestured, and you could feel your heart hurting. She’s your mother and you should be so tough with her…

“Why can’t you understand that we have our own family now?” Matt snorted, his big body trying to hide you from your hysterical mother. “Y/N is a mother. She has a child to take care of, she can’t look after you when you’re capable of looking after yourself”

When you realised Luke was about to cry from all the noise, you started to rock him back and forth, trying to protect his ears.

“I am your family. All those years I left my life in standby to raise you. I gave you two food, a home, a warm bed to sleep” your mother shouted, gesturing.

“And as a mother this was exactly what the world expected from you. You did nothing but your obligations. No one asked you to be a mother, so you can’t point your fingers and act like we should be grateful for the simple things you gave us. The minimal” Matt kept his tone low. “But you lacked the essential. The respect for your kids. The love, acceptance. You only love yourself. Now you say we’re not returning everything you did for us but guess what: this is what you did for us. You reap what you sow. You can not raise a child thinking about what they can bring you in the future”

“Everything I’ve done, everything I say is because I care! But go on, make me the villain, take her thy stupid footballer” she turned to face you. “Go back to him and raise this stupid child. Just don’t come back running to mummy when he changes you for a prettier and hotter girl, leaving you with only his clone to remind you of what you’ve lost!”

It was unconscious, the way you left the safe space Matt had created for you and advanced in her direction. You never believed you were capable until it was done, the echo of your hand meeting her cheek spreading in the silent room.

“Talk about me as much as you want. But do never, ever again talk about my husband or my son. Is not our fucking fault dad couldn’t handle your behaviour anymore, and is not our fucking fault he left you for a prettier and hotter woman” you pointed a finger to her face. “I’m done with you. I’m done with you forever, and if cutting you from my life is what I need to do so I won’t be the wife and mother you were, then I’m doing it right now”

“C’mon, Y/N” Matt put a hand on your shoulder, slowly bringing you closer to him. “Let’s go home”

You checked Luke on your arms afraid your impulsive action had hurt him, whilst Matt took you outside.

“She still has my phone-” you realised before you could enter your car.

“Leave it behind, yeah? Mason can buy you a new one. Look at it as a new beginning” he squeezed your shoulders, and it felt like having a brother again.

In that moment you understood that this was what had happened to him, too. That this was the reason he never replied to you anymore.

When Matt left his mother’s house in an attempt to be free, he had to leave everything behind, including you.

You think you won’t ever really understand what it cost him to come back there, but he did it.

He could never leave his little sister behind.

—

You took Luke out from the baby seat before following Alice inside. She came back driving Matt’s car whilst he drove yours, so you hadn’t had the chance to talk to her.

Once inside, Matt put you in the biggest guest room of his house, trying his best to make you comfortable. You used the sheets and the pillows to make a fort around Luke, and went downstairs to talk to your brother after so long.

After making you all tea, Alice sat besides him and you genuinely smiled seeing how they clearly completed each other.

You started by explaining to them what she told you in the first place, and how she was trying to keep you there for more and more days every time another week ended. When you told about your fight with Mason, Matt was quick to reassure you that he knows Mase will understand you, but you were still feeling reckless and seeing your husband was the only thing you wanted.

“I tried to contact you” Matt told you shyly. “It’s been months since I left her house, maybe six?”

“Around Luke’s birth” you whispered.

“But I left my phone too. It was a choice I had to make. Since you don’t have an Instagram, I tried Mason’s but-”

“He’s too famous to see your message” you giggled.

“I think he unfollowed me when he thought we weren’t on speaking terms- when you thought we weren’t. He’s a good one, you know?”

“He is” you smiled, thinking about your boy.

“I’ll get the car ready for the trip” he murmured, suddenly looking awkward.

As soon as he left, Alice saw you were still processing your feelings and came to sit near you. After a few seconds in silence, she started to talk.

“You don’t have to love her just because she’s your mother” she told you, holding your hand. “Mothers aren’t saints, Y/N. It’s okay to dislike our mothers when they act bad, when they hurt you. It’s okay to even hate a mother that does no good to her kids”

“But she’s my blood” you told her the same you’ve always told your brother, but as a woman your age Alice understands your feelings and is delicate to answer you.

“That doesn’t mean anything. Do you see Debbie? Matt told me about her, and how much she cares about you. She’s your blood? No. But she’s been treating you better than your blood has” she ran hiii her fingers through your hair. “I know it’s hard to make this decision, but a mother that hurts and lies, a mother that tries to get in the middle of your marriage isn’t a good mother. Just think if you’d ever do to Luke any of the stuff she did to you”

When you looked up your brother was by the door, and you know he’s the only one who actually shares this controversial feeling with you.

“I wanna go home” you sniffed. “To Mason”

“We’ll take you there” Matt assured you, stretching his arms out to you. “But give me a hug first”

“I’m so sorry she got between us” you murmured after hugging him, resting your face on his shoulder.

“Me too. But see? We’re free now, princess. Your big brother is here”

—

When he opened the door for you early in the morning, Mason’s heart dropped. With Matt and his girlfriend waiting in the car, he was sure you were there to pick your stuff and leave.

“Mase?” you called him nervously, since he wouldn’t move or make any indication of hugging you.

“Are you leaving? I- I didn’t mean it you know, I didn’t mean to be rude with you I was just so tired and angry and I came home after training and you weren’t here and I got so pissed off” his voice was shaky and he didn’t stop talking to breath. “And then I thought we could solve things after the game but you weren’t at the game and I tried to call you so many times and I swear I wanted to go there and talk to you but the gaffer told me I was supposed to come back with the team”

You quickly entered the house so your brother wouldn’t be worried. The last thing you needed was him and Alice wanting to stay — you needed to talk with Mason alone, your family needed this time together.

You circled his waist with one arm, the other holding Luke between you two, and waited for him to hug your shoulders. When Mason calmed down you pulled away just so you could look at him.

“What’s going on?” you asked him, a hand going straight to his cheek. “Are you having panic attacks again?”

Mason shook his head, calmer now that you were inside the house and Matt’s car was gone. Luke stretched out his tiny arms to Mason and you instantly passed him to your husband.

“I thought- I saw Matt’s car parked and I thought you were here to take your stuff” he shyly admitted, his cheeks blushing.

“Oh baby, I would never leave you” you ran your fingers through his hair and your heart tightened when he hugged Luke like his life depended on this.

A lonely tear went down his cheek and you brushed it.

“We’re not going anywhere big boy, you can relax. I think you’re close to suffocating him” you giggled, your heart hurting at how tight he was holding Luke.

“Am I?” Mason’s eyes widened as he pulled his son away, to be sure he wasn’t hurting him.

“Sorry, I was just kidding” you laid your head on your husband’s shoulder. “We missed you so much. I’m so sorry, Mase”

When Luke laid his head on daddy’s other shoulder, your eyes watered.

Since you gave him birth, since he grew inside you even, you could never understand how someone could hurt their own child. You would die and kill for him, and you know Mason feels the same way.

Being a mother like yours turned out to be your biggest fear since you saw the first positive test. Now, each day he grows more you’re sure you could never.

You could never treat him like his opinions and wishes aren’t valid. You could never tell him he can’t simply answer you his point of view no matter what, even when you’re wrong. You could never put yourself first when your son depends on you.

“Believe me, I missed you more. The bed was always cold, every night, and the house is so quiet without Luke, the food doesn’t taste the same, there’s not a single drawing in the bathroom wall and everything looks so lifeless” his voice cracked, and you looked at him to see uncountable tears spilling down his face. “Ever again. You’re not leaving my side ever again”

You nodded, trying to reassure him and ease the panic you could see in his eyes. Hugging his waist, you peppered kisses to his jaw, feeling the salty water on your lips.

“We’re not going anywhere, baby. I swear”

Mason’s sobs caught Luke’s attention, and he looked at his dad with the prettiest face you’ve ever seen, full of confusion.

Your words weren’t enough to stop Mason’s breakdown once he was feeling safe to show you how much the last month affected him and his body started to shake, so you guided him to the couch and sat with your back against the arm so he could lay between your legs.

With Luke sitting on one of your legs and Mason’s head resting on the other, you let your husband cry.

“It’s ok, Mase” you scratched his scalp, trying to soothe him. Your heart physically hurt when he clinged to you, hugging your waist tighter. “I’m here now”

“Sorry” he whispered when you started to brush his tears.

“Don’t feel sorry for being hurt, Masey. You can cry to me whenever you need to, I’m here to protect you too”

“You, protecting me?” he giggled, and you smiled at the sound of it. He got up from your lap and gave you a shy smile, stretching his hands out for Luke who immediately tried to go to him.

“Yeah, it’s your turn to be taken care of” you shrugged, giving your baby boy to him.

“Oh so you’ll take care of me?” Mason gave you a smirk and you rolled your eyes playfully before remembering what you wanted to show him the most.

“Daddy is being a naughty boy, Luke. Tell him to be better, uh? Tell dad to behave”

“Da” Luke babbled, and Mason pinched his chubby cheeks.

“One month alone with mum and you already forgot that I’m your partner in crime?”

“Da-dada” he kept going, and you wish you could get Mason’s reaction tattooed, the way he confused eyes looked at you.

“What the fu-“

“Don’t curse” you giggled, covering his mouth, but Mason could hear the sad tone on your voice. “He said if for the first time last night, we were watching the game and I told him we would see dada soon. He can’t stop anymore I guess”

Mason kissed Luke’s cheek, laughing between sobs when he squirmed, giving little screams.

“You have training today?” you whispered, afraid of ruining the moment but Mason shook his head.

“I’ll call the gaffer to explain” he brushed his fingers through Luke’s face.

“I’ll run his bath then” you told your husband before kissing his head and quickly going upstairs, trying to give them some time alone.

In reality, you feel so bad for separating father and son for an entire month. Seeing Mason’s cry made it hit you how bad your actions hurt him, even intentionally.

Imagining how you would feel if it was the opposite, your heart physically hurt with guilt, how hard this month apart was for Mason and you could feel a few hot tears spilling down your face. Now, you can only hope he won’t hold any grudge against you, despite what you did.

Less than ten minutes later, Mason was entering your shared room and walking straight to the en-suite so he could find you.

“Babe? You can’t leave your boys alone, we don’t know how to take care of ourse- ei, what’s wrong?” he cupped your cheek, and just the warmth of his hand was enough to make you feel better.

“Nothing” you shook your head, drying your face with the back of your hand. “Can you take off his clothes?”

“We’ll talk about it once he’s sleeping” Mason kissed your forehead, squeezing your waist. You nodded, letting him go and undress Luke whilst you chose some toys for your son.

You put the toys in the bath, checking again to be sure the water wasn’t too hot and turning around to Mason.

“Can you bathe him?” you asked him and he instantly nodded, holding your waist before you could leave.

“Go bath in the guest bathroom if you need some time alone, yeah?” he caressed your chin, and your heart pounded even more with how gentle he could be with you even though you hurt him.

Since he seems to know you more than you know yourself, you obeyed. Taking what you’d need, you headed to the guest bathroom and took a warm shower.

You wanted to cry. You wanted to let it all go when Mason and Luke weren't around, but you couldn’t. There was just a whole in your chest, but no tears.

After washing your hair in an attempt to feel freshened and lightened, you wrapped yourself in your robe and came back to your room. Mason wasn’t there, so you imagine he was at Luke’s room putting him to sleep, and not wanting to get in the middle of their father and son time you changed in your pyjamas and tucked in bed.

Half an hour ater you still weren’t able to close your eyes, staring the wall. You’ve heard when your husband entered the room and changed from his trainers, wanting to lay down with you.

“You can go to training if you’re not too late, Mase” you told him softly, not wanting him to get in trouble.

“No way” was his only groaned response, and you sighed when Mason cuddled you seconds later, his arm circling your waist.

Your eyes instantly teared up.

“Go on” Mason kissed your shoulder. “You don’t need to hold it, it’s just us”

“I can’t believe she did this” you tried to tell him without crying, but with every little kiss on your shoulder you could feel the breakdown coming. “Lying would’ve been bad enough but hiding my phone? Not caring that Luke was feeling sick- oh we need to take him to Dr. Linn”

“I’ll take care of it. Keep going” he encouraged you, and you couldn’t understand how he was the one left behind for a month but still so worried about you.

“I don’t know why she wanted me there. The entire month, every day she had something bad to say about me or you, or even Luke. Always leaving to see her friends or get drunk, so in the end I was alone most of the time. She hates me and my family, but she still wanted to keep me around for some reason” your eyes were burning at this point, and Mason’s soft skin against yours made you feel safe enough to finally let the tears spill. “I’m so sorry you had to live an entire month without him”

His hug tightened a bit when you sobbed.

“It’s not your fault. And I lived an entire month without you too, you know? You were missed just as badly”

“It is my fault, Mason. You said it yourself, I chose her over my family and I’m really sorry about it. I want you to spend more time with him, make up for lost time”

Mason pulled away just enough so he could helo turn your body to face his, his hand going straight to cup your chin.

“Y/N, what’s that? I don’t wanna spend hours alone with Luke, even though I love him more than anything. I wanna make up for lost time with my family, not only with half of it. I was angry that night, yeah? I was tired and missing you and I was so pissed you weren’t here when I got back home, I just snapped”

“You had every right to” you murmured, his thumbs never stopping with caressing your face.

“And then the next morning you weren’t answering my calls and when the time came you weren’t at the game like you said you would and I was so scared you had given up on us. So during the night I couldn’t sleep and I realised… I know you, I know you wouldn’t deprive me of my son even though you didn’t want to talk to me yourself, so I panicked. I’m sorry I called Matt, he was my only option”

“Matt and I were good” you smiled at him, and the way his eyebrows raised made you giggle. “I could never give up on us, silly. You’re my everything. Not going to bed with you every night, not making your breakfast every morning… it was the worst month of my life”

“That’s why I gotta give you my attention too, babe. You’re my girl, and Luke knows how to share, you know? He’s not selfish”

“Well, I don’t think I deserve your attention. Look what you had to go through for an entire month” you groaned, but Mason just sighed before placing his forehead against yours.

“You were manipulated, by someone you love a lot. You were worried and wanted nothing more than to help her, and I understand that staying away from me was a consequence of what you needed to do in your head, even tho in reality you didn’t have to do anything. I don’t really like your mum but I love mine, and I know the feeling of being able to do anything for her” he held you tighter. “You don’t need to feel guilty about it”

“Mason, you can’t pretend it’s alright. I lost the most important game of the season. I lost your fucking goal. I should’ve been there to support you and then I should’ve been here to comfort you” you chocked, the guilty feeling eating you alive.

“Babe-”

“It’s not ok! And I’d feel better if you just admit it, let me apologise and forgive me” you tried to breath and calm down. “You lost the first time he called for you and it’s my fault”

“We’ll, I’m listening now. And he can’t stop, isn't it adorable? The tiny human we made. With so much love” he kissed your forehead. “I missed you so much I think I feel like making another one any time”

“Mason!” you gasped, feeling your cheeks getting warm.

“What? The day we made Luke was so hot. A mess, but incredibly hot” he closed his eyes, licking his lips and you had to look away with flaming cheeks. You know exactly the day you got pregnant since it happened in a month you and Mason only got to sleep together once. Mason laid on his back and helped you lay half of your body on top of his. “Fine, baby. Let me hear your apologies”

“I’m really sorry for missing your first goal. You have no idea how awful I feel, because I should be there to celebrate it with you, to scream loud with the fans, to show how proud I was. And I’m sorry I lost the most important game for you. I hope you know I would never do that on purpose, and we wanted to be there for you. But I watched on TV and I’m so proud of you. You did so well with the time you had, and I’m sorry about the general result. You were so pretty though”

“Was I?”

“I’m starting to understand the hair now” you giggled. “It filled my tummy with butterflies”

“Are you sure you don’t wanna make another baby? Because you’re sounding like you do” he teased. “You’re forgiven, princess. And I don’t wanna you beating yourself about it, yeah? I already told you, I understand what happened and how stuck you were. It’s your family, after all”

“No” you shook your head, clinging even more against him. “You are my family. You and Luke”

“And the babygirl we’re gonna make soon?”

“Stop” you groaned, burying your face in his bare chest. “I want another one too”

“Really?” he pouted, and you could never say no to him.

“We could try your girl or start the Mason Mount FC” you hummed, content when he kissed you.

“Perfect” he murmured, lips brushing yours softly. You stared into his eyes, smiling when he raised his eyebrows. “Wanna start trying now? Cause I honestly missed you so much-”

“Shut up” you giggled, relaxing in his embrace. Brushing your nose against his neck, you inhaled the after shave smell and focused on how soft his neck is.

After a few minutes appreciating his warmth, you allowed yourself to sleep deeply, finally in your home. Where you are loved for who you are, not for what you can offer. Where you are wanted and your presence is valid. Where you feel safe.

Not your perfect three store white house, no. Your home. Mason Mount.

#✧･ﾟ: *✧ tsimvkas — works #mason mount x you #mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fluff #mason mount angst #mason mount x reader #mason mount fics

[justauthoring]

puppy love.

requested! -> high school nanami please! the reader gets everything she wants from kento 🤷‍♀️

a/n -> slowly trying to work through all the requests yall have sent me ':)

pairing -> teen!nanami kento x f!reader

shoko.

"kento-kun~!"

the words on the tip of nanami's tongue are left unsaid as his entire body freezes, a involuntary flush coating his cheeks as the sweet sound of you calling his name floods his senses.

shoko who's stood in front of him raises a brow at nanami's reaction, the stunned look on the younger boys face not one she's seen before. her underclassmen is normally so composed that it was hard to get a reaction out of him ever, and yet a simple call of his name from your lips seems to have the boy starstruck.

you bound up to him, all bright smiles and twinkling eyes, slightly breathless as you all but ran to make your way over to your classmate. shoko notices the faint pink dusted across your cheeks as well and her interest is further piqued as she watches you smile all prettily up at nanami, peering at him through your lashes as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"kento-kun," you call again, voice softer but just as sweet now that you've reached him. "are you free right now?"

coughing slightly, shoko notices nanami glances at her out of the corner of his eye, not liking the mischief dancing in her gaze before turning to face you fully. he tries to put off the impression he's annoyed but his gaze remains softened when glancing down at you and the warmth in his gaze is more than obvious to his upperclassman.

"yes." he hums, hand moving to shove in his pocket. "what is it?"

shoko watches as you positively beam, clearly ecstatic at the fact that he was free, hands coming up to clasp in front of you. "would you like to go to this cafe with me?" you ask, head tilted, before reaching for your phone, flipping it open to show off a photo of said new cafe. "yu and i saw it yesterday on our way home from our mission and i think you'd really like it."

the mention of haibara has shoko smirking, clearly noticing the shift in nanami's posture at the mention of his other classmate. something changes in his gaze and shoko has to bite her lips from laughing out loud.

"did you..." and nanami hesitates, looking wildly uncomfortable as he glances at his feet. "did you and haibara go there together yesterday?"

oh, shoko thinks, this was just too good.

nanami? jealous? gojo was going to have a field day with this.

"oh," you blink, momentarily confused before shaking your head. "no. i wanted to go there with you first!"

although he tries to hide it, the pleasure of your words is clear on nanami's face as his entire body eases, no longer tensed as the edges of lips curl upwards just faintly.

shoko snorts.

"okay." he complies, as if the answer would ever be any different. "we can go."

you let out a squeal of excitement, and if it was anyone else, shoko is sure nanami would wince. instead, he watches on with a fond look in his eyes as you start rambling on about how excited you were and what treats you wanted to try all whilst nanami nods, actively listening while letting you lead the conversation.

you wave bye to shoko as you and nanami make your way off the schoolgrounds, and just as you and nanami turn out of view, she sees him shuffle towards you, arms brushing together. she grins when she sees you glance up at him, still beaming, wrapping your hands around his arm and leaning against him, and nanami lets you.

all without complaint.

without hesitation, shoko turns, eyes peeled for a certain white-haired, blind-fold wearing classmate that would love to hear about what she just witnessed.

gojo.

"y/l/n~!"

gojo grins as you turn from your spot at the table to face him, a smile curling on your lips as you wave at your senpai, beckoning him over.

"gojo-senpai," you greet as he reaches the table, "what brings you here?"

gojo smirks as he glances to your left where nanami sits, the two of you having been working on some homework together and registers the rather nasty glare his underclassman was sending him. nanami didn't like him at the best of times, it was true, but there seemed to be an extra edge to his glare that day as gojo took a seat across from you.

"oh, i saw my precious kohai's and i thought i'd come by to say hi," gojo explains with a shrug, playing it off as nonchalant. he feels nanami's gaze narrow at him, obviously expecting there to be more to the story than gojo is letting off.

which is true, of course, but gojo certainly wasn't going to admit to that.

"oh!" you beam, "well, kento-kun was just helping me with my homework." cheeks flushing, you shift in your spot, embarrassed. "i'm not very bright sometimes when it comes to the academic stuff."

"that's not true," nanami cuts in otherwise almost instantly and gojo smirks. "you just need extra time. there's nothing wrong with that."

your cheeks are practically burning at nanami's words, turning to look at your classmate with a doe-eyed expression.

gojo internally laughs. shoko was definitely right.

"hey, y/l/n," gojo calls, pulling your eyes on him as you blink, somewhat dazed, over at him. "i could you help with this stuff, ya know? i am after all your senpai!"

your eyes widen at his offer, obviously not having expected it. gojo was nice enough and he had never been anything but kind with you; maybe a little cocky and he liked to tease, but still nice. he'd never offered to help you with anything school wise though, whether that be training or just homework.

"gojo-senpai, i—"

"that won't be necessary," nanami cuts in, voice sharp. you blink at him in surprise at his sudden change in tone but gojo, having expected it, simply tries to hold back the laugh threatening to burst past his lips.

nanami then turns to you. "don't trust a word this idiot says," he explains to you, and any normal day gojo might be mildly insulted. today though? he's just amused. "he's basically failing everything."

not true, but—

"o-oh," you stammer, eyes flickering nervously between nanami and gojo.

"now, if you'll excuse us," nanami turns back to gojo, glaring at him, "y/n and i need to actually do some work. we can't all just mess around like you."

gojo's eyes flicker to the way you grab onto the sleeve of his shirt, tugging as you mumble worriedly at him, afraid he was actually hurting gojo's feelings. gojo just continues to grin, moving to stand back up as he brushes your concern off.

"no worries, y/l/n," gojo assures, sending you a thumbs up. "have fun, you two. and still, y/l/n, the offer stands."

gojo's running off before nanami can send a slur of insults at him again.

geto.

this was ridiculous, geto realized.

but gojo had begged him and wouldn't shut up until he agreed. so, here he was, standing in front of you, his fingers working to brush a strand of hair behind your ear as you blushed up at him, frazzled and confused, smiling softly down at you as he waited for nanami to make his way down the hall.

he was fully prepared to make gojo suffer for forcing him to do this and the thought that he should've continued to deny, despite how annoying his best friend was, crosses his mind. because now he was not only being forced to do something embarrassing, but to mess around with his underclassmen.

unlike his best friend, geto thought he was a decent role model for the first years. haibara seemed to like him well enough, constantly asking for him to help him train and nanami didn't seem to hate him as much as he hated gojo. and you? you were sweet, too nice for your own good and even geto had to admit, you were rather pretty.

so this? flirting with you when he truly meant nothing by it other than to make nanami jealous? felt incredibly wrong.

"ge-geto-senpai—"

"please, call me suguru," he smiles, internally cringing at himself.

yeah, he was definitely going to make gojo pay for this.

your cheeks burn brighter, "oh, well, i don't—"

"y/n?"

you startle at the sound of nanami's voice, back straightening as you quickly pull yourself out of geto's grasp. geto lets his hands fall by his sides with ease, taking a step back as you rush over to nanami, eyes wide with your hands held out before you desperately.

"kento-kun, what... what are you doing here?"

nanami's eyes flicker to geto, and to his credit, geto tries to offer a small smile in greeting, before he focuses back on you. "looking for you. we were supposed to study together, remember? you were the one who asked in first place."

"oh!" you blink, eyes widening. "yes, sorry, kento-ken. i... we can go now." you send a flustered look back at geto and nanami's eyes narrow, shuffling uncomfortably on the spot.

nanami looks like he wants to argue otherwise, sending a glare at geto that has him wincing (there goes his reputation with the first year). but your hand slipping into his is enough to satiate him, tugging him along with you.

"b-bye, geto-senpai!" you offer faintly to geto, waving at him over your shoulder before grinning brightly up at nanami.

well, it was clear gojo and shoko were right about the two of you but he definitely needed to have a conversation with his friends about not meddling in the first years personal lives.

geto, however, did let a smile curl on his lips when he noticed you'd been very specific about referring to him by his last name, despite his previous words. or the way you'd made sure nanami had heard you refer to him as such.

ah, young love.

haibara.

"are you and y/n dating?"

nanami nearly spits out the water he'd been drinking, feeling the burn of it as some of comes up his nose. he coughs, lowering the water bottle to the table as he tries to gather his bearings. blinking, nanami presses a hand to his chest, before turning to look at haibara with a look of disbelief.

"what?"

haibara, to his credit, looks genuinely confused.

"are you not?" he asks, head tilting. "i just assumed you guys were."

"what—why would you assume that?"

haibara doesn't fail to notice how red his friends cheeks have gotten.

"well, you're always helping her with homework and studying together," he starts off, raising his hand to list off just the few scenarious he's witnessed in the past week alone. "when i ask you for help, you tell me to figure it out myself. and! oh! you guys went to that cafe together the other day and when i asked to stop off somewhere, after a mission not to mention, you told me to go by myself so—"

nanami splutters for a response.

"not to mention," haibara adds, pressing a finger to his chin in thought. "gojo-senpai and shoko-senpai told me you were so—"

"they what?!"

haibara blinks, surprised and confused by nanami's outburst. "yeah? the other day." he hums, nodding. "i went to join you and y/n outside and they pulled me aside, telling me i should leave you two to your date alone... is that not what they meant?"

haibara tilts his head, only then noticing how nanami looks like he's practically about to combust on the spot.

"nanami...?"

pushing himself to a stand, nanami doesn't say anything before he promptly turns and leaves.

stunned and confused, haibara blinks.

"what did i say?"

nanami.

"i need to talk to you."

"oh, kento-kun! what's up?"

truthfully, nanami probably should've taken a moment to think through just exactly what he meant to say to you before all but barging into your room.

he'd been so frazzled and embarrassed that he hadn't really been thinking straight, his feet walking for him until he found himself outside your dorm room. he hadn't even knocked before opening it and oh god, the realization that you could've been... changing crosses his mind as nanami feels himself grow hot from embarrassment.

"kento-kun?" you call out, concerned, as you stand up from your bed. "are you okay?"

he blinks and suddenly you're in front of him. he hadn't even realized you'd been making your way over to him until that moment!

heart pounding, still breathless, nanami meets your gaze, letting his eyes wander across you. before he can stop himself, his eyes lower to your lips, almost involuntarily, and then, with a split second though, he's leaning forward and pressing his lips against your own.

you freeze at the action, body stilling and nanami panics, moving to pull away, but then a second later you're easing into his touch, returning to kiss as your hands move to grip the front of his school uniform. you tug him towards you, holding him in place and nanami practically melts at the spot.

a moment later you pull away, cheeks rosy and breathless, grinning up at nanami.

"i've been waiting for you to do that forever," you confess, breathless.

and nanami's never felt like more of a fool then he does in that moment for waiting so damn long.

yaga.

wordlessly, shoko and gojo stretch their hands out towards their teacher, grinning ear to ear, palms up. geto stands behind them, shaking his head.

"you two are ridiculous." yaga grumbles, "you meddled."

shoko just shrugs; "never said we couldn't meddle."

"besides," gojo snorts. "if anything we helped. who knows how long it would've taken nanami to say something. have you met the boy?"

yaga just rolls his eyes, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #teen nanami #teen nanami x reader

[multifandomgirl08]

Be Something You'll Love and Understand [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Daniel Ricciardo (Platonic)

Summary: He knew that he should have called his mom yesterday but he was still wrapping his head around the idea of being a father.

Warning(s): N/A

A/N: This is set the day after the Prologue.

Title taken from Simple Man originally by Lynyrd Skynyrd covered by Shinedown.

Words: 1.6k

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Max had never felt more sleep-deprived in his life. Even staying up for a 24-hour endurance race had never made him this tired.

Daniel had been at his apartment last night helping him with Nico. He helped Max order formula, clothing, and diapers. Most of it would be delivered today. Both he and Daniel had to look up instructions on how to make the formula out of powder and warm water, and then how to put the bottles together so that Nico could eat.

Right now he was running on less than 8 hours of sleep, and Daniel was sitting on his couch with Nico who was finally asleep after a diaper change and a bottle that he didn’t end up screwing the portion size up.

He pulled his phone out of the front pocket of his pants and dialed his mom. He knew that he should have called her yesterday but he was still wrapping his head around this whole thing.

He let the phone ring in his ear for a few seconds before he heard the dial tone come to an end. “Mum?” He asked.

“Max?” She questioned back. The sound of her voice made some of the tightness in his shoulders go away.

“I… I need your help.”

“What’s going on Max?” He could hear the unmistakable sound of concern in her voice. It was something that he was still growing used to at times after not having remembered much of the time that he got to spend with her when he was a child.

“You remember Amelia?” Max’s eyes fell over the open letter that laid face up on his coffee table. Her scribbled words ran through his head. You’re the best thing for him. He had taken to finally reading it when Nico had managed to fall asleep around 4 am.

“Yes,” She started to say.

“She, she was pregnant when we ended things. I didn’t know, she never told me.” He started with. He was trying his best not to break down into tears. “Mum, she left me the baby.”

Sophie said nothing to him for a few moments before he heard, “Oh Max.”

“I don’t know what to do. Daniel has been helping me since I found out yesterday.”

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” She calmly said. “I’m going to pack a bag, and then I’m going to take the first flight that I can to get over there.”

Max just nodded even though his mother couldn’t see. “Has the baby eaten?” She asked.

“He ate an hour ago, Daniel finally managed to get him to sleep.” Max could hear the distant sound of typing through the phone.

“That’s good. Let him sleep for as long as possible. You and Daniel can take turns with him, and nap in between until I get there.” 

“Mum?” He half asked.

“Yeah, Maxy?”

“Thank you, I love you.” She was dropping everything to fly to Monaco to help him with this. She didn’t have to do it. She could have just stayed home and tried to help him with this from a distance.

“I love you too, I should be there in a couple of hours. My flight should get in by 4, I’ll take a cab so you don’t have to pick me up. Okay?” Max tried to find the clock on the wall and saw he would only have to wait 5 hours until his mother would be here.

“Okay.”

After getting off the phone with Sophie, Max was able to get some sleep. It wasn’t much, he had been awake when Daniel had gone up to his apartment to grab a change of clothes, Max’s eyes started to feel heavy as he was lying on the couch. At some point he woke up, forcing his eyes open to see Nico still on his chest, and the clock read 4:29 pm.

He could hear the sound of keys banging against the front door to his apartment before the door opened fully.

“He’ll be happy to see you.” He heard from Daniel. “He’s out of his element with this.”

He couldn’t hear his mother’s response, but he did see her dark hair from where he was lying on the couch.

“He was still sleeping when I went to let you in.” Max could hear the wheels from what he could only assume was his mother’s suitcase.

“Max?” Sophie asked, looking out into the living room. He tried to move up the couch without moving Nico. As he tried to sit up, Nico let out a disgruntled whimper.

He met the eyes of his mother and could see the shock in her eyes. It was one thing for him to tell her that he had a child but another to see him with a baby swaddled into his chest.

“Hi Mum,” He did his best to move Nico into the crook of his arm. He didn’t want to wake him, but he did want to sit up on the couch.

Sophie made her way over to him leaving her bag by Daniel. She moved to sit next to him before peering into the bundle of blankets to see the little boy sleeping. She said nothing as she looked at Nico.

“Can I hold him?” She asked.

Max didn’t even have to think about moving Nico into her arms. He saw her lean back into the couch and then placed Nico into her arms. He could tell from the look on his mom’s face that she was a little shocked to be holding a baby that he had a part in creating.

In the background, Max heard Daniel mention something about putting Sophie’s bag in the guest room before leaving the two of them in the living room.

“How are you managing?” She asked. Max couldn’t help but slightly shake his head.

“Not well,” If his mother wasn’t holding Nico he would have put his head into her lap. He wanted to tell her what Jos had done, but he also didn’t want more bad blood between his parents. It was only in the last few years after he turned 18 that his parents had finally managed to co-exist with each other peacefully.

“What are you not telling me?” His mother knew him too well.

“Dad…” He tried to start saying, “He knew about Nico. He tried to pay Amelia off so I wouldn’t know about him.”

Sophie said nothing, she just kept rocking Nico in her arms for a few moments.

“Was it because of her… or was it about you racing?” Max knew that she didn’t really have to ask.

“You already know the answer.” He said flatly.

“Well, I’m sure to him he was doing what he thought was right by your career.” Max knew that his mother didn’t have to defend Jos or take his side on things. Was Max horrible for wanting her to tell him that Jos was out of line for making choices for him? Max was 22, he didn’t need his father going behind his back and making choices for him that he didn’t agree with.

“But what about what’s right for him?” Max gestured to Nico.

His mother gave him a soft smile, “Well, as his father. It’s up to you to figure out what you think that’ll be as he grows up.”

Max felt like he could start spilling all of the things that he didn’t want to do as a parent, every possible insecurity that he had, and the concerns about how all of this was going to work in the long run.

Max was grateful that Nico was in Sophie’s arms while the thoughts were running through his mind.

“How’s he doing, sleeping, eating?” Sophie gestured to her arms. Max started to talk about Nico’s odd sleep schedule. Every three hours almost on the clock he needed to either eat or sleep. 

Max talked about the formula mishap, he had given Nico only three ounces, then he was still crying because he was hungry. Max made more but Nico only drank a bit not finishing the rest of the bottle.

When Nico started to get fussy, Max moved to the kitchen assuming that he wanted to eat, but instead, Sophie stuck her nose right up to Nico’s diaper and declared he needed to be changed. Max pulled out the diaper bag that Nico came with, finding the last two diapers left. Sophie had asked for a soft towel since they would be changing Nico on the couch since Max didn’t have a changing table.

Sophie oversaw as Max changed Nico’s diaper, only suggesting to not strap him into it so tight, after all, it was a diaper, not a racing seat with five-point harness. Max got it right leaving a two finger space in the front before snapping the bottom of Nico’s onesie back in place.

“Have you figured out how you are going to manage your schedule and him?” Sophie had asked after Daniel had offered to order all of them dinner.

“Not yet, I thought a nanny for when I am not home but for now, I can take care of him until I have to leave for promo in February.”

“That’s smart,” Daniel said. “Gives you a few months with ‘em before the season.”

Sophie gave Daniel a soft smile.

“I’ll stay with you until you find someone you like.” Sophie was quick to offer.

“Mum, no.” He immediately protested. Victoria just had Luka and his mom should be back in Belgium helping her, not worrying about him.

“I know what you’re thinking, but Victoria has Tom. You need me right now, just until you find a nanny and figure out a schedule for my grandson.” Sophie looked over to the couch where Nico was lying between a few pillows. He was fast asleep for now having just finished a full bottle of formula at the correct portion size.

He wanted to protest again, stating that he could figure it out. Sophie gave him a soft but stern look that he read as, I’m not leaving, deal with it.

Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen

#mini verstappen series #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen imagine #mv1 imagine #mv33 x reader #mv1 x reader #mv33 imagine #mv33 x you #mv1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 fanfic

[fragileheartbeats]

out of all of King Viserys’ children, Rhaenyra is obviously the most qualified/most competent to sit the Iron Throne. There is no question about that.

Excuse me what?😂 Are you fr? If yes can you please give me a reason why she's the most suitable to sit on Iron throne? Because she's rightful heir? I'm sorry but that's not good enough. We have many Targaryen rulers and they were rightful heir, but you know... they fucked up, so it's not a convincing reason.

Actually she was the only one who wasn't suitable to sit on iron throne. Like we literally saw that, she fucked up so bad in half of a year that even her sons didn't denied what she did and literally there's no Rhaenyra after her, she was a disgrace for her future generations, that's says alot.

She was so bad that she was kicked out, people were tired of her. And then Aegon come and gets everything under his control in like a week while he was physical dead.

The funniest part is that all of green kids actually have something that make them more suitable than Rhaenyra.

First we got Aegon, he's brave, resilient, determined, he's smarter than Rhaenyra, he's protective and he's mentally the strongest and unbreakable. He survived the worst things and still continue. He was literally unbreakable, even towards the end of his life he gained the strength to walk, hardly but yes.

Then we have Helaena. She was a lovely and kind woman, she claimed one of the most badass dragons in the history when she was a kid, she was so loved that people literally gone mad after her death, that's say a lot about the difference between Rhaenyra and Helaena.

Next is Aemond. Smart, brave, a dangerous fighter and he have the biggest fucking dragon that he claimed when he was a kid. Do I need to say more?

And finally Daeron. Oh lord, this guy was smart as fuck and he was the most dangerous even though he was the youngest, he's also brave and loyal to his family. And people actually liked him. He was a fairly kind, clever, and humble guy. Definitely the best among Viserys’ sons.

Now what does Rhaenyra have that makes her comparable to them? What does she have that make her better?

Her age? The fact that she's first born?

Well that's just another reason why she don't deserve to sit on the throne, because she was heir since she was 8 yet she never fit into her position as one in so many years (25 years).

On the other hand Aegon never was heir so he never tried to fit but we see how in a short time (2 years or shorter) he grows and fit his position as king, we see how he live up to his title.

I'm sorry but even the fact that she's first born make her more pathetic.

This amount of delusional is not normal. I'm telling y'all.

#house of the dragon #house targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #house of dragons #hotd #aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #hotd x reader #a song of ice and fire #king aegon #aegon the second #aegon ii #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #anti rhaenyra targaryen #anti team black #pro team green #team green #helaena the dreamer #queen helaena #helaena targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #daeron the daring #daeron targaryen #asoiaf #dance of the dragons #anti rhaenyra stans

[sethsclearwater]

okay very random idea but what about paul and reader going to the gym together and reader is doing the leg press/hack squat machine (the one where you push your legs out with weights on the thing your feet are pushing) and reader is like not thinking she can do anymore but paul comes and spots her and it's super fluffy casual dominance of paul just pushing her while also making sure she's safe

i love this😭

...

"paul i can't-" you whimpered, legs bending back into your chest as you struggled to straighten them with the added weights paul had put on.

he let out a breathy laugh, squatting down next to you, "yes you can," he reassured, pressing his lips to your temple for a quick kiss when your frown deepened.

"'s gonna crush me-" you whined, dramatically dropping your head back against the headrest, eliciting another laugh from your imprinter who just shook his head as he stood back up to his full height.

you couldn't help the way you were ogling him as he got back up, suddenly much more concerned with the way his grey sweatpants were hanging low on his waist, the black t-shirt he had on desperately clinging to him like a second skin. it didn't help the way everything outlined his muscles so clearly and you quickly found yourself struggling to focus.

"'m not gonna let it crush you," paul reassured, cupping your jaw so he could pull your attention back to him when he realized you were definitely daydreaming.

as soon as your eyes met his and he was sure you were paying attention, he slid his hands down to your shoulders so he could push you forward and slide down into the seat behind you. as he pulled you back to rest against him in between his legs, you were doing your best not to totally get crushed by the weights slammed against against your shoes.

paul didn't let you struggle for long, coming to rest his feet on the outsides of yours so he could help relieve some of the weight from your legs. you let a heavy sigh of relief, relaxing back into his chest which had him chuckling as he wrapped his arms around you, "just 1 more for me, yea?" he asked, lips curling into a smile when you huffed but gave a small nod.

"there you go," paul encouraged when you stretched your legs back out, struggling a bit as you had nearly fully extended them, "you got it princess," paul reassured, "nice and slow," he added, bringing his feet back up against the machine so he could spot you as you lowered it back down.

as soon as you had brought it back down, you were letting out a rather dramatic sigh of relief and dropping your feet off to the side to give your legs some much needed relief.

paul laughed, sliding his hands down to splay out against your thighs, giving the tender muscles a gentle squeeze, "such a good job," he mused, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

#paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote fluff #paul lahote blurb #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote twilight #the twilight saga #twilight imagine #twilight blurb #imagine #blurb #fluff #casual dominance

[ktaerssoi]

cheering for us

summary: cheering through an oddly hard game for kate.

kate martin x cheerleader!reader

(619)

as soon as first quarter had started you saw kate falter a little, something was off today. she was playing well, yes, but not nearly as well as usual. not only had kate herself realized, but the coaches and commentators as well.

you could tell she was overthinking in her head, she had tried to block someone but ended up almost tripping instead. you knew she wasn't going to have fun talking to the coaches, and really wanted nothing more then to just talk to her and let her know that this game doesn't define her career.

-

at halftime you and the cheer team were to do a routine you guys had been practicing, and you guys had done it quite successfully. Iowa was down by 7, but after the little performance spirit seemed to be high.

before you returned to you spot by the side of the court you had an opportunity to talk to kate. "hey, k, you're doing good okay? this game isn't the end of the world anyway, just relax okay?" she nodded at your words and tried to shake out some tension as she watched you walk away

-

the game had ended with Iowa winning by 12 points, kate scored a 3-pointer in the fourth quarter. you guys were on your way back to your guys' apartment when she brought up her early performance.

"y/n you have to admit i wasn't doing good in the first half," she turned to you for a second, before quickly focusing back on the road. "kate im not going to lie to you and tell you were doing bad." you shook your head, a smile on your face as your arm rested on the inside of the car door.

"but you wouldn't be lying!" kate was smiling, her mood had improved from half time, clearly. "okay well even if you were doing bad, what do you think caused it? reflect on that if you really want to improve."

"so you do think i could improve!" she rolls her eyes as we pull into the complex building's car park. "but i think it was probably you and that other girl on the cheerleading team." you narrow your eyes, confused what she meant.

"what other girl?" you asked as you guys rounded the back of the car to grab your bags from the trunk and bring your stuff upstairs. "the one with the blonde hair, you were like, dying laughing at something she said. i was jealous." she shrugged, and you were a little stunned.

"kate, babe, that girl was telling me about some story about her boyfriend. trust me we are not like that." you smile a little as the tips of her ears go red with embarrassment. "oh,"

-

the two of you were on the couch watching some sports thing, your head resting on kate's shoulder as you read a book.

a commercial break comes on, and kate lets out a little sigh, shifting under you. "can we talk about how good that halftime routine was? seriously, you looked so good babe." you smiled a little, trying to hide your flustered state.

you put you book down, moving over even more, trying to get as close as possible. "you looked pretty good out there two k, i mean seriously, i was struggling to focus." you smirked as you saw her face goes pinkish again, you sit up a little, kissing her cheek quickly.

"you seriously need to get a headband or something, those flyaways are not flattering." you smile, leaning back as you listen to kate's defense for why she can't wear a headband for the 37th time.

"it messes up the look"

okay caht its offical, i hate everything i write and im quitting 🥰🥰 jk i wish..actually though i suck at writing for requests like this is actually SO FLIPPING BAD IM SOBBING. its also 3pm and the brownies r bomb. anyway, not proofreade dont come for me! also this was weird to write because my name is - kate (see what i did?)

#wcbb #caitlin clark #paige bueckers #kate martin #kate martin x reader #iowa hawkeyes #iowa wbb #i love kate martin #wlw

[neptunesbbby]

Neteyam as your best friend

Tags (CW): Neteyam Sully x Fem!Reader, SFW, aged-up (16+), best friends, best friends to lovers, wholesome, sweet, tooth-rotting fluff, Neteyam as your best friend, reader can be na’vi or human.

Synopsis: How I think Neteyam would be as your best friend.

Word count: 800

Glossary: Kenten (fan lizard), Ma’ite (my daughter), Sa’nu (mom), Skxawng (moron, idiot), Syulang (flower).

A/N: Just thought I’d show Neteyam a little love as well! <3 Sorry for any spelling or grammar errors!

Best friend!Neteyam who has literally been attached to your hip since the day he met you.

Best friend!Neteyam who, when you two were little, couldn’t go a day without talking to you or else he’d lose his mind, and drive his parents crazy until he did.

Best friend!Neteyam who loves to spend all his time with you. No matter if he’s training, going on a hunting trip, or running an errand, he was going to bring you with him.

“Neteyam, could you go out and get these herbs for your grandmother? She needs it for when the war party comes back.”

“Can Y/N come?”

“…Yes, son. Yes, she can.”

Best friend!Neteyam who is the model Sully child, except for when it comes to you.

Best friend!Neteyam who, much to his parents’ surprise, breaks his curfew occasionally just so that he can keep hanging out with you.

“Neteyam we have to go, the eclipse is starting soon. Our parents will skin us!”

“Let’s just stay out here a little bit longer. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

“… Who are you and what have you done with Neteyam?”

Best friend!Neteyam who is lowkey extremely protective of you.

Best friend!Neteyam who has always been your mighty warrior, even saving you from a fierce, “fire-breathing kenten” once when you two were just five.

“Ahhh, Neteyam help! What should I do? The mighty kenten is going to get me!”

“Don’t worry, Syulang! I’ll save you!”

Best friend!Neteyam who would (quite literally) take a bullet for you if he had to.

Best friend!Neteyam who teaches you how to fight and use a gun as soon as he learns from his dad that the humans are returning.

Best friend!Neteyam who glares at almost every guy that gets too comfortable with you when you two are older, almost intentionally being the reason why you’ve gone your whole life without actually receiving a proposal.

Best friend!Neteyam who is convinced that no one is good enough for you, (no one but him) and is determined to make you see that as well.

“I’m telling you, Y/N. Kan’ilu is no good. The skxawng can’t even hold his bow right.”

“You say that about everyone, ma Neteyam…”

Best friend!Neteyam who loves to tease you.

Best friend!Neteyam who loves to call you things like “love,” “honey,” and “darling” because he knows how flustered it gets you.

Best friend!Neteyam who’s love languages are touch and words of affirmation.

Best friend!Neteyam who lets you rebraid and oil his hair whenever it needs a little bit of refreshing.

Best friend!Neteyam who lies to you during training and tells you that your form isn’t correct even when it is, just so that he can “adjust your posture”. (He can’t keep his hands off of you.)

“No, ma Y/N. Your arm should be more like… this.”

“Neteyam, this is literally where I had it before.”

Best friend!Neteyam who has a surprisingly dirty mind to say he’s the most respectful Sully sibling.

Best friend!Neteyam who would sneak glances at the way your new top falls over your “chest” while you aren’t paying attention.

Best friend!Neteyam who rarely ever gets caught looking too long until Kiri catches him “counting” the stripes going down your back one day and decides to let him have it.

“Ow, Kiri..! What was that for?”

“Stop staring, Skxawng…”

Best friend!Neteyam who always acts like the model boyfriend around you, and makes sure that you take notice too.

Best friend!Neteyam who takes you out on mini dates to the floating mountains when you two just need a break from everything and escape from it all.

Best friend!Neteyam who is absolutely adored by your friends and family, your loved ones always teasing you, asking you when the two of you are finally gonna “make it official.”

“So… Ma’ite… Have you and Neteyam finally—“

“Sa’nu!”

Best friend!Neteyam who loves when you and his family are interacting with each other.

Best friend!Neteyam who would see you being playful with Tuk and immediately start picturing you and his life together.

Best friend!Neteyam who would still be too nervous to make the first move right away, even if the two of you were practically already dating.

Best friend!Neteyam who vents to his brother Lo’ak about everything and asks him for his advice on how to ask you out.

“Bro, what if I mess everything up? What do I even say? What if she doesn’t see me that way?”

“…You have got to be kidding me.”

Best friend!Neteyam who would go out of his way to make sure everything goes perfect when he does decide to ask you out.

Best friend!Neteyam who is made the happiest man on Pandora when you naturally say yes. <3

©️neptunesbbby 2024 || please do not steal, republish, repost (reblogs are fine), modify, translate or claim any of my works as your own on here or any other platforms, thank you!

#avatar the way of water #atwow #atwow neteyam #neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam headcanons #neteyam x you #neteyam x fem!reader #neteyam avatar #neteyam fluff

[peaches2217]

There’s a door on the right wall of Peach and Mario’s bedroom, just a few meters from the entryway. It’s an entirely unremarkable door, really; it matches the doors to both the private chambers and the restroom, white with gold trimmings and a polished brass doorknob. Such a door normally wouldn’t give Peach any pause whatsoever.

There is, however, one strange thing about this door in particular: it wasn’t there this morning.

She repeatedly looks from the door to her husband, who’s casually unlacing his boots by the dresser. The door to her husband, who’s rummaging through the third drawer down. The door back to her husband, who’s unhooking his overalls and kicking them onto the plush carpet floor. If he’s aware of this anomaly in an otherwise familiar setting, he’s not showing it.

“Mario.”

Mario hums lazily, not even looking at her as he pulls on his softest, most worn nightshirt, its red cotton faded and fraying. Peach is almost certain she’s dreaming right now. She was so certain she had been awake just minutes ago, laughing with friends and family over dinner, cheerfully accompanying her husband to bed after a long and eventful day of baby shopping with her best friend (though it's still a bit early to be buying any clothes, she’d tried saying a few times, statements that Daisy had immediately brushed off). But everything suddenly feels far too… off.

“What is that?” she finally chances, gesturing to the alien door. Mario finishes peeling off his socks and gloves before looking to where she’s gesturing, regarding it with all the mundanity he might regard any other door.

“It’s a door,” he answers easily, giving her a patented I have no clue what you’re getting at but I love you and cherish the words that come from your mouth anyway grin.

Peach sucks in an uneasy breath. Maybe this is that Pregnancy Brain thing she’s read about? Perhaps her memories are being rearranged, her senses tricked? Toadessa did warn her that she might become increasingly forgetful as the months progressed. It’s a more logical explanation than any other she can conjure up. If something were truly amiss, then surely Mario would notice too. Right?

“I… don’t remember it being there this morning,” she confesses, a blush creeping into her cheeks. She remembers, or at least thinks she remembers, that there was once a small storage unit just behind that door, filled with old broken halberds and spears and other assorted equipment that was too valuable to trash but too broken to repair. Yes, she remembers it now with greater confidence; she had been terrified of that dark, cluttered room, unable to sleep for fear of whatever monsters might be lurking within, and so Toadsworth had ordered it sealed when she was age seven or so.

Or maybe he hadn’t?

Mario chuckles, and though the corners of his eyes crease in good humor and his smile is filled with warmth, her face burns hotter still. “Fog’s already setting in, huh?” He taps a finger to his temple to hammer home what he’s implying, and though Peach knows his words hold no malice, the teasing still fans an unpleasant flame in her chest; she can’t help but cross arms in front of her and huff, half in hopes of exhaling that flame, half to make her displeasure known.

Suddenly Mario’s face reads a bit less amused and a bit more ashamed, and that just makes her feel even worse.

“No,” he croons, approaching her with his hands loosely extended, “tesoro mio, I’m so sorry. That was mean.” His tone doesn’t quite match his words. He’s clearly sorry to have provoked such a reaction, Peach doesn’t doubt his sincerity there, but there’s nevertheless a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, like there’s still something terribly amusing about her predicament.

So this is the thanks I get for carrying your child, she considers pouting, but something in Mario’s eyes sparkles so brightly that she feels her annoyance melting away, like an icicle brought into the sunlight. Damn him. She sighs and unfolds her arms to take his hands; for her silent pardon, he brings her knuckles to his lips and kisses them one by one, and suddenly she’s overcome with the urge to giggle like a lovestruck schoolgirl.

She resists, if only to spite him one last time, then she lets the grudge slide from her shoulders.

“You know,” Mario says once he’s done with his ministrations, his thumbs rubbing little circles into the backs of her hands, “I don’t have any right to poke fun. I don’t even remember what’s behind that door, either.”

Peach blinks. No, okay, now she knows she’s dreaming. This entire scenario is making less and less sense by the moment.

But before she can pinch herself awake, Mario’s guiding her towards the unfamiliar door, letting go of her hands and drifting behind her. Almost like he’s pushing her forward, she feels.

“Maybe we should check it out,” he suggests all too innocently, and if not for the way he lingers behind her, she might not find the suggestion too strange. But Mario always insists on taking the lead any time there’s unfamiliar terrain to be trekked. He would never let her be the first in the line of fire, no matter how mundane said terrain might appear on the surface, especially not in her present condition.

Unless, of course, he knows what she's stepping into.

Staring at the white and gold door, reason begins to resettle in Peach’s head. How had he known she was referring specifically to the door itself? If she were to gesture to the bathroom door and say "What is that?", he wouldn’t say “That’s a door,” he would say “That’s the bathroom.” 

She’s not dreaming, nor is she going crazy. There is definitely something going on. Some sort of conspiracy that he’s in on and she’s not.

Unaccustomed to being left in the dark by her own husband, she grasps the doorknob, takes a breath, opens the door… and gasps.

The room behind the door is, in fact, the room she remembers, or is at least roughly the same size. But where she remembers dingy hardwood, there’s now carpet, luxuriously plush like the carpet in the bedroom. The sterile gray walls that once spooked her are now a soft and lovely blue, decorated with empty floating shelves and cheerful paintings of Biddybuds and Fire Flowers and scenes from familiar mushroom forests.

There's no trace of the broken weapons that once littered the room. There's instead a dresser flush to the wall, and a tall table of some sort, and a small chest in the opposite corner... and in the center of the room, on a round and ornate rug, are two pieces of furniture on smooth, curved rockers. One is a chair, adult human-sized; the other is much smaller, a horizontal hollow contained within smooth, round bars. A crib.

“Oh yeah,” Mario chimes in somewhere behind her, “now I remember! I knew there was a reason I asked Daisy to keep you out of the castle today.”

His words slowly sink in as Peach approaches the rocking chair, reaching out to brush her fingers over the dark red wood. Cedar. The whole room is filled with the dry and resinous aroma of fresh cedar, a scent she typically associates with the workshop in the castle's western wing. The workshop where Mario tinkers with metal and wood whenever he tires of royal monotony and needs to keep his hands occupied.

The workshop that's been suspiciously locked every time she's approached it the past couple of months, even when she could hear saws cutting through raw materials and the tap-tap-tap of chisels in experienced hands within.

All pretense is gone. When she turns back to Mario, she finds him bristling with pride, that teasing smile wider than before.

"You did this?" She looks back to the chair, fastened with fluffy pink silk cushions, and the crib, a matching cushion tied to its bars and emblazoned with the royal mushroom emblem on its headboard, an emblem that's been carved into the chest a few steps away as well. Something in her throat feels impossibly tight. "All of this?"

Mario finally leaves the doorway, his hand brushing against her back as he steps past her. "Well, not all of it, no. Just the furniture." He taps his right foot a few times against the statement rug beneath their feet. "Weeg handled the layout and the decorations and the swatches and all that fancy stuff. He's got a better eye for that sorta thing! Then he helped me get everything moved in and set up and the door re-installed while you and Daisy were out shopping. Of course Toadsworth's the one who told me about this little room in the first place, so he helped us get it unsealed, and Daisy—" He laughs now, scratching the back of his neck. “Actually, she wasn’t even part of it originally! She just barged in one day — I had the door locked, Peachy, but she just waltzed right on in! I don’t know if she had a key or if she just forced it open with her bare hands — and she said the only way she’d keep quiet was if she got to be involved and take credit for her part in the whole ordeal, so that’s how that happened, and—”

His face grows darker as he prattles on, until at last he’s forced to take in a sharp gasp, his color returning to normal as oxygen once more fills his lungs. “But! The rest of it! Yeah, that was all me! Looky here—” His fingers curl around the bars of the crib, giving it a few demonstrative rocks. “Remember that night you called me into the bathroom and I thought you were hurt and I panicked but actually you were just excited because you could finally see a little baby bump in the mirror? I couldn’t sleep at all that night because suddenly it all felt so real, so I spent the whole next day making this! 

“And then I thought, ‘Well, we’ve got a place for them to sleep, but where are we gonna change their diapers? And where are we gonna put all the diapers and wipes and all that good stuff anyway?’ And that’s how I got started on that one!” He darts now to the table against the wall, gesticulating around it with the enthusiasm of a used kart salesman. “Perfect little platform, plenty of storage space, I’ve been thinking about making a mobile to put over it too in case she gets fussy, because the last thing we need is a dirty diaper and a fussy baby, right? And then—”

And this continues on for a good few minutes, Mario darting around the room to show off each hand-crafted piece of their new nursery. The dresser to store non-diapers, things like blankets and onesies and a few changes of clothes for both of them because babies are messy and ruined clothes are inevitable, and the chest to store everything else, like toys — he throws the lid open and shows Peach a few delicately carved wooden blocks and dolls, because what's a toy chest without any toys?

The information comes at Peach too quickly to absorb any of it, because an excitable Mario is a Mario at full steam that won’t stop for anything or anyone, so she blindly follows him, brushing her fingers against each piece’s cool cedar, examining the smooth-gliding drawers, dragging her thumb nail over the ridges in each toy she’s handed.

“And then the bookshelf! I’m… still working on that one.” He scratches his neck again with a nervous chuckle. “But I couldn’t wait any longer! Gimme a few days and it’ll go in that corner right over there. Weegee’s already got a whole library lined up for her, so we should have enough books to last us a while at least. And then I was thinking we could put some flowers and vases on the shelves, maybe? So they look sad and empty now, but pretty soon they’ll…”

Peach dutifully admires one such shelf on the wall, right next to a painting of a Fire Flower field in full bloom. Yes, a live Fire Flower on the adjacent shelf to compliment the painting. It’s certainly a good idea. She’s so caught up in the automatic thought process that, as soon as it runs its course, she turns to take on whatever bit of information Mario throws at her next, effortless and thoughtless.

Only then does she realize he’s gone silent.

“...You okay, Peachy?” Suddenly there’s no bravado in his voice. It’s softer, gentler, quieter. He closes their distance and takes her hands in his, warm and strong. “Sorry, I… I know this is a lot. Of course, if there’s any part of it you don’t like, you can tell me! You know I won’t take it personally. Well, not too personally.” He couples this statement with a playful wink.

Another automatic thought crosses Peach’s mind: how could she ever criticize any of this? He’s made an entire nursery with his own two hands for their child. She could never…

And for the first time since she opened that strange new door, it hits Peach. Not in words, but in images: Mario in his workshop, wiping sweat and sawdust from his forehead as he consults his blueprints, making certain his vision is coming to life exactly as he’s planned. Mario crammed into a booth at Tayce T.’s with his brother, thick brows knit in confusion as Luigi gives him a crash course on color theory and interior design. Mario in a football-style huddle with Peach’s steward and brother-in-law and best friend, giving everyone their roles sometime late last night or early this morning while she still lay blissfully unaware in bed.

Mario kneeling beside the completed crib, rocking it a few times with a peaceful smile, staring down at the plush pink cushion and imagining a little blonde or brunette bundle of blankets sleeping soundly within.

The stagnant tightness in Peach’s throat erupts in the form of a sob, a rush of raw hormones heightening her every emotion until it almost hurts, and once she starts, it’s impossible to stop.

“Ah— Peachy—!” She hears Mario offer a few uncertain words of comfort beneath her shrill breathing, and he starts to pull her in some equally uncertain direction (uncertain to her, anyway, because her tears are falling too hard and too fast to make out anything other than abstract shapes). She lets him guide her steps, until suddenly he hoists her into his arms and lowers both of them. He’s settled in the rocking chair, she realizes from the way they both jolt as he adjusts her in his lap.

Her belly is larger now than it was the night she called him into the bathroom, though not so large that she can’t wrap her arms around him and hold him tightly, burying her face into the crown of his head. Even his hair smells of cedar, a fine dust that tickles her nose, and laughter bubbles in her chest alongside the tears.

“You’re amazing,” she manages to choke out. Her Mario, her thoughtful Mario, her hard-working and mind-bendingly devoted Mario. He cradles her, his left hand against her outer thigh, his opposite arm supporting her back, his right hand stroking the side of her belly ever so gently.

“So,” he says into her chest, and she can feel him smile against her, “does this, uh, does this make up for the teasing earlier?”

Peach sniffles and laughs again, drawing him in closer. Even if she hasn’t forgiven him (which she has, she’d like to believe she’s not that petty), she supposes drenching his hair with tears and mucus is payback enough. Maybe they can shower together tonight. Maybe she can wash his hair, and he’ll press kisses to her sternum the whole time, like he always does.

Though for now, she’s equally content to remain right where she’s at, secure in his arms in this cozy little nursery, their baby nestled safely between their bodies. It’ll still be a few more months before this space is put to proper use, after all. What’s the rush?

#well! this was corny even for me #but I enjoyed writing it so you won't be hearing any apologies from me. 😆 #I love the thought that mario simply Cannot Shut Up when he’s excited so this is my propaganda as well #bonus points if you remember the post this was based off of! it was from december I think? #super mario bros #smb #mario #princess peach #mario x peach #mareach #peaches' fancy fics #tw pregnancy

[moonlightndaydreams]

hey ml, i love your work so so sooo much so i thought i’d send a request!! Could you do a fem reader x chan or lee know where reader is very shy and she unconsciously plays with his happy trail? (leads into smut)

@ihrtlix 😘 Naww thanks so much! I’m so happy you’ve been enjoying my little fics! What a wonderful request 🤗 (I’m baby clapping over here). I ended up choosing Chan because I don’t think I’ve written him for a long time (outside of 3Racha and group stuff). I hope you enjoy xxx.

CW: size kink, stretch kink, blowjob, fingering, orgasms, surprise daddy kink, reader is a virgin.

🫠🫠🫠🫠

“Something on your mind babygirl?” Chan stroked your shoulder. “You seem like you want to say something.”

You and your new boyfriend Chan were laying on his bed watching a movie on his wall mounted tv.

He was topless and only wearing thin sweatpants, the type that doesn’t hide anything.

You’d notice he’d been shamelessly hard for the past fifteen minutes. The same amount of time you’d been absentmindedly been playing with his happy trail.

You weren’t sure if your touch was what was keeping him hard, but all you knew is that you wanted to see, to touch him, there.

You bit your lip. “Channie?” You say timidly.

“Babygirl. Talk to me. You can tell me absolutely anything.” He kissed your cheek.

Your shaky hand moved closer to his waistband and you swallowed nervously.

“You want to see what you do to me, hmm?” He smirked. Your cheeks reddened.

He shimmied his sweatpants down, revealing his very hard, very large cock. Your eyes widened. It was thick and heavy, leaking, and laid against his taut abs. It had obscenely prominent veins and an angry leaking tip.

It’s too big. How will that ever fit inside you. You were a virgin. He’s going to split you apart.

Yet your mouth watered at the sight of him, and your pussy clenched at the thought of him making it fit into your tight little virgin hole.

“You can touch it if you want. Taste it, even.” Chan encouraged you, stroking your back softly.

Your eyes snapped up to his. “He won’t bite.” He chuckled softly. His eyes were soft and encouraging, not a hint of expectation for you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with.

You kneeled beside Chan and wrapped your hand around his cock near the base. Chan hissed through his teeth, and more precum oozed from the tip.

You’d been so nervous to make a first move, but now that you had him in your hand you felt an urge to please him. You wanted to do good. You wanted to show him that you’d thought about doing this for weeks.

You licked the precum from the tip. Chan whimpered. Then you took your mouth to the bottom of the shaft and licked the underside of his cock from base to top. Chan groaned this time.

“Babygirl! Have you done this before?” He asked, surprised by your methods.

“I might be a virgin, but I’ve done this lots.”

“Lots?” He sat up and looked at you shocked.

“Well… I had this guy friend, Jisung. I used to practice on him.” You said like it was no big deal. And it wasn’t. He was just a childhood friend, that when you became teenagers let you practice sucking his cock.

“He wasn’t as big as you.” You added and began to sink your mouth down over his cock.

Chan flopped back on the bed.

“Your mouth feels so fucking good, babygirl.” He moaned as his eyes rolled back in his head. You spent the next five minutes giving Chan your everything. Taking in as much you could. Using your hand to give a little twist on the upstroke, you didn’t forget his balls either.

Chan wasn’t a quiet guy. He moaned loudly, cursing constantly, sometimes he’d make a high pitched wine. It made you so wet. Would he sound like if you were to ride him in the future?

You felt his hand caress the back of your thigh.

“Babygirl, can I cum on your pussy?” He panted. “Please? It’d look so hot.” He rocked his hips, sending his thick cock further into your throat.

You popped off just long enough to answer “yes” then sunk down as far as you possible could. You used your hand to squeeze and stroke what couldn’t fit.

“That’s is… that’s it.. fuck…yes… okay quick! On your back.”

He swiftly laid you on your back and pulled your shorts and soaked panties off.

He knelt between you legs and pushed the tip of his cock up and down through your glistening labia while he pumped his length. You whimpered as your cunt begged you to ask him to put it inside.

“Fuck!” He cried out. With his eyebrows furrowed, he spurted ropes of cum all over the your pussy.

You propped yourself up on your elbows to see what mess he’d made. There was so much.

Chan took his finger to your pussy, smearing his cum all over your clit and down to your entrance.

“Babygirl.” He said as he rubbed your swollen clit. “Did this Jisung ever put his fingers inside you?”

You shook your head. “Only mine have been in there.”

Chan raised an eyebrow. “And how many fingers does Babygirl fuck herself with?” He purred.

“Three!” You panted.

“Three? So two of mine should be fine then?” He concluded.

He scooped up as much cum and your arousal on his middle and index finger as he could and pressed them inside your tight heat.

You whimpered at the stretch.

“That’s it. I know it’s a big stretch. Channie’s got you, yeah? Relax for me”

He finger fucked you gently, watching your reactions. When you were crying and babbling incoherently, he curled his fingers to dig into your sweet spot. You automatically started your rock your hips, seeking more. More friction, more intensity. Your fingers flung to your clit. You were about to break. You needed to cum.

“That’s it, babygirl. Cum for me. Cum for daddy.”

Daddy? Oh god that sent you over the edge. You cried out as your walls pulsed around Chan’s fingers. He helped you through it until the overstimulation was too much, and he withdrew them and held you close as you quivered from the intensity of your release.

After a few minutes, Chan ran you a bath and helped you clean up before snuggling in next to you in bed.

“Channie?” You said softly.

“Yes babygirl.”

“Next time I want you inside me.” You felt your cheeks go red and you were grateful the lights were off.

“I’m sure that can be arranged.” He smiled to himself.

@channieandhisgoonsquad @itshannjisung @noellllslut @kangnina @weareapackofstrays @chansbabyg

#chan smut #sorsha ask box #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut

[buckttommy]

jack 👉👈 how do you picture their second kiss? does buck initiate it? also do you have any general lil headcanons you feel like sharing? 👉👈💞

for u, my little meerkat?? anything.

so. their second kiss. their second kiss. hmmmm. i think their second kiss is a lot more hesitant than their first kiss, like. they actually know what they are to each other now. like, their first kiss, i think, kind of came as a surprise to both of them, but this one? this one means something. they're both jumping in head-first with this kiss. so. they're hesitant, not because they're afraid but because they're exploring what it means to be this close, to feel this connected to each other. their bodies are pressed together, they're dancing (swaying) to the tune of whatever's spilling through the hospital speakers (maddie and chimney are going to get married in hospital, mark my words) and. like. neither of them smell the greatest because *gestures wildly at the bachelor party* and whatever goes on afterwards, so they haven't had time to shower. but. they're close. this is their moment. no one that they loved or cared about died and life is kind of very fucking beautiful right now.

so. their noses are brushing. their breaths are caught in their throats. and, this close, buck can see every line in tommy's face and tommy can see every one of buck's acne scars and they both think that the other has never looked so fucking perfect, so fucking beautiful as they do right now. and when their mouths meet, neither of them are surprised by how much it feels like coming home. and it shouldn't, right, like. after two dates, one ending in complete disaster, being together like this, kissing like this shouldn't feel so safe, so warm, so comforting. but it does. and they're both in SO much deeper than they ever could have imagined. none of this has gone the way either of them thought it would when chim called tommy out of the blue. but. they're here now. they're here now and everything is so good. so good that they can't imagine ever wanting to be anywhere else than right with each other and one day, after they get married, they won't have to

+ bonus headcanon just for u: lately i've been feeling particularly soft about clothes sharing and so, like, one day tommy gets hurt on the job. buck sits vigil by his bedside, of course, and. every time one of his family sees him, he's in one of tommy's jackets. or if he's not wearing one of his jackets, he's wearing one of his pairs of sweatpants, or one of his pairs of jeans, or something. sometimes the whole damn outfit is tommy's from the shirt down to the boots (cos they're roughly the same size) and. it's a little tragic. you know? it's a little tragic and a lot sad because the pants are always a little too long and the jackets are always a little too big and the clothes so clearly do not belong to him. but no one says anything. i mean, how could they? neither tommy nor buck has said anything to suggest as much, but everyone sees them when they're together. everyone sees the way they touch each other, the way they kiss, the way they interact, and they're all pretty damn sure that tommy and buck are the loves of each other's lives. so when maddie comes to sit beside him and she takes his hand in hers and leans her head on his shoulder, she doesn't make a comment about how the sleeves of tommy's jacket are pulled over buck's hands so he can rest his chin on his fist and smell the lingering scent of detergent and cologne and tommy. and like. yes it's a little sad but i just love the idea of buck finding comfort in the way his boyfriend smells and the way his clothes fit even when he's not "around."

and of course when tommy wakes up, buck offhandedly mentions that he was practically living in his clothes because he truly has no idea how deeply that knowledge just... rocks tommy to the core because, like. he's never been loved so... desperately, so earnestly before. but buck, evan, loves him like that. so after his near-death experience, he goes out and buys a shit-load of jackets and hoodies and pants and whatever and wears the hell out of them. he makes sure his clothes are always covered in his signature cologne, makes sure he "accidentally" leaves a bunch of his clothes at buck's loft just in case and. it's not much. you know? and it kind of feels like jinxing something because tommy intends to love this man for the rest of his life and he intends to live for a long time. but. it's something. he loves him and he wants evan to have a piece of him always. even if he doesn't have him. anyways yeah i'll fucking cry about it.

#SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #tv: 911 #jack answers mail #bucktommy

[mclennonlgbt]

John and Paul commenting on each other's appearance

John about Paul

I was very impressed by Paul playing “Twenty Flight Rock”. He could obviously play the guitar. I half thought to myself – he’s as good as me. I’d been kingpin up to then. Now, I thought, if I take him on, what will happen? It went through my head that I’d have to keep him in line, if I let him join. But he was good, so he was worth having. He also looked like Elvis. I dug him. (Hunter Davies’ The Beatles: The Authorised Biography (1968))

John: It [topless swimsuit/topless frock] sounds like a vaguely good idea but I wouldn’t have my wife or any friends wearing them.

Paul: Well, you’ve got us wearing them.

John: I know, Paulie, you’re so well-built!

3. John (Thisbe) talking about Paul's (Pyramus') appearance during "Midsummer's Night Dream" rehearsal: Dead, dead. A tomb must cover thy sweet eyes! These lily lips... His cherry nose. He's Cherry Wainer. His yellow cowslip cheeks!

4.

(although I also know the version that it was during the making of the movie Help!)

5. A pretty face may last a year or two/ But pretty soon they'll see what you can do (How Do You Sleep? (1971))

(Side note: I know that in this case John tried to discredit Paul by claiming that he only had a "pretty face" and nothing more to be proud of. It doesn't change the fact that he probably thought Paul was hot, too)

6. At one stage I went out, and when I came back he was talking to this woman and he said “She said, ‘I thought he was Paul, meaning McCartney.’” So John turns around and says, “No, he’s prettier than Pauly. He’s got a nicer mouth than Pauly. Pauly’s got a small mouth.”  (Tony Manero on meeting John Lennon in 1974, in Glass Onion by Geoffrey Giuliano (1999))

Paul about John

"I remember John looking..hmm.. we used to think that John looked pretty cool. He was a bit older than us and he would do a little more greased back hair than we were allowed… so John was quite groovy. He looked like a ted then - he had a drape. He had nice big sideburns." 

"Ah yes, I remember it well. My memory of meeting John for the first time is very clear [...] I can still see John now: checked shirt, slightly curly hair, singing ‘Come Go With Me’ by the Del Vikings. I remember thinking, ‘He looks good – I wouldn’t mind being in a group with him’. A bit later we met up. [...] Then, as you all know, he asked me to join the group, and so we began our trip together. We wrote our first songs together, we grew up together and we lived our lives together.”

"I’d seen him a couple of times [before the fete] and thought, ‘Wow, you know, he’s an interesting looking guy.’ And then I once also saw him in a queue for fish and chips and I said, ‘Oh, that’s that guy off the bus’. I’m talking to myself, in my mind I thought, ‘I saw that guy off the bus, oh he’s pretty cool looking. Yeah, you know, he’s a cool guy.’ I knew nothing about him except that he looked pretty cool. He had long sideboards and greased back hair and everything. [...] This ted would get on the bus, and I wouldn't stare at him too hard in case he hit me." (1997)

Paul: Nobody was remotely interested in this idea of I wrote songs until I met John! I said: I’ve written a few songs. And he said: Oh, so have I! So it was like… someone was interested at last. And I’d seen him around Liverpool, he’d got on a bus once and I said: Woah, look at this guy! At the big sideboards, you know, the hair swept back. I thought: He’s got something going. 

Howard Stern: Good look.

Paul: Yeah, he definitely had a look! (2020)

5. “I used to do caricatures of John. He was the only person I knew with an aquiline nose. When I painted him recently, I found myself saying: 'How did his lips go? I can't remember.' Then I would think: 'Of course you know, you wrote all those songs facing each other.'”

6. “If I'm going to see a face in a painting, it's highly likely to be his.”

7. “And I would often sketch John when we worked together, often without him knowing it. It was so easy doing John because he had glasses, those sideboards – what you call sideburns – and that long, aquiline nose.”

8. "I would often sketch John when we worked together, often without him knowing it. It was so easy doing John because he had glasses, those sideboards –or sideburns – and that long, aquiline nose.”

Source of quotes 5,6,7,8: https://www.tumblr.com/undying-love/748219983302098944/paul-mentioned-that-john-was-often-the-subject-of?source=share

9. “A young boy's bedroom is such a comfortable place, like my son's bedroom is now; he's got all his stuff that he needs: a candle, guitar, a book. John's room was very like that. James reminds me very much of John in many ways: he's got beautiful hands. John had beautiful hands." (Barry Miles, Many Years From Now (1997))

10. “But I don’t have any regrets, we were good friends when he died so… that’s something. And he was a beautiful boy!”

11. “Beautiful boy, beautiful memories…”

 12. “So I loved him dearly. He was a very beautiful man.”

Thanks to @undying-love, they had a lot of useful quotes!

Pls add more quotes if you know any.

#mclennon #mclennon is real #gay #bisexual

[moneymartin]

・❥・- one more?

summary: kate comes home tired and needy :( part two to this fic. build up drabble to part three

warnings: none! fluff cause its kate :3 this is kinda shorter than the last one soz. again, every divider is a skip. most are constant cuz im lazy. didn’t know how to end oops!!!

rpf dont read it if ur uncomfy thx

a/n: all yjs reqs r still itw soooo they’ll be out soon poopies 🙄 also my single part drabble for kate is lowk marinating in my drafts and i don’t have the motivation to finish it…

its been 5 months since you and kate finally ended up together. pretty long, right? but you two never really got the hang of this thing, especially after remembering how long those feelings between you two had been brewing up for. it was still hard for you to show up to her games and practice due to soccer season, and the second it ended, you showed up to nearly every single one of them.

“i really can’t come this time, baby, i told you!” you grumble while kate drags you across the dorm. they had their practice game at carver today but you couldn’t make it, which made kate upset. “dilanni is gonna kill me if i don’t show up.” your soccer team needed to show up together for this fundraiser, and it was during the offseason. fucking lame. you hated letting her down all the time but some things like this just needed to be done.

kate’s fingers grip at your sweater sleeve, her eyes soft, and lips slightly pouting. “can you please just say you feel sick!? you’ll finish quicker than i will and it’s not like they won’t let you in.” she begs and tugs a little at it. her height makes you a little overwhelmed but she’s slightly bent at the knees and trying to make herself seem smaller than she really is. “kate, its just practice. its not like its the final fours yet.” you sigh and make her stand up straight. your eyes dart to hers and you bring your hands up to cup her face. the way she leans into your touch makes your face flush up like never before.

“yeah, but you always show out! i know we’re still trying to keep this on the down low still but i love pointing at you in the crowd before i make a shot during our practices.” she complains, trying to pull her head away from your hands but you keep her in place like a vice. your thumb brushes up against her face and she sighs under her breath. all those shots that she makes have all been for you ever since. and you didn’t even know that. everything she did on the court was meant for you. “i’ll make a deal with you, okay?” your words make her feel a little bit better and she nods ecstatically.

“when you get back we can do whateverrrr you want to make you feel better about me not showing up. does that sound good?” you propose, the idea crossing your mind after you realize that she just wants to spend that time with you while her teammates try to piece together this big puzzle. none of them know other than caitlin, and they’re completely unaware of you and kate’s relationship. “yes! okay, deal! deal deal deal…!” she blurts out and smiles stupidly, leaning her head towards you again as a sign that she wants a kiss.

you give it and let go of her face, wrapping your arms around her waist quickly and pressing another big kiss to her cheek. “don’t work yourself too hard out there.” you breathe out and pat her back before letting go of it. “this fundraiser should only be an hour, trust me.” kate just shrugs and smiles again, less big but you still know that she’s pretty happy at your little proposition for when she gets back. the moment you walk out of that door, her face drops and she rubs awkwardly at the back of her neck. she’s alone now, and doesn’t know what to do. you’ve been with her for every game and every practice so she’s lost most of her motivation to go. “aw, dang it..”

after your little fundraiser, you come home exhausted and dreary when you realize kate is gone too. you two are exactly the same person, lost without one another. it’s cute but sometimes it’s hard. this whole relationship thing is such a different concept and it makes your head hurt. the lock clicks on the door and you dig through your closet, finding a pair of pjs and some small shirt kate likes seeing you wear for ‘some reason’. which is what she says every time you ask.

a quick change and your casual clothes scatter across the floor before you basically face plant into the pillows. a warm feeling fills up your body while you fall asleep, a feeling that seems different still without kate. you two always sleep and take naps together so this is another thing you have to get yourself used to.

the stupid fundraiser ran longer than it should have. at least another 30-45 minutes extra and you weren’t very prepared for it. kids were all over the place too and you were somewhat on babysitting duty? according to your teammates. you stood with all the kids for at least an hour and the questions they asked you were probably the stupidest things ever.

the sound of the door opening is what wakes you up, fingers instinctively rubbing your eyes and sitting up. you’re met with the sight of kate rummaging sluggishly through her backpack and taking out clothes. she mumbles out a small ‘hi’ and yawns, walking into the bathroom. the sound of the shower hits your ears and you just lay back down, trying to keep yourself awake to fulfill that proposal you made earlier.

a few moments after the shower turns off, the bathroom door opens and your mattress shifts in weight, a few drops of water coaxing you to open up your eyes. kate is sitting on the edge of the bed and she tucks herself in, burying her face into your neck. “how was practice?” you mutter, moving her wet strands of hair to sprawl out on the bed. she grumbles into your neck instead of instantly responding. “tiring, huh?” you ask.

“extremely.” she whispers breathily and looks up at you. kate’s eyes are slightly droopy and her lips are pursed. your arm wraps itself around her back and you tilt her head up with your hand, making her look up at you as you start rubbing her temples gently. kate’s eyes are opening and closing continuously while your fingers continue to massage her head and she huffs heavily a few times.

you push kate’s head into your neck again and slide your hands onto her shoulders, patting them gently to make her fall asleep easier. she doesn’t though. instead, she hoists her head up and quickly locks her lips with yours, grabbing your waist and holding herself up with her arms. her fingers are gripping at the bedsheets tight and she’s kissing you a little bit too hard. not that you mind, of course. “mmmf.. hey?” you pant and pull away from the kiss, making eye contact with kate and realizing where she’s placed her hands.

“i’m just kissing you.” kate mumbles and doesn’t even bother waiting for you to finish catching your breath. she kisses you again, propping herself up on her elbows and grabbing your arms to wrap around her waist. “y- yeah! but like… let me get a breather at least.” you laugh quietly. you’re still trying to catch your breath and the more you try to get away, the more persistent she becomes. “c’mon. you’re just sleepy, baby. get your butt to bed and you’ll be alllll good in the morning.” you smile and push her shoulders down.

kate ends up falling onto your body and her nose brushes up against your cheek, her lips running up and down your neck as she starts kissing all over it. “one more..” she rasps out and slides her hands underneath your shirt. she starts to claw your back a few times, whining into your neck when you try to push her away. “kate, please.” you grunt and pull back, nearly falling off of the edge of the bed.

her face is the same one as earlier. her big, pretty blue eyes going soft and her lips pouting. she looks like a sad puppy and you hate it. you hate how you can’t say no to it. “just one more! this is the last one and i’ll sleep, i swear.” kate spits out and tilts her head to the side. she yawns, her eyes getting watery and now you know that it’s basically over for you. “i can’t.” you mutter. “yes, you can. it’s just one more kiss, babe. please?!”

“all you have to do is give me one, and i’ll sleep!”

“you say this all the time! you’re gonna say that you’ll ‘sleep after’ but the second my lips land on yours, you’re gonna act like an animal.”

“that’s not true.”

“oh, yeah? watch.”

you cup her cheeks and she grabs your waist gently, your lips going in for one quick one. when she feels how warm you are and how much you’re trying to really prove a point, she just helps your claim anyways. kate’s lips are against yours again, kissing hungrily.

i mean, she’s practically eating away at your face.

#um this is so bad. #bye #kate martin x reader #wcbb x reader #wbb x reader #that pic of her is so cute

[ghostieyanyan]

Please may I request for more Yandere Riddle in demon AU please 🙏

hehehe... of course you can request more yandere riddle demon au hehe i gonna put my demon riddle headcanons here.

I'm still "world building" with this au (aka how everything worked and the differences with the original universes.) i always liked the world building of some shows, the consistence of it (shows that break that, then don't have a good explanation, it kinda ruins the show for me qwq)

also for the other people who asked me about more demon riddle stuff, do you mainly just like demon riddle or would you like more?

~~~

But here's some Demon Riddle headcanons~!!!

~~~

~ Riddle has a tail. The tail looks like a pair of scissors with a rose on it. Why I didn't give him wings? i could imagine him swinging his tail around at the roses that aren't red. ^^ To be fair, he could do that with wings too...

~ Yes, his mom is a LITERAL demon here. 100% monster. I like to think that when she's with Riddle, alone, and he broke a rule, she'll probably use her demon form to scare him into submission. Which will hammer the need to follow the rules (Sorry Riddle).

~ In this world, these horses are different than your "normal" horses. These horses don't have typical horse coat colors. some have bright prints and patterns, some have colorful mains, tail and eyes, and some even have horns, extra legs or tails, and much more. some have sharp teeth... These horse's have magic but its not called magic, they're just special abilities (like running water or into the clouds).

~ Riddle's horse has one horn (like a unicorn) and a print on it that looks like rose petals.

~ The food is also strange here. Poisonous Strawberry Tarts are his favorites.

~ Magic! When someone uses magic (a spell, unique spell, potions. etc.) They're bodies change! magical tattoos will appear and glow, their horns and tail/wings, will glow too. Their eyes will also change, their eyes get bright and their sclera will turn black/dark grey.

~~~

~~~

Here's the Demon Riddle art piece but with his tail ^^ (i took it out because it was too busy but still)

~~~

If you have any other fun headcanons or questions, please do ask! i'd love to build this world with all of you ^^

#twst #twst fanart #twst headcanons #twst wonderland #disney twst #art #digital art #disney twisted wonderland #yandere twst #twst x reader #twst demon au #twst riddle fanart #twst riddle rosehearts #twst riddle x reader #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts #twisted wonderland art #overblot

[monarchberrysblog]

𝑳𝑬𝑻 𝑰𝑻 𝑮𝑶

🔞 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎’𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a day in the life as a Resident in Nueva York’s Medical Hospital with miguel o’hara

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: medical terms (i'm no expert in medicine. i study law.), mentions of bodily fluids, loss, denial, the reader has MAJOR mommy issues (like miguel-), and heavy imposter syndrome. brief mentions of sex, suggestive comments, and ofc OOC MIGUEL.(FLIRTY ASS FOOL—)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: +4.5k words

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: (new aesthetic?) yeah… I watch Grey’s Anatomy. sue me. but that show has some good drama. part two might be around the corner, i really want to make this timeline make sense. And I based this heavily on a couple of episodes in Grey’s Anatomy! (Like I mentioned, I don't study medicine and if there are errors, I am sorry!)

This is dedicated to the gossipers; all of you need some love. 💌

"Mom," You meek out, seeing her asleep on that usual brown leather recline with a blanket. "Yes, mija?" She groans out from where she sat on her seat. "I've been thinking—" She turns her head to you, showing those exhausted eyes to you—those exhausted, dull, dead-set eyes you were used to seeing as a child. "Don't think." She mumbled. "It's a waste of time." She grumbles lowly. "Well, I was considering going to Stanford and—" She hummed before it slowly became a lowly laugh. "Ay, mija. You silly girl." She grasped onto her glass of wine, soon taking a well-needed gulp.

"Stanford has a low acceptance rate! They only accept four percent of applicants! They wouldn't even glance at your GPA or application! Don't think about even using nepotism to apply!" You look down at the red wooden floors in the living room, hiding away your embarrassment like a dog hiding its tail between its legs. "Sorry, mom…" You conjured up, not daring to make eye contact.

"Go homebound or something…!" She murmurs in a low tone before slouching on her recliner. "Stanford… Que estupida." She brings her blanket up to her chest more to cover herself.

Entering your childhood bedroom, the Stanford University letter sat on your mattress, waiting to be opened. While grabbing the letter, you tossed yourself on the bed and held it up in the air, seeing the crisp letter before you.

Here goes nothing…

/

The sound of birds with the drizzle of rain greeted you out of your sleep. Your blanket was nearly slipping off your figure, with your pillow barely holding onto the edge of the bed. You let out a low groan from the back of your throat, soon opening your eyes and looking over to your right. The red digital numbers on your nightstand read a number you didn't want to see.

05:25 A.M.

It was too early to start your day as an intern. But something woke you up for a reason.

"Hey, you…" The sudden burst of cologne and a warm embrace snapped you back to reality as a nuzzle to your cheek was the first thing you felt other than the strong arms around your waist from your one-night stand. Your underwear on the floor, along with the man’s boxers, said everything.

"You need to go…" You sighed, soon grabbing onto your pink blanket to cover yourself, and got out of bed. "What's with the rush? Get your ass back into bed; we can pick up where we left off last night." You rolled your eyes, gathered your disregarded panties and bra, and threw them in the laundry basket from nearby. "No, seriously. You have to leave. I'm kinda running late for my job." You sat on the bed, letting out a well-needed big, quiet yawn. To the man, the sight you gave him was adorable. But to you, you looked like hell.

The man grabbed his boxers and his clothes, bunched on the floor, and gave you a sight while dressing up again. The man has the back of an adonis.

"Enjoying the sight, cariño?"

"No," You pause, not even remembering this man before you while giving you a free show of him putting his clothes back on. "Miguel." He intervenes, almost reading your train of thought, barely taking off for the day. "Nice place you got here, very Victorian." Miguel cleared his throat, looking at the antique furniture. "It was my mother's." You huffed, not thinking about your words.

"Oh, I'm sorry about that…"

You looked at him in confusion, trying to conjure his words. The sinking realization brought you back to reality as you collected yourself. "Oh wait! She's very alive, not dead. Breathing and living." You exasperated, slipping around the blanket tightly around you. A chuckle filled the space as he kissed your temple gently. "Will I see you again, chiquita?"

“No.”

"No?" He found the response more amusing than anything. He adjusted his shirt slightly before running his fingers through his messy hair. "Well, yeah? You can leave now because I'm going to take a shower, and when I'm done, you better be gone."

"I can just join you—" He adds, pulling you into a warm embrace.

"Just go."

/

The smell of rubbing alcohol and cleaning supplies filled the space, along with the hustle and bustle of doctors and nurses walking or running. You heard the manic talks of men and women were heard as you held onto your tiny purse of belongings. "Hey, girl!" A gentle nudge on your shoulder greeted you. "Oh, Jess!" You smile, acknowledging your ride or die. "Who are you interning for?" She smiles, adjusting her braids.

"The humbling reality."

"The humbling reality?" you questioned, nearly laughing at the persona. Yeah, it's Dr. Parker." She laughed, grasping her lunch bag. "Yeah," you chuckled, holding your purse. "I just didn't expect that nickname."

Jess shrugs. "Most residents call him that because of how he behaves." It was nothing but the truth. The man is in his early thirties, burned out, and has a baby. It's the only thing he talks about. It's endearing. "He always shows pictures of his baby to interns, so get ready to get bombarded."

/

"Alright, rule number one: Don't wake me up unless there is an emergency. I rarely get sleep at home since my baby girl is teething. She's been keeping me up."

"What a way to start my day as an intern…"

Following Dr. Parker or 'the humbling reality' felt like a task while you and the other interns caught up with the exhausted man. "If you have any quiet time, take it as a time to take a quick nap or to snack on something in the cafeteria." The man turned on his phone to glance at the time. "But I can't promise that it will last a while."

The phone's backdrop you glanced at revealed a tiny redhead playing presumably with his stethoscope, putting her mouth on the chestpiece. "Where's the cafeteria?" A voice questioned.

"Wish I can tell you, but you're gonna have to figure it out." Peter huffed out before grabbing a couple of pagers from a counter and glanced at them, soon handing them out to you and your interns.

"Another thing," He pauses momentarily before pointing at a specific door. "That door is the on-call room. Other doctors and nurses always take these rooms. So, sleep when you can, where you can."

A beep sounded as it cut Peter off during his mini-presentation before looking at the four interns, including you. "Another rule, please follow me."

/

"Ay, mija…" The older woman greeted you and Peter amongst the group of interns. Peter stays silent for a moment before he chuckles. You recognized the nurse before you, causing you to bite your tongue. "Did one of my interns catch your attention, Ms. Rodriguez?" Peter made his way over to the older Hispanic woman. The older woman nodded and gave you a weak smile. You smile in return, looking down at the ground.

"Peter, no need for formalities. Just call me Nurse Sofia."

Nurse Sofia, a scrub nurse you remember seeing a lot as a child, worked next to your mother for many years. She always brought you your favorite gummies or chips whenever she visited your mother. (Against your mother’s wishes.)

The memory of this older woman took over, and you ignored her conversation with Peter. The memory of her taking care of you while your mother was away in the hospital plagued you; how she would feed you her home-cooked meals, bathe you, and tuck you into bed always brought a smile to your face. The woman always made it a task to take you in as her own.

There were moments where, as a child, you saw her more as a mother than your birth mother.

Your train of thought ended as Peter placed a clipboard into your hands. He speaks to you, using your name to get your attention.

"You'll be taking care of Ms. Rodriguez." He pats your shoulder before he leaves with your other colleagues. Jess gives you a quick thumbs-up before following Peter along. The door behind them closes with a soft click, and you flip through the pages on the clipboard and sigh.

"It seems you'll be taking care of me instead." The older woman smiles gently and reaches out to hold your hands.

"I will try my best."

/

The first shift as an intern dragged on as you sat in the cafeteria with Jess, looking at the bland sandwiches and fruit cups before you on your tray. "I heard that you're looking over Nurse Sofia." Jess breaks the silence before she takes a bite from her home-cooked meal. "Yep." You huffed. "Didn't she take care of you?"

You nod, biting into the bland sandwich.

"She was my mom's, I mean, Cecilia’s scrub nurse."

Jess stopped eating her homemade pasta and put her fork down. A voice cut the conversation before the woman could ask more about the nurse. "Wait, is your mom the Cecilia?" Jess turned to look at the voice and at the other intern.

Her wavy, black hair got tied up in a messy bun, showing off her dark eyes and fair skin. She looked at you and frowned. "Your mom is Cecilia?" She then chuckled and did a second look. "She was the best surgeon here; what happened? Did she retire or something?" She sneers.

"Yes, she's vacationing in the Bahamas." You retort to her, not appreciating her attitude. The woman put her hands up in defeat, slowly hurrying away from the conversation. "Didn't mean to push your buttons." The woman sighed slightly, poking away at her salad.

"Xina, just stop." Jess sighs.

"Stop what?" The woman, now identified as Xina, leans back in her seat and gives you a shit-eating grin. "We all know that her mother is the Cecilia—" Jess glared at Xina, an informal form of telling her to shut up.

Xina shrugged before she looked off to the side and perked up a little from her reclined position. "Oh look, Dr. McDreamy, three o'clock," Xina smirks before fixing her hair and making herself look presentable. You glanced over to Jess and saw a disturbed look on her face. "He's mid." Jess shrugs, earning a chuckle from you before you look up to see this "Dr. McDreamy" Xina was talking about.

Oh… Oh no.

Miguel?

Peter B stood next to Miguel with a clipboard at hand while having a half-eaten donut on the other, having small talk with each other before you see Miguel roll his eyes at probably some crappy joke Peter told him or at an inconvenience he told him.

You looked down at your plate of half-eaten sandwiches and cleared your throat. "Yeah, Jess is right; he's mid." You coughed out, feeling the dry bread lodge in your throat. You grabbed your soda and took a small sip, relieving yourself.

You missed the person you were a few seconds before his head turned to look in your general direction. And then you felt it. His gaze fell onto you.

Oh fuck.

You looked down at your plate, almost as if the sandwich before you was the most exciting thing you saw the entire day, despite you looking at Ms. Rodriguez's yellow eyes and urine sample. "Hey," He calls out to you, enough to make you feel your heart drop to your ass.

"You're the intern shadowing me, right?"

What? No! Damn it, humbling reality! Did he switch me to be with this himbo??

"Maybe..." You answer flatly, shyly eating away at your dry sandwich. "I am."

Miguel nods and beckons you. "C'mon. You'll follow me this entire day instead of Peter." Miguel grumbles, not looking up from the clipboard.

God damn it.

/

Following Miguel around felt like a task more than anything. You would have to brisk around with purpose to catch up with the man. It was enough to piss you off. The final moment you caught your breath, you entered the elevator and took a deep breath. "You walk slow," Miguel grumbles, waiting for the doors to close. "Well, some of us are average and not as tall as you." You angrily huffed as you leaned back against the cold elevator and took a breather.

"Finally," You huffed angrily.

Silence carried the small space as the two of you stood silently. Tensions were rising like a tide on a full moon. "Dr. O'Hara-" Your words ended when Miguel chuckled at the formality you brought. This was someone else entirely in this elevator. Does he do this behind closed doors?

"Dr. O'Hara? This morning, it was Miguel. Now, it's Dr. O'Hara." He chuckled as the metal doors of the elevator closed. The color on your cheeks seemed to have failed you, but he didn't acknowledge it now. "Well, we should pretend what happened last night never happened." You breathed out as you moved a strand of hair away from your face.

"Pretend what never happened? The part where you were sleeping with me, or you nearly kicking me out of your home?" Miguel asks, adjusting his glasses.

"There goes that charisma you think is going to work. It is not." You heaved angrily, ignoring the growing feeling of embarrassment flushing onto your cheeks.

"It worked last night."

"You shut up. You've done nothing but become an inconvenience." You lowly grumble, crossing your arms and sighing. "I can become something else entirely in this elevator."

Just as he said it, you can hear the innuendo in his words.

"Dr. O'Hara," You scoffed, looking up at him. "This is highly unprofessional!" Miguel chuckles and ruffles your hair, leaving it into a muss. "I'm making a line, and you're crossing over it." You state with a firm tone.

You fixed your hair while making eye contact with the man you had a one-night stand. You give him an annoyed expression while doing so. The two of you stood in silence while the elevator continued up. "Well then, is this line imaginary or drawn with an Expo marker?" He croons, stepping close enough to smell his musk.

You pursed a frown on your lips, annoyed that this conversation was even happening, let alone see your sneaky link.

"Alright, chiquita, let's put this conversation on pause. It seems like my patient needs our help." The elevator dinging out loud filled the small space before the doors slid open. He rummaged through the pages before nodding with the information he was reading.

"Take her to radiology for an M.R.I. Beep me whenever you're done with that." Miguel demanded, handing you the familiar files of Ms. Rodriguez. You sighed, clutching onto the clipboard, and looked into blank space.

"You want the Whipple, correct?" He questions, giving you that all too-familiar smirk. You look at him again for a moment before you nod and get off the elevator first.

/

"I am so blessed to have you care for me, mija." The older Hispanic woman beamed weakly while you wheeled her to the first floor, more towards the ER area. "You know, there are different types of surgeons," Sofia continues as some doctors and nurses wave at her. "There are the types of surgeons who remember their patients' names, the ones who forget, and the ones who remember the surgeries."

"Your mom always remembered those surgeries."

You nodded to her words, and some hospital nurses greeted her and squeezed her hand. "Nurse Sofia," some greeted her, while some patted her shoulder. You exhaled and let the wandering doctors and nurses greet her before entering the radiology wing. "I'll be fine," she chuckled, disregarding the comments of worry and panic. You huffed out, not of irritation but of worry. This woman, who has raised you as her own, trusts her life in your hands.

"Let's get you ready for your MRI," you sigh, bringing the two of you into the radiology wing.

/

You hurried through the hallways of the hospital, holding onto the charts close to your chest. You halted in front of a whiteboard scribbled with surgeries planned out throughout the day. Skimming through the board, you hoped to see Nurse Sofia's name or even a mention of a Whipple.

No... Nothing... Nothing about a Whipple. Did he forget?

You made your way to Miguel, ignoring the slight fluttering-like feeling in your stomach. The fluttering feeling is enough to make you throw up in fear, but wanting to avoid any word vomit that could escape as well. "Dr. O'Hara," You called out confidently, standing straight like a pin. The moment his crimson eyes meet yours, the liquid feeling on your knees is enough to make you melt into a puddle of a warm, gooey concoction like honey on a marble counter.

Ignore the feeling, ignore the feeling, ignore the feeling-

"I see that you don't have Ms. Rodriguez scheduled for a whipple." You commented, ignoring the butterflies in your lower stomach. "Yes," Miguel replied. "Do you want me to write it down and schedule it?" Miguel furrows his brows and shakes his head. "I want to see her biopsy and overnight labs." He disregards your comment by adding a somewhat irrelevant comment instead.

"But we're still doing the surgery, right?" You ask, trying your best not to plead. But the look on your face said otherwise; the look on your face made it look like you were a kicked puppy wanting reassurance from its mother or owner. "The woman has pancreatic cancer; we're gonna do something." He forces a chuckle out before he ruffles your hair with his hand into a muss.

With furrowed brows, you felt a pout form and growled from the back of your throat. "You know what? No, can I talk to you?" You reprimanded, standing your ground.

"The floor is all yours, sweetheart."

You lead him from the busy space into a quiet hallway on that same floor. "I like what you're thinking, chiquita." He sneers. You glared at the man and shook your head. "What? NO! Get your head out of the gutter!" You demanded, deciding to lead the conversation.

"Have you Ms. Sofia's overnight labs and her liver panel?" You demanded, swallowing away the flutter in your heart. "Yes, and ...?"

"Yes? That's all you have to say? No, there's more to it. You know that the results suck. She is choking on her own vomit-" Your words come to an end as Miguel intervenes with his words.

"She is a very sick woman-"

"A sick woman with the need of the Whipple!" Your words silence the empty hallways, only hearing the sound of a draft. "Excuse me? Since when are you? Her surgeon? You are an intern following my orders." Miguel firmly questioned, flipping away from the flirty persona. He took her biopsy results away from your hold and read them. Your hands grasp the charts and pull them down from his view.

"No, don't look at those! Screw what that says! Because you know what I think?" The sense of heat rose to your cheeks, not the kind you get when you do something foolish but something of anger...

"I think that you didn't want to do the operation. You think it's a massive waste of time and want her to die here!" You scolded your words like venom, briefly pushing your feelings for the doctor away. The slight rise of his brow showed a look of being impressed, but the corner of his lips said otherwise. The subtle twitch makes you want to take those words back so severely that you want to get on your knees and take back your improper words. But what happened, happened.

But no, no backing down about what happened.

The silence and tension between the two of you is enough to suffocate anyone if they step into the space, almost as if they were in hell's gate. Heat crawls up your neck painfully, feeling it bubble up like boiling water in a geyser in Yellowstone waiting to be erupted. No words were exchanged as Miguel swiftly left the space, leaving you alone with your regret and embarrassment of literally yelling at your late-night rendezvous.

/

You sighed as you looked out to the dark outside of Nueva York, seeing the city lights brighten the horizon. You entered Sofia's room and sat in one of the chairs. A long exhale escaped, and you felt like your knowledge of the medical world had disappeared like you'd been a headless chicken running around. "How are you holding up?" the woman asked, turning her head in your direction.

A nervous laugh escapes, causing you to clear your throat awkwardly. "I feel overwhelmed." You nod with the statement, rubbing the exhaustion out of your eyes. Sofia hums and sighs. "You are like your mother, kind of." She chuckles. "Her whole life is about her knowledge about being a surgeon, and here you are, doing the same thing." You rolled your eyes playfully at her words.

"Think about something else?" She suggests, getting herself comfortable on the hospital bed. "It helps me when I'm overwhelmed."

You humor her and let your mind wander in the blissful silence you spared yourself.

The pull of being in a jungle gym fills your mind. You remember how you moved through the monkey bars as Sofia cheered you on, watching nearby from the bench she sat on. Or you remember taking early morning strolls with her during the summer while your tiny hand grasped hers firmly. Or how you let the mom label slip out, calling the scrub nurse your mom by mistake a handful of times.

A smile tugs at your lips as you recall the vivid memories, recalling your childish antics with her. "Be like your mother when it comes to diligence and adaptation, but be yourself for me."

The beep from your pager snaps you back into reality. "I got to take this," you tell her. With a simple nod from her, you return the gesture and hurry out of the room. "I'll see you soon?"

"I'll always be here, mija..."

/

Days staggered, like a blur of events mushed together, like making a week turn into a day with consecutive tasks. As the days passed, Sofia didn't seem to be better but worse, making every little task impossible. It felt like seeing her dance with the grim reaper at the edge of a cliff with such grace, a dance you never wanted to witness. But that waltz would come to an end...

You stepped back into the same room for the umpteenth time this week, going to nurse Sofia's room. "Morning, Sofia." You greet her with a lighter, soft tone. "Mija," The woman beckoned you to her, waving her hand to you.

You made your way to her, lightly grasping her hand. "It feels like the old days, doesn't it?" She quips weakly, soon having a small coughing fit. "Take it easy, Sofia..." You whisper to her, soon making your way to her. A mere silence fills the space before you break the silence. "You knew that you weren't going to get the Whipple. Didn't you?"

You breathed out. The older woman with graying hair nods slowly, slowly stroking her thumb against your knuckles. "Yeah, I knew."

"Why didn't you tell me? You would have saved me a lot of trouble from Dr. O'Hara."

The older woman shook her head and chuckled. "It was about time you stand up for what you feel."

Your heart dropped at this, and embarrassment painted your cheeks. "How did you...?" You breathed out before you shut your mouth. "Word spreads like crazy here in the hospital. It's like a wildfire in California; there's no way to stop it."

"Thank you for taking care of me..." Her cold hands began to tremble, tightly holding your hand. "Shhh... Don't speak, Sofia..." You whispered to her, feeling your heart accelerate uncomfortably as you anticipated the worst.

"I'll always be here..."

Her eyes drooped, clutching your hand with the familiar firm grip you remembered as a child. She had the exact grip whenever she took you to the park or around the neighborhood for a walk. "Sofia?" The barbed wire grip around your throat became suffocating while the burning sensation was at the brink in your eyes. You put your stethoscope on quickly and tried to hear a heartbeat. Nothing. "Mom?" You slipped out, trying not to sob on the spot.

"Sofia, stay. Please?" You begged, suddenly feeling like a seven-year-old once again.

It felt as if your body did the motions themselves, rushing over to push the alarm button and rushing back to her to initiate CPR. "No, no, no... Please, no." You breathed out, seeing some nurses come to your aid.

"Someone page O'Hara." You breathed, continuing with the chest compressions, narrow-minded to your surroundings.

"She's a DNR." A nurse tells you, looking at Sofia's charts and paperwork. "No!" You howl, continuing with the chest compressions, feeling tired and worn out from the motions. "Doctor, she's a do not resuscitate-"

"What the hell are you doing?" The familiar voice fills the space as you glance at Miguel's scowl, indicating sleep deprivation. "Let her go," Miguel demands, making his way over to you. "No." You bellow, barely holding it together. "Let her go! She has a DNR." Miguel pulls you away, nearly yanking you away in midair. "Okay!" You yelled out, looking down at the ground to hide that pained look on your face.

The mere two seconds felt like hours as you took in steady breaths. You looked down at your trembling hands, feeling sudden uselessness in your system.

"Call it..." Miguel demanded, snapping you out of it. He tried to make eye contact with you, but it was impossible as you looked at the white hospital tiles. The nurses began to turn off the heart monitors and continued with their procedure. You nod slowly and let out a shaky sigh. "Time of death... 06:23." You nod before you swiftly leave the room past the nurses and Miguel.

/

You sat by the stairwell in the hospital, trying your damn best not to cry in the middle of your shift. But the tears rolling down your cheeks showed signs of defeat. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." You sobbed to yourself, wiping your tears away with trembling hands.

"You fucking blew it, Cecilia was right..."

The heavy door to the stairwell caused your sobbing to come to an end and to look at the source of the sound. "C'mere..." The voice croons to you like you were an abandoned kitten left in the cold rain. You didn't leave your spot from the stairwell, still sniffling and holding in your sobs, but the whimper-like animal noises made it an easy find.

Light footsteps head towards you while you stay hidden behind the stairwell. "There you are..."

You let out a slight whine before you started to cry loudly, using your white coat to wipe away your tears. Miguel kneeled down to where you sat and slowly reached over to you, pulling you into an embrace. You tried your best to squirm away but failed as he managed to hold you down. "Miguel, I failed her..." You choked out. "Cecilia was right-" You continued to choke on your words, barely forming your syllables and sentences.

"Shhh... It's okay." He whispers, rubbing his hand through your hair. "Let her go, okay?" He whispers, trying his best to calm you down.

You nod slowly, soon accepting the embrace and sobbing into his chest, allowing your cries to vibrate on his chest. "We did everything we could. It's okay, I'm sorry..."

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #across the spiderverse #miguel fanfic #miguel x you #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel x y/n #miguel angst #miguel ohara angst #angst #hurt/comfort

[cameronspecial]

A New Kind Of Normal (Part 5)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Relapse

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.5K

Summary: After a fight with his dad, Rafe makes another mistake that could cost him everything.

Masterlist

Stella spots her dad easily in the crowd of parents and runs toward him. He picks her up, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “How was daycare, little witch?” Rafe asks. She moves in his arms to look at him, “Good. It was my turn to feed the fishy today.” For the past few weeks, Rafe has been picking up Stella at daycare and dropping her off at the diner. It was tiring at first to drive back and forward from the Outer Banks to the mainland every day, so he rented an apartment close to Y/N’s house to make the journey shorter. Ward wasn’t too pleased when Rafe started working remotely, but Sarah talked to Ward about it. “That’s sounds fun. Are you still mad at Sabrina?” he asks while buckling the little girl. She finds his eyes through the rearview mirror, “Yes, she stole my boyfriend.” “That’s okay, you’re too young to be dating anyway. Boys are yucky,” he laughs at the pouty face she gives him.

——

Y/N is refilling the sugar container when Rafe walks through the door. Her surprise is written on her face because Stella is at her grandparents’, so he doesn’t need to drop her off this evening. She sets the sugar down, “Hey, is everything okay?” “Yeah, just didn’t really know what to do with my time since I’m not dropping Stella off. I thought I’d keep you company,” he states, sitting down at the counter. She laughs, “I remember the first time my parents took her for the weekend. I had a lot of time on my hands and I didn’t know what to do, so I rearranged my spice cabinet three times.”

“That sounds fun. How did you arrange them?”

“By country of origin, and then by taste, and then by alphabetical order, which is how I already had it. So I’m glad to be your spice cabinet for this evening.” 

Harvey comes out from the kitchen and sees Rafe at the counter, “Hello, Rafe. I’ll be with you in just a moment.” “It’s okay, Harv. I’m going to the kitchen to get something to drink. I’ll put in his order in. You can head on your break once you serve your table,” she informs, putting the sugar back under the countertop. Patty receives his order and Y/N heads back out to stay with Rafe. “How has your day been?” she asks, sitting on the stool across from him still behind the counter. He looks up from his phone, “It was a little disappointing. Work was the same as ever and I didn’t get to see my little witch. Seeing you is the best part of my day. How about you?” Her heart flutters and she uses a cough as an excuse to hide the sparkly in her eye. “I like seeing you too,” she says, focusing on the countertop. He gives a little chuckle, “I was asking more about your day, but it’s good to know you appreciate my company.” 

He knows she turned him down for a date and it hurt at the time, but Rafe hasn’t given up hope. She said that she liked him and timing was the only issue. He just has to show her he can stay sober and be in a relationship with her. Her eyes shy away, “Now, I feel stupid. My day was not bad. Business is better than usual, which means more money for me.” “Don’t feel stupid, Buttercup. It’s a simple mistake. I’m glad that business is going well,” he comforts. 

The two engage in smile talk until Patty comes out to give Rafe his food. “Patty,  I could’ve brought out his food,” Y/N protests, moving out of the way so Patty can slide the plate directly in front of him. Patty gives him a warm smile, “I know, but I just love seeing this handsome face.” “Aww, Patty. I love seeing you too. If only I was a few years older,” he plays along. She shakes her head, “If only. I would never dream of taking you for Y/N/N though.” “Patty, he isn’t mine. He is free to do whatever he wants,” Y/N interjects, disappointing Rafe. He turns his attention to Y/N, “There isn’t anyone else that I want other than Stella.” She looks at him with shock, understanding the hidden meaning behind the look in his eyes. “Stella is one lucky daughter,” she states while breaking their eye contact. Harvey calls Y/N over to ask her a question and this ends their conversation. “You love her,” Patty remarks. Rafe nods his head, “I do, but she doesn’t love me.” “Just you wait. She’ll come around. You’re already on the right track. Stella is definitely the way to her heart,” Patty returns to the kitchen. 

——

With Stella away, Y/N decides to give Patty and Harvey the rest of the night off and she would close up shop for the day. What she didn’t anticipate was Rafe staying with her until she closed. He spent eight hours with her at the counter. About three hours in, he commandeered her laptop to keep himself busy as she took care of the customers. He would tell her random facts to catch her attention and tell her a joke to hear her melodic laugh. He would steal glances at her every so often. Unbeknownst to him, she would steal some right back. She told him multiple times that he didn’t need to stay, but he insisted he needed her company to fill the hole of Stella being gone. The last customer leaves the diner and Y/N locks up behind him.

She turns toward Rafe, who still hasn’t left, “Do you want something to eat? You have been here for eight hours.” “I could go for some fries, but only if you eat something too. You haven’t eaten since I got here,” he points out. Right on time, her stomach growls in a long low tone. She didn’t realize she skipped dinner and felt butterflies at the fact that Rafe was keeping an eye on her. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” 

Around fifteen minutes later, she returns with a place full of fries and a burger. She rounds the counter to sit beside Rafe and puts the plate between the two of them. “Do you want to watch a movie?” she questions, pulling her laptop to her to open Disney +.  His hand finds a fry, “Sure.” He lets her pick Ratatouille since it feels like fitting with them being in a restaurant and all. Y/N inspects the fries on the plate and before she can take the fry she decides on, Rafe mindlessly grabs the one she wants. The fry is near his mouth, but she grabs it out of his hand and shoves it in her mouth. “Hey! I was going to eat that, Buttercup,” he complains. She shrugs her shoulders, “I like the crunchy ones, Button. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t let you have this crunchy goodness.” 

“That’s awfully selfish of you. How are you going to make it up to me?”

The pair had unknowingly gotten closer to each other. Their faces are only about three inches away from each other. His breath finds her lips and it takes everything in him not to bring them to his. She stares into his eyes, trying to figure out what he wants her to say. “Well… I don’t have much, but how about I let Stella sleep over at your place next weekend? Does that make you feel better?” she genuinely offers. Upon seeing she is serious, his face turns to joy, “I would love to have her sleepover. I have to get the spare bedroom ready. Maybe get her a few toys and some-.” “Woah, slow down there, Button. She is only there for a night. You don’t need to do too much for her,” Y/N stops his tangent. 

“I know. I just want her to enjoy her weekend with me so she’ll want to come back. So I can prove that I am a good father.” 

“Rafe, no matter what you do, she will want to be with you. You are her father and that’s all she needs.” 

Her right hand finds the side of his face and she plays with the bottom of his earlobe. He leans into her touch, letting himself be comforted after he is a little vulnerable with her. Her eyes flicker down to his watch and she notices the time. “Damn, it’s late. I should probably start walking back home,” she worries, scrambling off the stool and cleaning up their late-night snack. He looks at his watch, “You are walking home? What happened to your car?” “Joshua asked to borrow it and since Stella is not with me, I said it was fine,” she notes as a matter of fact. He helps her clean up and takes out his car key, “I see. I’ll drive you home then.” “Rafe, you don’t have to. You know it isn’t that far for me to walk,” she tries to refuse. He shakes his head, “Y/N, I’m not letting the mother of my child walk alone close to midnight. So, don’t worry about it and let me drive you.” She stops arguing and gets to work quickly cleaning up.

Once she closes the diner, they walk side by side to his car. He notices the goosebumps running up her arm and shrugs off his grey North Face jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders. She whispers a thank you. They get into the car and make their way to her house. He walks her to the door with his fingertips itching to touch hers. At the door, they turn to each other, looking into each other’s eyes. He takes a tentative step forward and she doesn’t move back. He is about to take a chance and lean in for a kiss when the door flings open to reveal Benedict.   

“Finally, you’re back. You sure took your sweet time with closing. Hey, Rafe. Y/N, do you have any mayo? I feel like eating just straight-up mayo,” Benny interrupts, walking away from the door to the kitchen. She pulls away from Rafe and follows her brother inside, devastating Rafe. He slowly enters the house after a few seconds to see the siblings bickering about Benny eating only mayo. The domestic sight makes him feel left out, so he bids goodbye to the pair. He is almost to the door when Y/N catches up to him. “Button, wait,” she calls out, gently grabbing his arm above his elbow. “I wanted to say thank you for keeping me company tonight. And for taking me home. I know you didn’t have to stay and that part of the reason you did is because of me. So thank you.” He looks back at her with a soft smile, “No problem. I have to protect the woman I lo- I have to protect the woman who gave birth to my baby girl.” She caught what he was about to say, nails finding their way between her teeth. “Right, well… goodnight,” she mutters, stepping back into her house. He moves back towards the sidewalk, “Goodnight.” Y/N waits for Rafe to be out of sight before closing the door.

——

Rafe opens the door to his apartment to find Ward Cameron waiting with an annoyed look on his face. “What do you want?” Rafe grumbles, leaving the door open and walking away from it. Ward enters the room, “You can’t keep living here. You need to come back to the Outer Banks.” “No, I don’t. I’ve been keeping up with my work and going back when we had a meeting. So I don’t see a problem,” Rafe argues, going to the kitchen to pour himself some water. 

“When are you going to realize that you are just playing pretend? That you are eventually going to get tired of playing family. It’s better you realized that sooner rather than later.”

“You have no idea what you are talking about. I’m not going to leave my family. You always say that family comes first and that’s what I’m doing.”

“Listen, Rafe. I know you and the only thing that you can stay committed to is coke and the family business. So stop kidding yourself.”

Rafe shakes his head in frustration, “Well, I’ve changed. I want to give my daughter the support you never gave to me but you gave to Sarah.” “When you realize this is all a mistake, don’t come crying to me to fix this problem. I already told you to sign a paper saying you’d only give child support,” Ward warns, heading back out the door. Rafe yells in frustration, throwing a water bottle at the wall. He doesn’t understand the point of his father coming over just to tell him he is going to end up abandoning his family. It drives Rafe crazy that Ward thinks he knows everything about his son when Ward barely takes the time to talk to him. His feelings for his dad come cropping up and he needs something to relieve the stress. 

A knock on the door causes him to stop his tantrum. Shit, he forgot he is supposed to have Stella over for tonight. A second knock comes when he is splashing water on his face to calm down. At the third knock, he opens the door to see an excited Stella and a nervous Y/N. His daughter walks into the apartment as if she lives there while Y/N notices Rafe’s emotion. “Are you okay? She can sleep over next weekend if this is a bad time,” Y/N says. He doesn’t want to talk about it, “I’m fine. She can stay. I could use her company.” She isn’t sure if what he says is the entire truth, but she trusts him to know what he needs and if he needs his daughter, she won’t stop him. “Okay, well call me if you need anything. I’ll be at home all night,” she informs, heading inside to give Stella a kiss before she leaves. Rafe sighs once the door is locked, turning toward his daughter with a fake smile. “What do you want to do, little witch?” She gives him a massive grin and pulls something out from her bag, “Can I practice my face painting on you, Daddy? I can make you into a monster.” “Doesn’t that sound like a great idea? I would love to be your model.”

——

The evening he gets to spend with his daughter is the best he’s ever gotten to spend. They went on a Target run and got a variety of stuff. Toys. Clothes. Food. Board Games. Accessories. Anything she wanted found its way into their cart. He didn’t care about the looks he got for wearing skeleton makeup that Stella put on his face. It may be June, but it is never too early to celebrate the spooky season. They got back home after the shopping spree to make all the food and play all the board games they bought. He had just put her to bed when the bad thoughts started to creep back in. The doubts he is feeling about being a father start to seep through. So far, everything has been great. They always have so much fun. But what happens when the real struggles of parenting start to begin? When Stella won’t simply go to bed because he told her so. When she starts to resist his authority because the newest of having a dad is over. 

His hands are going crazy with fidgeting with his watch. The leg bouncing up and down is the only thing emitting a sound throughout the living room. He goes to call Diana and is sent to voicemail. He wants to call Y/N but thinks twice about it because he doesn’t want to worry her. He knows he shouldn’t but he needs to stop the voices in his head. The DVD case in the TV centre is calling to him. His feet lead him closer to what he shouldn’t be close to. He gets out the case and opens it up to find the little bag of powder. Before this day, he forgot he had stashed it there and that is why he hasn’t got rid of it yet. It’s okay if he has a little bit though, just a little. Maybe if he knows he should control himself, then it will be better than using more. He just needs a little something to stop his brain. 

He forms one line. One line should be enough. The relief he feels, once he snorts the line, begs him to do another. One more couldn’t hurt. He doesn’t realize he has gone through the whole bag until he can’t make any more lines. The energy he feels gets him up and moving. He cleans up the mess they made while cooking and organizes the board games they played. After a while he starts to crash, so he lies down on the couch to try and get some sleep but the coke isn’t letting him. He stares at the ceiling for hours until eventually, the mindlessness of sleep overcomes him, forgetting to clean up the evidence of what he did. 

——

Y/N taps the door as lightly as possible to hopefully not wake up Stella. She wants to help Rafe get breakfast ready for the little girl. The knock goes unanswered, so the next one that comes is a little harder. Rafe opens the door with a confused look that turns to panic when he sees who it is. “Hey, Button. Sorry to wake you up so early. But I thought I could help you make Stells some breakfast. I hope you have some eggs because I was thinking about making some eggs benedict,” she explains, heading toward the kitchen to place down the tote with the food she brought. Rafe scrambles to block her view of his coffee table, “Uh, yeah. The eggs are in the fridge.” He was too late. Her eyes are already narrowed at something in the living room and he knows she saw his last night late activities. 

She heads toward the table to make sure she is actually seeing what she thinks she is seeing. “You relapsed,” she mutters to herself in a calm and worrying tone. Rafe runs to her side, gently turning her to look at him, “Buttercup, I know I did. But I promised it wasn’t that much. I just needed something to stop my thoughts.” Her head starts to shake violently as she yanks her hand out of his hold and walks back slowly toward Stella’s room. The anger she feels is now showing, “If it wasn’t that much, then how come the bag is empty, Rafe? How much was in that bag? HOW MUCH COCAINE DID YOU DO WHILE MY DAUGHTER WAS UNDER YOUR CARE?” The blow comes in twofold. The first, she didn’t call him the playful nickname she always does. The second, she called Stella her daughter instead of theirs. 

“I know I screwed up, Buttercup. But I promise, she wasn’t awake.” 

“You don’t get to call me that right now. I don’t care if she is awake or not. I’m upset at the fact that you did drugs while she was in the house. That she could’ve woken up while you were sleeping and had access to the mess you left. Or worse, you died on the couch because you overdosed. ” 

“Of course, you are allowed to be upset. But it was a mistake. I’m sorry. It will never happen again. Y/N, please.”

“I can’t Rafe. I know that relapsing is sometimes a part of the journey to sobriety and I can forgive that. I can’t forgive putting Stella at risk.”

Y/N walks away in the direction of Stella’s room. All he can do is wait there as he hears the door open. “Stella. Baby, wake up. It’s time to go,” Y/N murmurs, kneeling beside the bed and running her fingers through Stella’s hair. The girl gently stirs, “Why, Mommy? I haven’t had breakfast yet.” “Because, Baby, Daddy needs to go somewhere so we have to go. We can make breakfast at home,” the mother explains, helping her daughter put of the bed. She knows Stella wants to debate more, but isn’t allowed to because Y/N is packing Stella’s stuff as fast as she can. 

Rafe is still standing there when Y/N comes back out with Stella in one arm and the little girl’s bag over the other shoulder. This makes him rush toward her, “Y/N, please. Don’t go. Please.” She ignores him and walks out the door, leaving the food she brought. He can hear Stella demanding to say bye to her Daddy and it rips his heart out as he hears Y/N firmly say no. He slams the door shut, screaming into the oblivion of his pain. 

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