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#staying with my parents as an adult has been... weird
cookinguptales · 2 years
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tsukinofaerii said: Why not? Lucy's clearly up for sharing.
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No, no. Faerii, I simply cannot make any more sex jokes about Lucy. I’m too traumatized after yesterday.
Last night I was telling my parents about my dear friend Jonathan’s exploits over dinner, as has been my recent custom, and... god, Dad made some dirty joke, I can’t remember exactly what it was...
I think it was something like
me: but honestly it sounds kind of like she’s into all of them
dad: no, it sounds like she wants them all to be into her! *eyebrows*
and, NOT EVEN THINKING ABOUT IT, I say, “well, if any woman would be into pegging...”
and my dad looks at me, dead in the eyes, and asks, “what’s pegging?”
aND THAT’S WHEN I KNEW I HAD FUCKED UP
and I’m too embarrassed to say anything for a second, like this is my dad, we are eating dinner and my mom tries to explain to him what pegging is but her explanation is incorrect, she has dramatically misunderstood the concept
so then I slowly, painstakingly, have to explain to both of my parents what pegging is, which I guess was also my punishment for explaining to my parents what pegging is.
🙃🙃🙃
BONUS: me repeatedly babbling “it’s not even weird it’s common I wasn’t trying to confuse you I wasn’t even talking about a weird one” and my dad, all curiosity, going, “what are the weird ones?”
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rinniessance · 5 months
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DADDY'S FAVORITE GIRL ༊*·˚ - step dad!gojo x fem!reader
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going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to in the summer is a new step-dad. and you do not like the dangerous glint in his eyes every time he looks at you.
꒰ warnings: nsfw - dark content - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ non-curse au. step dad!gojo, stepcest, age difference (reader is implied to be 21, gojo is in his late 30s), dubcon, gaslighting, manipulation, cheating, heavy daddy kink, so many pet names (babygirl, pretty, doll, princess etc.), slight dacraphyllia, slight overstimulation, breeding kink, unprotected sex, virginity loss, corruption kink. plot is kinda messy 'cause i was rushing to get to the smut, sowwy ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ // word count: 5.1k ꒱ ꒰ notes: i am freely being my most disgusting self, thank you for supporting my little insane brain .ᐟ.ᐟ꒱
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going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to during summer break is a new step-dad. ever since your parents divorced when you were 14, your mom has been single – your teenage years, she dedicated herself to you, protecting you from your scumbag father, focusing on your future. you even agreed to delay your college admittance until you were 20, taking two gap years after your high school to stay at your hometown with her. your mom has the worst case of separation anxiety – which is why maybe you should’ve been more concerned when she gradually stopped texting you as the days went on. you assumed the best – maybe she found a hobby, maybe she reconnected with old friends, maybe she finally realized you are an adult and stopped babying you every waking moment. what you did not expect is for her to get married.
these are the thoughts running through you head as you stand in the middle of your living room, fresh out the airport, gawking at the man sleeping on the couch, and wonder how the fuck that happened. you would’ve honestly screamed and thought this was a squatter, or a robber, if not for all the wedding pictures obnoxiously decorating almost every available surface (god, how many photos do you need?). you try not to think too much about it – the flight was 6 hours, you barely got any sleep sitting to the smelliest man on the planet, and you just want to take a shower and go to bed. just as you start walking off, the front door swings open.
“oh my god, sweetheart, you’re home!” your mom’s voice booms through the quiet room resonating like a thunderclap in the middle of a still field. she runs to you, immediately pulling you into a hug which you happily return. you’re genuinely delighted to see her, albeit feeling a little weirded out by a man she decided to bring home. your mother looks over to the couch, man’s sleeping figure not moving once, and sighs with exasperation. “i assume he didn’t pick you up?”
“no but it’s okay…” you whisper quietly and gesture towards the figure on the couch with your head, “about that, though…”
“yeah, honey, i know, i am sorry i didn’t tell you. everything has been happening so quickly, i haven’t even had time to process it myself!” she squealed like a school girl. “his name is satoru gojo and we met at the charity event i went to six months ago.”
“since when do you attend charity events?” you ask, quirking the brow upwards.
“oh, i didn’t know what to do with myself ever since you moved out so i’ve been trying anything and everything. and look, the results have been phenomenal!” she giggled, frustration she had towards her husband about not picking you up melting away in front of your eyes. god, he really had her wrapped around his finger.
“okay, well, i am kind of tired so i wanted to go to bed. is it okay if we talk about this tomorrow?”
your mom suddenly looks down at her feet, a little embarrassed. what did she do.
“yes, about that… that room was sitting unutilized the whole time you were away so satoru and i thought it would be a good idea to remake it into a home office, kind of. your bed is still in there though! so you can sleep in the room no problem.”
“mom, what the fuck…” you whine. not only your room with all your memories and all your personality was gone and demolished, you now have to sleep in the room that was most likely used by him. “home office” my ass, you thought – your mom would not need it in a million years, and by the way she’s avoiding your gaze in shame, it was definitely not her idea.
“i’m sorry baby, but you’ve been away and…”
you interrupt her with a wave of your hand.
“whatever, i’m too tired to think about it. i’ll take a shower and go to bed, i don’t wanna deal with him until tomorrow,” you sigh with frustration and walk off into your home office, dropping your things on the floor.
what you don’t see as you walk off is the dangerous glint in satoru’s eyes as he listens to every bits of your conversation. you said the last sentence with so much poison, he thinks it might’ve struck him dead. gojo knows it will be difficult to get on your good side now but he likes to play these games on hard mode.
oh, you will be so much fun to break.
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gojo satoru is a patient man – when he really wants something, he is content to wait until he gets it. that being the main reason why he approaches you slowly. it’s the next day after you arrive that he has a chance to introduce himself properly.
you leave the room after having the best night’s sleep – you really didn’t mind waking up in the office today, you must’ve been too tired to think straight and threw a fit yesterday. you make a mental note to apologize to your mom later. as you turn into the kitchen, you’re met with the view you wish did not have such a strong effect on you – your step-dad, freshly out of the shower, grey sweatpants low riding on his hips, is preparing what seems to be breakfast.
you’re so fucked.
you try to shake off the feeling of arousal washing over you. you may not have had a chance to have any sexual experiences yet, but you’re not that much of a virgin not to know when you’re feeling horny. you just wish it wasn’t due to the incredibly hot step-dad. the left-over frustration from previous night bubbles up like over spilled champagne and you decide to keep your distance. anger helps you keep yourself grounded, and you maneuver around the man to make breakfast, but you see that he prepared it for you already.
“oh, thank you,” you say quietly as he extends the plate to you.
“you’re very welcome, sweetheart.”
the nickname sends a shiver down your spine.
gojo turns to face you and gives you his breathtaking smile. you want to choke on your toast.
“i wanted to apologize for not picking you up yesterday. your mom told me so much about you, and i was excited to meet her ‘favorite girl’,” his eyes spark with a dangerous glint at the nickname, making you shrink into yourself, “but my work held me up, and then i think i went for a quick nap and… uh… ended up falling asleep,” he says with a light chuckle.
“that’s okay, i didn’t really mind the train ride,” you respond with visible discomfort,
he now stands next to you by the counter, his body heat palpable, melting over you like a scorching son. gojo’s all-teeth smile is gorgeous, frustratingly enough, but it makes your skin crawl: like a prey walking into the carefully designed trap, you can feel your gut asking you to run. it makes sense your mom fell for him so easily.
“will you let me make up for it? let’s go our for a dinner, i’m sure your mom would be delighted to hear we’re trying to get along.”
“i don’t know, i haven’t seen my friends in some time, i think i’ll be hanging out with them for a while,” you shuffle from leg to leg, trying to move away
“that’s okay, we have a whole summer ahead.”
for some reason it felt more like a threat than a promise.
you smile politely back, not knowing what to say, rushing to finish your breakfast. the image of your step-dad, half-naked in your family kitchen talking to you about his plans with you for the whole summer should be weird – it’s difficult to find it weird when the said step-dad is criminally hot, unfortunately.
“i think i’ll go now, thanks for the breakfast,” gojo’s gives you a smile so sweet, it somehow triggers a toothache, and waves you off. since yesterday, he’s been making you feel extremely on edge for no apparent reason, it’s driving you a little insane.
when you come back home that evening, you are greeted by both your mom and satoru with the dinner ready. she babbles about how great of a cook he is, and that she can’t wait until you try it. you politely decline citing that you’re full and quickly leave for your room – satoru’s blue eyes were looking at you with almost an animalistic stare, and you hated that you liked it.
gojo thought things were going well with you – he’s given you the space you need in the first two weeks after you arrived. your mom was overjoyed seeing how deeply satoru already cared about you – making sure you eat in the morning, not letting you go to bed without a meal, always checking on you throughout the day, keeping you safe. you, however, thought it was… weird, if anything, that he was all around you this intensely.
“oh, honey, that’s just how he shows that he cares. he was like that with me as well,” your mom tells you one of the nights when you bring it up. it worries you how easily she takes his side now and wonder if something else is going on.
satoru picks you up when you stay out too late, to the wee hour of the night when the subways stop running; he makes sure you have your nights with your mom, when he doesn’t intrude on your backyard conversations and only adores you pretty features from his second-floor window; he learns what movies and music and tv you like, trying to decipher the person that is you.
he’s been putting all this effort to get to know your every step – then why the fuck does he find you one night you kissing some random boy on your driveway?
you said you were going out today and no pickup was needed – now it makes sense why.
gojo satoru is a patient man. but even his patience can start running thin, trickling like water through cracks in the fingers. hourglass of his kindness has been half full for a while now – it’s about time the sand runs out.
you think a boy like him can give you what satoru can? just you wait and see.
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kitchen is uncharacteristically quiet when you walk in. it’s the next morning, and usually by now, satoru would be making breakfast for you. his job is still unknown – you are not sure if he was suddenly called in but the feeling of happy solitude falls over you, even if for a moment.
your mom is gone at least for two weeks for work, you’re dreading the moment you have to be left alone with your step-dad. the look in his eyes yesterday was dangerous, a predator appraising its victim before sinking its teeth in, and you’re happy megumi was able to leave quickly after walking you home. surprisingly, gojo didn’t say you a word when you walked into the house, silently sitting in front of the tv like he didn’t just spy through the window on your kiss with the boy.
air in the room was heavy with tension – you knew satoru was avoiding looking your way, jaw clenched, hands balled into fists. instinctively, you wanted to break the silence, say something to discharge the electricity jumping through the atoms of your stuffy living room air, but ultimately decided against it. you have nothing to say to a man, and it’s not like you needed to justify your actions in front of him anyways. you quickly retreated into the office and avoided him until you fell asleep.
when you woke up to an empty apartment not even fifteen minutes ago, you felt relief. walking into the kitchen and confirming your presence alone, you even felt happy. then what is this weird feeling, almost as if you are missing something, nagging at you? you thought of going out today but now a strange desire to stay at home washes over.
you make breakfast for the first time since you came home (gojo didn’t skip a single day, you have no idea how he kept up with that), and you chastise yourself for feeling weird about cooking for yourself; and you chastise yourself again when your mind lingers on the thoughts of a certain white-haired man; and again when you look at your phone, convincing yourself it’s a bad idea to text him. god, you feel so stupid. didn’t you want him to stop being so unsettlingly sweet and dotting around you all the time?
conflicted by your irrationality once again, you frustratingly take your plate and sit down on the couch. flipping through the netlifx previews, you land on something to distract your mind by. you settle on some true crime documentary and let the horrors on the screen consume you, abandoning for a moment the thoughts plaguing your head.
you’ve been glued to the screen for at least two hours before you heard the jiggle of the keys. like an eager puppy, you waited for gojo to come inside and greet you like he would every day – only for him to completely ignore your presence, beelining straight for the kitchen. turning your head back to the tv, you try your best not to pay any attention to the uncharacteristic behavior from satoru’s end.
“i will be in the home office the whole day, don’t enter.”
before you can respond anything back, your step-dad is already walking off without sparing you a second glance. is he still upset from yesterday? you didn’t think kissing megumi would be that much of a deal. your nervously play with the hem of the blanket, show playing on tv long forgotten, contemplating what you should do next. why are you bothered by his silence this much anyways?
rethinking your earlier choice, you send a quick text to your friend asking to meet you for drinks. maybe right now gojo needs space, or whatever, and leaving him alone is the best next thing right now. you knock at the door of the home office.
“sorry, i am going out now and need to quickly change.”
not even 5 seconds pass before the door is swung open by a man that’s been occupying too much of your mental space today.
“be quick,” is the only response you get before he leaves the room and closes the door behind him. you’re perplexed by this sudden change in behavior yet again. throwing on the first decent outfit you can find, you let gojo know that you’re done and will be home later; hum is the only acknowledgment you get before he disappears in the office.
exiling all the thoughts of satoru gojo from your head, you leave your house, hoping tomorrow will put all the pieces of the puzzle back together.
yet the next day comes, and you still wake up to no warmth from satoru – it felt as if he built a wall between the two of you in one night’s span, impossible to be breached. should you talk to him? should you apologize? and apologize for what? you didn’t do anything wrong, did you? ignoring the gnawing feeling inside once more, you retreat to the living room, sulking on the couch until the end of the day, clawing onto the hope gojo of tomorrow will acknowledge your existence.
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“did i do something wrong?”
you stand in the doorway to gojo’s office, arms crossed over your chest. he lazily turns his head your way as if giving you even a second of his time is too much of a bother – the look he sends you is burning through your core, making you pathetically weak and wet.
“no,” he starts slowly, “do you think you did something wrong?”
“i don’t know! that’s why i’m asking. you’ve been ignoring me for the past week, and it’s getting weird.”
“i thought i’d leave you alone, it seems you’re capable of having fun on your own.”
satoru is looking back to his screen now, and you scrunch your eyebrows, frustrated by the riddles he’s throwing your way. walking inside the room, your close the door on instinct and take wide steps to stand in front of him.
“stop answering me like this, we’re not playing a charade. what do you mean?” the demand in your voice is clear, and it twists something inside satoru – his gaze falls on you again yet this time it’s dark, taunting, dangerous, with a hint of chaos. it scares and excites you.
gojo suddenly stands up, and pushes you into his desk until you’re sitting on it. he is tall – your mom basically married a giant – and you try to curl into yourself to escape his malicious eyes.
“what, i thought you wanted me to leave your alone? you want my attention now all of a sudden?” he respond with the question of his own in a mocking tone.
“i never said i wanted you to ignore me…” you answer meekly, yelping slightly as your back hits his desk – you suddenly realize there is nowhere to run now.
“really? we’ve been together in a house for almost a month now, and yet you showed no interest in getting to know me.”
“’m sorry…” you cannot think of anything else to say. gojo moves even closer, and is now towering over you – it makes you embarrassingly horny.
“show me how sorry you are.”
before you can respond, he is caging your body with his and capturing your lips in a kiss, and you freeze – all of this is so wrong, you cannot bring yourself to start moving your mouth against his. gojo’s tongue coerces its way inside, exploring the undiscovered paths, his teeth biting your still lips. closing your eyes, you whimper and try to push him away but he only catches your wrists with his one hand, while the other plays with the hem of your shorts. a gasp escapes your lips, and you push yourself further into the desk, squirming under gojo’s body.
“what, you don’t like it? i thought my little girl wanted daddy’s attention?” he torments you, voice condescending and thick with mockery. all you can muster is a pathetic mewl, words lost somewhere inside your throat, and dig your fingers into the edge of your desk as your step-dad forces his digits inside your panties, lightly brushing against your clit.
“god, you’re already so wet, so filthy,” he whispers between the heated kisses as the pads of his fingers keep teasing your pussy. “tell me, babygirl, are you still a virgin? gotta know how to treat you.”
“y-yes…”
“well, am i just not the luckiest?” gojo chuckles darkly, spreading your legs with his thigh. unoccupied hand goes to grip your hip while the fingers on the other are still working your clit, sliding the digits between your puffy lips, teasing your hole. every time he circles around the entrance and mocks by pushing his finger just slightly inside, the moan builds up in your throat, and you’re too embarrassed to let it out.
“common, baby, your daddy wants to hear you, don’t hide your pretty voice from me.”
gojo is infuriatingly good with his fingers – you could never bring yourself this much pleasure from playing with your clit, and your defiance starts melting away as you find yourself bucking your hips into his hand, whining pitifully. the man completely removes your shorts and underwear, shoving the latter into his pocket – something to remember this moment by.
“god, such a pretty pussy, i can’t believe you’ve been hiding it from me. take off your shirt so i can see all of you, princess.”
immense desire pools between your legs, hunger and lust evident in satoru’s cerulean eyes, now hidden by dilated pupils, and you’re surrendering yourself to him – want makes you delirious, completely erasing your sense of right and wrong. you remove the top, nipples perked and waiting. gojo looks at you in wonder and disbelief – all of that for him? his hand went to squeeze your boob almost on an instinct, rolling the nipple between the pads of his fingers, while sucking on another with his mouth. you drop your head back, losing yourself to the intense pleasure your step-dad’s giving you. seeing as you’re distracted by him playing with your tits, he takes this as his chance to shove two of his fingers inside.
a strangled moan leaves your lips, your hands gripping man’s shoulders.
“ahhh, that hurts, satoru.”
“nah-uh, that’s not what i want to hear you calling me,” he straightens himself and starts scissoring you with his digits. the initial intrusion is painful, you can feel your virgin walls stretching to accommodate for how he’s dragging the fingers in and out, yet the burn is woefully delightful, and you’re getting lost again.
“’m sorry daddy.”
gojo only chuckles – god, you were easier than he expected, so well-behaved and pliable under him.
“that’s right, let daddy take good care of you.”
he speeds up the pace, curling his slender, pretty fingers, brushing the spots you were never able to reach with your own. wet, soggy sounds fill the entirety of the room, air already stuffy with smell of sex as he continues to finger-fuck your pussy. gojo could feel his cock twitching in his pants, he wanted to take you right there and then, but he was determined to make you cum on his digits first – it prompts him to attach his lips to your neck, sucking on the sensitive spot below your jawline, marking you as his.
your mewling turns louder, breathing is getting labored, and it seems your hips have a mind of their own now as they are bucking into satoru’s movements, fucking yourself how you need it. something akin to orgasm starts building up in your tummy – it has never felt this all-consuming, you wonder if you’ve been touching yourself wrong all this time.
“daddy, please don’t – ah! – stop,” is everything you can say in a measly attempt to ask him to speed up. his thumb finds your neglected clit, rubbing tight circles around your bundle of nerves, and picks up the pace, cunt now clenching even tighter around his two fingers, and gojo groans thinking how you’d feel around his aching dick. he adds a third finger – it’s angled so perfectly assault your special spongy spot, it turns your brain into a mush.
gojo pinches your nipple, kissing you to swallow all the lewd moans to himself.
“is my princess close?”
“yes daddy, ‘m so close.”
“common, cum all over my fingers, baby.”
these words finally push you over the edge – your climax washes over you like a cold morning shower, leaving you trembling in gojo’s hold. your legs are trying to close to stop the man from continuing his abuse on your twitching pussy but he is too lost in the feeling of your walls constricting around his fingers to allow you to do that. he fucks you through your orgasm, bringing you to the realm of overstimulation.
“ahh, daddy, please, it hurts now,” you whine with teary voice, beads of salty water gathering in the corners of your eyes.
“shhhh, daddy knows best, yeah? let me feel you a little longer.”
gojo keeps his pace until you’re clawing at his arm, trying to pull away your pussy from his fingers. he grabs you by the back of your head, bruising your lips with the intensity of his kiss – you’re sure he draws blood by how he bites your lower lip, licking the messy aftermath. you’re still whining and mewling, trails of tears finally flowing down your face, and he’s sure he’s never seen anything hotter as he licks the salty tracks.
“you’ve done so good, babygirl, i think you’re ready for the main gift,” satoru says and finally withdraws his fingers. the emptiness is welcoming yet disappointing, and you groan. gojo quickly unbuckles his pants and shoves them down, alongside his boxer briefs, and you almost choke on your spit when you see how well-endowed he is. you don’t have a lot to compare it to but you think his cock is beautiful – it's long and slender, and uncut, prominent vein running all the way from the base to just underside of his head, and you get an immeasurable desire to run your tongue along it.
“is my pretty doll drooling jus’ at the sight of my dick?” he mockingly asks you, making you turn your gaze away. gojo chuckles again, and grabs you by your chin, pulling your head down.
“no looking away, darling, i want you to see how i take your virginity.”
with no other option, you keep your gaze peeled downwards, to where gojo strokes himself couple of times before lining himself up with your leaking hole. despite all the preparation and your previous orgasm, you’re still incredibly tight and satoru groans as he starts pushing himself inside. you can see his smooth cockhead bullying his way into you, stretching your greedy walls – man feels you pulsating around him, and that makes him twitch.
“fuck, princess, you’re so tight, feels so good.”
gojo finally sinks all the way in, your cervix being met in a kiss by a swollen tip, and you moan, sound almost pornographic. your step-dad doesn’t let you adjust before he pulls out almost all the way before sliding back in – he doesn’t go easy on you for your first time, setting up a brutal pace, not caring if you’re ready to take him fully yet. it stings, and you have to hold yourself on gojo’s shoulder’s as he starts fucking into you. his hands are on your hips, guiding them to meet his thrusts.
“daddy please, ‘ts too much,” you cry out but satoru is all too lost in how your gummy walls perfectly hug his swollen cock. he doesn’t respond, shutting you up by forcing his tongue into his mouth yet again, sucking on every piece of available flesh. slowly, the tension in your body melts away and gives way to a new kind of pressure – the one building up in your tummy. you’re shocked at how fast your body is able to start getting on the road to blissful ecstasy again but you’re not complaining.
“shit, are you getting close already, babygirl? i can feel your pretty pussy squeezing me again.”
“yes, sorry daddy.”
“there is nothing to be sorry about, just means your daddy’s doing a good job,” he says with a grin, keeping up the pace, rutting into your sloppy cunt. queefing sounds and slapping of skin on skin make you blush furiously yet you can’t take away your gaze from where satoru keeps burying himself inside you.
the girth of gojo’s cock is deadly – not only he’s able to reach the spongy spot almost immediately, making white spots dancing across your vision, kaleidoscope of pleasure lighting up your every nerve ending, he is also bruising your cervix just with enough pressure to make you twitch in delight. his pubic bone grinds against your puffy clit and it’s setting up fireworks against your skin, hot molten lava igniting your whole being.
your moaning becomes uncontrollable as satoru’s fucking you in an animalistic pace – he keeps splitting you open, the spread of legs is slowly growing uncomfortable.
“look how good you’re taking me, being such a good girl for me,” he’s babbling, edging himself too – he wants to feel you spasming around his cock, he cannot let himself cum before that. “gonna feel so good cumming inside, pretty. give you a cute little brother or sister, huh? what do you think? i bet you’ll look so gorgeous being pregnant with my baby.”
“no, daddy, you can’t do that…”
“hm, why? just imagine, you walking around, with my child inside your belly, all cute and swollen for me, tits full of milk. wouldn’t you want that?”
you hiccup a sob as gojo keeps dragging his heavy cock in and out of you, the vein you saw before pressing against your walls deliciously, and you feel your toes start to curl as your body chases after the second orgasm. you dig your nails into his biceps, certain to leave half moon marks on his porcelain skin, and bite your lip. in turn, he is pressing his fingers against the plum skin of your hips, marking you with bruises to remind you of this tomorrow.
“shit, i haven’t fucked your cunny for that long yet it’s already perfectly snuggled around me. i’m training it fast, huh? i’m gonna teach it to fit only me,” you can hear the grin in his voice as he says that.
gojo feels your walls tighten around him – he can see you’re teetering on the edge of climax, whining and moaning under the man, letting him completely use you – so he picks up the speed, assaulting your abused pussy. it doesn’t take longer than that for the tension in your tummy to snap, and you’re wantonly crying out satoru’s name.
“fuck, dollface, you’re squeezing me so perfectly right now. want to milk me for all i’ve got?”
you’re cock drunk, unable to respond to him, hoping your mewling will be enough for the man to see he fucked you stupid. he is not showing signs of slowing down – you can only continue whining as satoru chases after his own pleasure. he pistons his hips couple of times more, and you can feel him throbbing inside as he shoots creamy ropes of cum inside you, painting your womb white. the ring of mixed fluids at the bottom of his cock drives him insane, and he continues fucking his cum into you.
“shit baby, can’t waste a single drop now, can we.”
you’re letting out a quiet sob, pleasure too overwhelming and almost feverish, still unable to find your voice. when he deems it satisfactory that his seed is all warm inside you, gojo finally pulls out and kisses the top of your head.
“i’d say this was a good practice run, what do you say? your mom only comes back in a week, i’ll make you my personal cumdump until then.”
you snap your head up at his words, the smile playing on your step-dad’s face borderline sinister. you think it’s supposed to make you scared, then why is your pussy already twitching around nothing?
“yes daddy, anything for you.”
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fandoms--fluff · 7 months
Note
Hello friend I was wondering if you could do one more of Hope baby sister we’re Y/n is sick and wake up in the night crying because she is so sick that there parents and uncles are ants found men Y/n sleeping in the chest of Hope
Big Sister's Here
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Baby Mikaelson sister reader x Hope Mikaelson
Warnings: none, it's all fluffy
A/n: I'm becoming obsessed with writing baby Mikaelson y/n and big sister Hope
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You rustle around in your crib, you feel weird and don't know why your tummy hurts so much. Tears start falling your cheeks.
Hope stirs awake, hearing crying. It takes her a moment before realizing it's coming from your room, next to hers. Not hearing anyone else, she gets out of her bed and walks over to your room.
She turns the light on, only to see you laid on your back, arms stretched above your head, and tears running down your face. She leans down and picks you up.
As soon as you're in your sister's arms, you nuzzle your head into her shoulder. Your cries lighten, but only by a little. Your tummy is still hurting and you don't know how to tell your big sister.
Hope bounces you lightly in her arms as she walks back into her room. All the adults are obviously asleep and she doesn't want to wake any of them just to ask what to do.
"It's okay. What's wrong?" She softly starts to soothe you. As she runs her vacant hand in circles on your tiny back, you let out tiny hiccups from the crying.
"Did you have a bad dream?...no" Hope talks to you, but really herself since you can only say a few words. If you were to have a bad dream then it would have been small screams that would've woken her up and not just crying.
"Does something hurt?" you perk up at the word hurt. "Oh, what hurts, y/n/n?" she asks softly, hoping that you can give her at least a clue to the answer.
"You can show or tell me, don't worry nothing bad is going to happen, you're safe with me, you're safe with your big sister" She sits down on her bed. The only light source in the room right now is the lamp on her nightstand.
You're sat in Hope's lap, one of her hands supporting your back so you don't fall backward. Trying to think the best you can, being one years old and all, you bring your small, pudgy hand up to your big sister's tummy. You tap it multiple times.
Her eyebrows scrunch up in confusion. "That's my stomach, yes," She says gently.
You then bring your hand back to your own tummy and tap it really lightly, not wanting to make it hurt more. "H-hu..h-hur'...hur'" you try to say.
Hope's eyes widen, realizing what you're trying to tell her. "Oh, your tummy hurts. I'm sorry I couldn't figure that out, sweetheart" She kisses the top of your head.
Is there any medicine she can give you? she thinks. She knows she has some Advil pills for when she's on her period, but she can't give those to you.
"It's going to be okay, your tummy is going to feel better in the morning, I promise, hunny' She lightly presses her hand against your stomach and starts chanting a spell to take any pain away from your stomach. She hopes this will work, she hates to see you in pain.
"You're going to feel all better" Hope finishes the spell. "I think it's time for us to go back to sleep" Your eyes widen at what she says about going to sleep. You immediately cling to her, not wanting to go back into your room and in your crib alone.
"Aw, you want to sleep with me?" She smiles, loving how cute and cuddly you're being. "'ope" you nod your head, snuggling into her warm chest.
"Of course, baby girl." She turns the lamp off before laying back underneath the blankets. You stay attached to her the entire time.
A few minutes later your breathing evens as you doze off. Hope's arms are protectively wrapped around your tiny frame. She follows not so long later into sleep.
"Klaus, do you know where y/n is?" Hayley walks into the library.
"Isn't she in her crib?" Klaus looks over to her. "No, she isn't, and I can't find her anywhere," Hayley says, voice getting distressed.
"Maybe she climbed out and is roaming the city like Batman" Kol smiles from where he's upside down on the couch. His smile disappears quickly when Hayley glares at him with her, mama wolf look.
"So, no one knows where she is?" Klaus stands up from his seat. "She can't be far, it's not like she can crawl yet, right?" Freya walks into the room, having heard everything.
"No, but it doesn't mean something can't happen," Elijah tells their older sister.
"Before all of you blow this out of proportion, have any of you checked Hope's room?" Rebekah raises an eyebrow at her older siblings.
She sighs before leaving the library, walking down the hall to Hope's room, everyone following close behind. She turns the doorknob quietly and walks into the room, along with the others.
They all pause, taking in the sight of you curled up on Hope's chest. You both are sleeping away, oblivious to the crowd gathered at the door.
That is until Hope's eyes open, feeling the other presence in her room. "What are you guys doing?" She asks, tiredly.
"We were worried when we couldn't find your sister in her crib," Klaus tells her, walking over to the bed.
"Oh, yeah, her tummy was hurting, so I took away the pain and then we went back to sleep," she tells them quietly, not wanting to wake you. "And you didn't want to put her back in her crib?" Hayley asks.
"Hey! She didn't want to go back to her room anyway...I just didn't put up a fight" Hope exclaims.
Kol chuckles at her statement, "Shut up" she whines, turning her head back into her pillow, not wanting to explain anything else to them.
Hayley reaches down, about to bring you into her arms. "No," Hope whispers, keeping you clutched to her. Hayley raises an amused eyebrow. "Let us sleep" she tries shooing her family away, which works with all of them except for your guys' parents.
Klaus and Hayley each lay down on either side of you and Hope. Thats how you guys spend your morning until you wake up and manage to also get Hope out of bed. Which surprises your parents greatly on how much of an effect you have on your older sister.
"You're lucky you're cute" She mumbles, begrudgingly picking clothing out of her dresser with you placed on her hip, protectively.
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I'm obsessive over my Constantine Jr Au (which still needs a fic name for, I'm open to suggestions) because
this is a cranky danny. he's spent years fighting with no end in sight, with parents who he can't trust and his only companions never truly understanding what he's going through.
he vapes CBD for the pain he's constantly in. he drank alco/hol once to help him sleep, but his parents smelt it on his breath and, just like with their research, took that to believe EVERYTHING they'd ever suspected about danny to be true: that he drinks, he does dru/gs, he's in a gang. the only thing they've never suspected their son of--being a ghost--is the one thing he actually does.
then, right on the cusp of eighteen and freedom, he gets outed. AND transformed into a seven-year-old.
this is not a danny who is willing to play at being a child. and if anyone tries to, they're in for a foul time.
Danny was 17, transformed into a 7 year old and hides in Bludhaven, and is 8 when the police finally figure out that, hey, this weird kid who keeps altering us to crime scenes is usually right on the money about who the killer is, we should investigate that. Officer Grayson is on the case!
And discovers that he absolutely can't STAND this kid.
He thought he liked kids! Everyone thought he liked kids! but this kid...
This isn't called the Constantine Jr AU because Danny is a supernatural detective, or because Danny might be Constantine's kid. Its because Danny is an unrepentant little bas/tard and he makes it everyone's problem.
Danny vapes and blows bubblegum smoke in Grayson's face.
He takes out a flask and Grayson's grabs it, learning its full of orange juice. Danny then takes out a second flask, this one with vod/ka.
He wears a trenchcoat he found in the trash (the same trenchcoat Nightwing wears in DC vs Vampires, if you know you know) but the end and the sleeves are cut off for his hands and legs. the pockets are roughly around his knees.
Grayson is desperate to figure out more about this kid, but he doesn't go to batman because, time-line wise, this is right before red hood starts running around. Jason is dead/alive-in-hiding, Tim is Robin, and Dick is mad about it. (ages-- Bruce: ? Nightwing: 24 Jason: 19 Tim: 15 Danny: 8 Damien: 7-8)
he doesn't really bond with the kid until they're both kidnapped by a gang for hostages, and Danny's big kid emotions get a hold of him (he thought he could escape them bc he's an adult, he's gone through worse, but nope! child brain chemistry). Grayson is worried that he's hurt and in pain, but Danny confesses that he's always in pain. he has nerve damage all over his body, and the only thing he really trusts is CBD. He feels like shit for taking his juul away, but more importantly, because he's been treating Danny like a irritant and just a little kid.
they get rescued and Grayson tries to take him back to his home, but Danny reveals he's homeless, saying something like "I sleep where it suits me, just drop me off whereever."
Absolutely not, Grayson is taking kid back to his place for a bed, food, and a shower, in whatever order the kid wants.
Danny stays semi-perminantly at his apartment, but Nightwing tries not to push it, because this kid practically screams flight risk. unfortunately, the paparazzi have nothing better to do and snap a pick of Grayson and Danny getting dinner together, speculating that Dick's taken after Bruce
Danny doesn't care too much; I think his ghost form is the same, if glitchy, so his parents don't know about the deaging. Grayson is mildly panicking, but its not like he HASN'T been considering adopting the evil troglodyte. Even Bruce, Tim, and Alfred aren't the problem.
No, the problem is the Red Hood, a crime boss who just cut 8 people's heads off, seeing what looks like Nightwing pulling an innocent kid into the neverending fight against crime and Seeing Green.
Edit: Had to censor sh!t because ths wasn't showing up in the tags
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give me a minute (2/2) | chef luca
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pairing: chef luca x ex-wife!reader word count: 6.6k warnings: established former relationship, discussions of separation and divorce, discussions of moving on, luca and reader has a son, brief mention of blood and minor injury, smut 18+ (fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, size kink? idk luca's big, dirty talk, creampie) notes: it's finally here! thank you everyone for your patience, i am a slow writer by nature and life gets in the way, but i finally got around to finish it! happy reading, and do comment, reblog, and send me asks to tell me what you think <;3 ✨follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notifications to get alerted for my latest fics ✨
<<< read part 1 here >>>
06.13 PM
Your apartment has never felt so claustrophobic after that little moment you shared with Luca. You try to stay busy in the next hour —tidying up Alfie’s room even after he made it up, checking your email four times, even doing the laundry, for fuck’s sake— as Luca keeps to himself in the kitchen area. Whether Alfie is obliviously enjoying his screen time or purposely ignoring the weird tension between his parents, you’re not entirely sure. Right now, you’re just grateful that he’s not saying anything at the moment.
The boy simply creeps up to the kitchen counter with a shy eagerness about him. “How long ‘til dinner, Dad?”
“3 more minutes, Chef,” Luca answers, focused on the task at hand, so poker-faced that it makes his son giggle.
“I’m not a chef, you’re a chef!”
“Well, where I work, we call everyone in the kitchen ‘chef.’ Out of respect.”
Alfie climbs onto the dining bench in interest, peering up to watch his father set the dish on the plates meticulously. Luca doesn’t miss how the boy deeply inhales the delicious smell in the air.
“Smells yummy.”
“Thank you,” Luca replies, his excitement seems muted although his heart is soaring. He looks up to find Alfie staring at the plate, chin propped up on his little fist. You’ve always said that he looks just like his dad, but in that moment, Luca only sees you. Alfie has the way your mouth tugs ever so slightly into a smile, the way your eyes shine in childlike wonder. In quiet thoughtfulness.
No Michelin star, earned or retained, would ever amount to this.
“Can you go get your mum and tell her dinner’s ready, please?” He softly asks Alfie, as if not wanting to disrupt this peaceful silence. “Thank you, Chef.”
“Yes, chef.” The six-year-old salutes him and pads over to your home office, which doubles as the guest bedroom. The door is open, and he sees you reorganizing the linen closet with your back to him. He hugs you from behind, startling you.
“Oh!” You put your hand on his head, stroking him lightly. “Hey, bub.”
“Daddy told me to come get you and say dinner’s ready.”
“Gotcha. Thank you.” You half-expect him to run off like he usually does, but he lingers, his arms still wrapped around you. “What’s up, bubbie?”
“Nothing.” He buries his face against your side. “Love you, Mommy.”
“I love you too, bubbie.” This makes you smile, pleasantly surprised at this seemingly random admission.
“Love Daddy too, but don’t tell him that,” he whispers as he looks up at you, putting his forefinger in front of his mouth.
“Why not?”
“Sometimes he gets sad when I say that,” he murmurs. “He doesn’t tell me, but I know it.”
Oh. His playful exterior sometimes makes you forget just how emotionally sensitive he is. And it breaks your heart that he can see through the complicated adult emotions with his childlike eyes. 
“Alfie…” you level with him and pull him closer, “Your dad loves you very very much, and I’m sure he’d be happy to hear you say that. He’s just sad because… he’s been away, and he misses you a lot.”
“He should come home, then.”
It’s so simple, the way Alfie puts it. His Dad comes home and reunites with him and you, and his puzzle would piece together perfectly again. And you all live happily ever after. The end.
The truth, of course, is not so simple. But maybe, just for tonight… Maybe you and Luca can sacrifice a few of your own puzzle pieces. For your baby boy.
So you get back on your feet and guide your son out of the room. “Come on, bub. Let’s see what Daddy cooked for us, hm?”
When you and Alfie turn the corner into the kitchen-living area, Luca is wiping the side of the plate neatly. He smiles at you somewhat nervously, like he’s not sure what to do with himself, so you throw him the figurative olive branch.
“Smells amazing,” you compliment him as you and Alfie take your seats. “What are we having, Chef?”
Luca’s eyes light up and your heart stops. You stopped calling him ‘Chef’ long ago, when the moniker became synonymous with workaholism and neglect. But there’s no venom in the way you say it tonight. Call him sentimental, but it reminds him of the early summer days in the tiny apartment you first shared in Chicago.
Of blueberry pies and barely there bumps.
He has to remind himself that this whole ‘happy family’ shtick is just a charade now, it’s all for Alfie, it doesn’t mean anything for the two of us, but he can’t help but miss this.
And little does he know, so do you.
“Well, buckle up, you guys, because we are having…” He carries the plates over and serves it to you and Alfie with a flourish, “Baked sweet potato wedges with Mediterranean dip, and our pièce-de-résistance… Alfie’s Nuggies.”
It looks nothing short of beautiful, with the wedges fanned out like autumn leaves underneath a colorful burst of cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, olives, and feta cheese. The chicken nuggets are rich golden brown against the brilliant white plate. The splatters of sauce (is that Tahini?) is a hint of thoughtful chaos on the dish.
Your six-year-old let out a little noise of awe and amazement next to you, but no sound escapes you��not for the longest time.
“This is…” you look up at Luca as if he would have the word you’re looking for.
But his blue eyes just look a lot like I love you.
“Thank you,” you ultimately say, with absolutely no pretense whatsoever.
And if he does hear an ‘I love you’ hidden somewhere in there… he hopes he’s not imagining things.
*** 
08:37 PM
If you could travel just a few hours back in time and tell yourself that you would spend the whole day stuck at home in a nasty storm with your son and his father that you’re divorcing—and that you’d be okay with it, you would’ve probably scheduled yourself an MRI scan because clearly something is wrong.
But the night is winding down. Luca is tucking Alfie into bed for the first time in months. You are washing dishes in the quiet accompaniment of steady rain and running water, and everything feels just right.
“He’s out like a light,” Luca informs you quietly as he reemerges from Alfie’s bedroom and stops right by the kitchen counter. “Need a hand?”
“Nah, I’m just about done,” you casually wave him off. “You want anything to drink?”
“Uh… what do you got?”
“Scotch, gin…” you pause, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. The sink tap squeaks a little as you shut it off. “...wine.”
His heart skips. Don’t overthink it, he reminds himself. “Red or white?”
“Take your pick,” you shrug nonchalantly. 
Luca reaches up to see the bottles of wine you have in store, and you try not to pay too much attention as his shirt rides up around the waist—or the sleeve, showing off the remnants of Alfie’s crayon work over his inks… you’re just two co-parents hanging out. It’s normal, right?
“What about the Malbec?” he eventually chooses, taking out the bottle.
He’s always loved Malbec—this particular brand of Malbec you brought him when he first invited you for dinner on your third date.
Don’t overthink it, you remind yourself. “Yeah, sure.”
You pick up two wine glasses and set them down on the dining table, shuffling into the corner bench. Luca settles into the other bench, directly against the kitchen counter, pouring the wine onto both glasses.
“How many bedtime stories did Alfie manage to get out of you?” you pipe up, swirling the purplish liquid around.
“Just one…” he sips on his wine thoughtfully. “Although he made me read it three times.”
You smile, bemused. “Which one was it?”
“‘The Bear Who Did.’”
“Ah, yeah. He’s been into that one lately,” you muse. “But… for what it’s worth, I’m glad he asked you to tuck him in tonight.”
The two of you exchange a soft look. A ceasefire. A truce, at least when it comes to your son. Because you really do want Luca to have a good relationship with Alfie.
“Me too.”
“And I’m sorry you had to… make do with spending the day with Alfie here.”
He shakes his head softly. “Nah, don’t be. I had a good time. It’s nice to just hang out… at home.”
At home, the words echo in your head.
With you, they echo in his, loud and unsaid.
“So, uh… how have you been?”
“Ah, you know how it is. Work is kicking my ass—my current client’s only two blocks away, but the house is a total fixer-upper, and Alfie’s… Alfie.” You don’t want to backtalk your own son, although you both know how trying he can be sometimes. “But it’s all good. My mom helps out with Alfie, and Jess insists that I go out and live a little every now and again.”
“And do you? Live a little?”
“I mean, within reason. I can’t go clubbing ‘til 4am anymore. I think I’m getting old…” you stretch your arms, feeling that soreness just from your daily activities.
Luca grins, raising his glass. “I hear you. I don’t even really go out anymore.”
“Seriously?” 
“Mm-hm.”
You make an incredulous face. It would make sense for you not to go out much, with Alfie and everything. But he was alone, abroad… “Why, though?”
He just shrugs lightly. “I’m working. Whenever I’m off, I mostly just… eat or sleep.”
“I somehow find that hard to believe.” You take a dubious sip. You both know how much Luca enjoys grabbing a cheeky pint. He’s British; it’s in his blood, goddammit.
“Oh come on…”
“You don’t even go out drinking or whatever? Meet people?”
His gaze flashes towards you almost playfully. “Do you?”
Your face falls, not expecting to be caught so off-guard with such an innocent question. And upon seeing that, his face falls. Shit. And with that, the air between you shifts so dramatically.
Stupidly, you still try to save the conversation. “Of course my friends and I go out—”
“You know that’s not what I meant.” His voice darkens, his blue eyes piercing through you. 
This conversation is a long time coming. It’s a natural progression of your relationship—or the lack thereof. You separate, you get divorced, and eventually you move on. Two years is a more than acceptable time to start dating again. And still, you phrase out your next words very carefully.
“I’ve been on dates here and there…”
Luca sucks in a slow, calculated breath. “Does Alfie know?”
You shake your head. “It’s nothing serious so far.”
He’s not sure what’s worse, the fact that it’s nothing serious, or that you’re holding out for something serious in the future.
“Look, we both know this is happening sooner or later…”
“I know,” he quickly recovers—or as much as he can recover. He just stares down the stem of his glass.  “It just… It’s a lot to take in, that’s all.”
“I understand.” The wine feels like gravel down your throat, and the words coming out of your mouth feel like throwing up a boulder.
“Because I do miss you.”
Your eyes immediately dart over to his, as if you’re not sure you heard it right. “Luca…”
“I miss you everyday. I miss us. I miss everything we used to have.”
Your heart catches—no, stops altogether at his admission. “Luca, we can’t do this anymo—”
He swallows thickly, his jaw setting as he braces himself. “I’ve been thinking about it everyday—the whole time I’m away, and frankly, I’m kicking myself over not telling you this sooner.”
“That’s probably just the homesickness talking.” You turn away. This can’t be possible. This can’t be happening. What the fuck?! “It got you reminiscing about the good old days. Give it time, you’ll come around.” You try to maintain a neutral, distant, cold approach to this, although the crack in your voice betrays you.
“No. That’s not it.”
“Then what the fuck is it?”
Your words cut through the quiet apartment like a flash bang. Luca stops dead in his tracks in his shock, and honestly, so do you. Awful silence hushes over the room, and both of you are almost too afraid to break it. Neither of you even dare to move.
After what seems like forever, Luca moves first. A tear escapes his eye, and he wipes it away with his knuckle hurriedly. “Noma should’ve been a dream. And it is, in a way. I guess.” He stares blankly ahead, his life in Copenhagen replaying in his head like it’s on fast-forward, and the playback seems to just highlight how lonely he is there. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m utterly miserable there. I get up and go to work and I just feel empty. Because what’s the point? You and Alfie are way over here, being a family while I’m… doing what?” He wants to tear his hair out, because this is everything he’s dreamed of, and yet he is living the stuff of nightmares. “It makes no fucking sense.”
It makes even less sense to you. You can’t even begin to process this tangled mess in your head. “Luca… we are almost officially divorced. You’re telling me this now? When everything is—”
“I thought I was doing what was best for you. I thought I should just… let you cut your losses and—”
“The best for me? How the fuck did you think giving up was the best way forward for me?” The thought of it burns your eyes with angry tears. They melt, and you don’t do a thing to stop it from running down your face. “You didn’t think to fight for us while you still could?”
Luca’s heart aches to see that. He is dying to reach out and wipe them away, but he can’t. His voice is quiet and small and almost childlike. “I tried. You were just so… sure about the divorce. You had it all figured out. And I… I thought you had no room for me anymore.”
“I had to keep it together. I had to figure it out—for Alfie’s sake. For mine.” You stare at your little potted sunflower on the windowsill. “I don’t see the point in being vulnerable with you anymore when you’re already set on leaving.”
The words have run out. The whirlwind of emotions has passed. What he feels and what he wants is now very clear.
“I shouldn’t have left.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have.” You wished he didn’t. Everyday for the last two years. And everyday you set yourself up for disappointment because, the truth of the matter is, he did leave. So you stop wishing. “Because I don’t know how to come back from this. I really don’t.”
Nothing that comes out of your mouth is unexpected. But it doesn’t hurt any less to hear it from the horse’s mouth. “It’s just… seeing you guys today… We were a family again. And I would do anything for us to be a family again. Please.”
You sigh heavily. “What else is there to do, Luca…?”
“We can, I don’t know, figure something out, go to couples counseling—”
You groan in frustration, Jesus Christ not this again, wanting to tear your hair out when— CRASH! You accidentally knock over your wine glass and it shatters as it hits the floor. “Shit…”
“Mommy?” Alfie calls you from inside his room, sleepy but alert.
The two of you freeze just before you can move out of your seat. Afraid the slightest of noises would rattle your son.
“Yes, bubbie?” you try to sound bright and normal. Maybe if you can convince him that everything’s fine, he won’t come running in panic. 
“What was that?”
“I just knocked over a glass, kiddo, everything’s okay. Go back to sleep.”
You and Luca wait a few seconds with bated breath. One, two, three… ten seconds go by, and there’s no movement in the bedroom.
The coast is clear.
You scramble down to pick up the shards of glass. The spilled wine looks like blood in the dim light of the room. It’s a painful reminder of the broken pieces of your former life, the casualties. He quickly follows suit, as if struggling to put it all back together. The irony is not lost on either of you, you’re sure of that.
“It’s fine, Luca. I got it, I—” a sharp piece of glass accidentally cuts your palm as you pick it up in hurry. “Fuck!”
“You okay?” He takes your hand as quick as lightning, wanting to inspect the wound, but you snatch it away.
“I’m fine.” You get up on your feet, teetering over to the sink, away from the crime scene, careful not to step on any piece of glass.
Yet he still follows you, walking over to where you’re standing now. “Come on. Let me just take a look.” He reaches out to your wrist, running little circles with his thumb to ease your grasp.
“It’s not a big deal…” you let him look anyway, you figure it’s easier to just let him do his thing than to argue your way out of it. 
His calluses are brittle against your palm, but he handles you with the gentlest touch. The wound is not too big or too deep, but the sight of blood marring your palm makes his heart drop. There’s no visible piece stuck to it, that’s a good sign, he thinks. He rips off some paper towel and wets it on the sink, and softly dab at the gash, cleaning the wound and wiping the blood off.
You grit your teeth, not wanting to show any sign of pain although it stings. “It’s just a little cut…” your tone bears less and less conviction, as if you have no energy left to argue with him on such a small matter.
There’s a very particular way his eyebrows arch when he’s deep in thought. The left one always sits slightly higher than the right. Blue eyes fixed on the object of his focus. A minute gesture behind the chaos in his head. “You need a Band-Aid,” he points out. 
“It’s in the—”
Luca is already opening the drawer next to the stove, taking out a packet of a Star Wars-themed Band-Aid. He still remembers where everything is, and you can’t tell whether the ache in your chest is a good or bad thing.
He puts the Band-Aid on your cut, then takes your hand close to kiss it better, like he used to do.
“Um.” You freeze in your tracks, taken aback. And it seems he’s just as equally as taken aback by his own action. He is flushed with embarrassment, and you feel your face growing hot as well.
He’s the first to break the awkward silence, quiet and tentative. “I’ll clean up the mess. You just hang tight.”
It seems so mundane, sweeping broken glass and cleaning the floor. His body registers it as a simple muscle memory—he must’ve cleaned up messes on this very spot a million times. But his heart is heavy with the burden of your history, and all the pain that comes with your separation. He might not be able to put the pieces back together, but maybe he can clean up the mess and make it nice again for you.
And all the while, you’re stuck to the kitchen counter, watching him so effortlessly reacquainted with his former home. It’s as if he never left. For a confusing moment, it feels like home again. How did you manage without this view, this presence for so long?
Luca puts away the debris in the trash, hidden away in another kitchen drawer next to you, and hovers in front of you, as if wanting to reach out and touch you… but too afraid you’ll push him away.
“Does it still hurt?”
You can’t tear your eyes off of his. The little cut on your hand is but a dull ache now, but the insides of your chest feels like it’s been mangled beyond repair. You burst into tears, sobs ripping through the seams.
His arms wrap around you, keeping your tattered pieces together. Your face is buried in his chest, surrounded by soft cotton and earthy perfume, and your first thought is you can’t remember the last time you were in his arms like this. You rake your mind through all the memories, all the times you hugged each other hello and goodbye and all the times in between, and you can’t remember the last time you stopped, why would you stop—
“My love…” Luca’s voice soothes you, so quietly murmured against your forehead with a soft kiss, yet rings so clear in your ears. He cups your face with both hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “It’s okay... I got you.”
The palm of his hand grazes your lips, and you kiss it the way he kisses your Band-Aid earlier. You have no energy left to fight whatever is going on inside you. You don’t understand the nagging urge to be away from him, when being close to him feels this good. You miss his touch and his voice and his face, and you’re so overwhelmed with longing that you close the distance between your lips and his.
Luca gasps when you kiss him—and it feels like the first breath he’s drawn in two years. Your lips are just as he remembers, just as warm and inviting and familiar, and he relishes coming home to them tonight. He didn’t think he would be so lucky ever again, but now you’re here, kissing life back into him again.
Against your better judgment, you stumble into the bedroom, careful to make as little sound as possible as you tread down the hallway. Still tangled in each other. Refusing to let go even for a second. His five o’clock shadow scratches your skin, following the trail of his lips down your neck.
You push him into bed and climb on top of him without a single thought. You need him close, closer than the past two years, closer than now, and your clothes feel like they’re in the way. Of his hands, of his mouth, of his warmth…
You tear your dress off and throw it away, and he stops in his tracks. He has every part of you memorized, every curve and every ridge, every notch of your stretch marks, every inch of your C-section scar from Alfie’s birth… and yet he’s looking at you for the first time all over again.
“Beautiful…” it escapes his mouth just like that, and you kiss him senseless in return. You worry that if you stop, the moment will pass and this whole thing turns out to be just an illusion.
Or worse, a mistake.
You tug his t-shirt over his head, trying not to linger on his broad chest too long. He gets the idea—he is dying to say something, but doesn’t—and just unclasps your bra in response. He keeps his mouth busy by kissing and licking and sucking your newly exposed breasts.
It’s not that you haven’t been touched like this in a while; it’s just that you haven’t been touched by him like this for so long.. “Luca…”
He never thought he’d hear that again. His name in a wanton sigh, uttered by the lost love of his life. He’s not one to waste his chance. “It’s okay. I got you, my love. I got you.”
Because for the first time in a long time, it’s true. He’s got you. He’s got your body underneath him, your nipple in his mouth, your sweet sex in his hand.
God.
You’re so soft, so warm, so wet against his fingers. The little stuttered moan you let out sounds absolutely heavenly. He remembers exactly the last time he was here.
Christmas Eve, two years ago. 
Things had been tense long before that, but Luca was home and able to spend some time with his wife and kid at last. You didn’t seem all that chuffed having him around—whether he was here or not brought out that “neutral look of displeasure” from you these days— but at least you didn’t pull away when he rested his head on your shoulder as the three of you watched Jurassic Park (Alfie’s all-time favorite). Didn’t roll your eyes and turn away when he kissed you and wished you happy Christmas before bed.
And he wanted so desperately for you to openly want him again.
So he tentatively deepened the kiss and reiterated his love for you in every inch of your body that he could get his hands on. Trying to convince you that he was still here. Trying to convince himself that with every orgasm he pried out of you, that you still wanted him there.
But you just… laid there and watched. Hands locked in on the sheets, not even touching him. Motionless as he went through the motions of his thrusts. Numb as he touched and kissed and fucked you the way you used to like. He was fighting a losing battle. He might as well have been making love to a ghost. 
“Luca…” Your breathless voice snaps him out of his own intrusive thoughts, more clear and alive and real than any memory of you posing no desire for him.
“I— yeah, sorry. I just…” he shakes off his own thoughts.
“Hurry up, come on…” you needily thrust yourself into his hand.
“You sure?”
No, and neither does he. But at this point, you’re much too stubborn about your decision in the divorce and much too prideful to admit that you want him back and maybe just a tad too eager to make a mistake with him.
So you nod your head yes, and with a searing kiss, he fingerfucks you the way you needed him to. 
“Oh, God… fuck…” you sigh under the undoing of his fingers. It’s like he never forgot how to work your body. His fingers play a pattern on your clit that makes you sing. And when one slides into you, crooking and curling against your silky heat…
“Luca, I— now.”
He unlatches his mouth from your nipple almost begrudgingly, as if too sweet to part with you. “Not yet, baby. We can’t…”
“What, why?”
“Because…” he nips at the smooth flesh of your chest thoughtfully. How can he explain it to you in a way that makes sense? “I want…” to take as much time with you as possible, he adds another finger inside you deliciously slow. “I need…” to feel you in every way first, he chants in his head as he kisses you through your orgasm.
Your resolve is slipping, but the craving is as ravenous as ever. You try to squirm in protest anyway. “But…”
“Please.” His lips press against your forehead, eyes squeezed shut. “I got you, okay?”
His blue eyes meet yours, as familiar as the sky you’ve walked under your whole life. As sure as day. And before you realize it, you find yourself nodding along.
Watching him slither further down your body. Mouth paving the way between the valleys of your breasts, up the diamond-hard tops of your nipples.
Down your torso.
Between your nether lips.
You don’t remember the last time you did this either. Memories of attempts to rekindle the romance flash before your eyes. The nights that he climbed into bed late at night after work, still smelling like chocolate or mint or whatever ingredient he was working with that day. Waking you up with the parting of your legs and hushed kisses saying, “Missed you so much, baby…”
“Right there. Yes…” you pant as he laps you up where you’re dripping, catching every drop and coaxing more at the same time.
His eyes close, and he swallows back a needy groan. “Come for me, baby.”
The words shoot right into your core, and you’re suddenly overcome with the waves of pleasure running through you, grinding your hips into his mouth shamelessly. Has he always been so greedy in the way he ate you out?
Your head is spinning with need and you hope the broken words you string up are comprehensible enough for him. “Luca, come on, I can’t—”
“No, please—” he seems to understand just fine, but still he shakes his head and buries his face deeper into you.
“Luca…”
“Wait, just let me—”
So insistent. So stubborn. So… needy. You grasp a fistful of hair on the back of his head. Both heaving, you breathe out,
“Please.” 
The word stops him in his tracks. But it’s not so much the word as it is the gravity that comes with it. Whatever the two of you are doing, whatever you’re feeling is beyond words at this point.
It’s just you and him and this need.
And as much as he wants—needs— to satisfy his hunger, there’s just no way of stopping you anymore. Truth be told, he’s not even sure why he’s been stalling you in the first place. Not when you’re so eager to tug his clothes off and touch him absolutely everywhere. To stroke him, and taste him…
“No, baby.” He stops you just before you slither down his body, settling you back on the bed and caging you underneath him.
You throw him a look, indignant. If he’s gonna hold it off some more, you swear to God—
“No, I…” he kisses you hard, hoping you’ll get that he wants you too. More than anything. And that he’ll give you what you want. Hell, he would give you anything if he could come back to this again for the rest of his life. “Just trust me, okay?”
You marvel at the sight before you. So tall and broad and sturdy. With dark blond locks tousled in passion and eyes lidded from lust and longing, and it makes your heart stop because… there it is.
Love.
As much as you shut it out and as much as you avoid it, love is permanently etched to his actions. Tattooed onto the smallest of things. In the way he kisses your temple softly, and the way he caresses your skin as he aligns himself against you, and the way he holds you as he pushes in…
“Luca…” you gasp sharply.
He stops halfway into you, his eyes searching your face with compassion. “You okay?”
You’re aching and craving the stretch of him all at once, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, so you ultimately nod your head. I’m okay. 
And he knows that deep down. He feels the same. Soothed and tormented by your very presence, although he can’t help but ask, “Do you want me to stop?” Please don’t ask me to stop…
You shake your head quickly. Neither of you would ever dream of it. You would take everything—the weight and the sting of it all— and he would leave everything behind just to have this again.
Your hips colliding again in a frenzy of a rhythm you haven’t played in so long—still remembering every beat like it’s your own pulse. Your walls gripping him like you wouldn’t let him go.
He shudders a little. “I’m gonna come if you keep doing that…”
“I don’t care,” you murmur into his neck with a kiss, “Come.”
“What…?” He can’t have heard that right… right?
“I want you to.”
“Jesus…” he breathes out. “I wanna make this last, baby—”
You shake your head again and wrap your legs around him almost demandingly. “I want you to come inside me and fill me the fuck up… want you dripping down my legs… please…”
“Fuck!” The images flash before his eyes faster than he can stop his hands from grabbing you by the hips, slamming himself into you. 
Nor can he stop himself from coming deep inside you.
There’s no way to describe the way he feels at that moment. The way tension peaks and snaps into release. How it brings you into your climax as well. Your lips must be swollen from the assault of your own teeth as you hold back the filthy noises coming out of you. You don’t mind the building ache in your thigh muscles, because as soon as that warmth fills you up, your body is overcome by waves of bliss.
“Fuck…” he flops back onto his side of the bed—the right side—and quickly gathers you in his chest. It’s an effortless little maneuver, making sense at last as you lay half on top of him.
Your hand finds his—more puzzle pieces coming together as he fills the spaces between your fingers. You bring it to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Surprised to find the gold wedding band still adorning his ring finger.
***
9:56 PM
“Was that really your first time since we… you know?” Your murmured question rings loud in the absence of the rain. The storm has finally passed, but neither of you move—neither even dare to bring it up— afraid to ruin the moment. 
“It was.”
“Not even in a casual, ‘no strings attached’ kind of situation?”
“No.” He looks almost embarrassed to admit it, but there is no hesitation in his answer.
“Wow…” your heart sinks. Is it possible to feel good and bad at the same time?
Luca pauses for a moment. You can see the conflict brewing in his head. “Did you?”
You don’t have to answer. The sheer silence you take is an answer enough.
The confirmation feels like shit, but he tries to stay neutral. His thumb stills on the back of your hand. “Can I ask how many?”
“Gosh, does that even matter?” You sigh. There’s another argument coming—you can feel it.
“No, I just… I wanna know.”
“You don’t really wanna know.”
“Is it a lot?”
“I mean…”
“How many?” 
You take in a sharp breath. There’s no way out of this now. If the truth is what he wants, then the truth is what he shall get. “Twelve.”
He tenses up next to you. The whole world stops, and you can’t help but think, it’s over. There is no way this marriage is salvageable now. “What…?”
“I know that it’s a big number, and I know you might be upset—”
“That is a big number.” He doesn’t say anything about the latter part of her sentence, but it’s obvious that he’s upset, too. “I just… why?”
“I was trying to get over you.” It’s a pathetic answer, but that’s all it is to it. “I couldn’t sleep in this bed for months. I just couldn’t. Slept on the guest bed instead,” you motion at the next room, “and then one day, I couldn’t take it anymore. It’s like a switch flipped inside my brain, and I needed to—”
“What?”
“I needed to… overwrite the memories of you,” you admit feebly. “On this bed. On my body.”
Knife, meet heart. He’s not sure what answer he was expecting, but whatever it was, this hurts so much more. “And did it work?”
“Up to a point…” you pause, a sad smile in realization. “It’s funny. I keep getting bits and pieces of you somehow.”
“What do you mean?”
You close your eyes, your memories flashing, reminding you that every single time reminds you of Luca one way or another. “It’s… somebody’s perfume, or the timbre of their voice, or the way they hold my hand…”
“And you see me in them?” 
“Every single one.”
“Jesus…” Luca finds himself relieved and choked up at the same time. He doesn’t want you to ever get rid of your memories of him, but at the same time, it’s painful to hear that you tried anyway.
And you tried very hard.
“I’m sorry.”
He hums, and you realize… he hasn’t let go of your hand. Not once. Not even after your little confession. It makes the argument easier, knowing he’s there. It’ll be easier to part with him again after tonight, you hope, knowing you both did your best to understand. Why you needed to be apart. Why you did the things you did.
The armor has been shed, and the two of you are now naked, in every sense of the word.
Luca turns to look at you, studying your profile. He remembers the last time he was here.
He had just told you about Denmark. Stupid of him to feel excited, to tell you he’d just been offered his dream job, to ask you and Alfie to move someplace new with him, because it turned into a fight.
Worse than a fight; it was a death sentence.
You turned away and stared at the ceiling, and told him you couldn’t do this anymore.
And in some fucked up way, Luca feels as if he’d been brought back in time, and this is his one chance to make it right. So he asks you,
“Do you still love me?” 
You breathe out, heart clenching because in spite of yourself, “I do.”
“Do you want us to try again?”
“Luca…” you sigh heavily, “How would that even work? Alfie and I are here, and you have Noma–”
“No more Noma. I’m giving that up.” The answer is straightforward, and he surprises himself over how easily it rolls off of his tongue. How right.
“What? You wouldn’t…” Your face falls as you turn to him.
“I would. And I am,” he says firmly. “Look, I’ve thought about this for months now. I can’t do Noma anymore, I need to be home.” His gaze softens, and you feel the pattern running on the back of your hand again.
Slow and steady and certain.
The tear rolls off the corner of your eye and onto the pillow with the tiniest drop. “I wanted you to come home…”
“Then let me come home. Please?”
“I want to. I just…” you reach out and cup his face tentatively. “I just want to make sure that we’re not doing anything rash.”
His eyes light up. The only thing that matters is that you want him home, too. It takes him everything to let his logical part of the brain take control. “How about this, then?” Luca pauses thoughtfully. “We’ll take a minute. For me to sort out everything at Noma, find a replacement… and for us to figure out if this is really what we wanna do.
“If it starts to feel like a bad idea, maybe we should rethink it. But if it feels good… maybe we can give it another shot.
“And in the meantime, we’ll talk. We’ll FaceTime and… figure out what the hell to say to our lawyers.”
That makes you grimace. You were supposed to have another meeting with your divorce lawyers. Tomorrow is going to be awkward. But awkward beats saying goodbye to the man you’ve always loved, right? It’s a small price to pay.
“What do you say, baby?” He looks at you with all the hope that he has. “Just give me a minute to get everything sorted and then I’ll come home.”
You smile tearfully. “A minute is not enough… how about a month, hm?”
“Yeah, that makes more sense, actually.” He chuckles sheepishly. “A month. I can do that.”
“Good.” You sidle up to him and kiss him where his heart is. You’re willing to settle for having him just for the night, but you can’t wait until he comes home to you for good.
You hope he will.
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weebsinstash · 9 months
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As much as I want to have children by this man, let's take a moment to sip our platonic yandere Miguel juice
-i can't decide which sex he'd be more partial to in a 'child'/you since in the movie there was Gabriella but in the comics he eventually has a son who becomes the next Spiderman but--
-as a girl i just naturally think of a lot of those sorts of gender specific ideas 👉👈 he's this big scary hulking intimidating threat and his "daughter" is the one melting his cold exterior
-doesnt matter if you're a grown ass woman, Miguel sees you struggling to braid your hair and suddenly here he is, full dad mode, doing it for you,and depending on how close you two are, maybe he disguises it with "ugh, stop spending so much time messing around with that. If I do it for you will you get back to work? 🙄", but really it's just your new self proclaimed dad/tio wanting to help braid your hair and help you feel pretty and, oh, how he can fondly remember the last time he helped braid "his daughter's" hair...
-of course this evolves to him just loving to do things with your hair. Braid it, wear it natural, style it, use products on it, hes got you. you were just trying to put your hair in a lazy updo like a ponytail or bun and this man doesn't let you leave until he's got you completely combed out, hair braided with ribbons, and of course this entire time youre awkwardly sitting there in a chair in his absolute cave of a workstation with this gargantuan 6'9 man there, "so how was your day? Staying out of trouble?"
-really I mean. Is stealing other people's kids NOT technically in character for him. You're unfortunate enough to trauma bond with this man and you're never getting rid of him
-you hear Miles Morales call him tio (as in the tio meaning dude) and you jokingly teasingly start calling him tio, which Miguel secretly pretends is the version that means uncle. You're just constantly joking around or looking up at him with these big pouty eyes, "but tio 🥺 can't I PLEASE--" and its like. Lmao people know that if they need to ask Miguel for a favor, that it increases their chances to have you ask in their stead
- I mean, as a female adult abused as a child by my own father, raised by a single mom myself, like...
Reader flinches away when Peter B goes to give you a supportive pat on the back or comes in for a high five after a mission and you force yourself to laugh because you're feeling more than just a little awkward and in the spotlight. "Oh, sorry, that was dumb!" And they eventually get you to kind of anxiously word vomit "my dad used to just kind of, rough me up sometimes when I did something wrong! It-it could've been a lot worse honestly, but, it-it just makes me kinda jumpy around guys sometimes! It's not a big deal, or personal or anything. I'm sorry if I made you feel bad 🥺"
Peter B, Jessica, and Miguel all there as older parental figures and also literal parents, immediately exchange looks and agree like "oh hell naw, don't like that" and you get silently adopted by all three of em right then and there
-if it's a physically abusive father and you're still the victim of abuse, I imagine your dad had some suspicious figures suddenly show up in the middle of the night to terrify and threaten the shit out of him and suddenly you aren't getting as manhandled anymore
-can you imagine, like, you show up to Spider Society one day with a black eye "oh, this? It's, it's nothing. My dad is just, he's about to make police captain and he's really stressed about it is all" cue all your friends mentally high fiving around the table because your abusive piece of shit dad is going to die and you don't even know. When it happens they'll all be "oh no, sweetie, I'm SOOOO sorry :(" meanwhile they're thrilled bc now you don't have any parents and they can weasel in there as your new family, schedule your birthday parties, monopolizing more of your time, things like that
-goddd I just imagine it could become some kind of weird fucked up enmeshed scenario where the structure it's providing for your life is actually good for you meanwhile Miguel is like, retroactively kind of soothing some of his trauma both from his own childhood and what happened with the second universe he broke that it's just like. You're a grown ass adult and this man is tucking you in goodnight and saying "te amo, mija" at the doorway and you bet his ass is going to stand there and not let you sleep until you say it back. He knows you're just absolutely seething at him and he'll still refuse to leave without a grumbling "te amo, papá 🙄"
-He eventually just has you doing so much shit and depending on him so much that it starts to become second nature to you. one day you're in the Society doing one of the odd jobs you're allowed to help with and suddenly you're thinking, "Ugh I actually don't know what to do next, I wish Papá was here to-- WAIT SHIT NO I MEAN MIGUEL--"
-lmaooooo as a non Spanish speaker I keep thinking of how awwwwwful it would be if he actually forces you to learn Spanish. Not inherently because there's anything wrong with Spanish, but, I'm not always smart, and I can just SEE him quizzing your ass, forcing you to have entire conversations in Spanish, always clicking his tongue or chuckling at you when you make a mistake and he just thinks you're so cute struggling to learn 🥰 man hears you're trying to take extra lessons from Miles and he instantly drops everything he's doing to go track the little scamp down. Insert meme "I can forgive being an anomaly but I draw the line at teaching Reader bad Spanish"
-siiiiiiigh eventually the day comes when you're in big danger and you need his help, maybe you disobeyed him and was hanging out with some other Spiders in another dimension when there was a sudden villain attack, and he comes to your rescue as a villain does something dramatic like has a gun to your head or a knife to your neck and the second you see him you're just overwhelmed wirh a sense of relief, calling out for him, calling him dad/tio/papá whatever, and he's just like 😭❤️ pumping his fist internally, like YES you are so grounded when you get back home but also 🥰 you finally called him dad without him having to twist your arm 🥰 nevermind if the "villain" who kidnapped you was actually a Spider who owed him a favor, and this whole thing was to teach you a lesson about listening to your Papá, that's not important ❤️
-Miguel who forces you to learn Spanish vs Miguel who forces you to be Catholic. I can excuse kidnapping and forced adoption but I draw the line at making me practice religion 💀 no but seriously, he probably does have certain morals and values he instills/forces upon you if he thinks you need them, and he'll probably be one of those fathers, "are you leaving the house dressed like that? Go change" and orders you not to hang out with certain people he doesn't approve of or thinks have bad character (like hobie lmao)
-bruh you two will be on a super serious important mission and this man will be like "it's dark, hold my hand so we dont get separated"
Eventually it comes to a point where you're, not perfectly behaved but, just about. If someone finds Miguel, it means you're not very far away, or vice versa. Members of the Society quickly learn not to make any advances on you or make any "adult" comments unless they want to get suspiciously hurt during a personal training session by the big boss himself. You think you're safe just cause Miguel isn't around? Nah, cause then you have Peter B and Jess keeping an eye on you, and, not that YOU'RE aware of the extent, but, if Miguel ever gets worried, he can just ask Lyla what you've been getting up to, since your modified little daypass has her installed into it and she can track your every move ❤️ helicopter parent? Oh honey, you have NO idea...
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Star Patient: Chapter 4 (ONGOING SLOW BURN SERIES)
WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), and possibly more.
Inaccurate canon-timeline (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents).
Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.
Incest is not Wincest.
Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:
Wordcount: 11,018 words
Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, current chapter, Chapter 5 + 6 (in the works)
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        "Andy."
        "Hey Andy, wake up..."
        "Andrew."
        "Andrew, wake up!" 
        Andrew shot awake, before letting out a hiss, clutching his head as it pounded terribly. He cradled his head, before turning his attention to his bedside, where Ashley stood. 
        "What are you doing here?" Andrew questioned, still holding his head. "You manage to worm your way in here that quickly after getting banned?" 
        "Hospital security sucks." She hummed. "That, or they just hire any idiot off the street."
        "Maybe you can get a job here." Andrew commented sarcastically, earning a half-hearted glare from his sister. "But you still didn't answer my question. Why are you here?" 
        "Well, how are you healing? Are we ready to get out of here?" Ashley questioned, sitting down on his bedside, the uneven distribution of weight on his bed causing his injured legs to shift, making him wince. 
        "I don't know..." he hissed between his teeth as pain shot through his legs and head. "I think it'd be best for me to stay here until I can walk again. We have no where to go when I heal up, and the nurse said I'd have to be bedridden for a few weeks to make sure my legs heal and get strong again." He spoke. "I bet there's probably going to have to be physical therapy too for my legs, so I can walk and crap." 
        "Ugh... healing broken bones takes too long. I feel like a kid watching their grandpa die." She groaned, physically deflating. 
        "What's the rush?" Andrew questioned. "We're out of our old city, and it's not like anyone's following us anymore." 
        Ashley had a look on her face, a flash of hesitancy appeared on her face, gaining Andrew's immediate interest. "I just... I had a dream last night, from the demon, and..." she paused, looking away as she thought what to say.
        "And...? And what?" Andrew questioned, prompting for her to go on.
        "Ah, never mind." She huffed, a little frustrated. "It's not something you can help with, being bedridden and all." 
        "Are you sure?" Andrew questioned, seeming concerned. "You can tell me—" 
        "Don't worry about it, Andy!" Ashley smiled, plastering on a fake smile. "It's nothing too big. So, how are the nurses and doctors treating you?" 
        "Good..." Andrew muttered. 
        He was concerned about Ashley's strange behavior, but he knew that if she didn't want to talk, she sure as hell won't. 
        "They're all fine... Some of the nurses and doctors here are pretty weird, but the one nurse that takes care of me seems pretty nice." Andrew explained. "but, she works in the pediatric branch so I don't see her much." Andrew quickly added, hoping that his lack of time and attention to the nurse would save him from another argument between the siblings.
        "A nurse? Is she pretty?" Ashley questioned, keeping up her innocent smile.
        Andrew knew this trap very well. He opted to look away from her eyes, staring out the window at the daylight outside.
        "No..." he lied. "I wouldn't say that."
        "Really? Even with her pretty (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair?" Ashley questioned.
        When did Ashley meet (Y/N)? Ashley had never been in the hospital during the night, so there's no way she met her inside the hospital.
        "How did you know what she looked like? Did you meet (Y/N)?" Andrew questioned, curious as he turned his gaze back at Ashley.
        "I knew it..." Ashley muttered, a distasteful expression on her face. 
        "What?" Andrew questioned, confused.
        "Don't worry about it." Ashley spoke, standing up from the bed's end, the small movement causing Andrew's legs to hurt a bit. "I'm gonna go grab food. I didn't get any on the way here. I'll see you later, Andrew." Ashley smiled.
        Before Andrew could open his mouth, Ashley walked out of his room, exploring the hospital as she avoided the nurses and security guards who could recognize her. She was able to snatch a scalpel lying in one of the empty doctor offices while a nurse was cleaning the exam table, headphones in her ears as she blasted music. Quite unprofessional really, but it helped Ashley get a weapon that was actually useful rather than an empty handgun. 
        She shoved it in her pocket and waited around the hospital for hours, changing her hiding spot every now and then. She made sure to stay in the pediatric branch, the branch Andrew said that pretty little nurse worked in. In one of her hiding spots, two little boys were rummaging around before they discovered her.
        The two had been looking around for their parents after escaping their hospital rooms, Ashley figured due to them calling out “Mom! Dad!” in the hallways. They got to her hiding spot and opened the white curtain she was hiding behind, looking to see if their parents were behind there (kid logic, it makes no sense).
        Before the two could scream, Ashley quickly covered their mouths with her hands.
        “Don’t be brats now, stay quiet.” She hissed.
        They looked at each other, then her, before nodding. Ashley looked hesitant to let them go, but she didn’t want to be discovered, so she moved her hands from their mouths, wiping her hands on her shirt.
        “Are you a ghost?” one of the kids whispered.
        “No.” She answered, her expression a mix between boredom and displeasure.
        “Are you a nurse?” the other questioned. 
        “No.” Ashley scoffed, her tone almost sounding offended that they had the audacity to say that. “Like I’d work with kids."
        “So, who are you? What are you doing here?” one of the blond boys questioned.
        “I’m playing hide and seek with one of my friends.” She lied. “Leave, you’re gonna give away my hiding spot.” She huffed, grabbing the curtain and closing it to shield her from view.
        Before the kids could ask to play too (having already forgotten their parents), they heard footsteps, followed by a voice.
        “What are you two doing?” a female questioned, her shadow being seen through the curtain. 
        Both of the boys jumped, letting out squeals as they turned to look at her. Ashley grabbed the scalpel she stole out of her pocket, holding it tightly in her hand. Whether it was the she was looking for or not, she’d kill her if she gets discovered.
        “N-nothing! Just… playing!” one of the boys spoke nervously.
        Good… Ashley thought, smirking. 
        “I’m Tom, that’s Jerry.” One introduced themselves.
        “Like the cartoon?” the nurse questioned.
        Funny. Ashley thought sarcastically, rolling her eyes at the joke.
        “Um… yes?” one of them spoke, hesitant in their answer.
        “Well, it sure matches you both, since you sneaked out of your rooms.” The nurse commented. “Who are you talking to?” she questioned.
        Ashley’s grip on the scalpel’s handle tightened, wiggling her shoulders to loosen up a bit in case the nurse got too curious, getting ready to kill her.
        “Come along now.” The nurse spoke.
        Ashley watched the two small shadows walk away from her hiding spot. The nurse stayed for a second, keeping her attention on the curtain, before she guided the two boys away from her. Ashley peeked her head out of the curtain, seeing a nurse with two little boys walking away. The nurse had (h/c) hair, but Ashley couldn’t see the color of her eyes.
        Damn. Ashley thought. I think that was just my target…
        She couldn’t be certain per se, but it was certainly the best description so far. 
        Well, it’s not the end of the world. In fact, it’s probably for the best. If she killed the girl in this hospital, not only could she get medical assistance from others in the hospital if something goes wrong, but it’d be a pain in the ass to hide the body somewhere here too (not to mention the security cameras). If someone died in the hospital, they’d check the security cameras and find Ashley, then Andrew would be in trouble too since Ashley walked in his room and he was left unharmed. 
        If she can’t kill her in the hospital, she’d just kill her at home. She can just hitch a ride in (Y/N)’s car, it’s really not that hard. Ashley can just follow the girl out of the hospital and either threaten her with the empty gun (not like the nurse would know) or she can just unlock her car depending on her car’s model.
        Ashley made sure to follow behind (Y/N) for the rest of the night. Luckily, she didn’t have to wait too long. After rushing out of the staff room, she ran to the elevators. Ashley took the chance to rush down the hallway and slide down the hospital staircase railing, reaching the elevator’s lobby. She followed (Y/N) out of the hospital lobby, following her to her car. 
        (Y/N) unlocked the car and hopped in the driver’s seat, Ashley timing opening and closing the door from her the back passenger side on her right. (Y/N) buckled her seatbelt, turning up the radio to a random jazz station this late at night and sitting in her car, thinking in silence.
        (Y/N) seemed to be muttering to herself, this combined with the radio on allowed Ashley to situate herself onto the car floor, away from (Y/N)’s vision. Maybe if (Y/N) wasn’t so upset, or maybe if she drove in silence without the auditory distraction, she would’ve noticed Ashley behind her; but she didn’t.
        Ashley decided not to kill (Y/N) at the moment. If (Y/N) died, they’d crash and Ashley could potentially die or be hospitalized; which would give her a one-way ticket to jail after they examine (Y/N)’s body and realized she didn’t die from the crash.
        (Y/N) kept muttering as she drove, seemingly annoyed. Ashley was a bit curious of what she was so upset about (Penelope’s potential crush for Andrew, she was upset about) but Ashley stayed quiet; it would be pretty stupid to say “hey, what are you muttering about?” when you snuck into your victim’s car to kill them. 
        The drive wasn’t too long, but to Ashley it felt like an entirety. When the car stopped, (Y/N) turned off the radio and stayed in the car for a few minutes, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she stared into space absentmindedly. She finally let out a sigh, then unlocked her car and hopped out. (Y/N) locked the car and walked to her apartment door on the first floor outside, opening the door and shutting it behind her. 
        Ashley undid the car door lock on the inside, popping up the lock button and carefully exiting the car (after a small heart attack from the inner lights of the car turning on once she opened the door). She made sure there were no people in the parking lot, then she shut the car door behind her and ran up to (Y/N)’s apartment. 
        Ashley walked up to the door, carefully trying the door handle to see if it was unlocked. It was.
        This is almost pathetic how easy it is…
        Either the work day tired her out, or she really has no common sense or street smarts.
        Ashley slinked into the apartment, the house pitch black. (Y/N) didn’t even bother trying to light up the house, now this was starting to get almost sad.
        Ashley crept carefully through the hallway, using her hands to guide her through the dark. Ashley made it to an opening that led into the living room, the only source of light being the window that showed the sun starting to rise.
        (Y/N) was on her back as she laid on her couch, staring up at the ceiling silently, no thoughts seeming to go through her mind.
        Okay, now this is depressing. Very depressing. Ashley almost felt a little sorry taking her life; or, what was left of it really, which wasn’t much it seemed.  
        Ashley carefully walked past the depressed nurse, finding her kitchen. Ashley decided she didn’t want the scalpel anymore and she traded it for a long kitchen knife instead, 8 inches long with a sharp, pointy blade. 
        She held the knife as she explored more of the house, finding (Y/N)’s room. The room was probably the most decorated of the house, with small plotted pants in the window (surprisingly alive, a comparison to their soon-to-be-dead owner). Her room wasn’t decorated much, having a dresser, a closet, a bookshelf of books, a bed, and a desk. Her walls were pretty plain, and she barely had anything on her dresser to hold other than a multimedia center on it.
        Even her bedding was a plain grey, but there were colorful soft plushies that covered the bed to brighten up the room.
        Ashley’s unsure if that’s childish or even more pathetic, needing plushies to replace humans? That’s just depressing.
        Ashley was starting to doubt if it was even worth killing this woman, her life is already pathetic enough as it is. Ashley even contemplated if someone would even miss her. For now, Ashley hid behind the bedroom door and waited for (Y/N) to walk in… whenever she decides to stop sulking on the couch.         .         .
        (Y/N) laid on her couch, staring at the ceiling pathetically. She couldn’t be bothered to think, or even recall her day. Days and week just all just seemed to blur into one now. If one of her patients told her this is how they felt in life, she’d be considered and talk with Doctor Ryan about scheduling an appointment with a therapist; but (Y/N) had been living like this since she was a child. It doesn’t affect her as much as it did when she was a child.
        Being alone doesn’t hurt anymore.
        I need to get up and shower… (Y/N) thought. 
        She turned on her side, staring at her reflection in her TV. She looked pathetic curled up on the couch like that. 
        She wanted to get up and get ready for deal, get rid of all the germs and hazardous matter that was stuck on her clothes and skin, but walking to the bathroom just seemed like a challenge. 
        She groaned, pausing a few seconds, before getting up from her couch and sluggishly walking to her room.
        I just need to shower, eat a meal, then sleep. I should be feeling better tomorrow. She thought, telling herself the same lie she’s told herself for years. 
        She walked down her hallway, a plain hallway. It was nothing but bare wall, just about as empty as she felt here alone. She had no paintings to put up (and deciding what she’d hang up would be too much of a struggle). She didn’t want to hang up any of her awards or accomplishments, they held no meaning if her parents couldn’t see the victory or praise her for it. She had no family pictures, and even if she did, she wouldn’t have felt pride about the woman that would stand in the frame—not herself or her mother.
        She let out a soft sigh, maybe she should get a pet? Sleeping in a bed covered with stuffed animals doesn't really make loneliness any better, just makes sleep more comfortable. Pets are great for depression too! But it'd be so bothersome trying to choose one, yet alone have time for it... maybe she could just get her a reptile, something that can live inside of a habitat and won't need much care; be independent and uncaring to touch, unlike her own needs.
        She opened her bedroom door, flicking on the light switch. She stepped inside, rummaging through her drawers for a comfortable set of pajamas. Ashley stood in the corner, watching (Y/N) from behind the open bedroom door, before she decided to take her chance. 
        She carefully crept behind (Y/N), a kitchen knife in hand, one she stole from (Y/N)'s kitchen since Andrew wasted all the bullets in her gun when he shot that hitman in the park. She was a little nervous, it’d be her first kill without Andrew or the help of her demon friend.
        As much as she’d like to give (Y/N)’s soul to the demon, this felt more like a personal kill. Surely the demon wouldn’t mind too much if Ashley gave them a dead body instead of a living person.
        Ashley raised her knife in the air, planning to hit (Y/N)’s neck. She’d rather make this quick, they’re in an apartment complex so there’s neighbors around; she’d rather not have anyone hear what’s going on.
        Before Ashley could plunge the knife down, (Y/N) turned around, her clothes in hand as she looked at Ashley. Her eyes widened, surprised, before it trailed to the silver blade in her hands.
        “…Hey?” Ashley smiled, feigning an amused smile to hide the nervousness she felt in committing this act alone for the first time.
        “Are you… trying to kill me with my own kitchen knife?” (Y/N) questioned, recognizing the blade almost immediately.
        She even looked a bit annoyed that Ashley had the audacity to kill her with her own knife, her own money and cooking utensil being used against her. That’s indeed a bit frustrating once you push away that fear, recognizing you’re about to die.
        “Uh, yeah?” Ashley confirmed. “Are you gonna fight, or is this gonna be—“ 
        (Y/N) quickly grabbed her bottle of perfume before Ashley could finish her sentence, spraying Ashley in the eyes. 
        Yeah, not easy, it seemed.
        “Fuck!” Ashley hissed, squeezing her eyes shut as she swung her knife rapidly in the air. 
        (Y/N) was trapped between Ashley and the dresser, trying to avoid the knife before it slashed her forearm. (Y/N) took the chance, using her dresser for leverage as she placed her foot on the dresser for a boost, smashing her shoulder into Ashley’s chest, pushing her away. 
        Ashley stumbled on the ground, the knife laying next to her as her eyes stung from the potent citrusy perfume. (Y/N) rushed past Ashley, but Ashley heard her steps and reached out. With luck, she successfully grabbed (Y/N)’s leg and tripped her, resorting in her falling right next to Ashley. 
        “Fucking bitch.” Ashley hissed venomously, feeling for her knife through her blurred vision.
        She felt the cold blade, reaching a bit lower and grabbing the handle, keeping a strong hold of it. She kept ahold of (Y/N)’s leg as she stabbed her calf, hitting bone. 
        A terrible sharp and tingling sensation shot through (Y/N)’s leg, seeing white for a second as the pain caught up. (Y/N) let out a gasp, verging on a scream, before Ashley raised the knife once more, plunging it in a spot near the  first wound.
        (Y/N) reached back and kicked Ashley in the face a few times, resulting in Ashley letting go of (Y/N)’s foot. Ashley groaned, standing up from the ground as (Y/N) clutched her leg, knowing it wouldn’t be wise to try and stand up in case of any tearing or excessive bleeding. It’s not like she could run far now.
        Ashley stood over her, tears in her eyes as she did her best to see through them and fight the stinging. They both glared at each other, needing no words to show their distaste in one another.
        “I wouldn’t have to do this if you would’ve just stayed away from Andrew.” Ashley spoke, glaring down at her.
        “Not my fault he prefers me. Maybe if you weren’t so obsessive and insecure he could somewhat tolerate your sorry ass.” (Y/N) retorted, a pained smile on her face to piss Ashley off.
        “You’re one to talk.” She chuckled. “Must be real nice to come home alone, pathetically lounging around lazily.”
        “I’m lazy because of hard work. What do you do for a living other than blowing heads and giving it?” (Y/N) chuckled at her vulgar comment (one with lack of evidence, but it wasn't supposed to be a fact), a smile on her face as she observed Ashley. “Doesn’t take much to use that mouth of yours, considering how big it is from all that big shit you talk.” 
        If Ashley wasn’t mad now, she was absolutely livid now at (Y/N)’s insult. She bent down and grabbed a fistful of (Y/N)’s hair, grabbing a fistful of it as she dragged (Y/N) up. (Y/N) stood on her one leg, keeping any weight off her injured one as Ashley glared at her.
        “I can’t wait to kill you. I’ll even bring your head to Andrew so he could see how pathetic you look with your eyes rolled back and tongue hanging out. Hell, I think I’ll cut that tongue out after I’m done with you, that way you can’t bother the devil with it.” She hissed. 
        “You gonna eat it after? Have your own tongue-action with me since you’re so jealous?” (Y/N) chuckled. “Or would you rather that with your own brother? That’s pretty disgusting, if you ask me. Mommy and daddy didn’t give you enough attention so you had to resort to your own brother.”
        Yes, because (Y/N) definitely had a healthy relationship with her parents to say that...
        “I would never eat you. You’re too salty, and that’s not just your attitude too.” Ashley smirked. “After I cut your tongue out and take your head to Andrew, I’ll give your soul to that demon for some vision, then I’ll dump your body in some alley for some homeless man to use.” 
        “Demon?” (Y/N) questioned. “Of course you’d have connections with demons.” 
        “What can I say?” Ashley smiled as a stabbing sensation hit (Y/N)’s stomach. “I get around.”
        “Yeah…” (Y/N) groaned, a pained chuckle escaping her. “I can tell…” 
        Ashley took the knife out of (Y/N’s stomach, going to plunging again, but (Y/N) quickly used her nails and smashed them into Ashley’s eyes, kneeing Ashley with her injured leg since she couldn’t use her healthy once because she’d just fall once applying pressure to her injured leg.
        Ashley let out a short scream at the feeling. Ashley tumbled backwards as (Y/N) followed, using her weight to hold Ashley down as Ashley thrashed about. Ashley tried to stab (Y/N) again, but (Y/N) grabbed her wrists, the two of them struggling for the knife.
        “Let go!” Ashley shouted, one of her eyes covered by (Y/N)’s sharp thumb.
        “You first!” (Y/N) retorted, knowing very well the both of them wouldn't give up as she moved her other hand to the knife, now having both of her hands to try and fight for the knife. (Y/N) ignored the stinging in her forearm from earlier’s slashing.
        (Y/N) was able to grab the knife from Ashley’s hands after a bit of a struggle and a few small cuts on the finger. She held onto the blade tightly as Ashley tried to keep (Y/N)’s wrist steady. It was proven fruitless as the first stab hit Ashley’s chest, hitting bone. Ashley let out a choked sob, pain pooling out of her mouth and chest.
        (Y/N) scoffed, a bit annoyed at Ashley's struggle. If Ashley would just keep still, it wouldn’t hurt as bad. She was willing to make it quick, but Ashley’s squirming and thrashing around was only making her miss.
        “Stop moving.” (Y/N) hissed, using her injured hand to hold Ashley still by her neck.
        (Y/N) struck the knife down again, stabbing Ashley’s sternum. And again, she stabbed her chest, over and over as Ashley let out pained groans and small whimpers, doing her best to claw (Y/N)’s hands. Her hands weakened, her protests and strangled breaths shortening as her pulse weakened under (Y/N)’s hold while (Y/N)’s pulse and breaths only quickened, as if Ashley was giving her own life to her.
        She kept stabbing...
        She kept stabbing...
        She kept stabbing.
        It was like she couldn’t control her hand, like she had no thought other than the echo in her ears.
        Stab…
        Stab…
        Stab.
        She didn’t stop until her hand was soaked, too wet to hold the knife right. She realized she had been stabbing all the way down to the hilt, eight inches that was repeatedly stabbing into Ashley’s chest.
        (Y/N) paused, staring down at Ashley’s face, both faces void of emotion and thought. 
        I did that. She realized.
        A sick turning sensation lurked in her stomach, making her realize she was stabbed in an vital point. She dropped her knife, groaning as she hissed. She got up off Ashley’s dead body, crawling her way to her bathroom, making sure not to get any blood on her carpet. It would've been better for her if Ashley just kept the knife in her stomach, keeping the wound plugged in, but unfortunately Lady Luck seems to avoid (Y/N) any chance she can. 
        She opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a med-kit. Well, that’s one thing useful about being a nurse, you’re always prepared at home.
        She opened the kit, but paused. She couldn’t just open up her stomach and stitch up the insides, but if she goes to the hospital like this she’d definitely get questioned. (Y/N) groaned, mulling over what she should do. 
        She didn’t mean to kill Ashley. Well, she did in self-defense, but she didn’t mean to do it so cruelly. It was almost like second-nature to harm her.
        But she deserved it, didn’t she? She hurt Andrew, (Y/N) remembers that. Ashley made him jump, she’s the one that broke his legs and gave him internal bleeding in his head. (Y/N) made not know much about Ashley, but she knows how manipulative she is. She remembered hearing Ashley screaming at Andrew the first day she met Andrew. She remembered Ashley accusing Andrew of all the crimes he did; of course, he committed them, but she helped too, so she was still at fault. 
        The Graves siblings, even their name is fitting. Two siblings who put others in their graves, and now one is in their own. 
        (Y/N) couldn’t go to the police, not with this. It was self-defense, maybe with the intent of third-degree murder, a spur of the moment, nevertheless it was to protect herself even if she did get a bit carried away. She surely can’t just blame it all on stress or childhood neglect, she’d be a hypocrite.
        She always refused to let her past get in the way of her future. The love she didn’t receive from her parents, she gave to herself. The support she never received from her parents, she gave to herself. She earned all her awards, her scholarships, her jobs, her money all on her own without any support, encouragement, or financial aid from her parents.
        Her mother didn’t believe she could be a nurse. Her mother never really had any faith in her, but her mother never did stick around her long enough to bother learning who were daughter was.
        “You’re far too apathetic and antisocial for that sort of thing, they'd be scared of you.” Her mother would say. “All you care about is yourself. You’d be fired within the first week for neglecting the kids..”
        Ironic coming from her.
        Her father didn’t want her to be a nurse either, not for pediatrics or adults. 
        “It’s just not a good idea. You’re too sensitive for such things. You couldn’t survive watching kids die everyday, that’s such a depressing job.” Her father would say. “You shouldn’t be a nurse in general. Adult men take advantage of caring nurses, it doesn’t help that you’re so... weak? You're just too innocent and pretty for that kind of work! It’s best you find something else. Do something that makes you happy!” 
        Yeah, she totally refuse to let her past get in her way... Her apartment was as void of color as her. She slept with plushies to cope with her loneliness. On bad days, she has no friends to call or parents who'd listen to her vent, so the stuffed animals listen to her instead. She doesn't ever have energy to eat or shower or clean, the only reason she does all those things is to keep herself somewhat healthy so she wouldn't draw any attention from others. She wouldn't want to be a bother to them over some measly emotions. She's dealt with depression practically her whole life, why suddenly indulge in change if it might worsen her condition. 
        She doesn't want to be happy, that would involve having to put energy into changing herself and her lifestyle, and all she wants to do is spend her energy hopping into bed and sleeping. She wasn't one to care for herself, she liked making other people happy. 
        Kids made her happy. Medicine made her happy. She loved working with kids, caring and nurturing for them like they were her own. She liked being the reason a kid could walk again, or talk, or play, or smile. She liked helping children, giving them the help they needed. She liked being able to change their lives, catch those early signs and prevent them from becoming herself; someone absolutely miserable, depressed, and hating herself. Hell, the only reason she hasn't killed herself was because she doesn't want to be a bother to other people. 
        She liked medicine. She liked studying medical advancements, all the new machines and inventions and vaccines and diseases and all! She liked learning about it all; medical procedures, illnesses and disorders, psychology facts, disorders, injuries, hell sometimes medicine could even dive into philosophy! 
        Medicine and kids made her happy because it was what she lacked as a child. She liked being a pediatric nurse, she liked giving kids the chance to receive help early on so they could be functional adults in life, so they couldn't end up like (Y/N); a mother who couldn't care about her, a misguided father, money being towards bills and education, no relationships or genuine connections or friendships with people, and no joy in life other than sleeping her days away. As a nurse, she could catch onto early symptoms for kids and be able to address the issues before it worsen; whether it'd be physical or mental health, that's why she's studying to be a pediatrician now. 
        But she can't be a pediatrician if she goes to jail. This act of self-defense was far too cruel and grotesque, the judges wouldn't believe that it was for self-defense, far too homicidal and beast-like with how she basically just slashed Ashley's ribcage open. No, she wouldn't win that court case at all. She'd lose her job, and she'd probably never be able to work in medical field ever! She needed to do something.
        She put the med-kit back into her cabinet, instead she took off her shoe and grabbed her sock, plugging up her wound with it. Yes, it was very gross and she felt like gagging at this, but it was to insure she wouldn't bleed out. She had been stabbed in her stomach with an 8-inch knife, so no doubt there would be internal damage she couldn't patch up on her own. She used her other sock to plug in the hole on her right calf, plugging the wound up until it was stuffed despite the pain she felt digging her fingers into the wound. She put back on her shoes without her socks and stood up from the ground
        She quickly got to work, grabbing two large black blankets. She wrapped up Ashley's body in both blankets, ensuring the blood wouldn't drip everywhere, and she dragged the body to her car. She put the body and knife in her trunk and limped back into her house, quickly mopping up the mess using hydrogen peroxide on her floors to completely get rid of all the blood. She put her phone on her charger at home, leaving it so the police couldn't track her location on her phone in case anything happens. She got in her car and drove, going further and further out of the city until a good distance away, going to the woods. She got the dead body and knife out of her car, dragging it a good ways into the dark woods before dropping it. 
        She couldn't leave the body in her apartment, and she couldn't just drop it off somewhere in the city when her DNA was under Ashley's fingernails when Ashley scratched her. She left the knife here too, she didn't want to keep a knife she almost got murdered with, and she didn't want to keep it as a trophy for her crimes either. Here in these woods, this is where the police will least likely find her and the murder weapon, at least for tonight. Tomorrow, (Y/N) will return and dig a grave for her, or maybe she'll luck out a wild animal will feast on her. Even then, nobody will probably miss her other than Andrew.
        Jesus, what is she gonna tell Andrew? She can't just say she killed his sister! Even if he's a runaway criminal, she's one too now! He's probably not against murdering her, even if he doesn't like her better than the other nurses. I mean, she killed his sister, so it's only natural for him to kill her?
        But, his sister was just a runaway, she was a criminal! Maybe there's no police looking for them, but still! (Y/N) was a nurse, she's saved plenty of lives, surely taking one can't be that bad? Especially if she took a wrongdoer's life? 
        Before she could turn around and walk out of the woods, she stopped, pausing. She had this nagging feeling to check Ashley’s pockets. It was like a gut instinct (or perhaps literally being gutted earlier) that told her to check. She got on the ground, undoing the blankets and checking Ashley’s pockets to sate this desire. She first found a gun in her waistband. (Y/N) took the gun, popping out the magazine to check how many rounds there were.
        None, empty. Either Ashley found this gun with no bullets, or she already used them.
        (Y/N) did some more digging and found a scalpel, a hospital scalpel from her work she could only assume. Perhaps Ashley was planning to kill (Y/N) with the small blade, before deciding to steal her kitchen knife instead. The bigger the better, right?
        Finally, she looked in Ashley's pockets once more and found something in one of her pockets. Some black and red occult looking charm.
        She remembered Ashley mentioning how she’d give a demon (Y/N)’s soul in exchange for a vision. Is this their charm that keeps them in contact, or in a contract together? Whatever it was, (Y/N) felt like she should keep it in case it was indeed something to a demon; she didn’t want it going into the wrong hands (as if she could talk). (Y/N) shoved the charm into her pocket, keeping the gun and scalpel now that it had her fingerprints, before turning around.
        Did you see this coming, Ashley? (Y/N) thought, resisting the urge to let a smug smirk form on her face. 
        She limped back out of the woods, hopping into her car and hiding the two weapons under her car seat away from view. She turned the engine on, speeding to the hospital and going ten above the speed limit. It wasn't good for her to be out for so long. She could live with her leg being injured so long as she didn't bleed out, but her stomach could definitely develop to internal bleeding, if not already due to how big that knife was. On her way there, she tried thinking of an alibi. This is a knife wound, so it's mandatory for the hospital staff to report this incident to the police. The police are going to ask her questions about what happened and such. (Y/N) doesn't want to come clean, if she does, her whole life would be ruined! She'd lose the only thing she has in her life that she genuinely cares about; her job. If she loses her job and education, she'd be completely lost in this world with absolutely no passions or interests, she might just develop an interest for putting herself in a grave instead and take her life. 
        She thought about her alibi, before cooking up a shitty one. It's the only one she has for a time like this. She can just say that she was driving to the small local store near her apartment complex after work (thus explaining her hospital scrubs), and when she walked out, she was harassed by a man so she fought him and escaped, then drove to the hospital to get medical assistance. She could say she didn't recognize the man, and that he wore a mask so she couldn't see what he looked like. The store she was thinking about just had their cameras stolen a week ago and they have't bother replacing them yet, so there would be no camera footage to confirm or deny this accusation. Her apartment complex is on a bad side of town too (the rent was cheap there), and their camera footage must not be any higher than a quality of a Nokia, so it most likely didn't catch Ashley sneaking into her apartment, or (Y/N) dragging something out out her apartment. Maybe she can pull this off!
        Sure, it's a bad excuse, but what else does she have? This is the best she can come up with on short notice, especially with no witnesses (which is good), along with no camera footage to protect or challenge her word. They'd just have to believe her because what else can they do? She's obviously injured! People in big cities get stabbed all the time and sometimes the assaulters get away with it, maybe she can do this too! 
        (Y/N) got to the hospital entrance and quickly made sure to do a check in her car to make sure there was no DNA of Ashley's. She hopped out of the car and brushed off any dirt or hair or such on her, making sure her gun and scalpel were hidden under her car seat, before limping into the hospital lobby and getting inside of the ER waiting room. 
        The receptionist sat doing work on her computer before her eyes trailed to (Y/N). 
        “Are you okay?” they questioned as (Y/N) held onto her stomach, applying pressure to the sock.
        “I got stabbed in the stomach and my calf. I’ve been bleeding for quite a while, I reckon I’ll pass out soon.” She explained. 
        The nurse nodded and handed her the paperwork to complete. (Y/N) always thought paperwork in the ER was stupid, but it was to help identify the patient and their insurance and all that important information; even in the brink of death, you need to do work. Pathetic, really. It truly does show something about society, whether it's for your own good or not, even if your writing is alienated due to all of your blood on the paper or your blurred vision making it hard to concentrate. 
        (Y/N) sped through the packets of papers and agreements, doing her best to not bleed onto the paper or the hospital chairs (why are the chairs made of cloth instead of leather anyways? At least leather can be washed easier).
        (Y/N) gave the papers to the receptionist, who accepted it and gave it to one of the doctors at the back room. (Y/N) sat down and waited for a doctor to call her name. Her stomach and leg hurt badly, it hurt to breathe and to walk, and her wounds just kept throbbing, spilling more blood and soaking up her temporary sock-bandages. She’s definitely going to throw away these socks…
        The hospital’s bright LED lights hurt her eyes, giving her a headache. Or maybe the headache was from blood loss? Who knows really, it just hurt to sit here and wait.
        Luckily, she didn’t have to wait too long before a nurse called her name. They helped her stand up from the chair, leading her to their office in quick fashion. They placed her down on the operating table, asking if she could remember her name, age, where she was, who the president was, etc.
        “I’m (Y/N) (L/N), 22 years old. I got stabbed in my stomach by a knife, along with my right calf and a laceration on my right arm.” She informed the nurse as they put on medical gloves.
        A trauma surgeon came in with a tray of alcohol wipes, a medical needle and thread, a medical stapler, and syringe of anesthesia. (Y/N) resisted the urge to groan, she didn’t like needles, but she understood it would make the surgery much easier for her and them.
        (Y/N) rolled up her sleeves hesitantly, feeling self-conscious about the old scars on her wrists despite the more important matters at hand. The surgeon ignored her scars as he gave her the shot. 
        The surgeon pulled up her shirt to show her stomach as the nurse cut a hole on (Y/N)’s pants for her leg, making her remember the make-shift bandages she had.
        “I had to use what I had to stop the bleeding, so I used my socks.” She spoke for her lie. 
        She would’ve said more, but she decided it was best not to in case she accidentally messed up her alibi. She opted to stay quiet, waiting for the anesthesia to take effect so the doctor could begin the quick surgery. 
        .
        .
        When you wake up from surgery or an accident, you’d expect to see bright light, instead she only saw a dim light peeking through. She opened her eyes, waking up and looking around her.
        There was a curtain next to her, the white curtain had a slit and moonlight poured out, barely lighting the room. Her left arm was hooked to a IV, the needle sticking into the crevice of her elbow. The needle was slowing flowing blood into her, causing her to shudder at the thought of a needle stuck inside her.
        Her eyes trailed down to her right arm, seeing her arm covered in bandages. She picked up her sheets, seeing her leg was covered in bandages too. She moved her hospital gown up, seeing her stomach was covered with a medical patch and medical tape to hold it in place.
        This is probably going to take some time to heal. (Y/N) thought, resisting the urge to groan. 
        How fun, she’s going to spend weekend off here in the hospital. Either that, or she’ll stay home bedridden. 
        There was a soft knock on her door, before it opened, showing one of the doctors from the emergency department of the hospital. She had never met any of the doctors or nurses here, they’re always busy and on their feet running around. 
        “Ms. (L/N)?” he questioned, smiling.
        “That’s me.” She nodded. “Hello, sir.” 
        “Hey! Have you just woken up?” he questioned, a clipboard and pen in his hand as he walked over to her bedside, standing over her.
        “Yes.” She confirmed. 
        “Okay.” He commented, then cleared his throat. “So, you’ve been asleep for 18 hours. Usually anesthesia wears off in a few hours and you would wake up from some pain, but you stayed asleep for quite some time.” He spoke, flipping a page threw his papers clamped on his clipboard. “However, you could’ve been exhausted given you hadn’t slept because you were working earlier. Your medical history could’ve also helped contribute to that—hypersomnia and all.”
        Yes, the condition she’s almost positive her mother gave her. Being locked in that small room as a toddler really did affect her sleep patterns and routine. There wasn’t much to do in that dark room other than cry, watch old cartoon re-runs a thousand times, and sleep—she chose the latter. 
        “Yeah, sorry.” She muttered, not sorry at all but still feeling the need to apologize.
        “No worries. So, we did report your case to local authorities since it was a stabbing; you should know, hospital procedure and all.” The doctor spoke as (Y/N) nodding, knowing very well the protocol. “Great. So, there’s actually some officers here to question you about the incident. Are you fine with that?” 
        She nodded, ignoring her nerves that went haywire at the thought of talking to the police. So soon after her crime too! 
        “Okay, so before they come in. Let me explain to you really quick what’s going on.” He spoke, clearing his throat. “So you’re going to stay overnight, well more so over day since it’s 2 A.M. But we’ll look after you. So we stapled up your small intestine, and we stapled the skin of your stomach so that it wouldn’t rip or come undone in a large area like stitches would. Your right calf and right arm were both stitched up too. After two week, you can come back and we’ll remove the staples off your stomach and the sutures. For the next two weeks, you need to eat soft foods and liquids such as soups, breads, puddings, all that."
        “That sounds fine.” She nodded. 
        “Sweet. So, before they come in, is there anything you want or need? Like, do you need to use the bathroom? Or are you hungry or thirsty?” he questioned.
        “No, I’m fine.” she politely denied. 
        She’d rather not drink or eat anything, she felt like throwing up at the moment. She really didn’t feel like getting up and walking to the bathroom with an injured foot at the moment.
        “Okay. I’ll let the officers in.” The doctor nodded, writing a few notes on his clipboard before heading towards the door.
        He opened the door and used his hand to call the officers over. He left the door open as the officer walked in, a female and a male, who walked to (Y/N)’s bedside holding a notepad.
        “Hello, Ms. (L/N), right?” the female smiled. “I’m Officer Jenny and this is my partner, Officer Dixon. We have a few questions for you.” 
        “Nice to meet you.” (Y/N) spoke, flashing the officers a polite smile.
        “So, you’ve been admitted into the hospital for a stabbing, correct?” Officer Jenny questioned.
        “That’s correct, ma’am.” (Y/N) nodded.
        “When and where did you get stabbed?” Officer Jenny questioned.
        “Well, I got stabbed in my stomach by a knife. When I fought them off, they slashed my right arm and they stabbed my right calf.” (Y/N) explained, mentally going over her words carefully as Officer Dixon wrote the information in his notepad.
        “And when did this take place?” Officer Jenny questioned. 
        “Well, it was last night when I got off my shift. I work here at this hospital actually in the pediatric branch.” She added. 
        She was about to go on about her grocery store alibi, but paused. The timeframe won’t match. She took forever to get to the hospital after the stabbing so that she could clean her apartment, dispose of Ashley’s body, and finally get to the hospital. She can’t use the grocery store alibi since not only would be make no sense for her to get stabbed someplace where the cameras are coincidentally shut down, but none of the store employees would mention seeing her when they get questioned by the police, and it wouldn’t help that she decided to drive to the hospital bleeding instead of telling the store to call 911 or herself calling 911. 
        Her alibi is unreliable now, so she needs to quickly act now and change it while acting normal and resist hesitating. The officers’ body-cams would catch their interaction and it would be evaluated by licensed psychiatrists, looking out for any holes in the story, for how her words flow, her vocal patterns, her body language. The alibi is now a death trap.
        “After my shift, I drove back to my apartment and went on a walk in a park. Perhaps 7 P.M, so it was dark because of it being November and all.” She explained. “The park was Pacific North Satellite park.” She added, a park not too far from her apartment complex. 
        “I didn’t bother changing out of my work scrubs because I was just going to shower when I got back to my apartment, and I had left my phone on the charger at home. I was walking down the path listening to nature when I heard footsteps in front of me. Someone came up to me with their hands in their hoodie pocket, a black hoodie.” She explained, lying her way through the story. “They walked past me and quickly slashed my right arm… and… they grabbed my arm and stabbed me in the stomach with their knife… and then when I tried to get away… they knocked me down and stabbed my right calf.” She spoke, pausing her words every now and then to appear distressed as she faked reliving the moment. "I ran back to my apartment, plugged up the most severe wounds with my socks, and drove to the hospital since it wasn't too far and I didn't have my phone to call the police or ambulance. It was late at night, so there wasn't anyone around to ask for help, and I didn't want to be trapped in my apartment in case they decided to follow me...
        “Do you know who they were? Or did you catch what their face looked like?” Officer Jenny questioned as Office Dixon’s blurred, hastily writing down everything he heard.
        “No.” (Y/N) shook her head. “They had a black hoodie with their hood up. They had grey jeans too. They were perhaps around 5’6 tall…” she lied. “I’m unsure of their gender, but I think they were male.” 
        The most common description of a killer, or stereotypical when comparing to Ted Bundy or Jeffery Dahmer. With so little information, it’d be pretty hard to try and identify someone, especially someone who doesn’t exist (but of course, only [Y/N] knows that).
        “Do you think there could’ve been a specific motive or something you provoked?” Officer Jenny questioned, her question almost making (Y/N) scoff.
        Provoke? Provoke? How the hell could I have provoke them? (Y/N) thought, almost forgetting her alibi was still a lie.
        Sometimes she can even lie to herself with how scarily believable her lies are.
        But even if this mysterious murderer she made up didn't have a motive, did Ashley have one? It made her wonder, did Ashley really kill her because she was hated her being Andrew’s nurse? Even then, how the hell did she find out who she was, or even why? Ashley had never seen (Y/N) and Andrew together, at least not without her knowledge. 
        “No, ma’am. I’m unsure why, and I don’t believe I provoked them.” (Y/N) answered.
        “Is there any other information you’d like to tell us?” Officer Jenny questioned.
        “No.” (Y/N) answered.
        Short and sweet, it’s best to leave it all like this.
        “Well, if you ever remember anything or have any questions, make sure to call the department.” Officer Jenny spoke. “If we find any information or such, we’ll give you a call.” 
        “If we find who done it, do you want to press charges?” Officer Dixon questioned, causing (Y/N) to pause and think.
        “No. The process is too time-consuming, besides, I doubt they tried to kill me without a reason.” (Y/N) spoke. 
        Everything happens for a reason, after all. It’s logical to believe so.
        (Y/N) had never believed in fate or destiny, she had always believed everything happens for a reason. She hated the belief of something out of her reach trying to control her or her life. She’d rather choose what she wants to do, not something like fate. (Y/N) believes what she sees, so she doesn’t believe anything that isn’t backed up with facts or evidence. 
        Ashley tried killing (Y/N) for a reason, she said it herself. She'll take the dead woman's word on it since it came from her mouth.
        “I wouldn’t have to do this if you would’ve just stayed away from Andrew.” Her words rang in (Y/N)'s head.
        The audacity of some people, does Ashley truly believe she can control who Andrew sees? It’s not like there was anything wrong with Andrew and (Y/N)’s relationship, they were simply nurse and patient, nothing more and nothing less. Who does Ashley believe she is trying to control Andrew? She doesn’t have his heart, his brain, his body, his thoughts, his mouth, his eyes. He could do whatever he pleases and Ashley shouldn’t be able to do anything about it.
        Well, she can’t now. (Y/N) thought, holding back a chuckle. 
        "Are you sure, miss?” Officer Dixon questioned, surprised.
        “I’m sure. Maybe they had a bad day or something.” (Y/N) shrugged.
        “But you don’t just stab anyone on a bad day, this could be serious.” Officer Jenny spoke, her voice a little harsh compared to her gentle treatment earlier.
        Officer Jenny seems to not like having a killer run around, or have about zero clues.
        “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” (Y/N) sighed. "I'm very tired and I wish to rest.
        “The town next to us, they had a killing in a park too. The victim was a man, he was shot, multiple bullets in his chest.” Officer Jenny spoke quickly, hoping the information could bring some details out of the injured woman. “You happened to be a park too, perhaps this was the same guy! We need as much information as we can. Please miss (L/N), we’re relying on you.”
        “I’m sorry, but I truly don’t know. I don’t have anymore information to give to you.” (Y/N) sighed.
        Officer Jenny’s face hardened as Officer Dixon closed his notepad.
        “Very well. We’ll contact you in case we find any details.” Officer Dixon spoke, nodding his head down in respect and farewell, before telling Officer Jenny with his eyes that it was time to go.
        “Get well soon, miss…” Officer Jenny sighed, walking out of the room with her partner.
        Well, I forgot that part… (Y/N) thought, letting out a breath of relief.
        The park killer from the next door town, right, how could she forget? The victim was a man was found dead on the sidewalk, a clean knife nearby him, no fingerprints. The man had a hood, sunglasses, and gloves; a strange attire to walk around in at night, especially the sunglasses part. He died with six bullet wounds in his chest, the news said. The murder was actually a few days ago, maybe even a week ago. Nevertheless, (Y/N) could bet it was Ashley and Andrew. Ashley had that empty gun on her, which was now under (Y/N)’s car seat. 
        (Y/N) turned her head to the window once the police left. She reached over and opened up the curtains, looking up at the stars, or what she could see. Light pollution in the city is a major pain, you can’t even enjoy nature now thanks to humans.
        (Y/N) looked at the lights outside of the window, it’s the only thing semi-interesting to look at in a hospital bed. She didn’t want to turn on the TV, she knew it was all just re-runs of family-friendly movies like High School Musical or the local news. Unfortunately, hospitals don’t really have any good channels to watch.
        It’s only for one day. (Y/N) thought.
        She just had to deal with this for one day, then she could get back home and sleep. Despite always being so tired, she liked to work. The time she’d take to heal would feel like torture to her. Her depression made her feel a sense of worthlessness doing nothing, so being bedridden is just going to throw her in a depressive state. Usually she’d just get up and work overtime when she feels like this, but she really can’t if she’s injured. 
        Even though she has a reason to be lazing around in bed all day, she's not very happy about it. It's at times like these she wished she had some sort of entertainment in life, or at least friends, people she considered real friends. She had acquaintances growing up, but they just never really did it for her.
        The people she hung around with was only for school, she never bothered hanging out with them outside of school that way she could focus on her studies. Besides, they weren't important people to her, she only talked with them because they had conversed with her first, and it gave her something to pass time with at school. She always did have that closed-off demeanor, it surprised her whole family when she decided she wanted to be a pediatric nurse, and later a pediatrician. 
        (Y/N) stared at the window in deep thought, thinking.
        Maybe she could call her dad. The last time she called him was a month ago, to which she had to leave a voicemail... she never did receive a call back. And after that, she called on her birthday four months... to which she's still waiting for a call back. 
        Well, maybe he's just busy. He has a job and a life outside of his daughter, surely he'll call back eventually. She figured. 
        If she had her phone on her, she'd call and leave another voicemail for him to let him know he's okay.
        Wait, what's the point in calling? She's fine, and she hadn't called him of her condition, so what's the point in calling and telling him that she's still alive? Even if he did answer, what will he say other than a "that's good. I'm glad you're okay. I have to get back to work now." 
        If there's no point calling her dad, then there's certainly no point in calling her mom, for obvious reasons.
        (Y/N) groaned, hitting her head back against the pillow, before letting out a pained whine. Her head pounded terribly, followed by a slight ringing in her ears and a second of her vision blurring. Her right arm shot up to help soothe her head, before she let out a hiss, the movement of her arm causing a sharp pain to shoot up it. 
        "This sucks..." she complained, a pout making way onto her lips. 
        Before she could wallow in her sorrows any further, the door opened, gaining her attention. She turned her head, seeing a familiar man in a wheelchair.
        "Andrew?" she questioned, surprised. 
        "Hey." He greeted, flashing a smile at her.
        (Y/N) internally cringed at the sight of him, not that he was bad-looking or anything, but she wasn't expecting to see him so soon after what she's done. 
        "What are you doing here in the emergency department?" (Y/N) questioned, not bothering if the question sound a bit rude or not; she'll just blame it on the headache if he asks.         
        "I heard from the nurses that you got injured." Andrew explained, rolling his wheelchair up to her bedside.
        "A nurse told you I was here?" (Y/N) questioned, confused.
        Well, that's against hospital policy, giving away patient information like that to just anyone. It made her curious who from the nightshift had the audacity to tell him.
        "Who told you?" (Y/N) questioned.
        "Eh, I don't know. That nurse I had before you." He shrugged his shoulders carelessly, not bothering to remember the name. "It was something something. Started with a P. Maybe it was Pen, or Penny? Or was it Nancy? It doesn't really matter."
        "Penelope?" (Y/N) smiled, almost giggling at his poor attempt to remember the nurse's name. 
        Right, makes sense. Penelope was Andrew's nurse before (Y/N), and Penelope seems to see (Y/N) as a friend, so she probably questioned Doctor Ryan where (Y/N) was. Doctor Ryan must've been informed as soon as he entered the office, considering he wasn't going to be able to teach (Y/N) for a few nights until she got better.
        However, she felt a little happy that he couldn't remember Penelope's name (especially after [Y/N]'s little jealous episode from earlier at the thought of Penelope and Andrew being together. Obviously because she just enjoyed having Andrew as a patient, nothing more).
        "Yeah, maybe that was her name?" he hummed, not bothering to think back if it was actually that nurse or not. 
        Yes, it was Penelope, he might not bother to remember her name, but he remembers her face from earlier when he and (Y/N) had gone to the staff room and Penelope was acting strange. He also remembered how tight and uncomfortable she had done his bandages on his broken ankles, much different compared to (Y/N)'s soft hands and nurturing personality. 
        "She shouldn't be giving away information like that." (Y/N) sighed, chuckling softly. "But thank you for coming."
        It was a little heartwarming to know at least someone cared about her. Even if her parents did, at least her co-worker and close acquaintances did, even reserved patients such as Andrew were worried about her!
        "So, what brought you over here? Did you have a question, or perhaps you need your bandages changed?" (Y/N) questioned, observing his body up and down to see if there was anything out of the ordinary or if he needed any assistance. 
        "No... I just... wanted to see for myself, I guess..." he muttered, looking away from her eyes as he resisted the urge to squirm under her gaze. "I heard you got hurt pretty bad, so I got curious..."
        "You sure you didn't just miss me?" she teased, trying to brightened up or at least lightened the mood into a more comfortable atmosphere. 
        "Don't get ahead of yourself." He chuckled, her words succeeding in her goal as they both smiled at each other.
        His smile softened, his eyes glazing over, seeming to be lost in thought. He seemed unsure of himself, before he just sighed. 
        "So... what happened?" he questioned. "If you don't mind me asking."
        Her own smile faltered, doing her best to remain neutral and not puke her guts out as visions of stabbing Ashley's lifeless body took over her mind, hearing each explicit and disturbing wet splash as her hands slowly started to coat with blood from how violently she was pushing her knife into Ashley's chest, down to the hilt. 
        "I got attacked..." she spoke vaguely, clearing her throat awkwardly as she kept her eyes on him to see if he would believe her. 
        "Do you know by who?" Andrew questioned.
        "No." She spoke quickly, internally cringing at how defensive her tone sounded.
        Andrew's gaze hardened, his intuition not believing her. Of course he wouldn't believe her, living with Ashley basically his whole life had practically made him become a human lie detector. Before he could speak about the matter, she spoke up. 
        "Can you check on Hailey for me please? She was a bit down earlier today, surely you can cheer her up for me? Just don't mention my current condition to her, please." (Y/N) requested, sounding more of a pathetic demand and excuse to get him to leave her alone. 
        Andrew looked hesitant to leave her, before he sighed, nodding his head. "Yeah, sure..." he grumbled. 
        "Thank you." She hummed, giving him a false smile.
        They had a moment to themselves, silently staring at each other, before Andrew turned his wheelchair around and rolled out of the room, closing the door behind him. (Y/N) let out a sigh of relief once she was alone, glad to have avoided the tough subject.
        Maybe she'll tell him one day, once she gets to know him better and can be certain he wouldn't kill her for it.
        She ignored the pain as she squirmed into a comfortable position to sleep in. She needed the rest, and sleep is the body's natural way of healing after her. Her eyes trailed to the curtains, watching the cars on the road zoom past the hospitals and watching as some lights started to shut off, night owls getting ready for bed too just like her. 
        She'll call her parents as soon as she gets out of the hospital, even if they've probably not heard the news or care about it, she still wants some sort of closure from her parents. Maybe they'll even take pity on her and stay on the phone for a bit, ask how she's doing, or what she's doing now. 
        Sounds like a plan. (Y/N) thought, closing her eyes as she ignored her body's pain, waiting for sleep to overtake her. 
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I know there hasn't been much of any Andrew and reader moments, but chapter 5 will have plenty, these past chapters have just been plot and character-development and such!
My next series will be a Yandere! Hitoshi Shinso x Yandere! Fem! Reader, so keep watch for that!
To the Ashley fans, I'm sorry for what I've done.
Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!
Inbox is OPEN for requests!
Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, current chapter, Chapter 5 + 6 (in the works)
117 notes · View notes
infinizero · 7 days
Text
Ok so
There is this trope about ghosts not reaching maturity until they've been ghosts for several centuries
There is ALSO the trope that ghosts fight as a sort of way to communicate
With the power of these two tropes combined-- I give you this strange headcanon:
Ghosts become mature adult ghosts after 500 years.
Danny and his usual troublemakers are all in the same "daycare".
He's just the youngest + most unique ghost so they like playing around with him the most. In other words, it's the ghost version of older siblings ordering their younger siblings around
As far as ghosts go,
There are blobs, ghost animals, shades (those are ghosts as we know it) and ghosts (aka Infinite Realms Beings) etc etc
The blobs and etc are, well, blobs and etc
But ghosts need a while to fully grow up and be considered adult
And so, if these ghosts are children, they need guardians or caretakers at the daycare right?
Correct
Baby ghosts are under the care of the nearest authority (Ancient or Leader or etc etc)
Except baby ghosts usually stay near where they were born and Danny and Co just so happen to be near Pariah Dark
Pariah Dark is asleep
But Fright Knight is there!
Except Fright Knight is also sealed
And it's one thing to wake up the ultra powerful megalomaniac tyrant kinda parent figure but not really you're supposed to have and another to drag your oldest adult sibling out of their room to touch grass
In other words, the surrounding authorities just went eh the babies can contact fright Knight if anything happens
But then Danny defeats Pariah and inherits his authority
So he technically becomes the caretaker of baby ghosts in the area while being the youngest baby ghost himself
Hence the other ancients visiting and *playing* with him to see if it's ok to leave the babies with this other baby
And since they're ghosts who don't have human guidelines or morals, decide that since he's that strong it should be fine to leave it alone
Besides he has Fright Knight! Good 'ol Frighty will definitely help out this new baby kid ghost with doing everything!
Meanwhile, Fright Knight waiting for Danny to come claim the crown and ring: ...
Cue Danny's rogues coming up to him to show him shit they accomplished
Youngblood : Phantom look at this cool baking soda volcano that spews out real lava!!
Danny: It does WHAT
Youngblood: Look!
Danny: NO
Ember: Hey Babybop wanna listen to the new song I wrote? It compels humans to start cults based on my name!
Danny: Ember, no
Ember: I think you mean Ember YES
Skulker: Ghost boy I have skinned an alien and brought you a pelt turned into a coat
Danny: ...you did WHAt
Skulker: It is nearing winter time and one must always be ready for winter time
Danny, having an existential meltdown after seeing his parents and Vlad get it on together: Desiree what the actual fuck??? Did you do????
Desiree: I merely fulfilled a wish
Johnny: Hey Phantom look we got matching tattoos to celebrate our anniversary!
Kitty: Wait what did you just say?
Johnny: uh, we got tattoos for our anniversary?
Kitty: ...our anniversary is in TWO MONTHS. THAT was for my DEATHDAY.
Johnny: ...oh shit
Danny, about to soup them both: Man, get good
Lunch Lady: Phantom have you eaten your proteins today?!
Danny: uh... Yeah?
Lunch Lady, already throwing meat at him: EAT MORE
Danny:
Box ghost: WITNESS! THE GREAT BOX MECHA!
Danny: oh come on seriously
And on the other hand,
Walker, dumping ten piles of paper in Danny's room: Phantom, here are the latest forms that need revisions
Spectra: What do you MEAN you're not allowing me to open a beauty salon in order to dig into other girls' insecurities and maintain my own beauty?! That's why it's called a beauty salon!!
Cujo and Wulf who are both the best boys and favorites, with smug faces:
Fright Knight still waiting for Danny to accept the ring and crown:
Plasmius: What the heck is this weird feeling my ghost side keeps making me feel??
Plasmius: is it... Is there perhaps a ghostly way I can adopt the little badger??
89 notes · View notes
imhidingfromschool · 3 months
Text
Professor- Nanami
WC: 3,329
TW: uhhhh n/sfw? use of words like doll and good girl? idk, kinda public, prof/student relationship
AN: This was a request I did on my wattpad, it isn’t proof read 😋
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His warm hand slides up my shirt, warming my icy skin. I can barely hold in a moan as he grinds against my throbbing heat. His gentle eyes stare at me with such love that I can't help but give myself to him.
"[Y/N]?? Hello are you with us [Y/N]?" Your teacher Nanami Kento calls out, snapping you from your not so innocent day dream.
Your face burns red, no way you just had some weird sex fantasy about your teacher...mid-class?! You stand up from your seat and grab your text book, preparing to read.
"No, no need to read [Y/N], you just seemed...distracted. I have a low tolerance for daydreamers." He says causing your blush to deepen. You immediately sit back down, hearing some of your classmates snicker.
When the bell finally rings you begin to pack up your bag. Of course with your shitty luck you spill your pencil case and end up staying later than your other classmates.
Finally when you get your stuff together you head towards the door. You can't even make eye contact with your teacher, the embarrassment is too much to bare.
"Wait [Y/N] come here for a moment please." You hear Mr. Nanami call out. You stop in your tracks and slowly turn around. You mentally prepared yourself for the scolding you were about to receive.
"Yes sir?" You ask, still avoiding eye contact with him.
"I was just wondering if everything's alright? You've seem to be spacing out more and more often in class. I'm just worried about you." He says while placing a gentle hand onto your shoulder.
Honestly you were shocked, Nanami Kento was famous for his harsh punishments. You once heard a rumor that he kicked a student out of his class for dropping a pencil!
You stare into his warm eyes, they're so different from his normal piercingly cold ones. Fuck, this man has no idea what he's doing to you. If it wasn't so taboo you would have already made a move. You're both adults so what does it matter?
No! That's only the horny talking, you know you can't hit on your teacher! You think to yourself, trying to snap yourself out of your lewd thoughts.
"Ah I'm sorry sir, recently my parents have been going through a divorce and things have just been weird. Especially with my father, we've never been especially close." You say to him, technically it wasn't a lie, you and your father had always had a...strained relationship to say the least.
"Okay, just let me know if you need anything." He says and you quickly thank him before scurrying out of the room.
Your friend is waiting for you outside with a smirk plastered across her face.
"So how was getting chewed out by the infamous Nanami Kento. I'm sure that crushed your little crush on him." She says with a wink that causes your blush to return.
You made the mistake of telling your friend about your crush on your Professor. She constantly teases you about it.
"Actually he was super sweet and understanding. He said that I could go to him if I needed anything." You say with a soft smile, thinking back on his warm touch.
Later that night when you finally get to your dorm your friend plops right down onto her bed and passes out.
You envied her carefree nature, she was naturally so smart. You sat down at your desk and opened your textbook to your assigned homework. You sighed, your one little not so innocent day dream set you back way farther than you thought.
You were already struggling but now it felt like everything was in a different language! Nothing was making sense and your grades were already slipping.
You tapped your head against your desk, you needed to start getting more serious. Grades would be sent home soon and your dad would not be okay with any of these.
Slowly you open your lap top and start your intense study session. You watch several youtube videos and read several articles. After all of that you still felt like you only understood a fraction of the lesson.
Unfortunately the sun had already begun to rise. Panic immediately sets in as you realize you went the whole night without sleeping.
The next few weeks are a blur of trying to improve your grades but miserably failing. You try to ask your roommate for help but she's terrible at explaining.
"Just do it! I don't get what you don't understand [Y/N], just go through these four steps!" She insists but it never gets through your thick skull.
Finally the day has arrived, the day you have been dreading for the last few weeks. The day that your grades get released to your parents.
You knew your mother wouldn't care, she was always so supportive. She knew you were doing your best and that was enough for her.
On the other hand your father was cruel, always has been and probably always will be. He would send you harsh messages, and scream at you for the slightest failures. If it wasn't first then it was last to him.
Shockingly enough it had been two days since grades had been released and nothing. No messages, missed calls, or even voicemails. Maybe he had missed it, either way you were relieved. Until it happened.
DING
Your phone lights up with a message from none other than your father. You stare down in horror, you know the worst is about to happen.
[Daughter],
I'm not just disgusted; I'm questioning how someone I raised could sink so low. You've not only let me down; you've shattered any pride I had in being your parent. It's shameful to be associated with the poor decisions you're making. Your recent behavior is beyond disappointing; it's utterly shameful. Your choices not only reflect a profound lack of character but also make me question the values I thought I had instilled in you. Frankly, associating with someone displaying such a flagrant disregard for decency is nothing short of humiliating.
Revulsion,
[Your Father]
You stare down at the message in shock, he didn't even bother to use your name. You quickly run into a nearby classroom, trying to hide the tears that have begun to well up in your eyes.
You collapse, leaning against the wall and falling to the floor. Tears begin to pour out of your eyes as you reread the message. After that paragraph he continued to send more harsh messages, messages that you couldn't even repeat out loud.
CLICK
Your eyes shoot up to the door to your left. You thought you had stumbled into an unused classroom but you realized a little too late that you're in your math professors room.
"[Y/N]?" You hear a familiar voice call out. Your eyes widen in horror, it's Mr. Nanami.
Quickly you scramble to your feet. You try to wipe away your tears but there's no hiding the red rim around your eyes and puffy face.
"Ah I'm sorry, I didn't realize this was your classroom Sir." You say with a quick bow, swiftly walking towards the door.
"Wait-" He says, grabbing your wrist gently and spinning you around. You fall forward into his chest from the quick movement.
Your face irrupts into flames from the close proximity and you slowly take a step back. His face is unreadable and the two of you just stand there in silence for a moment.
Finally he breaks the silence."Are you okay?" He says slowly reaching for your face, rubbing a stray tear away with his thumb. Your eyes widen in shock, the man in front of you who is known for being cruel is being so unbelievably gentle.
"Mr. Nanami-"
DING
That one noise was enough to send you reeling. It was like you lost all control of your body as the grief washed back over you. Your head falls against his chest and he quickly wraps his arms around you.
"[Y/N] what's going on? Talk to me please." He says while rubbing circles into your back. It takes you a second to catch your breath and realize who arms you're in.
"Omg I'm sniff so sorry Mr. sniff Nanami!" You speak out between sobs, trying to pull yourself together.
"Don't worry [Y/N] you're safe, let it out." He says, pulling you back into the safety of his arms. You sob into his arms while he gently caresses your hair, the size difference between you two being incredibly present.
"Good girl, just like that." The innocent words caused your face to engulf into flames, your tears beginning to slow.
Eventually your sob comes to a complete stop and you slowly step away, begrudgingly leaving the warmth of his arms.
"I'm so sorry Mr. Nanami it's just some family issues, I really shouldn't have reacted like this, I'm so sorry." You begin to apologize profusely, embarrassment kicking in.
"It's really no problem [Y/N], I'm here whenever you need." He says with the softest smile ever. Your heart nearly skips a beat before you scurry away.
Over the next couple of weeks you avoid Nanami like the plague. Quickly leaving class as soon as the bell rings. The embarrassment from your pathetic actions have truly stared to get to you.
Unfortunately today you couldn't rush out as fast as usual. You were taking a math exam when the bell rang, and you hadn't finished.
"Ah, sorry, Mr. Nanami I didn't finish." You say with an adorable pout.
"I'm staying after school today, if you'd like the come finish it later." He says, glancing up from his desk briefly to address you.
"That would be great, thank you Mr. Nanami!" You say with an enthusiastic smile, trying to ignore your pounding heart.
Finally the time has come, your last period has ended and it's time to head back to your math room.
Your heart is practically leaping out of your chest, just you and Nanami, alone together. Considering the fact that there's also a near by basketball game the school will be practically empty.
knock knock
"Hello Professor? It's me [Y/N], I'm here to finish my test." You say sheepishly, the door slowly opens and you're met with Nanami gazing down at you.
The two of you just stare at each other for a long moment before Nanami clears his throat, stepping aside. You thank him before heading inside and sitting at your usual desk.
He gives you your test back and the two of you sit in comfortable silence as you work through the unanswered questions.
"Shit" You huff under your breath. You couldn't remember the equation you had to use for this specific word problem.
The way it was worded was similar to another equation. You knew it wasn't that but you just couldn't for the life of you remember what it was.
"Hm?" Nanami hums out, standing over your shoulder, watching your struggle against mathematics. You startle slightly, you hadn't even heard him stand up.
"Use the Pendulum Formula." He whispers as if someone else was in the room, someone waiting to bust through the door and yell at him for giving away answers.
You look over your shoulder, making eye contact with him. He was so close you could practically feel his breath on your face.
The tension was so thick you could practically taste it. His eyes on your lips and yours on his, you knew it was wrong, but was it really that bad?
Within seconds his lips are attached on yours. Your arms fly up, desperately grabbing at his hair, pulling him impossibly closer.
You don't even notice as he picks you up off of your chair, seating you on his desk. Your to focused on him, and the taste of his sweet lips.
Neither of you could get enough, your legs wrapping around his waist, him grinding against your clothed pussy.
Begrudgingly the two of you pull apart, gasping for air. His head falls onto your shoulder, arms tightening around your figure, you were so small compared to him, practically caged between his arms.
"W..We should stop." He huffs out, but you knew that was the last thing he wanted, you could tell from the large bulge rubbing against your inner thighs. He wanted this just as badly, if not more than you did.
"I know, but I really don't want to." You say, tightening your grip on his hair and pulling him back into a sloppy kiss.
His hands roam your body, sliding his warm hands under your shirt, sending shivers down your spine.
His hands take little time making their way up to your breasts, pulling your bra down but not off. Leaving your breasts exposed to the cold air, your nipples immediately hardening.
You don't just sit there idly while he toys with you, you're making quick work of his belt. Quickly undoing it and unzipping his pants.
You slide your hand inside, against his clothed heat, still being protected by his underwear.
The two of you pull away from each other once more, though this time it's for the sole purpose of undressing. Immediately you reach for the hem of your shirt, yanking it up and over, leaving your perky nipples on complete display.
He groans at the sight, barely being able to focus on the small buttons that line his shirt. You take pity on the man and help him out.
Your breath nearly gets stuck in your throat as you watch him take off his shirt, teasingly slow. His chiseled body on complete display all for you.
Gently he clears his desk, gently pushing you down on the now cleared area. He hovers over you, so large you can't even tell that he's still standing.
He starts with your lips leaving feather light kisses down to your jaw, your throat, and your collarbone. When he gets to your breasts he pauses for a moment before kitten licking your right nipple.
Your legs squeeze around his waist at the feeling, letting out a moan that sounded more like a squeak. His right hand comes up, sliding across your thigh all the way up to your left nipple, making sure it's receiving the same attention.
It was heavenly, but it wasn't what you wanted, no needed what you needed was him, all of him.
"P-Please Nanami, I w-wanna feel you." You barely manage to squeak out, moaning in between syllables.
He unlatches from your chest with a pop before moving back up to kiss you. The kiss only momentarily distracted you from his quick fingers.
You felt your belt loosen and your pants unbutton and in what felt like a mere second you were just in your panties.
He pulls back to take a look at you, completely flushed with you bra unceremoniously pull down, your arm placed on your forehead and you pretty pink panties with a noticeable wet spot.
Fuck he could almost cum just from the sight of you. You watch his every move, desperate for him to touch you, anywhere at this point.
He wanted to take his time, he wanted to make love to you, show you that he really did care about you and this wasn't just some one night stand, but after seeing you so desperate for him he knew that'd have to wait for another day.
Swiftly he slides his underwear down, allowing his dick to spring free, practically slapping his stomach. The tip was flushed red, precum practically drowning out.
Carefully and slowly he aligns himself with your entrance, practically teasing you as he slides himself through your folds a few times, mixing both of your fluids together, creating plenty of slick.
You reach up, wrapping you arms around his neck, pulling him down into a passionate kiss as he slowly, painstakingly slowly enters you.
The two of you pant and mewl into the kiss, both completely blissed out from the feeling. Your warm velvety walls are sucking him in so nicely, you're so fucking tight he can barely handle it, and fuck he fills you up so nicely, the stretch feeling more pleasurable than you could've imagined.
The two of you take a moment to catch your breath before he begins to move, but it's not enough. He's going to slow, to sensual, what you need is for him to fuck you, have you seeing stars.
"M-More, fffffuckkk, Nanami harder please." You moan out, squeezing around him.
"F-Fuck, whatever you say Doll." He says and the nickname only causes your heart to flutter and your pussy to beg for more.
Oh and does he deliver. He grabs either side of your hips, holding you securely in place as he pounds into you. When he finds your prostate he practically abuses the squishy area.
He's groaning and huffing above you, trying his absolute hardest to hold out, to not cum on the spot from your warm walls.
As he feels his release approaching one of his hands snake down to rub at your throbbing flit. Your legs wrap around him, somehow even tighter as you let out a whiny moan, pleasure hitting you.
"F-Fuck, I'm almost there." He groans out and he can tell you are too, he can tell by the pulsations, your pussy practically sucking him in deeper.
Without any warning he pulls out and you whine, your hole grasping at nothing. The empty feeling making you whine out in disagreement.
He doesn't make you wait long though, plunging two fingers inside of you. Mercilessly fingering you and practically abusing your clit with his skilled younger.
He has you cumming in mere minutes, but the two of you aren't done yet, no he still hasn't cum. Without even letting you catch your breath after you intense orgasm he pulls your practically limp body off of his desk and onto the floor.
You sit down, staring at him with glazed eyes. Your mouth practically watering at the sight of his dick, it's practically crying for your help.
You spare little time, wrapping your soft delicate fingers around the base and gently licking the tip. He groans, "fuck please, don't tease me."
You smile at his politeness and decide to listen, taking him in your mouth. He's huge and you're practically choking but it's exhilarating. Your heart is racing and your pussy is dripping from excitement.
Your hollowing your cheeks, humming on his dick, swirling your tongue around the tip. You're giving this man the sloppiest fucking head ever and he's enjoying every minute.
Gently intertwining his fingers into your hair and practically fucking your throat with his cock. "Fuck just like that, who's my good girl? You're doing so good for me baby."
When he starts to twitch in the back of your throat you know he's close. That only encourages you to speed up, bobbing your head up and down, staring up at him through tears, not breaking eye contact for even a second.
That was the last straw, he felt something snap and he was gone, shooting warm streams of milky white cum down your throat. You're practically choking on his cock but that doesn't stop him from holding you in place.
"You can take it for me, I know you can, you take me so well princess." He groans out as you work him through his orgasm.
Finally he releases your hair and you slide him out of your throat with a pop. Quickly he leans down to pull you up and into a tight hug.
You return without hesitation, leaning your head on his chest, but he wasn't done. No this was just the beginning.
He gives you a moment to regain your composure before he's bending you over his desk, ass out and ready to be fucked.
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reasonsforhope · 9 months
Text
"While mainstream media increasingly cover violence and legislative attacks against trans people, many scholars and activists worry that focusing just on violence and discrimination fails to capture the full experience of being trans.
Drawing on the success of movements like the Black Joy Project, which uses art to promote Black healing and community-building, trans activists are challenging one-dimensional depictions of their community by highlighting the unique joys of being transgender.
My research on trans parents affirms the reality of trans joy. From 2019 to 2021, I interviewed 54 transgender women — both current and prospective parents — from diverse racial and class backgrounds across the country.
I found that while many have navigated discrimination in their parenting journeys, they also have fulfilling parent-child relationships, often with the support of partners, families of origin and their communities.
Gender euphoria
Scholars and community members use the term gender euphoria to describe a “joyful feeling of rightness in one’s gender/sex.”
It diverges from the diagnosis of gender dysphoria, or a sense of conflict between assigned sex and gender identity typically associated with feelings of distress and discomfort.
Gender euphoria celebrates feeling comfortable with who you are and how you are perceived by the world.
Some people transition with a specific set of goals, while others discover new sources of joy and new facets of their identity over time.
Many of the trans women I interviewed expressed their gender euphoria in relation to their role as mothers. A Black trans woman in her 20s, whom I will call Gloria, experiences joy in being recognized as a mother.
“I love being called Mom. That’s the greatest thing,” she told me. “I love waking up every morning to see [my child’s] beautiful face. It keeps me motivated.” ...
For many trans people, transitioning opens up a new set of possibilities. When I asked Adriana, a trans Latina in her 30s, what it was like to come out as trans, she told me,
“I’ve never been happier. The happiest day of my life was when my daughter was born, and the second happiest day of my life was when I [started transitioning].”
Family and community connections
While some trans people do experience rejection from their families of origin, that is not true for the majority of the community.
In a 2015 national survey of over 27,700 trans adults, the U.S. Trans Survey, 60% of respondents reported having families who are supportive of their trans identity.
Trans women also form chosen families with friends, co-workers and other community members. Relationships with other trans people can have particularly positive effects on identity development and overall well-being, including emotional resilience, self-acceptance and a sense of connection.
Trans community care
In addition to caring for their biological and adopted children, the trans women I interviewed felt a responsibility to take care of their community.
Sometimes this care manifested as parent-child relationships, in which respondents provide financial or emotional support to LGBTQ+ youth.
Maggie, a white woman in her 50s, didn’t know she was a parental figure for her “queer kids” until they tagged her on Instagram to celebrate Mother’s Day.
“Someone might go, ‘Hey, can I stay on your sofa tonight? I’m having a hard time.’ Well, yeah, of course,” she said.
“Or they might hang around the shop [I work at], and only later it dawns on me, ‘Oh, this was the only place they could come and get affirmed and not feel weird.’” ...
Miriam, a white trans woman in her 60s, agreed that she has a lot to learn from younger trans people.
“A lot of my community today, people who I count as family and my beloveds, are not of my generation,” she said. ‘Beloveds’ is the term she uses to describe her platonic loved ones.
“I learn a lot from my beloveds in their 20s and 30s, who don’t have the same baggage I [dealt with] about how I could be and who I could be.”"
-via GoodGoodGood via The Conversation, July 14, 2023
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artzee-bee · 1 year
Text
Forever my love | Adrien Agreste x reader
Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug
Requested by @oyasumimosura
Summary: friends to strangers to lovers with a no-so-happy ending
Genre: some fluff, angst
Warnings: canon typical violence (maybe tuned up a notch tho), death
A/N: my google doc for this piece is 10 pages long and it’s went through at least 4 alternate endings before getting here. I got this request months ago and have been working on it since, whenever I can. I hope this is alright because it’s been a journey...
~~~
There was no ‘first memory’ with you. Not one that would come to Adrien’s mind anyways. It felt like you had simply always been in his life. The only thing he remembered was you and your mother, entering the Agreste mansion as if it was your own, almost every Sunday. His mom would welcome both of you with wide arms and offer you tea, and biscuits, which you would snuck to Adrien’s room. Your favorite have always been the ones with strawberry jam filling.
And then you’d play for hours! Building fortresses out of chairs and pillows, racing toy cars around the room, saving plush animals from the imminent danger of Adrien’s rocketship and so on. Not a single moment spent with you felt boring! Your presence was addictive, the joy, the excitement you brought with yourself every time was something Adrien couldn’t understand at the time but now, as an adult looking back, he could easily recognise it as love.
But the world has its own way of never quite letting you be happy enough. The memory of your last playdate, as well as the day his parents told him you were moving away, were very hazy and unclear. For years he refused to revisit them, the sorrow too great for his young, immature self to know how to handle. Now, there was only one sentence he could remember you saying, clear as day. One promise that gave him more hope than he could put in words. “We’ll keep in touch”.
You exchanged letters the whole time you were away!! Of course, they could never be a substitute for the time spent together but Adrien learned to appreciate them deeply. He took his time responding to each of them and always nervously awaited your response. Years went on like that! Every summer you’d promise to visit and every time Adrien would have the displeasure of having to read, in your flawless and delicate handwriting, that your parents canceled the trip for whatever reason.
Eventually, he decided it was best to move on. In the time you had been gone many things changed: he grew up, got big in the fashion industry, started school, became the new black cat miraculous holder, made friends! His life became overwhelmingly busy and the precious memories you made together faded away without notice. He found joy in other things and in his new friends! Your letters no longer brought the excitement they once did and consequently, he always postponed replying until eventually, it all stopped.
Much to Adrien’s shock, almost exactly a year after losing contact, he saw you! He had been transformed at the time, having just finished defeating an akuma when he saw you exiting a coffee shop down the street. He couldn’t believe his eyes and had it not been for the alarming beeping of his miraculous, he probably would have stayed petrified on top of that roof much longer. Once detransformed, he tried to go looking for you but to no avail.
It wasn’t until a week later that he finally got to talk to you again. Natalie reached out to your family and arranged for you two to meet. That Friday afternoon, you had lunch at a pizza place that you didn’t recognise. He looked the same. Same innocent glimmer in his eyes and ecstatic voice. It almost weirded you out how much it seemed this boy never changed. But of course, you weren’t right. Many things have changed.
Adrien tried his best to be open and friendly. To him, it felt like no time had passed at all, but you were so quiet and shy. A subtle frown was visible on your face from the moment you arrived and you barely looked him in the eyes. The air around you felt thick with discomfort, which was extremely frustrating to Adrien. He wanted to ask what’s wrong but found it so difficult to speak his mind until, eventually, you opened up yourself.
“Why did you stop writing?” your voice didn’t betray any feeling of anger or sadness and yet, Adrien was instantly washed over with guilt
“I’m sorry. I wanted to but…”
“Was I not worth it?”
“What?” Adrien couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth, but you were just as still and cold as before
“Because, you see, when we were kids you were one of the most important people in my life. You were my best friend and I honestly thought we would never ever be apart! No one could ever break us up! And I put everything I had into not losing that, convinced that you’d do the same for me! Because your friendship was worth more to me than any number of kilometers between us!” your words fell out quickly and stung him “Was I not worth fighting for, Adrien?”
He didn’t know what to say! He wanted to tell you he was just stupid and made a grave mistake. That you were more than worth it, but the words were stuck in his throat.
You didn’t speak after that. Adrien was heartbroken but figured you were already so mad at him, it would only make it worse if he kept pestering you on.
Eventually, one night, after patrol, he saw you! It was already way after dark and you were just strolling down the street all alone. A sense of anxiety overtook him and he knew he couldn’t go home just yet
“Good evening pretty lady!” he greeted you, full of glee. “The streets can get pretty nasty this late at night, y’know? Hope you don’t mind if this street cat walks alongside you for a while.”
“Hello Chat Noir!” your voice was so smooth and warm “ I’d really love that. I was actually quite uncomfortable walking alone.” “Well then, fear not!The bravest and strongest hero in all of Paris is right here at your service! Did I also mention the most charming?” you giggled to his silliness
Adrien was ecstatic to get to talk to you again, like old times. He finally felt like he got his friend back! He didn’t even realize how big of a hole your absence had left in his life. After that night, he would accompany you everyday on your evening walks and, soon enough, you began hanging out at your house. Oftentimes he would knock on your bedroom window shortly after you got home from school and more often than not, he would spend hours at your place. You did almost everything together from playing video games to watching movies, cooking, gossiping. He would tell you all the fun stories he had with Ladybug from their patrols and would blush a little when you began laughing uncontrollably. It was just too cute.
With all this joy, still there was an ounce of pain at the idea that you didn’t know who you were really talking to. Almost every time you called him Chat, his heart would sting a little. He liked being Chat Noir. He loved it even. With you however, it just felt like one big lie he could do nothing about. He wanted you to look at him and see the boy from all those years ago. To look at him and call him by his name. To rejoice in old memories, instead of him having to pretend he hears the story for the first time. Adrien couldn’t help but feel like he was betraying you by simply being here, knowing how mad you were with his civilian self. When those thoughts got to him, he felt more alone than ever, but you almost always picked up on it
“What’s wrong?” you would ask and the sweetness of your voice ran like ice down his body. You would not be this kind if you knew
“Absolutely nothing, I am doing wonderful” he’d say through gritted teeth
“Sit down and talk to me!”
“I can’t. It’s personal” which you knew really meant “It would put my identity in danger”
So you would shut up. You’d make tea or let him have the last cookie as a sign of solidarity. To let him know you still cared. Sometimes he would ask you for hugs, which you would indulge him in. You’d wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him tight to your chest, trying to convey all the love and care you had for him in that one gesture. Almost always, the hero would melt into your embrace as if he’d never been held before. His head would rest on your shoulder and his blonde locks tickled your neck and cheek.
Confessing to you was the biggest risk he ever took, which meant a lot considering his occupation. It happened after yet another game of cards lost by Chat. It had been what felt like his 15th loss of the night and in a futile attempt to protect his remaining dignity, he slipped
“You’re only winning cause I love you too much to let you lose!” the cocky attitude dropped instantly as he processed his choice of words. You were just looking at him, a little quizzingly, unsure if you heard him right.
“Do you mean that?”
“I do”
The brightest smile overtook your features instantly “Good. I love you too!”
It was difficult for a long time. The secret identity issue became even greater with the new level of intimacy that was expected with the start of a romantic relationship. On top of that, Adrien was pretty clueless. You were his first girlfriend, the first girl he ever fell in love with, the pressure was high. He wanted to be the best boyfriend there was! He brought you many gifts, big and small. He spent as much time with you as he could, he always told you just how much you actually meant to him. The blush on your cheeks and the witty comebacks made him melt through his seat every time and with every happy memory he made with you came the unmistakable pain of never really being completely honest with you. On one of your sleepovers, the feelings were overwhelming Chat more than he thought was possible
“What’s going on Chat?”
“Nothing darling. Just tired”
“Come on, you know you can’t fool me! You’ve been quiet all night, it’s really unlike you”
Adrien’s mind went empty when you sat on the floor in front of him, lightly running your fingers over his leather clad ones. The trust and love in your eyes was so mesmerizing. No one had ever looked at him like that and for a split second he imagined your reaction if you knew who he was. He wondered if you’d kick him out. Break up with him here and now and never want anything to do with him ever again. He imagined the anger in your voice, the betrayal. And then, he considered, briefly, a different option. A scenario in which you’d hug him tight and kiss the top of his head, and there’d be no more lies. No more secrets, no more of these impossible feelings that were tormenting him. That smile, that bliss, engulfed his mind and he felt powerless in the face of hope.
“I’m sorry” he said weakly
“For what?” and before he could think for another second, talk himself out or consider the consequences of his actions, he did the only thing he felt was logical
“Plagg, claws in”
When the green light vanished and Adrien found himself back in his normal clothes, he didn’t muster to look at your face
“Chat, what are you doing?” finally, he glanced up, only to find you curled up on the ground, with your hands over your eyes. You hadn’t seen him
“It’s ok.”
“You detransformed?”
“Yes…”
“Chat you can’t do that.”
“I want you to see me” he tried to sound confident, but it came out almost as a plea.
“What about Ladybug?”
“I’ll deal with her later. It’s ok. I swear”
“Chat…”
“Please”
Adriean reached out to pull your hands away from your face, but your eyes were still closed
“Chat?”
“Yes?”
“Before I look, I want you to know that I love you regardless of who you are. If you’re doing this because you think I can’t love you fully without knowing your identity, if you’re doing this for me, please know that this won’t change anything. I want you to be comfortable with this, ok?” Adrien blushed, feeling tears well up in his eyes
“I want to do this” he kissed your knuckles “if that’s ok with you”
Slowly, you opened your eyes and Adrien felt his heart beating out of his chest. Your face went soft and your eyes welled up with tears and you looked at eachother. You couldn’t muster a word and neither could he. He took this as you being disappointed and let go of your hand, only for you to grab it once more, much harder than before. Finally, tears came rolling down your cheeks, as you whispered a simple “I love you”
That night, neither of you could stop crying. The liberation of all secrets and all lies felt divine and finally, Adrien felt like he was 100% safe for the first time in his life.
Many things changed after that. Adrien got a serious scolding from Ladybug, since he couldn’t lie to her about what he’s done. She wasn’t as mad as he expected her to be, so in the end it was all worth it when you began showing up to the Agreste mansion to hang out. It was hard for Adrien to find time to spend with her during the day but Natalie was always so understanding of their relationship and tried her best to squeeze in an hour or two here and there for you! Now, Adrien could hold your hand and take you to his photoshoots. You facetimed more often and it finally felt like you got the relationship you were always meant to have.
~~~
Paris looked beautiful from the top of the Eiffel tower. Chat took you here many times before. It felt so romantic being up there with your best friend, the boy of your dreams! You felt so powerful looking down at all the lights and cars passing by and at the same time so protected by his tight grip around your waist. Nothing could hurt you if he was there, with or without the costume! But the arms holding you now were much slimmer and much less concerned with your safety. You knew you shouldn’t look down from the edge you were standing on but it was so hard not to. Lila was manic next to you, laughing and shouting about her imminent victory, taunting the two superheroes that were struggling to catch up.The tiny robots Lila could control with her powers had kept Ladybug and Chat Noir busy for just enough time to allow the akumatized girl to take you with her, away from the scene and up here.
“Be careful with what you do next Ladybug, otherwise the girl gets it!” the taunting manner in which she spoke felt hardly like Lila. You never found her to be a particularly pleasant person to be around but the malice with which she spoke now was so unusual!
She kicked your shin, making one of your legs drop off the edge. Had it not been for her holding onto your forearm, you would have dropped. You could see Ladybug and Chat approaching but they were so far away and it felt like they were moving so slowly. A cry ripped through your chest as you hung there, your life in the hands of this girl you couldn’t even recognise anymore.You were trying to pull yourself back on the ledge with your other foot before she kicked that one too, swinging you in the air by your arm.
“Oh oh, but you’re so far away little Bug? Whatever are you gonna do if my hand …slips?” she let go with a chuckle.
Chat couldn’t see anything around him anymore, all he saw was your helpless body falling from the sky! He screamed your name but he was still so far! Ladybug threw her yoyo, trying to form a net below you, but the speed at which you were falling was much greater than anybody expected. You fell right through the net, breaking it to pieces and hit the ground with a hard thud. Chat screamed, Ladybug was speechless, all the while Lila was laughing on her way down!
“Chat, get her! I’ll handle Lila!”
That’s all it took. Chat was looking down at your unconscious form before he knew it. You were so bloody and so limp in his arms.
“Don’t!” you whispered when he tried to pick you up
“It’s not safe for you here, I need to hide you away!” he almost screamed, too relieved to see you alive to be able to control himself
“It’s over Chat!”
“Don’t talk like that! You will be ok! I will make you ok!”
“I’m tired…”
“No, don’t do it! Focus on me, focus on my voice! Can you see me?”
“You have to protect the people…”
“You are the only one I have to protect! I’m sorry I wasn’t there to catch you, I’m sorry! Please! Please let me protect you!” tears were streaming down his face and he found himself thinking that he would sell his soul to switch places with you
“Chat, I love you” you said through your own tears
“Don’t say goodbye!”
“I’m not”
“I love you Y/N! I love you so much, please don’t leave me alone! I can still save you!” he laid his head on your chest, not believing his own words
“I’ll always love you Adrian!” you whispered in his ear, kissing his temple with the last of your powers
~~~
“You need to hurry up, Adrian needs to be at a press conference across town in one hour and we’re already behind schedule because of you!”
“Nathalie, stop that! Everyone is doing their best here.”
“This photoshoot was supposed to be over already!”
“Maybe you should go have some water while you wait, yeah?” Adrien was trying to be nice but he felt really bad about the way Nathalie was speaking to the makeup artist. He knew they were very busy and Nath was under a great deal of stress but still, he felt it wasn’t fair to the girls working hard to get him ready.
“I’m sorry about that! She’s a lovely person, it’s just the last couple of days have been really hard for her”
“Oh, it’s alright, sir. Trust me I’ve seen much worse before” the young girl replied “Plus, I would imagine that making the switch to become a full time model would bring on a lot more responsibilities on her side.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Adrien chuckled. “If you would have told me last year, when I was still in school, that my schedule would be even more packed as a graduate, I would have probably given up modeling then and there. Now I just deal with it.”
Adrien observed himself in the mirror, thinking back to his high school days. He tried to remember what he looked like, although that was very difficult. He knew his hair was much longer now, reaching just below his chin. He thought his face was a bit slimmer and many people told him he put on a healthy amount of muscle in the last couple of months, but  he was still himself, just 20.
“If you don’t mind sir, we need the first couple of buttons of your shirt undone for the next set. I will add a little contour to the collarbones and then we’re done”
Said and done, with the first few buttons open he looked even more manly than before.
“Um, I think we should take the necklace off if you don’t mind…”
Eyes shot down to his chest, where a tiny silver ring on a chain hung, barely glistening in the lights around.
“Yes, that’s alright” he said, although he never liked taking it off. There was always a worry in the back of his hand about misplacing it or something and the thought was simply unbearable, but he understood.
“That’s a very beautiful piece of jewelry”
“Thank you!” he looked down at the ring twirling it between his fingers. It was so simple, he wasn’t used to receiving compliments on it, even from the select few that got to see it. A simple golden band with a round diamond in the middle. It was so small for him, he could never get it more than halfway down his ring finger. “It belonged to somebody I cared a lot about.” He remembered how hard he worked to get your ring size, all those years ago. It was difficult to do it behind your back, since you had always been so good at reading his body language, you always knew when he was up to something. He remembered all those nights spent on the internet, looking for the perfect ring for you! He knew it needed to be simple but sometimes it was so hard to talk himself out of buying one of the big and glamorous ones. He just wanted to spoil you rotten and if he didn’t take the chance to do that when he was buying your engagement ring, then when would he? Finally, after weeks, he finally found this one and fell in love. It was perfect for you and you were gonna love it. The day it arrived was one of the most exciting times he experienced in the last decade, he could still feel his heart pumping now, at the memory.
“They can’t wear it anymore so I just keep it!” in fact, you had never even gotten the chance to try it on, but those details don’t need to be shared. Still, thinking about the incident, taking place only 2 weeks after he got the ring, hurts him to no end. He was planning the perfect engagement, a grand romantic gesture to make all your dreams come true but now he felt sorrow and regret, wishing he would have simply ran to your door the same day that package was delivered to ask you. At least then you would have known, you would have had the chance to say yes.
“I’m sure they were an incredible person” Adrien only nodded to that “Well, you’re all done, you can head to the set now”
“Thank you, I’ll just drop this off to Nathalie and go”
The pain of not having you around would never go away, Adian had accepted that as a fact! You would always be there for any anniversary or birthday, achievement or simply on lazy days when his mind would wonder. Nothing made the sting of not being able to hold your hand go away but at least the ring, your ring, would comfort him in those moments.
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squash1 · 6 months
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An essay on what makes Gansey, Gansey.
Go.
okay. strap in.
in this essay i will examine how, ultimately, what makes gansey, gansey is his experience with death at an early age and how that is fundamentally about a loss of childhood.
to understand what makes gansey, gansey you have to look at gansey’s two lives. gansey was born into a wealthy family — the kind of family that passes down names father to son and has buildings then built in that name. until gansey was 10, we can assume he fit into this affluent world without issue. little gansey was most likely a spoiled little rich kid — not a bad person but inherently out of touch because of the reality he was born into. when gansey dies the first time, it changes his perception of reality — he has an understanding of time and mortality that most adults don’t have never mind ten year olds. this first death is a representation of an early end to gansey’s childhood. he no longer easily fits into the wealthy, laid back world he was born into. we have to assume that until gansey went to stay with mallory, he was in DC with his parents trying to fit into their world but instead feeling intensely isolated and lonely. because even though gansey changed, his parents didn’t.
mallory is an important figure because of the time he represents in gansey’s life. we know from mallory that at 14 gansey struggled intensely with anxiety, that he hadn’t yet learned to present only his shiny gansey mask to the world. but instead of being dismissive, mallory showed gansey kindness and empathy — he was perhaps gansey’s first friend because sometimes delightfully weird old british men are exactly what a teenager needs. mallory helped gansey in his quest, but he also helped him to discover this new version of himself by making him feel not only safe but like there were other people beyond his parent’s world that would understand this pull and fascination he had.
understanding this backstory is key to understanding what makes gansey, gansey, because an intimate knowledge of death is what has produced this gansey that we meet in the raven boys. the gansey we meet is silly and strange and charming. he uses phrases like “hey, tiger” and drinks organic apple juice from the bottle, he has a favorite yellow sweater and is vocal about his love for it. and that’s just gansey, those are ganseyisms as i like to say. gansey has chosen to live his life with childlike wonder and whimsy because he lost that at an early age but doesn’t want to loose it forever. he has decided to embrace the weird, unknown parts of life. he is essentially reclaiming his time. he’s saying yes i know that there is death and darkness in the world, yes i have seen it first hand, yes i still feel it sometimes but i am going to live my life hopefully. gansey has carved out a life for himself in henrietta — a town that in and of itself makes him feel known, but also contains a piece of his old world in aglionby — and has slowly found people who fit, who feel right, who are 1,000 years old just like him. gansey has been lonely for a lot of his life but he found people who were lonely like he was lonely, that were looking for the something more just like he was looking for the something more. he is a compelling leader not because of money or status, but because his hope and quest and belief are real and made real because of gansey’s relationship to mortality. he has made it his mission to build a life he wants, even if it’s short, even if he’s scared. what makes gansey, gansey is his ability to choose hope anyway, to choose to live anyway.
if you made it this far, i love u
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king-magppi · 1 year
Text
Yellow Guy's Age
DHMIS Fandom, we need to talk about the infantilization of Yellow Guy. It's Papyrus from Undertale all over again😭😭 seriously. Anyways, I'm tired of seeing a GROWN MAN get depicted as a child by this fandom (I'm not talking about AUs or whatever, I'm talking about in casual fanart and the like). There is plenty of evidence from the show to support that Yellow Guy is, in fact, an adult, and I will list some out for you here:
In episode 1 (Jobs), Yellow Guy falls in love and marries Claire (the wrench person) in the span of the 40 years of working for Peterson's and Son's and Friends Bits and Parts Limited! This would be weird if Yellow Guy had met her as a child and grew up to marry her, wouldn't it? "But all that never even happened!" Yes, it did, because if we're using that logic, nothing from ANY of the other episodes happened because they always end up right back at home with no memory of the day prior regardless! Stay with me here!
In episode 3 (Family), Yellow Guy is seen as old enough by Todney and Lily to be forced into the role of the "Mother" and successfully order the Grolton's Chicken family tub. When the three get home, they proceed to try and open the packet of Chuddle Dollops again. During this scene, Red Guy refers to Yellow Guy as his "brother" rather than a son or any other family member.
In episode 4 (Friendship), it is revealed that Yellow Guy has a maiden name (it's "Rat Eyes" apparently), implying he has been married and/or divorced! Also, this next point might be a stretch which is why it isn't the main one for this bullet, but the first thing Yellow Guy wants to do when they finally get on the computer is "Do Gambling".
In episode 6 (Electricity), Lesley refers to Yellow as "NOT their real son". If they DO in fact happen to be his creator/parental figure, and Roy is his father, then that makes it very well possible that Yellow is at VERY LEAST in his late 20s-30s if Lesley is between 60-70 (the actress that plays Lesley, Vivienne Soan, is 67 years old, so it's safe to assume her character is supposed to be presented as around that age range). Another bit that might be a stretch is that after getting fresh batteries, Yellow Guy is able to do taxes, and even speaks more clearly and "mature" sounding.
Yellow is never referred to as a child by the others and is treated as an equal by all members of the household. They constantly pick on each other and even get in a fistfight at the end of episode 4.
Yellow Guy's voice is deep and does not SOUND like one of a child. If he were supposed to be one, wouldn't they give him a more "childish" voice?
And now I will debunk a few arguments I've seen used against people claiming Yellow Guy being an adult:
"But he dresses in overalls!"
Roy wears overalls too. Does this make him a child? Anyone can wear overalls.
"He's child sized! He MUST be a child!"
Actually, Duck/Green is the smallest one, and they're all puppets. They're gonna be pretty small compared to Red Guy. Also, height =/= age. Remember when the smallest in the house in the Family episode was revealed to be the father? Also, if we're going by height, why isn't Duck considered a child too then?
"He's too stupid/doesn't act like an adult."
We see in episode 6 that the reason he acts the way he does is because his batteries are dying. Also "stupidity" =/= age. Half the time Red Guy and Duck are just as dumb (if not more) than Yellow Guy in their actions So I really don't get why people use this one as an argument. It also feels a bit ableist to consider "not smart" people as children.
Wow. All of this even when I've fully disregarded the Pilot episode (I did this because some of you may consider it "not canon" because it was scrapped) and the webseries. I can't believe I even had to make this post, but it had to be done or else I'd lose my head! Thanks for reading if you made it this far!
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argumentativeaxolotl · 4 months
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Hii, can you do random headcanons human au about lightning and doc? Like a father/son relationship?
Yes! I can do that for you! Thanks for asking ^^
LIGHTNING & DOC FATHER/SON HEADCANONS(HUMANIZED)?!? REAL?!:
Im so sorry there aren’t too many 😭 for some reason I’ve been struggling with concepts so if I think of any good ones later, I’ll add them back here! I hope you like these my friend!
- In my AU at least, Lightning never had a stable home-life, constantly jumping from foster home to foster home and sometimes said foster homes wouldn’t be the best. I’d assume thanks to his unfortunate circumstances, he never really had anybody take care of him until Mack and Doc arrived- even then there was only so much Mack could do or say in fear of getting fired or something.
- Doc loves Lightning(this is obvious), but the kid cannot cook for the life of him so whenever Lightning does something nice for Doc and makes food for him, and it ends up genuinely being shit or inedible, Doc will still eat it anyways because of how happy Lightning looks when he does.
- Lightning’s love language is gifts and making things for other people(even if he thinks he’s good at it, but really isn’t). I’d imagine Doc has a lot of random nicknacks and bracelets from Lightning lmao.
- I think that the first time Lightning accidentally called Doc Dad he got so scared and embarrassed that he fucking bolted out the door, ran to his 95, and raced outta town like a bat out of hell. He’s like “fuck I can’t go back and show my face! Doc’s gonna think I’m weird or something!!!!” But then doc’s like,”You think of me as a dad?! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰” and immediately goes out after Lightning and brings him home- possibly having a heart to heart or something.
- Doc will do very small things that mean the world to Lightning, such as taking him to the store with him, going on small trips with him, just generally making Lightning feel wanted and just spending time with him.
- This one’s not necessarily Lightning and Doc only and is sorta canon, but Doc is everyone’s father 💀💀💀. Doesn’t matter who you are, as soon as you step foot in Radiator Springs once and you plan to stay for more than half an hour, then you are his kid. You have been adopted.
- Doc gave Lightning a bedtime. And Lightning was not happy abt it 😭. Lightning, despite being a mostly functioning adult, was still taking horrible care of himself(likely due to Harv’s harmful teaching and shitty “philosophies”. Fuck that guy) and would go to bed at seriously ungodly hours, even during race weekends which was a no no for obvious reasons. There was also the fact that Lightning got snippy and short whenever he didn’t sleep and everyone on the team was simply too nice to say anything until Doc did. I’d imagine it was because Lightning decided it would be a good idea to mouth off to the man after a race that went awry and he said stuff he didn’t mean. Doc would likely then realize the kid needed to have a nap before he collapsed or whatever then magically after said nap he was a bit better. Doc then decided that the kid’s bedtime would be 10:30 on the dot. Lightning, deciding he was an adult, complained to the man to which Doc replied with how shitty the kid had been acting which led to Lightning having a realization and leading to him apologizing his team who were more than forgiving and understood.
- Lightning’s a fuckingn iPad kid and Doc knows it and uses it to his advantage 💀💀. Whenever Doc just needs a second to himself or wants to disappear without worrying Lightning(a note or two would be written and left on the counter as well) he’ll leave a documentary- likely about prehistoric animals or modern animals- playing on the TV that will invest Lightning until Doc gets back.
- While having a stable father figure is new to Lightning, having a son-figure is for Doc as well. After Lightning called him dad, Doc has been reading every parenting guide book and news article and children’s mental health guide he could get his hands on. He didn’t want to mess up with the kid and he was still young(Doc knew Lightning didn’t have an all-too stable home-life, why else would he never talk to his parents or family members if he even had any?) and decently impressionable- plus there was all that deep-rooted shit Harv fucked Lightning up with. Doc did not want to hurt the kid and so he did his best with what he could, but it was hard since Lightning wasn’t exactly a child. Doc does his best anyways.
- Doc always gives 101% of his attention to Lightning, even when he’s physically doing something else such as making coffee. Doc loves listening to Lightning’s sometimes nonsensical rambles and rants about dinosaurs(Lightning is 100% a Dinosaur kid I know one when I see one for I am also one) and will listen when he starts nervously rambling about them during a race as well. He’ll always listen to his rants and stories, doing his best to keep up with the youngster. He’s glad Lightning loves sharing his interests with him and everyone in Radiator Springs. Lightning himself loves that he’s allowed to just keep talking all he wants and so he does, but he doesn’t have to “make sure” they’re still listening like he’d have to with Harv or shitty old friends of his because they’d all be paying attention anyways, even while busy. It made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
- Doc teaches Lightning how to do DIY shit or how to fix things(aside from cars. I’d imagine they bond on that. Maybe this one can be changed to Doc taught Lightning about the insides of a car? Like “if you wanna race, you can’t just know the pedals and wheel. You gotta know everything about your car” or something. Little lesson yk?) like doorframes or putting together IKEA furniture(screaming and crying). I’d imagine he loves teaching Lightning how to do woodshop and Lightning loves making little sculptures.
- For his first Father’s Day in Radiator Springs, Lightning decided to get the entire town involved since he wasn’t entirely sure what Doc liked and didn’t like that he could get the man. With his little dilemma, he went to everyone in the town getting input from everybody- some ranging from getting Doc an entire new tool kit or some sort of organizer thing to a nice set of overalls Doc could wear when fixing up the Hornet or working on projects. I like to think that maybe the entire town also get him things and nicknacks since everybody realized how much of a father Doc was. I think Lightning would be like,”fuck what do I get him 😰😰” Sally would be like,”BRO JUST GET HIM SOMETHING. HE’LL LOVE IT EITHER WAY ESPECIALLY IF IT COMES FROM YOU!” And then he decides to get Doc everything the others said anyways to which Doc is surprised and proves Sally right by saying something like,”Kid, you’re the only gift I need.” Or something corny. Maybe even like,”Kid, these are all wonderful, but you didn’t have to get all of these just for me.” Or sumn. Doc 101% uses all of the items everyday tho.
I’m sorry if these are a little short I’ll add some more later if k come up with good ones lol
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shinjisdone · 9 months
Note
I saw you're doing requests and I do not request often but- Take this if you want?
Yandere! Link (Twilight Princess) (Romantic as I think he's an adult in the game? Sorry if not, been awhile. Platonic works too) with Female! Reader Scenario? (One of my fav games, lol)
Do what you want with it... idk what prompts to ask for :/
If you don't want to do this please tell me! I read the rules and picked something simple :) Take your time! 🐈‍⬛
😳 THE yandere-galore panther taking requests from me? Usually its the other way around haha
Prompts are not a must if you really don't know what you want, though I gotta admit I had to ponder a bit since the request has no specifications. Things are pretty general therefore but I had to add a few things to get creative. This turned out longer since I like to develop Yandereness especially - it's always interesting to see from where the sprout stems from and how it'll grow. Otherwise it feels too forced and sudden to me. Have been following for quite a while, hope you like this!
TW: Yandere behaviour, obsession, long pining, idolization, one-sided feelings, obliviousness, stalking, aggression, blood and killing
Yandere! Twilight Princess! Link Scenario with Female!Reader (Romantic)
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All your good deeds turned into sin, it seems.
Or at least some form of karma, but you didn't know enough about that to truly tell. It was just a gut feeling.
You are nothing but a wandering traveller. Knowledge of self-defense goes without saying, especially since the land of Hyrule turned so hostile over time. According to old legend a calamity is soon to approach, which only makes you yearn for serenity even more.
Ordon village sounds so tempting. Small and humble, the entire village feels nothing like the rest of the outside. The people certainly looked at you weird for deciding to stay here for a while - the most exciting thing to happen after all are raging goats!
Thus you were saved from one by a quick-witted, local fellow seemingly grappling with the animal before it calmed down and he offered you his hand. His light brown hair and deep blue eyes were welcoming and you took the offer.
"Thank you."
He said his name was Link.
»»————-  ————-««»»————-  ————-«
The children weren't as relaxed as the adults though. Even as their parents called out for them to help in the shop or with the goats, all four of them would stick close to you, each jumping to your side as they asked questions upon questions about 'the traveler lady!' The rest of Hyrule wasn't something they'd see or even hear from often. It was deemed as exciting to be able to go to the castle town to deliver some milk.
How is the town? Have you ever crossed that big bridge? Were you ever up at that Death Mountain? Can you catch bigger fish in that giant lake? Have you met the knights, soldiers and their princess?
All of these things were also asked by Link.
He bashfully admitted to being a regular country pumpkin as you sat beside each other by the river, fishing. He managed to please the kids with a promise to play as they finally left you alone. Rubbing the back of his neck, he couldn't hide the excitement on his face nor the stammer in his voice as you told him of your stories.
"The most exciting thing I'll ever do in my life is probably deliver that milk. Can't lie, I am lookin' forward to it..." He chuckled sheepishly. Shaking your head, you offered a smile.
"You should go out of the village more often. You're old enough now, I'm sure you'll grow to like everything you'll see and meet."
You smiled at him. It cheered him up, admittedly. You looking at him like that felt special too, perhaps because you weren't from here and encouraged him to go, even if it meant leaving the village and his goat-herding duties behind for a while.
»»————-  ————-««»»————-  ————-«
If only he never left.
Though for whatever reason that thing called it a lucky coincidence, a deal.
He ran back towards the forest, rushing by the familiar lake where the children went missing. It happened too fast and even though they adored him, looked up to him, he could barely realize what was happening before the world went dark and darker and darker.
His heart pounded against his ribcage, the shadow tailing after him in high speed which only made his panic grow more. How could this have happened? Where is everyone and are they still well?
His pants turned and echoed in a yelp - then a growl. He couldn't control it, it sank into his brain as he saw the glimmer of a blade shooting up this close to his face.
Gritting his teeth, his blue eyes shot up big. Frozen in place he looked up as the weapon was slowly withdrawn.
"...You don't have to be scared."
Link did not notice he was shaking.
Quickly he realized it was you, the 'traveler lady', as you kneeled down and took a good look at him. The young man was confused on how you kept calm as your hands gingerly grazed his fur. Your hands went down to his chained paw and a frown graced your face. "You poor thing. No wonder you are so terrified."
Link was hesitant but could not deny your guess.
Eagerly you tried to remove the chain, even if it did not affect him. Adamently working on it you suceeded even if it costed you time and tools...your gentle hands soothed the irritated skin with your own oilments that you carried.
"It's best if you don't go into the village. The children went missing...and the parents are distraught. You better go home to your own family, little one."
You gave one last pet and smiled as you returned to Ordon Village.
»»————-  ————-««»»————-  ————-«
You thought this would be last time you saw the curious wolf. Yet here he is, having trouble as he carried a wooden shield and hauling it through the dark. As the villagers investigated the strange sounds coming from him, you were quick to distract them. Swiftly hiding him behind a house, you ducked him down.
You ask him what he is doing here, take away the shield - which he fights against almost pleadingly - and shush him from the worried parents.
"Everyone's drowning in worry." You pet him up and down, whispering, "...I really hoped I could stay here for a while, get away from all this chaos outside. But even such a sweet village like this one gets attacked...kidnapping kids...and the Link fella is gone, too..." You trail off but try to smile as the wolf whimpers. Inhaling deeply and forcing a grin you drown him in pats and cuddles. "But don't worry...! I promised them to get the children back! I don't know where they are or where to start...but I'll get them back. I swear, Wolfie!" You laughed as you petted him more, which only made the animal grin. He had long sat down and listenend to your words.
Link was unsure if you were even real when he first saw you that night. The twilight blinded him as that Midna thing mockingly told him of the possible fate of his friends. The people, the spirits - they all whimpered as his sight, smell, touch and hearing changed. All that he knew was different and he might never turn back into the real Link.
You, this new and mysterious woman, were the only thing that seemed real to him. The blade you shoved into his snout, the paw you healed and your hands that combed through his fur - all of this were the only things that felt warm and familiar in this twilight. He hoped you'd be fine. If only he could turn back to his real self and help you. He'd feel better if he had you as a companion and not that shadow imp.
»»————-  ————-««»»————-  ————-«
Lake Hylia is grand, Death Mountain steep, and the castle town empty. It's strange to think that he is right here, seeing all the things you saw and encouraged him to. Though the circumstances turned out to be much more meaningful than a simple country pumpkin such as him could have ever imagined.
Midna was right, Hyrule is so close to its doom. All he wanted was to get back to the children and maybe meet you again as you were looking for them too. Though still as a wolf you left for your quest. And now here he is at Kakariko Village. Here to save the kids but to also have to climb Death Mountain first. It's what he as a 'chosen hero' has to do.
Still, he ignored Midna's request as his blue eyes wandered the dry and sandy place. Link found the children quickly and as they pointed to the an opening door, his face lit up. A familiar woman stepped out and he could see you squint your eyes in confusion while he ran up to you. Holding firmly on your arms you were first startled before the young man explained himself.
"Link? Oh, Link! I didn't recognize you, you're so green now!" You pointed out and he couldn't help but laugh. He told you of what happened and what he had to do.
"Are you sure you must? You went missing too, I mean you must be as confused as the kids. You don't have to force yourself if you were hurt as well." There was your concern again, the same one on that night. Even as he assured you, you offered to help but both of you decided that you stay with the children...even if he would have loved to have your company and spend some time together. He was sure you would be of great help and support.
"Well, Death Mountain is hot and dangerous but if you made it so far, you'll be fine. Might as well finally get to see it." You chuckled sheepishly, trying to lift the mood.
»»————-  ————-««»»————-  ————-«
He thought he'd be free from his curse already, the spirit said so. Promised him so but here he is back on all four paws with Midna dying on his back. His pants grew rapid, panicking as the shadow imp almost fell off when he acted to quickly and too carelessly.
What to do? Where to go? Midna is dying...and he is just some animal again! Stuck in this lake, in this desert! The night grows darker and the people more hollow. With a pounding heart he tried to sneak out of the Kakariko's cave first -
"Wolfie...?"
If it weren't for you again.
You knelt down to him as he anxiously turned his snout to his back. Carefully you took Midna, for who you mistook for some kind of baby. As you nervously tried to make sense of the situation, the wolf jumped at you, his eyes wide and bright with his paws on your shoulders as he barked and barked and barked. Please, please, please, do something as you did in Ordon. You have to, you must.
Link is useless like this.
"...Hey," Gingerly you cupped his cheek and wondered how a wolf could be getting misty-eyed. You wiped the fresh tears away. "Wolfie, Wolfie..." Whispering you lean his head against yours and onto your shoulder. You shush him as Midna lays on your lap, caressing his back as he ceased to shake. "You poor thing." Again, you said that again. Adjusting the creature on your lap, you wrapped your arms around the animal and nuzzled his fur. Your lips met his cheek and lingered there as you whispered; "You'll be fine. Everything's gonna be fine again, I promise you."
Link felt like crying again. You were the only one.
»»————-  ————-««»»————-  ————-«
Again, you were the only thing that seemed real as his existance as a wild animal.
Midna was the only one to talk to and her personality and motivation left a lot to be desired. She proved her heart was noble but that wouldn't deter her from her jabs. Link could only show his unrest through growls and yips, which she only brushed off with a roll of her eye and taps to his back to hurry up instead.
Even as he ran through the swamps and forest, the dead castle town and plateus, he could often sniff you from afar. Often you found yourself meeting up with the mysterious wolf and it was delightful after he got better. It was even more delightful for Link.
Whatever happened to the 'baby' was left as an enigma to you.
With a groan Midna would retreat into his shadow, mumbling how much time they are wasting again on his little, favorite human, as the wolf appraoched you with a wagging tail. Small recaps of your own adventures and a round of pats were always included.
You could be focused on a task at hand, fight off against monsters or ride through the meadow but the moment you noticed him you'd turn around and your lovely face would lit up. 'Wolfie!' You'd yell out and Link has grown to love no word more than this one. It felt a bit demeaning at the beginning but that just meant you always liked him from the start, right?
Liked him even while he is stuck in this hideous form. He didn't know how long he'd be stuck in there and if he will ever get his human form back, no matter how much Midna promised him, but at least, at least you were here. This wonderful woman with a smile that could rival the sun.
"You be careul on your way now, okay, Wolfie?" You chuckle as he barked in response, turned in a circle and jumped up on you again. His snout searched for your lips.
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You inhaled deeply. This must be...the third time now, if you aren't mistaken.
Castle town seemed dimmer and more hollow the last time you were here and while it was a firm reminder of how much you wanted to leave in the first place, something more sinister has entered this place recently and you can't shake it off. The town square is brimming with a hopeless crowd but you reckon you always hear a cheerful voice calling out to you. Often you find yourself turning around and seeing the image of a hand waving as green ghosts around and between the merchants. The calls seem to drown between the mumbles and even the bar, the one place still full of superficial but pleasant talks felt suffocating. As if entering the wide space was walking into a pair of arms squeezing you from both sides.
The woman behind the counter often raised her brow when you entered until one day she finally spoke up. Apparently somebody's been looking for their good friend, a beautiful gal and you fit the regular's description perfectly. From head to toe. With a worried tone that you couldn't hide, you told the barkeeper that you travel alone.
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Castle town became too asphyxiating, your gut feeling telling you to escape in a hurry to Kakariko village, to familiar faces. You still owed the Ordon elders the promise of returning their children unharmed, after all.
And so you did, pushing Colin out of the way and losing sight of the world as a monstrous goblin took ahold of you with the last thing you heard being aggressive galloping and your name screamed out.
Eyes shot awake as you tumbled to the ground, rolling away from the Elden bridge, coughing. Your arms were too weak as you shakily tried to sit up - the rest of the world blurry and dipped in twilight as more screams echoed about. Squinting, you turned around to see something akin to a giant boar falling down right after Link pulled his sword out of its abdomen. With a squishing sound the blinding blade was torn out of it, creating a bigger hole in its flesh. The cry was cut short as it fell to the ground and a pool of blood quickly tainted the rest of its body.
You let out a gasp and at the slightest sound, Link's ear twitched and he swiftly turned around, his face immediately morphing from a glare to a grin. Swinging the blood off his weapon, he rushed over to you and putting his sword back. He unwittingly created a small trail of blood after him. His bloodied arms shot out for you, supporting you as he sat you up. The young man started talking and gushing while you stared up at him, helplessly leaning on him while still beside yourself.
"...Link...?" "You're safe now." He instantly countered with a smile that was meant to reassure you. You swore his eyes were cold as he gave the final blow but now they are the softest you've ever seen. "I saw what you did, you saved Colin. That was so...amazing of you but you gave me a heart attack." Finally, you were able to slowly go back to your senses. "What? You weren't there..."
"Didn't you hear me call you?" You blinked and again, asked him what he meant. 'At Castle town', he grinned and said he saw you. You didn't hear him though. And when he arrived at Kakariko also you did not hear him.
"W-What...?" You let out but were shushed as your head was put on his shoulder. Closing his eyes as he combed through your hair and pressed you further into his body. "You'll be fine. Everything's gonna be fine again, I promise you." He shushed you again as you attempted to speak up and just nuzzled you.
It felt good to repay a favor, be the one who saved you this time. It felt just as good, if not a bit different, to have you in his arms, with him being your hero.
Not the other way around. Though he does not mind that.
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Colin's face soured as you explained yourself.
How could he not? A child that you promised to bring home watching you leave for an 'extended period of time' leaving all of Eldin to go to Ranelle. Far, far away.
The little tent you built yourself in the corner of Lake Hylia should be safe and hidden enough. Close enough for fish and far away from monsters. Yet just as you were about to lay down, you heard unusual bickering and turned around, only to once again meet green.
Letting out a yelp, you dropped your weapon in shock only for Link to bring his finger to his lips and shush you. He pointed to himself again and again that he was indeed Link. "What are you doing here?" You manage to let out as you calmed down, "I have to be here." He answered quickly yet you doubted that. "Why are you here? You just left and," He licked his lips, "I was worried about you!" He took a step closer before you could reply.
"It's dangerous to be alone out here. Especially for you, yer..." He couldn't help the grin, "You...you're a beautiful gal and it's best if you aren't alone...say, since we both are here, why don't we stick together? You offered me your help once and I always would have loved to have you with me for a bit..."
"How did you find me?" You took a step back and eyed your weapon on the ground. Link only looked confused. "I...saw you here on the way to the lake. It's easy to spot you." He chuckled sheepishly but you only shook your head and crossed your arms. "...No, thank you. I came here to...relax a bit. The recent events were...frightening."
"I can imagine," Once again his blue eyes softened and he neared you again, putting a hand on your cheek. He missed the way you twitched. "None of this is your responsibilty...yet you choose to help anyway. You're kind...and sweet as honey. That's so amazing of you." Link almost seemed mesmerized as his eyes narrowed. "But you'll have me...I can look out for you, I can protect you-"
"I won't go." You take his hand off your cheek and distance yourself again, finally having the courage to glare at him - in turn, he only looked more confused. "But why? You love Wolfie but when it comes to me, you vanish. Are you shyer around a human than an animal?" He tried to laugh it off even as he saw your face morphing into shock. Quickly you ask him with a stammering voice how he knows that but he seems to ignore it. "I am no different...you saved me a dozens of times! And I," He hesitates but lets it all go as he takes ahold of your shoulders, "I...I think I fancy you and I have been waitin' for so long to at least spend time with you! The only other times we see each other is when you don't understand me, when I'm just some wild beast!"
"But even then you seem like the only one who understood me, the only real one between all these ghosts! So, as payback, at least let me protect you...let me help you. We could be doin' this together."
Link wastes no time to shove you into his chest, into an embrace. He nuzzles your head and his lips met your temple. "I'll defeat the darkness and then we can see the rest of the world together, okay?"
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