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navybrat817 · 9 months

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Negotiations

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You meet with Andy to discuss the terms of your potential contract. Word Count: Over 4.2k Warnings: Slow burn, reader is broke (is that a warning?), sugar daddy offer, tension, slight insecurities, negotiations, inner monologue, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?) Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics , Header - yours truly A/N: Welcome back to my Terms and Conditions AU! Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thanks!), but any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Work felt like the longest shift even though it was only a few hours. You saw the customers through a different set of eyes as you served them. You wondered how many of them struggled like you or what they would do if someone like Andy entered their lives. If you came to an agreement with him on everything, you weren't sure if you'd ever step foot in the diner again after you quit. Not because you were embarrassed.

It was merely time to look forward.

And look my best.

You turned to the side when you checked your reflection. Estelle had way too much fun picking out an outfit for you. After carefully searching and sneakily looking at the price tag so she didn’t splurge, you opted for a sleeveless, blazer style dress. Nothing over the top or too fancy. You still wanted to look like you while looking professional.

Though she insisted it was your birthday gift, along with the surprisingly comfortable black heels, you planned to pay her back. Whether from the money Andy gave you or once you got your paycheck months from now at your new job. If she refused, you’d tell her the only gift you needed was her support and she gave that to you. Like she knew you were thinking about it, she messaged you.

“Good luck! I know you look hot! Knock his socks and pants off! He better give you everything you deserve!”

You had to smile at her enthusiasm. “It’s his office. His pants are staying on.”

“You say that now, but he’s the boss. You’ll change your tune once he has his hands on you.”

Laughing as you tucked your phone away, you couldn’t completely disagree with her. Andy robbed you of your breath whenever you saw him and it surprised you that you could maintain logical thinking when he was close by. You had to maintain that rational headspace today. He was a man used to people telling him what he wanted to hear. As an ex-lawyer and businessman, he could sway things in his favor if you weren’t careful.

Considering what he was offering you, it didn’t once feel like he was taking advantage of your misfortunes.

You stopped yourself from messaging Andy that you were on your way. He was a busy man with more important stuff to deal with than a check-in from you. It would be one of the topics of discussion shortly anyhow. Would he want to know where you are at all times or would he be content with the occasional message?

How much control will he want over me? How much do I want to give him?

Thanking and paying the cab driver as you arrived at the building, you didn't feel as out of your element the way you did at the restaurant. The office setting was familiar. It was bittersweet going inside though for something that wasn't work or an interview. Maybe this was better.

You held your head high as if it was.

I can do this.

You handed your bag over for the security officer to check while he verified your identification. Satisfied once he double checked your name and ID, he handed you a guest badge and allowed you to go to the elevators. It comforted you that Andy and his employees were safe when they went into his building. You wondered how often you'd be here or if he'd keep you away from his office outside of functions.

You avoided looking at anyone as you got into the elevator, though you felt the eyes of a couple of men sweep over your body. It didn’t matter what they thought. Andy was the only one you wanted to look good for. As you passed by each floor, the more you worried about breaking into a sweat. You shifted back and forth until the door opened.

One step closer.

It took you a second to move your feet forward and turn down the hall. It seemed to stretch on for miles, the door at the end of it was large and daunting. It was like entering the lion’s den, but you weren't afraid. Even if you did pause again before you turned the handle and walked in.

An older woman, Irene according to the nameplate on her desk, sat outside of a set of double doors, giving you a kind smile as she looked up from her keyboard. You didn't let her appearance fool you. Anyone who worked for someone as powerful as Andy likely had thick skin and a "take no crap" attitude.

"How may I help you?"

"Hi. I'm here to see Andy Barber," you replied, giving her your name and inwardly wincing. Of course, she knew you were there to see him. Why else would you be there?

"Yes, Mr. Barber is expecting you," she smiled, pressing the intercom on her desk. "Mr. Barber, your 4pm is here."

"Send her in, please."

It isn't fair that he sounds sexy through a speaker box.

"May I get you anything to drink?" she asked.

"No, thank you," you smiled, following her as she opened the double doors.

This is it.

The office was just as you imagined, the walls lined with a mixture of art and accolades. A small table and chairs sat on one side with a couch on the other. It was elegant, but the man behind the desk drew your attention. Sunlight filtered in through the floor to ceiling windows behind Andy, casting a halo around him as he stood up. A symbol of power and authority in his black suit with the skyline behind him, you found it difficult to take your next breath.

He looks like he was born to be in charge.

"It's good to see you again," Andy smiled, walking around the desk and gesturing to the table. "Why don't we sit over here? Did Irene offer you a drink?"

"Of course, I did, Mr. Barber. And before you remind me, I know to hold your calls," she chastised him, which only made him chuckle before she smiled at you. "I'll be just outside if you need anything."

I knew it. Take no crap.

"Thank you," you said, giggling as you walked to the table. "I like her."

"I do, too. She keeps me on my toes," he said as he pulled out the chair for you. "How was your day?"

"Uneventful," you replied, setting your bag beside you. It was nice that he asked. "How are you?"

"My day was just fine," he said, taking a seat. He had a notepad waiting there, similar to yours.

"That's good."

He gave you a half smile and you debated whether or not to continue with small talk. "Nervous?"

“A little bit,” you said, refusing to lie to him. It wouldn’t start things off on the right foot if you did. “I didn’t have ‘Sugar Daddy Negotiations’ on my BINGO card this year.”

He chuckled, the sound beautiful in the large space. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t either," he joked. "And you don’t look nervous.”

“It actually does,” you smiled. “How do I look?”

“You look beautiful.”

“Oh,” you said, your cheeks growing warmer the longer he gazed at you. While you wanted that to be his reaction, it was somehow unexpected. “I wasn’t fishing for a compliment, by the way.”

“And I wasn’t taking the bait. I’m telling you what I see.”

“Thank you. This was a birthday gift from Estelle,” you said, smoothing out the dress even though you were sitting. Why you felt the need to tell him, you weren’t sure.

“It’s a beautiful dress, but I was talking about your smile,” he said, his lip tugging in a small smile of his own before he cleared his throat. “As much as I’d like to sit here and continue to shower you with praise, maybe we should save that for another time.”

Your throat went dry at the implication, but you didn't want to get ahead of yourself. “Of course."

"Today is about figuring out our terms and setting expectations. I plan to take notes as we go along, if you don't mind."

"That's fine because I plan to do the same," you explained as you took out your notepad. "I’ve made a list of things I believe we should discuss and agree on before moving forward."

“You’re prepared,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. "And getting down to business like last time."

“I do what I can,” you said, glancing at the first item on your list. “First thing is the length of our contract. You mentioned Mr. Huffman’s merger could take a few months, but there’s no definitive timeframe. My proposal is six months or when the job becomes available, whichever comes sooner.”

He considered your words carefully. “I spoke with Scott again and a merger like this may take a minimum of six months due to the range of variables. I propose a year or when the job becomes available. It hopefully won’t take that long, but I’d feel more comfortable if we have more time as opposed to less.”

A year was a long time, but you understood his perspective. “Why don’t we meet in the middle? Nine months.”

“Nine months, but if the merger is still pending at that time, we can revisit the contract and extend it if needed,” he proposed.

“Agreed,” you said, jotting down your notes on your pad while he did the same. “My job. You said I would need to quit and I’d be unable to take another position while under contract. I have no objections to that, but I won’t flat-out quit the diner. I’ll put in my two week notice. If they tell me not to come back, that’s on them.”

“I think that’s the respectable thing to do,” he said, nodding to your pad. “I don’t know where living arrangements are on your list, but I’d like to discuss that next.”

You wanted to discuss your free time since you wouldn't have a job any longer, but you would circle back to that. “Okay. You said over lunch that you’re not comfortable with me staying in my current place.”

“I did and I stand by that. I understand that my building doesn’t guarantee complete safety over yours because anything could happen anywhere at any time, but knowing you’re close by would help put me at ease. I have a loft ready to go and you can treat it as your own place. If something isn’t to your liking, we can change it within reason.”

“Within reason?”

Andy smirked slightly. “I can’t exactly take a sledgehammer to the wall if you want to make the space bigger,” he said, taking out his phone and pulling up an image. “But it’s a nice place. Feel free to swipe through it.”

The photos were beautiful and the living room alone looked larger than your entire apartment. “Is spending time at your place an expectation?” you asked.

“I’d like it if you did for an occasional dinner, but I understand if you'd rather not. I'd also like to meet you once a month outside of contractual obligations to talk.”

Sounds like a date. Is it though?

“I agree to the loft, the occasional dinner, and meeting with you once a month," you agreed. It wasn't overwhelming or demanding. You'd still have a sense of independence. "But I’d like to keep my current apartment. If I take this job in the upcoming months, I can't expect you to cover the loft anymore and I doubt I could afford it even with a decent salary. I’ll need a place to go back to until I find something better.”

"I own it," he said. He wasn't bragging in your mind. He was stating a fact.

"I doubt I could afford your rent then. I keep my apartment."

“Done,” he said after a moment. You were glad he agreed. Your apartment was still yours. “Which is a good segway into expenses. As a reminder, I plan to cover the rent for your current apartment, along with any bills associated with it such as cable or internet. If you prefer to shut those off during the contract, we can. I’ll also cover your cell phone, insurance, credit card bills, student loans, any debt you pay on a monthly basis. Oh, and groceries.”

Tears filled your eyes as he opened his mouth to continue. The more you tried to compose yourself, the more your face scrunched up. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. You hadn't expected to get emotional, but actually hearing him say he’d cover your monthly bills and help you stay on top of everything was unreal. You'd sleep better at night knowing you had nothing to worry about.

I probably look ridiculous.

“Don’t be,” he said gently, handing you his handkerchief so you could dab your eyes.

“I’m just,” you stopped to take a breath. It was okay to be vulnerable. That was part of communicating. “I’ve carried this stress on my shoulders and knowing that you’re going to take some of that weight away is… I’m never going to be able to repay you for that or thank you enough.”

“I don’t expect a monetary repayment nor would I want that. I told you, honey. You're an honest and kind person. Your company is going to be more than enough.”

He sounds too good to be true.

“You say that now, but you'll grow tired of me,” you teased, holding out your hand to give him the handkerchief. “Thank you.”

He shook his head and refused to take it back. “Keep it. And considering I offered a year for this, I know I won't grow tired of your company,” he said, a bit of concern in his eyes as you sniffled. “Are you okay to continue? We can take a break.”

“I'm fine,” you promised, straightening up and feeling lighter, like the weight was already gone. “We were discussing expenses.”

“Yes,” he smiled, gesturing to your outfit. “I plan to take you shopping so you can have a few outfits, jewelry, shoes, make-up, and whatever else you need ready for the planned upcoming events, as well as some dressed down outfits so you’re comfortable when we travel and to spruce up your wardrobe if you’d like.”

Careful. You’re going to spoil me.

“I’m also going to deposit two thousand dollars into your account each month for your leisure,” he added, writing it on his pad as if that was the final say in the matter.

“Two thousand dollars?!” you nearly shouted. You weren’t trying to sound hysterical, but you failed. “I’m sorry, but who spends that much on clothes each month?!”

Andy looked like he was trying not to laugh at the incredulous look on your face. “You don’t have to spend it on clothes. It’s for you to use as you wish.”

“But you’re already buying me a whole new wardrobe AND covering all of my bills and expenses for nine months. I’m assuming you're covering travel expenses, too?”

“I will,” he confirmed.

“Then there’s no reason why I’d need that much money,” you said with a shake of your head. Estelle would probably tease you for not agreeing, but it was too much. “I can’t possibly need more than five hundred a month.”

“One thousand,” he said firmly as you narrowed your eyes. “Humor me, honey. Please?”

You tapped your pen against the pad as you thought it over. You really didn’t see a reason for that much, but you could put any leftover funds each month into savings. It would be good to pay Estelle back.

Plus, how could you argue when Andy gave you a sweet smile?

“Fine. One thousand each month,” you said, ignoring the look of satisfaction in his eyes. “Okay. We’ve discussed the length of the contract, my job, living arrangements, expenses, which includes traveling. How about traveling itself?”

“Is your passport current?” he asked.

“It is.”

“Good. Some of the traveling will require us to go out of the country and you’ll need it handy. We’ll need to coordinate our schedules so you can block off dates in your calendar. We’ll most likely share a suite for any non-local events, but I’m not going to make you share a bed with me. You have my word.”

You nodded as you wrote that down. It was a bit of a surprise that he didn’t expect you to sleep with him. “Thank you, Andy,” you said, pointing at him with your pen. “But I’m planning to tell Estelle about every function, big or small, so she knows where I am. I won’t budge on that.”

“You’re allowed to give her the details. You said you trust her and that she can be discreet.”

You could never picture Andy as a creep, but the confirmation that he wouldn't force you to sleep with him and that Estelle would know what's going on helped you relax. "If I'm not working or going to functions with you, what am I doing with the rest of my time?" you asked.

Does he expect me to be at his beck and call?

"I'm glad you asked. It's your time to do what you want. Relax, hang out with friends, pamper yourself. Minus the days you'll have blocked out in your calendar, the time is yours," he explained, lightly twirling his pen in his hand. The motion momentarily distracted you. "I only ask if you plan to leave the city to tell me, that way I know you're unavailable if anything last minute comes up."

You weren't sure what you were going to do with that extra time. While a nine month long vacation sounded nice, you didn't want it to be all leisure. You needed somewhat of a routine. Maybe you could take some self development courses to prepare for going back to the office.

"That's fair. I don't have any plans to leave the city, but I'll be sure to let you know if I do," you said, hoping you weren't missing anything as you looked over what you had written down. "What if I’m sick or there’s an emergency and I can't be with you?”

“Then you won’t go," he said as a matter of fact. "I’d never ask you to choose between this arrangement and your well-being or family. Depending on the situation, I could miss it to help you.”

That was unexpected. Andy shouldn't have to put you ahead of any of his obligations. The offer though, even if it never came to fruition, warmed your insides. "That's kind of you, Andy," you said softly before you cleared your throat. “The last topic I have written down is sex.”

“No,” he said, something unreadable in his eyes at the suggestion. “Sex is not on the table because I’m not going to pay you for that.”

“Oh,” you said, quickly scratching it off your list. It was admirable on his part, but also slightly disappointing. Clearly you misread some of the signals. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply-”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he assured you, placing his hand over yours before you could pull it away. “If I sounded harsh, I’m sorry. I understand sex is an expectation for some arrangements, but it isn’t for me and I would never want you to feel pressured to be physical with me. I also have no judgments against anyone who pays for sex. My preference regarding intimacy is for it to happen organically.”

“I appreciate the explanation,” you said. This was a business transaction to him. That much was clear. But knowing his reasoning behind it did help. “As far as being affectionate at functions, what’s your take on that? Or going on dates?”

“I may have my arm around you or keep you close to my side, but nothing more if you’re uncomfortable with that. If you are, please tell me and I’ll stop immediately,” he answered before a moment of silence stretched on. "You're asking if we're going to go on dates?"

"You mentioned meeting once a month. Is that a date?"

He waited a few seconds before he answered. "It's a chance for us to meet up and talk. I don't want to demand a title for those moments. That isn't fair to you."

It wasn't a "yes" or "no" answer. Maybe after his divorce and not knowing if people genuinely wanted to connect with him, he wasn't interested in the dating scene. "Okay."

He leaned back in his chair with a hum. “You deviated from the sex discussion quickly.”

“You said it wasn’t on the table,” you reminded him. You weren't about to make a fool of yourself by pushing.

“I said I wasn’t going to pay you for sex. I never said sex wasn’t on the table at all,” he pointed out. You jumped to the conclusion that he didn't want it because it wouldn't be part of the contract. “Any discussion we have regarding that, I’d prefer not to be in a contract form.”

“So if it does happen, we’ll work through it together naturally?” you asked, not wanting to get your hopes up.

His gaze softened considerably. “Yes, we would. And I’d hope you’d trust me enough to know I’d treat you well and take care of you.”

"I do," you said.

"But sex and a relationship aren't expectations of our agreement or outside of it," he said, taking his hand away from yours. "I want to make that clear."

Andy driving the point home was what you needed, as saddening as it was. At the end of the day, it was a contract. He was paying you for your company. Surely he didn't want anything else. "Thank you for reiterating that. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss that I missed?"

His expression remained neutral, but you imagined it disappointed him that you shifted the conversation back to business. Wishful thinking on your part. "Yeah. The only other thing I wanted to discuss is the possibility of you having a driver."

"A driver?" you asked. Wasn't that a bit much? "I don't mind taking cabs or Ubers."

"I understand that, but I'd prefer if you had a driver. If you have to meet me for an event and I can't escort you myself, they will know exactly where to go. You also won't have to pay for someone to drive you around if you want to go anywhere."

"But you're paying them," you said.

"My job is to cover your expenses," he shrugged, leaning his head back and reaching up to loosen his tie. You stared for far too long. "Told you I want to take care of you, honey."

You shifted in your seat, hoping he didn't take any notice. "I want to pick the driver," you said, a little more breathy than before.

That poor driver is likely going to be bored for the next three quarters of a year being my chauffeur.

"From a selection of my choosing. They're all trustworthy."

"I'm giving Estelle the details of that, too," you said.

"I expect nothing less," he smiled, catching your eye. "Is there anything else you'd like to discuss?"

"Not that I can think of," you said.

He tapped the notepad with his pen. "I'm going to have a contract drawn up, but I won't ask you to sign it for a week. This will give you time to back out if you need to and it will also give you a few days to contact me should you think of anything else."

"One week," you whispered. Could you wait that long? What if you did think of something else?

"Until then," he said, standing to walk back to his desk. He came back with a letter sized envelope. "So you know I'm serious."

Your eyebrows shot up when you opened the envelope. It was a cashier's check for two thousand dollars made out to you. He had it ready for you. "Andy, this-"

"I know we agreed on one thousand, but I was set on two thousand before we talked it over. Even if you decide not to move forward with this, I want you to take it."

Afraid you might cry again, you set the check down and stood up to hug him. He stiffened in your hold and you wondered if you overstepped before he exhaled and wrapped his arms around your back. You thanked him already with your words, so you wanted to do it again with a hug. The way he held you in return, it felt like was saying "you're welcome".

And that you weren't alone.

"I wish we could have that dinner tonight," he whispered, his mouth close to your ear. You shivered before you reluctantly pulled away. "Unfortunately, I have to get drinks with a few executives."

"That sounds terrible," you teased, drawing a chuckle out of him. "I should get going then."

"It is terrible," he agreed, making sure you had the check and your other things as he led you to the door. "I'll see you back here in a week at the same time."

"And I'll hopefully speak to you before then," you said, not wanting to sound clingy.

But the smile he gave you was a sign of hope. "I'd like that."

This is going to be the longest week ever.

I don't need to wait a week. I'm signing on the dotted line! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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cheriiyaya · 5 months

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crap, he was staring.

The suddeness of the realization whiplashed dazai and he pried his eyes away from you. He fumbled with his pen, twirling it around his bandaged fingers once, then twice before setting it down with a sigh. Untouched paperword was strewn about his desk and dazai didn't want to work on it.

He'd rather spend his hours staring at you as you worked, even if it meant getting yelled at by kunikida. His coworker hadn't figured out how dazai had fell hard for you, and dazai'd like to keep it that way.

He rested his chin in the palm of his hand, glancing your way but not turning his head even if it strained his eyes to look at you like that, but it didn't matter to him.

Even a glimpse of you was enough for him.

He watched in pure awe and adoration for you as you did simple, mundane things; leaning back in your chair and staring at the ceiling for a second. The slight crinkle in your nose and the way your brows knitted together, it made him want to walk over there beside you and kiss the wrinkled tension off your pretty face.

The thought of doing that made dazai's heart flutter in his chest.

With a sigh, he laid face-down on his desk with a groan, running his fingers through messy, knotted brown waves.

Why does he have to be stupidly infatuated with you? He drummed his fingers on the hardwood of his desk, sighing and pulling his head up.

He got up from his chair, nearly tipping his chair over and scaring poor atsushi. The boy stammered something to dazai- probably about where was he going- but dazai hadn't heard. He took in a glimpse of you before walking out the agency.

You hadn't even noticed him leave.

Dazai made his way down to the cafe under the agency, not even sparing a glance at the waitress he'd normally flirt with as he walked out of the door.

He needed out. He needed to get away from you and his feelings for you. He needed to go anywhere but near you-

Even if his heart drew him to you.

Walking down the street, dazai tried to think of anything but you.

Oh, that bird is building a nest. Oh, there's a flower growing in the fissures of the street.

Just like you grew a place in the cracks of his heart.

He stopped, someone bumped into his shoulder and quickly apologised before hurrying away.

He's thinking of you again.

A pause, then Dazai continued his walk back to the agency dorms. This time, he's allowing you to flood his mind and haunt his every thought as you had done to his wretched, blacked heart.

He loves you.

To dazai, the mere thought of you is more addictive than the cheap sake he delights in every night, the cheap canned crab he enjoys so much. It makes his heart race more than the rush of adrenaline during a near-death experience; the kind that screams he's alive and he's lived, even if he doesn't believe it.

Dazai may be an intelligent man, but when it came to you he was nothing more than the foolish boy he never got to be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: wrote this at 10 pm on a crappy ass phone and I have school tomorrow so I'll add a header and shit tmmrw jpxhpxhlxpgxllg im so tiredddddd and still sick wah

Edit: OH YEAH THANK YOU GUYS FOR 26 FOLLOWERS :DDD

Edit 2: oh yeah for those who want it part two is up!

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!!

©Cheriiyaya 2023

#bungou stray dogs #bungou sd #bsd dazai #bsd x reader #dazai x reader #☾⋆⁺₊⋆ 𝕽𝖊𝖉'𝖘 𝕽𝖚𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾

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irrealisms · 11 months

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i call this collage "quitting therapy"

[ID under cut]

Image ID: a collage made from excerpts of my psychiatric medical records and reports. The excerpts are small black text on a white background and are pasted all over the image, creating a less organized collage look. The excerpts are small black text on a white background and are pasted all over the image, creating a less organized collage look. This ID will record each excerpt as it appears from left to right and top to bottom, with a couple noted exceptions where I felt the order mattered.

“This report is confidential and should not be released without the expressed written consent of the parent or guardian”. This text is in all capitals and bolded in the middle of the image, at the top.

“eye contact was sometimes prolonged or avoidant.”

“Casey has struggled with psychiatric symptoms since childhood.”

“She identifies with the pronoun “they”.”

“Casey’s gender and sexual confusion has been supported by her parents.”

This excerpt is a table labeled “Grooved pegboard test”, with the headers of “Z score”, “Percentile Rank”, “Drops”, and “Descriptor”, with rows labeled “Dominant (right) Hand Speed” and “Non-Dominant (left) Hand Speed”. The Z score for their right hand is -4.0, and -3.2 for their left hand. Both hands have a percentile rank of <1%, 3 recorded drops, and a descriptor of “Extremely Low”.

“Casey’s insight into her role in relationships was limited”

“Her affect was otherwise relatively flat”

“Deficits in theory of mind”

“Appearance/Behavior: calm and cooperative”

“poor eye contact”

“Casey’s interpretations of others’ thoughts/feelings was often immature or markedly incorrect.”

This is a table excerpt, listing “Activities of daily living”, followed by the scores “28**”, “1%”, and “Clinically Significant Elevation”.

“To date, Casey is quick to reprimand others for not following the rules. For example, she will reprimand her mother and father for removing their facemasks in public amid the COVID-19 pandemic.”

"age appropriate"

“Casey’s performance fell far below that which is expected of a younger teen.”

“fairly good insight into her weaknesses”

“insight: superficial”

“judgment: impaired, based on recent behaviors”

“insight: poor”

“Casey tended to talk at the examiner and talk over the examiner. Casey only once inquired about the examiner’s own experiences, when it related to her interests (“Do you like podcasts?”). She tended to dominate conversation.”

“therapist called the police and Casey way given the choice of going to a psychiatric hospital voluntarily or be Baker Acted (she went voluntarily).”

“Casey does not admit to ongoing AVH.”

“Comments: more guarded today and more reluctant to openly share symptoms”

“She is still reluctant to start another antipsychotic medication”

“Casey’s guarded nature. I would like to move forward with initiation of another antipsychotic (risperidone v olanzipine), but Casey would prefer to defer that today. Will allow time to process fears/concerns related to medication in therapy and revisit starting antipsychotic at next appointment.”

“Discussed risks and benefits of retrying antipsychotic medication, acknowledging her fear of inducing another seizure. Casey would prefer to defer initiation of another antipsychotic today and was encouraged to discuss and process her fears related to this in therapy, which she continues to attend and finds helpful.”

“Today: Mood and anxiety okay on mirtazapine and duloxetine but still having psychotic symptoms, the severity of which is difficult to assess given Casey’s guarded nature. I would like to move forward with initiation of another antipsychotic (risperidone v olanzipine), but Casey would prefer to defer that today. Provided information on both meds, including comparison of side effect profile and laid expectation for starting one of these meds in the future.”

“Strongly recommend Casey start an antipsychotic.”

“Unchanged from last visit.”

This excerpt is a rating scale, with the question “On a scale of 0-10, how likely would you be to recommend this facility to a friend or family member?”. Below the question are the numbers 0 through 10 in sequence, with a box to check next to each number. The box next to 0 is checked with an x, next to the words “not at all likely”.

“Discharge Medications. Patient discharged on 1 Antipsychotic(s):”

This excerpt is a bulleted list, immediately below the colon as if to imply that they are the antipsychotics in question, which has the following bullet points: “Improve eye contact in conversations with unfamiliar people”, “Improve social awareness and boundaries in relationships (learn to “read a room”)”, “Improve patience in relationships”, “Improve reciprocity in (in-person) conversations”, and “Improve tolerance for other people’s perspectives/differences.”

“Comment: somewhat avoidant.”

“Treatment: Continue therapy.”

This excerpt is a box to check, which is checked with an X, next to the words “Against Medical Advice (AMA) Discharge”.

(thanks to @aro-ace-ave-maria for helping with the image description)!

#idk how to image describe it but if anyone does feel free to add an id and i'll edit it in (edit: ty!)#therapists dni #psychiatry tag #survivingpsych #web weaving #my edit

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lewisvinga · 2 months

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pretty when you cry | pierre gasly x fem! reader

summary; y/n will always wait for pierre, no matter how many times he leaves her crying, she will always wait.

warnings; toxic! pierre, cheating, cursing

word count; 640

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minkyungseokie @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri

notes; this song reminds me sm of priscilla but lowk not proof read lollll

‘born to die’ series masterlist.

masterlist !

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“Mon amour, I’ll be back in 3 weeks. I promise.”

“3 weeks too long.” Y/n voice cracked, her eyes glued onto the large suitcase Pierre had in his hand. The triple header was coming up and she wasn’t ready for him to leave yet.

He had only been in Monaco for a few days. There were 2 races 2 weeks in a row, and the week off he had in between races was spent in France for some work within the factory.

He was gone for over a month and Y/n had only been with him for 2 days before he had to rush off to Texas to start the triple header. But due to a recent shortage of workers in the hospital, she couldn’t have taken any days off.

It didn’t help the fact she was on her period and more emotional either.

Pierre lets go of his suitcase and walks over to her. He gently cups her cheeks, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. “At night, when you stare at the stars, just know I’m staring at the same stars and thinking of you. All the pretty stars shine just for you, my love.”

He leans down to kiss the top of her head, “You’re my girl. You’re the girl that I dream of and that I’ll always dream of. I’ll be back in 3 weeks. Don’t you worry. Just gotta be patient and wait.” He whispers against her hair.

Y/n sniffled as she nodded. “I’ll wait for you, babe.”

“As much as I think you look pretty even when you cry,” Pierre sighed and wiped away more of her tears, “I don’t like to see you hurt. I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

Y/n takes a deep breath and nods again. “I’ll wait for you, babe.” He smiled down at her, leaving a kiss on her lips. He gently caressed her cheek, making her feel like she was his whole world in just that moment.

Maybe the 3 weeks will pass by quickly. Maybe it’ll be alright.

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“You’re fucking unbelievable, Pierre Gasly!” Y/n exclaimed the moment he walked through the front door of their shared home. His smile immediately faltered in confusion at her sudden harsh tone.

“What-“

“You’re a bitch.” She scoffed as she held up her phone, revealing a picture of him making out with a girl in some club in Brazil after the Brazilian Grand Prix.

He had to cover up the smirk that was threatening to appear on his lips with widened eyes and an open mouth. “Y/n, look-“

“What? Let you explain?” Y/n quickly interrupted him, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. “Fuck, Pierre, again? What is it this time? Were you too drunk? You thought she was me? Tell me your excuse this time!”

“Amour, it was a stupid fucking mistake, please.” Pierre pleaded, slightly hating how he liked the way her round eyes filled with tears sparkled. “And I was black-out drunk. I had no idea what was going on!”

That was a lie but she didn’t need to know that.

“Pierre, no. I can’t do this.”

“Amour, please, I need you. I can’t live without you. You’re the one for me. Please, don’t leave me.”

She takes a deep shaky breath, looking at everywhere but his eyes. Her nails dug into the palms of her hands as she finally let the tears go. Usually, whenever her exes screwed up, she was always able to leave them no matter how much they begged.

Her friends would tell her that she was always stronger than all of her men. However, Y/n couldn’t be stronger than Pierre. No matter how many times he’d leave her in tears from going away to races and making out with a model, she couldn’t leave him.

“Y/n, say something. Anything! I’ll do anything. Just don’t leave me again.”

“Pierre, I can’t.” She let out a sob, her hands finding its way to cover her eyes.

Pierre immediately took Y/n into his arms, holding her close to his chest. She tried to fight back and pull away but the comforting scent of his cologne, the softness of his shirt, and his arms keeping her closed caused her to give up.

He pressed a kiss against her hair and mumbled, “I’m sorry. Forgive me, please. I need you.”

She glanced up at him. Her eyes filled with tears as mascara ran down her cheeks. The French driver let out a sigh, admiring how pretty she looked when she cried. He knew cheating just to purposely see her cry was something cruel.

Charles and Yuki always tell him that. He knew he was in the wrong but somehow he loved these types of moments. He loved how she’d suddenly act way more clingy after. He loved how she’d do anything for him. He hated that he loved it but he couldn’t help it.

“Y/n?”

“You suck.” She mumbled, pressing her cheek against her chest. “Swear to God, Pierre, you’re going to need to do a lot of shit to make up for this.”

“I promise, I will.” Pierre’s lips curled into a smile as he cupped her rosy cheeks. His thumb wiped away the streaks of mascara, “Have I ever told you that you look pretty when you cry? You’re always so pretty, no matter what you do, mon amour.”

Y/n let out a chuckle as she nodded. Deep down she knew what he was doing and she knew it’d happen again but she just couldn’t get enough of him. She smiled at him and before leaning up to kiss him, she replied, “You always do.”

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #pierre gasly scenarios #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly imagine

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little-diable · 4 months

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The Ghost of Christmas Future – Loki

Part 3 of my Christmas series! A big thank you to @writingliv for writing this with me, I love working with you! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Loki is visited by the Ghost of Christmas Future and he shows the god something that forces him to find his way back to his past lover.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), some angst, mentions death

Pairing: Loki x fem!reader (2.2k words)

header by @deathofpeaceofmind

Series Masterlist

An almost grim expression tugged on the god’s features, fuelled by the annoyance he felt, by the uneasiness radiating off him. Loki paced his quarters, eyes trying to focus on his book, desperate to distract himself from his mother’s Yule preparations. If there was one thing he detested, it was these celebrations, festive days reminding him of people and stories he needed to forget.

The mere thought of being dragged down memory lane by his heavy heart and his aching mind left the god of mischief groaning, he was better than that, he was better than all these pathetic humans that gave into their emotions. With an angry growl rumbling through him, the book Loki had been holding was tossed to his bed, slender fingers combing through his black hair.

This is why he had let her go. This is why he had pushed her away. This is why he needed to get away from her and the pitiful excuse of a life she lived.

Her. The one his heart had been rather fond of, the woman who had managed to lure the god into her trap. It had been easy, too easy, but who was he to deny a challenge. Loki would always win, no matter the game, no matter the rules – at least that’s what he had always believed, till (y/n) had stumbled into his life.

She had managed to bewitch him within seconds, pulling the man into her grasp before either one of them could understand what was happening. It had happened years ago, years where he had snuck away from Asgard with one of his many tricks, finding joy in the simplicity of Midgard. It had been his own fault, he should have stayed away from there, should have listened to the warnings, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him, and then suddenly it had been too late.

Loki could still feel her pressed against his body, he could still hear her soft voice murmuring his name, calling him back to bed. Memories he needed to get rid of, fast. He was better than that. He was stronger than that. He was smarter than that. He hadn’t been born to live a simple life, he was a god, made for more.

But sometimes, just sometimes, he found himself giving into these memories, lingering on the thoughts that painted her features, allowing him to pick up on the sound of her loud laughter, allowing him to feel her soft skin beneath his cold fingertips. It was torture, pure torture, and yet the feeling had a bittersweet touch to it. An almost addictive pain.

He plopped down on his bed, eyes focused on the expensive looking ceiling, squeezing his eyes shut in hopes of getting rid of his memories, a useless try that only pulled him further down the rabbit hole. His teeth grazed his lower lip, about to draw blood, about to sink into the flesh she had kissed many moons ago.

Before he could try to sleep away his memories, wanting to dream of a better life, of an exciting future, he heard his name being called, eyes snapping open. His heart was pounding, beating against his ribcage as he looked at the unfamiliar being standing near his bed.

Loki had seen many ominous creatures in his life, but none looked like this. The spirit seemed to levitate above the ground, only its cloak gracing the marble floor. No face was visible as a grey hood loomed a shadow over any possible features, emanating a freezing chill that ran down the god’s back.

Loki shot up, his hand immediately searching the knife he kept by his bed. “Who are you? How did you get in here?” He asked, ignoring the way his breath had suddenly condensed in front of his lips.

“Silly prince, who am I, you ask?” The voice spoke, letting neither its gender nor species be revealed.

“How dare y-” Loki sneered at the creature until it approached him, forcing him to hold his breath.

“I do not have the time for your scandals, prince. I am here to show you something. Follow me,” the creature turned, hitting Loki with its cloak that felt just like a thicker blow of air. It didn’t turn around to check if the god was following; instead, it walked out of the room and sped its pace. Loki had barely the time to react, following the creature as quickly as it could.

“Where are we going?” The god asked, short of breath as they made their way out of the castle. The halls were empty, it seemed like everyone had disappeared from existence. The ghost did not answer. Instead, it switched directions, almost causing Loki to trip.

“Where are we going? I demand to know,” Loki doubled down as he regained his balance, jogging to catch up the lost distance.

The ghost suddenly stopped, turning back to the god for a glance before looking forward again, nothing more than the deep dark forest standing in front of them. “We are late. A funeral.”

“Wh-” Loki tried to ask, confused. Funeral? Whose funeral? He didn’t know anyone that had died recently. His question, however, died in his throat as fog covered the previously dark forest, acting as a canvas where an image started to form.

Flowers, dozens upon dozens of vases and bouquets filled to the brim with tulips. Midgardian flowers. Loki frowned. His stomach turned. What? He continued to watch the image develop right before his eyes as rows of people filled a snowy cemetery. Cries and moans filled the empty winter air suddenly, far too familiar yet strange for him to point out.

“Why are you showing me this?” He finally broke the silence, his voice cracking under the pressure in his chest.

“How long do midgardians tend to live, prince?” The voice replied, still staring at the image upon them.

“A century? I-” Loki’s head felt as if it was spinning, every Midgardian he had ever met running through his mind. A thought tried to form, but he suppressed it. No. She was maybe thirty by now. She couldn’t-

“If they are healthy. If nothing happens,” The voice doubled down in a dreamy tone. His thoughts were seemingly elsewhere. “Weren’t you the one that loved to underscore their fragility?”

“I-” Loki tried to speak, but his lungs burned, his eyes trying their best to focus on the details of the image upon him, ignoring the sobbing cries.

“Wasn’t she particularly careless?” The ghost finally spoke, and Loki felt his knees buckle. no.

It couldn’t be. He would have found out. He would have known. They would have told him… but how? How? If he had left without telling anyone, simply kissing her on the forehead like he had done every other morning and walking out, never to be seen again? Why would they tell him even if they could? He had done nothing but hurt her.

No.

Loki shook his head.

„You’re lying to me, why are you doing this? Who are you?” One question after another rolled off Loki’s tongue, filling the silence he found himself engulfed by. But the ghost didn’t reply, he kept watching the scene in front of them play out.

Loki had to stop himself from vomiting, unable to stop the bile from rising up in his throat. This had been his wrong doing, his selfishness that had lured him away from her, her, the one his head had grown fond of.

There wasn’t a day where he didn’t think of her, of (y/n), the love he hadn’t got to feel in many moons. The dark voice inside his head had promised him that he was destined for more, made for something by far bigger than what she could offer.

How wrong he had been. How foolish he had been.

“I understand, I do. But please, take me away from here.” The ghost turned back towards Loki, staring him down for a few seconds, watching the tears roll down his cheeks, before the scene finally vanished. Loki’s head was spinning, eyes struggling to focus on something as the ghost kept speaking.

“It’s on you to decide, but remember, the time she has is limited, don’t let any more of it go to waste.” And with one last exhale, the ghost was gone, leaving Loki trapped in nothing but an uncomfortable darkness flooding through his room.

……

„Loki? What am I doing here? Where am I?“ A relieved sigh left Loki as he stared down at her, taking in the features he had last seen in one of his nightmares. His heart was still aching, racing in his chest at the mere thought of ever losing her to Death’s cold grasp.

“You’re in Asgard, I had to see you.” She had been forcefully awoken from her dream, unable to pierce together what was happening as she was dragged away from her home. And yet she hadn’t protested, not speaking up as a wave of familiar comfortableness had flushed through her.

“You kidnap me, because you have to see me? Is that all?” (Y/n) had always been good at seeing through his lies, eyes not letting go of his as she slowly reached out to cup his cheek. Sparks shot down Loki’s back at the familiar touch, oh how he had secretly longed to feel her close once again.

“You were dead, I saw it, saw your dead body.” Confusion tugged on her features, not understanding what the god was speaking. He shook his head to try and get rid of the pictures flushing through his mind once again. “It was in the future, far from now, and yet I couldn’t stand myself for letting you go. I needed to see you, prove myself that you’re still alive.”

“Oh, Loki.” He dipped his head down, lips ghosting over hers. No longer did he want to share any meaningless words, no, he wanted to feel her close, wanted to touch the body he had once known like the back of his hand. The kiss was fuelled by their still burning love, tying the two closer together as he pushed her against his best, crawling on top of (y/n).

He could hear her heart racing, could feel her gasps leaving her. Sounds that left him grinning in mischief. His hands started wandering, long fingers that knew their way down to her heat, the place where she ached for him. The moment had something almost unreal to it, like a dream, a faded memory, Loki couldn’t help but wonder if yet another ghost was playing a trick on him, but her sounds were too strong, too honest.

“I damned you for a long time, cursed your name. But yet my body has never not been yours, forever connected with you.” Another kiss was pressed against her lips as his fingers disappeared inside her sweats, teasing the thin fabric of her panties. She has soaked through the fabric, dripping for him, him only.

Within seconds he had her undressed, fabrics finding their way to the ground as he let go of her. Their eyes held contact, allowing her to watch him settle between her thighs, lips kissing their way to her cunt. Soft moans left her, one hand finding his locks as the other tightened its grip on the blanket she was laying on.

“My pretty flower, I missed your taste, I missed your sweet sounds, oh how I missed you.” His tongue brushed through her folds, moaning at her taste as (y/n) arched her back off the mattress. Loki ate her out like a starving man, feasting from her with groans clawing through the two in unison.

For months they had dreamt of moments like this, never willingly admitting to it, even though they were caught by them, unable to escape. His arms found their way around her thighs, keeping her close as he dipped his tongue into her tightness, thumb circling her pulsing bundle.

She was a shuddering mess, made for the God’s eyes, for his hands, and his tongue. She was his, in all her glory. And deep down Loki couldn’t help but promise to her, and to himself, that she’d never leave his side again.

His name rolled off her tongue, like a dark secret spoken in the depth of the night, like a prayer made to save her damned soul. A sound that left Loki groaning in satisfaction, adding more speed to the movements of his tongue and fingers. She was close, he could tell, and all he was focused on was making her cum on his tongue.

(Y/n) tightened her grip on his locks, eyes squeezed shut to give into the quiet call of her name. She came with a loud gasp, head thrown back, teeth buried in her lower lip. Loki watched her unfold, kept fucking her with his tongue through her high, before he slowly let go of her.

The god crawled up her body, lips meeting hers to allow (y/n) to taste herself before he plopped down next to her, pulling her into his chest. And with another kiss pressed to her forehead he tightened his grip on her, promising to hold her close till the end of her time.

#Loki smut #little-diable christmas23 #Loki x reader #Loki imagine #marvel smut

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its--fandom--darling · 11 months

Text

little bean - em x fem!reader

This is my submission to @oneforthemunny‘s summertime writing game. I chose to do a wildcard 🃏 submission for cowboy eddie and sweet girl. I hope I did them justice and that everyone enjoys this sweet little story about dad!cowboy!eddie as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Pairing: Dad!Cowboy!Eddie Munson x Sweet Girl!Reader

@oneforthemunny @munsonology

Warnings: talk of pregnancy, reader being called little mama, afab reader, brief mention of car accident. please let me know if I’ve missed anything and I’ll update my list. (This isn’t edited. hopefully it’s all good. Enjoy!)

A/N: this is heavily inspired by personal experience with one of those ride and spring ponies that my sister and i had growing up. all header pictures are from pinterest, credit to the og owners of the photos. graphics by @firefly-graphics

“Can you please uncover my eyes now?” you plead with your fiance as he guides you outside to see his latest surprise. You and Eddie had never really talked about having kids, always considering the many farm animals that you’d convinced him to adopt over the years as your pseudo-children. So when you’d found out that you were pregnant after a fender-bender, you and Eddie had the realization that you both wanted this little bean to be a part of your life.

This brings you to now, 6 months into your pregnancy. The morning sickness had wrecked you for a while and your cravings had been intense and random. Pickles and peanut butter, sardines and fiddleheads, copious amounts of cheese doodles. But Eddie had taken everything in stride, making the 20 plus minute drive into town to hit the only 24 hour mini mart in the area whenever the urge for a midnight milkshake struck you. He’d truly been a saint, he’d always been good to you, treated you like a princess, but seeing you round with his child had unleashed another side of him, one that was incredibly tender. Without hesitation the two of you had decided to be surprised when the baby came, knowing that no matter what you had, it wouldn’t change the fact that you two were going to spoil, cherish and raise your little bean to be a kind person.

“Just be patient for a second more, little mama. I don’t wanna spoil the surprise just yet,” he murmured, a grin evident in his voice.

You huffed in fake annoyance, crossing your arms after the screen door, thwapped shut behind the two of you.

“Alright, ready?”

“Yes, Eds! The suspense is killing me!” you squeak, bringing your hands up to grab at your man’s calloused hands where they rested over your eyes.

He chuckles as he lets his hands be pulled from your eyes. You blink a few times to adjust your vision before taking in his latest surprise. In your silence, your feel him lace his fingers with yours as you feel the familiar burn of tears in your eyes.

“I know little bean won’t be able to use it for a while after they’ve made their grand entrance, but it was the last one in the store and sweet girl, I just couldn’t resist.”

You turn and kiss him softly. “It’s perfect, I love it.”

Sitting on the front porch is a ride and spring horse, almost identical to the one that you’d described to Eddie. You’d been telling him how, despite being a city girl, had spent many of your earliest summers of childhood at your grandparents. They lived in the countryside in a big white farmhouse style house. Your grandfather was always a fan of black and white westerns, so you’d watched more than your fair share while your granny took her afternoon nap. You’d expressed to Eddie that those were some of your favorite childhood memories, especially when you’d arrived one day to find a beautiful chestnut colored ride and spring pony on your grandparents front lawn. The image of his sweet girl as child with little pigtails and her grandfather’s cowboy hat slipping down over her eyes as she bounced away the afternoon on that horse had made his heart clench.

“Really? It isn’t too much? I know that I’ve been spoiling little bean and they ain’t even arrived yet but…”

You cut him off with a sweet kiss, cupping the back of his neck with your free hand and pouring your love and appreciation into the kiss. “It’s perfect,” you repeat as your lips part and he breaks into a grin as you bump your nose against his affectionately. “Thank you, for the horse and for taking care of me and bean. Thank you for listening to me and remembering those little details I shared with you.”

He grins wider, eyes crinkling with it. “It’s my pleasure, sweet girl. You two are my whole world.”

You grin at him, “You forgot about Medusa, can’t have her feeling left out now.”

He chuckles and rolls his eyes at you, “Well, you’re right about that, sweet girl.”

You kiss him again. “Always am, aren’t I?”

He rolls his eyes, “I’ll give you most of the time, little mama.”

You smirk up at him, “I’ll take it. Now come on and show me what else you got.”

He furrows his brow at you, “What are you talking about?”

“I just know you didn’t leave the store with just that toy, lay it on me, what else did you get?”

He sighs, “You know me far too well, sweet girl.”

“It’s because I love ya handsome, now show me the goods.”

He chuckles as you settle on the porch swing he’d installed for you when you’d first moved in with him. “I’ll get the bag.”

You giggle and kick your feet up resting your hands on your bump, stroking your thumb over it tenderly as Eddie ran to the pick up to grab the rest of his haul. As you watched him go through everything that he picked up for your future child, you knew that there was no way that you would wanna do this with anyone but your Eddie.

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(Read more sacrifice)

#munnysummergame #cowboy!eddie munson #sweetgirl!reader #fem!reader #fluff #eddie munson fanfic

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kittiestkat · 2 years

Text

from old blog

dark content : stepcest

(i will insert the header when i can b bothered to make it :p)

again!” the incessant shouting and slaps of skin on polyester rang through your ears as you sat on one of the benches, legs swinging.

boxing wasn’t your forte, actually, any physical exercise at all wasn’t your favourite thing ever. at all for that matter.

“again!” the black haired brute shouted once more, praising the man he was training when his throw sounded a particularly loud ‘shmack’.

as much as your mother would scold you, you couldn’t deny that coming here was boring, your iphone games no longer satisfying the short spanned part of your brain.

tugging at your pleated skirt, you yawned, stretching your arms above you, exposing a slither of bronzed skin that enticed the person next to you to start speaking to you.

“good trainer isn’t he.” the man questioned, no, stated. he was bald, grey scruff framing a sunken down face.

“excuse me?” you question, head tilting to the side in confusion as to why this man was prying conversation from you. conversation you’d much prefer spent with megumi, if your phone wasn’t fucking dead.

“your dad,” he said, eyes flickering to the frilly socks you were sporting, his lips calling upwards as he tried gaging in what type of person you were.

ten dollars the word ‘lolita’ flit through his head.

“good trainer, huh?”

‘he’s not my dad.’

at least that’s what you would have said. your head turns, eyes zoning in on the tall man, unmoving as he held two matte black focus pads in his hands. no matter how hard the trainee punched he didn’t budge. not once.

“sure is.” you roll your eyes.

“be nice okay, they’re lovely and i don’t want them getting the wrong impression of you.” you didn’t appreciate your mum speaking so lowly of you. you loved her, sure. but right now you wanted to do nothing more than throw a tantrum.

it wasn’t like you went and fucked another man, got married and abandoned your old life for flashy cars and fake smiles. bitch.

three knocks on the door and the wood was swung open. a young boy with thick, black, unruly hair stood, looking…bored? great, another moron.

you rolled your eyes, wanting to gouge them out at your mums sickly sweet, completely inorganic, voice.

“fushi!” she beams, arms wide as she wraps him in a one sided hug.

“where’s your father, darling?” like he sensed her presence, a tall shadow came from the room directly in front of you, which you presumed to be the living room, kitchen even.

you had to admit, even you were a little surprised.

how did she bag that?

“baby!” your mother said, voices a hundred octaves higher. gross.

the man was tall, really fucking tall. six two maybe? taller even.

he was big, big shoulders, big hands, big smile. his top did nothing to hide his taught waist, the slim frame of it clearly sporting many muscles. not that you cared, his soon to be daughter.

your mum draped round him like some sort of bimbo accessory. the boy next to you scoffed. as much as you hated to admit it, your attitude to this situation was like his, as much as you whined and protested, the prospect of a new mother made your eyes twinkle, dimly, but there none the less.

“you must be y/n,” the man grinned, eyes wide, he looked like he genuinely was excited to meet you. he was still fucking intimidating.

your heart was hammering against your chest, you had grown annoyed at your body for being excited at the fact you were going to have a father figure, a new friend.

“i’m toji.” you shuffled on your feet a few times. you only mumbled in response, flustered; pinning it on the aspect of having a new entire family, not the tall man in front of you.

you could feel your mums anger when you didn’t speak, her mouth opening to scold you.

squeezing her sides, his voice in a low murmur, toji told your mum to lay off you, well not those exact words but along those lines. your eyes snapped up to the person towering over you. he was…defending you? tch, probably to win you over. you couldn’t help the small smile the crept on your face. you had to lower your head so your curls draped in front of your face.

“pleasure meeting you y/n.” he winked at you light-heartedly, his voice soft and warm and everything and more. your heart was only beating from nerves. that’s all.

“this is my little boy,” he pulled the lanky boy into his side, enjoying his groan at the teasing name. even you cracked a smile.

“say hi fushi.” he mocked your mums previous name with friendly intentions.

the boy kicks his feet, strands of hair covering his face like your own as he said a small mutter of his name. god you were both as bad as each other.

“what do you say back?” your mum said, trying to not lose her patience at you. it was like you were five all over again.

“y/n.” was all you gave. toji squeezes your mum to his side, nodding his head for you all to go to the dining room, the fumes of cooked food enticing you.

“cute name for a cute girl.” you blinked up at him, his back turned to you. whatever.

you still couldn’t believe you had been dragged out of bed to watch your dad train some sweaty balls of muscle.

over the course for these past months you had gotten more comfortable, surprisingly megumi had become your best friend. you were inseparable.

that’s when the name started to appear. habit learnt from fushiguro.

“daddy likes showing off.” you said, eyes still on your father. the man probably came in his pants right then and there. old fuck.

before you could tease with him any more, proving his misogynistic stereotype of you true, your name was called.

grabbing a ice-cold bottle of water from he fridge, you walk towards the ring.

“i’m not going to keep handing you stuff if you kill the guy.” you joke, earning a grin from toji, who doesn’t miss the way you tug at your short skirt, shuffling. toji still intimidated you, the drops of sweat falling down strands of his hair enticed you. your father was fucking beautiful.

as he was about to speak, the panting man behind him spoke. his face wasn’t that flushed from the exercise, you could tell that much. creep.

“she yours?” toji nods his head up at you, signalling for you to climb the ring, pulling you into his side when you were up on the slightly bouncy ring.

“of course, why else would she be such a good girl, helping her dad like this.” he let go of you, to unscrew the cap of water, handing it to the blonde.

“she’s the best.” your eyes were wild, barley registering the amount of praise thrown your way. not giving you time to process how toji grows territorial, glaring at the man that was eye fucking his princess moments prior.

his gaze falls back to your outfit; the usual short skirt, small socks and long sleeve black shirt, tucked in, tight enough the outline of your bra be visible. you loved your skirts.

he knew you were bored, knew how much you hated being dragged out the house. mum’s orders though, kid.

“how about a deal?” your ears perk up at his voice, low and soothing as he rubbed your back, comforting you. a deal?

“a deal?”

“mhm, a deal.”

“okay, shoot.” you smiled, not noticing the way your dad presses your body closer to his.

“if you carry on being this good, we can go get burgers,” the idea of juicy red meat appeased your senses, not nearly as much as quality time with daddy.

“just don’t tell your mother.”

by the time you’re home, all the lights are off.

you knew it was late, but just how late.

although it was night, the penthouse was boiling hot and you were wide awake.

taking off his coat, slicking back his wild, black hair with one hand, toji made his way to the kitchen, glass walls showing off flickering stars and a still silence.

everyone must be in bed.

the clinking of glass jolted you from your thoughts as you kicked off your trainers, feet softly thumping as you followed after your dad.

the artificial fire flickers under the tv, the soft light emitting a gentle glow. toji stood in the kitchen, pouring red wine into a large glass without a care in the world.

watching him made your realised how assured he was, how good he was to you.

how sure he was of his looks, charm and money. he was so fucking humble it irked you. you were a poison apple amongst a basket of berries. i mean you had it panned out in your head, him being nasty, cruel, evil. you were the nasty one.

“daddy?” you whisper. you gauge in on his reaction, fists balling up your skirt at the name you never used prior to now. the soft glug of wine continues, the only thing assuring he heard you being the small curl of his top lip.

he continues to ignore you.

his top is too tight, probably too suffocating, you didn’t know why he wore them. you didn’t complain.

after the glass is almost half full, the man makes his way to the living room, sitting on a coach. the fire flickers in his eyes, his features partly shadowed. how did your mum marry him?

it annoyed you really. why did mummy love him like she did late at night, when you and fugi were asleep. shouldn’t that be daddy’s best girl making him feel that good? shouldn’t that be you?

“sit.” realising he was talking to you, you made your way to the seat he was on, getting ready to rest on the arm chair. looking up at you, he smiled, shaking his head, finger pointing at the floor.

what were you a dog?

rolling your eyes, you sit on the floor, looking up at him as he sipped the alcoholic beverage. his eyes drift to you, glancing at your frame.

you were nothing like your mother; short, curvier, softer skin, a virgin. the last part was hit or miss.

your eyes skim over the wine glass, tongue wanting to dart out and seal a sip. sensing your curiosity he tilts the glass your way.

“wanna try?” nodding your head, you get up on your knees, only for his foot to push you back down.

“dogs don’t stand,” he jokes, foot on your lap, then tilting your head up by your chin.

“now be a good puppy and beg” you felt warm, confused but extremely…no not aroused. how could you be? he was joking, this is what dads do right? you just never had the presence of one in our life just like you weren’t used to these dad jokes…right?

rolling your eyes, you mimic a dog, intentions pure.

toji watches you, your hands balled up to look like paws, tongue lolling out.

“hmm,” his foot lifts from you and he pats his lap which you sit on a little too eagerly. it was weird; you were short, sure, but you weren’t slim, so why did you feel so fucking tiny on your dads lap?

he takes a sip while you’re lost in your thoughts, the feeling of a hand turning your hand breaks you from your reverie.

without warning warm lips capture yours, red liquid drizzling down the sides, pooling on your chin, threatening to drip down your chin.

you’re stunned. too stunned to tell him his tongue should be lapping up the red rivulets on your neck.

“more?” you don’t answer, he doesn’t expect you to, and before you know it, you’re fully straddling him, larger hands in your hair on your hip. all of him too much yet not enough.

“daddy?” he growls, pushing you into himself further. you feel it, you feel him.

“you want to be daddy’s favourite right?” you nod eagerly, stomach fluttering at the chance to be truly be his best.

is this it? the fatherly love everyone talks about.

it has to be.

“then tell daddy you love him.”

“megumi, i swear to fuck.” it’d be a lie if you said you didn’t speak about last week, if you didn’t bring it up, if he apologised.

toji had said he knew your antics, how you wore those short skirts, tiny socks, always hovered round him, stared at him. you didn’t deny it, didn’t deny how much you wanted, no, needed his attention.

and he gave it to you, every single night; with his fingers, tongue, cock.

you were just being a good daughter, his good daughter.

megumi continues flicking you with water, wet hands now in your grasp as you wrestle him, laughing.

“oi,” a deep voice sounds trough the room. his voice.

“someone sat the door for you, says she wants to talk.” he’s teasing, although his face remains blank. megumi grumbles, walking over, pretending his face isn’t blazing red.

“tell your little girlfriend i said hi.” you tease alongside, earning a middle finger.

toji watches you, waiting till his son leaves, before you resume washing up. it’s late, surprising you a girl would come for your brother at this hour, although now you think about it, think bout how thin your walls were, were you really that surprised?

“no boys coming for you?” you almost drop the glass in your hand, his voice catching you of guard. it always did. laughing off his question, your eyes stay put on the glass, watching the sun descend.

“would you allow that.” you whisper, a statement, knowing his reaction. warmth from behind tells you he’s behind you. the hardness tells you he wants you.

“don’t want your daddy sad do you?” you smile. daddy treated you so well these days, he bought you loads, spoilt you, coddled you, taught you how to feel like a princess. of course you don’t.

“you know what your mother said,” his voice was by your ear, breath blowing stray curls which tickled the sensitive skin there.

“she said you’re so well behaved these days.” he nips the top of you ear, near the piercing you had done yourself.

“why is that y/n”? his hands trail down your frame, resting on the skin of your tummy.

“because i’m a good girl,” you smile, turning round, hands draped around his neck.

“you’re whose good girl?” he was teasing now, the scar above his lip jerking with his smirk.

“your good girl, daddy.”

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bettimbellis · 1 year

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Drained of Light (Into the Welcoming Darkness)

(header commissioned from slimeel)

Characters: The Knight, Hornet, The Hollow Knight, Quirrel, Lost Kin, Nailmaster Oro, too many others to list here.

Warning overview: it’s a Hollow Knight fic. Gore, body horror, aftermath of possession, mentioned abuse, assorted canon-typical awfulness but now addressed in detail! Check the full tags and mind individual chapter warnings.

Rating: M for gore, aftermath of violence, and implied (consensual) sexual content.

Summary: Ghost, aided by a gradually assembled adventuring party, manages to get Hollow out of the Black Egg Temple alive. Having freed their sibling from a mad god’s clutches is one thing; freeing them from their own self-imposed chains is entirely another. Particularly once Hollow manages to arrive at the idea that Ghost, beginning to come into their own as god-king of Hallownest, would like to be the one holding those chains. An idea Ghost wants no part of.

Hornet, having spent the past few centuries desperately believing that all her siblings died in their shells, has learned the truth just in time to struggle with how to help a sibling who firmly believes that their own existence as a living creature is the most heinous of crimes.

Oro has been pulled from his entirely satisfactory and not at all lonely hut in the middle of nowhere to help, and is absolutely not notably invested in this particular patient, thank you. No attachment whatsoever to someone whose response, after everything, is still to put themself between their family and potential harm. Nope. (He’s also a bad liar.)

Friends and allies can only get you so far when someone’s greatest battle is against their own mind, and, for better or for worse, many things in this crumbling ruin of a kingdom are inclined to interfere in the matter. Not all that is dead in this realm is willing to stay dead, and the past is not content to remain in the past.

These are not the only Void-kin still alive.

Read on AO3

(Author’s notes: rougher first chapters have now been fixed! Come read my 400k and counting hurt/comfort post-Temple recovery fic. It’s made multiple people yell at me in generally positive ways, and is wandering in the approximate direction of eventually being one heck of a rarepair.)

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horanghaejamjam · 2 years

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Horanghae Chapter 1

Summary: Everyone knows that Soonyoung loves tigers. The term Horanghae literally means “I tiger you”. Needless to say, the Seventeen members shouldn’t have been as surprised as they were the night he came home with a very timid white tiger curled against him.

Pairing: Hoshi-centric, Seventeen x White Tiger hybrid reader.

Chapter Rating: PG

Genre: Fluff, Very slight angst

Word Count: 6.6k

Chapter Warnings: Very brief mentions of abandonment/neglect and hybrid trafficking.

Note: In this story it is implied that reader is younger than Hoshi and most of the members but older than the three maknaes. Korean age is still a bit confusing to me tbh because math so if I got it wrong please lmk.

Disclaimer: This is a repost from my original blog, this is my own original work and not copied. Images used in header are not mine. All written work is 100% my own, editors and beta readers will be credited as needed. Do not copy, translate, or repost my work onto other sites without my permission.

Previous (Teaser) . . . Next Chapter

Horanghae Masterlist

The sound of rain echoed against the cold pavement and the roof of a convenience store that did very little to shield you from the assault of water droplets. What started off as gentle rain had quickly escalated to a full on downpour with no warning to let you find shelter. Now you were trapped hiding against the wall of a convenience store, curled up and using your paw to shield your eyes from the rain. It was late and very few people were out at this time, and those who were didn’t pay much interest to the white and black ball of fur slowly getting drenched by the rain. With no one to help, you just had to wait it out or try to find another place to sleep without getting caught by traffickers.

You were a young white tiger hybrid, your genetics and coloration of your fur making you a very rare and expensive breed. “Wild” hybrid species were already considered more of a luxury as they were often harder to care for than their domestic counterparts, but ones with special traits could be worth a fortune to the right buyer. You had known this since the moment you were old enough to be sent to your first home. Having gone through many in such a short span before finally ending up a stray, living on the streets after being thrown out from your last home.

You never knew why your owners never seemed to want you for too long before giving you up again. You always tried to be on your best behavior and make things easy for them. You always did what you were told, didn’t cause trouble, kept to yourself, and you were as docile as physically possible. Despite the fact you were a tiger, you were fairly small for your species so it wasn’t like you could do much anyways. However, no matter what you did, you always ended up back at the shelter or, in your current case, on the street.

As much of a luxury as wild hybrids could be, a lot of people also avoided them, especially common predators. They were always stereotyped as “dangerous” or “too hard to train” so people only ever got them when they wanted a guard. In instances such as yours, if the hybrid wasn’t protective, they were often thrown out and replaced. Then there were the ones that decided to give them a shot and panicked the second the smallest growl came from them. Lastly, in the case of your most recent owner, they had adopted you as a “trophy” then got annoyed when you became too much work. Then before you knew it a simple trip to the store had resulted in you watching sadly in the parking lot as they waved goodbye and drove away. That had been almost a week ago and you had given up on finding your forever home. You sold your collar and used the money to buy food then wandered around in tiger form aimlessly until someone took enough pity on you to spare you a few scraps or a water bottle. You also had to dodge shelters a few times after concerned callers tried to get you a place to stay.

It’s not that you wanted to stay on the streets for the rest of your life, but you were scared about finding another home. Since you were a cub your life had been miserable so who wasn’t to say that would be the case for your next home. By now you weren’t going to get your hopes up that your savior would come for you.

A soft sigh left you as you shivered and curled up further, your tail curling around your back paw comfortingly. By now you were soaked and your fur was no longer providing warmth as you began to shiver as an effect of the storm. There was no way you would be finding sleep any time soon so all you could do was hope the rain would let up soon. As you shivered for the millionth time, you tuned in to the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. Your ears perked up and you were about to open your eyes when you felt something soft and warm draped over you.

“Hey there little one are you okay?” opening your eyes you found dark brown ones staring right back at you. His brows furrowed in concern, lips puffed into a pout, and his hair was slowly falling into his face as the rain drenched it. He was only in a thin white shirt as his jacket was now thrown over your back to try to shield you from the rain and drenching him in return. You wanted to shy away from him but something about his warm gaze and caring act made you feel warm and safe. All you could do was chuff softly and rest your paw on his leg. He chuckled softly at this and gently reached out to pet your head. You flinched away at first which made him pull back before moving slower to pet behind your ears. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing out in a storm like this?” he cooed. It was kind of endearing how sweet he was, cooing and petting you like you were the most precious thing in the world and it made you giddy. You couldn’t help but shuffle a bit closer and lean into his hand.

“My name is Soonyoung,” he introduced, moving his hand to rub the top of your head, “do you have a name?” It took a few minutes of silence and you blinking up at him for him to giggle nervously, “Oh right, you can’t talk as a tiger can you?” He hummed in thought for a second before perking up and moving his hand, “How about this, I ask you yes or no questions and you can either nod your head or tap my leg with your paw okay? One tap for yes and two taps for no, sound good?” After a second you slowly lifted your head and nodded it gently. Soonyoung smiled wider and clapped his hands eagerly. It seemed that he didn’t care about the fact he was now drenched from the rain, more eager to talk to you.

“Okay, so this is an awkward question but are you a girl?” you huffed as if trying not to laugh before nodding your head, making Soonyoung sigh in relief. “I thought so but wanted to make sure, are you stuck out here?” you nodded again, “are you cold?” Kind of an obvious question but you nodded again, shaking your head after just enough to shake some of the water from your fur. “What am I saying of course you’re cold,” Soonyoung mumbled, “I’m assuming that if you’re stuck out here in the rain you don’t have anywhere to go right? Would you like to come home with me? We can dry you off, get you something to eat and give you a warm place to sleep.” This time you froze, as nice as his offer sounded you were scared. Yeah Soonyoung seemed nice but they all did, you didn’t think you could handle being abandoned again. Soonyoung could sense your hesitation and began to panic thinking maybe he misunderstood or came off too strong.

“Oh I didn’t mean to scare you, I��m sorry,” he pouted and slowly began to move away from you and stand up so he wouldn’t make things worse. The second his warmth left you, you found yourself craving his affection even more. The thought of him leaving you alone made you anxious so you quickly stood up before he could think about leaving. Shaking as much water off your body as possible, and his jacket in the process, you walked over to him and nuzzled your head against his leg. Soonyoung couldn’t help but laugh at your adorable action as he bent down to pick up his jacket. Not that putting it on would do much as both of you were dripping even now that the rain was calming down. “I’ll take that as a yes then? Alright little one follow me, home is only a few blocks away,” he took two steps before pausing and looking down at you, “oh, I should probably also tell you now that I’m an idol and live with my members so you may or may not get crowded when we get there.” You honestly weren’t quite sure what he meant by being an idol but decided to prepare yourself for more people anyways. More than anything, you were just thankful to have a place to sleep that wasn’t a thrown out mattress.

It was nearly three am by the time you guys reached the dorm and by now the other members of Seventeen were starting to panic a bit. Soonyoung had been a bit restless from not working and had decided to go out for a bit of a late walk since he knew no one would be out at this time to bother him. However, that had been hours ago and before it had started to rain. The storm combined with the fact he wasn’t answering his phone would worry just about anyone.

They tried their best to be patient, hoping maybe he found a place to hide from the rain and his phone died which is why he didn’t answer. It made sense logically, but they were idols and you never knew what trouble they could get into if the wrong person recognized them. They waited a little bit longer before Seungcheol stood up and went to grab his jacket. Soonyoung couldn’t have gone tool far and he wasn’t answering his phone so the only logical choice was to go out and look for him.

“I swear if he just got lost or something I may kill him,” the oldest mumbled as he bent over to put his shoes on. Jihoon, Seokmin, and Joshua also making their way over to the door to join him after a moment. Might as well go in a group to cover more ground and make sure that they didn’t accidentally lose another member in the process.

“If we’re not back in like half an hour we probably ended up dead somewhere,” Jihoon muttered, resulting in Josh glaring at him and nudging his shoulder. There was a mixed sound of confirmation and a few giggles from the others

Just as the group was about to head out and search for their missing member the door opened to reveal a soaking wet Soonyoung. He barely even managed to get his shoes off and step into the room with you before there were at least eight boys surrounding the two of you. The sudden attention made you whimper and cower further behind him. You didn’t know what you had expected when he told you he lived with his group members but you hadn’t expected so many people.

Seungcheol was the first to be alerted to your presence, taking a step back and glancing at you before back at his groupmate.

“Uhm Soonyoung, what is that?” he asked, alerting the others who were now trying to get around him to look at you. Another pained sound followed by a soft growl left your throat in response, causing a few of the boys to jump back. Soonyoung only smiled as he kneeled down to your height, scratching the top of your head affectionately. The action made you relax a bit but you still stayed tensed up beside him.

“Oh yeah, I found her on the street while on my way home, isn’t she adorable?” he asked. Soonyoung moved his hands to grip your head and rub his cheek against you affectionately like a child. It was cute and tickled meaning you probably would have laughed if not in your tiger form but you settled for nuzzling against him in response. Hushed whispers filled the room for a moment as the other members of Seventeen tried to process what they were seeing. On one hand they were thankful he didn’t get in to trouble, but he made them worry over nothing and now they had to deal with a random tiger hybrid that he dragged home with him.

“You’re telling me you came home late and gave us all a panic attack because you decided to steal a tiger off the street?” Seungcheol asked, staring at you as if you were some alien creature. Soonyoung huffed a bit and let go of you to glare up at his leader.

“I didn’t steal her, I rescued her! It was storming outside and she was alone trying to hide. I couldn’t just leave her there!” A bunch of the others shook their head and you gradually tried to sneak back to the door. As if being in a room with 13 strangers wasn’t intimidating enough, you got the feeling you weren’t welcome there.

“Hyung she’s a white tiger,” Jihoon pointed out, “there’s no way a hybrid that rare is running around freely. She probably has an owner looking for her.” Soonyoung pouted and was about to say something when Joshua cut him off.

“She doesn’t have a collar though, so that may imply she’s a stray,” he got a bit closer to try and inspect you. Kneeling down and keeping a safe distance to not scare you more as he tried to find any signs that would imply you had a home to go to.

“A stray as rare as her, in an area like this?” Jihoon argued back.

“Stray or not it’s not like I could just leave her out there,” Soonyoung spoke up, hugging you close to him, “look at her, she’s wet and shivering.”

“Poor things probably terrified since you dragged her to an unknown place with 13 strangers,” Wonwoo spoke up. This pretty much got all of the members talking over each other as they tried to figure out what to do. Basically dividing the dorm in half as some supported Soonyoung and others argued having you here was a bad idea. It was clear by now this arguing was getting nowhere and Soonyoung clearly wasn’t planning on letting you go. Seungcheol realized this and sighed, shaking his head as he tried to think of a compromise.

“Fine, how about this, she can stay with us for tonight but first thing tomorrow morning we’re going out to see if we can find her owner, deal?” Soonyoung glanced at you as he thought about it, rubbing your head again as he nodded.

“But if she doesn’t have anywhere to go can we keep her?” he asked, or more like pleaded.

“We don’t have the time or room to take care of a-” Seungcheol cut himself up when he saw Soonyoung, and possibly you, looking up at him with a begging expression, “we’ll talk about it.” Soonyoung lit up like a little kid before giggling and hugging you close to him.

“Come on Kitty, let's get you clean and dry! You can sleep in my room with me!” The other members didn’t get a chance to say anything before he was bounding down the hall to his room. Not knowing any of the others and not wanting to be left alone from your savor you quickly ran after him, catching up in a few steps. Meanwhile the rest of Seventeen was staring silently at the spot you had just been in, processing the rather theatrical scene that had just played out in front of them. They would deal with it in the morning though, all too tired to even think about explaining this whole thing.

The first thing you noticed as you followed Soonyoung was that the building he lived in was huge, possibly bigger than your previous homes. You supposed that made sense given he lived with twelve other guys but you had no idea how you were going to manage getting around without getting lost. That was of course with the hope that you would get to stay with him. You didn’t have anywhere else to go and, while you didn’t want to end up back on the street, you would run away before ending up at the shelter again. Besides, you really liked Soonyoung, something about him was comforting. He was nothing like your last owners, he actually seemed to care about you as a companion.

You followed Soonyoung for what felt like forever until he stopped at a door towards the back of the hall. He opened it and stepped inside, leaving you to stare at him through the door before he returned with a towel and change of clothes in his arms.

“This is my room,” he said as he motioned with his head to the room behind him. He led you two doors down before opening the next door to reveal the bathroom. It wasn’t overly luxurious or anything, but it was quite spacious and fairly clean which was nice. You cautiously followed him inside and he closed the door before setting everything down on the edge of the bathtub. “I don’t really know what size you are so hopefully these clothes fit you,” he said with a nervous giggle, “assuming you don’t want to stay in tiger form all night of course.” He scratched behind your ears for a second before nodding and pulling the shower curtain back so he could show you where everything was. “All the products in the corner are mine so feel free to use whatever you need. I don’t have any spare toothbrushes or anything but if you want to use my hairbrush or anything I’ll place that on the sink. I’ll be just down the hall in my room so just come back there when you’re done okay?” You glanced around for a moment before gently nodding which made him smile, rubbing your head one last time he gently left the bathroom. You can hear him hover around the door for a moment before leaving which was your cue to move.

For the first time in forever you shifted out of your tiger form, the cold tile was a shock against your bare skin but you ignored it. The satisfying feeling of stretching your limbs out and popping all stiff joints was preferable. How long had it been since you had been in this form? It had to have been at least a week or two by now. Very slowly you rose to your feet, using the sink to hold yourself up as your legs were shaking a bit before getting your balance and walking over to the door, locking it and stepping back to glance at yourself in the mirror. Your skin was fairly clean as opposed to your fur which was soaked and clearly greasy as it flew in all directions. Your ears twitched and you tried to run a hand through your hair before shaking your head and moving to get in the shower before you took too long.

To say the shower had been heaven was an understatement. You were finally able to relax and wash away all the dirt from the streets. The hot water also helped relax your tense muscles and clear your mind. You quickly finished washing up and stepped out of the shower, paying special attention to drying your hair and tail off before wrapping the towel around yourself and walking over to the sink. The white in your hair and fur was now vibrant again rather than a muted off white color, and you were able to brush it out with little struggle. The now wet strands fell into your eyes a bit, making you wince from the splashes of water before you brushed them back. Your once bright blue eyes were now clouded over from the cold and exhaustion and you could tell you had gotten a bit thinner than usual but that wasn’t something you wanted to think about. At least for the night, you had a home and you were going to savor every last second you had with Soonyoung.

Making sure everything was left exactly how you found it, you folded the towel and changed into the clothes Soonyoung gave you. It took a few quick adjustments to get them to fit over your frame as he was clearly bigger than you were but they worked and were comfortable for the time being. The clothing swallowed your figure and his scent invaded your senses which made you giggle as you unconsciously snuggled against the collar of his shirt.

You were a bit nervous about stepping out now that you weren’t fully a tiger but you knew you couldn’t hide forever. You knew it would have been more awkward and you took up less space this way.

Unlocking the door, you stuck your head out to make sure the coast was clear before slipping out and making your way back to Soonyoungs room. Knocking softly on the door, you slowly stepped inside and looked around the room. Soonyoung was laying on the bed, having already changed into his pajamas and dried himself off. There was a pile of blankets, pillows, snacks, and water on the bed and he was laying down playing on his phone, glancing up when he heard the door. His eyes glanced over you for a moment before he smiled and bounced around on the bed a bit.

“Awwwe look at you, aren’t you just the sweetest thing!” he exclaimed, resisting the urge to run over and just squeeze you. All you could do was giggle shyly and look down as your tail swayed behind you. Soonyoung hummed and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, looking up at you as if you were the cutest thing he had ever laid eyes on. It made you shy and you tried pulling the shirt over your face to hide your red cheeks. “Please don’t hide from me!” he pouted, “I’m sorry you’re just too adorable, I’ll stop okay?” He waited for you to relax, slowly pulling the shirt back down to look at him. Soonyoung nodded and shifted to the side, patting the bed, “Come sit with me, I won’t bite.” You hummed softly before walking over, taking a seat beside him with a fair amount of space between you. “Hungry?” Soonyoung asked as he shuffled through the pile of snacks he brought, “it’s too late to make anything but I grabbed as many snacks as I could so help yourself.” You look over at everything and smile as you reach for one of the snacks. You didn’t know why he was being so generous, but you were beyond grateful for it. If it wasn’t for him you’d probably still be soaked and freezing on the street.

“Thank you,” you muttered, voice coming out much weaker than you intended, “for everything.” He seemed taken aback to hear your voice but he quickly regained himself, chuckling at you softly.

“You don’t have to thank me, just relax, you had a pretty rough night.” He grabbed one of the snacks for himself and you two ate in silence for a bit before Soonyoung spoke up again, “I know you are probably tired but can I ask you a few things? It would probably be easier to talk about it now rather than in the morning with the others around.” You weren’t too exactly sure what he meant but figured he was talking about them crowding you again like earlier so you nodded softly. “Well first off, can you tell me your name?” he asked.

“It’s Y/N,” you answer softly.

“Cute, that suits you,” he cooed, “how old are you?”

“Ummm they always said my age in cat years so I’m not sure.”

“Okay well,” he hummed in thought for a moment, “what is your birthday?” You swore you could see him light up when you told him, “So that means you’re younger than I am!” When you glance at him confused he laughed a bit, “I’m 27.” You made a small ‘oh’ expression before nodding and focusing back on your snack, your ear twitching slightly. “Why were you out on the street? Don’t you have a home to go to?” he asked hesitantly, making you freeze. When you didn’t answer he began to worry that he had said something wrong. The sound of you sighing cut him off before he could express those concerns.

“I don’t have anywhere else to go. My last home kicked me out a few weeks ago and I didn’t want to end up back in a shelter so I just kind of wandered around until you found me,” your tail wrapped around you protectively as you spoke. Soonyoung was silent as he looked at you, pouting a bit as he didn’t know what to do. Cautiously he reached his arm out, pulling you into a hug when you didn’t shy away from his touch. You chuffed softly and nuzzled against him as he rubbed your arm gently.

“Why would anyone kick out such a precious hybrid?” Soonyoung thought out loud. When you didn’t respond he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “Seungcheol is going to make us go to the shelter tomorrow to double check that you’re a stray. I’m sure once we talk to him and the others though that we’ll convince them to let you stay. It may be a bit tricky but we can work it out I’m sure!” He sounded so hopeful that you found yourself wanting to believe him, glancing up at him with wide eyes.

“Do you really think so?” you asked, just as hopeful.

“I know so!” he assured you, “if you want to stay with us of course, I promise we’ll give you a fun and loving home.” Your expression lit up and you couldn’t help but throw yourself at him in a tight hug.

“Thank you! Thank you! I would love that!” you squealed, hugging him tighter. Soonyoung chuckled,

“Of course, now it’s getting late so why don’t we go to bed? Are you comfortable sharing a bed with me?” though you didn’t really have to answer since cuddling against him was answer enough. You got into bed first, curling around the spare pillow he gave you as Soonyoung put everything aside and got the extra blanket before climbing into bed beside you. “Goodnight Y/N,” he whispered, scratching behind your ear softly.

“Goodnight Soonyoung.”

You were woken up suddenly the next morning with the sound of crashing from outside of the room. Startling and jumping up from your original spot curled up against Soonyoung. Clearly he was used to the noise as it was you jumping that woke him up rather than the commotion of his members. He slowly got up with a yawn, rubbing his eyes before looking over at you with a tired smile.

“Did they wake you up?” he asked, voice a bit thicker from sleep. When you nodded he shook his head with an airy laugh. “Sorry about that, we can get pretty crazy, and we’re on break right now so everyone has a lot of pent up energy.” You just blinked at him and yawned as you tried to wake up, watching Soonyoung as he got up. “You can stay in bed if you want, I can just bring you breakfast after I get ready?” You thought about it before shaking your head and slowly climbing out of bed. If there was even remotely a chance that you would get to live with these guys, you would have to get used to them. Soonyoung seemed a bit relieved when he saw you were willing to interact with his members. “Alright, I am going to get dressed real quick, you can stay in here or feel free to look around. I’m sure some of the members would want to meet you.” With that, he left the room with the door slightly cracked open.

You thought about it for a moment, pacing back and forth as you listened to the commotion outside. Being alone quickly got boring though and you took nervous steps towards the door, hesitating for a moment to calm your heart before stepping out and into the hall. You couldn’t see anyone immediately so you followed the sound of the commotion to the living area. You could hear some members in their rooms but didn’t want to bother them, tail tucking between your legs as you entered the living room.

Some of the members were on the couch watching a show that didn’t interest you in the slightest. It seems some of them were arguing over a phone which was the cause of the commotion as they were play fighting and running into things. You instinctively stepped back due to the commotion despite the fact that they were nowhere near you. A little bit away you could smell food and hear talking which told you there were more people in the kitchen. Suddenly the whole place felt crowded, making you whimper a bit and back away in hopes that none of them had seen you. Though it seems your sudden noise alerted the members to your presence, the commotion settling as they all turned to stare at you.

You bit at your lip and curled in a bit on yourself as they all stared at you, giving a sense of Deja vu from the night before. No one said anything as your awkward stare down with five males continued. A few of them mumbling things about you and what they were supposed to do now that you were here. Still, they never spoke to you and you suddenly felt strangely foreign and unwelcome. Deciding waiting for Soonyoung would be a better idea you quickly turned to run back to your room, only to freeze when you heard a voice.

“Guys stop staring, you’re scaring her!” turning back, you saw one of the more familiar faces from last night gently approach you. He had a soft smile and tried to make himself look as non threatening as possible, bending down a bit so you were both eye level. “Good morning,” he greeted softly, “I didn’t get to talk to you last night, my name is Joshua.” His voice and gentle aura helped you calm down and you smiled up at him shyly.

“I remember you, I’m Y/N,” some of the others seemed to perk up hearing you speak, trying to get closer but Joshua shooed them away.

“It’s nice to meet you! So Y/N, are you hungry at all? We were just about to finish breakfast so you can come help until Soonyoung is ready?” You nodded softly which made him smile. Joshua led you to the kitchen by hovering an arm over your shoulder, using his other hand to keep away the others who were still staring you down. “Ignore them,” he whispered once he sensed your discomfort, “they’re just being nosey.” You walked with him to the kitchen, the smell of food making your mouth water and your tail sway. You hadn’t had a proper meal in so long so the smell was heavenly. There were two others in the kitchen with you, both of them turning to glance at you for a moment while still focusing on what they were doing. At least they weren’t staring you down like everyone else.

“Here sit down,” Joshua urged as he pulled up a chair that allowed you to watch them without being in the way, “do you need water or anything?” You shook your head which made him laugh a bit, “You don’t talk very much do you?”

“She may just be shy, we can be pretty intimidating,” the one closest to him teased before looking at you, “I’m Mingyu by the way, the one over there is Jun-hyung.” Jun looked up long enough to smile at you but didn’t say anything. You muttered their names a bit under your breath in an attempt to remember them, though trying to recall the names of 13 people would probably give you quite a headache.

You watched them cook in silence, occasionally perking up to see what they were doing or when something smelled particularly good. The guys noticed and would laugh at your cute antics, occasionally muttering a soft “cute” or asking you questions to try to engage you. Jun also managed to sneak you a few tastes of meat as a “quality check” which annoyed Joshua a bit but he didn’t comment on it. Soonyoung appeared right when they were getting everything ready to serve. Immediately he made his way over to you, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“There you are Y/N, I was wondering where you ran off to,” he said. You giggled and made a low humming noise as he scratched at your head.

“Don’t worry she was keeping us company,” Joshua assured, the others nodding. You couldn’t see Soonyoungs expression but he was smiling wider than humanly possible that you were getting along with some of the members. If they liked you, then maybe they would let you stay. That was the plan at least.

Breakfast was awkward though as all of the members began piling into the kitchen. Feeling crowded, you stayed hidden behind Soonyoung the entire time. You clung to him like your life depended on it, occasionally peeking over his shoulder or reaching around to grab food before retreating to hide behind him again. Any time one of them tried to talk to you, you could only answer with short answers or not at all due to nerves. Soonyoung and Joshua tried to direct some of the attention off of you to make you more comfortable but it only did so much. On the bright side, you were slowly beginning to learn who the rest of the guys were, taking notes of certain features to try and memorize who was who. It was after everyone had cleaned up and left to do their own thing that Seungcheol approached you and Soonyoung.

“I hate to bring things down, but we should probably start heading to the shelter,” he said, albeit a bit cautiously. Both of you visibly deflated which caused him to sigh, “Remember what we talked about last night, either way we would need to go and you know that.” Soonyoung sighed and nodded, trying to stand up only for you to latch onto his arm. You didn’t want to go to the shelter, you wanted to stay. What if they decided that they didn’t want you and left you there? The thought made you tear up a bit as you clung to him.

“Do we really have to go?” you pleaded, “I don’t want to go back to the shelter, I want to stay with you!” Soonyoung frowned and softened at your actions, gently shaking you off his arm before hugging you gently. Seungcheol stayed quiet and stared at you both awkwardly, not knowing how to feel about this whole thing. Of course he felt bad for you seeing how attached you seem to be already, and he had told Soonyoung they’d think about adopting you. However they were idols and could barely take care of themselves at times. In the rare chance that you were a stray, how were they supposed to manage you living with them? Financial and time factors set aside, you would have to learn to get along with 13 housemates with different personalities. There was no way that would be a good idea.

“It’ll be quick Kitty I promise,” Soonyoung assured, shushing you and petting your hair to calm you down. Seungcheol sighed and glanced out the window before returning his attention back to the two of you. Why did this have to be so complicated?

“We just need to make sure you’re alright,” he assured, smiling at you softly. That seemed to convince you and you nodded softly. Keeping a grip on Soonyoungs hand, you followed the two of them out of the dorm and out to the waiting car.

Stepping into the shelter gave you major flashbacks, shrinking behind both males as you approached the counter. A bit of talking and a few questions for Soonyoung and you were reluctantly being led into the back where the hybrid rooms were. You were directed into the closest one, taking a seat on the freshly made cot and staring at the wall as you were examined. “Alright, I just need to ask you a few questions and we’ll be done, okay?” the shelter tech asked. You nodded softly, not taking your attention off the wall as you answered to the best of your abilities.

The whole chair was basically shaking with Soonyoung as he bounced his leg impatiently. Seungcheol was beside him and trying to distract him with small talk but gave up and decided to play on his phone instead. Every what-if question was running through Soonyoungs head as he tried to prepare for the worst case scenario while also hoping for the best.

The younger practically leaped out of his seat when the tech walked into the room, bowing softly to them both before taking a seat at the desk.

“You guys are here regarding Y/N correct?” they asked, humming when the males nodded, “were you interested in a potential adoption or just surrendering her to us?”

“Adoption!” Soonyoung perked up before Seungcheol could say anything, causing the older to groan. The tech gave them a confused look before continuing.

“Well if you are interested in an adoption it is possible. Our records indicate her last home surrendered ownership a few weeks ago. As the one who rescued her you would have the rights of ownership first, you would just have to fill out the paperwork and pass a few evaluations.” Soonyoung got visibly excited by this but Seungcheol decided to speak up before he could get too ahead of herself.

“What exactly would the paperwork and evaluations be?” he asked.

“Wild hybrids, especially rare breeds require a bit more special care so we need to make sure you guys would be a good match. Aside from the legal paperwork we need to assess things like financial status, home condition, and given Y/Ns condition we need to analyze her health and behavior to see if she has any special needs. Overall just to make sure that you and the hybrid will be safe and happy to prevent anything from happening.” There was silence as both males thought it over.

“How long would all of this take?” Soonyoung asked.

“Once everything is filled out probably a day or two, you guys could come back and complete the adoption process as soon as you are approved.” Soonyoungs heart dropped when he realized that meant that, no matter what, you would be stuck here for a few days. He had promised you could stay with him and he was starting to feel like he was breaking that promise. Before he could say anything though, Seungcheol was grabbing his hand and speaking again.

“We have a few roommates we need to discuss this with, could we come back tomorrow to fill everything out if we decide to?” He asked. Getting the confirmation that they could, he thanked the tech before walking out. Easier said than done though as he had to drag out a protesting Soonyoung. The younger male whining and pulling against his leader as he kept muttering his promise that he would come back as if you would be able to hear him.

“Stay strong Y/N, I promise I’ll be back soon!”

Taglist: @jhuily @feedthefandoms995 @hosh1kwon @heyyheli @symptoms-of-moonlight @sohnfile @lilactangerine @chxrrypxp @heesung-lover686 @joshuahxgf @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh @ssamie @calumsfringe @cchewhaz (retagging from original upload)

To be added or removed from Horanghaes taglist please comment or message me

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alieinthemorning · 3 months

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Sweetest Sounds [Dabi | Todoroki Touya]

Content: Angst and Fluff, Songfic

Pronouns: None

Song: Sweetest Sounds | The Black Cinderella [1997]

Header: @/takepopopopopo

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

Sweetest Sounds [Dabi | Todoroki Toyua]

The sweetest sounds I’ll ever hear are still inside my head The kindest words I’ll ever know are waiting to be said

You’ve always had very sensitive hearing. Even before your quirk manifested, you were able to clearly hear the sounds of the world around you.

Everything had its own unique sound.

However,

You still haven’t found that special sound.

That sound that your parents made when they were together or when you passed by couples in the crowd.

Although they were different, they were also similar.

They all sounded sweet.

The most entrancing sight of all is yet for me to see And the dearest love in all the world is waiting somewhere for me

But you knew your sweet sound was out there.

Is waiting somewhere, somewhere for me

And you’d find them no matter what.

The sweetest sounds I’ll ever hear are still inside my head

The kindest words I’ll ever know are waiting to be said

For most of his life, Dabi had only known pain.

At first, it hurt.

It hurt like hell.

But every day, he grew closer and closer to losing feeling in his pain receptors.

Not that he cared. Made his job a lot easier.

If only his heart were the same.

His heart still ached.

Still longed for something that was never going to happen.

Something that would never be said.

Words that died when he did.

The most entrancing sight of all is yet for me to see And the dearest love in all the world is waiting somewhere for me

But his heart was like his body

Weak.

Is waiting somewhere, somewhere for me

And so he yearned for the dead to live again.

The sweetest sounds I’ll ever hear Are still inside my head

You tried to date others

But they weren’t that sweet.

The kindest words I’ll ever know Are waiting to be said

Each day, the dead words came to haunt him

Fracture his already fragile heart.

The most entrancing sight of all is yet for me to see

One day you gaze upon the person who sounded so sweet.

And the dearest love in all the world is waiting somewhere for me

Maybe he’d met you before he plunged himself into hell.

Maybe you’d wake him up from this nightmare.

Is waiting somewhere somewhere for me

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

#alie ficlets #alie ficlets: version 2.0 #bnha x reader #mha x reader #dabi x reader #todoroki touya x reader

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letitiaslabyrinth · 10 months

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GRIEF

warnings: grief, family death, angst

word count: 1175

A/N: this is exactly after Ramonda's death. Shuri never became black Panther and never fought Namor. no header for this one cause i really dont have the time lol. and ik i've been gone for a few days but my phone literally shut off on me and it still hasn't turned on so i gotta use my computer for now.

After Ramonda's death, Shuri had distanced herself from the world. She didn't show up when Riri had tried to get her out of the palace with an invite to Chicago. She didn't celebrate her mother's birthday as its day got closer and closer, she didn't celebrate T'Chala's nor her father's. She stayed in her room all day. She barely ate, if she even did, and people around started to notice.

Okoye and Aneka were the first two to try and help Shuri through her depression. They tried bringing her food and drinks but when they would come back, said food items would be the same way they left them. They tried bringing her games she could play but, again, she didn't use them. Their last attempt was to spend time with her, but that didn't work either. That was the first time in months that Okoye and Aneka had heard Shuri's voice and it was to tell them to get out. Of course they didn't give up at first but when Shuri started locking her door, they really didn't have a choice but to stay out.

The second person was Nakia. Trying to reach out and help Shuri was more difficult for her since she had moved back to Haiti to be with Toussaint. Shuri answered Nakia's call once to keep her from worrying but that didn't work seeing as how she didn't answer any more calls. Nakia ended up having to reach out to Okoye to check in Shuri but when they were both shut out, they gave up.

Shuri hears footsteps outside her room door before the person knocks. She doesn't answer them and they can't get in since her doors locked.

"Shuri?"

Shuri sits up slowly. She breathes in deeply and unlocks the door. "Why're you here?" Her voice is low and raspy, surprising both of them. It had been a while since Shuri had actually said something out loud.

"I heard you weren't doing so good so I came to check on you," Riri says. She's worried. Shuri can see it all over her face and hear it in her voice but she doesn’t want to be a burden.

"I'm fine, Riri."

Riri stays silent for a minute and looks at Shuri. She’s lost weight. A lot of weight. She's wearing sweatpants and a hoodie but you can tell by the way it hangs off her body.

"Let me help you." Riri holds out her hand. Shuri blinks before taking it, opening her door and letting Riri lead her into her bathroom. She sits Shuri down on the toilet seat while she starts the bath, making sure the water wasn’t too cold or too hot. "Do you want me to help you or should I leave?"

Shuri shakes her head. "Don't leave, please."

Riri nods and gets Shuri to stand up. "Put your hands up for me." She helps Shuri out of her hoodie and sweats and slowly sits her down into the water.

Shuri holds her legs to her chest while Riri washes her back, neck, and sides. "Shuri, I need you to let go of yourself for me. I need to wash the rest of you." And she does. Riri washes her hair last before rinsing her body and helping her stand so she could be dried. She walks Shuri to her bedroom and sits her on the bed. "Anything specific you wanna wear?"

"Doesn't matter," Shuri says, her voice quiet.

After Shuri changes, Riri helps her to the living room and helps her sit down while she tries to make something for Shuri to eat. There wasn't much to choose from, seeing as how everything that was in the cabinets were either expired or close to it. Riri took out a box of Ziti Pasta and checked the fridge for any milk. She smelled it to make sure it wasn't spoiled and took it out.

"Shuri, I'm gonna make you pasta, alright? That sound good?" she doesn't get an answer back but she knows she was heard.

Riri brings two plates to the coffee table in front of Shuri. The TV's on and much to Riri's surprise, Shuri's awake.

"You think you'll be able to eat?"Riri hands Shuri her plate.

"Doesn't hurt to try." She shrugs and picks up her fork. She’s still tired but she tries her best to give Riri a friendly smile as a show of gratitude.

It had been a few weeks since Riri's first visit and things had been looking up for Shuri since she let herself be taken care of. There were days when Shuri would feel proud of herself for the amount of progress she's made but then there were times—days, sometimes even weeks, where something would trigger about her family and she'd go back to her depressive state of mind and the progress she and Riri had been proud of would be gone.

It was tough on Shuri to actually let herself heal. It took so much out of her not to break down whenever she left her apartment for a meeting with the council. At first whenever she went into the throne room, memories of what happened to her Mother and Riri would come crashing into her brain but with Riri by her side now to keep her level-headed, she stopped thinking about it when it came down to business. Of course she couldn’t just forget how her Mother died and how she couldn’t do anything but watch but she knew she had been in hiding for far too long and the last thing she wanted people to say about her is that she was weak.

Sometimes, Shuri would go days without sleeping and not even realize until Riri made it known to her. For Shuri the days blurred together. Sure, she saw when the sun rose and went down but that didn’t mean she would get tired. She would either spend her days in the lab or in her bedroom listening to music and rocking herself side to side in comfort. Shuri had tried her best to make sure she didn’t get trapped in her bed again. She knew how hard it was when everything first started and to have to go through all of that again wasn’t something she wanted.

Shuri was 21 when her Mother died. She’s 24 now and she’s still making it one step at a time. She’s healthy, she’s in therapy and has been for the past few months since she realized that she hasn’t been making any mental progress since Riri started helping her.

Shuri let M’Baku take the throne and become the black panther so she could focus on herself. She needed to heal fully. She knew that. She knew she couldn’t do that if her focus was on her country and fighting and everything else beside her peace of mind.

#black panther wakanda forever #black panther #angst #shuri angst #shuri #princess shuri #shuri udaku #letitiaslabyrinth

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deuynndoodles · 1 year

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[id: a colored header. an icon of catori smiles and sticks out her tongue. text on the side reads "deuynndoodles" (pronounced dune). end id]

ao3 ★ discord ★ kofi ★ spotify ★ sideblog

commissions (currently OPEN!)

hiya! i'm dey and i'm an artist!

i mainly draw, but i enjoy writing and photography occasionally.

peace out m dudes! ✌💫

NOTE: this meet the artist needs to be updated! i am essentially an adult now (<- in denial)

[id: a colored, digital meet the artist. the artist, dey, is a feminine presenting teen with brown hair, brown eyes, and fair skin. they wave at the viewer with one hand and hold catori in the other. their hair is up in a ponytail and they wear a t-shirt dress with ripped jeans, high-tops, a hoodie tied around their waist, and most notably, a necklace with a key on it. catori is a small blue raccoon with a ribbon around her neck and stars in her fur.

dey is autistic, american, aroace and agender. they go by any or mirror pronouns. they like music, raccies (raccoons), cartoons, their friends, making art, danny phantom and legend of zelda. their birthday is june 15th. they carry some notebooks and various daily neccessities in their purse. end id]

my beliefs

i am against racism and xenophobia. black lives matter and i acknowledge i am on stolen natives land.

i am pro queer rights. transmisogyny and transandrophobia are very real phenomenons. people are who they say they are, no matter how 'contradictory' it seems. queer can be a slur but it is not in the mouths of our own.

disabled lives matter. everyone knows their body the best. informed self diagnosis is valid.

all people own their bodies, and no one else. safe abortion should be an option and birth control should be widespread. if someone is unhealthy, that is none of our business.

i am an atheist. i support all religions as well as i can. christians who genuinely believe in supporting others, not just because its "what jesus would do", are ok in my book.

fiction affects reality, and vice versa. they are not 1:1 but do influence each other. media literacy and comprehension are important but not everyone is capable of doing so. we must hold storytellers accountable for how they paint sensitive topics.

i am anti-ai. ais are built off of stolen work and scraped databases. they should not be used for any creative endeavors since they do not have a human conscience, and do not understand reality in the way we do.

honesty is the best policy. communication is important and i very rarely mean to offend. i tend to be blunt and straightforward and i will let you know if something offends me.

note that this is not a dni. i would simply like people to keep these in mind when interacting, and i wont shit on ppl who disagree with me for many of my minor points. i reserve the right to block.

if i ever do anything that is against these beliefs, let me know! i can be obtuse at times, but i do care about my mistakes.

faq

q: what are mirror pronouns?

a: i borrow another persons pronouns. essentially, i 'mirror' your pronouns. (ex: a person who uses she/they would use she/they for me. "she uses mirror pronouns! i use she/they so i use she/they for them as well.")

#doodles #no way! a commission sheet drawn at the same time as my pinned post? unbelievable!#catori #dey sona #pinned post

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witchybiitchy · 1 year

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c’est ça l’amour | l.n

fic masterlist

chapter 9

Sydney’s phone screen reflected the pleasant Austrian sun as she sat on her hotel’s balcony. After a few too many plane trips spent in total boredom, and after informing Daisy of this a few too many times, she’d finally downloaded Instagram and TikTok onto her own phone (with notifications muted of course) and was now enjoying the warmth of the sunshine as she scrolled mindlessly. It was the Tuesday morning of her second week in Austria, the double header allowing the air to take on a taste of orange flare from the Super-Max chanting spectators. It was also the morning after her 21st birthday, and the sun seeping through her pores almost made her able to ignore the mildly nauseous feeling in her stomach, like it was cleansing her body from the outside in.

She closed Instagram and opened her camera roll, attempting to regain some memories of the night before. It wasn’t that she was blackout drunk, but usually big nights out, like the one after her first podium, took on a sort of blurry cross fade in her head, with each recollection fading into another. After Pierre placing P6 and Sydney P7 (not to mention Lando snagging P5), her birthday pub crawl through the relatively small Austrian city of Knittelfeld was definitely celebratory for other reasons.

Scrolling back to 6:28pm, Sydney, re-lived her night from the posed smiling shot of her and Pierre in the hotel lobby, hair coiffed and shoes shined, through to her 4am plate of chips in a family owned tavern, an orange Max Verstappen flag tied around her neck like a cape, each arm around the said family owners, a genuine smile on her face and eyes glinting with the flash. However, Daisy had been responsible for her phone for the entire night, tasked to ‘enjoy herself but take enough photos that it doesn’t matter if I black out’. Looking at most of the photos, Daisy had definitely done her job well.

Sydney had been slightly concerned about her dress choice, but looking at it now she had never been more pleased with herself. Despite her own worries of not matching her ‘image’ of the well-mannered, smiley, and focused girl, sometimes on the quiet side, Daisy had managed to convince her that hardly anyone would see the dress outside of her actual friends, and that she looked good enough it wouldn’t matter. The dress was a warm yellow with swirls of pinky purple, made out of a mesh material just opaque enough to hide what needed to be hidden (with the help of Daisy’s boob tape instructions through the bathroom door). The stretchy fabric tied in three places down the front, with the fabric ends hanging down to the bottom of the mini dress, the hem stopping in just the right place. The sleeves went past the wrist with a flare, and in every photo she looked like a fairy. Her hair was silky and her expression was carefree, the pieces of fabric moving with her in a way that made her look so young.

The yellow of her dress made her stand out amongst the predominant number of men in button ups in every photo, and the motion blur of every picture brought the night to life again. But despite all this, there was one photo she knew she would think about an embarrassing number of times every day. It was at pub number 4, around 2am, and she was dancing on an ornately carved traditional Austrian table. Well, she had been in the moments leading up to the photo. She was barefoot at this point, shoes long lost on the streets of Knittelfeld. Clearly, drunk Sydney needed a breather and had sat down on the edge of the table, legs dangling over the edge as everyone returned to their own dancing. Everyone except for Lando. He stood in front of her, beer in one hand and the other resting on her knee, head leant back in laughter. She had leant forward, also laughing, her forehead leaning on his shoulder and turned in to fully display her shining grin to the camera. Her hands had come to rest on his chest, and one was clearly clutching the fabric of his white button up shirt. Nobody else could ever see this picture, because, as much as she really did want it to be true, they looked like they were in love. She so badly wanted to be able to set it to her lockscreen, be able to post it on Instagram, because not only did she look hot, she looked happy. Instead she settled on clicking the heart down the bottom of the screen and closing her phone. She tilted her head back and felt the sun prick the backs of her eyes. The warmth was nearly as nice as what she felt when she was around Lando.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling twenty-one.” Sydney heard Pierre sing loudly from outside her hotel room door. She would cringe at his volume except for the fact it was nearly 1 o’clock on a Tuesday and most people had left the hotel (or were still asleep). She opened the door for him in her sports bra and pyjama shorts and greedily snatched the McDonald’s bag, turning her back and making a beeline for the deck again before any words were exchanged.

“Mm, good morning to you too, my little cauliflower. I take tips by cash or card.” Pierre said as he sipped his own coffee. He didn’t even flinch as Sydney lifted her feet up to place them in his lap, both of them settled on the deck.

“Your tip is my love.” Sydney replied, mouth full of mcmuffin.

“Oh yeah, I’m really feeling it.” He rolled his eyes before they came back to rest on her knowingly.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Sydney said accusingly.

“Did you have fun last night?” Pierre asked, a suggestive undertone in his voice.

“Yes, why are you saying it like that? Did I lose my job over it or something?” Sydney’s eyes went wide but Pierre just laughed.

“No, I was just looking through my photos this morning to remind myself of the night and…well you definitely had fun.” Sydney smiled internally at their similarity but grimaced externally at his implications.

“Show me, you sound dodgy.” Pierre’s phone was already halfway out of his phone at her request. While most of his camera roll was focused on Charles, Sydney spotted a flash of yellow in nearly every photo, and it made her feel a little bit better that he had been nearby all night, even if she didn’t realise.

Pierre settled on a video a fair way through his collection, which she soon realised was her table dancing escapade. As he turned up the volume, Sydney could only vaguely recognise the song playing in the background, but her drunk alter ego in the video was singing along to every lyric with a very strong French accent.

“I know I’ve got a big ego, I really don’t know why it’s such a big deal though.” Pierre sang along in a high pitched voice as screen-Sydney moved her hips to the rhythm. Clearly he’d watched this one a few times in the past 10 hours.

“I literally don’t know this song, how am I doing this?” Sydney asked in disbelief.

“I think the question is why, not how.” Pierre cackled as Sydney hit him across the chest.

Thankfully she noticed the video jumped around when the beat dropped, meaning that everyone else was also dancing, not just standing and watching in disbelief and second hand embarrassment. As the song came to a close, there was rapturous applause from the ‘audience,’ and just before the video ended she saw herself sit down and basically sink into Lando, his hands travelling from her knees, as seen in her treasured photo, to around her waist. His head came forward to whisper something in her ear, and her drunk self was mid-laugh when the video ended.

“Do you want that video?” Pierre asked.

“Sure.” Sydney laughed, trying to sound nonchalant but desperately wanting to replay the 2 seconds of her in Lando’s arms to try and replace the missing memory in her mind. Before she could quiz Pierre more on his adventures from the night, her phone began to buzz. The drop of excitement mixed with terror in her stomach when she saw it was Lando calling was embarrassingly strong.

“I’ll be back in a sec.” She said to Pierre, grabbing her hash brown and sliding the door to the room closed behind her as she sat down on her bed.

“Good morning Lando.” Sydney said as she pressed the green button, trying to sound cool.

“Morning.” His voice was raspy and there was a rustling of sheets in the background. God help me, Sydney thought. “How are you?” He asked.

“I am good, us French can hold our booze.” Sydney said softly, bringing her knees up to her chest as if she was in bed with him. Which was an inappropriate thing to think, but who can stop an overactive imagination.

“I wish I could say the same.” Lando tried to laugh on the other end, but it sounded pained.

“Pierre’s here right now, but I know he has things to do later and is just being a lazy dick, so I could bring you some panadol when he leaves.” Sydney tried not to sound overly keen, but she desperately wanted to be with him again after seeing the proof of their night time interactions.

“That’s alright, I’m a big boy who can get his own drugs.” He audibly turned over in bed, and Sydney laughed despite the drop in her stomach.

“Is that all you called for then? To allow me to acknowledge my superior genetics?” Sydney chuckled. She noticed herself playing with the hem of her shorts, and it was so incredibly schoolgirl of her she almost physically cringed at herself.

“Well, of course. But no, I was wondering if you could send me any photos you took of me last night? I mean, wait.” He said hurriedly as Sydney began to giggle. “I know that sounds bad, I just have genuinely one photo and it’s of you and a plate of chips from 4am and Charlotte wants to post something not driving related and she says I’m making it difficult for her because I have no life.” The speed of his speech nearly doubled, and Sydney would’ve felt bad for making him panicked if it wasn’t so cute.

“I would be happy to Mr Norris. Anything else?” She smiled to herself absentmindedly, already thinking of the picture. Not that any PR agent looking for permanent employment would ever post it, but still.

“Mmm, I think that’ll be it for now. I need to sleep for about another 3 days.” He mumbled, probably into his pillow. It made Sydney blush, as much as she wished it didn’t.

“Sweet dreams then.” She said. She was nearly whispering from how gentle she felt the urge to be.

“Mm, only if you’re in them.” He mumbled again.

“Bye Lando.” Sydney said, trying to convey her appreciation of his words without explicitly saying it.

“Bye Syd.” The sudden loss of connection left her feeling slightly empty, as well as the realisation that he was probably just flirting at the end for a bit of fun, and didn’t actually want to see her today, and that it was almost definitely because of this girl he had a thing for that Sydney kept forgetting about. Even though she was basically invented by her own overthinking, but whatever. Even Pierre heard him talking about a girl. A knocking on the glass brought her out of her spiral, her previously giddy mood darkened to almost sadness.

“I’ve finished eating already, you’re a terrible hostess.” Pierre whinged as he went on his phone, not looking up as Sydney sat back down.

“Sorry, Lando wanted some photos from last night.” Sydney said tentatively, looking up at Pierre’s face to see his reaction at the mention of the English boy. Oddly enough, his face was frozen and his hand was stilled over his phone, and not a snarky syllable left his mouth. “Pierre, you okay?” Sydney asked as she polished off her mcmuffin. Pierre’s fingers began swiping and tapping again but no words were spoken. “Pierre, you’re being annoying, what is it?”

After a few more taps, Pierre looked up with a concerned expression on his face. He turned his phone to face Sydney and for a few moments she didn’t process what she was looking at. It was her tagged instagram posts, but every photo was the exact same one. Clicking on one, she realised with a sick feeling in her stomach what she was seeing. Her phone began to buzz and she knew it was Daisy but she couldn’t bring herself to pick up the call yet.

“Please tell me I’m hallucinating and that’s not what I think it is.” Sydney said. Pierre just looked at her with a pitying gaze.The photo was a little bit grainier than hers, and a little bit more over exposed, but everything was clearly identifiable as a pub full of Formula 1 drivers, engineers and a few team bosses. It was the same pub from 2am, the carved table exactly how it looked in both her photo and Pierre’s video. Except instead of her dancing on a table, instead of her hands scrunched in Lando’s shirt or his hands on her waist, it was something infinitely times worse. He had put down his beer bottle and now both hands were on her hips, venturing to bum territory. Her hands had risen up to his neck, fingers interrupted by his brown curls as they clearly scrunched around the hair. And instead of shit eating, purely joyful grins on their faces, they were connected at the mouth.

“Fuck me, I’m gonna vom.” Sydney said, already feeling the blood drain from her face.

“Sydney-” Pierre began to attempt his ‘it’s-not-that-bad’ talk but Sydney was already running to the toilet. She dropped to her knees and barely felt the cold tile jolt her bones as she began emptying her stomach of this morning’s breakfast and last night’s chips. Pierre’s hands smoothed up the sides of her face and collected it in a sloppy bun after extracting a hair tie from her wrist, now using one hand to rub circles on her back and the other to flush the toilet periodically. Once her heaves produced nothing except air, Pierre ripped a few pieces of tissue paper and wiped her mouth.

“How do you feel, love?” Pierre asked, accepting her gentle sniffles as answer enough while she leaned back into his chest. Sydney’s phone was still buzzing on the bathroom counter above, and she reached up to grab it. She had 7 missed calls from Daisy alongside 16 text messages, another 4 calls from Lando and 8 messages, as well as 2 emails, one from Alpha Tauri’s admin system and another from McLaren’s, both to schedule the same meeting at 2:30pm that day. There were another 10 missed calls above all that, from people like Charles and Daniel and a few unknown numbers. Her phone read 13:42, giving her under an hour to reconcile the end of her career and accept that she’d managed to fuck up her entire life’s work over something she couldn’t even remember.

And fuck, she wished she remembered it. She opened her phone to call back Daisy, instead being met with the photo in question. It was an objectively awful photo, if not for the yellow dress (fuck that fucking yellow dress) and Esteban being unfortunately very visible in the foreground, it could’ve been anyone pashing on that table. And yet, she could just see the hint of a smile at the corners of Lando’s mouth, could nearly feel his warm hands on her hips, barely separated from her skin by that godforsaken dress. If she’d remembered the kiss, then maybe it would’ve been worth it.

“If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t even see you. I don’t think anyone did.” Pierre said quietly, handing her a glass of water she hadn’t even noticed him fill up.

“Thanks P.” She replied even more softly, trying to hold back full on tears. “I don’t even remember it.” Her voice cracked and she couldn’t hold them back anymore.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, it’ll be fine.” Pierre whispered into her ear, arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders as they stayed sitting on the bathroom floor.

“Syd, are you in there?” Sydney heard Daisy’s voice accompanied by frantic knocking on her hotel room door, along with a few other voices murmuring in what were noticeably stressed tones. She knew it looked really, really bad to be crying in her hotel room with another male driver people thought she was in a relationship with after what had happened, but she also needed Daisy to comfort her, even if it was sugar-coated.

Upon opening the door, Sydney was met with Daisy’s concerned face front and centre, then Charlotte, Lando’s PR agent, directly behind her. Leaning against the opposite wall was Lando, his eyes meeting Sydney’s straight away and not moving away. It wasn’t anger or resentment though, it felt comforting. It felt the same way his hand had felt when he had gently guided her around the cinema in London. She felt, whether or not it was justified, like he was going to take care of her.

“Oh, darling.” Daisy said as she saw Sydney’s puffing, tear-tracked face, and hugged her firmly while leading her back within the hotel room. The three of them sat around the small table in the room and Sydney understood that this was some sort of pre-meeting to whatever was about to go down. Pierre smiled awkwardly at the two PR agents before giving Sydney a final squeeze and seeing himself out. Sydney only realised upon feeling his hands on her bare back that she was still in a bra and shorts, and internally gave herself a smack upside the head. Could she look like any bigger of a whore?

“Now, I think we should start this by clarifying that neither of you leaked this photo, nor do either of you know who did?” Charlotte said, her and Daisy both retrieving their laptops. As professionals, they had both become focused and clinical, contrasting Lando and Sydney’s sombre faces. Lando just shook his head tiredly, and Sydney fondly remembered that he was probably in bed 10 minutes ago. 10 minutes ago when she still had a career. He looked up from the table and met her eyes again, and she just wished that they could talk about this alone, as much as she appreciated Charlotte and Daisy. Sydney also shook her head, and both women began typing.

“Okay, well, as both of you would’ve figured out that this is time for us to figure out our approach before the big boss meeting, because as we love our jobs Charlotte and I both know that we’ll only get talked over by the big men in the room once we enter it and unfortunately for you Sydney, they’ll probably want you to apologise and let Lando escape without a scratch. You know, sexism and that.” Daisy said, ending her sentence with a loud keyboard clack.

“Why? That’s such bullshit, why do we have to apologise for anything, let alone put the blame on Syd?” Lando said, huffing and leaning further down in his chair.

“Because this is what this looks like, from the average Formula 1 fan’s perspective. Sydney, a young, female rookie, has gotten a bit too drunk on her 21st and pashed the first attractive driver she could get her hands on, which happened to be you, Lando, and they’ll assume that it went a whole lot further than that, which I’m fairly confident in assuming it didn’t.” Daisy gave each of them a knowing look. “And now, if nothing is said, Sydney will be framed as a party girl who doesn’t take her opportunity in Formula 1 seriously, and who is willing to endanger the careers of other drivers as she does so. Despite the fact that she’s driving well this season, she probably won’t have her contract extended to next year, and that will suit everyone’s big bosses totally fine because as much as they don’t want to admit it, a female driver performing well in F1 puts their job, and the jobs of every man who is overly represented in this sport, at risk. So, this is our strategy meeting to prevent that from happening. Are you both okay with that?”

Lando and Sydney nodded, the latter sniffling to keep tears from reforming in her eyes. Lando’s sock-covered foot found hers under the table and stretched out to rest their calves next to each other. It was surprisingly very comforting.

“We’ve gotta ask you both a few very personal questions now, but it’ll save you sorting out your relationship details in front of your bosses.” Charlotte said, and both Sydney and Lando’s heads whipped up at the word relationship, and Charlotte smiled subtly to herself.

“First, have you two ever performed romantic or sexual acts together prior to last night?” Even though Charlotte was clearly reading from some kind of template she had made, the question made Sydney blush. Although her mind cast back to their hug after her podium or their lowkey cuddle in the movie theatre, Sydney knew she had to shake her head, no matter how romantic she wanted those acts to be.

“Are you two currently in a romantic or sexual relationship?” More shaking heads.

“After last night, do you two intend on pursuing a future romantic or sexual relationship?” Sydney met Lando’s eyes across the table, and she noticed that he didn’t move his leg from beside hers. He began to fiddle with his bracelet, and she sniffled again, but neither shook their heads. His silence, as much as she wished it didn’t, made Sydney’s heart soar. Maybe he wasn’t just flirting for his own amusement. Maybe he really did feel the way about her that she felt about him.

“Okay, well, whether or not either of you have certain…feelings that you don’t want to express at this point,” Daisy began, “If you’re in this kind of grey area it’s usually easier to just pick a side, black or white. It’s easier to communicate that and avoid repetitive questions if your stance is unchanging. And whether it’s how you really feel or not, Charlotte and I think that, in this situation, asserting that last night was just two drunk 21 year olds having a good time and that nothing more will come from it is easier than your alternatives.” Lando’s blue eyes flicked between different parts of Sydney’s face, and she did the same, looking for answers from his silence. She wished they just had one minute together. Both nodded their heads.

“Okay, well other than marriage we probably have the easiest situation to deal with then.” Charlotte said. Sydney thought she might’ve been making a weird, PR agent joke, but she seemed dead serious as she typed up notes on her laptop.

“Sydney, I’m not gonna lie to you, you’re gonna cop a lot of flack for this. You’re probably gonna be called a slut, people are probably gonna comment on your dress and your drinking, you’re probably gonna be blamed for distracting Lando or for throwing away your career, but as long as you stand your ground and assert that you did nothing wrong, and as long as you keep driving the way you are, this whole thing’s gonna be fine. I promise.” Daisy’s kind eyes made stern contact with Sydney’s, and it took all of her willpower to not break down again.

“It’s 2:05, so you guys can have 5 minutes to talk before you both have to get dressed and leave for the meeting. Don’t be late.” Charlotte said, staring at Lando. Sydney just noticed that he was wearing a Valentino Rossi t-shirt and loose boxer shorts, not that much better than her. As the door shut behind Charlotte and Daisy, Lando’s hands closed over Sydney’s. As his thumbs rubbed over the backs of her hands, she couldn’t hold her tears in anymore and tilted her head down in embarrassment. She felt Lando’s hands leave hers and she was worried that she’d imagined his comforting gaze and his knee against hers underneath the table, and that in reality he was furious with her for creating this nightmare for him just as he was on the up.

“Syd, look at me.” Lando’s voice sounded from next to her, him having moved around the table to be closer to her. Her glassy eyes gazed up at his as their hands connected in between them.

“I’m sorry.” She said, voice trembling as if it was about to shatter.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault. It’s not anybody’s fault, the whole thing is just so dramatic for no reason.” Lando said, and Sydney knew his sharp tone wasn’t directed at her even though it made her throat clench out of dread.

“Even so, it was my birthday, I probably started it, knowing how I am when I’m drunk.” Sydney laughed half-heartedly.

“So you don’t remember it either? Thank God.” Lando breathed out, and both of them let out a genuine laugh.

“Although, I maybe wish I did.” Sydney said, looking down at their intertwined hands.

“Sort of.” Lando said.

“Huh?” Sydney replied.

“Instead of maybe, you say sort of.” Lando said, mouth forming into a grin.

“This is not the time, Lando.” Sydney scolded, but she couldn’t hold back her grin.

“I maybe wish I remembered it too.” Lando murmured after a few moments of silence.

“We looked like we were having fun.” Sydney said, smiling to herself.

“Yeah.” Lando trailed off. Their foreheads were now resting together, and it reminded Sydney of her original photo. Opening her phone, she was still met with the sight of Instagram, and even when she opened her camera roll to the photo she had favourited, a pit opened in her stomach. But the sight of them laughing, leaning into each other, it made her happy that they existed like that somewhere. Her phone was between them so Lando could see it too. He titled his chin up to kiss her forehead, bringing her in to rest her head on his shoulder as it was in the photo. They stayed like that for what felt like only a few seconds before there was more knocking on the door, and a yell for them to finish up.

Lando stood up reluctantly, not letting go of Sydney’s hand. She leant her head against his stomach and let out another loud sniffle. His hands came to rest on the back of her neck, and she felt his stomach vibrate with his words without actually hearing what he said.

“Hmm?” She asked, standing up and leaning against the table to get closer to his face.

“I said, I’m sad that our drunk selves ruined this. I think sober Sydney and Lando would’ve been much smarter about it.” Lando said, smiling sadly. Sydney internally cursed herself. There was no other girl, he wanted them to be together just as much as she did. And now, because of their stupid, drunk selves, that could never happen.

“I think so too.” Sydney said, feeling butterflies swarm in her stomach as Lando’s hands came to rest on her hips, nearly on her bum, and hers rose to tangle in his hair. As his soft lips connected with her own, she nearly let out a tear at what could now never happen. Despite this, she couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, her smile widening as she felt him smile back. Another knock on the door interrupted them, and Lando fully extracted himself this time, barely looking back as he left the room. It was better that way, Sydney thought to herself. She wouldn’t have let him leave if he started to say goodbye.

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