Just a quick reminder before the note you've probably all seen by now. When I write this fic, I am writing Jaune as his own character, with doubts, fears and problems. It's not a self-insert, so some of the things Jaune says and does are not my opinion, nor how I think of things. As such… yes, Jaune can be hypocritical, he can make mistakes and he can be foolish at times.

I'm cool with people pointing that out, but just keep in mind it isn't me, okay? There always seems to be one or two who either decide I'm forcing my opinion out – and need to yell at me for it, or some who think Jaune's actions aren't "perfect logic" and so, I've written him wrong, etc… People make mistakes, all the time. That's life. Jaune isn't exempt from this.

Same note as the other fics at the bottom, re why it will be two weeks until next chapter.

Chapter 25

Yang wasn't sure when the Oyster became the kind of place she visited to escape daily life. She also wasn't sure whether that was a bad sign, since it made it sound like she needed alcohol to forget or help her through the day.

If only it were that, and not the illicit services from people paid to show affection.

It's fake, she told herself, not for the first or last time. He doesn't actually care about what you feel or what your problems are. All he cares about is that you bring money each time.

Strangely, that didn't bother her. If anything, it made it all better. If Crimson didn't care, then he wouldn't see any need to use the information. She doubted he'd give her bad advice, since that wouldn't help him in any way, and the good advice kept her coming back for more. She respected it more if she paid for it too. It made it feel more like a service… like the advice was worth something.

Right now, she felt like she needed it.

"Evenin'," Reg grunted as she sat at the bar. He had a bar glass in one hand and a rag in the other. He often did. As far as she could tell, cleaning a single glass was all the man ever did. Well, other than a host of administrative tasks behind the scene, no doubt. He looked her up and down with a weary gaze. "Girl, you look like shit."

"Feel like it." She accepted the drink he offered without her having to ask. It wasn't her usual preference. It was foul and bitter – perfect for her mood. "Is Jaune here?"

"No."

"Good."

Reg raised an eyebrow, then sighed the sigh of a man who knew he shouldn't ask but was going to anyway. "Don't tell me you two are at each other's throats again. Gods, it feels like you have a new issue every week." Reg's voice was thick and gravelly, like rocks run through a mincing machine. "Can't the two of you just fuck already?"

"Charming as ever, Reggie," Yang chuckled, ignoring his growl about not calling him that. "We're not like that, though. We're just friends."

"Horse piss," he spat.

She frowned down into the glass. "I thought it tasted funny."

"Not that. I'm not blind, girl, and despite what ye may think, I've been in love too."

There was an image she didn't need. Yang's face twisted into a grimace.

"Less o' that, brat. You think I always looked like this?" He snorted and leaned one elbow on the counter, his chins jiggling. "Never thin and never lithe, but muscled and tall, with a face many a woman loved. Took advantage of it too… knew my way around a woman and knew what I wanted."

"What happened?"

"Love," he said. "Love an' loss. Found my wife, married her – made this whole place around us, an' then, when she died, never wanted to find another again." He grabbed Yang's glass and downed it in one, refilling it and putting it back before her.

She wasn't sure she had an appetite for it anymore and pushed it away. "Why tell me this?" she asked.

"Wanted to get it off mah chest… feel like you're a trustworthy sort."

Yang blinked. "Really?"

"No! What are ye, an idiot? The last person I'd want advice or to share a story with is some angst-ridden teen. I'm putting out because ye look like a whiny little shit – ye both do." He slammed back another drink and tossed the glass behind him. Someone winced and scattered to catch it before it smashed on the floor. Reg poked a finger into her left boob. "Fix it. Bad enough you come here and drink for free without you turning one of my employees into a pathetic little mess."

"I thought you said he wasn't here," Yang said.

"He isn't." Reg shrugged. "Was earlier, as whiny as you and with a sulkin' face you'd expect to see on a six year old. Sent the bastard home, can't have a face like that scarin' off the customers."

It was really hard to not raise an eyebrow at him for that. The seats on either side of her were empty, and not because she was ugly. They were empty because no one dared sit in front of Reg. His face, no, his miasma, had that effect. Still, he had a point. "We're going through a bit of a rough patch," she admitted.

"Want ta talk about it?"

She was honestly surprised. "You'd listen?"

"Not got much of a choice, have I?" He rolled his eyes to show just what he thought about it. "Faster this shit is sorted out, faster I can get him back on track and your whiny ass out of my face. Go on, then. Share ye woes, ol' Reg is here to listen. Honest," he added, face dripping the most sarcastic smile she'd ever seen.

"You really know how to cheer someone up, don't you?" She glared at him, not that it made a difference. "Okay, fine, you want to listen? I'll talk."

She went on to explain the night out and what happened, and how Jaune criticised her at the end of it, and that the two hadn't spoken since, despite it being two days now. She didn't mention anything of her feelings or Pyrrha's confession… or what Pyrrha said to her. True to his word, Reg listened through it all.

"And that's it," she said, devoid of energy.

"That's what yer both being whiny little bitches about?"

She wasn't being whiny, nor a bitch, but she nodded either way.

"Bah, teenagers." He waved one hand dismissively. "So many people wish they could go back, but I'd give anything to avoid being a blind-ass idiot like that again."

"Are you going to give me some advice, or are you just going to sit there and insult me?"

"Both," he said, and ignored her long sigh. "Yer blind, lass – and he's an idiot, but everyone here knows tha'. Let me explain something to ye. A man is a beast with three brains." He pointed to his head, then to his heart, and finally down below the counter. She was relieved he didn't feel the need to show her the last one. "This one," he said, pointing to his temple, "is the one that gets used the least. This one, on the other hand, is the one that gets used the most." Reg slapped a hand against his chest. It wobbled. He had bigger breasts than she did. "The rest is somewhere in between, but the point is that man ain't rational, lass. Man is a dumb-ass beast that runs on emotion an' feeling."

"General insults to the male species aside, what does that have to do wi-"

"I'm not finished," Reg interrupted. "Ye got yourself in a spot of bother with some shits outside, and ye handled it well enough. God knows, Nina does much the same, except she likes to take them into a dark alley and make 'em beg for mercy."

Yang snorted, amused but not at all surprised. The beautiful woman always looked dangerous like that. "I like her style."

"Yeah, and Brian don't." Reg said. "Gets all uppity and upset every time she does, even tho he knows she can kick his ass across the club with her eyes closed. He's not trained to fight, while she's ex-huntress and stronger than you. Still, doesn't stop him ranting and ravin', doesn't stop him losing his shit."

"Why? She's a huntress. Doesn't he know she can handle herself?"

"He would if he were thinkin' with this," Reg said, pointing to his head. He moved his hand down to his chest. "Unfortunately, he's a man, so he's thinkin' with this. He doesn't see a trained huntress able to defend hersel'. He see his wife, the woman he loves, walking into danger – and him not being able to do a damn thing if she gets hurt." Reg sighed. "He think o' me, and how he doesn't want ta end up like me."

Alone and widowed… Yang scowled and looked down at the counter. "I can understand that," she said. "He's afraid of losing her. It makes sense. I don't get how that relates to Jaune, though."

"Are ye fucking kidding me?" Reg tilted his head towards the ceiling as though in search of divine aid. "Teenagers," he sighed, "My god… I've never seen two people as utterly blind as the two of ye. Do ye honestly need me to spell it out?"

She didn't. "Jaune doesn't love me," she said. "Not like that. I get what you're saying, but there isn't the same emotion between us. This thing…" She sighed. "It's not the same at all."

"Bollocks is it not! Ye don't have ta love someone like that ta think with ye heart instead of ye brain, but tha's a moot point because the idiot does anyway."

"No he doesn't," she snapped. "He's as good as told me himself."

Or Pyrrha did, but they were still his words. If she asked him, if she put herself in Pyrrha situation, then nothing would be different.

"Oh, he's told ye, has he?" Reg roared with laughter. "He said it, so it has to be true – ye, tha's definitely how it works. No chance he could of been lyin' or somethin'."

Yang sighed and wished she had another drink. He wasn't lying, she knew that. Why would he was talking to Pyrrha about it? She doubted Pyrrha would have lied either. She was hurt at the rejection, sure, but not a bad person. She wouldn't have lied just to get revenge or something.

Besides, Pyrrha only confirmed what I pretty much knew already. This is exactly why I didn't want to feel this way in the first place.

She pushed herself up out of the seat and nodded to Reg. "Thanks for the advice. Even if you're wrong about his feelings, at least you were probably right about why he was so angry." Understanding was the first part to fixing this. "I'm going to head elsewhere, though. I've… got someone to talk to."

"I wouldn't if I were you," Reg said.

Yang paused. "Excuse me?"

"You're going up to tha' VIP," he said, and then continued when her face morphed into panic. "I've always known, lass. This is my club. What, did ye expect I'd not know what's goin' on? I've not told any of ye friends if that's what yer worried about."

Yang bit her lip. Of course he would know, what was she thinking? She just prayed Jaune didn't- no, there was no way he did. If he had, he'd have said something when they lost Pyrrha and the two met at the entrance to the VIP area. He'd been absolutely clueless, even explaining what it was to her. He'd failed to mention the strippers, of course, but that was probably because he thought she didn't know.

"Also know ye meetin' with Crimson a lot," he said. "If yer goin' up there to talk about this, I'd advise against it. Talk to Nina, Brian – hell, talk to me."

She hesitated. "You said Jaune isn't here?"

"Jaune isn't here," he confirmed. "Tha' doesn't change mah advice, lass."

"I'll take your advice into consideration," she said, turning away. "Thanks for the talk, Reggie."

"That's not- bah. One last thing before ye go." He rolled his eyes. "Ye obviously think I was wrong on how he feels for ye. I get it, yer a teenager – and so incapable of takin' advice or seeing shit in front of your own eyes. Mull on this, then. Actions speak louder than words."

"Meaning…?"

"Ah, yer hopeless." He shook his head. "Get ye gone. Yer face is scarin' away customers and I'm tryin' to run a business here."

Yang rolled her eyes but waved nonetheless, feeling a little cheered when he grudgingly raised a single hand in response. Jaune was right, it seemed. He was as coarse as sandpaper, but his heart was in the right place, albeit buried under layers of fat and bitterness. A part of her couldn't help but wonder what he'd been like in his heyday. Maybe he had been a cool guy. He must have been good at what he did to afford a place like the Golden Oyster.

The crowds were muted compared to usual, the weekday night leaving less on the dance floors and more towards the VIP areas. The man at the door, who she now knew to be called Simon, nodded once and let her through, half in conversation with someone else. That was just the kind of access she had nowadays. She only had to approach the bar for someone to make her a strawberry sunrise, and it was waiting for her the moment her hand landed on the counter.

Brian and Nina were on the main stage. The last time, it had been a tail of hide and seek, of a man hunting down his woman, but now it was something fiercer. Nina had his hands locked behind a chair, his face blindfolded as she cavorted on his lap, her auburn hair whipping behind her.

It set Yang's pulse racing like fire. She quenched it with a long drink.

Speak to one of them, Reg said. She could see the logic in it. They knew Jaune and Nina trained him to fight, so they would have a much easier time telling her exactly what he thought and his reasons. If she wanted answers, they'd have them.

But they were on his side. Nina adored him, she could tell, and that meant apart from the fact Nina might not give her any information, she would also go straight to Jaune afterwards and let him know. Brian would probably do the same, or maybe just tell his wife and pass the message across that way.

She wasn't ready to let Jaune know her feelings – if she ever would be – but she definitely wasn't ready for him to find out she spent most of her time in the strip and lap dance part of the club he worked for.

That only left one option, really. He didn't know Jaune as well, but that would probably work to her advantage. Besides, what answers were there to receive? She knew how he felt, or how he didn't.

She just needed to get things off her chest.

/-/

Jaune wasn't in the mood to talk with Yang but didn't have much of a choice when she came to him with money. It wasn't the lien itself, but the fact that Crimson wouldn't have said no and he couldn't make her suspicious. With a smile he hoped didn't reflect his inner turmoil, he offered her a seat and poured some wine out of a bottle. It was a fine red blend, less to suit his image and more because he hated the taste of white.

"I can't say I expected to see you again," he said. "Not so soon at any rate. You're becoming something of a regular."

"Isn't that good for business?" Yang asked. Her smile was there, but there was something missing from it.

He wasn't sure what to think of that. A part of him was angry still, and thus pleased she felt bad for what she'd put him through. A larger part of him felt awful in return, and wanted nothing more than to return to what they'd had.

Most of all, he just didn't want to fake and pretend here when he couldn't back at Beacon. "As long as I'm entertaining you, it's enough for me," he said. "How can I help you today, Clover? Not another dance, I hope?" The latter was perhaps a bit rude, and a sign of his mood. He regretted it almost immediately.

Yang didn't seem to mind, however. She tittered nervously, perhaps a little guiltily too. "Not that. I know better now. It's… I just wanted someone to talk to. If it's okay, that is."

He winced and bit down on the shame he felt well up inside him. "Of course it is," he said, sitting down next to her. It felt good to do so again, comfortable in a way he'd missed the last few days. With Pyrrha hurt and everything in turmoil, he was fast running out of people to talk to. Maybe he could use this for that purpose? The two of them weren't speaking in public, but he could pretend… even if they both used fake names.

"It feels a little weird," she admitted. "I never thought I'd be the kind of person to do this. A few months back, I'd have never even approached a place like this, yet now I'm practically a regular. Your regular."

"Do you regret it?" he asked. The question burned inside him more than he dared admit, and he wasn't sure what answer he wanted. This life was one he wasn't proud of, so he didn't want Yang to like it… but at the same time he didn't want to think he'd taken advantage of her all this time.

"I don't think I do."

He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Even if it's weird, even if my dad would kill me, you've helped me out a few times." She played with her wine glass and leaned back against his arm. Her shoulders were stiff, like she expected him to pull away, but she relaxed when he didn't. "Would it be strange if I said I consider you something of a friend?"

"Not at all…"

You are my friend, Yang. It's just…

He didn't know what it was.

"I've got friends at my school," she said. "They're really awesome and I do love them, but sometimes they feel a little too close. I'm used to being strong and independent, to not having problems others have to worry about. One of them, Blake, she knows the most – but she has her problems too and I don't want to burden her with more. It's not like I don't have any friends…"

"It's just that it's easier to talk to a stranger about certain things," he said. "Trust me, I know. It's why anonymous groups exist to help people with things like substance abuse or depression."

"Yeah, that's it." The example cheered her up, now that she knew it wasn't unusual. "I feel like you're unbiased, like you'll give me good advice but won't judge me for making mistakes. My friends wouldn't either," she hurried to add, "but they'd want to help. They'd want to try and fix things, and as much as I love them, I really don't want them to get involved in this."

"Friends can be like that," he laughed, thinking of Nora. "They want to do what's best for you, and they genuinely mean well. It's just… how do I put it?"

"They can be so dramatic," Yang sighed.

"Yeah…"

They both paused to share a look, then burst out into laughter.

"Sounds like your friends are just like mine," Yang laughed.

She didn't know the half of it.

"I guess they're the same the world over." He leaned back and took a sip of his own wine, feeling a little better now she was back beside him. The conversation felt just like every other did with her, light and breezy, with a casual intimacy he found himself falling into. "I get why you wouldn't talk to them though. Sometimes we have problems we want to deal with on our own. Sometimes they're too personal to share."

"Exactly. I feel like I can tell you, though. You're not going to find my friends and tell them, and it's not like you would drop everything to try and help me either."

He did, would and had on previous occasions, but he wasn't about to tell her that. "I know what you mean, Clover. For what it's worth, I do my best to help you. Please don't ever think I'd answer flippantly just to get rid of you."

Yang grinned. "Never did. After all, you're a professional entertainer, right? I wouldn't be very entertained if you gave me crappy advice."

"Indeed." He clinked his glass against hers. She probably didn't even know she was supposed to pay for the drinks they shared. Certainly, her VIP status didn't cover it. He'd paid for them every time, however, out of his own money.

It was only fair.

"So," he asked. "Apart from a chance to sit together as friends – which I am happy to do if you wish – was there something else you wanted to ask me?" He wet his lips. "Have you had another argument with your friend? John, wasn't it?"

"W-Why does everyone keep assuming that?" Yang laughed nervously.

Because I know it's true, he thought. Perhaps it was selfish, trying to abuse his position to fix their latest spat, but in his defence it would be a good thing for her as well. She couldn't, at least he hoped she couldn't, want to continue their fight. "It was a lucky guess," he said. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"No…?"

"That's what I said." Yang sighed. "I'm going to sort that out myself sooner or later. I hope so, anyway. I wanted to just talk today. No serious stuff. I just want to be distracted."

Distracted, huh? "I believe I can accommodate the request." He reached out to take the bottle from the bucket of ice once more and refilled her glass. An odd thought entered his mind, that he always plied her with drink and yet left her to walk home alone. She was always fine, of course. This was Yang. She could look after herself.

Just like she could have looked after herself with those drunks the other day.

"I have this friend who got rejected the other day," she said, drawing his attention back to her. "She liked this guy for a long time, a friend of hers. I knew he didn't feel the same… or I thought I did. She still asked him, though. It took being a few sheets to the wind before she dared, but she managed it."

"How did it go?" he asked, more than aware of the answer.

"Turned out I was right. He rejected her, broke her heart - though she tells me he did it as gently as he could." She swirled the glass in her hand, watching the wine flow within it. "Still felt bad for her, though. I keep wondering if I should have done something to stop her… or at least warn her. I was pretty much sure she wouldn't get a yes."

An early warning to Pyrrha would have been nice, but he didn't think Yang recognised the whole picture. Pyrrha would have ignored her advice and asked him out either way. He was fairly sure even she suspected the answer would be a no. She'd just had the courage to face it… to take a risk and ask.

He respected that, he really did. He just wished he could have felt the same.

"There are plenty more fish in the sea," he said. "It probably hurts for now, but I bet she can get over it in time." He hoped so, anyway.

Yang nodded. "She'll get over it, I'm sure. The weird part was, he and I are pretty close too and she asked him if he would have accepted were it me."

Jaune hummed to show he was listening. He still didn't know what to think of that question, or why Pyrrha was so determined to know. The last thing he'd expected was for her to go and tell Yang. What was Pyrrha doing?

"I'd ignore it," he said. "Maybe she was projecting and felt a little inadequate. It's not unusual for people turned down to think there's something wrong with them." He'd need to make sure Pyrrha realised that, maybe by spending a little more time with her. "I'm sure John's reasons aren't like that."

"I never said it was him."

"Ah." Jaune winced. "Sorry, I just assumed…"

"Never mind. It is him," she said. "I guess I made it pretty obvious since it's almost always about him."

"Not always. It was your faunus friend the one time, wasn't it?"

"True, but one time out of ten it not being him doesn't exactly make the situation any better, does it?"

It really didn't, and he had to wonder if it was him doing something wrong. We really do argue and have problems a lot, he thought. Should we even be friends if we keep getting into these situations? He didn't like the implication of that. He didn't want to stop being friends with Yang, no matter how many fights they had.

"Argh, maybe I'm just getting wound up." Yang took a much longer drink, finishing off her wine. She mumbled her thanks as he filled it back up. "It's annoying. He always manages to get under my skin more than any other. I didn't realise why at first, but now it seems painfully obvious."

He opened his mouth to speak but she beat him to it.

"Hey Crimson?"

"Yes?"

"We're friends, right?"

"I… yes, Clover. I think we are."

"You don't have to say that because I'm paying you. Right now, I'd appreciate the honesty more. I'm absolutely okay with you saying I'm just work to you. I just want to know, in a totally platonic way, if you consider me as more than just a customer."

Concern warred with the desire to keep her as far away from his night job as he could, but in the end it was his feelings for her that won out. He touched a hand to her chin and lifted her face so that she looked into his eyes. The black mask was a barrier, but he hoped she could see the honesty past it. "I consider you more than just a customer, Clover. You were one at first, but I suppose I've come to care about your wellbeing a lot more than I would just any woman."

It was the truth, of course.

Yang's smile was beautiful. The joy in it, nay – the relief – was enough to melt his heart. "Thanks," she said, and leaned her head against his shoulder. It was a position she'd often taken with him… the real him, that was. "You know, I used to fancy the pants off you."

"That's a random thing to say," he laughed.

Yang laughed too. "Yeah, I guess I'm just rambling. You really made a mark on me with that first dance, though. It was the closest I'd ever come to seeing a man get undressed. Well," she added, "other than videos and my Uncle and Dad when they go swimming."

"You ran away if I recall." He was prepared for her to turn and punch him lightly in the arm. He feigned a wince, even if he barely felt it. She'd pulled the punch massively, no doubt thinking him just a well-built civilian.

"I was embarrassed," she growled, cheeks red. "I didn't even know this place was a strip club at that point. I just didn't want to leave because there were loads of snotty people giving me patronising looks."

"They can be like that out there. There are some wealthy clients who like to pretend they own the place. We let them," he added with a grin, "but only because it lets us fleece them in return."

She growled. "Good. They deserve it. Anyway, yeah… I guess I just wanted to say that I was as bad as every other girl who came here at first. I had an almost instant crush on you."

"But it's gone now, I take it," he said. It had to be; otherwise he doubted she would be so frank with him. In truth, he didn't mind, nor blame her. Arrogance aside, it was his job to illicit that kind of reaction out of people. It would have been a bad sign if she could have sat through his show yawning. "Or do you still feel that way?"

"Sorry buster, I moved on," she teased.

"Ah, my heart… you can be so cruel, Clover."

"I can be…" Yang sighed. "You know what, this is getting weird. You like me as a friend, right?"

"Yes, I d-"

"So you'd keep my meetings with you a secret?"

"I do that already," he said. "Why? Is something wrong? I can assure you I never told anyone about things you might have said."

"No, it's fine. I know you didn't." She smiled at him and then looked ahead, to the red curtains on either side of them. "My name isn't really Clover, you know?"

"I did guess. It's not unusual for people to come with nicknames, though. At least yours sounds normal." He grinned and nudged her with an elbow. "I once had a customer who asked me to call her Goldilocks."

Yang snorted. "From Goldilocks and the three Ursa?"

"Unless you can think of any other Goldilocks around. Or any parents cruel enough to name their children that. She was a brunette, by the way."

"Classy… I guess Clover wasn't so bad after all." She paused and sighed. "My name is Yang, by the way."

"You don't have to tell me."

Why was she telling him at all?

"I want to," she said. "I trust you not to tell anyone. I am a student like I said I was, but not at some normal school. I go to Beacon. I'm a huntress-in-training."

"Yang…" It felt easier to say her true name. "I'm not sure why you're-"

"My friend's name isn't John, either. It's Jaune. He actually works here as a barman."

"That's-"

"And I'm in love with him."

"… w-what…?"

Yang's eyes scrunched shut. She lowered her face into her hands and groaned. "The same guy my friend got turned down by, who said he wouldn't have said yes even if it were me asking…"

She sighed.

"I messed up and fell in love with him."

Below is the same note you've no doubt seen all week, but I'd just like to say that this is the fic I'm hoping can benefit the most from the break. I want to sit down and plan things a little more concisely, so that it flows better and has less problems. I'm not even sure what accent Reg has anymore. It's somewhere between Yorkshire and Scotland by the sound of it.

Don't worry, the "let's get them back together" from RWB has not been forgotten.

A Week without Fanfiction

People who have read my other fics, perhaps know that I've been pretty badly sick since this past weekend. I went to the doctors over it, and he believes it to be mostly stress-related. Now, before panic sets in, I'd like to say that Fanfiction is not stress to me. I genuinely enjoy what I do.

My main job, on the other hand, a little less so. Summer is our biggest period, and since we write a month in advance, I am right now on the hardest part of the year – our June issues. I've had to work outside of normal hours, over weekends, and with Fanfiction taking up the same slots. My sleep got reduced, I missed meals, and ultimately started to feel like crap.

I also think the quality of some of my writing has reflected this the last week… it feels a little flat, devoid of life. Anyway, my doctor suggested a week of rest and relaxation, which is somewhat weird for me, since I'm not the kind of person who likes to do nothing. On the other hand, my doctor has made a point of it and I kind of do need to follow his advice when I'm sick.

How this will work is fairly simple. I'm going to continue doing each fanfic until they have all had this notice at the bottom, and then there will be a single week of no uploads. After that, things will resume. White Sheep will be the first, and the date at the bottom will reflect two weeks. There will still be NTF, PA, FD and Ent this week, but starting from next Thursday, you won't see any fics for the week.

Hopefully, you can all understand why. I'm not abandoning anything. I'm not stopping, nor have I lost the love for what I do… I just need to take a break to sort things out. Honestly, there is a good chance I'll write during that week too, but it will be without deadlines and without the stress of having to have X done by Y, before I have to move onto Z. The break should also give me a chance to recharge, read some books for a change, and improve myself as a writer too.

I'll still be here, both in my forum and by PM, and I'll still be checking reviews, etc… but I won't be uploading anything until the week is over. Once it's over, uploads will go back to normal. I'm not moving to a two-week system or anything.

Thanks for understanding.

Next Chapter: 23rd May

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur